2

Clark groaned and threw the latest edition of The Torch down on Chloe's desk. "When did you even have time to do this?"

"Gee, Clark, and it's great to see you too." She looked down at the front page and perused her own headline. Then, she quirked her head up at him. "Whatever happened to that time-tested standard of 'thank you?'"

"Thank you?" He yelled, gesturing back at the paper. "What the Hell?"

She rolled her eyes. "What? You don't like being the biggest thing to hit Smallville High since the cafeteria rat scare of last year?"

Clark sighed and sat down on the edge of the desk. "It's not that-and you're sure those rats are gone now?"

"Positive."

"Anyway, I know I agreed to take the credit for everything, but I thought that you meant that I should just tell an edited version to our parents and the EMTs. I didn't think you'd make a headline out of it."

"Please, do you know me? The favorite son of Metropolis escapes death thanks to the intervention of a Smallville High student and you expect me not to put it in The Torch, especially when I had a front row seat to everything."

He narrowed his eyes. "That's because you were the one who did all the rescuing."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Shh! You promised, besides it looks a little biased if I'd have written about my heroics, not to mention a whole violation of my 'under the radar' policy."

"Yeah, but still, I don't know if I want all the attention."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "So small town hero doesn't appeal to you?"

"It's not that exactly. I mean, it's sort of nice someone notices me aside from the glares I sometimes get from the football team."

"By glares you mean those donations of yours to the Bret and Fitz Lunch Money Foundation?"

"Fine. So it's a little bit more than being glared at," He conceded. "Still, I don't think I like this much attention. I swear twenty kids must have stopped me in that hall from Chem class to here asking if it were true, and I didn't even know any of them."

"Probably seniors." She shrugged. "Don't worry, Homecoming's in two days. The Crows will fly to victory or whatever it is they do, and you'll be a faint footnote in school year history."

"Yeah, well, being mobbed still sucks."

"It's not that bad. It's not like they're asking for autographs."

He brightened at that. "You think they would?"

"See now the attention's not so bad when you have a chance to go all Hollywood."

"Whatever. I wish you'd warned me first. Seriously, didn't you go home after all the ambulances left?"
She shook her head. "After that edited down version for my dad-you know, the one where we just dove right in after watching the accident from a safe distance-I begged him to let me come back and finish up The Torch. It's the first official week back and I didn't want to start off my reign as editor with late editions."

"I think massive car accident would have been a sufficient excuse."

"Not at the Planet it wouldn't."

"So I see," He added, picking up the paper in question and glancing at the photo Chloe had taken of the accident scene with the paramedics gathered around Lex. She'd actually used the cell phones of one of the EMTs to not only call her dad but to beg him to bring her spare camera. The other one was, presumably, somewhere at the bottom of the river or, knowing Smallville, in the belly of a poodle-sized toad.

One never knew.

"It's a nice shot, right?"

"Pete would have done it better."

"Not from five miles away."

"Point noted." He said, folding the paper back down. "So, you didn't mention anything real about our adventure to your dad?"

"Hardly. He's very overprotective about everything-"

"Which is why he always lets you pull late nights over here."

"Okay," she amended. "He's overprotective about me and my abilities. He knows I can handle myself when I'm out at, shock of shocks, ten o'clock working here, but he gets nervous about exposure." She added, casting him a significant look.

"Oh, so you didn't want to mention me."

"Kind of. It's a lot of things. There's sort of a prep before I reveal any new powers to my dad. Usually the cooking of waffles is involved."

"Really?"

"Well last time there was. The first two things popped up when I was too little to understand the intricacies of the waffle iron."

"Two? How many abilities do you have?" Clark asked, wide-eyed.

"Well there's the strength."

Clark thought back to the torn Porsche. Yup, she was definitely strong. "Yeah, thanks for pushing me twelve feet by the way."

"You do suck at 'thank yous,' don't you?" She added, shaking her head. "I could have just let the car hit you."

"You wouldn't have, but maybe next time a little less force, huh?"

"So there's going to be a next time?"

"Probably, someone needs to be on deck for when those poodle-frogs show up."

"I hear that they aren't carnivorous."

"Well that's a relief. So, strong's one."

"I'm fast too. You might have noticed that if you weren't all 'deer in the headlights' when the Porsche came barreling our way."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have been distracted by imminent death like that."

"Sorry about the pushing. Even with my speed there wasn't a lot I could do besides push you out of the way and wait to be hit."

He tapped at his still bandaged right ankle. "No worries. It all worked out, but it's a good thing you're invulnerable."

She teased her lower lip between her teeth. "That would be the new one. I didn't know I was invulnerable until I didn't die."

Clark gulped. "Jeez, Chlo, what were you thinking? You had plenty of time to jump out of the way."

"And then you would have been smooshed. See how that was not the best option there?"

She smiled up at him, something so deeply sincere in her gaze. It overwhelmed him. Chloe'd been his best friend besides Pete for over a year now, but he'd never thought of her as anything more than that. The devoted gaze she was giving him now made him begin to wonder if he'd been missing something. He reached out and gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just remember that next time I need someone to interview the entomology club, you are so nominated."
"Well when you put it that way, I am not going to let you save me next time." He said, chuckling. "So, which power was the one where you made waffles?"

Chloe stood up and reached for her digital camera. "That's a story for another time."

"Oh, come on."

"It's a good one, I promise, but doesn't a girl get to have a few surprises?"

"'A few surprises?'"

"Okay, so I have a few more than most girls, but a little mystery never hurt."

"Uh-huh." He said, following her out the door. "Where are we headed to now?"

"I am throwing our conquering hero a bone."

"Are you now?" Clark asked, frowning down at her.

"Yeah, I have to run an article on the new cheerleading squad."

"You have to?"

"Kwan wants all the big pieces for tomorrow to be about the game. Pete's football round-up is going to be there and I have one of my other minions working on coverage of the soccer game. I tried to beg out of the pom-pom beat because, honestly, how interesting is it that they can spell words out loud. I mean, 'Crows' only has five letters, but Kwan didn't see it that way. Said I had poor school spirit."

"Imagine that."

"So, since I am physically incapable of not snarking around girls parading around like something out of a bad '80s music video, and since snark won't get quotes, I'm dragging you along to keep me on track."

"Chloe," he added grinning back at her. "I think I love you for this."

She rolled her eyes. "Wait until volleyball season rolls around."

Clark had to give Chloe one thing. This early in September it was still unbearably hot outside. Sweat was poring down off the back of his neck as he stood by the bleachers, waiting for the cheerleaders to take a break. Off to the far side of the field, he could make out Pete in the middle of a huddle. Shaking his head, he looked over his friend's pads. God, he must have been roasting in it.
"Still think you wanna play football?" Chloe teased.

He blinked. "You're not psychic now, too, are you?"

"God no, but you, my friend, are so transparent that telepathy isn't even necessary. You're concentrating awfully hard on that huddle."

"Maybe a little," he said, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. "I think you were right about the two-a-days. It's like an oven out here."

"One, that's a cliché, shame on you. Two, it is not that hot." She quipped, smiling sweetly up at him.

Clark glowered back. Chloe was completely dry with not even a bead of sweat rolling down her temples. He was pretty sure it was just a her thing since, even if women were supposed to "glow" instead of sweat, most of the cheerleaders practicing looked like they'd just gone swimming.

Stupid and yet wonderfully convenient heat wave.

After all, the head cheerleader was quite a sight to see with the dark rim of sweat pooling at the neck line of her t-shirt and drawing attention to her breasts. A loud clap sounding in his ears brought Clark's attention back to the real world.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought you along. I was counting on you for some insightful interview questions but I doubt you'll be able to talk around all that drool."

"Har-har, Chlo."

She glanced at her watch. "Alright, enough of the polite. I have a deadline for this puppy and they aren't going to get any more literate."

"Harsh."

"C-R-O-W-S!" She shouted, mock valley girl accent clear in her voice. "See was the spelling all that hard?"

"Well, there does happen to be a lot of coordination and a few dangerous back flips and pyramids here and there too. It's not just about screaming the word 'go' over and over." Lana said as she stepped over to the water cooler.

Chloe muttered something under her breath and then to Lana added. "Sorry to interrupt practice."

"You're not." Lana said, shaking her head. Clark was momentarily mesmerized by all her shiny hair. "We had to take a break and rehydrate anyway. It wouldn't do any good for all the girls to pass out before the big game on Saturday."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Chloe agreed.

Lana gave her a tight smile and turned away from the cooler to face them both. "So, you have questions, right?"

"Yeah, um, well first we wanted to know how you, um, oh jeez." He fumbled. Talking to the Lana had seemed so much better when he thought he'd actually be able to get a sentence out.

Lana giggled. "It's okay, Clark. Take your time."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Maybe even we could do a little quid pro quo."

"Huh?"

"A tit-for-tat, Clark." Chloe corrected.

"Exactly," Lana added, her smile widening. Staring at all those pearly whites, Clark was convinced that she would have made a fortune as a model for toothpaste commercials. She stepped right up to him and draped her hand over his forearm, as she stepped up, Chloe took a very deliberate step back.

If Lana noticed, she didn't say anything.

However, Clark doubted that she had. Instead, she was staring right back at him and not in the polite, I-sort-of-know-you way she did sometimes across the hall. No, this was the lean and hungry look he'd resigned himself to only seeing in his dreams.

"I heard about the accident. Did you really save Lex's life?"

Clark glanced quickly to Chloe who nodded back at him. "Ah, yeah, I guess so, but it really wasn't a big deal or anything."

"Not a big deal? You saved the life of one of the richest men in the country. That's a huge deal. I mean, even the Planet mentioned it this morning."

Chloe snorted this time and mumbled something he barely discerned as "Like you can even recognize the Planet, let alone read it."

Lana, however, remained oblivious to the snark and leaned in closer to him. "My Aunt Nell and Lionel have been, um, friends for years. I think it's so cool how you saved Lex."

"Oh, do you know him?"

"I bumped into him at a party once. It was…memorable." She said. "Still, it is just so amazing. Everyone in school is talking about it."

"Well, yeah, there might have been a few questions at lunch and stuff."

"You know, Clark, I was just thinking."

"Did it hurt?" Chloe whispered from her corner.

By this point, Clark had decided that Lana either needed a hearing aid or was deliberately ignoring Chloe. She leaned even closer toward him and he could feel her breasts pressed against the bottom of his chest. Oh boy.

"What, um, what were you thinking?"

"Well, we've lived only a mile apart our whole lives and we've never really talked. Don't you think that's weird?"

"Um, well, my mom doesn't really like Nell all that much."

"I know but we've been in school together forever and I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had."

It was. It beat there old record holder where Clark asked her for a spare pen in Biology class and she'd handed it off to him by like a dozen sentences. "Yeah, it is."

"I think that's too bad. Hey, you know what we should do to fix that?"

"Talk more?"

Off to his right, Chloe laughed.

"No, silly. I was thinking we could go to Homecoming together. You could tell me all about meeting Lex and everything and we could finally get to know each other."

It was official. At some point yesterday afternoon, probably the last five minutes before he'd left The Torch, he'd been pulled into the Twilight Zone. First, his best friend apparently had superpowers, then he became the hero of Smallville, and now Lana Lang- the Lana Lang -was asking him out. Oh god, maybe he'd actually been hit by the car and this was some warped coma-dream.
Of course, just on the off chance this was still reality, it would have been rude to say no. She asked so nicely.

"I'd…I'd love to."

Her smile widened so much that he swore he could see every tooth in her mouth. "Wonderful. You can come by my house at seven on Saturday and we can do dinner before the dance."

"What about Whitney?" Chloe asked.

Lana shook her head. "He's been so busy with all the preparing for the game, and, besides, things haven't been all that great between us since I started high school."

"Well, there is that bloom off the rose scenario now that you're not in eighth grade." Chloe quipped.

Lana narrowed her eyes at Chloe. "You had questions."

"Yeah, fine," Chloe said, pulling out her notebook and reading off the stock questions in record time. After a few awkward minutes of Chloe scribbling down Lana's quotes and Clark hovering over Chloe in a desperate effort to keep her civil, the interview was blessedly over.

Lana sighed and picked her pom-poms back up. "Well, it's been fun." Despite her words, her tone indicated that she'd rather have sat through an extra long geometry class instead of do the interview again. She smiled back up at him and he flushed. "Until Saturday, right Clark?"

"Yeah."

"Chloe," She said curtly, stepping around the other girl as she made her way to the field.

Clark was busy staring at her, ahem, assets as she walked away, when Chloe suddenly stumbled and fell into him. He caught her quickly and helped her limp over to the bleachers. She sat there for a few minutes, hunched over her knees, and gasping in deep breaths.

He picked up the dropped notebook and passed it back and forth between his hands as he waited for her to start breathing normally again. After her gasps stopped, he leaned over and asked, "Chlo? Are you alright."

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said, forcing herself into a sitting position. "Lana always makes me feel like that."

"Look I know you're all Daria when it comes to Lana Lang, but I don't think cheerleading causes people to hyperventilate."

"No. It's not like that at all. I mean whenever I'm close enough to her I feel really sick-nauseous, dizzy, the whole works. It's really weird too because the first time it happened I had no idea what it even meant."

"Huh?"

"I don't get sick either, not ever, but there's something about Lana that makes my stomach cramp up."

"I've never heard about someone being allergic to another person before."

She shrugged. "I've felt dizzy a few other times around town when she wasn't around so maybe it's something in Smallville. Maybe something in the soil around her yard or a special Fordman's fabric softener. Who knows?"

"Still, allergic to Lana. That is so weird."

"Gee, thanks."

"It just seems like a tragedy."

She rolled her eyes. "Not all of us worship at her pretty pink altar. Hey!" She said, snapping her fingers. "Maybe it's the color pink I'm allergic to."

"Yeah, that's likely."

"Well I can run from here to Metropolis and back in fifteen minutes. I could have an allergy to a color."

"Right." He said, pulling her notepad from her hands. "So, can we go ahead and work on putting the paper to bed because-"

"I have chores, I know. Invest in a new set of cue cards once in a while." Chloe chided as she started back through the stands and back to the school's main building. "You aren't really going to do it, are you?"

"Do what?"

"Go with Lana to Homecoming."

"Are you serious? Why don't you just ask me to return some lottery winnings while you're at it? I've been waiting for this for years, practically my whole life."

"I know." She said, her voice quiet and thoughtful. "And I'm happy you're happy but doesn't it seem a little sudden?"

"A lot of things have come on suddenly lately."

She rolled her eyes at that. "I'm serious. What about Whitney? Pete's probably the only thing keeping the football team from swirling you to death on a regular basis. If you steal the quarterback's girlfriend, they really are going to kill you."

"And she said that they weren't going to the dance together anyway. Can't you just be happy for me the one time? I mean, you're already going with Pete."

"Who I know likes me and not my media coverage. I can tell that by the fact we've actually had conversations."

"Lana and I talk."

"You had an interview. By that definition of talking, Larry King should be best friends with every celebrity and world leader on the planet by now."

"Fine. It's a little weird, I know, but maybe my luck is finally coming in." He said, glancing back to the football field. "It's about time, too."

"Well, that's good." She said, her voice slightly hollow. "Do you two want to double with me and Pete?"

"Sure, that'd be cool, but I'd have to drive over in the station wagon."

"Smallville Homecoming, not the Oscars. We'll live."

He chuckled. "Cool then. We can be over at Pete's by 7:30."

"Deal then." She added, holding out her palm.

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Give me the notebook. I'll type up the article and finish off the layout for tonight."

"Really? You were here late night last night."

Stopping, she sighed and turned to him. "I don't have chores and dad's been putting in late hours at the plant since we first moved here. It's been mismanaged in the past and he and Lex are working to fix it, but it's almost bankrupt."

"That sucks."
"Yeah, well, we have to eat so he has to work. I don't mind really. Dad's great about making weekends all about us, and it's not like I don't have late night editor duties. Besides," She added, laughing bitterly. "I still haven't figured out how to break it to him that there's one more person out there in on The Big Secret."

"I could always come over to dinner with you on Sunday. It's been a long time since I've had Gabe Sullivan's Famous Spaghetti."

"You know it's just Prego sauce, right?"

"But he's so proud of it." Clark shrugged. "We can't all cook like my mom."

"God, I wish my dad made pie that good. Now that's an ability." She smiled and pulled the notebook delicately out of his grip. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Of course and then we'll have a blast Homecoming night."

Her smile faltered for an instant as she nodded. "Exactly." Her grin widened and became more genuine after a minute. Arching her neck, she looked to her left and to her right before turning back to him. "Hey Clark?"

"What?"

"Watch this." She said and then she was gone, blurring away so fast that the only thing left behind was a stiff breeze.

He whistled. No that was fast .