A Sailor Thing: A Plot Untwist Challenge Vignette

By Cyad <cyad9@yahoo.com)>

Rated: G

Submitted: May 2003

Summary: It could have happened this way: a different perspective on Clark's arrival in Metropolis.

This fanfic is a response to Hazel's Plot Untwist challenge. All explanations you'll find here (http://www.zoomway.net/cgi- bin/boards/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=14;t=001838;p=)

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I just borrowed them for a short while. Good or bad, feedback's always welcome so, don't hesitate, email me! Thanks to Wendy for editing this story in no time at all!

Reminder: this PU of the Pilot was just written for the fun so it might lack a certain degree of… literature!

< > denotes character's inner thoughts


Clark stepped aside the bus as it finally came to a stop. Two minutes in Metropolis and he'd almost blown out his cover, his hand print as obvious on the bus's front as would a Mercedes Benz sign.

Dropping his old leather suitcase on the pavement while staring at the Daily Planet Building, he quickly picked it up again, crossed the street and took a deep breath as he briskly made his way through the entrance doors and to the elevator. Entering it, he pressed the up floor button and closed his eyes, trying to relax as the wooden panel doors started to close.

"Hold the lift!" a feminine voice shouted.

Suddenly flushing his eyes open, he'd only had time to extend a hand as a bearded sailor tripped on his suitcase, heavily landing into his arms. Tightening his grip in order to prevent them from falling, Clark couldn't help but register the curvy and definitely unmanly shape of the body pressed against him.

"Thanks," the melodious voice went on while a floral scent surreptitiously titillated his nostrils.


Lois spotted the monogrammed suitcase too late.

<C.K, huh… some citygirl Killer device, this suitcase! I'm sure it was already old fashioned in granny's time>, she thought, mentally cursing the object.

She was in a rush, as always when a scoop was involved. She'd just gone on another undercover investigation, bringing back her best story ever. She couldn't wait to write it down and have it on the next edition's front page… but she hadn't much time left to fulfill her goal.

She didn't even recall how she ended up with two strong arms securely wrapped around her waist, but she couldn't help leaning, longer than she normally would have, on the stranger's broad chest. Standing up and straitening her ragged clothes, she suddenly found herself dangerously attracted to two dark chocolate eyes, cheerfully darting at her.


"I'm Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas. Miss…?"

As she stubbornly remained silent, he maliciously pursued:

"You're not Popeye the sailor nor a girl from West Virginia, that's for sure!"

<That's it!> Lois fumed. Twenty seconds with this guy and he'd already pushed her way past Mad Dog Lane mode.

"Well, you may be Clark Kent, but as far as Kansas is concerned, try again!"

"What are you talking about?" Clark tried, suddenly unease.

"Really impressive, that bus thing you did," she matter-of- factly pointed out.


"Don't worry, I've got better things to do than reporting on your exploits for Wrestling & Muscles," Lois cut across him as the elevator came to a halt and its doors chimed open, revealing the Daily Planet's newsroom. Rushing out, she concluded, "See you 'around".

"I'm counting on it," Clark whispered to himself, suddenly looking eagerly forward to his job interview with Perry White.