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The Moaning After	By : Dandello2000 Category: G through L > Lois & Clark Views: 7315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series (Lois & Clark) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Moaning After
- 1
Author's Notes: Pheromone My Lovely was written by Deborah Joy Levine
When Lois Lane woke up she came to several, virtually simultaneous, realizations: 1: she had one of the worst headaches of her life; 2: she was naked in a strange bed; and 3: not only was she naked in a strange bed, she wasn't alone in it.
She groaned as she rolled onto one elbow to determine who, exactly, she was in bed with. She found herself staring into the face of her writing partner, Clark Kent. His glasses were on the bed stand and there was something terribly familiar about that…
She groaned again and dropped her head on the pillow as memories of the previous night came flooding back. How she’d decided she wanted Clark as a lover, dressed up as Scheherazade, tied him to a chair and had her way with him. Somewhere in the muddled mess of her memory was Superman.
Superman. They’d made love while floating in the air.
“Lois?” Clark’s soft voice penetrated her pounding skull. “Are you okay?”
“I feel like I have the worst hangover in the history of the world,” she managed to get out. She felt the mattress move as he rolled out of bed. She opened her eyes just enough to see his bare backside as he bent to retrieve his sweatpants from the floor. He had an absolutely gorgeous backside. She felt a little disappointed when her view disappeared under the pants.
“I’ll get you some water and aspirin,” Clark promised as he grabbed his glasses and headed out of the bedroom.
Lois struggled to sit up and discovered her head, oddly enough, pounded a little less in that position. At least she wasn't nauseous. She went over her recollections of the previous evening. Had she really come over to his apartment with the intention of making him have sex with her? Had she really done it? She was almost afraid to ask. And how did Superman fit in with all this?
She climbed out of Clark’s bed and began to look for something she could wear. The Scheherazade costume wasn’t going to cut it this morning. She rummaged through Clark’s dresser and found a sweatshirt that was long enough to hide the fact that she didn’t have any panties with her.
Clark met her on her way to his kitchen. He handed her the aspirin and a glass of water and she took them gratefully.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. Worry was written across his face as he watched her swallow the water and painkiller.
“Better,” she told him. “At least I don’t feel like I tried to hit every bar in Metropolis. Just half of them.”
“But we didn’t have anything to drink last night, either of us,” Clark told her.
“I know… At least I think I know… Oh my God… did I lose my mind?”
“I don’t think so,” Clark said gently. “I think you were drugged. Maybe everybody in the newsroom was, considering how weird everybody’s been acting the past two days.” Clark gave her a sympathetic look. It didn’t make her feel any better. “I’ve got some coffee going,” he told her. “Maybe you’ll feel better after…?”
She nodded, afraid to say anything more. She turned and walked back into the living room. She stopped short at the sight of the wooden straight chair she had bound Clark to. It was little more than kindling.
‘Oh Superman,’ she remembered saying as Clark exploded inside her following her own incredible orgasm. They had been floating above the chair. They had been floating above the chair. Clark was Superman and they had been floating above the chair. She had taken advantage of Superman.
-o-o-o-
Clark refilled Lois’s coffee cup, savoring her scent and the idea that she was naked beneath his sweatshirt. He hadn’t needed x-ray vision to know it, either. When she reached for the sweetener, the bottom edge of the shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal her bottom. It was all he could do to keep her from realizing exactly how turned on he was.
“Are you feeling better?” he finally asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Are you going to talk to me?”
“No,” she said. Then she added: “I am so humiliated.”
“Lois, I told you, you weren't yourself,” Clark said softly.
She seemed to ponder his statement as she sipped her coffee. “Did I really do the Dance of the Seven Veils?”
He nodded.
“With you tied to a chair with bondage tape?”
He nodded again.
“And I… and we…?”
“Yes.”
“Did we end up floating over the chair?”
He gulped. She remembers that. “Yes.”
“Oh God, you must hate me,” she moaned.
“Lois, please. Let's forget about last night,” Clark said. “We have to find this Miranda. We have to find out what's in this stuff, and how and why she's using it.”
“You want to forget about last night? Was I so awful you want to forget it happened?” Lois seemed horrified at the suggestion.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Clark said trying to backpedal. “Last night was wonderful, unforgettable… But we have to…”
She looked like she was ready to cry.
“Lois, please don’t cry. Last night was incredible. You were incredible. I never even imagined it could be like that,” he told her earnestly. It didn’t seem to help.
“Clark, I took something precious from you,” Lois whispered. “There’s obviously nothing wrong with you, so if you were, you know, then you were saving yourself for that special person and I took that away from you.”
He put his hand out and caressed her cheek. She looked so miserable. “Lois, maybe I was saving myself for that special person…” he began. The tears that had been welling in her eyes began to overflow. “But maybe that special person is you?”
“You’re not just saying that, are you?” she asked.
“I know you probably won’t believe me,” Clark said. “But I love you. I love your fire, your spirit, your drive… I love they way you look, the way you smell, the way you feel.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
He moved closer and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m not just saying that. But I will admit I was a little surprised at how uninhibited you could be. I mean, who would expect prim and proper Lois Lane to be such a tigress in the bedroom?”
That seemed to mollify her a little. At least she stopped crying.
“We really were floating?”
He nodded.
“That means you’re…” She made a sideways motion with her hand like flying.
He nodded again. “How upset are you that I didn’t…?”
She managed a chuckle. “I wouldn’t have told me either. And it certainly explains why you weren’t chasing after Rehalia or Cat.”
“There’s only one woman I ever wanted to chase after, and she’s sitting right here.”
She scooted closer to him. “So what do we do now?”
“We need to track down this Miranda person and her poison before she does anything worse,” Clark said. He knew that wasn’t what she was referring to, but an investigation seemed a little safer subject at the moment.
Lois wasn't going to be deterred. “I meant, about us, about this…” She waved one hand around to indicate his apartment, the two of them, the broken chair.
“What do you want to do?” Clark asked. She wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of the sweat shirt. The hem of the shirt rode up once again, exposing the triangle of brown curls between her legs. She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t mind.
She sniffled a little then smiled at him. “You know, it felt really good last night.”
“Oh yes…” Clark felt the butterflies in his gut start to dance the lambada as Lois began to run her fingers down his chest.
“And I haven’t had a man since Dupré the Depraved left for Gotham. Well, except for last night,” Lois said. “I mean, I’ve dated since he left, but there wasn’t any spark, no chemistry. Lucy said I had interviews instead of dates and didn’t know the difference. She said I was looking for a superman. And then you came along.”
“Superman?”
She shook her head. “Clark Kent.”
Lois sidled even closer to him, running her hand under the waistband of his sweats. She stretched up to capture his mouth. She tasted like coffee as she delicately explored his mouth. Emboldened, he ran one hand up under the sweatshirt to one of her breasts. She moaned softly at his touch. With his other hand he reached around to her buttocks, then down her thigh, lifting her leg and bringing her closer. She moved her other leg so she was straddling him, facing him much as she’d done the night before.
He moved his hand under her, to her nether lips, exploring the moist folds, the hard nub of her clitoris. She moved against his hand, asking without words for more. Her kisses began more urgent as he explored her with his fingers. She was warm and wet.
“Lois?” he managed to murmur.
“I bet the bed’s more comfortable,” she murmured in response.
“I know it is…” Clark shifted to lift her off his lap, swinging her into his arms so he could carry her into the bedroom. She melted into his arms.
The phone rang. Clark looked over at it.
“Ignore it,” Lois ordered.
“It’s probably Perry wondering where we are,” Clark said. “We are late to work.”
“I’m taking a mental health day.”
“I don’t think we can do that,” Clark said, setting her down so he could answer the phone. She pouted at him and flounced off to the bedroom, her naked backside swaying as she walked, taunting him, seducing him.
He tore his eyes away and picked up the phone handset. “Kent…”
“Where the blue blazes are you?” Perry White’s voice grated out over the speaker.
“Well…” Clark began. “Lois and I had a tough night…”
“You had a tough night?” Perry yelled. “This place is a shambles and my two best people aren’t here!”
“Um, we have a lead on what happened and who did it,” Clark said. “We think the newsroom was exposed to some sort of drug or poison. That’s why everybody was acting so… so…”
“Nuts? Cracked? Hornier than a hound dog in heat?” Perry suggested.
“Uh, yeah.” Clark said. “Lois and I were heading out right now to check it out.”
“You do that,” Perry agreed, hanging up.
“Clark, wouldn’t you rather do this?” Lois called to him from his bedroom.
“Yes,” Clark said, walking into his bedroom. The sweatshirt had been tossed to the floor. Lois was lying on top of the covers, one hand tweaking her breasts, watching him through half-closed eyes, one leg bent seductively. Her other hand was running up one thigh.
“But if we don’t track down this Miranda person…” he continued.
“Tell you what,” Lois said. “You scratch my itch and then I’ll help you track down this Miranda…”
“It’s a deal,” Clark agreed. He pulled of his sweatpants and dropped them with the shirt on the floor.
She held her arms out to him. “Come ‘ere, big boy.”
-o-o-o-
The night before was still a little sketchy in Lois’s memory, but this morning she was fully conscious and aware. And one thing she was fully aware of was that her body responded to Clark in a way it had responded to no other man.
She teased him by caressing herself, inviting him without words to join her on the bed. He shrugged out of the sweatpants, his erection standing up proudly. How she could possibly have forgotten how magnificent he was, even in the fog of the previous night, boggled her mind.
Last night she had been the aggressor. Today, it was his turn. She laid back and waited as he settled over her, kissing her neck, spreading her legs, feeling her moistness with his fingers before sliding in.
She moaned softly and he hesitated. “You won’t hurt me,” she assured him. “Earth girls are tougher than they look.”
That seemed to mollify him and he began thrusting into her, finding a rhythm that worked for both of them. She rocked with the rhythm, losing herself in the sensations of having him inside her, his hands on her hips as they rode together to new heights of ecstasy.
Again, she climaxed first and then felt him shudder as he came. She wondered a little, in the part of her brain that wasn't fully engaged in wringing every bit of pleasure out of feeling him in her, how he managed to do that. The guys she’d known hadn’t been able to control their orgasms and hadn’t seemed to care. Clark was different from all of them in so many ways.
After a moment Clark rolled off of her. “You’re really incredible, you know that?”
She grinned at him. “I certainly don’t mind you repeating it.”
His grin back at her faded. “We have to go to work.”
“I know,” she said. She didn’t want to. She wanted to spend the day with him, spend the day having mad monkey sex with him. She wanted to explore their limits, explore his body as he explored hers.
Lois sighed and sat up. “I'm going home to get dressed. I'll meet you back here in one hour,” she announced, getting off the bed. “And don't even think of making me wait.”
-o-o-o-
It was just before ten when Lois and Clark arrived at Miranda Miller’s shop on Union. The gilt sign on the door proclaimed the shop to be ‘Scents by Miranda.’ Bells on the door handle chimed as the door opened and Lois and Clark walked in. The shop was in a standard glass and brick store-front, walls lined with glass display cabinets filled with antique perfume bottles and atomizers. Other displays showed off incense, soaps, candles, and oils. Behind the sales register, set against the back wall, was a stainless steel table with a microscope, several glass vials with stoppers and a box filled with ornate blue perfume bottles nestled in shredded paper. Above the table was a wall-mounted cabinet a lock on it. A curtain covered what appeared to be the doorway to the back room.
Lois and Clark looked around the shop for a few minutes, waiting for the proprietor to appear. The front door had been unlocked. Finally a woman appeared through the curtain. She was blue-eyed with swept back blonde hair. It was hard to tell her age – she was slender and her face was flawlessly made up, almost like a Barbie doll. She wore a full skirt and a gypsy blouse with gold necklaces and large gold hoop earrings.
The woman smiled broadly at them, teeth even and white. “Looking for something in particular?” she asked.
“Uh, no. Not really,” Lois responded. Behind her, Clark was looking at the bath oils and soaps, reading the ingredient labels, smelling the scents. He looked around the building using x-ray vision to check out the backroom and basement for anything unusual. The backroom was being used for storage. The basement had an ornate stainless steel and copper still. Clark guessed it was for distilling the ingredients Miller used in her business.
“A gift? Something for a friend whose love has soured?” the woman was asking Lois. She went to one of the locked cabinets and opened it with a key from her skirt pocket. “Try my Jungle Passion. Pure white petals, picked from a flower grown only in Micronesia.” She took one of the ornate perfume bottles from the case and showed it to Lois. “I have a wide selection. A scent for every occasion.”
Clark stepped over to the cardboard box and, using super speed slipped one of the bottles into his jacket pocket.
“You make all the perfumes?” Clark asked.
“Yes, of course. I was trained as a chemist,” she said. “Many perfumers are. In fact the goal of a fine perfumer is to cause a 'chemical reaction,'” She gave him a puzzled look, drawing her eyebrows together, the wrinkles marring the almost unnatural smoothness of her forehead. “Have we met before?”
“I think we have. I'm Clark Kent. This is Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet,” Clark said.
“Oh, yes,” Miranda said. “I was there, yesterday, sampling the competition's new fragrance, and trying out one of my new ones as well.”
“Yours had an interesting odor,” Clark told her. “Animal based?”
The woman seemed impressed. “You have a remarkable olfactory sense, Mr. Kent. Yes, that particular perfume is quite rare.”
“What do you call it?” he asked.
“I call it, simply, 'Revenge.'”
“Can you tell us the ingredients?” Lois asked.
“Come now, Ms. Lane. Surely you don't expect me to give away all my secrets?”
Lois pushed in front of Clark to stand nose to nose with the woman. “Look. Let's cut the niceties. Whatever witches’ brew you sprayed us with made half the newsroom go looney tunes in love.”
Miranda simply smiled. Lois, already annoyed, moved over to infuriated.
“It's not funny. People were hurt by what you did, humiliated... Jimmy – a friend of mine – almost got killed.”
“You're not suggesting I had anything to do with that, are you? I just sell perfume,” Miranda said smoothly.
“Perfume that makes people crazy,” Lois retorted.
“You know, Ms. Lane, animals are ruled by their sense of smell. We humans think we've evolved beyond that. I'm not so sure. Even so, I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I doubt that very much. I intend to make a full report to the police. Not planning on leaving town, are you?”
As Miranda and Lois sparred, Clark focused on the older woman’s vital signs. Her heart was racing.
“Forgive me, Ms. Lane, but the unfounded suspicions of two reporters hardly qualifies for a criminal investigation. Where I go or what I do is frankly, none of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Lois was still fuming as they headed back to her car.
“She's lying,” Lois announced.
“I know. Her pulse rate was over one-fifty,” Clark told her.
Lois stopped and turned to face him. “How do you know that…? Never mind.” She started to the car again. “You know, I could get used to having you as my partner. Just so long as you remember that I’m top banana.”
He leaned close to her ear. “I’m pretty sure you enjoyed me on top this morning.”
“Keep that up Farm Boy and we’ll be arrested for indecency.”
He backed off a little.
“So, we know she did it,” Lois continued. “How can we prove it?”
He grinned at her. “Let’s stop at STAR Labs on the way to the office.”
-o-o-o-
“Pheromones. Never heard of 'em,” Lois complained as they entered the Daily Planet newsroom. She was reading from the preliminary report STAR Labs put together on the perfume Clark had given them to analyze.
“Sure you have. Pheromones. 'A chemical substance secreted by animals which produces specific responses to other individuals of the same species,'” he quoted.
“What'd you do, memorize the dictionary?” Lois asked.
“I'm a speed reader,” Clark said with a grin. “Along with a number of other talents you already know about.”
“I can get used to this,” Lois said. She turned back to the report. “Luckily, the stuff wears off within 48 hours.”
“Depending on a person's metabolic rate,” Clark reminded her.
“I still don't get it,” Lois said. “I mean, Dr. Friedman said this stuff shouldn't work unless you're already physically attracted to the person. Then, it just over-rides our normal restraint.”
“Right. There has to be some animal magnetism there to begin with. All this substance does is inhibit that part of your brain that acts as an intellectual defense mechanism, leaving the person helpless to control themselves.”
Lois thought about it for a moment. “But it doesn’t explain why… I mean, you should be immune, shouldn’t you? And the stuff’s worn off, so…?”
“So why do we both want to go at it like mad monkeys?” Clark completed for her.
She nodded.
“I have a theory,” Clark said. “I think if the attraction is mutual and if it’s consummated while under the influence of the drug, then I think it’s like imprinting. We’re ‘locked in’ on each other. I can’t even imagine being with any one but you.”
“Neither can I,” Lois admitted. “I can remember being with Paul and Claude, but I have absolutely no interest in them now. And what I thought I had with them just pales in comparison with what we have now. I mean, I want to jump your bones so bad right now.”
“Maybe we can find a nice quiet place with a good lock after we’ve finished our research,” Clark suggested.
“You’re on,” Lois said as the elevator doors opened onto the newsroom floor. Staffers were hauling away the hearts and flowers decorations that had been put up the day before.
“I guess it's worn off here,” Clark said.
Lois looked around the newsroom. There was still something off. She nodded toward Jimmy seated at his desk looking despondent. “I'm not so sure,” she said.
They walked into Perry’s office. He was seated at his desk, his head in his hands. He looked up as they entered. Lois gasped when she saw his face. There was a white bandage across his nose.
“Chief, what happened?” Clark asked in obvious horror.
“Does it hurt?” Lois asked.
“Only when I laugh, although there's very little danger of that happening in the near future,” Perry told them. He pushed several sheets of paper toward them. Clark picked one up. Lois skimmed it over his arm.
“... sexual harassment... Rehalia...” Clark read aloud.
“That's not the worst part,” Perry said. “Alice threw me out, called me a 'no good hound dog.' Now I'm livin' at the heartbreak hotel.”
“Chief, you have a defense,” Lois said. “A complete defense.”
“We found out that a research chemist sprayed a pheromone compound on us...”
“Pherawhat?” Perry asked.
“Pheromone,” Lois corrected.
“It made all of us fall wildly in love,” Clark added. “Completely beyond our control.”
Perry straightened up. “Well, that'll take care of the lawsuit. But not Alice. She'll never have me back.”
“Fight for her, Chief,” Lois advised.
“Shower her with presents. Write her poems. Put her on a golden pedestal. Tell her you worship her,” Clark added.
Perry brightened for a moment then sagged back in his chair. “She'll never buy it.” He laid his head back in his hands. Lois sighed and headed to her desk, Clark following.
“Jimmy, did you get that research I asked for?” Clark asked.
Jimmy roused himself from his own misery enough to hand Clark several sheets of paper. “The bio on Doctor Miranda Miller.”
“Doctor Miller?”
“Ph.D. in biochemistry and neurobiology from M.I.T.,” Jimmy explained. “Her research area was pheromones. And guess who was funding her research… Luthor Industries.”
“He funds half the scientists in Metropolis,” Lois said. “He probably doesn't even know who she is. But I'll ask him about her when I call him.”
“And why are you calling Luthor?” Clark asked. There was a touch of something odd in his voice. Jealousy?
“I was supposed to have dinner with him this evening,” Lois said. “But I have other plans for tonight that don’t include having dinner with another man.”
“I’m not sure how he’ll take being turned down on such short notice,” Clark told her.
“I told him yesterday my heart was already taken,” Lois said with a shrug. “If he doesn’t like it, that’s his problem.”
“Lois,” Clark began. He dropped his voice. “Luthor is dangerous. I know you don’t believe me, but he’s threatened Superman more than once.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lois asked, keeping her own voice low.
“I did try to warn you even if I couldn’t give you any details,” Clark said.
“But if he’s been threatening Superman…”
"Lois, think about it,” Clark said. “Why would Superman tell Clark Kent and Lois Lane that Luthor’s been making threats against him?”
Lois thought about it for a long moment. It was true that Clark had tried to warn her against getting too close to Luthor, even if he hadn’t given her any concrete reasons.
She came to a decision. “I’m going to go ahead and call him and let him know I’m cancelling dinner and why. That should also give me a reason to ask him about Miranda Miller. And then… I know this great little pasta place not far from my apartment.”
“Maybe I don’t want to wait that long,” Clark told her.
The look in his eyes sent the butterflies in her belly dancing once again. She didn’t want to wait either. “They deliver. And there’s always the copy machine room and the store room.”
Clark peered over the top of his glasses in the direction of the copy machine room. Lois saw the color climb into his cheeks and guessed the cause. She knew the copy machine was broken and the repair man had been called. Cat Grant should have been in the newsroom and wasn’t. It was a logical assumption that Cat was the reason for Clark’s embarrassment.
“Uh, the copy machine room is busy,” Clark managed to say. “I guess it’s the store room then.”
“After I talk to Lex,” Lois said, running a finger up his tie. “And then… well, the store room has a lock, too.”
-o-o-o-
Lex Luthor looked down at the phone in his hand. He wasn't sure if he was stunned or disappointed.
“A problem, sir?” Nigel St. John asked.
“Miss Lane won’t be coming to dinner,” Luthor told him. St. John cocked an eyebrow at him and Luthor continued. “Miranda’s little experiment at the Daily Planet has had some unexpected side effects. It seems Miss Lane and Mister Kent are an ‘item’ thanks to Miranda’s potion.”
“If I may say so, sir, Miss Lane wasn’t up to your usual standards.”
“She was a challenge, Nigel,” Luthor said. “She was also a prize to be wooed away from my nemesis, Superman. And now, even though the drug has worn off, she is in thrall to Kent. I am nothing more than a ‘friend’.”
“It merely proves that she was not worthy of you, sir.”
“Yes,” Luthor agreed. “But I had been so looking forward to bending her to my will. And now Miranda’s drug has beaten me to the punch. Lois is ‘addicted’ to someone else.”
“Doctor Miller will be here at five,” St. John reminded him.
“Yes… Perhaps there is something that can be salvaged from this.”
-o-o-o-
“Well?” Clark asked as soon as Lois hung up the phone.
“Well, he took it fairly well,” Lois said. “And he is familiar with Doctor Miller’s work. According to Lex, they cut her funding when her research into creating a ‘make love not war’ gas for non-lethal riot control didn’t pan out.”
“Based on what we’ve seen here,” Clark said, waving his hand to indicate the entire newsroom. “She was closer than they realized. I wonder what Luthor was planning to do with it?”
"Maybe I cancelled my dinner with him too quickly?" Lois suggested.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Clark murmured, moving closer to her. “Did I tell you I’m a very jealous man?”
“Jealous? You?”
“Oh yes.” He breathed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
“Maybe we should take this to the storeroom,” Lois suggested breathlessly.
“Excellent idea.”
As anticipated, the storeroom was unoccupied. Clark locked the door behind them then turned his attentions back to Lois. It occurred to her, not for the first time that day, that it was good that she’d chosen to wear a skirt. Not only that, but she wanted to see Clark’s reaction when he realized she was wearing old fashioned hose with a garter belt. There was something inherently sexy about a garter belt and silk stockings.
She wasn't disappointed. He was on his knees in front of her, running his hands up under her skirt. He grinned when he discovered she wasn’t wearing pantyhose and gently pulled down her panties. She kicked them off. She was ready for him. Her juices were threatening to run down her legs.
Clark hitched her skirt up to her waist and began kissing her belly, moving down to her cleft. Her knees felt weak and she leaned against one of the shelving units.
“Where did you learn to do that?” she managed to get out.
“I had a good teacher,” Clark murmured.
“Oh? Remind me to send them a thank you note…”
He chuckled and this breath tickled against her skin. “You don’t have to. I’m already thanking her…”
With that, she felt his hand go between her legs and one finger, then another, entered her, tickling her G-spot.
“Take me,” she ordered, barely able to speak.
Clark pulled away his hand and she moaned in disappointment. Then she felt his hands on her thighs, lifting her. She settled onto his turgid member with a sigh, wrapping her legs around him, her back against the shelving.
No one else had ever made her feel so good. It didn’t even matter that they were doing it in the dusty storeroom, or that at anytime someone might realize the door was locked and open it with a key. In fact, the touch of danger simply made it more urgent, more exciting.
Claude had never taken her in the storeroom. He had disliked the dust and the smells of old paper and ink. He hadn’t wanted to risk getting his suit dirty.
Clark on the other hand…
She felt his mouth on hers. His kisses were urgent, demanding. He thrust inside her, a pile-driver of searing pleasure. Her back rubbed against the shelving. Some small part of her brain recognized she would probably end up with bruises down her back, but she didn’t care. Was it love or lust? She didn’t care about that either. The man of her dreams was inside her, loving her thoroughly, fucking her hard.
She threw her head back and moaned softly as her entire body shuddered in ecstasy. Clark thrust a few more times and she felt him shudder as well.
“Oh God…” she murmured.
“Lois, are you okay?” Clark was still holding her up. His forehead was creased with worry.
“I’m more than okay,” she responded dreamily. “I’m super.”
They both started to giggle as he set her on her feet. Clark stuffed himself back together as Lois looked around for something to clean herself up with. Her juices, and his, were running down her legs. She spotted an open box of tissues and grabbed several sheets. After a moment, the most egregious evidence of their lovemaking was on the tissues. She pulled down her skirt and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles.
Clark took the tissues and opened the storeroom window. He balled up the paper and threw it out the window. Lois saw it vaporize in midair.
“No need to leave incriminating evidence,” Clark said with a cheeky grin.
“You don’t think the two of us looking like we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the storage room won’t look incriminating?”
Clark chuckled as he picked up a handful of pens and notepads. “Well, we could ask for a couple weeks off so we can run off to Reno and then I was thinking we could spend some time in a tropical paradise, clothing optional…”
“Why, Mister Kent was that a proposal?”
“If it was, what would you say?” His eyes glittered behind his glasses.
“I don’t see a ring.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She sighed. “Clark, you know all my previous relationships have been disasters on a national scale, if not a continental one. But you’re my best friend. And…”
“And you’re afraid if we make that sort of commitment, we may stop being friends?” Clark asked.
She nodded. “I thought I was in love with Superman. But he’s bigger than life, like a rock star or a movie star. He was safe because he would never ask me for anything. He would never make a commitment and I would never ask him to. You’re a lot scarier. And it’s just possible I may be madly in love with you.”
“But… we need to take it a little slower?” Clark asked.
She nodded again, glad that he wasn't making this harder than it needed to be. The sex was great, but was it enough?
“Maybe we can go on some real dates,” Clark suggested.
“Like we go to dinner and not talk about the story we’re working on?” Lois asked.
“Or we go to a movie and I don’t disappear during the scary parts?”
“That may require more bondage tape,” Lois said with a laugh.
The door knob rattled. “Guys,” Jimmy said. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing, but there’s a call for Clark from a Doctor Friedman. He says it’s urgent.”
-o-o-o-
“Well?” Lois demanded as soon as Clark hung up the phone. He sat down on the corner of his desk as he tried to understand what Friedman had told him.
“The DEA has been called in on this. Friedman had some of his colleagues look at the compounds in Miller’s perfume,” Clark said. “There were some nasty psychotropic drugs in the mix.”
“Yeah, the pheromones alone wouldn’t have caused people to go off their nuts,” Lois said. “So, we were all drugged out of our heads.”
“It gets worse,” Clark said. “In susceptible people, people who already have ‘issues,’ exposure to those drugs could actually tip them over into psychosis.”
“Do you think Miller knows that?”
“Considering her background, she knows and doesn’t care. Her perfume was named ‘Revenge.’ Remember?”
“So who do you think she wants revenge against?” Lois asked.
“Maybe a better question is why did she spray the newsroom?” Clark asked. “What did it gain her? Was her revenge against someone here?”
“Or was it a convenient demonstration?” Lois asked. “We had the models here, lots of strangers in and out all day. We were an easy target.”
“Luthor was here too,” Clark reminded her.
“But why? Unless…” Lois sat back and Clark knew she was thinking through something. “We know she was working for Luthor Industries, and they cut her funding because her project wasn’t panning out. We also know Lex knew of her. Maybe she was running a demonstration to get Lex to give her funding back.”
“Or maybe it was more personal?”
Lois shrugged. “Lex does have a reputation as a ladies’ man.”
“So maybe ‘Revenge’ really is about revenge?” It was a stretch and he knew Lois knew it.
“Maybe I did cancel my dinner too soon,” Lois suggested. Clark suspected she wasn't really joking.
“Let’s get what we have written up,” Clark said. “And then I think you mentioned this little pasta place…”
-o-o-o-
“Doctor Miller is here,” Nigel announced over the study’s intercom.
“Send her in,” Luthor instructed.
Miranda was right on time. But then, punctuality had never been one of her problems, Luthor mused. She was a brilliant researcher but she was also a trifle unstable. She had mistaken lust for love. It was an ‘issue’ he had run into before – even brilliant, accomplished women occasionally mistook his attentions as something more than just sexual. For most of them, a sizeable payoff and a position in one of his subsidiary companies was enough.
It hadn’t been enough for Miranda. Having her as the next Mrs. Luthor was not in his plans for the future. A princess from a country willing to give him tax benefits and a title, possibly. But not a mere chemist, no matter how brilliant.
The door opened and she walked in, proud and cool. She was still beautiful, albeit in a porcelain doll sort of way – perfect on the outside but easily damaged.
Luthor stood and greeted her, kissing her hand. The champagne was chilling. The stage was set.
“Congratulations, Miranda. I'm the first to admit when I've made a mistake,” he said smiling. “I hope you've given my offer some consideration.”
“I've done nothing but think about it,” she responded. “Of course, there are plenty of others who'd be willing to offer me a tidy sum for my formula.”
“True, but I'm offering you a full partnership. Fifty-fifty.”
“Seventy-thirty,” she responded with a cool smile.
“Sixty-forty.”
“Done.”
The negotiations had gone more easily than Luthor had expected. “Good. Now, come. A toast. To you. To your brilliant success, and to our new partnership.”
He popped the cork on the champagne and poured two glasses. He turned and handed her one of the glasses, wrinkling his nose at the foul, animal smell that was now in the room.
Miranda raised her glass. “To us.”
He sipped the champagne. It was a reasonable champagne, but not one of the best in his cellars. Nigel had judged that Miranda was probably not worth the best. Nigel was usually very good at judging things like that. But then, Nigel was good at many things, not least of which was making sure Lex Luthor’s less savory appetites were sated.
Luthor noted that Miranda was watching him carefully. Was she expecting more from him? Was that foul smell the compound? Had she dared use it on him?
“I'm a bit concerned about the temporary nature of the perfume. Forty-eight hours isn't much time,” Luthor said.
“I'm only using a one percent solution,” Miranda told him. “In its purest form, 'Revenge' would cause a total and permanent breakdown of all inhibitions.”
“Excellent,” Luthor murmured. The compound was dangerous, but he could see uses for it. Introduce it at the office of a competitor… He smiled as he poured himself another glass of champagne.
Miranda came up behind him, putting her arms around his waist. It was all he could do to keep from flinching at her touch.
He turned to look into her face.
“Lex, I had hoped that this would not just be a business partnership, but more... the way it once was between us,” she said earnestly. Her eyes were wide, innocent, but he knew it was a ruse, a ploy. Miranda wasn’t innocent by any stretch of the imagination.
But then, neither was he. “You know I never mix business with other people's pleasure,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “But I might make an exception this one time.”
He kissed her neck and she moaned with anticipation. It was going to be so easy.
The office door opened and Luthor looked up to see Nigel standing in the door. The Englishman’s face was a mask of loathing, his eyes darting between Luthor and Miranda.
There was an unfamiliar sinking feeling in the pit of Luthor’s stomach. “Miranda, please tell me you didn’t spray any of my people with your potion…”
Miranda gave him another wide-eyed look. “Why Lex, whatever gave you that idea?”
The sinking feeling became a plummet.
-o-o-o-
Lois flopped on her back, happily sated. Clark was lying next to her in her bed, head propped on one hand as his fingers walked up her ribcage to her breasts.
“Keep that up and I will not be held responsible for my actions, farm boy,” she warned.
He grinned at her. “I guess I could find an ice floe to torment instead. But I’d rather torment you.”
“You know Perry is going to give us the Norcross and Judd lecture, don’t you?”
“I know…”
Clark face got that faraway look he would get just before he would disappear from the newsroom with some flimsy, completely ridiculous, excuse. She had found it annoying before she realized it was his ‘other’ job calling. It was still annoying, but she recognized it was something she would have to live with.
“What is it?” she asked. He hadn’t moved.
“Three gunshot deaths at LexCorp Tower. The penthouse,” Clark said.
“The penthouse?”
He nodded. “Luthor, Nigel St. John, and Miranda Miller. The officer in charge thinks it’s a double murder-suicide.”
Lois stared at Clark then climbed out of bed. “Well, what are we waiting for, partner? Luthor getting himself murdered is the biggest story since…”
“Since?”
“Since Superman saved Prometheus?”
There was a blur and suddenly Clark was standing in front of her, dressed in dark jeans and a knitted shirt. He grinned at her. “What are we waiting for, partner?”
“Oh, I can so get used to this…” Lois murmured to herself as she grabbed her clothes to get dressed. “You know, if Luthor was threatening Superman… Who’s to say he wasn’t involved with other questionable things?”
“Do I detect the scent of Lois Lane hot on the trail of a Pulitzer?”
“You detect a Lois Lane who wants to get this story done so we can get back to more interesting activities… Besides, if we make Perry happy, maybe he’ll give us those two weeks off so we can spend them in some island paradise, clothes optional…”
-o-o-o-
Perry looked around for his best writing team. They were nowhere to be seen.
"Jimmy, where are Lois and Clark?"
Jimmy ducked his head. "I saw them go into the storeroom. And now the door's locked."
Perry shook his head. "Norcross and Judd... we need to change that lock, or put in a bed," he groused.
"You think..." Jimmy's eyes widened. "Way to go CK... Uh, do you think he knows what he's getting into?"
Perry chuckled. "I'm sure he knows exactly what he's gotten into."
He hadn't thought Jimmy's eyes could get any wider.
Perry shook is head again, fighting down another laugh. "It's about time she got laid."
- 1
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The Moaning After