Lois pushed the handle down so that the red 'in use' tab displayed in the slot of the door to the tiny airplane bathroom. Her pulse was racing. She'd never had any problems with flying before. Never once. Not in airplanes big or small, nor in helicopters, nor Superman's own arms.
She didn't feel sick, though. She felt… euphoric. Something deep down in her gut was reveling in the flight. Being airborne, albeit suspended within a hulking mass of metal and propulsion engines, had never felt so right.
It was making her nervous. The nerves made her antsy, but there was no room to pace, not in the bathroom let alone the plane.
"Deposit sanitary products here!" the cheerful blue and black sign above the trashcan read, trying to keep women from stuffing their 'sanitary products' down the plane's toilet. Lois smirked at the thought, but then she kept thinking.
When was the last time she'd used her own sanitary products? She'd been carting a box of tampons around for long enough, after all. She and Richard had been in and out of planes and hotels for almost three months with minimal stopover in Metropolis, writing articles about the missing Superman, not finding Clark at any terminal they visited, and picking up random International articles while they were out.
Admittedly, Clark was farther and farther from her mind the more time she spent with Richard. And she had been spending a lot of time with Richard. The sort of time she'd never spent with Clark. Time in bed…
Then Lois began to feel sick.
When they landed, Lois ditched her flight-buddy with a mumble about grabbing something from the gift shop while he saw about the rental—they were spending the night in Chicago before finally returning to Metropolis for good. He raised an eyebrow at her but didn't mention that they'd been to Chicago three times before and she hadn't stopped at any gift shops…
In the bathroom, Lois leaned against the handicapped cubicle's wall, holding the little white stick as though it had been contaminated with E. bola instead of her own urine. Not that the idea of holding something she'd peed on—peed on on purpose at that—made anything any better.
And then there it was. A little plus sign, clear as anything. There was no mistaking it. It didn't even slightly resemble the division sign Lucy had talked about pregnancy tests sometimes displaying in their evil ambiguity. Nor was it the mysterious dot Cat Grant had reportedly gotten on three separate occasions from three different home test brands.
Lois found herself wondering if it was safe to fly when she was pregnant. She'd never thought about it before, never had to. Never in her life, in the long history of sexual escapades that weren't nearly so lascivious as her coworkers tended to imagine based on her drinking abilities, had she ever had a 'pregnancy scare.'
I need Clark. She found herself thinking, her best friend's face swimming into her mind's eye for the first time in almost a month. I want Clark. I need Clark. He would know what to do. He's a freaking encyclopedia of random information like this…!
Taking deep breaths, she forced herself to snap out of it and wrap the little stick of evil and pee in toilet paper before burying it in her purse. She met Richard near the rental office, shrugged off not finding any good souvenirs, and pretended to nap on the endless ride to the hotel.
Two days later, when they finally separated into their own taxis to go to their own apartments in Metropolis, Lois let herself hyperventilate. She Googled, she debated calling her doctor, and she staved off a full-blown panic attack by taking a long, hot shower.
Now that she knew she was pregnant, she could see it in her body. She wondered if Richard had noticed and had just been waiting for her to say something. It was just the smallest of bumps, but it was definitely a bump. A baby bump. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.
I'm not cut out to be a mother! Never in my wildest, most psychotic dreams! Lucy was always the maternal one! … Lucy!
Lois practically ran out of the bathroom to her closet. Her socks didn't match and she was in a musty old sweat suit, but she was decent enough for a late-night visit to her little sister. The cab ride across the island to suburbia didn't do anything to calm her nerves.
"Hi, Lois, when did you get back in town?" Lucy asked as she closed the door behind her sister, trying not to look so surprised as he was to find the other woman on the stoop at quarter to midnight when the rest of the family was asleep. When Lois' deer-in-the-headlights expression was illuminated by the foyer overhead, Lucy changed tacts. "What's wrong?"
"I'm pregnant."