By Tank Wilson <TankW1@aol.com>
Submitted April 2000
Summary: Lois needs a bass guitar player … and Tank Wilson comes to the rescue. <g>
Author's notes: When I wrote this for Zoomway's boards last year I didn't know what a Mary Sue story was. I just wanted to write something a little self-indulgent and fluffy. Since I am only referenced and not really in the story, I'm not sure if it qualifies as a Mary Sue, but because I never really liked the concept, I had decided to just leave it on the hard drive after its short run on the boards. Lately I've decided to go back and look at some of these abandoned stories and send them anyway just for the fun of it. I hope any of you who haven't already read this can get a smile from it.
A point of reference: I actually was the bass player in a local new wave band called The Liars back in the early eighties. Even though I thought we were pretty good, we never achieved anything near the level of recognition I imply in this story. As always, all characters are copyrighted to their respective owners. All feedback welcome at TankW1@aol.com
"Hello? Oh hi Brad. What? Oh no! How bad is it? Couldn't you have them wait till after Saturday night before putting it into a cast? I understand it's broken Brad, but I really need you there. What? Yeah, I understand, I guess, it's just that… well never mind. I hope you feel better soon."
Lois Lane slammed the phone down a little harder than she intended to. Why did this have to happen now! She stomped back to the couch, muttering all the way.
"You'd think he'd be more of a team player, play through a little pain. Where's his loyalty huh, that's what I'd like to know."
"Honey?" Lois kept muttering, occasionally allowing her hands and arms to fly about emphasizing her irritation. "Lois!" That got her attention. "What's wrong?"
Clark Kent had captured his wife's hands in his and gave her his most supportive look.
Lois frowned. "Nothing short of total disaster, that's what!" She escaped his grasp and rose to begin pacing back and forth in front of her husband. "I don't know why I even try anymore! I swear the fates delight in making my life miserable."
"Lois!" She stopped her pacing long enough to look toward Clark. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Brad broke his hand!"
"Brad? Brad in accounting?"
"No, you're thinking of Bob. Brad is in research."
"He was going to play bass, but now he can't."
Lois stared at Clark as if everything should be crystal clear now. Seeing his look of confusion, she came over and sat back down next to him. "Maybe I'd better start at the beginning." At his nod, she continued. "As you know, the annual charity amateur talent show is this Saturday, and because I really believe in their cause, I have participated the last few years."
"What charity is that again, Lois?"
"It's, it's something to do with kids, I think." Clark grinned. "Anyway, every year I've been runner-up to Tish Spelling from the Star. I've racked my brains trying to figure out how she does it." Lois looked at Clark waiting for a response.
"I hope you don't expect me to answer that." Clark held up his hands in a gesture of self-defense. Lois gave him an annoyed look.
"Okay, you tell me. Does she sing better that me?"
"No." Clark was glad that the answer to the question was so easy that even he could get it right.
"Does she look better in an evening gown that I do?"
"Lois, no one looks better in anything that you do."
The look Clark gave Lois was so sincere and full of loving that she began to feel herself melt under the gaze of those expressive brown eyes and subsequently lose her mood. She shook herself to break the spell.
"Anyway, I finally figured it out. She had better accompaniment! Where as I always just had Jimmy , and I love him for it, back me up on the piano, Tish has always had a full combo behind her."
"So that's why you've been running around bothering everyone at the Planet all week. You were assembling your own back -up combo."
"That's right, I … what do you mean bothering everyone?" Lois didn't wait for Clark to answer. "Anyway, now I find that Brad has broken his hand and won't be able to play bass guitar for me. Rehearsal is tomorrow and then Saturday is the event. There just isn't time to find someone else, even if I knew someone!"
Lois got back up and resumed the pacing she'd been doing earlier. Clark could hear her muttering under her breath. Words like 'unfair' and 'cruel fates' kept popping up. Lois eventually plopped down into the chair against the opposite wall. She had a sad, resigned look on her face.
"I don't suppose you know of anyone? Or better yet, you could learn to play bass by tomorrow, couldn't you?"
"Well…" Clark seemed hesitant.
"Don't tell me!" She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Clark Kent, you already are an expert bass player, aren't you!"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say expert, but I do know my way around the fret boards of a guitar or bass enough to get by."
Lois put her hands on her hips and gave Clark a stern look. "Okay, flyboy, give." Clark shrugged. "Not a big deal, Lois. One summer, as a teenager, I had the chance to visit my dad's sister and her husband, who live in Minneapolis. I spent a couple weeks with them."
"She introduced me to friend of theirs, a fellow named Tank Wilson. He taught me the basics and with some *super* assists, I became fairly good in a fairly short time. He was amazed at how well I picked it up, but what he attributed to natural rhythm was in reality super reflexes. That's all there is to it, Lois, really."
Lois' face was scrunched up in thought and she was tapping her jaw with the end of her finger.
"Tank Wilson? Why is that name familiar?"
"I doubt you'd know him, Lois. He was a little before your time. He played in a new wave band in the early eighties. I think they were called…"
"The Liars! I remember now." Lois smiled triumphantly at the look of amazement on her husband's face. "I was a pretty hip gal as a teenager. I picked-up on the punk/new wave scene as convenient form of rebellion back then. For about two months, I even dyed a purple streak into my hair. Drove my mother crazy." Lois and Clark both chuckled. Her at the memory, him at the image.
"There were several moderately successful new wave groups to come out of Minneapolis at that time. I'm just surprised that a young Metropolis teenybopper would know of them."
"I'm full of surprises, as you also seem to be. So how about it flyboy, you in?"
"I don't know Lois. It has been a long time. I probably don't even remember enough to be any help to you."
"Clark." Her tone held veiled menace.
"Okay, if I do do this for you, what's in it for me?"
Clark had that gleam in his eye and that grin on his face. Lois ran over and jumped into his lap. She placed her forehead against his, and had big smile on her face.
"I'll let you ravish me all night, tonight."
"I'm your husband. I'll be able to do that anyway."
Lois tilted her head back and looked Clark directly in the eyes. "No, you won't."
"Oh … well in that case, what time is rehearsal tomorrow?"
Lois planted her lips onto Clark's and tried to rattle his teeth. Clark just grinned beneath Lois' lips, picked her up, and carried her up the stairs.