Chapter Eight: Pete Returns

Jett paced around the loft, alone and confused. What the hell is going on! I mean why would someone be so nice to me upon first meeting? Especially someone like Clark, whose freakin' Roswell wannabe secret could be found out so easily! I need to find out some answers and I need to get my fake I.D name back. I'm not getting ratted out unintentionally by some damn clone! He ran down the steps and right into Clark.

"Hey buddy," Jett said, putting on a happy face. He gave Clark a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"Hey - Jett - we need to talk," Clark said seriously.

"Well, alright," Jett said. "No problem man. So watta you wanna know?"

"I found this on the couch last night," Clark said, holding up Jett's fake I.D. "Brian Cowell seems to be a popular name. Now I think to myself, why would you need a fake I.D? Well you do look around sixteen, seventeen - old enough to drive - so why? Maybe because you're not. Now, don't you want your name back?"

Jett's face got all contorted. "You don't know nothin'! You can't begin to imagine what kinda horrors there are on the streets of Gotham City man! And yeah I want my name back. Call the little weasel Conner or something! It fits his dumb Kraptonian name or whatever!"

"First of all," Clark answered, no anger showing on his face at all. "Conner Kent ain't a bad idea. He'd be my cousin from Wichita."

"Why did you just out of the blue be nice to me, huh? Why!"

"Because I thought you reminded me of a kid I used to know. And a little bit of myself. You know, the clumsy young one making a fool of himself in front of a crowd."

"I don't care what you thought! Now I have this stupid burden of not blabbing your secret to the world. What's a reason for me not to use that as blackmail? I don't give a damn what you think!"

"Well, you will if I carry you back inside the house and we discuss this like normal people," Clark retorted, now getting a little annoyed.

"Like I said Clark, do whatever the heck you want. I'm out!" He didn't leave, only grabbed his hair in frustration and pulled, groaning.

"I know a lot more than you think," Clark told him matter-of-factly.

"You think you do, but you don't! You don't know what goes on in Gotham!"

"I think I do," said a man behind Jett. He was much taller than Jett, around Clark's height. He was built like a twig, lean and tall, though had obviously worked for years putting on a ton of muscle. This could easily be told because his face was one of a skinny young teenager, though his body was built like Clark's. He had jet black hair that was long and curved around the shape of his head. His hazel eyes seemed concentrated, like a business man's. He wore a suit and tie and held a small folder in his right hand. He walked past Jett and right up to Clark, extending his hand. "Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Clark Kent, I presume?"

Clark took his hand. "Yeah. It's a pleasant surprise to meet you. A great honor."

Bruce smiled. "Well, I wouldn't be too honored. I'm only a little bit older than you. I was talking to your friends last night at the Talon: Lex Luthor and Lana Lang I think her name is. They said you were s'pposed to be there?"

Clark rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had forgotten to go! "Oh about that," Clark began, hurried to apologize.

Bruce held out his hands. "It's okay! I just came over here to say hello. According to them you're quite the town hero."

"Actually town hero was two years ago," a familar voice said, coming up behind Clark. "Town legend is more like it." The smart, sassy, expressionistic, beautiful blonde super-sleuth Chloe Sullivan was always the first to boast about Clark's selfless heroism.

"Really now," Bruce said, impressed. "And you must be-?"

"Oh," Chloe said, laughing. "Chloe Sullivan, Daily Planet." She turned to Clark and whispered in his ear, "I love saying that."

Bruce chuckled. "Then I should probably stay away from you."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Naw, I'm not a reporter there, not yet anyways. I write... well, ok - I write the obituaries."

Bruce smiled at her. "Well that's nothing to be ashamed of. We all gotta start somewhere right?"

Clark rubbed his hands together, throwing the attention back onto him. "Well unless we're you Mr. Wayne, of course. With all due respect you did start at the top."

Bruce took a second and flipped through all of his memories. "Maybe from a certain point of view Clark, but not from my view. You see being who I am, knowing who I am, not the tabloid Bruce Wayne nor the newspaper Bruce Wayne - no offense Ms. Sullivan - I don't see the glass all that full. My parents were shot and killed right in front of me, my father's business was taken over by selfish businessmen, and most of my father's house workers quit. So basically I was left with a butler, a huge empty mansion whose sole purpose was to remind me of my parents, and too much money for such a young child."

Clark felt really bad. His insides twisted and turned, writhing themselves into knots. He tried to apologize but again Bruce shrugged it off, unaffected. "Still here," Jett said, obviously offended by people ignoring him.

"Oh yes, Jett Barry right?" Bruce asked. Jett nodded, mouth open in astonishment. "My dad knew your grandfather. Maxwell Barry right?" Again Jett nodded. "After his murder everything just kind of went down the tubes for your family. I'm sorry about that."

Jett's face got contorted again. He spit on Bruce's nicely polished shoes. "Not that you did anything about it," he said angrily. "I'm out!" He turned around and walked out of the barn.

"Jett," Clark yelled to him. Jett just lifted his hands that he didn't want to hear it.

"Don't worry about it. He'll come around," Bruce assured Clark, who seemed distressed.

"Now Clark," Bruce said to the Man of Steel as they walked up the stairs to the loft, "you and I have a lot in common. You know I used to be considered something of a town hero myself, well at least to my closest friends. But you! Smallville's personal Batman huh?"

Clark smiled. "Not exactly. I just seem to be in the right place at the right time."

Chloe's eyes widened and then rolled. "C'mon Clark, if anyone is to be congratulated on their courage and bravado it's you."

Bruce smiled and took a seat on the red couch next to Clark. "You know there is a business in heroes. It's not too big but you never know. Could have your own action figure."

Clark shook his head. "Naw, I don't think so Bruce. From my experience with corporate bigshots I'd probably end up wearing a bright colored suit and red spandex."

Chloe pulled her hair back behind her ears. "You never know Clark, that look might work for you. And spandex is the new leather. Especially the brightly colored ones."

Clark stifled a laugh. "Then how come you're not wearing them?"

"Oh, you're a jokester now?" She turned to Bruce and pointed at Clark. "Five letter word for hilarious - Clark."

That night the Kents got a knock on the door from the new Sheriff - Sheriff Knowles. "Sheriff?" Jonathan said, coming to the door. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm afraid not Mr. Kent." he held up a drawing of Jett. "Have you seen this boy lately?"

Clark stepped forward from the couch. "Umm, Sheriff Knowles, Why do you ask?"

He put the drawing away. "He was seen robbing the Talon."

This boy gets more and more like Bart everyday! Clark thought. Jonathan handled the sheriff. When he was done, Clark had already taken off out back.

Clark zipped into Chloe's dorm at Met-U. "He's gone."

"Who?"

"Jett. He took off and robbed the Talon. I don't know what to do, I can't find him anywhere."

"Did you try still at the Talon?"

Clark began to speak and then withheld it. His eyes widened in alert. With a whiff of papers flying he was off.

For the second time that night, the Kents got a visitor. Only she didn't knock. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Kent," Lois Lane said, barging in. "Have you seen - ah - Clark!" She walked up to Kon-El and grabbed his hand, pulling him off the couch.

Jonathan grabbed her hand and released it. "Uh Lois, this isn't Clark. It's his real cousin - Conner, Conner Kent - for now."

Lois furrowed her brow. "Well, I guess family resemblance does run strong in some families. Anyways, thanks. I've gotta jet. Actually I need a cup of coffee before I go. Do you mind?"

Martha smiled. "No Lois, of course not. And Clark is somewhere in town. If you find him, tell him we need him here."

"K," Lois said, leaving.

Clark entered the Talon and found Lana on one of the barstools. She got up and went to him. "The Talon's been robbed Clark, and by that little friend of yours."

Clark felt awkward. "You seem angry."

"Really? I wonder why!" She left him and went up the stairs to her apartment. "And by the way, Pete's here."

Just then Clark got a tap on the shoulder from Pete. "Hey man how've you been?"

Pete smiled. "I've been good Clark. How's the super powers?"

Clark looked around, making sure no one heard Pete. "They're fine. I kinda could use your help right now. Come back to the Farm with me."

Pete smiled and socked Clark's shoulder playfully. "Wouldn't be Smallville without one of Clark's adventures."