Who: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, and any other staff at the Daily Planet. Open to dastardly evil doers from the future. Where: Daily Planet, Metropolis. When: Friday, June 11th, 2010. Morning. What: The two top reporters at the Planet cross paths and actually exchange more than a few words. And then all Hell breaks loose.
It was hard to be Clark Kent sometimes, but then his civilian life as a reporter held its advantages as well. For one, he could follow up on police activities and investigate ongoing stories in full view, without worry of drawing any kind of suspicion. Acting in such a way helped him stay on top of a lot of matters in a way that Superman never could, and for that alone, he was thankful for his job as a journalist. But at the same time, though, he was also restricted. There were certain meetings, functions, and other responsibilities of his job that he simply could not curtail, no matter how much he would have preferred patrolling the skies of Metropolis or, in light of the current crisis, catching up with the interlopers from the future.
Rising from his desk and stretching as if he needed to, he sighed a little and walked off toward the break room. Instead of coffee, he grabbed a simple bottle from the fridge and sat down on the couch inside to just listen, not so much to his coworkers, but to the rest of the city around him, for any sign or signal that would help him in his current situation. So while it looked like he was leaning back and relaxing, he was actually deeply focused on expanded his otherworldly senses out as far as they would go.
As he closed his eyes, he became so focused on the sounds outside the Daily Planet, that he failed to notice the approach of footsteps that were all to familiar to him.