Genre: Sci-fi/Romance
Pairing: who else?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A life in the day of Clark & Lois. This has nothing to do with my other fanfics and will be designed(hopefully) to slot neatly between 'Fade' and 'Oracle,' with perhaps a little smut chapter in the R section, if I can frenagle it right.
Recurve
----------
Prologue
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6:25 AM
-------
He paced nervously, checking his watch for the third time in ten minutes. This was his last chance; after this, his resources would be exhausted, and with his lack of credibility, he’d already been turned down in pursuit of every other avenue of funding. If it didn’t work this time, the whole thing was finished.
“Doctor?”
He looked up to his assistant. “It’s almost time, sir.”
The doctor nodded, passing a final glance over the telltales. “How is the array holding up?”
“The board’s green all the way, and we have a steady test current on the stand-bys.”
“Alright,” the doctor said. “Begin the countdown.”
6:27 AM
----------
As Clark’s alarm clock went off for the third time, he said a silent thank you to the inventor of the ‘snooze’ button.
#---always flirt with death, I could kill but I don’t care about it,---#
Leaving the radio on, he dragged himself out of bed, wearing just his red T-shirt and his blue plaid boxers, muttering along to the music as he plodded fuzzily to his closet. It was one of those ‘everywhere’ songs of the moment, so the lyrics came easily:
#I can face your threats, stand up tall and scream and shout about it. I think I’m on another world with you---#
He took a deep waking breath, got dressed fast and was brushing his teeth by the second verse, singing muffled through toothpaste.
#You always get under my skin, I don’t find it irritating. You always play to win, I don’t need rehabilitating---#
That part always reminded him of Lois. Except for the ‘not irritating’ part. Even dripping wet and wrapped only in a towel, she was irritating. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to chase away the fresh mental snapshot of a naked Lois Lane ready to clobber him with a shower brush, and spat toothpaste into the sink.
#---space travel’s in my blood, there ain’t nothin’ I can do about it----#
As always, the DJ broke in before the end.
“---‘Another Girl, Another Planet,’ and that was another hit for Blink-182---”
Clark scoffed as he clicked off the radio; he knew his music. “It was the Only Ones, ya goof.”
His mother was on the way out as he came downstairs, with just enough spare time to kiss him goodbye as she dashed out to some meeting or other; he wasn’t really listening. It was Clark’s birthday tomorrow, his first without his father. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
After breakfast, he ran through his chores, a little slower than usual, then showered and changed clothes. He locked up the house, then paused on the porch, patting his pockets, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He took off towards Metropolis at a steady pace just under the speed of sound.
8:01 AM
----------
He arrived at the Planet offices slightly late, and found Chloe on the phone shouting at someone called Ron.
“I don’t care what time it is---”
She held up a finger, begging a moment of Clark’s patience, and he nodded, pulling up a chair and looking around the bustling room.
“---the follow-up on the Graham Garrett story is going to press at noon, and I don’t have the morgue files back----That’s not what you said yesterday, I’ve been stalling for you since then---yeah---yeah---put your boss on the line---oh, is he?---Well, when you see him, tell him if those files aren’t on my desk in two hours, I’m turning it over to Pauline Kahn, and I hope she tears him a new blowhole.”
She slammed the phone down, making Clark jump.
“You’re late,” she accused.
Clark glanced at his watch. “By three minutes, hardly reason to call Missing Persons. What’s the matter?”
“Sorry,” Chloe said. “It’s pretty hectic around here right now. Guess I picked the wrong day to quit caffeine, too.”
Clark’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline.
“I know, I know,” she said. “It was getting like a dependency, though. I was afraid I might have to attend Starbucks Anonymous.”
“So, do you have anything new on Fine?”
“Nothing since the business in Honduras,” she said. “It’s like he disappeared off the face of the Earth.”
“I couldn’t get that lucky,” Clark said, sighing. He was going to be at a loose end for the rest of the day. “You feel like getting some lunch later? I’ll treat, as long as you stick to decaf,” he smirked.
Chloe turned and shuffled some papers on her desk evasively. “Uhh, actually I’m having lunch with Lois.” She grinned at him slyly. “You’re welcome to join us if you can stand the girl-talk.”
He shuddered in response. “No, thank you. I listened to enough of her talking when she lived with us. These days, I’d give anything for a way to make her shut up.”
He was about to ask Chloe why she wanted him to stop by when her cellphone trilled. Later, it would occur to Clark that chance was mocking him, as if warning him to be careful what he wished for.
“Hello?---Detective Sawyer. I haven’t heard from you since the Windgate, how’s things?---Are you alright? You sound a little strange---”
As Clark watched, the change in his friend knotted his stomach. She leant forward, her eyes staring and glassy, her voice quiet as the church.
“---When?---Alright, I’ll---Yes, I’ll be over as soon as I---No, I’ll---I should call him. I know where he is---Me, too---thank you.”
She hung up; Clark was afraid to ask. “What happened?” His voice came out hoarse; he swallowed and coughed, his spit thick and clinging and his throat clenched.
Chloe shook herself out of a daze. “Ummm,---that was Maggie Sawyer---there was an accident this morning,---
She stood up, pulling her coat on.
“There was an accident, and I was next of kin, so I have to---”
She stopped. Squeezed her eyes shut and clamped a hand over her mouth, face reddened. Clark took her gently by the shoulders; she looked like she was about to scream or faint.
“What? Chloe, what is it?”
She sucked in a quick breath, looking everywhere but into his face. “Some---guy in a car mounted the sidewalk. He drove her straight into a mailbox---.”
Clark’s heart dropped to his ankles; he didn’t want to hear it, but he had to. “Is she alright?”
Chloe stared up at him, eyes wide and brimming. “She’s dead, Clark. Lois is dead.”
End prologue
-----------------
Pairing: who else?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A life in the day of Clark & Lois. This has nothing to do with my other fanfics and will be designed(hopefully) to slot neatly between 'Fade' and 'Oracle,' with perhaps a little smut chapter in the R section, if I can frenagle it right.
Recurve
----------
Prologue
-----------
6:25 AM
-------
He paced nervously, checking his watch for the third time in ten minutes. This was his last chance; after this, his resources would be exhausted, and with his lack of credibility, he’d already been turned down in pursuit of every other avenue of funding. If it didn’t work this time, the whole thing was finished.
“Doctor?”
He looked up to his assistant. “It’s almost time, sir.”
The doctor nodded, passing a final glance over the telltales. “How is the array holding up?”
“The board’s green all the way, and we have a steady test current on the stand-bys.”
“Alright,” the doctor said. “Begin the countdown.”
6:27 AM
----------
As Clark’s alarm clock went off for the third time, he said a silent thank you to the inventor of the ‘snooze’ button.
#---always flirt with death, I could kill but I don’t care about it,---#
Leaving the radio on, he dragged himself out of bed, wearing just his red T-shirt and his blue plaid boxers, muttering along to the music as he plodded fuzzily to his closet. It was one of those ‘everywhere’ songs of the moment, so the lyrics came easily:
#I can face your threats, stand up tall and scream and shout about it. I think I’m on another world with you---#
He took a deep waking breath, got dressed fast and was brushing his teeth by the second verse, singing muffled through toothpaste.
#You always get under my skin, I don’t find it irritating. You always play to win, I don’t need rehabilitating---#
That part always reminded him of Lois. Except for the ‘not irritating’ part. Even dripping wet and wrapped only in a towel, she was irritating. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to chase away the fresh mental snapshot of a naked Lois Lane ready to clobber him with a shower brush, and spat toothpaste into the sink.
#---space travel’s in my blood, there ain’t nothin’ I can do about it----#
As always, the DJ broke in before the end.
“---‘Another Girl, Another Planet,’ and that was another hit for Blink-182---”
Clark scoffed as he clicked off the radio; he knew his music. “It was the Only Ones, ya goof.”
His mother was on the way out as he came downstairs, with just enough spare time to kiss him goodbye as she dashed out to some meeting or other; he wasn’t really listening. It was Clark’s birthday tomorrow, his first without his father. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
After breakfast, he ran through his chores, a little slower than usual, then showered and changed clothes. He locked up the house, then paused on the porch, patting his pockets, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He took off towards Metropolis at a steady pace just under the speed of sound.
8:01 AM
----------
He arrived at the Planet offices slightly late, and found Chloe on the phone shouting at someone called Ron.
“I don’t care what time it is---”
She held up a finger, begging a moment of Clark’s patience, and he nodded, pulling up a chair and looking around the bustling room.
“---the follow-up on the Graham Garrett story is going to press at noon, and I don’t have the morgue files back----That’s not what you said yesterday, I’ve been stalling for you since then---yeah---yeah---put your boss on the line---oh, is he?---Well, when you see him, tell him if those files aren’t on my desk in two hours, I’m turning it over to Pauline Kahn, and I hope she tears him a new blowhole.”
She slammed the phone down, making Clark jump.
“You’re late,” she accused.
Clark glanced at his watch. “By three minutes, hardly reason to call Missing Persons. What’s the matter?”
“Sorry,” Chloe said. “It’s pretty hectic around here right now. Guess I picked the wrong day to quit caffeine, too.”
Clark’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline.
“I know, I know,” she said. “It was getting like a dependency, though. I was afraid I might have to attend Starbucks Anonymous.”
“So, do you have anything new on Fine?”
“Nothing since the business in Honduras,” she said. “It’s like he disappeared off the face of the Earth.”
“I couldn’t get that lucky,” Clark said, sighing. He was going to be at a loose end for the rest of the day. “You feel like getting some lunch later? I’ll treat, as long as you stick to decaf,” he smirked.
Chloe turned and shuffled some papers on her desk evasively. “Uhh, actually I’m having lunch with Lois.” She grinned at him slyly. “You’re welcome to join us if you can stand the girl-talk.”
He shuddered in response. “No, thank you. I listened to enough of her talking when she lived with us. These days, I’d give anything for a way to make her shut up.”
He was about to ask Chloe why she wanted him to stop by when her cellphone trilled. Later, it would occur to Clark that chance was mocking him, as if warning him to be careful what he wished for.
“Hello?---Detective Sawyer. I haven’t heard from you since the Windgate, how’s things?---Are you alright? You sound a little strange---”
As Clark watched, the change in his friend knotted his stomach. She leant forward, her eyes staring and glassy, her voice quiet as the church.
“---When?---Alright, I’ll---Yes, I’ll be over as soon as I---No, I’ll---I should call him. I know where he is---Me, too---thank you.”
She hung up; Clark was afraid to ask. “What happened?” His voice came out hoarse; he swallowed and coughed, his spit thick and clinging and his throat clenched.
Chloe shook herself out of a daze. “Ummm,---that was Maggie Sawyer---there was an accident this morning,---
She stood up, pulling her coat on.
“There was an accident, and I was next of kin, so I have to---”
She stopped. Squeezed her eyes shut and clamped a hand over her mouth, face reddened. Clark took her gently by the shoulders; she looked like she was about to scream or faint.
“What? Chloe, what is it?”
She sucked in a quick breath, looking everywhere but into his face. “Some---guy in a car mounted the sidewalk. He drove her straight into a mailbox---.”
Clark’s heart dropped to his ankles; he didn’t want to hear it, but he had to. “Is she alright?”
Chloe stared up at him, eyes wide and brimming. “She’s dead, Clark. Lois is dead.”
End prologue
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