Restless Nights (Chapter 15)

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Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

Chapter Fifteen

Clark was fidgeting, of course. “Chloe, this doesn’t sit right with me.”

She glanced at the plastic divider, then turned to him in the back of the cab. “Then maybe you should sit this one out.”

His brows drew together. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just…”

“I’m serious. If I’m an expectant mother exploring my pregnancy options, then… I don’t know. I might look more sympathetic, all lost and alone, get more answers.”

He scoffed. “Like what? Do you think you’ll get the vapors and they’ll fan you with their confidential files?”

“I’m just saying that, if we hit the place together, they might think we’re a couple.” Dinah, apparently, was under that misconception. “They’ll probably wonder why we’re giving the baby up with us being so young and healthy.”

“Maybe you’re too focused on your career,” Clark said, shrugging.

“Or maybe you’re one of those guys who doesn't want kids.”

“What?” He gasped. “Why am I the bad guy?”

“How does that make you a bad guy? There are plenty of people that, for a myriad of reasons, don’t want the responsibility or pressure of being parents.”

He shifted, grumbling. “Well, I’m not one of those people. I want kids. I mean… not that I’ve been planning on… Technically, I’m not sure it’s something I can… I’m just saying I like kids,” he finally finished. 

“I don’t know. Up till now, it wasn’t something I thought about.” She sat back, staring at her stomach, which her coat was definitely going to have a hard time covering today. Not that she was huge, but it wasn’t a maternity coat and the buttons were stretched to their limit. “It is a lot of responsibility. I’ve never really seen myself as a mom.”

“I don’t think we have to tell them anything,” Clark said softly. “It’s not like they interrogate you at these places.” His hand gripped hers on the seat between them. “And I think you can handle it.”

She turned to him. “Yeah?”

He gave her that smile, that lopsided, almost shy smile that always told her Clark was about to get mushy. “Sometimes I’m amazed at what you can take on. All the things you’ve been through… Chloe, there are people that would collapse under the weight of all that and you never do.”

She looked away, but kept her hand in his. “So what do you call seeing a therapist?”

“Healthy. Sometimes I’ve thought we should all see Sarah, too.”

She turned to him, frowning. “I thought you guys already did.”

“I mean seeing her more often than we do,” he said quickly. “Anyway, raising that baby doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, you have a large pool of babysitters to choose from.”

Chloe had to laugh. “You think that’ll last past the first poopy diaper?”

“Well, I promise I will.”

She glanced sideways at him, still smiling. “So you say now…”

“I will. Someone’s going to have to teach that kid to throw a ball.”

“What if he doesn’t like sports?”

“Pfft. That won’t be possible if I’m around. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure…”

“What?” Chloe dropped her smile and turned fully to him. “You know, he could have better things to do with his time than… throw balls at things. He could start reading early and there are so many books I loved when I was…”

“It’s more than throwing balls at things,” Clark hissed. “Not every sport is the same.”

“Fine. Some hit balls at things. I’m just saying that boys don’t have to play sports.”

“I’m not saying he has to, either,” Clark said hotly. “But you could at least let him try!”

“I’m not saying I won’t let him, but…” She stopped. Were they seriously arguing about how to raise this baby? On the one hand, it was surreal, on the other, it was all too real. Up until now, she hadn’t thought much about this baby beyond searching online for the best crib and now he was a boy torn between sports and books. She found herself laughing. "Sports. My God..."

“What? I think team sports are a great way to learn discipline and control. Dad waited too long to let me, but when I finally played, it helped me work on adjusting my powers to new…”

“Clark, this kid doesn’t even have a name, let alone a frustrated football star inside him. Let’s table this until he’s… born or something. I don’t know. Besides, we’re here.”

“What do you think you’re going to find here, anyway?” Clark grumbled as they moved up the walk and past the green and gold sign. “We already knew she was here.”

“I don’t know. This was my only way into the building.” She turned to him. “Listen, we’ve got this far. I just want to see how far we can get. Maybe this where the trail goes cold, but I need to see it through.”

***********

“…and, as you can see, we’re a bit light on our youngest residents,” Sister Susan was saying as she moved through the school rooms. “Really, most infants are found placement immediately. The same goes for toddlers, but sometimes it’s hard with older children, especially ones with… difficulties adjusting to new situations,” she said carefully. “Really, for those children, we’re more of a care facility. Infants are a different story.” She turned to Chloe. “Really, if you were to go through us, I can’t say your child would spend much time here. There are many people that want to foster or adopt a child they can… Well, that they can mold from a younger age. But I should warn you that we deal with closed adoptions only. We work with an organization and the screening process is stringent these days. Don’t worry. There is nothing that is not looked into.”

“So if I were to give my child up, using your… services,” Chloe started carefully, “I couldn’t find him or…” She trailed off, not sure how to finish that. It was hard to even pretend. Somewhere along the way, maybe even in that little fight with Clark in the cab, this baby had become real to her, a person with interests. She was so curious to know what they’d be. But, right now, she was trying to put herself in the shoes of the woman who bore Tess Mercer. “I mean, he couldn’t find me either.”

“No. I’m sorry if that’s something you’d want. We don’t deal with open adoption cases. I know that does work for some, but… It’s just not what we do. If you’re having doubts, there are other placement…”

“I haven’t made a decision either way,” Chloe said quickly, glancing back at Clark, trailing behind. He was taking pictures with his phone -- the rooms, the dining area, the grounds. He’d told Sister Susan he just wanted to make sure it had all the resources needed. But what was the real reason? She turned back to the nun. “You said the screening process was more stringent these days. Just wondering about that. Did it used to be... less so?”

“I confess, we had some issues in the past. Bad management, poorer living conditions, but we had a generous grant a few years back and implemented programs that helped us really streamline things. I’ve been here for years. Of course, I was only teaching before I moved into administration. But things are much better, even if I say it myself. We even received recognition from the Kansas Children’s Service League three years running.” She moved into the hall and gestured to three plaques on the wall, surrounded by large clusters of photos of children, large and small. 

Clark joined them, then, and even snapped that darned wall. What was he doing?

Chloe pulled him to her side, annoyed. “You’ve definitely given me a lot to think about.” She leaned heavily against Clark. “Oh… my,” she breathed.

“Are you alright?” Sister Susan asked. 

“Yeah. Are you?” Clark echoed, but she saw the glint in his eye. 

“Gosh, I must be tired,” she said, ignoring him, putting on a pained smile. “I haven’t been sleeping well and I left my water in the cab. If I could just sit for a moment…”

“I’ll get you some water,” Sister Susan cut in hurriedly. “You just sit right there.” She led her to a wooden bench along the wall. “I’ll be right back.”

Clark snorted as Sister Susan shuffled off. “Knew it.”

“What did you know?”

“That you’d fake the vapors. By the way, I love all the ‘gosh’ and ‘oh, my’ and…”

“She’s a nun, Clark! I’m not about to break out my longshoreman’s vocabulary book.”

“Still, who talks like that? You’re coming off weird,” he said, snapping a shot of the wall.

“You’re one to talk, Ansel Adams.” She huffed and adjusted herself on the bench. It was short, more for little legs than fully grown ones. “This was useless, anyway. You were right. We know nothing we didn’t know before.” He was still snapping. “Okay. What’s with the pictures?”

“I have an idea. I’ll tell you later.”

“You might as well tell me now. Sister Susan isn’t exactly a speed walker.” Chloe was pretty sure she spotted a corrective shoe.

“It’s just…” He turned to her. “Chloe, I didn’t tell you everything Tess told me about her childhood. You and me might have had our challenges, growing up, but we were never afraid of the people who raised us. Wouldn’t you want to know if there was something else in your past, just any other option?” He crouched in front of her. “You’ve watched her with the other stuff we handed in. You were looking to see if she suspected we were looking into her and, Chloe, she didn’t blink.” He shook his head and stood. “All this time, I kind of thought we were looking into things Tess already knew, private things she’s trying to hide. But what if we’re finding out things she doesn’t know herself?”

“So we’re helping Tess now?” She blinked up at him. “The woman who spies on us every chance she gets?”

“I think we should just slip a few shots of this place in with our story notes, see if anything helps jog her memory.”

“Here, I thought this was terribly intrusive.”

“It is. But it’s still the truth. And maybe we aren’t the only ones who need to know it.” He turned back to the wall as Sister Susan’s shuffling step moved closer down the hall. “Tess was here,” he hissed.

She shrugged and shook her head. “That’s been established, but I’m still not sure…”

“I mean. I see her. This is her. Isn’t it?” Clark was staring at one of the little pictures in the collages pasted around the plaques.

Chloe stood to join him. She saw the picture he was looking at almost immediately, now that she was looking. It was a little girl standing in front of a blackboard. She couldn’t be more than three, but she looked so serious. Red hair, a high forehead, and a look of dissatisfaction they both seemed to know all too well by now.

“I see you’re looking at our little graduates.”

Chloe turned to see Sister Susan, holding a bottle of water. 

She took it. “Is that what you call them?”

“Well, they’re all over the map in age. Some children stay here most of their lives, some only stay here in transition. I taught here for some time, too, so I remember most of them. I like to keep a shot of every child who finds a home through our efforts. It just helps remind me I’m doing something worthwhile.”

Chloe supposed she needed that. Nuns weren’t exactly compensated for their work. She ran her finger over that red haired girl’s picture, initials scribbled into the bottom. “LT,” she read. Was it really her?

“Hmm?” Sister Susan moved closer. “Oh, Lena Theresa. At least, that’s what we called her at the time.”

Theresa. Tess was sometimes short for Theresa.

"I took this picture." Sister Susan shook her head at the photo. “I remember because it took me three tries before I gave up. I never could get her to smile for a picture. Said she wasn’t going to smile unless something made her happy and posing for a stupid picture wasn’t it.” She laughed. “Very opinionated for such a little thing. You know, you aren’t the first to ask about her. Anyhow...”

Chloe took a deep breath. She had to play this carefully, keep the subject on…

“It must be those... piercing eyes of hers.” It was Clark who spoke. “I guess everyone must ask,” he said carefully.

“Oh, not everyone. But I remember a young man was touring, considering donating, a few years back and he was quite arrested by Lena.” She sighed. “Such a sad, little thing at times. But very intelligent.” She stared at the photo, then smiled and opened her mouth as if to change the subject. "Well..."

Chloe couldn’t have that. “I hope she went somewhere nice,” Chloe said quickly. “Do you know? I mean, I just hope… Do you ever get peace of mind on these kids? What happened after?” She cradled her stomach. “It would help me to know what happened to… Was it... Lena?”

“Oh, she was adopted out before her fifth birthday. I don’t remember everything as I was only teaching then. But I heard the couple who took her seemed lovely, such sweet southern manners.”

Chloe had nothing to say to that. Whoever gave Tess up to the Mercers had no idea what they were putting her into. For a second, staring at this serious little this girl and knowing she was no happier today, Chloe could see why Clark felt so sorry for her.

“That young donor,” she heard Clark say. “Did he end up donating?”

“As a matter of fact, he did – and very generously, too. We had a hall named after him. It was a shame to hear he passed last year. I know he was tied up in a few strange things, always in the tabloids, but I’ll always be grateful for what he did for our organization.”

Chloe glanced up. “Who?”

“Oh, what was his name? I should know this,” Sister Susan dithered. “He was part of a powerful family in this town…” She snapped her fingers beside her ear. “Lohman? Lerner?”

“Luthor,” Clark supplied.

“That’s the one!”

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

“I’m trying to decide,” Clark said softly as he stared at the back of their cab driver’s head through the partition. “If it’s completely insane or painfully obvious.”

“She’s definitely Luthor-like,” Chloe breathed. “I mean, I thought so from the first. Not that I knew then that...” She shook her head. “I mean, I don’t know now. We don’t know for sure.”

“It could explain things,” Clark said, frowning. “Maybe she came here to look into where she was from.”

“But she can’t know she was from here. You just pointed that out. Besides, she arrived here because Lex put her in charge out of nowhere.” Chloe leaned back against the seat, exhausted. “And now we know why.”

“But we don’t know for sure. We seem to keep coming back to that.” Clark sighed and pulled out his phone. “Either way, I want to get these pictures into our story notes.”

Chloe turned to him. “You still want to tip her off? After that?”

“Maybe more than ever. ” He shrugged. “We’re going to find the truth, whatever happens. We know more than she does, already.”

“We don’t even know that. Clark, she may know everything and just be damned good about hiding it.”

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

She wasn’t hiding it well.

“Ah, this mythical human interest piece of yours. ” Tess forced her eyes back to the notes and away from Sullivan’s ill-fitting coat, which she was wearing indoors. If she was going to continue to pretend she wasn’t pregnant, she could at least do Tess the favor of hiding it better than this. “I thought you must have decided to scrap it,” she said in measured tones. “But here it is again. And only a month or so later.”

Clark cleared his throat. “We’ve been holding off. We wanted to talk to a few more organizations closer to the holidays.”

Tess lifted an eyebrow. “So you’re finished? Then where’s the draft?”

They glanced at each other before Chloe spoke. “We can have it done before the Sunday edition. We just thought you might want to look over our notes before we wrote it up.”

So not only were they still hiding things from her, now they wanted to make a game of wasting her time. Tess pasted on a smile. “I didn’t know you two required such hand-holding. Do you want a gold star or…”

“Look, we just want you to look at the legwork,” Clark cut in, “just one last time before the write-up. If you think it's fine, then…”

“I don't know if it's fine. Let me see,” Tess sighed, forcing her eyes to the notes again. It was still spectacularly annoying. Sullivan was getting bigger every day. It’s not as if she could legally force her to disclose her condition. And she really couldn’t say much about it. Then again, what was her main complaint about Sullivan and Kent? That they were thorough in their work and kept her out of their personal lives? The more she thought about it, the less she found herself caring.

Lex seemed to want her to keep her head down and work and she was minding it less and less. At least The Daily Planet was something tangible, something she could say she had a hand in. Circulation was not up by much since the third quarter, but traffic – hence ad revenue – on the website had increased. Their site was at least better than The Star’s, with its messy layout and animated ads for adult websites or the “secret to whitening teeth.” Throwing herself into this was at least a better distraction than drinking and complaining deep into the night. And, crazy enough, she was good at it.

“There’s no way I’ll run it with these pictures,” she said with confidence. “They’re out of focus, there’s no composition… Who did you get to take these?”

“Uh… my cell phone,” Clark said sheepishly. “I was just… they’re just a general idea. We can send someone out to get better shots this week.”

“Fine, do that. And drop the general idea.” She examined the printed shots. “You’re only going to get four pictures at the most, so make them count. These empty classrooms and…” She stopped, staring at a picture of an aged swing, the green paint chipped away in places and showing bits of another color underneath. She couldn’t help thinking it was yellow. The whole thing should be yellow, it was a duck, after all. It should have one blue eye on each side of its face and the metal stirrups should be orange, like mutated feet. 

She remembered one like that. Was it at her parents’ house? No. They had a tire swing. And even that was in such disrepair she couldn’t play on it for fear it would snap. Maybe it was at one of the playgrounds she spent her time hiding at. Maybe it was a popular model, like every playground had one scary duck swing that every wanted to fight over and Tess couldn’t see why because it was creepy and…

“Tess?”

She glanced up, shaking off the sudden melancholy. Clark was staring at her closely. So was Chloe. In fact, they’d both moved at least a foot closer. “It should be fine. Just none of this depressing scenery.” She shoved the notes back at them, wanting them away from her. “It’s Christmas. Just give me one kid smiling in a wheelchair, a group painting rainbows or whatever sugary thing kids paint, and a toddler with chocolate on its face. I’ll give you one underweight infant, but that’s it.” She moved back behind her desk and sat, finding her eyes damp. “I want a first draft by Thursday, not Friday. And send Jared to get the shots, but have him see me first.” She picked up her phone. “You can go.”

She hung up the receiver when they shuffled out as it was more to look busy than anything. She didn’t have anyone to call. She didn’t know why she cared if Sullivan and Kent saw her get emotional. She didn’t even know why she was emotional. Maybe it was all this sad, disadvantaged youth dreck. She’d been on the receiving end of a few visits from well-meaning organizations. They did nothing, in the end. But she got away on her own. In fact, she personally didn’t see growing up with disadvantages as anything to cry about. If you could survive childhood, helpless and legally dependent on others, if you could fight your way free of that, then you were fine. 

She was free now, wasn’t she? 

She stared at her blinds in the fading sunlight and suddenly they looked an awful lot like bars. 

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

“Then you’re blind.” Dinah kicked off the wall and sliced through the water, easily putting ten feet between herself and Chloe.

“I’m not blind,” Chloe sputtered, trying to keep up. “I’m trying to tell you that I see why you think what you think, but you’re wrong and… Can you slow down? I need to finally get you clear on this.”

“Why?” Dinah kicked off the opposite wall and made her way back to Chloe. “It was two months ago, practically ancient history. And, even if every word I said to Clark in our little tiff back then was dead wrong, you two are getting along fine now. Way more than fine, if you ask…”

“That! That right there.” Chloe jabbed a finger at her across the floating divider. “You keep doing that, implying there’s something going on with me and Clark and…”

“No. I’m not under any delusion that there is anything going on between you and Clark. And that, that right there,” she said, waving her finger around mockingly, “is the problem. If you're refusing to acknowledge it because the timing sucks, then that's one thing. But if you seriously don't see it then…”

“Then what?”

“I’m trying to find a polite way to call you stupid. The man sees to your every need. If you’re at headquarters, he’s there. It’s one thing when he was hanging around headquarters. But now you’ve moved out and guess who I barely see just hanging out. Hmm, let me think…”

“He’s not at my place… much. He only comes over when he has something to do… to fix… I mean, he…”

“I know, Sweetie. I’m sure he always has some excuse,” Dinah said, backstroking away.

“Damn it, he’s just being helpful,” Chloe said, following. “Emil spends time helping me, too. Do you want to make something out of that?”

Dinah snorted. “No, but I could. I bet Clark can barely stand how much he gets to stare at your lady bits.”

“Stop it!”

Dinah slapped the water. “Oh, you’re no fun. And that’s another point. If you didn’t think I had a point, you wouldn’t get so upset.”

Chloe stiffened. “I’m not upset. I just… I am…”

“Listen, I know. I know this is a sticky situation,” Dinah cut in softly, moving closer. “But, I can’t lie, in my own subtle way, I’ve been rooting for you two.”

“Subtle?” Chloe scoffed.

“I know everything’s up in the air and stressy and miserable,” Dinah went on. “So why not? Why not grab a little happiness in the middle of all this? What are you afraid of? I can tell you right now, that man wants to grab you right back.”

Chloe shook her head. “The only thing I’m grabbing is a cab home and a shower.” She flicked water at Dinah as she moved to the ladder. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazily perceptive and insightful, maybe… Hey, wait up!”

By the time Chloe was home and showering off the chlorine, she had it in perspective. Maybe Dinah was just bored. Patrols had been routine, her relationship with Oliver had probably settled by now. Maybe she had too much free time on her hands. 

Hell, she knew what it was like to root for a coupling. Victor and Sarah might not be a ball of excitement, but she was interested all the same. She can only imagine how interesting she and Clark might be to Dinah. Two coworkers, one of whom was super-powered and the other going through a dramatic pregnancy. It seemed like Dinah had a little soap opera going for herself. And she said she didn’t like reality TV…

Chloe stilled in the middle of drying off. There was a noise – and not the pipes, though they were a bit noisy at night. It wasn’t a hiss, more of a shuffle. She grabbed her robe and shrugged into it, trying to decide between the plunger and the toilet brush. Those were the only weapons in the bathroom, but she doubted either would strike fear into the heart of an intruder. Maybe some mild disgust, but...

She pressed her ear to the door, then fell heavily against it at a loud whap.

“Chloe?”

She backed away. “Clark, don’t knock so loud,” she groaned, rubbing her ear.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you were… I mean, I couldn’t look through in case you were… I’ve got some LED lightbulbs. I want to change out your lamps.”

She shook her head, trying to figure out why this had to be done at ten at night.

I’m sure he always has some excuse.

She pushed Dinah’s voice away and adjusted her robe before opening the door. “Right now? It’s a little late.”

Clark shifted a box in his hands. “I was reading this article about how those flourescent bulbs… I mean they use less energy, but they contain mercury and pregnant women shouldn’t be around them. If they break, they can release…”

“Okay.” She stared at the large box in his hands. “How many lamps do you think I have?”

He chuckled and moved into the living room. “This isn’t all bulbs. I actually had a few of your things in my fruit cellar. When we were putting your stuff in storage, I put a few things there, stuff I thought might be safer with me.”

She followed him in and peeked in the box when he placed it down, taking his package of bulbs out. “Hey! My ‘Go Crows’ coffee mug!”

He grinned as he moved away, starting on the lamps. “I just thought some stuff was too important to leave in a locker.”

“You were right,” she said, pulling out her antique typewriter.

“Hey, that’s heavy.” Clark dropped the lampshade he was removing and sped up to take the typewriter. “Where do you want it?” he grunted, a little red-faced.

Maybe it was a bit heavy to her, but she didn't think it would be heavy to him. Then she noticed her robe’s neckline was gaping a little. She pulled it shut and looked around. “I guess the bookshelf. It’s still pretty empty.” She tightened her sash as she dug back into the box, embarrassed. But she was finding it hard to not be delighted when she found the bottom lined with hardback books. “I guess these will help. I hadn’t even gone through my book boxes yet. I didn’t even know these weren’t in there.”

“I took everything that wasn’t a paperback just in case. Thought they should be somewhere cool and dry.”

She stared at him as he moved around, changing out her bulbs at ten at night. Was there anything Clark Kent didn’t think to do for her these days?

The man sees to your every need.

Stupid Dinah. 

“I’ll be back,” she said, moving into the bedroom and closing the door. She’d been planning on wearing her silky, slinky lavender slip to bed tonight. Not for any reason except that she wasn’t going to fit into it by next week, if the rate her belly was growing was any indication. She’d wanted to wear something pretty one last time before putting it away and wondering if she’d ever get back into it. She rather doubted she’d be parading around in that with Clark here. He might think she had ideas and she didn’t. He didn’t, either. No one had ideas.

I can tell you right now, that man wants to grab you right back.

And Dinah really needed to stop popping into her head. She quickly put on her worn blue, very unsexy pajamas with the little sheep and clouds and stuffed her feet into slippers before putting her robe back on and belting it tightly. Not that she needed to. In fact, she could parade in front of Clark buck naked and he’d only worry about her getting cold.

Maybe he did go above and beyond these days, but this was Clark – pretty much the patron hero of damsels in distress. Even if there wasn’t much immediate distress, he was trying, in his own way, to be there for her. If he was a little overbearing -- so what? She was used to it by now. 

When she came out, he was placing her fluorescent bulbs in a shoe box in slow motion, like they could explode any second. “We didn’t get to talk much, with you running off to the gym,” Clark said as he gingerly placed one down. “Admit it. You saw it, too --- with Tess...”

“If by it, you mean her staring at my belly a dozen times..."

"I didn't mean that. But so what? You're not legally bound to say anything before you're ready." He frowned. "But I guess you're going to have to if you want enough maternity leave. Maybe we could take out a calendar and figure what date you should..."

"Please not yet," Chloe said tiredly. "I've only just accepted that I shouldn't even bother unpacking my prettier shoes. Let's not put me in labor just yet." She shuddered. "But I saw the other thing, too. Tess turned white as a sheet at those pictures.”

“She recognized something, but she doesn’t know.” Clark let out a breath as he put a lid on the shoebox. “I think she should know.”

“So what do you want to do? Tell her we strongly suspect she may be a Luthor based on the recollection of a nun and some logical leaps?” She took a small pile of books to the shelf. “Even though this seems like a big scoop, we’ve effectively met our dead end.”

“Not necessarily. Now that we know what we’re looking for, we can find proof. I mean, there are DNA testing kits. You can send away for them and…”

“Unless you have Lionel Luthor’s saliva on ice, there’s nothing to test with, Clark.”

“You don’t need to find the father. Not to find shared paternity between siblings.”

She placed the books down and turned to him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Tracking down Lucas Luthor. All I would have to do is swab the inside of his cheek. I could do it while he was sleeping. He wouldn’t even have to know I was there. Neither would Tess.”

Her eyes widened. “You are getting positively sneaky. Am I a bad influence?”

He smiled. “You’re the worst.”

“Okay. If you can get the samples, then I actually have a contact at Star Labs Chicago. When I was working Watchtower, Oliver had me liaison with them a few times and I have a rapport with a one of… Hey!” She reached into the box and came up grinning. “I know this book. Someone remembered this on my last birthday even though he neglected to show up. You know, with everything that went down after, I never did check for an inscription.” She opened it.

“Huh?” Clark sped up to her. “Wait! Don’t…”

Something fluttered to the floor, something pink.

Clark snatched it up, but not before she got another look. “I meant to take that out. It’s just a receipt for…”

“No. I know what that is.” She saw his name scribbled on the front of the folded, wrinkled letter. She held out her hand. “That's my letter.”

He held onto it. "It was written to me."

"But I never gave it to you."

He stared at it for what seemed like a long time before he placed it in her hand and paced away. 

“I thought I threw this out,” she said dully.

“Well, maybe you didn’t.”

“No, I did. I specifically remember talking to you about it and taking it back and, after you left, I finally…”

“Fine. You did. I went back and found it in the trash later,” he said, finally stilling.

She shook her head, unfolding the letter. It was falling apart. “Why would you…”

“I was just trying to figure it out. I mean, I was talking to Lois later that day and thinking about how you had these feelings then and I hardly knew how much you must have…” He shook his head. “And I know you were over it. You wanted to marry Jimmy. You wanted to be happy and normal and I wanted that for you. I just… I never got to read it then. I only got to see it for a second and I wanted to take another look and…”

“How many looks did you take?” she breathed, feeling the paper. It was soft as cloth by now, and so worn at the creases it was practically torn.

“I told you. I just needed to figure it out. Why did it come up then, right before your wedding? Why then, why not some other time when…” He paced back to her. “Why did you start going with him in the first placed, just when… Damn it, Chloe! Why is there always something in the way?”

She could only stare at him. “Of what?”

He shoved a hand through his hair roughly. “You know, we’ve got work tomorrow. You were right before.” He moved to the door. “It’s a little late for this. I’ll…”

He was gone before he finished. 

She was left staring at the door, dumbfounded.

Then it opened again. “I forgot the bulbs,” he said rushing past her. “They’re dangerous. Mercury. Good night,” he said before disappearing again.

She barely had time to register he was gone before he was back again. 

He stared at her, sputtering. “I was only… I just… Oh, screw it!” He gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her in, his lips suddenly hard on hers.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I know. That’s en evil cliffie. I’m working on the next chapter and trying to get it out ASAP.

As you can see, I kind of let the Granny Goodness stuff be a thing of the past (bad management and all that) and not really applying to the story. I just have enough to do with this fic. I learned my lesson after The Almost Series. Subplots take a darned novel up on their own.

I also changed her name from Lena Lutessa (Lutessa? For real?) to Lena Theresa. Tess is often used as nickname for Theresa so it could still work without sounding horribly silly. (LUTESSA?)

Back soon!