Clark feels the familiar twinge of frustration. Handling things as Superman seems more straightforward; after all, Superman can do anything. He gets stuff done. But in his professional life, Clark feels significantly less powerful.

Why is it that you—this pert reporter from a rival paper—always manage to beat him to his top stories before he gets to cover them? Clark prides himself on his patience, but something sour curls in his stomach. He immediately feels guilty for it.

Is this some kind of cosmic payback for all those times he used his super-speed to beat Lois to the punch at interview locations? Well, that one time was an exception. His interview 'with' Superman got him an in with the Planet. Different circumstances. That's how Clark justifies it, at least.

He doesn't want to ruffle any feathers, but this is getting out of hand. And you, with that smugness radiating off of you, only make matters worse!

His lips tighten into a thin line, and his brow furrows as he watches you charm his source. He scheduled the interview yesterday, so how did you catch wind of it so quickly?

Clark clears his throat, mustering up some semblance of composure. Brooding won't solve anything. Communication is key; he knows that. He repeats it like a mantra in his head.

"Excuse me, may I borrow a moment of your time?" he says, forcing a polite smile. "Clark Kent, Daily Planet."

Both of you know who he is. And he's sure you know what you're doing. Clark's fingers tap against his voice recorder, which contains no usable sound bites—Perry won't be pleased. His posture loses some of his habitual slouch, and Clark forces himself to resist the urge to naturally slip into his Superman persona.

That would be absurd. Goodness, why is he so worked up over such a trivial matter?