By Michael <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted June 2008
Summary: It's Season 2 and Clark's birthday is coming up. But what are the two women in his life going to present him with?
This is the English version of a little fic I wrote for the German Fanfic board's Ficathon and my first story to be submitted to the archive. The challenge is listed at the end of the story. There is also an nfic-verison which adds a little graphic, but (hopefully) funny, detail to one scene.
Thanks go to Mellie (Lara Joelle Kent) for assigning me the challenge and the brainstorming that followed, Babsi (Vanda Detroit) for doing the German beta, Kmar for the English beta, Rona V. for being my GE, and of course, Barbara (Bakasi) for the challenge itself.
I hope you will have as much fun with it as I had in writing it. If you'd like to leave me a comment or two, please feel free to post in the Fanfic-board (http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=6;t=001398) or just send me an e-mail. It is always appreciated :)
Disclaimer: The recognizable characters and settings in this story are the property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a legal right to them, and I have no claim on them whatsoever, nor am I profiting by their use. It's just the original stuff that would be mine, written down to bring some entertainment to other FoLC.
The setting is between "Return of the Prankster" and "Lucky Leon" in Season 2.
Blocks in >> << are literal thoughts by the character.
Mayson Drake, Assistant D.A., was a woman who knew what she wanted and a woman who got what she wanted. And ever since she had met Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, she had wanted him. It wasn't just the pure sexual magnetism this man radiated, and there was plenty of that. No, the truth was much simpler than that.
Mayson's line of work brought her to close quarters with criminals of the worst kind, as well as the lawyers that defended them. She saw it every day, the scum of mankind slithering about the courthouse. What she didn't see were good and decent men.
But when she had met Clark Kent some three and a half months ago, she knew she had finally found exactly that -- a good and decent man. And the best part of it was that he was still available. All she had to do was make sure he directed his attention towards her and away from that annoying and irritating nut-job he called a partner.
But she was a blonde. She had a reasonably shapely body. He was a man. Distracting him shouldn't be too hard if she really put herself to it. And thanks to some chit-chat with one of the clerks at City Hall, she knew his birthday was coming up in a few days. It was high time for her to get him a birthday present he would never forget, or misunderstand.
Lois hated birthdays. Her own had never been much fun when she had been a kid. On the rare occasions her parents had actually remembered them, they had presented her with an envelope containing dollar bills in denominations supposedly suitable for her age. And later, during high school and college, well, she hadn't been what people called popular, and her birthdays weren't among the social occasions of the season.
But that was all right. It meant she rarely got invited to her classmates' birthdays either, absolving her of the need of getting them suitable presents. And those presents were also the reason why she hated other people's birthdays even more than her own. She never did figure out how to come up with good birthday gifts. Usually, they ended up being books from the current bestseller rack, augmented by the odd tie after she got her job at the Planet. Sometimes it was a good thing so many of her colleagues were men.
And now the unthinkable had happened. She was almost dating a co-worker, her best friend, to be precise. And his birthday was coming up in a few days. In two days, actually, for the whole mess with Kyle Griffin, a.k.a. the Prankster, had cost her several valuable days for finding the perfect gift.
Which was the reason why she was entering the building at the corner of Lexington and Third, also known as the location of the Metropolis branch of Saks, ready to admit defeat and buy another tie.
Lois exited the elevator on the fourth floor -- the home of ties and shirts -- and got ready for the hunt. She was sure she could find the perfect tie here. Unfortunately though, perfect was a relative term when it came to her and her partner.
While she considered the understated elegance of a simple tie to be a perfect match for white shirts, her partner usually showed a blatant disregard for the wellbeing of the visual cortices of his fellow human beings. So just what was she supposed to buy? A tie that said, 'I am the woman at your side, ready to mold you into the perfect man' or 'I am the woman who understands you better than anyone, please continue with your spleens'? She hated such choices!
Hoping against hope that inspiration would strike her while wandering through the endless aisles flanked with ties of all sizes, colors, and shapes, Lois' mind idly wondered if perhaps a Superman tie would--
Then her breath caught in her throat, for six feet in front of her another woman was perusing the tie selection. A blond woman she was unfortunately very well acquainted with.
>>That's it, Lane! Fight or flight,<< Lois thought to herself, before the choice was taken away from her when the blonde looked up from where she was studying the assortment of generic black ties.
"Lois? Now that's a surprise, seeing you here!"
Taking a deep breath before replying, Lois returned the greeting. "Mayson. I didn't expect to find you here. Is your father's birthday coming up?"
"Very funny, Lois. Very funny," the blonde had the nerve to respond. "No, actually, I'm just trying to find a nice accessory for a suit I plan to wear to a very special occasion. But what about you? Are you buying yourself another one of those pant suits?"
"No, I'm not. And I'll have you know that I look very elegant and professional in my clothes. Not everyone can pull the girly-look off without looking like a tramp," Lois concluded with a grin she was hoping concealed the bile rising in her throat.
Just what was the blond bitch up to? Well, it was obvious what she was doing, namely buying a *tie* to be Clark's birthday present. A *tie* of all things. And a black one at that. The nerve of that woman! But at least now Lois knew what she would *not* buy for Clark's birthday.
Sighing to herself because she was back to square one, Lois continued to walk across the floor, hoping to portray the picture of a calm and composed lady, completely oblivious of the hussy sneaking in on her territory.
Mayson had noticed the brunette vixen from the corner of her eye the moment she had entered the aisle. And she was quite sure what the brunette was up to. After all, what else but buying a tie can a woman do in the tie aisle at Saks? It did not, however, mean she had to tell the reporter just what exactly she intended to do with the tie.
"Lois? Now that's a surprise, seeing you here!" Mayson greeted the other woman with her best fake smile. It's not like it was her fault that the she and the brunette didn't click.
"Mayson. I didn't expect to find you here. Is your father's birthday coming up?"
Now, if that wasn't a classic jibe below the belt, then she didn't know what was. So the cold fish was -- piqued? Or perhaps even jealous? Well, that she couldn't help the brunette with. The vixen had had more than a year to decide whether to date her partner, but now it was her turn to haul him in.
"Very funny, Lois. Very funny," Mayson replied, trying to keep her tone nonchalant while firing her own shot over her non-competition's bow. "No, actually, I'm just trying to find a nice accessory for a suit I plan to wear to a very special occasion. But what about you? Buying yourself another pant suit?"
"No, I'm not. And I'll have you know that I look very elegant and professional in my clothes. And not everyone can pull the girly-look off without looking like a tramp."
Did she hear correctly? Had the brunette prude actually had the nerve to call her a *tramp* before stomping off?
Mayson took a deep breath and decided to let it slide. After all, she was the one who would haul in the great prize after Clark's birthday. She could be gracious to the loser, even if said loser was of the sore variety.
Two days later, Lois was struggling with the bag of cartons she was carrying. Takeout was perfectly fine, but that didn't mean she had to like carrying a five course meal from La Trattoria Di Alfonso all by herself. Why her favorite Italian place wouldn't deliver beyond a fifteen block radius, she would never understand.
Putting the boxes down beside Clark's front door, she stretched to retrieve the key he hid above the door frame. Only, there wasn't a key. Had the farm-boy finally learned not to leave his key outside, just when she was about to prepare a surprise candlelight dinner to welcome him home on his birthday?
Shrugging off her wonder at the cosmic coincidences life held for her, Lois got to work with her lock picks. It really paid off to always be prepared.
After pushing the door open, Lois bent to pick up the dinner and carry it into Clark's kitchen. That was when she noticed the smell of scented candles in the air. Since when did the farm-boy have scented candles? And she knew that particular scent: 'Vanilla Musk -- for the special evening with a loved one'. Huffing, Lois was about to call out for Clark, when the tunes of 'Happy Birthday to You' began wafting through the apartment.
A moment later it became clear to Lois that she wasn't the first one to arrive at Clark's apartment this late afternoon, for a female hand snaked across the wall separating Clark's bedroom from his living room.
"Happy birthday to you," Lois heard and wondered briefly at the Monroe-esque quality of the voice.
"Happy birthday to you."
It was with the appearance of the performer's head and shoulder that Lois recognized the voice. Mayson Drake was presenting her with heartfelt rendition of the famous birthday song!
"Happy birthday, dear Cla-aaargh!?"
Lois realized that the bleach-blond hussy was also presenting her with something else entirely and was stunned for a moment at the image of the naked District Attorney in front of her, wearing only the black silk tie Lois had seen her pick out two days ago.
>>Just what is the little bitch up to with *my* Clark? And since when is he out doing horizontal exercises with that -- that -- that...<<
"SLUT!" Lois couldn't hold the exclamation back any longer.
It had only been a few weeks since he had supposedly stood the blonde up. Now she and Clark were almost dating, and here he was, having a blond slut in his bedroom the whole time. The nerve of the bastard!
Mayson was a little nervous when she slid her hand over Clark's doorframe, looking for the key. Normally, she was the picture perfect image of a law-abiding citizen, but this time the ends justified the means. And the end was quite noble at that. Okay, perhaps not *noble* noble, but justifiably noble none-the-less.
A few weeks ago, Clark had blown her off on their romantic getaway into the mountains, and she had been humiliated and hurt at the time. But she understood now, after having seen more of his interaction with his frigid partner, that he was just scared of strong women taking the initiative.
Well, this time she would present him with a different option, one that could not be evaded or misinterpreted. She had not been lying to the brunette vixen when she had told her the tie was for a suit she intended to wear. Only, the suit was her birthday suit, and now was the time to put it on -- so to speak -- for Clark was a man, after all. And all men were ultimately controlled by their nether-brains.
Finally getting hold of the key -- she had to remember to thank that young photographer at the Planet, Justin, Johnny, Jack, something like that, later for the tip -- Mayson let herself into the apartment of the birthday boy.
Setting everything up wasn't too hard. A strategically placed scented candle, two more candles in the bedroom to be lit when Clark came home, and then she would just have to wait until the small celebration at the Planet was over. She had to thank the boy for that bit of information, too. Perhaps he could be one of the groomsmen?
About an hour later, Mayson finally heard the door getting opened. Quickly, she lit the candles, slipped out of the robe she had brought to wear while she was waiting, and pressed 'play' on the cassette player.
Propping her naked backside against the wall, Mayson began to snake her hand across the corner while starting to sing in her best Marilyn Monroe voice.
"Happy birthday to you," she began to whisper, her head still facing the bedroom.
"Happy birthday to you," she continued to intone when she slid her head and shoulder into the living room.
It was only on the third line of the song that she actually turned around fully, giving Clark a spectacular view of her nude form, only a small strip of silk accenting her breasts.
And almost choked at the sight of the woman staring back at her.
>>What is the Ice Maiden doing here? And why is she holding a shopping bag? How did she get in here? Had Clark given her the keys to his apartment? And why is she staring at me like I'm a specimen under a microscope?<<
"SLUT!" Mayson heard before she was able to regain her own voice.
Was Clark actually sharing more than his byline with his partner? No, she couldn't believe she was too late. Especially since she hadn't heard a peep about it anywhere. No, the cold fish was trying to worm her way into her own date, and she wouldn't have that. At all.
Clark was walking up to his apartment, leisurely chatting away with Jimmy about the party the Planet's staff had thrown for him. And it had been a great party, even if Lois hadn't even stayed beyond the initial 'Happy Birthday, Clark!'
Sometimes he wondered if he would ever understand his partner. One moment she was all giddy and nervous about their budding romance and the next she was running in the other direction. True, it didn't help when he ran off to get another Superman exclusive, but was it too much to ask for her to be at least a little less passive-aggressive and a little more confrontational? He missed this part of their early months. Lois had been so much more open with him back then.
Clark was about to insert the key into the lock of his front door when he became aware of the strangled voices from the inside. Not bothering with the lock, he tried to open the door and was a little surprised at its unlocked state.
What was far more surprising was the head of his partner rising from behind his couch, her suit jacked gone and her blouse hanging open on one shoulder.
"Uh, hi, Clark."
Clark was even more stunned when a slender hand reached up to tug Lois back down with an obviously painful pull at her hair.
"Hey! Stop it you two!" Clark called out when his young friend stepped inside beside him, trying to figure out what was going on.
It was at this moment that a blond head rose from behind the furniture, followed by naked shoulders and a naked chest.
"Clark!?" he heard Mayson stammer, before she was pulled back down by the black strap dangling from her neck.
"Wow, CK. Happy birthday, man! Who would have guessed Lois and Mayson were into that stuff," Jimmy gushed while patting Clark's back. "And they didn't even wait for you to get here."
"Jimmy, I think you'd better leave now," Clark said quietly, fully aware that it would be best if his young friend would not stay to see this to conclusion. It was bad enough that Lois and Mayson would be embarrassed in front of him, they didn't need Jimmy as a witness, too.
"Got it, CK. Have fun." Jimmy grinned and retreated through the door before Clark could say anything else about the matter. Oh well, he would clear it up later, and Jimmy wasn't a gossip, not when it came to his friends at least, so Lois' dignity should be safe until he got to talk to his young friend again.
"Alright, that's enough you two," Clark said to the brunette head with the slender hand attached to its face that had risen over the couch's backside once again.
Realizing he needed a more effective strategy, Clark went to the kitchen and filled the two-gallon bucket he had stored there before walking back to the catfight taking place in his living room.
"Last warning! Lois! Mayson! Stop it right now!" he tried to warn his partner and her very naked rival one last time.
Clark realized after a few seconds that his warning had had no effect. So he consigned himself to his fate of having to dry his furniture later on, took aim, and emptied the cold water on the scene in front of him. This promptly earned him their attention, not to mention very colorful curses describing his physical attributes, parentage, and sexual preferences, before two very wet women scurried away from the chaos they had caused.
>>Oh boy, why can't I just live a life less extraordinary?<< Clark sighed, before flopping down on the fortunately still dry couch cushions, ready to wait for a non-explanation once they had returned in a more presentable state.
It didn't take long for Lois and Mayson to return after their impromptu shower. Lois was the first, flopping down on his couch next to him, dressed in a set of sweats she had appropriated from his closet. And even with her still slightly disheveled look, he couldn't help but find her adorable. Now if he could just kiss the small cuts on her cheek better, everything would be alright.
Mayson was only a bare minute behind her rival, hastily closing the buttons on her tight blazer. And did he detect a slight limp in her step? She pointedly let herself down on the other end of his couch, folding her arms and giving both him and Lois a steely glance.
Clark decided to switch to the coffee table for a seat so he could face both of them and used the opportunity to hide a little smirk at their cattish behavior. Nor was his next comment completely in tune with his gentlemanly upbringing.
"Ladies, and please, I use this term in its loosest of forms, would either of you care to explain to me what I walked in on?" he asked, looking first at Lois, then at Mayson.
Lois was the first to answer. "I just got here, ready to surprise you with an Italian dinner, when I stumbled over the blond slut ready to give you more than a birthday song for a surprise."
>>So that's why she was naked,<< Clark thought while his eyebrow began to rise on its own volition.
"Who do you call a slut, you jezebel?" hissed Mayson. "At least I am not familiar enough with Clark's apartment to have my own key or prepare dinner for him when he gets home."
Only Clark's super-quick reflexes allowed him to pin both of the furies into their respective cushions before they could start off into round two.
"Hey, hey, hey! Cool it down you two," Clark tried to soothe them while fighting his own exasperation. He was now quite certain what they had been fighting about, and a small part of him found it immensely gratifying to have two gorgeous women going teeth and claws over him, but enough was enough. Clark took a deep breath and decided to end this comedy once and for all. He just hoped Lois would appreciate it.
"Mayson, I do find it very flattering that you would try to do such a thing, but why would you think I would be happy about finding a naked woman in my apartment?" Clark tried to let her down gently.
"I... Clark, if it is because of *her*, I can understand. I'm not going to break the two of you up, but you haven't even mentioned being already involved with anybody, much less *her*," Mayson attempted to justify herself.
"So you really believe I'm a guy who would *want* a... a..."
"'Stripper' is the word you are looking for, Clark," Lois interjected, leaving Mayson to bristle.
"...*naked* woman his apartment?" Clark finished, shooting his partner an admonishing look.
"Well, you haven't been responding to any of the *other* signals I've sent your way. I just thought it was time to take the initiative," the blonde reasoned, her tone having taken on a dejected manner.
"Look Mayson, you are a successful, intelligent, and beautiful woman. I'm sure you are going to make some guy very happy one day," Clark began and raised his hand to stop any further remarks. "But I'm *not* him. I am already in love with another very successful, brilliant, and gorgeous woman. I'm sorry if I haven't made it clear enough before. I truly am sorry for that."
"Well, I hope you and Lois are going to be very happy together. You deserve each other," Mayson spat while jumping up from the couch and rushing for the door. "Please, don't send me an invitation to the wedding."
And with those words the door slammed shut, leaving Clark to wince at her outburst.
"Is she right, Clark?" Lois asked diminutively.
"Of course, Mayson. So do you love me?" Lois asked him again.
Clark took another deep breath, realizing his next word would forever change his relationship with the love of his life sitting in front of him. He just hoped he didn't send her running for the hills.
"Yes, Lois, she is right," Clark answered before crouching down in front of her, taking her right hand between his larger ones. "I love you."
"Oh, Clark, then why her? Why couldn't you tell me so before? Why did you let me get all worked up about a blond hussy? W-mmph."
Lois suddenly found herself unable to speak due to a pair of male lips pressing onto hers. And in that moment Lois knew that the answers to the questions she had babbled about didn't matter, for she had just figured out an even bigger secret. Her partner was in love with her. No, delete that. Her partner *loved* her. Her, not the blond hussy, or any other woman. And right now, with his lips caressing her own, that was the only answer she needed.
And perhaps the candlelight dinner she had brought with her wouldn't go to waste after all, even if they had just turned their first date upside down, with the kissing part getting moved to before the dinner. And a small part of her brain hoped he had a decent microwave, because the food would surely be cold by the time they would get to it. Then, even those thought processes ceased and Lois lost herself in the most intense kiss of her life.
This story was written for Barbara (Bakasi).
The three things she wanted to see had been:
-- Mayson Drake
-- Clark's tie (not tied around his neck)
Something she hadn't wanted in this story was a happy little chat about the weather between the aforementioned people.
The setting should Season 2.