Special thanks to DJ for beta-reading, without whom this story would be nothing but commas. (I only include all those commas, because IRL I talk like William Shatner, and I include a comma, where I would naturally, pause, for the sake, of drama.)

~*~

Lois sighed. Her room was a dive. The whole building was a dive, although someone had obviously made a feeble attempt to make it look presentable over the summer. Still, it wasn’t her first dive, and hopefully it would be her last.

At least, her eclectic furniture collection made it look like her own dive. Even if some average Jane left the unclaimed portions of the room looking pedestrian, hum-drum or hick.

Still, she wished there was something she could do about the smell, the one with the sweatshop, gym locker, stale food kind of an aura. There wasn’t enough baking soda in the world to win that kind of a fight. And those silly sprays would just make it seem like roses in an outhouse. Still, she would hardly indulge on an air-purifier, and she would definitely not take it lying down, so she made a mental note to buy the biggest dang box of baking soda she could find.

With no work and no school, this would probably be her last chance to relax for the next few months. A dive like this could offer no bubble bath; still she could enjoy her last splurge without it. She pulled on a schlumpy robe and a ratty pair of slippers and sprawled across her bed to enjoy the latest romance novel to top the French charts.

~*~

The bus was late. Lois raged against the forces that be which conspired to make her late on her first day of work. In a time of computers and automated stoplights and traffic reports and atomic clocks, there was no excuse for being late. None! And still her watch showed that the bus was a full three minutes late and counting.

Unless, she shuddered against the thought, what if it had instead come early? What if she had missed the bus on this, her first day of work? It was totally not fair! She had allowed plenty of time to walk to the bus stop, had researched the lines meticulously so she would know which transfer to take, had allowed plenty of time for walking and traffic, and the incompetent, overpaid, government screw-up who drove the bus negated it all by showing up late, or early, to make her a generous three-and-a-half minutes late to her first day of work. Probably more if she missed her connecting bus and had to wait the twenty freaking minutes it would take for the next bus to meander along.

She heard before she saw the bus approaching. She glanced at her watch. It wheezed up four minutes late. Perfect! Presuming the connecting bus was on time, give or take four minutes, she would still be prompt on this, her first day at work as a grunt on the greatest newspaper in the galaxy.

~*~

Clark had been antsy all day. He had no idea who the beautiful brunette had been, or what she had been doing in Perry’s office. There was no guarantee she would walk back into Clark’s life ever. Yet, he couldn’t help himself; he had kept his eyes open all morning long, waiting for her lovely return.

There was something about the way she shook hands that had convinced Clark that she would return to finish her business with Perry.

It was probably all wishful thinking on his part. Still, he found himself quietly alert all morning.

He could always ask Perry who she was… But Perry didn’t get to be editor by treeing coons, and Clark didn’t relish explaining his interest in the young lady. Not that he would need to explain. Perry had a way of reading people; he would know before Clark opened his mouth.

The clock edged its way toward eight o’clock when the first wave of people hit the newsrooms. He had watched elevator after elevator, waiting for her arrival; supposing the girl of his dreams would indeed arrive today.

And then, it happened.

It was a music video kind of a moment. The elevator opened and she emerged. Soft focus. Slow motion. Spotlight on her. The music swelled. His heart raced. Her hair bounced as she scanned the room to the right and to the left.

He found himself standing to his feet, gaping mutely as she whisked by his desk.

~*~

‘The Ken doll’ had his mouth open again. Men! He probably wasn’t good with words. What did he ever do at a newspaper?