Chapter Six

"She's not there."

Lionel's heart stopped at the words.

"What do you mean, she's not there? It's dawn. Where could she be?" He practically shouted into the telephone.

"I'm trying to find that out now, sir," the agent replied, stoically. "I'll report back the minute I find her."

Lionel growled with dissatiscation and hung up without a word of goodbye. He leaned back in his chair, looking on pensively.

At five-thirty, Jonathan rolled over, awaking instantly when his arm fell upon the cold sheets rather than a warm body. He propped himself up and gazed over at the empty side of the bed, forlorn. She still hadn't come home. He willed himself out of bed, jumped into the shower, and got dressed. Before making his way out to the barn, he grabbed the mini-notepad from Martha's bedside table, scribbled down a few words, and left it on her pillow, for whenever she might return.

His message was simple.

"I love you. And I'm here, always."

Sometime after six, Lionel received a call from his trusty security officer informing him that he had found Martha Kent, at the Talon. He ordered a car without pause, and told the driver to take the fastest way he knew to get there.

When Lionel arrived, Martha and Lois were slowly waking from their respective slumbers. Lois made coffee while Martha took a shower. Martha had told her nothing the night before, and Lois hadn't made it an issue. She was just grateful that someone valued her enough to seek out comfort from her. As she poured them each a strong cup of coffee, she could faintly hear the sound of someone knocking on the front door of the shop downstairs. Her interest piqued, she put on her slippers and ran downstairs.

"Sorry, buddy, we don't open until nine on Sundays, so…"

Lois stopped short when she saw that it was none other than Lionel Luthor at the door. She frowned, and opened the door out of sheer curiosity. "Mr. Luthor."

Lionel nodded. "Ms. Lane."

"What…I mean, what are you…doing here?" She questioned, entirely dumbfounded.

"I'm looking for Martha Kent. I know she's here."

Lois furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "You…know she's here? How do you know she's here?

"Just let me in, Lois, please."

Lois placed on hand on her hip, in an atttempt to create an aura of intimidation, which of course fell flat before the master of intimidation himself. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Please believe me when I tell you, it is in Mrs. Kent's best interest that I see her right now," Lionel insisted.

She sighed. "Look, why don't you just wait outside for a minute, and I'll go tell Mrs. Kent you're here. If she wants to see you, she'll come down."

Lois tried to close the door with him on the other side, but Lionel was persistent and pushed past her. "Hey!" She exclaimed, as Lionel powerwalked past her, up the stairs like a man on a mission. She ran after him. "Mr. Luthor!"

Lionel reached the closed door the apartment at the top of the stairs, which to his surprise, was opened instantly by the object of his search. Even more to his surprise was her ensemble – she stood in the doorway in a scant thigh-length bathrobe with nothing underneath. She held a towel in her hand, which she had been using to dry her hair. When Lois finally caught up to him, Lionel's eyes were wide, both with desire and embarassment. Martha was perhaps even more embarassed. She folded her arms across her chest self-consciously, still holding the towel.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Lionel trailed off, his eyes never leaving her figure. "I was…worried when you didn't go home last night, and when you still hadn't showed up by morning, I…"

"Have you been following me?" Martha demanded, angrily.

"No, no, not me personally. I've been having you followed." Lionel shook his head, almost to himself. "I don't know if that's any better."

"This is unbelievable," she said under her breath, looking away from him.

"Martha, I was worried about you. After you came to see me, I knew…I knew something very gravely wrong, and I just…wanted to ensure your safety, that's all."

She pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips in opposition, and all Lionel could think about from that point on was how badly he wanted to kiss her.

"Lionel, I'm fine," Martha declared firmly. "Of course, I'd be better if you would reconsider your possession of the crystal."

"I can't do that, but I…"

"Wait." She held up her hand, stopping him. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll come downstairs."

Lionel nodded, accepting these terms. He glanced sheepishly at Lois, who was still flushed and perturbed, before traveling back down the stairs. Martha turned back into the apartment, and Lois followed her, now with interest.

"Okay, I was cool letting this go last night, but I gotta say, Mrs. Kent, you've got me intrigued, so spill."

"I can't talk to you about this, Lois. Trust me," Martha replied, walking back into the bathroom. Lois was hot on her tail.

"Oh, come on. You showed up here in the middle of the night in tears, and you've got Lionel Luthor coming to call for you practically before the rest of the town lifts an eyelid. What gives?"

Martha whirled around and looked Lois in the eye intently. "Lois, listen to me. The more you know, the more danger you're in. Please. Don't ask me anymore questions and, more importantly, do not do your own digging and try to uncover the answers yourself. Please."

Lois nodded, but Martha was still unsatisfied. "Promise me, Lois."

"I promise."

Martha touched her shoulder warmly and barely smiled before turning into the bathroom and closing the door, leaving Lois alone on the other side.

"Martha, please," Lionel pleaded. "Tell me what she's done."

Martha shook her head and crossed her legs. They were sitting across from each other at a table in the Talon, surrounded by empty chairs and tables. She had borrowed a skirt and a Calvin Klein tank top from Lois, covered by a short, trendy jacket. Her hair fell easily around her shoulders, causing Lionel to believe he had never seen anyone appear so effortlessly beautiful.

"I don't think so," Martha replied. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Lionel leaned forward. "Who are you going to trust, the woman who's blackmailing you and threatening your life, or the man who has gone far out of his way to help you?"

Martha squinted her eyes, glaring at him skeptically. "How do I know you're not just grilling me for information, to trap Genevieve Teague in your own little game of cat and mouse? I don't want to be your little go-between, a sacrificial pawn."

He sighed, and leaned back once more. "Martha Kent, if you don't know by now how I feel about you…"

"I've hardly seen you at all in two years!" Martha exclaimed in response, surprised at her own fervor.

"Even so. You must know that I would never, ever put you in harm's way."

"Unless I suddenly get in the way of your own personal gain."

"Martha, no," Lionel insisted, genuinely. "Never."

She locked eyes with him then, and saw that he was sincere. Suddenly she was plagued with the memory of that awful day at LuthorCorp. She had been catapulted into a state of fear the moment the weapons had been brandished, instantly driven into his arms as her only source of comfort. She had clung to him desperately – of all the men in the room, she trusted Lionel the most – and he had held her tightly, stroking her hair. If it hadn't been for the explicit danger of the situation, she would have noticed the tenderness with which he held and comforted her. Remembering now made Martha feel instantly uncomfortable.

Yes, she knew how he felt about her.

"I only want to help you, Martha," Lionel said then, to fill the silence. "You cannot begin to understand the damage Genevieve Teague has been known to incur with a mere glance. She is devastatingly powerful, and she has no boundaries or limitations. If you're tangled up with her, it's going to take an equal amount of power to free you from her web. Let me help you."

Martha turned her gaze away from his, and looked at her shoes for what felt like several minutes to both of them. When at last her attention returned to him, the piercing connection her eyes made with his startled him.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He repeated, abruptly feeling disoriented.

"Yes."

He nodded slowly. He was truthfully very surprised she had agreed so easily. He had expected much more of a challenge.

"All right, well…" He sighed, meeting her now steadfast and somewhat confident gaze. "Tell me everything."

Jonathan heard the car door slam from inside the barn and immediately dropped what he was doing and jogged outside. The sound had not come from Martha's sedan as he had hoped, but from a sleek, black limosine. He frowned, his first thought being that this was somehow related to the Luthors. He shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly approached the limo, stopping short when the door opened a long, shapely leg stepped out and a high heel-clad foot hit the dirt driveway.

When the figure fully exited the car, Jonathan held back a little, recognizing the woman as Genevieve Teague, whom he had met for the first time only twenty hours earlier. He regarded her uneasily and kept his distance. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked toward him.

"Mr. Kent!" Genevieve called out, congenially enough.

"Ms. Teague," Jonathan replied, emotionless.

It was then that he noticed what she held in her hand – a large manila envelope.

"I see Martha has yet to return, hmm?" She said, approaching him.

"How did you know she was gone?" He questioned, skeptically.

"I think, Mr. Kent, you'll be hard-pressed to find something I don't know," Genevieve answered, coolly. "Which is precisely why I'm here." She held up the manila envelope. "I was hoping we could speak privately for a moment. There are a few things I'd like to share with you."

Jonathan sighed reluctantly and led the way into the house. Genevieve followed, a sly smile forming on her lips.

TBC.