Note : Ok… I've writing a whole chapter at once just to be weird. It helps that I'm FINALLY at a point where I felt comfortable creating an outline for the rest of the story. The next 5-10 chapters worth of it anyway. This is the longest and most coherent chapter so far.

As always, feedback == good. How else will I know if my writing completely sucks or not? :)



Chapter 4:

Chloe sat silently, waiting for Clark to say something more. They had a clue, the most circumstantial of clues fair enough but it beat walking around in the dark with a broken flashlight. There was nothing, or at least nothing remotely safe, that they could do with it themselves so the next obvious step was calling the police. This begged the question of why Clark was going through an internal debate on the subject. Not that she minded and not that she couldn't have snapped him out of it if she'd really wanted to.

But with her luck he'd take his hands away, the ones that had at some point found their way onto her shoulders and the trade off really didn't seem worth it. He was making just the smallest of motions, not exactly a massage, just a gentle movement of his thumbs here followed by the subtlest of squeezes there. And for some reason it felt really, really nice.

No, she had no intention of interrupting him.

As if that internal confession had been his queue he let his hands slowly slide from her shoulders before taking a step back. "Agent Philips."

Spinning her chair around while trying to hide her disappointment, Chloe found herself greeted with what she liked to call the savior complex version of Clark. Focussed, intense, and ready to set off to save the world. When Clark got in that mode he bore far too much resemblance to a self styled super hero. Some day he was going to get himself hurt.

Chloe thought back to their conversation the morning before, where she had insisted on investigating the murder case, and was forced to admit that, maybe, she wasn't in a position to cast stones. But how often did you get the chance to track down an honest to god psychopath and reveal him to an entire country in black and white newsprint? Or in her case the entirety of Smallville but it was a step in the right direction.

It wasn't the same thing at all.

Flashback. Clark's barn, rustic and filled with the sent of hay. Clark's worried voice on the phone as she tried to tell him what she'd found out because who else was she going to tell? Justin throwing her around, taunting her, all traces of the romantic, quirky teenager wiped or peeled away to be replaced with cruelty and anger. Darkness as something solid collided with her head and the sudden knowledge that she was about to die…

Only to find herself looking into those two worried blue eyes staring down at her, Justin's unconscious form crumpled and forgotten against the far wall, and suddenly she'd realized that maybe she wasn't going to die after all.

No, on second thought, let Clark play super hero, Chloe would be the last person to complain. She'd just have to make sure she was around to drag 'his' ass out of the fire when he finally bit off more than he could chew.

She never did figure out how Clark had gotten to the barn fast enough to stop Justin.

"Chloe?" There were those blue eyes again. "We should call agent Philips, from what I saw it looks like he's pretty much in charge."

It only took her a moment to realize that she was supposed to be saying something. "Um, sure, that makes sense. I can't think of anything else we can do on our own. He didn't tell you why the FBI has taken over by any chance?"

Clark shook his head and reached for the phone. "No, and I was feeling too guilty about the list to ask. I'll try the police station, they should know how I can get in touch with him."

Turning back to the computer Chloe looked at the one measly lead she'd managed to dig up, by the brute force method of running every name on the list through every search engine she could think of no less. One part persistence and nine parts luck. Chloe tried to think of something else she could do but came up blank, a sensation she was neither familiar with nor happy about.

"Chloe" For some reason Clark hadn't phoned yet and he was looking at her with the oddest expression.

"Yes?"

"Why do you smell like raspberries?"

Wow, he'd actually noticed.

"New Soap." She then tossed him a teasing grin "Do you like it?"

And with an entire lack of typical Clark awkwardness he simply nodded before turning back to the phone. "Yes. I do."

After the shock faded, Chloe relaxed into her chair and waited patiently for the world to end, for time to go into reverse, or for the person talking on the phone to admit that the real Clark had been abducted and he was just an alien imposter.





Gabriel had run, but he hadn't run very far. No one had tried to follow him as he fled into the depths of the rampaging storm. Gabriel had always felt like someone was trying to find him, to track him down, but never before had he ever actually met the sorry excuse for a predator. His curiosity was peaked.

Turning he headed back in what was roughly the direction of the hotel, walking casually as he tried to project an air of irrelevance and disinterest.

Across the street a group of obnoxious teenagers passing by almost stopped to look at him, turning in his direction in a way they never would have considered doing at night.

Look away, look around, nothing to see but shadows…

It wasn't enough, their attention was still moving in his direction.

Look the fuck away or your eyes are going to be plucked from your skull while your…

That did it. Their eyes slid past him as if he wasn't there and even from the other side of the road he could taste their terrified shivers. One of them tried to make a joke but the rest just stayed silent and began walking a little bit faster, anxious to be elsewhere without really knowing why.

He briefly considered going back and killing them, but dismissed the idea. His body was already alternating between placidity and giddiness from the recent kills. It was having trouble accommodating the sensation with an hour of the day in which he would normally still be deep in slumber.

As Gabriel neared the hotel he began to look for someplace he could watch from, someplace he could hide unseen from watchful eyes while he took a good look at his hunter.

And his prey.





The world still existed and time continued to march continuously forwards, so much for absolutes. Chloe was trying to observe Clark out of the corner of her eye and pay attention to the road in front of them at the same time. It wouldn't have been the best split of focus in a busy city like Metropolis, but in Smallville traffic was rarely heavy and, at that particular moment, seemed almost non existent.

The reason she was driving was that the officer at the police station had been almost completely unhelpful. Clark had described him as "vague" and "distracted". At mention of agent Philips there had been an obscure comment directing them to the hotel after which Clark had been summarily disconnected. It wasn't a shining example of Smallville hospitality. Maybe he had a major crime spree to deal with or something, who knew. Chloe had tried calling the hotel, but for some reason Mr. Finn wasn't answering the front desk.

All that had been left was to drive down in person.

"Chloe?" Clark had turned to look at her. They'd been silent for the first part of the drive, each lost in their own speculations.

"Yes Clark?"

"Did you have any plans for tonight?" She thought about the physics homework that she'd been meaning to take care of, the article that she'd hoped to finish up for the Torch and the dinner that she'd been going to share with her father. Then she looked at Clark and forgot all about them.

"Not at the moment."

"Then, after we're done here, is there any chance you'd let me buy you dinner?" She could count on one hand the number of times he'd offered to take her out to supper, and all of them had been in the past week and a half. The assertive part of her that was used to thinking of Clark as a friend insisted on pointing out that she was very capable of buying her own food. It objected to the change in footing. The part of her that was more focussed on being a teenage girl went a little gooey inside and tried not to grin.

"You twisted my arm. But I get to pick where." She let the teenage part go and the grin emerged, finding immediate reciprocation.

"Deal."

Next time she'd simply take 'him' out to supper to make up for it, the look on his face would be worth it. It would also make a good compromise, as it would satisfy both the independent woman and teenage girl parts of her at the same time. "And then afterwards we can stop by the Talon, sip coffee, and make fun of Pete when he brings by his fifth date this month."

As Chloe pulled up to the hotel she found herself staring at a half dozen police officers who were busy cordoning off the parking lot, all of them looking completely miserable. In the background she could see more people moving in and out of the hotel or searching the lot, many of them looked like they were armed for a war instead of a crime scene. Chloe was forced to park a short distance down the street, having been waved away when they got too close to the officers.

"I wonder what happened here." Chloe filled the sentence with appropriate confusion. No one would pay that much attention to a two-day-old crime scene.

In an attempt to avoid some of the rain she pulled out the single umbrella that she normally kept stashed in her back seat. When she moved to share the protection with Clark she held it in a way that forced him to walk close or risk a thorough drenching. Waste not want not, it was a saying for a reason.

"No idea. It explains why the guy at the station was so distracted though." He paused, and without further speculation to offer decided to continue their earlier conversation instead. "When did Pete become such a ladies man anyway? I still remember when he turned speechless because a girl asked him to Lana's birthday party."

"I think he saw the way you were acting around girls and decided to become the anti-Clark." Did she just say that out loud? Chloe thought about it for a second before deciding that, yes, she had said that out loud.

Clark seemed to take the comment with surprisingly good humor "So you what, think I should be cave man Clark and drag women by the handful back to my barn?"

Once again proving he had indeed been raised on a farm, didn't he get it when…

Chloe almost shrieked, then collided with Clark as several unseen fingers, attached she was fairly sure to the arm Clark had reached around her when she wasn't watching, took a brief moment to tickle her with surprising effectiveness. She ended up pressed against his side with his arm holding her loosely against him. She could tell he wanted to laugh at her reaction and, really, she didn't mind.

Apparently he got it after all.

When they turned back to the hotel they found themselves facing some very nervous looking police officers, several of whom had obviously started to reach for their guns at her unexpected outburst. Clark and Chloe separated as they felt the tension in the air for the first time. Something had definitely happened, something bad.

Chloe took the lead as they walked towards the recently installed line of police tape, doing her best to look like a serious journalist. Of course she was damp at best and soaked at worst, the blowing wind having circumvented the umbrella for the most part, and all of the police officers had just heard her making very unprofessional sounds, but Chloe was up to the task. It was all about demeanor.

"We'd like to speak to Agent Philips." Yes, she sounded very much like a journalist. They'd have to take her seriously.

"Yah, sure, this area is off limits at the moment miss so if you'd mind just stepping back…" or maybe not.

"Can you just tell him that Clark Kent is here and wants to speak with him? He knows who I am." As journalistic seriousness had failed before it even began, Clark was obviously going to try Kent Charm. He probably had on that friendly 'I'm a nice guy who you really want to help out' face, the one that usually looked just the slightest bit desperate.

"Uh huh." The officer scowled at as if trying to decide what set of actions would cause him the least inconvenience. He didn't seem to be in the most generous of moods.

Chloe decided to tip the scales. "If he says he doesn't want to talk to us we'll turn around and walk away. I promise." She waited several seconds before adding, "It's important."

The officer sighed, but in the end decided that it would be the easiest way to get rid of them. "Fine. Just wait here." Before leaving he turned half way back to deliver a single parting comment. "And don't cross this line, everyone is trigger happy right now."

The last part had held genuine concern, maybe she hadn't given him enough credit.

They watched as he marched out to a group of what must be federal agents. The man he addressed was wearing what she could only assume was a blue flak jacket and carrying a rifle, just like the rest of them, but unlike the rest he didn't look like he spent most of his time lifting weights. He also looked just a bit too young to be in charge of so many people. He turned his head to glance in their direction before looking back at the officer and giving him some instructions.

"He's going to let us in." Clark whispered the words from behind Chloe, she hadn't realized that he'd moved that close to her.

"How do you know that, he might have just told him to arrest us for all I can tell."

The officer they'd been talking to returned and Clark's response went unsaid. The tape was held up and they were motioned under.

First a telekinetic, now a clairvoyant, she was developing an interesting pattern where men were concerned. Though in all fairness, she corrected herself, the clairvoyant came first and the telekinetic was, at best, a pit stop.

As they approached agent Philips Chloe concluded that if she had formed expectations concerning him, he wouldn't have met them. Tall with a face that might have been considered ruggedly handsome under the right circumstances, the effect was ruined by the impression that he was… underfed? That wasn't quite right, but his cheeks just seemed a bit too hollow, and his eyes were just a fraction too intense. When he spoke his voice had the confident air of someone that was fully in charge and knew it.

How old was he… thirty? Surely he couldn't be more than thirty…

"Clark, the officer said you had something to tell me." He didn't take the time for pleasantries, nor did he so much as glance in Chloe's direction. Either he was very rude, or very preoccupied.

"Yes, though from all this…" Clark was sweeping his gaze around, looking at the multitude of people and the literal arsenal. "What happened?"

Now the agent finally looked at Chloe.

Yes, hey. it's me, I'm here. Thanks for noticing.

Then after a quick glance he looked immediately back at Clark. She finally understood what it felt like to be chopped liver. "Just tell me what you know Clark, I really can't talk about this right now."

Clark nodded, obviously deciding it would be better to share before they got kicked out instead of after. "Steven Polluck. I think he's the person you're looking for."

The agent's face transitioned from exhaustion, to shock, to alertness at the words. He'd recognized the name. "Actually, I already know that. But I'd love to know how you found out."

Clark handed him the print out from the convention. "Apparently he was supposed to be at that convention on Sunday, but no one has heard from him in over a week. Instead he disappeared, and somehow showed up on that bus headed to Metropolis. I realize it's not much…"

The agent shook his head, "no, but it would have been enough." He looked at Chloe again, but this time he actually watched her, evaluating her. She just stared back. A condescending grin crossed his haggard face and Chloe decided that she really, really wanted to slap him. General good manners, professionalism, and the disturbing number of people with dangerous looking guns deterred her from any such action.

"Who's your friend Clark?"

Ah… permission to speak. How nice. Chloe stepped forward and lifted her hand to imply that she expected a handshake. "Chloe Sullivan, editor for the Smallville Torch. Pleased to meet you Agent Philips."

To her surprise this seemed to please him to no end and he shook her hand with an air of amusement. "Likewise. So are you two going to tell me how you knew this Steven Polluck was on the bus?"

Clark and Chloe looked at each other for a moment. Clark was the one who spoke, it was he after all who had snatched the list. "Does it matter?"

"No, probably not. Anyway you don't need to worry about it anymore, he's escaped and is on his way to Metropolis by now. He's on foot, so if we're lucky we'll be able to catch him some where in the middle. Clark, Miss Sullivan…" The agent began to turn around, obviously considering them dismissed.

Not yet. "Agent Philips, is that what happened here? You tried to catch him?" A slight cloud dropped over the agent's face when he realized they obviously hadn't taken the hint. Beside her Clark looked slightly uncomfortable but that didn't matter, sometimes you had to be pushy, Clark hadn't figured that out yet.

"Yah, that's what happened." Philips sounded haggard now, as if she'd brought up a painful memory.

"What went wrong?"

Mistake. She'd pushed a button. She wasn't quite sure what button but from the growl it produced in his throat it must be someplace sensitive. He stepped towards Chloe, obviously planning to get right into her face and intimidate her. Clark stepped between without hesitation.

The two men ended up so close that their noses were almost touching. The anger in the agent's face was still obvious, but now it was directed at a new target.

"She's right. We deserve to know what's going on." Yup, a big cuddly guard dog, that was Clark all right. His voice sounded calm, and determined. As far as Chloe could tell he couldn't care less about the big nasty looking gun hanging from agent Philips' shoulder.

The agent didn't back down, but he did look away, briefly aiming his gaze at some of the local police littering the seen. He then looked back into Clark's eyes and took a small step backwards before favoring them both with a bitter smile. "It doesn't matter I guess, it'll probably be all over the news by tomorrow. He wasn't where we were expecting him to be, and three agents died. My agents. Now get the hell out of here before I have you thrown out."

The time for pushiness was far past, and the two did their best to stage a dignified withdrawal.



From the top of a near by building Gabriel watched as the two teenagers turned and walked away. For some reason the man they'd been talking to looked familiar, but Gabriel couldn't figure out why no matter how hard he tried. But he was sure of one thing.

That was the man that had tried to trap him. Normally Gabriel would just take the direct route and gut him, but this wasn't normal. No one hunted him, he hunted them. An infraction of that magnitude deserved more than a quick death in response.

The two teenagers were interesting, they stood out amidst the sea of uniforms and Gabriel felt his eyes drawn to the cute little blonde. The cocky jock beside her didn't interest him, not really his type, but she… Gabriel wondered what the wannabe hunter's reaction would be if he woke up tomorrow to find her head in front of his hotel room door.

No, decapitated heads were too much of a cliché. Gabriel would leave the feet too, if only to show that he had a sense of originality.





"I don't get it Chloe." And he didn't, there were many things in the world that didn't make sense to him but this new revelation was completely and utterly mind boggling. "I've never understood what people find thrilling about watching fake villains find as many ways as possible to chop people up. I figured you of all people would write them off as being without any dramatic merit."

"But that's just it, not everything is about drama. Sometimes the baser part of the human psyche just wants to soak in some violence. Hack and slash films are like the overkill version, a couple of doses all at once and you can spend the rest of the year being your normal civilized self." She stopped briefly to take a sip of her coffee before continuing. "And besides, some of them are so fake they're absolutely hilarious."

Clark just shook his head. "All this time, I never realized you actually enjoyed Pete's Halloween marathons. So are you saying that all the freaks in Smallville simply didn't watch enough horror movies? That if we'd just made them sit down and watch Friday the whatever parts one through infinity they'd have been so thoroughly overdosed on violence that they couldn't even think about hurting anyone?"

She nodded "If the state would just accept my theory we could empty the prisons and mental wards within a year. I thought you liked Pete's marathons, if you don't like them why do you always go?"

"I like the company." That earned him a grin, and it was true. Even if he wasn't particularly fond of the movies themselves, watching Chloe and Pete cringe and shudder as a man in a mask hacked off people's limbs had become an immediate guilty pleasure.

"So… Chloe… Clark…" Pete came up behind where they were sitting and put one arm around each of their shoulders. "How's it going?"

Clark waited for the appearance of Pete's date, and then found himself waiting some more as she never appeared. "Weren't you supposed to be here with Casandra tonight?"

Pete walked around the table and sat down. "I got stood up. I waited at her door for five minutes before I finally realized that there was no one home." Pete only looked slightly disappointed, he hadn't been lacking for female companionship lately. "I don't get it, I talked to her this morning and she said she was looking forward to it."

Pete looked up and eyed them before continuing. "But enough about me, how are my two favorite people doing? Is Clark treating you right Chloe?"

Clark managed to swallow the coffee, but only barely. It had expressed a very insistent desire to exit via his nostrils but he'd managed to restrain it. Pete enjoyed teasing him far too much.

Chloe on the other hand didn't seem to mind at all. She slipped her fingers between his before responding. Maybe he didn't mind either.

"Actually Mr. Kent bought me dinner… preceded by a romantic tour of a grisly murder scene. What more could a girl ask for?" It was Pete's turn to nearly eject his coffee.

"What?"

They proceeded to tell Pete all about the hotel and the FBI's botched attempt at apprehension while Pete cooperated by expressing shock and dismay at all the appropriate points. "See, Clark, this is why you two are perfect together. If you'd brought any other girl to see a couple of dead bodies…"

"We didn't actually see any bodies."

Pete waved the comment aside. "… they'd have turned around and run in the other direction as fast as possible."

Chloe squinted at Pete, probably trying to decide if he was entirely clear on what he was talking about. "And that makes sense how?"

"Dead bodies… Bee Ladies… over-psyched Hypnotists… it's all the same." Something caught his attention and he looked towards the Talon entrance for a moment before continuing. "Sorry you two, Cassandra may have abandoned me but the night is young. I'll catch up with you later." Clark followed Pete's gaze back toward the front door where two of the younger, prettier and most importantly single, girls from his physics class had just walked in the door.

"Good luck." Pete was already too far-gone to hear. Clark turned back to Chloe, who looked very pleased for reasons unfathomed, "You honestly think I'm the one who inspired him to that?"

"It's entirely your fault."

"You wound me."

"I enlighten you."

"That too…"





An hour and several large doses of caffeine later Chloe finally gave into her guilt. She'd tried to ignore it, but Lana had been eyeing Clark from behind the counter off and on all evening. The fact that Clark hadn't noticed, that he'd instead happily sat there joking with Chloe while holding her hand, was going a long way towards curing her Lana insecurities. But Chloe knew what it felt like to be on the wrong side of Clark obtuseness and, in the end, she simply had to say something.

"Clark," she internally braced herself while making sure Clark saw no hint of her reservations "I get the impression that Lana really wants you to go over and talk to her."

She watched while Clark thought about what she'd said, pensive but not immediately obsessive. So far so good.

After several moments he shook his head, "No, I'll talk to her tomorrow. Right now I'm talking to you."

Again there were no global catastrophes, what an unusual day. "Tomorrow?"

He nodded. "I told her I'd help her out with math at lunch tomorrow. That's what she wanted to ask me about"

Moving down her list of 'things to find out' she checked off 'what's bothering Lana' and filled in the answer. Then to be sure "That's all?"

"That's all."

Spiffy.

Chloe checked her watch. Late, but not too late, it was dark outside but not oppressively so. The rain had stopped shortly after sunset, giving way to clear skies and a full moon. It was time for a change of venue.

"I think Pete," she glanced over to where Pete was chatting up the two girls, apparently unwilling to settle for just one of them. "… is lost for the evening. Why don't we head back to your place, watch a movie…"

… or make out on the couch…

"… or something."

Chloe forced her mind down a gear. Clark and Kissing (capital K required) were two things she was still trying to bring together. They belonged together, sort of like peanut butter and chocolate.

His smile was innocent and completely unaware of her lecherous thoughts. "Sure."

She'd work him up to it. For tonight number two on her list, the recently added cuddling on a couch, would do nicely.





The door to the Talon opened, and the blond teenager emerged. He adjusted his opinion, she wasn't cute, she was 'too' cute. Cute to the point where he just wanted to throw up. She was slightly rumpled from the storm, her hair still out of place and her dress beginning to wrinkle, but she didn't seem to care. Neither did her chaperone, the tall dark haired jock that couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her, apparently he was naturally immune to excessive levels of cuteness.

He'd have to kill them both now, what a pity.

Chuckling as if he'd made a joke, Gabriel detached himself from the wall and followed them, his shape an unnoticed shadow on the far side of the street.