Would You Still Love Me If...

“Would you still love me if I got fat?”

Oliver Queen looked up from the computer screen and over to Lois Lane, who lounged on the couch. Her feet were up, and he had a really clear view of her round, firm bottom.

“I’d love you, but I’d miss your girlish figure an awful lot.”

Lois grinned. “Would you love me if I had a drastic change in hormones and got all hairy?”

“Fat and hairy?” Oliver said, frowning and wondering where this was coming from. He went over to the couch, figuring Lois wanted some of his time and had resorted to weird questions to get it. He rarely had free time, so surfing the Ray-Ban website could wait. He had plenty of shades already. “I can handle the fat, but not the hair.”

“Really? I’m surprised. I would have figured you’d prefer hair to fat.”

“You accusing me of being shallow?”

“Not at all. I could shave the hair.”

Oliver snorted. “You’d have stubble. Hair would make you look manly.”

“And you’re too much of a manly-het-stud for that, huh?”

Oliver laughed and began massaging Lois’s feet. “You have big feet for a woman,” he commented, and then froze as he realized that many women were sensitive about such things. Lois took it all in stride.

“You have small hands for a man,” she said, shrugging and smiling sweetly. “I guess we’ve all got our faults, don’t we?”

“I don’t have little hands,” Oliver said defensively. “I have big, hairy, masculine, calloused man-hands, you best believe it.”

“Yes, you do,” Lois said.

“Would you love me if I was fat and hairy?”

“If you ever get hairy, I’m dumping you. What about me?”

“You’re already hairy, and I haven’t dumped you.”

“No, I mean, fat. What if I developed a beer gut?”

“You don’t drink beer. You drink wine. You drink a LOT of champagne.”

“What if I got a champagne gut?”

“Is there such a thing as a champagne gut?”

“There is now.”

Lois pulled her feet back and straddled Oliver’s lap. “I would love you even with a champagne gut. I’d even love you bald, like George Jefferson.”

“George wasn’t totally bald.”

“No, but he had that hair ring, and a mustache.”

“Would you love me with a mustache?”

Lois thought about it. “Nah, I’d make you shave.”

“But you’d still be my Weezy?”

“Hell yeah. Livin’ with you I’d be movin’ on up.”

“To the East side,” they began singing. “To a deluxe apartment in the sky…”

Lois and Oliver dissolved into laughter.

“What if my body went estrogen crazy and I grew boobies bigger than your boobies?”

“Oh, I’d SO dump you,” Lois said. “I couldn't have my man have bigger boobies than me.”

“You know what?” Oliver said.

“What?”

“Fat, hairy, big feet, whatever, I’d love you anyway.”

“Oh,” Lois crooned, “you know just what to say to a girl, don’t you, Georgie?”

“I like to think so, Weezy.”

“Let’s get some Jeffersons DVDs and eat peanut butter in bed.”

Oliver kissed Lois deeply. “Sounds like a plan.”