The elevator dinged as you stepped out 15 minutes late, coffee in hand, and zero apologies on your face. You strutted into the conference room filled with Daily Planet staff, all eyes locking on you like a movie scene. At the head of the table stood Clark Kent, crisp suit, sleeves rolled just enough to flex, eyes sharp behind those glasses. He paused mid-sentence, gaze dropping to your unapologetic expression.

You flashed a charming smile. “Morning.”

“Nice of you to join us,” Clark said, voice calm but laced with authority. “Care to introduce yourself? Since you’ve already made an impression.”

You glanced at the crowd, then back at him.

“Of course.” You walked to the front with a confidence that filled the room.

A couple coworkers stifled laughs. Clark didn’t. Instead, he gave you a look unreadable, borderline amused.

“I hope your work is as bold as your entrance,” he said.

You smirked, raising your cup. “Guess we’ll both find out.”

The tension in the air crackled not the awkward kind, but the kind that made you wonder who was really in control. And Clark? He wasn’t so sure anymore.