PART TWO (LOVERS), CHAPTER SIX

"She is becoming quite provoked."

"What? Which one?" said the groom, looking between his best man and the couple handfuls of children, five of whom were girls, riding bumper cars under their supervision.

"I am referring to Lois. Perhaps you should go to her."

Confused, Clark peered around at the areas of the carnival surrounding them. His search failed in turning up his fiancée, and he consequently redirected his gaze to Diana. "I don't even see her. How can you be sure?"

"Ask me again some other time. For now, go."

"Sorry, not happening. Not unless you're absolutely positive. My hearing hasn't triggered, so she can't be dealing with anything too upsetting."

Diana couldn't but enjoy a chuckle at Clark's reluctance.

"This isn't funny," he insisted, only half-smiling. "If you're wrong, she'll accuse me of stalking her and then she'll bawl me out for the next hour. And, frankly, I won't hesitate to implicate you if it comes to that."

Diana smirked, "Have faith, Sunshine. Even I would incite her wrath no sooner than you would."

"Here's hoping you mean that."

After pressing a kiss of gratitude to Diana's hand and waving to the few kids whose attentions he could draw, Clark extended his hearing beyond his immediate setting, seeking out Lois's heartbeat. Upon perceiving and focusing in on it, he noted its increasing rate and set off in its direction.

In making his way across the carnival grounds, Clark encountered a number of ambling weekend-long guests. Of them, several belonged to the group that he, Bart, and Jimmy regularly met up with to play or watch basketball. However, as those individuals were to join the younger members of the wedding party later that evening, when they were all to head to a nearby sports bar to view game seven of the NBA Finals, they said only a few cheerful words to Clark and allowed him to continue on. With the remaining wedding guests that he encountered, Clark was similarly fortunate. In their eyes, for as kind and courteous a young man as he seemed to be, the only interesting thing about him was the company he kept. And as he'd already received them the day before, the only further pleasantries they could think to exchange with him were smiling nods and passing mentions of how much they were enjoying themselves.

When Clark's lengthy trek finally brought him within view of Lois, he saw in her body language that she was just barely maintaining her façade of civility in speaking with the person opposite her, and he accordingly double-timed his stride.

"Actually, I never considered changing my name," replied Lois, wishing more than ever that she hadn't let her run to a washroom trailer separate her from all of her companions, save her personal attendant and her personal shader, both of whom remained steadfast in their duties to her.

"Professionally, you mean," said the older man, chuckling as if he needn't have bothered with phrasing his response as a question.

Masking her exasperation yet again, Lois took a moment to shift her weight and to adjust her hat. Familiar as she was with nuptial affairs, she'd known going in that her and her betrothed's wedding would entail an inevitable amount of unsolicited opinions and unwelcome probing from virtual strangers. She'd prepared herself accordingly, working out responses that would prevent her interrogators from pressing her too far on any given topic. And, as it was, she thought she'd done an admirable job of playing the gracious host during the hour before and the hour since her bridesmaid's defeat in the eating contest.

Nonetheless, the thirty-something Army major she'd met as she'd exited the washrooms had spent the past several minutes not only angling to assess how well she would conform to what he deemed a wife's proper role, but also endeavoring to sway her convictions whenever she implied herself opposed to any such conventional mold. She felt herself growing angrier and angrier by the second, which distracted her too much for her to invent a means of escaping the conversation. Stuck, she therefore bided her time with another curt reply, hoping that Dinah or Bruce would find her before she lost what little remained of her patience.

"No, I mean I never considered changing it in any way. Not professionally. Not legally."

"But why on earth wouldn't you?" asked the major, seeming genuinely concerned. "You must have grown up hoping for the day a man would come along and make you his lucky missus. All girls do."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm actually pretty sure some women out there aren't as interested in becoming a 'lucky missus' as in landing one or more of their own."

"Of course. But as for normal young ladies like yourself, it's generally understood that a wife taking her husband's name is one of the highest honors she can do him. It's a gesture of loyalty, of love."

Forcing a smile, Lois returned, "'Different strokes for different folks,' right? Actually, going back to my great-great-grandmother, the women in my mom's family have kept and passed on the de Chevalier surname to their daughters. Their husbands, if they've had husbands, wouldn't have married them in the first place if they couldn't get on board with that sort of tradition."

"Your father must be the exception, then. You are a Lane, no?"

"Sure, just not according to my birth certificate. But socially, me and my sister have always used 'Lane' on U.S. soil; it's easier for Américains to pronounce."

The major's brow furrowed in disapproval. "Well, despite all that," he replied, "there are ways for even you modern gals to show due deference to your husbands-to-be. You could always hyphenate. Or simply add on."

"Those are valid options, I suppose. They're just not for me."

The major paused, sighed. Then, in as patronizing a tone as Lois had ever heard, said, "You know, sweetheart, perhaps a decision this important would be best left with your groom. His view would be more sensible, I'm sure."

Having just parted her lips in order to spew the first word of what she intended to be a thoroughly profane rebuke, Lois was stopped short only by Clark's hand coming to rest on her lower back and his voice beating hers to the air.

"Here you are! I've been looking all over for you. Oh, pardon me, sir. How are you?"

In turning away to hide her exasperation and leaving the groom to run interference, Lois glimpsed her two attendants standing off at a remove. The stylist apprentice, in apology both for what she'd witnessed the bride endure and for her own uncertainty as to whether to intervene, mouthed a cringing "Sorry." Page, for his part, looked similarly contrite. Feeling for them, Lois managed to relax her features a bit and to roll her eyes at the situation. Just a few moments thereafter, she was then relieved to be led away by Clark, who'd dismissed the major by telling him that the Secretary of Defense had sent him to collect her.

"Thanks for the save," sighed Lois, leaning into Clark as he threaded his fingers into hers. "I was about to tear that guy a new one wide enough to roll a tank through."

Clark smirked, "There's an image."

"Oh, don't think that would've been the end of it. Next, I was gonna put in a call to The General. He hates that 'Me Tarzan, you Jane' crap. Thinks it disgraces the uniform. He would've gotten Major A-hole demoted, to say nothing of the hell he would've raised after hearing that that chauvinist basically called two of my parents deviants."

"Well, in case you're not content to stop there, don't hesitate to call me too. I may not have the knack for tearing, demoting, or hell-raising, but I'm told I do throw a decent punch for a mild-mannered man."

With a weary chuckle, Lois replied, "My hero. Where'd you come from, anyway?"

"The bumper cars."

"But that's clear across the way. Your hearing didn't trigger, did it? Because I was only annoyed, and if your threshold for my distress is getting that low, then -"

Tilting his chin down, Clark lowered his voice and headed off her concern. "- It didn't and it isn't. Diana told me you were, quote, 'becoming quite provoked.' Don't ask me how she knows these things. She just does."

"Whatever," replied Lois, surrendering to her mental exhaustion. "Is it time for us to get out of here yet?"

"Why? You don't seem hungry."

"That's because I'm not. It's just that I've been schmoozing for two whole hours - which is, like, an hour and fifty-nine minutes beyond what I can typically tolerate. So, now, all I wanna do is go spend the rest of my day around people I don't have to fake anything with."

Attempting to cheer her up, Clark replied that the carnival rides must've been a welcome relief from her obligatory mingling. Lois subsequently acknowledged that she still hadn't been on one, prompting her intended to immediately redirect their path toward the nearest mind-blowing attraction. She resisted, telling him that she'd rather go hide out in her rooms until it was time to depart for the rehearsal luncheon. He, however, wouldn't hear of her leaving without having at least some fun herself. Looking around, he soon caught sight of one of the carnival's less ostentatious amusements off in the distance. Smiling, Clark then told Lois that he had an idea and pulled out his mobile in order to let a few people know where to meet them.

Not ten minutes later, Lois's entire mood had changed as she laughingly resisted the peer pressure all around her.

"Oh, quit stalling, Lane!" insisted Dinah, speaking for the dozens who'd already gathered. "Get up there!"

"Nope. No way. He's going."

Clark ignored Lois removing his effects from his pockets and instead occupied himself with regaling the present company with his recollection of the only other occasion between him and his now-fiancée that had involved a dunk tank. "So, if anything, I think it's time for a little payback!" he ultimately concluded, stirring up the crowd's support.

The only persons on hand who replied by objecting were Hair and Makeup, both of whom were prepared to resort to extreme measures to prevent the bride and the groom from getting even a drop of chlorine water on themselves. However, their being informed that the tank's water contained only a mild, natural purifier allayed their anxieties, and they accordingly gave their go-ahead for the current shenanigans.

"He was an all-state quarterback in high school!" shouted Lois, having soon been persuaded up onto the perch above the tank. "How is this fair?! Seriously!"

The crowd below, which had grown to include the entire wedding party and a hundred or so other onlookers, gleefully booed Lois's feigned complaints, while Clark made a show of stretching out his arm in preparation for his three tosses.

Once set, Clark accepted a football from the dunk tank's supervisor and stepped up to the line several strides off from the target. For the sake of the spectacle, he missed his first toss by quite a bit; his second, by still more. The bride mocked him. The adults jeered him. The kids rooted him on as loudly as possible.

As Clark wound up for his third and final toss, he gave Lois a smirk, which she returned with a knowing laugh. As expected, he followed through with perfect ease, nailed the target dead-on, and sent her plummeting down into the water with an enormous splash.

The crowd continued to whistle and cheer as Clark jogged over to the tank and ascended the ladder leading up to its brim. Once at the top, he bent down and reached out to a wading Lois, grinning, "Makes all the schmoozing worth it, right?"

"Nearly," she giggled, ignoring his offered hand and instead grasping his necktie to guide his lips down toward hers. "Wanna help make up for the rest of it?"

"If it means finally getting to kiss you today, then - Whoa!"

Before the groom realized what was happening, one sharp tug to his tie disrupted his balance and brought him tumbling over - landing him splat in the water next to the delighted bride.