A/N: This one's dedicated to the wonderful, wonderful posters who've offered up their feedback. I was terribly afraid for a moment there after chapter 2 that my story was pure crap, so it was nice to have the encouragement. Please, please review! I love know that there are people out there who at the very least are reading & liking the story.
This chapter is heavily inspired by an episode of a 90s Brit-show called "Press Gang". I couldn't resist the comparison, especially in light of Lois' "rule". I hope you enjoy :)
.::Rule 3: Always make a good first impression (and don't screw up with the boss)::.
BACHELOR AUCTION RAISES THOUSANDS FOR CHILDREN'S CHARITY
By Cat Grant
Last night at the Queen Auditorium, hundreds gathered for what turned out to be an extremely successful night. Queen Industries Children's Charity managed to raise over $1 million dollars through the auctioning of Metropolis' most eligible bachelors. The king of Queen Industries himself, Oliver Queen secured the highest bid at $450,000 by an anonymous bidder. Sources are quick to suggest the newly affluent Tess Mercer, head of LexCorp, was the mysterious bidder looking to snatch up the hunky entrepreneur before anyone else could sink their claws into him.
Noticeably absent from the event was Gotham's most eligible bachelor, Bruce Wayne. His reps say that while Mr. Wayne is always a generous supporter of Children's Charities, his presence was required at a Wayne Enterprise event. Word on the street is that Mr. Wayne may not be a bachelor for very long as he was spotted arm in arm with the Daily Planet's own cut-throat reporter, Lois Lane at the Metropolis Congress Centre. That's one bone "Mad Dog" Lois Lane can't possibility resist.
...:::...
"Jeremy?" Lois asked, her voice oozing sweetness as she handed over her offering of a coffee and bagged pastry.
"Lois?" He replied suspiciously. He eyed her oddly wondering what the occasion was that warranted the niceties. Usually she barely noticed him, typically muttering half words as she'd toss edited copy his way. "It's Jason, not Jeremy," he reminded for the hundredth time that month as he accepted the coffee and pastry.
"Oh. Right… Anyway, I was wondering—"
"No, I'm not going with you to the Wayne Foundation party."
"Ugh!" Lois cried out, stomping her foot in frustration, grabbing back the coffee and pastry from Jason's hands. "What is wrong with you people?" She called out to the basement bullpen, addressing no one in particular. "Do I have horns on my head? Why is it so damn hard to get a date to a stupid party 'round here?" For the past week she'd asked just about every male in Features to be her date. Almost every one. And each had turned her down.
"Lois, just ask Clark," Jason suggested with a chuckle. It was well known throughout the Features department that the farm kid from Smallville had a thing for Lois Lane. Everyone from writers to copy editors to even the mail sorters watched with knowing smirks as Clark fumbled around Lois, constantly tugging at his tie and tripping over his words.
The newsroom was divided on Lois' feelings for Clark. While she barked out orders equally to all, lately she seemed to gnaw through pen caps more frequently. And then there was the way she would unknowingly fiddle with her hair any time Clark came within five feet of her.
The basement bullpen had gone through three rounds of bets trying to figure out when one of them would finally pull the trigger and ask the other on a date. What Lois hadn't realized was that the entire floor had been conspiring against her at the first rumblings of the event.
Lois pounded her fist on a nearby desk. "I am not going to ask Clark Kent! That's just ludicrous! He doesn't even like-."
A throat cleared behind her. "Doesn't what, Lois?"
Lois winced at the sound of Clark's voice. What she'd wanted to say was that he didn't even like her. After all he was always tripping over himself to get away from her. Slowly she turned to face him. "Uh… nothing," she lied. It's not that it hadn't occurred to Lois to invite Clark; she'd known him long enough that she was fairly certain that he'd go with her if she'd asked. But lately, something had been stirring inside of her and it made her uneasy. Recently she'd begun to notice that Clark was filling out his dress shirts a little nicer and there'd been more times than she'd care to admit that she found herself starring at his lips wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
"Lois wants you to go with her to the Wayne Foundation party," Jason interjected on Lois' behalf. "Perry wants a representative from each department and she offered—"
"—was told!"
"To go," he finished. "It's a plus one, black tie event in Metropolis tonight."
"Sure," agreed Clark, shrugging his shoulders. "Sounds like fun. What time's it at?"
Lois narrowed her eyes, glaring at Clark. "I thought you hated those kinds of events?"
Jason picked up the invitation from Lois' desk. "It's at 8pm," he said slapping the envelope against Clark's chest. "Good luck dude."
...:::...
Lois' heart jumped into her throat when she heard the knock sound at her door. She pushed her fingers through her hair one last time and took a lingered glance at her face in the mirror. Everything was as good as it was going to get, she figured.
With a deep sigh she called out, "Coming!" Heading to the door, she patted down the satin blue dress which dipped low at her chest and clung perfectly to her curves.
"You were supposed to be here for 7:30, you're earl—" As she swung the door open, her words caught in her throat. Before her stood Clark impressively clad in a black tuxedo, his hair messily curled at his forehead, a light smile on his lips. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
"For you," Clark said revealing a bouquet of daisies that he held hidden behind his back. "I remembered they're your favourite."
"Oh!" Lois said surprised. She took the flowers and held them to her nose. "I didn't realize I'd told you I liked daisies. Thank you!" She shook her head, confused. She could've sworn she'd only told the Blur about her love for the white and yellow flower.
"You look beautiful Lois," Clark said nervously as he watched her fill a vase with water.
"Th-Thanks. You too," she replied, sloshing water on to the counter. "I mean, you look good too."
"Thanks," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "So what's this night about anyway?" He asked as Lois grabbed her purse and keys.
"Bruce Wayne, that rich entrepreneur from Gotham City, just bought out the Daily Planet." She explained, closing the door behind her and locking it. "He's hosting this ball as a way to meet and greet the Planet's best and brightest."
"And of course you were invited," Clark added sincerely.
Lois chuckled. "I guess. It's nice to be asked. But someone from each department was required to attend, so I doubt that he'll even realize I'm there."
"Then it'll be his biggest mistake." Clark said as he opened the door to his truck and helped her up on to the step.
"Smallville?"
"Yeah?" He replied; his hand perched, ready to close the passenger door.
With a smirk, Lois asked: "Do you always know all the right things to say?"
"Only sometimes," He said with a smile.
...:::...
"I can't do this," Lois declared pacing the hall outside of the convention room at the Metropolis Congress Centre.
"Can't do what?" Clark asked confused.
"Hic!"
"What was that?"
"Shut up!" She paused and took a deep breath, willing the catch in her throat to disappear. "It's a nervous tick alright! Hic! It comes on sometimes when I'm nervous."
"Lois, I've known you over five years and I haven't heard you do that… ever!"
"Hic! I haven't had to make a first impression like this before. This is Bruce Wayne! He owns the paper and most of Gotham City…" Lois's eyebrows furrowed. "What if he's heard about all the health claims I've made and he's just looking for an opportunity to fire me? Or what if he's looking to demote me because I still haven't gotten the one-on-one exposé interview with the Blur? Can someone go lower than the sub-basement? You can't predict what these wealthy types are thinking, especially someone like Bruce Wayne."
"Lois—!" Clark called out, attempting to no avail to interrupt her babbling.
"Seriously Clark! – Hic—Why was I invited to this event anyway? There are better reporters in Features. I've only just given them trouble… oh god!"
"Lois! Look at me!" Clark reached out and held her arms steady, pulling her to attention. "You are a fantastic reporter. I don't know what's making you think otherwise, but you were invited here because you've gotten the Planet some of their largest selling headlines. You are the damn best reporter at that place and I can guarantee you that you are going to make an amazing first impression."
"Are you sure?" She asked defeated.
"I'm more sure about this than anything, Lois. Trust me."
She narrowed her eyes at him, disbelief written across her face. Suddenly, without thinking she blurted, "I need to go home!"
"What?"
Lois turned and headed toward the main doors. "I can't do this. Hic!" With deliberate force, she pushed open the glass doors and stormed out on to the street; Clark followed close behind.
"You want to go home?" He called out tentatively as she marched eastbound along 44th Street.
"Hic! Yes. Now where'd you park the damn car?" She shouted back, her anger unfairly directed toward Clark.
"Uh, it's that way…" He pointed in the opposite direction to which Lois was walking.
"Fine," she huffed and turned on her heel. "Are you coming? Hic!" She asked, her eyes flashing as she passed him by.
"Yah," he replied reluctantly, following her.
Occasionally he would hear a soft "hic" from Lois as she stormed toward the parking garage, her heels echoing along the sidewalk.
"You're sure you want to do this?" Clark called out in a last ditch effort.
"What?" She turned and glared at him. "What do you mean?"
"You're sure you want to throw away the perfect opportunity to make connections within Wayne Enterprise and finally show Perry that you can tango with the best of them? Maybe even get that ever-elusive interview with Bruce Wayne?"
"What are you saying Clark? Spit it out!" She dared him, furious.
"Fine!" He challenged, stepping closer toward her. "I think this hiccupping thing is in your head. You've psyched yourself out because for some strange reason you don't believe in yourself."
"I believe in myself!" Lois declared, indignant.
"Most of the time you do," he countered. "But for some reason this event—meeting all these people who could literally change your life—is making your think twice. I think that if you leave you're going to make the biggest mistake of your life and I think you'll regret it."
"You do, do you?"
"Yeah, I do."
Lois' eyes softened at his reply. How was it that he always seemed to know her so well? She frowned and found her eyes darting toward her purse where her fingers began to nervously twirl at a decorative fringe. "What am I going to say to them, Clark?"
"What you usually say to start conversations. Sports, beer, monster trucks—it won't matter. They'll fall in love with you Lois, I promise." He ran his hand along her arm encouragingly.
"I don't know. What if they don't like sports or beer or god forbid, monster trucks?" She looked up at Clark, her eyes pleading.
"Lois, you're kidding right?" He asked, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "You don't even realize that every time you walk in to a room every head turns toward you. You're going to dazzle them, just like you always do. The Lois I know wouldn't be scared off by something like a hiccup. She would march in there and own that hiccup."
Lois bit her bottom lip and considered his words. "Okay Smallville." She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She linked her arm into Clark's. "You'd better be –hic– right about this."
He chuckled at her unfailing ability to shrug her fears away so easily. "I am, Lois."
"Hic! Help me blow them away, then. Cause if this ship goes down, I'm taking you with me," she said with a wink.
Returning to the convention hall, a staff member opened the door for them. Lois looked up at Clark with an incredulous smile. "Oh and Smallville? Don't get wise and think you're getting a good night kiss because you helped me out for five minutes. It's not like this is a date or anything."
Clark laughed nervously and shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing," he lied. "Definitely not a date."
...:::...
Clark sipped at his champagne and watched from the corner of the room as Lois laughed freely with Bruce Wayne. Her hand flirtatiously pushed her long hair from her face as Bruce's arm reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. Her hiccups had disappeared as soon as the Gotham playboy had come over to introduce himself, striking up a conversation about the lack of quality beer offered by the bar. As he continued to watch them talk, the occasional bout of laughter reaching his ears, Clark could easily feel the jealousy creeping into his veins and willed away his desire to race across the room and punch Bruce in the face. Before he could stop himself, he felt the narrow bowl of his glass shatter in his hand sending champagne spilling across his suit jacket. Lois glared warningly from across the room as Clark shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. He reached over and took some napkins from the bar and began to lightly pat away the excess moisture.
"Steady there, boy," came a voice from behind him. Clark turned to find Perry White before him, squeezing a lemon into a short glass. Clark raised his eyebrow at the glass. "Soda water," Perry said with a knowing nod. "On the mend, Clark. I promised your mother."
Clark nodded. "That's good to hear. How've you been doing since…?" He let his words drop, unsure of how to continue.
"Since your mother and I broke it off?" Perry suggested, taking a sip from his glass. "Not going to lie to you Clark, it's been hard. But I'm getting by. Being back in Metropolis with the Planet helps."
"The Planet's been doing really well since you became editor," Clark offered, his eyes flicking back to Lois and Bruce.
"She's quite a star that one," Perry said with a knowing smirk. "Angling to get to the 10th floor at every opportunity."
"She deserves it."
"Oh, I don't disagree. I know a City News contract for her is going to come at a huge price. Unfortunately in today's economy I can't justify bringing her up to the 10th without her name on the byline for a story of epic proportions."
"Epic proportions?" Clark said with a laugh.
"That's what the kid in accounting keeps telling me. I've been trying to bring you upstairs too, you know. You don't exactly make it easy on a fella, you know?"
Clark cocked his head and looked at Perry quizzically. "What do you mean?"
Perry leaned in and whispered, "Boy, you've got to write more pieces. Get in to the action. Get your hands dirty. Hang out with Lane more often. Follow her lead."
Clark nodded, understanding. He just wasn't completely sure if he wanted to be on the 10th floor where it might not be as easy to escape from one's desk at the sound of a cry for help.
"Listen, I'm angling to get Lombard back to the 8th floor. He's a complete skirt chaser. It's not the highest paying position, but once Lane gets upstairs it'll give you two an opportunity to partner up on some real news," he said with a wink. "Start getting in to the thick of it and I'll gladly send Lombard packing, hear me?"
"You're not worried that people might think its favouritism or something?"
"Lemme worry about that Clark. I told your mother I'd look out for you. File a few more stories and I'll see what I can do. As for Lane? She'll get to the 10th easily, but she'll want to earn it."
Clark smiled, agreeing. Lois wouldn't want to be handed an opportunity, she'd definitely want to show that she was deserving of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lois returning to him with Bruce at her side.
"Bruce, I'd like to introduce you to Clark Kent," Lois said motioning towards Clark. He held out his hand, eyeing Clark suspiciously. "And of course, you must know Perry White," she added nodding toward Perry.
"Clark? Good to meet you." Bruce shook Clark's hand, his grip tightening to match Clark's. "Perry? Nice to see you again."
"Bruce," replied Perry raising his glass and nodding. "Listen, there's a few advertisers I need to put some face time in with, I'll leave you all to it. It was great catching up, Clark." Perry patted Clark on the arm as he turned. "Good luck," he added with a wink.
"So Clark, Lois tells me you two have worked on a few articles together. What's it like working with such a spitfire?"
Lois laughed and lightly punched at Bruce's arm. "A spitfire? Oh, I don't know about that!"
"Nonsense Lois," Bruce said. "I've read some of your articles. The one about the Justice Society in particular was riveting. Do you really think that there's still a place for these superheroes in today's society? You don't think they're just vigilantes out for revenge?"
Clark watched the exchange unfold before him, silenced by their constant stream of dialogue. Bruce appeared so poised and confident with his designer suit neatly pressed and assistants who were at his beck and call. It was clear where ever he went, every pair of eyes turned in his direction. Clark was nonplussed by the attention Bruce commanded; it all seemed so unwarranted in his opinion.
"What do you think Clark?" Asked Bruce. "Is there a place for superheroes in this world?"
Carefully and pointedly, Clark narrowed his eyes and replied, "There's always a place for heroes. Super or otherwise. As long as the hero works toward maintaining honesty, truth and justice, there will always be a need."
Bruce raised his eyebrows and looked toward Lois. "By that admission, I'd say Clark here is also a fan of your beloved Blur."
"Tell me Clark," Bruce continued, his eyes narrowing. "What're your thoughts on the new legislation that's trying to be passed in government: the Disabled Powers bill? Are you for or against it?"
"Against," he said simply, offering no further reasoning.
Lois smiled. "I hear Gotham's got its own hero as well. The Batman?"
"Well Gotham's Batman doesn't need superhuman abilities or meteor-powers as you would call it, to put criminals behind bars. He does it using talent, mechanism and—"
"And a whole lot of money?" Clark interrupted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Bruce. "I hear that Wayne Enterprise has been funneling money toward high-tech weapons and machinery. Any truth to that?"
"Sir?" Interrupted an elderly man, his British lilt obvious in his speech. "Commissioner Gordon is on the phone for you. He'd like to discuss your involvement with this year's Gotham Charity Ball."
Bruce nodded and gave Clark a suspicious glare. "Thank you, Alfred. You'll have to excuse me Lois, Clark; I have to take this." He took Lois' hand and lifted it to his lips. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I'll look forward to reading more of your work in the future. You know how to reach me?" Lois nodded, speechless. Bruce turned and with the eyes of the room following him, he was led by Alfred in to the hallway, disappearing around a corner.
"Wow," muttered Lois under her breath.
"Wow?" Clark asked incredulous, turning his thumb toward the door. "That guy?"
"Oh, Smallville. I hope you're not jealous," she said with a laugh. Clark's face reddened as he looked away.
Laughing, Lois pulled at his arm and led him toward the dance floor. "C'mon, dance with me."
Clark shook his head, "I don't dance."
"You do now," Lois said with a grin, lacing her palm into his and raising her left hand to his shoulder. "Just don't step on my feet."
Smiling in spite of himself, he shook his head; Lois was incorrigible. Clark relaxed his hand at her waist.
Moving slowly to the beat of the music, Clark felt his senses become intoxicated by the scent of her light perfume. He felt his pulse quicken and feared that Lois might hear the thumping of his heart. Little did he realize that Lois shared a similar worry, attempting to mask her own quickening heart rate by repeatedly tucking her hair behind her ear.
As the music swelled and then softened to its finale, Clark breathed a light sigh of relief. Being this close to Lois, having her body tucked closely against his own, reminded him of the thousands of reasons he was grateful to Jason for forcing Lois to take him to the party.
"I guess I owe Jason thanks," Lois said, breaking their silence as a second song filled the hall.
Startled, Clark wondered briefly if Lois had been sharing his thoughts. "Why's that?" He asked carefully.
Lois looked up at him, her eyes softening. "I'm glad you went on this date with me Clark."
"I thought it wasn't a date?" He teased.
"It certainly seems like a date, doesn't it?" She said with a laugh. Poking her finger into his chest, she warned, "Even though you may have been right about me earlier and this might be a date, you're still not getting a good night kiss."
"I was right, huh?"
"Yeah. You were right. I may look and seem confident, but sometimes I don't feel like it. I needed you to remind me that I could do it. That I had it in me."
Lost for words, Clark just nodded and pulled her toward him for the next dance.
"Huh. You're a not bad dancer, Smallville. Maybe you'll get that goodnight kiss after all." Lois had meant for the words to come from her mouth with a hint of laughter and sarcasm, but instead her words betrayed her. All night she'd chastened herself, trying to create excuses for the quickening beat of her heart. Even Bruce had commented on the numerous glances she'd snuck in Clark's direction. With his arm pulling her closer toward him; with the scent of his cologne filling her senses and with each look he gave her, he had unknowingly stirred awake something inside her.
"Lois?" Clark said finally.
"Yes?"
"What about Bruce?" He questioned, unsure that he wanted to know her answer.
"What about Bruce?" She repeated.
Clark shook his head. "I thought… I mean, he was looking…"
"It's just a front page story, Clark," she said simply, her throat dry. "I think… I think I might—That we might…" She looked up at him. Lois suddenly wished that Clark, by some miracle, might share the feelings that were springing up inside of her. There was something in his face, in the way he stared down at her in that moment that led her to believe, led her to hope…
Clark didn't question her words. Instead he moved his body closer toward her, drawn by something instinctual. Perhaps it was the fullness of her lips, the softness of her eyes, and the curve of her cheeks that drew him nearer… or maybe it was just a deep seated feeling he had. His eyes closed, heavy with desire. Hers followed. She tilted her head, her heart racing and her secret yearning taking control.
Just as their lips were millimeters apart, a sharp buzzing sounded causing Lois' eyes to fly open and Clark to step back.
Startled, she pulled the zipper of her purse that had hung at her side. "My phone," she mumbled absently turning it over in her hand to read the screen. "Looks like we missed a story."
Blinking away his haze, he cocked his head. "What?"
"Seems that there's been a break out at Blackgate prison," she said reading off her screen, the moment seemingly long forgotten.
Clark pulled at his tie. "I'll just go and get—"
Lois reached out and grabbed Clark's jacket sleeve, stopping him. "You're not going anywhere. You're my drive, remember?"
Clark looked around him, trying to quickly figure out a way to duck out from the party without drawing her attention.
Lois held up her phone. "Batman stopped it."
"What?" Clark asked, stunned. Batman was in Metropolis?
"C'mon! Let's go check it out. Maybe they'll let us talk to some witnesses." She pulled at his elbow and guided him toward the coat check, digging into her purse for her ticket.
Clark shook his head in confusion as he helped Lois into her shrug. "I don't get it," he said aloud.
"Get what?"
"Why is Batman in Metropolis?"
Lois looked up at him, excited. "Who cares? If Batman is in Metropolis that to me spells a Daily Planet front page headline."
...:::...
The night at the Wayne Foundation event hadn't exactly gone the way that Clark had hoped. He'd spent most of it watching Bruce Wayne vie for Lois' attention; then he missed an opportunity to share a kiss with her and had finished the night watching Lois annoy the desk officer at the Metropolis Police Department. Thankfully, their ride back to Smallville had improved his mood; Lois had dared him into a game of ABC Countries and she was decidedly winning.
"R?" He asked.
"Rhodesia."
"Rhodesia? That country hasn't existed since 1980! No cheating. Current countries only."
"Fine. Romania. Your turn: S."
"Easy. Switzerland. T."
"Turkmenistan," Lois said with a flourish, confident in her answer.
Clark's eyes widened at her familiar choice. "Well done!"
Lois gave a slight bow and laughed. "I'm such a champ at this game!"
"Yes, yes you are." Clark shook his head in amusement as he parked the truck in front of the Talon. "I'll walk you to your door," he offered.
"Oh Smallville, giving up already are we?" She challenged with a nervous titter to her voice as she fumbled for her keys to unlock the door to the coffee house.
Intending to ease the butterflies in her stomach, she laughed lightly to herself. "Do you remember the last time we played 20 Questions? It was on the way to the lake last summer, wasn't it?" She held the door open for him to follow her inside.
Smiling, he replied, "Yeah. I think I won that time."
"Only because I let you win. It was like you wanted to lose. I had to give you a break at some point."
"How generous!" Clark retorted with a grin spread across his face.
"Listen Clark, I wanted to thank you again for tonight," she blurted out, silently willing away the butterflies in her stomach.
"Again?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Lois, really. I was happy to come along. And for the record, my theory about you was right."
Lois cocked her head, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Theory? What theory?"
"That you would dazzle everyone."
"Oh Clark!" She said, punching her fist into his arm. "I don't know about that." Turning, she continued up the stairs. "You always know the right thing to say don't you?"
"Only—"
"— sometimes," she finished with a nervous smile as she reached the door to her apartment.
"I mean it though, Lois. You impressed Bruce enough that he's probably going to give you an exclusive and Perry's been waiting for you to catch the right story so he can bring you up to the 10th floor. You're going places Lois Lane."
Lois smiled, touched at his kind words. "I had a great time tonight, Clark."
"You're welcome, Lois."
Nervously, Lois motioned toward her apartment door. "I should, you know, go inside and try to cobble together some semblance of an article about that prison breakout."
"Yeah. You probably should," he agreed with a slight, slow nod.
Before his common sense could take over, before he could convince himself otherwise, Clark reached his hand toward Lois' cheek and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered momentarily along her jaw line. Slowly, he leaned toward Lois, his heart nervously skipping in his chest. Her head tilted in response, seemingly ready to welcome his lips to her own.
He felt her hand push against his chest, stopping him. "I think you might be confused about this kiss, Clark," she said sternly, a small smirk pulling at her lips.
Clark's face reddened. How foolish he'd been! "Oh. Right." He dropped his hand from her face and attempted to mask his disappointment. "No confusion. It's good night kiss. A thank you, right? I totally understand."
With her teeth biting at her lower lip, Lois' eyes sparkled as she shook her head. "I knew you were confused."
In one fluid movement, Lois pulled at the lapels of Clark's suit jacket, bringing him toward her. Her lips pressed against his, eliciting a surprised gasp. Without missing a beat, his hands pulled at her waist, daring her body closer. Their tongues danced hungrily, the long censored emotions freed in each of them. Her hands inched toward his neck, her fingers tangling within his hair; his slid up the length of her back pulling her tight. At some point a desperate hand reached out and turned the door knob causing them to stumble dizzily into the apartment and onto the nearby sofa.
The next day's edition of the Daily Planet was published without an article by Lois Lane or Clark Kent on the break out at Blackgate prison. Neither Lois, nor Clark had a care as to what their new boss would think. Instead, in the darkly lit room above the Talon, another kind of first impression was being made. Sometimes rules were worth being broken.