This is the story I wrote fot the fundraiser last year. I'd appreciate feedback to find out if anyone thinks it's worth a sequel.
Disclaimer: The familiar characters and settings in this story are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions, et al, and I have no claim on them, nor do I profit by their use. Any new scenes, characters, and the story itself, however, belong to me.
This story is in the timeline of the series. Operation Blackout aired on October 30th. Halloween begins the next day.
Halloween
By Nan Smith
Rated: PG
"You're buying Halloween candy *now*?" Clark Kent asked, a slight note of incredulity in his voice.
Lois nodded decisively, steering her shopping cart between rows of shelves that held the occasional bag of candy. The place looked as if a horde of rampaging barbarians had nearly stripped it bare. "I always wait until the last minute."
"Why?" Clark asked, mystified. "Do you get some kind of discount or something?"
"Sort of." Lois fished through the bags of rejected sweets, selecting the best of the leftovers for her cart. "If I buy them too soon, I eat all the chocolate and have to come back and buy more. And then, I have to diet like crazy and increase my gym workouts to lose the extra weight, too. It's easier to do it this way. Besides," she added, gesturing at the stripped shelves, "there's practically no chocolate left by this time, so I'm not as tempted."
"Oh," Clark said. Put that way, she had a point. "Okay, I guess I see what you mean...."
Lois nodded again as she picked up two bags of bubble gum and added it to the growing pile of candy. "That should do it. I just leave it in a big bowl outside my door. There's normally a little left behind when it's over, so I bring that to the office the next day. Somebody usually eats it."
"If you like chocolate, though," Clark added, somewhat unwisely, "why don't you just eat it?"
"Because I don't want to weigh five hundred pounds," Lois said. "We've been through this before, Clark. I love chocolate, but I have to watch how much I eat. Just because you don't gain an ounce when you eat all that junk you eat, doesn't mean other people don't."
Clark prudently shut up. It was his confirmed opinion that Lois would be beautiful if she weighed twice her current weight, but she wasn't going to believe that, so he shelved the argument as fruitless. "So, you don't answer the door on Halloween?"
"Nope. Besides, I'm not going to be home."
"Oh? Got a date?"
"Not exactly. Perry assigned me to cover the Mayor's shindig tonight. The Metro Halloween Ball."
"Ah, I see," Clark said. "Sounds like fun."
Lois rolled the cart up to the checkout, and they waited while the checker rang up her purchases. She paid what looked to Clark like a staggering amount of money for a bunch of second-rate candy and they gathered up the bags.
"Not for me," Lois said, continuing the previous conversation as they carried the three grocery bags of sweets out of the store. "Perry knows I hate these things, but the only other person free to go to this social embarrassment is Mortie. You're lucky you have the day off."
"Mortie?" Clark envisioned the quiet little man. "Maybe he'd enjoy it."
"Mortie's an alcoholic. He avoids that sort of event like poison."
"Oh. I guess I should mind my own business."
"Oh, it's sort of general knowledge, but nobody thinks about it anymore," Lois explained. "He nearly got fired three or four years ago, but then he went on the wagon, and he's got some kind of agreement with Perry not to be sent to any event where they serve alcohol. He's a mean drunk: picks fights with authority figures before he reaches the falling-down stage."
"*Mortie?*" Clark kept his voice low, but he was startled for all that.
"Yeah, and since he used to be with Army Special Forces in Vietnam, it makes him dangerous. It was a case of dry up or be locked up." Lois shrugged. "I guess he's got enough self-discipline that when he nearly killed somebody in a bar fight, he decided he had to do something drastic. He's really a nice guy when he's sober."
"I guess so," Clark said, after a stunned instant. He'd talked with Mortie on the job and sized him up as a shy, mild-mannered person. It just showed how you could misjudge someone, he thought. Still, the man had realized his problem and taken steps to bring it under control, so that spoke well of him.
"Well," he said, after a moment. "What *would* you rather be doing besides going to this party?"
"Oh, I don't know." Lois started the Jeep's engine. "After everything that happened with Ryan Wylie and Molly, and nearly getting annihilated by the Hawkeye satellite --" She sighed. "I guess I had my Halloween party early."
"You didn't take me seriously, did you?" Clark asked, suddenly concerned. "You're a great friend. You have to know I mean that. The Planet wouldn't be nearly the paper that it is without you. I was just poking fun at you."
"I know," she said. "It's just that it made me think. How many people do I spend time with? -- other than at work, I mean. How many real friends do I have? Molly and I used to be great friends, but I stopped being her best friend because of Ryan. He was a user and she didn't see it, but he drove me straight up the wall. I guess after he tried to hijack the Hawkeye satellite, yesterday, kill her and me, and blackmail the country into the bargain, she believes me, but if I'd stayed around maybe she would have seen the truth about him without having to go through all that stuff -- but I didn't. And there was Linda -- she didn't think twice about our friendship when it came to a man. She stole my story - well, you know about all that. And then I turned around and did the same to you, and told myself that I was doing it for your own good -- but I really knew better. No wonder people don't think of me as a good friend."
"Lois, that was over a year ago, before we knew each other well. You're the best friend I ever had."
"I nearly ruined that too, with Lex," Lois said. No one else would have noticed the slightly constricted quality to her voice, but no one else on Earth had his hearing. Lois was holding back tears. "I nearly lost you and Perry and Jimmy; the Planet was blown up -- if it hadn't been for you, I'd be married to Lex, and probably miserable. If I'd actually figured out by now that he was a criminal, the situation might be worse than that."
"But none of that happened," Clark pointed out.
"Because of you," she said. "I was as blind as a bat. I couldn't -- or *wouldn't* -- see what he was in spite of what you told me. Maybe *because* of what you told me. I was in such an adversarial situation with you, my friend and partner, that I nearly married one of the worst criminals of the modern day. I was so self-centered that I didn't care who I hurt as long as I was right. That's not the behavior of a good friend."
"Lois, that isn't true," he contradicted. "There were a lot of reasons for the way you acted. Luthor was very good at manipulating people, and he put a lot of work into manipulating you." Clark had to bite back the temptation to tell her the truth: that his determination to save her in spite of her resistance had sprung from the fact that he loved her and that the thought of what her life would be like, tied to a sociopath like Luthor, had been almost physical agony to him. She didn't want to hear that from him. She was far more comfortable thinking of him as a friend. He could hardly blame her, of course, after what she had been through. He shouldn't have teased her about it yesterday. She hid it well, but the damage Luthor had done couldn't be erased that easily. "I shouldn't have come across like a jealous jerk. You're a terrific friend. I couldn't wish for a better one."
"You could," she said, "but I'm glad you don't. I get massively competitive and shut my friends out, and treat them badly because I have to be the best. When you were nominated for the Kerth, I couldn't stand it that you were nominated and I wasn't -- I don't know how you put up with me."
"It was a little frustrating at the time, but after we got it straightened out, it was all right," Clark said. "You wouldn't be Lois Lane if you weren't competitive. Cut yourself a little slack. Besides, competing with you has made me sharpen my own reporting skills. It's easy to get lazy if you don't have some stiff competition."
She cleared her throat. "You're right," she said with sudden briskness. "You're a Kerth-winning writer, and that makes me work harder to be the best."
"Exactly," Clark said. "It's one of the things I l -- like about you. So don't worry about whether or not you're a good friend. You're my best friend, and that's all there is to it."
She threw him a slightly watery smile. "All right, I won't. Thanks, Clark."
"Don't mention it." He hoped she hadn't noticed his near-slip. "So, what would you rather do tonight?"
"It doesn't matter," Lois said briskly. "I have to be at the Halloween ball and that's the end of it. Perry wouldn't take no for an answer, so I'm just going to have to be professional about it and do my job."
"If you want me to, I'll do it for you. I can use your pass, and we can always just put your name on the article. You've done it for me a couple of times."
She shook her head. "No. I'd just be sticking you with a job I hate, and I'm sure you have other plans for the evening. But you could help me with my costume." She seemed to shake off the unaccustomed mood. "I'll be all right, Clark. You know me. Hide like a rhinoceros. I heard Wally compare me to one the other day."
"Wally is full of --" Clark bit off the unflattering metaphor. "Well, anyway, he doesn't know you like I do. What kind of costume is it?"
"I'm going as Marie Antoinette," Lois said. "Maybe there'll be so many of us that people will leave me alone. I need some help getting the wig on straight, though."
"Okay." He forbore to mention that he had to be at the Halloween ball as well. The ball was a charity event, and men and women bought tickets for the privilege of attending. One of the incentives to lure in guests was a drawing for prizes, and on the earnest solicitation of the Mayor's wife, dinner with Superman was the grand prize for the women's drawing. He did this kind of thing all the time in the name of charity but suddenly he wished that he could accompany Lois tonight instead. His partner seemed to be unusually introspective and somber this evening. Probably it was just the reaction to the whole mess yesterday, he told himself. Lois wasn't nearly as sure of herself as she pretended, which was why she was so compulsive about being the best, no matter what. It was as if she had to repeatedly prove to the world that there was no one better. Or, more likely, prove to her father, and to herself, that the last time wasn't a fluke, wasn't an accident, that Lois Lane really was the best. That competitiveness had cost her friends more than once, and Clark thought that in some ways Lois was more isolated than he was.
He followed her into her apartment and waited while she poured the candy into a large, plastic tub and set it outside her door. The trick-or-treaters would be coming around soon, and the festivities started in about an hour and a half. Plenty of time.
Lois disappeared into her bedroom. He heard her moving around, and the rustling of cloth. After at least fifteen minutes, she emerged in costume, her hair pinned up, with the wig in her hand. "Clark, can you get this thing on straight? I can't quite seem to manage it."
"Sure," he said. He took the wig and examined it, then eased it onto her hair. "How's that?"
"I think that'll do," Lois said. "I don't know what it was, but it just wouldn't go on straight when I did it. Okay, let me just pin it on and I'm ready."
**********
In the Suit, two hours later, Clark walked up the steps of the convention hall. Music spilled from the doors and windows, and the chatter of voices could be clearly heard by any passersby. He had dropped Lois off here some ten minutes previously and watched as she trudged resignedly up to the entrance, produced her press pass and entered the building. Well, he was here to help raise money for breast cancer research, so he'd better get in there and let himself be seen.
"Hold it, buddy." The burly fellow taking the tickets blocked the entrance. "Ticket, please."
"I don't have one," he said. "I'm not a guest. I'm a door prize."
"Yeah, right. Get lost, pal. Nobody gets in here without a ticket."
"I'm Superman," he said. "I'm here for the drawing."
The ticket-taker looked him up and down. "Sure you are. Superman's a lot taller than you, buddy. Beat it."
Clark sighed, levitated several feet into the air and floated through the door. He didn't look back.
Inside, the room was crowded with people in all kinds of costumes from the standard Robin Hood and Maid Marian to the wildly fantastic. He saw at least a dozen Marie Antoinettes and none of the ones in view were Lois. There were several Superman impersonators as well as a number of Batmen and Batwomen, a Luke Skywalker with the inevitable lightsaber and half a dozen Darth Vaders. Princess Leia was also evident in different parts of the room, and a Tin Woodman brandished his aluminum axe as he danced with Tweetie. Slowly but steadily, he wended his way through the crowd toward the back of the room. There was Lois, he saw, in conversation with a man dressed in a metallic tunic with a sword swinging from his belt and sporting a small beard. Clark paused for an instant, trying to dredge up in his mind who the fellow was supposed to be, but nothing came to mind immediately. Well, the committee handling the drawing was probably wondering where he was, so he'd better go check in.
**********
Out of the corner of her eye, Lois saw Superman stride through the crowd. He was the real one, she was certain, especially when compared to the other ones here tonight. There was just something about the way he walked and held himself that marked him as the genuine article. One of the women's door prizes this evening was a date with him, as had been announced in the Daily Planet last week, in order to help boost the ticket sales. The ploy had worked, as the number of women here seemed to exceed the number of men by a considerable margin. If she recalled correctly, the best door prize among the ones available for the men was a pair of tickets to the Metropolis Tigers' game against Gotham City next Tuesday.
The guy in the metallic shirt was still hanging around. She excused herself in an undertone and hurried after Superman, aware that the bearded man was looking after her with a faint smile.
There Superman was, talking to the Mayor's wife where she sat at the table reserved for the people actually putting on this event. The woman was leaning forward to emphasize her decolletage and batting her eyelashes at the hero, who, to his credit, did not appear to notice. He smiled and nodded several times, and got to his feet at last.
"Superman!" Lois called.
He turned his head and smiled. "Hello, Lois. Are you here for the party or on duty for the Planet?"
"The second, I'm afraid," Lois said. "Can I get an interview?"
He hesitated and then nodded. "Sure. The drawing isn't until ten."
"Maybe I'll stick around," Lois said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but she could see he wasn't fooled even as she spoke. "I've got a ticket, too. Where do you intend to take the winner?"
"I was thinking of dinner in Italy," he said. "And then dancing in Brazil."
"It sounds nice," Lois said, wondering why the usual enthusiasm wasn't there. Superman was just as handsome as he always was, but somehow she kept thinking of Clark as she had seen him in the Jeep, asking her if she was sure she didn't want him to take her place. He had known how much she hated these things and wanted to help. Clark was probably one of the few real friends she had and certainly the closest. She wished she had been able to spend the evening with him. If he'd been able to come with her, she was sure she'd have enjoyed the party far more than she was going to.
Superman smiled in sympathy. "You don't like masquerade balls do you?"
"It's not that," she said. "I wish Clark were here with me, that's all."
She thought his eyes widened a little. "Clark?"
"Yes." She didn't think that needed explaining.
"I'm sure he wishes he could be here, too," Superman said. He raised his head as the orchestra began to play a waltz. "Even if I'm not Clark, would you like to dance?"
She summoned a smile. This was her dream man, after all. "Sure. But shouldn't you be dancing with somebody important?"
"I'm my own man until I get auctioned off," he said with a grin.
She found herself laughing. "I notice there are almost twice as many women here tonight as men. Is there an alternate prize for married women?"
"I sure hope so!" Superman said, a look of comical dismay on his face. "Actually, I'm pretty sure there is."
"That's good," Lois said. "I guess being the world's most eligible bachelor has its downside, huh?"
"Actually, I'm really not that eligible," he said, surprising her. "I can't get married, Lois. Any woman I married would be the target of every criminal in the world who wanted to control me. Some of them have already targeted you, just because people know you're a friend of mine. Think how much worse it would be if I had a wife."
"I suppose so," she said. "If you ever did marry, I guess you'd have to do it secretly."
"At the very least!" he said.
They were silent for several minutes, moving in time to the music. Superman was an excellent dancer, Lois found herself thinking. As good as Perry, or Clark. She wondered where he had learned it.
"Clark said he learned ballroom dancing from a Nigerian princess," she remarked.
"Did he?"
"Yes. He told me that once, not long after we first met. I guess it must have been while he was traveling. Where did you learn?"
"Here and there," he said, and dipped her deeply. "A friend of mine taught me most of it."
Again they were silent.
"So," Lois said after a minute, "what are you going to do on this date besides dinner and dancing?"
"Probably take her for a night flight above the clouds before I take her home," Superman said. "After all, this is for charity. I owe it to whoever wins to make it a good date, if she was willing to pay money for it."
"You always honor the spirit of a deal as well as the letter of it, don't you?"
"Of course."
The music ended and Superman bowed slightly to her. "Thanks for the dance, Lois."
"You're welcome. You're a very good dancer."
"Thank you. So are you." He led her from the dance floor. "I guess I need to dance with some of those 'important people' you mentioned. I hope you'll save another one for me before the drawing."
"Sure," she said. "Do you see an empty chair anywhere? I might as well sit down for a while."
"Right this way," Superman said. "And let me get you something to eat before I take off. It's the least I can do."
"Thanks," she said.
**********
True to his word, he reappeared for the final dance before the drawing, and Lois had the good fortune of a second dance with Superman in one evening. Then she stood near the front of the crowd and watched as the tickets were drawn and the prizes were awarded. As might be expected, Superman was won by a society debutante barely out of her teens, who had apparently accompanied her parents to the ball. Her sharp squeal of delight when she realized that she had won nearly made Lois drop her notepad. After the drawing, Lois circulated through the crowd, and located the winner for a short interview. Superman, on her arm, maintained a pleasant, polite expression while Lois asked her questions, and answered a few directed at him. At last, her duty completed, Lois headed for the coatroom. Clark had promised to park the Jeep for her and then walk home. It was only a few blocks, he'd assured her, and he had an errand to take care of anyway.
When she stepped out into the chilly evening, the first thing she noticed was that it had clouded over, and a brisk breeze was blowing. She headed for the lot, feeling in the pocket of her coat for the keys. At least Halloween was over for another year.
A sharp blow to the base of her skull ended that thought and every other one for the time being. She didn't feel it when she hit the ground.
**********
tbc
