A/N: hey all! It's been a while since I posted anything new, I know. Here's the thing, I love feedback, be it good, bad, or just plain silly. Let me know what you think!!

Gah! I couldn't for the life of me remember the name of the editor for the DP before Perry White, so I made one up…sorry guys, but lets just go with it, k?

And again, I imagine Jimmy Olsen to look like Adam Brody.

Another A/N: I own nothing, if I did, Lana would be written out entirely…or she would simply be better written. Chloe would have a slough of male admirers, who love her for her strength and her faults, Clark would tell Chloe his secret, and maybe he wouldn't feel so alone, and Lex, I reiterate, would alternately be naked and chained to my—I mean, A A bed, and dressed in a fuzzy man sized bunny-suit. The first is a fetish, the second is just funny. And Clark would mysteriously loose all his shirts. And possibly some pants...and now we know why I am in no way affiliated with the network, or the show. Damn.

Previously: "Oh!" Dona cried, as if he'd forgotten, "forgive me. Mr. Jimmy Olsen, meet Miss Chloe Sullivan."

I took a few steps forward, and leant to offer him my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said pleasantly, brushing a stray hair from my eyes.

He gave a little half-smile, and replied, "The pleasure's all mine."

Chapter 2: Stick With Me Kid

After Dona gave me a militaristic like briefing on what it meant to be a columnist for the DP, and an intern, he showed me to my desk.

I sighed in feigned bliss, "Oh, my very own cubicle!" my hands were clasped at my front, and I gave my very best impression of Lana's doe-eyes.

Jimmy chuckled from behind Dona. The editor turned to glare at him, and he hid it in a cough. Badly, but he tried. Ten points for effort.

Dona turned back to me, his face trying to be stern. "Are you saying you want something better?"

I hmmphed flippantly, waving my hand. "Your office is really nice…" I trailed off.

Dona laughed, "Not until your editor, little miss intern. You've still got a ways to go for that."

I sat myself down ecstatically in the high-backed rolling chair and perked, "Just wait Spacey. One day, you might just be handing the reigns over to me,"

He ruffled my hair with an exasperated sigh, and began to walk away, Jimmy trotting behind him obediently.

"Oh," he muttered silently, reaching down for the cell-phone at his waist. "Jimmy, go with Miss Sullivan. She'll show you the ropes." He turned to me then, flipping his phone open, "Sullivan, after you show him the basics, take him to the Photo-lab. They can show him the rest. You'll be done before that, so do me a favour, and take him to lunch? We've got nothing for him right now, so he can tag along with you----I trust you have a scoop?"

I tipped my imaginary fedora, "Of course boss."

"Good. She doesn't bite Jimmy. Miss Sullivan," he ended, taking his leave.

The boy looked a little peeved at being handed off like that, but he sauntered over. "So why are you Miss Sullivan, and I'm just Jimmy?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised. He sat down on the corner of the desk, and the light from the floor to ceiling windows caught his wavy chestnut hair.

I wondered what conditioner he used.

"Seniority. You'll get used to it. This place is cut-throat." I intoned, setting down my father's purloined brief-case. I leaned back in the roll-y chair, and threw him a smile. "But hey, ya got me. So don't worry about it. At least you've got something to do other than get coffee and donuts. That was my job for the last two summers. And even if I am a cub reporter, it's got to be better than that."

He sighed, and acceded my point. "True, true." He looked at his shoes for a moment, as if resigning himself to it all. "So, you've got big aspirations for this place?"

I laughed lowly, and nodded, reaching my hands behind my head and leaning back even further, "I'm gonna make it big. You can write that down." I advised him jokingly.

"Don't worry. It's not that hard. You'll do fine." I added.

His eyes glinted mischievously, and he grinned, "That old 'stick with me kid' bit?"

I shrugged. "Clichéd, but hopefully true."