RAIN

Rain. You hate rain. It makes your hair so frizzy that Diana Ross would tell you to tone it town a bit. But alas, today has been nothing but rain, rain, rain. You look out the window of the Daily Planet from your crampt little desk, and wonder why life hates you so much. What did you ever do to deserve this? Perry's on your back all the time, you have no time for a social life, and you haven't had a date in years. You look back to your flickering monitor and notice that the wireless keyboard has gone haywire and now you have at least three pages of r's. Crap! You try clicking and a variety of other things, but nothing works. You now have at least five pages of r's. You try control + alt+ delete. Non-responsive. It's official. The world is out to get you, and you are loosing badly. If only someone would come save you. Superman? You scoff at the idea. No, Big Blue is too busy kissing babies and saving kitties to help you in your deepest time of need. You let out a soft string of profanities that would make George Carlin blush.

"Having some problems?" a deep voice asks from behind.

You whirl around in your and bang your elbow on the filing cabinet in the process.

"OW!" you screech.

"Are you alright?" the voice asks.

"Do I bloody look alright?" you snap angrily as you rub your not -so-funny bone.

"I'm sorry, stupid question, I know. Here, let me take a look at your computer," the voice mumbles.

You look up and for the first time you realize that the 'voice' is none other than Clark Kent, doofus deluxe. He flashes that dorky smile, and your stomach takes a back flip and a cartwheel. He has such perfect teeth. He leans down next to you and types a few keys. The problem is solved. He straightens back up, and you take in how truly impressive his size is. He smiles again, and brushes some of his luscious black hair out of his eyes. Such expressive, extraordinary eyes. Blue doesn't seem descriptive enough of a word to describe them. Sapphire. They're sapphire, you decide. Sapphires have always been your favorite precious stone. You wonder why he hides his eyes behind those silly glasses. Surely he could afford contacts?

"T-thanks, Clark," you manage to squeak out.

"You're welcome," he says simply.

Just then, Lois walks by. You see Clark's head snap around so fast you're afraid it will come off. He stares at her as she stalks by, no doubt, on her way to write yet another fabulously misspelled article. You see Clark watch her with absolute devotion in his eyes. Suddenly, you feel the hot pangs of jealously flood through your body and your eyes narrow to dangerously small slits. But as soon as the jealously comes, it passes. Why are you so upset? Everyone knows that Clark has always crushed on Lois, following her around with the blind faith of a puppy.

You get in the elevator, alone, and you're thankful. You're slightly claustrophobic, and a packed elevator is not your idea of a good time. The bell dings softly. You step out into the marble covered lobby, and look outside. Rain. Ugh. You gather your courage and swipe a copy of yesterday's paper to cover yourself. You step into the rotating door and get stuck, but only for a moment. You step outside and into the freezing rain. The paper does nothing to protect you from the blinding wind, and suddenly, Clark Kent's glasses seem like a good idea after all. You trudge out to the curb, and as you're about to call a taxi, you slip. Of all days to wear stilettos, you had to wear them today. Just before the back of your head hits the cement, a strong arm wraps itself around your waist. You look up. Sapphire.

"I've got you," Clark says as he gently pulls you up.

By now, the paper you thought would keep the rain off of you is soaking, and so are you. You can feel your mascara running down your face and your bangs are plastered in your eyes. When Clark pulls you up, you get a small whiff of his cologne. It's fresh and clean smelling, like pine trees at Christmas. He smiles again, and you blush.

"Care to share a cab? It's the least I can do to repay you for all your kindness," you hear yourself say.

He looks startled for a moment, but he nods in agreement. He whistles loudly, and a cab pulls up immediately, and in doing so, it slashes dirty water all over you. You groan, but get in the cab anyway. It stinks of cigarettes, but then Clark slides in next to you and you smell pines trees again. You tell the driver where to go, and surprisingly, you and Clark live in the same apartment complex. You didn't know that, but then again, you never really talked to Clark before. He gets out before you do, and he pays the cabbie. You try to protest, but he flashes that smile again. He offers a long fingered hand to you, and you place your incredibly small one in his. He helps you get out, and you wobble for a second, but he steadies you. You feel so small next to him because even with heels on, you barely come up to the middle of his broad chest.

He looks down at you, with those gorgeous eyes of his, and you can tell he's thinking. He pulls you closer. He's so warm! He bends down and brushes some of your wet hair away from your face and then slowly, almost imperceptibly leans forward. You strain upwards, and then he looks at you hesitantly, almost as if asking your permission to kiss you. You smile shyly and place a hand on his heart. Its beating even faster than yours is, and that's saying something. He pulls you up with strong arms to meet his lips and you're warmed instantly to the core. His lips are gentle and soft, and he tastes like peppermints. The kiss is chaste and short, but you feel it even after he pulls away. He smiles again and your heart flips. He walks you inside and bids you a good night. You go your separate ways and once you reach your apartment, its only then you realize that you're soaking wet, but you don't mind. You look outside, and it's still raining.

You love the rain.