As I flew back to Metropolis, a million and one things were rummaging about in my alien brain, though that can easily happen when you're soaring above everything. The buildings, the people, the cars…it is such a surreal feeling that it is hard to even put into words except that, this must be what the birds feel like, minus the random pooping on things part; that'd just be weird.
Once I arrived at my apartment, I landed on my terrace to find a note stuck to my back window, 'Stop by my work tomorrow. We need to talk. –K' Man, why was he always so cryptic? That 'K' standing of course for Kal-El or Kent…however you chose to look at it. Who leaves notes on windows anymore anyway? A simple text would have sufficed but 'ol Clarky boy was pretty set in his ways and absolutely hated cell phones. He still claimed the processors are laced with kryptonite or something, as they always seem to fog up his brain. I smiled to myself as I let myself into my apartment through the sliding glass door, before removing the uniform, showering, and crawling into bed. Nice of Kal to leave me guessing just what in the world he needed to talk to me about so urgently. Maybe I could call him? One glance at the clock affirmed that'd be a seriously bad idea; Lois would kill me, kryptonite stake and all. Hmph, until tomorrow, galaxy I thought as I turned out the lights.
The next day, I stood in the elevator of the Daily Planet building in downtown metropolis, clad in my jeans, sneakers and Led Zeppelin t-shirt. I usually made it a point to dress as unprofessionally as possible when Kal randomly asked me to meet him at work without wreaking havoc on my personal self-worth. It drove him absolutely bonkers. I ran a hand through my long blonde locks as the elevator doors opened to the bustling chaos that was the Daily Planet; papers were flung to and fro, phones were being slammed, and I am pretty sure I could hear Perry White yelling in his office from across the room. I made a bee line for Kal's desk, slowly peeking my eyes over the cubicle wall to see his glasses covered face shoved into a computer screen.
"You do realize it's almost lunch time?" Kal said to me as I rolled my eyes and made my way around the side of the cubicle to peer at him with crossed arms.
"Your point? Your very detailed message failed to depict a specific time for this little shin dig of yours." I retorted as Kal pushed the glasses up his nose as if those lenses were actually helping his vision in anyway. It had to have been so annoying to wear those blasted things; it was bad enough when you needed them, but Kryptonians? Never, and I mean never would you see me in a pair of those. I watched Kal do a quick scan of my attire as he let out a sigh; here it comes.
"Why can't you at least pretend to dress normally when you come here? Led Zeppelin, really?" Kal spoke as he stood from his desk with that imposing, tall figure of his.
"Oh come on Clark, who here doesn't like Led Zeppelin?" I asked as a random male's voice suddenly sung the popular lyrics to Led Zeppelin's, 'Immigrant Song'. "We come from the land of ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow…"
I smiled at Clark, still not seeing the face of the man who didn't do too shabby of a job singing, and threw up a rock symbol while saying, "Rock on brother." A random hand displaying a returned rock symbol sprung from a random cubicle as Kal slapped a palm to his face.
"Next thing I know, you'll be walking in here with a lower back tattoo," he said, as my eyes suddenly grew as wide as watermelons.
"Wait…do you think they could actually do that, like at Star Labs or something?" I looked at him with actual curiosity as I felt a firm grip on my arm. He led me to a quiet meeting room at the corner of the floor. He shut the door behind us, turned and crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw seemed to square off more than it already was, was that even possible?
"Kara, I think it's time you found a job." He said to me as I looked around as if I were being Punk'd; where was Ashton Kutcher hiding, the vents maybe?
"Clark, if this is about my rent money, I could always move back in with you and Lois, or…get a part time job at Starbucks maybe? I'd make a pretty amazing barista; those coffees would be the perfect temperature every time, guaranteed."
"Kara, I am being serious. You are excessively too far into the limelight now without having, you know…a job, an identity." I blinked at him a few times as if he were speaking Mandarin before placing my hands on my hips.
"Out with it Clark, you already have something in mind, obviously, or else you wouldn't have asked me to come out here," I said as I watched Kal remove a piece of paper from his back pocket and place it on the meeting room table before me, giving it a little slide in my direction. It took me three seconds to notice the big fat 'Wayne Enterprises' logo at the top of the page and my eyes immediately shot back to Kal.
"Wayne Enterprises? Clark you have got to be kidding me, I can't work at Wayne Enterprises! He'd probably make me a janitor! Oh my god, I'd have to clean up Bruce Wayne's crap remnants and random sunflower seed shells that are like stuck into the crevices of his office chair or-," I began to stammer before Kal delicately raised a hand to slap over my mouth.
"Kara…read it before you start doing your rambling thing. I honestly think this would be good for you. It'd be someone we know, someone we can trust, who already knows who you are. Plus, I'd love to see him squirm." Kal said smirking to himself as I continued to read the page and noticed in big bold letters the word, 'Intern'.
"So, you want me to be an…intern? To what the research and development department?" I questioned, again not bothering to read the rest of the page; I wanted to hear it come from his conniving, sculpted face.
"No, you'd be an intern to Wayne, himself. Like I said this would be perfect for you. I want you to apply today, actually, right now, with me helping you. We will have to make a lot of this up, obviously, and give you a different name, but as soon as Wayne sees you, well, he owes me a favor." I pretended to look over the page as I cleared my throat.
"You might want to give me a hundred bucks to give him then, if you're planning on calling in a favor." I managed to work in, not able to make eye contact with him.
"Hundred bucks? For what? And how do you-, did you see him recently?" His voice sounded anything but calm as he outright bellowed that last question.
"I followed a guy into Gotham City last night; no big deal, words were exchanged, answers were received, and he may have mentioned that you lost a poker game. Anyway, let's get working on this resume, huh, Big Guy?" I said as I slapped the paper into his chest, brushing past him to go to the nearest computer that was accessible; any computer, even a typewriter would have sufficed just to get me out of Kal's heat vision that was beginning to creep at the corners of his eyes.
We spent the next couple of hours formulating a make-shift resume for myself that would be enough to pass through human resources' prying eyes, but not so far-fetched that it would seem completely and ridiculously made up. For instance, he was not a fan of my wanting to throw on there that I could speak Cantonese, or that I did a tour with the Hawaiian Tropic bikini troupe;though, honestly, I think anyone who worked for Bruce Wayne would believe that slime-ball would call in a woman who had that on her resume. Once we finished, I printed out the shiny new resume and stared at it for a few moments.
"Okay, so my alias is Linda Danvers. Man, Clark, I don't know, I still think that name sounds pretty lame; can't I have an alliterative name like yours and Lois's? Like…Linda…Lang?" I felt like I'd heard that name before somewhere, but it just seemed to flow. Kal obviously didn't share in the enthusiasm as he peered at me over his glasses.
"Seriously Kara? That's my ex from high school." He said to me rather matter of factly and my eyebrows shot to the ceiling.
"Right! Bad idea…um Laurel…Lance?" Again, a name I felt like I heard before, but the alliterations just kept on flowing. Kal pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with a sigh.
"That…was the original Black Canary, Kara –your name is Linda Danvers. Printed. Done deal. You'll also need these." He reached into his desk and produced a pair of black rimmed glasses similar to his, but more petite. I stared at them, feeling bile start to work its way up my throat.
"Clark…please, I am just not a glasses wearing kind of gal." I looked at him pleadingly as he rose to slip the glasses onto my face with a smile.
"Exactly, all the more reason to wear them. You look great, like a cute librarian or something." He commented as I nearly choked on my spit upon hearing my cousin call me a 'cute librarian'. I rose from my seat to peer at myself in a nearby mirror, and honestly…I could rock these.
"Alright, so we e-mailed your resume about half an hour ago, so hopefully, if all goes well, you should hear something back by tom-," Kal's words were cut short as my cell phone started ringing. I answered to a pleasant woman's voice with a British accent asking for, 'Linda Danvers'. Time to put on Smooth Supergirl I thought as I sat down in Kal's office chair, idly spinning in it.
"This is she." The woman continued to tell me that they were extremely impressed with my resume and wanted to have me come in tomorrow morning for an interview with Mr. Wayne. I politely accepted and thanked her for her time and attention and ended the call.
"That was Ms. Lancaster; I am cordially invited to attend an interview meeting with Mr. Wayne at 0900 hours in the morn of tomorrow." I said with my most pompous, annoying voice that I could possibly muster. Kal just rolled his eyes as he reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet.
"Great. Make sure you actually wear something professional; don't forget your glasses, and do be sure to give Mr. Wayne my regards." He said with a wink as he handed me a hundred dollar bill.