'Immature love says: "I love you because I need you."

Mature love says: "I need you because I love you."'

Erich Fromm

"$1.5 billion! $1.5 billion on an initiative that isn't even working. The government spends $1.5 billion on tackling vandalism and what happens? It increases by 48!" Pete leant back smugly into the cosy couch, Lana snuggled against his side. "We've got 'em on that one." He smiled.

"Wow," Chloe laughed with feigned interest, as she sat curled up on the armchair. "So, just how much have they spent Pete?"

The male member of the group just glared as the two women giggled. "And I mean, you're telling me this why exactly?" Chloe continued.

"Because apart from politics he has nothing else to talk about." Lana mocked, snuggling farther into Pete's side.

"Well, I could talk about the two escaped hyenas that have somehow ended up in my living room." Pete said with annoyance. "Besides, I have lots to talk about."

"Oh yeah?" Lana challenged. "Like what?"

"Well, how about my marvellously attractive wife-to-be?" Pete joked, pulling Lana in for a fiery kiss. "Would you like that?" He asked off Lana gracious smile.

"I think I preferred politics." Chloe remarked.

"Oh, alright." Lana made a set of puppy dog eyes. Chloe just stuck her tongue out.

"How old are you Chlo?" Pete chuckled. "25 going on 6?" Chloe just snorted. "I'm sorry," He resumed. "I guess politics can be a bit dull if you're not involved."

"Don't be." Lana cooed, stoking his face. "Besides," She said, more cheerfully. "Politics is so instrumental to everything now-a-days, if you're not involved in it, what are you involved in?"

"And, to be perfectly honest." Chloe piped in. "I for one am all in favour of a bit of dullness. There's only so many times a girl can be buried alive, thrown off a tall building or experience any other number of near death experiences, before she starts liking the idea of a bit of dullness." She laughed. "I think I'll just leave the non-dullness to the experts."

"Speaking of experts, has anyone heard from Lois or Clark?" Pete said, joining in on the joke. " I wonder what time their flight came in."

"Oh, yeah." Chloe suddenly remembered. "I got a text off Lois a few minutes ago. I don't know why she still insists on using correct spelling and punctuation in her texts, I mean it's not like she can spell any…" Off Pete and Lana's unimpressed looks, "…But that's not important." She resigned. "All she said was, "Plane just landed. Missed first one. Bloody Smallville. Will kill in morning, need sleep now."" Chloe grinned. "Now that's a fight I wouldn't want to get in the middle of."

"Yeah." Pete laughed. "Best part is, Lois would win." Chloe started laughing as well. Lana just sat in thought.

"Ha, eh… What's up Lana?" Her blonde friend asked when she realised that the attractive brunette wasn't joining in with the merriment.

"It's nothing really." Lana sighed truthfully. "I just think Lois could be a bit more accommodating." She admitted.

"It's not her fault." Pete said light-heartedly. "Remember before we all found out? We didn't half get pissed by Clark's sudden disappearances."

"I waited one hour once for him to get back from gabbing a coffee." Chloe remembered with a smile. "One hour! Turns out he was trying to saving Lex from a… er…" Chloe fell silent. Lana and Pete's heads had drooped.

"Funny how much things can change." Lana sighed. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually Pete stood up. "I'm gonna call it a night." He said, stretching. "Don't want to be falling asleep at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Not to mention I have to give Harry a ring, brief him on tomorrow's council." He turned to Lana. "Coming Sweetie?"

"Not just yet." She answered. "I think I'll go do those dishes, don't want to leave them until the morning." She picked herself up and walked into the kitchen.

"Right. What about you Chlo?" Pete asked, turning to his guest.

"Yeah, think I'll call it a night." Chloe said, getting up.

She hugged Pete goodnight and walked up the stairs. She tip-toed past Laura's room and crept into her own, makeshift bedroom. It was only when she had heard Pete close the door on his and Lana's bedroom that she allowed herself to register the look of regret on Lana's face.

"Is it just me, or does Smallville seem, smaller?" Lois remarked as she stepped out of the taxi.

"Typical city-girl." Clark sighed as he paid the diver, who just gave him a sympathetic smile and drove off. Clark laughed silently to himself and went to stand next to Lois on the Kent farm drive.

"It's more, yellow than I remembered." Lois observed. It had been over three years since she'd last seen the little farm, and, despite herself, she was glad to be back. She felt safe in Smallville, the sort of safe feeling she only felt in one other place, and that was in the arms of- No, she was leaving Metropolis and all its troubles well away for the weekend. She was going to be a good, attentive bridesmaid, with no problems of her own to distract her.

Like Hell.

The porch light flashed on and a familiar figure appeared rushed down the pathway towards the young couple.

"Clark." The figure cried as she pulled her son into a loving embrace.

"Hey Mom." Clark laughed slightly taken aback.

Martha stepped back and looked her son up and down. "Honey you look thin, are you eating probably. You're not stressed are you. I told you not to work to hard. If that Perry White's working you too hard you just tell him, he'll have me to answer to. I'm not having any son of mine…"

"Mom, mom," Clark cut her off before she suffocated. "I'm fine. You remember Lois?" He nodded in the younger woman's direction, so that Martha could turn around. As she did, a kindly smile graced her face and she rushed over to the intrepid reporter, taking her in another warm hug.

"Remember, how could I forget? Lois, it's so good to have you back."

"It's great to be back Mrs. Kent." Lois gasped breathlessly; Martha was a lot stronger than she looked.

"Don't be silly dear, it's Martha. We're all adults here." Martha answered.

"Mom."

"Yes Clark?"

"Let Lois go." Clark smiled as he noticed that Lois was slowly turning red in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lois." The older woman beamed at her younger counterpart.

"Don't worry about it Mrs. Ken…Martha." Lois shrugged. "I've had worse, trust me, it's nothing."

"Right, well." Martha continued, heartened. "We can't stay out here all night, waiting to catch our deaths. Clark, you bring those bags in. Lois, come on dear, we'll go in and get something warm to drink."

"I like the sound of that." Lois smirked, flashing a wicked grin at Clark. "What about you Smallville?" She called as her and Martha headed towards the house. Clark just smiled impenitently after the brunette.

Clark set Lois' suitcase down at the bottom of the stairs and headed into the kitchen and the enticing aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.

Two familiar laughs greeted him: one sweet and chirping, one tantalizingly magical.

"…So there's me and Jimmy, the whole building crashing down around us, and I'm like frantic looking for an exit and Jimmy turns round to me and says, 'do you think I should go for colour or classic black and white?' And I'm like, 'no Jimmy just no, complete wrong end of the stick. I'm not really that interested in you stupid photo just at this moment in time.'"

Martha let out another fit of laughter. Clark leaned on the doorframe and smiled. No matter how many times Lois told this story she always held her audience captive.

"Anyway, he got bonked on the head after that so denies the whole thing ever happened." Lois finished with a flutter of her hand. The older woman smiled cheerfully.

"I'd have thought you'd get tried of telling that tale eventually." Clark said as he went to join the rest of the group around the kitchen table, eyeing Lois' chocolate biscuit as he sat down next to her, the last one.

Lois grinned menacingly and started sucking the chocolate off the biscuit, agonizingly slowly, obviously trying to incite some retaliation from Clark. It worked, as Clark playfully made a swing for the biscuit, which Lois mischievously evaded. She giggled as Clark made another pass for her beloved cookie and as she masterfully dodged it once more.

Martha grinned an all-knowing grin as she looked at the young pairing. Lois had just successfully stuffed the whole biscuit into her mouth, much to the amusement of Clark.

Martha set her cup down and smiled. "I'm so glad you two have finally gotten together."

"Huh?"

"What?"

Martha looked between the two bemused young. "Well, I just thought. From what I'd heard, I mean, you two are a couple aren't you?"

"What? Oh, no Martha. Me and Clark are just friends." Lois said, too light-heartedly for Clark's liking. Just friends, of course. Why would we be anything else? He sighed solemnly.

"Well, it's just from Clark said." Mom-Kent began before she was cut off.

"Why, what did Clark say?" Lois asked, sliding an inquisitive look to her partner.

"Nothing." Clark said firmly, the look on his face telling his mother that this was a no-go area. Unfortunately, Martha was buying into this theory.

"What's he not said? Let's see. Well there's how smart you are, and talented and funny and such a good writer. And he told us all about the work you did down at the hospital in the children's ward, and getting the city to build all those shelters. Oh, and of course how good looking you are." Martha smiled reassuringly at the younger woman. Lois could feel the hot blood flushing her cheeks. Clark had merely resigned his head to his hands.

"But I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that." Martha smiled apologetically at the two and then headed up the stairs, leaving Lois and Clark to their own uncomfortable silence.

"Well, your mom's right about one thing." Lois remarked after a while, eager to break the tension.

"What's that?" Clark inquired, lifting his head up.

"I am an uncommonly good person." They both managed an embarrassed smile. This would never do, Lois couldn't stand feeling embarrassed, and it certainly wasn't fair to Clark either. "Just out of curiosity Smallville," She said teasingly. "How good looking? On a scale of one to Wonder Whore."

"Those Amazonians have nothing on you." Clark grinned. Contented that the awkwardness had passed Lois leapt to her feet. "That's good enough for me." She exclaimed. "Well, this wonderfully attractive, talented woman is heading off to bed." She yawned. "You headin' for the couch?"

"In a bit." He answered. "Night Lois."

"Night Smallville." She called over her shoulder as she strolled up the stairs.

The congregation sat, gathered in the main assembly hall. Like the rest of the building, the walls were stark and white and those who sat within them were of similar attire. Grey for those not yet fully purified, white for those who were.

Colour was forbidden, as were the emotions reared by it. Purity was all that was reared here; the rejection of Evil and Temptation and the embracement of the Good and Virtuous.

These were the beliefs held by the Sons of Liberty, a cult of the highest puritans who regarded pleasure as more than just suspect. To them the simple joys of modern society seemed more like blasphemy, distancing the human soul from its divine maker.

The more sordid aspects of contemporary culture was treated with such dissent that it broke the boundaries of language.

This was their way, and they met to confer about how to make it the way.

Clark lay half awake on the living room couch. As much as he tossed and turned sleep just would not come. At six foot four, he had more than outgrown the old settee years ago, but it wasn't this that was keeping him awake. Only the ceiling separated him and Lois, and that fact was driving him mad.

It wasn't her fault of course, Lois had been perfectly happy with renting out a hotel room, but Martha just wouldn't have it, she'd insisted that Lois come stay with them while she was in Smallville. And so, just like old times, Lois was sleeping in Clark's room, Clark having been relegated to the living room couch. But now, unlike old times, it was taking every ounce of will in Clark's being to stop him looking up through the flimsy floorboards and gazing at her as she slept. Well perhaps gazing wasn't the right word. She'd be wearing that old tartan shirt she had commandeered off him all those years ago. The one that, when worn by Lois Lane, made the Man of Steel fell like a nervous schoolboy. Just one glimpse underneath that shirt, that's all it would take to settle him. No one would ever know that the champion for righteousness was no better than a…

Shameless stalker, Clark resigned himself to thinking. No, it was Lois' choice as to who got to look under that shirt, even if by her own admission, she often made the wrong choice.

He rolled over onto his side. At least the night had pasted without event, which was one thing to be grateful for, although, the distraction would have been welcomed. Clark closed his eyes, and tried to locate a familiar rhythm, but it was not where it should be. Lois's heartbeat wasn't coming from his room, it was coming from…

"Smallville, you awake?"

He opened his eyes and looked up. Lois was standing over him; her hair ruffled, her shirt crinkled, her presence divine. Clark sat up, throwing aside the sheet, only to remember himself.

"Yeah," He answered sleepily. "You seen my glasses?" A motor biking accident in Kazakhstan had made eyewear compulsory. Clark pretended to be looking for the glasses in question, forcing himself not to ogle at Lois, when a sudden thought struck him. Upstairs, bathroom cabinet. Bugger.

Lois meanwhile sat down on the couch next to Clark, her arms folded protectively across her chest. "You won't need them." She sighed. "I just want to talk."

"Okay." Clark answered, thankful for the darkness. "What about?"

Lois was playing with the buttons at the bottom of her shirt, drawing Clark's eye line progressively down. She looked up suddenly, staring Clark straight in the eye. Her lips curved into a seductive grin. "Us." She breathed.

Suddenly she was on top of him like a flash, kneeling over his waist, pinning him to the settee. She leaned down so that her chest was pressed against his. "We've been doing this dance for too long." She said alluringly, as her hands found their way under his t-shirt. The protest Clark was about to launch never made it past his lips as Lois' hands brushed over his chest, his strong muscles tingling at the sensation of her flesh on his.

"Lois, I really don't think-"

"Don't think Smallville." She teased. "Just do."

There was nothing he could do; Lois had hindered him in a way that no amount of Kryptonite could ever imagine. But she was determined to do more. Her hands slipped down from his chest, down to the waistline of his sweatpants, and began tugging them down. "This isn't fair." She moaned. "You get pants and I don't."

She soon evened out the inequality, smiling at the obvious effect she was having on Clark. She brought her hands up over his muscular thighs, as she leaned up closer to his face, placing small kisses around his strong jaw line. As their lips met, she allowed his tongue to slip into her mouth.

Then, suddenly Lois let out a wonderful moan of ecstasy as she felt Clark fulfil her. "I love you Clark Kent." She gasped.

"I love you Lois Lane." Clark breathed into her mouth, as his hands in turn found their way underneath her shirt.

So, this was what perfect bliss felt like.

Lois felt herself float. She whispered. "I love you Kal-El."

Huh?

Clark's eyes shot open, as he fell six feet down onto the settee. He caught himself just in time to ensure that the couch didn't shatter on impact. So much for just a phase. Clark sighed as he spun himself round and came to rest on the edge of the settee. Only a dream. Dejected, he let his head fall into his waiting hands. But it had seemed so real. Her eyes, her touch, her smell. He sighed again. "I need some fresh air." He threw the blanket onto the couch and headed outside.

The helicopter dangles ominously from its wire net, the cables hooked around its struts like black snakes around a branch. In the ferocious wind, the large, metallic body crashes against the side of the building it hangs from.

Rain lashes down as the hassled police try to clear the area below; the cable won't last long.

Inside the pilot lies unconscious, his only passenger held in by her seatbelt alone. She looks down her side to the street, terrified but determined. Not for her a plummet to the death.

She looks up past the unconscious pilot to the edge of the roof. She has one chance. She unbuckles her safety belt and, slowly, tries to crawl over him. Despite her efforts, the movement causes the helicopter to shift its position. With a sudden lunge, it flies down twenty feet, until the final cable twangs it to a halt. Sparks fly. It holds together by a thread.

The woman tumbles back with the movement, falling out the door. She grabs her unbuckled seatbelt at the last minute.

Below her, the crowd screams as she dangles from the copter, holding on to her seatbelt for dear life. Her eyes closed, she mouths a silent prayer. The helicopter suddenly lurches once more.

The wire snaps; the copter falls. Her eyes welded shut she doesn't scream, her stubborn morals holding out until the end, she merely resigns herself to the waiting ground.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the falling sensation stops. A strong arm embraces her, holding her close, not daring to lose her. Then, a potent voice awakens her. "Don't worry, I've got you." It says.

She dares to open her eyes, unable to comprehend if she is still alive. The rain on her face tells her she is. But the face she is greeted by angelic in its righteousness, godlike in its power and comforting in its presence. A face she is sure she knows, but from where she cannot think, like a memory in a dream.

She shows her relief, her delight and her immeasurable thanks in the only way Lois' mind will allow.

"You've got me? Who's got you?"

Clark smiled at the memory as he stood by the barn window. Outside the stars glistened comfortingly on the last son of Krypton, as the full and silver moon shone down on the small farm. It had waxed and waned six times since that night when he had first caught Lois, but the remembrance was still as vivid. The look on Lois face as she had tried to place a name to a face, his own relief when she had failed to do so.

But that was then, this was now. Now he would give anything for her to have said, "Smallville!" It certainly would have solved a lot of problems, the most immediate of which being that Lois truly and deeply loved Superman, but saw Clark as nothing more than a brother-figure.

Well, what else do you expect? He scolded himself. You made her believe you're two different people. You made us believe we're two different people. You're suffering from a Gollum complex. You don't even know who you are anymore.

He sighed and turned his gaze back towards the heavens. Besides him, the old telescope stood unused, Clark found he could see better without it.

He grinned at another memory as his keen ears picked up a familiar footstep. He turned round to face Lana just as she was climbing the final stairs up to the barn balcony.

Lana smiled sweetly as she realised she'd been caught. "No point in trying to out snoop a snoop." She laughed.

"I'd always preferred professional meddler." He said walking over to her.

Lana caught her breath, she knew what Clark would say next, but the truth was, she didn't know why she had come to the barn this late. She'd never known why. All she knew was that part of her, a big part, still needed to be here. She needed the comfort, she needed the security, she needed the love. She needed the one man who had given her all of that.

"I know it's late." She said quickly, pre-empting Clark's question and causing a small smile of amusement to grace his features. "And I know I could have waited until tomorrow," She continued in a rush. "And that you're probably tired and that Lois is obviously asleep, but it was just so hot in the house and I couldn't get to sleep, and I just started walking and…"

"Lana, Lana." Clark laughed, cutting her short. "It's fine. It's great to see you."

"Oh," Lana sighed, obviously relieved that there would be no further questions. "I mean, it's great to see you too."

They embraced warmly, each taking comfort in the other's presence.

"I'm guessing Pete doesn't know you're here." Clark said as he pulled back.

"Well, not really." Lana admitted, blushing slightly under his gaze. "He has a lot on his mind at the moment," She started to explain. "And I didn't want to disturb him if he's finally having a decent night's sleep. Between the state's plans of legalising corporal punishment and the problems with his mom I didn't think…"

"The state's thinking of legalising corporal punishment," Clark joked, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "You'd do well to keep that one from Lois."

"Yeah," Lana laughed, recognising her mistake. "To think, I've been side-stepping the subject around Chloe and then go and blurt it out in front of Metropolis' top reporter." She beamed up at him.

"Second best." He corrected with a smile, something suddenly not reflected in Lana's face.

"You shouldn't let her make you think that." She said sternly. To sternly for Clark's liking. Years ago it would have been Lana defending Lois from Clark's misgivings, but times change. But that was the strange thing about Lana and Lois, they were friends without really liking each other.

"It's the truth though." He answered plainly. "Lois does actually have to do some investigating to get her stories. And, besides," Clark added with a smirk. "Even if it wasn't true, I wouldn't want to be the one to tell her."

Lana's face remained strangely impassive, as if contemplating something she didn't want to believe.

Finally, she said, "You love her, don't you." She looked up to Clark's face for the answer, it told her all she needed to know.

"I just wish the feeling was more mutual." He sighed, turning back to face the window. "Still, how often does it happen that a person tries to have the best of both worlds and ends up with nothing in either." He laughed sombrely.

"I think she's a fool if she can't she what I can." Lana offered, while trying to hide her increasingly obvious feelings. I still love you Clark. Her mind spoke it, but her mouth didn't.

"I'd like to think she does." He said resignedly. "Just not in the same person."

"Well, if it were me," She softly walked over to him and, placing her hand on his shoulder, said. "I'd rather have Clark."

"I don't even know who Clark is anymore." He laughed, half-heartedly.

"But I do." Lana cooed, taking his head in her hands. "Clark's the little boy who used to stand on his porch and stare at the little girl across the street, afraid to go up and talk to her."

His hard resolve melted with her tender touch. "Her necklace didn't help matters much." He attempted a smile.

Stroking back a curl that had fallen down onto his forehead, Lana murmured softly. "If she'd had know she'd have taken that necklace off years before."

"He still wouldn't have had the courage to go up to her. Trust me, I know him pretty well."

"So do I." Lana answered, taking a step closer to Clark so that her soft body cuddled next to his stronger being. Her beauty in the moonlight was over powering. Her entire body seemed to glow. Her glorious hazel eyes gazed up into his potent blue ones. Her lips looked succulent, tender and safe. Clark suddenly wanted more than anything to kiss those lips, but he held back. More than anything…

"And, I can't help to wish," Lana whispered. She was so close now that he could feel her breath on his lips. "I can't help but wish he'd spoken to me sooner. Everything could have been so different." Her lips were now hovering just below his.

"Yes," He sighed. "It could have." More than anything? "But it isn't." Clark pulled back, and, catching the look of failure on Lana's face, he added. "I'm sorry you wish it was."

"So am I." Lana said. Her embarrassment complete, her eyes starting to water. "I'm sorry Clark." She wept. "I shouldn't have… It was wrong of me to think that…"

"Lana."

"Yes?" She chocked.

He took her in his arms and hugged her as she curled herself into his body, tears streaming down her face. "Clark's not here." He muttered.

"I know." She whimpered. "I just wish he was."

He stroked her hair as she continued to weep, clinging onto him like so many others did. He knew that at one time he would kissed Lana and never let her go. But one time was not this time. He was not that little boy anymore, though part of him wished he was.

"So do I." He whispered. "So do I."

A/N 1: A lot of this chapter is based on a conversation my friend Mathew and myself had. We were discussing the difference between Superman and Spiderman when Matt came up with a very valid point. The main difference, he said, is that Spiderman puts a mask on to fight evil; Superman takes his mask off.

This then is a shout out to Matty, thank you for the inspiration.

Disclaimer: Same old, same old.