Diversions & Digressions | fanfiction by mara

Familiar Complaints

Familiar Complaints

by Mara

Summary: Two well-known women get a chance to discuss their significant others with someone who understands.

NOTES: No continuity whatsoever. Don’t bother trying. Idea from the DC
random pairing generator.


Lois drained the last of her beer and slammed the glass back on the
small wobbling table. “Oh, I’ve got one!”

“Let’s hear it,” Dinah said, waving at the waiterwho’d learned quickly
to respond when these two women beckoned.

“When Clark takes off his costume, he dumps it next to the laundry bin,
rather than in it.” She glared into her empty glass before smiling
sweetly at the waiter as he dove forward to put a new bottle down with a

Dinah rolled her eyes. “God, yes. Can’t tell you how many times I come
home to find bits of green clothing strewn on the floor inches away from
the laundry basket. He can hit a gun hand from blocks away, but the huge
laundry basket opening is too tough to find.”

“And, of course, they’re never the ones who do the damn laundry, are they?”

“Hell, no.” Dinah took a slug of beer. “It’s always, ‘Honey, I was up
for two days tracking down that serial killer. Do you think you could
take care of it just this once?'”

“Right! Like we didn’t just spend the same two days on a stakeout trying
to catch a politician on the take!”

“Or in Burma busting up a drug ring, coming back in the luggage
compartment of some smelly airplane!”

Their voices rose. The night managerwho’d just come on dutyturned to say
something to them, but she was stopped by two waiters who grabbed her
arm, whispering furiously into her ears. She stopped in her tracks,
looking depressed, and went into her office instead, shutting the door
with a slam.

Neither Lois nor Dinah noticed.

“And cooking,” Lois said, “that’s almost the last straw. He can cook ten
times better, but somehow I’m the one scrounging in the kitchen and then
giving up and ordering Chinese.”

Dinah nodded sagely. “You bet. Except with mine there’s that damn chili.
I’ll never eat chili again, I swear.”

“Oooh,” Lois said with a shudder, “I’ve heard stories about the chili.”

“How about this?” Dinah refilled her glass, waving it so that the liquid
came precariously close to spilling. “Arrows abso-frickin-everywhere.
And when he gets bored, he does target practice wherever the hell he is.
Gotta keep a permanent stock of joint compound to fill the holes. Beat
that, babe.”

Lois laughed, taking another swig of beer. “Two words for you: Heat.


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