A/N: Next section. Sorry for how long it has taken me to update. Writing for this fandom lately has been a real bear. But I'm feeling the power of this story again, so I hope this next update will leads to the end very soon. Because the story is close. Thanks again for all of your patience.

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Whether he liked it or not, Clark knew Chloe was right. Hiccups in their communication caused far more problems in their relationship than he wanted to admit, and he certainly didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning without Chloe beside him. Without the proper armor of love and devotion set into place, anything in this world could stop their happiness. He knew that now.

Clark closed his eyes and set his head on her chest, just under her chin and along her right breast. He slid his right hand across her smooth stomach, then tightened his arm around her as he spoke.

"Okay," he conceded gently. "You're right. We should clear the air completely before we try to move past this."

"No hiding skeletons," she added, gliding her hand across the arm encircling her. She placed a kiss to his forehead. "Especially those named Lana."

"Or Jimmy."

After a short pause, Chloe looked down to him with slight surprise. "Jimmy?"

Clark nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

"I thought you always liked Jimmy."

"Sometimes I did …" he agreed, then added simply, " … and sometimes I didn't."

Chloe smiled softly to herself, fully aware she was hearing what she had suspected all along - jealousy. His admission made their forthcoming conversation even more important, as all the feelings she had previously discovered between them throughout their years together, and apart for that matter, suddenly doubled in value. When Clark kissed her underneath the oak tree Chloe knew she had sensed more in his lips than just nostalgic love. He kissed her that day not only to relinquish what they had lost, but also to erase every moment he was forced to watch from a distance while someone else gave her what he had wanted to all along.

Even earlier tonight, Clark hinted at his dislike of that particular year in their lives, the year between the end of their affair and their separation. Only now did Chloe realize how much he really hated it, and all the reasons why. Maybe his jealously wasn't sexual in nature at all. Maybe he really did love her, like she always wanted.

Far back in her mind, Chloe remembered something her father always told her about men. Mostly, their discussions always turned into warnings about meeting the wrong guy. Watch where you go, and always keep your drink close to you. Never be alone with someone you don't know. But then, towards the end of these father-daughter lectures about love and sex, he usually explained how she would know when she met the right one.

If you think of each other constantly, if you would risk everything you are to be with them. And if you are as mad as hell when they're flirting with someone else.

Well, there was only one way to find out for sure. Having sex only answered part of their questions, leaving far too many concerns in their relationship still unanswered.

They really did need that talk.

Knowing what was best for them, Chloe slowly disengaged herself from his embrace. She tried to slip out of the bed to stand, but Clark grabbed her arm insistently.

"I thought you wanted to talk?" he asked.

Turning to him, she replied with a soft smile, "I do." She gently pushed his hand off her arm, but kept it enclosed in her own. "But we both know how easily we can succumb to sinful temptation."

Clark groaned when she slipped out of the bed completely, then walked closer to the door. As she turned to look at him, he groaned a little more, sensing their morning in bed would indeed be cut short. Her eyes always told him everything.

Lifting himself up on his elbow, he reasoned softly, "I think we're strong enough to do it here."

Chloe smirked. "Really? We only perform two things when we're in bed together, and talking has never been one of them."

Clark sighed heavily in retreat, but did not move immediately. Instead he sat up and leaned back against the headboard, and for the next several minutes he watched Chloe's elegant, naked form move around his room. By her glances to the floor, she was clearly trying to find something appropriate to cover herself with before they retreated to another part of the house. Her top from yesterday, and maybe her underwear, would've been enough. She was simply with Clark the morning after sex, and the time for discretion had long since passed.

But with the strange disappearance of her entire wardrobe from the night before, she decided that one of his blue, button down, short-sleeve shirts would have to do for now. Because the shirt was Clark's, it was large enough to go down to her thighs, effectively covering most of her intimate areas.

Just as Chloe slipped it over her shoulders, she glanced over and realized Clark still hadn't moved, and was staring at her intently.

"What? What are you staring at, Kent?"

Many things … shapely legs, curvy hips, smooth stomach, and those beautiful, round breasts …

"You," he finally whispered, after a moment. "Only you."

She blushed noticeably, but quickly turned and moved towards the door to hide her face. On the way, she picked up his jeans, and when she turned to look at him once more, the flush now gone from her cheeks, she threw them on the bed next to him.

"Put your pants on, sweetheart," she laughed, giving him a wink. "I promise to make the best coffee you've ever had."

Clark grabbed his jeans in surrender, but she was through the door and down the stairs before he had the chance to give her his own naked side show.

The sun was finally beginning to slip over the distant hills, shining light and warmth on the earth below. The morning melody of the rooster, the cows, and the birds began to filter into Clark's open window, reminding him of the new day, of the new future they awaited him downstairs. Six years of waiting could be washed away completely in the next few moments, and the exhilaration finally urged his waking body to life.

Standing from the bed, Clark slipped his jeans on and eagerly followed the aroma of the freshly brewing coffee. He dropped down the stairs with ease, but stopped at the final step when he saw Chloe, standing half naked in the same kitchen his mom cooked her award-winning pies. With a little smile, he watched her in silence for the second time this morning, but because her attention was entirely on her task, she had no idea he was there. Also, her current search was for coffee mugs and silverware hidden in cupboards rather than underwear lost in the abyss of his bedroom floor.

Sunlight from the kitchen window glimmered through the blue shirt she wore, giving him an amazingly outline of her incredible body hiding deliciously underneath. He truly couldn't remember the last time he had seen such a beautiful woman.

He almost lost his balance when she reached up on her tiptoes in order to reach a bowl on the top shelf. The movement caused her oversized shirt to ride up her back, enabling him to capture a perfect view of her naked backside. It took all his will not to walk up behind her and squeeze it.

Chloe must've heard something, either his breathing or his footstep when he awkwardly descended the last step, because she finally turned and noticed him.

Smiling, she lifted a mug to him. "Still a double cream man?"

Clark almost choked on his own spit.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, licking his lips nervously. Why his throat had suddenly dried up, he had no clue.

Chloe set a few handfuls of blueberries into the same bowl she retrieved from the cupboards. Along with the fruit, she was also able to find a few left over muffins, perceivably from the morning before due to their sustained freshness.

Placing the assorted muffins on a plate, she replied, "I know this isn't your usual five-star, home cooked breakfast from Mom, but my subscription to the cooking channel expired on my first day at the Planet years ago."

Clark stepped closer, yet spoke as if he hadn't heard a word she had said.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come home."

Chloe poured their coffee, then handed him his mug. "It's okay. I'm pretty used to an absent Clark."

"Well, I want to change that. I don't want you to get used to me not being here ever again."

If she had been watching one of the dozen or so chick flicks she had in her DVD collection, Chloe probably would've started crying at this point. However, from the previous experiences she's had with Clark, she knew better than to let her emotions cloud her judgment.

She loved his words, maybe even believed them. But the doubt she's carried since that morning after their first night together remained inside of her, stronger now that she reinstituted their conversation to a place separate from their bed. For anything to happen between them, she needed more than just words and promises. Too often they failed her.

What she really needed was his commitment, to her and to whatever this thing was between them. She also needed his heart, completely and without the worry of whether she was sharing it with someone else.

Handing him the bowl of blueberries, she replied softly, "How about we take this one step at a time, uh, tiger?"

Clark nodded as he took the bowl, knowing it was best for both of them to take this slow. Rushing their relationship because he felt terrible for the six misspent years in their past was not the solution, even though his heart thought it was.

Chloe grabbed the plate of muffins, then gestured for the two of them to retire to the living room. She considered utilizing the blanket on the back of the couch and spreading it out on the floor as kind of a picnic, but decided against it when she realized how steamy the morning had become. When she first came downstairs the temperature had just spiked past seventy. However, judging by the perspiration that had formed on her neck in the last twenty minutes, she was sure it had risen far higher. Sitting on the floor in this rising heat seemed like suicide, because it was likely Clark would take the opportunity to make it more so. Considering their track record with living room floors, it was certain their conversation would lead straight to sex.

But then the couch wasn't a much better choice, either. She did remember their history with couches, especially since this entire affair started on one.

Stifling heat or not, outside on the porch swing sounded perfect.

"I liked the front porch from last night. Let's go there again."

Clark shrugged. "Okay, sure. There might be more of a breeze outside anyway," he agreed, then added in the next breath, "But why don't we get dressed instead? I know a great place we can go."

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more to come...