Part 8

Clark paced impatiently while he waited for Oliver to leave. Lois left a few minutes earlier with instructions for him to tell Chloe she would call in a few days after she was settled. Chloe wasn't going to be thrilled about not seeing Lois before she left but so far she hadn't been thrilled with anything this evening.

No, that wasn't true. She'd been more than thrilled at finding him alive. Clark tried to concentrate on that moment, the moment she awoke and threw herself into his arms. That was how it should be between them, no holding back.

For a second tonight- or actually earlier this morning – when Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight, he'd been transported back to the dark field where he pulled her from a buried coffin, afraid he was too late. She'd clung to him and he'd held on just as tight, conscious that he never wanted to let her go. It was a big feeling that only got stronger as the Spring Formal approached.

Ironically, the hugeness of what he felt was probably the very reason he'd accepted Chloe's plea to stay just friends. Too much had been happening too quickly: seeing Chloe in a completely new light, grappling with the question of a new uncontrollable power, his father going missing, and the threat of his secret exposed to the world. Every part of his life had suddenly been out of control. Nothing had been happening the way he'd imagined.

When Chloe sparkled and swayed in his arms with her head resting perfectly against his chest, he'd gotten a glimpse of a tantalizing new life where nothing would ever be the same, but when everything else in his life started crashing down, he traded that vision for the comfort of the familiar. Had he been braver, their lives might have gone very differently, but he couldn't rewrite the past. Now he just wanted a chance at a new future.

A door above opened and shut. Clark waited at the bottom of the stairs with one hand resting on the railing and his head down, putting off for as long as possible what he would read on Ollie's face. J'onn insisted nothing was decided. Would Chloe choose Oliver? He felt the vibrations through the railing as Oliver descended onto each tread. He didn't keep him in suspense.

"So, that's that. It's your turn now." Clark looked up. Oliver's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'd wish you luck but I'm still kind of fantasizing about slipping on a kryptonite ring and kicking your ass." He smiled stiffly again and shrugged. "Oh, well, never the right accessory when you need it."

Queen brushed past Clark's shoulder, bumping him out of the way and calling over his shoulder, "See ya around Kent." Half way to the elevator, he turned and wagged his finger in Clark's direction, "Actually, let's not for awhile."

Clark absorbed the white strain around Oliver's mouth and the tightness by his eyes and nodded. "If that's what you want."

Oliver dipped his head to the side, considering. "Not too sure about that either right now, but yeah, the don't call me, I'll call you thing sounds good." He turned to leave again only to pause by the double doors and glance back once more. "Hey Boy Scout," he called, catching Clark as he was starting up the stairs.

He turned back to face Oliver. "Yeah?"

Oliver wasn't smiling anymore. His eyes fixed intently on the closed bathroom door on the second floor. He shook his head and then slid his glance to Clark. "You better not screw this up," he warned savagely and walked away.

Clark waited until he heard the elevator engage before he finished climbing the stairs. A short walk down the hall and Clark nervously knocked on the bathroom door with J'onn, Lois, and Oliver's words of warnings playing loudly in the background of his mind. He knocked again when he didn't get a response. After the third time, he opened his senses to confirm Chloe was inside. When he registered the familiar lull of her heartbeat, he didn't wait for permission to enter.

To his surprise, the door was unlocked. It swung open to reveal Chloe, still dewy from her shower, staring as if hypnotized at the misty mirror. The ivory towel wrapped tightly around her body covered only to mid thigh, leaving her creamy limbs exposed and giving Clark an unexpected flashback to an interrupted shower at a remote inn.

He swallowed hard as he replayed the memory in crystal clarity. He could see the welcome in her eyes, the arc of her neck, the discreet curves of her upper body, the luring taper of her waist, the provocative flare of her hips, the elegant lines of her legs and all that smooth pale skin. He felt his temperature rise and a hard tension grip his body. It was all he could do to stop from gathering up her fragrant form and carrying her off, but how could that solve anything?

Still, he was unable to resist getting closer, taking small steps until he was directly behind her. Looking down, he noticed she stood with her arms wrapped around her middle and her eyes squeezed shut. He drew even closer.

Chloe felt Clark's hands slide over her bare shoulders. She didn't have to open her eyes to know it was him. She was attuned to the familiar weight and feel of his touch, could even sense his radiant heat. Her body betrayed her; she needed to keep up her guard but instead, she felt tension draining out of her muscles. She desperately wanted to lean back into his solid warmth, but she didn't dare give in.

She was so tired. All those years guarding her heart wore her down. She didn't know how to go on. It seemed her only defense against a shattered heart was to run before the fractures splintered into a million shards and yet every cell in her body screamed at her to stay and stop fighting his pull. Loving Clark was as natural as breathing. Only with Clark did she find that feeling of security and challenge, of being lost, found, and set free to soar.

But while her devoted heart sang joyfully that he was close and snugly gathered up every utterance of devotion and love, cold reason told her to hide, to protect what was most vulnerable. She wasn't strong enough. She couldn't give in to her desires and hope to survive another rejection without losing the last recognizable traces of who she really was. Already she was almost a ghost. Hadn't she looked in the mirror and watched herself vanish? Why keep pretending? Feeling hopelessly lost but determined to dismiss Clark at once, she opened her eyes but instead of catching sight of another ephemeral image, she saw the unembellished reflection of Chloe Sullivan backed by Clark Kent.

Solid.

United.

Enduring.

She caught her breath. She was saved.

A moment passed and sanity slammed back into her. She stiffened, abruptly feeling absurdly foolish. How could she have let herself dramatize the tiny droplets of water left lingering from her shower? Almost as bad was her overreaction when the mirror cleared. He hadn't really rescued her; he just left the door open. Between the equalizing air rushing in from the hallway and the heat emanating from Clark, he'd cleared the humidity in the small space.

She accepted the rational explanation and yet on another level she felt as if she owed it to Clark to let him have his say instead of just saying a final goodbye. She bit her lip, feeling indecisive. Maybe she was grasping at excuses, trying to find a way to prolong the end. She continued to look at their reflection in the mirror. Did this really have to be the end?

He wanted to talk, so they would talk, but first she needed to trade the towel for real clothing. She was already feeling too exposed without being half-naked. Clark easily agreed to her request and went to wait in the other room. Chloe ignored her twinge of disappointment. She was being foolish again. She needed to let go of this clinging hope, so she dismissed such thoughts as Clark dismissed himself from the room.

She hurried to get dressed; if she lingered, it was only for the few minutes it took to dry her hair. Beyond that attention to vanity, she rejected putting in more wasted effort. She left on the hanger the figure- hugging suit that showed off her personal attributes to best advantage and instead pulled on a worn pair of jeans, a simple yellow tank top, and a comfortable, cozy red cardigan. She nixed make up, sticking to a light moisturizer and lip balm, which she reminded herself, was a necessity after the cold dry air of the arctic and not at all a means to make her lips appear shiny and plump.

Chloe left the safe confines of the bathroom braced for the looks and questions that would inevitably come from the rest of the team. Just what she needed, another level of noise added to the barrage of sounds usually coming from the wall of monitors. Surprisingly though, except for the low hum of electronics, Watchtower was silent. All systems were on standby.

From the landing she glanced around the room; the overhead lights were muted, the computers asleep and the couch vacant with only the half-heartedly placed knitted throw as a reminder of Lois's recent presence. Was everyone gone?

"Clark?" Her tentative question to the room did not bring a response. She frowned. The rest of the team leaving made some sense, but surely Clark wouldn't just leave? Her front teeth dug into her bottom lip. What if he figured out there was nothing left to say? Was Clark already gone from her life? A fist clenched around her heart and she scrambled down the steps shouting his name, "Clark!"

The air in front of her parted and her hair blew back.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked in concern, scanning the room for danger. Chloe felt an unwanted wave of relief wash over her. This wouldn't do. She couldn't get so upset about something that was going to happen soon anyway.

Clutching her trembling hands behind her back, she answered casually. "Nothing, nothing at all." He eyed her suspiciously and she spoke more sharply than she intended. "Look, you're the one that said we weren't done talking and then skipped out." She headed for the door. "If you're just going to waste my time I might as well leave."

"No, wait." He sped around her and stuck out his hand. "Here." He thrust a paper coffee cup from a nearby 24-hour convenience store toward her. "I know Stargirl's coffee was undrinkable even for you. I'm sorry, I thought I'd be back before you were ready."

Chloe slowly took the offering, knowing at least in this case, Clark had no reason to apologize. This was why she had to leave. After talking to Oliver, even though she still didn't believe Clark felt about her the same way she did him, she wondered if maybe she could stay and take what Clark could offer. He wanted to call it love, and maybe love was a part of any friendship, but already she made it about more than friendship, lashing out and reacting without control of her emotions. She should have known better. She needed all or so she was going to leave with nothing. The urge to find a place to curl up and weep was overwhelming but she didn't have that luxury yet.

The armor of clothing hadn't helped. Chloe still felt too exposed and too vulnerable. She needed something to distract her precarious emotions. Searching for control, she stalled by taking a sip of the beverage Clark thoughtfully fetched and found the cream and sugar perfectly balanced within her coffee. She blinked at the stinging sensation behind her eyes and seized on Lois's absence to distract her from a sudden wave of maudlin sentiment. It was only a cup of coffee!

"Where's Lois?"

Uneasiness passed over Clark's face. "She's not here."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Where did she go?"

"To catch a flight to Africa. She said she'd contact you for her stuff once she settled at the Bureau." Clark tensed, as if braced for her anger. She decided he had it right. Better mad than sad. Chloe let all her fears and frustrations amplify the irritation she felt about Lois leaving without a word. Anything to block the real feelings that bubbled too close to the surface.

"Africa?" She scowled. "And you just let her go?" She asked incredulously.

"It's what she wanted."

Chloe shook her head. "How could that be what she's wanted? Everything she's ever wanted is right here." She couldn't let Lois throw her life away. She crossed her arms. "You need to go after her and make her understand."

"She does." Clark insisted. "She overheard about Jor-El redirecting my feelings for you to her. We were done either way, but the switch made it easier for her to walk away knowing there wouldn't be any hard feelings."

Chloe was aghast. "No hard feelings? Walk away? No, that can't be right. She loved you!"

"That was based on a lie. It wasn't true for either one of us."

The corners of Chloe's mouth tugged sharply down. How far apart was the line between truth and fiction? "But you could make it true. Feelings like those don't easily disappear." Boy oh boy did she know that from first hand experience. Chloe turned away and pretended to drink from her cup, but she couldn't swallow.

Clark stepped up close behind her. "No. I can't make it true." His breath stirred the fine hairs at the back of her neck. "I've never been what Los needs in her life and she's not what I need. I need you." He reached for her.

She shrugged out of his grasp and lashed out with her tongue. "You got along just fine without me."

"No," he calmly disagreed, "I was a mess: reckless, selfish, foolish and frequently unkind."

"Oh, well, if you are doing a list, don't forget about your chronic bouts of vandalism," she snarked. He flushed but answered her seriously.

"I won't. Even though I was the one who ran away, I remember feeling abandoned and alone." He stepped closer. "Every time I left my mark, I was telling the world I was there. I needed proof because inside I was empty." He took another step toward her. "I lost you from my life and I stopped being the hero that I was supposed to be."

Her heart was beating too rapidly. He sounded sincere, but she couldn't back down now. "Hardly. You were still out there every day."

"As a duty." He moved to within an arms reach. She held her ground. "I had this hole I was trying to fill and I was doing it all wrong. I went looking to make the bad guys pay. I had it backwards. I should have been searching for somebody to save."

"Kind of a big distinction." She read in his gaze self-loathing and guilt and she wanted to hold him and remind him it wasn't his fault and tell him everything was going to be all right but she couldn't and so she transferred that frustration back at him. "Not surprising though. You're good at blinding yourself to the obvious. Can you even spell subtlety?" At her jab, he looked away, but not before Chloe caught a glimpse of real hurt dimming the light in his eyes. She swallowed. She couldn't just keep hurting him because she was hurting and so she softened her next comment. "But now you know what to do differently."

"Yes and I'll do my best to live up to my destiny, but this," he paused until she looked him in the eye, "me wanting you, isn't about duty."

"Ha!" She barked, regretting going easy on him. Real anger roared back to life. She slammed down her coffee cup on a nearby counter. "Of course this is about duty! You don't want me. You just feel obligated because of our past."

"Obligated? No, that's not it."

She talked over him as if he hadn't said a thing. "Mix that with guilt from the memory wipe,"

"I already loved you."

"and finding out about my ridiculous lingering feelings,"

"There's nothing ridiculous…"

"and you don't really want me, you just think I deserve a prize," she spat out. Clark stopped pleading. His mouth flattened and fury blazed in his eyes. Chloe suddenly worried she's gone too far.

"Then you're not listening to me." Frustrated, Clark grasped her by the hips and pulled her tightly against him. A hard ridge pressed against her. She glanced up in time to see tiny orange flames licking the center of Clark's blue green irises. Her breath caught hard in her throat and heat washed over her as he held her gaze. "You can't say I don't want you," Clark told her gruffly.

She refused to be intimidated. She arched an eyebrow. "Congratulations, you have a hard on. So what?" She pressed her hands against his chest. He tightened his hold on her hips. When he didn't budge, she shrugged, "You cheated death. It's natural to want to prove you're alive. I had a small hand in it. What you feel is just misplaced gratitude." She explained, dismissing his evident desire.

He rolled his eyes. "I've cheated death before. Two years ago the Martian Manhunter sacrificed everything to keep me alive and I promise you," he insisted dryly, "I never wanted to drop everything and make love to him."

"Please," she drawled sarcastically. "As if you ever felt that way about me."

Clark's face darkened. "Stop telling me what I feel. How can you deny it anyway after what almost happened between us?"

Her hurt bubbled over. "Easy, all I have to do is remember the look on your face when you realized I was the one you were making out with." Her eyes darted away. "You couldn't even look at me."

"You think I wanted to stop?" His hands slid up from her hips. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other across her back, his hand diving into her hair to cradle the base of her skull. Crushing her close in his arms, he gently tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes. "I couldn't look at you because every time I did, all I wanted to do was ignore everything but how you tasted. I wanted to close out all the pain and loneliness and stupid mistakes of the last year by loosing myself in you."

Digging her fists into the front of his shirt, Chloe shook her head, but kept her face pressed to his shoulder.

"You're right, no, not loosing myself… finding myself in you, with you." He loosened his hold and lifted her chin so she would look up at him. "I'm still trying to reconcile some of the things I did in the last year, but I don't have any confusion about how I feel about you."

Unshed tears glistened in her eyes and her voice sounded wobbly to her ears. "But you stopped. You didn't want me."

"What I wanted was to do this right." He traced his thumb over the pattern of moles on her cheek. "After everything I've put you through, you deserved so much more."

"I deserved being rejected again?"

He looked stricken. "I never meant…no, Chloe, we were in the Arctic. You were covered in blood, my blood, you just fainted from exhaustion and yet still I barely had enough self-control not to make love to you for the first time in the same room that houses the artificial intelligence that once almost killed you." He leaned his forehead against hers and rubbed the nape of her neck. "I want you, but more than that, I love you. Please, I'm begging you to believe me."

She released a ragged breath. "This isn't fair. I should be so mad at you right now but…," her face crumpled, "I didn't think I was ever going to see you again and now you're here saying all these things and it feels real even though it shouldn't and nothing in my life has felt real for so long."

"This is real. Give me a chance to show you how real," he whispered against her temple.

She took a deep breath and then shook her head. "I can't do this. I can't," she told him trying to push him away. He loosened his arms but didn't let go.

"You can do anything in the world if it's what you really want. I heard you say you loved me. Why won't you let me in?"

She sniffed miserably. "I'm a coward. I'm too scared."

"Of what?" She didn't answer at first. "Is it me?"

She batted at his shoulder lightly, "Of course I'm not scared of you."

"I don't mean my powers but the life I lead, an alien surrounded by unseen dangers. Is that it? Maybe I don't have the right to expect you to put up with that kind of uncertainty."

"You should know me better than that," she squeaked indignantly. "How is it really any different than if I loved a policeman or a firefighter or a soldier? I am so proud of the good you do and you have finally figured out the difference between taking responsibility and choosing to be a martyr. Do you really think I would be so stupid as to throw away real happiness just because of an unknown danger that might possibly affect the future?

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Isn't that what you're doing right now?

Chloe froze and then shook her head in quick denial. "No, this is different."

"It's not." He ran his hands smoothly up and down her back. "I love you. You love me."

She kept shaking her head. "It's not that simple."

"I think it is. Maybe it wasn't before, but it is now. I know I'm asking a lot, but then you've always been the one to give everything you have. You are the strongest person I know. I can't promise our lives will always be perfect, but I know," he repeated it for emphasize, "but I know that I'll never willing walk away from you. I love you. Stay with me."

"I want to." Her heart squeezed painfully. "You don't know how much I want to, but I can't. Not anymore."

"Why? Tell me," he murmured persuasively. "Chloe, my Chloe," he whispered her name, "tell me why." He let his fingers glide through her hair.

The answer slipped out with a deep sigh. "I don't know how to protect my heart anymore."

"Oh, baby, you don't have too. It's my turn now. I'll watch over your heart and I'm giving you mine. Please just look at me," he begged.

Chloe blinked back the tears clouding her vision. They were standing near one of the stained glass windows. Through the clear center panel, she could see that the night sky was almost ready to surrender to the morning rays glowing on the horizon. She glanced at Clark. Every feature was familiar and dear, but he wasn't the same gangly boy to whom she'd first given her heart. Then again, she wasn't the same brash girl who'd stolen her first kiss.

They'd both changed. When Clark let go of his dream for a normal life and started embracing the real hero he could become, he'd lost some of the country boy innocence she'd found so charming. She'd tried to put her teenage self away as well. Her juvenile jealousies almost ruined her life…almost ruined Clark's life too. She'd struggled hard to learn to think before she acted on her emotions, but her prized maturity came with a cost. She didn't know if she could ever be that impulsive, confident girl again.

Would that girl have known what to do now or could maybe she still be the problem? Perhaps a remnant of that leap before you look child still lingered. Could Oliver have been right? Was she letting her fears blind her from finding the truth? Was she running away without all the facts?

Chloe bit her lip. She knew Clark almost as well as she knew herself. She should be able to tell if he meant what he said; all she had to do was look at him without letting her emotions get in the way. She could do this. She had to do this. Finding out for certain that he didn't have deep feelings for her couldn't hurt much more than just assuming he didn't…could it?

She pushed herself to look, really look at Clark. She blinked away the tears that sprang to her eyes. No, he wasn't the same boy. Gone was the innocence but also gone was the naiveté. As Chloe searched Clark's imploring gaze again, she realized she hadn't been paying close enough attention. Like her crossover from youth to adulthood, the changes to Clark came with costs but they'd left him stronger. The apprehensive boy who in his carelessness or cluelessness caused her so much pain had transformed into a determined man, resolute and unwavering.

He meant every word he said.

"Clark?" Trembling with joy, she said his name as if seeing him for the first time.

Clark knew Chloe almost as well as he knew himself and in that instant he understood his world was changed. Deep inside, he felt something shift and ease. He tenderly pulled her against his chest. Her arms slid around his neck and suddenly she was holding him back. For a moment, Clark felt weak and in the next, he couldn't feel the ground. He tightened his arms and in silence, they clung to each other, drifting off the floor past the window just as the first pink streaks shot across Metropolis's morning sky. It was their second sunrise of the day; the dawn of a new life together.