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Monday.
The bullpen at the Daily Planet was its usual level of chaotic, even with it being a rather slow news day. There was a constant cacophony of ringing phones and clacking keyboards, but Perry had the starring role with his booming voice. “Olsen! If that photo is not on my desk in ten minutes, I’ll publish a job posting for your hours instead!”
Jimmy Olsen nearly dropped his camera bag as he heard the threat coming from his boss, just as he scurried past Lois Lane’s desk. She was leaning back in her chair, her eyes narrowed and staring rather blatantly at the newest member of their team.
Clark Kent sat at his desk typing away at his computer, hunched over slightly as if his chair was too high and his desk too low. His suit didn’t quite fit right, his glasses kept slipping down his nose and his hair was a messy mop of curls. When a nearby copyboy tripped and spilled papers onto his desk, Clark just smiled warmly and helped the poor lad pick up his papers.
“Unbelievable,” Lois muttered.
Jimmy glanced over. “What is unbelievable?”
“Farmboy over there,” Lois said, jerking her chin toward Clark. “He has been here a month. A full month and he’s still as freshfaced as when he came in.”
“I don’t know, Lois, he’s really improved his writing quite a bit already.”
“Not fresh faced in his job, Jimmy. Fresh faced in his whole..” Lois vaguely gestured to the entirety of Clark Kent. “Demeanor. I have never heard him curse, or even seen him give anyone a dirty look. He helps absolutely everyone, even if they do not deserve it.”
“He is very polite, you’re right. But that’s a good thing, right?” Jimmy asked with a shrug.
“It has to be fake,” Lois said incredulously, crossing her arms as she leaned back further in her chair. “I completely broke when I was here less than a week. I cursed so much that Perry introduced the swear jar.” She glanced to the break room, where an old mayonnaise jar carried the label Bullpen Swear Jar. She occasionally put a dollar in, but only when Perry was looking, of course.
“It has to be fake,” she repeated. “He’s either the best actor in the world or the most wholesome person alive.”
Jimmy grinned. “You know what? I kinda like it. Although it does make the rest of us look pretty bad, really.”
“Please, nobody is that nice.” Lois drummed her fingers on the desk. “Everybody cracks eventually under the pressure of the Daily Planet bullpen.”
Jimmy smirked. “Wanna bet?”
Lois’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. “Bet what?”
“That you can’t get Clark Kent to swear. First one to make him curse wins. I’m willing to put up..” Jimmy retrieved his wallet and browsed it thoughtfully. “Five bucks.”
“Five? What are you, twelve?” Lois snorted.
“Fine, I’ll make it ten.”
Lois considered for a moment, then she smirked. “You’re on.”
Before they could shake hands, Perry’s voice thundered across the room again. “Olsen! How many times do I have to yell for you?! GET IN HERE NOW.”
Jimmy scrambled away and Lois resumed staring at Clark. He was typing away, calm as ever. His posture was ridiculous, it was a wonder this man didn’t have any back problems yet. Lois smiled as the first few ideas made their way into her brain. This should be as easy as pie.
Jimmy returned after a few minutes, sighing in clear relief at having survived Perry’s wrath. He leaned next to Lois against her desk, both observing Clark Kent.
Lois leaned forward, lowering her voice so only Jimmy could hear. “Okay, let’s set some ground rules. Rule number one: soft swears don’t count.”
Jimmy blinked. “Soft swears?”
“Yeah, you know. The sort of swears people use when kids are around. ‘Heck,’ ‘darn,’ ‘golly.’ They don’t count as real swears.”
Jimmy crossed his arms. “Hey, don’t disrespect a good ‘golly.’ Anyway, I’ve been watching him, Lois. I’ve never even heard him say a ‘what the hell’. Not even once.”
Lois smirked. “Maybe he saves it for church.”
“Maybe he’s literally incapable of cussing. Like maybe he doesn’t know any swears.”
Lois snorted. “Please, you cannot work as a reporter and not know any curse words. Don’t forget, Perry White swears at us constantly.” She crossed her arms and suddenly glared at Perry’s office. “Now that I think of it, Perry has never, ever put something in the swear jar himself! What a hypocrite!”
“He doesn’t really swear, he just shouts, like, a lot. Let’s stay on task, Lane,” Jimmy said, claiming her attention once more. “So here’s the deal. First one of us who gets him to say a real swear, out loud, wins.”
“And by real swear, you mean…?” Lois prompted, her grin sharpening.
“You know, the big ones. The four-letter ones.”
“Would ‘For heaven’s sake’ count? I think I could get that one from him,” Lois said thoughtfully.
“Since it has a religious connotation, I’ll allow it.”
Lois held out her hand. “Fine, but if I catch you trying your luck on some weak technicality, like getting him to say ‘shoot’ real angrily, I’m calling foul.”
Jimmy shook her hand with a solemn nod. “Scout’s honor.”
“Jimmy, you’ve never been a scout in your life.”
“Yeah, but I bet he was,” Jimmy shot back, nodding towards Clark. “That’s why this is gonna be impossible. But, either I get ten bucks out of it, or we both fail spectacularly together.”
Across from them, Clark sneezed loudly into his elbow, then said, “Pardon me,” with such earnest politeness that Lois nearly groaned aloud.
She dropped her voice. “I bet I can make him crack by Friday. Let's set that as a deadline.”
Jimmy grinned wide. “Lois Lane, you’re going down.”
Tuesday.
The next morning, Jimmy was waiting by the elevators, a mug of office coffee clutched in his hand. Lois watched from her desk, one eyebrow raised.
“You’re really starting with coffee?” she called and approached.
Jimmy grinned. “Trust me. Nobody can drink this sludge without at least one curse. And I doubt even Clark can hold back when I spill this all over him.”
Lois frowned. “You’re gonna burn him with coffee?”
Jimmy quickly shook his head and dipped a finger into the coffee as a way of demonstration. “No! It’s cold, I promise. I would never.”
Lois nodded faintly, then returned to her desk to observe.
Clark was late, as usual, but Jimmy stood ready. When he did finally appear when the elevator doors opened, Jimmy wasted no time and was in motion before Clark had even taken three steps into the office.
“Whoa!” Jimmy yelped, pretending to trip over his own feet.
Lois leaned forward, followed the splash of coffee as it became airborne, ready for the explosion that would surely ensue.
But Clark merely sidestepped with uncanny reflexes, though his glasses did slip down his nose and his eyes widened in surprise. The coffee splashed harmlessly on the marble floor. Clark immediately reached out to Jimmy, helping him up and steadying him by his arm.
“Oh gosh, Jimmy, are you all right?”
Jimmy blinked. “Am I..? Clark, I nearly ruined your clothes!”
Clark looked down at the very few droplets that had stained the hem of his pants. “Well no, but that was a close one. Did you slip on the floors? We should tell Perry that they shouldn’t wax the floors so often.”
Lois nearly fell out of her chair laughing. She simply couldn’t keep a straight face at the pure innocence plastered all over Clark Kent.
Jimmy had to reassure Clark that he was fine at least one more time, before Clark moved to his desk, whistling faintly. Jimmy slumped into an empty chair near Lois, a defeated expression on his face. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”
Lois leaned back, grinning smugly. “Told you, Jimmy. Just leave it to me. By Friday, he’s mine.”
Across the room, Perry barked: “Why does my floor smell like an exploded coffee corner? And who spilled by the elevators?!”
Jimmy quickly ducked out of view.
By mid-afternoon, Lois decided it was her turn. Jimmy hadn’t attempted anything else since his coffee stunt, so she figured Clark wouldn’t suspect a thing. She strolled over to his desk, leaning casually against the edge of it.
“So, Kent,” she said, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “Tell me something. What’s the most exciting thing to ever happen in Smallville? I can’t think of anything else but cow tipping contests or a barn bonfire or something.”
Clark looked up at her, adjusting his glasses. “Well, we don’t do much cow tipping, because well.. It's hard on the cows. But the Harvest Fair is always a big deal. There’s pie eating contests, hayrides, stuff like that.”
Lois’s smirk sharpened. “Hayrides? So you’re telling me your idea of adventure is sitting on a straw-stuffed wagon while hoping no one dies of boredom?”
“Sometimes,” Clark admitted cheerfully and nodded. “But there’s a ferris wheel too. Biggest one in the surrounding counties,” he added proudly.
Lois couldn’t help but roll her eyes and glanced at Jimmy, who was eavesdropping from his desk, grinning widely. Lois decided she needed to press harder.
“Ferris wheel, huh? That’s really riveting stuff. That’s your town’s pride and joy? I’ve seen better entertainment at my dentist. Ever think maybe the rest of the world has things that are actually fun?”
Clark tilted his head and smiled. “Fun is different for everyone, Miss Lane. And trust me, you won’t find better sweet corn anywhere in the country than the Smallville Harvest Fair.”
Lois narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “You’re telling me your redneck town’s corn beats Metropolis street food? There’s tacos on every streetcorner, and pizza slices larger than even your head!”
“Best corn you’ll ever have,” Clark said, perfectly serious.
Lois groaned, pushing off his desk and stalked off. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Jimmy leaned in and asked quietly: “Not even a ‘heck’?”
“Not a ‘heck’ in sight,” Lois sighed. They both stared at Clark, who gazed back confusedly, then shrugged and returned to his work.
Lois muttered under her breath: “I just insulted his hometown to his face and all he can talk about is corn. Unbelievable.”
Jimmy smirked. “Told you, Lane. The man is unbreakable.”
Wednesday.
The following day Jimmy had the plan for his next attempt worked out to precision. If they couldn’t break Clark in the office, then Metropolis traffic would do the trick just fine. The constant swirl of cars, couriers and pedestrians was enough to make the world’s sweetest grandma both fear for her life AND curse up a storm.
Jimmy had secured Clark for some ‘field work’, as he had called it. He had picked the busiest time of day, which was of course the morning rush. Cars blared their horns and plenty of people crossed the street without even really looking. Jimmy weaved through traffic, his camera swinging wildly, dragging Clark along by the sleeve.
“Come on, let’s go! The light’s green for like half a second here and if I don’t get a good shot of that protest, Perry will kill me!” Jimmy shouted over the chaos. He let go of Clark’s sleeve, leaving him to follow through the chaos of the traffic.
A taxi suddenly screeched to a halt inches from Clark. The taxi driver leaned out his window and yelled something poetically dirty. Other drivers assumed the curse was meant for them and swore back with even more colourful insults. Multiple middle fingers popped up from different directions.
Jimmy glanced back at Clark, waiting for it. This had to be it, the busy morning traffic a perfect chance to push Kent over the edge and elicit a curse of some kind, it didn’t even have to be a super bad one.
But Clark calmly overtook Jimmy, grasped him firmly by the shoulder and steered him to the curb. “Goodness, Jimmy, watch where you’re walking! You could’ve been flattened like a pancake.”
Jimmy froze in the middle of the sidewalk. “‘Goodness’? That’s all you’ve got?”
Clark gave him an uncertain smile and shrugged. “Well, the driver swore plenty already. I don’t see why I should add to it.”
Jimmy threw his hands up and turned to walk back towards the Daily Planet. “This is impossible.”
When Clark and Jimmy had both returned from their ‘field work’, Lois sat waiting for them rather impatiently. Lois’ next attempt was once again based on one of her own perceived strengths, namely, her talent to verbally overwhelm someone.
She had procured the best cheesecake of Metropolis (at least, in her opinion) and had it open on her desk, ready to divide into slices. She had given one slice to Perry to appease him, but had glared at anyone else who had dared come too close to her desk.
She leaned and stretched to see the elevators every time she heard the arrival ding, and finally, the boys walked out. She locked eyes with Jimmy, whose dejected expression was all she needed to know that he had failed his last attempt. She smirked, and jumped from her chair to start dividing some cheesecake pieces onto paper plates.
She was ready with a slice as Clark sat down behind his desk.
“Hey there, Smallville. Busy morning?” she said nonchalantly.
“Oh you know, business as usual. Though Jimmy walked into oncoming traffic, that sure was new,” Clark answered. Lois dared a quick glance at Jimmy, who looked to have all his limbs.
Lois slid a fork across Clark’s desk, then plopped the paper plate with the slice of cheesecake into his lap. He caught it with his hands just in time, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose.
“Here, try it,” she said with the sweetest smile she could muster. “Best dessert in the city.”
Clark stared at her in confusion for a second, then obediently took a bite. He chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. “It’s very good.”
Lois leaned in. “Better than Smallville apple pie, I’m sure. If you can call rolling fruit and sugar into dough a proper pie.”
Clark froze mid-chew. Jimmy held his breath from a distance. He could see it now, that sweet farm boy mask was cracking. He cursed quietly to himself. Why hadn’t he thought of the pie scheme?
But then Clark swallowed his bite and smiled warmly.
“Well, nothing beats my Ma’s recipe,” he said. “But this is still very, very tasty.”
Lois threw her hands in the air. “I just insulted your beloved mother’s homemade pie. What is wrong with you?”
She started walking away, leaving Clark behind confused, cheesecake still in hand. “I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it!” he called after her, but she had already stalked into the copy room.
Thursday.
Things were getting a little bit dire for both Lois and Jimmy. They were both running out of ideas, and Friday's deadline loomed awfully close. They sat at Lois’ desk, both eyeing Clark as he typed serenely on his computer, completely unaware of the betting war around him.
Jimmy bumped Lois’ elbow with his. “Do you think maybe he’s just physically incapable of swearing?”
Lois frowned. “Jimmy, of course he can swear. He’s just choosing not to. Which means one of us can get him there, we just haven’t found the right trigger yet.”
“So we’re still in this?” Jimmy glanced at her sideways.
“Oh, we’re in this. I don’t give up on any bet that easily. He may be immune to my insults, even Metropolis traffic, but I’m sure he’s not bulletproof.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’m sure. We just have to blast him with enough balls, and one of them is sure to stick. One of us will get him by Friday. Kent’s little invisible halo is gonna get crushed the moment we make him swear.”
Jimmy raised his coffee cup at her like he was toasting. “To finally making Clark Kent swear like a normal human being.”
Lois clinked her pen against his cup with a grin. “I’ll drink to that!”
After lunch, Jimmy had carefully set up his next attempt. There was a certain latch on the printer that, if positioned just right, would spray ink at the next person who dared to try for a copy. He himself had been a victim too many times to count, but now he could use the stupid printer to his advantage.
“Hey, Clark!” Jimmy called, “I am so terribly, terribly busy! Could you lend me a hand?”
“Yeah, what can I do to help?” Clark came over immediately, just like Jimmy had predicted. It was almost too easy, like throwing a ball for a golden retriever.
Jimmy shoved a stack of papers at Clark. “I need all of these copied twice, then stapled together in the top left corner with the black staples, not the silver ones, okay?”
Clark nodded dutifully and took a step closer to the copier. Jimmy stood ready, far enough away as to not be in the danger zone, but close enough to hear any soft curse Clark might utter.
Jimmy held his breath as Clark put the first paper into the machine, pushed the button and-
A beautiful spray of ink jumped from the machine, aimed perfectly for Clark. In a single second, Clark’s blouse and suit jacket were completely covered in ink splatter and Jimmy leaned in closer to catch that inevitable curse.
But none came. Instead, Clark laughed out loud and said “Well, buy me slippers and call me Dorothy, what a mess!” He quickly put his hands to the copier, pulled the little latch and stopped the spray of ink.
Jimmy groaned loudly. “Buy you slippers.. and call you Dorothy?!”
Clark looked over his shoulder at Jimmy and blinked. “It’s something my mom used to say, because we’re from Kansas, get it?”
Jimmy stalked off in exasperation, then turned back around to help Clark, having changed his mind.
Lois watched them both with a grin, which widened when Clark apologized for splattering ink all over Jimmy’s copies.
Lois’ next planned attempt was minorly inconvenienced by Jimmy’s failed attempt. Clark ditched his ink covered suit jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. His white blouse was also covered in some ink splatter, but not too badly, so Clark saw no reason to change out of it. The result was that Lois was now confronted by his broad build underneath, and she realized she had never seen Clark in a well-fitting blouse, for that matter. She spent a good ten minutes wondering how his blouse fit him so well, and why he would wear that ridiculous ill-fitting jacket on top of it.
She was pulled from her thoughts when she saw Jimmy stare at her, and then blatantly tap on his watch.
“Right. Showtime,” she muttered to herself.
Clark had skillfully dodged any insult she could throw at him, so it was time to call in the big guns and the most annoying person she could think of on their floor. She had done all her prep work, and it was only a matter of time until she could reap the fruits of her labour.
And then, like clockwork, Steve Lombard emerged from the sports-section of the Daily Planet building. He sauntered over casually, clocked Clark sitting at his desk and approached like a bear on its way to a honey bucket.
He greeted Clark with a wide grin. “Hey there, Kent. I have it on good authority that you claim you can throw a football across a field easily. Now is that true?”
Clark looked up and frowned. “Uhm, hi Steve. No, I don’t believe I’ve said that to anyone.”
Steve’s gaze fell to the scattered papers across Clark’s desk and started flipping through the notes without asking. “Kent, buddy, you don’t really start your opening paragraphs like this, do you? This is all set up for nothing and then no punch to bring home your point. Here, let me show you how a pro does it.” He grabbed a pen and started scribbling across the margin.
Clark grimaced and patiently took the papers back. “I appreciate your input, Steve, really. But Mr. White gave me specific instructions and I don’t want to let him down.”
Steve smirked. “Ah, the old git is just testing your meddle and resolve. Classic move to test the rookie. Tell you what, I’ll let you borrow one of my old featured pieces. You just copy that structure and you will look like a genius.”
Clark smiled. “That’s very generous of you, thank you, Steve.”
From her desk, Lois could not believe her eyes and ears. “What the fuck ,” she muttered under her breath. She quietly told herself that all hope was not yet lost, because Steve had the habit of hanging around where he was unwanted for long stretches of time.
And so Steve spent the last two hours of the workday bothering Clark. He even dragged Clark to the break room, bragging about his college days.
“There I was, Kent, ninety yards out and the crowd is roaring, so the pressure is on, you know?” He slung his arm around Clark’s shoulder. “You know what I did? I threw that ball right into the end zone. It was clean, and it was absolutely perfect. You ever feel that kind of rush when the whole situation hangs on your shoulders, practically life or death?”
Clark just shook his head, smiling faintly. “I imagine it must’ve been very exciting.”
Steve slapped the table, beaming at his words. “Exciting? It was enlightening! You’ve never really lived until ten thousand people chant your name. Kent, Kent, Kent! It’s got a nice ring to it, you gotta admit?
Clard nodded faintly. “I’m sure it does.”
Lois sat low in her chair, exhausted and exasperated. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
By five o’clock, Steve was throwing crumpled memos toward the trash can near Clark’s desk, narrating like a sportscaster.
“And Lombard drops back, Kent’s wide open, he goes for that final shot.. BOOM! Another touchdown for Lawnmower Lombard!” He missed his shot, and instead hit a high pile of papers on Clark’s desk. They scattered across the floor.
Clark quickly knelt down to pick them up, still smiling, patient as ever. “Careful, Steve. Don’t want you injuring your good arm.”
Steve laughed his usual booming laugh. “You’re a funny guy, Kent! Didn’t know you had jokes stashed behind that nerdy exterior of yours.”
Next to Lois, Jimmy groaned into his hands. “How is he not cracking? It’s torture just listening to this, and he's not even close to us!”
Lois glared at Clark. “He’s smiling. He’s actually smiling. I think he’s enjoying this!”
Jimmy stared in bewilderment. “Enjoying… Steve?”
Lois slammed her pencil down in frustration and turned around in her chair, no longer able to watch this freak spectacle of nature.
“I threw Lombard at him. That was supposed to be my nuke, my ultimate weapon,” Lois said softly, head hanging low in defeat. She glanced at Jimmy, who looked just as dejected.
“Unless..” Lois whispered, and Jimmy looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Unless we team up to bring the titan down. But we’ll need help, and I have just the person in mind..”
Friday.
Jimmy and Lois sat in their spinny chairs, gazing up at their new mentor in scheming and eliciting. Jimmy was giving a pleading speech: “Look, we tried everything. From insults, to sabotage and even Steve Lombard warfare, and yet Clark is still besting us with his wholesome manners.”
Lois joined in. “I insulted his hometown. I mocked his ferris wheel. I even went after apple pie, his mother’s apple pie, to be precise! If that doesn’t do it, what will?”
Cat Grant leaned lazily against Lois’ desk, sipping her coffee and looking down at both of their pleading faces. “Oh, you sweethearts, you’re aiming too low. Boy Scout probably thinks it’s a compliment when you call him boring, it’s just the way his mind works. No, you’ve got to hit him where it hurts.”
Jimmy perked up. “Like his writing?”
Lois shot him a warning look. “Jimmy, he’s been here a month. We want him to swear, not to chase him off to a different newspaper. Perry would have our hides if he found out.”
Cat smirked sweetly. “There is one thing that Clark Kent puts on a pedestal above all else.” There was a moment of silence, and Lois and Jimmy looked at each other expectantly. Cat snickered at them. “His little arrangement with Superman, duh!”
Lois and Jimmy nodded slowly. It was true that Clark greatly valued the fact that he seemed to be the only one capable of getting Superman to share a quote or two. He was a great fan of the hero and staunch defender of everything he did.
“So just fake a headline about Superman being a fraud or something. Clark’s tender heart will snap in two and he will be cursing you out in no time.”
Lois narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Hmm, a little evil, Cat, but I like it.”
“Yay!” Cat giggled. “I’m thinking big, bold headline: ‘SUPERMAN, HERO OR HOAX?’ And guess whose name goes right underneath it?”
Jimmy gasped. “Kent’s.”
Lois sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “That is diabolical.”
Cat shrugged, pulling a hand through her long hair. “I prefer inspired, or genius.”
Jimmy was practically bouncing in his chair. “We should print it out, make it look as real as possible. Plant it on Perry’s desk or something.”
Lois shook her head. “I don’t want this anywhere near Perry. No, we slip it into Kent’s proofreading stack. He’ll think someone seriously got his words twisted and that it almost made it to print, too.”
Cat pointed a manicured finger at Lois. “You’re a regular shark, Lois Lane, and I see blood in the water.”
Jimmy smiled widely. “Operation Get-Clark-Kent-to-Curse is a go.” His face fell, and he scratched his head. “I feel kinda bad about it honestly.”
Lois gently padded him on the shoulder. “You are the softest of us, Jimmy. But just think, it will make a funny story in the long run, and he might still beat us. We are done underestimating Boy Scout Kent, but he might just be polite enough to even withstand our ultimate plan.”
Cat nodded knowingly, picking up her coffee again. “It is possible. Unlikely, but possible.”
Late that evening, while Clark was out picking up their take-out order, Lois sat at her desk hunched over a mock-up front page. Jimmy hovered nervously beside her, chewing his lip as he watched the headline take shape in bold letters.
SUPERMAN: HERO OR HOAX?
by Clark Kent
Jimmy winced. “This feels mean..”
Lois smirked. “Relax, it’s just a fake page. Perry will never even breathe near it. All we need is for Kent to see it and give us a good verbal thrashing. We deserve it, I admit, after this whole week.”
They printed the page, slid it neatly into the stack of papers on Clark’s desk, making sure that it was visible, and retreated. Now all they had to do was wait.
Clark returned some minutes later and started handing out the take-out. He loosened his tie as he sank back into his chair. He glanced at his desk and spotted the headline, eyes narrowing slightly.
Lois elbowed Jimmy. This was the moment they had strived for all week. The moment that well-mannered, soft Clark Kent would blow his whistle and lay into them.
Clark picked up the paper, adjusted his glasses, and then pulled out his pen.
“Hmm, the font spacing’s uneven here,” he muttered. “And this comma should be a semicolon. That title is not at all what I meant for that piece, but it does have a nice ring to it.”
Lois groaned. “What the actual fuck, Kent.”
Clark circled another correction and nodded in satisfaction. Then he looked up at the three of them with that same infuriatingly warm smile.
“That was a good test run, you guys, thanks! I wasn’t very confident about my proofreading skills, but that makes me feel a lot better about it.”
Lois slapped her palm against her forehead. Jimmy buried his face in his hands. Cat just sighed and smiled.
“He thanked us,” Lois groaned. “He thanked us. I swear, he’s not human.”
Clark blinked, his eyes wide. “Pardon?”
“Nothing!” they all said in unison.
It took some time for the bullpen to quiet down for the night, but eventually take-out cartons littered all of their desks and the smell of sesame chicken hung in the air. Lois leaned back in her chair, chopsticks loosely in her hand. Jimmy sprawled on the edge of her desk, a tired grin on his face, while Cat scrolled on her phone.
Clark was happily packing up the cartons, stacking them neatly. “This was my treat, you guys,” he said cheerfully. “I insist, it’s the least I can do after you’ve all been so welcoming to me for the past month.”
Lois and Jimmy exchanged a long look. Without a word, they each pulled a ten-dollar bill from their pockets and slapped it into Clark’s hand.
Clark blinked in confusion. “Wait, what’s this?”
Jimmy just grinned tiredly. “Call it the price of a clear conscience.”
Lois smirked at Clark as he glanced at her. “Don’t worry about it, Smallville. Just take the money.”
Clark looked from one to the other, completely lost. “But I said I’d cover the takeout…”
They left him in the dark for now, but everyone helped Clark clean up their take-out mess and slowly gathered their things to head home. They were tired and a little defeated, but they laughed together as they headed to the elevator.
Clark trailed behind a little as he tucked the cartons away in the recycling bin. Somehow, his foot got tangled with a stray power cord and he lurched forward, nearly colliding with Jimmy.
“Son of a bi-” Clark exclaimed loudly.
Every head present whipped around to look at Clark. Lois gasped and Jimmy’s eyes went wide as saucers. Even Cat looked up from her phone in disbelief. For half a second, the bullpen itself seemed to hold its breath.
Clark straightened, adjusted his glasses, and finished calmly “-biscuit. Son of a biscuit. Sorry guys, I should’ve been paying more attention.”
The collective groan was so loud it echoed from the walls and ceiling.
Lois threw her hands in the air. “Biscuit?! Biscuit?! ” She repeated, her voice reaching a near hysterical pitch.
Jimmy buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this. We almost had him. So close!”
Cat just chuckled and shook her head.
Clark just glanced from one to another, smiling, utterly confused by sheer despair around him. “Did I miss something, again?”
Lois jabbed a finger at his chest, narrowing her eyes. “One day, Kent, one day, you’re going to slip. And when you do, I’ll be there.”
Clark chuckled softly and shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll try not to disappoint you, Miss Lane.”
Jimmy groaned again and Lois rolled her eyes. As the elevator doors slid shut on their little party, the bullpen of the Daily Planet finally fell quiet.