Spandex. It's what's for breakfast.
May. 15th, 2003 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperBecause dammit, just as I had to write a piece on what all the town gossips in their various incarnations through the community thought what was *really* going on with Clark and Lex, no matter what the truth really was (and I still can't believe no-one had written such a piece before), I had to write piece about the first time a clear picture of Superman was published/aired and Smallville went "What the fuck is Clark Kent doing flying around in a circus outfit?" (okay, so it's not all Smallville, just a couple of people, but the reaction is what I reckoned everyone would have) And seriously, comics people, do you think no-one would notice that knew Clark when he was a kid wouldn't recognise him as Superman, even if he had started wearing glasses? Feh. I'm going with the idea that someone cooked up recently in a story that the AI and Lex inserted something in the costume that projected an illusion, changing his looks subtly - blue eyes rather than green, wider jaw, slightly more prominent brow, slightly less impressive cheekbones. A resemblance but obviously not the same man if you got a decent look.
Spandex
The tv is on in the corner, happily babbling away to itself as Pete goes about his work as an assistant in the Mayor's office. Paperwork is boring, and he's not entirely sure it's absolutely necessary, but he's got to get it done before he can go home for the evening. Lana'll be waiting for him, having the freedom to shut up shop when she likes. Such are the benefits of running your own business.
The announcer says something about an article on Superman coming up in a couple of minutes, which piques Pete's interest; everyone's interested in this new guy on the scene, whose whole purpose seems to be flitting around and saving lives. Reminds him of Clark. That interview in The Daily Planet had him calling himself 'Basically a super-powered fireman'. It wasn't really an interview, more of a few snatched words with a reporter who managed to get on the scene of one of his rescues and corner him before he flew off.
When the article comes on, the first thing that Pete focusses on is the spandex that covers the well-developed chest filling the screen. While one part of his brain is chuckling at the concept of a grown man dressed as a circus performer, another catalogues the 'S' on the chest, which is showing very definite Smallville influences. The camera pans up to...
"No way. No. Way." All of Pete's desperately-suppressed fears have kicked in.
The phone rings, he reaches for it automatically, office-trained junior intern instincts kicking in. "Hello, Mayor's office, how can I help you?"
"Pete? Did you see?" It's Lana.
"Uh. Yeah." He replies, eyes still trained on the tv.
She starts giggling. "I can't believe - Clark?"
"...Spandex."
"Well, it explains some of the stuff that happened around him."
"Spandex. Clark's wearing spandex."
"Pete, you're a little stuck on that."
"Lana, my brain is still having problems processing."
"Do you think he just thought no-one from Smallville would be watching?"
"Guess so."
"He must be one of our local meteorite mutants and just hid it all these years."
"Uh-huh." He doesn't say anything about the truth of the situation. The camera pulls out a bit. Long, long period of silence on both ends. "Lana? Did you just see what I think I saw?"
"Clark is wearing underwear over his tights."
"Underwear. Spandex."
"Did Clark's bad fashion choices reduce you to one-word sentences in high school? I don't remember 'Flannel. Shirts.' at any time..."
Pete gets enough control over his larynx to mutter "I knew Luthor had to be kinky."
"What did you just say, Pete?" Lana asks.
"Um, nothing, Lana."
"You said *something*. What was it?"
"Was just trying to get my brain to process."
"Oh." He can practically hear her grin over the phone. "Do you suppose Lex knows? I think it'd be really hard to hide something like this from him."
"Lana, I refuse to talk about Luthors and spandex in the same conversation."
"I suppose he must." Lana muses. "Be really hard to keep something like that from your boyfriend."
"Lana! Stop with the spandex talk!" Pete pleads. "Look, I'm going to finish off the paperwork here so I can get home, and we can keep Luthor out of any conversation on why Clark's gone insane enough to parade around in spandex saving people. Out of the conversation. Out of it."
Lana chuckles. "I'll see you at home, then, Pete." She puts the phone down.
Pete takes one last glance at the tv before turning away from it and the pictures of Clark saving people, burying himself in the mound of paperwork by his elbow.
Spandex
The tv is on in the corner, happily babbling away to itself as Pete goes about his work as an assistant in the Mayor's office. Paperwork is boring, and he's not entirely sure it's absolutely necessary, but he's got to get it done before he can go home for the evening. Lana'll be waiting for him, having the freedom to shut up shop when she likes. Such are the benefits of running your own business.
The announcer says something about an article on Superman coming up in a couple of minutes, which piques Pete's interest; everyone's interested in this new guy on the scene, whose whole purpose seems to be flitting around and saving lives. Reminds him of Clark. That interview in The Daily Planet had him calling himself 'Basically a super-powered fireman'. It wasn't really an interview, more of a few snatched words with a reporter who managed to get on the scene of one of his rescues and corner him before he flew off.
When the article comes on, the first thing that Pete focusses on is the spandex that covers the well-developed chest filling the screen. While one part of his brain is chuckling at the concept of a grown man dressed as a circus performer, another catalogues the 'S' on the chest, which is showing very definite Smallville influences. The camera pans up to...
"No way. No. Way." All of Pete's desperately-suppressed fears have kicked in.
The phone rings, he reaches for it automatically, office-trained junior intern instincts kicking in. "Hello, Mayor's office, how can I help you?"
"Pete? Did you see?" It's Lana.
"Uh. Yeah." He replies, eyes still trained on the tv.
She starts giggling. "I can't believe - Clark?"
"...Spandex."
"Well, it explains some of the stuff that happened around him."
"Spandex. Clark's wearing spandex."
"Pete, you're a little stuck on that."
"Lana, my brain is still having problems processing."
"Do you think he just thought no-one from Smallville would be watching?"
"Guess so."
"He must be one of our local meteorite mutants and just hid it all these years."
"Uh-huh." He doesn't say anything about the truth of the situation. The camera pulls out a bit. Long, long period of silence on both ends. "Lana? Did you just see what I think I saw?"
"Clark is wearing underwear over his tights."
"Underwear. Spandex."
"Did Clark's bad fashion choices reduce you to one-word sentences in high school? I don't remember 'Flannel. Shirts.' at any time..."
Pete gets enough control over his larynx to mutter "I knew Luthor had to be kinky."
"What did you just say, Pete?" Lana asks.
"Um, nothing, Lana."
"You said *something*. What was it?"
"Was just trying to get my brain to process."
"Oh." He can practically hear her grin over the phone. "Do you suppose Lex knows? I think it'd be really hard to hide something like this from him."
"Lana, I refuse to talk about Luthors and spandex in the same conversation."
"I suppose he must." Lana muses. "Be really hard to keep something like that from your boyfriend."
"Lana! Stop with the spandex talk!" Pete pleads. "Look, I'm going to finish off the paperwork here so I can get home, and we can keep Luthor out of any conversation on why Clark's gone insane enough to parade around in spandex saving people. Out of the conversation. Out of it."
Lana chuckles. "I'll see you at home, then, Pete." She puts the phone down.
Pete takes one last glance at the tv before turning away from it and the pictures of Clark saving people, burying himself in the mound of paperwork by his elbow.
