Here's submission number 3.
Guess away.
Queer Eye For The Fly Guy
"He's a man," Perry said, putting an end to the argument with one angry swipe of his hand. "I've let you take a lot of risks for a story, Lois, but I refuse to allow you to take this one. It would be far worse for you if these people discovered who you are."
"Clark's just as likely to end up dead as I am!"
"What if you don't end up dead?" Clark asked, his features grim. "I think that's Perry's point. They're trafficking human beings, forcing women into prostitution. If they found out about you--. Well, we just don't want to see that happen to you."
"It won't..." Lois started but the resolute look in Perry's eye shut her up.
"I'll call when I can," Clark told them as he stood up.
"Be careful," Perry warned.
Clark nodded and then looked at Lois.
She scowled at him, still upset that he was going to get this story simply because he had a Y chromosome and she didn't.
"Go," she spat out with a shrug. "Go get your Pulitzer. I'll just stay here and write about safe things."
"That's not what this is," Perry grumbled.
Lois stood up, pushing past Clark roughly as she stalked towards the door. "That's exactly what this is. Don't sugar coat it."
"She'll see the sense in it eventually," Perry told Clark after the door had slammed shut behind her.
"No, she won't. Or, at least, she'll never admit that," Clark said glumly.
Perry grinned. "Probably not. Be careful, son."
------
It took her almost two weeks to stop fuming and start talking to Perry again. By that time, Clark was long gone and Lois wondered how long it would be before he could contact them. Was he even in Metropolis anymore? Had they figured him out and killed him already?
No wagering, she told herself. That was one bet she didn't want to win.
Something moved in her peripheral vision and she turned to see her curtains billowing. Lois rushed to the window, her heart in her throat as she hoped that it was really him.
It was. Superman was outside her window. She stepped back, pulling the curtains aside in silent invitation. He was still coming through the window when she asked, "Do you know where he is?" Lois was absolutely certain Superman would know who she meant.
She saw a muscle in his cheek flex as he regarded her seriously. Oh god, she thought. He's dead. Clark is dead and he doesn't know how to tell me.
"Yes," he said softly.
"Is he-- OK? He's not hurt, is he?"
"No, he's fine." Superman looked around her apartment as if he had never seen it before. Lois had the distinct impression that he was nervous.
"Then what is it?"
"Clark, uh--. The other members of the gang are becoming suspicious of him because he's not indulging in, uh, companionship."
Lois froze, her mind racing as she fought a little shiver of glee. Clark couldn't do it on his own. He should have listened to her and taken her along. "So Clark needs a girlfriend?" she asked as she fought a smile. "Did he ask you to ask me?"
The muscle jumped in his jaw again. "I shouldn't have come here," he mumbled and turned as if he were about to leave.
Lois darted forward and caught hold of the side of his cape, bringing him up short. "I'll do it. Of course, I'll do it."
Superman turned and gave her a shake of his head. "I don't think you understand just how dangerous that would be."
"But I'll be with Clark, right?" Her heart was hammering painfully in her chest and she realized that, as much as she wanted the story, she wanted to see Clark again even more. "He'll keep me safe, I know he will. Please, Superman, let me help him."
He was wavering, she could see that. She knew from sorry experience that Clark would sacrifice his own life to protect her. It went both ways - surely Superman understood that? If Clark was in trouble, she wasn't going to just sit here and do nothing.
"This is for Clark," she reminded him. "You were worried enough about him to come here tonight, so let me help him. I promise you, now that I know he's in trouble, I'll find him one way or another. You can't just fly away and leave me here to worry about him."
"OK," he said with a sigh. Then he shook his head and she could see that he was upset.
"OK." Happiness flooded through her at the thought that she was going to see Clark again - and soon. "What do I need to bring with me?"
"You'll need a disguise," he said, his tone quiet.
"Like what? What kind of women are the other girlfriends? Floozies?"
"Yes. That's a fair assessment."
"Then we're in luck. I can do floozy."
She saw his eyebrow lift just a little before his cheeks reddened slightly and he looked away.
------
She came back out into her living room several minutes later dressed in a short black leather miniskirt, a hot pink halter top that plunged deeply in the front and four inch high stiletto heels. She had applied heavier make-up and her hair was now teased and hairsprayed until it looked like a tropical bird's plumage. "How's this?" she asked him.
Superman's eyes went wide as he looked her over. "Uh, that's not exactly what I meant," he told her. "That skirt is too, uh, too short, too tight. And those shoes-- You're going to want to be able to run fast, if you need to."
"So you want me to wear sensible shoes and a long skirt? Superman, do you understand the meaning of the word 'floozy'?"
He coughed to hide a laugh. "All too well. What if you wore a different shirt, instead? Something that would make it possible for you to wear a, a, a--" His hand gestured frantically for her to understand.
"A bra?" she teased.
"Yes," he breathed, grateful that she had comprehended his meaning.
"Does it mean that much to you?" she asked coyly.
Something sparked deep in his eyes that sent an excited little thrill through her. "Not to me," he said pronouncing each word distinctly. "But I think you're going to want to be able to cling to at least a shred of dignity once you get there."
"Fine. You come pick one out. I'll wear whatever you suggest."
He gave her a curt nod, walking ahead of her into the bedroom, his cape swaying confidently as he strode to her closet and looked it over. He reached out, his fingers gliding over the fabric of several shirts before he stopped and pulled one out.
"How about this one?" He held up a white linen shirt with long sleeves.
"That's more 'librarian' than 'floozy'," she told him as she wrinkled her nose at his choice.
"Your skirt and shoes say otherwise," he countered.
Lois rolled her eyes and took the shirt from him. "All right, then. I'll rock the naughty librarian look, just for you."
"For Clark," he told her with a smile and took a step backwards towards the door. "I thought you were doing this for Clark."
"The shoes are for Clark," she told him with a saucy smirk. "The shirt is for you."
-------
He was left speechless when she reappeared from the bedroom. She was wearing the shirt - but she had left the top three buttons undone, fastened the middle two, and then tied the remainder of the shirt just below her breasts to leave her stomach bare. She had put on a bra - the black lace was clearly evident through the fabric.
"How's this?" she asked with a grin that indicated she knew exactly what effect it would likely have on him.
"I think it matches perfectly with your shoes," he said evenly.
Lois laughed at his attempt at diplomacy. "This night's not getting any younger. Shall we go?"
He held up his hands as if he was waiting for a hug and she stepped closer to him. It didn't matter how many times she had flown with Superman, she still got excited butterflies in her stomach when he held her. Lois put a tentative hand on his shoulder, as if to reassure herself that he was real, before she slid her arm around his neck. With her heels on, she was almost eye to eye with him and she found herself a little giddy as his hand made contact with the bare skin of her lower back. The giddiness turned into dizziness as he bent and slipped his other arm beneath her knees. When he straightened up she was cradled firmly against his chest.
The filmy fabric of her drapes tickled past her legs and then they were flying, lifting higher into the cool night air. Lois cleared her throat and watched his profile as she asked, "So how did you know that Clark was in trouble? Did you talk to him?"
"I, uh, I saw him earlier tonight. He'd overheard the others talking and he was a little worried that his cover might be blown soon."
"But he didn't ask you to bring me?"
"Not exactly."
"Did he hint that he wanted me there?" Lois persisted.
"He never said it out loud. It's almost like he wished it and I just showed up to make it happen, if you can believe that."
"I'll believe anything you tell me," she said with a giggle. "But I'm going to be a little nervous if you tell me that you can read minds."
"I can't read your mind," Superman said and his fingers seemed to tighten a little on her legs. "You're still a mystery to me, Lois."
"Then we're even. You're a huge mystery to me."
He didn't say anything, just tilted his body as he brought them down gently in a darkened alley. "Wait here," he whispered. "I'll go get Clark."
Less than a minute passed before she heard Clark stage-whisper, "Lois?"
She stepped out of the alley and grinned happily at him. He was alive and well and she couldn't stop herself from hugging him in gratitude. "I told you that you'd need my help."
Clark smiled and tightened his arms around her, exhaling a sigh against her cheek. "For the record, I didn't exactly ask you to do this. I was told you volunteered. Nice shirt, by the way."
"Thanks. Superman picked out it."
Clark gave her a wink. "That's why he's my hero."
