Gwen rolled up the car's partition.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked.

"We need to have an honest conversation."

"About?"

"What you do."

"You know I can't discuss that with you."

"I'm not looking for details of how you operate. I need to know how you fit into that life. Why you're in it. If Krypton is so successful, why do you need to be involved in anything else?"

Clark loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

"I knew we'd have to talk about this eventually. I was hoping you'd care for me more than you do now, but…"

"I do care about you, Clark. That's why I need to know."

He nodded. "I came to New York right out of high school. Struggled to make ends meet, but really didn't want to go back home to work on a farm. I got a job, like an errand boy, that paid ridiculously well. Never thought twice about why it paid so much. I just delivered things and picked things up."

"You never questioned?"

"Not once. I was young. It was good money. Then the boss, Jorel, crossed my path on his way to his limo. I was headed inside, and I saw a man with a gun. I jumped in front of him, and took a bullet." He slapped his hand over his left side. "Right here."

"And that didn't make you think?"

"He offered me a position as his personal bodyguard. More money."

"Clark…" she shook her head.

"A few years passed, and he said I had potential. He didn't have any kids of his own, so he wanted to pass the business onto me. All of it. Publicly, I became the Vice President of Krypton. Outside of that, I became his enforcer."

"Enforcer?"

"I got my hands dirty so he didn't have to. Now, that gave me pause."

"Thank God."

"But I was already in so deep, and it's not an easy life to walk away from when people think you can rat them out. So, I accepted. I struggled at first. I shook for days after the first time I…" He looked up at Gwen. "Are you sure you want to know this stuff?"

"I need to."

He stared straight ahead at the darkened partition. "Sometimes people betrayed Jorel, and he had to send a message. I was the message."

"How many people did you…"

"Kill?"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"I stopped counting. The first few… I still see their faces sometimes. It was traumatic. But I realized that the more I focused on them, the more I kept count and remembered each person's name… if I'd kept going like that I would have taken my own life." Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "When Jorel died, I got it all. I didn't want exactly what he had. I wanted to be more legit. I took his shipping company, which was already decent, and turned it into a Forbes-worthy company. But it's still hard to get out of the other business completely. So, I kept some of it going. Mostly weapons and smuggled items. I don't traffic drugs like Jorel did, and I absolutely refuse the traffic people."

"So, you're not as involved as you once were. I'm guessing you have your own enforcer now?"

"No. I didn't want to put that on anyone else. I get my own hands dirty."

"You still ki—"

"It's been a long time. I would have to really be pushed. I don't like that side of what I do."

"Then quit."

"It's not that simple."

Gwen leaned her head back against the seat.

"Well, I have a lot to think about."

"I've trusted you with this, Gwen."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Wouldn't want to burden your conscience with my death."

"I guess I deserve that."

"Would you do it yourself?"

"What?"

"If it were me you had to make a lesson of? Would you kill me yourself?"

"Stop it."

"You're your own enforcer, right?" She sat up. "Would you do it?"

"Shut up!"

Gwen jumped and covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I would never hurt you Gwen. You could hand me over to the cops, take down everything I've built…" he took her face in his hands. "I would die before I hurt you. If you never believe me about anything else, please believe that."

"I can't make you fit," she said. "Everything about you is a contradiction."

"Not when it comes to you." He brushed his thumb over her cheek, then pulled back. "The only thing I've looked forward to the past few years are my trips to the hospital. Those kids… they're something special. That's changed. Now, I look forward to coming home at night. Knowing you're there, and that I can spend time with you… I haven't used my apartment at the office once since you moved in."

"And you used to stay there a lot?"

"A lot."

She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm so confused." She wiped a tear from her eye. "A part of me sees this kind, amazing guy, but then you tell me you… you—"

Clark pulled her into his arms. "Just see me. That other guy isn't me."

"But it is you, Clark. You may not like that part of you, but you're the one doing it."

Clark took a deep breath and held her tighter. There was nothing he could say. She was right. He thought the hospital visit would let her see what he really cared about, but it seemed to only highlight the other side of him by contrast.

He'd been so pleased at the photoshoot. She called his place home. Twice. She was comfortable with him. If only she could get past the other stuff. Or maybe this would never work. Maybe she was too good a person for him.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Gwen."

"Me, too."

—

Gwen dressed and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Clark was there, almost finished, draining the last of his coffee.

"You usually wait for me," she said.

"Sorry. I have an early day."

"Ok. But I have a favor to ask."

Clark placed his cup in the sink and stared at it.

"I can arrange it," he said.

"You don't even know what it is."

He leaned back against the sink, arms folded.

"You want to go home."

"I… no. That's not it. Why would you think that?"

"What you said in the car yesterday."

"Clark, I can't pretend I didn't mean what I said, but I don't want to leave."

"Really?"

"No. Maybe I'm stupid, but I do care about you. I know there's a good guy in there. I don't want to lose him."

Clark smiled. "So, what's the favor?"

"Could you get me on as a volunteer at the Children's Hospital?"

"You want to volunteer?"

"I need something to do, and those kids… they need people to help make their days better while they fight. I want to help."

"I can absolutely do that."

"Thanks. I'll let you get to work."

"I'll see you when I get home?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

—

Three Months Later

Clark scanned Luthor's list. With every shipment, the item list grew longer. Luthor drummed his fingers on the table as Clark reviewed it. It was a common nervous habit of his, but it seemed worse today. Clark ignored it until he reached an item toward the end of the list.

"What is this?"

He slid the paper back to Luthor and pointed.

"Just a few people who need to travel under the radar."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't transport people."

"They just need safe—"

"No. This is not negotiable. Either remove them from your shipment, or there's no deal."

"Kent, I can't take them off."

"Then no deal." He stood from the conference table. "Zod will see you out."

"Kent, wait—"

"Unless your next words are 'I'll take them off,' save your breath."

Luthor stared at Clark as he stood, then Zod followed him out of the room.

"Perry, I need about half an hour alone."

"Sure thing."

Clark told Lois to hold his calls until further notice. He needed to think. Luthor wasn't big enough to be untouchable. Not yet. Clark could stop that shipment, but it would violate every underground code he was supposed to go by. Cops would be involved.

Arguing from his office lobby pulled him from his thoughts. He flung the door open.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

"Sir," Lois said, "I've tried to send him away—"

"I need to talk to you, Kent."

He'd have to speak with Zod about how Luthor got back to his office.

"Inside. Now."

Clark let the door slam, then stood behind his desk.

"What do you want?"

"I'll take them off."

"Why the sudden change?"

"There are things in this shipment that can't be delayed. The people can wait."

"I don't transport people, Luthor. Ever. Under any circumstances. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

After a moment, he called Perry, and told Lois to let him in when he arrived.

"Perry will draw up the contract. As a measure of good faith for removing the people, I'll go down to thirty percent."

"Thank you, Kent."

"Don't ever try to use me for that purpose again."

"Understood."

—

Clark sat at the kitchen island with his head in hands. Everything about Luthor gave him a headache.

"Bad day?"

Clark let his head loll forward as Gwen dug her thumbs into his shoulders.

"God, that feels good."

"You looked like you could use it. You're so tense."

"It wasn't really a bad day. Just someone who's hard to deal with."

"Won't compromise?"

"No, there's just something about him I don't like. Personality clash, I guess."

"Well, would you like some good news?"

Clark patted the chair next to his. "Please."

Gwen didn't sit. She stood next to him with a wide grin. "Lucy is in remission."

Clark jumped to his feet. "Is she really?"

Gwen nodded, and Clark pulled her into a hug so tight that he lifted her from the ground.

"Is she still at the hospital?"

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"What?"

"I've been there since that little girl got admitted. I want to share the joy with her now." He cupped her face. "I'm so happy right now I could kiss you senseless. If you'd let me."

"Clark…"

"I know. So, let's go see Lucy instead."