I so blame all of you for giving me all these comments so quickly. I'm posting now against my better judgment! The extra I have written (to give me a little slack and to ease the pressure) is dwindling rapidly! But I really wanted to get the next part out. Then you guys can send out the men with the pointy sticks to hurry me up. So here you go, part 6! Thanks so much for all the helpful comments.
I especially want to thank Elisabeth. She commented so much last time I wanted to cry! It was the nicest feedback ever.
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From Part 5
An hour later, Lois pushed back her food and leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face.
“That was delicious. Thanks for letting me eat with you guys,” Lois said to no one in particular. She reached into her purse to hand Mr. Kent some bills to cover her meal, but he looked scandalized at the thought.
“No, no put that money away! I’ll take care of it.”
“But Mr. Kent, you came here with your parents. You didn’t expect a whole other meal to pay for.”
Clark glanced at her plate of spaghetti. “Yes, like you were so expensive. It’s fine, please. I insist.”
Clark was already handing his credit card to the waiter and a few moments later the bill was all paid for. Grumbling slightly as she stood, Lois followed him and his parents out the door. It was as they were walking out that a horrible thought hit her.
He was going to drive her home! To the apartment she lived in *alone*. It was obvious from the outside that the rooms inside were for singles or couples. He couldn’t find out that she didn’t live with her family. Heaving a big sigh as she climbed in his car, she directed him to her parent’s house. Great. Lucy would throw a fit.
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Part 6 After Clark’s parents had gone to bed, he remained seated, staring into the fire. It stung that Lois had been to dinner with such an older man. Why was she doing this? First she hung around Lexy and Jill, the scourge of Metropolis High School and now she was seeing some greasy Frenchman? Nothing added up and it certainly didn’t fit her character.
He regretted losing so much control. He shouldn’t have risen to the man’s bait. But the alternative was unpalatable. That man didn’t look like he was expecting anything platonic. Clark’s stomach dropped at the thought of Lois sleeping with that man. She was too young. Much too young. And Claude had heartbreak written all over him.
Clark stretched out the couch and tried to sleep, but it eluded him. He kept seeing the frightened look on her face when Claude had come over. Lois Lane didn’t seem like the kind of person who scared easily and the fact was verified when she had replaced the expression with a sort of fixed glare. But she had been covering her feelings. He tossed over onto his side and stared at the cushion of his couch. Why was he even thinking about her? He had done his part. Swept in, played the disapproving father and brought her home chastened. She was safe tonight, and he felt a bubble of relief rise up in his chest.
He’d feel the same if he ran into any of his students, he thought as he turned again to stare into the dying flames. If he had run into Kaitlin there for example, dining with a 30-year-old man, he’d certainly put a halt to it. And Dana too. He started naming off all of the girls in his classes as he let his eyes slip shut. When he got to Jill Reynolds the drowsy stupor his counting had left him in halted slightly. He’d save her too. Feeling extremely magnanimous at this revelation, Clark drifted off into sleep.
He was dancing with Lana at some black tie event. She looked beautiful and she smiled at him, saying something he couldn’t catch. It didn’t matter. He grinned back, his heart feeling light and airy. He could see his parents at a table behind the dance floor, sitting with Kaitlin, Lois, Jill and Mr. Scott, the principal. This odd collection of people didn’t faze him, however, nor did it seem unusual. He turned back to Lana and kissed her, closing his eyes in bliss.
When his eyes drifted open again, he was dancing with Lois Lane. It didn’t seem strange to him though and he sighed. Lois put her arms around his neck and he pulled her to him. This felt nice. It felt right. He leaned down to kiss her, but as soon as their lips touched the scene changed. He was forcibly torn apart from her and the warm, rosy glow of the room had diffused. The lighting now looked cold, sterile and he finally noticed that Lois’ dress was the exact same as Lana’s. Lana! His mind violently revolted. What had he done? Where was she? Desperate, he grabbed Lois’ arm and asked her if she knew where his wife was. She shrugged and Clark grimaced.
“You kissed me, Clark,” she said softly. The name sounded odd on her tongue and he realized she had never called him that before. It was always Mr. Kent. Mr. Kent! Wait! Lois Lane was his *student*! His eyes widened in shame at what he had done and the urge to find his wife beat faster through his blood.
“Where is she?!” He shouted, willing the noise in the place to die down.
Lois looked unfazed by his angry words.
“She’s gone. She left.”
“No, no she didn’t!”
A new voice joined them. “She’s gone,” his father said.
“She left,” His mother added right after him.
“No! She’s not gone!”
Lois put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You kissed me.”
“I did, but—”
He blinked furiously and suddenly found Doug Scott standing in front of him. He was standing with Kaitlin, her arm through his.
“See, if you can date Lois, then I think I can date Kaitlin,” he said jovially. No! Clark tried to grab Kaitlin away, but she spun just out of his reach, laughing. That was wrong. He wasn’t her age. She was too young!
“Clark, you’re going to wake up someday,” Lois said from behind him, slipping a hand down his back. He turned and shoved it off, feeling pressured from all sides.
“It’s okay, honey, wake up,” His mother said. He whimpered in response, his mind replaying his kiss with Lois. “Wake up.”
“Clark, wake up!”
Clark wrenched himself away and barely had time to gasp before he plummeted down five feet to the sofa. It creaked ominously beneath his weight and he gazed up into the concerned faces of his parents.
“Hi,” he said a little weakly, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Are you okay, honey?” His mom sat down on the side of the sofa and touched the back of his hand. “You were shouting something awful out here.”
“It was just a nightmare,” he said, shrugging off his mother’s touch.
“Have you been having these frequently?” His father interrupted. Clark watched the look his parents gave each other. To tell the absolute truth, he hadn’t been plagued by nightmares in a long time. It had been two years since Lana had died and while in the months immediately following, she was a constant nightly visitor, the dreams had dwindled since then into nothingness. He actually managed to get through most of his day without dwelling too heavily on her.
Until tonight. But the horrifying part of the dream hadn’t been seeing Lana and being torn apart from her. That was more or less the usual in his nightmares. He could handle that. Lately, if his dreams were restless he made himself some hot chocolate and it put him back to sleep in no time. No, tonight was different. He had, oh God, he had dreamed about kissing one of his students! There were laws against that sort of thing. He didn’t find her attractive, he told himself firmly. She was 17-years-old. Beautiful, yes. But there were many beautiful girls in his life. He racked his mind for one and stubbornly decided that there was. He just couldn’t think of her at the moment. And she was smart, but he was a teacher! He was surrounded by intelligent women.
Most of whom were about thirty years older than him, but that didn’t matter either.
None of these were acceptable excuses for dreaming about his student. Disgusted with himself, he answered his mother a little more curtly than he had intended.
“I’m fine, mom!” His mother withdrew, giving her son a hurt look. Dropping his head in one hand, he spoke without glancing up from his knee. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But I’m fine. Please go back to bed.”
He could feel his parents’ concerned gazes linger on his form for a moment, but finally they acquiesced to his request. His mother kissed his cheek as she stood and his father patted his back as they left for Clark’s master bedroom.
The fire had died completely and as his parents snapped off the light, the room plunged into darkness. His cheeks burned, though no one was witness to it. He felt the shame pour over him, suffocating his body and mind.
His thoughts shifted to Lana, and the night they had first kissed.
Their senior year in high school. The Smallville Bears had just crushed their rivals in the homecoming game and he was looked up to as the hero of the game. Despite the little bit of nagging in his mind that told him there was a dark reason why he was so wonderful at the sport, he was ecstatic.
After he had caught the touchdown that won the game, he was mobbed by his teammates, his coaches, the fans. The air burned with the scent of tailgating and fall and the blue and gold of his team replaced the world’s color. Exhilarated crowds crushed him as they all yelled their victory and the fans decked themselves out with face paint and toted posters that looked slightly bedraggled after the game.
And there, amidst the sweaty bodies and screaming town, he caught Lana’s eye as she leaned against the bleachers, looking cool and collected among the fray. He pushed his way through, never taking his eyes off the girl who had agreed to go out with him.
Buoyed by the crowd’s festivity, he marched straight up to her and kissed her, his heart pounding wildly in his ears. After a moment she pulled back and gave him a sly, secret smile.
That smile had surpassed all of the rest of the evening. He returned home and immediately grabbed every single yearbook he owned. It was quite a few, considering he had bought one every year he had been at school since kindergarten. He lined them up and opened them to her picture. There she was. He watched her grow from a pigtailed, white blond kindergartener to a freckled, glasses wearing middle schooler and finally to the sleek honey-blonde she was today. He had known her family forever. She had made him cry in the first grade, he remembered with a wry grin, after she had pointed out that his shirt was on backwards and that he wore two different kinds of shoes. He had been embarrassed. That was when his mother had been laid up with the flu, he remembered vaguely. He must have dressed himself that day. And then in the fourth grade they had been partners in the science fair. Their project, an in-depth analysis and search for the longest lasting gum flavors hadn’t won them any prizes, but it was definitely one of the more fun times he had that year. They had given away sticks of gum at their table and while theirs wasn’t the most scientific booth at the fair, it was by far the most popular.
Clark smiled as he continued to look at the yearbooks. There, in the seventh grade yearbook was a candid shot of him and Lana dancing together—their bodies at least two feet apart— at the Halloween dance. She was dressed as a ballerina and he was a vampire. They both beamed at the camera, Clark’s plastic fangs distorting his real smile. They had grown up together and by the ninth grade she was his best friend. They spent nearly every afternoon that summer swimming in the pond or lounging around the Dairy Queen, splitting sundaes and using the spot as a meeting place with their friends.
The unthinkable had occurred in tenth grade. He had been helping his father paint over the glaring red of their barn with a more subtle white. The red kept peeking through the white paint however, giving the entire barn a pink tinge. Clark and his father both were growing frustrated with lugging the ladder back and forth. Finally, his father went in the house to grab a sandwich and Clark glared at the paint cans and the half finished barn. It was doubly frustrating because he knew he could have the whole thing done in under a minute if his father would just let him use his stupid “gifts.” He was concerned by how much his father complained about a pain in his back. The constant movement wasn’t doing anything for that hurt. His father would forgive him. Glancing around to be sure he was alone, he grabbed the paint cans and flew up to the top of the barn. He paused for a moment and then a Clark colored blur zoomed around the barn, painting layer upon layer on the house. He used up their paint supplies and finally stepped back to survey his handiwork. The house gleamed a pristine white, no red peeking out at all. He heard the crack of brittle leaves as his father approached and he turned, grinning in modest pleasure at his work.
Lana stood there, staring at him in horror.
Dread rapidly replaced his insides. Stupid! Stupid, Clark! His father had warned him about this. He had been careless.
“Lana!” He shouted as she began to run. He took off after her, easily overtaking her without even the benefit of his super speed. “Lana, wait.” He grabbed her arm and a spike of pain struck his heart when she flinched.
“Lana, please. Let me explain.”
She glared at him, but it wasn’t the defiant anger he was used to. This was painful. There was fear mixed in her eyes. There, in the girl who had split sundaes and memories with him, was panic. She was frightened by him. His life story spilled out of him then, as he spoke fast and jumbled his words. He tried to will her to understand that it was still him, he wasn’t any different. They stood there in the wheat field for a long while, the golden plants swaying around their bodies. Finally, after the outpouring of words had stopped, he looked at her in apprehension.
Had he lost her?
She turned from him, folding her arms protectively. A swift gust of October wind sliced the air and Clark shrugged out of his sweatshirt. She took the shirt wordlessly and pulled it over her head. That more than anything relieved him. She wasn’t repulsed by his things at least. Finally she gave him a tiny smile and a nod.
She wouldn’t tell anyone. But he had to promise her he’d be more careful. “Not everyone will be as forgiving as I am,” she told him softly. At the time he had been so relieved that she was speaking to him the words barely registered. Later, as he reviewed their conversation from every angle, the words stung. She thought his existence was something to be forgiven. He told his parents that she knew the secret but he never repeated that bit to them. It festered inside of him, easy to forget when the sun was shining and Lana was smiling but painful in the dark nights.
Clark abruptly shut his yearbook. Things were okay now. He was a big senior. The football team adored him. Lana had finally managed to get past seeing him as the freak boy who could bench press semis. In fact, she had actually sneakily insinuated that he use his freezing breath to salvage their melting ice cream the other day.
She had accepted him and tonight they had kissed. A broad smile slid across his face as he took a flying leap on his bed, halting a quarter centimeter above the mattress. His dreams that night were pleasant and full of Lana Lang.
Clark stirred from his musings, fully aware that he wasn’t a senior in high school anymore. Lana and he had dated all through college and married right after. His first love, he thought a little wistfully. Though she wasn’t perfect, she had brightened his day. He had someone to confide in, a genuine partner. He had lost her though, and he had to square with that.
But why on earth was the only woman he had found himself dreaming about since his wife’s passing only 17-years-old? Were the fates taunting him? Laughing at his plight? His thoughts grew more and more fantastical and he finally reeled himself in. What was this? He was a wreck. Lois Lane was not in his thoughts. He had dreamt about her, yes. The thought of her sleeping with Claude—or anyone else—seriously disturbed him, true. But that didn’t mean anything. She was just there. His feelings were fluctuating as his grief began to fade. Obviously his subconscious latched onto the person he had seen that day. As he thought through his situation logically, the panic in his heart began to die down. He wasn’t attracted to his student. That would be wrong. And Clark Kent was a straight arrow kind of guy.
Clark snuggled down on the couch to sleep, ignoring the pitiful part of his conscious that told him he was lying to himself.
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“You’re warm for his form, aren’t you?”
Lois gave her sister a baleful glance over the tub of Rocky Road ice cream they were sharing. At her silence, Lucy let out a squeal and Lois viciously stabbed the rock hard, sugary confection.
“You know it’s not so hard for me to imagine this as your head,” Lois ground out as she bit down on the spoon and jerkily chewed. Lucy was positively beaming.
“I told you so. I so told you. Didn’t I tell you? I told you you’d think he was hot,” Lucy crowed. “And what’s this? You eat dinner with him and his folks? He saves you from a sleazy Frenchman? It’s so much *better* than I ever imagine! Lois, your life is a hell of a lot more fascinating than Days of our Lives.”
“You’re too gracious, Luce.”
Lucy tucked a pajama clad leg under her as she shifted on the chair to rest her chin on her hand. “Aww, come on Lois. You know I’m just kidding. Well not really, you actually are more interesting than Days of our Lives. They keep focusing in on Tony the comatose firefighter. Seriously. Why focus on him? It’s annoying. When you get you job at the Daily Planet will you write me a scathing review?”
Lucy continued on without waiting for Lois to continue. “This is so much fun. I miss you, you know. Want to stay here at Mom’s for a while? It’d help your cover,” Lucy held out the last r in a trill.
“That’s just annoying. Not persuasive at all.”
“But back to boys. Mr. Kent. Or Clark,” she drew out every syllable of the name. “I can’t believe you called him that here. It just slipped out so naturally. Just how much are you thinking about him these days?”
Lois sighed and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly three a.m. She really should be heading to bed soon, but she found she was too keyed up to even contemplate it. Besides, as much as Lucy’s riling annoyed her, she was her little sister and she had missed her.
But she couldn’t tell Lucy that!
“I’m not thinking of him at all! I just want to solve this case. I’m running out of time you know. Mr. White only gave me so long. I’ve been undercover a week and a half already.”
“That’s not that long,” Lucy said helpfully, trying to console her older sister. “Plus, you’ve done loads better than I had ever thought. I can’t believe Lexy and Jill are already letting you try out to be a Rosette.”
Lois nodded, pleased with Lucy’s admiration. She decided to grant her little sister a bit of a concession. “And fine, you win. I think Clark Kent is a really cute, really decent guy.” Lois sighed as she morosely stabbed the ice cream. “But that’s not really here nor there. He thinks I’m a kid, Luce. And it really… well,” she paused and gave Lucy a wry smile. “To put it in your language… it really sucks.”
Lucy laughed aloud and high fived her sister. “Nice to see high school is getting to you. Pretty soon you’ll be using chat speak in your emails.”
Lois’ gaze darkened. “Don’t hold your breath.”
The smile on Lucy’s face dimmed somewhat as she took in her sister’s words. She hadn’t ever heard Lois sound actually dejected by a guy before. Usually they either caved and dated her or they bolted and she’d be so furious she’d hate their guts. This strange, glum middle ground left Lucy a little hesitant.
“You really like him?”
“I think he’d be exactly the kind of guy I’d be looking for,” Lois started slowly. It seemed like the words took a long time to form around her lips. A harsh look came back in her gaze a moment later. “If I was looking for anyone, that is. Which I’m not.”
“Sure, sure,” Lucy placated mindlessly, her brain whirring. She paused. “Lois? Hey, I know this is kind of a sudden idea…” Lucy trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the next part of her query. “But have you ever thought of just… telling him? Letting him know the score? He could help you, I’m sure of it. Mr. Kent knows all of his students very well. He makes it a point to do so. Maybe you know, if you told him, you could work together on the case. Then, when it was all finished he’d be done seeing you as an untouchable 17-year-old and as the beautiful, successful woman you are.”
The shock in Lois’ eyes was easy to read but hard to place. Was she shocked at Lucy’s suggestion? Lucy cringed and looked down at the melting chocolate chunk in front of her.
Which was why when Lois threw herself in her arms, the breath was knocked out of her.
“Ahh! Lois! Get off me,” Lucy tried to shove her sister’s strangling arms away. “Get off!”
When Lois finally pulled back, her eyes were slightly misty and it alarmed Lucy much more than the tackle hug had. “What? What?”
“You’re a good sister, Lucy Lane,” Lois said, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry I’m crying. I think it’s a mix of the stress and some old fashioned PMS.”
“I’m not sure if I wanted to know that, Lois.”
Lois gave her another watery grin and Lucy sighed. To hell with it. She pulled her unflappable older sister into a hug and held on tight. “So you’ll consider telling Mr. Kent about you? I just want you to be happy.”
When Lois spoke it was muffled against her shoulder. “I know you do, Lucy. Thank you.”
“So you’ll do it?” Lucy pressed.
Lois’ voice rang loud and clear, even from where it was muffled against the cotton of Lucy’s ancient Metropolis Middle School gym shirt. “Are you crazy? And risk being scooped? Hell, no.”
Lucy started to laugh, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. That was her fireball sister. She was back.
“Good. I’d hate to have to covet your husband at the wedding.”
“Covet?”
“Psh, yeah. I’d be trying to seduce him before the wedding. One Lane sister is as good as the next, right?”
“I hate you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Lois said petulantly. She wriggled out of Lucy’s arms and dove for her spoon. “But all this talk means more ice cream. You up for a run to that all night grocery store?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I am. The unbeatable team Lane and Lane strike again!”
“Just when there’s ice cream involved.”
“Of course.”
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So there you go.
Missy told me that I should give some introspection into Lara. Why did Clark love her? I hoped this chapter revealed that. He did love her. It was innocent, she was his best friend. But as you can tell, it wasn't a soul shattering kind of love. Clark was devastated by her death, true, but he loved her. It's in his nature to be passionate and so he was passionate in his grief. I'm sure he even carries some misguided guilt complex that it was his fault. But I hope this chapter made it clear that while he loved her, he's beginning to heal.
But since he thoughts are taking him to a forbidden direction... We'll just have to see how it all turns out! Thanks for reading.
--Laura
