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skymoonandstardust · 6 years

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Office Hero Part 1

An: So, I based this story on This prompt. I don’t think I did this full justice but I tried my best, and you can let me know what you think or if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this (please bare with me-- the second part is better in my opinion lol)

It was easy to ignore the sound of clacking keys and hushed voices in the background . . .your fingers flying across the keyboard themselves as the words flowed easily (for once) putting together your article about some new store that had opened yesterday. It was easy to ignore the people constantly passing by your desk, visitors and reports coming and going, some in the reporter’s cases just taking a break to stretch their legs, walking around aimlessly alone, or in pairs of two and threes. You were used to it all, after working on the main floor of the Daily Planet for years.

. . .not even the sea of numbers you saw when you looked up from your computer was enough to throw your rhythm off. Why should it? You’d seen the numbers your entire life, floating over people’s heads. . .and it hadn’t taken long to figure out what they meant; how dangerous the person was. By the time you were five you tried to stay away from anyone with a number higher then a six. Any more then that and they were too dangerous for you at that young age. Now you were more used to the numbers, and since you’d grown up you weren’t as scared to talk to people that measured a seven or an eight. In fact, you had to a few times for your job.

You were in the middle of rewriting a sentence when you spotted it out of the corner of your eye. Immediately you looked over and focused on the tall, broad shouldered man with the nice wavy dark hair as he somewhat shyly trailed behind Lois Lane who guided him through the room, a box full of office supplies in his hands. Your eyes followed them as she lead him to a desk and they stood there talking for a second before she walked off and he sat down.

You sat there, staring a few minutes longer at him. . . and the big black 10 floating above his head.

You still remembered the first time you saw a number ten. It was just a random guy on the street who you’d seen while out walking one day. Your face had paled, and you’d immediately crossed to the other side of the road to avoid him and kept walking. You’d only seen one other ten in your life—three now, with this guy.

You turned back around to face your screen and sat there staring at it, not really seeing anything as you considered what to do next. Since he was a Ten you figured you should at least try to find out a bit about him. . . Steeling yourself you peaked over at the girl hunched over the desk across from you, typing away. What was her name again? May? Maria? Mary? You didn’t know. You never really talked to her, and she didn’t go out of her way to speak to you besides maybe a polite good morning, a quick goodbye before one of you left or a passing hello when you saw each other. Because of that mutual silence you knew she’d probably think it was weird if you spoke up now to ask about the new guy--- she might remember it and there was the chance she might not even know anything. . . but it was worth the risk of asking to find out.

“Do we have a new guy in the office?”

They looked at you for a second before their eyes flicked over to the man’s tall figure, lingered there for a second, then swooped to rest on you once again. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard about him. You didn’t know he was coming?”

“Nope.” You hesitated for a quick second before plowing on “What do you know about him?”

She smiled and the mischievous glint in her eyes told you whatever she was going to say next would be nothing good. “Why, Are you interested in him?”

Your first instinct was to laugh and brush it off, to tell her that of course you weren’t but you thought better of it at the last second and instead you just shrugged “Maybe. . .”

“I heard he moved here from some place in Kansas or something like that. . . that’s all I know, but I’m sure if you talk to him then you’ll probably learn all you want.” With that she turned back to her computer, an infuriating Cheshire cat grin on her face and started working again, leaving you sitting there high and dry.

You were 90% sure that she knew more then she told you and you internally cursed . . .you had no choice but to talk to him now.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that yet.

Instead you settled for finishing up your article and trying to subtly watch him when you could. As the day went on you only got more and more confused the longer you observed him. Whoever this guy was he definitely didn’t seem dangerous. From what you saw he was kind, friendly-- if a little shy, and nothing but polite and you only heard good things from the people who had talked to or met him by the end of the day. Honestly, he seemed more like a four or five then a ten. . . but you knew the numbers never lied. He was dangerous and worthy of the ten, you just couldn’t see why yet.

You still hadn’t figured it out by the time the work day ended, and you were saying goodbye to your desk neighbor before heading to the elevators. You couldn’t help one last look at the tall man and the ten above his head before leaving. Hitting the down button to call the elevator you stood there and got lost in your thoughts.

Well. . . whoever that guy was and whatever reason he had that ten there didn’t seem any harm in talking to him, since a couple of people had and come out unscathed. The elevator arrived, and the doors opened with a ding, interrupting your half-formed thought. You got on along with one or two other people and started the decent

I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow. . .

It’s that thought that finds you somewhat cautiously approaching his desk the next day, the butterflies of nerves sunning their wings in your stomach as you get closer to that big ten glaring like a neon sign and the figure it belonged to.

He hears you coming, he has to because he turns to face you when you’re a foot or so away. You do the first thing you can think of and hold out your hand for him to shake, flashing a bright smile “I heard you’re new here. What’s your name?” He takes your extended hand and shakes it warmly giving you a smile every bit as friendly, his calloused fingers huge against your own. You’re blinded by the perfect white teeth of that smile and his piercing gaze throws you off guard. It’s a bit at odds with openness of the rest of his nature, it’s deep and so penetrating you feel like he’s seeing straight through you—all the way to your very core, and to be honest it’s uncomfortable and a bit unsettling . But you forget all about the feeling as soon as he speaks, brushing it off as your imagination and pure stupidity.

“The name’s Clark.” He releases his grip and your hand falls limply back to your side. Is It weird that you kind of miss the warmth and feel of it? That you want him to take your hand again? Yeah—yeah of course it is. “How long have you been working for the Daily Planet?”

“Four years now” You answer brushing aside a strand of hair from your face and the thought of calloused hands holding yours at the same time.

“Impressive. You must be an expert at this then.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You say with a laugh, feeling flattered despite yourself “I’m hardly that good.”

“Still, probably better than I am.” Clark smiled ruefully, and you grinned “Ok, I’ll give you that—but don’t worry, you’ll get there, especially if you’re going to be working with Lois Lane like I’ve heard. She’s the best in the business.”

“I know. I did my research before coming here, so I’ve already heard about all twelve journalism awards she won and read all her articles.”

You nodded in appreciation and the grin grew wider “Nice—you’re going to fit in here, alright. You’ll do just fine.”

A chuckle rumbled from his lips that was so deep you could practically feel the vibrations from where you stood. There was another flash of moon white teeth “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m probably going to need all the help I can get so I’d be grateful for any ropes you could show me.”

You shifted to lean slightly against the desk, making yourself comfortable and tucking your hair behind your ear “Alright then, just consider me your unofficial mentor from now on.”

Clarks lips twitched up and if you didn’t know him better you would have said it was a smirk . . . “Thanks, will do.”

“You’re welcome.” Your conversation devolved into silence, but it only lasted a minute or two before you spoke up again “So, where are you from?” “I doubt you’ve heard of it. . . it’s a tiny town called Smallville in nowhere Kansas.” His tone dripped with good natured self-depreciation and you couldn’t resist chuckling

“You’re right—I haven’t heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised. But anyway, what about you? Have you always lived in Metropolis?”

. . . A few more minutes of polite conversation later you sighed and stood up “I guess we should both get back to work.”

“Yeah, Probably.”

“It was nice talking to you.” You said, slightly hesitant to leave—and not just because staying and talking longer would help you get more information. In the short time you’d talked, the guy had already started to grow on you.

“You too, let’s do it again sometime.”

“Definitely.”

As you walked back to your desk you assessed the conversation. Your campaign had had mixed results; you’d found out some things, but only small things, nothing important--- and you still had no clue why he was dangerous enough to have that number ten above his head. But you thought as you reached your desk and sat back down in your chair there was one thing you did know. Clark Kent wasn’t what he seemed. He was dangerous ---and you were going to find out why.

The forevers: @a-sea-of-fandoms @casownsmyass @docharleythegeekqueen @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @his-paradox @l4life @fangirl-who-dreams @sarciaczekk @esoltis280 @scarlettsoldier @thatbasicnerd4life

Office Heroes: @scionofthestars @suz-123 @aquabrie @sneakingthroughyourgifs @theresnofandomforthis

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