By Christy2 <email@example.com
Submitted March 2001
Summary: The author gives the episode "Seconds" an alternate humorous ending in which Lois and Clark both have amnesia.
This idea came to me because I was annoyed with how the clone arc dragged on and on, and because I was in the need of writing some comedy! It takes place directly following the clone's and Lex's deaths in the subway. Thanks to the people on Zoomway's boards who gave feedback. Hope you enjoy. :)
Superman stumbled through the wrecked-and-still-wrecking subway, clutching Lois's shoulders and trying his hardest to protect her from the falling debris, despite his own weakened state.
If he learned nothing else from this experience, he thought as he stumbled over a pile of cinder blocks, he now knew for sure that Lex Luthor was not a nice person. However, Clark had to say one thing for the man: he was a fighter. Clark could only hope, even though it wasn't very kind, that Lex stayed dead this time. Clark was getting extremely tired of having his and Lois's life interrupted by one 'bad guy' or the other, and it was even worse when the bad guy happened to be Clark's arch nemesis.
Clark and Lois came to the point where Lois's clone had said Martha was tied up, but Clark didn't see her anywhere. He quickly went over the clone's directions in his mind, and he knew this had to be the place. However, he didn't have time to examine the area further, as the ceiling was crumbling even faster now. He could only pray that Martha had found her own way out.
Reluctantly leaving without his mother, he headed towards what he hoped was the exit. The air around them was hazy with all the smoke from the fallen concrete, and Clark could barely see through it. Since he definitely wasn't feeling 100% after Lex blasted him with that laser, Clark tried to suck in a deep breath and hold it. However, this only caused him to erupt into a coughing fit, and so he decided it would be better to just concentrate on escaping.
Finally, the dark, mysterious haze gave way to a slightly lighter mysterious haze, and Clark decided that must be the way to outside. Just a few more steps… Suddenly, Clark felt that Lois might be in danger, and so he looked for what could be the problem. However, he quickly found that might not have been a good idea, because when he looked up, he was met with a very large, very unfriendly chunk of cement. It hit him square in the face, and he fell to the ground, Lois falling beside him.
The haze grew continuously thicker until all that he saw was darkness.
Wanda was having another one of those falling dreams. Well, actually, she couldn't really remember the last time she had had a falling dream, but she knew she was having one now. One moment she was leaning on a big, brawny, bright man, and the next moment she was hurtling towards the ground.
She jerked up with a start, thoroughly confused. She had been dreaming, hadn't she? She looked around. She was outside somewhere in the bright sunlight, and lo and behold, beside her lay a big, brawny, bright man. She blinked her eyes a few times, wondering if she could perhaps still be dreaming, but she soon realized she wasn't.
She sat up slowly, her head pounding. Curiously, she poked the man beside her, wondering if he were still alive. What was it Kent had called him? Superman? Well, he didn't look so super right now. Actually, if Wanda had had the chance to name him, she would have called him Adorableman. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned towards her and his bright red cape billowing out over him. His eyes were closed, and looked as if he were only sleeping. Wanda certainly hoped so, because if he *were* dead, it would have been a terrible waste of a superb male specimen.
Wanda immediately felt horrible for thinking these thoughts; after all, Kent, the love of her life, had just died! However, much to her embarrassment, she felt…empty. Not empty like the better half of her had just passed away, but empty emotionally. Like maybe Kent really wasn't the man for her. She had always thought her life would be perfect if Kent loved her, but when he did, things hadn't turned out the way she had expected.
Adorableman stirred beside her, and she sat waiting expectantly. His eyes fluttered a few times before he groaned, then his vision focused on her. He didn't say anything, but he rose up on his knees so he was leaning on the palms of his hands. He sat up all the way, cradling his head in one hand.
"Hey, you okay?" Wanda asked. He stared at her blankly for a few moments.
"We never got properly introduced inside. I'm Wanda De-" she faltered mid-name, wondering briefly why 'Wanda Detroit' sounded so strange.
"Wanda D?" he echoed.
"Wanda Detroit," she finished, more strongly. He repeated her name again, and she sent him a long look. "You got a name? Kent called you-"
He cut her off smoothly. "Charles. Charles King. It's a pleasure."
Charles shifted awkwardly within his tight leather pants and expensive leather jacket. He wasn't used to performing, or to the stage. Not for the first time that night, he wondered how Wanda had managed to talk him into this. The past one and a half days all seemed like such a blur to him. Well actually, they were probably the clearest memories he had. Everything before then was so hazy that he really didn't remember much at all. He liked to blame this on the fact that his life hadn't really started until he met Wanda, which, quite frankly, seemed like the truth.
He remembered waking up to Wanda's face and finding himself dressed in some crazy red, yellow, and blue spandex outfit. She quickly helped him find some normal clothes, and he remembered his insistence that he needed to wear glasses. This was still mind-boggling to him, since he seemed able to see well with or without them, but something in his mind just told him that they were a required accessory.
But then somehow, Wanda had convinced him to perform at the club with her. So what if he had a great voice? He wasn't the type to get up on stage. At least, he didn't think he was. He didn't really recall any high school plays in his befuddled brain, but then, he hardly remembered high school.
"Mr. King," a screechy voice called to him from outside his dressing room. "You're on next."
He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his gelled hair. He was doing this for Wanda. He just needed to keep telling himself that. Wanda met him just off the stage. "Nervous?" she asked in her normal low, sultry voice.
"Of course not," he replied confidently, running a hand through his hair.
"Good. We're up next."
From the stage, Charles heard the act previous to theirs end, and then the announcer stepped up to the microphone.
"Now, let me welcome back, by popular demand, Wanda Detroit! And her new partner, Charles King!"
The lights dimmed as Charles and Wanda stepped out. There was a bit of applause, and then the room became silent. Charles took a deep breath and held his microphone tightly. The band began playing softly, and Charles counted the seconds until he came in.
5…4…3… The music erupted into the hard rock music that Charles was so used to. 2… He smiled confidently over at Wanda.
"On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered round, and they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found," he started deeply. Wanda gave him her cocky half smile, then began singing.
"The head nurse spoke up, said 'leave this one alone'. She could tell right away…"
"That I was bad to the bone." As the song continued, Charles shed his jacket to reveal a white muscle tee, and he threw the jacket to the side of the stage. He and Wanda carried through the song perfectly together, and Charles knew that he had finally found his calling. Here, with Wanda on stage.
The song finished sooner than Charles would have liked, and as the audience applauded them, he followed Wanda off the stage. Once they were out of sight of the audience, Wanda turned to him with a big smile.
"You did great, I knew you were born to perform."
"You're the one that convinced me to do it."
They stepped closer together, and being the bold man he was, Charles slipped his arms around Wanda's shoulders and dipped down to kiss her. She responded to him, deepening the kiss. Something like electricity flowed between them. It was like he had just been hit on the head with a cement block. Clark stepped back from her, bewildered.
"Lois?" he questioned, extremely confused at just what he was doing. Lois shook her head a few times, trying to clear it. She felt as if she had just slammed her head against a fire hydrant. Her vision blurred for a second, and then it cleared to reveal Clark looking down at her, his face a mixture of worry and confusion.
"What happened? What are we doing here?" She stepped back, and gave Clark a good once-over. "And what are you wearing?" She gaped at his leather pants and tight-nearly-see-through white muscle tee.
Clark looked down at himself. "I don't know. Where are we?"
A man suddenly walked up to them and clapped them both on the shoulder. "Great job Wanda, Charles. You had the audience intrigued. Now, how can I set you up to perform tomorrow night?"
Clark's mouth suddenly dropped open and the color drained from his face. He remembered everything from the past two days, including…
"Did I just sing 'Bad to the Bone' on stage in front of a lot of people?" he asked Lois, quietly but urgently.
Lois nodded sadly, remembering also. "I think you did. We both did."
Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose over his glasses. The color had returned to his face, which was becoming bright red. "Can we get out of here? Please?"
Someone tapped him on his shoulder, and he turned around. Martha and Jonathon were standing behind them. Martha stepped forward, clapping her hands on Clark's shoulders. "I found another exit from the subway, and when I came outside and couldn't find you, I thought you had died! We've been looking for you two for the past two days, and when we heard Wanda Detroit and some mysterious partner were going to be singing here tonight, we came down as fast as we could. I never thought I would see you here like this! We were so worried! Why did you do this to us?"
"I'm sorry, Mom. We didn't mean to…"
"I certainly didn't mean to be here!" Lois said, feeling strangely exposed in front of all these people who knew her, but whom she didn't know.
"Let's just get out of here," Clark said, grabbing Lois's arm and walking towards the exit. When they were outside, Lois looked at the bar one last time; then she clutched Clark's arm even harder.
"Wanda Detroit," she said under her breath, "has left the building. For good."