Disclaimer: DC owns them. Not mine, never will be. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.
Behind Every Great Man
By Arlene
After unlocking the door to their apartment, Clark Kent let his wife precede him. She was still babbling, and he allowed her to continue, knowing that it was a way for her to work off the day's frustrations. He grunted absently at the questions she shot at him; she wouldn't really be listening to his answers anyway. Lost in his own thoughts, her ramblings made a pleasant background noise.
" . . . and then I told him, 'Don't you dare call me tonight. We're celebrating our anniversary.' Oh, I am so glad we're home." She flopped on the couch and closed her eyes.
"What?" That last bit got his attention. Anniversary? Today?
"I said, 'I am so glad we're home.' So much for super-hearing." She kicked off her shoes and let them drop on the floor.
"Oh." He'd completely forgotten about it. Despite being invulnerable, if he didn't rectify the situation immediately, he would be a dead man. He swallowed nervously, "Um, Lois, there's a meeting tonight."
Her eyes snapped open. "Tonight? Which bonehead decided tonight? It's the middle of the week!"
He turned away quickly, struggling to remove his now-constricting tie. He tried to make it to the bedroom before she . . .
"You! You forgot, didn't you?!" He ducked when he heard it coming. The shoe sailed over his head and hit the wall in front of him. She had very good aim. And another shoe. He quickly strode into the bedroom as the other shoe came flying, hitting the exact point on the wall as its mate. Excellent aim.
He made his way to the other side of the bed, as if it could shield him from her wrath. What was wrong with his fingers anyway? Why won't this stupid tie come off? At the moment, it didn't occur to him that he could easily rip off the thin strip of silk. Calm down, Kent, now is not the time to panic. Then she was in the doorway. Okay, panic.
His hands dropped away from his tie. Reason with her. "Now, honey, you knew when we got married--"
"You missed Valentine's Day. Fine. It was an emergency. You missed my birthday. Fine. You were on the other side of the world. You missed our week off. Fine. You were in space. But today? Do you hear any explosions? Anything the police can't handle?" At his blank look, she went on. "I didn't think so." Suddenly, her entire demeanor changed from outraged to dismissive. This worried him even more. "I understand, dear. You'd better get going. Arriving late wouldn't look good." She turned her back to him and starting removing her blazer.
By now, Clark felt like dirt. She was right. She knew exactly what she was getting herself into, but it still wasn't fair. He'd been neglecting the most important person in his life. He came up behind her and embraced her. She relaxed into his broad chest, accepting his unspoken apology. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "The infamous Lois Lane temper strikes again." She felt the rumble of his chuckle against her back, lightly massaging her. "It's just . . . I miss you."
"Shh. Don't. It's my fault," he whispered. "My priorities got messed up. I ought to let the police do their job more. The infamous Clark Kent obliviousness kicked in." He rested his cheek on the top of her head.
"Hey," she squeezed the arms encircling her. "Nobody gets to talk about my hayseed like that. 'Cept for me." They stood together for a moment longer, enjoying the closeness that had become almost nonexistent in the previous weeks. Kissing her throat, Clark reluctantly loosened his arms.
"I'll get someone to step in for me. Be right back." Before he could completely disengage himself, Lois spun around to pull down the back of his head and capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Hurry," she whispered breathlessly. "I'll slip into something more . . . uncomfortable." She smiled mischievously and pinched his bottom. She went into the bathroom without a backward glance.
Clark let out a breath. Whoa. That woman. He hurried into a small hidden room which contained equipment for his other job. Whom to call? Ah, yes. He opened a link to Batman. Luckily, he'd caught him before he left the Cave.
"What?" came the terse greeting.
"Batman, I won't be able to make it tonight. Something's come up."
"Emergency?"
"Uh, yeah. In a manner of speaking."
In less than a second, the computer that was Batman's mind took note of the appearance of the Man of Steel on his screen. Tousled hair, tie askew, slightly embarrassed. Smeared lipstick. Oh. Hm, today's date. Ah. He frowned. "*You* called the meeting."
"Big mistake on my part." Both men silently added, 'A very big mistake.' "I need you to lead the meeting."
"Why me?"
Clark heard Lois emerge from the bathroom and using his x-ray vision, watched her head for the closet. He didn't have time for this. He turned back to the screen. "You owe me."
"Really." The expression on the partially hidden face didn't change, but the tone of the voice clearly indicated disbelief.
"Yes, really. Two words, Bruce: 'Superman sucks.' Ring a bell?" She said slip into something uncomfortable. What was that supposed to mean?
On the other side of the screen, Bruce remembered. The charity ball. He defended himself. "If anything, it made your cover even stronger. No one believed it."
"Do you know what I went through at the office? Co-workers kept asking me to get their cats out of trees and to use heat vision to warm up their coffee. One person even asked me to lift up his car so he could retrieve a pen that rolled under it." Clark had thought his heart would stop the first time someone had called him "Superman" the day right after the ball. Granted, it was all in fun, but it had become irritating after the first few hours.
"If you don't like being embarrassed, you shouldn't wear your underwear so prominently outside of your costume." Batman regretted the cheap shot immediately after he said it. He knew the battle was lost.
Clark's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Hey, my mother made the suit." Fortunately for Batman, Lois inadvertently rescued him. She called for Clark, knowing that he'd hear her through the wall. Looking up again, his eyes widened at what he saw. Oh, *that* something uncomfortable. She was posing provocatively now, aware that her husband would be watching. Even though she didn't have x-ray vision, she looked straight at the spot she knew he'd be and simply . . . smiled. That did it. All other thoughts left Clark's mind.
Batman noticed Clark's sudden inattention. "Kent, you are so whipped."
". . . only if I'm lucky," came the murmured reply. Clark snapped back to the present, and he stared at the screen. Shoot, the link was still open. "Yeah, um, uh, so thanks." He broke the connection. Please, oh, please, he silently prayed, let me be lucky. He went to join his wife.
Batman was slightly offended at having been hung up on, since he liked having the final word. Hmph. Next time. He transported to the JLA headquarters and strode in, on time as usual. He moved to the head of the conference table.
"Hey!" called out Plastic Man. "Where's Supes?"
"A domestic situation has arisen." The Flash smiled at that. Only he knew what that truly meant. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be over shortly." The corner of Batman's mouth twitched at that. No one noticed.
End
* Note regarding the charity ball: See "Spin Control" in the Batman section.