Superman pulled me off the streets when I was sixteen. If he hadn't, he's told me, I would have become one of the most threatening villains Metropolis has ever seen. I sort of doubt that, but who knows. Maybe using my powers to get people to get drugs and steal for me would have developed into me using my powers to get someone to kill people for me, or steal bigger stuff for me. Whether or not I would have become some mass villain, I'll always be grateful for him whipping me into shape like he did.

Guess I'm on the good side now, I've got a costume, a name –everything.

Belladonna.

I asked Superman if anyone would make the connection to a Ms. Bella Sweet working at the Daily Prophet with Clark Kent as her mentor to the young woman fighting side by side Superman on Metropolis streets. He said no –and I trust him. He says that people are too worried about their own lives in this city to care about anybody else's.

So Belladonna it is, translation: a beautiful and dangerous woman.

So I absolutely hate Lois Lane. I know Clark's in love with her, he's told me a thousand times –but I don't understand what he sees in her. Sure, she's got great legs, but so do a thousand women in Metropolis. That woman is annoying, whiney, too sarcastic for her own good and harsh. She definitely doesn't like me, adding the whipped cream to the sundae, ya know?

And yet here I stood near her, my notepad in hand as if I was actually going to do something. Being a superhero wasn't enough for Clark, I had to get a job to straighten out my life too. I worked at a restaurant for the first year to separate our aliases. But this year was the first time I got to work with Clark in the same profession. I can't say I really enjoy the press –too cut-throat and dishonest for me.

No wonder Lois's is so good at it.

Clark, Lois and I were all outside waiting for the famous Bruce Wayne, who was making his annual trip to Metropolis from Gotham (in his private jet). If there was one thing I agreed on with Lois –it was how stuck up this guy sounded.

"Stuck up rich guy with no personality, that's what I've heard," she said.

But when he stepped off that plane both of our mouths dropped open. Good god was he gorgeous. Muscular, assertive, broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and perfectly combed black hair. Lois and I must have been drooling because Clark gave a cough into his fist. I composed myself.

"Quick, how's my hair?" Lois whispered, turning around to try and fix it in her little mirror that she whipped out of her purse.

If I wasn't so afraid of her I would have made a crack to that comment. But I stayed quiet, trying to keep from fixing my own hair. There's not much I can do with it anyway, I mean it's so freaking thick. My gang friends used to call me Blackberry because that's what color it is. It's so black it has a hint of purple. But it hangs to my back and it's so thick and rebellious and horrible, I couldn't do anything if I tried.

So I worked on not passing out when he suddenly came up to our group. Lois gave a little girly gasp as if she hadn't seen him coming –even though she had a damn mirror out- and dropped all her things. I would have kicked her when she bent down to get them, but you just don't mess with Superman's girl.

Bruce Wayne had not gotten that memo, or didn't care, because he helped Lois up after gathering her things. I tried not to be furious. Of course the one wearing the shorter skirt and the lower cut jacket got the hot rich guy. Of course.

And the former misfit, crazy haired, golden eyed girl got zip, nada.

Mr. Wayne turned on his flirt, complimenting Lois on her "brave" actions on the plane that had been hijacked a week earlier. Doesn't everyone know she only does that stuff because she knows the man in red and blue is going to come save her? Honestly –does anyone really think she'd do those brave things if she wasn't so sure of her security blanket?

I kept these thoughts to myself. God forbid Clark hear me –good thing he can't read minds.

Nevertheless, Bruce kept complimenting her, completely ignoring Clark and I, and finally asked her out on a date. That man is good. Lois practically threw herself at Bruce's feet with a YES, and it had only taken him three minutes to get there.

Alright, so I was jealous. I won't lie. Sure maybe he was a bit older than me and Lois was closer to his age, and maybe she had prettier hair than me, and better clothes –well, here was another example of where it was a good thing Clark couldn't read minds. I started calling her a bunch of pretty nasty, unprintable names inside my head.

Lois had been so entranced she hadn't even had time to ask any questions for our story. The boss would have our asses for that. And to make my experience even better, as we were walking away from the site the heel of my shoe snapped. I was thankful for a few reasons 1. Bruce was already far away in his stretch limo 2. I didn't kiss the ground and 3. Clark catching me hopefully pissed Lois off a bit.

I feel nothing towards Clark, or Superman –he'd become an older brother figure in my life. So when he grabbed me by the waist to keep me from doing a face plant, the only thing I felt was strong, strong relief. And then a bit of smugness –for once Clark wasn't groveling or helping Lois out.

I really hope it pissed her off.