**A/N 03-2011: This is a new Chapter One (2 . One); the original is now Chapter Two (3 . Two) so on and so forth**
Disclaimer: DC content not mine. Not making $
Spoilers through Season 8. Alternate Universe. Set Post Season 7. Features some Original Characters. No Clark. Lex knows.
Cover Art: http : / /lyxanderblue .deviantart .com/gallery/#/d38wuyl
SOMEONE TO BELIEVE IN
"You hold the future of the entire planet in your hands; I'm here to take it back. I loved you like a brother, Clark, but it has to end this way."
- Lex Luthor, on the day Clark Kent died.
ONE
DOWNTOWN METROPOLIS
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CHLOE: Any luck?
GQ: nope no sign of Clark
CHLOE: We will find him Ollie.
GQ: got a lead on LL need the ld on a locale
CHLOE: Can it wait 20 min? Stepped out 4 a refill. Gotta swing by the Planet. Lo is on my case about r missin boyscout.
GQ: kinda need info now
CHLOE: Like life or death now? Or playboy impatient now?
GQ: somewhere in between
CHLOE: Turning around now. Was almost to the Planet. This better be urgent.
GQ: thx Chlo
.
Chloe Sullivan slipped her smartphone back into her purse and about-faced. It was a bright and pleasant fall Thursday morning, but the streets weren't too busy. She smelled coffee and hoped Oliver wasn't being an overly dramatic Queen. As she turned the corner away from the Daily Planet, Chloe heard a concussive boom and felt the ground tremble beneath her feet.
"What in the world..." she muttered.
The sounds of chaos and disaster ensued.
Chloe absently thought about texting Clark, but then the suffocating hand of anxiety and sadness squeezed her heart when she remembered she couldn't. She took a breath, steeled herself, and sprinted back around the corner. The picturesque scene around the Daily Planet had changed drastically. There was smoke and auto debris covering the previously busy thoroughfare, now congested with dazed pedestrians and immobilized vehicles.
Then she saw the Metropolis city-bus on its side.
.
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THE DAILY PLANET
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"Hey, Jeff," Lois Lane called to a passerby as her fingers tapped quickly on her keyboard. She wasn't actually typing, but rereading an article for the fourth time. "Is the new boss here yet? I want to make a good first impression before anyone else makes a bad one."
"No clue, Lane."
"Well, I don't wanna sit here at my desk all day waiting for her to grace us with her presence. Any idea when she's gonna show?"
"It's a slow news day. Chill."
"Chill?" Lois repeated. "Listen Hage, don't tell me to—"
Boom.
The basement bull-pin shook, dust and loose drywall trickled to the floor like soft rain with a dull tinkling.
"So much for the slow news days."
Lois grabbed her things and was up the stairs in under a minute.
"Oliver," Chloe said sternly into her phone, "I'm sorry, but the yellow brick road to the emerald city is kinda blocked by a big flaming bus...no, I'm fine...No! If you can't make it through without my guidance then don't go in. Can you just give me a little longer? It's a mad house here right now...I'll saddle up in an hour; can you hold off until then?...Alright, stay safe out there."
Chloe tried to make it back towards the Daily Planet. The bus had lit up like a Roman candle less than a block from front doors of the newspaper; she wanted to make sure Lois was okay.
As she approached the city blockades, firefighters and rescue workers were already hard at work. Chloe saw a young girl moving towards them, disoriented and covered in soot. Her Goth clothes and purple streaked black hair were extremely disheveled. There were scorch marks on her bare shoulders.
Oh my God! She must have been on the bus.
Chloe saw the girl sway and then collapse to the sidewalk; she was alone. Chloe broke from the crowd of onlookers and rushed to the girl's aid.
"Oh my God, are you okay?" Chloe asked the girl who was coughing desperately. Chloe gingerly steadied her and then immediately yelled, "Can somebody help us over here, please?"
A paramedic—tall, dark and handsome with a chiseled jaw and a determined expression—emerged from the smoke.
"Over here," Chloe called to him.
He waivered and paused when he saw her. An expression passed over his face that Chloe didn't understand; they shared a brief look. Then, he was on the move again, hurrying to them.
"Hi," Chloe said gratefully as he knelt down next to them. The girl continued to cough and gasp for breath. She was frightened and in shock.
"Was she on the bus?"
"I don't know."
"Can you do a—Hold on to this for me?" the paramedic told Chloe more than asked, handing her the bottle of oxygen. Then to the girl he asked, "What's your name?"
"Bette," she wheezed.
"You inhaled a lot of smoke Bette; we're gonna give you a little fresh air," he told Bette, and then slid the mask over her head. He was careful of the bleeding cut on her forehead. "Take slow deep breaths. Try to stay calm, okay? I'm gonna check you over, see if anything hurts."
Bette grabbed hold of Chloe's hand, which was gripping the top of the oxygen.
"Hang in there, Bette," Chloe whispered soothingly. Bette's eyes followed her fearfully as the paramedic examined the girl. "It's okay."
"You're doing great," the paramedic told Bette, then glanced at Chloe with a smirk and added, "you too."
"Thank God you heard me," she told him.
"You're hard to miss," the paramedic said casually yet still focused on Bette. The remark surprised her, but Chloe couldn't help be a little flattered.
"Apart from breathing in all that smoke, you're gonna be okay," he explained to Bette. "We should still get you to MetGen to be sure. Think you can make it to my rig?"
"Uh huh."
Chloe attentively supported Bette's weight as the paramedic slowly helped the girl to her feet.
"Can you grab my bag?" he asked, nodding to one of the red duffles he had brought with him.
"Yeah, of course."
"Thanks, uh?"
"Chloe."
"Davis."
"You make a good wingman, Chloe," he said kindly, beaming at her. He then blanched at his potential politically incorrect faux pas and hastily corrected himself, saying, "Wing-person. Thank you for your help."
She smiled and nodded, amused by his pleasantly unexpected behavior, and then followed them to an available ambulance.
"Hey! Hey, get back. It's gonna blow!"
.
.
BROADWAY STREET, OUTSIDE DAILY PLANET
.
Lois had her pad in one hand and her phone in the other as she texted fervently.
.
LOIS: Olsen. Big break. Big Boom. Where are you?
JIMMY: Smallville. Looking for Chloe. Seen her?
LOIS: Not today. More concerned with exploding bus. Priorities man.
JIMMY: Save me some aftermath.
.
Lois wondered how she was ever going to get ahead in this business without a reliable photographer. She'd settle for a decent partner. Though she'd never admit it, she thought Clark might have come through for her. He never even turned in that application she gave him.
"Whoa, hey! Watch yourself," someone called.
Lois felt strong hands gripping her arms from behind and pulling her. A piece of flaming awning tumbled to the ground, landing at her feet.
"You can let go now," she said.
"You're welcome."
Lois spun around, side stepping the flaming metal shard. A tall man with dark hair and dark eyes was smiling back at her. His red button up shirt, tight over his large shoulders, was smeared with ash. He sported a groomed beard, about a week's growth, and a small faux hawk, but those too, as well as his tanned skin, were mussed with soot.
"Yeah, thanks. Whatever," Lois said and shrugged.
"Hey, you're Lois Lane, right?" he said. "You work for the Inquisitor? Lots of big alien and scandal tabloid stories."
"I think your sources are a little off, buster," she refuted, a sharp laugh masking her offense.
"Yeah, that's great. Nice to meet ya, Lois," he said distractedly, skirting around her quickly and heading for the street, "Excuse me."
Lois spun around again and watched him jog towards the bus. There was some commotion going on around it. The workers seemed to be upset and tense, like something was wrong. The way the man interacted with them, familiar but authoritative, she guessed him to be a cop.
Maybe a little damsel in distress eavesdropping will get me some leads, she smiled to herself and moved into the street.
"Hey! Hey, get back. It's gonna blow!" her cop yelled, waving her away.
.
.
"Chloe," Davis said urgently to her, "Stay here with Bette. I'll be right back."
"Hey, what are you doing? It's not safe."
"There are still people in there! Stay with Bette."
Chloe reached out as he took off, but he was gone. She looked back and saw someone else tending to Bette.
"You'll be okay here," Chloe assured her, "I'll be back in sec."
Bette reached for her hand again. Chloe squeezed it and tried to let go, but Bette wasn't having it. Chloe nodded to her and patted her hand, sitting down on the Ambulance tailgate. Leaning, she could just barely see Davis arriving at the bus. A kid with a skateboard brushed passed him hurriedly.
Clark, we could really use you right about now.
Davis arrived at an arguing mixed group. He could tell someone had messed up and protocol wasn't being followed, but he knew there were people still trapped inside. After listening for a moment, he sidestepped them rather than join the fray. Moving quickly, he scanned the side, or rather the roof, of the bus for a way in. Moving to the back, he saw the large rear window was cracked but still in place. He felt someone at his side.
"You need a hand?" It was one of the men from the arguing group. He had on a red shirt.
"Probably," Davis said absently, still focused on the bus.
Redshirt walked up to the window, turned his back to it, and, with his elbow, slammed into the glass. The window cracked further, but did not shatter.
"Ow. That didn't work like I planned."
"Smooth," Davis commented dryly, "Yeah, that's not gonna work. That stuff is tempered. Windshield glass shatters instead of cracking, but it takes a lot force to get it there."
"How about this?" Red shirt asked, picking up a stout fallen branch that resembled a baseball bat.
Davis nodded appreciatively and found a similar one. A swing a piece and another one equally timed brought the glass tinkling down. Smoke poured out and there was commotion. They helped five or six people—Davis had trouble keeping track—climb out. They took off before he could ask if anyone else was inside. Davis and Redshirt were suddenly shoulder to shoulder trying to climb in.
"Hey man, appreciate the help but," Davis said, pointing to the emblem on his jacket, "I got this. Why don't you wait here, and anyone I find I'll hand out to you."
"Yeah, you're an EMT. All the more reason for you to stay safe out here and treat anyone I haul out."
They struggled shoulder to shoulder before they both ended up climbing in. Davis managed to land in front of Redshirt. The smoke was thick and he immediately knelt down. He couldn't believe the state of the inside of the bus. It must have been a bomb. They helped several more conscious people out. The first unconscious person he came to was a red-haired business woman. She still had a pulse, good breath sounds, and no sign of head or spinal trauma.
"Help me get her out of here," Davis said to Redshirt.
Redshirt tried to respond but coughed and then nodded. Davis scooped her up and they shuffled her back and forth, trying to get her safely out the window. Redshirt ended climbing out and Davis handed her to him. He climbed out after him to check her vitals. Davis landed in front of Redshirt, the redhead cradled between them in Redshirt's arms. Her eyes fluttered open unexpectedly. She looked up first at Redshirt and then to Davis.
"Guess this must be my stop."
They both grinned at her.
"Hey! What are you guys doing? Are you crazy?" A police woman rounded the bus and ushered them away.
"There are still people in there," he said, stopping to argue with her.
"We know that. But it's not safe to go in there until the squad has locked things down."
"Every second we waste people could be dying in there. We have to get those—"
Davis never heard the explosion; he only felt the impact of something hard and sharp to the back of his head, and then blackness.
.
.
METROPOLIS GENERAL HOSPITAL
.
"Looks like my guy one up'd your guy for the save," Lois quipped once they'd finished trading stories. "And I've got a story."
"Yeah, I don't think so," Chloe said, standing up from the ER exam bed to stretch, "Davis gets the Purple Heart for being wounded in the line of duty. And he's not my guy. Jimmy's my guy."
"Olsen, right. Jimmy's a good guy, Chlo. Only the best for my baby coz."
Chloe smiled and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead.
"Speaking of which, Lo," Chloe said, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."
Lois gave her an apprehensive ,confused look, "Alright, shoot."
"Well, Jimmy...he sort of...proposed."
Silence.
Chloe waited.
"Olsen? Jimmy Olsen? Popped the big 'Q'? Wow, didn't know he had it in him."
"Yeah."
"Well, hey!" Lois said, standing up and wrapping Chloe in a hug, "Congratulations."
"Um, well, Lo. You might wanna hold off with the nuptial celebrations there."
"You turned him down?" Lois asked, surprised, pulling out of the hug. "Poor guy's probably heart broken. You just weren't feeling it?"
"No," Chloe said slowly, "I...I didn't say 'no.'"
"So you're having second thoughts? It's a little early for cold feet."
"I didn't say 'no' and I didn't not say 'no,'" Chloe drawled out, she walked away from the bed and let out a big sigh. She then turned back to Lois, "I didn't answer. I didn't say anything."
Lois stared at her incredulously.
"It's all a little complicated. I mean he asked and it was all perfect and romantic and my heart was all a flutter. And that's when Lex dropped the dime on me and I was whisked away to big sky country."
"Right in the middle of his down on one knee routine? Talk about bad timing...So, now the question's just hanging up there over your heads not being talked about or what?"
"We talked about, alright." Chloe said, "Once."
"Didn't go so well?"
"Didn't go."
The doctor returned to report everything checked out fine for Lois and was quickly examining Chloe. Lois's phone buzzed while the doctor was speaking to Chloe. Lois peaked over his shoulder while covering the receiver.
"Sorry, Chlo'," Lois said, "I gotta go. Meeting the new boss today. We'll talk later. Promise."
Chloe nodded. She was grateful Lois had to run. She didn't feel like discussing Jimmy's preempted proposal. The Doctor finished and was about to leave.
"I was wondering if you could give me an update on the young girl that came in with me," Chloe asked. "Her name is Bette. That's the only name I have for her."
Chloe then described her but the doctor didn't know anything. Chloe thanked him and was heading for the waiting room when Davis entered the ER.
"Davis!"
"Hey, Chloe. You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" Chloe asked with concern and a bit of confusion. "I thought you were hurt in the explosion."
"Uh," Davis paused. "No. No, I'm fine. Just knocked out by the blast, I guess. I checked out okay."
"That's pretty amazing."
Davis shrugged, rubbing his arm and looking away.
"Well," Chloe said, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm glad you're okay. Have you heard anything about Bette?"
"No, nothing. We could try to find out, though. Ask at the nurse's station."
Chloe smiled and nodded. She followed his lead since it was his turf and waited for him to finish talking. Her phone vibrated in her purse. The caller ID read GQ.
Oliver.
"No news," Davis said, "We'll have to keep asking."
"I...uh...I need to go," Chloe said, holding up her phone, "Something came up. Could you let me know if you find out anything?"
"Sure, no problem," he said, "Except, I don't have your number, Chloe. Or a last name. Or anyway to get in touch with you or keep you from walking out of my life forever the second you disappear through those doors."
Chloe looked down and fought a smile as she dug in her purse for a pen. She settled for an Isis Foundation business card.
"This'll have to do," Chloe told him, handing him the card, "It was nice meeting you, Davis."
She hurried away before he could respond and was on her phone.
"Oliver, I'm so sorry."
.
.
DAILY PLANET
.
Lois was reading over the reports from the accident when she heard the chair at the empty desk across from her squeaking. She looked up to see the red shirted cop, who had changed into a brown blazer. Instead of ash, a self-satisfied grin was smeared across his face.
"That was a nice save out there; might get a good story out of it. But there are laws about stalking people," Lois told him, returning her attention to her screen, "you should know."
"Hmm. I'm not a cop."
"Detective, whatever. You guys are so touchy."
"I don't work for the force," he replied coolly. "You jumped to that conclusion yourself, which I hear you do. A lot."
Lois smiled mirthlessly at him, perturbed.
"Who the hell are you then?" she inquired restrainedly.
"Heh, I'm a field reporter. Spent the last few years in Afghanistan. Hope it gave me enough training to be your desk mate."
"Don't bet on it. And don't' get comfortable in that chair. It's already taken."
"Whoever it was dropped out, didn't follow up or whatever. It's mine now."
Lois frowned.
He got up and came around the desk, offering his hand.
"The name's Van."
"As in mini?" Lois scoffed.
"As in Vandal. Like a juvenile delinquent," he corrected. "And don't bother with the clever jokes, I've heard them all."
"I doubt that," Lois muttered, then remarked. "Whoever named you is just cruel. You're lucky we don't use a lot of first names around here. You gotta last name?"
"Vanderbilt. Vandal Vanderbilt." Lois stared. Then blinked twice. "Van it is," she conceded with an eye roll.
"Like I said."
"Boss wants to see you."
It was Jeff Hage.
"Alright, Van. Wish me luck." Lois said, rising from her chair.
"Not you, Lane," Jeff stopped her with a hand, and then pointed to the new guy. "Him."
Smug, he beamed devilishly at her. She glowered.
"See you in the trenches, Lois," Van said with a small two finger salute as he followed Hage. "Lead the way, Jeff."
"Okay..."
.
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DAILY PLANET, EDITORs OFFICE
.
A blond assistant let Van into the lavish art-decco office that once belonged—and still did—to Lex Luthor. His new boss was facing away from him, starring out the window.
"Have a seat Mr. Vanderbilt," she told him.
Van decided to comply and walked towards the cozy leather chairs. She came around to greet him and shake his hand. The face of his new boss was one and the same of the woman he and that cocky paramedic had rescued earlier that day.
"Tess Mercer, acting CEO of Luthor Corp," she said with a pleasant tone and expression.
"You're my boss?" Van asked; his tone was heavy with incredulity.
"You weren't this shy when I was the damsel in distress," Tess replied coolly. "Don't tell me you're intimidated by a powerful woman?"
"No," he replied with a laugh, "Just wouldn't expect you to be back at work so soon."
"Well, I have big shoes to fill, and the paramedic said I was fine."
"I'm glad to hear it." Van told her, and then added, "You take the bus often, Ms. new CEO of LuthorCorp. Did you not inherit the Luthor salary?"
"I'm going green," she said, leaning in as if whispering a secret, "You know, doing what I can to save the planet. For the sake of the shareholders, let's keep that between ourselves. Hmm?"
Van nodded his agreement even if he didn't buy it.
"Seems we were destined to meet?" Tess continued. "I already had you on my 'to do' list today."
Van guffawed. He wasn't much for subtleties.
"Lex told me all about you."
"Really?" Van said skeptically. "I find that hard to believe. There isn't much to tell, promise. What did Lex have to say?"
"Hmm. Well, most of it was written reports from before and during your time at the foreign desk. Several heroic incidents overseas. Sounds like you like to make the news as much as report it. He said you had a thing for saving people. After this morning, I'd say that's true."
"What can I say? I like action."
"Hmm," Tess hummed, as if musing, though she was all but dripping with sarcastic skepticism. "Ever since Lex's disappearance, I have used all of LuthorCorp's resources to find him."
Tess shifted gears so fast, Van had proverbial whiplash. Although, he wasn't as caught off guard as she might have expected. It was clearly a tactic of hers to ferret out information. What it was she thought he might know, Van wasn't sure.
"I'd imagine that'd be your first priority as interim head of the company," Van stated. Then asked more genially, "Do you have any leads?
"The world's a big place? Since you're just getting back from the other side of it. I was hoping you could tell me where to look, if you'd heard anything."
Van shook his head and shrugged.
"Fair enough. But if you do think of something, please give me a call."
"Is that all?"
Her head barely inclined to indicate he could leave. Van didn't waste any time vacating her office; he passed the blonde assistant again. Kat, he thought her name was. He paused at the door and listened a moment.
"Handsome," Kat was saying.
She wishes.
"And a liar," Tess added acerbically.
"I'll have someone keep an eye on him."
"No," Tess declined. "I'll watch this one personally."
.
.
ISIS FOUNDATION
Chloe stood on the table in the backroom at Isis trying to change a light bulb in the massively ornate fixture. Even in heels, she just couldn't reach.
"You know, if you just reach a little bit higher, you're definitely gonna need an ambulance." It was Davis.
"Well, I'm lucky there's a paramedic in the building."
"Ha, ha," he replied, climbing up on the table. "I wanted to give an update on Bette, but you didn't answer the phone and I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by. Ahem, gimme."
Chloe felt him behind her as he took the bulb and twisted it into place. She turned around and found herself face to face with him. The proximity was unexpected and startling. She was close enough to smell him and look into his eyes. She had seen looks like that before, like when Clark stared at Lana. She dismissed it. She thought she must be imagining it. She found herself scrounging for thoughts, which felt odd, and finally broke the trance with a "That's great."
He helped her down from the table.
"Thank you."
He nodded and looked around the room.
"Isis Foundation," he remarked. "So, what? Adopt a pyramid, save a sphinx? That kinda thing?"
"Heh, cute," Chloe said, and then struggled with how to tactfully and vaguely explain it away. She thought about the Watchtower setup hidden just a few feet away and about the multiple active search protocols running simultaneously scanning the globe for Clark. A wave of urgent worry crashed over her. Instead she said, "Uh, actually, it's more like a counseling center. I'm housesitting for a friend until she finds someone to take it over."
"I'm surprised I haven't heard of it. The hospital sends out updates on all the mental health facilities." Davis replied.
"Well," Chloe drawled, dogging the issue poorly. "She has very specific clients. People with, uh, special skills that are sometimes a little dangerous."
"You mean like meteor types?"
Chloe did a double take. Had she heard him correctly?
"I drive an ambulance in Metropolis, Chloe. I've seen a lot of things. At least enough to know that they could use the help. Have you ever thought about helping them?
"No, I don't—"
"I saw you with Bette today," he cut her off, "You cared enough to take her under your wing. That's rare. And think how hard it must be for meteor people to find someone they can trust."
Chloe shrugged. She picked up the vase of old flowers from the table and removed the dead blooms, tossing them into the waste bin. "So, how is Bette?"
"Well," Davis drawled, obvious wanted to delay his answer. That grabbed her attention and curiosity. "She didn't make it."
"What?" Chloe breathed in disbelief.
"Yeah...Poor kid. Looks like she was a street brat or a runaway. No records on her and I was the first to inquire about her."
"Gosh." Chloe was a stunned.
"I'm sorry. I'm a little more used to this whole 'you can't save everyone routine.' This must be rough on you."
"But she was fine. You said so yourself," Chloe protested.
"She was. I mean, she checked out fine: just a little smoke inhalation," Davis continued, "It happens, though. Shock hides things. Sometimes trauma victims have underlying problems that we don't catch at the scene; that's why a lot of them get taken to the ER for a workup. I'm not a doctor...and we can miss things in the field."
"What kind of things?" Chloe queried, narrowing her eyes.
"I'm not really allowed to say, Chloe."
"Oh come on, Davis. You weren't her doctor, like you said. So that whole doctor-patient-confidentiality thing doesn't really apply here, does it?"
"Chloe...I—" Davis stammered, "Alright, you're not really streetwise, so I'm betting you didn't notice the track marks."
Chloe cocked her head. She was a little offended by the remark.
You have no idea the wits I have about me. No one did. No one knew about her new gifts. Her mind was concocting complex algorithms to plug into her next search with ease while having a conversation completely undistracted. Though not as undistracted as expected. There was something about Davis that drew more of her attention than she intended.
"She was kind of covered in ash, Davis."
"Alright," Davis said. "Granted, I didn't see them until tonight at the hospital, but with a kid like that, it's not uncommon."
"Isn't that kinda stereotyping?"
"Maybe if she hadn't been an addict, but she overdosed on Heroine," Davis said solemnly. "They found needles and stuff on her. She used in the hospital and it didn't mix well with her other meds."
"That's terrible. Poor girl."
"See, that's what I'm talking about, Chloe," Davis said exuberantly, "you really cared about this girl that you didn't even know. I think you could really help these people."
"But am I streetwise enough?"
"Okay. Forget about that," he conceded, "I can come off a little strong."
"That's okay. At least now I understand where it comes from," she said.
"Understand how?"
Now Chloe was slightly embarrassed and wished she'd kept her mouth shut.
"Well, I googled you," she admitted, busying herself with the filing of some stray paperwork. "I read an interview you gave about running away from foster homes as a kid."
"You researched me?" Davis asked in disbelief, chuckling. "Well, I always kind of wanted my own stalker."
"Ha, ha. It isn't like that, Davis. It's just that—No, really. I used to be a reporter and so I have a serious curiosity complex."
"Okay. Yeah," Davis retorted affably, yet completely unconvinced.
"And I'm engaged," she blurted. She watched his entire demeanor change; she definitely wasn't imagined things. With less zeal, she added, "Or, rather I'm seeing someone."
"Well, which is it?"
Chloe fished the silly blue vending machine ring out of her pocket and idly toyed with it. How could she say yes to Jimmy when Clark was missing? She was wasting precious time at that very moment, yet she couldn't bring herself to rush him away.
"He asked...and I haven't accepted yet. I'm going to. When the time's right."
Why am I telling him this?
"Well, um—Congratulations," he said, obviously putting on a face. "That's a very unique engagement ring."
"Uh, well it's the story behind the ring that really makes it special," she said. "I went away for a while, and he never gave up on me."
"Well, Chloe, I grew up hearing a lot of four letter words and love wasn't exactly one of them. If you found it, real love, hold on to it." Davis was in complete earnest and she couldn't help but be moved and find it a little endearing. He laughed at his own sentiments despite the sincerity. "And if anyone tells you that's a cliché, I'll personally kick their ass."
The both chuckled.
"Well, I should go..." he said slowly.
"Thanks, Davis, for stopping by." Chloe said sweetly, walking him out.
Davis walked towards the door, but then stopped and turned around.
"Chloe," he called softly to her, his voice warm but hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna regret it if I walk out of here and don't say anything, so, would it be too forward of me to say that if you decide not to accept this guy's proposal, to call me?"
Chloe looked down and smiled.
"Goodnight, Davis."
Chloe shook her head and chuckled to herself when he left, locking the door behind him; this Davis had come out of nowhere. She returned to the backroom and saw she had one new text message. She hoped it was Oliver with good news.
JIMMY: Been looking for you all day. Busy tonight?
Chloe sighed and started to reply, but stopped. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, then typed a reply.
CHLOE: Sorry. Lotta Isis paperwork. Rain check?
She didn't wait for a response, but flung open the double doors concealing the elaborate and high-tech system. Each large screen displayed the words "No results found" in large white on black letters. Chloe sighed again and settled in, starting from scratch.
Clark, where are you?
A/N: thanks for reading. Reviews welcome. I decided to twist in pieces of the show throughout and let the changes slowly unfurl.
Yes, Van fulfilled some of Clark's roll here. That was intentional. He's also an intentional mash up, in a way, of Season Eight's Sebastian Cane and Season Nine's John Corban.