Clark sat on the bench as he did every day, waiting for her. He was always aware of her before he saw her, and knew where she was at any time no matter where in the world he was. If asked to describe how or why, he wouldn't be able to explain it. His senses were so tuned in to her: the sound of her heartbeat and footsteps, her scent (vanilla, cinnamon and coffee), all of it was as natural to him as breathing is to a human. He could have easily always been tuned into her voice, but he knew better than that.

As he waited, he recalled the day he'd truly given his heart to her. He'd seen her walking through the park shortly after his return to Metropolis and recognized her in an instant and had been struck by her beauty. She had grown into the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he had instantly fallen totally and completely in love with her. The affection he'd felt for her when they were teenagers paled by comparison.

She had just left the building where they both worked, and was on her way into the park across the street to eat her lunch. He turned and was rewarded with the sight of her as she walked toward her favorite spot. He sat quietly ate his lunch, and watched as the same scenario played out every day…

She always sat on the same bench, read a book, ate her lunch, and fed the wildlife that waited patiently at her feet. The sun glinted off of her hair, giving her an almost angelic look, and he chuckled as he heard someone across the park say she looked like Briar Rose from Disney's Sleeping Beauty. (Okay, so he was listening but he always listened to Metropolis. He heard everything. He protected them.) He watched as she tossed another crumb to the waiting squirrel, smiling as it scampered over to claim its prize. It even went as far as to sit at her feet and look up at her, and was rewarded with another morsel.

The amazing thing was that she was totally oblivious to the effect she had on everything around her; not just here at the park, but everywhere she went: Women hated her for her natural beauty, grace, and talent, and silently hated her, for they had to work like fiends to achieve 1/10 of what she was. Men would stare openly at her with lust and desire easily readable on their faces, and would sometimes actually trip or run into things, so distracted were they by her. Rage would seethe through Clark at the thought of another man touching her, and it was all he could do to stay put on his bench and do nothing. (Though, he had to admit, they sometimes tripped because of a few well-aimed super-breaths.)

She closed her book, and lunch was over. She stood, brushed the last few crumbs off her lap and headed back into the Daily Planet. As she headed toward him, his heart soared in the hope she'd finally recognize him… and sank as she walked past without stopping, or looking…nothing. Clark sighed as he realized yet another day would pass and yet again he was unable to approach her. He watched her enter the building and heard her take the elevator up to her corner office, where her latest article waited.

He stood and looked around at the city he loved, wishing once again for the courage to arrive tomorrow. He walked back into the Daily Planet, and took the elevator down to the basement where his desk waited, content to wait until tomorrow, when he'd be on his bench, waiting for her with the others who loved her.