Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Smallville, not Superman, not anything worth suing for. Wait a minute.. I do own something. I own Layali! Layali and all the things newly introduced in this fanfic that go along with her. Steal her and I shall have vengeance.

Author's Note: I'd just like to thank my wonderful readers and reviewers! I really value your input, and am ecstatic that you like it so far! My apologies for taking so long to get the next chapter up, but things have been very hectic for me (plus, I've recently had lasor eye surgery, so I've had to lay off the reading and computer-using) and I've had a most terrible case of writer's block. But don't worry! Things are now back on track! Be sure to review!

Layali typed swiftly at her laptop, sharp green eyes flicking over the coding critically. Every few minutes she would stop, go back several lines, and check something over. Sometimes a look of annoyance crossed her features followed by a rapid correction. Other times she simply nodded briskly and went back to where she'd left off.

She was seated at the desk in her office, which was located on the tenth floor of a twenty-floor building. This building was located in the industrial part of Smallville, only a few streets away from the ever-popular Talon. The first floor of the building was the lobby, and the second was a copy room, café, and lounge for workers on break. The third floor served as a gym. Floors four through nine were standard offices, whereas the tenth floor held slightly grander offices for the executives. The thirteenth floor was appropriately occupied by the horribly boring advertising. Floor fourteen held the meeting rooms, and above that on the fifteenth and sixteenth floors was the lab. Seventeen through nineteen were for manufacturing, and the twentieth floor was reserved for the tech crew and maintenance. The roof was a little-used helipad. Her office, unlike many of the others located throughout the building, had been made into a cozy little place. Although her desk was cluttered with papers, the rest of the place was fairly neat. The billowing white curtains and blinds on the two large windows in the room were pulled out of the way and all the way up. This provided the potted plants on the windowsills with plenty of sunlight. There was an assortment of plants, all bright, healthy green and leafy, though the only flowers were those of the lavender plants, which also gave off a light, soothing aroma. Across from Layali's desk was a comfortable looking black leather sofa. Stored under the sofa, hidden from view, would be a pillow and blanket for late nights at the office. They were rarely used, however, because the eleventh and twelfth floors had been renovated to serve as her home. Everything she needed was right here. Still, some nights it was easier to crash on the sofa.

"Ms. Meskhenet?" A voice came over the intercom, which was buried under a pile of papers.

Layali pushed aside those papers and said, "Yes, Sylvia?"

Her secretary promptly replied, "A Mr. Giovanni to see you, miss."

Layali frowned, but replied, "Send him in."

Moments later, the door opened and in marched a short, sweaty man with a thinning head of hair. He was red in the face, and had squeezed his beer gut into a suit. He dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief before shoving it into his coat pocket.

"Why George, cousin, what a pleasant surprise." Layali said, plastering a very fake smile on her face.

The man huffed a few moments longer, catching his breath after the oh-so-exerting trip up the elevator. Finally he managed to speak. "Now listen here, little lady. Don't you think for one minute that running off to this little hole of a town is going to get you out of trouble. Because it won't! Wherever you go, I'll find you and follow you."

The smile evaporated from her face as quickly as she had forced it up. She stood in a single, fluid motion and walked around her desk to stand in front of George Giovanni. She was at least a head taller than he was, so the little man was forced to crane his neck and look up at her. "What trouble? I see no trouble here, George. If you truly think that you can intimidate me, think again. It just so happens that I came here because this town has hidden treasures and business potential that a fool like you cannot even begin to fathom."

George grew redder and redder in the face as she spoke, until finally he cried, "Hidden treasures? You're going to squander your adopted parents' fortune on some wild goose chase? That money isn't even rightfully yours! It should have gone to a blood relative, not some kid off the street."

"A blood relative like you, you mean? No, my parents knew exactly what they were doing when they adopted me. They were protecting their wealth from leeches such as yourself."

"You won't get away with this! I'll get that money someday, someday soon. You – you won't get away with this!"

A cold, insolent smirk spread over Layali's features and she hissed, "Try and stop me." With that, she turned abruptly and returned to her seat behind her desk, never giving him a second glance as she said indifferently, "You're dismissed."

"You can't just-"

"I said, you're dismissed." She repeated, voice growing noticeably sharper.

Dim though he was, the survival instinct in George Giovanni took over and he fled the room, as fast as one in his condition could flee.

When she was alone again, Layali shook her head and sighed. He just wouldn't let go of this, would he? George was in no manner bright. The only way he posed any threat to her was that he had enough money to pay other people to be a threat. Not that his fortune was in any way as large as what she had inherited several years ago. Hers was far more sizable. Still, money was money. People would take any amount of it they could get from anyone, and do anything for it. George had even attempted to have her assassinated on several occasions. It was only because the assassins he'd hired were so good at covering their tracks that she'd been unable to pin anything on him. No normal human could have survived his onslaught this long. Normal. Layali laughed softly to herself at that thought. She had never been normal. At first she had hated what she was, but over time she had grown to both accept and be grateful for it. She wouldn't wish herself any other way.

Layali's gaze turned from the computer screen she'd been staring blankly at to one of the windows, which provided a lovely view of the sprawled out town of Smallville. "You are no wild goose chase, Kal-El." She whispered as she watched the sun slide down towards the Western Horizon. "I know you are here. And I will find you."

"Clark!"

As someone shouted his name over the din of the between-class crowd, Clark Kent turned and scanned the throng. He was soon able to spot Chloe weaving her way through the hallway traffic towards him.

"I've been looking all over for you! Have you heard Smallville's latest?" Chloe instantly started chatting away as she reached him.

Clark recognized the excited tone in her voice, the glimmer in her eyes, and the calculating expression on her face. All meant that she'd found an interesting topic, sunk her teeth into it, and wasn't about to let go any time soon. It also meant research, articles, wild theories, and trouble in general.

Before he had a chance to reply, Chloe continued, "We have another multi-millionaire setting root here. Name of Layali Meskhenet, the adopted child of the Meskhenet multi-mills. Rumor has it they adopted her because no one had been able to track down her parents – someone just found her and brought her in to the orphanage. See, the Meskhenets needed an heir for their kingdom but couldn't have kids. They needed someone to take over, but who wouldn't have any pesky relatives showing up, claiming her as theirs and trying to take some of the family fortune. This Layali was the ideal choice."

As Chloe stopped for breath and Clark opened his locker, he asked, "And I need to know this why exactly?"

"Just a fun fact or two.. And I've kind of been thinking of writing something for the Torch about the new arrival."

"Be careful what you write about her, Chloe. We don't know how she takes to insults – direct or indirect ones."

"Now would I do something like that?"

"In a heartbeat."

Chloe gave a little smirk of satisfaction, remembering past uproars she'd caused. Clark knew for a fact Chloe read her hate mail with relish.

"Just promise me you'll try to be discreet." He pleaded, taking a book out of his locker before shutting it again.

Chloe sighed and responded reluctantly, "Fine, I promise. But what's the fun in writing hard-hitting news if you don't strike a nerve or two?"

"Since when is someone moving to Smallville hard-hitting anyways?"

"Since we need another story for the upcoming edition of the Torch. Besides, my spider-sense tells me there's more to her tale than meets the eye."

Clark groaned inwardly. Would Chloe never learn? She seemed to have absolutely no regard for others' privacy. He would have stated another ethics lecture, but he knew it would be of no consequence. Chloe was onto another story, and nothing would stop her now.

"I'm going to start some digging at the Torch after class, during free period. Feel like lending a pair of typing fingers and reading eyes?" Chloe entreated.

"I would, but I promised Pete I'd help him study for that Biology test."

"Maybe after school then?"

"Sure, sounds fine to me." He could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid.

"Great! See you then."

With that the two parted ways, just as the bell rang.

Layali had searched all the databases and directories she could find. None listed a Kal-El. She knew it was very unlikely that the boy would have remembered his Kryptonian name, let alone kept it, but it had been worth a shot. Now she would have to go through the adoption files again and pull out a list of children adopted around the time of the Smallville meteor shower. If that revealed nothing, she would look through the orphanages. Maybe Kal-El had never been adopted. Perhaps all possible adoptive parents had sensed he was not normal and gotten frightened, moving on to the next available child. There were so many possibilities. But she had to start somewhere.

Bleary eyed from being up all night at her laptop, hunting for clues, Layali yawned and set aside the files she'd had delivered, curling up on her office couch. She would take a nap to build up her energy, and then revitalize her search. She would not give up until she had found him.