Chapter Text
Perry White knew that Clark Kent was Superman. Perry also knew that Kent had no idea that Perry knew his ‘secret’. How Kent thought he could get away with a secret identity in a workplace that was home to some of Metropolis’s most inquiring minds, Perry had no idea. Perry himself had realized there was something unusual about Clark Kent by the end of the earnest young man’s first day working for the Daily Planet.
Kent’s initial introduction, standing there unannounced, dripping rainwater all over the carpet, did little to make himself stand out, beyond making Perry think that the kid had guts to come barging into the office of the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet to pitch himself without an appointment. Perry could respect that, but that sort of confidence wasn’t in and of itself unusual; the staff of the Planet was largely comprised of plucky, self-confident individuals – take Lois Lane, for example. It would take more than guts to compete with the top reporters in the country, and the portfolio excerpts from the Smallville Sentinel that the kid provided were uninspiring.
Perry bluntly told him so, but Kent didn’t seem easily deterred and begged for the chance to be considered for a job, promising that he’d come back with a major scoop. Perry had been at the job long enough to have heard that sort of promise a hundred times before and wasn’t particularly inclined to believe the kid; in fact, Perry had almost completely forgotten about the awkward young man by the time he received the promised scoop in his inbox. When his computer pinged, announcing a new email, Perry wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t an article from Clark Kent about a flying man in a red and blue bodysuit that tore a silver, egg-shaped tank in half with his bare hands.
The further into the article he got, the higher Perry’s eyebrows raised. The story was completely ridiculous. It wasn’t so much the flying strongman that had Perry in disbelief, he lived in a city where the various metahumans regularly fought crime, after all. It was the small details, like the way that the article was written as though Kent had been right there with Superman – that was what Kent named the blue-clad hero in the article – getting up close and personal with the mysterious silver tank. By the time he had finished skimming through the piece, Perry was sure Kent had just made up the details of this supposed exclusive scoop.
It wasn’t until Kent returned and earnestly confirmed his reports validity against information from another Planet staff member that Perry believed the details were true. From the sounds of it, there was a new metahuman in Metropolis and somehow, newcomer Clark Kent had gotten through gridlock traffic and locked down bridges to a crime scene on the other side of the river, seen the entire battle go down from front-row seats, gotten an exclusive interview with the new hero, written a ready-to-print article and gotten back to the Planet to confirm the details before any of Perry’s other reporters had even been able to get out the door.
It was all a little strange if you asked Perry, but he admired the kids guts and he had promised to give Kent a chance if he delivered a major scoop. So, Perry personally escorted the bespectacled young man to an empty desk in the newsroom bullpen and introduced him to Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, two of his other gutsy hires, asking them to show the new kid around. Perry retreated to his office once Kent was handed off, shaking his head as he sat down at his desk. As a reporter, he had seen many strange things in his time, but something told him there was more to clumsy Clark Kent from Smallville than met the eye.
It didn’t take long for Perry’s suspicions to be proved correct. There was something strange about Clark Kent – and it had something to do with Superman. The amiable farm-boy had arrived in Metropolis asking for a job at the Daily Planet on the exact same day that Superman had made his debut. Kent was late to work most days, often turning up with his clothes and hair disheveled, as though he had gotten dressed in an incredible hurry, but with a fresh exclusive with Superman to show for his tardiness. He seemed to be the only reporter that Superman was willing to talk to, which was strange because Jimmy Olsen, who often followed the hero to take photos, regularly complained about how it was unfair that Clark got all the exclusives when he was never even on the scene until well after things had calmed down. Kent also had the habit of taking long lunches that coincided perfectly with Superman’s escapades and would sometimes return with his shirt on inside out or a completely different tie than he had been wearing in the morning. Perhaps these anomalies could be explained as dedication to the role of Superman’s personal journalist, but Perry wasn’t the editor of the biggest newspaper in the country for nothing.
Only a few short weeks into his career at the Daily Planet, Kent gave Perry everything he needed to confirm the relationship between Metropolis’s newest superhero and his most recent hire. It was a Monday afternoon, and Kent hadn’t shown up for work. That wouldn’t have been unusual, but he also hadn’t called in with a weak excuse for his transgressions or a promise to be in soon. If he hadn’t already had suspicions about Kent, Perry would have assumed the young man was dealing with some sort of family emergency that he would explain as soon as he was able to. As it was, Perry knew there was something unusual about the reporter and the conspicuous absence coincided with Superman’s longest battle yet.
A gigantic, gelatinous creature of dubious origin had descended on downtown Metropolis at the crack of dawn. Superman had been on the scene within minutes, but the hero’s usual tactics weren’t working – the more he attacked the creature, the more power it seemed to gain. There had even been a few sticky moments early on where it looked as though Superman had been absorbed into the monster and wouldn’t be able to free himself. After a few hours, Superman had forgone actively trying to stop the creature and was mostly working on keeping it away from civilians and animals.
Perry had been keeping an eye on the incoming news briefs about the fight, figuring he might have to get someone else to write up the report given that it seemed his usual Superman specialist wasn’t going to turn up any time soon.
“Lane, get in here,” Perry shouted into the bullpen, standing by his half open door.
“Yeah, chief?” said Lois, popping her head into the office.
“I need you to cover the Superman story today,” Perry replied, sitting back down at his desk and reclining in his chair, hands linked behind his head. “Also, stop calling me that. You’ve even got Kent doing it.”
“Sorry, chief,” Lois said, smirking. “Where is Kent anyway? Doesn’t he have some sort of super special secret relationship with the flying wonder?”
“Taking a sick day,” said Perry, in a tone that brokered no further questions.
“Again? Wasn’t he sick last week, too? I thought those farmer-types were sturdier than that,” said Lois dryly, sipping from a cup of coffee she’d been clutching.
“Don’t be so harsh on the kid, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Despite his apparent time blindness,” said Perry.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell Kent he owes me for this one,” said Lois, retreating from the office and heading back to her own desk in the bullpen.
Perry tuned back into the TV news coverage of Superman’s fight with the massive slimy being, just in time to see the flying red-and-blue blur get pulled into the creature's mass again, disappearing completely from view. Superman had worked with police and other emergency services to create a large locked down area that people had been evacuated from, and it looked like he had swapped back to actively trying to stop the creature before he got sucked in again.
Suddenly, the creature rocketed into the sky, globs of slime trailing off it and falling back to earth, splattering all over the place. It went up, up, up until it was no longer visible to the cameras. “Both Superman and the creature seem to have disappeared for now,” said the TV journalist, after a few moments of silence. “But we will continue reporting on this ongoing incident, as it unfolds.”
Perry watched for a few more minutes, waiting to see if Superman would return, but nothing happened. Unwilling to admit to himself that he was slightly concerned about the hero, Perry turned to his computer and started answering emails instead. The next hour or so passed in a vague blur of checking the incoming news for word of Superman and answering emails and reading over articles to be published, but Perry’s questions about Superman’s whereabouts weren’t answered by the TV.
A soft knock on his office door made Perry look up. Clark Kent was standing there, in one of his usual poorly fitted suits, the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt done up incorrectly and his tie only half knotted. The tall young man looked exhausted, but what really gave him away was the sticky residue in his hair. If you didn’t look closely, the style could pass as simply too much hair gel, but from Perry’s vantage point he could see dust and a few strange globs scattered in amongst the dark curls.
Perry hadn’t been 100% convinced that his hunch about Superman’s civilian identity was correct until now, because although Kent and the hero did share similar heights and builds, there was something about Clark Kent’s face that was different than Superman’s, although Perry had never been able to put his finger on exactly what it was. Perhaps it was the way he styled his hair, or something to do with his glasses, or maybe he had the ability to change how he looked. Whatever it was, it was enough to fool most people. But Perry White wasn’t most people – he was one of the foremost journalistic minds in the country and he made his living off uncovering the truth.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kent,” said Perry, letting nothing of his discovery show on his face, raising one eyebrow sardonically instead.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, chief,” Kent said, looking chagrined. “I uh, I overslept.”
“It’s 2:30 in the afternoon,” replied Perry, disbelief evident in his tone. “And call me Perry, kid.”
“Uh, the electricity was off in my building, and my alarm didn’t go off,” Kent hedged, the slight delay between words making it clear he was making the answer up.
“Well, while you were getting your beauty sleep, you missed one hell of a Superman story. I’ve sent Lane to get the exclusive in your place,” said Perry.
Kent shuffled awkwardly in the doorway, moving his weight from foot to foot. “Oh no, what happened?” he asked, sounding a little too interested.
Perry just barely stopped himself from shaking his head. This kid was one of the worst liars he had ever met, how exactly he thought he was going to keep getting away with this whole secret identity thing was beyond Perry. It had only taken Perry a few weeks of seeing the kid at the office to figure it out. God help him if Kent ever tried this nonsense on a partner; that would not go down well.
“He was fighting some sort of giant Jell-o cup in monster form almost all day, and then he disappeared inside the creature. Somehow, it flew away and no one has seen any signs of either Superman or the creature since,” said Perry, leaning back in his chair.
Kent’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow, that sounds serious. Maybe I should go help Lois, since this sounds like such a big story.”
“Sure Kent, you do that,” said Perry, turning his attention back to his computer.
By the time the editor-in-chief looked back up from the screen, Clark Kent had disappeared from his doorway and Superman had reappeared on the TV screen, announcing to anxious bystanders that the creature was taken care of and that it was safe for civilians to return to the area.
“Secret identity my ass,” muttered Perry to himself, leaving his office in search of caffeine to deal with his superhero employee induced headache.