Okay, so I'm early, but here's the thing: I don't want to get scooped. It's Lyra's birthday and I think by now that it's patently obvious how much I adore this woman. Am I right on that? I think I must be right on that. So, first off:
And secondly, for her birthday I dipped my toe into her Churchill 'verse (which, if you haven't read, you should, go do it now, here's a link to the first story). Since I know that Lyra loves Lois, I wrote her a story about Lois, Thierry and Adelaide. And, you know, because it's Valentines day, I made it a bit romantical. Kind of. *shrugs* A little, maybe.
And then, because I'm bad at surprises, I showed her the story. And do you know what she did? She made a manip of Lois and Thierry! Check it out!
So, with not much further ado, I give you, Lyra darlin', your story:
When Lois met Thierry she was covered in what could charitably be referred to as ‘gunk’ that had gotten all over her when Superman threw a huge green insect-like alien…thing into a trash compacter. The gunk had erupted from the trash compacter like a fountain, and she’d been drenched. Naturally, Clark hadn’t been there, and was therefore pristine until she threw her shoe at him.
Thierry’s news crew had taped her trying to salvage her jacket as Thierry narrated Superman’s heroic exploits in French. “Il a sauvè le monde. Encore.”
Lois glared, and when the cameras stopped rolling, she’d told him to fuck off and die, in French. He’d winked and said green was a very good color for her, in English.
It set the tone for their whole relationship.
The dog was something she hadn’t seen coming. Then again, if she had, she wouldn’t have thought it was a dog. Maybe a rat on steroids with hair growth problems, but certainly nothing related to the canine family. And the dog was, apparently, non negotiable.
“J’adore Adelaide!” Thierry told her, waving his arms wildly. “She’s very sweet – and a persecuted Christian, at that. I’ve saved a missionary, Lois. I had thought you were a champion of the under dog.”
“A missionary of *what*? Heart worms and fleas?” she’d shot back. “I don’t think dogs are religious, anyway.”
Thierry’s eyes widened. “Cher, does she really have fleas?”
“My lease has a strict no pets clause,” she argued frantically. “I can’t have that thing here or I’ll get evicted.”
“Oh, and does it not also have a non-smoking clause?” Thierry drawled, sardonically gesturing at her ash tray with his cigarette. “I believe it does.”
“She eats my *shoes*, Thierry! My *shoes*,” Lois complained in a last ditch effort.
“Ah.” Thierry nodded sagely. “This is because you two have unresolved dominance issues. Perhaps with counseling –”
Lois narrowed her eyes. “If you say ‘bitch’ even once, I’ll have Superman smash your cameras.”
Thierry gave her a look of aggrieved innocence, sighed, slumped, and muttered something in French.
“This is my apartment,” Lois said, threateningly. “This is my city. I know people. I could have you stolen on the street and sold to a cosmetics company for experimentation. You take one more step toward my Manolo Blahnicks and you’re going to be wearing azure blue eye shadow for the rest of your life.”
The dog just cocked an ear at her and let its tongue hang out.
“I mean it. Don’t think I won’t do it!”
Adelaide reached out a delicate paw, and scratched the bright red leather slowly, deliberately. Lois threw her pillow at the dog, and she squealed hideously as though she were being dismembered.
“Come! Come!” Thierry said, running into the room. “What has happened, ma petite?”
“It was an accident –” she began, but when Thierry scooped Adelaide up in his arms, Lois realized that she was no longer his ‘petite’. He crooned to the dog, and over his shoulder, it gave Lois a look of triumph.
Lois stiffened; the dog might have won the battle, but Lois would win the war.
Two months later, the dog was still Thierry’s petite and Lois had taken to putting her shoes on a shelf well off the ground. Mornings began with Adelaide hopping onto the bed and barking loudly in Lois’ ear, and licking Thierry on the face. Thierry said that it meant Adelaide was beginning to feel well and truly comfortable, that it was a good sign she’d soon over come her trauma at the hands of her oppressors.
What Lois said in response wasn’t printable. Adelaide barked in her ear again, and Lois fell out of bed. Thierry was a very smart man, so he didn’t laugh, not even when Adelaide knocked the glass of water on Lois’ bed side table over, onto Lois’ head as she struggled to sit up.
“Pet exorcisms?” Clark read over her shoulder. “They do those?”
“Apparently so, or else there would be a web site about it, would there?” Lois replied brusquely, hoping to discourage further questioning.
After working with her for three years, however, Clark was impervious to brusque, and he sat down beside her, eyes scanning across the screen. “What’s this for?”
“A thing that I’m doing for a guy who used to work with Chloe back when she worked at the place, you remember? The guy? He’s kind of tall and kind of not?” she extemporized quickly.
Clark leveled a flat stare at her. “Adelaide, huh?”
Lois blew out a gusty sigh. “You know, most people take me at my word.”
“No, most people are just too intimidated to question you,” Clark corrected. “You think Adelaide’s possessed?”
“She knocked me out of my own bed and then spilled water all over me this morning,” Lois told him. “So I’m pretty sure she’s evil.”
“This is really about the shoes, isn’t it?” he asked, grinning. “We’re friends, you can tell me.”
“Oh, and your objections to Churchill aren’t at last ten percent about what he does to your glasses?” she shot back, turning back to the screen.
Thierry was in China again, covering some kind of monster attack and the apartment seemed huge. Lois flopped on the couch and changed channels listlessly. She toyed with the phone, mentally willing Thierry to call.
Adelaide sat by the door, and Lois got the feeling that Adelaide was willing Thierry to walk through it.
“He’s not coming back for another week, you know,” Lois told the Adelaide.
The dog looked at Lois over her shoulder, and whimpered. Lois sighed, and said, “Yeah, me too.”
With an unhappy snuffle Adelaide stood, and walked over to the couch. She made as if to jump up, but Lois glared. “Oh no, no *way*. You and I are not cuddling; I don’t care how much we both miss him, got that?”
Adelaide growled, and Lois growled back.
Lois came home from work tired, and covered in gunk. Again. This time it was from an evil plant that some crazy lady in Gotham had shipped into Metropolis, and again, Lois’ suit was past salvageable. There were even seed pods in her hair. When she’d gotten in the elevator Mrs. Patterson who lived three doors down had stared disapprovingly, and muttered something about personal hygiene.
It had been a near thing, but Lois hadn’t thrown anything and she was very proud of that fact.
She unlocked the door and dropped her briefcase by the coat rack as she stepped inside. When she turned around, she noticed that there were candles littered throughout the apartment and all the lights were off. There was music playing, too.
Lois panicked. She’d missed an important date, she knew it. It wasn’t Thierry’s birthday, that was in March, and it wasn’t their anniversary either because that was in two weeks. She was so absorbed in trying to figure out what the special occasion could possibly be, that when Thierry called her name, it startled her.
“Hi,” she said, blinking at him tiredly. “I was just…”
“You’ve had a rough day,” Thierry guessed, handing her a glass of wine and picking a leaf from her hair. “It was the thing in the museum, no?”
“Yeah,” Lois said, sipping slowly. “I…Thierry…what is today? I’m sorry, I just…” she gestured around herself. “I don’t know what the occasion is.”
Thierry smiled, and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Has anyone ever told you that green is a very good color for you, ma cher?”
Lois’ eyes widened. “Fuck off and die,” she responded immediately. “But our anniversary is in two weeks!”
“Yes, the anniversary of our first date,” Thierry agreed, “but we met three years ago today. And besides, I thought this would cheer you up a bit.”
“Oh, consider me cheered up,” she murmured, letting herself be lead toward the bedroom.
“Adelaide is with Clark and Lex tonight. I thought perhaps it would be best for us to be alone, and besides,” Thierry said, grin returning as he opened the door to the bedroom. “She wouldn’t stop attacking your presents.”
Lois blinked, and blinked again, because on top of her bed, there was a mountain of shoes.