Well, I couldn't let this very special day pass by unmarked, could I? So here, in honour of one of FoLCdom's favourite writers and personalities, is a new story. 
~ Marry In Haste: A Birthday Story for Tank ~ Lois Lane paced up and down in her bedroom, a tormented expression on her face. Was she doing the right thing? She had absolutely no idea.
Nothing had gone right from the day Lex Luthor had proposed. She’d been flattered at first; of course she had. Who wouldn’t have been? The third-richest man in the world wanted *her* - Lois Lane, brilliant reporter but otherwise pretty ordinary cosmopolitan city woman - to be his wife!
But did she really want to be his wife?
Two months later, she still had no real answer to that question.
She’d accepted his proposal, if she was honest with herself, purely on the rebound. And - this required even more honesty - as an act of defiance, in the hope that *he* would realise just what he’d thrown away and that he’d come crawling to her, begging her to forgive him and marry him instead.
But he hadn’t. In fact, she’d barely seen him since that terrible day when he’d rejected her.
Instead, she’d been caught up in the whirlwind of organisation leading to her wedding to Lex Luthor. Apart from the demands of her new job, her husband-to-be, in one way or another, was taking up all of her time. They had to be seen together, Metropolis’s most glittering couple, and so they were out almost every evening: dinner, dancing, the theatre, the opening of a gallery or museum exhibition, a reception, or anywhere Lex judged it important that they been seen.
She was a performing seal, she felt sometimes; she would turn up on her fiancé’s arm, smile brightly, make appropriately bland conversation with whoever Lex wished to favour with his attention, sip warm white wine and try to pretend that she was fascinated. Lois Lane had had been very carefully airbrushed out of the picture, so much so that she had barely been seen for weeks. All that people saw, or were allowed to see, was the future Mrs Lex Luthor.
And people who had known her before her engagement barely recognised her. That had been clear only the other evening, when she and Lex had encountered the chief executive of Metropolis city council at a reception. Lois had interviewed Carla Thomas a couple of times, and had also butted heads with her on a number of issues since the woman had been appointed to her position. She had known that, despite their differences, Ms Thomas respected her ability and her professionalism, and had once cited her as a someone who set an example to other women by her success in a male-dominated career.
She’d seen the disappointment in the other woman’s eyes as they’d made meaningless small talk. And yet another tiny dagger had stabbed at her.
Lois hated what she’d become. In the eyes of most people she now encountered, she’d become the little woman; arm candy, on display so that Lex Luthor could increase his stature in the eyes of other men even more. Having an attractive woman on his arm, Lois would once have vehemently argued, sent exactly the same message for a man as driving a fast car. It pampered his ego; screamed at other men, “Look at me! See how successful I am!”
Now, she was a man’s hood ornament.
Okay, sure, she still worked at LNN, but even that was little more than a sinecure these days. She was never assigned to any of the really meaty stories; that had stopped the day after she’d accepted Lex’s proposal. When she’d asked why she’d been passed over for a particularly interesting investigation, her editor had said something dismissive about it being a conflict of interest.
She supposed that was true; who wanted Lex Luthor’s wife-to-be interviewing them? Or reporting on a hard news story?
She was, after all, no longer the conduit; she was the story.
And so, she reminded herself, pausing in front of the mirror, this was her wedding day. In three hours’ time, she would be walking down the aisle to meet her future husband.
Lex.
She was about to become in reality the role she had been rehearsing for the past several weeks: Mrs Lex Luthor.
A wife. A cipher. The shadow of a very powerful man.
And within weeks, if not sooner, no-one would even remember that she used to be Lois Lane.
*He* would, she thought, a flicker of hope surging through her once more. He would remember. And he would regret what he’d thrown away.
Well, that was if he hadn’t already forgotten her. And his absence from her life did seem to suggest that he had never really cared. He’d walked away, after all, once he’d told her that he didn’t believe that she really cared about him.
He didn’t care. He didn’t want her.
And so what choice did she have left? Lois asked her reflection.
She could simply not marry Lex. Who said she had to be married anyway? She was 27; hardly at her last prayers. This wasn’t the eighteenth century, after all. And *not* getting married was an option more and more women took these days. She herself had never believed that having a man in her life was a prerequisite to being happy or successful.
If she did actually want a man, on the other hand, was Lex Luthor the one she would choose and forsake all others for? Okay, sure, he was exciting. He could sweep her off her feet with his charming talk and exaggeratedly-romantic gestures. He was powerful, and yet at the same time he was caring. He was a philanthropist, and he’d promised her that, once they were married, she could have a ‘charity account’ with a million or so dollars that she could use for good causes.
But she didn’t love him, did she?
Not the way she loved... *him*.
Lois sighed, a tear escaping from the corner of one eye. It was time to make up her mind.
*********
The organ swelled. The congregation rose to its feet. And it was time.
Hesitantly, shakily, Lois put one foot in front of the other and began to walk. At the top of the aisle, she could see Lex standing there waiting for her, his dark head turned slightly so that he could see her moving towards him.
She’d made up her mind. She was getting married.
She didn’t love Lex. So what? Many marriages had been built on much less, and had been very successful. Plus, was love really all that it was cracked up to be? Didn’t almost half of marriages now end in divorce? And all those couples had once thought they’d loved each other.
No; marrying someone with whom one had compatible interests was a far better prescription for a successful, durable relationship. She and Lex would be fine.
A tear dripped from her eye, falling onto the bouquet she carried.
<Oh, my love...> she cried silently, forlornly.
Her prison awaited her. Her jailer smiled at her, extending one hand to her as she neared him. This was it; it was too late to turn back now.
The marriage ceremony proceeded, but to Lois it felt as if everything was happening through a kind of veil which separated her from the rest of the world. She was actually outside her body, it seemed, observing events as if through a fuzzed lens. The woman making her responses recited them without a mistake, but the voice was lifeless; dulled and uninterested.
“Lois Lane, do you take this man for your wedded husband?” the archbishop asked.
<Say no!> she urged her compliant, wraith-like double.
“I d -” the person wearing the wedding dress began.
“I... I...” she continued to stammer.
“Lois?” Now Lex was looking concerned. He turned to the woman in the dress, reaching out to touch her.
<Say no!> Lois urged again.
“I... No!” the wraith said, and suddenly Lois was reunited with her twin. “No, I can’t marry you!” she enunciated clearly.
“What -” Lex began.
And then the door crashed open. “Stop the wedding!” an authoritative voice demanded.
“What are *you* doing here?” Lex demanded, sounding furious.
But Lois had frozen at the sound of that voice. It was him! He had come.
He’d come for her after all!
Things were happening all around her now; police were everywhere and, bafflingly, they were taking Lex away in handcuffs.
But Lois was almost oblivious to all of it. All she could see was the man now standing in front of her, real and large as life.
He was there. He’d come.
He hadn’t forgotten her after all.
“Lois. I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “Can you ever forgive me for what I did? For walking away from you? I love you. I’ve always loved you!”
“And I love you too!” she exclaimed. “You have to believe that!”
“I do,” he said fervently. “I’ll even promise to learn to live with your long hair. As long as we don’t have kids... Lois Lane, will you marry me?”
“Oh, Tank, I’d love to!”
~ The End ~ 
