Chapter 19 [Smallville Medical Center—Just after Sunset]

Clark walked down the second floor's central hallway. His mood improved after the impromptu gathering that afternoon. While Jasmine's special brew wired him up a little, he'd enjoyed something different. After returning home, he did his chores and ate dinner with a lighter heart. Still he wanted some inspiration.

And when it came to Muses, who better than Smallville's own Poet Laurate?

Maybe Byron knows some sonnet or poem. I just wish I understood more about this stuff. Clark exhaled sharply. He saw that Byron's door was open. They aren't running tests or anything. Maybe he might still be up. He knocked on the door.

"Yes? Step hither and be welcome," Byron bade.

Clark walked into the room. In front of him, Byron sat in his bed. By his side, a yellow legal pad and several pens were ready for use. He could see the Poet and a nurse looking at him in turn. "Sorry if this is a bad time, Guys. I'll come back."

"No, Clark. Please come in. We were enjoying a respite from the Muse's call. You know Sandra, right?" Byron assured him.

"You mentioned her but I don't think we've met." Clark smiled. "Clark Kent."

"Sandra Cooper. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Byron has said a lot about you." She shook his hand.

"He…has?" Clark glanced at Byron. Anxiety and Confusion froze him in place.

"Aye. You're a true friend. You do not give yourself enough credit, Clark." Byron waved him into the room. "You seem troubled."

Clark shrugged. "I just spoke with Lana. At least I can be honest now. She's finding things out. Now though…."

"Lana?" She looked to Byron.

"Clark refers to the barista supreme of the illustrious Talon." Byron grinned. "You have unburdened her heart. You and she want each other. It is truly special."

"Barista supreme?" She seized onto Clark's meaning. "You mean Lana Lang?"

Clark nodded. "Right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope…so. But…."

"But?" Byron quirked an eyebrow. "You fostered an understanding I heard you say."

"She and I talked after I came back." Clark glanced at Sandra. While he wanted to confide in Byron, he didn't know her well enough to say anything more at that point. "I guess Lana's dealing with things."

"So she grows into Understanding's warmth." Byron nodded. "Much like a plant, your relationship with her needs good elements and nurturing. Lana requires a balance. Attention supports her. Space though allows her to spread her wings. Give her that but be ready to jump in when your lady requires."

"How do I know what that is? I…." Clark bowed his head. Exasperation widened the frown on his face.

Sandra cleared her throat. "Clark, I know we just met. Want some advice from the woman's point of view?"

Clark nodded. "Okay."

"I appreciate that, Clark. All right." Sandra exhaled before starting in. "From what it sounds like, you just dropped some big thing about yourself on her. Lana needs to think it over. What Byron's saying is that she needs to wrap her head around whatever that is. She has to figure that out for herself. What that process is for her is for her to decide. I'll admit I don't know her beyond a few conversations while waiting for my cappuccinos at the counter. She also has to respect what you're dealing with too. It's a two way street. Just be patient and let that balance come."

Clark sighed. "She's on me about not being honest and smothering her."

"I remember," Byron recalled. "She made aspirations to you as an 'overprotective friend'. Clark, perhaps you should mind what my nurse fair has said? Give Lana her time. Let Amor work her magic. The day may yet be yours and hers." He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Be patient."

Clark nodded. He wished it could be that easy. Still she had sought him out earlier. She had expressed enough interest to want to be around him. Maybe it was good news. "I'll see how it goes. Meantime how's the poetry?"

"Ah yes! Life's nectar! Inspiration and Muse sing their melody. I am but their servant. On yonder table rests Devotion's harvest." Byron motioned toward the pile of parchment paper on the table by the bedside. "I shall be ready to do my part. Jasmine told me our town's poet from years far gone has returned."

"He and his wife flew back with Lex and me. They're special you might say." Clark thought of other terms to apply to them.

"I have heard the stories about Professor Dubois." Byron rubbed his chin. "I look forward to meeting with him. He helped Lana, our other friends and you. He regaled a past era with his art. Beyond that, I cannot judge him. His is a torn soul. Pain inspires Beauty and Joy. May we help each other."

"Yeah. We can hope for that. I know Mom and Dad are hoping for the same thing." Clark heard his cell phone buzz at him. He looked at it. "Lana?" He answered it. "Hey, Lana. Everything okay at the Talon?"

"Everything's great, Clark. I was hoping to talk in a bit?" Lana hoped.

"Sure! That'd be great. I was talking to Byron. Where'd you want to meet up?" Clark wondered.

"Maybe here? I don't want to rush your visit with Byron. How's he doing?" Lana proposed.

"He's great. We're having a good talk. He's composing away. Can't keep him down," Clark informed her.

"That sounds like him. Well give him my best. Looking forward to hearing him next week. See you soon," Lana concluded before hanging up.

"I'll be there soon. Thanks, Lana. I really appreciate this," Clark expressed.

"Thank you for wanting to talk, Clark. That means a lot to me." With that, Lana hung up.

Clark put his phone back in his pocket. "She's ready to talk."

Byron smirked. "Did I not tell you to trust in Amor's magic? Go on. Your fair lady awaits."

"Be ready to listen and good luck," Sandra chimed in. "It's great to meet you, Clark."

"You too." Clark grinned. Relief washed across his face. He hustled from the room. Once clear of prying eyes, he sped away toward the rendezvous in question.

Anticipation and Hope hung in the air….