Before Sunset (Part Twenty-Seven)

When the ringing started, she rolled away from it, wishing her dad would answer. Anyone who wanted to talk to her knew to call her cell, so it was definitely for him. "God, pick up the phone," she muttered, burrowing into the covers.

"In a minute," a sleep-roughened voice said - right in her face. And it was definitely not her dad.

It came rushing back to her. Clark, Arctic, Yukon, cabins, caves, endless walking, frozen fingers and toes, moose, for crying out loud. She'd thought she was done having these rude awakenings, but there was something about being in a soft bed that really had her sleep-addled mind back home. Of course, this wasn't as rude an awakening, being in a soft bed and knowing she'd be home soon.

That had her shooting up, grabbing at the phone only to find it dead. She placed it back on the cradle and stared at it, silently begging it to ring again. She knew who it would be and she shook herself, trying to wake up and get her story straight. She'd hardly got even a little of it unraveled when it rang again. She picked it up quickly. "Yes? Hello?" she hissed, keeping an eye on Clark as he rolled toward her. Please, please be quiet? Just for a minute.

"Chloe? It's Jonathon Kent. I know we probably woke you."

"No, it's fine."

"It's not even morning. You should have let her sleep," she heard Martha's softer voice say. "I told you not to ring back after they didn't answer the first..."

"I think they'd both like to know we've crossed the border, at least."

"You've crossed the border?"

"We're at least part way there," Jonathon said. "I wanted to call Clark, but they didn't have a room in his name."

"He didn't use his name," Chloe said, maybe a little loudly. But it was about the only good excuse she'd formulated so far. Unfortunately, Clark took that moment to shoot up.

"Wha..."

She flattened herself on him and covered his mouth. "You know, that way it's safer with... with Lex and all," she finished, giving Clark a pleading look.

"Oh," Jonathon let out a breath. "But using your name, Chloe..."

"Uh... we figured Lex wouldn't be looking for me." She pressed harder when Clark started mumbling under her hand.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Jonathon said with a sigh. "He's been... Well, we'll talk about that when we get there. I'm sorry if we woke you. Could you just give us Clark's room number and..."

"Oh, you know what? Clark's just next door. I'll just grab him."

"But..."

"Don't want this to cost you too much. Be right back." Of course, Clark wasn't next door and Chloe knew very well Lex was looking for her. She also absolutely hated lying to the Kents, though not as much as Clark would. She pressed her pillow over the receiver and hissed at him. "Listen, I know you feel about the lying, but they absolutely don't need or want to know that we're sharing a room because that would lead them to other ideas, which wouldn't even be ideas because they'd be the truth and your mother will hate me for despoiling her virgin boy and that would be a hell of an awkward ride home." She took a deep breath. "So please, please, please just pretend you came from next door, tell them you got the room under an alias, and find any way not to tell them what that alias is or what room number."

She waited for him to nod before she lifted her hand and pulled out the reciever and handed it to him.

"Dad?" He motioned her closer and she leaned in to hear.

"Clark?"

"Chloe came and got me... from my room," he finished nodding at her. 

Chloe suppressed the urge to elbow him, knowing how annoying he found it now that he could, apparently, feel pain. How had she never noticed, all these years, what a terrible liar Clark was? Then again, he'd never exactly lied outright. He'd just avoided telling the truth, for the most part.

"So... how's the driving going?" he asked, giving Chloe a kind of shrug.

"We're taking shifts. It's tiring, but we're making good time. But we're still only in Winnipeg. I thought it was good news, crossing the border. But Martha says we still have another... What is it?"

"Day and a half," she heard Martha say faintly.

"Day and a half before we get to Whitehorse."

"I heard her," Clark said and Chloe could hear the guilty edge in his voice. "Well, Chloe and I can take all the shifts going back," he finished eagerly. "You two can just sleep and..."

"Clark, after what you two have been through..."

"No, we're fine. I mean, we're sleeping alot... in our rooms."

She did elbow him this time, but not hard. "Too much," she hissed.

"We might just take you up on that by then," Jonathon said in a hoarse voice.

"Tell Chloe we got her things from her father," she heard from Martha.

Chloe sat up straighter, jostling against Clark on the bed. "What did they tell him?"

"We got Chloe's things from..."

"She heard Mom. Chloe wants to know what you told..."

"I heard her," Jonathon cut in. "We have a long drive back to get into all that. This call is still pretty pricey. Anyway, what's your room number so we can call you when we're closer..."

Chloe pulled away and shook her head frantically.

Clark rolled his eyes slightly, then took a deep breath. "Dad, I really don't think you need to spend any more money on phone calls. We literally have nothing to do but watch and wait for you two to get here."

Jonathon sighed. "You're probably right." He paused. "Okay, then. I think we should be there late Monday afternoon. Before night, hopefully. We traded the truck for Ben Hubbard's station wagon for the week. It's Blue with..."

"Fake wood paneling on the sides. I remember."

"Are they eating?" She faintly heard Martha ask. "Ask him if they're eating. It's more important that he eats now that he doesn't have his..."

"Tell mom we're eating," he groaned. "We're fine." Chloe mentally congratulated him for not telling him what they'd been eating was donuts so far. Beside's they had ten dollars and free burgers coming tomorrow. It wasn't a lot, and probably not up to Martha Kent's dietary standards, but it was still better than endless corn.

"He says they're eating."

"I heard him. But this is Clark. He tried to tell me that gummy bears were the same as fruit."

"I was nine," Clark grumbled.

"Well, Chloe's there. I'm sure she'll make sure they..."

"Chloe thinks coffee is a food group. She's as bad as he is."

"Martha, we'll be there soon enough."

There was a pause. "Okay," she said, though she didn't sound happy about it. Chloe supposed Martha had her number, having managed the Talon for a year now.

"Okay," Jonathon said. "So Monday. Hopefully, before night. Ben's station wagon."

"Got it," Clark said.

Chloe pulled the phone nearer to her. "We'll be across the street at Tim Horton's," she put in quickly. "We'll... have to check out by then if we want money to eat."

"Sounds fine," Jonathon said.

"Vegetables," she heard Martha add.

"You heard your mother." There was a long pause. "We love you."

"Love you, too," Clark said, sounding slightly choked. The line went silent and he handed the phone to Chloe and fell back to the bed.

Chloe replaced it, then turned to him. His arm was over his eyes and she knew he was brooding about the Kents and all they'd lost and would lose. She wasn't sure what to say, so she just laid next to him, staring at the ceiling. "Does lettuce on a hamburger count as a vegetable?" she asked after a while.

Clark chuckled slightly. "Not to my mom."

"Darn."

He turned on his side and loomed slightly over her. "She's going to try to stuff us like a Thanksgiving turkey when she sees how skinny we are."

"Yeah?" Chloe pulled up the covers and glanced down at herself. "I hadn't noticed." Her pants were getting looser overy day, but it was so gradual. "Guess that's what happens when you eat too little and walk too much." Her hands moved to her ribs, feeling how pronounced they were for the first time. "Funny. I always tell myself I should lose five to ten pounds and now... I kind of want them back," she said, not too happy about it. 

"You never needed to lose any pounds," Clark said, his eyes moving over her. She suddenly realized they were still naked. She knew, but she hadn't really thought of it since she woke up. "I feel like a stick figure." He sat up and stared at his arms.

She chuckled. "Well, you look more like a pouty underwear model. They're always a little skinny. Maybe that's your new career."

He snorted at that. "Oh, sure. Clark Kent, male model. That'd be hilarious."

She sighed. If he didn't realize he might as well have stepped off a Calvin Klein billboard, then there was no hope for him.

"Anyway, I want your ten pounds back, too." His hand ran down her side and to her hip. "We can put them right here where they belong," he finished, sliding a hand under her to cup her bottom. 

His eyes were so warm, his words so strangely possessive. She squirmed underneath him and forced a laugh. "God, no. Anywhere but there. Take it back."

"Sorry. No. That's where they go," he said, leaning down to brush her lips lightly. "For the record, I don't think my mother will hate you. Once she knows about us..."

She stiffened just a little under him. "Why should she know?" She really thought they'd cleared this up at the cabin. Nobody.... nobody at all would know.

"Well, we're not going to tell them everything. But they'll know at some point. I'm eighteen now. It's not like I'm going to rub it in their faces, but I don't think they'd ever hate you. I bet they aren't even afraid of you anymore."

That stopped her mild panicking and sent it in a whole new direction. "Your parents are afraid of me?"

"Well... a little. I mean, their alien son spends most of his time with a nosy reporter. But they still liked you. Now... they'll just like you more. I mean, you knew, Chloe. You knew for so long and you protected me. Even now that there's nothing to protect, they'll see in you what I do." His eyes met hers, still so warm and she just couldn't do it. She just couldn't argue about what they were and wipe that warmth away. This was how he felt. Right now, in this moment, he probably saw in her everything she always wanted him to. Would it change? Yes. But she just couldn't bring herself to remind him of that again just now. 

She turned her head slightly and glanced at the alarm clock. "Is that really the time? Three am? Wow. We should get back to sleep."

"We slept since four," he said, looking slightly put out.

"But after how many days of walking and cold and... I'm still so tired." She started to fake a yawn that quickly became real.

He rolled away. "You're probably right. Besides, the more we sleep, the less we notice how hungry we are."

Her eyes popped open. Why did he have to bring that up? Just the word brought this cavernous feeling to her stomach. Now she had two things to worry her. The hunger, she could put up with easier. She'd gotten used to it. And, really, that would be over soon enough. She might never take a hot meal for granted ever again.

But Clark... Maybe this really could work. Maybe what he was feeling now might be for more than just now.

"Clark?" She turned to him, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was open and emitting soft snores. But that was a good thing. She shouldn't just jump into this, agree with this mania of his that seemed to think this week meant more than it did.

I don't know what's going to happen. And neither do you. So stop acting like you do. But I know what happened last night. And you're the one brushing it off like it meant nothing. Not me.

He'd said that. And she was fairly sure that, right now, that was how he saw it. So what if she took him at his word? Declared him hers? Clark was a good guy, a nice guy. He'd stick with her, that much she knew. Even when they got home, even if he saw Lana again and all the things he always felt for her came rushing back, he'd stick with Chloe because, over and over this week, he'd said he would. Even if he didn't want to, he would.

And how the hell would she live with that?

She had to think on this.

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

"We shouldn't be thinking about this too hard now," Clark said, leaning back against the headboard.

"Why not?" Chloe said around a mouthful of hamburger. "We can't show up in town and say we were summering in Fort Lauderdale."

"Yeah, but my parents have probably been thinking about this, too. And Lex has probably already talked to them."

She chewed with a thoughtful look, very slowly, before she swallowed. "Your dad did say Lex had been... doing something. He didn't say what."

"So they might have already told him something," he said, his mind already drifting from Lex to her half-burger. "Why are you eating so slow?"

"I want to savor it," she said, breathing in deep. "I've been dreaming about this."

So had he. Which was why he downed his within seconds having it in his hands like any normal person. He'd been licking his fingers by the time they'd walked back to their slightly messy room. Chloe insisted on putting the "do not disturb" sign on the doorknob, not wanting their double occupancy known. He thought that was silly. It wasn't like the cleaning lady was going to tattle to the desk clerk. Also, they'd have fresh towells and bedding. But she still felt guilty about getting the room so cheap. So they'd made the bed and cleaned themselves as best they could when they woke. They'd considered washing their clothes in the motel's small laundromat, but that would be at least three dollars less they'd have to eat with and they had little enough.

"Now I have to watch you eat..."

"Clark," she groaned, "if you're still hungry, go back and get another burger."

"But it won't be free."

"So? We have almost nine dollars."

"But we need to eat tomorrow."

"And six dollars will be enough to do that... I think."

"I can wait," he sighed. "We should have stayed in the restaurant like I said." He picked up the empty cup between them and shook it, wondering if the ice had melted them some more watered down root beer. "They had free refills there."

"We looked like two homeless drug addicts cashing in on free burger day. The cashier looked like she couldn't get us out of there quick enough."

"So? Not like we'll be in Whitehorse again." He slurped up a few drops of watery soda and gestured to her with the empty cup. "You care too much what people think."

"You're the one who ordered the root beer so we didn't look like freeloaders. I thought we should have taken the burgers and ran."

"Well, you have coffee to drink here. Of course you don't need root beer."

"No one needs root beer. It's gross."

Clark gave up arguing taste with her. You couldn't reason with someone who didn't like beef jerky even a little bit. "This isn't just about Harvey's. I mean, when we get back to Smallville..."

"I saw a sign at Tim Horton's that looked like a pretty good breakfast deal. We should..."

Clark threw up his hands. "You just did it again," 

She widened her eyes, like she was so surprised at his outburst. It was a trick he was learning she had. "Did what?"

"Every time I want to talk about what happens when we get back to Smallville, you change the subject."

She lifted her chin. Another little trick. Like she was so above arguing when it was pretty much all she did. "I have no problem talking about what happens when we get back. I obviously have to prep for college and your house is in shambles, so that's probably going to be a big..."

"I'm talking about us and you know it." He was done letting her get around him. Not with food or with sleep or even with sex. "We're talking about us. Right now."

She glanced down. "So I'm not allowed to finish eating?"

"Not when you take two hours."

"I need a month."

He drew back slightly. "Wha..."

"Not to eat," she said, her eyes lifting to his. "I just... I think we should take at least one good month before we decide anything about... about anything."

"You mean our relationship."

"I mean about our... unique situation," she finished levelly.

He groaned. "You can't just call it a relationship? You know, a friendship is a relationship."

"Fine, then. Our friendship," she said, still so calm. 

"But we aren't just friends," he said, wishing she'd drop this strangely serene act.

"That would be something that's better off decided in a month."

"If this is about Lana, I told you exactly..."

"This isn't about Lana," she snapped... finally showing some kind of emotion.

"Except for how it is," he grumbled with some satisfaction, but not much. He thought he'd been clear. He sure felt clear. A week away from Lana was like... detox. Just being away, just seeing how it could be with Chloe, he felt clearer. Chloe was clear to him. Chloe was stubborn and brave and reckless and loyal and hard and soft and... just a million things. Whenever he thought about Lana, she was just... Lana. Whenever he tried to think of words to describe her, they just weren't there. He just couldn't pin one on her because she was always changing. Chloe was steady. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that, She'd probably take it to mean she was predictable. But that wasn't it at all. It's just that he knew her. It was something that came with her being by his side through so much. She wasn't someone to chase. She was someone to run by his side. And how could he say that clearly without her arguing him down? And she would. He knew her too well, after all. "Okay. With Lana, there was always..."

"Clark, this isn't just about Lana," she cut in, probably already armed with some killer argument.Damn her. "There are a million more things than Lana that we have to consider."

"There is nothing to consider except for whether you want to be with me," he said firmly. "I know I want to be with you and that's all I need to know." Try to argue that.

"You want to be with me now. When there's no one else. When we've survived the frozen apocalypse together."

That one again? "You're going with that?" he burst. "You still think the only reason I want you is because there's nobody else around?"

"I'm not saying you don't want me. I'm saying that I need a month and so do you." She took a deep breath. "Clark, the both of us have just been through something traumatic. Maybe we got through, but that's no time to start something like this."

"I thought we already started," he muttered, "but what do I know?"

"Besides that," she went on, pointedly ignoring him as she picked at the burger she just refused to finish. "We're both looking at total upheaval. High school's over, the town's in shambles. I'm going to Met U, you're going to A & M. I just think we need to... stop and take a breath and focus on... on getting our lives in order."

"And what? Just never see each other?" 

"Of course we'll see each other. We'll have a whole summer of seeing each other and... all our friends."

She was talking about Lana again. He was sure of that. But maybe she had a point. Maybe he needed to talk this out with Lana, make sure she'd be okay with him and Chloe. Maybe she still had feelings for him. Maybe it would hurt her to see him home and safe and in a whole other relationship when she had every reason to think, when he left, that they were going to try again... and again and again and again. 


The more he looked at his past with Lana, the more it seemed a never-ending cycle. Because he couldn't reverse time and stop the meteor shower that gave him his parents while it took hers. Underneath it all, that was all Lana was. Something broken he'd never fix. He wasn't going to try again. He felt pretty clear on that. But the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. As much as he might have teased Chloe about kissing her in the middle of the Talon, that wouldn't happen... at least not any time soon.

He was ready to give her her precious month when she went on. "And you have complete life upheaval. You're going from super to human and you've hardly had time to adjust outside survival mode. Also, your house was decimated and..."

"Fine. A month."

Her eyes narrowed. He knew she was trying to puzzle out why he'd agreed.

"There's a lot to do," he said, nodding to her. "You're right. There's a town to repair and a future to plan." And, in a month, I'll plan it with you. He was sure about that much. But he might need time to figure out what his life would be now and whether she'd really want to be a part of it. Really, his life was pretty much save people/hide secret up till now. He supposed he had no secrets to hide now, but... he was damned sure he couldn't see someone in danger and not do something. That was another thing he could be sure of. "After my house is rebuilt, I want to help around town," he said firmly. He'd seen the hole in city hall. It shouldn't be there. "I'll have to ask Dad to teach me how to use power tools." He brightened a little at the idea. "He did try, But I never needed them. Plus, I usually broke them when I tried them out. They were just so... slow. But I like the sound of them."

She grinned at that. "You're such a guy. I just want to see my laptop again... if it isn't smashed to bits."

"I want my mom to make spaghetti and meatballs as soon as we have a kitchen again."

"You think there's internet service again? Maybe not now, but by the time we get back..."

"I wonder if the crock pot's okay. Because I love when she makes pot roast. You can smell it all day."

"I hate the smell of this stupid motel soap," Chloe groaned. "I'd just bought this set of cucumber melon soaps and lotions and I never even got to try them."

"I might try cooking," he said. "I feel like my mom doesn't make enough foods with cheese in them."

"Please stop talking about food," she snapped. "You'll make me hungry again and I'm trying to tell myself I'm full."

She'd finished her burger by now and he wondered if it would make him look pathetic if he licked the grease and congealed cheese off her wrapper. "We'll be eating all we want," he said, consoling himself. "In a few days, we'll be home."

She smiled. "Hommmme," She sort of hummed the word, falling back on the bed. "My own bed, my own blankets, more outfits than this." She sat up suddenly. "I'm sorry. I mean, with your house being..."

"Hey, my parents answered the phone. That must mean some of it's okay. Besides, they're coming. They're taking us home."

She leaned toward him. "Do you think China Gardens is okay? I didn't even get a look at Main Street when all the..."

"I saw it on my way to the hospital. It's there."

"Then the first thing I'm getting is a double order of shrimp fried rice and a quart of egg-drop soup and..."

He put his fingers over her mouth. "We agreed not to talk about food."

She smiled against his fingers and he pulled them away quickly. "Hard not to do," she said, looking down at the bedspread. 

He looked down as well, wondering what he'd been thinking, giving her this month she wanted. They'd be trapped here another night and... Now he wasn't supposed to touch her? Maybe that was for the best. He'd have to get used to not touching her. Maybe being trapped in a room with her would be good practice. Of course, he didn't have to be trapped. 

He shot to his feet. "I need to..." He could go for a walk. But, after walking for days and days, that was one of the last things he wanted to do. He knew what the first thing was. "I should... brush my teeth," he finished lamely. That wasn't the first thing, obviously. But it gave him some space as he shut himself into the bathroom.

He took a deep breath and stared in the mirror, nearly getting himself together until he saw what was hanging on the towel rack behind him. He clenched his fists and told himself that was fine. Of course Chloe would want to wash what she could. He should wash his own panties and bra... or his underwear. It was totally practical and not some ploy to torture him... unless maybe she washed them out because that was what she was planning on wearing to bed. They hadn't worried about bed clothes last night because... well...

He heard voices and jumped for a moment until he heard canned laughter behind them. TV. She was watching TV. Why didn't he think of that? Hell, he missed TV as much as food, at least. He quickly brushed his teeth and came out. "Anything good?"

"Not so far," she said, flipping as she laid on her stomach. She'd taken off her shoes and jacket and her bare feet resting near the pillows. "Some of it's in French, but without subtitles. A lot of it's cooking shows, which is a big no-no. It's daytime, though. Daytime TV's always pretty boring unless you really, really want to hear Shania Twain talk about her new perfume," she said, stopping on a blond woman with glasses and Shania Twain talking about citrusy notes.

"Well, we know her," he said, walking past her and sitting awkwardly on the corner of the other end of the bed, trying not to think about how Chloe wasn't wearing any underwear right now. He didn't notice when there was food. Hell, he probably wouldn't notice now, with the way her clothes hung off her much as his did. But then he knew she wasn't.

Chloe sat up quickly and he forced his eyes to Shania, who was talking about the shape of the bottle for her perfume by now. "You know, I should... brush my teeth, too. Burger had onions, so..." She shut herself in and he let out a breath. 

More space. Space was good. Maybe they could spend the rest of this time taking turns in the bathroom. That would certainly make things easier. Of course, there weren't that many things to do in the bathroom, unless... Well, he'd been doing that for years. He could get used to it again. He wondered if it would be a lot harder without powers. It probably would. Everything else would be.

He looked at the door, then the TV. She certainly was taking her time. Shania wasn't talking about perfume anymore, at least. Not that he paid attention, but it seemed like hours, as any long talk about perfume should. 


He wondered if she would change into just the panties and bra and just that for bed. But she wouldn't do that. She had to know that would be cruel. He glanced at the sheets. They were bigger than the ones in the cabin and less threadbare. They'd make a good enough toga. Not nearly as see-through. He stiffened when he heard the faucet shut off, almost fearing she'd come out in her underwear when he remembered the sun was still out and it was far from bed time.

He cleared his throat and leaned forward, pretending to be very, very interested in Shania's thoughts on being on The Apprentice. 

"Perfume done?" She perched on the far side of the bed. 

"Yeah. Finally." He turned to her. "Why isn't SCTV on? I mean, that's Canadian."

"Or Kids in the Hall. Degrassi," she droned, staring at the TV. "Huh. I don't know any others."

"We don't get a lot of Canadian stuff, I guess."

"Yeah," she said, nodding.

"Yeah." He turned back to the TV. He wasn't going to say it. He didn't want to spend the next 24 hours arguing. He just didn't have the energy for it with so little food. But just to ask a question... that might not be so bad. "So... does this month start now or..."

He suddenly found himself flat on the bed with an armful of her and her lips on his. 

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

She was relieved he said it. She didn't want to be the one to say it. And the month shouldn't have started then. She wouldn't have brought it up except it was her only defense. Time. She just needed time to know. But really, she should have waited till they were home because there was no way she could spend another day confined with him and not just... grab him. So she did. As soon as he gave her an opening.

Granted, so does this month start now wasn't exactly saying "jump me." But it was close enough. And he didn't seem to mind from the way he was tearing at her top.

"Didn't put em back on," he breathed as he tossed it behind him. "You're the best."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Never mind." He leaned down to kiss her, licking lightly past her lips before delving in. He tasted like toothpaste... or was that her? Halfway through brushing her teeth, she'd started to wonder how many times she could reasonably do it just to get some space from his and his damned arms. She's tried to watch the talkshow, but there he was, just three feet away and nothing but muscle and skin in a ripped, ruined T-shirt. She'd been ready to tell him to put that horrible red jacket back on until she decided to do something, anything, but stare at him.

She stared at him now, though. She'd allow herself to. And he stared back, eyes so warm again before he dipped his head to her neck, then her collarbone, then her breast.

She jolted as he bit lightly, then moaned as his tongue teased at her nipple. It felt so...

From this moment... as long as I live... I will love yoooouuuuu....

"Oh, God, stop it!"

Clark lifted his head. "I'm sorry. Was I being too..."

"No, the... damn TV," she grunted, grabbing around the blankets for the remote. The drone of commercials had been like white noise to her, but she wasn't about to listen to Shania twain crooning romantic country ballads while Clark was all over her. It might give her ideas. Luckily, it was just a little buffer after the commercials and was over quick, but she grabbed the remote anyway, fumbling to turn it off. She didn't want anything to take away from her last... or one of her last times with Clark.

There had to be an end to this. Once they left, she had to stick to that month. It was the only thing she could think of. Make it about their lives, or the mess they'd be. She'd decided that night. Don't tell him you don't trust him. Don't tell him this won't last or he'll dig his heels in and make it last, even if he didn't want it to. A month was good. A month was enough time for him to get her out of his system. As for her getting him out... She wasn't stupid enough to hope it would take less than years. But it could happen. With enough work to fill her days. Once Clark inevitably ended up trying again with Lana, she'd have school to prepare for. She was going to Metropolis where she'd always belonged. She was going to be someone.

You are destined to be a big shot reporter at the Daily Planet. Do you really picture Clark Kent being able to keep up with you?

Yes, she could. But Lois didn't know him like she did. Still, it wasn't to be. He'd go to Kansas A & M and she'd go to Met U. But the rest of her cousin's words, she hung on to them. Surely, someone who was going to be a big shot reporter would get over this. She might forget his smile and that slightly crooked tooth that made it all the more endearing. She might forget the way his eyes seemed to be blue or green depending on what he wore. She might forget the way he touched her, just a little hesitant until she shook beneath him... as she did now. His fingers sped up, then, moving in slick circles against her as she met his eyes. They were just dark now, nearly eclipsed as he worked at her. He was getting better with every time, every touch, and she nearly hated that all this was, in the end, not to be hers.

She grasped his arm and pulled, wanting him over her, inside her. Just for now. Just while she could.

Her breath hitched as he buried himself in her and she gripped his arms, planted on either side of her, and moved against him. He felt so right that she could nearly convince herself that it would never end. That the inevitable wouldn't happen. 

I don't know what's going to happen. And neither do you. So stop acting like you do.

His words came back to her again and she tried to let those go. Because she did know. She'd lived it before. And she could take it. She knew what she was in for, but she chose this. She chose to have what she could of him now. And it might hurt later. But she wouldn't blame him because she chose it, eyes open now.

She kept her eyes open as he moved, his own eyes squeezed shut. "Let go, Clark."

"No," he growled, still pumping inside her, his whoel body shaking over hers. "Want this to last."

She knew the feeling. But she also knew why. He was waiting for her. He didn't have to wait. All she had to do was take one deep breath and she'd fall apart. So she took it. She chose it. She breathed in his scent and hers and theirs and let it all go, let one part of her squeeze him as if he could never leave while the rest of him let go of him and of her and of everything they could be.

"Goodbye," she said in a choked whisper as his arms shook and he fell to her, giving two weak thrusts before she felt him release inside her.

He lifted his head a moment later. "Goodbye?"

She forced a smile. "Well, it's over, isn't it?"

"Just for now," he said, grinning as he met her lips. "Just give a minute."

She'd give him more than that. She might give him the rest of her life is he asked it. But he wouldn't. And she wouldn't blame him. This time, there would be no recriminations, no yelling or hurt feelings. This time, she knew what she was in for. She'd let this happen. Hell, looking back, she'd instigated all of it. So she had no right to blame him when this ended.

She wouldn't, that much she knew about what was going to happen. She could control that much.

PREVIOUS PART
PART TWENTY-EIGHT

I did do my homework for this one, with driving distance and where Jonathon and Martha would reasonably be on what time and what you might see on a Canadian talk show in 2005. But I messed up one thing. Apparently, Harvey's free burger Sunday thing didn't start till 2007 and was only the last Sunday in May. I'd already posted there were free burgers to come for our poor abused duo in a previous chapter and I didn't want to just snatch it away as they've been woefully underfed. So I'll just pretend Harvey's started that deal in 2005 and it was the last Sunday in June. There.