This is just a re-uploaded version of the same story. I didn't realize that I hadn't gotten all of it to load properly. Those who noticed the syntax errors, I appreciate the heads-up. Anyway, read (again if you have already) and of course, please review.

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Lois pulled the closest thing from the dresser to change into, muttering obscenities at the discarded shirt on the bed. Her favorite shirt at the moment, ruined. Covered in Kansas mud. That damn dog, she thought. She loved that dog, really, she needed to remind herself that she couldn't kill the hairball with her car, so there was no reason to regress now. But, unfortunately, it had been a long time since she'd kept her own clothes in this dresser, and it seemed that she was relegated to the choices of a certain farm boy she preferred not to think about. But she knew it was in here. Martha had told her that Clark had left without even his clothes in a bag. Just left in the middle of the night, leaving some obscure note saying goodbye to each of them. Except Lois, of course, who seemed not to even warrant a goodbye…whoa, there, Lois, starting to get bitter again.

It had been a year since she'd been at the farm, and an easy two since she'd seen Clark. Martha was insistent, thought, that everyone would be present in the Kent household this year. Including Ben Hubbard, the man Martha had been seeing for the past six months. Lois feared this insistence had been due to her detection of the tension in the once inseparable group. Martha knew that she and Chloe spoke on a regular basis, albeit a phone conversation, but other than that, Chloe stayed in her East Coast residence, and Lois remained in Metropolis.

Lana was back in the fold: she owned the Talon again, as well as a couple florists and jewelry stores in town. She'd moved on and decided that her future may very well be her past. She'd let go of the Isis Foundation in Metropolis; it had become less of the purpose she'd intended throughout her obsession of her ex-husband.

Jimmy, he'd been relegated to Lois' sidekick photographer, and he and Chloe, after two failed weddings, had finally let go and moved on. Well, they said they did, but they still spoke on the phone regularly, and he'd made several trips to visit her. Lois figured they just decided to let life happen, and for that, she was excited.

Clark, well, no one really knew where he was. He just took off, realizing his destiny or something like that. Off to find himself…whatever that could mean. He had contacted Martha once or twice as far as Lois knew, which could only mean he was really far away. But she knew he'd be here. Which meant Martha didn't know just how bad things had become between the two. Of course, no one did. Chloe prodded, wondering what had happened to all the progress Lois and Clark had made to becoming best friends, but she had no real idea. Even Lana had asked if there had been more there, but after Lois's insistence and threat of bodily harm at the suggestion, she dropped it.

Which led her here, sleeping in a room that seemed unchanged since the last time she'd been here. The pictures had changed, and Martha had put on Lois' favorite sheets, but she could still smell him. This made it infinitely worse, so Lois was going about the task of spraying her perfume about the room…not working, either.

"Lois, honey, whenever you're changed, I've got dinner going."

"Just a sec, Mrs-Martha. I'll be right down," Lois yelled, a little louder than she intended. She shut her suitcase, and straightened the shirt she'd put on. Checking to make sure all of her items were unpacked, she laughed. Just like all those years ago, the dresser was filled with her clothes. And just like all those years ago, his were still in it, too. Shaking her head, she bounded down the stairs, Martha's cooking already making her mouth water.

"Lois. Chloe just called. She said she tried your cell but couldn't get through. She's almost here. And Jimmy's with her. I guess she met up with him in Metropolis, so she brought him along."

"Good, I guess that means we have a photographer," Lois kidded.

"Lana just pulled up," Martha observed, noticing the Prius pulling up into the drive.

"This is going to be interesting," Lois mused, silently wondering if Clark had even spoken to Lana since she'd left him.

"I thought you and Lana got along now," Martha chided slightly.

"Oh, yeah, we do, it's just-"

"You're worried about Clark? It should be fine, I think he mentioned that he'd spoken to her the other day when he called to say he'd be home." Lois couldn't pick between being hurt that Clark had told her that information or that he'd called Lana, but not her.

"Hmm…are you sure I should be here Mrs. Kent? Clark hasn't spoken to me since he left, and this is his homecoming. Obviously he's spoken to everyone else."

"For the last time: it's Martha. And of course you should be here: you're family. I don't know who he's spoken to. He's been in remote locations after all, and I just assumed he'd spoken to all of you. He hasn't talked to you at all?"

"No…"The knock on the door cut her off. Martha ushered Lana in the door, and Lois couldn't help but feel a little jealous. She remembered when Lana first came back, right before Clark left, and she remembered this feeling: trying to hide this undercurrent of inadequacy she was pushing down now. Lana was at least four inches shorter than Lois, but her exotic features always made the often-confident Lois stand down just a little.

"Martha!" Lana cheered. Lois bit back a light groan. She got along with Lana, sure, but she was still a wee bit annoyed by her. The women embraced, welcoming a stiff Lois into their hug.

"Lana, I'm so glad you could make it tonight."

"Of course, I'm sorry I haven't been out here more. I know I'm in town often enough, but I'm worrying I've bitten off more than I anticipated," she giggled. Again, Lois really tried not to groan. The crunch of tires allowed her a distraction.

"That must be Chloe. I'm gonna go say hi," Lois rushed, all but running out the door to see her cousin. She hadn't seen her in a year; their work lives made it nearly impossible to visit on any day but holidays.

Two hours into coffee and Martha's homemade cooking: the group was well into reminiscing. Currently they were avoiding the topic of their reason for being there. For this, Lois was grateful, she couldn't handle hearing about him. She would admit, she wondered what he had been doing. What he had seen, done, what he looked like…wonder if he's more muscular, stop it, Lane, don't go there.

"When was he supposed to get here?" Lana asked, breaking the avoidance of Clark. Damn it, Pinkie, you had to, Lois thought.

"Any minute now, actually," Martha responded. As if on cue, headlights peaked down the long driveway. Breathe, Lane, you can do this, oh, no, never mind, retreat, but where? Lois's mind was trying to find a plausible escape route. Staring into her fifth coffee, she realized one.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go to the ladies' room. I'll be right back. Try not to have too much fun without me," without another word, she took off up the stairs, leaving a bewildered group staring after her.

"Either Lois has had too much coffee, or she's still avoiding him," Chloe hypothesized.

"She's probably still miffed that she got bumped down on the floor when he left."

"I would think she'd be over it by now. She's practically the star of the Planet," Lana responded to Jimmy.

"Yeah, but you should hear the Chief. It's "Kent" this and "Kent" that. Kinda reminds her everyday."

"Oh." The group rose from the table as the work boots stepped on the porch, signaling Clark's arrival. The door opened, and the six-foot plus raven haired subject came through, shaking the light rain from his hair.

He didn't look too much different: his hair was shorter, certainly, and his face a little less clean-shaven, and he wasn't wearing plaid. Instead, he was wearing dark khaki pants and a dark blue shirt that clung to him tightly. Also gone was his trademark red jacket, instead he wore what looked like an old army jacket: pockets and zippers galore, and looked a little worse for wear.

"Clark!" Martha greeted, rushing to hug her son. He picked her up in greeting, squeezing her as tightly as he could without hurting her. Chloe got the next hug, and he spun her around as excited as he was to see her. Lana even hugged him tightly. It seemed as there was no tension between the two. Jimmy shook his hand, grateful to see his friend.

Lois heard the greetings being made, but she made no move to join. Gone was the panic, now she was just pissed. He just walked in there, like he'd never hurt all of them by just leaving. And they were welcoming him with open arms! No way was Lois Lane going to let him get away with it. He just dismissed them years ago, not even telling them where he was going. He hadn't so much as called her. She didn't even know whether or not he was alive. So here she sat on his bed, determined not to say hello. She was giving in.

Thirty minutes went by, and she never even heard her name. She wondered if they'd just forgotten she was there. But she now knew that while Martha had insisted she be present, Clark wasn't aware she was supposed to be. So when he excused himself for a few moments, she figured she'd be fine just laying on the bed. He wouldn't look for her.

The bathroom door down the hall closed, and opened a few minutes later. She continued staring at the ceiling as she heard his work boots clomp down the hall to pass her doorway, on his way back to the stairs. She heard them stop, but didn't look up, assuming he was just stopping to look at a photo or something. So it was a fair shock when he spoke to her.

"Lois?" She sat up suddenly as he came in the room, taking in her appearance.

"Welcome home," she muttered, trying to avoid eye contact. She was still more angry than she thought she would have been.

"I am," he responded, stopping near the foot of the bed. She swung her feet off to stand on the other side of the bed, leaving the object between them.

"So, I'm gonna…"she started to walk past him, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"Lo…"he breathed.

"Clark, don't," she warned. He flinched at the use of his given name in that tone. She took her hand out of his.

"You're still angry."

"Yeah, Clark, I'm still angry. Forgive me, I just can't get used to being used…it's a thing. One day, I'll learn to deal," she bit back. He clenched his jaw.

"Lo, I never meant-"

"Don't! Don't call me "Lo," don't you start apologizing, don't come up with some great excuse, because guess what, Clark! I don't want it!" She was raising her voice slightly, but they were still speaking low enough that they hadn't drawn attention to their standoff.

"Lois, there are so many things I want to say to you. So many things you need to know. Just let me-" "What, Clark? Explain? Because, please, this ought to be entertaining. No, you don't get to be the martyr, because you left us. You left me. Got it? The only thing I want to hear from you is goodbye! But I didn't even get that last time!" She walked out of the room. He followed.

"If I could take it back, believe me, I would have never-"

"That's not what I'm mad about, Clark! God, that's what you think your mistake was?" She was probably yelling a little louder than necessary. But if pissed was her description of herself earlier, there may not be a word to describe her current demeanor.

"Lois, I'm so-"

"No! You know, you can go to hell! Because I'm so sick of this! Of worrying about you! Of thinking about you! Remembering that-that! You were so amazing to me for one moment in time, Clark! And then poof, you're gone! The next day! I freaking wake up, and you're gone! Not just for one day, but two years, Clark! You never called, you never wrote, no e-mail, not even a freakin' text message to tell me you were alive! You could call everyone but me! Explain that, huh, Clark?" She was hysterical now, and everyone downstairs could hear her. Tears were spilling down her cheeks, but she wasn't even done yet.

"Do you know how hard it was to leave? Knowing how I felt? Just calm down, please," he spoke in a low voice, trying not to let anyone into the situation too much.

"How you felt? Please! Don't you dare tell me to calm down! I'll be as loud as I damn well please! You used me, Clark, I opened up to you, I let you in, and you left me."

"No, Lois, I didn't know I had to leave. I just laid there, and I watched you sleep. I didn't wanna leave. Ever. I could've spent the rest of my life watching you sleep. I've never felt so at peace. I meant what I said, Lo, I lo-"

"Don't you dare! If you even get close to it! You don't love me, Clark. It's called good sex, apparently that's all I'm good for! If you really meant you loved me, I wouldn't have woken up alone! And never heard from you again!"

"Lois, please, lower your voice." His warnings didn't matter, everyone had already heard. And everyone was having trouble closing their mouths. The looks on their faces were quite similar. Everyone had theories as to why the two were no longer close, but no one had gotten that close to the idea.

"You think I care? You want me to get quieter? You don't want me to tell the world that you fu-"

"Lois! God! It wasn't like that, and you damn well know it!"

"Go to hell, Clark Kent, and stay there," she responded, running down the stairs and out the door to her car.

Clark came down slowly after her, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The group staring at him was a mixture of wonder, fear, anger, and, in Jimmy's case, pure pity.

"You never called Lois?" Chloe asked. He'd kept in occasional contact with the blonde, and she merely assumed he'd spoken to Lois.

"I couldn't," he responded. He'd been with Jor-El's training, she knew that. Lois was tied to his destiny, but she had to become her own destiny first. To do that, he'd had to avoid contact with her. Which had been hard, but it was supposed to work out.

"I don't even know what to say, Clark," Lana muttered. She looked so hurt, and no one really knew why.

"All I can say is, son, you screwed up," Ben looked at Clark in wonder.

"Yeah, I did, but…"

"No "buts" Clark, don't make the same mistake twice," Lana warned him. "Make her stay. She's the one, right?" He only nodded.

"Then go after her."

"Do you want us to help you find her?" Jimmy asked. "She pulled out of here kinda fast."

"No, Jimmy, I know where she is." And with that he left.

He wanted to superspeed, but his mind couldn't focus on anything but her. He wanted her, needed her even, and, yeah, he knew now, he definitely loved her. He'd told her that…

"Smallville, I swear, if you don't focus…"

"Come on, Lo, I'm focused, I just don't see why you're so panicked. The article looks great. It's a surefire slam dunk. And, may I say, the byline looks fantastic," he grinned. Their editor had switched the byline to "pop off the pages" as she'd said and now his name led it.

"Kent and Lane just doesn't sound as good as Lane and Kent does, sorry."

"I think it works either way."

"Oh really?"

"Our names look good together," he responded quietly, sitting up on the couch they occupied in her Metropolis apartment. She leaned forward to take another drink of her water. Granted, their banter had leaned as of late toward flirtation, but this was cutting it a little close. To distract herself, Lois turned up the volume on her speakers, waiting for the next song on her iPod to distract her. As she listened though, she wondered if Clark meant more lately. She knew, and could admit to herself, she'd developed feelings for him, and it seemed maybe he was telling her that he, in fact, reciprocated. Deciding not to react to much into it, she waited until the song changed to even look at him. Luck would have it that it went to a love song next. She forgot she'd had this song, and she found herself singing when the chorus came…

"I used to think this was a sad song," he muttered. "And then I realized, it was about taking chances. That sometimes your destiny is up to you…"

"It always is, Clark," she responded. This was the moment. It was now or never, and her flight or flee response was in full gear. More than half of her said run, but she knew if she did, she'd regret it forever. So when he pulled her in for a hug, she was slightly disappointed. Even the feel of his soft lips on her forehead did little to assuage to slight disheartening in her chest. She could have sworn he was going to kiss her.

She got up from the couch to really escape more than anything else, but he grabbed her hand pulling her into his lap. What came next was possibly the best kiss of her life, and the next twenty equaled. She was the one who pushed it, so when they ended up in her bed, she was shocked he still stopped to ask if it was what she wanted.

After hours of what she could only deem as the best sex to ever occur in the history of mankind, he pulled her tight against him and held her. He whispered to the last words she'd heard him say in two years as they fell asleep.

"I love you, Lo. Always."

"Just give me a chance," Clark yelled into the cornstalks as he reached the field. He knew she was in there. It was their spot. The spot she'd found him all those years ago. A spot they had both retreated to more than once.

"I did, Clark," he heard her. She was just on the other side. When he got to her, her broken heart sat so visibly it hurt him. She turned to him with tear-stained cheeks. "I gave you my heart, my body, my soul. I was only ever vulnerable with you. You were the only one who really ever made me happy, or sad. Or angry. You, Clark. I let you in, and you left me."

"Give me a chance to explain."

"Why, Clark?" She responded. He was closing in, standing so close she could feel the heat off of him

"What if I missed you, Lo?" He responded. Echoing those lyrics that changed their lives those two years ago. "What if you missed me. You found me, Lo, because you were supposed to. Because we're supposed to be. I can control my destiny. What would it take, Lo? Just to make you my destiny? Cause you're the one. I won't go. I love you." She couldn't meet his eyes; he had to pull her face to look at him. "Please, say something, Lo."

"I couldn't miss you, Smallville," she responded, breaking down in his arms. And they fell to the soggy ground, holding each other and crying.

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