DISCLAIMER: The Justice League of America characters are the property of DC Comics. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2005 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
Love's Rampant Fury
The storm raged, as if heaven itself wept for the lovers who would be together no more after this night.
"Oh, for goddesses' sake, just say it was raining, Kal. Does everything have to be sturm und drang with you?"
"This is my story, Diana. I'll tell it my way."
The storm raged higher, the lightning thundering down on the streets of Metropolis, as the city's most magnificent son--
"--Ahem. Hubris, lover? Remember thou art mortal--or something a little humble, anyway."
"Funny, Diana. And by the way, you'd make a great fool, you harpy. Why did I think I wanted to be with you?"
"Because you can pound all night and I won't break. Write. You're the big journalist. Hurry it up."
--as the city's most famous (Is that okay? Famous?) (Famous is acceptable.) son turned to his soul mate for the last time, his Kryptonian heart breaking into innumerable tiny pieces.
"It is not. I was heartbroken when Lois died."
"She wasn't. She practically begged me to take you off her hands. I wondered why she was cackling when I promised never to desert you. Damn witch."
"Don't talk about my beloved that way!"
"Just keep writing."
'Beloved,' Lois breathed into his mouth as he kissed her his final sweet goodbye. 'Never forget our love. Never forget how much we meant to each other.'
"Never forget how much
"He does not!"
"Kal, please. He has a butterfly-shaped birthmark on his butt just like Bruce did."
"How do you know what kind of birthmark Bruce had on his butt?"
"Everyone knew. Keep going with the story."
And the virtuous, beautiful Lois expired like a rose wilting in the hot desert sun. Leaving her beloved to share his life with the woman she had chosen for him. A woman she had selected never knowing the true blackness of her heart.
"It's not black. Charcoal gray maybe after a few days with you. But not black. Besides, hers wasn't much lighter. Making me promise to stay with you forever was a dirty, rotten trick. What the hell was I thinking? Yeah, that's right. Ignore me and write about her."
"Oh, I'm writing about you, lover."
A woman of such horrendous ill breeding, such utter lack of any social grace, that all the world would look at her and wonder what the saintly man saw in her. Perhaps they would think he was doing this to raise her up, to reform her. To draw her out of the muck and turn her into a being of light--a being like him.
"Or maybe they'll feel sorry for the poor woman because she's stuck with you!"
"If they're going to feel sorry for anyone, it's for me!"
"Don't try it."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"I'm telling you what not to do."
"That's it. I've had it with you."
"Feeling's mutual, Diana. Feeling's more than mutual."
"I can hold my breath longer than you can, Kal."
"Can <cough> not."
//My plan's working perfectly, Lois. They're absolutely horrible together.//
//They sure are.//
//Can you believe he's really strangling her?//
//He said he'd never kill. I guess there truly is a first time for everything.//
//Rut-roh, she's turning blue.//
//Nice Scooby impression, Bruce. You're really lightening up now that you're dead.//
//What can I say? You're a bad influence.//
//Do you think we'll get kicked out of heaven for enjoying this so much?//
Lois. We're saving the world from more of
//Good point. Wow, she's actually dead.//
//Um, Lois. Where did she go?//
//You two!! I should have known. Let's start this story over, shall we?//
It was a dark and stormy afterlife when two conniving lowlife swines met the Princess of Themyscira, newly arrived into the land of the dead and ready to kick some human butt.
//Oh, Batman, where is your strategy now?//
//That's good, Lois. But you're not going to distract me. You can't pin this all on him.//
//You look particularly fetching in that heavenly glow, Diana.//
//Do you think so, Bruce? I thought it was a little much but--hey, come back here, Lois, you little weasel!//
And so does end our tale of love and loss, promises kept and happiness forsaken, heaven found and paradise disturbed. All for the passion that is love's first blush--and ardor's fatal turn to rage.