"Go By"

///chapter ten///

.








It was a funny little pattern.

First, he would hear it.




*clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack *




Then silence.

Well, not total silence.

Clark would make his rounds in the noisy basement, collecting all the orders and errands from each desk. He’d pass by Chloe’s, who’d flash a tame smile in his direction on his way through, captivated by the delicate clacking of her key strokes.

Clark would smile too, very mildly, continuing to push a cart around the floor, his bulky shoulders moving against the cheap starched cotton of his blue dress shirt.

Clark focused on that sound even as he returned to the isolated copy room where it was much quieter, only the hum of the Xerox machines filling the vacuum.

He’d listen as her restless fingers pattered as he stacked printer paper and fixed toner cartridges. He’d listen until it stopped, again.

He’d wait a few moments, waiting for a sign that she wasn’t watching him from a distance. But as the hairs on his neck stood, he knew she was.

He turned. He always turned.

Through the glass pane that separated him from her, Clark observed the visualization of the world-wide broadcast. Every desk belonged to an individual cluster of breaking news, the entire building a harmonized assemblage of bylines and, more importantly, deadlines. And here they were at the anchor, the basement, where each and every news story was represented by an enterprising reporter with a desk underneath the effulgent light lent by mosaic glass above. Every mind was busy, face fixed downward, concentrated on their work.

Except one.

Was it real how her hair lit iridescently like champagne, the flitter of sunlight wisping through the soft flyaways of her hair. Or did Clark too imagine the bubbling, glowing expression she wore that agreed with her eyes.

He watched golden hazel halos flash before she whipped back around and started again.




*clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack *





Invisibly, Clark smiled, only as much as he allowed himself to these days.

So she was watching him. So what? He’d caught her a few times this morning.

It wasn’t much different that what he’d been doing these past two years, except now, well, the tables were turned.

He faced back around, continuing with his easy work.

Around lunch time, Clark heard her typing pause again, and Clark felt the automatic reflex to look up and find her eyes resting on his. He resisted only a few moments before he finally gathered the courage to idly feign scanning the room, hoping that she was there, with one of her lovely smiles aimed at him.

But she wasn’t. Instead Jimmy was there, leaning on a corner of her desk, completely blocking his view.

The two of them were huddled close in front of the computer screen. He heard Jimmy laugh rather enthusiastically, even without his super hearing. Clark fought the temptation to blur by and see what was going on, curious to know what the joke was.

Another batch of files was wheeled in by dolly and Clark picked up the first box, opened it, and started sorting through them.

He heard Jimmy laugh again, this time even louder. Clark stilled, willing himself not to eavesdrop. But it was too easy.

He tilted his head to one side, and gently focused beyond the automated hum of the copy room, beyond the thick glass window that separated Clark from the rest of the basement; through the maze of chatter from busy mouths and fuzzy phone receivers, shutting file drawers and frisky foot falls. Filtering through the ambience, he found them, both of their voices whispering now, only that in Jimmy’s he could hear a hint of amusement.


“So, you’re saying Clark rigged this whole Nelson-Baker drama?” Jimmy asked incredulously.

“No, no. That’s not what I’m saying. I just find it… weird that Clark shows up the same night that two of our old class mates from Smallville turn up in Metropolis.”

“Chloe, he told you he’s been working here for over a year. Obviously it’s just a coincidence.”

“Jimmy, have you ever even SEEN him here before today?”

There was a pause.

“Well, no… But, I mean the basement is busy. Besides, I thought you said you saw him around here a couple of times before last night.”

Clark’s back stiffened.

“That was… different. Forget I even mentioned that.”

Clark turned his ear slightly, even more intrigued.

“But you said you’ve been seeing this guy following you--hey!”
Clark finally turned, ever so slightly, to watch Jimmy be pulled away by the elbow.

“Chloe, what’s the deal?”

“Shhh.. I think he can hear us.”

Clark whipped back around, face hot.

“Chloe, he’s in the copy room. He can’t hear us.”

“I’m sure of it, Jimmy. He’s been watching me, us this whole time. I don’t know how he’s doing it, he must have a bug planted on my desk.”

“Chloe, now you’re just talking crazy.”

“Am I? Listen Jimmy. Two Smallville natives end up in Belle Reeve for years because of their meteor abilities, and on one glorious night they both spring loose in Metropolis. That same night Clark, another Smallville native ends up here, in the basement of the Planet last night.”

“Chloe--”

“Jimmy, let me finish.”

Clark continued pressing buttons on the copier, but his attention rested solely on Chloe’s voice. He heard her take a deep breath, continuing.

“Jimmy, last time I was in Smallville, Clark was best friends with Lex Luthor. Now, I know I’m taking a small leap with this, but is it so crazy to think that Clark is working for Lex? The more that I think about it, the clearer it is. All those times I thought I was being followed, I was. It’s him Jimmy. Lex is using Clark to get to me.”

Inside the copy room, Clark’s heart sank near a feeling next to disconcerting, crushing disappointment.

He shuffled a few papers, trying to look busy.

Clark waited for their conversation to pick back up but it didn’t. He knew why. Accusatory eyes were tracing patterns down his neck.

“Think about it, Olsen. Remember that night two years ago when Clark wound up at the doorstep of our investigation against Luthor’s spiked school board?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I thought it was just a coincidence then, too. But afterward when Clark and I were outside talking, he kept trying to get me to quit my investigation.”

Clark nodded to himself, remembering the night. He’d asked her to not investigate Lex only because he knew how dangerous the man was. He did it only for Chloe’s safety. And since then, he’d taken initiative to reassure that Chloe stayed safe. That was the only reason why he’d followed her. Really.

“You’re right, Chlo.” Jimmy’s voice was lower with growing suspect, “That is kinda odd.”

Chloe sighed. “I know. Now you know why I am leery of the whole subject, suspicious of Clark working here.”

“Maybe we should check your desk for bugs.”

“Not now, he’s still watching us.”

Clark gritted his teeth.

“Yeah, later.” Jimmy’s voice quieted. “So, what do we do?”

“We act normal.”

“Normal?” Jimmy teased, “Chloe you’ve been avoiding this guy all day. I think he already knows something up.”

“I don’t think I’ve been that obvious.”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Never mind, I have a better idea.”

“What?” She repeated impatiently.

“Just trust me. This is how they always draw out a rat.”

“Wait, Jimmy, no! Don’t turn this into one your film noir movie plots, please.”

“Trust me, Chloe.” Jimmy’s voice was closer now, but Clark didn’t dare turn around. “You want your friends close, but your enemies closer. Just follow my lead.”

“Jimmy wait--”





*BAM! BAM! BAM!*





Clark imperceptivity shook his ear, not prepared for the sudden decibel change, switching off his super hearing in time to hear the glass lightly tapped again.




*Tap tap tap*




Clark turned to see Jimmy smiling on the other side of the copy room window, Chloe right behind with a less enthusiastic expression.

“Hey, C.K.!”

Clark waved.

Jimmy waved back, winked at Chloe and then popped his head into the copy room.

Clark watched several uncertain expressions breeze through Chloe she finally settled for a sharp smile, whipping around to sit at her desk.

“Hey, Chloe and I were just talking about getting some lunch. Care to join?”

Clark looked from Jimmy’s avid expression to where Chloe still sat at her desk, typing furiously by the looks of it.

“Really? Because she looks sort of, busy.” Clark nodded in her direction.

Jimmy blinked and turned, following Clark’s direction. “Oh, that’s par for Chloe. I’d be worried if she wasn’t busy.” Jimmy laughed, saw that Clark didn’t catch the joke and then continued, “Especially now. Didn’t you hear? Two of you and Chloe’s old
classmates made jail break from Belle Reeve last night.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Clark said concealing the twinge of guilt in his voice. He felt guilty enough knowing that both Seth and Alicia were pinned up in Belle Reeve because of him. And now Seth Nelson was dead, and Alicia Baker’s status pending. Clark had looked everywhere this morning for Alicia but found nothing. She was untraceable, and even if Clark did happen to catch up with her, she would teleport instantly.

He remembered how he had caught her, once. It was late in junior year when Alicia ran away with one of the other boys from their school. Typical teenage rebellion except for the fact they had hit up a few stores in Smallville to make a little cash before they hit the road, using Alicia’s ability as the getaway. It was only by chance that on one of these cash runs, they’d picked a local paint store. Once Clark had wrangled down Alicia’s boyfriend, he’d accidentally knocked over a paint can. A lead paint can.

That was the end of that.

But this time Clark wasn’t so lucky. Neither was Seth. And Alicia was still out there.

“Well, you should know that any news revolving around meteor freaks tends to gravitate onto Chloe‘s shoulders.” Jimmy informed casually. He perked up, casting a leery brow at Clark. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Clark stilled. “What do you mean?”

Jimmy shrugged, becoming casual again. “Oh you know. Both of you grew up in Smallville. You guys used to look into this stuff all the time, right? Metropolis must feel like home now that we have meteor freaks running around.”

Clark developed a stony expression, concealing the wince once Jimmy casually tossed the word, freak.

“Not exactly, Jimmy. Chloe and I only knew each other for two years, I wouldn’t say we grew up together. Secondly, I can’t really say anything about the meteor infected.”

The copier stopped, and Clark stacked his papers together.

“Smallville was a quiet town.” Clark continued, steeling himself against Jimmy’s doubtful expression, “Still is. There wasn’t much to do, nor was there a lot to write home about.”

He watched as Jimmy crossed his arm.

“Hence why I’m here.” Clark shrugged and motioned towards the basement.

Jimmy’s expression was unreadable. “That’s pretty strange considering Smallville PD open records lists your name as over fifty times in every meteor related case.”

Clark froze.

“Chloe’s not the only one with an investigate nose.” Jimmy uncrossed his arms, “It’s a wonder you chose journalism and not law enforcement, considering your stats.”

Clark parted his lips, prepared with an alibi.

“Hey, we’ll catch up on that story later, huh?” Jimmy smiled, patting Clark’s tense back. “I think Chloe’s due for a caffeine run.”


**
She was furious with Jimmy. Didn’t she just finish saying that Clark was working for Lex? Why is he in there, chatting up the enemy?

She burrowed down on her keyboard, every key stroke louder than the previous.

A few more sentences and she stopped. She looked, and saw Jimmy and Clark still in the copy room, talking. Smiling.

She turned back around, and continued on with her article. She’d already missed her morning deadline, but she took a big gamble last night. After she’d made her curious departure from Clark and the Planet last night, she returned to the bridge to clear her thoughts. Clear any thoughts that lingered around the overwrought, complicated ideas that clouded her mind.

She buried herself in work. Looking for answers to other questions keeping her from searching for explanations of her own.

Once she returned to the bridge site, there were even more squad cars and fire engines than before. More pedestrians and curious on lookers than hours earlier when the scene was nothing more than a suicide and city structure collapse.

But since she’d left, the impossible happened. From underneath all the chaos and destruction, hope was given, revived and with it, the bridge resurrected.

It wasn’t perfect. Sutures and major spot welding evident in the girders and trusses.

But, it was standing. And all of Metropolis standing with it.

Chloe made her way through the crowds with their cell phones clicking with digital shutters, just one more picture uploaded to one of millions of those crowd sourcing sites.

All of them, pointed up, as the gallons of water trapped inside the seams of girders slowly trickled down in a bizarre, extraordinary cascade.

While they looked up, Chloe focused down.

Down the bank, where the river met steel pillar, stood several men, who unlike the others around them wearing navy police uniforms, wore very black suits.

And in the middle of them.

Lex.

She saw the police lights reflect of off his pale crown first before her eyes reached the gray disks that resembled dead halos rather than irises. He’d been on the phone, and apparently, she noted as he flipped his phone closed in secrecy, with someone important.

Yellow tape and several waves of armed men separated her from the monster dressed in Armani silk. She wanted to point, scream, show every soul in Metropolis how nonexistent Lex’s was. He was responsible for all of this.

She had done it before too, only it fell on deaf ears and blind eyes. Even now.

Camera crews weaved past her, feeding live images to every screen in Metropolis and around the globe. Everyone had eyes on the mystery of the miracle worker, who ever they were, who ever could lift a mega ton monolith.

But her eyes were fixed on Lex and as he walked ever so slowly towards her, like a lion stalking his prey, he smiled. It was one of those smiles that stirred up every creepy, tingling nerve in her limbs.

He didn’t stop when he neared her, only passing her up as if she was any other subservient he came across in his domain.

He slid into his very black limo and was sped away, his men in suits following in sharp town cars.

There would only be one reason why Lex ventured out of his tower to stow interest at the street level.

There was a lead somewhere.

She could smell it.

She looked around the sea of navy uniforms and spotted the odd ball.

The wrecker guy.

She slinked over to the guy with greasy coverall alls, unfolding a crisp twenty from her purse. If a girl wanted a good tip, she’d have to tip good.

And a good tip it was.

The wrecker guy not only managed to give her the address of where portions of the wreckage was being transported, but also the name authorizing its shipment.

Was it even a surprise?


**
She looked up at the bronze gilded clock above her desk and checked the time. It was eight o’ five. If she wanted to keep on a hot trail, she’d have to move, now.

She minimized her working paragraphs, shut down the computer, picked up her purse from the back of her chair and swung it over her shoulder.

She threw a cautious glance in the direction of the copy room.

It was empty. Jimmy and Clark nowhere to be found. That was weird.

Chloe brushed it off and continued, barely one step forward before she bounced off of the solid chest blocking her path, a squeak escaping her.

“Umph!”

Two solid hands caught her waist before she could stumble any further. She looked up to see Clark, awkward glasses and all peering down at her with an indecipherable smile.

“Clark!” It was difficult when she tried tearing her eyes from his. She did so after a few moments.

A few strands of hair fell onto her brow; nervously, she brushed them away, instituting a shy smile. “We keep running into each other.”

“I know.”

She blinked, not sure how to form a response to his brief one. Behind Chloe was Jimmy, wearing a smug expression.

“Well then,” her smile tighter, “Until next time--” She moved to the side to continue out the door, but Jimmy snaked a arm around her shoulders and directed her back.

“Actually, Chlo,” Jimmy discreetly winked, “Clark and I were just talking about a coffee run.”

She blinked again, this time at Jimmy.

Clark watched them both exchange cryptic expressions aimed at communicating something imperative but sensitive to the fact he was watching them.

After a few awkward, silent moments, Clark cleared his throat.

Chloe’s tight smile appeared again, “Uh, since you and Clark have become such great
friends, Jimmy,” she accentuated with a death stare, “Maybe you and Clark would like to go yourselves?”

“Without you?” Jimmy smiled sweetly, “What would be the point in that? You and Clark probably have a lot to catch up on, today’s as good as any to relive old memories.”
And with that, Jimmy hooked his elbow around hers leading her out of the basement double doors.

Jimmy made sure they walked a few paces ahead of Clark who was following tentatively.

“Trust me, Chlo.“ He whispered in her ear. “I have this all planed out. The more we let him in on our agenda, the more he‘ll let in on his. One way or another, we‘ll know exactly who Clark Kent is.”

Her sideways cynical expression indicated her disapproval, but her drawn out sigh gave away her consent.

“I trust you, Jimmy. I always do.”


**
**

“Almond mocha, extra whip.”

“Double shot, extra milk, no foam.”

The barista took Chloe and Jimmy’s orders, looked up, waiting for Clark’s.

He looked like a lost puppy, searching the crowded, confusing chalk board menu.
They’d gone to one of the several trendy cafes in downtown Metropolis. It was a upgrade to the Talon back in Smallville. A big upgrade; complete with glass countertops, high rise ceiling with snobbish, expressionistic artwork hung tastefully throughout its walls.

“Do you have regular coffee?”

The barista stared at Clark as if his request were more confusing than any impossible combination created.

Clark looked to Chloe and Jimmy with an apologetic smile.

Jimmy returned it with a bright one of his own, and stepped in with his debit card. “Go ahead, C.K., I got this.”

Clark was about to protest, but Jimmy swatted his hand away. “No, no I got this. You and Chloe grab a spot.”

Clark complied, making a mental note that he owed Jimmy coffee next time, and turned around towards Chloe.

But Chloe was already five steps ahead, seated by a window, staring out of it. Clark joined her, sitting across the booth.

Clark noticed that her hair fell a little longer around her shoulders these days and at the realization, the corners of his mouth tweaked a little, resisting a smile.

“What?” Chloe asked, not missing a single expression that filtered through Clark’s stoic nature.

“Nothing.”

He looked at her again, seeing that she wasn’t going to take that as a good enough answer.

“I was just remembering last time we were having coffee.” Clark looked bashful, pushing up his glasses. “You were wearing these hair clips…”

“Oh..” Chloe smiled and pulled on one of her curls. “No, this is all me this time.” She shrugged in the same way Clark remembered. “Unfortunately my schedule doesn’t allow me the regular, mandatory three hour per salon visit. I’ve been itching to cut it.” she added flippantly, returning the curls to their respective places.

“That’s a shame.”

It was quiet compliment, but coming from Clark’s deep, low voice, it was enough to cause a her blush.

She looked up and saw that Clark was blushing too. At least some things hadn’t changed. Clark was still as awkward around women as he used to be. Except he had never been awkward around her before. It had been awhile since they’d been around each other. Maybe he was out of practice.

“So,” Jimmy slid in beside Chloe with their drink orders, “what’d I’d miss?”
Neither Clark or Chloe answered, each strangely preoccupied with their coffees.

Jimmy shrugged. “Ok.” He sipped from his drink and then scrambled through a few files in his messenger bag. “Check these out, C.K. They’re from last night.”
Spread across the table were several glossy photographs, Jimmy’s photographs.

“Oh wow, Jimmy!“ Chloe picked up a single, studying it with intrigue.

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighed, scratching his head. “They’re okay I guess. If only I could have captured him. The Blur.”

Clark hid his eyes, but kept a pretense of interest in the photographs by fingering one absently. It was an excellent shot of the bridge, being rebuilt by hand. Good exposure, classic composition. The focus was even a little inventive, creating a unmistakable smudge spot where everything else was crisp and clear. That blur would be Clark, Metropolis’ Blur.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jimmy. No one’s been able to capture him.” Chloe smiled at her best friend, “It’s only a matter of time, though.” She added, sipping from her steaming cup.

Clark drank from his as well, thinking the hot liquid might sooth the tightness creeping up his throat.

“Input, Kent?”

Clark diverted his eyes from Chloe to Jimmy. “Well, I’m not really a photographer--”

“No, I mean, about the super hero biz. Some love them. Some,” Jimmy eyed Chloe,
“well some don’t.”

Clark looked back to Chloe. “You don’t approve of them?”

“Approval is irrelevant.” She set down her coffee and leaned forward. “I simply don’t agree with how the public regards them. These costumed ‘saviors’ run by here every day claiming to save the people of Metropolis but all they really do is choke the real issues.”

Clark frowned. “Some may do that, lose perspective. But not all of them. Some of them don’t have self endorsing interviews and their pictures in the paper.” Clark spoke humbly, “Some of them just want to do good.”

“What, are you the Blur’s spoke’s person?” Her eyes narrowed and voice elevated.

“News flash, but the Blur’s measly out of focus picture, (no offense Jimmy,) made front page while the real story was pushed back to page six. Explain to me how that is not counter intuitive to what a hero does. One man was killed, and a girl is still out there, afraid for her life. If the Blur were really a savior he’d stopped Seth Nelson from jumping from that bridge and found Alicia by now.”

Chloe paused, feeling a small satisfaction once her argument proved. “All the Blur accomplished last night was to show off repetitive muscle memory on how to impress the world with his ‘abilities’ and leave no insight on how he could try to actually solve the problem.”

Clark took a large dose of strong coffee with Chloe’s criticism. “Okay, so the Blur isn’t perfect. He can’t be everywhere at once.”

It was true. Clark wasn’t omnipotent. Right before the bridge collapse Clark had been over on the west coast, fusing a few fault lines before a horrendous earthquake threatened to drop the entire coastline into the ocean. Melding tectonic plates together was tricky and time consuming. Clark, literally having to stitch the world back together, had been too late to save Seth. But he did what he could when he’d found the mess afterwards. It was his mess, and he tried to clean it up.

“Clark you spent more time at Smallville High than I did. Did you ever hang out with Alicia Baker?”

“No, Alicia and I hung out in different circles.” This was true. Only Clark knew where this question was lining up to.

“But you knew what circles she was in, right? Who she talked to before she ended up in Belle Reeve?”

“I guess so.”

“Good. Maybe you can start there.” Chloe crawled out of the booth and so did Jimmy.

Clark stood up, confused as to what he just volunteered for.

“Jimmy and I are going to follow up on something. Clark you go to Smallville and see what you can dig up there. Maybe by the end of tonight we can find Alicia before Lex does.”

“Lex?” Clark frowned.

“Yes, Lex Luthor.” Chloe said with curious eyes. “He was there last night, didn’t you know?”

Clark shook his head, surmising her statement. “You think Lex is after her?”

“I know he is.” She stepped out of the café as Jimmy held the door. Clark noticed a furtive exchange between them before they departed along the crowded sidewalk.
Clark fisted his hands and grumbled. He was annoyed, but he had to admit, Chloe was right.

In all the years Clark had worked to save people, he never really saved the meteor infected. They were always put away on that distant shelve, Belle Reeve, left to be dealt with for another day until Clark knew where to start. But even since then, he hadn’t found any other solution.

Clark stiffened, the implications of her words materializing finally. Where was Chloe heading off to?

Probably into one of Lex’s traps! Clark fumed, swigging the rest of his coffee, grimacing at the bitterness. Coffee! He never liked the stuff anyway.

He stalked out of the café and looked in the area Jimmy and Chloe had disappeared.
There were oceans bodies between them by now, but---

His ears perked, his attention promptly torn in the opposite direction. Someone was screaming for help twenty six odd blocks away, from what Clark calculated.

On reflex, muscle memory, Clark recalled from her sarcastically, he ducked around an ally, sped out of his cheap suit and blurred away, leaving only a funny, unexplained breeze trailing in his wake down the avenues.

chapter eleven