Clark was uncertain if he had found the right place far after he committed to wandering in. He usually double, triple checked his addresses to make sure he didn't zip across Metropolis needlessly, especially on his short lunch break. He had been cautious when he slipped out of the Daily Planet bullpen, keeping in mind what Chloe had asked him about colleagues watching him disappear. As he thought, no one was watching him remotely.

Winston's building was located in the upper financial district of Metropolis, on the edge of the city, not far from the gallery opening a few nights prior. It looked like an old warehouse, with the original brick beside the parts that were hanging on their last leg. The paved pathway to the inset doors were lined with squared hedges and cut that still pricked at the nostrils. Clark stepped through the door that was held ajar, revealing a space with a diverse collection of art work, although more pared down than the opening. He asked a young woman, who was carefully unwrapping a piece he recognized from before, for Winston's office to which she led him to another doorway, and pointed straight. She patted him on the shoulder and returned to her desk.

The hallways were dimly lit by a row of inset lighting, illuminating the brick texture that followed to the inside. Clark came upon a dark brown door with gold knobs and tapped the surface with his knuckles. A muffled voice welcomed him inside.

"Clark, you found me." Winston sat back in his tufted chair. Clark shut the door gently and walked closer to the desk. "What brings you?" He crossed his hands on the desk. Clark set the watch on the marble surface.

"I have to return this." He swallowed. Winston stared down at the watch and smirked. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept it."

"It's a gift." Winston rubbed his chin and finally looked Clark in the face.

"I know and I appreciate it, but I can't." Clark said. He put his hands in his pockets, not wanting to make eye contact. Winston was silent in a painstaking moment then pushed out of his chair carefully. He sat on the corner of the desk near Clark. He lifted a pocket watch from his inner pocket, the gold chain polished and shining.

"My grandfather gave me this to my father when my dad bought his first house. He wore it with everything from his best suits to the clothes he lounged in. When I was 18, I received it." He pushed the button for the lock to open. "I could never understand why my father gave it to me. All the men in my family had done great things; I was barely making it as an assistant. I lost it a few times, broke it, soiled it. But my dad never took it back because he wanted me to have it." He set the pocket watch on the desk and crossed his hands.

Winston continued, "Clark, you don't have to wear it – you can strike it against a rock to make a bonfire if you choose to. But there's no one I'd rather have it than you. You earned it." Winston lifted watch from the table and held it out. Clark took it and held it in his hands.

"I'll let you get back to what you were doing." Clark said.

"Wait." He stood, holding a burgundy box from his drawer. "I'm sure you're aware I've taken a liking to you." He handed Clark the box. "I want you to join the Sartos Brotherhood." Clark opened the velvet box and found a ring similar to the ones at the party.

"Thank you." Clark closed the box and dropped his hands.

"Think about it." Winston walked Clark to the door and waved him goodbye.

Clark stared down at the pasta sitting in water on the stove. His mom always told him that if he watched it, it wouldn't boil. For a long time, he believed it to be true until he learned that it would boil regardless. It just seemed that way because you're watching it – in the same vein as clockwatching. It was just her way of telling him she wanted him out of the kitchen. He sighed but it was to distract him. He had invited Chloe over for dinner and to talk about what Winston's proposal.

"I'm here!" Chloe announced happily, shutting the door with the hand that wasn't holding groceries. She tossed her purse on the couch and plopped the bag on the counter next to him. She began pulling out produce and put the bag in the trashcan. She grinned up at him and set the cutting board and vegetables on the island. They finished up and brought the pasta and salad to the dining table. Clark took a first bite after putting a napkin in his lap and smirked.

"This taste like my mom's." Chloe chuckled and took a bite.

"Your mom and I enjoy long, fruitful conversations." She chewed, smiling. They made small talk throughout their meal. Chloe stacked their plates and pushed it to the side. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What?" Clark glanced at her from the plates.

"You've been kind of distant this whole night." he propped her head on her hand and smiled politely. Clark licked his lips and reached into his pocket.

"Winston wants me to join the Brotherhood."

"The Brotherhood? Sartos is his brotherhood?" she squinted.

"Technically." He handed Chloe the engraved ring. "His great-great-grandfather began it with the others who studied with him." She looked at it, turning it over in her hands.
"What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it." he sat back in his chair. His ring had the unique crest on the top, but it was shiny burnished silver between the groves instead of the burgundy background.

"Hmm. It's not like the other ones I saw." she dropped it back into his hands.

"Maybe you get upgraded." She chuckled and took the plates to the sink.

"Maybe." He set the ring on the table and pushed out his chair. "I can't join a brotherhood. That's not…me." He crossed his arms as Chloe swiveled and leaned on the counter.

"It might be fun. Oh come on. It'll be just like when you were on the football team. A group driven by pure testosterone; what more can you ask for?" Clark chuckled and looked down at her.

"I saw the type of people who were at the exhibit. I'm a farmer from a small town with 'small' even in the title. What could I possibly have in common with them?"

"You're also a fledging vigilante-hero and rising reporter. It might make life fun." Clark shifted uncomfortably.

"My life is fine."

"But not fun." She said flatly. He pushed off from the counter and walked into the living room. Chloe joined him.

"Fun isn't a luxury I can afford."

"You're not even thirty yet. Live a little." Chloe frowned. "You may not believe it, but those cows and chickens don't need you 24/7."

"Chloe, I have a responsibility." He stared straight. Chloe relaxed the tenseness that was forming in her shoulders. She slid her arm across his bulky shape.

"All I'm saying is that you being 'The Blur' shouldn't be a crutch to living." They sat in comfortable silence. She glanced down to the coffee table. There was an invitation with the crest stamped on it. "So…do you need me to be your fiancée anytime soon?" she tilted her head towards the card.

"Not this time. It said "Members only"." He read from the invitation on the table. "It's at that gentleman's club in Metropolis." Chloe nodded and stretched
out her legs.

"I see how that could be awkward." She commented. "When is it?"

"Tonight." He answered indifferently. Chloe looked over at him slight shock.

"Tonight? Clark why did you invite me over if you had somewhere to go?"

"I wanted to see you. And besides, I don't think I'm going to go." He sunk into the couch.

"Would it entice you if you did it for me?" She raised her eyebrows. Clark slowly faced her, staring at her with an odd expression. He wasn't sure how to approach this situation.

"I'm not sure I follow." He said slowly, never taking his eyes from her.

"Don't look at me like that - it isn't some weird fantasy of mine. The crest design was found on a possible murder victim and I was thinking maybe you could flash your smile until you get some answers from members. It might be a good story for you and it will really ease this curiosity of mine. What do you say?"

"Chloe, I can't. That last time I went, Lois gave me a lap dance and it freaked me out." he scrunched up his face at the memory. Lois was nice-looking, but it was too close for comfort.

"You don't have to participate in anything, you just have to schmooze. Big brownie points for living it up too." Chloe shrugged casually. When she saw that Clark wasn't budging, she sighed. "Look, I would go with you if I could."

"All right." He nodded. Chloe beamed and hopped up.

"Now let's go get you ready." She grabbed his hand and yanked him up the stairs with unexpected strength. Clark left the farm shortly after, dropping Chloe off at the Talon before continuing on. He checked both sides of the sidewalk before emerging from the alley next to it. He stared at the building, feeling mildly embarrassed for being there. He straightened his back and pushed open the large intricate doors. He stood awkwardly near the entrance until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Clark." Clark looked to his side and saw a bearded man holding a martini between the spaces of his fingers. "I'm Stephen. We're in here." He led Clark through the performance room to a subtly lit hallway. He opened one of the black padded doors for Clark to reveal a lounge area. Across the room, Winston was at a booth seat with different bottles of wine sitting on the table. He noticed Clark coming in.

"Clark. Sit." Winston offered the seat next to him at the booth. Clark sat down, ordering water from an attractive waitress. He thanked her for the water and sipped it slowly. "Not a drinker?"

"Not really, no." Clark chuckled. "Listen, Winston, I don't have an answer."
"That's fine. There's no rush Clark." Winston smirked kindly and sipped his Merlot, savoring the notes. He noticed Clark surveying around the room quietly. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just…don't normally go to places like this." Clark watched a woman in a pink-checkered mini bodysuit walk by.

"I don't doubt it. I'm impartial myself, but they serve some of the finest wine in Metropolis." He swished the burgundy wine in his glass. Winston questioned Clark about farm life, having never lived in a rural area. As Clark detailed things he found mundane, Stephen walked over, excusing himself. He whispered something to Winston and waited as Winston stood up from the booth.

"If you'll excuse me, I must tend to some business. Do try to enjoy yourself Clark." Winston and Stephen left out the padded doors, speaking closely with each other. Clark watched men standing together in conversation or treating some of the workers at the club.

"Hello handsome." A sultry voice broke into his people-watching. He looked up to see a tall woman with black wavy hair. She slid into the seat next to him and leaned into him.

"Hi." Clark said politely. She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Tinkerbell."

"Tinkerbell?"

"My real name's Veronica, but I've been known to work magic." She twirled her hair while she surveyed his body. She scooted closer to him. "But you can call me anything you like." Tinkerbell whispered in his ear, pressing her bosom against his shoulder. She kissed his temple.

"Veronica's fine."

"Where's your ring?" She stroked his hand, making circles on his knuckles.

"At home. With my fiancée." He said quickly, with a small hope that that would deter her advances.

"Oh. How long have been engaged?"

"A year." He gulped down the last of his water and set it on the table. He felt her hand grazing his thigh. He stopped her hand and held it on the table. "I really don't need your…services."

"Oh come on. I'll do whatever your girl won't." She slipped her hand from under his and rubbed across his chest. "It's a shame you're hiding that body."

"Thank you. I'm happy with her and all the things she does. Quite happy." He nodded and checked his watch. "I should probably be leaving soon. She's expecting me."

"You just got here." She glanced at his watch. "It's still early." Veronica tried to persuade him, working harder than she usually did. Clark tensed up, thinking of what to say. She saw his anxiety and decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"You must really love her." She moved her arm from behind him and sat straight. "I used to love someone like that." She reminisced slightly. "Come with me." she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her but Clark resisted.

"It'll take a second." She had a serious expression on her face. Veronica led him to one of the other private rooms and shut the door. "Why are you here?" She said without leaving the door.

"I was invited." He said, slightly annoyed at her question.

"No, with these people." she spoke without looking at him, her face hidden behind her flowing hair.

"Why not?" He asked. Veronica faced him slowly and walked towards him.

"You don't belong." She threw her hands out. "You turned me down to go back home. No one does that. Not here." She made a circle around him and crossed her arms. "And they really don't leave their rings with a woman."

"What does it matter?" He looked over his shoulder at her. She walked up to him.

"It's in the rules. You just don't do it." she had a spiteful tone, repeating the very thing that had once been said to her. "You're placing your loyalty in something else." She glowered at the door, shifting her weight on one leg. She took a moment and returned to his face. Her gray eyes were softened.

"You're really too decent. Get out while you can." She kissed him on the cheek and left out. Clark followed, watching her saunter away down the hall. He went the opposite way and exited the building.

"What did you tell him?" Stephen threw Veronica roughly into the room she brought Clark into earlier.

"Don't worry about it. Okay?" She scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Answer me!" He screamed, his nostrils flaring, fists balled.

"I told him he doesn't belong in Sartos." Veronica said the name with disdain. Her stomach always turned when she was in his presence. She wasn't scared of him as a person, only fearful of what he could and would do.

"Why not?" Stephen lowered his voice.

"He's not a slimeball like you and the others. He's actually decent and worth having around."

"As if you know what's decent slut." Stephen gritted. Veronica threw her arms down.

"You can't talk to me like that!" His raised his hand, causing her to flinch. She could still feel the stinging from last time. She glared at him from the corner of her eye as he leaned closer to her and yanked her chin to face him.

"I got you here; I can talk to you however I want. And I can do even more if you don't keep your mouth shut." He growled and stood back. Veronica clenched her jaw. She was itching to break his nose and knew she could get away with it, for now. Instead she gathered her things and walked to the door.

"My lips are sealed." She slammed the door behind her.

***Hope you enjoyed it!***