Notes : Ok, this part was much easier to write than the last two, which
felt a bit forced. Once you get going banter is pretty fun to work on. I
think I'm almost through the majority of the exposition which helps.
Coming soon to a fan-fiction site near you, Gabriel vs an FBI task force,
who do you think will win? ;) (feel free to start up a betting pool… just
as long as you let me enter)
Shadows : Chapter 3a
Clark Kent was sitting at Chloe's desk in the Torch office. That part didn't bother her, it was only nominally 'her' desk as others did frequently find themselves using it. The part that did catch her attention was the entirely too smug look he had on his face. Maybe smug was exaggerating, smug wasn't the kind of word that could really be applied correctly to Clark. But he was definitely…
Pleased with himself.
"Current rumor states that the police literally dragged you away this morning Clark. Care to comment?" She asked the question playfully despite the real interest behind it.
Clark just continued to grin at her. No question about it, he looked entirely like…
"Ok... spit it out… why do you look like the cat that ate the Canary?" She did her best to put on her stern face. It seemed appropriate.
"Chloe, how long is it until Christmas?"
"Long enough that I'd have to do actual math to figure it out. Why?"
"Because… I picked you up a gift this morning." Clark leaned across the desk and laid several pieces of paper in front of her, neatly stapled together in one corner.
"No bow?" Picking up the papers she found herself looking at a long but not immediately significant typed up list.
"They were out of bows. Sorry."
"You really do have a minimalist approach to Christmas." Chloe sat down on the corner of the desk and tried to figure out what exactly he'd given her. " Ok Clark, I'm looking at names, addresses, and what looks like credit card numbers. Are you sure this was on my list of desired gifts?"
"That, is the list of all the guests staying at the hotel"
Chloe stared at him in shock for a moment before looking back at the pages. Then she quickly began scanning through them, looking at each and every name as if they themselves might contain some hidden meaning. "God, Clark, where… how did you get this? Never mind, I don't want to know. Do I? What were you doing this morning?"
Clark stood up from the desk and walked around it. "I spent the morning, part of it anyway, being interviewed by an FBI agent. "
Putting the pages down she moved around the desk to sit in the seat Clark had just vacated. As she walked past him she felt the brief urge to give him a thank you hug but she restrained herself. She had clues, it was time to do some work. "What did he want?"
"Just to ask me some more questions about Sunday night." Clark looked like he was getting ready to leave and when she noticed Chloe suffered a twinge of disappointment. She was surprised he wasn't going to stick around to help.
"That doesn't explain how you got the list."
"Let's just say that Agent Philips left me sitting in his office for about an hour, alone, with that list on the desk." Clark grinned at her before turning and heading for the door. "I'll be back in a bit."
Yup, she'd been right, he'd been getting ready to leave. Her curiosity quickly kicked in. "Where are you going?"
"I haven't had a chance to talk to Lana yet."
Ah. Lana. Of course.
Clark disappeared out the door and Chloe found herself alone in an office that suddenly felt much emptier. Pushing aside the twinge of doubt that still crossed her thoughts whenever Clark mentioned Lana she switched gears into the very familiar and comfortable journalistic mindset she'd been building up since she first began writing for the torch.
Step one, input every name and address from the list into her computer…
Clark found Lana in the cafeteria. She was alone, which seemed a little odd as he'd expected to find her with Whitney. A text book was spread out before her but she didn't seem to be paying any more attention to it than she was to her food, instead she was simply staring into the table as if trying to look at something embedded far beyond. Since Clark was, as far as he knew, the only Smallville student who could see through solid objects he was fairly sure that wasn't the case.
He should have talked to her sooner. Clark had lost track of Lana since the funeral, having spent most of the intervening days trying to make up for every slight he'd ever made towards Chloe. It was like the people in his life were part of a juggling act but he couldn't manage more than a couple of balls in the air at the same time. Some always ended up stuck in his hands or lost on the ground.
Sorting through the cafeteria offerings Clark purchased a moderately sized lunch before heading over to sit down across from her.
Lana looked up and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly when she saw who it was. "Hi Clark."
"Lana." Clark looked down to see what book was in front of her. It was a math text, open to a chapter that had been assigned more than two weeks ago. She was still on the first page. "How are you?"
"Do you want the polite answer or the real answer?" She smiled as if it were a joke, but her voice wasn't in it.
"The truth." She must be taking the death of Whitney's father hard, and he'd apparently been too clueless to notice. So much for his resolution to pay more attention to people.
"In that case, I've been better."
He found himself frowning unintentionally. "I'm sorry."
Lana's eyes widened. "Why should you be sorry?"
"Because it took me a week and a half and a request before I thought to ask you how you're doing?"
This produced Lana's first real smile. "You've just been paying allot of attention to Chloe. It's sweet. And she deserves it, especially after what Justin… " She stopped, apparently deciding that some things didn't need to be remembered in too much detail. "You have nothing to apologize for Clark."
Clark felt a little better after hearing the words, but looking at Lana he could still see the sadness permeating her eyes. That was no good. "What's wrong Lana?"
"Aside from the obvious?"
"You can include the obvious. I promise not to hold it against you." That earned him another smile.
"Well… Whitney and his Mother are both completely depressed. Every time I'm over at their house someone ends up crying and I always find myself joining in. Then by the time I get home I'm completely drained. I don't think I've slept through the night since the funeral. Nell is worried sick." She shook her head. "... and in the meantime I've fallen so far behind in math class that I have no clue what the teacher is talking about anymore. At the rate I'm going I'll probably fail the finale exam"
"Maybe you should take a break."
Lana looked at him quizzically.
"Just step away for a couple of days to recharge."
She shook her head. "I can't do that to them. They need every bit of morale support they can get right now."
Silence fell between Lana and Clark, neither quite sure what to say. He was the first to break it.
"Well, I can help with the math part at least." School in general, but math in particular, had never posed any difficulty for Clark.
"Actually that was why I was looking for you. I figured if anyone could save me from a horrible grade it would be you."
"Definitely, just tell me when." Something he could help with, good. Clark hated feeling useless, at least this way he'd be doing something for her.
"How about we start tomorrow at lunch and go from there?"
"Deal."
She looked relieved, like he'd just agreed to help her lift a bit of the weight on her shoulders. Maybe she'd sleep a little better that night, he doubted it, but he could hope.
"Clark, how well did you know Whitney's father?"
"Not well, I only talked to him a couple of times."
She smiled sadly before continuing. "He was really nice."
Clark didn't know what to say.
Eventually Lana pushed away her tray and stated quietly that she'd lost her appetite.
Clark had lost his as well.
The pair talked softly until the lunch bell rang.
Shadows : Chapter 3a
Clark Kent was sitting at Chloe's desk in the Torch office. That part didn't bother her, it was only nominally 'her' desk as others did frequently find themselves using it. The part that did catch her attention was the entirely too smug look he had on his face. Maybe smug was exaggerating, smug wasn't the kind of word that could really be applied correctly to Clark. But he was definitely…
Pleased with himself.
"Current rumor states that the police literally dragged you away this morning Clark. Care to comment?" She asked the question playfully despite the real interest behind it.
Clark just continued to grin at her. No question about it, he looked entirely like…
"Ok... spit it out… why do you look like the cat that ate the Canary?" She did her best to put on her stern face. It seemed appropriate.
"Chloe, how long is it until Christmas?"
"Long enough that I'd have to do actual math to figure it out. Why?"
"Because… I picked you up a gift this morning." Clark leaned across the desk and laid several pieces of paper in front of her, neatly stapled together in one corner.
"No bow?" Picking up the papers she found herself looking at a long but not immediately significant typed up list.
"They were out of bows. Sorry."
"You really do have a minimalist approach to Christmas." Chloe sat down on the corner of the desk and tried to figure out what exactly he'd given her. " Ok Clark, I'm looking at names, addresses, and what looks like credit card numbers. Are you sure this was on my list of desired gifts?"
"That, is the list of all the guests staying at the hotel"
Chloe stared at him in shock for a moment before looking back at the pages. Then she quickly began scanning through them, looking at each and every name as if they themselves might contain some hidden meaning. "God, Clark, where… how did you get this? Never mind, I don't want to know. Do I? What were you doing this morning?"
Clark stood up from the desk and walked around it. "I spent the morning, part of it anyway, being interviewed by an FBI agent. "
Putting the pages down she moved around the desk to sit in the seat Clark had just vacated. As she walked past him she felt the brief urge to give him a thank you hug but she restrained herself. She had clues, it was time to do some work. "What did he want?"
"Just to ask me some more questions about Sunday night." Clark looked like he was getting ready to leave and when she noticed Chloe suffered a twinge of disappointment. She was surprised he wasn't going to stick around to help.
"That doesn't explain how you got the list."
"Let's just say that Agent Philips left me sitting in his office for about an hour, alone, with that list on the desk." Clark grinned at her before turning and heading for the door. "I'll be back in a bit."
Yup, she'd been right, he'd been getting ready to leave. Her curiosity quickly kicked in. "Where are you going?"
"I haven't had a chance to talk to Lana yet."
Ah. Lana. Of course.
Clark disappeared out the door and Chloe found herself alone in an office that suddenly felt much emptier. Pushing aside the twinge of doubt that still crossed her thoughts whenever Clark mentioned Lana she switched gears into the very familiar and comfortable journalistic mindset she'd been building up since she first began writing for the torch.
Step one, input every name and address from the list into her computer…
Clark found Lana in the cafeteria. She was alone, which seemed a little odd as he'd expected to find her with Whitney. A text book was spread out before her but she didn't seem to be paying any more attention to it than she was to her food, instead she was simply staring into the table as if trying to look at something embedded far beyond. Since Clark was, as far as he knew, the only Smallville student who could see through solid objects he was fairly sure that wasn't the case.
He should have talked to her sooner. Clark had lost track of Lana since the funeral, having spent most of the intervening days trying to make up for every slight he'd ever made towards Chloe. It was like the people in his life were part of a juggling act but he couldn't manage more than a couple of balls in the air at the same time. Some always ended up stuck in his hands or lost on the ground.
Sorting through the cafeteria offerings Clark purchased a moderately sized lunch before heading over to sit down across from her.
Lana looked up and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly when she saw who it was. "Hi Clark."
"Lana." Clark looked down to see what book was in front of her. It was a math text, open to a chapter that had been assigned more than two weeks ago. She was still on the first page. "How are you?"
"Do you want the polite answer or the real answer?" She smiled as if it were a joke, but her voice wasn't in it.
"The truth." She must be taking the death of Whitney's father hard, and he'd apparently been too clueless to notice. So much for his resolution to pay more attention to people.
"In that case, I've been better."
He found himself frowning unintentionally. "I'm sorry."
Lana's eyes widened. "Why should you be sorry?"
"Because it took me a week and a half and a request before I thought to ask you how you're doing?"
This produced Lana's first real smile. "You've just been paying allot of attention to Chloe. It's sweet. And she deserves it, especially after what Justin… " She stopped, apparently deciding that some things didn't need to be remembered in too much detail. "You have nothing to apologize for Clark."
Clark felt a little better after hearing the words, but looking at Lana he could still see the sadness permeating her eyes. That was no good. "What's wrong Lana?"
"Aside from the obvious?"
"You can include the obvious. I promise not to hold it against you." That earned him another smile.
"Well… Whitney and his Mother are both completely depressed. Every time I'm over at their house someone ends up crying and I always find myself joining in. Then by the time I get home I'm completely drained. I don't think I've slept through the night since the funeral. Nell is worried sick." She shook her head. "... and in the meantime I've fallen so far behind in math class that I have no clue what the teacher is talking about anymore. At the rate I'm going I'll probably fail the finale exam"
"Maybe you should take a break."
Lana looked at him quizzically.
"Just step away for a couple of days to recharge."
She shook her head. "I can't do that to them. They need every bit of morale support they can get right now."
Silence fell between Lana and Clark, neither quite sure what to say. He was the first to break it.
"Well, I can help with the math part at least." School in general, but math in particular, had never posed any difficulty for Clark.
"Actually that was why I was looking for you. I figured if anyone could save me from a horrible grade it would be you."
"Definitely, just tell me when." Something he could help with, good. Clark hated feeling useless, at least this way he'd be doing something for her.
"How about we start tomorrow at lunch and go from there?"
"Deal."
She looked relieved, like he'd just agreed to help her lift a bit of the weight on her shoulders. Maybe she'd sleep a little better that night, he doubted it, but he could hope.
"Clark, how well did you know Whitney's father?"
"Not well, I only talked to him a couple of times."
She smiled sadly before continuing. "He was really nice."
Clark didn't know what to say.
Eventually Lana pushed away her tray and stated quietly that she'd lost her appetite.
Clark had lost his as well.
The pair talked softly until the lunch bell rang.
