Omigosh!
Sue is JDG?!? How did I miss that?
Although I was lurking more than not in 2007, I simply loved all of JDG's stories. Short and poignant, funny and brilliant and all of them freaking amazing. Somehow I missed this one, so thank you for posting it to the archives.
"So you'd only give up Luthor for Superman?" His voice sounds odd, like he's holding back a sneeze of his own.
I suck in a sharp breath. That was low! "Do you really think I'm that shallow?"
Snort! Actually, now that you mention it... Oh, wait. BatP hasn't happened yet. Moving on...
There's a long silence and I feel a little dizzy - although maybe that's the dark affecting my equilibrium and not the fact that I'm standing close enough to Clark that I can smell the spicy clean scent of his soap and aftershave. It's irritating that he should smell so nice when he's such a putz.
And this is why I love you...r stories. I love your stories.
"In that context, sure. But the plural of fish is fish."
"Says you. When we get out of here, I'll show you in a dictionary. For someone who makes his living with words, you're certainly a lunkhead."
"I don't think 'lunkhead' is a word either." I can hear the laughter in his voice as he says that and I just want to smack him again.
Instead, I take a deep breath and count to ten as I release it. Patience, I tell myself. Patience. If you kill him, you'll have to explain to Henderson how he drove you to justifiable homicide.
I simply adore the lexicon argument. Yes, Lois has made up a word for each Kerth (chumpy, lunkhead and Superman), but I melted when Lois admits to Clark that she's looking for someone who she can trust.
"I trust you, Clark." The words are so quiet and unexpected that I'm not even sure I really said them until his hand tightens in mine.
"You do?"
"With everything," I add, feeling my throat start to close off. "I don't know how that happened, but you're my best friend, Clark.
/me melts. Like so many others, I loved the line about Lois contemplating a future that involves bearing Clark's children.
And then you turn on the angst. I love how your give us the revelation in the midst of a terrifying situation. Lois' panic over Clark dying was palpable and then you tempered it with humor.
"You," I say hoarsely. "You're--" I can't make myself say the name. The name that was never really his. I made up that name - not him. "You're you," I finish, feeling the utter lameness of that statement.
Simply lovely. Thanks for sharing.
