Chapter Fourteen

A beautifully manicured woman floated down the airplane aisle and took her very comfortably apportioned seat in first class.

The young woman relaxed into the comfy upholstery and secured her seat belt as a greeting from the plane's captain, in French and then in English, came over the speaker system.

"… Welcome aboard Air France's Flight 072, non-stop from Paris to New York…."

The captain's message droned on in its usual way, including information on the weather, air temperature, approximate flying time and the like, but the woman quickly tuned it all out, turning to attract the attention of male flight attendant standing close by.

She was used to men fawning all over her and the attendant didn't disappoint. He took her order, in a suitably solicitous fashion, and returned a few short minutes later to place a steaming cup of coffee with milk on to the table at her side, and the latest edition of the French newspaper, Le Mode.

"Merci," she thanked, demurely.

After a short delay on the tarmac the long-haul flight eventually got underway. As the plane climbed to its optimum altitude the brunette turned to the international section of the French daily newspaper, losing herself to the implications of a particular on-going news story.

The story that had peaked her interest spoke of a city's missing hero and how that city had fallen into growing chaos. Worry and concern marred the woman's delicate, elfin features as she lowered the paper.

"May I get you another drink or something else, Miss Lang?" the flight attendant, who'd previously seen to her needs, asked.

Lana Lang barely acknowledged the question, her mind lost to memories of long ago and to the last time she'd seen Clark Kent….

February 2010 – four years and five months ago

He was easy to spot, even when sitting down; that large imposing frame, the wonderful way he filled a suit, his thick, dark hair, the strong set of his jaw, his handsome face and that easy, welcoming smile.

A smile I'd almost forgotten, it had been so long since I'd seen it, even before we broke up… before… I broke up with him.

Clark was smiling and trading words with a woman sitting across the desk from him. And it took me a few moments to recognise that the female in question was Chloe's cousin, Lois Lane.

Her hair was a lot darker than I remembered; it was now a deep chestnut brown, and I do recall wondering, years ago, if she dyed her hair. The darker look suited her. She seemed more mature now; a little older too, perhaps, dressed as she was, in what appeared to be business suit with a colour-contrasting blouse.

She'd certainly come a long way since her days serving coffee at the Talon.

I guess we all had.

Clark looked confident and happy in the bustling surroundings of the basement newsroom. He and Lois were deep in conversation, although from where I stood it sounded like they were arguing.

I hesitated in my approach, wondering if this was really what I wanted to do.

I'd probably hurt him when I left, but it was for his own good, so that he could be free to serve a world that needed him.

Having had the previous year to think about what I'd done, I concluded that all I'd really needed was time; some space to sort out what a future with an alien with super-powers could mean for me.

But I felt ready, now, to take that next step, after all, Clark and I shared a long history together and I couldn't just throw all that away.

I'd always wanted some way to feel equal to him, but without super powers perhaps I could act as his guiding light for good and guide him to greatness.

Clark would at last be the man I'd always wanted. I would have an unshakable confidence in him, knowing that there would be no more secrets between us, no more lies. He would be an open book to me, and our relationship would bloom like a rose garden in the spring, if he'd have me.

And I was sure he would have me, after all, wasn't I the girl he's been in love with since the fourth grade?

My continued movement towards his desk must have alerted him, because his eyes caught mine, and I watched as the words he was speaking trailed off to silence as he recognised me.

I couldn't help the little pang of hurt that rose in my chest as the broad smile he'd been sporting moments before fell from his face and he pursed his lips in agitation. He cast a quick but guilty look in Lois' direction, before standing to offer me a tight smile that kept his teeth hidden.

"Smallville?"

Lois swivelled around in her chair, clearly concerned at Clark's distracted glance and abrupt change in demeanour. Her eyes grew wide when she saw me standing not two feet away from her. She didn't try to hide her grimace of surprise.

"Lois … Clark," I awkwardly greeted them.

Clark looked dumbstruck, while Lois didn't look happy to see me at all.

"You've got a nerve," she spat out with a shake of her head.

I stared back at Lois, not understanding her hostile tone.

Through the years that I'd known her one thing was always abundantly clear: Lois had never understood the complexity of my relationship with Clark.

I recalled she'd been a good ear from time to time, but there always seemed to be a brusque air of hostility about her. It was as if she had no time for issues that required serious thought--for her it was simply all black, or all white.

And I'd always hated that Clark let her call him by that ridiculous nickname, like she had some sort of claim to him. I couldn't believe he still encouraged it.

Her insult to me seemed to galvanise Clark into action, because he called her name and they shared a look. Some type of wordless understanding passed between the two of them, and saying nothing, Lois picked up her bag and left us to what privacy can be had in the middle of a busy newsroom.

"Hi," I tried again, a little wistful this time.

"Lana." Clark said my name like he was waking from a dream.

"I know it's been a while, but I was hoping you'd be happy to see me?" I hedged, not sure about the reaction he was giving me.

"What are you doing here?" He had the decency to blush, the moment the question fell from his lips.

I reached for his hand, to try and placate him, but he stepped back, flinching, as if he didn't trust me.

"Clark, you have to know why I'm here," I began gently. How could he not know? "I still love you. I know it must have hurt when I left, but I thought I was doing to right thing--setting you free. The trouble is--and I guess I learned the hard way--is that I've been miserable without you. There was so much left unfinished between us."

"Lana…"

I could see Clark was faltering, his emotions getting the better of him, as usual, but I pressed on, needing him to know it all: to know that I was ready.

"I can be whatever you need me to be this time, Clark. I won't run a way from us. I already know everything about you." I took another step towards him. "There'll be no secrets," I whispered, knowing he'd get my meaning. "There won't be anymore need for lies."

"Lana--"

It was as if he didn't know what to say, as he gazed down at me. His lips twisted a little and he stepped forward to finally touch me. Taking a hold of my arm he gently ushered me away from the prying eyes of his work colleagues and across the basement floor to a secluded alcove lined by a bank of empty phone booths.

We faced each other in the semi-darkness of the booth's shadow. My eyes drank in the sight of him so close, and I couldn't stop my hand as it slid up against his suit jacket and travelled north against his strong, sculpted torso.

One of Clark's large hands moved over my own, stopping its ascent and pulling it away from his chest to let it rest gently between both of his.

He stared into my eyes for a few moments, as if he was looking for something specific within my expression. I gazed back into his and realised for the first time, that I had no idea what he was thinking.

"Lana, when you left a year ago," he began, "I admit, I was devastated. I didn't know if I'd ever get over you, or…." Clark shook his head and smiled wistfully. "Let's just say that for a while I thought… a life of solitude would be the best thing for me."

"Oh, Clark, no."

"It didn't last," he said, interrupting me with a smile. The first genuine smile he'd offered me since I'd arrived at his desk.

"Oh?"

"I started working here, at the Planet, with Lois and it gave me a focus; learning the ropes, chasing stories, helping people.

"It didn't make me forget you, Lana, but I learned to move on," he said, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Being here," he went on, lowering his voice to a soft whisper, "is the perfect place to know when I'm needed; the perfect cover. Being a reporter allows me that freedom to …" he made a shimmying motion with his hand. "Get away and help people, without having to answer too many questions."

I doubted that.

"What about Lois?" I asked incredulously. "Doesn't she ever get suspicious? You work across from her, right? And I can't imagine her not badgering you about your every disappearance."

Clark gave me a small knowing smile, and I had to admit, he certainly seemed more confident and self-assured than I remembered him ever being.

"Lois knows," he supplied with a broad grin.

Oh, God. "Clark, how could you be so careless? How could you let her discover your secret?"

"She didn't really discover it," he said slowly. "I told her."

"You told her?" I admit I was a little numb at the news. "Aren't you worried she'll let it slip? I've read some of her stories for the Planet and she's all about the sensational headlines, Clark. You can't trust her. She'll just be waiting for the moment when a headline about you will suit her needs."

"Lois isn't like that," he said firmly, fixing me with a cold stare. "And telling her turned out to be one of the easiest things I've ever done."

I shook my head in denial; I didn't understand any of it.

"Easy?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, that smile emerging once more. "It's different with Lois. She gets me. She trusts me … all of me," he trailed off wistfully, smiling softly, as if….

--As if at the thought of her.

I felt numb. I really didn't know this Clark at all.

"For the first time in my life, I'm right where I want to be, doing something that's making a difference, and I love it," he continued.

"Oh, my God," I breathed. "You and Lois?" I asked, though I already had the answer.

He shrugged; a habit that was quickly becoming an annoyance. "We haven't exactly formally declared anything yet, but I'm sort of hoping … I think she feels the same way about me."

Unshed tears stung my eyes at his words and at his expression. He wasn't even seeing me now and I'd never felt so rejected.

"You didn't really expect me to be the same guy you walked away from, months ago, did you?" he shrugged innocently. "Look, I'll always love you, Lana," he went on while I fisted my hands tightly in an effort not show him my hurt. "But everything about my life has moved on now, and I don't want to change that. I'm having too much fun."

Fun. With Lois.

My God.

Here, in the basement of a musty old newspaper office I was being hit in the face with a truth. And maybe it was a truth I'd always known, but had allowed myself to be fooled by. After all, I couldn't count the number of times Clark and I had broken up, only to drift back to each other, regardless of the circumstances, and regardless of the hurt we'd been feeling or caused each other.

But it stung me now, and I felt hollow; Clark was no longer mine.

I tried to maintain my dignity while he talked inanely about the friendship he'd always feel for me and how I would always be able to count on him. It didn't mean too much to me, right now.

On the bright side, at least I was financially capable; the money I'd siphoned from Lex (even more than he'd realised) would last a good while if I were careful. I could start again somewhere, anywhere. There was certainly nothing else for me here.

So I smiled up at him, stood on my tiptoes, kissed his cheek, wished him well and left.

As I made my way up the stairs, on my way out of the Daily Planet's basement, I wondered if Lois really knew what she was letting herself in for: the heartaches, the danger and the isolation of being so close to someone so different.

Surely she'd never have the patience for all of the complexities that came with knowing Clark's secret. And she wasn't particularly sensitive when it came to considering other people's emotions, either.

Clark was too gentle for her, and she'd never be able to deal with Clark's empathy for complete strangers—she'd be too busy rampaging and bulldozing her way through people to even notice the damage she'd be causing.

As I exited the building and walked out into the bright Midday sunlight, the thought of them and what they faced brought me an unexpected chuckle and a smile.

I gave them twelve months, tops.

… To be continued …

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Annie