How We Got Here (Part Seventeen)

He heard their muted voices from the kitchen, heard a soft giggle, even something that sounded like a kiss. About ten seconds ago, it might have made his blood boil. Not now, though. Because he was going to win. Sure, it wasn't a clear victory yet. And she might get a few hits in before this was through, but he could give it right back to her now. He had three advantages. First, she loved him. Between the ring, Chloe's clever ways sidestepping the truth, and more than a decade of knowing her, he was sure of it. Second, she didn't love Allen. He'd been a fool to think she could, really. The guy was a pleasant, handsome idiot and Chloe probably thought he seemed like such a safe bet. But she didn't love him or she wouldn't have done one of her clever sidesteps around that, too. "I'm marrying him. So there's your first clue." Third, he didn't give a fuck about destiny. He'd be the best damned hero he could be, help as many people in as many ways as he can, and maybe he would be all the things Rokk claimed. But no unseen force or idea of his future was going to dictate his entire life to him. He'd live it his way. He'd win. He stood and moved to the kitchen, but stopped just outside the door. "Don't much like coffee, you know." It was Allen. He almost felt sorry for the guy. "Do you suppose he has any tea?" "Trust me. We're lucky there are any beverages on hand." "Just as well. We'll be leaving fairly soon." He growled and pocketed the rings. One of them would be. "Slow down, Liz. You know that stuff makes you crabby." "I'm just being polite. You know I don't like it, either." Oh, he was going to win. Because if anything was a lie... He stepped forward, leaned nearly casually against the doorway. "Clark? Did you get the papers?" She moved slightly away from Allen and put her coffee cup down abruptly when she looked up at him. Another little tell of hers. She was nervous. He didn't blame her. He was definitely about to win. "You know, I just couldn't figure them out," he said, smiling. That might have been a tell on his part, but he just couldn't help it. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, it can't be that hard. I've marked where you sign and..." "But I just have a few questions. Why don't you come and clear some things up for me?" "I think everything's pretty clear now. We've... discussed everything," she finished, giving him a significant look. "Not everything. Don't you want to make sure this marriage is really over?" "Trust me, it is," she said tightly. "Well, if you have questions..." Allen gave a dry laugh. "I have a way with boring paperwork. You know, my uncle's an attorney and I worked summers..." "I think Chloe can explain it just fine," Clark cut in. "Besides, I found your ring. I want to make sure nothing happens to it." Allen stared from one to the other, looking confused. He'd be a lot more confused if Clark ended up doing this here. "Well, her ring's still on her hand." Chloe patted his hand. "He's talking about my grandmother's ring" She stood quickly. "Very old and ornate. I lost it here years ago. So glad Clark found it. I'll be right back." She followed Clark out to the dining room. "So that's what this is about," she hissed. "The ring?" "One of them." Clark moved to the front door and opened it, nodding to her, but she stood still. "What? Do you want him to hear us talking about your magic ring?" She sighed and moved past him. "You know, if there was a problem with me having the ring, I think Rokk would have come and taken it by now. Since I haven't used it to rob a bank, I think it's..." "I'm talking about your other ring," he said as he closed the door. She froze, then turned to him slowly. "I don't think that has anything to do with anything." "And I think it has everything to do with everything." He held it out. "Why would you keep it? What possible reason could you have to keep it." "To... remind myself not to... make rash decisions and..." "Or because you love me." "Don't be ridiculous," she said, gripping past him for the door. He grabbed her arm. "I still have mine, you know," he said, his lips nearly touching her hair. "I've stood on mountains and over rivers, ready to toss it so far away, But I could never find it in me to do it. You know why?" "Because of your stupid quest to find me, I guess," she said, her voice shaky. "Because I didn't want to forget that night. There were so many things wrong with that night. Why you did it, how it happened, but... there was one thing that was so right that the rest of it didn't matter." He pulled her to face him. "You and me, Chloe." "No," she said on a choked whisper, not meeting his eyes. "You and me are wrong. I finally have something that's right. Please don't..." "You know, if I really thought that, I'd let you go, Chloe. But no. You don't have something right. You have Jimmy all over again." She did meet his eyes, then. "No, I don't. This is nothing like that because I don't have a secret life, so Allen will never be in any danger." "I'm not talking about danger. I'm talking about the fact that he's wrong for you." "He's perfect for me." "That's what you said about Jimmy. And last night, you finally admitted that was..." "That was wrong. This is different." "How is it different? You don't love him. either." "I am marrying him, so it follows that..." "Not the same thing," he cut in. "And you know what? You never said you loved this guy or adored him or even that you were happy with him. You did that thing you do. You avoided the truth." He relaxed his grip. "I might not have noticed it, except for how you did it with me." "Don't be ridiculous. I am marrying Allen as soon as..." "Then say you love him. Look me in the eye and say it." She shook him off and stomped down the porch steps. "It is none of your business." He followed her around the front of the house. "So I'm not supposed to say a word." "You have no right to pry in my personal life." "Even if you're marrying a guy who looks a hell of a lot like me?" He didn't want to bring this into it, but... come on. She stopped just outside the kitchen. "What?" "That's right. He looks like me." "No. He does not look like you. That's just... He looks like..." Her eyes widened as she glanced into the kitchen window. Allen sipped his coffee, grimaced, then pulled his fogged glasses off, frowning at the lenses. "He looks... Oh, dear God!" She strode quickly away from the kitchen. And he followed. "That's right," he said with some satisfaction. "You traveled across the ocean and ended up engaged to a guy that looks like me. A man might think you were hung up on him." "What? No. No, no, no." She stopped in front of the barn and whirled on him. "All that means is... maybe... that I have a physical type. It probably has nothing to do with you." "Except for how you love me." "Stop saying that!" "Then start saying you don't." She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. "Let's put this in perspective," she said slowly. "You're a teenage crush. Yes, it took some time to get over it. Considering you're that guy people call Superman, that's pretty much expected so if, even now, there are residual feelings..." "Stop dancing around, Chloe. Either you love me or you don't." "It's not as simple as..." "Yes, it is, Chloe, so say it!" "Fine! I love you!" She pushed past him and moved into the barn. "I've loved you since I was thirteen and maybe I always will. But that's no reason to be together." He blinked as he followed her, not ready for her to say it so soon. He'd had a battalion of counter arguments ready, but still... She said it. He quickly moved in front of her. "That's every reason," he said. That was just... reasonable. "No. We're bad for each other," she said, pacing away from him. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "You don't mean that. You love me." "So what if I do? Does that make this okay? We are bad for each other, Clark." She gripped his arms. "We do bad things for each other. You said so yourself." "I never said..." "What about you and the towers?" She shook him...or tried to. "What about me and Sebastian Kane? Aren't those bad things?": "Yes. But..." "You took my memories without asking. I tricked you into marrying me. We even do bad things to each other." "Yes. And they shouldn't have happened, Chloe." He lifted his hands to her face. "If we'd been talking, if we'd been honest with each other..." "No. They happened and we can't pretend..." "They happened because we were apart. So we can't do that. We can't be in each other's lives just halfway. Okay?" Her eyes filled. "We fucked up in so many..." "When we stopped trusting each other. When we started hiding things from each other. We had years when we told each other everything and they were... They were great, Chloe." His thumbs stroked her cheeks as they grew moist. "We were great. We could be that way again, except... more." She started to push him off, but ended up putting her hands over his. "There is no more for us. There never can be. You can't fight destiny and Rokk told me..." "Want to hear what Rokk told me? That everything changed when I saved you and I've thought about that, Chloe. Maybe if I hadn't, my future would be written some other way. And maybe I would be fine living without you if there was no you. But you're here. And I'm here. And I want..." "It's not about what we want. There are bigger things than..." "Yes. Rokk knew the future, but the future changed. He said so himself. So maybe this has all been his way of trying to get it back to what he knows, but... Chloe, I don't care about how things should be in anyone else's eyes. All I know is what I've seen. I've seen my life this far with you and I don't want to see the rest of it without you." "Please, don't..." "I love you," he said, bending his head to hers. "I know you do," she said, her eyes spilling over as she pushed him away in earnest. "I think I can accept that you really believe that right now. But you won't always." "Stop telling me what I will or won't feel," he said, trying to pull her back in, but she stepped away. He put his hands up. "Fine. I'm not going to push you. But you can stop using destiny and Rokk and what you think I feel. If you don't believe in us, then that's all you." "Well, I don't." she took a deep breath and swiped roughly at her eyes. "I don't want to argue anymore, Clark. I don't want to be angry anymore. You found me. I'm even... glad you did. I'm glad I could see you one more time. Maybe we needed this. Maybe you were right to keep me here. Maybe everything we've said needed to be said and put away. But it ends here. I've made my choice." He backed away, nearly stumbled. As much as he was determined not to push her, he never thought she really would choose... "So you choose to live a lie." "I choose to live a life I can have." she said hoarsely, "with a man I can have and I get that you think that's all a lie. But most if it is true. I do what I always wanted to for a living. I am loved by a nice, handsome, stable man. Those are facts and those are more than most people get." She squeezed her eyes shut and swiped at them one last time before taking a deep breath. "It's not like I'm making such a bad choice, Clark." She turned on her heel. "So let me choose it!" He watched her walk away, couldn't think of anything in his supposed battalion of arguments because... What good would it do? Really, it was her choice. There was no letting her. After more than a decade, she didn't trust him. If she'd rather be safe with her safe life and her safe man then jump into the unknown with him, then... What was the point? He rushed inside ahead of her, signed on the dotted lines, slapped both rings on the table, and only glanced at her briefly as she opened the door, wide-eyed, before he sped upstairs, leaving the papers fluttering in his wake. He put on his suit and left from his bedroom window, figuring they could let themselves out, knowing there was no point in saying goodbye. Maybe that was all the last two nights were. Just a goodbye that was long overdue. It was eight in the morning on a Thursday as he hovered over the LNN building. Not much going on outside the commute, which was kind of a shame. He needed something to keep him occupied. Not that he was wishing crime on the city... much. But he saw his days as endlessly before him now. He didn't have a hobby, with Chloe being found and lost again just as quickly. He supposed there was nothing left but to move on. Maybe he should take a cue from Chloe. Find something safe. Rokk seemed to think it was all sewn up. Maybe he should look up Lois Lane, should she ever decide to speak to him again. He'd been reasonably happy with her for a time. Maybe there was something in that. Judging from what he knew of the future, Lois was a safe bet. As if on cue, he saw the woman herself stopping in front of a coffee cart, gesticulating widely as, he guessed, she was making sure her coffee was just right. He smiled, thinking of Chloe, of the two of them and how they often got that same look in their eyes when they were passionate about something. He supposed that was what drew him to Lois in the first place. Those qualities that had belonged, for years, to Chloe, right in front of him, but in a woman that didn't push him away. He frowned, thinking of Chloe and that man with his face. No. He wouldn't do it to Lois. Maybe he could have, once. Maybe, in that time Rokk seemed so desperate to take them all back to, a time where Chloe was truly gone, he could have. But he knew better now. He knew better than Chloe did, apparently, as she was going on with her ruse of a life, no matter who got hurt. But maybe no one would be hurt. Maybe she would have children and grandchildren with this man and live her life easily as if Clark Kent had never been in it. Maybe, in time, he could go on with his as if he hadn't had the best friend, ally, and.... damn it, the best wife any man could have. Sadly, today was not that day. He flew back to the farm, knowing there was nothing in Metropolis to distract him today. Actually, there was even less here. He stopped at his door, thinking of branching out, flying to New York. Maybe Star City or Edge City. He hadn't talked to the gang in a while, but maybe their cities needed some extra hands or... He froze as he heard voices. Well, really just one voice clearly, but there was another, faint, as if through a tunnel. He listened closely. "...you're not even through with Scotland and you want to do American hauntings?" "I'm not just talking about hauntings, but there is the ghost of Sharon Tate and the Winchester House." This voice was Chloe's and not more than ten feet away, then twelve, then eight... She was pacing. And in his house. And on his phone. "And there are all these stories about America's loneliest highway, also Area 51 and... Come on, Camilla, there's a lot to explore here." "Listen, I love a Hollywood haunting as much as anyone, but you have unfinished business here that..." "That I will finish. I have all my notes. I've done the research. All that's left is writing it up. I will finish my series. You know I will." "As you should. But I wasn't talking about that. Can we get back to Allen? Does this have anything to do with that sinfully gorgeous man at your wedding? I'd like to think I've been more than your boss and... " "Yes, you have. So can you just be my boss for one more second and tell me if I still have a job even if I..." Clark opened the door, then, as Chloe whirled on him, nearly dropping the phone. "Even if I'm... here," she said, dropping it for real and taking just one step forward before she stopped, freezing as it snapped back into the kitchen on its cord. "Clark..." "Well, that goes without saying, but... Liz? Damn it! I've lost her. George, get me Liz back at... whatever number she called fr..." Clark sped forward and grabbed the receiver, held it up to Chloe. She gripped it and smiled strangely before lifting it to her ear. "I'm here, Camilla," she said loudly."Listen, can I call you back?" She moved to the counter and cradled it before she turned back to Clark. "I didn't go," she said, wringing her now free hands. "I can see that." "It's just, Allen was talking about going back and my round trip ticket and whether I could transfer it to his flight and I was trying to hedge around him because I didn't have a round trip ticket back and then I thought about if I explained to Allen how I came here and how he'd think I was nuts and how, really, if I explained my life up to here, he'd think the same thing and then I thought it wasn't an issue in my new life, so why was I even thinking of it. But then I thought of my new life and my new job and how he kind of has the same opinion about my work, that it's nuts and I thought that would keep the spark alive, having that same argument. But then... Do I really want to have that argument for the rest of my life? Why am I even with him?" Clark could only shrug. "I..." "I'll tell you why. Because he was interested and I went along. See... Because... That's what I do. I go along. Even when they're all wrong for me, I just... go along. I did with Jimmy. Because I was so stupid and grateful that someone wanted me, but we'd have a same old argument, too. Even after he knew what you were and why I defended you, we'd still have the same problem. That you were more important than he was and I would always choose you." He started to smile... "Because the greater good comes first." And stopped just as quickly. "I know Rokk thinks me being someone else somewhere else is for the greater good, but I can't do it. I can't be a part of something so amazing and life changing, then just leave." She threw up her hands and strode into the kitchen, banging open cabinet doors. "But how can I be a part of that and still write? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to sit on the greatest stories of the century and call myself a reporter?" Clark followed her voice, now coming from his pantry. "Well, you know what? There are more stories than you!" She stomped out and glared at him as if he'd somehow argued the point. She stepped up to him. "And you know what? I want my life back. I tried to stay away, then you just showed up and what am I supposed to do? Say no to that? I can have it all, okay? I can be Chloe Sullivan and I can have a pen name and I can write about whatever the hell I want to. I'm going to have it all!" She said, spreading her arms wide before she pulled them in and moved to another cabinet. "Except coffee," she growled, slamming a door. "Where the hell do you put your other coffee?" "I don't have more than that. I don't usually drink much..." "And that's another thing! I like coffee, okay? I don't like tea. But I've been guzzling it like crazy because Allen thinks coffee is barbaric. I did the same damned thing with Jimmy. He thought my clothes were too tight and even though I f*cking hate puffed sleeves and ruffles. But what did I do?" She leaned heavily against the counter. "I went along. That's what I do," she sobbed, swiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "And I've hardly had any coffee in a year!" she finished on a wail. "I can see that," he said, moving tentatively towards her. "How much coffee have you had today?" "I don't know," she moaned, clutching her head. "A year's worth? I feel dizzy." He'd reached her side and, since she hadn't slapped him away yet, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe you should lie down." She pulled away and glared at him. "You think I'm just going to go along with you, too?" "No." He put his hands up. He wasn't about to be just another in a long line of guys she went along with. "Just a suggestion." He put one hand out. "If you want, you can lay on the couch while I get you more coffee." He understood now. This wasn't about them. This was about her. "I need more coffee," she said, taking his hand. He noted hers was shaking. "I know. Wish I'd figured it out before," he said, pulling her into the living room. "Figured what?" she said as he lowered her to the couch. That this was never about you and me. That this was about wanting yourself back. But he didn't want to embarrass himself anymore today, saying it. He knew it would come out in some sort of sad, self-pitying way no matter how he worded it. And he didn't want her to go along. Instead, he pulled an afghan from over a nasty rip and smiled. "That I shouldn't have fed you booze to get the truth out you." He smiled. "Not your poison." "After ten years," she mumbled blearily as he laid it over her. "Think you'd know." "You'd think." He waited until her eyes closed before he moved away. So she'd stayed, but not for him. He wasn't going to pout or mope or brood or any of the other things he might have done when he was a stupid kid. But she loves me. She even finally said it. So why... It was nearly a whine in his head and he stopped it. So she loved him. So she finally said it aloud. That didn't mean it was so all encompassing and earth shattering. She said she'd loved him since she was thirteen. And she'd found many ways to be with anyone but him in all that time. It didn't mean now was any different. As even that was getting closer to a mope, he cut that off as well, running upstairs for some clothes. She'd loved him since they were kids and, just like then, she refused to do anything about it. And he wasn't going to push her. Not if it made her leave. Not again. He could live with this. he'd dealt with it for years and, no matter how frustrating their stasis was, he was happier with her in his life than without. He'd go to Shelbyville. Get some coffee. Maybe some bread, milk, fruit, food that didn't come from a can. He hardly remembered what fresh things tasted like. That was the thing about living alone. In months, he'd found that anything he'd bought that had a shelf life of less than a year went to waste. So he'd stopped bothering. Of course, his canned food was down to three cans of cream of mushroom soup, which was only still there because he hated it. Since neither he nor Chloe had eaten in two days, he was sure they could get through some perishables... in however long she'd be here. She'd just nailed down her job in her first few hours. How long before she found a place? Not long, knowing her. ********************* When he snuck in with the groceries, she was still sprawled on the couch, dead to the world. He'd sometimes gone weeks on bare sleep and food and even he was damned near swaying on the spot, so he wouldn't be surprised if she slept straight through till morning. He very quietly put the groceries away and wondered if he should join her. Well, not join her. She'd made it clear that wasn't welcome. But sleep didn't sound like a bad idea. If he could just do it. It was dark and he should be dead to the world by now, but he just couldn't make it happen, especially not in a bed that still smelled like her, like them, like last night. And he'd stop himself, but he really didn't think this counted as moping. This was a real problem. How could he be around her now, feeling this way, wanting more? He supposed he'd always wanted more with her, but it was always so muddled before. It was easier to have this undefined mess of feelings and need and live with it before. Now he'd given it a name. It was love. How else do you describe it? When you know someone this well, when they know you. When you need someone this much and they need you... if they would just let themselves. How could he go back now? "This isn't going to be easy, you know." He sighed. "No, it won..." He started, realizing it was she who'd said it. He'd gotten so used to her voice in his head. He'd have to get used to the real thing... while he had it. He turned over to see her standing in his doorway, backlit from the hall. "I guess not. There's a lot to clean up." She moved in, leaned against his dresser, then moved away when it made a slight crunching noise. "First of all, this house." "Well, that. But you don't have to..." "I do have some money aside. it won't cost much to fix a few things and it's the least I can do, considering... Well, exactly how the damage was done." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Not that I regret that part." Did she mean... No. "Well, I guess we had to get that out of the way before we could go on." He thought of their first kiss. Maybe this was the same. They could go on as friends. That's what she wanted. "Anyway, the house is the least of it. You're going to have to reveal yourself to Lois and Oliver." "Not to mention the US census," she said, smiling ruefully in the dim light. "They won't take it well," she said, her smile dropping. "Lois and Oliver, I mean." "I don't think they will," he said, sitting up. "But they'll be glad to have you back." "After the initial screaming," she mumbled, staring at the floor. "Luckily, you'll be with me." She lifted her gaze to him. "Right?" His breath caught just a little. "If you want me to be," he answered, determined not to read into it. "Well, I smashed at least five mirrors in your house. That's at least 35 years of bad luck. I think I'm going to need you around just for that." She smiled hesitantly. He returned it just as shakily. "I guess I'll have to save you from black cats and ladders, too." She chuckled. See? They were joking. They could do this. They could go back. "Maybe you could keep me warm, too," she said, sitting next to him on the bed. He dropped his smile and sat up straighter. Don't read into it. Just dont read into it. "I don't suppose you want to turn the heat on in here," she said, hugging her arms. He realized that he was right not to read into it... and that her teeth were chattering. "I'm so sorry. I never need it, but I can turn up the thermostat of you..." "No. It's fine." She nudged at his shoulder. "Just move over a little." "Uh... Sure." He moved over and stared up at the ceiling as she slid under the covers. Nope. Nothing to read into here. "So... Maybe tomorrow we should start by giving Lois a call. Maybe block my number so she takes it," he finished on a mumble. "Anyway, you'll want to tell her first... and Oliver." Clark stiffened, remembering another reason not to read into anything. "I have missed Lois. We used to be so close and then... I don't know what happened those last few years. It's like there was this tension and distance. She had the life I'd worked for and she knew it. So I was resentful and she was avoidant and we just... existed together. I don't want it to be like that anymore. I want to be close to her again." "And Oliver," he repeated, trying not to seem like he was fishing. "I have missed Oliver," she said softly from next to him. "Bet you do," he muttered. "He didn't deserve what I did with... Vegas," she went on with a sigh, as if she didn't even care that he was seething. "At the time, I just... all I could think of was you, that you needed to be kept safe. I didn't even think about how he'd feel when he found out. Never dreamed he would. Then he did." She took a deep breath. "And that's how I left it." Clark grunted. "I'm sure you'll want to make it up to him." "I have no idea how. I never wanted to hurt anyone." He felt her shift, then felt her breath stirring his hair. "I guess that's why staying gone was the easiest thing. Once I was in England, I thought of coming right back, saying there was some mistake." He turned to find her facing him. "You did?" "I toyed with that ring every day, just stared at it, wondering what would happen if I just came back. But then I thought of all Rokk had told me about the future if I stayed gone and... I just thought all of you should have something safe, something sure." "And what about you?" "Well, it was open. I could make my own future there." "Or you can do it here." With me, he wanted to add, but didn't. "Guess it's just as open here." She sniffled slightly and smiled. "So... what do you think? New compound bow?" "What?" "Think that would make it up to Oliver?" He pursed his lips and rolled onto his back. "Back on him, huh?" "Well, he deserves some gesture. He did get me through a very hard year. He taught me to smile again. He was... easy to be with." He stared at the ceiling, thinking of what he had with Lois. "He taught me to feel again," she said. Of course, then he couldn't not think of them having sex. "Yeah. He's a real prince," Clark hissed, turning on his side. "He almost made up for the loss of my best friend." He felt her hand on his back and stilled. "Almost?" "I think, of anyone, Oliver might have been the one I made it work with if I could just get over his one flaw." Her hand moved up, then down, then around and over his stomach. And he was trying so damned hard not to read into it when he felt her lips between his shoulderblades. He swallowed hard. "And what was that?" "He wasn't you. No one ever is." He rolled over so fast, he nearly tumbled them both off the bed. He braced one hand against the nightstand and loomed over her "You mean you want me?" She looked at him like he was nuts. "When have I not?" "Oh, then..." He smiled, then stopped it. "No. I mean, you want this. Us. You want to do this for real?" "Well, I thought... I mean, I stayed. I thought that meant..." Her eyes widened. "Unless you don't..." "I didn't mean... Of course I do!" "I mean, I get it if you don't." "God damn it, Chloe. I do." She gave him a shaky smile. "So... why haven't you kissed me?" "I was just..." He decided the time for talking was over and bent his head to hers. She moaned against his lips and his grip on the nightstand faltered. They nearly tumbled off the bed before he gripped the back of her head and rolled them over, not about to end this kiss... maybe ever. She didn't seem in any hurry to stop. Her lips opened over his as her thighs straddled him, hips squirming over him. The kiss was just getting intersting when she braced her hands against his chest and sat up. He was about to pull her right back down when her hands grabbed at the sweatshirt, pulling it off over her head. He admired the view until her arms crossed over it. "You sure you want me to stay?" He nearly laughed. "Are you kidding?" He met her eyes and saw she wasn't. "Clark, this really won't be easy," she said, hugging her sides. "I'm not just talking about declaring myself among the living. I mean, I'm work. I'm a lot of work. Allen didn't know the half of it because I never let him, but you know exactly..." "I've never thought of you as work. Even when it was work-related." He sat up and pulled one arm away. "No. I have issues. And considering so many of my issues are tied up with things that would seem crazy to your average analyst, I've never been able to..." She took a deep breath and stopped the hand pulling at her other arm. "Clark, if we're going to do this, I need to know you'll be there." He stopped pulling and ran a finger down to her wrist. "And I need to know you won't run away." He met her eyes, serious now. "And I don't just mean running off to London. I mean... I don't want us to hide from each other anymore, Chloe. If that last year taught us anything, it's that we don't work that way." Her eyes filled and she nodded. "I missed you." He leaned up. "I missed you, too." "No. I mean, I've missed you for longer." She leaned her forehead against his. "I feel like I haven't seen you, not for real, for years." "I know what you mean. So we just... never let that happen again." He slid his arms around her back as her other hand fell away from between them. "Nothing comes between us." She smiled against his lips. "Not even clothes... except sometimes." "But never at night," he said, nipping at her bottom lip. "And some days," she added, pushing at his shoulders until he remembered he was supposed to fall back to the bed. So he did, watching as she leaned over him, pushing at the stretch pants, only moving off him for a second to shuck them off. He belatedly realized that he still had pants on. Lucky for him, Chloe had, too. He grinned like a fool as she slid them down his legs, thinking of all the ways she used to grab onto those little details he might have missed. "Like you never left," he said fondly, "except with sex." "Speaking of that," she said, glancing over him with equal parts appreciation and hesitation. "Do you think this house can hold up under any more sex? I mean, we might have to start scoping out Cold War era bunkers or..." "I don't think it's going to be a problem," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Really? Because last night..." "Wasn't tonight," he finished for her, something he was glad to do again after all this time. "It's different. I'm not angry, Chloe. And I'm not scared." She laughed lightly and leaned over him. "Then what are you?" "I'm with you." He leaned up to catch her lips. "So that means I can do anything." PREVIOUS PART EPILOGUE Okay. Fine. There are question marks. This story is basically complete, but I have left a little room for an epilogue and I will definitely be squeezing one in completely on the side of my fanfic rotation at some point this month. This was pushing the limit of what can be fit into one post as it was, but I may have a few more not completely necessary things to say just to put a pretty bow on this one.