The dust of the Nell Theater's demolition-turned-renovation was thick in the air, but to Jeremy, it smelled like opportunity. While Clark was busy brooding over Whitney's arrest and Chloe was chasing "Project 117" ghosts in Metropolis, Jeremy had traded his leather jacket for a tool belt.
He wasn't just there to move espresso machines; he was there to wire the nervous system of Smallville's new heart.
…
Lana stood in the center of the construction zone, a smudge of white plaster on her cheek and a clipboard held like a shield. She looked exhausted, but for the first time since the "Kinetic" heist, she didn't look broken.
"The contractor says the server rack won't be here until next month, Jeremy," Lana sighed, looking at the tangled mess of Cat-5 cables protruding from the wall. "Lex is already breathing down my neck about the 'LuthorCorp High-Speed' launch."
"Lex's contractors work on corporate time," Jeremy said, stepping off a ladder with the fluid grace of someone who never truly lost his balance. "I work on 'friend' time. I've already got the primary hub bypass rigged. You'll have T1 speeds by Tuesday."
Lana smiled—a genuine, tired expression that reached her eyes. "I don't know why you're doing all this. You've been here every night since the deal went through."
"I like seeing things built, Lana," Jeremy said softly, stepping closer to wipe the plaster from her cheek. His touch was lingering, a calculated move to anchor himself as her primary support system. "And I think you've had enough things taken away from you lately."
The front doors of the theater suddenly creaked open, admitting a gust of cold air and two very familiar, very unhappy faces. Clark and Chloe stood in the entryway, looking at Jeremy and Lana's proximity with synchronized frowns.
"Jeremy? I didn't know you were an IT expert," Chloe said, her voice dripping with a sarcasm that couldn't quite hide her irritation. She had been sidelined by Jeremy's "Project 117" lead for three days, only to find him playing handyman for Lana.
"I haven't seen you for a while, Jeremy," Clark added, his voice low. He looked at Jeremy's hand, which was still near Lana's face, and his jaw tightened. To Clark's Super-Senses, the "Static" around Jeremy wasn't just electrical—it felt like a territorial claim.
"Lana needed a hand with the infrastructure," Jeremy replied, unfazed. He turned back to the server cabinet, his fingers dancing over the wires. "Unless you guys are here to help prime the walls?"
"We came to see if Lana wanted to grab dinner," Clark said, stepping further into the room. "You've been working pretty hard, Lana. You need a break."
"Actually, Jeremy and I were going to stay and finish the wiring," Lana said, her tone apologetic but firm. "If I don't get these terminals up, Lex might pull the second half of the funding. Jeremy is the only one who knows how to sync the LuthorCorp encryption."
…
As Clark and Chloe left—Chloe muttering about "convenient timing" and Clark looking like he wanted to rip the server rack out of the wall—Jeremy returned to his work.
He wasn't just syncing encryption.
Deep within the Talon's main frame, Jeremy was installing a Static-Resonant Subroutine. Using his understanding of electromagnetic frequencies, he created a "ghost" partition in the server. Every email sent from the Talon, every private conversation captured by the security microphones, and every login from Lex's personal tablet when he visited would be mirrored to Jeremy's private terminal at the Creek residence.
He glanced at Lana, who was focused on a floor plan. She saw a friend helping her realize a dream. Jeremy saw a partner who provided the perfect cover for his own surveillance state.
"There," Jeremy whispered, the green light of the server reflecting in his eyes for a split second. "The Talon is live."