From: "L-Soft list server at Indiana University (1.8d)" To: "ARTF@MemoryAlpha.nil" File: "LOISCLA-GENERAL-L LOG9711A" ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 1 Nov 1997 17:38:15 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Writing tips #42: the use of analogies... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" My brother sent me this from a list someone gets. Let's all take this to heart... ;) - Debby, Debby@swcp.com **** [ Welcome to BLAGUES-L. Unsubscription info AT THE END (/jg) ] Date: Wed, 22 Oct 1997 17:37:00 -0500 Subject: Analogies probably not from great literature The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't. (Russell Beland, Springfield) McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup. (Paul Sabourin, Silver Spring) Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center. (Russell Beland, Springfield) Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\ >aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake. (Ken Krattenmaker, Landover Hills) Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. (Jack Bross, Chevy Chase) Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man." (Russell Beland, Springfield) Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington) The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. (Wayne Goode, Madison, Ala.) John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met. (Russell Beland, Springfield) The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play. (Barbara Fetherolf, Alexandria) His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge) The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon. (Jennifer Frank and Jimmy Pontzer, Washington and Sterling) [how to get on the list that sends out interesting humor...] TO UNSUBSCRIBE FROM or SUBSCRIBE TO BLAGUES-L, please DON'T REPLY to this joke! Send a message to: blagues-l-request@reymond.ch (NOT TO ME! and NOT to blagues-l either) with no subject and the word UNSUBSCRIBE or SUBSCRIBE in the BODY (NOT in the subject line) of the message. _________________________________________________________________________ ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 1 Nov 1997 20:22:06 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Debby Stark (by way of Debby Stark )" Subject: Swap-Meet: Burbank--1 of 20! Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" [if this message is Too Big... let me know! - Debby, who can cut it in half... but then that will make, um, 39 parts... surprise! a *long* one... :)... I *may* even go back and rewrite a bit... - Debby, who hasn't read this in ages...] This is the mirror half of a story called "SwapMeet: Metropolis," subtitled "We're Not in Kansas Anymore..." by Margaret Brignell, which is available in its entirety in a zipped document called SwapMeet.zip The original idea for this story was by Dory Weiss, who could not participate due to a heavy schedule. Disclaimer for Swapmeet: Burbank - I have only ever shaken Mr. Cain's hand and he wouldn't know me from Eve. I was in the same room with K (three times), and Teri and Justin (once each), and recently (August, 1996) Eddie Jones patted me on the back. However, just about every verifiable "fact" I use to base my writing on has been gleaned or extrapolated from a variety of probably trustworthy interviews. I hope I have not done any harm to any current or past inhabitants of Burbank or environs. Note: in my parts, there are some purposeful typos Swap Meet: Burbank or We're Not in Kansas Anymore... An Alternate Burbank Warner Brothers Studio Wednesday, Day One Approximately 6:30 a.m. 43 EXT. METROPOLIS SUNSET MEMORIAL CEMETERY - NIGHT - DARK AND STORMY Lois hides behind a gravestone. She's lost Clark somewhere but she's not worried; she is intrepid and after a killer story. 44 GRAVE As LIGHTNING FLASHES, mound of moldy dirt STIRS. 45 SUPERMAN LANDS, looks sternly at Lois, frowns at GRAVE and then smiles like he can't believe how ridiculous this is. 46 GRAVE Out of GRAVE RISES KRYPTONITE-COVERED Dracula. 46 SUPERMAN SCREAMS, WETS PANTS, HIDES behind Lois. Lois whips out CRUCIFIX and courageously approaches Dracula, demanding a QUOTE. 46 DRACULA CRINGES and promises FIRST RIGHTS. Dean Cain sat back and shook his head. "I don't *think* so..." Teri Hatcher smiled hopefully. "What? Did I... misspell 'intrepid'?" "No..." "'Courageously'?" "No, it's not that either." She pointed at her screen. "The special effects should be easy on that one part, huh?" Dean rolled his eyes, which gave Teri a chance to grin like he hoped she would; she'd been kidding. Unfortunately, it *was* funny. It would shed a new light on a different aspect of Superman as he... shed. "Look, don't mind *me*, go ahead and submit it. I liked the Vibro Whammy mention in the bit you showed me yesterday, the continuity is good, the fans will love it, and they'll probably... love this, too. It will give me a chance to really stretch my... talents." "Well, maybe..." as though to ease the pressure on him, "Superman is a clone in this one." "Argh--no! We did that out the..." he waved at the screen and by extension the history of his show, "the *kazoo* already!" "Okay... victim of Carbon Copy Man? Power transfer to a hapless nerd who just *looks* like Superman but parts his hair on the other side and walks with a gimp?" "Please... Those critics on the internet will hate it." "No, they just hate meaningless, unromantic arcs, just like we do. Not that this scene *romantic,* exactly, but they're working together, see?" Dean looked to the heavens again and sighed dramatically, then couldn't help but smile a little. "Yeah... I guess I better warn you, spending yesterday afternoon in that damned harness getting nine minutes of useable stock footage did *not* make me a happy camper." She squeezed his shoulder. "You'll recover, you always do, you already have," she said blithely, pitiless, but she could; she'd only had one bad scene in the episode they were wrapping up. She had been up to her knees in and then pushed by the villainess face first into simulated chocolate (two takes)--and Superman hadn't rescued her. He'd jumped into the scene, on dry land, a few moments "too late," after she had rescued herself. He had then withstood a tongue lashing and taken her home to clean up. He bet the fans on the List would speculate on how frisky, creative Clark did *that*. Teri had said something about fearing that after all her work, the scene would end up on the cutting room floor (when Clark's apparent tasteful follow up, for example, hadn't even alluded to, another missed opportunity). However, Dean knew she wouldn't let anyone see her disappointment if she was right. She had only hinted at how disappointed she had felt when the "real" writers had torn into her last script and the network's meddling had caused it to be slotted totally out of place in the show's already-too-tampered-with timeline. That was probably the reason she was sharing bits and pieces of what she had so far with him. It was a nice act of trust--and it made him an accomplice; he'd be bound to support her if she wrote in any of his ideas. Before he could make any concrete suggestions about this scene, though, she promptly changed the subject. "Did your family decide yet? Are they coming back early for the holiday after all?" There was a real downer. "No, they can't make it this weekend. I guess there's something more fascinating about New Hampshire in the fall than LA in the... whatever season we're in now, what with the extra rain." It had made shooting outside difficult at best; a muddy Superman was not a sight for sore eyes. "And Jon?" Talk about sore eyes, and red sometimes, too... Teri smiled bravely. "He's *sure* he'll be done shooting by the *next* weekend. I *know* Caracas is more fascinating than LA, but it's also too far away and complicated for me to just... drop in for a visit. But you, you won't be alone, there's that girl... what was her name? Ah..." "My latest 'luv interest'?" She cringed a little. "I wouldn't have put it *that* way." "I know, I'm just being.... When we had to shoot late Monday, that blew the date we'd planned to some club opening somewhere, and she called and..." He shrugged, trying to feel like he could shrug the whole thing off. "I'm between love interests again." "Oh, I'm sorry..." She patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Well, I'm sure you'll find something to do this weekend, some sport or something. You can wear yourself out having fun." "Yep, probably," he smiled, though he hadn't the faintest idea what he'd do since he had kept his schedule clear in the hopes his family would be back from the film his dad was shooting. Five long days, from Thursday through Monday... Well, it might not be *that* bad; something could come up if he relaxed and let it happen. It wasn't often these days that he had so much unplanned-for free time all in one lump. It was almost scary, as scary as Dracula's unexpected appearance in Teri's script... which maybe she had written just to make him laugh. She was thoughtful that way. Maybe she'd already heard about his getting dumped; things like that got around pretty quickly. He saw her glance at her watch. "Oops, 6:55, time to go." She saved her work, got out of her script-writing program, powered down her computer, and grabbed the last of her the three heavy, whole-wheat honey donuts she had been munching. They left her trailer, Dean holding the door for her, then closing it firmly, making sure it locked this time. She'd come back between shots two days earlier to see a fan just beginning to open it. The distracted tour guide had yelled, rushed to the rescue and dragged the screaming girl away. Teri had been unnerved for a while after that. But she looked in charge now. He admired how she was able to quickly transform herself from would-be writer to excellent actress. She could easily go from being light and funny, like in this latest installment of her script, to a consummate, hard- driven, narrow-eyed professional approaching a shoot. Her walk alone was almost enough to convey all that. She liked the smoothly fitting red dress and high heels she was wearing, and her hair and makeup already looked good and in little need of touch up on the set. He felt more casual about his own appearance, particularly after having survived the day before without losing his lunch. He hadn't eaten much anyhow, making up for it with a big dinner, the last of the skinless roast chicken his mom had prepared and frozen for him. Then he had worked on his idea file and a script treatment and turned in around ten, getting plenty of rest for this early-morning call. He was now in a typical CK-blue shirt, dark jacket, and, earlier on his swing by Wardrobe, he'd requested the eggplant tie (they called it that on the List). They walked down Avenue C towards Sound Stage 14C where the "Daily Planet" set was. Dean glanced up, barely making out through the lights that the cool sky was still as dark and uncertain looking as it had been during his drive in almost two hours earlier. He wondered if it would rain or just be foggy or clear up or what. It rarely rained much this time of year and hardly ever in the morning, but this was shaping up to be an unusual year in many ways. Hey, what if it rained all weekend, just *stormed,* and he had to stay inside and... sleep? Ah, sleep! Catch up over Thanksgiving Day and then start having fun on Friday. The beach--or the mountains. Take the bike, maybe look up some friends, speaking of which, it would be fun to sneak onto the Batman set again and make faces at George and Chris while they were trying to look stoic-heroic in those awful rubber suits. They hadn't laughed at *his* suit in a long time... Well, something interesting was bound to happen. He sighed and, in the interest of keeping his Supermanish figure, unwrapped a piece of gum for breakfast. They entered the set just east of the elevators and looking over the main floor. The place was a typical riot. Teri plunged into it and was converged upon by makeup people and assistants with script changes since besides the final scene with him, she still had a wrap-up scene with Lane to shoot. Dean's scene with her was scheduled and would fall naturally right after that. Waiting gave him the opportunity to stand back and watch, to drink it in and learn, he hoped, more about how to direct television shows. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back against a file cabinet, chewed thoughtfully, and blocked out the scene. In an hour or so, he, as Clark Kent, would emerge from the elevator and bounce down the ramp, flush with success in another Superman job well done, a hero again in the eyes of his beloved wife (who had entertained some doubts in this episode). He would approach Teri with just the right amount of elan, deliver his brief lines, kiss her passionately, and, then, five days of vacation. An assistant director holding a notepad rushed by, stopped, came back, frowned at him, uncertain, then had it and said: "Gum, Dean." He smiled at the fellow, tongued the wad into his cheek and said, "I know, thanks!" The AD nodded and resumed his rush away. Dean ignored the instructions and moved to an out-of-the-way place behind the camera to watch the scene play out. After twenty minutes of lighting and set fixes, everyone was ready to rehearse, which took about ten minutes. The two shots of the few opening seconds of the scene from Teri's POV (the director didn't like the first take) and then a wide angle encompassing the newsroom and some extras took another ten minutes, typical. The camera was moved, and for five minutes they shot the same scene from Lane's POV. At last, after more lighting changes, everyone was ready for the final, extended version of this scene: Lane came out of Perry's office, copy in hand, and congratulated Lois (Teri *was* Lois now). Her and Clark's latest story would put the Pasta Pirate, Al Dente, and his arch rival in the Metropolis snack food wars, the Praline Princess, in prison for eternity. "I *knew* he was a crook," Lois said, "as soon as we purloined a portion of that over-cooked pasta he was trying to pawn off on the public." "But Clark was right about her, too," Perry reminded her. "She was just too saccharin to be believed." Dean was glad Lois and Clark were getting in some newspaper work: the List was always demanding that and they were right, too. Everyone would be surprised in a few weeks because this detail was unlikely to be mentioned in the spoilers. Lois smiled and said she'd pass the good news on to Clark, and then she and Perry laughed over her strong hint/in joke that both of the Planet's best investigative reporters could use a raise to pay for newlywed expenses, like that new terrarium in which she wanted to raise frogs... The Director yelled, "Cut!" and said they'd go with this shot, "Good work, you two, etc., etc..." Dean noted the man's upbeat attitude was a little too hyper. Too much coffee too early in the morning probably, and probably not quality brew from Priscilla's, from which Dean special ordered when the going got tough. The camera dollied around and the lights were readjusted for the next scene, Clark's triumphant return. This was the last scene either he, Teri, or in this case, Justin were scheduled in, barring reshoots. Dean hadn't heard of any for himself or Teri yet, and he knew he should have by now. Maybe that was the director's problem. Was he debating sending an AD or going himself to reshoot those laboratory/test kitchen scenes for the touchy guest stars? They were demanding more *angst* and more *cringing* from their respective sidekicks, Manicotti and Jellie Beane, and better lighting for themselves. Dean decided he didn't need to sneak in to watch all that. He wound his way through the fast-moving crew. He smiled at the extras, actors playing newsroom staff people who never seemed to talk to Lois or Clark, though during these last four years they had thrilled at Superman's intrepid appearances and dutifully gawked at Lois's dazzling outfits and her show-stopping outbursts. They had also studiously looked elsewhere when the Daily Planet's two top reporters practically made out on one or the other's desk. Now that Lois and Clark were married to each other and rarely did that kind of thing any more, the "newsroom crew" could be directed to look like they were actually working. Dean spotted and high-fived Justin, who was searching for his mark, apparently moved from the day before. "Hey, man," Justin smiled, "I want to talk to you after we wrap up, okay?" "Gotcha, no problem." Just as he hit the bottom of the ramp to head up toward the elevator, Dean heard his name called and he turned back to walk over and consult with the script girl, who was standing at the Clark Kent Desk and who claimed to have a "minor" change in the script. He read it over quickly, agreed it was minor but fantastic, and committed it to memory. It was best to ignore the fact that the dialogue still didn't make much sense given the overall story line and Lois nearly being killed again, but yet another mile on the rocky road of married life had been traveled successfully. The fans would think it was Truly Wonderful and even Steamy. He nodded. "Thanks." "Dean!" He looked up. "Yo?" The Director, who was up on the landing ahead of him, pointed. "Gum." "Oh, yeah, thanks." This was one warning he couldn't "overlook." Only having to be told twice today wasn't much fun; his record was six times. He looked around for someplace to stick the well-chewed wad and chose his usual spot, the missing "L" in Clark's keyboard. Would they never get the hint and buy some real computers for the set? The fans noticed when they toured the lot. Hey, the studio got the cars at a discount rate, surely they could work a deal for some decent-looking computers. Then again, the fans might be responsible for cleaning up after him, for he had yet to return the next day to find his gum where he had "stored" it. "Places, people..." He walked back up to the elevator, only to be attacked as Teri had been earlier by makeup and clothing experts and even more assistant directors. At this time the eggplant tie was fit around his neck and he was given Clark Kent glasses. He frowned at them. "I was wearing the hornrims earlier." "No, you weren't." "Yes, I was, yesterday, around two, for the change-in-the- alley scene, which takes place about two hours before this scene is supposed to. I distinctly remember it." This was mainly because the hornrims were light plastic and pinched less than these frameless-looking ones which actually had metal frames and heavy glass lenses. Also, the hornrims made him look less like either himself or Superman, integral to a subplot of this episode, and, besides, fans noticed such bloopers. "It says here you weren't." A continuity sheet was waved before his face too fast for him to read it. The Director shouted something about hurrying things along. Makeup wouldn't be dissuaded by the truth about the glasses, so Dean sighed and put on the ones he'd been given and stepped into the "elevator." The door closed. All alone, he felt his gut tighten and ordered himself to relax. This was going to be all right, it always was, he was a pro now, or played one on TV. "Action..." Dean squared his shoulders, looked around for the feeling of Clark, and as the elevator doors open and the bright set lights hit him he transitioned into the role. He grinned to himself, practically dancing out of the elevator and down the ramp--and with every right: Al Dente, Manicotti, the Praline Princess and Jellie Beane had been dissuaded from inundating Metropolis with millions of gallons of marinara sauce on the east side of town and caramel sauce on the west; Superman had survived the masticating jaws of a giant, Kryptonite-powered taffy puller; Jimmy had been rescued from the roving, predatory noodle extruder; and Lois had rescued herself from spending the rest of her life as a chocolate-covered cherry. All was well with the world again, until next week. As she had been when Lane had left her, Teri was concentrating on her fake computer screen, fingers dueling with the glued-down, fan-proof keys of her keyboard. Justin, as Jimmy, was sitting on the edge of the desk trying to get her attention without actually interrupting her. Dean snuck up. "I can hear you..." Teri said. Jimmy rolled his eyes, gave up, grinned, and left quickly. "I can't pull one over on you, *sugar*," he smiled. He was glad now they'd added that word to the script. She turned slightly and gave him a loving smile. "Oh, you're so *sweet,* lover." "Candy jokes, ha-ha, just what we need..." and he leaned forward to meet her face to face, lip to-- "Cut, hold it, stop, freeze. Dean. Those glasses..." Dean straightened and looked at the man in charge. "Hey, I *told* them..." The Director frowned at the Assistant Director, who translated the frown and wailed to the crew at large, "Where are the other frames!?" Makeup scrambled. Dean shrugged at Teri, who, as always, looked annoyed at the interruption. It wasn't just that this one had been awkwardly placed, any interruptions annoyed her. Try being suspended 30 feet in the air, he thought at her, facing a broken camera everyone says they can't fix... The right frames were found within two minutes. Dean traded for them and went back up to the elevator to begin the reshoot. The doors closed on him. His gut tightened all over again but less so this time. "Action..." The doors opened. The lights would be up again for the scene, but the light that hit him was a little brighter than expected, blinding him for a second, making him hesitate, probably causing a restart, damn. The cast and crew, every last one of them, took the opportunity of his pause to yell: "Dean! Gum!" Dean staggered back into the elevator, grabbed on to the fake walls to steady himself, then timidly stuck his head around the right-hand edge of the door, opened his mouth wide and pointed into it. "Nah-gua..." he throated. "All right, all right!" the Director screamed. Everyone laughed, even Teri. My god, he thought, and they think *I'm* the joker around here... He wondered if she had thought this up. (continued) ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 08:24:39 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Laurie Stroh Subject: Re: Writing tips #42: the use of analogies... Debby.....you just made my day! I can't even begin to tell you what a kick I got out of reading those "analogies" ...neither LOL nor ROTFLMAO can adequately describe my feelings. Seriously, I'm not a writer and would never pretend to be one....but I am a reader and I know what's good and what's not and those analogies were not....I mean they were great for a laugh but did someone actually use them in a story? Sheese! Thanks for making my day brighter..... Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 08:32:33 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--1 of 20! oh, i see part 1 has arrived. if you say 39 parts, why does this say 1 of 20? --L (wondering when AOL will bother to deliver the rest) ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 08:39:10 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Eileen F. Ray" Subject: STORY ANNOUNCEMENT: Metropolis Blue Hi-ya Folcs Submitted for your approval is the story "Metropolis Blue" the first in what will hopefully be a continuing series of Lois and Clark fanfiction stories written in *roundrobin* style by a small group of us. These story are written *live*, i.e. online on the IRC and the various writers must think up material on the spot. However typos have been edited out (Thanks again Georgia :)). There were five participants in this particular story: Nicole a/ka CKGroupie (NKWolke@T-ONLINE.DE ); Chris a/k/a chrispat or patchris (cp13607@aol.com); Doris a/k/a Dorian or Dori (cschmill@zedat.fu-berlin.de); Zoomway (zoomway@aol.com); and myself. Comments can be sent to any of the participants or posted here to the list. I'll be posting the story in 2 parts to avoid (hopefully ;)) the AOL download problem. We hope you enjoy it. Cheers, Eileen Eraygun@aol.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 08:39:32 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Eileen F. Ray" Subject: METROPOLIS BLUE Part 1 of 2 Sat Oct 11 15:55:56 1997 METROPOLIS BLUE "Lois! Clark! Get in here NOW!" Perry's voice thundered across the busy Daily Planet City room. Lois exchanged quizzical looks with her partner, best friend, and husband, Clark. "Well, I didn't do anything! At least nothing that the chief could know about," Lois said. "What about you?" NEXT "Lois," Clark smiled. "I'm Superman, I'm always good." Lois nudged him with her elbow. "I know, but have you done anything that would upset Perry?" He shrugged. "Why don't we find out?" Lois nodded. "My plan too." They both took a deep breath and walked into the inner sanctum of the news room. They abandoned all hope. A woman in her early 40s stood by Perry's side. Perry gestured for Lois and Clark to have a seat. "This is Captain Sawyer of the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit." "Oh," Clark smiled. "I remember meeting some hopefuls when I did that academy doghouse story..er that academy assignment Perry gave me a couple of years ago. It was just in the working stages then." "That's right, Mr..?" "Kent," Clark said and shook her hand. Sawyer then looked at Lois. "And you're Lois Lane. I've been a fan quite a while." Lois blushed. "Well, I've been partnered with Clark for...years..um how is it you know me and not Clark?" Sawyer shrugged, "I guess I just notice you more." "Well, boys and girls," Perry interrupted. "It seems there's something going on at the SCU and Captain Sawyer needs your investigative skills on this one." Lois folded her arms, "And it's not like a good police scandal would hurt circulation for the Planet." "Hey, hey, hey!" Perry growled. "This is a civic responsibility...and you're right," he relented. "Scandal sells papers." Clark frowned. "What exactly is the problem, Captain Sawyer?" She sighed. "A leak. We figure someone has been bought off on the inside of the SCU and is tipping off Intergang and others." "So when you go to make a bust, there's nothing at the scene?" "Exactly, Ms. Lane." "Not only that," Perry added. "But Henderson said that it's now affecting the Metro force too. Could be a big scandal. Lots of warm bodies on this." "And so we're to...?" Sawyer handed boxes and shields to Lois and Clark, "...be cops." Lois shook her head, "Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?" "Please, Ms. Lane," Sawyer said, raising a restraining hand. "Spare me the next verse. Will you and Kent do it?" NEXT Lois took the boxes and handed Clark his. "We'll need more than these uniforms to disguise us, Chief." "Every crook in Metropolis knows who we are," Clark added. "I know that," Perry replied. "But, knowing Lois, I'm sure she can come up with disguises for you both." "That's what I'm afraid of, Chief." Clark shuddered, remembering some of Lois' more creative disguises. "She'll probably make me be the policewoman." Perry laughed. "Now that sounds like a thought." Lois grinned at Clark. "I might just do that." As they left Perry's office, Lois took pity on Clark. "Okay, I won't make you be a policewoman, but how about a visiting Scottish policeman on assignment to observe Metropolis police procedures? You could wear a kilt." Clark looked a little doubtful. "But that's a skirt, Lois." "I know, but you have such cute knees. I've always wondered how you would look in a kilt." "What about you, Lois? I think I should decide on your disguise, since you've apparently already decided on mine." NEXT "Try to find one," Lois said with a grin, "but I'm sure I'm not going to look as nice as you will!" Clark smiled back. "OK, what about another hair color for a start? You know, I really like you in burgundy." "Oh no, Clark, that'll look cheap." "no, no, not cheap. I'm going to make you some leftover from the seventies, you know, with old, dark clothes, cloudy eyes and playing the guitar..." Clark grinned and added, "That'll keep all the other guys from falling for you and well do just fine! Lois wasn't very excited about the idea of playing guitar, but she had to admit that they really needed a disguise, because their faces were two of the best known in Metropolis. They decided to try it. Next morning, they started the work at the SCU. Maggie Sawyer already had announced the arrival of a new cop from Scotland and his partner and so they were greeted warmly, by the director of the SCU. NEXT Sawyer met them at the front gate and asked them to join her in her office. When the door had closed behind them, she looked them over slowly and carefully. "That is quite a disguise you've got there. I may add that this attire is not quite in line with our dress code. But at least nobody will recognize you." Clark shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he looked down at himself at his bare, though incredibly impressive legs. The hand-knitted socks his mother had given him for Christmas just added to the authentic look and left a good portion between his socks and kilt free. When he felt Lois's eyes take in his legs and settle on his legs appreciatively, he blushed. Quickly, he focused his attention to their host. "Well, officer, what exactly do you have in mind we should do here? How do we get started?" Sawyer shrugged. "We'll have you start by a tour of the premises. Then you'll accompany one of our teams. We really don't have an idea yet where to start. We are relying on you to dig up the leads." She let her eyes rest on Lois and Clark for a while, contemplating their disguise, then added, "Your being visitors could actually be helpful. You wouldn't be suspected of having any clue as to what is going on. But we better get you started." With that, she picked up the phone and dialed to the desk outside to call in the young rookie assigned to be Lois and Clark's tour guide. NEXT "You wanted to see me, ma'am?" the young officer said timidly. "Yes, Polanski, these are the visitors I told you about," Sawyer replied. "Constable Macpherson from the Glasgow police department and Officer Leary from the SFPD. They're both here to study SCU methods in hopes of opening up similar units back in their own police forces. I want you to show them around but first, take them down to ordnance and see if we can get them outfitted with something a little less..." NEXT "Sore thumb?" Polanski asked. "That's the idea. Be gentle." Polanski nodded in the direction of the hall and Lois and Clark followed. Lois, for no particular reason other than boredom, blew the ribbons dangling from the back of Clark's glengarry cap. He turned and whispered, "Next time you're in a skirt, a super breeze may catch you off guard." "Here we are. The far row of lockers have some uniforms and gear." He looked at Lois. "There aren't separate facilities yet, but if you want to take turns, the door locks." Lois folded her arms. "We'll manage." "Suit yourself," he said, pulling the door closed. Clark started pulling clothing out of a locker. "Pants!" Lois began removing her Haight-Ashbury togs. "Is that a command?" Clark smiled admiringly as Lois fastened a Sam Brown belt to her trousers. She looked at two empty pouches. "What are these for?" "Speed loaders," Clark said as he buttoned his shirt. "And they would be?" Clark pulled two round objects from the shelf, each containing 6 rounds of ammunition. "These. You put them in the cylinder, twist, and 'voila', you're fully loaded." Lois shook her head. "I have a pistol, not a revolver." "Oops. Okay, then you have the wrong belt." "Ha ha." "Here," he said, snapping narrow pouches to her belt. "You have magazine pouches in that case." Lois placed a cap on her head in the 'low rider' position. "Great, give me Mademoiselle and Popular Mechanics." Clark smacked her rump. "Let's get out and get under, partner." "Seriously, Clark. I'd like the revolver, you take the pistol. I don't know how to work the thing." "Lois, you were born to handle a pistol, I'm speaking from experience here." "Clark--" "Okay," he smiled. "I'll take the pistol, you take the revolver. I hate losing the cool speed loaders though." "Tell it to Santa...okay, how do I look?" Clark appraised her slowly. Lois smacked his chest. "Do I look like a cop or not?" "Honey, remember when I told you about some of my weird dreams about you?" "Forget it," she sighed. "Let's go!" NEXT They gave each other one last inspecting and appreciating look. Then, stepping outside the locker room, they found officer Polanski waiting for them eagerly. Transformed into "real" police officers, they made an even bigger impression on the young officer, who promptly snapped to attention. "At ease, young man," Clark said in his best imitation of a Scottish accent. "Where do we start the tour?" Polanski stepped aside, indicating the door. "If you will follow me, sirs." NEXT "Well I guess we should start at the firing range," Polanski said as he began to shepherd both Lois and Clark down the hallway outside the locker room. "That's where we take all our VIPs. Maybe you'll get to test some of the new hardware the Captain borrowed from Fort McNamara." "New Hardware?" Lois replied warily. "Yes, ma'am, we've got some great stuff!" the young officer said happily. "Why Sgt. Turpin says some of it can stop a charging rhino." NEXT "Here, McPherson, this is a CAR-15. Give it a whirl." Clark grabbed the weapon. "It's light." "Yep, if it's Mattel, it's swell." Clark swallowed. "Aye..um..I assume this is gas operated from a closed bolt rather than blowback like an Uzi?" "Wow, I didn't think men in skirts would know so much about weapons." "We have our moments...laddie," Clark said, and began blasting at a mansize silhouette. "This needs a burst limiter. The cyclical rate is too high and the weapon and round are too light." Polanski nodded. "I'm impressed. Ever fire a real tommy gun?" "No, never." The man pulled out a 1927 A-1 Thompson submachine gun (the cool deluxe model with the fluted barrel.) "May I?" Lois interrupted, taking the tommy gun. She pointed it at the silhouette and started firing. She took out the entire center of the target. Clark whistled, "That's more like it." Polanski shook his head. "Okay, well...I guess we should move on." NEXT Polanski led the way to a patrol car. "I guess we should hit the streets. There's a demonstration scheduled in front of city hall. A bunch of those NRA nuts are protesting that gun restriction law passed yesterday." Lois and Clark glanced at each other. "What does that have to do with police corruption?" Lois whispered under her breath. Clark shrugged. "I guess we'll find out." When they arrived, the protest was in full swing. As they got out of the car, Clark got a look at the ringleader of the demonstration. He grabbed Lois and held her back a little to whisper in her ear. "That guy is a member of Intergang. I saw him with Bill Church before he went to jail." NEXT "Oh, he's a "Costmart official". I've seen him at various functions. I'm sure he's involved with Intergang, sources indicated that, too, but they were never able to prove anything." People were shouting, and suddenly a loud gunshot was fired, only to be followed by several others. The situation seemed to be getting out of hand fast. Polanski pulled the car over to the side of the street. Getting out, he looked at them. "Well, this looks like it may become dangerous. You better stay in the car and watch from a distance. We don't want to put our VIP guests in any danger." "Now wait a minute!" Lois started in protest. "Who do you think you're talking to? We're just as..." "I have my orders, ma'am. Your safety is of utmost importance." Clark could see that Lois was getting into gear really fast. Before she could interject, however, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Officer Polanski is right. And we also have a much better view from here. Thank you officer." Polanski looked at him gratefully, saluted, and then left to disappear into the crowd. When he was gone, Lois glared at her husband. "Is this how we're supposed to get to the bottom of this, just stand at the sidelines...?" Clark briefly touched his neckline, symbolically opening the top button of his shirt. "Services are needed. I could hardly change with Polanski around." As Lois again started to protest, he added, "Besides, one of us needs to observe and take notes. You really have a better view from here. I'll be back shortly. He briefly kissed her, then opened the car door, and when nobody was looking, was gone in a whoosh. NEXT (Continued next post) ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 08:39:40 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Eileen F. Ray" Subject: METROPOLIS BLUE Part 2 of 2 Metropolis Blue continued: As Superman made his way through the crowd of angry demonstrators and policemen Lois noticed that Sam Wainwright, the Costmart official, was no longer at the center of the crowd, He was moving rapidly to an alley not far from the City hall building followed by Tarses and Eisner, two members of the SCU. Sneaking behind them Lois made her way to the alley and crouched behind a parked car so she could listen to their conversation. NEXT "Look," Tarses said to Eisner. "This is not a Mickey Mouse operation." Eisner narrowed his eyes. "Look, it's all been as easy as ABC so far. Don't get nervous, or you can be replaced." "Is that a threat, Mike?" Eisner flared his jacket showing his crossdraw holster. "It's a promise!" Lois felt a sneeze coming on. As she drew in the fatal breath, a large hand covered her nose and mouth. She elbowed the intruder and then recoiled in pain. There was nothing like trying to jab the man of steel. He smiled at her, and raised his eyebrows. She loved his mocking expression *except* when it was directed at her. Clark slipped his hand away. "Okay?" Lois nodded, "Thanks." There was the sound of a shot. Clark ==whooshed== to the last known location of Eisner and Tarses, but Tarses lay bleeding in the alley. (the crowd rejoices) NEXT Kneeling down next to Lois, Clark quickly X-rayed the bullet wound. "Remember, Lois, even if she's been a traitor, we have no right to take justice in our own hands. We have to stop that bleeding however." Tearing away Tarses' bloodied uniform, he quickly directed his heat vision at the wound. Tarses winced and seem to be regaining consciousness as the twin beams of heat made searing contact with her flesh. Expecting him to finish or try to wait for his "patient's" pain to ease, Lois was amazed to see that Clark seemed to continue emitting beams of heat at Tarses' wound. "Clark...?" she whispered so close to his ear that only he could hear it. "What are you doing...?" "It was a deep wound. I needed to be very careful and sure I cauterized all of it..." NEXT As the bleeding finally stopped, Clark stopped his heat vision. Her face still contorted in pain and her breathing labored Tarses opened her eyes. "Superman...?" Tarses said weakly. "Is that you?" Clark nodded. "You've got to stop them...,before...its too..late. Intergang has the power.... and it's only a matter of ti..." but before the stricken police officer could finish... NEXT ...she lost consciousness. "Power for what?" Lois asked. "I wonder who else is involved." Meanwhile, in a hidden basement at Cosco, Mindy Church leaned back in her chair, puffing on a huge cigar. "Everything is going just fine, but we can't move on to the next step until we get rid of that party pooper, Superman." Sam jumped up. " We have that all planned, Mrs. Church." "Oh good," she purred. "You know how I can't stand to have my plans ruined by that big spoilsport. It just ruins my hair." NEXT "No prob, Mrs. Church. The man of steel is a real dead deal." "Ooh, I love rhymes!" Her girlish bimbo expression vanished suddenly as she squelched Sam's coat. "But if it doesn't, remember this rhyme; one fish two fish dead fish blue fish" She released his coat and placed the cigar back between her teeth. "Uh..I'll keep that in mind...we have a no lose plan." "I hope so, Sam, I really do, because I hate failures. I see it as a kind of...rejection. "I won't fail!" he shouted and gratefully left Mindy's web. Mindy set the cigar in the ashtray, went to a cabinet and picked up a jar marked 'fish food' she sprinkled some into an aquarium. "Well, Joey, now you feed my pretty fishes. At least I saved you the humiliation of going to trial." NEXT Back at the demonstration scene, the arriving police were using water hoses to break up the crowd. With Wainwright gone without a trace, the crowd having very effectively destroyed every trail that Superman might have come up with, Lois and Clark made their way back to the waiting car, climbing back in before Polanski returned. They used the moment of privacy to explore the options ahead of them and also each other. While they had names now, they still didn't know what power Tarses had been referring to, nor had they any way yet to prove just how Wainwright, Tarses, and Eisner were involved. They would have to rely on Tarses' testimony for that. Thus one priority was to make sure that Tarses lived to give that testimony. For now they knew her to be safe in the police hospital, though. Thus they decided to that their best bet was to stay as unobtrusive as possible until they had further leads. Just as they concentrated on a thorough exploration of each others' mouths, Clark's superhearing focused on his exploration partner rather then the outside, they were surprised by a knock on the car door. Polanski was back and cleared his throat rather noisily. When they drew apart, Polanski looked at them in apology. Clark straightened up to his full height. "Get a move on, laddie, then. I believe the next item on the agenda was the headquarters canteen wasn't it?" "Yessir." Polanski got back behind the wheel, and turning the car around set off back towards headquarters. On the back seat, Lois and Clark made a conscious effort to not snuggle too close together, but their hands soon found each other again as they rode in silence for a while. When Lois' stomach growled loudly suddenly, Clark gave her a big smile. "You *are* ready for lunch, aren't you?" She nodded eagerly. "Yeah, and they told me they had a special on the menu today." Clark had to suppress a grin. "So I heard." She looked at him expectantly. "Oh, so what's for chow then?" "Maybe you want to be surprised, just enjoy it..." "Hey, c'mon. It's not fair that you know what's on, but don't share. She poked his chest playfully. "No secrets, remember?" "All right, it's some dishes honoring visitors from different countries: You have a choice between Blutwurst and Sauerkraut and Haggis." "Is that what I think it is...?" All of a sudden she didn't look that hungry anymore. Clark was torn between amusement and sympathy for his hungry wife as the car passed the headquarters gate and then pulled to a stop before the cafeteria. Placing an arm around her, he smiled reassuringly. "Maybe if you're lucky, they'll also have sandwiches." "Oh...? Probably with leberwurst. I *hate* liver..." Getting out of the car in a hurry, she marched off towards the canteen in a hurry. Clark grinned as he followed her, knowing that Lois would soon cheer up again when she found out that Black Forest chocolate cake was also on the menu. Meanwhile, Wainwright and Eisner were meeting in a secret hideout down by the docks. Wainwright had brought blueprints of the latest version of the quantum disrupter and... NEXT "Look are you sure this thing is going to work" Wainwright asked. "Positive" Eisner said. "I've got the working model out it the car. It's one of those fancy weapons that Maggie Sawyer finagled out of the army. All we have to do is lure Superman here and poof, no more problem. It's just a question of where and when." "Aren't you forgetting something?" Wainwright asked. "What?" Eisner replied testily. "How?" Wainwright replied. "Just how do you intend to get that overgrown boy scout here?" "Simple, all we need is the right bait," Eisner replied smugly. "And while that was a problem a few days ago, *sweet* little Maggie's attempts to find the traitor have given us just what we need. Lois Lane and Clark Kent are at police headquarters right now. All we have to do is capture them. And we've got the perfect bait to attract Superman." "Sounds pretty foolproof," Wainwright agreed. "Exactly. And with Superman no longer able to prop her up, Sawyer will be through as head of the SCU. The job will be mine like it should have been from the start! From there I'll be police chief in no time flat and I'll be able to deliver the entire department to your boss on a silver platter. It's a definite win-win situation." "But what about Lane and Kent?" Wainwright asked. "What about them?" "Are you going to kill them too?" "Of course.." "But won't there be questions, a police probe, something?!" "Look I can handle any probe, I've got friends in *high* places. Besides who's going to miss two noisy reporters? You worry too much." "You bet I worry!" Wainwright replied angrily, "My boss doesn't like slip ups. We've already close to one now with Tares in police custody even if she is in a coma." "I've got a plan for that too." NEXT After they finished lunch, their guide took them to the hospital to check on Tarses. To their disappointment she was still in a coma, so they decided to go back to the crime scene to see if they could find some other clues. Wainwright and Eisner had followed them to the hospital and saw their chance to act when Lois, Clark and Polanski were examining the ground for clues. Eisner grabbed Lois from behind and pointed a gun at her temple. "Okay, you're coming with me or the little lady gets her head blown off." Clark froze. Even with superspeed, he wouldn't be able to get to Lois in time. NEXT "If you all will be so kind as to follow me, the lovely Ms Lane won't have to change the part in her hair, and I won't have to get a big dry cleaning bill." Clark moved forward, Eisner tightened his grip. "Uh huh, boyfriend. I'm sure you look good in black, but I don't think you want Lois in a six handle suitcase." Clark raised his hands. "Okay, okay, just don't hurt her." "Believe me, Kent, my little plan wouldn't work if your wife gave up the oxygen habit just now," Eisner said and tipped his head toward the parking lot. [We have an exposition wipe avoiding having to explain every dadgum move in the van and the ride to the warehouse. We now join our heroes tied to chairs in the warehouse. Lois and Clark are handcuffed back to back.] Eisner smiled. "Now a little call to the Daily Planet, a known pipeline to Superman, and the wait will be over." "Oy," Lois whispered. "Bait again! We're tied up in just one more cosmic tacklebox" "Lois--" "One week I'm a top-water lure.." "Honey--" "the next I'm spinner bait." "Honey, if they're using us as bait, then..." "They have a payoff for Superman, the biggest fish in the sea." "What we have to do is try and find out what that is..." "And put it out of commission." Clark smiled and laced his fingers with hers. "Remember those weird dreams, one did involve handcuffs." "You're turned on by this too, aren't you?" she whispered. NEXT Clark squeezed her hand just a little tighter in response. Then he broke the handcuffs easily, helping her to her feet as he got up with one swift motion. He turned and quickly took her into his arms. Pulling her close, he kissed her and when he looked at her, his eyes held the promise of many a binding activity. "We won't need those," he said, indicating the broken handcuffs. "Once we're through with this, I promise nothing will tear us apart. Have I ever told you about Robinson Island?" Picking up the twinkle in his eyes, she shook her head, "No, but I'm looking forward to finding out all about it." Sighing, she then returned to reality. "We need to get out of here fast. But what do we do with him?" pointing at Polanski who was still oblivious of his surroundings. Clark went over to him quickly, checking his pulse. Then lifting one of the unconscious man's eyelids, he said, "He seems to be OK, but he's probably gonna be out cold for a while still. While he is, I don't think he is in danger. So we just leave him here." With that he adjusted his hearing, and when he knew nobody was approaching yet, crossed over to the door. NEXT Easing the door open Clark discovered an inner office with a set of blueprints on the table. "What are these?" Lois asked as she quickly entered the doorway. "It looks like the plans for the Quantum Disbander/Disrupter." Clark whispered. "Oy, not again, first Lex, then the Presses. Now these clowns!" "Unfortunately, there's more to it than that, honey," Clark said as he picked up a spec sheet for the weapon lying nearby. "Some additional modifications have been made to make it even more effective against me...I mean Superman." "What do you mean?" "According to this spec sheet there is now an optional setting which will allow the Disbander to emit electromagnetic radiation with the same frequency as Kryptonite." "Good lord! Then we have to destroy it and these plans!" NEXT "We can destroy the plans, but they must have a working model, or they wouldn't be trying to lure Superman here." "You're right. We have to get out of here." Clark started to lift Lois to fly them out, but stopped when he heard something in the other room. "I can't fly us out of here. We would have to go past them and they're back in the other room." Wainwright and Eisner were startled to see Lois and Clark gone and the handcuffs in pieces on the floor. "Now how the h**l did they get out of those," Eisner yelled. "Take it easy, Eisner, they have to still be here. They would have had to go past us to escape." Wainwright raised the weapon. "Superman must have gotten the message by now. We don't need them anymore." Clark was watching them with his x-ray vision and saw Wainwright aim the weapon at the office. He turned Lois so that he was between her and the door just as Wainwright fired. NEXT Lois did a nice sweeping kick and knocked Clark off his feet. "For God's sake, Clark, you don't have to use the S on your chest for a bullseye! You can duck, you know! And by the way, my knees *do* bend." Clark shook his head, "You have such a sexy brain." He took her in his arms and flew her through the skylight of the warehouse. "I do know you can't fly, Lois, so wait here!" He flew from the roof in through the office door. He tied up Eisner and Wainwright at super speed and melted the disrupter. "Thanks for the invitation, boys, but I've got a dinner date. I will call Sawyer to come and get you. The jail is serving left over haggis." ***** Sawyer shook Superman's hand, "Thank you, Superman..um, do you have another name?" Clark swallowed, "My Kryptonian name is Kal-El." "Kal-El? Kal-El," Sawyer considered. "Well, anyway, thank you..Superman. I want to present you with a medal of commendation." "Please, Captain Sawyer, that's not necessary," Clark said, and then glanced at Lois. "But I've always wanted a pair of handcuffs." THE END Session Close: Sun Oct 12 01:00:52 1997 ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 09:35:01 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Laurie Stroh sage dated 97-11-02 05:02:33 EST, debby@SWCP.COM (Debby Stark (by way of Debby Stark )) writes: << This is the mirror half of a story called "SwapMeet: Metropolis," subtitled "We're Not in Kansas Anymore..." by Margaret Brignell, which is available in its entirety in a zipped document called SwapMeet.zip >> Debby or Margaret....Where can I get a copy of "SwapMett: Metropolis"? If I'm gonna read the part of the "mirror" I want to be able to read the other side too :) Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 10:55:15 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Margaret Brignell Subject: Re: SwapMeet -- The Mirror Fic Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Hi Laurie:) At 09:35 AM 02/11/97 -0500, you wrote: >sage dated 97-11-02 05:02:33 EST, debby@SWCP.COM (Debby Stark (by way >of Debby Stark )) writes: ><< This is the mirror half of a story called "SwapMeet: Metropolis," > subtitled "We're Not in Kansas Anymore..." by Margaret Brignell, > which is available in its entirety in a zipped > document called SwapMeet.zip > >> >Debby or Margaret....Where can I get a copy of "SwapMett: Metropolis"? If >I'm gonna read the part of the "mirror" I want to be able to read the other >side too :) You can get the SwapMeet.zip file at Debby's ftp site ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark under Stories If you can't ftp...Debby will send you her 20 (24K size) sections [or 39, 12K sections] of SwapMeet: Burbank if you write to her at debby@swcp.com and I'll send you the 16 (approximately 13K size) sections of SwapMeet: Metropolis if you write to me at brignell@capitalnet.com. I know it sounds like a lot of work, but I think in total both sides of this story add up to about three-quarters of a MegaByte...so it would really clog the bandwidth to post it all to the list;\ [The zip file is about a quarter of a MB in size] Hope this helps. Margaret ****************************** Margaret Brignell brignell@capitalnet.com Ottawa, Canada %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% My fanfic now available at: http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/ ****************************** ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 10:04:13 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: to those with "@mcs.com" in their address... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" I'm having trouble with nfic people on my N-list who have an address with "@mcs.com" in it (including Joyce). This happens continually. I don't know if it is "mcs" or my provider or what. If you get this message through this venue, please let me know and I'll ask my provider if it is having trouble. If you don't get this message... well, never mind :) (unless you're getting it *and* it's bouncing anyhow...) Debby Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 10:04:20 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Announcement... ta-da! Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" With the uploading of this message to the fanfic list, I'll also be loading D18 on to my site. I've converted it from Word for Windows 6.0a to txt, so the full paragraphing should be in effect. I changed the "smart" quotes to regular ones, so maybe they won't turn into funny stuff. I offer it in txt and in PKzipped txt. If you have any trouble after you've downloaded, let me know. I can also cut it into email pieces and email it, or send it as an attachment :) (txt or WinWord [*starred* words would be italicized], zipped or whole). If it weren't for the help of my creative consultants/editor-proofers, it wouldn't have been possible :) Debby Debby@swcp.com ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark Stories ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 15:03:28 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Peace Everett Subject: Re: FANFIC:Star-Crossed Lovers Redux Part 1 In a message dated 97-10-30 13:49:01 EST, Gary writes: > "Star-Crossed Lovers Redux" By Gary Rudick (gar8434@rit.edu) > > Part 1 - more to come if people like it... Well this "people" likes it! Please continue!! Peace Leaper, FoLC, Trekkie, Slider, Beastie -- so many crossover possibilities... so little time... ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 12:56:39 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Linda Deneroff Subject: Re: Announcement... ta-da! In-Reply-To: <2.2.16.19971102101011.0a5f3590@swcp.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Debbie, Can you just upload it in Word? If not, can you email it to me in Word. I hate to go through all the reformatting when you've already got it set. Linda At 10:04 AM 11/2/97 -0700, you wrote: >With the uploading of this message to the fanfic list, I'll also be loading D18 >on to my site. I've converted it from Word for Windows 6.0a to txt, so the full >paragraphing should be in effect. I changed the "smart" quotes to regular >ones, >so maybe they won't turn into funny stuff. I offer it in txt and in PKzipped >txt. >If you have any trouble after you've downloaded, let me know. I can also cut it >into email pieces and email it, or send it as an attachment :) (txt or WinWord >[*starred* words would be italicized], zipped or whole). > >If it weren't for the help of my creative consultants/editor-proofers, it >wouldn't have been possible :) > >Debby >Debby@swcp.com >ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark Stories > > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:41:08 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Teh Bepster Subject: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 1 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit IN VITRO VERITAS Season 5, Episode 5 Written by Betsy with contributions by Kathy Brown and Pam Jernigan Story by Stacey Edited by Kathy Brown Rated PG *********** Clark Kent walked quietly into the bedroom to find his wife laying on her stomach in the middle of their bed. She had their family photo album in front of her and was quietly studying the pictures. He sat gently down beside her and began to rub her shoulders through her satin pajama jacket. "Whatcha' doin', honey?" "Oh, just thinking, really." Lois turned a dreamy smile to Clark, and he smiled back. He looked over her to the page she was studying. The baby picture page. Their mothers had gotten together before last Christmas and compiled this album, taking snapshots of both families and compiling them into the Lane-Kent memorabilia collection. On any given page, you might find a picture of Lois sticking her tongue out at the smiling, chocolate-icing covered face of her sister, Lucy. Or a picture of a toothless, 7 year old Clark, in full cowboy regalia, "robbing" his Uncle Ned. But on this particular page was each mothers' favorite baby picture of their child: a grinning baby Clark and an angelic, sleeping baby Lois. "I wonder where your mom got that shot of you, Lois. I'd have thought you'd find that image-ruining even at that age. Lois Lane, *sleeping*?" Lois turned to rest on her elbow to look up at him. "Ha ha. very funny. Of course, that sly - 'I've got something up my sleeve' grin has been with you since birth, Mr. Kent." "Moi? Sly? Surely you're mistaken." He grinned an identical grin to the one in the picture, and Lois thought to herself how wonderful life could be. Then she noticed the direction his eyes had wandered and the fact that when she changed positions, her top hadn't quite turned with her. She raised one eyebrow at her leering husband, shook her head, and smiled. Clark laughed and leaned down to lightly kiss her on the lips. He picked up the album with one last look at the baby pictures, then put it on the shelf. He turned back to the bed to find Lois turning down the sheets. As they snuggled into a sleeping position, she lifted her head from his chest and asked, "Seriously, though, what do you think our children will be like?" "Seriously? Well, I think they'll have dark hair, beautiful brown eyes, creamy, delicate skin, and elfin noses. They'll be feisty in a fight, but they'll be fiercely loyal. And of course, they'll be smart. In other words, perfect. Just like you." He pulled her a bit more closely to him and kissed her nose. "Perfect?" She raised smiling eyes to him, "Ya really think so?" Suddenly, his eyes turned soft and serious. "Yeah. They'll have to be. They'll be a product of our love, and that's the most perfect thing I've ever known." He proceeded to demonstrate that perfection to her. ********** Dr. Daniels leaned away from his microscope and stretched his back. The work was slow and tedious, but the results could be phenomenal. Perfect children. He would bring to the world the ability to create perfect children. His technique was almost complete. It would take only a few more months of documented research before he would start full-scale testing. He was a man of patience and intelligence, and he knew that he would have to release his work in small stages to the public. He was willing to do this for the important advances he would bring humanity. He looked down at the sample he had just altered. It would be sold to a couple and would produce a genetically perfect baby. The price it would bring would fund two more months of research. He carefully recorded the results before storing the plate in a temporary storing facility. He shut the door of his private laboratory before going back to the main part of the clinic to retrieve another sample. It was late in the evening; he didn't feel the need to be extra cautious of his comings and goings. As he stepped into the storage facility, Dr. Daniels didn't bother to turn on the overhead lights. He knew just where he had an extra embryo frozen. He avoided the areas of the room the security camera was programmed to watch, knowing his path by memory. Often, when couples came in for his services, he performed the fertilization on several eggs, recording the number as a few less than he actually took. This way he had a guaranteed source for his research. He stored all these samples, carefully marked, in a corner cupboard. He was one of only two people with access to this area, so he was sure that his activities would remain undetected. ********** Tracey Jenkins was working late at the clinic on a Friday night. She was a fourth year med student, doing a research round at the clinic; fertility was an area that interested her. This was one of the few quiet times at the clinic, and she was trying to recount some samples she had worked on earlier in the day. She wasn't sure she liked working at the facility by herself, but she didn't know when else she could get the work done. All of the other workers had gone home hours ago, and the place was downright spooky when it was dark and deserted. The only other sound was that of the cooling unit for the storage facility two doors down. Even that sound was eerie. The clinic itself wasn't in the best section of town; frankly, since she had been held up at gunpoint the year before, Tracey had been quite skittish of being anywhere in the city alone this late at night. But she was an adult, and she knew she had to get over her fears. 'My own stupid fault. If I hadn't stayed at that party so late last night, I would have been able to count these samples right in the first place. Now I have to do it all again.' She carefully put the slide back in place. She was about to bend back over the microscope when she heard someone walking through the halls. She froze. 'No one else should be here. It's a Friday night, for goodness' sakes. And I saw everybody leave, and nobody has rung the security bell to get in!' The footsteps seemed to be heading toward her. She had no idea who it could be, but she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She could feel fear creeping up from her stomach and constricting her throat, and she tried to force herself to think rationally. 'Whoever it is won't even know I'm here, if I'm quiet. Wait. The light. It'll be visible under the door!' She streaked to the other side of the lab as quickly and quietly as she could, turning out the lights just as she heard the steps coming around the corner. She forced herself to breathe as quietly as she could. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears that she was sure whoever was walking outside the door could hear it. But the footsteps receded to the end of the hall. 'Get a grip on yourself, girl. You're perfectly safe. That security guard -- is Jeb his name? -- is just at the front desk, if you really need anything. Just calm down.' Tracey took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. Once she got control of her fear, her natural curiosity took over. She strained her ears for more indication of where the stranger had gone. She heard the beeps and realized that he was accessing the storage facility. 'The storage facility? But only two people have the code for that room. I know Dr. Crick isn't here. Could it be Dr. Daniels?' She struggled briefly with her conscience. Should she be brave and try to figure out who was going into the facility, or should she safely mind her own business? 'If it were my embryos, I'd want somebody to protect them. I'll just watch, to see if I can identify the person when they come out.' Tracey made up her mind. She cracked open the door of her lab slightly, and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark before intently studying the door of the storage room for any possible movement. Some moments later, she noticed someone who looked like Dr. Daniels walking quickly from the room with a sample in his hands. 'What on earth?' She quietly shut her door and waited until the footsteps faded into the distance and the hall grew silent. Quickly, Tracey made her way over to the computer and checked the on-line sample inventory list. If Dr. Daniels had just made an entry, she would know it was him and not an intruder. 'It says here that the last entry for sample checkout is mine. Why would Dr. Daniels take a sample without recording it? Unless it wasn't Dr. Daniels . . . Oh, geez. What should I do?' She chewed on her bottom lip in indecision before turning back to her computer. She quickly did a search to see who was on the system, confirming that Dr. Daniels was logged on. She then hacked on to the main system as an administrator, which would allow her to move around undetected. 'Nice to know that John hasn't changed his passwords in the weeks since we stopped dating!' she thought, grateful that her brief fling with the system administrator earned her the knowledge that his passwords were usually just a variation on a theme. Tracey noticed that Dr. Daniels was working on the Fantoni file. She opened a read only copy of the file. The first thing that sprang to her attention was that the file was officially closed. IVF had worked for the Fantonis. They'd just had their second child through the clinic and were listed as having no more embryos in storage. She closed the file and logged out of the administrator session. There was no way she could prove anything she had witnessed. Heck, she wasn't even sure what she had witnessed! She had no right to be logged in as the administrator, and Dr. Daniels could have something private stored in the storage facility. But she smelled a rat. 'I'm just tired. I should probably just get out of here and come in tomorrow morning.' Resigned to giving up her scheduled Saturday morning sleep-in and rollerblading session, she put her sample back into the temporary storage container and turned off her equipment. As she walked to her car, she couldn't have known that someone was monitoring her progress on a security camera. ********** The writers for the Daily Planet found themselves in the weekly staff meeting. As the social columnist raved about a soiree he would attend Friday night, Lois inwardly heaved a heavy sigh. 'I know why they call this a Bull session,' she thought. Clark looked at her and smiled a knowing smile. ". . . and once again, the Star got good box seats for the surprise hit musical Rent, while I was merely on orchestra level. How you expect me to follow all the goings on from that vantage, I'll never know." "Too bad the Star doesn't have a staff opening," Lois muttered under her breath. Perry gave her a sharp look that she returned with an innocent smile before looking down to her notepad and the mindless doodles it contained. At this point, Perry took over the course of the meeting. "That's great. On to the metro section." Miller, the society section manager, gave his editor a brief strangled look before pouting down at his own notes. "Williams, make sure your staff gives adequate coverage to the Mayor's press conference on the new education standards she's putting through. "Kent, why don't you get a background story on how different areas of the country are approaching the President's call for better education? Do a story on Daley in Chicago, the charter schools in Michigan, the Oakland district's recent trials . . . you get the gist. "Lois, I think we should develop the stories you and Clark have done recently into a series. The managed health care story and the expose on corruption in the insurance industry that came out yesterday could fit well into a series on health care. Didn't you say something about having notes on a story about Medicare and uninsured homeless?" "That's been more of Clark's pet project, but I could do some more work on it." "Do it. Any other ideas for the series I want to hear about, pronto. Kent, your story shouldn't take more than a few days, then I want you guys chasing down some more leads for this health care series. In the absence of hardened criminals and insane scientists trying to rule the world, we're going to have to make our own news. "That's it, people. Get cracking. If we don't get a scoop soon, we're gonna have to start printing Elvis sightings, and I'm sure we don't want to get into competition with the Whisper. So get on it! " The reporters moved to their respective areas; Lois and Clark were no exception. It had been a slow few weeks, with the exception of the murderer Lane and Kent had helped catch, and most of the reporting veterans were just biding time until the storm they knew to expect finally landed. Of the team of Lane and Kent, Clark had always been better at the "human interest" stories. Since working with Clark, Lois had developed more patience for stories like the recent health-care series they were working on. Lois hadn't become softer in any way as a reporter, but her field of interest had broadened with the perspective she gained from her relationship with Clark. She had a much broader life outside reporting, and it was affecting her scope, if not her style. She sat down at her desk and grimaced at the cold decaf in her mug. Ever since she had held the baby from the future, she had begun making decisions, conscious and not, to accommodate her life for a child. Drinking decaf was a precaution, a "just-in-case" they did happen to succeed in getting pregnant. 'When we get pregnant. Think positive.' She got up and walked to the break area to get more coffee. Ralph walked up as Lois was pouring more of the steaming liquid into her freshly cleaned mug. "Hey, hey, hey, what's this I see? Mad-Dog Lane drinking decaf?? What -- you knocked up or something? Heh heh, that Kent doesn't waste any time, does he? You two have only been married a year, right?" He winked at her and laughed hard at his own humor. Lois was speechless at this inappropriate and offensive one-sided conversation. She simply laughed a humorless laugh, shook her head and started to walk away. But Ralph persisted and followed her. "Say, seriously, Lois. Since Clark's working on this other story for a few days, do you think I could work with you a bit on the health care stories? I have some contacts down at Mercy who could get some good information." Ralph considered his great-aunt, who volunteered in the lobby of the hospital one afternoon, a good source. "Ralph, the only health care you need to worry about is your own. Don't you have somebody else to harass? It's too early in the week for me." Lois had never worked with a partner she could stand, except Clark. She was sure that Ralph would not be an exception. She turned her back on him and walked away. This time, he didn't dare follow. Lois walked back to her desk, looking at Clark's vacant desk. He probably had to go off and stop a bank robber or something. His absence removed her only excuse for procrastination, so she sat down at her desk to organize all the material she had for the Medicare and the uninsured homeless. It was a human interest story, pure and simple. There were no real fingers to point or criminals to uncover. So, it was, for Lois, a harder story to write. The insurance story had been much more her speed. But, it was a story she had to do, so she set her mind to it. Lois made notes on some NIH reports she needed to order. 'I hate reading those government reports. Nothing's worse!' The shrill ring of her phone startled her, interrupting her bout of self-pity. "Lois Lane," she answered in a professional voice. "Ms. Lane? Hi. I'm, uh . . . a friend of your sister's. Lucy. I was wondering . . . uh . . ." Lois rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air, silently encouraging the caller to spit it out already. "Yes, Lucy's my sister. Did you want to know how to get in touch with her?" "No, umm . . . I can't really talk right now. But I need to speak to you. It may be important." Lois felt a familiar twinge of excitement in her stomach. There was something in the way the caller was speaking: hesitance and nervousness and excitement all rolled into one. A story. She could feel it. Lois enabled the trace ability on her phone, hoping the stranger would stay on long enough to get a good trace, and turned to a fresh page on her note pad. "What would you like to talk about? Ms. . . . ?" "Tracey. And I don't want to give you details over the phone. But there's something I may be able to toss your way. Lucy always said you were more of a detective than a reporter. Anyway, uh, I was wondering if we could meet somewhere?" "How about if I buy you lunch?" 'If you're Lucy's friend, you're probably unemployed and you'll take a free meal.' "Sure. That sounds great. But I can't get lunch until 1:30 today. And I only have half an hour. Do you know where Athenian's Pizza is?" "Down near James Madison Hospital? Sure. Athenian's at 1:30?" "Great. I know what you look like, kinda, so I'll find you. Get a booth near the back, okay?" "Sure. See you then." As Lois hung up the phone, she smiled to herself. Meeting next to the hospital . . . maybe this could be the next installment in the health care series . . . . She checked her phone and found that the conversation had run just long enough for a trace. Lois decided to check in with Lucy to see if she had a friend named Tracey still living in Metropolis. Her instincts told her this could be a good lead, but she didn't want to waste time. She hadn't talked to Lucy in a while, anyway, and if this "Tracey" was legitimate, Lucy could give Lois some insights and background on this unexpected source. She chatted with Lucy for a while before putting the question of the source's identity to her. "Tracey? Sure. Tracey Jenkins is in med school at Madison. Actually, she should be almost done by now. She's really smart -- reminded me a lot of you. Why?" "Oh, I'm doing this series on health care, and I ran into her, and she recognized me and said hi." Not the truth, but close enough. The conversation continued for a while before Lois begged off, saying she had some other work to do. She hung up and began cross-referencing the number the trace on the source's call gave. It was a pay phone, in the same area as James Madison. 'So I have a legitimate source. I wonder what she has for me?' Clark had not returned to the newsroom by 12:45. Madison was on the other side of town, so Lois knew if she wanted to be there in plenty of time and get a good parking spot, she had better get moving. She put her hand recorder -- stocked with fresh batteries and a blank tape -- in her bag with her memo pad and several pens. Leaving a note on Clark's desk which told where she was, Lois strode to the elevator and was gone. ********** end part 1, continued in part 2 Beppo cyyi@musica.mcgill.ca ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* LnC Season 5: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm text only: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/s5text.htm ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:41:27 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Teh Bepster Subject: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 2 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit ********** Lois got out of her Jeep and fed quarters into the parking meter. 'She said half an hour, but I better put in for 45 minutes. These city meter maids are always looking for an excuse . . .' Lois looked around and located the pizza shop down the block. She walked quickly toward it, trying to keep warm; the early November wind was quite chilly. The shop smelled fantastic, with several pies on display at the counter. "Slice, miss?" Her mouth watered at the sausage and onion pizza, and she had to tear her eyes away to answer the question. "Not yet. I'm waiting for a friend." "Seat yourself. Catch the wife's eye when you wanna order." The burly man behind the counter nodded his head toward a stocky woman who was wiping off tables in the back. Lois smiled, thanked him, and made her way to a booth in the back of the shop. She didn't have to wait long. Lois had just begun to read the placemat (titled "a brief history of pizza") when she heard someone approach her booth. "Ms. Lane?" Lois smiled up at the young woman whose face betrayed that she was under a large amount of stress. "Lois. You're Tracey?" "Yeah, Tracey Jenkins." She shook Lois's hand and sat down opposite her. They placed their order with the waitress and looked at each other. "I guess it would be best if I started at the beginning." "Do you mind if I record this conversation as well as take notes?" "No, no. But I don't have a lot of time before I have to get back. So let me tell you everything I know. I'm a med student, doing my fourth year rotations. I'm working at an IVF clinic. Do you know what that is?" "Yes - in vitro fertilization. It's a method of conception for people having trouble, right?" "Right. Well, I've been working there for about 3 months. Two weeks ago, I was working late at the facility, counting some samples. I heard somebody accessing the storage room - where all the embryos are kept. Only two people, the head doctors at the clinic, Dr. Daniels and Dr. Crick, have access to that room. It was very late, and they both had been gone for hours. So I looked to see who it was. It could have been Dr. Daniels, but I wasn't sure. The person hadn't turned on any lights, and they were walking in the shadows along the far side of the hall. The one thing I could see clearly was that he had a sample in this hands. I checked the inventory on my computer, and none of the samples had been checked out. This is where things start to get a little weird. "I hacked on as the administrator of the computer system and checked to see if anybody else was logged on. Dr. Daniels was, in his private lab. We have automatic time-out on our accounts after 25 minutes. It's a security feature. So he must have been there. "I noted the name of the file he was working on. The file was on a couple who had completed the IVF program and supposedly didn't have any embryos left in storage. They had conceived twice -- both of the children were born healthy, even though the parents were at high risk for passing on Tay-Sachs, a genetically carried disease that is 100% fatal. The couple decided not to test fate any more and didn't have any more samples left in storage. So why was he studying their files? And what sample was he working on? What was he doing with it? "I didn't think a lot about it until I heard some of the techies talking about Dr. Daniels later on the next week. They were hinting that he lives well beyond his means, and that he's never really carried his part of the practice. Dr. Crick has about 70% of the patients, yet Dr. Daniels brings in 50% of the financial assets and uses twice as much equipment. "I got to thinking. When we fertilize embryos for implantation, we fertilize many at once, as many eggs as we can harvest from the woman that month. The most viable embryos are implanted, but if there are extras, we freeze them and store them for future use by the couple. You understand?" Lois nodded her head in agreement. She could see where this story was going. "So I figured, what if Dr. Daniels was skimming one or two healthy eggs off the top? They could be sold to other infertile couples -- egg donation is not new technology. I got to thinking that he would have to store those eggs. Then I remembered." She paused as the waitress brought their orders. They both thanked the waitress and waited for her to walk away before Tracey continued. "I've only been allowed into the storage facility twice. The first time was during a tour that Dr. Crick gave me. He referred to one corner section as Dr. Daniels's section, partly for his private clients and partly for his 'private research'. I was never to get any samples from there. Dr. Crick said these samples were volunteered. But what if they aren't? And where is he getting all the extra funding? "Maybe I'm blowing this all out of proportion. He may have a research grant, and it's completely legitimate. I really don't have the time to do any more digging, and if I'm wrong and I *did* do research like that, it could be bad for my career. But if something is wrong . . . ." It was quite obvious that Tracey was worked up over this situation. "I completely understand," Lois said. "And your name will never come into it whether or not I find anything, if that's the way you want it. But if I do run into you while I'm investigating this, just act natural. We have a reason to know each other, so it's okay to acknowledge we've met without feeling guilty, okay?" "Great. I'll keep my eyes open, too. If I see anything else, or if you need me to look for anything else, here's my mom's phone number. I'm still living at home; it's cheaper." They finished their lunches quickly, exchanging news about Lucy and getting to know each other a little. Lois decided that she liked Tracey, and Tracey decided in turn that she was glad she had trusted Lois. They exchanged a brief good-bye as Tracey ran back to work. Lois checked that she had everything, paid the bill with a generous tip, and headed back to her car. She was so deep in thought about how she would investigate this story that she almost ran into the woman who parked her motor-scooter in front of Lois's Jeep. Lois was about to start protesting quite madly when she noticed that the meter was just shy of running out of time. She unlocked her door and started the engine just as the "expired" sign popped up. Rolling down her window, she grinned at the ticket-dispenser. "Better luck next time!" 'This just may turn out to be a great day!' Lois thought to herself, and headed back to the Planet. ********** Bernard Klein looked up from his microscope as he felt a breeze across his head. 'I wish those cleaning people would learn to shut the windows. My samples could be ruined by this temperature differential!' He was about to shout for his assistant to close the window when he noticed someone standing next to him. Not just anyone. Superman. Dr. Klein straightened slowly and mentally prepared himself. "Superman. So good to see you. I realize how busy your schedule has been lately, what with that conference and all, and it's just good of you to take time out to . . . uh . . ." "Dr. Klein," Superman interrupted, "as you have stated, I am a fairly busy man. I know you're very busy, too. I want you to know that I understand and respect that, and I'm truly grateful for your help." "You know I'm always willing to do what I can to help you, Superman." Dr. Klein paused as he tried to phrase the news he had to give to Superman. "That's why it's so much harder for me to give you bad news." "Bad news?" "Well, I assume it's bad news. The second sample you gave me: it was negative." He looked at the so-called "Man of Steel" and saw a look of pure human sorrow. "I'm so sorry. But the tests are quite clear." Dr. Klein walked to a safe and pulled out a small file. "You see, here," indicating a small graph, "the enzyme assay indicates that you are missing the enzyme critical for the fertilization of a human egg. We probably would have seen that with the initial hamster ova fertilization test, but we decided to forgo that in the event that there could be an unforeseen side effect. Although, not so surprisingly, your sperm do seem incredibly human. You, after all, appear to be quite human . . ." Dr. Klein babbled his scientific thoughts aloud to cover his nervous tension. Superman was still stuck a sentence or two back, though. "My sperm act . . . human?" "Well, of course, they have Kryptonian DNA. But to a great extent, your characteristics are quite close to human. Your genome can't differ from ours by more than .5%. Of course, on a genetic scale, that can be quite huge." "But the problem you found . . ." "Actually, Superman, this deficiency occurs even among humans. You see, the rule with human pathology is that if the body makes something, it can and will go wrong. The test we used is one used commonly in human fertility experiments." "Could this test be wrong?" "The chances of that are extremely small. Better odds in Vegas. I'd offer to test them again, but the sample is destroyed in the assay." "I only ask because I have reason to believe they might be wrong." Klein looked up, surprised at this. "Do you mean . . . umm . . . are you . . . uh . . . should I be congratulating you?" Superman looked briefly confused, then shook his head slightly and smiled faintly. "No, no. I just have some alternative sources of information. They indicated that in the future . . . well, anyway, thank you for all your assistance." "It was no bother, Superman. You know, if you ever need anything, I'm glad to help." Superman took his leave, his shoulders hunched slightly as if under a great tension. Dr. Klein watched him fly away, sighed slightly, then turned back to his work. ********** Lois had been working at her desk for about five hours, getting as much information as she could on Dr. Herman Daniels. He was an incredibly bright fellow, according to all she had found. The number of prizes and awards given to him during his tenure as a student and faculty member at Harvard Medical Research Center were amazing. And he had about one hundred papers to his name. Unfortunately, the reasons he had left academia were not all that clear. Lois had already arranged a short phone interview with the head of the department at Harvard. Surprisingly, the man had made time for her that very afternoon. It was Dr. Hubert, the same one who had worked closely with Dr. Winninger on the male potency compounds that scientist had discovered in Brazil. After forgiving the initial "mistaken-identity" accusation Lois had made, he felt Lois had done a good job in exposing the truth about Dr. Winninger's death and work. "It's not often that people in the media actually show the scientific arena in a good light. But you and Mr. Kent seem to," he had said. For that reason, he had granted the interview. Lois was typing up the last of the notes from the interview and cataloging the tapes of that and her lunch interview with Tracey, when Jimmy came up to her desk with a sheaf of papers. "Here you go, Lois. All the papers you requested from Metropolis University's Medical Library as well as some basic journal stuff from our own library. Say, I was looking at the titles to some of these: 'Transplanting the human embryo, the basics of In Vitro fertilization', 'Assisted Reproductive Technology: A comparison of ZIFT, GIFT, IVF-ET and TET' -- geez, that one's a mouthful, 'Successful Embryo Implantation: a Study of Incubation Criteria'. I was wondering. This isn't, uh . . . for personal reasons, is it?" Jimmy smiled, clearly embarrassed, yet curious. Lois looked up from her computer screen. She had just caught the end of what Jimmy had said. "No, no. Of course not! A story, that's all. I got a lead this afternoon . . ." Jimmy's smile began to falter. He coughed slightly and fidgeted. "A story. Of course . . . of course it's a story. I mean, I'm sorry. I just thought, you know, what with the adoption thing you guys looked into a few months ago . . ." Lois had raised an eyebrow at him, crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair, and waited for him to finish. "Uhh . . . well, never mind." He turned quickly, almost toppling the pile of papers he had just delivered and scurried away. 'Honestly, you'd think people would mind their own business once in a while.' Lois inwardly rolled her eyes and finished her logging. Shortly thereafter, Lois looked up to see Clark walking toward her. She knew he had planned to meet with Dr. Klein earlier in the afternoon, but then she had heard several reports on Superman sightings. Wondering if he had even had time for the appointment, she studied his expression. He looked rather solemn. Since Superman had performed well all afternoon, the meeting with Dr. Klein must not have gone well. Lois felt her heart sink in her chest, but she realized that this was neither the time nor place to deal with such a personal issue. She gave him a brave smile and quietly said, "Just let me shut down my files and transfer them to my laptop. I'm just about ready to go home." Lois powered down her computer, gathered her papers and stood, while Clark waited patiently. She looked up at him then put her arms around his chest in a warm, understanding hug. She quietly broke the embrace, captured his hand, and led him to the elevator. ********** As they walked to the parking garage, Lois began outlining the afternoon's events. She explained her interview with Tracey and all of the other information she had been able to gather that afternoon. By the time she pulled the car onto the main bypass, she was summing it up for him: "So Dr. Daniels left Harvard basically for two reasons. First, his funding sources were becoming increasingly shady, and the institution has its reputation to protect. More importantly, though, was the direction his research was heading. He was working on genetic manipulation. Officials at Harvard believed this was too controversial. They were doubly glad he had left when the new anti-cloning laws were put into effect--" "The ones that were put in place after the president was kidnapped and cloned?" "That would be them. And you'll notice that several of the papers Daniels authored have come out just in the last year. Where's he been getting the money to fund all this research? Maybe it's even more than Tracey suspected. Maybe he's selling embryos, not eggs. Genetically altered embryos." "Have you been able to track down a list of the grant suppliers? Or any of his current funding sources?" "Well, I was hoping my partner could run down some of those lists. I, after all, am going to have my hands full reading all these papers." "You know, Lois, it might be easier if we switched jobs here. I can read a lot faster than you can, and those papers look pretty heavy on the technical side." "Are you implying that they're too complex for me?!" Lois raised an eyebrow to Clark, and he became slightly flustered. "No, of course not. You can do anything you put your mind to. I just thought--" "Well, you can stop right there," Lois interrupted . "I'm doing the reading part because it's an area that interests me. Particularly now. You know, I was thinking we could kill two birds with one stone, here." "Lois," Clark sighed. "I think the story is sound. But I don't want to sign up for IVF just yet." "I'm not saying sign up. I was just thinking we could pose as a couple looking at the method. You know, check out the clinic and maybe get some more information on our own situation in the process. It would be one more test we can run without going to Dr. Klein." Clark looked at her, incredulous. "Lois, I'm not going to risk any strangers handling a . . . sample like that -- let alone a person potentially capable of gene manipulation!" "I'm not suggesting that, either. At least not directly. Look, we need to find out what's going on on a more basic level if we ever want to have children. That's going to involve some risks. I'm not saying that we should just go around taking every lab test in the world. But I think *I* should be tested, to make sure I'm normal. I think we should also look into the procedures used to test male samples. "All, I'm asking, Clark, is that we keep an open mind. We could make sure the sample gets destroyed after the tests are done. Just promise me you'll keep an open mind." She turned pleading eyes from the road to her husband, who was staring out the passenger side of the Jeep. She reached out her hand to rub his shoulder before returning to the gears to downshift as she exited the bypass. "Clark, maybe now would be a good time for you to tell me what Dr. Klein said." Clark took a deep breath. "Well, the results are the same. Dr. Klein had the same tests run and they showed the same deficiencies. Basically, my sample looks normal. But it's missing one enzyme that makes it impossible for me to father children. "As a matter of fact, that's part of the reason he told me the initial tests looked promising back when we started all of this -- he was testing for unusual Kryptonian differences but it turns out the actual problem is a more basic one. Apparently, even human men are sometimes missing this enzyme. It's one of the causes of normal human male infertility. All my life I've wanted to be normal, and now I am in a way I didn't expect." He smiled a tired, humorless smile and shook his head. Clark paused for a long moment before continuing. Finally, he sighed sadly. "I think the hardest part of the whole thing is knowing it's all my fault and there's not a thing I can do to control it." Lois pulled in front of their townhouse but made no move to exit the car. She put a hand on his knee as he started to open his door. He looked at her, his eyes full of sorrow and guilt. "I won't let you think like that, Clark Kent, there is *no* blame here," she said firmly. Then she softened. "Come on, let's treat this like an investigation. We're going to figure it out together. This story on the IVF clinic may just be a good place for us to start. I'm not suggesting that we try IVF. I'm just suggesting we learn about it. Maybe, if the tests aren't too intrusive, we can even have that same basic test run one more time, just to make sure." She gave his knee a reassuring squeeze before getting out of the car. Clark opened the door to the house and allowed Lois to enter before him. She turned and gave him a reassuring hug in the foyer. "Let me go get changed, then we'll fix some supper and watch TV for a while. I'm not quite ready to read science yet. I never liked reading science books. Labs -- they were more fun. Especially when we got to blow things up!!" Lois babbled partly out of habit and partly to lighten the mood between them. It would be a long night of work, and she needed a little bit of a breather or she'd work herself into a good headache. Clark appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood and suggested that some "Mad About You" reruns -- from the first season -- were playing on the local FOX station. They made dinner and watched the show, putting their own problems temporarily to the side. ********** end part 2, continued in part 3 Beppo cyyi@musica.mcgill.ca ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* LnC Season 5: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm text only: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/s5text.htm ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:41:48 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Teh Bepster Subject: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 3 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit ********** The following morning, Lois and Clark walked into the Planet newsroom with a good deal of the background research done for the story. Lois sat down at her desk and brought up her e-mail program to get some administrative work out of the way. Clark brought her a fresh cup of coffee, and they sat together to plan the day's strategies. They knew they needed to get into the IVF clinic to get the rest of their questions answered, but getting an appointment for one of those places could take months. They knew they didn't have that kind of time. Maybe it was time to call the Chief in on this one. As if he had read their thoughts, the voice of the managing editor came booming across the floor. "Lane, Kent. My office. Pronto." Lois looked up at Clark with a furrowed brow. How did Perry always seem to know . . . ? Clark shrugged his shoulders, grabbed his coffee, Daytimer and pencil, and headed to the Chief's office. Lois followed, a bit less organized than her husband. She made it into the office, but at Perry's motion to shut the door behind her, she looked briefly at her dangerously full hands and quickly kicked the door shut with her foot. Perry looked up at the her from the piece he was editing, his eyebrow raised at Lois. She shrugged and sat down. As she carefully put down her coffee cup, Clark caught her planner before it hit the floor. Their eyes met with a smile, and Lois mouthed a thanks as Perry began to speak. "I want to know where you two are with the 'Medicare for the homeless' story." "Well, Perry, something else has come up. Yesterday I got a call from a friend of Lucy's who said she had some information for me. She works at a fertility clinic and thinks that one of the head doctors there is dealing in something shady." "You got anything besides your kid sister's friend's word on this?" "Chief, Lois and I did a lot of research last night. The physician in question, a Dr. Herman Daniels, has a questionable reputation, and certainly has a great deal of mysterious funding sources." "And what was your plan to investigate this further?" "Well, we weren't exactly sure. We figured maybe we'd try to interview the doctor, get a tour of the facility, do a little digging . . ." Clark started. "We were thinking of maybe trying to get my source to let us in after hours . . ." Lois piped in, enthusiastically. "Breaking in?" The two reporters had the grace to look a little guilty. "When you have a perfectly good cover? No, no. That wouldn't do at all. Actually, you have an appointment this afternoon, as a Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kane. You're taking a last minute appointment with Dr. Daniels to get information on the practices of assisted conception techniques." Perry searched his desk for the envelope he had used to jot down the appointment information. "But how did you . . .?!?" In mid-search, Perry looked up at Lois with raised eyebrows. "Next time, make sure Jimmy knows that you're doing background research for a story *before* you have him deliver you articles like that, Lois. He doesn't have the tightest lips on this ship. Fortunately, I figured out where you were going with this and was able to squash any rumors that might be flying around," Perry finished, raising an eyebrow and looking at them pointedly. Lois blushed slightly and started, "Oh, Perry . . . I . . ." while Clark stammered, "Jimmy's always getting confused, Chief. You know . . . you remember the time when . . ." Perry chuckled and waved his hand. "I don't want to know. I just want the low-down on this story. Here's the details for your appointment. If you don't have anything more solid by this afternoon, I want you back on the other story. We can't have this series going cold." "Sure, Chief. You'll get details as soon as we have them." Lois and Clark picked up their things and walked quickly to the door. "By the way, Lois . . ." Lois and Clark stopped before they got out the door and turned to face Perry. He had a slightly wicked glimmer in his eye as he asked: "How's the decaf?" ********** "Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Please have a seat. My name is Dr. Daniels, and, should you decide to go through the ART process, I will be the one in charge of your case." "A-R-T?" "Yes, Assisted Reproductive Technology. That's the latest term we use around here. We think it represents us so much better because there are so many different techniques involved in fertility treatment. IVF is just one of the techniques we use. Besides, ART sounds so much more approachable than 'in-vitro fertilization', don't you think?" He smiled a charming smile and Lois laughed nervously as she clenched Clark's hand. "Before I begin, I have to ask. Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar . . ." "No, no. I think we just have those kind of faces, you know." Lois smiled assuredly while Clark nodded his assent. "All right then. Let me give you a basic overview of what we do," Dr. Daniels continued. "First of all, this is just an informational meeting; we're not going to do any type of physical exams today, so relax." The doctor smiled at the couple, demonstrating a polished bedside manner. Lois and Clark each laughed and "relaxed". "Our success rate at this clinic is one of the highest in the entire eastern United States, and we are very proud of our work here. But undergoing fertility treatments is an emotional and expensive procedure, so I want you to feel informed and have time to weigh your options before you make a decision one way or another. So, today, we're just going to run through the various procedures we offer here at the clinic and let you ask any questions you might have. Later, if you do decide to work with us, we'll do complete physical work-ups on each of you, have you fill out some in-depth questionnaires, that sort of thing. Still with me?" At their nod, he continued, giving them some of the history of the clinic, his medical background, and other introductory information. Lois and Clark listened carefully as Dr. Daniels then explained the various fertility assistance methods provided at the clinic. They took notes -- though not as detailed as they would have as reporters, so as to appear as just a "regular" couple. They especially took interest in the types of tests that would be run during the preliminary work up, noting phrases like "sperm count and mobility", "assay tests", and "mucus volume and consistency". They also noted the description of in-vitro fertilization, whereby egg and sperm are combined in the laboratory and the resulting embryos are implanted into the woman's uterus. Lois and Clark exchanged a meaningful look when the doctor mentioned that unused fertilized embryos could be stored for future implantation. "I realize that I'm going through this rather quickly," the doctor concluded as he wrapped up his prepared spiel. "Let me give you this pamphlet: 'A Patient's Guide to Assisted Reproductive Technologies' that explains our processes in further depth. If you decide to go through with the procedure, just contact the front office and we'll set you up with the preliminary tests as soon as is convenient for you." "Dr. Daniels, my wife and I want to thank you for making time for us in your schedule. We know how busy you are, but we're both so anxious to see why we haven't been able to conceive. We've heard such good things about you." "Thank you, thank you. I only do what I can to ease the pain of infertility. " Lois looked at the doctor. "If you don't mind my asking, Dr. Daniels, why did you choose this field?" "Well, Mrs. Kane, I actually came into this field in a round-about kind of way. I was studying genetic disorders and found that work to be so . . . depressing. You see, I was beginning to see what actually caused some of the worst afflictions mankind has yet to overcome. Yet I was powerless to change anything. Technology is advanced enough that I could identify the problem, but not so advanced as to offer a solution. The situation was impossibly frustrating for me. Then I saw a way to put my studies of embryo development to good use. My own brother and his wife couldn't conceive. The wait for most clinics like this one are very long, and the process is so expensive. Here, with several of my own techniques being applied, we have managed to cut the price of the procedure while boosting the efficiency. A win-win situation. And, of course, nothing can beat the joy on the faces of my patients when that baby is born." Clark smiled. "I can certainly understand that. Well, Dr. Daniels, we'd both like to thank you for your efforts. I'm sure your secretary will be hearing from us soon." ********** Dr. Daniels shook hands with the couple and escorted them from the interviewing room to the lobby. As they began putting on their coats, he said his good-byes and walked back towards his lab. Just as he was about to turn the corner, however, he heard Mrs. Kane greet someone in the lobby. Curious, he turned to see who it was. "Tracey? Hi! You probably don't remember me. It's Lori, Lori Kane . . . Lucy's sister." "Lori? Oh, of course! I remember you! How are you? How's Lucy?" "She's fine. Have you met my husband, Charles?" "No, I haven't; Mr. ... uh, *Kane*, it's a pleasure to meet you." "How long have you been working here, Tracey?" "Well, I'm just doing one of my research rotations here. It's not permanent. I've been here a couple of months, and I really like it. How's Lucy doing?" "You know Lucy. She seemed like she was on top of the world when I talked to her a few days ago. Say, it's just about lunch time. How about Charlie and I buy you lunch?" "I guess I can spare half an hour. Let me grab my coat." ********** Tracey got her coat and told her boss that she was going on a short break. She walked out of the clinic and found Lois and Clark. They walked in relative silence until they got to a small yet busy deli. After they placed their orders, Tracey gave Lois with an admonishing look. "Lois, you just about gave me a heart attack in there. I didn't know what to do!" "She's doing that to me all the time. Believe me, you handled it better than most." Clark winked and smiled. "Okay, you two, no ganging up on me." The three laughed a bit before Tracey began to speak again. "Lois, I have some more information for you." Tracey hesitated slightly, looking at Clark. "Oh, you can trust him. He's my partner-in-crime, so to speak. Clark Kent, this is Tracey Jenkins." "Nice to meet you for real, Mr. Kent. I really like your work." "Thanks." Clark smiled down at Tracey. Looking at his handsome face, Tracey knew just what Lucy meant when she said that Lois just seemed to have all the luck. "Listen, I've been keeping my eyes open, just like you said. I noticed something funny." She pulled out two sheets of paper. "I work for Dr. Crick, whose lab is in the east wing. The other interns and I share a small lab at the end of the hall, behind Dr. Crick's office. It connects to her lab, which we also use." Tracey drew a basic blueprint of the east wing with the three rooms annotated. "Now, the basic interview and clinical rooms are in the center of the floor, then Dr. Daniels has the same basic layout in the west wing that Dr. Crick has in the east wing. His office is the same size as Dr. Crick's. His lab is the same and also mirrors hers. And we assistants share his lab with him. The room we have on our side is pretty small, but that space is unaccounted for on Dr. Daniels' side. I went over the other night when I was working late. I checked all over for a door. I even went outside to see if maybe the west wing looked different from the outside. But it didn't. I have a feeling that Dr. Daniels is hiding what ever he's doing in there." "So now we just have to get into his lair." "Actually, I have an idea on that, too. If Mr. Kent submits a sample for us to test, you could easily ask for a tour of the facilities while Dr. Daniels explains the results to you." Lois and Clark exchanged a look. Clark responded hesitantly. "Tracey, we're not sure we trust Dr. Daniels with a sample. Especially if he's selling things or altering them. It's just too . . . personal." Tracey waved her hand. "Don't worry. Dr. Daniels doesn't get involved at that stage. Besides, the first battery of tests destroys the samples completely, and the degraded samples, once tested, are all tossed into the biomedical waste bin. There won't be anything left for him or anyone else to alter." The trio finished their lunches, making plans and warning Tracey to keep an eye out for anything else that could help them. ********** Clark woke from a very light, disturbed sleep to find himself alone in bed. He was about to get up and look for Lois when he noticed her sitting on the window seat, bathed in moonlight. He thought for a second how lovely she was, and how lucky he was to have her in his life. Then he noticed the set of her shoulders, the tension she seemed to be harboring. "Honey, it's late, and I know you're tired. What's bothering you? " Lois got up from the window and walked back to the bed. "I just don't see how Dr. Klein can be right, Clark. I mean, you say he sounds so certain. But I *know* we can have children." Lois eyed her husband with determination. It was 1:30 in the morning, they had a long week at work behind them, and they had to go in the next morning because it was their Saturday to cover the floor. But Clark knew by the set of her jaw that she was not going to let this problem go. "Honey, Dr. Klein says his assistant has gone over the test results of both samples I gave him very carefully. The enzyme I need to fertilize your egg just isn't there. Beyond trying to manipulate my cells, there's no way that we can have children naturally." Lois lay back down with him, resting her head on her pillow so that they were facing each other in the bed. "Clark, I know we've talked about this, but I just can't help wondering if Dr. Klein would be able to work more efficiently if he knew the whole truth." Lois sighed. "I know it's way too risky -- I mean, look what happened when we told my father. But I can't help but wonder. I keep thinking: maybe if he knew it was *me* you were trying to get pregnant, maybe that would help somehow." "I'm just afraid of what could happen to him, honey. He's already under enough pressure being the 'Superman Expert.' Besides, a test is a test. Whether it's performed on Superman or Clark Kent, it's going to come back with the same results." "Yeah, but we have more information than he does. We've seen our descendants, right? And what about that cycle thing? We still don't know exactly what that meant, but it seemed to be important." She took his hand and intertwined her fingers in his. "Clark, we've come through *so much* together. We've already beaten some incredible odds, not to mention several mad scientists, a few aliens, and your random crazy-rich-guy. Do you honestly think I'm going to let one stupid enzyme get in our way?" Clark laughed a tired laugh. She had so much fire, so much life. It hurt him inside to think that he might never see that fire in a child they created together. Although he had held a child that was descended from *a* Lois and Clark, he couldn't help but worry that the people he met were from a different time line or universe, especially given all he and Lois's dealings with the Alternative Metropolis over the last couple of years. There was still no way to *prove* that he and Lois could have children of their own. "Here, roll over," he said, indicating for her to face away from him. "You're so tense. You need to relax and get some sleep." He began to rub her back and shoulders under her night shirt. "It's just that I hate leaving problems unsolved." She stifled a little yawn as she relaxed under Clark's soothing hands. Clark moved closer and began planting butterfly kisses on her neck. "Well, what do you say we run these tests one more time. You know, even baseball players get three strikes." She turned to him in surprise. "Do you mean it? Run a test at the clinic?" "I've been thinking about it, too. Dr. Klein and Tracey both said the tests are destructive. Besides, if we do find a secret room when we go for the test, we're going to have to come back later to investigate it. That would be the perfect time to retrieve or destroy any remaining sample." "Well, I think that's about as foolproof as things can get." "And this way, we get another test without bothering Dr. Klein again." Lois kissed his mouth gleefully and felt him return it hungrily. As their lips parted, she gave him a special grin. "I don't care what any of them say, Mr. Kent. I think your 'samples' are just perfect!" ********** The day of the second appointment with Dr. Daniels arrived quickly. Clark mentioned a bit of apprehension at answering such personal questions, especially under a false identity and to strangers suspected of wrong-doings, so Lois decided to coach him a bit in the car. "Lying is an art form, Clark. The key to success is that you have to stay as close to the truth as possible. So we give them fake names, but otherwise, we tell the whole truth. You see, you get caught when you embellish too much." "Lois, I think I can handle it. After all, I have been living with two identities for five years now." Lois shot him a look of amazement and rolled her eyes, teasing him. "Well, that doesn't prove anything. Look at some of the excuses you came up with before you had me helping you out. Next thing you know, you'll be telling Dr. Daniels that you're a member of the Cheese Of The Month Club." The teasing banter continued until they were in the clinic waiting room and greeted by the doctor himself. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Kane. I'm so glad to see you back so soon. You both look nervous, but just remember, hundreds of couples go through this treatment, and we haven't lost any yet!" His attempt at humor lightened the mood a little, and Lois laughed. "We're ready for anything you have to throw at us, Dr. Daniels." "Well, I trust none of it will be too painful." He led them to a small room in the center of the building, where a young man in a lab coat stood waiting for them. "Mr. Kane, this is Bill, my assistant. He'll show you to a room where you can provide us with the sample we need. Mrs. Kane, you can wait here and fill out this questionnaire with as much information as you can. When Mr. Kane is done, Bill will show the two of you to my office, then we'll sit down and go over some of your history." ********** When Clark returned to the waiting room, Lois was still trying to finish up the medical history questionnaire. She looked at her watch. "Geez, that was pretty fast. No stage fright?" "Lo-is." Clark flushed slightly. "Please." He took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I guess I'm just kinda getting used to delivering these samples in clinical situations, that's all. Of course, the pictures I have of you in my wallet help." "Pictures?! What pictures?!" "Gotcha." He grinned, and it was her turn to blush. "Now, shall we go find Bill?" The lab assistant guided them to Dr. Daniels's office, where the doctor was working on some paperwork. The walls of his office were covered with a mixture of Escher prints and degrees, demonstrating the doctor's intellect as well as his taste. It was obvious that the surroundings were supposed to look professional as well as personal, and the overall effect calmed and reassured many prospective patients. "Now, let's have a look at what you've filled out here. Mrs. Kane, your medical history seems complete, the physical came out completely normal, and your family history seems normal. "Mr. Kane, your information is a bit more sketchy. You were adopted?" "Yes, and I have no idea of my family's medical history." "That's unfortunate. But not tragic. We won't worry about that unless we come back with a negative result on your activity test." "When can we expect that result?" "Well, Tracey Jenkins should be running those tests this afternoon. I believe you are acquainted with her?" "Yeah, kinda. She's a friend of my sister," Lois replied smoothly. Dr. Daniels smiled and nodded. "Well, she said she'd put a priority on it. I guess it is who you know, after all. Anyway, she should have the results in a few days and we'll work from there. In the meantime, are there any other questions you have for me?" Lois looked at Clark, who gave the signal that he had found whatever he was looking for in his super-search of the room. They could leave whenever she wanted. "No, not right now, Dr. Daniels, thank you. We're just anxious to get the test results." They stood up and exchanged good-byes. The doctor led them to the front desk so they could make an appointment for the next phase of the treatment. When they got outside of the building, Clark revealed what he had found. "There's another room, which appears to be a laboratory, connected to his office, just as Tracey suspected. He has all sorts of equipment in there; there's no telling what he's doing." "Or why he's hiding it. By the way, I read through our contract with them, and there is a clause that once we withdraw our samples, our file is to be sealed. Therefore, if the couple Tracey told me about did finish up, their file should never have been signed out to Dr. Daniels. That in itself is illegal." "Well, what do you say we call Tracey tonight and have her let us into the clinic tomorrow night. I saw in Daniels' appointment book that he has some sort of convention out of town tomorrow, so it will be good timing." ********** end part 3, continued in part 4 Beppo cyyi@musica.mcgill.ca ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* LnC Season 5: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm text only: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/s5text.htm ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:42:10 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Teh Bepster Subject: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 4 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit ********** The following evening, they met Tracey at the back door of the clinic at the pre-arranged time. "Come on in, guys. Hurry. The camera swings back this way in 5 seconds." They raced through the door and Tracey led them to the lab behind Dr. Daniels's office. "I think there must be a door into the extra room both in this room and in his office, just as there is to our other lab. I just don't know exactly where. On our side, it's where this chemical cabinet is on this side." Lois stepped up to the large cabinet and tried to open it. The cabinet door was locked. She opened her purse and pulled out some devices. After a few seconds, the sound of the lock coming undone echoed through the lab. She opened the door of the cabinet and pulled out two empty solvent jars. She knocked on the back panel of the cabinet and noticed a hollow ring. Training a flashlight on the back of the cabinet, she and Clark both tried to find if the cabinet was hiding anything. As Clark pulled on small lever, the back panel swung aside to reveal the room behind. Tracey overcame her nervousness at the sight of the hidden lab. "Cool! I don't believe he actually hides all this!" The three of them walked through the doorway inside the cabinet into the small room beyond. Clark quickly booted the computer he found while Lois started paging through the file cabinet. Tracey was hesitant to touch anything. Lois, noticing this, tried to keep the girl calm. "Tracey, why don't you go get our files and sample for us from your lab, so we can take them when we leave. Besides, you should cover for us in case anybody comes while we're in here." "Oh, of course, that sounds like a good idea. I'll be back in, say, 15 minutes?" "Yeah, that should give us plenty of time to find anything we need." The room was quiet after she left. Only the sound of rustling papers and a clicking keyboard could be heard. "Jackpot!" Clark said quietly. He removed a blank floppy disk from his jacket pocket and began to quickly download the information. "Clark, what'd you find?" Lois whispered. "This is a log of all the samples Dr. Daniels has 'altered', what was done to them, and to whom they were sold." "Well, check this out. Here's a detailed technique on gene alteration to eliminate genetic abnormalities." Lois laid the notes out and began to photograph them. Neither of them heard the second hidden door to the room open. "Ahh, Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Or should I say Kent . . . Lane and Kent, if I'm not mistaken. I knew you two looked familiar. I suppose it's a good thing I've been monitoring Ms. Jenkins's comings and goings. Otherwise you two might have gone without a greeting party." Both Lois and Clark looked up guiltily from what they were doing. The doctor held a small but deadly handgun, and it was aimed directly at Lois. "Well, Doc, nobody has ever accused you of being stupid. Tasteless, maybe, but stupid, no." Clark looked at Lois, his eyes imploring her not to bait the scientist. "Oh, Mr. Kent, don't worry that I'll lose my temper. I certainly won't use this unless you force me to." Daniels looked back at Lois. "But I *will* use it if I have to, Ms. Lane," he said firmly. "You two are a small snag in my plan, true, but I've come too far to allow you to interfere. However, I'm a humane man. Oh, I'm going to kill you, don't get me wrong. I'd just much prefer your deaths to be quiet and peaceful, wouldn't you? Gunshots can be so painful, not to mention messy." "Well, Dr. Kevorkian, before our untimely demise, I was wondering if you could satisfy my curiosity on one thing." "What's that, Ms. Lane? Why was I stealing these embryos from these couples? Well, not all of them are stolen. But research like mine demands a lot of samples and this was a guaranteed free source. Besides, without my research, many of these couples wouldn't have been able to have normal children in the first place!" "Just what do you deem to be 'normal', Dr. Daniels?" Clark spat out accusingly. He also was slowly maneuvering himself between the gun and Lois. "That'll be far enough, Mr. Kent. I need an unobstructed view of your lovely wife. It really is too bad that you two decided to stake out this clinic tonight. This isn't the safest neighborhood, you know. A lot of bad people come for free treatment at Madison. Some of them might have seen you in your car and decided to rob you. Or maybe you just kept the car running, because it's so cold, and died of Carbon Monoxide poisoning." He indicated a small cylinder of gas next to him. "I don't think that they're going to die of either, Dr. Daniels." "Ah, Miss Jenkins. I was wondering if you'd join the party. Good -- you've saved me the trouble of tracking you down. I'm surprised you have the guts to face me directly. Perhaps you'd like to walk over to where your friends are standing." "I don't think so, Dr. Daniels. You see, I have all of your precious samples in this tray," she indicated a rather large box she was carrying, "and won't hesitate to destroy them all with this little acid pellet if you don't drop the gun." "Miss Jenkins, I think you misjudge the gravity of this situation. If you put down those samples, I may let you live. As it is, I certainly doubt that Dr. Crick will take your word in these things over mine, especially since you have been opening all these files that you're not supposed to have access to. I have computer records of you doing so." The doctor continued, taunting her. "And that egg that you sold on the black market? Not a smart thing to do, taking advantage of your position when you're not even fully qualified yet. Tsk, tsk, Tracey. What will the police think of that?" At Tracey's stunned look, the doctor laughed. "Oh, yes, Miss Jenkins, I've prepared all sorts of incriminating evidence, ready to be planted at a moment's notice. Just think of it as my insurance policy. I can ruin your career before it even starts." Tracey's eyes flashed. "You know, losing my career, maybe even going to jail -- it all might even be worth it, if it means I can put a stop to work like yours." "Work like mine?! I would expect you, as a future physician, to understand exactly why I'm doing this! Imagine, a world free of things like Tay Sachs and Downs Syndrome and Alcoholism and Obesity. The list goes on and on!" "Aren't you forgetting some other defects? Like freckled skin or maybe brown eyes?" Tracey spat out. "You think you're so clever. You think I'm no better than a Nazi?!" Dr. Daniels rose to his full height, mingling indignation and scorn into one withering glare. Lois took advantage of his distraction to step a fraction sideways. The muzzle of the gun failed to track her progress, and, emboldened, she began inching around the perimeter of the computer desk towards the doctor, who was continuing his diatribe unabated. "Ignorant girl! I'm not suggesting that we wipe out genetic differences, just abnormalities. I will be hailed by future generations as the man who helped humanity become a race of Supermen!" "Somehow, I don't think so!" Clark disagreed sharply, pulling the doctor's attention further away from Lois. She quickly crossed the remaining distance, coming up behind Dr. Daniels. Her first kick sent his gun arm abruptly upwards. He tightened his finger reflexively on the trigger, but too late -- the bullet crashed harmlessly into the ceiling, sending a shower of plaster through the air. The deafening roar startled the scientist, who was unused to firearms. That loosened his grip, and Lois's subsequent blow to his shoulder jarred the gun free, sending it skittering across the lab floor. By that time, Clark had advanced on the doctor from the front, and grabbed him securely by the arm. "You don't understand!" Dr. Daniels fumed. He tried twisting out of Clark's grip, but with no success. Lois smirked at him. "You can explain it all to the police." "Is it over?" Tracey poked her head out from behind a lab bench. Seeing that the excitement had died down, she straightened up and held out the fallen gun. "I grabbed this so he couldn't get it back -- Lois, can you take this? I'm feeling a little . . . shaky." As she was handing over the gun, a noise at the entrance made them all turn. They saw a security guard standing in the concealed entrance, looking very suspicious. "What's all this? Dr. Daniels, are you okay?" "Jeb, thank heavens you've come," Dr. Daniels began suavely. "Don't listen to him, Jeb," Tracey begged. "He's been performing illegal experiments in here; I mean, why else would the room be secret?" "She's the one who's been breaking the law, young man," the doctor insisted. "And these are her accomplices -- look, they've pulled a gun on me!" Lois shook her head, amazed by the man's gall. "Look, I'm Lois Lane, and this is Clark Kent. We're with the Daily Planet." She could see that Jeb, while no doubt a worthwhile fellow, was not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. She sighed. "And we'll be very happy to wait right here until the police arrive to sort everything out, okay?" The beleaugered young man looked around the disarray in the room, weighed the two stories he'd been told . . . and decided that he should definitely turn this problem over to higher authorities. "Alright, nobody move. I'm calling the cops." He busied himself with his radio, and kept a watchful eye on them all. Dr. Daniels sagged in Clark's grip. "If you must. May I sit down in the meantime? I'm not as young as I once was." Clark released his grip, looking slightly abashed, and the doctor seated himself on the floor of the lab, suddenly looking much older. As if speaking to himself, he said slowly, "At least my research will live on. And in the right hands, it will do exactly what I've planned." "Not if I have anything to say about it," Tracey refuted stoutly. Clark cocked his head, with a sudden abstracted expression, then reached down behind Dr. Daniels. The carbon monoxide cylinder had been opened, and was quietly hissing the gas into the room. With a disgusted expression, he closed the valve. "I wouldn't count on martyrdom too quickly, Dr. Daniels. It takes a lot more carbon monoxide than that to even give someone a headache." The doctor glared up at him, at them all, then shook his head. "Someday, the world will understand." "Maybe someday, when we understand ourselves better, work like yours will have a place." Clark allowed, thoughtfully. "But right now, while people still hate others simply for the reason of skin color, letting a small group of people decide what comprises a 'genetic defect' is dangerous." "And by the look of your bank account, Dr. Daniels, " Lois interjected, "I don't think your motives are completely altruistic, either." At that moment, the police arrived, and Lois and Clark turned their energies to explaining the night's activities. ********** A few hours later, when the authorities were done questioning them, Tracey, Lois, and Clark were allowed to go. Clark went to phone in the rest of the story while Lois went to find Tracey. "Tracey?" Lois called to the girl as she was about to return to her own lab. "Yeah?" "Clark and I want to thank you for all your help. You were very brave in there." She smiled. "You really think so? Thanks! I'm just so glad everything worked out so quickly. I hope that he hadn't done too much damage before he got caught." "Well, it'll be up to the authorities to notify all the parents and donors of exactly what he was doing." "Yeah. I'm just glad it's over. I'll be glad to go back to my normal hectic life without having to look over my shoulder." They smiled and shook hands. "Oh, by the way, here are the results to your tests. I realize it was all just a cover, but if you ever do have troubles, well, here's one thing you can rule out." "Rule out?" Lois asked, surprised. "Yeah. Mr. Kent's sample was completely healthy and normal. The count is good, the hamster ova responded well, and the enzyme assay came back positive -- fully within the normal guidelines. Here's the paperwork -- and the sample was completely destroyed, just like you asked." Lois looked at the papers, dumbfounded, then shook her head. "Thanks, again, Tracey. You're gonna be a terrific doctor." ********** As they walked into the house, Lois was still trying to make sense of what Tracey had told her. She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice the looks Clark kept shooting her way. He kept quiet until they hung up their coats and moved into the living room. "OK, out with it." Lois looked up in surprise. "Huh?" "Come on, Lois, what's wrong? You obviously have something on your mind. You've barely said two words since we left the clinic." Lois smiled, perplexed. "Well, the thing is . . . I'm not sure what's wrong. Or maybe I should say, I'm not sure what's right. Here, let me show you something." She pulled the sheets Tracey had given her from her bag and handed them to her husband. "These are your test results, Clark. I got them from Tracey when you were on the phone with the Planet." Clark glanced quickly at the papers, then stopped in his tracks and looked them over much more meticulously. Lois watched as his expression changed from curiosity to confusion, mirroring her own. "See what I mean? I don't know what to make of it." "I don't understand, Lois. It's positive. Exactly where Dr. Klein showed me the deficiency, there's a spike on this graph. I- I can't believe it." Lois tried to reign in her building excitement. "So, it's really the same test? Tracey said the tests were normal, but I wasn't sure they were the same ones that Dr. Klein ran." "It's the same test, all right. Here's the enzyme that was missing from my other samples!" They stared at each other in amazement, then restudied the papers. "But how could this be? Yesterday you were sterile and today you're not? That doesn't make any sense, Clark! I mean, I'm sure Tracey knows what she's doing, but I trust Dr. Klein, too." Her eyes widened as she thought of something new. "Clark . . ." she started, a smile growing on her lips, "any chance this has something to do with that cycle thing?? Oh, I wish there was a way we could re-test the sample we gave to the clinic to see if they did it right!" Clark looked up from the papers, grinning like a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He threw the papers on the side table and quickly scooped Lois up in his arms. "Clark?!" she shrieked in surprise, her voice full of laughter. "What are you doing?" He started up the stairs with a delighted grin on his face. "I don't know about you, honey, but I, for one, am thoroughly sick of all this testing. I say we stop *thinking* and start *doing*." To demonstrate his point, he captured her mouth and gave her a deep kiss. "Oh, Mr. Kent," Lois purred as they reached the top of the stairs, "I do like your style." ********** THE END Beppo cyyi@musica.mcgill.ca ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* LnC Season 5: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm text only: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/s5text.htm ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:49:21 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Bsg2351 Organization: AOL (http://www.aol.com) Subject: Re: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 3 of 4) Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Hi, there. Where's part 1? ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 17:19:34 -0600 Reply-To: peabody@mcs.net Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pat Organization: Amarna House Subject: Re: to those with "@mcs.com" in their address... MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi Debby, Thank you for your efforts to get the N-fic out to us! I got your e-mail on Sunday afternoon. I forwarded a copy of it to the postmaster at mcs, asking if they might be able to help us resolve the problem. The message that you sent to AOL earlier this week got through also. I'll let you know what I hear back from MCS. They usually pretty prompt in responding, but not always terribly helpful (well, at least they're polite ;) Haven't heard any more from the accountant who *insisted* that Teri's baby was born last week. In fact, he didn't show up for the company's Halloween party (unusual in itself; free food, especially at lunchtime, can draw even pretty unsociable types into the festivities) I think he realizes that he's lost credibility with most of us; either that, or he's left on a fact-finding mission to Hollywood, to get first-hand information about the alleged Baby Hatcher. Hope you had a fun Halloween, and that the cats are enjoying the fall weather. Pat you wrote: > > I'm having trouble with nfic people on my N-list who have an address with > "@mcs.com" in it (including Joyce). This happens continually. I don't know > if it is "mcs" or my provider or what. > > If you get this message through this venue, please let me know and I'll ask > my provider if it is having trouble. If you don't get this message... well, > never mind :) (unless you're getting it *and* it's bouncing anyhow...) > > Debby > Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 18:52:36 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Alyssa Mondelli Organization: Brought to you by the legal firm of Deceive, Inveigle, & Obfuscate Subject: S5 difficulties, redux Comments: To: loiscla@vm.ege.edu.tr MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Yes, *again*. All together now: The episode is all ready to upload (sans one .jpg, which seems to have been misplaced) but Fortune City's server is down. If they don't get the one here in the States fixed soon, I may have to move S5 to a new ISP, so cross your fingers. In the meantime, Episode 5, "In Vitro Veritas", has been distributed to the fanfic list and (I assume) to the newsgroup. I'll let you know when it's available on the webpage ==Alyssa in St. Paul== (agmondelli@stthomas.edu)(AlyssaM on the IRC) http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/index.htm Increasingly frustrated web-hostess, Lois & Clark Season 5 ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 18:51:28 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: Writing tips #42: the use of analogies... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 08:24 AM 11/2/97 -0500, Laurie S wrote: >Debby.....you just made my day! I'm pleased :) >...I know what's good and what's not and those analogies were >not....I mean they were great for a laugh but did someone actually use them >in a story? Sheese! I think these were made up for a contest perhaps (there is a contest for the worst opening sentence of a bad story, and contests to see who can sound the most like Hemingway or other famous writers), but at times paid, professional actually do write things like that... :) >Thanks for making my day brighter..... So, with that happy result, at 10:57am it's sunny and 57 degrees and I think I'll go out and take a walk :) Debby Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 18:51:32 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--1 of 20! Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 08:32 AM 11/2/97 -0500, L wrote: >oh, i see part 1 has arrived. if you say 39 parts, why does this say 1 of 20? > >--L (wondering when AOL will bother to deliver the rest) I've only put on the first part. When I originally cut it up for email, it averaged maybe... 22K per part and 20 parts. If these parts are too big, I can cut them in half, thus making 39 more parts (and clearly an adjustment in that "x of 20" bit). I know things are a bit slow on this list, but I don't want to overwhelm anyone with humongous files when I'd rather overwhelm you with writing style and ideas :) So, if more of this story is desired, I'd like to know how you all would like it, i.e., big bits or small bits :) ... or just let you ftp it from my site :) Debby Debby@swcp.com who probably won't do any reediting of it after all... ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark Stories ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 19:57:42 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: to those with "@mcs.com" in their address... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 05:19 PM 11/2/97 -0600, Pat wrote to me personally but in hitting "reply" it came through the FFList... >Hi Debby, >Thank you for your efforts to get the N-fic out to us! I got your e-mail >on Sunday afternoon. I forwarded a copy of it to the postmaster at mcs, >asking if they might be able to help us resolve the problem. The message >that you sent to AOL earlier this week got through also. I'll keep trying :) I don't like bounces that clearly aren't the subscriber's fault, and I particularly worry when one of the bouncees is Joyce Fitch... :@ >I'll let you know what I hear back from MCS. They usually pretty prompt >in responding, but not always terribly helpful (well, at least they're >polite ;) Thanks! if any mcs person is receiving this but hasn't received any nfic messages from me in the last week (and, of course, if you're a subscriber), write to me... especially if you have an alternative address :) - Debby@swcp.com >Haven't heard any more from the accountant who *insisted* that Teri's >baby was born last week. In fact, he didn't show up for the company's >Halloween party (unusual in itself; free food, especially at lunchtime, >can draw even pretty unsociable types into the festivities) I think he >realizes that he's lost credibility with most of us; either that, or >he's left on a fact-finding mission to Hollywood, to get first-hand >information about the alleged Baby Hatcher. For those who wonder, this was an IRC topic :) one of those rare occasions we actually talked about something even vaguely L&C related on #loiscla. Personally, I think Teri's doing it (having the baby on her own schedule, not ours) on purpose ;) >Hope you had a fun Halloween, and that the cats are enjoying the fall >weather. "Little" is sitting to my immediate left washing his paws and in the process bobbing up and down in front of the monitor. All *totally* innocently, of course :) Thanks for everyone's patience! Debby :) Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 22:46:03 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: B Pike Subject: Re: to those with "@mcs.com" in their address... I've just recently subscribed to the list, so could someone please explain what the 'N' in N-fic stands for? Thanks Brian On Sun, 2 Nov 1997 19:57:42 -0700 Debby Stark writes: >At 05:19 PM 11/2/97 -0600, Pat wrote to me personally but in hitting >"reply" >it came through the FFList... > >>Hi Debby, > >>Thank you for your efforts to get the N-fic out to us! I got your >e-mail >>on Sunday afternoon. I forwarded a copy of it to the postmaster at >mcs, >>asking if they might be able to help us resolve the problem. The >message >>that you sent to AOL earlier this week got through also. > >I'll keep trying :) I don't like bounces that clearly aren't the >subscriber's >fault, and I particularly worry when one of the bouncees is Joyce >Fitch... :@ > >>I'll let you know what I hear back from MCS. They usually pretty >prompt >>in responding, but not always terribly helpful (well, at least >they're >>polite ;) > >Thanks! if any mcs person is receiving this but hasn't received any >nfic >messages >from me in the last week (and, of course, if you're a subscriber), >write to >me... >especially if you have an alternative address :) - Debby@swcp.com > >>Haven't heard any more from the accountant who *insisted* that Teri's >>baby was born last week. In fact, he didn't show up for the >company's >>Halloween party (unusual in itself; free food, especially at >lunchtime, >>can draw even pretty unsociable types into the festivities) I think >he >>realizes that he's lost credibility with most of us; either that, or >>he's left on a fact-finding mission to Hollywood, to get first-hand >>information about the alleged Baby Hatcher. > >For those who wonder, this was an IRC topic :) one of those rare >occasions >we actually talked about something even vaguely L&C related on >#loiscla. > >Personally, I think Teri's doing it (having the baby on her own >schedule, >not ours) on purpose ;) > >>Hope you had a fun Halloween, and that the cats are enjoying the fall >>weather. > >"Little" is sitting to my immediate left washing his paws and in the >process >bobbing up and down in front of the monitor. All *totally* innocently, >of >course :) > >Thanks for everyone's patience! > >Debby :) >Debby@swcp.com > ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 22:02:11 -0600 Reply-To: peabody@mcs.net Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pat Organization: Amarna House Subject: oops! MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Sorry FoLCs, I accidentally sent my post on e-mail problems with MCS out to the entire list, when it should have gone to Debby Stark only. As Halloween weekend errors go, I doubt it caused the fallout the "War of the Worlds" broadcast did, but all the same, I'm sorry to waste your time and bandwidth! Pat ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 23:09:16 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: definition In-Reply-To: <19971102.224736.10799.2.bvpike@juno.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 10:46 PM -0500 11/2/97, B Pike wrote: >I've just recently subscribed to the list, so could someone please >explain what the 'N' in N-fic stands for? Thanks > >Brian Nfic (or Nfanfic) is adult fanfic. I believe the "N" stands for "Naughty". These stories are not available through the Fanfic Archive or this Fanfic Listserv, eachj of which sets a limit of PG-13. Nfic is usually rated R or NC-17. Kathy (who once again will take the opportunity to remind new posters [or not so new posters] to *please* not copy the entire post you are replying to. Adding 2 lines to a many line post is unnecessary and against our rules.) ______________________ Kathy Brown kbrown@toolcity.net KathyB on IRC ______________________ ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 05:47:52 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Debby Stark (by way of Debby Stark )" Subject: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" [due to overwhelming response... well, one--thanks, LS!, I submit...] [btw: this was all finalized in April of 1997] Swap-Meet: Burbank part 2 of 20 by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com The laughter died down and the shoot resumed. As the door closed again, it occurred to Dean that anyone watching him could see that he had broken out in a grin despite himself. This lasted until he heard something crash outside and, following on that, several people cursing. He wondered if another of the small spot lights had fallen; he'd heard there had been a near disaster on Monday when Props had been in here cleaning up the fake marinara sauce. He'd heard maintenance men blaming the excessive rain they'd had lately. A Warner exec had been looking over the four L&C sound stages just yesterday, but he hadn't heard her say anything. They were pretty careful about what they said anyhow. She had stopped to gaze at him up in the harness and he'd had to fake enjoying it. Maybe they were going to put some money into upgrades since the show was committed to a fifth season now. Up? he thought. I wish they'd upgrade me to virtual reality so I wouldn't have to fly... He sighed at himself for dwelling on that again and licked his lips--and then pulled his tongue back in quickly, reminding himself that Clark Kent didn't do that unless he was under stress and he was under no stress whatsoever now since Lois had forgiven him for her being duped under the cover of feminism by the wily Praline Princess. The air felt full of electricity. "Action! This is the Real Thing, people..." The elevator door opened and Dean glided down the steps much as he had ten minutes earlier, knowing he was just almost *smokin'* as he snuck up on Teri, who was typing away madly again. "I can *hear* you..." she sang. "I can't pull one over on you, sugar," he smiled, having decided this time to let it flow as part of the sentence, as though Clark had been saying it for ages. The Director didn't contradict the delivery method. Justin "the Emmy Winner" Whalin threw up his hands in surrender to the inevitable, muttered "Oh, boy," grabbed a stack of folders and made a big production of getting out of the way and out of the scene. Teri turned a little more this time, and gave him a loving smile. This further indicated her having forgiven Clark for "siding with the men" in his support of Pasta Pirate; after all, he'd been wrong--and just as gullible as she was in her support of the Praline Princess. Where did they get such awful villain names? But the little kids in the audience would love it. "Oh, you're so sweet, lover." She almost breathed it this time. "Candy jokes, ha-ha, just what we need..." He rested his hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her, and began to lean forward suggestively. "I've gotta million of 'em, my big cheese..." she claimed. The camera eased in closer. "Pasta jokes now?" He smiled. "Honey?" "You or chocolate," she whispered but the strategically placed mikes hovering overhead would pick it up just fine, "must I choose?" "Yes." She chose, taking control and grabbing his tie, which he himself had remembered to leave loose. "Because of you," she continued tersely, "I was almost a hundred and five pound box of--" "The best candy *I've* ever tasted," he finished. Then he leaned further forward to kiss her upper lip, an action that the cameras would translate into the real thing--what did they call it on the List? Tonsil hockey? Absolutely! A light somewhere blew out, he could hear it. Someone cursed but the Director didn't yell cut. The air seemed more than electric suddenly and it wasn't due to cucumber oil lotion this time. The earth moved. *** An Alternate Burbank Warner Brothers Studio Day One, Morning Approximately 8:10 (Continued) Clark Kent was of the opinion that one of the most wonderful things about being married was the teasing that lead up to locking lips with his wife. The locking lips was wonderful, too, and, if they were in the right place and had the time, what that could turn into was even more than wonderful. Hey, he could face it, everything about being married was as wonderful as he had dreamed, except the occasional argument, but even Mom and Dad had them from time to time, so that meant things were normal, he was living a normal life, and that was wonderful, too. However, the teasing and the locking was all they had time to do now. Lois was right, they had to attend Perry's meeting so the Chief could give them more details about the next assignment he wanted them to tackle. The outline hadn't sounded interesting yesterday afternoon and a night to sleep on it hadn't helped Clark to come up with any exciting possibilities. But their editor was in such a mercurial mood, what with his nervous, tentative reunion with Alice, that arguing with him would be tantamount to committing professional suicide and being late without a good excuse could merit some unpleasant verbal abuse. So stealing the kiss here and now was all the more delicious. Tension did that, he found, as long as it was good tension. Seeing Lois tied to Kryptonite-coated railroad tracks (or her seeing him in such a situation), for example, was not good tension. That kind of thing still happened just often enough for Clark to feel he had to seek out every opportunity and make these daring moves. Also, despite her protestations, he was sure his doing this kind of thing turned Lois on, or at least it helped her feel better, which was even more important. Her kiss tingled. He liked that about being married, too, each kiss felt different and exciting. A male voice he couldn't identify shouted "Cut and wrap! Another good one! That's it for you two, go home, enjoy your holiday, see you... no, I won't see you, who is it Tuesday? Do I know him? Her? *Her?* Where's my hat?" Something was wrong. Clark retreated mentally to being immediately aware of his own body, perhaps due to the tingle of Lois's kiss wearing off. The taste of... spearmint? was rapidly disappearing from his mouth. Of all things to next be aware of, his clothing felt strange. His jacket seemed to fit tighter across his shoulders while his long-sleeved shirt fit loosely--ohmigosh, *the suit was gone!* He felt like he was settling into something, and then, in an instant, the "settle" was done and wrapped up. It seemed to pat him on the back and say "Here you are!" Otherwise, one-tenth of a second into thinking there was something wrong and barring these external oddities, he did not feel different. He flexed the muscles across his shoulders and they felt exactly like they should. Then he levitated one-quarter inch from the floor with no difficulty whatsoever. He had been holding Lois, easing her back over the conference table. It was a move that would go no further, a tease that she'd grasp quickly. She'd wind up punching his shoulder and giving him a dirty look that would probably turn into a grin despite herself, proving she did feel better after all. Now he was leaning over her, *not* holding her. His hands were on the padded arms of a chair. He was definitely kissing her and she was still reciprocating, except the kiss was off target. Why am I kissing her upper lip? he wondered. Not that it wasn't... interesting, but it wasn't as exciting, either. The word "kinky" came to mind, but he doubted this fell into that as- yet rarely explored territory. Lois smelled different than she had a moment earlier. Cucumbers? Where was the hint of warm tropical rose perfume they had bought during that afternoon fling in Tangier last month? His superior hearing reported in next. The junior conference room's teak-paneled walls should have muted the sounds of the newsroom. But there was no rusty sound from the copy machine as it tossed out faded, uneven copies; no one grumbling about the mid-morning coffee and the only donuts left being unglazed blueberry cake; and no one yelling at Jimmy about pictures that hadn't been delivered yet, and Jimmy not yelling back that it wasn't his fault this time but the new guy's, that he, Jimmy, had more important things to do these days. Instead, in this first three-quarters of a second spent surveying his surroundings, he heard the sounds of movement, like equipment being pushed about, and people walking around where he stood over Lois. They were apparently ignoring what he and Lois were doing--a good thing. Perry had asked them twice now to cut out the lovey- dovey stuff in the newsroom proper, which included simply gazing appreciatively at each other while pausing between crafting Kerth-calibre paragraphs. It was distracting to the staff who had better things to do with their time than moon over their spouses, who had no *idea* of the problems *some* people in *charge* of the whole shebang were having just trying to *survive,* so Lois and Clark better think twice before indulging in such gawl-derned silliness again! Yeah, Alice problems, Clark and Lois had agreed. They'd also agreed not to press the issue until Perry's life was more settled. Yet here they were, pressing it. Clark opened his eyes. His glasses had changed. They were lighter weight and plastic, he could tell that immediately. He preferred glass because it looked more real, more human somehow, and they reminded him of his bucolic childhood even though it meant having to look over them from time to time if he needed to see x-ray or heat something. Through these ones now he could see Lois's right ear. She was wearing what he thought were different earrings, little spot things, emeralds maybe. Her hair looked somewhat different, too, but it could have been the unexpected angle, unless he had simply failed to notice earlier how she was wearing it today. He tried to keep up with her fashionable apparel and hair styles so he wouldn't sound like a normal, clueless husband who didn't care about such things. It was true that he didn't care that much, but he felt he should try since she still had trouble accepting the fact that he thought she looked great in and out of just about everything. In a glance beyond her ear and hair, he saw her desk. It was not cluttered with the notes, phone books, scraps of papers with doodles, and barely hidden candy wrappers he had noted when he had invited her to speak it him in the conference room. The desk had a simple half-desk-sized calendar pad, a newspaper opened to a generic page 4, and a stenopad with short-hand-like scribbles on the top page. Lois's personal version of shorthand looked nothing like that. This had to be a joke, and a bad one at that. Then he had it. This was one of Kyle Griffin's pranks! ...except the fellow was securely locked up in New Troy Penitentiary. Just the other day Clark had read a report of the villain having fended off the advances of two large, hungry felons. They had retaliated by destroying something he was working on secretly and the authorities had confiscated the remains of it. No pranks for him for a while. Tempus? No, he was still in high security, too, though the wing for the reality challenged. Clark and Lois made it a point to check his condition every day if they could. Lois had sources who confirmed that Tempus hated watching television and had turned his nose up at the simple personal computers offered to the inmates as training tools. It looked like the nearest he wanted to get to technology was pipecleaners, construction paper and white paste. He was making no friends, either: most of the more stable-minded prison population was busy dealing drugs or getting GEDs and had no time for the snarling self-proclaimed time traveler who promised to tell Superman's secrets to anyone who would help him escape. He was being roundly ignored. Which left no explanation at all for what Clark had sensed in the last four seconds. He pulled an inch way from Lois, licked his lips briefly, and decided he better try to prepare her. He whispered, "Act your *heart* out." "Hmm...?" she murmured, as she often did when she had decided to enjoy the moment as much as he wanted to. He should have expected this, he told himself, but at least it further confirmed that she was feeling better and in the mood to listen. "Pretend we're *exactly* where we should be." As he straightened and watched her open her eyes, he recalled all the times she had taken on a different persona, either after a few minutes' careful thought or on the spot by force of misadventure. She was a good actress, particularly under pressure, he felt confident about that. This was, of course, assuming that this woman was indeed Lois, and the tight red dress she wore--he could have sworn she been wearing navy blue--did make him wonder. Then again, he had a different suit on, one he'd never seen before and by the looks of it a new one, one more expensive than he would normally have indulged in, particularly in light of their big mortgage eating the big hole in their tight monthly budget. But this woman... *felt* like Lois, and he had to pin his hopes on it *being* her as well, for if it wasn't her, he knew he was in even bigger trouble. He was of two minds suddenly: he didn't want her to be at any risk. After all, it seemed likely the perpetrator of this scheme was observing them even now and might take advantage of his confusion to attack her. But Clark didn't want to meet this perplexing situation alone, either, not when there was always the grim chance that the experience might prove to be the last one he ever had. Whatever was happening, he was not about to start running around in circles screaming his head off even if it sounded like a marvelous idea at the moment. The room, a somehow inadequate word for the overall immense space, was decorated to look like the Daily Planet newsroom. "Decorated" did describe it: the area did not have a lived-in, used or even real appearance. It was things like old, mismatched chairs and desks, and stacks of the LA Times (of all newspapers!) in corners. On unused desks there were heaps of papers that had nothing to do with newsroom business ("flea spray Lois's apartment" and dated a year earlier, what did that mean?). Family snapshots were spread out over Jimmy's desk when Jimmy had no family. Lois's plant dead when she had been trying a sure-fire, nearly impossible to kill philodendron. At Clark's enlarged first glance this all looked solid and yet because this was clearly not a newsroom, let alone *his* newsroom, it was insubstantial, a set up, just adequate enough to pass a cursory inspection, and all inundated by strong lighting from several different angles. Then, off to his right where it was darker, was what looked for all the world like a hulking big television camera. It was being rolled backward to join more equipment, furnishings, a half dozen people, and other totally unfamiliar sights. This might be a good time, a little voice told him, to reconsider your decision not to high tail it to the North Pole for a dizzyingly good scream... I haven't ruled out that idea entirely, he replied--then shoved the voice away, certain that it was the warped advice of his own conscious and not some new villain with a bug in his ear. He did not recognize any of the people milling around the camera or moving quickly to get out of its way or otherwise rushing here and there carrying papers and looking busy. They didn't seem to be watching him or Lois, either. That small thing was comforting somehow. There were echoing clicks as some of the lights began to dim. Lois's foot touched his ankle, by accident, he thought, because when he immediately looked back down at her she was blinking as though waking, but his kisses sometimes had that effect on her. Things appeared to come into focus for her and her eyes widened as she looked at him. "Your glasses...!" she mouthed out. It was her! He nodded slightly, not daring to say anything to influence her estimation of the situation, which unfortunately had to mean not grabbing her up to hug her, either. She returned the nod, her beautiful brown eyes (made up too much, weren't they?) full of a similar physical desire but more so a look of "If something is wrong, don't worry, *I'll* figure it out." *We* will, he almost said but didn't because it usually helped if she thought she was in charge. She sat back carefully and she began to look around--then sat up again, clearly in restrained shock. He noticed her clutch the arms of the chair, her knuckles white. Possibly thinking to restart with something a little easier, she aimed her face downward. She looked from her right to her left slowly, no doubt at the strange red dress and jewelry. That wasn't her watch and those weren't the rings he had given her--he realized suddenly that his own rings were missing, simply gone. *That* was distressing... Lois raised her head a little, frowning at the scuffed up, blue- and black-squared tile floor. Rehalia would be very upset; when she tackled the newsroom with her mop she frequently muttered in Ecuadorenyo-accented Spanish, "*My* clean newsroom, *my* clean newspaper!" A few seconds later, Lois unobtrusively scanned the room at eye level. She was good at hiding this maneuver; he wouldn't have suspected it had he not known her. Next her gaze traveled up his body, taking in this new suit. She glanced at his face, her thoughts about all this unclear to him, and then she looked up past him and squinted. Up, oh, of course, he hadn't looked *up* yet. He did so. The high, fluorescent-bulb-fixture and acoustic-tile-covered ceiling of the newsroom they knew was now replaced by a jungle of bright, focused lights of all sizes (only a few of them on now), metal catwalks, ropes, booms and pulleys, curtains of some kind that were painted with cityscapes (Chicago? San Francisco?), entire false walls and corners that looked a little like parts of the newsroom but they were now hanging up out of the way, and a distant ceiling and walls padded with what couldn't be mattress, could it? She touched his ankle for real this time. He looked back down at her, and there was a question in her eyes now: Do *you* know...? He gave her what he hoped she would understand as a barely panic-contained "I'm a little lost, too..." look. "Tempus," she whispered, as much a statement as a question. Well, if she thought so, the man might have visited from some future and broken himself out, this morning maybe, and now he was (would be? might have been?) attacking them by putting them here, wherever or whenever this was, and confusing them terribly... Except his modus operandi was to use complicated machinery he barely understood *and* to let them (usually Lois) know he was in charge of their fates again so that he could gloat all the more. She might have picked up some clues this morning--but she would have warned him immediately, cutting off his suggestion of the visit to the board room. Besides, this didn't feel like a Tempus trick. "But no," she muttered. He noted it was noisy enough around here they could almost have talked in normal voices and not been heard. "This doesn't feel like him." Her conclusion was both good and not good. Clark didn't want it to be Tempus because that man was so clever. On the other hand, Lois needed someone to blame; it usually helped to calm her. A calm Lois was a thinking Lois, the best thing they had going for them. Clark supposed he could suggest Baron Sunday, but several months earlier they had heard from reliable sources that the man had been killed in an ambush in Belize. Not that a little thing like death would stop him, but manipulating two minds at once from beyond the grave was probably beyond even Sunday's abilities from what Clark had studied of voodoo since that encounter. Whoever was to blame, once Lois got her mitts on him, and she clearly needed someone to grab and yell at, they'd both feel better and get to the bottom of this in no time. He hoped. Her target would probably not turn out to be the young woman in her early 20s who they spotted seconds later heading for them among the seething mass of people inhabiting this... this, well, funny, but it did look a lot like sound stage. Clark had been in several at various times following story leads or visiting friends. But why a sound stage? The young woman carried a clipboard and wore knee-length purple shorts and a T-shirt decorated with an array of cartoon figures playing basketball with a big Black man. The words "Space Jam" were emblazoned across her bosom and the shirt moved provocatively as she walked. Clark tried not to notice. Perry certainly would have; he disapproved of such attire and would have advised her gently not to dress this way in the office. He would do so only once. If she repeated the performance, she'd be transferred, period, all shook up and singing the jailhouse rock. (continued) ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 06:48:25 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: oops! Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 10:02 PM 11/2/97 -0600, you wrote: >Sorry FoLCs, > >I accidentally sent my post on e-mail problems with MCS out to >the entire list, when it should have gone to Debby Stark only. >As Halloween weekend errors go, I doubt it caused the fallout the >"War of the Worlds" broadcast did, but all the same, I'm sorry to >waste your time and bandwidth! > >Pat When I hit "reply" to this list, it goes to the person who sent the message, not to the list... I don't know why. However, to keep you up on this tangential subject, I sent a query about this problem to postmaster@mcs.com... maybe I should have sent it to "net"? and it bounced... I wonder if *that's* the problem "com" has changed to "net" now...Hmmm... I'll test this :) Debby Debby@swcp.com life is one surprise after another... fortunately! ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 06:50:27 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: oops! part deux Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" changing mcs.com to mcs.net didn't work, either :( I'm asking my provider about this :) Debby thinking all this would make a great fanfic somehow... ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 11:13:32 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Carrie Benes Subject: Re: definition of N-fic In-Reply-To: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII > Nfic (or Nfanfic) is adult fanfic. I believe the "N" stands for "Naughty". > These stories are not available through the Fanfic Archive or this Fanfic > Listserv, each of which sets a limit of PG-13. > Kathy Right-o, so how do those of us that qualify get hold of them? Carrie Carrie Benes cbenes@fas.harvard.edu Lois: "He's not Superman." Clark: "A passing resemblance maybe." Lois: "It's a thing he does at parties." ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 07:50:30 +1100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Stosser Subject: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) In-Reply-To: <2.2.16.19971103065417.22e7d8fa@swcp.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 06:48 AM 03/11/97 -0700, Debby Stark wrote: >When I hit "reply" to this list, it goes to the person who sent the message, >not to the list... I don't know why. However, to keep you up on this tangential >subject, I sent a query about this problem to postmaster@mcs.com... maybe I >should >have sent it to "net"? and it bounced... I wonder if *that's* the problem "com" >has changed to "net" now...Hmmm... > >I'll test this :) > >Debby Just so you know: net *is* different from com. Generally Com means a commercial provider, org means a non-profit organisation, edu means an educational institution, and net means a network. (I think there are others but that's all that comes to mind as I write this.) There are standards by which the extensions are chosen for any provider. For example, in the US, you have AOL.com, which is America On-Line (a commercial provider); AOL is opening for business in Australia sometime in the next year or so (even *they* don't know when!), but someone else got in there first with AOL.com.au (funnily enough, a place called Australia On-Line), so AOL (the American one) has had to use AOL.net.au instead. So switching from sending mail to mcs.net instead of mcs.com will only help mail go through if you want to send mail to someone at mcs.net; it won't reach the people at mcs.com... (I guess the closest analogy works only in a city like Melbourne with really weird street naming rules... for example, there's this one road which depending on which suburb you're in is either Inkerman Street or Inkerman Road, and the numbering starts again with no warning of the street name change, so if you are trying to find 656 Inkerman St, and you're at the Road end of the street you'll get truly lost. That suburb is a particularly bad one.... there's another single road with two names: Balaclava Rd and Carlisle St, and if you're in the wrong suburb, you're *stuffed*! (Then there's the Nepean Highway, which is made up of at least a half-dozen street names, most of which aren't used these days... so when my mother, an old Melburnian visited me a few years ago, she was using the old names, and I had NO idea of what she was talking about! ) -- Jenny Stosser -*- jenerate@ozramp.net.au -*- (Jenerator or MoiAussie on IRC) This message is umop ap!sdn -*- David is 5 and Megan is 2! Photos on the Stosser Family HomePage: http://www.ozramp.net.au/~jenerate Please Visit! ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 15:16:38 -0600 Reply-To: renate@mcs.com Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Rhen Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hey, Jen, How've you been? Jenny Stosser wrote: > Just so you know: net *is* different from com. > So switching from sending mail to mcs.net instead of mcs.com > will only help mail go through if you want to send mail to > someone at mcs.net; it won't reach the people at mcs.com... Well, it doesn't make any difference when it comes to MCS ... both .net and .com work (or don't as the case may be ...) Mail addressed either way (usually) reaches me - except on Sunday mornings when MCS does maintenance and stuff can get lost as it did this past Sunday ... > (I guess the closest analogy works only in a city like > Melbourne with > really weird street naming rules... Well, here in the States it can get just as ... hmmm ... amusing ... 16th Avenue could be a mile away from 16th Street. If all you've been told is turn when you get to 16th, you're out of luck! I recently got lost because no one told me that Manheim Road is actually LaGrange Road further along ... (Hello Joyce! ;) So you're not alone in needing a road map every time you go out and about. Rhen ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 17:58:16 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Margaret Brignell Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 05:47 AM 03/11/97 -0700, you wrote: >[due to overwhelming response... well, one--thanks, LS!, I submit...] >[btw: this was all finalized in April of 1997] > >Swap-Meet: Burbank part 2 of 20 >by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com So does this mean I should be keeping up my end of the story by posting the mirror half from Metropolis one bite-size piece at a time? (Judging by my recent lack of success in sending the 16 parts out to people, maybe I should) Margaret ****************************** Margaret Brignell brignell@capitalnet.com Ottawa, Canada %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% My fanfic now available at: http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/ ****************************** ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 03:02:39 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Leanne Shawler Subject: FANFIC: Rex Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Hi all! At last I get my hard drive back ... and here's the first of what's been sitting there between writing S5 fic and waiting for edits and waiting for a hard drive that could be accessed again. This is a silly little short short. Rex by Leanne Shawler (volterra@sd.znet.com) The dog growled between his teeth, tugging sharply at the cuff of Clark's trousers. Patiently, Clark bent down and tried to pry teeth from trousers without doing damage to either animal or cloth. The dog knew by now that biting Clark was more painful for the dog rather than the human. Lois entered from the kitchen and Clark paused in his untangling. "Lois, this new dog of yours doesn't like me." "Clark, if you keep calling it 'dog' of course it won't like you." Lois bent over and slapped her knees. "C'mon Rex, c'me over here." Rex let go and bounded over to Lois, knocking her over and lathering her with huge doggy licks. Lois laughed, fending off the canine and making a game out of it. "See, Clark? Treat him right and he's just fine!" "You better let him out the back then, because my clothing bill is beginning to sky-rocket." "Clark, are you afraid of a dog?" Clark shook his head. "No, but my wallet is. Come on, Lois. We're going to be late." The dog looked over his shoulder, glaring at Clark, until Lois led him out of sight and into the backyard. He sat, scratching behind his ear. "Maybe if I rolled in kryptonite dust," Lex Rex dreamed, "then I could get him!" THE END Leanne Shawler aka Volterra on IRC volterra@sd.znet.com http://www.znet.com/~volterra/leanne.html *********************************************************************** Lois and Clark Season 5 Fanfic: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm *********************************************************************** Midnight Dreaming: The Original Anthony Warlow Home Page: http://www.zweb.com/volterra/anthony.html *********************************************************************** ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 03:06:39 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Leanne Shawler Subject: Re: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 3 of 4) In-Reply-To: <3c7d42ed.345d0344@aol.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" >Hi, there. Where's part 1? Someone from AOL wrote the above .... My answer? Patience, grasshopper it will come. Unless, like with one of our S5 editors, it doesn't show up at all. There are a number of S5 staff on AOL and all have complained about items out of sequence and long (days-long) delays in receiving mail, if at all. I suggest you direct your complaints to the AOL Postmaster. Leanne Leanne Shawler aka Volterra on IRC volterra@sd.znet.com http://www.znet.com/~volterra/leanne.html *********************************************************************** Lois and Clark Season 5 Fanfic: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm *********************************************************************** Midnight Dreaming: The Original Anthony Warlow Home Page: http://www.zweb.com/volterra/anthony.html *********************************************************************** ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 21:32:40 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Stefanie Slifer Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank Hi, Debby! Thanks alot for sending Burbank to me. I got all twenty "pieces"; and as far as I know, they're all complete (I haven't had a chance to read the fic yet), but I'll let you know if I need anything resent. Again, thanks! I'm looking forward to reading it. Hugs, Stefanie =) cute6@juno.com Clark: "Lois! Please! Get a grip, will you!?" Lois: "Mmm. Gladly!" ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 18:03:24 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: What Nfic is... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 10:46 PM 11/2/97 EST, you wrote: >I've just recently subscribed to the list, so could someone please >explain what the 'N' in N-fic stands for? Thanks > >Brian The "N" stands for "Naughty". It's X-rated, or sexually graphic fanfiction about L&C, occasionally with an A plot. An "A" plot is an "Action" plot (woman accuses Superman of having a one-night stand with her, resulting in a superson), while a "B" plot is the emotional plot (how Lois and Clark's interactions change, if they do, when they hear the woman's testimony and see her super son). If you are +17.99 years of age, or considered to be an adult in your country, and you understand the nature of the NFic list and would like to join, write me confirming all this and I'll put you on the list :) Debby Debby@swcp.com 5:29pm - wondering what my provider has discovered about mcs... you know, "ix.netcom.com" has done this once or twice, bounced everything back, but not for 2 weeks... :( ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 20:34:10 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: Re: FANFIC: Rex In-Reply-To: Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 3:02 AM -0800 11/4/97, Leanne Shawler wrote: >Rex >by Leanne Shawler (volterra@sd.znet.com) ROTFLMAO!!!! I love it!! Kathy ______________________ Kathy Brown kbrown@toolcity.net KathyB on IRC ______________________ ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 19:25:30 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 05:58 PM 11/3/97 -0500, Margaret B. wrote to the FFList: >So does this mean I should be keeping up my end of the story by posting the >mirror half from Metropolis one bite-size piece at a time? Hey, why not? >(Judging by my recent lack of success in sending the 16 parts out to >people, maybe I should) :D I have sent all 20 out to one person (actually, I think I sent 2 thru 19...) So I say... go for it :) The list is slow, *we* might as well liven it up! Debby Debby@swcp.com who did a double take and realized that this message had gone to the FF list, not to me personally... so, what the heck, I'll answer it the same way, too :) (I wasn't kidding about livening things up :) ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 19:25:40 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 07:50 AM 11/4/97 +1100, Jenny S wrote: [snip some interesting info] >So switching from sending mail to mcs.net instead of mcs.com will only help >mail go through if you want to send mail to someone at mcs.net; it won't >reach the people at mcs.com... The trouble was, they messages I'd been sending just fine for years practically started bouncing. They bounced even to the postmaster@... Then I noticed that one mcs person who also has an aol address had mcs.net rather than com and I wonder if it had changed without anyone knowing. So I tried that. And it still bounces... Through that aol friend I have a line on a person in mcs who will look into this. I haven't yet heard back from my provider. Yes, I think this could be some minor plot to a fanfic... "Lois?" "Yes, Clark?" "Where are you?" "I'm here talking to you on the phone, why?" "Ah... well... I sent you an, ah, *important* letter, to your email address... and it bounced!" "And you think it has a... cosmic significance?" or something silly like that :) >(I guess the closest analogy works only in a city like Melbourne with >really weird street naming rules... for example, there's this one road >which depending on which suburb you're in is either Inkerman Street or >Inkerman Road, and Here we have Northwest, Southwest, Northeast, Southeast, with the town divided by Central Avenue and the railroad tracks. Atlanta has a zillion streets named Peachtree something. More fanfic, eh? :) Debby Debby@swcp.com "Why is it this way? If I told you, I'd have to kill you..." ;) ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 13:34:41 +1100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Stosser Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) In-Reply-To: <2.2.16.19971103193130.24971292@swcp.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 07:25 PM 03/11/97 -0700, Debby wrote: > >[snip some interesting info] > >Here we have Northwest, Southwest, Northeast, Southeast, with the town >divided by Central Avenue and the railroad tracks. Atlanta has a zillion >streets named Peachtree something. More fanfic, eh? Living in the South-Eastern suburbs of Melbourne, in South Oakleigh (and no, as far as I know, there's no East, West or North Oakleigh), near Warrigal road that *doesn't* lead to Warragul, between North and Centre Roads (and just north of South Road) I think I know what you mean! -- Jenny Stosser -*- jenerate@ozramp.net.au -*- (Jenerator or MoiAussie on IRC) This message is umop ap!sdn -*- David is 5 and Megan is 2! Photos on the Stosser Family HomePage: http://www.ozramp.net.au/~jenerate Please Visit! ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 21:55:26 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Margaret Brignell Subject: SwapMeet: Metropolis Part 3 of 16 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Okay, Debby twisted my arm, so here goes No, you didn't miss parts 1 and 2. I posted them as the "promo" late last week. If you deleted it (by accident of course) just write and ask:) For the short of memory Part 2 ends with: She was about to ardently suggest that Clark get them home *now* so they could finish what they'd started, when she could have sworn she heard someone yell "Cut!" ********************* Metropolis, New Troy 10:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Thursday Daily Planet Newsroom Dean broke off the kiss slowly and straightened to a standing position as he opened his eyes. He felt a little disoriented and things seemed...different for some reason. Teri must have changed perfume from her normal cucumber oil while he was in the elevator because now she smelled of some exotic flower. Come to think of it, Teri was now wearing a blue dress when he could have sworn she had been wearing red, just a second ago! And for some reason *his* clothes seemed to have shrink-wrapped to his body. What the heck was going on here? He turned to speak to the AD only to find that for no apparent reason there were now walls surrounding Teri and himself and they were effectively cut off from the camera and crew. "Dean, the director hasn't said 'cut' yet," murmured Teri who was still in character, eyes closed, apparently enjoying the kiss. Although now, instead of sitting in a chair at the Lois Lane desk set she was in his arms, arched back over the table behind her. "The director's not here," Dean whispered back, then wondered why he was doing so. They were all alone here. He was getting more puzzled by the minute. "In fact, no-one's here except us. No camera, no lights, and this *looks* like the conference room set, but..." Teri opened her eyes, pulled away from him and looked around with an annoyed expression on her face. "Okay, what gives?" "I don't know. Things are kinda strange." It felt like someone had fitted him from neck to toe with a second skin that was oppressively warm. He put his hand to his tie to loosen it and looked down as he did so, only to see that it wasn't the eggplant tie he'd been wearing just a minute ago. Teri straightened her clothes and brushed past him, then stopped and looked down at herself. "Wait a minute--you're right! I'm not wearing the dress I was. This one's way too big for me! On the other hand, this does look like the conference room set. But, how'd we get in here?" "I have no idea..." Dean walked over to the window and parted the Venetian blinds to peer through them. "It's the Daily Planet set out there. Hey, I bet it's a practical joke! Yeah, that's it, you know how weird they can get!" He grinned. He'd played his share on the others so he figured they were trying to get even. "The guys from set design must have created this room and dropped it around us during the kiss to get even with me for that last one I pulled on them." "But, Dean, we're not wearing the same clothes. How could they change *them* in the last two minutes?" "Well, er..." Dean shrugged and sighed. "I give up. How would *you* do it?" Teri walked over next to him, peered between the slats in the blinds, and letting them snap shut, she frowned as if puzzled by what she saw. She stood, stroking her hand over the door frame, and then rapped on it with her knuckles, looking even further perplexed as she did so. "This seems too much like real wood for it to be just a slapped together set." Teri pulled the slats apart again. "Not to mention I don't see anyone out there laughing their heads off at us either." Dean peered over her shoulder through the opening in the blinds she'd created. "Actually, there isn't anyone out there I can recognize, except Justin and Lane." Dean tried to see more of the set, but the range of view available through the slats of the blinds was limited. He didn't want the jokers out there to see how curious he was anyhow, so he couldn't shift the blinds around or he'd give himself away. He'd rather face them openly. "Let's go out and get the laughing over with. I want to change out of these clothes and into something more comfortable anyway." Just then the door burst open and through it rushed Justin. He was wearing two cameras around his neck. One had a telephoto lens and the other wide-angle, giving Dean the impression the cameras were ready for action at any moment. Justin was definitely playing his role to the hilt. "CK! I *told* you not to be late! You two had better get into the meeting right now! Perry's madder than you know what because this is the third meeting in a row you've been late for! Come on, or I'll be in trouble, too!" Dean opened his mouth to ask what was *really* going on but Teri, standing beside the now open door, spoke first. "Justin? What's going on here? Where are the TV cameras and the rest of the cast? If this is supposed to be a joke, it's not funny." The young man stared at her as if she'd grown two heads. "Gosh..." He sidled over to Dean leaning against the table, where he'd moved in order to get out of the way of the door when it burst open, and whispered, "CK, is Lois having memory problems again?" "Ah..." "When Perry hears this he's going to be *really* upset!" Then, just as the young man was about to dash out through the door again, he stopped and turned to face Teri. Laying his hand on her arm, he gently said, "Lois, I'm Jimmy. I know you may not remember but that's okay, if you forget again, I'll just keep telling you until you remember on your own, okay?" Teri gaped at him and nodded, speechless as she watched him rush out the door. She peered around the door frame after he'd left and then turned to look at Dean who shrugged. Within seconds, Lane, doing what Dean thought was his best ever imitation of "Perry", barged into the room yelling at the top of his lungs. "What in the ever loving name of Elvis is going on here? Jimmy here says that you," he pointed at Teri, "claim to be having memory problems again. Is this some new kind of excuse for cuddling in the boardroom? Well, galdarnit, I want these shenanigans to stop!" He frowned at both of them. "You hear me? Right now!" Once again Teri beat Dean to the question. "Lane? What's with the practical joke? I'm really not in the mood for these antics. You *know* Jon's away and can't come back for the holidays! Why are you doing this?" Dean put his hand on Teri's shoulder to give her his support. Lane must be exhausted to the point of thinking he *was* Perry. His role in the pasta pirate episode *had* been much more demanding than usual. "Er...I think we're *all* tired. It's been a long week." Teri picked up on his line, "Yes, I'm exhausted. Why are you doing this?" The blustering man stopped mid-tirade and his whole tone changed. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were so stressed by the prison riots yesterday. I was going to tell you in the meeting how much Mr. Stern admired how you negotiated the hostage release. I'm proud of you too!" He continued after seeing the blank look on Teri's face. "But, I guess, the stress must have been too much for you." Dean saw tears in the corners of Lane's eyes as the big man pulled Teri to him in a big bear hug. "I'm Perry, honey. Remember me? We go back a long way." Dean felt strangely moved. This man must love Lois very much to react this way--wait a minute, what was he thinking? They were all playing parts in a TV show, Lois Lane wasn't a real person and neither was Perry White. Why was everyone acting as if something real were happening here? And there hadn't been any prison riots recently on the news. He'd have known if there had been since he tried, whenever possible, to keep up on news items as a source of potential ideas for his stories. Dean saw the young man who said he was "Jimmy" looking in on the scene of the three of them, through the door into the conference room. "Jimmy" had an anxious look on his face. Behind him there were phones ringing and fax machines burping, and Dean could feel a rumbling under his feet. He'd visited a newsroom when the show first aired to gain some perspective on a real newsroom and the rumble he felt now he could have sworn was being made by distant printing presses, if he didn't know any better. He wasn't sure how the guys in FX had done it but these had to be *really* special special effects. He shook his head to rid himself of the suspicion that was now trying to get to the front of his brain and returned his attention to the action between the two other people in the conference room. Teri was nodding in response to "Perry's" comment. Dean felt compelled to get himself and Teri somewhere else where they could figure out what was going on, without all this mounting confusion. Also, he was having the most disquieting feeling that maybe this was all for real and he needed level-headed Teri to talk him out of it. Perhaps if he pretended all this was real, the jokers, if they were jokers, would let this joke go...and if it wasn't a joke--well, he'd deal with that later. "It's been a long week, L...er...Chief, we're both tired. I think I had better take 'Lois' home. We hate to miss your meeting, but I'm sure you understand." "Sure, Kent. You two leave now. I gave you tomorrow off to visit with your parents anyway, so what's a few more hours? Remember, Lois? I gave you tomorrow off to visit with Clark's parents." He spoke slowly and clearly as if he were talking to a very simple child. "Martha and Jonathan, real nice people. I'm sure you'll remember them when you see them." Dean held back a grin as he saw Teri strain to keep from losing her temper at this blatant attempt to spin the joke out. She did it though. She was always in control as an actress. Concentrating on his role as "Clark", he took Teri by the elbow and led her out of the conference room. Looking around at what actually appeared to be an honest-to-goodness newsroom, he spotted the elevators, and, exuding distressed and solicitous concern for "Lois", guided her in that direction. As they passed a desk which had a Lois Lane name plate, Teri stopped, holding him back, obviously surprised at the change in its appearance from just a few minutes ago. The desk was covered in notes, phone pads, and scraps of paper with either shorthand or doodles on them. Some candy bar wrappers peeked out from under all the clutter. The crew *never* dressed a set, especially a desk, to this detail. "Dean," she whispered, "if this is a joke, then why is *everything* different? *No-one* could make the set this different in just minutes." Keeping his voice low, Dean replied, "I don't know. That's why I want to get us out of here before anyone notices we're different, too. Come on!" "Just a second. If this isn't a joke, then Lois is real, and she must have notes or something that could help us get things back to the way they were." Dean felt his stomach clench at Teri's theory that maybe this wasn't a joke after all. He looked around and saw people staring in their direction. So for their benefit, he tried to maintain his concerned demeanor as "Lois" rooted around the drawers of the desk, finally finding what she wanted in the bottom left-hand drawer. She pulled out what had to be Lois' purse, and picked up a briefcase with the initials LL on the retractable handle. Teri then turned to him, "Clark could have notes or something too! Let's find his desk." Teri grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in the direction of the nearest desk with an unoccupied chair. ****************************** Margaret Brignell brignell@capitalnet.com Ottawa, Canada %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% My fanfic now available at: http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/ ****************************** ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 3 Nov 1997 18:06:56 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Stefanie Slifer Subject: Whoops! Why when I get to thinking that something will never happen to me, it does? In this case it was sending a "personal" E-mail to the entire list. I'm sooo sorry! I'll now take my red-with-emmbarrasment cheeks and go watch Superman. Hugs, Stefanie =) cute6@juno.com Clark: "Lois! Please! Get a grip, will you!?" Lois: "Mmm. Gladly!" ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 08:25:34 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) In a message dated 97-11-04 04:07:16 EST, jenerate@OZRAMP.NET.AU writes: << Living in the South-Eastern suburbs of Melbourne, in South Oakleigh (and no, as far as I know, there's no East, West or North Oakleigh), near >> Like in New Jersey where there's a New Brunswick (and for you trivia buffs, New Brunswick, Canada was named for this), North Brunswick, East Brunswick, and South Brunswick. However the geographic relationships are NOT clear! They are all south of New Brunswick and I believe East Brunswick is south of North Brunswick... --Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 13:04:38 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Mercedes Galvez-Arango Subject: Re: Announcement... ta-da! MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT thanks for the text. i prefer text version anyways--that way i can save it and print it if i want to. i like printing the one or two page stories i get through this service. mercedes mgalvez@dhvx20.csudh.edu ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 13:13:35 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Mercedes Galvez-Arango Subject: Re: FANFIC: Rex MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT that was a great short!! mercedes ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 13:48:35 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Mercedes Galvez-Arango Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT i accidentily deleted part 3. also that's the last part i have recieved so far.could someone please send me a new copy?--or should i go to season 5 website and upload/download? thanks. mercedes mgalvez@dhvx20.csudh.edu ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 14:28:34 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Mercedes Galvez-Arango Subject: Re: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 1 of 4) MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT this subject is actually in regards to SEASON 5 . i'm having trouble getting to the website. what happened to it? when will it be back again? what's its new website? nfortunately i deleted all previous information about the website. PLEASE HELP. mercedes mgalvez@dhvx20.csudh.edu ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 11:04:27 +1100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Stosser Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) In-Reply-To: <971104082500_425771152@mrin44.mail.aol.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 08:25 AM 04/11/97 -0500, you wrote: >In a message dated 97-11-04 04:07:16 EST, jenerate@OZRAMP.NET.AU writes: > ><< Living in the South-Eastern suburbs of Melbourne, in South Oakleigh (and > no, as far as I know, there's no East, West or North Oakleigh), near >> > >Like in New Jersey where there's a New Brunswick (and for you trivia buffs, >New Brunswick, Canada was named for this), North Brunswick, East Brunswick, >and South Brunswick. However the geographic relationships are NOT clear! They >are all south of New Brunswick and I believe East Brunswick is south of North >Brunswick... > >--Laurie > My sister lives in Brunswick West here in Melbourne. Oh, and shortly after I moved here, I was visiting a friend who was chatting with someone else who said,"what's the quickest way to Heidelberg?" and I said "by plane." I didn't know then that Heidelberg was also a suburb of Melbourne. -- Jenny Stosser -*- jenerate@ozramp.net.au -*- (Jenerator or MoiAussie on IRC) This message is umop ap!sdn -*- David is 5 and Megan is 2! Photos on the Stosser Family HomePage: http://www.ozramp.net.au/~jenerate Please Visit! ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 18:47:45 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 01:48 PM 11/4/97 -0800, Mercedes wrote: >i accidentily deleted part 3. also that's the last part i have recieved so far.could someone please send me a new copy?--or should i go to season 5 website and upload/download? thanks. I haven't sent part three yet of "Burbank" (though I think Margaret sent part 3 of Metropolis); I plan to send it (barring uprising) on Wednesday morning :) Debby Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 17:51:01 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Leanne Shawler Subject: Re: S5 - Episode 4: In Vitro Veritas (part 1 of 4) In-Reply-To: <01IPM5HQQQ760008XY@DHVX20.CSUDH.EDU> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" >this subject is actually in regards to SEASON 5 . i'm having trouble >getting to the website. what happened to it? when will it be back again? >what's its new website? nfortunately i deleted all previous information >about the website. >PLEASE HELP. > >mercedes >mgalvez@dhvx20.csudh.edu Never fear! Our website host -- fortunecity -- has this inexplicable habit of being inaccessible at times -- however, don't fret! The site is still there (I'm looking at it now). Think of it as a .... hmmm, temporary roadblock on the internet highway ... Glad you liked my short too, btw. In short (*grin*) -- keep trying! (or try again in an hour or two!) Leanne Leanne Shawler aka Volterra on IRC volterra@sd.znet.com http://www.znet.com/~volterra/leanne.html *********************************************************************** Lois and Clark Season 5 Fanfic: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm *********************************************************************** Midnight Dreaming: The Original Anthony Warlow Home Page: http://www.zweb.com/volterra/anthony.html *********************************************************************** ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 20:02:20 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: .net vs .com (was: Re: oops!) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 11:04 AM 11/5/97 +1100, Jenny wrote: >My sister lives in Brunswick West here in Melbourne. >Oh, and shortly after I moved here, I was visiting a friend who was >chatting with someone else who said,"what's the quickest way to >Heidelberg?" and I said "by plane." I didn't know then that Heidelberg >was also a suburb of Melbourne. Fanfic plot: Superman wonders if he's loosing his marbles when world-renown cities begin moving to unexpected places around the globe in the episode "It's a Mxyed Up World". Debby Debby@swcp.com ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997 23:36:55 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pam Jernigan Subject: Re: S5/combo posts Comments: To: Blind.Copy.Receiver@compuserve.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 >> this subject is actually in regards to SEASON 5 . i'm having trouble getting to the website. what happened to it? when will it be ba= ck again? what's its new website? nfortunately i deleted all previous information about the website. << Mercedes, you can get to the Season 5 website at = http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm or, if you're having trouble reading the text over the background on = that site (it depends on which browser you use), you can try: = http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/s5text.htm Also, just as a protocol comment... I really think that instead of sendin= g out four separate, one-line posts, you should have combined all your comments into one message. This list isn't overcrowded yet, but this kin= d of stuff is still mildly annoying. Thanks! PJ ^^^^ !^NavFont02F02B2000FMGJHGC4MGC6HIB36397 E-mail from: Pam Jernigan, 04-Nov-1997 jernigan@compuserve.com / ChiefPam on the IRC ~~~~~ Unreformed, unrepentent, sometimes unproductive but never uninteresting fanfic writer = Visit Sarah & Pam's Shrine o'Fanfic at: http://www.geocities.com/hollywood/2501 ~~~~~ Lois and Clark Season 5 Fanfic: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/mothership/60/season5.htm ~~~~~ "The first thing she said to me was 'Herbie, get me to the Planet.' Naturally, I wondered which planet..." "Ah, Constable, you've returned. Upon reflection, I imagine this pleases= me." <-- Due South is back! :-) ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 04:06:14 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Peace Everett Subject: Re: Swap-Meet: Burbank--2 of 20 In a message dated 97-11-04 16:51:04 EST, you write: > i accidentily deleted part 3. also that's the last part i have recieved so > far.could someone please send me a new copy?--or should i go to season 5 > website and upload/download? thanks. Ah.... no. Swapmeet, while a delightful pair of stories, is not part of Season 5 (you know how it is, you ask actors to play double roles, they demand double salaries... ;) But if you want the whole scoop on this right away (as opposed to bits at a time), get to Debby's ftp site and download them -- ftp://ftp.swcp.com:/pub/users/dstark Peace who thinks Debby and Margaret should collaborate again.... and again... and again... ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 05:30:09 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Swap-Meet: Burbank part 3 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Swap-Meet: Burbank part 3 of 20 by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com [note: originally "finished" on 2/20/97; reread on 11/04/97 and a few words changed here and there + minor punctuation changes - Debby, who reminds you that some things are spelled "wrong" on purpose :)] Apparently unaware of this possibility, she came right up without hesitation, stopped, and held out her hand to Clark, as though expecting him to give her something. Ah, "Hi," he said and smiled. Lois had recently informed him that his smile was "disarming." He didn't need a gun or a pit bull as long as he pulled out that friendly grin of his. She was trying to get his goat, he'd thought, but she had looked sincere. After all, they had been approaching that interview with the notorious Duchess of Mondellini. Lois had elbowed him at what she thought was the right time, he'd tried a "disarming smile," and, by gosh, *some*thing had encouraged the aloof woman to warm up... He hadn't known what to do with this bit of personal information other than be overconscious about it for a while. He'd eventually decided to try to forget it--but now it seemed like the perfect weapon. The young woman grinned in return and snapped gum. "Glasses?" "Huh?" "Well, I know we goofed up about them, but since we're wrapping up the shoot and you don't need them and since you're not supposed to have them unless you *do* need them... I'll take them." "Ah..." "And I'll take really good care of them, believe me." He glanced at Lois. Lois shrugged microscopically: it was up to him, though she was ready to run with him if he decided to do that instead. If it came to it, she could scream more piercingly than he could, too, though he could race circles around her as well as keep her warm at the North Pole. The young woman added, "I even have this." She held up a glasses case. That did sort of clinch her argument. He noticed that the young woman had a name tag ID (neither he nor Lois had one). "Ah, well, Dory, I trust you with them..." for she certainly looked sincere and sounded as though her proposal was no less than natural and reasonable. He reached up and began to take them off with care. Even though they weren't his (he felt no attachment to them), they were still cover. He glanced at Lois again; she was watching but unable to offer help. Well, she could have provided a distraction, like shouting and pointing into the distance--she'd spotted an escaped felon!--but then what? He wanted even less for any attention to be directed at her. He took the glasses completely off. The world did not stop. No one stumbled to a screeching halt, clutched at their hearts or pointed at him and gasped "You're...!" Top reporters from the Metropolis Star didn't jump out from behind the fake walls and flash pictures; women didn't faint *or* lunge at him; and babies didn't gurgle knowingly. No one seemed to notice at all. This was... good. He folded them carefully and handed them over. Dory stuck them in their case, chirped "Thanks!" and bounced away. Lois stood up now and stretched, but to him it looked more like she was trying to adjust the dress; it did look a little tight. She checked her nails, okayed them, ruffled both her hands through her hair (which looked like her normal hair) and then folded her arms under her breasts (those looked normal, too), as though trying to decide what to do next as she glanced around casually. She said in a quiet, almost indifferent manner, "Just where are we, anyhow?" "I think we're in a sound stage at a place called Warner Brothers Studios." "I've heard of them," she frowned. "A little outfit in..." "Southern California." "Southern... California." She raised her right hand as though to scratch her cheek but actually hide behind as she said, "I think I'm going to scream." "Oh, good. You know how I hate to scream alone..." She glanced at him and narrowed her eyes to keep from smiling despite herself, as though she didn't appreciate any attempt to lighten things up. He wondered about that; he hadn't meant it to sound amusing. Then she happened to notice her fingers and her eyes widened a bit. "Makeup?" Huh? She had been in hurry this morning and, what with the headache attack, she hadn't put on much at all. Anyway, she only "got all dolled up," as she occasionally put it, when she was after the interview of a lifetime, or about twice a month. She touched her face again. "I'm wearing a *ton* of makeup!" "Shh..." "Don't 'shh' me," she told him in her most secret hiss, "*You're* wearing almost as much as I am!" "Huh?" He began to reach for his face but she touched his wrist en route, stopping him. "Don't worry, you look fine. Really." "How *can* I look 'fine'?!" She tried to sound comforting; she almost pulled it off. "I don't know, but it works. Shh..." Makeup? Good grief... his face did feel a little... stiff maybe, and there seemed to be something in oily his hair, too. What next? "You know what?" she said, her attitude returning to casually bored, "I think we should get out of here, fast." Admittedly that was a great "what next" and better to think about than superficial appearances. "I think you're right." "We just need to find a door. How about you looking around for one?" "Okay, should be easy," particularly without his glasses. He began to x-ray discretely, but it was no easy task after all because it meant looking through people without seeing anything he shouldn't but figuring out when to stop to see the right things. "Cla... ah, turn around. A lot of people seem to be moving off that way." He pulled back his vision in time to see Lois nodding. He turned a bit and saw an opening in the walls between an elevator landing and ramp up to it and a bookshelf-lined wall with a staircase up to a door that said "Morgue." "There's a breeze coming from that direction," he muttered to her, "I can just feel it." "Open air, good. Let's go for it--ohmigosh, it's..." Perry walked through that opening! He was here, this was great! No, wait, it wasn't great, not quite, in case Clark needed to use his hidden talents, which, sans glasses (the bulk of his disguise sometimes), wouldn't remain hidden for long from their sharp-eyed editor. Before this became a bigger worry, that Dory woman stopped Perry a good twenty paces away. They chatted briefly. Clark listened in and breathed a tentative sigh of relief. "It's not Perry, it's someone named Lane. His last name may be Smith--" "Well, *that's* obviously fake. What he's up to?" "Maybe nothing. She called him 'Lane,' and 'Lane Smith' is on her call sheet, that's what she's showing him." "Call what?" "It's sort of a list of actors and sets and props used for scenes in tv shows and movies." "At Warner Brothers." "Looks like. She's telling him when he's expected to be back here. Tuesday." "And today is...?" "I don't know. Friday maybe? People are talking about the weekend like they're wrapping up here." "Okay, Friday, that's good," she said calmly. "Smith is an actor, everyone here but us is actors. Okay. That makes sense." "It does?" "This is an elaborate trick to get us to crack, so of course it make sense. Do you see *us* in any form on that call sheet?" Dory and Smith parted, each going in different directions, neither toward Lois and Clark or in the direction the two were planning to go. "No," Clark almost pursed his lips. "I didn't think to look and now she's moving too fast." "I have the feeling we'll find out soon enough, but for now, let's *go*." They made it just through the opening, where they noted that the backdrop of the "newsroom" was made of plywood and wooden beams. Clark noted that the main walls of the building really were lined with what looked like mattresses and there were even more signs of this being a sound stage. Electronic and carpentry equipment, cables, and, high above and easier to see now, were those giant curtains that looked like giant, flexible slides of San Francisco at night and Chicago by day. Both would have been visible through the big window back on the set of the newsroom, over the array of world time clocks and the stairs up to the Morgue. Clark had to admit that both cities did rather resemble Metropolis, but wouldn't it have been easier to take pictures of the real thing since someone was already going to the trouble of faking it here? And faking people they knew, for here another startling sight almost stopped them in their tracks. It was someone who looked incredibly like Jimmy Olsen. This "Jimmy," though, didn't have the two cameras around his neck that he had this morning, reflecting his recent desire to get every assignment possible. He was desperate to earn extra money to fix his motorcycle after he and it had been tied to the railroad tracks on the east end of Suicide Slum. Superman had saved him in the nick of time and the bike, too, but the villains had manhandled it, so it was out of commission at the moment. Their Jimmy also rarely wore that old plaid shirt anymore, either. Jimmy had to dress better so the Chief would agree to assign him to take pictures at important events, increasing the photographer's chances of getting published and being given bonuses. Clark doubted the change to wearing more business-like apparel would become a habit, but there was always hope. Lois and Clark glanced at each other and shook their heads simultaneously, agreeing it wasn't Jimmy, and not breaking stride for more than a few seconds. They were heading for a heavy door, the kind of door that typically led to a staircase or, with luck, outside and away from this place. Actually, they had their choices of doors, for there was a little room in the corner that Clark saw contained a water fountain and another door. The second door was outside, to the left and in line with the one in the little room. But for the little room (an air trap of some kind?), the doors were side by side. That didn't make sense, but nothing else did, either, despite Lois's assurances that the very senselessness of the situation made incredible sense for the simple purpose that it was meant to confuse them. It was working. A man wearing dusty blue jeans, a white shirt, a "WB" baseball cap and an ID that identified him as an employee opened the more direct door and entered. He almost ran into Lois. They both jumped back, and without a thought Clark stepped up behind her to offer support and protection. The man smiled at her, not noticing Clark's somewhat faster-than-human move probably because Lois was prettier to look at. The man immediately reached back and pushed the door open to the left. It was bright out there; it was "outside," good. The man said, "Sorry, Ms. Hatcher, I didn't see you." Lois blinked, nodded, smiled, and said, "Oh, that's all right." She looked back at Clark. "Are you coming? I need to show you something." "Sure." Clark smiled (but not disarmingly) at the employee and took over holding the door as they passed through it. Outside. The temperature, the amount of daylight, the partly cloudy sky and general awake attitude of the people they had observed led Clark to think it was morning, sometime between eight and nine maybe. The moist-smelling air (wasn't that unusual for Southern California? What time of year was it?) was cool and fresher than inside the.... He went down a short flight of steps, reached a asphalt-paved road, turned and looked up and back toward where they had been. He saw they were at the corner of a very wide, very tall, buff-colored building. It displayed a sign to his left, near the corner: Avenue C, 14C. There was another building beyond that looked virtually identical, and another beyond that, and similar buildings across the road and heading off in the opposite direction as well. Yep, he thought, sound stages. This Warner Brothers place was bigger than he had imagined. "Whoa..." Lois said as she walked out into the street, too, wobbling a bit in the high heels she wore (she preferred flats for work), turning carefully and looking around. She stepped back toward him as a golf cart-type vehicle carrying two men dressed in business suits slowed and then zipped round her after she moved. One of the men starred--no, leered at her, but they didn't stop. "Yeah, I think 'whoa' about describes it..." He noticed other passersby glancing at them in mild interest, so he said a bit louder, "You were going to show me something?" She also noticed the casually-dressed people, who were no doubt simply employees, and she whispered though they were now probably out of earshot, "I just said that because of what that man said. Did you hear him? 'Ms. Hatcher'? Ms? Does that tell you something?" "Other than they don't know who you really are..." "Whoever 'I' am supposed to be now, I'm not married, that's what it tells *me*." "Well, it could be the other person's stage name. At least it doesn't sound fake." "It's better than 'Smith,' true, If it turns out that whoever they think *you* are is married, we're getting you a quickie divorce if you aren't married to *me*." "Heh..." He didn't even want to think about that possibility. In an effort to return to the basic idea of escape, he chose a direction--to his left seemed safe for no particular reason-- and began to stroll that way. Not arguing, she walked along side him. He said, "What do you say we find a some place where I can take off from unnoticed and fly over this area to try to make some sense of it." "Somewhere *we* can take off from." "Yeah, sorry, we." There was no question, she had to go along. It wasn't like he could tackle one part of the mystery and her the other since they had no idea how big it was and what parts were tackle-able. "Besides," she admitted, "I don't want to let you out of my sight." He shook his head. "Me, neither." "And I don't mind bringing..." she couldn't say it here; she used their secret signal "...in on this case." "I agree, except I don't have the suit." She stopped. "What?" He stopped, too, facing her closely to whisper. "I put it on this morning, just like always, but I'm not wearing it now. One moment everything is normal and I'm kissing you, and the next moment everything has changed." She folded her arms under her breasts again, a typical move which he knew helped her to repress a cool shudder. Then she covered this with a quip: "I didn't think I was *that* good a kisser..." "You're the best, but even your kisses can't put makeup on me," he sighed, wishing he could find some water with which to scrub his face clean. "Or give us both new wardrobes." At this point Lois grimaced slightly. Though the red dress and brown sash were a bit tight, he thought they looked okay on her. "Who could possibly wear these clothes... and wasn't that the tie got chewed up by that Doberman on the Church's estate?" "*That* one was." The poor dog had gone after his hand next, but letting the animal gnaw on him for a minute or two had given Lois time to scramble over the wall since she had been in a snit that evening and hadn't wanted to leap over it with him. Fortunately, the dog had not broken any teeth in simply doing its duty. "So no suit and no..." "No appearances by yours truly unless I can find a substitute suit before we get home." "And if somehow we've misplaced home like everything else?" "I don't know, I just know Warner Brothers is in Southern California and they aren't a very big studio. Or weren't. This place..." he looked around again, "is big." "Well, it's not *that* big, nothing is, and wherever we are, we don't really need him." She loosened up a little, sniffing the challenge more distinctly. "We have *us*." He nodded, withholding another sigh. "Yep," though the two of them all alone suddenly didn't seem adequate. "Hey, guys, wait up!" When they turned back to glance at who was calling, that not-Jimmy person waved at them from the door of the soundstage holding the imitation Daily Planet newsroom. The imposter hopped down the steps and began striding toward them. "We should have walked faster," Lois muttered. That could have looked strange, Clark thought, and it could look stranger if they ignored whoever this was because he obviously knew whoever he thought them to be. Maybe the fellow could be distracted; Clark decided to try his secret weapon. "Hi!" "Hiya!" Not-Jimmy grinned, undaunted and friendly. Other than the clothing and the makeup and the well groomed, somewhat shorter hair, this fellow did look, and at the moment act, incredibly like Jimmy. As he approached, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, then, arriving and stopping, he immediately pulled a hand out to gesture with. He looked at Clark. "Hey, man, I'm sorry your folks couldn't make it back." He shrugged in sympathy, these things happen, and then he looked at Lois. "And what with John out of town, well..." But he brightened, "My mom told me to ask you to come over for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow and I think it's a *great* idea. She bakes the *best* turkeys, and she always fixes a really big one." He pulled his other hand out to indicate at least a twenty pounder. "And her stuffing...! *Out* of this world!" He looked at Clark. "You and I can watch football, and you," to Lois, "can... well, do whatever you want! Go shopping with Mom or something." He smiled eagerly and looked at them back and forth as though hoping for immediate acceptance. Not getting it continued quickly, "So consider yourselves invited, okay? *Both* of you!" He looked at Lois again, "After all, you need to, ah, bulk up for the aideswalk on Saturday, right? Though with these tight dresses you're wearing now, you already look bulkier." Lois's eyes widened. "I'll have you know *I'm* fit! It's these *clothes* that don't fit!" The young man blinked in surprise. "That's what I meant--you look *ready*!" Clark realized he better jump in quickly. He asked, "Aideswalk?" The young man nodded. "Yeah, you know about it." He looked at Lois. "You're still going, aren't you? *I* am. I don't get invited to many of those things." "Oh, *you* know," she elbowed Clark, "*that* aideswalk." "Ah, that one, yes. The one," he pointedly surveyed her, "you have to bulk up for." "Ha... I suppose I'm going--if my foot feels up to it..." "You hurt your foot?" The young man looked down at Lois's shapely ankles. She lifted her right foot slightly. "Just a strain, I can hardly feel it, ohh..." "I saw her wince a little," Clark said. He consider adding that she had strained it while chasing down and thrashing a bandit, but maybe Hatcher didn't do that kind of thing. "Oh, gosh... Do you think it will be all right by Saturday? I don't want to go alone--Hey, maybe you can crash the event, Dean! I'm *sure* I can get you in," he said proudly, apparently revelling in beating "Dean" out on something. "Yes, maybe..." Clark tried to smile along with the joke on Dean. So he was a "Dean" and today was Wednesday, in the morning some time--I'm wearing a watch, he realized, I should have checked that! (continued) ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 07:46:48 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: .Debby's fanfic plot... In a message dated 97-11-04 23:20:09 EST, debby@SWCP.COM writes: << Fanfic plot: Superman wonders if he's loosing his marbles when world-renown cities begin moving to unexpected places around the globe in the episode "It's a Mxyed Up World". >> Like Rome, New York? Or Southampton, New York (Long Island--hey we have a LOT of British names here as people liked naming areas for their homes), Hamburg, New Jersey? London, Ontario? Or how many "Middletown's" do you know of? --Laurie (who had heard of Heidelberg as a suburb of Melbourne) ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 14:59:33 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Erin Klingler Subject: Debby's fanfic idea Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Debby wrote: >Fanfic plot: Superman wonders if he's loosing his marbles when world-renown >cities begin moving to unexpected places around the globe in the episode >"It's a Mxyed Up World". What a fabulous idea!! Even the title is great! Of course, the author needs to make another great showdown between CK/Supes and Mxy. I've missed that little imp! :) Erin Klingler (ELK on IRC) ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 21:16:24 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Kathy Brown Subject: Mxy fanfic In-Reply-To: <3.0.3.32.19971105145933.006a54e0@srv.net> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 2:59 PM -0700 11/5/97, Erin Klingler wrote: >What a fabulous idea!! Even the title is great! Of course, the author >needs to make another great showdown between CK/Supes and Mxy. I've missed >that little imp! :) Ah, then you really need to read the latest TUFS episodes! Sheila Harper wrote a wonderful two-part episode featuring our beloved imp. The titles are "Mxysplit" and "All Mxyed Up", and you will love them. You (and anyone else) can get the stories off the TUFS website. There is a link to both TUFS and S5 on the Fanfic Archive gateway, so check it out. :) Kathy (a writer's editor ... I can't stop myself from plugging fic. ) ______________________ Kathy Brown kbrown@toolcity.net KathyB on IRC ______________________ ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 5 Nov 1997 22:54:21 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Margaret Brignell Subject: SwapMeet: Metropolis Part 4 of 16 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" [In an all out effort to keep pace with the mirror half sent out by Debby...here's the next installment of Metropolis] The desk had Clark Kent's name plate on the front right corner, the sight of which caused Dean to come to a sudden stop. Teri dropped her grasp on him and waited for him to search the desk. He rummaged through the files on the desk, but didn't find anything that seemed remotely relevant, just notes on a mayor's speech. If Teri and his stomach were right he'd better act like Clark leaving work. He couldn't find a briefcase to take with him, so he leaned over the desk to simulate turning off the computer before leaving for the day. He noticed the keyboard, unlike the one he usually used on the set, wasn't missing any keys. Not only that but the monitor was working. It was a *real* computer! More evidence that this whole weird thing might not be a practical joke? Unlike the kitchen appliances that really worked in the house set, props *never* gave them real computer equipment. He couldn't be thinking what he was thinking! This place couldn't possibly be *real*. Teri touched Dean's arm gently as if to ask what was holding him up. "It's a real computer, *all* the stuff is real!" After staring at the computer for a few seconds, Teri turned around to take in the surrounding decor. He followed her scrutiny of the room. What they were both seeing was an honest to goodness newsroom with lots of people running to unspecified destinations or yelling for "Copy" or chatting around the water-cooler. The desks were overflowing with work. There were no cameras, lights, booms, or any of the other usual paraphernalia associated with the production set anywhere. The ceiling had office style fluorescent light fixtures, not spot lights used for filming, and most convincing of all, acoustical tile! This wasn't a joke! Even the behind-the-scenes talent they had on the show couldn't produce *this* kind of detail! He swallowed, realizing that he was sweating from more than just wearing these tight clothes. "Dean!" Teri whispered urgently. "We're in the Daily Planet, the *real* Daily Planet. What are we going to do?" Dean muttered, "Shit! I don't know." Then he added, as he saw one of the people nearby turn and gape at them, "Let's get out of here and find some place to talk without people staring at us as if we were completely crazy." "Sounds like a good plan, any idea where?" Dean shrugged. "We'll think of something." In his experience things usually worked out for the best, after all look at his knee injury. That had seemed devastating at the time, but if he'd made it into football his knee would probably be permanently damaged by now and he wouldn't have had all the opportunities he'd had in the last three and a half years. This weird experience could work out too. Of course, it would. So he smiled and reiterated, "Don't worry, everything will work out just fine." "Yeah, right. It'll work out *just fine*, despite the fact that it looks suspiciously like we're in a real, live newspaper pit, maybe in a real, live newspaper building that could be in the middle of a real, live *city* bigger than New York! We know nothing about this city, where *they* live, or what kind of relationship they really have, so don't say 'Don't Worry'!" Teri's voice had risen to the point that more people's heads were turning in their direction. Dean knew that on the show this wouldn't amount to anything, but here, if this was really real, they could be doing serious damage to Lois' reputation. He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled apologetically at the staring crowd, "Come on, Lois, let me take you home now," he said in a clearly audible voice. Then, in a quieter tone he said, "Look, let's just assume it's all like the scripts for now. We've been doing this for three and a half years. We can wing it when things don't quite match. There's no point in losing our cool." Disregarding the crowd's reaction, Teri snatched up Lois' bags and glared at him. "That's your whole attitude to life isn't it, just take the lemons that come along and make lemonade!" She marched towards the elevators. Dean shrugged at the three or four people still staring at them and followed her. They'd had this conversation umpteen times before. What other attitude could you take? On the other hand, maybe she and Jon had had a fight and she was feeling a little edgy. Yeah, that must be it. As they stood waiting for the elevator, he tried to lighten her mood with a joke. "Well, a little sugar to sweeten the lemons now and then comes in handy..." Teri looked stone-faced. "Or maybe not. Is it really okay with you and Jon? I thought you guys were doing okay. Or..." She kicked at the potted palm adjacent to the elevators and glared at him. He paused, fearful of being next in line after the plant. "Sorry." Then her whole body seemed to slump dejectedly, "I just miss him, okay?...except for the time he was in the show last Spring, we've only seen each other for a maximum of three days in a row, maybe five times since January. We were *sure* he'd be home for Thanksgiving but.... I guess it's getting to be too much. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking it out on you..." She smiled, but had tears in her eyes..."or the plant either." He put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. It must be really rough trying to maintain a relationship long distance. He wondered, for a moment, if it was actually worse than having no relationship at all. As they took the elevator to the parking level, Dean became fascinated again by the idea of where he and Teri actually seemed to be. Despite the fact that the elevator looked *exactly* like the one on the set, this wasn't a prop with gaffers operating the doors. "Hey, cool! This elevator really works!" It was amazing how much things were like the show. He'd have to remember this for when they got back to Burbank. His mood was buoyant for a couple of floors. Then whatever he was wearing under this over-sized, just barely fashionable suit began to make him *really* feel uneasy. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie. Underneath he saw the Superman suit! "Dean! You weren't wearing the S shirt before!" "It's not just the shirt. I'm wearing a complete Superman outfit underneath these clothes!" "Boots, too?" "Ah..." "*And* the cape?" "It's hard to say, but it's *really* uncomfortable! I have to get out of it." The realization that he was wearing a *real* Superman suit unsettled him. He'd sometimes wondered if he could keep his real self separate from the superhero, but seeing the Suit and knowing that it was the whole suit was-- crazy. His hand trembled as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He wasn't wearing any makeup! Come to think of it neither was Teri, or at least she wasn't wearing set makeup. Not that she needed make-up, but it was another odd thing that only confirmed their suspicions. "Well, you can't just strip here." The elevator doors opened at the garage level, just as he finished buttoning up his shirt again. Three people were waiting to get on the elevator, so they had to stop talking. After he and Teri had exited the elevator, and the elevator doors had closed, Teri continued, "Besides, you don't want to give away Clark's secret to the people here. You'll have to wait until we're somewhere private before you can change." Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense. Dean felt hot and tired. If he had to wear this much longer, he'd go nuts. They found Lois' silver Jeep Cherokee in the same space it held in the garage set for the Planet building, only this wasn't a garage set but a real garage and a real Jeep which had a real licence plate fastened to the bumper, not locked inside on the back seat as it often was between uses on the set, that read New Troy across the bottom edge. He insisted he drive because it would help him ignore his discomfort and help him feel like he was more in control; besides he liked to drive and Teri had better navigational sense and could give directions. When he expressed these thoughts, Teri retorted, "What directions? We don't know where we're going!" Then after looking at him for a few seconds, she softened her tone, "Dean, are you okay? You're looking kind of flushed." "I..." Dean was having difficulty breathing. He wasn't sure but it felt like an asthma attack coming on. They'd have to get to a drug store because he didn't have his inhaler with him. It might not be asthma though, it could be the tight clothing, or this heat and humidity. Anyway, he'd better have some medication handy, just in case. "... We're going to have to find a drug store. I think my asthma is acting up." "Oh, no! I thought you only got that when you're in the north-east!" Teri looked startled as she realized the import of what she'd just said. "Isn't Metropolis supposed to be in the north-east? Dammit all, we should have looked in the Yellow Pages for a drug store while we were in the newsroom." "But, I wasn't feeling this way then," and he knew he couldn't afford to feel this way now. He sighed and tried to get on with the immediate dilemma. He fished in all his pockets checking for car keys. "Well, the ads often have maps which would have come in handy. How are we going to find a drug store now? And even if we do, what are we going to use for money?" Dean pulled out a wallet from the suit he was wearing. There was about forty dollars in it. He noticed a drivers licence. He spread the wallet open at the licence to show Teri, pointing at the address on it. Under the name Clark Kent it said 348 Hyperion Ave., West Metropolis. Teri pulled Lois' wallet out of her purse, knocking the car keys from their niche in the purse onto the garage floor. She picked up the keys and handed them to Dean who unlocked the passenger door. Flipping open the wallet she saw the driver's licence. Under the name Lois Lane Kent it also said 348 Hyperion Ave., West Metropolis. "I guess that answers the relationship question." Teri got into the car and leaned over to unlock the driver's door. Then, while Dean was getting behind the wheel, rifled through the car's storage spaces on the passenger side. "There's a map of Metropolis in the glove compartment." She pulled it out and quickly scanned the list of street names under H. Noting the grid number, she found Hyperion on the map. The next problem was finding where they were right now. >From another part of Clark's wallet Dean pulled out a business card with the Daily Planet's address on it. Finding it on the map Teri drew a finger line along the streets on the map from the Planet to "home," as he started the engine. Dean noted that Clark must have driven into work that morning since he didn't have to adjust the mirrors or driver's seat. He tried not to dwell on the idea that *he*, Dean Cain, was driving the same car that *Superman* had driven! ****************************** Margaret Brignell brignell@capitalnet.com Ottawa, Canada %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% My fanfic now available at: http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/ ****************************** ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 6 Nov 1997 05:44:18 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Re: .Debby's fanfic plot... Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 07:46 AM 11/5/97 -0500, Laurie wrote: >In a message dated 97-11-04 23:20:09 EST, debby@SWCP.COM writes: > ><< Fanfic plot: Superman wonders if he's loosing his marbles when >world-renown > cities begin moving to unexpected places around the globe in the episode > "It's a Mxyed Up World". >> > >Like Rome, New York? Or Southampton, New York (Long Island--hey we have a LOT >of British names here as people liked naming areas for their homes), Hamburg, >New Jersey? London, Ontario? Or how many "Middletown's" do you know of? Las Vegas, New Mexico. Ontario, California. Paris, Texas. We have a big old atlas at work but there was no "Smallville" listed. Debby :) Debby@swcp.com Maybe Lois could fine out what *really* happened to the extra "r" once in Albuquerque... ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 6 Nov 1997 05:46:15 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Swap-Meet: Burbank part 4 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Swap-Meet: Burbank part 4 of 20 by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com [note: originally "finished" on 2/20/97; reread on 11/05/97 and a few words changed here and there + minor punctuation changes, making this the *most* up-to-date version - Debby, who reminds you that some things are spelled "wrong" on purpose :)] He moved his left arm slightly and glanced down and through the sleeve of the tailored jacket to see the time piece. Like everything else, it wasn't his own and it looked expensive. 8:44, Wednesday morning the 27th. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. This was something to go on. Okay, let's say that "Dean" and "Ms. Hatcher" had Thursday and possibly Friday off work (which consisted of them being actors). Maybe this Jimmy-like fellow could be tricked into confirming it. Saturday, Ms. Hatcher was expected to participate in an aideswalk, or was that aides walking? Walking aides or assistants? Maybe aides was AIDES or even AYDS, an acronym for something local? Maybe a charity group, Actresses Yearning to/Innocently Distribut(e/ing) Engaging Smiles?. Whatever it was, Ms. Hatcher would be participating as planned because he and Lois would have resolved this problem fairly for everyone *long* before Saturday. Probably in an hour or two at the most. Oh, nice conclusion, Kent, but does having figured out "when" you are come anywhere close to offering a solution to the overall problem? Clark realized that he was in desperate need of a quiet corner and a few extra seconds to give the situation a little more hard thought, preferably with Lois's creative input. He started the delaying move by saying, "So, Thanksgiving dinner. That's a interesting idea. We'll consider it." "Yes, we'll get back to you on it," Lois chimed in, smiling again, covering better than he was. What an actress! "Great!" The young man returned the smile, then glanced past Lois and looked like he had spotted someone trying to sneak up on them. "Oh, there's Kay, and," confidentially, "I bet she'll ask you the same thing. She's a pretty good cook--but *I've* got first dibs on you two!" Kay? They turned and looked. Clark nearly dropped his jaw. *Mom*? But the didn't quite look like Mom once he recovered his wits half a second later and telescopic-looked at her. Whoever it was wore a cozy beige sweater, light blue slacks and a matching blouse. Mom's hair was a little grayer and she needed glasses because she was myopic, but this woman was a strawberry blond and she wasn't wearing any glasses. She was strolling in their direction. She waved, picked up her pace, and called, "I hoped I'd find you all here!" Just then a large flat-bed truck carrying a variety of potted plants rounded the far corner of the Building 14C and began bearing down on the woman. Clark nearly launched into a rush to grab her out of the way, but a slight brush of his sleeve, a hold-it message from Lois, made him hesitate. Apparently hearing the danger, Kay looked back and then stepped over to the side to let the truck pass. Her facial expression didn't change; maybe such traffic was commonplace. As the truck passed them, Clark checked on the driver. The man looked competent and appeared to be paying attention to surroundings as he slowed, approached the next sound studio, and pulled into a big, square opening there. No villainy here. Maybe a set was being decorated with the live plants. Interesting. But that woman... Clark looked back at her. Her cheerful manner, the bounce in her step, the twinkle in her eyes... she looked so much like Mom... "Did you finish up, too?" she asked as she came closer than shouting distance. "Yeah, just now," the young man replied. "Did Vincent get to chase you around the lab again or did they rewrite that like you hoped?" She rolled her eyes. "Oh, he got to chase me around the lab like mad again, but this time I got to bop Manicotti before my escape and Vincent applauded--*after* we cut, thank goodness!--I couldn't stand any more rehearsals or takes with that octopus!" She passed them, not stopping. "Of course, Eddie's still grappling with Tina and her angst!" She grinned about that. "But he wanted more to do! Come on, let's go to your trailers, it's too noisy out here. Besides, Vincent might decide he wants to 'talk' to me again, so I need a place to hide out, and someone big," she glanced at Clark and winked, "to defend me. The Pirate role has gone right to his head, but I may have distracted him by mentioning that Eugenie loves Italian food." Huh? Pirate? "Good thing he's not gay," now not-Jimmy winked at Clark. "Since you like Italian, too." Clark nodded, smiled a little, and shunted this bit of information about "Dean" off to a mental side street with all the other material that would surely coalesce to make sense eventually. "Trailers, good idea," Lois smiled at the woman's back. Trailers? Oh, of course. Actors on movie and TV sets had trailers to change and rest in. I need a rest, Clark thought. They headed back to the right (Clark couldn't determine compass directions yet) and then angled left, not-Mom talking about more of Vincent's antics, and she and not-Jimmy both laughing. They must have shared a scene together. They were actors, Lois was right, everyone here was actors. Nothing was real except this street out here and the world beyond, a world through which they had no idea how to navigate. There was way too much happening, too much detail for this to be just an elaborate trick, despite what Lois hoped. In a few moments a huddle of white trailers came into view. They were each about 25 feet long, they lined the sides of yet another sound stage, and they would provide a place in which to hide. Clark wondered if the doors would have their counterparts' names on them. Maybe "Dean" shared one with "Ms. Hatcher." Then hoped that the doors weren't locked and, chiding himself for not thinking of this earlier, he began to search his pockets for identification and quickly came up with a ring full of keys. Some appeared to be house keys, and two were keys to a Ford automobile of some kind. The others were a mystery. The first trailer they came to had a wide piece of masking tape on the door on which was hand-printed "T. Hatcher" and, under it and slightly slipshod in attachment, was a sticker with a logo: the Superman S shield, and on it "Lois and Clark" smartly stylized, and, beneath that in an arching yellow spray, smaller letters spelled out "The New Adventures of Superman." What? "New Adventures"? That's an understatement, Clark thought dully... Lois spotted it, too, and then glanced at him for his reaction; he knew she would not give her own away until she had gauged his. Stunned would be a good way to describe it. How could this be? How could any of this be? He noticed Lois now glancing down at his hand and the keys he held limply. She smiled apologetically, probably for the benefit of the two watching them, and touched Clark's shoulder. "Wait, let's talk in *your* trailer, *Dean,* mine's a *real mess*!" Oh? He looked beyond the sign, through the door and then off to his left and into the rest of the trailer. It was sparsely furnished, but that included a laptop computer on a desk and one piece of clothing thrown over the back of a chair. T. Hatcher did not impress as being a messy woman, wherever she was now, if she were alive still... The overwhelming nature of all this began to reassert itself on Clark's consciousness and the idea of running about in tight little circles, screaming gibberish at the top of his lungs, was more tempting than ever before... "Ah," he didn't think he could call her Ms. Hatcher, not considering he, or rather whoever he was standing in for, had been in the midst of kissing her 15 minutes ago. He just looked at her. "I think you and I do need to talk a moment." The two strangers didn't look particularly surprised; maybe talking privately wasn't an unusual occurrence for Hatcher and Dean. "Talk?" Lois repeated helpfully. "*You and I* don't need to talk." He eye-reminded her that they were on the same side, and he didn't want an argument. "Yes, we do, over... over there." He nodded at what looked like a free space between the trailers. She wanted to balk at this. She no doubt had a plan brewing and he was sure it consisted mainly of waiting for him to discover the right place to use the keys he'd found so she'd have more to work with. This might include locking these two people into Dean's trailer, so a delaying time-out couldn't be part of her plan. He put the keys back in their pocket, took her closer arm gently and coaxed her away from the strangers, who now did look a little surprised. Well, Clark sighed to himself, they weren't a fraction as surprised as they were going to be. Some 20 feet away and between Hatcher's and the next trailer, he cornered Lois. He whispered, "I know this won't be easy for you to consider because it's hard for *me* to consider, and I know you're going to argue with me, but... we have to tell them the truth." "What?! What truth?" "About who we really--" "Brilliant, Clark, and if whoever's behind is *hoping* that's what we'll do? Admit to the world who you are?" Oh, he thought, that hadn't occurred to him. But it didn't sound right. "Wait a minute, whoever did this, if it wasn't some freak accident--" "Ha!" "Lois, please..." She moderated her skeptical look somewhat. "Sorry, I'm just..." she didn't want to say any word that sounded remotely like "frightened." He knew he was the only one she ever allowed to see this weakness. "I know. I am, too, but whoever did this, they have to already know--" "Or they're using us as bait for you-know-who to come rescue us." Another angle that hadn't occurred to him. It sounded logical, too. He searched for an equally logical rejoinder. "But... But I'm already standing right here, out in the open, and have been for the last fifteen minutes, and no one has recognized me or him." She frowned. "True... but they could be stunned with surprise and waiting for you to do something to prove it. They *could* be watching us" she leaned a bit closer and mouthed it out, "with hidden cameras." This guess could be right: this place had lots of cameras. He looked up and scanned the area quickly but thoroughly, paying particular attention to every visible edge of the high roofs of the buildings surrounding them. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated on simply listening... but he heard none of the slightly echoey sounds that even long-distance eavesdropping devices always seemed to make. This could also rule out hallucination-producing devices. He smelled no noxious gases, just the normal by-products of gasoline combustion in cool, humid air. He recalled the fleeting taste of the chewing gum but other than that, he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Even though she had claimed to feel better, Lois had only been picking at her granola bar when they had parted upon arriving at work. The evidence on her desk of the poorly hidden candy wrapper meant she had indulged in her usual midmorning snack after the press conference at S.T.A.R. Labs. While neither of them were starving, it was unlikely they had been poisoned. His clothes being a little tight and the stupid makeup caking his face were the only wrong things he could detect about himself physically. If there were a drug in the makeup, odds were it wouldn't have effected him. He x-rayed her quickly and saw nothing amiss except the tight clothing that made her look uncomfortable. He shook his head a few seconds after starting his search. "Nothing." "All right, nothing *now*, but we can't just *tell* them-- we're gathering clues right and left! We'll figure this out!" "Under other circumstances--like being back in Metropolis or anywhere else that we could make sense of, I'd agree with you. It could even be fun. But it looks to me that the clues we're gathering are only confirming how critical the situation is." "Clark..." "And you know I'm *not* usually a pessimist." She softened her frown. "I know..." She touched his chest comfortingly; the gesture felt good. Maybe it gave her strength, too. "But it's... it's because we don't have enough if the *right* clues yet. When we have enough and we've wrestled them into submission, it'll be clear sailing and we'll charge down the field and hit a home run out of the ring, I just know it!" "Lois," he said as gently as possible, "we're really in trouble when you start mixing sports metaphors." She retrieved her hand, folded her arms and frowned again, "Don't try to sand-trap *me*, farmboy!" That sporting near-expletive, said in a deceptively soft tone of voice, told him that she agreed with him and that she could be on the verge of conceding to it, not a happy prospect. Worse still, next she'd probably dream up some way to blame herself for all this. An attempt to distract and appeal to her altruistic nature was called for. "Let's say for the sake of my argument that we're here by accident." She just looked at him, letting her expression say "Ha!" for her since she'd already used up her quota of that verbal challenge. "Okay, I agree, it's unlikely--but, whatever, however this was done to us, we seem to be standing in for two totally innocent people. If we just bumble along trying to figure out what's happening, we could very well ruin their lives while we're trying to save our own necks." "If there *are* two such people." "I think there are," he said quietly. "And I think they're only actors, and I think that if somehow they're taking *our* places then they're definitely in worse trouble than we are." She looked at him, her lips pursing in a fair imitation of his at the moment, their eyes dueling... but she blinked first and looked away. "All right, maybe there are two such people and they are in trouble because they're not as smart as we are, they're probably scared stiff, and we should protect them if we can." He smiled but kept it small as not to provoke her. He wanted to hug her and withheld that, too. This was the soft-hearted Lois he knew and loved, the one who had to feel she'd come to important conclusions on her own. She continued, "And if this John person comes home, what if he's her brother? I'll never fool him, and *you* could never fool that guy's parents." "Right. I'm already having trouble thinking of things to say to these two people. Complications like that just keep building up." "Yes... I still don't think we should do it..." He refrained from saying "Lois..." as he had used up his quota, too. Besides, she didn't disappoint him. "...but I won't stop you if you want to go ahead and try it--but ask them some questions first. *Test* them." A compromise he could live with. "Okay, that's a good idea." "Of course it is!" Clark let himself smile now. He glanced around to check that they still weren't being observed, confirmed it, and leaned forward and kissed her forehead briefly. She looked exasperated and whispered "Hey!" tersely. She grabbed the tie he was wearing, pulled him toward her, and got a real kiss out of him, one that lasted several seconds. It made him feel better about this plan. Being this close, it occurred to him to ask, "Does your head still hurt?" for that could be behind some of her testiness. "Huh? Ah..." She looked away, reflecting on it. She had to think about it? Didn't one just... know? She said, "No, it doesn't... that's good." "There, see? There's *something* good about this." She rolled her eyes at the optimist in him trying desperately to resurface. She looked cute when she did that, and her ensuing frown probably meant she suspected he was thinking that very thing. "Well, it might be a *clue*!" "Okay, we'll work on it when we find some time to breathe." He glanced through the corner of the trailer. The two look- alikes were still waiting patiently, testimony to their friendship to be willing to humor Ms. Hatcher and Dean like this. As Clark could also see that the street that they had been on was busy and passersby threatened to take this side road frequently, he decided not to approach the Jimmy look-alike and Kay but to presume on their kindness once more. He stepped out and motioned. "Could you both come here for a moment?" They looked at each other. The young man shrugged and indicated that Kay could go first if she wished. She did. "Are you two all right? Justin was warning me that he's already invited you for Thanksgiving dinner and I think that's wonderful, but if you'd like to come to my place for lunch today, I can make some nice chicken and leek soup." "That sounds good, I am hungry," Lois said, her stomach overruling her head as it sometimes did. There was the chance, Clark thought, that it could be an invitation they would be able to accept. He wondered if this woman's cooking would taste like his Mom's. He then wondered if he'd even see his Mom again. "With the girls away," she said, "my house is almost too quiet, so it would be nice to get together to visit without worrying about work." Did she have no one to share the holiday with? Clark felt for her, glad his real Mom had Dad to keep her company. But he knew he couldn't dwell on any of this. The two strangers were close enough now. "Well, Kay and Justin, ah," He motioned at Lois, "...and I have been having a little argument and we want your opinions." "Argument? You two, argue?" Justin shook his head and smiled. "Since when? Unless it's over some lines or something and it can't be that right now. Good thing they don't allow cameras back here, huh?" Cameras--*hidden* cameras? Was the young man trying to clue them into something? "Pardon?" "The tabloids, you know..." Tabloids? The Metropolis Star? Other than in friendly rivalry, why would that paper be interested in him and Lois? But if this young man suspected that some other hungry newspaper and not a villain bent on revenge would be interested in them--they might be responsible somehow for this mess, and they weren't allowed "back here" anyway... except it wasn't him and Lois but Dean and Ms. Hatcher... Clark pulled himself away from the unlikely and confusing scenario and said simply, "Oh, yeah." "The tabloids," Lois said, elbowing him. She looked at the two next. "We need you to help us settle this argument. Go ahead, tell them, *Dean*," she poked him again, "but *don't* give your opinion away." He frowned at her. For someone who wasn't going to stop him, she was exercising a little bit too much editorial discretion here. "I won't," he told her clearly, hoping he also implied that he didn't want her to poke him any more. Her expression became a touch skeptical. He recognized it as a goad attempt to get him to do it her way, even if she probably couldn't tell him what that was. He wouldn't allow her to succeed though; this had to be done carefully. He addressed the two strangers again. "We were just arguing about..." It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea what to say that would prompt the two to give him and Lois what they needed to make the right choice about a revelation. Interviewing ax murders was easier than this. "...about something important to us." "Actually, it was about the tabloids," Lois said. Good start. "Exactly." "And about Superman." "Right, Superman." Superman? "Does Dean look at all like Superman? The tabloids, well, you know *them.* *I* think..." She paused, shrugged and smiled guiltily, "it doesn't matter what I think, does it? I've been fooled in the past, so what do *I* know?" What kind of test question was that from an award-winning journalist? "Hey, I wasn't supposed to give them *my* opinion..." or give away any secrets, not that he had an opinion or she had given one exactly, and not that these people might not know certain things, given the strangeness of seeing the Daily Planet on a sound stage... but fair was fair. "You were arguing about *that*?" Kay asked. "Well, sort of," Clark said quickly. "I mean, after all..." After all what? "I can't remember that we've talked about it since... oh, since we did the pilot. Most critics seemed to think you did a good job and still do a good job." "And I wasn't even part of that," Justin said. "But I thought you did okay." "You've been at it for three and half years now," Kay said, "and most fans accept your interpretation." "It's true you don't have muscles on muscles on muscles like the guy in the comics," Justin added, "but he's unreal--two dimensional, ha-ha..." Comics? "I like how your Superman looks, too, like he could be from almost any part of the world. American, European, Asian, Indian. And most people prefer your Clark anyhow. To be honest, last summer the List discussed it and seemed to think Chris Reeve was a better Superman, but *I* like how you pull it off. You look more real as Superman, less... daunting." Less what? He agreed with the multiracial assessment because he'd heard it numerous times before, but "List," "Chris Reeve" and "daunting"? "Ah, thanks..." He glanced at Lois, who didn't appear to understand it any better than he did. "You see?" She frowned, unwilling to "see" anything yet, and dragged her eyes off him to pin them on Kay. "And me, is my... Lois Lane like the Lois you... imagine?" "Well, of course, dear! I think the fans like your Lois the best of all of them." Lois smiled briefly, taken by surprise by the honest and totally unexpected opinion. "Oh, good, the fans like *my* Lois." "She's--*you're* certainly the *prettiest* Lois," Justin chimed in, grinning. While Clark could agree whole heartedly with this sentiment, whatever it actually meant, he knew Lois hardly ever believed anything positive said about either her physical or intellectual attributes, even if he were the one telling her... though in those very tender, very private, very close moments she was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and permit herself to revel in his admiration of her many sterling qualities. However, at the moment, Kay and Justin's admiration for someone who only looked like Lois had little chance of making a long-term, positive impact on the real woman. This was good because in a way it reinforced the reality of the situation. Lois looked at him, her smile lapsing already, traded for an expression of begrudging acknowledgement. "But you're not stereotyped as a ditzy reporter, I don't think," Kay said innocently, "if that's what you're worried about." That was like a slap across the face. "'Ditzy'?!" "It's one of Lois's endearing qualities that you have down pat." "Ditzy..." Lois grumbled under her breath. "But with your movies," Kay continued, "and your... other activities like the photo shoots, fans see other sides of your... talents--and yours, too, Dean. So just relax about all that." She glanced at Justin. "I think they *do* need this vacation." "Yeah. Hey, maybe you two'd like to..." he suggested this gently, "get some rest tomorrow instead of getting together...?" "No," Clark said, the course they had to take clear now even if he had no idea of the outcome. "We have something to investigate. I don't think we'll be getting much rest." Kay, concerned before, now looked confused, too. Clark wondered if actors Dean and Hatcher were likely to do any investigating. He then began to wonder what if anything the two did together when they weren't here working. Ms. Hatcher, who had to be a beauty if she looked so much like Lois, must have been constantly busy doing charity work and fashion layouts wearing the finest clothing. "We'll be tracking down something," Lois explained. Clark was glad she kept most of the sarcasm she must have been feeling out of her voice. "Something 'ditzy' people don't do, I'll have you know. We'll be solving a *genuine mystery*." "But we've already found out one thing," Clark tried to assure Kay, not wanting to see this woman flustered and not just because she reminded him of Mom. For that matter, he didn't want to see Justin worried, either, and he hoped Lois would get over the "ditzy" comment soon. "We found out we need some help." "Yes," Lois said. She then got over being ditzy by mounting an undisguised coup d'etat on his plan: "We've found out that you have *no* idea who we really are." *** (continued) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 7 Nov 1997 07:18:19 +1100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Stosser Subject: Re: .Debby's fanfic plot... In-Reply-To: <2.2.16.19971106055009.08e7cb96@swcp.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" >Debby :) >Debby@swcp.com >Maybe Lois could fine out what *really* >happened to the extra "r" once >in Albuquerque... > Or the extra A in Ballarat? (It used to be spelled Ballaarat, or was that Ballaraat? I forget) (For those of you who don't know, Ballarat was the site of the Eureka Stockade, the closest thing Australia ever had to a war of independence from England.) -- Jenny Stosser -*- jenerate@ozramp.net.au -*- (Jenerator or MoiAussie on IRC) This message is umop ap!sdn -*- David is 5 and Megan is 2! Photos on the Stosser Family HomePage: http://www.ozramp.net.au/~jenerate Please Visit! ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 6 Nov 1997 17:40:57 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: "Margaret Brignell (by way of Margaret Brignell )" Subject: SwapMeet: Metropolis Part 5 of 16 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Metropolis, New Troy 11:15 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Thursday 348 Hyperion Ave., West Metropolis They hadn't found a drug store en route because they'd taken the expressway out of the downtown core and then exited that busy byway and driven through purely residential streets. They figured they could check the Yellow Pages of the phone book at the Kent's place. It didn't seem as urgent now. Maybe it was the sunshine, or the fresh air, or the distracting scenery as they drove with the windows down, but Dean didn't feel ill at the moment. He still wanted to get out of the skin-tight outfit as soon as possible, but that could wait a few minutes. The skyline of Metropolis had been breathtaking. Buildings of all shapes, sizes and colours. There was even one that was all shiny black marble, with gold trim around the windows and pinnacle. The logo on the side had been an L enclosed by a gold triangle. Teri pointed the building out to Dean, "Do you think the L is for Luthor?" "It's possible. If this *is* a realistic copy of our comic book world, the chances are that the villains are just as 'real' as the 'good guys'." "If he's even half as bad as the character in the show, *I* don't want to meet up with him." Teri shuddered. "Me neither." Dean returned his attention to the road in front of him. The traffic wasn't as bad as the freeways in L.A., but then again the highways seemed to be better designed. They hadn't come across one single entrance ramp that didn't give the merging traffic enough time to get up to speed without putting their fellow drivers in danger of life and limb. They'd had plenty of warning to change lanes for their exit and the other drivers seemed comparatively polite. It was a refreshing change from the madness he experienced daily in L.A. He'd moved closer to the studio just to avoid it. When they found 348 Hyperion they'd parked on the street and gaped at the house. It looked *exactly* like the Georgian facade used in Burbank! How'd the set designers know what it looked like? Dean and Teri had gotten into the house by the simple expedient of trying all the keys on Lois's key ring. Although he'd wished at the time that he had super speed, because Lois Lane must have had enough keys to fit every door for five square blocks. After entering, they first explored the entire house to see if there was anyone at home. Downstairs, the only signs of anyone living here were some fish in a tank between the kitchen and the dining room. The rest of the ground floor was spotlessly clean. "You think the neatness is a byproduct of having Superman living in the house?" Teri queried. "This is cleaner than houses I've seen with full-time servants." Dean grinned. "Why? Did you want to hire him to clean your place?" Teri just rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs. Upstairs there were two bedrooms, a bathroom and a room that seemed to have been left in the middle of renovation some time ago, judging from the accumulation of dust. The dust seemed distinctly out of place after seeing the pristine condition of the rest of the house. Dean couldn't decide what function this room had been intended for until he almost stepped on, then picked up and unfurled a roll of border-width wall covering of happy teddy bears holding hands. Teri's eyes widened when she saw it. "Oh, dear, they must be so disheartened. To have your hopes crushed like that." "You think...?" "Uh-huh," Teri nodded. "I mean why else leave the renovation in the middle and just let the room gather dust? You've seen the rest of the house. They wouldn't have left the room like this if they hadn't been disappointed." She looked around at the half finished room. "I wonder if they lost it, or it was just a false alarm?" Dean shrugged and tried to see the possible hope hidden behind the forlorn facade of the room. "They didn't change it back to whatever the room was before. Maybe it was just a temporary setback and they don't want to continue with the nursery renovation until they're sure next time." "I hope so." Teri turned and walked out of the room. Dean dropped the border roll where he'd found it and followed Teri back into the hall. Further exploration found slightly damp towels obviously left to dry in the bathroom that morning. People really did live here. Except for the one room, the rest of the house had seemed so immaculate, he'd begun to wonder. Finding no clues to help them with their current problem, they went back downstairs. Besides the living room and kitchen, there was a TV room/den and a home office. In the office they found a laptop open and active. "I wonder why this is on?" Teri sat down in front of the screen and deactivated the screen saver. Dean shrugged. He was having trouble breathing again. "Look, I'll go up and change while you take a look at it. Let me know if you find anything interesting." Leaving Teri to take a look at what the laptop was doing, Dean went through the living room heading for the stairs again and the master bedroom to find a change of clothes. While he was passing the bookshelves in the living room he thought he'd try pulling at the second book on the middle left shelf, just for laughs since that's what they supposedly did on the show to open the secret closet, only to find it really did activate the door to a hidden closet. "Hey, Teri, come and look at this!" "No! Dean! Come *here*! Come and look at *this*!" Teri sounded excited. He hurried back into the office. "The computer! I discovered it's logging an IRC session and they're discussing *us*!" Teri was leaning forward to catch line after line of messages scrolling across the screen. "There's your name and mine and FoLC and those silly acronyms the fans use for whole sentences." Pointing to the title in the border at the top of the screen as he spoke, Dean said, "It's the 'Locally Originating InterStellar Communications Link Access'. I've never heard of that. It does spell LOISCLA, but it can't be the #loiscla channel we know and love." Then in a puzzled tone of voice, "But why would they be discussing Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman? This *is* the real Lois and Clark's world, not just a TV show. It can't be about the show." "But, Dean, they *are* discussing the show! See, there's Zoomway and some of the other regulars. It *has* to be the same channel. Maybe we have an interstellar link to our world. Maybe that's what the InterStellar part in the heading means. Maybe we should talk to them," and she placed her fingers on the keyboard. "Hey, wait!" He grasped her wrists, "If you're right, we can't just dive in saying who we are. They'll never believe us. I mean, *I* have trouble believing what's happened to us and I'm actually here experiencing it. *They're* just going to think we're cranks and ban us from the channel! And then where will we be? We'll have lost what looks like our only link to our world. We can't risk it!" "Oh--yeah..." She slumped back in the chair and then sat up again. "Let me look at the log file. Maybe I can find a pattern for when people are on who we can trust, and try to talk with them." "K lurks on this channel now and then. If we could talk to her, she'd believe us. Especially if Lois and Clark have confided in her. And even if they haven't, we know her well enough to convince her that we're not crazy. But first we have to talk to her. Maybe she'll be on it again soon." "How are we going to know when she plans to be on? She usually does AOL on Wednesday nights. If it's before noon here on the East coast, it's still morning in California, she won't be on for hours." Teri frowned and then brightened, "Wait! I'll who-is someone and find out what time it is where they are. Cheequi lives in New Mexico, that's Mountain time..." She typed furiously, "it's 16:35 there--but it's only..." she checked Lois' watch "about 11am here, that's weird..." "This *whole thing* is weird, so that's not surprising." Dean read over the whois statement again. "Hey, look at that! It's still Wednesday, November 27 there! But the status bar," he pointed to the lower edge of the screen, "shows it's August 15 here, so the times are totally whacked out!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "But trying to talk to K is a great idea. Why not ask if anyone's heard if she'll be on? I see people asking that kind of thing all the time when I lurk on the channel. If anyone asks why we're asking so far ahead of time, we can pretend we're in Australia but going through, oh, Chicago or something. A lot of fans from Australia chat on this channel." "You sound like you lurk a lot here." "Sure I do, when I have time, don't you?" "Uh-huh, but I didn't know you did." "Of course, I learn a lot that way." He grinned at her. "Here, let me at the keyboard." Dean keyed his question and hit Enter. I heard K would be on soon, anyone know when? "Argh! What kind of nick is that? Why'd they pick *that*? I thought that was the name of the channel before we figured out it was LOISCLA. Change it, Dean!" "The channel?" Dean feigned innocence. Teri tapped her fingertips on his shoulder. "The nick! Change the nick." Dean figured he'd overdone the innocent act so he just asked, "To what?" "Well, something that will give a clue as to who we are and where." "Okay, we're in Metropolis, so what about Metro?" "Good! And there's two of us, so add Duo. That should give Lois and Clark a clue who we are...if they're in our world and we ever get them on this channel." "Nice to see you thinking positive." He ducked as she tried to swat him one. Grinning, Dean did a /nick change resulting in: *** Siol is now known as MetroDuo Meanwhile, there was a flurry of activity on the screen as people first wondered about, denied, then tentatively confirmed that K would be coming onto the channel sometime in the next couple of hours. Zoomway reported that she was currently on AOL with ABCAmy. After she finished her public chat, the actress would visit one of the AOL chat rooms then probably IRC. Dean and Teri gave a sigh of relief. Then tensed as they both realized that this meant it was *night* in Burbank. It should have been morning! "Dean, how can K be on AOL? It's not even noon yet!" "The times must be different, remember the weird whois time, but that doesn't matter because it looks like we're going to be able to contact her. What luck!" Dean felt tremendous relief, maybe this would be over real soon. "We'll be able to talk to K and I'm *sure* Lois and Clark will have connected up with her. She's probably making Thanksgiving Dinner for them right now." And at the quizzical look from Teri, "See! The old lemons-to-lemonade trick works every time!" ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 6 Nov 1997 19:12:22 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: The Things I Will Do if I am Ever the Hero Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" I found this recently in a newsgroup and while it is aimed more at B5/StarTrek franchise and others, some of this can apply to L&C... and maybe we can make our own list :) - Debby >From John Sat, 01 Nov 1997 17:13:53 -0800 From: John & Linda VanSickle Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written,rec.arts.sf.tv Subject: The Things I Will Do if I am Ever the Hero Those of you who read much speculative fiction are familiar with the plot device of having the hero do something consummately stupid, in order to prevent him from ending the book too quickly, which leads to much suffering and strife until the hero finally wises up. To counter this, and as an answer to Peter Anspach's Overlord List, I present the Things I Will Do if I Am Ever the Hero: 1. I will maintain no association with sidekicks who employ prostitutes. They (the prostitutes) are too often spies for the Evil Overlord. 2. I will design my ship's tactical systems so that I do not have to personally direct every single shot fired. 3. I will ignore the Evil Overlord's arguments revolving around honor and/or morality. If he were really all that concerned about either, he would never have become an Evil Overlord in the first place. 4. I will put surge suppressors in the circuitry of my ship, so that a shot striking some distant portion does not cause a control panel on the bridge to explode. 5. When the Evil Overlord takes hostages, I will presume the hostages dead until the Evil Overlord is overthrown and the hostages are rescued, and I will summarily ignore any promises he might make regarding their safe return. 6. I will design my ships so that command and control functions cannot be hot-wired from a wall panel in the recreation bay. 7. I will not walk alone and undisguised into a bar in the Evil Overlord's territory in order to meet with an ex-associate who said a bunch of damaging things about me in one of the Evil Overlord's propaganda pieces. 8. I will design redundancy into all ship systems, so that the loss of one component wll not cripple the vessel. 9. When the Evil Overlord is hanging on the cliff by his fingers, I will not try to help him up. If time and means are available, I'll kill him then and there. 10. When combat is imminent, my ships' computer will be programmed so that enemy troops that beam aboard will be immediately beamed into empty space, or the originating ship's reactor core, if that is accessible. 11. When I am advised to destroy a potent talisman captured from the Evil Overlord, I will do so. 12. When the enemy ship de-cloaks and is arming weapons, I will not wait for it to fire three or four times before instructing my officers to return fire. 13. Anyone inquiring after the secret of my strength will be fed a line of plausible baloney as to how this strength can be lost. If the bogus advice is followed, the leak shall be properly investigated. 14. When a comrade defects to the enemy, I will have all passwords changed, and as soon as it is practical I will have the computer disconnected, its memory flushed, and the approved software reloaded from the original CD-ROMs. 15. Anyone who cannot be entertained by books, music, and a well-stocked bar will not be allowed to crew my ship. Hence there will be no need for holodecks. 16. Should my True Love be revealed as disguised Evil Scum, I will not wait for it to transform into a more powerful incarnation before blasting it to oblivion. 17. After capturing a space station from an enemy, I will have the enemy's computer systems completely removed and melted down into slag, and a new computer installed. 18. I will take no oath of unquestioning obedience, nor any oath of obedience to persons of unproved character. 19. If I have a comrade who is a sanctimonious coward who continually gets us all into trouble through his greed, I shall, after the third or fourth episode of this behavior, act to preserve myself and other comrades only, and let him be destroyed by the mess he made for himself. 20. I will reveal to each comrade a different clue for distinguishing me from an impostor, so that if one of them betrays me and an impostor is sent in my place, the others will still be able to catch on to the charade. 21. Under no circumstance will I agree to not develop or employ any particular technology. 22. I will never assume that an enemy is dead unless the remains are available for examination; if there is some sort of cloning/ resurrection technology or magic, I will continue to reserve judgment. 23. I will employ some manner of surveillance so that when I leave a room and a traitorous comrade gives me the Malicious Scowl or Wicked Leer to my back, I will have ample warning of his impending betrayal. 24. Self-appointed prophets who deliver elliptically-worded warnings will be politely asked to phrase their utterances in plainer terms. 25. If I find myself born or drafted into a universe wherein the laws of nature do not obey consistent principles, I will depart for an alternate universe created by a more reasonable author. 26. I will waste no time trying to get the rich to join in my rebellion. The only way to stay rich in the Evil Overlord's realm is to collaborate with him, and any rich people who truly feel guilty about this will serve the rebellion better by not openly joining. 27. If my Mentor tells me that I am not yet ready to confront the Evil Overlord, I will quietly accept his judgement and remain to complete my training. 28. If the Evil Overlord manages to off my Mentor, I will not go berserk and attack immediately, but retreat and hone my powers. If my Mentor couldn't defeat the Evil Overlord, I surely must wait a while before I can. 29. I shall arrange my personal affairs so that it doesn't matter if someone learns my secret identity. 30. If I am granted a vision of the future, I will not try to prevent anything that I see. It never works. 31. If I am forced to make a choice between saving a friend/lover or fulfilling my mission, I will make my decision and stick with it. I will not waste time waffling between the two goals. 32. If I am captured by the Evil Overlord and escape, I will assume that he is tracking me in some manner. If I am going to the hidden rebel base, I shall first go to an alternate location, change clothing, equipment and means of transportation, and then go to the hidden rebel base. 33. If any of my associates mysteriously reappear after an unexplained absence and start acting strangely, I will immediately subject them to every test I can think of. The likelihood that they have been brainwashed, cloned, bought, or otherwise subverted by the Evil Overlord approaches certainty. 34. Old flames that join the rebellion will be assigned duties that preclude contact with me. This not only protects me from any attempt by the Evil Overlord to use them as agents, but also keeps my True Love from leaving me in a fit of insane, if misplaced, jealousy. 35. I will presume that the Evil Overlord is working to nullify my secret powers. I shall therefore obtain the means to fight that do not rely on these secret powers. 36. If I have a technologically superior foe who is intent on eliminating my whole civilization, and I am offered a means of utterly annihilating this foe for all time, I will use it. 37. If I must ally myself with the Evil Overlord to fight an even more powerful enemy, I will anticipate his inevitable betrayal, at the moment most advantageous to him, and take appropriate measures. 38. I will never travel back into the past in order to prevent the current situation. It never works. 39. No matter how sincere he looks, I will never shake the Evil Overlord's hand. 40. When my powerful wizard friend fails to return at the appointed time, I won't wait until after my birthday to start my Perilous Journey. I will set out immediately. 41. If it seems too easy to break into the Evil Overlord's super-secret fortress, that's because it is. 42. If the Evil Overlord invites me to go on a hunt with him, I will decline the invitation. 43. If I have a copy of the Evil Overlord's plans and my capture is imminent, I will not send the only copy of those plans away with a cute little sidekick. I will make many copies of the plans and send them away with many cute little sidekicks. 44. I will install seatbelts in my space vessels. The Things I Will Do if I Am Ever the Hero List is a group effort. The following people are to be congratulated on their contributory efforts, and if I am ever the hero will be accepted as sidekicks: Max Rible Giles Boutel Rodger Burns Stephen Doe The Amazing Deadpool Jiten Vaidya The most recente version of this list can be found at: http://www.erols.com/vansickl/hero.htm -- "We Yellowbeards are never more dangerous than when we're dead." http://www.erols.com/vansickl more.... >From buckley@refuge.Colorado.EDU 4 Nov 1997 18:03:19 GMT From: buckley@refuge.Colorado.EDU (Charles Buckley) Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written,rec.arts.sf.tv Subject: Re: The Things I Will Do if I am Ever the Hero I will observe my opponent before attacking. If he is hatching plots that an average 5 year old could have told him wouldn't work, I will be sure to attack with every resource I have in as many ways as possible instead of relying on a small group comprised of the command of the rebel forces in a sneak attack. If the Evil Overlord is that big an idiot, he can be beaten a thousand different ways. If my sidekick is a faithful animal, it will be killed. I should get used to it after the 5th time. I will remember that there are 3 dimensions in space and that I do not have to attack in the same plane as the opponent. I will never utter the phrase "This one is mine" and engage in a hand-to-hand struggle with the Evil Overlord's bodyguard/executioner/general. I will never assume that the being turned into pure energy is going to be benevolent. If the enemy ever threatens to shoot the cute kid, I will let them. If I ever hear the Prime Directive, I will know that we can ignore it, or warp the meaning in a thousand different ways. No, I do not need to give the Overlord a fair chance. Shooting him in the back works for me. After the Overlord has been shot/stabbed/ and seemingly killed, I will count to three, then shoot him again. If your opponent is blowing up planets and you're complimenting yourself on finally detroying one of their smaller ships, RUN! If my village allies defeat the elite forces of the Evil Overlord, I will take a few minutes to ask "Why"? This will allow to to plan to exploit their weaknesses. I will reflect upon nicknames of the Evil Overlord. "The Evil", "The Abomination", "The Sorcerer", etc, etc. I will take this into account when the poor villagers are reluctant to join in the rebellion. I will take this into account when negotiating with the Overlord. The enemy of my enemy is not my enemy... this does not mean that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I will realize that not everyone is self-sacrificing and I should not expect the rebels to put aside all past interests and conflicts. ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 7 Nov 1997 05:38:13 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Stark Subject: Swap-Meet: Burbank part 5 of 20 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Swap-Meet: Burbank part 5 of 20 by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com [note: originally "finished" on 2/20/97; reread on 11/05/97 and a few words changed here and there + minor punctuation changes, making this the *most* up-to-date version - Debby, who reminds you that some things are spelled "wrong" on purpose :)] An Alternate Burbank Warner Brothers Studio Day One, Morning Approximately 8:40 "So much for *me* telling them," Clark muttered. "Well, *you* were beating around the bush, what was I supposed to do, take up *knitting*?" "Hold it, hold it, you two," Kay said, waving her hands for attention. "This argument of yours must have been a lot worse than you're letting on. What do you mean we don't know who you really are?" Justin leaned close to her. "Maybe it's a script idea," he suggested. "Remember when she asked us if we wanted to play leetle teeny people," he held up his thumb and forefinger, indicating half an inch, "and only Dean volunteered?" "I think she was joking on that one," Kay told him, also aside, "and that he was just as surprised as everyone else, especially by that shower scene." "Well, it was still fun, the big pencils and pictures and everything, so maybe this will be, too, whatever it is." Justin looked at them. "So, what is this, research? Who are you *really*?--maybe you're *spies!* From NBC? CBS? I know!" and he winked, "Paramount?" Clark squared his shoulders, not easy since the suit jacket was at least a size too small, glanced at Lois to warn her to keep her "help" to herself for a minute, please, and said as simply as he could, "I am really Clark Kent and this is really Lois Lane, my wife." "And he's my husband," Lois threw in as an equalizer. The two look-alikes gave them long consideration. Finally Kay said "Uh-huh..." "I don't think five days of vacation is gonna be *nearly* enough nap time for them..." "They need proof, Clark," Lois diagnosed, as though she had expected this all along. "But taking off my glasses didn't help and they weren't mine anyway, and I don't have them so I can't try that again." She blinked at him. He looked back over it and realized he had been babbling there for a moment. Things were even worse than he thought. "Maybe shoring up Hoover Dam and then carrying that ocean liner into port yesterday were a bigger strains than I realized..." "Yes, maybe," she said calmly. "I think they need *other* proof." Other proof... "Show-off proof," she clarified. Oh. The kind she had been afraid bad guys were watching for. "Yeah, show off," Justin said, a play-along tone in his voice, "If you're Clark Kent, then do something that Superman would do." Ohmigosh, they weren't joking along with Lois (Ms. Hatcher) before, they really did know about him... and they treated the secret like it was common knowledge. This did seem to confirm the "this is all a freak accident that has thrown us into an alternate universe" theory lurking in the back of his mind. That brought Tempus back into the picture, though, if only at the extreme periphery since he should have made himself known long before this. Please don't let Tempus be involved... Retrieving himself yet again, Clark felt compelled to clear up something. "I'd like to ask just one question first: I think we're in Southern California. If so, where is Metropolis?" "Good one," Lois whispered, which strengthened his resolve. "Why?" Justin asked, deadpan, "gonna fly there?" "Maybe..." What would it take? Sixty seconds minimum, with Lois protected from windburn by this stylish if somewhat small jacket and his perfectly fitting aura. Kay put her hand on her friend's shoulder, as though advising him against making any more sarcastic remarks. She proceeded carefully. "It's thought that Metropolis is a stand in for New York, though we've mentioned New York in the show a few times already. It's one of the continuity bloopers the fans like to point out. Wherever it is, when we have shown it on maps, it's in the general area of New York City, in a state called New Troy." "And there is no such state in the United States," Justin said. "But there *is* a Kansas, which is where Superman's ship crashed except he wasn't Superman but a little baby and the Kents found him and adopted him, but everyone knows *that*." "I see..." Clark glanced at Lois. Subdued for the moment, she clearly didn't see, which actually matched his entire understanding of this. How could these two people--how could "everyone" know so much? "There is no Metropolis here," Lois whispered, "on this world." She moved closer to him and took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "In this... this universe." She was thinking the same thing, so it must be true. "Looks like." The two strangers noticed her gesture and his acceptance of it and looked surprised. Clark tried to ignore the implications (Hatcher and Dean weren't this close). What was important was that it felt like she was surrendering to the inevitable at last, and she confirmed this by saying quietly, "Give them some proof." Yes, he told himself, let's get on with it, both of us. He squeezed her hand lightly, then broke contact and rubbed his hands together, licking his lips briefly. He checked the street; it was clear in the immediate area, good. "I have to show you something. It could be startling. I'd appreciate it if you didn't start screaming or running in circles or anything like that." "Don't worry," Kay said kindly. "No problemo," Justin agreed. He sunk his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. When seeking this out-of-the-way place in which to talk to Lois, Clark had noticed the Hatcher trailer's heavy-duty hitch. He held up one finger to show the onlookers, hooked that one finger under the closest edge of the hitch, and lifted the trailer about two feet, as far as he dared here in public. Justin's jaw dropped. Kay covered her mouth with three fingers. No tabloid reporters jumped out with cameras blazing. No Tempus, no Kyle Griffin, no Baron Sunday, no Lex laughing... "Show off," Lois whispered, but her eyes twinkled. Clark dared a small smile. "Well, ah," Justin began. "Dean's a very strong young man," Kay told them in defense of sanity. "He works out every day, he..." Clark looked around the immediate area again and spotted possible witnesses in a black car headed their way, but he figured he had about half a minute. This was enough time to pull his legs up and sit Indian style about three feet in the air. This better be enough proof because he disliked showing off for anyone except Lois and his folks. "...but he can't do that." Justin, shaken, looked skyward. "No scaffolding, no ropes, no wires..." Clark unfolded his legs and regained the ground. "I don't need those things." In a few seconds, the black car passed by slowly. It was carrying men in business suits. Their heads turned and someone in the car said, "Actors, on some show made here," but the car didn't stop. Justin and Kay watched the car pass. Clark noticed that these two utter strangers took several protective steps back, closer to him and Lois. This impressed him. He glanced at Lois; she had noticed it, too, and she smiled a little, hopefully. When the coast was clear again, the young man turned back and looked at Clark. "You saw the car coming..." "Yes." "You looked right through the trailer and saw it coming." "Yes." His eyes widened with excitement. Clark could see this coming, too. Justin whispered, "Wow... You *are* Superman..." "No, I'm Clark." "Superman is what he can do," Lois added. The young man and the older woman looked at each other. She said, "That's just what *he* said in Tempus Fugitive!" "Yeah! I only had a few lines in that one, but it sure was fun to watch!" The woman nodded and breathed a little more deeply, patting her chest in a self comforting manner that worried Clark. She said, "I think I need to sit down for a minute..." "Good idea," Lois said, "you can sit, we can talk." Clark pulled out the keys he had found and handed them to Justin. "If your friend Dean's trailer is here, too, maybe one of these keys opens it." "I'm sure one does. I have one--a key to his, I mean, *and* my own trailer, of course. It's not a real big one, but we're buds, you know? I can get you in, it's right here, it's the next one..." He turned, a sense of purpose overcoming his stuck-in- gee-whiz gear. They followed him. Walking next to Lois, Kay advised, "Terry often pins her key to whatever dress she's wearing, she's very conscientious about that." "'Terry'? That's her name?" "Yeah," Justin smiled back at her. "Terry, T-E-R-I, Teri Hatcher." "Oh, figures..." which to Clark meant Lois thought that all Hollywood types spelled their names in an unusual manner. She continued more politely, "We hadn't heard it yet..." She began feeling about the brown sash wrapped around her waist. "This is so tight..." She it took off and shook it. "Ah-ha! Here's a key!" "Your clothes do look tighter," Kay said carefully, "you are a little more... substantial than Teri." "I'm a size six usually, depending on the store, up to a ten sometimes, and this dress is about to squeeze me to death. Doesn't she care about what she wears? I mean, *this* to the newsroom? It's too short--and these heels! They're too high to do *any*thing useful in, let alone track down a breaking story. What size is she, anyway?" "A two, the last I heard." "Huh? What does she do, starve herself?" "No, not at all." "Then what does she eat--plankton?" "Lois..." She looked at Clark as though this was one of those things men would *never* understand. "I'm serious!" She looked back at Kay, who by now appeared astounded and speechless. "Does this Teri person work out?" "Oh, yes, she's in great shape and always on the go, she's just... slender." "Even though she eats constantly," Justin looked back and said. "She enjoys eating," Kay interpreted. "She just shovels it in sometimes. I've seen her do that myself. It's almost scary. We have to hide our own lunches." "Justin..." Lois looked down at the tight but stylish dress. "If you say so..." which meant she didn't put any stock in what the young man said at all. She looked up. "Speaking of which, Kay, does that chicken-and-leek soup offer still stand? I'm starving. Doing whatever we did to get here just takes it right out of a person, *believe* me." Justin caught Clark's eye. "She really does babble, doesn't she?" Lois reached forward to pinch him so Clark moderated the response he had considered ("You haven't heard anything yet!") to a "No, not always." "The offer still stands. This must mean you don't know how you got here..." "That's exactly what it means," Clark confirmed. "And we don't know where your friends are, either, but we'll find them." "We can't talk about this out here," Lois warned. "Whoever caused it might be watching us." Kay blinked as though she found that surprising to consider. Justin said, "Wow, yeah..." They could talk about it in Dean Cain's trailer (the man's name was on the door). The trailer was as sparsely furnished as Hatcher's, but Clark noticed right away that it offered a small bathroom with a shower and a bottle of liquid soap, and, out in the main room, a selection of looser-looking clothing. "I want to take a shower." "And *I* want to change clothes. I'm sure there's time. We can talk more easily if we're comfortable." Clark agreed and the necessary course became clear: they had to split up briefly. Clark assured Lois with a look that he would hear her if she so much as breathed the word "Trouble." Her look naturally replied, "Don't worry!" though she added an appreciative wink. Then she and Kay headed back toward Teri Hatcher's trailer, leaving behind an agreement to meet again in twenty minutes for a planning session. Justin remained, offering assistance, endless and boundless. His eager-as-a-puppy attitude almost made Clark laugh. It was also clear that the young man hoped to see more super stunts but didn't want Clark to realize it. Maybe, he thought, he'd feel like accommodating the desire once they figured out what had happened and were on the way to correcting things. There could be time for stunts then. He picked through Cain's clean clothes and chose among other things an extra-large plain white T-shirt, blue jeans and well worn but comfortable-looking Nikes. Justin commented on all the clothing, saying what Dean liked to wear each piece for. "Your friend sounds like an athlete." "Oh, he is, he's in great shape and he's really into sports and he's really good at most of them, except surfing, but he tries." "I see. Surfing can be difficult. Think about him some more, what he's like and what he likes to do, and when I come out of the shower we'll talk about him so I'll know how to imitate him if I have to." "That's a great idea! Hey, I'll go change, too, my trailer's just down there," he pointed in some as yet undeterminable direction. "Ah, unless you need help. Are you going to shower real fast? You know, like, superspeed?" Clark could easily imagine water flying everywhere. "Ah, no, I don't think there's enough room for all that movement." Besides, he preferred leisurely showers. But there probably wasn't enough water for that and he was mostly concerned with removing the make up and the goop in his hair. "And you feel free to change clothes, too. I'll probably still be here when you return." *** Upon entering Hatcher's trailer, Lois kicked off the annoying shoes. Then she and Kay went through the clothing they found in a small closet and came up with what Lois thought would be innocuous, unobtrusive, good to relax in clothing: a loose, comfortable blouse, baggy exercise pants and scuffed running shoes. "It looks like she does work out. These will probably fit me. Kay--do you mind if I call you that or is it Kathryn or Kathleen or...?" "It's K, and just the letter K, K Callan." That was odd... except it probably wasn't. Maybe she'd been duped into taking the unusual name. "It must be a Hollywood thing, huh?" "No, it's a family thing," she said as though she had been asked about this many times and still found it amusing. "I was K before I became an actress back in the 60s." "The 60s... what year is it now?" "1996. And in Metropolis?" "Oh, the same, and it's midsummer, but it looks like it's November here, if you have Thanksgiving in November, too." "We do." "Maybe if other things here are like they are at home, Clark and I won't have so much to get used to, though we'll figure this out quickly once we have a chance to think about it, so we won't be here very long. Oh, and we'll save your friends, too." "I'm glad to hear that..." "We save people all the time, it's part of the job. Now you said 'family'..." but before she could ease K onto into this line of questioning, Lois noticed herself in the mirror over the desk/dressing table and gasped. "I *have* to wash my face, this makeup is *awful!*" K smiled. "Now *that's* Hollywood. It's all for the cameras and the lighting. After you remove it, you might put on a moisturizer. Teri has some here on the desk and in the bathroom. I don't think she'll mind if you use it." Lois spotted a collection of bottles to the left of the mirror. What with the desert dryness of Southern California (compared to the high humidity of the east coast) and the added assault of the makeup, using moisturizers made sense. "Okay. I don't use much makeup usually, I don't have time for it, and I've only been in the desert, um, twice, following leads for stories and avoiding sand fleas and Gila Monsters and that kind of thing..." She headed into the tiny bathroom but called out. "You said the girls are away. Your daughters?" "Yes. I have two daughters and a son, but none of them can make it home for Thanksgiving this year." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that..." Though it could explain why the woman was here and not at home boiling or frying a turkey or whatever--no, *roasting* one, that's right. When the real Thanksgiving approached back in Metropolis, she and Martha were going to have a little meeting about that. She was, Lois figured, already ahead of the game, what with remembering the roasting angle. She found a washcloth, wet it, and squirted some scented soap on it from an expensive-looking bottle. She patted the cloth over her face to remove the makeup and began to feel better, fresher. She'd be looking like herself in no time. "And Mr. Callan?" "There is no 'Mr. Callan.'" "Oh." Lois noticed the matter-of-fact tone in the woman's voice. There must have been 'no Mr. Callan' for quite some time; the woman had probably answered as many questions about that as about her unique name. Lois looked around the corner. K was sitting at the desk, appearing more rested than before. The sight was comforting for some reason, and Lois did not want to ruffle the feelings of anyone who looked so much like Martha Kent. This realization made Lois feel a little guilty. "I'm snooping, aren't I? I'm sorry." "Oh, it doesn't bother me, but it must be an occupational hazard for you." Lois smiled. "You not only look like Martha, you sound like her, too." K looked thoughtful. "Thank you. I've always thought of her as an interesting character. To think that somewhere out there, in another dimension, she's a real person..." Another dimension, an alternate universe, yes... Why are these things always chasing after Clark and me? Lois sighed but covered it with a smile. "She's very real, like... like me..." She decided not to think about this for the moment, because Martha Kent and everyone else she and Clark knew were Somewhere Else... She concentrated instead on the immediate chore. Dimensions had to do with time, and time meant Tempus, and Tempus never hesitated to hurt anyone if it would hurt her or Clark. She'd have to watch out for these new friends. Then again, she hadn't heard that man's infuriating laugh yet, and it was well past time for him to put in an appearance ...if he was responsible for this. And if he's not? What have I done now to attract some nasty character? (continued) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 7 Nov 1997 18:04:38 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Margaret Brignell Subject: SwapMeet: Metropolis Part 6 of 16 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" "Cute, Cain, really cute." But Teri couldn't resist grinning back at him. His grin faded though as he realized they still had a problem, "But how are we going to know when she's actually on?" Teri frowned as she motioned him out of the chair and sat down. "I wonder if we could have it signal us when she comes on? Some programs do that, and we already heard this one beep. But we'd have to know which nick she was going to use, otherwise..." "She usually uses KCallan on IRC, or Danny. Why not set it up to signal on those, or KBCallan?" "Good idea. You are surprising sometimes." "Well, I'm not just another pretty face, you know." Dean grinned. Teri gave him an exasperated look. "I apologized for that." "No need to--you were right!" and he made a horrible grimace that made her laugh. "Give it up, Dean, you are *way* out of your league." Teri gave him one of her best silly faces in return, the kind that always gave him the giggles. However, his giggles ceased almost immediately when he felt his breathing become erratic. He hid the sudden change with a cough. He didn't want to scare Teri. He'd hoped that his improvement on the drive here meant his asthma wasn't acting up. Still, he'd be fine if he didn't try to do too much. He was pretty sure, anyway. He should probably try changing clothes real soon. He was definitely wearing the complete Suit underneath these business clothes. However, it didn't feel like the Spandex suit he wore for the show. It felt like a stronger but much thinner elastic material and that was probably the reason why it felt so tight. "Dean, do you think we've really become them?" Teri's expression had changed from silly to serious. "I mean, I know we work long hours, but I never thought it would drive both of us over the edge at the same time." He sat on a nearby chair and pushed his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'm not him, that's for sure. I can't see through walls, or fly, or any of that stuff." He felt both disappointed and relieved. Disappointed that he didn't have some of the super powers but relieved that he didn't have to fly. "So it's not that we've become them, it's, oh I don't know, like we've switched places. We're still us, but we're in their world." "So does that mean they're in ours?" "Could be." He shrugged. "No matter what's happened, we have to figure out how to reverse it." His desire to see the positive in all of this came to the fore. "You know..." he looked at her and said very carefully, well aware he could be stepping on thin ice, "it *could* be... kind of... fun..." "Fun? Fun!! Are you completely insane? We could be trapped here for the rest of our lives! What about Jon, what about my animals, what about...." Dean touched her gently on the arm. "It's okay, really, we have a link to our world and maybe K will be on real soon. We have to think positive." "Right...positive...got it." Teri grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. "Now what?" "So now we wait. I can go change, I need to get out of this costume, but then what do you think we should do until K comes on?" "We could try hunting up the Yellow Pages to find a drug store for you," she said astutely. "You don't feel good, you can't hide that from me." "Okay, okay! There's probably a phone book around here somewhere." Dean started to rummage through the piles of papers on the desk. "And another thing, I'm hungry!" "Hungry? You just finished eating a whole-wheat honey donut!" "That was hours ago! Maybe they have *real* food around here! Not that pseudo stuff we get in the house set at the studio." "They..." he paused in his hunt for the Yellow Pages and raising his eyebrows to indicate a great idea, "the fans should see you eat... I know," he looked at the computer, "I'll tell them you're eating right now!" Teri pulled the laptop away from him. "Don't you dare touch this!" and lowered it onto the desk. Suddenly, the phone in front of her started to ring. "Dean! How can it be ringing? We're online." "They must have two phone lines, they *are* reporters." "You answer it," both said together. Hesitating a little, Dean picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" "Hi, honey, I'm on my way from the airport. I got an earlier flight so I called the Planet to let you know and Perry said you'd had to take Lois home 'cause she wasn't feeling well. Is she okay?" "Er, yeah, s.. she just has a...a headache." He saw Teri raise her eyebrows at this lame excuse. He coughed politely and followed up with, "She'll be fine." "Oh, Clark, is she still getting the headaches? Did the doctor give you any idea what was causing them? Is she... What am I saying, I can talk to her myself as soon as I get there." "Get here?" His sense of panic revved into high gear. He wasn't sure who was on the other end of the line, but she sounded an awful lot like K *and* Perry had said Clark's parents were going to visit. Could this be Clark Kent's mother? He was trying to persuade himself that he had an overactive imagination when the woman at the other end of the line responded. "Yes, honey. Now don't you worry, you don't have to pick me up, I'm already in a cab. You take good care of Lois until I get there. See you in a few minutes." Omigod, it *had* to be *her*. He stayed focused long enough to say, "Yes, see you..." and then slowly lowered the phone, realized he'd missed the cradle and then corrected for that. Feeling a little stunned at this turn of events, he faced Teri and said, "I think that was his Mom. Perry did say something about his parents visiting. She's in a cab on the way from the airport, and she'll be here in a few minutes!" "Oh, great, now what do we do? We can't possibly fool his parents." "Why not? We're actors. We act." Teri rolled her eyes. "And what's this about me having a headache? What kind of lame excuse is that? The amnesia thing you came up with is better." "But it was a good guess. She said Lois has been having headaches, and no one knows why. We could use that as a cover for any bloopers we make. You because you're 'sick' and me because I'm so concerned about Lois' health." At Teri's skeptical look he repeated, "It could work. We *have* to try." "Well, if I'm going to pretend to be Lois I guess I'd better make myself presentable." Teri rooted around in Lois' purse for a comb and mirror and came across a notebook. She opened it and frowned. "Do you read shorthand? Mine's not very good." "Nope, never had a reason to learn. What's it say?" "I can't read much. There's some mention of Dr. Klein and something about a ViWa something-or-other and a Clive--, I can't make out the last name. Not terribly helpful." Teri tossed the notebook back into the purse. Not finding what she wanted in the purse she headed for the bathroom. Dean followed her up the stairs and leaned on the door frame as they continued their discussion while she combed her hair. "Okay, so what do we do when his mother gets here? We should coordinate our story. You should lie down in the bedroom." When he saw that Teri was about to protest he continued, "Remember, you're supposed to have a headache. I'll get into some casual clothes. I need to change now, anyway. I don't know what this suit is made of, but I feel like I've been shrink-wrapped." Dean turned to go up to the bedroom to change. They both jumped at the sound of the knock on the front door. "That can't be her!--We're not ready! What are we going to do?" "You go lie down on the bed and I'll try to cover." Dean indicated the bedroom over his shoulder with his thumb, and slowly walked downstairs prolonging his progress to the front door, and waiting to open it until he could no longer see her from the bottom of the steps. "Oh, honey. I'm so glad to see you." A woman who looked like K, except for the plastic frames on her glasses, flung her arms around him and pecked him on the cheek. "Your Dad is so disappointed that he couldn't come. You have no..." She stopped, frowned and stepped back, looking him up and down as if he were some kind of bug. "You're not my son! Who *are* you?" "I..." Dean mentally whacked himself. Come on Dean, you're an actor. Act! "And where's Lois? What have you done with her?" "She's in the bedroom. She's...fine." Martha obviously wasn't buying it and strode through the house and up to the master bedroom. "Lois, honey, it's me, Martha." On seeing Teri, Martha gasped. "Oh my god! What has this monster *done* to you? You're so *thin*!" Like an avenging angel, Martha whirled around and jabbed Dean in the chest. "Just who are you and why are you here? What have you done to Clark? When was the last time you fed my daughter-in-law? And if you don't tell me the whole truth I'll...I'll call for Superman!" Teri jumped up to grab K--Martha--by the arm and try to reassure her. "It's okay. He's not starving me. I eat lots. I just metabolize food faster than other people." Martha pulled out of Teri's grip and paled. "*You're* not Lois! Who are you?" Teri shook her head. "I'm...a friend, believe me." Dean helped Martha to sit in the nearby chair, insisting when she claimed she didn't want to sit down. "We should try to explain. It's not something we really understand. But it *is* the truth." Martha searched Dean's face. "You look almost exactly like him, except for the mole on your upper lip and the scar on your forehead. You're not quite as large as Clark, I don't think, but that's not immediately obvious. You sound a lot like him, you had *me* fooled on the phone." She searched his face for more signs of how he was different from her Clark. "Are you a clone?" Teri and Dean said firmly and together "No!" "Then who, or what, are you?" "I'm Dean Cain and this is Teri Hatcher. We're actors." "So someone hired you to pretend to be Lois and Clark? Who? Lex Luthor? If you're helping *him* I'll call for Superman...now!" "No, no. Not Lex Luthor. It's not like that at all. We work for December 3rd Productions and Warner Brothers. We're the stars in the TV show 'Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman'. Teri plays--well, I guess it's obvious..." "Obvious? You look like Clark, true, I mean without his glasses and he and Superman are friends but I've never heard of a TV show about their friendship..." Martha barely stopped for breath. "But Clark is Superman. Clark is who he is, Superman is what he does. That's what the show is all about. I play..." At the sudden change in colour of Martha's face, Dean figured that hadn't come out quite right and putting his arm around her shoulders asked "Can I get you a glass of water?" Teri got up and went into the bathroom to get it. "I'll be fine...so you know the truth...." Martha took a deep breath. "Are you trying to tell me that you play both Clark and Superman, and everyone knows Clark *is* Superman--and this show is on *television*! I've never seen it! Where is it shown?" "All over the world. It airs on Sunday nights here in the US and in Canada, and gets delayed airings in other countries like Australia and Great Britain." Martha took another deep breath. She appeared to be trying to grasp what they were telling her and then Dean could see by her absorbed expression that her thoughts had arrived at a possible explanation. "I talked about alternate realities to Clark when he had to deal with the clone of himself. He told me not to get too sci-fi on him. Is that it? Are you from an alternate reality?" Teri brought a glass of water from the bathroom for Martha to drink. "We don't know but that would make sense." Martha frowned. "How did you get here, and where's my Clark and Lois?" Dean shrugged. "We don't know that, either." "Okay, let's start at the beginning, you tell me what you know. Maybe we can reverse this thing." "I was thinking of getting something to eat." Teri interjected. "Let's raid the fridge and we'll fill you in on what we know." ****************************** Margaret Brignell brignell@capitalnet.com Ottawa, Canada %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% My fanfic now available at: http://www.capitalnet.com/~brignell/ ******************************