Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
Here Prologue & Part 1 Part 2***************
The Daily Planet***************
Clark knew he should have called the previous Friday for an interview with Perry White, but he hadn’t, so, it was lucky that he was able to get one on Wednesday morning. He should have remembered that he had written to the Daily Planet’s editor a month before he scheduled his first and only interview with the illustrious editor in chief of the newspaper.
At least, with the delay, Clark had been able to contact his old professor and implant the false memory of his former student, Clark Kent, should his reference be checked by personnel. Of course, it had come as a shock for Clark to discover that in this dimension Professor Carlton was not teaching at Kansas State, but at Midwest U. He had to change his resume to fit his reference. He added this new lie to all the others for which he would have to atone.
He sat in the familiar office with his new boss, confident in his chances. When he had first interviewed with the man, Perry had been impressed by his language skills, his portfolio, and his world knowledge, hiring him on the spot. Of course, Clark had to thin down his old writing samples to articles from more obscure newspapers on generic topics that could be covered in either dimension. Plus, he had to remove all the articles he wrote
while working for the Daily Planet in his dimension.
“That’s right, Professor Carlton called me about you. I haven’t seen him in…” This Perry White looked over his resume. “Let’s see here. Editor, Smallville Press. Where’s that?”
“Kansas, Mr. White,” Clark explained, reminding himself that he wasn’t on a first name basis with this editor. Luckily, the Smallville Press had gone out of business and didn’t have anyone who could verify Clark’s employment records.
Mr. White’s phone rang, and he held up a finger to answer it. Clark waited patiently. He knew that Perry always answered his phone, because it could be front page information. “Oh, tell him to keep his pants on…” Clark’s future boss shouted. Guess it wasn’t world news. “If Carlini’s can’t deliver on time, find a place that can!” Perry started to take his pulse, glancing over at Clark. “Can you believe I had to buy a blood pressure monitor last week?”
Clark nodded. Yep, same man. “Paava leaves.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Yolngu tribe in New Guinea eat paava leaves to relieve stress. It puts them in a meditative state. Maybe you should try it,” Clark suggested, just as he had to the Mr. White over in his dimension. Small universe.
“Oh, well, I see you’ve done some traveling.”
“Well…” Clark said with a smile and shrug. If the man only knew how much he had really traveled. “A bit.” He opened his briefcase to pull out his writing samples. “I have some samples of my work.”
“Oh, good,” replied Mr. White, taking the papers from Clark. “Good. Let’s take a look.” He paused at the first one. “The Borneo Gazette: ‘
Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko’?” He swallowed. “Kent, I’m sure these are fascinating stories, but you see, son, this is the Daily Planet…” he started to say, when a woman with a dark brunette bob burst into his office. “Lois! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” He indicated Clark.
Without knowing he did so, Clark levitated out of his seat. Quickly, he set his feet on the floor so it appeared that he had only stood up as courtesy to her. His eyes sought out hers for the brief half a partial second she allowed, before she returned her focus to her boss.
Lois Lane.
Clark had been thinking about this interview so completely he had forgotten that he might actually see her. He was completely unprepared in how this chance meeting slammed him in the chest like a wrecking ball.
Lois nodded to Clark, immediately dismissing him. “I think there’s a story here. I think we should have this guy checked out, you know the crazy one from this morning. He was an engineer at EPRAD…”
Clark’s heart which had rose with anticipation of this meeting thudded into his shoes as he sat himself back down. He wasn’t even worth a second glance from the woman of his dreams. What was he doing here? Maybe Wells was right. Maybe the connection wasn’t with
every Lois.
“Lois, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”
Then her eyes darted back to Clark as Perry introduced them and Clark got to his feet again. “Lois Lane… Cl…”
“Chuck, isn’t it?” she asked.
Chuck? Clark held out his hand. “Clark,” he corrected. “Clark Kent.”
She ignored his hand as she studied him with more interest than her earlier brush off had implied she ever would. “I know you,” she said, pointing at him. “I don’t know from where, but you seem awfully familiar.”
Clark blanched. They didn’t know each other. He had never met
this Lois before. He smiled to cover this guffaw. “Perhaps in a previous life,” he teased.
“A previous life where you were named Chuck?” She laughed.
He loved her already. How could he not? She was more beautiful than he remembered the other Lois looking. Her hair was styled differently, longer. Fortunately, that instantaneous connection he had felt before, was still there.
“So, Chief, are you hiring Chuck?” she asked Perry. “’Cause I could use him on my team, like an hour ago. I have a lot of research to wade through.”
Perry pointed at her with two fingers and then out the door behind him. “You can’t be in here…”
A staffer knocked on the window and pointed to Lois, making the international hand signal for telephone. Oh, God! Jimmy Olsen!
Clark fell into his chair, his heart stopping and all the glee at meeting Lois momentarily knocked out of him, as he looked at the kid as if he were a ghost. The original James Olsen was alive and well in this dimension. Of course he was; it was only 1993. This man worked at the Daily Planet just as his friend Jimmy had; his friend who he hadn’t been able to save. Clark gulped. He had never been able to solve Jimmy’s murder, except to learn that it had been a hit orchestrated by some shadowy underworld figure known as “The Boss”. Clark and Perry had hoped to tie “The Boss” to Tempus, but never had. It had been one of the main reasons the new James Olsen – software whiz-kid – had bought the Daily Planet, in hopes of solving his cousin’s murder. Would Clark get a second chance to save his friend as well? This time, thanks to Superman, he wouldn’t chicken out revealing his powers. Of course, he hadn’t known he was bulletproof at that point.
His eyes returned to Lois in time to see her nod to Jimmy to acknowledge that she understood that she had a telephone call. “I’ve got to go. Nice meeting you, Chuck,” she said with a wave to Clark. “Again.” She shut the door on her exit.
“I tell ya, if that woman wasn’t the best damn investigative reporter I’ve ever seen, I’d…” Mr. White went back to checking his heart rate, before remembering why Clark was there. “Look, Kent, I’m sure you’re an intelligent guy, but you can’t just walk in here with this kind of resume and expect a job.”
Clark realized that this interview wasn’t going in the direction he expected. “Mr. White, I know those aren’t the best samples, but I’m a good writer, a hard worker, and I do have experience…” He had been doing the job for the past four years.
“Kent,” Mr. White interrupted him. “Kent, I just don’t have anything for you, son.”
He hadn’t been hired?Clark thanked Perry for the opportunity of interviewing him and shook his hand. He left the man’s office, stunned. Clark wasn’t usually an egotistical man, never one to coast through anything. It had been stupid for him to assume that he would get the job just because he had in his dimension. He shut Perry’s office door behind him, stopping to stare out into the newsroom with regret and loss.
What was he supposed to do now? The Daily Planet had been Clark’s life – his home – for the past four years. Did he really want to be in this dimension working somewhere else? Was there anyplace else nearby – so as to keep him close to Lois – where Clark Kent could work? Would she even talk to him, let alone date him, if he worked for the
Gotham Gazette or
The New York Times? Probably not.
The Metropolis Star was the closest newspaper, but he hoped never to be
that desperate for a paycheck.
Clark started moving towards the exit. He spied Lois at her desk on the telephone and his reluctant steps slowed. At least he could salvage something from today. She hung up the phone. It was now or never.
“Yes?” Lois asked as she noticed him standing there.
“Would you like to have lunch with me?” he asked.
She hesitated less than a brief moment, enough only for him to perceive, but not anyone else, before swinging around to go through the files on her desk. “Rule number one: I don’t date people I work with.”
Clark continued to stand there, not really wanting to admit to Lois that he didn’t get the job. Yet, he didn’t want to leave either.
Lois turned back around and saw him still standing there. “You didn’t get the job, did you, Chuck?”
He sighed. “Clark.”
“That’s too bad. I could have used an extra researcher on this story.”
Perry’s door flew open. “Lois! Where’s that mood piece on the razing of that old theatre on 42nd Street that I assigned you?”
She beamed at him. “I wasn’t in the mood.”
“Lois, honey, this is a newspaper. You may be my star reporter, but you don’t get to pick and choose your stories!” Perry slammed his door.
Lois groaned and then noticed that Clark was still next to her desk, waiting for an answer. He knew by how distracted she was what her reply would be, but he couldn’t leave. Not if he had a one out of a million shot that she would say ‘yes’, he couldn’t leave.
“I brought my lunch,” she informed him. “Anyway, how are you going to afford to take me out without a job?”
“Kick a man while he’s down, why don’t you, Lois?” Jimmy mumbled, passing by and dropping a file on her desk.
“Jimmy, is this the research on the Messenger program?”
“Yep,” replied the young man, already two desks away.
Clark missed his friend Jimmy, and felt a dull ache that he wouldn’t get a chance to get to know him or this Lois or this Perry or this Daily Planet better or to be on hand to protect Jimmy, all of them.
He also didn’t know why he was still standing next to Lois’ desk like a lump of coal.
Lois looked up at him again. “I’m sorry, Chuck. I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I really don’t date reporters – employed or not.”
He nodded, understanding.
Suddenly, Clark was curious what her answer would have been if he had asked her while in the blue Suit, before remembering that nobody in this dimension knew about Superman. Her answer probably would have been the same; it was a ridiculous skintight blue Suit, cape, outfit with shorts! She would never want to date a man dressed like that. “It was good to see you again, Lois,” he said, not sure if she had heard him.
He headed out of the bullpen and up to the elevators. He never took the elevator, but today, he just couldn't find it in his heart to use the stairs. He felt like taking another one of his citywide walks to figure out what he was going to do next. Nothing was working out like he had hoped. He scoffed to himself at that thought as the elevator door closed and shut off his last view of Lois Lane.
Clark wondered – as he pushed out the front doors of the Daily Planet building – what had changed between the two interviews? What had he done differently? He had been hungrier, more in awe of Perry White and the Daily Planet during the first interview. More nervous. More unsure of his chances. Had that made the difference between being hired and not? This time he knew he could do the job. Hell, he had
done the job for the past four years… well, three years before he became Superman full time. Had his confidence come off as cocky?
Lois Lane. He sighed. He had no idea what to do about these all-consuming feelings he had for her. After all, she had made him Superman. Well, not
her per se, but…
Clark dropped his head into his hand.
Lois Lane! That had been the difference. In his dimension, his Daily Planet had been short of reporters because Lois Lane had disappeared. What he needed to do was find a way to make himself indispensable to this Perry and the Daily Planet. He would worry about changing Lois’ mind about him another time.
*********
Lois Lane*********
Lois sat in bed and nibbled on popcorn and what was left of her microwave dinner.
She had been asked on a date. This very morning, some man had been interested in her and had asked her out to lunch. She had wanted to tell Lucy, when her younger sister had once more started in on Lois’ lack of a social life, but for some reason Lois hadn’t mentioned the handsome man with dark hair and glasses who had shown no fear of her and actually asked her on a date.
If she hadn’t been distracted by the Platt story about the Messenger sabotage… If he had asked her out for dinner and not lunch… If he hadn’t been another blood-sucking reporter… If he hadn’t been unemployed… Lois sighed. If she hadn’t been tempted to say yes…
Lois had no idea why she had been tempted. She knew nothing about the man, but there was something there, something intangible, something distinctive, something familiar.
He had claimed that they had never met. He had joked that she had known him in a past life. Had she?
Oh, now, that was just plain ridiculous. She shook her head at her wayward thoughts and clicked her VCR to start her soap opera from today, fast-forwarding over the credits. The ‘Ivory Tower’ had all the romance that Lois needed in her life. The blonde woman was telling the man she would sleep with him, but not give him her heart.
She sighed in envy.
That was what Lois wanted: to love so deeply that even if her true love died, she would still love him until the end of time, even if another man came along who wanted her. Tears came to her eyes and, for a reason Lois didn’t understand, she began to cry. It was at that moment, she realized the reason.
She would never love that deeply.
Never find a man she could love like that.
Never find a man to love her like that.
There was no ‘super man’ like Lucy wanted her to find.
He didn’t exist.
Lois’ tears turned to sobs.
***
Lois leaned against the door frame to Perry’s office. The Chief was reading a story – her story. Her story that the cute guy she met yesterday morning – Chuck, or whatever his name was – had stolen from her. Her story about the destruction of that old theatre. True, he had written a beautiful article, but that didn’t stop the fact that he had stolen
her assignment. Okay, it was a story she hadn’t wanted to write, when she had Platt’s papers and then possible, now definite, Messenger sabotage story to focus on.
“Lois?” Perry verbally nudged her.
What did he expect her to say? That she should admit Chuck, here, wrote a better mood piece than her? Like she would ever admit to such a fact. Not that it was a fact. It wasn’t. She
could have written just as good of an article, if not better, if she had wanted to, but she hadn’t. She had more important stuff to work on.
“It’s okay,” Lois conceded, only since Perry appeared like he wasn’t in the mood to accept anything but praise for Chuck’s story, especially at her expense. “If you like that sort of thing.”
“You know, Kent, there is only one more thing that I value more than experience and that’s initiative. Welcome to the Daily Planet,” Perry said, holding out his hand to Chuck. “Clark Kent.”
Clark? Wasn’t this guy’s name Chuck?
Clark – Chuck – whoever shook Perry’s hand. It was official. He worked there now. Rule number one was back on in full force. Too bad, Chuck had been cute. Well, okay, he was still cute. He had potential, but now he was one of
them: a story-stealing co-reporter. His cute-factor just dissolved into nothingness.
“Jimmy!” her boss called to her researcher, only to find the man behind him. “Show Kent here around.”
Kent? What
was this guy’s name? How many names did he have, anyway? He better not steal Jimmy away from her too.
“Sure, Chief,” replied Jimmy, waving what’s-his-name to follow. “Come on.”
“Perry,” Lois said, stepping all the way into his office and closing the door after they left. “It looks like the Messenger explosion is going to be a big story. I’m going to need a task force on this,” she admitted. She and Jimmy were going to need assistance going through all those mess of papers, especially in light that Platt had been right, and the Messenger had indeed exploded. “I can’t cover this story alone.”
“Take Jimmy,” Perry suggested. That wasn’t help, she already had Jimmy.
“Chief, we’re talking about the space program,” she reminded him. “This is huge. I need a real reporter.”
“Okay, take Kent.”
“Who?” she asked and then she realized he meant the new guy who had just walked out of his office. “What about Meyerson?”
“He’s busy,” Perry informed her without really paying attention.
“Burns?”
“Budapest.”
“Forget Kent,” she said.
“Uh-uh. He’s a good man,” the Chief informed her.
No! “Chuck?” She pointed over her shoulder out the door. Was that really his name? “Perry, he stole my assignment,” she reminded him.
“If I remember correctly, you ‘weren’t in the mood’,” her boss refreshed her memory.
“He asked me out,” she explained.
Perry grinned. “Shows that he’s brave.”
Lois shot her boss a glare.
“Or really stupid. I’m sure once he gets to know you, that won’t happen again.”
Her mouth pressed into a line.
Funny.Perry obviously thought so. “It’s Kent or nobody,” he said.
Terrific. Lois crossed her arms, trying to look strong, but the action was really in defeat. She didn’t want ‘Kent’, but she needed somebody. “Fine. Kent it is, then.” She turned to storm out of his office. “Don’t ever say that I’m not a team player,” she said with a flip of her wrist.
This was like Claude all over again. She grabbed her briefcase out from under her desk. “Chuck, you’re with me,” she said, slapping him on the arm as she walked past him.
The new guy and Jimmy exchanged a look, before he grabbed his jacket and followed her. “Do you mind if I ask where we’re going?”
“To interview Samuel Platt. He was convinced the Messenger was sabotaged. I’ll brief you on the way.”
“Clark,” he corrected her again as he followed her to the elevators.
Did it really matter if she learned his name? It wasn’t like he’d make it through the week. That theatre piece, she was sure, was just a fluke. “What you need to remember is that
I’m the senior reporter.
I call the shots.
I ask the questions; you listen and don’t speak. You’re not working
with me, but
for me. I’m in charge, and you follow my lead. You’re the low man.
I’m top banana and that’s the way I like it. Comprehende?”
“You like to be on top. Got it,” he replied with deadpan expression.
Oh, he better not have meant that in the way it sounded. “Don’t push me, Chuck. You’re way out of your league,” she warned him. Cocky. Just what she needed.
***
Lois bit her tongue.
Very attractive? He thought Antoinette Baines was
very attractive? What happened to the man who had asked
her on a date just the previous morning? Not that Lois wanted Clark – damn, she remembered his name – to still find her attractive. They were working together now, so that could get awkward.
“Young for a woman in her position,” Kent continued.
Double damn. She remembered his last name. “Typical,” she retorted. “A man sees an okay-looking woman, who isn’t advanced in years, in a position of power, and he automatically thinks she must have slept her way to the top.”
“Defensive much, there, Lois? I wasn’t talking about you,” he clarified, smiling.
“I knew that!” she snapped, angry at herself for being mollified by his words. “Of course
I didn’t sleep my way to the top. I clawed my way up with hard work and determination.” Why was she defending herself to this guy?
“I don’t doubt it.”
Oh, this guy was smooth. She decided to move the topic back to the subject at hand. “I think Dr. Baines is hiding something.”
“What gives you that idea?” he inquired, holding open the door of the shuttle van for Lois.
Did men still do that? Probably in Kansas. Damn, Clark was bringing Kansas up instead of that hick state bringing him down. She growled and took the best seat available in the shuttle.
“Reporter’s instinct,” she responded, not wanting to give him the real reason.
A woman of Dr. Baines’ age and attractive level didn’t make it to the top of a scientific field ruled by men when she dressed the way the good Dr. Baines did. Plus, the way the scientist kept eyeing Clark like he was a piece of chocolate as opposed to concentrating her answers to Lois, who was lead reporter, showed that Dr. Baines didn’t have her mind on her job as much as her next bed partner. In conclusion, the woman reminded Lois of Cat Grant. Unfortunately, since it was more woman’s intuition than reporter’s instinct, Lois decided not to clarify.
The sooner she finished this story, the better. She really wasn’t a team player.
***
Clark sat down at his new desk and flipped open the phone book, so it wouldn’t be so obvious that he was listening in on Lois’ phone call two desks away. He couldn’t be happier with his desk assignment. He had a perfect view of Lois’ desk. Of course, this view would be equally distracting as well. Good thing his super senses would allow him to multitask.
Lois’ date for some party was canceling at the last minute due to the sniffles. What was wrong with that guy? Mentally that was, not physically. Some men couldn’t recognize a rattlesnake until it bit them on the rear end.
Speaking of which, Cat Grant’s said body part slid onto the corner of his desk, effectively blocking his view of Lois. Clark knew what was coming next. He had been able to avoid Cat’s advances by introducing a photo of Lana onto his desk on that first day four years ago. No such luck in this dimension. He had been avoiding this Cat after overhearing her ‘who’s the new tight end’ comment earlier.
Cat held out her hand. “Cat Grant,
Cat’s Corner.”
Clark shook her hand despite her bending it over, inviting a kiss instead. “Clark Kent.” He hoped his tone had been friendly, yet dismissing. No such luck.
“I know what it’s like to be new in town, not knowing anyone. I’d be happy to show you around,” Cat cooed.
He leaned back in his chair, not only to increase the distance between them but to allow himself to see Lois at her desk again. He raised a brow and caught Cat’s eye. “I’ve read your column, Miss Grant,” he informed her.
“Cat!” she said, bearing her claws.
Uh-huh. “And I happen to know that you aren’t new in town. In fact, you were born and raised in Metropolis, weren’t you?”
She purred with a preen. “You’ve been doing your homework.”
Crap! That had backfired.
Lois was now off the phone and eyeing the two of them with disgust.
“Thank you for the offer, Cat. I’ll keep it under consideration,” he replied.
Cat’s face fell, knowing a brush off when she heard one. She glanced over her shoulder at Lois who was back on the phone and then back at Clark. “I guess some worms prefer early birds to night owls.”
Clark blanched. Was his interest in Lois that obvious?
“
When you change your mind…” Cat said before sashaying off, just in time for Lois to slam down her phone.
Lois was upset. He wondered why. Clark went back to his faux study of the phone book, trying to look nonchalant.
“Do you have a tux?” Lois inquired, suddenly next to his desk. Interesting segue. Was she asking him out?
“Yes,” he replied automatically and without thinking.
“You do?” Lois sounded surprise.
He
did have a tux. Lana had made him buy one while they were dating – that woman did enjoy her charitable functions. Only he had left it hanging in his closet back in the other dimension. Since acquiring the blue Suit, the tux hadn’t been needed. “I can get one,” he amended.
“My date has the flu,” Lois told him.
So he had heard.
And? he asked with his eyes.
“Do you or don’t you?” she demanded.
“Do I or don’t I,
what?” For a reporter, she was really being obtuse.
“Want to go?”
Of course he did, but he didn’t want to seem too eager or too interested. “Where?”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Lex Luthor’s White Orchid Ball.”
Clark must have made some kind of face at Luthor’s name.
“It’s the party of the year. Anyone who’s anyone will be there,” she defended.
“He’s pretentious,” Clark replied.
“He’s the greatest philanthropist Metropolis has ever seen, and I’m going to land the first one-on-one interview with him.”
“True philanthropy is anonymous. Luthor would put his name on underwear and hand it out to the homeless if it got him press.” Okay, that sounded bitter even to his ears.
“Oh. You’re one of
those guys,” she said, returning to her desk.
“What guys?” he inquired, fearing he wasn’t going to get the full invitation after all.
“A person who prejudges someone before meeting him,” she explained.
“Who’s prejudging?” Clark said. “Me, who doesn’t like a guy for putting on airs, or you for thinking he’s the end-all be-all without proof?”
Lois pressed her lips together. Oh, dear. Had he refuted her argument too strongly?
“Nine o’clock, Luthor Towers, and we’ll see who’s right,” she told him. “And who’s buying me coffee tomorrow.”
Now, that sounded like a date. Clark couldn’t help but smile. “I thought you didn’t date co-workers? Rule number one, wasn’t it?”
Lois stood up, strode the four steps to his desk, and stuck a finger in his face. “
This…” She pointed between them. “— isn’t a date.
This is business.”
Was that what it was called in this dimension? Sounded like a date to him.
*** End of Part 2 *** Part 3 Comments
