A lot of the episode has to do with disguises and identities. That's actually been a common theme for much of this season, but things are coming to a head now. First we have Clark who's been feeling emboldened by the fall of the VRA. He's making risky saves all over the world and getting himself noticed. When people back in Metropolis start connecting the dots, Lois tries to convince him to wear a hoodie and sunglasses as part of his superhero disguise. He doesn't like that idea so he decides, at this very late date, to use Clark Kent as his disguise and the Blur as his real identity. This involves suddenly wearing thick glasses and acting like a dork at work, which somehow erases everyone's memories of the last 25 years of his existence or something.
In a parallel plot, Chloe and Oliver are struggling with their own identity issues. She struggles with the loss of hers and Oliver struggles with living in the shadows again. They go so far as to pretend to be "the Joneses," taking over for a couple who don't make their dinner reservation at the club. This gets them kidnapped by the FBI, who are looking for the real Mr. and Mrs. Jones, who are agents investigating a string of murders linked to Desaad. (They synchro-fight the FBI before realizing they were good guys and it's a pretty fun scene.) Sadly, they learn that the Joneses and others have been killed by Desaad when he couldn't corrupt them. Chloe then is captured by Desaad who tries to use the seven deadly sins (sloth, pride, lust, etc.) against her, but she remains steadfast in resisting him. Clark and Oliver track her down and while Clark is "incorruptible," Oliver gives in to his anger when Desaad confesses to killing Chloe. She's actually fine, of course, and her relationship with Oliver seems finally to be on the right track... right up until we catch a glimpse of Darkseid's omega mark on Oliver's skull.
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Previously on Smallville: Clark finally told Lois that he's the Blur and she was pleased as punch; he proposed and she accepted; Oliver came out to the public as Green Arrow; he pined for Chloe when she disappeared herself; Chloe returned and explained that the Fate helmet warned her to stay away; Clark figured out that "the darkness" was marking its "fully taken-over" victims with an Omega symbol on their skulls; Clark was worried that the darkness would infect everyone on the planet if they couldn't stop it; Granny Goodness, Godfrey the radio personality and Desaad were park of Darkseid's "unholy trinity."
Currently on Smallville: It's a mostly sunny day in Metropolis, with fluffy cotton clouds drifting across the sky where normally we see the permanently full moon. Inside the Daily Planet basement, Lois has rigged up a little church diorama, complete with wee altar, minuscule candles and little paper dolls to represent their wedding guests. She's on the phone with Clark while she plots and plans. She totally lies and goes on about how much she doesn't want to be doing this. Clark can tell she's fibbing even over the phone. She arranges itty-bitty bride and groom dolls at the altar. "Tiny Lois has 37 possible guests on her side," she says. "Do you know how many many Tiny Clark has on his?" "Just... Tiny Martha?" he asks sheepishly. Does this sad sack not have any friends besides his own mother? Also, shouldn't they be more concerned with the fact that Lionel Luthor is now their boss and could expose Clark at any moment? Apparently not, because Lois's main concern seems to be that Clark having a bunch of the "super friends" attend the wedding will cause problems with her father and his military cronies. She starts arranging little paper dolls of Green Arrow, Aquaman and Impulse to Tiny Martha. "It's a recipe for disaster!" she says. "All it takes it one wrong person recognizing the wrong face and... bam!" If her father's friends are as stupidly unobservant as her Planet coworkers who are currently walking by this diorama with nary a clue, then they probably have little to worry about. Aquaman could break into a sexy water dance scene like Flashdance in the vestibule and no one would bat an eye.
Clark assures her that everything will work out. Why would Lois invite any anti-vigilante people anyway? This is dumb. Lois says it's easy for Clark not to worry when he's calling from... "Where the hell are you, anyway?" She hears police sirens from his end of the connection. "Just running some errands," he says. We cut to Clark, wearing his Blur outfit, standing in front of the big, glowing watch face of Big Ben. Lois pegs him for being in England. He feigns innocence, but she tells him she's looking at him online. Clark makes an "oopsie!" face and super-zips all the way from Merrie Olde England to Metropolis as we watch a little red blur whoosh across the globe. He pops into the office, now wearing street clothes. [The fact that he did that in only a few seconds makes his late arrival on the scene of his mother's shooting even more ridiculous. - Zach] When Lois calls him "Smallville," he figures he must be in trouble. "How bad is it?" Lois shows him footage of himself standing on the rooftop of a fairly low building. He's just... standing there while an assembled crowed watches him from the streets below. They say things like "across the pond" and "chap" in Wallace & Gromit voices, so you know they're English. Clark continues to just loaf about on the roof, only partially hidden in shadows. Fool deserves to be outed. Lois then shows him news reports of his heroic gallivanting from all over the world. Apparently, Clark went blurring around Turkey, Argentina and China, the latter of which Lois declines to comment on because she would "just sound racist." As they fret over Clark revealing his identity, the wedding diorama is on full display behind them as coworkers continue to bustle all around. Either they need to realize people are idiots and just relax or they need to stop shooting themselves in the foot and complaining about it.
Clark drops heavily into a nearby chair, admitting he got "a little enthusiastic" after the VRA ended. He tries to focus on the positive, which is that he saved people without really getting caught. She shows Clark the layout of his front-page article, headlined "Heroes Hidden No More," complete with a byline photo of his dorky smiling face. Clark is confused, because this was supposed to be out two days ago. Why does Lois still have it? [And does he not read the paper every day, or notice when his articles don't run? - Z] Lois takes a red pen and draws a circle around the word "heroes" and around Clark's picture. "The whole world is starting to wonder who the Blur is, and you're so close to the story that you might find yourself smack-dab in the middle of it." His face goes all confused, so Lois spells it out for him: "I think it's high time we got you a new disguise." Clark looks slightly aghast. Somebody save him from his own damned self! Also, I bet they totally leave that "hero = Clark" paper lying to the diorama for any old idiot to find.
Back from the commercials. Some bouncy guitar music is playing as we get an aerial shot of the city at night. Our POV moves to the inside of an elevator as the doors open on a fancy restaurant. Or is this that Ace of Clubs place? Even if it is, let's pretend it's not, simply because it has such a terrible name. As we step out of the elevator, a young man who'd been standing around talking to a long-haired blond suddenly does a little double-take in our direction. We must look pretty hot. A young woman on our right gives us an appreciative look, as does the handsome fellow behind her. We must look very hot. As we make our way past the hostess and navigate through the bar area, all eyes turn to take in our smoking hottitude. The camera finally swivels and moves around to reveal Chloe as the object of all this attention. She's wearing a bright red, one-shouldered cocktail dress and carrying a sparkly clutch. She scans the crowd and smiles when she finds her target sitting at the bar. She sidles up to this mystery man, licks her lips, and says, "You know, I'm supposed to be meeting someone here." So far, we only see his long fingers wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey. "Oliver Queen, of all people," she goes on, giving him a flirty look. "Even with the Registration Act behind him, the world still knows him as the Green Arrow." She scooches closer to this stranger, finally allowing us a look at him. He is tall and obviously handsome, even behind ridiculous sunglasses and rakishly tilted fedora. He seems vaguely familiar. The stranger guesses that Green Arrow only goes out in public with silly disguises now. Also, didn't he lose his company to Lionel Luthor? "You wouldn't want to have dinner with me in his place, would you?" Chloe asks. The two-timing hussy! The stranger wonders what her tough-guy "boyfriend" would say about that. Chloe says she doesn't call him her boyfriend. The stranger takes off his sunglasses and -- braces yourselves, everyone, because it's a huge shock -- he's actually Oliver Queen! Told you it was shocking! With just a pair of glasses he became completely unrecognizable. It was as if all my memory of his past appearances suddenly vanished!
Oliver and Chloe give each other lusty smiles for a while, leaning closer to each other. "I think Oliver Queen would be an absolute fool," Oliver says, "to let someone like you get away." She gives him a megawatt grin and agrees. As they move in for a kiss, the hostess walks up behind them. "Table for the Joneses," she calls out, looking around. Oliver whispers to Chloe that he'd have no problem getting a table as himself. "But your brown-haired rendezvous can't even get on the list." Oh, so that's why his hair looks darker lately. I thought the show's budget nixed his Sun-In treatments. Chloe tries to make the best of it, teasing him about how much fun they can have as other people. When the hostess again calls out again, Chloe claims that they're the Joneses. It takes a split second for Oliver to catch on. The hostess doesn't look like she really believes them, but nor does she look like she really cares. She leads them to their table where champagne is already chilling. "We shouldn't be doing this," Oliver says. Chloe sees it as the universe's gift to them. "What's the worst that could happen?" she asks, dooming them both. [Clearly, neither of them have seen Date Night. - Z] They clink champagne glasses and smile at each other, not quite able to hear the sound of the universe laughing at them over the din of the music.
Clark's hayloft. Lois is wearing a darling white shirt with tiny ruffles around the neckline. Clark is not as sartorially lucky. Lois has sewn a red hood into his leather Blur jacket and given him sunglasses. He stands there, arms folded over his chest, pouting like his mother has just insisted he wear a tie on the first day of school. "Tell me how you feel," she says. "I feel like I can't believe you did this to my jacket," he pouts. He whines that the hood won't stay up during super-speed and he can't see at night with the sunglasses. Buddy, if the inner thighs of your pants haven't caught fire at super-speed by now, I think it's pretty safe to say that everything you wear is exempt from the laws of physics. Also, Oliver sees through his sunglasses at night and, much like Corey Hart, he is a mere human being. Suck it up, super-powered alien whiner. Lois suggests a bobby pin for the hood and X-ray vision for the glasses. She points him toward the mirror and asks him to humor her. "I don't wanna wear a mask," he says. She points out how many more people he's saving now, after spending so much time in the shadows. He insists he's not going to stop saving people, as if that's what she suggested. She points out the same thing. He unceremoniously rips the hood out of his jacket. Lois reminds him about Oliver's decision to come forward. "Sooner or later, someone's gonna put two and two together," Lois says. And it's been almost ten years, which is about how long it takes these people to do simple math. Lois is genuinely worried about what will happen to Clark, reminding him that "Oliver went from two identities to one... to none!" Clark finally looks a bit thoughtful. Lois promises to stand beside him, but doesn't think that's the kind of life Clark would really want. She peers up at him, begging with her eyes. "You know, I should get to work," he announces. He tries to step around her, but she blocks him. "You do not get to whoosh your way out of this one," she says. "Why don't I save you the trouble and super-speed off all on my own?" she asks. She heads down the stairs and goes "whoosh!" complete with jazz hands. Heh.
Date night. Chloe and Oliver are just finishing up their yummy dinner when the hostess approaches the table. She hands Oliver a phone. "Phone call from your wife, Mr. Jones," she says. She turns to Chloe. "If you'd like my advice? You catch a cab and let him take that limo of his back home... alone." She gives Oliver a withering look and walks away. Chloe tries to look serious for all of a moment, then busts up laughing. Oliver, seeing the joke through to the end, holds the phone up to his ear and says chipperly, "Hello, Dear!" He makes a funny face, shrugs and mouths to Chloe, "I don't know." She stifles another laugh behind her hand. This heretofore fun date night suddenly comes to an end when we get a look at Mrs. Jones. She's in a dark church or someplace with stained-glass windows. She's soaked from head to toe, her hair and pretty blue dress a mess. "I know this line isn't secure, but you weren't answering your cell," she says, near tears. "I found them." Them are the poor souls who are hanging by their wrists from the ceiling of this place, their bodies wrapped in plastic. Rain leaks through the ceiling. "I don't think I have much longer," she says. A stone gargoyle perches above her. In the restaurant, Oliver grows serious. "Who is this?" She doesn't answer because she's busy trying to free one of the victims, a man whose mouth has been taped shut. She pulls at the ropes binding his wrists. Blood begins to trickle from his eyes and nose. As she watches helplessly, the same thing happens to Mrs. Jones. "He found me," she says. She screams. Oliver tries to get more out of her, but she's lying dead on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head. A gloved hand picks up her phone. "Don't worry, Mr. Jones, you'll be joining her soon enough," says a fashionably scruffy chin with an English accent. "Oliver, what is it?" Chloe asks. "I'm pretty sure Mrs. Jones just died," he says. Mr. Jones, he tells her, is going to be . They give each other serious looks. A quick cut back to the ruined church shows the evil-doer dropping Mrs. Jones's plastic-wrapped body to the floor among a dozen or so others. So... this means there's no time for dessert?
They're already in mid-investigation as they leave the restaurant. Chloe's already checked with the hostess and found out the number on file for the reservation matched the number Mrs. Jones called from. They stand in the street for a moment, unsure of what to do . Then Oliver sees the Jones limo and gets an idea. How did he know it was the right limo? Perhaps he has a heretofore-unmentioned super power of being able to tell which car goes with what people. It's like... parking valet mojo. The two slide into the back seat. Chloe's already telling the driver they don't care about whatever the arrangements were. Oliver starts to tell them they need to get back to the Joneses -- er, his place -- but shuts up when he realizes two men are already in the back of the limo. And they're both pointing guns at the newcomers. "Mr. Jones," one of them says. "We've been looking for you." Chloe and Oliver give each other "oh shit!" looks. What a tangled web we weave when we pretend to be someone else in order to score a table at a fancy restaurant. I believe Sir Walter Scott said that.
Church. It's a crime scene now, with dozens of cops, coroners and forensics on the job. A man is just zipping up the body bag over the corpse of Mrs. Jones. Clark arrives on the scene and holds up his press badge for a young policeman. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Kent," the guy says, waving him inside. Clark seems surprised to have been allowed access without any difficulty. As he makes his way through the crowd, another cop tips his hat toward him, calls him "Mr. Kent" with obvious respect. A cherubic little guy in a coroner's jacket and camera bounces up to him. "Clark Kent!" he calls out, all grins and gasps like he's just stumbled into a celebrity sighting. Clark doesn't immediately recognize him. "Bert," the cherub says, gesturing at himself. "Weren't you at that crime scene the other day? The one with the, uh...?" When he searches for the words, Clark finishes, "Robbery-homicide?" Bert is just so excited that Clark is acknowledging his presence. Clark asks Bert why the bodies weren't discovered till now. Apparently, they were found in the sewers and dumped up here just a few hours ago, according to bubbly Bert. Clark wants to know if there are any leads, but Bert says the coroner hasn't weighed in yet. Also, Bert doesn't really seem that interested in the carnage around him. There's something else he'd much rather talk about: "Hey, have you seen that viral clip of the Blur from London?" Clark looks up from his note-taking. "Because it was fuzzy," Bert giggles, "but it looked so much like you." Clark says he "doesn't pay attention to what happens halfway around the world." Yeah, he's an American journalist! Clark thanks Bert (much to Bert's delight) and tries to go on with his work, but his new best friend is close on his heels. Bert wants Clark's take on the scene. "Looks like a serial killer," Clark says. Bert lowers his squeaky voice and echoes Clark's words. He fangirls over how awesome Clark is and all but calls him the Blur. He's so busy fawning over Clark that he doesn't watch where he's going and falls right through a hole in the floor. Clark reacts in super-speed and grabs Bert's wrist. He hoists the klutzy little cherub back onto solid ground. Bert stares at him in mingled awe and confusion. Clark's all... "Uh... adrenaline! Also, you're very tiny! I AM NOT THE BLUR!" Bert makes big lovey eyes at Clark and calls him a hero. Clark beats a hasty retreat... but not too hasty. Bert's going to have so much to write about in his diary tonight.
Metropolis General. Mrs. Jones lies on the metal examination table. The coroner pulls a sheet up over her face. There's also a sheet around her lower body, leaving only her midsection exposed. Either her guts are showing or someone left their fresh bratwurst lying around in the morgue. Clark walks in, saying forensics sent him there. The coroner extends a bloody hand in greeting. Clark stares at it until the coroner's like, "Duh!" He strips off his latex glove and pulls down his face mask. Oh, ho! It's Desaad and his fashionably scruffy chin. He's adopted an American accent for this scene, though, and introduces himself as Blaine. He's been busy, busy, busy with all these dead bodies. He doesn't want to be caught slacking off, he says, so Clark agrees to make things quick. He happens upon a normal-looking X-ray film of a victim's skull. Clark asks about the cause of death. "Blaine" says a hemorrhage that started with the heart. "If they hadn't been found grouped together, I would have said natural causes," he says. "There's nothing natural about this," Clark responds. Yeah, that's kind of what the guy just said. When Clark wonders what kind of person could do such a thing, the phony coroner says it must be someone who really enjoys what he does. Clark notices a tiny smudge of ink on Mrs. Jones's hand. He focuses his super-powered eyes to get a microscopic view. The ink dots don't look especially unusual, but Clark is intrigued. The phony coroner has a look for himself and compliment's Clark's eyes. They are rather pretty. Clark starts wondering if the other bodies were similarly marked. "I'm the guilty one," Desaad/Blaine confesses. He holds up his hand, showing an ink stain on his palm, says his pen broke when he was taking notes earlier. Also, he killed everyone. Clark thanks him for his time.
Limo of Lies. Damn, it's foggy out there. Chloe and Oliver have been relegated to the trunk. Their captors were polite enough not to bind and gag them. Oliver, as usual, has a joke for the situation: "You know, when I said I wanted to spoon earlier, this isn't what I had in mind." Aw, he's a cuddler. Chloe laughs, reaches up to touch the back of his neck. She's glad at least that they're alone together. Oliver calls it "the most romantic of his recent kidnappings." He really does get kidnapped a lot, doesn't he? Sometimes, even Chloe kidnaps him. Oliver mentions tonight is their anniversary, and Chloe freezes. Even though she's facing away from him, he can sense something is awry. He tugs on her shoulder a bit so he can get a look at her wide-eyed frown. "Oh, jeez, you forgot!" he cries. Chloe maneuvers so she's facing him. "I did not forget that it's been a year since we started doing... whatever it is that we're doing." This kidnapping just moved further down Oliver's romance list, right below the time Slade Wilson made him act out his favorite Solo-Flex commercials. Oliver is miffed. He realizes she really wasn't kidding at the restaurant when she said she couldn't call him her boyfriend. He starts to turn his back to her, all butt-hurt, then realizes he has more to say to her. He points out that they spend all their time together, that they've said "I love you" multiple times. "What do you call that?" he challenges her. Chloe's mouth hangs open for a moment. The limo bumps and bounces along. "Can we talk about this later?" Chloe asks. "I'd love to do that, if there is a later," Oliver says, folding his arms over his chest. Chloe rolls onto her back, sighing about how dramatic he is. At this point, the limo stops and the trunk opens. Four men glare down at the Bickersons, at least one of them with a gun. "You've got some explaining to do," one guy says. Chloe and Oliver look at each other like maybe they just realized they should have been using the last five minutes coming up with a plan instead of jawing about their issues.
The men march Chloe and Oliver into a small but tidy apartment. Oliver's had about enough of this. He demands to know what's happened to Mrs. Jones. The guys with the guns want to know the same thing from these natty young lovers. Chloe admits to being confused. "We know you aren't Joneses," one guy says. "Who are you?" Chloe and Oliver give each other a knowing look and decide to introduce themselves by erupting into a kick-ass fight. Oliver takes on the guys to his right while Chloe deals with the fellows to her left. Oliver grabs one guy's shooting hand and hurls another guy into a chair. It should be noted that Chloe has on a short red trench that affords her some modesty while she whups some serious behind. She elbows someone, punches someone else, then reaches into the bookcase for a book that she uses to whack one dude in the face a few times. He's lucky it was just a trade paperback and not the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary. A man grabs Chloe and shoves her up against the bookcase. Oliver grabs him and tosses him into a coffee table. (Surprisingly, it is not glass, but wood.) The fight continues apace as our intrepid heroes give and take more than a few blows. Chloe spies a gun on the floor and kicks it across the floor to Oliver. Meanwhile, she kicks one of their captors in the face as he's crawling around and knocks out another guy with a chunk of coffee table. Both she and Oliver are so riled up from the fight that they don't realize all their enemies are down. They turn to each other, poised to fight each other. Luckily, they recognize their faux pas before any bodily harm is done and each drop their weapons. "I love you," they say simultaneously. They grapple in a quick kiss before looking around at the damage they've wrought. Chloe also sees an FBI badge lying on the floor. Oliver looks around the room, as well, seeing surveillance equipment set up at the window. He picks up a notebook and looks through it. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones weren't married at all," he says. "They were on a stakeout -- FBI." "I know," Chloe says, holding up the badge. "We just wiped the floor with their backup." Oliver thinks Mr. Jones must be in grave danger if their cover was blown. Chloe notices a door off to the side that's slightly open and goes for a look. What she sees confirms that Mr. Jones is, indeed, in danger. There are X-rays of skulls that have been marked with the Omega symbol. "The darkness," Oliver says, just in case we forgot what the symbol means.
Alley behind Club Desaad. It's morning. Chloe and Oliver, still wearing their dinner date attire, have gone for a look around. There are posters on the outside wall advertising a "7 Deadly Sins" party. Oliver has tried knocking on the front door with no answer. Chloe thinks it would be a bad if he got caught breaking into a sex club. So... don't get caught! Y'all break into stuff all the time! They exposit back and forth that the FBI has been keeping an eye on the place ever since an agent came in for a little fun and his physical a few days later showed an Omega on his skull. While Chloe consults the notebook for info on other club victims, Oliver scales the outside wall like a freakin' monkey. By the time Chloe looks up, he's perched outside a second-story window. "Hey!" she calls out, just every so slightly put out. She tells him not to "leave Goldilocks out in the cold." He tells her he doesn't want her getting "caught in the crossfire" if the darkness is involved. Goldilocks pouts. Oliver gymnastics his way into the window. Chloe can't help but be a little impressed by her hot hunk of man.
A gun cocks behind her. "Hands where I can see them," a man says. Chloe rolls her eyes. This shit again? She turns around, surprised to see that her would-be shooter is Mr. Jones. He places her under arrest and moves to cuff her hands behind her back. Before he can finish, all his face holes start bleeding. He gasps and drops to the ground. Chloe turns and finds Desaad walking toward her. A jumbled sort of whispering fills the air. [Smoke monster! - Z] "He really didn't have a clue," Desaad says of the departed agent. "But not you -- you know all about me." His favorite color is black, he enjoys long walks on the beach and wrapping dead bodies in cling wrap. With a wave of his hand, he hurls Chloe into the wall. The force must have been great enough to knock her shoes off, because she's suddenly barefooted. He stands over an unconscious Chloe. "I think it's only fair I get to know you a little better." Why do villains insist on making quips even when no one can hear them? It's almost as if he knew it was the end of the scene and he wanted a line to go out on!
Daily Planet. Lois is on a tear through the basement. A young puppy of a lad is trailing after her. "I'm getting really tired of excuses here," Lois says. The puppy starts to apologize, but Lois holds up a silencing hand. She was actually bitching at someone through her earpiece, and she's not done: "Risotto cheese bites? Should we just serve up hot charcoal, too?" She hangs up on what must be a wedding caterer who is now considering a career change. Also, what's wrong with risotto cheese bites? They sound delicious! She turns her attention to the puppy, who is still following her around. "What do you have for me, Jeff?" He hands her some files from Bert in forensics. "He says you're lucky to be engaged to such a super guy," says Mutt N. Jeff. He clasps his little paws together and eagerly awaits her command, so she sends him off to a bakery to get her a "good deal on vanilla bean frosting." Lady knows how to delegate, but does not know how to pick her wedding battles. Nonetheless, Jeff bounds off, eager to please. On his way out, he bumps into Clark and respectfully apologizes to "Mr. Kent." Clark barely even notices the guy.
Clark sits down across from Lois and waits for her to lay into him, sure that she's heard about all the ass-kissing he's been getting lately. [So, in order to hide his identity, he needs to become unlikeable? - Z] You can tell she really, really wants to, but calls herself a "positive, supportive, independent woman" and she just wants to hear what he found out at the morgue. She smiles very brightly. Clark should be very afraid. He tells her the coroner hasn't made a connection between the bodies. "It's a dead end." Lois flips through the file that Jeff fetched for her. Photos of the victims at the crime scene show little inked pretzels just above each of their hands. Lois tells him the coroner must have been lying. Clark looks at the pictures, too, and tells her he only saw a few dots an their hands at the morgue. Lois squints at the pictures. "That's only a fraction of a centimeter; how were you able to see that?" she asks. "Micro-vision," he says. She scoffs slightly at the name. "It's my power, I can call it whatever I want," he pouts. But on to more important matters: Clark realizes the coroner was covering his tracks. Then he really should have cleaned off his victims' hands before dumping their bodies, no?
Watchtower. Clark is sifting through information on one of the super-nifty computers. The pretzel stamp is actually some kind of knotted snake. Clark calls Lois and tells her the stamp was made for an anonymous buyer. Also, there's no one at the morgue named Blaine. Oliver comes through the doors, calling out for Chloe. Clark hangs up with Lois. "Oliver, what happened?" It's so weird how often everyone says each other's names. Oliver, looking at the computer screen, says, "That's what happened." The pretzel-snake stares back at them. "Lois and I are trying to find a serial killer that uses that stamp," Clark says. Oliver's day is not looking up. He gives Clark the FBI notebook and catches him up on the case so far. Clark recognizes a picture of Desaad. "He's an agent of the darkness," he says, "just like Godfrey." Clark somehow figures out that because there were no Omega symbols on the dead bodies, Desaad must be killing the ones he can't convert. That seems so time-consuming. Wouldn't it be better, from an evil and logistical standpoint, to just let your converted minions do the killing for you? Perhaps Lois could tell Desaad about delegating one's work. Oliver pulls up an address for where the club is registered (what?) and gets a notion to go chasing after Chloe. Clark stops him. "You're upset and in no condition to go up against the darkness." Clark tells him to "stay put" and super-zips away. "Like hell," Oliver says to Clark's contrail.
Ruined church. Chloe is just coming to with a start. Her hands are lashed to a hook above her, suspending her from the ceiling so that her toes can barely touch the floor. It looks cold and miserable and Desaad has done away with her pretty red trench. A beam of sunlight pierces through the gloom. She swivels around and sees Clark standing there in his blue tee and red leather jacket. Clark unties her hands and catches her when she falls. They kneel together on the floor, embracing. "I thought I'd lost you," he says. Suddenly, Clark's holding her at arm's length, talking about being afraid he can never go back, and all the flashes going through his mind. "Flashes of you and I," he says. If he'd said "you and me," the correct grammar would have given the game away. Chloe's all confused. "What if we missed our chance?" he asks, peering deep into her eyes. He asks her for a kiss. "After all those years, don't you wanna know?" He leans in. She doesn't exactly pull away, but she whispers "no" twice and shakes her head. He zips away.
Suddenly Oliver is standing across the room. Chloe runs into his arms. Oliver starts to ask if he just saw Clark, but Chloe cuts him off in mid-sentence. "Ollie, something is wrong with Clark." This isn't news to Oliver, who says that's why they need to get out of there. "Let me run away with you this time," he says. She looks up at him, confused. "I would never ask you to do that," she tells him. Well, maybe that's why he's offering. That way, you don't have to ask! He assures her it's OK. "We don't have to try so hard to be heroes," he says. Not even just for one day. Oliver heads for the door and holds out his hand. He says there are other people who can stay and fight. He flaps his fingers impatiently, urging her toward him. "Just take my hand," he says. She smiles, takes two steps in his direction, then frowns. The whispering from earlier is back. [Smoke monster! - Z] "Who are you?" Chloe asks. She shakes her head as if clearing it. She thinks hard and realizes, "This isn't happening." Oliver blinks out of view.
Lois walks into the room behind Chloe, flickering like a computer image before remaining solid. "You aren't real, either," Chloe says. Fake Lois doesn't seem concerned by that. She thinks she's real enough to make Chloe wonder if she'll ever be as happy and Lois and Clark. Given how prone to moping Clark is, I don't think it'll be hard. "You envy what we have," Fake Lois says. She and Chloe circle around each other. "I have only ever been happy for Lois and Clark," Chloe says. She thinks a bit and latches on to the envy that Fake Lois mentioned. She thinks out loud: "Leaving with Ollie would be sloth and Clark's kiss is lust." She realizes she's being tempted. Fake Lois congratulates her. Man, Erica Durance has some arched eyebrows. Fake Lois says none of this changes how Chloe feels. "You just have to admit it." She tries to taunt Chloe, saying she gave up everything that Lois has and now she wants it back. Nah, she knows it's too close to the series finale for that kind of an arc. Chloe orders Fake Lois out of her head.
Reality returns. Chloe's still strung up on a hook, showing off her well-groomed armpits. Desaad paces around her, gives her a few lusty looks and corrects her that it's the heart and not the head he's concerned with. He blathers about how the heart is both man's asset and weakness. That's exactly how I feel about potatoes. Delicious, starchy potatoes. Chloe scoffs. "So, you're just gonna put me through the Seven Deadly Sins House of Horror and try to convert me into one of your Dark Denizens?" Awful, awful dialog. That Mack can get through it while tied up, soaked and probably freezing is laudable. "Oh, you might balk," he says, "but it's worked for me for a very long time." He runs the tip of a knife up the front of her dress, pausing for a moment at the Chloeavage. With a flick of his wrist, he releases her from the hook. He circles around her, caressing her shoulders with the blade of the knife. He talks about sin and her vulnerability. She glares at him, defiant. "You know what I am," he says. "You know what I'm capable of." He places the hilt of the knife in her hands and the tip of the blade at his throat. He invites her to kill him. If she doesn't, all her friends will die. She breathes hard, thinks about it for a while, but knows he's pushing wrath. "Nice try, but I'm stronger than that."
Another version of Chloe pops up to agree with her. In fact, it seems to be the white-suited Chloe avatar from a few weeks ago. Avatar Chloe is all, "Yes, we are strong! We're totally pulling off this outfit without looking like we're selling ice cream!" She says something about trying to save her own soul while sacrificing others. Real Chloe still refuses to kill Desaad. So Avatar Chloe talks some more about how awesome they are and the real Chloe realizes she's being tempted by her pride. Avatar Chloe kind of ruins any chance of making a sale, because now she starts dissing on Chloe's "grossly disproportionate sense of independence" and being too proud to ask for help. Chloe tells her to shut up, but she goes on and on, making Chloe feel worse and worse. Maybe Desaad needs to look up "pride" in his dictionary? "All that effort you spent freeing yourself from your old identity," says Avatar Chloe, "to suddenly give everything over for something lesser -- for a relationship!" Dude, Oliver is crazy hot and utterly devoted. It's not a bad trade. Desaad pushed too hard. Chloe tosses the knife aside and says, "Go to hell!" "Nah, it'll be here soon enough," he says. After spending all this effort on trying to convert a single person, Desaad decides it's all been in vain and it's time to do away with her. Luckily, Clark whooshes in and whooshes her back out. Cutting it kinda close, big guy.
He whooshes back in a moment later, sans Chloe. Desaad seems pretty pleased, so maybe this is what he was planning all along. Clark asks him what he is. Desaad calls himself a prophet and "a servant loyal to a far greater power." "The darkness," Clark says. "To Darkseid," Desaad corrects him. Desaad ogles him a bit and sadly pronounces him "incorruptible" due to the love in his heart and the smile in his eyes or whatever the hell feel-good crap Clark's got going on lately. Desaad's face is all twitchy and distracting. He says he, Godfrey and Granny have been preparing for something amazing. Clark says they're burning Omegas into people's skulls, but Desaad says they were already there. "But I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," Desaad says with a girlish pout. Clark looks confused. Desaad's eyes go all black and he hurls Clark across the room with, like, an electric tornado that shoots out of his hand. Clark sticks to the window like he's a Garfield doll with suction cup paws.
Desaad walks into an alley (50% of the scenes on this show take place in alleys) where his black Chrysler is parked. He beeps off the car alarm and I pause for two minutes to laugh. He's an agent of Darkseid, he can make people bleed from the eyes, he just glued Superman to a window like a toy and he's worried about someone jacking his ride. Lordy, maybe the world really is falling apart if even the supervillains can't park their cars safely anymore. Indeed, an arrow whizzes through the air and punctures one of the front tires. Desaad smiles. "Good things come to those who wait." Oliver pounces on him and shoves him up against the car. "Where the hell is she, huh?" "She screamed for you as she died," Desaad says. Oliver blink-blinks, then hauls off and punches Desaad a bunch of times. Meanwhile, Clark's still smooshed up against that window, watching helplessly. Oliver hits Desaad a few more times and Desaad takes it with a smile. Finally, Desaad catches Oliver's hand before the blow and gives Oliver a friendly little pat on his other hand. "It took me a while to figure out Chloe's weakness, but not you," he says. "No, your sin is ripe for the picking." Oliver doesn't quite understand that, so he just punches Desaad again. Clark finally, somehow, comes unstuck from the window and whooshes into the alley. He grabs Oliver by the shoulders, tells him Chloe's alive. Oliver doesn't believe it at first, but Clark persuades him. Finally he lets Desaad drop to the ground.
Daily Planet. Lois shows Clark the day's paper. "Sex Club Serial Killer Stopped" proclaims the headline. Lois is listed as the only reporter on the story because Clark asked for his name to be taken off. He admits that Lois was right and says he's been drawing too much attention to himself. He leads her to an unoccupied room in the back. He has a duffel bag with him. Lois apologizes for making things harder for him and he agrees he should wear a mask. But he's been reluctant: "This is the face of the man my parents raised, the face of the man that you love." He adds, "I don't want to deny who I am when I'm out there, doing what I was born to do." He says when he's saving people, that's who he really is. "'Clark Kent' is just a name," he says. "It's just a word." It's two words, actually, but counting isn't one of his abilities. He tells her he's the Blur and always has been. She looks proud and happy, but doesn't see how he's supposed to manage a normal life. In answer, he takes a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from his bag. The Blur, he says, isn't the disguise. "Clark Kent will be the mask." She starts to tell him that he's going to have to change more than his glasses for this to work, but he's already one step ahead of her. He knows he'll have to act like a big dork. Somewhere in here, we learn that Desaad is locked up in Belle Reve, although how they managed to pull that off is a mystery, but Clark knows they'll be seeing Darkseid at some point. Probably in May. He puts on the glasses. "I'll be ready, hiding in plain sight." He scoots the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. Lois celebrates by deciding to drag him off to a cake tasting. He acts like he'll hate it but, come on, it's cake.
On their way out of the office, Clark bumps into Jeff, causing the poor pup to drop all his papers. "You really need to watch where you're going, buddy," Jeff says, bending down to retrieve his work. Clark, you ass, help him with his papers! Alas, the big oaf just watches. Even after Jeff stands up, it takes him a moment and a prodding from Lois before he recognizes Clark. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Kent," Jeff says. Clark accepts the blame and scoots his glasses again. He'll be able to secretly flip people the bird all the time now. "I'll try to be more careful time," Clark says. Jeff agrees that's a good idea. And thus, with the simple application of spectacles to face, Clark erases not only Jeff's adoration, but also the memories of everyone who ever laid eyes on him in the last ten or so years that he's looked like this. Also, every photograph or video that was ever taken of him spontaneously erupts into flames. Yearbook photos? Gone! Driver's license picture? Vanished! All the little pictures of him to his bylines from the Torch or the Planet? Miraculously all burnt into nothingness! The glasses are just that powerful, people.
Watchtower. All the monitors display X-rays of Chloe's unmarked skull. Because one monitor wasn't enough? Chloe reminisces over old high school pictures. For some reason, the power of Clark's glasses has not yet erased his images from her yearbook. Chloe's probably working some kind of techno-magic on them. "You all right?" Oliver asks, startling her. She smiles. "Well, I escaped the villain of the piece with nary a mark on my bones." Oliver points out how the yearbook pictures kind of ruin that whole "woman who doesn't exist" thing she's been trying to pull off. She agrees they're "kind of a breadcrumb." He asks if she's feeling lost. She rattles off a list of careers she's had in her young life. She worries she's been defining herself by other people or causes. She hasn't felt like herself since high school. She looks at the beaming picture of herself, voted most likely to succeed. Now that's all mostly gone because she erased it. She says that's why she's been reluctant to define herself with Oliver. "I'm afraid I'm gonna lose the last little bit of me I have left." He tells her he knows who she is. She smiles, touched. She says she's never questioned her love for him. She pulls on a green leather jacket that must have been made by Oliver's tailor. "So, what do we do now?" she asks. He takes her by the shoulders. He tells her things that he knows she'll understand, and that will show her he understands her. He knows now a normal life isn't for him. He'll be in the spotlight for the rest of his life. "I thought I was giving up my identity by coming out," he says, "but all I did was change it, 'cause I am who I am and it's time I stopped hiding from that." She smiles up at him. He brushes the hair out of her eyes. "I made this bed and I have to sleep in it," he says. She gives him a flirty look and says, "Well, you don't have to do it alone."
They start heading for the door, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. He poses a question to her: "When people see this adorable blond -- and you are -- on this adorable blond's arm... what do they call you?" She stops, looks up and quirks her eyebrows at him. "Let's start with 'girlfriend' and go from there." He teases her about how "high school" that sounds, but you can tell he's tickled pink. They kiss adorably. They start toward the door again, but he pauses to turn off some of the electrical equipment with the lame excuse of trying to save money. Really, it's just a way to get him in front of a black light doohickey so that wee see the Omega gleaming through his forehead. Is he possessed by the darkness? Going to a rave? Guess we'll have to find out later.
But first: What kind of crazy plan for world domination is this? It seems like you have to actually be in the presence of Desaad (or Granny or Godfrey) in order to be corrupted. Because Clark was ready to let Lionel die in a fire just a little while ago, and yet he's Omega-free. It just seems so labor-intensive and slow. Guess we'll have to find that out later, too.
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Tippi Blevins also recaps Nikita. You can reach her at b_tippi@yahoo.com or http://twitter.com/tippib.