Lois (kalalanekent) wrote,

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Posting LS: Now The Fun Begins...

Alright, here's Interim: Cycle Two, hot off Barbara's reviewing. Now it's the Girls' turn to weigh in on the situation of the last couple of months. And there has been a lot happening behind the scenes. After this, it's Lex, ho! And then we'll pick you up in Chapter Twenty, the first installment of Act Three. And there's going to be a lot going on, most especially a few surprises that some of you don't expect. There's a huge one and a somewhat large one right in the first chapter, even.

Also, as the second chapter begins, Richard and both of the twins each have secrets of their own. :)

Alright, enough chatter! Here we go with the lastest entry!

Oh, almost forgot! The song lyrics in Lois' interim are from 'Here I Am' by Marion Raven, lately the duet partner of Meatloaf on 'It's All Coming Back To Me'. Beautiful song and sums up that period of Lois' life quite well for me, even if the voice is younger than hers.



Interim Cycle Two: The “Girls”


Interim: Martha Kent

I love my son. From the moment he came toddling up to me out of that scar in the fields, naked as the day he was born with a smoking spaceship behind him and a questionable future ahead, I loved Clark with all my heart. You hear people say things like, “I couldn’t have loved him more if he was my own.” Well, as far as I’m concerned, Clark is my own..

The first arms that held him on this planet were mine. His first meal was my famous corn chowder. His first word of English was “Ma.” I was the one who wanted him, who pleaded with Jonathan to keep him, though Jonathan grew to love his son so much. And no one else will ever quite love him as much as I do, or understand that love, unless they too had the one thing they wanted most in the world literally fall from the sky and land right beside them. He is my very own miracle, my son from another star..

But as much as I love him, there are times when I could just swat him!.

Like right now. Clark really can’t comprehend why Lois is still so mad at him. He still loves her, he thinks she still loves him, she remembers everything, they should be able to come to an understanding, right? Wrong! Typical man, looking for the way to fix their relationship as if it’s a leaky faucet. Some things take time, and nothing but time, to heal. And no matter what I tell him he just will not leave well enough alone. Bad enough she isn’t speaking to him – if he keeps pushing her, she might turn that razor tongue on him again, and my boy’s heart has always been tender..

Clark doesn’t really understand women – could I expect anything else of him? He didn’t get to have the same experiences as other boys, too afraid of revealing himself or accidentally harming a girl. His strength has always been a liability in itself, and he’s been nervous about it since his powers began to show. And what a show that was….

When Clark was six or seven, we had one particularly vicious rooster. I kept meaning to make soup out of him, but he protected the hens so well that I forgave him. Well, Clark went out to feed the chickens, and that rooster attacked him. He was so surprised and so angry, and being pecked still hurt at that age, that he kicked that rooster.

Through the side of the henhouse..

He screamed so loud I thought he’d stepped on a nail or something. We found him in the chicken yard bawling, and the rooster was no more than a bloody pile of feathers against the opposite wall. Clark had never hurt a living thing before that – he knew where chicken soup came from, but he didn’t want any part of killing. He was so horrified by what happened that he got himself all knotted up about it, worried God was going to send him to Hell for killing a mean old rooster I meant to behead anyway. It wasn’t as if he meant to hurt the thing. He’d seen me shove the rooster around with my foot – not quite kick it, you know, but push it away – and there was no reason for him to think his little foot could do that..

That incident, and a few others while he was growing up, traumatized my poor son, and he was leery of girls, terrified of hurting them. If he could pick up a tractor, how easy would it be to break a girl’s ribs just by hugging her? And he had a farm boy’s education about death, life, and birth. If a normally well-behaved stallion could savage a mare, then what might my son – who could juggle horses if he wanted to – do to a girl if he lost control of himself?.

Jor-El only reinforced that with his legacy and his mission to benefit us poor, weak, primitive Earthlings. “Yours is a higher calling” my fanny! We all have feet of clay – no one can be a perfect savior except the one who already was, and my son is not Him. Clark was raised to be a man, but he always believed he could never have what a man wants: a wife, a family. He’s not even the same species as us, there’s no reason to believe he could ever father children. Though I wonder sometimes….

So Clark held himself apart from the whole world, as if his motto was “Look, but don’t touch,” and he made himself the gentlest man he could be. My heart bled, but I didn’t know how to reassure him. What most people consider his blessing is really his curse – it really might be possible for him to hurt or even kill someone purely by accident. The one time he put aside his powers and his mission to try having an ordinary life, the world fell down around his ears. And he wound up having to resume his burdens and lose the girl..

I can’t help but feel sorry for Clark. With all his great powers, all the amazing things he can do, the thing he wants above all else is the only one he can’t have. And what makes it worse is that every day he has to work with someone who does have Lois Lane, and her children; this Richard White possesses precisely what my son yearns for. I don’t know how he stands it..

And how much Clark loves those twins of hers! I hear about them every time he calls home or comes by for dinner. He adores them both, and he’s very good with them. I know it makes him wish they were his. Makes me wish they were my grandchildren, too – I think I’d make a pretty good grandma. I know a dozen cookie recipes by heart, after all. But Clark is absolutely sure that the Lane kids can’t be his. Not only are Kryptonians and humans probably incompatible, the dates are off by over a month..

Sometimes I wonder, though I won’t mention it to him – it would only make him more determined to fix things with Lois. I wish I could meet the children, see if they remind me of Clark when he was their age. I wish above all I could meet Lois and talk to her. Maybe then I could learn the truth, one way or another, and silence that little voice whispering, “But what if they are his?”


Interim: Ella Lane

My God, these kids! What on earth am I going to do with them both?.

Lucy is pregnant. Again. Another girl; that makes three girls and one boy, all in fairly quick succession. Someone’s going to be spending a fortune on prom dresses as they all hit high school. Fortunately the Troupe siblings seem to get along, or at least they do when they’re at my house. And even though I’ve gotten some funny looks walking to the ice cream shop with them, the kids are always welcome. If my snobby neighbors have a problem with my beautiful grandchildren, well, that’s their problem. Sam would’ve said, “Take a long walk off a short pier.”.

Ron wants to name the new baby Michelle, after his cousin. Or as he says, “The one everybody calls Devil because she’s always making mischief.” What a precedent to establish for their youngest, but I suppose it’s a Lane family tradition, too. I gave my daughters matching names and now they’re giving me matching gray hairs..

Lois still hasn’t told Superman the truth, and red-hot pincers couldn’t make her do it. I’ve toyed with the thought of threatening to jump off something famous downtown until I get his attention and telling him myself, but that’s just not something a man should hear from the grandmother of the kids he doesn’t know he has. But I have to talk – or knock – some sense into my oldest. As near as we know, Superman is utterly alone on this earth except for those twins. And as near as he knows, he is alone. He doesn’t even have Lois anymore..

And with Luthor knowing the twins exist, threatening them, that’s reason enough in itself to tell Superman about them. But Lois flatly refuses to do it. She’s convinced he’ll see the twins as a mistake, as living reminders of the one time he failed in his mission. Or worse, that he’ll decide only he can properly raise them to their half-Kryptonian heritage, and take them from her. Somehow I doubt he could be that cruel, but Lois’ nerves are so frayed right now she can’t even listen to anything on that subject. It isn’t fair to him. But it isn’t fair to Lois either. And it really isn’t fair to Richard..

I like Richard. He’s a wonderful man, but I was always surprised that Lois chose him. She hates military guys. And Richard’s just so … nice. Lois has been fairly mellow the last few years – mellow for her anyway – and I can’t help but cringe at the thought of him seeing her go nuclear. There are parts of Lois he’s never seen, and some of those are her worst traits. A very few are her best. The poor boy doesn’t really know her, but I’ve bitten my tongue and kept a smile on my face. Neither one will take advice from me, so why bother to give it? I just hope Lois hasn’t taken the wrong lesson from my life and decided to stay with someone just because he loves her and she’s comfortable. That wasn’t how it was between me and Sam. I loved him just as much as he loved me, even if he did make me crazy sometimes. I don’t think Lois can say that about Richard, but I know enough not to ask..

At least Lois now has someone to confide in, though I was horrified by some of what she told me. She didn’t know if the twins would have their father’s powers, or when they’d get them. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for them to be born with his strength, which might’ve killed her during the birth. That was why she wanted me there in Paris. Not just because this was her first pregnancy, but also because she really thought she might die bringing the twins into the world..

My brave girl. She knew that, and she still kept the secret she’d promised. Lois had it set up to where if anything ever happened to her, I’d get a letter telling me who the twins’ father was. Always prepared. I wonder if anyone else realizes just how often she forges ahead in spite of herself, in spite of being afraid or angry or nervous. Probably not. She’s too damn good at hiding how she feels..

Even from herself…

Interim: Lois Lane

No matter what I will be there
I'll be gentle, I'll be light
These are the words you

Whispered in the night


Now I'm standing in the cold

(Everything is said and done)
Atomic winter in my soul
(From the absence of the sun)
The only remedy I know
Is I gotta let you go so

Here I Am…

And this is what I woke up to yesterday, playing via the radio station set up on my alarm. What a way to jumpstart your morning, never mind a guilt complex, huh? I can’t even fathom when I programmed that in. Doesn’t really matter. At least I had managed to make it to my bed this time and wasn’t asleep on the couch. But with the way things have been of late….

The last thing I want to do is start this out by using one of history’s greatest clichés, one phrase hated by authors and journalists universally. Yet it doesn’t make it any less valid. Here it is, anyway: If you had told me six years ago where I would be standing – hell, if you had told me three years ago – I would have had you committed. As it is… I’m honestly considering it in my case. Then again, you think a lot of things at 4:38 in the morning..

Three and a half months. Almost three and a half months to the day. Once again I’m snatched from the arms of Death, this time by an angel who’s fallen from grace in my eyes and flung face-first into a Hell of my own making. Why is it that I could never leave well enough alone, especially where he was concerned? And why is it that my mind always tries to make this idiocy between us into something more poetic than it is?.

The fact that he creeps into my thoughts even now infuriates me to no end. He has no right to even exist for me, let alone expect anything of me, not after what happened between us. Or wasn’t supposed to have happened. That one simple act made his choice before he disappeared loud and patently obvious. He never even asked me! Sure, I was hurting, but who wouldn’t have? I had the one thing I wanted more than anything else torn away from me by sheer guilt; there was no discussion of a way to salvage things, no compromise. It was just over, as if it were an unfortunate event best forgotten. And then, even those moments I had left to cling to were gone. As if they had never been..

Unfortunately, as ‘merciful’ and ‘powerful’ as this ‘amnesia kiss’ was supposed to have been, it seems it wasn’t capable of magically erasing fertilized eggs in a human woman. Part of me is just vicious enough to wish he had seen the hell I went through when I went for a checkup for my ‘Flu’ symptoms and had Dr. Samuelle tell me with an almost paternal happiness that I was three months along. Congratulations. Sure. I remember even now the shock and horror that crashed down on me. It was impossible, I had thought. As much as I felt like a love-struck junior high kid, I had gone without a lover from the week after I met … him. There hadn’t been anyone else; despite the fact that he and I had had been flirting with the possibility of something happening, nothing had been plainly said..

I had been having somewhat vague daydreams around that time, but they had been growing more distinct as time went on. Not all of it was physical, although what I was dreaming was surpassing anything I had experienced before it. There was more, details of the battle with the Kryptonian villains that had been impossible to recall. Being at Niagara Falls, covering the Sunday supplement for Perry. But nothing had clicked. It came back, trickle by trickle, like melting snow. First, small and almost insignificant bits and pieces. Snatches of discussions. Some understanding of what had happened over those foggy three days. Then it moved faster, a stream, a river. Finding out his secret, my confession to him about my feelings, the flight north. His Fortress, all white and gleaming, the same place where the last of my childish fantasies ended. His father’s vehement disapproval, his defiant decision. Watching him walk out of that crystal chamber, stripped of everything but that handsome face and his desire to be with me. And what came after….

All that came after….

Like the entire world falling down. And it being entirely my fault. If it hadn’t been for me….

Can you even begin to imagine what it’s like to discover that the near-destruction of your planet and race has occurred because you allowed yourself to be swept away, finally falling in love for the first time in your life… with its defender? Especially once you’re aware that that defender made things right again, only to disappear? I thought I was going to go crazy, to have the weight of that knowledge almost more than I could bear a second time. To have never asked for a child, especially a child of mixed species. To look down at your growing belly, knowing that, in his mind, it never should have been. And the last thing you want is a reminder of this ‘mistake’ that he made with you. To know that he would be horrified to know that this had occurred, the memory of his father’s words probably still echoing in his mind? To have never wanted any of this?.

And loving him too much even then to do anything to prevent it in any way. Protecting his image, hiding the pregnancy for as long as I could. Standing on the roof in the snow, looking up into the sky with tears running down my face the night they kicked for the first time. Wanting him so desperately, but ashamed to admit it. Ashamed to even have this small part of him that I had stolen away from the world..

Enough of that. God, why can’t I just drop it? That’s over..

Because I can’t get him the hell out of my thoughts, no matter what I do. Damn him. Much to my own disgust, I’m realizing I’m missing him as much as I miss Richard. I’m such an idiot..

I wish I had an excuse for what happened the night of the Pulitzers. Not my finest hour, that much I’ll flatly admit. It was an intense flickering instant of complete and total insanity on my part, to be bluntly honest. I have a wonderful relationship with Richard, a life most women can only dream of. It’s comfortable, reliable, he adores the twins and loves me. Yes, loves me and I know that full well. He’s never even looked at another woman since he first asked me out. He braved office gossip and my own opposition to get to this point. He wore me down and won me beyond any shadow of a doubt. He tells me every morning how beautiful I am, how lucky he is, and wants me every night before we go to bed as much as he did when we began..

But why isn’t that enough?.

And it’s something I just don’t want to think about. Kal-El is my past, over and done. A chapter that should have been firmly closed a long time ago. It doesn’t help matters that Perry pulled a fast one. Resigned, huh? Well, that explains perfectly well why he turned up in Richard’s department a few days later. Which is just perfect, seeing as how I wanted him out of my life and now a bullpen and two panes of glass separate us. Perfect. Some day I’m going to sneak some cyanide into that old man’s coffee. Really, when he least expects it..

Besides, if that little cuteness wasn’t enough, I owe him an automatic death sentence for the fact that the two latest occupants of my house are a lizard and a weasel. Neither of which is an appropriate gift for a six-year-old. I said ‘maybe a goldfish’; Perry says, ‘Sure, I’ll get two of the most evil creatures on earth for you two, even if you are in kindergarten. Teach you some responsibility.’ More like teach Mommy to get Aunt Loueen to leash her husband. All in all, the twins’ sixth was an utter success. And it’s a good thing that the looks of delight of their faces made my heart ache to the point that I forgot to attempt to flush that iguana when no one was looking. I have the feeling that dinosaur means trouble..

I hope Perry gets the flu at the first sign of a cold wave. Would serve him right, underhanded bugger..

Of course Richard’s over the moon where Clark’s concerned, thinks of him as the brother he never had. I can’t even avoid hearing about him at home, within earshot of the twins. It does nothing for my nerves that they’re both coming home in a day or two from Mexico, where they were working on a piece about the ‘coyotes’ there. Just the thought of the two of them talking, especially Mr. Morality, makes me uneasy in the extreme. There are too many things both of them know, and don’t know, and the last thing I need is for them to play Twenty Questions: The Lane Edition. I fought their going, with no luck. Richard and Clark both seemed baffled by it. Clark shouldn’t have been..

And Perry really did put Polly Mattheson on the Superman beat. She’s writing puff-pieces, to be politically correct. Could she be any less objective, asking the most random questions? She doesn’t question his motives, doesn’t try to pry with thought-provoking statements. The tone of the articles is so worshipful, I feel like I should edit them in the Cloisters. And damn Perry, he hired back that bloody former quarterback. I’ve already announced that Lombard had better keep himself busy in Sports and stay the hell out of my newsroom. He’s a stress I just can’t take at the moment. I also try to forget the sick feeling in my stomach that this latest rash of arsonist attacks gives me. Thank God it’s died down the last little while that Kal-El’s been gone. It’s like this firebug knows it, too. And that’s a thought I don’t like at all..

With all that’s going on, I’m so tired, yet it seems impossible to close my eyes for more than a moment or two without hearing a random scratching outside near a window or a high sound that might not be the wind. Goddamn that madman. Luthor’s done exactly what I suspect he wanted. After all this time, I’m hair-trigger and attacking shadows. I’ve been on hyper-alert since our confrontation in August. The sound of winter in his voice when he spoke the twins’ names scared me more than I’ll ever tell a living soul. Even myself. It horrified me the same way that night on the dock haunts me still. There’s an inescapable feeling of inevitability. This isn’t over. Something’s beginning, something’s building even as I fight it. Sometimes I wonder if this will ever be over. Me, Luthor, Kal-El. It tears me apart to think that the sins of my past, of the ‘mistake’ that created the twins, a foolish night of selfish lust, could destroy us all. ‘For want of a nail.’.

But if Luthor thinks that he'll have even the possibility of taking them from me, he'll have underestimated me for the last time.

Tags: little secrets post

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