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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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007.
THE TWINS.
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——

"Peter!"

Peter turned on his heels when he noticed his cousin rushing down the hall towards him, and he grinned when saw her.

Lois didn't hesitate to crash into him, swinging an arm around his waist and nearly knocking him over, and she laughed when he told her to slow down. She stood on her tip toes and scuffed up his hair — she was glad to be the older cousin, even if it was only by a eleven months. Peter had been close to getting into their year group, but his birthday had been slightly too late. He was only a month younger than Allison was.

"Don't do that—!" He smacked her hand away, "Quit it!"

"My hand slipped," she mocked him.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Peter tried to adjust his hair the best that he could. He turned to the two boys who had been with him at his locker before his cousin had invaded, to find them watching with amused — but quite questioning — smiles.

It was only then that Lois realised someone was there, and by someone, she meant two.

Was she seeing double?

Twins were supposed to look alike, that was the whole identical part, but she had never seen two people that looked so...the same. The boys were like carbon copies of each other, and even up close she found herself struggling to find any differences. When she had seen them down the hall on Peter's first day, she had assumed that the boys partially looked perfectly identical because she had been far away. But, as she stood there, Lois realised that the twins from the year below were definitely two of the same. She wondered if they noticed how much scrutiny she put into looking at them — Lois was desperate to win this game of spot the difference, even if it killed her doing so.

    "Oh—!" Peter realised that they weren't aquatinted, "Guys, this is my cousin: Lois," he gestured towards her with a wave of his hand and smiled. "Lo, these are—"

    "Ethan," one smiled, hand outstretched.

    The other twin winked, "Aiden."

   Lois quirked a brow, but chose to shake Ethan's hand. He had seemed more polite than forward, unlike his brother, whom stood looking at her with shiny eyes. It was as though he had just won the lottery and the prize was Lois.

"So," she hummed, "You're the twins, everyone's talking about."

By everyone, she had meant Lydia Martin.

After seeing them in the halls the morning prior, Lydia had made it very clear that she wanted one — her own words, no one else's. Lois figured that she meant Aiden; the straight one. Danny had already messaged her saying that one of the twins were cute, gay, and he was going to shoot his shot. She had cheered him on.

Ethan shrugged modestly, "I guess. You're friends that Scott kid, right? And the strange one?"

"That'd be me," Lois wasn't surprised by the strange one and knew that they were talking about Stiles. They weren't wrong, either. He was, in fact, very strange. "You guys been in Beacon Hills, long?"

"A couple of months," Aiden said. The two brothers glanced at one another and a sense of mischief was in their eyes, one that Lois had vaguely noticed but also decided not to comment on. She wasn't blind to it — as mischief ran in her blood — but she had only just met them, after all, and Aiden had instantly seemed like the mischievous kind, regardless what situation it was. "Our family moved here, before summer break."

"We bumped into Peter in the parking lot, yesterday." Added on Ethan, "He had a pretty sweet bike; turns out we were all the new kids."

"This is who you sat with at lunch, yesterday?" Turning to her cousin, whom nodded, Lois started to put the pieces together.

He had said that the two friends he had made were cool, which definitely applied to the twins adorned with biker jackets and sly grins, and he did mention something about bikes along the line. She wasn't sure when, but she was sure that he had. Or, maybe it was Scott who had mentioned bikes at the party... did he mention bikes? Did Scott even know about the twins? Her brain and all it's thoughts were suddenly muddled — Lois had no idea who had mentioned bikes, or if anyone had even mentioned it all. Brows furrowed, the girl soon got lost in thought.

"Lois?" Peter sang, "Hey, Lois—?"

Peter snapped his fingers and waved his hand in her face, and she jumped back when she felt his hand gently tapping her cheek, once or twice. Shaking her head, Lois hummed in question. All three or them were watching her and her face flushed red. The twins shared a look, although she hardly noticed in her daze.

"Sorry, sorry—!" She forced out a laugh and brushed her hair out of her face, shy and coy, "I got lost in thought, for a minute."

Her cousin rolled his eyes jokingly, "She does that, a lot."

They looked ready to say something until the bell rang, with the noise stopping them. Students started to rush through the halls in search of their next classes, and Lois peered down at her schedule for the year.

"Hey— I gotta get to class, but I'll see you later, yeah?" When Peter nodded his head, Lois pinched his cheek teasingly and let out a snicker when he whined. She then looked back at Ethan and Aiden, smiling politely, "Have a good day, boys!"

She waved while walking backwards, then span on her heel and carried on to class. Lois heard a light smack! from where she had just left the three, and tried to smother a laugh when Aiden let out a groan, asking why his new friend Peter had just shoved him into the lockers with seemingly no warning, or reason why. Ethan had laughed at their scuffle — he seemed to not care.

"Don't stare at my cousin like that, dude! Not cool!"

"Jeez—! Sorry, but she's—"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you."

While Peter wasn't intimidating, he still made a point of looking out for Lois. She was his cousin, practically his sister, and he didn't want his friends messing around with her.

Lois found it sweet.

Expectedly, Lois Lane showed up late to class.

Upon walking into e-con, she found that the class was already seated and that included Scott and Stiles. They watched her with raised brows, wondering where she had been, but she shook them off and instead put her attention on Finstock — he was staring at her with deathly eyes, though they didn't so much as faze her. If anything, his attempt of a death stare was amusing. She had never been afraid of the man, what with his hands on his hips and the lack of hair on his head, but for a moment she thought that he was about to blow his whistle at her. His hand reached for it like habit, slowly letting it go when he realised that he wasn't on the lacrosse field and using his whistle wasn't allowed in classes. She grinned.

"You're late, Lane!"

"I know," she shrugged, "But if you're going to give me lunch detention, coach— I already have three."

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Just sit down, would ya?"

Nodding, Lois made her way to the desk that had been left as vacant behind Stiles' own, the trio sat in an L shape, throwing her bag down and not bothering to grab a notepad and pen. Finstock never taught them much that was useful; she preferred observing.

"Where have you been?" Stiles turned in his seat, "You keep disappearing— could you maybe not do that, Lo? It's giving me this thing called anxiety."

"I was with Peter," Lois sassed, "Why? Is that okay, with you?"

Scott smothered a snicker, glancing at the pair and then at the front of the class again. He cleared his throat when coach huffed.

"Stilinski! Shut up!"

Said boy turned back and nodded, throwing him a thumbs up.

Finally beginning the class, Finstock grabbed a mug from his desk and looked at the students.

"The stock market is based on two principles," he walked his way between their desks and threw out his arms open, to insinuate that he wanted an answer for the question he was about to pose to them, "What are they?"

Scott's hand went up in the air.

"Yes, McCall— you can go to the bathroom." Coach brushed off, "Anybody else?"

"Uh— no, coach..." the boy shook his head, glancing around to see if there were any other hands up. When he saw no one else was dying to answer, he grew more certain. "I know the answer."

At this, Lois smiled. It was nice to see him so confident about his studies. He had never been the most academically inclined, and their chaos of sophomore year hadn't helped — the new changes in his life had made it even worse for him, and they all knew that his grades had slipped to way below average. Coach had told him that he needed to get his grades back up if he wanted to stay on the lacrosse team and keep his status at captain now Jackson had left, and Scott had done precisely that. Over summer, Scott had worked hard. Harder than he had ever done, and with the help of Lois, Stiles and Luna, he was on the way to passing PSATs.

But coach clearly hadn't expected to hear that from poor Scott McCall. So, instead, he laughed at the boy. Loudly.

"Oh—" he stilled when Scott didn't laugh, "—you're serious?"

"Yeah, it's risk and reward."

"Wow—! Okay, who are you? And what have you done with McCall?" He then shook his head, "Don't answer that, I like you better!"

Scott sat with a proud grin, making Lois laugh.

"Does anybody have a quarter? A quarter—?"

Stiles pushed a hand into his pocket and nodded, and eagerly yanked out a quarter. However, that was the only thing that he had managed to pull from his pockets. A tinfoil square, no bigger than his fist, went flying through the air and landed with a faint thwack! just in front of Finstock's shoe. It didn't take a genius to recognise what it was, and Lois snorted loudly when Stiles' cheeks glowed a neon pink. Oh god.

"Stilinski, I think you, uh—" Coach bent down and picked up the condom, handing it back awkwardly. "—you dropped this... and congratulations, I guess..."

Embarrassed, Stiles nodded and took the condom. He pushed it back into his pocket while Scott watched him a mixture of both amusement and disbelief. Of course, it was obvious that him and Luna got busy half the time they were together, but what shocked him most was the size of the condom, slapped on the packet.

XXL

Stiles shot a glare at Lois when she cackled and slapped a hand on his shoulder. He would never live it down.

"Risk and reward!" Going back to teaching, coach placed the mug down and then stood around a metre away, "Put the quarter in the mug, win the reward." Lois sat up, leaning forward with intrigue, and watched. "Okay? Now— watch coach."

The man knelt down and squinted, tongue past the side of his mouth, in full concentration. He flicked the quarter and it hit the ground, bouncing into the COACH RULES! goal.

"That's how you do it!" He cheered.

His students clapped, and for once Lois was actually impressed with the man. After walking back to the mug and taking out the quarter, he peered around the sea of teenagers with narrowed eyes as if deciding something very important. His line of sight focused upon Danny — his favourite, and best, goalie to have ever played for Beacon Hills — and he grinned. Coach passed him the quarter and leant his hands against his knees. He quirked a brow.

"Okay, Danny! Risk, or reward?"

Danny looked at him, "Well— what's the reward?"

"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."

Groaning softly, Lois sank down in her seat. There was a pop quiz tomorrow? They'd only been back at school, for one day!

"Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it..."

Coach stood back and blinked.

"Danny, y'know—" he took the quarter out of Danny's hands and scoffed at him, "I really expect more from you, at this point. Really..."

While Danny rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, coach eyed the class, again. "McCall—! Risk, or reward?"

"The risk: if you don't put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop— the, uh— the quiz." He continued to explain with another glare aimed in Danny's direction, "And... and you have to write an essay! Risk? More work. Reward? No work, at all." His words left Scott thinking, "Or, choose not to play!"

"But..." the omega thumbed the coin in his fingers, heavily in thought, until he frowned and looked back up at coach with a questioning expression on his face.

"...but, isn't this just chance?"

"No—!" Finstock denied wildly. Lois scoffed, knowing that his example of throwing a coin into a mug was definitely more chance than the topic that they were exploring, but everyone else was far too concentrated on what Scott's decision would be to have really noticed the absolute rubbish that Finstock said. "You know your abilities! Your coordination, your focus, your past experience... all factors affecting the outcome. So— what's it gonna be, McCall?More work, no work, or choose not to play?"

After a moment more, Scott placed the quater down.

"No play."

"Okay— who's next? Who wants the quarter?"

When no one else took the plunge, Lois raised her hand with a wicked grin. She was prepared to risk it. Either she lost and had to take the pop quiz that they would be taking anyway, whether she won or not, or she won and didn't have to do the pop quiz or the extra essay. The only real downside was the essay, but Lois had faith in her throwing capabilities — her small history in baseball had done her pretty well, in that aspect.

"Lois Lane!" Coach cheered, "I knew I had faith in you for a reason, kid!"

She slipped out from her desk and took the quarter from his hand, listening to the class clap their hands as she made for the front of the room. Lois threw the quarter into the air and caught it again, and wiggled in her spot. She really wanted to win.

"Remember — risk: essay and quiz! Reward: nothing!"

Lois nodded. She bent her knees and squinted at the mug. It wasn't too far of a distance, and she had shot arrows at betas and kanimas, so she had faith a non-moving target wouldn't be much more difficult.

With a breath, Lois threw the quarter into the air and watched it land into the mug, perfectly. She threw up her hands and grinned.

"We have a reward!" Coach yelled, "No quiz, for Lane!"

Lois was pretty satisfied with the result and mocked a bow as the students applauded her, picking up the quarter and tossing it back to Finstock as she returned to her desk. She high-hived Scott and Stiles on the way, a boy either side, and sat down with a very accomplished-looking smile adorning her pink lips. Now she didn't have to take the pop quiz that everyone else would have to; that meant no extra studying that night, so she could sleep at a normal time and catch up on the rest that her body needed. She wasn't sure why, but her body ached. Lois assumed that she hadn't slept as well as she had thought, despite over-sleeping. Another thing that confirmed her suspicions were the yawn that escaped her.

"Alright! Anyone else? Anyone gonna try and join Lane on the victory board?" Their teacher chanted, "Come on—!"

Stiles drummed his hands on the table and stood up.

"There ya go! There's a gambling man!" He waved the boy up to the front and Stiles did just that, and caught the quarter when Finstock threw it to him. "Come on, then! Step up— step up!"

Clapping along with the rest of their class, Lois and Scott both shared a humorous look as Stiles prepared himself to throw the quarter. He shook out his limbs like a golfer would, right before they were going to hit the ball with their club, and leaned down with his typical concentration face: lips puckered, squared out shoulders, and a single eye closed.

"Alright, Stilinski!"

He limbered up once more and nodded to himself in what they assumed to be determination. Stiles didn't want to take the pop quiz if Lois didn't have to.

"Stiles?"

Lois turned to where the door had opened, her lips parted.

"Yeah, coach—" Stiles said, "—I got it."

The boy readied his shot, but the voice didn't stop there. A twinge of concern in her eye, Lois glanced to Scott but he only looked as dumbfounded as she did. Neither of them had expected to see Noah Stilinski at the door, dressed in badge and gun.

"Stiles."

Judging by the shock on Stiles' face, he hadn't expected to see his father either.

——

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