Lois Lane and her Complete Inability to Drown in Man Angst For Another Minute

[in_medias_res]

Lois loved her husband.

Lois loved her husband so much it terrified her sometimes, her heart racing with embarrassing ease at more than a few of his smiles. She loved him as Clark Kent and she loved him as Superman. She loved him as her coworker, as her partner, as her friend.

She was also literally ready to thwack him with a brick. A very real, physical brick.

If she thought about it for longer than a minute, she might put the brick in her purse, give herself a good swing. His head, after all, could probably crack planets. It was certainly hard enough.

How. How did he not-- how could he not-- was it about her? Did he honestly think she wouldn't be willing to talk options about this situation? After all, it wasn't like her father-in-law hadn't told her about his ponderous poking at the Batman-themed tie while they'd picked out wedding finery. It was an open secret, and weren't those like bread and butter to these local yokel Midwestern people?

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe what this situation needed was for a certain intrepid reporter to stomp her proverbial feet and bang the proverbial pans and holler in her great big Metropolis voice and get something done.

...at the very least, she'd feel better at calling them both out about it. It wasn't like it'd make things awkward for her, anyway. Tact was for people with time.

"Okay, Clark?" she announced, mid dinner, fork held up with a piece of delicious eggplant parmesan like a gavel. It might seem like it was coming out of nowhere, but it'd literally been percolating in her brain all day since the Justice League had stopped... which was it again? She'd already tossed the story at Perry and she was terrible at remembering her own work after it was off her screen.

Whatever. They hit a thing until it gave up and then Batman made a face and then Clark made an 'aw shucks' face and God, just thinking about it made her want to go back to the original brick idea.

"After dinner, you're flying the both of us to stately Wayne manor. Tonight. Because I cannot stand the thought of another day, even another hour, not dealing with the fact that you and Bruce obviously have a thing for each other." The eggplant gavel wobbled with deep passion. "You think I'll have an issue with it, Bruce has forgotten where his balls are since he hasn't just out and out asked me for a threesome like a grown fucking adult, and I am tired of waiting for you two to get your acts together."

She popped the food into her mouth.

"So tonight, after dinner. Got it?"