Chapter 3: Writing's On The Wall.

Latino guitar music was playing over the sound system, and was the sort of thing artists like Gustavo Santaolalla or Rodrigo y Gabriela might play during one of their more ambient moments on stage. It wasn't loud and intrusive but could still be heard clearly enough during conversation and it made for pleasant background noise. Externally, the restaurant itself looked like a typical modern establishment located near a plethora of other bars and restaurants - all steel and glass - whereas inside it had a cosy terracotta feel. The smell from the open grill by the kitchens permeated the venue with a delicate aroma of wood smoke and chipotle.

Lois had read about El Gordo in the lifestyle section of the Daily Planet the previous weekend, where the reviewer had raved about the quality of the food and the general ambience. Lois had previously tried another restaurant and a couple of bars the same reviewer had spoken highly of and she found herself to be in total agreement. If the reviewer liked a place, Lois now believed it was worth checking out. So here she was now having lunch with Clark.

They were due to meet with a source straight after lunch and Lois had decided it was worth a long lunch rather than grabbing a quick bite to eat like they usually did. Better than dashing to the office only to dash off again within half an hour. Also, she really wanted to try out El Gordo after reading about it.

"This seems like a nice place Lois," said Clark, looking around while picking at the plate of tortilla chips and guacamole in front of them.

"Yeah, I'm really glad it's not a themed restaurant. There's nothing more clichéd than seeing some lame Mariachi band in the corner, with the waiters all wearing sombreros and giant moustaches."

They'd been eyeing the menu and saw a waiter come over, who asked them if they were ready to order. Both had looked at the lunchtime special which was a sharing platter consisting of an assortment of tacos, tamales, salads, a house speciality of grilled fish with 3 different types of salsa, and an array of other authentic Mexican fare. They decided to go with that. The waiter recommended a non-alcoholic cocktail as the ideal accompaniment - a mixture of lime juice, mint, agave syrup and club soda. They agreed to try that too as it sounded refreshing.

The waiter brought over their drinks, followed shortly by the food. They tucked in and Lois liked the food so much, she finished more than half the platter and still wanted dessert. She eyed the hot chocolate and churros on the menu greedily, and once the waiter came back, she ordered it for them both.

The hot chocolate was a revelation, and worth coming to the restaurant for to sample on its own. The balance of bitter and sweet was perfection, and the light cinnamon note and velvety texture made it a cup of pure bliss.

"Mmm, now this is better than sex," Lois purred as she sipped her hot chocolate, loud enough to catch the attention of the two men sat at the table next to theirs. They turned to look at her in appreciation, causing her to look away in embarrassment and Clark to snort and shake his head. He agreed that it was excellent however.

As she'd finished, Lois said she was going to the ladies room, leaving Clark to pick up the tab. In the ladies room, Lois realised she may have overdone it a little. She was feeling so full. The side walls of the stall were plain but the inside of the door had a slightly angry-looking Mariachi band painted on. Why would they put that on the doors? As she finished, she spotted a bit of graffiti on one of the side walls. It read:

"If you're looking for a fun time, call Rich on [number supplied]."

That gave her an idea. She took out a pen from her bag and crossed out the name and number of Rich, replacing them with the letter C and Clark's cellphone number. Smiling to herself, she exited the stall and freshened up at the sink before heading back out to a waiting Clark.

They'd just taken a few shorts steps outside the restaurant when Lois had another idea. She stopped walking and put her hand to her stomach, causing Clark to stop walking, turn around and look back. "Smallville, wait right here, I think I need to go again," she said, heading back into the restaurant and nodding to the waiter before walking back into the ladies room.

She went into a different stall to previously, took out her pen again and scrawled on the wall:

"Satisfaction garanteed [sic], Call C on…" and leaving Clark's number again. After a few minutes waiting, she headed back out.

They'd walked for two blocks and needed to walk a couple more to get to where they were meeting their source - a greasy burger joint. Lois felt the need for the bathroom again, leaving Clark outside on the street as she dashed into the nearest bar - a place called Ike's. Once inside, she asked one of the bar staff where the ladies room was, looking like she was desperate. The young man pointed her in the right direction and she made a beeline for it. Stepping in, the stalls were all occupied but it was only a moment before one of them became vacant. Lois walked in and closed the door.

She took out her pen and scrawled on the wall:

"If you have an itch, I can scratch it for you. Call The Farmboy on…" Clark's number was added. She walked back out and saw Clark still waiting patiently.

"Lois, are you alright?" he asked, looking a little concerned.

"I'm fine Smallville, but I think some of that Mexican food disagreed with me."

"Well I wouldn't know, since you ate most of mine too. Whoever decided that was for sharing clearly never met Lois Lane," he snarked.

Lois narrowed her eyes and walked on. They were soon outside the burger joint where their source worked. Clark opened the front door and Lois stepped inside.

The meeting with their source was a formality and it wasn't really anything that Clark couldn't handle by himself. The questions and answers were pretty obvious and the source was merely there to provide confirmation of a small and relatively trivial aspect of their story's bigger picture. Since it was a little tedious, Lois decided to play up her stomach issues and asked for the toilets. Clark watched her leave and went back to talking to the source.

The ladies room was pretty grim, and Lois was sure the system was backed up somewhere because there was an unpleasant smell in the air. Holding a napkin to cover her nose and mouth so she could breathe, she scrawled another message hastily on the wall, surprised that it wasn't covered in graffiti already.

"Wash away those blues, Call the Love Machine on…" She was having too much fun with this. Clark had embarrassed her immensely when he'd scared her on movie night and this was the perfect payback. She didn't know how many women would call him after seeing these messages, but she expected at least a couple. In her Met U days, she'd called a couple of the numbers scrawled on the walls around the campus and in bars, just for a laugh, so she knew somebody would bite. It was just a waiting game.

The bullpen was quiet as everybody else had gone home. It was almost 10:00 in the evening and Lois and Clark were working late as they continued researching for their story. Lois' stomach had apparently settled down after her last visit to the ladies room back at the Planet an hour ago. Unbeknownst to him, she'd left a message on the wall in there too. You never know.

Clark was busy typing away at his computer as Lois came back to the bullpen, heading to the coffee station for a refill. Clark's cellphone rang. After seeing it was an unknown number, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi," was the drawled reply. It was a female voice. "Is that the Love Machine?"

"Excuse me, who is this?"

"I'm told you can help me wash away those blues," continued the woman.

Clark looked confused. "I'm sorry but I think you've got the wrong number." With that, he hung up.

Lois made her way back to her desk, gesturing to ask who it was.

"Oh, wrong number," replied Clark, placing his phone on the desk and getting back to his typing. Things were quiet again for a while until his phone rang again, and again it was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Well hello to you too Mr Love Machine!" came the excited female voice on the line. She sounded drunk.

"Mr Love Ma-," he spluttered before adding, "You have the wrong person Ma'am."

He couldn't see Lois silently laughing away behind her computer screen. They continued to work until 11:30 before deciding it was time to head home. Clark had super-sped instead of bringing his truck so he waited until the coast was clear before speeding out of the bullpen.

Clark had been fast asleep when he heard his phone ringing. He didn't know how long it had been going but he glanced over at his clock, which read 3:22. Taking a deep breath, he got up and reached for the phone. Lois and Chloe were very unlikely to ring at such a late hour. Even Oliver chose not to disturb him at such a time, especially if there wasn't a Justice League matter to handle. Clark answered the phone without looking at the caller.

"Hello?" he said in a sleepy voice.

"Hey there Farmboy!" came the reply, a female voice. In his sleepy haze, he hadn't really registered the name in his conscious mind. It was tucked away at the very back somewhere.

"Hello, who is this?"

"My name's not important. What is important is what you can do for me. See, I have an itch that only you can scratch." It was a breathy whisper.

"Huh? What? What do you mean?"

The voice was still breathy. "Well, right now I'm picturing your hand grazing my knee, sliding up my inner thigh, until your thumb rubs against my-"

Clark's eyes went wide and he sat up, ending the call and holding the phone like it was a live grenade. He didn't have any idea what was going on other than suddenly receiving a number of funny phone calls. He ruffled his hair in confusion as his slumbering brain simultaneously felt the need for rest as well as to make sense of what had just happened.

Another day of working late, only this time punctuated by several phone calls asking for the Love Machine. Clark was now very irritable and had even managed to knock his coffee over in his annoyance, spilling the contents all over the paperwork on his desk. As he was cleaning up his mess, his phone rang again. He didn't bother to check the caller, instead angrily answering, "What!"

"Whoa there tiger! What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Nothing," he answered wearily before apologising and adding, "Well, I keep getting those phone calls. Somehow my number's been given out to every needy woman in Metropolis."

"Maybe you should start a male escort service, Smallville!" Lois teased.

"Lois!"

"Alright alright," she laughed. "I'm just calling to ask you to meet me outside the Ace of Clubs. Our other lead might pan out a little sooner than we thought."

"Lois, I'm swamped with stuff here. Can't you handle it on your own?" Clark suggested, irritation building up again.

"Nuh uh. Listen Farmboy, we are a team but I call the shots. Meet me outside the Ace of Clubs in 15 minutes," she ordered. With that she ended the call.

Clark looked at his phone and sighed. Looking over to the files piled on the end of his desk caused his head to drop. It had been a stressful day. Wait, she called me Farmboy. Haven't I heard that recently?

His thoughts were broken by yet another phone call. Metropolis' women really must be desperate. "Hello?"

"Um…are you The Farmboy?" said a giggling woman, and several others were giggling in the background.

"No I'm not. I've been getting these calls all day and I want to know how you got my number," said Clark, trying to keep his annoyance at bay.

"Oh, it was at this place on 7th. Do you know Ike's?" she said.

Clark's mind whirred into action as he recalled standing outside there a few days earlier. Lois had gone in needing the bathroom. He hung up the call abruptly. Before he'd taken even one step to head out of the bullpen, his phone rang again. He wasn't surprised to see that the number was unknown. He answered it anyway.

"Hey there big boy, I think you got somethin' for me." It was a man! Clark blinked twice. "Question is: can you handle me?" It was an effeminate sounding man!

"Who are you?" Clark asked, fed up.

"Somebody who wants to know you intimately," said the male voice, clearly familiar with how these things worked.

"Where did you get my number?"

"Oh honey, your number is burned in my mind! But if you must know, I got it off a friend called El Gordo."

Clark was stunned. He cut the caller off and switched off his phone. Now his mind was putting all the pieces together. El Gordo. Ike's. Farmboy. Love Machine. Lois left my number in all those ladies rooms she visited that day!

He was fuming. Checking no-one was watching, he sped away towards the Ace of Clubs. Spotting her outside, he walked briskly towards her, calling out, "You!" She started laughing as she realised he'd finally cottoned on.

"You left my number in all those ladies rooms! Do you have any idea what you did? I'm getting called constantly by women looking for a good time!" Seeing her doubling over while laughing harder, he whined, "Not funny Lois!" He had no intention of mentioning that his last caller was probably a drag queen.

Between laughs, she replied, "I'm sorry Smallville, but it totally is. You should have seen your face!" Then she stopped laughing and became semi-serious. "That's what you get for scaring me on movie night."

Clark looked down resigned before flaring up suddenly. "Now I have to change my number Lois!"

She merely shrugged her shoulders before heading into the Ace of Clubs. Clark sighed and followed. He had to do something.