- - - - -

"Clark, over here!" Clark waved at Lana across the crowded coffee house, and made his way past circular tables to where she stood.

"Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Nonsense, you're three minutes early," she beamed. He could tell she was about to hug him, so he scooted quickly into a chair and grabbed a menu. Taken aback, Lana followed suit. "Everything okay?"

He nodded curtly. "Uh, yeah. Just- a little tired."

"Yeah, being up all night with a kidnapper can do that." Her face became suddenly very somber. "Clark…what happened? You said you'd fill me in, so…"

He put the menu down. "Do you remember Curtis Jaye?"

"Yeah," she said, blinking in surprise. "I mean- well, he was Whitney's cousin."

Clark's eyes widened. "Really?" Chloe's research hadn't picked up that factoid.

"Mhm, he used to come over with Whitney sometimes, when we studied together. He was a real science whiz, but he stunk at English." She shrugged. "We sort of helped each other out. But after his dad left, he got caught up in all his experiments and whatnot. We didn't see him much after that- well, I assume Whitney did, but I didn't. His dad's abandonment really hit him hard."

"I'm not surprised," Clark said vaguely, and Lana nodded her agreement. "Was that when he went sort of…"

"AWOL?" He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Whitney said he became really reclusive, and the only time anyone saw him was when he'd show up for classes. He was really serious about getting his degree in chemistry."

Clark blinked. "So- he wanted to graduate?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because it looks like he was removed from the line-up the day before graduation. Why would he bail out just before the big day?"

"I don't know…" they were quiet a moment, then Lana looked up at him again. "But, Clark- why are we discussing Curtis?"

Clark sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Because…he's the guy who kidnapped me." After that statement, Lana wanted to know everything. Clark filled her in on all points but the Kryptonite, and by the time he was finished, she seemed satisfied that he'd told her everything.

"Clark, we need to call the police. If Curtis is just- up and abducting people for no reason, he's not only dangerous, he could be insane."

"Well, problem number one is I have no idea where to find him. Chloe and I looked for an address, but he doesn't have a current address. My guess is he's found somewhere out of the way to work on his science experiments. He's definitely in Smallville, though, because it didn't take us long to get to Chandler's Field."

"There's got to be a way to track him down."

"Chloe's going to check with the DMV. I didn't get the license plate of his car, but I know it was a blue Honda Pilot."

"Pretty sporty for a high school dropout."

"Probably got the money from his mom. Mrs. Jaye died a little over a year ago."

Lana looked sadly down at the tabletop. "No wonder he's losing it…I mean, he was practically catatonic after his father left him, and now…I wish I had kept up with him now. He didn't even make it to Whitney's funeral."

Clark wanted badly to squeeze her hand. His mind was working furiously, trying to think of something comforting he could do without touching her. "Hey…" he smiled when she looked at him. "Remember what you're always telling me? It's nowhere near your fault, Lana. Seriously."

"Thanks, Clark." She smiled back at him and then thankfully segued. "So. Coffee?" They both ordered, and chatted about ridiculously everyday things over steaming mugs. By the time they were ready to go, Clark felt a million times better just for talking about nothing for a half-hour. Then his cell buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out.

"Hey, Chloe."

"Clark, I think I might have something. Can you come back to the office?"

"Yeah, Lana and I were just finishing up. See you in a bit." He shut the phone, and shrugged at Lana. "Is it just me, or our visits getting shorter?"

She returned the smile. "Let me know when you find Curtis, okay? And if I can help."

"Thanks, Lana." He turned to walk away, but she stopped him, climbing out of her chair.

"Hey-" He turned around and found her standing right behind him. Before he could stop her, she planted both hands on his shoulders, and pushed herself up, kissing him quickly on the cheek. Clark crumbled under touch, sinking to his knees on the tiled floor, gasping.

Lana screamed. "Clark!" She fell down next to him, grabbing his shoulders. "Clark, what's wrong?"

All his instincts told him to shove her away, but he couldn't do it. Breathing hard, he managed to say, "I'm okay…I just don't feel good…I'm- feeling sort of sick."

"Well, here, I'll help you to your car- you did drive, didn't you?"

Clark faltered. No, he ran, but he couldn't tell Lana that. "Uh…Chloe drove-" he really wished she'd let go of him, but she held fast to his shoulders.

"Well, then I'll drive you home-"

"No, no it's okay…I'm okay, I can…"

"I'll help you up."

"I can do it, Lana, it's okay." Still in agony, he forced himself up by a table. Once he was on his feet, Lana finally let go. The pain subsided and he could stand straight again. Everyone in the Cocoa Mocha was staring at the pair of them, but they finally went back to their coffee. Clark sighed, brushing himself off. "I guess…I should get home and get some sleep."

"Yeah, you do that," Lana said, concerned. "You sure you don't need a ride?"

"No, Chloe and I will figure something out. Besides, you have school." He smiled. "I'm okay, really. I'll call you later, all right?" She only nodded and watched him until he disappeared down the sidewalk.

- - - - -

"So he was removed the day before graduation."

"Yeah, look-" Chloe tapped her mouse and opened an internet window, pointing to a page of student records.

"How did you get these?"

Chloe blushed, and mumbled something about knowing a guy who knew a guy who thought she was cute. She scrolled down until she hit a page marked "Jaye, Curtis". Clark squinted at it. "Suspicion of theft?"

"They had reason to believe that Curtis stole a great deal of very expensive equipment and chemicals from the science lab. He wouldn't admit to it, and the evidence wasn't conclusive enough to convict him, but everyone was pretty sure it was him. They kept it quiet from the students, though, which is why we never knew."

"So they cut him from graduation. Can they do that?"

Chloe shrugged. "Apparently so. Why would he break in the day before graduation? He must have known if he was caught, he'd never get that diploma."

"Maybe because once he was no longer a student, he'd lose all his accessibility to the lab. Lana was telling me he was a science whiz, he was used to staying after hours to experiment down there."

"Lana knows him?"

"Yeah, get this- he's Whitney's cousin."

She looked as surprised as he had. "Good grief, he sure gets around. So how is Lana?" Clark sat heavily down in the chair behind her, spinning this way and that and not responding. "That good, huh?"

"She…she kissed me." Chloe winced on his behalf. "And, of course, I just fell apart. I think I scared her too." He rubbed his face. "I have to find this guy, Chloe, I can't…I can't not touch my girlfriend, I can't avoid contact with my parents and my best friends. It's got to stop."

"It's going to," she said gently, spinning back to her computer and hammering the keys for a few moments. "No good with the DMV. The number they have listed has been disconnected, and the address they had is a year old."

Clark sat up. "It says here that he was sent to live with his aunt for a short time and then moved out after his eighteenth birthday, taking the money his mother had left him in her will…yeah, but no address after that."

"His aunt?" Clark highlighted the correct paragraph so she could see. She sat back. "Mrs. Fordman."

"Whitney's mom," Clark nodded. "Maybe we should talk to her then. I should get back to Smallville anyway. Thanks for all your help, Chloe."

She nodded. "I'll let you know if I find anything new. Hey-" she grabbed his arm before she could stop herself, but let go instantly when he winced. "Sorry," she murmured, feeling suddenly how ugly this whole situation was. "You going to be okay?"

He straightened his jacket, staring down at his shoes, looking anything but okay, and nodded. "I'll be fine. I have to go."

"Clark-" But he vanished. Running down the highway, away from Metropolis at the speed of light, Clark was almost to the halfway point before he realized Chloe was speaking when he took off. He felt bad, but on the other hand, what could she say to him? She was so helpful, the best friend he had. The fact was, though, the only one who could stop all this was Curtis.

"You can't do this to me, I won't let you do it…" Clark whispered under his breath as he ran. Curtis had no idea what he was messing with. And this disaster couldn't have come at a worse time.

- - - - -

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Hello, Mrs. Fordman, I'm Clark Kent."

"Oh, Clark, come in, will you?" Clark wiped his shoes on the welcome mat, and stepped inside. Mrs. Fordman led him into the living room, and offered him a seat, but he declined.

"I just have a few brief questions, if that's all right."

She just smiled and sat down. "So…you were a friend of Whitney's, weren't you?"

Clark thought a moment, then nodded slowly, meaning it. "Yeah. Yeah I was. How are you doing, Mrs. Fordman?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I've been better. How's Lana?"

"She's fine, thanks." He turned to look at the pictures strung across the mantel. One of Mr. and Mrs. Fordman's seventh anniversary, one of Whitney and Lana having a very competitive-looking game of foosball, several shots of unfamiliar friends and family members. "This is a good shot of Whitney," he said, pointing to a large print of Whitney's army headshot.

"Doesn't he look handsome?"

Clark nodded distractedly, lifting up the picture behind it. "Is this Curtis?"

Mrs. Fordman rose out of her chair and came to look. "That's my nephew, all right. Do you know Curtis?" She seemed surprised.

"We've…met." His eyes scanned the shot of a younger-looking Curtis posed outside of an old pickup with a younger Whitney. They were both grinning brightly, and Curtis had given Whitney bunny ears.

"He was such a sweet child, before his father left," Mrs. Fordman mused sadly, taking the picture and setting it back on the mantel. "Actually, there's a picture of the three of them that you'd probably like. Here, I'll get it." She disappeared down the hallway, and a several long minutes later, returned with a shoebox. "Sorry it took so long. I really should go through all this stuff, it's so hard to find things in my closet."

"Doesn't this house have a basement?"

She nodded, flipping through the box. "Yes, but…well, that was Whitney's rec-room." She blinked as she rifled harder through the photos. "I just…I put all his stuff down there, and I don't really…"she suddenly pulled out a picture and handed it Clark, efficiently ending the unpleasant conversation. Clark looked at it.

Curtis, Whitney and Lana were all sitting in the living room, sprawled around the coffee table (where their homework lay forgotten). Whitney was lying flat on his back like someone had knocked him out, though he was still grinning. Lana was curled up on the rug next to him, laughing hard as Curtis knelt over her, tickling her and laughing as well.

"Isn't it a sweet picture?" Clark couldn't help smiling. Lana's smile had that effect on him. Mrs. Fordman seemed pleased that he liked it. "Curtis sure liked her. I could tell."

"Who, Lana?"

"The boy has good taste, doesn't he?" She returned the picture to the shoebox. Clark sat down on the coffee table.

"What makes you think he liked her?"

"Well, Whitney sure seemed to think so. He'd tackle Curtis to the ground if he caught him flirting with Lana, though, so it never went anywhere."

Clark waved at Mrs. Fordman as he walked down the porch steps, thanking her for her time. As he went off down the sidewalk, he thought over their conversation. On the one hand, Whitney always thought people were eyeing Lana. He'd strung Clark up in a field based on seeing the two of them together. On the other hand…Curtis' words ran through his memory.

The only reason she likes you is because she thinks you're something you're not.

Lana.

- - - - -