Author: Wendy Richards
Email: wendy@lcfanfic.com
Rated: G
It was a beautiful spring day, and Clark Kent was in an excellent mood. Lois had agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’d just had another front-page story. Life was good, and he felt merry.
Now, he was on his way to Suicide Slum; a source he only knew as Hatman had called in a tip that some stolen computer games had been stashed in a dumpster there, to be picked up by a fence later that day. Suicide Slum wasn’t Clark’s favourite place, but today he could even grin about being sent there. Not even the rats would put him off today – not even if one of them ran up his leg and bit him!
Daydreaming about, for some reason, visions of a large rat sitting on its hind legs and interrogating him about his daily activities, Clark didn’t notice that he had company.
“Hey, where do you think you’re off to?” a gruff, hostile voice demanded.
Shaking himself out of his abstraction, Clark turned to the man who’d spoken, who was in his fifties, with a shaggy beard and hair, and a guitar which had clearly seen better days was slung over his shoulder. “Hey. Is there a problem?”
“Depends. Do you know a gal by the name of Lane?”
Clark frowned. Lois? Was Lois in some sort of trouble? Had she been kidnapped again? What…?
“Cause if you do, I have a message for you.”
“*You* have a message for me?” Clark stared at the hobo in incredulity.
“Well, if your gal-pal drives a silver Jeep Grand Cherokee, then I do. She’s got a flat, a block that way.” The guy pointed. “A friend of mine, guy called Jose, is keeping an eye on her. You know, making sure no-one hurts her.”
Not knowing whether to be relieved or worried, Clark gave the guy a nod. “Thanks, uh…?”
“Call me Tank,” he said. “Nice-looking, ain’t she?”
Lois? Clark stilled. Sure, he thought that Lois was about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But he wasn’t really sure that he wanted this Tank guy to notice. “Uh – yeah, she is.”
“Needs a haircut, though. I’ve always thought women look much more attractive with short hair.” Tank shrugged. “For some reason, not many of them agree with me. There’s this Wendy – we used to be together – she refused to cut her hair short. Even when I offered to do it for her.”
Not especially wanting to comment on Tank’s preference in women’s hairstyles, and also getting worried about Lois, Clark gestured down the street. “I think I need to get going,” he said quickly.
“Oh, sure. And tell the pretty lady that if she’s a music fan, she can find me playing most nights in Anna’s Place, over on Alicia and Loriel.”
“Uh… I’ll do that,” Clark agreed, secretly thinking that Lois wouldn’t be caught dead in any seedy bar in Suicide Slum unless she was there undercover.
He hurried down the street, hoping that Lois was okay. On his way, he almost tripped over a rabbit, which made him pause in surprise; a rabbit in Suicide Slum? Rats he could understand…
“Clark!” Lois hailed him as he drew close. “What kept you?”
“Maybe the fact that I didn’t know you were here until a minute ago?” he replied, relieved to see that she was okay. In fact, she was leaning casually against the bonnet of the Jeep, and as he’d approached she’d been in what looked like pleasant conversation with a Latin-looking guy.
“Hola. I’m Jose,” the man said, extending a hand to Clark. “Maria, mi esposa, saw Mizz Lois here and told me to come and keep an eye on her. Some bad guys around here, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” Clark said dryly. “What were you thinking of, Lois? You didn’t need to be here!”
“Clark, it’s hardly as if I’m a stranger to this area!” Lois said in exasperation. “Only last week I was down here checking out the tip Rivka gave us.”
“Oh yeah, that,” he said. “That one panned out nicely. Isn’t Tarkas’s arraignment hearing today?”
“Yep,” she agreed. “Anyway, Barb told me where you’d gone. Not that I needed her to tell me – I’d already found the email you sent Perry.”
“Hey! My account’s password-protected!” Clark protested.
“Oh, Karen showed me how to get around that long ago,” Lois said with a shrug.
“But I still don’t understand what you’re doing here. It’s hardly a major story.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was bored at the Planet, and I had to get away from Meredith. She was bugging me again about stupid grammar rules that nobody cares about.”
“Except our sub-editor,” Clark said dryly.
“Whatever,” Lois retorted. “Anyway, you going to change that tyre or not?”
Clark rolled his eyes. “Sure. Give me a second.”
He busied himself getting the jack out and preparing to raise the axle – best not let anyone see that he could have taken the tyre off without any equipment – while Lois resumed her conversation with Jose. Shortly afterwards, she was surrounded by a group of young women. Intrigued, he listened to their conversation.
“Yeah, like Sarah said, all of us work for him,” one said.
“Well, all except Annette. She don’t work for nobody,” another added.
“Yeah, but Annette’s smart. Nobody messes with Annette.”
“Right on, Elena. But, hey, one of these days we’re going to get our revenge on that b – yeah, on him,” the one called Sarah said.
“On this Kaethel guy?” Lois queried. “The one Jose mentioned? Weird name”
“Yeah. Don’t think it’s his real name, but it’s all we know him by. See, he has us all working our butts off and handing over most of what we make to him. Or to Xan – XanBee – she’s his madam. And we hate him. Right, Missy?”
The one called Missy pulled a face. “Yeah. If I could meet Kaethel in a dark alley somewhere…”
“You’d never do it,” Elena said scornfully. “But give me a Colt – or better still, a stiletto – and I know where I’d hurt him!”
Clark grimaced. He could imagine just what this Kaethel was doing to the women, but violence wasn’t going to do them any good. He tightened the last few bolts by hand and stood up.
“Look, is there a way we can help?” he enquired.
“Who’s he?” a tall woman, who hadn’t spoken yet, demanded suspiciously.
“It’s okay, Yvonne,” Lois said. “He’s my partner. Clark Kent. And he’s one of the good guys.”
“Okay,” Yvonne said, clearly reluctant to trust Clark. But then she paused and eyed him up and down in a way which made Clark feel just a little uncomfortable. “Good-looking guy, isn’t he? He yours?”
To his amusement, Clark noticed that Lois blushed. “He’s my partner,” she repeated. “We work together.”
“So you won’t mind if I give him the once-over?”
Clark grinned as Lois moved to stand beside him, her attitude possessive even if she didn’t know it. “Look, can we stick to the issue here?”
Elena shoved Yvonne aside. “I have a plan,” she said. “Why doesn’t he -” She gestured to Clark. ” – pretend to be a client? He can be my client. Then he can interview me for your paper.”
Among other things, Clark thought. “I can interview you without needing to pretend anything, can’t I?”
“Nice accent,” Sarah drawled. “Country bumpkin meets the big city?”
“He is not a country bumpkin!” Lois protested.
“No?” Clark grinned at her. “It’s not that long since you were calling me something like that yourself.”
“Yeah, but that was when you were fresh from Kansas,” she pointed out. “And you’re not any more. You know, Kathy said just the other day that she thought you’d grown up in Metropolis!”
Clark rolled his eyes. “That’s supposed to be a compliment?”
“Hey!” Yvonne interrupted them. “Could you have this love-in some other time? We want to know what you want – we’ve got jobs to get back to!”
“Okay,” Clark began, but they were interrupted suddenly. Another woman appeared around the corner of the block, running fast and panting.
“Guys!” she yelled as she approached.
“Annie?” Sarah said.
“Do I look like someone else?” the newcomer said.
“You’re sober!” Sarah exclaimed.
Annie stuck her tongue out at Sarah. Then she announced, “Kaethel’s coming. I overhead Saskia tell him you guys were talking to a couple of strangers. He’s not a happy bunny!”
“Saskia should mind her own business,” Elena grumbled. “She just wants to be Kaethel’s favourite.”
“Oh, Saskia’s okay,” Annie protested. “I think Kaethel asked her why Missy wasn’t on her usual corner. Anyway, he’s on the warpath. I don’t know who these guys are, but they’d better get out of here if they know what’s good for them.”
“Maybe I should call the police,” Clark said, worried about what the pimp would do to the women, who were clearly afraid of him. Not that he had any intention of calling the police…
“Clark! Are you crazy?” Lois demanded.
“You two better get out of here,” Missy said. “If Kaethel sees you and figures out we’ve been talking to you, he’ll take it out on us.”
“Come on, Lois,” Clark said, making a sudden decision. He caught Lois by the arm and tugged her around the corner and into a run-down building. They watched through a grimy window as a thuggish-looking man approached, flanked by two other men who were clearly hired muscle.
“We have to do something, Clark!” Lois exclaimed. “He’s going to half-kill those women! Jose told me he beats them if they don’t make enough money – and the targets he sets are ridiculous!”
“Not a shadow of a doubt about that,” Clark agreed grimly. “Look, do you think any of them would testify to the police if we could get Kaethel arrested?”
Lois shrugged. “Jose says so. But he’d need to be taken off the streets with a decent chance of prosecution.”
“Such as Superman testifying that he’d seen the guy threatening those women?” Clark suggested.
“That’d do it,” Lois agreed. “You going to contact him somehow?”
“No need.” Clark grinned; this was the moment of truth, he’d decided. It was time that Lois knew. There was no need for secrets any more.
In a split second, he’d spun into the costume. Lois’s jaw dropped in amazement, and he marched swiftly to her and kissed her soundly. “Hold that thought,” he said. “Later – I’ll take you to Irene’s, okay? The meatloaf there’s terrific. And I’ll tell you everything. All right?”
In under a second, he was out on the street, hovering in front of the guy called Kaethel. “Did anyone ever tell you that I hate bullies?” he asked, in a deliberately casual voice.
“Bullies? No – why would I want to know that?” the pimp blustered.
“Because you are one!” Sarah said scornfully.
“That’s what I heard too,” Clark observed.
Kaethel’s two companions turned and ran. Their boss glared after them. “James! Jiten! Get back here!”
“I think you’re on your own,” Elena said. “Thanks, Superman!”
Clark reached out to take the pimp by the collar. “I’ll just take him out of your way now. There’s a detective at the nearest precinct who’ll be very happy to deal with him – especially when I give my statement too.” Oh yes, he thought; Detective Kaylle Trenna would be delighted to have one more creep off the streets.
*********
Later, the pimp in custody and the women all safely giving their statements to the police, Clark spun back into his street clothes and went looking for Lois. She was, typically, in the middle of the action: on Laurach Street, interviewing anyone who’d talk to her.
“There you are, Clark! I think I’m done here. Jill’s just given me a great quote, and Cristina here used to work for Kaethel too, and she let me interview her. I just need to interview Superman now, to finish it off.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Clark said with a grin. “Want to go find him now?”
“Sure!” she agreed. “But what about your tip-off? Those computer games?”
“Oh, I checked that out before coming back to you,” he explained. “It was a bum steer.” He shrugged. “Sometimes Hatman gets it wrong.”
“What, can’t see the genuine stuff through the haze of his habit?” Lois suggested.
“Oh, Hatman’s not a user. He’s just… well, he seems to sleep a lot. And he has these weird dreams. Last time, he told me he’d seen hyenas running loose outside Chiara’s Diner.”
“Not half as weird as what I saw earlier, when I was wide awake!” Lois retorted. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Kent!”
“Okay. Let’s get back to the Planet, write the story, then tell Pam we’re leaving for the day,” Clark suggested. “And then I’ll take you to Irene’s, like I promised.
“Chief Pam? Oh, Perry’s off this afternoon, isn’t he? Okay, it’s a plan.”
They climbed into the Jeep and drove off. It had been a good afternoon, Clark thought. A thoroughly bad guy was in jail. Lois knew his secret, and she wasn’t angry. He’d kissed her, and she’d seemed to enjoy it. And they were going out on a date.
All in all, he was very happy.
As they paused at an intersection on the way out of Suicide Slum, a butterfly alighted on the windscreen briefly. Its bright colours reflected his mood completely, Clark thought. And its ability to fly… oh yeah, that was exactly how he felt right now. As if he was flying, even while he was still on solid ground.
He was the one in a haze, he thought: a haze of wonderment, rays of sunshine and warm and fuzzy feelings.
He was in love.
~ The End ~
40 – 42 if count butterfly and hyenas.