**A/N 03-2011: There is a new Chapter One (2 . One); the original is now Chapter Two (3 . Two); this chapter was second after the prologue and is now Chapter Three (4 . Three)**

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.

THREE

.

The ISIS FOUNDATION

.

"Jimmy! I– ," Chloe protested into her phone, as she typed furiously at her keyboard. "I know. I know!...Jimmy, I...could you just...wait, I...Jimmy! Jimmy? "

She exhaled noisily and tossed her phone onto the table, a little more harshly than she intended. Brushing aside with annoyance the blonde bangs that had grown out too much, she reached for her towering cup of triple espresso infused steamed milk. She put it to her lips, ready to knock it back.

Empty.

The cup came down on the table top more forcibly than intended. Chloe wanted to chalk it up to caffeine withdrawal. Or overdose. But there was that niggling voice of reason in the back of her mind that told her it was more. She was ragged around the edges in a way that was unfamiliar and reminded her more of Lois than herself.

Chloe had come back from Black Creek different. She tried to write it off to Oliver as stress over Clark disappearing, to Lois as emotional duress from Jimmy's marriage proposal, and to Jimmy as the combined stress of her being fired from her dream job, arrested by the Department of Domestic Security, and abandoned by her two best friends in the span of a few weeks. As long as she kept the issues compartmentalized to each person, she could handle it. The problem was they all kept prying about other things and it was all spilling over and mixing together.

What they didn't know was what Chloe assumed Lex probably did: her brain was a supercomputer. Once free from meteor-infected prison, she hacked into every LuthorCorp system she could and erased all the information they had on her. Firewalls seemed to drop for her with little more than the press of the delete key, but she was sure there were terabytes of data in un-networked drives that were out of her reach. The rest of her time had been spent searching for Clark and checking up on Lex.

How Oliver had not seen the changes in her, she wasn't sure. They were all frazzled and on edge looking for Clark and waiting for the other shoe to drop, whether it be Clark's whereabouts or what Lex knew. Nonetheless, her hacking skills had gone from analog to digital and then some, and Oliver seemed none the wiser. Maybe he didn't notice, maybe he didn't care. That was fine by her. She would take any advantage she could get if it meant protecting Clark's secret and bringing him home safely: to hell with the costs.

Chloe knew there would be a cost. She had been around Clark and his super -secret world long enough to know that. What would be her cost? Even Clark's gifts had a cost. They cost him his freedom, his dad, Lana, and maybe his life.

No!

Not that. She wasn't ready to accept that yet. He was just lost or hidden somewhere, maybe locked away for safe-keeping by Jor-El again. She would find him. And shouldn't wait around worrying about the cost. She would pay the piper when he came, just like Jonathon Kent did if she had to.

There was no point in telling anyone. She knew that. They would only worry and try to help or fix it. There was nothing anyone could do, of that Chloe was severely confident. Even if there was something to be done, she needed her new skills too badly at present to give them up.

And who could she tell? Not Lois. Not Oliver, even if he was privy to a few things Kryptonian she wasn't about to distract him from the search for Clark. He'd understand that her new skills were necessary.

And Jimmy?

No. When she had finally admitted to Jimmy months earlier she had a meteor-power, he had reacted better and worse than expected. How could she explain to him that her built-in glow-and-heal feature went into remission when she was infected by an evil Kryptonian supercomputer AI that had given her every hacker's dream upgrade?

"What's a Kryptonian?" she mused he would say. That was one conversation she just wasn't having. Clark's secret had to be protected more than ever. With even the possibility of Lex knowing Clark's secret, they had done everything possible to cover their tracks. She and Oliver had ransacked the farm for every Kryptonian artifice they could find—crystals, notebooks, boxes of Kryptonite in its various incarnations, hexagonal and diamond-shaped trinkets—and safely locked them away in several safe locations, some under Queen Industries' security and other's hidden away by Chloe. Neither of them knew where all of it was hidden, in case either of them was compromised.

In the meantime, Lois wanted to know whether she was planning a wedding or a single-girls' night out. Chloe had been able to throw blood-hound Lane off the scent of missing Clark with Jimmy's proposal sitting in limbo, but not for long. It had gotten messy and she eventually resorted to using her new-found skills and forged an email from Clark to Lois, saying he had decided to spend some time with Kara and their family in Minnesota. A brief, intermittent correspondence ensued and Lois ended up "breaking the news" to Chloe that Clark had moved up north indefinitely.

Kara.

Now there was another story. Where was she? What had Braniac done with her? If anyone could help Chloe find Clark, it was her. Kara, however, might be in need of saving of her own. Had Lex Luthor single handedly brought down the entire house of El in a few short weeks? No. She wouldn't accept that. Not yet. As far as she was concerned, this was just another chapter in Clark's book of absent and unavailable without reason or notice. And to everyone else, the Kents were on vacation.

With the rest of the world reconciled to Clark's whereabouts, there was little explanation for Chloe's distracted and bizarre behavior. Jimmy was understanding at first, then jealous of all the attention Clark was getting from her, and finally angry and bitter that she had yet to answer his proposal.

It all boiled down to a serious case of bad timing. Chloe had just gotten out of the hospital after a confrontation with a wolf in a blonde's clothing when Jimmy got down on one knee. In the middle of his confession of undying love and promises of forever, Chloe was abducted by goons posing as Feds and then locked away for over a month.

Her world was already spinning out of control, but when she got out her best friend was missing and everything else seemed less important. The real problem was, in the moment, Chloe was one hundred percent ready to say yes. Now, it was all so messy. It wasn't that Chloe didn't want to say "yes," she just really wanted to say "yes, but just not right now." She could imagine how well that would go over.

Marriage would change everything, but even more so, an engagement would take everything. She didn't have time and smiles and thoughts to give to planning a wedding; not like Jimmy deserved, not like she wanted. How could she waste her time with diamonds and taffeta when Clark Kent had vanished at the North Pole and the last person to see him alive was presumably Lex Luthor?

Jimmy was slipping through her fingers and she barely noticed.

Chloe sighed at the thought, pushing it from her mind, and reached for her cup again. Her hand paused in mid-air.

"Time for a refill," she said to herself.

Gathering her things and locking down the computers, Chloe sealed up the Watchtower setup and headed for the door. She paused at the door and fumbled in her purse for keys. She jolted, startled, when she saw the backside of someone bent over next to the reception desk; the person, definitely a man, was about Oliver's height and build was, and the top of his golden head was visible. She wasn't expecting him until late that evening.

"I get that sneaky is your biz, Ollie, but you should really make a habit of announcing your presence. I'm not really one for surprises these days." Chloe said, placing a hand over her racing heart; she thought of the handgun in her purse Oliver had given her. Without Clark to run interference, they were more careful of late. As an afterthought concerning the shapely, raised posterior, she added with admiring smirk, "Not that I mind the view."

He stood and turned around; a different face than expected appeared from behind the counter of the reception desk.

"Oh!" The young-man-that-was-not-Oliver said, "I didn't realize anyone was here."

A million or so questions and possibilities ran through the lightning-speed processor that was her brain in a few seconds. There was no record of his face, though it was strikingly familiar somehow, especially the eyes. It was exceedingly frustrating for her now when she couldn't think of something

"You wanna tell me how you found yourself inside a locked office," Chloe asked, "or should I just call the police now and save us both the trouble?"

"With the keys," he replied simply, jingling a pair next to his smiling face. "You must be Chloe Sullivan." the young man said with a toothy, friendly grin, dusting his hands off on a cloth. He came around the desk with an outstretched hand; he rescinded it slowly, his smile fading, when she didn't take it.

"My name is Christopher. Christopher Hawke. Ms. Lang sent me to...take care of things around here for a while," he said, absently brushing the blond hair out of his brown eyes. Those eyes were so familiar to Chloe; it was killing her that she couldn't place them. Then she actually heard what he said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm the new caretaker for the Isis Foundation," Christopher reiterated. "I'll be running things around here for a while, on Ms. Lang's behalf of course."

Chloe couldn't help but laugh. That was her job, or at least unofficially it was. She didn't need someone nosing around, especially with everything else on her plate at the moment. She eyed him with skeptical curiosity.

"Really," she said more than asked, as she skirted passed him towards the receptionist computer. "I find that hard to believe. I think she might have mentioned something like that."

"Right. Cause she's so...accessible these days."

Chloe pursed her lips and frowned. He had a point.

"And you know Lana how?"

He stood across from her smirking, chin on fist and elbow on counter.

"We're...old friends," he replied simply. Despite his ambiguity, she sensed more sincerity than guile. "I work for Ms. Lang on an...as needed basis."

"We don't really need a receptionist," Chloe parried, as she typed away.

"Funny," he replied, unfazed. "Listen...Chloe? May I call you Chloe? I understand you have your hands full around here. I'm here to take some of the load off."

She considered the information on the screen and weighed whether or not she bought it. It was acceptable for the moment. She left the computer and returned to the center of the waiting room.

"Look, Christopher, I'm sure you're a nice guy, and that you're adequately qualified for whatever is you think you'd be doing here—"

"Adequate," he interjected. "Oh, nice."

"—but this is a very...specialized...foundation," Chloe continued measuredly, trying to wrap up and get rid of Christopher as quickly as possible. "We have all the help we need around here right, now. So, thanks, but no thanks."

Chloe opened the door and gestured that he should leave.

"Chloe," Christopher said simply, no longer smiling. "I wasn't asking."

Chloe cocked her head, taken aback by his gall. She assumed a closed-lip, mirthless smile and then began again with a different approach. "I know it's a tough economy and I'm sure you mean you well, but you're scamming the wrong girl for a job. We don't really pay around here. And if we did...well...we deal with some sensitive information here that's way above your pay grade."

"The 'research facilities.'" Christopher interrupted, using his fingers to put quotes around the latter two words, "The one that cost a small fortune. The one that's poorly concealed behind those double doors in there."

Christopher nodded simply towards her Watchtower setup that Lana's divorce settlement from Lex had paid for. His face was challenging her for a response. He could walk right in there and open the doors and she would still deny what it was.

"Oh, you meant the patient files of the meteor-infected," he said sarcastically, "My bad."

He smiled kindly at the look of surprise Chloe was fighting. She glanced out the open door and quickly closed it, hoping no one overheard him. She walked up to him and spoke firmly. "I'm not sure what you think you know, but I've got a lot to do and I don't really have any more time for this."

"Good," Christopher grinned at her, and went back to his boxes. "Then you'd better get going. I've got plenty to keep me occupied here."

Chloe scoffed aloud at his impudence, eyeing him in disbelief. Christopher paused at the computer and cocked his head.

"You googled me," he said, still grinning. "I should have expected as much. Let's see...what did you find? Christopher Hawke. Twenty-Three. Graduated 2003 with a high school diploma and an A.A. from Ashbury College boarding school in Ottawa—that's right, I'm Canadian. Don't hate—Received a Bachelors in Art History—boring, I know—from École des Beaux-Arts in Bourges, France in 2005.

"It gets a little fuzzy after that, though. Doesn't it? Well, let me sum it up for you. I'm no brain child like you, but I graduated high school early due purely to an expensive education that allowed me to do so. Which allowed me to finish college early and then I bummed my way around Europe, working the occasional odd job. Until I was sought out by my old friend Lana Lang, whom I was briefly acquainted with in the summer of 2004 when she was attending an arts program in Paris on the dime of her future and now ex-husband Lex Luthor. Sound about right?"

"Flawless cover story," Chloe retorted flatly, "Though she never mentioned you, Christopher."

"I can't imagine she would have," Christopher mused allowed, leaving the computer behind and moving to face Chloe. "We were little more than classmates and she was so taken with Jason, well...you know how that turned out."

Chloe acknowledge with a nod. He was good. And he didn't seem slimy. She wished he did; it would make it easier not to believe him. He was being cute with her, but it seemed genuine; not even charming or flirty, just sincere and kind. That made her more suspicious.

"Well, Christopher, it was nice meeting you and all," Chloe told him with little genuineness, taking Christopher by the arm and guiding him towards the door, "but you really need to be going now."

Chloe opened the door and stood her grown.

"M-" he began, then paused and took a breath, "Chloe, this really isn't necessary. Ms. Lang hired me to do a job and I intend to do it."

Chloe obstinately shook her head in disagreement. "I don't know who hired you or what the job was, but it's not here and it's not today."

Christopher pursed his lips and crossed his arms, regarding her with frustration. He seemed to deliberate for a moment and then nodded.

"Fine," he acquiesced, retrieving his jacket. "I'll go."

Christopher walked past her and through the doorway without another word. She closed the door behind him, but felt resistance before it latched. She peaked through the gap and saw him his palm pressed against the door and his brown eyes peering back at her.

"I'll be back," he told her resolutely.

Chloe pushed the door shut and locked it. She lay back against it and exhaled.

What was that?

The possibility that this Christopher Hawke worked for Lex was very likely in her mind, but seemed too obvious even if it was a change of pace. Maybe it was this new Tess Mercer's doing.

Chloe reached for her phone to give Oliver a heads up about the unwelcomed guest, but then remembered he was still in the air. She dialed Lois instead. Even if she couldn't reveal all the juicy details, she could still vent and Lois might even break a story when all was said and done. Plus, Chloe was still jonesing for a java fix.

Straight to voicemail.

It was just as well. Chloe wasn't particularly keen on leaving Isis unattended with a squatter chomping at the bit. Lois would scale mountains for coffee, but she wasn't delivery. Chloe quickly dismissed the notion of calling Jimmy just for a latte. He was still mad and undoubtedly needed a few more hours to cool off before she went crawling on hands and knees with "I'm sorry's" and "I love you's."

Chloe's heart hurt when she thought of the wedge between them. It hurt even more as she thought of Clark. He would have been there in seconds with a piping hot cup of Joe and a righteous indignation about her visitor. She sighed at the thought and filled with worry again.

With renewed vigor and motivation, Chloe returned to Watchtower setup. She'd run a search on this Christopher Hawke and then get back down to business looking for Clark. As she settled into her seat, Chloe paused and looked at her phone. Her finger hovered over the button and then she hit "Call."

It rang once.

"Davis, hi. So, I was wondering...do you make house calls?"

A/N: thanks for reading. Reviews welcome.