He wasn't supposed to stop in the yard, just look the house over, make sure they were safe in their beds. But a light was still on in the barn. Even then, he told himself to just see that she was awake, not asleep in a chair and freezing. She was awake and poring over books by a worklight, sweater-clad in front of a heat lamp. She was fine. He really shouldn't stay.
He just couldn't tell himself to go.
He found himself moving closer to the barn, remembering when he spent most of his time there, thinking about that mopey kid, always wishing to be like everyone else. He nearly missed being that kid. Everything had seemed so much simpler for him. Every problem he had, he'd thought, would go away if he didn't have to live with that power. Dreaming of normalcy as some quick fix, a fantasy of some easy life. He'd been a stupid kid. But it was nice, being that young and stupid, thinking the answer was so easy.
He knew it wasn't that simple now. It wasn't that simple then, but it was rather nice not being let in on that yet.
There were no quick fixes. Even if he had all his power back, Mannheim would still be a threat. Even if he could save everyone from Intergang, Lois would still be struggling to be whole again. Even if she got everything she lost back, she'd be lost to him. And he'd be lost without her. Even now, even though she treated him like a stranger she knew too well, he needed her. He'd always needed her.
Back then, he needed her research, then her advice, her belief in him, that look in her eyes that told him he could save the world. Now he just... he needed her. It was what made him hang around The Planet. It was what made him take the job. It was what made him stay in her orbit even when he knew he shouldn't. It was for her, he'd told himself, to keep her safe. But it wasn't. It was for him. A selfish need to be around her because he didn't know who he was without her by his side. Friend, sidekick, coworker, and sometimes...
He let out a shaky breath, determined not to go there. Not to go near there.
"Are you coming up or not?"
He jumped slightly, realizing he was at the base of the steps. He looked up and she appeared over the railing, pulling her sweater tighter and rubbing her arms.
"Um... No. I don't want to interrupt you."
"Really? Because you're heaving enough sighs to blow the place down. I'm thinking the point might have been interrupting me."
"I really wasn't..."
She smiled and shook her head. "Clark, if you want to talk, just say so."
"I don't. I'm good." But he found his feet moving up the stairs, anyway. "Like I said, I don't want to interrupt you. I'll just..."
"It's not necessarily an interruption." She shivered and hugged her arms tighter. "It's actually a pick-up, considering we were interrupted before. Remember? When I was berating you for treating me like a crazy invalid and depositing me wherever you see fit and..."
"You're cold," he cut in. "You should go ins..." He stopped himself as her eyebrow raised. "You should do what you want," he said quickly. "I mean, if you're not cold, you're not cold."
"Well, I am cold." She moved back to her chair, putting her hands to the heatlamp. "This thing doesn't have the biggest radius. Can't step away for a second." She rubbed her hands together, then her arms again.
He quickly took off his suit jacket, moving to her. "Here. Put this on... if you want," he added quickly, trying to look blase about the whole thing. "I actually don't need it."
She glanced at him, then at the jacket, before taking it. "Only until the heater kicks in again. And only because I know for a fact you actually don't need it." She shrugged into it, sort of swimming in it before she rolled the sleeves up. "It's not that heavy, actually." She glanced sharply at him. "Is this all you wear all day? In December?"
"I told you. I don't need it."
"That's not the point, Clark. I think I might have mentioned this before, but you need a coat. Not for you, but so you aren't strolling around in your shirtsleeves when the rest of the world is shivering. It looks kind of suspicious."
"I have a coat."
"You mean the one you left at your giant igloo?"
"Fortress," he corrected. "And I'll get it when I can."
"That thin, old red thing? Why?"
"I've had it forever. It's my... thing, I guess. I even have the same one in blue somewhere. I should take a look in the attic or..."
"Wait." She held up a hand. "Do you mean to tell me that most of your life, you've been running around in some light jacket, snow or shine?" She shook her head. "I'm surprised everyone didn't figure you out. You need a real coat. Something wooly, maybe with..." She stopped, tilting her head to the side. "Well, that's a nice change of pace. Me telling you what to do. Of course, I can't force your arms into a parka, so it's not exactly..."
"I didn't mean to force you here. I just... carried you."
"Without asking."
"You were unconscious."
"I don't remember you asking even after I woke up."
"I was only..." He leaned against the table. "I don't think you're a crazy invalid. If I gave that off, I'm sorry. I was just worried about you."
She looked down, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve. "I get that. It's pretty much why I'm not pressing charges for abduction... yet."
"Lois, I never meant to..."
"Oh, I'm kidding." She leaned back in her chair. "Clark, I understand now that you aren't just some guy I work with. From what I gather, we got into some heavy situations together and there's all this misplaced guilt and concern. That's understandable. But the bottom line is that I'm an adult. And I decide where I go and what's best for me."
"Misplaced..."
"It just so happens," she went on, "that I think what's best for me is staying here." She eyed him sharply. "But that could change any minute, so..."
"Wait... you said misplaced guilt. If you think this is all some..."
"Oh, I don't want to go over and over it. The point is I forgive you, let's be friends, and don't do it again. Okay?" She took a deep breath. "So how was training?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. He was a little lost right now, all over.
"No progress?"
"No... I mean... Yes. I don't know. I flattened some boxes with my breath."
"Isn't that good?
"Oh, nothing's good! So I can blow. Big deal. Even if I could fly, I wouldn't know what Mannheim is after." He suddenly found it all spewing out of him. "The police are even stumped. And they can't even get Manheim on the robbery or the fake bomb... nothing! I went over and over it with them and... and Victor is crazy if he thinks I'm not grateful. Of course I'm grateful they talk to me. I don't know how I got so damned lucky."
Lois squinted at him. "Yeah. I don't get all of that. But... lucky? Clark, if the police talk to Superman, it's not some lucky chance. It was because you set it up. I wrote that first article and I couldn't even fit half of what Henderson had to say about you from that first night. You didn't run around, roughing up the muggers and car-jackers. You brought them to justice. You cooperated with the authorities. The police appreciate that kind of thing."
"It's not like that's a big deal. Who wouldn't cooperate? The police are trying to do the same thing I am. I just happen to have some power, but I can't just rough people up. I don't have the right. It's up to the law to bring them to..."
"But don't you get it, Clark? Most heroes in most cities don't think that way. They knock some heads together and run off. Most times, the criminal actually gets off, legally. You... you follow the letter of the law. That's what makes you... Superman." She shrugged. "It's why they know they can work with you."
"Well, what's Sawyer's problem, then? She's been a cop longer than I've been Superman." He paced the loft. "She should know better. She wants me to fight dirt with... more dirt and I can't get as dirty as Mannheim does. Who can? The slime used kids as a weapon. And now I have to give a speech and I hate giving speeches. I haven't had to do that since high school and stupid book reports and I hated it then and I hate it even more now. I wish..."
"Sawyer? Maggie Sawyer?"
"Yeah, she works in special crimes and she's all over Intergang, trying to..."
"Clark, how the hell did you get Maggie Sawyer to talk to you?"
He stopped pacing. "Well, I met her and..."
"I've dealt with her at press conferences. She pretty much rolls her eyes and calls me girlie and doesn't answer my questions," Lois said, nodding. "That's a hell of an in for The Planet."
"No. It's not my in," Clark said quickly. "It's not even The Planet's in. It's just Superman's."
"Just Superman's," she repeated. "Okay. Obviously useless."
"But you know how it is," he said. "Remember how we couldn't print most of the Met Vista stuff because of Superman... because of me? Even before, you had to sit on so many things just to keep my abilities a secret. Superman can't be tied to Clark Kent and not even to Lionel Luthor and his damned box or there would be no Clark Kent. I'd have to be just Superman with no life and I'd have to leave all I really am behind to be nothing more than... what I can do. I need Clark Kent." He took a deep breath. "I am Clark Kent. It's not like I want to be just him, not anymore. But without him... who am I? What did my parents raise? Some stranger in a blue suit who never even had a life on this planet?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "And I know. I had a life on this planet, but Superman didn't. Superman just appeared out of the blue from a long-gone planet and adopted Earth. But Clark Kent... he was here. He was in a school play as broccoli and he liked banana-mayonnaise sandwiches and he..."
"Stop!" She was massaging her temples.
"Jesus!" He moved to her. "I'm sorry for the overload. I didn't mean to burden you with..."
"No. I just can't hear that fast." She closed her eyes and leaned back. "Double life. I get it. I'm one of the few people that would, considering my situation."
He found himself smiling. "You always understood. Even before. Every time I felt lost, there you were. Every time I needed to... unload." He dropped his smile. "Not that I expect you to always... I mean, just because you know on some level now... I don't expect you to be like... like..."
"Chloe?" She opened her eyes. "You're thinking about her. What she did."
"Her?"
"Her..." She sighed. "I guess I mean me, but I still see her as her most times." She caressed a book with a green cover. "Maybe not all times, but most times." She glanced up. "So the cops can't get Mannheim on anything, Sawyer wants you to get dirty, and Victor thinks you're ungrateful, and Lionel Luthor had a box that Mannheim may or not have."
"Oh, he has it," Clark growled. "Just because we can't prove anything doesn't mean I don't know." He groaned. "The worst part is that there's this part of me that doesn't want the police to get him before I get a hold of it, whatever it is. If it's Lionel's and its lead, then it has to do with me."
She shook her head. "Why would Lionel and lead automatically mean..."
"I can't see through lead," he grunted. "And Lionel knew it. Maybe he didn't want me to know what was in it."
"I got some on Lionel from the guys, but I thought, in the end, he ended up on the right..."
"He did. And that's another problem. Lead can also protect me. What if he was trying to shield me from whatever was inside?" He rubbed at his eyes. "That's even worse. If Intergang has it..."
"Then get it," Lois said quickly, standing. "With the police or not, you have to..."
"It's not like I can run around, looking through walls and listening to whispers and questioning thugs about some box. It would look weird, me being so interested. If Superman is tied to Luthor, then he's tied to Smallville and Clark Kent and..."
"And why can't Clark Kent do the digging? He's tied to Smallville and the Luthors already."
"That's what I thought. But what can Clark Kent do?"
"Am I missing something," she asked, nearly rolling her eyes, "or can Clark Kent do everything Superman can? Why can't Clark Kent go around looking through walls and listening to whispers and questioning thugs?"
"Because he... he can't do that stuff," he finished lamely.
She shook her head. "I think someone is taking a double identity a little far."
"I don't know. I always thought it was unfair to use Superman's abilities for the story. I try not to do that. Even with Met Vista, I tried to keep it to what Clark could reasonably know. Otherwise, it just... Well, it wouldn't be fair."
She stood back, staring at him. "Wow."
"What?"
"It's just... you. I guess it all keeps coming together, who you are." She smiled and looked away. "It's why I can't stay mad at you even when I want to. You really are everything you're supposed to be." She met his eyes, staring into them in a way he knew too well. It was a look he wished for and dreaded. It said he could save the world. It said it didn't matter if he couldn't.
And he didn't deserve it. "Lois..."
"No, Clark, listen to me..." She gripped his arm. "This isn't just a story. Well..." She shrugged. "In the end, there might be a hell of a story, but this is more than that. If getting this box means you can have both your lives, then Clark Kent might need to do whatever Superman can to get it. It's not like anyone's going to know. I'm not saying you're supposed to be obvious, but if you can get through some doors that Superman can't, then you do it. And if Superman can see and hear a few things that Clark Kent couldn't reasonably find out, then you keep that filed away for later. It might take the both of you to get to the bottom of this." She took a deep breath. "And maybe a former sidekick and current coworker to help you along the..."
"Lois, no."
"No?" She pursed her lips. "I thought we established that I'm an adult who can make her own..."
"I'm not arguing that. But I don't want you on this. It could be dangerous."
"Really?" She crossed her arms. "I guess Met Vista was a harmless lark."
"It wasn't supposed to be that dangerous for you."
"Actually, it ended up more dangerous for you."
"Me is one thing. But you... it's just different."
"Are you saying I'm weak? That I can't handle danger?"
"I'm saying that I want you safe."
"Because, even without all I've learned, I've handled a lot only recently and actually saved your..."
"I don't want to fight," he growled. "There's only three days left and I just want you to get back to your normal life."
"Considering I'm an amnesiac reporter with a past I can't even remember and I've been driving myself crazy trying to put the damned pieces together, there is no such thing as my normal life," she snapped before taking a breath. "I'm doing the best I can, Clark. Do you even know what goes into my day now? I'm poring over these god damned books and breathing deep in downward-facing dog and hacking into the Navy's servers and you're still treating me like a helpless child! Let's see you handle this!"
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to..."
"No, really. Let's see any of you ordering me around... Let's see you lose your whole life and try to get it back in less than a week."
"I know it's a lot of work."
"Damned right it is! And I'm trapped here with a every minute scheduled and no car..."
"I'll get your car," he said quickly. "I can drive it back and... Damn it!" He gripped her arm. "See, that's the problem. These faints. What if you're driving and..." He took a deep breath. "Okay. Someone else can drive. If you need to go to Metropolis so badly..."
"Oh, never mind," she cut in, shrugging him off. "I don't want to go to Metropolis. Not now, anyway."
"But earlier you said you wanted to..."
"That was earlier. I don't know what I want." She ran a hand through her hair and sat down again. "Earlier, I had a reason. Earlier, I was supposed to go to Thrifty Rentals and figure out who leased the car that was following me. That mystery seems to be solved. Now there's a new one."
She pushed the green book she'd been toying with earlier away and he saw a larger one underneath. He saw her picture, wedged in a row of others with names down one side. She looked like a kid.
"Is that..."
"It's Smallville High, freshman year. I'm kind of working my way through. I was putting this off, but with the new blast from the past... I thought high school deserved a glance."
*********************
Lois sighed. "I'm glancing and glancing, but not exactly absorbing it. Like... Who's this?" She ran her fingers over a handwritten message on the edge of a page. "Chloe, U R the best. C U next year, Danielle Reilly."
"Uh..." Clark straightened and moved behind her, staring at the page over her shoulder.
She moved her hand from the writing to a picture of a sort of chubby girl with braces. "See, her."
"That's Danielle Reilly."
"Well, I got that." She looked up at him, then rolled her eyes away.
"I don't know. I don't even remember seeing her around."
"Well, your eyes were otherwise engaged, from what I heard."
He moved back to the table and leaned on it. "And what have you heard?"
He kept his eyes on her, but she decided not to answer, turning back to the book. "It's not a very personal message, anyway. Maybe I wrote something similar in her book."
"Not you. You hate using letters instead of words."
"Good to know," she said, nodding. She pointed to another message. Chloe, writing in yearbooks is stupid. And so are you. Pete." She traced toward a picture of a black boy with an impish kind of smile.
Clark laughed slightly and leaned over. "That's Pete."
"Again, I can get that from the names printed on the..."
"No. That's Pete Ross. He was my best friend, growing up."
"I thought we were..."
"Well, that was before you moved to town. You were kind of... added. The three of us were pretty much inseparable after you moved to town."
She frowned at the picture. "I remember seeing his name when I was reading The Torch. But there's was so much to go through at once." She braced herself. "Okay. Just level with me. How did it happen?"
"How did what happen?"
"If I read his name in The Torch, it must be one of those memorials. I think most of what I read... or wrote, apparently, was obit-oriented. So who got him? Was it the kid with the ice touch or the bee girl or..."
"No," Clark said quickly. "No one got him. If you read his name, it's because he worked on the torch. We both did, when we weren't... busy." He sighed and shrugged. "or lazy."
"So he didn't..."
"Pete moved to Wichita Junior year and... we kind of fell out of touch."
"With your best friend?"
"There's been a lot going on and he... I don't know. I told Pete my secret and these guys put pressure on him and... It was too dangerous for him. He wanted a normal life. Something you don't get when you're friends with me."
"And I guess I didn't?" She shrugged. "I mean, not just then. Later, I guess I just..." She shook herself and turned back to the book. "Anyway, is that how I moved up the ranks?"
"Huh?"
"To best friend. Pete left, so I got promoted."
"You weren't promoted because Pete left. You were always equally..." He stopped. "Okay. That's not true. It was sometimes... harder with you than with Pete. I was just so afraid you'd find out what I was."
"But you weren't afraid of Pete finding out?"
"I was afraid of everyone," he corrected, "but especially you."
"Did you think I'd judge you or... I mean, I know the kind of stories I wrote."
"I know. And I was afraid of being one of them. Because you were always so... dogged about finding the truth in everything. That's pretty scary to a kid used to hiding."
"So I was scary?"
"Terrfying." He smiled. "I don't know why now. You never judged me."
"Well, you saving lives constantly probably had a thing or two to do with it." She smiled at her page. "So I took it well when you told me?"
"I didn't actually tell you. You witnessed it. You thought I was a meteor freak. I remember your Wall of Weird disappeared after that."
"Wall of Weird?"
"It's what you called it. You used to put up news clippings and pictures relating to every wacky occurrence in Smallville."
"And you thought you'd be on it?" she asked sadly.
"I was a scared kid, as I said. It was hard to look past that and see what you told me, almost from the start." He smiled. "I remember, long before you found out about me, you told me how you felt about alien visitors. You thought it was cool. You were always into the weird and otherworldly."
She giggled. "So us being friends was a perfect fit."
"More than perfect." His eyes were warm.
"And I didn't move away."
"No. You were... more than Pete. You were more than I could hope for in a friend, a secret-keeper. Sometimes I wish you'd known from the start."
She straightened in her chair, looking away. "I couldn't have been that perfect."
He cleared his throat. "No, actually. You were a pain in the ass."
She looked up at that. "Was I?"
"Sure. You were a girl. Pete got it. Pete wanted to have fun and have me run to Metropolis for snacks after midnight. But you wanted to investigate and save people..." He groaned. "You were so pushy about the heroics." He leaned in. "You even made me give out toys one Christmas."
"Why isn't that fun?" She scoffed. "That sounds fun. And I probably wanted you to make a difference. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. It was also the constant snarky comments, giving my powers little names. One time, you asked me if super whining was one of my abilities..."
"So I was a bitch?" She leaned back in her chair again. "I wonder how you put up with me."
"It wasn't easy." He shook his head sadly, then seemed to give it up, chuckling. "I didn't know what to think of you when I first met you. Then again, you were my first female friend."
"Yeah?"
"I couldn't talk to girls. I couldn't even get near them. I mean, I usually didn't bother trying except for L... Well, I couldn't talk to girls," he finished, nodding to himself. "Then you came along and talking wasn't an issue considering you talked enough for both of us."
"You..." She picked up a pencil and tossed it at him. He caught it, grinning.
He put it down on the table beside him. "Anyway, you were the first girl I ever brought to my house."
"Really?"
"It was your idea. I said I lived on a farm and you said you wanted to 'experience it,' like it was something so otherwordly to you." He smiled. "I guess it was, the way you went on and on about hoping we get The Daily Planet 'out here,' like this was the far reaches or..."
"I was a snob?"
"Definitely." He laughed and shook his head. "No. Just a city type. We'd had outsiders like you 'out here' before..."
"Says the alien."
"Anyway, I showed you around, then brought you up here and you..." He stopped, staring at a spot behind her. "You gave me my first kiss."
"I did?"
"You said I'd been thinking about it all day, and we should get it out of the way and be friends." His eyes moved back to her.
"How'd that work out?" she whispered.
"I'm still waiting on that." His eyes cleared and he swallowed hard. "I mean... We were friends from that day on. Me and you."
"And Pete," she said, shaking herself and staring at his picture again. Business. Back to business. "Pete who's in Wichita." She straightened in her chair. "So does he know about me?"
"No. He couldn't know."
"But Lana Lang knows."
"Yes."
"And Lana was my best friend?"
"Well, it was more like..."
"And what about Lex?"
Clark stiffened. "What about him?"
"Word has it the two of you were best friends."
"Well... Before... It was kind of complicated and... he changed down the line and..."
"Yes. It's complicated and confusing." She rubbed her eyes and leaned on the table. "But was everybody best friends when we grew up?" She flipped a few pages past sophomores, juniors, seniors... "Seems it loses its meaning when absolutely everyone is 'best friends.' I guess it's just two words strung together..."
"No, it's not," he cut in harshly. "Not for us. We were... at least you were always..." He took a deep breath. "I know those words get thrown around, but not for us. We were more than that."
He seemed so intent and she wondered, again, what they'd been to each other then. Dating didn't seem to describe it. Friends didn't, either. She got nothing out of the rest of them on this. The general consensus seemed to be that Clark was the one to ask. And it was so hard to just ask him because when she was with him... she sometimes felt she didn't need to. That she knew already just from these gazes that were so off-putting before, but now seemed so familiar. It was as if they'd been here, even in this very place so many times before, staring into each other in just this way. And maybe they had. She turned her attention back the yearbook, quickly turning a page. She couldn't ask. She was afraid of the answer. As familiar as these gazes had become, they were still off-putting. They still left her sort of shaky. There was too much in them.
He smiled at her sort of sheepishly. "Both? I wish there was more for you to see of us. At the time, I never thought this yearbook would be so important..."
"Don't feel too guilty. It's only a quarter page of The Torch. I mean they have to squeeze in Glee Club and Amnesty International and Model U.N. all on this page, too, to leave room for..." She turned a page and nodded. "As I suspected. More room for sports. Baseball gets two pages," she muttered. "Same for Basketball, football..." She glanced up at him. "Where are you? I thought you played football."
"Not till senior year. My dad took a while to get on board with me playing with my abilities. He thought it would be unfair if..."
She put a hand up. "Let's save it for that year. I have enough to go on as it is. I was looking for..." She turned a page, then drew back. "I knew it. There it is." He leaned forward and she gestured to the page. "Even cheerleading gets a whole page," she muttered. "I'll never get yearbooks."
"Lois, that's La..."
"No. I see it. Lana Lang."
"Listen, if you want to talk about her, I understand."
"Well, sure. Just taking it in, getting the measure of her." She nodded. "Head cheerleader... Oh. And homecoming queen," she added, glancing at the next page. "I should have guessed."
"You know, she's really not like that. That was just freshman year," Clark said. "She got out of all that later to leave time to run The Talon."
"The Talon? You mean the big coffee shop on Main Street? She ran it?"
"Well, that was only for a few years. She got a scholarship and went to an art school in Paris after junior year."
"She paints, too?"
"No." Clark furrowed his brow. "She never painted. But she... I don't know. She seemed interested in photography, so I think she did that for a while."
"In Paris," Lois breathed. "So she's a photographer?"
"No. She ended up taking classes in astronomy in college."
"So she became an astronomer?"
"No. She actually stopped going to college when she married and then she..." He frowned at the floor.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just... I never really thought about it. She never exactly picked a path."
Lois could think of more problems with Lana Lang than that. "Some people don't know what they want to do."
"Not you," he said, turning to her. "You always knew what you wanted to do."
She turned from his gaze, trying to get back to business again. "Well... what does Lana... or Lorna do now?"
"She runs a coffee shop in Florida."
Lois squinted at him. "Isn't that her path, then? I mean, she did it and now it's... what she does."
"I don't know. I think it's more something she knows how to do from before. Not like she likes it. With The Talon, she was doing it because she thought it was important for the town. I don't think it was some real passion for coffee. I think she just... cared about Smallville. She doesn't exactly say it, but... I don't think she's happy."
"No. I don't think so, either," she said, remembering the way Lana's smile dropped as Clark walked away in the hallway, her whispering to herself. I can do this. I can. I'm almost... She didn't know her well, as things stood, but she could see that this was not a happy woman. "I don't trust her," she found herself saying.
"I know she didn't tell you about her name right away, but she was just..."
"It's not that. It's... I don't know what it is. I just... Why did she make me faint?"
"There have been other times you fainted. I think it's just when there's too much new information, then it's more than a person can handle at..."
"No. I get fainting the other times I've done it. I've actually been going over them and it... it actually makes sense to faint. What the hell else are you going to do at a time like that? I could see it, after I found out you were Superman at Cottonwood Creek, but Linda let me in on Cottonwood Creek and what happened there with the men and the real Linda King and the... bodies." She shuddered slightly. "That's a lot. Those two things combined, I can get a person fainting. I can also get why it happened in the snow castle..."
"Fortress," Clark cut in.
"Alien technology and crystals and disembodied voices. That was a lot to take in. I fainted again after I confronted all of you and I finally got the Linda, Lois, Lucy connection... That's a lot. But seeing an old friend... fainting at the sight of her..." She shook her head. "I don't get it."
"It's just that it was new to you."
"You were new to me once. Your mother..." She stood and pointed to the wall nearest the house. "I met her on Thanksgiving. I didn't drop to the floor. Even when I met the rest of them in The Tower, I... I was fine. I even remembered them, these bits he never got from me, somehow. But Lana... There's nothing. I wracked my brain tonight, trying to get anything about her. Nothing. Then there are these pictures..." She strode over to the albums."I went through photo albums and there she is, right next to me, smiling and why... why would that make me faint? You and I are splashed all over the place and I'm not dropping off every time I see you. But this girl is supposed to be like a sister to me and I fainted just on seeing her, Clark. Twice in a row now."
"Lois, there were also other factors. That first morning, there was all the excitement of Mannheim's stunt and tonight, that thing with the rental car following you had you..."
"That's another thing," she said, moving back to Clark. "She was following me. Clark, that car was behind me from Metropolis to Smallville. I even saw it staked out at my apartment a few times. Luckily, that was after I changed my locks, so that car didn't scare me so..."
"Lois..." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Breathe."
"I'm breathing. I'm fine. I'm just trying to figure out why some supposed best friend and sister would be so..."
"You're not breathing. You're talking."
"Okay, then." She took a breath, then another. "So why was she tailing me? Because I still think that's a little..."
"She wasn't tailing you. She was just... following you." He let her go, then moved away, running a hand roughly through his hair. "I don't know. Lana hasn't exactly been honest, but considering she's a dead woman, she's probably a little on-edge. But Lana said she was trying to get up the guts to talk to you, but she was scared to. I think I know why and it... kind of makes sense."
"Then let me in. Because this is all a little much."
He gestured to the chair. "Could you sit?"
"Why? Is this faint worthy? Because maybe I should save us all time and lay down on the floor now."
"No. It's just a long story."
She sighed and took the chair.
Clark perched on the table again and took a deep breath. "If Lana was nervous to speak to you, she had a good reason. The last time you two spoke, it wasn't pleasant."
"What did I..."
"No. It wasn't anything you did. It was something she did. You didn't exactly approve of the way she... ended her marriage," he finished carefully.
"You mean by faking her death? Because I, of all people, cant judge…"
"No. I don't think that was the issue. It was that she was implicating Lex in her murder."
"Oh.” She grew silent. “But if he did all the bad things he did... Why would I defend him?"
"It wasn't about defending him. It was about the truth." He shrugged and smiled slightly. "It always was with you. You wanted Lex to go down as much as anyone, but not based on a lie. Anyway, you and Lana didn't part well. I think that's why she was afraid to approach you. Of course, she didn't know she wasn't approaching you as you were."
"But she called me Lois."
"She knew you changed your name, but she didn't know about... what happened."
"You mean what I did?"
"What happened," he said firmly
She decided to drop that for now. "It seemed like she knew when I spoke to her."
"I told her. I thought it was best if she knew that you... didn't know."
"But... Clark, I'm trying to give this girl the benefit of the doubt, but... There's something about her... I... I feel it in my..." She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she should stop going on about her gut. Her gut had her nearly working for Lex Luthor... but it wasn't as if she trusted him. She possibly trusted that he was as screwed as she was. But there was that feeling with him, something that told her to keep watch and tread carefully. She felt the same thing with Lana. But she couldn't explain it. It was a feeling. And maybe it was a wrong one. She'd had them before. "She was really my best friend?"
"No," Clark said quickly. "You and Lana weren't..." He sighed. "When we were young and stupid, we all tossed that word around, I guess. I would never call you best friends. But she's not exactly wrong when she says you were like sisters. You were tied up in each others' lives. She even lived with you and your father for a while. You were her maid of honor. You shared most classes in high school. You eventually ended up closer because you were just tied up with a lot of the same things."
"Including you," Lois said, staring at her hands. Clark was silent, so she went on. "This isn't exactly my first foray into high school. After you got rid of my info stockpile, I managed to get The Torch, at least, from another source and he gave me a little more info."
He shook his head. "Got rid of your..."
"Clark, you can fess up now. I get that you were doing it to protect me and, since we've agreed that stops now and I've decided to let bygones be bygones, just say you're sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"You know for what." She stood. "You know, the articles, the disks, my broken laptop..." She trailed off as he stared at her blankly. "They went mysteriously missing from my apartment just after you were there?"
"I..." He squinted. "I remember you had some articles, but I didn't..."
"Some articles? Luthor sent me more than just some."
He straightened. "Luthor? I thought you agreed to stop..."
"Clark, don't change the subject. This is way before I agreed to that. He'd asked me to look into Smallville. And sent me some resources. And it doesn't matter who they were from. You took them without..."
"I didn't take them."
"But you took that T-shirt and that was when..."
"Yes. I took the T-shirt because of what I smelled, but I didn't take anything else. I thought you said you'd been through The Torch and The Ledger and..."
"Yes, but I had to get it all again through other sources because I sure as hell wasn't going to Luthor again."
"Thank God for that."
She frowned and sat down again. "You didn't take them?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Lois, there may have been a lot going on at the time, but I'd remember if I robbed your apartment."
She shook her head. "Maybe Ollie..."
"I think he'd have told me if he did something like that."
"But who would..."
"There's an easy answer here, Lois." He sighed. "Luthor. He must have taken it back."
"No. He..." She stopped herself before saying Lex had told her he hadn't. She wasn't about to tell Clark she'd seen Luthor twice since she promised not to. It wasn't in her control at the time, but there'd be another Luthor tirade and she really didn't want to hear it. She was here for Chloe. "Maybe he did," she finally said. But it didn't seem like he had. He'd said he hadn't. Then again, he wasn't exactly a paragon of honesty or stability. "Doesn't matter," she said, shaking it off. "I've changed my locks since then, anyway and added some more. I'll just be sure to keep using them."
"Maybe Victor could set you up with a security system and some cameras just in case..."
"Clark," she groaned, rubbing her eyes, "I appreciate everything you're all trying to do, but I think I'm going to draw the line at high tech booby traps in my apartment. Besides, it doesn't matter now. I got everything back, in a way, thanks to Franklin and the library and the archives and..."
"Who's Franklin?" Clark cut in.
"He's just this guy. He's got everything on the school for about a decade, at least. I only got to see his Torch stuff, but he's got an impressive collection." She took her hands from her eyes. Clark seemed to be glowering a bit. "In his basement," she added. "In his parents' house. Where he lives."
Clark seemed to relax a bit. "Oh. I was just thinking maybe... Hard to know who to trust these days and..."
"Oh, sure." A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. "Amateur historians are a dangerous bunch."
He smiled, catching her eyes and there it came again, some glimmer of what they were to each other. At moments, it seemed like it must have been something wonderful. She rolled her eyes away with a smile and they fell on the yearbook again, on Lana. Her smiled dropped. She couldn't bask in these gazes forever. It was time to ask the questions. The ones with the answers she didn't want to hear.
"Anyway, due to Franklin's entirely inappropriate relationship with Smallville High, I got more than The Torch out of him. I got some juicy gossip."
"What kind of gossip?" He sounded kind of shaky.
"Just stupid high school kid stuff," she went on, toying with a corner of the page. "It seems one Chloe Sullivan only had eyes for Clark Kent who, in turn, only had eyes for Lana Lang." He was silent and she finally looked up. "So I take it that's accurate." He was still looking away. She felt strangely disappointed. She supposed she should have known, meeting Lana Lang/Lorna Leery, the cheerleading photographer/astronomer and homecoming queen, that anyone would be enamored of her. But there was this piece of her that hoped Franklin had it wrong. That there was more to the story. That Chloe Sullivan had been more than a faithful friend to Clark Kent. That those feelings... and she couldn't deny that they had been there and still were... that those feelings were somehow more than one-sided. "So that's the story." She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "This is the story nobody would tell me? I could have taken it. It's not that crazy. I mean... Chloe Sullivan was a good friend and a little sweet on the hero. So she sacrificed a lot to the hero cause and then... it became too much. She decided to wipe herself clean."
"No." He looked at her then. "That's not how it is. You didn't decide... you couldn't have..."
"But her best friend, said hero, felt so guilty that he had to keep watching over her, even after. His guilt even made him... God, Clark. I wish you hadn't done it now."
"Done what?"
She stood up and moved away towards the wide window. "You kept going on about giving me what I needed. And you're so over-protective and the way you keep saving me... I didn't get it until now."
"Get what?" she heard behind her.
"Don't make me say it," she whispered before remembering he could hear.
"Say what?" He sounded angry now.
"Jesus, Clark... You know what." She turned back to him. "Us. What happened. That weekend and in the caves... I get it now."
His eyes narrowed. "You get it?"
"Would you stop echoing me?" she yelled before taking a deep breath. "It all makes sense now."
His mouth opened and closed. "Makes sense..."
"Stop that! Do I have to spell it out?" She calmed herself again. "What happened between us was... you giving something to Chloe. Something she wanted." She smiled sadly. "You. I don't know. Maybe you thought she'd earned it. And then I went and kept..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Christ! It's so humiliating. I kept coming on to you, pushing at you to do it again when you didn't want to." She opened her eyes and faced him. He looked sort of stiff and clenched. That familiar vein was nearly bursting in his neck. "Clark, calm down. I won't do it anymore. That's what I'm trying to say. Okay?"
He held her eyes, taking a breath so deep, she feared he'd blow her out the window with it. Then he sort of deflated, turning and moving to the steps. She let out a shaky breath herself as he disappeared down them. It hurt to face the truth, but this was for the best. It would only confuse things if she didn't face it now that...
"Screw this!"
She barely heard the words before she found herself lifted up and propelled backward. She thought she might hit the barn wall hard before she jerked to a stop, eyes focusing on the blur that was Clark. She felt herself pressed against the wall, then. Her toes just brushed the floor. Her arms were pressed to her sides. She barely registered these things before her partner and apparent best friend mashed his lips to hers. It was messy and rough and she really shouldn't like it.
She hardly had time to like it before his lips were gone. Not gone. On her neck, now, latching on just under her ear. Then his hands were gone from her arms. Yet her feet still dangled, held up by his hips and his... "Oh, God!"
He was hard. Very much so. His hips pressed into her, pushing her legs apart and her body higher, as his hands grasped her waist, hips, neck, breasts... She couldn't keep track of them. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
Her eyes snapped open as he started pulling at her sweater.
There was another problem. She wasn't sure he wanted to. She was not about to accept another pity fuck. She pulled at his hair. He only sucked harder at her neck. "Clark..."
"Lois. God..."
"No. Clark. Stop it."
And he did, immediately releasing her skin with an audible pop, though he stayed pressed against her, his breath coming in pants against her neck. "I'm sorry," he breathed.
"No. I'm sorry. I keep trying to..."
His face was suddenly before hers. "Will you shut up about that?" His eyes pinned her surely as his hands did, pressing her against the wall again. "You didn't try anything. I did."
"I think what I said made you feel you had to..."
"Shut up. I don't have to."
She'd never seen him like this. It was like... deep denial or something. "Of course you don't. And maybe you can't see it, but these feelings of guilt..."
"No. It's not because I feel guilty. I obviously don't feel guilty enough or I wouldn't be doing this. I want you," he breathed. His hands softened on her arms and her feet touched the floor. But his hands stayed, moving downward, fingers glancing over the inside of her arms. "I want you all the fucking time." His hands moved to her waist, then skated up to her breasts. "If I had a choice, I'd do nothing but fuck you all day."
"Uhh..."
"I'm sorry." He moved away, releasing her breasts. "I meant make lo..." He shook his head. "I mean... have sex. I mean... nothing. I shouldn't even be..." He backed away. "I'm sorry I told you to shut up. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm probably just stressed or..."
She rushed forward and grasped the back of his neck. "You shut up now," she breathed before pulling his head down.
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Chapter Fourteen
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