Layouts and Coffee

One: Wa-Pow!

The elevator dings open, and I squeeze my way onto the 23rd floor of CatCo Plaza. I balance the tray I carry with little effort, containing a small breakfast bag and a hot latte from Noonan's. This isn't for me, of course. My boss, Cat Grant, requires me to bring her food so she doesn't have to do so in the morning. Being the CEO, she has a lot on her plate as it is. I'm just here to help whenever she needs it.
I start making my way to my desk, which is beside Ms. Grant's office, and I see a familiar face approach me, excitedly following me.
"Did you see this?" He asks, displaying a tablet to me, "There was an armoured car robbery last night, and there were no witnesses except this homeless guy who swears the perp had horns!"
I stopped briefly to pick up a layout from the Digital correspondent, but he wasn't finished.
"Like, on his head!" His voice rose giddily, "I'm telling you, they're out there! Aliens!"
"Winn, there are no such thing as aliens." I tell him, dodging that tug in my gut that begs me to tell him my secret.
We've been friends ever since college, where we met by chance in a lunchroom. He's always been a bit of a conspiracy theorist, but it's hard not to want to confirm his suspicions.
However, there are no other aliens here other than my cousin and I.
"Well," Winn says, "You might feel different if you read this website."
"You write that website!" I laugh, going to my desk and setting down my belongings and Ms. Grants breakfast.
"I-I contribute..." Winn stutters. He has a habit of stuttering. I have learned to ignore it after so many years of hearing it.
"Hey, um..."
I turn around and look back at Winn.
"I was wondering if maybe you wanna, I don't know, go see -- go see a movie tonight?"
"I-I can't, I-I'm sorry!" My turn to stutter. I inhale deeply, "I have a date!" I go around my desk and start organizing my day.
"A date. Really?"
I chuckle in confirmation.
"That's great... Fun, dating's fun... Who-who's that with?" Winn says in a sort of lost tone.
"It's an online date," I say, setting my bag down next to my chair, "It says we are '82% compatible'. So, should be good." I smile, sitting down at my desk.
"You know you can quantify emotions based on an algorithm." Winn interjects, staring at me.
"Winn, you're IT," I say, "Isn't your entire life based on algorithms?"
"Yeah, so if there was an algorithm for love, I'm pretty sure I'd know about it!" Winn chuckles airily, "Just like you're gonna know when it hits you, Kara. It'll be all," he makes a fist and gently punches the air in my direction, "Wa-pow!"
I smile, but then get distracted suddenly by the elevator shaft behind me. I strain and activate my super-hearing, and catch a small bit of the annoyed tone of Cat Grant from the elevator:
"*exasperated sigh* This elevator is a human petri-dish. It's like standing up in coach!"
Isn't it lucky Ms. Grant talks to herself a lot?
"She's here!" I alert Winn, standing up.
"How do you do that?" Winn asks incredulously, standing up. I've never been wrong.
The elevator opens and I greet my boss, "Good Morning, Ms. Grant!"
Cat storms out of the elevator, and I follow a few steps behind as she makes her way to her office, ranting the entire way, "The only reason I bought this building was because it had a private elevator. That way, I don't have to get soaked in cheap cologne every morning getting to my office, find out who used it, have them reprimanded... or bathed, I don't care which..."
Good ol' Cat Grant style 'Good Morning'.
"Here's your latte," I say, handing it to her, "Hot."
Ms. Grant sighs as she takes it from me, "Oh, that'll be new and different."
Another thing I've gotten used to: condescending tones.
"I have a meeting with the board today at lunch," Cat informs me, striding away to her desk, "so cancel sushi with my mother. Oh, and cancel my therapist," she turns to me, "I won't be needing it if I'm not having lunch with my mother."
"Got it." I say, jotting down notes.
Ms. Grant takes a sip from her cup, cringes, and drops it into the trash bin, "Also, I've emailed a list. Prepared termination letters for the Tribune employees as noted."
I look up from my note-taking, confusion washing over me.
"But it would be so nice if you hand wrote them... Use the lesser card stock..."
"You're downsizing the Tribune?" I say with an air of disbelief, "But... That was your first acquisition!"
"Go see if the new Art Director has the layout ready." Ms. Grant tells me, ignoring my question and comment.
I struggle to find words, pity filling me for the Tribune employees.
"It's not that I don't see your frown, it's that I don't care enough to ask why it's there." Ms. Grant says drily.
I still struggle to form sentences, but I try anyways, "All those people... They're going to lose their jobs. Wh-what's going to happen to them, to their families? They don't have to downsize at the Daily Planet."
Ms. Grant looks up at me, disgust entering her eyes. I recoil slightly, realizing I've overstepped.
"Metropolis has a person who wears a cape and flies around performing heroic acts." Ms. Grant places the paper she is holding down on the table, "The Planet puts this superlative man on their cover 54% of the time," she pulls off her heels, tossing them under her desk a bit carelessly, "You want to save the Trib? Go find me a hero, Ker-ah."
I suppress the want to roll my eyes and instead turn around, muttering the correct pronunciation of my name under my breath.

***

I enter the Art Director's office through these fancy glass doors, calling out, "Hello!"
There's no answer, and I approach a desk with a bunch of cameras on it, "Hello?"
"I'll be just a minute," a female voice calls back.
"Um, Ms. Grant sent me for layouts, and she doesn't like to wait." I say, attempting to sound more authoritative than I am normally. I need to make sure the new person knows that there's no slacking around here.
I turn a corner, and see a woman unpacking boxes, "Um, she can wait a minute."
I laugh condescendingly, "Have you met Ms. Grant?"
"Yeah, and what's she gonna do? Fire me right after hiring me? Her loss." The woman turns around, and finally spots me.
I'm busy looking at the many newspaper clippings on the walls and when I finally meet the eyes of the girl, my heart stops.
She smiles, and stands, wiping her hands on her jeans, "Hey! I'm the new girl." She smiles widely, and it makes her 10000000x prettier.
I laugh and tear my gaze away from her face, my heart a rapidly beating mess, an almost welcome change from its freeze a few seconds before. Except now I can feel the blood rising to my cheeks. I look around desperately for something to look at, and see a picture that looks very familiar.
"Oh! Oh, it's him!" I stride towards the picture of my cousin, arms stretched out in front, flying smoothly into the sky, and see the girl follow my gaze to it, "I've seen this, like, a million times! It won a Pulitzer," I pick it up, "Wow."
"Yeah, only because it was the first real shot of him," she explains, "Little secret: he actually posed for that. Guess he liked me."
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I twirl around, picture still in hand, "Oh, my god. You're Lexie Danvers, the photographer from the Daily Planet!"
"Alex Danvers." She corrects me, "Well, Lexie is reserved for my mom and the big guy. He's kind of stuck in his ways."
"Um," I glance down quickly at the picture in my hands, and back up to Alex, "I-I know what I've read, but... Um, what's he like in real life?"
Alex sighs, and looks as though she's thinking, "He is... Everything you want him to be, and more? I mean..." She chuckles, "I was scared at first, to move out here. But, um, he told me the biggest risk is never taking any, so..."
I smile, and look back down at my cousin's form.
"Take it."
"Hm?" I startled at her voice.
"Take it!"
"What, this?" I say not sure I heard her right, "Oh, God, no, I can't. I can't"
"It's just a print," she reassures me, "Please, take it. But first, you have to tell me who you are."
My heart falls to the floor. Crap, did Kal-El tell her who I was? Was she sent here for me? Does she know who I am? Oh, God, oh, God-
She leans forward slightly when I hesitate, "I never got your name."
Relief washes over me, and I laugh, "Oh, pfft. Gosh, hi." I laugh, stumbling over my tongue. She just smiles encouragingly at me.
"Yup. Um, Kara." I extend my hand, "Kara Olsen."
"Kara." Alex says, feeling my name on her tongue. She takes my hand, her skin like fire against mine.
She observes my face for a moment, then comes closer, "Anyone ever tell you, you look a little like him, right here?" She says, gesturing to my nose and eyes.
"Uh, no." I'm stumbling over my words again, "Nope, no, you're-you're the first."
She raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement, as if realizing she'd be the only person able to make a comment like that.
"Um, thank you," I say, lifting the picture slightly.
"Yeah,"
"Very much," I make my way towards the door.
"Of course."
"Okay, bye." My voice is hardly a whisper.
"Oh!" Alex catches my attention, and gestures to a light-table, "Layouts."
I chuckle slightly, "Right," more chuckling, "Almost forgot them." I pick them up, "Alright, bye!" I say, making my way back out the door.
As I exit, the picture gripped firmly in my hand, only one thought surfaces.
"Wa-pow!" I whisper under my breath.