Chapter Text
“Uh, Lois about that article you wrote on the fruit fly infestation, do you think if it’s not too much trouble, you’ll have another go at it?” Perry asked. “And this time put a little zing into it.”
Lois suppressed a groan of displeasure. “Sure thing Chief,” she said through pursed lips. “There’d be so much zing the fruit flies will get a standing ovation.”
“If this malathion spray is so safe why are they warning us to keep our pets inside — And what aren’t they telling us about what’s really in it?” Jack asked. “You know there’s always more to these safety measures than they let on,” he said. “I won’t be surprised if it’s a government scheme to test out new chemicals on us under the guise of public health,” Jack ranted to anyone who would listen.
Jack Olsen was a paranoid, socially awkward junkie, but for once he might have said something useful. This was an angle she could run with. Chances were, he was barking up the wrong tree. On the other hand, they lived in a town with a flying alien and a radioactive monkey. The government secretly implanting tracers or drugs inside humans was not such a crazy idea.
“Come on, Olsen, give it a rest,” Clark shot Jack a look of disgust. “Not everything is a government conspiracy,” he said.
“Except usually, it is,” Cat bit the end of her pencil sensually and winked at Clark.
“The malathion spray is used to control insects, not humans,” Clark said stubbornly.
“How sure can you be of that?” Jack leaned close to Clark. “When a government agent tortured you” Jack whispered, barely audible. Nobody else heard him.
Lois sensed that the last bit wasn’t meant for her ears. Interesting. Why will the government torture a farmer from Nowereville? She filed the information away for later. She wouldn’t have heard Jack if she hadn’t been killing time in the meeting blowing spitballs at the back of Clark’s head. The lunkhead hadn’t even noticed.
“Lois,” Perry looked down at the pile of spitballs behind Clark’s chair like a disappointed father. “This is a newsroom, not a schoolyard!”
At Perry’s tone, Clark wheeled around to look at her, spitballs crunching beneath his big feet. “Seriously, Lane, how old are you?”
“Older than you!” She blew another spitball and hit Bullseye on his glasses.
“Remind me again why we’re friends?” Clark wiped at his face.
“Lane,” Perry warned.
“Alright, I’ll be good,” Lois rolled her chair away from Clark and back to Perry’s side. “Happy?” she sulked.
“Alright people, what do you think we ought to lead off with?” Perry asked.
“The counter-revolution in Markovia?”
Voices buzzed beyond the office, excited and as loud as monkeys fighting over one banana.
“I believe that’s a counter . . . counter-revolution, chief,” Clark said.
“Well, who can keep track?” Perry said distractedly, frowning at the growing crowd outside the office. “What in Sam Hill is going on out there?”
“Oh, you remember chief,” Cat sat up straighter, vibrating with excitement. “Today's the day they’re using our newsroom as a backdrop to introduce that new fragrance, Exclusive,” Cat said. “Marketing set it up.”
“Marketing?” Perry scowled. “No, I don’t remember.”
“Oh, sure you do!” Cat explained. “It’s been on for months,” Cat skipped to the window. “Ooo, Look, there’s Jennifer Aniston!”
The men predictably rushed out of the office. Jack and Clark wrestled over a prime spot. In his haste, Clark knocked over a pencil holder. Perry stood aside, watching their antics in amusement. “Hey,” Clark complained. That’s not Aniston; that’s Lawrence,” he sounded disappointed.
“Who cares which Jennifer it is?” Jack ogled the tall blonde in the middle of the busy newsroom. Cameramen flocked around Jen, who waved at her adoring fans like a princess. Jen sampled Exclusive and smiled for the cameras. Bruce met Clark’s gaze and nodded to him in greeting.
“I wanted Rachel,” Clark was crestfallen.
“Katniss will wipe the floor with Rach,” Jack clapped Clark on his back.
“Rachel is a good person,” Clark argued. Typical. He was bound to prefer the damsel in distress next door to the headstrong, kick-ass woman. Lois squeezed through the lovesick fanboys to get to her desk.
“Oh, wow, and Debbie Larkin!” Cat squealed. “I’ve got to get an interview!”
“Isn’t that the socialite Harley Quinn kidnapped?” Clark mused.
“We are never going to get any work done here today,” Lois grumbled. Some loser with a death wish placed a perfume sample on her desk with complementary ‘lipstick’ that was bound to attract her true love. She threw the promo in the trash.
“Chief, look at her,” Jack smirked. “What a babe.”
“I better not,” Perry said. “Alice would have my hide.”
“How will she know?” Clark wondered, studying Debbie Larkin. He was the only guy Lois knew who would look at one of the richest women in Gotham like a math problem he couldn’t solve.
“That woman has got spies everywhere,” Perry shuddered. “Won’t be surprised if Alice has Superman spying on me.” Clark’s ears turned red.
“Debbie publicly dumped Bruce Wayne at his birthday party,” Cat mused. “Aww-kward,” she purred.
“You mean she’s single?” Jack grinned. “Excuse me, the Main Man is in the house!” Jack fist-bumped the air.
Clark made an ugly face. “Don’t ever say that again. You sound like Lobo!”
“Lobo has class,” Jack laughed. “Unlike some aliens, I know.”
“Such a sad comment on society,” Lois fumed. “Dress a certain way, smell a certain way and the world will love you.”
“Yeah, that’s sad, Lois,” Clark said distractedly, not taking his eyes off a woman in a tight black dress. She swayed her hips as she walked by Clark, giving him quite a show. Lois was sick to her stomach. “Very, very sad.”
“Sad, little boy, seeing his first boobs.”
“Yeah, right,” Clark agreed, not listening. “We can follow that angle.” Clark was glued to a fixed point ahead. Lois craned her neck to see which babe drew her bestie’s attention. Odd. The action was happening behind Clark. The platinum screen playing The Metropolis Sharks game was the only thing of interest.
“Have you tried my new fragrance?” A blonde woman sprayed them with a tangy, powerful perfume.
“No thank you,” Lois said, but the woman sprayed her more in the face.
“God, what is that awful smell?” Clark waved his hands before his face.
“What smell? It doesn’t smell bad.” Lois sniffed the air. It smelled like freshly peeled oranges and puppy breath. Nothing too alarming. There was an undercurrent of a rainy day. She longed to feel Clark’s strong arms around her. She imagined the two of them in an alleyway, kissing passionately under the cover of an umbrella. Lois licked her upper lip, disappointed when she didn’t taste Clark.
“You don’t smell that?” Clark’s face turned green.
“It’s a bit strong but kinda nice,” Jack smiled goofily.
“Reminds me of Alice,” Perry smiled.
“Then Alice must have . . . bathed in skunk piss,” Clark made awkward gagging noises. He hugged his stomach as a surprising cough bubbled to the surface. “Like . . . rotting animal . . . oh, shit.” He grabbed the trash can from beneath his desk and spewed throwup. His eyes widened in shock, his body folding in on itself as he retched. Usually, throwup disgusted Lois. The smell mingled in with the perfume was strangely intoxicating. Clark leaned forward in his chair giving her a perfect view of his delectable ass. She fought the urge to slap him and see how firm he was.
“Oh, my poor baby,” Lois combed her fingers through his velvety, black locks. He leaned into her hand, almost as if drawing strength from her touch. She could play with his hair all day and never get bored.
She snatched a tissue and wiped bits of puke off his alabaster jaw. He was a miraculous, unearthly sculpture of male perfection. God took tender care when building Clark Joseph Kent. He chipped away a slice of the Milky Way to make the deep, cerulean eyes that looked at her with confusion. Clark’s muscles were formed from the rarest metals on earth. She bet downstairs was as gorgeous as Michaelangelo’s David. Lois’ gaze drifted to the bulge between his legs. No. So much bigger than David.
“Let me kiss you and make it all better,” Cat sat on Clark’s keyboard and dabbed at his mouth with a Kleenex. She wiped his glasses clean too. “You should really consider getting LASIK,” Cat said. “Surgery did wonders for me,” she leaned forward, showing off her cleavage.
“I didn’t know you used to wear glasses,” Clark kept his eyes trained on Cat’s face, sweat trickling down his neck.
“I didn’t,” Cat said, pressing her full breasts into Clark’s trembling hand. He dropped the pencil he had been holding. He fumbled to place his hand somewhere Cat Grant hadn’t deviled. “I know you want me, Kent,” Cat moved his hand back to her breast. “A woman knows these things,” she cupped his hand. “It’s time for you to have a taste of a real woman,” she locked lips with Clark.
The stupid bitch! Only Lois Lane got to make Clark uncomfortable. The poor man looked like he was about to hurl again.
“Get your slimy hands off my boyfriend!” Lois threw a stapler at Cat.
“Boyfriend?” Clark caught the stapler. Cat slobbered all over him. Clark struggled out from beneath Cat. “Since when? We haven’t even been on a first date,” Clark frowned.
“We need to change that,” Lois shoved Cat aside and took her place. Clark was so much better up close and personal. She felt him harden against her. “How does a picnic on the rooftop sound?” Lois traced the contours of his hard jaw. He trembled under her touch. She enjoyed the power she possessed over Smallville. If she asked him he would give her the moon.
“Then I can give you Lois Lane’s tour of the galaxy,” Lois said, slamming her mouth on his. Her tongue dived down his throat. Clark was statuesque for the first few minutes, then slowly he melted, giving in to her. He kissed her back each stroke of his tongue laced with fire and unhinged desire.
“No fair!” Cat pulled Lois off Clark. “You already have Superman. Clark is mine!” she pinched his ass possesively. Clark squeaked and rushed to hide behind Lois.
“Go get your own dorky farmer!” Lois snapped. “This one’s taken.”
“He is?” Clark asked. “I mean, I am,” his eyes lit up. “My heart only beats for one woman,” he kissed Lois’ hand. “You’re my queen,” he said. “You are the sunshine of my life,” Clark trailed kisses up her arm. “You are the wings I need to fly away.” His hot lips grazed the nape of her neck and her center exploded in heat. He undid her with such a small caress. The tight dress was too constricting. She needed release now.
“You’re going to regret rejecting me, Clark Kent,” Cat’s voice wobbled in dismay. She shot one last furtive glance at Clark and moved on to a new target. It was odd. In the last few minutes, the newsroom transformed into Cupid’s playground. Perry serenaded Rogelia near the coffee machine. Jack and Debbie were enamored on top of one of the desks. Steve was looking at Clark in a way that made Lois jealous. Even young Jimmy was flirting with an intern.
“Thanks for the save,” Clark said, returning to his desk. “I owe you one big time, Snoop,” he flicked the computer on and started typing as if they didn’t just share a mind-altering kiss. “I should file a restraining order on Cat.” He tugged a pencil behind his ear, ignoring Lois altogether. She was going to have to work harder to get what she desperately needed.
Lois reapplied her lipstick and strutted to her future husband’s desk. She sprawled across the desk like a stripper, but the lunkhead didn’t look up from his computer. “Smallville,” Lois purred.
“Just a sec Lois gotta finish up . . .” his gaze drifted up. Lois slid the slit in her skirt open, exposing her kissable thigh. She imagined Clark ripping her clothes off and grew even more aroused.
“What are you working on?” Lois smacked her lips sensually. By now usually, her target would have her naked. What was wrong with Clark?
“The dock strike,” Clark’s mouth fell open. It was good to know he wasn’t completely immune to her charms.
“You know,” Clark plucked the pencil from behind his ear and started twirling it nervously. “The two sides really aren’t that far apart.”
“How far apart are they?” Lois leaned in closer, suddenly acutely aware she wore the wrong blouse to work. Her conservative shirt didn’t have the same appeal as Cat’s.
“Lois, are you feeling okay?” Clark asked.
“Never better,” Lois purred. She ran a finger over Clark’s moist lips. “I’m just noticing how handsome you look today,” she played with his tie.
“Me? Handsome?” Clark looked at her as if she had grown a third head.
“Very,” Lois smiled. “But I would like you better naked.”
Clark glared at her and then laughed. “Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Clark said. Lois frowned. “I am not helping you break the law.”
“Who said anything about breaking the law?”
“Okay, then what do you want?” Clark leaned back in his chair. “Lois Lane does not give compliments for free.”
“I don’t want anything, Smallville,” Lois pressed a finger to his lips. “Except you. I don’t want to fight this anymore . . . what we have between us is real.”
Clark frowned. “Are you high?”
The same blond woman from earlier walked by Clark’s desk. “Have a taste of Revenge,” she smirked, spraying Clark.
“Gah, what the hell did you put in this?” Clark waved his hands madly. “Smells like animal piss!”
“That’s not very nice,” Lois chided. “I like your perfume,” Lois told the seller. “It’s sensual.” Clark’s eyebrows skyrocketed at that.
“Thank you, my dear,” she said. “Would you like a sample?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Lois offered the woman her wrist. She dabbed the perfume on her wrist. Lois rubbed the perfume on her neck.
“Great, now you smell like roadkill,” Clark crossed his arms. “You’ll need five baths to get that stench off.”
“I don’t understand,” the woman sprayed Clark with the perfume again. He recoiled and started to gag. “It’s worked on everyone else.”
“Imma gonna be sick,” Clark braced his hands on the wall, face green with disgust. His brow shone with sweat. He untied his tie. The saleswoman watched him with interest. “Sick with desire . . .” Clark fumbled. He pushed Lois against the wall. “I can’t live without you, Lois Lane.”
The saleswoman smiled satisfied and went on her merry way, spraying anyone in sight. “This will show you Lex Luthor.”
Clark tensed at the sound of Lex’s name. Lois didn’t hear what the woman said because she was so enthralled with the Adonis in her embrace. Clark sagged against her his breathing labored. He coughed into his fist. Lois kissed him and made everything better. The noise of the Planet faded in the background. Clark was the center of her universe. How had she missed the street-wise Hercules in her midst? She’ll never overlook him again. She jumped into his arms, hooked her legs around his hips, and deepened the kiss. His erection pressed through the pants.
“Lois,” Clark struggled to breathe. “We’re in the middle of a newsroom.”
“So?” Lois challenged. “Everybody else is doing it,” she said petulantly.
Sure enough, the newsroom had transformed into a brothel. Debbie Larkin laid on top of Jack in nothing but her panties. His kid brother, Jimmy, was kissing Sally in the Dark Room. Cat had sealed herself off in the copy room with Colin. Everyone was drunk on love.
“Cut it out, Lane,” Clark deepened his voice and dropped Lois. “The joke is over.”
“I love it when you use your Batman voice,” Lois purred against his mouth. “It’s such a turn-on.”
“I was not . . .” Lois sucked on his bottom lip. “Okay, maybe I was . . . that backfired royally.”
Lois giggled. “Do your Harrison Ford. Pretty please,” she squealed.
“I’m like a bad penny, I always turn up,” Clark smiled, and then his gaze brightened, an idea sinking its teeth into him. “Desist at once. That’s an order, young lady.”
Lois recoiled at the sound of her father’s voice. She felt like a teenager again getting caught red-handed smoking weed behind the bleachers. Her hands shook. “Not cool Smallville.”
“Sorry,” Clark slowly eased away from her. “But you’re freaking me out!”
Rogelia barged out of Perry’s office cursing in Spanish. Perry chased after her with a dopey grin on his face. “Espera mi amor!” Perry called after her. “My darling, my little peach pie!”
“Chief, what happened, is Rogelia okay?” Clark asked. Lois inched closer to Clark, dying to rip his tie off.
“Okay? Okay doesn’t even begin to describe her,” Perry said. “She’s the woman of my dreams. I want to shower her with gifts . . . I want to love her tender.”
“What about your wife?” Clark asked.
“My wife?” Perry echoed bemused.
“Alice, your wife,” Clark clarified. “The woman who has spies everywhere.” Lois braced a hand over Clark’s racing heart.
“There’s plenty of love to go around,” Perry chased after Rogelia.
“Elvis never cheated on Priscila!” Clark called after him.
“Actually,” Lois leaned her head against his shoulder. “Elvis cheated on her a ton. Sometimes with more than one woman at the same time.”
“Lois,” Clark said, scandelized. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, of course, baby,” Lois kissed him, losing herself in the taste of Smallville. She shoved Clark onto a desk and heard something crash. She didn’t care. She wanted Clark since the first time she saw him. There was no Lana Lang or mad scientists to hold Lois Lane back. Except for that damn baggy suit! That was going to have to go. She unbuttoned Clark’s shirt, fingers eagers teasing across his warm . . . where are the abs?
“Oh, come on. I was so close,” Lois moaned, poking at the blue fabric under his shirt. “What are you Amish?”
“You wanna Suppa I mean lunch?” Clark stammered. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
“I want you. Now.”
“I’m not on the menu,” Clark slowly backed toward the elevator. “How about pasta? You love pasta.”
“Only if it comes with a side of Smallville’s finest,” Lois tried to follow him into the elevator but the door slid shut. “No fair.”
Begrudgingly Lois got back to work, and attempted to drive Clark Kent out of her mind. The blue pen reminded her of his eyes. The underlined red words made her wish Clark were here to edit her copy. The framed picture of his parents on the desk had her spiraling down memory lane. He was her best friend. She didn’t remember a time before Smallville. He was the man of her dreams . . . how had she not realized this sooner?
She dug a photograph of Superman out of the trash bin. Superman stood beside Lex Luthor, shaking hands with the snake, glaring daggers at the cameraman. Perry deemed it too broody for publication. Lois had to agree. Superman looked like he was about to roast the camera. “How did I ever have a crush on you?” Lois said to the photo. “The real man is my partner.” she took a sharpie and drew glasses on Superman. “Much better,” she hugged the photo to her chest. “Hey, wait a moment?” she frowned at the photo. Superman looked like Clark.
“Nah,” Lois dismissed the idea. “Smallville isn’t an alien.”
But it made sense.