Hopeful Idiot
Emails
Clark blinked at the email sitting innocently in his work inbox. He read the subject line twice, wondering, before giving up and turning to his desk partner, "Lois, what does N.S.F.W. mean?"
She looked over at him, needing a couple seconds to switch mental gears. Then she grinned broadly. "Not Safe For Work. You got a girlfriend?" Her voice was friendly with a touch of suggestive. It still made the innocent farm boy flush. She eagerly hoped from her chair and rounded to peer over his shoulder at his computer screen. "Huh. 'Did you think no one would notice'? Odd for a subject line. Do you recognize the sender?" Her reporter senses were tingling, eyes narrowing in focus.
"No, but I don't think 'Rescinded at You Moron dot e.d.u.' is a real email address."
"You never know," she shrugged. "It could be a new anonymous source, trying to get your attention." Anonymous sources were common to two types of people: police and reporters. Both required them to do their job effectively. "Click it. Let's see what it says."
Obediently, Clark tried. Instead of the expected email, a popup box appeared. Highlighted in large bold red letters were the words
TARGET EMAIL CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE
ONLY AVAILABLE AT SECURED I.P. ADDRESS
"Huh," Lois tilted her head as she contemplated the popup. "Well, that's a new one." She leaned so that she could peer into his eyes without shifting her position, meaning her eyes were less than six inches from his own. "If this is a new A.S., he's tech-savvy."
Clark was understandably flustered at his partner's nearness. "Yeah!" he practically squeaked, scooting his chair backward hastily. Lois was quite beautiful, and he was a male with a healthy sex drive. (The fact he wasn't human was beside the point, as he had grown up around humans and adopted the human standard of beauty as his own. That, and he had no idea what the Kryptonian standard of beauty or desirability could be.)
She flashed a smirk at his discomfort, as if it were good fun, then went back to her desk. "You can try on your home computer. If that doesn't work, I'd call that…woman," she hissed the word as if it were a curse, "down in I.T."
"Good idea, Lois. I'll do that," he quickly assured her. An angry Lois wasn't pleasant to be around and the workday had just started.
Lois' grin at his obvious unease at her nearness made him think of 'that woman's comment. "She's a terrible friend. Everything is always about her." That smirk suggested she enjoyed embarrassing him… Was it malicious?
While he understood that Lois knew the appropriate social rules and boundaries, she approached their use as a sniper would a bullet: a tool to eliminate a target. Though she usually pretended to care better during work hours, or with friends, her general personality relaxed around Clark, thus showing how little social constructs bothered her.
Clark sighed, pushing his musings to the side. He had work to do right now.
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Later that day, Clark pulled up his email on his personal home computer and clicked on the offending email. He began to read, "Dear Idiot…" He blinked, startled. He kept reading. "Seriously, did you think no one would notice." He muttered the sentences without retaining the emphasis of the exclamation marks. He still understood. "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?"
He scrolled down and surged forward in his seat as his mind fully registered the picture that was attached below the paragraph. It was two images, one of Superman and the other Clark Kent. Both were taken at the same 3-quarter angle, and several areas had been circled and connected to each picture. Showing the perfect correlation. "Good God," he breathed. He thought his mother would forgive his blasphemy in this instance.
He scrolled down again, dread in the pit of his stomach. However, instead of threats of money or blackmail or anything else that his mind conjured in the two seconds it took to turn the wheel, there were suggestions on how to make his disguise better. Well, his Clark Kent disguise better. Even going so far as to explain the logic behind each suggestion.
He blinked again as the salutation tied in with the signature section.
As long as he ignored the foul language, expletives, and various grammatical email yelling, it was actually very helpful. Thoughtful. Kind, even. It seemed rather genuine, caring whether he continued his work as Superman.
So, after a brief internal debate, he began to compose a reply.
Dear Hope,
Thank you for sending me your thoughtful suggestions. While a tattoo would be impractical at this stage, as Clark must change into Superman at inhuman speeds, I greatly appreciate your other ideas. Do you have any more?
I would also like to ask about any suggestions you may have regarding my partner. So far, she seems rather oblivious to what you say is obvious. Are you sure that the connection you have made is as clear as you think? What are the chances of others making this same correlation? I recognize the pictures you used for your demonstration. Each was printed in different editions, months apart. Did you save each edition of The Daily Planet for reference? Or perhaps you noticed the similarities by happenstance?
I am not saying you do not have a point, but the method by which you acquired this information could be significant.
Also, how secure is this reply method? Perhaps we should meet in person to discuss this incredibly sensitive information.
Sincerely,
The Idiot
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Hope blinked at the email waiting for her the morning after she sent the rather scathing diatribe on Superman/Clark's choices of disguise. She did have a brief pause of panic at his salutation, but then remembered how she had signed her own. He didn't know who she was, he was just using a one-word condensed form.
"Well, he got the signature right," she muttered as she began again.
(I am not calling you 'dear' anything.)
Idiot,
You're a moron. You actually REPLIED without knowing if it was a secure email? Are you out of your mind? Seriously, I'd like to know if the supposed "american hero" is bat-shit insane. I think that's a significant detail. (Of course, one could make the argument that anyone who goes into burning buildings without regard to his own life is, in fact, crazy.)
Yes, this email is secure. If anyone cracked this code, then a lovely little virus would be left in their system, which would increase the threshold for fan temperature. Resulting in a 'spontaneous' meltdown from overheating. Then just look for whatever agency bought a new supercomputer (for it would TAKE a supercomputer to crack my firewall. No, I'm not being arrogant.)
As for the pictures. Do you really want to take the chance that I only noticed via coincidence? Really? How dumb are you? You went to all the trouble to hide Clark Kent, so obviously that means you care about having a social life to some degree. Who would want to be Superman all the time?
Personally, if you truly want my REAL advice, I'd tell you to scrap Kent entirely and start from scratch with a new identity. One with a wig, moles, birthmarks, and all sorts of other things that would make it highly unlikely to connect the two. And get a different job. Reporters are NOSEY, by profession and passion.
However, I highly doubt you'll be willing to go that far with hiding your human identity. So, my previous emailed comments stand. As for the tattoo being impractical…oh well. At least you were smart enough to consider it, then discard it for logical reasons. Congrats you get ONE brainy point. To earn more, please use that thing between your ears more often.
Oh, and I don't appreciate you denigrating my own intelligence. It's YOUR idiocy on trial here, not mine!
Sincerely Are You Going To Continue Being A Moron,
Hoping Not
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Dear Hoping,
How did I denigrate your intelligence?
Idiot
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Idiot,
You suggested that I would meet you in person, you moron. You are LITERALLY faster than a speeding bullet and you're called the Man of Steel (how many pairs of pants did you go through during puberty? ;-P ). Why would I get within touching distance of you? In fact, why would I tell you what STATE I live in?
Hope
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Dear Hope,
Ahhh, I understand your reasoning now. Sorry. It wasn't my intention. I truly was worried about the safety of the emails. In person, I could be better assured of our correspondence. My hearing is extremely sensitive. I am able to hear any heartbeat within a mile, well beyond the range of any parabolic microphone.
And you live in Metropolis. Why else would you be so interested in me? Or have access to Daily Planet photos so readily. Metropolis is the city in which I do the most "american hero" work. Q.E.D.
My mother would like you to know that I went through 6 pairs of pants during puberty. She is very practical and instead of buying new jeans every week, she got extremely good at repairing crotch seams at night while I was sleeping. (She claims that she bought 56 sewing machine needles, but that it was still cheaper than buying new jeans.) She also appreciates your ability to make me blush and would like me to convey to you how much she welcomes any suggestions you have. Apparently, you're good for me…though she was a bit vague on expanding the reasons she thinks so. You are to meet her in person as soon as you are comfortable with the idea.
I'd like to thank you as well. I haven't seen my mother laugh so hard in years.
Sincerely,
The Idiot
Hope blinked at the email. "He…told his mother about me?" And she not only approved of her, but wanted to meet her? She blinked again. "What… What does this mean?" If he was any normal boy/man, she'd think it was a precursor to dating. Or more like the middle-cursor to dating. But…he wasn't human. And wasn't he the only non-human on Earth? Was he raised on Earth by human parents? Does that mean he wanted to DATE her?
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Clark was getting nervous. It had been almost one week since he'd heard from Hope, when they usually replied the very next day. He was getting worried. Did someone find her? (His mother was certain that they were female. She said the syntax was purely feminine in its insults, and that only a girl could be so complementary while yelling.) Was she injured? Did she get into an accident? Was she on vacation? Was she nervous?
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Hope,
Are you alright? It's been three weeks.
Please, contact me. Just let me know that you're okay. My mind has been rolling with all sorts of possibilities, including car accidents, bank robbery, vacation, and kidnapping.
I'm worried.
Idiot
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
No beta, all mistakes are mine.
Please let me know what you think, but don't be too harsh. I know its not perfect.
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