Epilogue: Discrimination

"Retro vade, Sathanas!" The priest shook the aspergillum at her, and Lois Lane had to raise her arm to keep the holy water from her face. The old man was shaking with fanatical fury, and Lois hissed as a stray droplet hit the back of her hand, which began to bubble immediately.

The reporter grimaced through the bright spark of pain and kept moving, pushing past the grey-haired figure and into the Daily Planet building. Louie and Gus, two of the guards, were already moving forward to intercept the old man as he tried to follow her inside. She smiled a quick thank you but didn't slow down, moving straight toward the elevator.

"Third time this week," the reporter said as she shook her head. She turned her hand to examine how bad the burn was...and caught sight of the glint of gold from her wedding band. That brought a smile to her face. At least Angie didn't have to deal with this crap on a daily basis.

Lois made it all the way to her cubicle, nodding and smiling to her coworkers...and then she stopped and sighed, shoulders sagging a little. A familiar ginger-haired figure darted out of the break room.

"Jimmy!" she asked, and the bowtied photographer paused and walked over toward her. Lois gestured at her chair.

"Could you..."

There was a crucifix on the chair. The pale Christ impaled on it seemed to glower at the demonic reporter.

"Oh! Sure thing, Mrs. Lane," he said, reaching forward, picking up the offending religious object, and placing it in her trashcan. "I really don't know why people do that kind of thing."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Lois said, giving him a smile and settling into her chair.

He paused, not leaving her cubicle immediately. Lois looked at him quizzically...and the pure white eyes must have unnerved him, because he blurted out what must have been on his mind.

"Mrs. Lane...can I touch your horns?"

Lois closed her eyes and counted to ten before answering.

"Jimmy, would you ask a black person if you could touch their hair?"

He had the good sense to look mortified. "Aw, shucks, Mrs. Lane. I wasn't thinking about it like that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be racist."

"It's okay Jimmy. But trust me, they're just horns. Nothing special."

He smiled, apologized again, and headed out.

For the first time in her life, Lois Lane had a real appreciation for what people of color must go through every day. At least a little. Perry White had ceased forwarding her mail and commentaries; too many of the fine people of Metropolis had started addressing her as "Satan's slut" and "Beleezebitch."

Someone knocked. Lois spun around...and relaxed a little when she saw it was Clark Kent there. The smile got bigger when she saw he had two cups of coffee in his hands. He handed one to hers silently, and she mouthed a thank you. One warm mouthful of caffeine was down her throat before he noticed the crucifix in the trash can.

"Again?" he said, irritation in his voice. "If I find out who's doing this..."

Lois shrugged.

"How is Angelica doing?" He asked.

Lois smiled. "Getting bigger every day. We put in an offer on a house yesterday. Hoping to hear back soon. What about you, Smallville?"

He gave a shy smile. "I have a date tonight."

"Another one? With Diana?" Lois waggled her eyebrows, though the effect was somewhat ruined by her horns. "That's four dates, isn't it?"

He blushed and nodded.

The demonic reporter dug around in her purse. She came out with a three-pack of condoms—Superhuman Strength. Clark blushed...but took them and stuffed them into a pocket, mumbling a thank you.

Lois Lane grinned like the devil herself.

"It's not like I need them."

She was a few minutes late to the support group videocall. Raven, Blue Devil, and Red Devil were already online.

"Hey guys," she said. "Sorry, I'm late. How has your day been?"

It had been Zatanna's idea. The witch had figured that putting Lois in touch with people that faced some of the same issues she had might help—and Zee had been right. The weekly group meetings had really helped her get more comfortable in her own skin. Absently, she rubbed at the sore spot on her hand as she told them about the priest this morning, and the crucifix...

"You really shouldn't be that sensitive to those expressions of faith," Raven said. "I mean, your aura should be powerful enough that you can go into a cathedral during mass and take communion and be fine. While your body is that of a demon, your soul is still human."

"What are you saying?" Lois tilted her head, not quite getting it.

"I mean your sensitivity to religious symbols might be all in your head. A kind of psychological allergy."

"Huh," Lois said. "I never thought about it that way."

"Let's me walk you through a guided meditation some time," Raven said. "You shouldn't have to fear getting hurt just because of some religious bigot with a bit of holy water."

It was a good meeting, and gave Lois a lot to think about on her way back to the apartment.

All in my head. Does that mean I'm only getting burned because I think that's what I deserve? Do I really think I'm damned, just because I've got red skin, horns, and a dick? She thought. Her mind went back to those immortal lines of John Milton:

The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be...

As soon as Lois opened the door, Angie Blaze Lane fairly bounced into her arms. The demonic dickgirl reporter staggered under the load of her ludicrously pregnant wife. The very moment the bare belly pressed against her crotch, the demonic dick grew hard.

"We got the house! The seller took the offer!"

"That's great," Lois said, bending down to kiss her wife's face.

"Hmm, you know how I want to celebrate?" Angie said.

"Babe, you know the doctor told you to take it easy..."

"Right, right, but hear me out: we'll bend you over, so your cock is hanging off the edge of the bed, and I lick your ass and milk you so that you cum into my smoothie cup..."

Lois grinned as her wife went into elaborate detail, pulling off her clothes and guiding the demonic dickgirl into the bedroom. Heaven, hell, angels and demons, holy and unholy...all Lois knew was that as far as she was concerned, this was the only place she wanted to be...and she was happy with who she was.