Chapter Text
The office was busy.
It was always busy, but today was especially hectic. Reporters bustled around, eager to get their latest story onto paper for a chance to make the front page. Phones rang, people yelled across the room, and the smell of coffee filled the space. Iris Wilde was no different, already on her way to spilling piping hot coffee down her white shirt on the way to rush back to her desk.
‘Lois! I’ve got a new angle, come check it out.’ She weaved her way to her desk as she called to her friend at the desk opposite her, turning to her computer screen.
A moment later chair wheels squealed on the tile floor and Lois Lane appeared at Iris’ shoulder. She was holding her own respective coffee cup and was in the process of emptying several sachets of sugar into the drink. ‘What's up Wilde? I thought Clark had the full scoop on this one.’
Lois was intuitive, that's for sure. She questioned everything, and Iris liked it. She questioned things herself. I mean, that's what she became a journalist for: answering the unanswerable mysteries of Metropolis.
Iris nodded in agreement, spinning in her chair to face Lois. ‘Mhm, but- wait, is that even more sugar? Really Lois, you're killing yourself with that amount, normal coffee does the trick, you know.’
Lois only shook her head, motioning for Iris to continue.
‘Okay anyway, Kent does have his angle, but I've got one better. Our caped crusader might have been walking into a trap.’
‘A trap? How so?’ Lois was definitely interested now. If she was a cat her ears would have perked up right now.
‘I found a witness at the scene. A woman working in the deli across the street from it all. She swears she saw one of the so-called ‘terrorists’ talking to LexCorp security before the attack happened.’
Lois raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s... something. But it could’ve just been a fluke.’
‘Sure, it could have. Except the same guy, the terrorist. He just disappeared. No police record. No arrest. Just disappeared.’ Iris clicked through the files on her screen and zoomed in on a picture from the scene. ‘But wait, there's more. The tech in that truck? Yeah, not standard LexCorp shit. That was military grade, even more perhaps. It could have been like alien stuff.’
Lois let out a low whistle. ‘You think they made that on purpose for Superman?’
Iris paused to think about it. ‘I think they wanted to lure in Superman. See if they could find out something about him. I have no idea what it is but I'm working on getting this image checked out by a specialist, someone who knows a lot about metahuman tech.’
There was a pause as Lois processed. Then she grinned.
‘Well hot damn Wilde. Clark's still writing about how many people Superman saved, and I bet he's going to get one of the private interviews that makes him so popular with Perry.’
‘And I’m writing about how LexCorp might’ve been using him like some sort of lab rat.’ Iris turned back to her screen, typing fast. She muttered under her breath. ‘Sorry, Clark Kent. You’re sweet, but I’m going to beat you to this one.’
Out of nowhere another voice chimed in, like he had somehow heard her quiet comment. Clark. ‘You got something Iris- uh- Wilde.’ He corrected himself quickly. They weren't exactly on a first name basis yet. Sure they had worked together for several months now, but they were very different.
Clark focused more on all the good things in a story, especially when it came to Superman. On the other hand, Iris preferred to dig more into what was being hidden from the public.
LexCorp was her main suspect behind a lot of the recent chaos in the city, she knew there was something shady going on within the company, as there is with all rich megacorporations like that. She would give her life to solve the puzzle of it all.
Clark spoke again. ‘What's your angle? Do you have something new on Superman?’ Classic Clark, always with the questions about the superhero.
Iris spun her chair to face him, a determined look in her eye. ‘As if I would tell you, Kent. This story is mine. You can read about it on the front page tomorrow.’
‘Not if I beat you to it, Wilde.’ The banter was playful and Lois chuckled at the two of them, sipping her sugar-overpowered coffee.
The quips died down and everyone got back to typing furiously on their stories.
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Iris didn't end up making Tuesday's front page. Her source for the investigation into the metahuman tech went quiet. He cut all contact with Iris out of nowhere and refused to meet with her. That was definitely suspicious. But even more so, it was really goddamn frustrating. She couldn't finish the investigation so the article had to go on hiatus.
Clark got his story into the next day's paper. He even had a snippet from an interview with Superman himself. Iris was annoyed, rightfully so. But she was happy for him; Clark did write very, very well, she read all of his pieces.
Speaking of Clark, he approached her desk that afternoon, right before their lunch break. Iris was typing away at a new piece, still trying to unearth some of LexCorp’s mysteries. She didn't notice the man standing behind her until she put her head down on the desk out of frustration and he spoke up.
‘Writers block?’ The voice startled her and she shot up, turning to see Clark right there. She met his eyes and sighed.
‘Yeah, something like that.’
‘Happens to the best of us. Uh- Lois told me about what you found on that terrorist attack yesterday. It's a shame your article didn't make it. I'm sure you'll get the next one, then we can be even.’ His voice was soft, comforting almost. With that, all lingering annoyance for his article winning the spot in the newspaper left her at his kindness.
Iris rubbed her eyes, exhausted from being at work since early that morning. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’
‘Uh- you look kind of tired. It's our lunch break and I was just about to head out, would you like to come with me? I know a really good coffee place a block away.’ Iris scanned him for any signs of malicious intent but came back empty handed.
She debated for a moment, the need for coffee overwhelming her resistance to trusting new people. ‘Yeah, the drinks in this place are shit.’
Clark laughed at that, agreeing with a nod. He waited for her to grab her coat and purse before taking a place walking beside her.
They headed out of the building together, Clark holding the doors open for Iris to walk through.
Her instincts were telling her to make up some excuse to leave and go back to her desk, but for some reason she didn't. The chill of the city air hit her at full force, making her pull her coat tighter around herself.
The streets were busy, but not loud, just as you would expect for a normal lunch time in Metropolis. Iris noticed Clark making a point to slow his pace so it matched hers.
They didn't talk on the short walk to the coffee shop, just walked in silence. It put Iris on edge slightly, but after a few minutes it became comfortable.
A small bell chimed overhead as they stepped into the café. It was warm inside, a pleasant break from the cold city air. It smelled like chai and espresso, Iris smiled to herself. ‘I have to admit, Kent, you do have good taste in coffee places.’
Iris walked up to the counter, but Clark stepped in. ‘I’ll get this one’ He spoke before she could even reach for her wallet.
She looked up at him ‘I didn’t ask you to.’
‘I know. But you looked like you needed it.’ He shrugged.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You always this nice to people?’
Clark just shrugged again. ‘It’s harder to get quotes when people dislike you.’
That pulled a short laugh out of her and she stepped aside to let him order.
‘Mochachino please.’ She said to the cashier.
Clark gave her a smile. ‘I didn't take you for a chocolate kind of girl.’
‘Don’t you dare tell anyone, they don't need to know I'm not just a cutthroat reporter.’ Any tension that was between them had lifted, the playful banter back again.
Once they had both ordered, they found a little table in the corner near the window. Iris stirred her coffee absently, eyes drifting out toward the street, watching a dog trying to catch a bird as its owner absentmindedly held it back, bust with a phone call. Clark didn’t press her to talk, just watched, sipping his drink.
After a moment, he broke the silence.
‘You really think LexCorp was trying to trap Superman?’
Iris looked away from the window and met Clark's eyes. ‘Yes. And I think my source got scared into silence. But I know something bigger is going on.’
‘Well, then the story’s not dead,’ Clark said gently. ‘Just… sleeping.’
She smirked faintly. ‘You sound like Lois, y’know.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
Iris nodded. ‘You should, she's brilliant.’
They sat in a moment of quiet again, the city passing them by through the window.
‘Thanks, by the way,’ she said. ‘For the coffee. And for not being weird about…all this.’ She gestured widely with her hands.
He tilted his head, questioning. ‘All what?’
She made another vague gesture. ‘The competition. Everyone at the Planet is always trying to one-up each other. You could’ve easily gloated.’
Clark shook his head, meeting her eyes, staring through his glasses. ‘I don’t really see it that way.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ she said with a small laugh. ‘You’re freakishly nice. It’s kind of off-putting.’
‘Don’t trust niceness?’ That was too close to the truth. Iris didn't trust many people, especially when they didn't ask for anything in return. She expected them to turn to get something from her at some point no matter what.
Clark registered her silence and broke the tension she was building around her. ‘I guess I'll let you pay for coffee next time then.’
Next time? There was going to be a next time? For some reason, Iris didn't hate the idea, maybe she was getting better at making friends. Lois was the only person she really was close to since moving into the heart of the city and getting this job at the Daily Planet.
After a few moments of thinking and staring into her drink Iris spoke, questioning Clark. ‘Did you read my article yesterday?’
He was still looking into her eyes, still radiating kindness from him. ‘Yeah! I really liked it. Your writing is good, and you're definitely onto something. I don't think anyone else would have found what you did.’
‘I- thank you. I appreciate that.’ She was taken off guard by his statement. She criticised her own work too hard and too often. Iris really did appreciate what Clark had said, and she could tell that he meant it. That goddamn farm-boy charm.
Silence stretched out between them yet again and Clark checked the time on his phone. ‘We should probably get back before Perry sends out a search party.’
‘Or thinks we got stuck in another Superman chaos,’ Iris added with a smirk, standing up and donning her coat again, preparing for the cold weather.
Clark chuckled as they started walking, holding the door for her once again. ‘We’d make headlines for sure.’
She looked over at him. ‘Front page?’
He grinned. ‘Only if you write it.’
That made her laugh. It was an honest kind of laugh, one she got from settling into his kindness and the routine of their banter-full dynamic. She shook her head, half-smiling as they walked back down the block towards the Daily Planet.
They didn’t talk the whole way. But the silence wasn’t awkward. Iris didn't even think about it, it was…easy.
Back at the office, Iris slid into her chair and opened up her notes again. She stared at them for a long beat, the pages blurring in front of her eyes.
Then, out of nowhere, she muttered to herself, ‘Freakishly nice,’ under her breath with a small laugh’
Clark, now settling in at his own desk across the bullpen, looked up just in time to hear her and shot her a questioning glance. How did he keep hearing everything?
She shrugged, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. ‘Just saying.’
She turned back to her screen, hoping to hide her pink face from him, and from Jimmy and Lois; lord knows they like to collect office gossip.
The rest of the work day went easy, words flowing from her brain into the document. When she got back home that night she was content. Her doubts about Metropolis and the Daily Planet subsided and she smiled to herself.
She made dinner, something simple, then curled up on her worn couch with her laptop balanced on her knees. Her apartment was still half-unpacked from the move weeks ago, boxes lining the wall. She wasn't used to having this much space to herself.
Somewhere in the distance, city sirens wailed. A neighbor’s TV played the news too loud through the thin apartment walls. She barely noticed. For the first time in a while, Iris felt steady. Like maybe she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
She glanced at her phone. No messages from her source. No new leads. But Clark had texted her. It was a photo of the coffee shop’s punch card. One stamp down, nine to go. Beneath it, he’d written: Next time’s on you, remember?
Iris rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips anyway.
She set the phone aside and opened a new document. A headline blinked at her from the top of the page.
“LexCorp and the Missing Metahuman Link”
There were still questions. Still stories to tell.
And Iris wasn’t going anywhere.