A/N: Thanks for all the feedback everyone! Sorry for the delay in updating, but I hope you enjoy!

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Clark sunk into the dark shadows the globe of the Daily Planet provided as gazed out over the sparkling Metropolis skyline. The lights of the city managed to make the roof of the Planet seem like daytime to him, even under the cover of night.

Not that she would be up here with him. No, Lois should be just about to enter the phone booth down below. He'd told her to be in the right phone booth, and he'd intended to blur into the left one once she was settled, but he'd decided against it.

After his conversation with Oliver, one where he knew Oliver was absolutely right, he felt like he needed some distance between him and Lois to have this conversation.

Since, last night, his self-control around her had been severely lacking. He was concerned not even the wall of the phone booth separating them would keep him from restraining himself. Especially after that kiss.

Which was why he found himself pressed into the shadows of the Daily Planet's rooftop, without a clue as to what he was going to say to her.

What could he say? It was something he'd wanted to do for a long time? True enough, but given the fact that, as far as she was concerned, most of their contact had been fleeting as he'd blurred in to save her, he wasn't so sure she'd buy it. Which would lead to questions he wasn't quite ready to answer.

An apology? Well, that would be partly a lie since he wasn't really sorry he'd kissed her, though he was truly sorry if he'd confused her or upset her.

Sighing, he pressed the menu button on the disposable cell Oliver had lent him, just to be on the safe side.

9:59 P.M.

He'd told her 10:00, and thankfully the city had been relatively quiet tonight so he was able to stick to that. And if he knew Lois (and he did), she'd be waiting for the phone to ring at precisely 10:00 on the nose.

His stomach swirled a bit, both with anxiety and anticipation. Sliding open the phone, he pressed the number he had dialed into its memory earlier, and pressed send. He couldn't help the small grin that crossed his lips when he heard her pick up after two short rings.

"Hello?"

"Lois?" he asked, though he knew it was her. He made a conscious attempt to keep his voice lower than normal.

"Yeah, hi," she responded, then paused a moment before continuing. "Thanks for getting in touch with me, I know you have a lot more important things to worry about than keeping a date with some cub reporter."

He smiled into the phone, and was about to respond that she was not just some reporter, when heard her chuckle nervously.

"Not that this is a date," she stammered out quickly. "I would never assume that this was a date. I meant, keeping an appointment. Yeah, keeping an appointment to call me."

"It's no problem, Lois," he said reassuringly, "Things are actually pretty calm tonight."

"Well, now that you've said that, I'm sure you'll have to blur off in a matter of minutes," she teased, a sure sign that she was relaxing a bit. He could almost picture her, leaning against the wall of the phone booth, in that raspberry shirt she'd worn today that was all too distracting with its body-hugging fit, her lips tilted into that sexy grin, the one that made his heart race faster, he was sure, than even his buddy Bart could run.

He shook his head slightly, as if to halt the thoughts that were wandering into place he had firmly declared off-limits.

"So," she continued, "why'd you kiss me last night?"

A quick burst of breath escaped his lips. "Right to the point, huh?"

"Why waste time? Especially with a guy who might have to speed off at any given moment."

"Fair enough," he responded.

A silence followed, one that stretched between them for a few moments.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," he finally said, his voice quiet. And it wasn't a lie. He'd wanted to, that had been true for months, and he wasn't sorry he'd done it, but in his heart, he knew it was something that shouldn't have happened. As giving as he was, he'd had a selfish moment, one in which he'd wanted nothing more in the world than to feel her lips against his.

"Oh," he heard her say, the tone of disappointment in her voice not escaping him.

"Lois, it's …it's complicated," he sighed.

"Right. Look, it's no big deal," she responded, and he recognized her attempted brush-off. "So, if you called me tonight to give me the 'let her down easy' pitch, you can save your breath. It's not necessary, really. "

"That's not why I'm here, I just…I thought you deserved an explanation. I'm not really in the habit of kissing the women I save," he said, hoping to lighten the tension a bit. "The truth is, I don't usually stick around long enough to even know anyone's names, much less anything else. But…you're different."

"How?" she asked softly.

"My life," he began, sliding down the wall he'd been leaning against to sit on the hard cement. "It's...well, it's kinda crazy most of the time. Hiding who I really am, protecting my secret. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I can do what I can do, that I can help out and protect Metropolis, but it doesn't mean that there aren't times when I feel …," his voice trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Alone?"

He smiled slightly at that, her knack for reading people loud and clear very much intact, even over a phone.

"Yeah."

"Do you have anyone you can talk to?"

"I do but…it always seems to come back to my job. What I do."

"And sometimes you need a break from that."

"Something like that. Last night…with you, I didn't feel so alone. And I guess I got caught up in the moment, and for that Lois, I am sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that."

"In case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly fighting you off."

"I noticed," he said softly, his mind flashing back how he'd held her in his arms, the softness of her lips pressed against his. "Still, it wasn't right."

"Look, for the record, if you're feeling guilty or something, forget it. You didn't do anything wrong. Unless there's some superhero code or something that says you shouldn't make out with the women you save."

Clark chuckled despite himself. "There probably is."

"Even so, I'm not upset about it, okay?"

"You're not?"

"No. Actually…it was just what I needed. I've been…well, let's just say the whole guy thing isn't working out so much for me lately. It's nice to know someone's interested."

His heart twisted at that, hearing the hint of sadness in her voice, knowing full well he was the cause.

"Not that I'm assuming you're interested," she said quickly, "I mean, I'm a huge conclusion jumper, don't get me wrong, but I didn't leap to that one, I just meant…"

"Lois," he chimed in, cutting off her nervous rambling. "I know what you meant."

He heard a quick burst of breath before she responded, "Okay, good."

"Though I find it hard to believe you would be having guy trouble."

"Yes, I suppose with you blurring around practically nonstop you'd miss the line of available men just lined up outside my door," she snarked, bringing a tender smile to his lips.

A response, a question, tickled in his brain. He shouldn't do it. What he should do is make up some emergency and tell her he had to go. He absolutely should not utter the words that were now forming in the back of his throat, dangerously close to passing through his lips.

Wrong. It would be wrong. So wrong in about a thousand different ways.

And yet, the devil on his shoulder whispered, she was so closed off to him now. What harm would it do to get a little insight?

"So," he ventured, closing his eyes briefly, the devil having won. "This guy trouble, was it anyone in particular?"

His question was met with silence, and for a minute, he thought he'd scared her off.

Until she finally answered.

"Yeah, this friend of mine I've known for years."

He swallowed hard, gripping the phone a bit tighter in his hands.

"What happened?"

When he once again heard a prolonged bout of quiet, he quickly added, "You know what? It's none of my business."

"No, it's okay…it's not a big deal, it just didn't work out. Never actually happened to begin with really."

Let it go…just let it go.

But he couldn't. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'd hurt her. And he hadn't meant to, yet, they hadn't talked about it, though he knew that had been exactly what she'd wanted to do when she'd asked him for coffee.

He just hadn't been able to cross the street to meet her.

"Why?" he asked, hearing the strain in his own voice and hoping she wouldn't pick up on it.

"Well, I'll spare you the gory details, but long story short? Right initials, wrong girl."

The words themselves, combined with her feeble attempt to make light of it as she'd said them, made him feel like someone had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. Nausea swirled in his stomach, a sensation he normally only felt around kryptonite, as the implication of what she'd said slammed into him.

She thought he wasn't over Lana. That, in her mind, was the reason he hadn't shown up that night to talk about what was happening between them. And even though it didn't really matter, let's face it, the end result was still the same in that he'd pulled back from the chance at a relationship with her, he hated that she thought that was the reason, that she felt the feelings he had for her were nonexistent, while he carried a brightly burning torch for his ex.

It took all his self-control not to superspeed down to her and tell her just how wrong she was.

"Are you sure that's the reason?" he managed to sputter out weakly.

A slightly bitter chuckle came through the phone. "Oh yeah. Be happy your superpowered destiny kept you from witnessing the Clark and Lana rollercoaster."

He managed a half-hearted laugh, the irony not escaping him that he wished she was right, and he hadn't had a front row seat to it, at least in the latter part of their relationship.

"Whatever," she said, continuing, "It's for the best. We probably would have been a disaster together anyway."

"Is that what you really think?" he asked quietly.

A stillness fell between them as she seemed to be weighing his question. His breath caught in his chest, waiting for her answer.

"No," she said, her voice so faint he almost had to use his superhearing to pick it up, "I think we would have been amazing."

Closing his eyes, his head fell back against the wall. Wetness formed behind his closed lids as he ran a hand roughly through his hair, his heart aching with the loss of something he hadn't experienced, yet he knew instinctively that what she'd said was absolutely true.

They would have been amazing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be, it's not your fault," she responded, naïve to the fact that he was apologizing for something else entirely. For being too scared, for himself and for her, for having a secret he was convinced would only hurt her in the long run, for keeping her at arm's length when all he really wanted to do was hold her close and never let her go. For wishing things could be different, that she would always be safe and protected even knowing his secret, but feeling deep down that the only choice was the one he'd made, even if he truly wanted the exact opposite.

"So," she said, breaking the silence that had once again settled over the line, "Are we okay?"

He blinked quickly, her voice shaking him out of his melancholy thoughts. "Yeah, of course we are."

"Good. I'm really glad we talked."

"Me too."

"And…look I know you have a lot on your mind, with what you do and all, and I just want you to know, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Not as a reporter, as a friend. You don't have to feel alone."

His lips curved into a smile at that. "I just might take you up on that."

"I hope you do."

There was a click, then the buzz of a dial tone as she hung up. Closing his phone, he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing quietly.

The knowledge he'd gained tonight did nothing to ease the pain in his heart, knowing how she'd misconstrued the events of the past few months, but also aware that correcting her would open up a door he wasn't ready or willing to walk through, for both of their sakes.

As he glanced at the phone in his hand, his mood lightened a touch. She'd extended an invitation to him tonight, as the Blur, to call her when he needed to talk.

What was the harm in that? He'd be careful, he wouldn't do anything to lead her on, to confuse her.

But if you miss her like you say you do, then it's gotta be awfully tempting to use your superhero side to get close to her. Especially since that's probably the only way she'd allow it at the moment.

A frustrated growl escaped Clark's throat as Oliver's words from earlier rang through his head.

"It's not the same thing," he muttered to himself, "No kissing. Just talking."

He needed that. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Ollie before that he'd missed Lois. He missed everything about her, what with the distance she'd placed between them.

Would it really be so wrong to have a few harmless conversations with her in the guise of his alter ego?

"Besides, she's the one who offered," he said aloud, the justification continuing. "And who is Oliver Queen to say who I can or can't talk to?" he finished, his voice rising slightly.

Standing up, he tucked the phone into his jacket, nodding his head resolutely, before walking towards the door leading to the interior of the Planet.

"But no kissing," he said quietly, as if reminding himself. "Absolutely no kissing."