Author's Note: Some of you might have noticed that I've moved the story around a few times. That's because I couldn't decide whether this is more of a SMALLVILLE story or a CHARMED story. Now, I realize it's both, and I don't know where the heck to put it! (I could put it in the TV Crossovers section, but that would just confuse everybody.)

Luckily, there's an Author Alert here at Whenever an author's story is updated, a link to the new chapter (no matter where it is) is sent to your e-mail box. I use it all the time. It's a great way not to miss updates of my favorite Works In Progress. In the menu at the bottom left-hand corner of the page, just select ADD AUTHOR TO AUTHOR ALERT, and you're set.

Now, on to the fic.


CHAPTER TEN

"Chris!" Martha exclaimed, voice frantic. Her fingers dug into his arm. "Tell me what's wrong!"

Chris wanted to answer. He really did. Only he was hit by a wave of emotions almost as strong as before.

It wasn't a premonition exactly. He didn't see anything. But he felt plenty. It was like empathy. But, instead of getting the emotions directly from a person, he was getting them from something that belonged to them.

For a moment, Chris was tempted to drop the necklace, to make the pain stop. But he needed it if he wanted to find this frightened woman. She was nearby. He could feel it. And, if he could pull himself together, maybe he could follow her fear…


A familiar figure stood on the sidewalk, her bright red hair glowing in the sunlight.

Lex Luthor eased his foot off the gas pedal. Martha Kent wasn't alone. She was holding the arm of a tall young man with dark hair. At first, Lex thought it was Clark. Then, he realized this young man was more slender, less tanned.

And he also seemed to be in pain.

Frowning, Lex pulled over, his sports car purring as it glided up to the curb. Getting out, he hurried around the hood.

"Mrs. Kent?" he said as he approached the pair.

Startled, Martha swung around to face him. Her eyes were wide with anxiety, huge in her ghost-pale face.

"Lex!" she exclaimed. "I don't know what's wrong. He just…" Without finishing, she turned back to the young man. "Chris!"

The young man—Chris—didn't answer. Or more like couldn't. His face was frozen in a grimace of pain. The palm of his left hand was pressed to his eye, his fingers digging into his skull.

"What's happening?" Lex stepped closer, and had to step around the shopping bags someone had dropped on the pavement. "Should I call someone?"

"I don't know! I just don't…" She shook her head jerkily in an uncharacteristic display of indecisiveness. "If I knew what was wrong…"

Nodding at nothing in particular, Lex reached into his coat and pulled out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he started to dial 911.

Suddenly, Chris stood erect. His eyes opened to reveal that they were a clear, bright green. All traces of pain disappeared from his face, replaced by…determination.

"Chris?" Martha still sounded concerned. "Are you okay?"

But the young man still didn't answer. Eyes alert, he turned his head from side to side, almost as if he were looking for something. He studied every person on the street, glanced at every car, eyed every building. Finally, his gaze focused on the antique shop nearby. "There," he said, his voice soft but certain. Turning, he walked towards the store.

Martha looked confused. But, after a moment's hesitation, she gave Lex an apologetic look and trailed behind Chris.

Lex had watched the entire scene with mild curiosity. As they walked away, he ran the strange behavior through his mind again and again, unable to begin to guess what it meant. And his curiosity grew.

Putting the phone back inside his coat, he followed them inside.

The scene inside the antique shop was chaos. And, at the center of the storm, was one hysterical woman.

"My daughter!" she sobbed. "We have to find Tracy!"

Four other people—employees and customers—were trying to calm her down with little success. She walked in circles, like someone desperate to do something, but unsure what. Her eyes were so wide with panic, the whites were showing. Her arms flailed, and almost struck those around her several times. And she was clutching a doll in one desperate hand.

"Oh, my god," Martha gasped. She turned to face an elegant, middle-aged woman. "Eleanor? What's going on?"

Seeming almost relieved to be pulled away from the drama, Eleanor walked towards them. When she spotted Lex, she paused, eyes widening as—no doubt—all the stories she'd heard about his family ran through her head. As she stared, Lex—used to this kind of attention—just smiled pleasantly until she dismissed him, with a delicate sniff, and turned towards Martha.

"It's just terrible," she began. "This woman came in to pick up an order. And it took us a little longer to get things sorted out than she probably expected." Eleanor looked a little guilty about this fact. "Then, when she went back to her car, her little girl was gone."

"Oh, no. That's awful." Martha's brow crinkling sympathetically. "You called the police?"

"First thing. And we sent Patrick out to look around. But…" And she shook her head.

Lex barely heard them. He was too busy studying Chris. The young man was staring at the hysterical mother. He winced once or twice, like he had a headache. And he was holding a silver necklace, thumb rubbing back and forth across the heart-shaped pendent.

"Oh, my God!" the mother sobbed. As her hands flew up to cover her face, the doll fell, unnoticed, to the floor. "This is all my fault! Why did I leave her out there by herself?!" As she started to pace again, her 'entourage' following helplessly behind, her foot kicked the doll, knocking it several feet away.

Only Lex noticed Chris walk over to the doll, bend over to pick it up. Standing erect, he held it in both hands, closed his eyes, and bowed his head.

What is he doing? Lex thought, more than a little puzzled.

"I'm sure we'll find her," Eleanor said with forced optimism. "Once the police get here, everything will be fine." Then, with a weak smile, she turned and rejoined the others who were trying to calm the mother down.

Just then, Martha noticed Chris. The young man still stood in the same position, eyes closed, doll clutched in his hands. Only, now, there was a frown of frustration on his face.

"Chris?" She hurried to his side. "What are you doing?" She laid her hand on his shoulder...

…And Chris gasped, like someone who'd just remembered to breathe. Opening his eyes, he lifted his head. And, to Lex, he looked like a predator that had just caught scent of his prey.

"Gotcha," Chris muttered. Then, he turned abruptly and walked out of the shop.

Martha seemed surprised by his sudden departure. Then, looking bemused, she hurried after him.

A little bemused himself, Lex followed. He got outside in time to see Chris run into an alley across the street. Martha was stuck at the curb, and had to wait for a truck to pass by before she could start across.

"Wait, Mrs. Kent," Lex held up a staying hand. "What's going on?"

Martha a bit taken aback to find him standing there. "Lex. I didn't…" She stuttered to a stop, seeming to have trouble figuring out what to say. Finally, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I have to follow Chris." And, just like that, she crossed the street.

Not to be deterred, Lex was right behind her.

The trip down the alley was surreal. A part of Lex wondered why he was doing this, tagging along on an 'adventure' he knew nothing about. But, for the moment, he'd decided to let curiosity be his guide.

Finally, he and Martha reached the end of the alley, and the narrow street—there more for garbage truck access than anything else—behind the buildings. There was a wooden fence on the other side, fronted by a row of Dumpsters. When Chris stepped out from behind one of them, it was almost anticlimactic. But, then, a little girl, about 5 years old, stepped out behind him. And, in her arms, she held a dirty, squirming puppy.

"Oh, my goodness. I don't believe…" Martha began. A relieved smile lighting her face, she looked down at the little girl. "And who are you?"

"I think this is Tracy," Chris said, grinning.

The little girl gasped, and looked up at Chris with something like awe. "How did you know my name? I didn't tell ya."

Chris shrugged. "Lucky guess."

"Well, young lady," Martha scolded, "your mommy is worried sick about you. From what I heard, you were supposed to wait for her in your car."

The child's eyes widened in sudden fear. "Oh, yeah. I forgot." Chastened, she bit her lip and looked down at the ground. "I didn't mean to. Honest." But, a second later, she looked up at Chris. And there was a twinkle of calculation in her eyes. "Do you think my mom will let me keep the puppy?"

Martha Kent huffed, mouth dropping open in astonishment. But there was amusement there too.

Lex smiled at the little girl. You had to admire that kind of audacity, especially in a five year old.

Rolling his eyes, Chris put his hand on Tracy's shoulder and steered her towards the alley. When he looked up and spotted Lex, he seemed startled, like he hadn't known he was there. And had been there throughout this little adventure.

Stumbling to a stop, he eyed Lex uncertainly. "Uh, hi."

Lex simply smiled. Once again, his association with the Kents was turning out to be very…interesting.

When the police arrived, there was nothing for them to do but watch the happy reunion between mother and child. Shelly Newbern alternated between showering her little girl with kisses, and scolding her for getting out of the car to follow a stray puppy. The fact that she crossed the street to do it made her "crime" even more severe.

From a few feet away, Lex watched Tracy "take her medicine". Tracy the scolding in stride, and seemed more concerned with keeping the puppy—the cause of this afternoon's drama—from jumping out of her arms.

Martha and Eleanor—who owned the antique shop—stood nearby, chatting softly, watching the Newberns with the smiles of two mothers who had gone through something similar, and were glad to see this happy ending.

And the mysterious Chris had returned to the Kents' truck. After tossing the shopping bags that had littered the sidewalk into the cab, he'd turned to lean against the truck. At present, he was watching the people who walked by with great interest.

The police had asked Chris how he found Tracy so fast, more out of curiosity than anything else. According to Chris, he saw the little girl wander into the alley, and didn't think much of it at the time. A little later, when he found out a mother was frantically searching for her lost child, he just put two and two together.

It was a good story. Lex would've believed it, if he hadn't seen what he'd seen.

Hands in the pockets of his coat, Lex walked towards the truck.

"Well," Lex began, "looks like you're the hero of the afternoon."

Chris shrugged. "It was no big deal."

"Oh, I think Shelly Newbern would beg to differ." Lex held out his hand. "I'm Lex Luthor."

Chris pushed away from the truck. Glancing down at Lex's hand, he hesitate for a moment. Finally, when he returned the handshake, he winced a little. Almost like he expected…something to happen. When it didn't, a smile spread across his face. "Chris Halliwell."

Deciding not to be insulted—that there was more to that hesitation than a prejudice against the Luthor's—Lex smiled. "A friend of the Kents?"

Chris's eyes narrowed as he gave the matter a moment's thought. "Yeah, you can say that. I'm staying with them for a while."

"And have you gotten the hang of farm work yet?" When Chris gave him a quizzical look, Lex offered, "I stayed there not so long ago. It was…interesting."

Eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs, Chris gave his clothes a quick once over. "They made you do chores?"

"Actually, I volunteered. And, to be honest, I found I enjoyed myself."

"Doing chores?" Chris asked, voice rising in disbelief. Then, he shrugged and shook his head. "If you say so."

Lex smiled, surprised by how open this young man was. Although he wasn't all that young, was he? If Lex had to guess, he'd say Chris was just a year younger than he was, if that. But there was something so youthful about him. His voice was animated. Expressions danced across his face, changing quicksilver fast. And he was never completely still. He shrugged. He shifted from foot to foot. His hands moved as he talked.

Suddenly, Chris winced, and pressed his fingers against his left temple. And Lex was reminded of why he'd come over.

"I have to admit, I'm more than a little curious," he began.

"About what?" Chris asked absently, still massaging his temple.

"About how you really found Shelly Newbern."

Chris froze. Piercing green eyes flew to Lex's face. And, in an instant, Lex knew there was a core of steel beneath that youthful exuberance.

"I explained that," Chris finally said.

"I know what you said. But I arrived on the scene soon enough to know there's more to it than that."

Lex held the stare and waited. Waited for excuses, evasions, denials. Waited for Chris to, first, pretend he didn't know what Lex was talking about, then try to convince him there'd been nothing out of the ordinary about the way he'd found the little girl.

Instead, Chris simply shrugged again and said, "It kinda runs in the family."

Lex was almost caught off guard by the half-admission, the vague confirmation.

"Oh, man!" Chris exclaimed. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the silver necklace. "I almost forgot about this." Then, with a guarded smile and a "Nice meeting you," he left Lex and jogged over to Shelly Newbern.

Chris gave the woman the necklace. From the way she reacted, it was obvious it was hers. She even reached up to her neck, as if surprised to find she wasn't still wearing it.

As Lex watched from a distance, his mind raced. That small taste of the truth had whetted his appetite for more.

(TO BE CONTINUED)