2013.10.11 - You Almost Got Me

Despite the evening growing late, there is still plenty of activity in the newsroom of the Daily Planet. The news never sleeps, and those who report it can almost make that same claim. Unmistakably wide awake herself, Lois Lane is at her corner cubicle, granting her a view of both the city and the door to the lobby. Neither of which she is appreciating right now, as she sits at her computer, her fingers moving deftly over the keys. Her eyes are glued to the notepad that she has opened on the desk, and she never once looks at what she's typing. Maybe that's a contributing factor to why her spelling is so bad, her typing is decent but not that good.

She's wearing a green silk, button-front shirt, dark grey slacks, and a matching jacket is tossed over on a chair that vaguely faces her desk. Her dark hair is loose, and hangs in waves over her shoulders as she works. Despite the buzz of conversation around her, she's totally absorbed in what she's writing.

A young man enters from the lobby after introducing himself and stating who he is here to speak with. He wears a snug, light turtle neck colored a medium blue that offsets his eyes. His sunglasses are propped atop his head, and he is wearing white slacks. On his feet are white loafers. Stylish and relaxed is the basic look, and leave it to the guy to look properly windblown even as if he just stepped off a darn magazine cover!

Still, it is perhaps what he is carrying within one hand seemingly casually at his side that draws most people's attention. The young man by the name of Leo Luthor is carrying a small bouquet of flowers. The flowers are red tulips with white edges and bright friendly yellow daisies.

And after a brief look about, Leo is heading toward Lois' desk.

It's the ringing of the phone that draws Lois' attention, and she frowns as she reaches for it. The display indicates it's the receptionist, so she says gruffly, "This better be good, Mary." She doesn't like her train of thought to be derailed in the middle of a story. There's a moment as Lois listens, then her eyes swivel to the door, and the already approaching Luthor. "Yes, I see. Thanks." The phone is returned to the cradle and Lois stands, turning toward him and forcing up a pleasant smile. "Leo Luthor, isn't it?" Her eyes hold on his face, never once looking at the bouquet, and she can already imagine the ribbing she's going to take for this. She doesn't have to look around to feel the eyes on them.

No roses though or anything too intimidate. It's a pretty bouquet and friendly. "Yes, it is." And the young man smiles, coming to a stop before Lois' desk which looks like something threw up on it. Ah, the busy lifestyle of a news reporter. But he then raises the bouquet and offers it, with only the slightest awkwardness, "I wanted to apologize for the rush appearance and departure before. I realized after the fact it likely appeared a bit rude." And the smile he shows then is a little sheepish.

There's a hesitation, barely noticeable but still there, before Lois reaches to accept the flowers. "Thank you, but it was totally understandable. A board room is the last place I'd expect a young man to want to spend his time." There's no coldness in her tone, but there's not much warmth either. She's accustomed to keeping neutral.

A shrug, "Eh, it's a place like any other. I already spend time there when working on projects with Father." Leo tilts his head slightly, appearing curious. He isn't sure what to make of Lois really right now, though he does hook his thumbs into his front pockets, hanging his fingers outside of them casually. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable." He doesn't seem overly conscious of the fact that the two of them are likely being watched.

Lois is aware of that fact enough for the both of them, but her mannerisms don't change a bit. She's got a hell of a poker face, and has been banned for life from the office monthly games. "Uncomfortable? No, not at all." Not nearly as uncomfortable as she is right now. Her eyes, which had been holding steadily on Leo's face, shift and scan her desk. She reaches over, to a bastion of clear space, and plops the flower stems into her glass of water. "It was very thoughtful of you to come by," she says as she straightens. It's not exactly a dismissal, but she's not inviting him to sit, either.

A pause, "Remind me not to play poker with you Lois," Leo advises. Other than Lois' heart rate, everything seems so...'normal'. He then shrugs, a simple geasture on the surface. "Well, if you don't have any questions, then I'll be on my way." And he smirks a bit, suddenly appearing amused. "Enjoy the office gossip." Wait, how does he KNOW?! But Leo moves to turn away as if to take his leave.

That remark, while cheeky, does bring a hint of amusement to Lois' eyes. "You're clearly a smart young man." The words are easy, the same tone, and remain so as she replies to his comment, "It's surprising how much like a hen house a newsroom is. A lot of clucking goes on." That's as much for her fellow reporters who are gathered around one desk, not even attempting to look like they're not watching the pair, as it is for Leo. Two of the men drift away, but a woman and a man stay, like vultures.

Leo pauses, only partially turned. A lazy smile curls about his lips. "Youths are no better," he advises. "It gets boring rather quickly however, as most of what is said is not true and created for the tellers own amusement. I have more respect for honest reporting."

Yes, he certainly does seem intelligent. Lois' lips curve again, but there's still no real warmth in it. "Fortunately, the hens write much better than they act. We do pride ourselves on our integrity." Of course, she does speak for herself more than anyone else, and certainly not for everyone on staff. There are always those few that are just good enough to get taken on at The Planet, but could easily be knocked over to The Bugle. "Are you interested in writing?"

"A little," Leo admits. "Not so much reporting however, but in creating and drafting policies and law. I'm majoring in Communications and minoring in Criminal Justice," he informs Lois quite willingly, not thinking twice about it. "It's really hard to write an interesting article though without slipping some sort of personal biasedness into it. I would call journalism an 'art form' or a 'science' as a result, depending on one's preference. Not just anyone could do it, let alone well."

One manicured brow lifts at the information Leo provides, and Lois asks, "You're in school then? Where do you attend?" She has a way of sounding nothing more than conversational, and it puts a lot of people at ease. And when people think they're just having a conversation, they say more. Some of her best leads have come from people who didn't even realize they were saying something important.

Leo appears more amused, "Academy of Tomorrow, Freshman. Would you like my blood type and birth sign as well?" He winks at Lois, humor reflected in his tone. "You really are good, I almost didn't catch that."

The wink raises her brow again, as it did yesterday, but still, that mild expression, giving away little. As if on cue, her eyes take a mildly puzzled cast, "Catch what?" There's a flash of amusement, before she looks to her computer, and back to Leo. "I hate to seem short, but I'm afraid I was in the middle of a story and I have a deadline looming. But the flowers were very thoughtful, Leo, thank you."

"Sure thing Lois," Leo says with some warmth. "If you change my mind though, look me up and 'not-interrogate' me some more. I kinda like it." Again, humor, and not any real seriousness. "Actually, I'd just want to pick your brain in return." But he finally says, "See ya," as he turns to take his leave fully as he almost did earlier. He nods at a few people as he passes, giving Cat Grant a playful wink and a, "Hiiii," before he's out of there before she can really sink her claws into him. Yep, he has a sense of humor.