Sorry for the wait...I had hours of chem homework to do. Thanks for reading.

"How long has it been since you've been back in Smallville?" Clark asked as they drove past endless fields of corn stalk.

"Almost ten years, actually," Lana replied, her head pressed against the cool of the glass window. "I haven't really had any reason to come back here."

Clark glanced at her, certain that she was the most breath-taking thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. The gold from the stalks of corn and the early afternoon sun hit her facial features in a way that made her hair shine and her eyes sparkle, giving her an angelic and ethereal glow.

"What do you think of when you think of Smallville?"

Lana turned her head slightly to face him. "About high school mainly. Whoever said that high school would be the best and worst years of our lives was right."

Clark agreed silently with her. High school had been the most memorable and painful period of his life. Memorable because of all the lifelong bonds and relationships he had formed. Painful because of the breaking of some of those bonds.

"How about you? What do you think about?"

He continued to look out the windshield for a while before actually answering. "The same, I guess. Except, my high school ups and downs were a little more unique than yours."

Lana laughed, nodding her head. "You always were the unique one, Clark."

He shrugged, knowing that it was true.

"It's weird, you know, thinking back on high school. I remember feeling so insecure with myself and everyone around me. I was so scared that everyone I cared about was going to leave me... That fear stopped me from living life to its fullest," Lana said quietly, her gaze on him.

Clark tore his eyes from the road to stare back at her. "I think that everyone was trying to find themselves in high school, Lana. It doesn't make you any less strong or brave."

She gave him a sad, melancholic smile and turned back to look out the window. The rest of the drive to the Kent Farm was in silence, as both were consumed in their own thoughts.

When Clark pulled up into the driveway of his childhood home moments later, Lana had resumed her nervous habit of tucking her hair behind her ear. Clark watched out of the corner of his eye as she tucked strands of hair behind her left ear. A few minutes later, once he had killed the engine, she was smoothing out the front of her blue flannel shirt that he had loaned her.

"You look amazing," he assured her.

She turned to him and smiled slightly. "I guess that I'm just a little nervous. I haven't seen your parents in so long..." She trailed off and glanced at the yellow farm house. "I feel kinda guilty for losing contact with them. Especially your mom."

She had kept in contact with them? His mother hadn't mentioned anything to him before, Clark recalled, bewildered. Nevertheless, he gave her a reassuring smile, exited the car, and opened the door for her.

She thanked him quietly and waited as he ran around back to get his overnight bag. He hadn't packed much...just a couple of shirts, jeans, and the daily essentials. Clark was almost certain that his mom would have his room all ready for him anyway.

"I'm sure that my mom would be able to lend you some clothes," Clark commented as Lana wrapped her arms around her small frame. Another nervous habit of hers.

"If not, we could always go into town and get you some clothes," Clark continued, leading the way to the house. Lana was practically glued to his side.

Clark set his bag on the side of the porch and pulled open the screen door for Lana. Almost immediately, the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon apple pie filled their nostrils and Clark found himself regretting not coming home more often.

"Mom? Dad?" he called out, letting the screen door swing close behind him.

"Clark? Is that you?" There was the noise of a chair scrapping on the floor before Martha Kent came into view.

"Mom," Clark greeted, enveloping her in a bear hug as she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Where's Dad?" he asked once she had pulled away.

"Your father is still insisting on trying to run an entire farm all by himself," Martha replied, clearly at odds with this idea. She took a step back to get a good look at him and was about to chastise him about not eating enough when she spotted Lana over in the corner.

"Lana?"

"Hi, Mrs. Kent," Lana greeted timidly, as she stepped out from behind Clark's towering figure.

Clark saw his mother glance up at him, slightly confused, but never the one to be cold, she hugged Lana warmly, even giving her a kiss on the cheek. The gesture made his heart lighter and even a little nostalgic. His mother had treated Lana like a daughter when they were going steady...and even if they had kinks in their relationship, Martha Kent had always been there for her.

"Lana...this is a pleasant surprise," Martha said, acting as if Lana visited often and had just forgotten to mention this particular visit. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm...good," Lana replied, glancing at Clark, smiling.

Despite Martha's warm welcoming, there was still a moment of awkwardness. One of those moments when one has something to say or ask, but simply can not for fear of sounding rude.

Clark coughed. "Where's Pete, mom?"

"Oh, he had an appointment at the caterer's with Marie and her mother. He wanted to wait for you, but with the wedding next month...he's really pressed for time."

"Oh, okay."

Silence.

"Have you and Lana had lunch yet?"

"We had a really big breakfast," Clark answered for the both of them.

"Well, just let me know when you get hungry. That goes for both of you," Martha said firmly, looking over at Lana with her crystal clear blue eyes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Kent," Lana said gratefully. Although she hadn't thought much about them over the past few years, Jonathon and Martha Kent meant as much to her as much as they meant to Clark. They had always been in her life since she was a little girl and it wasn't until she had befriended Clark that she had grown to appreciate them more. In her senior year of high school, Martha and Jonathon had treated Lana like she was their own daughter, constantly inviting her over for dinner and other family gatherings. For once in her life, she felt like she had a real family. But when Clark left Smallville for the world, Lana had been forced to break off her relationship with them, convinced that it was too painful to keep in touch with them.

"You know that you can always call me and Jonathon by our first names," Martha reminded her gently.

Clark, who had been rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes, butted in right at that moment. "Mom, Lana doesn't have any clothes to wear. Do you think you have some that you could lend her?"

"Of course," Martha said graciously. She directed her attention to Lana. "Do you have a place to stay, sweetie?"

"Actually, I was thinking that Lana could take my room and I could sleep on the couch," Clark jumped in for Lana.

"I'll go set up Clark's room for you." Martha smiled at the two, giving her son a look that clearly read that he had some explaining to do later.

Once his mother reached the top of the stairs, Clark sneaked a glance at Lana. "Hey, you okay?"

Lana nodded slowly. "Yeah...I think I am." She smiled, showing her dimples, her eyes lighting up under the Kansas sun that was filtering through the kitchen window. "Thanks for inviting me out here, Clark. I think I really needed a break from Metropolis. Especially the wedding...and Jason."

At the mention of Jason, Clark frowned. "I'm glad that you came, Lana."

"Me too." She gave him one last smile before touching his arm in a grateful manner. "I'm going to go see if your mom needs any help."

Clark nodded, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching her climb the stairs. Just as she disappeared from sight, the screech of the screen door opening and shutting sounded throughout the house.

Clark spun around just in time to see his dad, gray in the temples but still as proud and stubborn as he remembered. "Dad," he called out, strolling over to him.

"Clark?" Jonathon squinted at him, his forehead wrinkling up. He let out a laugh and cried, "C'mon over here and give me a hug."

Clark laughed and hugged him tightly as his dad thumped him on the back affectionately. "Mom tells me that you're still insisting on doing everything around here."

"Did she now?" Jonathon pulled away, his hands placed on his son's shoulders. "A man's gotta feed his family."

"What have you been doing with those paychecks that I've sent you and Mom?"

Jonathon slapped his shoulder and padded toward the fridge. He took his time pouring two glasses of orange juice, one for him and one for his son. "We've put them toward our retirement fund, son. Don't worry about us."

"Dad...the doctor said that you should take it easy. Even Mom agrees with me and thinks its time for you to retire."

"Retire?" Jonathon repeated as if it was all nonsense. "Nah, I've still got a couple of years left in me, Clark."

"Dad...your heart..." Clark reminded, accepting the orange juice from him.

"Clark, I feel fine. Now, I know that you didn't come all this way to Smallville to bicker about this with me."

Clark sighed, dropping the subject for now.

"Where's your mother? I would have thought she would be stuffing you up," Jonathon joked, noticing the apple cinnamon pie that was still on the cooling rack.

"She's upstairs...setting up my room." As soon as the words left his mouth, the chattering of small talk could be heard coming from the upstairs.

Jonathon shot Clark a look and cautiously approached the stairwell. "Who is your mother talking to?"

"Dad, Lana came with me to Smallville," he blurted out.

"Lana Lang? But...you haven't seen her in years," Jonathon reasoned.

"I know, but we bumped into each other a month ago. I was in my Superman costume and--"

"Wait a minute, Lana could tell that it was you in there? How do we know other people haven't been able to tell?"

"Dad, it's Lana."

Jonathon sighed, smiling despite his apprehension earlier. "How's Lana doing, son?"

"She's getting married next month." Clark swirled the orange juice in his glass, watching the little circles spinning around.

"By the look on your face, I'm guessing that it's not to you," Jonathon said wisely.

Clark shook his head, sighing. He lowered his voice so that it wouldn't carry upstairs. "Dad...it's been ten years since I've seen her... Why do I still feel the same way about her like I did ten years ago? It doesn't make any sense."

Jonathon smiled slightly and placed a hand on his son's shoulder, remembering the days when his son used to come to him for every single thing. "Lana was your first love, son. It's normal to want what you guys had back in high school. But you have to realize when to let go."

"Believe me, Dad, I've tried," he said seriously. "But...I just can't. Everywhere I go, I see her and hear her. Please tell me that this isn't normal."

"Well, you were never completely normal, Clark," Jonathon said lightly, squeezing his shoulder. "Look, I can't tell you what to do or what not to do, but you gotta remember that she's engaged now."

Clark nodded, understanding what his father was getting at.

"I'm going to go up and say 'hi' to Lana." Jonathon patted his son's shoulder. "Why don't you give Pete a call? I'm sure that he wants to know that you're in so that you can get your tuxedo fitted for the wedding."

Clark watched as his dad disappeared upstairs, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his full glass of orange juice in his hand. He took a seat at one of the stools at the breakfast counter and sipped the juice, listening to the conversation taking place in his room. As easily as Lana Lang had slipped out of his life, she had fit right in again.

Clark stuffed the last piece of pie on his mouth and dropped his fork with a clatter. He leaned back against his chair, patting his stomach.

"Someone sure enjoyed their dessert," Lana teased, leaning over and stealing a piece of an uneaten brownie on his plate.

"And someone sure enjoys eating off of me instead of eating their own dessert." Clark picked up his fork and reclaimed his brownie.

Lana pouted playfully. "Hey, it wasn't like you were going to eat it anyway."

"Be nice," Martha called from the sink, smiling to herself.

Jonathon noticed the smirk on his wife's face and shook his head. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she was actually rooting for the two of them to get together.

"What?" Martha challenged her husband.

"Nothing, dear." He continued to dry the dishes with the rag that had been thrown at him earlier by his wife. Once the dishes had been dried off, both he and Martha announced that they were hitting the sack early.

"Don't stay up too late, kids," Martha warned them, following her husband up the stairs.

""Night Martha and Jonathon," Lana said politely.

"'Night Mom. 'Night Dad." Clark called, realizing that he and Lana were completely alone now.

As Lana finished off the last of his sweets, Clark wondered if she was heading off to bed soon. Not wanting the evening to end quite yet, he decided to put forth a plan.

"Lana?"

"Yes?"

"Would you care to accompany me outside?"

She laughed at his British accent. "Sure." She dropped her fork and gracefully stood. Clark couldn't help but gawk at the curves outlined by the modest lavender dress that his mother had been able to dig up.

He followed her out the screen door and took a seat next to her on the porch swing that Grandpa Hiram Kent had constructed himself.

Lana began swinging on the bench and Clark helped her get into a steady rhythm. The creaking of the swing and the chirping of the crickets was their music while the twinkling of the stars in the night sky was their visual pleasure.

"You've changed."

"Have I?"

Lana nodded; her gaze still on the heavens. "You're different."

"I hope it's in a good way."

"It is." There was a pause before she went on. "You still have the weight of the world on your shoulders...but it's different. It's like...you can handle it now. It doesn't scare you anymore."

"I never realized that it did," he said thoughtfully.

"How about me? Have I changed?"

He shook his head. "You're still the same as I remembered you. Headstrong, independent, and as beautiful as ever."

She smiled, knowing that he was sincere in his words. "Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think of Jason?"

Instead of answering right away, he looked to the night sky, seemingly certain that it would have the answers he was looking for. "Well...he treats you well, doesn't he?"

She nodded, hands folded in her lap. "I can tell that you don't like him very much."

He shifted uncomfortably. "It doesn't really matter what I think, does it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Do you love him?" He knew that he had asked this question before, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to her answer.

"I really do love him. Believe me, I do. It's just..."

"What?" he prodded. There was something in her voice...something that told him that she wasn't entirely sure.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm marrying the right man. I mean, I know that he loves me, but...something's missing."

Clark nodded. They hit a lull in the conversation, allowing the crickets to fill it.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Fill me in on the past ten years."

"Starting from when?"

"The day you left Smallville," Lana said quietly.

He remembered that day well. "Jor-El told me to travel the planet...learn as much as I could about the human race. So, I did. For two years."

"Where did you go?"

"Mostly to rural places that needed rebuilding. I helped one village in Nigeria rebuild after a fire and in Cambodia I lived with a farmer and his wife for a couple of months. I helped them with the harvest. I never did stay in one place for too long, though. I kept bouncing around."

"That's amazing, Clark. Getting to help all those people."

"It was... You know, all this time I thought that Jor-El wanted me to conquer this planet, but he actually wanted me to protect it from evil."

"That's where Superman came in?" she asked.

He nodded. "Mom made the costume...and well, you helped with the name."

Clark awoke to a strange, but pleasurable tickling sensation on his bare chest. He opened his eyes halfway, enough to see her fingers tracing circles on his chest.

"Lana, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice coming out as a rasp from not having spoken for a few hours.

Her fingers stopped their movement and in the faint moonlight, he could see her smiling. "Nothing, Clark. Go back to sleep."

"Can't. I'm awake...we might as well continue what we were doing earlier," Clark whispered devilishly in her ear. He rolled over so that he was above her, careful to place most of his weight on his elbows.

Lana gave him a sleepy smile and reached up to play with his dark curls at the base of head. "Maybe later, my Superman."

"Superman, huh?" He gently rolled off of her and leaned back against the covers.

Lana snuggled up against him, letting his hands roam underneath the blankets. "Yes, Superman."

"I remember that night," Lana said coyly. "You're parents were out of town in Grandville for a farmer's market. We had the whole house to ourselves."

"I can't believe you remember that," Clark confessed.

"Why wouldn't I? You obviously remembered."

"Good point." Clark grinned as she scooted closer to him, looping her arm through his. "What about you? What have you been up to for the past ten years?"

"I went to Met U...got a degree in modern art. And...here I am five years later."

"Do you still paint?"

"No...I stopped years ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know..." Lana said truthfully. "I remember I used to love doing it. Sitting near the window all day and just painting."

He smiled, memories flooding back to him. "Why don't you start again?"

"I can't... I haven't picked up a brush in years."

"It doesn't matter, Lana. Talent isn't something that you can learn from school or from a book. You have to be born with it. And I know that you have talent."

"How can you be so sure?" Lana asked; her gaze on him.

"Because I believe in you. I still have them...you're sketches and paintings that you gave me."

She smiled, content with his answer.

"Lana, do you regret coming out here to Smallville with me?"

Lana gazed at him, his eyes full of adoration for her. She knew that he still loved her. The question was, did she?

"No, I don't," she said quietly, leaning against him.

The two sat out there on the porch for what seemed like eternity, but for the two former lovers, it was only a fleeting moment of their lifetime.