Spoilers for "Dichotic" and "Skinwalkers". I'm working on an honest to goodness Spoiler/timeline disclaimer. Really.

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You're so smart, why don't you come up with a title?

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Next Week, Thursday, Oct. 24

Pete slammed shut his locker. And jumped. "Jeez Chloe! Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?"

"Maybe a few heart palpitations. So you're still not talking to Isis, huh?" Chloe asked as they maneuvered around their classmates.

"That's not really any of your business."

"Why not? She's my friend, too. Sorta."

"This is about family, Chloe. I don't want you making us the front page of the school paper."

Chloe stopped short. Pete regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth. She gaped at him for a moment. "Not only was that the meanest, most painful thing you've ever said to me, Pete, but it was one of the nastiest too. I can't believe you would even suggest . . ." She stalked away, plunging into the high-school crowd.

"Chloe! Wait! Chloe!"

"Pete," Clark said, touching his friend's shoulder, "why are you embarrassing yourself in front of everyone?"

With a weak motion toward the throng in front of them, Pete explained his superior gaff. "She's never gonna talk to me again."

"I know I wouldn't," Clark joked. When it obviously fell flat he added, "You know, you're really being kinda dramatic about this, Pete."

"Clark, man, you just don't understand--"

"Pete, just apologize to her. Chloe can't stay mad at you forever. A long time, but not forever," Clark reasoned.

With a shake of his head, Pete followed Chloe's wake to their class. He sat beside her despite the dangerous glare she was throwing his way. "Look, Chloe, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to offend you, it's just this thing with Isis . . ."

Chloe frowned. "That's a really thin excuse, Pete . . .but thanks for the apology. Don't think I'm not still mad at you, though."

"Never."

"So why can't you apologize to Isis?"

"Chloe . . ."

"All right, I won't push, but don't you think I'd be a lot less mad if you two would make up?"

"Not that I don't appreciate the concern, Chloe, but why are you so involved?"

"Excuse me?" Chloe asked incredulously. "Mr. I-Just-Enraged-One-of-my-Best-Friend? Ever since you two started fighting you've been shoving your foot down your mouth with both hands and Isis? Isis has become wildly unsociable."

"Really?"

"Yes really! Haven't you noticed the distinct lack of social visits coming your way? Personally I would have thought all the attention Whitney and co. are lavishing on you would have been a clue, but that's just me."

Sheepishly Pete asked, "That bad?"

Chloe snorted.

"Miss Sullivan, Mr. Ross," they looked up at their teacher, "if you don't mind we'd like to start the class. But we'll wait for you."

"Uh, you can go ahead."

"Why thank you Miss Sullivan. Whatever would we do without you?" she deadpanned.

"No idea."

*

"Hey Lana, taking a break?"

"Chloe! Hi. No, I'm actually taking the afternoon off."

Taking the seat across from Lana, Chloe mention that "It must be fun."

"You know, actually it does. A little boring, surprisingly." Lana took a sip of water from a tall glass. "Hey, I thought Mrs. Kerrick gave you detention."

"Nah, just threatened really really impressively. Water?"

Lana picked up her glass and swirled it around. "I don't know, but something about working in a coffee shop just makes drinking the stuff kinda . . .I dunno, ick. Sometimes I go home and Nell is brewing a fresh pot to have with her after-dinner whatever and the smell alone makes me want to gag."

Chloe shook her head. "I can't ever imagine being disgusted by coffee."

"I think if I stay here long enough I'm gonna go completely noseblind. No. I'll end up this old spinster with fifty cats who can only smell coffee."

Snorting, Chloe asked about Whitney.

"Can you really see us growing old together?"

"Yes!"

The girls laughed. "I don't know. Maybe. But, sheesh Chloe, we're only in high school. I think it's a little early to start outfitting you pink taffeta."

"You wouldn't dare, Lana."

"Mmm, I don't know Chloe, I am nearly famous for my love of pink and soft fuzzies."

"Taffeta is neither soft nor fuzzy."

" . . .Okay, no taffeta."

Chloe narrowed her eyes, "What about the pink? Lana? Lana? Say you wouldn't make me wear pink."

Lana singsonged a noncommittal answer.

"Lana!" Chloe protested with a laugh. "Okay, other than making me self-conscious of the hopefully not-too-near future, this is quickly becoming a total waste of time."

"And isn't it fun?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but I actually came here with a purpose. Have you seen Isis? I'm trying to get her and Pete talking."

"Is it working?"

"No-ot really. I don't think Isis feels like she has anything to apologize fo--

"And she doesn't!" Lana interjected.

"I know that and you know that . . .bu-ut if she did then maybe Pete would-- And why am I so involved?"

"Boredom?"

"Lana, I think you're right. Nothing weird has happened for almost two weeks. My Wall's feeling neglected."

"What about Ian who fissioned himself and nearly got us both killed."

"Well--"

"Or the weird wolf sitings down at the LuthorCorp site when there hasn't been a wolf in Kansas for over 50 years? Or how that girl Clark was into--"

"Okay, let's not even mention her," Chloe made a face. "Although, for a second there I could have sworn you were a little jealous."

Lana's eyebrows rose skeptically. "Really? I don't know, Chloe, but I think now you're searching."

"Hey I'm only telling you what I observed with my keen reporter senses," Chloe said with dramatically narrowed eyes as she mimed pulling down a hat.

"Are you a reporter or a gumshoe?"

"A little bit of both. Now if only I could figure out how to get our favorite two Rosses talking."

"Speaking of Rosses . . ." Lana looked pointedly over Chloe's shoulder, who turned.

"Hi guys," Pete said.

"Hi Pete." "Heya Pete."

"So what're you girls talking about?"

"You of course," Chloe said. She scooted over so Pete could sit. "Me and Lana were just wondering how you got on the Harvest Ball committee when our lovely Miss Lang here was rejected," she lied glibly.

"Sorry Lana," Pete said sympathetically, "but sometimes you got it and sometimes you don't."

With a shrug of her shoulders she replied, "I guess this time I just don't have . . .It. What is It?"

Both girls looked pointedly at Pete.

"What?"

"Well you said you have It," Chloe pressed, "so we want to know what It is."

"It's not something you can explain."

"Even when you have It?"

"Yeah."

"Seems kind of fickle to me," Lana grumped before taking a sip of her water. What about Dylan Strauss? Does he have it?"

Pete turned in his seat. "Dylan? Not yet, but he's getting there."

"Hey, didn't he, like, miss all of last year to work on some sleep disorder at a clinic somewhere?" Chloe asked.

"England, I think," Lana answered. "I have this vague memory of his Mom coming into Nell's shop a couple days before they left. I think they were staying with family."

"Must have been really expensive."

"That's probably why they stayed the whole year."

"See," Pete interjected, "a year away from Smallville will definitely give you some It."

"What about Isis?" Chloe asked.

Isis had just walked into The Talon and was at the counter ordering. She didn't see them and looked harried.

"Does Isis have It?"

Pete watched his cousin, tapping a brown-booted toe on the footrest. Everything about her was restless, from the way she clenched and unclenched the hand at her side, to her rigidly straight back, to the folded bills she was tapping against the counter. They watched her pay for her beverage and rush out the door.

"Well, Pete? What do you think?" Lana asked.

"I, uh, have stuff to do for the Harvest Ball, guys. I just stopped in to say hi. See you guys later." Pete slid out the booth and left.