Chapter 4

Honesty

Friday - Evening, at the barbecue

"Don't be sorry, Clark, the past…is history," Lana said, as she pulled her hand out of his grip. "The only thing about the past we need concern ourselves with is recognizing our mistakes, so we don't make them again."

Lana's hands pressed against Clark's abs and slowly crept their way up his chest, tracing the well-defined ridges and valleys of his muscles. "Someone's been working out since he left Smallville. I like a man that takes care of himself, Clark."

Lana finally ended what Clark could only describe as exquisite torture by locking her hands together behind his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Clark's eyes closed as her lips approached. KISS Oh, God, this is bliss, he thought, and that was his last thought for a while as he returned her kisses with increasing fervor.

"…Clark? Are you okay?" Lana asked.

Clark jerked himself back to reality from his daydream and flushed when he thought about his dream. As if she'd EVER kiss me again, Clark thought, why would she ever want to give me another chance at her heart after the way I burned her so many years ago? Still, one thought from his daydream stayed in his mind: recognize our mistakes, so we don't make them again.

"I'm sorry, Lana," Clark said, as he released her hand. "I guess I just zoned out there for a second."

"What were you thinking, Clark?" Lana asked.

Clark's flush deepened as he looked, desperately, for a way out. "Umm, I was just noticing that something I had heard was true."

"And that is…?"

"I was told that when you see someone for the first time in a long time, like at a reunion, you initially notice the ways in which that person has physically changed but then, after a few seconds, those changes fade and that person goes back to looking like the person you remember."

"So how have I changed, Clark?" Lana asked.

Clark stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he thought. "Do you really want a truthful answer to that? Or are you just wanting a snow job?"

"I've always wanted the truth from you, Clark. I'd think that was the one thing about me you'd never forget."

"I promise, Lana, nothing but the truth from me…from now on."

The sincerity in his voice, and in his eyes, when he said that took Lana aback. For a woman like her who had been lied to so often that she had come to expect it like heat in Arizona, the prospect of a completely truthful Clark Kent was somewhat daunting.

Lana held her hands out to her sides and made a slow 360 degree turn. "So. What's the verdict? Have I gotten fat? Do I look old?" Do you still want me like I want you?

Complete honesty with Lana, Clark thought. What a subject to test that commitment with…telling a woman exactly how she looks, warts and all. How do I get myself into these things?

"Well…the only differences I see…are that you've developed some curves, just where a woman is supposed to have them, your hair seems to be somewhat lighter than I remember, and you've started getting some small crow's feet at the outside corners of your eyes. Other than that, you look like the Lana Lang I remember…still the most gorgeous woman I know."

Furiously embarrassed by the unexpected compliment, Lana was at a loss for words. "Crow's feet, huh?" Lana said, when she regained her power of speech. "I guess that's appropriate for a teacher at Smallville High."

As Clark and Lana moved away from the table to gain a little privacy, Clark said, "Yeah, that's what Pete told me. He said you were teaching art. How do you like it?

"It's surprising, but I love it. Helping to nurture the kids' talents is something I never considered until college, but it's the most rewarding career I can imagine. Plus, I get to stay in Smallville." Lana looked sidelong at Clark, and said, "As for you, I know you're writing for the Daily Planet and doing it very well. That Kerth award you won last year was big news around here."

"Writing is what I do best. I'm not always the best talker, but give me a chance to sort through all of my information, and I can cut right to the heart of a topic."

"It's funny," Lana said, "but Chloe was always the one that wanted to work at the Planet, and now you're the one actually doing it. You and Lois, that is."

"Not so funny, actually. When Chloe…died…Lois and I each took it upon ourselves to take her place, to honor her absolute commitment to discovering truth and fighting for justice. We went through some tough times together, Lois and I, and we're best friends as well as writing partners, even though she still manages to get on my nerves like no one else. Together, I think Lois and I are just about as good as Chloe was all by herself." Clark turned to face Lana directly, and said, "That's my goal as a writer, Lana, to someday be as good of a writer as Chloe always wanted herself to be. To change the world for the better."

"But you do that already Clark. You and Lois were able to help bring down a large part of Intergang with that award-winning series of exposés, and…" whispering now, to make sure no one heard, Lana said, "and, I know you do so much more after work, Clark. Or should I say, Superman?"

Clark's eyes grew wide and his mouth flapped open like a fish out of water. That last comment from Lana hit him like a Kryptonite-enhanced punch.

"Yes, Clark," Lana said, "I know. It would be hard for me to be fooled by a different hair style and that big voice Superman has. After all, I spent years studying that face, and I know every crevice and every pore. You could wear a fedora and sunglasses and I would still know it's you."

"How long have you known?"

"Since that time Superman stopped a runaway Amtrak train in downtown Metropolis."

"So much for protecting you from my secret," Clark said, with a rueful smile.

Lana looked up at Clark quizzically. "That's a strange choice of words. I'd have expected you to say, 'so much for protecting my secret from you,' instead, you seem to believe that I need to be kept safe from you."

This is getting much too serious, much too fast, Clark thought. "That's not something we ought to talk about here. Even bringing up my after-hours gig is dangerous. If you really want to talk about this, I'm all yours after we leave. Okay?"

"Okay." Lana looked around, and it appeared that they were getting ready to start serving the meal, as the caterers were bring large, foil wrapped containers to the serving tables. "How hungry are you, Clark?"

"Well, I had some take-out Chinese for lunch before going out to Crater Lake for a swim, but that was hours ago, so I'm famished."

Lana mulled over her options before saying, "In that case, you're coming to my house. I'll pick something up at the store on the way there and I'll cook, while you tell me why you thought I needed to be protected from you. How's that sound?"

Not giving Clark a chance to decline, Lana took him by the hand and headed for the parking lot. Clark looked longingly over his shoulder at the tables of barbecued ribs, brisket, and chicken being set out along with cole slaw, potato salad, barbeque baked beans, and potato chips. I was hoping for a little more time, he thought darkly as his stomach rumbled.

"Where are you parked, Lana?"

Pulling her keys out of her pocket, Lana pressed a button on the keyless remote and the motorized step swung out from under the running board as her truck's engine came to life. Clark broke out laughing when he saw that her truck was the maroon Ford that had nearly run off the road earlier today in front of the Talon.

"Maybe I'd be safer running to your house," Clark said.

"Huh?"

Clark explained having seen her near-miss earlier that afternoon.

"Well…I was distracted," Lana said defensively. Oh, God, was I ever

After Clark handed Lana up into the cab of her F-350, and then climbed into the passenger side, Lana retorted, "As we both know, you're bulletproof, so getting into a wreck with me is just as safe for you as running would be. Besides, Clark, you don't even know where I live."

Lana stopped at the grocery store to pick up some items for dinner. Looking back at the sheer size of the man she was with, Lana grabbed a family pack of ribeye steaks. A couple packets of her favorite marinade went into the cart along with a small bag of new potatoes. A bunch of leaf lettuce for a salad along with a bottle of salad dressing, and a couple of bottles of a decent red wine to drink.

Clark spent his time pushing the cart and thinking about what he was going to tell Lana. How to make her understand what had happened, how to make her believe what had happened. Thus distracted, the time passed quickly for Clark and they were back in the truck, headed for Lana's.

Curiosity overtook him as they headed toward the edge of town. What kind of house has she bought? Clark wondered. Where would Lana feel most comfortable? A cozy bungalow? A ranch-style house? A split-level house? What?

That sense of curious anticipation lasted until Clark realized they were headed in the direction of her old house, the one she had lived in with Nell. Of course, he thought, she'd choose to live in the house she grew up in. Clark's thoughts from there on turned to memories of Lana and that house.

Lana, on the other hand, grew more nervous the closer they got to their final destination. I hope he doesn't mind that I bought his old house. How to explain that it felt more like home to me than the one just down the lane that I lived in with Nell? Would he understand me telling him it was all I had left of the best time of my life and I didn't want it to belong to someone who didn't know and wouldn't care?

Finally, the old Potter house came into view and as Lana slowed the truck, he heard the faint click of the turn signal, but to his immense surprise, she didn't pull into the drive, instead she turned right, down Hickory Lane, toward…Oh! he thought as a flash of realization hit him. Lana bought our house, though how she could afford it is beyond me.

He turned quickly toward Lana, who had been waiting for this since making the turn. She snuck a peek at Clark, afraid of what his expression might be and was gratified to see a huge, genuine smile.

"Yes, Clark," Lana said softly, "I love this house every bit as much as you do."

She turned left into the long, unpaved driveway, pulling to a stop just next to the low, white fence that surrounded the small yard immediately in front of the house. Clark carried the bag of groceries and followed Lana into the house, setting the bag down on the kitchen table. He looked around slowly, noting what was different and what wasn't.

Most of the furniture was different, but the kitchen table was the same one he had eaten at for years. The pictures on the walls had changed, but the locations where they were hung were the same. Probably hung on the same hooks, too, Clark thought.

Lana just stood back quietly and watched Clark reexamine a part of his past that he had thought was lost. When he turned back to her, there were tears in his eyes. He mouthed a soundless, "Thank you!" before wrapping her in a fierce hug.

Lana's eyes started to well up at that and both of them were in need of a tissue to dry their eyes when he finally let her go. Lana found the box with the decorative crocheted cover, grabbed a tissue, and, on impulse, reached up to dab at Clark's eyes first.

"It's nice to see the old house is in loving hands," Clark said. "I couldn't have wished for anyone better. Mom knew what she was doing when she sold it to you."

"Your Mom always knew what she was doing, Clark."

When Lana finished drying his eyes, Clark picked up a tissue of his own and began to dry her tears. This is what I should have been doing for the last nineteen years, Clark thought. I should've been the one to dry her tears, not the one to cause them. I should have been here to stand by her side, instead of running away to Metropolis. My home is here in Smallville and it always has been, not because of this house, but because this is where Lana is.

Lana noticed a change in Clark's expression as he carefully dabbed at her face. "What's on your mind, Clark?" she asked.

"Regrets, mostly," Clark said as he shrugged his shoulders. "Things left unsaid that should have been said…that kind of thing."

"I'm here for you if you need to talk."

"I know you are…you've always been there for me, and therein lies my problem: I haven't been there for you, not like I should have been, and it's eating me up inside."

Putting her hand on his arm, Lana said, "Don't let the past eat you up, Clark. It can't be changed. Instead of dwelling on your mistakes, just make sure you learn from them and move on."

Clark smiled to think just how close to his daydream what Lana said had come, but then, he reflected, Lana had always been his dream girl. As he collected himself and threw the tissues in the trash, she dug out an assortment of pots and pans and turned her stove on.

Clark casually leaned back against the kitchen counter and watched Lana as she busied herself with dinner preparations. Feeling his stare on her shoulder blades like an unscratchable itch, Lana turned to him, and asked, "Yes?"

"Actually, Lana, the past can be changed. That's why I'm here in your house tonight…to tell you about the time I changed history."