She is falling apart in his arms. Piece by beautiful piece. She is like a doll, broken by circumstances beyond her control.

Clark has no idea what possesses him to pull her to him, but he can't just let her cry. She is heartbroken, and he is the cause of this with his thoughtless questions. The reporter holds her tight murmuring nonsensical words while rubbing her lower back soothingly.

Her frame is small, and yet somehow the feel of her is just right. Clark tries not to think about it, but it is like their bodies are puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together.

Her shoulders shake violently with her sobs. At her behavior, one would think Kal-El had…died just the previous day and not months ago. Although, honestly, he wonders if she has anyone to share her grief. She behaves as if Kal was her entire world and now she is all alone.

Clark thinks about what it would be like to be alone in the world with no one to rely on or help you. Clark still has his mother, and even without her, he has the others in the League always looking out for him. Although, some of them scattered in the wake of his evil counterpart most stayed and fought to bring him back where he belonged.

Did Sakura-El have anyone?

Sakura's sobs slowly subside, and she pulls away from him. He isn't bereft of the loss of her in his arms. Or at least that's what he tells himself.

She raises a hand and covers her face, hiding from him. Clark's hand snakes out and pulls her hand away from her face.

"You don't have to hide from me."

Her red-rimmed eyes stare at him blearily for a brief second before she averts her eyes. Something in Clark couldn't allow that, so he extends a single finger and touches her chin bringing her focus back to him. They stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. Her lips part slightly, and Clark's eyes settle on them.

Clark doesn't know whether or not she recognizes where his eyes have drifted, but he feels his cheeks warm when she slowly rises to her feet. "I'm going to wash my face. If you give me a few minutes, I'll compose myself, and we can begin again."

Clark opens his mouth, but Sakura raises her hand again. "Mr. Kent if you're going to offer to forget this whole thing then stop. I don't mind talking about Kal. It helps a little reliving the old memories. Whether I stay silent or I speak, I'll still miss him and yearn for him. Despite my pain, this is something I want to do. If you would be so kind as to bear with me, we'll get through this."

Clark nods his head, and she slips out of the room.

When she returns, Clark is in his former seat still berating himself for taking her into his arms. He wonders if he'll be able to sleep that night without thinking of how she felt so right. So absorbed Clark is in his thoughts that he doesn't notice her peering at him quizzically.

She has gotten close to him. Close enough for him to touch her once more. She kneels on the ground at his side. She places both elbows on the sofa capturing her face in her hands as she looks up at him with a pair of big beautiful and bright green eyes.

"Are you alright, Mr. Kent?"

Clark blinks rapidly. "I should be asking you that." She gives him a sad smile and rolls her eyes. "Define alright."

Clark watches as she continued pulling herself together. It clues him into something. The serenity she projects is a façade. The woman is the furthest thing from calm. She is holding herself together by sheer force of will. He finds that he admires her determination and decides he isn't going to push it.

He decides to let go of the question of how she told Kal-El she loved him. It obviously distresses her, and while it is a piece of information, the world would like to know about he told her the truth when he said he never goes after anyone with the intention to harm.

Clark reaches for one of the hands in which her face rests. He tugs on it a bit, and she allows it, releasing her face. Silently he raises their joined hands upward urging her to rise to her feet. She obeys his unspoken request and sits on the sofa at his side. Clark feels his heart speed up a little at her action.

"You're quite odd, Mr. Kent."

Clark clears his throat and reaches to straighten a tie that isn't there. "How so?"

"At times you seem almost unbearably uncomfortable around me while at others you appear so at ease. It's almost like you have a dual nature."

Clark gives the Dictator's wife a winning smile. "Are you suggesting I have a split personality?"

"Nothing quite that harsh," Sakura-El says hastily. "I just don't understand you."

"We've just met. You don't know enough to understand."

The average person wouldn't have heard her murmur under her breath, "Is that so?" Clark isn't the average person, but he still pretends as if he hasn't heard her. She doesn't seem bothered that he hasn't heard. Instead, Sakura-El slides a little closer to him and reaches her hand out. He thinks she is about to cup his face but realizes at the last second she is reaching for his glasses. He backs away from her swiftly. He isn't certain if she notices or not, but he has probably moved more than human fast.

To distract her mentally, he clears his throat and changes the subject altogether since he is there to interview her and not be interviewed. He also isn't there to let her know that he, Clark Kent, a reporter for the Daily Planet, is Superman, her ex-husband.

"Um, earlier you told me that Kal-El was a good husband. What was one non-harmful thing that he did that benefited you as a person?"

Sakura bursts out laughing. "As opposed to the harmful ones?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I assume that you're referring to the very publicized situation with Enrico Inzerillo."

The term 'situation' is an understatement. The demise of Enrico Inzerillo and his family at the hands of the Dictator had been a public spectacle. Clark didn't comment, but he knows that Kal-El slaughtered an entire family because Enrico had dared to touch his wife. It was such a cruel and unusual punishment that it sparked a deeper fear of the Dictator within the general populace.

"I'll answer your question, Mr. Kent. But I'll answer your unspoken one first. I first met Enrico Inzerillo the night of my wedding reception…"

"Kal, are we going to mingle with the guests?" Kal turns to her and raises a brow at her audacity. "They came from all over the world just to wish us well. At the very least-"

"They came from all over the world because they knew I'd hunt them down and kill them if they didn't."

Sakura pauses. "That doesn't mean we have to be bad hosts."

Kal stares at her for a long moment before he asks, "Why is it that when I mention killing someone, it never bothers you?"

Sakura thinks about that for a moment. She turns her head and looks at all the guests that surround them. She doesn't know a single person in the room. Truthfully, she doesn't have a desire to get to know them either. However, they are Kal's subjects, and she knows it would be best if they spoke to them even if only a little. "I suppose it's because I'm a bit detached from them."

"And are you detached from me?"

Sakura snorts. "I don't think anyone in their right mind could be disconnected from you, Kal."

The smile he gives her is cocky. He reaches behind her forcing her to scoot forward on the throne she sits upon at his side while he traces her back with his fingers.

"You know you belong to me now." Sakura feels a thrill slide up her spine at his words but forces herself to keep it from being visible.

"You have an unfortunate way of treating me like property." Kal shrugs as if her words are inconsequential. Sakura is tempted to hit him but restrains herself. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that's no way to treat a lady?"

Kal locks eyes with Sakura, and her breath catches. Something in his visage tells her he'd burn her clothes off right that second if he could and show her his way of treating a lady. The room heats up several degrees. "And is the lady in question truly offended?"

She isn't. Especially not when Kal looks at her like that. Talk about needing a cold shower.

Sakura doesn't answer his question and instead rises to her feet.

"I'm going to meet and greet. One of us has to be, what is it that your people say? The good cop?"

Kal chuckles, "When are you going to tell me where you're from?"

Sakura smiles, reaches out, and trails a finger down her husband's arm teasing him with her fingertips much the way he teased her with his eyes moments earlier. "Where I'm from is unimportant. All that matters is that I am where I want to be—with you."

Sakura turns and walks away from Kal aware that his eyes are fixed firmly on her frame. It makes her smile just a little brighter.

a/n: sorry i'm late.