Katie Martin walked down the halls of the CatCo empire; glasses perched atop her nose and bankers box in hand, smiling widely. This promotion was going to change her life, and she could hardly wait to start her first day as an official CatCo reporter. She had been so excited that she had prepared everything the night before. Going out specially to buy her very own reporters pad, setting out her favourite pink skirt, and getting up extra early to do her hair. Impressively turning her wild bed-head into soft blonde curls.
The job opening had been rather sudden; the previous girl having been fired unexpectedly. Something about a blog... And the other occupants of the floor had now been convinced that her office was bad luck, as the girl hadn't lasted much longer than a few months. But she didn't believe such superstitions. She was determined to enjoy herself and make the most of this new promotion.
She stopped in front of her new office, staring at the closed door. Her eyes drinking in every detail of the frame. The colour, the design, every little nick in the wood. It was hers. This was it. This was her end of working-girl moment. She held her head high, a bright smile on her face. She breathed in deeply; a contented sigh escaping her lips, as she reached for the door, her hand resting on the glistening golden metal of the doorknob, turning it slowly, and...
WHAM!
She let out a loud shriek as she quickly retracted her hands, using them as a shield against the avalanche of falling debris that had erupted from the now-open office door. Her bankers box; previously in her possession, being sacrificed, in favour of utilizing her appendages as protection; the box hitting the ground with a loud thud. What the hell?
She waited until it sounded as if the mass had settled before she looked to see what had come out of the door. She peaked her eyes open slowly, finding herself almost completely buried. Reaching out a hand, she delicately picked up one of the aforementioned items, running her fingers over the commodity. Are these flowers?
She stepped backwards out of the pile with some difficulty, shaking leaves from where some had gotten stuck in the straps of her heels, a few stray petals sticking in her hair. She cocked her head to the side and simply stared at the pile of herbage in various states of confusion and disbelief. There was indeed a large pile of flowers now blocking the entrance to her new office and cascading down the hallway. Where had they all come from? And how the hell had they all even fit into that tiny room? They must have been crammed to make them all fit.
It was then that she noticed a small, white strip of paper amongst the piles of petals. She reached down and delicately plucked it from the sea of flowers, running her fingers over the document. The parchment was thick and strong, like a high quality cartridge paper; and was folded over as if to make a card. Inside was written a single name; scrawled neatly across the centre in black cursive letters. Lena Luthor.
She blinked, staring down at the card dumbly, like her brain couldn't process those 2 simple words. There must have been some mistake. There was no way that she had just walked into her office to find the accommodation overflowing with flowers. And she certainly hadn't picked up a card that said they were from Lena Luthor.
This was all just a big mix up. The flowers were probably left over from the previous tenant, and had just never been cleaned out. Though who the hell keeps enough flowers to fill a small outlet mall?
Reaching for her forgotten bankers box; now filled with various petals and fallen leaves, she began rummaging for her cell phone. She was going to make a few calls to see about the removal of all of these flowers, and they would all be gone by morning.
Only, that is not what happened.
The next day, there was no pile of flowers going down the hall. There was no avalanche that fell on her when she opened the door. And all of the flowers that had been present yesterday had indeed been removed. But there, sitting directly in the middle of her desk, was a fresh bouquet; already potted and looking like they had just been plucked from the ground that morning.
She walked up to her desk, examining the new addition. The flowers sat in a small rounded vase of white glass, with green leaves artfully arranged so that they were spilling out the sides. The flowers themselves each had 5 petals of a light cream colour, with a yellow at the centre, the edges rounded softly. Holy crap, are these plumerias? They're super rare!
Beside the pot, atop her desk lay a simple slip of paper; much like the one she had seen yesterday, the writing done in a familiar cursive. Only a small edition had been added, and she stared, open mouthed, as she read the words.
Xo
~Lena Luthor
She blinked, skeptical at first, not believing her eyes. But it was all there, in black and white, clear as crystal. Lena Luthor had sent her flowers.
But how did the C.E.O. even know who she was? Ms. Luthor did have a habit of making those unannounced visits to CatCo in the past. But she was usually seen talking with some blonde chick. What was her name? Kiera? Maybe the Luthor had happened to pass by her on one of these trips and had seen her across the room. That might explain how Ms. Luthor had even know she existed, but that still left a very important question: Why was Lena Luthor sending her flowers?
And the flowers didn't stop coming. The next day, she arrived to a bouquet of carnations sitting on her chair, and the day after had seen a pot of violets on her floor. More than once she had called the delivery man to ask if he was sure the flowers were meant for her; but he had insisted that Ms. Luthor had been adamant about them being delivered specifically to this room. Who else could they possibly be for? And they just kept coming, day after day, until she had come to a realization. Lena Luthor had a crush on her.
At first she wasn't sure what to do with this information. It wasn't every day you found out that a famous C.E.O. of a multi billion-dollar company was crushing on you. And a Luthor at that. The Luthor's were bad news, and everyone knew it. It was an unspoken rule that everyone just stayed clear of them. And that's exactly what she planned to do. The Luthor would eventually lose interest, and the flowers would soon stop. She had no need to ever speak to Ms. Luthor, and she was content to leave it like that. She was going to keep her distance, and she was confident that soon, everything would go back to normal.
That is, until The Luthor showed up at the office.
It had started out like any other day. She got up, dressed, and ready for work; ignoring the mess of her apartment like she did every day. She had then delivered the post to the little old lady across the hall, whose mail always seemed to wind up at her place for some reason. She walked to her car and drove to Noonans, where she picked up her usual order of coffee and a multi-grain bagel, before going to work. It was here that things had started to change.
She walked into the building and towards the elevator that still carried the scent of a mans cologne, as always. The rug still had coffee stains from one of Ms. Grant's former assistants, who had nervously spilled Ms. Grant's latte on her first day; the poor girl having not lasted much longer than that. Upon arriving at her floor, she was met with a woman furiously trying to fix the photo-copier, while simultaneously trying to appear like she had everything under control, but failing miserably on both accounts. Ms. Grant had sauntered into the room from her private elevator, a pair of sunglasses perched atop her nose, and talking animatedly on the phone. And upon her arrival, a young man quickly opened a new tab on his computer to try and hide the fact that he had been playing Mario moments before. This was all normal.
But it was when she walked into her office; discarding her half-eaten bagel onto her desk and taking a large gulp of coffee, that she noticed something was off. She stared at the room curiously; like it had changed somehow, looking around suspiciously. And that's when she realized what was different. No flowers.
There were no new flowers in her office. She walked around her desk twice just to be sure, but there was nothing. No tulips, no lilies, no orchids. Not even those plumerias that the Luthor seemed so fond of, and had sent on more than one occasion. Nothing. She smiled.
So the Luthor had finally given up.
Today was shaping out to be a good day after all.
All in all, her morning had been productive. Snapper Carr had assigned her an article on Supergirl's latest act of heroism. She had gone out to the scene; collecting her statements, witnesses, and quotes, and had later returned to her office to get a head start on writing the article. If only Supergirl hadn't been so busy lately and had time for an interview.
Minor setbacks aside, the article was shaping out rather well, having made enormous progress. Everything was going smoothly and ahead of schedule. She even had time to run a few layouts for the cover of the next issue. And by the time noon came around, she resolved that she had earned her break, deciding to treat herself to some lunch.
The Starbucks down the street was surprisingly quiet for a Wednesday afternoon during lunch hour, but she wasn't complaining. She had glanced at the menu for half a second before ordering another coffee and a cranberry muffin, intending to bring them back to her office. She had struck up an idle conversation with the cute bartender boy; who must have been new as he seemed to be struggling with the coffee maker, as she waited patiently for her order. Though she wasn't in any particular rush to get back to work, she was starting to get hungry, and had opted to start eating her food on her way back to CatCo; taking a large bite just as she walked through the front doors of the building.
She nearly choked on her muffin, and had actually dropped her coffee; the cup hitting the ground with a loud splash as the liquid sloshed out the sides and onto the floor. Because there, standing at the front desk and wearing a long pink overcoat, was Lena Luthor. She never even got the chance to hope for a clean getaway; the racket having drawn the attention of the C.E.O. instantly. The Luthor had turned upon hearing the noise; looking for the source of the commotion, and was now staring right at her.
Now, she'd like to say that she handled the situation well. That she remained calm and collected. That she didn't lose her composure. That seeing the Luthor hadn't sent her into mild states of hysteria. But all things considered, she believed she did what any normal person would do when faced with this situation. She ran in the opposite direction.
BONUS
Lena Luthor walked casually into the lobby of CatCo; hands held in her pockets, and heels hitting the smooth marble flooring with a resounding click with every step she took. Kara had been so busy being Supergirl lately, that she hadn't had a chance to see the young reporter for several weeks, so she figured she'd surprise her at work.
She walked up to the front desk; waiting for someone to notice her, before a sharply dressed, attractive man with dark hair had approached her from behind the counter.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Luthor. What can I do for you today?" She smiled.
"Hello, I was just wondering if Kara Danvers was in today?" She asked casually. The man frowned.
"I'm sorry Ms. Luthor, but Ms. Danvers is no longer an employee here. She was fired several weeks ago and—"
SPLASH!
The man was cut off abruptly by a loud splash from behind her. The Luthor turned to see a young blonde haired girl standing in a large puddle of coffee; but looking like she had barely noticed. She stared at the C.E.O; looking for all the world like she had just seen a ghost, before letting out a high pitched squeak and running off in the opposite direction.
What was that all about?
The man sighed.
"I apologize, Ms. Luthor. I must deal with this." He said, picking up the phone and paging the custodian to come clean up the mess. A beat. She blinked.
"...did you say she was fired?"