"Chloe, what is it you wanted to show me?" Clark asked as they entered The Torch.

Shutting the door behind them, the blonde sighed. "Okay, so you remember last year when Lana and I got into a huge fight over her invading my personal space?"

"I seem to remember that being the first time I heard the words 'Metropolis United Charities.'" Was that mirth she detected? Not quite the tone she had expected to come with such a statement.

"And I told you, Clark, I've let go of the whole farmboy espionage thing. Though I must admit, part of what intrigued me was that I couldn't find any records of you before the meteor shower. It's like you just… fell out of the sky."

"Yeah, so when are you letting that go again?" Had it not been for the huge smirk on his face, Chloe would have curled up into the fetal position. She deserved that.

Rather than trying her best prenatal impression, however, Chloe laughed. "Just pleading my case before I throw myself upon the mercy of your court," she explained.

"Well, the jury's unanimous," replied Clark. "Not guilty by reason of temporary insanity."

"You!" Chloe punched him on the shoulder, smiling with satisfaction when she saw him flinch before her fist even struck. "Alright, I'll be the first to admit that love makes you do crazy things…." She trailed off, and the smile vanished from her face.

Clark's eyes widened in concern. "Chloe?"

"I shouldn't have said that," she groaned, "I know you're still not over Lana and—"

He pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh," he said. "Let's not talk about Lana."

That was one of those things that Chloe had grown to admire—no, to love—about Clark: his unfailing ability to tell her exactly what she needed to hear. Not that this was true all the time, but just like Clark had literally saved her from falling over the edge on several occasions, he always knew exactly what to say to bring her back just as she was about to plummet to her emotional doom. He wasn't always there when she wanted him, but he never let her down when she really needed him.

"Thanks Clark," she choked out, her voice betraying what she refused to let her eyes reveal. After a quiet sniffle, she was back in action. "But that's sort of what this is about." She slid her chair out of the way in favor of bending over instead. Whether she was conscious of it or not—though Clark certainly noticed—she looked like she was getting ready to be spanked for misbehaving.

'She really is sorry,' he realized.

Chloe, oblivious to Clark's comparison of her to a naughty child, continued: "See, she was snooping through my files…."

And then Clark saw it. A picture of him in a tux, holding a blonde girl wearing a pink dress in his arms, dancing the night away. It had been taken at the Spring Formal, just before the tornadoes hit. Why did Chloe still have this on her computer?

"…and she found these."

'These?' wondered Clark, before noticing the image below the picture: it was a navigation bar. One click of the mouse, and the picture from that day was replaced with another.

"Chloe, why do you still have all these?"

She stood up, looked him square in the eye and said: "Because I still love you, Clark."

He said nothing.

Taking that as the signal that she now had the floor, Chloe continued: "I don't think it's any secret that I've had these feelings for you for a while, Clark. You even… tried to reciprocate that night." She pointed at the photos. "But I was never the girl of your dreams…." Her eyes returned to him, and she stared, praying that, just once, Clark Kent would open up to her.

"Chloe…" he breathed, "why are you telling me all this?"

She chuckled bitterly; she had been expecting him to say that. "Because if I hadn't, Lionel Luthor would have."

His eyes widened. "Are you still involved with him?"

"I'm trying to get out!" she screamed suddenly, not even bothering to wonder why Clark nearly doubled over, clutching his ears. He stood up the next moment anyway. "But you know how it is with the Luthors! He threatened to cancel my Daily Planet column and fire my dad and to tell you that I was acting like a stalker and… and…." She started hyperventilating.

"Chloe!" Clark shouted, gripping the near-hysterical girl by her shoulders. "Calm down. I'm gonna get you out of this. You'll be safe, I promise."

The blonde reporter blubbered something incomprehensible before collapsing into his arms, burrowing her tear-stained face into his warm, broad chest. Clark held her tight, running his large hands up and down her back and murmuring soothing phrases into her ear, telling her that as long as he was here, she would be safe. Eventually the heaving stopped and she raised her reddened eyes to Clark's frosty blue ones. She had never seen eyes the same color as his—but then again Clark Kent was one of a kind.

"Thanks, Clark," she whispered so that her voice wouldn't crack. "I-I'm sorry for everything."

"I forgive you," he whispered back.

And then it happened. Memories of the last year and a half were suddenly shrouded in ether, and the only thing either of them could think about was how familiar this felt—how right this felt. They looked at each other, not as friends, but as something more. Soft wisps of hot air filled the increasingly small space between them, bringing to their noses the familiar smell of mint. Heads tilted and eyes closed and warm lips parted as they relived that night—remembered how perfect everything had been before—

There was a knock at the door.

Two gasps of panic were all it took to suck every ounce of romantic atmosphere out of the room. Clark was the first to snap out of his daze and strode over to open the door, revealing….

"Lana?"

'Of course,' lamented Chloe. 'It's not a party until the girl of your loved one's dreams crashes it.' She looked up, wishing that she could see right through the ceiling. "Why do you hate me?" she whispered.

"Who hates you, Chloe?"

If it were anyone but Clark, Chloe would have found it highly curious that he could hear her whisper from more than five feet away, not to mention know exactly what she was whispering. But she had promised to let it go….

She chuckled innocently and shrugged. "You know, God, Allah, Barney the Dinosaur… whoever it is that's responsible for landing me in this sci-fi soap opera I call a life."

"Well I don't see anyone in felt costumes busting into song, so you can rule out number three."

Everyone but Lana froze. None of them had said that.

Clark stepped away from the door, allowing Lana and the mystery speaker inside.

"Everyone," the brunette announced, "This is Adam. Adam, that's Chloe, and this is Clark."

"How's it going?" Clark greeted and extended his hand, which Adam shook.

"Not bad. Yourself?"

"Well, my eyes have never been better," he answered. "Though they are still a little sore."

"Then I hope you've been seeing some good sights," said Adam.

To Chloe's great surprise—and secret pleasure—Clark gave her a sidelong glance, as though trying to send a message with his eyes saying: "We'll pick this up later."

"Oh, I've been seeing a few." The way he smiled when he said that….

Chloe decided that now was not the time to be making goo-goo eyes and grinning like a lovesick idiot at the guy who was supposed to be her best friend—especially not in front of her roommate, who just happened to have been the object of that same best friend's desires for so long she felt like she didn't have a chance when she was around. She cleared her throat and stepped closer to the group.

"Uh, hi, Adam!" she said to ingratiate herself, extending her hand just as Clark had. Adam, in a move that surprised everyone, raised the hand slowly, skillfully to his face, where he planted a delicate kiss on the back.

Clark was the first to react. "Uh, Adam, what are you doing?"

"Seeing which of you two would react first," he answered, pointing between Clark and Lana. "I also wanted to gauge how close the three of you are. Kissing her hand allowed me to do both." He turned to Chloe. "By the way, kudos on the strawberry lotion. People think it only works on redheads, but it smells great on yellow roses too."

Despite the awkwardness of the whole situation—or perhaps because of it—Chloe couldn't help but smile. "Uh, thanks," she said. "So what are you, other than a gentleman of course?" He laughed. "Where did you and Lana meet?"

"Physical therapy," he said. "I helped guide her through the rougher waters."

"Are you a therapist?"

Adam shook his head. "Fellow patient. Had a beam collapse on my leg five months ago, trying to save my parents from a burning building. They died."

It was then that everyone noticed just how incredibly frank and honest Adam was about… well, everything. It certainly was a change from the evasive, secretive personalities they were used to encountering.

"I'm so sorry," said Chloe.

"Don't be," Adam insisted. "I've moved on. They wouldn't want me to be depressed."

"Well that's good to hear."

Adam smiled.

Lana cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, it was nice seeing you guys. I have to go show Adam the Talon."

"See ya!" Adam called as Lana practically dragged him out of the room.

"Bye!" Clark and Chloe called together. As soon as the door was shut, they faced each other.

"Uh…" began Clark awkwardly. "Where were we?"

An equally flabbergasted Chloe was about to answer when the bell rang. "I swear, somebody's sitting behind a desk somewhere stroking a cat, watching video feeds and pushing buttons that cause these sudden interruptions," she vented, amusing Clark. He smiled. "Pick this up later?" she nearly pleaded.

"Why don't you swing by the farm this afternoon? It's been a while since we hung out."

Her resultant smile was almost shy, a trait that had never been used to describe the (in?)famously outspoken Chloe Sullivan. But then again, she was sort of walking a tightrope here, and the future of their relationship depended on whether or not she kept her balance. Of course, it didn't hurt that Clark had been her safety net so many times in the past. Still, she was nervous.

"Yeah, it has," she replied quietly, another adjective that didn't quite fit her usual personality. "See you then." Deciding that it was best to end it there, she hugged him one more time, wiping the last of her tears on his shoulder before whispering, "Thank you, Clark."

Wrapping his arms a little tighter around her, Clark replied: "Anytime."

And the best part about that statement, thought Chloe as she inhaled deeply, letting the scent of his cologne tickle the insides of her nose, was that it was true.

"Bye," she said as they separated, walking past him and out the door.

"Bye."

Jonathan and Martha Kent sat at the kitchen table, going over bills. It had always been the one low point of the month for them. Money had never been an object between them, but lately they'd barely been able to break even. Forgoing luxury and not being able to support one's family were two completely different realities, and although since the beginning their relationship had always been the former, lately things had been drifting more and more towards the latter.

They hated this time because it was the only time they spent together where they ever really fought. Arguments would start over how the numbers in one column weren't enough to balance out the numbers contained in another, at which point Jonathan would reassure Martha that they had always managed to at least break even before. Martha would then point out that what had happened in the past would not guarantee the future, that even if you drop a stone a hundred times and it falls to the floor ninety nine of those times, you never know if it might fly to the ceiling on the hundredth try. He would then ask her where she got that analogy, to which she would reply, "David Hume," and he would then make a snide comment about her highly educated background and how her father had raised her to be such a high class woman, which would inevitably lead back to a subject that seemed to figure into nearly all of their conversations: the Luthors.

It always went back to the Luthors. Clark was friends with Lex, and Martha had worked for Lionel the year before, which was the only other time in their relationship where the fighting and arguing seemed to be almost constant. Jonathan was convinced that the Luthors were evil incarnate, although to be fair, he wasn't exactly alone in his opinion. Besides Martha, the only person who dared to disagree with him was Clark. Their son—even after learning of his alien heritage, they refused to think of him as anything else—had always tried to see the good in everyone, a trait he clearly got from Martha. Of all his superhuman endowments, the ability to always maintain an optimistic view of the situation as well as the people involved, no matter what the circumstances, seemed to be Clark's greatest gift of all. The Kents sought to nurture this quality in Clark, to ensure that he grew up to be a man who acted for the sake of others as the ultimate means of fulfilling his own desires. It was what kept them going in spite of these fights. The radiant goodness they saw and wanted to protect in their son was what motivated them to keep on living.

But even they occasionally lost sight of things.

"…how you could even stand to work with such a man!" Jonathan was yelling when Clark came in. "To think that he would have the audacity to suggest—"

"And the influence to back it up, don't forget about that," Martha reminded him.

"It still makes me sick that he thinks he could just control a person like that!" he shouted, unaware of his son's presence. "Gabe's worked at that plant for years! To use him as a pawn in some twisted chess game with our son, it just…." He stopped when he noticed Clark. "Oh, hi son," he greeted, smiling.

Clark didn't respond in kind. "I assume you guys are talking about Chloe?" he asked so accusingly it might as well have been a statement. It was his own fault, though—he didn't have to tell them about his falling out with her yesterday. At least now he had good news on that front. He sat down, dropping his backpack to the floor by his chair.

"What Lionel did to her is wrong, Clark," Jonathan said. "Blackmailing her like that—"

"Was the worst mistake he ever made," interrupted Clark, his eyes flashing red as he slammed his fist on the table, thankfully controlling both of his powers enough that he didn't splinter the wood or set the kitchen on fire.

"Clark, calm down!" his mother urged as she rushed to his side and put both her hands on his shoulders, counting on the fact that her relationship with him was far more effective at restraining the young Kryptonian than any other kind of strength.

"Sorry, it's just—she wouldn't be in that situation if it weren't for what happened with me and Lana last year."

"Clark, you can't blame yourself," insisted Martha. It was a sentence she had repeated many times over the last couple of years, but it still held the same value to Clark, who sighed.

"I know that Mom, but I can't help feeling that I'm responsible. I mean, if I hadn't been such a coward and just told her that Lana and I were together, she wouldn't have made a deal with him."

"The choice was still hers," she pointed out, releasing him and stepping back over to stand by her husband's chair.

"That's true, but I still shouldn't have put her in a position to make it."

"Son, you couldn't have known," said Jonathan. "You shouldn't beat yourself up about this."

Clark sighed, still not completely agreeing, but eager to get on to the more exciting matter at hand.

"I do hope you two will be able to patch things up," said Martha.

"Actually," Clark replied, smiling, "She's coming over later so we can talk about some things."

"What kind of things?"

He grinned wider. "We… kinda had a moment today."

"What kind of moment?"

Clark just kept smiling.

"Clark…" she breathed, "Does this mean you have feelings for her again?"

He nodded.

Martha gasped, drawing a hand to her chest and holding onto the counter as though she actually believed that she would faint. "But I thought you were in love with Lana?"

"I was," he answered. "But today with Chloe, I felt something. Something I think was always there, but I never really noticed it after the Spring Formal freshman year. I was too busy with Lana to notice that Chloe still cares about me as more than a friend." He smiled. "And I think I feel it too."

Fully recovered from her moment of shock, Martha rushed over to him and enveloped her son in a hug. "Clark, that's wonderful!"

"There's more," he said as they resumed their original positions. "I think I wanna tell her."

"Tell her what?" asked Jonathan, even though he already knew the answer by the tone with which Clark had announced it.

"My secret."

The Kent parents exchanged a glance. Before they could say anything, Clark continued: "I know what you're thinking. But I finally realized why it didn't work out with Lana."

Jonathan took a deep breath before replying: "And what makes you think this time will be any different?"

"It's different with Chloe," he insisted. "All the meteors have ever done to Lana are make her life harder. She lost her parents in the meteor shower, not to mention she's had half of Belle-Reve after her more than once. And before he tried to kill me, she was the first person to jump to Van McNulty's defense when he started assassinating people who had been infected by the meteors. I don't think she'd look at me the same if she realized that I'm the reason her parents are dead and that all those people tried to kill her."

"Clark, you can't—"

Clark raised his hands. "Let me finish," he said, and his father motioned for him to continue. "But it's not like that with Chloe. She's fascinated by the meteors. She created the Wall of Weird, and she only digs into these people's lives because she's trying to help. And even when some of them did try and kill her, she didn't take it personally. Chloe wouldn't be freaked out the way Lana would if she knew my secret. She'd probably think it's cool."

Jonathan looked at him sternly. "And don't you think that if you tell her this, you'll be giving her exactly what Lionel's been looking for?"

"She won't tell him," Clark said as though nothing could make him believe otherwise. "Not when she knows what I can do to protect her. She won't have any reason to keep digging into my past either if she already knows. That means she's not gonna go off and make any deals like this again."

Before Jonathan could say anything else, Martha spoke: "Well, it's your decision to make, Clark. Just realize that once you tell her, there's no going back. You'd be putting her at risk."

"She's already in danger because I wasn't completely honest with her," he argued. "This is the only way to stop it."

Martha opened her mouth to say something when someone knocked on the door. Clark stood up and answered it.

"Chloe!" he greeted, truly happy to see her.

"Hey Clark," she replied as he opened the door and ushered her inside. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kent."

Martha was the only one out of the pair to respond. "Hello, Chloe," she said as though she were greeting her own daughter. And if Clark was really serious about letting her in on his secret, that may very well be true someday.

Growing uneasy at the intensity of Mr. Kent's stare, Chloe turned back to Clark. "Why don't we go out to your barn?" she suggested; then, not wanting to admit the fact that she was extremely uncomfortable here, added: "We can watch the sunset there."

"Sure," he agreed, secretly wanting to escape the awkward tension as well.

"Be back in time for dinner!" his mother called out just before the door shut behind them. Speaking of which, she was probably going to have to set an extra place at the table tonight.

She turned to her husband, who sat glaring at the space where the two teenagers had just been. "Is everything alright, honey?"

"I just hope Clark knows what he's doing."

"We've raised Clark to make his own decisions, and his judgment is usually good in situations like this," she said, trying to reassure him. "Besides, he told Pete last year, and that's worked out for the best."

"He doesn't want to have a romantic relationship with Pete," Jonathan pointed out as though that made a difference. "He's never gotten this close to anybody before."

"Except Kyla," she reminded him. "She knew his secret and she praised him as a hero of her people."

"And we all know how well that turned out," he snapped, the sudden venom in his tone taking Martha by surprise.

"Are you worried he'll get too close and lose her?"

He sighed and looked up at her, telling her everything with his eyes.

Taking a seat, she scooted up close to Jonathan, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We just have to hope it doesn't come to that," she said. "We both know how devoted Clark is to protecting the people he loves. And with powers like his, it says a lot about the son we've raised if that's what he chooses to use them for. We should be proud that he's made this decision all on his own."

Jonathan sighed again, only this time he smiled. "I know," he said. "And I trust Clark. It's just that sometimes I worry a bit too much for my own good. One of the many things I love about you is that you're always there to reassure me that what our son is doing is the right thing."

"And I love that you're always looking out for him," she replied. "He's becoming a man now. He needs to make his own decisions. And we just have to trust that they're the right ones, even though they might not always be. We can't keep him here forever. He's meant for bigger and better things, no matter how much any of us tries to deny it. We have to trust him."

They stood and Jonathan wrapped his arms around his wife in a hug, drawing her close. "I know, sweetheart," he whispered close to her ear. "I know."

Clark smiled as he heard what his parents said after he left. Being the ultimate eavesdropper did have its advantages.

"What'cha smilin' about?" Chloe asked with an easy informality that confirmed just how close they were to each other.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have my parents," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie. He just didn't mention what had suddenly made him so sentimental. But if all went according to plan, he wouldn't have to leave anything out anymore.

"You really did hit the parental jackpot," she agreed, moving closer to him as they continued to walk side by side. "I can't imagine how wonderful it must be having both of them in your life." She frowned.

It didn't take any sort of superhuman empathy for Clark to realize what was troubling her. "Chloe, your mother didn't abandon you," he reassured her. "She must have had her reasons for leaving."

She stopped walking, and Clark could see tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, there are plenty of good reasons why a parent suddenly decides to drop off the face of the planet. I've been looking for her since I figured out how to read a phonebook, Clark. I can't find her." She looked down.

"Hey," he said softly, raising her chin with his finger. "You will. You just have to keep looking."

She sniffled. "Thanks Clark," she whispered.

They resumed walking. "So where were we earlier?" she asked, praying that for once his answer wouldn't be evasive and mysterious.

It wasn't. "You were telling me how much you still love me."

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "And I was still waiting for you to tell me how you feel."

Waiting for him to answer wasn't as terrifying as she thought it would be. Not when the way he smiled and the look of passion in his eyes gave her the answer she wanted so badly it physically hurt.

"I took you to the Spring Formal for a reason," he said while reaching over to hold her hand, which she offered without hesitation. "I just lost sight of it when you pulled the 'friends' card. Now I'm not blind anymore."

They were just arriving at the barn. It was hard to believe that just yesterday they'd had a massive blowout here that nearly cost them their friendship.

"Well that's good to hear," she replied. "Now you can see me in all my glory."

He raised an eyebrow.

Amazingly, Chloe didn't blush. "Okay, the gutter is so not the place for the mind of the guy I fell in love with," she chided, shoving him. If only she knew that she couldn't budge him unless he chose to move. "Although…." Her eyes traveled up and down the length of his admittedly Olympian-quality body. "You never know; someday I might actually mean it that way."

Kryptonite wasn't Clark's only weakness. It seemed that suggestive comments, especially ones from people he didn't expect to utter them, brought on levels of extreme discomfort as well. But then again, embarrassment was the Achilles' heel of any teenager, no matter what their species. The same blood that gave him such incredible abilities was also what betrayed his vulnerability to sexual innuendo as it flooded his cheeks.

"Let's not go there," he said awkwardly. "We haven't even decided if we're gonna be more than just friends yet."

"I'd like to be," she responded as she stepped up close to him. "If you'll let me."

"I'd like that too," Clark admitted, staring passionately into her eyes as he gripped her shoulders. "There's just something you need to know about me first."

"Oh please don't tell me you're gay!" Chloe howled, and Clark wasn't sure if she was joking or serious.

He raised his eyebrows. "If I was, would I be interested in dating you?"

She chuckled. "I guess not. Okay then, what is it?"

"Chloe, what would you say if I told you some of your research into me wasn't completely without merit?"

"What do you mean?"

"What would you say if I told you that I'm not exactly from around here, that you can't find any record of my being born because where I come from I'm not even sure if they kept those sorts of records?"

"I would say that you'd better stop dealing in hypotheticals and level with me."

He smiled. "Then I have something to show you too."