[A/N - This week I'd like to recommend the first five chapters of "Changed for Good" by The Patriette. It's an excellent account of the events beginning from the defeat of Zod and ending with Clark's appearance at the Daily Planet. Enjoy!

Also, I went back to the previous chapter and eliminated Jimmy and added Jenny Jurwich and Steve Lombard plus a few more details here and there. Changed Superman to Kal-El. No major plot changes.]

Thanks to his super hearing, Clark has known about the GPS tracking device all along and has been keeping an eye on it. He notices right away as soon as it is missing from Lois's pocket.

As soon as Diana has left to take Lois and her bike back to Metropolis, Clark quickly locates the device and crushes it between his thumb and forefinger, then heat-zaps it just to be sure. He carries it out over the ocean and releases it, hovering to watch as the tiny sparkle of silver drops down, down, down, finally hitting the water with a rather unsatisfying "sploosh." The threat of being tracked has been completely eliminated, but the sting of betrayal remains. He's having a hard time believing that Lois would do such a thing. Perhaps he was right long ago when he decided that although humans are fragile and need his protection, they cannot be entrusted with his heart; they always turn against him in the end.

Clark makes a beeline for the Arctic. He flies into a glacier, slamming it hard. As he makes impact, he yells out loud, "HA!" as he watches the face of it break to pieces and fall all around him. He slams into it again, thrusting his shoulder deep into the solid ice. The glacier gives way, and he finds himself on the other side. The top of the glacier is wobbling. "ARRRR!" he roars, rising and slamming into it head-first. He knocks it to the ground where it splinters into countless fragments across the whiteness covering the permafrost. He is as a driven man. That glacier must go! He rises up again and again, slamming into it until there is nothing left to indicate that it ever existed.

Finally spent, he slumps down onto the ice. He is truly alone. Just when he thought there was hope, that there was someone for him, someone who truly cared about him, he had to go and ruin everything. He misses her trust, her selfless devotion, her reassurance and support. Mostly, though, he just misses her. Before she came along, he was doing just fine on his own. Sure, he was lonely, but it didn't ache this badly. He was getting by. He had resigned himself to his lot. But now...

He could go to the Fortress, but confiding in a hologram suddenly seems too pathetic.

****Flashback*****

It's the first day of the new school year. Young Clark is about to begin his homework. Martha Kent calls from the front door. "Clark, your friend Hans is here. He wants to know if you can come out and play."

Clark grabs his jacket and runs for the door. "Hi, Hans!"

When Hans and his family had first come to Smallville that summer, Clark had helped him practice English, and since then they had spent many pleasant hours at the Kent farm.

"Let's go see the horses," Hans suggests.

As they walk, Clark enthuses about the new colt that was born the previous night. "My folks are letting me keep him. I haven't decided on a name yet."

Suddenly, several boys jump out and form a circle around Clark, giving Hans a "high five" as they pass him.

"What you gonna do, huh?" The biggest boy of the bunch runs up and shoves Clark's shoulder, then rejoins the others.

The next boy who steps in decides to try punching, first lightly and then harder. Clark has to will himself to subtly yield a little so the boy's hand is not broken. "Hit me back. Come on, hit me."

A few others try, each more daring than the last. One of them pushes Hans into the circle. "Go ahead, kick him. Nothing will happen." Hans timidly swings his foot in Clark's direction. The other boys keep urging him. "Harder!" Hans kicks harder, then turns and runs back to join the others.

Clark allows himself to be thrown to the ground where he remains until the boys finally stop kicking and insulting him.

"Such a loser," one of them scoffs, turning to go.

Clark waits until all of his tormenters are gone, then he straightens up and wipes himself off. His shirt is filthy and torn. He heaves a sigh. His parents can ill afford another shirt, but something else hurts even more.

*****Dinner with Friends*****

Clark shakes away the daydream. Suddenly, he remembers Diana's invitation. He could really use a friend right now. He speeds back to Washington DC, still in his Kryptonian garb.

At the clubhouse, Diana greets him with a warm smile. She's changed into a more conservative turtleneck and trousers; her long, wavy black tresses have been pulled back into an austere pony tail. Behind her glasses, she is still tall, lovely, and graceful, almost regal. "Come in."

She leads Clark through to a sizable, formally set dining table. Leaning casually against a nearby wall is none other than the billionaire Bruce Wayne. "He's the friend who owns the satellite I mentioned."

Clark shakes his hand. "Good to meet you, sir. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We heard of the recent alien attacks on Metropolis and Smallville. We wish to extend our gratitude for saving our planet, but we also want to ascertain that you yourself are not a danger to humanity."

"I assure you, Mr. Wayne, I have only earth's best interests at heart."

Diana approaches and faces him. Up close, it is difficult not to notice how beautiful she is. "I would like to ask a few questions." She is proffering one end of the shiny cord that has been hanging at her side. "This Lasso causes people to tell the complete truth. Do you trust me?"

Clark isn't sure why, but he's willing to take the chance. He reaches out and takes hold of the cord. "I do. I trust you. And … you are amazing."

As she tightens the Lasso around him, he finds himself gazing steadily into her eyes. He is realizing just how achingly lonely he has been, misunderstood, mistrusted and mistreated again and again. But Diana can be trusted completely. He will gladly do anything for her.

Diana gets right to the point. "Who are you, and what are your intentions?"

"I am Kal-El, son of Jor-El of Krypton. I was adopted as a small child and raised on earth as a human. As for my intentions, I mean no harm. I hope to help those who are in danger, to inspire people to do their part to help others in need."

"Where can we find you, Kal-El?" She prompts.

"I live in Metropolis. My name is ..."

Diana places a hand over his lips, and pulls the Lasso away. "Enough," she says.

She removes her hand, but the sensation lingers. Clark takes a deep breath to steady himself. Wow, she is really something.

"Do forgive the intrusion on your privacy, but I had to be certain who we were dealing with." Her apology is further confirmation of her inherent goodness.

She nods toward the food. "Please, have some dinner."

Taking her cue, Clark and Bruce seat themselves.

Clark serves himself some meatloaf, then sets the serving platter near Mr. Wayne. "Here you are, sir," he says, and reaches for the mashed potatoes and gravy.

"Call me Bruce," the gentleman responds, serving himself some as well. "How likely do you suppose another alien attack would be?"

"To tell the truth, for the past 33 years I never met anyone from any other planet; in fact, I only recently learned of my own origin. But my planet is gone, and as far as I know, I am the only remaining survivor." He looks over at their hostess. "Diana, this gravy is almost as good as my mom's."

"Yes. Well," Bruce seems to be addressing the corncob he's buttering. "I'm always looking for ways to put my resources to good use. I'll be retooling my satellites to watch for threats from above as well as below. How about you? Are you working on anything in particular?"

"I am, in fact. Two men who helped defend earth have been trapped in the Phantom Zone, a Kryptonian prison in space. I have to get them out of there."

"How can we help?"

Clark nods in Diana's direction in silent appreciation for the corn. "Bruce, the vortex that sent them there was created by my ship's phantom drive. The drive sustained damage in the recent battle, so it needs repair. I'm given to understand that there's a way to send me in and then bring the three of us back. It requires coding the drive to lock onto my vital signs, and reversing the phantom drive's polarity to change the direction of the vortex at my signal. So I also need a way to send a signal back here through the vortex. I could use someone able to ramp up quickly with alien technology to make all of that happen. Also, I hope to use the footage Diana gave me to help me improve my fighting skills so I can survive in the Zone."

"Fighting skills?" Diana interjects. "I am a warrior. The clubhouse has a large meeting room I can use for your training."

"You?" Clark is incredulous. She's not only intoxicating, but a warrior as well?

"Yes," Bruce says thoughtfully. "You could train him, but this location has been compromised. Lois Lane, the Daily Planet reporter who was here earlier, was concealing a GPS tracking device. Some men came around asking questions shortly before you arrived. We need to move to a more secure place."

"Move the Amazons Motorcycle Club?" Clark has not seen evidence of any motorcycles or anything related to biking anywhere around. It doesn't look like this clubhouse has been frequented by a large number of people, either. Not in a long time.

"The training facility. I need to revamp the surveillance satellites anyway, as I mentioned, to keep an eye out for future alien threats, present company excepted. It wouldn't be any trouble to add a room or two to one of them, and you'll be safe there from prying eyes."

For a moment, Clark can't think how to respond to such an incredibly off-the-wall suggestion. "I wouldn't have a problem getting up there, and I could even help you transport additional modules and attach them, but how would it be practical for you and Diana to get to and from a satellite? And how can such a large facility orbit the planet undetected?"

Bruce seems almost amused. "Leave that to us," he says. "Meanwhile, have you seen any suspicious activity around the subways lately?"

Clark laughs. "And here I thought we wouldn't have much to say to each other!" When no one else smiles, he continues. "I've heard of the recent accidents, yes, but I haven't seen anything yet to explain them. I hope this doesn't hurt your business too much."

As they rise to clear the table, Bruce is quickly back to his affable self. "The competition will probably have a heyday. But I've got my best men on it."

Just then, Bruce's cell phone rings. He excuses himself and takes the call in an adjoining room. "Yes, Alfred."

Clark isn't trying to eavesdrop, but the voice on the other end comes through loud and clear. "It's the bat signal. You're needed right away, sir."

"I'll be on my way."

Bruce reappears and hands Clark a business card. "Call me tonight," he urges. "We can get started on the Phantom Drive tomorrow."

He nods to their hostess. "Thank you for the excellent dinner. Do excuse the abrupt departure."

"No problem at all," Diana assures him graciously. "See you tomorrow."

As the door closes behind Bruce Wayne, Clark smiles to himself. So that was Batman.

He puts his plates in the dishwasher and turns reluctantly to go. "Thanks for the dinner," he says.

"My pleasure."

The tiny bat-shaped tracking device affixed to the lining of his cape goes undetected as he bids Diana farewell and takes to the skies.