Gwen finished curling the last tendril of hair that framed her face, making sure the updo looked good. Her week with Clark had been so much better than it started out. While he worked, she lounged around the pool, or the beach, or the house. Once he was home, she had his full attention. They talked a lot, about everything. Well, everything except for the business behind his business.

She felt she'd known him her entire life.

Clark knocked on her bedroom door.

"Come in!"

"I was getting impatient down there."

He stopped in the bathroom doorway and stared. His eyes trailed down the entire length of the red gown he bought her..

"I'm not late," Gwen said as she checked the time.

"I didn't say you are. I just couldn't wait to see you all dolled up. I knew you'd be gorgeous, but… wow."

Gwen blushed and put away her makeup bag.

"I'm ready," she said.

Clark extended his arm, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

—

The ballroom at the Krypton building was richly decorated, but somehow childlike for the gala to raise money for the Children's Hospital. Clark kept Gwen on his arm as he walked around the room, and chatted. He never introduced the women he brought to these events, and he didn't introduce Gwen. He knew he would have to explain, because, like an idiot, he'd forgotten to ask her if she wanted to be introduced. It was hard to remember to ask someone else's opinion when your opinion was law.

"Kent, how was Spain?"

Clark shook Bruce's hand. "As if you don't know."

"Sorry, pal. It was way too easy to outbid you. You went too high."

"The risk was too high. But enough business. This is for charity."

"Of course."

Bruce eyed Gwen. "Do I get my customary dance with your date?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask her."

Bruce and Gwen both looked at him. Gwen, with a smile, if a nervous one, and Bruce with pure confusion.

"Since when do I have to ask?"

Gwen leaned into Clark. "Do you want me to say yes?"

"I want you all to myself," he whispered, "but it's your choice."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne," she said, "but I came with Mr. Kent, and I think it would be inappropriate for me to dance with someone else."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course."

"Damn, Kent, how much are you paying this one?"

Clark curled his fingers into a fist.

"Not nearly as much as you'd have to," Gwen said.

Clark turned his head to hide his wide eyes and suppress the laugh bubbling up.

"Excuse me," Gwen said as she walked toward the bar.

"Kent—"

"Oh, come on, Bruce. You deserved that."

"Oh, yeah? Is she special or something?"

"Or something."

"Huh. It never works, you know."

"What?"

"What we do? Long term relationships? They don't mix."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make sure my date doesn't want you dead."

"She wouldn't be the first."

Clark laughed, and made his way toward Gwen. He put his hand at the small of her back and stood close to her side.

"Are you ok?"

"Who knew Bruce Wayne was a jerk?"

"He can be. But you…" he chuckled. "That was awesome."

"You're not mad?"

"Not at all. I almost punched him in the mouth for saying that. Your way was much better."

Clark kissed the top of her head, and she sighed.

"Sorry," he said. "I got carried away."

"No. It's ok." She played with the lapel of his tuxedo. "We've gotten closer, haven't we?"

"I think so."

"I may not be in love with you the way you're hoping…"

"Well, it's only been a week."

"But I do like you, Clark. You're definitely a friend, and… I'm ok with friendly affection."

"Well, then…" He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, friend. Shall we dance?"

"Sure."

Clark took her hand and led her to the dance floor. The live band slipped into a slow, sultry song, and Clark shook his head.

"Wait right here," he said. "Don't move an inch."

"Ok?"

At the stage, Clark waved the band leader over.

"Not this," he said.

"But, sir, this is the song you always—"

"Not tonight. Play something slow, but sweet."

"Sweet?"

Clark nodded and went back to Gwen.

"Sorry," he said. The band began again, this time playing La Vie en Rose. "Much better."

"What was that about?"

"They play that song for me for all my first dances."

"Oh, really? Getting your date in the mood?"

"Sort of."

"So, why'd you make them stop?"

"You're special."

"Am I?"

"You haven't figured that out by now?"

"Clark…."

"Shhh. Just dance."

—

Despite his earlier advances, Bruce was decent company while Clark made his speech and took publicity photos.

"Clark usually doesn't care what his dates do as long as they're around when he wants them. I just assumed the same of you. I'm sorry."

"No harm, I guess. I'm sorry if I was rude."

"Not at all. You know, I'm not exactly a fan of Clark, but he's a decent guy."

"Right. What were you two saying about his trip to Spain?"

He smiled. "Clark and I are competitors in some of our areas of business. We used to be at each other's throats over it, but we called a truce a few years ago. Now, it's more of a friendly rivalry. He was working a deal, and I lowballed him. So, I got the deal instead."

"That was his emergency meeting last week?"

"You were around for that?"

"I…"

"You really are different, aren't you?"

"I'm just his date for the night."

"No, I think you're more than that. He keeps looking our way. Probably making sure I'm behaving. He never does that."

"Well, I wouldn't know."

"What's your name?"

"Clark didn't mention it?"

"No, he didn't."

"Huh. That's funny. I thought he did."

"Come on, what's your name?"

"Her name is Gwen," Clark said. He slipped his arm around her waist. "He's ok." The grin slipped from his face as he looked through the crowd. "But he's not." He looked directly into Gwen's eyes. "Go wait for me at the bar. No matter what, don't come to me. I'll come to you. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Go."

—

"Ah! Kent and Wayne. Good."

"Luthor."

"You're dodging my calls, Kent."

"Most people would take the hint, Lex."

"So touchy."

"What do you want?"

"A meeting."

"No."

"I'll make it worth your while. I already have one with Wayne."

Clark sighed and glanced at Bruce, who just shrugged.

"Fine. Call my office and set it up for next week."

"Excellent! You won't be sorry."

He scurried off.

"Something tells me I will."

"Guy gives me the creeps," Bruce said.

"He is a creep."

"I made the meeting to get him off my back, but I don't care what the offer is. I'm not accepting."

"That's what I was thinking."

Clark found Gwen at the bar, and ordered himself a whiskey.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Just a business associate I don't care for. At all."

"And I had to leave, because?"

"I don't want you anywhere near him. The guy is scum and ambitious. A bad combination."

"Are people like him the reason you didn't introduce me to anyone tonight?"

Clark grimaced. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Just a smidge."

"That was a big part of it, but I never introduce my dates. And you were upset about the press being here, so I thought you might want to keep a low profile."

"Well, I trust your judgment with that. You know these people better than I do."

"You trust my judgement?" Clark grinned. "Did you just say you trust me?"

"Obviously, I trust you, or I would never have agreed to any of this," she whispered.

He sat his empty glass back on the bar and pulled Gwen to the side of the room.

"My responsibilities here tonight are done. You wanna get out of here?"

"And do what, Mr. Kent?"

He shrugged. "Movie night?"

"Really?"

"I do have that big theater room that I almost never use."

"Popcorn?"

"What's a movie without popcorn?"

Gwen smiled. "I think a movie night sounds wonderful."

—

Clark sat in the theater room and waited for Gwen. He was grateful to get that bow tie off and slip into a pair of sweatpants. He normally roamed the house in his robe, but it seemed to be an awkward distraction for Gwen at times. He loved that she found him attractive, but he wanted her comfortable while they watched the movie together.

She came in with a blanket and plopped onto the seat next to him. The room had several theater seats, some single, some made for two people. He'd purposely chosen one of the doubles in hopes to just be close to her for the night, and she sat without hesitation.

"Ready?" He said with a smile.

"Popcorn?"

He lifted a large tub from the adjacent seat.

"Then I'm ready," she said. "What are we watching?"

He simply smiled and started the movie. In one of their late night talks, she casually mentioned in a giant run-on sentence that her favorite movie was The Philadelphia Story. When it started, she smiled, then stared at him.

"I love this movie."

"I know."

"How?"

"You sort of mentioned it."

"When? I don't even remember."

"Does it matter?"

"No. I guess not."

He passed her a tub of popcorn, then took a fistful from his own.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He fixed her blanket over her lap, then settled back into his chair for the movie.