Clark sighed and stood up. "Well, do you want to plan on me carrying you out starting tomorrow morning?" he said resignedly.
"That would be good", she said, trying to keep a businesslike tone.
"I guess we'd better get to bed now, then", he said. Then Clark looked over at the clothesline where her clothes from the suitcase still hung. "Are they dry yet?"
Lana walked over and felt her nightgown. "It's dry."
"Let me boil some water for us to brush our teeth in, and if you want to wash, I can heat up more water."
She smiled, again amused at the use of his abilities for such ordinary purposes. She thought about teasing him about it, but then settled for a quiet "Thank you."
Clark suited the thought to the deed and soon they stood next to each other, brushing their teeth, then rinsing with the boiled water.
"I didn't think you'd have to brush your teeth, being an alien and all", she asked him, curious now.
"Are you kidding? My parents insisted on it. They were big on oral hygiene." Clark chuckled at the memory. "They never wanted me to have to go to the dentist. Hey, do you want some floss?"
"Um, sure." They carefully didn't look at each other while flossing; one of those too-much-information moments, thought Lana, realizing what Clark meant by that.
"Here's the washcloth and some soap. If you want I can bring the mess tin here and heat up the water, or you can go down to the lake and rinse with the cool water there", Clark offered.
"The lake", Lana decided. "I want to get clean so bad!" She felt gritty and sweaty and sticky. She hadn't washed last night, in shock over the whole Clark revelation. Then she'd spent a lot of today in fear and anxiety. Her clothes felt disgustingly dirty. "In fact, I might walk in and take a bath in the lake. If you could heat up the water in the tin then I could rinse with it."
"No problem." Clark went to the backpack, pulled out a towel. "Can I be your valet?" He walked by the clothesline and pulled off her nightgown.
They walked down to the lakeshore. Lana handed Clark the bar of soap. "Can you hold this for a minute?"
"Sure." Clark stood there, not moving, holding Lana's towel, washcloth, and nightgown in one hand, and the bar of soap in the other. It had a fresh scent. He looked at the lake, and at Lana. She walked to the lake, scooped up a pan-full of water and offered it to him. Without comment, he gave the soap back to her, took the pan from her, aimed his heat vision at it till it seemed to be right, then walked closer to the lake and set it near the waterline.
Lana made a move to take off her sweatshirt, and then said, "Clark…"
"Oh." He turned around, ostentatiously showing that he wasn't looking.
"Soap, please", Lana asked as she put her hand in his and took the soap. "Now don't turn around till I call you."
He could hear Lana walking towards the lake, then heard a small gasp of surprise as she walked in. Apparently the lake was colder than she'd realized. He heard splashing noises as she took the fastest bath she'd taken in quite some time. Despite the apparent cold, Clark noticed that she took the time to soap and rinse her hair. He could hear her reach for the pan of hot water, and sigh as she poured it over herself, warming her up.
Clark walked backwards to the lake, aiming for Lana, guided by his hearing. "I have your towel ready, Madame", he said in a mock-French accent. He walked past the pile of dirty clothes she'd left on the shore.
"Thank you, Jacques", Lana said, getting into the joke. Clark remained with his back turned while she dried herself, then handed him back the towel. He offered her the nightgown; she took it.
"You can turn around now", she said.
Clark turned. In a formless but comfortable nightgown, she looked much younger and more vulnerable than she had in the bulky sweatsuit. Her hair, frizzed out by the impromptu shampoo and the towel-drying, made a dark halo effect around her face. She stood, shivering, on the lake shore.
"You're cold", he said, abandoning the French accent. "Let's get you to bed."
"The clothes?" Lana looked at the sweatsuit, socks, and underwear she'd left on the shore.
"I'll take care of them."
He asked permission with a glance. She nodded and he picked her up and carried her back to the tent. Clark set her down on the sleeping bag, then, at her request, got her comb and brush out of her bag. She sat at the tent entrance, brushing her hair. Clark could see her shiver in between each brushstroke.
"Tomorrow we've got to get you a hot shower", he said.
A longing gleam flashed in her eyes. "That would be wonderful…can you do it?"
"I've got some ideas", Clark said musingly. Maybe if I splash up water with my hand at superspeed while putting the heat vision on it?
Her shivering interrupted his thoughts. "You're really cold", he said, realizing.
"Y-y-yes. That lake was colder than I thought." She laughed ruefully. "It gets cold fast here at night." She stopped brushing her hair to hug herself, hunching up.
"Lana…" Clark said diffidently. "If you'll allow me…?"
She looked at him; he gestured toward his eyes.
Lana trembled for a moment, remembering the horrific day she saw the other aliens use what she now knew was their heat vision to destroy property and kill people. Despite herself, she shrank back.
Clark looked abashed, belatedly realizing this might not be the best thing to offer. "Sorry", he said, embarrassedly, starting to back out of the tent.
Lana saw Clark's hurt expression, mentally kicked herself. I decided to trust him.
"No, wait a minute, Clark", she called. He poked his head back into the tent.
"OK", she said slowly. "Thanks for thinking of me." She straightened her shoulders. "Just don't make it too hot, OK?" she said, trying to say it lightly, but failing.
Clark seemed to understand. "You'll be OK, Lana", he said reassuringly. He kept the heat vision intensity down to a gentle warming. Clark started at her feet, actually taking them one at a time in his hand and brushing off the sand. He could feel the cool skin warming up.
"That feels good", Lana said, stretching her toes a bit.
He didn't reply, but slowly moved his vision upwards, moving back as he did so to include a larger area. Lana stopped shivering, stopped being curled up. She leaned back on her arms, stretched her legs, and almost purred like a cat. Her pregnancy-swollen abdomen pushed the nightgown upward.
"Please…go on."
"Close your eyes", Clark said roughly. She did, and he bathed her face with the warming heat vision. Then he swept back down her body, ending up at her feet.
"Oh, Clark, that was nice", Lana said, opening her eyes. I'm so warm now…" She climbed into the sleeping bag. "Thank you."
There was an awkward moment as their eyes met. Then Clark said, "I'm going down to the lake to wash."
"OK."
He walked away from the tent entrance, leaving it open a bit. Good thing it's dark enough so that the mosquitoes have gone away, Clark thought. He hoped that Lana hadn't realized that he'd kept a gentle breeze going around her during the twilight hours when the mosquitoes were at their worst, fending off the tiny bloodsuckers. He didn't worry about himself. Not only was his scent wrong, they'd never be able to bite him.
Before he headed to the lake, he sped around the campsite, getting things cleaned up and organized for their departure tomorrow. Then he headed towards the lake.
He looked at the pile of Lana's soiled clothes. He took off his own, and threw the pile into the lake. Soaping the clothes a little, he heated the water a bit, agitated it, and washed the clothes. He sped back to the campsite and hung them on the line, hoping Lana wasn't watching. They'd seen each other nude before but it was different now. He considered his options, then heat-visioned the sweatsuit till it was dry.
Clark went to the backpack and pulled out his spare pair of boxers, hanging it on the line beside the sweatsuit and the towel. Then he went to the lake and took a bath. The cool temperature didn't bother him.
It felt good to be clean; normally, he didn't sweat, but the kryptonite had caused some serious perspiration. Clark counted himself lucky he hadn't vomited down his shirt; kryptonite exposure had caused that before.
He finished bathing, then sped back to the campsite. He toweled off, then quickly put on his boxers and sweatsuit. Normally he'd just sleep in his boxers, but with Lana being here…there might be an embarrassing situation.
Clark sat on a log by the fire, staring into the red coals that remained. He planned on curling up on the ground there once he felt a little sleepier. Lana's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Clark? Clark?" She poked her head out the tent entrance.
"What?"
"Aren't you coming in?" she asked.
He looked at her a moment. Frankly, he didn't know what to do. The way she'd acted earlier, he felt that he should stay away. Yes, Lana acted like she'd calmed down, but he didn't want to push his luck. But now, here she was, asking for him.
"Clark. Were you planning on spending the night out on the ground?"
"I did last night", he said. Just reminding her, in case by some crazy reason she'd forgotten. He eyed her suspiciously.
But no, it seemed that Lana had had an attitude change. She looked embarrassed and said "Well, you don't need to tonight." Clark sat by the fire a little longer, nervous. Lana swallowed and said in a tiny voice, "Please, Clark."
He got up and walked to the tent. "Are you sure?" he asked her. Clark could tell that, just like him, she was remembering the days when they'd slept together for romantic purposes. Those days are over now.
"Yes. She shivered; apparently the heat vision warm-up had worn off.
Clark looked at her in concern. "Are you OK?" he asked.
"I'm a little chilly again." She disappeared back into the tent. Her voice floated out. "Maybe you can warm me up again?"
Clark crawled into the tent. She'd opened the sleeping bag and spread it out so it covered the floor of the tent. Apparently instead of bundling up in the bag, she planned on covering herself with the lightweight blanket.
"Hold me, Clark", she whispered.
He stretched out on the sleeping bag, reached for her, and pulled the blanket over them. At this stage of her pregnancy, Lana found it very uncomfortable to sleep on her back. She lay on her side, facing away from him.
Lana's shivers subsided as Clark pulled her closer to him. He was like a furnace, putting out a steady heat. She was so cold lately – just couldn't seem to keep warm. He was so much taller than her that she could stretch out and still be within the confines of his body's heat.
"Lana?" Clark asked cautiously.
"What?" she mumbled, already halfway into sleep.
"Are you, um, are you, OK, with this?" Clark really didn't know how to put it. He supposed he meant something like, Are you OK sleeping with an ex-lover while nine months pregnant with your husband's baby when you're trapped up in the Canadian wilderness and just found out that your lover isn't human? That he's an alien that you just attacked but now you're changing your mind and you're OK with him? Somehow it just seemed hard to put in words.
She opened her eyes, tried to look back over her shoulder at him. She got ready to say something, then didn't say it; then did the same thing again. Clark, in suspense, said, "What?"
Lana suddenly gave a big smile and said, "I trust you, Clark." Then she deliberately closed her eyes and rolled back over. She nuzzled her forehead into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. She gave a little sigh. Soon her breathing segued into the smooth rhythms of sleep.
Clark held her, listened to her breathing and the two heartbeats of mother and child. Slowly he gave a small smile. Hopefully Lana meant what she'd said. He hoped it meant that they'd come to a new understanding. He especially hoped it meant she wasn't going to tell Lex.
If Lex knew-- Clark's mind spiraled down a path of frightening what-ifs. Somehow they all ended up with him trapped somewhere, menaced by kryptonite, forced to do Lex's bidding. He visualized the farm under siege, not only by reporters and TV crews, but by soldiers. His mother, tarred with the brush of harboring an illegal alien – and not the kind from Mexico. He saw his mother's Senate career derailed, trapped in a government interrogation office somewhere, her face as familiar as his on the airwaves. All their privacy gone. His dark fantasies continued. He'd be co-opted by the government, forced to use his powers to hurt others. Clark stirred uneasily; so far he'd managed to avoid that last, but who knew what he'd do when his loved ones were threatened?
The worst would be the smug satisfaction on Lex's face. He'd seen it once before, back when he'd saved Lex from Morgan Edge by taking the brunt of a car crash that would have hit Lex without him. The car had crumpled around him. Lex had stared at him, first with disbelief, then with satisfaction.
Clark stirred uneasily, remembering. "I was right", Lex said. "You aren't even human." He thanked God that Lex had been mixed up with Lionel's schemes. Lionel had arranged electroshock therapy to cover up Lex's knowledge of his own crimes. Fortunately, it had erased Lex's memory of that day too.
Clark had been willing to sacrifice his secret to protect his friend. But that was back when Lex was his friend. Now Lex was his enemy, and Clark knew better than most what Lex was capable of. Lex had pushed the boundaries, and finally had reached the point of no return. He'd arranged a set-up for Clark, an test that would have given him proof – on video no less! - of Clark's powers. The grim irony was that, at that time, Clark had renounced his powers and was human. If it hadn't been for Chloe, saving my butt then…who knows how it would have worked out.
The final dagger in the heart of their friendship was that Lex had put other people in danger – Clark's parents, Lana. Clark was willing to forgive Lex for a lot of things concerning himself (and had, in the past), but jeopardizing the people Clark cared about most had crossed the line. He'd gone to the mansion and punched Lex, making it brutally clear their friendship was over.
Clark began breathing faster just remembering that moment. Then Lana moved a little bit in his embrace, and he settled down.
So keeping his secret from Lex was his #1 priority. Unfortunately, his life as he knew it now rested in Lana's hands, and she'd proven herself a poor secret-keeper before. Clark thought wryly of a Benjamin Franklin aphorism: "Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead."
Thoughts of keeping Lana at the lake for a few more days ran through his mind. He could do it. Without his aid, she was effectively a prisoner here. She had no communication with the outside world. She lacked food. She wouldn't be able to walk out to civilization, not in her condition. A nagging little voice in his mind gave him reasons to keep Lana out of circulation: Maybe if I kept her here a couple more days…if she got more familiar with who I really am…I could tell her that I couldn't go today…Really, all he had to do was delay, just tell Lana he wasn't quite ready to go right now, maybe tomorrow? It wouldn't be hard.
Then Clark snorted, dismissing the prospect. If he kept Lana from returning home, even if she agreed to keep his secret, it would be coercion. A forced bargain is no deal. And could he really do that to her? The person who could do that wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be.
Well, he'd made the choice to come and save Lana – there had been a good chance she actually would have died, alone up here, chilled, in the wilderness, with rescue teams days away or actually unaware of her whereabouts. And, since he'd made that choice, he would follow through till the end, without weaseling about it. He'd taken on a responsibility and he would fulfill his duty, as he saw it, to the best of his abilities. Clark wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he hadn't acted. And, as his father had reminded him numerous times, actions have consequences.
Clark sent up a silent prayer for…he didn't really know what. Somehow it was an inchoate longing to keep the quiet life he knew, to remain friends with Lana, not to let Lex find out. Then he deliberately took all his doubts and fears and metaphorically threw them down a deep well, refusing to think about them anymore.
He made himself think about their trip out tomorrow morning instead. What he'd have to do, arranging meals and water, how he could carry the pack and the best way to hold Lana. Could she walk a little bit? A little exercise would probably be good for her at this stage, although not too much. Lost in the minutiae of everyday details, Clark finally slept.
A moan jarred him out of sleep. Lana, in his arms, tensed her muscles and cried out. Clark could smell her sweat.
"Lana? Are you OK?" he asked.
She didn't answer. The body-deep muscular contraction that passed through her was answer enough. She moaned again.
Then she relaxed. "Clark", she said quietly. "I think I'm in labor."
