"Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again.
The old trick! Only I discern –

Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn."

-Robert Browning

Just as he made his way back into the throng of partying kids though, he felt a hand pull on his arm.

"Lana..." He smiled weakly

She returned the smile happily but motioned over to Chloe, who was heading quietly to get herself a drink.

"I get the feeling that something was just worked out there between you two…"Watching his face she added, "But did she want to hear what you had to say?"

"No." He said heavily, but then sighing he turned towards her fully with a subtle tone of appreciation and understanding "but it had to be said. It was for the best."

They keep their gaze for a second before Lana nodded, accepting the forgiveness Clark had just given her for not choosing him over Whitney. It was a pity that every single thing about him at this moment, from his towering form to his sad eyes looking down at her, made her regret that decision with a aching guilty pang in her heart.

 What was it about this boy?

Swallowing hard, she turned to face back out at the party, and Clark followed suit. The Talon had been transformed anyway from a coffee-house into a place for a party, with music blaring on the other side of the room and teens dancing, and everyone holding the obligatory paper cups of what Lana hoped, if she was to keep her licence, was still just soda. A banner crying "Happy 16th Pete!" hung from the ceiling, hand-made by Clark, Chloe and Lana at different times over the past couple of weeks. Streamers hung, party food was scattered, everyone was dressed up and taking the time to dance and laugh. A table was piled high with different gifts. The lights had been turned even lower while Clark and Chloe had stepped out, and scattered colourful disco lights made faces hard to recognise.

 It was a wonderful, small-town celebration for a friend by friends. They all had the maturity of being in their middle teens, and there was the teasing, flirting atmosphere without the all out wild and risky partying that they would discover in years to come.

 This was home. And it was wonderful.

Lana was obviously thinking along the same lines, for after a minute or two of watching their surroundings she spoke half to herself…

"There's a very important lesson I learnt from my parents' death. I tend to forget it myself from time to time…but nights like this remind me of it…We should really just savour the good moments in life. Too much time is wasted with unanswered questions, secrets, worries… Life's too precious, and too short, to waste on uncertainties. The minute you find what you love, just accept it, and be happy."

She looked up towards him with a smile.

"Do you think that's naïve of me?"

Clark smiled as if he'd just got some private joke. Laughing lightly he shook his head.

"No, Lana, I think that's the smartest thing I've heard anyone say in a long time."

She smiled back widely, amused, before something caught her eye, and she gently turned Clark round to follow her gaze.

Though kids were continuously walking across and blocking their view, they could make out Pete walking slowly up to Chloe on the other side of the room. They watched as the two friends looked at each other, and how, without saying a word, Pete gently took the drink from Chloe's drink and put it on the side, before taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor.

 After a moment of staring into Pete's compassionate eyes with a look of hopeless gratitude and embarrassment at her pathetic emotional state, Chloe gave in and leant her head on his offered shoulder. They danced close as she closed her eyes and thanked God she had such good friends. Pete held her happily and sighed deeply, his breath ruffling her hair.

"You're gonna be alright Chlo'." He said quietly.

After a beat, her somewhat thick voice came back.

"What would I do without you huh?"

He smiled sadly, unseen by her, and held her tighter reassuringly.

"Trust me, that'll never be a possibility."

 After a while he suddenly noticed Clark watching him from across the room.

His friend smiled, nodded, and quietly turned to leave.

Lana didn't quite catch the subtleties of these events, but somehow, watching two best friends together out there, seeing her Talon so successful and full of good feeling, she felt that everyone was somehow content at last.

All except Clark that is. But he'd assured her, before he left, that his happiness lay elsewhere.

"Well, go find it Clark Kent – man of mystery…" she'd said, watching with those deep dark eyes. "The night's still young."

He'd smiled that secret smile.

And watching him go she felt that sorrowful jealousy again, for whoever got to make him happy tonight.

~ ~ ~

 Jonathan tapped his fingers absent-mindedly on the steering wheel as he made his way through town. He'd just come from the farm of a friend who might have been able to make him a good deal on some farm equipment. Unfortunately, even a friend's generous price wasn't low enough for them right now. He sighed.

  They'd had money troubles before of course, before they'd had Clark and even when he was younger there'd been a few very tight months at some point. But these days it all seemed never-ending. They could just never make it so they were quite secure enough…especially when surprises seemed increasingly round the corner these days. He gritted his jaw as he thought in anger about that contamination to their land and livestock….with that in its history, how could they ever expect to sell the farm if their money troubles called for it?

 He shook his head to chase those thoughts away, and as he drove slowly down into the centre of town he looked around at this place that he'd call home till his dying day.  Sure, having to sell up was a farmer's worst nightmare, but there was something worse for a father:  leaving a legacy of debt to his only son.

   Oh he knew that more and more kids around here were flying the nest the second they graduated, and he would never want Clark to feel like he was forced into a life he didn't want. Just look at that poor kid Whitney, thinking he'd be tied down to his old man's store for the rest of his days. No, Clark was a special kid, and he needed to see the world just as he and Martha had in their youth.  But in his heart of hearts Jonathan couldn't help but want Clark to come back here, just as he himself did after college, and some day take over the farm just as he had from his father before him. And why shouldn't he? Sure, Clark was gifted and special, but the boy loved this life out in the country. Trying to see Clark living in some apartment in the city, Jonathan almost laughed aloud. His son was faster, and stronger than anyone lese on this planet. What good would those skills be to him in a mundane 9 to 5 office job? What was he going to do, become a really fast typist?

  No, someone like Clark belonged out here, connected to the real world, and the place that fate had sent him to. He was their miracle child. His mother was devoted to him, and he..well, he had the son he'd only ever dreamed of.

 But of course, things had been trying the last year…and they only seemed to be getting worse. Was this behaviour lately some sort of delayed anger at their keeping the truth from him for all those years? Or was he, as Martha said, just growing up? That was unfortunately an explanation that didn't give him too much comfort. After all, when he was a kid these had been the years that things had really started to get strained between him and his father.

 Jonathan Kent was a good, proud man, but when it came to that boy he felt more and more helpless to understand what was going on in his head…Take this week for instance: they'd barely sat down to two meals together, and there'd certainly been no father-son heart-to-hearts. He used to be able to talk to his son about any of his problems, hell, even about girls. And now…?

  And now Clark appeared in his view for a fleeting instance. He was sure it had been his son turning down that road out of town. Jonathan slowed down, but he'd already missed the turning. The streets were pretty much empty, and stopping the truck and easing it into reverse, he moved slowly back, curious. Ready to wind down the window and call out to his son, he watched as before his eyes Clark shot off in a blur of speed along the road into darkness, without so much as checking to see if anyone was watching.

 Unable to stop himself swearing, Jonathan quickly glanced around, but no one else on the main street could have seen it. Backing the truck up a bit more to make room for the turn, he swung the wheel and took the left turning to follow. Where the hell was Clark rushing off to…alone ,and at this time of night?

 As he drove along, familiar enogh with the hazards of roads round here to at least keep within the speed limit, he knew that there was no way he'd catch sight of Clark now unless he slowed down.  His mind raced though, wondering what danger his son might be out to stop now. Shouldn't he be at Pete's birthday party tonight? But he was damn sure that even if his eyes had deceived him at that first glance, there sure couldn't be another tall dark-haired boy in Smallville who could move like that, and now vanish without a trace…

 He tried to think of what was out in this direction, as he quickly left the town behind and came out into open fields. There was the Jacobs Farm, and if he turned off a few miles off there was the old Whiting place…but he knew in his gut that if there was trouble out this way tonight it wasn't going to be at either of those places. No, it would be at the other local residence around here. Lex Luthor's mansion.

 Goddamit, what trouble was his son going to have to bail that arrogant kid out of now?

 He pulled up after what seemed an achingly long time, to the grand whimsy of the Luthor's that was this awful-looking 'ancestral home'. He hated coming here – the entire place was a testimony of the stupid things people do with too much time and other people's money on their hands. He got out of the truck, and started up the steps to the front door, speeding up further when he saw it lying slightly ajar.

 He pushed it open, tentatively at first, all too aware that he hadn't actually seen Clark come here, and not seeing any visible sign of explosions, kidnappers, frozen boys, or anyone paranoid and psychotic on supposedly long-extinct plants.

 "Hello?" he called out into the empty hall, veiled in shadow.

  Almost at the same time though he heard a noise, a brief small cry of pain, followed by a voice muttering something in low tones. He rushed towards the door of the study, again not fully shut, and went in, calling for his son in concern.

   What he saw made him stop in his tracks. Clark was helping a young man painfully to his feet, supporting him with what Jonathon knew to be his superhuman strength, but matched with great gentleness. What he couldn't believe was that the weak, dazed looking boy he held, with a face bloodied and swollen was actually Lex Luthor.

 His eyes took in Lex's injuries, how he clutched his arm around his ribs in pain; the disarrayed desk and broken computer monitor lying smashed on the floor; his son's eyes looking back at him in shock…eyes that were red from crying.

 "My God Clark" he said. "What happened here?"

TBC.