New Girl in Town

By SSG Michael B. Jackson

Disclaimer: I don't own a damned thing to do with Smallville, to include any of the DC Comics characters portrayed. Hell, most of them have been around since before my parents were born, so how could I? Anyway, there's no money in this for me; I only want to have a little fun and maybe entertain a few other people as well, so enjoy and please don't sue me. I'm a poor soldier with four kids, so you wouldn't get much anyway!

Unfortunately, they were all so wrapped up in their own thoughts and feelings as they left the hospital that none of them noticed a black-suited figure watching surreptitiously from across the street. As they entered the vehicles they'd come in and headed off for the Kent farm, the dark-clad man pulled a slim cell phone from the pocket of his black overcoat and hit the speed dial. After a few seconds, he said, "It's me. The target's left the hospital with the Kent family. How do you want me to proceed?"

After listening for a few more seconds, the dark-suited man nodded once and said, "Understood." With that, absently pressing the 'End' key and slipping the phone back into his overcoat, he headed deliberately for a nondescript Ford sedan parked nearby.

The next morning started out rather rough, at least so far as Jonathan and Martha were concerned. Not being blessed with the unearthly stamina that their son was, and having never been late night partiers even in their youth, neither of them had an easy time getting started after hitting the sack at sometime after three A.M. Fortunately for them, that wasn't necessarily the case for the rest of the household.

Jonathan wasn't sure at first what had woken him, but as his senses slowly came back to life he eventually figured out that it had been his nose. "Bacon?" He said sleepily, rolling over to look at Martha beside him.

Blinking drowsily, she wrinkled her nose and said, "Smells like." Then, frowning slightly, she asked, "What time is it, anyway?"

Glancing at the bedside clock, Jonathan said with a grin, "'Bout half-past too early." Then, seeing Martha's less than amused expression, he grimaced and said, "Around seven thirty, dear." Smiling once more, he added, "Think we can get away with just rolling over and pretending we never woke up?"

Smiling also, Martha said, "Doubtful, Jonathan. Not only is there plenty to be done on this 'working farm', as you're always so fond of reminding people, but there's a whole laundry list of things to do in town today. Or had that slipped your mind?"

Sighing, he said, "No, I suppose it hadn't."

Laughing, Martha said, "Well, okay then, sleepyhead; in that case we should probably go ahead and get up, huh?"

Still smiling, he shook his head slowly and, throwing the covers aside, said, "No rest for the weary."

As they came padding toward the kitchen, Jonathan in sweatpants and t-shirt, Martha in her robe, they heard low, laughing voices along with the sounds of bacon frying and coffee brewing. Mixed in with this were a variety of appetizing odors, which, Jonathan thought, might just make getting up this morning not so rough after all.

"Hey," he said as they rounded the corner, "You two opening up a diner down here?"

The laughter stopped, and two sets of eyes turned toward them, one from the stove, where Talia was juggling her attention between bacon, hash browns and eggs, and another from the table where Clark had just finished setting four places. Smiling, he put down the last fork and said, "Morning, Dad; Mom." He paused, glancing over at Talia, and then said, "We both woke up a little early, so we figured we'd handle breakfast. Hope you don't mind."

From her place at the stove, Talia, a little self-conscious, said, "It, uh, seemed like the least I could do. Considering all that the two of you are doing for me, that is."

Smiling warmly, Martha stepped forward, putting a hand on Talia's arm and said, "Well, it certainly was considerate of the two of you. I know that I, for one, wouldn't have felt like doing all this up this morning." She paused then, looking Talia over critically, and said, "Speaking of which, how are you feeling this morning, dear? You seem to be looking much better."

Talia grinned a bit sheepishly and said, "Well, as I'm sure Clark told you, Mrs. Kent, that's one of my little talents. I tend to get over anything short of death in just a day or two. Uh, not that I've put that one to the test, of course."

There was a slightly awkward silence after this, into which Clark finally injected, "So! Let's go ahead and dish all this up; I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving."

Within a few minutes, everything was on the table and everyone was seated and eating. Pausing between bites, Talia took a quick look around the table and then said, "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"Well," Clark said after a long draught of orange juice, "I've got school. In fact, I'm gonna be late if I don't get moving."

From his side of the table, Jonathan said, "I've got plenty to keep me busy right here today; a farm doesn't run itself, after all."

Jumping at this, Talia said a bit too quickly, "Anything I can help out with, Mr. Kent?"

Frowning slightly, he said, "Actually, I think Martha was going to take you into town today, Talia. There are still a whole lot of things that need to be taken care of." And, glancing pointedly at the blue hospital scrubs she still wore, he added, "Not the least of which is getting you some clothes; I think you've gotten about as much mileage out of those as you're going to get."

Flushing, she looked down and said, "Oh. I guess you're right, Mr. Kent; I hadn't really thought about it."

Cocking her head slightly, Martha looked to Talia and said, "Talia, is something wrong? You seem… uncomfortable, somehow."

After a long pause, Talia heaved a deep sigh and said, "Mrs. Kent, I- I'm sorry. But- you have to understand. Yesterday, I was working with a government taskforce, trying to track down a bunch of terrorists before they could blow up Washington DC! I was in my element, and I was pulling my own weight. Now, all of a sudden, not only have I been blown into a totally different reality, but I'm completely dependent on the good will of a family I hardly even know!" She paused for a moment, trying to collect herself, and then said, "I just don't want to be a burden on anybody, Mrs. Kent, that's all. You've already been so kind to me, and stuck your necks out so far, I'm afraid I'll never be able to pay you back."

Her expression softening, Martha said, "Talia; if I were the one who turned up on your doorstep stark naked and completely alone in the world, what would you do?"

Without pausing for thought, Talia said, "Well, I'd help you, of course."

Martha nodded slowly, and said, "And what would you expect in return?"

Talia frowned just slightly and said, "Nothing, really. Just that you accepted my help and didn't take advantage of me, I guess."

Smiling now, Martha nodded once emphatically and said, "Exactly. And that's just what we expect of you."

Talia blushed and looked away quickly, but not before Martha caught the sheen of moisture on her eyes. Concerned, she said, "Talia, are you alright?"

Swiping at her traitorous eyes impatiently, Talia said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kent. But it just struck me that I must be both the unluckiest and luckiest girl in at least two universes right now. I was unlucky enough to have this happen to me in the first place, but then I was lucky enough to hook up with a family as cool as yours."

Once breakfast was over, the household sort of scattered to the four winds. Clark headed out for school; Jonathan wandered out toward the barn to start his daily chores, after taking a few minutes to clean up; and Martha and Talia got ready and headed into town.

The last was a bit problematic, considering Talia's wardrobe situation, but they worked it out eventually. Martha's jeans were a bit big on her, and she practically swam in one of Clark's t-shirts, but along with an old set of flip-flops, it all worked for the time being at least. Or, as Martha put it when they were done, "Better than the scrubs, anyway."

Talia had to agree with that, though she cringed when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Okay," she said matter-of-factly. "The sooner the clothes-shopping is done, the better. And I hope nobody minds if I wear some purchases out of the store."

Martha laughed at this as the two of them jumped into her little Escort and headed down the drive; it had been a long time since she'd been on a shopping trip like this one, and she was beginning to think it might actually be kind of fun.

As Clark was rummaging through his locker after first period, he felt a light touch on his arm and, turning, came face to face with a very familiar perky blonde. "Hey," Chloe said, dropping her hand.

"Hey yourself," he replied, a small grin quirking his lips. Then, his expression becoming a bit more serious, he said, "You heard anything from Lois?"

Chloe sighed, and said, "Yeah. She made it to Walter Reed, and I guess Uncle Sam is doing as well as can be expected. I still can't believe-"

"I know, Chloe," Clark said sympathetically. "It's always hard to accept when someone you care about gets hurt."

Shaking her head, she said, "He was only supposed to be in Iraq for a few days; just some kind of fact finding thing for the Pentagon. Who'd have thought that the first time he rolled out the gate, his convoy would run into a suicide bomber… Needless to say, Lois is taking this kind of hard."

Clark nodded and said, "Yeah, her and her dad had some issues. I guess this kind of has her re-thinking some things?"

"Sort of," Chloe said slowly. "I think all of us just sort of assumed that Lieutenant General Sam Lane was indestructible or something; old soldiers never die, and all that. But now…"

"Now Lois realizes that her dad isn't going to be around forever."

"I guess that's it," Chloe said in a quiet tone.

Nodding slowly, Clark said, "Finding out that your parents are only mortal isn't easy. Dad's heart attack did it for me."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them for a moment, but then, remembering what she'd intended to ask in the first place, Chloe said, "So; heard you pulled a late-nighter last night, Clark. You look pretty chipper, all things considered."

Clark shook his head slowly and said, "I guess it's true what they say about news traveling fast in a small town."

Chloe nodded and said, "At least when you're talking about Smallville's resident news-hound. So what happened?"

Clark sighed and said, "Well, first, tell me what you heard and then maybe I can fill in the gaps."

"Okay," Chloe said with a small shrug. "My… 'source' told me that you showed up last night at Smallville Med with a naked Jane Doe who can't remember anything except her own name. I also heard that you just sort of tripped over her down at the Kawatche Caves, and that she ended up going home with you and your folks." Then, batting her eyes innocently, she said, "Anything to add to that?"

In a tone of grudging respect, Clark said, "That pretty much covers it, Chloe. How did you find all that out?"

Taking a mock serious tone, she said, "Clark; you know a good reporter-"

"Never reveals her sources," he finished tiredly.

"Wow, you have been paying attention to me," she said facetiously.

With an amused grin, Clark said, "You make it hard not to most of the time, Chloe. Whether I want to or not."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Funny, Kent. Seriously, though, what happened last night? There has to be more to it than that."

Shaking his head absently, Clark said, "Actually, there isn't. Other than Sheriff Adams rolling up and just assuming that we were- well, let's just say the girl got a little distraught when she woke up, and the sheriff happened by while I was trying to calm her down. Naturally she assumed the worst."

Quirking an eyebrow, Chloe grinned and said, "No truth to that one, I take it?"

"Chloe," Clark said in a mildly scandalized tone, "She's only fourteen years old. Have I ever struck you as the pedophilic type?"

Grinning even wider, Chloe said, "No, I guess not." And then, after a slight pause, she said, "So what's up with her now? She's staying with you and your folks?"

Clark nodded slowly and said, "For now. But hopefully, either she'll remember who she is soon, or the sheriff will be able to figure it out for her. In fact, one of the things Mom's doing today is taking her down to the sheriff's office for fingerprints and photos so that they can run her on the national databases. If she's a runaway or if she's been reported missing, that should turn up something." Then, glancing pointedly at the hallway clock, Clark said, "Sorry, Chloe, gotta run; don't want to be late for second period."

"Sure, Clark," she muttered, watching him hurry away, the wheels spinning inside her head. Then, frowning, she thought, 'Okay, Clark, if there's one thing I've learned to tell about you over the years, it's when you're hiding something. And you're hiding something about this. Well, I've already cracked your big secret, thanks to poor Alicia; I'm sure it'll just be a matter of time before I crack this one too.'

Jonathan paused in his fence mending, yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily. 'No more late-nighters for me,' he thought resolutely. 'Tonight, I'm hittin' the sack at a decent hour.' Then, as he reached to pick up his hammer, Shelby began to bark up near the house. He looked up and, with a sigh, put the hammer back down as he saw a familiar silver Porsche pulling up the drive. He waited until it rolled up next to him and, as the driver exited he said neutrally, "Hello, Lex. Something I can help you with?"

Wearing the same slightly sardonic smile that he often wore, Lex Luthor looked to Jonathan and said, "Mr. Kent; as a matter of fact, there is."

Cocking his head slightly, Jonathan said, "And that would be?"

Pausing in apparent consideration for a moment, Lex said, "I understand something a little strange went on at the caves last night, Mr. Kent. Something involving Clark and an amnesiac girl. I'm just trying to shed a little light on things; I'm sure you can understand that."

Frowning, Jonathan said, "Well, it sounds like you know about as much as we do right now, Lex. But if you do find anything out, we'd all sure like to know."

Lex nodded just slightly, and said, "Actually, I was sort of hoping to talk to Clark and to the girl. Talia, wasn't it? I thought that might be a good place to start."

Shaking his head slowly, Jonathan said, "Sorry, Lex. Clark's at school, and Talia's downtown with Martha getting some clothes and tying up some loose ends. Neither one of 'em will be back before late afternoon at least."

Lex was silent for a moment, just looking at Jonathan. His gaze was mild, but unnerving somehow nevertheless. Finally, shrugging, he said with just the slightest trace of amusement, "Well, I guess I'll catch them later then; it's not like I don't know where they live, after all." He let the implications of that statement hang in the air for a moment and then, climbing back into the Porsche, he said, "You have a good day, Mr. Kent. And please; let Clark know I dropped by."

As Lex turned and roared off down the drive, Jonathan muttered to himself, "You too, Lex. And I surely will."

Downtown, Martha and Talia had just about finished their first round of errands by lunchtime. A quick stop-in at the local Wal-Mart, and, at Talia's insistence, the Goodwill as well, had taken care of her wardrobe needs for the time being. When Martha had protested at this last, telling Talia that she didn't have to skimp on anything, at least not this time around, Talia had only smiled and said, "Oh, it's not the money, Mrs. Kent. It's just that there are a couple of…accessories I'm not likely to find anywhere else." Ten minutes later, Martha had understood what she meant as she dropped an old set of green and black Army jungle boots, a pair of black leather Army work gloves, and a second-hand black military trench-coat on the counter. At Martha's questioning look, she'd just shrugged and said, "I've always kind of liked this look, Mrs. Kent; it sends out a certain message, if you know what I mean."

Martha had given a short laugh and said, "It yells, 'Keep Back', if I'm not mistaken."

Talia had nodded, smiling, and said, "Exactly. Plus, all this stuff is tough. Not only will it last a long time, but it'll take a lot of punishment if it has to." Then, seeing Martha's concerned expression, she'd added quickly, "Uh, not that I plan on putting that to the test anytime soon, or anything."

Contrary to what she'd said earlier, Talia hadn't taken the time to change out of her 'hand-me-downs' until all the purchases had been made, but once they were done she'd wasted no time. So, before they'd headed for Social Work Services and then the Social Security Office, they'd stopped off at one of Smallville's two gas stations and she'd changed in the washroom while Martha waited outside. Martha had quirked an eyebrow as she'd come back out, taking in her new ensemble of jungle boots, dark blue hip-huggers, black tank-top, and black trench, hanging open down the front. She'd also noticed the work gloves, now minus the fingers, adorning her hands and had frowned at this, saying, "How'd you manage that? Did you borrow a pair of scissors from inside?"

Shaking her head, Talia had said, "Naw, I didn't take the time for that. I just ripped 'em off."

Martha's eyebrows had gone up and she'd said, "Ripped them off? Talia, do you know how tough those gloves are?"

Looking a little chagrined and a little pleased with herself at the same time, Talia had said, "Well, I think I did mention that I was a little stronger than most girls my age." Then, under Martha's continued gaze, with a small smile she'd added, "Okay, maybe more than a little."

Martha's expression had given way to a smile, and they'd both climbed back into the Escort, going on to complete the morning's activities.

Now, round one done, they sat in the midst of the Talon's lunch crowd, talking animatedly and laughing occasionally as Clark approached their table. They'd called to arrange the meeting a few minutes ago, so his arrival came as no surprise; he simply strolled up and sat down and, eyeing Talia curiously said, "Interesting wardrobe choices there."

Talia shrugged and, smiling, said, "Hey, it's the twenty-first century; fashion is whatever you make it these days, right? Or are you on a one-man crusade to bring plaid back into style?"

With a small snort, Clark said, "Okay, touché, I guess. So I take it everything went okay this morning?"

Martha nodded and said, "So far. I'd forgotten how much paperwork is involved with matters like this, but we got the ball rolling at least." After a short pause, she continued, saying, "Everything is squared with Social Work Services, and the Social Security Office told us that if, after thirty days, there's been no positive identification, we can get her a new Social Security number with some supporting documentation from the sheriff's office. And since we know how that's going to turn out…"

"Right," Clark said slowly, and then, "You're heading over to the sheriff's office after lunch, right?"

Martha nodded once more and said, "Right. Hopefully we'll be able to make that as painless as possible."

"Well," Talia said thoughtfully, "It shouldn't be too bad. I'm sure she'll take the opportunity to try and grill me as much as possible, but really we're just going there for the fingerprints and the photos. As long as I stick to the amnesia thing, we should be fine."

Smiling, Martha said, "Hmm. Sounds almost as if you have some experience with things like this."

"Oh, you could say that, Mrs. Kent," Talia said wryly. "Not so much for myself, but… well, let's just say that, after they retired, my folks were kind of protective of their privacy. We moved around a lot, mostly so none of their old enemies could find us, but things did happen, and after a while, 'creatively reinterpreting' things for the law enforcement community kind of became second nature." She paused for a moment, and then continued with, "In fact, normally this whole fingerprint and photo thing would probably drive me apesh- ah, I mean, crazy. But, since I don't even exist here, I guess it doesn't make any difference really."

Contemplating the double mocha the waitress had just handed him thoughtfully, Clark said, "I don't know, Talia; you can never be too careful."

Frowning at his sudden change of tone, Martha said, "Is something wrong, Clark?"

After a moment's silence, Clark sighed and said, "Ah, it's just Chloe, Mom. Somehow, she got wind of what happened last night, and she tried to go fishing for some more info this morning. It's just her usual thing, that's all."

Before Martha could comment on this, Talia chimed in, asking in a mildly curious tone, "Who's Chloe?"

Clark opened his mouth to answer, but then, looking over Talia's shoulder, closed it again as he saw the object of their conversation step through the front door and make a beeline for their table. Talia turned to follow his gaze, and as the newcomer approached the table, Clark finally said, "Well, speak of the devil. Talia, this is Chloe. Not only is she one of my best friends, but she's also the managing editor of the Torch, Smallville's finest and only school newspaper."

"Hi," Chloe said simply. "Clark, Mrs. Kent." Then, holding out a hand, she turned to Talia and said, "And you must be Talia; the new magical mystery girl. I'm Chloe Sullivan."

Looking at the proffered hand thoughtfully for a moment, Talia finally reached out to take it and said, "Talia. Talia Porter. Nice to meet you, Chloe; Clark was just telling me about you."

Cocking her head slightly, Chloe said, "Really. And what did he have to say?"

Shrugging, Talia said, "Oh, just that you seemed awfully curious about me earlier today. Guess that's just a reporter thing, though, huh?"

Chloe frowned, not sure if she liked the tone Talia was taking, and said, "If trying to get at the truth is a 'reporter thing', then yeah."

Raising an eyebrow, Talia said, "The truth? Wow, and here I thought most reporters were just after whatever makes the biggest front-page splash. Is that what you're after with me, Chloe?"

Chloe was speechless for a moment, neither prepared for Talia's sudden hostility or able to formulate an immediate reply, and, before she could quite recover, Talia stood up, embarrassment written large on her face and said, "I'm sorry, I need some air." With this, she turned and strode out through the front door, leaving a very bewildered threesome behind.

Finally recovering her equilibrium, Chloe looked to Clark with a bemused expression and said, "Whoa! What the heck was that? What'd you tell her, Clark?"

Shaking his head and equally bemused, Clark said, "I don't know, Chloe. I told her that you knew what happened last night and that you asked me about her this morning, but… Look, Chloe, just hang out here, and I'll go talk to her. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding of some kind." With that, he stood up and headed for the door, Chloe slowly settling into a seat opposite Martha behind him.

Stepping outside, he found Talia a few feet off to the right, hands jammed into her coat pockets and staring at the ground in front of her sullenly. As he approached, she looked up, and he saw the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. Frowning, he said, "So what was that, Talia? What's up?"

Shaking her head disgustedly, she said, "I'm so stupid sometimes!" And then, when Clark just looked at her inquiringly, she said, "You just got done telling me that Chloe was one of your best friends, never mind the reporter part, and what did I do? I freaked out on her. Way to go, Talia; way to make friends and influence people."

Frowning, Clark said, "So what's the deal with reporters? Beyond the obvious, of course."

Talia sighed and said, "It's just- Well, the whole time I was growing up, reporters were always pretty much the enemy. Mom and Dad were both big-name supers back in the day, with a lot of media splash. Kind of like a couple of rock stars, I guess. Naturally, they took a beating from the media in those days; you know how tabloids treat celebrities. Then, after they retired, they were always afraid of some reporter getting to them, especially through me or Kat. So I guess you could say I've kind of had my mind poisoned toward reporters from an early age. I'm sorry, Clark."

Shaking his head slowly, Clark said, "Don't tell me that, tell her. Chloe can be a colossal pain from time to time, but she's also a loyal friend. Trust me when I say you'd rather have her on your side than against you." Then, frowning, he said, "Who's Kat, by the way?"

A pained look crossed Talia's face, and, in a voice full of tightly controlled emotion, she said, "Kat's- Kat was my older sister. But that really doesn't have anything to do with Chloe, now, does it?"

Seeing that Talia obviously didn't want to discuss whatever had happened to her sister, at least not at the moment, Clark said, "No, I guess not. But she's waiting back there with Mom, so…"

Talia nodded slowly, and, smiling ruefully said, "Right. And this time I'll try not to be such a little bitch."

Things went much more smoothly the second time around. Clark led Talia, looking quite contrite, back to the table where Chloe and Martha sat and, looking to Chloe sheepishly she said, "I'm, uh, sorry about what I said. I know you're curious about me and how I got here, but, truth to tell, so am I. I couldn't really tell you enough to put together much of a story right now, and I guess I'm… just kind of afraid of being labeled a freak of some kind before I even get started in this town. But I shouldn't have weirded out on you like that."

Chloe was enough of a journalist to see in a heartbeat that the girl was hiding something from her, but she could also see just as plainly that her apology was sincere, as was at least the last part of her statement; after all, who wanted to be called a freak? That being the case, she decided to back off just a little, for the time being at least. It'd taken her years to figure out Clark's secret, so she figured she could bide her time a little. And besides, if both Clark and his mother were vouching for this girl, Chloe figured that she couldn't be too bad.

Aloud, she said, "Yeah, well, I guess I can't even imagine how you must feel right now, so I'm willing to let bygones be bygones if you are."

Talia smiled, and, settling once more into her seat next to Martha said, "Cool!" And then, turning serious again added, "I'm glad I didn't burn this particular bridge, Chloe. Right now, I need to make as many friends as possible; I sure don't need any enemies."

Chloe smiled in return and said, "I don't think you have to worry about that. Tell you what; let's just pretend that the last ten minutes or so never happened and then go from there." Then, glancing at her watch, she frowned and said, "And wouldn't it be nice if those ten minutes really hadn't happened. I've gotta get back to class." Glancing at Clark, she added, "And so do you, hero. Want a lift?"

Shaking his head, Clark said, "Thanks, Chloe, but I still need a couple of minutes here. Don't worry, though; I'm sure I'll make it back in time."

An odd grin quirking her lips, Chloe stood and said, "I'm sure you will, Clark. Catch you back at school, then." Then, turning to Martha and Talia she said, "Mrs. Kent; Talia. Be seeing you around, I guess."

After they'd both nodded their farewells, Chloe turned and departed. As the door swung shut behind her, Clark turned back to Martha and Talia and said, "Well, there's one hurdle down. For now, anyway."

Martha nodded and said, "I'm sure everything will be fine Clark." But, as soon as those words had cleared her mouth, an electronic ring sounded from her purse, forestalling anything else she might have planned to say.

Frowning slightly, she fished out her cell, pressed the 'Send' key and said, "Hello?" Then, hearing the voice on the other end, "Jonathan! Is something wrong? Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Who? Lex! Well, what did he- Oh, I see. Alright, I will; he's right here in front of me. Love you too, Jonathan. Goodbye."

Looking to Clark, she said, "Lex dropped by. Apparently, he wanted to talk to you. Both of you."

Clark sighed deeply, and then said, "So much for slipping in under the radar screen. So far we've managed to catch the attention of Sheriff Adams, Chloe, and now Lex too." Then, looking to Talia he added, "That's just about everybody around here who matters, if you're wondering."

"Okay," Talia said slowly, "I'll bite; who's Lex?"

"Alexander Luthor," Clark said. "Another one of my friends, and also head of Luthor Corp and conservator of the Kawatche Caves. He and his dad have had a serious obsession going on for those caves since they were found a couple of years ago. They both think that there's some mysterious secret hidden down there, and Lex at least would probably go to great lengths to figure it out. His dad, Lionel, seems to have lost interest, but I wouldn't count on that."

Frowning, Talia said, "Well, they're not wrong, are they? There's sure as hell something down there! I don't think I'd be here now if there wasn't." Then, a hopeful note creeping into her voice, she said, "Do you think this Lex guy might be able to help me figure out a way home?"

A dark look passed between Clark and his mother then, and she said, "Oh, honey, I know you want to find a way home, but trust me; you don't want to get involved with the Luthors. Lex is Clark's friend, but…"

"But," Clark picked up, "The world Lex lives in isn't a very nice one. If he did find a way to help you, it wouldn't come without a price of some kind. And I can guarantee it would be a price you wouldn't want to pay."

A few blocks away, outside the sheriff's office, which was housed in an annex of the county courthouse, a rather nondescript gray Ford sedan pulled into the lot and then backed into a space adjacent to the building. The driver pulled forward and backed up several times, apparently wanting to position the vehicle just so in it's parking slot. Finally satisfied, the driver, a thirtyish man of medium height and build, as nondescript as his vehicle in a gray business suit and mirrored sunglasses, climbed out and, locking the door, turned to leave. Just then, one of the sheriff's deputies exited the building and, seeing the gray-suited man walking away from the building, not towards it, said, "Excuse me! Sir!"

The gray-clad man stopped. Turning slightly, he said, "Can I help you officer?"

Strolling up quickly, the deputy stopped a pace or so away and said, "This isn't a public parking lot, sir. If you don't have business inside, you need to move your vehicle."

With a slight smile, the gray-suited man said, "Oh, I'll be heading inside in a couple of minutes, officer." And, motioning toward a small shop across the street, he added, "Thought I'd check out that little antique store first. It's my wife's birthday tomorrow."

The explanation was as plausible as any, but for some reason the deputy still had that unaccountable 'hinky feeling' that so many good cops often did. Frowning, he said, "Well… what exactly are you here to do, sir?"

Turning just a bit more in the deputy's direction, the gray-clad man said, "Got some paperwork to drop off at the county assessor's office. Work related stuff."

"Really," the deputy said. "And who're you working for?"

His smile growing just a bit wider, the gray-suited man said, "Luthor Corp." Then, moving slowly so as not to alarm the deputy, he reached into his jacket, past a small, well concealed Glock .40 cal into an inner pocket. There, maneuvering expertly by touch past several ID's from a diverse range of organizations which included two federal and three local law enforcement agencies, the gray-clad man secured a particular card and pulled it out. Presenting it for the deputy's inspection, he said, "Here's my company ID."

The deputy studied this for a moment, his hinky feeling still there for some reason, and then handed it back slowly. "Alright," he said reluctantly, "I guess it's cool, then. Just don't take too long across the street there."

Still smiling coolly, the gray-suited man said, "No problem, officer. Wouldn't want to get a ticket or anything, especially not in the company car."

With that, he turned away, heading purposefully for the shop across the street. Behind him, the deputy continued to watch for a moment, then, shaking his head, turned and headed for his cruiser. That being the case, he missed seeing the gray-clad man slip a small cell phone from his jacket and hit the speed dial. Nor did he hear the gray-suited man say, "It's set. The test can proceed as soon as the target's on site."

A few blocks away, within easy view of the Talon, a certain black-clad gentleman stood, an identical cell in his hand, into which he said just one word; "Acknowledged."

With that, he hit the 'End' key and slipped the phone back into his jacket, watching as the 'target' climbed into the passenger side of Martha Kent's burgundy Escort. He made his way the few feet back to his own pale blue sedan then, sliding in behind the wheel unhurriedly. He waited for a few seconds after Martha's vehicle pulled out into traffic, and then pulled out as well, taking care to stay a discreet distance behind. Smiling a thin smile, he thought briefly how much he loved it when an operation proceeded so smoothly.

Okay, a little cliffhanger here! Who are these non-descript gentlemen, and what kind of 'test' are they planning? Well, hopefully I'll have the answer to that one out in a couple of days with Chapter 4, 'Baptismal'. Until then, hope you didn't mind my little trick for shuffling Lois off to the side; I'm just not quite ready to integrate her into this, and, in this day and age, I think that particular scenario is all too likely for anyone with a military family member. As always, please review, and hope you'll all 'tune in' next time.