Three Capes To The Wind


By IRC Round Robin
 
Lois left Perry's office, breezed through the news room and was
halfway up the landing to the elevator before Clark caught up to
her. "Honey--" Lois, not looking at him, rang for the elevator.

Clark shoved his hands deep into his pockets and rolled his eyes.
"What choice did I have?" Lois stepped into the elevator, and
Clark reluctantly followed. It suddenly resembled a refrigerator
as Lois lowered the temperature.

Then, as always happened, Lois responded, and Clark wondered if
the silent treatment was not in fact better. "Choice? We're
partners, right?"

"Yes, but--"

"We're married, right?"

"Of course, and I--"

"Then please tell me why you took it upon yourself to volunteer
*us* to take over that bloated, dull, bigwig soiree when Perry
had to back out?"

"Wait a minute," Clark said as the doors opened on the lobby.
"Weren't you the one telling me that you wanted to make up for
all those times you invited people to dinner and then forgot?"

"That's different."

"Uh huh." He smiled as they passed through the revolving door.
"Weren't you upset that you were suffering from ... from, what
did you call it?"

"MTMS," Lois replied flatly.

"Right! Mary Tyler Moore Syndrome," he laughed.

Lois, not wanting to, found herself laughing too. "Okay, I guess
I did."

Clark drew his arm around her waist. "You 'guess'?"

"All right, I did, Mr. District Attorney." Lois turned and faced
her bemused husband and placed her hands on his chest, "But you
have to *promise* to help make this thing come out right."

"I promise," he said softly, but still was a bit full of himself.
He knew Lois. "You know you thrive on pressure, and you know you
want this thing to be a success."

"Well--" She shrugged. "I don't want it to be a failure."

"You know what I mean. You want this to be a *success*. You want
people talking about it. You want this to be the high water mark
of parties and--"

"Clark, if you stop now, there's a good chance I may still sleep
in the same bed with you."

Clark laughed. "I think I'd better get to STAR Labs then and see
what Klein was so excited about."

Lois pulled herself up a bit using Clark's lapels and kissed him.
"Okay. It sounded like something that could help ... you know who
... in an emergency."

"I hope so," he said, returned the kiss, and they both hurried
down opposite sides of the street.

Lois pulled out her notepad as soon as she got into her Jeep. She
tried to focus on her hurriedly scribbled notes, but in her head
she was still replaying the recent scene in Perry's office.

She'd been looking forward to *going* to a party ... not *giving*
one. Grumbling to herself, she tossed the pad onto the passenger
seat and started up the engine.

First stop ... the caterers. Perry had promised to have everyone
on the guest list notified of the change of venue, so as least
she wouldn't have to worry about that.

***

The sign outside the "Metropolitan Catering Emporium and Bowling
Alley" made numerous extravagant claims about their services ...
most of which Lois doubted. Only Perry, Lois thought with a
grimace, would have picked a place like this.

The interior was unprepossessing ... and noisy. Eventually Lois
was ushered into the manager's office. He was a large man, and
Lois found herself wondering if he'd gotten that way from eating
his own cooking.

It would be an understatement to say that the two of them did not
hit it off. Five minutes later, the caterer/bowling alley
impresario was out of a job, and Lois was back outside, sitting
in her car with her car phone trying to get a list of available
caterers.

Three hours later, she was in the townhouse and regretting her
hasty termination of the catering contract. She'd called
*everyone* in the phone book, but they were all already booked
for New Year's Eve. Even Ralph's Pagoda.

What was she going to do now? Perry was counting on her and all
those people would be coming to her house expecting to find
food--*lots* of it--and drink--*gallons* of it--and she didn't
have a caterer.

Then it dawned on her. She had an ace in the hole ... she had
super help.

The more she thought about it, the better she liked the idea.
That would serve Clark right! After all *he* was the one who had
been so eager to have the party! Now he had the party and the
whole responsibility for the food. Should be no problem for her
superhusband, should it?

She gave up phoning around and instead started looking forward to
telling him the good news. Speaking of telling him...where in
heavens name was he? Didn't he mention that he just wanted to go
over to STAR Labs? He'd been gone for more than four hours!

She turned on the TV, her usual way to find out about the actual
location of her husband's doings, but the world seemed to be
really quiet today. No explosion or bank alarm or anything like
that. Nothing that cried for Superman's help. So where was he?

Well, there was nothing she could do about it right now. Maybe
she should just concentrate on the big challenge: making this
damn party a success.

She got the location, she got the guests, and food was Clark's
problem now. That left only the beverages. She had no idea how
much she had to buy for so many people, but she guessed right,
that the friendly guy from the liquor store would be delighted to
tell her and she just had to trust him. So she decided to make a
final call, after all. And then she would look for her missing
husband.

Meanwhile at STAR Labs, an excited Dr. Klein had provided Clark
with something that looked like a Walkman of some sort.

Some time back, Dr. Klein had started to work on a device that
was supposed to help Superman keep and recharge his energy if he
was ever out of the sun too long. His encounter with the Press
brothers a while ago had reminded Superman that even his
invulnerability had limits. Without sunlight, his superpowers
could be cut off.

Thus, although a little warily, Superman had agreed to
participate in Dr. Klein's recent research project. So far, it
hadn't produced anything of use though.

Dr. Klein had spent the better part of three hours explaining the
technicalities to him. Clark, although fairly well read in
physics and other natural sciences, had soon not been able to
follow the enthusiastic scientist anymore. Klein was jumping from
one idea to another so fast, Clark felt he was trying to catch a
grasshopper or cricket in tall grass. His superpowers were of no
use there.

What it came down to was that the little gadget acted as a "solar
energy collector". In the end, when Dr. Klein had returned to
Earth from his lofty flight, he had needed just five minutes to
explain how to operate it. Not much bigger than a pocket pager,
Clark could easily wear it on his belt. He had been sent off with
instructions to try and use it and report back to Star Labs the
following week--or sooner should problems arise.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally back out in
the street. He liked the good doctor and had come to consider him
a friend, but when Klein got enthusiastic and took off soaring,
he was amusing, but also a little exasperating. In the end, Clark
couldn't help smiling at the thought, though. And it wouldn't be
a week till he would see him again, for he remembered seeing
Klein's name on the list of invited guests.

The thought of the party made him look at his watch. Realizing
how much time had elapsed, he decided to get home the fast way.

***

Lois thought she must have worn a permanent path into the floor
by the time she heard the familiar *whoosh* and thud of Clark
landing. When Clark came downstairs, he braced himself for the
tornado that welcomed him.

When Lois was going in high gear like this, there was nothing to
do but ride out the storm. And Clark did learn that there was no
catering service hired after all. Fortunately, when he didn't
show up earlier, Lois had had a variety of groceries delivered.
In the end, once she had gotten the frustration out of her
system, Lois was even able to respond to his gentle teasing,
claiming that she had only unhired the caterers because she, too,
was eating and wanted to enjoy his cooking--as well as get even
with him.

Even at superspeed, preparing the food for the reception had
taken its time, and it was nearly time for the first guest to
arrive when everything was arranged as it should.

Thus Clark all but supersped when he hurried upstairs to freshen
up and change into the tuxedo that Lois had already laid out for
him. He smiled recalling how much she liked seeing him in it, and
couldn't help feeling excited at the prospect of seeing her in
the new evening dress he had given her for Christmas.

Hurrying into the bedroom, he bumped against the sun lamp her
mother had given Lois for Christmas. Although she hadn't
particularly wanted one, in the end she had tried it out so as
not to lie to her mother when answering her repeated questions of
how it *felt*. Clark noticed that lamp was still plugged in since
it began to hiss and spit in protest when the switch hit the
wall. As he zoomed in to assess any possible damage, the lamp
suddenly came to life. The bright glare surprised and momentarily
blinded him. He lost his balance and stumbled backwards against
the bed.

He sat down on it somewhat disoriented, which was how Lois found
him when she came into the bedroom having heard the noise of the
lamp falling over.

"Clark, what happened?" she asked.

When he didn't respond immediately, she pulled the plug from the
socket since the lamp continued to hiss and spit angrily. "Clark,
are you all right?" she repeated as she crossed the distance
between them.

The blinding light gone, Clark blinked, looked at her in a
somewhat dazed way for a moment, but then smiled. "Yeah, sure,
honey. I'm fine."

"Good. You better hurry up and change."

"Change...?" Clark looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah, the tuxedo. Good thing you didn't sit on it. You barely
missed it."

"Oh, the tuxedo," Clark said slowly, a smile spreading across his
face. "You like to see me in it, don't you?" He reached out and
pulled her into an embrace, kissing her deeply.

She blushed. "Yeah, of course, I do--"

The doorbell interrupted her. "I like that dress you're wearing,
too," Clark began, playfully reaching around and pulling the
zipper down just a little. "But I like what's in it even..."

"Clark, please!" She smiled, but had to disentangled herself from
his embrace as the doorbell rang again, more insistently this
time. Getting up, she looked at him. "Please hurry up. I'll meet
you downstairs."

"Downstairs...? Here would be fine with me ... but whatever you
like best."

Lois giggled. "Well, we don't want a reception up here, do we?"
With that she was out the door.

Several of the guests had arrived by the time Clark finally came
downstairs to join her. Lois had begun to feel rather agitated as
well as just a little annoyed at being left to her own devices
for so long. But seeing Clark standing at the foot of the stairs,
hands in his pockets surveying the scene, she felt her resistance
melt as their eyes met and locked. Making his way through the
crowd, he came over to her and, taking her in his arms--suddenly
smacked her butt.

"Ow!" Lois rubbed her backside. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," he whispered in a gravelly, low tone. "I feel ...
great. Really good ... top of the world--"

Lois patted his shoulder. "I get the picture. So, let's mingle."

Clark pulled her close. "In front of everyone?"

Lois shook her head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm better than 'okay', honey. When we get to that mingling
thing you'll find out."

Lois started to reply, but the mayor walked over. Lois shot Clark
a sobering look, though the term might be relative this evening.
"Mayor, good to see you," Lois shmoozed. "How's the baby?"

"Oh, a treasure, Ms. Lane. Are you and your husband planning a
family?"

Clark winked. "One day, but for now the practice part is really
great."

The mayor's eyes widened, but Lois tapped Clark in the stomach
with her elbow and faked a laugh. "He's always been such a
kidder." She then rubbed her sore elbow.

The mayor nodded and laughed politely. "Well, you are such an
attractive couple, you'd have a beautiful child."

As the mayor droned on, Clark moved up behind Lois and started
kissing her neck. Lois bit her lip. "Affectionate tonight, isn't
he?"

The mayor smiled. "Why, yes, how ... lucky you are. I think I'll
be heading back to my own husband."

"Mingle, mingle," Clark whispered next to Lois's neck.

"Clark, what is the matter with you!" she said, spinning around
to face him.

"I love how you dance," he said airily.

"Please come into the kitchen with me ... *now*"

Clark shrugged and followed his wife, but not before Klein
grabbed his sleeve. "Nice party, Mr. Kent.

"Bernie!" Clark said loudly. "Call me Clark. That guy in tights
has said some 'super' things about you."

Klein blinked. "I'm flattered."

Clark nodded. "I used to be soooo jealous of Superman. My wife
was so hung up on him."

"Oh, God," Lois whispered.

"Um..really?" Klein said and began to perspire slightly.

"You *bet* really. The funny thing is, Bernie, I had a little
secret Lois didn't know about."

"Clark!" Lois called, and everyone turned to look at her. She
smiled. "I need your help in the kitchen."

Clark gave Lois a lopsided grin. "Sure, sweetie, I'll be right
there. I was just chatting with Bernie here...."

"I know that, *darling*," Lois said with a tight smile, "but it
really is important."

Clark shrugged. "Okay, see ya later, Bernie." And he lightly
tapped Dr. Klein on the back, nearly propelling him across the
room and into the mayor's husband's lap.

Lois grabbed Clark by the hand and dragged him into the kitchen.
As the door closed behind them she grabbed him by the lapels of
his tux. "What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing, honey," Clark said as he wrapped his arms around Lois
waist. "I feel just fine." With that he began nuzzling Lois's
neck and one of his hands began rubbing up and down her spine.

Lois groaned.

Clark heard Lois's groan and thought she was beginning to respond
to him, so he was astounded to hear the groan turn to a growl of
exasperation and to feel her small hands pushing him away from
her.

"Clark!" she hissed at him, her voice verging on anger. "*What*
is wrong with you?"

The silly smile he'd had on his face all evening reappeared as he
reached for her again. "Nothing's wrong with me, sweetie. And,"
he paused for a moment to look her over appreciatively, "there's
certainly nothing wrong with you, either. Come here, gorgeous."

Lois retreated to the other side of the cooking island, relieved
that none of their guests were there at the moment. There was no
telling when they might be interrupted, however, so she needed to
get Clark straightened out .... pronto!

She raised a reprimanding finger at him and used her sternest
tone of voice. "Clark Kent, you behave yourself right now, or--"

"Or what?" Clark asked with a grin, following her around the
island and entering into the spirit of this game.

"Or ... or ..." Lois searched her mind desperately for a
deterrent that would have some effect on a guy who could pick up
buses and stop tidal waves. "Or, I'll tell your mother on you!"

Clark paused, as if thinking about the consequences of her
threat. Then he grinned again, immediately seeing the hole in her
argument. "But my mom's not here," he reminded her in a sing-song
voice. "So that won't work."

Lois moved around the island some more. "Clark Kent, I'm not
kidding!"

Clark followed her, the grin on his face getting wider, and he
was starting to giggle. "I'm not kidding either, Lois. Stop
trying to run away, and I'll show you."

"No, Clark, we have guests."

He stopped and looked around. "Where?"

"What?"

"Where are they? I don't see them."

Lois watched in disbelief as her husband opened the broom closet
as if to look for the lost guests. This was unreal. If she didn't
know better she'd think he was drunk ... or crazy.

"See ...? Clark paused for effect, then giggled again. "Nobody
there." He then turned and proceeded to open a few more cabinet
doors, peeking into the cabinets and giving Lois a wink with each
of them.

Lois had never known Clark to be affected by alcohol. But she was
beginning to wonder. She turned around and got closer to Clark,
intending to smell his breath even though she knew he hadn't
really had any time to have more than a sip of anything.

Clark grinned as she came closer, suddenly whisking her into his
arms. "Changed your mind?" he whispered into her ear as he held
her tenderly yet securely.

"Clark ..." She couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath. Yet he
wasn't paying attention to her as he began to systematically rain
light kisses on her face, soon focusing his attention on her
right ear.

Now it was her turn to try and keep from being distracted. He
knew exactly which places to touch, and was nibbling away at her
with great enthusiasm now. Although she was enjoying the
attention, she was also aware that she seemed to be the only one
of the two who was conscious of the party in full swing right
outside the kitchen door. She knew that even more guests had
arrived since the doorbell had rung three times since they went
to the kitchen.

Fortunately, somebody seemed to have answered the door for them.
Clark was not to be distracted, however. He was holding her close
to him and kept nibbling her earlobe while his hands had started
a single-minded exploration of their own. Lois was trying hard
not to respond too much, when suddenly the kitchen door opened
and in burst Jimmy Olsen, a little out of breath as usual.

"Oh, here you are!" he exclaimed.

For once, Lois didn't mind the Jimmy interruptus that much. She
smiled at him as she greeted him a little overenthusiastically.
"Oh, Jimmy, good to see you!"

After a few moments, his presence registered with Clark also.
"Hey, Jimbo!" Clark shouted, his mouth still half filled with
Lois's ear lobe.

Lois winced at Clark's volume so close to her ear.

Jimmy blushed a little taking in the scene.

"Your timing's bad as usual, though, buddy," Clark said as he
continued to nibble.

"Well, I'm sorry, guys, but ..." Jimmy was definitely
embarrassed. "Mr. Stern just arrived and wants to meet the top
reporter team of his Planet. Said something about special
honors...."

Lois rolled her eyes heavenwards.

Lois nodded. "Be right there, Jimmy."

The moment Jimmy exited, Lois turned back to Clark. "You have
*got* to pull yourself together. Now it's our *jobs*."

Clark smiled. "I never noticed how much your eyes sparkle in this
light."

"Clark, *please* focus."

Clark's eyes unglazed for a moment. "Focused. I like that lilac
underwear."

"Oy," Lois sighed. "Let's go visit Mr. Stern, and do *not* x-ray
anyone else."

Clark walked with her to the door. "I only have eyes for you....
Do you know I think of that as 'our song', honey?"

"That's nice," she said, took a breath, and opened the door.

The assembled guests laughed when Clark quipped, "Bet you didn't
think you'd see the Lois and Clark expedition again."

Lois tugged her besotted husband over to Franklin Stern, an
imposing man whom even Perry approached with caution.

"Here are my star reporters." He smiled.

Clark reached out his hand to Stern. "Lois is the star, sir. I
just hitch my wagon to her," he said, and then winked wickedly.
"Every chance I get."

"You're too modest, Mr. Kent," Stern said, shaking his hand.
"You, after all, got the first exclusive interview with Superman.
I'd love to know how you managed that scoop."

Clark laughed. "I just gave myself a good talking to."

Lois laughed nervously as panic set in. "Clark likes to give
himself pep talks."

"Well, whatever works, I always say."

Clark raised his eyebrows. "'Quota, revenue, or else' is what
Perry says you always say."

The silence in the room thundered in Lois's ears. After a beat,
Stern laughed loudly. "Lord, Kent, Perry must have put you up to
this. I heard he had to back out on the party."

"Yes," Lois interrupted. "Good old Perry. He just didn't want
this evening to go by without some little reminder it was *his*
party and *his* idea. I hope this party will be remembered as
*his*."

Stern chuckled. "My dear, that's very unselfish of you. But I'm
sure Perry would want you and Clark to take credit for this
extravaganza. The food is fantastic by the way. Who's the
caterer?"

Clark grinned. "Oh it's just something I ... er ... we whipped up
in the kitchen."

"Really I had no idea you were so talented in the kitchen,
Lois."

"She's talented in lots of rooms," Clark interrupted.
"Particularly in the bed--"

"Clark!" Lois said and quickly placed a hand over his mouth. "Do
you smell something burning in the kitchen?"

Clark shook his head.

"Well, *I* do," Lois said between clenched teeth. "We need to go
see about it *now.* We'll be right back, Mr. Stern." And once
again Lois dragged Clark out to the kitchen.

"Have you lost your mind completely?!" she hissed as the door
swing shut.

Clark shrugged, but before he could give a response, the kitchen
radio crackled with an incoming news bulletin. "This just in.
Police report that there is a hostage crisis taking place at the
main post office."

Lois raised her eyes to heaven and briefly contemplated indulging
in a primal scream. A rescue! Of all the wrong times for a
rescue, this had to be the wrongest!

She pulled Clark to the back door and opened it, then turned to
face him. "Clark!"

He was looking at her hair and reached a hand up to play with the
curls at her right ear. "Hmmm?"

"Clark! Did you hear that? Hostage situation ... you have to
go."

His eyes came back to her face, and she could see how unfocused
his gaze was. His condition seemed to be worsening. She shook
him. "Clark! Did you hear me?"

He blinked a few times with great deliberation and took a deep
breath. "Sure. Hostages. Go." Then he looked around the kitchen
again. "Where?"

"Great Shades of Elvis!" Lois muttered with great emotion. What
in the world was going on here? "Clark, you have to go save those
people."

"I do?"

"Yes." She made their hand motion for flying. "You know ... go
... do what you ... do. Super--"

She was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat
behind her. "Could you use my help?" She turned and looked into
the friendly, albeit guilty face of Dr. Klein.

Clark broke into a big grin. "Oh, hi, Bernie!"

The hostage situation temporarily forgotten, Clark made his way
around Lois and eagerly shook the doctor's hand. When he moved to
slap his back again, Klein quickly ducked out of the way. Clark,
hitting thin air, was off balance momentarily, but quickly
steadied himself holding onto the doctor. "Well, you know, the
treatment is working. But maybe you need to give Lois here a
treatment, too."

Klein looked from Lois to Clark and back again. If he assessed
the situation correctly, his help was needed ... although he
didn't quite know how to help.

"Ms. Lane," Klein said, looking from her to Clark again, "I don't
think your husband should be out ... in traffic."

Clark gave Klein a slow smile. "Thanks, doc. I don't want to be
out at all.... Maybe you could ... you know ... prescribe some
... er ... rest?"

"Clark ..." Lois didn't know what to make of the situation.

Lois tried to assess everything quickly. If there was one
repetitive theme with Clark this evening, it was his amorous
obsession. "Clark," she whispered. "I think it's so sexy when I
hear about you 'saving the day' on the radio."

"Really?"

"It gets me--" she glanced at Klein and blushed-- "hot."

Clark spun into the Superman outfit. "Keep the radio tuned to
channel WHOT," he said, now leering more than gazing at her, and
then was gone in a blur.

Lois wiped the plastered smile from her face and grabbed Klein by
the lapels. "What the *hell* did you do to my husband?"

Klein grimaced. "I didn't know the *hell* he was your husband
until a few minutes ago!"

Lois relented and released the shaken (not stirred) doctor. "I'm
sorry, Dr. Klein. You've always been a good friend to Superman.
It's just that--"

Klein nodded sympathetically. "It's always...something."

"What happened to him?"

"Now that, I'm not sure of. He was fine when he left STAR Labs.
I'd created a treatment that would give him a boost if away from
the sun and in need of a physical recharge."

Lois's pulse began to race. "Would a strong, artificial light
source have an adverse effect?"

Klein shrugged. "Possibly."

"Oh, God. There's a sun lamp my mother sent me."

"Sun lamp?"

"Yes, Clark seemed to have run afoul of the thing in the bedroom.
He may be the man of steel, but Fred Astaire he ain't."

"I could run tests."

"We don't have time for tests, Dr. Klein! I've got a room full of
important people and a husband who just *happens* to be Superman
flying while intoxicated!"

"I've got an idea, but I'll have to go back to STAR Labs and get
what I need."

Lois hugged him. "Please hurry. If Clark gets back before you do,
he'll be expecting a lot more than just some crab puffs."

"On my way!" the doctor shouted.

***

Clark made a less than smooth landing at Metropolis's main post
office, taking out a lamppost and a mail box before finally
stopping in front of Captain Sawyer of the SCU. Dazed but
determined, he shook his head and grinned at Captain Sawyer.
"How's it going, Maggie? Heard you could use a little help."

Sawyer eyed Superman warily. "Well thanks, big guy, we certainly
could use some assistance...."

"Okie dokie," Clark replied. "But I've got to make this quick.
I've got a hot ..." Maggie and her second in command leaned
closer and began to listen intently. "... Never mind, I'll just
make this quick." He disappeared in a blur and 5 seconds later,
the hostage taker was bundled at the SCU commander's feet like a
Christmas turkey.

Clark grinned once more. "Ta-Ta," he said, and then he streaked
off into the night sky.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was tipsy," Sgt.
Turpin said to Maggie Sawyer.

"Well, I guess he's allowed to blow off a little steam once in a
while. It is New Year's Eve. Besides, are you going to be the one
to give him a ticket?"

***

Back at the party, Lois was attempting to play the perfect
hostess while covering for the missing Clark with marginal
success. It looked like her string of entertainment disasters was
going to remain unbroken. Her only hope was that the party would
end before the emergency.

That hope died when she heard a sudden ==whoosh== at the
backdoor.

Her next hope was that Superman wouldn't suddenly appear ... in
the same condition that Clark had left in. Fortunately, though,
it was Clark who came through the doors, not Superman.

*Unfortunately,* he was still obviously not himself. How much
longer was this going to last?

***

Dr. Klein mumbled to himself as he went through the various
cabinets and drawers in his lab. "Let's see, I need this
gizmo...and that thingamajig...and where did I put that whatzis?
Oh, there it is! Geez! Will you look at that! So *that's* where
this whatchamacallit got to!"

Eventually, he'd located everything he thought he'd need and was
headed for the door, his coat pockets bulging. He'd heard on the
lab's radio that Superman had helped corral whoever had created
the disturbance at the post office, so he figured that Clark must
be back at the party by now. At least...he hoped that's where he
was. If he wasn't, Dr. Klein couldn't even begin to imagine how
they'd go about finding an AWOL Superman...much less an FWI
Superman.

***

Lois looked at the clock again. Could it really be only an hour
ago that this party had started? She felt wrung out. She *really*
hoped Dr. Klein would get back soon.

Back at the party, Lois felt her stomach do unexpected
somersaults when Clark came down the stairs, his shirt open by
two buttons and his bowtie perked to one side. Just a bit of blue
was visible from under the open shirt. She rushed up to him and,
wrapping her arms around him, said, just a little too loudly,
"Oh, there you are! I'm glad you're feeling better."

Clark immediately focused his attention on her, kissing her
intently while she fumbled with his shirt buttons. "Hola!" Clark
exclaimed. Misinterpreting her attention to his buttons, he swept
her off her feet and whisked back up the stairs at slightly more
than normal speed.

In his current state, opening their bedroom door was more than he
could handle while carrying Lois, so Clark pressed her up against
the door, kissing her and asking, "So how did that rescue make
you feel?"

His hips were pressed tightly to hers and one hand was reaching
for her zipper while the other was sliding under her skirt and up
her thigh. She figured she had about two seconds before any of
their guests wandering upstairs in search of a bathroom got the
show of a lifetime. She reached behind her for the doorknob and
turned it, praying that she remembered enough of her martial arts
training.

Under the pressure of their combined weights, the door swung
open, and they fell inward. Lois twisted and rolled, but Clark's
reflexes were abnormally slow--which is to say they were about on
par with a normal human male--and he landed heavily on the floor
beside her.

She kept rolling and was on her feet even as he reached for her,
a grin spreading across his face at this new game. For an
instant, she was free, but she had about as much chance of
staying out of her husband's reach as a snowball had of
maintaining a solid state in the devil's domain.

Lois glanced around the room desperately--and saw the bathroom
door. Inspiration struck. Pressing a hand to her stomach and
putting all the day's frustration into her grimace, she held
Clark off with one weakly waving hand. "Ohhh," she moaned, "I
don't feel so good."

Clark had risen to his feet and had his arms out to scoop her
into them, but he stopped short at her words. His smile wavered
and faded. "You don't?"

She wasn't sure that a mere upset stomach would hold him off for
long--not in the state he was in, so she decided to up the ante.
"I think I'm going to be sick."

His forward motion came to a complete stop. At his horrified
look, she turned and stumbled into the bathroom. With the door
safely closed, she turned on the water in the sink.

God, what a mess. Here she was, holed up in the master bathroom,
while her amorous spouse waited outside the door and a score of
Planet bigwigs wandered around downstairs. If only she could
think of an errand that would send Clark away or that would give
her an excuse to go downstairs--an excuse that he wouldn't simply
ignore.

And where was the author of her problems, Dr. Bernard "I love
using Superman as a guinea pig" Klein?

***

The party was actually doing quite well, considering that both
the host and hostess were inexplicably absent, Dr. Klein noticed
as he sidled between two very large men in well-fitting tuxedos.
Most of the guests were either pretending that Lois and Clak
*weren't* absent (those were the administrators, he guessed), or
they were placing bets on what excuse the Kents would use to
explain their absence. Since most of the people involved in the
latter activity seemed to be younger and wearing less
custom-fitted evening clothes, he guessed that they were staff
members.

Before he was reduced to searching the house room by room, he saw
a face he recognized. "Jimmy ... Olsen, isn't it?"

Jimmy turned and smiled at Dr. Klein. "Hey, you're with the Lab
Rats, aren't you?"

The doctor nodded. "Have you seen Lois and Clark?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes ceilingward and jerked a thumb toward the
stairs. "They went thataway."

"Thanks." Dr. Klein patted his shoulder. You could always depend
on a fellow biker.

Klein noticed the bedroom door was not closed. He craned his head
to the side and saw Clark, by himself, sitting on the edge of the
bed. "I'm in time. Lois won't kill me." He pushed the door open
gently. "Where's your wife, Mr. Kent?"

Clark looked up, his expression forlorn. "She's not feeling well,
Doctor Klein."

"Ah." Klein nodded and rapped on the bathroom door. "Ms. Lane,
it's Klein. I might be able to help you feel better."

"Thank God," she whispered and opened the door. To her surprise,
Clark took her in his arms and swayed gently. It seemed his
emotions, whether amorous or sympathetic, were on override.

He kissed the top of her head. "You'll be okay, honey."

Klein smiled. "She'll be all right, Clark," he said and then
turned to Lois. "I just happen to have the pocket edition
interositor with me."

Clark looked up at Klein. "And that will make her better?"

"Trust me."

Lois shot a conspiratorial glance at Klein. "So what do I do,
doctor?"

"Well, Lois, first Clark needs to move a bit back."

Clark obediently stepped back and reseated himself on the edge of
the bed. Klein removed the interositor and handed it to Lois.

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "All you have to do, Ms.
Lane, is turn it on and aim it."

"At?"

"Oh, well, anywhere skin is exposed. The face would be fine."

Lois nodded, turned, and pointed the interositor at Clark and
turned it on.

Clark began to stand, but sat back down when the dark light
poured over his face. He closed his eyes a moment.

Klein walked over and shut off the machine and then continued
forward to Clark. "How do you feel?"

Clark looked at him. "Where'd you come from, Doctor Klein?"

Klein shrugged and looked over his shoulder to Lois. "Complete
binge blackout. He's all right, but he likely won't remember much
of what he did this evening."

Clark stood up and groaned, "My head feels like it weighs as much
as a battleship."

Lois stroked his cheek. "And instant hangover."

"Hangover? Was I ... drunk?"

"I'm tempted to ask 'does a bear take Reader's Digest in the
woods', but I'll just leave it at yes, you were drunk."

"But how ... I mean, it can't be possible."

Klein sighed. "It seems we still have a bug or two to work out on
that energy boost thing, Superman."

Clark's heart began to pound. "Lois, did you tell him I'm--?"

"No," Klein replied quickly. "I'm afraid you were a bit liberal
with your secret ... but don't worry, only I caught it ... by
accident ... um, in the kitchen."

Clark sat back down, and Lois walked over and put her hand around
his shoulder. "It's okay, sweetie. You don't remember what you
said to the mayor's wife or Mr. Stern, so it's all for the
best."

Clark fell back on the bed and covered his eyes. "At least my
parents weren't here." He uncovered his eyes slowly. "They
weren't, were they?"

"No," Lois laughed, "but I can send Martha an e-mail now since we
gave her that computer for Christmas."

Clark propped himself up on his elbows. "If I'd never met your
mother, I'd always wonder where your sadistic streak came from."

Klein laughed, but covered his mouth quickly and blushed.

Clark turned and looked at the bemused doctor. "I don't suppose
there's any way for you to forget all of this too, Dr. Klein?"

"Frankly, Super ... er, Clark, you and your wife have a problem
hiding your affection for each other when you visit me. I see you
and her together more often when you're Superman. It may be the
only reason your co-workers don't suspect. They see you together
as Lois and Clark," he said and folded his arms. "I'm afraid I've
suspected as much for quite some time."

Clark let out a long sigh. "We're that obvious?"

"Only to me," Klein reassured him. "I've gotten to the point I
ask technicians and assistants to leave when the two of you are
likely to end up together in my lab."

Clark smiled and shook his head. "You were protecting the secret,
even from us."

"You and Ms. Lane are the best friends I have. I'm afraid I'm not
much of a social butterfly ... or maybe you hadn't noticed."

Lois kissed his cheek. "It's society's loss."

Clark smoothed back his hair and straightened his tie. "Well, I
guess we'd better go back and face our guests, and I'll apologize
if you just point out the people I offended."

"Good, I made flashcards."

Clark laughed and put his arm around her shoulder. "I really said
something offensive to the mayor?"

"Not really," Lois soothed. "But she did say you and I would have
a beautiful baby."

Klein opened the door. "I'm sure she's right. We'll know in a few
months anyway--" Klein grimaced at Lois. "Or was that a secret,
too?"

THE END 

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