Introducing Hope
Hope Kramer was under no illusions about how she was perceived by others. She thought they were idiots and they thought she was an asshole. All in all, Hope thought it worked out quite nicely as both groups held a mutual nonverbal agreement to leave each other alone.
It was part of why she made a living via a field where very little interaction with others was required. She'd done it deliberately. When she was forced into contact with the rest of humanity, Hope tended to swear. A lot. (To her credit, she did try to do it under her breath so none could hear. Though sometimes she was more successful than others.) It wasn't good for her health (either mental or physical).
Due to a glowing review from a former employer which spelled out what excellent service Hope could perform, as long as she was left alone, (The recommendation had actually used much more flowery language expounding on how all she'd been given was an overall goal and Hope had done the rest with very little supervision required. It amounted to the same thing.) she'd been able to work up to her current employment for The Daily Planet at double her previous salary.
She just hadn't realized that she would be the I.T. specialist for the whole damn building!
Which brought her to her first day at her new job, where right after Human Resources had finished filing paperwork, Hope had been directed to the editor-in-chief. It had gone something like this:
"You're the new tech?"
"Yes sir. I'm Hope Kramer."
"My name is Perry White. All your paperwork has been filled out?"
"Yes sir. I just finished."
"Good. Your first assignment is to fix Lois Lane's printer."
It started out innocently enough. She was yelling (quietly) at cords that went to nowhere and generally having an actually nice conversation with one of her new coworkers. Which in and of itself was an amazing occasion to call home about! He actually seemed to sincerely want to help and gave non-moronic comments (at least so far) when she peeked her head out from under Ms. Lane's desk to introduce herself.
He sat in the rolling chair that belonged to the cubicle next to Ms. Lane's. His hair was black in a professional-casual style that covered the tops of his ears. He wore thick black-rimmed glasses, in a rounded-square that were large enough to touch his cheeks and eyebrows. They shaded his eyes so well that it took her several heartbeats to realize his eyes were blue. But it wasn't his hair or glasses or eyes that made her pause.
It was his smile. That was a smile to weaken a girl's knees! Dimples on both sides, a small cleft chin, but it was real. It reached his eyes, crinkling the skin around them.
Hoping to hide exactly how flustered that smile made her, she pushed back under the desk before she remembered that he'd asked her name. She tried desperately to refocus upon the task at hand, devoting most of her brainpower to finding where cords went and led. (While a piece of her mind was expounding on how might his lips taste.) The rest of her decided to answer her coworker as she would her brother. As if he had a brain and could be useful if directly properly. (If she saw him as her brother, that would mean he wasn't kissable. Shouldn't kiss your coworkers!)
However, waaay too soon for her thought processes, she'd theoretically fixed the cords and needed to get back out from under the desk. Facing the man that she absolutely wasn't going to kiss. She wasn't. Nope. Nada.
"Clark Kent," he introduced with that smile.
She grabbed his hand automatically to shake as per etiquette, and felt an electric spark. "Hope Kramer." She was quite proud of herself that her voice didn't waver or change. She also dropped his hand like a hot wire as soon as was deemed acceptable. That smile could be a secret weapon!
"Out of curiosity, do you always swear so much?" he asked, amused.
Her eyes flicked to him in abject surprise. It was her first day. She'd made sure that her comments wouldn't be heard. Otherwise her first day would also coincide with her last. Or…she thought she had. "You heard that? Sorry." No blushing. That was cliché. "I try to make sure it's a low enough volume so no one hears me. It's a way to vent frustration. Otherwise, I tend to start doing things better left to the imagination." Had her grammar diminished? Seriously? All she needed was a nice smile and her elocution went out the window? That was just sad.
"Such as?"
"Erasing someone's identity because they put a credit card in their disk drive. Uploading a virus to forever make a computer slower than an eight-and-a-half inch floppy. Cramming peanut butter into their air vent because they wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Printing 72-point font signs labelling everything 'do not attempt to fix yourself' in capital letters. You know, the classics."
He couldn't help himself; he laughed.
Good God in Heaven! That laugh should be illegal! It was genuine. That was what she liked so much about it. She dealt with idiots and fakes so much that his lack of either was refreshing. She smiled back at him, trying not to blush or stammer or any other horrible clichés. "Mrs. Lane should be able to print now. Please don't attempt to fix it yourselves if it still doesn't work."
He chuckled lightly, not offended at her reminder. Instead, he made a joke. "How about turning it off and back on again?"
"Only if you want to push your luck, Mr. Kent." She had to leave quickly or she would make a fool out of herself, she knew it!
"Clark," he corrected. All she did was nod and turn right-way around. When she finally made it around a corner, she had to stop at a near wall and get her breath. That grin and accompanying laughter still echoing behind her eyes.
Hope made a resolve to stay away from one Clark Kent as much as possible. Otherwise, she might get a citation submitted to Human Resources for sexual harassment…
One Month Later
Hope frowned at the picture of Superman in the Daily Planet headline. It was a three-quarter full-body shot. The angle wide enough to get his cape flowing in the breeze, his levitation obvious in the angle of his feet.
Something about it bothered her…but she couldn't put her finger on why.
Before she could do much more than mentally note the occurrence and start to attempt to pinpoint the source, her phone rang. "I.T." she answered.
"Kramer!" the voice of Perry White came over the line, "Lane's printer is out again!"
Hope groaned low in her throat. "Yes sir, I'll be right up." Would that woman ever listen to her on what NOT to do?
The Next Month
Hope stared at the photograph. It was a byline, barely more than a blurb really. Superman was smiling at the camera. It wasn't a genuine smile. She didn't blame him. Apparently, the photographer had pulled a paparazzi while the guy was working with homeless kids.
Six Weeks After That
This one was a three-quarter head-shot. Superman was looking over the last of the cleaned up remains of his fight with General Zod. It was finally all done, which was what the article had centered on (that and how Superman had helped to clean up the mess he'd help create).
The photographer had managed to wait and got a glimpse of a real smile on the alien's face. She could see the crinkles at the corner of his eye as he surveyed the finished rebuilds.
She frowned at the photograph. Something about it…
Looking back at the other photographs of Superman she'd noted as being odd, she noticed they were all by the same guy. Jimmy Olsen. Maybe she should talk to him…
Then she looked closer, realized what she was seeing, and began to curse. "Bloody, stupid, fucking hell! You moron!" Taking quick action, Hope began to type a strongly worded email to a distinct individual.
To: CKent
From: Resinded You_
Heading: NSFW – Did You Think No One Would Notice?!
Dear Idiot,
Seriously, did you think no one would notice?! That has got to be the most IDIOTIC disguise I've ever seen! How could you think that parting your hair differently and wearing glasses would be enough to throw people off?!
Since Superman is obviously the more showy of your two identities, Clark Kent is easier to manipulate with the least amount of suspicion. Thus, consider the following to better your disguise:
I) Clothes
Wear baggier clothes. Clothes that do NOT highlight your obvious muscles, which are clearly defined in the Superman costume. I'd suggest at least two sizes too large for your frame. But fitted to your arm length and ankles so as not to get too much notice. Again, goal is to fade into the background and differentiate your frame from Superman's.
Also, get pads for your shirts to offset how wide your shoulders really are. You can show off Clark as wider shoulders
You also want to pick colors that are dingy, dirty, and just plain drab. Browns, tans, grays. Black goes well with your hair, so stay away from that. The intent being to NOT draw attention. Stay away from strong colors, even if they do compliment your eyes. That's not the point. Compliment your eyes when you're on a date, not when at work around NOSY REPORTERS, youIDIOT!
II) Glasses
Get better disguise glasses. The ones you've got are nice for your bone structure. They highlight your eyes well. You need bulky frames that shade your eyes, as they are a very distinguishing feature. Save the glasses you've currently got for date night, not around NOSY REPORTERS, youIDIOT!
III) Tattoos
One thought I had was for a temp tattoo on an inside wrist or 'hidden' at the neckline that Clark could wear. Easily removed for fast transition, if need be, but since no one would think of it being so fast removed, it'd help. Being the Fastest Man Alive, I think that would be easy for you, but every little bit helps. That, and as long as the light doesn't hit it just right, most people take temp tattoos as real ones, if seen from a distance. Superman, obviously, can't wear one, but Kent could.
Conclusion:
Most people only see what they expect to see. However, you are surrounded by NOSY REPORTERS, youIDIOT! Including that you WORK WITH ONE DAILY! The nosiest, actually. It won't be long that she figures it out, if she hasn't already. She's good at her job.
If you want to remain as anonymous as possible, then please consider my suggestions.
Sincerely Concerned for Your Ability to Reason,
Hoping You Aren't an Idiot and It's Only Temporary Insanity
Please be kind. I know it's not perfect. However, this chapter is owed to my reviewers. So more reviews is more love and makes me write faster.