So, good & fanfic is always an oxymoron. At least to me that is. So many crappy stories exist that you could fill a thousand blogs with them alone. Hell, if I cared enough, that’s would provably be the next blog I would make. Luckily, I just don’t care enough to do it. However, every-so-often I find a few morsels that are worth mentioning. That are actually good pieces of writing! Sure, they ain’t perfect and they are their writer’s fantasies on the page, but all fiction is like that. And this is decent fiction.
So, I’ll shut up now and let you read for yourself.
A Welcome Ache
By saavikam77
From: http://saavikam77.livejournal.com/253265.html
A day never passed that Martha didn’t think of her husband. As the years wore on, the minutes spent pining for Jonathan grew fewer, and the ache grew less sharp, but still, he was never far from her mind. The littlest thing would bring his memory rushing back, the sight of his jacket still hanging on the hook by the door, the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee in the morning, the autumn sun rising over the fields, and she’d come to welcome the little reminders of him, with all the bittersweet longing they brought with them.
On the day she stood in the office of Smallville’s Justice of the Peace with Clark and Lois, Jason’s little hand tucked into hers as the JP recited the simple ceremony the happy couple had chosen, her head swam with memories of her years with Jonathan. Their first kiss, their wedding day, long days spent working the farm, holidays spent tucked in together in front of the warm fire while Clark played outside, their last day spent together before he’d died. He’d been the best husband a man could ever hope to be and a woman could ever hope to have, had always made her feel loved, wanted, and needed, and she’d never regretted a minute she spent with him.
Wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye with a tissue she’d brought specifically anticipating the need, Martha watched her son take Lois’s hand in his and gently place the simple platinum band on her ring finger, his vows falling from his lips in a soft litany of utter devotion. She knew then without a shadow of a doubt that he would be just as wonderful a husband to his wife as Jonathan had been to her.
And at that thought, the tears began to spill freely down her cheeks, her heart swelling with love and joy.
Red Tights: My Superman Fantasy
By Esther Huffleclaw
From: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8656371/1/Red-Tights-My-Superman-Fantasy
When I was a girl, I learned that when I grew up I could be a writer. Writers can change the world, and women can be writers. Although I read many stories by women writers, there were few stories about women writers. There was a story about a girl whose teacher loved her writing, but criticized her many italics, and there were others whose stories were written as diaries. I learned that women are the best writers.
When I was a teenager, I read the story of Lois Lane, the woman who won the love of Superman. I remembered the comics I had read as a child in my uncle’s house in northern BC; I remembered how much I had loved the story of how Lois Lane pursued the Man of Steel, at first only looking for an interview, then later seeking and winning his heart. I had once wanted to be a nurse, but then I read about the writer, Lois Lane. I would have to grow up a writer and I would have to find a Superman.
The first time I saw him, I would think he was a bird. He would be so far away, so high. Then I would realize that he was not a bird, and I would think him to be an airplane. He would swoop low and I would realize he was a man, a man flying without wings. I would be a young journalist the day I saw my Superman fly away into the clouds. The critics would accuse me of repetition and no imagination, but I would write about only him. I would beg him for a meeting, for an interview. Every time he appeared, I would be there with a camera and a notepad. We would settle into a comfortable routine of cat and mouse.
Even when I got used to the game, I would want even more to meet him. I would not care how long he dodged me; I would not give up. Suddenly, one day, another writer-a man-would catch my Superman and interview him. A rivalry would be birthed.
My Superman, now exposed by my rival’s article, would come to me one day and carry me away.
The earth fell away beneath us, and I gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter. I had been on an airplane before, but this was nothing like that; here, the distance from the ground and the movement were so much more immediate.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said to me.
“I’m not afraid,” I said out of pride.
(“But it’s so high,” I would have said in real life, mad at story heroines for lying so much. “I’m terrified. Do you have to fly so high? So fast?”)
“We’re almost there,” Superman said. “Relax.”
We landed on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean with salt spray crashing on the shore. Superman steadied me on the wet, slippery rocks and helped me to sit down on a drier one. We sat for a moment in silence, gazing at the sea.
“I’m sorry,” Superman said. “I’m sorry I gave your interview to Clark.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. In fact, this was the meeting I had dreamed of for so long-the interview was secondary. Being with him was better than writing a story about him. But I still resented his openness with another, with my rival, a man.
After a few more minutes of silence, he took me home. The flight back was not as terrifying-maybe I was getting used to this. We landed on my balcony.
“Thank-you,” I said, glad to be out of the sky.
“Good-night,” he said. Then he flew away.
I watched him become a dark slash against the sky, then a dot, then a speck, then disappear altogether.
He came often after that, appearing at my window to take me on an adventure through the night. As I lost my fear of flying, our flights became exhilarating escapes and I eagerly looked forward to them. Sometimes, he would let me glide alone for short distances, always catching me long before I began to fall.
At this same time, my feelings towards my rival were changing. Although we still competed for the best stories, we became friends. Sometimes we would even collaborate on a story, sharing the work and sharing the credit. Slowly, our friendship deepened and one day I realized I loved him. This surprised me, for I always thought I loved my Superman and no other. After much thought, I decided that Superman was not for me; he was an exciting dream, but I needed someone real. So, when Clark asked me to marry him, I said yes.
When Superman arrived at my window that night, I had a speech planned for him. I was going to tell him that I loved him, but it could never lead to anything. I was going to tell him that I had found someone else. I was going to ask him to stop coming to my window. I never said any of those things. Superman spoke first.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said. “I live two lives: one as Superman, and one as a regular human being. You know me in both lives; I am Clark Kent.”
I was stunned and angry. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.
“I wanted you to love me for me, not because I am Superman,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
I forgave him because I loved him. At least now I knew how Clark had gotten the interview. After we married, I was so happy. Superman no longer came to my window, but we still went on late-night flights-now we jumped out of our own window together.
My real life used to be so disappointing. For years, I watched as my friends found love and success and I wondered what I was doing wrong.
But then one day I realized that the mild-mannered young man who had become my best friend and confidant was also the super man I had been looking for. I asked him to marry me and we have lived happily ever after.
The Lost Goodbye
By RouthFan
From: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6033307/1/The_Lost_Goodbye
“How could this have happened?” Lois’s voice came out as a barely audible whisper as she choked back tears.
She stared blankly at the floor, refusing to look up at the handsome man that sat next to her on the park bench. It was of necessity to stare incessantly at the mulch beneath her tiny feet, for fear that if she gazed into Clark’s concerned blue eyes, she wouldn’t be able to maintain the remaining composure she had left. His hand rhythmically stroked her back as she leaned against his sturdy torso, allowing the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to soothe her.
Despite the comfortable temperatures, low humidity and the gentle early summer breeze that lifted the hair from Lois’s face, the air felt heavy and oppressive. The couple seemed oblivious to those that milled about on the pleasant afternoon carrying on their errands, shopping and late lunches. Laughter drifted from a table across the street from the park where Lois and Clark sat in the shade of an old crepe myrtle.
Clark barely moved as he held Lois’s tiny hands in his, as if they would shatter. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead but she seemed unaware of the attempt to comfort her. In fact, she almost seemed unaware anyone was even there.
Clark found himself unable to prevent the scene from vividly repeated itself again and again and again. Everything just seemed wrong, as if the whole scenario was something from a dream. This wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be.
It was simply a cold, nothing more and Lois just didn’t understand why it was such a necessity to Clark for her to waste time at the doctor. Clark’s incessant pestering about the chest congestion that wouldn’t go away had grown too frequent and he knew it was easier to shut the man up and make a trip to the doctor instead of ignoring him.
He knew her well; therefore he conveniently knew how to push her buttons. So what had begun as a routine exam caused the physician’s brow to furrow and ask for more tests.
That was a week ago. After the blood was drawn and chest x-rays were completed, she received a phone call from the office to return for a follow-up.
Clark stood beside Lois with his hand on her shoulder as she sat on the exam table, nervously swinging her feet as the doctor came into the room. As a journalist, it was something of a skill or learned practice to dissect someone’s expression and extract additional information, but the lines in the doctor’s face were neutral, unreadable.
The doctor washed her hands, opened the chart as she sat on a stool and turned to face Lois and Clark. As a sigh escaped the seasoned physician, the pit of Clark’s stomach fell away and immediately he knew the news wasn’t going to be something either of them wanted to hear.
“Ms. Lane, the test results have come back positive.” She stood, took an x-ray film that had been brought with her and slipped it onto the viewing panel. After the light was flicked on, the image of her semi-occluded lungs glowed in contrast to the x-ray’s black film. “As you can see,” she gestured to both individuals “your lungs have quite a bit of infiltrate, bilaterally in fact, which basically means you have a pretty decent amount of fluid in your lungs, which is why you’ve felt so congested and have been coughing lately. But this,” she circled a bright white mass in the lower lobe of the left lung “is what really is the problem. It’s a malignant tumor.” She paused and with regret, shook her head. “It’s lung cancer. I’m so sorry.”
Clark knew something wasn’t right with her lungs; they had sounded horrible. He should have seen it; he should have been more vigilant, more persistent and checked more frequently. He continued to mentally berate himself for his inability to spot the tumor, because it would have been easily treated if he had found it when it formed. But when there were multiple tumors on the x-ray, it seemed to indicate the main one had been there for awhile and had spread.
Neither Clark nor Lois held any specific qualifications in the medical industry, but both were well aware that when tumors were found in multiple locations, it wasn’t a positive outlook. It was an aggressive form of lung cancer and the life expectancy wasn’t long. A year at best.
“Lois, I’m so sorry,” Clark murmured. His large arms encompassed the small woman and he held her to his chest as her frame rocked violently as she cried. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all he could say. He should have found it early.
This time, he couldn’t save her.
The room was quiet, save the ragged labored breathing of the exhausted woman that had wasted away to almost skin and bones. Clark shut out the sounds of the outside world; he didn’t want to hear them. Tears began to splash down his cheeks. He knew as her heart rate slowed, it wouldn’t be long. “Lois, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t save you.”
Despite the morphine drip that eased the pain and the oxygen tube, Lois’s eyes continued to sparkle with a vibrancy that betrayed the dying body that encased them. She smiled. “How many times have I told you, that you can’t always be there for me? You’re never going to get it, are you?” She rolled her eyes, and paused to battle for oxygen. “Please, Clark, go.”
He protested, shaking his head and took her hand in both of his. “No. I’m staying here.”
The terminal and impending nature of her death that loomed in the shadows was something Clark couldn’t spare her and they both knew it. But he could save others.
“We both know that there’s nothing more that you can do for me. I don’t need you anymore,” she smiled bravely. “But the rest of the world does.”
“But I need you, Lois,” he choked on his own words. “I don’t know how to be here, how to live on without you. I don’t know if I can.” He laid his head on her chest. “Lois, I love you so much. I can’t be without you.”
“I love you, Clark.” A frail hand pulled his chin from her chest and their eyes met. “You’re Superman, you’ll be alright,” she stated with finality and confidence that indicated the argument was over.
Sensing the conversation had drawn to its natural conclusion, Clark’s hand drifted along the contours of her skin, along her jaw line and combed through her hair on the pillow. Clark smiled for his own reassurance to belay the devastation that lurked beneath his skin and bent forward to brush his lips across hers again.
It was the last time.
Clark gasped and his eyes flung wide open into darkness. His racing heart and jagged breathing drowned the other sounds that usually flooded his ears. Alone, he glanced at the alarm clock that provided the only light in the dimly lit apartment bedroom and remained shaken by the vivid dream that still tugged at the edges of his consciousness.
With the world momentarily silent and cries for Superman absent, he flopped back against the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. The difficult choices that plagued him and had swirled about his head no longer seemed complicated. After he returned to Earth, Lois, despite her pent-up anger, risked her life to save his and they had a son. A son who would need his father.
The moment of calm passed as quickly as it came, and someone crying for Superman filled his ears. As he rocketed into the night sky over the bay, he promised himself that he wasn’t going to let his family slip through his fingers.
It had been a long night, which thusly translated into a busy morning for the newspaper to cover all that Superman had accomplished while most of Metropolis’s residents were asleep. As Clark entered the bullpen, predictability didn’t disappoint; everyone swarmed as hornets often did. He needed to talk to Lois and thankfully, she sat at her desk, completely oblivious to the surrounding chaos.
Clark weaved amidst the zig and zags of copy boys, section editors and other staff to his desk that was across from his partner’s. “Morning Lois,” he managed brightly despite his own fatigue from the sleepless and draining night, never mind the dream that scared him far greater than anything else ever did. “What’s going on in the world?”
“I’m busy Clark, and where have you been? Didn’t you see what happened overnight? Superman’s been a busy guy and I’m up to my elbows in leads on about five different stories, one of which I’ve got a deadline for in about ten minutes…” she droned on and lost herself in her own clutter of notes, frustrated at the tight timeline. “But thank goodness at least one of us,” she gestured to herself with the point of a pencil “can handle it. Oh, and Perry also wants me to miraculously pull another quote from Superman about the dam he prevented from collapsing in China, never mind he seems to think I’ve got you-know-who on speed dial. If it were only that simple,” she grumbled. “Anyway, we’ll chat later, okay?”
Lois fluttered her fingers distractedly in Clark’s general direction as she sipped her coffee and then completely returned her attention to the organized chaos she often referred to as her notes.
Clark’s hands firmly took the back of her chair as he took a deep breath and spun her to face him.
“Hey, I was in the middle of something!” She protested with bewilderment as her rounded eyes began to search her partner for an explanation.
He pulled Lois to her feet and didn’t give Lois a chance to pause for rebuttal or an improved grasp on what he was about to do, because if he did, he would have never been able to mount enough willpower to undertake a second attempt.
Clark pulled Lois toward him, slid his hands to her face and pulled her into him, kissing her without any reserve or concern that his actions were completely out of character for the steadfast mild mannered reporter.
Immediately an eerie and hush silenced the close vicinity of the desks as others simply stared at the man who seemingly lost his mind, some seemed to have felt regret for him and the awkward moment he created in a hasty flash of foolishness. As Lois pulled away to gain her breath and digest had just happened, she recoiled and slapped him soundly across the face. Jimmy, who was nearby winced as he was nearly convinced it was the slap heard through the entire building.
“Just what the hell was that about?” She hissed. Lois’s eyes burned as her angry façade trembled. The petite woman grabbed her partner before he was able to formulate a reply and dragged the much larger man through the bullpen floor to the elevators. “You’ve got some nerve, Clark. I know you had a crush on me before you left, but I just ended a very serious relationship with Richard. You’ve got no right to come up and kiss me like that,” she shuddered.
Lois punched the button for the roof exit and glared at him. “Unlike some people I know, I’m not going to have a scene in front of everyone. I’m going to chew your ass out in private.”
“I promise, Lois it’s the last time I’ll ever do that again.”
“I’d certainly hope so,” she huffed.
Clark loosened his tie in a nervous fashion as he watched the numbers climb and finally come to a stop at the roof level.
“Because the last thing I want to do is loose you, Lois.”
“Loose me,” she echoed. “Clark, you’ve never had me.”
She did her best to ignore the pleasant buzzing of electricity that still lingered on her lips and kept her knees locked in extension to prevent their collapse from a shockingly amazing kiss. Lois’s hand pressed the button to keep the door open to the elevator, regained her composure and swiftly exited the elevator into the small hallway leading to the rooftop exit.
“Yes, I did.” The door slammed as they exited the building onto the roof of the Daily Planet.
“Lois,” his firm statement of her name boomed across the vacant roof and caused Lois’s brisk strides to abruptly halt. She froze, and turned slowly. Her saucer sized eyes examined Clark in disbelief.
“Clark,” she whispered as her eyes lingered at the neckline of his shirt and her body began to shake has he continued to approach her.
Superman’s confident voice sent a ripple through the air. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
As Long as There’s Christmas (Part of the Across the Universe series)
By anissa7118 & kalalanekent
From: http://12days-of-clois.livejournal.com/144750.html
(Alley’s Note: Yes, I am aware this is February but this is well written and worth your time.)
Lois Lane woke early one morning, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings. Above her was an expanse of faintly glimmering white, cold and cheerless. She was warm and comfortable in a familiar bed, but nothing else seemed familiar. The walls were more sleek translucent white material that looked otherworldly beside her simple wardrobe and nightstand.
As always, it took a few moments for her to remember. Somehow her mind kept rejecting this reality, leaving her to experience the shock and loss anew every morning. She wasn’t on Earth anymore; she had been taken to a planet called Krypton. Lois was one of a hundred humans currently kept here to secure the cooperation of their families back home, all influential politicians or military leaders.
Still, she was lucky enough to be the ‘guest’ of the House of El. Kal-El tried to make her comfortable and happy; the Earth-style bed and furnishings were his idea. No other political prisoner had anything like it; no other Kryptonian was as fascinated by Earth culture as Kal-El was. Lois never got the sense that he looked down on her the way the rest of his people did. She could stand his incessant questions and intense curiosity in return for being treated as an equal.
Sometimes, though, he could be a little much. Like this morning, when he was standing at her door the instant she opened it. Lois managed not to flinch, arching an eyebrow at him questioningly. “Good morning,” he said. His English was excellent, just a little formal.
“Good morning. What’s up?” The first time she’d asked that, he had actually looked up, inducing a conversation about idioms.
Kal-El grinned broadly. Lois knew he was several years older, but sometimes his enthusiasm made him seem like a little brother. “It is the winter solstice – the Kryptonian solstice, true, but I thought it would be an appropriate time for your solstice celebrations.”
“Solstice celebrations?” God, she really needed coffee to keep up with these first-thing-in-the-morning conundrums.
At her blank look, he seemed worried. “It is a major celebration across the nation from which you came. Surely you know? I … I had made preparations… I researched Yule traditions very thoroughly…”
It finally clicked. “Oh, you mean Christmas?”
Relief flooded his expression. “Yes! You certainly have many names for what is functionally the same celebration.”
Christmas. I hadn’t even thought of Christmas. I don’t even know what month it is back home – it should still be fall. I can’t have been here six months already, can I? Lois forced aside the nostalgia ruthlessly. “You set something up for Christmas? For me?”
“Yes. I have a gift for you.” He was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes bright, and Lois couldn’t help grinning as she realized he was holding something behind his back. But what he handed her wasn’t the sort of gift she expected. Lois received it gingerly, afraid the many spiky points of crystal were sharp enough to cut.
Unlike most of the crystal she’d seen, it sparkled with many colors, mainly white but with hints of green, red, gold, blue, silver, and orange. After examining it for a moment, Lois was still clueless as to what it was – unless it was meant to be purely decorative. “It’s very pretty,” she finally said.
That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, apparently. “It is still in seed form. You have to water it. Come, decide where to place it.”
After a few moments of indecision, she got the odd spiky crystal placed to Kal-El’s satisfaction in a large metal basin set on the floor. He insisted that she pour the water over it from the carafe by the bedside. Bemused, Lois stood watching it, until he cleared his throat. “You will wish to step back…”
She did so, just before all the crystals dimmed in unison. That spooked her, and Kal-El was right beside her, soothing her. “Do not be afraid. It is merely a small electromagnetic pulse.” Lois glanced at him speculatively, wondering how that was supposed to reassure her, but the lights came back up a moment later.
Before she could ask a question, a strange sound caught her attention. Something like a chime that slid up and down the scale, coming from the spiky crystal seed. As Lois watched, it began to grow, rising toward the ceiling. The spikes branched, and branched again, light gleaming on each crystal point. The base grew broader while the top stayed narrow, giving the structure a conical shape. The glints of color began to grow into spherical forms near the ends of the spikes, while the central structure remained white. At the top, a bit of silver became a five-pointed star shape.
Lois gasped as she realized what it was: a Christmas tree, complete with ornaments. She stared open-mouthed, amazed by the level of detail. Sure, it really should have been green, but he must’ve seen pictures of artificial trees. And it was for her, he’d made this for her.
“Do you like it?” he asked, a note of anxiety in his voice.
Lois blinked and looked at Kal-El. Her astonishment must have seemed like a lack of response to him. “I love it,” she told him. “How … why… It’s beautiful. Did you make this yourself?”
He looked down, almost shuffling his feet. “I have some small knowledge of the art of crystal sculpture. Is it a good likeness?”
“It’s perfect,” she replied. Just then, the crystals of which it was made began to glow, very faintly, just about as brightly as the lights on a real tree would. Lois gasped again as the tinted light bathed her face in its glow. “That’s really, really spectacular, Kal-El. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve seen here.”
He beamed under that praise, meeting her eyes with his deep blue ones. His joy and delight seemed to call for something more, but Lois didn’t have the words to express how she felt. She knew that no one else on this planet would have thought to get a Christmas tree for her, and she was grateful for more than the gift itself.
Lois hugged him impulsively, forgetting for a moment how much his people dreaded a simple touch. Forgetting, in fact, that he wasn’t human at all, no matter how he looked and acted like one. It was something she was starting to take more and more granted. And something Kal-El didn’t seem moved to put an end to.
For an instant he stiffened at the unexpected contact, but Kal-El knew the quirks of the human race, and knew that this was a spontaneous gesture of affection and gratitude. One of several that had passed between them in the last months. And the more often they occurred, the more Lois Lane trusted him and his actions, the less the touch seemed intrusive. Instead of pulling away, he put his own arms around her. He was so much taller than Lois that her cheek rested on his chest, the softness of her hair just barely tickling his chin.
They stood like that a long moment, Lois startled by the warmth and safety of being wrapped in his embrace, Kal-El amazed at how natural this felt after his initial discomfiture. He, too, had no words to express his emotions, but after a moment he remembered what he’d meant to say when he gave her the seed crystal. “Merry Christmas, Lois.”
And Finally:
Super Secret
A poem by 1Superman4Me
From: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8585897/1/Super-Secret
A pair of glasses
A kindly face
A pair of blue eyes
A saving grace
A hidden secret
That he can’t bear alone
He imagines telling someone
Imagines what she’d thinkIf she knew his secret
That he hides behind
His glasses
Later he’s at home
Standing alone
He traces the S
On his spandex clad chest
And wonders if he’ll findA love
Someone to tell
Not sure if he can bear it
Tell the secretShare it
Tell her that you love her
And that you’re her Superman
Be for her all that you can
Clark tell your Lois
Show her what love is
Tell her that you care
That you’ll always be there
As a mere man
And a super one
Tell her that you’ll be the one
The one man who will always be by her side
So your secret no longer will you have to hide
So, that’s it for this time. I know this ran a bit long, but there are some great selections to read. If you like Superman that is . . .
