Part Five
CLARK
I watch my sleeping mother and my unconscious father and wonder, is this how my life always ends up? Someone always getting hurt.
I haven't even begun to think about my spaceship and where it is but at this moment in time, I don't have the strength to.
Funny that, me not having the strength.
I can pick up a truck but can't even think about what to do next in my life.
I peer at my father and the lump in my throat grows and I can hardly swallow it.
He was trying to protect me and look where it got him. I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around.
I wonder sometimes, should I just leave and never look back.just walk away from my family and my friends. friends. Chloe!
I quickly rush to the nearest payphone and slot in a few coins, punching in Chloe's mobile number.
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I say quickly.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," Chloe replies coldly. She sounds really annoyed.
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," I say, the words barely coming out.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," Chloe's voice is full of sympathy and concern and I wish she was here, right now.
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.,"
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" she cuts in.
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up."
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.
In the background, I can hear a male voice. I wonder who that is?
"No, not yet," I reply, my fists clenching together.
"Is he ok?"
"He's still unconscious," I say and look down the hall and at my father's room, my eyes sting a little.
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"
Then a nurse appears, walking towards me, "Clark Kent, your father's awake."
A sigh of relief escapes my mouth, "Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later,"
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says.
"Thanks," I reply and I feel slightly better.
"Ok, bye," with that she hangs up.
I quickly rush to my father's room and find my mother clutching his hand tightly, tears of joy running down her face.
"Dad," I say loudly, walking forward.
"Hey son. Back so, soon from Metropolis?" he asks, smiling.
I smile back and sit down by his bed.
"Jonathan.," my mum says gently.
My dad's face then becomes more serious and he stares at me, his left eye still quite swollen, "son, your spaceship.I shouldn't have.it's my fault.,"
"No, don't worry about it," I reply quietly, squeezing his hand.
"No son, it is. If people find out about you then.you'll be taken away and I could never forgive myself."
His eyes were so, full of guilt and regret and it made me hate myself and what I am.
And so, I decided right there and then, I was going to get my spaceship back and remove that look in my father's eyes because he doesn't deserve to have that kind of guilt and especially not because of me.
CHLOE
"Here we are," Lex said, stopping at a posh Italian restaurant, "you do like Italian, I hope,"
"Yeah, I love it," I reply, letting Lex help me out.
As we make our way in, Lex lightly places his hand on my back and guides me in. It sends a shiver up my spine.
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," a slimy looking man says, walking up to Lex and shaking his hand like a maniac. I assume he's the manager.
I watch Lex handle him with an air of disdain, he probably gets people like this all the time.
I've never noticed it before but watching Lex right now, he's so, cool and forceful. His sense of power seems to fill the whole room and when he asks the man for the best table in the restaurant, the man immediately jumps to attention and leads the way.
Now, if only I could get people do that for me.
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music plays in the background and I could enjoy this, if I wasn't so, pissed off with Clark.
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" he asks, motioning to the waiter for the menus.
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," I say, taking a menu off the waiter.
"That could be arranged," Lex replies, with a glint of danger in his eye.
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks," I say, feeling a little hot. I decide to change the subject, "So, what were you doing there?"
Lex looks up and seems to be thinking something over, "I was doing an interview."
"But I thought you never did interviews?" I ask intrigued.
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," Lex answers coolly, looking like he's hiding something.
Blackmail I think to myself and I wonder how many secrets Lex Luthor has buried under his surface. What a story it would be, if I could uncover them.
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.
"Coffee," I reply automatically.
Lex laughs and nods at the waiter for the same.
"You are a true journalist," he says, smiling at me.
I feel my cheeks burn.
"So, what was your interview about?" I ask, thinking back to how smug Trevor looked this morning.
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," Lex says, a sadness in his voice.
"I'm sure he won't."
Lex looks at me with that older I-know-better look, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"
I pout slightly, "Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you."
"Really?" he says, raising his eyebrow.
I nod and he looks at me, reaching for my hand, "Chloe.,"
"Ring, ring." My mobile screams.
I mouth sorry at Lex and grab my phone.
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I hear him say.
My anger flares up in me.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," I reply, hoping he can sense how annoyed I am.
At the mention of Clark's name, Lex looks at me, suddenly very interested.
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," Clark says, his voice barely audible.
As soon as I hear the news, my anger disappears and I shake my head for being so, selfish.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," I reply, trying to sound sorry and sympathetic.
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.," I can sense that the situation isn't great.
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" I cut in, trying to make him feel a little better.
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up,"
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" I say lowering my voice; people were starting to look at me.
"Chloe," Lex says, squeezing my hand. But I shake it off and concentrate on what Clark has to say.
"No, not yet," Clark replies, anger in his voice.
But now the more important question looms, "Is he ok?"
"He's still unconscious,"
"I'm sorry, Clark.," I don't know what else to say.
I then hear a female voice in the background and a sigh of relief from Clark.
"Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later."
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," I say, I don't want Clark to be unhappy.
"Thanks," he replies, sounding a little happier.
"Ok, bye," I say, hanging up.
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" Lex asked, although he doesn't sound very concerned.
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," I say, not wanting to say too much.
"The storm cellar?" he says, but I don't think his reply was directed at me.
Then our waiter comes over and whispers something into Lex's ear but I can't quite hear what he's saying.
He then looks down at his watch and nods, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."
I look at him slightly confused, "No, it's fine."
"Another time?"
I nod blankly.
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," he replies, smiling at me.
Seeing him smile, makes me feel better, "Ok, thanks."
He smiles again and then without another word, walks away.
I see the Italian manager watching him and then looking back at me, fear in his eyes.
***
The next day, I wake up and pull myself to "The Daily Planet."
Clark rang me last night and told me that his father was awake and fine, apart from a few cuts and bruises. They already found the culprits, Abe Merriam and Art Nickle, the two local drunks. Apparently, they were caught trespassing on the Luthor mansion the morning after their attack on Mr. Kent.
I'm just glad that he isn't hurt but the bad news is that Clark said he'd probably stay in Smallville for the present and that he was sorry that his trip was cut short. I am too.
Anyway, I'm going to do some work but then I hear Perry yelling at me, to go and photocopy about a million memos and then pass them out.
I tell him I want to be a journalist and not a personal assistant but then he turns around and says that everyone has to start at the bottom but he appreciates my spunk.
I trudge off to the photocopy room and spend about 20 minutes pressing the copy button.
Then when I'm just about finished doing all the copying and am carrying it back to my desk, Trevor doesn't-look-where-he's-going McDonald comes along and walks right into me, sending mine and his papers flying everywhere.
"Watch it," I say loudly.
He ignores me and quickly gathers up his stuff and walks off, without even saying sorry.
"Thanks for the help!" I call after him.
I sigh and begin to collect up my papers when I spot something in front of me. I edge towards it and look down at it.
It's a photograph, Trevor must have dropped it, I think.
But as I'm about to put it into the bin, I see a familiar face. I look closer and it's definite, it's Lex Luthor and. some sort of craft.
Now, what is Lex Luthor doing with this thing? And why does Trevor have a picture of this?
LEX
People say, you shouldn't hold grudges and that revenge is a waste of time. But in my life, grudges and revenge are the only real things I can count on.
I pull up to an Italian restaurant. It's got good food but annoying people.
"Here we are. You do like Italian, I hope," I ask.
"Yeah, I love it," Chloe replies.
As we make our way in, I lightly place my hand on her back and guide her in. I guess out of habit.
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," Paulo says, walking up to me and shaking my hand like a maniac.
Paulo. He makes my skin crawl but he's done a few favours for me in the past and is as faithful as a dog.
"Your best table," I say loudly.
Paulo jumps to attention and I see Chloe watching me, looking impressed.
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music playing in the background.
But now to business I think.
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" I ask, motioning to a gormless waiter.
I watch her for a second and wonder whether if she suspects.
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," she replies cheerfully.
"That could be arranged," I reply, eyeing her carefully.
But no, Chloe's not that kind of girl.
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks. So, what were you doing there?" she says.
Aaah, changing the subject and I thought I was supposed to be asking all the questions.
"I was doing an interview," and that is the truth.
"But I thought you never did interviews?" she asks, her reporter instinct taking over, I presume.
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," I answer.
That's a laugh. Friend and Trevor in the same sentence. I can think up better words to associate with his name, words like enemy, murder.
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.
"Coffee," Chloe says quickly.
I laugh, returning to the job at hand.
"You are a true journalist," I say, smiling at her.
I can see her cheeks are burning.
"So, what was your interview about?" she asks, obviously trying to draw the focus away from her.
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," I reply and it's most probably true.
And I hope he does it too, because then I have a more legitimate reason to eliminate him apart from the blackmail, of course.
"I'm sure he won't," she says sweetly.
I marvel at her innocence, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"
"Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you," she replies.
"Really?" I say. I'd love to see you try.
She nods to reassure me and it's nice, having someone that would look out for you like that.
I reach over to grab her hand, "Chloe.,"
"Ring, ring."
She mouths sorry to me and I watch her grab her mobile.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," she says, quite annoyed.
But I've heard Clark's name and I quickly look over at Chloe, wondering what they're talking about.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," she says.
What's happened?
"Don't worry about it. What happened?"
Something has happened and I think it has something to do with the spaceship.
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.
I need to find out what's happened. I'll try again.
"Chloe," I say, squeezing her hand. But she shakes me off and I'm still left in the dark.
"Is he ok?"
Someone's hurt, must be Jonathan Kent, I think to myself.
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"
Yes, Jonathan Kent.
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says, her sympathy for her friend apparent.
"Ok, bye," Chloe replies and hangs up.
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" I ask, although I already know there is.
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent, beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," Chloe replies.
I feel she's holding something back.
"The storm cellar?" I say and I start to piece the picture together.
Then our waiter comes over and whispers to me, "Jameson says that the bait has been set and the prey has been lured in, ready for capture."
Ahead of schedule, I think, as I look at my watch, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."
She looks at me slightly confused before replying, "No, it's fine."
"Another time?" I say, trying to be more sociable.
She nods blankly.
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," I say, smiling.
"Ok, thanks."
I smile again and quickly make my way out.
The anticipation of seeing Trevor's imminent defeat is killing me.
***
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson says, walking in, "he's here."
"Do you have it?" I ask impatiently.
Jameson nods and hands me a manila folder. I quickly flick through it and smile.
I remember once, when I was about 10, I saw a Great White Shark attack a seal. I remember seeing it smile before it devoured the poor creature. That day, my father told me to be a true Luthor; I had to follow that shark's example. I guess today, I am.
"Show him in," I ask, my tone softening.
Trevor McDonald steps into my office, a smirk on his face.
Pompous idiot but not for long, I think.
"You called," Trevor said haughtily, falling into a chair in front of my desk.
"And you came running," I retort coolly.
Trevor's smile fades from his face, "Don't push me, Lex. I do, still have those photos of your spaceship, don't forget."
"I never forget," I say sharply.
"Then you're a regular elephant," Trevor says, laughing at his own joke.
Fools are always the last to laugh, I think.
"So Lex, was there a point to this meeting or did you just want my company?" Trevor asks, drumming his fingers on the arm rest.
I wonder what a fool looks like when he cries?
"Does the name Elaine Richards mean anything to you?" I ask, taking a photo out of the folder, twirling it in my fingers.
I watch as the blood drains from Trevor and beads of sweat start to appear on his forehead.
"Need to refresh your memory?" I say and push the photo towards him.
He picks it up slowly and gasps quietly when he sees the woman's pale face staring back at him.
Now for the kill.
"She was a little sloppy, not quite as professional as you. But that's beginners for you, she'll learn, right?" I say, staring at him.
He looks at me with hollow eyes and I see a flicker of hope still, in his eyes.
"Wrong," I say acidly.
"What have you done with her?" he asks quietly. I admire his composure.
"Nothing much," I say, my gaze still on him.
"Yet," he replies.
"That's what I like about you Trevor; you know how to play this game. Shame, you can never win," I say, lacing my fingers together.
"What do you want?" Trevor asks, his voice shaking slightly.
"I want all the evidence about my project in my hands at ten o'clock, tomorrow morning and then I don't want any more trouble out of you. Understood?"
He nods.
"Good."
"And Elaine?" he asks, looking up into my eyes.
"She'll be safe."
I hear a loud sigh of relief escape his mouth.
"Goodbye, Trevor," I say, turning around to look out over Metropolis. The city that threatens to take me whole, if I'm not careful.
"Lex," I hear Trevor's voice call.
I breathe heavily and choose to ignore him. I've finished with him.
I hear Trevor chuckle slightly, "you're so, like your father. You know that?"
I clench my fists and fight the urge to go and throttle him.
"Fine, don't answer. Just remember one thing, there's not enough room for two Luthors to both be in control at the same time."
I turn around to face him and get up slowly, walking towards him, "I don't know why you're wasting your breath here when Elaine has only so, much time before.,"
He glares at me, "what are you talking about, Luthor? You said she was safe,"
"I said, she would be safe. Tick, tock," I say, taunting him to push me further.
"You son of a bitch," he mutters under his breath.
"Make that, a son of a Luthor," I reply icily, "better be going."
He snarls and quietly skulks off.
Revenge is sweet.
"Finished?" Jameson asks, walking in.
"Yes and now onto more important matters," I say.
Jameson looks at me interested.
"We're going back to Smallville," I announce.
"But the testing and.," he stops short, when he sees the look forming on my face.
I continue, "I'm going to pay Jonathan Kent a little visit."
"Why?" Jameson enquires.
"Because I have questions to ask and he has answers to share," I say softly.
CLARK
I watch my sleeping mother and my unconscious father and wonder, is this how my life always ends up? Someone always getting hurt.
I haven't even begun to think about my spaceship and where it is but at this moment in time, I don't have the strength to.
Funny that, me not having the strength.
I can pick up a truck but can't even think about what to do next in my life.
I peer at my father and the lump in my throat grows and I can hardly swallow it.
He was trying to protect me and look where it got him. I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around.
I wonder sometimes, should I just leave and never look back.just walk away from my family and my friends. friends. Chloe!
I quickly rush to the nearest payphone and slot in a few coins, punching in Chloe's mobile number.
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I say quickly.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," Chloe replies coldly. She sounds really annoyed.
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," I say, the words barely coming out.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," Chloe's voice is full of sympathy and concern and I wish she was here, right now.
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.,"
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" she cuts in.
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up."
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.
In the background, I can hear a male voice. I wonder who that is?
"No, not yet," I reply, my fists clenching together.
"Is he ok?"
"He's still unconscious," I say and look down the hall and at my father's room, my eyes sting a little.
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"
Then a nurse appears, walking towards me, "Clark Kent, your father's awake."
A sigh of relief escapes my mouth, "Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later,"
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says.
"Thanks," I reply and I feel slightly better.
"Ok, bye," with that she hangs up.
I quickly rush to my father's room and find my mother clutching his hand tightly, tears of joy running down her face.
"Dad," I say loudly, walking forward.
"Hey son. Back so, soon from Metropolis?" he asks, smiling.
I smile back and sit down by his bed.
"Jonathan.," my mum says gently.
My dad's face then becomes more serious and he stares at me, his left eye still quite swollen, "son, your spaceship.I shouldn't have.it's my fault.,"
"No, don't worry about it," I reply quietly, squeezing his hand.
"No son, it is. If people find out about you then.you'll be taken away and I could never forgive myself."
His eyes were so, full of guilt and regret and it made me hate myself and what I am.
And so, I decided right there and then, I was going to get my spaceship back and remove that look in my father's eyes because he doesn't deserve to have that kind of guilt and especially not because of me.
CHLOE
"Here we are," Lex said, stopping at a posh Italian restaurant, "you do like Italian, I hope,"
"Yeah, I love it," I reply, letting Lex help me out.
As we make our way in, Lex lightly places his hand on my back and guides me in. It sends a shiver up my spine.
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," a slimy looking man says, walking up to Lex and shaking his hand like a maniac. I assume he's the manager.
I watch Lex handle him with an air of disdain, he probably gets people like this all the time.
I've never noticed it before but watching Lex right now, he's so, cool and forceful. His sense of power seems to fill the whole room and when he asks the man for the best table in the restaurant, the man immediately jumps to attention and leads the way.
Now, if only I could get people do that for me.
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music plays in the background and I could enjoy this, if I wasn't so, pissed off with Clark.
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" he asks, motioning to the waiter for the menus.
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," I say, taking a menu off the waiter.
"That could be arranged," Lex replies, with a glint of danger in his eye.
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks," I say, feeling a little hot. I decide to change the subject, "So, what were you doing there?"
Lex looks up and seems to be thinking something over, "I was doing an interview."
"But I thought you never did interviews?" I ask intrigued.
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," Lex answers coolly, looking like he's hiding something.
Blackmail I think to myself and I wonder how many secrets Lex Luthor has buried under his surface. What a story it would be, if I could uncover them.
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.
"Coffee," I reply automatically.
Lex laughs and nods at the waiter for the same.
"You are a true journalist," he says, smiling at me.
I feel my cheeks burn.
"So, what was your interview about?" I ask, thinking back to how smug Trevor looked this morning.
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," Lex says, a sadness in his voice.
"I'm sure he won't."
Lex looks at me with that older I-know-better look, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"
I pout slightly, "Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you."
"Really?" he says, raising his eyebrow.
I nod and he looks at me, reaching for my hand, "Chloe.,"
"Ring, ring." My mobile screams.
I mouth sorry at Lex and grab my phone.
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I hear him say.
My anger flares up in me.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," I reply, hoping he can sense how annoyed I am.
At the mention of Clark's name, Lex looks at me, suddenly very interested.
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," Clark says, his voice barely audible.
As soon as I hear the news, my anger disappears and I shake my head for being so, selfish.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," I reply, trying to sound sorry and sympathetic.
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.," I can sense that the situation isn't great.
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" I cut in, trying to make him feel a little better.
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up,"
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" I say lowering my voice; people were starting to look at me.
"Chloe," Lex says, squeezing my hand. But I shake it off and concentrate on what Clark has to say.
"No, not yet," Clark replies, anger in his voice.
But now the more important question looms, "Is he ok?"
"He's still unconscious,"
"I'm sorry, Clark.," I don't know what else to say.
I then hear a female voice in the background and a sigh of relief from Clark.
"Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later."
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," I say, I don't want Clark to be unhappy.
"Thanks," he replies, sounding a little happier.
"Ok, bye," I say, hanging up.
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" Lex asked, although he doesn't sound very concerned.
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," I say, not wanting to say too much.
"The storm cellar?" he says, but I don't think his reply was directed at me.
Then our waiter comes over and whispers something into Lex's ear but I can't quite hear what he's saying.
He then looks down at his watch and nods, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."
I look at him slightly confused, "No, it's fine."
"Another time?"
I nod blankly.
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," he replies, smiling at me.
Seeing him smile, makes me feel better, "Ok, thanks."
He smiles again and then without another word, walks away.
I see the Italian manager watching him and then looking back at me, fear in his eyes.
***
The next day, I wake up and pull myself to "The Daily Planet."
Clark rang me last night and told me that his father was awake and fine, apart from a few cuts and bruises. They already found the culprits, Abe Merriam and Art Nickle, the two local drunks. Apparently, they were caught trespassing on the Luthor mansion the morning after their attack on Mr. Kent.
I'm just glad that he isn't hurt but the bad news is that Clark said he'd probably stay in Smallville for the present and that he was sorry that his trip was cut short. I am too.
Anyway, I'm going to do some work but then I hear Perry yelling at me, to go and photocopy about a million memos and then pass them out.
I tell him I want to be a journalist and not a personal assistant but then he turns around and says that everyone has to start at the bottom but he appreciates my spunk.
I trudge off to the photocopy room and spend about 20 minutes pressing the copy button.
Then when I'm just about finished doing all the copying and am carrying it back to my desk, Trevor doesn't-look-where-he's-going McDonald comes along and walks right into me, sending mine and his papers flying everywhere.
"Watch it," I say loudly.
He ignores me and quickly gathers up his stuff and walks off, without even saying sorry.
"Thanks for the help!" I call after him.
I sigh and begin to collect up my papers when I spot something in front of me. I edge towards it and look down at it.
It's a photograph, Trevor must have dropped it, I think.
But as I'm about to put it into the bin, I see a familiar face. I look closer and it's definite, it's Lex Luthor and. some sort of craft.
Now, what is Lex Luthor doing with this thing? And why does Trevor have a picture of this?
LEX
People say, you shouldn't hold grudges and that revenge is a waste of time. But in my life, grudges and revenge are the only real things I can count on.
I pull up to an Italian restaurant. It's got good food but annoying people.
"Here we are. You do like Italian, I hope," I ask.
"Yeah, I love it," Chloe replies.
As we make our way in, I lightly place my hand on her back and guide her in. I guess out of habit.
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," Paulo says, walking up to me and shaking my hand like a maniac.
Paulo. He makes my skin crawl but he's done a few favours for me in the past and is as faithful as a dog.
"Your best table," I say loudly.
Paulo jumps to attention and I see Chloe watching me, looking impressed.
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music playing in the background.
But now to business I think.
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" I ask, motioning to a gormless waiter.
I watch her for a second and wonder whether if she suspects.
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," she replies cheerfully.
"That could be arranged," I reply, eyeing her carefully.
But no, Chloe's not that kind of girl.
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks. So, what were you doing there?" she says.
Aaah, changing the subject and I thought I was supposed to be asking all the questions.
"I was doing an interview," and that is the truth.
"But I thought you never did interviews?" she asks, her reporter instinct taking over, I presume.
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," I answer.
That's a laugh. Friend and Trevor in the same sentence. I can think up better words to associate with his name, words like enemy, murder.
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.
"Coffee," Chloe says quickly.
I laugh, returning to the job at hand.
"You are a true journalist," I say, smiling at her.
I can see her cheeks are burning.
"So, what was your interview about?" she asks, obviously trying to draw the focus away from her.
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," I reply and it's most probably true.
And I hope he does it too, because then I have a more legitimate reason to eliminate him apart from the blackmail, of course.
"I'm sure he won't," she says sweetly.
I marvel at her innocence, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"
"Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you," she replies.
"Really?" I say. I'd love to see you try.
She nods to reassure me and it's nice, having someone that would look out for you like that.
I reach over to grab her hand, "Chloe.,"
"Ring, ring."
She mouths sorry to me and I watch her grab her mobile.
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," she says, quite annoyed.
But I've heard Clark's name and I quickly look over at Chloe, wondering what they're talking about.
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," she says.
What's happened?
"Don't worry about it. What happened?"
Something has happened and I think it has something to do with the spaceship.
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.
I need to find out what's happened. I'll try again.
"Chloe," I say, squeezing her hand. But she shakes me off and I'm still left in the dark.
"Is he ok?"
Someone's hurt, must be Jonathan Kent, I think to myself.
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"
Yes, Jonathan Kent.
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says, her sympathy for her friend apparent.
"Ok, bye," Chloe replies and hangs up.
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" I ask, although I already know there is.
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent, beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," Chloe replies.
I feel she's holding something back.
"The storm cellar?" I say and I start to piece the picture together.
Then our waiter comes over and whispers to me, "Jameson says that the bait has been set and the prey has been lured in, ready for capture."
Ahead of schedule, I think, as I look at my watch, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."
She looks at me slightly confused before replying, "No, it's fine."
"Another time?" I say, trying to be more sociable.
She nods blankly.
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," I say, smiling.
"Ok, thanks."
I smile again and quickly make my way out.
The anticipation of seeing Trevor's imminent defeat is killing me.
***
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson says, walking in, "he's here."
"Do you have it?" I ask impatiently.
Jameson nods and hands me a manila folder. I quickly flick through it and smile.
I remember once, when I was about 10, I saw a Great White Shark attack a seal. I remember seeing it smile before it devoured the poor creature. That day, my father told me to be a true Luthor; I had to follow that shark's example. I guess today, I am.
"Show him in," I ask, my tone softening.
Trevor McDonald steps into my office, a smirk on his face.
Pompous idiot but not for long, I think.
"You called," Trevor said haughtily, falling into a chair in front of my desk.
"And you came running," I retort coolly.
Trevor's smile fades from his face, "Don't push me, Lex. I do, still have those photos of your spaceship, don't forget."
"I never forget," I say sharply.
"Then you're a regular elephant," Trevor says, laughing at his own joke.
Fools are always the last to laugh, I think.
"So Lex, was there a point to this meeting or did you just want my company?" Trevor asks, drumming his fingers on the arm rest.
I wonder what a fool looks like when he cries?
"Does the name Elaine Richards mean anything to you?" I ask, taking a photo out of the folder, twirling it in my fingers.
I watch as the blood drains from Trevor and beads of sweat start to appear on his forehead.
"Need to refresh your memory?" I say and push the photo towards him.
He picks it up slowly and gasps quietly when he sees the woman's pale face staring back at him.
Now for the kill.
"She was a little sloppy, not quite as professional as you. But that's beginners for you, she'll learn, right?" I say, staring at him.
He looks at me with hollow eyes and I see a flicker of hope still, in his eyes.
"Wrong," I say acidly.
"What have you done with her?" he asks quietly. I admire his composure.
"Nothing much," I say, my gaze still on him.
"Yet," he replies.
"That's what I like about you Trevor; you know how to play this game. Shame, you can never win," I say, lacing my fingers together.
"What do you want?" Trevor asks, his voice shaking slightly.
"I want all the evidence about my project in my hands at ten o'clock, tomorrow morning and then I don't want any more trouble out of you. Understood?"
He nods.
"Good."
"And Elaine?" he asks, looking up into my eyes.
"She'll be safe."
I hear a loud sigh of relief escape his mouth.
"Goodbye, Trevor," I say, turning around to look out over Metropolis. The city that threatens to take me whole, if I'm not careful.
"Lex," I hear Trevor's voice call.
I breathe heavily and choose to ignore him. I've finished with him.
I hear Trevor chuckle slightly, "you're so, like your father. You know that?"
I clench my fists and fight the urge to go and throttle him.
"Fine, don't answer. Just remember one thing, there's not enough room for two Luthors to both be in control at the same time."
I turn around to face him and get up slowly, walking towards him, "I don't know why you're wasting your breath here when Elaine has only so, much time before.,"
He glares at me, "what are you talking about, Luthor? You said she was safe,"
"I said, she would be safe. Tick, tock," I say, taunting him to push me further.
"You son of a bitch," he mutters under his breath.
"Make that, a son of a Luthor," I reply icily, "better be going."
He snarls and quietly skulks off.
Revenge is sweet.
"Finished?" Jameson asks, walking in.
"Yes and now onto more important matters," I say.
Jameson looks at me interested.
"We're going back to Smallville," I announce.
"But the testing and.," he stops short, when he sees the look forming on my face.
I continue, "I'm going to pay Jonathan Kent a little visit."
"Why?" Jameson enquires.
"Because I have questions to ask and he has answers to share," I say softly.