Fic: Endorsement | DCU/SR | Clark Kent/Lois Lane | PG | 1/1
Title: Endorsement
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,353
Summary: On the morning of November 4th, Clark answers the most important question of the election: Who would Superman vote for?
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: The idea for this started to seep into my brain at 6:30 this morning, while I was waiting in line to vote. Since I needed a good distraction from all the news coverage, here we are. :p This takes place in the Aftermath-verse, in which the president at the time was never named, though his description was awfully familiar...
Endorsement
It's still dark out when Clark slips out of bed to get ready to head out to the polls. He knows from experience that if he doesn't get out there now, he might never get the chance, and he's not sure he could handle another four years with the same policies as the current president if his own ballot isn't even cast. His mind turning back to the fallout from the New Krypton Incident as he showers and gets dressed for what's sure to be a long day, he can't help the lump of anxiety that forms in the pit of his stomach. No doubt, that'll be there until it's all said and done.
Kissing Lois goodbye for the morning when he passes her on his way out, he whispers with a smirk, "I wish you'd come with me. I could use a placeholder in line."
Swatting him on the arm, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, her hair still mussed from sleep and her pajamas rumpled. "You'll be fine, just get there early and stay put," she insists, keeping her own voice low to avoid waking Jason and Lara. They won't be up for another half hour at least. "I know you know how to turn that hearing off."
Clark chuckles quietly and drops another kiss on her forehead. "Promise you'll be there later?"
"As soon as the kids get up, like I told you. I've got until noon, at least, so no worries."
"We're lucky Perry likes us, aren't we?"
"Damn straight. Now go," she playfully shoves him toward the door.
Grinning as the lump in his belly eases a bit, he takes the hint and heads out.
* * * * *
His hands shoved into his pockets, Clark watches the line start to inch forward as the doors to the local high school are opened at six o'clock on the nose, and his stomach turns a little involuntary somersault. So far, so good. No major crises to attend to, no disasters, no terrorist attacks, no threats, not even a house fire or a cat stuck in a tree. It's a quiet morning. Especially out here, with anticipation thrumming in the air like a note struck on a piano wire, hundreds and thousands of heartbeats fluttering with their own excitement and anxiety. It's an amazing phenomenon that Clark has always been in awe of, and it gets his own blood rushing just knowing that he's a part of it.
With all that energy and enthusiasm surrounding him, he manages to tune out most of the political commentary blaring from televisions and radios throughout the city, but a few snippets manage to get through just as he's entering the building, setting his teeth momentarily on edge.
"...the most important endorsement of this election..."
"...can't vote, but if he could, just who..."
"...knows that he's never been fond of the current president, especially not after the New..."
"...opinion doesn't even matter, Superman can't vote..."
No, Superman can't vote. But Clark Kent can. And as sure as he was raised by hard-working, civic-minded parents, he'll perform that duty to his country, come hell or high water. He registered to vote the day he turned eighteen, re-registered the moment he moved to Metropolis, and has managed to vote in every election since ninety-six, minus the disastrous two thousand election and those regrettable years he spent on his fool's journey to find Krypton. Martha Kent certainly didn't raise any slouches.
The problem, though, is that the pundits have been speculating about Superman's opinion since the primaries, like maggots on a piece of meat, digging and chewing their way through to find the juiciest morsel. Officers in both campaigns have claimed to have the Man of Steel's endorsement, though neither presidential candidate will admit to it, and everyone and their mother seems to think they know who Superman would vote for come election day if he was an American citizen and not literally an alien. It's distracted the race so far from the issues that Clark has been feeling like he was getting in the way of the democratic process. Just a week ago he was this close to writing an op-ed piece detailing Superman's neutrality in political affairs, just to get everyone off his back and focused on more important matters.
Thankfully, Lois talked him back from that precipice; it would have only stirred the pot further, and that was the last thing he wanted.
No, if anything, he'd--
A sudden cry for help pierces his careful blocking out of the world, and he curses to himself. Not now. Please. I'm so close...
And he listens for a moment, trying to judge the severity of the situation. It's... it's a false alarm, thank God, just an encounter with a rat in an alley in Suicide Slum. He lets out a slow breath, and tries to bring his focus back to the here and now.
Just a few more minutes. He's only a dozen feet from the front of the line, the people around him growing more antsy as they get closer, already more than an hour and a half spent waiting. Soon. Soon...
A siren cuts through his concentration, loud and angry, and more silent cursing passes through his mind. He waits and listens... and it's a fire in Bakerline. A small grocery store...
"ID, please?"
Clark snaps backs to himself, and the realization that he's at the head of the line at last catches him completely off guard. "Oh! Yes..." he mutters, handing over his driver's license.
One voting official calls out his name as another finds it on their list and matches the address, "Clark Joseph Kent. 1938 Sullivan Lane."
He can't help beaming with pride at the announcement, and he accepts the voting ticket gladly, sliding his ID back into his wallet. A few quick steps to the next table, and he exchanges the ticket for one of the electronic voting cards, then moves to stand in line for a voting machine.
Taking a quick second, he checks the status of the fire in Bakerline, and hearing that it's well under control, he breathes a sigh of relief. Another minute or two to go, he just has to hang in there for that long.
But the woman ahead of him has a sudden problem with the machine. At first he can't tell if it's a language barrier, since her English seems to be quite broken, but then it becomes clear that it's a technical problem. His gut clenches, and he unwittingly holds his breath.
A moment of panic as the volunteers try to fix the problem, and--
It's fixed! Just a power surge, but everything's fine now. The woman casts her vote, and then, finally, it's his turn.
His heart thunders with adrenaline, and he wants to whoop with victory that he's made it all the way to the machine to cast his ballot. With a knot in his throat and butterflies dancing in his stomach, he steps behind the machine, inserts the card, and smiles crookedly at the screen before him.
Barack Obama -- D - _____
Joseph Biden
John McCain -- R --- _____
Sarah Palin
With a touch of his finger, Clark Kent makes his choice.
* * * * *
Outside the polling place, Clark emerges into full morning sunlight, the warmth of it soaking in immediately, and he can't help feeling like he could just take to the sky in triumph, his duty done, his conscience clear and free. He closes his eyes to drink in the light and the power it offers, his body tingling with it, but the sound of a throat clearing brings his attention back to Earth once again. His eyes immediately fall on his family, Lara bundled up in the stroller and Jason holding onto Lois's hand as they wait in the line that's grown out the door again and down at least another city block.
"You made it through, I see," Lois smirks at him, handing him a cup of still-hot coffee as he joins them. "Told you so."
"I did, and you definitely did," he smiles, before taking a long sip of his quad-shot espresso. Ah, but Lois knows exactly what he likes.
Pulling him down for a quick kiss, she teasingly whispers, "So, just who did Superman vote for?"
Clark chuckles and grins mischievously. "Alas, the world will never know."
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,353
Summary: On the morning of November 4th, Clark answers the most important question of the election: Who would Superman vote for?
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: The idea for this started to seep into my brain at 6:30 this morning, while I was waiting in line to vote. Since I needed a good distraction from all the news coverage, here we are. :p This takes place in the Aftermath-verse, in which the president at the time was never named, though his description was awfully familiar...
Endorsement
It's still dark out when Clark slips out of bed to get ready to head out to the polls. He knows from experience that if he doesn't get out there now, he might never get the chance, and he's not sure he could handle another four years with the same policies as the current president if his own ballot isn't even cast. His mind turning back to the fallout from the New Krypton Incident as he showers and gets dressed for what's sure to be a long day, he can't help the lump of anxiety that forms in the pit of his stomach. No doubt, that'll be there until it's all said and done.
Kissing Lois goodbye for the morning when he passes her on his way out, he whispers with a smirk, "I wish you'd come with me. I could use a placeholder in line."
Swatting him on the arm, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, her hair still mussed from sleep and her pajamas rumpled. "You'll be fine, just get there early and stay put," she insists, keeping her own voice low to avoid waking Jason and Lara. They won't be up for another half hour at least. "I know you know how to turn that hearing off."
Clark chuckles quietly and drops another kiss on her forehead. "Promise you'll be there later?"
"As soon as the kids get up, like I told you. I've got until noon, at least, so no worries."
"We're lucky Perry likes us, aren't we?"
"Damn straight. Now go," she playfully shoves him toward the door.
Grinning as the lump in his belly eases a bit, he takes the hint and heads out.
* * * * *
His hands shoved into his pockets, Clark watches the line start to inch forward as the doors to the local high school are opened at six o'clock on the nose, and his stomach turns a little involuntary somersault. So far, so good. No major crises to attend to, no disasters, no terrorist attacks, no threats, not even a house fire or a cat stuck in a tree. It's a quiet morning. Especially out here, with anticipation thrumming in the air like a note struck on a piano wire, hundreds and thousands of heartbeats fluttering with their own excitement and anxiety. It's an amazing phenomenon that Clark has always been in awe of, and it gets his own blood rushing just knowing that he's a part of it.
With all that energy and enthusiasm surrounding him, he manages to tune out most of the political commentary blaring from televisions and radios throughout the city, but a few snippets manage to get through just as he's entering the building, setting his teeth momentarily on edge.
"...the most important endorsement of this election..."
"...can't vote, but if he could, just who..."
"...knows that he's never been fond of the current president, especially not after the New..."
"...opinion doesn't even matter, Superman can't vote..."
No, Superman can't vote. But Clark Kent can. And as sure as he was raised by hard-working, civic-minded parents, he'll perform that duty to his country, come hell or high water. He registered to vote the day he turned eighteen, re-registered the moment he moved to Metropolis, and has managed to vote in every election since ninety-six, minus the disastrous two thousand election and those regrettable years he spent on his fool's journey to find Krypton. Martha Kent certainly didn't raise any slouches.
The problem, though, is that the pundits have been speculating about Superman's opinion since the primaries, like maggots on a piece of meat, digging and chewing their way through to find the juiciest morsel. Officers in both campaigns have claimed to have the Man of Steel's endorsement, though neither presidential candidate will admit to it, and everyone and their mother seems to think they know who Superman would vote for come election day if he was an American citizen and not literally an alien. It's distracted the race so far from the issues that Clark has been feeling like he was getting in the way of the democratic process. Just a week ago he was this close to writing an op-ed piece detailing Superman's neutrality in political affairs, just to get everyone off his back and focused on more important matters.
Thankfully, Lois talked him back from that precipice; it would have only stirred the pot further, and that was the last thing he wanted.
No, if anything, he'd--
A sudden cry for help pierces his careful blocking out of the world, and he curses to himself. Not now. Please. I'm so close...
And he listens for a moment, trying to judge the severity of the situation. It's... it's a false alarm, thank God, just an encounter with a rat in an alley in Suicide Slum. He lets out a slow breath, and tries to bring his focus back to the here and now.
Just a few more minutes. He's only a dozen feet from the front of the line, the people around him growing more antsy as they get closer, already more than an hour and a half spent waiting. Soon. Soon...
A siren cuts through his concentration, loud and angry, and more silent cursing passes through his mind. He waits and listens... and it's a fire in Bakerline. A small grocery store...
"ID, please?"
Clark snaps backs to himself, and the realization that he's at the head of the line at last catches him completely off guard. "Oh! Yes..." he mutters, handing over his driver's license.
One voting official calls out his name as another finds it on their list and matches the address, "Clark Joseph Kent. 1938 Sullivan Lane."
He can't help beaming with pride at the announcement, and he accepts the voting ticket gladly, sliding his ID back into his wallet. A few quick steps to the next table, and he exchanges the ticket for one of the electronic voting cards, then moves to stand in line for a voting machine.
Taking a quick second, he checks the status of the fire in Bakerline, and hearing that it's well under control, he breathes a sigh of relief. Another minute or two to go, he just has to hang in there for that long.
But the woman ahead of him has a sudden problem with the machine. At first he can't tell if it's a language barrier, since her English seems to be quite broken, but then it becomes clear that it's a technical problem. His gut clenches, and he unwittingly holds his breath.
A moment of panic as the volunteers try to fix the problem, and--
It's fixed! Just a power surge, but everything's fine now. The woman casts her vote, and then, finally, it's his turn.
His heart thunders with adrenaline, and he wants to whoop with victory that he's made it all the way to the machine to cast his ballot. With a knot in his throat and butterflies dancing in his stomach, he steps behind the machine, inserts the card, and smiles crookedly at the screen before him.
Barack Obama -- D - _____
Joseph Biden
John McCain -- R --- _____
Sarah Palin
With a touch of his finger, Clark Kent makes his choice.
* * * * *
Outside the polling place, Clark emerges into full morning sunlight, the warmth of it soaking in immediately, and he can't help feeling like he could just take to the sky in triumph, his duty done, his conscience clear and free. He closes his eyes to drink in the light and the power it offers, his body tingling with it, but the sound of a throat clearing brings his attention back to Earth once again. His eyes immediately fall on his family, Lara bundled up in the stroller and Jason holding onto Lois's hand as they wait in the line that's grown out the door again and down at least another city block.
"You made it through, I see," Lois smirks at him, handing him a cup of still-hot coffee as he joins them. "Told you so."
"I did, and you definitely did," he smiles, before taking a long sip of his quad-shot espresso. Ah, but Lois knows exactly what he likes.
Pulling him down for a quick kiss, she teasingly whispers, "So, just who did Superman vote for?"
Clark chuckles and grins mischievously. "Alas, the world will never know."
* * * * *