FADE IN:

INT. METROPOLIS CLUB – NIGHT

Smokey, textured by glass and chrome that reflects and refracts brightly colored neon. LOUD is an understatement. The din of conversations contends with infectious beats (a few Gen Y'ers speaker dance). Overstuffed with too many too hip patrons – women in too tight clothing that covers too little, men looking too, too much like Abercrombie & Fitch model wannabes.

Chloe, Clark and Pete step through the entrance, their movements tentative. Of the three, Chloe's attire rates a possible "could blend" into the crowd, Pete's a "maybe," and Clark's, our sweet Clark, clad in a long-sleeved polo shirt, rates a "NFW." However, as a group, the trio appears mildly out of place, very much like Dorothy after the tornado whisked her into Munckinland.

CHLOE
(disbelieving; shouts above the music)
I don't think we're in Smallville anymore.

Pete catches the eye of a woman who's almost as tall as Clark. Or was "she" a "he"?

Pete tosses his head, nodding "hello." The "woman" returns the gesture with a coquettish smile.

PETE
(shouts; to Clark, watching the "woman" disappear into the crowd)
How'd you find out about this place?

CLARK
(shouts)
Lex.

CHLOE
(shouts)
Good ol' Lex.
(notices Pete has his eye on another impossibly tall woman – with an Adam's apple)
And what made Lex think we'd be interested in a night of debauchery? Because clearly that's what we're in for.

PETE
(turns to Chloe, shouts)
Chloe, I've known you since you came to town, and I'm only now commenting on this so understand it's probably way past time: have you always been wound tighter than a corkscrew? Or is this a recent development, linked to the onset of adolescence?
(shakes her good naturedly)
C'mon, girlfriend, let go,
(sings)
feel the rhythm of the niiii-haaa-iiite.

CLARK
Yeah, Chloe... Leggo...

Clark takes her hand in his and leads her to the dance floor.

Clark shakes his groove thang – and quite expertly – right in front of Chloe... Holy... Clark Kent – dancing machine? Slow dancing's one thing but this...

Chloe watches appreciatively before following suit.

Pete joins the fun before being distracted by another hottie. He stops, turns. This time, the "woman" in question may actually be a woman. In any event, at least this one's shorter.

CLARK
(shouts)
As for Lex, he said we should be able to get in. Sort of a lax ID policy at the door.

Pete cops this woman's number and returns his attention to his friends. He sees the look in Chloe's eyes.

PETE
(senses her internal struggle and rising discomfort; an admonishment)
Chloe…

Chloe knows the tone. She tries to find a comfort zone, hey, she's out, she's with friends, plenty of eye candy… And there's yumptious Clark Kent, backin' his motor up right toward her.

CHLOE
(Clark spins around)
Clark Kent, you are just FULL of surprises...

Nope. Nope. NOPE... Won't give in... Will so NOT give in... Chloe and Clark have only recently mended a fence – a few posts are still in need of repair. It's much too soon to forgive and much too much to forget. Too much much.

Chloe discovers an "exit" strategy to put the brakes on her softening anger. Kent "motor" (and "oy" what a fine motor it is) be damned. She focuses and determines every road really leads straight to "what the hell is this place and why am I here?" Fun? Meh.

Chloe stops dancing abruptly.

CHLOE
(shouts)
Do your parents know you're here?
(Clark slows down but doesn't stop dancing and avoids her gaze)
Clark Kent, you – I can't even said it.

Ok, now the evening has some promise. She can be amused and maintain the appropriate emotional distance.

Invigorated, Chloe starts dancing again.

PETE
(but he can say it; shouts)
You
(there's a break in the music; the verb hangs in the air as Pete's voice lingers)
lied.

All three stop simultaneously.

CLARK
(all reasoned out)
Not precisely.

PETE
What did you tell them?

CLARK
That I was going out with you and Chloe.

Clark start dancing again. As does Pete – with another hottie.
(Yes, "she" is a "she.")

CHLOE
And where precisely did you tell them you were going?

CLARK
I didn't.

Chloe grins broadly and starts dancing again.

CHLOE
Discovery of the loophole in the lie canon. Very impressive. I didn't know you had it in you.

CLARK
Thank you. I think. Lex also gave me a "heads up" about Sheridan.

Clark dances very close to Chloe. Chloe wants to give in, but she's still making him prove himself. Clark started the stupid argument. It's his own fault.

So why does she feel like she's suffering?

Chloe stops dancing. As does Clark.

CHLOE
Sheridan.

PETE
(dreamy; still dancing)
Sher-i-dan.
(eager)
She doesn't usually do shows in places like this.

CHLOE
(huh?)
Sheridan?

The music rises, then:

ANNOUNCER
And now, it's my pleasure to bring you – SHERIDAN!

CHLOE
No last name. Just "Sheridan."

PETE
Shhh!

CHLOE
What the heck is a "Sheridan"? Is it like a Madonna? Or –

PETE
As a matter of fact, if you had interest in anything other than persistent weirdness, you might know that yes, she is very much like Madonna… At least in terms of popularity and –

CHLOE
(throw me a rope - I'm drowning)
- maybe more like a Cher...?

CLARK
(not serious)
Shhh!

But Chloe's already been silenced. As has the rest of the crowd.

A silhouette, female, commanding has taken a spot on the stage just as Pete turns his attention back.

The lights go down. The music builds...

And the crowd goes wild as the lights come up on SHERIDAN.

Pete's jaw drops and Clark, well, let's just say Clark's (surprisingly) positively mesmerized. Chloe watches them both curiously, then feels the pull, turning her attention back to the stage...

Sheridan definitely not someone you ignore. She's adored - and knows it.

Sheridan pauses for dramatic effect, making eye contact with the crowd, milking the whistles and catcalls and applause before taking the mike, and, as she takes center stage, we discover she's very good at workin' what her mama gave her.

SHERIDAN
(sings)
Where have all the good men gone
and where are all the gods?
Where's the streetwise Hercules
to fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight
upon a fiery steed?
Late at knight I toss and I turn
and I dream of what I need –
(the crowd erupts, cheering)
I NEED A HERO!

Not that Clark isn't swept into the group frenzy, but he is who he is… He notices a tiny red dot smack in the middle of Sheridan's forehead.

Clark looks around the room, not sure but suspecting it's something like…a beam from a laser sight. Instant confirmation as he hears the squeeze of a trigger and the sound a bullet being discharged.

Clark doesn't stop to think about it. He moves fast, but not so fast as to cause problems later. He leaps onto the stage, twisting, grabbing Sheridan and knocking her to the ground just as –

- a bullet whizzes by, narrowly missing him and EXPLODING the speaker behind them. The ruined component projectiles mesh, wire, metal, fiberglass and plastic, raining fractured innards over everything – and everyone - in the immediate vicinity.

Then –

ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.

Patrons are suddenly everywhere, including the stage where Clark continues to huddle protectively atop the singer.

Security rushes the stage pitching stage divers back to the floor.

Chloe and Pete lunge for the nearest cover (a toppled table).

Chaos, uncontrolled and absolute, reigns. Glasses shatter. Bodies are hurled. Furniture splinters. Screams...

The violence, confusion and abandon builds to a crescendo, yielding to an eventual and grudging return to civility.

Security – both club and hired - clears the stage and takes note of Sheridan, her body almost completely obscured by Clark's. She peers out from under her rescuer and stays Security with a look.

SHERIDAN
(unfazed; to Clark)
Do I know you?

Embarrassed, Clark removes himself from the singer and gently helps her to her feet.

Clark turns his attention back to the balcony. Additional security staff and a pair of bodyguards are already there. The shooter's nowhere to be seen.

Clark scans the room. No luck. Whoever it was is long gone.

INT. DRESSING ROOM HALLWAY

Clark and Sheridan walk down the hall. Pete and Chloe are behind them, keeping a respectful distance. Sheridan opens the dressing room door, affording Clark entry as his friends are halted by security. Chloe and Pete raise their arms as they're swept by hand held metal detectors.

Chloe looks up in time to see Clark and Sheridan disappear behind the closed door of the dressing room beyond them, her face yielding a mix of unwanted though undeniable emotions.

INT. DRESSING ROOM

Cristal champagne chills in a silver bucket. Sheridan emerges in full diva mode – elegant in silk lounge ensemble that's sexy without being revealing as it rides along terrain that hints aptly of the woman beneath the wear. Someone else could easily look like a caricature or wannabe, but Sheridan wears the outfit like she was born in it.

Sheridan pours; Clark sits, fidgeting nervously in a corner chair. Though we know otherwise, in the presence of this pop phenomenon, Clark seems very small, very childlike.

This gives Sheridan pleasure.

SHERIDAN
Clark…
(as if on second thought but really just a tease)
How old are you?

CLARK
(coughs)
Twen-twenty one.

SHERIDAN
If you say it
(hands Clark glass; watches him intently)
it must be so.

He's a bold one, this Clark Kent. Bold in that teenage boy – you ain't fooling me – kind of way. As Sheridan pours herself a glass, her eyes linger. Clark realizes he has but one option. He decides against the truth, opting instead to take a sip.

Sixteen is not a good year for "suave." The champagne travels from the glass to Clark's lips, and continues – to his nose. He sputters, bobbling the glass. He's quickly wearing more champagne than he's drunk.

SHERIDAN
Oh my.

Clark looks meekly to Sheridan.

SHERIDAN
We can't have you sitting around in a near arctic clime in a wet shirt now can we?
(moves to help Clark remove polo shirt)
It's one of my quirks… Like the cold. At least, before a show.

CLARK
(struggles feebly against Sheridan)
Really it's not that big a –

Off comes the shirt. And ummmm.

Sheridan gets an eyeful of Clark. Bare chested.

More ummmm.

SHERIDAN
(surprised – and impressed)
Ooooh my…

Clark's still trying to get the shirt back. Sheridan playfully keeps it from him.

SHERIDAN
You're… embarrassed?
(Clark tries to cover himself; she giggles)
It's been a long time since I embarrassed a man… It feels… good…

I think the last time it happened… I was in… high school. So hero, how old are you – really?

There's an urgent KNOCK on the door before anyone can answer. Chloe and Pete burst into the room, Chloe reflexively shooting daggers at a beefy bodyguard as she enters.

Sheridan sizes the pair up, then:

SHERIDAN
(to bodyguard)
It's all right.

Sheridan watches as Chloe's attention turns almost instantly to the dressing room tableau – champagne, seductively clad woman, and one of her best friends… with his shirt on the floor… Sheridan suppresses a smirk, crosses to a closet. She selects a replacement, tosses it to Clark.

Clark catches the shirt, hastily buttoning it. It's lovely on him (could easily be one from Pinks of London). Sheridan looks on approvingly, noting Clark's continued shyness and the jealousy that flits across Chloe's features. Sheridan soaks it all in.

SHERIDAN
You two wouldn't happen to be -

CHLOE & CLARK
No. Not –

Clark and Chloe exchange a glance. Speaking in unison are we?

SHERIDAN
Hmmmmmm...

Sheridan retrieves Clark's shirt from the floor.

SHERIDAN
(regards shirt, then)
I'm so sorry. You'd think with all the glasses of champagne I've handled, I could avoid spilling things on people.
(looks to Chloe; shrugs)
Guess I'm just a klutz.

Chloe takes a moment to process the new information. Eventually, she jettisons "envy," in favor of impassive (though mildly confused) reporter mode.

CHLOE
Clark? Is there something we should know?

Pete, who's been excitedly scanning the area, can't contain himself any longer. He's like a shaken can of soda – and somebody just popped the top.

Pete introduces himself with all the vigor of a rabid fan – and then some.

PETE
(shaking Sheridan's hand too eagerly)
Ms…. Sheridan. Can I call you Sheridan? I just want to say I have every one of your cds. Even the limited edition Power cd… You are da bomb.
(how lame was that?)
But – I'm sure you hear that all the time.

SHERIDAN
(enigmatically)
Not exactly. In those words.

Pete hasn't heard a thing Sheridan's said. He's too busy basking in diva glow and making mental pictures for later.

CHLOE
(to Clark)
The police want to ask you a few questions.

CLARK
About?

CHLOE
Like how you knew –

CLARK
Chloe, I didn't "know". I just –

SHERIDAN
(to Chloe)
- found me irresistible at precisely the right moment.
(to Clark)
Good luck is a good thing to have. You can talk to the police tomorrow. Right now, would you mind walking me home? I feel like I owe you something.

CHLOE
(mutters)
Yeah…uh, your life.

SHERIDAN
(heard that - to Chloe's amazement)
True –

CHLOE
(gulp)
- Chloe.

SHERIDAN
I do owe young Mr. Kent my life.

Sheridan's manager, ARTIE appears. He regards the trio suspiciously then:

ARTIE
Sheridan, the limo's here.

SHERIDAN
Chloe and Pete are riding in the limo. It's a nice night. Clark and I are going to walk to the loft.

ARTIE
Do you really think that's advisable gi–

SHERIDAN
- Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see.
(to Clark)
Just give me a minute to change.

Sheridan exits, handing Chloe Clark's shirt on the way out.

SHERIDAN
Be a love and hold onto this, would you?

The limo driver enters. Chloe and Pete take the cue to leave, albeit hesitantly. Chloe lingers, looks to Clark who's completely engaged in Alpha Male behavior with Sheridan's manager. He doesn't notice her leave. And he doesn't notice her crestfallen face as she does so. Damn him.

Clark and Artie exchange glances. Artie clearly doesn't like Clark. Clark shifts under Artie's gaze. He tries not to give into his own rising hostility. He doesn't know the man, but... Suddenly, he thinks he may not like him very much.

ARTIE
Kent is it?

CLARK
(attempts to not give into reciprocal emotional response)
Clark. Clark Kent.

ARTIE
Well, Kent, you should know something about Sheridan.

CLARK
(self-control, detachment waning)
And what would that be?

ARTIE
She means everything to me. Don't get in the way of the professionals trying to be a hero. I got a small army of bodyguards looking out for her, and if I hear that something's landed where it shouldn't, I will personally hunt you down and –

Saved by the diva's reentry.

Sheridan recognizes the look.

SHERIDAN
Artie? You haven't misbehaved now, have you?

ARTIE
No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure Kent and I came to an understanding.
Did we?

CLARK
(utter failure of attempt; through virtually clenched teeth)
Couldn't be any clearer.

SHERIDAN
(mock shivers)
Oooo. I think the testosterone level in the room just peaked.
(takes Clark by the arm)
Goodnight, Artie.

INT. CLUB HALLWAY

Clark and Sheridan negotiate the security gauntlet and head toward the exit.

Just out of view, someone watches, unseen.

EXT. METROPOPOLIS CLUB

Sheridan walks but Clark stops short suddenly.

SHERIDAN
Wha—

Clark says nothing, just moves, shifting himself to walk on Sheridan's left and place himself by the curb. Sheridan smiles a little and looks to Clark for an explanation.

CLARK
My mother. She taught me to always walk on the side closest to the curb.

SHERIDAN
Raised to be a gentleman.

CLARK
Yeah. I guess.

SHERIDAN
Did she tell you why?

CLARK
(jokes)
I should be a gentleman?
(only half joking)
So if a car jumps the curb, I get hit and not whoever I'm with...

SHERIDAN
A very modern answer for someone so steeped in the notion of chivalry.
(Clark's look: me?)
Uh, yeah... History major here... Think horse and carriage. Cobble stones and mud.

CLARK
And other somewhat less pleasant –

SHERIDAN
- more... aromatic...things

Although, I suspect, being hit by a car would not be pleasant either.

Sheridan and Clark walk past a trio of STREET DUDES.

STREET DUDE #1
Hi, Beautiful.

SHERIDAN
(whispers to Clark)
Is he speaking to me or you?

Clark suppresses a smile. Sheridan does not. She flashes a Scarlet O'Hara coy-dainty grin.

STREET DUDE #1 (O.C.)
See that?
(voice fading as Clark and Sheridan continue down the street)
Beautiful...

Clark smiles a little, shakes his head.

SHERIDAN
What? I'm supposed to launch into a feminist diatribe
(Clark's amused look: Chloe would)
every time someone says something to me? I don't get to do this that often. Be out... Walking... He didn't even recognize me...

Look, it's easier all around if I smile and nod and keep steppin'. He feels good, and I don't get called... things...

Don't look so surprised. Because of who I am, but more often because of what I look like.

Clark and Sheridan turn the corner. The street's deserted. And unnaturally quiet. Eerily so.

SHERIDAN
Clark, where're you from? Originally?

So begins Clark's mind, turning over the available information wanting to answer but unable to, unsure as he is and knowing the response could make him the immediate subject of multiple - and possibly simultaneous - experiments.

SHERIDAN
You're not from Metropolis.

CLARK
No?

SHERIDAN
You don't have that cynical, been there, done that wrote the book, sold the screen rights sort of vibe about you. Wait…
(stops)
Let me guess.

Sheridan gives Clark a major once-over. Actually, it's like a once-over cubed.

SHERIDAN
Farm boy…
(takes his hand in hers)
Although your hands are remarkably smooth for farm work.

CLARK
Gloves. I wear gloves. And use…lotion. A lot.

SHERIDAN
(stifles giggle)
A lot of lotion.
(beat; guesses)
You're not from... Smallville, are you?

Clark provides a slow-to-show smile of agreement.

CLARK
You found me out.

SHERIDAN
The "Creamed Corn Capital" of Kansas?

CLARK
(uneasy)
It used to be.

SHERIDAN
Right. I forgot about the huge cosmic downpour. Were you around for that?

Clark's mercifully distracted by a man following them. Sheridan follows his gaze.

SHERIDAN
You are some guard dog.
(Clark returns his attention to Sheridan)
He's one of my bodyguards. Making sure I get home in one piece.

CLARK
How much further?

SHERIDAN
My place? It's just around the corner.

Clark turns. The bodyguard's nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, a car veers into frame, screaming down the street, swerving erratically. Clark has a very bad feeling about the transmuted circumstances.

The car heads undeniably in the duo's direction.

Clark hustles Sheridan into an alley –

EXT. METROPOLIS ALLEY

- which, considering it's a dead end, clearly wasn't the brightest move.

Clark blinks, owning his lack of forethought with a kicked puppy look.

Clark's fear pans out as the car appears at the alley's mouth. The windows are tinted, but Clark has just enough time to make makes out a figure wearing a ski mask through the darkness before -

- the engine revs

- and the car comes gunning towards them.

Clark looks up quickly. The fire escape ladder's reachable – if he gives Sheridan a little help.

Hurriedly, Clark takes her by the waist and boost-tosses her up. Sheridan grabs onto the ladder, climbing as the car speeds toward Clark.

There's no room for Clark to maneuver. And he's out of time.

Clark drops to the ground, allowing the car to pass over him, lifting the vehicle to assist its clearance. Immediately after the rear bumper passes over him, he stands and leaps, easily grasping the fire escape and climbing in a single fluid motion.

Without delay, the driver throws the car into reverse.

Sheridan looks down, sees Clark climbing below her.

Below the duo, the car comes to a screeching halt.

The driver exits the vehicle and hastily pursues them.

EXT. ROOF

Sheridan stands anxiously on the rooftop and Clark appears. He extends his hand.

The two run, Sheridan trailing Clark, to the other side of the roof.

No fire escape. Just a bit of a drop. And a neighboring building that seems impossibly far away.

Sheridan pulls back, terrified of the distance from there to the pavement. Clark picks up on her fear, speaks gently.

CLARK
Do you trust me?

SHERIDAN
As much as a gal can trust somebody she just met. Ok, maybe a little more tha – is there a point to this line of questioning? Because I suspect we don't have a lot of time...

CLARK
Close your eyes.

SHERIDAN
Clark I –

CLARK
(firm but gentle)
Trust me.

Somebody, bottle that Farm Boy charm. Or the alien pheromone... Sheridan does as Clark asks.

Clark scoops her up and –

- tosses her in an arc toward the other building.

Clark sees a hand on the top of the fire escape, thinks to go after the attacker, then remembers...

CLARK
(watches her arc slowly)
Sheridan...

Clark takes a few steps back, then, runs, launching himself into the air...

For a moment, Clark seems to hang prone, arms outstretched, suspended in midair, before his body tilts and he lands on the edge of the building across the way.

Clark wobbles, almost losing his balance, then regains it – just in time to catch Sheridan in his arms.

He's a blur as Ski Mask appears at the edge of the first building. Clark makes sure he and Sheridan are out of view.

SHERIDAN
(eyes still closed)
Clark?

CLARK
Um?

SHERIDAN
That felt... weird.

Clark suppresses a chuckle.

CLARK
Oh? Weird how?

SHERIDAN
Roller coaster weird.
(eyes still closed)
What now?

CLARK
Just hold on.

Sheridan wraps her arms around Clark's neck. For a minute, it looks like she might be holding on tightly enough to strangle him.

Her eyes still closed, she doesn't see Clark twist the doorknob and force the door open.

INT. ROOF ACCESS STAIRWELL

Clark lowers Sheridan to the floor.

CLARK
It's ok. You can open your eyes now.

SHERIDAN
(eyes remain shut)
Are you sure?

CLARK
I'm sure.

SHERIDAN
Is he gone?

Clark opens the door and scans the area. So it would seem.

CLARK
Looks like it.

Sheridan opens her eyes and instantly collapses into the nearest wall.

SHERIDAN
Diva needs a minute.
(beat)
Are you absolutely certain he's audi.

CLARK
I could go and –

SHERIDAN
- Oh hell no...

Clark's eyes go wide.

SHERIDAN
What? Don't they use words like "hell" and "damn" in Smallville?

CLARK
I guess.

SHERIDAN
But you don't.

CLARK
Nope.

Sheridan searches his eyes. Damn, nothing but sincerity. Sheridan shakes her head.

SHERIDAN
I've seen stranger things – but not much.
This in the age of Eminem... Any more like you back home?

Clark shakes his head slowly to indicate "no." Sheridan starts down the steps.

SHERIDAN
We're not staying here all night, are we?

CLARK
No, but –

SHERIDAN
You said he's gone. I say we move this party elsewhere.

CLARK
Lead the way.

SHERIDAN
So obedient. I like that in a man.

EXT. BUILDING

Sheridan whips out her cell phone, dials a number.

SHERIDAN
(covers mouthpiece; to Clark)
Calling the limo.

INT. LIMO

The chauffeur, Bernie, answers the phone. A bodyguard sits on passenger side of the vehicle.

SHERIDAN
Bernie... Everything's ok? Good...

Sheridan passes Clark the phone.

SHERIDAN
Talk to your friends. Bernie says everything's copasetic.

CLARK
Pete? How're -

PETE
- awesome, man! We got to watch them sweep the limo for bombs!!! Mirrors, flashlights, the whole nine!!!

CLARK
Uh, Pete, you find this... exciting because...

PETE
More stories for the date book! Gotta have things to talk about when you date, Clark. But you'd know that if you ever –

Chloe snatches the phone from Pete.

PETE
Hey! Not done yet!

CHLOE
So are. Clark, are you all right? What's going on?

CLARK
I'm fine Chloe. We just... took a little detour.

CHLOE
(oh?)
A detour?

CLARK
I just want to make sure Sheridan gets home safely.

CHLOE
Can't be mad at you for that.

CLARK
Sure you could. But it would be –

CHLOE & CLARK
- a waste of time.

More unison. It's starting to get a little freaky. Nice, but freaky.

CLARK
(turns so Sheridan can't hear)
Are we still on for tomorrow?

CHLOE
(holds back the excitement and tries to sound nonchalant)
Tomorrow? Refresh my memory...

CLARK
Walk? Park?

CHLOE
(yay! he remembered!)
Riiight. Of course. Unless something comes up.

CLARK
It won't.

CHLOE
Famous last words.

CLARK
Not last words. Not famous. Not infamous. Good night, Chloe.

CHLOE
'night Clark.

PETE
(yells)
Night!!!

EXT. INDUSTRIAL BUILDING

Sheridan stops short, almost causing Clark to plow into her. He regards her quizzically.

SHERIDAN
Home. Sweet, sweet home.

Ok, Clark decides, definitely unexpected. He hopes it doesn't sound that way when he says it.

It does.

CLARK
You live here?

SHERIDAN
Uh, yeah.
(punches alarm code; hydraulics whirr as the door opens)
Considering I own the building, I'd say it makes some small amount of sense. At least for those moments I'm feeling "conventional."

INT. INDUSTRIAL BUILDING

Uh, what's "conventional" about –

SHERIDAN
(indicates)
- A recording studio… Karaoke lounge… You wouldn't believe how my friends behave after a few...

Sheridan hits a switch. The lights go down – and a spotlight comes up in the center of the lounge – and Clark.

SHERIDAN
Give us a song, would you?
(before Clark can respond)
Just had a thought… You're not into that crap alt rock? Hillbilly music I can handle… Another Pearl Jam clone… Not having it.

Yes, I am full of opinions. And glad to be home.

Sheridan extends her hand. Clark takes it. She leads him down the hall.

INT. HALLWAY – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.

Clark approaches the door. He scans it quickly – xray check. Clark relaxes visibly after determining nothing is amiss. Sheridan regards him. Clark's not sure how to interpret the look, but a tiny smile curling up the edges of a woman's lips is a good thing, right?

Sheridan hands Clark the key. He opens the door.

INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM

Sheridan enters as Clark well, freezes in the doorway though not for fear of the decor. The living room is actually a pleasant surprise. Not overdone, but spacious, comfy, warm, inviting.

Hoo boy.

SHERIDAN
It's ok. Really. Unless... You're not something freaky like a vampire – are you? Because I'm about to invite you in.
(takes him by hand)
Come in.

Sheridan immediately kicks off her shoes. Now, she looks even more "girl like" than the wardrobe change previously suggested.

SHERIDAN
(padding off to the kitchen)
Would you like some tea?

Clark finds himself studying the interior. He determines it's the kind of place Chloe would have – if she had any nesting instincts. And an extra million or two.

CLARK
Sure.

SHERIDAN
(from kitchen)
Is herbal okay?

Clark picks up a scrapbook from the coffee table. He turns the pages gingerly, frankly shocked (albeit curious) by the book's contents...

CLARK
Sure.

...page after page of hate letters. Some in crayon, some time painstakingly produced with glued on newspaper letters, some very elegantly crafted, but mostly lewd, crude and rude.

Sheridan emerges, holding a hot water kettle.

SHERIDAN
(explaining)
Best of...

SHERIDAN
Mostly those a bit touched in the head... I knew I'd arrived when the first one came...
(turns page, indicates)
Here. I used to keep them all... Now, I only keep my favorites.

You must find me... odd.

CLARK
No, no not really. I remember a near dance of joy not too long ago from a...
(what are we?)
friend... The day she got started getting hate mail. She'd done a story and... She said it meant she was hitting a nerve.

SHERIDAN
Anyone I know?

CLARK
Chloe.

SHERIDAN
Um.

Sheridan heads back into the kitchen.

INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN

Sheridan fills the kettle with water. Clark appears in the doorway. He watches Sheridan keenly as she turns on the stove.

CLARK'S POV

as he listens to the electronic ignition engage, the HISS of gas as it's expelled, the WHOOSH as it ignites... Then something strange... A CRACK/SPLINTER SOUND that causes him to turns his x-ray vision in the direction of the stove.

Clark sees a bomb. And the seconds are now counting down.

CLARK
(searches quickly for the appropriate thing to say)
You've had a rough night... You should... relax. I can make the tea.

Sheridan's lips move to form an unvocalized protest as Clark hustles her into the living room.

INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM

Clark seats Sheridan on the couch. She rises as he starts back into the kitchen. Clark reseats her. She starts to get up a second time (what is she anyway, part Tigger?). This time, Clark plops her down on the couch. Stays her with a hand. He doesn't have a lot of time.

Sheridan senses the urgency (if she doesn't understand it) and stays put. It's entirely possible he's just REALLY into making tea...

INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN

SHERIDAN (O.S.)
(Clark switches off the stove)
Are you sure I can't help you?

CLARK
(too quickly)
No!
(winces; beat)
I mean I'm sure. I'm fine.

Vigilantly, Clark lifts the top of the stove, exposing the bomb to full view. He removes it slowly, his concern not for himself but for the woman in the other room.

CLARK
(quietly)
Everything's fine.

EXT. FIRE ESCAPE

Clark climbs through the window. Tosses the bomb up, up – and way away.

EXT. NIGHT SKY

Stars – and the bomb - as it explodes.

INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN

Sheridan runs into frame in time to see –

- Clark removing the kettle from the stove.

SHERIDAN
What was that?

CLARK
I think a car backfired.

SHERIDAN
I didn't hear it whistle.

CLARK
The car?

SHERIDAN
The kettle. Did the water boil?

CLARK
Can't have tea unless the water's hot.

Sheridan watches him, unconvinced he's telling the truth.

SHERIDAN
(indicating)
Tea's over there.

Clark looks amazingly comfortable. Too comfortable. Sheridan furtively touches the kettle. And snatches her hand back. Ok, the kettle's hot, but he's not being honest about something.

SHERIDAN
(Clark hands her a cup; beat)
You should call your parents. You are nowhere near twenty-one.

INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM – SHORT TIME LATER

Off camera, we hear the sound of water running.

Clark stands, eyes fixed skeptically on the phone. Skepticism yields unwillingly to resignation. There's a beat a before he picks up the receiver.

INTERCUT AS NECESSARY (Clark and Martha/Jonathan sharing the phone)

MARTHA
Clark?

JONATHAN
Clark, where is she now?

CLARK
(maybe I can fake them out)
She...?

MARTHA
Sheridan.

CLARK
(Houston, we have a problem; beat; speaks softly into the phone)
Taking a shower.

JONATHAN
Son, Chloe told us about how you all decided at the last minute to go to Metropolis...
(Clark's look: Nice work, Chloe!!!)
...and just happened to go to a club where Sheridan was performing.

CLARK
(go Chloe, go Chloe, go, go, go Chloe – wait a minute...)
You... You know Sheridan?

JONATHAN
We live on a farm Clark, not the North Pole.

MARTHA
Of course we know who she is sweetie.

JONATHAN
Has anything happened since the shooting?

CLARK
(ok, Chloe, I'm taking back every good thing I just thought)
Um... something small. It's not even worth mentioning.

MARTHA
What, Clark?

CLARK
(reluctantly)
A bomb.

MARTHA
A bomb?

JONATHAN
Son?
(rhetorically)
You are coming home?

The shower water ceases.

CLARK
(checks in the direction of the bathroom; speaks more quietly)
Yes. Sheridan insists on driving me back to the truck.

JONATHAN
You be careful.

CLARK
Always.

MARTHA
We love you.

CLARK
I know. But it's still good to hear. Love you too.

Clark replaces the receiver, a "glad that's over" look claiming his features.

Sheridan enters the living room, clad in a towel.

SHERIDAN
Did you call your parents.

CLARK
Yes, yes I did.

SHERIDAN
Good.
(beat)
How'd you like the tea?

CLARK
Tea was good. Jasmine?

SHERIDAN
(nods)
Um. I'm going to go and get dressed.
(exits; reenters)
How long have you and Chloe known each other?

CLARK
About two years.

SHERIDAN
Oh. That's not very long. I would've guessed longer.

CLARK
Longer? Why?

SHERIDAN
No reason.

I'm gonna...

Sheridan motions and walks, disappearing from view as Clark contemplates the exchange.

INT. INDUSTRIAL BLDG. - PARKING GARAGE

SHERIDAN
(notes Clark's surprised expression)
What were you expecting?

CLARK
Something a little more... Or less...

SHERIDAN
I like it. It likes me.

Sheridan climbs into the driver's side of an SUV. Clark follows on the passenger side.

The SUV pulls out of the garage, heads into –

EXT. METROPOLIS STREET

SHERIDAN
It actually suits me, you know. Considering that Artie thinks I drive like a maniac... Crush space is good.

CLARK
(notes Sheridan's multiple California stops)
Some maniacs obey traffic laws.

SHERIDAN
I suppose –

Sheridan taps the brake. Nothing. She smiles reassuringly at Clark as she tries the parking brake. Nothing. The speedometer starts to climb – in spite of Sheridan's foot being nowhere near the accelerator. Sheridan takes the corner at an unreasonable velocity.

SHERIDAN
Not me.

CLARK
(quick scan of engine/brake line; accelerator's been rewired, brake line's been cut)
No. Definitely not you.

Clark unfastens Sheridan's seatbelt.

SHERIDAN
Clark, what're you doing?

Clark motions to Sheridan to slide over. The speedometer jumps. Sheridan works to keep the vehicle on the road.

SHERIDAN
Very funny, Clark.

CLARK
(grabs for steering wheel)
I'll steady the car – but we need to –

SHERIDAN
I don't know about you,
(car pitches as Sheridan's forced to take another corner at what could only be Indy 500 speed to avoid a red light and oncoming traffic)
but I'm not exactly indestructible.

Face – pavement: not an option.

CLARK
SUV – wall: real possibility.

The speedometer jumps again. Clark's look: Trust me.

A beat before Sheridan lets go of the wheel and scoots over to Clark's side of the vehicle.

INT./EXT. SHERIDAN'S SUV

Clark opens the passenger door as Sheridan climbs onto his lap –

EXT. SHERIDAN'S SUV

- two spill from the SUV, Clark's body shielding the singer as the vehicle crashes into the side of a building and explodes.

Out of harm's way, Sheridan and Clark regard the fireball.

CLARK
I may be overreacting, but I'm beginning to sense a pattern here.

Off their looks.