Chapter One

Chloe hurried down the busy sidewalk, neatly pushing her way through the wave of humanity. She smiled as she shoved passed bodies, said a quick "Excuse me" when she thought of it. All she got were the usual grunts of acknowledgement, or the occasional "Watch it!". Most, though, didn't pay much attention to the blond woman in the red wool coat. After all, this was Gotham City, and Chloe knew the citizens were used to worse abuse.

Clutching the small notebook in her pocket, she held onto her red cap and plowed on, her gaze now on her destination: the steps of Wayne Tower, headquarters of Wayne Enterprises. Even from this far away the gothic looking structure was intimidating, with its dingy, thick stonework and medieval design. Well, she reasoned as she rushed across the street, she'd certainly dealt with worse situations. Like the time she was almost burned to death, ironically enough in the Torch offices. Or the time she almost became human food for one of the cutest guys in school. Or when she nearly froze to death after following Clark to the ass end of nowhere. Or when she and Clark had finally confronted Lex Luthor, trying to convince his drugged and brainwashed mind that his father had been controlling him again…

iChloe watched, horrified, as Lex grabbed Clark by the shirt front and jerked him nose to nose.

"You've been trying to kill me since day one, Kent," he panted. "I couldn't decide if you'd somehow saved me, or if you'd been working with someone else to see me dead. I was a fool to even think you were innocent for even a second."

"No, Lex, it's not like that," Clark said, his voice oddly calm.

"Then what's it like? Hum? Tell me I'm just imagining things! Tell me I'm going crazy again! But didn't you just sneak up behind me and try to attack me?"

Chloe took a tentative step forward, stopping just beside the two men. "Lex, stop it. We weren't trying to hurt you."

"I might believe you, Miss Sullivan, but your friend here has a…track record." He tightened his hold on Clark and she watched as his blue eyes became cold ice shards. "How were you going to do it, Kent? Quick and easy, or slow and messy?"

The image of Lex Luthor lying on the ground surrounded by his own blood sent a shock wave of despair through her. At that moment she knew she'd carry the horrifying picture to her grave, even if it were only an imagined scene. Quickly, she insinuated herself between Lex and Clark, ignoring the pain of his tight arms pressed against her shoulder.

"Lex, stop it!" She stared at him in what she prayed was a stern look. "Stop it right now!"

His gaze didn't waver from the man he held hostage. "I would move if I were you, Chloe."

This time she shoved at his chest, knowing she wouldn't throw him off balance, but hoping her move would rattle him. "Damn it, Lex, I mean it! Clark didn't come here to hurt you! If he did, why would he bring me along?"

His eyes flickered for a moment, then landed squarely on her. "You…you would…?"

"No, I wouldn't!" she snapped. "Try to think, Lex; be logical. Why would we come here, in the middle of the day, walk through the front door and pass all those video cameras, if we had some plot to kill you?"

Lex hesitated, his grip loosening a fraction on Clark's checkered shirt. She only prayed the man behind her wouldn't do anything rash, like jerk away. Lex was balancing on a precarious edge right now, and almost anything could shove him over. Licking her dry lips, Chloe reached up to cradle the older man's face in her palms.

"Please, Lex, please, think. You trusted me once, trusted me enough to put your father behind bars. Trust me right now, I'm begging you."

He blinked several times, as if he were trying to clear the fog from his eyes. Chloe saw her advantage and she pushed at the edges.

"This isn't you, Lex; the way you've been acting, the things you've done…it's not you. This is…this is your father."

His hands dropped to his sides as his face crumbled for one heart wrenching moment. She felt a nearly excruciating bolt of sadness race through her and tried her best not to let it show. The last thing he would want was pity.

"My…my father," he rasped, his gaze still on her.

"Lex, he's wired your bedroom, and in here. He's been sending out some sort of subliminal messages to you, playing you, getting you to do the things he knows he can't. Your food…Clark got a sample and I took it to a lab. It's been laced with psychotropic drugs."

He moved away from them then, going to stand in front of the stained fireplace. He bowed his head, reached out with his hand to the mantle, and slowly closed his eyes.

"My father…son of a bitch." What should have been a curse came out on a short, mirthless laugh. "He found a way; by God he found a way, didn't he?"

Slowly, she stepped up to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lex; I'm so sorry."

She was surprised when his hand shot up to cover hers, more surprised when he held onto her as if she were his only life line.

"We're going to help you Lex," Clark said as he eased up behind her. "We'll be here for you, I promise."

"A quick detox," Lex whispered harshly. "I want a quick detox."

Chloe did her best to stifle her gasp. "But…they'll have to induce a coma. They'll have to rush your body…Lex, it's dangerous. You could die."

His head turned slowly, his dull blue eyes meeting hers. "There are worse things than dieing, Chloe. You should know that."/i

An elbow in her back brought Chloe back to reality.

"Sorry," came the muffled voice.

In true Gotham City fashion, Chloe grunted in reply. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts, tightening her grip on the pen and notebook to ground her back in the here and now. The scene with Lex had been almost two years ago, but every time she thought of that day, and of the weeks that had followed, it still felt as raw as a fresh wound. Seeing the man she'd always considered nearly indestructible lying on a thin hospital bed, wires and tubes running from his body, was a bit like seeing a superhero fall from the sky. She'd stayed with him, just like she'd promised, and she'd gone to visit him every chance she'd had when he'd been deprogramming. After all, he'd saved her life and her father's; he'd forgiven her for her brief entanglement with Lionel. She owed him, and not just because he'd done so much for her and her friends. Lex had become part of her personal circle, a man that she'd grown to admire even more after seeing his fragility.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're ready to begin."

Chloe shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on the smoky female voice. She lifted her eyebrow when she saw the woman who'd spoken. She wasn't surprised to see that the female standing behind the bank of microphones matched the voice. Tall, red headed, and slender, she was swathed in a long gray coat that probably cost as much as Chloe made in a year. She looked comfortable and competent, as if she spoke in front of crowds several times a day.

"Mr. Wayne will make his announcement and answer a few of your questions. This conference will be brief."

Chloe set her shoulders and pulled out her trusty pen and notebook. Flipping to a crisp, blank page, she clicked the top of her pen and waited impatiently. She was rewarded a moment later when a tall, broad figure pushed through the thick glass door of the Wayne building. She gave herself one purely female moment to appreciate Bruce Wayne as a man. He was, as she'd always guessed, the perfect male specimen, even in person. His dark hair was stylishly tousled, his face harshly honed, and his build a heady dream in his hand cut, black suit and matching coat. He would, she guessed, block out the light in a doorway much like an eclipse. The reporters around her settled into an excited silence as Bruce Wayne took his position behind the microphones.

"Hello and thank you all for coming." Just like the woman, Mr. Wayne's voice matched his face and body; deep, slightly dangerous, with just an edge of a rasp. He gave the small crowd a killer smile that had Chloe's heart doing a small jerk. "As most of you know, Wayne Enterprises' pharmaceutical division has been focusing on a new treatment for children with Type 1 Diabetes. We are proud to announce that, in the past year, we have discovered a new medicinal treatment that will reduce the number of injections a child must take. While this isn't a cure, we are extremely pleased that this tri-weekly treatment, taken in pill form, has shown great promise in helping the body maintain insulin levels. Wayne Enterprises received the go ahead yesterday from the FDA to begin producing Insozine to sell on the U.S. market."

Chloe was jostled as the people around her began to murmur in ecstatic tones. As far as an announcement, this one was definitely a doozey. It could be a hell of a story if handled the right way. And she planned on handling it perfectly.

"I'll take questions now," Mr. Wayne announced.

She waited patiently, bided her time as the other reporters held up their hands and volleyed for attention. She listened and took notes as he answered pertinent, and not so pertinent, questions. Really, who cared if he'd been seen twice with some tall, leggy supermodel? Some people just couldn't keep their priorities straight she supposed, even in the journalist society.

Finally, when it looked like he was about to wrap up the short press conference, she stood on her toes and waved her hand, hoping he would see her in the back. Of course, it helped that the rest of the reporters had already worn themselves out shooting out questions. She smiled with satisfaction when his dark blue gaze landed on her, chalking up the sudden jarring of her heart to the excitement of the story.

"Yes, miss?"

"Mr. Wayne, will this drug be available to all the children who will need it?"

He paused for a moment, and she could have sworn she saw a quick flash of a grin. "To whom are you referring, Ms…?"

"I was referring to low income families, Mr. Wayne. Will their children have the same opportunity to receive Insozine as, say, the upper class children?"

She could feel the wide eyed stares of the people around her but ignored them. She was wholly focused on the dark haired man behind the microphones, waiting for an answer with her pencil poised over her notebook.

He cocked his head slightly and gave her his undivided attention. "I can assure you that Wayne Enterprises has already set up a trust for needy families who need Insozine. We have already contacted most of the free clinics in Gotham in regards to carrying this medicine. No child will have to go without this drug."

She lifted an eyebrow, impressed that someone with more money than Bill Gates and Luthor Corp. combined had thought of the kids on the other side of the tracks. Sadly, it wasn't often that she saw generosity towards the people who needed it the most.

"That's all for now," Mr. Wayne said, then moved purposefully away.

The woman who had initially addressed them came back to shoo them away with a gracious smile and a firm voice. Chloe didn't mind, she had what she needed. Carefully picking her way through the retreating group, she made her way to a hard wooden bench and slid down. Wrinkling her brow, she studied the notes she had taken, grimacing at the bad penmanship and wide strokes her gloves had forced her to.

She had been thinking about angling the story towards a more 'haves and have nots' feel, but after the surprising revelation that Wayne Enterprises was willing to give the new drug away to those that needed it, she couldn't make herself. No, instead she would be doing a feel good piece about a man who, at just a few years older than she was, was quickly becoming a world class philanthropist.

"Do you need a ride?"

Chloe's head snapped up at the sound of the blatantly male voice, her nerves jangling as she met the deep blue of Bruce Wayne's gaze. His black, old style limousine had glided to a stop just in front of her, and he was staring at her over a half-lowered window.

"Mr. Wayne."

"Can I give you a ride?" he asked again, this time with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

She had a moment's worth of indecision before she hurried to the limo. To her surprise, the man in the back seat stepped out to hold the door for her, a gallant gesture that she wasn't treated to very often. The warmth of the car seeped into her face, soothing the raw patches of October cold that had settled into her cheeks. Quietly, she began formulating questions that might expand her story.

When he settled back into his seat, Bruce Wayne turned towards her. "Where to?"

"Oh, um, 828 August Avenue," she said, giving him a business like smile.

He lifted one arched eyebrow but said nothing as he leaned forward to give the driver the information.

She knew the address was a far cry from Gotham Heights, but it wasn't exactly the East End, either. She'd settled on the gently abused apartment because of the character of the building. The old, massive brownstone had been converted into large apartments, and the moment she'd seen the tall ceilings and antique moldings she'd fallen in love. She was also afforded a half-decent view of Robinson Park, a nice treat on those rare sunny mornings in the city. Of course, she'd bet Wayne Manor had an incredible panorama of the ocean and the cliffs. And it was probably crammed with antiques and family heirlooms worth more than she'd ever earn in her lifetime.

"You…surprised me with your question."

His comment jarred her neatly back into the present at the same time it brought a genuine grin to her lips. "Well, I'll admit I wasn't prepared for your answer."

He shook his head and smiled at her, the warmth of the lifting of his mouth heating her quicker than the inside of the car had. "Wow, you must not have a very high opinion of me."

"I don't have an opinion of you at all."

"Oh, ouch!" He winced as he leaned back against the corner of the seat.

She laughed softly as she held his twinkling eyes. "Mr. Wayne, I'm a reporter; it's my job to be unbiased."

"Any woman who hits my ego with a near fatal blow can call me Bruce." He settled further in to the buttery soft cushions as he studied her. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"No, you didn't."

He gave an appreciative chuckle as he shook his head. Chloe tried not squirm as he watched her. Something about the way he was scrutinizing her made her feel hot and cold at the same time, an experience she couldn't ever remember having.

"Alright, Little Red, I'll guess you'll have to remain a mystery."

She drew her brows together in question. "Little Red?"

"Your coat, your hat…Little Red Riding Hood," he explained.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it. "And are you the Big Bad Wolf?"

She realized her mistake in that next moment. He didn't lean into her, he didn't make any sort of overt move to crowd into her space. But she could feel the heavy innuendo of unspoken words as they hung in the air. The molecules around her fairly sizzled when he lifted his eyebrow again.

"It depends who you ask, Little Red."

Chloe swallowed against her suddenly constricted throat. The man had much too much machismo, and it was spilling over to scorch her. She had to get this back to a professional level; she had to establish some sort of wall before things went too far.

"Lois, Lois Lane," she said, her voice thick.

"Ms. Lane, intrepid reporter." He stuck his large hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

She accepted his offering, sliding her palm against his. The quick fissure of electricity that shimmered through her blood was firmly dismissed. She wasn't sure where the conversation would have led, but she was more than a little relieved when the car pulled to a graceful stop in front of her building.

"Well, here we are," she announced, trying her best to sound friendly instead of overheated. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. – Bruce."

"You're welcome, Little Red – Lois."

Before she could form a response he was taking her hand in a gentle grasp, then laying a courtly kiss on her gloved knuckles. She didn't know whether to laugh at his gesture or melt into a pool with a sigh. She was saved from either when her door was quietly and efficiently opened. Hurriedly she slid from the backseat, relieved when her feet hit solid ground.

She turned to give the chauffer a grateful smile. "Thank you very much."

In a gesture borne from years of caring for her father, Chloe reached up and adjusted the regal man's collar. Giving the lapels of his coat a final pat, she turned and headed as quickly as she could into the building.

She missed the raised eyebrows of Alfred and the muffled laugh of Bruce as he watched him. She was too busy working her key into the front door lock. As she stepped into the small foyer, she had the irresistible urge to turn and watch the car drive away; she checked herself just in time. Business, she reminded herself; Bruce Wayne was a charming man, as his string of ex-girlfriends could no doubt tell her. If he'd stopped to pick her up, it was because he was sizing her up, she decided, trying to get a feel for a reporter that wasn't willing to simply fall at the feet of the great Mr. Wayne.

Determinedly pushing the memory of his warmth from her mind, Chloe huffed up to the second floor and down the hallway to her apartment. She was still busy trying to forget her ride when she closed the door behind her, automatically resetting the four locks she kept on the door as protection.

"My star reporter has been out chasing a big story."

Chloe gasped as she spun, her red hat slipping from her hair and sliding onto the wood floor. She immediately crouched into a fighting stance, ready to confront whoever had managed to break into her apartment. When the shadow on the overstuffed reading chair finally flipped on the side lamp, she let out a heavy, annoyed breath.

She glared at him with irritated eyes and propped her hands on her hips. "What are you doing here?"