Chloe sits at her computer at the Torch editing the front page story of tomorrow's issue. Her eyes burn and threaten to close but she shakes herself and takes another sip of her triple-shot latte. The school is quiet as death at night, the only sound that of her clacking keyboard. So consumed she is by her writing that she doesn't hear her visitor.

"Chloe…" he says.

She looks up automatically. She didn't have to; she knows that voice. That deep, strong voice haunts her dreams, the same way that adorkable grin haunts her waking moments. He stands in the door of the Torch office clad as ever in that red flannel shirt and jeans, he looks exactly the same but her heart skips a beat anyway.

"Since when does Clark Kent do night studying at school?" she teases, with a grin.

He doesn't answer but comes in and perches on the corner of her desk, the same way he does whenever they're discussing something Wall of Weird-worthy. But now that he's up close, she realises how messy his hair is, and not wind blown either, more like bed-head. She watches him fight with himself over how to say something before her curiosity beats down her politeness.

"Don't take this the wrong way but it looks like you literally rolled out of bed, pulled something on and came here. Clark, what's up?"

Clarks casts his gaze down before he replies, "I was asleep but I had this really weirdly vivid dream and I felt compelled to come find you…"

Chloe pursed her lips and flicked her eyes at the ceiling. Great, another bestie moment. But this had to be a doozy of a dream if it had the unshakeable Clark Kent coming to school at night just to talk about it. She remained silent until he continued his recount.

"It felt like I was lying in one of the fields at the farm. The sun was shining, the clouds were white and fluffy and making the most hilarious shapes. I was holding someone's hand and we were laughing about it. I thought it was Lana but when I looked over…it was you."

Chloe got up and pretended to organise some papers on the other side of the room.

"Sorry to crash your dream, Clark."

"No, wait," Chloe heard her table groan as Clark got up off it, "You don't understand. When I saw you, in the dream, I wasn't surprised, I was…happy. I was so peaceful, I felt like I was floating and then I actually was floating. I looked around and we weren't in the field anymore. We were in the clouds, high above everything. It was amazing. But as amazing as it was, I didn't want to look at any of it. I wanted to see you, to know that you were there with me."

Confusion infusing her expression at each word, Chloe turned around with every intention of saying, "Clark, what are you getting at?"

And almost head-butted Clark's chest. How the hell does he always move so quietly?

She was forced to tilt her head up to look him in the face as he said,

"I know you've always felt like second fiddle to Lana and that's totally my fault. Chloe, I am so sorry for ever making you feel that way. I was a fool, a lovesick fool. The fact that one dream of you made me rush over here…I've been downplaying our connection and dismissing my feelings for you but I don't want to do that anymore."

"I don't expect anything from you but I…feel like I'm gonna explode if I don't tell you. I like you, I really like you, I think I might be in love with you, even…"

Chloe resisted the urge to pinch herself, forcing barely audible sounds from her mouth instead, "What did you just say?"

Clark intertwined his left hand with that of hers at her side and placed his other on her hip and pulled her into him. His hands were so warm and strong, she leaned into his chest and breathed in that musky, irresistible scene of his, muted by the hours of inactivity he had been in bed. His lips grazed her hairline before brushing the shell of her ear and whispering

"I love you, Chloe Sullivan."