As a longtime lurker, I finally decided to take the plunge and post a story I had written some time ago. It's mostly finished, so I plan to post regularly. I've not had the benefit of a beta reader, so I'll be happy to incorporate feedback into cleaning up the future parts. Since it's alt-beginning, the first part is background to help set the scene. I hope you enjoy.
Title: Alchemical Attraction
Rated: PG
Summary: In this alternate beginning, Lois and Clark meet four years prior to the events of the Pilot episode while investigating villainous chemists at a journalism workshop in upstate New Troy.
Lois kept her shoulders straight and her head high even as the hinges of the heavy, wooden door creaked as she opened it, trying to slip unobtrusively into the already filled room. As she carefully pulled the door shut behind her, she scanned the chairs for an open seat, finding one on the left side of the room, in the second row. Attempting to appear unconcerned at her tardiness, she casually dropped herself into the open chair, keeping her eyes on the speaker at the front of the room.
Although she had only been working at the Daily Planet slightly over a year, Perry had nominated her, Lois Lane, to attend the Investigative Journalism Workshop at the prestigious Norcross Journalism Center, a few hours north of Metropolis. She was excited to have a chance to hear from some of the best reporters in the country and learn a few tricks of the trade. Lois lived for the thrill of the investigation, and she’d had quite a few scoops and successes in her past year at the Planet. However, as her sister Lucy was constantly reminding her, sometimes it was nice just to slow down and live a little. A full week of intensive training in the middle of upstate New Troy would feel like a vacation after a year of nonstop investigating.
She had been trying so hard to prove to her editor, Perry White, and everyone else at the Planet that she was a good reporter, but it was starting to take a toll on her emotionally. Living out of a dorm like a college student again for seven days didn’t thrill her, but Lois tried to think about how nice it was to be in the middle of the Center’s beautiful campus.
Lois crossed her legs and fidgeted in her chair as she tried to get comfortable. She had been told that the journalism workshop was being held in an old college, but being faced with the reality of hard wooden chairs was something else.
Gazing out the window to her left, she had to admit that the old Luthor College was an attractive setting, even if many of the buildings were still boarded and shuttered while the Center was working on funding to renovate them for use in the journalism workshops. The campus buildings were a mix of old brick behemoths and smaller, wooden buildings with white clapboard exteriors. Lois hoped for a chance to go inside many of the buildings and see what the interiors looked like.
The room she was currently sitting in was obviously an old classroom. Wooden desks were aligned in rows near the front, with a battered chalkboard hiding behind a newer projection screen. It was unlike anything that she had seen during her college days, so thankfully the room didn’t bring any old memories to surface. While in college, Lois had spent all her free time either working for the school newspaper or volunteering for one social organization or another. Sadly, she realized that she didn’t have any college friends that she had even wanted to keep in touch with after graduation. There was never anyone that she had felt like getting close to after her friend, Linda, had betrayed her during their junior year.
Contenting herself that the speaker wasn’t saying anything more earth shattering than the official welcome propaganda, Lois took the opportunity to look around the room at her colleagues after settling herself into her seat.
She counted eighteen other people in the classroom, not including the speaker and another woman sitting off to his right. Most looked to be anywhere from mid-twenties to mid-thirties, with a sprinkling of older people rounding out the group. She was fortunate that she didn’t have far to travel to attend as she tried to guess where the other attendees were from. One woman’s tanned skin and long, blonde hair pegged her as obviously someone from a California or Florida newspaper. Another woman’s frumpy dress and sensible shoes led Lois to believe she must be from a small town, as unlikely as it seemed that any small town journalists would be allowed to attend such an important workshop. The man casually slouched in front of her wearing boots and a flannel shirt could have been from Minnesota and looked a bit like a dark-haired Paul Bunyan. Lois barely suppressed a giggle as she thought of him tying up his blue ox outside the classroom.
Actually, the campus was old enough to have had stables at one time. Built in the 1890’s as a liberal arts college located in rural New Troy, it was originally attended by those looking for a quiet campus to reflect on the meaning of life – meaning it was a place for the wealthy to send their children away for polishing before taking over the family business. For whatever reason, admissions had slowly dwindled until the college had decided to close its doors for good about ten years ago. When Billy Norcross of “Norcross and Judd” fame had died leaving a bequest to establish a Journalism Center to train the next generation of newspapermen and women, the old Luther College campus was chosen and reinvented under a new guise.
Lois was brought back to reality at the polite applause given for the speaker’s welcome comments.
“Since you will all be working closely together for the next seven days, I’d like you to get to know your fellow journalists with a little icebreaker,” he said. Lois barely had to time groan at the thought of a ‘game’ to get to know her colleagues before the speaker explained further. “I’d like everyone to pair up with the person sitting next to them and interview each other. I’ll give you ten minutes for the interview, then we’ll go around the room and have each of you tell me about your partner and why he or she is attending the workshop. Welcome, and have fun!”
Frantically looking around to see if she could alight on anyone intriguing, Lois suddenly found herself gazing into the spectacle-covered brown eyes of ‘Paul Bunyan’ turning around in front of her.
“Hi. I’m Clark Kent from the Smallville Press.”
“…um…Hi. Lois Lane from the Daily Planet,” she answered automatically, suddenly realizing that the man talking to her was incredibly handsome and certainly seemed to have the shoulders and chest of a man who spent a lot of time chopping wood.
“Where’s Smallville?” she asked, “Minnesota?”
“No, Kansas,” he replied. “I’m the Editor of the Smallville Press. It’s just a weekly, but since I grew up in Smallville, it’s a great place to get started learning the newspaper business.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot to *investigate* in Smallville,” she said. “Farmer Jones bull wandering into the Smith’s pasture? Ruined wheat harvest? Which teenagers have been seen paired up behind the Tastee Freeze?”
Laughing, he said, “Well, it is a pretty quiet town, but I don’t plan to stay there forever. That’s part of why I’m here. I want to be a reporter, maybe travel the world someday. Write for a major newspaper like the Daily Planet. What about you?”
“What *about* me?”
“You know. Why are you attending the workshop? That *is* what we’re supposed to find out in this ‘interview’.”
Country bumpkin, Lois thought, as she scrambled for a way to get out of being paired up with this hack from Nowheresville. How could they let people like this into the workshop?
“They may grow them cute on the farm, but I’m looking for business contacts at this workshop,” she snorted. “Oh…oh!” she sputtered, suddenly realizing that she had voiced her thoughts aloud.
He just looked at her with a combined air of shock and bemusement, wisely choosing to ignore her veiled compliment. “What makes you think I’m from a farm?”
“Ha! I’m an investigative reporter, so it’s my job to notice things. It’s obvious that you spend a lot of time outdoors, and since you said you’re from Kansas, and you’re wearing flannel, you have to be a farm boy.”
Lois noticed that Clark didn’t contradict her as he said, “And you think that a Kansas farm boy wouldn’t have any connections worth knowing?”
Lois started to feel her cheeks flush as she answered, “Well…I didn’t exactly say that. You know. I’m sure that a weekly small town newspaper is a great way to get experience in writing gossip and…and…weather, even local political arguments. It’s just that I don’t think what I do at the Planet and what you do would ever cause us to cross paths.”
“Then I guess we should be thankful that we’ve met here at the Center. Otherwise, I may never have known you, Ms. Lane.”
“Lois. Just Lois. I still don’t feel old enough to be called Ms. Anything,” she smiled.
“You have a nice smile, Lois.”
“Don’t try that farm boy charm on me, Kent. The casual atmosphere at this out-of-the way Center may be what you’re used to, but I’ve lived my whole life in Metropolis and the jaded city girl in me isn’t about to fall for your act. I’m here to work.”
“OK then. Let’s get down to that ‘interview’,” Clark said, with a grin.
*****
Even though he didn’t need much sleep, Clark felt drowsy after the day’s activities. His flight from Wichita had left outrageously early in the morning in order to arrive in Metropolis in time to take the shuttle to the Center’s workshop. Since the newspaper was paying for his trip, he’d flown commercial, and he was still tense from the feeling of being trapped in a steel tube on the fight out. Clark wondered how normal people managed to fly all the time as he rotated his shoulders trying to loosen them from being hunched over in his seat all morning on the plane and then again during the morning session.
Sitting around listening to people talk at him was never his idea of fun, so after an entire morning spent being lectured at, he had been anxious to do something more active with the afternoon. Clark still felt a thrill of *something* when he thought about Lois, the woman he met at the morning’s icebreaker. Her dark hair and bright smile made him feel warm inside in a way that he hadn’t really felt before.
Well, maybe that wasn’t true. Lana did make him feel a sense of contentment, but since he had grown up with her, there wasn’t that excitement and thrill of the unknown, even though he did find himself happy to be around her. He’d never known anyone like Lois before. She spoke her mind, maybe not always for the best, but it was a refreshing change from the girls he’d known in Smallville. Of course, in Smallville, someone like Lois would be run out of town pretty quickly. If you couldn’t even fake polite small talk, the locals didn’t have much use for you, other than to gossip about you behind your back. Clark was privy to a few comments that he’d rather not have heard over the years and smiled at the thought of what his neighbors would have to say about someone like Lois.
After meeting Lois this morning, Clark had certainly not expected to see her again, or at least not to speak with her. She had made it abundantly clear that she felt he had nothing to offer her. He had been chatting with another journalist from San Francisco and, hearing the distant chime of the Center’s carillon, discovered that he was running late to the afternoon session when he slid into one of the only open seats left at the front of the room. Luckily, the afternoon activities involved writing and editing, so he wasn’t as likely to fall asleep during this gathering. Clark was startled to see that the instructor was pairing everyone off to work on their assignments, and Clark was soon partnered with the woman sitting across from him—Lois Lane. He couldn’t miss the roll of her eyes when the instructor made the pairing, and he tried not to take offense. Even if she wasn’t pleased with working with him, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of gratification at the idea.
The afternoon had gone by far too quickly, in Clark’s opinion. Working with Lois turned out to be enjoyable in a professional capacity as well as from sheer delight with her company. She was a faster writer, but Clark was better at editing. They made a good pair, and he was pleased at the instructor’s praise of their progress. He could tell that Lois was, too, although her only comment was to remind Clark that he shouldn’t expect to ride her coattails to success during the entire workshop.
Now, after the welcome dinner that the workshop held for all the instructors and attendees, Clark finally had some free time to himself. He had spent the whole day sitting and talking with others, so he decided to use the evening to stroll around the campus and stretch his legs before turning in for the night. The sun had set about half an hour before, and with much of the old college still in disrepair, darkness covered most of the buildings.
He hoped that a walk would clear his mind of Lois and assuage his guilt from not having called his girlfriend, Lana, since he arrived. Of course, if he really wanted to talk with her, he could always fly back to Smallville and see her, but he knew how that would scare her, even though she tried to pretend it didn’t.
No one else seemed to be out as Clark walked along the sidewalks, glancing at the shuttered buildings. Unexpectedly, his superhearing picked up a sharp cry coming from inside one of the buildings. He stopped and listened further.
“Don’t startle me like that! I didn’t know that you would be back so soon.”
“Well, you told me to be quiet. I got the chemicals you wanted, so I thought I would bring them over right away.”
“Good. Set them on the bench and put on your goggles. You can help me with the formula as long as you’re here now.”
As this didn’t sound like someone needing help, Clark started to walk past the building. Before leaving, he stopped to take a closer look and realized that this building was one of those not being used for the Center’s workshop. The windows on the first two floors were boarded shut, and the door had a large but shiny padlock hanging from a latch above the knob. The entire building was shrouded in darkness, although he thought he could see a faint light escaping from one of the darkened glass block windows in the basement. He wondered why someone would be working in the building if no one was using it, and especially why they felt the need to keep quiet. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, Clark walked up to the side door and started to pull apart the padlock to step inside for a closer look.
“You one of them newspaper people?” a voice suddenly asked from behind him.
“That’s right. I’m here for the Investigative Journalism Workshop this week,” Clark replied as he turned around to face the stranger, trying not to appear guilty.
“Well, nothin’ worth ‘vestigating round here. This building ain’t being used for nothing right now. It’s the old science lab, so’s I doubt they’ll be doing anything with it anytime soon. It’ll take a heap o’ work to turn this ole hunk of bricks into something useful for journalists.”
“Really? So no one is working in the building?” Clark asked.
“Nope, it’s been locked up fer quite awhile now. I’m a guessin’ they don’t want nobody poking around the old labs in case o’ they have anythin’ of value left inside. Although why anybody’d care about an old microscope or Bunsen burner, beats the heck outta me.”
“Do you work here?”
“Yep, name’s Willie. I’m the night custodian and guard. Course, ain’t much worth guarding in this place.”
“Clark Kent, Smallville Press. I thought I heard someone inside this building. Are you sure no one would be in here?”
“Sure I’m sure. Ya need an escort back to the dorm where the rest of them newspaper people’s staying? I don’t have time to stop and check out every creak and groan from where the rats are gnawin’ away at the old stuffin’ inside these places.”
“No thanks, I can find my way back. Nice to meet you,” Clark said, as he turned to walk away from the building, feeling Willie’s gaze boring into his back as he was leaving.
Why didn’t I just use my x-ray vision and look the place over, he thought in disgust as he was leaving. The idea of using his powers for investigating was still something new for him. He’d spent so long trying *not* to use his powers, that finding out they came in handy was still something of a novelty for Clark, and certainly something that he was slowly learning to incorporate into his daily life. With Willie watching his back, Clark knew that he wouldn’t have a chance to take a peek now. Well, he was tired; maybe he should head in for the evening and check the place out during the day tomorrow.
The sidewalk he was using ended at the dorm where the Workshop attendees were staying, and this particular walkway stopped on the lower level of the building, at the patio adjoining the cafeteria. Noticing the handful of lounge chairs along the patio, Clark thought he might sit and enjoy the fresh night air for a few more minutes before heading to his solitary room. As he headed toward the nearest chair, he saw the top of a head sticking up above one of the other, nearby loungers. He stopped, listening to see if the person was, perhaps, sleeping and wouldn’t wish to be disturbed. Starting to turn away, he noticed something familiar about the sound he was hearing. A woman’s heartbeat…steady and strong. Feeling reckless, he moved forward.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
