Chapter Seven

Bruce held his arms up, palms facing outward to the crazed man. The man that identified himself as the Riddler was waving a shiny weapon that resembled a gun on steroids.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need, we can work this out just you and me."

"Oh Brucie," the Riddler swiped the air with his hand whimsically, "let's not play with my emotions. I'm in a very fragile state right now." He sniffed dramatically, even managing to squeeze out a single tear.

"Where was all this love when I just wanted a little respect, a teensy bit of recognition for my brilliance." The psycho carelessly waved the weapon around and landed its aim at Bruce. He pulled the trigger with no warning, intent on taking out his left leg. Superman sped to him only to find his way blocked by a small bundle that dropped from the ceiling to land directly in front of Bruce. The bundle recoiled slightly from the impact as the bullet hit it. The bundle unfolded gracefully to reveal the shape of a woman in a skin tight white suit complete with knee high white boots and white gloves. Her red hair shaped in a sleek bob, shorter in the back and longer in the front obscured most of her face and black wrap around shades obscured the rest of it. Gasps of wonder and surprise erupted as the crowd realized the tiny woman had just dropped 60 feet from the chandelier above and had been shot but was standing like the bone crushing events had never occurred.

"Seraphina!" The Riddler hissed out.

"I've read about you in the papers. Don't you think the title is a little, oh I don't know, extravagant? I mean really, God's highest angels, that's what you think of yourself?" She stayed silent and still.

"What are you doing here anyway? You are the darling of Metropolis, Gotham is my playground!" She swayed seductively towards him, his eyes following the motion of her hips, to be honest everyone was following the motion of her hips. He raised his weapon at her chest and trembled slightly when the action did not deter her movement. She reached one harmless hand to caress his cheek.

"The name," she whispered in his ear, "means the burning one." The Riddler gaped at her audacity right before clutching his head in pain. He fell to the floor screaming for help, his whole body felt like it was on fire starting from the inside. He gibberishly asked for God, and the devil and any powers that be to save him from this torment he had never known was possible. The fearsomely flamboyant man turned into a pitiful ball of flesh in a matter of seconds whose cries of agony made the most stoic of men shiver and turn away.

While everyone had been distracted by Seraphina's appearance, Superman had quickly and quietly taken out the two other armed men helping Riddler along with the two he found parked outside in the getaway car. Seraphina knelt next to the Riddler and touched him again, giving him the relief he had begged for. The pain she had given him coursed through her briefly though she gave no outward indication of it. Reaching into her left sleeve she pulled out a long, thin flat piece of plastic that had two holes in the center and zip cuffed his hands behind his back.

"That pain," she gently explained to him as she reached out and smoothed his brow, ignoring his attempt to avoid her touch, "is a small taste of what I can do. Think of me before you think of hurting another. Remember my kindness in giving you only a taste; I will never be this kind again." Expertly she disassembled his weapon and left the parts on his chest while he whimpered in fear. She turned and despite everyone's best efforts to track her, weaved her way through the crowd and disappeared.

Oliver was torn. He desperately wanted to follow the woman and ask her to join the JLA. She made her debut in Metropolis when she found the mob boss that had gone into hiding after killing Chloe Sullivan a few months back. When she turned him into the police, all he could blubber about was 'the burning' and she was henceforth dubbed 'Seraphina.' But he couldn't leave without making sure Chloe was okay. Where was she?

Lex was frantic, he couldn't find Chloe anywhere. He had his personal bodyguards scouring the crowd for the her for the past half hour but they had yet to locate her. Running a hand distractedly over his scalp, he pulled out his phone as it buzzed to let him he had a message. 'Left early, very tired. Talk later.' It was from Chloe, sharp bolts ran through his body even as relief coursed through him. She had left without him. She didn't need him, want him or love him. Part of him had hoped with a child's nativity that she would grow to love him or at least like him, but she hadn't. Why couldn't he let her go?

Superman changed quickly back into Clark Kent and went to check in with Bruce and Oliver. They were both trying to find Chloe so he told them she had gone home before the attack so they would not worry. She had kept his secret, he was not going to spill hers. He made his excuses as quickly as possible and then left to track down where Chloe was living.

Her head hung down, her shoulders were slumped. She always felt this vast emptiness right afterwards, no emotion, like the pain she gave and took away burned everything inside her so she was just a dead husk of her former self. She hated to hurt them, she wanted only to heal; but they just didn't learn any other way. Chloe always thought people were messed up everywhere and they all made mistakes and given time, understanding and help; they would get better. Then she learned she was wrong, they only respected power and understood fear. The full moon shone down turning her skin pearly and luminescent and her eyes a silver sea of sadness. Her first had been Nunzio Di Toro, of the Di Toro mob. She had healed his humanity that had been damaged through life and he was better for a while. He confessed to her everything and fed her information on his family's criminal activities. Her Dad came for a visit that weekend and she had been full of light and happy with life. She came back from a quick trip to the Daily Planet to find her apartment redecorated with the blood of her father. He lay on her black avant garde couch that he had helped her pick out, his stomach sliced open. She had read somewhere that bleeding out from the stomach was one of the most slow and painful ways to die. She had dug her hands into his guts trying to heal him for hours weeping and begging for him to come back to her. She relived the pain he had suffered over and over as she tried to call him back to life. And at her lowest moment, when she knew all hope was gone, Nunzio had stepped from the shadows and shot her in the heart. She was buried next to her father, she discovered that after clawing her way out of her grave. Lois was shocked when she contacted her but quickly agreed to let her use her identity, even though it meant her and Lois could never openly see each other again. She threw herself into her physical training with renewed vigor and had been reborn as Seraphina when in her rage she inadvertently transfered to Nunzio the pain he had given her father. Though he was not physically marked, he would have died from the pain and in her moment of despair and fury; she wanted him to. But she pulled the pain from him somehow, she didn't know what made her come back from the edge of damnation; she just found herself withdrawing what she had inflicted and taking it into herself.

Clark found her on the balcony, still as a statue, dressed only in a thin robe against the cold air, lost in her inner turmoil.

"Chloe?" She didn't look up, she gave no indication she had heard him.

"Its Lois Clark, you should get used to it." She looked at him then and he wished she hadn't, the horrors there threatened to overtake him and then she blinked and her eyes were clear. Maybe he had just imagined it, his Chloe would never look so bleak, so hard.

"Seraphina huh?" She grimaced and he hoped that had not been what she thought passed for a smile. Chloe's smiles were brighter than the sun and had always warmed his heart in his darkest times.

"You know the media, they like to name things." Absently, she stared off into the night once more.

"Are you okay?"

"Is anyone anymore?" She gave him that choked half smile again.

"Sorry Clark, I'm in a weird mood again. You always seem to catch me in those." A slightly less feeble smile appeared.

"Tell me all about your time away. A year with Jor-El, sounds like good times?"

"Definitely not. I learned a lot though and he's not as bad as I thought he would be."

"Yea, I see you've got that flying thing down real well. Would you like to come onto the solid floor of the balcony now or are you still showing off?" Clark looked down to find himself still hovering in front of her on the floor-less side of the ledge.

"Sorry, I forget sometimes that I'm not on the ground." He floated effortlessly up and over to settle next to Chloe.

"So, how have you been?" Clark looked at her too keenly and she shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Life has been...well its just been...life, I suppose." A far away look came into eyes and he had lost her again. He gently placed both hands on either side of her shoulders and pulled her to him, he was afraid of where her mind kept going. She snapped back to the present and shook herself out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry I'm not much company right now, maybe we could catch up another time?"

"Chlo, I know you're still angry with me for leaving, but you're my best friend, we tell each other everything. Just talk to me."

"A lot changes in a year, I missed you Clark and I'm glad you're back but we aren't what we used to be." She turned away from him, hiding her face in the shadows.

"No amount of time will ever change the way I feel about you. Chloe you are everything to me, it killed me to have to leave you, but I did so I could become what you always wanted me to be. I have the strength and the knowledge to be a real hero now. But I never intended my quest to sacrifice us. I won't let it sacrifice us, it has always been you and me and that is the way it will always be." He smiled reassuringly.

"I'm not the girl you left behind Clark. I'm not helpless, I don't need rescuing. I worked my ass off to get strong, I've learned to control my powers, I can't even be killed anymore. I don't need saving!" She hissed the last words at him. Clark could see her control slipping, revealing a feral bitter version of the girl he loved.

"What happened!" He demanded trying to push her to talk to him, to open up like she had always been able to do. She launched herself at him, hands punching, legs kicking.

"Its not your business what happened. You weren't there Clark, you have no business knowing." Clark tried to dodge all her hits so that she wouldn't hurt herself, when she landed a punch and he heard the crunch of her bones he lost his patience and pinned her against the wall.

"Chloe, you're hurting yourself. Please stop, I love you, it tears me apart to see you like this." All the fury left her body and she hung limply in his grasp.

"You have no business" she whispered brokenly. His face was inches from hers and for reasons she couldn't comprehend she closed the distance and kissed him. She kissed him desperately, hungrily, like her life depended on her fusing her lips with his. It seared through him like fire and brought his body to life in a way he had never felt. She parted her lips and Clark plunged his tongue into her mouth, sweeping and tasting everything in his path. There tongues danced with each other for an eternity. He thought he would surely die from the pleasure and passion between them and didn't care. Chloe broke off the kiss when her lungs felt like they would burst from deprivation of oxygen.

"Take me inside." She growled silkily into his ear and wrapped her legs around his waist as he sped them into her apartment.