#been seeing too much white lois lately i need my fix

[takadasaiko]

Conflict of Interest (a Superman & Lois oneshot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: His daughter’s relationship with Clark Kent has always been a conflict of interest for Sam, but never so much as it had been that day. Set after the main events of 1.12

Conflict of Interest

He had warned her. When Lois had dropped the bombshell that she'd agreed to marry Clark Kent, he'd warned her. She wasn't just marrying the bespeckled reporter that she'd fallen for - while lying to her for the first several months of their relationship and putting a bullseye on her back for the ones that followed - she was marrying Superman. Their lives would never be normal, no matter how much they wanted it to be. How much they pretended, because that's what it really was once the boys came along. Lois might know her husband's secret, but little boys that had no concept of the kind of danger they'd put their mother and themselves in? No, there was no way to tell them, and that left their parents lying to them, because their father - Lois' husband - wasn't normal. Earthquakes collapsed bridges during family dinner and supervillains didn't give a damn about PTA meetings.

Sam had hoped one of those warnings might stick all the way up to the wedding, but he'd raised a stubborn daughter. For a brief time he'd wavered back and forth on if he should assign one of his more promising up-and-comers to play liaison between Superman and the DOD. That didn't happen, though, and as he had stood on the Kent farm in full dress uniform and watched as the alien that the world had come to rely on so heavily lifted his laughing daughter up into his arms and spun her around, he had grimly started to come to terms with the fact that it never would. It was a clear conflict of interest and the military wouldn't blink twice before stripping him of all involvement with Superman if they ever found out. If they did that, though, Sam wouldn't be able to protect his little girl. To protect his family, and if he liked it or not, that included her husband.

They'd made it work, the two men finding a new and awkward balance between family and work. Sam had kept the casual meetings to a minimum. It wasn't until the boys were born that things started to get more complicated. Suddenly Lois wanted him around more. There were Christmas invites and birthdays, not to mention the once a year dinners that Martha Kent somehow thought he was required to attend. He even made it to the occasional pee wee football game or piano recital. Still, Sam was able to compartmentalize for the most part. He and Clark had lost the formal undertones of their conversations outside of the DOD and most days it was like talking to two separate people that wore the same face. So much so that Sam could almost understand how a pair of glasses somehow threw the world off his scent.

Somewhere along the way they got closer. Clark never approached him for parenting advice - Sam imagined that Lois had had a few warnings for him on that front - but there were moments when he caught the question behind the question the younger man was asking. His own father had been gone for years unless you counted some hologram something or the other that had access to the history of his home planet that apparently took on his biological father's form, and it was clear that Clark held a respect for Sam, even if there were a frustrating amount of times that they didn't see eye-to-eye on something. Personal conversations were had behind closed doors and eventually, as long as no one else was around, he became Clark even in red and blue. He was, no matter what name others referred to him as at that very moment, his son-in-law. He was family, and Sam always did whatever he thought was necessarily to protect his family. Sure, it was a conflict of interest, but one that he had told himself benefited everyone in the long run. He helped to protect his daughter's husband and, in turn, his daughter's husband helped protect the world.

He had just never expected to have to choose.

Clark Kent was many things, and one of those was steadfast in his devotion to the world that had welcomed him. He felt a responsibility, he'd told Sam time and again, and Sam believed him. That's why the four star general had thought that the worst case scenario that he'd authorized John Henry for was going to be just that. He'd been firm with Lois - give her an inch and she'd take a mile with it - and was treating it like any other threat. It wasn't until Irons was boots on the ground and Superman had laid him out like a ragdoll that it became evident that the worst case was also the reality and Sam was left with two choices: trust the man that he'd come to respect or take out the alien threat before he could destroy the very people that he'd once loved.

It couldn't be a conflict of interest. The world depended on it.

And with that, Sam had authorized Irons to put his son-in-law down like a rabid dog.

A long, loud car horn dragged him out of the horrible day's memory and Sam realized he'd simply stopped his SUV at the point he should have hung right down the dirt road leading to the Kent farm. A neighbor he was blocking down the east-bound lane made a frustrated gesture as he swerved around him and Sam steeled himself to make the turn. Well, they'd left the lights on for him. Apparently he was still an acceptable guest even if maybe not a welcomed one. It was fine. It was late enough that the household would be asleep and he could grab a quick shower and sleep for a few hours before hitting the ground running the next morning with the sun. After some rest maybe he could find the words to tell Lois… something. He was proud of her, he wished he'd had her resolve, he was sorry he put her through that. Something. Heaven knew she deserved it and he had promised things were going to be different.

Sam pulled the SUV up and parked it in front of the white paneled farmhouse before he killed the engine. His overnight bag was already in the guest room and he all but fell out of the vehicle, exhaustion snapping at his heels. He trudged up the path and was at the next-to-top step before he realized that he wasn't alone. "Clark," he greeted roughly, drawing the younger man's attention over to him from where he was leaning heavily against the railing that lined the porch.

"Sam. Hey. Get everything wrapped up?"

"We'll be wrapping up for a few more days, but we have -"

"Can it wait 'til morning?"

The question stopped Sam mid-sentence and he registered the pained expression on his son-in-law's face. A little pale, a little hunched over. He looked beyond exhausted. "You doin' alright?"

Clark forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "All alone in here," he promised, tapping a finger to the side of his head. "Just like the scans said."

"I know they did." Sam shifted his weight, feeling oddly uncomfortable under that blue-green gaze he'd long since become accustomed to. He loosed a long breath. "Listen, Clark…"

"If this is going to be an apology, I don't need one. I don't want one."

"I did give John Henry the green light to kill you."

"And it was the right call."

"Clark."

"In the moment, it was the right call." He grimaced and plucked his glasses from their place so that he could squeeze the bridge of his nose. There was a long, tense silence between them before he put them back, the weight not lifting off of him as he did. "He would have killed everybody we love."

"He?"

"The Kryptonian Tal-Roh tried to use me to resurrect," Clark answered softly.

Sam moved a little closer to better hear him. Not everyone on the property had super hearing. "Who was he?"

His gaze was distant, fixed on the cornfield that stretched out beyond the house he had grown up in. "A general. Zod. My father - Jor-El - knew him, but I only know the highlights. They're nothing compared to having him battering around your head even for a few hours."

"Is this someone we should be concerned about moving forward?"

"I don't think so. I think it was all or nothing. Either he won or I did."

"Glad you came out on top."

"Me too." He perked up, head swiveling towards the door like he heard something and Sam saw a shadow before his daughter became visible. She was dressed for bed in pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt with a Smallville High crow on it. Her house shoes had quieted her steps.

"Dad," she greeted, though it half sounded like a question as she pushed through the screen door. "It's freezing out here." Well, at least it didn't sound like she was about to turn him away. She did, however, turn to Clark. "The fresh air helping your headache?"

"A little."

"No one gets away from that one, huh?" Sam murmured, thinking about the one constant response from everyone they'd spoken to the night the Kryptonian consciousnesses had been ripped from them.

Clark gave a small, mirthless chuckle. "First one I've ever had. I think it's safe to say I'm not a fan."

The attempt at a joke tugged very slightly at the corner of Sam's lips and he risked a glance back at his daughter. Lois, though, was focused in with a worried expression on Clark. The tiny smile instantly vanished. "I'll let you two get some rest."

That brought her attention back around. "Is there any update?"

"It can wait 'til morning," he echoed Clark's earlier request. "Good night."

Sam thought he heard a quiet response as he pushed through the screen door and into the house. Shower, then bed. Tomorrow would be a new day and by then he was sure he'd know how to say what needed to be said. How to convey that, despite what Clark had just said, he disagreed. He hadn't made the right call that day. He should have taken a page from Lois' book and had a little more faith in the man that had proven himself time and time again.

And he would. It was time to end the conflict of interest and choose his family.

---

Notes: I've been wanting to write a one shot touching on Sam and Clark's relationship for some time now. I have two unfinished fics, but apparently this is the one that I could finish, so here we are.

Seriously considering a second chapter that follows Clark and Lois after Sam leaves and their conversation between his return and the next morning's debrief. Anyone interested?

[saultnpeppah]

Day 2: Love Endures Delay

Here is my submission for Day 2 of the WonderBat Key Phrases. @fyeahwonderbat

I can feel his gaze on my back, and I try to will my body not to react to his stare, but it's all in vain. That stare will always get me. A chill runs down my back and I try my hardest not to shiver visibly. I will not let him see what he did, does, to me.

"What can I do for you, Bruce?" I ask. I instantly regret my words as I watch the gears in his mind start to work. Had this been two weeks ago, I would have surely received a flirtatious comment, accompanied by playful banter and welcomed physical advances. But that was two weeks ago. That was before our argument. That was before he made his choice.

He clears his throat and I turn back to face him. "What are you doing here?" he asks, letting my original question go unanswered.

"I made a promise to Lois and Clark," I explain. My voice is harsh and he can hear the hostility I hold behind my words. "And I keep my promises."

He winces as I speak and I instantly regret what I've said. I didn't come here to hurt him. I didn't come here to make him realize it was a mistake. I didn't come here for him. I came here for my friends. I came here to celebrate the marriage and love of two people who deserve a happy ending. I came here to remind myself that love is not dead, that two people who are destined for each other will find a way, no matter the obstacles. But the more I look at Bruce, the more I stare into those beautiful eyes, the more I realize this will be harder than I thought. Seeing Bruce is painful, and I feel more ashamed that I feel this way than I should. I am an Amazon, a warrior since birth. But on the island they didn't teach us how to handle heartache. They didn't tell you how much this could hurt.

"You," Bruce begins, clearing his throat once more. "You look beautiful."

I nod my head. "Thank you," I respond. I can feel my cheeks begin to blush and I try my hardest to keep my composure. I will not come undone by one compliment.

Bruce nervously adjusts his tie, trying to think of what else to say. He watches as I rub my bare wrists, feeling naked and exposed without my armour, before he lets out a small sigh. "I've missed you, Diana," he confesses.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "We're not doing this," I say, pushing the glasses up higher on my nose.

"Doing what?" he asks.

I let out a sigh of my own. "Act like we're okay," I answer. "Partake in small talk when we both know that's not what either of us want to say." I stand up straight and uncross my arms from over my chest, before I turn to glance over my shoulder once more. Lois is coming this way and I don't want her to see what is going on between me and Bruce. As far as I know, no one knows we are no longer together. We didn't want that to be the topic of conversation during this special time in our friends' lives.

"Let's just focus on Lois and Clark" I manage to get out, before Lois pulls the door back and moves into the doorway. "Like nothing's changed," I manage to whisper

"Bruce," she says with a smile.

Bruce's mood changes instantly and he offers her a wide grin. Without a word he takes a step towards her and wraps his arms around Lois, gently placing a kiss on her cheek. "You look beautiful, Lois," he says. His eyes glance up at me and I can see the hurt behind them, but I remain silent.

"Thanks," she replies, her smile widening. "How's Clark holding up?"

Bruce lets out a small chuckle and it's like a thousand swords stabbing my heart. How I've missed hearing that laugh. I miss being the one to bring a smile to his face late at night, after a hard patrol, after one of Gotham's criminals got a way. I miss being the one who made him happy.

"He's nervous," Bruce says. "But I should get back to him before all his pacing creates a hole in the ground." He leans close to Lois once more and places another kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you soon," he says. Lois only nods. Bruce turns his attention to me and without warning leans in and places a kiss on my cheek. I freeze and my shoulders tense as I feel his lips leave my cheek and move to my ear. "Like nothing's changed," he whispers, before he pulls back and stares me in the eye. Without another word he takes a step back and walks down the hall, turning the corner. It is only then I am able to let out the shaky breath I have been holding. "So," Lois begins. There is a grin on her face and I can only guess what her next few words will be. "When will I be invited to your guys' wedding?"

I take a step inside the room and let the door close behind me. If Lois wants a wedding between Bruce and I, then she is going to be sorely disappointed. I don't have the heart to tell her, so I merely shrug and take a seat in the chair near the window.

Lois nods and shrugs. "I get it," she confesses. "When Clark and I first started dating I wasn't sure I would want the whole marriage thing either. But the more I think about it, the more I know there's no one else I would rather spend my life with. I love him, just like I know you love Bruce." She doesn't hear the small sigh I give. I loved Bruce - past tense. "Now, with you guys, it's difficult, because of," she looks over her shoulder and makes sure Lucy is preoccupied with something else. "The League," she finishes, "But you know what they say, 'Love endures delay'".

She watches as I raise an eyebrow, unsure if I believe what she has to say. I've spoken with Aphrodite herself, and now it seems as if the goddess of love has instilled some of her wisdom upon my friend. "You'll get your time," she says, turning to grab her veil. She places it on her head and fixes the lace that falls around her shoulders as I shake my head. If only she knew the truth.

"Are you sure you don't need any backup?"

I smirk as I listen to J'onn. "I'm sure," I say into my comlink. I gently pull my hair out of the ponytail it was fastened into at Lois', and fix the bracers on my wrists, completing my uniform in the shadows. After the party, J'onn had sent out a message stating there were reports of a robbery at the National Bank in Metropolis. I figured I had a few hours until Bruce got back to the manor, so I decided to answer the call, quickly transporting to the Watchtower to change into my uniform, before transporting back to Metropolis.

J'onn lets out a small sigh. "Okay, Diana," he says, unsure if he should let me go in alone. I can handle it J'onn. I'm an Amazon. "They have hostages," he reminds me."

I nod my head, knowing he can't see me, and reach for the lasso attached to my hip. J'onn cuts his communication with me and I am left with the dark silence that fills the alleyway. I carefully fly up to the roof of the building across the street from the bank and stare at the two armed men standing outside the front doors. My mind races as I try to think of the best way to go about this, my fists clenching as I ready my body and mind for a battle. That's when I notice it.

It's subtle at first, but the more I breathe, the heavier it becomes, until the all too familiar scent is filling my nose. "I could've handled it myself," I say, continuing to stare at the robbers guarding the door.

Bruce emerges from the shadows, his gloved hand on his utility belt. He says nothing as he stops beside me. We both turn when we hear Clark land on the roof to my left. "We thought you'd like a hand," Clark says, giving me a wink.

I only shake my head. "You two didn't have to cut your night short."

Clark only chuckles. "Don't worry," he begins, "I think we'd both rather be doing this than be at the bar."

Bruce only grunts, agreeing with Clark's statement. "I couldn't stand listening to his romance ramblings," he whispers. "If I have to hear "love endures delay", one more time, I'm going to punch him." I let out a small giggle as he pulls out a pair of binoculars and takes a look at the bank, stopping to let his eyes adjust when he switches the setting. "There's four more inside," Bruce says as he hands me the binoculars. "They have a group of hostages, five, maybe six."

I put the binoculars up to my eyes and let them adjust to the magnified image of the bank across the street. I can see the two robbers that guard the door, their guns drawn as they keep a look out for anyone that could stop their payday. Inside it is just as Bruce has said. There are four more robbers inside, each with a gun ready in hand. Three of them are pacing the floor, trying to keep themselves and their hostages calm as the fourth fidgets with the large safe in the back of the room. In the far corner is a group of six hostages. They each have their hands bound behind them and their mouths are covered, silencing any attempts at vocalizing their fears. I notice they are huddled together, and when one of them moves, trying to pry their hands from their restraints, my heart stops. In the middle of the group are two children. They can't be more than four. Their eyes are wide in fear and they cry harder each time they move their bound arms. It is then that I realize we need to stop this. Innocent people can get hurt; innocent children could die.

Bruce places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes the muscle he finds, trying to bring me back to reality. He knows there are children there, and he knows how I am about to react. "There are kids in there," I say, my hands clenching into fists.

"Diana," Bruce warns. He tries to stop me once more, but my mind is made.

I fly over to the roof of the bank, gently landing on the glass that shields the building from the night sky. I watch as Bruce shakes his head. The whites of his cowl narrow as he stares at me, before he turns to look at Clark to whisper something. Clark nods and jumps off the roof, landing beside me on the roof of the bank. "He's not happy," Clark whispers. He uses his xray vision to look into the building below us, trying to find the perfect opportunity to attack.

I shrug. "He'll get over it," I say. This is not the first time I have acted before Bruce has spoken, and it will not be the last. I am an Amazon, born a warrior. I've trained for years. It is not in my nature to stand back and be a spectator.

Clark is quiet for a moment. He looks up and locks eyes with mine, nodding once before he zooms off. I barely have time to register the red of his cape flying against the wind before I am crashing through the roof of the bank into the main lobby. I land on one of the robbers knocking him out before he even knows what hit him, carefully jumping in front of the group of hostages. My hands quickly reach out and grab both of the children as the familiar blue blur comes into my field of vision. They are in my arms one moment, the next Clark is rushing them out of the bank and to safety away from the men with guns. The men who have now noticed my presence and have pointed their weapons my way.

My lasso is in my hand before any of them have a chance to react and I throw it in front of me, catching one of the robbers by the wrist. I pull on my lasso, tightening the rope around his wrist, listening to him cry out in pain as he is forced to drop his weapon, before I throw him against the wall to the right. That is two down, two to go.

Behind me I can hear the constant swoosh from Clark picking up each hostage and running them to safety. One of the robbers fires a shot and I make sure to carefully block it with my bracers, letting the 'ping' it sends off echo throughout the otherwise quiet bank.

Clark rushes back into the bank, having left all the hostages in one of the police departments a few blocks south, ready to finish the job and make it back to Lois before she retires for the night. "There is an emergency on the space station." J'onn's voice rings throughout our comlinks and we both freeze momentarily.

"Go," I whisper to Clark, knowing he is one of the few who can make it there with little interference. "I got this." He nods, flashing me a small smile, before he rushes off, flying towards the sky in a red and blue blur that nearly blends into the dark skyline of Metropolis.

I watch as one of the robbers reloads his gun firing another shot towards me. It is easily blocked by the bracers once more and I let out a small chuckle. If this is all they are capable of, I will be back in the manor in no time. I quickly rush up to the man and grab him by the wrist, cracking it just enough to make him drop his weapon with a scream, before I pull him up and into the air by the collar. I am about ready to throw him across the room when something catches my eye. It's Bruce, and he's not alone.

He's dodging a punch from a fifth man, one none of us had accounted for, trying to avoid the brass knuckles on his fists. The man throws another punch, barely missing, however Bruce isn't fast enough and he grabs him by the cape, yanking him back down onto the ground. I am at Bruce's side in a matter of seconds, pushing the robber with my shoulder, watching as he falls back. He grips his side, where my shoulder rammed him, and he howls in pain. His eyes narrow and he lets out a snarl.

"You okay?" I ask over my shoulder. Bruce nods and rubs his neck.

"They work for Bane," he whispers. "Don't let them get into that vault."

I nod and turn towards the two robbers. One is standing in front of Bruce and I, the other is unlocking the vault at the end of the room. Without a word, I rush over to the guy by the vault, slamming my shoulder into the door, trying to keep it closed.

I am rewarded with a knee to the stomach. He hits me in the back of the head with the butt of his gun and I fall to the floor; that is going to be a massive headache later. I throw a punch to the man, watching as he dodges my fist, before he jabs his elbow into my ribs. I fall to the floor, confused. This is an ordinary man, yet he is beating me. Bane must've done something to both he and the man Bruce is fighting.

I look up and notice Bruce is fairing just as terrible as I am. Only thing is, Bruce does not have the strength, endurance, and healing I do. He stumbles forward as his opponent punches him in the back, and his teeth grit in pain as the man twists his arm in a way it should not bend. I regret my decision to be distracted by Bruce when I feel the sharp pain of a blade slicing through my flesh. I look down and take notice of the blade sticking out of my calf. It hurts like hell, and my legs waiver under my weight, but I know I can't let him win. I quickly pull out the knife and toss it aside, before I kick the man down with my good leg. I watch as he falls, hitting his head on the tile floor.

I turn to steal another glance at Bruce, confident that my opponent is still recovering from what should be a nice concussion. Bruce is on the floor, clutching his shoulder in pain. His grappling hook is a few feet from him. He tries to crawl towards the device, hoping it'll help him escape this physical torture, even if only long enough to regain focus once more. He is so focused on trying to reach the item he doesn't see his opponent step behind him. In his arms is a large gun, and I am suddenly very aware of Bruce's mortality. Without another thought I rush over to Bruce's opponent, forgetting about the man I have left laying on the floor, ignoring the severe pain that radiates from my torn muscle. Right now I don't have time to think about myself. Right now I need to save Bruce.

I make it just in time, ramming into Bruce's opponent with all the strength I have. A shot rings out and misses Bruce by millimeters, but I don't have the time to breathe a sigh of relief as his opponent has just become mine. He quickly grabs my ankle and pulls me close, before his hand clamps down on my injured leg. I let out a small groan, forcing myself to stay focused on the task at hand. I knee him in the face with my good knee, watching as he releases my leg and clenches his nose, which has started to spout blood. He glares at me, blood leaking from between his fingers, and his eyes narrow. He takes a step toward me, pulling a knife that has been sheathed inside his belt out, when an all too familiar object is flung across the room and hits him in the knuckles, forcing him to drop the weapon.

I chance a glance over my shoulder and see Bruce standing. He wobbles a bit as he pulls another batarang from his belt and holds it between his fingers, ready to throw it if necessary. He is hurt, but he is okay. That I can live with.

The three of us stare at each other for a moment, trying to calculate how to come out of this fight victorious. It is evident that Bane has been distributing venom to those who work for him, needing the upperhand. I only hope once this fight is over, Bruce and I will be able to stop him before it ruins the lives of countless people.

The darkness of the night is broken when the blue and red flashing lights begin to surround the building we stand in. Metropolis Police have finally responded. I can't help the smirk that forms on my face as I watch the man standing before Bruce and I curse silently. He turns to run at Bruce, knowing he is the easier target, when one of his fellow thieves whistles his way. "We got it," he says, raising his hand to show the man the large jewel clenched between his fingers. "Let's go."

The man wastes no time in obeying orders, grabbing Bruce and flinging him my direction. The Dark Knight collides with me, and had I been uninjured I would have been able to hold us both up. However, I am injured, and my leg waivers again under our combined weight. I collapse onto the floor with Bruce, watching as the men all run out of the bank and into the night, covered by the darkness the shadows provide.

Bruce lets out an audible groan as he rolls off of me and stands, his teeth clenching in both anger and pain. He glances in every direction, trying to find where the thieves have run off to, his hands clenched into fists as his head sways violently. He curses under his breath when he doesn't find any trace of them, and I know he is angry; the clenched jaw and narrowed whites of his cowl give it away.

He turns to me and offers me a hand. "You let them get away," he accuses as he pulls me to my feet.

I wince in pain as I step down with my injured leg, and I watch as he stares at me. He makes no attempt to see how I am doing, his mind focused on the failed mission. I have grown accustomed to working with Bruce and know this is how the Batman works. He puts the mission before anyone else's wellbeing, especially his own. Right now I am not Diana his girlfriend. Right now I am Diana his teammate - the teammate who has failed in his eyes.

"I was saving you," I say. My eyes narrow as I stare back at him. My hands cross over my chest and I stand straighter.

Bruce shakes his head. His eyes wander over the bank, taking in the destruction we, or rather I have caused. "You rushed in and didn't wait for a plan," he says as he walks away from me, towards the opened safe. "You were impulsive," he continues, "And you risked the mission because of-"

"Because of you," I finish for him. "Bruce, he would have killed you," I say, as I take a step towards the man. I follow him to the safe, unaware I am limping as hard as I am, until I take notice of the look on Bruce's face. He quickly snaps out of it, as he turns back to the safe and scans the empty box.

"I would have been fine," he says. I sometimes think Bruce forgets his own limits. He finishes his scan and picks up a hair left by the safe's door. "You could've gotten any of those people killed, including yourself," he says. He turns to face me and takes notice of how red my face is. I can feel the heat spreading from my cheeks to the tips of my ears and I shake my head in an attempt to conceal the anger I feel. No man, no person honestly, has ever been able to infuriate me as much as Bruce does.

"But I didn't," is all I say as Bruce walks away, his head hanging low as he continues to scan the floor of the bank for any clues to identify any of the thieves. He will be working on this for countless nights until he finds answers and our relationship will once again be put on hold until he can solve things. I let out a sigh and shake my head, trying to find humor in the irony of Clark's words to Bruce earlier. 'Love endures delay'. I used to believe in love, that it could conquer anything, but as I watch Bruce continue to work, not bothering to even acknowledge my presence, I begin to wonder if this time we've crossed a line that can't be forgotten.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

chemistry (my heart’s a city you’re out to destroy) - [ii/iii]

Kylo Ren - superhuman, mercenary, and the world’s most dangerous man – has recently resurfaced after a mysterious three-month disappearance.

Rey Niima, listicle writer by day and investigative reporter by night, is way too busy to worry about that. Seriously, she’s got a million things on her plate - she doesn’t have the time to think about anything else.

Especially now that news editor Benjamin Snoke has returned to the office and seems hell-bent on making her life… interesting.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s chapter two of my superhuman!Kylo/reporter!Rey AU! Get ready for five thousand words of the world’s dumbest love triangle ever. Poor Rey.

Chapter 1 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

Enough has changed about The Outpost in the last two months to put Rey on edge.

The skeevy club looks the same as always, but it’s the unfamiliar faces slipping out through the back entrance and disappearing into the dark alley that have Rey on edge as she hides in the bushes across the street and strains her eyes to make out distinctive features through her crappy Amazon binoculars. Even worse than the unfamiliar faces are the familiar ones, the ones she’s only ever seen in dossiers detailing crimes that make her stomach turn, and it’s almost enough to make her pack everything up and rush back to the safety of her home.

But this is what she’s been waiting for, this is what she’s spent the last six months looking for–

Her blood turns to ice as her ears discern a rustling of leaves from behind her, and Rey reaches for the knife in her boot just as a gloved hand claps over her mouth.

“Still playing Lois Lane, I see,” Kylo chuckles in her ear, voice distorted by that awful modulator of his. Rey allows herself a sigh of relief before she nips at the fleshy part of his palm and turns around to greet him with a scowl.

“Sadly you’re no Superman,” she huffs, willing her heart rate to return to normal as the last bit of terror drains away. Would it really kill him to just announce his presence? Or maybe have the decency to approach her rather than drop out of the sky with no warning?

Kylo shakes his head as he settles in next to her, heedless of the grass stains forming on his suit. “Hey, I might be getting there.”

Rey sets aside her binoculars in favor of studying him. The mask gives nothing away, it never does, but that just means she’s spent the past two years learning to read every other bit of him. The way his shoulders tense when he’s being particularly vulnerable; the way his fingers curl into and then away from his palm when he’s frustrated or hesitant or even scared; the way his head droops sometimes because even if she can’t see him he can see her, and there are times when he just can’t look her in the eye–

“Is… is that what you’re doing? Are you one of the good guys now?”

It feels wrong, reducing things to black and white, good and bad after everything she’s learned about him since the day they first met. To suggest that Kylo was bad before, that he was ever entirely bad… it’s way off the mark, and Rey knows that better than anyone. But she can’t think of any other way to describe this sudden shift in his MO, allegations of murder suddenly replaced by acts of vigilantism since his return a week ago.

Kylo shrugs, his eyes – well, his mask – fixed firmly on the exit she’d been so closely monitoring just minutes ago. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a low rumble she’s learned to recognize as a whisper. “Everyone loves a good redemption arc, don’t they?”

He keeps his eyes on the club even as Rey stares at him so intently she’s almost surprised she hasn’t burned a hole into the side of his helmet. But she can’t help herself, entranced by this puzzle just like any other.

Because here stands – or squats – Kylo Ren, leader of the world’s most dangerous team of operatives, a five-person superhuman team capable of regime change overnight, of broad daylight assassinations, of heists that should not be physically possible. And now suddenly, after a three-month disappearance he still won’t talk to her about, he’s a lone wolf dropping off wanted criminals at the local precinct’s doorstep and… ‘liberating’ confidential records leading to the downfall of key players in the city.

He’s always puzzled her but this… this is new. This is more than anything that has ever come before, than everything that has ever come before combined, and Rey can’t even begin to make sense of it, of him.

Eventually, Kylo turns to her. “What?” he asks, and Rey hates that she thinks she hears a smile in his voice but can’t see it, can’t see him. In the early days she’d been desperate to figure out who the man under the mask was for all the reasons one would expect of a journalist, but then that desperation had turned to frustration when she couldn’t put a face (or even a real voice) to her midnight fantasies, and eventually that frustration had morphed into unreasonable hurt as the days turned into weeks turned into months turned into years and still he refused to share anything of himself with her.

And it’s only gotten worse since his return.

“What made you change your mind?”

Kylo is quiet for the longest time, and with every passing second of silence a lump grows in her throat and sits heavy on her chest. Will he ever tell her anything again? Did he even tell her that much to begin with? Throughout their… whatever the hell this has been, Rey has eagerly taken every tiny crumb he’s tossed her way in the hopes of eventually puzzling him out, and all along she’s been too busy slotting the tiny pieces into place to ever take a step back and realize she barely has anything.

“I didn’t,” Kylo finally says, and his next words are so predictably vague Rey can’t even bring herself to feel disappointed. “I just finally became my own boss.”

But then who was the boss before? Why did she not know there was one? The whole world thinks he’s the one in charge, he’s the one pulling the strings and leading the rest of the Knights – and where are the rest, anyway? Did they decide not to come back from their break? Were they the reason for the break?

She opens her mouth even before she’s picked out a question to begin with, only for Kylo to hush her and pull her down to the ground.

“I think that’s enough investigative work for tonight, sweetheart,” he says as gunshots pierce the silence of the night and trigger a symphony of chaos.

This, at least, is familiar to her – yet another one of the many little skirmishes that frequently break out among the lower-ranking members of the gang who like to hang around the club. Rey doesn’t even need to look up to know that no one of interest is involved here, or even on the scene; all of her targets know better than to hang around such a spectacle.

Kylo tugs at her arm and motions for her to follow his lead, staying low to the ground just in case. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your car.”

Rey turns back to gather her equipment only to find that he’s already handled it, her ratty canvas backpack bouncing against one shoulder with every move of his arms.

“No car tonight,” she whispers back as they crawl away. “I took an Uber.”

He stills and turns back to stare at her. Rey can almost imagine the look of exasperation on his face – a featureless one, composed of ever-changing eyes and lips and noses. “Rey,” he groans, and the note of concern he can’t quite hide even with the modulator squeezes her heart in the most painful way.

“It’s less risky than having someone recognize my car.”

Kylo concedes her point with a huff, and they continue to crawl until he deems them a safe distance away. “Let’s get you out of here and somewhere safe enough for an Uber driver,” he says as he helps Rey to her feet, and she brushes away blades of grass stuck to his front to buy herself some time.

The offer’s been on the tip of her tongue for months now, and one of Rey’s greatest regrets when he disappeared and she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again was not just blurting it out when she had the chance to. But now that she’s here, and he’s here, and she can feel how warm he is even through the leather of his suit…

She takes a deep breath, forces herself to look up at him. “Or you could walk me home.”

His sharp inhale crackles through the modulator but he doesn’t look away, and even through the mask Rey can feel his eyes on hers. Lately she’s been thinking they might be brown. Not the dull kind, but a rich, deep tapestry of mahogany and chocolate with little flecks of amber, dark but expressive, stern but kind, so easy to misread until you get close enough to realize–

Kylo drags her back before she can get too distracted. “Would you invite me up for a nightcap?”

Blood pounding in her ears, Rey forces a laugh as she swats his bicep and ignores the little thrill that runs up her spine from smacking against a solid wall of muscle. “I’ll have you know I’m a third date kind of girl,” she protests even as her lips twitch with a smile and she feels herself leaning into him.

A big, warm hand curls around her waist as he laughs. If she could just hear him laugh for real, just once, without that goddamn device… Rey thinks she might die happy.

“I’d say we’re well past our thirtieth at this point, sweetheart.”

It’s ridiculous, really, that she made it through the entirety of her teen years without once experiencing that heart-skips-a-beat, butterflies-in-stomach sensation all her friends gushed about only for it to hit her now.

“So we are–?”

A drop of water splattering against her nose silences her, and Rey looks up at the dark sky just in time for the heavens to open up and unleash a storm none of her seven weather apps predicted. “What the hell?”

Kylo slips his hand into hers. “Come on, let’s make a run for it.”

Alternatively he could just do that disappearing thing he does so well, as long as he takes her with him and brings them somewhere dry, but before Rey can suggest that he’s tugging at her hand and breaking out into a run she can’t help but keep up with. At some point the sight of Kylo Ren running in the rain and turning to her every minute or so with a quiet laugh makes the experience bearable, and she decides to just go with it until they find themselves standing in front of a closed café with a tiny roofed patio.

Raindrops are tracing little paths down the curve of Kylo’s helmet and dripping down onto his suit, and for some reason the sight brings to mind the image of a drenched cat. To his credit, he doesn’t react when a breathless Rey suddenly doubles over with laughter, just waits until she eventually straightens up again before he brings one gloved hand to her face and brushes her clumpy, wet hair away.

All lingering humor evaporates into the air as she stands stock still, holding her breath as his hand slowly moves down to cup her cheek.

Rey darts her eyes down to where his lips would be as her heart rate suddenly triples, looks back to where she thinks his eyes are as her throat goes dry. The same brown eyes from before, from her dreams, flash in her mind and she finally recognizes them just as her eyes begin to flutter, gives Kylo the tiniest of nods and parts her lips even as something in her hesitates–

He caresses her cheek with his thumb, and then drops his hand back to his side. “Call a car. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

She blinks, eyes still stuck on his mask as he presses something – her soaking wet backpack – into her hands. “Wait, what–”

Kylo’s gone with a single leap into the night sky, black leather impossible to pick out in the darkness.

And Rey, Rey is left alone to deal with the same old frustration and loneliness she’s taken to bed with her for the past two years.

Two weeks pass without any sign of Kylo at their usual haunts. She’d be wary of another months-long disappearance, but every other day her Twitter feed is spammed by pictures of him going about his vigilante business all over town. He’s saving little old ladies from muggers, he’s dropping off criminals at the precinct’s doorstep, he’s sneaking into top-floor offices to ‘liberate’ incriminating evidence… he’s everywhere except their usual haunts, running into everyone but her. Part of Rey – a huge part of her, really – wants to feel angry and betrayed and sad, but… but she’s got better things to focus on.

Like the fact that the top dogs in the Guavian Death Gang are now hanging around The Outpost. Plus her article about imposter syndrome has now been trending for three days straight. And she’s pretty sure Ben’s been leaving muffins on her desk every morning.

That last one is on her mind as she wraps up another late-night meeting with Amilyn after her third stake-out – sans Kylo Ren, who apparently can’t be bothered anymore. “Hey, Amilyn?” Rey hesitates at her editor’s door, hugging her files close to her chest.

“Yes?”

She turns away from the door and walks back into the office. “Can I… can I ask you about Ben?”

Amilyn gives her a knowing smile. “He’s quite a looker, isn’t he?”

Oh yes, so much so that her subconscious has decided to give dream Kylo his eyes and hair, but there’s no need to tell her editor that. “No, that’s not– well, I mean, yes, but– it’s not about that,” she declares firmly, slumping into her previous seat even as Amilyn raises one delicate brow in skepticism. “It’s just… when I first started here, I heard some stuff about him. A lot of stuff, really, from almost everyone here. But now that he’s actually here, none of that really matches up.”

“Oh?” Amilyn asks, leaning forward as her eyes gleam with interest.

“He’s… he’s sweet,” Rey mumbles, looking down at her hands as her cheeks heat up. “And he does these things… just little things, really, but…”

“Ben…” her editor sighs after a moment of silence. “Ben’s never been the friendliest person, but he has so much to offer once he warms up to someone; I wish the rest of the office could see that. But I will say there has been a change since his father passed away.”

“His…” Rey gapes at her. “His father passed away?”

Amilyn frowns. “That’s the reason he was on leave, dear. I mean, we all referred to it as family business, but I thought everyone knew.”

“Well, no one told me.” But then again, it’s not exactly the kind of thing you just throw into casual conversation, and it’s not like Rey had ever asked. She’d been told on her first day that the news editor was taking some personal time off, and that had been that. “Oh my god, poor Ben.”

“At the risk of sounding indelicate… I honestly think this might be one of the best things that ever happened to him.”

Rey finds herself staring at her boss, completely speechless.

“It sounds awful, I know,” Amilyn hurries to explain, “but they never had the best relationship. In fact, Ben used to come talk to me all the time because he had no one else to turn to and his father was so overbearing it drove him up the wall. But ever since he came back, he’s been… lighter. Freer, I think, and maybe even happier.” She offers Rey a shrug. “But that’s just my opinion.”

“Right,” Rey says faintly, her mind elsewhere as she tries to process this information and make it fit with the rest of the puzzles pieces she’s collected so far. So Ben had a bad relationship with his father, but it’d taken him three months to deal with his death. And she’s heard all kinds of things about him since she first joined Raddus, but maybe all of that is outdated now that Amilyn says he’s changed? And are the muffins – and the shy little smiles he gives her when they catch each other’s eye – part of that new change?

Hell, the first day they met, when they bumped into each other and he so rudely walked away – had she been too quick to judge? Maybe he just wasn’t prepared to talk to anyone yet, maybe he was overwhelmed by being back at work after so long, maybe he was thinking about his father…

As always, Ben Snoke remains a giant question mark in her mind. Everything about him – from the sudden change in his behavior towards her to his appearance in her dreams – confuses the hell out of Rey. She gets up and bids Amilyn good night in a daze, completely distracted by her reframing of every interaction they’ve ever had. It’s only when she hears the clatter of someone dropping a spoon into the sink that Rey looks up and sees a light on in the upstairs breakroom.

Somehow, she knows who she’ll find in there before she even decides to check it out.

“Another after-hours meeting with Amilyn?” Ben asks as she appears in the doorway, large hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee as he leans against the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I, um… couldn’t wait to get her approval on this article about… poisonous butterflies?” Rey offers weakly, internally cursing her complete inability to lie for the thousandth time. This is exactly why she’s hesitant to move into the undercover work part of her investigation.

Ben stares her down.

“What?” she demands defensively even as her skin prickles under his observation.

“You’re hiding something, Rey Niima,” he announces casually as he lifts his cup to his lips.

Rey’s heart stops. “Am not,” she shoots back unthinkingly, only for Ben to laugh and shake his head at her.

“I saw you, you know. The other night at The Outpost. You need to be more careful.”

Oh, this is bad. This is so, so bad. “How did you– who else– wait.” Her panic comes to a screeching halt as she narrows her eyes at him. “What were you doing at a strip club on the wrong side of town?”

“I–” Ben hesitates, falters, falls silent for a beat as Rey watches his throat work. “Why else?” he finally says with a rueful little grin on his lips, but–

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rey confidently refutes as she walks further into the breakroom.

Ben laughs, a curt little puff of air that’s more self-deprecating than amused. “I’m a single, straight man, Rey. I’m pretty sure it makes all the sense in the world–”

Rey shakes her head. “You do realize there are at least ten people in this office who’d jump at the chance to get with you, right?” she asks with a frown. Actually, now that she thinks about it, Ben probably doesn’t spend nearly enough time with them to see the way Poe’s always checking his ass out or hear the things Jess says about climbing him like a tree. “You don’t actually have to–”

“What about you?” Ben asks abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck and stains his cheeks pink. Oh. He’s shy. That’s… strangely adorable, made all the more so by the fact that she catches sight of one red ear when he runs a hand through his hair.

“Me?” Rey blinks. Oh. The strip club. “You know, I just happened to be in the area–”

Ben cuts her off almost immediately, and she can’t even blame him; in a lifetime of bad lies, that one might actually be bad enough to make it into the Hall of Fame. “No, not that. I meant… what about you? Would you… would you jump at the chance?”

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Rey’s heart stops.

But this time… this time it’s not ice-cold fear that fills her veins and lungs. This time, it’s butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh.”

Ben sets down his coffee without looking away from her. “Or not. You don’t have to, you know, jump at the chance, just maybe consider it–”

“Oh.”

This is… this is unexpected. This is new. Worst of all, this is nice, and Rey can feel herself starting to smile, and how dare her stomach get butterflies over someone other than–

“Never mind,” Ben mumbles, looking down at his feet. “Just forget it. Sorry. That was stupid of me, I’m just… I mean, I’m no Kylo Ren–”

He gives Rey as wide a breadth as possible as he walks past her, and all she can do is watch, paralyzed by the mention of Kylo, by the reminder–

The reminder of what? Of how she’d put herself out there only to be left wanting? Of dreams that’ll never be anything more? Of almost-moments that he always shies away from at the last second? Of two years of waiting, and hoping, and dreaming like a foolish, deluded child scaring off one prospective family after another because she couldn’t go with them, couldn’t leave, not before her real family came back–

No. No. Rey’s ruined her life once before waiting on a dream, and she swore to herself years ago that she’d never make that mistake again.

So she turns around and lunges after Ben, wraps her fingers around his wrist and tugs.

“You’re no vigilante superhuman,” she agrees, voice weak and wavering but growing more certain with every word, with every passing moment, “but you’re something better.”

Ben turns around and looks at her with stars in his eyes, and it hurts because all she’s ever wanted was for Kylo to look at her that way but she doesn’t know if he even looks at her at all, will never know how he looks at her or how he feels about her or anything.

But Ben… Ben looks at her like she’s a little miracle, and Ben leaves muffins at her desk, and Ben stops by sometimes to teasingly rib her for her latest listicle.

Ben is real, and here, and he wants her. He wants her.

So Rey takes a deep breath, and lets go of everything she’s held onto for so long. “Kylo… Kylo Ren’s great and all, but he’s… he’s a fantasy, isn’t he? He’s like a Marvel superhero or a Disney prince, something everyone wants, something out of a dream. It’s a nice dream,” she acknowledges, taking a second to remember it fondly before she shatters it to pieces.

“But that’s all it’ll ever be,” Rey finally admits to herself, and even as a part of her dies there’s a bigger part that can finally breathe again.

“But–” Ben begins to say just as Rey steps closer and moves her hand up to his forearm.

“He’s a fantasy,” she says again, and the words come easier this time. “But you…you’re something better, Ben. You’re real.”

Ben stares at her for the longest time. He’s holding his breath, she can tell, and he’s looking at her like she’s the single most terrifying thing he’s ever seen, and his bare skin under her fingertips is better than any dream she’s ever had.

And then finally he speaks, words spilling past him in a single breath. “Would you like to go out sometime?”

Rey smiles, and slowly, hesitantly, so does Ben.

“How about this Saturday?”

Three days before her date with Ben, Rey goes on one final stake-out. It’s the last one, she promises herself, no more getting scared or backing down after this, it’s high time for her to move on to stage two–

A hand covers her mouth.

“I see someone’s back for more.”

This time, Rey swats his hand away and scowls at him.

“And I see someone’s finally deigned to grace me with his presence,” Rey bites back, pausing just long enough to give him a scowl before she turns back to her target.

She told herself she wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t let Kylo catch on to any changes in her, but now that she’s buried all… pleasant thoughts about him deep, deep down, there’s nothing to distract her from the nights she wasted hanging around a closed museum, waiting and hoping and worrying, only to finally trudge home with disappointment weighing her down…

When Kylo steps closer, her throat fills with unexpected bitterness. It’s not his fault that she’d allowed herself to be a delusional, pining fool for two years, not his fault that she’d taken his obviously casual flirting as something more, but all the same she hates him for being able to make her feel things just by stepping into her personal space.

“Rey, about last time–”

She tenses and grits her teeth, keeps her eyes fixed on the club. “Don’t–”

And that’s when The Outpost explodes into a million pieces of flaming shrapnel, a significant amount of which seems to be headed in her direction.

Kylo pulls her behind him before any of the burning projectiles can make contact, and within seconds he’s sweeping her into a bridal carry and getting them the hell out of there. He stares straight ahead, completely focused on navigating the darkness at high speed, leaving Rey to look up at the harsh angles of his mask as a lump forms in her throat.

Their first meeting had gone a little something like this too. A disgruntled former employee of First Order Funds had threatened to blow up the entire financial district, and the city watched on in slack-jawed shock as the Knights of Ren, previously spotted only in grainy security footage in the dead of night, showed up in the middle of the day to handle the threat. Most people were happy to watch the event play out in the safety of their homes, news chopper footage streaming live on their phones, but of course Rey hadn’t been prepared to let this chance pass her by.

While the police set up an evacuation parameter and enforced it, Rey stealthily crept closer and closer to the action until finally she was just ten feet away from Armitage Hux’s turned back, half-hidden behind a car as she fiddled with her phone and looked up–

Only to find Kylo Ren looking at her. Well, at the time it had been hard to tell, what with the mask and all, but somehow Rey just knew he was looking directly at her – which is probably why he moved towards her the second Hux hit the detonator and quickly scooped her up before he set himself to the impossible task of outrunning the flames that were rapidly consuming one closely-packed building after another.

As soon as he deemed them far enough, he set her down and called her an idiot, and she poked him in the chest and called him a monster, and they’ve been something like friends ever since.

Or more.

Rey loses herself in her memories and only comes to when Kylo starts snapping his fingers in front of her face. They’re far from the club now – she can’t even see the fire – and at some point he must’ve set her down because she’s back on her own two feet, a safe distance away from him.

“Rey, are you even listening? You need to stop doing this, it’s too dangerous–”

She bristles at that. “This is my job, Kylo. And you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do,” Rey states with a scowl as she crosses her arms over her chest. The nerve of him, honestly. Too dangerous. If it hadn’t been for him distracting her, she would’ve spotted the bomb and gotten the hell out of there in time. Perfectly fine, and with her scoop, and all without Kylo Ren.

Who softens at her words and curls a warm hand around her waist. “Sweetheart, please. I just… I don’t know how I’d live with myself if something were to happen to you.”

Even through the modulator she can hear the sincerity in his voice; even through the mask she can see the concern in his eyes. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of…

And it’s about two weeks too late.

Rey shrugs his arm off and steps away, steels herself for her next words. “You… you shouldn’t touch me like that anymore. Or say stuff like that.”

Kylo steps forward. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Rey nods. “I’m… I’m seeing someone now. Well, I mean, not yet, our first date is on Saturday–”

“How exciting,” he says, and the truly awful thing about it is that he means it – she can hear the smile in his voice, the teasing note that isn’t all too different from the one her friends had used to react to her news.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does – the realization that Kylo really doesn’t care, that maybe he never cared at all. Why should it matter to her, after all, when she’s already let go of him and is truly, genuinely excited for her date with Ben?

“Yeah, so, um… this, us–” Except there was never even as us to begin with, was there? “– we should stop. I just, I really like this guy, and I’d hate for him to see pictures of me running around with masked men in the middle of the night, you know?”

The only thing that assuages her guilt is that she really, truly means that. No matter how confused she is about her feelings right now, she knows with absolute certainty that she would never want to hurt Ben that way.

“I understand,” Kylo assures her. He’s much more serious this time, but there’s still that hint of a smile in his voice, completely devoid of disappointment or jealousy or hurt…

But that’s not what Rey wants, anyway. She’s not some high-schooler trying to use jealousy to bait her crush into making a move. She’s a grown woman setting boundaries with her… work friend? Acquaintance? Almost-lover?

It’s all too much to think about, especially here and now. “Thanks,” she tells Kylo. “Okay, I… I’m just going to go now.”

He nods. “Get home safe, sweetheart.”

She always does. He always makes sure she does, and something tells Rey that’s not about to change. After all, as far as he’s concerned nothing’s changed between them.

But then, just as she’s about to turn away–

“Rey?” Kylo reaches for her wrist, his voice unusually gentle. “He’s… he’s a lucky guy, your date. I hope it works out for you two.”

He’s not you, Rey almost says. He’ll never be you… but I’m starting to be okay with that. Instead, she gently withdraws her hand from Kylo’s and gives him a small smile. “Yeah, me too.”

A moment passes between them, one last chance for either of them to say something.

“Good night, Rey.”

And then it’s over.

Rey nods and turns her back on him. “Goodbye, Kylo.”

Oops, it's been a week. In case y'all were wondering, this is why I usually stick with one-shots.

Another reason I stay away from multi-chapters: more opportunities to mess up and ruin the story! I'm really uncertain about this chapter and how fast things are moving (and that's after I adjusted my original outline and tried to slow things down), so I really, really hope I haven't messed up. Oh well, in any case: it'll all be over soon, friends. Only one chapter left!

As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked it. And please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

[toongrrl-blog]

The Mommy Myth: Threats from Within (Part One)

Okay time to see the Moms “gone bad” and other Moms who required a lot of empathy but only got vilified on the media or were given anxiety inducing media. 

This was the era of the tabloid show like A Current Affair and America’s Most Wanted, “the crack baby epidemic”, depraved maternal figures, teen moms, smothering mothers, Lifetime movies where shit goes wrong, surrogacy, and the news that no you cannot let your kids go walking to the park by themselves. The era of sensationalism made no care for maternal ambivalence nor for the nuances of individual mother’s lives, only for black and white. Heroes or villains. No grey area. 

The “deviant mothers” featured were vilified for being supposedly narcissist and self-indulgent, odd given that I previously covered celebrity moms. But the celeb mom is portrayed as self-indulgent and narcissist on behalf of her kids and everyone who looks at her. Throwing money on diets, spa treatments, workouts, beauty treatments, and clothes were “necessary” as it was so someone had something pretty to look at. But have needs or desires that had nothing to do with your family, you were so bad! 

Scene: Suburban New Jersey, 1985. Dr. Elizabeth and Mr. William Stern wanted a baby but Dr. Elizabeth Stern was in her late thirties and had multiple sclerosis and they went to the New York Infertility Institute and were approved for surrogacy and hooked up with Mary Beth Whitehead, a homemaker and high school dropout with two children and a husband who was a sanitation worker. As she said:

I don’t have an education. I don’t have a skill. The only skill I know I do well is being a mother.

A contract was signed where Mary Beth would be paid $10,000 upon the Sterns receiving the baby, where she’d be impregnated with William Stern’s sperm and the Sterns would pay her medical expenses and a $7,500 finders fee to the Institute. On March 27, 1986 Mary Beth gave birth to a baby she named Sara and she had a change of heart and decided to keep the baby. The Sterns wanted the baby and the judge awarded temporary custody to the Sterns, who named the baby Melissa. When William came to pick up Baby M, the Whiteheads bailed for Florida with the baby, leaving their two older kids with the grandparents there and lived on the run (BTW this is a perfect scenario for a movie, I think Raising Arizona was loosely inspired by this).

Mary Beth’s actions flew in the face of what “surrogate moms were supposed to do”, they were supposed to be like Elizabeth Kane in 1980 and kiss the baby goodbye to a more affluent life (Kane eventually testified on behalf of Mary Beth). Or get pregnant and give the baby away to your infertile sister or be like Glenn Close in The Big Chill where she let her single friend sleep with her husband so she can have a baby of her own. Like Susan J. Douglas and Meredith Michaels, I subscribe to Mo’Nique’s school of thought regarding your friends and your man (maybe the Smug Marrieds should watch this and think twice about flaunting their rings to Bridget Jones):

People had a lot of shit to say about the Baby M situation, it involved issues like classism and sexism, who deserved the baby? The woman who carried her for nine months but was lower middle class and married to the garbageman or the biochemist who donated the sperm and paid the money? The trial started in the New Jersey Superior Court on January 5, 1987 where Whitehead was hit with several old-fashioned stereotypes about women: they can’t make up their minds and they are hysterical. Gary N. Skoloff, attorney to the Sterns, went Maddy Perez like the Whiteheads were a pot of chili. Skoloff listed 35 reasons why Mary Beth shouldn’t get the kid, amongst them was her mental health and her marriage to the garbageman with a alky problem. Also Mr. Stern recorded a phone conversation with Mary Beth unbeknownst to her. She was frantic: the Sterns had a judge freeze her family’s assets (which included the home, furnishings inside, car, and bank accounts). The media didn’t hear that or report it but they did on the desperate Mary Beth saying “I’m going to do it Bill....I’m going to do it; you’ve pushed me to it...I gave her life. I can take her life away”. The subtext also that being under educated and working class were not factors in making a good parent.

Honestly if your assets were frozen by someone who had the means and connections, wouldn’t you be unhinged? I think that Mary Beth needed to be treated for postpartum psychological issues rather than reviled as “The Crazy Woman” and don’t we make the worst arguments, imagine if you appeared saying and doing dumb shit like Bridget Jones and it was played on TV? Also on the tapes she was recorded as saying “I’ve been breastfeeding her for four months. Don’t you think she’s bonded to me? Bill, I sleep in the same bed with her. She won’t even sleep by herself...she knows my smell, she knows who I am--don’t I count for anything?” The media didn’t show that. More judgments came as her background opened up: her husband is an alcoholic, she and her husband separated for a while and she was on welfare in the past, her son had school issues (imagine how many affluent parents have kids with that problem), daughter Tuesday had frostbite when the furnace broke down (I’m not hating, winter in the East Coast sounds rough), and they went to the slut-shaming route when they got Mary Beth to admit she worked as a “barroom dancer”. 

And now it got really nasty: she didn’t play patty cake right (!), took pots and pans away from the baby and gave her a stuffed panda (uh I don’t know what kind of pots and pans they were around but I’m Latina), she dyed her prematurely gray hair brown (oh the horrors!)...a word from Karen Wheeler for now:

All these made her not an ideal mother. Okay am I getting some pissed off women in this post? Unicorn colored haired girls? Bottle blondes? Fake redheads? Anyone covering the grey? Henna heads? Well soon feminists and celebs like Our Queen Meryl Streep, Gloria Steinem, Carly Simon (one of our reigning Ladies of shady breakup songs), Lois Gould, and Betty Friedan all issued a statement of solidarity with Mary Beth Whitehead reading “By these standards, we are all unfit mothers”.  Thank Jesus for this action of solidarity because the media was playing one of it’s favorite games: pit women against each other. Dr. Elizabeth and Mary Beth were represented as doctor vs. housewife, barren vs. fertile, educated vs. under educated; so far the media was on Dr. Elizabeth’s and her husband’s side, which was okay for her but while the media cut her slack for being a quiet ride-along who was professional and educated and “of the right class” she got away with things that the media wouldn’t be kind with. While the media covered Mary Beth’s deteriorating mental health, they didn’t cover her testimony which read like a list of things that would normally get moms judged:

She wasn’t going to cut back on her work because “I didn’t realize how much time is required to raise a child.”

She claimed she was the “psychological mother” and therefore the true mom.

Her husband’s testimony said they’d have the kid in full-time day care (probably a nice day care like the academy in Daddy Day Care).

Activities with Baby M were trips to Bloomingdales.

During a cross-examination, Dr. Stern said she wouldn’t want to see the baby if Mary Beth was awarded custody

So what of Mr. Stern? He was basically cosplaying Ted Wheeler.

And he said “Fathers have feeling, too” which made him appear like the victim to the public when he had the means and access to a lawyer who went savage on Mary Beth. On April 1st (haven’t you heard, irony is dead), Judge Harvey Sorkow awarded custody to the Stern family on grounds that they provide better care than Mary Beth could (or afford). Mary Beth Whitehead was denied visitation rights by the judge, enabled the Sterns to adopt Baby M who was officially named Melissa Stern. Later that month it got bittersweet for Mary Beth: she regained brief visitation rights but got divorced and she remarried and had two more children, which the Sterns’ lawyer said was proof of “her personality problems” (wow imagine if the Duggars were tarred with that brush) while she tried to fight for longer visits. The next year saw Sorkow’s ruling thrown out by the appeals court on grounds of condoning baby selling, the adoption invalidated, and Mary Beth’s standing as mother restored. She got visitation rights, years later Mary Beth and older daughter Tuesday went on Dr. Phil where they talked about the case. Tuesday said the case contributed to the divorce and the strain was too much for the late Mr. Whitehead, who died from cancer years before their appearance. Mary Beth said she wouldn’t recommend this and if she had the chance, she’d never do it again, being a surrogate mother. At that time, Melissa was 16 and according to Mary Beth their relationship wasn’t good and she did attend Tuesday’s wedding though but claimed the Sterns made it difficult for the two half-sisters to have a relationship. Then five years later, Melissa was a junior at George Washington University as a sorority member and religion major and found it strange when the case was brought up in her Bioethics class, she hoped to become a minister and a mother and at 18 she allowed the Sterns to fully adopt her, terminating Mary Beth’s rights. 

And those fixing their lips to say that the Sterns had more rights because they could afford a “good life” for her? I leave this for you to watch.

So the media savaged Mary Beth Whitehead, a working-class white mother who gave birth to a healthy and chubby baby, how did the media treat poor, drug-addicted black mothers and their “crack babies”? (TL;DR, it was bad, very bad, you know it’s bad bad really really bad!). 

Up next...and for all you moms dealing with the judgements from an unhelpful world, here are words from Lois Foutley

[tessatechaitea]

Man of Steel #3

The maniac was Uncle Bushido zombie David Bowie Lobo?!

I get the feeling when Brian Michael Bendis was designing the character of Rogol Zaar, people kept asking him, "Are you trying to make him like Lobo?" And Bendis's answer was always, "Why do people keep asking me that? Of course I am! Now I have to make him even more like Lobo so they stop asking!" Because at first, he just sort of looked like him with the white and black motif and the facial hair. But then readers were introduced to his love of genocide. Then when people were thinking, "Geez, Brian. You know Lobo already exists, right?", he let us all in on Rogol Zaar's unique method of getting around space: a space Harley! At that point, there were few people defending the blatant rip-off of Lobo in the character design. But those few who were left were all, "No way. Totally different. It's not like Rogol Zaar loves space dolphins and has a skull belt buckle!"

Game, set and match!

Rogol Zaar trashes the Fortress of Solitude before finding the Bottle City of Kandor half full of Superman's late night wees. There's no guessing what he's going to do with it! Except this comic book isn't being told in the world that I want to live in so there are probably just a few guesses that could be true. Fucking it until all the Kandorians drown in Rogol Zaar cum probably isn't one of them. Superman hears the Fortress of Solitude alarm and leaves Batman to investigate the arsons in Metropolis. Superman is a boy scout and not a detective. Superman can start a fire but he can't tell you who started one. I hope there isn't a "Man of Steel Tie-in!" issue of Batman where Batman has to leave Catwoman on their honeymoon to investigate arson for twenty pages. But I do hope there's a Catwoman "Man of Steel Tie-in!" issue where Batman has to go investigate arson on their honeymoon so she spends twenty pages masturbating in a heart shaped bed.

Superman grew up with the most cerebral parents. "Stuff is just stuff" and "Fire is fire!" You don't get this kind of down-on-the-farm wisdom growing up in a coastal elite bubble!

Superman finds Kandor smashed. Supergirl arrives ready to punch somebody in the face and blast them with her vagina. Some of you might be new to my reviews so I should remind you that there are around four thousand previous entries. I will occasionally refer back to that library of work. When doing so, I will probably confuse the new people and they might think, "Well, that was rude and sexist." I don't mind. It goes with the territory. But if I know there is at least one old school reader who remembers how often we saw Supergirl FWAAAASH an enemy with her exploding vagina, I'm content. Also, remember how Superman stole Supergirl's exploding vagina power? But he couldn't handle it and it always made him lose his powers for twenty-four hours? What a non-pussy. We get to see a little bit more of the moment Lois and Jon disappeared and while, last time, I thought, "Has Brainiac decided to become a giant robotic caterpillar?", this time I'm left thinking, "Holy fuck. Mister Mind kidnapped them?" Now, sure, Mister Mind is a little bitty caterpillar thing. But it seems maybe now he's a full grown humanoid who rides around in a robotic caterpillar mechazoid. I could be wrong but I'm probably not. I am a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader, after all. Plus, if I am wrong, I have a catalog of four thousand reviews to obfuscate and hide my failures. Nobody will remember this one! I mean, how many people remember how adamantly I proclaimed Harvest was Red Robin from the future who had been turned into a vampire? Like probably nobody, right? And, also, Harvest absolutely was Red Robin from the future who had been turned into a vampire. Rogol Zaar leads Superman and Supergirl back to Metropolis so they can have a big street battle. I guess Rogol Zaar wants to remind everybody of Doomsday as well. Rating: When a big name comic book writer is lured over to another company to shake things up, I always imagine the editors need to offer up something to sweeten the deal. Sure, Bendis was probably excited to take lead on Superman for a bit. Who wouldn't want to write Superman? I mean aside from all the writers who have written him whom you could tell weren't really interested in writing him. I would name some but you all remember how much I can't stand Scott Lobdell's writing. Editors: "Look. If you sign this contract, we'll let you bring Ambush Bug back into mainstream DC continuity." Bendis: "I was going to do that anyway." Editors: "You can have your own creator owned title! Just please fix Superman for us!" Bendis: "I can get that at Image any time. But I'll take that too. I just need a little more." Editors: "What if we let you change the entire history of Krypton's destruction?!" Bendis: "Wait. Weren't you expecting that from me? Look, guys, you really need to sweeten this deal before I let you suck my dick while fingering my asshole?" Editors: "You can kill Kandor!" Bendis: "Oh. OH. Oh yeah. Okay. Also, never mind the dick sucking because I just came in my pants so hard." That wasn't a standard comic book review rating but it's all I got. Sue me. But not for sexual harassment because you might win that lawsuit. Sue me for something frivolous and dumb that will immediately get thrown out of court, forcing you to pay for my lawyer's fees. Also my lawyer will be me so if you want to skip all the hassle, you can just cut me a check. P.S. Subscribe to the E!TACT Newsletter for more vulgarity and all ages fun!

[hellyes-tommccamus]

Mutant X [TV] (2001-2004)

S01E14 “Altered Ego”

[spoilers]

Sci-fi/action

Tom McCamus plays a main role in season 1

In a run down apartment, a New Mutant couple are discussing their powers. He can only destroy plants but her power is a lot more violent. She demonstrates it by touching him, and suddenly he becomes very angry and destroys the apartment. She finds this hilarious. What a mature and sensible individual. Then the GSA catch up with them. They capture him, but Shalimar jumps in and rescues her.

Adam clearly recognises the girl as Charlotte (Emily Hampshire). She says her whole life changed after she and her father met him, and there is something very fake about the way she smiles at him. They take her to the safe house, which she isn’t very happy about. She wants to join Mutant X but Adam is having none of it. And we’re only a few minutes in and I have to scream ahhh fake science! Adam waffles about her having a rare nucleotide sequence (OK) on strand 17 (nooo!) The writers of this show were clearly under the impression that DNA floats around in strands and chromosomes don’t exist.

Emma is background checking Charlotte and her father. We learn they worked together in the Biochemistry department at Stamford. We know Adam studied at Stamford so he must have worked there in between studying and starting at a Genomex. There’s a bit of a problem with the timeline here. From Whiter Shade of Pale, we know Adam started at Genomex more than 16 years ago. Charlotte was old enough to remember Adam from before this, yet she cannot be any older than 20.

Charlotte’s father was convicted of selling biological weapons according to underground website The Midnight Press (which if I recall correctly, had a real website back in the day). Apparently Adam turned him in and he killed himself before the trial. So Adam’s shady past clearly stretches further back than his time at Genomex.

Charlotte’s power is to manipulate moral polarity, and Emma thinks she can change people from good to bad and vice versa. It’s an interesting concept, especially in a show that attempts to deal with moral and ethical dilemmas and show that these things are not black and white. But, even at this point, a problem occurs. Moral polarity suggests that there is only good and bad, no in between.

Mason questions the captured New Mutant, Skeet (Rob Stephaniuk), as he demonstrates his plant killing powers. He explains that she hates Adam and that her power is to turn people bad - in New Mutants it lasts for a minute, but as he says in real people (ha!) it can last forever. So Emma’s assumption that she turn bad people good is incorrect. Charlotte turns good people bad and bad people worse, apparently.

Charlotte is sulky and angry that Adam won’t let her join the team, so she uses her power on Shalimar and Jesse and slips away while they are fighting.

Mason’s new second in command Lynch (Joseph Scoren) updates him on Charlotte and tells him he wants to recruit her. Mason agrees to this, but places the responsibility on Lynch. No prizes for guessing what will happen here.

Back in the lab, Shalimar is wearing the trusty Lab Underwear and being scanned. She’s worried she could have killed someone, and asks Adam what they are going to do about Charlotte. She even suggests stasis, which is a sensible idea for the more dangerous New Mutants. But Adam seems to feel that he owes Charlotte some kind of normal life, despite the dangerous combination of her power and irresponsible personality.

Emma and Brennan go to look for clues at Charlotte’s apartment. They find nothing but Emma gets a vision. They track her to a nearby rooftop. Charlotte tells them of how she was bullied terribly at school after what her father did and from the way she tells the story, she must have at least been a pre-teen if not older, I couldn’t see younger kids even understanding what had happened. Which makes the timeline issue even worse. The only way I can find to resolve it is if Adam had met with/worked with her father, an old friend from university, when he was working at Genomex. But that certainly isn’t mentioned.

Skeet leads his new GSA pals to her. Somehow. This show has a great history of people conveniently showing up places with no apparent reason. There is a fight and the GSA escape with both Skeet and Charlotte. Lynch seems to have some sort of power to draw out the breath in people’s bodies. We never seem to see lower GSA Agents who are anything other than martial artists or ferals (i.e. martial artists with glowing eyes). It would have been interesting to see more variety in powers in the background as well as in the guest casts.

Charlotte is angry with Skeet when she is thrown in a GSA cell with him. He tries to convince her that they want to get rid of Adam too. Lynch visits and supports that. He says Adam should have dealt with the matter between colleagues instead of going public. So selling biological weapons is no big deal, according to him? Also if this is true it breaks both the timeline and my proposed explanation to fix it.

Charlotte impresses Mason with a demonstration of her powers. Mason seems to be very calm and civil this episode, and even apologises for referring to non New Mutants as normal people. Charlotte tells him she only used it once on a non New Mutant and it seemed to last forever.

Charlotte calls Adam and tells him she escaped from Genomex and she needs help. Emma says something a bit silly. No-one escapes from Genomex. Oh yeah? So we’re just repeatedly seeing the exceptions, are we? Adam goes to meet her, despite Emma’s warnings. And what happens is so predictable. Charlotte cries and fakes some apologies. Then she gets him with her power.

Emma follows him anyway, and Charlotte knocks her out. Adam pretends Emma is having a bad reaction to Charlotte’s power and wants to do a neural resystemisation on her. I assume this to be some kind of science fiction lobotomy. It isn’t really clear why he wants to do this. John Shea really behaves like a over the top comic book villain for the rest of the episode, evil for the sake of being evil. (He played a much more believable villain as Lex Luthor in Lois & Clark).

Back at Genomex, Charlotte is all set to be a GS Agent but she’s actually having some doubts about what she did to Adam. But too late, she’s fitted with a sub-dermal governor and marched away. I do find the lax policies of the GSA to be quite surprising. I would think it would be sensible to immediately put governors on captured New Mutants.

Mason reveals another baffling bit of history that further breaks the timeline. Apparently he convinced Charlotte’s father to sell him his research. But this is research her father was doing at Stamford, not Genomex. So what, did Mason also work there? I can’t see how that fits, as Adam found out what Charlotte’s father was doing and turned him in, he doesn’t mention Mason being involved at all. Wouldn’t he have been implicated in the trial? I have to admit defeat and just say that this episode doesn’t make any sense. Quite a few of the episodes seem to have the same kinds of problems. Either there was no editing or the editors were too scared or apathetic to point out massive plot holes.

We do however see some nice new nighttime views of the outside of Sanctuary. Shalimar sees Adam’s evil villain routine. I think my reaction would have been to laugh and think he wasn’t being serious. But she’s scared and he follows her around Sanctuary in the dark until her shoots her with a dart, for some reason while duplicating his image on the 3D screen, for extra evil effect? He traps her and the boys in the dojo and taunts them. Then he puts the New Mutant database on a disc and leaves.

Emma manages to operate the touchscreen computer with her foot, which might have been believable if she wasn’t wearing stockings. But nonetheless she gets a random laser to help her escape (but why does Adam have this in his lab, easily accessible from a computer menu?)

Adam has changed the voice commands on his computers to Finnish, but conveniently Emma dated a foreign exchange student at school so is fluent. So she easily lets the others out.

Adam turns up at Genomex with a present for Mason. He offers him the New Mutant database. The way Mason always greets Adam cordially is interesting. Perhaps he knows that he would be an invaluable ally if he decided to return to Genomex. Adam makes it clear that he is returning to take over. He at least is honest. We see him work with his team but he’s clearly in charge there. Mason makes the claim that he is a team player, which is quite hilarious but the lie is probably his only option if he wants Adam on his side. But this turns out to be a pointless conversation as wants to take over, not work together. Adam electrocutes Mason with one of his subordinate’s gloves and grabs the control for Charlotte’s sub-dermal governor. Oddly he encounters no further trouble in breaking her out. He tells Charlotte his stupid and evil plan to sell his database to the highest bidder and somehow he wants her to help.

The rest of the Mutant X team catch up with them, but Adam sets a massive fire to a convenient fuel spill to scare Shalimar. Then he sprays Brennan with a conveniently placed water hose to stop him from using his powers.

In the end Charlotte proves that what Emma said about her ability was true. She turns Adam back to good, or at least back from crazy evil. Did she know she could do this the whole time?

Adam apologises to Charlotte and his team. And Charlotte finally admits it is her father she should be mad at. And everything is back to normal again.