Author's Notes: I do not own the characters. Song lyrics written by Angus and Malcolm Young so due credit to them, AC/DC and any others that can lay claim to the song's rights. Also, credit to the episode's writer Steven S. DeKnight and director Jeannot Szwarc as I've borrowed from a deleted scene.
THE TROUBLE WITH ELECTRIC CURRENTS.
The pre-show.
"A fine choice, young man. I'll have it ready with a new ribbon by tomorrow afternoon. Can you swing by then?" offered the pawn broker slash antique dealer. The item in question was an antique in terms of age, but had been in use for most of its life and had been very well maintained to judge by its condition. Clearly the previous owners placed great value in it as it looked immaculate to Clark's untrained eye.
Clark stood by the counter of the pawn broker and antique store in Metropolis, nodding to the man and admiring the item, pleased that he'd found the perfect gift. While it was highly unlikely that Chloe would actually use it, the inspiration and motivation it could generate would stand his best friend in good stead in the years to come. It was an Underwood typewriter made in 1899, so it was well over 100 years old. Anyone looking at it would realise it was old but nobody would guess that it could possibly be from the 19th century unless they were an expert.
Clark had been thinking for several weeks over what to get Chloe for her 18th birthday. They were graduating from high school this year and he wanted to get her a present befitting of someone looking to move into the shark-infested waters of the big wide world, and who was destined to make a splash in her chosen field. A gift from the past to denote a step into the future seemed highly appropriate given how it was only a few months ago that everybody believed Chloe had been killed in an explosion while holed up at one of the FBI's safehouses. That she could look to the future at all was a minor miracle in itself. With Pete having left Smallville and Lana having found a new boyfriend, he'd found himself getting closer to Chloe. In a purely platonic sense.
He'd been discussing with his parents ideas for what might make a good gift, and they'd been generous enough to double what he was prepared to spend. It was Martha Kent's suggestion that he look for something that might help Chloe out as she took her first steps into the world of 'proper' journalism. Having considered a myriad selection of books, he figured that Chloe could source these from a library to help with her studies, and the university would be listing essential texts for her course in any case. He looked up journalism conventions on the internet but swiftly shelved that idea as it didn't exactly scream 'birthday gift'. Then it hit him. When he and Lois were searching for Chloe once it transpired that she might still be alive, they'd stumbled upon a name from the past that Chloe, Lex and General Lane had been using as a code name to maintain the secrecy. They'd been protecting her from any further retribution at the hands of Lionel Luthor. He was still ruthless, powerful and manipulative from within the confines of his prison cell.
Nellie Bly. Chloe's hero, and one of the pioneer's of investigative journalism at the turn of the last century. Clark discovered via a lengthy yet interesting internet search a great deal about Nellie Bly's life and could see how she was such an inspiration for Chloe. If he could find something that represented a shared link between the two journalistic go-getters, he believed it would be the perfect gift. He found numerous pictures of Nellie hard at work on her typewriter and realised that the typewriter was the perfect link. Chloe would no doubt understand the importance of a machine that was considered cutting edge for its time, and no doubt sped up the process of getting Nellie's work into the public eye. It didn't take much to learn that the typewriter was an Underwood, since those were the machines of choice in that bygone age.
And it was with that that he was now stood outside the store. It was Saturday afternoon and he wasn't all that busy. A thought occurred to him.
About a week ago, he'd been woken up shortly after 3:00 in the morning by the persistent ringing of his cellphone. Who would be calling him at that time? He'd only just got comfortable in his own bed after spending seemingly an age on the couch thanks to a certain bossy, opinionated and infuriating former house guest. It was the bossy, opinionated and infuriating former house guest who was calling him. Was this bed ever going to feel like his again?
"Smallville, you up?"
"Lois? Well I am now!" he griped. "You do know what time it is right?"
"The night is still young, Boy Scout. And anyway, I wanted to call you before I forgot in the morning."
"Alright Lois," Clark yawned. "What is so important for you to be ringing me at this late hour?"
Lois wasn't slurring and sounded way too chipper. He could hear some other girls talking and giggling away merrily in the background. "We just got back from crashing a sorority shindig, and it's given me an idea so listen up. We should have a birthday party for Chloe's 18th in your barn."
Clark was still half asleep and struggling to process what she was telling him. "What?"
"P-A-R-T-Y?" Lois spelled out for him, sighing in irritation. "For my cuz, in your barn?"
"No!" Clark insisted, the vehemence at odds with his slumbering state.
"NO?!" yelled Lois, obviously surprised at Clark's unwillingness to be forthcoming in marking her cousin and his best friend's milestone.
"No Lois," he explained, realising he needed to placate Lois in order for her to lower her volume. "Look, I want to celebrate too, but I have somebody from Princeton coming over that same day."
Lois was amused. "You applied to Princeton? I didn't know they did agriculture courses." She could hear Clark's irritable groan over the line.
"History actually. It's a big wide world out there, and it's time for me to get out and see it."
Lois was impressed. She was silent for a few seconds, smiling into her phone before speaking up again. "Wow! Who knew the farmboy wanted to expand his horizons huh?"
"If Met U offer me a football scholarship, that's another avenue I'd like to look at."
Almost immediately he regretted disclosing so much to her. Why did he feel the need to share that? He'd yet to discuss that option with his parents given how it was such a thorny issue in light of his abilities, and now he was blurting out the idea to Lois of all people.
"Aww, you wanna follow me to Met U," Lois continued to tease.
"Much as I would love to discuss my future plans with you, Lois," Clark began on a note thick with sarcasm, "This meeting with the guy from Princeton is important. We can't have a party in the barn. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my nice comfortable bed."
He heard the huff of disappointment from Lois, and picked up on her muttering "We'll see about that!" which made him grin for the first time.
Lois decided to take pity on him and end the conversation. "Well, I'll just let you get back to your beauty sleep, Princess Plaid. See ya!"
Before Clark could utter a grumble or offer a retort, Lois hung up. He could only slump back into his pillow in frustration. She had a gift for annoying the hell out of him like nobody else. She'd broken his sleep and he was certain his protests about no parties in the barn were going to be ignored.
Met U's campus wasn't far away. Mulling it over, Clark decided he needed to clarify the 'no party' rule with Lois. He also wanted to find out what she might have bought her cousin. Knowing Lois as he'd come to do in a very short space of time, it was bound to be something from left-field. Lois Lane wasn't one for the conventional. Whipping out his cellphone, he dialled her number. After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. No matter, he'd try again. Same outcome. The third attempt proved to be just as fruitless so this time he left a short voice message to say he was in town and heading for the campus. She was bound to reply once she learned he was heading her way.
He zipped over to the campus grounds where there were a number of people milling about. Most of them seemed to be chilling out in the small tree-lined park within the grounds, basking in the sun. The atmosphere was relaxed. It was only now that Clark realised he didn't actually know which dorm Lois was staying in but, as if the gods had wanted to provide some assistance, his super-hearing picked up the sound of loud rock music. Working out which direction the sound was coming from, he walked towards a building housing the dorms. It was as good a place as any to start. Opening the main doors, he stepped to one side to let a couple of girls exit. Both blonde, both scantily dressed and both clearly dazzled, they smiled and looked at him a little lustily. Obviously, hormones raged when young people were away from home and mingling with other young people.
Looking around the atrium inside the building, he followed the noise until he came to a door which you needed a swipe card to open. He'd have to wait until somebody came down and opened it on their way out. To pass the time, he checked his phone once more. No reply. Just then, a dark-skinned girl with frizzy hair, a slim waist and frankly huge boobs opened the door, only to see a tall plaid-clad lump in her way.
"Are you lost?"
Clark turned around sharply. "What? No, actually, I'm looking for somebody. Do you know Lois Lane?"
The girl smiled, showing off her pearly whites. "Yeah I might." She was also giving Clark the once over.
"She's not answering her phone and I don't know which dorm she's in. I'm just following the sound," he replied, circling a finger in the air to denote the strains of what he knew to be 'Run To The Hills' by Iron Maiden. It was a tune that Lois had blasted out of his CD player at home on more than a few occasions.
The girl laughed out loud, nodding in recognition at how the tall handsome guy in front of her had her friend so accurately pegged.
"Yeah, dat's mah babygirl Lo, always bangin' da tunes!" The girl then offered her hand to introduce herself. Her accent was quite obviously urban African-American, possibly from somewhere like Philly, The A or Mobtown. "I'm Rhonda."
Clark shook it. "Clark Kent."
Rhonda looked somewhat surprised. "You Clark Kent? Damn, babygirl talks about you all da time!"
"Really?" Clark asked nervously. What exactly was she saying about him? Wait…she was actually talking about him?
"Yeah," said Rhonda. "Man, you is a lot cuter dan wha' she said!"
Clark blanched at that. Obviously Lois must have painted him to be a total dork. Maybe she'd been a lot more scathing in her description of him. None of that was of any consequence right now though. Rhonda was clearly in a rush to be somewhere so she swiped her card to open the door.
"Why don' cha head on up. Second floor, room 22. Or jus' follow da sound," Rhonda smiled once more. He had to admit she was cute.
Clark stepped through the door, thanking her and making his way up the stairs. Just as he got past the first floor, he heard the song change to another one he was familiar with thanks to Lois. Making his way along the second floor corridor, he glanced at his phone and wasn't at all surprised to see that there'd still been no reply from Lois. The noise was getting cacophonous as he passed the various dorm rooms, some of which were open. Then he saw the closed door of room number 22. He knocked on the door loudly, wanting to be heard above the din.