Clark's POV

It's been a week since Dad's funeral. I wanted to take a few days off of school for Mom's sake, but she insisted that I go. I think that she's scared that I'm not going to make it to graduation or something.

Things at the house have been unusually quiet since Dad's passing. Usually, when I come home from school, Mom is waiting for me with a plate of freshly baked goods. This past week, though, she's been taking extra shifts at The Talon, trying to save up. The only time I see Mom is in the mornings and even then, we're both rushing to get to our morning activities. I, on the other hand, come home straight after school and start the chores. Now that Dad's gone, it's up to me to run the farm and bring home the bacon, so to speak.

Lana usually swings by near dinner time to make me something to eat since Mom is working. As much as I appreciate Lana cooking for me, I hate that our family is falling apart. Mom and I rarely have anytime to talk or sit and have a family meal together like we did before Dad's passing.

My relationship with my mom isn't the only things falling apart. Lana and I haven't been out on a date since Prom and I can tell that it's putting a strain on our relationship. I nearly snapped at her last night for a reason that I can't even recall. I apologized to her, of course, but I can tell that she was still upset about it today at school, although she tried her best to hide it.

I sigh and put my hammer down. Leaning against the fence, I begin to think of ways to make up my behavior last night to Lana. Nonetheless, they come out fruitless and I find myself heading into the house to get a drink.

I pull open the screen door and my eyes widen when I see my mom sitting at the table, pouring over bills.

"Mom? I thought you had to work," I say, stepping into the house and shutting the door behind me.

Mom glances up from the papers, looking overwhelmed. "Oh, well, I decided to take today off and sort through the bills again."

"How's it looking?" I ask, going over to the fridge.

I hear her sigh and punch in numbers on a nearby calculator. "Not good, sweetie. We're down to our last dollars."

I straighten up when I see nothing but water to drink. "What? That can't be right."

"No, I've triple checked and it's looking grim…."

I close the fridge door and take a seat next to her. "Are you sure? I mean, what about your pay checks from The Talon? And Dad's life insurance?"

"You know that I use my checks from The Talon to take care of the bills there and to buy groceries for us. But, with Lex giving me full ownership of The Talon, I have to put in more money in the coffee shop."

"What about the money that we got from Dad's life insurance? Surely that ought to be enough."

Mom sighs again and turns in her seat to face me. "I thought that it would be, too, but your father's hospital bills are higher than I had expected. They took a huge chunk out of our budget."

I rack my brain for more ideas to cut down on our spending. "You can always refuse to buy the cap and gowns that the school offers. I mean, we could go out and buy second hand ones."

"I suppose so…" Mom says, contemplating this.

"We can ask Mr. Green for a loan. He's an old friend of Dad's and he also manages a farm. I bet he would agree."

"Honey…we don't have any money to pay Mr. Green back if we were to get a loan. It'll just add to our bills."

"Okay, I can get a job then," I say desperately.

"Absolutely not. Right now, you have too much on your plate. With the farm…and school work…I don't want you to overwork yourself. You're not even out of high school yet."

"But Mom," I press, "A lot of seniors at school have jobs…and I can manage. I can get all the farm work done before I head off to work."

But she's resolute. I play with a few more solutions and finally voice one that I never thought I would.

"I can talk to Lex then. I know that we've had our differences…but maybe…"

"Clark, Lex has basically cut all ties with us. He gave me The Talon and he left us sole ownership of this farm. We can't ask for another thing…it's obvious that he wants us out of his life," Mom says quietly, fidgeting with her pen.

That's right, I remember, Lex has moved to Metropolis. "There has to be something that we can do…."

Mom looks suddenly nervous. "Clark…I've been thinking…after your graduation, we could move. To Metropolis. I've been looking at some apartments in Metropolis and─"

"No!" I shake my head in disbelief. "Mom, I can't believe that it's come to this…Dad worked hard to keep this farm in this family. We can't just sell it, pick up, and move!"

"Clark, I know that you're upset─"

Upset doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. How about betrayed? Betrayed that my Mom is actually considering relocating to Metropolis and selling our home!

"Mom, everything and everyone I love is here in Smallville," I tell her.

"Clark, if we move to Metropolis, I could get a job in business and we could afford for you to go Metropolis University─"

"What about Lana?" I ask loudly. "You can't just expect me to leave her—again."

Mom closes her eyes and pleads for me to listen. "Clark, sweetie, I know how much she means to you, but the fact is, we can't afford this house or this farm anymore."

"We could get a smaller place here…and after high school, I can get a job. With my paycheck and yours from The Talon, we can make it work," I counter, not bothering to remedy the farm issue.

"Clark, we wouldn't be able to pay for your college tuition then. If we moved to Metropolis, I can put my college degree to use and we'd have more money…you'd be able to go to Met U with Pete and Chloe." Mom touches my arm to get me to look at her.

"What about Lana?" I ask stubbornly.

"You can visit her anytime you like," Mom offers.

"It's not the same…. I can't believe that you're actually giving up on this farm. Dad could've made it work, why can't we?" I ask, my voice rising. I stand up and nearly knock over my chair.

"Clark!"

It's too late, though. I'm already out the door, halfway to Lana's apartment.

Lana's POV

"I'll be right there!" I shout out to the person knocking on the door. I place the bag of groceries on the counter, having just gotten in from the market. The knocking ceases for a while, and then starts again. I hear my name being called.

I throw my purse on the coffee table and swing the door open.

"Clark?"

"Hi."

I step back to allow him entry and he goes over to the living area, looking a little lost.

"I was about to come over…I just got in from the market," I inform him, shutting the door and following him.

"Oh…is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all." I take in his appearance. His white tee-shirt has specks of dirt on it and his hair looks a little frazzled.

Clark nods and shoves his hands in his pockets. I squint at him, confused.

An awkward silence passes before either one of us says anything.

"Umm…would you like something to drink?" I ask, needing something, anything to do. Without waiting for a reply, I go over to the sink and fill a pot up with water for tea.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clark sit on the couch, his head in his hands. Wondering about his strange behavior, I leave the kitchen and take a seat next to him.

"Are you okay, Clark?" I ask, placing my hand on his knee.

My touch seems to jerk him out of his daze and he lifts his head. "No, not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he takes my hand off of his knee and gently squeezes it.

"Lana…my mom…she's thinking of moving us to Metropolis."

I sit there, stunned, unable to come up with anything sufficient enough to say. Finally, I blurt out, "What?"

Clark sighs and rubs his face with his free hand. "Lana…we don't have enough money to keep the farm or the house. Mom thinks that if we move, she'll be able to get a decent job and I could go to Met U."

"But…what about the farm? Hasn't it been in your family for─"

"Nearly three generations," Clark finishes. "I know, Lana, but Mom…" He pauses, clearly frustrated. "It's really bad, Lana. We're down to our last dollars…even if she didn't want to move, the bank would eventually kick us out anyway."

I shake my head, unwilling to comprehend the reality of this situation. "But…how about a loan?"

"Already pitched that out to my mom."

"There has to be something," I say desperately, turning to look at him.

"Not unless I rob a bank or something," Clark says half jokingly. I frown to let him know that I don't find it amusing.

I rack my brain for more ideas, but none of them seem practical. There has to be something, I repeat in my head. Clark can't go to Metropolis…not now.

The whistling of the kettle brings me out of my thoughts. Clark offers to get it and I let him, trying to cope with the reality that Clark could be gone by the end of the summer.

My eyes drift over the room, seemingly looking for something that could help Clark and Martha's financial situation. More than once, my eyes linger on the canvas and easel that I have set up near the windows.

Clark enters the room again, this time with two steaming cups of tea. He hands one to me and I take, sipping it.

Clark doesn't start on his tea; instead he sets it down on one of the coasters. I can tell that he's deep in thought.

"Clark?" I whisper. He looks up. "I don't want you to go."

Clark lowers his eyes and says in a low voice, "I don't want to go either…but…" He trails off and I know that he doesn't have a say in the matter. As much as he loves me, I know that he would never leave his widowed mother to fend for herself in the big city. That's just his caring nature.

And unless I can come up with some serious cash in the next few days, Clark is going to leave, whether he wants to or not.

"Chloe, do you know anyone willing to pay some serious cash for an art student's paintings?"

It's been a day and counting since Clark told me of his possible move to Metropolis. Since then, I've been busier than usual. I stayed up until one in the morning perfecting and adding to my project that I've kept hidden from Clark.

Chloe looks at me, a little shocked at my question that came out of no where during our lunch in The Torch. She takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing over my question.

"You plan on going on a shopping spree this weekend, Lana?"

I laugh. "Without you? Of course not."

Chloe laughs and puts down her sandwich. She swivels around in her chair, tapping on a few keys on her computer.

"Well, the big name that pops up is Lex Luthor. I mean, he does own one of the largest art galleries in downtown Metropolis."

"Lex?"

"Yeah, but there are private collectors, too. Although, I'm not sure that they would be interested in a student's work, no matter how good it is." Chloe glances away from the computer screen, her eyes on me.

"So my best bet would be Lex?" I ask, dreading her reply.

"Well, I wouldn't rule him out," Chloe says, sipping her juice. We continue eating in silence until Chloe asks me the one question that I had been preparing myself for.

"Lana, if you don't mind me asking, why are you interested in this? I mean, are you short on money, assuming that you're the art student looking for big bucks."

"Don't we all need money, Chloe?" I answer evasively, hoping that she'll lay off the subject.

"I suppose…" is all Chloe says. I can still see the wheels turning and whirling in her head. For the time being, I ignore them and focus on my plans for tomorrow.

I readjust my purse strap and hug my large canvas bag to my body. Inside are three paintings, and if I'm lucky, I will probably get two thousand dollars for each of them.

I glance around at the amount of security that the LuthorCorp building has on the outside premises. I push past my intimidation of the building and enter through the elegant glass doors. The receptionist at the table sends me a strangely fake smile. Nevertheless, I approach her anyway.

"Umm…hi," I say, as she taps a few keys on her keyboard.

"Are you with the Metro High students here on a field trip?" she asks, not even bothering to wait for me to answer. "They just passed through five minutes ago—if you hurry, you can catch up with them."

"No, I'm not here for the field trip─"

"You have an appointment then?"

"No, but─"

"I'm sorry, but no one is allowed to see any members of the staff at Luthorcorp without an appointment. Would you like to schedule one for next week?"

I hold my tongue, frustrated at this so-called receptionist who is smacking her gum so loudly that gum chewing should be listed as one of the many rules around here. "Listen, I really need to speak to Mr. Luthor─"

"No can do, honey. He's a very busy man and without an appointment, I can't let you in."

"But, I'm a friend of his. If you can just talk to him, tell him who I am, I'm sure that─"

Alas, she cuts me off again. I fight the urge to strangle her in hopes of her choking on her gum.

"Listen, babe, I've dealt with girls like you before. If you're looking for a consolation prize, Mr. Luthor has already sent them to you. They should arrive in a few days. If they don't, then I guess you just weren't his type."

I blink. "What are you talking about?"

"No need to be all hush-hush about things like this, doll. I understand that you have your needs and that older men appeal to girls like you." She pauses and smacks her gum some more. "Now, listen, I've got work to do, so if you're done here, you can find your way out, can't ya?"

My face grows red, not from embarrassment at having her imply that I slept with Lex Luthor, but anger. "Look," I begin, my voice shaking, "I drove three hours to be here. Not only that, but I skipped school, lied to my boyfriend that I was sick, and I stayed up 'til one in the morning to get these"—I lift my bag up—"done. I am not just going to turn around and roll over for some pathetic receptionist who chews her gum so loudly that the next state can hear her! I am not leaving until I get to talk to Lex Luthor!"

With that, I am escorted out by security. After an hour of relentless pacing, my solution of getting into LuthorCorp comes in the form of pizza.

"Hey!" I wave at a boy who has had the misfortunate of discovering how vicious acne can be.

"Y-yeah?" He straightens his posture and tries his best to look "cool."

"Who are those pizzas for?" I ask, pointing at the stack of pizza boxes that look like they could feed the entire football team.

"LuthorCorp—for a board meeting." He puffs out his chest like he's the official pizza boy for LuthorCorp.

"Really?" I decide to play along. "Wow…that's impressive. You must be really good at…umm…delivering pizzas if you get to into a board meeting." I flutter my eyelashes, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. If only Clark could see me now.

"Y-yeah. I'm the best," he stutters.

I flash him a smile and glance at his name tag. "Well, Greg, I think that's a really cool job you have. I would kill to be in your place." That's right, butter him up for the kill, I think.

"R-really?" He nearly drops his boxes of pizza.

I nod. "You know…do you think that you could show me the ropes? I'm kind of in a sticky situation…I need some cash."

"S-sure."

"Great." I snatch the boxes of pizza from his hands and his hat with the logo of an apricot and a slice of pizza. I put on the hat and proceed to enter the building.

"Hey! Wait! What are you doing?"

I glance behind me. "Learning the ropes, remember?" I turn back around and walk through the doors before acne boy can stop me.

When I near the gum smacking receptionist, I raise the box of pizzas high to cover my face. "Delivery for the board meeting."

"Oh, right. Just go on in. Fifth floor, second door on your right," she says, flipping through the latest teen magazine.

I nearly run in and jab the up button for the elevator. Once I'm inside the elevator, I dump the pizzas on the floor and readjust my purse and canvas bag on my shoulder.

The doors slide open and I quickly find the room that the receptionist directed me to. I wonder if I should wait outside for Lex. But it could take hours for him to immerge and I don't have all day. I need to be back by the time school is over in case Clark comes to check up on me.

I feel guilty for lying to him this morning…but if I had told him what I'm doing now, he would have never agreed to it. One, he would have flipped out if I had suggested selling my paintings to Lex and second, he would have never accepted the money anyway if he knew where it came from.

I hear some movement from inside the room, but I can't make out any voices. Suddenly, the doors swing open and people in newly pressed business suits come out. One of them even questions about the pizza.

I wait until they're all gone and sneak into the room. Lex is at the head of the table, putting papers and folders into a black suitcase. I clear my throat.

"Lana." Lex looks up in surprise. His lips curl into a smirk. "Are you here to check up on how I'm doing in the Big Apricot or are you here to aim more insinuations at me like Clark?"

I almost turn to leave then, but I steel myself. I should have known that Lex would have brought up Clark.

"Actually, no. I'm here because I have a business proposition for you," I say in what I hope is a business-like tone. I step forward and slip my canvas bag back off my shoulder, pulling out three oil paintings.

"Very impressive," Lex says, examining them as I lay them out on the table. "But why the three hour drive to when you could have just sent an email?"

"Look, Lex, I really need money for…for my college tuition," I begin, falling back on the story that I had concocted during my three hour drive here. "And I thought that since you own the Metropolis Art Gallery…"

"That I would be interested in paying you for your paintings," Lex finishes, hands in pockets.

I nod.

"Lana, you know that the downtown art gallery was just something that my father built because he could. I personally have no interest in art."

Great, I think. I spent three hours in a car, lied to Clark, and flirted with a pizza boy for nothing.

"Well, I guess that it's your loss," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them due to my frustration. "Art is something that everyone should have in their lives…and I don't mean just paintings or drawings; music, too, and poetry. But I guess you're too busy to care."

I begin to pack up the paintings. Just as I reach for the last one, Lex picks it up.

"I'll give you two thousand for each piece."

"Make it two thousand and five hundred and you have yourself a deal," I say, surprising myself.

"Deal." Lex goes over to a safe installed in the wall and pulls out a stack of bills.

"I assume that you want them in cash?" he asks, counting out seventy-five hundred dollars.

I nod, blindly aware that I raised seventy-five hundred dollars in a matter of a few moments.

Lex hands me the cash in an envelope. I take it and place it carefully in my purse, folding the canvas bag over so that it'll be easier to carry.

"I'd be careful with that money if I were you," Lex suggests, going over and snapping his back briefcase shut. "There are plenty of muggers out there in the city."

"Thanks." I readjust the strap of my purse into a more comfortable position.

"The Big Apricot's Pizza?"

"Excuse me?"

He points at something on top of my head.

I yank the hat off my head, realizing that I've been wearing it this whole time. I flush and throw the hat on the conference table.

"Well, I'd better get going." I walk across the room toward the door. I pause when Lex calls my name.

"Lana, you have a lot of talent. Don't go wasting it by staying in that small town."

"That small town is my home. And whether you believe it or not, there are a lot of things to stay there for," I say angrily, spinning around.

"Like Clark?"

"Yes, like Clark," I reply, stalking out the door.

Back at my apartment, I glance at my alarm clock on my night stand. Fifteen more minutes until school is out.

I throw down my purse and empty canvas bag, and hurry to the bathroom to take a quick shower before Clark gets here. How I know Clark will be here in fifteen minutes, it's just a hunch.

Ten minutes later, I'm out of the bathroom in a robe, cleaning up the place. I stuff my purse into a drawer so it looks like I haven't been out at all. Then, I rumple up the bed sheets to make it look like I've been in bed all day, curled up with a book maybe.

I then get into bed and pretend to be reading, noting how much time has passed. A minute after 3:15, there's a knock at the door.

"C'mon in," I call, purposely making my voice weak. I try to appear tired which is easy because I am.

Clark enters, carrying his backpack. "Hey. You feeling better?"

I put my book down, making sure to take my time sitting up in bed. "Yeah…I think so."

Clark opens his backpack and pulls out a canned soup. I smile inwardly, knowing that when I actually do get sick, he'll be there to take care of me.

"You didn't have to bring me soup," I say, feeling bad for deceiving him like this.

"It's no problem," Clark says, pouring the soup into a bowl and heating it up with his heat vision. "There was a four for one special at Josie's."

"Still…" I sit up a little straighter and lean back against the pillows, wondering how I'm going to give him the money.

Clark rummages through the cabinets for a while, looking for a serving tray. He finds it and goes over to the pantry for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"Crackers."

I cringe, feeling even worse. He's doing all these sweet things for me when I'm not even sick. I bet he'll even spoon feed me, too.

He immerges, carrying a box of crackers. When the serving tray is prettied up to his liking, he brings it over to me. I scoot to allow for him to sit in bed with me.

"Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor, Lana?" Clark asks, attempting, as I had predicted, to spoon feed me. "You look kinda pale."

"I do?" I consciously bring a hand to my cheek.

He puts the spoon back on the tray and brings a hand to my forehead. "You don't seem to be burning up, though. You must have improved from this morning."

I nod and reach for the spoon.

"Here—let me."

"Clark, I appreciate you doing all of this for me, but, really, I can feed myself." I slurp a bit of the soup to show him. He laughs and I take a bite of a cracker.

In no time, the soup and crackers are gone due to the fact that I haven't eaten since breakfast.

"Wow, someone's hungry." Clark grins and takes the tray over to the sink. "Would you like some tea?"

"Umm…sure," I say, swinging my legs over the bed and pulling out my bedside drawer. I glance at Clark who is busy heating up some water. I pull out my purse and slide the envelope of bills out.

"Here." Clark hands me a cup of tea and I take a sip. Then, I set it down on the table and pat the space next to me on the bed.

"What's that?" Clark asks curiously, pointing at the envelope in my hand.

I don't reply, instead, I allow him to take it from me. Abruptly, he stands.

"Clark, before you say anything─"

"Lana, where did you get this?" Clark asks, stunned at the stack of bills in his hand.

"It doesn't matter where I got it."

"Lana─"

I stand. "Clark, I got it for you and your mom. I-I didn't want you to leave Smallville and the only thing I could think of to get you to stay was if your financial situation was cleared up."

Clark slips the money back into the envelope. "Lana, I can't take this."

"Yes, you can," I say firmly, taking his hand. "Please take it, Clark." I plead him with my eyes and eventually he gives in.

"Lana…I don't know how to thank you," Clark whispers, hugging me close.

"You don't have to. I did this for my own selfish reasons, too. I wanted you to stay in Smallville with me," I say softly.

"I would have stayed anyway," Clark says in a low voice. "Even if I couldn't afford it…I would have stayed. For you."

I smile and we kiss. Eventually, we find our way into bed, making love.