Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Shape Of My Heart 5/7

Previously on:

And now...


~@*****@~

Clark considered miserably that the heat radiating from his face might just be able to melt all the snow from here clear to Haven.

Could he really have gotten any more pathetic back there? Lois must think he was a prize idiot. Or be laughing herself silly. Or maybe both.

He hauled open the heavy door of the woodshed, shaking his head irritably. He wasn't an idiot. He knew very well that the softness in Lois's eyes back there had little to do with any true feelings towards him and everything to do with what they'd just gone through together. Surviving what they had, sharing the danger and coming through, bred a natural intimacy that would be easy to mistake for something deeper and more significant than was truly there.

Just for a moment though...it had been warming to let himself believe that there was something more than that in those dark eyes. Something...real.

He shook off the melancholy his thoughts were beginning to stir within him. Nothing had changed, after all. He knew what Lois felt for him – what she'd probably always feel for him. Friendship. That was all. It had been friendship when they'd set out for Haven all those hours ago and it remained friendship now. What was the sense in regretting that just because circumstances laid them open to the false comfort and bitter illusion of something more?

Besides, he had more important things to worry about right now. Like making it through the night and getting Lois safely back home. At least the immediate danger of them becoming lost in the woods or freezing to death before morning was no longer a concern. The cabin was sound and comfortable and once he got a fire going....

Wood, came the reminding thought. Yes. Wood...

He searched the dim interior of the shed and found what he was looking for almost immediately, piled in three baskets close to the door. Mentally applauding the cabin's absent owner for his organization, he pulled one of the baskets out into the snow beside him and then moved back into the shed in search of anything else that they might find useful. Two storm lanterns were added to the basket in short order, well topped up with oil. And then his eyes lit as he spied a small camping stove. Not just a welcome fire, but food too, it seemed, was on the menu now. Lois must be starving, he thought with a jolt. With the thought came the sudden realization that he was, too.

The sensation was...weird. He found his mind strangely preoccupied with images of food...steak, cooked just on the turn of rare and smothered in mushroom and onion sauce...pasta al dente, with spices and rich tomato scents...he was beginning to salivate, and that was curiously distracting. He was beginning to understand why Lois insisted on them stocking up on Chinese takeout before tackling a late night story session. Heaven knew how she managed to concentrate at all, if this was what being hungry did for your brain.

Shoving all thoughts of food determinedly to one side, he paused as a small rustle came from behind him, out in the woods. He straightened slowly, heart beginning a slow race against his ribs. Rabbit, probably, he was almost sure. And yet....

He felt suddenly exposed, standing there in the doorway with the darkness of the shed behind him and the moonlight aimed at him like a spotlight. And all at once he was tired of it, tired of feeling that way, of feeling scared and all too aware of his own mortality, his own fragility, in ways he never had to when his powers were intact. He wasn't aware that his hands had tightened into fists, that there was a pulse of anger ticking at his jaw, until he felt the sharp sting in his palms. With a start, he brought up his hand and stared at the perfect half-moons dug into his skin. The anger faded. What was the point of it anyway? Who was he angry at? That mysterious attacker who was back in Metropolis and, for now, out with his reach? The rabbit, that had so scared him? He snorted. Oh, boy, if the press could see you now, Superman, he thought, suddenly overcome with bitter amusement. Spooking at rabbits. Some superhero.

Still, the wary sense of being watched, of threatening danger was hard to dismiss. No matter how scathingly he derided himself for it. They *were* out there. Somewhere. And maybe they had shaken them off, back there in the woods. He was almost sure they had. He hoped they had. But still...

...what if they hadn't?

What if they were still out there? Searching for them. Coming closer. Almost on them...

If only his powers were intact, he thought, gazing out through the open doorway and into the darkness of the trees. He returned to his idea of earlier with the thought. A quick recon above the tree line and he'd be able to pinpoint where their pursuers were exactly. Even deal with them. Yeah, and if his powers were intact they wouldn't be here at all, would they, he thought bitterly. He'd have flown Lois safely back to her apartment long since and she and Clark would be busy writing up the story by now of how they smashed the Haven smuggling ring and put the culprits safely behind bars in the sheriff's office.

He sighed and rubbed cold-stiffened fingers across his forehead. A spike of pain drove into his temple, hot and red, and he winced. Was that a headache he was getting?

He really thought they'd lost them back there. He was almost certain of it. He'd tried listening intently at set intervals and although he hadn't been able to say for an absolute certainty that his powers were online at any point during their flight through the wood, he was sure at one point he'd heard a disgruntled voice order its companions back to the road. Something about...picking them up on the outskirts of town?

He shook his head slightly. Maybe it had been wishful thinking at that. But it made sense. Didn't it? Odds were that he and Lois would have to come out of the woods and get back on the road eventually. The only warmth and safety lay in town. He hoped. Perry had done a background check on Haven's only sheriff before giving them the assignment and there'd been nothing to suggest that he was in league with the gang. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd had a long-running feud with the suspected ring-leader and his brother – a couple of ne'er-do-wells who lived out on the town borders and who'd both spent nights cooling their heels in the cells on petty charges of theft, car-reset, and drunken disorder. There was no love lost there, from all they knew.

And if they knew that he and Lois would have to get to town to survive the night, then what was easier for the gang than to give up a cold, tiring chase through dark woods and blizzard conditions, when they could instead wait in the warmth of their car as they blocked the only road into town and lay in wait for their victims?

He cheered himself slightly by composing a mental image of a gang of disgruntled smugglers waiting impatiently for prey that failed to arrive.

So...yes...he was almost sure they were safe until morning.

Almost.

Almost didn't make him long any the less for the security of his powers, though. Or make him give up the worry gnawing at him.

None of which was getting him any closer to what he'd come looking for, he reminded himself, chiding.

He turned back from the door and set himself to the task at hand. First rule of survival. Deal with the immediate problem. The rest you leave for later.

He cast a quick glance behind him. A glance that was more wary than he wanted to admit to.

Much later – even better never – if you were lucky.

~@*****@~


Lois paused for a moment, standing there in the cabin's shadows, the borrowed clothing clasped to her chest. Then, curious, she limped over to the picture window and peered out...and found her partner doing exactly what he said he would. No lingering, no taking the chance to check her out surreptitiously. He vanished around the cabin's corner and out of sight as she watched. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. He was a strange one.

He hadn't even used the situation to make any suggestive comments, she thought in some astonishment. She couldn't think of a single other guy she'd ever known who would have passed up that chance. Especially in the circumstances.

Lex wouldn't have.

For a moment, her brain balked at the image of Lex being in this situation at all. She simply couldn't imagine him at her side as they'd fled through the woods, couldn't imagine him clambering through the window – he'd have been solicitous and gentlemanly in helping her through so her ankle wouldn't hurt too much, she thought with a wry twist of her lips. She certainly couldn't imagine him roughing it here in an abandoned cabin or being as...well as much of a wilderness scout as Clark had been so far. Lex would have been utterly lost. As much the city greenhorn as she was. Completely at sea. Whereas Clark...had taken charge and set about putting their current small world to rights as best he could without being obnoxiously overbearing about it and – to her surprise – she didn't feel like objecting to that.

But if Lex wouldn't have won any badges for Survival in the Wilderness 101, he would have taken advantage of their situation. Thinking back to the seesaw of emotions she'd experienced earlier, when Clark had been doing nothing more than binding up her ankle, she flushed a little. No, she wasn't blind to the obvious romantic elements here. It was like the plot of every cheap dime store romance novel she'd ever read. Lex would have found the romance in it, she was sure. A cabin in the woods, trapped by blizzards, a log fire and candlelight...what red-blooded male wouldn't?

Except...Clark.

Lois didn't quite know what to make of that. In a way, it was...irritating. And somewhat insulting. Yet in another...soothing. Comfortable. Right. That was the word she was searching for. She felt more comfortable with Clark in this situation than she would have with any other man she knew. Safe. Secure.

And, of course, Lex had certain rights and privileges in the making advances department that Clark didn't. Being that Lex was her...

She paused, a small frown gathering between her brows.

Lex was....

She shook her head, irritated with herself now. For god's sake, she'd been...dating...the man for months now and just recently things had gotten even more intense than that and yet she'd never been able to really define him in her head. And the word boyfriend still sounded way too weird.

She sighed.

Well, if she didn't understand what she was to Lex and he to her, Lex certainly seemed to have it pinned down, if his recent actions where anything to go by. Lex seemed to know exactly what he expected of her, wanted of her....and he had completely blindsided her, coming at her out of the clear blue sky of what she now viewed as a ridiculous naivety and pouncing on her with that...that.... She closed her eyes tight, unable even now to face it. To acknowledge the truth. How could she have missed it? There must have been signs, surely? How could she have been so blind? So stupid?

And what was she going to do about it?

That wayward thought increased the sudden unease that was inexplicably tightening in her chest.

She hated being wrong. She hated being taken by surprise. Ambushed.

She really had thought there was no dating involved. She'd *thought* she'd been enjoying some nice times and good company with a friend. Only seemed Clark had known better than she had when he gave her all those irritating rolling-eyed glances and under his breath snorts of disbelief when she'd insist he was wrong all these months.

Now that she let herself finally consider it, it seemed so obvious, but she'd been in denial almost from the start, convincing herself that they were just two friends enjoying the occasional dinner or visit to the theater. She'd deliberately avoided examining what she was doing hard enough so that she hadn't had to pin it down or define the elusive nature of their...relationship.

Of course, she'd known that Lex was attracted to her – and in truth she hadn't been immune to his considerable charm either. But she'd thought that she'd made the boundaries of their relationship clear even so. Some harmless flirting, enjoying some attentive male company...that was all.

How wrong could a girl get?

The thought that her partner had been right in all those arguments wasn't something she was keen to acknowledge, however.

So, she didn't. Instead, she scowled, pushed Lex and the unwelcome chaos he'd created in her life firmly to that corner of her mind where she stored things she didn't want to drag into the light of day, crated and padlocked and left to moldering attic darkness.

It was her mess, of her own making, she admitted grudgingly, a small spark of light shining on that locked-away corner before she snapped the lid back down on it, and something she would have to fix, deal with, on her own. And hope that her partner never found out how close he'd come to being able to tell her 'told you so'. She didn't think she could live with the embarrassment of that. Not to mention the leverage it would give him. She'd never met a man yet who could resist throwing your mistakes in your face whenever he thought it scored him points in whatever he wanted from you.

The sound of a door banging out in the night made her start and she realized that she'd been standing there for long minutes, making no move to get undressed, wasting time.

Refusing to listen to the small voice in her head that told her she was avoiding something important, pushing it back into the depths of her mind where she wouldn't have to examine it too closely any more, she hurriedly pulled off her damp clothes and pulled on the shirt and jeans that Clark had provided for her.

She was buttoning up the front of the shirt, when a soft knock sounded on the front door. <If he asks if I'm decent...> she thought, feeling a flutter of something close to hysterical laughter welling up from the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay!" she yelled, to forestall him. She didn't think she could take one more page out of 'Snowbound For Love' right now. It was all getting way too surreal to cope with.

~@*****@~

The first thing his partner had pounced on when he returned was the box of cook's matches among his haul. Curiously, she had seemed almost disappointed that he'd found them at first, but whatever that had been about, she'd quickly rallied, patting him on the shoulder as though aware she was being ungrateful, and declaring she was definitely going to make sure she was partnered with him for the next Daily Planet Annual Family Picnic's scavenger hunt. They'd be sure to win with his skills, she confided, adding darkly, unless the team from Accounts cheated again, like they had last time.

Clark hadn't felt qualified to answer to that. He'd tried to make her rest on the sofa, off her injured ankle, but she'd insisted on lighting the candles she'd found all by herself, then the storm lamps as he caved in and handed them over. He might have the scavenging gene, she'd told him, as she'd placed them strategically around the room, but she knew best about home decorating.

Clark had given up.

He had to admit she'd done good, though. The cabin's main living space had taken on a cozy atmosphere in the steady glow of the storm lamps she'd set on the side tables and mantle and Lois's candles augmented the soft light with their flickering glow, here and there.

They'd closed over the shutters again, shutting out the cold and the snowstorm. At least, that had been the reason they told themselves. Neither of them spoke of anything else that might make them nervous of having the dark out there pressed tight against that vast expanse of glass or the itch it set between their shoulder blades. As though eyes peered in at them from the thick shadows of the wood. Overhead, the wind whipped and howled around the eaves, but it was muted, its soft roar adding to the sense of warmth and companionship, rather than destroying it.

He'd pulled the sofa closer to the fire. It was large enough to comfortably accommodate two, though it would be a tight squeeze if they slept. His palms grew damp at the thought, but being a gentleman and leaving it to Lois would be foolish. He felt that they were reasonably secure here, but if they were attacked in the night, he didn't want to be trying to find Lois first before thinking about escape. Sticking close together was prudent, in the circumstances. And besides, the added warmth wouldn't go amiss.

Especially if he couldn't get a decent fire going, he thought with a sigh. He crouched down by the pile of logs. What he really needed was something to draw it out. But what he may have been able to gather out in the woods – moss, leaves, small twigs – were frozen solid under feet of snow. It didn't help that the wood itself was slightly damp. He glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder to where Lois had at last settled on the sofa. She'd handed him one of the matches a moment earlier and given him a bright smile that said she had full confidence in him. He hadn't the heart to tell her it was useless. With just damp wood to sustain it, this fire was going to need more than just one tiny kitchen match to set it ablaze. But...he had to light this somehow. She was counting on him. Maybe he could just try...

He turned back to the fire, eased his glasses down his nose, and leaned close to the fireplace. For disappointing seconds nothing happened, and then, to his surprise and no small amount of relief, the center of the pile of firewood produced a faint tendril of smoke, which gradually grew thicker. Clark narrowed his eyes determinedly, concentrating, focusing.... The middle of the pile exploded into flame with a faint pop and in under a minute the fire was already well caught and taking hold.

"Wow..."

Clark started at the voice up against his left ear. He turned his head sharply. Lois was hanging over the arm of the sofa directly behind him and peering over his shoulder with an impressed look on her face.

"That was quick!"

"Uh...yeah..." Clark hastily pushed his glasses back into place and coughed uncomfortably. Had she seen – ?

"Amazing," Lois went on. She gave him what could only be termed a condescending pat on the shoulder. "Guess those boy scout years really paid off, huh?" She beamed at him and snuggled deeper into the sofa's curves, pulling the blankets higher around her shoulders.

Clark briefly closed his eyes and offered up a prayer to all the patron saints, gods and holy angels that protected superheroes before he rose to his feet.

"So, any room under there - ?" He gestured at the thick chenille blankets she'd swathed herself in.

"Just for a little one," Lois finished for him, her eyes alight with impish mischief in the flickering light.

He lifted a brow and saw her color deepen just a little as the nuances made clear by his amused response to what she'd just said suddenly occurred to her too. Then embarrassment seemed to fade as that mischievous sparkle grew. As she rose to the challenge he'd unwittingly and silently advanced. Clark had the impression that he was suddenly in a whole peck of trouble. He'd seen that look before. And it never bode well.

"Although..." She straightened a little. The tip of her tongue emerged to trace the line of her bottom lip as she considered him thoughtfully and intently. "...not sure you qualify on that criteria..."

And now her gaze traveled over him, almost caressing him from top to toe, before her eyes reversed their slow journey and found his face again. What was in her eyes now could only be called...sultry, he decided, and felt his own face flush with heat as he gulped around the tightening in his throat. Deep in his belly something else tightened in response to that smoky stare also. Clark resisted the urge to find something to cover himself with. He hadn't ever felt this exposed to her, even when wearing the Suit. And there had been times when that had been a close call.

He heard a throaty chuckle and realized he'd just had the tables turned on him. He didn't know whether to feel relief or...disappointment. Had she just been teasing him to score a point? Was there nothing more than that in her...inspection of him? Her sudden playfulness? Was it inspired simply by that notorious Lane need for one-upmanship and no more than that? No feeling behind it at all?

He shouldn't really care, he told himself.

But he did.

He felt the sudden need to change the subject, draw back from the abyss that somehow seemed to have just yawned open at his feet. Lois seemed to sense his discomfort, because her color heightened and she drew back, glancing behind him.

"What's that?"

"Oh, camping stove." He sloshed the container experimentally. "There's not much fuel left in it, but there should be enough to cook us up something hot to drink. Maybe even some soup, if I can find some in the kitchen."

"That's very...resourceful," she said.

Clark looked up at her quickly. But, for once, she didn't seem to be mocking him. There was something in her face that might even be...was she...impressed? She smiled warmly at him and he found himself smiling back.

"I'll just go see what I can rustle up," he said.

In the kitchen he discovered that, bizarrely, while there was plenty of canned soup stacked in the overhead cupboards, it wasn't exactly what he'd expected to find. Soup was practically a staple of lakeside cabins, of course, of any camping trip or outdoor vacation – nutritious, cheap, the quickest way to a hot, filling meal when you desperately needed one and, canned, it would keep indefinitely. It was just that in his experience they usually came in basic flavors like tomato or chicken. He surveyed the can in his hand with something like bemusement and then shrugged. It would be hot, which was the main thing. He picked out another and then rummaged around for a pan.

Returning to the living room, he opened his mouth to ask the obvious question given the results of his search, and then paused to lean up against the doorjamb instead, his attention suddenly rapt. Lois was deep in thought and oblivious to his return, lost in the fire's dancing flames as she stared pensively into the hearth. His eyes sought out the well-remembered curves and planes of her face, painted now with the shifting shadows of light and dark in the room's lambent light. Her eyes glowed with it, miniature flames held there, heating her gaze to something approaching a glamour of passion. Her hair had dried out now, fluffed around her like a halo, drifting against her shoulders, gleaming darkly, and the plaid shirt, tucked tight into the waistband of the blue jeans and cinched with a leather belt fitted itself to her soft upper curves in ways that made desire twist in his belly.

He forced his gaze back up to her face and away from that dangerous appreciation and caught by how far away she was, somewhere far distant from him and the cabin, he found himself suddenly wanting to know what mysteries she was finding in the shifting flames, what they spoke to her of. Where they had taken her.

Perhaps he made some sound, maybe he shifted as his body tightened in response to his appreciative thoughts and that soft longing that had flared up in his heart all at once. Whatever made her aware of him, she turned her head towards him, the distance in her eyes fading as she came back from where her thoughts and the heart of the flames had taken her. She looked at him questioningly. "My stomach hopes you found something," she told him.

He grinned. "Well, after a fashion. So..." He held up the cans for her inspection. "Highland Game or Lobster Bisque?"

Lois lifted a sharp brow and then rolled her eyes. "Oh, puhlease..."

He chuckled. She'd already made him more than aware of her disdain for the 'pretty boy, neat-freak, techno-geek wannabe' owner of the cabin. "Highland Game it is then. I think that means venison," he added, scanning the label thoughtfully. "We can save the lobster for later."

He busied himself with setting up their meal, gratefully letting the task cool his thoughts. Silence settled on the room again, a friendly silence, replete with the lazy warmth engendered by their exhaustion and the aftermath of exertion, worry and concern. It was...nice, he thought, as he opened the cans of soup and poured them into the pan. Comfortable. Actually, it was *really* nice. It reminded him of a few quiet moments they'd had once before, in his apartment as they'd let Alan Morris sleep on the sofa behind them. He had made his favorite specialty tea for them both. Lois hadn't been keen, she was more a coffee person, always had been, but to his surprise the vaguely spiced, Oriental blend had gone over well with her and she'd declared that it both smelled and tasted delicious. Later, the night had been cool and quiet as they'd stood on his balcony and for some reason she had softened enough to trade childhood secrets with him. It had been both intimate and yet devoid of the tension that usually marked their relationship. And he had held it deep within him as a treasured memory ever since.

Full of the warming glow those memories provoked, he glanced over at his partner and his satisfaction died. She'd returned to her study of the fire. A small frown puckered her brow now and he thought that she looked less pensive as he'd supposed a moment earlier than she did...melancholy. Sad, he thought, surprised. She looked sad.

"Penny for them," he said after a moment's study of her and she blinked, focusing on him once more. She looked a little disconcerted and then she smiled, a sudden gleam igniting in her eyes.

"Worth diamonds at least," she told him archly.

He gave her an amused look as he pressed the stove's ignition button and then turned the resulting pop of flame down low over the pan of soup. "Taught you that at your European finishing school, did they?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. First thing a girl learns."

He arched a brow at her. "What's the second thing?"

She grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well...yes..."

"Sorry. Restricted to a need to know basis," she said.

He moved to settle himself on the sofa beside her, gratefully taking the share of the blankets she offered him. The chill seemed to have seeped its way down the very bones of him and he was beginning to think he'd never really feel truly warm again. He snuggled deeper into the welcome warmth with a contented sigh and Lois glanced at him with a small grin, obviously recognizing the sentiment.

"Course, if you had any diamonds on you, I might be persuaded to reveal a few...trade secrets...." she added impishly.

He made a show of checking the pockets of the jeans and shirt he'd changed into and then shook his head with a mock rueful grimace. "Nope. No diamond bracelets, no necklaces, no rings..." He shrugged.

All at once, the levity in her face died. There was a sudden frisson of tension in the air. She drew back slightly as he watched her, puzzled by the sudden switch in her attitude. "Rings..." she said, looking abruptly away from him. She became mired in a study of the pattern on the blanket, fingers tracing its shapes.

"Lois?" he said, a little worried now.

She shrugged. "I've been...wanting to talk to you about...something. Something...important." She sighed and glanced up at him. "Except I'm not sure you're the best person to ask."

He was surprised at the small piercing hurt that her reluctance to confide in him caused in his heart. "Lois...." He leaned forward, capturing her fingers in his, stilling their fitful picking at the blanket's threads. "I'm your friend. If there's something bothering you, you can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything," he assured her earnestly.

"No...no, not *bothering*...exactly.... And this...." She chewed on her bottom lip, obviously undecided, then blurted, "It's about Lex." She winced, and he eased up on the grip that had become reflexively tighter, contrite. She gazed up at him with eyes that harbored unease and then said softly, "He...he asked me to marry him."

He couldn't help it. He had loosened his grip, straightened away from her, body stiffening almost before he realized he was doing it. There was a beat of blood thundering in his chest and he had to swallow hard around the sudden rock lodged in his throat before he said hoarsely, "*Did* he...." And winced inwardly at the sharp bite in that that he hadn't really intended to let loose.

Lois reached out, but he twisted away, throwing aside the blanket as he got to his feet with a convulsive movement. "Soup's burning," he said as he crouched down beside the stove, presenting his back to her. She said nothing, didn't point out the obvious lie. He stirred listlessly at the lukewarm liquid for a moment before he worked up enough courage to say quietly, "You're thinking about accepting?" The question sounded cold in his ears, frigid as the ice outside. In his heart there was a storm of that ice raging, just as fierce as the one nature was dashing against the cabin.

She didn't answer immediately and he fought back a small whisper of hope. His fingers were cramping around the stem of the spoon. He eased their tight grip and, steeling himself for what he might find in her face, looked over his shoulder at her.

But there was no pity there, no dismay. "That's what dinner was supposed to be about tonight," Lois said. "I was...going to give him an answer.

She looked miserable now and his heart ached, wanting to go take her in his arms, comfort her. Tell her it was all right. Tell her that whatever she decided was okay by him. That he'd support her, whatever she did. That was what friends were for? Right? That was what a friend would do.

Except, that he couldn't. He couldn't tell her that because it wouldn't be true. Because if she decided to marry that loathsome...monster...he would...

He would die.

Oh, perhaps not literally. Nothing so melodramatic. He wouldn't hurl himself from a cliff-top, clutching a single red rose. But something would die in him just the same. Wither like a canker inside. Life would be dark.

Impossible.

Unbearable.

She couldn't marry Luthor! She couldn't! How could she even be contemplating it? Didn't she know? Couldn't she see what he was?

He couldn't let her.

He couldn't even lie to himself, tell himself that it was for her own good - although he knew that to be a truth nonetheless. His motives were nothing less than purely selfish. He understood that. But he didn't care. Couldn't allow himself to care. Dammit, she belonged with him! He'd known that from the first moment she'd come storming into Perry's office that first day, energy like a tornado crackling around her, blinding him, dazzling him...

"...but I don't know." Lois looked up at him and he became dimly aware that she'd been talking. He hadn't heard a word. "What do you think I should do?" she asked and then, before he could move to answer, before he could think of an answer to give her, she'd shaken her head and moved to her feet. He rose to his, feeling too exposed, too vulnerable, not to meet her on even ground. She wavered on her feet a little, favoring her ankle with a slight grimace, and his sudden reach to steady her was instinctive. He flinched though as it brought them in close.

"No, don't answer that." She laid a quick hand on his arm, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Clark. This isn't fair, I know that. I shouldn't be asking you this, not when you - " She sighed, taking back her hand, perhaps becoming aware of the way muscle and sinew had grown taut and tense beneath her touch. "God, this is just so...difficult."

Her gaze returned to the fire as she lost herself in it, hands moving restlessly on her arms, as though rubbing clear a sudden chill. The awkward silence stretched as they stood there, side by side, and yet further apart than he had ever known. She felt so far away from him, as though already lost forever, and he had no way he knew to draw her back.

tbc...