Lois was leaning next to the telescope looking up at the night sky. "It's a nice clear night. That's the one drawback about Metropolis - you can't see the sky like this at night."

"That's not the only drawback," Clark challenged.

"You're right," Lois agreed as she turned around to face Clark and Chloe, who were both seated on the couch. "You can also lose parts of your memory in Metropolis. I doubt you can do that here."

"You'd be surprised," Chloe muttered.

Clark looked upset and turned to Chloe. "Is that why you brought her here? To grill me about something that happened two weeks ago?"

"Hey!" Chloe cried. "Ever heard the saying 'don't kill the messenger?' She just showed up and said she had to come here, so I said I'd go with her. I didn't know why - I don't even know what happened two weeks ago. Somebody want to clue me in?"

Clark ignored Chloe's request and rose to address Lois. "I told you what I knew about it," he spat. "And you're the one who followed me! I should be interrogating you, about all these phone calls and now just dropping in like this! What is it that you think I can tell you?"

Chloe watched the scene unfold in confusion, and slightly frightened by Clark's anger, which she'd only seen when he discovered how deeply she herself had tried to pry into his life. Now it appeared that her cousin had committed the same offense, and Clark's defensiveness only served to confirm her suspicions that he was hiding something monumental.

"Oh, come off it, Kent!" Lois exclaimed with a fire of her own. "Something about what you told me doesn’t add up, and need I remind you that you haven't actually taken a single one of my calls. What choice did I have?"

"You could have accepted what I told you and let it go."

"Oh yeah, I'm just going to accept that I lost three hours of my memory and you and some girl happened to bring me home, and that's all you know about it."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense!"

"How doesn't it make sense?"

"Well, for starters, my suitcase."

"I agree, your suitcase is inexplicable."

Chloe smiled despite the gravity of the conversation. Nice one, Clark. When did you get so good at verbal tennis?

Lois growled in exasperation. "Chris said you carried me in."

"Yeah, that's been established."

"But you didn't have my suitcase."

"Sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to be able to carry you and the world's largest suitcase."

"How did you get me and my suitcase from my the bus station to my building?"

"We took a cab."

"And we all fit? You, me, Marin, and my suitcase?"

"The suitcase was in the trunk. It didn't quite fit so I suggested putting you in there instead, but the driver wouldn't let me."

"Who's Marin?" Chloe piped up, although she was starting to enjoy the argument.

Lois answered Chloe without looking away from Clark. "Oh, she's an old friend of his, isn't that right, Clark?"

"No she's not, she's a - nevermind. Anyway yeah, we all fit in the cab. What's your point?"

"My point is that Chris saw you, Marin, and me - no suitcase."

"I left it outside the door - for some reason I thought getting you inside the building was more important."

"Chris saw you leave. You never brought it in."

"We did leave, but then we remembered the suitcase. He had already left the lobby to take you upstairs."

"Then where did you leave the suitcase?" Lois knew full well that Chris had found it the next morning in the utility closet.

Clark racked his brain, knowing that question was a test. The only way out was to have no way of knowing. "I don't know, Marin was the one who went back for it. She brought it in."

"Ha! You expect me to believe your farm-boy sensibilities allowed you to let a girl carry that thing?"

"I let you do it, didn't I? Besides, somebody informed me that Metropolis girls manage just fine with no - how did you put it? Hay-balin' muscle?"

Damn, he got me. I can't prove anything this way. "Oh, you… ugh! I know there's something you're not telling me."

"You're right, I'm sorry. You were actually held captive in an alien research facility, where they erased your memory so you'd forget everything you saw."

Lois looked disgusted and hit Clark's shoulder. "Don't be so… high school."

Lionel had long-since abandoned the Daily Planet in favor of the reams of data that Dr. Ripley had given him. He devoured each page, growing both more hungry and sated in the knowledge that his suspicions about Clark Kent had not been unfounded.

"Why are you bringing this to me?"

"Dr. Swann has the resources, but he lacks the foresight to take advantage of what stands to be gained from this endeavor. You, on the other hand, have both. I knew you would understand what needs to done."

Lionel continued to peruse Dr. Ripley's synopsis, trying not to look too pleased by the information, and given his prolific experience in high-stakes negotiation, it wasn't difficult. "And what is it that you expect me to do from behind bars?"

Dr. Ripley gave Lionel his dastardly grin again. "Your reach is no shorter from here than it is anywhere else."

Lionel nodded, matter-of-factly. "That may be so. Is this all of the data you were able to take with you?"

Dr. Ripley nodded affirmatively. "Yes, except for the samples."

"The samples?"

"Yes, fluid and tissue. They're in a cooler in my car, but they can't stay there long."

"Of course not. I expect to have those properly stored within the hour. Now, about the circumstances of your departure from Dr. Swann. I must admit that this news disappoints me, Dr. Ripley."

Dr. Ripley looked befuddled. "I don't understand."

"While I do applaud the boldness of your intervention with Ms. Blake's… condition, I'm troubled that you didn't verify the facts beforehand."

"She falsified the report, I had no way of knowing it wasn't true!" Dr. Ripley was aghast and defensive.

"Indeed, her report is thorough and convincing. A fine piece of fiction. But I'm sure you could have found another way to know what happens behind closed doors, Dr. Ripley. Given your apparent attraction to subversive ethics." Dr. Ripley opened his mouth to protest, but Lionel held up a hand to give him pause. "Now, don't misunderstand - I certainly don't disapprove of the subversion, but facts are facts, and we must all be judged by them. I must judge you by the fact that you acted rashly - carelessly, in fact, without enough regard for your position. The beauty of your plan was that - had Ms. Blake and Mr. Kent completed the trial, you could have observed the progression of her pregnancy, and kept yourself above suspicion."

"But I did get out with all of the data, and all of the samples. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Indeed it does," Lionel answered languidly, stroking his chin. "Indeed it does. Just not quite enough, I'm afraid."

"What are you saying?" Dr. Ripley was finally starting to lose his unwavering confidence.

"I'm saying that actions taken without proper consideration of all the variables can have dire consequences. You're a scientist, Dr. Ripley. Surely you're not unfamiliar with consideration of variables."

Dr. Ripley swallowed thickly, but couldn't speak.

"You should have known better."

"I - "

"In fact, you did know better, but you did not make enough of an effort to be certain, and as a result you lost a precious opportunity. That shows weakness, Dr. Ripley, which I can not abide."

"But Mr. Luthor - " Dr. Ripley was panicked now, while Lionel continued to appear indifferent, as if he were discussing nothing more weighty than the weather.

"Weakness makes you a liability, Dr. Ripley."

"Mr. Luthor, please, I can - "

Lionel held up his hand again to silence him, and then beckoned to the guard at the door. "Would you please have the good doctor escorted back to his vehicle?" The guard nodded to Lionel with a glimmer of understood purpose in his eye, and gripped the arm of the astonished Dr. Ripley as he led him to the door. "Oh, Dr. Ripley?" Lionel called, making it sound like an afterthought. "I thought you should know you were right."

"A… about what?"

"My reach does extend far beyond these bars."

As Lionel continued to flip through the pages, the guard returned from his errand.

"Has the good doctor been taken care of?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor."

"And the samples?"

"En route to your warehouse, sir."