Nov 5th, 2015. Thursday. 10:45 am.
• • •

"But nothing about football. Nothing about, uh, the friends of the Metropolis Library. Just the goddamn Gotham Bat thing I told you not to pursue," Perry's voice was like when you scold a child, and there was a particular disappointment lingering behind every word.

I was walking back from the break room with coffee and stumbled upon this mini scolding. I took my seat and desperately tried not to listen in, but it was hard to dull Perry's loud voice. I glanced at Clark. He didn't seem to be too phased by all this, a bit annoyed but not angry to be chewed out by our boss.

"The police won't help, the press has to do the right thing," Clark countered.

"You don't get to decide what the right thing is."

My heart twinged at Perry's choice of words. It was parallel to how the Senate felt about Superman.

"When the Planet was founded, it stood for something, Perry,"

"And so could you if it was 1938, but it's not 1938. WPA ain't hiring no more. Apples don't cost a nickel. Not in here, not out there. You drop this thing! Nobody cares about Clark Kent taking on the Batman." Perry finishes the conversation, walking off.

• • •
2:45 pm.
• • •

Clark's jaw is tight and he aggressively types. He's been tapping away at his keyboard for hours with a permanent frown. I pulled out my phone and shot him a text:

Don't sweat it. Perry isn't in the best mood. He chewed me out before you got here.

I set my phone down and logged into my Dropbox to look for additional notes on the article I sent to Perry. In the margins in the neat red text were dozens of Perry's thoughts. I sighed and began to read through them.

Clark's message flashed across my phone screen:

I shouldn't be writing about Sports. What did he get on you about?

I sighed quickly texting back:

My research on Batman isn't thorough enough. He says it lacks emotion. Clark, it's not that you shouldn't be writing about sports it's that you don't want to be.

I sent it off and turned to look at him. He was frowning down at something on his desk. Concerned, I typed out a text to him, but when I looked up, he was already gone.

"Fuck." Quickly I walked to his area. There wasn't anything left on his desk. He must've taken it with him.

On the floor though was a Polaroid. I picked it up and turned it over. The face of a dead man on a coroners table greeted me. I recognized him as the man from the newspaper. The one who was branded by the Bat logo. Underneath in hasty red ink was the word Jury.

I knew Clark was going after this lead. I ran back to my desk grabbed my coat, phone, and purse.

"Perry. I need to go to Gotham. I just got a lead," I popped my head into his office.

He looked at me over his glasses, "What are you still standing here for. Go."

• • •
3:15 pm.
• • •

"Clark."

I exit my cab to see him standing outside of the Gotham police station. He was watching a woman walk away, but turned to me when he heard my voice.

"Clark. Who sent this to you?" I asked handing him the photo.

"I got it in the mail at work,"

"Why did they send this to you? I'm the one working on this, not you. How are you not concerned about this?"

"Why does it matter who sent me what? I'm getting the information I need. The evidence is stacking up against Batman," He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at me. He was angry.

"It's the fact that you're getting the information, to begin with, Clark. You're not going to listen to me, are you?" I stepped closer to him, "I want you to think. I'll help piece this all together, but I need to be the one who hands in this work, not you,"

He sighed, "He leaves his brand on them and doesn't care that they're killed because of it. I need to send him a message,"

"How about we get back to the office first? I'm almost done with my article, and you need to start yours. Dinner at my place tonight?"

Clark nodded, leaning down to kiss my temple, "I'll bring the wine."

• • •
8:55pm.
• • •

I sat at my table right knee to my chest, left leg dangling off the chair, my toes skimming the ground. I checked my last message to Clark.

Dinner at eight sound good?

He had responded two minutes later with a yes. I sighed checking the time before glancing at the cold pasta. Annoyed that I was stood up and angry that he was probably off chasing Batman I trashed the pasta and turned off my kitchen lights. I took the last bit of wine I had left in the bottle with me to my room.

He was hell bent on stopping this man that I was coming in second. I sighed and hoped I was making the right decision by calling her.

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lois. It's Annie."

"Oh, hi. What can I do for you?" She seemed surprised to hear from me.

"I didn't know who else to call. Clark is becoming obsessed with this Bat thing. I can't help but think it has something to do with all the press he's been getting."

I hear her take in a breath as if she's deciding on whether or not to tell me something, "In August when I was ambushed. A bullet was fired that lodged into my journal. I've been tracking down the manufacture."

"Why is this bullet so different?"

"It's been analyzed, and it's not like any I've ever seen. I think it's meant to harm him."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I've got a gut feeling that I'm right. Annie, this is bigger than this hearing or the Batman. Someone is trying to harm Clark. I'll figure this out and keep you up to date. Just...try to keep him grounded."

She hung up, and I stared down at the phone.

Everything just got way more complicated.

• • •

Sorry for being gone for so long!
Let me know what you think. The more I watch Batman v Superman, the more I like the movie. I already liked it a lot, but it just gets better with every watch in my opinion.

Next chapter is them spending time outside of work and then the dinner with their moms! Who is excited about that?
Maybe one more filler chapter before the bombing of the capital. It's picking up I swear.