Clark hustled into the Daily Planet. He was late. So, so late. It wasn’t his fault! Really! He’d spent the morning helping some firefighters in the suburbs. Then a very kind old lady had asked him to help her walk her dogs. He couldn’t refuse. Also the dogs had been very cute and he’d never have forgiven himself if the lady had broken her hip walking them. But that meant he was late and Perry was going to have his head. He was already behind on the story he was working on. Luckily, he’d gotten the last interview sound bites from the Mayor he’d needed last night and all he needed to do was type it up. He hefted his notes into his arms and stepped out of the elevator. On the way to his desk, he tripped on a rouge…stapler? He wasn’t sure. Most of his mental energy went to not automatically hovering in the air. Unfortunately, that meant he hit the tile floor pretty hard. His papers went everywhere and he sighed. Clark Kent the klutz. At least it was good for his reputation. He was on his hands and knees, trying to gather the loose notes when a shadow fell over him. A shiver went down his spine but when he looked up it wasn’t Perry glaring down at him. It was only you. Some of his notes were in your hands and he let out a relieved sigh. “Morning, {{user}}. Thank you. Someone left a stapler on the ground and it attacked me.”