Lois entered the Planet swearing. Ollie had called asking her about Clark's work schedule for the day. That always pissed her off. It was sweet of him to ask her both out of respect for their job at the Planet, knowing that Clark and 'no I can't' were incompatible things, and also to give her time in advance for the excuses she would have to feign for Perry. But it was not as if she had a say in anything that involved Clark's role in the League.
And speaking of the plaid loving farm boy: he was late, so she had decided she'd sell Perry the story herself.
It wasn't meant to be a big scoop, but rather a series of simple and very succinct editorials and straightforward articles concerning the present socio-economical background of the country, eventually contrasting it with the upcoming electoral presidential campaign.
Right now they were immersed in the Primaries, the most internationally covered since the Obama-Clinton duel back in 2008. However this once Lois was not happy about the source of interest: for the first time, an independent candidate had made it this far, polls indicating a frightening rise of popularity and voting intention. Granted, the race to the White House was still in diapers and polls were never 100% reliable, but when the candidate's name was Lex Luthor, one could never be too cautious. Even worse: while the main parties were still focused on raising money to lead their respective nomination races, Lex was months ahead of them, already in presidential campaign and far from needing financial funding.
In hers and Clark's opinion, the main national issues were far away from Lex's plans, and people needed to be reminded, above all having an electoral system in which the individual component was so important.
The idea was simple: Metropolis was the cultural, economical and political epicenter of the vast rural area that surrounded it.
Urban immigration was indeed a seed planted long ago, but the problems derived from it were starting to blossom now: farming communities were literally dying of lack of people, and the situation was reaching endemic proportions. Small plantation owners were being forced to sell their lands to big corporations, and not all of them were investors or corporations from the agribusiness. As an example, dangerously expanding in the Smallville area was the pharmaceutical branch of LexCorp. Surprise, surprise.
Apart from the increase of demand and inflation as the economical repercussions of such a decrease of rural demographic rates and the plummeting production of first need products, the overpopulation in the cities had also brought social conflicts as an added bonus.
This new recession was a top priority in each candidate's program except for Luthor's. What was he doing? He was expanding his poisonous tentacles, feeding from those issues to bring out his own personal interests, now apparently focused on carrying out doubtful classified medical experiments, claiming to act on behalf of national security.
Let him talk more about that during his campaign and she would dig so deep that Lex's political career would soon find an abrupt end. At least that she hoped. Lex was no common scumbag, quite the contrary; and he was a crazy dangerous billionaire with deliriums of grandeur who, oh, by the way, knew Superman's secret identity.
Except of course for that last tiny bit of information, that was the idea she wanted Perry to accept.
"We need to write it, chief."
Perry White arched his eyebrows and looked at her.
Yes, Lois Lane was one of a kind.
Ever since he arrived at the Planet as the new editor, Perry saw something special in that young woman, working as if the Apocalypse was coming. She was stubborn, courageous, defiant, tough, quarrelsome, sharp, bright and a hard worker. She was brilliant.
And the very live example of the phrase 'love is blind'. What nerve had short-circuited in her brain so Clark Kent had won her heart, he ignored, but he was sure of two things about Lois Lane: she was one of the best reporters in town, and she was utterly and completely in love with Clark Kent.
Kent, the small town boy. He had grown, he had seen the world...and apparently he had gone through some kind of involution. The small town had not gotten out of him, but pretty much the contrary. He was clumsy now. Bigger and clumsy. Lois herself called him her nerd with glasses. But there he was, another one of his best reporters.
When he was given the post of Editor, Oliver Queen, owner of the paper, had come to his office. His management of the Planet was very smooth, respectful and, something rare in this world, honorable. He had bought the paper to ensure its freedom of press, with no interference, and Perry White had been a key role to his purpose.
Oliver Queen had only demanded one favor: that Perry considered reading the articles of a friend of his. He was traveling, but he had worked at the Planet before and would be coming back to Metropolis.
He didn't have to elaborate any further: as soon as the words 'Smallville' and 'Clark Kent' were said, Perry asked to have all of his former articles sent to his mail. He had made a promise years before, and he hoped he could keep it.
Perry wasn't disappointed; Kent brought a special insight to the stories, keeping a balance between objectiveness and opinion that not everybody achieved. Biased opinions walked a dangerously thin line in present day's journalism, and he didn't want the Daily Planet to be the flag of any political color. He also appreciated this kind of 'outside the box' perspective he impregnated his stories with, so rare to find with the infamous deadline hovering omnipresently.
Clark was hired as soon as he came back, and formed a team with Lois, who soon after that would give the Planet its biggest scoop to date: the interview with the hero: Superman, formerly known as the Red-Blue Blur.
Lane and Kent, Smallville –as she usually called him– and Mad dog Lane. What a couple. That thought made Perry smile.
"Ok, Lane. You got it."
Lois grinned widely. Selling an investigation story to Perry was like climbing the Kanchenjunga limping. He could be such a hard bone to gnaw sometimes.
"Thanks, chief," she said.
"Don't thank me, I want it to be a Pulitzer piece, Lane, so sweat it. Use Kent for documentation. The boy has rural Kansas inside him. Heck, you can use him as a case-study." Perry looked past Lois to where their desks were. His chair was empty. "Where is he, by the way? Don't you lovebirds come together?"
The lying part. She hated that part. "Actually, chief, he had to go t–"
"Oh, there he is." Perry saw Clark entering the bullpen. As his office door was ajar, he didn't bother calling his secretary. He shouted instead. "Kent, bring your corn-fed butt here!"
The perennial clumsy farm boy persona that his mom and Lois had helped him build was so imprinted in him, that Clark didn't have to think about his body language and intonation any more. With a smile, he waved at Perry and went towards his office, stumbling on a few chairs and fellow reporters along the way. Lois found it difficult not to snort.
"Hi chief!" He gave Lois a peck. "Hi, hon."
Lois kissed him back. "Hi, baby." Clark eased his tension. He had sensed Lois' heart beating slightly faster than normal during the last half an hour, but everything seemed right. And she was smiling. No, not just that: she was smiling at Perry. And that could only mean–
"Kent I gave Lois her story you sleep together I'm sure you know all about it," said Perry without making any pause to breathe. "Help her with research. And Lane, try not to get in trouble, will you? Don't look for it."
"Oh, come on, Perry, you know I always try to be–"
"Reckless. You are always reckless, Lois," interjected Clark.
"Look, it's not my fault that I–" Again, she was cut. By Perry, this time.
"Lois, there are two reasons I'm giving you this story. One: it is a good story. Two: it's hardly imaginable that you will encounter danger among cornfields and cattle. Seriously, kid, our insurance company wants to change its clauses. In your contract only."
"I will try to do my best," responded Lois cynically.
"Ok. Now go and do that thing I pay you for."
Clark and Lois responded in unison. "Yes, chief." Then they turned to leave his office.
"And then get to the Grey theater, you're covering Luthor's speech this evening."
Ever since Lex came back from the dead, the conversation of how would he take revenge or how should they behave in public about him, had been a weekly event at the Lane-Kent household. One of the things in which they had both agreed upon, was to hide the personal component of their involvement with him as much as they could. So if they had to go and listen to his bullshit, they would go and listen to his bullshit.
Another thing they had agreed upon was not letting Lex screw with their lives more than necessary, so without any explanatory talk, they automatically changed the conversation on their way back to their desks. It was not denial. It was surviving and fighting for their love. Their relationship was hard enough as it was, they didn't need that particular third party to revolt their life just because his name was pronounced.
So if anyone looked at them walking the short distance between the editor's office and their desks, one would figure they were whispering about some boring shop list to do or their work assignments. None would be right.
"Was everybody ok?," asked Lois. That was a common conversation between the two reporters. Lois figured doctors and policemen would talk about their jobs with the same casual tone as them right now; otherwise they'd go mad. The only difference in them was that in public places, such as the Daily Planet's bullpen, they had to watch the volume.
"I had to take a small girl to the hospital," responded Clark, slightly bothered by the fact that an infant had been hurt. Lois' face mirrored his concern, to which he replied quickly in order to ease it. "She's ok now. The robber broke a glass and one of the shattered pieces made a nasty cut on her leg; there was a lot of blood and she was scared, I figured she would calm down if Superman himself took her to the hospital."
"And?"
Clark smiled. "It worked."
"I'm glad." Lois took his hand and kissed it before going to her desk. "Now, let's oil the wheels and start working, Smallville."
Clark sat on his desk, just in front of her. Still, there was that little matter he couldn't just let go.
"So..."
His tone made Lois raise her head, followed by one of her eyebrows.
"...it is your story now."
Clark's smile was a little too forced. After all those years, Lois could read his body language like an open book for six-year-old children. And boy, was it fun sometimes.
"Jealous, Smallville?"
--I smirk. It's teasing time. I see him rolling his eyes. In that cute way he rolls his eyes.
"Of you? Pfffff..."
--Clark Kent's Body Language 101, chapter one: when he denies it, it's true.
"Oh my, you are!"
--Chapter two: when he realizes I've read chapter one, the king of denial takes over.
"Am not."
--He gives me a deadpan look. In which he has to work more. After all these years, and he's still unable to nail it unless he's on tights.
"Come on, Smallville..."
--Now the stupidest phrase incoming....
"I saved his life, you know?"
--Et voilà.
"Oh, yes. And if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be here today."
"As a matter of fact..."
--Incorrigible.
"Oh, Smallville, get over yourself, will you? I'm still the best reporter of the team, and that's why I got the byline on the story."
"Lo, you got it because you were pissed that I left you alone this morning."
"Not to mention the open curtains in our bedroom," I add.
--Ok, Smallville, you get the first round. But just the first.
"So, does it bother you that I got ahead in your personal bylines account?"
--...Gotcha.
"I don't compete with our bylines."
--Dear Clark: no one else in the world has the ability to make me smirk teasingly as much as you do. You should add that one to your super abilities list. Yours truly, Lois.
"Then why are you keeping score, Smallville?"
--Ps: Seriously, Clark, no one else does.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, right. That said by a man with an uncanny ridiculously naive tendency to keep green rocks in toolboxes in the most visited barn in Smallville and magical rings in working desks in one of the most busy bullpens of all Metropolis. Clark, you have a scribbled list counting our bylines on the top drawer. The one you still always leave unlocked."
--He rolls his eyes once more. No, Smallville, I still haven't forgotten about the ring incident.
"I wonder what were you doing looking inside my drawer."
--And now he shows me his Clark Kent triple poker face: a third of defeat, a third of irony and a third of fun. I get the second round.
"I needed a staple," I say matter-of-factly.
--It's not as if I'm expecting him to buy it. Nevertheless, the son of Jonathan Kent takes over, and as usual, he explains.
"They are an incentive, Lo, not a competition."
"Right. Of course," I add teasing him a little more. "Did you know that there was a monthly poll in City about who of us got more bylines?"
--He gives me a surprised look.
"Really? And who won?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, Smallville."
--Ps: I love you.
Clark's playful smile was enough reason for Lois to concede him a small, pyrrhic victory. However, as much as she wanted to dodge the topic, she had to change the mood of the conversation. Downsides of being Mrs. Superman.
"By the way, Ollie called. And before you ask, I don't know the specifics, and no, I don't really want to know them."
Sunshine was definitely bound to disappear early on today. No matter how hard she tried.
Long gone from the basement years, Lois looked at one of the windows of the top Daily Planet's bullpen and swore she could see some grey clouds coming form the north.
Every time the day seems to rise, something reminds me that today is NOT going to be my day, no matter how hard I try, Chloe.
Author's notes:
I'm sticking to Smallville's geographical location of Metropolis, so the city is in Kansas, not in the East Coast. And Gotham City, I placed it in Illinois, because in several web pages I've seen it compared to Chicago. Star City is on the West Coast, in California.
The fic follows a very defined timeline, so there are a couple of chapters, like this one, where there's only one thing happening. I hope it doesn't leave the impression of breaking the story's flow, because everything is linked.
I like to resort to first person when I consider it can do some good to the narrative. In this case you might agree or not, but I liked the idea of displaying Lois' inner thoughts while she talked to Clark from her very own p.o.v. Won't be the last time I use first person in Link.
No songs in this one.
All feedback is welcome, but don't feel forced to review, I just hope you enjoy it! :)
