DISTRIBUTION: Twisting the Hellmouth
SUMMARY: Anyanka meets an old friend of Clark Kent.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, UPN and their associates, as well as Warner brothers.
“He called me high maintenance.” Lana Lang grabbed the shot glass and tossed it back, ignoring the sting of Tequila. “Said I was too demanding and high strung!”
High strung didn’t begin to describe this woman, but a job was a job. Anya sighed and said, “Men usually try to blame you when they are hiding something.”
It was hard not to sound bored, but a thousand years of listening to a hundred thousand women describing the same five problems over and over again was enough to drive anyone insane.
And she’d always thought Vengeance was a glamorous job.
At least this one had an excellent fake driver’s license. Drunken women were easier to entice into making wishes.
“He’s all about secrets,” Lana said. “He thinks I don’t know, but he’s a horrible liar. There’s something weird about him…and it’s not just living down on a farm all his life.”
“Maybe he’s gay,” Anya said. Or maybe he could be.
Lana waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not that. He’s too laid back to be human, but then sometimes he gets this weird look in his eyes, like he’s in another world.”
“But he dumped you.” Long experience said to bring the conversation back on track. A woman who focused too much on the man’s good qualities was no good for vengeance. It was best to focus on his shortcomings.
“He thinks I try to boss him around.”
Given her whiny voice, Anya could sympathize with the nameless male she was going to curse. Listening to that voice for a lifetime would be a curse all its own.
“I’m too competitive,” Lana said.
“He doesn’t like strong women,” Anya replied. “He’d like to see us all back on the farm tending the pigs while he’s out drinking mead and wenching and…”
A flash of memory from her own time as a human, and then it was gone.
“I should be the one leaving him,” Lana said, gulping down another drink. “My family comes from money and his parents are just poor farmers.”
“It makes you wish his head would explode,” Anya said hopefully.
“If he thinks he’s had it bad with me, he should see what else is out there!” Lana shook her head. “You know what I wish? I wish Clark would end up with a woman who is even more demanding, bossy, competitive and high maintenance than I am.”
Anya’s face changed for a moment, with her true veined monstrosity of a face showing through.
Lana was too drunk to even notice the change.
It wasn't the exploding entrails she'd hoped for, but it would have to do.
Clark Kent fidgeted in front of the editor of the Daily Planet. He needed this job, and his work history was spotty, given his travels all over the globe over the past few years.
The editor was already shaking his head. “Kent…”
The door behind him flew open and a woman stepped through. “Chief, I think there’s a story here. We need to check this guy out!”
The woman babbled on, but Clark didn’t hear a single word. All he could do was stare, stunned.
The editor introduced her. “Mr. Kent, this is Lois Lane.”
She smiled dismissively at him, and then ignored him in favor of talking more about her story.
Clark Kent had been searching for something for his entire life, and now he knew what it was. This was the woman he was going to marry.
She was everything he could have wished for.