AAI: Episode 105: Treasured

A/N: Dedicated to BookWurm1, because this is just what she called for after CoKE.

Director's Notes: We got word from the network that we needed to up the rating, so please be aware if you’re watching with your children. As you know, we’re on a fairly lenient schedule, but Neilsen says were good enough to have a show every two to three weeks, so I’ll keep the crack monkeys working.

She couldn’t get the buttons on her black-and-white Houndstooth coat unfastened quickly enough. Freed from the binds of the garment, she yanked it off, tossing it to the ground behind her without a look back. The silky, powder blue blouse with a drooping neckline presented no buttons and was easily slipped off and tossed to the side. The zipper in the back of the navy blue skirt was swiftly lowered, and the skirt fell to the ground, where it was kicked across the floor. She sat on the bed, kicking her black high heels into the wall, scuff marks be damned. Her nimble fingers slipped under the waistband of her pantyhose and removed the artificial covering from the creamy skin of her legs.

Her round breasts were still supported by a sea foam-green brassiere, but that was hastily discarded, along with the lacy white briefs. Her seething expression lessened as she took a number of heavy breaths. Her head turned towards her closet, her shoulder-length blond hair momentarily obscuring her face. She walked with intention towards the shower, where she turned the red-ringed knob in the shower, bringing steaming hot water onto her body. It was a tad warmer that she usually preferred it, but tonight she never felt the need for cleansing so much. She ignored the pinkish tint resulting from the harsh temperature of the liquid. There were no towels hanging on the rod when she got out of the shower—it was laundry day—but a quick peek under the sink produced a still-new set of maroon towels with “Euryphaessa Hotel” embroidered into the fabric. She shaved her legs quickly. So quickly, in fact, that she nicked herself around the ankle, but thought nothing of it, as the blood transfusions shortened her healing time. Though, it had been more than twenty-four hours since her last injection, so one blood drop did slide down the side of her foot before a scab appeared.

From the closet, she pulled out a large red, flannel shirt, which she slipped on over her bare body. She pulled out a pair of white boxers shorts, a gag gift from her cousin; they had little crimson hearts on them. The oversized shirt covered them up, and she had to roll the cuffs up twice just to expose her fingers. Stepping into her rose-colored slippers, she journeyed to the bathroom, where she surveyed her now makeup-free face. Still sitting on the counter was a lipstick tube from Lillian’s, still wrapped in plastic wrap. The plastic soon found its way into the tiny trashcan by the sink, and pursed pink lips became smiling scarlet ones.

Chloe’s mind raced through a mental checklist. Lana was “out” again, as she often was during the night. She worked tirelessly during the day shift, so no one protested. And, often, these outings were business meetings with Lex, so no one could complain about her dedication to the firm. Pete and Lois were in the basement, unloading a shipment of weapons—high-velocity projectile weapons, according to their chatter—that they’d been waiting weeks for. And Clark was in his office, attempting to decipher Chloe’s custom computer applications. He would have no more of the Lois-like screw-ups again. She had to hand it to the man’s sense of purpose.

* * *

30 minutes earlier…

Jimmy peeked out the hotel room, looking very confused. It had been a fun night out with the guys at the pub, despite their constant teasing about him bringing a beautiful woman but letting her dance with every half-drunk idiot who approached her. Even the defensive comments about Lucy being Chloe’s cousin fell on deaf ears. But Lucy came to his defense… by offering them each a dance, and they quickly shut up. If he had danced with Lucy, he must have been too wasted by then to remember. Of course, he had somehow appeared here, in the Euryphaessa, in Lucy’s room. He could easily deduce what happened, even if his memory was a little fuzzy. He must have drunk too much, though he usually was better at pacing himself. In fact, his hangover was fairly mild.

The note that Lucy left him told him that what happened was a big mistake, and Jimmy agreed. He was crazy about Chloe, and Lucy knew that, and she was excited for him. She left early, hoping to make things easier for Jimmy, and Jimmy thanked her for that.

“Lucy left,” came the last voice Jimmy wanted to hear at this particular moment.

“Chloe,” he said, guiltily, and cursing himself for the tone. “Um…” he began to explain.

Chloe stood there in her dark blue skirt suit, the jacket unbuttoned casually, revealing her light blue shirt. Her hair was down. Her voice was near venomous, “Tell me, Jimmy, was it so hard not being with me immediately that you had to go after the first girl that would take you home, even if she was my cousin, and on top of that, at the place where I live and work?”

“How did you…?”

“You’re walking out of her room, Jimmy. Plus, I know things.”

“Your psychic thing.” Jimmy swore that Chloe could probably see his heart dropping.

“Clairvoyance is a bitch. I’ve heard it before.”

Jimmy realized that there was no hope. Funny that the most monumentally royal screw-up that he would ever commit, he wouldn’t remember. In desperation, he replied, “This is about Clark, isn’t it?” Where the words came from he didn’t know, but he really wished they hadn’t come.

Chloe immediately snapped, “You’ve avoiding the discussion, Jimmy.” Jimmy could have sworn that Chloe’s eyes had taken on an orange tinge, like Clark’s did before he activated his heat vision. He would have taken the crispifying over Chloe’s furious glare. She finally added, with a harshly pensive tone, “But, yeah, it is. It has always been about Clark with me. I’ve been in love with Clark Kent from the moment I laid eyes on him. And, yeah, probably every relationship I’ve had has been about me trying to get over the Kansas farmboy with the body of steel and heart of gold. Not the least of all you.”

Jimmy’s breath was shallow, his muscles numb, his mouth dry, and his internal organs felt like they were necrotizing within him. His voice as low as a whisper, he said, with nary an ounce of strength, “You told me if I—”

Chloe powerfully interrupted him, dominantly but sympathetically, “And you did. And it’s not your fault I’m choosing Clark over you. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just that I am never not going to be in love with Clark. And that’s not fair to you. Good-bye, Jimmy.”

“But what about the Veronica Venus thing? We’re still doing that, right?”

Her back to him, Chloe replied stoically, “Of course we are. See you at work tomorrow. We’ve got to start that story about Joanne Parker and Bill General.”

“And lunch?” Jimmy had the distinct feeling of hanging over a cliff with precious few lifelines.

She did not turn around; she barely turned her head, “I just remembered. I have a prior commitment. How ‘bout a rain check?” The last question held no sincerity.

“Chloe…”

“I know everything you’re feeling, Jimmy.” Somehow, the matter-of-factness emerged over the rest of her stormy emotions. “Maybe better than you do. It’s too late.” She hazarded one last glance at him over her shoulder.

Jimmy was a photographer. He knew things got smaller as they moved away from the camera. As Chloe got smaller, as she walked away, Jimmy could have sworn that he was the one moving away, the one falling over a ledge.

* * *

Jimmy raced into Chloe’s room, where she was putting a scarlet-colored desert robe on over her clothes.

“Chloe, where do you think you’re going? We don’t even know if you’re okay!”

Chloe disregarded his statements as she grabbed a wooden staff out of the closet, “Jimmy, I’ve got to go help. This is bigger than us. I told you it was a bad time.”

“But…”

“Jimmy, I can’t do this with you now. Clark needs me.” She tried to correct herself, “The Champions of Kal-El need me.”

“Chloe…”

She spun to face him, and sharply replied, “Jimmy, our time will come, okay?”

“I…”

Her back turned, her eyes diverted, she asked, “Wait for me.”

“Just promise me you’ll come back.”

She struggled with the words. “I promise.”

* * *

As she descended in staircase into the lobby, she did a quick scan of the room to make sure Lois and Pete were still in the basement. So, she boldly walked through the lobby toward the manager’s offices, the red flannel shirt covering her to mid-thigh.

Clark’s office door was open, so she knocked on it as she leaned halfway in. “Hey, Clark, it’s late, I’m going to bed, but, um, I had a question…”

Clark moved his tired eyes from the computer monitor to the half-dressed woman in his doorway. His eyes widened a little and his jaw went slack. “Is that one of my shirts?” he asked.

Pretending to be irked at his change of subject, she looked down at herself. She feigned awkwardness; she gripped the collar of the shirt even though she had intentionally left the two top buttons opened, and pulled down on the base of the shirt, even though she knew exactly how much leg she was showing. She sheepishly admitted, “Yeah… remember when I made you get rid of a bunch of your stuff before moving out here? I kinda saw an opportunity for a cheap sleep shirt. I would have asked, but it would have been awkward, because…”

Clark had yet to rip his eyes away from Chloe’s lithe form. “Chloe, I would’ve just given it to you. In fact, I kind of hid a couple for myself.”

She chuckled. “I know,” she commented ironically.

“Do I have any secrets?”

“For now.” She looked into his eyes.

“Chloe?” She didn’t answer, just smiled and bit her bottom lip. “What is it?”

* * *

Pete laid the heavy box of darts on the counter in the lobby. “Man, am I psyched about this bad boy,” he commented, lifting a spring-loaded, crossbow-like contraption.

“I know,” Lois replied as she lugged a chain weapon over her shoulder. “But I bet Clark’s gonna make us practice with them before he lets us take them out in the field. What’s up with that?”

Pete scoffed. “I bet Intergang never has to practice using their weapons before they get to use them.”

“Sometimes it pays to be the bad guys,” Lois admitted. “So, it looks like we’ll have to step up our efforts on the Clark-Chloe project. Our subtle nudges are having zero effect. You know, Chloe has always dug the fact that Clark’s a superhero. I thought by making her watch him in action the other day would get her hot? Zilch.”

Pete, pretending to aim the weapon, added, “Clark’s got a huge knight-in-shining-armor complex. I’ve been enlightening him for the past few days to save Chloe. You think he’d at least been making googly eyes at her.” He made a game buzzer-like sound.

Lois sighed dejectedly, “Damn, I wonder if she and Jimmy are getting back together.”

“Ya think? I mean, I’ve met him. He’s always up for a game of b-ball, and that’s a check in my book, but Chloe’s so too good for him. What does she see in him?”

“She sees interest, which, given her life in Lana’s shadow…” Lois paused, before commenting, “Hey, I just had a brainstorm…” She turned her head toward Clark’s office. The lobby was set up so that she couldn’t really see into his office, though the lights were visible, so Clark had to be working on his computer… or something.

* * *

She sat in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist and the rolling chair, which caused the flannel shirt to ride up, exposing her whimsical underwear. Not that Clark could see them. His eyes were closed on account of the fact that she was pressing her lips hard against his, her fingers entangled with his hair. He started kissing back and his hands lightly gripped her waist, holding her body flush with his.

He finally pulled away suddenly and sputtered, “Wha…? Chloe, what’s going on…?”

Chloe stately plainly, “Clark, I have feelings for you. I know you have feelings for me.”

“How did you…? Did you read me?” At most, he looked mildly offended.

“Clark,” she stated, her eyes downcast and her hand pressed lightly against his chest, “I couldn’t risk this being my last chance with you. But I also couldn’t risk messing up our relationship, and our company, by coming onto you if you weren’t interested. Forgive me?”

“Of course,” Clark replied, petting her hair. He smiled. “Thanks, though… for coming on to me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, probably for the same reasons. It’s just after what I went through with Lana, I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk it.” He licked his lips, cringed, and wiped off the rest of the transfer from Chloe’s lipstick.

She giggled and apologized. Her empathy picked up a rather sudden surge of emotions, but before she could process them, she found Clark’s lips pressing fiercely against hers. Surprised with his audacity at first, she quickly got over it and kissed back. While her hands were planted firmly against the back of his head, his hands were roaming with incredible speed. She pressed her forehead against his, breaking this kiss, their eyes meeting with similar expressions. In the blink of an eye, Clark untangled himself from Chloe’s embrace and repositioned them so that he was now carrying her. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck. Grinning devilishly, he started to carry her to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To my room. But, if you want, we could stay in my office?” He said, motioning towards the desk.

Chloe’s eyes shot open. She turned her head to look at the open blinds into the lobby. She didn’t see Lois or Pete, but they could come up from the basement at any point. “I think your room’d be better,” she finally managed to get out.

Clark moved too quickly for Chloe to reconsider, not in superspeed, but briskly just the same. As he carried her through the foyer area, Chloe noted that the door to the basement was open, but a quick survey of the expansive room showed no other presences, so she praised her doubly-good luck.

As soon as they were out of sight, Pete and Lois dissolved back into sight.

“That was a close one,” Pete commented.

“On the contrary, that was a bulls-eye.” The two of them high-fived.

* * *

As Clark’s hand pushed her sleep shirt further and further up as he forcefully kissed her on his bed, Chloe thought things were moving strangely fast, but her emotions kept pushing this idea further and further back. As his hand glided up and down her sides underneath her shirt, his pager began to buzz on the desk. Chloe tilted her head at the sound. Clark took this as an invitation to start laying kisses on her neck, completely ignoring the buzzing. “Night club,” Chloe muttered as the information came to her.

Chloe pushed him off and sat at the edge of the bed, grabbing Clark’s laptop and connecting it to Clark’s phone line. Her telephone program came up, the CallerID alerting her that the call was coming from Atlantis, a local nightclub. Clark took this opportunity to push her hair aside, giving his lips access to the back of her neck. With his other hand, he began to unbutton her shirt, starting from the bottom. Chloe pressed a button to turn on sound. A man deep voice frantically muttered, “—God! They’re attacking us. It’s like they’ve got superpowers. They’re… freezing stuff! And people. Is there anyone there?!” Pete’s voice echoed through the speakers, “Don’t worry. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

Chloe spun around when she felt Clark lick the back of her ear. Looking him straight in the eye, she noticed the faint red glow is his eyes. After a brief pause, she smiled devilishly and pushed Clark down onto the bed, her hands clawing at his invulnerable chest. Lustily, she told him, “Go save them.”

He was met with an incredulous stare. “Why?”

Practically purring, she answered, “’Cause you know that superhero thing really gets me hot.”

Clark grinned evilly before he disappeared right from under her. Chloe fell a few inches onto the soft bed as her face changed to cautious relief.

Downstairs, Pete hung up the phone, moving to get his gear. Before he took two steps, a rush of wind blew through the room. Clark stood at the front doors, dressed in his Archangel outfit, with a black shirt in place of his normal blue one, and faded jeans in place of navy slacks. Pete soon realized that he too had been dressed, as had Lois.

Lois surveyed her outfit. “Whoa, Smallville, did you actually dress me, too? Never thought you had the cajones.”

“You hear about the job?” Pete asked.

“I’m rearin’ to go, Petey Boy. By the way, nice toys; go ahead and take ‘em with you if you want. And, you’d better hurry or you’ll miss all the fun.” With this, he zipped out.

“Does he seem off to you?” Lois questioned.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my father always said,” Pete replied, loading his gun with darts and he paced toward the door, soon with Lois is tow.

* * *

Chloe studied the smear of lipstick on her finger. It sparkled in the light of Clark’s nightstand lamp.

Lana’s voice came from the doorway, “Chloe?”

Still kneeling on the bed, Chloe turned and replied, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Not much. Uh, some potential work that I wanted to drop off to Clark. Is he out?”

Chloe was still distracted. “Yeah, he went on a job at the Atlantis nightclub.” She added with worry, “I think he might have gotten a small dose of Red-K.”

“Uh-oh. How?”

“There may be some in this lipstick. He might have ingested it. Hopefully, it’ll pass through him.”

Lana’s tact wore out. “Chloe, you’re an investigative journalist, right? What would be your first instinct be if you were to walk into a man’s bedroom and see a woman on said man’s bed… wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a half-buttoned-up men’s shirt… looking rather disheveled and exhausted?”

Chloe suddenly became aware of her surroundings. “Nothing happened,” she commented automatically. She began to button up the shirt.

In a jocular tone, the brunette replied, “Because it’s Clark’s bedroom, I’m inclined to believe you.”

Chloe paused and surveyed Lana. “Speaking of being an investigative journalist,” she began confidently, “what would your first instinct be if you were to run into a woman coming back home at…” Chloe turned her head to read the bedside clock, “2:43 in the morning, wearing a cocktail dress, her hair hastily redone,” she said emphasizing the word “hastily” as she got up from the bed. “With a hickey…” she added, brushing Lana’s hair aside, “…and missing her bra,” she finished, knocking the strap of her shoulder.

Lana was quick to answer, “You’re not wearing a bra, either.”

Chloe folded her arms, realizing the top three buttons were still undone. There was an awkward silence, as Chloe and Lana stood facing one another. Then, Chloe prompted, “How ‘bout we never had this conversation?”

“Works for me,” Lana answered quickly. The two exited Clark’s suite, Chloe heading for her own room, Lana hurrying the other direction toward the elevator.

* * *

Falling against the wall, Clark’s skin was blue-tinged, but it quickly warmed to its natural color. “Whoo, that was a rush.” He sent a blast of heat vision at the attacking meta-human, a short teenager with spiky blond hair, who seemed to only relish in the punishment. Clark took a large piece of wood from the already destroyed stage and threw it hard at the assailant, who merely held out his arms and watched the frozen board shatter against his body.

Two other enemies appeared to challenge Clark: an olive-skinned, dark-haired youth, and a tall, dark-skinned, bald man of at least thirty years, both displaying similar cold powers. Clark grinned, his eyes glowing red, as he leapt high into the air, gliding up to the ceiling and taking hold of the scaffolding. His three opponents all launched cold blasts toward him, but he quickly launched himself downward. The resulting shockwave resulting from his landing feet-first on the ground knocked the three metas over, as well as shattering the outside windows.

From outside, Pete and Lois watched as the windows blew out, arriving just in time to have their car lurch from Clark’s shockwave. They raced in, Pete entering first with his gun raised. He was too slow, however, and a woman with fire-engine red hair froze him with a mere flick of the wrist. As he lay shivering on the ground, Lois called out to Clark in the adjoining room, and a wide-angle heat blast brought Pete back into commission. Lois’s hair frizzed, however. She took no note of it and instead swung her ball-and-chain weapon over her head and launched it at the female meta, who held out her hands and chilled the metal ball, which knocked her backwards because the cold blast was not strong enough to actually stop the ball’s momentum. Pete raced into the next room, where he aimed and shot three darts, hitting each of the metas. The black man was hit from behind, in the center of his back. He fell to his knees screaming, his arms clawing at the unreachable dart.

The second, black-haired meta casually pulled the dart from his thigh and sent a cold blast at Pete, who was plucked from the target area by Clark. He left Pete standing behind his attacker, who was quickly shot point-blank with the dart gun. Still undeterred, the meta ripped the dart out of his neck and spun to strike Pete with his arm. Pete was too quick this time, though the meta’s arm collided with the gun and sent it crashing to the ground. Pete, without pausing, grabbed a wooden stick from the ground and clubbed his enemy’s knee, causing the man to fall to the ground.

Meanwhile, Clark endured another cold blast from the blond kid. His raised his arms to refreeze the recovering Clark. He didn’t count on Clark blowing him across the room into the adjacent wall and holding him there through the sheer strength of his breath. He also didn’t expect to find himself immobilized from the neck down by a sheet of ice. Lois, who had since entered, now had Pete’s kneeling adversary wrapped in a chain, but the bonds were quickly frozen and starting to crack under pressure. Pete and Lois exchanged looks. Both spun around: Lois’s leg in a wide arc, Pete’s club the same; and the guy went flying three feet and landing flat on his back, the iced chains shattering under him. He passed out.

The remaining meta, with a dart in his back, screamed as he continued to claw at his back. Clark zipped in front on his and swung his arm, missing the man’s nose by millimeters. He laid a soft tap on his nose, and the man, unbalanced, spun and landed face-first on the ground. Clark surveyed his work and turned to his partners. “Talk to the cops will ya? I gotta split.” Without waiting for a response, he disappeared.

“He seem kind of funny to you?” Pete asked.

Lois considered his question. “No, can’t tell a joke to save his life. But he was acting weird. ‘Course, I know what he’s splitting for.”

Pete returned her grin. There were a few unconscious victims lying on the ground, though telltale singeing of their clothes alerted Lois to the fact that Clark had prevented hypothermia, and she went straight to work caring for them until the paramedics arrive, who complimented Lois on her army-taught first aid skills. The police arrived with them, with a tall, short-haired woman in the lead, who approached Pete, seeing Lois preoccupied with the medics.

“I’m Captain Sawyer, with the Metropolis Police Department. Would you mind letting me know what happened?”

Pete answered, “We’re with Archangel Investigations—”

“Yes, I saw the story in the paper,” Capt. Sawyer quickly cut in. She motioned for Pete to continue.

“We got a call from the manager or the owner or somebody. He said that several—it turned out to be four—metahuman—”

“Excuse me?” she cut in again, as she scribbled in her notebook.

“Metahumans,” he repeated, “it’s the name we’ve assigned to these mutated humans. These four people were exposed to some type of mutagen that gave them some sort of freezing ability. Um, usually what happens is Lex Luthor—”

“—takes them to his labs at LexCorp to study them. Many are sent to Belle Reeve. We’re aware. He set up a deal with the mayor. He sends us reports and apparently does all the work out of his own pocket.”

Pete looked surprised at this revelation. “I didn’t know that, but I guess that’s a good thing. Usually…” Pete hesitated to recall Lana’s alias, “Liz deals with Lex.”

“Liz…?”

“McCallum,” he replied.

“And you are…?”

“Bill General. And my associate is Joanne Parker.” Pete showed her a business card. She made no move to take it, so Pete slipped it back into his pocket.

“Did…” Sawyer paused to read her notes, “Mr. Jordan Elliot also assist you?”

“Yeah, he did. He was first on the scene. He had some important business to attend to afterwards.”

The captain nodded and put away her notebook. “Well, Mr. General, it was a pleasure to meet you. You’ve done good work, and I believe the owner would like to speak with you.”

“Thank you,” Pete replied, smiling with relief.

Capt. Saywer ripped a sheet out of her notebook, and handed it to an associate. “Give these to Eric for a background check.”

The owner, a squat, balding man, quickly approached Pete, holding both hands out to shake Pete’s. “Thank you! Thank you! My club was almost ruined!”

“Hey, it’s what we do.”

The owner, Chester Fields, scampered around his club, lamenting, “Oh, this is a mess. It’s going to cost me a fortune to rebuild. Oh, and we’ll be closed for months!”

“Sir?”

Fields simply pulled a checkbook out of his breast pocket, scribbled on it, and gave it to Pete. “Here. I know it’s probably a lot less that you would usually charge, but I’ll have to pay you the difference after I reopen.” Pete wasn’t listening, his eyes bulging. Lois came to see what was making Pete speechless, and became slack-jawed herself. Pete quickly thanked Fields for his generosity, who merely reached into his pocket. “Listen, I don’t know how else to thank you. Here’re free passes to my club. How many do you want?”

“Five should be more than enough…” Pete replied, as Lois took a stack of at least ten.

“Do you want anything to drink? For you, it’s an open bar.”

“Hell, yeah!” Lois scrambled over to the bar and started banging on the table.

Pete surveyed this and commented, “Bad idea. You’ll go out of business.”

“For tonight,” he adds, calling across the room.

“Well, better take advantage of it.” She continued to slam her fist on the counter and scream, “Hey, bartender, quit hiding. You’ve got a customer.”

The bartender, a tall but frightened looking thirty-ish man, meekly poked his head up from behind the counter.

Lois wasted no time in ordering. “I need five tequila shots and an appletini.” The bartender gave her a perplexed look, to which she replied flatly, “I’m a complex woman. Deal with it.”

She alternated between nursing her martini and downing her tequila with only a small twitch of the head. “Here, since this is all on the house, you should at least get a good tip.” She merely handed him a business card with an extension added onto it in purple ink. “It’s only tip I give.”

“Guess I’m the designated driver,” Pete commented, turning toward the owner.

* * *

Chloe sneered at the lipstick tube and held it up to toss it in the bathroom wastebasket, but at the last moment, thought better of it, and slipped it into a small plastic bag and hiding it under the sink when she heard rustling from the next room.

Still in her flannel shirt, she walked into Clark’s bedroom, his hallway door left recklessly open. Seeing him scanning the room with squinted eyes, she called, “Hey, Big Guy, don’t get your briefs in a knot. I just stepped out to freshen up. So, you neutralize the bad guys?”

Clark zipped over to take her in his arms. “Yeah, you should have been there. It was great. But now I’m all riled up.” He took a sharp intake of breath, but continued to leer.

Chloe played along. “Yeah, must have been quite a rush.” Clark grimaced, but tried to shake it off. He stared at Chloe’s lips, still covered in crimson lipstick, and fiercely kissed her, but pulled back, his face in desperation.

“Yeah, I borrowed this from Lana. The other stuff had red kryptonite in it. “You look like your withdrawing.”

Clark didn’t answer, just grunted, and kissed her hard again. He fell to his knees, pulling Chloe with him. “It was about the Red-K, wasn’t it?”

“No!” Clark screamed breathily. “Just makes it better.” He struggled with the words.

“No, Clark, it’s just a drug. You don’t need it.”

Clark kissed her again, this time more softly, but she pulled back. “Clark, I washed it off. There’s no more. I got rid of it.”

“No…”

“I’m sorry, Clark. But I’m here for you.”

“You don’t under—”

Chloe shushed him while holding his head into her arms, stroking his hair. His eyes grew heavy and she helped him into bed until he fell asleep completely. She tried to walk away, but found Clark’s hand around her wrist. While not painfully squeezing her, his grip was iron firm and Chloe knew no amount of prying would ever open his hand, so she lay down beside him.

* * *

The sunlight shown brightly in her face, and Lana rolled over in bed to check the clock. It was nearly 10:30 in the morning, yet Lana still felt exhausted. She had gone to bed close to three and usually never felt this tired after so much sleep. She was kind of surprised that her alarm hadn’t woken her promptly at six-thirty.

She slipped out of bed, finding herself in a black, strapless tank and black jeans. This was neither the cocktail dress she wore to meet Lex in earlier last night nor the pajama set she kept in her top drawer. Granted, she was fairly tired after meeting Chloe in the hallway, and must have crashed, because she hardly remembered going to bed.

Lana was a very neat person, and her drawers were meticulously organized, so Lana figured Lois must have put this ensemble on top in her pajamas drawer—it wouldn’t be the first time Lois had messed with Lana’s organizational habits. Still the clothes were rather uncomfortable to sleep in and Lana had the most terrible itch on her lower back.

* * *

“The Archangel—Revealed!” exclaimed the front page of the Daily Planet. Veronica Venus’s byline shown underneath, with Jimmy’s high-quality but low-light torso shot of “Jordan Elliot.” It gave an aura of mystique. Chloe beamed at her “name” in the paper.

“Continuing your dream,” Clark noted. Chloe just smiled and nodded, looking down at the paper again. Lois and Pete also added their congratulations.

“I, for one,” Lex stated, “think it’s great. Plus, word on the street is that the Atlantis owner is proclaiming on mountaintops about the saviors at Archangel Investigations. There’s a very visible police investigation. I even had to hold a press conference this morning.” He turned to Chloe, “Hey, I had my lab look at some of that lipstick you mentioned. Didn’t find any red kryptonite in it. Do you have your stick? It could be a packaging fluke.”

“It’s missing,” Chloe admitted.

“What?”

Chloe tried not to look at Clark. “I hid it and now it’s gone.”

“Chloe…” Clark began.

“I know Clark. I trust you.”

“Clark,” Lex stated carefully, “I trust you, too. For the most part. But when you’re on red kryptonite, you’re not yourself…”

“He didn’t do it, Lex.”

“Chloe—”

“I know he didn’t do it,” she insisted.

Lex nodded and turned his head toward the staircase, where Lana walked down, in a business casual outfit and a smile.

“I know you set your own hours…” Lex began, looking at his watch.

“I overslept. It was an accident,” Lana replied tersely.

Chloe took a step back, but Lex didn’t move. His voice softened, “Lana, you’ve got bags under your eyes. Did you not sleep well?”

Lana stared blankly at his obvious concern. “I must not’ve.”

Chloe tried to study the scene, but felt her empathy blocked. As powerful as her empathy was, it could be consciously resisted by strong-minded individuals. The rest of the team practiced for years for the sake of privacy. Chloe did not fault them, gladly admitting her own too-curious nature.

“Anyway,” Lex continued, turning back to Chloe, “I’d do a random sample, but I got word from my attorneys this morning. I can’t continue using my R&D money or my laboratories to study the lipstick. It seems LuthorCorp owns the company that does testing for the manufacturer, Bailly Cosmetics. There’s a conflict of interest between it and LexCorp.”

“So that’s it?” Chloe asked.

“Yes. I’ve got a dozen feds breathing down my neck, looking for evidence that my father and I are in cahoots, monopolizing the market. It’s not worth the risk, unfortunately.”

Pete prompted, “You think your dad could be involved? Maybe putting some Red-K in random lipstick tubes.”

Lex chuckled. “As amusing as it would be for my dad to use cosmetics in his nefarious plots, I still wouldn’t give it more than 50-50 odds. Only a fraction of the meteor rock in Smallville is red. I had my enviro teams scour the town, so there’s few remnants of your home planet left, Clark. Though, we weren’t looking for the red stuff. Anyway, I don’t think I can trick my dad into revealing anything of this magnitude. We’ll have to play it by ear.”

* * *

Chloe rubbed her head. An hour ago, a four-foot-long white rat attacked a Starbucks at the corner of Fifth and Strouse. Chloe had received the vision, and now was trying to silence the hammers in her head. A rush of wind prompted her to call out, “Clark? I’m glad you’re here.” She turned around.

“I could hear you groaning from Concord Avenue. I’m guessing you’re overdue for an O-positive cocktail?”

“Pretty please,” she replied mock-sweetly.

Clark slipped off his duster, which Chloe noticed he laid down softly over a chair, confirming her suspicions that he liked the oddly-colored coat more than he let on. She never had understood his fashion sense.

Clark comfortably seated himself on her bed. Chloe thought that Clark would be more awkward with such a gesture as sitting down on a female’s bed.

He cleared his throat to say, “Chloe, about last night…”

“I know… You were on the little red X-pill. Friendship and professional relationship fully intact.”

Clark bit his lower lip and nodded. “We keep getting ourselves in these situations, don’t we?” He had yet to pull out the supplies, but left her nightstand drawer open.

“Someone up there’s got a sense of humor, don’t They?”

“You’re telling me. I’m just glad our friendship weathered another Red-K spell.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Lois said, appearing from thin air, Pete by her side.

Chloe jumped up from the bed, “Hey! How long have you been standing there?” She subtly glanced toward the nightstand where they transfusion kit lay, but neither Pete’s nor Lois’s attention seemed pointed there.

“Long enough to know you’re pulling the ‘Let’s be friends’ card. Again!”

“And, Clark, you’re totally accepting it. Don’t you ever learn?” Pete added.

Chloe shot back, “Hey, how is this any of your business?”

“When it’s my little cousin starting to run away from the love of her life.”

Chloe attempted to respond, but her mouth couldn’t formulate words. “Clark,” she finally stated, “how did you not hear them standing there?”

Lois answered first, “I figured out how to dampen the sound in my can’t-see-me aura.”

Pete jumped, “And, getting back on topic. You know how easily distracted Lois is.” Lois turned her head to shoot a dirty look at Pete, who didn’t notice. “Clark, are you really going to stand there and tell Chloe that the only time you would ever consider being with Chloe is when you’re on Red-K?”

Chloe’s face trembled when Clark didn’t respond right away. “Look, it’s easier this way.”

“No, it’s easier this way,” Lana’s voice forcefully claimed as she appeared in the doorway. “Clark, Chloe, I want you two to start making out right now.” Her tone was strong and leaving no room for contestation. Clark and Chloe faced one another, and after pausing briefly, met in a passionate kiss.

“Whoa,” Lois remarked, “why didn’t we think to recruit Princess Persuasive?”

Pete pondered the embrace. “I thought Clark and Chloe were fairly resistant to your super-voice.”

“People tend to resist less against things they actually want to do. I realized that for Clark to get infected by Red-K lipstick, he’d have to let Chloe kiss him pretty hard.” She smiled.

Pete raised his hand, and Lana’s met his. “Our work here is done,” Lana commented as the three exited the room, leaving Clark and Chloe lip-locked.

Shortly after, Chloe broke the kiss, but remained close to Clark. “Clark?”

“Yeah?” he answered breathily.

“My head is killing me.”

Clark laughed and told her to lie on the bed.

“I like where this is heading,” she teased. Clark, pulling the equipment out, turned to face her. Their eyes locked, and Chloe at that moment didn’t need her empathy to understand what was happening.

* * *

Lana plopped herself down on her magenta-sheeted king bed and opened her laptop. Oddly, her background had been changed from a horse theme to Wiccan insignia. Also, she noted her battery was nearly dead. Opening her internet browser, she also found her homepage moved from Google to The Church of Wicca. She cursed the “impenetrable” malware software Chloe had installed. Apparently one of the sites Willow had shown her had given her something. Checking her bookmarks, she found hundreds of new black magic sites indexed, meticulously organized into folders. At least it was a helpful virus.

She scratched her back again, causing her shirt to ride up, expositing a small, black ink dot on her lower back.

~

Director’s Commentary: I had to promise Allison Mack I’d never make her do this again. And, yes, that was 100% Allison. Sorry it was so dark. It was in her contract. But well worth the rating hike.

And, no, we did not steal this storyline from “Crimson.” Ask the network. Our scripts were submitted at the same time. I know the resemblance is uncanny, but it’s true. You’ve got to hand it to Aaron for bringing it during the Chlimmy breakup scene on both shows. The man is inexhaustible. Luckily, we’ve got him tied for more episodes.

Episode 106, which had a working title of “Roofie,” has been very apty rechristened “Siren” after some much-needed script rewrites. It will be a duly needed Pete-centric. Episode 107, entitled “Helen,” is in the works, though it’s not what you think. What it will be is fairly Lois-centric and “crowded.” That’s all I can say, and that’s all the spoilers you’re gonna get on the episode. The network is still mulling over 108, and after some script changes, it will hopefully be approved for airing.

I’m sure you all recognized Jason Alexander as “Chester Fields.” It was our first experiment in stunt casting and I think it paid off. The four fire metas were played, in order of appearance, by Matt Barr (“Jack Frosty”), Jonathan Rhys (“Hielo”), Roger R. Cross (“Blizzard”), and Alexz Johnson (“Blue”). The bartender was played by Josh Randall, who had the honor of playing the bartender in an Angel episode. And Jill Teed resumes her part as “Capt. Maggie Sawyer.”

On the next episode of Archangel Investigations: Pete meets up with an old flame. Clark and Chloe go out on their first date. Capt. Saywer does some research.

^_^ - I’m fairly sure I passed out from all the Hot!Chloe in the first scene. Clark is the luckiest damn bastard on the f***ing planet. Which reminds, me add “L” to the rating.

Episode 106: Siren

©2006, 2007 Godeerc VanDrey Enterprises, Inc. Created Thursday, December 28, 2006. Finished Saturday, February 10, 2007. Updated Monday, May 7, 2007.