(Smallville town square, Smallville)
Lana Lang cradled the large bouquet of flowers. She was going to place fresh flowers at the stone monument at the centre of town. The monument honoured those Smallville citizens who had died during the horrific meteor shower in 1989, including her parents.
She was surprised to find Clark and Bruce there. Lex, Bruce and Oliver had spent last night at the Luthor estate celebrating their victory over Lionel. Clark had stopped by to visit them, but came home early.
"I felt just like a fly on the wall," Clark explained later. "They probably saw more of me this whole week than they would like."
Lana placed the flowers in front of the monument. Bruce had already laid a wreath, wrapped with big, blue ribbon embossed with the words: From the Wayne Foundation, in memory of those whose lives were lost in Smallville, 1989.
"The mayor offered to have a formal ceremony," Bruce stated, "but I'm not a fan of pomp and circumstance. A quiet moment is more of my style."
"It's important to remember those who have gone on before us," Lana replied.
In his pocket, Bruce clutched the precious tarnished locket with his parents' photo. "Yes, it is important to remember. They made us who we are today."
"It was all a blur when they buried my parents," Lana replied. "I was only a child then. I don't think I really understood how much they meant to me until I was a little older. It was a mix of feelings. Anger, sadness, frustration, anxiety. It was definitely a confusing time in my life."
"And how did you deal with it?" Bruce wondered. Clark grinned slightly. He had hoped that Lana's experiences might help Bruce cope with the loss of his own parents.
"I don't think you ever stop dealing with it," Lana replied. She adjusted the bouquet of flowers beside the Wayne wreath. "I mean, I'm mad that the meteor shower killed my parents, but I know that it was a freak of nature. Nothing could have stopped it." Clark winced at that last sentence. His arrival in Smallville had caused all this destruction, and he couldn't bring himself to admit that to anyone. Not even to Lana Lang.
"It just doesn't make sense to stay angry at something which you have no control over," Lana admitted. She beamed at Bruce. "It's too exhausting to remain angry forever. We have to get on with our lives, and I know my parents wouldn't want me to live my life with clenched fists all the time."
"Then you've found your peace," Bruce muttered. "That is something … I can never hope to have."
"But why not?" Clark insisted. "It's not your fault that your parents were killed in Crime Alley – anymore than it wasn't Lana's fault the meteors killed her parents."
"It's not the same," Bruce argued. "I'm sorry to be so blunt, Lana. I know you and Clark only want to help. But it is not the same. The meteor shower, as you said, was a freak of nature. An act of God. There was no malice behind those terrible deaths. It was an accident. You can deal with an accident."
Bruce strolled around the monument. The sky was bleak with grey clouds and a howling wind. "My parents' death was no accident. There's a piece of scum out there who planned to rob my parents. He shot them in cold blood. And for what? A few dollars and a pearl necklace? My life as I knew it ended the day they told me my parents were murdered. That's no act of God. It's a crime! And crimes must be punished."
"But you said they never found the killer," Clark replied. "When are you going to let go of that anger? That hate? There's nothing you can do about it."
Bruce studied the names of the victims engraved on the monument. Accidents could be explained. Crimes, however, demanded action. Retribution. "That's where you're wrong Clark. I can do something about it. I can make sure that what happened to me doesn't happen to anyone else. Ever."
Clark didn't understand what Bruce meant, but he was always cryptic about such things.
"Please don't misunderstand, Lana," Bruce explained. "I'm glad you've found a way to deal with the loss of your parents. I'm just not there at this point. I may never find that peace. It's a journey I have to travel, alone."
Lana squeezed Bruce's arm supportively and walked down the main street to the Talon.
"You're not alone, Bruce," Clark clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll always have friends in Smallville."
"I know, and thank you," Bruce replied. He looked around the square. "Clark, have you seen Alfred?"
"No, I haven't," Clark answered. He left Bruce at the monument and drove around. He looked everywhere in town. The Wayne company car was nowhere to be seen. At the hearing, Alfred seemed to be preoccupied with Lionel's movements. Clark shrugged it off at the time, but now he was concerned. Lionel was Thomas Wayne's enemy, and it remained Alfred's duty to regard Lionel with contempt. Would Alfred Pennyworth – a former British soldier and intelligence agent – set aside his butler duties and take the law into his own hands?
He stopped his truck near the Talon. The Wayne company car was there, but Alfred wasn't around. Clark looked around the street. Everyone had stayed indoors, since the weather was getting worse. He used his x-ray vision to examine the car's glove compartment. If the pistol wasn't there, that meant that Alfred was going to do the unthinkable.
He gasped. The pistol appeared to be gone! Then, he checked the other glove compartment. He sighed in relief: the Walther P99 was encased in the compartment. The bullets were undisturbed. The former British spy didn't take up his lethal profession. He hoped Alfred's past life would stay where it belonged – beneath the rubble of the Berlin Wall.
In the Talon, Alfred savoured the Earl Grey tea and scones. Compliments of Chloe Sullivan.
"I tried to contact you after the hearing," Chloe said, "but you disappeared. You weren't with Bruce and the others, so where did you go?"
Alfred paused. He wanted to tell her that he was so close to crossing the line between guardian and scoundrel. That he was planning to kill Lionel. But those were his personal demons. He would answer for those deeds on Judgment Day, not now. And he certainly would not answer to an inquisitive high school student from rural Kansas.
"Unrelated business," Alfred replied abruptly. "At Wayne Enterprises' offices in Metropolis."
Chloe shrugged. "Oookay. I'll buy that. I gather that you didn't invite me here for afternoon tea and to discuss Prince William's succession to the English throne?"
Alfred pulled out a wrapped box. "I wanted to give you something. In gratitude for your work. You took quite a few risks. You shouldn't have to take on such dangers. In heaven's name, you're not even 18!"
Chloe smiled and opened the shiny box. "Trust me, in a town like Smallville, danger is always around the corner." A large, hardcover book was inside. A shiny, metallic bookmark and a loose-leaf paper were tucked in the front cover. She read the cover of the spy novel: The Little Drummer Girl, by John Le Carre.
There was a hand-written inscription on the loose-leaf paper:
"To my little drummer girl, Chloe,
For standing your ground and keeping the faith.
It was an honour to serve beside you.
With affection,
Falconer"
Suddenly, Chloe realized that she was not alone. Lionel could threaten her and her dad, the secrets in Smallville may yet plunge the entire town into chaos … yet, she had survived. Her secretive work with Alfred had proved to her that it was alright to fight for what you believe in. Even if the world seemed to be against you. She choked back a tear.
"I – I don't know what to say," Chloe stammered. She studied the elaborate, metal bookmark. It was embossed with an icon of a female knight in medieval armour, with a cross in one hand and a sword in the other. Underneath the icon was a banner: Ste. Jeanne d'Arc.
"Joan of Arc?" Chloe beamed. "The bookmark, it's beautiful!"
"Warrior maid of Orleans," Alfred added, "Scourge of the English and saviour of the French Crown. Burned at the stake, but immortal in legend. She stood for what she believed in, whatever the cost. I immediately thought of you. It was a gift from a lady-friend of mine in France."
"A 'lady friend', eh?" Chloe inquired coyly. "Oh, do tell."
"As you've long known," Alfred joked, "my private life is out of bounds of your inquiries, Miss Sullivan."
Chloe snapped up one of the last scones. "So I'm back to being Chloe Sullivan, editor of the Torch. Nothing but updates on cheerleader tryouts, the school play and the winter formal. Exciting stuff, eh?"
Alfred sipped one last drop of tea. "I suspect far greater things from you, Chloe. You might be a high school editor and I might be a mere butler, but we are comrades-in-arms now. You will always be my friend in Smallville. I'd be honoured if I could be your friend in Gotham City."
Chloe smiled from ear-to-ear and hugged Alfred. "I'm going to miss you, Alfred," she replied, barely containing her sadness. She always felt safe with him around. Once Bruce and Alfred left, she would be alone once more to battle Lionel's schemes.
"Thank you, Chloe," replied a misty-eyed Alfred, "for showing an old cold warrior what it means to fight for the truth again."
"I'm concerned," Chloe admitted. "About what lies ahead." She held her breath, but it was too late. The fearful words just came out.
"Know this, Chloe," Alfred replied sternly, "If Lionel ever threatens you, Clark or your friends, I will consider that an assault against Master Bruce himself. Lionel and I will have a reckoning one day, and he will rue the day he threatens any friend of Bruce's. If you're ever in peril, please call my personal number. It's untraceable, as you know."
He put on his fedora hat and walked towards the Talon exit. He paused at the door. "Chloe? Can you trust Lex? Is he what he seems to be?"
Chloe was caught off-guard by the inquiry. "Umm, Lex? He hates Lionel more than anyone! Whether I'd trust him with my life is another story."
"Perhaps you have more allies than you realize," Alfred suggested mysteriously. He tipped his hat. "I bid you adieu, Miss Sullivan." He waved goodbye and drove away. Bruce and Oliver were due to fly today to Star City, where they would begin their campaign to reclaim the rest of Queen's empire from LuthorCorp.
Chloe thought about what Alfred said. Maybe I do have some allies, even here in Smallville.
(Smallville main street, Smallville)
Pete and Oliver returned from a morning of motocross racing, with their cycling jerseys covered in mud.
Clark grinned at his filthy friends. "How was the motorbike race?"
Oliver grinned. "Your buddy, Pete, gave me a run for my money! Maybe this spring, you guys can come over to the west coast. We can hit the California racing circuit."
"Man, that sounds too cool!" Pete smiled. "This summer's gonna be awesome, Clark." He raced back to the Torch office. Clark was happy that Pete finally got the chance to meet his extreme sports idol. He couldn't spend more time with Ollie because of the Crows' playoff run. Unfortunately, the Huskies squeaked by the Crows 61-58. The Crows' basketball season was over, but their post-season run gave Pete plenty of by-lines in the Torch.
Alfred had arrived with the car. Bruce was slowly making his way back from the monument.
"Hi Alfred," Clark shook the butler's hand. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to hang out more, with the hearing and everything. I hope you were able to get your stuff done in Metropolis."
Alfred thought about how close he was to killing Lionel in the underground garage. He had averted a disaster, for now. "Everything has unfolded as it should. You're a good friend to him, Clark. Perhaps you should consider visiting Master Bruce in Gotham City again. He would be pleased if you did."
Clark was relieved that Alfred had left his high-stakes spying career in the past. "Maybe someday."
Bruce greeted Clark with a wave, and shook his hand. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but Ollie, Lex and I have much work ahead of us. It's going to take some time, but I think we can get Queen Enterprises back. Lex had to return to Metropolis, but he's going to join us in Star City tomorrow. Then, the battle for Queen's legacy begins."
"Take care of yourself, Bruce," Clark shook Bruce's hand again. "You know, I'm only a phone call or email away."
"One other thing, Clark," Bruce picked up a file from the backseat of the car. "I'm working on some plans, nothing concrete yet. It's a non-governmental organization. I haven't decided if it's going to be UN-affiliated or something independent. I've already got Ollie on board, plus some of the country's leading scientists, Olympians and thinkers. If it gets off the ground, we could do some good in the world."
Clark skimmed through the file. "That's great! Uhh, what is it?"
"Tell me what you think," Bruce waved goodbye, as he stepped into the backseat of the car with Oliver, "and we'll see where we go from there. I'd like your honest opinion on it."
When the Wayne company car pulled away from the curb, Chloe arrived from the Talon and nudged Clark in the shoulder.
"More proofreading homework from Bruce Wayne?" Chloe inquired. "With Oliver Queen on your phone list, you now have a hat trick of billionaire buddies! Very interesting. There's something about you, Clark Kent, that you're not telling me."
"I'm just a likeable guy, that's all," Clark grinned sheepishly. Somehow, he managed to salvage his friendship with Lex, Bruce and Oliver – despite the odds.
"I guess so!" Chloe replied. "My interview with that Capitol Hill intern from Smallville turned out okay: he waffled on continental ballistic missile defence, but I think the Crows' surprise playoff run wins the coveted banner headline. I'll probably have to console Pete over the Crows' loss to the Huskies, but I think his front-page story will make him feel better. I'll see you at the Torch."
Clark walked towards his truck, browsing through the hefty file from Bruce.
Clark read its contents: "A proposal for the formation of a Society dedicated to the pursuit of Justice for all Americans." It sounded impressive.
"The group could be called a 'league for justice', or maybe a 'justice society of America'," Clark wondered aloud. It was a massive undertaking, and Clark wasn't sure what to make of it or where this Justice Society might lead.
But a justice society seemed like a great idea to him.
THE END