Tuesday, May 19th, 2009, 6:47 PM
Metropolis
Daily Planet Building, 34th Floor
James flicked the darkroom light off and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the newsroom's fluorescent assault. Twenty-four faces stared up at him from the photos in his hand. People who'd walked out their front doors in Suicide Slum and never walked back in.
"Lane! Where the hell is my Luthor piece?"
Perry's voice cut through the newsroom like a buzzsaw. The man could probably wake the dead with that bellow. James had seen seasoned reporters actually flinch when Perry got going, but Lois just kept typing like her editor was background noise.
"Ten minutes, Chief. I'm connecting some dots that are gonna make your head spin."
"I don't want my head spinning, I want copy!"
Same old dance. James walked past their daily Perry-versus-Lois showdown, dodging Cat Grant who was practically purring into her phone about some society scandal. Steve Lombard had his feet up on his desk, tossing a baseball and catching it one-handed while he proofread his sports column.
The guy was showing off, but honestly? James was impressed anyone could multitask like that.
"Jimmy!"
He turned and there was Kara, blonde ponytail bouncing as she jogged over. Something about her always made his brain go a little stupid. Maybe it was the way she smiled like she actually gave a damn about whatever boring thing he was working on. Maybe it was how she managed to look like a fashion magazine cover even after sitting through three hours of city council meetings.
"Hey." Real smooth, Olsen. "How'd the parking meter saga go?"
"Riveting as always. Councilman Hayes spent forty minutes explaining why charging an extra quarter would destroy the fabric of democracy." She rolled her eyes, then nodded at the photos. "What's got you looking so serious?"
James hesitated. Most people's eyes glazed over when he talked about missing persons from the slums. But Kara wasn't most people.
"Missing folks from Suicide Slum. Trying to figure out if someone's playing games or if it's just bad luck."
Her whole demeanor shifted. The playful energy died, replaced by something James couldn't quite read. Like she knew more about this stuff than a reporter covering city politics should.
"These people... they matter. Their stories matter."
The way she said it hit him right in the chest. Not pity, not the fake concern people put on when they wanted to sound compassionate. Real anger that someone could just disappear and nobody would care.
"Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself when I'm looking at these faces." He spread the photos on Ron Troupe's empty desk. "Look at Maria Santos. Nineteen, honor student. Disappeared walking home from work. Tommy Kowalski, construction worker, had a girlfriend he was gonna propose to. These aren't people who just vanish into thin air."
Kara leaned in to look closer, and suddenly James caught her perfume. Something light that made him forget what the hell he was talking about. When she looked up, her face was maybe six inches from his.
"You see them. Really see them."
Her voice was soft, and there was something in her eyes that made his heart start doing weird things. She glanced down at his lips for just a second, and James felt like every nerve in his body had caught fire.
This was happening. This was actually happening.
"GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!"
Perry's roar shattered whatever moment they'd been having. Kara jumped back like she'd been shocked, her cheeks turning pink as she suddenly became very interested in organizing his photos.
"Breaking news! Something big going down at Metropolis Harbor!"
The newsroom exploded. Reporters grabbed coats, photographers checked their equipment, police scanners started chattering. James felt that familiar buzz, the electric feeling that came with real news breaking. But underneath it was pure frustration that Perry had just torpedoed what might've been the best moment of his entire life.
"I should..." Kara gestured toward the chaos, then back at him. "Maybe we can finish this conversation later?"
"Yeah, definitely." He tried to sound casual instead of like a teenager whose mom had just walked in at the worst possible moment. "Go chase down some news."
She laughed, and the sound made something in his chest go tight. "I'll leave the superhero stuff to Superman."
As she hurried off to join the other reporters, James gathered his photos and slumped into his desk chair. The newsroom was clearing out fast, everyone rushing to cover whatever was happening at the harbor. Soon it was just him, his computer, and two dozen faces of people nobody seemed to care about.
He pulled up his story file: "The Vanishing: Missing Persons in Suicide Slum." God, even the title sounded boring. How do you make people care about Maria Santos when they can't even be bothered to care about their next-door neighbors?
His phone buzzed. Text from Clark: Working late again? Eat something that isn't from a vending machine.
James smiled despite his mood. Says the guy who lives on coffee and whatever Lois smuggles him.
That's different. Fast metabolism.
Right. Your "fast metabolism." That what we're calling it now?
Pause. Then: Be careful going home tonight. Weird stuff happening around the city.
James frowned at his phone. Clark had been doing this more and more lately, these vague warnings that seemed to come out of nowhere. Like he had some kind of inside track on trouble.
Define weird, he typed.
Just... pay attention. Maybe take a cab instead of walking.
Before James could ask what the hell that meant, emergency alerts started flooding his phone. Seismic activity at Metropolis Harbor. The same harbor where half the Daily Planet had just rushed off to.
He looked around the empty newsroom, then at his computer screen. The missing persons story would be there tomorrow. Right now, something big was happening, and every instinct he had was screaming at him to grab his camera and go document it.
James slung his camera bag over his shoulder and headed for the elevator. As the doors closed, he caught his reflection in the polished steel. Tired eyes, red hair that looked like he'd been running his hands through it, stubble that suggested he'd forgotten to shave. And Kara had almost kissed this face.
The thought made him grin as the elevator dropped toward the lobby, carrying him toward whatever fresh hell was about to break loose in Metropolis Harbor.
He had no idea that in a few hours, James Olsen as he knew himself would cease to exist.