Endless Epitaph

The Players : Naomi Glover, Blade (Puppet)
Where : The Bodega Bay Inn located in Bodega Bay, California.
When : February 2st, 2009.
Rating : R just in case.
Notes : New characters, new puppets, and an original character. Horror shows!

The sound of thunder echoed through the worn down building as lightning crashed dangerously close to the cliffside inn. The Bodega Bay Inn had long been closed due to mysterious murders over the years that still sat unsolved in the boxes of case files in the local precinct’s basement. Rumor had it the place was cursed ever since a mysterious suicide of one Andre Toulon in the 1940s, though the first wave of deaths in the building hadn’t occurred until 1989, which was soon followed by the murder of then owner Megan Gallagher. Even so, rumors spiraled out from there and no business thrived there after that and further murders followed through the years. Still, it hadn’t stopped the lease from constantly changing hands in continuous failures to revive the once beautiful retreat.

As it was, the inn was once again under new ownership by a woman named Chiyo Yamada who was always interested in renovating old and somewhat historical buildings, particularly those with questionable pasts. She also had a tendency to send willing members of her family to do further investigation after her purchases, which was exactly how her eldest daughter Naomi Glover found herself alone and trying in vain to get the generator working again. It was an older model and was in disrepair but the real estate agents at assured her mother that it still functioned properly, though the man had encouraged the thought of replacing it. Naomi was beginning to see why and had she been the type to do so she’d be gone and telling the real estate agent off in a wave of fury. Instead, she merely smothered her frustration with a figurative pillow.

( Why yes, there's more! )

The Players : Dean and Sam Winchester, Anyone in the area
Where : Salem, Mass.
When : January 30, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language maybe.
Notes : Dean and Sam just finished working a haunting in a nearby town. They're eating before heading to their next destination.

Sam and Dean walked into the cafe clearly exhausted. The duo had spent all night in a haunted building that once served as a reform school in the early 1900s.

"Dean, promise me no more evil spirits for at least a couple months," Sam said as the two headed for a booth in the back of the cafe.

"Oh, you're just upset cause that she-ghost possessed you for a minute. But that guy...what was his name again?"

"Jarod Barker. How many times did he toss you around the room when he locked me out?"

"Enough," Dean said rubbing his shoulder. "Almost took my shoulder out its socket."

"Well, he wont be hurting anyone else. So, where we off to next?"

"Don't know. Was thinking of taking a couple days off. I mean we've earned it after the last couple weeks. Lilith's still in hiding, so I say a couple days wouldn't hurt us."

Sam gave Dean a weird look.

"What?"

"Dude, you never want to take time off...You're not happy unless your hunting. You go crazy if we don't have something keeping us busy."

"Yeah, well things change Sam."

Dean's time in Hell and being brought back by angels to save the world and hunting non-stop was starting to take its toll on him. He just wanted a small break.

"Anything look good," Dean asked trying to change the subject.

"They got apple pie."

"Love me some pie," Dean said with a grin.

The Players : Buffy Summers, Clark Kent, Harley Quinn. (Open for anyone in the area!)
Where : An alley close to ISIS in Metropolis, Kansas.
When : January 31, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language maybe.
Notes : Buffy is in Metropolis! Yay?

She shivered as the damp moisture in the winter air attacked her senses. She’d been waiting for over an hour now for her dealer and she hadn’t even gotten a text from the bastard. She hated winter. It was too damn cold and in the Midwest it was too unpredictable. Yet here she was in some alley waiting to get her fix. The things she’d do to make her troubles go away... to not have to think or face life… She told herself it was worth it, but in a saner and calmer state she’d know she was lying. She checked her watch again. It was only eight pm, but the darkness around her was already getting to her. She pulled her coat tighter around her and looked upward as she fidgeted impatiently. Because of the cold rain as of late, everything seemed to be coated with a light frost, even the glowing lights from the ISIS sign on the nearby building. She snorted at that. What kind of place was it anyway? It sounded like some sort of cosmetics company.

With a shaking hand, she managed to pull out a cigarette from her purse. As she searched the junk filled purse for her lighter she missed the sound of heels on the pavement. Just as she pulled the lighter out in triumph a card fell to the ground in front of her. She frowned as looked around to see where it came from. All she could see was a hooded figure in the shadows. She knelt down to pick up the card. “I think you dropped this.”

The figure didn’t move. If the person wanted to be a dick that was their problem. She decided to turn the black card over to see what it was. Blue eyes stared at hers from the card and the last thing she saw as pain filled her senses was that her shadow had fantastic shoes.

*************

Buffy had a headache. Who knew there were a dozen orphanages in Metropolis? She’d gone to four of them today and had found no Sister Margaret or any other new arrivals. She knew the woman was here, she’d managed to trace her to the city through a great many annoyances, such as actually interrogating people in that polite kind of way. But despite her efforts since arriving in Metropolis, the only things of value she had to show for her work was a new hand held custom made crossbow and Oliver Queen’s number. Which most certainly was unexpected but not in the least unwanted.

The slayer was taking a walk down the street from a coffee house she’d just been at and saw the familiar scene of a crowd and flashing police lights. Curious, Buffy worked her way through the gathering crowd of people behind the police blockade that was being set up. There were people standing about trying to get their questions answered and many of them snapping photos, no doubt to post on a blog or similar. Buffy, who was having trouble seeing over some of the taller people around her, finally spotted what the fuss was about. There was body in the alley covered by a sheet as the CSI team took in the crime scene. She snuck past the crowd and managed to find a secluded spot close enough to the alley to overhear what the cops were saying.

“What the hell could have done this?” One of the cops questioned as he stared at the sheet covered body.

His partner shook his head and chewed on a toothpick. “Beats the hell out of me. Her face was gone. Maybe it was one of those meteor freaks.”

“What about that butcher we’ve been trying to catch?”

“Couldn’t be, that guy always leaves a fucking mess. There’s no blood here.”

“So where the hell did it go?”

Buffy inwardly groaned. This was definitely her nun, already in the kill zone again. Any doubt that she’d had about not being in the right locale was nullified when it appeared that the victim matched the M.O from those in Des Moines. She slipped back into the shadows and onto the street again, allowing herself to get lost in the growing crowd of bystanders and gawkers. She looked around and started to make notes about the street she was on. What businesses, etc. Maybe there was a link to her killer around here. She’d have to look into it in the morning.

In the meantime, she was off to do slayer patrol. She’d discovered that there were vampires stupid enough to be in a city with superheroes. After her cruise through the cemeteries she planned on checking out one of the demon bars rumored to be in a place called Suicide Slums. That certainly sounded like a cheery kind of place to go…

Who: Dean and Sam Winchester
When: January 25th
Where: Lincoln, Nebraska
Rating: PG 13
Notes: Sam and Dean are on a road trip. Trying to stop the seals from being opened and the Devil himself from being released. Brothers are investigating mysterious deaths.

Sam was now tied to a chair in Dr. Garrison’s office struggling to get free.

“Why are you doing this,” he asked angrily.

“You men. You’re the cause of all of this. Michael Carmichael was a womanizer. He wasn’t going to change. I was their marriage counselor. For months he was spitting out his drivel of how much he loved her and he’d change. Cutting off ties to the women he was with. But when she wasn’t looking…the way he looked at me…he had to be stopped. When I found this card, and discovered what it could do, I knew we could have our revenge against scum like him.”

“And Spade?”

“Thought he could do what he wanted with all women. Broke their hearts not caring how much it hurt them. Something I’m sure you and your partner know all about. At your core, all you men are alike.”

“Think you’re the one who needs some therapy,” Sam said still trying to break free.

“And I think you shouldn’t push me,” she said holding out the card. “I’ve killed quite a few men with this thing. And once your partner gets here, you’re both going to die.”

Meanwhile…

Dean roared the Impala to the clinic trying to get there as fast as he could. Sam was in serious trouble.

Their code word…Thunderstruck. It was to let the other know they were being held against their will. Things weren’t making much sense until the pieces in Dean’s mind fell together.

Dr. Garrison worked with all the women who’s significant other was killed under the ‘poetic justice’ of Athena. Her partner was leaving with clients, so she had to stop him.

She was behind it all.

Dean hated this part of the job. He and Sam weren’t murderers, so they’d never take a life. Stopping demons, vampires, monsters, and evil spirits they could handle. But finding a way to stop a human without killing them was always easier said than done.

As he parked in front of the building he popped the trunk. Looking at his display of weapons he grabbed his sawed off shot gun and grabbed some rounds before heading upstairs to the good doctor’s office.

Dean scanned the area, it seemed they were all alone here.

Perfect.

Dean ran up and kicked down the doctor’s door and took aim. Sam was tied to a chair and the woman was sitting on the desk flipping the card around her fingers idly. A wicked grin appearing on her face.

“Its about time you showed up.”

Behind her the clouds quickly darkened as lightning began to form.

“Crap,” Dean muttered under his breath. He had to be very careful how he played this or the Winchester boys would be extra crispy like the last guy.

“I know what you’re thinking. And I’d advise against it.”

“Really lady? Then just what the hell am I thinking?”

“Firing that gun…Killing me…saving your partner? That about cover it? You shoot that thing, it better kill me. Cause before I die, I’ll take you and your brother out in a very special way.”

Dean stares her down. He sees the truth in what she’s saying. If he and Sam didn’t do this right, they’d all end up dead.

“Sammy, you okay?”

“Fine…”

“So, you killed those men using that thing? How’d you get it if you don’t mind me asking?”

Keep her talking, Dean thought to himself.

“Auction of some old lady’s estate. Woman probably didn’t even know what she had. Or might have considering how rich she was. Who knows these things really?”

“I get that you want to get back at people who wronged you, but seriously…murder?”

“Just the way the card works. If you ask me, murder was a going easy on them. They deserved so much worse.”

“You really are a wack job you know that?”

“I’m still standing here. And you’re not dead yet, so I’d say I’m not that crazy. But yeah, killing those guys might be crazy to you, but they won’t be hurting anyone else.”

“You get that Sam?”

“Every word,” he replied.

She turned slowly to Sam. He was no longer tied up to the chair and he was holding up his cellphone. He had caught every word of her confession.

Fire raced through her eyes. She was not happy.

“Regular Houdini aren’t you? Lets see if you can get out of this one…”

She squeezed the card and it glowed blood red.

“I don’t think so,” Dean said. He shot her just as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky bursting through the window.

All three hit the ground.

“Sam you okay?”

Sam picked himself up off the ground. “Fine. You?”

“Been better,” Dean said getting up.

“You shot her?”

They both heard a curse.

“Used rock salt rounds. You know we don’t kill people.”

“Big mistake,” Dr. Garrison said standing up.

Her card was in her hand, once again glowing. She tilts her head back and when she brings it back up her hair had snakes on it.

“Well that’s not good,” Dean said getting a little worried.

Her eyes glowed white, Dean and Sam ran and dove over the couch for cover as she shot beams of light from her eyes. The beam misses the brothers but hits the couch…turning it to stone.

“Oh that is REALLY not good,” Dean said. “So, Brainy Smurf got any ideas on how to dodge getting stoned by Medusa over there.”

“Only got one…the mirror on the other end of the room is reflective. Might deflect the beam and hit her.”

“Yeah, if she doesn’t hit us first.”

“Its all we got,” Sam said.

Dean cursed under his breath. “Fine…You better hope this works.”

“On three,” Sam said. Dean nodded.

“Three!”

The brothers ran as if in slow motion. Garrison shot the beams at them as they ran the beam cracking against the glass as they ran. As they reach the mirrored wall they dove to the ground.

The beam hit the mirror and bounced back hitting Dr. Garrison. She let out a painful scream she turned to stone.

Sam looked up carefully seeing that she was now completely stone. His idea had worked.

Dean got up and walked up to it and poked it.

“Damn. Talk about pilar of salt.”

Sam takes the card that is in her hand out of her grip. It was the only thing that wasn’t turned to stone.

“It didn’t turn to stone either,” Dean asked. Sam shook his head. “Well, lets just rip it then.”

“Dean…”

Dean grabs it and tries to rip it up. He struggles with it trying to rip it but it wont rip.

“Damnit.”

“Think that is one evil card Dean.”

“Well then how do you suggest we keep it safe?”

A little while later at their motel, Sam closes a hex box.

“Worked for the rabbits foot. Should work to contain this until we figure out what to do with it,” Sam said placing it into their trunk. “So, where we headed now?”

“Salem. And please no witch jokes. You know I hate those nasty bitches. Read some reports of kids going missing after trying to stay a night at Logan Castle. Abandoned outside of town. It was a reform school…lots of mysterious deaths. Angry sprits. Sounded like a party to me.”

The boys got in the car and Dean cranked up the music.

“But if we run across any witches…we are so out of there,” Dean said putting on his sunglasses as they headed down the road.

The Players : Harley Quinn and Harley Quinn (open)
Where : Metropolis, Kansas.
When : January 30, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language.
Notes : Lois leaves Harley alone in her apartment as she goes into work.



Harley relaxed as much as she could being alone in Lois's apartment. I mean she knew Lois had a life and had to get back to it sooner or later, she couldn't babysit her forever and she appreciated the fact that Lois was showing so much trust in her by leaving her unsupervised in her personal space. The only thing Lois had made her promise was that she wouldn't leave the apartment or call anyone. Lois assured her that she would have taken Harley with her but she was too well known and someone at the paper might recognize her.
Reasonable precautions and Harley fully understood them.

It was just.... Harley was still having strange mental lapses where she would see herself in her mind, in her old costume, extolling the virtues of being the Joker's punching bag. She kept that fact from Lois. Especially after Lois expressed worry about it. The drugs and conditioning that the Joker had put her through was Harley's problem and she didn't want to worry Lois about any more than she already was.


"Gee though, I really hate having no one to talk to." Harley muttered to herself.

Hearing a noise Harley watched with wide eyes as Lois bedroom door opened and Harley saw herself dressed in her old costume come out of there.

"Well you can always talk to me sweety." The costume Harley purred at her. "I can tell you more reasons on why you should go back to Mr. J."

The Harley wearing casual clothing slammed her eyes shut and started repeating over and over as a mantra. "Its just a hallucination caused by that crap the Joker gave me!"

"Oh come on." Costumed Harley said sitting down next to her on the couch. "You know the only real friend you'll ever have was Mr. J. He understands us."

"Me." casual Harley growled. "There is no us. There is just me. A mixed up, mind screwed me but just me."

"Whatever." Costume Harley laughed at her. "You aren't going to escape from me, us. I will always be here. In the back of your mind pointing out why we belong to Mr. J."

Casual Harley pulled into a fetal position on the couch and whimpered.

Who: Ryan Dallion or Ryan the Lion
Where: Curious Goods; Chicago, IL
When: January 29th 2009
What: Ryan reflects on the incident the day before…and finds a new mystery to solve.
Rating: PG-13 for now. Could go to R
Notes: Ryan’s card is uh…oh, The Tower. Fires springing up will be linked to the card. Only he doesn’t know it yet.

Ryan heads downstairs after a long night sleep sipping his coffee. It was his fuel for what would most likely be a long and exhausting day. Those were always the kinds of days they had around here.

He noticed an envelope on the floor. Someone must have been tossed in the mail slot last night because there was nothing there before he went to sleep the night before.

He picked it up and opened it. Inside, was a tarot card.

The Strength Card.

The guy that came with Alli the other day must have found the guy and gotten the card back. Guessing it didn’t end well. After placing the card in the vault, Ryan went out to get a newspaper.

His suspicion was soon confirned when he picked up and read the newspaper’s headline. A man had died of an apparent suicide. While there was nothing overly suspicious there was a mention of high testosterone in his system.

He made a note to try and find the guy later and thank him for getting the card back to the shop. Most people who know what that card could do, would use it to their advantage, but this guy did the right thing.

Also on the front page, there was a front page story about another fire in the downtown area. There had been several fires in that area over the last month. Strangely only a handful of the fires had no explanation.

He had checked the manifest, but there were few items that would fit the mysterious fires. Ryan thought for a moment, and a thought occurred to him. Maybe there was another tarot card out there that was causing this. He picked up a reference book off the shelf and found pictures of tarot cards.

One of which was a church on fire with figures falling to the ground. It would fit. But finding that card in the city would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

He’d have to figure out who would have motive to set these fires, how they were using the card, and most importantly…who was doing it.

Ryan placed a map on a tack board after calling the fire department and asking some questions about the fires he placed blue tacks and red tacks on the board. Blue tacks, fires that had easily determined causes. Red tacks being the buildings that burned down under mysterious circumstances and undetermined causes.

Fires happen, that was a thing you get use to in the city. But fires that seemingly are caused on their own were a different story. Looking at the map it looked like the red tacks were concentrated to one particular area.

Ryan picked up his camera to take outside photos of the mysterious fires…four in total thus far.

After a few hours, his pictures were taken and ready to be loaded onto his computer. But before heading back to the Curious Goods shop, Ryan made a pit stop.

He had been busy with Micki on acquiring some new antiques to sell for the store so he hadn’t been able to make it to the comic book shop for his new comics of the week.

So, he made a quick stop to his local comic book store to get his latest issues and say hello to Alli, his favorite worker at the comic book store. He’d have to remember to thank her and her friend for getting the card.

The Players : Father Anderson (open)
Where : San Francisco
When : January 30, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language.

Father Anderson stood on the steps leading up the Church of Saint Francis of Assisi in San Francisco. Most people would have been awed by the sheer majesty and beauty of the structure but then again Father Anderson was most definitely not most people. For one thing he had seen and lived among the grandeur's of Rome itself and secondly, Anderson just wasn't that impressed by the works of man anyway.

"Wee bit ostentatious for a holy man that took a vow of poverty." Anderson muttered under his breath but loudly enough he got a few glares from tourists that had come to gawk at the large church.

"Bet it even has a gift shop inside." Anderson added sourly as he glared right back at them.

Anderson wasn't there on a sight seeing tour in any case. The head of Section 13: Iscariot had sent Anderson to help deal with some of the odd things happening in the United States and his first mission was to report to this church to receive further orders.

As Anderson made to enter the main door of the church he noticed two flamboyantly dressed men embracing at the front of the church.

"Just how am I suppose to judge what is 'odd' in this country from its normal strangeness?" Anderson questioned looking heavenward.

The Players : Xander Harris
Where : Chicago, IL
When : January 28, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language.

Xander walked towards the bar with his Xander thoughts running around in his head. It had been a weird few days. Meeting both Lois and Alli had been great. Dealing with Simon had not.

Seeing Lois go was kind of sad though. Sure, he just met her, but it was good working with her. If it hadn’t been for the whole Joker thing, they probably would have had a better goodbye than the awkward one they had.

Xander headed downstairs to the bar and smiled at his two co-workers. “Evening ladies. How are my gals?”

“We should be asking you the same thing…we heard what happened. Kind of surprised you’re here. What the hell happened that you were thrown on top of a car,” Mary asked.

“Yeah. Piss off a Terminator,” Wendy asked.

“It’s a long messy story. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Still a bit sore, but otherwise fine.”

“And that girl you left with the other night? Made in progress?”

“Yeah. Like every other woman in the world I’ve met, she left as quickly as she came into my life.”

“Oh?”

“Went back to Metropolis…you know where she lives. I’m sure our paths will cross at some point again.”

“Right,” Wendy said placing a newspaper on the bar. “And Xand, we’re gonna need you in the back in a little bit to bring in the beer mugs.”

Xander took the paper and nodded as he started going through it. When a few articles caught his eye. The front page was all about the Joker robbery. It still made his blood run cold when he saw the Joker with that gun. Also made him nervous. Wondering if the Joker was still around and if he bumped into him, would he try to finish the job.

Xander turned to the back and saw an article about another death…a young woman. The same woman Simon was talking to the other night. Died of a suicide the article said. But something inside Xander was telling him otherwise.

“Looks like he made his third wish,” Xander thought aloud.

Crap. Now he can kill anyone now to get that card to give him strength. No more wishing required. Things just got a lot harder for him.

Why the hell was he even doing this? He’s not the superhero. He had no powers or anything that made him remotely special.

But he knew the answer. It was her.

She changed his life for the better…despite the hell he had both been through and fought. She gave him a purpose. Something to fight for. A purpose without ever having a purpose.

In the end, he did it because it was right. Because now with her being God knows where, he was alone in this city. He saw the things that lurked in the darkness.

He did it because no one else would.

He did it because the only thing that kept him from going crazy with being alone is saving lives, helping people. Ironically, he was still very much alone. Even with his new “sidekick”. That’d even be short lived cause it was how things were in Xander’s life.

“Xander,” Wendy said coming to the back. “Someone out front is looking for you.”

“Is it a pretty blue haired girl,” he asked standing up.

“No, its that guy you helped out a few nights ago. The guy that almost got beat up.”

( Oh FUDGE! )

The Players : Peter Vincent and.. um.. we'll see.
Where : Los Angeles, California.
When : January 26-30, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language.
Notes : Peter is all alone. ALONE!!! There must be a way to fix this.

After the horror show that was last week’s episode of Fright Night, Peter had returned to Los Angeles only to be informed that the studio was shutting down Fright Night for the time being. They would instead show reruns and label them as “classic” episodes until the various investigations on Edgar’s tragic demise were finished. Luckily for Peter he had been across the country when it had happened, leaving him unneeded at best by those in charge.

He’d taken a couple of days rest, trying to decide which was more traumatizing, his co-worker’s death or that damn convention he had attended. He had yet to decide. Be that as it may, as soon as he was well rested he went straight to the library to do some research. He had to use one of those infernal computers and he had yet to purchase one of the damnable things despite how Charley insisted it would change his life. Oh yes, that would be all he needed, another object in his home to remind him of his fading glory.

He sighed and ribbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to sort through the few questionable deaths that seemed to mimic that of Edgar’s. According a tabloid article there was a similar death in Chicago, five years ago. A week later there was one in Metropolis, a week after that there was one in Cleveland, after that, nothing. Peter wondered if it had been some sort of preternatural serial killer. Perhaps it was a master vampire with a sadistic taste for using its hypnosis ability on a poor unfortunate soul.

He leaned back in the uncomfortable chair he was forced to use and cast a suspicious look around the room. He felt as if there were eyes on him and it was starting to unnerve him. What if Edgar’s death had originally been intended for him? He had made several enemies over the years. Perhaps his name was truly traveling those paths of the darker elements in this world and they were finally seeking retribution for his hand in their losses. Were there more Dandridges out there wanting revenge? Or perhaps Regine and Jerry and some fledglings that desired his death.

Or maybe it was merely a coincidence that this happened on his set, in his town. With a frown Peter resumed his research and silently wished Charley were around to handle this chore. He was far better suited to deal with these monstrosities of technology. He’d much rather deal with a damned vampire, it would be far easier.

*******

“Yes, I understand that, but has there been any-” Peter scowled as he spoke to the officer on the phone, “I see. Well, I appreciate your time. Thank you.” He hung up with a frustrated growl and tossed his phone aside, where it landed haphazardly on the worn cushion of his antique sofa.

Peter sat down in his favorite armchair and tapped his foot irritably. He’d been trying to get some confirmation from the local police departments of the three cities that had possible death matches. Unfortunately, he was brushed off each time. This was getting him nowhere.

He reached for his cup of tea, barely noticing that it gone cold over an hour ago. The taste was flat and bitter, but his mind was elsewhere. The more he thought about Edgar, the more his instincts told him that he had to pursue his investigation, despite the fact there was a small voice telling him to leave it alone. To flee. To be that coward he once was and knew he could be.

He was not that man anymore and he had no intention of ever being that again. His gaze drifted toward the movie props that decorated his home. Until he had met Charley they had been nothing more than memories of his career and what could have been. Since then, he had used more than one of the well crafted props in the pursuit to protect lives from the denizens of the damned. No, he could not be the coward and fop he once was.

“I am Peter Vincent.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Fearless vampire killer. And I will put you at peace, young Edgar. That I promise.”

The Players : Lois Lane, Harley Quinn, Clark Kent...
Where : Metropolis, Kansas.
When : January 29, 2009.
Rating : PG13 – R for language.
Notes : Lois has been on a train with Harley Quinn for ten hours... and those hours may remain a mystery. HA.

It was wet and rainy morning in Metropolis. The heavy rain was only matched by the bitter cold that came with it and the mood of one Lois Lane. Lois sat on a bench as she tried to wake herself up with a second cup of coffee. She was extremely cranky and unhappy… Though it was surprisingly not caused by a ten hour train ride with one Harley Quinn. No, her mood was caused by the absentee known as Clark Kent. Before they’d boarded the train, she’d texted him and gotten his confirmation that he’d pick them up. Of course, they’d been waiting for a half hour now.

Lois grunted from behind her drink. It figured she couldn’t rely on Clark to follow through. It was as if everything just started to fall apart around the time of Chloe’s wedding. Before then, everyone had been fine. But what should have been a happy time just seemed to be the final warning signal that it was time to take that ride to hell in a hand basket.

She cast a look at Harley who was exploring their little niche in the station with wide eyes, much like a tourist. She’d woken Lois up from her nap when they’d almost hit Metropolis. She’d pointed out some of the landmarks and asked questions about some of the newer buildings she didn’t recognize, all while commenting that the city was still brighter than Gotham. Lois sighed and grabbed her bag and stood up from her seat. “Smallville is obviously going to be a no show.” She tried not to sound as disappointed as she suddenly felt. “We’d better go fetch a cab.”

Lois tried to ignore that sinking sensation she felt when she gave up on Clark as she waited for Harley to join her in the trek to the station exit. She hated that even despite her common sense to the situation, she wanted to trust him and give him the benefit of the doubt. And when her doubt was proven, she somehow still felt bad about it, as if it was something she had done. How the hell did he manage to do that to her?

She shook those thoughts off as best she could. They had to get to her apartment and then she’d deal with Clark and whatever he may have found. At least she could count on him for anything that didn’t concern her specifically. Maybe it was just a sign of how things should work…