Lois bustled down the wet streets of Boston. She muttered to herself as she had to pick up her petticoats to keep it from getting wet and muddy on the bottom. Why did women's clothes have to be so impractical? For her anyway. And Lucy had laced her stays so tight, she couldn't half breathe at her furious pace. Once she got to work, she was going to go straight to the back and loosen it up as best as she could.

In her hurry and attention to the wet ground, she collided with a man on the sidewalk. "Sorry," she said and then looked to see who it was that she had collided into. Her eyes lowered and she studied his black leather shoes, his blue woolen stockings, his yellow-brown breeches, and his red waistcoat, up to his smiling face and plumed hat. "Interesting choice of colors," she said mockingly.

He swept off his hat and bowed with grandeur. "Thank you, and I'm afraid I wasn't looking where I was going either."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm hoping you could help me?" he said, still smiling at her.

"I doubt it." She couldn't explain why she took an instant dislike to him because he was good-looking, but somehow she could tell he was trouble.

"I'm looking for the Weekly Gazette," he said, ignoring her refusal.

She felt her hairs bristle. So that was it. He was a writer. Perry was looking for an apprentice.

"I happen to be Mr. White's housekeeper. I guess you could follow me."

"It looks like it's lucky I bumped into you then. I was going the wrong direction."

"Very lucky," Lois echoed sarcastically.

"I'm new in town."

She didn't respond.

"I'm Kent. Clark Kent."

She still didn't respond.

"And you are?" he asked politely, not in the least bit deterred by her silence.

"Lois Lane," she answered.

They were silent until they reached the Weekly Star. It was the Whites' house, as well as a place of business. There was only a room and a kitchen downstairs. The room contained nothing, but a press, a desk, and a few candles. As soon as they entered, Lois put on her dust cap and stirred the fire. She also put another log on. It was a cold day in December. Perry was sitting at the desk. He hadn't looked up when they first entered because he had been feverishly writing.

"Who's he?" Perry finally asked Lois.

"He's looking for a job at a paper," Lois answered.

Perry looked at him again, "You look kind of old for an apprentice."

"I know."

"I couldn't pay you anything more than room and board."

"That's all I need right now."

"Have you had any experience in the trade?"

"I worked at Benjamin Franklin's press in Philadelphia for a little while."

Perry looked impressed, "I don't know why you'd want to work here then. Are you familiar with Louis Crabtree's work?"

He nodded eagerly, "Yes, sir. I have been an admirer of his work since I read his piece on the Boston Massacre. That's one of the reasons I want to work here so much. I'd love to meet him."

Mrs. White, a plump woman with lots of hair piled high on her head, stepped out of the kitchen and gave him a once over, "How do you feel about women?"

Clark blushed, "I beg your pardon, madam?"

"What my wife means," Perry said, "is do you work well with women? She and Lois often help out around here and some men have a problem with that."

He looked to Lois and Mrs. White and shook his head, "I don't have a problem with it at all."

"What if they wrote for the Weekly Gazette? Would you have a problem with it then?"

He paused. He wasn't sure. He had never really heard of a woman writing for a publication or wanting to for that matter. "I never really thought about it, but I guess not."

Both of the Whites seemed satisfied with his answer.

"Good," Perry said. "Meet Louis Crabtree," and he gestured toward Lois.

Lois was frowning at him and Perry. She ignored Clark's dumbstruck face and went over to Perry's desk. "I still say we don't need any help."

"With just the 2 of us, we're not getting very much done. It's either this or we become a biweekly publication," Perry said, sticking to his guns.

"How do we know we can even trust this hack not to spread it around that Louis is really a woman?" Lois demanded.

"He's got a nice face and an honest manner," Mrs. White spoke up.

"And it's a little late to turn back now wouldn't you say?" Perry told her.

Lois glared daggers at Clark and she was breathing heavily. She walked over to him and got in his face. "If you tell anyone who I really am, you will as good as wish you were dead and by the way, I'm Perry's partner, not his apprentice, so you take orders from me too." She put a cloth she'd been holding in his hand. "Dust the press off. I've got to go in the kitchen for a minute, so I can breathe. Don't even think about coming in there."

Clark was shell-shocked. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

TBC