Alan's Apartment

[Alan]

Continued From: Cole’s Territory; L.A Sun, Editor-In-Chief’s Office

He hated the drive from his office to his apartment or vice versa. There was just something about driving that Alan didn’t like, more so when he had to drive though one of the larger cities – like L.A where he lived. Given the choice, he would quite happily walk to and from work and had it been still light out or even if it had been dark and not the full moon, he might have risked it. As it was, he wasn’t going to move through the streets of L.A only to be accosted by some crazy blaming the reflected rays of the sun on the moon as a cause for his or her actions.

Alan understood that sometimes there were things that made you behave contrary to your normal behaviour, but as far as he was concerned they were limited to things like drugs, alcohol, intense grief or Red Kryptonite. And since the last thing didn’t even exist… he smiled proudly at the glass cabinet containing one of the real capes used by Superman as he passed it, intending to have a shower and change – possibly grab a bite to eat if he had anything edible in the kitchen – before settling down to watch his movie.

[Alan]

The mug of coffee was balanced rather preciously on the small table by his seat. It sat atop numerous newspaper cuttings, pads, books and other random sheets of paper. As well as the odd pen… after all you never knew when inspiration might strike. Alan watched the movie, attention half on the adventure he had seen countless times and the rest slowly ticking through his day, recording everything that had happened and pulling apart little moments and thoughts that at the time had been meaningless.

“You will all kneel before Zod,” Alan murmured, mouthing along to the villain on the screen. If he had one complaint about this movie, it was the way Lex Luthor had been pushed back to comic bad guy. Still, the three aliens more than made up for the lack of evil Luthor.

“Crazy… hmm…” Absently he picked up one of the pens and tapped it against the wood of the table, a frown on his face. What had he thought about the moon? That it brought out the crazies? Carefully the man pulled on of the pads free from the mess and jotted down a few words, writing the possibility of doing a ‘themed’ section of crazy happenings that were blamed on the moon. Perhaps looking at it from the angle of insanity? Modern society? Maybe those two are the same… Alan thought cynically before picking up his coffee and drinking it. The moon angle would be a nice back up if tomorrow was a slow news day.

[Alan]

The coffee in his mug had gone cold, something Alan didn’t realise until he had lifted the drink to his lips and taken a deep swallow. He pulled a face at the stone cold liquid, forcing himself to swallow what was already in his mouth before placing the mug back down on the small table. Some days, it felt as if he threw away more cold cups of coffee than he drank cups of coffee. Considering the amount he did drink, that was no mean feat.

Alan added a few more words to the page on his notebook, adding a little memo to himself about things to do tomorrow. He still had to work out who to pair the new hire with until he’s seen how everything worked. Alan was all for throwing people in at the deep end to see how they reacted to pressure – he believed it showed the truest example of how a person acted – but at the same time there was a difference between the deep end and a deep end with a suction pipe. “Clark had Lois after all… even Jimmy had some help to guide him in the world.”

He sighed, lifting a hand to rub wearily at his eyes. It had been a long day and sometimes Alan worried he was getting old… the end credits to his movie rolled on the screen and he sighed again, trying not to reflect on the fates of those in it – dead or old. It was just too depressing. And didn’t answer his problem of who to pair the new guy up with. He supposed it depended on his mood; and if anyone irritated him. Alan knew any seasoned reporter disliked having a new guy with them. Which might be unfair on said new guy but Alan wasn’t there to make people like him or to be fair to them. He was there to make sure they did the best they could and that someone new would become the best they could.

[Alan]

It had been whispered – and sometimes spoke at a normal tone – that Alan was something of a workaholic, and took said work home with him. Which to be fair, he did. His home computer had files on each of his employees, examples of their work as well as a comprehensive back catalogue of pieces the Sun had done. Obviously he didn’t have everything on his home computer – a week or two worth and that was it; but it tended to be enough. Which reminded him, he had to update his files for today.

Alan moved stiffly from his seat in front of the television to head into his personal office. The movie had done much to clear his mind and offer a brief reprise from work, even if part of his brain had still been ticking along and thinking about tomorrow’s issue. It was the mark of a good editor, he supposed and Alan would far rather care too much about his work than not at all. Passion was good for your life’s work, and when working for a newspaper, passion, dedication and sacrifice was needed. He just sometimes wished he hadn’t sacrificed quite so much.

He settled himself in front of his computer, promising to himself that he would just update the files and that was it. Maybe – just maybe – he would have a quick look to see if they had any decent night shots of the city. But that was it. Then he would rest. Really.

[Alan]

The thing was… well, the thing was, Alan could never leave things alone when a thought came to him. He had to follow it to its natural conclusion, whatever that might lead. And right now, Alan’s thoughts were centred around the lack of night shots. Oh they had some in the archives. But they were all either rejected due to quality, ones clearly showing a different season to the current one. Or they were decent night time shots showing the moon in some other stage than full. Worst of all, they might be decent night time shots showing the full moon – but by people who no longer worked for the paper.

Alan sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, thinking and considering everything. He glanced over towards the window, taking in the clear night sky – perfect for night time shots. Why am I even considering this? I know I’m going to give in and phone someone in the end… Shaking his head, Alan began to flip through his list of contacts on his Rolodex, skimming through the different photographers in the paper.

No… no… no… no good at night shots… prefers abstract… better at people… ah, Marcus... perfect. Alan’s finger froze at the page with Iris Marcus’s name and he nodded. If she couldn’t do it then she couldn’t do it. Alan picked up his phone and began to dial.

[Alan]

Alan placed the phone back on the table and nodded in satisfaction. Iris would get the job done and done well, he was confident of that. She was one of the better photographers on the paper. One of his favourites, although he would never admit to that. It wasn’t good business practise to have favourites, to be biased towards one over another without clear reason. But on the other hand, it was good business to recognise when someone was better than most. Iris Marcus was and if he had his way, she would go far in this business.

He stretched and yawned, feeling suddenly tired. Alan wouldn’t go to bed for at least another hour though. It was common practice for him to remain at work until his last member had returned back safe and since he had just sent Iris into the field, he was hardly going to just go to sleep until he felt she could have returned.

Which meant more coffee was in order.

[Alan]

Alan paced up and down his sitting room floor, a glass of cold water in his hand. He had swapped his hot caffeine filled beverage for the cooler, apparently more refreshing and good for you liquid when he realised that the coffee just wasn’t doing anything anymore to his body. It was rare for Alan to reach his glass ceiling and even rarer for him to get that much coffee into his body when there wasn’t any real emergency or fast breaking story hitting the news room.

It had… just been a long day, and Alan was starting to feel his age. Or that could be the coffee talking. Alan really hoped it was just the coffee. He took a sip of the water, pulling a face at the lack of taste. It was not one of his favourite drinks. The editor-in-chief paused in front of his window and stared down at the quiet street, the odd car driving past. Everyone who had any sense was in bed or at least home. He hoped Iris Marcus wouldn’t spend too long out there doing her job. Dedication was all well and good but even he knew limits.

Part of him wanted to phone her up, but he knew that basically was checking up on her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Alan didn’t want her to think he had no faith in her, when the truth was the exact opposite.