The Great Blankie Caper

By DocJill <> and Catherine Bruce <>

Rated PG

Submitted April 2007

Summary: An amusing story in which there is an unusual revelation done by Superman and not Clark, capes are really blankies in disguise, a green chiffon costume is contemplated, pieces of the Suit disappear, and evil geniuses run amok. A multi-authored story by DocJill and Catherine Bruce.

This bit of absolute ridiculousness was written one night on IRC. DocJill was innocently trying to avoid doing actual work and Cat sucked her into this instead. This is scary and they share responsibility equally — and shift some of the blame onto JenniJAC because she helped!


Superman lay sprawled on his couch feeling very depressed indeed — he just didn't see how he could continue his superhero activities — the entire city, heck the entire world was against him.

All of his capes had been stolen — ALL of them! Not just one or two, but the whole kit & caboodle. And he had really liked them — they were so warm and soft and cuddly!

He had come home earlier, whistling happily as he opened his unlocked front door, and found that his bathroom window had been broken — he'd discovered the smashed window after he found his shower curtain lying in the middle of his living room floor. He'd then sadly discovered that his toothbrush and comb were missing.

He felt sorry for the poor thief who had had to waste all their time breaking open a window and risk getting cut on the broken glass when the front door had been unlocked the whole time. But then he remembered that he had things more worthy of stealing than his articles of self-hygiene.

Panicking at that point and realizing that the next most likely place a thief would go would be the secret compartment in his closet where he hid his Super Suits, he rushed into his bedroom and ripped the closet door from its hinges.

The blue spandex twinkled merrily back at him, all shiny and patriotic and superhero looking. But then he realized the most horrific thing! There was a paucity of soft, swishy red in the closet — his capes were GONE!

Well, that was just IT! He was definitely locking his doors from now on, poor, sad, stupid little burglars be darned!

He had then sat down on his bed and cried for hours — well, at least half an hour. Then he'd moved to the living room and pouted for at least another twenty minutes. But now he had to figure what he was going to do with the rest of his life — he just didn't know if he could be Superman without his capes. Okay, he could always have his mom make more, but they'd probably just get stolen too.

Maybe he should go confess everything to Lois — she would be mad that he had hidden his identity from her for so long, but she would understand and feel sorry for him once she understood how sad he was about his missing capes. And then maybe she would offer to help him make some new ones…and y'know, go out on a date with him.

Across town the evil menace who had stolen Superman's capes cackled menacingly. Her blankie collection was complete, she had 10 perfect, warm, soft and cuddly blankies — and they smelt so good too. She would have to start on her boot collection next.


Superman dragged his exhausted carcass back to his apartment, walking with a slight limp. The water puddles were cold to his one bare foot, and he missed the swooshy noise his beloved capes used to make.

He supposed he could have flown up to let himself in, but he was feeling too self-pitying for that. To lose all your capes was one thing, to be sure an emotionally traumatic thing, but to lose all your left boots as well! That was an indignation he could never have imagined. WHY just the left boot? Why not the right? Of heaven forbid even both?

His door was locked, and he remembered that he usually kept his keys in his cape, so he just broke the handle to let himself in. He had tried talking to Lois about everything earlier today, but for once she was running out on him whenever he tried to get close.

A terrifying thought occurred to him— Oh no! What if they came back and stole all of his underoos??

With a burst of Super Speed, he zipped into his loft apartment and checked on the remains of his suits. He sighed in relief to see that his underoos were still indeed there. He shuddered at the image of flying around in just the blue spandex. The red briefs barely hid his boy bits as it was!

He briefly considered getting a safe, but then that would probably be made of lead. So he decided against it.

Like a little boy who had lost his teddy, Superman moped around the living room. His capes! His boots! His mother had made those capes for him. They were like security blankies he could get away with carrying around because who would accuse Superman of needing one? Pouting, he called Lois again to see if she was there. When she picked up, he had to clear his throat to get back into his 'Clark Voice'.

"Clark? What do you want?"

"Um, are you busy? There's a case thing I wanna work on, and… I think I need your help."

"A Case thing? Like a story?"

He blushed at that, headlines reading 'Man of Steel Really Man of Fluffy Blankies' danced through his head.

"Uh… no. It's a side project, not a story, and um…"

She started to speak again, something about her being there in a few minutes. He couldn't really tell what she was saying; because his brain regressed to the state it always did when he talked to her. He barely repressed the urge to say 'Duuuuur… You're pwetty!'

When Lois finally arrived, he had his mind made up. Without waiting for her to knock on the door, he thrust it open and declared; "Lois! I'm Superman!"

"Well… yeah. But what happened to your cape and boot?"

He looked down at himself and cursed. Curses! He'd forgotten to change into Clark Clothes before answering the door. Embarrassed, he stood aside to let her in.

There was a moment of silence, and then he shook his head. "No, no. Okay, wait. I have this speech thing all planned out. Okay. Sit down on the couch?"

She did, and he paced. He began to recite the speech. "I know it comes as a shock finding out I'm Superman, but I really, really wanted to tell you for a long time now. And I would have told you sooner, but things just kept coming up and—" He sighed and plopped on the couch. "That's not working either." He turned and looked in her eyes. "Lois, I'm really Clark Kent."

Lois stared at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish (an adorable one!), while she took in the news. "Let me get this straight. You, Superman, are telling me that you're Clark."

Superman nodded. "Yeah…"

"Huh, you would think this would have been the other way around…"

"Yeah well, I thought about that, but aside from forgetting to change I figured that this way hasn't been done as much before… but that's beside the point! Look Lois, I know you're mad at me and angry and infuriated and hurt and all those other emotions, but I told you for another reason! Someone stole my blanki—er, capes and left boots, and I need your help tracking them down! You can yell at me and everything like that on the way but please, please help me?"

"You're right, I am mad at you and angry and infuriated and hurt and all those other emotions, but we do have a caped caper on our hands. And a boot caper as well. So get Clarkified and prepare to be verbally smacked down on the investigation."

So he did, and wiggling his glasses into place, he allowed Lois to pull him out of the apartment. Throughout the evening, they searched and argued and all was right in the Lane and Kent world…except for the missing capes and boots, for which they were still looking .


Across town, the same evil menace cackled more menacingly than before. Capes and boots were all well and good, and these blankies were still so soft and comfy and she loved to roll around in them, but there was something else that was needed for her evil plan to work. And that came in the form of red underoos. MUAHAHA!!


Lois and Clark stumbled wearily through the door to his apartment, each carrying a right- sided super-boot that they had taken with them for comparison so that when they found the stolen left boots they could prove they were the right ones. They didn't have a cape with them for comparison because all of the capes had been stolen and there was no such thing as bilateral symmetry with capes.

"Clark, I'm sorry we couldn't find your left boots and that none of my snitches were any help. They just didn't understand why Superman couldn't just wear two right-sided boots." Lois sighed and dropped the poor, lonely, right-sided super-boot.

"It's OK, Lois. I didn't really think any of your sources could help anyway. The evil genius who plotted these thefts was obviously too smart to confide in common street thugs or even Bobby Bigmouth." Clark rushed over to pick up the poor, sad, little, right- sided boot so that it wouldn't feel lonely anymore without its other-sided boot friend.

"Yeah, well, we'll look again tomorrow. I'm still really mad at you and angry and infuriated and all those other emotions, although a little less now because I've realized just how cute you are when you're sad and pathetic and you have that lost, sad-puppy-dog look in your eyes, so I should probably go home and eat a tub of chocolate ice cream now. I'll probably stop being mad at you by tomorrow morning, so I'll see you at work."

"Don't you want to stay and yell at me a little more — I could really use the company right now. And I should probably count all my right-sided boots too, to make sure the thief didn't accidentally steal one of them too," Clark pleaded with her, wanting her to stay so that he could continue to look at her and be mesmerized by her beauty.

Lois acquiesced, because she did feel sorry for him, even if she was STILL mad and angry and infuriated and all those other emotions. So she sat down next to him on the sofa as he gazed mournfully at his two sad, right-sided super-boots.

Then suddenly he looked up and cocked his head on an angle, like someone might do if they were hearing something with their super-hearing and Lois wondered if he had suddenly heard something with his super-hearing — like a cry for help. And, hey, wait a minute, was that why he was always running off in the middle of conversations and assignments and stake-outs and staff meetings with lame excuses about returning videos and getting coffee and picking up cheese of the month shipments — he was hearing things with his super-hearing and running off to be Superman! Well, now she was back to being full-fledged mad and angry and infuriated and all those other emotions at him!

"Lois!" Clark cried, as he jumped to his feet. "I've just heard something with my super- hearing — a cry for help! I have to go!" And he spun into one of his Super Suits — but without his cape or his left boot because they had been stolen — and prepared to fly off to rescue the person that he had heard crying for help with his super-hearing.

But he stopped short when he heard Lois gasp, and also because the suit felt kind of funny, like he was missing something — something other than his cape and left boot, because he already knew he was missing those and he'd started to adapt.

"Clark! Your red underoos! They're gone!" Lois cried in distress — but really not too much distress, because from her point of view, without the red underoos his boy bits were MUCH more noticeable, and she decided quickly that she was actually very glad that his red underoos had been stolen.

Clark gasped in horror and distress as he looked down and realized that, indeed, his red underoos were missing and that his boy bits were MUCH more noticeable. His shocked gaze moved back to Lois' for a moment before he blushed furiously and super-sped into the bedroom to his secret compartment to confirm that all of his red underoos were gone.

As he looked into the closet and saw nothing but a sea of blue spandex without even a little, tiny bit of shiny red underoo or cape in sight a wave of overwhelming sadness swept over him and he realized that he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball on his bed with one of his warm, soft, and cuddly capes and cry — maybe with Lois joining him, wrapped in the cape. But he couldn't do that, because someone had stolen all of his capes and left boots and red underoos.

Across town, the evil menace continued to cackle menacingly. She hugged her new collection of red underoos to her, wrapped in her soft, warm and cuddly blankies and smiled happily at her pile of left boots. Things just kept getting better and better. But now she knew what she really wanted — pretty blue leotards with a soft, textured and heroic S- symbol on them.


Clark woke up the next morning with a monster headache and a horrible fuzzy dry feeling in his mouth. He groaned as he remembered the night before, all the wine he had distraughtly imbibed, bottle after bottle, Lois eventually joining him in a couple glasses. Sleep hadn't claimed either of them until well into the morning, and he realized that he was on his bed, clutching what FELT like a blankie, and Lois was wrapped in it. Woohoo!

Clark remembered then that he didn't get drunk, and his headache mysteriously disappeared.

However! Lois DIDN'T disappear. She was still snuggled safely in the confines of what wasn't a blankie-cape but was a queen-size bed sheet. A poor substitute to be sure, but even though things looked bleak for the future of his Super Suits, he still held on to a final miniscule shred of hope that one day she would be wrapped in a BLANKIE-CAPE, and not a measly, undeserving scrap of 200 thread count polyester blend cloth.

Cloth that had tiny cartoon fluffy bunnies…

Lois made happy sighing sounds in her sleep and wriggled further into the undeserving cloth. Her movements caused echoing happy sounds from him, and he immediately gave up on the idea of getting up. Just ten more minutes?

Several handfuls of 'ten more minutes' flew by before he grudgingly decided it was time to get up. Actually, he only got out of bed because Lois seemed to require food or something. So he made her breakfast, not in one of his tattered suits but in a pair of plain old shorts that, while they were shorts, they just weren't underoos. Lois seemed to like the breakfast he made her, though she kept supporting her head with her hands and drinking a lot of water. Then he remembered that humans DID get drunk and offered her some aspirin.

Feeling full and only slightly woozy, Lois sat with Clark on his couch. Actually, she leaned into him so the world would stop spinning. "Okay, so why would someone steal your capes, your left boot, and your red underoos? And why not the RIGHT boot?" "I don't know, Lois." Clark tried not to be distracted as Lois' soft bits pressed against his arm. "Whoever it is has got to be an evil genius! I mean, what other sort of person can so cleverly, so diabolically, pull off feats such as these?"

"I myself am Flabbergasted, Clark." Lois was pleased that her wined-mushed brain could string together enough brain cells to use such a long word, hopefully correctly. "We've got to keep searching though. How about you get dressed in what is left of your suit…" Lois pauses for a moment, distracted by the image. "And, umm… oh yeah! Then we can go back out and look some more. Somebody SOMEwhere has got to know what is going on!" She made no move to get up, instead she leaned more heavily into him. Who turned Clark's living room into the teacup ride?

Clark felt it rising in his chest but clamped it down; the idiotic geeky guffaws that sometimes tried to escape him when he was with his partner. Again the urge to tell her 'Heeheehee… You're soooo purdy' became strong as her girly bits pressed more girlily into him. A slight sliver of dorkish laughter escaped before he could catch it. "Okay, Lois. I will." She made no move to move. "But um… to do so… I need to get up."

"M'kay." Lois didn't exactly get up, but she slid down his arm so that she was resting on the cushion. When he got up she sighed sadly. The seats cushions did little to support her poor achy head. While her partner's muscley goodness did little to chase away the troupe of acrobatic miners that danced throughout her skull, she'd rather be snuggled against that than the cushion. It was just so much nicer…

A decidedly shrill scream ripped through her skull and bowled over the bouncing miners in perfect scores. Before she could decide whether to slow boil the screamer or dip them in dry ice, Clark rushed back into the room. He was only wearing a yellow belt, the blue tights, and a lone solitary right boot. The nice muscles she'd been using as a cushion were bare to the world, and she momentarily forgot about her head.

"Lois!" Clark's voice broke, going from shrill back down a few octaves to his normal range in the space of two syllables. "You'll never believe what happened! It's terrible, it's horrible! It's, it's… it's…" He flailed his hands, unsure of the words that could properly describe his desolation, his loss, his sense of violation. Then it came to him. "It's so poopy!"

Lois was still too wrapped up coming to terms with the fact that her partner, the strongest man on earth, the only thing in existence besides cockroaches and Twinkies that could survive a nuclear holocaust, had just screamed like a schoolgirl when a bully dropped slugs down her shirt, to notice his eloquent words at the end. "Um… What did they do? What happened?"

"The leotards, Lois! The LEOTARDS!! Every single one is gone! I went through every suit to make sure that I wasn't imagining things but I'm not and they're gone and now I have to fly around half naked! I didn't think it could get any worse! But it has!"

Lois watched as her partner paced back and forth for a few minutes before her intoxicated inner ear made her stop him. She did so by stepping into his path, and the result was being squished up against a leotardless superhero. "Um… You'll wear a hole in the floor. Now, we gotta think clearly here, Clark." This was hard to do because his skin was SO soft and he smelled yummy. "We'll have to move quickly if we're going to catch whoever did this. I don't think this story will allow you to run around in just your boot and belt. Although…" Lois's brain ran away from her, diving into a password protected area.

Clark wished his own brain could follow her, but alas his personal experience would only let his imagination imagine a lot of cuddling.

Of course, cuddling wasn't all that bad.

Clark shook his head, turning back to the atrocity of being capeless, partially bootless, underooless, and leotardless. "Where would an evil genius hide out?"

"I don't know. Was there ANY clue at all? Anything else you're leaving out?"

Clark thought back. "Well… my comb and toothbrush are missing."

Lois blinked. "I really don't wanna know…"

Clark shrugged. "That's about it, though. I mean, they also broke in through the bathroom when the front door was unlocked, so they obviously thought I would be smart enough to lock the front door which I didn't so they have a very, very high opinion of me."

Lois thought for a moment. Again, hard to do, because neither she nor Clark had bothered to push away from each other. "Hmm. An evil genius with an obsession with your uniform. Blanki-er, capes stolen first, left boots next, followed by the underoos and leotard. And your toothbrush and comb are missing." She tapped her chin with her fingertip. "Hmm. Who, or what, would fit that category?"

Clark shook his head, completely stumped. "A mastermind, indeed!" A horrible thought occurred to him, and he clutched Lois tighter to him. Waiting for the inevitable distraction to pass, which admittedly took longer than it should have because dur, she's so purdy, he explained. "Lois! What if… what if… oh, it's so horrible!"

Dur, he's so purdy… No, no, this was FAR from horrible! Wait… concentrate, brain… "Um… What's wrong Clark?"

"Lois… what if… there's…" He buried his face in her shoulder as he shuddered, unable to say what evil had invaded his thoughts. Finally he drew enough strength from her to go on. "What if there's more than ONE of them??"

Lois let out an ear piercing scream that rivaled his earlier one that rivaled any doomed female in any horror film ever made. Ever.

It was a couple of seconds before Clark could hear again.

"Clark, that's such an evil thought! One mad genius of this diabolical a caliber we could stand a chance against, but TWO?" She clutched him tightly to her, fighting off the despair that threatened to consume her.

Clark soothed her as any male protagonist would—at least, as any male protagonist in a story rated below R would. He clutched her tightly, arms wrapped as far around her as they would reach, and he rocked her back and forth. "Do not worry Lois! We will prevail!"

Eventually, because it's hard to keep two people in one place for very long, especially when they're destined soul mates and HAWT, without breaching any ratings barrier, the two pulled apart and decided that they should start the investigation; after lunch of course, because they spent so long embracing.

And so, after a yummy meal of Chinese food and pasta and Lois just barely not finding out what pasta does to Clark, the duo set out, investigating once again.

Somewhere in the city, the evil menace continued to cackle, even MORE menacingly than before, and she was then joined by another evil genius. And they were joined by yet another evil genius! And they looked over their beautiful blankie-capes and left boots and underoos and leotards and were very, very, very pleased.


Clark sighed grumpily and kicked an empty aluminum can halfway down the street in frustration, then felt bad about it. He went and picked the can up and flew it to the nearest recycling center before returning to Lois and his sad, moody wanderings down the street on the way back to his apartment.

They still hadn't found out any information on the evil mastermind(s) behind the diabolical plot to steal his capes, left boots, underoos and leotards. Obviously these criminal geniuses were just too smart for them — maybe it was time that he and Lois admitted defeat? Maybe he could get used to flying around in just the tights, yellow belt and right boot? Or maybe it was time to start with a new costume — something so ungodly hideous that no evil genius would ever want to steal it? Maybe something in green chiffon?

While Clark was moping and trying to come up with new ways to break into the world of superhero fashion design, Lois was still pondering the horrible thought of multiple masterminds behind this scheme and how to foil their plot.

"Clark, we've got to figure something out! You can't spend the rest of your life flying around in a third of a Super Suit! It's not fair — I'm supposed to be the only one that gets to ogle your chest and certain other parts of your anatomy! And I don't share well!"

Clark sighed again — he was getting good at it — and looked over at Lois, then noticed that her eyes had taken a decidedly southward turn and were fixed somewhere below the level of his waist. "Lois, I know you don't share well, and I don't think I enjoy being shared. But I don't know what else we can to stop these fiends. If this keeps up, I won't even have bits of a suit left!"

At that moment they reached Clark's apartment — only to discover his formerly tightly locked front door was now unlocked, open and swaying in the breeze. Clark let loose with a truly horrified, despairing, desperate and girly cry of grief and fear and rushed into his apartment to discover what new bit of his poor, beloved, rapidly-disappearing Super Suit collection the evil geniuses had now absconded with.

He whooshed through his living room — no longer creating a fantastic blur of colors with his Super Speed because really, flesh color and a little blue, not quite as exciting in Super Speed as the blur of red and lots of blue that he used to make when in full suit. Clark stopped abruptly in front of his closet and looked apprehensively into his super secret suit compartment that was no longer very secret.

But a sudden bump from behind stopped him from being able to assess any new damage to his Super Suit inventory. He turned around only to discover Lois sitting on the floor rubbing her nose. She had chased him into his apartment, after the momentary shock of his girly scream had worn off — and had not been able to stop as abruptly as he had stopped when he stopped in front of his super secret suit compartment…so she had run hard and fast directly into his back.

He helped her to her feet, and holding her hand tightly, they both stepped forward to assess the new damage…

Tights still there? Check. Yellow belt still there? Check. Right boots? Yup, still on the floor where he'd left them. But wait a minute…there weren't as many there as before! Clark quickly counted his remaining bits of Super Suits and discovered that three of each of the bits were now missing.

He slumped to the ground, relief mixing with sadness. He'd lost entire suits now, not just bits — but his ultimate horror had not been realized. He wasn't going to have to fly around the city in just a belt and a right boot.

Lois lowered herself to the ground next to him. "It's OK, Clark. It doesn't look like any other parts of the suits are missing." She sighed in mixed relief and sadness — relief for him because she didn't want to see him any sadder, but sadness for herself because her ultimate fantasy had not been realized. She wouldn't get to see Superman flying around the city in just a belt and a right boot.

Lois sat next to Clark and wrapped her arms around him — taking this further opportunity to ogle and not share well. As she sat there with him, she noticed one of his yellow super belts that had fallen to the floor of the super secret suit compartment — a piece of paper was clipped to the inside of the belt. Lois grabbed it and unclipped it from the belt, then read it out loud to the whimpering Superhero on the floor.

Dear Mr. Clarkerman. We promise we are done pilfering from you. Please feel free to make more suits. We won't take them, we promise. Sincerely yours, The Evil Geniuses X 3.

The shock and horror of THREE evil masterminds behind this nefarious plot was finally too much for Lois, and she let loose a mind-numbing, ear-drum blowing, earth shattering, glass splintering, pretty darned impressive scream.

Several minutes later, when Clark and the rest of Metropolis had regained consciousness — and their ability to hear — Clark took the note from Lois and reread it for himself. Then he jumped to his feet, pulling Lois up with him, hugged her and swung her around in joy and relief that the evil criminal plot had finally come to an end. They would likely never discover the identities of these evil geniuses, but his Super Suits would be safe from now on.

Over the next several hours, Lois and Clark started work on restocking his Super Suit collection. Clark flew out to Smallville and picked up a bunch of the extra material from his mom — she was a little shocked to see him arriving in nothing but a pair of tights, a yellow belt and a right boot, but being Martha, she took it in stride.

Obviously the blanki — er, capes were the most important part and had to be finished first. He just didn't look nearly as impressive while flying when he didn't have that pretty, long red cape flying behind him, and he just terribly missed the swooshy noises he used to make when he walked.

Once they were done with a good supply of new capes, Lois and Clark lay wearily down on Clark's bed — both wrapped snuggly in one of his warm, soft and cuddly capes. Clark sighed happily, now his fantasy was truly coming true. He almost wanted to thank the Evil Geniuses for this outcome of their dastardly, evil plot — almost, but not quite.

Lois snuggled warmly against the nicely muscled surface that her head was once again laying on. 'This is nice, and I really like this cape. I should have done this a long time ago.' She suddenly realized that she wasn't tired at all, and glancing up at Clark she realized that he wasn't tired either. She reached up towards him and finally their lips sealed and in a warm, melty, oh-so-very-WAFFY kiss.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the three evil geniuses pranced merrily around their hideout — which wasn't a run-down, dirty, abandoned warehouse in the low rent district, but a very, very, very nice penthouse suite in a 5-star hotel. All three were clad in matching, complete, wonderful Super Suits. And they gazed lovingly at their piles of warm, soft, cuddly blankies and left boots and red underoos and S-symbol leotards. And the third evil genius lovingly hugged a tube of pilfered hair gel to her chest and laughed gleefully.

The next morning, Clark rolled out of bed and stumbled to his bathroom, stopping in the doorway to look lovingly back at Lois, sleeping in his bed, wrapped in his cape. Then he turned to the sink and opened his medicine cabinet — reminding himself that he needed to buy a new toothbrush and comb. "Hey! Where's my hair gel?"