By Various Authors
Submitted: April, 2007
Summary: This theme brings its readers many things: laughter, loss, revelations and quiet regret. Join these fantastic authors as they bring you small snippets from the lives of our favorite characters.
NOTE: This started out as a fairly simple challenge on the http://www.lcficmbs.com/ message boards. The idea was to write a 100 word drabble based on a set theme. Before I knew it we had a handful of people participating and it has now become a weekly challenge. These drabbles are fairly simple to write but we have had some amazing entries as you will see below. We hope you enjoy these as much as we all had writing them. — Jojo
By Lara Moon
Authors Note: It's an "adaptation" of an episode. And before anyone starts with the "not another TOGOM" please know that this is my first. And I absolutely could not help myself.
Midnight was just a few short minutes away.
As the container filled up with cement, Lois Lane knew that it was all over. She would never see tomorrow. Her life flashed in front of her eyes: an unhappy childhood, disastrous relationships, a job she lived for, Lex Luthor, Superman. And Clark.
Was there any point in living anyway, she wondered. Clark had been killed earlier tonight. Killed while saving her life. Holding on to shreds of hope that she may be seeing him again, up there, Lois closed her eyes and waited for midnight to come and take her away.
It was a cloudless midsummer, midweek night. There was an all-night party going on in the apartment next door, so Lois decided to stay up all night. In her skin-tight, midnight-blue nighty, she was looking out the window, admiring the night sky. She contemplated the men in her life:
Superman, her knight in shining armor — or, rather, tight-fitting tights of bright blue spandex.
And the man with poor sight, a knight of the pen. The man she always went to when in fright.
She should have seen right away that, for her, only Clark was right.
At night she would lie in her bed and fantasize about telling him. Sometimes she barged right into his apartment and told him and other times he was the one to confess to her. There were nights she almost had the courage to call him and tell him right there how she felt, but the clock on her nightstand would glare at her, showing the late hour, and she would lose her nerve. Closing her eyes, she would pray for the strength to tell him in the light of the day when the comfort of darkness was no longer there.
Midnight. If he flew slowly enough, it could be midnight for a full twenty-four hours. Or he could experience midnight twenty-four times. Midnight in Madrid, Malmo, Munich. Midnight in Mayaguez, Melbourne, Manchester. He needed the stillness and solitude of midnight. Lois had just said yes to Lex Luthor. How could she do that? How?
Maybe if he just told her the truth then things would be different. Would they? No, he didn't think they would. She wasn't ready to know that Clark Kent was Superman. And he wasn't ready to tell her. He sighed. It was midnight in Metropolis. Again.
Drabble #5 and #6
He woke as the extra beat of Lois' heart gave his lullaby a slightly new rhythm. Everything else was the same, returning to normal as her heart continued its steady beat. She was breathing evenly, her chest rising and falling slowly. Those lovely, harmless extra beats of her heart were surely part of the pleasant ways to wake up. Certainly not as good as one of her amazing kisses, but he could watch the tender lines of her lips. And when her faint sounds of sleeping lulled him back to his own dreamland, he would dream of kissing her.
He couldn't sleep, but he didn't mind. Actually it was a nice way of being sleepless, the nicest imaginable. He couldn't get enough of the faint sound that was filling the bedroom only for his ears. The faint but rapid heart beat resounded in his lovely wife. It was too quick to count and almost too quick to notice its unsteady rhythm, unlike the much slower and steadier heart beat of Lois. But the flimsy heart continued its work and filled a new little being with life. He drank in every second of it, knowing that this was just for him.
Drabble #7 and #8
By Cape Fetish
Authors Note: Well, I took a stab at it. A couple stabs, actually. I've got a couple companion pieces here. Just a slight difference in the writing, but I hope the feeling is changed a lot.
The cape, once bright and proud, lay in soiled tatters in the corner. What was once a symbol of Truth, of Justice, and — most of all — of Hope, now held nothing but memories of disaster and failure. Truth was no longer resplendent. Truth was screams of terror, cries of despair, the vacant stares of the dead. There had been no justice tonight. The young, the elderly, the innocent — none of them had been spared from the abyss of loss and death. Hope was lost here in the dark of his bedroom, alone with the knowledge he could never do enough.
The cape, once bright and proud, lay in soiled tatters in the corner. What was once a symbol of Truth, of Justice, and — most of all — of Hope, now held nothing but memories of disaster and failure. Truth was no longer resplendent. Truth was screams of terror, cries of despair, the vacant stares of the dead. There had been no justice tonight. The young, the elderly, the innocent — none had been spared from the abyss of loss and death. Hope would be found in the dark of his bedroom, with the woman who believed whatever he could do was enough.
By Anne Spear
Author Note: I couldn't resist trying one. It's based on my story "Tales from the Krypt" available on the archive (shameless plug!)…
Since gaining her powers, she found that she just didn't need to sleep as much anymore. Instead, she preferred to fly. Sometimes an updraft would cause her to lose her balance, but only for a moment and then she would be off at full speed. She smiled, a big toothy grin, as she did loop-de-loops in midair, sure because of the late hour that no one was watching. Thirteen-year-old Bobby Kent knew that his big sister would be really pissed to know that he knew this secret that she'd been keeping for the last three years. She'd get over it!
He flew through the black midnight blanket of stars, insecure in his ability to stop the leviathan that threatened his adopted home. Another twenty minutes passed, and he brought the air tank to his face just before oxygen deprivation could blacken his vision. Up ahead, the asteroid came into his sight and he poured on the speed, faster, as fast as he could make himself go in the nearly frictionless almost-void. He thrust his fists in front of him, aiming for the target he had been drilled on back home. Impact! And his world became another midnight.
Midnight — when a city that never sleeps takes a nap. He listened to his city from his perch beneath a globe atop a building he knew as well as his own apartment. His city. Was it presumptuous to call it that? He wasn't sure. The newspaper published in the building below called him their favorite son, the Man of Steel. A reporter at that same paper named him Superman. Was that presumptuous as well?
Midnight — when thoughts of the city below and all the people of Earth worried his mind.
Sirens. A new day. Time to get back to work.
By The Little Tornado
The dreams always woke her up. No, that was wrong, she always woke herself up before they continued.
Coward, her brain taunted her.
She, a coward? Not tonight.
She always dreamed of him coming to her. Holding her, whispering in her ear, all that he longed to do to her for so long.
How he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, nibble on her earlobe, bite her lip, his mouth closing over hers…
She moaned. She always woke up before anything happened.
She closed her eyes. In her mind, she reached up and took off his glasses…
By Catherine Bruce
She felt like Cinderella.
No… he was Cinderella, and the clock tower had struck its final sound and the spell was wearing off. She wasn't sure if that made her Prince Charming or the evil stepmother. No, it wasn't in this fairytale for her to be his Prince Charming.
Evil stepmother. Definitely.
She brushed aside the ragged slip of cloth to reveal more of what he had hidden from her. She had believed it had been someone else keeping them apart.
Looking up into his heartbroken eyes, she realized that in the end it didn't matter. She loved him still. More?
"So that's what you've been hiding."
His eyes followed her every movement. Suddenly feeling overheated with desire, his heart started to beat faster as his eyes were drawn to her curvaceous… assets. He'd never been the type of man that ogled women shamelessly, but she wasn't just any woman.
She was special.
The midnight color of her hair caught the light as she moved, and he could imagine that her dark eyes would've been sparkling had she been facing him. For the moment he was content to watch her from afar.
She was the woman he'd been waiting for-the woman of his dreams.
She was Rehalia
By Nancy V. Sont
It was nearly midnight. Lois had come over with movies and pizza. Clark had sat beside her. Comfortably. They'd laughed, argued and teased. How often had they done this? They hadn't even looked at the paperwork they were supposedly going over.
The movie credits were running. Crusts of pizza had slid from the precariously placed box on the coffee table to the carpet when Lois had yawned and stretched her legs.
Clark's arm was across the back of the couch almost touching Lois. Another perfect evening. He'd tell her in a minute, as soon as the clock stopped chiming.
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