Almost Lovers (Chapter Twenty-Nine)

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dear Clark,

I don’t want you to read this and go into some kind of panic. I don’t want you to alert everybody. I don’t want everyone gathering and holding some tense meeting about what I’ve gone and done now. I’m fine. Or I’m mostly fine. I will be fine. I just need some time.

Perry gave me until Monday and I’m going to take it. This is something I need to do and I need to do it alone. This is not me running away. This is me taking a breath, slowing down. Things have been moving too fast and I need to stop and think about where they’re going. A handful of dates and we’re disclosing a relationship, rumored to be engaged. And I’m not even saying that’s your fault. Things happened around us and between us and I was right there with you, superspeeding along.

I remember you once telling me that you just wanted to rush ahead to the part where we could laugh at things and that’s you all over, trying to rush ahead to where everything’s fine and everyone’s happy. It’s not me. It may be who I’ve been lately, but I don’t think it’s who I am. I’m not even sure it’s who I want to be.

I need to think. I need time and distance and I want you to give it to me this time.

I’ll see you Monday.

Lois

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

Dear Clark…

He drew his fist back and let it fly forward, small rocks scattering around him.

“Dude! I said to toss them out, not pulverize them,” Bart groaned and sped over to where a broom was laying against the wall. “You’re making more work for me, you know! Toss them!”

“Yeah. Fine,” Clark grunted, picking up another boulder and aiming it at the gathering dark at the mouth of the cave. It made a splash in the ocean beyond, but it barely made a dent in the piles of giant rocks everywhere. 

Everyone was supposed to take on crew duties until the cave was more habitable. Victor was in the upper levels now. Clark hadn’t faced him yet. He’d just got right to work, even though he hadn’t planned to.

He’d planned to come tomorrow before work as he didn’t think he could get much done with what scant daylight was left. But Bart had work lights all around. Hell, he had no real trouble seeing in the dark. Maybe he’d just stay here all night. He needed to blow off some steam at the moment.

Dear Clark,

I don’t want you to read this and go into some kind of panic… 

“Gotta do everything around here,” Bart was grumbling as he swept. “You know, everyone talks about Victor plugging in a few wires and Oliver putting out the dough and AC digging out the tunnels, but who is it doing all the grunt work? Me. Maybe you a little, but that’s just today. I mean, finally!” 

“I’m sorry.” Clark hefted another boulder. “I guess I’ve been too busy stopping alien invasions and relearning every damned one of my powers and rescuing…”

“Hey! Calm down. I’m just having a good whine. What’s with you?”

I don’t want you to read this and go into some kind of panic. I don’t want you to alert everybody…

“Nothing,” he finally said. He wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t want him to.

“Well, you’ve been in a sh*tty mood since you got here. Anyway, I’m just saying I’d like a little more credit. I’ve been on this longer than anyone, you know. Here I am, slaving away to make Team Awesome’s Lair live up to its name and everyone acts like ‘Oh, that Bart. All he does is eat and annoy everybody’…”

…I don’t want you to alert everybody. I don’t want everyone gathering and holding some tense meeting about what I’ve gone and done now…

“I mean, I am like the foundation of this team. Without me? Pfffft!”

“Yes. You’re very valuable,” Clark grunted, hefting a particularly large rock. “That enough for you?”

Bart dropped his broom. “Okay, seriously. I mean, I know sh*t’s gone down, but lighten up! Oh! Speaking of that. Shine that light this way.” Bart shuddered. “It’s getting dark and creepy in here. Can’t wait till we get this all cleaned out. If I see another bat I’m gonna…”

“Scream like a toddler and run around in circles again?”

Bart crossed his arms. “Is Lois giving you the cold shoulder or something? I mean, don’t take it out…”

“Lois is fine,” he said quickly.

…I don’t want everyone gathering and holding some tense meeting about what I’ve gone and done now. I’m fine. Or I’m mostly fine. I will be fine…

“Everything’s fine,” he went on. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m having trouble focusing.” 

Bart snorted. “I guess you are. You already demolished two work lights. I mean, I know it’s weird for me to say, but slow it down. We have time.”

… I just need some time. Perry gave me until Monday and I’m going to take it. This is something I need to do and I need to do it alone. This is not me running away…

He felt like he had too much time right now. That was the problem. There was no crisis, no danger, nothing to stop that letter from repeating on a loop every time he stopped to take a breath.

…This is me taking a breath, slowing down. Things have been moving too fast and I need to stop and think about where they’re going…

He couldn’t seem to get it off repeat, couldn’t seem to…

… to stop and think about where they’re going. A handful of dates and we’re disclosing a relationship, rumored to be engaged. And I’m not even saying that’s your fault. Things happened around us and between us and I was right there with you, superspeeding along...

Maybe he deserved it. He glanced at Bart, zooming around, taking the smaller boulders and tossing them willy-nilly off the cliff. It was good thing it was winter in Rhode Island or the beach below would be full of panicked people fleeing…

…I was right there with you, superspeeding along. I remember you once telling me that you just wanted to rush ahead to the part where we could laugh at things …

He remembered that moment, sitting on a bus bench, trying to get his bearings while she went through what seemed like a checklist of everything he didn’t want to hear. He certainly deserved it then…

"Do you think you can wipe everything away by acting like this?” she’d demanded. “Like everything's fine and nothing happened? Like none of it, all these years of us, never happened?"

But that was then! That wasn’t who he was now! He’d spent all this time working to make it up to her and it still wasn’t enough. Maybe it never would be.

…the part where we could laugh at things and that’s you all over, trying to rush ahead to where everything’s fine and everyone’s happy. It’s not me. It may be who I’ve been lately, but I don’t think it’s who I am…

On one level, he should be thrilled she was taking the time off, that she was even admitting she needed time, needed anything…

…who I’ve been lately, but I don’t think it’s who I am. I’m not even sure it’s who I want to be. I need to think...

Of course, that was the crux of it. The thought that these last months with him, who she’d been to him, was not who she wanted to be. And what the hell did that mean? That she didn’t want to be with him? That she didn’t even like who she was with him? 

…who I want to be. I need to think. I need time and distance and I want you to give it to me this time.

This time? He’d give her anything. She knew -- just had to know that by now. And it wasn’t enough. 

“Stop,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

He had to stop this. It accomplished nothing, analyzing every word, irked and haunted by everything it could mean…

“With all I felt for you, I thought it had to mean something.”

Now even f*cking Lana’s voice was echoing in his head, crying and pleading…

“And it hurt, Clark. It hurt so much, realizing everything you told yourself wasn't true. Everything you planned…”

He hadn’t had any sympathy at the moment, but he could feel for her now, just a little. Maybe he was in the same boat, kidding himself about some girl who would never be his, after everything, maybe she’d never be at the end of that path. And what did that…

“Stop it,” he hissed under his breath. 

I’ll see you Monday. 

Monday. That was the day to think about this, talk about this, figure out what it meant, what she wanted. Not today, not in a darkening cave. He had to stop thinking about it. He’d drive himself crazy if he kept this up. He’d…

…remember you once telling me that you just wanted to rush ahead to the part where we could laugh at things and that’s you all over, trying to…

“Just stop!” he growled. 

“I agree,” a voice laughed from behind him.

He turned, surprised to find Oliver standing in the crude sort of hallway they’d been trying to clean out. Oliver shook his head. “Bart, slow it. I’m getting dizzy just looking at you,” he groaned, a hand on his stomach.

Bart shrugged, stilling. “Stop being intimidated by my speed.”

“More like sickened.” 

“With jealousy.” Bart laughed. “Considering all I’m doing for Team Awesome HQ…”

“For the last time, we are not Team Awesome,” Oliver sighed. 

“Well, some of us certainly aren’t. I’m starting to think…” Bart gasped as the work lights flickered. “Hey! Vic’s hogging the power again! Oliver, tell him…”

“Don’t blame him. It’s probably the microwave,” Oliver grunted, pulling a tin of mints from his pocket. “Damned things always drain all the power.”

“Why is he using the microwave? He doesn’t eat people food.”

“Well, the rest of us do, so I asked him to heat up the food I just…”

And Bart was gone.

“Knew that would get him.” Oliver moved into the large chamber, looking at the rough walls. “Still, things are looking good so far.”

Clark gave his last boulder a kick. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here, really. Was looking over the upstairs area with Vic. We’re on a generator to start, but I’ll have to get those solar panels installed if we want to sustain…” He trailed off, tossing at least four mints into his mouth. “Sorry. Had a rough flight,” he mumbled, crunching on them.

Clark shook his head. “I forgot. I was supposed to take you here yester..."

"Yeah, I don’t think anyone expected you to after what happened. Anyway, don't worry about it. I had Jones give me a lift."

"How was that?"

"Horrible. I’ve never been a nervous flyer,” Oliver said, looking around, “but then again, I never experienced it with my feet hanging over the great American quilt-lands, zipping under me at breakneck speed. Lost my lunch over Connecticut. Poor people.” He shook his head.

Clark let out a surprised laugh.

Oliver laughed, too. "I'm not even kidding." He sobered and moved to Clark. “Anyway, I’m glad he left us. I feel like you and me need to have little talk. After the way you took over on Operation Lois…”

“I know. And I’m sorry,” Clark cut in. “But you have to understand why I got so…”

“No, I’m not complaining,” Oliver cut in. “You took charge. You utilized every team member’s strengths along the way and you even got the authorities singing your praises. I’ve never agreed with that, playing diplomat with the police, but…”

“Oliver, you’re a mayor. You of all people…”

“That’s Oliver Queen. Green Arrow is a different story and always has been. Oliver Queen is, underneath everything, a means to an end. I don’t like playing nice with the rich fatcats and corrupt politicians, but it’s what I have to do.” He shrugged. “I’m not a boy scout and never will be.” He gestured to Clark. “But you are. And I’m not even saying that’s a bad thing. You seem to work it out. That was a clean rescue you ran. I wish every mission could go so smoothly. Maybe they will with you in charge.”

Clark just stared at him. 

“Get that gobsmacked look off your face. You had to know this was coming.”

“Me? In ch…”

“Yes. I want you to take over leadership.”

“But you started this group. You funded every…”

“And I will continue to. Hell, think of me as The Justice League’s founding member, treasurer and personal banker. But that’s gotta be it.” He sighed. “That’s enough. I’ve got a business to run, a whole city even, besides what we do and… Well, now I’m about to be a father. I can’t be flying back and forth all the time. We can conduct meetings remotely and I can always be flown in if there’s an emergency and…”

“No. I understand that you have a lot to do. But Victor’s probably the better…”

“Victor can't be anywhere in under a minute. Honestly, neither can I. And before you try to foist this off on Bart, let me tell you about the time I sent him for grappling hooks and he came back with a puppy,” Oliver threw up his hands, “which my staff has been dog-sitting for a year ‘just till he gets a place.’ Clark, it’s you.” He shrugged. “You’re the one. You’re the face that doesn’t hide. You’re the… model citizen. I knew this was coming from the first night you went out in those stupid tights and talked about having faith in the system.” He nodded. “And maybe I think that’s naïve, but it’s not a bad quality. You’re the one who should be leading this. Not an old cynic like me.”

Clark shook his head. “I need to think…”

“Think about it if you need to, but this is what has to happen and you know it,” Oliver said firmly. “As for me, I need to get back to Star City tonight.” 

“Of course,” Clark said, still reeling. “I can…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He nodded to the cave ceiling. “Jones is still up there with Vic. Probably eating all the cookies. I’ll get a lift back to the city then take the Bell. It’ll be easier without Linda back-seat piloting the whole time.”

“Linda,” Clark said dully. Lois said not to tell anyone, but Linda should…

“She says she wants to hang around with your mother for the week, see if she can finagle her into a mayoral run. Linda's not happy with you, by the way."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Is she ever?"

"Lois texted her and said she was taking a long weekend away. Then turned her phone off, I guess. Linda hates when she…”

“She knows?” Clark glanced up, surprised. “Lois said not to tell everyone.”

“Well, she said not to worry. That she’d be back Monday. But Linda’s convinced you did something.”

Clark looked down. “Maybe I did. Or didn’t do something I should have or… I didn’t know what to make of her this morning. The way she was, the way we left things, was… strange.”

“How?”

Clark took a deep breath and met his eyes. This was another thing he didn’t want to share, but they should know. “She destroyed the recording,” he said dully. “There weren't copies. All the evidence against Lana is gone."

“Victor’s gonna be pissed. I only heard Linda’s version, which was rated R for language,” he said with a shrug. “Hell, I’m pissed.”

“You don’t sound pissed.”

Oliver shrugged again. “Maybe because I’m not surprised. I knew it would be useless to us.”

“But…”

“What were you gonna do, Clark? Discredit your own paper? Have Lois go back to the police and say she left a few things out? We couldn’t have used it anyway. Your entire life was splashed all over it.”

“You sound like Lois,” he muttered.

“Yeah? Is that a compliment or an insult right now?” Oliver stared at him. “I know you can’t be happy she destroyed it.”

“So Lana just gets everything she wants?”

"I'm not saying it's fair, but I also have to weigh how much I care. Lex is put away and Lana's got her name back and his company like she wanted. Does she deserve it? No. But neither did he and we still got through each day. What does it really have to do with us? We have bigger things to do.”

“But…”

Oliver put a hand up. “We know and that counts. And Victor… Eh, he’ll get over it. Maybe I’ll tell him he can interview everyone, get verbal confirmation of the recording from those who heard for the League database.”

“Database?” He’d heard Victor mention it before, but he’d had other things on his mind.

“He’s got this new pet project, making copies of all our records and mission reports. Wants to put in some kind of titanium safe here so it survives a nuclear holocaust along with the cockroaches and Lindsey Lohan for future generations.”

“But doesn’t that defeat the purpose of secret identities? If someone found it…”

“Well, if someone found us here we’d be screwed either way. Anyway, Victor likes to think that, in the future – the far-flung kind, mind you – people like us will be studying… Well, people like us. Like we’ll be some kind of inspiration to legions of heroes.” Oliver moved to the mouth of the cave and stared out at the blackened sea.

Clark joined him there. “I don’t know about that.” It seemed strange and scary to think of his life laid bare in some unknown future. “We don’t even know if our language would survive. What if everything got lost in translation?”

“Well, there might be a little whisper down the lane, but Vic does want it to be as accurate as possible for posterity.”

Clark turned to him with a smile. “Well, if he wants that, maybe he should get Lois to help out when… if she comes back,” Clark finished, dropping his smile.

Oliver’s eyes widened as he turned to Clark. “You think she won’t?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she said she would, but maybe she won’t want to be a part of things. She left me this cryptic note, going on about how she doesn’t know who she wants to be and how I want to rush to the end. And maybe I tended to do that before, but that was when I first came back from training. I didn’t know what I was doing. Sometimes I wish I never wrote that…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “No. That’s wrong. I never wrote that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The notebook. See, she kept complaining that it was all this self-flagellation and moping and no useful details and… maybe she was right. Because I never wrote that.”

He remembered that day, the day after he came back, the day she left him on the bus bench, so clearly. He also remembered what he wrote. He also remembered her damned letter. He remembered too much. That was the curse of being him.

But that wasn’t her curse. Her problem was all she didn’t remember. But she remembered that. “Don’t you see?” He took Oliver by the shoulders. “She shouldn’t remember that.”

“Okay, I’ve missed something,” Oliver said. “Could you put me down?”

“Oh… Sorry.” He didn’t even realize he was lifting him. He didn’t realize a lot of things. He dropped Oliver, pacing away. “I missed something, too. So many things. I mean, I saw them and I heard them and I just never put it together till… Tulips! The f*cking tulips! Bart! Where’s Bart?”

“He’s upstairs,” Oliver said warily, moving to the rough doorway. “You know I’ll just… BART!”

Bart appeared behind him, plate in hand. “What? I’m eating, for crying out…”

“I think Clark’s having a long overdue nervous breakdown,” Oliver hissed. 

“No, I’m not!”

“Okay, you’re not,” Oliver said brightly. “So why don’t we all just get some food and take deep breaths and…”

“Just tell me, Bart,” Clark began more calmly now, ignoring Oliver. “What is Chloe’s favorite flower?”

Bart seemed to search the ceiling. “Uh… Is it… red?”

“It’s tulips. Remember when we met? You asked her what her favorite flower was and she told you and… and you got her one to impress her.”

Bart shrugged. “Using the wayback machine, there, but yeah.”

“Did you tell her about that?”

“Dude, I only just remembered that.”

“But don’t you see? She talked about it!”

“About me?”

“No, tulips.” Clark paced away. “Lana sent them and she went on about how she liked them and why she liked them and… we never told her that. I mean, in the grand scheme of things favorite flower seemed a little…” He shook his head. “But see, she knew!”

Bart turned to Oliver. “I see what you mean.” Bart cleared his throat. “Clark, is there like a calming kind of kryptonite, like a xanax-y strain or…”

“She knows,” he said firmly, then took a deep breath. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Lois knows things that she wasn’t told. Things she would only know if… Maybe I am going crazy.”

“No, wait a minute.” Ollie stepped forward. “I mean, Lex did have that experiment going. Do you think it…”

“No. She said it was just a light show,” Clark growled. “More than that, she was… the same after that. I mean, she was the same as before. Too light. Then she had that episode and after she was so angry and erratic and demanding to know everything about Grady and… Grady,” he finished on a breath.

“Wait a sec,” Bart gasped. “Do you think Grady did something to her? I mean, before he died?”

“No,” Clark breathed. “He died. That’s what he did.”

“What time?” she’d demanded. Now he knew why. Now he knew why her mood swung so violently this morning. How was someone supposed to react with every stolen memory returned so suddenly?

“Clark?”

He turned to Oliver, trying to decide how to feel himself.

“You think Grady’s death undid his work?”

He moved to the mouth of the cave. “There’s only one way to find out,” he said before taking off.

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

“There’s only fifteen minutes left,” the woman warned.

“That’s fine. I don’t need much time,” Lois said, signing her name. “I’m just surprised he’s allowed visitors at all.”

“Well, between us, how could I not? It’s you,” the woman said, digging for a pass in her drawer. “I mean, I read The Planet. I read your stuff before this, but now to know what you did, what you went through…” She clasped a hand to her breast. “Is this some kind of confront-the-criminal thing? Like therapy?” She patted her hair. “Am I gonna be in the paper?”

“This is off the record,” Lois said, forcing a smile as she took the pass.

“Well, I think you and your fiancée are very brave, helping poor Lorn… Oh, I mean Lana. I worked with her briefly, you know. On this floor. During the subterfuge,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “She told me she’d had a bad marriage, but I never dreamed it was anything like this.”

“Well… yeah. Is it this door?” Lois asked, having nothing else to say, clipping the pass to her jacket. 

“Uh, yeah. Room B. He’s been restrained for your protection.”

“Thanks for that.” She forced another smile as she pushed the door open. She knew this woman wasn’t to blame, but she could only hear so much about “Lana Luthor, Freedom Fighter.” It was bad enough she wasn’t charged, but to be lauded this way was a bit much to take in, along with every other damned thing crowding her mind. And that wasn’t even mentioning her apparent “fiancée.”

She wasn’t thinking about that right now. She had things to do. This was only the second of them. It wasn’t actually the most important. That was this afternoon. She’d spent it in Smallville… inconspicuously, of course. She’d seen the town this last year, but she hadn’t seen it the right way. She’d only investigated it, disturbed and confused. She needed to see what had been her home again now, knowing what she knew, like a grown woman taking one last look at her childhood home, even knowing that it was home no longer. But it was nice to have a reunion tour, have a coffee at The Talon, buy flowers at Conrad’s, and then…

She took those flowers to Gabriel Sullivan’s grave so she could close her eyes and see his… his eyes, those eyes she struggled to remember. She could see them then. They were cornflower blue, the pure, light kind that you only saw in a red-headed Irishman. Then there was Moira Sullivan, her eyes a more violet-blue in a pale face that had seen too much pain and not nearly enough happiness. She could see her so clearly then and it was a beautiful pain. 

Then there was Lucy. The marker might say Chloe Sullivan, but she knew who was there. Lucy Lane with her sandy hair and that shared familial trait of being horribly nosy, always trying to follow behind the big girls, begging to be let in… and look what happened. She wasn’t sure she’d ever processed it fully.

She wanted Linda so bad right then, but she couldn’t face her. Not yet. She only texted her, crying through every press of a button, saying not to worry, she’d be back Monday. 

And she would. She just had to get her head straight first. Then she could figure out how to go on…

And that was why she was here. This wasn’t some emotional confrontation. The harsh pat-down she received only confirmed that. This was all too practical. Because if Grady’s death had opened up her mind, then what had it done to the others? And, more importantly, what had it done to Lex?

“Good evening, Miss…” Lex trailed off and smiled as she sat down across from him. It wasn’t at all reassuring. “So what should I call you?”

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

“You know, you could have just called,” Jimmy said absently, gathering take-out containers and a few empty beer bottles. 

Clark absently counted them. Just two. Good. “Well, I just thought you might want some company.”

“I’m not sick.” He dumped his pile in the trash can in his kitchenette. “I’m good. They even got my blood work back. Nothing wrong here.”

He’d have been relieved, except for how he now knew what happened to Jimmy… and Lois. It might have been easier if it was simply physical. “I know,” Clark said gently. “It’s just… you seemed so different today.”

“From what?”

Clark shrugged. “Just… not your usual happy self.”

Jimmy gave a bitter laugh. “Am I supposed to be some certain way all the time? Maybe I’m having a bad day.” Jimmy moved to the fridge.

“Well, if you are, I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

Jimmy took out a beer and stared at it. “I barely even like this beer. I just felt it was better.”

“Than what?”

Jimmy shrugged and twisted off the cap. “I don’t know. I can’t… Did you ever wonder what reality even is? Did you ever wake up one day and think… ‘this is so messed up.’ But, see, you’re not even sure why, because everything was fine. So why isn’t it now?” He blinked at Clark. “I mean, you were fine with it, weren’t you?”

Clark just stared back. “Fine with what?”

“With… with…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “With the secret. Her secret. Her name. You knew. I mean, I knew, but then I didn’t and… And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Clark didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure what to say. It was a confirmation of what he suspected, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it, either.

“I keep going back and forth. Because what I know, I… I mean, I knew it, but then I didn’t and like… it’s like… I can’t figure out how to make it make sense. What it was and what it is and…”

“Jimmy,” he cut in, conflicted. Because he could tell Jimmy to forget it, but that’s what got him here. “Are you talking about someone we both know?” he asked, trying to sound as natural as possible.

Jimmy covered his mouth. “Did you forget, too?”

“No! I mean…” He took a deep breath, wondering how to put this. “If you’re talking about someone we both know very well and… care about… I mean, you do care about her, right?”

“Of course I do,” Jimmy hissed. “I mean, we used to… Well, that was before you… I mean, it’s complicated and…” He stiffened. “Of course I care about her.”

“Then we don’t talk about it,” Clark said evenly, “because there was a reason it happened.”

“Yes,” Jimmy said dully. “She told me that and I… I didn’t know what to do with that. Then I went on a photo shoot and… See, that explained everything”

“What?”

“I mean, he basically kidnapped me and he said it was about this Grady from the photos. But Cat’s story… it never really set in why he…” Jimmy suddenly sucked in a breath. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. You know, I’ve had at least two and a half beers, so I’m just… You know, he’d never kidnap anyone. I just went on a little flight with him because… Well…”

“Yeah, I hate flying, too,” Clark said absently, trying not to look at Jimmy. “Is there anything on?” He moved to Jimmy’s couch. He knew what Jimmy was talking about… or trying desperately not to talk about – that night Superman took him and Dan Taggart to Star Labs for what turned out to be nothing.

He sat down, briefly wondering if it would help Jimmy more if he came in as Superman, tell him about Kevin Grady and his crimes and leave. It would be quicker. But would it actually help Jimmy process this? “So Grady. Isn’t that the guy Lois said Lex was holding prisoner?” He picked up the remote.

Jimmy moved to the couch as well. “Maybe he should have been from what I’ve heard.” Jimmy frowned into his beer. “Clark, something weird happened with me. I mean… It’s hard to explain. I don’t even know where to start.”

Clark turned to him. “Well, start at the beginning.” He nodded at the beer. “You got another one?”

Jimmy nodded and moved back to the kitchenette. 

Clark stared back at the TV, thinking that this wasn’t a job for Superman. This was a job for Clark Kent. Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen knew Chloe Sullivan, knew Lois Lane. Clark Kent was the person he could reconcile all this with. Besides, somewhere in all this, Jimmy Olsen had become a good friend. It was about time he paid that back.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Sorry to cut it here. I meant to shove more into this chapter, but then saw the word count was over 5K already. So my 30 chaps and an epilogue will likely be a weensy bit more. Darn. I do like nice, round numbers. 

What can I say? It's taking more words than I thought, but I definitely would rather have too many words than any loose ends.

Also, I made a Chlark vid. It's here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWYGHeIVa4Q