A/N: Here is the next chapter! My email box has been so quiet the last few days that I had to give it some life again :) The reviews on the last chapter were really great and thanks to those wonderful people who took the time to send them, but I'm still not sure if everyone who follows this story liked it. I think this chapter will put some minds at ease and I think you will all like this chapter. At least I hope? It does have more clarity and it's not quite so grim. Us writers are an anxious lot. Reviews put our mind at ease.
Many thanks to VisAVis2, even though I ran out of time to get her to edit this chapter, her support has been very valuable and appreciated via our numerous private messages. I also would like to thank Claurica who always posts great reviews and Alison too.
That said, enjoy!
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Chapter 19.
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Work, was just what Lois needed and thrived on. Having been a war correspondent had already earned her a certain kind of respect. Which meant she didn't have to work her way up from the bull-pen.
She was working on the floor above Chloe with the desire to become a hard-edged investigative reporter. But being new to the Daily Planet meant she had a while to go before she arrived there. It was a job that entitled her to be thick-skinned. She had had plenty experience with that. She had caused her fair share of controversy and upset a number of people along the way, ultimately paying the price for it.
But she had a fresh start now. Her eyes scanned the newsroom, copy boys ran helter skelter. It was busy, noisy and cluttered. She felt right at home.
Lois had no sooner sat down at her desk when the phone rang.
"There's been a homicide downtown, Miss Lane. I need you there now!" Perry white bellowed.
She scribbled down the address.
"I'm right on to it, Chief."
Hanging up, she felt the familiar adrenalin rush. Whoa, that was quick. Grabbing her purse she made a hasty retreat. That address – it sounded familiar. Wasn't it the seedy tavern she had visited three nights ago? The one she just happened to be arrested at, by none other than Clark Kent himself. She had tried to, rather unsuccessfully, push that night out of her head. But she was only fooling herself. Seeing Clark again had rattled her. It had been – unexpected. He was – different. So was she. Three years had passed by. Life experiences had changed the both of them.
He was all she had thought about this last weekend, which was handy when it came to taking her mind of certain Iraq memories, but not so handy when it came to her heart.
The memories of him only reminded her of what she once had and now lost. Another very good reason why she had to keep busy.
Her heart sank when the tavern came into view, yep, it was the same place. Terrific. It looked like her chickens had come home to roost.
Paying the cab fare, she crossed the sidewalk.
Clark was there, but of course he would be. Just she hadn't expected to see him again so soon.
Taking a deep breath, she approached him. She needed to build up her repertoire of contacts and what could make a better contact than a police officer.
He glanced her way, showing little surprise at seeing her there. She silently instructed her heart to slow its pace down at the sight of him. Her eyes skimmed over his broad shape.
Clark in his police uniform, with his policeman like haircut that looked far too neat. She had a sudden longing to mess up his hair.
Clark with his serious expression and a perpetual frown denting his forehead.
"Fancy running in to you again," she said in a fake chirpy voice. "What a coincidence it happens to be the exact same place you arrested me."
His eyes rested on her press pass. "Lois."
His voice was huskier, a bit deeper than before. He certainly looked very manly in that uniform. She could feel her own body heat up as if it had suddenly remembered the one passionate night they shared three years ago. Oh, this was just terrific.
"About Friday night," he began, but they were cut off by his partner.
"Kent."
Lois recognised him – Steve, or something like that.
His eyes met with hers. "You," he began and proceeded to point a finger at her. "You were the Rambo chick we arrested."
Rambo chick, she liked it.
He glanced at her ID badge. "You work for the Daily Planet?"
"Yep, Lois Lane." She held out a hand.
A look of puzzlement crossed his face as he shook her hand. "So you were following up a lead that night?"
Her mouth opened in surprise.
"Yes, she was," Clark quickly interjected.
Her eyes flew to his face. Why would he lie?
"Is that why the charges were dropped?"
Clark nodded. And then it dawned on her, Clark had somehow gotten rid of her charges from that night – why?
Once his partner was out of ear shot, she cornered him.
"Why did you do it?"
"Chloe asked me too."
Naturally, of course,
"You always do what Chloe asks?"
She barely masked the hint of bitterness in her voice. If Clark had picked up on it, his face gave nothing away.
"She's generally right about most things."
That was kind of cryptic.
"Why - what did she say to make you change your mind?"
He didn't answer straight away and she felt her frustration mount.
"That I'm some kind of basket case now?"
His jaw clenched. "Not exactly."
Okay, so this was really going nowhere and she needed to get far away. The last thing she wanted from him was any form of pity. Though, she had the feeling she probably wouldn't get any.
"There's a crime scene I need to investigate."
She turned away, clenching her hands into fists, annoyed by his apparent aloofness.
"It's not a pretty sight, Lois," he called after her.
She stopped. "I'm sure I'll be able to handle it. You've no idea the things I've seen."
"In Iraq?"
Slowly turning, she raised her eyes to his. Chloe had obviously told him that. She would be having a little talk with her cousin later tonight. You don't discuss me with Clark Kent, ever.
"Yes."
She couldn't even begin to read his expression. He really did mask his thoughts and emotions extremely well. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned away and walked into the dingy tavern.
The scene before her was ominous, the flickering light above the bar didn't help. Two forensic analysts were inspecting the body. She recognised the man. He was the bar tender. He had seemed a decent enough person. Who would want to kill him?
There were multiple stab wounds to his body. A sudden image of Sarah's lifeless body flashed before her eyes. Stumbling backwards, Lois reached out a hand and grabbed the edge of a table for support. She turned away from the grisly sight.
What was with that? Taking a few deep breaths, she lowered herself onto a chair and fumbled in her bag for her packet of cigarettes. Pulling a cigarette out of the packet, she lit it. Her hand shook. Damn.
This wasn't supposed to be happening to her. Pull yourself together, Lois, she inwardly muttered. Okay, so apparently she had problems with looking at dead bodies. She should know better. It felt like the walls were closing in around her. She had to get out of there. Grabbing her handbag, she bolted for the door and straight into Clark.
It was like running into a steel beam – shit. Stars danced before her eyes. She felt his large hands settle on her shoulders, steadying her.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't see you."
For a moment, she thought she actually detected a hint of concern in his eyes, mixed with embarrassment.
"I didn't hurt you?" he hurriedly asked.
That thought obviously bothered him. He couldn't help it - being what he was.
"Apart from a mild concussion I'll be fine."
His eyes widened slightly. She bit back a smile.
"I was joking, Clark. My lame attempt at humour."
He still wore that same serious expression on his face. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, what did it take to make him smile?
As if suddenly realizing his close proximity to her, he quickly removed his hands from her shoulders.
Gazing into his eyes, she could see questions there. At least he was still curious.
"Are you sure you're okay? Because you seemed in a hurry."
He always had been better at reading her than anyone else she knew. His presence was soothing. She longed to throw herself into his arms and tell him everything, all the horrible things that had happened in Iraq. The bomb blast she was caught in, her friend dying when she had survived. They were standing right next to each other – and she got out unscathed. Well, not entirely unscathed, but the scars on her back were minimal in comparison to dying. She had seen soldiers with their legs and arms blown off, horrible third degree burns caused from the intense fire of an IED bomb.
She was one of the lucky ones.
"I-I just needed some fresh air." She cursed the slight tremor in her voice.
If she didn't get out of there soon, she would be spilling out her woes to him. He had that effect on her.
Clark stood there rooted to the spot as she quickly stepped around him and walked outside. Let it go, he told himself. Lois wasn't his concern anymore. But something had disturbed her. Was it the sight of the bar tender's body? She had looked so – upset. Like she was battling some internal war.
Her words, 'You've no idea the things I've seen', played over and over in his mind. No doubt she would have seen stuff of nightmares even.
What had happened to her in Iraq? Something obviously had and it wasn't just about her being discharged from the Army.
It shouldn't bother him. What did he care? Only he did. None of this was right and everything seemed – wrong.
Stepping outside, he found her firing one question after another to his partner. She appeared composed once again as she scribbled in a note pad. His gaze rested on her face. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He had to wonder if she slept much. She had replaced the black jeans for plain, non-descript black trousers along with a bland coloured shirt. Her hair fell in soft waves about her face. She was still pretty even if too thin.
He watched her light up a cigarette.
Did she not realise she had just finished her last cigarette?
Okay, so she was a chain smoker now. That wouldn't be good for her health. Ignoring the concern, he walked over to her.
Steve looked up, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "She should be part of the detective team."
Steve had pretty much dated every young, pretty and available officer on the Metropolis police force. He could already see that he was finding Lois interesting.
"Detective Constable Kent is the person you need to talk to."
One eyebrow rose up as she glanced at him. "Seriously, in two years?"
How did she know he'd been in the police force two years? He sighed - Chloe that's how.
"Who would ever think that underneath all of that brawn, Kent, is highly intelligent?"
He saw speculation mixed with a hint of amusement in Lois' eyes.
"What were you doing Friday night, isn't that like beneath you if you made Detective?"
"I sometimes pick up extra shifts. I like doing the beat."
"Of course you would," she murmured.
Steve was watching on with curiosity.
Clark turned to him. "Don't you have photos to take?"
He held up a hand. "Okay, I get the hint. I'll leave you to it."
Once Steve left, he returned his attention to Lois. Her intent eyes were studying him, making him feel awkward.
"I need to ask you a few questions," he spoke.
Her eyes narrowed. "I thought I was the investigative reporter here?"
"Part of my job is to get the facts too, Lois, and you were here three nights ago."
"Okay, fire away – Detective Constable."
He ignored the intended meaning behind her words.
"Just let me put this out," she continued, gesturing to the cigarette.
He watched he walk to a nearby bin. She swayed slightly and worried she would faint, he quickly grabbed her by the arm. "Did you eat any breakfast?"
"Is this part of the investigation?"
He sighed. "Why don't we sit down before you fall down?"
"Okay."
She had no sooner sat down when he quickly sped to the nearest café, returning with a ham and cheese bagel.
She blinked in surprised. "Wow, is that for me?"
"You need to eat something."
A warm smile crossed her face as she took the bagel. It had been a while since he'd last seen it, and he almost found himself responding to it.
He pulled himself up with a start. She had unwrapped the bagel and took a bite.
"Why this place, Lois?" he asked, wait – that wasn't how he meant to word it.
She shrugged. "It was cheap, close to the hotel and I needed a drink."
"You couldn't just stop by a bottle shop and get takeaways?"
"I thought it would be harmless. I like background noise. It keeps me distracted."
He felt his curiosity increase. "From what?"
Her eyes met his, she swallowed. "How is this relevant, Clark?"
She was right. He was letting his so called non-existent feelings get in the way.
"The bar tender, was he the same guy from Friday night?"
She nodded.
"Did you talk to him at all?"
"Not really, but he was talking to another old guy at the bar. A regular by the look of it."
He watched her eat for a moment, seeing the enjoyment on her face. "This is good."
She always did eat with relish, not at all ladylike. He found himself oddly amused.
"I take it you didn't eat breakfast then?"
"No time, first day at work and I didn't want to be late."
He was getting distracted again. The sooner this little interview was over the better.
"I guess you didn't happen to catch this regular guy's name?"
She stopped chewing, a thoughtful look on her face as if she was trying to recall the events of that night.
"Bob." Her face lit up. "I think that's it. He's a retired mechanic and he has a son who has taken over the family business."
Clark was impressed.
"That's good, Lois. You have a sharp mind."
She always had.
"Considering your blood alcohol reading that night."
He hadn't meant to say that. It sort of slipped out. It was none of his business how much she drank and - or why.
Her eyes narrowed. "You know me, Clark. I can hold my own."
He averted his eyes from hers. This was becoming more tortuous by the minute. Trying to remain nonchalant, trying to act as if he really didn't know her.
"Can you describe his appearance?"
"Yeah, I think I can but on one condition."
He glanced at her.
"You take me with you when you find him."
Trust her to ask that. There was no way he could do that. It was against protocol. "I have a crime scene to investigate," he began.
"And I have a story to write."
He saw the stubborn tilt of her chin.
"You're very driven."
"And you're not," she shot back. "Because how many police officers make Detective Constable in just two years?"
He sighed. "I can work long hours because I don't need sleep …"
"Like us mere mortals," she finished for him.
How was that she was able to frustrate him? What he wouldn't give to be a mere mortal. He could hear Jor-el's voice echoing in his head. 'You must put your past behind you as a human, Kal-el.' Easier said than done, right now he was feeling every bit as angsty as a human. It was all her fault. And wasn't he supposed to be over her? Why did just the sight of her evoke forgotten memories and feelings?
"I still have to sleep from time to time, just not as often." His voice sounded defensive even in his own ears.
"You're not that different from us," she murmured softly.
Was that regret he saw in her eyes? It bewildered him.
"Different enough."
Picking up her napkin, she dabbed her lips with it. Her face had a sort of resigned look to it. "Thanks for the breakfast, Clark."
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, 'you needed it', but he kept his mouth shut and just nodded.
"I've got to dash off, you know, stories don't write themselves."
He didn't know what to say, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Chloe is always saying that."
Getting to her feet, she slung her hand bag over her shoulder, glancing at him.
"You want visuals on that regular customer, Bob, you know where to find me."
He watched her walk away, clenching his jaw. There were no flies on her. He found the changes in her disconcerting. She really knew how to play hard ball. But not so many moments ago, he'd also seen her vulnerability. He didn't know what to make of it – or her.
Her head ached. Coming face to face with Clark just three days later did little to comfort her. It was just – too hard. Acting the tough girl when she didn't feel so tough. Lois kept herself busy for the rest of the day. She met the rest of the people on her floor. Judging by the looks they gave her, especially the women, she was in for some stiff competition. It wasn't surprising. Journalists were a competitive lot. It was a case of who could out scoop who and how quickly one fought their way up the hierarchy ladder.
She had a quick lunch with Chloe. It was time they had a little discussion about Clark Kent.
"What did you tell Clark about me?" she demanded, soon as they sat down with their Lattes.
Chloe appeared puzzled, but Lois wasn't letting her off the hook.
"He somehow managed to drop the charges," she continued.
Chloe stirred her coffee. "Oh – that, well I just told him you were starting at the Daily Planet and a charge of disorderly conduct was the last thing you needed on your resume."
Lois narrowed her eyes. "You told him I was in Iraq?"
Chloe sighed, taking a sip of her latte.
"Now he thinks I'm some basket case," Lois continued, putting another sugar cube in her coffee. That thought bothered her, a lot. Her experiences in Iraq might have rattled her a little, but she was perfectly fine apart from the odd nightmare here and there.
"When did you see him?" Chloe asked.
"This morning, there was a homicide at the tavern I just happened to visit three nights ago."
Lois noticed the amused smile on her cousin's face.
"So soon," she casually remarked. "Did he say much to you?"
"He asked me some questions."
And he had brought her a bagel. She smiled at the thought. He was still curious enough. He wasn't completely a lost cause. Don't be stupid, Lois, she silently chided, he might not be totally heartless, but neither was he about to be her best buddy anytime soon.
"Did you know he's a Detective Constable now?"
"Yeah, I think he might have mentioned that."
Lois found herself lost in her own musings. She couldn't help being impressed a little. Who would have thought the plaid wearing farm boy would do so well in such a competitive field. Did he still wear plaid when not at work? She missed that farm boy, Smallville. She wanted him back. It was never going to happen, the sooner she resigned herself to that fact the better. Maybe they could be friends again – one day in the not too distant future.
It was late by the time Lois returned to her apartment. A mangy ginger moggy sat on the doorstep, mewing pitifully. Lois glanced down at it, her hands resting on her hips in annoyance.
"Not you again. I thought I told you to scram."
Shaking her head, she pulled the keys out of her bag and opened the door. The cat ran inside, much like he had last night. Maybe it belonged to the previous owner and was left behind?
She had no time for a cat and this one wasn't even friendly. It would let her near him. She had to use the broom to push it out the door last night.
It was now pacing the tiny kitchen floor, mewing loudly.
"I don't have any cat food."
Its mewing grew louder. She stumbled to the pantry and opened it. There had be something in here to shut the thing up. Her eyes landed on a tin of tuna - that should do it. Opening the tin she placed it on the floor and watched the cat scoff it down.
"You're even skinnier than me," she mused, feeling a quick pang of pity for the thing.
It looked like she would be buying cat food tomorrow and inwardly sighed. She always did have a thing for strays. Or rather they had a way of finding her.
Chloe hadn't been kidding when she had told him that Lois would be at every crime scene. Well, just about every crime scene that would no doubt have some juicy story attached to it. In the short course of one week, he would have run into her four times; so much for avoiding her. He was still debating about agreeing to her terms with the visuals of that regular customer, Bob. Truth was he needed some clues on that murder, and Lois was the only person who could give them to him.
So far she had stuck fast to her word. The only way she was going to comply was if he allowed her to go with him, when and if they found this ex-mechanic Bob.
It went against every grain of his principles or was it really to do with having to spend time with her? Probably the later. The Detective Sergeant had already told him to do whatever it took.
When he saw her, once again, that Friday as he pulled into the parking lot, he'd resigned himself to getting the information he needed. Even it meant having to work side by side with her for a bit, he could do that.
"The formidable Lois Lane," Steve mused. "Do you think if I asked her out for a drink she'd say yes?"
Clark wanted to tell him to stay away from Lois, but what he actually said was. "How would I know?"
Steve glanced his way. "Just that you two seem to know each other."
He was observant, Clark had to give him credit for that. Turning the ignition off and pulling the keys out, he pocketed them.
"I knew her a while back in my final year of high school."
Memories he didn't wish to re-visit. He opened the door, eager to escape Steve's questions.
"I bet she was a handful then?"
He stopped, his hand resting on the car door handle. A sudden memory of Lois dragging him under the seat bleachers the night of the football try-outs flashed through his mind.
'Where have you been all day and why are dragging me under here?'
"I can't be seen," she replied, looking furtively around.
"Why ….?"
"I got suspended."
His eyes widened. "Again!"
She pressed a finger to his lips. "Shss, not so loud."
"What did you do this time?"
She bit down on her lip. "I got caught smoking behind the gym."
"Lois!"
"Tone down the hissy fit, Smallville."
He shut his mouth. At this rate she was going to get kicked out of school.
The memory brought a nostalgic smile to his lips, one he quickly squashed. He could feel Steve's curious eyes watching him.
"She was always in trouble," he returned over his shoulder and pushed the car door open. Her voice from that night echoed in his ears.
'Okay, go knock them out soldier - I'll be cheering for you from under the stand.'
His eyes rested on the present day Lois Lane as he approached her. She was engaged in conversation with a fellow Policeman, grilling him in her bombastic, tactless way and puffing away on a cigarette between scribbling on a note pad.
'Why don't we strike a deal?' he suggested. 'If I make the team, you give up smoking.'
She glanced his way. There was an odd, reflective look on her face. Almost as if she knew what he was remembering.
'You did say at the beginning of the year that you would give up.'
'And we still have another seven months to go.'
'What does it matter if it's in one week or seven months?'
'Alright,' she grumbled. 'It's a deal.'
He watched her raise the cigarette to her lips. It seemed so long ago and yet – just the other day. He stopped directly in front on her. His eyes rested on her lips as she exhaled the white puffs of smoke. It didn't bother him that she smoked. It was her choice after all. He was only concerned about what it would do to her health. Hadn't her mother died from cancer? Didn't it worry her that she was opening herself up to the same death wish?
"What happened to our deal, Lois?"
Her eyes widened in shock. "What?"
Taking hold of her hand, he held it out in front of her, the cigarette burning away between her middle and forefinger.
"This."
Guilt, then annoyance flickered in her eyes. She snatched her hand away.
"I did quit – remember."
It probably wasn't his place to say anything, but they were friends once. And lovers, came the forbidden thought.
"The deal no longer applies."
She was defensive, bristling almost. The death glare she sent his way would melt most guys, but then he wasn't like other guys.
"Wow," Steve whistled alongside of him. "You two have issues. Anyone would think you were ex-lovers."
Lois glared at him. "What's it to you, buster," she shot back.
"Friends - we were only ever friends," Clark quickly added.
Steve gave a sceptical look and stepped back. "Whatever, I'll just leave you two ex-love birds to figure it out for yourselves."
His jaw clenched. He was never going to hear the end of this.
"You ever want to kill that guy?" Lois remarked.
Up until now, no. "Currently - yes."
He glanced her way, seeing the amused smile on her face. "Isn't that a bit too human, Clark?"
Unfortunately she had a way of bringing that out in him. Annoyed, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Probably."
She hid a smile at the disgruntled look on his face. It would appear Clark Kent wasn't as distant as she thought him to be. Then there was the whole smoking thing, which had astonished her. Just when she thought he really didn't care, out of the blue, he went and said something to her.
"By the way," he began, breaking into her train of thought. "I've given more thought to our discussion on Monday in regards to Bob, the ex-mechanic."
She turned to him, ignoring the flutter of her heart beat. It pissed her off that he still managed to get all of her physical senses on full alert whenever she was in close proximity to him.
"And?"
"Okay, Lois. You have your way."
She smiled, raising one eyebrow. She couldn't help teasing him a little. "Does this mean we're partners?"
He sighed. "In a matter of speaking, least for this case." He looked so not thrilled about it.
Her smile widened.
He frowned.
"And Lois, I'll be asking the questions."
"Sure thing."
Not likely though.
His frown deepened as he gazed into her eyes. "It's not going to happen is it?"
She tapped her pen against his broad chest. "I'll try to be a good girl, Clark."
He didn't look at all reassured. He knew her too well.
"Well I'm all done here. I'll see you at the station tomorrow for the sketch artist?"
He nodded. "Make it around ten in the morning."
Lois walked away feeling immensely pleased with herself. Her and Clark Kent working on a case together, who'd ever thought that would ever happen.
Lois was typing away on her computer when she felt someone watching her. Quickly looking up, she saw a young, somewhat good looking man standing not more than a metre from her desk. He was smiling in an absurd way, as if he found her to be some kind of novelty.
She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Who are you?"
His smile widened in a very affable, likeable way.
"I'm Gabriel Grant, Senior Editor."
"Since when?"
"As of today, Miss Lane."
Great, just what she needed, another hot shot good looking journalist to compete with. And senior editor? He looked far too young for that. How had he earned his strips?
"I thought Perry White was my boss?"
"You answer to me. I answer to him. It's how it works, Lane."
Okay, maybe he was a high achiever?
"I've been reading a number of your stories as a war correspondent. You write extremely well."
She felt flattered by the compliment.
"I'm looking forward to working with you."
Giving her a passing warm smile, he turned away. Lois didn't know what to say or think as she watched him walk to the door. However, her curiosity was piqued. Who the hell was he? And how did he climb the ranks so fast?
Clark sat down at his desk and checked his emails. There was one from Lex Luthor. Another invitation to some charity ball donation. Lex was really working hard at his political aspirations. He was about to delete the email when his finger hovered over the button. Should he go? And why was Lex still bothering him with these lame invitations?
He shook his head. Lex running for the state Kansas Senator was ambitious. It was bizarre too, but what if he won the seat? He had already managed to become Mayor of Metropolis. Just what were his motives? Maybe it was about time to find out.
Instead of hitting the delete button, Clark's finger pressed the 'accept' button. He leaned back in his seat, his hands relaxing on the arm rests of his chair.
He could never let Lex achieve that sort of power. Jor-el had warned him on numerous occasions about what that sort of power did to a person. Why was it that the sociopaths always found power on this planet, and never anyone able to harness it for good? Maybe his biological father was right?
As much as he had met a great many decent people with good intentions, he had also met just as many who didn't. The balance of power had always been an odd thing. Not something that could be, or should be, so easily pinned.
Chloe sipped her latte, flicking through the paper. Clark abruptly sat down opposite to her. She glanced up at him. He looked frazzled. It wasn't often she saw him like that.
"Don't tell me - Lois?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Only Lois can put that look on your face, Clark."
His jaw clenched. "She is so …"
"Frustrating," she finished for him, a slow amused smile crossing her face.
It kind of felt good to see him rattled for a change. If Lois could still frustrate him then he couldn't be completely over her. Obviously not as much as what he would like to be.
"Why, what has she done now?"
"I have to work with her on this murder case."
She noticed the disgruntled look on his face. "I've run into her practically every day! And I just had to spend an hour with her at the police station."
"I thought you no longer have feelings for her?"
He brought himself up with a start. "I don't."
Chloe took a sip of her coffee. "Then what's the problem?"
Lowering his gaze, he picked up the napkin and began tearing it into shreds. Chloe waited for him to answer. Something was bothering him.
"Does she talk about her time in Iraq?" he eventually asked.
Was Clark possibly concerned now?
"I get the impression she doesn't want to and I don't push. Why do you ask?"
He shook his head. "It's nothing."
Was it? Chloe was well aware that Lois was struggling. She recalled how annoyed Lois had been when she'd told Clark she had been in Iraq. 'Now he thinks I'm some basket case'.
Lois liked the rest of the world to see her as this tough girl, and that she was perfectly fine, even if she wasn't. She had always been that way. Clark was also well aware of what Lois was like. He must have picked up that not everything was right with her.
"I had another invitation to one of Lex's charity functions," he spoke, breaking the lengthy silence.
He obviously wanted to change the subject.
"I hope you deleted it?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, Chloe. Can we chance him becoming state Senator?"
She went still. "You have to stay away from him, Clark."
He ran a hand through his hair. "And if he becomes Senator, what next? Does the day arrive when he becomes President?"
She laughed. "I doubt it."
Given the look on Clark's face, he didn't. What if that did happen? God help them all. Sensing the sudden seriousness of this conversation, she leaned across the table.
"Clark, you might be the only person who can stop him. But if he truly finds out exactly what you are. He could also be the one who destroys you."
A shadow passed over his face. "I have to take that chance, Chloe."
She shook her head sadly. "There may come a day, when you might be our last hope, Clark. What if your biological father has been right all along?"
His sigh was heavy, his expression guarded once more.
"Lois agrees with me," she continued.
His eyebrows shot up. "Lois?"
"I probably shouldn't be telling you this, Clark, but I just can't hide it any longer. Lois wasn't being selfish when she left you to join the Army. She truly believed that she had to let you go."
He stared at her, eyes filled with doubt. "What are you saying, Chloe?"
She threw her hands up in despair. "Are you seriously that blind when it comes to matters of the heart, Clark?"
Chloe bit down on her lip. Yes, he was. "Don't answer that."
He frowned, appearing confused.
She took a deep breath, gazing directly into his eyes. He had to know the truth.
"She made the ultimate sacrifice to save us – humanity. She had to give you up. I-I would have done the same."
He looked at her wordlessly.
"Clark, when she told you - you were not one of us, she was saying you are so much more."
"I don't want to be," he got out through gritted teeth.
He really could be frustrating, but she couldn't blame him. It wouldn't be easy carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was only 21 years of age. Most other young men were out there living their lives, having fun, partying and not taking life too seriously.
Clark already appeared so many years older than what he was.
"But, I'm well aware of what I am," he returned in an even tone of voice. "What I have to become."
Chloe didn't know what to say to make it any easier for him. But he had to know one thing. Reaching out a hand, she entwined her fingers with his.
"You don't have to do it alone, Clark. You need people as much as they need you."
Sooner or later he had to realise that? No one should be alone. Super hero or not. In many ways she was glad Lois had returned. It meant she no longer had to do this on her own.
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A/N: Reviews are always loved and very appreciated! I'm always keen to hear what people think and I especially love feedback. I had another whole scene for this chapter but it ended up being too long and it kind of broke with the continuity a bit so I put it into the next chapter. The good news is that I've pretty much written at least half of the next chapter as a result, and you shouldn't have to wait as long for an update.
Thanks for reading!
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