A/N- Unbelievably short chapter compared to the mega-monster that was last chapter, but what can you do? This was written while on the Cousin Shore on Prince Edward Island, which I thought was sickeningly appropriate.
This chapter picks up the morning after we last saw Clark and Lois in the barn.
6. Competitors
"I just want to be living as I'm dying
Just like everybody here
Just want to know my little flicker of time is worthwhile."
-Vienna Teng
The little Italian cafe on Concord Lane, just six blocks from where the Daily Planet building rose up out of the city sprawl, was a godsend to many an overworked reporter. One young intern in particular was pretty sure it would be impossible to do her job without such a nearby source of the city's strongest coffee. On this particular afternoon, Chloe Sullivan was perched at one of the little tables on the sidewalk, sipping absentmindedly at her third espresso of the day and scowling at that morning's Daily Planet, currently opened to page two.
It was in this attitude that her best friend discovered her.
"Chloe?" Lana asked, surprised to see the little blonde. "I'd have thought you'd be at the Planet right now."
Chloe moved her eyes briefly from the paper in her hands to Lana's face. "I was supposed to meet Jimmy for lunch, but he's running late. What about you? What is Lana Lang doing in the city?"
Lana shrugged. "Lex's high school reunion is coming up in the few weeks, and he wants me to have a new dress, so I'm shopping."
"Man, it is so weird to think of Lex Luthor doing something as mundane as going to a high school reunion," Chloe remarked.
A knowing smile crossed Lana's features. "He's just a person like anybody else," she gently reminded her friend.
"Yeah, I know," Chloe said absently. She held up the paper in her hands. "Have you seen this morning's edition?"
"No, I haven't," Lana replied, taking the vacant seat opposite her friend. "Why?"
By way of response, Chloe turned the paper so the page she was reading would be visible to Lana. A bold page two headline proclaimed: Crimes Reveal New Twist in Green Arrow Mystery. The byline beneath the story belonged to none other than Lois Lane.
Lana skimmed the article and found herself impressed. Lois was one hell of a writer. "Wow," she said.
"I know," Chloe griped. "I spent weeks paying my dues at the Planet before anyone would even consider running one of my articles in Section D! Lois waltzes in with a story she dashed off in an hour, and it all but makes the front page!"
"It sounds like you're jealous," Lana observed.
"Jealous? Of Lois?" Chloe scoffed automatically. After a moment, however, she sighed, slumping a little in her chair. "Maybe I am a little," she admitted. "I mean, how fair is it? I've wanted to be a reporter since I was give years old. I spent all of middle school and high school working my butt off to learn as much as I could and build up a portfolio. I took as many journalism classes as Met U would let me add to my schedule. I spent my summers interning at the Planet or writing for the Ledger. I spend hours choosing just the right words for my articles to make them perfect. But Lois? Lois can't spell to save her life. The closest she ever came to a journalism course was her Communications 101 lectures, most of which she skipped anyway. Her only previous experience is the month she spent writing for the Torch two years ago, and I all but had to bully her into it!"
Lana smiled at Chloe's tirade. She was familiar with her friend's rare but intense form of venting. "Yes, but don't you remember the response her articles got?" Lana reminded her gently. "It's like what my Aunt Nell used to tell me when I would get frustrated with my riding. Some people have the skill naturally. They achieve a lot very quickly because they have all that talent. Other people have to work longer and harder to get where they're at. You're going to be a great reporter, Chloe."
"Yeah, but Lois is gonna get there faster," Chloe mumbled, hating that she sounded so much like a petulant child.
"She has this way of making even the hard things make sense, and I think people appreciate that," Lana observed. "She doesn't dance around the edges of things, she just calls it like she sees it. It's a good trait for a reporter to have."
Chloe appeared taken aback by Lana's unexpected support of Lois's new endeavor. "I guess that's true," she agreed reluctantly.
"Actually, I admire that about her," Lana remarked. "She's not exactly subtle, but I think her way of looking at the world helps her see what's true."
Thinking of Lois's failure to see Kal-El even though he was right in front of her, Chloe snorted.
Lana didn't seem to notice as she added, "That's probably why I like spending time with her, actually."
Chloe looked stunned. "You and Lois?" she asked incredulously. "I can't picture that."
"Yeah, I guess after Dark Thursday we kind of bonded. You know, "we faced the apocalypse together, so let's agree to be better friends," and all that. And we have some goals in common, so there's that as well." Lana felt abruptly guilty for writing off her friendship with Lois on something so small. She had very few friends, and she didn't want to trivialize the ones that she did have. It compelled her to add, tentatively: "And I guess... it's been easier to talk to her than to you about some things lately."
"Lana! You know you can talk to me about anything!" Chloe protested.
"I know I can," Lana said, "But all these things that have been happening lately, with Clark and with Lex and all the feelings I've been trying to sort out... well, Lois has been really great about it. I know I can talk to you, but it's easier with her. There's less... baggage. She and Clark are friends, sort of, and I respect that, but... you're Clark's best friend, Chloe."
"You think I would let that come between us?" Her face was the picture of wounded feelings.
"Of course not!" Lana assured her. "You're my best friend, and I know you can be objective. I just don't want to put you in a position where you have to be."
Hurt as she was, Chloe couldn't help but acknowledging that Lana had a point. She had at times, especially lately, found it difficult to walk the tightrope of loyalty between her two dearest friends. "Thanks for the courtesy," she said weakly. "Just don't forget that I'm always here to talk if you ever need me."
Lana's face fell into a sweetly sympathetic smile. "How could I ever forget the girl who called me her sister?" she asked, calling back to the family tree Chloe had once made for a class assignment.
At that reminder that all the Lois Lanes in the world couldn't erase her history with people, Chloe immediately brightened. "Thanks," she said. "I guess sometimes it's hard to be Chloe Sullivan when people seem to like Lois Lane so much."
"Well, I don't know your cousin so well," a new voice interrupted, "But I'm sure a big fan of Chloe Sullivan."
Her surprised smile as she glanced over her shoulder was cut off as her boyfriend met her lips in a sweet kiss.
"Jimmy," she greeted when he released her. He sat between the two girls.
"Hey Bright Eyes," he said. "Who's your friend?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," Chloe said, remembering her manners. "Jimmy, this is Lana: best friend, occasional roommate, and maker of the best coffee this side of Colombia. Lana, Jimmy Olsen."
Jimmy's smile was bright as he reached across the table to shake Lana's hand. "The legendary Lana Lang," he said. "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
"I'm surprised you haven't just checked the tabloids," Lana said dryly. "Ever since I started seeing Lex, it seems they haven't been able to help plastering my picture next to unflattering headlines."
"Eh, I never pay attention to what the yellow-bellies write," Jimmy replied. "I'd rather trust what Chloe has to say about you- you come up pretty often, you know."
"And you hardly come up at all," Lana countered. "Chloe's been unusually silent about the new man in her life." Leaning forward, she added with a secretive smile: "I think she wants to keep you all to herself."
Jimmy's smile, which had begun to flag at her first comment, flared up brightly at her second. "I hope so," he said, grinning at Chloe. "I was lucky enough to find her again after all these years and I'm not about to blow my second chance."
Chloe blushed and looked down at her lap to hide her smile.
"So, Lana," Jimmy added into the silence. "Do you have anywhere to be? You're welcome to join us for lunch if you'd like."
"Oh, I couldn't," Lana said. "Lex is expecting me back and I still have a dress to find before I head back to Smallville." She got to her feet. "It was nice meeting you, Jimmy."
"Likewise," Jimmy replied enthusiastically.
Turning to Chloe, she added, "I'll call you tomorrow. I'm desperately in need of a girl's night."
Chloe nodded her assent and, with a wave of her hand and a swish of her beautiful black locks, Lana was gone.
"Well, I like her," Jimmy said after a moment. "I can see why you two are so close." When he turned to look directly at his girlfriend, he saw her regarding him with a complex look on her face. "What?"
"You're not gonna blow your second chance?" she quoted back to him, her voice sounding both amused and baffled.
Jimmy smiled but his eyes were very serious. "Yeah. You know how around graduation time everybody gets all nostalgic and asks questions like "What's your biggest regret?" Well, my biggest regret was never calling you back after that summer. I dated a couple other girls after that, but there was never that click, you know? And once in awhile, I'd find myself thinking about Chloe Sullivan and wonder what was wrong with me that I never called her. Well, now I'm making up for that."
The sincerity in his voice was unmistakeable and, lost for words, Chloe simply kissed him so she wouldn't have to say anything. She was just beginning to realize that Jimmy really cared for her, and she hoped she wouldn't let him down.
She wondered what Jimmy would say if he knew that only a few hours before they reconnected, she had been kissing Clark.
In Oliver Queen's penthouse, behind the clock-face facade that made up one wall of the open-plan apartment, two monitor screens glowed, casting a greenish pall over the intent face of the young billionaire. The first showed a map of Europe with a pulsing red dot marked somewhere on the isle of Crete; the second displayed a map of South America, the red dot indicating a location on the Tierra del Fuego. Oliver tapped impatiently at the keyboard, glancing between the two screens frequently.
Just as his impatience was reaching an all-time high, one screen flickered and the map of Europe vanished, replaced by the image of a blond man. His otherwise handsome face was marred somewhat by the rising bruises around his left eye, which was quickly swelling shut.
"Aquaman checking in," he said.
"Hood checking in," Oliver replied.
"Man, we gotta change your code name, bro," Arthur Curry remarked. "The Emerald Hood is so dorky, my dad would never touch it."
Abruptly, a second face appeared on A.C.'s monitor, startlingly close to the webcam. "Hey, Boss-man!" Bart Allen, code name Impulse, said with a cheerful grin. "Aquadude's right. The Hood thing's gotta go. But I hear your girlfriend gave you a pretty sweet alternative..."
"Impulse, can I ask why you're in Crete?" Oliver asked curtly.
"Sorry, Boss-man," Bart replied cheekily. Two heartbeats later, the map of South America vanished and Bart appeared in its place. "Impulse, checking in. And speaking of bad code names..."
"Cool it with the code names," Oliver admonished. "And cut the Boss-man stuff. This is a team, and we're all equal partners here."
"Sure thing, Boss-man," A.C. said with a smirk.
Oliver rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. "Alright guys, status reports. Bart, what's the deal?"
"Got a lead on a possible bionic man, sleeping rough in Chicago."
"Send me the details, I'll check it out," Oliver said.
"Other than that, not much. I did run into a serious Brazilian fox with a thing for playing with fire, but she wasn't interested in joining up."
"Man, what is it with the chicks not wanting to play for the team?" A.C. asked.
"Well with your respectful and welcoming attitude, I can't imagine why they aren't lining the streets to sign on," Oliver remarked sarcastically.
A smug smirk on his face, Bart piped up, "He's just sorry he got beat up by a girl."
"I assume that explains the shiner, then?" Oliver asked.
A.C. looked chagrined as he explained, "I was following Bart's lead on a possible metahuman in the Mediterranean. Followed the trail from Greece to an island that, funnily enough, isn't on any maps. Turns out this girl I was tracking is some kind of warrior princess."
"And you're an Atlantean prince with superpowers," Oliver pointed out. "So?"
"Oh, I didn't mention she was the strongest person I've ever met, bar one?" A.C. griped. "Oh, and she can fly."
Oliver blinked in surprise. "Flying, huh? That's a new one. I take it she wasn't interested in our offer either?"
"I believe her exact words were: "An Amazon will serve no man.""
"Guess that's a no on the princess," Bart said. "So how about you, Green Arrow? You find anything in Metropolis besides a smokin' new ladyfriend?"
"Actually, yeah," Oliver said. "I came across this guy kind of by accident, but I may have found someone who could become a real asset to us."
"Who is he?" asked A.C.
"When he's not playing plebian, he goes by the name Kal-El. Rumor has it he's extraterrestrial."
"What, like little green men?" Bart asked.
Oliver shrugged. "He looks pretty human, but as our amphibious friend here proves, that doesn't mean much."
"As long as he doesn't have a tentacle face or something, I'm game," Bart said. "When do we get to meet him?"
"I'm not sure yet. He's a little reluctant to sign on, but I'll keep working on him. We could use a powerhouse like this guy."
"How do we know we can trust him?" A.C. asked.
"Aside from the fact that he's an oversized boy scout?" Oliver suggested with a wry twist to his mouth. "I don't know. It's just a feeling. You'd have to meet him to get it but there's just something about him. It's funny, you know, he's still a kid. Maybe a year or two older than Bart, tops, but he's still... impressive. Like even though he could probably pummel the three of us one-handed, he's gentle. I dunno, maybe that's what they mean when they say 'old soul.'"
"I knew somebody like that once," Bart mused. "You know, I outta look Clark up. He'd be a pretty good guy to have on the team."
"Wait, Clark? As in Kent?" Oliver asked.
"That's him, yeah."
"That's who I'm talking about."
"Wait, you guys know Kent, too?" A.C. chimed in.
"Yeah, he got me out of a real jam with Luthor a few years ago."
"Same here. Lex had me high and dry last summer, but Kent got me out of it. I've been thinking we should recruit him for awhile now, but he seemed so reluctant to get out of Podunk that I never suggested it."
Bart whistled low. "I knew ol' Stretch had a serious arsenal tucked away under all the plaid, but I didn't know he was of the E.T. persuasion."
"Yeah, he never mentioned anything like that to me either," A.C. said. "How'd you get it out of him?"
Oliver shrugged. "I have my sources. Clark wouldn't confirm anything, which makes me more sure that it's true."
"You want me to talk to him about suiting up?" Bart asked. "He'd probably take it better coming from me."
Oliver shook his head. "Nah, I've got Kent's number. And I've got your new assignments..."
His conversation with Lois from the evening before was still echoing in Clark's ears the next afternoon. More unnerving, though, was how some of the things she had said were still resonating in his hear. Lois's perspective on Kal-El, the last orphan of Krypton, was one he hadn't encountered before, and quite against his will, it was changing his view of his heritage. Reluctantly, he was beginning to see it as less of a curse to be feared and rejected, and more a source of interest. The curiosity he thought had been killed, driven out by fear the moment he had read the ominous message contained within his ship, was beginning to awaken once more. Meeting Raya in the Phantom Zone had started the process, and Lois's words in sympathy for a destroyed world were encouraging the feeling.
It wasn't the first time she had done something like this, either. Her description of the Fortress just a few scant months earlier had made him feel new respect for his little piece of lost Krypton on Earth, just in time to regret what he had foolishly thrown away without ever appreciating what he had.
But it wasn't his conflicted and constantly shifting feelings regarding Jor-El and Krypton that had driven him to the Talon apartment that evening. That wasn't something he talked even to Chloe about. No, it was something else that had him fleeing to his best friend for advice.
The night before, reassured by the glow of Lois's actual presence, he hadn't been overly concerned by her proximity to his secret. In the cold light of day, however, the warmth she left in his chest had faded and he was left to worry over the other parts of their conversation. He had no idea what else Lois's investigations might unearth, but it unnerved him. All day he had fretted over it, and he couldn't take stewing on his own any longer.
Chloe opened the door on his first knock. "Hey," she said distractedly. "Come on in."
"Wow, the place is a disaster zone," Clark remarked, entering the apartment.
"Lois," Chloe explained. "She's been trying to cook again."
Clark winced, remembering the spare handful of occasions when Lois had tried her mettle in the kitchen. "Why?" he asked plaintively.
"I'm not completely sure. She ran in here right after I got home, mumbled something about Thanksgiving, which makes no sense because that's weeks away, and started throwing flour in a spring-form pan."
"She's practicing," Clark said immediately. "Mom must have extended her Thanksgiving dinner invitation. Lois tries to help by making pie."
"God help us," Chloe said weakly.
"She's not here now, is she?"
"No, she realized she didn't have any apples for her apple pie-" Chloe said, with a pointed look at the smouldering black crust on the island that was turning to ash as they watched, "-and she ran out of here to go get some. Which meant I got to be the one to find out she had left an empty pie crust in the oven."
Clark grimaced. "Well, regardless of whether she can cook or not, she's getting way too close to my secret."
"How close are we talking?"
"Between Jor-El's meddling, Lana's research, and Lois's superhuman ability to add two and two and somehow come up with the last digit of pi? Close," Clark said. "She's already figured out that Kal-El's a refugee from a destroyed planet who came to Earth as a child, and who knows what else! She even knows about the meteor rocks! One kryptonite exposure with her around, and my cover's blown."
"You do know how weird you sound when you refer to Kal-El in the third person, right?" He could see the wheels in Chloe's head turning faster than even he could run. "Okay," she said. "Okay. This is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna handle Lois-"
"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"
"Sure. I have twenty years' experience of navigating the treacherous waters around Cape Lois. You, meanwhile, are going to focus on figuring out how many Zoners escaped when you clicked your heels back to Kansas."
"I've been trying," Clark said, "but with the Fortress dead, the only way I can think of to locate them is by manually searching the entire planet. I'm hoping not to have to resort to that."
Chloe made a sympathetic grimace in his direction. "But to stop superpowered alien criminals from blowing up the planet, you do what you gotta do, huh?"
"Something like that," Clark sighed.
"Something like what?" Lois asked, pushing through the doorway just in time to catch his last comment.
"Just, um... stuff?" Clark fumbled.
"Yeah," Lois said, drawing out the word sarcastically. "Thanks for clearing that up, Smallville." She shot a glance at Chloe, who just shrugged.
The warmth in Clark's chest was back, and he suddenly wondered if the day he'd spent worrying had been worth it. This was Lois, after all. For all that she was the most powerful personality on Planet Earth, she was also pretty much the most harmless person he'd ever met.
Ignorant to Clark's confusion regarding herself, Lois moved past the two friends, bag of apples in hand. She spied the remnants of what might once have been a respectable pie crust on the island. "My pie!" she cried sadly.
Across the room, Clark and Chloe exchanged amused glances.
Milo Graethe was reviewing SafeTech's latest acquisition account when the Asian fellow with the dragon tattoo on his face, whom Milo had hired for grunt work, entered his office without so much as a courtesy knock. Well, Milo supposed, that was what you got when you hired cheap and dirty.
"Yes?" he asked curtly.
"Report on the Lane operation, Mister Graethe."
"Go on."
"I planted the tracker on her car last night, and me and Jim bugged the apartment this morning."
"What specs?"
"A button camera on the mantle, and two B-class mikes, one in the bedroom and one in the living room."
"Voice activated, very nice," Milo said approvingly. "Have you tested them yet?"
"Yes, Mister Graethe. Everything's loud and clear."
"Have we got anything of interest on record yet?"
The tattoo on the man's cheek contorted and appeared to writhe unpleasantly as he screwed up his face in a grimace. "Not really," he said. "Just a lot of Lane's cousin talking to some guy."
"Archive it," Milo ordered. "The cousin's been on Mr. Luthor's bad side more than once. Keep records of all her conversations, in case Mr. Luthor would like the archives of Miss Sullivan's less public interactions."
"Blackmail material," Dragon-Face observed. "Smart thinking, Mister Graethe."
"I didn't become the best in the business by playing it safe," Milo said coolly. "Now get back to work, kid."
"Sure thing, Mister Graethe."
A/N- Reviews are not mandatory, but deeply appreciated. :)