Epilogue: Lois Lane's Long Dark Night of the Soul

Morning followed on morning. Lois Lane could think back to her night with Blaze fondly, as she went about her daily life. Writing articles for the Daily Planet, working out in the mornings and evenings and counting calories to keep her figure taut and trim. Flirting with Superman whenever she got the chance, wondering if either of them would ever act on that unspoken sexual attraction.

Only as days turned into weeks, Lois noticed the pounds creeping up. There were times during the day when she felt slightly nauseous, stomach upset, which she put down to too much coffee. The workouts seemed to take more out of her, and she started craving more lemons and limes. Afternoon at her desk often found Lois munching on saltine crackers. Yet none of these really made an impact on Lois...

...until she realized she was a month late for her period.

The realization came to Lois Late one night as she lay in bed. She had felt lazy that evening and thrown a vegetarian pizza in the oven, intending to eat a slice and put the rest in the fridge...and had ended up, to her own surprise, scarfing the whole thing. Her hand was resting on her little food baby, rubbing the distended abdomen and thinking about how many miles she'd have to log on the treadmill to work that off when the pieces fell into place.

Oh no, Lois had frozen on the bed, in absolute denial...and then she was on her feet, squeezing into a pair of pants and heading out into the Metropolis night. There was a 24-hour pharmacy just three blocks away, and Lois let her legs stretch out to their full stride as she stalked towards it, careful not to break into a run, agitation building inside of her.

How could I be so stupid? How could I have let that happen? Why didn't I...take a morning after pill? Lois berated herself.

She was still agitated as she stalked the aisles, zeroing in on what she needed: a box of pregnancy tests. Almost as an afterthought, Lois grabbed a bag of tortilla chips and some sour creme...and, because she definitely felt the need for comfort food, a bar of chocolate. No pickles, though, and no ****. Lois felt guilty as she came up to the cash register. There was only one other person in the store, a guy in a hoodie, and he got in line behind her. The young, bored woman behind the counter didn't even glance up as she rang up the reporter's items...and probably would not have, even if Lois had been buying a pregnancy test and a set of coathangers and a booklet on HOW TO DO YOUR OWN ABORTION.

Lois paid cash, the register clinged open...and then the man with the hoodie was shoving the reporter out of the way, a small pistol in his hand thrust into the cashier's face. The reporter recognized stark terror in the woman's eyes as she quickly emptied the cash in the register into a plastic bag, handed it to him...and then he turned. Lois caught only a glimpse of brown eyes above the facemask...but she was aware of how his pistol was pointed, for just a moment, at her stomach.

The reporter's heart stopped for a moment. Icy fear like nothing she had ever experienced froze her in place. Then the man was gone, a couple hundred dollars in cash and out the door...and Lois Lane and the cashier were left. Mechanically, the cashier bagged up Lois Lane's purchases; when the shock wore off, they called the cops and waited for them to arrive. Lois could feel the weight of the pregnancy test in the bag, far more than what their few ounces should account for. She was sweating as the Metropolis PD took her statement and description, hoping they wouldn't ask what was in the bag, why she was here...which, of course, they didn't.

Lois knew better; she'd been around a lot of crime scenes. Witnesses often gave the police too much information, and Lois kept the speculation to a minimum, gave the most accurate description she could...and then she gave a little hug to the cashier, whose name was Millie, and was out back again into the night.

The shadows were darker now, and Lois walked more slowly. Her left hand held the bag, and her right hand kept coming up to touch her stomach. Every screech of a braking car on the street next to her made her start, and she waited and looked both ways before crossing at each light, even though she tended to be one of those people that didn't need to wait for a light to tell her it was safe to cross.

The three blocks back to her apartment were nerve-wracking, and Lois knew why. Not because she might easily have lost her life in that stupid, simple holdup...but because she might have lost the baby.

If there was a baby.

There was only one way to find out.

The second she got in the door, Lois kicked off her shoes and pulled down panties and pants. Not even bothering to take off her jacket or shirt, she dumped the bag on the table, ripped open the box of pregnancy tests, and carried it into the bathroom. She could already feel the pressure of her bladder, and took the **** need to pee as a sign that she needed to get this over with. Whatever the result, Lois needed to know.

Which is how, a few minutes later, Lois Lane lay the wet stick on the edge of the sink with shaking hands...and waited, as millions of women have waited, to see whether or not she was pregnant.