Disclaimer: Smallville is not mine.

"Why are you here?"

"How long have you been coming around to see Chloe?"

"You haven't told her anything, have you?"

"What have you been up to?"

"You aren't stealing things are you?"

He has an awful lot of questions for someone who isn't big on answering them. I tried to let most of the implied insults slide. Mostly, I just kind of stood there and let him get the first rounds out. I mean the guy has to breathe sometime - maybe. I'm not actually sure about that. Anyway . . . I figured that he could let out a tirade (he had a few days while I was ducking him to build up some venting potential), and then he might be a little better at listening.

Turns out that listening - it's not one of his superpowers. He had some serious vocal eruptions going on. Although, he might have been repeating himself before he wound down (I wasn't paying attention after the third time he mentioned something about Chloe and distance).

I totally took a snack break somewhere in the middle. I came back with pizza, and he didn't even notice until I offered him the last slice. It's got to be tunnel vision. Really, that explains a bunch of things that have never made sense to me before. The guy can apparently only have one focused thought process at a time. I think they have help for that obsessive disorder stuff. I might slip by and have a word with Mama Kent later - see if it's something she's considered.

Eventually, I decided to break in because you shouldn't lecture me about how it's immature or whatever it was that he said to make a snack run when someone is talking. It's always appropriate to make a snack run. A lack of fuel is a lack of speed, and you never know when someone is going to need help. (The hero thing has really been growing on me.)

"Do you trust me to keep your secret?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me to keep your secret?"

"I heard you the first time."

He shouldn't ask stupid questions if he heard me the first time - that's stalling. I don't have time to stand around waiting while people are stalling.

"It's not that I think that you're going to tell Chloe about me," he started. I didn't have time to listen to him start a whole new lecture track either. I have attention issues. I own that.

"How many people have noticed something is up with you, man?" I jumped in and then started talking fast to try to head him off; he may not be as quick as me, but he's quick enough to keep up with that. "Lots right? Some of them end up knowing for sure. Most of them are just acquaintances. Like me. I like to think we had a little bit of a compadre thing happening, but I know the score. You didn't know me long. Things just kind of happened. But you don't think I'm going to blab. So, me knowing all works out. But it might not have. You took a chance. Decided I was worth giving a shot."

"Bart . . .," I wasn't having any of that. I admire the guy; I do, but there needed to be a serious reality check on the situation.

"So, you think Chloe is untrustworthy?"

"Chloe is my best friend."

"That doesn't mean you trust her. Could just be a lack of options. You aren't exactly a social butterfly, if ya get what I'm saying."

"Look, all I'm saying . . .."

"All I'm saying is that Chloe isn't blind."

"What does that . . .," dude just can't seem to stop himself from interrupting.

"She's not unobservant. She's not clueless. She's pretty much the most loyal person that I know. I realize that I'm not exactly drowning in a sea of friendships myself, but I don't get the two of you and this pretense you keep going. Now that you know that I'm around, I don't want to have to be all tip toe around stuff when there is no need for tip toeing. Oh, and I'm still hacked off about the lack of swooshing in to help with the whole vampire thing."

"Vampire thing? Wait. You were around the infected sorority girls?"

"How did you think Chloe got out of there? They wrote her a nice thank you note for her contribution and called her an ambulance?"

"I didn't . . .," he tried.

"Whatever, man. The point is . . .."

"Bart!" And we were back to the interrupting. "Exactly how long have you been visiting Chloe?"

I offered him one of my best, nonchalant shoulder shrugs. "Prom," I told him.

"Whose prom?" Really, Clark? Try to keep up with the flow of the conversation.

"Chloe's. Yours. Smallville High's."

"You were not at prom. I would have seen you."

"You were a little distracted at the time. You're a little distracted a lot of the time. I blame the shiny objects - the dark-haired ones." I could see that he was about to protest again, so I made a quick little trip to make my point for me. I held the picture out for him to look at, but I wasn't going to let him hold it. That's a perfectly captured representation of a treasured memory right there; it remains in my hands if someone else wants a peek. Unless it is Chloe - she can hold and stare longingly at the photographic evidence of one of our moments all she likes.

"That's you and Chloe."

"Right you are, Captain Obvious."

"Does she know about you?" He demanded.

"Know what?" I responded. He was looking a little weird. There was a little bit of accusation and a little bit of anger and a little bit of something that looked like longing all mixed up in that gaze. "That I'm a really good dancer? That I'm fond of a good taco? That I totally rock a red hoodie?"

"You know what I mean."

"Chloe knows all there is to know," I could see the next question was going to be an accusation, so I answered it before he could make it. "I don't tell her your secrets," I told him, but I was tired of this. I went ahead and said the words that I knew were likely to set him off all over again. "She doesn't tell me yours either."

Yeah, that went over about as well as you might expect. There was a little bit of voice raising. There was a little bit of denial. There was a little bit of muttering that I couldn't make out. There was a lot of pacing - lots and lots of pacing. I'm not really sure what goes on in that head of his; I probably don't want to know.

I figured he was headed for Chloe when he took off without warning. It's kind of a thing with him. (It's a wonder a three state region doesn't know his secret when he keeps doing things like that.) I got to her first - just saying. It's because I'm faster, and I totally already knew where she was. He kind of honed in on her like he had some sort of a beacon though - it was kind of weird (and, really, if I consider something weird, you've got to know something ain't normal).

I got disappointed eyes from my Chloe when she figured out what it was that Clark had starting going on about. I'm not a fan, but it'll totally be worth it when everything gets to stop being all secrets that aren't really secret-y. I'm not invited to the big everybody is coming clean interlude they have going. They both told me to leave - can you believe that?

I mean it's not like I don't know what they both know. What's with all the Bart we need to talk, in private, without you here junk?

What can you do?

Well, I don't know about you, but all this bringing friends together and opening lines of communication stuff has made me hungry. I know some seriously unbelievable taco stands, and I've got some time to kill. I can hit up three or four places for appetizers and be back in time to convince Chloe that a random muffin hiding in a bag on the side of your desk does not lunch make. Yeah, girl so does that. It's a good thing that she's got me around.

And I'm not going anywhere - except maybe for a quick run when Chloe gets to the part of the story where we are maybe, sort of doing a little interfering with the smooth running of the operations of bad guys. Something tells me Clark isn't going to be a fan.

He'll get over it. Besides, his disappointed look isn't nearly as powerful as Chloe's.