AU WARNING: Please keep an open mind – it's several years after Smallville
as we know it. If you're looking for warm, fuzzy, coming-of-age angst, this
story isn't for you. Check your pre-conceived notions at the door. This is
a future that has yet to pass. They've left behind their teenaged lives,
gone to university and have several years of real work/life experience
behind them This has the potential of becoming a truly tragic tale. It's a
future turned on its head, a world that we don't want for them, but is
nonetheless probable. It happens because they make what seem to be
reasonable choices. Everyone is more jaded, less willing to confide in one
another. You'll see why ...
SUMMARY: College graduation has passed. Five years after, Clark, Chloe and the gang have moved on with their lives. Clark, on the brink of his destiny as the Man of Steel, confronts a future he does not want -- but must accept. It is a time to re-assess old friendships. A test of loyalty turns ally into foe. And one estranged friend is duty-bound to betray a secret. Not a sequel.
[Daily Planet offices – About five years after college]
Clark Kent, general assignment reporter for the Planet, sat in the office of the urban affairs writer. Not the best office in the building, but a sign nonetheless of the writer's rising star in the revered newspaper.
Urban Affairs writer Lois Lane, that is. "I have to take this call, Clark. Just give me a minute." She grilled some city bureaucrat about who-knows- what irregularity in some report.
Clark had been uneasy. He had worked as hard as Lois Lane and Chloe Sullivan, graduating with honours from Metropolis University's School of Journalism. But he returned to his hometown of Smallville to tend to the final affairs of Jonathan Kent. He watched ... as his father slowly died from terminal cancer. His mother, Martha, died too. At least her spirit, when the doctor finally told her that her beloved husband had passed on. She did what she could to maintain the farm, but it just seemed like going through the motions.
Five years went by as Clark tended to the family farm and his mother's slowly deteriorating health. He continued to write freelance articles for the Planet. He finally got his lucky break when Perry White phoned him about an opening in general assignment. "Clark, you have to move on. Your future is no longer here in Smallville," Martha had insisted. He took her advice, but he soon learned that his former classmates had surpassed him.
Since the first day of university, Lois Lane was driven to succeed. And determined to prove herself. After five years with the Planet, she had catapulted from the general assignment pool to her own beat in urban affairs. Several national newspaper awards and a Pulitzer nomination for whistle-blowing on city hall corruption ensured her place among the Planet's great reporters.
Clark's high school pal (and potential love interest) Chloe had also moved on. She stopped holding a candle for the indifferent Clark and became involved with a brash, young photographer: James Olsen. They would join the Daily Planet within six months of graduation. Chloe, too, broke out of the general assignment pool to become the Planet's most aggressive crime beat reporter. She took no prisoners, thus earning the praise of the police and the attorneys – and a rumoured mob contract on her life. While she diligently pursued the gritty stories of Metropolis' underworld, Jimmy Olsen's photography career took him to the frontlines of Sierra Leone, unrest in Bosnia and riots in Indonesia.
Faced with an opportunity to join Jimmy on-location as a freelancer, she chose her steady career amidst the steel and glass cathedrals of Metropolis. Jimmy soon grew apart from her. Clark could do nothing as Chloe and Jimmy finally ended their tumultuous relationship in a heated phone conversation. "I have my life now," Jimmy declared, "and you're no longer a part of it." That was the formal breakup, but Clark knew it had ended the moment Chloe picked her job over being wedded to Jimmy's jetsetting career.
Chloe and Lois respected each other as peers, nothing more. There was a falling out during their final year at j-school. My fault, Clark thought. I shouldn't have ... He stopped himself. Why am I thinking about the past? Am I bitter? Resentful that my career has stalled?
Smallville. We were so close back then. Chloe, Pete and I. Oh, and Lana.
Lana. How has she been holding up?
At the end of their senior year in high school, US Marine Pvt. Fordman (Whitney) returned from an uneventful tour of duty in Korea. "Will you marry me, Lana Lang?" The words that convinced Clark that Smallville held no future happiness for him. Clark's dad had taken a turn for the worst, so he was spared from watching his dream girl marry someone else. Less than year after their marriage, a crisis broke out in the Caucasus region of Central Asia. Renegade Russian battalions, dissatisfied with the loss of prestige and morale-breaking budget cuts, seized vital pipelines and made demands of the Kremlin. The Russians called for a UN intervention force, which was soundly vetoed. NATO had other ideas and send a 'peacekeeping' force to keep the renegades and the Russians apart. One misunderstanding led to a murdered British soldier ... and sparked a shooting war. Whitney had risen to a corporal's rank and had orders to recapture a vital pipeline. The American regiment prevailed. Whitney, who had dreams of being a starting quarterback for an NFL team, died instantly when he stepped on a landmine.
Clark could not bear to watch as Lana bravely endured the full burial ceremony at Arlington. Clutching the folded flag that sealed her fate. Lana had begun a business diploma at Leesburg College, but suspended her studies when the Caucasus crisis erupted. "You ... could continue your studies, Lana. It's time to lead your life," Clark had suggested, shortly after the funeral.
Lana was livid. "Of all the crowd at Smallville High, Whitney was the only one who stood by me! You, Chloe ... all of you ... simply left. You were too good for Smallville. You had plans, dreams. I felt ... left out. Alone." She could hold back the sorrow no longer – and sobbed.
That was one year ago. Clark hadn't spoken to her since then.
"Clark? Clark, I lost you for a minute, there?" Lois sat at her desk. "You had a lead on Luthor Corp.'s lobbying for the new stadium?"
"Oh, yes." Clark pulled out a press release. "Lex Luthor plans to tear down the old stadium and build a modern one. It's part of a major redevelopment strategy – to coincide with the city's bid for the Summer Olympics."
"Thanks, Clark." Lois took the file.
"I – could work on the story?" Clark inquired.
"No can do. You're a friend of Lex, aren't you? It's a conflict-of-interest thing. I'm sorry. I'll have Jon from Business follow up on the Luthor angle. But ... you could do a piece on the redevelopment plan."
"Gotcha," Clark gathered his notebook. I always forget. I'm a reporter now. I'm not supposed to let my personal life affect my objectivity.
Although Lex tried his best to influence that objectivity. Alexander Luthor had wrested control of Luthor Corp. from his father two years ago. Lex had assembled some of the leading biotech and research firms together into a formidable subsidiary of the Corporation. Lionel was speechless at the annual shareholders' meeting when they voted 70% to remove him as Chairman and CEO. Oh, he still kept the title of President, but effective control fell to the new chief executive officer, Lex Luthor.
Lionel, stripped of the company he founded, placed himself into exile, living in his various estates in Switzerland, Hong Kong and London. Lex paid him a courtesy call during the summers, often at the Luthor yacht anchored off the Greek coast. Only to touch base, not ask for advice.
But without Lionel's network of powerful society friends, Lex had to establish new contacts, including making friends with city councillors on the influential Urban Development Committee. So far, they had power over him. He wanted to alter that equation – and was looking for dirt to persuade less-cooperative councillors to back his building projects. Clark's reluctance to assist him was becoming a point of contention. Clark was still a friend, but his job as a reporter was putting strains on their friendship.
Clark's phone rang. "Planet city desk, Clark Kent speaking ..."
"My friend, the big city reporter!" Lex exclaimed.
Clark heard the roar of engines. "Where are you?"
"I'm about to land at Metropolis International. I just returned from Switzerland, pushing for the Olympic bid. You should come along sometime ... I could put you in touch with some contacts at the IOC ..."
"Not my turf," Clark was evasive. "I'm just a general assignment reporter. Which means I'm staying put in Metropolis for the time being."
"You're still on for the Sharks-Bills game, right? Corporate box ... or does Perry White have ethics guidelines against hanging out with an old buddy of yours?"
Clark chuckled. "I'll be there." He paused. "Look, Lex, I know things have been rough – for both of us – these past few years. I've grown apart from Chloe and Lois. I – don't want that to happen to us."
Lex gazed down at towering skyscrapers of Metropolis. It's my city now. "Clark, business is business. I promise you, my development plans won't affect our friendship. And I apologize if I've leaned on you when I shouldn't have. You have an important role at the Planet. It's not my place to disrupt your job. Oh – we're about to land. I'll send the car to pick you up. Friday."
"Happy landings," Clark hung up the phone.
"Chatting with Metropolis' favourite son again," Chloe grumbled. "I don't get how you can be so cosy with Lex ... after what he's doing up in Alaska."
Clark was getting tired of her holier-than-thou lectures. "Look, the way Lex explained it, his mining operation will create thousands of needed jobs up there. And he says he'll minimize the environmental impact ..."
"And you take him at his word?!" Chloe couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The only reason Luthor Corp. won that mining concession was because his lobbyists threatened to pull financing for about a dozen senators!"
"Oh come on! That story came from the Gotham Times. Gotham City is jealous of Lex's urban revitalization projects and would do anything to cast a bad light on those plans." Chloe shook her head and marched away.
"For someone who claims to be objective, " Clark had blurted within earshot, "you're definitely good making judgment calls based on bias!"
"Okay, okay!" Perry White intervened. He called Chloe back. And glared at Clark. "You both have a point, alright! Chloe – I expect reporters to base judgments on fact, not hearsay. I don't want my reporters' opinions spilling out onto their news articles. We have people who do that for a living. They're callled 'columnists'! Love him or hate him, Lex Luthor is a leading citizen in this town. I don't want the Planet dragged into a needless libel suit! Isn't Metro P.D. holding a press conference at five?" Chloe gasped and dashed to the elevator.
Clark grinned smugly, but Perry glared at him. "Not so fast, Kansas Kid. I was always uncomfortable about your coziness with Lex Luthor. Now that you're covering the urban development story, I'm afraid there is a conflict- of-interest. Lex is the leading candidate to spearhead Metropolis' Olympic bid ... a bid based on the success of this very development! I don't want you spending so much time with him."
"Are you questioning my judgment, Perry?!" Clark demanded.
Perry scratched his head. "No, Mr. Kent, I'm not. You're a good reporter. I'm just worried that – with your friendship to Lex – your objectivity might have a blind spot when it comes to all things Luthor."
"Lex is my friend. That's my private life. I won't let that get in the way of my job! If you will excuse me, I have an interview at city hall." Clark stormed out of room.
Perry glanced at Lois. "It's those two – the Smallville duet – they're going to be the death of me!"
"I'm pretty confident in Chloe and Clark's abilities," Lois replied. "At crunch time, they'll always pull through."
I hope so, Perry thought. I would hate to have to let either of them go.
***
Chloe hailed a cab. "Metro P.D. Headquarters." The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.
So we're now at each other's throats, Chloe thought. How could our friendship deteriorate so badly? We were such good friends in Smallville.
We could have been more ...
Six years ago we were in our third-year of Metropolis U.'s demanding j- school program. Clark, Lois and I had picked the print journalism stream in our second year – no surprise there. With my twice-a-week column in the varsity newspaper, the Quill – plus the occasional freelance piece – I was spending less and less time with Clark.
I think that's what happened. Clark's dad had just been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumour. Cancer, undoubtedly caused by the new aluminum smeltering plant built on the edges of Smallville. An old acquaintance of Lex's had purchased the land ... and proceeded to pollute the entire county.
Clark spent a week in Smallville. Jonathan Kent was dying. There was nothing the doctors, or anyone, could do. Lex spent the next year – and millions of dollars – recruiting the best doctors, researchers and techniques, trying to come up with a solution. I have to admit, if there was a moment that Lex proved his loyalty to Clark, that was it.
Jonathan had ordered Clark to return to his studies. "If you're going to watching me die instead of living your life ... there's no sense to that!" Reluctantly, Clark returned to Metropolis.
At the darkest moment of his life, I should have been there. I wasn't.
Lois Lane was. Lois was just as hard working as I was. Even then, she was tough-as-nails. The Planet even picked up one of her varsity stories about alleged misuse of university funds. Despite her busy schedule, Lois was there. To listen as Clark saw the stability of his family wither away. Martha was finding it harder and harder to maintain the farm on her own.
After graduation, Clark chose to return to Smallville. By then, I had been seeing Jimmy Olsen for about eight months. I would learn – too late -- that Clark had tried to contact me at the Quill's offices. He had wanted advice – what to do about school, the farm – advice that I would have gladly given. We were wrapping up my final edition of the paper. "There's a call for you," Dan, the photo editor told me. "I'm really, really busy!" I had yelled. "I don't have time right now." Clark must have heard that.
"Would you like to leave a message?" Dan asked. "Hello?! Hmm, they hung up. Jerk."
I spotted him later at the campus coffeehouse. Spilling his soul to Lois Lane.
"... thanks for hearing me out, Lois," Clark had said.
"Follow your heart, you'll know the right thing to do," Lois replied.
Then I showed up. Completely clueless. How could I be so stupid? "Guys, it's past 9! Awfully late to still be on campus." Lame attempt at humour.
Clark just glared at me. "Thanks again, Lois." He glared at me again. "I've got to run. I've got things to do."
Chloe was shocked at the brush-off. "Geez, somebody has a big chip on his shoulder!"
"Chloe, didn't you know? Clark – he's going to move back to Smallville. After graduation."
"No, he's not. His future is here. In Metropolis."
"Why didn't you take Clark's call?" Lois demanded.
"He didn't call me."
"At the Quill office?? But apparently, you were too busy!"
"Yeah, I was too busy. I'm the editor – it's my final edition and it had to be ... oh ... someone tried to call me this afternoon ..."
Lois was angry. "I found Clark walking on campus. All he wanted was a few moments of your time, that's all! To talk."
I turned around, but Clark had already left.
That shouldn't have been a surprise. With every missed coffee date, every rescheduled rendezvous, every cancelled study session over a span of three years, I had told him that I was moving on. He took the hint. Going steady with Jimmy Olsen in my final year finally signaled the end of any hope that I still had feelings for him. Why should he stay in Metropolis?
He returned to the only people who supported him – loved him – without question. His family.
I should have known. I knew. I just didn't want to stray from the path that I had chosen. I got what I always wanted. My dream job at the Daily Planet, the 'New York Times of the Mid-West'.
Clark and I still have coffee. To swap sources. To rant about the corruption in the city. I've made an attempt to open the door. Restore some trust. I wasn't there when I should have been. For Clark, that's an albatross I'll have to wear.
A few days ago, we had coffee. A rare lunch break.
"... Councillor da Costa is on the Police Services Committee, you should talk to him ..." Clark offered. He was a good colleague. A co-worker. I hated that. The distance.
"Clark, can we stop talking about work for just this once," I blurted.
"Uhh, okay."
"How's Mrs. Kent? The farm?" As if, all of a sudden, he would start confiding in me like he used to in Smallville.
"She's as good as can be," Clark responded tersely. "The farm's holding up." That was all he was prepared to offer. "... My sources tell me that there's a chance if the city refuses the pay hike, the cops might stage a wildcat strike ..." He went back to his comfort zone: work – effectively slamming the door on me.
Is it my fault? I had plans, too. My future does not depend on him! Clark also resented that I lost touch with Lana. But we all did. At least he called her up once in awhile. I did email her frequently during my freshman year. Attended her marriage to Whitney. After that ... I didn't have time. You can't go home again, I believed.
"Metro P.D." the cab driver announced.
Back to the present, Chloe. The news conference had already started.
"... we have formed an elite squad – detectives, SWAT teams, 100 extra patrolmen – to combat the rise in organized crime ..."
"Has this move been prompted by the attempted hit on the district attorney?" one reporter hollered.
The police chief paused. "We have always been committed to undermining the mob. The D.A. situation is a separate investigation."
Chloe shoved her way to the front. "By this show of force, Chief, are you declaring war on the mob?"
"Ms. Sullivan, over the past six months, I've had to bury eight constables. Only last week ..." the chief wiped his eyes, "...Constable Jenkins ... he left a wife and a little boy ... yes, you tell your readers and viewers ... Metropolis won't stand for this any longer! This isn't Gotham City. Rupert Thorne, your cronies and gangsters ... we're on your tail. Set up shop in our city ... and we will take you down!"
The next day announced Metropolis' battle cry.
In the Daily Planet:
'CHIEF O'REILLY DECLARES WAR ON THE MOB'
In the tabloid, the Inquisitor:
'CHIEF TELLS MOB BOSS THORNE: YOUR ASS IS MINE!!'
Even in the esteemed Gotham Times:
'METRO P.D. PLEDGES SWIFT ACTION AS GOTHAM CRIME BOSS THORNE EXPANDS MID- WEST OPERATIONS'
Rupert Thorne held court in the suburban hotel, the Radisson Metropolis West. The smoky Cabana Lounge.
"The Planet's been putting the heat on us since the raid on our body rub parlours," an associate grumbled.
"It's that blonde chick, their beat reporter," another associate downed his shot of whiskey, "the little bitch!"
"Chloe Sullivan, the Planet's feisty crime reporter," Rupert scanned the front page again. "They could have at least put a photo of me on the front."
Chloe is a problem. A problem that needed to be solved.
"Boys, you know what to do."
Sorry, Ms. Sullivan. Nothing personal.
It's just business.
SUMMARY: College graduation has passed. Five years after, Clark, Chloe and the gang have moved on with their lives. Clark, on the brink of his destiny as the Man of Steel, confronts a future he does not want -- but must accept. It is a time to re-assess old friendships. A test of loyalty turns ally into foe. And one estranged friend is duty-bound to betray a secret. Not a sequel.
[Daily Planet offices – About five years after college]
Clark Kent, general assignment reporter for the Planet, sat in the office of the urban affairs writer. Not the best office in the building, but a sign nonetheless of the writer's rising star in the revered newspaper.
Urban Affairs writer Lois Lane, that is. "I have to take this call, Clark. Just give me a minute." She grilled some city bureaucrat about who-knows- what irregularity in some report.
Clark had been uneasy. He had worked as hard as Lois Lane and Chloe Sullivan, graduating with honours from Metropolis University's School of Journalism. But he returned to his hometown of Smallville to tend to the final affairs of Jonathan Kent. He watched ... as his father slowly died from terminal cancer. His mother, Martha, died too. At least her spirit, when the doctor finally told her that her beloved husband had passed on. She did what she could to maintain the farm, but it just seemed like going through the motions.
Five years went by as Clark tended to the family farm and his mother's slowly deteriorating health. He continued to write freelance articles for the Planet. He finally got his lucky break when Perry White phoned him about an opening in general assignment. "Clark, you have to move on. Your future is no longer here in Smallville," Martha had insisted. He took her advice, but he soon learned that his former classmates had surpassed him.
Since the first day of university, Lois Lane was driven to succeed. And determined to prove herself. After five years with the Planet, she had catapulted from the general assignment pool to her own beat in urban affairs. Several national newspaper awards and a Pulitzer nomination for whistle-blowing on city hall corruption ensured her place among the Planet's great reporters.
Clark's high school pal (and potential love interest) Chloe had also moved on. She stopped holding a candle for the indifferent Clark and became involved with a brash, young photographer: James Olsen. They would join the Daily Planet within six months of graduation. Chloe, too, broke out of the general assignment pool to become the Planet's most aggressive crime beat reporter. She took no prisoners, thus earning the praise of the police and the attorneys – and a rumoured mob contract on her life. While she diligently pursued the gritty stories of Metropolis' underworld, Jimmy Olsen's photography career took him to the frontlines of Sierra Leone, unrest in Bosnia and riots in Indonesia.
Faced with an opportunity to join Jimmy on-location as a freelancer, she chose her steady career amidst the steel and glass cathedrals of Metropolis. Jimmy soon grew apart from her. Clark could do nothing as Chloe and Jimmy finally ended their tumultuous relationship in a heated phone conversation. "I have my life now," Jimmy declared, "and you're no longer a part of it." That was the formal breakup, but Clark knew it had ended the moment Chloe picked her job over being wedded to Jimmy's jetsetting career.
Chloe and Lois respected each other as peers, nothing more. There was a falling out during their final year at j-school. My fault, Clark thought. I shouldn't have ... He stopped himself. Why am I thinking about the past? Am I bitter? Resentful that my career has stalled?
Smallville. We were so close back then. Chloe, Pete and I. Oh, and Lana.
Lana. How has she been holding up?
At the end of their senior year in high school, US Marine Pvt. Fordman (Whitney) returned from an uneventful tour of duty in Korea. "Will you marry me, Lana Lang?" The words that convinced Clark that Smallville held no future happiness for him. Clark's dad had taken a turn for the worst, so he was spared from watching his dream girl marry someone else. Less than year after their marriage, a crisis broke out in the Caucasus region of Central Asia. Renegade Russian battalions, dissatisfied with the loss of prestige and morale-breaking budget cuts, seized vital pipelines and made demands of the Kremlin. The Russians called for a UN intervention force, which was soundly vetoed. NATO had other ideas and send a 'peacekeeping' force to keep the renegades and the Russians apart. One misunderstanding led to a murdered British soldier ... and sparked a shooting war. Whitney had risen to a corporal's rank and had orders to recapture a vital pipeline. The American regiment prevailed. Whitney, who had dreams of being a starting quarterback for an NFL team, died instantly when he stepped on a landmine.
Clark could not bear to watch as Lana bravely endured the full burial ceremony at Arlington. Clutching the folded flag that sealed her fate. Lana had begun a business diploma at Leesburg College, but suspended her studies when the Caucasus crisis erupted. "You ... could continue your studies, Lana. It's time to lead your life," Clark had suggested, shortly after the funeral.
Lana was livid. "Of all the crowd at Smallville High, Whitney was the only one who stood by me! You, Chloe ... all of you ... simply left. You were too good for Smallville. You had plans, dreams. I felt ... left out. Alone." She could hold back the sorrow no longer – and sobbed.
That was one year ago. Clark hadn't spoken to her since then.
"Clark? Clark, I lost you for a minute, there?" Lois sat at her desk. "You had a lead on Luthor Corp.'s lobbying for the new stadium?"
"Oh, yes." Clark pulled out a press release. "Lex Luthor plans to tear down the old stadium and build a modern one. It's part of a major redevelopment strategy – to coincide with the city's bid for the Summer Olympics."
"Thanks, Clark." Lois took the file.
"I – could work on the story?" Clark inquired.
"No can do. You're a friend of Lex, aren't you? It's a conflict-of-interest thing. I'm sorry. I'll have Jon from Business follow up on the Luthor angle. But ... you could do a piece on the redevelopment plan."
"Gotcha," Clark gathered his notebook. I always forget. I'm a reporter now. I'm not supposed to let my personal life affect my objectivity.
Although Lex tried his best to influence that objectivity. Alexander Luthor had wrested control of Luthor Corp. from his father two years ago. Lex had assembled some of the leading biotech and research firms together into a formidable subsidiary of the Corporation. Lionel was speechless at the annual shareholders' meeting when they voted 70% to remove him as Chairman and CEO. Oh, he still kept the title of President, but effective control fell to the new chief executive officer, Lex Luthor.
Lionel, stripped of the company he founded, placed himself into exile, living in his various estates in Switzerland, Hong Kong and London. Lex paid him a courtesy call during the summers, often at the Luthor yacht anchored off the Greek coast. Only to touch base, not ask for advice.
But without Lionel's network of powerful society friends, Lex had to establish new contacts, including making friends with city councillors on the influential Urban Development Committee. So far, they had power over him. He wanted to alter that equation – and was looking for dirt to persuade less-cooperative councillors to back his building projects. Clark's reluctance to assist him was becoming a point of contention. Clark was still a friend, but his job as a reporter was putting strains on their friendship.
Clark's phone rang. "Planet city desk, Clark Kent speaking ..."
"My friend, the big city reporter!" Lex exclaimed.
Clark heard the roar of engines. "Where are you?"
"I'm about to land at Metropolis International. I just returned from Switzerland, pushing for the Olympic bid. You should come along sometime ... I could put you in touch with some contacts at the IOC ..."
"Not my turf," Clark was evasive. "I'm just a general assignment reporter. Which means I'm staying put in Metropolis for the time being."
"You're still on for the Sharks-Bills game, right? Corporate box ... or does Perry White have ethics guidelines against hanging out with an old buddy of yours?"
Clark chuckled. "I'll be there." He paused. "Look, Lex, I know things have been rough – for both of us – these past few years. I've grown apart from Chloe and Lois. I – don't want that to happen to us."
Lex gazed down at towering skyscrapers of Metropolis. It's my city now. "Clark, business is business. I promise you, my development plans won't affect our friendship. And I apologize if I've leaned on you when I shouldn't have. You have an important role at the Planet. It's not my place to disrupt your job. Oh – we're about to land. I'll send the car to pick you up. Friday."
"Happy landings," Clark hung up the phone.
"Chatting with Metropolis' favourite son again," Chloe grumbled. "I don't get how you can be so cosy with Lex ... after what he's doing up in Alaska."
Clark was getting tired of her holier-than-thou lectures. "Look, the way Lex explained it, his mining operation will create thousands of needed jobs up there. And he says he'll minimize the environmental impact ..."
"And you take him at his word?!" Chloe couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The only reason Luthor Corp. won that mining concession was because his lobbyists threatened to pull financing for about a dozen senators!"
"Oh come on! That story came from the Gotham Times. Gotham City is jealous of Lex's urban revitalization projects and would do anything to cast a bad light on those plans." Chloe shook her head and marched away.
"For someone who claims to be objective, " Clark had blurted within earshot, "you're definitely good making judgment calls based on bias!"
"Okay, okay!" Perry White intervened. He called Chloe back. And glared at Clark. "You both have a point, alright! Chloe – I expect reporters to base judgments on fact, not hearsay. I don't want my reporters' opinions spilling out onto their news articles. We have people who do that for a living. They're callled 'columnists'! Love him or hate him, Lex Luthor is a leading citizen in this town. I don't want the Planet dragged into a needless libel suit! Isn't Metro P.D. holding a press conference at five?" Chloe gasped and dashed to the elevator.
Clark grinned smugly, but Perry glared at him. "Not so fast, Kansas Kid. I was always uncomfortable about your coziness with Lex Luthor. Now that you're covering the urban development story, I'm afraid there is a conflict- of-interest. Lex is the leading candidate to spearhead Metropolis' Olympic bid ... a bid based on the success of this very development! I don't want you spending so much time with him."
"Are you questioning my judgment, Perry?!" Clark demanded.
Perry scratched his head. "No, Mr. Kent, I'm not. You're a good reporter. I'm just worried that – with your friendship to Lex – your objectivity might have a blind spot when it comes to all things Luthor."
"Lex is my friend. That's my private life. I won't let that get in the way of my job! If you will excuse me, I have an interview at city hall." Clark stormed out of room.
Perry glanced at Lois. "It's those two – the Smallville duet – they're going to be the death of me!"
"I'm pretty confident in Chloe and Clark's abilities," Lois replied. "At crunch time, they'll always pull through."
I hope so, Perry thought. I would hate to have to let either of them go.
***
Chloe hailed a cab. "Metro P.D. Headquarters." The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.
So we're now at each other's throats, Chloe thought. How could our friendship deteriorate so badly? We were such good friends in Smallville.
We could have been more ...
Six years ago we were in our third-year of Metropolis U.'s demanding j- school program. Clark, Lois and I had picked the print journalism stream in our second year – no surprise there. With my twice-a-week column in the varsity newspaper, the Quill – plus the occasional freelance piece – I was spending less and less time with Clark.
I think that's what happened. Clark's dad had just been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumour. Cancer, undoubtedly caused by the new aluminum smeltering plant built on the edges of Smallville. An old acquaintance of Lex's had purchased the land ... and proceeded to pollute the entire county.
Clark spent a week in Smallville. Jonathan Kent was dying. There was nothing the doctors, or anyone, could do. Lex spent the next year – and millions of dollars – recruiting the best doctors, researchers and techniques, trying to come up with a solution. I have to admit, if there was a moment that Lex proved his loyalty to Clark, that was it.
Jonathan had ordered Clark to return to his studies. "If you're going to watching me die instead of living your life ... there's no sense to that!" Reluctantly, Clark returned to Metropolis.
At the darkest moment of his life, I should have been there. I wasn't.
Lois Lane was. Lois was just as hard working as I was. Even then, she was tough-as-nails. The Planet even picked up one of her varsity stories about alleged misuse of university funds. Despite her busy schedule, Lois was there. To listen as Clark saw the stability of his family wither away. Martha was finding it harder and harder to maintain the farm on her own.
After graduation, Clark chose to return to Smallville. By then, I had been seeing Jimmy Olsen for about eight months. I would learn – too late -- that Clark had tried to contact me at the Quill's offices. He had wanted advice – what to do about school, the farm – advice that I would have gladly given. We were wrapping up my final edition of the paper. "There's a call for you," Dan, the photo editor told me. "I'm really, really busy!" I had yelled. "I don't have time right now." Clark must have heard that.
"Would you like to leave a message?" Dan asked. "Hello?! Hmm, they hung up. Jerk."
I spotted him later at the campus coffeehouse. Spilling his soul to Lois Lane.
"... thanks for hearing me out, Lois," Clark had said.
"Follow your heart, you'll know the right thing to do," Lois replied.
Then I showed up. Completely clueless. How could I be so stupid? "Guys, it's past 9! Awfully late to still be on campus." Lame attempt at humour.
Clark just glared at me. "Thanks again, Lois." He glared at me again. "I've got to run. I've got things to do."
Chloe was shocked at the brush-off. "Geez, somebody has a big chip on his shoulder!"
"Chloe, didn't you know? Clark – he's going to move back to Smallville. After graduation."
"No, he's not. His future is here. In Metropolis."
"Why didn't you take Clark's call?" Lois demanded.
"He didn't call me."
"At the Quill office?? But apparently, you were too busy!"
"Yeah, I was too busy. I'm the editor – it's my final edition and it had to be ... oh ... someone tried to call me this afternoon ..."
Lois was angry. "I found Clark walking on campus. All he wanted was a few moments of your time, that's all! To talk."
I turned around, but Clark had already left.
That shouldn't have been a surprise. With every missed coffee date, every rescheduled rendezvous, every cancelled study session over a span of three years, I had told him that I was moving on. He took the hint. Going steady with Jimmy Olsen in my final year finally signaled the end of any hope that I still had feelings for him. Why should he stay in Metropolis?
He returned to the only people who supported him – loved him – without question. His family.
I should have known. I knew. I just didn't want to stray from the path that I had chosen. I got what I always wanted. My dream job at the Daily Planet, the 'New York Times of the Mid-West'.
Clark and I still have coffee. To swap sources. To rant about the corruption in the city. I've made an attempt to open the door. Restore some trust. I wasn't there when I should have been. For Clark, that's an albatross I'll have to wear.
A few days ago, we had coffee. A rare lunch break.
"... Councillor da Costa is on the Police Services Committee, you should talk to him ..." Clark offered. He was a good colleague. A co-worker. I hated that. The distance.
"Clark, can we stop talking about work for just this once," I blurted.
"Uhh, okay."
"How's Mrs. Kent? The farm?" As if, all of a sudden, he would start confiding in me like he used to in Smallville.
"She's as good as can be," Clark responded tersely. "The farm's holding up." That was all he was prepared to offer. "... My sources tell me that there's a chance if the city refuses the pay hike, the cops might stage a wildcat strike ..." He went back to his comfort zone: work – effectively slamming the door on me.
Is it my fault? I had plans, too. My future does not depend on him! Clark also resented that I lost touch with Lana. But we all did. At least he called her up once in awhile. I did email her frequently during my freshman year. Attended her marriage to Whitney. After that ... I didn't have time. You can't go home again, I believed.
"Metro P.D." the cab driver announced.
Back to the present, Chloe. The news conference had already started.
"... we have formed an elite squad – detectives, SWAT teams, 100 extra patrolmen – to combat the rise in organized crime ..."
"Has this move been prompted by the attempted hit on the district attorney?" one reporter hollered.
The police chief paused. "We have always been committed to undermining the mob. The D.A. situation is a separate investigation."
Chloe shoved her way to the front. "By this show of force, Chief, are you declaring war on the mob?"
"Ms. Sullivan, over the past six months, I've had to bury eight constables. Only last week ..." the chief wiped his eyes, "...Constable Jenkins ... he left a wife and a little boy ... yes, you tell your readers and viewers ... Metropolis won't stand for this any longer! This isn't Gotham City. Rupert Thorne, your cronies and gangsters ... we're on your tail. Set up shop in our city ... and we will take you down!"
The next day announced Metropolis' battle cry.
In the Daily Planet:
'CHIEF O'REILLY DECLARES WAR ON THE MOB'
In the tabloid, the Inquisitor:
'CHIEF TELLS MOB BOSS THORNE: YOUR ASS IS MINE!!'
Even in the esteemed Gotham Times:
'METRO P.D. PLEDGES SWIFT ACTION AS GOTHAM CRIME BOSS THORNE EXPANDS MID- WEST OPERATIONS'
Rupert Thorne held court in the suburban hotel, the Radisson Metropolis West. The smoky Cabana Lounge.
"The Planet's been putting the heat on us since the raid on our body rub parlours," an associate grumbled.
"It's that blonde chick, their beat reporter," another associate downed his shot of whiskey, "the little bitch!"
"Chloe Sullivan, the Planet's feisty crime reporter," Rupert scanned the front page again. "They could have at least put a photo of me on the front."
Chloe is a problem. A problem that needed to be solved.
"Boys, you know what to do."
Sorry, Ms. Sullivan. Nothing personal.
It's just business.