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“Hey, Jimmy.”
“Lois!” He rapidly switches tabs from his game of sudoku to the photos he’s meant to be editing and smiles up at her. “Hey— uh, hey. What’s up?”
She shares a knowing smile of her own as she leans against his desk. “Do you have any assignments yet?”
Jimmy shakes his head. “Nah, I haven’t pitched anything today. Figured I’d go where the wind takes me, y’know?”
“Well, the wind has arrived.” Lois looks across the bullpen to a young woman talking excitedly with Perry. Well, you look excited, but he doesn’t. “Have you met my intern yet?”
“Yeah,” he says, a more genuine smile forming as he watches you. “We met when she came in for orientation last week. She— she’s great.”
“You think so?”
Jimmy nods. “I’m surprised you took her on, honestly. She’s a lot nicer than you.” Lois tries to swat his shoulder but he rolls back in his chair with a laugh. “Point proven!”
“Oh, whatever,” she huffs. She calls your name and your head shoots up, and she gestures for you to come over. You say some kind of apology to Perry, who looks relieved once you walk off.
“Miss Lane!” you say brightly. “What can I do for you?”
“I told you to call me Lois,” she says.
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “All of you are so nice here. I’m still getting used to it.”
Jimmy frowns. “Were the people at your last job mean?”
“My last internship kind of sucked,” you say. “I mean, I did some great reporting, don’t get me wrong! But everyone there was way more cutthroat than I thought they would be. And,” you tip your head, “I didn’t get paid. So this is already way better.”
“Glad to hear it,” Lois says. “What was Perry talking to you about?”
“Oh, I was just asking him a lot of questions,” you say with a slight laugh. “This is the biggest paper I’ve ever worked at, so I’m trying to get to know all the editors. My college paper has like… fifteen people total, and it feels like I’m at least half of them some days.”
“What a coincidence,” Lois says, and she pats Jimmy on the shoulder. “My friend Jimmy here was just talking about how he’d love to show you the ropes.”
“You would?” you ask, your eyes brightening as you break out that perfect smile once again. It’s deadly, he swears—blinding, if nothing else.
“I would?” he stumbles, and then he blinks. Jimmy’s been wanting to spend time with you since the second you walked through the doors, and Lois is just handing it to him on a silver platter. He can show someone the ropes, can’t he? “I— I would, yeah! Definitely!”
“Great.” Lois stands up and looks between both of you. “Senator Cia Strong is running for reelection, and she’s having a press conference today in Byrd Park for her stop in Metropolis. I think it would be a good, quick story for you to cover together.”
“Oh, I heard about that!” you exclaim. “Her opponent’s Bill Macron, and he looks surprisingly strong for a newcomer— do you think she’ll win?”
Lois smiles. “That’s for the two of you to find out.”
“When is it?” Jimmy asks.
She looks down at her watch. “Twenty-seven minutes.”
“Twenty-sev—?” he blurts out, and he jumps up from his seat. “Lois, that’s a twenty minute subway ride on its own!”
“You can make it if you hurry,” she says nonchalantly, but he barely hears her as he starts gathering his things at top speed. You’re moving at a similar pace, already booking it back to the intern desk they keep shoved in the corner of the office to get your stuff.
You make it back ten seconds later—your backpack hangs off one shoulder, your camera is looped around your neck, and you’ve got your press pass and water bottle and jacket and probably five other things in your arms.
“Are you good?” he asks.
“Yeah!” you nod, “I’ll meet you outside!” And then you’re already jogging out the door.
Jimmy shoots Lois a dirty look as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and starts backpedaling. “You’re the worst!” he calls.
She smiles. “Have fun!”
Jimmy runs after you, narrowly avoiding a direct collision with Cat, and Lois walks back over to her desk and sits down.
“I saw that, Miss Lane,” Clark says.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she says airily.
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“This is work!” she defends. “She’s my intern—I’m helping her get situated.”
“Uh-huh,” he nods. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Jimmy’s been making eyes at her since her first day, would it?”
Lois shrugs as she opens her inbox. “I told you, I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s sweet,” Clark says. “I didn’t think you of all people would be a matchmaker.”
She frowns and looks over at him. “What does that mean?”
This time, he shrugs with a wry smile. “I don’t know.”
Lois scoffs and clicks on an unread press release. She gets two lines in before she deletes it. PR folks love sending her releases for things that, one, aren’t newsworthy, and two, aren’t on her beat.
“They’re both good kids,” she finally says. “Cub reporters usually stick together anyway. I’m just giving them a headstart on it.”
“Of course,” Clark nods. “And if sparks happen to fly, you can’t really be blamed, can you?”
“You’ve got a one track mind,” she remarks, but she can’t fully bite back her smile, especially as she meets his warm eyes.
The Daily Planet has a way of bringing people together, after all.
-
You and Jimmy end up barely making it to the subway, the doors closing mere seconds after you get into the car. You collapse onto the bench beside each other, both very much out of breath from your multi-block sprint.
“Do all of your stories start off like this?” you gasp out.
“No.” Jimmy shakes his head, but it takes him another few seconds to respond as he tries to catch his breath. He hasn’t had to run that many blocks in… forever, he thinks. “But the reporters here like to go ‘trial by fire’ for their interns. Especially Lois.”
“I’ve always admired her work,” you say. “Now I think she might be a little crazy.”
A laugh tumbles out of him as he leans his head against the back of the seat. “To make it in this field, you’ve gotta be.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I’ve gathered that.”
The two of you sit there for another stop in silence, still gathering your thoughts and breath. Jimmy can’t help but pass a few glances at you, glowing from exertion. You shrug your backpack onto the floor and start organizing everything you grabbed off your desk in your haste.
He’s only been in your presence for a collective five minutes, between your orientation last week and your real first day today, but he doesn’t want to leave it. He feels like a meteor stuck in your orbit, especially when you give him that superstar smile.
“So,” he starts, now that his heart has finally returned to a normal rate, “how’d you get this gig?”
“Some networking and a lot of luck,” you admit. “My favorite professor went to college with Mis— with Lois. She told me to apply, so I did, and she put in a good word for me. Two interviews and a few on-the-spot articles later, and voila! I’m here.”
Jimmy nods. “Nothing wrong with a bit of networking. Kinda feels like it’s the only way to get anything done these days.”
“Tell me about it,” you sigh. “I swear, half my friends are going on dates, and I’m over here with a contact list full of small-town bureaucrats.”
He laughs some. He kinda feels bad for wondering if that means you’re single. “If it makes you feel better, you’re probably getting left on read about the same amount.”
You laugh too, and it makes him smile. Something about you draws him in and he can’t even help it. Could Lois tell, or did she just throw him into this without even knowing?
Who is he kidding? Lois notices everything. This is probably her version of paying him back for handling her dailies last week so she could chase a Superman scoop.
(He will never admit it to her, but it does kinda make up for it.)
“How long have you worked at the Daily Planet?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Only about a year and a half,” he says. “I got hired in the mailroom originally, but Perry brought me up to staff after a couple months. I had a ‘Humans of Metropolis’ photoblog that really impressed him.” He laughs. “And the Superman action shots that ended up front page, above the fold.“
Your eyes widen. “You’ve met Superman?”
“Yeah!” Jimmy nods after a moment of hesitation. “Yeah, so many times. We’re basically best buds.”
“Oh my god.” You grab his arm and lean in and he stares at you with equally-wide eyes. “That— that is so cool! I— I’ve read a bunch of Superman stuff, but I never thought I might get to meet him!”
He grins. “Reporting in Metropolis isn’t like any other city. I think you’ll realize that pretty quickly.”
“I can’t imagine getting pictures like that, of a superhero.” You sigh and pick up the camera around your neck. “I’ve also never been the best photographer. Not very MMJ of me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he assures. “One nice thing about working at such a big paper is that you usually don’t have to go out as a one man band.”
“God, yes,” you mumble. “I struggled through all of my media production classes. I’m definitely meant to be behind a laptop, not in front of a camera.”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy says, tilting his head, “I think you’d make a killing on broadcast.”
You smile at him, more genuine than anything he’s ever received before, and he feels better just at the sight. It doesn’t make sense. He barely knows you—he can’t be thinking like this. He can’t be this obvious. You don’t make it easy.
“Thanks,” you say. “But I’m happy where I am.”
You and Jimmy continue to chat until you get to your stop—mostly idle conversation to pass the time, but he does learn a few things. You’re from a small town in Vermont, your preferred beat is politics, and if you could bring three things to a deserted island you’d bring a notebook, a knife, and your reusable water bottle.
Oh, yeah—he also learns that he’s a complete goner. Jimmy falls deeper into your orbit during a twenty minute subway ride, pulling out every joke he can think of to try and make you laugh and see that smile again. How is he going to work with you every day and still stay a normal, self-respecting person?
You’re magnetic. It’s no wonder you’re going into journalism, because he thinks you can get anyone to tell you anything if you just ask nicely and give them that smile.
It’s certainly worked on him.
But Jimmy doesn’t have to think too much about that right now, because the two of you have another five minute sprint to make it to Byrd Park on time. You show your press passes to get to the front, then you separate as Jimmy finds a spot.
You take out a pen, notepad, and a mini recorder while Jimmy rushes to fix his white balance. He always forgets to reset it. You give him a smile and a little wave from your front row seat. He smiles back and feels dizzy.
The press conference goes a lot smoother than the rush over did. The senator delivers pretty much exactly what Jimmy expects—improved education, protected healthcare, lowered crime, the same old. Strong isn’t the worst senator, but Jimmy thinks half the state doesn’t know anything about her policies. She’s average, and most politicians seem to be that or worse these days.
It’s just like any other press conference—with exceptionally good lighting, Jimmy might add—until the explosions start.
He barely even registers it. One moment he’s on one knee zooming in for a better view of Strong, the next he’s been thrown against a tree so hard he thinks it breaks in half. He hopes, at least, because otherwise that crack came from his ribs.
It takes Jimmy a second to come back into himself. He’s protected his camera above all else, wrapped in his jacket and his arms, and he snaps a round of quick photos of all the chaos before he struggles to his feet.
Everything has devolved into hysteria—screaming and running and batting out flames. Jimmy has to find you. You’re a small town girl and now you’re caught up in a bombing in one of the biggest cities in the world. What a great first day.
He’s trying to search for you, but it’s hard when half the park is enveloped in smoke and flames and he can’t stop hacking up a lung. How is he meant to find you or get any good pictures in this?
“Help!”
A voice pierces through the disorder and Jimmy knows it’s you. His heart speeds up and he starts shoving his way through the crowd. He yells out your name and you call his in response—you keep Marco Poloing until Jimmy finds you, and his eyes widen.
You’re face down in the dirt, your leg pinned down by a fallen tree. You spot Jimmy and yell for him again, and he runs up to you.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, dropping to his knees beside you. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, and you grunt as you push at the tree trunk. “I just can’t— get this— off!
“Just stay calm!” Jimmy says. “It— it’s gonna be okay!”
Jimmy tries to push the tree off you and quickly realizes he is not anywhere near strong enough.
“Does this happen on everyone’s first day?” you ask.
“Not everyone’s,” he grunts. “But welcome to your crash course on reporting in Metropolis. Metahumans can throw a superpowered wrench in your plans for the day.”
“How do you know this is a metahuman?” you ask breathlessly.
Jimmy thinks about the car he no longer has because of some villain of the week that tried to bash Superman over the head with it. If only he had been able to afford the next level up of metahuman insurance.
“Because it usually is,” he decides on. “You, uh, kinda get used to it.”
You huff an incredulous laugh. Jimmy attempts to lift it up even an inch, just enough for you to get your leg out, but no dice. He tries one more time—he has to save you, of course, but come on how cool would it be for him to do this in front of you?—and to his shock, the tree lifts up.
You crawl out from under it and shift to your back, your chest heaving with effort. The crushed remains of your camera are scattered all around you. Your eyes only widen, but you’re not looking at Jimmy.
“Superman!” you marvel, your voice a mixture of shock and awe.
He looks over and sees that Superman is, in fact, beside him holding up the tree.
“Are you okay, miss?” he asks as he sets it back down. Jimmy glances down at his hands, a little disappointed. “Your leg isn’t injured?”
“You’re Superman,” you repeat. Jimmy thinks you’re starstruck.
“I am,” he smiles. His gaze goes down to the press pass still hanging around your neck, and his eyes light up. “You’re from the Daily Planet?”
You nod, once, twice, three times. Definitely starstruck. “I’m one of their summer interns.”
Superman grins. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for you, then. Welcome to Metropolis.” He looks over at Jimmy and nods. “Good to see you again, Jimmy.”
He nods as well. “Yeah, uh— good to see you too, Supes. Thanks for the assist.”
Superman flies off to help more people before Jimmy manages to say anything else stupid—Supes?—and you look like you’re about to pass out.
Jimmy says your name as he moves closer to you, his eyes still wide. He puts his hands on your shoulders to bring you back to the real world. “Are you still with me?”
“We just met Superman!” you exclaim, grinning at Jimmy. It might just be all the smoke he’s inhaled, but he feels a little lightheaded. “My first day on the job and we met Superman—”
There’s a sudden buzzing in the air, and you pull your phone out of your pocket. “It’s Lois,” you tell him, and then you answer it. “Lois, hey!”
Jimmy can hear her frantically saying your name even from here. She’s not exactly quiet. You move the phone away from your ear some and he chuckles. “Are you and Jimmy okay? I saw the news— the bombs—”
“We’re fine!” you assure, and you motion for Jimmy to come over. “Jimmy too, here—”
“Hey, Lois,” he says, loud enough to be heard through the receiver. “We’re good.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “If I had known this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have—”
“Are you kidding?” you interrupt. “This was incredible, Lois! We’ve got a way bigger story to uncover— no one just bombs normal senators. There’s gotta be dirt we can uncover. And— oh my god, we met Superman!”
“…You did?” she asks, and she sounds less than enthused.
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, it was amazing. He saved my life!”
“Sounds like him,” she says.
“This is incredible,” you say. “Jimmy and I are gonna get a bunch of man on the street interviews from people that are here— can you call the Strong campaign PR person and see if you can get a statement?”
“Don’t you think you should go to the hospital?” Lois asks. “You were just in a bombing, you have no idea who could be behind it—”
“This is my chance to get my first Metropolis-sized scoop!” you insist. “Would you go to the hospital right now?”
“…I’ll give them a call,” she says. “The two of you, stay safe. Jimmy has Clark’s number, call him if anything happens!”
“Make sure you ask about her donors!” you insist.
You hang up and you look over at Jimmy. Your clothes are singed and covered in tree bark and ashes, and you have a bleeding cut on your forehead, but you look happier than any normal person should be right now.
“Did you get any pictures of all that?”
“Uh, not of that,” he says. “I was kind of busy trying to save you.”
“What about the explosion?”
He nods and starts clicking through his photos. “I took what I could. I think I might have a concussion?”
“That one!” you exclaim, and he stops. “That is perfect, Jimmy!”
He got one right as the explosion went off, with Senator Strong speaking on a backdrop of blinding light. He goes to the next photo and it’s nothing but that light. He goes back to the photo that is definitely a front pager and shakes his head. He can’t believe his lens didn’t crack, but he’s very thankful.
“Geez,” he mutters. “How lucky am I?”
“Do you still have your laptop?”
“As long as it’s not broken in my backpack, yeah.”
“Change of plans, then. You get those photos uploaded to your drive so we’re ready once we get back to the office.” You take your mini recorder out, somehow not crushed like your camera, and smile. “I’m gonna interview anyone that’s stuck around. We’ll meet up in thirty minutes by the fountain, okay?”
Jimmy nods. He looks down at your leg and sees that you’ve lost a third of your pant leg—not to mention the swelling and killer bruises starting to form. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I don’t even feel it,” you assure. “Which means we’ve gotta get this done before my adrenaline fades.”
“You’re a little crazy,” Jimmy says. “I think you’ll fit in perfectly here.”
You grin and Jimmy smiles. “Fountain in thirty,” you repeat.
“Aye, aye, captain.”
You laugh, and then you run off to get your interviews. Jimmy watches you for a good, long second before he goes off to find a still-intact park bench. Police officers and EMTs are already starting to show up—he makes a mental note to get a quote from an officer before the two of you leave.
He might be a little crazy, too. Because Jimmy is pretty sure he would go through a couple more bombings just to spend more time with you.
-
You and Jimmy stumble through the doors of the Daily Planet. You limped your way back from the subway station, Jimmy is now sure he has a concussion, and you both look like you’ve been through Hell and back together.
You don’t think you’ve ever been happier.
“We need to start making phone calls right now,” you say to Jimmy as he speeds to keep up with you. “Like, search through Strong’s donor list and bother every single one of them.”
“I’m already on it.” Jimmy’s been scrolling through his phone for half your scramble over here, sending texts to sources and answering ones from friends who saw he was at the bombing. “The news editor at the Metropolis Examiner has been looking into her shifty financial history since her first term—she just shared her master doc with me.”
“Great!” you exclaim. “We can bust this wide open, Jimmy!”
You pull up a chair at Jimmy’s desk and take your laptop out of your bag. You’re already typing at the speed of light. “I’ll start a write-up on the press conference so we can get it out as soon as possible. Do you edit your photos yourself or does someone else do it?”
“I do my own,” he says. “No one else understands my vision.”
“Then start editing your best shots, ones you think will make us a shoe-in for the front page,” you say, and you almost squeal in excitement. “This has got to get us above the fold, right?”
“I think so,” Jimmy says. “Perry would definitely give it to us if we got an interview with Superman. That’s why Clark is always on the front page.”
“Well, it sounds like you two really are best friends,” you tease. “You’re on a nickname basis with him?”
He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. We’re cool with each other.”
“Maybe you can get us that interview with him next time,” you say. “Then I’ll really have something to brag about to my roommates.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says.
You grin. “Great. Now, get on those photos.”
Jimmy nods. Technically, he’s higher up on the totem pole than you, but technically, he doesn’t think he’d get anywhere trying to pull rank when he’s only a step above you. You’re in the zone—he respects it, and he’s a little scared of it.
“Once you’re done, you can keep looking into the Strong angle,” you say. “We move fast enough, we’ll have two articles to pitch to Perry before lunch!”
“Yes ma’am,” Jimmy jokes. Lightroom has finally booted up, so he starts to transfer his favorite shots over. He passes a glance over at you while they’re loading. “You move fast, don’t you?”
You laugh, high on life, journalism, and the adrenaline that comes with surviving a bombing. “Trial by fire, right?”
“Are you two okay?” a voice asks, and you turn your head to see it’s Clark Kent with slightly wide eyes. He has a mug of coffee in each hand and he places them down in front of you both. “It’s all over every station; you even ended up in some shots.”
“We were on TV?” Jimmy asks. He might be working at one of the most acclaimed newspapers in the world, but it is still so cool to him every time he makes it onto the news for something other than his photos.
“More than,” you assure. Your fingers are still flying over the keys, and you laugh again. “What a way to get my first byline here!”
“I’m glad,” Clark says, and he looks at you. “Lois is off chasing that lead you gave her. I think you might be the perfect intern for her.”
“I’m glad,” you echo. “If this is what the whole summer’s gonna be like, I cannot wait!”
“Woah, new girl!” Steve is walking past them but he stops and backpedals, eyes wide as he looks you and Jimmy up and down. You do both kind of look like complete messes—him, at least. Somehow, you still look good. “Rough first day?”
You and Jimmy share glances at each other and you grin. He thinks he might pass out.
“No,” you say. “It was perfect.”