A/N: I started watching Smallville when it first came out but then I stopped at some point during Season 3. I discovered it again recently on
DVD and never realised just how good it was. I absolutely adore Clark/Lois and just had to write a little story about them.

If you like please review. Reviews are like nuggets of gold and very much appreciated. I'm also open to ideas for anything you would like me to write in future chapters of this story.

This is set between season 7 and 8, or more likely at the start of season 8. It's not exactly canon but it's certainly not OC either.

That said, enjoy.

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Chapter One.

He'd had some four years to figure it out. Four years of doing it tough, working the farm, studying Journalism at Met U in between saving people from certain death. He'd broken up with Lana more times than he could count on both hands, when she wasn't with some other guy that was. Then there was the whole, her about to marry Lex which led to him thinking where her head was at? Luckily she came to her senses, left Lex, faked her own death and caused him untold grief. After all of that he had tried getting back with her, but even with her now knowing his secret it just wasn't working out. He had had so many years to fantasise about what life would be like with her that the ideal he'd created in his mind was so far removed from any kind of reality. And the reality was sort of disappointing.

He wasn't happy, neither was she it appeared. It didn't help that he was too afraid to have sex with her in case he hurt her. He could sense her frustration with him.

It wasn't till she had told his counter ego, known as Bizarro, that her month with him was the best time of her life that he'd come to the painful conclusion that just maybe him and Lana were never really meant to be. When she announced that she needed time to think and would be travelling through Europe, he let her go. Burying himself in work in an attempt to forget her and move on.

That had been a year ago. He hadn't heard from her since.

He was now officially sworn of women, and constantly reminding himself that he wasn't human. He was sent here to protect the world. Marriage, children and love was not for him. It never would be. He wouldn't ever be going there, again.

Clark had even resumed his training with his father Jor-el at the fortress in an attempt to reign in his emotions. It helped. He was stronger than ever.

After spending a month there he returned home. His mother was waiting to greet him with open arms on the front porch. She was such a sight for sore eyes. Her anxious eyes skimming over him to note the changes, for reassurance that he was still the same Clark Kent as he walked up the front steps.

Dropping his duffel bag on the wooden floorboards, he pulled her into a warm embrace. "It's okay mom, I'm still me."

Her body sagged with relief, before she pulled back to gaze lovingly up at him. Her hand coming to rest on his cheek, a shaky smile crossing her face. "You need to shave."

"Along with a hot shower and a home cooked meal," he added.

He had sorely missed his mother's cooking in that month spent in the icy fortress. No human warmth or touch, just the robot like instructions and voice of his so called biological father. It was so much warmer here; home.

The hues of the early morning rising sun bathed the farmstead in a golden light. It hurt his eyes. So much colour. It had been a while.

"I can see you've lost weight," his mother spoke, once again there was that anxious tone in her voice. "You didn't eat when there?"

One of Jor-el's trials was to remain focused without nourishment, disciplining the body and mind from any kind of physical need.

"Only what I took with me," he replied, not wanting to worry her.

Mostly dried packet of biscuits and tinned food. He felt his mother's arm slide through his.

"Well now you are home Clark," she said, patting his arm, glancing up at him, "where you should be."

Martha couldn't help adding those last words. It was hard enough being a mother at times, let alone being a mother to a son that just didn't belong to you. She had to share him with his biological father, who called him Kal-el and insisted that he embrace his Krypton heritage.

It was hard to let him go to that fortress. Her every instinct was to beg him not to. Every time he went and returned something had changed about him. He would be more aloof, distant and emotionally unattainable. And it hurt. She had to refrain from going to the fortress and yelling, 'he is not you … you can't have him.'

She bit down on her lip as they entered the house. Only she couldn't and she dreaded to know what Jor-el would do to her son next.

It was a relief to find him okay this time around, but she would be closely observing him over the course of the day. There was always bound to be some changes, however slight.

"I'm just going to have a hot shower," Clark spoke and headed up stairs.

"I'll get us some breakfast."

Over the next few days she planned to constantly remind him that despite his Krypton heritage he was still very much human. He would begin to thaw out. Soon she would see a smile on his lips again, and a spark in his eyes. The old Clark would return. Although since Lana had left he'd been more aloof, distant and it worried her. In part she was glad to see Lana go. As a mother she knew Lana wasn't the right woman for him but it was up to Clark to figure that out for himself. Now she wasn't sure where Clark's feelings lay in regards to Lana or even being with a woman in the future. She had the sinking feeling that his need was being buried deep in order to fulfil a destiny that had been set for him since his birth. At some point her son would have to, no need to realise that it was a destiny he didn't have to do alone. Being alone wasn't healthy, for anyone, human or not.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was served on the table with bacon and eggs on toast, a fresh glass of orange juice and no sign of Clark.

"Clark," she called up the stairs, "breakfast is ready."

She expected to hear his heavy footfall coming down the stairs but still nothing. Had something happened? Filled with sudden worry she hurried up the stairs. The shower door was open, steam coming out which meant he had had a shower but he was no longer there.

"Clark?"

Peeking her head around his bedroom door she spied him lying down on his bed. She quietly took the few steps across his bedroom floor and gazed down at his sleeping form. It was seldom that she had seen him this exhausted. Jor-el must have worked him hard. Again she fought back the resentment and her eyes rested on his bare chest. He really had lost quite a lot of weight. Was starving him part of the trial she silently fumed. How dare he do this to her son, wear him down and just what else had Jor-el done or planned to do to him in his attempt to make Clark invincible and completely emotionally detached?

She hadn't realised just how hard her hands were clasped together till her nails dug into her flesh.

Taking a deep breath she pulled the doona over him, brushing a damp lock of dark hair away from his forehead.

His eyelashes fluttered against the pallor of his skin, she noted the dark rings under his eyes. Sleep was what he needed.

Clark was so comfortable that he didn't even want to move. But as consciousness returned his mind began to gear up and he opened his eyes. Through the crack in his bedroom curtains he could catch the last rays of the setting sun. Setting sun!

He sat up quickly and raked a hand through his tangled hair. His eyes flew to the digital clock. It was six in the evening. He'd been asleep all day!

Pushing the covers aside he swung his legs over the side of the bed and every muscle in his body ached. He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He'd been human before but it had been a while, and he'd forgotten just how debilitating it was.

His father had told him he wouldn't have his powers for a couple of days to give his body a chance at recovering before being immersed with super powers again.

'At times you need to be reminded Kal-el that you are not invincible, it does you good to be like everyone else now and again to appreciate you super abilities and apply them with common sense.'

Who was he to argue? If it meant being normal for a few days then it wasn't always such a bad thing only this time there was no Lana, which also meant no sex. He sighed bitterly and fell back on the bed, his head barely missing the head board. It had been so long since he'd last had it that he could barely remember having it. Not that having sex in future would be a problem, thanks to his latest training he was perfectly capable of having sex now without hurting the other person.

Not that it mattered. Not likely he would be having sex anytime soon.

Eventually he dragged himself out of bed, grabbed his shirt from the end of the bed and buttoning it up as he made his way down stairs. The carpet felt soft under his bare feet. Even the fleece of the grey tracksuit pants felt nice. Thanks to having no powers the sensation of touch was a lot more heightened than normal.

Voices conversing, drifted up the stairwell and he soon detected a very familiar voice; Chloe.

As if on cue she happened to look up just as he reached the bottom step. Her face lit up.

"Clark," she exclaimed and jumping up from the sofa she ran into his welcoming arms.

He swung her around, happy to see her again. She laughed and shot him that infectious smile.

"What's with the beard?"

Setting her down, he ruefully rubbed his chin. "I haven't had a chance to shave yet."

Amusement danced in her eyes. "I've never seen you so scruffy."

Chloe ended up staying for dinner. After barely talking for a month he felt rusty with the social skills. Luckily Chloe was content enough chatting with his mother. He sort of half listened to what they were saying. Despite sleeping all day he still felt tired. He'd find his mind drifting into nothingness before becoming aware that there was silence at the table. He glanced up to find both his mom and Chloe watching him, a worried look on their faces.

"What?"

"Just you've been so quiet

He stabbed a couple of peas on his plate with his fork. "I'm just a bit worn out."

His mother averted her eyes but not quickly enough for him to detect the worry there. Guilt sliced through him. He knew how much she loved him. But on Jor-el's advise maybe it was time he unattached himself from the apron strings. He was 22 years of age now, soon to be 23. Time to move on.

"Oh Clark a letter arrived from the Daily Planet," his mom said, getting up from the table.

He watch her retrieve an envelope from the bench top his curiosity aroused. She handed him the envelope and he gingerly took it from her.

"Must be to do with my application," he murmured, gazing down at the familiar logo The Daily Planet, and feeling suddenly nervous.

Opening the letter he unfolded it, swallowed and gazed down at the words. It took a moment for it to register.

"Well?" his mother and Chloe both asked at the same time.

"I-I'm in …" his eyes met with Chloe's, "You are looking at the latest recruitment into the Daily Planet."

Chloe grinned.

"Congratulations Clark," his mother exclaimed and slipped her arms around his shoulders.

This was just the break he needed and the Daily Planet was the perfect place. He had access to the most happening news and events. He would be in Metropolis, right where the action was.

"We'll be working together," he said, glancing at Chloe.

The smile that crossed her face didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm no longer at the Daily Planet," she murmured, averting her eyes from his.

His face fell.

"Since when?" he began, "you love being a reporter."

She shrugged. "I needed a break, I've been working at the Isis foundation."

Lana's institution, the one she started but never really continued with. It had all been a front so she could spy on Lex. Swallowing, he pushed the memories away.

"I have more time to spend with Jimmy," she continued.

Clark noticed the warmth in her eyes at the mention of his name, lucky her. He felt a brief moment's jealousy which was completely ludicrous. He'd had this inward battle for far too long now, and the sooner he accepted that being in love wasn't for him, the better.

He forced a smile to his lips. "You sound happy."

She nodded, her smile widening. "I am."

They talked some more about Jimmy before the conversation moved back to the Daily Planet, and Clark began discussing just how much more he'd able to do when in Metropolis, which had a high crime rate. In the meantime Martha had cleared the dishes and served dessert. He could feel Chloe listening carefully to his words, a frown crossing her forehead.

"You need a disguise Clark," she blurted out. "You can't just go leaping off tall buildings rescuing people without someone soon putting two and two together and next thing you know your face is splashed across every newspaper in Metropolis."

"She's right Clark," his mother added as she sat down to eat her dessert.

"I'm not wearing a mask," he stated emphatically.

Chloe sighed in frustration and then an idea formed.

"Okay, but I think Clark Kent has to be different to your alter ego, so different that no one would put two and two together."

He frowned.

"Clark Kent the farm boy has to be forgettable, invisible, the sort of person no one pays much attention to."

"Chloe …" he began indignantly.

She had just summed up his early high school years and he really didn't want to revisit that!

"You told me after Lana left that you can't have a normal life like everyone else so what does it matter?"

She was shrewd. Her gaze fixed on him. He contemplated the double meaning of her words. He could see the questions in her eyes, was he over Lana? He could see her trying to make this assessment.

He inwardly sighed and nodded. "And I still stand by that."

He didn't miss the hint of pity in her eyes before she quickly masked it.

"I guess my ego, what there is of it, will have to take a nose dive," he muttered.

Silence descended, his thoughts in turmoil. Everything was going to change, Clark Kent included. The scraping of his mother's chair startled him out of his thoughts. He watched her collect the dishes before his eyes met with Chloe's. She was assessing him, again, and he could see the mental calculations taking place.

"Glasses," she suddenly said, a hint of a smile crossing her face, "black rimmed and the most nerdish glasses that I just happen to have in my hand bag right now."

She disappeared and returned with the most awful black rimmed glasses he had seen. He scowled at them and before he had a chance to protest Chloe shoved them onto his face.

"Why do you have glasses in your bag?" he asked.

"Oh, it was a dress up as your favourite nerd party," Chloe coughed.

Amusement danced in her eyes and he ripped the glasses of his face.

"You can't be serious?" he gasped.

Chloe and his mother exchanged a look that could mean only one thing; they were now scheming and totally serious.

"I think it could work Clark," his mother stated in her matter of fact way, "I also have something I've been working on for you."

Why did he get the feeling he wasn't going to be liking it?

"It's a costume," she called out over her shoulder as she disappeared up the stairs.

His heart sank. Yep, it was bad. He raked a hand through his hair.

"I'm not wearing a mask," he yelled after her.

He returned his attention to Chloe, her critical eyes were now eyeing his hair. "It's too long."

Feeling self-conscious he began to squirm under her scrutiny.

"You need to cut it much shorter than you usually do," she continued, causing him to scowl.

"How short?"

"The shorter the better."

Not what he wanted to hear. To make matters worse she leaned over the table and pushed his hair back from his face. "You need to cut it above your ears so they stick out, and about only half an inch long at the back."

She began pulling at his fringe. "You can keep it a bit longer on top and gel it back or something."

He was speechless now. Her hands came to rest on the table and he noticed the amusement in her eyes. Oh so she was enjoying this.

"You basically want me to butcher my hair?!"

He remembered how Lana used to love running her hands through his hair. It's so thick and wavy, she'd say. He quickly pushed the memories away. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea, would even be cathartic in a way, breaking away from his past.

"C'mon Clark I never realised how vain you were," Chloe scoffed.

"I'm not," he protested.

Chloe's smile widened.

"Alright," he muttered, "I'll go to the barber tomorrow."

"The beard also has to go to Clark."

"I hadn't planned on keeping that."

But he was too lazy to bother shaving now. He might as well get that done at the barbers as well. Knowing his luck he'd probably nick himself and often now that he didn't have his powers.

The costume … Clark didn't know what to make of it. Not wanting to offend his mother, he just nodded in agreement with whatever she and Chloe had to say. But there was no pulling the wool over his mom and her eyes pinpointed him with an even stare.

"You hate it."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"I'm sure it'll grow on me," he quickly said, not wanting to upset her.

Her shoulders sagged. "Is it the cape?" she asked.

It was kind of everything actually.

"And the tights," he stammered.

Chloe giggled alongside him and he whipped his head around to glare at her. Alright for her to laugh, her image wasn't about to become a nerd with his alter ego being a tight wearing cape lover super hero.

"I'm just don't think I'm ready for it yet," he admitted. "Maybe when and if I learn to fly."

It still bugged him that he couldn't.

In the end they came up with a sort of disguise that he was 'okay' with. His mom removed the cape, the vest with the logo was kept. She replaced the tights with navy blue long legged pants.

"It needs something red," Chloe pointed out after they assessed Clark in his costume.

He felt ridiculous.

Chloe's face lit up. "I know," she began excitedly, "how about a red leather jacket."

His mom nodded. "That could work."

The following day, when the usual farm chores had been completed along with lunch, which his mother insisted he have, Clark went to the local barber in town. He was about to embark on his new alter ego image, Clark Kent, the nerdish, bumbling, soon to be reporter. He would be walking into the Daily Planet on Monday looking like … a total geek.

This was just going from bad to worse. His hair was currently longer than usual and he always did wear it more on the longish side so to have to suddenly resort to it being much shorter left him feeling disgruntled.

He recalled Chloe's words from last night, 'its just vanity Clark', and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Easy for her to say, she wasn't about to become a bumbling, forgettable nerd anytime soon.

He was just about to enter the hair salon when he collided into a young woman.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" she snapped.

He knew that voice in an instant and his eyes shot to her face.

"Lois!" he gasped.

Surely life couldn't be so cruel but to throw her his way on today of all days. She frowned as if trying to place him, did he really look that different?

"It's me, Clark."

Instant surprise crossed her face and her eyes lit up. "Smallville?"

He nodded and smiled, couldn't help it. He hadn't seen her in many months. She smiled in return and embraced him in a warm quick hug before pulling back. As in typical Lois fashion, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and her pretty amber eyes began sizing him up. A slight frown dented her forehead. "What's with the caveman look?"

He'd forgotten how abrupt she was with words. He brought a self-conscious hand up to the back of his neck. Inwardly groaning, Lois Lane, of all people, he would have to run into her, because she was never shy of voicing her thoughts. And he could tell she didn't looked pleased by his scruffy appearance.

"Holy crap Clark, you look awful."

And yep, there it was. He squirmed uncomfortably. Don't mind my feelings Lois, he felt like saying.

It was on the tip of his tongue to come back with some snarky retort when her next words rendered him speechless.

"Lana did this to you didn't she?"

His eyes widened in astonishment.

"You know bad break up and you still haven't gotten over it, so now you've become a social recluse and stopped caring about your appearance …" she continued.

"No, it's not …" he tried to butt in, but she just held up a hand to silence him.

"I can see it written all over your face Clark."

Oh hell, not as if he could tell her the truth so he might as well let her draw her own conclusions.

"Maybe," he sighed.

Her face softened.

"You my friend need a pick me up," she smiled up at him, "and I know just the thing."

Why did he get the feeling he wasn't going to like this?

"Oh relax Smallville," she continued, grabbing his hand before he could further protest, "we're just going to go to the local tavern and drown our sorrows."

"Lois!" he began.

She glanced sideways at him and gave a cheeky smile. "Okay then just merry; that make you happy?"

Shaking his head, he felt a small smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. She always had been kind of hard to refuse. Not to mention she had a way of drawing him out of himself, which he hadn't been able to figure out how or why she could? It perplexed him.

And quite suddenly and totally unexpected the world seemed just a tad brighter with Lois in it.

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A/N: To take nothing away from the show because I really loved how Lois helped Clark with his disguise in Season 10, I just wanted to take a slightly different angle with it. It allows for many funny moments in later chapters.

If you like please review! Feedback is always welcomed and muchly appreciated.

Thanks for reading.

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