*Clears Throat*
Um, hi there. *waves hand* There has been a lot of kind encouragement (some of it on the dark side of fic), which led to me striking a deal with Muse. She will deliver parts 5 and 6 in time for me to keep a weekly schedule and I will provide her with sustenance in the form of any FDK part 2 is going to get.
And this time there will even be a second live character besides Lois, instead of just her memories
Michael
Disclaimer: The recognizable characters and settings in this story are the property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a legal right to them, and I have no claim on them whatsoever, nor am I profiting by their use. It’s just the original stuff, that would be mine, written down to bring some entertainment to other FoLC.
The setting is right after “Seasons Greedings” in Season 2.
Blocks in >> << are literal thoughts by the character.
Rating: PG-13
**********
Last time Lois found out that Clark was Superman, had lied to and deceived her for more then a year and even had led her to believe him killed a month earlier. All this sudden influx on her mind left her in a frenzy, not to mention confused over her feelings, and with no Clark to ground her anger, she had no one to help her in finding her balance once more.
But what is a livid Lois hell bound on revenge going to do about it?
Part 2 /
TOC /
Comments **********
Now after she had settled on what her reaction was going to be, Lois needed a plan. Yes, a plan. It’s not like she never planned ahead. Where did this rumor about her jumping without checking the water level first get started anyway? She always had a plan.
She planned on staking out a place. She planned her costumes for her undercover missions. The only thing she did not plan ahead for was taking hold of an opportunity when it presented itself; or getting kidnapped in the process. And, seriously, who could plan for these things, anyway? It’s not like she could foresee it happening. And even if she were expecting to get kidnapped in the first place, there was no telling where her kidnappers would take her. She just had to wing these situations as they presented themselves.
So Lois started to go through her options.
Getting hold of Kryptonite and a baseball bat would not do, for obvious reasons. Kryptonite was in short supply since the Luthor affair and she just had to go off and throw the last piece she knew of into the Bermuda Triangle. Okay, into the ocean off the coast of Florida. Same difference.
However, beating her partner – former partner - into a pulp wouldn’t really do, anyway. What if someone needed his help before he had recovered? He would never forgive her. And neither would she. And besides, she wanted to get even. And he had hurt her emotionally, not physically. He had broken her hea-, erm, he had hurt her. Period.
So she needed something else. Something that would expose him to the world for what he really was: an evil, scheming, conniving bastard with no regard for her fragile heart. So what about writing an exposé? That way every one would know how he had tricked the world. How he had pretended to be dead. How he had caused so much grief and heartache for those that lo-, that depen-, that were his partner – former partner.
But unfortunately, telling the world about who was hiding behind the flashy suit would be just as bad an idea as the beating-up-thing would have been. After all, she was known to be associated with Superman. Another thing to lay at his very clay feet. So if she told the world that Superman was her partner – former partner, her days as a reporter would be over. She would find herself on the other side of the fence, fending off her colleagues.
Okay, so apparently attacking Superman wouldn’t work. But Clark Kent? Clark Kent she could deal with and had dealt with on a daily basis for the last 18 months. Him, she could take revenge on easily.
She could make sure that he never got to publish a significant story under his own byline again. She had been rather successful in cutting him out of the Superman story about those jumpers all those months ago. Okay, Clark had retaliated in quite an unpleasant way. And the whole matter had sort of felt like she had stolen his story, even though she hadn’t.
But this time, this time she would be in the right. Her partner – former partner – had basically outlawed himself when it came to morality. And he had to know it, too. It would not be like the first time, when he hadn’t known that she had just been teaching him a lesson on how to never trust anyone in the newspaper business or let go of a story. So he would not do a thing but sulk at his desk and she would get all the nice Superman stories now that she had an inside track.
If there weren’t that piece inside her. That spark that had almost not survived the first time she had sto- cut him out of a story. She just couldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t allow her partner – former partner – to drag her down into the sewer where he had found his own moral compass of right and wrong.
So she was left with but one option. She had to embarrass him. Shame him into submission. And she knew she could do it, too. She just had to find a hook to do it.
**********
Looking around for the first time since she had come home, Lois noticed the chaos she had left in her wake. The coat hanging dejectedly over her fish tank. The shoes dangling from her – whatever that apartment sized tree was her mother had presented her with two years ago. She had never bothered to check. If it was sturdy enough to survive for two years under Lois Lane’s care, it could survive without a name, too. The sweater and pair of jeans hanging over her love seat and lying on the floor respectively. And the bathrobe she was wearing while digging into a half gallon of Rocky Road emergency ration. Not to mention the tear tracks that had started to dry on her face.
Aside from her own state of appearance, her apartment definitely looked like she imagined Cat’s apartment to look like when she invited a guy over to ‘swing on the chandeliers’. And that last thought gave her an idea on how to get even with that hayseed of a partner – former partner – of hers.
Clark had always looked sort of shy around women. At least when there was someone looking. But when he was alone? Well, she knew about Toni Taylor and his thing for busty blondes. And his ’Me Clark, You Cat’-routine during the Bureau 39 incident was legendary around the coffee maker. Of course, that was all hearsay. But what would happen if his womanizing ways were to be exposed for the entire newsroom to see? Well, let the sweet, innocent hayseed deal with that fallout.
Having finally decided on the desired outcome of her revenge, Lois now only needed to find the means to bring it about. It’s not like she wanted to be associated with the Boy Scout’s fall from grace. And that meant she couldn’t be perceived as the aggressor in all of this or Clark would not be labeled the bad guy. So she had to force Clark to be on display without her apparent interference. He had to run around with a sudden case of tight pants and no means of hiding from his coworkers.
Easier said than done. Lois knew from her own, admittedly limited, experience in this department, that a man’s attention span was not that long. And she couldn’t just blatantly cause Clark’s blood pressure to rise all the time in the middle of the newsroom, now could she? That would render her whole plan of making her partner – former partner – the bad guy sort of moot.
What she needed was a potion. Something that would literally help Clark stand up for what he had done. And while she knew Superman to be invulnerable, her experience told her that he could be affected by all kinds of drugs.
Foremost on her mind was the mess with the Space Rats. Her partner – former partner – had definitely been just as crazy as she had been when he had gotten sprayed by the yellow goo.
And she had a second incident to further establish her chain of evidence. Superman had been exposed to the 100% pheromone solution, and his reaction had certainly shown her that he could be affected, if the drug were just potent enough.
So now she only needed to get her hands on a love potion or something. And it’s not like she could go and visit Miranda in jail and ask her for a 100% sample of her pheromone perfume.
And then she had it!
Vincent Winninger’s formula for increased male potency might just do the trick. Whatever he had meant by it. As long as it helped Clark to keep his blood pressure up, she would be happy.
Lois had always known that one day it would pay off for her that she kept all the background material on her stories. And among them, she knew, was Vincent Winninger’s diary. The one he had handed to her prior to his getting shot. The one with the formula she needed. The one she had conveniently forgotten to mention to Henderson.
Back to single mindedly pursuing her goal, now that she actually had a plan, Lois went to work on digging up the diary from her filing cabinet.
Said filing cabinet showed a surprising likeness with a huge stack of cardboard boxes stuffed into what had at one time been a walk-in closet in Lois’ bedroom. Her filing system, of course, was top of the line as well: the older the story, the farther down and in the back the material was filed.
>>And to think how Clark always used to tease me about my supposed lack of order. Ha, That would teach him!<<
Therefore, it took Lois only a little more than an hour to dig up the right box, and subsequently, the diary. Blowing away the cobwebs and dust from her face, Lois realized that her plan did have a slight drawback. She was no chemist, so she needed someone to actually mix the drug.
Starlabs wouldn’t work. They couldn’t get anywhere with the formula the first time. And besides, how would she get them to do it in the first place?
>>Hi doctor What’s Your Name. I’m Lois Lane and need you to prepare this compound for me. See, it’s research for a story. … What it’s supposed to do? Um, yeah, that’s what I’m try to figure out. … Oh, you tested it on your lab rat and it went all excited about its fellow cage mates? That’s interesting. Could I get the rest of the drug? I need it for, um, archiving purposes.<<
>>Right, that would go over really smooth,<< Lois disregarded her first idea as impractical. She definitely needed someone more discrete. Someone used to crazy schemes himself.
>>Someone like my father,<< a little voice inside her suggested.
Where did that train of thought come from? She couldn’t go to her father with this. Could she?
Just then Lois was overcome by a yawn that could easily have dislocated her jaw. Startled, Lois took a look at the wall mounted clock and almost did a double take. The hands showed well past eleven. Eleven in the evening, that is.
>>Where had the time gone?<<
Lois remembered it being the middle of afternoon when she had gotten home from her little expedition into excavating Clark’s secret life. Apparently, she had managed to kill a good seven hours between then and now.
Well, there wasn’t much she could do tonight, Lois grudgingly admitted to herself. Deciding to give into her body’s need for sleep, she got herself ready for bed. Tomorrow would be hard enough a day, even without her requiring coffee just to stand up straight, must less think coherently.
**********
Lois had a heavy feeling of trepidation, standing in front of Dr. Samuel Lane’s apartment. Here it was. All or nothing. The moment of truth. Once she rang the door bell and her father let her in, there would be no going back.
*Ding-Ding! Ding-Ding!*
Startled by the sound, Lois looked at were her hand still rested on the bell button. It was strange, really, she had absolutely no trouble imagining all the things she wanted to do to her partner – former partner, and yet, asking her father for help left her frozen in fear.
She might still get off the hook. Her father might not be home, though she had no idea where else he would be. It was six in the morning on Monday after Christmas. No one besides shift workers would be out this early. And that applied for her workaholic father as well. Having company stay over, sure; but out working, no, she couldn’t picture it. And that might have been the real reason why she had so much trouble visiting her father. She did not need to see his latest mistress, undoubtedly rivaling Lois’ own age, in her father’s apartment on a Christmas holiday. It just brought back too many bad memories.
*** Christmas Eve 1982 ***
“Oh, come on, Lois, why are you dragging your feet. We are going to see Daddy for Christmas. He is way more fun to be around than Mommy is.”
Fifteen year old Lois rolled her eyes at her little sister.
“Lucy, you are just happy to see Dad because you have only found out this year that there is no Santa Claus and that all the presents that we usually find on Christmas Morning actually come from our parents.”
Lucy dragged Lois past the doorman holding the front door open for them at their father’s apartment building.
“So, what’s that got to do with anything? I happen to love Daddy, even if you don’t,” Lucy returned defiantly at Lois.
“Lucy, you are the most materialistic ten-year-old I have ever known. So don’t tell me you come here for any reason other than the fact that he will send us home with more presents than we can possibly carry alone.”
Lois pressed the call button on the elevator, having resigned herself to spending Christmas Eve with their father.
“And aside from that, the only reason we are here and not at home, is because Mom wanted the day to herself so she can prepare herself for tomorrow when her parents visit and she has to face them for the first time after she and Dad have separated.”
The elevator’s doors opened and the two sisters got in, Lois pressing the button for the fourth floor.
“I don’t believe you, Lois. Daddy loves us and Mommy, and you know it.”
Lois was struck silent for a few seconds, not sure how to answer her little sister without telling her the whole truth about the reason for their parents separation. And it was just a separation. The word divorce sounded way too final and hurtful right now, and to even think about it on Christmas Eve was certainly out of the question.
When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Lucy dashed out and up to their father’s front door, and started to ring the doorbell with all the eagerness of a ten-year-old at Christmas.
Lois managed to catch up with her sister in time to not look flustered when door opened and her father’s smile beamed at them.
“Lois, Lucy, so nice to see you at Christmas! You didn’t bring you Mother along, did you?”
“No, Dad, Mom stayed at home,” Lois interjected before Lucy could catch up on their father’s hesitant tone.
They had just closed the door, when Lois heard a woman’s voice calling out.
“Sammy, Honey, is it the kids?”
Lois was startled and looked up from opening her winter coat to see a peroxide blonde woman – okay, to be fair, woman might be stretching it, so she settled for Barbie doll in her mind – come around the corner from their father’s bedroom.
>>Was that supposed to be a dress, let alone a dress suitable for Christmas? It was barely enough material to hold her huge breasts – they couldn’t be natural…<<
Lois’ mind trailed off when she noticed the strange look on her little sister’s face.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?” she asked, only to see Lucy burst into tears and rushing into her big sister’s outstretched arms.
It was at that moment when Lois realized that their parents’ separation really would become a divorce once the papers went through. Although why their father had to have his twenty-year-old mistress over for Christmas Dinner with his daughters, Lois knew she would never understand.
*** Back to the present ***
That was when Lois heard the gruffy, “I’m coming!” and the unlocking of her father’s front door.
“Now who would ring door bells at six in the mor- Lois? Princess! What a surprise!”
Lois found herself drawn into a hug so completely unexpected, even her quick mind lost all sense of babbling.
“Hi, Dad! A good morning to you, too,” she managed to choke out, while being crushed in her Dad’s bear hug.
What was going on? Her father was normally so distant. He had never really hugged her, or Lucy, for that matter, for as long as she could remember. She sniffed, but no, there was no trace of alcohol on her father’s breath. Not that she had expected it. Her mother was the one drinking, her father’s solution to his problems were women.
“Come in, come in. I just started the coffee maker, do you want a cup?”
Letting herself be dragged into her father’s apartment, Lois noted the absolute absence of any kind of Christmas decoration. Just the smell of fresh coffee and toast – not burned. And she realized that she had never visited her father at Christmas. Not once since he had left them alone at home. And she suddenly couldn’t help the urge to ask him, “Dad, why are you so chipper this morning?”
>>Chipper!? Chipper!? Did I really just use chipper? What is wrong with me?<<
“Lois? What’s the matter? Can an old man not be happy to see his eldest daughter at Christmas?”
Having been through the Lane school for dysfunctional families, Lois had no trouble interpreting the signs indicating her father’s state of mind.
>>Great, my father is depressed. I didn’t come here to deal with a depressed parent. It’s their own fault. They shouldn’t have abandoned us. They could have shown up at my Christmas Dinner, like Clark did. Then he would not have been alone at Christmas.<<
Biting down on her urge to just tell him exactly what she felt about his being depressed, and whose fault it was in the first place, anyway, Lois decided instead to play nice.
“Sure Dad. I’m happy to see you too. I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t want to see you, now would I?”
>>Liar.<<
“So, coffee sounds good. Do you have low fat milk and sugar substitute?”
“Sure, Princess, the sweetener is right there on the table. I’ll get you your coffee and the milk.”
After having taken her first sip of the fresh coffee, Lois deciding to put her cards on the table, since she knew she couldn’t keep up a friendly pretense with her father that much longer.
“Dad, there is a favor I have to ask of you…”
“Yes?”
“It’s for a story. I have gotten hold of a formula, and I need someone to prepare the compound for me.”
“I see,” her father answered in a low voice.
Did she just imagine it, or did her father’s eyes get a decidedly downcast shadow at her request? Was her Dad … hurt? What did he expect, after all? It’s not like he looked her up, or called, or anything, outside of special occasions such as birthdays, Christmas’ and Kerths. And sometimes, not even then, as her failed attempt at a family Christmas Dinner showed.
“I guess it was too much of me to think my daughter might just show up out of the blue for no reason other than to see her old Dad.”
“No Dad, it’s not like that. But you really were the first person to come to mind who could do this.”
Lois took a heavy breath, and wondered how her father had managed to put her on the defensive once again. Even when he was hurt and had no reason to feel that way, he made it look like it was all her fault. She started to think that coming here might have been a really bad idea after all.
“Well, since you are here with a request for my expertise, what exactly is that formula you were talking about?” Apparently over his hurt feelings, her father’s workaholic tendencies seemed to have taken control of the situation.
“Ok, Dad,” Lois started explaining her request. “About a year ago I was working on this story, and my source handed me his diary before he died.”
“He died?” her father interrupted her incredulously.
“Yes, he died. Actually, he got shot while I was in the next room, but the killer never saw me. I was perfectly safe,” she explained, conveniently leaving out the part where Sebastian Finn almost caught her in the bathroom. Or the number of times she almost had gotten killed later on during this particular investigation. That was not something her Dad needed to know right now.
“So, that was how I ended up with the diary. Back then, it was not much more than corroborating evidence for when I finally put together the story. But now I’ve found some other use for it. See, there is this formula in there, which I was hoping you could recreate for me.”
Suddenly feeling the need to establish a credible alibi, Lois continued on explaining her reasons.
“It’s going to be sort of a gift to a friend of mine. Well, more of a gag gift, but it would be perfect, you see. So, what do you think?” With these words Lois extracted the book from her bag and opened it to the page with the formula for him to take a look.
Her father was silent for a long time. Too long, in fact, for it to be a normal thinking pause. And when he finally answered her, it was hardly what she had expected.
“Lois, where exactly did you get this?”
“I told you, a source gave it to me. You know, a reporter never reveals her sources,” she defended herself.
“You told me that he was killed shortly after he gave this to you. So whom are you protecting?”
“No one, Dad, but what does it matter to you who it was, anyway?”
“Because this is Vincent Winninger’s diary.”
Lois was floored. How did her Dad know about Vincent Winninger? He certainly wouldn’t remember her story’s details from a year ago.
“I don’t understand. How do you know about Winninger?” Lois asked cautiously.
“Because I was his business partner. We were planning on marketing the stuff. Of course, then he got killed, and all I had left were some samples and this processing formula.” Her father held up the diary for emphasis. “Winninger had told me that he had written down a description of the plant and its location in the Amazon basin together with the formula. But he wouldn’t budge until we were ready to register the patent. I guess he didn’t trust me completely. I wonder if he realized who you were when he gave you the interview.”
Lois blinked. She was completely shocked. Did every man in her life have a secret one stashed away in the closet? On this note Lois started to wonder if Jimmy would suddenly out himself as gay and Perry as a Heavy Metal fan next. It just was ridiculous!
But her father had almost certainly managed to take the cake, because of all the hair-brained schemes he had cooked up over the years, well, this one was definitely in a class of its own. He had tried to develop a drug meant to alleviate performance problems in the bedroom! Which was obviously going to be sold to middle-aged horn dogs so they could cheat on their wives all day long.
Disgusted, she looked back at him to ask the question most prominent on her mind right now.
“Why? Why a *potency* drug, Dad? Weren’t the boxing robots bad enough? Did you really have to lower yourself to developing something like that?”
“What do mean by ‘lowering myself to something like this’? If we had gotten this project off the ground, I would now be making millions from selling the pills.”
Lois realized that her Dad was upset, and she needed to calm him down if she still wanted his help. And since she was slightly off beat due to his revelation right now, she almost missed his next retort.
“And by the way, Lois, what business do you have criticizing my plans for marketing the very thing you just asked me to make for you?”
When had her Dad gotten so quick witted? That was her specialty. The Lane trademark. She never let anyone get the better of her.
“Um, Dad, *I* was trying to come up with a *gag* gift for a friend of mine. *You* were trying to *sell* a potency drug. I believe there is quite a difference there, don’t you agree?” Lois replied smugly while silently congratulating herself on an argument well delivered.
“Okay, Princess, whatever you say. I have learned a long time ago that it is pointless to argue with Lane women. But the Lois I know would not even consider buying regular gag gifts for her friends, much less one that she would consider sleazy in the worst possible way. So this has to be personal. And believe me, as your father I don’t want to know any details about what happens behind your bedroom doors. But since you are obviously thinking about spicing up your love life, I just hope you are careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Lois suddenly didn’t understand what was going on. How had her request for Winninger’s formula translated into her getting all kinky in the bedroom? That was exactly why she had told her Dad about this being a gag gift. She definitely wasn’t up to her A-game today if her Dad could corner her that easily. This was when she got an out.
“But since you obviously have gotten serious enough with that man to consider something like this, why haven’t you told me before that you were seeing someone?”
“WHAT?” Lois uttered in a choked scream. “First, I’m *not* seeing anybody, either seriously, or casually. And even if I were, did it ever cross you mind that I might have tried to introduce him to my family during Christmas Dinner!? The one all of you backed out of at the last possible minute?”
She was back in the ring, and now she didn’t intend to give her father another chance at turning the tables.
“I have no intention whatsoever of personally testing your potency drug’s effects with whatever fictitious boyfriend you imagine I might have. The whole thing *is* for a friend of mine and if you don’t believe me, that’s too bad. I just thought my Dad would like to help me out, since you did not come to see me at Christmas, but apparently I was wrong. So, if you could give me back the diary, I’m going to find something else for a gift.”
With those words, Lois grabbed the diary from her father’s startled hands and turned towards the coat rack next to the front door.
“Lois, wait. I meant it when I said that I didn’t want to fight. I was just worried about my eldest daughter, okay? If you really still want the stuff, I can help you.”
Lois grinned faintly before turning back around to face her Dad. It had worked like a charm. She just knew that her father would never give up the chance to get his hands on the diary and thereby gain access to information he needed to rejuvenate his stalled endeavor.
“I’m listening,” she answered, her arms folded across her chest, diary resting against her shoulder.
“I still have a couple of the pills left. There is no reason why they shouldn’t still be working. You let me borrow the diary, and I give you what I have left at my lab. Deal?”
“Deal! When can we go to get them?” Lois jumped at the deal she had meant to bring about since her Dad mentioned he had some samples left over from his experiments.
“Well, I hadn’t intended to go into the office until later today, but since you seem so eager to get your hands on the pills…,” her father trailed off.
She had the distinct impression that her Dad’s gratuitous reluctance was more acting than anything, now that he had a real shot at getting his project back on the street.
**********
Back home, Lois looked at the small vial, holding ten white gelatinous capsules, none longer than her thumbnail. She had taken good care to memorize her father’s instructions.
One pill, taken about half an hour before the act. The exact time depended on the person’s metabolism and how much his stomach had to do at the time. Once dissolved and absorbed into the bloodstream, the agents influenced the muscles, effectively keeping the blood pressure on a steady high until they were broken down by the body an hour or two later. Or something like that. But just to be on the safe side, she was going to up the dosage a bit. He was Superman, after all.
Now, with the core part of her plan secured, Lois only had to prepare the logistics and atmosphere she would need for her revenge. And she only had a week left to do so, before Clark would be back from Smallville on Monday after New Year, and that was beside her day job’s requirements on her time.
**********
tbc
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Okay, now that the drug thing is out in the open, I thought I'd get into how this piece of fanfic got to come about. So, well, it all started with jojo_da_crow’s “The Umbrella's Untimely Demise”, part 1 of which is posted
here . During FDK’ing I suddenly had the image of Lois standing there in a smug pose, a lipstick in hand and her lips glowing green. Ok, suddenly might exaggerate it a bit, it was actually Ann’s (TOC’s) remark “Got any Kryptonite, Lois?”), which just had to remind me of all the “Got milk”? ads. This post lead to me distracting Coolgirl and during a discussion with her on how to expand on the lipstick plot, the original idea behind this fic was born.
Unfortunately, it did not survive my mental character censorship, mainly because I couldn’t see Lois willingly endangering innocent bystanders just to get her revenge. But then I hope that Lois using much more every day means of exacting her revenge will be just as entertaining, not to mention evil, than an elaborate plot involving green Kryptonite and drugs in something similar to Super Stud by ML Thompson. But just in case I ever find it in my heart to completely forgo established canon events, Lois might come up with red Kryptonite to get even with Clark for some other misdeed he has done to her.
Michael
