Lois and Clark Funny Parts Six
http://digital.net/~klane/Funnyparts6.html

These segments from various fanfics are things that I found funny or witty when I read them. I hope you like them as much as I do. If you'd like to e-mail me with comments or suggestions, or you know where the fanfic came from (I didn't start labeling all of them until way after I made this page, and I've forgotten where I got most of them), my e-mail address is klane at digital dot net.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

"And you can talk to Wanda Mae about old times while I sneak off and case Will's office."
"Not true. He probably has all kinds of security systems guarding it, if he has one at all."
"Sure he has an office! That's the first thing he'd set up! You know, positive thinking for a successful business." She reached into her drawer and grabbed her purse.
"Then he'd probably set it up in town somewhere. We'll check the phone book."
"A waste of time," she claimed as she led him to the elevator. "Remember Magnum PI? He worked out of his home."
"It wasn't his home, it wasn't even an office, it was rooms he caged off that millionaire, Robyn something."
"Same thing."
"No, it's not."
People stood back as the elevator doors opened and the two entered.
"Millionaires are involved all over this case."
"So?"
"So he has his office at home."
"He might not."
She smiled at him as the door closed. They were alone. "There, that kept them out."
"There what? Who?"
"All those people who wanted to use this elevator. They all decided to take the stairs so they wouldn't get in the middle of our totally sexual innuendo-free argument."
"Ah, oh."
She embraced him and growled: "Kiss me quick."
"Yes, ma'am."


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

Lois saw it as well, looked at Clark, her eyes speaking volumes -- in an unknown language, unfortunately.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

"Disguises," she said in an effort to redirect the conversation, such as it was. "I know, we can go as Dale Evans and Roy Rogers! We haven't done a western theme in a long time."
"No."
"Maybe not so far west. You could go as a farmer looking for funding for a new crop of some kind, like . . . "
"No."
"What exotic things do they grow in Kansas?"
"Ostriches, but no."
"I can go as your lithesome daughter dressed in ostrich feathers because you'll be dressing up old and gray, just like an ostrich farmer."
"That's a sterotype. Farmers aren't all old and gray, even ostrich farmers, particularly the ones starting out needing bank funding, and certainly none of them would take their green- haired punk-rock daughters with them."
"If he has a daughter like that he'd be old and gray fast."
"Especially if she shaved half her head first."
"Now there's an idea . . . "
"No, it would never work."
"You don't want me to shave half my head."
"I'd love you just the same, believe me, but --"
"You would?"
"Well, maybe not exactly the same, but . . . " that sounded superficial, didn't it?
"I see . . . " she smiled a touch, that serene thing in action, which was a relief to see.
He decided to say: "But I'd respect you while you let it grow out."
"And you'd be cheering as it did so, is that what you're trying to say?"
"Yes."
"If I cut it, it wouldn't take long to grow back."
"Forget it." She wants to hear this from me, doesn't she?
"You care that you're happy. Looks don't count in that equation unless they make you unhappy. I think if you shaved your head you would be very unhappy."
"All right . . . Well, if you won't take me to the bank as your lithesome, ostrich feather-covered, green-haired daughter, I'll take you home because you're getting crabby."
"I'm not getting crabby, I'm being cautious. I'm worried about arriving at work tomorrow morning and seeing you dressed like . . . " his imagination failed him -- or it was more vivid than ostrich feathers and he didn't want to go there. He used to hate moments like this until he realized that such brain seize-ups kept him from haing to soothe hurt feelings. There were times he wished he'd seize-up more . . . " . . . . dressed like that."
"Well, whatever I choose, I'll bring along enough to dress you up, too."
"No way, I'm not a . . . . a Ken doll."
"But you are a doll."
"No, I'm not."
"In a manner of speaking."
"Not even that. Watch the road."
"I'm watching it. And you." She pulled up to a stop light and looked at him for a nerve- wracking moment. "All right, you're not a doll."
"Not that kind of doll."
"What kind of doll then?"
"Someday you'll find out."
"I think I already know," she smiled slyly and waved blithely at some illegally turning trucker she cut off as she slipped on to Sinibaldi.
"Yeah, right." He'd lapsed and let her see him too many times with very little clothing on. Each time it was one of those thoughtless things that hadn't occured to him might be improper to do even in his own home, even though she was becoming moer than a guest. But I'm not an exhibitionist, he thought, trying not to remind himself about the skin tight clothing he wore while helping people. The costume had seemed like such a good idea at the time . . .
Wait a minute, it still was a good idea.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

She took his hand, and as he hoped, pulled. "In your dreams, buddy," and they shared a nearly glasses-steaming, knocking-her-socks-off, wish-it-weren't-Monday-evening kiss.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

He held his breath upon entering the newroom, but didn't see Lois dressed in some bizarre undercover costume. Actually, she wasn't there. He crept up to his desk, but there were no materials meant for disguises heaped on it and none were hidden in his desk drawers. He had entertained the thought that she might disguise herself as Jane, but that meant he'd have to go as Tarzan, and it wasn't an unlikely scenario considering her admiration of his T-shirts.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

The wallpaper on his computer hadn't been changed to reflect sketches she had made of what he could wear, and none of the staff was looking at him and snickering behind a hand. This was all good news. She hadn't carried through with her threat and come in earlier dressed like a pirate queen or an Egyptian princess or an Indian mahout, her face darkened with artificial tanning cream, her hair up in a turban, and talking to everyone in a Peter Sellers-esque voice. Though she might have dressed him like a pasha, for example, inadvertently mixing cultures, and that could have been fun. But no such luck.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

If he escaped her apartment in one piece, if she didn't throw him out a window and scream, "Fly, farmboy, you're good at that!" and slam it shut behind him.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

It wasn't the fall that killed you, she reflected as she plummeted earthward, it was the sudden landing. But she screamed anyway.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

What kind of kidnapping was this, anyway? They were supposed to be telling her everything so that, when she escaped, she could use the information to track them down and bring them to justice.
Didn't they watch TV?


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

"They have Kryptonite!"
"I know!"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"No --"
"K-R-Y-P . . . toe-nite!"


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

He was no doubt, she thought, saying something terribly logical like "I fail to appreciate your attempting to harm my friend and you must not do so again . . . "
Actually, Superman made the most trite statement Clark could think of, one he had used a few times a million years earlier before he had wised up to certain ways of the world: "Do you really think that thing can hurt me?"
Obviously they did or they wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of getting rid of the lobby guard, smuggling the gun up here in pieces probably, assembling it, watching for Lois' arrival, disabling one of the elevators so she could only use the one that went to the roof, and then capturing her to use as bait. Neat plan.
But he was reasonably certain his was a better one.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

He generally knew better than to confront head on wielders of weapons like this and dare them to use them on him. Lately he worked from a distance and lasered or iced them down. It didn't make for good newspaper copy but it usually worked fine when it came to self preservation.


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

"Damn straight -- do I look like I'm -- I'm in shock or something?"
Yes. "No."


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

Clark was relieved to see though that they weren't cutting in before people with gaping gunshots wounds or children with limbs hanging off. She tried to read the small print: she blinked, frowned, growled, shoved the papers at Clark, and said, "Do these commit me to anything like giving them my first-born child?"


From Debby Stark's Dawning series

She mumbled what for all the world sounded like "luvyouclark," and then maybe "bode-a-u," which probably indicated she was seeing double from the stress and drugs.


He looked down at the saturated velvet case, and suddenly snapped it shut. "I'm sorry, Lois, you're going to need time to get used to this. I shouldn't have asked you to marry me yet."
Lois drew back, horrified. "Does that mean you're . . . you're deproposing?"
"Well, I just . . . it isn't fair to you, I'm rushing things. I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I," Clark said miserably.
"Clark Kent, you open that box again right now!" Lois demanded. "I know this is your first time proposing, but really! You can't ask a girl to marry you and then take it back!"


"Hey, kids, this is a newspaper, not a junior high school. I want to see daylight between all my reporters." Lois and Clark both smiled.


As Clark continued to tunnel, his hearing picked up a strange, rhythmic sound. He stopped digging. "Something wrong, Superman?"
"I'm picking up a sound from somewhere."
"Could somebody from the outside be headed this way?"
"I'm checking," Clark said as he swept a wide swatch of the tunnel with his x-ray vision. He soon settle on the source of the noise. Lois had removed her blouse and was repeatedly slapping the garment against her thigh in an effort to remove the telltale hand prints.
"Is it good news, Superman?"
Clark smiled absently. "Yes."


What's the temperature?" she asked, knowing he coulds see the thermometer on the fence too far away for her to read.
He glanced at it, then said, "96. But then with the humidity, it probably feels like 108 on your skin. You probably shouldn't have, ah, expanded so much energy on me." he told her, but the irrepressible grin told her he was glad she had.
"I emmensely enjoy 'expanding energy' on you, Mr. Kent, and if I'm not mistaken, you kind of like it, too."


'It's like I got caught doing something I shouldn't. Get a grip, you were only kissing Clark.' The little voice in her head was going, 'Whoo Whoo Whoo'. She looked down at her hands and found them shaking. She crossed her arms, sticking her offending hands under her arms.
Clark looked at Lois, her hands hidden under her arms. Lois looked at Clark, his hands in his pockets. They both burst out laughing.


"Do you think we waited until our wedding night?"
"MOM!"
"MARTHA!"


This went well. Almost everyone, both women and men, ran to try to catch the prize, to touch the proof that Lois Lane, devourer of worlds, winner of accolades, and dumper of Superman, was married at last and turning domestic.
The Clone watched this and clap her hands with delight. "This is fun! I want to do it again!"
Clark touched her arm, hoping to calm her. "No, sorry, we have to go..." and he motioned toward the elevator.
The touch seemed to work. "Oh..." she said, clearly disappointed, but when she looked at him, that feeling seemed to mellow rapidly. She moved as instructed into the elevator. "Okay. Now do we do the honeymoon?"
"Well..."
It was beginning to look like she'd enjoy McDonald's Playland more.


"That sounds like fun and I want to have fun. Is investigating fun?"
"It can be. You always like investigations."
"Oh...--oh, yeah, I do, but... but I think I'm going to pretend like I don't know how to do that, either, like I'm pretending not to know all about honeymoons. Is that okay?"
Good grief, why didn't she just come out and say she wasn't Lois...


He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Lois Lane had turned him into an expert on ceiling design. He could probably enumerate every crack and paint every fleck in his bedroom. Was Lois an expert too, or did romance novels have the same effect? He wondered what her bedroom ceiling was like. Then it occurred to him that if he was in Lois' bedroom and in a position of horizontality suitable for ceiling contemplation, he was likely to have more interesting thing in his line of vision. He stomped on the thought before it leaked out and attracted Lois' attention.


He was awakened, or recalled, by an insistent prodding that felt suspiciously like Lois' knee being thrust firmly and repeatedly into his shoulder. Opening his eyes, her hands were revealed to hold respectively a pile of papers and a box of chocolates. It was the same box he had purchased earlier.
"Move over and let me sit down. I have some questions for you." She set her pile of papers on the low table behind him.
Clark sat up to make room for her, but as soon as she was settled he lay down again and placed his head in her lap. She made a grumbling noise but set the box of chocolates down on his chest in a motion of post factum permission.


"Does that include throwing cold water on me and using sexual blackmail?"


The President smiled. 'So Superman misses her. How sad that Lois Lane, beautiful and talented, would wait home by the, what? Phone? Window? Microwave? to get a message from an alien who may never return. I wonder what her fiancee thinks of that?'


"It hurts so much that it actually affects me physically. I'm usually tired, I get dizzy a lot, I'm constantly nauseous, and...I'm....I'm... I'm late!"
Lois and Martha stared at each other, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Jonathan looked from one woman to the other. "Late?" he asked.
"Yes...Late!" Lois answered still in shock.
Jonathan couldn't imagine what Lois was talking about. What sort of appointment did she have? "Late for what, dear?" He asked, genuinely confused.
Martha turned to Jonathan with an exasperated look. "LATE, Jonathan. You know...LATE."
Jonathan still didn't get it.
Martha closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she smiled sweetly at Jonathan and tried to explain. "Well Jonathan, in the female reproductive system, there are ovaries. Once a month, as part of the menstrual cycle, an ovary releases an egg into the fallopian tube. The body will then get rid of the egg, unless of course it's met with sperm, in which case, the woman would have been IMPREGNATED and would notice that her little monthly visitor..."
"Is late." finished Jonathan. "How was I supposed to know what you meant? You speak in woman language!" Then Jonathan remembered how the subject came up to begin with. "Lois! You don't think you're pregnant, do you?"


The little blue stick sat innocently on the counter near the bathroom sink. Lois, Martha, and Jonathan stood staring at it wordlessly.
"It's blue." Lois stated the obvious.
"Yes, it most certainly is," Martha backed her up.
"Definitely very blue," Jonathan agreed.
With all three in full agreement on the stick's state of blue-ness, Lois once again stated the obvious. "I'm pregnant."


"What secret?" Lois asked, just coming over to the two of them.
"CLARK'S secret," answered Jimmy. "He told me something big in a letter when he left, but I sort of spilled on it before I could read what it was."
"Secret?" Lois pretended to wonder. "Oh you don't mean that thing about your...anxiety attacks, do you?"
"Huh? I mean, yeah! That's it." Clark had no idea what Lois was doing, but he just prayed that SHE knew.
"Clark has had this problem for years and years now. It's just awful. He had a lot of doubts about his self worth, you know? It resulted in anxiety attacks and total nervous breakdowns. He would freak out completely. I witnessed it once. It was a horrible sight. He got all sweaty and shaky, and he started babbling god knows what. His eyes got all glossy and he started to drool--"
Clark kicked Lois, and she abruptly stopped. "You get the idea," she finished.
"Wow, CK, I never knew, I mean, you always seemed fine," Jimmy said.
"Yeah, I...hid it well."
"So that's why you left. You went for treatment or something?"
"That's right," enthused Lois. She was having fun with this. "He went to a special clinic that specializes in his specific problem. It took hard work and lots of support, but Clark really learned to be at peace with who he is and his life as a whole. We're all so proud of him." Lois leaned over and gave Clark a kiss on the cheek. Clark blushed and gave an "aw shucks" kind of smile.
"Okay, I get you," accepted Jimmy, "but what does this have to do with Superman?"
"Superman?" Lois and Clark wondered out loud together.
"Yeah, you wrote something about him in your letter. It was about the only thing I could make out."
"Oh, um, well, ever since Superman came into his life things became a lot worse," Lois made up quickly.
"That's right," chimed in Clark. "The attacks became more frequent because..."
"...he was so dull compared to Superman!" finished Lois proudly. "Superman was this awesome guy who could fly and save people's lives, and Clark was just a farmboy from way out there. And..."
"...And it made the change from my familiar farm surroundings to city life all the more difficult." Clark continued, and he gave a look to Lois that said, "Leave it at that!"
Jimmy looked from Lois to Clark and back again. "Well hey, I'm just glad you're okay now. I've gotta to make a few phone calls for Perry, so I'll see you both later?"
"Sure," replied Lois.
"Oh, and one more thing," Jimmy had added before leaving.
"Yes?"
"I'm glad I never had to witness one of those attacks Lois was describing. That sounds nasty!"



This version of my Lois and Clark Funny Parts Six page was born on June 29, 2002
Last Update: August 5, 2003