I like this chapter. I started laughing when I wrote it. As for grammar… my beta's been busy so I've been dishing these babies out on my own. Enjoy.

Jena could not stop staring at Clark. What! When did this happen? I've known you for less than a week and this is the second time we've seen each other. Jena didn't know what to say. Oh, she knew what she wanted to say. Yes. Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes! She just didn't know if he was playing a trick on her or not. Why was he asking her? A guy like him should have women beating down his door. Jena was used to being over looked because of her plain looks. She had always compared herself to wallpaper. Nobody dated wallpaper.

"Jena?" Clark looked concerned. Probably because of the spaced-out look she was wearing.

Jena took one look into Clark's sapphire blue eyes and knew he would never play with her emotions. He was a rare breed. Honest and kind. Clark would only say something if he meant it. And apparently, he meant this.

"I would l-love to go out on d-date with you, Clark." And here comes the stuttering. Not now. She kept on smiling.

Clark smiled his heart-wrenching smile at her. He was practically glowing. "That's great!" He stopped and lowered his raised voice, looking embarrassed. "Uhm," he coughed, "Sorry, I mean how does this Saturday sound?"

He sounded excited, like he was used to being turned down. Repeatedly. What kind of girl would do that? "I love Saturday. I mean the sound of Saturday. I mean…" Jena closed her eyes in humiliation. Waiting to hear him back out.

"So… seven o'clock? I'll come by your apartment." Clark said her.

Jena opened her mouth to except then closed it and decided to nod her head instead. She had been about to say how much she also liked seven.

"I should probably get back to work." She told him. It wasn't that she wanted to she just had too. Stupid job.

"Oh, yeah! I'm sorry; I keep taking up your time." He apologized. He was apologizing. This man was a saint. He walked with Jena to the elevator door. She was about to leave when something caught her eye. She backtracked a few steps and looked over the banister railing to the desk below.

"So that's the infamous Lois Lane's desk. Huh?" Jena stated. She had never cared for the woman, but still, it was Lois Lane. She had won the Pulitzer Prize twice. That usually meant you were good at what you did. The nameplate was still there, Jena noticed. She wondered why this was and turned to ask Clark, but stopped when she saw his face. He looked… lost. Like he was in a different place. A dream. Then, he shook his head, replaced his smile, and looked back at Jena.

"Yeah. That's was hers. I don't why the nameplate is still there though." Clark grabbed her arm and escorted her to back to the elevator. In a hurry, it seemed like. He pushed the lobby button and waved good-bye, saying he would see her Saturday.

That was…odd.

Jena pushed her way through the revolving doors, revealing a cold and lonely Metropolis. She walked back to the diner with a lot on her mind. She, Jena Bret, the piece of wallpaper, was going on a date with Clark Kent. Just the thought was enough to make her faint. Then there was that whole thing about Lois Lane's desk. Jena didn't dwell on it; she had decided that nothing would ruin her good mood. She should have realized that working at "Big Joe's" would complicate that decision.

"I did no such thing!" Jena cried. How dare Joe accuse her of stealing from the till.

"All I'm saying is you were the last to use it last night. That's a pretty fair amount of evidence against you." Joe's Brooklyn accent was showing with his anger. He had a short fuse and tended to release his tyranny against his employees.

"I haven't taken anything from you Mr. Ritonni and I'm surprised to hear you say so." Jena retorted. It had been a long night and she did not need this at the end of a hard day.

"He is right Jena; you were the last one to use it." One of the waitresses told her snidely. Jena knew she only did this to get on Joe's good side. Suck up.

"I did not take anything from you." Jena repeated herself forcefully. After all the work she puts in this hole-in-the-wall diner, Joe wasn't going to believe her. She wouldn't even be surprised if there was no missing money. Joe hadn't needed any help when she had applied, but "out of the compassion of his heart" he hired her anyway. Jena knew he was just looking for a reason to fire her.

"Jena you've worked here for awhile and I can't believe that you would do this to me after all I've done for you!" His booming voice yelled. Jena flinched at the enormous sound, waiting for him to lash out. He had hit a few of the girls that worked here, but nobody did anything. Work was so hard to find in Metropolis nobody could afford to. Jena had never witnessed this, but then again she worked the late shift and he wasn't around then. Thank God.

"Since you're such a hard worker and have never done anything of this nature before, I'll let this one go, but it's coming out of your paycheck." Jena also knew that if you owed Joe Ritonni a favor, he would collect. Sooner or later. She knew what kind favors he asked from the women that owed him. Jena shuddered at the thought. She hoped it would never come to that, because then she would be out of a job and probably fined for assault. Because when Jena was through with him, his eyes would be burning and he'd be talking in a much higher voice.

"Thank you sir." Jena said through gritted teeth. Jerk. As he was leaving, the waitress that had sided with him smirked at her and followed Joe out. Jena felt angry. Very angry. She sat down on a nearby chair and the first thought she had was about her parents of all people. She supposed it was because she had always talked to them when something had happened. Jena missed her parents more than she could say. They had both died in a car accident when she was sixteen and she had gone to live with a nice, but uninterested aunt.

Jena had moved to metropolis when she hit eighteen in hopes of making it big and cooking for the rich and famous. She had been naïve then, but not anymore. Jena was lucky she had met Sara right away to show her the ropes of the city. Otherwise who knows what could have happened. Jena would have believed anything that anyone told her. Like "Here follow me down this dark alley and I'll give you directions." Dummy.

Jena hobbled into her apartment and fell on the couch in defeat. The worst day ever. First, Clara called in sick (which she wasn't), causing Jena to be alone at the diner. That in turn, had caused Jena to be accused of stealing from the till. After that, on her way home she was mugged, and then; as she was climbing to her floor, one of the stairs gave away and smashed through. While Jena was holding ice to her sprained ankle, the manager informed that if she didn't pay for repairs by the end of the month she would be evicted. The only thing that had kept her from breaking down was the thought that Saturday and her date with Clark Kent was tomorrow.

Jena sighed. She still had to find something to wear. She thought about going to her closet to see what was in there, but her ankle hurt too much. Jena lay back on the couch with Sneakers, her cat, and promptly proceeded to dream about babies with black hair and beautiful blue eyes.

TBC… Have noticed how I like to allude about Clark being Superman and their (dumb) relationship. :) Take that Lois Lane!