Step Six: Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Perry inhaled the cool dawn air and looked eastward. Pink streaks in the blue sky heralded the approach of sunrise and forecast a beautiful day. There wasn't yet enough light to reflect off the Art-Deco doors of the Daily Planet building. He smiled as he pushed the doors open.
"I'm back," he whispered to himself.
It was curiously satisfying. Sure, he was stuck in the basement (for now, he told himself). And he would be working his way up from the bottom. But he'd done that before and he could do it again.
It didn't hurt that his nemesis, Pauline Kahn, had finally retired. When Perry got wind of the news, he pulled strings and stroked his contacts with all his might. Sam McWatters had proven a good friend – he'd made sure that the Planet did indeed have room for a sober Perry White.
Perry quietly walked into the basement newsroom. The maze of cluttered desks, file cabinets, and tables would have confused a newcomer. But Perry welcomed the sight.
His eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of a figure at one of the desks – the only person, besides himself, in the deserted room. Perry had deliberately come here early to be first, so he could see his colleagues-to-be. The other, alerted by some small sound Perry had made, turned to face him.
"Ms Sullivan," Perry said in almost-surprise. It made sense. Perry knew that Chloe Sullivan was working at the Planet. And based on what he'd seen of her work in Smallville, and the articles she'd had published in the Metropolis newspaper, she worked hard. And hadn't Clark Kent said he met with her late too? It figured she'd be here early.
"Mr. White," she replied after a moment. Unlike Clark Kent, she hadn't seen him numerous times since the Smallville episode. However, they had crossed glances last week when Perry was in for his interview and paperwork, so he knew his presence wouldn't be a total surprise to her.
"Please, call me Perry," he said, advancing to her and offering his hand. "Since we're to be colleagues here in the basement."
She gave a wry smile at that as she shook his hand. "Only if you call me Chloe," she said. "When I hear people call me "Ms Sullivan", I always feel I'm back in school and the principal is about to scold me."
"Well, I'm over that by now," Perry said lightly. There was an awkward silence. Then they both moved to fill it.
"So, you're back at the Planet," she said.
"Maybe you could tell me something about the other reporters here," Perry said simultaneously.
They each broke off and, meeting each other's gazes, broke into laughter.
Perry went first. "Yeah, I started going to AA and got my life in order, and well, I'm back." Might as well get that out right away.
Chloe only raised her eyebrows at that. "Well, there's about fifteen to twenty semi-regulars that hang out here in the basement – interns, externs, junior photographers and research newbies, cub reporters, you name it." Perry nodded. "Don't you know who they are already?" Chloe asked him challengingly.
Oh, she was good. She knew there was no way Perry the Pit Bull would come into a Planet job without doing some spadework. Perry raised his eyebrows in turn. He did know a bit about all the reporters at the Planet. What interested him was that Chloe knew that he knew.
"Well, I spent most of my research time on the personnel on the upper floors," Perry said, mostly truthfully. "I mean, most of my contemporaries have moved on or out of this floor."
Chloe gave a wry grimace at that. For a moment, its significance escaped Perry. Then he realized – she must have been here in the basement almost three years now. That was unusual. If you were bad, you got fired. If you were mediocre, you got encouraged to look elsewhere, or you got fired, or you quit after you realized you weren't going to make it up to the Tiffany-lamp floors. But if you were good – and Perry thought that Chloe Sullivan was good – you'd move upstairs in a lesser time than three years. Eighteen months to two years seemed to be about the maximum time. Why hadn't Chloe moved upward? Perry mentally promised himself an investigation.
He kept a poker face. Chloe turned and walked to the first desk in her row. "This is Bob Newsom's desk. He's an intern at Met U…" She went around the room, naming the occupant of each station, giving a little detail about each person. It impressed Perry, how much Chloe Sullivan knew about each colleague.
And two other things impressed him. One: she obviously knew more about each fellow reporter than she was telling him. Chloe only gave him easily-obtained data, nothing that would invade privacy. She could keep her own counsel.
And two: Perry had an idea that, although Chloe knew a lot about her fellow reporters, they knew little about her, other than the façade she chose to present. It was a good façade, Perry allowed; but meeting Chloe Sullivan in Smallville four years ago – a younger, less cautious Chloe Sullivan – gave Perry a different perspective.
It didn't take them long to go through the basement staff. Perry made mental notes from what Chloe had told him, comparing it with the skeleton knowledge he'd gotten before coming in.
"Thanks," Perry said to her. "Now, I've got to get settled in." He picked up his briefcase and coffee cup from her desk, walked over to the desk Chloe had indicated was for him, and set his items down. Despite his outward calm, he trembled inside. He was back at the Daily Planet! Then he swore quietly as his coffee cup rolled off and underneath the desk.
He bent down to get it. Drat! He was going to have to crawl. Maybe this was a bad omen. Perry slowly got down on hands and knees (it was a lot more troublesome to do this than it had been twenty years ago) and worked his way back. Of course, the cup had rolled to the maximum inconvenient distance. He grabbed it, and took a minute to catch his breath. Man, he was getting out of shape. Kind of a good view from here, though – he could see the bottom of the doors, and most of the other desks, and Chloe Sullivan's feet and ankles.
Perry started backing out when something at the corner of his eye attracted his attention. He looked again. Now that was interesting. Suddenly there were two sets of legs to be seen – not only Sullivan's neatly shod, interesting-looking gams, but another, obviously male, set decked out in muddy boots and blue jeans. The footwear wasn't all that interesting. What was interesting about it was that Perry hadn't seen the other feet walk through the door and to Sullivan's desk.
Perry worked his way out and stood up slowly. Of course. It had to be Clark Kent.
"Clark!" Perry said, in a friendly fashion, approaching the young man. "Don't you have to be milking those cows at this hour?" he asked, needling Clark.
"Um, Perry," Clark replied. "I didn't see you…" Then, collecting himself, he said dismissively, "Oh, the cows are fine."
Chloe took control of the conversation, addressing her remarks to Clark. "Mr. White is – "
"Perry," Perry said firmly.
" – Perry is back at the Planet, Clark," Chloe explained. "He's going to be with me and the others in the basement."
Judging from Clark's expression, the thought didn't fill him with glee. Then Clark got his face under control and reached out to shake Perry's hand.
"Congratulations," Clark said. "I know that the Planet is the only place to be. Chloe's taught me that." He dodged a playful swat from Chloe. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you're doing OK."
"Oh, just an occasional headache," Perry riposted. Really, there was something funny-peculiar about Clark, and Perry just couldn't resist needling him. At times.
Clark winced slightly.
"But I guess I have you to thank for the body work on my car," Perry continued.
"What?" Chloe asked.
"You might not have heard that I – and my car – were caught in a collapse of a condemned building a few weeks ago," Perry said. "I got a concussion, and I was afraid that my car got crushed. But when I got out of the hospital, it was waiting for me there, looking better than it did for about, oh, the last five years. And, since I don't think the Car Repair Fairy is making house calls, it must have been Clark. With the persistence borne of years of successful investigative reporting, I got him to admit it."
Chloe glared at Clark. "You could have told me!"
Clark skittered backwards a few steps. "You were busy."
Perry took pity on him. "What brings you here so early in the morning, Mr. Kent?"
Clark blinked, brought back to himself. "Oh, I brought Chloe a coffee." He handed her the insulated cup in his hand.
Chloe opened the lid and sniffed the rising stream. She took a sip. "Clark, you're forgiven."
"Gee, thanks." Clark gave her a shy smile.
Perry caught the gaze they shared. No doubt about it. They were smitten. Why else would he drive ninety minutes from Smallville to bring her a coffee? Why else would she look at him that way?
For once, the lovebirds didn't raise the usual gut ache in him. After weeks of pestering Alice, she'd finally let him have his say. Perry had used all his eloquence in apologizing. She still hadn't forgiven him, but at least they were talking now. Perry had come to realize, after he'd gotten sober, that Alice was the only woman for him. The suffering he'd put her through had only made her stronger. If he could only win Alice back….
"Well, you've got to get back to the cows, Clark," Chloe said, still looking at him.
"Oh, right," Clark said.
"Walk you to your truck, Clark?" Perry suggested.
Clark looked flustered. "Oh, it's parked a few blocks away….don't you have to get settled in here?"
Chloe chimed in. "Oh, yeah, Perry, I haven't shown you the fine array of vending machines - the sustenance for us basement workers - yet."
Perry nodded. The two were working a full-court press. They definitely didn't want him to go with Clark. "OK. Have a good time with the cows."
Clark and Chloe both grinned and Perry belatedly realized what he said could be misconstrued.
"Um…I mean, good luck on the farm today, Clark." A lame recovery.
"Sure. And good luck back at the Planet," Clark said, gripping his hand. Perry watched the tall figure exit through the swinging doors.
"Vending machines? Is there coffee?" Perry said, interrupting Chloe's gaze at the departing friend.
"Yeah, just in the hall here…" he followed Chloe as she chattered on. Perry thought about two small things. One: he hadn't seen Clark enter through the swinging doors. But those doors were the only entrance open this time of day. It was like Clark had just appeared at Sullivan's desk. And secondly, the cup of coffee Clark had given to Chloe had come from the Smallville coffee house, the Talon. It said so, right on the coffee cup. And the coffee in the cup was still hot.
Perry sighed and added those two items to the mental file he was composing on Clark Kent.
