Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Adventures of Clara Ellen Lane 5/?

From last part:

Mom has been slowly advancing on the sheriff while she was saying all of this. And the sheriff’s been backing away, until she’s backed into a wall behind her. Mom is shorter then the sheriff, but she is leaning in on Ms. Law Enforcer of Smallville and wheezing like the snake and showering the sheriff with all these little drips of spittle. Boy, if looks could kill, the sheriff would be six feet under already.

”All right, all right…” says a kindly voice from the door. And there is an old gray-haired man standing there. His eyes glitter as if little bubbles of laughter were rising from his belly and making their way all the way up to his eyes. ”Tell her you’re sorry, Rachel. And please accept her apology, at least for now, Ms. Lane. And… please… my dearest little Clara.… May I please look at you? I’m your grandfather, you see…. May I give you a hug?”

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New stuff:


Grandfather? My grandfather? I stare at his kind blue eyes. They glitter at me, like he is embracing me with his eyes.

I try to say something, but I'm not making the slightest sound. Don’t really know if I’m breathing.

“Clara?" he he asks, so softly. "My grandchild?”

I unfreeze, and one way or another I must have moved, because I’m standing right in front of him and staring into his eyes, and then my hands reach out and I touch him - his warm solid arms in his soft flannel shirt, his kind strong hands - and the next moment he's holding me, and I'm drowning in the feeling of his arms around me and in the warm sort of earthy smell of his chest.

I think I'm crying, and I think he's crying too. There are noises coming from both of us, mostly from me, and we are sort of trembling and rocking on our feet, and I guess I should be worried that we might fall and he might hurt himself, but all I can do is bury my face in his shirt, and it's getting all soggy. And he's caressing my hair, pressing me deeper into his chest, and I want to be a little girl again and sit on his lap and hear him read fairy tales to me. And I don't want to let him go. And I don't want him to let go of me, either.

"Clara, honey?" he whispers. "Meet your grandmother too?"

And I look up from him, and right beside him is this fairy grandmother sort of granny, the kind you'd run to for apple pie or for comfort when you've stubbed your toe. She's all blue eyes and grey-blond hair and arms that open up to embrace both me and my grandfather, and I'm sort of trapped between the two of them and swimming and drowning in their arms. The way they hug me, it's a good thing I don't need to breathe.

We stand just like that and I swear time has stopped and they are solid and warm all around me and I don't need anything else in the world. I don't know there is anything outside us until my grandmother calls out, really softly:

"Miss Lane? Please don't leave yet. Don't leave until we've thanked you for raising our granddaughter."

Miss Lane? Mom? I had forgotten about her. Now that I'm looking at her, she kind of looks like she's trying to disappear. She's moved closer to the door.

"Mom! Don't you dare run out on me!!!

That got to her! Jeepers! I swear she's jumping three feet straight up in the air. Wow, I've never seen her look so guilty. Okay, now I know where I got my habit of jumping when I'm startled. Or guilty, I suppose.

"Clara... Mr and Mrs Kent...." she stutters. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so... sorry...."

Grandmother's arms gently work themselves loose from me, and I feel cold, like someone had stolen my best sweater ever. She's walking up to Mom, who's frozen to the spot like a statue. Grandma reaches out toward her with one hand, and Mom really looks like she would bolt. But then you can see how she forces herself to stand still, and Grandma takes her hand and squeezes it.

"Miss Lane," she says, almost shyly. "Do you know what a gift you've given us? Our granddaughter. You've carried her and brought her into the world. You've provided for her. You've given her food and shelter and love. And just look at her, what a miracle she is. Miss Lane, we can't thank you enough."

Mom is blinking, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. "Mrs Kent, I've kept my daughter away from you and your husband - I 've kept the two of you away from Clara - I - -"

"But not out of spite," says Grandma. "Not because of any ill will. There are so many things to explain, I'm sure, but for now - let's just be happy that we've found each other, shall we?"

And Grandma leads Mom up to me and Grandpa, and she and Grandpa drag her into our embrace. I hug her, too. At first Mom is so tense, like she was afraid that Grandma and Grandpa would hit her or something, but then she seems to feel something in the way we hold on to her, and the tension just drains out of her. Then it's like she's melting, and I swear I have to prop her up to keep her from falling. She's trembling and making all these sighs that catch in her throat all the time. After a while I almost don't dare to breathe so I can listen to her, because I think she's crying, and I've never heard Mom cry before in my life.

"How d'you find me? How d'you know I was here?" I ask Grandma and Grandpa after a while, when Mom's breathing like usual again and I can concentrate on other things than her.

"Oh, my goodness!" cries Grandma. "Oh, how rude of us! Rick, dear! We've completely forgotten you!"

Rick? Oh, Rick! I thought the little rat had just run out on me. But he just left so he could find Grandma and Grandpa for me, did he? Yep, he's peeking inside right now - must've been waiting outside the whole time, the little tease. I tear loose from Grandpa and Grandma and Mom and I just bear down on him and fling myself into his arms, and I would've bowled him over if I hadn't managed to get us both vertical again at the last moment. But I stay glued in his arms and he's holding me like he was carrying me over the threshold of our honeymoon suite. I feel wild and crazy, so I wallpaper him with kisses all over his face. Rick's like turned to stone but then he comes alive again and he's hugging me like crazy and starts kissing me back, but the next moment he realizes that Mom is looking at us and he goes all stiff again and lets go of me. I don't change position much which is kind of strange, so I guess I might be floating a little. But then Rick really starts to push me away like he wants me to get down, so I do. He's actually all red in the face and he starts wiping his face too, so I guess I left a bit of slobber on him when I was kissing him. He clears his throat and gets even redder, then he walks stiffly up to Mom and holds out his hand to her. Mom smiles at him and takes his hand, and he bends over double to her.

"De-delighted to meet you, Miss Lane," he stutters. "I'm Dick - eh, Rick Grayson."

Mom's eyes're glittering, and I can see that she just wants to giggle, but she gets hold of herself. Right, Mom, you'd better behave yourself.

"I'm very glad to meet you, Rick," she says solemnly. "Thank you so much for taking care of my daughter. And please call me Lois."

Rick turns the color of tomatoes. How many shades of red does this boy have for his face? Guess he isn't going to call Mom Lois.

I feel I owe it to Rick to talk about something else.

"You got Grandma and Grandpa for me? How d'you find them?"

Rick's looking really grateful for the change of subject, and then he's looking happy and proud of himself, too.

"Well, I checked out their address in the telephone book and then I kind of looked around. I found their farm and then I slept in the barn, 'cause I didn't want to wake them, you know? Then in the morning I knocked on their door, and, well, here we are."

"Weren't you scared?" Yeah, I'm laying it on thick, I know. Lap it up, Batboy.

"Naaah - your grandparents have this really nice dog who kept me company in the barn. He kept me really warm, too."

Grandma is rolling her eyes. "Jonathan, I told you - old Timothy is no good as a watchdog."

Grandpa is grinning. " No, but he's very good at taking care of nice people!"

I giggle, and Grandma and Grandpa are chuckling, and even Mom is giggling, almost like a kid. Rick is standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed in front of him, and he's looking so pleased with himself, like he is the hero of the day. And maybe he is, too.

"Hey, I thought you left me high and dry when the sheriff caught me!"

Rick is grinning again. "Naaah. I was just getting reinforcements."

Speaking about the devil, the sheriff is clearing her throat behind us. Where has she been all this time?

"There is still the matter of the damaged bars of my cell," the sheriff tells Mom. "You will, of course, have to pay for the repairs."

I can see Mom's body turn to steel. Uh-oh. You'd think the sheriff would have learnt not to mess with my Mom by now. I can only hope she's going to survive the crash when Mom collides with her full force. Lucky for her, Grandpa notices what's about to happen and takes pity on her.

"Now, now, Rachel," he says. "Honey, you know you had no business locking up our little Clara. Let's all forget about the whole thing, shall we?"

"But what about my cell, then?" the sheriff asks. Like she was asking how she was supposed to fall asleep at night when someone had stolen her teddy bear. Grownups, you know?

Mom's about to lash out with a killer reply of her own when the god of thunder suddenly strikes us with his hammer. Or something like that.

"What is all this commotion about?"

We all stiffen. That voice. Talk about commanding. Talk about... talk about....

"BATMAN??!!??" Mom, I and the sheriff scream simultaneously.

"Bruce???" Rick squeaks weakly. Then he turns beet red and whispers, "I mean... uh...."

Batman. Right. Oh boy. He's standing here, right in front of us. Right in front of me. I mean, how big is he? Is he seven feet tall? Eight? And how wide is that chest? Isn't it against the law to have a chest like that? And those arms... and those thighs... and... and....

Look at that suit. It's dark gray, except it's kind of black too or even dark blue. And it's so skintight that - that it fits him like a c-nd-m, you know? Please don't think I know what anything looks like when it's inside a c-nd-m - I mean.... uh, it's just that the boys in my class always say... oh, never mind....

But his suit fits him like a second skin, I'm not lying to you. Like it really was his skin. His muscles ripple right through it. You can actually see the veins running along his arms. The only place where his suit covers him up a bit better is between his legs, because you can't see if, if he, what he, uh, looks like right there, ehhhrrrmmmm....

And then his face. Boy, almost his whole face is hidden behind that cowl of his, but the cowl is so skintight too, that you can see all the wrinkles and furrows of his face. It's like you can't see anything of him, but still you can see all of him. It's like the cowl was his face, except it's dark gray and made of cloth, or latex. I mean, how cool is that?

But his eyes - you can't see his eyes. There's a sort of white emptiness where his eyes should be. And I tell you it's downright creepy. But it's cool, too.

You can see his mouth. His real mouth. He's got nice lips. And white teeth. You can see his chin, too. It's cleft.

Batman sort of wiggles an eyebrow at me. And I swear his cowl is wiggling. God - when I grow up, I want to be Batwoman and have a cowl like that, too.

"Hrrrmmmm," he says, and it's a very deep, rumbling voice. "I can see we have a small problem here. "Young man, lend me a hand, please."

What the heck's he talking about? What problem? Young man - is that Rick? Why should Rick lend him a hand? Then I get it. The cell. Batman is going to fix it for us?

It looks like it. And Rick gets it, too. He's still totally blushing and looking like he wants to be anywhere but here, like the North Pole or Timbuctoo, but he scampers away like a rabbit and then he returns carrying some really bulky stuff that might be welder's equipment.

Yup. It's welder's equipment all right, plus some high-tech mortarwork stuff. Batman and Rick get to work on the floor and the bars, using trowels and welding torches and stuff, and the Sheriff is just gawping at them, all wide-eyed. Me, I'm looking from Batman to Rick to Batman all the time. Man. Life is good.

"There you are, M'am," Batman says after a while. "Not as good as new, but the bars should hold. You'll be able to use this cell again tomorrow."

"Ehhrrhmmm," says the sheriff. "Ummm, thanks."

"Well, we'll be going," says Batman. "Young man, you come with me."

"Wait! Stop! Mr Batman, please, you can't leave just yet. Not until you've had a slice of my homemade apple pie." That was my Grandma, of course!

Batman looks a bit embarrassed. Hah! Bet he hasn't been up against someone like my Grandma before. Grandma, I love you.

Boy. I swear you can see Batman blush right through that cowl. Is that awesome or what?

"Ummm," he says. "Um, eh, ummmm. Well, thank you, Mrs Kent. I shall be delighted."

"And we shall be expecting Rick, too, of course," says Grandma. I swear Batman winces. Grandma looks a bit apologetic.

"I, hmmm, introduced Rick to the Sheriff before," Grandma explains. "Sort of."

And Rick introduced Batman, I think to myself. Bruce is what he called him. Bruce. Batman. Bruce. Wow.

Rick sure knows he said the wrong thing earlier. He's all red in the face again. Kind of sunset-colored this time. Bit streaky.

Batman sighs.

"Very well, Mrs Kent. Rick and I shall be delighted. Now, Ms. Harris, if you'll excuse us...?"

"Just wait a minute," Mom says dangerously, staring at the sheriff. "You as much as whispers my daughter's name to anyone, I'll make sure your butt rots in jail. And I mean rots. Comprende?"

The sheriff goes all white. Hmmmm. Stand her next to Rick, and then you just need to get someone who's blue with cold, and you've got the American flag.

Well, the sheriff just nods, like she can't make a sound. Hah! Serves her right. That should teach her not to lock up twelve-year-olds for no reason at all... I mean, totalling a shed, a car, some trees and a cell is something that could happen to anyone, isn't it?

Mom keeps staring at the sheriff for a bit longer, until the sheriff starts shrinking. I swear she does. I have to look at her feet to see if there's a puddle there. Sure enough her shoes look wet, so she's either melting or else she's got a world record case of sweaty foot odor. I guess it could be just stinking feet, because I can smell her.

Mom snorts, turns around and sails out of the police station like a battle ship, and she sort of sweeps me up in her wake, so it's like I have to follow her whether I want to or not. When I start to leave, Rick does a double take and then comes running after me. Batman looks at Rick, then at the sheriff, and he nods at her and smiles with those empty white eyes by making little wrinkles in his cowl at the corners of where his eyes should be.

"Be careful with those bars until tomorrow," he reminds her, and then he walks calmly out of the sheriff's station, cool as anything. I'm almost disappointed when I don't hear the thud of the sheriff's chin when it hits the floor, so I guess it didn't. Hit the floor, I mean.

"We, too, must be leaving," Grandpa says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "It was good to see you, Rachel."

"Oh, yes, it was," Grandma gushes. "You must come over to the farm some time and have a piece of my apple pie, my dear. Oh, well, goodness, we must fly now!"

And then they, too, come out of the sheriff's station, and we're all standing outside, and suddenly Mom is looking all embarrassed again. I guess she'd really like to just get the heck out of here and take me with her, but of course she can't take me away from Grandpa and Grandma now that I've just met them. So she is really sort of flustered and a bit red in the face. Not too red, though. More like the sort of baby girl pink she didn't buy for me when I was a baby. Oh, but Uncle Perry and Aunt Alice bought me all the pink stuff I could dream of.

There is a sound behind me. It's Rick. I can feel him looking at me. And it hits me that he doesn't want to leave me, and it's such a heady feeling that I'm blushing. Not ketchup red, though. More like Rhode Island dressing. Maybe with just a little extra ketchup in it, though.

For some reason Batman's blushing too, so his chin is all pink, which looks a bit funny under that gray cowl of his. Guess he isn't used to being invited to people for breakfast. Man. I'd like to see him eat Grandma's apple pie from a tiny little plate, with a tea-spoon in that huge spandex-covered hand of his. Imagine him putting the apple pie in his mouth, spilling a little custard on that enormous chest. Wowzers. Will he be really angry if I borrow Mom's cell phone to take a picture of him?

"Well, it's going to be wonderful to have you all home with us for breakfast," Grandma gushes.

"I've been looking forward to your famous apple pie," Batman says, and I swear he's winking at me, and I can see the white emptiness of his eyes twinkle.

"Oh, goodness, yes, of course," Grandma agrees. "So you'll have apple pie with your pancakes and bacon, then. Please come with us now!" And she and Grandpa walk over to a battered old tractor parked outside the sheriff's station. I can't believe it - that's their tractor? They came here in that thing?

"Our car isn't working too well right now," Grandpa says apologetically. Batman looks suddenly interested.

"I might be able to help you with it, if you'd let me look at it...?"

"Oh, we would be so grateful!" Grandma exclaims. "Wouldn't we, Jonathan?"

"We sure would," Grandpa says, and his eyes are really shining. I'll bet he'll be standing by having a good look when Batman is fixing his car!

"Well, then," says Batman. "Let me just get my transportation."

And he disappears round the corner of the Sheriff's station, and then we all gasp, because when he appears again he's driving the Batmobile, and it's so long and sleek and black and shiny and crammed with wings and fins and chromium that I think Grandpa would have bet his farm that such a car just can't exist. Where the heck did he park that thing, so that no one noticed it???

Rick's the only one who looks unimpressed. "How the heck does he do that?" I whisper to him.

"Do what?"

"Park that thing where no one sees it?"

"Don't know," he confesses. I stare at him.

"You don't know???

"Naaah," he admits. "You never see the Batmobile, except when he wants you to. He always parks it round a corner. But when you look round the corner, it's never there."

"And you've never tried to find out how he makes it disappear??" I ask, incredulously.

"Hey," he says, sounding hurt. "Batman trusts me, okay? He's promised to tell me all his secrets when I get to be his assistant."

I roll my eyes. Like I would've been okay with that! Rick is more of a boy scout than I thought. He needs someone to teach him the ways of the world, that's for sure.

He needs me. Yep, I realize, that's who he needs.

And I need him.

Batman clears his throat behind me, and I jump. Hmmm. I really need to stop doing that. Jump, I mean.

"You will be riding with me, Rick?" And he's opening the front door of that car. I swear, if the Phantom of the Opera was a long black car, that's what he would look like.

What a thought. Wonder if his car sings, too. It's got to be "The Music of the Night" if it does.

But Rick doesn't seem to want to get inside.

"I've got your bike," Rick says, blushing.

"I know," Batman says mildly. "So you'll ride in my car."

Rick suddenly straightens up. "No," he says. "I'll take your bike. And Clara will ride with me, if she wants to."

That got Mom's attention. "No!" she says.

"No!" Batman says at the same time.

Mom and Batman look at each other, and they are both sort of blushing, and you can see how they reach a split-second agreement between them.

"Okay, then," they both say simultaneously.

And then Mom walks over to the scruffy-looking Ford which must be her rented car. And Rick takes my hand and leads me to where he parked the bike, and all of my body is there in my hand inside his, and I'm blushing like crazy. Yeah, I'm Santa's daughter, so I could be Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer right now and light up the world with my blush.

And then we're all driving toward Grandma and Grandpa's farm. We're like pearls on a string of a very odd necklace, with Grandma and Grandpa leading the way in their old tractor, then Batman following in the Batmobile, then Mom following in her rented Ford, and finally Rick and I making up the rear on Batman's motorbike. I sit on the pillion and hold on to Rick, and I'm aware of him like I've never been before. Suddenly, I want him to turn the bike around and just drive us away, drive anywhere, drive straight into the sunset and out into the wonders of the world so that he and I can cut loose from everything and just have marvellous adventures.

But I don't want to do that, either. I've just found Grandpa and Grandma. I want to be with them.

And I want to be with Mom, too.

The farm appears in the distance. It's nice-looking and well-kept, I guess, but I just know from looking at it that Grandpa and Grandma aren't rich. Maybe they've had some hard times since Dad left them.

Dad....

Dad lived on this farm. He was born here. Except he wasn't. He was born on another world. And he was sent here by his real parents, and then Grandpa and Grandma found him here on Earth, when he was just a little baby. And they raised him, but he left them, so he could go back to the world where he was born.

He left Mom too. And he left me long before I was born.

Where is he now? Where is my Dad?

A dog is barking in the distance. And then I see the dog. It's a golden retriever, very golden-colored, and he's running straight up to Grandma and Grandpa's tractor, yipping and wagging his tail. Then he's standing on his hind legs and pawing the Batmobile, scratching the black paint, and then he's standing by Mom's rented car, barking happily and wagging his tail.

Then he comes to Rick and me. He greets Rick like a long-lost friend, licking him all over his face. And then....

I didn't think a dog could tackle me and make me fall to the ground. But this dog does. He bowls me over, and then he's all over me, licking me everywhere, barking like crazy and jumping and dancing all over me. I swear no one has ever been so madly happy to see me.

"Timothy, that's enough!" Grandpa says, sounding stern. The dog goes still and whimpers. I can't help it, I have to pat his head and caress those lovely soft ears of his.

"That's okay, old boy," I whisper to him. "Just take it a little more easy, huh?" Timothy barks his agreement and just gives my face another good slobbering, so I guess he understood what I said.

"I'll just park the Batmobile," says Batman and drives round the corner of the barn. A moment later he returns. I'm dying to see what happened to the car, so I run round the corner of the barn to have a look.

Nothing! The car is gone!!!!

I can see wheel tracks on the ground, though. But they don't lead anywhere and they don't suddenly disappear. Instead they grow shallower until you can't see them any more. It's downright spooky, I tell you.

I stand by where the wheel tracks just can't be seen any more and then I just feel the air around me. I keep my arms outstretched and feel and grope everywhere. And then, BAM! The car is there!!! I can see it!!! Just like that! Just like it popped in out of nowhere! I sceam and I jump ten feet straight up in the air, I swear I do.

And then Batman is behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. And I scream louder than ever and jump clear over the barn. Then I guess I bounce and come back to where Batman is, and the Batmobile.

I land on top of the Batmobile, too. On the shiny black roof of it. Wouldn't you know I dented it a little?

Rick comes running. Mom comes running. The Kents are old, so they can't run very well, but they sure come walking over in a hurry.

"Clara!" Mom says, looking terrified that something bad has happened to me.

"Clara! Rick says, looking scared himself. Then he does a double take. "The car!" Then his eyes open a little wider as he's looking at it. "What happened to the roof?"

Batman sighs. "I shouldn't have kept this from you, Rick," he says. "And I'm sorry, Clara, Miss Lane. I have a cloaking device for my car, and I should have told you."

"How...?" I squeal.

Batman sighs again. "Well, I'm aquainted with a man who has constructed several advanced props and devices for James Bond movies. He showed me a prototype for a cloaking device, which however wasn't working properly. He gave it to me, and I improved it."

"But the wheel tracks? How do you make them just sort of fade away?"

"I use a wheel track gradual eraser," he says, cool as anything.

"Care to explain?"

"No," he says.

I'm feeling irritated. I don't like that he's keeping secrets from me. But then, I have no right to be angry at Batman, now that I've just dented his car. Come to think of it, I have to apologize.

"I, uh, I, I'm sorry about your car," I stutter. Batman just smiles.

"This car has survived many battles," he says. "My anti-dent spray has worked wonders before."

I just stare at him. "You're joking!"

"Yes," he admits, and those white hollows of his eyes twinkle. "But I do know how to fix that dent, never fear."

Rick's all starry-eyed and happy.

"A cloaking device," he whispers. "Wow."

"And now I have to turn it on again," says Batman. "Like this." He goes over to the car and reaches inside it. And the car just goes away, and all you can see where it used to be are fields and sky.

I look over to where Batman was standing when he flipped or touched something to make that cloaking device turn back on, but then I feel Batman's hand on my shoulder. For some reason I don't jump this time.

"I realize you can find out about my car if you want to, Clara," he says. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't do it." He's actually looking apologetic. He's asking me - asking - to please not try to find out about his secrets. Batman is talking to me like I was his equal, and he's asking me to - well, I think he may be asking me not to destroy things for him. I think he could actually be asking me not to destroy him.

"Mm-hmm," is all I can manage, as I nod dumbly to him.

"Breakfast is ready!" Grandma is calling from the farmhouse. Good thing too, because I sure needed a mood breaker.

We all file into Grandma's and Grandpa's big cosy kitchen. There's this big table laid out with bacon and eggs and pancakes and blueberry jam, and wouldn't you know there is apple pie and custard too?

We all dig in. I can't believe how great it is. One of the few things Mom can cook is oatmeal, so I've had oatmeal for breakfast all my life. But these pancakes, I swear they're out of this world! Batman has already polished off five huge stacks of them. He could've eaten five more, I'm sure, but he probably realized Grandpa and Grandma don't have all the eggs they need to feed the whole U.S. Army, or to give a hungry Batman all the pancakes he can eat. So instead of eating more pancakes Batman cuts a small slice of Grandma's apple pie and puts it on the tiniest plate on the table. He pours some custard on top of it and starts eating with a miniature teaspoon. And it's looking just as crazy as I knew it would. And Batman's spilling custard all right. I run off to get Mom's purse and her cell phone, and then I'm taking pictures like crazy so the kitchen is flashing like the fourth of July fireworks display. And I'm so happy, and I'm giggling, and my mouth is still full of pancakes, and suddenly I'm spluttering pancakes all over the kitchen table. And we're all laughing, Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Batman, Rick and me, and Timothy is yipping and barking.

Then there's a knock on the door.

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tbc...