Hi Amanda!
Today’s story is a standalone fic (for now… maybe), unrelated to TNTCA.
(Wonders if reader should read parens both forward and backward. After all, who knows in which universe LnC will end up when they jump from TNTCA)
It sounds like a riff on the sci-fi movie District 9. It could also be the Hunger Games…
But finding a permanent home hinged on being able to find permanent employment – a goal which had proved nearly impossible for him over the last four years.
Too much of a flake, huh?
He had decided to apply to the Daily Planet at the insistence of a friend, whom he had met at a journalism conference a few months ago.
Interesting. No specification about the pronoun. But would Lois be called a “friend”?
“This is some mighty fine reporting you’ve done here.”
The inside life of a knob-tailed gecko family.
slammed open and a human whirlwind blew in, pushing aside Clark’s portfolio to lay her own sheaf of papers front and center on the desk.
Awww, just like the tornados back home, depositing the neighbor’s Buick on the Kent barn.
The small tornado gesticulated wildly as she spoke, effortlessly making herself the center of attention.
Clark bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling. She hadn’t changed a bit.
I’ll admit, you had me wondering for a bit. On the one hand, you overindulged the stormy weather metaphors, on the other, “friend” and “tornado” didn’t seem to fit. Which means the poor guy already got a crush on his “friend”.
LOIS: Got to finish that story before mandatory maternity leave kicks in.
“Lois! Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?
LOIS:
to argue that her story was more important, no doubt.
But she didn’t get that far.
“Clark! You’re here! You applied? Oh, this is just perfect! I need you on my team for this. Perry, you have to hired him.”
Awww… she’s bubbly!
. “Ah, yes. I seem to recall you saying he was the only reporter who could keep up with you, the only one you’d accept as a partner.”
Oooh, this could be a fun ploy to remaining a free agent. Set an impossible goal for her boss to meet for finding her a partner. Then it backfires.
He had to force his mind not to wander back to those delightful evenings they had spent together at the conference.
“evening”, huh?
CLARK: a night also starts with an “evening”
She fascinated him on every level.
/chooses to interpret level as horizontal slices/
“Meet me at my desk when you’re done in here.”
It would be awkward if he didn’t get the job.
. “Sorry, about that. Lois is a force to be reckoned with.”
Yes, she needs a super man to keep up with her.
Clark wondered what the older man was thinking.
PERRY: Would a set of new lock picks be an appropriate wedding gift…?
Did he realize that Clark was attracted to his top reporter?
PERRY: Friaz can cover for them for two weeks if they finish her current story and schedule the honeymoon before they mayoral debate next month…
Just what was the Daily Planet’s policy on interoffice dating?
/points at the scheduling calendar for the supply closet/
Would Lois even agree to go on another date with him?
Only if he can fly. Also, “another”!!!
“The Daily Planet could certainly use a writer with your strengths.”
Able to withstand Lois Lane?
. “Welcome to the Daily Planet, Mr. Kent.”
No way. He really got the job? I did not expect this.
A glowing, green letter K stood out plainly against the otherwise black metal.
What the…?
Also, it’s his wrist klock.
“Is, uh, is that what I think it is?”
Clark sighed again but forced himself to meet the editor’s gaze steadily. “Yes, sir.”
“So, you’re a… uh…”
Eeeeeeeeep!
“Will this…” he lifted his arm slightly. “…affect my being hired?”
Mr. White leaned back slowly and let out a heavy breath of his own. “You know, son, I really wish I could say it doesn’t. However, the newspaper board…”
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Perry better not have given you something else.”
He got advice. The National Whisper is hiring little green men.
“No. Lois, you don’t understand. I didn’t get the job.”
Three… two… one…
“What?! How could you not get the job? Perry was practically salivating over the idea of my finally accepting a partner.”
“Perry, what is this? Why didn’t you hire Clark?”
Angry Lois is cute!
You’ve read his work. Surely you can see that he’s perfect for the Daily Planet.”
Yes, he’d be… super.
“You’re Kryptonian?” she whispered.
Yes. He’s one of those equipped with an impressive body and sophisticated skills in professional caregiving.
He’d never expected that any human woman could accept him for what he was – an alien.
Hey, it’s not like he’d be taking her up to his ship and probe her.
Yet, they’ve all been confined to District K for the past fifteen years.”
And no one considers how they got stopped in the first place.
“We’re not confined anymore,” he began, but Lois ran over the top of anything else he might say.
“Oh, yes. How could I forget? Now you can leave, but only if you wear an armband laced with a radioactive substance – the only substance known to hurt Kryptonians.”
I get the feeling that Lois isn’t all that pro-prejudice.
“How can you just stand there and accept this?”
He’s already being subversive enough by not wearing the mandatory blue outfit with the bright yellow S on the chest and the red overcoat.
Do you all just accept being permanently unemployed?”
They can live off the sun. No need to work.
“Regardless, you ought to have the right to seek gainful employment. We have laws about that.”
He could try the Gotham Gazette next?
But Mr. White was already shaking his head. “If they find out and learn that I knew and hired him anyway, I could lose my job. I’m sorry, Lois. My hands are tied.”
He really could work for the Met Star? Also, how can this not have a part counter?
Clark sighed and shook his head. “Thank you, Lois. But it’s not worth it. I’m just one man. No one is going to care whether or not I can get a job.”
“I care.”
Awwwwww…
Clark shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve only got enough money for a few more days in Metropolis. If I can’t find a job by the end of the week, I guess I’ll be headed back to Smallville.”
So, he didn’t arrive with the Kryptonians?
So little is known about your race, your culture, your home world.”
Yes, rural America isn’t featured much in the media.
The elevator doors closed between them but, for the first time in years, Clark no longer felt completely cut off from humanity.
Awwwwww
That’s quite the mixed tale you’ve started to weave there. I applaud your creativity
Michael
