Lana's POV

"I don't know, Chloe…it's been three days and he still hasn't asked me." I sink into the plush couch that The Torch has to offer. Chloe hands me a coffee with an expression of sympathy.

"Maybe he's just working up the courage to ask you," Chloe suggests, shrugging. "You never know; he could ask you this afternoon."

I laugh under my breath. "No…It's okay. I guess I'll just sit this one out. I mean, it's only the one night out of your high school career that is the most memorable besides graduation." I guess that my countenance visibly saddens since Chloe rushes to my side and pats my back.

"Aww…If you want, I can drop some hints to Clark today about it…."

I shake my head. "No, it's okay. I have the receipts to my dress and shoes…I can still return them…." I trail off, drowning in self pity.

I don't blame Clark for his missing enthusiasm for prom. I don't even think the poor guy knows that prom is tomorrow night. The past couple of days, although he's been attending school and getting the farm work done, it's almost as if he's not really there. His body is there, but his mind isn't. I've dropped by the farm after school just to keep him company and sometimes cook him dinner, but we don't end up saying much. In spite of this, I know that he appreciates my frequent visits and showering of food. I see it in his eyes even if he doesn't smile much anymore.

Martha Kent, don't get me wrong, is a wonderful mother, but she's only stopped by the farm once during the past three days and that was only to get Jonathon some more books. I know that she's worried about her husband, we are all, but I wish that she could comfort Clark a bit more. When I mentioned this to her, she simply smiled and shook her head. I remember her exact words, "Oh, sweetie, Clark doesn't need me. He already has you."

I suppose that she meant it as a compliment, but I still had some doubts about her words until last night. I was putting my many years of living without a cook in the household to use by preparing spaghetti for Clark and me when I told him about our conversation.

Once I got to the part about my doubts about Martha's comment, Clark responded, "As much as I miss my mom, Lana, she's right. I don't know what I would have done without you these past three days. I know that I haven't exactly shown it lately, but I love you and I'm glad that you're here with me."

His comment made me blush and after enjoying a candle light dinner—Clark's idea, despite my protests—we made out for the first time in the past three days. I suppose that one could call us an item of sorts.

"You know, I'm a little surprised that he hasn't asked me yet considering that we had a nice time last night," I tell Chloe, figuring the rim of my mug.

She rubs my back and sits on the end of the couch next to me. "Well, you know how guys are, Lana."

The bell rings right then, signaling a ten minute warning. I sigh and get from the couch, handing my cup to Chloe.

"Well, we'd better head off to Shepard's class. I hear that he's scheduled another pop quiz," I inform her, slinging my bag over my shoulder and grabbing my history book.

"Lana, you haven't tried dropping any hints about prom to Clark, have you?" Chloe inquires, also grabbing her purse and books.

"Believe me, I've tried," I say, chuckling. "Clark's wonderful and all, but sometimes I wished he weren't so dense."

Both Chloe and I start giggling at that. I wait for her outside of the office as she locks up.

"No matter how gorgeous or sweet they are, Lana, just remember that guys will be guys—meaning that they are prone to their clueless moments and idiotic performances," Chloe professes as we head off to class on the first floor. "But hey, you gotta give Clark credit for the candlelight dinner last night though."

I simply laugh and nod, allowing Chloe to lecture me about the behavioral and social skill of men. I can tell that she's trying her best to lift my spirits about prom.

Once we hit a lull in the conversation, I jump at the opportunity to bring up prom again.

"So, Chloe, you never got around to telling me who you were going with to prom," I announce, enjoying watching her squirm.

"Well…you know Tim Burton, right? He's in our Lit. class?"

"Uh-huh."

"He asked me to prom on Monday," Chloe confesses quietly, as if her words would somehow wound me.

"That's great, Chloe!" I surprise her by hugging her.

"Yeah, it is," Chloe says, realizing that I'm genuinely happy for her. "Did you know that Tim sometimes does freelances for The Torch? And he's up for valedictorian?"

"Really? No, I didn't know that." We round a corner and Chloe continues telling me more about him.

Although I truly am happy for her, a part of me can't help but notice a twinge of sadness. I've spent the past four years dreaming about my prom night and now that it's finally arrived, I'm going to be stuck at home, flipping through the channels, and finishing off a carton of ice cream.

Clark's POV

"I'll see you both later." I rise from the chair to the right of the bed and hug both Mom and Dad. Dad is still in the intensive care unit despite his slight improvement yesterday. But today, it seems as if all the improvement from the previous days and nights have vanished and Dad is now back to the beginning again. He wheezes every now and then and his heart rate is plummeting. Dr. O'Brien, his cardiologist, is flying in from Metropolis again to determine whether or not he should be moved to another hospital in Metropolis for further treatment. If Dad does get transferred, Mom would have to pack a bag for herself and for Dad in order to stay in Metropolis with him.

For me, it won't be much of a problem to still visit him. It takes only a matter of minutes to make it to Metropolis with my super speed. But I'm sure that Dad would rather stay in Smallville; the closer to home, the better.

As for the cause of all this…I'm still waiting for word from Chloe about the sample of fertilizer I gave her to analyze. I know that I'm potentially jeopardizing her health by exposing her to it, but I need to know what is in that stuff. Somehow, if I find out what it's composed of, maybe there's a way that it could help my dad. I know that if I went directly up to Lex and demanded him to tell me what he made the fertilizer out of, he'd never tell me. Thus, the reason for Chloe's help. The last time I talked to her, she informed me that she would have results from her insider at LexCorp around tomorrow night.

"Bye, sweetie." Mom's voice jerks me out of my reverie and I exit the room. After checking that the hallway was indeed empty, I zip off to school for my afternoon classes.

Mom phoned in today for me and excused me from my morning classes so that I could spend the morning with my parents at the hospital. If it weren't for the fact that Dad could get transferred tonight to Metropolis, she wouldn't have called in.

I arrive at the high school a couple of seconds later and make my way to The Torch, knowing that's where Chloe and Lana would be.

I push open the door and to my surprise and disappointment, only find Chloe there, typing steadily away on the computer, no doubt finishing up one of her deadlines.

"Clark, nice of you to drop by," Chloe greets without bothering to look up from her word processing program.

"Hey, Chloe."

"I hate to disappoint you, but Lana isn't here, as you can see."

I step inside and take a seat next to her. "That's fine. I guess I'll hang out with you for lunch today."

She looks up from the computer and glances at me. She then stands and goes over to the temp layout that she has laid out. "Well, I'm glad. We haven't really had a chance to talk since your dad was admitted to the hospital."

I nod. "Yeah. So, what do you want to talk about?"

She looks over at me and I turn the chair in her direction. "Let's start off with your dad and then progress to Lana."

"Umm…okay." I say, unsure of what to expect. I sit up a little straighter in my chair and explain to her about Dad's situation and his possible transfer to Metropolis. When I'm done, she is silent.

"Wow…Lana told me all of that this morning, but it didn't seem so serious then." Chloe pauses and then adds, "Only now when I hear it from you, do I fully understand what you're going through."

I say nothing and she continues.

"Well, let me just add before we digress from the topic that your dad is a fighter and I'm sure that everything will turn out fine. If you need anyone to talk to besides Lana, I'm here for you," Chloe says sincerely, holding eye contact with me.

"Thanks, Chloe."

She nods and understands that the topic is now closed. "Since we're done with that, can I now ask you why you haven't asked Lana to prom yet?"

I blink in shock. "I thought prom was next week."

She laughs. "Newsflash, Clark: Prom is tomorrow night. Haven't you seen all the posters in the hallway posted by Dawn Stiles and her posse? It's been the talk of the school for the past two weeks." Chloe shakes her head at me as if disappointed.

"Crap," is all I can say right now. My mind is boggling with things needed to be done before tomorrow night. But before any of those things can be done, I need to do the obvious thing: ask Lana to prom.

"Crap is right," Chloe says, amused. She laughs and suggests, "Clark, if I were you, I'd get in that line full of junior and senior males who conveniently forgot to buy their prom tickets until the last minute."

Lana's POV

I kill the engine and lean over to the passenger's seat to grab two paper bags full to the rim with groceries. Once I have them balanced in my arms, I somehow manage to unlock the door and step out. Closing it with my behind, I make my way to the yellow farm house. To my delight, I find Clark perched on one of the chairs on the wrap-around porch.

He gets up from his seat immediately once he notices me struggling with the groceries.

"Thanks," I say once he lifts the weight from my arms. I follow him in and get a whiff of his cologne.

Clark smiles at me and sets the bags on the counter, peeking at the items I bought.

"I took it upon myself to stock up your fridge for the remainder of the week," I explain to him.

"Lana, you didn't have to do that."

I shrug and reply, "Well, I wanted to. Now help me put these groceries away." He grins as I attempt to put away a box of cereal on the one of the top cabinets. I feel his eyes on my exposed midriff due to my stretching and tippy-toeing. I finally manage to shove the cereal away and move on to the produce.

Clark snaps out of his daze and moves to put the cans away in the pantry.

"I thought that you would be in the west pasture fixing up that fence," I comment, attempting to strike up a conversation as we work.

"Yeah…well, I decided to take a break and spend today with you."

I spin around and peer at him, making sure that I heard correctly.

"What? Can't a guy spend some time with his girlfriend?" Clark asks innocently. I grin inwardly, noting the silent change in our status.

"Not if that guy is trying out new cologne to seduce his girlfriend," I remark.

He brings one of his hands to his chest in mock shock. "Me? Try to seduce the sweet and chaste Lana Lang?"

I laugh, enjoying our playful banter. "Yes, you, Clark Kent."

We laugh and continue chatting about our day. I inform Clark about Tim Burton asking Chloe to prom, yet again, dropping him another hint in hopes that he will get it before tomorrow night. But of course, he glosses over it quickly and moves on to the concerns for his dad.

By then, we are done putting away the groceries and are now sitting on the porch, enjoying iced teas, courtesy of Lipton. We hit a lull in the conversation and I take the time to reflect on the progress made in our relationship so far.

We've come a long way, I decide, sipping my iced tea as Clark stares out into the distance. From a cheerleader to the co-owner of a now well-known coffee shop to the girl who went to Paris and supposedly lived it up, I've grown and changed, and so has Clark. He went from the boy next door to my own personal hero and the town's to…well, an alien? As bizarre as this is, somewhere along the line, I, Lana Lang, fell in love the complex and guarded boy—excuse me, man—who is now sitting to the right of me.

Despite the fact that we've both grown and changed, one of our many habits hasn't. Clark and I usually have the habit of burying old arguments and conveniently forgetting them. As much as I hate this, I'm to share as much blame for this as Clark. I haven't bothered to bring up the subject of Clark's decision to stay in Smallville and neither has he. The time just isn't right…especially not with Jonathon Kent out of commission and in the hospital. But then again, when is the time ever right to discuss old, heated arguments?

A creak to the right brings me out of my thoughts and back to the present. Clark is shifting in his seat, his glass of iced tea empty on the small table between us. I wonder how he managed to finished so fast since I've only drank half of mine.

I set my glass on the table next to his and decide to ponder this another time. I bring one of my legs up to the chair and tuck it under my other one. After sitting in this position for a while and staring out into the setting sky, I turn to Clark. He looks deep in thought as I once was a few minutes before. I clear my throat, indicating that I want to speak. He turns to me and I know then that I have his full attention.

"Clark, I want to talk about your decision to stay in Smallville," I say quietly, but firmly, silently telling him that he's not going to squirm his way out of this.

"I thought you needed time to sort this out?"

"I do. I mean, I did. And I have." I pause to recollect my thoughts. Clark's eyes bore into mine, pleading me to…to what? Not break his heart again? No, Clark, I don't think that I can even do that again, I think, for mine would break along with yours.

"Lana?" he prompts.

I lick my lips. "Clark, I've already told you part of the reason for me reacting the way I did to your decision. But, there's something else." I pause again and glance up at him. He looks slightly bewildered, but nonetheless, I press on.

"Clark, the other reason why I was so worked up when you told me was because…I was scared."

"Scared of what?" he inquires gently.

I take a breath. "Scared that if you stayed in Smallville…we would end up like the older couples that I see in restaurants and even The Talon. They look like any other older couple, but they're not. They don't hold hands…he doesn't open doors or pull out chairs…and they don't touch or kiss. And it's the same routine every day…."

Clark is silent for a minute, trying to digest my clumsy descriptions. "Lana…I'm trying here, I really am…but I don't get it..."

My expression must have turned crest fallen because he then adds quickly, "But maybe if you explain it again. A more general statement, though."

"Clark, they don't have passion," I say, trying to get him to understand. "They don't laugh together or even talk…they just do it out of habit…routine. They've fallen out of love, but they don't even bother to move on because they don't realize this. They've forgotten what it means to love and to be loved back."

Clark still looks slightly puzzled and he attempts a small smile to humor me, but it fails horribly.

"Do you get what I'm trying to say?" I demand.

"Lana…I get it. So there are couples out there who fall out of love and don't realize it because they're so absorbed in their routine."

"Exactly."

"But…"

"But what?" I snap without meaning to.

He opens his mouth, but shuts it, as if contemplating whether or not to say what he has to say. The glare that I'm sending him, however, decides for him.

"Lana, I understand all this, but what does this have to do with us?" Clark asks quietly. I open my mouth to reply, but he hastily cuts me off. "I mean, what does this have to do with your reaction to my decision? Why are you scared?"

"Because those examples of old couples that I've just described…well, I don't want us to end up like them!" I cry, frustrated. "Clark, if you stay in Smallville, it means that we're going to continue to date here, marry here, have kids here, grow old here, and eventually die here! Don't you get it? We're going to end up staying here our whole lives!"

He doesn't say anything at my outburst. I swiftly rise from my chair and go over to lean on the rail of the porch. I half wish that I hadn't brought this up again…I could have easily left this alone and continue my attempts at getting him to ask me to prom. And yet, I didn't.

As much as I hate that we're arguing; this is better than lying to ourselves that everything is alright when it's not. We were going to get this out eventually, why not now?

I hear a slight creak and footsteps. Clark is standing behind me and he speaks in a quiet and grave voice.

"You don't want any of those things to happen?"

At the sound of his heart broken voice, I begin to cry softly. I turn around.

"Of course I do, Clark. I just don't want either of us waking up one day and wondering how life could have been so much different if we had decided to date other people…or maybe even leave Smallville." I sniff and try to avoid his gaze. "Clark, I just don't want you to wake up and wonder how your life would have ended up if you had decided to date the leggy blonde at the bar or the secretary at the office. I don't want to be the reason for you having regrets on your life."

At this, I begin to lose all resolve at composing myself. I give a large sob and I feel his arms wrap around me.

"Lana…please don't cry. I mean, I haven't even decided whether or not I'm going to go to Central Kansas and you've already planned out our whole life."

I attempt a small laugh, but it comes out as a wrenched sob. "I'm sorry," I whisper into his chest.

"No, don't be." He lifts my head from his chest and I do my best to wipe away my tears. "Lana, I told you that if you weren't happy with my decision, we would work something else out. Isn't that what we're doing now?"

He continues to look at me, expecting an answer. I nod. When I don't offer anything else, he goes on.

"Lana…I really don't know how you manage to come up with these things…me waking up one day regretting that I married you and had children with you…." Clark pauses to glance at me, making sure that I'm listening. "Lana, you must know now that my life's ambition is to marry you? Have kids, too, if I get lucky."

Despite myself, I manage a tiny laugh. This satisfies him enough and he plunges on.

"Lana, whether or not I want to stay in Smallville isn't really the question. The question is: do you want me to stay?"

It only takes me a split second to reply. I pull away slightly from his chest and look up, holding eye contact with him. "Yes. I want you to stay."

He remains silent, still holding eye contact with me. Finally, he speaks.

"Good. Because honestly, I would have stayed anyway."

I stare at him and burst out laughing. One minute I'm sobbing onto his clean shirt and the next I'm laughing hysterically. What's up with me?

As my last giggle fades, I glance at Clark and find an amused smile there. I'm relieved to find the tension between us gone.

"Lana, promise me that you won't go about mapping our future without me?"

"I promise," I say sheepishly, feeling slightly foolish for getting worked up over something that hasn't even come to pass. "And you have to promise me that you won't go around making decisions concerning our future without me?"

"Definitely."

"Glad that we have that straightened out," I say, ignoring a nagging feeling. I've forgotten something…but what?

I realize what this is as I continue to gaze at Clark and his handsome features. There's so much potential there to offer to the world…. Is it selfish of me to not want to let him go in spite of my thoughts earlier of feeling guilty if I didn't? I push the thoughts to the back of my mind vainly, in hopes that they will disappear and leave us alone to enjoy this moment.

The sun has long past settled and the beginnings of dusk are showing. We stand on the porch, taking pleasure in each other's company and this time of the day.

"Lana?" Clark's voice sounds nervous for some strange reason.

"Hmm?" I look up at him and see a small blush on his boyish cheeks.

"Would you like to go with me to prom?"

I blink, not certain that I heard correctly. "What?"

"To prom. Umm…do you want to go…with me?"

I gape at him for a few minutes and then hastily reply. "Yes. Of course I'll go with you."

He opens his mouth to reply when we both turn to the ringing of the phone from inside the house. He goes in and I follow to start dinner.

I go to the fridge and pull out defrosted raw steaks. I then begin to pull out other ingredients and utensils that I will need, while at the same time, listening in on Clark.

"Tonight?" Clark inquires, pacing around with the phone.

"Alright. I will. That's fine." Clark mutters, agreeing to something.

There's a pause as I assume the task of pouring oil on a pan and turning up the heat on the stove. An outburst from Clark nearly makes me pour the whole can of vegetable oil in.

"What? Are you sure, Mom?" Another pause and a reply from Clark. "But how? That's impossible."

Clark falls silent, clearly rattled and growing frustrated. "But─"

After several more grunts and "uh-huhs", Clark hangs up the phone. I turn from the stove and call out to him.

"Clark? What did your mom say?" When he doesn't reply, I grow concerned. I turn off the stove and make my way to the living room where he is hunched over on the couch; his head is in his hands.

"Clark?" I step toward him gingerly, not knowing what to do.

"Clark? Are you okay?" I ask, taking a seat next to a hunched over Clark.

He finally looks up, tears streaming down his face. I immediately take him into my arms.

"Lana…my dad is going to be transferred to Metropolis."

I wait for more, but he doesn't add anything. "Well, Metropolis is only three hours away, Clark, and I'm sure that with super speed, you can visit him almost daily," I tell him soothingly.

"That's not all. Lana…my dad needs a heart transplant or he's going to die soon," Clark croaks, clinging on to me.

I sit there in shock, barely registering that tears are welling up in my own eyes. No…not now. Not when everything is finally falling together…