A/N: Next section of Chapter 3. It's rather long. Thanks to all who have been reading this story. :-)

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Chapter 3: Part 3 -

The Mandalay Bay Resort, though known for its simplistic luxury, did not compare in the least to The Venetian Resort in Las Vegas. Actually, only Caesar's Palace dared to be compared with such extravagant beauty known in the latter, a feat not easily surmounted. Along with such beauty, however, came expense, and the Venetian was one of, if not the most, expensive resort to stay at in all of Las Vegas. Despite that statistic, Chloe could not help but dream as they walked through The Venetian – dream that one day she might spend her honeymoon here. How could any red-blooded, American young female not dream? Especially when she found it extremely difficult to remember that she and Clark were actually inside of a building, rather than walking the streets and along the storefronts of some hidden, small, charming town in Italy. Dressed in such Italian décor', and not to mention under a ceiling painted like the blue skies in Europe, Chloe easily lost herself in what it could be.

Maybe … someday … maybe not here, maybe not in Vegas … but maybe, someday …

And yet, Chloe could not help but let her thoughts run in the direction they begged to go. … maybe … maybe on the arm of Clark Kent.

Once again, she had to stop such rambling thoughts, knowing full well how things were left between them two years ago. The unforgettable and uncomfortable state of their current, on the rocks, friendship. It did not matter how much she wished it all to be different. Because, in the end, feelings were still hurt. Wounds still needed time to heal. And it was not nearly as simple as her heart was trying to make it. Why I must stay away, why I must protect both Clark and I from the heartbreak that is sure to come if we let this go too far … too far without the closure of what must be solved between us.

And though Chloe currently fumbled with the idea of being with Clark again, loving him again, and allowing herself to feel anything for him again, she also could not deny the warning signals inside of her soul. As if a reminder of what happened, how he did not trust her, and how she tasted the rich texture of a different kind of freedom. Freedom from the hurt, from the everlasting intoxication of Clark Kent. And when she did allow herself to love again after Clark left, she felt trusted, and, most importantly, felt love in return.

A combination I've never felt before. No matter how much I have loved Clark, no matter how much I have given him … the hole in our relationship makes everything else disappear. It always made everything else disappear.

Because Clark never … despite his insistence … trusted me completely.

And I wonder if he ever will.

If he even wants to still …

If he's even willing to share … to let me love him the way I want to …

To love him … and everything that comes with him …

Here I go again, Chloe thought with disdain. Why can't I let it go? Why do I continue to give Clark a chance to hurt me? Why do I continue to believe there is a chance for happiness between us?

And, actually, no matter how much Clark promised her, no matter how much he testified his love for her, and no matter how much he vowed to keep her safe, in the end … Chloe has always been hurt. Somehow, someway …

Like any good reporter, as she considered all of the events, Chloe found it difficult not to assume the obvious. Maybe, just maybe, we're not meant to be together. Maybe … all we have seen as hurt and pain are actually signs for the inevitable.

Although her heart, mind, and soul wanted to continue this difficult debate, Chloe knew this was not the time. Ironically, such excuses seemed to be at the root of her procrastination to address the problems she still has with Clark, the same that have hung on. And they would only go away when she pushed no longer. Until they finally let each other dive into the other's soul once again. When they were no longer afraid.

With a sigh, Chloe continued to walk and gaze at the intricate work of the resort, astonished with the exquisite detail in the statues, the storefronts with merchandise only for those with overflowing bank accounts, as well as the little accessories to put the Italian atmosphere of the hotel over the top. One such accessory included a small river actually inside the resort; complete with gondola rides available to those willing to pay fifteen bucks. The rowers who accompany the gondola riders sing love songs with voices so naturally beautiful and subtly powerful that the sound echoes, bounces, and travels through most of the resort. As if it traveled on the air of Italy itself.

Even more romance, Chloe mused as she gazed at two particular people, a man and woman, who kissed sweetly as they took a ride in a gondola boat. Though she did not want to think this way, already the nostalgic image of sitting in a romantic setting, such as a gondola ride with Clark's arms wrapped lovingly around her, filled Chloe's consciousness. Despite her reservations, despite her wish to move on, and despite the hurt, Clark Kent hovered and surrounded her heart like a dense fog. A fog she wished to lose herself in completely.

Or perhaps a fog I must break out of …

Beside her, Clark remained mostly quiet, mulling over his own unsuccessful search for Lois through Vegas just hours before, as they continued to walk through the long stretch of the resort. The only reason why they have taken such a tour was because of their own ignorance as to the location of a certain nightclub in the Venetian called The V Bar. Ignorance in Vegas leads to long walks through confusing casinos, and Chloe and Clark were no exception. Dressed in a long, red cocktail dress to fit the occasion, Chloe almost felt out of place among the other casual-looking sightseers. Though Clark was also dressed in nice attire, a black silk shirt laced with intricate designs, and black pants, Chloe still felt as if everyone's eyes were on her rather than the handsome man next to her.

"How far is this place?" Clark asked her in a whisper.

Chloe swallowed nervously, afraid they may have missed it, and also ashamed with her own horrible, investigative practices if she did indeed make that mistake. She did not want to draw any more attention than they already have, desperate to hide among the crowds of Vegas. And maybe she should have figured, dressed in such nice clothes, would attract some attention the more they walked through the busy city. But it was needed, because in The V Bar was their next clue. And they needed to blend in as they investigated, as if they belonged there.

Probably whoever did see them would only care for that split second and go on with their own vacation. That was the hope, anyhow.

As if they were a couple enjoying the nightlife of the Las Vegas strip, Chloe had hesitantly laced her arm through Clark's. Which, Chloe mused ironically, would be their cover. But it seemed the most logical. The story that would arise barely any suspicion.

"I think it's just up this way," Chloe promised, yet said further under her breath, "It better be."

As they walked, their pace quickened slightly, and Clark broke contact from Chloe for only a second so he could reach down and grab her hand instead. "I'm sure we'll find what we're looking for," he reassured with a comforting smile.

He knows how much this is affecting me. How much I miss Lois. How much I would give anything to have her back, safe.

With a weak smile, Chloe squeezed his hand in return. "I think we will, too." Whatever reservations, whatever nerves told her otherwise seemed to melt underneath the shining smile of Clark Kent. Everything would be okay. It had to be.

In less than a second, the entrance to The V Bar came into view. Known as one of the hotspots for nightlife in Las Vegas, Clark and Chloe were not here for such a reason. Chloe, during her research, discovered a former employee of James Peterson worked as a bartender at The V Bar. Actually not just a former employee, but also known as a top executive, as well. Fired after ten, loyal years of surface. And fired recently, Chloe thought with a smile. A perfect place to start. The perfect person to ask for information.

Honestly, Chloe did not know where this meeting might lead them. If anywhere. She knew they were taking a big leap of faith here, because this former employee might not give them anything to go on. Perhaps loyalty did go far, and perhaps he was not fired for the reason Chloe suspected; he knew too much. A totally instinctive conclusion, Chloe knew. The reporter's bread and butter, what separated the mediocre from the truly special investigators. Actually, she did pride herself on such instinct, because it was almost always right. This time, it just has to be right.

They approached the entrance, and immediately Chloe felt the scale tip to their side when they did not have to wait in a line to get in Eight thirty at night must be a slow time for them, Chloe concluded. The doorman nodded to them and opened the door, giving them access to the world beyond. She let Clark lead her through the door and into the huge space, which was already full of people to the maximum capacity.

The décor of The V Bar was simple and luxurious in shades of off-yellow, sandy brown, and subtle orange. The bar itself sat at the left, with square barstools lining its entire perimeter. Fancy benches, with the backrests in the middle so as to allow people to sit on both sides of the seat, occupied the entire length of the right wall. Tables separated each bench from the next, a statement of style as well as convenience.

Though crowded, Clark was able to slide carefully through the people to the bar ahead, where only one seat lay unoccupied. Without question, he offered the stool to his date, while they waited for the bartender to notice them. Chloe began to gaze around the room, her eyes trained to see the unusual wherever possible. Because the conditions felt so close and claustrophobic, Clark was forced to move a bit closer to her, his presence hovering over her small form. Though she would never admit this to him, especially now, such close proximity caused the heat to rise underneath her skin. Nervous … I'm never nervous around Clark. Even when we were together, I was never nervous.

"What can I get ya?" the bartender finally yelled to them over the crowd noise.

Clark smiled and leaned in next to Chloe, and asked, "Bud Light?"

"Glass of White Zin'," Chloe added quickly, and the bartender nodded his acknowledgement and moved away.

Beside her, Clark placed money on the counter, and moved close to her ear, his breath causing her to flinch with such close contact. Stop being nervous! Why are you nervous? You don't have to be. You've already said you don't want anything more from him. Right? Breaking through her thoughts, he said, loudly enough for her to hear over the crowd but no one else, "I'm going to go look around. I'll be back."

Chloe nodded, and urged him to go. She could handle this interview herself, if there was one at all. Actually, they were really taking a huge chance that the man they were looking for was working tonight at all.

When the beer and wine came, Clark nodded to the bartender and took his drink, and suddenly drifted into the crowd. Chloe slid her drink closer to her, all the while leaning in to grab the bartender's attention. "Excuse me, sir!"

Though it did not seem loud, it was enough to cause the bartender to turn towards her in interest. "Yes? You need something else?"

Chloe looked carefully from side to side, for some reason a bit suspicious of her surroundings. Maybe she was being a bit paranoid, which was probably true. And maybe she was just a bit more protective of her conversations, aware of the sensitivity of the case. Whatever the reason, Chloe took a careful second before she finally gave in and asked, her curiosity too strong to submerge within her mind, "Do you know a Mr. David Anthony?"

The bartender's eyes grew slightly as he asked, "Who wants to know?"

Chloe sighed, knowing this question might come up. She just shrugged casually, and lied, "A friend. I knew him when he worked for the MGM."

The man before her just gave her another look before he nodded, and admitted, "He's working the other side of the bar. I'll tell him you're here."

Chloe nodded, and smiled sweetly, "Thanks."

He then left and was lost to the far end of the bar. Chloe almost felt an impulse to leave; unaware of what possible danger may be awaiting her once she opened this stale can of worms. But, as any good reporter knew, it was her responsibility to expose the truth, no matter how foul or grotesque it might be. And this David Anthony might be the smoking gun she and Clark needed to find Lois. At the very least, he could give them another puzzle piece.

What Chloe feared, of course, is that he would give them nothing. A fear so strong as to cause her heart to beat just a bit faster as another man appeared from around the corner of the bar and walked towards her direction, a white towel strewn over his left shoulder. The man was slim and tall, with dark features and dark eyes. Clean-shaven and strong, yet in his eyes Chloe would dare to say he carried many burdens. Just like me, Chloe admitted. Just like me.

He stepped to her with a small smile, and asked, "Can I help you?"

Chloe nodded and took a quick sip of her wine to solve the dryness in her throat. Usually, interviews did not worry her this much. This one did. Because she knew how much depended on it. The life that waited, most likely in some danger. "You're David Anthony?"

David nodded a little hesitantly. "Yeah."

"You used to work for the MGM Grande? For a James Peterson?" Chloe asked, dabbling in the dangerous waters carefully and subtly.

David then shifted a bit nervously, something Chloe caught on to quickly. It was not difficult to notice how certain questions affected those she interviewed. Most of the time, reactions gave her an excellent window into the person. And more often than not, Chloe tended to thrive on such displays of emotion. He's nervous … why? Did he see something he should not have? Did his work end badly? Was he forced to swear not to say anything before he left? Or did he want to share it, but afraid someone would catch him?

The one question above all that stirred her mind in a tailwind was 'what does he know?'. Because now, I can see … he knows something.

"Yes," David finally admitted, though he stepped a bit away from Chloe. As if to subtly suggest that this conversation was not going to last much longer.

I don't have much time …

"Can you tell me why you left?" Chloe asked.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it's important."

David breathed deeply as he began to prepare a White Russian for a customer. "I don't see how my past job failures is any business of yours."

Chloe then reached over and grabbed the man's wrist, forcing him to look at her directly in the eye. The urgency danced in her features, something she was sure this David Anthony could see. This was no game, and she was not some snoopy reporter looking for a story, or looking for a reason to pry in a world she did not belong. Someone's life was in danger. "I want to know what you know of James Peterson."

David sighed, unable to discount this woman's need of answers he did not want to give. The same answers that would only lead her into water that was deeper than what she was already in. And though he normally would not have said anything more, something in those pleading eyes before him spoke to his heart. "I was fired," he whispered, glancing away from Chloe.

"Why?"

David quickly finished the White Russian before handing it over to the customer a little further down the bar before he returned to her. Wiping his hands on the white towel over his left shoulder, he answered, though a bit vaguely, "I discovered something I wasn't supposed to know."

Chloe fidgeted with her bar napkin and looked away from him casually. Wherever this conversation was going to go, she sensed something helpful would come from it. "What did you find?" she asked quietly.

David took his own scan of the area before he revealed, "Let's just say Peterson was doing illegal business outside of Las Vegas. I saw some of the files indicating action in Metropolis, Kansas. But that's all I can tell you." That's all he dared to say, actually.

"Wait, that's it? No offense, but even I know that's just the tip of the iceberg," Chloe remarked sarcastically, tension building in her chest. "There has to be more you can tell me."

David shrugged and looked away again. "I didn't look much further than that. And even if I did, I certainly would not tell some I hardly know." He then began to back away, and grimaced, "Trust me, you don't want to know anymore."

"But I do. I need to find out as much about Peterson as possible," Chloe urged, her eyes continuing to search for anything to hold onto in David's face.

David shook his head, stepped away, and pleaded quietly, "Please don't ask me anything else. I just … want to get as far away from this as possible."

Chloe huffed quietly and looked away briefly before she turned and stated in a soft whisper, "I have only one more question then, and if you answer it truthfully, I promise I'll leave you alone." She could already tell her insistence had driven him further away than she wished. But there was not a lot she could do about it. The insistence was natural, the urgency normal. And Lois' life depended on frankness and a quick learning curve of the situation she got herself into.

David nodded and conceded reluctantly, "Okay. But only one more. I don't want anyone to know I'm talking about this."

Chloe only had one question, which was the most important. And she prayed to God and the angels above that he would answer truthfully. Some clue, some direction, anything to lead them to Lois. Anything at all. "Does Peterson have any locations he keeps hidden? Places he likes to go that no one else knows about?"

"Why do you think I would even know about something like that?" David asked, a bit defensively.

Chloe smiled sweetly. "Because even you admitted that you saw things you shouldn't have. And you were known as one of his best known, loyal sidekicks, right?"

"A sidekick he fired," David muttered.

She shrugged sheepishly. "A sidekick who knew almost everything about him?"

David huffed this time and leaned back to pick up a pad of paper that sat next to the nearby cash register. He jotted down something quickly, folded it neatly in a square, and then slid it carefully across the bar surface to Chloe. He sighed heavily before he insisted, "This may help you. I only saw what I saw, and most of it was business. But this … well, this person saw the type of illegalities you're asking about."

Chloe reached over and took the paper carefully in her hand, squeezed it tight as if it did not exist. Maybe paranoid … but I have to be careful.

"Now, if that's it, ma'am, have a good night," he urged roughly, and in seconds he was gone from her immediate sight.

The small piece of paper might as well have been burning a hole in her hand, and Chloe could think of nothing else save rushing back to their hotel room and discovering its contents. Which instantly led her to wonder about the unknown whereabouts of Clark, who seemed absorbed in the atmosphere of the nightclub that surrounded her. Though she almost jumped off the stool to go look for him, she then immediately stopped herself before making that mistake. If anything, getting separated right now by lines and lines of tourists would be an unexpected obstacle she did not want to add to the already roaring fire of problems.

I'm sure he'll be back soon. It's better to wait here, because he knows where I am. If not … then, well, maybe I will go back to the room. He should assume I'm there eventually, right?

Suddenly, Chloe felt a tall presence emerge from the cloud of people behind her, and when she turned, ready to spit out a sarcastic remark to her always late and missing friend, a stranger appeared next to her instead. Though he stood at almost the same height as Clark, his hair was a sandy blonde, his shoulders seemed wider, and he was dressed in red rather than black. She sighed and turned away, slightly disappointed, her urgency to leave growing with each second Clark was gone. Yet, the stranger next to her did not want to leave their impromptu meeting without, at least, a hello.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he breathed next to her, the smell of alcohol so potent as to almost cause Chloe to faint. Mix it with the unbearable heat due to the closeness of so many people in this small space; I can't believe I haven't passed out yet.

With a smirk, Chloe remarked with a sly grin, "Come up with that one all by yourself?"

The man laughed awkwardly, and insisted, "Just for you, baby."

Chloe almost laughed herself. Okay, now it's time to go. "You know what, I'm sure another girl would love your attempts at flattery, but I just don't have time for the drunk and disorderly today," she said, rich with sarcasm, though her voice struggled to fight the volume of the people around them. With a snippy comment such as hers, Chloe fully expected the man to leave her alone.

But when Chloe stepped off the stool to move away from the situation entirely, the man swiftly moved in front of her and blocked her escape. He was nothing if not persistent, she thought wryly.

"I know you don't mean that. I'm sure, if you spent some time with me, you'd see how such a great guy I am," he said with a wide smile.

Chloe nodded absently, and attempted to push him subtly away from her as she reassured in a dry tone, "I'm sure you're a love machine, but I think I'll have to pass with great regret."

The man, however, would not budge.

"Why don't I take you back to my place," he yelled in her ear, his arms already trying to encircle around her waist.

Chloe's mind began to whirl a bit, aware of how serious this had suddenly become. Men have tried to flirt with her before, even Clark, and every time Chloe used her sarcasm to block their advances. I've never dealt with a man where my tactics of aversion didn't work, she thought quickly, as an intense apprehension grew quickly inside her chest.

With a little more insistence, along with a failed attempt at force, Chloe said roughly, "Just let me by and go back to the hole you crawled out of."

The man chuckled lightly, and pushed her back into the bar behind them. "Come on, baby."

Chloe's pulse rate quickened slightly, and while she debated on whether it was prudent to take up Lana's advice and hit the guy in the groin, he was suddenly pulled away from her completely. And within seconds, Clark appeared and acted as a barrier between her and the obnoxious man. Have I said how many advantages there are with having a natural born hero as a friend?

Clark looked to Chloe with concern, and then turned to the man ahead. "I think she said no," he said strongly.

Chloe, knowing full well who would win this battle, stepped up to Clark and laced her arm through his. "Come on, let's go," she whispered, urging him to follow her out of the club. The last thing they needed was a bar fight, only another way to shout to the world that Chloe Sullivan and Clark Kent were here investigating the disappearance of Lois Lane. After already surviving quite a few close calls, Chloe was even more determined to keep their presence here as secretive as possible.

Not to mention the small piece of paper still tightly held in my palm …

Clark sensed her thoughts and backed away; fully aware of the risks he would take if he chose to play out his hothead intentions. His father taught him better than that, especially when Clark could easily win almost every battle he might be in. Just because he has such power does not mean he should use it carelessly. Especially at a crucial time such as this. When lives were in danger.

There was much more to do here than fight.

Though he initially hesitated, Clark then followed Chloe's instructions and let her lead him towards the door, turning his back completely to the man as they walked away. And if the man said nothing else, both Clark and Chloe would have been happy to leave the situation just like that. Much more needed their attention, and this event was merely an unpleasant bump in their investigation. Hardly in need of a second thought.

Yet the man would not let it go.

"Fine, take her. I'm sure she's worth every penny," he sneered lazily, as he picked up his beer for a drink.

Clark turned quickly in that instant, a dose of pure anger rising quickly to the whites of his eyes. And all normal inhibitions he used to keep himself in check while in such frustrating conditions melted away completely as if they never existed. What was left burned as rage, burned as revenge, burned as something deeper, as something to prove, as a need to put this man exactly where he belonged. Raw emotions driven completely by the sudden surge of a deep devotion he thought he buried two years ago.

In a flash, he left Chloe's side, the shout of his name on her lips barely heard above the rush of air due to his super speed and the crowd noise around him. The man did not have a chance to catch on to what was going to happen; so quick and decisive were Clark's actions. And without such warning, the man experienced a rude awakening with a fist to his face, which had enough power behind it to send him sailing across the entire length of the room. Only when he landed hard on the floor, unable to catch his breath, did he realize anything had happened at all.

Only when he saw Clark standing in the middle of the room, in the exact spot he once stood, did the events of the past few seconds finally begin to make sense. How did he come so quickly? How did I miss it? Am I that drunk?

"Clark!" Chloe shouted, this time heard quite well over the silence of the room. Everyone else, so shocked with Clark's display of power, remained utterly quiet in anticipation of what might happen next. Though, the dismayed and lost look on the man's face almost ensured no retaliation.

Chloe walked to him quickly and grabbed his arm, her anger evident in her beautiful features. She's seen Clark do such things before, but never on full display for all to see. And not in the name of senseless reasons. If anything, Chloe has learned during the past few years the truly delicate nature of Clark's powers, his origins, and what all of it might mean to the wrong type of people. Ever since she discovered his true background, she did all that was possible to ensure it remained a secret. Maybe it might be considered a burden, perhaps even a hassle for those who did not care.

But for Chloe … it was always an honor. Something she could give back.

Even when they fought … even when they lived far away from each other, physically and emotionally … she still kept his origins deep inside her heart. A secret she would tell no one. A promise fulfilled by love that never left completely.

"Clark! Come on, let's go," she insisted again, the anger in her voice melting into a sting of bitterness.

Clark, still remotely taken by the weak stare of the man now injured on the floor, barely let Chloe move him. Only when she tightened her grip, when she urged him to turn, did he realize the result of his actions. Granted, he did not use the amount of force he could have. He knew it would not take much of his strength to kill. A responsibility that always lingered in everything he did. But I certainly didn't hold back much, either.

In Chloe's eyes, he saw the need for haste.

Managers, hotel personnel, police … all were certain to come, ask questions … something we can't afford right now. And not just because they might find out about me.

And with one last look back at the destruction left in his wake, along with the awe-struck faces of the fellow patrons of the club, Clark let Chloe finally lead him out the door.

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Chloe did not say one word to Clark throughout the journey back to their hotel room. Though she wanted to, she thought it best to keep her feelings at bay until they were behind closed doors. Clark must have sensed her anger, because he also remained quiet, willing to wait until they could really talk about what happened in the nightclub. They seemed to leave quick enough to keep their identity a secret for a little bit longer, and if odds were in their favor, perhaps the man Clark hit would not try to take the matter any further. Especially when Clark was only protecting me from the man's sexual harassment. It would not be in his best interest to press the issue.

Clark let his mind wander a bit as they walked the last section of the strip towards their hotel entrance. Honestly, he knew what he did in the nightclub was premature, and perhaps it jeopardized their chances of finding Lois alive. A move, as he looked back, he would probably take back in the interest of ensuring the success of their mission here. Yet, even as he promised himself this, he also questioned the merit of such words. But what about Lois? What is more important than her safety? Nothing.

But … I still wouldn't take it back. I would do it again. Because the guy deserved it …

Did he? Did I really do that?

Did I let my emotions take over?

Emotions … anger, rage … and … something else …

A something that gave him relief in recent moments of anguish and hurt with the loss of his father. Something that forced him to awake from his nightmares every night before they overtook him completely. Something that gave him comfort, a reason to keep living. A reason to breathe.

The entrance to Mandalay Bay came to view, and within seconds they were inside the building. Once past the lobby, Chloe quickened her pace to the elevators, which forced Clark to hurry his own pace to keep up. Though it was not that funny, he could not help but let a small smile cross his lips in reaction to Chloe's predictability. I remember now … whenever she's angry, she likes to do that … walk away, and quickly … not talk. How could I forget?

Considering the pace she was currently at, Clark would guess Chloe was extremely angry with him. And, really, she did have every right to be. He did make a mistake, and he admits that. A mistake he usually does not make, something he hopes Chloe will understand. Sometimes, a moment is strong enough to take over all rational thought. And sometimes a person just rubs someone else the wrong way. But, as his father always warned, Clark's reactions in such situations hold a bit more responsibility than the normal person. Anger for me means destruction in a very vast definition … or, at least … there is a strong possibility it can mean that.

Tonight … it did.

But … I was protecting her …

I just… needed to do it. I couldn't walk away.

Not from that. Not from the feeling deep inside my soul … a feeling that found new life …

The elevator took them to their floor, once again in silence. The doors opened with a quiet whoosh, and Chloe walked out into the blue colored hallways. No other sounds were made save for the soft padding of their shoes across the soft carpet below their feet. The air smelled like any normal hotel, a type of cleanliness that seemed to characterize every sport Chloe has ever stayed in on her travels throughout the world. Yet, she did not think nostalgically of such memories at the moment, her mind steamed to the brim with the flash of scenes from the nightclub.

The door to their room appeared once they rounded the corner, and Chloe could not help but notice how close Clark was behind her as they walked. If anything, he should know to stay a good distance away. He'll need it when I'm done with him. She unlocked the door with the swipe of her keycard, and suddenly they were inside the cool, air-conditioned, dark room.

Clark moved past her, through the first room of the suite, and into the next to sit on the bed, flipping the switch of the small lamp on the nightstand to enlighten the space a bit. Though he wanted to just go to bed, to forget what he did in the nightclub, to treat it as a bad dream, Chloe was not about to let him get by that easily. Of course, he would even admit further that his actions were completely uncharacteristic of him. Something he never did. Well, unless he was on red kryptonite, of course.

But this time, with no Red K … there was no explanation save that he just lost his head in a heated moment of confrontation.

And that was the story he was ready to go with.

The only story he was willing to share.

Chloe, on the other hand, would drill him until she was satisfied with his answers. And his latter reasoning would not suffice with the woman who knew him better than anyone else in his life, his own mother being the only exception.

But she would just have to accept it.

A few more seconds passed in silence as Chloe walked the length of the suite, set her red, matching purse on the sofa and then moved into the bedroom where Clark sat by himself, hands folded. No sufficient words seem available to fully express the outrage that rose deep inside her heart. They were extremely lucky that no police or hotel personnel tried to contact them thus far, a blessing in the least. But the mistake made could have been a large one, the back-breaker for their fragile investigation. A foul-up that, honestly, Chloe did not even imagine Clark might commit.

Did he even realize what he was doing? We came so close to blowing our cover. To losing everything we have done so far … so close to wiping out all that we have accomplished.

The silence, as thick as dense fog in the room, finally became unbearable for Chloe. As she walked to the window in the bedroom to look out on the busy, Las Vegas strip, she said, voice deep in the waters of bitterness, "I can't believe you did that."

Clark sighed slightly in frustration, almost unable to breathe under his friend's livid presence. She stood behind him at the bright window, his back to her, but he could still feel her anger. Felt her eyes staring at him as she turned slightly in his direction, waiting patiently for an explanation she sorely deserved. Yet he offered none. And only mumbled quietly, with a genuine insistent tone, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" she asked quickly, astonished with his unwillingness to cooperate. Granted, their relationship was not nearly as strong as two years ago, but it still deserved honesty. Especially under such unexplainable circumstances. And sorry was not good enough for Chloe. Not by far. "You severely jeopardized our investigation. You risked everything we have worked for. You risked …," yet she hesitated, emotion catching in her throat. She turned back to the window and looked out, taken by the beauty of the skyline. And in a soft whisper, she muttered, "You risked Lois' life."

Clark swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of Chloe's emotions drift to him like a tidal wave shifting with the powerful winds of regret. The guilt felt like a cement block deep in his stomach. Its burden too much to bear. Though he originally believed he carried out his actions with some sense of need – a vile attempt to defend his mistake in clouded hindsight – now such reasons felt distant and petty. Under the observing, disappointed eye of Chloe Sullivan, his reasoning seemed to melt, his need totally insignificant, despite how strong it was at one point.

I should have fought it …

Why didn't I just ignore the man?

Why … was this need so strong?

"I know," he finally stated, turning his body around slightly to look at her. She turned, their eyes matched, looked into each other.

Chloe shook her head slightly. "You know I don't care what that guy thinks of me. You didn't need to do that." She then stopped for a second, hesitated as if to catch her running thoughts, before she continued, "It just doesn't make sense. Clark, I know you. You're a trained investigator. I taught you. You've worked for The Ledger. I know it's not exactly The Daily Planet, but I doubt it would teach such chaotic investigative practices. Even they have some sense of responsibility."

Clark nodded in agreement, and said once again, "I know."

"And yet you break the number one rule of investigation; don't be stupid!" Chloe continued, her voice rising just a bit, unable to keep her anger hidden under the umbrella of understanding. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to find out why he risked everything we've done. I'm trying to assume he had some bizarre plan behind his madness. I'm trying …

"I know."

Chloe huffed slightly, his answers hardly what she expected. Or what she wanted. "Well, I think you need to come up with something a bit more convincing than that. This case is extremely sensitive. And I know you know that."

Clark looked away from her, sure his eyes might give him away. "You're right, I do. But I made a stupid mistake. I got caught up in the moment. Just like you said."

Yet his weak voice hardly seemed credible, especially for a woman desperately searching for anything to hold on to. This version of the truth was just not strong enough to douse her anger. Nor her unsatisfied curiosity. "You're going to need something better than that. I know there's more going on here. Even I can tell when you're lying."

"Can you just let it go? Please?" he asked, his voice carrying an undertone of irritation.

Chloe crossed her arms and insisted, "No, I won't. I want to know why you did this."

At that, finally Clark began to feel his own anger grow. Maybe he did not want to tell her, and maybe right now was not the right time to discuss this. Maybe he would rather live through his mistake with honor, rather than rehashing it over and over again. Maybe he wanted to forget it, as well as the reason he did it. The latter almost sounded tempting, especially considering Chloe's harsh treatment of him at the moment. Yet, despite that, he also felt the need to tell her intensify in that section of his heart that has always been reserved only for her. The same section of his heart that his need during the fight could be found … of his reasons … of the something he thought he buried for good two years ago …

The home of what has never left him …

"You want to know why?" he asked, a challenge set in his tone.

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me

Chloe hardly backed away, and almost shouted, "Yes, I want to know why!"

He then stood finally from his seat on the bed, and asked one more time, "You want to know why?"

A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark

Chloe, a little confused, reassured once again with the same bitterness, "Yes! Tell me."

"Okay," Clark agreed, an intense seriousness replacing his anger.

Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me

Satisfy me baby

Without notice or warning, he moved swiftly around the bed towards Chloe and pushed her up against the wall behind them, force laced with passion and tenderness. Her mind began to whirl a bit, a complete overload of senses and feeling. And before she could catch her breath, before she could say one word, lost to the amazing sensation of his body pressed fast against hers, he kissed her softly.

Though the moment began with intensity, the kiss started slowly, his lips testing, hesitantly tracing the soft texture of Chloe's lips. As if asking for permission, as if to reacquaint with forgotten territory. At first, her heart at war with conflicting emotions, she almost broke away, unwilling to take this any further. I can't lead him on. I can't let him feel this way for me again. Especially when I have no idea what I'm feeling. I just … I can't allow this to continue when our emotions are so screwed up. When neither of us have any idea of what we want.

Chloe's thoughts, however, did not outweigh her need.

Baby close your eyes and listen to the music
Drifting through a summer breeze

Could not outweigh what she really craved for. What she has thought of every moment she's been separated from Clark. What she needed.

And within moments, she began to respond to him.

It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it
Come along with me and put your mind at ease

Chloe felt his lips melt into hers, felt their bodies mold together as one. She almost forgot how well they used to fit each other. The only puzzle piece in her life that could fill the hole in heart completely. Her anger just before was now gone. And the reason to stop this soon disappeared, replaced with the true desires of her soul; lust, desire, need, and love. Clark. The man I almost let go. The man … the love of my life.

How did she ever think she could live without him?

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me

The kiss then turned from a gentle insistence to a desperate, intense, hasty need. Clark's hands moved to her waist, pushed her tighter against the wall, pushed his body as close to hers as possible as his lips continued to dance over hers. Chloe could feel a flush of red rise to her cheeks as the heat between them rose quickly, especially when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her heart began to race slightly as he deepened the kiss, as she lost control with each passing second.

A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark

And when Clark's sweet kisses quickly moved from Chloe's lips, traced her cheek, and traveled down to the soft skin of her neck, everything else in the world melted away completely.

Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me

Now, finally, in this minute moment of time …

Only the raw desire they tried to suppress for two years remained.

Satisfy me baby

And they had each other again.

Yet something suddenly pulled at the edge of her heart …

(fade out song …)

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Reviews welcome. More to come.