Confluent

by Jack-El49

Clark and Lois are the rock-steady power couple of the comic book universe. But both traveled very different paths that shaped them, helped define their hopes and dreams of finding love, and brought them into each other's arms. In three parts, Confluent tells their stories from a different perspective before and after they met, beginning with their teenage years.

8. Part One, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Smallville – 2015

Clark was surprised at the speed at which the summer of 2014 flew by. The weather had been perfect, just enough rain to limit the need for manual watering and all the sun Clark could soak up. Pete filled in the gaps when the chores were done. Up until August, there had been no organized football practice so Pete would come over and run routes to let next year's starting quarterback throw the ball around.

Although he never made the connection, Clark continued to grow as a quarterback in the same way the deep green corn grew under the brilliant cobalt blue Kansan sky that summer. Although he had been skeptical when Lana had made the comment about him being busy over the summer, it turned out that she had been correct about everything but one point. He could hardly focus on his chores or football thinking about her return and although it went fast, he missed her. In truth, he missed the idea of her and thought about all of things they would do with their time together as seniors at Smallville High. He had thought about the classes and football games and spending time together with Lana at after-game gatherings in town. He had glimpsed those celebrations last year and he knew that Lana would relish being in the center of the festivities and the notoriety of being with Clark during those post-game events. He thought about the pre-game rallies in the gym, the team introduction at the rally the day of the first game, the bonfires at Homecoming, the Homecoming dance, he thought about looking out at the cheers from his classmates and their families and he imagined the scene of pushing through the throng of reveling students, parents, teachers, townspeople, and local press to find Lana in the crowd after they had won the high school championship. He imagined a photo appearing in the paper after they won, with him hoisting Lana into a celebratory embrace.

Clark also imagined other things and had mental images of spending more intimate moments with Lana. In his mind, he began picturing them somewhere private, on a blanket under a full moon, holding, kissing and touching one another. He pictured Lana pulling her tank top off and reaching behind to release her bra, watching it fall and gently reaching out and touching her soft breasts as she pulled him into a deep kiss. He imagined her hands pulling his t-shirt up and over his head, and then reaching for his belt as they lay back together on the soft blanket under the bright full moon. And he could almost feel her touch as he imagined her hand slipping beneath his belt.

Suddenly, something jolted him out of the lucid dream. He was breathing heavily and felt a burning in his eyes or more accurately, behind his eyes even though they had been closed. The feeling intensified and though it was not causing any discomfort, the odd sensation immediately broke his train of thought. It was a feeling of extreme power, like his eyes would explode but not in a painful way. The event startled him, and he could not understand what was happening or even find words to describe the sensation.

There was no doubt that it was an ability or power of some sort emerging but what it meant or did Clark was apprehensive about finding out. Other than the x-ray vision he had mastered, he had no other problems with his vision. In fact, over the summer, his vision had become similar to his hearing. If he concentrated on looking at something a great distance away, he could see it as if looking through binoculars. His telescopic vision did not cover distances the way an observatory did or like his hearing allowed, but he learned that he could see things magnified four or five times what normal perfect vision could see.

But whatever had happened to his eyes that jolted him out of his daydream did not seem like a benign ability that he could use without being detected. More to the point, it felt like a terribly powerful ability that could hurt or kill. He was not sure what exactly would have happened had he not forced himself to break his train of thought but he was certain that it was something destructive, dangerous.

The other aspect of this power that was limiting was what he believed had brought it on. He was having erotic thoughts about Lana at the time and those seemed to trigger that sensation in his eyes. Unlike other powers and abilities, he had always been able to consult with his parents about the emerging ability or power. They had always provided sage advice on how to manage his phenomenal powers and abilities which proved invaluable in controlling and concealing them. But given the trigger of this power or ability, he surely could not talk to his mom about it, and he thought he should be cautious about explaining to his dad what brought the sensation on. Until he could be absolutely sure what caused the frightening incident, he had opted not to discuss it with either parent and focus instead on doing what he was told and football.

Lana returned from the summer art program at SUNY in New York one week before the new school year began. By then, Clark was heavily engaged in football practice, sometimes spending the better part of the day there between scrimmaging, drills, and small group training sessions covering the new playbook and examining the positional nuances that went along with new plays. By the time he got home, he had just enough daylight left to finish whatever chores remained for him that day. His evenings were most often spent with Lana, and she told him all the wonderful things she had seen and done while studying in New York. Clark agreed to go to New York City together someday so that she could show him all the sights and sounds of the Big Apple.

She also told him that she had been thinking about the business end of art, not just its creation. "They say it can be a lucrative business, curating collections, overseeing the buying and selling of art," she said. "Artists struggle but those who deal in art don't struggle as much as the artists themselves. It's all about finding an emerging artist and promoting his or her work. If it catches on, you're off to the races."

"So, next year, will you be considering an Art major with a minor in Business or Business major and minor in Art?" Clark asked. "Have you checked to see if Metropolis University offers those majors?"

"Yes, I've checked. And they do offer both," she replied. "I'd have to talk to some counselors once I get accepted there. I don't know which way is best." She paused. "That's a good question, though. Maybe I'll email the director at the summer program from SUNY and see if she has any advice." Clark nodded.

"I was approached over the summer by a recruiter from the Met U football team," Clark revealed. "I happened to be downtown getting some stuff for my dad at the hardware and feed, and the man said he bumped into me by accident." Clark rolled his eyes. "I don't think it was an accident, but I listened to what he had to say and I kind of liked the idea of going there."

"And your folks?" Lana asked.

"I haven't spoken to them yet. I wanted to talk to you first," he replied. "I wanted to see where you planned on going before I got too involved in one college over another."

"I have always considered Met U to be my first pick," Lana said. "I don't think I'd have a problem getting in there," she smiled, "my grades are pretty good."

Clark smiled. He pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head, smelling the fragrant scent of a floral scented shampoo in her hair and hearing her rhythmic heartbeat rise and fall as she settled into his arms. "Then I'll talk to my folks and see what they think, and I'll submit an admission application to Met U, too."

With the start of school and the first game two weeks away, Clark and Lana were both busy with their respective pursuits. After school, Lana would sit on the bleachers for a half hour or so and watch Clark practice after her Ingénue Club met and her after-school art class open session ended. Her parents had allowed her to take their second car and sometimes she would give Clark a ride home if she did not have too much work to get done. If so, then Pete would drop him off and continue on with his girlfriend, Abby.

With the football season is full swing, Clark had less time to spend with Lana during the school week but they were almost inseparable on the weekends. After the Friday night games, they would go into Smallville and eat pizza. Clark was always famished after a game and being a local celebrity of sorts, the pizza shop usually anticipated his arrival and had two pizzas in the oven, one for him and one for both of them. With Clark going there, half the team, their girlfriends, and cheerleaders would follow his lead and quickly fill the pizza shop to overflowing.

The Crows had an undefeated record after the third game and anticipation was high for a state championship. Clark was lauded as a blue chip candidate for any college interested in a winning quarterback. His practice habits and study of the playbook were keys to his execution. He developed a huge following and enjoyed, perhaps for the first time in his life, adoration rather than scorn and suspicion. That was all behind him as people realized that Clark was no loner and no threat to anyone except an opposing team's defense.

The heralding of his football career had made his parents happy initially because it normalized his teen years, but Jonathan began to sour on it. After the third game in which Clark nearly single-handedly overcame defensive lapses by the Crows to win the game, Jonathan asked Clark to sit down once he got home. It was late at night and Martha had gone to bed. Jonathan stayed up and waited for his son to get home.

Clark came in the door and saw his dad sitting at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a simmering cup of coffee. Seeing his dad troubled alarmed Clark and he asked, "What's wrong, Dad?"

"Let's talk Son; have a seat." Jonathan tightened his jaws and looked frustratingly at Clark. "This whole thing is wrong, Clark. The way you're beating other teams, putting the Crows on your back and winning the game almost by yourself. It's just wrong. Don't you get it?" Clark frowned. "Son," his dad began, "you can win every game and there's no way to stop you from doing that. Right? You could run the ball in every time it got put in your hands and there's nothing the other boys can do about it, right?"
Clark nodded. "Do you think that's fair?"

Clark sat silently. "Look, I'm proud of you, Clark, so is your mom. We're proud the way you've changed how people see and think about you now. And that's all great. But you're using your abilities to beat these other teams and it isn't fair to your teammates or your opponents.

"I worry about a couple things but mostly, I worry that the longer this goes on, the more you won't be able to distinguish between playing fair or playing to win regardless the costs." He paused, looked away at nothing because he felt like he was getting emotional. "There are other fathers tonight that are sitting with their sons from that other team you beat. Those boys have dreams, too, Clark. They practice just as hard as you do without the special abilities you have. Some may get recruited and even offers of scholarships, but others won't because they're overlooked by college scouts who see you evading a rush or beating a coverage on a throw downfield. I know that you never try to beat these other boys by using your abilities, but you do use them. You can't help but use them and these other kids are losing their dreams because of it. There are men out there who make a living and feed their families by coaching. This affects them too. It's not fair, Clark, and you need to think about all that. You need to consider the opportunities that all the other boys on the other teams will miss because of that, because of you. You need to consider the careers of coaches and what impact you may have on their families."

"But don't you think I have a responsibility to my teammates to do my best?" Clark replied. "I don't know how not to do my best, Dad."

His father reached out and grabbed both of his hands. "I know Clark," he said. "I know you want to do your best for the other guys, for your school, even for the town. But think of this. There are families who can't afford to send their sons to college and football may be their only path to get there. I don't know what you want to do with the rest of your life once you're on your own, but I imagine you'll have higher goals than a career in the NFL. I know whatever you choose to do will be a worthwhile use of the special gifts you have, something that makes this world a better place because of you. Winning championships is a notation in the annuls of whatever organization maintains those records. It does nothing to make life better for people." He swallowed hard. "Clark, I doubt your father and mother sent you here so that you could dominate others on a football field. Maybe they didn't know what would happen to you once you got here but I'm sure they weren't much different from us. They wanted you to lead your life as a credit to them, your people, us, and to be an example worth following and honoring for decades or centuries into the future. That's a hell of lot more important and lasting than getting your jersey enshrined in Canton."

Clark looked down at the table and thought about the faces of the boys on the other teams they had played. He saw the faces of the disappointed coaches and thought about the handshakes and congratulatory sentiments they had for him and his teammates. They were competitors in a game, not enemies in some existential battle. Even opposing coaches offered a post-game congratulatory handshake or pat on the helmet, and his dad was right, maybe a loss would mean that coach was unemployed after the year was over. It is a game and it meant so much more to those other boys than it did him. For him, football gave him a way out of the shadows of suspicion and put an end to the innuendo and whispering. For those other boys, it could mean a way into a better future for them and their families.

He looked back at his dad. "I still want to play, Dad. But, you're right," he paused, "I guess I never thought about it that way. I'll lower my level of play to something more in line with what the opposing QB is doing. I'll find a way to do that."

Jonathan smiled. "That would be a start, Clark. And I want you to play, Son. I'm not saying you should try to lose games though because there are guys on your team playing just as hard and winning for them is the same as the boys on the other team. I guess what I'm saying is that you need to let the others on your team have a bigger role in determining the outcome." He paused. "Take a sack or two if you think another QB would have been tackled in the same situation. Get up slow or limp off the field once in a while to let your backup have a shot to play. If you've got a lead, act like you got your bell rung or your shoulder's sore and sit out a few series. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

It dawned on Clark exactly what he needed to do and that his dad was right. Lost in all the excitement and rush of winning a game had been the ideals of sportsmanship and fair play. Clark always considered his dad a good man. The talk he just had with his dad made Clark realize what a great man he was and how fortunate he considered himself to have been raised by a man like Jonathan Kent.

A valuable lesson was learned under that dim light in the kitchen. It was a lesson in fairness, in selflessness, and a lesson about caring for others, even adversaries, that would stick with Clark for the rest of his life. And the world would be a better place someday because of it.

The season ended just before the Christmas break with the Crows winning 10 of their 11 games and winning the state championship, even with Clark on the sideline on crutches after hyperextending his left knee in the third quarter of the second-to-last game of their regular season. In that game at the opposing team's field, the Crows were ahead by three points and Clark let himself be sacked. He lay on the field to gasps of the Smallville crowd and was helped up and to the sideline by trainers.

The claim that he hyperextended his knee while being sacked sent him to the sidelines like he had planned. However, what happened after that was not planned and shed some light on what was triggering his emerging ability.

The opposing team went on to win the game after a brutal hit on a defenseless Crow receiver and a crushing targeting hit suffered by Pete, the team's featured running back. Neither of the vicious hits were flagged by the officials and Clark, seeing Pete wobbling and needing help to the sidelines was angry with the opposing player involved and the referees for not penalizing the player. Pete's injury forced the backup quarterback to throw more than planned. The Crow's number two receiver sustained a brutal hit by a linebacker and safety on a crossing route, just as the ball hit his hands. The hit popped the ball into the air, and it was intercepted and returned for a touchdown. The Smallville receiver was rolling on the field in intense pain and gasping for breath, and trainers rushed to his aid. He was eventually taken to the sidelines with possible broken ribs. One of the two players who hit the receiver, ran past the sidelines after the touchdown, taunting Smallville players.

Clark grew angrier because he felt helpless to do anything. Having feigned a knee injury, he could not just suddenly run out onto the field. To make matters worse, he could hear the two boys boasting to their teammates when they returned to the sidelines and laughing about the injured player, which infuriated Clark even more. As his anger built, he began to feel the sensation he had felt last summer building behind his eyes. This time it seemed even more intense than it had been during the summer. He panicked and turned to hobble into the locker room to get himself under control. Diverting his attention away from the opposing team and on the locker room did the trick, and the feeling quickly passed. He continued to the locker room to splash some water on his face and claim he had to use the restroom while there.

He returned to the benches and found his teammate holding his ribs. Clark looked at him and was relieved to see that his ribs were not broken but he knew their receiver would be sore for a few weeks. Pete was no longer wobbly but the coach kept him out for the rest of the game. Clark sat down next to him, and they talked a bit. He seemed fine to Clark and Pete even came over the next day to see how he was doing and was apparently feeling no effects from the hit to the head. Clark continued to ramble around on the crutches the school had loaned him after the team physician opined that there was no lasting damage but he would need to keep his weight off it.

The crutches ruse had the unplanned perk for Clark of being mothered by Lana over the next few weeks and into the Christmas break, playing the role of dutiful girlfriend. Martha rolled her eyes at Clark whenever she would catch his act with the crutches, letting Lana dote over him, helping him to the couch, getting an extra pillow for him, or fetching a big bowl of popcorn Martha made for the both of them, just so Clark could stay off of his injured knee. He was clearly enjoying Lana's attention, but Martha reminded Clark that being hobbled with a bad knee also meant that he must stay out of the loft until his knee healed, for fear of re-injuring it and, thereby restricting the two of them to the Kent's living room, under the watchful eyes of Clark's mom and dad.

Before the season ended, Clark had received five offers from colleges who wanted him to play for their team. Three scouts visited the Kent home and the scout from Metropolis University was one of those.

He and Lana had talked about the colleges that had offered him scholarships and examined what undergraduate programs those schools had for Lana to pursue her business and art degrees. They both agreed that Met U was the ideal place to go after graduation.

"Perfect! I'll contact the recruiter and sign the letter of intent for Met U right after the holiday break," Clark told Lana. "Have you looked at their application yet?"

"I have," she replied. "I went ahead and submitted an application to Met U after we talked last summer. I also sent applications to four other colleges, but Met U is where I think I want to go," she quickly added. "The others were kind of long shot art colleges anyway and kind of expensive, but the Met U admissions counselor I had talked to back in September said he didn't seem to think there would be any problem getting in with my grades and extracurricular school and community activities. I guess I should be hearing from them soon." She cocked her head. "Have you thought about what you'd want to major in?"

He frowned. "I don't know, Lana. It won't be an NFL career for me after college. Hey, but maybe sports broadcasting? Or maybe a major in agriculture since farming is all I really know."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I think you underestimate yourself. I think you could do anything you put your mind to, Clark. You should think about a job where you can inspire and lift people up. You have such a good heart and strong values; people need to be reminded of those things. Society gets so cynical or so distracted with the all the hype on TV and movies, decency and values are something that people need to be reminded of. You need to find a job like that."

"Hey, maybe I'll come back to Smallville and run for mayor! I can be a poli-sci major," Clark grinned. "Do you think your parents would vote for me?"

"You led Smallville to a state championship. They'd probably vote for you now," she said, and he pulled her in close to him and she soaked up the warmth he radiated. "Seriously though, you should think about those things, Clark, because those are special gifts that need to be shared. You have a way of making people around you want to be better. Our society needs leaders and role models like that."

His parents had gone to bed and Clark suddenly got serious. "What about us?" he half-whispered.

"Us? How so?"

"What do you see happening to us? Will we go off to Met U and remain like this? Will we be closer?" he wondered.

Lana looked up to the top of the stairs to see if she could see any light coming out from beneath his parent's door. "I want to be closer to you. There are a few things left to explore," she whispered wantonly and moved in closer and tighter. "And I know that I love you, Clark, for all the reasons that I think you need to do something to inspire others. I can't imagine that I'd ever find someone who is as good and decent and selfless and honest as you, and I know those are qualities that we can build a lasting relationship on." She looked up and kissed him, chastely at first and then growing more passionate. He returned her kiss and the intensity he felt from her. He heard her heart begin to pound. Lana retreated and stared at him, her eyes glistening with desire. Again, half-whispering, "As soon as we can be alone again, I want to start exploring those other things. I am so ready to try it with you, Clark." She laid her head back against his chest and said absently, "Sometimes, it's all I can think about."

Clark listened and began thinking about the episode the previous summer when he had similar thoughts about Lana and the reaction he had. He fought the urge to imagine making love to Lana and tried to think of other things. Responding to her at that moment might escalate the discussion which could lead to more intense emotions that would trigger the explosive heat sensation building behind his eyes. He absolutely could not let that happen. "Me, too," he said softly. "I want that so badly that I can hardly wait, but until we can truly be alone, we should probably let it go or it will drive us crazy." He shifted his weight and suggested, "Let's watch something, maybe a Christmas movie?"

He could feel himself getting trapped. He wanted to make love to Lana as badly as she wanted him. But he knew he could not do that until she knew that he was not human. He also had to know what the consequences of making love might be. The foreboding incident triggered by his prolonged thoughts of the physical sights and pleasures of lovemaking with Lana were more than merely concerning. Until he knew exactly what that sensation would eventually lead to, and knowing that, if he could control it during the throes of ecstasy that he would obviously experience, he had to redirect discussions and plans of any rendezvous to consummate their prurient urges.

Clark decided the first step would be to determine exactly what the new power or ability was. He sensed it was powerful and dangerous. He knew that he had to be alone when he determined what it was exactly.

Then, he needed to determine if he could control it. He suspected that an intense emotion would trigger it since each it had happened, Clark was having an intense emotional moment. But what he did not know is that once activated, could he stop it, or did it have to run its course? Was it simply a response, or could he use it on demand? Those were questions he needed to find out and needed to find out soon.

He soon devised a plan to test it. The stream that divided property lines where Lana encountered the coyote would be the perfect place to test this developing power or ability. It was remote, he would be beyond the crest of the short sloping land that became the bank of the small stream. Since it felt explosive, the stream and any residual ice or snow could absorb the blast he felt was building behind his eyes, and would prevent a damage to property.

Two days after Christmas, Lana's parents were taking her to an afternoon Christmas chorale in the town they had previously lived in and left before noon. Once he was certain Lana was gone, Clark snuck down to the stream. Although a dusting of snow occurred every few days, overall it had been a relatively dry winter and there was no mud to leave tracks in. He told his mom that he was going out to get some fresh air and she facetiously called out to remind him to take his crutches.

Clark spent nearly an hour at the stream trying to make whatever was going to happen, happen. He was unsuccessful at first and attributed that to the setting that was a little too clinical for him to become aroused or enraged with the same intensity that triggered the sensation before. He became frustrated after trying to cause it to happen and after an hour, he was ready to rip the huge bur oak out of the ground. He concentrated on his frustration, and he felt the early stages of the sensation begin. He continued to let the sensation grow and seconds later, he realized that intense heat was radiating out of this eyes. He quickly looked at the stream and a geyser of steam arose. He looked at the opposite bank and the traces of snow vanished the soil smoldered and seemed to be melting. He closed his eyes and instantly, the heat vanished.

Over the second hour at the stream, Clark practiced summoning the heat vision and each time he was successful, it required less effort than the time before. By the time he had finished, he could create the heat vision without recalling the intense emotional memories. He merely had to concentrate and tell his mind what he wanted to do and that, he believed, was the only trigger he needed for the heat vision to work.

The practice at the stream also had one unintended outcome as well. While Clark was practicing with the heat vision, pinpointing where he wanted it and the intensity of it, he caused billows of steam to rise above the stream, and soon realized that those steam clouds could be seen. As the steam billowed up, he instinctively waved his arms and blew to dissipate it but what it did was freeze the steam into ice crystals that dropped back into the stream. At first, he thought he had just blown a hole into the cloud of steam until he noticed the ice crystals falling like sleet. He sent a blast of heat vision into the water causing it to evaporate into steam, and he blew at the rising cloud of steam. It froze and fell back into the stream. He repeated that several times and thought about how cool it was to do.

When he was done, he felt comfortable with the heat vision and learned he could freeze water or anything for that matter by simply blowing on it hard enough. He could not wait to show his dad and mom his new abilities.

With that issue out of the way, the biggest issue remained: telling Lana about his heritage. Until the event on the last day of school several years ago, Clark was ready to tell her. Since then, she left and had not returned until four months ago. They were re-connecting, and it was better than he ever imagined but he still was wary about telling her. Lana's parents were not his biggest fans, and should Lana take the news badly, her parents would surely end up knowing the truth about him. After that, he would have no more secret to keep and all the concerns his parents had about others knowing would suddenly come true.

He was cornered and he saw only two ways out: tell Lana and hope she was not freaked out about it and would keep his secret or find a way to stall making love to her until he was an adult and out of the household. Neither were very good solutions.

He decided to talk about with his dad about telling Lana his secret. He would ask his dad to help him practice his newest abilities and once they were alone, he would broach the subject of telling Lana. He suspected that his dad would want to know why he was so intent on telling Lana, and eventually cross the Rubicon and tell that they were on course to have sex and he did not think it was right not to tell her his secret first. Once he brought up sex, he was sure his dad would tell him what a terrible idea making love to Lana was, regardless of whether he told her about his true heritage or not.

"Clark, have you even thought any of this through?" his dad asked. "What do you think the ramifications might be if Lana got pregnant, Son? Even using all the protections known to man, you don't know how effective those would be against you. I don't know if you can produce a child with a human and no one knows if introducing your DNA into her body will cause her health problems. And that's just the biological considerations!" He shook his head. "Aside from the ethical considerations you're worried about, there are the physical things too. What if you injured her? I'll be blunt here, suppose you damaged her insides, and she could never have a baby, Clark? How do you think that would end up? I know it wouldn't be intentional, but you could crush her by accident if you couldn't help yourself. Think about it. That's just a terrible, terrible idea, Son."

"But what am I supposed to do? Lana has been hinting…well, actually more than just hinting at it. She's planning on it. What am I supposed to say to that?" Clark had feared the conversation would go this way. "Either I break up with her or we'll end up doing it." He paused. "I'm asking for your advice, not a lecture, Dad."

He ran his hand through his hair and looked down at the ground. "I don't know what to tell you, Son. You're right though, maybe breaking it off or just cool it down is what you need to do because until we know more about your biology and its compatibility with humans, you're going to be facing this with whomever you end up with." He paused. "I guess abstaining on religious grounds won't help, huh? Maybe just on moral grounds?"

Clark shook his head. "She won't buy those excuses and I'm not sure I would either at this point." He kicked at the dirt. "I thought the big issue was telling her my secret. That's the least of my dilemmas now."

Jonathan clapped his son on the shoulder. "Look, I've been where you are before but obviously not with the same conflicts. I know it wasn't easy but I'm glad that you trust me enough to talk with me about it, Clark. When I was your age, I don't think I would have ever asked your grandpa Kent about this." He gave his son a sad smile. "I wish I had answers for you, Son. Your mom and I have been facing challenges all along the way bringing you up. That's not to mean we wouldn't do it again. We'd do it again in a heartbeat, but this is the toughest challenge yet, and it's probably the most important one to get right. I know it took guts to come to me with it." Clark did not respond immediately, and his dad added, "I will support whatever decision you make. I trust you will think this through. But if you do decide to have sex with Lana, you owe it to her to tell her about how you came to be here and some of your abilities. Maybe then she will rethink her position on diving into sex. And if not, then maybe you should suggest that you do something else so that you don't injure her or irreparably harm her, you know?"

Clark nodded his agreement. Even though it was not a perfect solution, at least his dad gave him some good ideas and would support whatever decision Clark and Lana came to. Now Clark's attention shifted to Lana and what to say to her. Ready or not, he was about to find out.

The Smallville New Year's Eve celebration was three days later and Lana suggested that they go and watch the fireworks together. The celebration began at 6 PM at the county fairgrounds with food, beverages of all types, games, music, and a large dance floor laid out beneath a giant tent. The evening would conclude with a fireworks display beginning at midnight.

Lana drove her family's truck and picked up Clark. She had heavy blankets and some moving blankets for the bed of the truck stuffed behind the cabin seats. It was almost 6 PM when Lana called Clark to see if he was ready. "I can drive if you want me to, Lana," he offered over the phone when she called. "I'm off the crutches now."

"It's okay. I've already packed up some things. I'm on my way and be there in a minute or two." Lana pulled up about 3 minutes later. He got in the passenger side and off they went. "This should be nice. It's not as cold as I thought it might be. I imagine it will be colder by midnight, so I brought some blankets." He looked behind the seat and saw a bundle of blankets.

"And I also brought some thick moving blankets for the back. I thought after we have something to eat and wander around the grounds, maybe we can go dancing for a little while under the tent. When it gets close to midnight, we can go to the truck and lay out the blankets and watch the fireworks from there." Lana had it all planned out. Even though she knew they would not have the privacy they needed to make love, covered with blankets would let them take their intimacy to a higher level than what they could in the Kent's living room.

They wandered around the fair-like atmosphere of the town celebration and filled their stomachs with a variety of available grilled and smoked foods. Pies and cakes, and even homemade ice cream was there. There was beer, wine, champagne, and sodas to drink, as well as Clark's favorite, the steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

As they strolled around, it was the first time Clark felt at ease among the people of Smallville. People smiled and said hello, and men wanted to shake his hand. They complimented his job as the Crows quarterback, as well as his choice of a New Year's Eve date. It was the best day he had ever remembered in Smallville, and it put them both in a good mood. They even found the dance floor and despite Clark's initial resistance to it, they spent hours there, taking advantage of the slow songs to get close and set tongues wagging.

When midnight approached, they walked to the truck she had pulled nose in from the road onto the grass. Lana handed Clark the heavy moving blankets and he spread them on the floor of the truck. Lana brought two small blankets to roll into makeshift pillows and two large thick blankets. One went over the moving blankets and the other one went over them. She also produced a bottle of sparkling apple juice and plastic cups that she had bought for the occasion.

By the time they got settled, they had just enough time to drink a cup of apple juice and kiss before they heard the emcee in the tent begin counting down. Lana sat up and pulled Clark up. "Here we go," she said. As the New Year arrived, Lana and Clark embraced and fell into very long kiss with the sound of Auld Lang Syne and the first booms of fireworks in the background. They lay back down, hardly breaking their embrace but watched as the rockets burst to the cheers of the crowd.

It had gotten colder, as expected, and the heavy blanket and Clark's body heat kept Lana warm. She snuggled close and caught Clark looking at her. He was enthralled, her face painted under the colored light from the fireworks. They cast different hues on her soft, porcelain skin and, to him, she was simply breathtaking. "What are you looking at?" she teased.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he replied. She looked away and smiled, then rolled over onto her side and closer to Clark, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

Lana reached up and gently pulled him into a kiss. Clark responded, turning from his back to his side to face her. They quickly became oblivious to the booms and crackles of the fireworks bursting overhead; the fireworks that had ignited between them trumped the show overhead.

As their kisses became more passionate, Lana crossed her leg over Clark's and moved in even tighter against him. Clark absently reached down, cupped her bottom, and pulled her up against him. While still kissing passionately, she began writhing against his groin and she could feel he had become aroused. Her writhing became more rhythmic; harder, more feral. Clark rolled slightly to his side to gain some separation and moved his hand beneath her sweater, playing with her taut stomach and inching his hand higher. Lana took charge and pulled his hand up to her breast and he slid it beneath her bra. He felt her arousal now, pointed and hard. She released his hand, now that it found its mark, and reached down to his groin, feeling the outline of the diamond-hard member straining against the denim jeans. She gasped and whispered heavily, "Oh my God."

He rolled her onto her back and she instinctively spread her legs to feel his hardness against her. Suddenly the pressure began building behind his eyes. He did not want to stop with Lana, but he knew he had to. He tried closing his eyes but that did nothing to stem the building pressure. He pushed himself off her, panicky.

"Clark, what are you doing?" she protested, breathlessly.

"I've…I…," he had to release the pressure immediately and looked up at the fireworks and a stream of heat vision burst from his eyes, harmlessly and invisibly into the night sky. The single burst released the immediate need but was not enough to end the pressure. He jumped up from beneath the blanket, out of the bed of the truck and ran to the wood line on the opposite side of the road from where they were parked.

Lana sat up, caught her breath and glimpsed Clark heading to the woods. She saw that a fire had begun in the direction that he was headed and wondered how he had noticed it in the first place. He disappeared into the wood line and shortly afterwards, Clark extinguished the fire or so she suspected.

Clark returned after what seemed an eternity to Lana but was less than ten minutes. She could smell smoke emanating from his clothes. "Good God, Clark…what happened? How did you even notice that fire? I…I don't understand how..." She was caught between amazed at him and angry with him for the interruption.

"I'm sorry, Lana. Just as I looked up, it seemed one of those rockets malfunctioned and shot the woods behind us. I looked back and saw it started a fire. I didn't want it to get out of control so I went to put it out and stayed to make sure it didn't flare up again."

He reached into the bed and grabbed some of the sparkling apple juice and poured some into a cup.

"You smell like a bonfire now, Clark," Lana remarked.

"I apologize," he said, "I really do, Lana." She got up and began folding the blankets. "I didn't intend for that to happen."

"I know," she said dejectedly. "It's not your fault," and handed him the first blanket. "It's just um…"

"Disappointing?" he interjected.

"I was going to say something else, but we'll stick with what you said," she replied. "I think we need to head back now. I can't get into the mood with you smelling like a camp fire." He looked repentant and took the second blanket from her. She leaned and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I guess that's what I get for being in love with a boy scout!"