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A quick Superman ficlet. It's based on an idea of poisonivory, but instead of funny it turned out, well, weird. I take the blame.

Nota Bene: I don't claim it's well written, but it's not nearly as badly written as it will seem to you at first. *g*


Not here, she whispered in my ear. In your apartment. I synthesized what I hoped would be an adequate facial configuration to represent badly disguised embarrassed surprise, as per Clark Kent's personality profile.

Lois Lane smiled and walked to an elevator, not waiting to see if I would follow her. I delayed for the few seconds I estimated would take Clark Kent to realize that this was a ruse designed to fool the ex-KGB agents she suspected were monitoring both the Daily Planet and her apartment, and then run clumsily behind her. I took care to simulate a nervous blush during the ride down, and fumbled thirty-four percent above the Clark Kent baseline while driving to my apartment and failing to react at her distracted flirting. I detected nobody following consistent with Earth's technological range, but as this information wasn't available to Clark Kent, I did not share this fact with Lois Lane.

In compliance with the Clark Kent profile, I let Lois Lane enter the apartment first. This proved to be a mistake, as she saw before I did Kal-El's nearly-naked body lying on the couch. Superman! she said. A quick biological scan I performed while standing by the door ascertained that he was extremely tired but otherwise healthy -a result no doubt of his recent mission outside Earth's solar system- and that he had probably returned to Clark Kent's apartment in a semi-conscious state.

Lois Lane approached Kal-El quickly.

I acted as per the standard Clark Kent behavioral pattern. I... I don't... What is he doing here? Is he fine? She directed at me a quick scowl. Relax, Clark. I figured out about... I saw a fleetingly pained expression about you two. It's fine. At least now I know why you always get to interview him alone.

My behavioral model of Kal-El indicated that there was a sixty-five percent chance that he would choose to reveal his identity at this point. But I had been tasked to replace Clark Kent and keep the illusion of a separate identity, and Lois Lane's assumption was an useful asset to fulfill this role.

I rushed to Kal-El's side, cradling his face with my hand. Seven percent above baseline clumsiness, a sixty-eight percent expression of love.

He will be fine, I told Lois Lane. And then we waited for him to wake up.

.finis.

Comments

__marcelo
Nov. 6th, 2008 03:24 am (UTC)
:D :D Thanks! Glad you liked it.

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cass, can you not
__marcelo
__marcelo

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