8:

9 AM.

It's a slow news day. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to get little episodes of peace and quiet every once in a while. No super villains running amok. No devastating calamities. No city-wide destruction (or worldwide).

But gossip mills run overdrive.

Jimmy frowns at the television. "I can't believe this," he whispers. Ralph shrugs as he walks by us and goes inside Mr White's office. I stop midway in placing my puncher on my table to see what Jimmy's referring to.

"Look," he says eagerly, pointing to the screen. Jenny pauses from her typing and looks up. We both see what Jimmy was so worried about. Superman's lip-locking with that woman - okay, I don't dis other women. Girls should stick together. But really? In front of the whole, goddamn world?

Jenny's eyes widen. I shake my head. Wonder Woman's a goddess after all. A literal goddess in every sense of the world. It makes sense for her to end up with a modern god.

"Wow," Jenny says. She looks at me and sighs.

I grab my name plate from my desk hastily. They look good together. Too good, maybe. "He's an adult; he can take care of himself," I mutter, brushing the dirt off my name plate; pretending to be busy.

Not that Clark and I had really shared something special. I shouldn't be bothered. Hell, he's not even my ex for pity's sake! I'm - no - I was just his best friend. Me and Jimmy. Jimmy dejectedly sits on Clark's now abandoned chair. "I just... I mean, he's so different now. He's not like the Mr Kent that we met."

Jenny grins. "He's not exactly Clark only, Jimmy. He's Superman too, remember? Alpha male for alpha female."

I laugh. "Yeah. Don't be so worried." I glance back at the screen. Yuck. It's not that I'm jealous but such a public display of affection is really gross...

Most especially when you and your girlfriend are both revered public figures. People idolize them. Kids idolize them. They should be role models! Not be some rebel reality show stars who parade their affairs on television! Jimmy notices my face and laughs too. I try my best not to be so smug about it and force my eyebrows not to knot together. "See, they're compatible."

He sets his camera down on the clean, vacant desk Clark has since deserted. "I don't know, Miss Lane-"

"Just like what Jenny said," I continue, arranging my name plate neatly at the center of my table. "Alpha male for alpha female. Besides, we don't run Superman's love stories. That's tabloid thing, kid." I place my hands on my hips, raising an eyebrow at Jimmy.

Jenny nods while typing on her computer. Jimmy's still not convinced, but he did smile at my Perry White impersonation.

He thinks for a while and snickers, "I still ship Lois and Clark though. The great Daily Planet Expedition Team."

"Ha. Very funny. We're done exploring Louisiana, James Olsen." I roll my eyes at him and dispose of my storage box full of papers under my desk. It's good to see Clark finally going out. Kid has it bad when it comes to dating. He's not really assertive when it comes to women. And we only went out twice on a date, the other one I brought Lucy and Jon.

Jimmy's eyes widen. "So you two did explore Louisiana together?" A sparkle of mischief shone in his eyes.

I roll my eyes and throw one of my storage boxes at him. "We're partners on the city beat, in case you forgot."

Partners.

A long time ago, Clark and I were partners. Today, it seems like the Pacific Ocean is between the two of us.

It's time to clean our slates new. Maybe I should get moving with my life too. Take that editorial offer from the business section? Go to a vacation in Cuba? Maybe accept that post as a foreign correspondent in Qurac... Dad will be thrilled to see me there.

Nope.

I won't rest until lies are everywhere.

Not before exposing wherever hell Dr. Johnson crept out from.

"Dushnayev, huh?" Henderson echoes at the other end of the line. "Russian or Slavic. I'm going to have one of my boys check him up."

"Thanks, Officer."

"No worries, Miss Lane," he replies. "No correspondence yet from the Man of Steel. Again."

I sigh, tapping my pencil on my desk. "He's out there, somewhere."

"You okay?"

"Uhuh," I reply, searching on my computer for the Planet's database system archive on the Gotham story Perry had rigged me up with. "I've done falling off a 60-story building and got abducted by bald aliens, so maybe what I just found myself in last week is 'okay' in some sense."

Henderson laughs. "Never a dry humor on you, Lois Lane."

"Thanks, Henderson," I say, allowing myself to smile. "Call me for our Russian guy, alright?"

"I will." He hangs up. I replace the receiver and go back to my search.

"So," I whisper to myself, "You stole a prototype from Wayne Industries? Tough luck Batman's working overtime." Browsing through articles from three years ago, I come up with nothing to match The Harvest, or so what that meta-creature called himself. It's not a pretty scene and Batman has had a rough time with the petty villain escaping, leaving only a muddle of blue ink on the floor.

What kind of villain leaves blue ink on the floor? Okay, it's not ink but it some kind of substance that is not deadly but not pretty either. Well, Gotham has weirdoes for villains. Name a villain and they got it: A clown, his gun-wielding girlfriend, an elegantly dressed cat lady, a walking and talking penguin, a talking skull, and a mind-controlling gorilla among others. I don't know how come his name became Harvest.

On the other hand, even Metropolis has its fair share of weird…mostly from the alien kind.

After what seems an eternity of scrolling past archives, my eyes catch an interesting enough title: 'Gotham Scientist Invents World's First Vaporizer '. The article was written by Cosby, who has long since transferred to the Daily Star. Just the same, a scientist made a vaporizer that Wayne Industries bought. There's a picture of Dr. Michael Farrow and his colleague Dr. Gregory King beside the machine. Another picture below is that of Bruce Wayne in a gala, the article stating that he has plans of buying the equipment.

Wait. Dr. King strikes a familiar face.

I squint at the picture, trying to remember where I saw the same eyes, hairline, and drawn face. My journalistic senses go haywire. Somehow, something sinister is beneath all of this. That I am pretty sure of.

Night. Finally.

As I pack my notes and the story that Mr White wanted me to do a write-up on, Steve Lombard stops by my cubicle, without his football – that's a surprise.

"Hey Laneski," he starts, blocking my way out. "How about that Meteors Game on Friday? I've got another ticket to spare."

I roll my eyes at him, tucking today's newspaper roll in my arm. "Not really. I've got plans already." I grab my bag and push him away, walking out of my cubicle. He catches up with me.

"With whom, exactly? Caroll?" Steve cocks his head to the side, wearing an equally cocky grin.

"None of your business," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Steve frowns. "I get it. You're done with Kent's Louisiana and you'd give Carroll's Wonderland a try. How come you never gave me a single chance? I have Fields of Dreams! I can't wait forever you know."

"I'd rather not say my mind, because you'd surely be hurt that you'd be writing about fickle females for the Sunday magazine." Jimmy is packing up his camera and watching the exchange between Lombard and me. He chuckles. "And one thing, I have a boyfriend, Lombard. And another thing-" I poke his chest to emphasize my point. "Clark and I were just friends. Period."

"Fine, Lane," Steve says, annoyed. He stormed away to the other side of the bullpen. "You will regret this your whole life!"

Jimmy grins, busily arranging folders of pictures in his messenger bag. "Never lost the old battle gear, Miss Lane, haven't you?"

I laugh, swinging my bag on my shoulder. "Too busy and scary to find my prince charming."

The kid's eyes twinkle only for a brief moment he glances at me. "Surely you'll find him, Miss Lane, whoever he may be. Like CK once said – "

I sigh at Jimmy.

"Well…"

"No, it's okay."

"He said that there is someone for every person," Jimmy finishes. "You know, I really miss Mister Clark in the newsroom."

"We all miss him." I stop myself. Enough, Lois. Everything will be just fine. I look up to see Jimmy nodding. "You ready to go? I'll hitch you a ride."

"Gee, thanks, Miss Lane," Jimmy says, but then he pauses and stares at me curiously. I frown and turn an eyebrow up. The kid stammers, "Y-You're not wearing any contacts, are you?"

"Why?"

"Your eyes," he says pointing to them, "They're green."

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