Clark gave Lizzie the space which she desperately needed. He kept himself busy, helping to fix his mom's house whilst Liz stayed with her mother, trying to explain everything that had happened. Ellie had promised her daughter that she would say nothing about Clark and his powers. Lizzie had gratefully hugged her mother, promising her that Clark was a good man and would never do anything to hurt anyone.

She didn't truly know what she could say about that. She did believe her daughter. Lizzie had known Clark longer than she had. She supposed she just feared something which was unknown. Who didn't? Lizzie called Clark to let him know that she would be returning to New York the following day. Her mother had given her some money to help her get a flat, on the condition that she would try to find a job somewhere. Lizzie had agreed, wondering if there would be any jobs in Metropolis. A lot of people had left to find work elsewhere, fearing another alien invasion coming their way.

Clark had told his mother that he would leave Smallville too. He needed to find a job. He needed to be somewhere where no one would question him. Somewhere he could be for dangerous situations. Clark had a gift which he didn't intend to let go to waste. He would keep people safe in Metropolis. Whether it be on a small scale, or a large scale, he would make it happen.

Metropolis took a while to build itself back to the concrete jungle which it once had been. Clark had managed to find an apartment near Lizzie's, often popping round to see her and share Chinese food. It wasn't until one night when he found out about the internship he'd managed to get. He'd done well in the interview, he knew that much. His intelligence couldn't be doubted.

But then he had to tell Lizzie.

"Hey." She smiled widely when she opened the door to see Clark stood there, a pizza box in his hand as he nervously looked at her.

How did he tell her?

"I'm sorry it's still a mess," Lizzie complained to Clark as he followed her into the living area. Her apartment was small, decorated in creams and whites. The kitchen was fairly new with everything that she needed. A small door led to her bedroom and another one into the bathroom. Her sitting area was filled with a bookshelf, holding everything that she had read. She had no TV, deeming it to be a unnecessary expense when she had a laptop in her room.

"Not as bad as my place," Clark said. And he was right. Lizzie had seen Clark's new apartment. She'd tidied most of it for him as he cooked her pancakes. Clark didn't truly know what he wanted doing with the place. He'd never lived by himself in his entire life.

"I don't think anywhere is as bad as your place," Lizzie replied, a smug grin on her face as Clark placed the pizza on her coffee table. Her dining set was still covered in plastic. She grabbed him a beer, tossing it to him before she grabbed a coke.

"How's your day been?" Clark wondered as she made her way back to the sofa. She sat down, pulling her feet from the floor to rest beside her as Clark sat next to her, the pizza box on his lap. She moved to rest on her knees, kneeling before him on the cushions as she ate a slice.

"Tiring," she complained to him. "I managed to drop three coffee pots and an order of waffles."

"You've always been a bit clumsy," Clark reminded her and she rolled her eyes.

"It seems one customer seems intent on harassing me more than often."

"Who?" Clark wondered; his jaw tensing as Lizzie took another bite of pizza. She pulled at her dress, tugging it down her bare thighs as Clark watched her.

"Bill," she complained. "He always does it. I don't think there's anything to worry about. He just enjoys slapping my ass."

"Well he shouldn't," Clark snapped back. "Who does he think he is?"

"It's nothing I haven't had before. Trust me, Clark, men like to leer. It's common."

"It's disgusting," Clark said as she finished her slice of pizza. "Doesn't he know that you're taken?"

"I don't wear my wedding ring anymore," Lizzie said.

The extent of Clark's words rang in her ears as he thought about them himself. He'd never thought of Lizzie being taken before. Not since she told him she was signing for divorce. But then he thought about it. He thought of how the weeks had passed and he'd been with Lizzie for ages.

"When you say taken," Lizzie drawled, taking the pizza box and placing it on the coffee table. "You don't mean James, do you?"

Clark gulped once, looking around awkwardly as he thought of what he meant. No, he supposed he didn't mean James. He supposed he meant himself. They hadn't said anything about being together since they'd both moved to Metropolis. Clark had simply been content to be around Lizzie, doing his best to keep her safe.

"Clark," Lizzie forced his attention back to her. "What did you mean?"

"I meant that...well..." Clark stammered. "I know you're technically not seeing me because we haven't said anything, but I thought...maybe..."

"If you're asking me out then you'd better be quick, Clark Kent," Lizzie taunted him. "You wouldn't want me to change my mind, would you?"

"I don't think you would change your mind," Clark replied with a smirk. "So...would you contemplate it?"

"Clark, I've contemplated it since I was seventeen," Lizzie laughed once, moving her body closer to his as he turned his upper half to face her, a grin on his face as he watched her. "I want nothing more than to be with you; you know that, don't you?"

"I had a suspicion," Clark said, leaning in to kiss her swiftly.

She smiled at him again and moved to rest against his side before reaching for another slice of pizza. Clark dangled his arm over her shoulders, her free hand holding his as she slowly ate. He held his beer bottle in his hands, draining the alcohol and keeping his ears pricked for any sign of disruption.

"Anyway," Clark said after a moment. "I do have some news for you."

"Oh yeah?" Lizzie asked, taking her final mouthful of pizza. "What is it?"

Clark inhaled sharply, wondering how he could tell her what he wanted. She had a right to know where he had managed to find an internship. He didn't think it would work. He had applied for a lot of places, and not once did he seriously think he would get this job. And then the letter had come through. Clark Kent had the chance to be a journalist. He had the chance to write about dangerous stories without being questioned.

"I got a job," Clark said.

"You did?" Lizzie said, sounding happier than he did. She adjusted her body to move, her head looking up at Clark as she rested her head in his lap. "Where?"

"I...promise me that you won't be mad with me," Clark urged her.

Lizzie's brow furrowed as she refused to make such a promise. She smirked, knowing that it couldn't be as scary as Clark was making it out to be.

"Why would I be mad?" Lizzie wondered. "Unless it's the Daily Planet because I applied there so many times." She joked with him.

But the look on Clark's face was so serious that she knew he wasn't joking. He bit down on his bottom lip, looking to the side as Lizzie moved away from him, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

"You didn't," she drawled, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Tell me that you didn't."

"I didn't think I would," Clark replied solemnly. "I saw the internship vacancy in the paper-"

"-So did I," Lizzie replied. "I didn't apply because I didn't see the point. They've turned me down every time before."

"And I thought that they would turn me down too," Clark promised. "But then I had an interview and then they offered me the job. I have to take it."

Lizzie said nothing, doing her best not to be annoyed at the sudden revelation. She shook her head back and forth, a smirk of disbelief on her face as she folded her arms over her chest.

"I should have applied," Lizzie complained. "I've applied everywhere else...but never got anywhere...and now you have the job I wanted."

"You'll find something, Liz," Clark assured her. "I've applied for a load too. I honestly never believe that this would happen."

"No," Lizzie drawled out, forcing herself to smile at Clark. "I'm happy for you."

"No you're not," Clark contradicted, moving to stand to. He walked closer to her, daring to wrap his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Liz...but...this job will allow me to be in places where I can help. I can manage to get into dangerous situations and no one will ask any questions."

"I suppose," Lizzie weakly agreed with him.

"Something good will happen to you, Liz," Clark assured her, bending down to curl a finger under her chin, bringing her gaze back to his. "You're too good for it not to."

"I'm fine," she lied to him. "Listen, you need to do what is best for you. If that means working for the Daily Planet then so be it. But you do know who else works there, don't you?"

Clark took a second to nod at her question.

"Lois," he said simply. "I know she works there, Lizzie. I doubt I will be working with her."

"But...if you are...you don't think..."

"No," Clark promised her after a second, knowing full well what she was getting at. "You don't need to feel threatened, Liz. Lois is just a friend. Don't worry about that."

"It's hard not to," Lizzie complained. "She's an award winning journalist and I'm some waitress with an ass you like to grope."

Clark tried to resist a smirk forming on his lips as he heard her, shaking his head back and forth as he wrapped both of his arms around her waist, running his hands up and down her back. She placed hers on his shoulders, still unable to believe how muscular he felt underneath her grip.

"You trust me, don't you, Liz?" Clark checked and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm just slightly...well...worried..."

"I know," Clark said, fully understanding. "You have no need to be, Lizzie, I promise."

The two of them said nothing for a moment before Clark's ears pricked up. Lizzie sighed, recognising the change in his posture immediately. There was something strange about being around Clark when he went into Superman mode. It was like he was...well...sterner, somehow, and much more serious.

"Go," Lizzie urged him.

It had become a regular occurrence to see Clark rush out from her in an attempt to save some innocent people in the streets of Metropolis. She patted his chest quickly and moved out his arms. Clark caught her for a moment, pressing his lips against her for a second before he stepped back.

"Stay here," he told her. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll follow you on the news," Lizzie replied.

Clark dived into her bathroom and stripped down to his suit as Lizzie moved to her bedroom. She fired up her laptop and found the news webpage, clicking for a live feed of something that was happening. She widened her eyes, noting that LexCorp was the building in trouble. Apparently there had been some form of fire. It didn't take long before Superman was on the scene, dragging people to safety as Lizzie watched him.

She knew that Clark was superhuman. She was well aware that he could handle himself. It still didn't stop the worry which built inside of her when she saw him risking his life by rushing into fire. When everyone was safe it was only then when Lizzie closed her laptop and waited for Clark to return back to her.

She did wonder how long this pattern would go on for. She often found herself longing to know if this would happen every night she was with him. Clark would always put everyone else before himself, Lizzie knew that. She just worried what would happen to him all the time.

...

"The table over there needs cleaning."

Lizzie kept her mouth closed, feigning a groan as she grabbed the spray and cloth. She moved to the window seat hastily, doing her job and clearing the coffee cups.

"Hey, honey."

Another groan escaped her, much more audibly this time. She turned over to see Bill sat at a table with three other men. He never seemed to come in with the same guys. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she moved past the table.

"I'm working." She snapped at him. "And I'm not in the mood for your annoying attitude."

"I can get you in the mood."

"I'll pass," Lizzie snarled.

Ignoring the next lurid comment which came from his mouth was something which Lizzie did with ease as she looked out the window to notice somewhere familiar stood there. He held a bike in his hand, leaning it against the wall and fastening it to a bollard.

Lizzie groaned as she saw him. She didn't need Clark here when her worst customer was. Clark didn't really know how to contain his temper when it came to guys like Bill. She'd seen what he had done when Whitney Fordman insulted her. He wore a checker shirt and jeans on his body, a messenger bag over his shoulder and glasses on his face. That caused Lizzie's brow to furrow.

She filled up a coffee pot and moved from behind the counter as Clark entered the diner. He smiled as soon as he saw her, stepping closer to her and dropping his hand to her waist as he kissed her. Lizzie did nothing for a moment, leaning back after a second.

"What are you doing here?" she wondered gently.

"I finished the first day of work," Clark told her. "I remembered you told me that you finished at six. I thought I'd come and walk you home."

"You didn't have to, anyway, what's with the glasses?"

"Oh," Clark said, remembering he had put them on. He toyed with the frame for a moment, smiling back at Lizzie as she heard someone yell at her to do her job. "Sort of a disguise."

"A pair of glasses?" Lizzie said sceptically, moving to serve the coffee, tossing her head over her shoulder to talk to Clark as she did so. "They look good anyway."

"I thought so," Clark sniffed, running a hand under his nose as he moved closer to her. "I'll take a seat and wait, shall I?"

Lizzie finished filling the coffee up and turned back to look at him, nodding as she did so. Clark's gaze instantly found the racket in the corner and Lizzie rested her hand on his arm. He arched a brow before meeting her gaze again.

"Is that him?" Clark wondered.

"Yes," Lizzie admitted. "Promise me that you won't do anything rash."

"I'm not going to do anything my alter ego would."

"You refer to him as your alter ego?"

"Well, he doesn't wear glasses," Clark said and took a seat as Lizzie continued working for another half an hour.

It didn't take that long for Bill to notice the way Clark was talking to Lizzie as she bent over to clean the table he sat at. She moved away and then Bill moved.

"I'd back off."

Clark dropped the smile from his face as he turned to look at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Her. The waitress. You think I can't see you flirting with her?"

"And how is that your business?" Clark wondered.

"I was here first," Bill scoffed, "I get first dibs. I've had my eye on that one for weeks."

"So she's said," Clark snapped.

A moment of confusion came over Bill's face and Clark knew that he had to instantly spell it out to the man. Apparently intelligence didn't come to him easily.

"Do I need to explain?" Clark wondered. "She's my girlfriend."

And that earned Clark a roar of laughter from all the men by the table. Lizzie looked up from the counter she had been cleaning at the sound of laughs. She moved quickly then, dropping the cloth and resting her hands on her hips. She moved over to stand in between the two tables.

"Clark," Lizzie whispered as he looked at her, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm not doing anything."

"This guy is your boyfriend?" Bill checked, laughing again before he stood up. "I don't know what you see in a dork like him."

"More than I see in a jerk like you," Lizzie replied in a snap.

"Lizzie, baby, you wound me," Bill joked, moving his hands to rest on her hips, drawing her backside to his pelvis. That was when Clark stood up.

"That's enough," Clark warned him.

Lizzie fought in his grip as Clark grabbed her arm and roughly tugged her back to him.

"Says who?" Bill snapped back.

Lizzie shook her head as she stood in front of Clark, her hands on his chest as she stopped him from moving. His glare was focused on Bill as he stood in front of him. Lizzie took a deep breath before she noted the manager move to the scene.

"Is there a problem here?" she wondered.

"No," Lizzie said.

"Control him," she said, pointing at Clark. "And sit down, Bill. I'll bring you an apple pie."

"Not before I show this asshole who is boss around here."

"It's a diner," Lizzie interrupted, "not your castle. Leave it alone."

"Go home, Lizzie," the manager said. "Take your boyfriend with you."

"My pleasure," Lizzie said, tugging on Clark's hand. "Come on, Clark. We're going home."

Clark did his best to refrain himself from wiping the grin from Bill's face as he walked with Lizzie from the diner. Another waitress passed her satchel and leather jacket over the counter.

"You're not going back there," Clark said; his voice stern as he shoved his messenger bag over his shoulder. He took hold of his bicycle with one hand as Lizzie walked beside him, managing to place her jacket over her uniform.

"And what do you suggest I do for money?" Lizzie wondered. "There are sleazes everywhere, Clark."

"Then find a better job," Clark grumbled, his anger still apparent.

"Do you think I haven't tried?" Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I'm trying, Clark, okay? I'm doing my best to find something else. It isn't as easy for some of us."

"So you do resent me for working at the Planet?" Clark checked with her and she stuffed her hands into her pockets, looking straight down the busy street as she walked.

"Maybe," she admitted. "What does it matter? Resenting you won't help me get a job, will it?"

Clark looked at her for a second before biting his lip and running a hand down his chin.

"I can always...well...ask if there is anything going...Lois might-"

"-Don't you dare!" Lizzie snapped at him, standing still and attracting stares. "I don't need pity, Clark Kent. I do not need your help."

"Don't you?" Clark wondered with a scoff. "So you're going to get out of this job yourself?"

"Yes," Lizzie replied quickly. "I don't need help from you, and I don't need help from Lois Lane. I can manage on my own."

Clark said nothing back to her as he watched her vent her anger.

"Just...leave me alone, Clark. Go home."

"Lizzie-"

"-I mean it," she said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "Just go home."

...

She tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to let sleep find her as she checked the clock every ten minutes. She felt bad. She knew that she shouldn't have snapped at Clark like she had done. Her thoughts soon led her to exhaustion and she allowed sleep to slowly claim her. It wasn't until she felt a hand on her waist did she stir.

"It's me," Clark whispered as she came to wake up, her fear dying down as she heard him speak.

"What are you doing here?" she wondered through a hoarse voice.

"I couldn't sleep...well...I was saving more people...but after that..."

"I know." Lizzie muttered. "I'm sorry for earlier."

"So am I," Clark admitted as she turned in his hold. He still wore his suit as he pushed her hair from her face. "I don't want to fight, Lizzie...I just...he pissed me off."

"Swearing," Lizzie observed. "You must be annoyed."

"I'm annoyed that people still treat you like crap," Clark nodded. "I'm worried for you, Liz. I know you can handle yourself, but you shouldn't have to."

"Hm," she agreed weakly, nestling closer to Clark's chest before his ears pricked up again. He groaned, knowing that he had to go.

"Look, we'll talk later," Clark assured her.

"You're going?"

"I have to," Clark replied. "I'll see you later, Lizzie...just...try not to be mad at me for too long."

"I won't be," she promised, still half asleep as Clark stood back up and headed out her room, turning his head to look back at her for a moment. "Be careful."

"Always am," Clark said and left, knowing that he would be back before he knew it.

He flew from her window, completely unaware of someone stood by her apartment block door, their eyes intent on him as he left.