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!
Dropping her scrutiny of the wreck, Talia jogged over to where Clark knelt. Following his gaze, she saw the thing that'd caught his attention and, frowning, said, "Huh! What the heck do you make of that?"
Staring intently at the inert mechanical form in front of him, Clark said, "Beats me. Looks more like a robot tarantula than anything else. Or maybe a prop from some Sci-Fi Channel show. Either way, what're the odds of this thing just happening to turn up at the site of a suspicious accident?"
Nodding slowly, Talia said, "The scratching sound I heard under the car. That'd be just about what I'd expect this thing to make scuttling around under there."
"Yeah," Clark said, "And somehow I don't doubt that once we take a better look at this thing, we'll find all the little attachments it probably needed to monkey with the brakes and the front tire."
"No bet on that one," Talia said slowly, and then, "So! Shall we?" With that, she reached down toward the drone, intending to scoop it up, but before she could, Clark's hand shot out with surprising speed and strength, catching her wrist and stopping her dead.
"Whoa!" He said quickly. "Hold up, Talia. There's no telling if this thing's dangerous or not. It could have all kinds of anti-tampering devices or it might even just be playing possum. I know you're tough, but why take chances?"
Looking down at Clark's hand on her arm, Talia said, "You might have a point there, Clark, and you definitely have one helluva grip."
Letting go hastily, Clark said, "Well, I was just worried, that's all."
Shaking her head slowly, Talia said, "You stopped my arm cold, Clark. I wasn't expecting you to grab me, so I wasn't doing anything to 'tone down' my own strength. If a normal person had done what you just did, I'd have accidentally yanked them flat onto their face, especially as unbalanced as you are on one knee right now. So go ahead; tell me that you got that strong pounding in fence posts and chucking hay bales."
Clark sighed, and said, "Look, Talia, I-" He stopped, not knowing quite what to say, and then continued with, "I know that you've already noticed a couple of things about me that you don't think are exactly normal, but- The truth is, I'm just not comfortable talking about this. I-"
"Clark," Talia said compassionately, "I understand about keeping secrets. My whole life has been one big bundle of secrets, both my parents' and my own. I know what it's like to be different from other people, to be special, and to have to keep that to yourself. I know what it's like to be just bursting to tell somebody what you can do, or to be able to show off just a little bit, but to be afraid that if you do your whole life will change and nothing will ever be the same again." She paused for a moment, considering, and then said, "But there's something I figured out along the way, Clark; you can get so wrapped up in all those secrets that they take over your life. I've never lived in the same place for more than a couple of years in a row, all because Mom and Dad were so worried about their past catching up to them. I didn't even find out what my parents used to do for a living until I started manifesting powers myself, and let me tell you, that's an earth-shattering experience for an eight-year-old. I understand why my parents did things the way they did, but I'd be lying if I said I'd quite forgiven them, even now." Then, with a sigh, she said, "Anyway, I guess the point of all that is, you've got to draw a line somewhere. There's a point where it's more destructive to you and the people you care about to keep a secret than to let it go, and you've got to figure out where that point is." Then, a bit sheepishly, she added, "Uh, rant complete, I guess."
Clark was silent for a moment, digesting this, and then he said, "I understand where you're coming from, Talia, and you probably have a point, but- Sometimes something you've held onto your whole life can be really hard to let go of. Even when you want to, even when you think it might be better to. It's like holding Pandora's Box in your hands; you know that if you open it up, all sorts of things are going to come flying out, and there's no way you can ever put them all back in again. So it seems safer in the end to just leave it closed, I guess, even if that means turning people away from you."
Talia nodded slowly, and said, "I can understand that too, Clark. But Pandora's Box is something that's either open or closed; there's no halfway. Once the catch is thrown, and people see that there's something inside, they'll keep prying until the box is either wide open or it's been slammed shut on their fingers. How many sets of fingers have you already had to bruise, Clark?"
Clark sighed, and said, "A few."
Placing a hand on Clark's arm, Talia said, "Well then, let me pull mine out of the way. Your secrets are your business, and I certainly don't have any right to pry. But it does look like we may be living under the same roof for a while, so it could get really tedious pretending to be something you're not, even at home. I can understand if it takes you a while to let your hair down, so to speak; old habits die hard. But don't be afraid to be yourself around me, Clark; if anybody can understand, I can."
"I'll… keep that in mind," Clark said slowly. Then, returning his attention to the belated task at hand, he said, "But all that really doesn't have much to do with weird metal insects, does it?"
"Not really," Talia said with a small smile. Then, frowning slightly, she said, "So what're we going to do with this thing if we don't dare touch it? Five'll get you ten that if we leave it here, it'll be gone by morning."
"Y'know," Clark said, raising an eyebrow thoughtfully, "Actually that gives me an idea."
In an unremarkable motel room on the edge of town, two familiar figures, one in black slacks, one in gray, both with jackets off, sat before a deskful of apparently ordinary electronic devices. The black-clad man's palmtop had been docked up to what appeared to be a midrange laptop, and several other implements, including a cell phone and something that looked very much like a digital video camera were plugged in as well. Both were intent on the images that played across the laptop's screen, an edited, narrated, and annotated video of the car crash and subsequent events, recorded earlier that day. Finally, satisfied that their several hours of work had resulted in a sufficiently polished product, the black-suited man shut off the display and said, "Looks decent. I'll send it up while you take care of that other piece of business."
The gray-clad man nodded once and said, "Sounds good." Then, turning toward the bathroom as he heard the toilet flush and the door open, he said, "You ready to roll?"
Stepping from the bathroom, a not-unattractive but rather unremarkable thirtyish woman in a non-descript blue pantsuit replied, "Whenever you are." Then, smiling just slightly, she added, "Don't worry; I've got your back."
Back at the accident site, Clark and Talia stood, crouched, a few yards back in the copse of trees in what they hoped was a concealed position. They'd been there for almost two hours, ever since they'd moved the truck a few hundred yards up the road and backed it in on a small dirt side-road. Swatting at the umpteenth bug of the evening, Talia said in a stage whisper, "Okay, Clark, this was fine for the first hour, but it's starting to get real old real fast. How long do you plan on waiting around to see if anybody shows?"
"As long as it takes, I guess," Clark said in a tone of mild irritation. "If nobody shows within a couple more hours, I suppose we can just try and figure a way to move that thing safely and take it with us. But if somebody does come looking for it, I want to see who it is."
"And then what?" Talia said, just a bit exasperated. "As I recall, that's the point where the plan gets a little fuzzy."
Clark shrugged and then said, "Well, like I said, I guess we'll just have to see. It kind of depends on who comes for the thing, now doesn't it?"
Shaking her head slightly, Talia said, "I suppose so. But still-"
"Shhh!" Clark exclaimed suddenly. "I just heard a car pull off the road! Somebody's coming!"
And sure enough, from the direction of the broken rail fence, they saw, dimly illuminated by the wan light of a quarter moon, the silhouette of a man approaching the clump of trees where they hid. They crouched a bit lower as he neared, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of spooking him before they were sure of his intent.
Finally, the man, clad in a non-descript gray business suit, they could see now, reached the edge of the trees and, staring at some small device he held in one hand, moved unerringly toward where the dead metallic insect lay. As he reached it, Talia unconsciously leaned forward just slightly, shifting her weight just enough to snap a small twig she'd been standing on all along. In the otherwise silent night, the small crack rang out like a gunshot and the gray-clad man's head snapped around in Talia's direction.
"Who's there!" he exclaimed, his free hand darting into his jacket.
Sighing, Talia thought, 'Way to go, Porter. Subtle as a freight train, as usual. Oh, well, might as well go with it now, I guess.'
With that thought, Talia stepped forward, deliberately leaving her cover. She strode forward in a confident, almost cocky manner, and, as the gray-clad man backed up a couple of steps warily, hand still inside his jacket, she said, "Who wants to know?"
The gray-suited man felt a thrill of mixed fear and excitement run down his spine as he recognized none other than their potentially extremely dangerous target in front of him, but the only outward sign he gave was a slight tensing of his shoulders. In an even, reasonable voice, he said, "Federal agent, kid. Aren't you out a little late?"
Cocking her head slightly and continuing to saunter in the gray-clad man's direction, Talia replied in an off-hand, almost playful tone, "Oh, I was on my way home earlier, but the darndest thing happened; I ended up in the middle of a car wreck! And then- this is even funnier, by the way- when I came back here looking around, I found this weird, robotic insect just lying here in the brush next to the accident scene! And I asked myself, Mister; what were the odds of the two things not being connected somehow? So I figured I'd just kick back and see if anybody came back to claim the thing. And guess what?" She paused then for just a moment before finishing in a dark tone, "Here you are."
The gray-suited man was silent for a moment after this, considering, apparently, and, still hiding back in the brush, Clark was doing his best to contain himself. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do, but staying hidden, playing silent back-up now that Talia had jumped the gun, definitely wasn't it. Still, he told himself, for the moment it was probably the best thing he could do. At least until he saw where things were headed.
For his part, the gray-clad man finally spoke up, a slight smile curving his lips as he said, "Well, I don't know anything about a car wreck, kid, other than that burned out hulk I saw coming over here. But that drone you're talking about- Well, it's like this. I'm with the EPA, the Environmental Protection Agency, and that thing is an experimental monitoring and sampling unit we've been field testing." He paused for a moment, letting this sink in, and then continued with, "We lost tracking on the thing this afternoon, so they sent me out to troubleshoot it. By the look of things, I'd guess that your accident had something to do with it's breakdown, not the other way around. So if you don't mind, I'm just gonna collect our little broken friend over there and head home. I'd suggest you do the same."
Talia took another step toward the gray-suited man, causing him to take two of his own backward, and said, "Hey, why so jumpy, Mister? You act like you're afraid of me or something. And the way you have that hand jammed into your coat, I'd swear you had it on a gun or something. Do EPA agents usually pack heat?" Then, taking another step forward, just a hint of menace in her tone and posture, she added, "Well do they?"
Taking one more step back, the gray-clad man said in a suddenly authoritarian tone, "Alright, kid, that's close enough! I don't know what you're on, but I don't like your attitude! You need to just stay right there while I grab my little mechanical bug, and then we can both go our separate ways."
Shaking her head slowly, Talia took one more step forward and said, "I don't think so, Mister. I think I'd like for you to stick around a while and educate me on 'EPA sample drones'. How's that one grab you?"
By way of reply, the gray-suited man said simply, "Bad move, kid." Simultaneously, he took his thumb off a certain button he'd been holding down on the small instrument in his hand ever since he'd exited his sedan. This, in turn, caused a small, electronic ping to sound from an earphone worn by the blue-clad woman who was, at that very moment, perched on the upper derrick of a windmill over a quarter of a mile distant, observing all that transpired between Talia and the grey-clad man through the sophisticated optics mounted on a very unusual-looking rifle which she held braced and ready to fire. As soon as the ping sounded, she confirmed her sight-picture, ensuring that the illuminated crosshairs were aligned center mass on Talia, and, pausing on the exhale, slowly squeezed the trigger.
From Clark's point of view, back in the wood line, it was as if a bolt from the blue suddenly struck. One moment Talia was advancing on the gray-suited man, and the next she was spinning around from the impact of something unseen that hit her like an invisible jackhammer. The world slowed down to a crawl for Clark immediately as his perceptions unconsciously shifted into super-speed, and he watched as a small gout of blood blossomed from Talia's torso in seeming slow motion. He was already moving well before she hit the ground, her one short, sharp yelp of pain and surprise stretched out into an almost sub-sonic roar in the expanded time he was living in.
Looking in the direction that whatever had taken Talia down had seemed to come from with his preternatural senses, Clark caught sight of the blue-suited woman where she crouched on the windmill's derrick off across the intervening fields, and sent a finely controlled blast of heat-vision in her direction as he moved. He had just enough time to see her begin to yank her firing hand away from the suddenly and inexplicably incandescent trigger well before he reached the gray-suited man.
Clark saw that the gray-clad man's hand was slowly creeping from inside his jacket, something flat-black and metallic in it, but he didn't bother to confirm that it was a gun. Instead, he simply shoved the gray-suited man lightly in the center of the chest with the heel of his hand, knowing that what was a light shove for him in compressed time would translate to a mule-kick for the gray-clad man. He frowned slightly as he felt something under the gray-suited man's shirt go suddenly rigid, but he didn't give it much consideration. Instead, turning his back on the gray-suited man as he ever-so-slowly went airborne under the force of his blow, Clark raced back to Talia, catching her before she hit the ground.
As Talia landed in his arms, Clark allowed his perceptions to slow back to what most people called normal, and there was the curious but by now familiar sensation of the world around him sort of rushing to catch up. Somewhere behind him, he heard the gray-clad man hit the ground with a grunt and, amazingly, roll to his feet and take off running. 'Must not have hit him as hard as I thought,' Clark mused to himself, simultaneously catching a sharp cry and the clatter of a falling rifle in the distance with his hyper-acute hearing. 'Well,' he added to himself, 'At least that worked out the way I planned.'
Then, momentarily forgetting both business-suited spooks, Clark turned his attention to Talia, who arched her back in agony as he carefully lowered her to the ground. "Ah, God!" She exclaimed. "Damn it, I'd forgotten how much this hurts!"
"Talia," Clark said anxiously, "I know it hurts, but you've got to control yourself for a minute! I can't even see how bad it is!"
"Ahh!" She exclaimed again, "Easy for you to say! You're not the one with a hole in your chest!"
Despite her words, Talia made a conscious effort to reign in her body's reaction to the molten agony that was burning it's way through her torso, and Clark was able to take a better look at her injuries, both outside and in. Peering through the wall of her chest with his x-ray gaze, he soon found the culprit; a short, thin, metallic needle, stuck about half-way through her body. "This isn't good," he said gravely, shaking his head. "It looks like that round, whatever the heck it is, is lodged in one of your lungs."
Fighting to draw a decent breath with a rapidly collapsing lung, Talia wheezed, "I'm still alive, Clark, so it should be okay. I've been hurt worse and bounced back, so I'm sure I'll survive this." Then, pausing to pull in another labored breath, she grinned just slightly and said, "Looks like this is getting to be a habit, Clark. Me getting messed up and you scraping me up afterwards."
Clark just shook his head slowly and, lifting her up once more said, "Well, I guess it's my turn next time then. But right now, let's get you home. Mom and Dad are gonna have a fit, by the way."
Talia started to give a short laugh, but stopped with a gasp as pain shot it's way through her torso. Then, turning her head suddenly toward the brush at the edge of the trees, she said, "Clark! The bug! Don't leave it here! We need to take it with us, and screw worrying about booby traps!"
Clark sighed, and then, moving over to where the flat black metallic insect lay, bent over carefully to pick it up. That proved rather awkward with an injured girl in his arms, but he managed, and, wonder of wonders, it didn't explode or sprout poisonous spines as soon as it was in his hand. That being the case, he handed it off to Talia, who cradled it protectively like a favorite plush toy, and then started to move out.
As Clark jogged toward where they'd concealed the truck, he heard a car's engine roar to life behind him, and, headlights flaring, whip around back toward town. A moment later, somewhere out near the distant windmill, he heard another car start up and he was reasonably sure that this one too turned toward Smallville, judging by the direction the sound faded off into. "Well," he said to Talia, "I guess our two bad-guys just hightailed it. Somehow I think we could've pulled that whole thing off a lot better."
"Yeah," Talia agreed weakly, "I played the 'cocky card' and got the deck handed back to me."
"Still," Clark said, "At least we got away with the bug, if not all the answers we wanted. But you're probably lucky to be alive."
"I don't know about that, Clark," Talia said a bit skeptically. "Snipers pretty much hit what they're aiming for, and if that guy-"
"Gal," Clark interjected almost automatically.
"Alright," Talia continued, her tone equal parts irritation and curiosity, "Gal, then, however you know that. Like I was saying, if that gal had wanted to take me clean out, why not go for a head shot? I don't believe for a second that she couldn't have done it, and it would've been a lot surer thing. So what the hell?"
Shaking his head slowly as they finally came up on the old Dodge truck, Clark said, "You've got me, Talia. You're probably right, she could've taken the better shot, but for some reason she didn't. Do you think they were trying to take you down without killing you?"
"Maybe," Talia said skeptically, "But that would mean that they knew I'd survive a torso hit. Believe me, it would've ripped a normal person almost in two."
"Maybe that's your answer," Clark said as he eased Talia onto the seat. "Maybe she took the easier shot because she didn't think it would matter with a weapon like that."
"I don't know," Talia said, setting the drone down carefully on the seat to her left. "Something's really, really fishy about this, Clark."
"Oh, there's no doubt about that," he said as he climbed behind the wheel. Then, firing the motor up, he added, "No doubt at all."
As he rolled back up the highway toward Smallville's city limits, staying just under the speed limit, the gray-clad man hastily fished his cell phone from his jacket and hit the speed dial. As soon as he heard the pick-up on the other end, not waiting for the other party's greeting, he said quickly, "It's me. Last play was a fumble, I repeat, a fumble. We were intercepted by the same player we were scouting earlier, and she has the ball. We managed to put her on the injured list, but I'm sure she'll be back in the game soon." He paused for a moment to let this sink in and then continued with, "More importantly, it looks like there's a new player on the field. No name to go with the number yet, but this one looks like MVP material too. Knocked me ass over tea kettle too fast to even see, and would've put me out of the game if not for the impact armor. I'll have a preliminary report just as soon as we're back in the locker room."
Jonathan and Martha's reaction was all that Clark had thought it would be once they rolled up the driveway. Both had been more than a little bit worried to begin with, as late as it was, and seeing Talia's condition as she climbed painfully out of the truck, refusing all but the most rudimentary assistance from Clark, more or less sent them over the edge. Both of them came running from the house, where they'd been waiting, peeking out the window periodically for hours.
"Oh, my God, what happened?" Martha exclaimed as she caught sight of the blood smeared over both of them. Then, taking in Talia's hunched posture and pasty complexion, she yelled, "Clark, get her in the house, now!" Then, turning to her husband, she said, "Jonathan! We need to boil some water and get some bandages ready! We can't call an ambulance, so-!"
But before she could quite finish, Talia broke in weakly with, "Mrs. Kent, it's okay. I'll be fine, I think. I just need to clean up a little and then get some rest, that's a- Ahh!" Talia winced then as the round shifted inside her chest, causing a jolt of anguish so intense her knees momentarily buckled.
Stepping forward hastily to help support her, Jonathan said gravely, "Just get some rest? I don't think that's gonna to cut it, kiddo. If I'm not mistaken, that looks a lot like a bullet hole in your chest."
Smiling just slightly, Talia said in the best flippant tone she could manage, "Ah, it's not that bad, Mr. Kent. I think it must've missed my heart by at least three or four inches, so what's there to worry about?"
Seeing both their eyes widen, Talia realized belatedly that the kind of humor she was used to might not be quite as appropriate here as it was back home. This thought was confirmed by the groan she heard from Clark, and by Jonathan's tone as he turned to Clark and said, "What happened out there, Son? And don't spare the details."
With a deep sigh as they moved slowly toward the house, Clark began with, "Well, Dad, it was like this…"
About ten minutes later, after both Talia and Clark had been cleaned up somewhat, Clark finally finished with, "And as soon as we'd snatched up that robot whatever-it-is, we hightailed it back to the truck and came back here."
Everyone was silent for several moments, digesting Clark's slightly abridged version of events, until finally Martha said, "So the two of you found this thing out there and then just decided to hang around and confront whoever came to get it? Without telling anybody what you were doing?" Then, looking to both of them, she added, "And it never occurred to either of you that that might be a bad idea?"
From where she lay on the couch, Talia sighed a bit painfully and said, "It probably should have, Mrs. Kent, but I think both Clark and I were pretty sure we could deal with who- or whatever came along. And, in our defense, I think almost any other time we'd have been right. But this time…"
"This time you underestimated the opposition and overestimated yourselves," Jonathan said matter-of-factly, looking to both Talia and Clark in turn. "Not only that," he added, "But you didn't let anybody know what you were up to in case things went wrong, which they did."
"I can't argue with that, Dad," Clark said a bit remorsefully, and then, eying Talia, he added, "But right now we have a bigger problem. That thing needs to come out of her, and the sooner the better I'm sure."
Talia started to shake her head, stopped suddenly as a lance of pain shot through her chest, and then said, "I keep telling you, Clark, I'm sure that this will get better on it's own. My body will either break the round down and dissolve it, or maybe eventually force it back out like a big splinter. Either way-"
"Either way," Clark cut in, "You'll spend extra hours or days suffering. Not only that, but who knows what that thing's made of? There's no telling what will happen if it does dissolve inside you."
"I'm pretty much immune to toxins, Clark, so-"
"And you're pretty much immune to bullets, too, from what you've said. But this thing still put a hole in you, now didn't it?"
Talia sighed and said, "Yeah, I suppose you have a point, Clark. But how exactly do you plan on getting the damn thing out? The wound's mostly closed by now, and I seriously doubt you've got anything lying around here that can cut me."
The room was silent for a moment, and a significant look passed between Clark and the elder Kents before he said, "I… think we might be able to manage something, Talia. But it probably won't be very pleasant. Still, I really think it would be better to dig that thing out if we can. It's up to you, though; it's your body, after all."
Talia gulped once as she contemplated the thought of some sort of improvised surgery, sans anesthetic, and then finally said, "Well, if we're gonna do this, I guess we might as well get it over with."
A few minutes later, all the preparations that could be made had been. Jonathan had finished boiling the water and readying the bandages that Martha had mentioned earlier, and Martha had prepared an improvised litter on the living room floor upon which Talia now lay. As Jonathan came in from the kitchen with the bandages and a basin of water, Clark came back in from the barn, carrying a short two-by-four, an incongruity which caused Talia to look a bit askance, a question in her gaze.
Answering her unspoken question, Clark said, "There's no delicate way to put this, but… Well, without anesthetic, you're gonna need something to vent on and this is better than the floor."
Talia nodded slowly and said, "Nice. I suppose you're gonna prep something for me to bite down on too?"
With a small smile, Clark took hold of the two-by-four and casually snapped a six-inch section off the end which he then held out to her with an innocent expression. Shaking her head slowly, Talia said, "Nothing super about you, huh Clark?"
"Maybe just a little," he said casually.
"Right," she said sardonically, reclining back on the pallet, and then, "Ready when you are, I guess."
With a deep sigh, Clark knelt down beside her, absently snapping what was left of the two-by-four in half and placing the two pieces on either side of her. "Go ahead and grab hold of those," he said, adding, "And you might want to bite down on the other one now too."
A bit hesitantly she did as he said, a somewhat fearful expression in her eyes as she laid her head back down afterwards. Then, as Clark gazed intently at the nearly closed wound, relocating the offending metal spike with his x-ray vision, Martha and Jonathan settled in to help as they could, she at Clark's right and he at Talia's head. Finally, reasoning that the quicker things were done with the less Talia would end up suffering, Clark let the world around him slow to a crawl, shifting his perceptions into super-speed, and then got down to business.
First, keeping the metallic needle firmly in his x-ray sight, he reached down and placed a finger gently on the edge of the wound, probing it gingerly. As he'd thought, the small, ragged pinhole had indeed almost completely sealed itself up already, and Talia's flesh felt as firm as marble under his touch. With a mental sigh, he positioned his thumbnail at the lower edge of the wound and slowly increased the pressure until finally it bit into her preternaturally tough hide. As he'd thought, however tough her body was, his was tougher, and her skin parted, however reluctantly, under his nail.
The going wasn't easy, but with some effort, he was able to make a small incision in the skin over the wound and then to gradually work his way deeper into the underlying tissues. He proceeded as carefully as possible, knowing that, however slowly he seemed to be moving to himself, to everyone else present he was just a blur of blinding motion. In fact, he doubted he'd ever have attempted what he was doing on anyone less resilient than Talia for fear of accidentally causing them more harm than good. At any rate, he slowly widened and deepened the incision he was making until, finally, he thought it was big enough for what he needed to do next.
Once he'd reached this point, Clark stopped cutting and began to force his index finger and thumb into the re-opened wound, carefully reaching for the sliver of metal inside. He felt his gorge rise as he slid his fingers deeper into the wound, and he noticed that Talia's body was finally beginning to arch upward in slow motion agony in reaction to his efforts. Putting both of these things from his mind, he continued.
Finally, he felt and saw his fingers make contact with the offending object, and, taking it firmly between thumb and forefinger, slowly began to extract it. He didn't dare pull it out too quickly, he knew; at the speed he was moving, he stood a decent chance of taking half of Talia's lung with it if he did. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Clark finally saw the small silvery needle clear the edges of the wound and, breathing a sigh of relief, let the world catch up to him once more.
The first thing that assaulted his senses as he slowed down was the tail-end of an earsplitting shriek from Talia, begun a second or so before as he'd worked. Along with this, of course, was the sound of splintering wood as she bit clean through the chunk of two-by-four in her mouth and crushed the other two sections in her hands into toothpicks. But, thanks to the incredibly short duration of his impromptu surgery, it was only a single shriek she let out, and, as he watched, her arched body abruptly collapsed back to the litter, the worst of the pain already over with.
Martha and Jonathan began to minister to her at once, washing the enlarged and freshly-bleeding wound with clean water and then dressing it with the bandages they'd prepared.
While this was going on, Clark took a few seconds to examine the needle-like projectile he'd extracted curiously. But as he did so, he slowly became aware of an irritating itching sensation wherever the metal touched his skin, and, as well, an all too familiar though strangely weakened ache in his hand. Frowning, he examined the thing more closely, and, though he couldn't be sure, thought he caught just the hint of faint green highlights on it's silvery surface.
Frowning in consternation, he turned to Jonathan and said, "Dad, I think you should take a look at this."
Catching the odd tone in Clark's voice, Jonathan looked to his son and said, "What is it? What's the matter, Clark?"
Thrusting the needle in Jonathan's direction and holding it gingerly as if it'd suddenly grown teeth and threatened to bite him, Clark said gravely, "I'm not sure, but I think this thing is laced with kryptonite."
Alright, end of chapter 6. A little action here, and a little plot advancement. And for those of you wondering, no, the little needle didn't hurt Talia because of it's kryptonite content. Not directly, at least. But some answers relating to that and a few other things will be given in chapter 7, "Conjectures", hopefully a little later this week. Stay tuned, and, again, please review. Your constructive criticism is, as always, greatly appreciated.
