"I'm sorry about what she said. She'll come around. It's just a shock to her," Oliver explained, feeling the need to explain her cousin's actions to her.

"So you're on my side? It sure didn't seem like it. You didn't once jump to my defense when she accused me of being naive because I don't believe in going terminator. Do you still have feelings for her or is it that you agree with her?"

"I know better than to jump between two girls in an argument."

She rolled her eyes, noting he hadn't answered the question. He made it sound like they'd gotten into some kind of cat fight. "Still, a little backup would have been nice."

"I really do believe we can capture him humanely. I wouldn't be funding the lab work if I didn't."

"I know."

"I just hope we have the time. It seems like he's settled his murdering spree down in the absence of his father and not needing to hide his identity, but if he goes back to it, we can't wait. We'll have to take him out."

"I know that too. I wouldn't expect you to."

sss

A source promised the goods on LuthorCorp. Despite the affiliation of the paper and the fact that it could never see the light of day under her name because of her contract, that didn't mean she couldn't pass the information along to a rival paper that could write it up.

"Hello?" she called out. He'd wanted to meet in one of the warehouses on the dock. There were boxes everywhere, but no workers and no informant apparently. Wouldn't be the first guy to turn chicken and with good reason. Employees who squealed on the Luthors had a tendency to go missing.

She felt the familiar sensation of a cold metal nozzle thrust into her back. Someone was out to do away with her yet again. It was almost getting irritating. She really should get a license to carry though with her luck, it'd end up being more of a liability. "Are you my source?" she asked with a note of hope, still clinging to the idea it might be on the up and up.

"I'm your source alright. You have to be all kinds of gullible to think anyone is dumb enough to rat on Ultraman or even a Luthor. I mean the head of LuthorCorp can hear anything at anytime. He might be listening in even now."

"So what then? You're looking to get a raise for taking me out? A promotion to vice president of goondom?"

He laughed. "You're a witty woman. No wonder you write. I just know he's been out to get rid of you for years. I'm helping him out. Insurance for the future, you know?"

She heard the hammer cock. She knew she wasn't going to get out of this alive probably, but she prepared to lift her leg and stomp as hard as she could on his foot. It'd probably be enough to take him by surprise and the pain would distract him enough to jerk out of his grip and run like crazy and hope she wasn't hit by a bullet.

She had only started picking up her foot when she felt a whoosh. She whipped around just in time to see her attacker go sailing through the air like a rag doll. She cringed when he smacked into the wall.

He could have handled that with a little less power behind it as the guy was now in need of medical attention, but the fact remain that Clark had just saved her life, and he hadn't ended her assailant's, and that was progress.

"You saved me," she said still in shock.

"Good help's hard to find though I'm tempted to try in your case sometimes."

He could joke about it all he wanted to, but it didn't change the fact that he had done a good deed, this time without the excuse of saying he was repaying something she had done first.

"If you don't wipe that smug look off your face, Lane, I might not come the next time. What were you doing here anyway?"

"My job. Chasing down a story."

"Uh-huh. What story?" he said, not about to let her off the hook that easily.

"One that didn't pan out."

"He was going to offer up information about me, wasn't he? Don't bother lying to me. You're a terrible liar."

"Well, I admit I haven't clocked all the miles that you have at it, but I happen to think I do okay." She didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to enjoy this game of verbal sparring between them.

"You couldn't mask your hatred if you tried. If you'll excuse me, I have an ex-employee that needs some relocating," he said. She hoped that he meant the police station.

He wasn't wrong about what he'd said about her. When she didn't like someone, they knew it. The problem was she wasn't sure that she counted him in that category anymore. She saw more hope for his redemption every time they interacted together.