Just so you know...I'm supposed to be going to sleep now. I have to get up really early in the morning. I'm blaming any sleep deprivation on you and your story.
He couldn’t believe he was here: The Daily Planet.
Yay! I was hoping you'd bring us here.
He indicated Clark, who was rising out of his seat.
Lois Lane. She was even more beautiful than she had been all those years ago.
Well, teenage years aren't kind to us all. All that awkwardness and stuff.
He still loved her on second sight.
Awww! You made me melt!
He always knew she was what he wanted.
Awww!
Lois’s eyes widened as a grin appeared, and she grabbed Clark hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. “Clark Kent? The Clark Kent? Of course, you are. What an honor to finally meet you.”
Awesomeness!
“Yes, the Clark Kent. I’ve been following his career for years,” Lois said, grabbing his portfolio out of Mr. White’s hands.
She had? Why? Did she remember him?
Perfect ruse to get him the job?
You really should put that story about catching those Jamaican gunrunners towards the top. It was amazing, even though it was one of your early stories.
She really *did* follow his work! Yay!
“And, of course, Mr. Kent is the one who scooped me on the Congolese gun runners. I arrived two days after he left.” She shot him a scowl.
I *do* love the idea of them interacting in the Congo. I've read one or two fics that delt with that premise.
Clark’s jaw hung open. His portfolio, she was completely disorganizing it.
*That's* what unhinges his jaw? Tsk tsk, Clark!
Yes? And she wants to see him in the copy room, ASAP?
Mr. White pointed at Lois again. “You, out.”
Ooops?
“You should give him that theatre piece, on trial. He’ll prove himself to you,” Lois said, not budging.
Ah, was wondering if/how that would be worked in.
“And? That mushy stuff is his forte, anyway,” Lois said, heading for the door.
As in she remembers ALL about you, Clark.
“Just give him the job already; I need him to help me with the Messenger story,” Lois said, not backing down.
“Honestly, no, sir, but I’d die for the chance,” Clark replied, figuring what a pleasant death it would be. Thank goodness, he hadn’t found anything that could harm him.
Oh, really? Clark smiled, liking that description. Wait. “Secret weapon?”
She grinned. “By the way, tell your mom I just finished all the jam she sent me for Christmas.”
“You contacted my mom?”
What a wonderful, wonderful tale filled with WAFFy goodness! I bow to your skills!
