A/N: I think that Clark and Chloe have earned a little R & R, don't you? g In this chapter, they get more than they expect. :)

Chapter Five

A few hours later, at her desk in the Planet's basement, Chloe replaced her phone on its cradle with a soft groan and rested her head in her hands. "I am so dead."

The young gofer who had taken her to Kahn's office the day before sidled over. "What's wrong, Ms. Lane?"

Chloe looked up at the sympathetic, freckled face, and managed a weak smile. "Just a call from a very unhappy editor-in-chief. Nothing to worry about—unless I plan on staying at the Planet after this week."

The kid's eyes widened. "Oh, wow, that's harsh." He added shyly, "Can I get you some coffee or something?"

She was about to accept gratefully when a caffeine-scented aroma wafted past her nose. Following the scent, she turned her head to see Clark approaching with two steaming Starbucks cups. The boy backed away fast and melted into a file-stacked corner.

"Is that a new admirer?" Clark grinned, handing her the bigger cup. She gathered it into both hands, inhaling the steam. It revived her spirits, as always. "Yeah, he's my new boyfriend," she shot back with an answering grin. "Jealous?"

"Always." Something in the tone of his voice made her look up sharply. There was the briefest flash of emerald in those smiling eyes, gone almost as soon as she saw it.

"So, what's new today? Has Littleman been around to see you?"

Chloe tilted an eyebrow. "If you mean 'Bittleman,' no. Which is too bad. I know you don't like him, but he's a nice guy. You're not my big brother, Clark, quit being so over-protective."

"No," came the soft response. "I'm not your brother, Chloe."

Preoccupied with her recent phone conversation, Chloe ignored the reply. She sipped her hot coffee gingerly and set the cup down on her desk blotter. "Anyway, it looks as though I won't be here much longer to see Bittleman or anyone else. Kahn just gave me a royal smackdown over the phone."

His eyes widened. "Oh, wow, that's…"

"Clark Kent," she glared, interrupting. "If you say, 'That's harsh,' I will throw this coffee right in your face. Not that it would do any good, but it would make me feel a lot better."

He put a very large, very warm hand on her shoulder, and she fought the temptation to lean into it. "I'm sorry, Chlo'," he murmured gently. "What happened?"

"Kahn said she was really disappointed in me. She said—quote—'No reporter ever got famous by agreeing to keep the news confidential,'" Chloe mimicked, capturing Kahn's sarcastic tone almost perfectly. She closed her eyes, but it didn't keep a tear from leaking out. "I never should have agreed to keep Lex's interview private. It's the only story I have, and now I've got nothing to print."

She felt Clark's fingers squeeze her shoulder lightly. "This is a switch," he remarked. "Aren't you usually the cheery one? I'm not sure I can handle this role reversal, but I'll do my best." Turning her toward him, he tilted her chin up and, with his free hand, brushed the tear from her cheek. "Sun coming out yet?" he murmured, with a smile.

She attempted a small smile, which grew wider in response to Clark's delighted grin. "I've still got an interview scheduled with the farmer—his name is Schneider—in Smallville today. Maybe I can get something from him."

"Schneider? You mean old Bo? He and Dad were friends for years. He owns some land near our place."

Chloe raised a curious eyebrow. "I've never heard you mention him."

Was that a hint of a blush rising on Clark's cheeks? This was beginning to get interesting, she thought. "Pete and I used to pick huckleberries on his property back in grade school," he confessed, shamefaced. "He caught us once, and ran us off, yelling that we'd better never come back or he'd set his dogs on us. We never did."

She bit back a giggle. "So, Mr. Kent, your deepest secret finally comes out." She flashed him a twinkling, sideways glance. "Funny, I never thought of you as the huckleberry type. You're more of an apple-pie man, I would've said."

Her friend straightened his six-foot-plus frame, looming over her desk. "There are still a few things you might not know about me," he announced with mock injured dignity. "I'm full of surprises."

"Well," she said, checking her watch, "you can make up for your former life of crime by giving me a lift to Smallville." She looked up hopefully. "An express trip, Kent style? I'm running a little late."

Clark's face lit up. "Let's go out back," he said, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "The alley should be pretty empty this time of day."

As soon as they exited the building, Clark scooped her up so smoothly and quickly that she scarcely felt it. She settled comfortably into his cradling arms, breathing in aromas of fresh cotton mixed with the sharp scent of cut grass. Tucking her head under his shoulder and clutching the folds of his plaid shirt, she gave him a brief nod, and they took off.

She'd experienced Clark's unique way of traveling once before, but she'd been too numb from the cold in Jor-El's Arctic fortress to remember much about it. This time, alert and unafraid, she rested against the reassuring bulk of Clark's broad chest and watched the world melt away around them. It seemed to Chloe that, for a few precious seconds, they were standing still in their own private universe, wrapped in a cocoon of warm silence. The only sense of motion came from the wind, which whipped her hair into a dark froth while endless images fast-forwarded by.

It was over almost before it began. Too soon, they slowed down—or "reappeared," Chloe thought—in front of the Kent farm. She drew a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "Wow."

A golden retriever came bounding out of the barn, tail beating wildly in greeting.

"Hey, Shelby," Clark called out, then began striding toward the front door.

"Uh, Clark?"

"Yup?"

"You can put me down anytime now. I'll be OK."

Clark reddened as he looked down at her. "Oh, um, sorry. I forgot." Hastily he set her down, as lightly as if she were made of porcelain, and steadied her until she regained her balance.

His large hands lingered on her arms a few seconds more than necessary, sending warm shivers through Chloe's body. She gulped. "I'd better get that interview now. Can I use your truck?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd offer to go with you, but…."

"….huckleberries, I know," she finished, grinning.

"No! I just have a few things to do around here, that's all," he protested, digging the keys out of his pocket. "Good luck—and Chloe?"

She had already tossed the pack with her laptop and notepad into the cab of the dusty blue Ford, and was climbing into the driver's seat. "Hmmm?"

"If you need anything, just call. And I don't mean with the phone."

She returned his earnest green gaze blankly for a second, then realization set in.

Clark could hear her, wherever she was. No matter how quiet her voice, or how loud the surroundings. Once, she remembered, he'd even picked out her voice in the middle of a wild sorority Halloween bash. Oddly, it didn't seem to work with anyone else. She wondered why.

"What's wrong with using a phone?" she asked him.

He shrugged, but his gaze remained steady. "Nothing, I guess. But I like listening for your voice. It makes me feel that we're connected."

"Oh," she answered, sternly controlling her emotions. Lana's the one he loves, she reminded herself. "OK."

Farmer Schneider turned out to be a paunchy, gregarious man, his few remaining wisps of sandy hair carefully combed across his sun-reddened scalp. He gave Chloe a hearty welcome but had little new information to share. His tractor broke down in a field, he explained, just as he'd told the other reporter; a stray rock started glowing, and soon the tractor was good as new. He brought the rock home the day of the Big Blackout, and, miraculously, his house was the only one in Smallville never to lose power.

Chloe munched on a homemade doughnut, sipped fresh-brewed coffee, and considered his answers.

"So this crystal shone with a clear light? No green color, like the other rocks? OK. Was the stone still glowing when you sold it to LuthorCorp?"

Listening to her own question, she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Only in Smallville, she thought, did glowing stones come in an assortment of rainbow colors.

Schneider, however, took the question seriously. "Nah," he answered in a disappointed voice. "Stopped shining right after the day of the Blackout, in fact. But it was the weirdest thing I ever did see, I tell you that. Makes me wonder what else might be sitting out there in my fields. Damn' meteors—'scuse me, Miss."

"No problem," she smiled back. "Speaking of fields, where exactly did you find this stone, Mr. Schneider?"

She listened to his answer, scribbling a few notes. Then, after inspecting his tractor and finding nothing remarkable, she turned to leave, thanking him for his time and the doughnuts.

Just before she climbed into the truck, a sudden wicked impulse made her stop. Grinning, she called back to him, "By the way, Clark Kent wanted you to know he's sorry about those huckleberries."

The farmer chuckled. "I noticed you're driving the Kent truck," he remarked. "Your boyfriend, is he? Well, tell him no hard feelings." A broad, knowing smile spread across the cheery face. "In fact, if I remember right, there are plenty of berries out right now in that field you're interested in. Help yourselves, kids. Have a good time."

A few minutes later she was pointing the truck back toward the Kent Farm. "Clark," she murmured softly. "I know you can hear me. Just follow my voice." The wicked grin returned. "I want you to help me pick some huckleberries."

………………

They really needed to start searching the field soon, Chloe told herself, as she finished her seventh handful of juicy dark berries, eagerly licking the remnants off fingers stained inky blue. The sun was getting low, and they hadn't gotten farther than the huckleberry bushes. But she'd never imagined fruit could taste so good.

She and Clark had spent the last half-hour happily picking their way through a tangle of the bushes, sampling from each one as they wandered up and down the sunny slope on the edge of Farmer Schneider's pasture. A narrow, winding creek at the bottom of the hill shimmered like a silver ribbon in the late afternoon sunshine.

Chloe wiped drops of juice from her hands and peered at the darkening sky worriedly. "Clark!"

When there was no answer, she scanned the slope, finally catching a flash of plaid in the middle of the biggest thicket, near the banks of the creek. A jeans-clad figure was half-submerged in a mass of berry-laden branches, obviously too absorbed to pay attention to anything else.

Sighing, Chloe plucked a large, green berry and took careful aim. The hard little orb bounced off the figure's backside, and Clark's head popped up out of the top of the bush, setting off a cascade of cracking branches and scattered leaves.

"Hey! I nearly spilled my whole bucket!" he protested, while Chloe laughed.

"From all that blue juice around your mouth, I'd say that most of those berries didn't make it to the bucket," she observed dryly. "I guess aliens are addicted to huckleberries. Who knew?"

Clark shot her a look while he hastily dusted himself off. Meanwhile, Chloe threaded her way down the slope towards Clark, stopping at the creek's edge.

"It's getting late, and we still need to look over this field," she noted. "And," she added, a little too innocently, "you look like you need some help getting cleaned up."

Swiftly, she bent down, thrust her hands in the cold, clear running water, and sent a glittering shower over Clark, who yelped in surprise.

"Big baby," she giggled, "You don't even feel the cold."

Clark shook off, sending drops of water and stray leaves flying everywhere. Then he narrowed his eyes at Chloe dangerously.

She took a step back. "Uh-oh," she muttered, as her former victim approached slowly, like a lion stalking his lunch.

Her desperate backwards scramble was interrupted when her heel struck against a large rock. Panicked, she grabbed at the air as her feet slipped out from under her, tipping her over towards the sharp rocks in the creek bed.

Before she had time to scream, strong arms caught her, holding her securely, high over the ground. "Sorry," Clark apologized mildly, the glint in his green eyes replaced with concern. "Are you alright?"

She nodded shakily, managing a weak laugh. "I guess that'll teach me not to start interplanetary water battles."

Her laughter died as she peered up to see that Clark's expression had changed. His gaze locked on hers, giving her a sudden, dizzying sense that she was losing her balance all over again. Slowly, his face dipped closer, and she felt his warm, coffee-scented breath on her cheek.

Hesitantly, Chloe laced her arms around his neck, drawing him down further, until, in a movement as natural as breathing, their lips met softly. He tasted like berry juice. Chloe deepened the kiss.

Chloe decided she loved huckleberries.

Finally, after what seemed like a too-short eternity, Chloe pushed away, breathing hard. Lana, she reminded herself again. He loves Lana.

"I think we'd better start searching the field." Even to her own ears, Chloe's voice sounded harsh. She didn't dare look at Clark.

At once he gently set her on her feet, and she began marching up the hill.

"Chlo'," she heard him calling from behind, "we need to talk."

"Later, OK?" Chloe yelled without turning back. She reached the top of the hill and stepped out into open pasture, wading into tall grasses silhouetted by the late-afternoon sunshine.

She knew it was pointless to try to get away from Clark, but right now she didn't care. Ignoring all her hard-won knowledge about cow patties and other pasture hazards, she ran far out into the field, all the while scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing was visible except seemingly endless grassland, dotted here and there with rocks and more bushes. But as she wandered deeper into the meadow, she had an uneasy sense of déjà vu, which grew stronger as she continued forward. She stopped at last at a place where tire tracks had flattened a path through the grass.

With a start, she realized where and when she'd seen this place before. It was that very morning, at Cadmus Labs, looking at the photos Lex had handed her. This hadn't been in any photo, though; she'd seen it in her mind, one of the many images that had blended together as she stared at those pictures of the missing crystal.

Almost directly in front of her, where the tire tracks ended, a jagged hole gaped in the ground. She realized immediately that this must be where the farmer found his glowing rock. And she'd run straight to it, without any conscious idea of where it was located.

It's as if I have some sort of connection to this crystal, Chloe mused. But why?

As if triggered by that realization, the stream of images came flooding back, orders of magnitude brighter and stronger than before. They dominated her waking eyesight, crowding her brain to the point of overload. Moaning in pain, Chloe tried to block the bombardment, but failed.

Once again, she could make out only a few: A strange room; the LuthorCorp skyscraper; the pasture she was standing in; a small ship exploding into a shower of glittering green rocks; the same ship crashing in a cornfield; and an ice-white city reflecting the red of a strange sun.

Just as the images seemed to go dark, she saw a small, spinning ball of fire burning in blackness. As she watched in horrified fascination, the ball grew into a bloated mass of red flames before it shrank, gathering into itself. Then, in one deafening release of energy, the ball burst apart, filling her mind with endless waves of searing flame.

The last thing Chloe remembered hearing before she lost consciousness was the sound of her own screams.