WHO: Lois Lane WHAT: trying to find a balance WHEN: Saturday afternoon WHERE: the newspaper STATUS: complete (narrative)
It seemed lately to be a recurring theme in the morning meetings. No matter how busy a news day they were having Lois was regulated to another damn human interest story. Something light, feel good, and without a hint of anything interesting being able to happen when she questioned anyone. Each interview happened either at the office or in what seemed to be frequently more well protected homes of a random Lawrence citizen. First the gated apartment complex with the first puppy birth of the year in the city, then various gated communities around the place. It was enough to drive her insane.
She knew Max was trying to look out for her well-being. Knew he was worried she’d get herself into some kind of trouble again and didn’t want to see her in the hospital. Hell, she didn’t want to end up in a hospital ever again if she could help it, but that didn’t mean she was okay with every human interest story being thrust into her hands. Especially when it seemed that she wasn’t even getting most of those if they were deemed “too risky” by the editor. Apparently interviewing a toy store manager was put in that category because the shop was on the street next to the one she’d been shot on.
If anyone was supposed to have an issue with being on that street, Lois figured it should be her, but she’d forced herself to walk down that block every day since being allowed out of the complex. She wasn’t about to let the incident scare her from living her life and part of doing that meant being able to walk past the portion of the sidewalk without freaking out. She’d been successful in that and the fact that everyone else seemed to still walk on eggshells around her at work was beginning to piss her off.
It had been nice at first when Jerry had taken to making her copies when she returned at the beginning of the month. Or when some of the others made sure her coffee was always topped off so she didn’t have to head to the breakroom to do it. Lately though she’d noticed the looks directed her way, the worry etched on her coworkers faces when she stretched and groaned over a simple sore muscle, the quiet conversations that she picked up on, hearing snippets of concern over her well-being. Snapping at people wouldn’t help, she knew that, but it was getting harder to refrain from doing exactly that with each passing day.
It all came to a crashing halt when Max gave Carol the mayor story. The one she had been working on since before the whole damn Moriarty mess. Somehow Lois had refrained from commenting about it and took her damn bunny story, went through the motions of interviewing the owner and making sure Jerry got the pictures for it. Once she saw the article that was going to be printed the next day though she couldn’t refrain from it any longer. There hadn’t been a damn thing about the embezzled campaign funds, nothing about the mistress and her brand new toys or apartment. Just countless questions on his favorite foods, his workout routine, and some much drivel that Lois couldn’t help but barge into Max’s office before the end of her shift.
From the weary look on the older man’s face, she knew he’d been expecting her to come in. “Lois--”
“What the hell?” she growled, not caring that she was interrupting him and slapped the paper down on the desk in front of him. “How is this reporting? How is this letting the public know the truth about what is happening in that office? I could have written a more factually important article in my damn sleep, Max.”
“An article that would have the mayor gunning for your head,” Max started, and from the emphasis on the word gunning, Lois knew he meant that literally happening again.
“So what, now we’re not reporting the news because it might be a little dangerous?” Was she hearing this correctly? She couldn’t be hearing this correctly. Whatever happened to truth and justice? God, her head hurt.
“No, it means that you won’t be the one reporting on it. Carol was obviously not the correct choice for this one, but there will be other opportunities to nail the sonofabitch for what he’s doing and I’ll assign the right reporter for the job.”
“Except you won’t because you’re refusing to let me have a go at him.” Maybe that was a little egotistical. There probably were a number of other reporters in the building who would do a better job than Carol had, but all Lois could see was that Max was obviously not going to let her take a crack at him for fear of her safety. “So is this how it’s going to be from now on? Regulate me to the human interest pieces? To all the soft news you can get your hands on?”
“Your piece on the man with the Christmas lights was the article to receive the most emailed responses from the public this year.” She simply stared at him, unable to believe she’d basically been given an affirmative answer to her fears. “And I’m sure the piece you write on the rabbit that acts as a personal helper will be phenomenal as well.” He couldn’t be serious. “In case you hadn’t noticed I consider all of us to be a family around here. You were shot once already, Sullivan, and I’m not about to let one of my best reporters barrel out there head first to get injured all over again.”
She tried not to wince at that, a mixture of the constant reminder to what had happened and her cousin’s last name. God, she missed Chloe some days. “You’re one of the most ballsy reporters I’ve ever met, and while that certainly gets you a helluva story most days, I’m not ready to risk you doing so again yet. But you’ll need to excuse me; if I’m late for dinner one more night Alice will have my head.”
Lois was too numb to even respond as she watched the man exit the office in a hurry, not giving her a chance to formulate a retort. She looked down at the paper she’d slapped onto his desk, glaring at the byline and cushy story that was above the centerfold. If Max wasn’t going to give her permission to get the information that she needed then maybe she’d just do it herself, write the damn article, and ask for forgiveness afterward. Maybe she needed to prove that she could still handle herself without getting into harm’s way. So she was ballsy, so maybe her own safety was a secondary or...okay, possibly a third or fourth area of concern for her when she was knee deep in what she was doing. Didn’t that make her even better at her job?
She left the room, heading toward her desk with the intent of grabbing her purse and phone and staking out the mayor to get the confirmation she needed without letting anyone in on where she was headed. Ready to prove to the lot of them that one trip the hospital wasn’t about to put her out of the game. She’d show each and every one of them just how good a damn reporter she could be.
If she hadn’t needed to stop at the desk maybe she’d have been able to go through with it. Then she wouldn’t have come across Aislinn’s photograph taped up against her computer screen. Wouldn’t have seen the Superman action figure laying on it’s side nearby. Or the tin of nearly eaten cookies from Kon. The wedding magazine with pages marked to show Abby for the engagement party. Little reminders of why she couldn’t go running off without considering the consequences of what could happen.
Lois sank down onto her chair, wincing slightly at the tension in her shoulder, a constant reminder of what had happened not too long ago because she hadn’t thought everything through all that well. She’d run right into that story, not caring about the consequences. Her one focus uncovering the truth and nothing else. She hadn’t bothered to worry about what could happen to her as she turned over each new piece of information, not even when Emma had warned her to be careful. All the warning bells had only solidified that she’d been on the right path.
And what had happened? She’d gotten hurt and in the process hurt those she cared about more than anything in the world. Lois never wanted to wake up to the see the worry that had been etched into Clark’s weary features when she’d seen him from the hospital bed. Never wanted to see the relief in Emma’s eyes or the nervousness Kon had carried around her for awhile after the whole ordeal. What good was finally uncovering the story of a lifetime if she wasn’t alive to tell it, alive to share it with any of them?
She knew she needed to rethink her no holds barred back policy when it came to reporting, or at least figure out a way to do it in a safer capacity but she was at a loss for how to go about doing that. Even more so at a loss for getting Max to give her a chance to look into a story with actual substance. Glancing across her desk at Clark’s empty one, Lois knew at least one of her answers laid in the man who usually sat there. She knew he’d have no problem partnering up with her on stories and how much safer could she possibly be than working one-on-one with Superman? Wasn’t that what he’d told her he’d do since she’d started at the paper with him? If she thought she was in trouble he’d willingly go with her to meet a source but she didn’t want to add that burden to everything else he had on his plate.
Though, just maybe, it was better for him to deal with accompanying her on her stakeouts and meetings than having to handle her being hooked up to a ventilator again. Or worse.
She righted the Superman figure, frowning down at it before making it fall over again. How cliche was this going to be? Especially for them in a building full of people who liked making countless Lois and Clark jokes a day.
Lois sighed and gathered her belongings before turning off the light to her desk and snagging the last cookie. Maybe this was one of those times where she was going to need to suck it up and embrace the damn cliche that was their lives. Nothing had to be decided that night anyway. She’d mull over it for a few days and hopefully come up with a better solution. Even if anything was better than her current situation.