Chapter Three: Questions Answered

"Chloe, babe, I don't think that smell is ever going to go aw—" Pete stopped halfway in the door when he noted the office full of gardenias and one very confused Chloe sitting at her desk. "Wow, déjà vu." Chloe looked up at him but didn't move from her chair.

"I'm not going crazy, am I Pete?" she asked, her voice holding just a touch of desperation. "I took these home yesterday, didn't I? I know I did—they're currently at my house, taking up half of the available space. So what are they doing back here?"

"I think these are new ones, Chlo," Pete responded slowly as he tried to hold back his laughter.

"Ok," she nodded. "Ok, just making sure." Her eyes slowly focused again, then narrowed slightly. "Well, if this is a new bunch of flowers, then there must be a new one of…"

Pete watched, bemused, as Chloe jumped up and began rooting around in the fragrant flowers. After only a few moments she straightened and triumphantly held up a small white envelope.

"These!" she finished. With a jubilant expression she plopped back down in the chair and quickly opened the envelope. Her eyes scanned the paper several times before her eyes lit up with a look that Pete recognized well. This was Chloe hot on the trail of a story.

"Well, that certainly answers that question," she murmured to herself.

"What question? What's it say?" Chloe looked surprised, as if she had forgotten Pete was in the room. After a moment, however, she smiled.

"The question of why all the secrecy." She glanced back down at the paper and started to read.

"Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'

hierarchies? And even if one of them pressed me

suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed

in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is

nothing

but the beginning of terror, which we still are just

able to endure,

and we are so awed because it serenely disdains

to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying."

She smiled again, this time in self-satisfaction. "I think I know who it is."

Pete waited a beat. "Well don't keep me in suspense, Chloe. Who is it?"

"I think it's Connor." Seeing Pete's surprised expression, she continued. "Let's look at the evidence." Chloe reached into her backpack and pulled out a small notebook, which she opened to a marked page; from where he was standing he could see carefully written notes detailing what had happened since she had made her discovery yesterday. When she caught his amused look, she looked slightly embarrassed.

"Shut up. I'm a reporter—this is how I work." Her eyes scanned the page until she found what she was looking for. Without taking her eyes from her notes, she held up a finger.

"One: I have a strong suspicion—from body language and whatnot—that one Mr. Connor Maloney has a bit of a crush on me. Two," another finger went up, "his parents own a flower shop." A third finger. "Three: He said something yesterday that's similar enough to what's in this note to warrant closer investigation. And finally," her gaze finally rose to pin Pete's, "he accidentally let something slip that gave me the distinct impression that he was planning something he didn't want to tell me about yet. What all of this adds up to, my friend, is a chief suspect."

The bell rang and they both grabbed their bags to head to class. Halfway there, Chloe turned to Pete, looking nervous.

"What do you think, Pete? Do you think it might be him?"

"Seems like the most likely candidate. And I've definitely caught him scopin' you out a few times." He knew his teasing was working when a blush started staining her face. By that time they had almost reached her classroom. "One thing's for sure—he'd be way better than the psychotic mutants you've been going with lately. Catch ya later girl." With that he walked off to his own class, leaving her standing shocked by the doorway.

Chloe slowly made her way inside and to her seat, lost in thought. She knew Pete hadn't meant anything by it, but she wondered if maybe he wasn't right. When she thought over it, she realized that every one of the guys she had been involved with in the past few years had been some kind of unstable lunatic, often homicidal and usually with some fun meteor-induced mutation added on just for kicks. What if Connor was the same? It would certainly fit the current pattern of her life. In fact, the only guy she had been remotely attached to who didn't have any kind of weird super-human powers was Clark.

When Chloe surfaced from her thoughts the bell for lunch was ringing and she couldn't quite remember what the teacher had said in her last class…well, in any of her classes, really. The only thing she was sure of was that she had asked Clark to meet her in the Torch office to help her load the new batch of flowers into her car during lunch. With that in mind she headed that way and got there just as Clark was walking in the door.

"Hey, Clark. Um, do you mind if I ask you something before get started with the heavy lifting?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem," he said, guiding her to a chair. He could tell something was wrong—Chloe had that smile that she only wore when she was really upset about something. "What is it, Chloe?"

"Um…this is going to sound weird, but…well, has Connor been acting weird lately? You know: exhibiting a strange green glow, growing fins, trying to attack bitter rivals, stuff like that? I know he didn't grow up here or anything so he's probably ok, but better safe than sorry, right?"

"What? Chloe, are you feeling okay?" Clark put a hand to her forehead, looking genuinely concerned. Chloe couldn't help but give a small laugh.

"I'm fine, Clark," she said, gently pushing his hand away. "It's just something that Pete said that's got me spooked, is all." At the look he gave her she sighed, knowing she wasn't going to be able to get away with that as an explanation. Taking a deep breath, she rushed on. "Ok, I think it may be Connor who's sending me the flowers, and something Pete said made me think about all the relationships I've been in recently and now I'm afraid that maybe he's some kind of psychopathic meteor mutant."

Clark just blinked, trying to process the rapid-fire stream of information; he was fairly impressed that she had managed to get all of that out in a single breath. Not sure how to respond, he simply said the first thing that came to mind.

"So you think it's Connor, huh?"

That brilliant statement earned him a slap on the arm, which he had the good sense to pretend hurt.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Chloe still looked worried, so he reached out and took her hand. "Chloe, just because a guy likes you doesn't automatically make him a sociopath."

"I know that," she admitted reluctantly. "It's just that lately it seems like I'm some kind of a magnet for crazies."

Clark laughed at that. "Chlo, you are not a crazy-magnet. Say it with me: 'Just because someone likes me—'"

"Doesn't make them a sociopath," she finished with him. The hint of a real smile graced her face and Clark grinned.

"Good. But, if it makes you feel any better, I haven't seen a single gill on Connor in the entire time I've known him." When that earned him a full-fledged Chloe smile, complete with rolling eyes, he pulled her to her feet. "C'mon. Let's get this garden loaded up before it mutates on us."

If Chloe thought that Connor helping had gotten the job done fast, she wasn't anywhere near prepared for how quickly it went with Clark. She didn't know what kind of food his mom fed him on that farm, but she'd swear that boy could carry three times his own body weight, and he never seemed to get tired. Maybe it was from all the chores that he had to do, she mused. In any case, they finished with half of their lunch period to spare. As a thank-you, Chloe bought him what little food he'd have time to eat before their next class.

The rest of her day went fairly smoothly. With her worries about Connor at least partially abated she was able to focus her mind on other, more pressing concerns. Concerns like letting Clark take over her customary Friday job of putting the paper to bed. He had been hounding her about it for some time, and she had finally admitted that as the assistant editor perhaps he should occasionally shoulder some of the responsibility. So, she had reluctantly agreed to let him step in once a month while she got what he termed "a well-deserved night off."

Since there was nothing she could do about that particular situation, she had a choice during her last class of listening to her teacher drone on about the high points of the civil war, or going over the information in her notebook again. Half a second of thought later, she slipped the smaller notebook over her larger one for class notes, grateful that she sat in a much-neglected area of the room. After all, she reasoned, she had already spaced out for most of the day. She'd just pretend this was a sick day and get the notes from Pete tomorrow.

There they were, in black and white—all of the meager clues she had pieced together on her mysterious admirer. All the evidence seemed to point to Connor, but for some reason she wasn't quite satisfied. Several minutes of staring at her notes revealed only one reason for her unrest. She had hoped it was Lex, plain and simple. Lord, could she get any more pathetic? As far as idiotic crushes went, this one was in the hall of fame. Older, a millionaire used to dating supermodels, her father's boss and—once again—her friend. Maybe she was just subconsciously drawn to completely unsuitable guys.

She looked over her notes again. Connor was a nice guy, and she was fairly sure that he liked her. Maybe she should give him a chance. If it was even him leaving the flowers, that is. The bell rang and she shot a silent thanks to the heavens. Finally, this day was over and she could get out of there, away from the confusion that her life seemed to be steeped in lately. How long was this guy going to make her wait, she wondered, before he revealed who he was?

When she made it to her locker the books that she needed weren't there; she must have left them in the Torch office. She made her way down there, holding her hands up innocently when Clark shot her a "you aren't supposed to be here today" look.

"I'm not staying, I promise, just picking up some stuff I left." Under Clark's watchful gaze she made her way over to the table next to her desk and grabbed some books, quickly stuffing them in her bag. When her eyes fell on the top of her desk she froze in surprise, unable to do more than stare at what was sitting there.

"Chloe? What is it?" Clark made his way around the stacks of books and papers until he could see what Chloe was looking at. There, lying open, was a copy of the book she and Lana had found in the flower shop, a single red tulip and another one of the small square envelopes lying across its pages.

Moving in slow motion, she picked up the flower and note. Her eyes traveled down the page until she came to the meaning listed for red tulips.

{Tulip, Red: Declaration of love.}

She opened the envelope, her eyes not leaving the page until she had pulled out the note it contained.

"Marvell," she murmured as she read it.

{Had we but world enough, and time,

This coyness, Lady, were no crime.

We would sit down and think which way

To walk and pass our long love's day…}

"That's two questions answered," she said to herself. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "I guess I'll be seeing you soon."

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TBC…