AN: Just so you guys know, I do not own any of these characters. Aaand that is all, I hope you enjoy!

"Katherine."

The young woman in question winced as she heard her name. She had only just gotten to her desk and was about to start brainstorming, and already she was needed for something. It wouldn't be for anything good, she knew that much - she usually slipped in and out of the office generally unnoticed.

"Yes?"

She looked up and saw David Jacobs, her editor's secretary, standing in front of her with a pitying look on his face, an expression that didn't exactly ease her nerves.

"Mr. Connell wants to see you in his office."

Katherine stiffened and took in a deep breath before standing. "You don't think he...?"

David nodded. "That's what it seemed like."

"What are the chances that I could just ignore him, stay here, and he'd change his mind?"

"I'd say pretty slim."

She sighed and nodded. "Okay." She moved out from behind her desk, and her friend put a comforting, if unhelpful, hand on her shoulder.

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

Based on what they both assumed was about to happen in the editor's office, she was going to need all the luck in the world.

The walk down the hall seemed to take hours, yet it ended all too soon, and she found herself in front of the correct door. Though she desperately wanted to turn and walk away, she lifted her hand and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in."

Katherine opened the door slowly, and entered the office, looking cautiously at the man behind the desk.

"You wanted to see me?"

He nodded, and motioned for her to move closer. She did so. "Miss Pulitzer, I'm afraid I have to be the bearer of bad news. There is no longer a place for you at this paper."

She knew it was coming, but she suddenly felt the need to fight for her job. "I beg to differ."

"Miss Pulitzer -"

"You're paying me thirty dollars a week now. I'll take twenty."

"This isn't a matter of salary."

She scoffed "Like hell it isn't."

"I need someone who can spark someone in the readers. Your column is too soft."

"Then assign me something else. I'm a good writer, Mr. Connell."

"I need fireworks. I need someone who can start arguments."

"I can do that! Just look at us right now."

"Miss Pulitzer, I don't have the time for this. You're being let go. Now go, write your last column before you pick up your check."

"My father owned this paper!" She hated that she said that. She hated using her father to get things from people, especially now that he was gone, but she didn't know what else to do.

"Miss Pulitzer. Go."

The look he gave her was strong and unwavering. With determination to at least leave with some dignity, Katherine set her posture in a way that hid her upset, turned on her heel, and walked out without another word.

She surprised herself by realizing that she was more angry with her editor than anything else. She'd done nothing wrong. It was his fault that the things she wrote weren't hard-hitting, he was the one who assigned them to her.

"Bastard." She muttered to herself as she walked, not caring who heard her.

She wished he would have taken her up on her offer to take a smaller salary. Sure, she was barely living off of the one she had, but it would be better than nothing. Now she didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew that if she ended up having to move back in with her mother, then she would come back and kill Connell on the spot.

These were the thoughts running through her head as she returned to her desk. She didn't know what her last column would be yet, but she was going to make an impression with it - she was going to prove her editor wrong. She was going to do something big.

Suddenly, as though entering her brain by a strike of lightning, an idea came to her. A good idea.

She grinned to herself as she put a fresh piece of paper in her typewriter and started writing as thought her life depended on it. It just came to her, and the words flowed easily. She read through it, and she knew this was exactly what she needed.

After people saw this, she'd be able to get a job at any paper in the city. Editors would be fighting over her. And it meant something. To her, and to everyone else in the country. Well, everyone except the newspaper giants.

Katherine took the article and stood, taking it straight to Davey and asking him to bring it to layout - that was the beauty of this situation. She knew Mr. Connell wouldn't bother himself with reading it until it was published.

She was still grinning even as she picked up her final paycheck and made her way home to wait for the storm that was sure to follow the next morning's edition of The World.