Vengeance

Title: Vengeance
Pairing(s): Actually Clana, but really it's all about the Clex. Obviously :p
Spoilers: up to Season 5 'Vengeance'
Category: episode-related, drama
Rating: PG
Summary: A re-write of 'Vengeance.' Lex discovers more about Clark, Clark ponders on the nature of good and evil and Lionel potters about looking sneaky. Oh, and there's that Vigilante girl hanging around too.

Sunlight streamed across the Kent barn in warm, broken, dust filled shards, one of which fell on a whistling Clark, happily working out the latest kink in the family tractor. Life seemed especially good that afternoon because he and Lana had finally set a date for the wedding. It was only a few months away, and while some had suggested they were rushing things a bit, they both felt they'd spent long enough worrying about their relationship and wanted to establish its certainty as soon as possible.

On top of that, he and Lex were getting on noticeably better lately. Lex was spending more time in the Talon again, and when the two men met, where once there'd been aggressive silence, now there was friendly conversation. Since their dual revelation, neither had mentioned Lex's secret project, or Clark's alien origins, but not because they were avoiding the issues, they simply hadn't needed addressing again. They were just there, out in the open, known and understood, and Clark didn't think he'd ever felt so free.

In fact, he was secretly hoping to be more involved in Lex's project, if he could...

Distracted by his musing Clark twisted the wrench he was using with a little too much enthusiasm, braking it in two.

"Damn..." he muttered, setting the two pieces guiltily aside and reaching for another.

Looking up he saw his father enter the barn, dressed in a formal suit and tie. Clark chuckled; it was still strange seeing his father walk round the farm like that.

"Son," Jonathan said in surprise, seeing Clark at the tractor. "I was just going to take a look at that. What are you still doing here, shouldn't you be at school?"

"I'm not missing anything important right now, Dad," Clark assured him, smiling. "And I knew you wouldn't be able to resist having a look at this thing before your meeting in Metropolis, so I thought I'd stay and fix it for you. You can't go out representing the state with tractor oil on your suit."

The older man's face sagged a little in exasperation.

"Clark," he berated. "I can still fix a tractor just fine, fancy suit or not. I don't want you missing out on your education because you think I'm too busy to take care of the farm."

Clark stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"I don't think that, Dad," he protested. "And I don't have classes today anyway... Really," he added, holding up his hands at his father's disbelief. "I just figured, since I have some free time, I might as well help out a little."

Jonathan gave an uncertain hum as he nodded, pacified only reluctantly, but before he could say anything else Martha appeared in the doorway behind him. She was equally formal in a black dress and heels, vibrant auburn hair neatly straightened.

"Jonathan, what are you doing out here? You're not working on that tractor are you? You'll get filthy," she called, annoyed.

"No, Martha," Jonathan replied, turning round. "It seems the tractor's already been taken care of."

Martha looked in properly and noticed Clark.

"Oh, hi Clark honey, I didn't realise you were still here," she said, giving her son a quick smile. "Thanks for sorting that out sweetie, I just know your father would have ruined his suit trying to do it himself if you hadn't."

Clark grinned and Jonathan shook his head in defeat.

"Anyway Jonathan, we've got to go. If we don't leave now we'll never make it to Metropolis in time," Martha instructed her husband, looking harassed.

"Okay, okay," Jonathan agreed, walking over to her. As they were both leaving he called to Clark over his shoulder. "See you son, make sure to get to your classes tomorrow."

"I will Dad, don't worry," Clark smiled. "Good luck at the meeting!"

Later that evening, Martha was sipping champagne in a manner she hoped appeared casual in the reception of one of Metropolis' finer hotels, watching while the other Senate members' family and friends mingled round the hall - all making the most of the free food and drink the hotel had laid on for the occasion.

After a moment the door to the conference room at the side opened and the Senate members started trailing out, signalling the end of the meeting. Martha spotted Jonathan, looking stressed, and gave a small wave. His expression cleared instantly and he smiled, hurrying over.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he breathed, grabbing her in an embrace. Martha only just managed to lift her glass away in time "God, it's good to see you. I don't think I could have survived two seconds in there without knowing you'd be here when I got out."

Martha pulled out of the hug and looked at her husband in concern. "Was it really that bad?"

Jonathan sighed. "I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. But honestly, the arrogance and sheer, cold-heartedness of some of those other Senators... It's like they don't care about the people at all."

Martha put a hand on his arm, lips twisting in sympathy. "Well honey, some of them probably don't, that's just politics, you'll have to get used to it." She gave him an encouraging smile. "But I know if anyone can change things for the better, it'll be you. You certainly have enough determination, and stubbornness, for the job."

Jonathan grinned.

"Thank you, Martha," he said, voice suddenly deep. "I know you've had your reservations about this. Your support now really means a lot."

Martha grasped her husband's hand, eyes bright with unspoken affection. Until a ringing from Jonathan's jacket broke the moment, forcing the older man to let go with obvious reluctance.

"Ah, damn it," he muttered in frustration, pulling out his newly acquired cell phone. "I knew it was going to be a mistake getting one of these things." Martha just shook her head fondly as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Yes, Jonathan Kent here..." He frowned. "What? Why would I...?" After a quick glance at Martha, the Senator turned away, face creasing as he listened. "I see... Alright, I'll be there soon."

He hung up and made sure to smooth away his worry before turning back to his wife.

"I've got to step out for a moment, will you be alright here for a little longer?" he asked, overly apologetic.

"Of course," Martha shrugged. "It is hard to tire of free champagne after all." She waved the glass in her hand with a smile.

"Okay," Jonathan nodded. Rather too seriously for Martha's liking.

"Jonathan? Is everything okay?" she asked, grabbing his arm as he moved to leave.

"Everything's fine, Martha," Jonathan responded, more sombrely than the occasion seemed to warrant. "Don't worry."

He walked off without another word, leaving Martha to stare uncertainly after him.

Jonathan's eyes were cautious, his body tense, as he stepped out of the ornate hotel doors into the night, ignoring the other groups of people talking and laughing as they left the lobby.

"Senator Jonathan Kent," a smooth voice addressed to his right.

Jonathan turned to see Lionel Luthor standing by small alley a little way off, business suit and tie looking a little incongruous given the setting. He held a large brown folder against his chest.

Jonathan hurried over to him, each step a crisp tap of anger against the sidewalk.

"Alright you son of a bitch," he said. "What's this all about?"

Lionel just smiled.

"Really Senator Kent, a man in your position should learn a little tact."

"Cut the crap Luthor," Jonathan responded. "I know about the campaign funds you so tactfully hinted at on the phone just now, and you should know I'm also going to pay you back every cent."

Lionel raised his eyebrows, looking amused. "I wonder how long that virtuous stance of yours will last after a few more meetings like today's."

Jonathan moved right in front of Lionel, staring him down. "I won't be your puppet."

"I should hope I haven't put my clout and money behind someone who could be anyone's puppet," Lionel responded, entirely unperturbed by the other man's proximity. In a mockingly casual gesture he tapped Jonathan's chest with the folder. "I envision our relationship as more of a partnership." He grinned, eyes dark and smug.

"The day you and I become partners..." Jonathan started, threatening.

"Careful, careful, Senator," Lionel interrupted smoothly, walking away from the bustle outside the hotel and into the alley behind them, opening the folder as he went. "We share a common interest..." He took out a photo, holding it so Jonathan couldn't yet see the picture. "A secret both of us would protect with our lives." Jonathan narrowed his eyes, suspecting a trick. "Really," Lionel continued. "I have nothing but respect for a man who would hurl himself into the limelight with such a... dangerous... secret. That must stay hidden." He held the photo out to Jonathan, who stepped uncertainly into the shadow of the alley to take it.

The light was so dim he couldn't quite make out the image at first. But it didn't take long for understanding to dawn and once it did Jonathan's whole body stiffened. He swallowed painfully, for a second completely at a loss. Then, slowly and deliberately, he crumpled up the image and looked up, eyes as dark as Lionel's.

"I won't let you destroy my family."

Before Lionel could respond, Jonathan pulled his arm back and punched him squarely on the jaw, dropping the picture in the process and sending Lionel flying into a dumpster on the other side of the alley. The businessman scrambled away from it, trying to regain his posture when he suddenly felt an arm against his neck, pinning him against the wall.

"We can withstand anything you bring down on us," Jonathan hissed, feeling a hot pleasure at the blood dripping from the other man's lip. "Because we have each other. That's what will always separate the Kents, from the Luthors." He let Lionel gasp for breath a few seconds longer before releasing his arm and stepping back, watching as the other man loosened his tie, breathing heavily.

"Now..." Jonathan started, but a voice to the right stopped him.

"Hey buddy," Jonathan and Lionel both turned to see a bald man in a black coat walking menacingly towards them, flanked by an equally thuggish Asian. "This a private party?" the bald guy said. "Or can anyone join?" He grinned, punching Jonathan in the face, while his associate moved towards Lionel.

Recovering quickly from the hit Jonathan whipped his head back to his assailant, expression furious, heart still pounding from his previous confrontation.

"Why you..." he began, but cut off with a gasp as a tightness enveloped his chest. He put a hand to it automatically, but it did little to ease the pain, now also spreading up his arm. The bald thug laughed.

Behind him Lionel was holding out his wallet, pleading with second assailant.

"Here, just take what you want," he said, still breathing hard but rapidly gaining composure - it wasn't like anything he had on him couldn't be replaced ten times over, after all.

"Was planning on it," the Asian said, chuckling.

He grabbed the wallet Lionel was offering and dealt him a hard, backhand blow to the side of his face. The momentum flung Lionel towards the dumpster again, where he hit his head on a corner and fell to the floor unconscious. The Asian guy started to search him.

Meanwhile, the other guy was mocking Jonathan.

"Sorry pops," he said. "Guess you used up your fighting power today already." He grabbed the still gasping Senator by the shoulder and quickly searched his pockets, taking his cell phone and wallet. As a final thought he pulled Jonathan's watch off his wrist before flinging him against the wall. Jonathan's head banged roughly against the brick and he slipped down it with a groan, black dots flashing brightly before his eyes.

"Still," the thug sniffed. "I don't take kindly to people who try and cross me. And besides, you look like you need putting outta your misery anyway... Slit this one's throat," he called to his associate, slipping the watch in his pocket as he moved away.

Stepping from Lionel's unconscious form, the Asian pulled a knife from his jeans with a grin. But before he could get any further, a heavy force from above slammed into him, pushing him backwards.

Hearing the commotion, the bald guy turned to find his partner knocked for six on the granite floor. Looming above him was a woman, implausibly decked in black leather pants, red top, and flowing black coat, the top half of her face obscured by a black cotton mask.

Before Baldy could register surprise, the woman had him pinned against the wall, head turned roughly to the right. A tattoo of the number 13 showed clearly on his neck.

"I've been looking for you," she hissed.

"Hey! Back off!"

Behind them the Asian had somehow fought back to consciousness and managed, though obviously groggy, to pull a weak Jonathan up to his chest. He held his knife dangerously close to the Senator's neck. The woman looked round, eyes calm beneath her mask as she flicked them over the two men, taking in the situation.

"Freeze, or I cut him!" the thug warned.

Jonathan, still flittingly in and out of consciousness himself, watched the woman apparently jump away and then felt the guy holding him being hit from behind. Carried by an impossible amount of momentum the man flew past the bald guy and landed with a sickening thud at the end of the alley. Baldy, eyes wide with fear, took a couple of slow steps back before turning to run.

The next thing Jonathan remembered was opening his eyes to a large silver belt buckle with skull and crossbones design. It fell below his sight as the mysterious woman leant him carefully against the wall.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," she said, before vanishing into the shadows.

Across the alley Lionel woke up just as Jonathan slipped away again. He looked around in confusion for a few seconds then realised the thugs were gone and he and Jonathan were alone. The folder and the crumpled photograph were lying on the ground not far away. Lionel picked them up and dusted himself down nonchalantly.

Without rushing he stepped over to Jonathan and bent down to check his pulse. Nodding to himself, he stood up and started to walk away, calmly reaching into his jacket and ripping the lining to reveal a hidden cell phone and bundle of notes. He flipped the phone open and dialled a number.

"Yes, I need an ambulance please..."

Clark rushed down the corridor of Metropolis General Hospital, red jacket flapping unheeded about his white and blue checked shoulders, with Lana right behind him, her own waist-cut cream jacket buttoned neatly over the silky lilac dress and jeans beneath. They found Martha wanting for them outside a closed room that Clark hoped fervently contained a safe and breathing Jonathan.

"Mom," he called, giving her a quick hug. "How is he?" Lana came up by his side looking concerned, her arm was no longer restricted to a sling but it did have a small, white cast covering it from wrist to elbow, just visible through her jacket sleeve.

"He's okay," Martha nodded to both of them. "The doctor's just with him now."

"What happened, Mrs. Kent?" Lana asked.

"Was it his heart again?" Clark added, face etched with guilt - it was his fault Jonathan's heart was so weak in the first place, after all, the result of Jor-El's influence on the man's body when Jonathan had requested the power to bring home a violent Clark, high on red kryptonite; Clark didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for that.

Martha shook her head. "I honestly don't know," she said, obviously upset. "He just went out for ten minutes, I didn't even know anything was wrong until the ambulance arrived."

Affected by the guilt in Martha's voice Lana took her hand.

"Don't worry Mrs. Kent, the men of your family are a strong breed, I'm sure he'll be just fine." Martha gave her a small smile. "And don't blame yourself, you couldn't have known something like this was going to happen."

Clark was about to say something in agreement when the tall, dark-haired doctor stepped out of the room.

"You can go in now," he said. "But try not to get him excited. His heart took quite a knock today, he needs rest."

Everyone nodded seriously and they all took a couple of breaths to dispel any lingering panic before entering the room. Inside, a weak but living Jonathan, decked in badly fitting, pale green hospital pyjamas, sat up in bed and smiled at them.

"Hey," he said.

"Oh, Jonathan," Martha replied, rushing over and hugging him tightly. Jonathan closed his eyes and accepted the embrace with a grateful sigh. Martha kept hold of his hand as she broke away and continued to grasp it even as she sat down beside him.

"Hey, Dad," Clark smiled.

"Mr. Kent," Lana added.

Jonathan beamed at them both, gaze lingering with particular fondness over Lana. He may have been weary about Clark revealing his secret to her, but he had to admit it was pleasant to think of the girl as a future daughter-in-law.

"Lana, I'm sorry to have brought you back here again. I know how sick of the place you must be by now."

"Oh, it's no trouble, Mr. Kent," Lana shook her head. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Well, so am I," Jonathan nodded. "And Lana, please, call me Jonathan."

A small blush of delight coloured Lana's cheeks and she looked down for a moment in embarrassment before giving a nod and shy smile back.

"Dad, what happened?" Clark asked, his worry making him all but ignore the domestic exchange, despite its relevance to him and his fiancée.

Jonathan cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed himself.

"Oh, it... it was the stupidest thing..." he began evasively.

"What, Jonathan?" Martha insisted. "Was it something to do with why you had to leave for a while? None of the other Senators did anything did they?"

"No, Martha, no of course not. It was... I..." Jonathan paused for a second, eyes flicking over Clark and Lana again with a faint nod that seemed to bring him to a decision. "Well the fact of the matter is I was just heading back inside the hotel when a couple of guys jumped me from behind. I rather stupidly tried to take them on, and well, I guess I just wasn't up to it."

Martha looked appalled.

"You mean you tried to fight off two attackers, on your own? Jonathan, you shouldn't take risks like that!"

"I know, I know," Jonathan muttered, a little disgruntled now at Martha's poor opinion of his fighting capabilities. "I just wanted to prove I could handle myself sometimes." He shrugged. "As it was I ended up being rescued anyway, by a woman in some kind of pirate costume of all things."

"Really?" Clark asked, his bafflement speaking for all of them.

"Anyway, that's not what bugs me the most about the whole thing," Jonathan continued. "The guys robbed me, grabbed that new cell phone and my wallet, but they also took my watch. I know it wasn't worth much, but it belonged to my grandfather. It's sort of a Kent family heirloom, it was going to be yours one day, Clark." He gave a sharp sigh. "I just can't believe I've lost it, after all this time."

Martha patted his hand in sympathy.

"Well..." Lana began. "Can't maybe the police do something?"

Jonathan smiled at her sadly.

"With the crime rate as it is in Metropolis?" he shook his head. "They've got enough on their hands without the trouble of looking for one lousy watch. I'll make a statement at the nearest station as soon as I get out of here, but it's unlikely they'll be able to do much."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Clark said, face clouding. "It's not fair the people who did this are just gonna get away with it. You could have been killed!"

Jonathan nodded; pleased to know he'd brought up such a fair-minded son.

"I know son, but sometimes that's just the way things happen."

Clark frowned, eyes darkening at his father's loss, and how much worse it could have been. Someone should do something about that.

The next afternoon, and a couple of missed classes later, a thoroughly dejected Clark Kent met Chloe at her desk at the Daily Planet. He sighed, leaning back against the polished wood as she finished typing something into her computer.

"I've just spent half the day talking to the Metropolis PD and no one has any leads on who mugged my Dad."

He shook his head. Doesn't anyone care about justice in this city?

Chloe looked up at him distractedly. She wore a professional grey jacket and pants over a low-cut purple top, blonde hair hanging loose and straight at her shoulders - a sure sign she was working on something serious. A few locks fell across her face as she moved and she brushed them aside with a practiced gesture.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm on that. I've got a mole at the precinct, he's gonna fax me the police report." She suddenly perked up, remembering something. "But, your Dad actually saw the Vigilante..." You could practically see the words 'exclusive interview' shining in her eyes.

"Yeah..." Clark replied, face tensing a little at his friend's unspoken plan. They hadn't released his dad from the hospital yet and Clark wasn't sure he was exactly well enough for a visit from an excitable Chloe. "But it was only for a second, before he passed out."

"Yeah, but still, that's something." Chloe jumped up and headed to a light-table with papers on behind her, radiating excitement as she suddenly switched to 'let me explain' mode. "Do you know there's been rumours of her flying around Suicide Slums for weeks? But no eye-witnesses until your Dad." She stopped behind the table, indicating the papers and grinning like a manic. "Now this has 'front page news' written all over it. The Vigilante's real."

Clark saw the papers were full of snippets of information of the 'Vigilante', as Chloe called her. There was even an artist's rendering of her face, complete with black face mask come pirate bandana. Clark picked it up to study more closely; he couldn't help thinking the mask looked kind of stupid. None of this will help my Dad though. He sighed with frustration.

"It's great you're cashing in on crime like this, Chloe," Clark said, with a hint of disapproval. "But my Dad nearly died yesterday, and now he's hurt and in hospital. I just want to help him get his watch back."

"I'm sorry," Chloe said, grimacing slightly. "I didn't mean to belittle your Dad's experience or anything. It's awful what happened to him."

Clark gave his newly penitent friend a small smile, a little ashamed at his reprimand. It wasn't actually Chloe he was mad at here after all.

"It's okay, Chloe," he shrugged. "You're a real reporter now, you've gotta go after a story when you can. Just, call me if you hear anything alright?"

Chloe nodded and Clark turned to leave, crashing straight into a woman holding a stack of papers behind him. The pages slipped through her fingers instantly, scattering on the floor by their feet.

"Oh, sorry!" Clark and the woman said together, bending down to retrieve the fallen items.

Clark gathered the last of them up and gave the woman, who was wearing heavy, black-framed glasses, hair in a tight ponytail, an encouraging smile. She returned it with an embarrassed one of her own and took the papers.

"I really am sorry," she said again, before turning to Chloe, who'd been watching with amusement. "They're today's obits," the woman explained, still rather flustered, as she deposited her hoard in Chloe's arms.

"Thanks," Chloe replied grinning.

Realising he was again holding the artist's image of the Vigilante - it had fallen to the floor with the other papers - Clark slipped it back on the light table next to Chloe. The bespectacled woman looked at it briefly before turning away and hurriedly leaving the office, pushing her glasses up her nose as she went.

At the mansion in Smallville, Lex paced restlessly before his desk, a cell phone at his ear.

"...no, I don't care what the people at Apex told you, I know they're not working alone... then use some indirect means to find out, I need to know who's tipping them off!" he yelled, hanging up and slapping the phone on the desk in frustration, thin, long-sleeved black Tee doing little to cool his flushed skin.

"Bad time?" a voice asked behind him.

Lex turned in surprise to find Clark Kent, in all his farmboy glory, standing in the doorway, looking apologetic about it no less.

"Clark," Lex stated, wanting to smile but not sure of things enough to try.

Clark and him had been getting on better lately, god knew their mutual revelations had certainly cleared the air, but Lex couldn't help thinking any day now Clark might come charging in demanding he put a stop to 33.1 immediately or else. Despite the thought Lex had yet to implement any contingency plans on the matter, remiss of him. Still, Clark's demeanour indicated today wasn't that day, so Lex decided not to worry about it yet.

"It's nothing I wouldn't welcome a distraction from," Lex said in answer to Clark's question. "What brings you here?"

Clark moved closer, hands in his red jacket pockets, and looked down embarrassed. He was an awkward teenager all over again and Lex's heart tightened with affection at the sight.

"Actually..." Clark started, wetting his lips as he looked up in a way Lex tried unsuccessfully to ignore. "Look, I know this is completely against the Friendship Rebuilding handbook and everything, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favour?"

Lex had to smile at the anguished look on Clark's face. The young man's apparent fear of Lex's disapproval was an interesting and unexpected result of their trip to the Arctic the night of Lana's accident and if he wanted to Lex could easily exploit it.

As it was, he was far too scared to risk pushing Clark away again.

"I don't think there is a handbook for our relationship, Clark," Lex said, leaning against the desk - relaxed conversation coming back with surprising ease. "Please, ask away."

Clark smiled in relief. "It's about my Dad..."

Lex's expression turned to concern. "I heard what happened. Is he alright?"

"Yeah," Clark nodded. "He's gonna be fine, he just needs to take it easy for a while."

"Then what do you need for him, Clark?" Lex asked seriously. "I could have him transferred to a private ward if it would help."

Clark was touched by both the sincerity and immediacy of the other man's suggestion.

"Thanks Lex, it's really great of you to offer, especially considering, you know, how you two were rivals just recently."

"I may have been campaigning against him, but that doesn't mean I want to see him hurt. And besides..." Lex paused for a moment, remembering a smiling, bespectacled, dream Senator Kent shaking his hand warmly. The older man's coma induced Christmas vision might have been a crazy fantasy with an unhappy ending - one that told him, if nothing else, he obviously shouldn't marry Lana - but there were certain parts Lex thought his subconscious had probably got right. "I guess in the end it was the best man for the job who got the vote. I'm starting to think I may have been running for the wrong reasons."

Clark gave Lex an oddly proud smile. He knew how much effort Lex had put into his election campaign, how important, almost obsessively so, being Senator had become to him. It must have been difficult to admit to himself that it might have been a mistake, yet here he was going one step further and admitting it to Clark. It made the younger man all the more certain continuing their friendship had been the right decision, for both of them.

Lex smiled back. It was ridiculous, really, that after everything he'd done during that campaign, the acts of corruption he'd felt wrap round him like a spider's web, that one absolving look from Clark Kent could leave him feeling utterly clean again.

"So, what do you need Clark?" he asked, picking up his phone. "I can get on to Metropolis General right now."

"Oh, it's nothing like that," Clark answered hurriedly; realising Lex was completely serious about contacting the hospital. "I mean, like I said, thanks for the offer. But I actually wondered if you could help track down his attackers."

Lex raised his eyebrows.

"You never struck me as the vengeful type, Clark," he said with a small smile, expecting further explanation. He wasn't disappointed.

"No, it's not that," Clark shook his head. "I don't care about the attackers themselves. Well, I'd like to see them in jail, obviously. But the thing is they took my Dad's favourite watch, and it's kinda a family heirloom, and..." Clark shrugged. "I was just hoping you could help me get it back. I know it, sounds kinda stupid."

"It doesn't," Lex responded seriously. "I know how important a watch can be sometimes." Clark remembered the watch Lex's mother had given him before she died and nodded. "I'll get my people to look into it," Lex finished.

"Thanks, Lex," Clark said gratefully. "I've got Chloe working on it to, but I figured..."

"Two heads are better than one," Lex completed, smiling. "Don't worry, Clark, we'll get your Dad's watch back."

And when Lex said it like that, Clark couldn't help feeling certain of success.

Later that evening, Clark was back at the Daily Planet waiting for Chloe's mysterious mole to finally fax her the police report of his father's mugging. He'd wanted to stay with Lex, but the millionaire had some important business matters he had to take care of so Clark had left him to it, assured that Lex's men were, well, doing whatever it was they did to gather information. Clark wondered what it must be like to have minions at your disposal like that. Not as fun as it might sound, he supposed, remembering Darius, who'd been bribed by Lionel to drug Lex's scotch. Clark hoped Lex made sure the staff at 33.1 were trustworthy.

Chloe finished typing the end of her Vigilante article with a flourish, and then sat back in her chair with a sigh.

"Come on, Clark," she instructed without looking at him. "You need to help come up with a catchy call sign..."

Clark looked uncertain, but it didn't matter because Chloe wasn't paying attention to him anyway, in fact her eyes had an oddly glazed look as she searched for the perfect phrase.

"Miss Death Wish!" she said suddenly, making Clark blink, but her face fell immediately. "No, that's too lame..." she concluded. "What about..." She tapped her fingers on the desk for a moment before brightening up again. "Dirty Harriet!" But that too was immediately discounted. "No, that's too derivative."

Just when Clark thought it might be a good moment to ask about the police reports again Chloe clapped her hands in excitement.

"I've got it, Clark!" she yelled. "When I spoke to your father earlier he said she seemed to swoop down from above, so, how about, the Angel of Vengeance?" She typed the name into the empty headline space triumphantly.

Spoke to my father? Clark thought, hoping Chloe hadn't been too pushy.

"Um, that's great Chloe," he muttered. "Now, those police reports?"

"Oh yeah, sorry," Chloe said. "I'll go check on them." She stood up and headed out to the communal fax machine in the hall. "Don't you have anything better to do today anyway? I mean, where's Lana?"

Clark frowned a little - he hadn't even thought about her since beginning his search that morning.

"Um, I don't know. I haven't seen her all day. I guess she has classes..." he muttered, scuffing his feet against the vacated desk as an all too familiar guilt started to creep up on him.

"You guess?" Chloe asked in mock shock. "What happened to the Lana stalking Clark we all know and love? You're only engaged you know, the passion's not meant to cool till after the wedding."

Clark lifted his head to the office entrance and gave a wry smile.

"Thanks, Chloe," he said, tilting his head at her. "And I dunno," he shrugged, turning more serious. "I guess now we're engaged it's like I don't have to worry about her so much anymore."

Chloe nodded.

"Well, I guess before a lot of your relationship was about pursuit and retention. Now you've finally caught her for good you can relax," she said, somewhat matter-of-fact.

Clark looked at her sceptically, not sure if he liked having his relationship with Lana reduced to some kind of butterfly chase like that. Though Chloe did have a point, Clark had spent a lot of time longing after Lana and never quite managing to hold on to her, now they were really together things felt undeniably... different. Clark decided to change the subject.

"Anyway," he said, eyeing her significantly. "Enough with the distractions Chloe, police reports remember?"

"Right, got it." Chloe nodded and started walking outside. Clark shook his head fondly.

"Honestly," Clark called after her. "I'm starting to think I'd have done better staying with Lex."

"Lex?" Chloe called back to him in surprise. "You asked him to help with this? You think that's such a good idea? I mean, after everything he's done recently."

Clark winced at the jibe to his newly re-established friend.

"You know, actually I think maybe we've been misjudging Lex," Clark began, the phrase sounding unlikely even to himself. "I mean, we've been pretty quick to jump to conclusions, maybe he had good reason for the things he did..."

In the hall Chloe looked decidedly unconvinced.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation for setting three murderous thugs loose on innocent people," she called sarcastically as she reached the fax machine. The police reports had indeed arrived by now and she picked them up. "I know you like to see the good in everyone Clark, but sometimes-"

A loud whooshing sound cut her off and Chloe felt herself grabbed from behind, a powerful, gloved hand across her mouth.

"I hear you're planning a front page story," a hard, female voice whispered in her ear. Chloe managed to turn her head a bit and recognised the masked face of the Vigilante. "I'm guessing that would be bad for my health," the woman continued. "Let it go. Comprende?" she finished, vaguely menacing.

Concerned at her cut out mid-sentence, which was a particularly un-Chloe-like thing to do, Clark stepped into the hall behind them.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he called to the masked woman, moving forwards. Before he could do anything though, the woman tossed Chloe aside and punched Clark in the chest as soon as he was close enough, sending him flying over the counter with the fax machine and crashing down on a desk behind it.

Taken by surprise at the woman's obviously superhuman strength, Clark lay blinking on the floor - just watching as she jumped elegantly onto the counter in front of him, crouching into a cat-like position.

"Stay out of my way," she told Clark, staring him down. "I'm one of the good guys."

As she disappeared with another whoosh! up the stairs, Clark thought maybe he believed her. Good guys were increasingly hard to define these days.

"Wow," Chloe muttered stepping over parts of broken desk to get to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Clark nodded as she helped him up. They both dusted themselves off and headed back into the office, Chloe picking up the fallen reports on the way.

"Well, I guess round one goes to the X chromosomes huh?" Chloe stated as she walked back to her desk, clearly impressed. "And that costume? How cool was that?"

"A little over the top if you ask me," Clark replied, thinking a 'good guy' shouldn't have to wear a mask. "Can I see those reports now?" Chloe handed them over distantly, mind clearly still on her Angel of Vengeance.

"You know, choke hold and everything aside, I've got to give the girl props for patrolling the streets," Chloe continued, walking over to the coffee machine while Clark flicked through the reports. As she poured herself a large cup Chloe's expression turned from awe-struck to thoughtful. "Now, I just wonder if we're dealing with natural-born ninja territory, or if she's just another common garden variety Kryptofreak?"

"Whatever she is," Clark said absently, still looking over the reports as he followed Chloe back to her desk. "If she's resorting to threatening rookie reporters she must have issues."

"Oh, come on, Clark," Chloe responded as she sat down, a little put out at being termed a 'rookie' and still wanting to defend her new, strong, female heroine. "You can't tell me you've never crossed any boundaries to protect your identity."

Clark looked up at that, suddenly guilty again. Stronger this time. Yeah, he thought, like not telling a friend the truth about seven weeks of lost memory, or mocking his interest in aliens I know exist.

"Well, maybe I was wrong to do some of the things I did. Putting my identity before others, especially my friends... it's not fair," he said, staring vacantly for a moment before snapping himself back with a blink. "And anyway," he continued before Chloe could call him on the comment. "I might have to get to know our mystery woman better than she'd like. The police have no leads, so your Angel of Vengeance might be the only one who can ID the guys who mugged my Dad."

Chloe blinked at Clark in surprise, wondering where the sudden laxness towards a secret he'd guarded so closely the past five years had come from. Still mostly in story-mode though, she chose not to comment, channelling her thoughts back to the Vigilante instead.

"Well, after the way she chop-sockied you tonight I wouldn't hold out for an invitation to tea," she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Clark sighed. Chloe was right, and he could always wait and see if Lex's men came up with any different information anyway. But then again, he didn't want to impose on his friend more than he could help at the moment, and besides, now he knew this Vigilante woman was more than your run-of-the-mill human he had to admit his interest was piqued. After all, if she was Kryptonite infected she might need help. If he could just think of a way to find her... he grinned slyly at his friend.

"We might not have to," he said in response to her comment. Chloe tilted her head, curious.

A long half hour later and Chloe was walking sulkily down one of the shadier looking streets of Suicide Slums, looking particularly conspicuous in a white beret and plaid coat. After a few steps a figure in a black balaclava suddenly jumped at her, grabbing her purse. Chloe grabbed the handle and tried to take it back, looking oddly unsurprised by the turn of events.

"No! Please help!" Chloe yelled in a manner entirely opposed to her usual feisty personality.

"Gimme the purse!" the thief responded, tone rough yet surprisingly non-menacing. The two of them played an unlikely game of tug of war for a moment, before Chloe let go of the purse in defeat.

"Alright, you know what?" she told her attacker, whipping off her hat in frustration. "We've taken this show all over town and it obviously isn't working!"

Behind the balaclava Clark shared her frustration, but he wasn't willing to give up yet.

"It's because you're not screaming loud enough," he said, hoping to goad her into proving him wrong. Instead Chloe just looked exasperated.

"Clark! I've freaked out every alley cat within a four block radius," she looked at Clark pleadingly.

"Okay," Clark consented. "Just, one more time. Come on." He held out the purse, trying for a puppy-dog look that didn't quite make it passed the balaclava. Chloe reluctantly took the handle again. "Okay... go."

"No, help, please," the reporter called, tone monotonous and unconvincing. Clark pulled off the balaclava, eyes wide and beseeching.

"Come on Chloe, you've gotta give it some feeling!"

Chloe sighed; this was going way beyond her journalistic ambitions. "Stooop!" She yelled - thinking that conveyed her feelings pretty accurately.

A whoosh! from behind Clark surprised them both, and Clark turned to see their rather pitiful ruse had, in fact, succeeded. The so-called Angel of Vengeance regarded them wearily.

"You again," she muttered, recognising them. Angry at being tricked she moved to take a swing at Clark, but this time the alien was ready for her. He grabbed her fist mid-punch and pulled her arm behind her back, spinning her around and against him.

"I didn't come here for a fight," he insisted over her shoulder.

"Well, I'm not wearing dance shoes," she responded scathingly, thrusting back with her free elbow.

Clark dodged, freeing her other arm in the process. She came at him again and in the confusion Clark pushed her away, sending her flying into a large set of industrial piping, which burst at the contact, covering the area in steam. As Clark and Chloe peered through the vapour, trying to determine if their eccentric assailant was okay, Clark felt a something cottony slide between his fingers. Looking down, he realised he'd removed the woman's mask during the struggle.

After a few seconds the steam cleared and the figure of the Vigilante emerged unscathed. Clark and Chloe were astonished to recognise the woman from the Daily Planet.

Before anyone could say anything, she kicked Clark in the stomach, forcing him against a wire fence, which collapsed from the pressure. She then jumped away up the nearest skyscraper, moving from ledge to ledge with superhuman agility until reaching the rooftop.

Recovering quickly from his fall, Clark gave a short nod to Chloe and zipped through the building, following her. He reached the top the same time she did, making her pause in surprise, small eyes narrowed in a war between shock and admiration.

A few blocks away Lex was in the LuthorCorp building, heading angrily towards his father's office, a long, black jacket now pulled over his Tee and flapping behind him. His people had finally discovered who was working with the Apex Group, and he couldn't say he was surprised. He and Clark might be trying for a more open relationship now, but Lionel was always about playing games.

Lex walked briskly into the office, automatic doors fanning open around him with a drama Lex didn't entirely dislike, and found his father at his desk. He had an expensive looking pistol with a white handle in his hands and was examining it carefully.

"Well, if I'd known you wanted a duel, I'd have brought my own pistol," Lex quipped, falling easily into the cat-and-mouse style banter his father had schooled him so well in. Well enough to make an open, truthful conversation actually more difficult for Lex. Another reason he'd been so loathe to let go of his connection to Clark - because whatever else was going on, Clark was the only person Lex had ever felt comfortable being honest with, even if it was sometimes in anger. Maybe because even when the boy had been lying to him, Clark had never applied the double standards everyone else associated with a Luthor, had never regarded Lex as a Luthor at all in fact - any criticism had always been about Lex, and Lex alone.

"Oh no, Lex," Lionel chuckled, pointing the pistol upwards to exhibit it better. "This isn't a weapon, this is a piece of history. A gift, from a grateful overseas partner." He glanced at Lex in amusement.

Lex pursed his lips, biting back irritation - because his father's words held a double meaning, as always.

"That's right," he said, toned clipped. "A duel would require you to face your opponent. You prefer to strike when they least expect it."

Lionel stopped his now fake admiration of the gun and placed it reverently in a large, velvet lined, metal box.

"Oh, the activity in the Asian market this morning, is that what you mean?" he asked, too casually to be natural, as he stood up and poured himself a glass of water from a jug on the counter to the side. Lex just watched him, not moving from the front of the desk.

"I heard," Lionel continued. "Brokers were buying up LuthorCorp shares like they were half priced pot-stickers."

Lex sighed, after his friendly talk with Clark this afternoon he was tired of the games already.

"Come on, Dad," he said, not quite hiding his frustration this time. "You're just using the Chinese. I know you're the one leading the Apex Group's hostile take over."

Lionel put down his drink and turned to his son, mildly impressed. He smiled.

"And I didn't think you were paying attention," he said walking over. "I'm pleased to see that is not the case."

Lionel reached out to put a hand on his son's shoulder, but Lex grabbed his wrist tightly, stopping him.

"Wipe that smug smile off your face, I won't let it happen," he said coldly, tossing the arm away.

"And how're you going to stop it? Leveraged recapitalisation?" the older man mocked. "Your campaign directly compromised LuthorCorp's assets. There's not a single bank that'll give you the money you need."

Lionel walked calmly back to his desk, like a king to a throne, and Lex turned to watch him, trying not to let his uncertainty show. His father was right, Lex was in a difficult position - he'd need to come up with a pretty decent plan, and soon, if he wanted to stop Lionel taking over the company.

"So what are you going to do for an encore?" Lex asked, voice steady to prove he wasn't intimidated. "Put a bullet in my head?"

Lionel laughed.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Lex," he said, picking up the pistol again. "I would never fire this, it's priceless. You know General Macarthur wore this when he came back to the Philippines." He raised an eyebrow. "What was it he said, son?" He paused, building up suspense. As if I don't know, Lex thought. "I have returned," Lionel finished smugly.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Dad," Lex said turning to leave. "You haven't taken the beach yet..."

Lex walked purposefully out of the office, maintaining an image of certainly right until he left the building. Then he stopped, lent his back against the smooth surface of glass separating him from the lobby and closed his eyes. Damn. What am I going to do now? His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his cell. He reached for it and held it to his ear without opening his eyes.

"Yes?" his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the reply. Finally he opened his eyes again. "Are you sure?" A further pause. "Where are you now?" Lex nodded. "I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, Lex pulled up in front of a run down building in Suicide Slums, not far from Clark and Chloe's recent escapades. A dusty neon sign read 'Motel.' Lex stepped out of his car - driving gloves still on, he looked more impressive that way - locked the car carefully and made his way round the back of the building. A group of obviously homeless, and particularly scruffy men were huddled round a small fire inside a trashcan. A little way to the right a nervous looking man in a battered, brown leather coat and fingerless gloves was sitting on an up-turned crate, light from the flames painting odd patterns on his dark skin. He was flanked by two official looking men in security uniforms, both with a LuthorCorp logo on their shirt pockets. They nodded to Lex, who walked over, unperturbed by his surroundings.

"This is the guy," the man on the right said, emotionless.

Lex looked down at the man on the crate, causing him to rub his gloved hands together unhappily.

"You know something about a mugging that took place outside the Royal Hotel the other night?" Lex asked.

"I... err..." the man shifted uneasily. "I don't know..." he muttered.

Lex crouched down so he was facing the man, resting his arms on his knees.

"You won't get into trouble," Lex told the guy, holding his gaze. The man seemed to calm a little. "I just want information. And I'm willing to pay," he added, pulling his wallet out of his trouser pocket. He took a folded hundred-dollar bill from it and held it up between two fingers. The man on the crate stared at it, eyes wide.

"I..." he eyed Lex cautiously as though suspecting a trick - Lex just looked back at him expectantly. Seemingly convinced the guy nodded. "Yeah, I know something. I deal in cells, you know? People got a phone they want money for, but don't wanna go through official channels, they come to me. Well, this morning, two guys come to me saying they pulled a double whammy outside the Royal last night. Two rich looking folk fighting it out in an alley, all these guys had to do was step in and clean up, you know?"

Lex leaned closer, curious.

"Two rich guys?" he asked.

The man on the crate nodded, enthusiastic about the story now.

"Yeah, yeah. Only turns out one of them weren't so rich. Only had your basic cell, not even with photographic capability..."

Lex nodded - inwardly grinning. That sounded like Mr. Kent all right, basic, salt of the earth, even in his choice of cell phone.

"This other guy though, betcha he was loaded. His cell had everything, password protection, camera function, access to the Net, in-built organiser, you name it. Convinced those schmucks to sell it at half the price it'll fetch me." The guy grinned proudly.

"Then, you still have this phone?" Lex pressed. There weren't many people in Metropolis would could afford that type of up-to-date equipment, fewer still who might be in a brawl with Jonathan Kent. Lex was starting to think this conversation might prove beneficial to more than just Clark.

"Maybe..." the guy replied, suddenly evasive, knowing an interested buyer when he saw one.

Lex blew out a sigh; aware he'd appeared too eager. He could take the phone by force... but there was no point upsetting possible future informants without reason. And besides, he had nothing against this man. In a way Lex admired him, at least he was up front about the less than legal aspects of his business.

"How much?" Lex asked.

The man grinned. "Five hundred."

"For one phone?" Lex said, unimpressed.

"And the information," the guy countered.

Lex shook his head. "Two," he bartered.

The man leaned back casually. "I got other contacts can offer me more," he said with a shrug.

Lex highly doubted that but he took a couple more notes out of his wallet anyway.

"Two-fifty. But only if you tell me who the guys who sold it to you were and where I can find them." He offered the money with an air of finality.

The man nodded. "Okay," he reached into his jacket and pulled out a shiny, expensive looking cell phone. "I don't know both their names," he said, handing the phone to Lex and taking the money. "But the main guy's called Snake. They're both part of the 13th Street Gang. Their HQ is always changing though, I dunno where you'd find them right now."

"Alright, thanks." Lex stood up and nodded to the two security men, they followed him as he started walking away. "I need you to pay a visit to this 13th Street Gang and discover exactly where I can find this guy, Snake," Lex instructed - the others nodded, as though finding secret gangs was nothing more than collecting dry-cleaning. "Call me when you have the information."

"Yes, sir," one of the men responded. Before Lex reached his car they'd already disappeared back into the city's murky streets.

As he reached the vehicle, Lex flipped open the phone he'd just acquired to examine it more closely. The display asked for a password and Lex typed something in carefully. There was a quiet 'beep' and Lex had access to all the item's features. Selecting the personal organiser and yesterday's date, Lex was presented with a reminder for 'Apex meeting. Discuss LuthorCorp stocks.' He smiled in humourless satisfaction.

Back on the rooftop a few blocks away Clark and the Angel of Vengeance aka. Office worker at the Daily Planet were eyeing each other wearily.

"Okay," the woman said. "You want a show and tell, meathead, you go first."

"Um... I dunno..." Clark replied, instantly evasive. Despite his confession to Chloe about being less protective of his identity, he didn't exactly want to reveal the truth to a stranger like this either. The woman shrugged at his silence and started to walk away. "I was born this way," Clark admitted to her retreating form. That, at least, was true.

Turning slowly she gave Clark an odd look, eyes bright with something like envy.

"You're lucky," she said. "The worst part is remembering what it was like to be normal."

"Then, how did you...?" Clark began, not without unsympathy.

"Turn into a freak of nature?" she clarified, continuing before Clark could protest - apparently quite glad of a confident, despite her bravado. "When I got a heart transplant, six months ago. A girl dies in a meteor shower and suddenly I get a souped-up second chance. You have no idea what it's like to know that someone's life has been traded for yours."

Clark looked down, unable to meet her sorrowful gaze. No, he thought. But I've come pretty damn close.

"That's why I carry this," she continued, opening a locket around her neck. "So I'll never forget."

Clark moved closer to see what was inside and was hit by a wave of pain and nausea he recognised immediately as kryptonite poisoning. Groaning a little he stepped back, and the woman looked up at him questioningly.

"I'm kinda allergic," he explained. He might not be ready to reveal everything to her, but he couldn't help feeling a slight affinity with this woman and felt she deserved the truth. Her methods might seem unorthodox, but she was ultimately using her powers to help people, and wasn't that just what Clark wanted to do? And Lex? Maybe they could help each other somehow. Considering she was kryptonite infected she might even be happy at 33.1.

"Allergic to a rock?" the woman was muttering. "Okay, whatever." She closed the locket and slipped it under her top. "So," she shrugged. "I guess you and Sullivan have enough dirt on me now to write your little article." She moved closer, gaze full of ice.

"I'm not here to expose you," Clark said quickly. "I need your help. You saved my Dad yesterday; some guys were mugging him, outside the Royal Hotel? They took a watch..."

"Sorry," the woman scoffed. "But there are people down here who need a lot more help than someone looking for a missing Timex." She turned to leave again.

"It's more than just the watch!" Clark called after her, surprised by the sudden hardness in his tone. "Those guys they... they could have killed him."

The woman looked at him curiously.

"It scares you, doesn't it? That there are people out there who could take away the ones you love in an instant and just walk away, not even caring?"

Clark held her gaze and nodded, not daring to speak, too overcome by the sudden fear and anger inside him. Yes. Yes it does. First Lana nearly dies, now Dad. Things like this shouldn't be allowed to happen, not when I can stop them.

"That's good," she said. "I never realised how afraid I should be until it was too late..." she looked off into the distance, into a different time. "My Mom and I were coming home from my gymnastics meet. These two guys mugged us..." She closed her eyes for a moment, holding back tears perhaps. Clark could sense she hadn't told this to many people. "I didn't even feel the knife go into my heart. When I looked up, I saw her lying there." She shook her head. "And they walked away, laughing."

"Is that why you do this?" Clark asked gently.

The woman looked back to him, eyes shining.

"She dedicated her life to this group, Acrata," she explained, voice proud and hard and pained all at once. "They fought the gangs, the dealers, even the suits who wanted to tear down our homes." She smiled, just for a second. "She was this... little woman. But she was a bad-ass,"

"It's not fair," Clark said, thinking of all the good Jonathan had done for him, was going to do for others - how agonising it would be if he hadn't survived yesterday. "It's not fair to have someone like that just ripped out of your life."

The woman seemed to find something she'd been looking for in his expression because she moved closer, nodding.

"I can help you get the watch back," she said. "But that's not what you're really after is it? You want justice. Just like me."

Justice? Clark had told Lex he didn't want revenge, but he hadn't skipped college and forced Chloe into some lame play-acting just for a watch either. As long as those men are still out there they could hurt others, maybe even kill them next time. They should be stopped. Brought to justice. Yes.

"Can you tell me where I can find them?" Clark asked.

"They're part of the 13th Street Gang. But the guy you want's gone underground, and his gang's all packing nine mils. But I'm in, if you're in." She looked at him hopefully.

Clark hadn't even stopped to think about it; he'd followed his new superhuman companion, whose name it turned out was Andrea, straight into the 13th Street Gang's HQ. The members were indeed packing nine mils, and had been, predictably, unhelpful, but Andrea had been ready to take them all on anyway. Clark wasn't entirely sure he hadn't been willing to join her, but an easier solution presented itself when one of the members, an unpleasant looking Asian, used his cell to try and warn the very man Clark and Andrea were looking for - a guy called Snake. A quick burst of superspeed and the phone was Clark's.

Back at the Daily Planet now, Clark was reunited with Chloe and recounting the night's events. He handed her the phone. "So, can you trace the last number dialled on this?" he asked.

"No problem," Chloe shrugged, taking the phone and spinning her chair to face the computer. "Glad to see my 'go-to' status has been reinstated, I was beginning to think I'd been replaced by the leather-clad version," she muttered rather coldly - more than a little put out at being abandoned in the middle of Suicide Slums. Clark, still hyped from his encounter with the street gang didn't notice her tone.

Andrea, now costume and mask free, joined them in the office. She was wearing the same non-descript clothes she'd had on earlier, minus the glasses, but she was quite obviously not the mousy, unconfident girl she'd been then - Clark was impressed at the altered identity.

"Why the change?" he asked, figuring as soon as they'd got the relevant information they'd be leaving again and Andrea would probably want her street clothes for that.

"We don't know how long this is going to take," Andrea stated, moving to look over Chloe's shoulder. "And work like this gets done better if you're inconspicuous."

Chloe looked up, curious. Abandonment issues aside, she still harboured a fair amount of admiration for her Angel.

"That's why you work here," she said. "Because nothing happens in Metropolis without going through the Daily Planet. All you'd need to do is hang out quietly in the background and you'd get all the information on the city you wanted."

"Way to put the pieces together, Brenda Starr," Andrea said, not without approval.

A new page opened on Chloe's computer and the reporter looked at it with a frown.

"Well, almost all the information," she amended with a sigh. Clark moved to her other side to see what the problem was. "Unless your friend Snake's real name is Beatrice Krauss," Chloe continued. "I'm guessing he's using a stolen phone."

"Here," Andrea moved Chloe out of the way and started tapping something on the keyboard. "Let's try pulling up his outgoing calls..."

After a few minutes, a list of calls came up on screen, most of them related to porn.

"Huh, seems he's a fan of Fantasy Phone," Chloe muttered.

"And take away pizza!" Clark said, mind buzzing with a sudden idea. Whipping out his own cell he quickly dialled the pizza place on the screen, being sure to withhold his number. "Yes, I'd like to order a pizza to be delivered please," he said quickly, as soon as they'd answered. "My number is 555 0138," he read. There was a short pause and then Clark smiled. "1436 Standson Street, yes, that's my address. Thank you." Clark hung up before the guy could even ask his order.

"Nice job," Andrea praised.

Chloe nodded in agreement and reached for the phone on her desk. "Time to call the police," she grinned.

"No!" Clark and Andrea yelled together.

Chloe frowned; her hand paused on the receiver.

"Um, ooohhhkay, why not?" she asked, eyeing them both wearily. When Andrea failed to respond Chloe focused on Clark.

"It's just..." Clark tried to explain, but he didn't really understand himself. Somehow, over the course of the day, the search for this guy had become personal; it was no longer something he could simply leave to the police. "Well, what are they going to do Chloe? They won't be able to link the guy to my father's attack, he'll just walk away."

Chloe looked at Clark uneasily and when she spoke, it was in the tone generally reserved for spooked horses.

"You don't know that Clark. And besides, what is it you think you can do that the police can't?"

Clark caught Andrea's eye and remembered what she'd told him about her mother. He remembered too what Lex had said about sacrificing some lives to save many.

"Stop him before he can hurt anyone else maybe," Clark said evenly. Chloe looked shocked.

"Clark, what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked in disbelief.

"Chloe," Clark said, frighteningly serious. "People like Snake get away with murder everyday, if I can't stop lowlifes like him, then what's the point in having powers?" And with the line between good and evil as blurred as it is, why shouldn't I use mine more aggressively?

"Clark, I don't-" Chloe tried, but Clark, looking up at Andrea, cut her off.

"I'll meet you there?" he asked. She nodded once, and Clark was gone. Andrea smiled, her eyes dark.

Over at the LuthorCorp building Lionel was heading up in an elevator to the office he was having refurbished in preparation for his take over. When he stepped out, it was to find Lex in front of the office door waiting for him, making Lionel smile and shake his head.

"I see you've already moved in," Lex stated, nonplussed. "Don't you think that's a little premature Dad, I mean the board doesn't meet until the morning."

"I value efficiency Lex, you know that," Lionel quipped with a smile, while Lex's mouth curved dryly in response. Lionel narrowed his eyes, weary of his son's confidence. "You left the company vulnerable, Lex, if I hadn't stepped in to take it someone else would have." Lionel swiped a card over the security lock and the doors to the office opened, both men stepped inside.

"Then, I suppose I should be thanking you," Lex said, tone indicating he felt nothing of the kind.

"Exactly," Lionel muttered, examining a few boxes on the desk by the window. "What good is family if they don't watch out for each other?"

Lex blinked behind his father's back a little sadly, wishing he could take the older man's comment at face value. But the Luthors weren't that kind of family. Lex sat down on a near by sofa, hands on knees, and put his game face back on.

"On the off chance that unshakable family loyalty fails," he said matter-of-factly. "There's always those Luthor closets to rummage through."

Lionel shook his head with an unimpressed sigh.

"Alright, let's skip the prologue, Lex," he said turning round. "What ancient skeleton do you think you've dug up this time?"

Lex stared back at him with confidence.

"Well," he said with a shrug. "It's not actually a skeleton. Not even deceased, in fact, which is rather remiss of you considering murder isn't something you've balked at before."

Lionel chuckled at mention of his past misdeeds, tapping his security card casually against his lips as he waited for Lex to continue. Lex stood up, equally casually, and moved towards his father - knowing not to let the other man keep the upper hand by standing above him.

"You've been getting noticeably, close, to Martha Kent lately. Haven't you, Dad?" Lex said rhetorically as he moved closer. Lionel ceased his tapping, suddenly more serious. "I wonder how she would feel, if she knew you had a secret meeting with her husband around the same time of his attack yesterday. An attack you walked away from unscathed, while Jonathan almost died. I imagine it wouldn't give her a particularly favourable impression of you." Lex, now inches from Lionel's face, meet his eyes challengingly. The tactic was underhand, no question, but that hardly mattered when you were a Luthor, and Lex had seen his father with Martha enough to know a personal attack like this would really hit home.

"What do you want, Lex?" Lionel asked finally, radiating defeat. Lex's mouth flickered in a small half smile. Slowly he reached out and took the security card from his father's hand.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay," Lex said softly, before turning to leave. As he reached the doorway he turned back for an instant, adding in mock apology "Sorry it was so short."

Lex walked in even strides down the corridor outside, tapping the security card against his right palm. This might have been a victory, but he didn't feel victorious. For one thing, as helpful as it had been for leverage, his father and Jonathan Kent's secret meeting was troubling him. What was it about? Aside from the genuine respect Lex had for Jonathan, which made Lex loath to see him mixed up with Lionel, Lex knew if anyone wanted to know the truth about Clark more than he himself had, it was his father, and that Lionel wouldn't be beyond hurting Jonathan to find out. He also knew that if his father ever did find out about Clark, it was unlikely to be good for the Kent family. Lex recalled his father's previous, unethical experiments on the meteor rocks and shuddered at the thought of Clark strapped down in a lab somewhere at Lionel's mercy. No, now Clark had trusted Lex with the truth Lex knew he had to protect his friend at all costs.

His phone rang as he stepped into the elevator and Lex pressed the button for the ground floor, making sure the elevator doors were closed before he answered.

"Have you found him?" Lex asked immediately. He nodded in satisfaction at the reply. "Where...? Good. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."

Down at Standson Street, Clark found Snake smoking outside. In no mood for games, he pushed the thug roughly against the wire fence next to him.

"You attacked my Dad yesterday, left him to die," Clark hissed. "How much more blood do you have on your hands?"

Snake's surprise lasted only an instant, his shock turning quickly to anger. "Hey, get the hell off me!" He tried to push Clark away, but the alien held him firmly by the shoulders.

"No," Clark said coldly. "You're going to pay for what you've done. But first, you took a watch from my Dad yesterday, I want it back, where is it?"

"I dunno what the hell you're talking about man," Snake muttered, playing for time while he reached in his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Flicking it open he made to stab Clark in the side, but Clark grabbed Snake's wrist, stopping him.

Carried away with the ease of exerting his power, Clark gripped Snake around the neck with his left hand. Not enough to draw blood, just so he was gasping for breath.

"I said, where is it!" Clark yelled, squeezing briefly tighter.

"I... I don't have it," Snake gasped in panic. "I sold it."

Clark frowned. After all he'd been through today, he'd reached a dead end. He looked at the man in his grasp uncertainly. I could stop you, he thought. Save others from you. It wouldn't take much, just a flick of my hand. Hardly anything. But he hesitated.

Behind him, Andrea swooped in. It had taken her a few minutes to get back into costume but after that the ability to jump from building to building meant she'd made short work of the trip here.

"What are you waiting for?" she yelled at Clark. "He deserves to die!"

Hearing her, Clark's hand tightened again. But then he caught the look of fear in the man's eyes - fear that mirrored the look Lex had given him when he'd learned what Clark really was. And suddenly it was Lex Clark was choking, the older man's eyes wide, not just with fear, but sorrow and betrayal, like when Clark had attacked him a few months ago, high on silver kryptonite. Clark had thought Lex deserved to die then, but he'd been wrong. Perhaps he was equally wrong now. What gave him the right to decide who should die anyway? :: Is that really how you see me... like some kind of conqueror? ::

Clark pulled his hand away quickly, breathing heavily and backing away as Snake fell to the floor. No! I'm not like the others. I'm not. This isn't right.

Andrea moved up beside him, frowning in disappointment. "If you won't kill him I will," she stated.

"No, don't," Clark tried to explain. We were wrong. This isn't about justice, it's about us, we're trying to re-shape the world to fit our emotions. But before he could finish Andrea opened the locket round her neck and Clark felt himself weaken as the kryptonite radiation washed over him. She tied it quickly round his neck before he could move away.

"I'm sorry, Clark," she muttered, sounding sincere. "But I have to do this."

Clark moaned weakly, unable to speak. The first rush of exposure was always the worst.

Andrea turned to Snake, who was still on the ground rubbing his neck gingerly. Beside him was the switchblade he'd tried to stab Clark with earlier, knocked to the floor when Clark had grabbed the thug's wrist. With lightening reflexes Andrea rushed over and grabbed it before Snake could even move and she pointed it at him threateningly, forcing him up against the fence. Both Snake and Clark watched with growing anxiety as Andrea very deliberately removed her mask.

"You," Snake said in surprise.

From his position on the floor Clark frowned. He knows her?

Andrea pushed Snake back against the fence, holding the blade against his neck.

"Is this is knife you used to kill my mother?" she hissed.

Clark's eyes widened in shocked understanding. So that's what this has been about. Just a personal vendetta.

"No!" he yelled, mustering as much strength as he could. "He's not worth it!"

"You didn't have to kill her, she gave you all the money she had!" Andrea continued venomously.

"It wasn't about the money! I, I was told to make it look like a mugging," Snake stammered, desperate now. Andrea frowned.

"It was a hit?" she asked quickly. "Who? Who hired you?"

"They wanted your mom out of the way." Snake swallowed, he'd had about as much superhuman stress as he could take. Andrea pushed him harder against the fence, making it shake. "It was the suits, those Apex suits that are tearing down the slums!"

"I want a name," Andrea insisted.

"All I know is the guy I work for got a call from Lionel Luthor," Snake admitted breathlessly. Andrea narrowed her eyes for a moment, suspicious, but seemed to conclude he was telling the truth. She paused, still holding the knife to his neck.

"Andrea," Clark pleaded. "Don't."

After a brief look at Clark she slowly stepped away, and for a moment Clark honestly thought she was going to stop - as did Snake, who gave a slightly hysterical chuckle. Then suddenly Andrea turned back to him, and with a yell of rage and pain, stabbed him deeply in the chest.

"No!" Clark yelled, watching aghast as Snake convulsed, blood flowing in sickening streams from his chest and trickling from his mouth. After what felt like an age to Clark, the thug slipped lifelessly to the floor, knife still lodged deeply inside him. Andrea gave Clark one last, pain-filled look before jumping away, now truly an Angel of Vengeance.

Clark was trying desperately to fight the pain enough to close the locket, when he heard movement in the alley beyond Snake's body.

"Snake?" a voice called, and the Asian Clark had swiped the phone from came into view. "Snake?" he repeated, in surprise this time as he noticed his former partner's bloodied body. Hurrying over he registered Clark with a frown. Bending down he checked Snake's pulse. Once he'd determined the other man really was dead, the Asian pulled the knife from Snake's chest.

"You're a dead man..." he said, advancing on Clark.

Clark's breath turned shallow as he watched, hand still grasping vainly at the locket. The kryptonite was small, but more than enough to make his skin vulnerable to attack. For all Clark knew, that knife really could kill him now.

A small 'click' from the direction of the alley made the thug pause.

"Drop it," said a cool voice. Lex.

The Asian turned to look, completely dumbfounded, at the figure behind him, calmly focusing a gun in his direction. The flapping of his black coat only emphasised the complete stillness Lex held himself in and Clark couldn't blame the gangster for being surprised - he hadn't heard Lex arrive either. But then his senses were slightly impaired at the moment.

"I said, drop it," Lex frowned, not moving.

The thug held up his hands and made a big show of slowly putting the knife on the ground and crouching there, hands behind his head. Lex advanced on him slowly, keeping the gun aimed at the guy's head, but as he got closer Lex made the mistake of flicking his eyes briefly onto Clark and the Asian made his move. Grabbing the knife back with his left hand he rushed at Lex, gripping the arm holding the gun with his right. The weapon went off uselessly, and while Lex struggled for control the Asian slashed violently at the millionaire's wrist. It was a superficial wound, but painful enough to make Lex cry out and drop the weapon. Before the thug could reach for it, though, a couple more shots rang out over their heads and the two security men Lex was with earlier came rushing up behind him. Panicked, the Asian turned and ran. The security men stopped next to Lex uncertainly. Lex turned to scowl at them.

"You're late," he muttered, rubbing his left wrist. "Forget about me and get after him." They nodded, and ran off in pursuit.

Once they were gone Lex knelt down hurriedly next to Clark, face clouded with concern.

"Clark, what's wrong?" he asked quickly, reaching a hand towards the other man's shoulder then pausing, not wanting to cause Clark more pain than he was obviously already in.

"It's... the necklace," Clark winced.

Lex grabbed the chain and pulled it off, making Clark hiss at the unfamiliar sensation of friction round his neck. Feeling instantly better, Clark sat up, but couldn't get too far because the locket was still open, with Lex examining it.

"Is this meteor rock?" the older man asked, intrigued.

Clark nodded, though Lex wasn't actually looking to see.

"Kryptonite," Clark explained, realising it was one of many things Lex still didn't know about. I wonder why he hasn't asked me anything yet? But him and Lex weren't the main issue right now, Clark had to find Andrea. "It's one of the only things that can hurt me," Clark said, still wincing slightly.

Lex looked up at that and, realising his friend was still sickly, shut the locket with a hurried snap. Clark sighed in relief, looking visibly better, and Lex recalled a similar recovery in a cornfield, where another meteor rock necklace had played a pivotal role. A series of long-running confusions suddenly made sense. Kryptonite... got it.

"Come on," Lex said, slipping the now harmless item into his pocket and holding out a hand. Clark grabbed it and they both helped each other up. "Clark, what-" the older man started, but Clark grabbed his shoulders, stopping him.

"Lex, there isn't time," he said urgently. Andrea had a head start on him, she would have found out where Lionel Luthor was by now. "I need to find your father, where is he?"

"I just left him in the LuthorCorp building," Lex replied. "But Clark, what's my father got to do with this?"

"I'll explain later. I promise," Clark answered, and Lex was just able to register the earnestness in the other man's eyes before he was looking at empty space, the only indication of Clark's presence a fading warmth on his shoulders.

Lex blinked and looked round in surprise. And a little in awe. He knew about the speed of course, he'd seen the others do it, and there was also Clark's infamous appearance at Lana's accident, but having Clark willingly use his powers in front of him was like seeing them again for the first time.

Lex was still recovering from the experience when his two security guards returned.

"Sorry, we lost him," one of them informed him.

"Nevermind," Lex told them - unusually lenient as the feel of Clark's hands on his shoulders continued to linger. A glance at the dead body and his happiness vanished. What the fuck happened here? "Clean this up," he told the men. "If you find the watch, keep it safe."

The security team of two nodded with their usual efficiency, while Lex headed back to his car for his third trip to LuthorCorp that day.

Lex pulled up outside the LuthorCorp entrance just in time to see his father being held precariously by the neck by a black haired woman in mask out of the, now broken, window to the office Lex had left him in, eight stories up. Stepping out of the car, Lex watched in macabre fascination as the masked woman let go of Lionel, jumping with inhuman ability out of the window and into the night. Before his father could fall, however, Clark had suddenly appeared, grabbing Lionel's shirt and pulling him back up. The suddenness of Clark's appearance suggested he'd been moving faster than humanly possible at the time and Lex hoped his dad hadn't noticed. Okay, so what the hell was that? He leaned back against his car and waited for Clark to emerge.

A few minutes later Clark did just that. He looked surprised but far from unhappy to see Lex waiting for him. "Lex!" he called, hurrying over to him. "How did you get here so fast?"

Lex smiled at that.

"You have seen how I drive?" Clark grinned at the joke, but the dullness in his eyes showed his mind was elsewhere. Lex became serious. "Clark, what the hell's been going on? What happened back at Standson Street, and who was that woman I just saw trying to murder my father?"

Clark gave Lex a look that seemed to want to be sympathy, but couldn't quite make it.

"You saw that?" Clark said. "Um... don't worry, your dad's fine, just a little shaken. I left him in the office muttering something about needing to pack..."

Lex shook his head impatiently.

"Of course my father's fine, Clark," he stated. "I'm starting to think there's nothing he can't survive. I want to know how you fit in to everything. There's a dead body down in the slums that still needs an explanation."

Clark looked upset.

"Should we call someone?" he asked, uncertain.

Lex shook his head calmly.

"Don't worry, it's being taken care of." Clark nodded and the older man's expression softened as he sensed his friend's dejection. "Clark, you could have died earlier," he said softly - supposing it was telling that he was more concerned about the safety of a practically indestructible alien, than that of his father. "I just want to know what's been going on."

Clark searched Lex's face and found only concern. He sighed, shoulders sagging.

"Her name's Andrea," he started to explain. "She's kryptonite infected and she's been using her power to fight crime down in the slums. She was helping me find Dad's watch, but... I dunno," Clark shrugged, moving to lean against the car next to Lex. Staring straight ahead he continued. "At some point tonight I sort of lost sight of that." He looked down, not exactly ashamed, just rather lost.

Lex watched him curiously. Clark had been through a lot since Lex had known him, more than Lex suspected the other man was aware of, and Lex had seen him grow from innocent farmboy to troubled youth, but one thing had always been constant - Clark had always been sure of himself. Not in the way he looked or dressed, confident of his body like Lex was, but sure of his beliefs, sure of his feelings, sure of his love for Lana, sure of what was right. Seeing Clark so clearly uncertain both pained Lex and gave him hope. He'd once looked to Clark as his moral compass, but had recently come to despair his unavoidably grey coloured world would never be able to mix with Clark's black and white one. But now Clark and him knew the truth about each other everything was changing, Clark was changing, and maybe, just maybe, there was room for overlap between their worlds after all.

"And this Andrea, she led you to the guy who mugged your father, the one at Standson Street?" Lex queried, wondering how his friend's story was going to continue, because the fact of the matter was, that man was dead now.

Clark nodded at the question.

"He also killed Andrea's mother," he stated, then took a breath. "I told you I wasn't after revenge," he began, a little hesitantly. "And I meant that. But working with Andrea I felt... something else. She called it justice, but I don't think that was it." He turned to look at Lex, somewhat pleading. "Lex, I had that guy by the throat. I could've killed him. I... I wanted to."

Lex's gaze wasn't judgemental, but understanding, and Clark was grateful for that.

"But you didn't," Lex said simply, with perhaps a little admiration. Clark shook his head.

"No. It was Andrea who... she'd found out about the kryptonite, and I... I couldn't stop her." It hadn't been his fault, but Clark looked guilty anyway.

"What stopped you Clark?" Lex asked, voice low, almost in wonder.

Clark looked at him with an oddly intense but unreadable expression. You, he thought.

"I..." he floundered for a moment, then managed to focus. "I realised that real justice isn't about punishing people," he answered seriously. "It's about saving them." If there was one thing Jonathan Kent had taught him well, it was how to develop a good platitude. "And sometimes," he continued. "The people we think should be punished, might be the ones who need saving the most."

There was a pause that Lex failed to fill, because Clark never had been famous for his subtlety. Fuck, he means me. Lex didn't know what affected him the most - that Clark no longer held him in disregard, or that Clark thought he needed saving. The latter was something Lex had often thought himself, a result of Lionel's constant classical analogies perhaps; it had always seemed to Lex he was fighting a losing battle with destiny. Cassandra's untimely death while supposedly witnessing his future had done little to dispel this opinion and now Clark, number one supporter of the 'we always have a choice' association, was cottoning on too? Did that mean there really was no hope for Lex, or the exact opposite?

Fortunately, Clark seemed to realise he'd hit a nerve, and continued before Lex could get too fatalistic.

"I mean, that guy back in the slums," Clark said hurriedly, as if this hadn't been about Lex at all. "He wasn't even properly behind the murder of Andrea's mother, he was just a pawn in a bigger game. Who knows what he could have been given a chance in a different setting."

Lex gave a small nod as the final missing piece clicked into place.

"A bigger game? As in, one conducted by my father perhaps?" It was rather amusing to think the man who had mugged Lionel along with Jonathan might actually, somewhere down the murky chain of connections, have been one of Lionel's lackeys.

Clark paused, then shrugged.

"I don't know. It was a company called, Apex, I think, who Andrea's mum was fighting against. That guy, Snake, told Andrea your father was working with them to tear down the slums, but there's no proof."

"No, of course not," Lex muttered, though it was more than enough confirmation for him. He supposed it was vaguely comforting to know his dad still possessed his murderous streak, it was at least consistent. It made the situation with Jonathan Kent all the more troubling though. "I'm impressed your morality is strong enough to include my father, Clark. I'm sure there are plenty of people in this city who've decided he was beyond redemption long ago, they would have considered it a favour to humanity to let him fall from that window."

Clark didn't smile, because he knew Lex wasn't joking.

"I can't say I didn't think about it," he admitted quietly. "But it's not our responsibility to decide who's worth saving or not."

Lex tilted his head back and regarded Clark for a moment, tapping a finger lightly against the body of the car, debating whether to say something or not.

"Then whose is it, Clark?" he said eventually, not criticising, simply curious.

Clark looked surprised, then frowned as he thought about it.

"Ah... I dunno," he shook his head. "Maybe no-one. Maybe it depends... I guess sometimes there just isn't a right answer." Brow still furrowed, he gave a half smile and single laugh. "That sucks."

The statement was so absurdly simple, yet entirely true, and Clark looked so comically put out by it, that Lex laughed.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, it does." Clark gave him a lopsided smile, and for a while he wasn't an alien with a destiny already laid out for him, and Lex wasn't a multi-millionaire businessman dealing in superhuman experimentation on the side. They were just two men, trying to understand the nature of life together.

"So, what do you think, Lex?" Clark asked after a while, realising suddenly that while he'd often lectured Lex on his opinions, he'd never actually, straight out, asked the other man about his view of the world, relying instead on inferences from the multitude of classical or historical allusions Lex was always making. But stories like that were told to present specific ideas; Lex didn't necessarily believe them himself.

Lex looked at Clark with a perplexed smile. Life just continued getting stranger. The last thing he'd expected today was a discussion on morality with Clark Kent. At another time it might be interesting, but Lex didn't bare his soul easily, or spontaneously, and this was not the time or the place.

"I think, you faced some difficult decisions today, and acted admirably," he hedged.

Clark, still smiling, gave the older man a curious sideways glance, acknowledging the evasion. Lex had taken Clark's recent admission of near murder without batting an eyelid, but now he was faced with the issue of what was right and wrong he was avoiding it. Clark wondered if it was because Lex feared Clark's reaction, or if he was just afraid to voice an opinion.

Worried by Clark's unusually knowing look that the alien might be discovering his insecurities, Lex distracted him by continuing.

"I also think my father's a very lucky man. That's twice he's been saved now by someone concerned that they might be wrong to do so." Lex paused, losing the odd frivolity that had developed as he remembered what a real threat his father could be - and Clark, in his red zip-up jacket and rough plaid shirt, suddenly seemed completely lost and out of place compared to the smooth, sophisticated glass of the LuthorCorp building and Lex's own immaculate designer clothes.

Clark might be physically powerful, but that wouldn't necessarily be enough to protect him from Lionel's trickery - and hadn't Lex learned just today that his friend had a very real, very serious, physical weakness? If one small, locket-sized stone was enough to incapacitate him, Lex didn't want to think about the lengths Lionel might go to if he ever found out. The desire to protect Clark Lex had felt earlier resurfaced painfully.

"You should to be careful of my father, Clark," he warned without thinking. "He's one of the other reasons 33.1 is such a closely guarded secret. If he knew about it, I know he'd find some way to get involved, some way I might not be able to prevent, and I don't think he'd be so lenient about the experimentation on the inhabitants. Or on any... other specimens, he might happen across."

Clark blinked at the sudden change of topic and the tension, not just in Lex's voice, but his whole body. He's really worried about this, Clark thought, touched. He nodded seriously.

"I understand. Thanks."

And since they were on the topic of dangers to Clark...

"And what about this Andrea?" Lex continued. "She knows how to hurt you, she's already killed one man, and attempted to kill another. Could she be a threat, should I have my men track her down?"

Clark shook his head.

"No. If she'd wanted to properly hurt me she could have done a lot worse. Besides, I don't think we'll be seeing her around here again after tonight." His eyes dulled.

Lex nodded - but made a mental note to have some people look for her anyway, just in case. In one of the LuthorCorp offices a light switch went out, reminding Lex that his father would be leaving the building soon, and that was a confrontation he'd rather avoid.

"It's late," he said to Clark. "Need a ride home?"

Clark's eyes lightened again as he considered the question and he started to grin, bringing back some of the previous light-heartedness.

"Actually, not really,"

Lex blanked at the apparent rejection, before realising what Clark meant. His lips curved in a side smile and he inclined his head in an 'oh of course' gesture.

"I'll take it anyway though," Clark added.

The next morning, Clark and Martha were escorting a grumpy Jonathan back home after his stay in Metropolis Hospital.

"I can walk to the front door perfectly well on my own you know," Jonathan grumbled to Martha, as she led him up the porch steps, her arm linked with his. Clark followed behind them, pretending to allow his father some space, but really watching closely, ready to superspeed over at the first sign of trouble. It was all he could do not to flick into x-ray every other minute to check on his Dad's heart.

"I know," Martha replied patiently. "But this isn't for your benefit, it's for mine. I might not let you out of my reach ever again."

"I dunno, Mom," Clark quipped behind them. "That might get a little embarrassing,"

Martha rolled her eyes.

They were just about to open the front door, when it apparently opened of its own accord.

"Hi!" said a cheery voice, and the three of them looked up in surprise to find themselves greeted by a smiling Lana.

"Lana," Clark smiled. "Um, how did you get in?"

Moving aside to let them passed, Lana held up a set of keys with her free hand.

"I came to bring your spare keys back. When I found you weren't in I figured you'd gone to pick up Mr... Jonathan," she looked sheepishly at the man in question, but he smiled back in encouragement. "I thought I'd stay and wait for you to come back, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course we don't mind, Lana," Jonathan assured her. "You're always welcome here."

"Yes, of course Lana, dear," Martha smiled, before turning sternly back to her husband, who'd cleverly slipped out of her grasp as they entered the house. "Now Jonathan, couch, shoo!"

While Martha ushered a sighing Jonathan into the living room, Clark stopped to give Lana a peck on the cheek.

"What were you doing with Mom's spare keys?" he asked.

"Your Mom asked me if I could close the Talon for her last night so she could spend more time with Jonathan at the hospital. Didn't she tell you?" Lana looked surprised.

"Oh, ah..." Clark shrugged. "I was kinda busy yesterday, I didn't really see her all that much."

"Yeah, I tried to call you a couple of times, but couldn't get through. What were you doing?"

Clark noticed Lana's curiosity was a lot less intense than Lex's. He knew she really wanted to know, because he'd known her long enough to read her, but her small smile and light tone could almost imply she didn't care.

"I was... just out trying to track down Dad's watch," Clark replied truthfully. He might be a terrible liar, but he could usually employ half-truths pretty well and he didn't want to go into the business of Andrea with Lana just now. In fact, he suspected that when he did tell her, which he would have to sooner or later because Chloe was guaranteed to bring it up, he'd probably leave out a few things, like, for instance, how he'd almost become a murderer. Somehow, he didn't think Lana would understand. "I didn't find it," Clark finished, anticipating the follow up question.

Oddly, Lana just grinned at that. She took his hand. "Come on."

She led him into the living room where Jonathan and Martha were sitting together on the sofa looking over something in obvious delight. Martha looked up when they came in and broke into a beaming smile.

"Lana! How did you do it?" she asked in wonder.

Clark looked between the two women in obvious confusion before his Dad held up what he and Martha had been looking at and made everything clear.

"Look son, it's my watch. Can you believe it?" He gave a happy laugh.

Clark was gobsmacked. He turned to the woman beside him in disbelief.

"Lana..." he breathed.

Lana chuckled. "Your face, just priceless." She wrinkled her nose in delight.

"But how?" he asked. Surely Lana hadn't been involved with the lowlifes of Metropolis yesterday as well?

"I spent the day looking through every pawn shop in Metropolis," Lana explained. "This arm actually came in pretty useful," she added, holding up her right arm as much as the cast would allow. "People are a lot more willing to help out a girl when she looks hurt and vulnerable it seems."

"And being as pretty as you are certainly helps as well," Jonathan said, making Lana blush. "But Lana, you shouldn't have gone to the trouble."

"Really, Jonathan, it was no trouble," Lana assured him. "Since all that time in hospital I'll take any excuse to spend some time outside. This way I was able to help someone at the same time."

"Well, thank you, Lana," Jonathan said seriously. "This really means a lot."

Lana nodded.

"You're welcome."

"Well," Martha said happily. "This calls for a bit of a celebration. I'll go see what's in the kitchen."

As Martha left in search of celebratory snacks, Clark moved to the side of the couch and stood next to his Dad, bending down a little to examine the watch himself. Jonathan looked up at his son affectionately. He took Clark's hand and put the watch into it.

"You know what? I think it's time this was yours, Clark," he said. Clark looked touched, but also rather shocked.

"No Dad, I couldn't..." he shook his head, trying to give it back. But Jonathan wrapped Clark's fingers around the timepiece.

"Yes you can, son," he insisted. "My grandfather gave this watch to my father, my father gave it to me, and now I'm giving it to you. It's a Kent family tradition. And clearly I can't look after it anymore. Between you and Lana I think you'll be able to keep it safe for another generation."

Clark looked from his Dad to Lana, both of them smiling at him proudly. He gave them a small smile back, and wondered, as he held up the watch, following the second hand as it ticked its way slowly but inevitably round the face, why he didn't feel happier.

Later, after a pleasant celebratory spread of milk, cookies and home-made apple pie, Clark dropped off Lana at her dorm to continue catching up on the work she'd missed while in hospital, and paid another visit to the Daily Planet. As he'd theorised to Lex the night before, it seemed Andrea was gone. The desk she'd occupied had been stripped bare. Clark was just looking over it, normally and in X-Ray, when Chloe appeared next to him.

"Hey," she said, looking a little sad. "I found her desk like this when I got in this morning. I called her home, her cell..." Chloe shrugged. "Looks like she pulled an Amelia Earhart."

Clark sighed. He'd half hoped Andrea would have stuck around. It'd been nice having someone else with powers to talk to again. His parents and Chloe had always been great, and he knew Lana would be equally supportive, but none of them could really understand what it was like for Clark having the abilities he did. The feeling of freakish abnormality, the constant fear of accidentally hurting others, the worry that the power might become too overwhelming, that he might abuse it. The only other person who'd seemed to understand all that was Alicia... Well, and maybe Lex.

"She'll never let anyone find her now," he told Chloe, running his fingers glumly along the bare wooden surface.

"Yeah, well I guess exile's the price you have to pay when you play judge, jury and executioner," Chloe responded. "There was a report today of a death in Standson Street last night."

She sounded bitter. Felt her heroine had let her down, Clark supposed, not knowing whether to feel flattered or ashamed that Chloe hadn't even considered the possibility he'd been involved in the murder.

Catching his frown, Chloe turned to lean against the desk, facing Clark.

"What really happened down there last night?" she questioned.

Clark sighed. He supposed now was as good a time as any to present a tailored story for the girls.

"The guy we were looking for, Snake, it turned out he killed Andrea's mom," Clark explained, not looking at Chloe. "That's why she was so keen to help out. I tried to stop her, but..."

Chloe nodded in understanding.

"But there's nothing like a thirst for revenge to push you over the edge," she finished helpfully. "It's a shame. Metropolis could really use someone like her right now."

Clark thought about that.

"Not just Metropolis..." he said slowly. "The whole world could use people like that."

Chloe looked at him curiously, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"What about you Clark? Do you think you could do what she did?" she asked, making Clark turn to her sharply. "You know, play the mild-mannered reporter by day and a crime fighter by night?"

The young Kryptonian's face relaxed a little. Oh that. He remembered Andrea's mask and shook his head, he had enough trouble controlling himself as himself, donning a costume that hid your face just seemed like a fancy way of trying to hide.

"Honestly," he told Chloe. "I'm kind of hoping to find way not to hide who I really am. Besides, I don't think I could do something like that alone." But then, maybe I wouldn't have to.

Clark heard Chloe start saying something about him not being alone, but his mind was already elsewhere. Muttering an excuse he hurried away, gearing up into superspeed as soon as it was safe and zipping back to Smallville.

*****

Sitting in his office come living room at the mansion, Lex was much more at ease today than yesterday - something his cool blue, silk shirt seemed to reflect. He typed some figures into the spreadsheet he was working on half-heartedly, and then gave up. Getting up he walked over to the side bar and poured himself a small scotch, figuring he could finish the work tomorrow. He was just wondering how much his good mood owed to the successful thwarting of Apex's takeover bid and how much to his interaction with Clark, when he felt a slight breeze against his back.

"Lex,"

This time when Lex turned to see Clark in the room again he smiled automatically, cursing himself inwardly for it. Did he really think they'd gone back to how it was two years ago when Clark used to drop by just to hang out? But then again, Clark hadn't just dropped by today, by the feel of it he'd sped in, right past security, which explained a lot now he came to think of it, and reminded Lex things most certainly weren't like they had been two years ago, they were shaping up to possibly be better. Except, damn, he might have to do some video surveillance editing later. He'd have to talk to Clark about that.

"Clark," he greeted warmly. "It's good to see you." A true but technically unnecessary statement, Lex was practically gushing. To get a hold of himself he returned to more practical matters. "I never did manage to find your Dad's watch, I'm sorry."

Clark took a breath, and then paused, as though what he'd been about to say didn't quite fit the moment.

"Oh," he blinked, taking in what Lex had actually said. "No, that's okay. Actually, we sort of got it back anyway." He held up his left wrist, now the proud bearer of said watch, as evidence.

Lex raised his eyebrows.

"Huh," he said, sounding just a tad affronted. "How'd you find it?"

"Lana spent the day looking through pawn shops, if you can believe it," Clark shrugged.

"Wow," Lex said. I put a security team on the job trekking through dangerous city streets, and a girl from Kansas finds it by going shopping... Fine. "That's some girl you've got, Clark," Lex complimented, not sounding quite as impressed as perhaps he should have done. Fortunately Clark seemed too preoccupied to notice.

"Yeah," he agreed distractedly. "That's not why I came to see you though."

"Ah," Lex nodded, slipping into a game face. A single-minded Clark hardly ever boded well.

"It's about 33.1," the younger man said quickly.

Lex's heart fell, although his face remained impassive. It seemed he'd be getting that aggressive demand to stop his evil project after all, and just when he'd started to hope he and Clark could actually come to terms. Lionel was always berating him for putting too much stock in hope.

"I want to work on it with you," Clark finished.

Utter silence followed.

During it, the two men regarded each other closely, Clark focusing on Lex with steely determination, while Lex, expression unchanged, searched Clark's face intently with his eyes.

Slowly, Lex nodded, his expression softening into what looked like relief.

"Sure."

——end credits——