Powder Her Nose

In the small bathroom, Lois Lane stared into the mirror. Her makeup was okay, though it could use a touch up here-and-there. Hair wasn't too mussed from sex, nothing a minute's work with a comb wouldn't fix. She studied her own eyes and asked the question that was on her mind, instinctive self-interview.

"What the fuck are you doing, Lois?"

On a date in a restaurant with some inhuman dickgirl calling herself Angelica Blaze—after unprotected sex, both you and her apparently convinced she'd knocked you up. It was insanity.

Her hand went to her stomach, as though she could feel something there. Too soon, though. Too soon for a pregnancy test, too late for a condom. A trickle of panic seemed to creep in under the edge of the reporter's numbness as she tried to consider what to do.

"This should be Superman's baby," she told her mirror-self.

That was the story that Lois Lane had always believed. It seemed inevitable, somehow. The will-they-won't-they dynamic of Superman and Lois Lane collapsing suddenly in a flurry of matrimony, the unresolved sexual tension released in a passionate honeymoon that left her with dislocated hips and a trashed bedroom. She had touched herself at night thinking about his cock, pictured herself on her knees worshiping his balls with her mouth. Lois Lane had wanted to be his wife, his partner, his secret slut, his personal whore. The personal cumdump of the Last Son of Krypton, though she seldom allowed her fantasies to run quite that far past the marital bed. But she knew that if they did get together, that's what she'd end up. **** to his cock. And he would be the perfect husband, and give her the perfect baby, and it would all just be...perfect.

This wasn't a perfect world. She closed the hand over her stomach into a tight fist. Maybe it never was. Maybe this was all just a fantasy. Whatever the case, she knew that could never be now. In another universe, another timeline...

"So what do I do?" Lois asked herself.

She could just walk away. Leave the restaurant, leave Blaze. Just go get a morning-after pill, call Superman, confess her feelings. Or she could go back to the table and...see how things pan out. Maybe there was a new future there, one that she had never dreamed of.

Lois Lane stared into the mirror, the lines of the old song coming to her lips as she concluded her little self-interview.

"Do I stay or do I go now?"