This is a very raw and rough work in progress, but I wanted to see what everyone thinks.
Airport
Here is another take on what H.G. Wells meant when he said, “Nothing is impossible”.
Major thanks go to Anti-Kryptonite and Janet Owens, without their ‘gentle’ pointing of the editor’s sharp stick this fic would never have seen the light of day!
This is a story based on Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. I have no claim on these characters, nor will I get any cash. The new story is mine.
It was a dark snowy night at Metropolis Airport.
Huge flakes of fluffy white snow drifted down and blanketed the entire Metropolis area. Erratic lines of automobile traffic were beginning to snarl, meandering sluggishly through icy streets.
A yellow and red Metrocab, slick with a layer of snow on its roof, lumbered to the departure lane of Air Germany and carefully eased to a stop. An anxious young woman passenger; her long brown hair swathed with snowflakes, gingerly emerged.
“Hey, can you pop the trunk and get my stuff out?” The brunette asked.
“Opening the trunk is fine but youse gotta get your own bags. The cabbie answered, he was ready to go home, in fact, and the ‘off Duty’ sign had just come on.
“What! Your company has a contract with the Daily Planet – ‘a full service car service’.”
“Take it up with my supervisor, sweetie,” he growled.
The heavyset cabbie heaved his considerable bulk out of his seat, gingerly walked through the sloppy snow and quickly opened the trunk. He stood by while snowflakes fell gracefully into his trunk, which smelled like a gym locker, forcing his fare to remove her unwieldy backpack and canvas bag. Once that was done, he ran back into the warmth of his cab. Easily throwing the backpack over her shoulder, the young woman ran toward the swinging glass doors. Rolling down the passenger side window, the disgruntled cabbie roared, “Where’s my tip?”
“Take it up with my supervisor!” The brunette yelled back.
His comment was lost in the wind as the glass doors swung closed behind her.
After the biting cold of a Metropolis winter, the heat of the terminal hit her body like a crashing wave, at once comforting, yet shocking. She shook the snowflakes from her long brown hair and the tan safari jacket than, quickstepped to flight check-in.
“Lois Lane,” she breathed “I’m supposed to be on Air Germany Flight 1278 to Kinshasa connecting through Munich.
The exhausted male flight attendant rubbed his hand through a thatch of blonde hair and somehow managed to smile graciously, “I am sorry, Miss Lane, but there has been a thirty minute delay while the wings are being de-iced. Please make yourself comfortable in the passenger lounge. Listen for the PA notification when the procedure is complete and you can board the plane.”
The young woman groaned aloud, picked up her bags and walked desultorily to the passenger lounge where she quickly found a hard orange plastic chair to sit in.
<Blast the weather! I have got to reach Brazzaville in the Congo. There’s a story out there with my byline on it! Perry has trusted me to bring in a killer article about gunrunners in the Congo and *nothing* not even a snow storm is going to stop me from keeping my word!>
She sat down fidgeting nervously, wondering just how to write such a story, when an elderly gentleman sat next to her. Lois cast her eyes slowly over to him in wonder. <The poor fellow must be on his way to a costume ball.> she thought. He’s wearing a bowler hat and a frock coat, the last time she had seen one of those outfits was in a movie.
<Perhaps a party was taking place on one of the private jets and he was one of the participants? Hadn’t Lex Luthor and that other millionaire Bruce Wayne held such parties on their private planes?>
The Daily Planet’s gossip columnist, Catherine Grant, had written about some such party a few weeks ago. Personally, she never took much stock in anything the bookish woman wrote about, she did not look like the type to write about wild celebrity gatherings, much less attend one.
At that moment there was a cacophony of sound and movement at the far end of the terminal. A swarm of paparazzi was aggressively moving around an impeccably dressed couple. The man was tall with black hair, smoking a cigar, brazenly ignoring the No Smoking signs posted everywhere. The heavily made up woman with him held onto his arm tightly, as if fearing to let go.
“Mr. and Mrs. Luthor, please look this way!” One of the swarm shouted. “Is it true you are donating part of the proceeds from the sale of your Picasso collection to help the homeless children of Metropolis?”
The elegant couple graciously stopped and Mrs. Arianna Luthor smiled brilliantly and said they had no statement at the moment, but many orphanages would be cleaner and have better facilities in the very near future. With a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand, the jet set duo walked into their private lounge, leaving the lesser members of the fourth estate outside.
<Look at them,> Lois mused, <Mr. and Mrs. Fabulously Wealthy! This is probably the closet I’ll ever get to either one of them.>
Her mind drifted to other things…
She had come a long way since being called, ‘The best intern I ever saw.’ Perry white’s words not her own. After graduation from Metro U, Perry hired her as cub reporter, covering everything from dog shows to garden parties. But she treated each story as if it was going to win the Pulitzer Prize. Perry noticed and appreciated her determination. Slowly he doled out tougher assignments she had to beg and plead to cover a suspected carjacking ring. But somehow she got the goods, busted the ring and won praise… and another dog show story from her senior editor.
Why?
Because she didn’t have enough facts to help make the arrests stick. Most of the gang were back on the street within two days of her breaking the story.
It was a valuable lesson, one she never forgot.
Another six months went by before she got another assignment worthy of her talents. This time it was an art dealer scam in the swank NoHo neighborhood. Assisted by a newly hired office boy named Jack Bartholomew, she had been able to crack the case – and this time made sure all the evidence was there so the arrests could not be over turned.
Her front page headlines brought a lot of respect from some of the other reporters and unwelcome attention from others.
Claude was one of the ones she wanted attention from.
Catherine Grant had peevishly warned her not to associate with the flashy Frenchman, but Lois turned a deaf ear to any advice. He was thrilling and dangerous all wrapped in an elegant European package. He could teach her so much.
He taught her how to be heartbroken.
After a passionate night in her apartment, he had stolen her notes and evidence on her latest case. By the time she had reached the newsroom, her story was being printed under his byline. His smile was just dazzling while he told Perry how he painstakingly pieced together the evidence so it could hold up in court. Also, how dear, sweet Lois had provided the proper input to make the story sing.
How she hated him for that!
There was nothing she could do but stay away from him and forge ahead with her career.
Still other things gave her a sense of contentment she had gotten her own comfortable apartment in a good neighborhood and through careful financial planning the rent was paid for two months while she went on this assignment.
Her parents were delighted their daughter was making a name for herself within the world of journalism. They had made it a point to mention her many articles while celebrating their thirty-first wedding anniversary.
Lucy was always bragging to her friends about her sister the reporter.
But it was not enough.
She wanted – no needed to erase the stain of Claude’s actions. Show Perry she was the better reporter and in the process gain the respect of everyone in the newsroom.
There was also the problem of Linda King.
Once her best friend in college, Linda had stolen a boy Lois cared a great deal for and it seemed that ever since, she had been playing catch with the hussy. Well, this story would put their rivalry on even footing.
Lois thoughts were interrupted by the PA announcement. “Attention passengers for Air Germany Flight 1278 to Kinshasa connecting through Munich.” The flight has been delayed another thirty minutes, due to de-icing the wings. You will be called when it is time to board.”
The ground attendant repeated this twice than shut off the overhead speaker.
Lois made a really loud rude noise in her throat than growled. “Taking *this* flight is the next step in my career as a newspaper reporter! Somehow *this* stupid plane needs to get it wings de-iced so I can get on with cracking *this* story!”
The oddly dressed older gentleman smiled and said in a charming british accent, “Here my dear, read my newspaper it will help to pass the time.”
Lois gracious accepted, although reading The Star was not her idea of a newspaper, more like something to wrap fish in. She was even more shocked upon reading the headline:
International Gun Smuggling Ring busted in Congo!
By International correspondent, Linda King
She could barely speak and when her vocal cords did start to work she could only push out a few words.
“How. Dare. She!”
“That no good creature stole my story! All my plans up in smoke! How am I going to face Perry at the office? Now I have to cancel my ticket for this stupid flight.”
At that moment, the PA system blared, “Lois Lane, please pick up the nearest red courtesy phone. Lois Lane, please pick up the nearest red courtesy phone.”
With an act of will, Lois took a deep breath, than stood and walked over to the red courtesy phone stand and yanked the phone off its cradle. “Yes! Who is this?” She snapped into the receiver.
<<Ah Lois, soo glad I caught you. This is Linda King. I called over to the Daily Planet, but they told me you had just left, on your way to the Congo. Your editor – Perry something or other – was screaming about Elvis. He wanted to catch you before the plane took off. Well, I’m so glad I caught you first. Now there’s no reason for you to go, since I broke the gunrunner story…>>
Lois sees a wall of red before her eyes, not trusting herself to speak, she ever so quietly puts down the receiver and storms away from the courtesy desk.
“Not only don’t I get the story, unless the airline cancels this flight. I’m on the hook for this plane ticket!”
The young woman walked towards the Air Germany desk in an attempt to recoup her plane ticket. She is so infuriated; she fails to notice a very handsome young man glazing at her with a curious expression on his face.
***
The older gentleman who had so graciously given her the newspaper stood up, looked at his gold pocket watch and walked towards a same young man dressed in jeans and a faded checked flannel shirt.
“Wow, she’s really steamed! I’m going to have quite a fireball on my hands.”
“Yes, well, I suspect *your* Miss Lane was meant to be stopped at the Airport, but something happened to prevent it. Now she can move forward with her life and you will meet her before the other Miss Lane arrives. Not only will you save her life, but prevent her from making other mistakes as well.”
“Dying in the Congo?”
“Precisely! My boy, both of you will be very happy together…”
“But I won’t have a secret identity. How could an intensely private woman like *my* Lois Lane deal with paparazzi? You saw how that crowd of photographers chased Luthor and his wife.”
“Clark, let me assure you, Lois in this or any universe can handle those ruffians quite easily. Remember this is Lois of five years ago. Currently, she is a relatively unpolished gem who has not won her first Kerth award. But by the time Tempus shows up, she *and* her counterpart will find a way to not only get you into the suit, but prevent your secret from being discovered.”
Clark no longer dejected and cast down walks away with Herb, with a new confidence and a new sense of purpose.
