I didn't have a hangover the next morning, and this seemed to disappoint Lois. I think she was waiting to give me a 'consequences of acting irresponsible' lecture. Been there, done that, bought the tee shirt. I'd had enough of those before I got out of junior high, long before I'd ever committed any irresponsible behavior to incur consequences. To make her happy and get her off my back, I did the big, dewy eyed, thoughtful bit. She looked suspicious. Good for her. I couldn't respect anyone who was taken in that easily by my bullshit.

Work wasn't exactly stimulating, but it wasn't aggravating, either. There were a few other lower level employees at the Daily Planet: copy boys and cub reporters, apprentices in the printing department, and I was invited to hang with them on breaks, and at lunch. It was all guys. After a few quiet, slightly awkward moment, I told them the story about Grandma's cat house. After several seconds of soda spraying, red faced, table pounding laughter, they started to treat me like one of the guys. I've now discovered that I have a fresh audience for almost every joke I've ever known, particularly if it's the least bit risque.

Not long before quitting time, Lois came over to 'my' desk. I hadn't seen much of her during the day. I always seemed to be leaving a room as she was entering, and vice versa. "Scribe, I'd forgotten that I have a late interview with a mayoral candidate. With his schedule, I had to make it for dinner. You'll have to spend the evening alone. If you don't want to cook, there are takeout menus on the refrigerator."

"No cash."

"Here." She rummaged in her purse, and handed me some money. It looked kind of like money from my world, just a little off. I reminded myself that the currency has changed over the last few decades. "Take a taxi home, you know the address. I may not be back till around midnight." She hesitated. "Don't go running around by yourself. You still don't know enough about this world to go off on your own."

"Yes, mother."

When she left, I swivelled in my chair, and grinned at Jimmy, sitting at the next desk. "Hey, Jimmy. Are you legal?"

He grinned back. "Depends on what you had in mind, sugar. I'm pretty much good to go for anything."

"Want to go grab a bite and something to drink after work?"

One eyebrow quirked up. "I thought she told you not to go wandering around."

"A, despite my joking reference, she is not my mother. B, she said don't go wandering around alone. If you come with me, I won't be alone, will I?"

His grin broadened. "What a delightfully twisted sense of logic you have, my dear. Yeah, I'll be glad to come. I won't have enough to stand you treat, though."

I waved this off. "Technically speaking, I'm asking you out. Besides, I know somewhere I can drinks for free. That is, as long as it wouldn't bother you to drink things with names like Fuzzy Navel." He burst out laughing.

We ended up having to work a little late, when copy for an article somehow got trashed, and had to be replaced. It was six-thirty by the time we reached Lavender's Green, and the place was open, but quiet.

Tinkerbelle wasn't on duty yet. Instead there was a cheerful girl who looked a lot like Betty Page, including impossibly high heels. She got us sandwiches from the kitchen, and they were pretty decent for a place that's mainly a watering hole and cruising hangout.

Toddy came on at seven, and he came over to the table to greet me. "Hi, Scribe. Glad to see you again. I wasn't sure Lois was going to let you out."

I rolled my eyes. "What is this? It's not like she's my legal guardian, or anything. You ready for another drink exchange?"

"You bet!" He whipped out a pen and notebook.

"One for me, and one for my friend, huh?" Toddy nodded. "Okay." I ticked off on my fingers. "For Jimmy, half ounce each of bourbon, Ammaretto, southern comfort and slow gin. Some triple sec, orange juice, pineapple juice over ice in a big glass."

"And that is?"

I smile demurely at my companion. "Well, if Jimmy drinks that, then he's had some Red Hot Loving."

Jimmy laughs while Toddy scribbles, "And for you?"

I consider. "Make me a Will Rodgers. Half ounce gin, half ounce vermouth, triple sec, and orange juice."

"Will Rodgers?"

"Drink enough of them, and you'll never meet a man you won't like."

"Oh, I'm gonna sell a lot of those."

The band showed up at about the same time our drinks arrived. The lead singer came over and greeted me. "Hey, it's the songbird. You sure did liven things up the other night. You got any more of those hot songs you could teach us?"

"I don't know how to write music."

"Shoot, we can fake like a sonuvabitch. If you can just sing it, and give us some idea of how the music sounds, we can crank out an approximation."

"Well..." The shoulder devil is whispering frantically, crawling up under my fuzzy curtain of hair to reach my ear. "There's one I love, and I know all the way through. If I taught it to you, could I sing lead on it one night?"

"Hell yes. I'm counting on it."

So I started to tell them about a certain Robert Palmer hit that had always grabbed me by the throat. I sang it for them a couple of times, and they started noodling with chords and riffs, feeling out the music. The drummer caught it right away. Oh, hell, yeah, it's the drums that drive this sort of song.

The main problem was the chorus. There was a line or two in there that sort of overlapped the main lyrics, and I hated to give up part of one to sing the other. I wanted the full effect. The singer solved the problem by beckoning over Betty Page and Tinkerbelle, who'd arrived a little earlier, and having a discussion with them. They greeted the idea with enthusiastic giggles and nods. Their part was easy, and they caught it quickly.

By now the place was filling up, and everyone had to get to work. But we figured that with one more practice session tomorrow afternoon, we'd be ready to present it on Saturday night.

I was back at the table, working on a Gin Sin (Toddy loved that one, too), when Lois came in. I considered crawling under the table as she stalked over to us. Jimmy looked sympathetic. "Want me to fake a seizure and see if that will distract her?"

"I think it would probably take an atomic bomb, but thanks for the thought. Hi Lois!," I said brightly. "So you got my note?"

She stood beside me, hands on hips, eyes shooting lavender sparks. "I didn't see any note. What are you doing here?"

"Charity work. Toddy needs more new drinks to help with business. I thought you were going to be out till midnight?"

"He had a family emergency of some sort. I think his kid ended up in the drunk tank."

Jimmy whistled. "Why aren't you at the precinct house finding out?"

"The police beat reporter will get it in, if it's true." Jimmy looked shocked. Lois Lane, turning down the chance at something that juicy? Lois kept her eyes fixed on me. "I called to check on you, and there was no answer. I go to the apartment, no sign. I figured I'd try here before I started calling hospitals."

"Lois, please sit down. I'm getting neck strain, looking up at you." She sat, glowering. "For heaven's sake, what are you so pissed about? I'm getting dinner with a friend. That's a lot better than eating alone."

She looks a bit abashed, as if conceding that she's overeacted. "Why didn't you go to the automat?"

"I like it here. It has a friendly atmosphere."

"I don't like you being here alone. There's no telling what you might get up to." She looked past me, frowning, and said, "Or what might get up to you."

A slender hand touched my arm, and I turned in my seat to see who it was. I found myself looking up at a tall woman dressed in a khaki WACS uniform. She had a smooth black pageboy, and her face was angular, exotic, and beautiful behind another pair of dorky glasses. She looked familiar, as so many of this universe's people did, but it took me a second to realize what it was. It would have been easier if she'd been wearing brief leather and studded armor. She was a dead ringer for the Lucy Lawless character, Xena.

"Hello, you're Scribe, right?" She offered her hand. "Diana Prince." Oh, no wonder the cultural reference. Yeah, she looked more like my mental image of Wonder Woman than Linda Carter had. Another 'glasses as disguise' schtict. I shook hands. She smiled at Lois, "Lois. Long time, no see."

"Diana." Frost dripped off the single word.

Without asking, she took an extra chair and drew it to our table, seating herself at the corner between Jimmy and me. she ignored the empty chair across from me. She smiled at me. "Lois and I go way back. She was our local contact for base news years ago. So, when did you get rid of Lana, Lois?"

"Lana and I parted amicably quite awhile ago."

"I'm not too surprised. Like they say, you can take the girl out of Smallville, but you can't take Smallville out of the girl." She gave me a very odd smile. "Don't get me wrong, I like vanilla. I just like it with a little spice."

Tinkerbelle wafted over to the table, "Scribe? Toddy want to know if you have any more drinks for him." She handed me his notebook and a pen. "Just write it down, and he'll send it over. He said if you'll do more than one, he'll make them up for your friends." She sort of bit off the word 'friends', looking archly at my companions.

"Sure, let's see what I can come up with. Lemme think, there's four of us..." I started scribbling, mumbling to myself.

Someone said, "Hey, she's getting ready to do drinks again!" When I finished writing and handed the notebook back to Tinkerbelle, a small crowd had gathered. "Okay, " I tried to shoo her away, suddenly wishing I'd picked a few less risque combinations. I'm not sure why, unless it was the stare that Diana Prince was giving me. I could almost feel the weight. "G'wan and take those to Toddy."

"What are they?" someone asked.

"Find out at the bar," I suggested.

Jimmy said, "Nah, tell us now, so I can decide which one I want."

"Gimme that back, I'll take it to him." I tried to grab the notebook, but she skipped who the fuck skipped these days? out of reach, and started reading.

"Gin and Cranberry/Cherry juice. That's a Cherry Picker." There were appreciative giggles, elbows were dug into sides. "Tequila gold, sweet-and-sour, triple sec, lime, 7Up... Seven up?"

"Clear lemon lime soft drink. Gimme." I snatched again, but missed.

Diana Prince looked amused. "What have you written down that you don't want us to hear? Are you trying to corrupt that girl?"

"...and cranberry juice, with a cherry. Golden Sexual Favor. Share the cherry with your 'friend'." Wild titters. I groaned. Why the hell had I put friend in quotation marks?

"Vodka, peach schnapps, cranberry juice and blue Curacao." Her voice dropped. "That's Foreplay."

"Sounds like it to me," someone joked.

"And last, but not least, we have..." as she read, her voice trailed off, and she blushed.

"What is it?" Several people in the crowd were asking curiously.

I made another frantic grab for the notebook. I was properly horrified when Diana Prince plucked it out of Tinkerbelle's hands. "That last one's no good! Let me scratch it out and put in a Dirty Girl Scout instead."

Diana adjusted her glasses and read, "Vodka, Ammaretto, Kahlua, and light cream." She paused, and her eyes flicked up toward me. She gave me a slow smile, like she'd just found out a secret about me. "A Screaming Orgasm." There was a soft plop as one very genteel looking lady collapsed before anyone around her could react. Then the crowd broke into a howl.

Diana handed the notebook back to Tinkerbelle, and the crowd followed her eagerly back to the bar. She pursed her lips, studying me closely. I hid behind my hair, but I'm pretty sure the glow from my blush was visible anyway. Why was I suddenly so embarrassed?

I suddenly felt a hand on my knee, under the table. "I think I'd like one of those," Diana purred. Her hand slid up farther along my thigh. "I bet you'd like one, too. Maybe we could have one together." Her hand started to slide to the inside.

I stood up so fast that my chair made a noise like a plane taking off. I said, very distinctly, "Gosh, would you look at the time? I think I'd better go home. Now. Bye." And I made for the door like Pearl Pureheart fleeing from Oilcan Harry.