Wrestle Me This

by LaraMoon <laramoon@mac.com>

Rated: G

Submitted: October 2006

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Author's Note:

Don't ask me where this came from, because I really have NO idea. It just sort of happened. I wasn't even trying to write this, I was trying to finish "All Weathered Out"... I had Notepad opened on the computer and the words just started pouring out onto the blank page, in between two bites of my bagel w/cream cheese. :)

It took literally 30 minutes to get from the first sentence to the last spell check, so don't expect something of mind-blowing quality, here! It's just a silly little thing which I blame on lack of sleep.

A good title for this would have been "please excuse the interruption", actually. LOL! I'm going back to "All Weathered Out" now. There will be no further interruptions. ;)

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That's just drinkin' thinkin', liquor logic in a can Your brain cells party and your body believes you're Superman Thats just drinkin' thinkin' And here's where the trouble starts The more you drink, the better you think you are

- Drinkin' Thinkin' by George Canyon

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Wrestle Me This

There was a reason why Clark never usually joined his colleagues on what they were known to call "Beer Night." The guys would get drunk, the girls too actually and they would almost always end up making fools of themselves. Good thing they couldn't remember it very well the next day, he thought.

He'd gone with them a couple times, when he'd first started working at the Daily Planet, thinking it was a good idea to socialize with his coworkers. He was new in town, after all and this looked like a pleasant way to make friends. But when he realized that their main goal wasn't "socializing" but rather drinking themselves pretty much right under the table, he'd stopped going.

He knew he should have turned them down again tonight, but Lois had nagged him until he'd changed his mind. Oh, she didn't normally take part in these things either, thank God, but every once in a while - if there was something to celebrate - she'd let herself be tempted by the prospect of a few drinks among friends.

He and Lois had cracked a case today that they'd been working on for almost two weeks straight. The front page of the evening edition of the Planet, as well as most of the following six pages, were devoted to their story. There was definitely reason to celebrate, Clark knew, but he would have preferred something a little less... rowdy... than Beer Night, by far. However, Lois wanted to go and for some reason she absolutely wanted him there and wasn't prepared to take no for an answer.

So he'd finally caved and accepted to join them. At the very least, he figured if Lois got too tipsy, he could make sure she got home safely and without making an absolute fool of herself, which she unfortunately often did when she'd been drinking... Alcohol had no effect on him, so he could easily play the 'knight in shining armor' part. Truth be told, it suited him just fine. Who was he to turn down Lois Lane, anyway?

Sometime around 1 AM, Clark was yet again reminded of why he never went out with his coworkers on Beer Night... Lois was about a drink away from being plastered and he'd spent the last half hour trying to convince her that she had had enough and that she should let him take her home. But she wouldn't hear of it. They weren't done celebrating, she'd said. Most of the others had gone home already, the bar was just about empty by now, but Lois kept insisting on having yet another drink.

That's when she'd somehow got it in her head that she was stronger than him...

"Arm wrestling, Lois?" Clark asked, stunned. "Are you out of your mind?"

"No, seriously! I'll bet the next round that I can beat you, hands down," she said, defiantly. "Pardon the bad pun..." she then added, giggling.

"Lois, I'm not going to arm wrestle you. Or anyone else for that matter!"

"What? Are you afraid I'm going to hurt your pretty little arm or something?" She had a teasing grin on her face, but he could tell she was really serious about this. "Come on, Kent! Be a man!"

She'd grabbed his hand from the table and was trying to get him to place his arm in the proper position so she could prove to him that she was the stronger of the two.

"Lo-is... Quit trying to do that," he pleaded with her. "You're going to hurt yourself. Trust me; you have no idea what you're getting into!"

"Oh, puh-leeze! Hurt myself? Who do you think you are? Superman?"

Clark looked around nervously. There was no one anywhere near enough to hear their conversation. Ok then, he told himself, he might as well take the plunge now. He'd always been intent on telling her and now she'd basically asked him point blank for a confession... He looked around again, and satisfied that no one would hear him say it, he took a deep breath and let it out.

"Actually, Lois... I *am* Superman."

She snorted loudly.

"Right, sure! And I'm Queen Victoria or something!"

"Seriously, Lois. I'm Superman."

"Don't be silly, Clark! Of course you're not Superman. Superman is Superman. You're Clark Kent."

Ah yes, he thought, it made so much sense when she put it that way. He couldn't help but grin. She was past the legal limit all right.

"Besides," Lois continued after a second, batting her eyelashes at him, "you really don't have to try that hard to impress me."

"I don't?" he asked, surprised.

"No. You impress me pretty much everyday of the week, Clark. I'm surprised you hadn't noticed. In fact, you know... sometimes you impress me a hell of a lot more than Superman does."

What? What was she saying?

"I do?" he asked, completely taken aback.

"Well, yeah! I mean... so he flies and all, but look at all you do for the good of the world and you don't even have super powers!"

He smiled at her. Yep. She was definitely, absolutely drunk.

"Come on, Lois," he said, "I'm taking you home. You've had more than enough to drink."

"Party pooper!" she told him with a grimace as she got up from her chair.

Oh well, he thought, at least she appeared to want to cooperate. He picked up her jacket from the back of the chair and led her towards the exit.

"Clark?" Lois asked once they set foot outside the bar, "Do people really think I've got it that bad for Superman?"

"I don't know... Why do you ask?"

"Well, take you for example... Why did you think the only way you could impress me was to pretend that you're Superman?"

Clark shook his head. "What makes you so sure that I'm not Superman, Lois?"

"Women's intuition. Trust me, Clark; I would know if you were."

He raised an eyebrow. Women's intuition? He'd heard people debating whether or not this was a myth... He guessed his answer was right there. Lois definitely had intuition when it came to her work, but beyond that she had absolutely *no* clue.

"Ok, but what if I was? Hypothetically, of course..."

"Hypothetically..." she echoed, looking towards the sky as if the answer to his question could be found there. After a second, she turned to look at him, a dreamy smile on her face. "Clark, if you were Superman..." She started giggling.

"Yes? If I were Superman...."

"If you were Superman.... Well first, I'd ask you to fly me home," she grinned widely. "Then," she blushed, "then... I'd kiss you. And..."

"And?" he pressed. For the very first time, Clark was actually happy he hadn't missed Beer Night...

"Well, you realize of course that once you got me home, I'd never let you leave again. You'd be stuck with me for the rest of your life natural life... *If* you were Superman, of course."

Clark looked around. No one in sight...

"All right... Then ask me to fly you home," he said, with a sly smile.

Lois giggled. "You're crazy!" she said.

"Ah, come on, Lois... Just ask me," he dared her.

She giggled some more. "Would you fly me home," she said, "Please?"

"With pleasure," he said. Taking a step back, he spun into the Suit. Half a second later, he had picked her up and they were hovering a few feet above the street.

"Clark?" Lois let out, startled. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what was going on. "But... how?"

"I told you before, Lois... I really *am* Superman," he told her, flashing that devastating smile of his. "You do realize what this means, though, don't you?"

"What does it... oh... oh, that. Yeah... about that... uh..." she stammered.

"Don't worry, I won't hold you to it," he promised. "Although I have to warn you, I may decide to collect on that kiss you mentioned before, when we land."

She blushed madly. "I hope so," she whispered softly. She laid her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh.

It was a real pity, Clark thought, that Lois was so inebriated she would not remember any of this in the morning. Oh well, he'd just have to get her to try and arm wrestle him again sometime, when she was sober.

~ The End ~

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