Chapter 36

Charles takes a moment to take in the 21 year old woman with past the shoulder brown hair. When he heard the name, if he was still able to stand, you could have knocked him over with a feather in surprise. He hadn't seen her since she was a little girl. She had grown into a lovely looking young woman. "Ms Swann, welcome to my Institute. Please sit," he requests.

Patricia smiles politely and takes the offered seat. "Patricia, please," she requests she is called.

"First off let me express my condolences for the loss of your father. Virgil was a great man and a good friend who I miss."

"Thank you," Patricia says in return. "And for your letter. It was most kind."

"It was nothing," Charles dismisses any idea his writing of that letter was any effort. "Now what brings you here?" he asks.

"My father left me a video will. One for me personally he left in Bridgette's possession for safe-keeping."

"I'm not certain I understand," Charles says.

Patricia looks him dead in the eyes so he can see how serious she is here. "It told me everything, Professor. About Veritas, about the Traveller and your part in it."

Charles is unable to give a response. He is so caught out all thought has fled his mind.

"I didn't believe it at first. My father had a weird sense of humour," Patricia says with a funny small laugh at the memory. "I really wouldn't put it past him to make the whole thing up but Bridgette showed me all his research, his diary, the message from space. I came here because I need answers and my father can't provide them."

Charles composes himself. Of course she would want answers. He just never imagined Virgil would drop this on his daughter in this fashion so he never considered this situation arising. He really needs to have words with Bridgette on this. "What is it you need to know, Patricia?"

"You know all the way here I was thinking and thinking about it but now I'm here I don't now where to start," Patricia admits the ludicrous situation she is in.

"Take your time," Charles tells her.

Patricia thinks and comes up with, "What was the aim? Of Veritas?"

Charles can answer that. "The Traveller would be a remarkable being. One of great power who could change the world. But he would also be alone on a strange planet with people who would exploit him. Veritas was a collection of people whom would create a safe environment for the Traveller to explore this world, himself and to aid him in achieving his destiny while protecting him from those whose aims were less than altruistic."

"So you invited Lionel Luthor to join?" Patricia seeks an obvious flaw in that.

Charles smiles thinly. "People change. People misjudge. Your father, as great as he was, misjudged Lionel and the Teagues. He thought they would see the Traveller as he would. As the answer to so many questions about existence. Your father had a thirst for knowledge second to none."

"Yeah. That was true," Patricia says with a melancholic smile. That was the one thing he never lost, even after the accident which paralysed him.

"He was wrong. Lionel and the Teagues were only interested in how the Traveller's might could elevate them."

"What happened? Veritas dissolved," Patricia wants to know how it ended.

"The Traveller didn't show. The message got here long before he physically did. I think your father miscalculated the lag in time period which is perfectly understandable when dealing with the concept of faster than light travel, a concept well beyond the human race currently. We all had other concerns to deal with. I had my students and mutant affairs. Lionel and the Teagues had their business empires to run. Your father went into seclusion. After the Queens died in their 'accident' it was clear Veritas had come to its end. We just went in separate directions in the belief, I think, that perhaps the Traveller would never appear. That your father was wrong, which was slightly cruel I know and regret."

"Or a perfectly understandable conclusion given the facts," Patricia understands.

"You're most kind," Charles compliments her with a smile.

"The Traveller did show. My father told me in his message. He's here, I mean living here in this mansion, isn't he?"

It's pointless to deny it. "Yes. He is."

3 simple words but it changes everything Patricia thought she knew. "I came not only for answers Professor, though I hope you will indulge me when I ask more questions but I also came to finish my father's work. It is something I owe to him."

"Which work would this be?"

"To aid the Traveller. My father dedicated the last 18 months of his life to it. Basically, from what Bridgette told me, from the day he met the Traveller for the first time."

"You'll have to forgive me if I say I do not understand," Charles says, very puzzled by what it is Virgil has done.

"You ever heard of Star Labs?"

Charles nods. "It's a research and development company."

"My father owns...owned it. I'm the owner now. My father had spent the last year before his death restructuring it, vetting the employees, getting it ready."

"Ready for what?"

"It's a gift for the Traveller. It's resources are there to help him understand his world and himself...and not just the Traveller. I think my father was thinking of you. It is also there to help the Traveller's allies, the X-Men."

Charles is taken aback by Virgil's generosity. There isn't another term for it. It also suddenly occurs to Charles this could aid in his current problem. "It is strangely fortuitous that you are here, now, Patricia, making such an offer."

"In what way?" Patricia asks, her head cocked to the side, in puzzled curiosity.

Charles tells her all about his current dilemma involving the power inhibition technology.

Patricia's hand rubs her chin as she thinks. She wonders if her father knew this was coming...or at least an issue like this was inevitable at some point. Her father was always thinking way ahead of most other people.

"I haven't made a decision, yet," the Professor mentions. "If I choose to press ahead with releasing the technology I would need resources to perfect it and then manufacture it."

"Well I can certainly have Star Labs do that. As well as the more obvious Star Labs building in Metropolis there is a secret manufacturing facility, mostly to build prototypes safely away from populated areas but now I think on it it has the ability to produce much more on a larger scale. I think my father was thinking that something like this was bound to occur."

"Thank you," Charles says at her kind offer.

"I do have one condition."

"Which is?"

"I want to meet the Traveller. I want to meet Clark Kent."

Clark was up in his room, lying on his bed, throwing a ball into the air and catching it. He had tried to write his latest blog but found he couldn't concentrate on it as he would have liked. He couldn't even find the energy to have a race with Bart. They tended to have a race a day and it was fun but again not in the mood.

Bart had made some moody comment about Clark being a bore and then gone off to annoy someone else...or flirt with Jubilee again.

Clark would make it up to his friend. He just was in a bind about the present situation. Personally he believed people like them had to be held to account. When they aren't...Clark almost went too far once. It ended with Parasite taking his powers and almost killing him and his friends. It was one of the many examples that prompted him to help build those weapons to stop him.

Clark tosses the ball up and springs to his feet to catch it at the peak of the throw. This is what he was trying to stop doing. Sitting around, brooding and moping.

Better to go out and patrol round Bayville. Then at least he is doing something.

There is a knock on his door. Clark's eyes drop to it, his eyes flashing electric blue as he x-rays through it. It's the Professor and a woman he doesn't know. Clark hops down off his bed and opens the door. "Professor?"

"Clark. Let me do an introduction."

Clark turns his gaze to the woman who is looking at him...no staring at him like...it's almost like that look of awe he got from the Nova Romans.

"This is Dr Swann's daughter, Patricia. She knows everything he knew about you," the Professor explains what as far as he knows is true, hence why he just introduced the alien teen as Clark.

"I see," Clark says flatly. He holds his hand out. "It's very nice to meet you, Ms Swann. I am very sorry about your father. He was a good friend to me."

Patricia takes his hand with her own which is visibly shaking due to the immensity of this moment. She really hadn't been sure what she had expected at this moment but this wasn't it.

He looked so human. His voice was so full of kindness and sympathy. His eyes were soft and caring yet she felt like he was looking right through her, right into her very soul.

Patricia couldn't stop looking at him.

"It's the alien bit, right," Clark said, with an amused half-smile.

"Huh?" Patricia asks, still in her stupor.

"Yeah. It's always that that causes people's brain to freeze up. How can he be an alien when he looks so human? That's what you're asking."

It's like he could read her mind. Can he read her mind? No, no. Her father didn't say anything about telepathic powers. Patricia finds her voice. "Y-You're Kal-El?"

"Let me guess, you were expecting me to be taller," Clark quips.

Charles' head gives an amused shake.

"And more alien-y. If it means anything Kitty would say I am the weirdest person on this planet which is, like totally saying something from the Valley Girl of Deerfield 90210," he mocks Kitty, doing his impression of her.

Patricia's face shows how she doesn't know what to say which is truly a first. She always has something to say. An argument, a debate. When she has a point of view she never stops until she gets people to agree with her.

Charles intervenes, speaking for the young woman whose voice has seemingly deserted her. "Patricia came with a few revelations about her father's work and I'm certain she would like to hear about your interactions with him."

Clark looks at the Professor with an odd but curious expression about what he means. "Of course," he agrees.

A few hours later Clark was walking Patricia around the Institute grounds discussing this idea that Star labs exists to aid him.

By now, inevitably, everyone knew they had a guest and to varying degrees who she was, what she meant to Clark and what she was here for.

In the sitting room Betsy found herself standing by the window, a deep unhappy look on her face at watching this scene through the gloom and outside lights. She didn't like the way this Patricia was looking at Clark. The woman wouldn't take her eyes off him.

"I vonder vhat zhey're talking about," Kurt says.

Betsy looks up to see Kurt hanging upside down by the curtain rail using his tail, peering out like she is. "Aren't you the one with the big ears?" she asks.

Kurt grins his toothy one. "Amanda zhinks zhey're cute."

"Oh they are," Betsy says. "But don't you have above average hearing?" she asks, which is what she was trying to get at

"Ja," Kurt confirms. "But it's not zhat good," he tells her. "Aren't you zhe telepath?" he asks back.

"Doesn't work on him and I'm not that good working at long distances yet."

"Ah don't lahke her," one disgruntled voice grumbles.

Betsy is so unuse to hearing that voice spoken when she's in the room it takes her a moment to realise it's Rogue who has come to stand behind her.

"Vhy not?" Kurt asks. "She seems perfectly nice to me...and didn't you meet her fazher?" he recalls that happening once.

Rogue did. He revealed her first name to Clark. She doesn't like that idea of people knowing stuff about her and not knowing they know. "He said curiosity was an admirable trait. Personally ah prefer tha one about how it killed tha cat. Ah don't lahke people who snoop and it seems ta meh that's exactly why she's here, ta snoop on Clark."

"And it's not any sort of lingering jealousy that she seems to like your ex?"

Rogue scoffs at that notion. "No. Ah'm totally ovah that and moving on," she claims.

Kurt has seen very little evidence to back up that claim so far.

"I wouldn't worry," Betsy says. "I mean she's only rich, thin and classy. Guys hate those sort of women."

"Was that sarcasm?" Rogue asks.

"Are you actually talking to me?" Betsy asks back with utter surprise.

"I could ask Kurt but he wouldn't know sarcasm if it bite him on tha tail."

"Hey!" Kurt protests.

"Are you talking to me?" Betsy asks again.

"Yes."

"That's a first. I thought you hated me."

"Ah don't hate ya," Rogue says. "Ah just see no reason ta talk ta ya."

"Rogue," Kurt says severely, trying to make her stop before she becomes truly insulting.

"What? Ah don't and besides Betsy, couldn't that description beh used ta describe ya?"

"I'm not thin. I'm perfectly sculpted," Betsy describes herself. "But I am classy," she takes pride in saying that.

"Yeah, a high class escort," Rogue mutters disparagingly. It has not escaped her attention that Betsy seems to have a thing for her ex-boyfriend.

Betsy's head snaps round, her eyes narrowed in anger. She heard that.

So did Kurt. "Ladies, lets be civilised," he asks.

"I'm British, luv. We invented being civilised," Betsy claims.

Rogue makes a scoffing sound.

Betsy refuses to respond.

Rogue peers out the window as Clark and Patricia share a laugh at something. "Ah don't lahke her. She's after something," she thinks.

"I agree," Betsy says.

"Finally, zhey agree on somezhing," Kurt mutters, although this is hardly the thing he would have chosen for Rogue and Betsy to find something in common and break the ice. "Vhat exactly could she be after? Dr Swann just vanted to help Clark. How do you know she isn't exactly zhe same?"

"Dr Swann wanted knowledge. Tha answers to life's mysteries," Rogue corrects her brother. "Trust meh. Ah know. Clark and ah discussed it."

"Zhat's not a bad zhing," Kurt argues.

"Tha point, Kurt, is that he was after something. Everyone is after something. It's tha way people are."

"She's right," Betsy says in agreement. "Even if all you want is world peace that's wanting something."

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ok, ok, I get your point. I'll rephrase. I'm sure all she vants is to help."

"Yeah, not buying it," Rogue says.

"Me neither," Betsy says.

Kurt sighs. "Vhy do I bozher," he mutters in defeat as he teleports away in his puff of blue smoke.

Rogue and Betsy cough and wave away the smoke.

"Ah hate it when he does that," Rogue complains.

Betsy coughs hard. "I can see why."

The two girls look at each other.

"Look, Rogue, I know you're uncomfortable around me and I'm not sure I can do anything to fix that but how about we make a deal. We both want to protect Clark, right?" Betsy believes.

"Ya want more than that. Ah'm not blind nor stupid," Rogue says in a tone that tells Betsy to not even attempt to deny it.

"I'm not going to deny it. I find him fascinating and you must have at some point too."

Rogue can't deny that.

"But we want to protect him. You still think of him as your friend, right?"

"Yeah. Clark's nice but he can beh a little too naïve and trusting of people. Ya know, seeing tha good in them even when it really isn't there."

"He should try reading their minds sometime. He would soon think differently," Betsy says somewhat cynically, showing at some point she got burned somewhere along the line by someone.

"So what? We work together ta find out what this Swann gal is really after?"

Betsy shrugs. "Why not? We don't have to like each other. As long as you agree Clark's fair game."

"He can date who he wants but don't beh surprised if Ah bad-mouth ya ta him."

"So just like a normal ex then?" Betsy quips.

Rogue's lips quirk slightly before she catches herself. "So do ya have a plan what to do with little miss thin and classy out there?"

"Did you know I'm a twin?"

Rogue isn't sure how that's relevant. "No."

"Well I am. I'm the evil twin so the answer to your question is that I've always got a scheming plan."

Patricia was still having a hard time comprehending what Clark represented. He was so normal. He was kind and gentle and funny. She had picked that up from him quickly. He was also so courteous. When he made her some coffee she had given him a pretty weirded out look like she couldn't believe this being, who had travelled millions of light years across the stars, who was potentially the most powerful being on this planet, would do something so simple like make her coffee.

When he caught her look she actually said this. His retort was a goofy smile and a joke that she must have wanted tea instead.

After meeting his parents she could begin to see where he got it from.

Patricia could have convinced herself he was human, maybe even a mutant but he had been given her a tour of the lower levels of the mansion and somehow she talked him into a demonstration of the Danger Room. There was just something about the way he ran through the programme. Maybe it was the shooting lasers from his eyes or freezing things with his breath or moving so fast she couldn't follow him or lifting this impossible weight as easy as she would lift that cup of coffee. Whatever it was she now couldn't deny he was what her father told her he was.

Patricia doesn't think she has stopped staring at him since she first met him and yet, even now, she can't make herself stop.

Now they were walking the grounds on this chilly night that he shrugged off as easily as if it was a balmy spring day. He only wore his red jacket because that's what people do. It was camouflage. He had learned to blend in well.

Patricia listened to him as he spoke of his last contacts with her father. "I only had his video message but I think he thought the world of you."

"I'm not sure that's true," Clark says, a little uncomfortable at that idea that he could hold such importance to anyone.

Patricia has to argue with him. She tends to argue a lot with people until they see her point of view. "This last 18 months he has been more animated than I had seen him since before the accident. I know it's hard to believe but he was such a vigorous man. So full of life. Rock climbing, horse riding, hang-gliding then he had his fall and he shrank into himself. Dedicated himself to his communications. The man who couldn't reach out to another person. reaching out in another fashion, bringing people together, even people separated by the vastness of space it seems."

As she speaks those words Patricia could see the inflexion in his face. Like he carried some vast burden no-one could possibly imagine.

"I want to do what my father wished me to do. To help you."

His brow furrows and Patricia can almost see his mind toss over the possibilities and outcomes. In case he refuses, for whatever reason, she already had her arguments worked out. That she has knowledge of Veritas and her father's work that Professor Xavier didn't. That beyond Lionel there was the danger of the last surviving Teague family member; Edward. That you can never have enough allies looking out for you to protect you from those that will try and exploit you.

His eyes focus on her intently and she gets that feeling he's looking into her soul again. His eyes can convey a great intelligence. "Are you sure? It's not always safe."

Patricia takes a fortifying breath. "I'm sure. This is important."

Clark shoves his hands in his pockets. "I try my best to protect people. I don't desire to put anyone in harm's way for me but I feel my path will not always be the same as the X-Men. One day I will step away from the safety of these walls and live a life of my own. It would be foolish to turn down an offer of help but I do have a request."

"Name it."

"Star Labs can't just be for me or the X-Men. There are many people, superpowered and not who could benefit. Just promise me the benefits will be shared with the whole world."

Patricia can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, of thinking of everyone else. "That can be arranged."

A short time later Patricia prepares to depart. The Professor is saying his farewells. "It was very nice to see you again Patricia. Your father...it was clear you were the centre of his world."

Patricia smiles gratefully at that. A lot of her father's work was kept secret from her. She could be angry at him. In fact she was a little at first but Bridgette had managed to assuage her anger and make her understand the necessity of the secrecy.

Still it would have been...preferable to have heard it from her father's own lips but Patricia has decided there is no point in dwelling on it. She has too much to do to continue her father's work.

"It was very nice seeing you again Professor...although I'm afraid I can't really remember you much," she has to apology.

Charles lets it pass. "Perfectly understandable. You were very young...and tended to prefer to run about without any clothes on," he teases.

Patricia blushes. "Ok, before I get any more embarrassed I'll leave."

Charles laughs lightly.

"When you make a decision over the inhibition technology, you'll let me know?"

Charles nods. "I shall. Thank you for you help."

"It's what my father would have done," is her response to that. Patricia then turns her attention to saying goodbye to Clark who had changed to go out patrolling. Of course it was rather obvious he was Superman. In fact her father mentioned that on his video message. However that doesn't do anything to detract from how impressive he looks when you stand in his presence. He just seems bigger, taller, larger than life almost.

Clark steps forward and gives her a friendly, slightly awkward hug because she wasn't expecting it. "It was very nice to meet you," he says before stepping back.

"Yeah, you too," Patricia replies, a touch of reverence in her tone.

"Dr Swann and I exchanged many email messages. Please feel free to do the same if you wish to talk to me," Clark offers.

Patricia smiles brightly. "Thank you. I will and if you do need anything, contact me. My offer to help was genuine."

"I shall. Thank you. Have a safe drive, Patricia."

"Goodbye," she says, before stepping into her car and leaving.

Once she's gone the Professor turns and re-enters the mansion while Volcana lands next to her brother.

"You know she's just wanting to get into your pants, right?" Claire makes her observational comment.

Clark groans. "Must you? Really?" he complains at that being her first remarks. "And no, she wasn't."

"Yeah. She was. I think she swooned at least twice in your presence," Claire argues with him.

Clark sighs. "It was a bit like the way the Nova Romans looked at me, actually. You know that awe and reverence of me being something..."

"Divine?" Claire offers.

"Yeah. I hate that but I do believe she genuinely desires to help. Considering everything we need all the friends we can get."

"Can't argue with you there," Claire says and notes that her brother made what could be considered a very mature decision in accepting help instead of trying to do things on his own.

"So shall we?" he requests they just go.

"Sure," Claire says as she rises into the air and Clark runs off across the grounds. "I have to ask," she says as she flies above him. "What are you thinking about this inhibition technology stuff?"

"I think you don't need me to answer that. You know how I feel. People like us must be held to account."

"Yeah. I kinda figured that was your view," she says in rather cold tones.

Clark leaps over the wall and lands in a crouch the other side. "Claire. I get why you might feel different after what Stryker did to you. You know I would never judge you."

Claire's face pinches slightly. "It's going to cause trouble, you know."

"I know," Clark accepts her point as he breaks into a run again.

"Magneto will freak."

"I know...but hey if it brings him out of hiding I can give him that concussion I promised to."

"Look on the positive. I like your thinking!" Claire approves.

Clark shakes his head and snorts out a laugh. Only Claire would say something like that.

Denver, Colorado...

A lovely woman with auburn red hair turns the key to enter her apartment. She is a woman who has flittered from one thing to the next without much focus in her life. Maybe it's a lingering effect of being brought up in that orphanage that she just can't find that focus in her life.

Or maybe it is the fact that after discovering who her father actually was she keeps finding that what she is doing just somehow isn't enough to live up to the family name she doesn't have attached to her own.

The woman enters her apartment still in darkness and hits the light switch.

Nothing.

She audibly groans at what she assumes is the fact the bulb's gone. That means trying to replace it in the dark.

"It's not the bulb."

The woman gasps and reaches into her pocket for something.

"That's unnecessary," the voice says and into existence, in the middle of the room, comes flickering a holographic image of a man...of Lionel Luthor. "It's the latest in holographic communication technology," he explains.

The woman's green eyes narrow. "What do you want?" she demands to know, in cold harsh tones, just making the assumption he can at least hear her if probably see her as well.

"Your help."

The woman laughs a cold hollow laugh. "Ha!" she mocks. "After all these years of denying I exist, now you want my help?" she asks utterly sceptical of that concept.

"I have made mistakes. I don't deny it. However, things change. My eyes have been opened. I am sorry for what never happened between us. It is not too late to rectify that. Is not too late to be part of a world transforming enterprise I am embarking on."

"I wonder what Lex would say."

"About what? The fact you exist?"

"The fact you cheated on his mother, your wife, with mine."

"Don't be naïve" Lionel slightly tells her off. "He knows all about you and yet has he sought you out as I am doing right now?"

"No," she grudgingly concedes.

"No," Lionel repeats for emphasis to drive it home to her that point. "I am being honest here. I made a mistake before not taking you into my family. I realise that now. I can't change the past but I can choose what sort of future we have. I want to us to be a family once again. Lex has chosen to forsake me. You are all I have left...and I am all you have."

"That's completely pathetic now, isn't it?"

"Hardly," Lionel dismisses that description. "Family is everything. The human race is simply one extended family. Dysfunctional, yes but a family. I'm going to help bring it together. My methods are radical I confess. Now for that some call me a traitor. It's why I can't be there in person no matter how much I wish to be. Lex has chosen his path of loneliness. What about you? What's your choice? Do you want to continue as you are? Or help me in achieving something great? I know it's the latter."

The woman arches an eyebrow. "Oh, and how do you know that?"

"Because you're a Luthor. You're my daughter. So what say you? Will you help me, Lutessa?"

Lutessa Lena Mercer/Luthor peers intently into the holographic face of her father, trying to discern whether or not he is being genuine. After all these years of denying her existence his coming to her now, seeking to mend their family ties, seems out of the blue. What is he after? She's not going to figure it out by talking to this projection. "I have one request."

"Name it."

"I want us to meet in person."

Lionel smiles with a certain gentility. "I can arrange that, in time. However if you agree to help I need you to do something in the United States first."

Tess, as she prefers to go by, thinks carefully. She has been searching. Searching for her purpose. Is this it? Is this her chance to find it? She makes her choice...for the moment at least. "I'm in...dad."

Lionel smiles broadly and says with fatherly pride, "That's my girl!"

Author's Note: Patricia Swann, another one of those interesting but all too brief guest stars on the show. Lets see if she can last a bit longer in my story as she tries to carry on her father's work. And talking of daughters and their fathers I thought it a good moment to bring in Lionel's, the ever awesome Tess Mercer. Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews. My team name poll remains open. Next up; superpowered dogs, villains and a person from the past for Clark.