A/N: Here is the next update. It's a bit long. I hope all of you enjoy it! Thanks so much for all of the reviews thus far.

Chapter 2: One Of Us
Part 3

Lex could only stare at the screen before them; completely transfixed by the images they prematurely bypassed hours and hours ago. Actually, surprise described his feelings much better, in complete disbelief that both he and Lana missed this the first time around. If anything, Lana should have caught onto it before him, if one considered the fact that her commitment to this project was much stronger than his own. Her friendship to Lois drove her on, perhaps even past her limits, and Lex became increasingly worried for her. Of course these images would push her further, down a road she did not know how to travel alone. A road Lex did not even want to journey down.

Did she really understand how far this might take her? And even if and when she reached the end, could she handle it?

But now that he saw this scene … I am certainly intrigued. Perhaps even willing to take this case where it needs to go …

For Lana, of course …

"Why didn't we see this?" Lana asked, an echo of Lex's own thoughts.

He sighed quietly, and quickly turned back to his own computer screen, the source for the images before them. "Let me see if I can get a better look," he explained casually, and typed quickly.

At first, Lana felt frustration with her inability to see this before now. Yet that soon melted into something like exhilaration, aware of what this security video really meant. The first clue, really, to the mystery of Lois' disappearance, Lana considered, and if it took she and Lex the entire night of searching, then so be it.

In the video … Lana muses once again …

Lois comes in from the left side to talk to a gentleman, who stands by himself at the curb in front of an old car. The make of which still difficult to see clearly, however. She talks to him for a second, and walks to the other side of him, and the man's height blocks any clear vision of her, save her face.

Then Lois' facial expression clearly turns a bit pale, as if worried or frightened. So subtly, however, as to go completely unnoticed by any casual viewer of the film. But for me, looking for gold, this was the shiny sparkle in the rock, waiting to be dug up. They turn towards the camera with only their right side in view, and the man's hands are nudged at Lois' back. And with a careful, fine-tuned eye, one can see a very, very small object in his hand. However, Lois' body blocks it in the next millisecond, as if nothing was there at all.

Her facial expressions now giving away nothing.

And soon enough, Lois and the man walk towards the right and disappear completely.

The car then disappears, as well.

When at normal speed, the ten-second video sped by quickly, and with no hint of a problem. But as Lex slowed it down bit by bit, the pistol in the man's hand in that millisecond becomes slightly clearer with every look. Of course, it was like any hidden clue in a puzzle; once seen, it's very difficult not to see it.

"Can you zero in on his face?" Lana asked, still keeping a watchful eye on the film.

Lex nodded. "I think maybe I can."

Soon enough, the film stopped as both Lois and the man face towards the car. Though more of a profile of the man, it was still the best look the film gave of him. In seconds, Lex began to zoom on the stilled frame, and the face of the man became slightly clearer over the next, quiet thirty seconds. He had a small goatee, the same dark brown color as his buzz cut. He looked like he might be around thirty years old, perhaps a few years older. Outwardly, the man even looked well dressed, as that of any businessman in a suit and tie.

And maybe that was just another reason why no one seemed to have given this particular video the investigation it deserved. Not only did the man hide the pistol extremely well, he also let the camera only see it in that millisecond of time. Lost to the normal speed of the video. Furthermore, much of his face was hidden during the duration of the film. Lana, of course, was thrilled that she and Lex could even use what little they saw, considering the film only gave away a right side profile of his features. Any clue, at this point, would help them tremendously.

But still … Lana could not help but wonder why no one else caught onto this before them. The police were professionals, right? Wouldn't they have given this video, especially one with Lois in it, a thorough once over? Lana asked silently.

Yet before she could further her thinking, Lex said with confidence, "That should be good enough to send to my investigators. With this, plus the small look at the car, we may be able to track him down."

Lana sighed at that, aware now of how close they actually were. And that was only because she took action immediately after Lois was taken, giving the man who took her little time to hide. Four days of time, yes … but compared to a week, or more? Lana reasoned.

"Great. We find the man … we find Lois," Lana said with confidence, her smile difficult to contain.

They were close, indeed. The sacrifice I knew I would have to make. Her lips turned into a sweet smile as she watched the ten-second video play over and over again as Lex worked with the film to get exactly what he wanted.

And as he did so, she followed its events in her mind, to fulfill her dire need to ensure Lois was okay. Despite what the video suggested. At last they knew something now, which was a huge step up from where they were before.

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George Layton lived nearly twenty minutes outside of Metropolis in one of the outskirt suburbs of the city. Actually, one of the very suburbs the Legacy Corporation was responsible for developing. In her research, Chloe discovered that Layton used to live in a penthouse apartment in Metropolis. One of the most expensive, actually, she thought with interest. In fact, he bought his house just recently, barely a month ago, only a week after the huge car crash that claimed the lives of many of the board members of the Legacy Corporation. The very same crash Layton survived. Furthermore, the Legacy Corporation was bought out by a unanimous vote only forty-eight hours later. With the main naysayers of the buy out killed in the crash, the proposal passed easily without a hitch.

Suddenly, Lois' disappearance branched out into many different avenues. These confusing avenues, unfortunately, seemed the only pathway to where Lois might be hidden. Assuming she's still alive, Chloe thought cynically. The puzzle became more complicated by the minute, but in the end, Chloe was sure, the solution would lead them straight to her cousin.

And all of this would be over.

If Layton is willing to help us at all …

Next to her, Clark remained quiet as she drove, his eyes staring at the houses that rushed by them. It would be an enormous understatement to say Chloe has been awed by Clark's sudden change in mood in concern with their friendship. When she approached him for help in Smallville, he barely gave her a minute to explain herself. He seemed taken aback by her physical and emotional step towards him, and reacted in the only way he knew how anymore; anger. Of course, he did have every right to be angry – in his opinion, anyhow.

At the moment, however, he did act worried about her. And not just because he was Clark Kent, the compulsive hero to all who needed help. His actions felt sincere, as if he truly did forget the huge lava pit that separated them. For once, he attempted to cross it and to reach out to her, and he never gave the danger below him a meaningful glance. Only when she brought them both back to reality, pulled away, did he finally realize the vast hole he tried to cross but failed.

Honestly, Chloe felt the space between them was much too big.

And why, all of a sudden, did Clark sincerely worry about her? Why did he want to talk about it? Truly discuss their problems, and maybe even move past them? That very conundrum seemed to be the root of Chloe's problem with the entire situation. Her intentions were never to resurrect their non-existent friendship, and never did she even think that Clark would be interested in doing so. The doubts that plagued her otherwise optimistic view of this current situation warned her of what happened the last time.

As if I could forget, Chloe thought bitterly. If Clark didn't believe their relationship was worth saving back when they were supposed to be in love, then why on earth does he believe anything has changed now – especially when our love for each other has seemed to diminish?

"He lives all the way out here?" Clark asked, his head finally turning to her.

Chloe nodded, aware of how deep her cloud of thought actually was – because it took her a few seconds to realize he said anything. "Yeah, this is the address my fancy people search gave us," she insisted.

Clark shook his head. "I can't believe he used to live in one of the richest penthouses in Metropolis … and now barely has enough money to buy a small home. It doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked, as she turned down the street that was supposed to have Layton's house on it.

"Well, I mean … where did all of his money go? Did he just lose it? Is he hiding it?" Clark asked, gazing at her with intrigue. "Why wouldn't he use the money to get out of the United States completely?"

Chloe smiled. "Keep that tucked away in your treasure chest of questions we need to ask him."

In moments, a house appeared on the left – its numbers matching that of the address Chloe found on the Internet. She pulled to the curb across the street, giving them both a chance to absorb exactly what they would be walking into. The house itself was small, serene, and barely noticeable. Its light shade of blue blended into the background so much as to make the house disappear within its surroundings. An affect that only heightened Chloe's interest, aware Layton kept himself in this self-made exile on purpose.

But why? And why didn't he just leave the country, as Clark suggested?

"Okay, let's go, flyboy," she chided quietly, grabbing her purse and climbing out of her corvette. In seconds, she crossed the street with Clark right behind her, hovering over her. Chloe immediately sensed his tension, his super senses on high alert for good reason. Neither of them knew how Layton might react to their questions, or even just their presence, in general, showing up on his doorstep.

Her heels clicked loudly as they reached the cement, broken sidewalk. Chloe could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her pace quickening the closer they reached the door to the house. Anxiety suddenly coursed through her veins, knowing full well this interview might be the make or break moment of their investigation. Either they could absorb a numerous amount of information to aid in their search, or nothing at all. There was not a lot of room for a middle ground.

Clark kept up with her, and looked around the small lawn and nearby houses for anything suspicious. He needed to be the actual eyes and ears of this particular situation, especially since neither knew what to expect. It was important to keep a heads up on everything around them, and not just because they were entering unknown territory. Whatever happened to Lois was a result of her close, and unwelcome proximity to the case. Soon, very soon, both he and Chloe would find themselves with the same problem, vulnerable to the same danger.

Chloe stepped up onto the small porch and approached the screen door and pulled it open. The wooden door behind it was dark in color, stained and chipped in many different spots. With a sigh, she knocked on it and studied the dirty glass window in the shape of a diamond. Only then did she realize Clark remained a few feet behind her, and she turned to see him staring hard at the house before them.

"See anything?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Clark's eyes flipped to her and he shook his head subtly. If he did not see anything worth warning her about, then, so far, the situation should be okay. As long as she was not freaked out by the door that opened and the face that stared back at her in less than a second. If anywhere else, she probably would have jumped ten feet back into Clark's arms for protection.

But she was a reporter, one who did not let this type of thing bother her.

In the face that stared back at her, the voice cracked as if it survived a thirty-year, five pack a day smoker as the man bellowed angrily, "Who are you?"

The face of the man before her looked pale, his skin a patchy white. His eyes looked bloodshot and watery, his hands rough, only slightly overweight, and his clothes stained with anything from grease to food, and some other white substance Chloe chose not to designate in a category. Was this really the man who once held a seat on a board of one of the most important companies in Metropolis?

Behind her, Clark stepped up and smiled at the man, not missing a beat. "Clark Kent, sir. And this is Chloe Sullivan. We're from The Daily Planet."

"The Planet?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing in on Chloe.

She nodded, quickly gaining her mostly impenetrable composure during interviews. "Are you George Layton?"

The man then stiffened noticeably, his hand's grip on the edge of the door tightening slightly. At first, Chloe sensed he might slam the door in their faces, unwilling to humor them in any way. Perhaps access to this world would be much harder to earn than she originally thought. Yet, in that second of thought, the man's face began to lighten just a bit. Enough for Chloe to see something already begin to surface – a man who waited months for someone, anyone to give him the attention he deserved.

Because he had so much to say.

"I'm him," he whispered, now opening the door a bit more, a gesture of nervous welcome into his home, into his life.

Clark smiled at him. "Thank you, sir. We just need a minute of your time."

Layton nodded in return, and gazed past them to look suspiciously outside before he finally stepped away to give Clark and Chloe space to walk into his house. The living room they immediately entered was a catastrophe – papers, pizza boxes, trash in every corner of the small space. The television flickered weakly, the black and white picture full of lines that bounced up and down the screen. Clark vaguely felt they must have teleported to the 1950's, musing at the bunny ears atop the TV set and the state of its poor picture. The darkness of the room itself only added to the eerie effect.

Maybe we are in the Twilight Zone, Clark mused with a small smile.

Chloe watched as Layton went into his kitchen. "We came here to ask you about the Legacy Corporation," she stated, raising her voice slightly so he could hear her in the next room.

He came out then with a beer in his hand, his brow furrowed slightly as he stared at the blond reporter in front of him. His mind flashed through recent news, her face so familiar. And in an instant, it came to him, a small smile breaking across his chapped lips. "Chloe Sullivan? That's right, I remember you."

Chloe huffed slightly, and raised an eyebrow in question. "I do write in The Daily Planet …".

"No, no," he interrupted quickly, pointing his beer at her. "A year ago, I heard a reporter was killed. A … ah …" he began, stammering in search of a name to go with the face in his head, "I can't think of his name, but I do remember you. You two did a lot of cases together, were the talk of Metropolis for some time. I read your articles often in the Planet."

Clark's eyes grew as he gazed casually at Chloe, but she refused to look at him. Her partner killed? By who? What happened? Clark thought quickly. This must be what Chloe has been hiding from me since we started investigating this case. He knew she traveled to Europe a lot to do stories, and up until now pegged it mainly as either a request by her editor, or her need to explore her boundaries. Never did he consider it might be due to something else … had she been running away this entire time? Running away from him, from Metropolis, from the Planet … from her partner's death?

He suddenly felt his stomach turn in disgust. Though he desperately wanted to ask more, offer his help, Clark knew this was definitely not the time.

Especially when Chloe moved the conversation along quickly. "Mr. Layton, the Legacy Corporation …" she insisted lightly.

Layton nodded and moved to a green recliner, gesturing for them to sit on the couch adjacent to him. Chloe almost declined, willing to stand rather than sit on a couch that may eat her alive. But Clark grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her towards the unwanted destination, and soon they sat at eye level to Layton. Without really noticing her actions, she slid her hand close to Clark's arm, more as a nervous gesture than a tender one.

But it did not go unnoticed.

"What did you want to know about it?" he asked, his eyes once again narrowing on the two of them.

Already cagey, Chloe mused.

"You were a board member," Chloe stated.

He hesitated slightly and sipped his beer, clearly fumbling his possibilities around in his head like clothes in a dryer. Chloe knew he had every right to be unwilling to offer sensitive information, especially if he felt his own safety might be at risk. If anything, he must be reassured that whatever is discussed here, his identity will be hidden well. And, at the moment, her main interest is to find Lois, not to write a groundbreaking story of bribery and corruption in Metropolis. That was Lois' forte, territory she did not wish to cross over into right now.

Clark then added quietly, "Mr. Layton, we understand if you don't want to say anything more. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to."

Layton stalled a bit more before he finally replied softly, "Yes, I was a board member."

"For how long?" Clark asked.

Layton leaned forward slightly. "Fifteen years. Give or take."

"Why was the Legacy Corporation bought out?" Chloe asked, her eyes studying his uneasy demeanor.

"It wasn't for financial reasons," he said under his breath.

Yet Clark asked quickly in reaction, "What do you mean?"

Layton leaned back in his chair again and breathed heavily. He licked his lips before taking another long gulp of his beer. Once again, he debated on the amount of information he should give these two reporters. It took him almost an entire month to successfully hide himself from those who chased after him, even after the board voted. What would happen if he opened the can or worms? If he blabbed to two reporters, a path which would eventually lead to his story showing up in the media? Where all could see it?

But maybe it was time. Maybe he finally found two people who could carry the truth where it needed to go, and not back away.

"The Legacy Corporation was financially stable. A fifty year old company doesn't just flop over night," he informed quietly, his eyes glaring at the quiet, yet confident Clark.

Chloe pressed further, "Then what did happen?"

"Another company – Jewel Incorporated – came in and bought us out," he informed bitterly, keeping his eyes away from the two reporters.

Clark responded, catching Layton's mood, "You obviously didn't want that."

"No," he said, and then stood up and walked a bit away, back turned to them. His eyes in his beer, he added, "I tried to stop it, but …".

"But what?" Chloe asked, as she stood up to stress her need for him to continue. Every little bit would help them.

He turned then to face her. "But," he began hesitantly, "when all of those who disagreed with the buyout were killed in the car crash, there wasn't much hope left for the dying company."

"You said it was financially stable," Clark pointed out, a little conflicted with the contradictory of words from their top witness. Dying company?

Layton nodded knowingly. "Well, once Jewel threatened to buy us out, they gave us only one solution – send five hundred thousand dollars a month to an undisclosed account in Europe. Which we did. By the end of the four months… ," again he hesitated, and walked towards the flickering television. He finished his beer and crushed it hard in his strong grasp. "Legacy paid it, and it actually gave me time to assess who would vote against the buyout. Before the car crash, there were just enough votes to stop it. With the money leaving fast, and support gone in a blink of an eye … well, it essentially died out."

Chloe, still a little confused, pointed out, "Well, the vote was unanimous. So you must have voted for the buy out."

Layton made a face of disgust as he paced the other way, and then walked towards the drawn window, pulling back the drapes to look out. "I never made it to the vote," he whispered, and then let the drape fall as he turned back to them. "Someone got to those who did make it to the vote … convinced them it was in their best interest to vote the right way."

"They got to you," Clark stated, observing the sadness in the man's features.

He sighed then, but nodded. "They made sure I never got to the vote. I escaped the car crash, but not without a concussion. Kept me laid up in the hospital. Once I was let out," he began, this time pacing back to this recliner, "I noticed that I was being followed. My bank accounts were closing on me. In less than a week, I barely had an identity."

"We checked Jewel's records, but … no names available, no public financial records, no board … ," Clark began, listing the very difficulties he and Chloe faced when trying to investigate the company further.

Layton huffed then, and said with a smirk, "Well, I'm not surprised. Especially since they're only a six month old company."

"Who happened to have enough money to fund ten armies?" Chloe asked with a bit of edge in her tone.

Layton only replied, "The only name I can give you is James Peterson. One of the few executives we did talk to."

"James Peterson," Clark recited oddly, his voice letting on his familiarity with the name, "like in … James Peterson, part owner of the MGM Grande in Las Vegas?"

Layton smiled at Clark's apparent knowledge of business. "MGM, the Bellagio … even some of the casinos on the old strip."

"Las Vegas," Chloe breathed, a little taken aback by this declaration. Really? Would this man have the answers they were looking for? "What's the likelihood of someone like … say, Mr. Peterson, for example … hiding a hostage in the Neon Sign Capitol of the World?"

"Well," he said with a truly genuine smile, a reaction to her dripping sarcasm, "I would say pretty good."

That was all Chloe needed to hear.

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"Vegas?" Clark asked suspiciously as he tried to keep up with Chloe's pace through The Daily Planet hallways and then to the elevator. Frankly, the idea seemed a bit odd to him, considering Las Vegas was probably one of the flashiest cities in the entire world. "Hiding someone in Vegas – might as well put a huge sign on their chest that says, 'I'm here', 'I'm here'," Clark joked with a smile.

Chloe, a little awed by the raw cynicism that came from one of the most optimistic people in the entire world, turned to him with a smile and shot back, "Ever heard of the phrase hiding someone in plain sight?"

Clark laughed quietly as they entered the elevator, and soon stood at the back wall. As the only two in the elevator, he was a bit surprised Chloe stood so closely next to him. With a smirk, he added in fake concession, "You're right … I mean, maybe she's dressed as an Elvis impersonator."

"Clark!" she hissed with quiet shock, elbowing him in the stomach. And for a moment, Chloe felt her heart warm quickly with his presence, with his eyes, how he teased her as if they were friends, as if they were in a relationship full of intimacy just like this. Intimacy? Was that the right word here? Close? Before Chloe allowed herself to question it further, allow it to scare her, push her away, she insisted with a soft smile, "Don't forget, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Lois could be anywhere in that haven of sin, and no one would even notice her."

"I just," Clark began, a little more seriously, "Don't want you to get your hopes up. I want Lois to be in Vegas just as much as you do, but considering the source we got this precious information from …".

Chloe sighed then and turned to him, and insisted with a hand to his forearm, "Please … just humor me." A small smile then broke her otherwise serious tone when she realized she had used this very line on him already these past two days.

Clark nodded, a nervous smile edging at the corners of his lips. Maybe Lois was in Vegas, and maybe she was hidden in some deep hole created by James Peterson. And maybe they were following the delusions of a disgruntled former employee of a company.

Yet, the circumstances of the company buy out convinced him there might indeed be merit to Layton's words – only because he would have no reason to lie to them. Even if those involved in Lois' disappearance, assuming they would have any connections to Jewel at all, did not take her to Vegas, Peterson was there anyway. And he was the next point on the very map that would hopefully lead them straight to Lois' actual location; an avenue they must travel all the way through.

The elevator doors opened quickly, and soon the entire Daily Planet newsroom entered Clark's vision. Already he felt caught up in the excitement of the newspaper, the rush to make the afternoon edition like a plague that hovered through the air of the room. Not to mention Chloe, as her pace quickened through the busy people like an obstacle course – the destination her desk space to the far right.

Clark watched as she began to gather papers from her messy space and place them in her briefcase. The Daily Planet, the newsroom, standing at Chloe's desk … his curiosity in concern to her former partner rose quickly. He admittedly almost forgot about it, and shamed himself for such a possibility. "Chloe," he began, aware his questions might cancel out the tender moment in the elevator.

She turned to him, unable to hide her smile. "Clark?"

In fact, Clark thought, there was almost a genuine moment where there was no problem between us at all. In fact … my heart started beating in the same nervous pace when I used to kiss her two years ago … when I held her in my arms …

"Your partner," he said quietly, "You never told me …".

Chloe sighed then, and the once unburdened smile melted away as if it never existed. She zipped up her briefcase roughly and the mask of pain returned. All of the guilt, the sadness, and the anger came rushing back into her heart. For a moment, Chloe almost forget how deep those emotions ran in her veins. A freedom from my demons …from their haunting of my soul …

A freedom short lived.

"It's none of your business," she insisted quietly, roughly. Indeed, none of it was his business. They were always her demons, a price she paid after Clark left, after her partner was killed.

Clark folded his arms, and sighed heavily. He could already feel her backing away from him. But he did not want to give up, not this time. "What happened?" he asked.

Chloe hesitated, kept her face down, away from the eyes that bored into her, away from his look of concern, and from his reach of friendship. For so long, she dealt with this alone. And for so long, she never wanted it to be any different. "He was murdered," she whispered, already amazed she said anything at all. Many of her colleagues knew the story. After the incident, she could not count the number of concerned glances they shot her way.

Under such pressure, Chloe felt a dire need to escape. And escape she did.

"Murdered?" Clark asked, uncertainty and shock lacing his voice.

Chloe nodded casually and continued to clean her desk, and replied coolly, "I dragged him with me, on some selfish crusade … it was my fault." Her voice almost cracked by the end of that sentence, but she kept her composure flawless.

"Chloe, I doubt …", Clark began, his tone heavy with concern, his hand reaching out to clasp her own.

"Clark," she interrupted, finally lifting her head to look him straight in the eye. The emotion dripped off of her features, so thick and intoxicating. Yet she did not cry. Nor did she let him see anymore than surface deep. Because the rest was for her, and for her alone. And he was venturing into a place he knew nothing about, and would never know. The personal crisis he was miles away from when it happened, a time she needed him desperately, to be the light in her darkness. A resentment, she realized, that never really left me completely. "Drop this. Please."

Clark nodded reluctantly, aware this was too soon. Aware he asked too much of her, too much of both of them.

Chloe then turned away, grabbed her briefcase and headed towards Perry White's office. She intended on giving him an update of her progress on Lois, and furthermore booking a room and plane tickets to Vegas.

Lois was running out of time.

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End of update. More to come!
Reviews welcome:-)