End: Lois Has Faith In Herself

The reporter's hands closed on the gem. The glow brightened, a burning pink that Lois could see even with her eyes closed. Somewhere behind her, an animal scream ripped forth from a throat no longer even vaguely human.

Vast heat burned through Lois Lane's fingers, tearing their way to her heart. There was power there...so much power...and it whispered to her, cajoled her, in wordless promises. She could feel it tugging at her mind. Images of bigger breasts, plumper lips, smoother skin, and those gorgeous golden locks...

Lois shook. Flashes showed every flaw in herself. Every burgeoning wrinkle and zit, every little scar, how small her breasts and ass were, the way her nipples weren't exactly level, how her inner labia hung out a little...

Then it got nasty.

The reporter was confronted with scenes of her lonely nights alone against a buxom blonde party girl, living it up. Laying in bed alone, versus getting pounded full of cock. Counting change to buy a cup of coffee, versus a man slipping a hundred dollar bill into her panties.

As the flame seemed to burn inside her chest, pulsing in time with her heart, Lois could see herself in Superman's arms, beautiful and blonde, her long pink nails plucking at those red shorts, licking her plump pink lips as she freed the fat cock within.

No.

The image broke, unraveled. Lois saw herself as she was. Receiving a Pulitzer for her reporting. Catching Clark Kent's gaze when she wore a tight skirt, the obvious bulge in his pants keeping her warm throughout the day. Pressing her head against Superman's chest as he flew her to safety. Visions of past lovers adoring her body, of hard work rewarded.

I'm happy and sexy just the way I am.

Lois Lane opened her eyes as the fire went out of the gem. There was nothing Blaze's heart could give her that she wanted. Oh, she still had her insecurities. Every woman did. But she accepted them. They were a part of her, and she was beautiful.

"Well done," the Spectre's green gloved hand grasped the gem and gently pulled it from the reporter's hand. He looked somewhat more human now, less horrible. That chalk-white face and body less imposing.

"You have faced temptation admirably, and come out stronger for it. Though it has left its mark on you, and I do not think you will soon forget this night."

With a slight *pop* of green smoke, the enigmatic figure vanished, and Lois was lost as to his meaning...until she stared into the array of cracked mirrors and saw, among the raven black darkness of her hair, a single golden lock...

What happened afterwards, Lois pieced together from her interviews. The reporter had avoided calling the police; if there was any victim in this case of prostitution, it was the men and women who "worked" the underground rooms. Without Blaze or the heart, all of those transformed were stuck in their new forms—though most didn't seem to mind—but were no longer under the demon's compulsion.

Instead, Lois had called the Justice League, and before long Zatanna, Doctor Fate, and Superman arrived to give what aid they could. A few of Blaze's accomplices escaped, and the reporter grimly knew she'd be seeing them again, one way or another.

At the end of the night, Superman smiled and walked over to her.

"By the way—I noticed you've done something different with your hair," he smiled, jovial as could be under the circumstances, apparently happy just to talk with her.

"You like it?" Lois asked, twirling the blonde lock around one finger. "I'm not sure I'm going to keep it."

The Man of Steel shrugged. "I think you're beautiful either way."

The Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter smiled. It had been just the right thing to say.