Smallville AU

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"I'm the guy thats gonna toss you around the room some more if you decide to keep going mad cow on my ass." I replied, my voice low and dangerous. "And your friend has good advice. My name is Kyle Matthews and I just want to work on this story I am writing for the torch. Getting expelled for fighting is not on my list today, but if I have to I'll pencil you in."

I stood up, seeking calm. My eyes returned to normal and the gloom in the office subsided as my heart rate went down.

"Now mind introducing yourself, or do you wanna go caveman some more?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Morning, continued.

"I'm the guy thats gonna toss you around the room some more if you decide to keep going mad cow on my ass." I replied, my voice low and dangerous. "And your friend has good advice. My name is Kyle Matthews and I just want to work on this story I am writing for the torch. Getting expelled for fighting is not on my list today, but if I have to I'll pencil you in."

I stood up, seeking calm. My eyes returned to normal and the gloom in the office subsided as my heart rate went down.

"Now mind introducing yourself, or do you wanna go caveman some more?"

John wanted very much to press the issue.

To box this creep around the ears, if for no other reason than for kicking up all that psionic noise pollution...

...to find out what kind of planet he came from, where it was okay to sing The Necronomicon ex Mortis in a voice like Trent Reznor...

...the howling of macrophages at the disturbing of ancient royal graves...

But now, now, now he heard the girls coming, heard the frustration and trepidation on their breath.

He felt half-blind without his telepathy. More than half.

But he was pretty sure this was Rose and Chloe.

"We'll talk," he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket, nodded slowly, unconsciously echoing a statement Chloe had made earlier that morning, "later. (Keep that pencil handy.)"

He smiled a grim little smile. "'Till then, you can call me John Jones, staff reporter. Or, if you'd prefer my caveman name, you can call me Piltdown Man."

"Eoanthropus dawsoni?" Chloe arched an eyebrow as she stepped into the office doorway, Rose peering over her shoulder. "John, Piltdown Man was a hoax."

"Yeah?" John grunted, under his breath. "Well, he's not the only one."

"I see you've met Kyle, at least," Chloe paused, eyes flickering between the two men, almost able to visualise the testosterone surges.

"I leave for a week and you go and change the whole pecking order," John chuckled ruefully.

"'All the strangers came today,'" Rose quoted softly. "'And it looks as though they’re here to stay.'"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"We'll talk."

I had been getting that too damn often lately. Bekka, Kim, Chloe & now this guy. I was about done with "we'll talk"!

"How about we talk now John. I promised the girls coffee last night and forgot to take their order, so I still need to do a beverage run. Come along with me and I'll add you in, and we can talk all the way there and back."

I paused a second, then grinned. "Or we can just drop our pants right here and now and compare sizes, but I really don't want to do that. You see, the only clean boxers I had this morning are pink with little flying hearts, and if Chloe saw those I just know she would laugh. Now you know as well as I do that a pretty woman laughing at you when you drop your pants causes seven years of celibacy, a curse worse than death!! so please, choose option 'A' and save me from a fate worse than death."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Morning, continued.

I'm not wearing boxers. Right now.

Maybe if someone pantsed me I'd shapeshift a pair rather than hit everyone with a moon of Mars. (No design. Prolly just plain blue.)

As for what hides in those shorts...

Mine's adjustable. Take any girl's favourite size, that's how big mine is.

Beat that, jackass.

(Also, I can do tentacles. Like Ray Harryhausen tentacles.)

When I drop trou, girls don't laugh. They gape.

He scrutinized his counterpart for a long, long moment.

The girls seemed to be holding their breath. He wondered what they were thinking.

John had to give this Kyle guy credit, though, whatever he was. He knew how to work a crowd, and he knew how to defuse tension, at least on the surface.

He smirked a faint little bad-boy smirk and shook his head at the girls.

"Almond mocha, extra whip?" he wondered at Chloe.

"And an extra espresso shot today," Chloe confirmed. "Maybe an energy shot and an espresso shot, not a lot of shut-eye last night."

"Gottit," he nodded, and pointed at Rose with one eye squinty. "Green iced tea, mixed with lemonade."

Rose nodded quickly. "Yuh-yes, please. (And thank you.)"

John nodded firmly, fixing Kyle with a look that plainly asked "impressed yet?" before gesturing grandly to the door.

"All right, then, sooner we get our asses in gear, have our little chat," he declared, "th'sooner we can get back here and get some real work done."

Chloe and Rose moved out of the door and into the office, neither of them looking at all pleased with the alpha-male thing that seemed to be happening. Rose looked almost pained...

The girls looked at each other and Chloe shook her head with a modicum of disdain.

But John walked through that door with his hands in his pockets and his head held high. "I'll have one of those milkshakey slurpaccino things, since you offered so kindly. Cookies-and-creme."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"Gotcha. One milkshaky-thing and the girls drinks coming up."

I stopped, then fished around in my backpack and pulled out a jump drive. I then walked over to Chloe (who looked like she desperately needed some sleep).

"Here is a rough draft of my story for The Torch. It's mostly outlines and notes, but I think I got enough there for you to have a look and tell me if I am on track. I've never written a story for a paper before. It's the file labeled 'NCIWHY'."

I dropped the drive off in Chloe's hand and then headed for the door. "OK Captain Caveman, your dime there and back. Lets go." I said to the departed teenager.

I then stepped through the door after John.
*lets do this.*

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Morning, continued.

Chloe arched an eyebrow, glancing down at the jump drive. Already he's doing articles? Not bad for his first day on the job.

I guess someone else didn't get any more sleep after we parted ways...

Maybe he made better use of his time than I did.

She sat down at the computer John had been using. It was already powered up, after all...

John, too? Op-Ed piece... guess he was making up for lost time.

Gah, John, you always bury the lead...

Chloe jacked the drive in to the USB port on the keyboard. "Okay, let's have a look-see."

Rose sort of. Hovered.

Chloe glanced up at her.

"What, uh," Rose winced, "what should I be doing?"

Chloe stared at her for a moment.

They both kind of winced awkwardly.

Chloe squinted at Rose. "What do you like besides music?"

"Botany," Rose supplied instantly. "I grok botany."

"Right," Chloe nodded firmly. "Greg's been one of our AWOLs, we don't have a science column for this week, write me something botanical."

"Got it," Rose nodded, and threw herself into a desk chair. While she was waiting for her desktop to boot up, however, she shot Chloe a sly glance. "So how is it? Is he as eloquent as he is--"

Chloe's expression was completely neutral. "Let's just say he's a better speller than my favourite cousin."

********​

John walked down the hallway, slowing down to permit Kyle to catch up.

Walking side-by-side was more conducive to conversation, after all.

"'Fraid I'm no good for the ride over," John admitted. "My old man dropped me off way early, so unless you want me to jack the janitor's truck, you're S.O.L. You got transport?"

As Kyle approached him, however, John's voice dropped, low as could be, furtively glancing around with powerful eyes to make sure no-one was near enough to hear...

"I don't get you, man," he shook his head. "You come in broadcasting Beelzebub's Greatest Hits and Golden Oldies at the top of your brainpan, and you don't expect me to flip out? I mean, I'm the last person to judge a man for being different, but shit. What's that thing people wave when they surrender? The white flag... that's like the exact fucking opposite of a white flag. That's the shoot-on-sight flag. First topic of conversation, right there."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"I don't get you, man," he shook his head. "You come in broadcasting Beelzebub's Greatest Hits and Golden Oldies at the top of your brainpan, and you don't expect me to flip out? I mean, I'm the last person to judge a man for being different, but shit. What's that thing people wave when they surrender? The white flag... that's like the exact fucking opposite of a white flag. That's the shoot-on-sight flag. First topic of conversation, right there."

"One, I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. You jumped me! I just asked where I could set my stuff down. Two, you part chameleon or something? I swear you were looking a little lucky charms when you were in my face, but your normal now. And last but not least," I said opening the doors and fishing out my keys, "What kind of a ride offer would it be if I was planning on using the bus? It's the blue Accord over there."

I popped the locks and got in, cranking the car up and muting the music (while I like Nickleback, it is not conductive to a conversation.) Once John got in and belted up I pulled us out and headed down the street.

"OK John, what the hell do mean by 'broadcast'? I didn't even have my MP-3 player on and my playlist doesn't contain Beleza-whatever's greatest hits. Talk."

 

[ChasNicollette]

John. Tuesday. Morning, continued.

"One, I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. You jumped me! I just asked where I could set my stuff down. Two, you part chameleon or something? I swear you were looking a little lucky charms when you were in my face, but your normal now. And last but not least," I said opening the doors and fishing out my keys, "What kind of a ride offer would it be if I was planning on using the bus? It's the blue Accord over there."

John made for the Honda, quietly stewing. He hadn't even realised that he'd started to revert to his natural form... "lucky charms" had to mean green, he'd looked green, shit.

Still. Full disclosure, right? He expected this dude to spill his super-beans, that hadda be a two-way street. So, give a little, take a little.

"One thing at a time," John harrumphed. "I ain't asked yet about your 'purple horseshoe' stare or the Plato's Cave thing you did with the shadows on the wall. But I don't think there's a being on this planet what wouldn't turn funny colours hearing what you were cranking out."

I popped the locks and got in, cranking the car up and muting the music (while I like Nickleback, it is not conductive to a conversation.) Once John got in and belted up I pulled us out and headed down the street.

John got in all right, but didn't belt up immediately. He never belted up with Clark...

He could be invulnerable or intangible, why the Hell would he ever need a seatbelt? ...but then again, he didn't need telepathy to get that Kyle was waiting on buckle-age before he hit the road, so with a disdainful grunt John snapped the strap into place.

"OK John, what the hell do mean by 'broadcast'? I didn't even have my MP-3 player on and my playlist doesn't contain Beleza-whatever's greatest hits. Talk."

John stared at him, utterly, utterly incredulous.

He rubbed his face with his palm. "You really don't know, do you? How can you not know that?"

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he jutted his rounded chin and shook his head slowly, slowly.

"Let's just say," John enunciated, "that I'm a little bit of a mind-reader. Like the beginning of that movie, Ghostbusters, Bill Murray's making people guess the cards? I can do that."

He pointed at Kyle's head, a firmly extended index finger. "And what I heard coming out of your head sounded more like the shit in Sigourney Weaver's fridge. 'Generally you don't see that kind of behavior in major appliance?' Generally, dude, you don't see that kind of behavior in human cerebrum."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"OK, let me get this straight, your saying you read minds, and mine sounds like something Stephen King had a nightmare about? Seriously? You sure someone didn't spike your cherrioes?"
I passed a old woman doing twenty in a forty, then pulled up a minute later at the coffee shop.

"Listen, it's been a long night, looks like a longer day, and I think we got off on the wrong foot. Lets just start over, grab the girls their coffee and tea, and get back to school. I have a calc quiz that has me way more worried than telepaths or purple horseshoes or other things. So lets just drop the freaky shit and let me buy you breakfast, then we can get to work."

Fuck Kyle, what if the guy could read minds? Yours and quite a few other lives depended on you staying dead a few more months. If the world knew Kyle Greystone was alive, then HE would know, and that would be bad!
Just play it cool for now.

I got out and went to the door, holding it open for John.

 

[ChasNicollette]

John. Tuesday. Morning, continued.

"OK, let me get this straight, your saying you read minds, and mine sounds like something Stephen King had a nightmare about? Seriously? You sure someone didn't spike your cherrioes?"

"I don't eat Cheerios," John chuffed. "Or Lucky Charms. (You got a cereal obsession?) And Stephen King's nightmares were Teletubbies compared to this. This was Giger multiplied by Lovecraft, add a little-- what'shisnamelivesintown --Constantine, mix thoroughly. Paradise fucking Lost, seriously."

"Listen, it's been a long night, looks like a longer day, and I think we got off on the wrong foot. Lets just start over, grab the girls their coffee and tea, and get back to school. I have a calc quiz that has me way more worried than telepaths or purple horseshoes or other things. So lets just drop the freaky shit and let me buy you breakfast, then we can get to work."

"Hnph," John grunted, "figures. We must have the same calc class. Dun need breakfast. Cookies-and-creme shake thingy, I'm good with that."

I got out and went to the door, holding it open for John.

John paused in the doorway, one hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"Look," he shook his head, his voice nearly inaudibly quiet. "Take it from someone who knows. The 'freaky shit' don't go away when you ain't looking at it. I got you pretty well locked out right now... but I can still feel those screams and voices crawling in my skin like sense-memory. You ever wanna come clean, I'm like the second-best shoulder you could ever get weepy on. Maybe third best."

He shrugged, and put his hands in his pockets. "You don't wanna talk about it right now? I'm copasetic. But it don't go away just 'cause you ain't lookin' at it."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"I appreciate the offer, but I do have my secrets, and I have damn good reasons for keeping them mine. I may even share them with you someday, but not five minutes after meeting you, and especially not after re-enacting a Jet Li movie. Now onward! The ladies, they may perish from lack of sustinence, and Chloe has just a little too much blood in her caffene right now. We must make haste, forsooth, with the frosty and hot beverages!"

I let John order the drinks, then swiped my card and we got out of there. First bell was in ten minutes and I just knew my close parking place was gone.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Morning, continued.

Rose was elbow-deep in an article on the bristlecone pine.

Chloe, meanwhile, had read through Kyle's article several times and had developed something of a critique for the man. It wasn't bad work, showed a lot of passion, the only thing he would have to keep in mind were the realistic restrictions of their school-paper format. Yes, Chloe wanted The Torch and its contributors to hew to the same standards as a full-on newspaper like The Daily Planet, but still...

Having sorted that out, Chloe turned her attention to the SDHC card she'd retrieved from her bedside table. Weird, though... this format, this capacity, this version of an SDHC card, she'd thought that this sort of thing had only just barely come out in Japan, over the last few weeks. She didn't know of any American retailers carrying this version of things just yet.

Where would Jimmy have gotten this? I know he digs photography but that's just ridiculous...

"Okay, Henry James Olsen," she muttered as she slipped the card into a USB card-reader, "let's see what your stalking has gotten me."

The pictures uploaded. She blinked.

Friday's game. She recognised the scoreboard, the player uniforms of both teams, even saw The Torch's own sports guy in one of the shots.

She grinned a giddy little grin. "Oh, no way."

And the megapixels on this camera had been huge, if the load times on the individual pictures were any indication. She could easily have these shots blown up, practically count the pores of the people in the crowd.

But she still needed comparison shots. She could look at these pictures on the monitor for now... but she definitely needed to match them up to the pictures the sports guy had taken on Friday...

She sat up a bit, peered over at Rose. "Hey, Rosy?"

Rose glanced up, blinking. "Almost done."

Chloe fished for a moment, held up her keys, tossed them to Rose, who caught them two-handed just in front of the Within Temptation logo on her t-shirt. "I need you to do me a favour."

Bewildered, Rose stared at the keys in her hand. Yes, technically, she could drive...

"There's a bunch of photos at the Wal-Mart in Granville," she mused, "one of the last places in the area that does one-hour film development. Sports guy took 'em in, they're probably under his name. I need them for comparison purposes, part of the Stephanie Brown affair..."

"Right!" Rose nodded, exuberant and triumphant and running out the door...

Chloe stared. Blinked. Her voice almost inaudible: "I thought, you know, you could wait 'till lunch? They're probably not even open yet..."

But Rose was long gone. Girl could move when she wanted to.

Chloe ran her tongue over her teeth. "Strange Little Girl."

********​

"I can wrap my head around the whole Secret Identity thing," John nodded slowly, the tray of drinks in his lap. "But the way I see it, I got plenty secrets of my own to keep, keepin' a few more for you won't tip the scales overmuch. Just sayin'."

He smirked faintly. "As for th' Jet Li thing... you an' I ever tussle again, and you try that crazy judo voodoo you done did? I'll show you a move or two you don't even have names for."

As they trundled up to Senior Parking, John saw Clark's truck, saw that the spot that Kyle's Honda had occupied taken up by some showoff's Audi, but then...

...a red-orange Beetle drove past them on its way out, freeing up a spot.

John didn't need heightened senses to see that this was Rose McCrimmon.

"Huh. Wonder where she's goin'..."

********​

There was another folder or two on the SDHC card.

Curious, Chloe clicked...

And her jaw dropped.

"Lana?"

...and so it was, shots taken through the windows of her house...

Sometimes not wearing not much of anything. Sometimes not wearing anything at all...

Chloe's face was red and her fingers were trembling and her mind was not not not on the job...

Elegance and symmetry and curves and softness and juuuust enough juuuust the right amount of hardness, slender and strong and oh, so very appealing, whispers in her ear...

She was beautiful.

Hurriedly, Chloe closed the folder.

And with forehead a little bit beading with sweat, she opened the next one.

...Clark.

Not quite so compromising as the Lana pictures, but still... jawdropping...

...raw power in human form, blue eyes that could stop traffic just by squinting, the man that had saved her bacon so many times her knight in plaid flannel armour...

He was beautiful.

Again, trembling, she clicked shut this folder, too, tried to get her breath back.

I just got this card last night. Just when it was dawning on me... that I might... like the both of them. How could... how could... how could anyone have known that I wanted to see this sort of thing so very badly?

I didn't even know.

Precognition and clairsentience?

That's just.

Couldn't've been Jimmy. Couldn't've been.

I let that man put himself inside me and he never called me again, is that the sort of behaviour of a man that could read the future and/or psychometric energies?

But Jimmy had pictures too...

(Doesn't make any sense.)

She lunged for the laptop bag and the folder contained within.

Snapped it open and delved into the photos.

...strip club. Seedy seamy steamy.

Huh. Yeah. Completely different... there's no way the megapixels on this are as high as the ones on the card, why would he use a different camera than one so good?

Little bit of a blur thing happening, composition seemed haphazard at best... even a photographer as good as Jimmy succumbed to hormones, it seemed, when there were topless beauties about.

...Chloe smirked faintly, perhaps cottoning to the why of Jimmy giving her these. They looked like blackmail photos.

...that was definitely definitely the very very married Senator Burke.

And in his lap was a brunette fallen angel that looked very much like.

Oh. My. Fucking. God?

...Lana. Again.

She wasn't so much lap-dancing him as dry-humping him and insanely, Chloe flared with a modicum of jealousy...

Lana was beautiful. Chloe bit the inside of her cheek and just sort of... gazed at her...

Looks a little different in these photos. Trimmer, slimmer?

More sculpted? Yeah, there was a little more curve to her curvaceousness in the SD shots, here she's... Olympian.

God, girl, I hope you're not yo-yo dieting.

Not that your diet should be foremost on my concerns list given that you're stripping at a strip-club and you're gyrating on politicians...

(Lucky goddamned politicians.)

...but then the doorknob to the office door turned and Chloe slid the pictures into the envelope and hurriedly, hurriedly, ejected the SD card, threw this in the envelope with the pictures and threw the whole thing back in her laptop bag...

She moved insanely fast. She didn't even know she could move that fast. But desperation had been known to defy people's limits...

Kyle was holding the door open and regarding John dubiously, as if not quite sure what to make of something John had just said, or maybe disbelieving it entirely, but at least he was kind enough to let John through with the drink-carrier.

"Hey," John arched his eyebrows. "We lost Rosy?"

"Running an errand," Chloe replied, managing to not sound entirely breathless. "She'll be back later, I hope."

Dusting herself off a bit, as if trying to discard the emotions of moments previous by wiping at her blue t-shirt and darker blue jeans, Chloe rose to her feet.

"You two," she declared: "Good work, both. John, your Op-Ed piece is incisive without being overly divisive, though I want you to at least try and talk to a Luthor spokesman regarding their position on Lex's reward. Maybe work in something about his offer for counseling to students, I read about this on a bulletin board on the way walking in. Also, stop burying your lead, that's elementary stuff."

John handed her the coffee, laughing softly, ruefully. "Old habits die way hard; I always did have trouble putting stuff out in the open."

Chloe took the lid off of the almond mocha and, apparently completely oblivious to any innuendo this might create, caught a dollop of the whipped cream on her pinky fingertip and licked the finger clean. Replacing the lid, she sipped gingerly at the coffee.

"Yeah," Chloe nodded. "Just work on that for me."

She then turned to Kyle. "Okay. Newbie. Extraordinary work, considering you claim to not have any experience writing newspaper stuff before. Your lead isn't buried, and while your typography isn't flawless, you're certainly better at taking advantage of spellcheck than some people I could mention. My main trouble is, and I hate to hate to say this to anyone under my editor thumb, but your story's actually way too long. I need you to trim it down some. Shakespeare claimed that 'brevity is the soul of wit,' I need a little brevity from you. Your research is exhaustive, but I'm not sure you need to cite six different court cases to support your work.

"As it stands now," she smiled faintly, "I'd have to publish a supplemental section for your article alone, or print the story with a font so tiny you'd need a magnifying glass. Don't forget, we still have to fit the cafeteria menu and the chess club update into the next issue. I'd say, keep the case where the case got thrown out when the defendant confessed but there was no DNA evidence, that one's a hammerblow, pick two other cases: total of three, not six."

Chloe pursed her lips, sipped the coffee again, handed Kyle back his jump drive. "I've downloaded onto your drive an RTF file on our formatting standards, column-width and margins and that sort of thing. Also, files turned in should be saved in a similar style, Rich Text Format, that way we won't have so many issues... Microsoft Works and Microsoft Word and Wordpad and Mac and Ubuntu... RTF's pretty universal."

She took a deep breath, looked at the two handsome guys.

For some reason, some odd reason, she thought they looked pretty good standing next to each other. Like brothers...

What a strange thought. Not like they look anything alike.

"Well," she mused, "any questions, either of you?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

I can wrap my head around the whole Secret Identity thing," John nodded slowly, the tray of drinks in his lap. "But the way I see it, I got plenty secrets of my own to keep, keepin' a few more for you won't tip the scales overmuch. Just sayin'."

He smirked faintly. "As for th' Jet Li thing... you an' I ever tussle again, and you try that crazy judo voodoo you done did? I'll show you a move or two you don't even have names for."


I grinned myself. "How about I just keep my secrets mine a bit longer. Wouldn't want to loose my mysterious image after all. And the next time we tussle, lets do it with Halo 3. At least there I am used to getting beat." *damn A.I.*


We made the parking lot just before first bell. I pulled up as a red beetle went out (was that Rose?), parked and headed in. I opened the door so John could get the drinks in and saw Chloe putting away her laptop, her face flushed.

Wonder whats going through her mind?

She grabbed her drink from John and with a total disregard of what the reaction of seeing her licking cream off her finger (damn tight pants, this was getting uncomfortable!) got down to running her paper. She addressed John first, then it was my turn.

"Okay. Newbie. Extraordinary work, considering you claim to not have any experience writing newspaper stuff before. Your lead isn't buried, and while your typography isn't flawless, you're certainly better at taking advantage of spellcheck than some people I could mention. My main trouble is, and I hate to hate to say this to anyone under my editor thumb, but your story's actually way too long. I need you to trim it down some. Shakespeare claimed that 'brevity is the soul of wit,' I need a little brevity from you. Your research is exhaustive, but I'm not sure you need to cite six different court cases to support your work.

"As it stands now," she smiled faintly, "I'd have to publish a supplemental section for your article alone, or print the story with a font so tiny you'd need a magnifying glass. Don't forget, we still have to fit the cafeteria menu and the chess club update into the next issue. I'd say, keep the case where the case got thrown out when the defendant confessed but there was no DNA evidence, that one's a hammerblow, pick two other cases: total of three, not six."

Chloe pursed her lips, sipped the coffee again, handed me back my jump drive. "I've downloaded onto your drive an RTF file on our formatting standards, column-width and margins and that sort of thing. Also, files turned in should be saved in a similar style, Rich Text Format, that way we won't have so many issues... Microsoft Works and Microsoft Word and Wordpad and Mac and Ubuntu... RTF's pretty universal."


"Nope, no questions." The bell rung behind me as students began flocking to there respective classes. "I'll get to it and thanks for the critique. Like I said, I'm new at this. Guess I went into 'essay' mode on the paper." I said with a grin.

I dug my laptop out of the bag and stopped a second. When she was standing next to me I swear I smelled something that I could only say was arousal.

Game face Kyle. You have only known this girl for a hour or so, and she likes ferreting out secrets. Last thing you need is for her to learn your the last surviving male Greystone, and a metahuman to boot.

I grabbed a desk, opened up my laptop and put my thumb on the fingerprint reader, powering up my laptop. In a few seconds it was up and running (6 terabyte solid state drives, no moving parts. I loved this laptop!!) I put the jump drive in and transfered the data, as I opened up the network tool, scrolled down until I found the school paper's network. The system automatically linked up (passwords weren't much of a delay) and I dug my bluetooth earbuds out of my pocket and put them in, synched up, then started my music player as I began editing down my article.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Lunchtime.

Usually, Chloe worked through lunch. Got a Nutri-Grain or something from the vending machine by the school store, maybe a chimichanga.

But this time, this time, she decided to give herself a break.

Because a friend of hers had had a rough week.

"Yeah," John mumbled. "Left in sort of a hurry after that. Text came in right in the middle of Home Ec."

"...oh, dear God," Chloe shook her head. "Seriously? No-one got out?"

John laughed a little bit bitterly. "Well. If anyone had gotten out of that, I wouldn't exactly call them a 'survivor.'"

Chloe held up her tray, and the lunch lady scowled uninvitingly as mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans and something greyish resembling roast beef splattered onto that tray.

Chloe tried not to make a face. She glanced over her shoulder at John, whose tray was receiving similar treatment. John did make a face.

"Does anyone know what started the fire?" Chloe wondered, investigative curiosity as ever warring with her compassion.

John shrugged. "We're pretty sure it was my crazy uncle Mal. Totally batshit. Dunno if it was on purpose, or what."

Chloe's face was tied in knots, oh, this was a terrible thing. "But no-one you were really close to."

"Three of 'em," John confessed, "I liked quite a lot. But mostly otherwise, you know, cousins thrice removed, all that. Hard to feel anything at all about it at this point. Took us most of the week to get the affairs in order, we'll still probably be hearing from lawyers, it's just a fucking wasteland out there."

They walked with their trays to a relatively underpopulated table, at which Rose was already sitting, reading a "Warrior Angel" comic, and alternating between eating an apple and making rather loud slrrrrrcking noises with what was left of her green tea. The ice had long melted by now, but still she was trying to get the last bit of flavour out of it.

(Kyle was there. He had his fancy laptop out-- Chloe, as yet, had no idea how fancy --and seemed right on the verge of finishing his story...)

Chloe stopped and turned around, her back to Kyle and Rose taking a long slow look around the cafeteria. Just looking at everyone's faces.

"You get those pictures okay?" John wondered as he sat...

Rose nodded cheerfully. "Yeah. I hadda get Sports Guy on his cellphone before they'd give me his pics; it was a good thing he was smoking a cigarette under the bleachers, he never would've answered his phone in class. Chloe said we're going to spread them out all over The Torch office floor, she called it 'pulling a William S. Burroughs,' sort through the images that way."

Chloe frowned softly, searching the crowd once more before half-glancing over her shoulder at her friends old and new: "Has anyone seen, uh, Clark or Lana? I was sort of hoping to, uh..."

...she trailed off, though didn't finish her sentence.

Both John and Rose stared at the back of her, quite quite blankly.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

Thank God I don't need to eat. The stuff I had seen being eaten in here would scare a starving hog. So i picked at a salad and worked on my story. I had it almost done, just couldn't seem to wrap it up.

Rose had sat down by me a few minutes ago. We traded pleasantries, but she was pretty soon off in her won world, devouring a apple and getting the last bit of her tea through a straw. She looked, well, cute.

Chloe showed up with John pretty soon after Rose sat down. Looked damn good in those jeans and tight T shirt too. I nodded my head to John and motioned Chloe over with my hand.

"Chloe, mind giving me a hand on this? I have rewritten my close three times now, but each time it just doesn't look right to me. Can you give it a look with a fresh set of eyes and tell me what you think of this version? I'll keep a eye out for Clark (saw his picture while doing research on the Torch), but I don't know what Lana looks like."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Lunchtime, continued.

"Chloe, mind giving me a hand on this? I have rewritten my close three times now, but each time it just doesn't look right to me. Can you give it a look with a fresh set of eyes and tell me what you think of this version? I'll keep a eye out for Clark (saw his picture while doing research on the Torch), but I don't know what Lana looks like."

John grinned a little bit, poking at a green bean with a fork. "You'll know Lana when you see her. Everyone always does."

Rose chuckled her agreement. "'Hello, I love you,'" she quoted cheerfully. "'Won't you tell me your name?'"

Stirred from her reverie, Chloe blushed a little bit faintly as she set her tray down and rounded the table to slide into the seat beside Kyle. "(The funny thing is, they're not exaggerating.) Now, let's have a look at this thing..."

Chloe leaned in a little bit. Maybe it hadn't occurred to her that she could just turn the laptop to face her, angle it, but instead of doing this she sort of leaned closer to Kyle and peered intently at the screen.

"Hmm," she tutted softly. "Yeah, no, that's a little clunky. The trouble with summarising your own work like that is the aggravating inclination to turn a regular news piece into an op-ed work, right at the end, because of a perfectly human tendency to throw your own two cents in. But in pure news, gotta stay objective, can't let that sneak in there. What a lot of papers do is a raw summary, second-to-last paragraph, just the facts, and then have a quote from one of the interviewees be the final wrap-up. New York Times does that a lot, and The Planet."

She leaned back a bit, tucked a forelock behind her ear, looked pensive.

"For that," she mused, "I'd take that quote about micro-fibres you cut out earlier on and put that back in right on the end. That was a pretty good summation of the topic, as I saw it."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"Smart, Talented and beautiful. Thanks. I just couldn't get that last part right. Started channeling Alan there at the end and just couldn't pull out of the dive."

Chloe was giving me a look, and I realized I had used Alan's name instead of Dad. OK, time to do some damage control.

"Alan is my foster-dad. I got placed with him and Kim last year, and they have been real good to me. Still can't call him dad though. Just doesn't feel right. Anyway, enough about my past, tell me about Clark and Lana."

 

[Lunaramblings]

Lex Luthor was nothing if not determined. He spent the remainder of the early morning flying in the best criminologists and profilers money could buy. He turned his private office into a think tank. And had personally read every bit of information his source in the Justice Department had been able to forward him.

Lex looked at the clock. The school would be ending soon. The real genius would be arriving. He didn't know how she did it. Didn't quite understand it. But Chloe Sullivan was special. Her mind was sharper and more acute than anyone's he had ever met. And she was analytical. Lex flicked open his phone and texted to his assistant. He wanted food, drink and a private meeting set up for the group in the library. Lex compiled his notes and copies of the case files for the trio. This was going to end. And it was going to end soon.

"Well, I didn't realise this was Scotland Yard... Son." Lionel leaned on the door to Lex's office and smiled. A smile like a shark might show it's dinner. "Never let it be said I am an uncaring man, but Lex, what do you hope to achieve? What do you think you can do that the FBI cannot?"

"Well... Father... As you well know our Justice System is really a misnomer. If every guilty man were serving the sentence he deserved... well... you get my meaning. I plan on bringing Justice to these people. The things this mad man has done... someone needs to step up and fix it. And as I see it... Dad we more than have the means."

"And what happens when you become a target? Hmm? What if this sadist turns his attention to you rather then these poor unfortunate souls? What then?"

"Then I make the sacrifice I need to make. I, unlike some people, am not a coward. Now... If you will excuse me, I have matter's to attend to. I trust you can find the door." Lex smiles, one not entirely unlike that of his father's.

Lionel nods and steps out of the way. "So be it son, But remember what happens to those that play with fire. Don't cry to me when you get burnt."

Lex says nothing as he walks past his father. Instead he stays focused. There is work to be done. And Lex will not be deterred.

 

[LuckyVic]

Clark Kent: Tuesday Lunch Time

Clark had put his bag into his locker and made his way to the cafiteria. He grabbed himself a tray and then 3 cartons of milk. Then as he made his way down the line he took some grilled chicken, some rice, some carotts, and a slice of chocolate cake.

When he was done paying for his lunch he looked around for a place to sit and saw Chloe, surrounded at one of the larger tables. Some he knew, but guy he was sure he didn't know. So he walked over towards her. "Hey Chloe how's your day so far?"

 

[Varshanka]

Lana arrives in the cafeteria

The cheerleader squad exploded into the cafeteria, their bodies a mass of twisting spiraling shapes and forms. With a yell they stopped, and parted. Two of the guys grabbed chairs and held them front to front, but about a foot apart.

Down the hall a pair of feet could be heard, slowly at first, but very quickly they were running. Softly, as if the runner was small or light. Maybe even both.

And then palms hitting the floor, the hard smack of skin on waxed wood. Again and again. Faster and faster. But were the squad had exploded, Lana was like….

a supernovae in dance.

Cartwheels that barely touched the ground. Front Aerials that took her above the crowd. A leaping twisting rolling form that seemed to defy gravity. To float. To drift, before crashing back to earth. Toes landing on the backs of the chairs.

Her legs parted in a split, the chairs arching backward. Lifting her arms high in a twin fists she screamed at the top of her lungs..

SMALLVILLE!!!!

And the rest of the squads screamed CROWS!!! A breath later .

The two chairs rocked back onto their feet as Lana stood up, her tight legs pulling them together. A backflip dismount later and Lana was walking over to Chloe’s rather crowded table.

After giving Clark a peck on the cheek she leaned over and hugged Chloe. “So what’s up?” she asked, before going into a rambling series of questions. “Are you allergic to anything? Cause it would be like so bad to make cookies and find out you can’t have eggs or are allergic to milk or chocolate or something. Andwhataboutfabric? Youdon’thaveanyproblemswithwoolorsilkorcottondoyou?”

Rambling on and on Lana finally paused for breathe.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Tuesday. Lunchtime, continued.

"Smart, Talented and beautiful. Thanks. I just couldn't get that last part right. Started channeling Alan there at the end and just couldn't pull out of the dive."

Chloe arched an inquistive eyebrow. She wasn't sure who "Alan" was in the slightest, but Kyle had namedropped him like she should have known him inside and out. It was a curious feeling for her, these days, not knowing a thing.

Maybe, the dive metaphor, he was referencing some sort of crash?

She tried to cross-reference failed test pilots from fact and fiction with the first name "Alan," maybe this was a nod to Ambrose "Peevy" Peabody from "The Rocketeer," played by Alan Arkin in the movie version... not technically a pilot himself but all the same...

"Alan is my foster-dad. I got placed with him and Kim last year, and they have been real good to me. Still can't call him dad though. Just doesn't feel right. Anyway, enough about my past, tell me about Clark and Lana."

...right. That would make more sense.

She nodded slowly. "Interestingly enough, well, maybe... they're both adopted? So maybe you have something in common with the both of them, at least in that sense."

Chloe leaned back a bit, running her fingers 'round the edge of her tray.

"You've seen Spider-Man, right?" she mused. "Tobey Maguire? Well. Clark and Lana are kind of like Peter and Mary-Jane. Next-door neighbours all their lives, Clark's been carrying a torch (heh) for her since grade I don't even know. Anyway, it turns out, just this recently, apparently she's been carrying the same torch (pun perpetuated) for him all this time, and they've fiiinally hooked on to each other. It's really really mind-bogglingly romantic and sweet."

She took a forkful of mashed potatoes and chewed thoughtfully.

"Almost seems like, you know," she murmured, starting by talking with her mouthful and then swallowing partway through, though there was just a hint of rueful chagrin about her, "an evolutionary imperative."

John managed not to bat an eyelid, managed not to do a spit-take with his own mouthful. "Oh? In what sense?"

"The two sexiest people," Rose agreed, absent-mindedly plucking the appleseeds out of her core with her fingernails, "in the tri-country area hooking up and making an even sexier next generation."

"S'pose I can't disagree with that," John chuckled faintly.

"See also," Chloe smiled a tiny smile, that chagrined ruefuless hovering over her hazel gaze, "celebrity-breeder conflation portmanteaux: Brangelina, Bennifer 2.0, and/or TomKat."

When he was done paying for his lunch he looked around for a place to sit and saw Chloe, surrounded at one of the larger tables. Some he knew, but guy he was sure he didn't know. So he walked over towards her. "Hey Chloe how's your day so far?"

Chloe was so distracted by talking about Clark that she didn't notice Clark himself walking up.

She was startled and flustered and the thrill at seeing him shot up her spine so hard that it hit the base of her skull and knocked her up to her feet; she shot to her feet and nearly banged her knee on the table and she was suddenly blushing blushing red red red.

"Uh, hey, uh, Clark," she smiled, cursing herself hating herself so freaking abashed. "My day's going... my day's going okay."

I saw you naked in a picture. Almost.

Almost naked.

She took a deep breath, glanced at Kyle. "Clark, you've not, um, met Kyle Matthews? Clark, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is Clark..."

I had a daydream earlier about both of you screwing my brains out, and my brains had never been happier.

And then, oh, and then... interrupting one of the awkwardest moments in Chloe's awkward life, in came the woman of the hour and her posse of beauties.

The whole lunchroom held its breath as she entered, a one-woman pep rally and Chloe held her breath almost the longest of all.

"...and that, Kyle," she murmured, more than a little awestruck more than a little ruestruck, "is Lana."

Seen you, too.

What a day it's been.

After giving Clark a peck on the cheek she leaned over and hugged Chloe. “So what’s up?” she asked, before going into a rambling series of questions. “Are you allergic to anything? Cause it would be like so bad to make cookies and find out you can’t have eggs or are allergic to milk or chocolate or something. Andwhataboutfabric? Youdon’thaveanyproblemswithwoolorsilkorcottondoyou?”

Rambling on and on Lana finally paused for breathe.

Chloe turned a fascinating shade of pink in Lana's arms as she found herself summarily hugged. And then came the deluge, the flood...

"Not allergic to anything that I know of," Chloe riposted as skillfully as she could during the pause for station identification and oxygen. "Eggs are awesome, milk does a body good-- just ask Captain Three-Cartons, here --chocolate is my 'balm in Gilead,' and I heartily encourage the use of almonds. As for fabrics, I'm not a huge fan of rayon or polyester or velour, but there's nothing in that list that makes me break out in hives."

Squinting one eye as if this were the most important task in the world, Rose pulled the stalk out of that selfsame apple-core, and commented, deadpan and River Tam: "I'm allergic to grouper."

John smirked, entertained by this. "They don't put grouper in cookies, Rosy."

Rose blinked. "Huh."

And nodded, and went back to her comic book.

 

[LuckyVic]

Clark Kent: Tuesday Lunch Time

Clark Smiled and the stuck his hand out to shake Kyle's hand. Of course when Lana made her entrance Clark lost his train of thought and forgot all about the newcommer. Course that changed while Lana and Chloe began speaking in their alien language (girl talk) "So Kyle when did you move to Smallville?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle Tuesday, Lunchtime

I was only half listening as Chloe continued talking, as I was making the changes she suggested. I'm like that, once I sink my teeth into something I don't let go until I am finished. I heard and processed every word she said about her friends, so I guess these two lovebirds would make great Abercrombie & Fitch models. I had just finished my article and had sent it to the Chloe's inbox when a dark haired, blue eyed guy sat down, and was instantly made aware of what Chloe had been talking about.

I mean, I am not gay, but yeah, this was one of the beautiful people.

Chloe introduced us, and I sorta half stood and shook his hand (real firm handshake). that was when the cheerleading squad exploded into the lunchroom. Then the most georgeous vision of wamanhood detached herself from the others and come over to our table, pecking Clark on the cheek, hugging Chloe, and showing of a incredible lung capacity. i mean, I would have had to breathe at least twice saying all that!

OK, thats Lana. (DAMN!!)

Definately magazine cover material.

"So Kyle when did you move to Smallville?"

"End of July. Alan, my foster dad got a job with the county and he and Kim moved out here from L.A. I'm in the system and with them until I graduate, then I'm on my own. (They are not gonna kick me out or anything, but I have plans.) Nice to finally meet you. I read your articles, and your a pretty good writer Clark."

 

[LuckyVic]

Clark Kent: Tuesday Lunch Time

"Na, Chloe is the writer." Clark said as he adjusted his glasses. "Besides I just do it part time, even less then that now cause of football." He explained .

Truth was that Clark treated both as hobbies, he wasn't sure totally what the future had instore for him. But he did know it involved the farm, and Lana. "So what kinda stuff are you into Kyle?"

 

[Varshanka]

Straightening up Lana blinked. Taking in Kyle.. "Oh.. new guy." she squealed, before jumping up and running over to the squad. In hushed tones they darted looks in his direction as she spoke, one foot flat on the floor. the other was turned slightly, accentuating her calf and thigh as she leaned over.

Several of the cheerleaders half stood to peek over her shoulder as the group convo’d. After a few short minutes she returned to the table. “Nope. No scoop on him. Other than several of the girls think he rates a 9 on the hottie scale. Oh.. and Tommy wants to know if you like the boys instead…”

“Not that he’s gay mind you,” she added with a roll of her eyes. “He’s just asking..”

“Umm.. anybody have any fruit I can borrow? Don’t have pockets in this thing.. and well Coach gets mad if we stick anything in our tops that ain’t natural.. so I can’t carry any money…”

"And Clark is the greatest writer.. next to Chloe anyway. He's fast with his fingers, but Chloe is like wayyyy better at it than he is.." And off she went.. babbling on and on at lightening speed. Homework, news, the murders, the upcoming weekend, a pasue to remind Clark he was suppose to help Chloe tonight. But Wednesday night, tommorrow she clarified for him, he was supposed to help her crash study for an exam.

Stopping in mid sentence somwhere along the lines she blinked. "JULY?! O.M.G. You've been here since July and I JUST found out? I'm so gonna yell at Suzy. She's supposed to tell me about all the new students. I thought it was like today. You've been here since JUly? Who's your student guide? WHy aren't they showing you around?" she asked, interogating Kyle....