Almost Friends (Chapter Sixteen)

Clark dialed the next number, wishing speed could somehow help with this. He was supposed to meet Victor in less than an hour and he really wanted to get this done first. It was on his list for the day and he was really, really trying to tick off items on that list -- things he could control. Maybe he couldn't control what would come Monday or anything Lois did or didn't do, but he could damned well find a book.

"Sorry. We don't have it."

Or not.

"Can you find out if any other branches might have it. I don't care where they're located."

"Sir, if I could order it from another branch, I'd have that info. Now if you want T.S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical..."

"No, I don't," he said, for what felt like the millionth time. "I want his Complete Poems and Plays."

"Well, I'm sorry, Sir. But it's not in stock. From what I gather, that book stopped printing in 2001. But if you're looking for good poetry, might I suggest Kerouac? It'll change your life, I swe..."

"Thanks, anyway," he said, ending the call. He was sick of being pointed to other poets. He just wanted some damned Eliot.

This was supposed to be an easy task. Replace Lois' ruined book. He was supposed to be able to do that much for her. But he couldn't find it online. He couldn't find it through any major store.

He needed just one good thing after today. Sure, he'd formed a sort of uneasy alliance with Sawyer, but that meant a week with no work. And a week with no work meant talking to Perry yesterday and absolutely humiliating himself, whining about how hard everything was and how stressed he was with all the pressure and he'd be lucky if Perry let him fetch coffee when he got back. Perry seemed mildly disgusted, but it could have been worse. He might have been livid if he wasn't counting on Lois being back.

And he doubted, with how she felt about him now, that she'd do anything to plead his case for coming back to his old desk. He tried to comfort himself with the idea that, when this was over, he could tell Perry what he'd been doing and placate him with a story of some sort.

But that was little comfort because he was still not sure he'd even be back. Whatever Lionel was hiding, he needed to get to it... and before the police did. If it was a danger to him, he needed to destroy it. If it was in aid of him, he needed to have it. And with Lionel, he was still not sure of which scenario he was looking at.

He put that aside. It was Friday. He had a whole weekend before he could even start. For now, he'd have one win for the day.

He flipped to the rare books section as he had obviously destroyed a rare book... just his luck. He dialed the first number.

"Thank you for calling Das Book Haus. Your call is very important to us. Please hold for..."

He groaned at the recording, feeling like he'd never get off the phone.

**************************

Lois wondered if she'd ever get off the damned phone.

"I'm not saying anything's wrong with it. I have nothing against vacations, just... Why now?"

She sighed heavily and flopped over on the bed. "Linda, I'm just having a break. Jeez!"

"But why now? I mean, things were going so well. Or are they? Because I didn't absolutely have to go. I can be there in hours. I'm still clear to fly and..."

"Please don't." That was all she needed right now. "I really am fine."

"But... I don't get it. I only left because I thought you'd be okay for a week. But you obviously aren't." She sighed wearily. "You fell apart the moment I left. I knew it!"

"I did not. I didn't fall apart and it had nothing to do with you leaving."

"It didn't?" Lois heard a sniffle on the other end. She groaned, trying to keep up with the mood swings.

"Listen," she began, trying to walk that line where she assured Linda that she didn't need her to fly there this minute, but also made her feel extremely important. It was tricky. "I miss you like crazy, but I know I'll see you Christmas Eve. I also know that Star City needs you right now. Aren't you supposed to be giving toys out at the orphanage tonight? Think of those kids when the mayor and his wife show up just to make their Christmas a little..."

"Oh, don't patronize me. If you don't want me, just say so."

Lois shifted with the new swing. "Of course I do, I just... I don't need you. This is not an emergency."

"But I don't get it." She wished she hadn't answered the phone. Linda just wouldn't let go. "We finally tell you everything and now you just... you don't want to know?"

"It's not about me wanting or not wanting to know. It's about me not spending my life studying someone who doesn't exist anymore." She gripped the phone cord in her hands. And you obviously didn't tell me everything.

"Doesn't exist? How can you say that?"

"Very easily." She stood and paced the room. "Chloe Sullivan is legally dead. I don't think me taking a few days off from studying her every move is an urgent matter."

"There's something to this. There's something you aren't telling me."

"Why don't you turn that statement around?" she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"No. I heard you and that is not fair. Everything you asked, I told you. I mean... once you knew. We all did. We gave you full disclosure."

"That's bullshit," Lois stopped her pacing and finally snapped. "You didn't. You held back and you know it! You knew about me and... and him." She squeezed her eyes shut. This was it. This was what she was afraid of. This was why she was happy to let Martha deal with the lot of them. She didn't want to do this. She knew they were trying to help, but she was still so angry and humiliated at the idea that they knew.

Linda was silent on the other end. "You know?"

"That I was a superhero sidebag?" she said shakily, dropping to the bed again. "Yes. That's pretty clear now." She took deep breaths, trying to calm down. "But the worst... the fucking worst part of everything is that everybody knew..."

"Lois, calm down."

"Did you all pity me? Shake your head about the silly girl..."

"Everybody didn't know."

"Really? Then why did every one of you keep telling me to ask Clark? You knew there was something to ask."

"Yes. That there was something. But not everything." Linda sighed heavily. "They're not to blame and they don't know the whole story. The only one that knew everything is... It's me. I knew."

Lois closed her eyes, anger leaving her body in a flood of hurt. "My only family..."

"I know. Okay? And I'm sorry. So sorry," Linda said, her voice hitching. "I just... I didn't think it was my place. I was leaving it up to him because... I still don't even get it. Okay? It was you and him, but not him, and the red meteor rocks and the memory lapses and you said he didn't know, but then he did and the red rocks were gone, and you never exactly explained the whole thing to me and... I mean, it wasn't like I wanted to know the details because... ew. And then you were running through the cornfields and you wanted to dye your hair and I figured it was over, but then he comes back and you..."

"Stop," she nearly yelled. Her head was spinning. "Just don't. I... I don't think I understood a word of that."

"But I thought he told you everything."

"Not exactly. I wasn't in the mood then."

"Okay. So I'll start from the beginning." Linda took a deep breath. "I was hanging out at Crater Lake with some jerk who kept talking to my boobs when I saw you guys totally having sex in the water and..."

"I'm not in the mood now," she cut in quickly. She didn't want to think about her and Clark and sex. It just made it worse.

"Well... I'm trying to tell you everything."

She rubbed at her eyes. "Got that. But this is not a conversation to have on the phone."

"Okay. Okay... I'll be there soon."

"No," she groaned.

"It's fine. I'll take the Bell. I'll be there before you know it. We'll have a long talk and..."

"No! Just... everyone needs to stop. I can't..." She breathed deep and sat up. "I can't let you fly out here to fill in a few blanks."

"But it's not just that. We need to repair our relationship and rebuild trust. Doctor Melcher says that trust is..."

"Linda, I could give a shit what Doctor Melcher says. I'm not letting you leave a bunch of orphans with no toys for Christmas or your entire city with no tree lighting for this. I'm fine. I don't even want to think about it. I'm going to watch movies that used to be my favorites for the first time and read treasured books I barely remember and eat fattening food and not give a shit about Clark Kent."

"Well..." Linda sounded strangely put off.

"Is that a problem?"

"No. No. It's... about time. I always hoped to hear those words, actually. It's funny... Getting what you want, I mean. It doesn't feel like you think it would. Doctor Melcher always says..."

"Linda," Lois groaned. "I have to go. That was the doorbell."

"Okay, but I really think you're sweeping our trust issues under the..."

"Really got to go. I'll call you later," she lied hurriedly. She wouldn't. She was sure Linda would beat her to it. But she wasn't lying about the doorbell. It had been ringing. Probably another one of the boys or Diana. It was almost dinner time. Didn't they get the message yet?

Still, she felt slightly less hesitant to face them. Linda said they didn't know. It was slightly less humiliating.

She heard voices. She crept out of her room and to the top of the stairs, expecting to see Martha heading one of them off at the door. She wasn't. But she still heard voices. Martha's and... a woman. She moved quietly down the stairs.

"...just wanted to drop by," she was saying. "I wanted to make sure it was okay about Christmas. Clark said it was, but I wanted to be sure..."

That wasn't Diana. Lois crept just a little further, hugging the wall. It sounded like...

"Of course it is, Lana."

So it was her, then.

"I wouldn't want to think of anyone alone at Christmas," Martha was saying. "But you didn't have to drive out here for that."

"It was nothing. I was already in town."

"Lana... Don't you think that's foolish?"

"I stayed out of the way. I guess I just... I wanted to see more of it and... not from the inside of a car."

Lois pursed her lips. The inside of a tan sedan, actually. She still hadn't forgotten that.

"Lana," Martha sighed. "It's too big a risk."

"Not for Smallville." Her voice was strangely loud in the quiet house. "Every root I have is here. It's the only place I know who I am." There was silence. "I just wanted to be here again," she said, softer now.

"No. Honey..." There was shuffling. "I understand."

"Guess you would," Lois heard Lana say with a watery sniff. "You came back, too. I heard around town you'll be on the council soon."

"Well, I don't know if..."

"No. You're a shoo-in. Everyone thinks so. At least at Fordman's Hardware." She gave a slight laugh. "I might have eavesdropped."

"Still. Lana... Think what you're doing. You were well-known in this town. If someone saw..."

"Sometimes I don't care. I almost want them to know me. But they don't. I'm just... some stranger sitting in a coffee shop that was once mine. And I hate it." Lois crept down the last step and peeked around the wall. Lana was on the couch, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. Martha was next to her, a hand on her knee.

"Lana, you made the decision to..."

"I know what I did," she said. "I'll probably always regret... everything I've done. But sometimes I think... What if I could make it right?" She sat up straighter and turned to Martha. "What if I could somehow come back to my town? It's all I want," she said... and honestly. Lois' eyes widened as she realized that, in the few times she'd been in the presence of Lana Lang, this was one time she seemed completely honest. "I want my life back."

"Oh, Lana." Martha pulled her in. "You know as well as I do that you can't change the past. But you can try to... something more... and maybe..."

Martha was getting muffled in Lana's damnably shiny hair. Lois leaned a little further out, trying to hear. But the world tilted crazily and she found herself on her back, her legs sprawled on the stairs above her.

"Lois!" Martha's face leaned over her. "What happened?"

"Are you alright?" Lana appeared as well.

Lois tried to talk, but the wind was knocked out of her and she only managed a rusty squeak.

"Oh, Sweetie." Martha leaned down. "Let's get you up..."

"Don't move her," Lana said quickly. "We need to call the paramedics."

"Oh, she only..."

"I suffered a serious leg injury once," Lana said gravely. "I know what I'm talking about."

"I'm fine," Lois grunted feebly.

Lana leaned further down. "You fell down the stairs," she said loudly... and very slowly as if Lois was having trouble understanding her. "But you'll be just fine." She turned to Martha. "She might have a head injury, too." She faced Lois again. "How many fingers am I..."

"Jesus," Lois growled, scooting backwards and sitting up. "I only fell down two steps." She stood. "See? No broken bones."

Martha rubbed at her back. "Well, you gave us quite a start. Are you sure you're..."

"I'm okay. Really. I was just coming down for dinner and... I stepped wrong," she lied, trying to concentrate on brushing herself off. It sounded so much better than I was listening in and fell right over.

"Oh, dinner." Martha threw her hands up. "I'd better check the pot roast."

"You're making your pot roast?" Lana asked. "The one with the tiny potatoes and the gravy?"

"Yes. Would you like to stay for dinner?" she finally asked. Lois might have been imagining it, but Martha seemed sort of conflicted.

Lana shook her head. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, don't be silly. It's no trouble." She tossed what seemed like a worried glance at Lois. "No trouble at all," she repeated, moving to the kitchen with one more look back.

Lois stared after her, wishing she was checking the pot roast. She wouldn't know how to do such a thing, but it was better than being stuck in this room with this stranger who was supposed to be like a sister to her.

She turned to Lana, trying for a bland smile. "Martha's great."

"Yes. I've always loved Mrs. Kent." Lana tossed that smile back.

Always, huh? "I suppose I must have, too," she said, remembering that she had a past here, too. "Loved Martha, I mean." She emphasized the name, the first name. Martha had told her to call her Martha. That was something, at least.

"I hear you're learning so much," Lana said, still with that fake smile. Lois couldn't hold it against her this time. She knew hers was just as genuine.

"From who?" she asked.

"From Clark. He didn't go into much detail, of course." She smiled again. "He had other things on his mind."

Lois found her fist clenching. "Good. Because I really don't want the details of my life, now or then, leaked to some stranger."

Lana's eyes widened. "That came out wrong. I didn't mean... I just meant he seemed really busy with work." She squeezed her eyes shut. "And I'm not a stranger. Not to you. If you knew..."

"But I do know." On some level, she knew that this woman was the reason for her humiliating past. Chloe Sullivan only had eyes for Clark Kent and Clark Kent only had eyes for Lana Lang and somewhere in the middle of all that, for five years, Clark Kent and Chloe Sullivan did the nasty -- even in a lake once, per Linda -- with no actual relationship because Clark Kent was too in love with this woman. This woman who smirked as she said Clark was too busy to spare a thought for her. "I know you and Clark have a history. Message received. Why don't you two just run off and study history together and leave me alone." She moved to the stairs, but Lana grabbed her arm.

"Don't go. I'm... I'm doing this all wrong. I need you," she rasped.

Lois found herself stopping, once again, arrested by something that seemed honest. "You need me?" She turned back to Lana.

"I wanted to check on you... for Clark."

Lois narrowed her eyes. Lana's eyes darted away as she said it. It was a tell. "For Clark?"

"Not just for Clark." Lana met her eyes. "I need to know you're going to be okay. I do care about you. You have to know that. And I need you to... to know me again, to trust me."

Her eyes were steady and Lois couldn't help but feel she was speaking the truth now. But... "Why?" she asked, the one simple question coming to her. That one word might answer everything.

Lana stared at her for what seemed like a year. "Because I missed you," she said, smiling. "We were just like sisters, you and me."

Lois stared back at her. "Like sisters." She shook her head. "Everyone says that. Sisters..." She mulled the word over, thinking of what it meant. "They're two people, forced to co-exist in the same space, whether they like it or not. So... yes. I guess we are like sisters." She stiffened, drawing back. "I don't trust you," she said, surprised she said it, but glad she had. "I look at you and I feel..." She couldn't find a word for it. It was something between mistrust and fear and this vague feeling that this person was unwelcome to her.

"We can fix this," Lana said earnestly. "I don't know what you know or think you know, but we can rebuild that trust."

Linda had said the same thing to her. The thing about Linda was, as mad as all the secrecy and half-truths made her, she did trust Linda. She trusted that Linda was there for her. Sometimes too there.

Lana smiled hesitantly. "We can be sisters again."

She thought of Linda again and how differently these same words would be from her. That was a sister. Someone that you may be forced to exist with. Someone that may annoy you and needle you, but, in the end, you couldn't imagine your life without her. This wasn't a sister. She could easily imagine her life without this person.

"Why?" Lois asked again. But it wasn't a question. "There's really no point to it. You're some person from my past that just showed up. You can't stay around here. Not as a dead girl with your level of notoriety. When you leave again... What happens? Will we send postcards? I'm sorry." She shook her head. "But I really don't see the point in finding some connection to someone that isn't a part of my life."

Lana let go of her arm, blinking rapidly.

"I understand your need to walk down memory lane. It must be extra nice when you actually remember it. And I understand that we have common friends and I won't stand in your way. But you and me... I just don't feel it." Lois moved to the stairs. "Anyway, dinner's probably ready. I'm sure you'd like to catch up with Martha. Tell her I'll have something later."

The door creaked behind her and Lois turned on the step.

She was gone.

"Potatoes are a little dry, but I'm sure everything will be... " Martha trailed off, staring at the cracked front door. "Did Lana leave?"

"I guess so," Lois said, torn between relief and feeling like a complete, utter bitch.

Martha sighed and toyed with a dish towel. "It's just as well. I hardly know what to say to her these days and... Well, I guess you have even less to go on. But even with that, I... I sort of wish..."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind me. I just have some thing about feeding the hungry." She frowned at the door. "She seems so hungry for something."

***********************

"I'm hungry," Clark said darkly.

Bart chomped away as they moved down the hall. "Mmm-hmm."

It was six am on a Saturday. He had to jump through hoops for Bart and he couldn't even get one of the donuts he technically bought. "I lent you the money to go get those," he said, nodding to the pink box Bart was digging in as they moved down the stairs.

"I'll get it to you tomorrow," Bart said, spewing powdered sugar with each word..

As disgusting as that was, he was still hungry. "Why don't you just give me a donut and we'll call it even?"

"You're in training." Bart walked ahead just a little faster toward the front door. "I absolutely can't give you a donut because we don't want you getting fat."

"I can't get fat."

Bart pushed the door open. "Neither can I. But I can be malnourished and I absolutely can't give you a donut because I don't want to be skin and bones."

"Pick a reason," Clark grumbled, following him out.

"I just did. That was it. See, you have this super slow metabolism, but mine is ultra, extra, awesomely fast." Clark made a grab for the box, but Bart disappeared. "So you're fine. I'm the one that actually needs the donuts so I don't waste away."

"You are so full of..." Clark dove for him again. He hit the front door as Bart giggled, leaning on a parking meter.

"Now why'd you make me do that? I'm depleted again." He grabbed inside the box again. Clark seized on the momentary diversion and blew hard.

"What the..." Bart closed his eyes against a cloud of powdered sugar and Clark sped into the street, catching the box.

"Got it."

"What do you got?" Bart held up a jelly donut.

Clark opened the box. Empty. "Thanks a lot, Bart."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You want this?"

Clark moved closer. "You know I..."

Bart licked the side of it. "How about now?"

"You little..." He didn't even bother with speed, he just grabbed him around the neck and pulled him down, holding him at his side.

"Hey, let me up! You're such a sore loser."

"And you're such a brat. Hold still. You're about to get the mother of all noogies."

There was a loud whistle and Clark cringed. He hated that thing. He adjusted Bart, trying to get his hand away from his mouth.

"Jeez, Bart! You're gonna wake the whole neighborhood."

"Then let me go, you giant oaf!"

There was a giggle behind them and they both stopped struggling. Clark turned, pulling Bart with him. "Lana?"

"Hi." She giggled again and looked at Bart. "You must be Clark's running buddy."

"When I'm not suffocating," Bart said on an exaggerated choke.

"Oh, dry up." Clark released him and he stood, stretching his neck with a put-on groan. He ignored him and turned to Lana. "What are you doing here?"

"I know you're busy, so I thought I'd join you on your run."

"But..." He didn't know exactly what to say to that. He couldn't tell her that she couldn't come because this wasn't a friendly run, but a training session with a speed demon. She didn't know about Bart, about any of them. She and Bart hadn't even met. He shook his head, thinking that was one thing he should do. "Bart this is Lana... Lorna," he corrected quickly, trying to figure who could know what about whom.

"Lana's fine." She moved past him to Bart. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, I know all about you," Bart said.

Lana tilted her head. "Excuse me?"

Clark elbowed him lightly and he grunted. "Ignore him. Bart's kind of a... flirt."

"Wha..."

Clark grabbed Lana by the elbow and moved forward. "Listen, we can meet up later if you want. I just really..."

"I just thought it might be nice to have someone around who knows." She winked. "Might be more fun for you. I could even distract your friend if you want to go for a real run."

Clark laughed hollowly. "Yeah, thanks." Here he was with two people that knew his secret. But neither knew either knew. Bart might have some inkling that Lana might know, but Lana couldn't know that Bart knew or she'd wonder why he knew and that would lead to... a major headache. "But I really think..."

"There's nothing like a good run in the winter. I've missed winter." She jogged ahead.

Clark stared as her ponytail swung behind her.

He found Bart next to him. "What the hell? You aren't supposed to invite people, especially not some girl you used to stalk."

"I didn't. I just mentioned I went running with a friend." Clark rounded on him. "And I didn't stalk her."

"Well, I wasn't flirting with her. And yes you did. Linda said you used to peek at her with a telescope and..."

"Linda's a big mouth," he said testily. But he didn't have time for that problem. He stared ahead at Lana. "I'll shake her off."

Clark caught up with her in a few strides. "Lana, I get that you want to spend some time together. We can grab lunch later. I'm sure this is really boring for you."

"No. I love it. The air has this bite. It lets you know you're alive, you know?"

"Yeah, but... Isn't this dangerous? You don't even have a hat or sunglasses or..."

"Because the sun's hardly up. It's six in the morning, Clark. Besides, the only person I worry about running into is Lex and I hear he's never in the city. He doesn't even leave his house anymore."

He thought she sounded kind of cheery about that. Then again, she had a good reason to avoid him. Lex might not remember her directly, but he had to have seen at least a photo of his supposedly dead wife. "Still, you're getting kind of reckless, just running around like..."

"Oh, it's fine, Clark. I had a lovely day in Smallville yesterday." She slowed. "You should see what they did to The Talon. They covered all the original woodwork with these red drapings and black cushions. It looks like some gothic hang-out. It was supposed to be welcoming to everyone. I don't like it. Oh... But did you see Main Street? There are these murals in the alleyways now. I have to find out who the artist is. It's not like graffiti. With your mom on the council, I bet they could get more buildings beautified..."

"Lana, aren't you getting a little invested? You know you can't stay."

"I know," she said quickly. "Just wanted to check in. You know." She gave a tittering laugh. "Anyway, I stopped by your mother's."

"Oh." He tried to sound extremely disinterested. "How was she... My mom, I mean?" he amended quickly.

"Your mother was fine," she said, glancing sideways at him. "As for Lois..."

He jogged just a little closer. "Yeah?"

"I don't know. She doesn't seem to want to see me and I... I don't know. She seemed angry and... I know we didn't part well, but she doesn't know that and if she's going over who she was, then I'm a part of that. But she was so..." She slowed nearly to a stop.

"Yes?" Damn it, he wanted details.

"I just wish she was more open to me. It hurt to see her so... bitter to me."

"Bitter," he repeated. He knew why. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

But it was. Maybe Lana didn't know it, but Lois should know. It really wasn't Lana's fault.

"I just wish we could be like before. But she's so..." Lana suddenly sped up, ponytail swinging again. "I'll get over it. Endorphins help, right?" She jogged ahead. "I should join you guys tomorrow."

Clark stopped dead. How the hell was he supposed to tell her she couldn't.

"I heard that," Bart said, lagging behind him. "And she can't."

"I know that."

"This is no fun," Bart whined. "And we aren't getting anything done, either."

Lana turned, jogging backwards. "Come on, slow pokes." She winked at Clark again.

Bart rolled his eyes. "I'll show her who's a slow..."

Clark grabbed his arm. "Bart, just go with it. Just for today. I'll figure something out."

"Yeah? Well, what about now? What the hell are we going to get done today?"

Clark grabbed the whistle dangling against Bart's sweatshirt. He crushed it between his fingers and threw it far behind them. "How about that?"

"Hey!"

Clark jogged ahead at a light speed, glad one thing was accomplished today.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN