Restless Nights (Chapter Sixteen)

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Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

Chapter Sixteen

Clark Kent was kissing her.

And she had no idea what to do about it. This wasn’t exactly something she thought would happen this night – this lifetime, even.

It wasn’t as if it was out of the realm of possibility. Chloe Sullivan had kissed Clark Kent four times… that she remembered. He once told her about two other times, one of which might have had more than one kiss, that she definitely had no recollection of. That was kind of par for the course in Smallville, missing minutes, hours, even days sometimes. Regardless, she didn’t count those times she couldn't remember except to wonder who kissed who, how many times. She never asked, of course. They’d long since settled into being friends and the idea of asking was awkward and the idea of keeping some kind of score seemed silly. 

But, by her count, it was four and every single one was so fleeting, she barely had a chance to register she’d been kissed at all… and maybe she hadn’t. She’d kissed him each and every time. Maybe the last had some participation from him, but as that was more than three years ago, she’d begun to think she’d imagined it, that Clark had never actually kissed her, even kissed her back.

She couldn’t say that now. Clark Kent was most definitely kissing her now. And no idea how to react except to stand there, arms hanging, feet dangling, eyes half open, being kissed – and by Clark. She couldn’t seem to get past that part, couldn’t even decide how to feel about it, didn’t even close her eyes before it was over.

He released her and her feet met the ground as he backed away, his hands up as if she had a gun on him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “for that and the letter and…” He shook his head, eyes unfocused. “No. I’m not sorry about that. I… I mean, except if it made you uncomfortable." He stilled, staring at her. "Did it?” 

She just stood there, hand at her lips, staring at him. She had nothing to say. She couldn’t even decide if she was uncomfortable. Maybe if he kissed her again, she could be sure…

He growled and paced away. “I didn’t mean to put that letter in that book. It was just. I’d been reading it… The book, not the letter… to you when you were out for the summer… Well, I guess I kept thinking it would help if you heard something familiar and sometimes I’d read it on my own because… I don’t know. I thought you might be impressed if I knew the weird tales and the letter… Well, I would look at that, too, just sometimes, even before the summer and… and… and…”

“Clark, it’s okay,” she found herself saying, more to stop him pacing than out of any feeling that any of this was okay. She still wasn’t sure what it was. "I mean, it’s just a letter. I’m not mad or…”

“Then the kiss. I’m sorry I… Wait.” He stilled, shaking his head again. “No, I’m not sorry.” He moved to her. “Chloe, you and me… There’s always… Damn it!” And he was kissing her again.

At least this time, she was over the initial shock, enough to start thinking about whether she should be kissing back. She’d just decided she might as well give it a try when his lips were gone again, though his arms stayed looped around her. 

“You say I touch you too much,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, “And I know I do. It’s hard not to. Sometimes I feel like I have to touch you, just to keep checking you’re still here, that you won’t leave again…”

“Clark, I wasn’t gone that long with Davis.” She found her hands moving to his arms, either to steady herself or keep his arms around her. She couldn’t decide which.

“Maybe it wasn’t forever, but it felt like it would be at the time and I couldn’t stand it. Then there was that other you and she was gone just as…”

“Other me?”

“God, I keep forgetting about all you don’t know.” He sighed and pulled her in, her head against his chest and his hand making circles on her back. “It’s not that we don’t want to tell you, Chloe. It’s just that, with everything going on, you have enough to… Jesus! This is exactly why I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorr…”

“No.” She kept her grip on his arms when he started to pull away, meeting his eyes. “Clark, I want to know. What about the other me?” And don’t stop touching me. She really didn’t want this to end before she even knew how to feel.

“I found you in the woods – or I thought I did. It wasn’t you. It was one of Tess’ assistants, a shapeshifter named Eva Greer.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “You did mention her. Any relation to…”

“You know, I wondered that myself. I never looked into it. So much happened after,” he said softly. “I mean, she died and…”

“How?”

“There was some kind of chip implanted in Tess' Black Creek mutants, some kind of kill switch and…”

“Jesus, Clark! You still feel sorry for this woman?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure she did it,” he grumbled. “Tess said Lex implanted the chips and they malfunctioned and I have no way of knowing if that's true or not. Either way, Tess is just... Listen, there’s something in Tess, something that tries to be good. But how can someone be good if no one ever taught them how? I got lucky, Chloe. Everything good about me, good that I do, is because of my parents. These powers are just how I do it, but it could have been different. I could have been different with the wrong parents. And you… You could have taken your absence of a mother and acted out and you didn't.”

She let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Who’s to say I didn’t? Talking to Sarah… a lot of my obsessive truth seeking might have been my way of finding something solid in my life. And it was touch-and-go a few times with me. That deal with Lionel, all the craziness this year…” Sebastian Kane. She was still afraid to tell Sarah. Sometimes she thought Clark, if anyone, could understand. “Clark, there are things about last year you don't know."

“Chloe, I don’t want to talk about the past.”

“But you should know some…”

“There are things you don’t know either,” he cut in. “And you don’t have to. The point is that other you… she wasn’t you. But she did help me realize something. I didn’t want to be angry anymore, I didn’t want to be at odds and I promised myself that, if you came back, we could start over. But then you’re back and gone just as soon, trapped in that coma, and I think I spent every night by your bed just to keep hold of your hand. This hand,” he said softly, pulling it to his chest. “It made no sense, but I felt like, if I didn’t keep hold on you, you’d never come back. When you woke, I couldn’t stop. I could barely keep it in check, how much I needed to touch you, then this…” He glanced down between them. “Chloe, I know my timing is the worst. I think it always has been with you. But I think I should stop caring, stop waiting for some right time because it never comes.”

Her eyes widened as he took that hand, kissed it softly. 

“Sometimes I think, deep down, I’ve always kept you in my back pocket – but not the way you think. It’s because I can never let it go – this half-formed idea of you and me. Like one of these days, everything could line up. But there’s always something in the way.” He bent down, still keeping hold of her hand, picked up the letter from the floor. “This letter, Chloe… I can’t even tell you how many times I read it. Not just this summer, but before, ever since I knew it existed. Even through Lana coming back and trying again with her, even though it didn’t work. It never did. I kept wondering if you were right about the kind of girls you grow out of. Then I wondered about the kind you grow into and…” He sighed and shook his head, staring at the letter. “I don’t know if it was even clear to me. All I know is that I couldn’t get this letter out of my head since the day you showed it to me. I just kept thinking… Why now? Why does this come up just when you’re getting married?”

She pulled her hand from his, took a step away. “Clark, you gave me away. I don’t remember much about the wedding, but I remember you… You never said any of this after or…”

“How could I?” He stared at her sadly. “Jimmy was… Well, he was normal. He was something away from all this danger. That’s what you wanted and I wanted that for you. I wanted it so much that I…” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I wanted something safe for you. I just kept thinking I’d get past this and maybe that letter... Maybe it was pointing me to someone else. Then again, you said it was pointing you to Jimmy, but that didn’t exactly...” He trailed off, growled softly. “Chloe, maybe this letter means just what it says. Sometimes I think of the day I met Jimmy, the day I came back from The Phantom Zone, surviving that whole time and thinking of you, of what it meant when you kissed me, only to come back and find you flirting with him and… Well, he was in the way. I grew to like the guy, but he was just another thing in the way. There’s always something in the way. Sometimes it’s you and sometimes it’s me. But it always just… it keeps coming back to us. Maybe this time we could see where it goes.”

She could only stare at him, holding her letter, his eyes so strange and soft. And she still had no idea what to say to any of this!

“God, I‘m so sorry.” He paced away, running a hand down his face. “You’re going through therapy and you’re having a baby and you don’t even have a crib and I’m dumping this on you. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I left and I shouldn’t have come back.” He sped up to her and pressed the letter into her hand. “Chloe, this doesn’t mean anything for you. This is my problem and you don’t have to worry about it.” He moved to the door. “I’m sorry. I should just…”

“You should just stop talking,” she cut in loudly as he opened it. “You can at least let me talk.”

He stilled in the doorway. “Well, you weren’t saying anything.”

“That’s just because you wouldn’t stop saying things. I have… things to say,” she lied. She might find some.

He stopped and turned to her… waited… then waited some more. “Are you…”

“Could you give me minute?” she hissed. 

“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” He stood there, his hand still on the doorknob

She stared down at the letter, opened it again, stared at the smudged words before she spoke. “You know, when I threw this letter out, I meant it. I can’t honestly say that, the minute I met Jimmy again, I was over you. That took work, years of it. Work on Jimmy, convincing him I was over you and convincing myself and… It paid off, Clark. I was over you. But sometimes I wonder… I could have burned this letter. And I didn’t. I could have moved away from Smallville. My life was here in Metropolis for years. Hell, Jimmy’s life was here and I convinced him to stay there, saying stuff about the rent and all that coffee right downstairs.” She sighed and folded the letter. She thought about what Sarah said, about whether she’d be here now if Clark wasn’t always around. If she’d have been in Smallville then without him and… she wouldn’t have. He was the only thing keeping her there. “I stayed in an apartment owned by Lex Luthor in a town that had nothing for me except…” She finally glanced up at him. “Well, except you.”

He stared back, something close to a smile on his lips. “Well, you said you wanted to hunt me down when I moped.”

“That, too.” She stared down at her slippers. “I mean, it’s not like you answer your phone in mope mode. But maybe it was just really hard to think of a day when I couldn’t see you if I needed to or just… just wanted to. Maybe you’re not the only one with this barely-there idea about us.” She met his eyes. “But it’s been a long time since I let even the idea of us in. It’s like I only know how to keep you out. I don’t know how to let you in.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I don’t know for sure,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “The only thing I’m sure of right now is that I want you to kiss me again.”

She heard the door shut and opened her eyes as he approached her slowly, his hands cupping her face. “Chloe…”

“Just kiss me,” she breathed. She had to know for sure, after all this time, if this was even something she wanted. Even those last two kisses had gone by so quickly that she barely had a second to know if she wanted them to go on. It would be a terrible, after all this work, to get hung up on Clark all over again if he couldn’t even kiss.

Of course, she should have known. By the time he bent to her… His lips brushed hers, so softly back and forth before they opened. For a scant second she wondered if he’d be one of those guys who just stab in the tongue and ruin everything, but he didn’t. His lips just wrapped around her bottom lip, pulling gently before he pulled away, brushing back and forth again.

Clark had always gotten good grades with what she thought was the minimum amount of work, had always attracted every new girl in town effortlessly, managed to run a farm and save lives, so of course he could kiss pretty much perfectly… and maddeningly. She had been fairly passive up to now and she was almost ready to grip him hard, shove her own tongue into his mouth, when he tasted her, just the tiniest slide across her lips that made her knees buckle.

He caught her, one hand sliding down to grip her back as she sagged against him, the other still cupping her face, thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheekbone as his mouth opened over hers.

“Kiss me back,” he breathed against her lips.

She would… in a second. Right now, she just wanted a few more seconds of him kissing her in no uncertain terms, knowing this was happening and not because she was throwing herself at him in some moment of girlish rapture. No. They were adults now… a fact that was only hammered in when that gripping hand pulled her closer and she felt him hard against her stomach.

She let out an involuntary moan and slid her arms up his, gripping him back hard as she opened her lips, sliding her tongue out to taste just the underside of his top lip.

He sort of lost it then, both hands sliding down to her buttocks, squeezing and pulling her against him as he backed the both of them to the door. His tongue dipped and slid against hers as he turned them around, pressing her against that door with his hips and his hands and his sudden pulses inside her skin… Wait.

She stilled and so did he, the both of them pulling apart and staring down between their bodies.

She gasped as she felt it again, an almost involuntary laugh bursting out of her. “He kicked.” She pressed a hand to her belly, almost willing it to happen again.

“I thought I felt something,” Clark panted. “I wasn’t sure…”

“No, I felt it. Here.” She pressed his hand to her stomach. “He’s doing it… just a little. Can you feel it?”

Clark’s hand splayed against her. “I guess he stopped. I don’t…”

“There! Feel that?” It was just a little one, she couldn't tell if it was a hand or a foot against her, but he was moving.

He smiled widely. “I do.” He met her eyes. “Wow.”

“I know.” She smiled back. “Wow.”

His smile faded. “This isn’t the right time, is it?”

She dropped hers as well. “I thought you said you were done waiting for the right time.”

“Well, I know there’s a wrong time,” he said, pulling his hand away as he stepped back. “I think you do, too.”

She shook her head sadly and moved past him. “Maybe it’s always the wrong time for you me.”

“I don’t think that’s…”

“For crying out loud, Clark.” She whirled on him. “Did you ever think there’s a reason there’s always something in the way? Maybe this just… Whatever there is between us, it’s not enough to get past all the… all the stuff that actually is standing between us,” she finished weakly, “especially now.”

“No.” He stared at her, shaking his head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Maybe there’s a lot happening right now. Maybe we need to just table this for a month and…”

“Just for a month? Clark, I’m about to bring a life into the world. This is not the time to add… just any other new things.”

“Then I’m sorry,” he said dully. “I knew I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” she cut in, her voice breaking. She turned away, back to that box, blindly pulling out some books. “I’m glad you did. It’s good to feel wanted.” She turned and forced a smile. “I mean, I’m not at my most attractive these days. But, you know, we explored this and it was interesting, but…”

“Don’t,” he cut in.

“I’m just saying…”

“If you’re just making it some kind of curiosity we got out of the way, like you getting our first kiss over with,” he said tightly, “then don’t. I know how I feel, Chloe. If you don’t feel the same, then say it.”

“I’m not saying I don’t,” she cut in loudly. “I’m just… I… Clark, less than a year ago you were reconnecting with Lana and I was married to Jimmy.”

He stared at her. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know!”

“Chloe…” He took a deep breath. “I’m seriously trying not to put pressure on you, here. But if you don’t feel there’s anything between us, then just…”

“I don’t know! That’s the point, Clark. I don’t know what I feel because almost everything I feel is out of whack right now. Yesterday, I found my cell phone in the fridge. You know those commercials where the little kids dress up like doctors? This is something I cry over now. So, for me to make any decisions with any kind of permanence right now is insane. Yes, I wanted you for years, I struggled to not want you for years since and, right now, I want you to rip these ugly flannel pajamas right off me! But I don’t know if any of that is a good decision and neither do you!” He was staring at her pajamas now. She quickly covered the sheep and the clouds up with her robe. “Clark!”

His eyes lifted to hers. “Yeah? I mean… Yeah. You’re right. We need to table this.” He shook his head, “I mean, we have a story to finish and... I get it.” But he was moving closer, his eyes on her neckline and his hand on her robe’s dangling sash. He dropped it quickly. “I get it. I’m going.”

And he was gone.

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

They didn’t talk much. It wasn’t as if they didn’t talk at all. They had story to finish as well as their little side project, but aside from their little confabs on those, they didn’t talk, especially not about…it.. Sometimes, he seemed to start and she quickly changed the subject to story structure or what section to cut or…

“Are those results ever going to get here?” she said over Clark. 

“Shh!” Clark looked around the commissary. “I only dropped the samples yesterday morning.”

“But that’s plenty of time,” she whispered, rather glad he took the bait. “Are you sure you got good swabs?”

“I got exactly what I needed while they were sleeping,” Clark said impatiently. “They didn’t even know I was there.”

“But what if you didn’t actually get any… cheek?”

“He said he got them. He would have told you if the sample wasn’t viable.”

“Then this is on him. What’s with him? I mean, I told him it was a rush. I can’t believe…”

“Could you keep your voice down?” Clark hissed, looking around. 

They hadn’t told the others about their progress on the Tess front. They just weren’t sure there was anything to tell yet and weren’t even sure, if that Luthor connection turned out to be true, if it was something to announce to the group at large. But it was fine. There was only Bart and Victor in the commissary today and they seemed absorbed in some video, hissing loudly.

“Did you see that?” Bart giggled. “Right in the nuts!”

“That’s awful. Why did you show me this? Play it again.” Victor gestured to Clark from their table. “Clark, you have to see this. There’s this dog and…”

“I’m good. Bart already spoiled the ending,” he said, squirming a little in his chair. 

Chloe rolled her eyes and sipped at her meager coffee ration, wondering if Clark could truly sympathize. Had he ever been injured that particular way on green K? It was kind of an awkward thing to ask. 

“So, as I was saying… After work today, there’s this bakery on tenth. I thought we could go there and just talk about…”

Speaking of awkward things…

“You know, I wonder if the mail’s come at my place,” Chloe cut in, pushing back her chair. “I should check before…”

“Chloe, it’s barely after eight,” Clark said, putting a hand up. “I doubt it’s come yet. And fine. Message received. I guess we’re just tabling this indefinitely,” he finished on a mutter.

“I never said indefinitely.”

“I thought we said we’d talk about it after the story.”

Technically, he said that, not her. “The story’s not done.”

“Well, it’s Thursday. We have to get our draft in today.”

“But we still have Sarah’s interview to get in,” Chloe checked her watch, “if she ever gets here. And the draft isn’t even turned in, so…”

Clark threw up his hands. “So we can’t even talk about talking about it?”

“Not when we have to focus,” she mumbled, opening her folder. “We can’t fit in much, so I think just three good questions and we brief her on the photographer this afternoon and…”

“Yes. Fine. Three,” Clark said abruptly. “Let me see what we can narrow it down to.”

She sighed and stared at him as he pulled the folder to him. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it. There were times in these last few days when she stared at her phone, willing herself not to call him with some excuse. There were a few times she thought of breaking something just to have him come over and take care if it and while he was at it, he could take care of a few other things. But she didn't. Though she did so so far as to unhook the chain in the back of her toilet once, she didn't call him.

She just didn’t trust herself right now. According to everything she was reading, she was coming into what they called pregnancy brain. Today, she almost walked out the door in the dead of winter in her bare feet. Yesterday, it had taken her three tries to put her shirt on right-side out. She also had a sex dream about Lionel Luthor. The less said about that, the better.

She wondered if she should tell Sarah about it today, even though today wasn’t technically a session. It was, at least, something besides her running away from Clark with a faceless baby. But she’d rather not tell anyone about it… ever. Besides, it was just hormones. She’d read that things might get a little horny in the next few months… which was exactly why she needed to keep well away from Clark outside of work. She wasn’t sure she trusted herself not to do something stupid – like maybe rip those notes out of his hands and pull at that ugly tie with footballs he was wearing with an uglier plaid shirt. Maybe she could rip it to shreds. He might even thank her and…

“Morning!”

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered as Sarah swanned in with her giant bag.

“So sorry I’m late,” she said in a rush as she put it down. “It’s just I was thinking about how this photographer’s coming today and I was going to wear a dress and then I thought that might look silly because we’re doing finger-painting today and it’s washable paint, but that doesn’t always mean…” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I kind of split the difference and wore a skirt and blouse. I don’t know. Maybe it looks too dressy. I have time to change after class before…”

“You look nice,” Victor cut in, standing. 

Sarah turned to him, eyes widening. “Hey. Didn’t see you there. Uh…” Her hand went to her hair, which Chloe thought was silly as there wasn’t much of it. “You look nice, too. Not that you have to because you’re not getting your picture… I mean, you always look… You sure it’s okay? Not too dressy?” 

“No. It’s a nice change.” Victor smiled a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something without paint all over it… Not that you look bad with paint all over you… your clothes,” he finished lamely.

God, just kiss already! Chloe madly wondered if they would. If they all made some excuse and left and Victor would just grab Sarah by the blouse and clear a table and… Dear God! Now she was fantasizing about her friends! She had to get it together.

She cleared her throat loudly and stood. “So, we won’t keep you long. We already got a lot from the county website. We just need a few good quotes from you.”

Sarah tore her eyes from Victor and smiled. “Sounds pretty simple.” 

Of course, it wasn’t – which was mostly thanks to Sarah, who kept getting off topic and asking about their story process. 

“Well, Clark and I just take a section each and then trade and mark up each other’s copy. So about the sports therapy. How does that work with the specially-abled…”

“That’s interesting.” Sarah glanced at Clark, absently tapping on her notepad with her pen. Chloe didn’t realize why she had it out. This wasn’t a session and she hadn’t written a thing down. “Who uses the most red pen?”

“She does,” Clark muttered.

“I do not,” Chloe scoffed, snapping her recorder off.

“You do. My drafts are pretty much bloody with question marks by the time you get through…”

“Because you never provide enough detail. It’s just like on The Torch. You’d hand in this vague copy and I’d have to fill in all the details…”

“Exactly. You always want it done your way, so why even bother putting my own spin...”

“Gym gets new mats isn’t exactly a spinnable piece.”

“Well, you never gave me anything better than that.”

“Because you were always late. I was always picking up your slack and you were just so used to it that you let me and…”

“Wow. You two have actually worked together a long time by now,” Sarah cut in with a laugh.

“I’m not sure if I’d call it working together,” Clark said, giving Chloe a tight smile. “One of us always thinks she’s the boss.”

“Stop with that. I just happened to be editor at The Torch and…”

“This wasn’t just at The Torch. You were always pushing me to…”

“To what? Actually take an active role instead of waiting for a disaster to hit? Sometimes I think, if it wasn’t for Oliver coming to town, you’d have never done anything. You never listened to me.”

“Pfft. I kind of think every conversation we have is me listening to you. I hardly ever get a word in…”

“That is not true. The other night, you went on and on and hardly let me…”

“Oh, so now we’re talking about it?”

She closed her lips tight and drew back. “No,” she said, lifting her chin. “We have a story to write. So Sarah…” She pulled her eyes away from Clark and turned back to her, feeling annoyed. “About your program…”

“Oh, yeah.” Sarah smiled and grabbed Chloe’s recorder, snapping it on and speaking quickly. “It’s an after-school program from three to five. We divide our time between homework help, art expression, and light sports in the park just before their parents come. The disabled children are encouraged to join in and every safety precaution is taken. If any kid doesn’t want to join in, we let them watch from the sides, but they usually do end up joining the game in whatever capacity they feel comfortable with. We divide into teams and we do keep score, but not too heavily and we make sure the teams are always switched around each new day so no one gets too competitive or rooted in team think. But I happen to think some competition is healthy and definitely helps them gain confidence. These really are great kids and the high-school aged kids almost always come back to volunteer. It’s really a beautiful thing to see them blossom,” she finished brightly before snapping the recorder off and handing it back to Chloe. “Well, I’ve gotta get to class. It was so great talking to you two. I hope the story’s a big hit,” she said, scribbling on her pad. “Thanks so much for including me.” She smiled ripped off a scrap of paper, handing it to Chloe. “See you Tuesday,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed out.

Chloe just stared after her, kind of realizing what had been annoying her all this time. Sarah wasn’t getting off topic at all. She was controlling the conversation the whole time and saving the info Chloe actually wanted until Sarah got what she did. It was like some sneaky little session, complete with homework. Chloe crumpled the paper, not even looking at it. She had a good mind to throw it out. “Come on. We’d better get to work.” She pulled on her coat.

“Yes, ma’am,” Clark grumbled. 

“Oh, stop it,” she groaned as she moved out and down the hall. “You made me come off like some kind of bossy, pushy…”

“Me? I think you did that all by yourself. And, by the way, I was saving people long before Oliver came to town,” he said as he opened the front door.

“Sure, when you absolutely had to and at the last possible minute,” she pointed out. “Oliver putting this group together was when you finally started patrolling and preventing…”

“Aren’t you going to button your coat? I checked the weather. It’s below freezing.”

She growled and did it, even the middle buttons that barely met. “I see you left out how much you boss me around these days.”

“I only ever gently remind you…”

“Oh, save it.” She started to pull on her gloves, then realized the paper was still in her hand. She quickly opened it as Clark moved down the front steps. 

enough bickering, you two need to FIGHT

“What is that, anyway?”

“Nothing.” She stuffed it into her pocket and moved down the steps, pulling her gloves on. She didn’t want to fight with Clark. She didn’t even want to bicker, then Sarah kept pushing their little buttons and they really didn’t need it, not with a story to finish today and… maybe more. She stared at the postal truck leaving her building. “Mail’s here,” she said with relish, moving quickly to her building.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Just have to update my new fic and I'll be back for another two chapters.