I know I've been spotty posting this, and I apologize. With so much going on it's nearly impossible for me to get a part up on a regular basis. That's why I'm partial to just posting the completed work on the archive.

But for the few that care, here's another part. And hopefully we can finish this out in a few days.

Enjoy!

++++

He'd been right. He was his own prisoner. He alone chose to distance himself from others for fear of how they would handle being dragged into the press. Deb had pointed out to him, albeit painfully, on Friday night that it wasn't his choice to make. He had to give others that option, just as it had been with Lana.

And that was what he feared most. He would lay himself out there, fall even deeper than he was now- if that was possible- only to have her decide later that being in the spotlight was too much. How would he live through that? How could he possibly share himself so completely, then lose that?

How could he stop himself from trying? Scott had been the one to ask that question. Somewhere after hello their conversation had turned toward his decision to stay away from Lois. And they knew it was *his* decision. They were Lois' friends, too. She probably hadn't volunteered a thing. This crowd had a way of drawing it out of you. They'd been respectful of his privacy at the lake, but now that he was a full fledged member of their group, the gloves were off. They hadn't held back a single punch either.

'Just talk to her', Deb had told him. 'Didn't he want the things he'd written about in his book?'

Things weren't like they were in fantasy, he'd pointed out. 'And they never would be if he didn't even try.'

Dave had been the one to put it into perspective. He'd been right, too. He'd never know how things could be if he didn't try.

Could he do that? Could he try? Would Lois give him that chance? Obviously she still cared or Deb and the others wouldn't have been so intent on convincing him to see her.

God, how he wanted to see her, hear her speak, touch her. He still had those first messages she'd left on his machine. He played them so he could hear her voice. But it wasn't the same as standing across from her, watching her expressions change, feeling her excitement.

Clark found himself unable to function another day without speaking to Lois. He picked up the cordless phone and eased out onto his balcony. He dialed a number he'd never forget.

"Hi! You've missed me. I have something pressing somewhere else right now. If it's Wednesday, I'm at the gym. If it's Nunk, no comment." He smiled at that. "Oh, and if this, by some small miracle, happens to be Clark, you know where I'm at. Come see me." There was a pause and he expected to hear the beep. Instead, he heard, "And, Farm boy, I... I love you." The beep blared in his ear, but he couldn't say a word. He just stared at the phone. That was the first time he'd actually heard those words. He'd known how she'd felt. She'd made that clear in the gallery that day. He'd actually used her 'moment of wonderful' line in his book. Hearing her say it though, was breathtaking. Yeah, Deb and the others had said she still cared, but he hadn't honestly expected it to be true.

He clicked the phone off without leaving a message. What did he say to that? Oh, hi. It's Clark. I love you, too? Scott would probably say that was exactly what he should say.

Pushing to his feet, he dropped the phone and shot into the air. Flying always seemed to help him clear his head.

He'd done a heck of lot of flying over the past few months.

Friday night found him pacing the floor of his apartment, his mind replaying the message on Lois' machine again and again. He'd told himself that it was just an old message she'd forgotten to change. And when he felt he'd go mad, he snatched up the phone to prove it to himself.

"Sorry. Gone again. If it's Friday, I'm trying to keep Scott from driving home drunk. Still no comment, Nunk. I'll be at the lake until Sunday night, so you'll have a wait for me to get back to you." A pause. "And, Farm boy, I haven't changed my mind yet."

It hadn't been an old message. She'd recorded it on purpose. Did she mean it? Why hadn't she tried to see him?

"Easy, lunkhead," he said aloud. "You basically blew her off. She's been giving you time." He sighed and sank down onto the sofa. "What now, Kent?"

****

Clark paced back and forth outside Lois' building. She wasn't home yet; he'd already checked. "This is crazy," he told himself. Just go home, he thought. She doesn't need you. She doesn't deserve being stuck in your shadow. He'd convinced himself again that Lois was better off without him and had turned to walk down the sidewalk, when he heard her.

"Leaving without saying hi?"

He froze, his heart thundering loudly in his chest. As if his feet had a mind of their own, he'd turned to face her. His breath left him in a rush. She was more beautiful than he remembered. "Hi," he managed lamely.

"Hi, yourself," she told him with a smile.

God, how he loved to see that smile. After everything that had happened, he instantly relaxed. "I was just... in the neighborhood."

She eyed him closely, not for one moment convinced. "Signing autographs for the new book?"

"Ah... I guess not," he finally said with the hint of a smile, thrusting his hands into his pockets. Both stood there as fresh snow began to fall.

"So..." Lois said.

"Yeah..." He looked up at her, then down the street. "I should probably let you get inside. It's starting to come down pretty good."

Lois looked up to watch the flakes dance in the lights. "Yeah." But she didn't move.

Clark had been studying the ground again, terrified to look at her. What did he say to her? Sorry I broke your heart? Yeah, well, mine's been killing me, too. He decided instead on, "I, ah, I saw Scott and Deb and the others."

"Deb told me... and I saw the pictures." She gave a short snort of laughter. "Loved what Scott told the press."

"Yeah," Clark agreed with a slight grin. When asked if he was part of the group of people Clark had mentioned in the dedication in his book, he replied, 'Of course not, I'm Lois'. The poor photographer had been so stunned he hadn't known what to say. Clark had let the guy off the hook by saying Scott was a friend and that he expected the media to respect his privacy. Amazingly, none of the group had been given the mud treatment... yet.

Both seemed lost in thought, then Lois cleared her throat. "Would you like to come up for coffee?"

Clark lifted his head, his eyes searching hers for any uncertainty. All he saw was hope glistening in her wide, expectant eyes. He'd missed those eyes! "Ah... are you sure?"

She just looked at him, as if searching his for that same hesitation. Finally she smiled and moved toward the stairs. "I'm sure. Besides, some of us are not as super as others. My tush is starting to get numb." And she started the climb toward the door.

He could only shake his head in amusement. He'd definitely missed this woman! By the time she reached the landing, he was there to open the door for her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied and waited until she was inside before following. He stomped his feet briefly to rid his shoes of loose snow before heading toward the elevator. His heart was pounding against his chest at the mere thought of spending time alone with Lois. He'd been away from her for so long it almost seemed like the first time they'd met.

Although, he couldn't remember being this nervous. Hell, he'd kissed her on their second meeting ever!

The elevator opened, and ever the gentleman, Clark held up his hand for Lois to enter first. Once inside the close confines, the sound of her rapidly beating heart invaded his hearing. Apparently she was as nervous as he was.

"Going home for Christmas?" Lois asked, probably to break the deafening silence.

"Yeah. My parents are coming off the road until after the New Year." Martha and Jonathan had still been traveling.

"She tells me they're having the time of their lives."

"I know. I have to leave messages for her to call me. I can never get her."

"Same here," Lois told him as the doors opened to deposit them on her floor.

She stepped off and Clark had to force himself to look at her back. His hearing hadn't been the only thing affected in the small space. Her shampoo, her shower gel, the soft scent that was uniquely Lois had rushed around him with unforgiving force. Super willpower alone had been the only thing that kept him from ravishing her on the spot.

"This is me." Her voice pulled him back to the present, and he realized they'd walked to the end of the hall.

501. Of course, he already knew which apartment was hers. She'd told him before she'd left his place that fateful weekend.

"Are you coming in?"

He realized he'd been just standing in the hall and she'd already gone inside. "Sorry," he said softly. Her apartment was small. They'd entered the living room. Off to the right was the kitchen. Beyond it he could see a doorway- one he could only assume was a hallway that led to the bedrooms. There were several photographs hanging on her walls, so he ventured in to get a look. Lois had put her coat away in a closet and headed for the kitchen.

There were images of Lois and Lucy, a man he assumed was her father. There was also pictures of a woman that could only be Lois' mother. Lois looked a lot like her. He couldn't help but smile at the skinny, little dark haired girl she'd once been.

"I forgot those were up there."

He glanced over at her. "You were a cute kid," he couldn't help but say.

"I'm still a cute kid."

That made him chuckle softly. And he certainly couldn't deny it. "You've seen pictures of me when I was younger. It's only fair I see these."

"Is that how it works?"

"Yep," he answered as he continued to move around the room. Now that he was here he couldn't stop himself from learning even more about the woman he already felt he knew so well. She had a few houseplants, even if they did look a little worse for wear. Her television was an older model and there was a DVD player. She liked old soap operas and romantic comedies, he noted of her movie collection. One long sofa, with reclining ends was flanked by two beautiful tables. A matching coffee table was piled high with various art magazines. The wall to the left of the door was comprised of a long window that led out to a small balcony. In the left corner was another sitting area consisting of a rocker, a small table, and a lamp. She wasn't a smoker, but he already knew that. The dust that covered the tables was testament that she wasn't home much either.

He stopped his perusal at the large display case against the wall separating the living area from the kitchen. The case held several art awards. And...

"You won a gold medal!" he said in surprise looking up at her. She hadn't told him that.

"Swimming," she replied with a shrug, then turned toward the kitchen.

Why hadn't she shared this with him? She'd shared so much. Curiosity made him follow her until he was standing across the counter from her. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

For a moment she didn't answer as she prepared their coffee. When she pushed his across, she finally looked up at him. "My mother taught me to swim when I was three. She loved swimming. By the time I was six, I felt the same way. I'd been competing for two years when Mom died. But she'd always tell me, 'Lo, one of these days you're gonna win us a gold medal'. I didn't swim for a year after she died. Then I found some old papers. Mom had won a spot on the Olympic team. I found out from Daddy that her father wouldn't let her go. So..." She shrugged again and lifted her mug to her lips.

"You went for her," Clark finished her sentence, new awe of this woman washing over him. She answered with a sad smile. As he followed her to sit at the table, he realized that her mom was the one thing she hadn't talked about during their weekend together. Other than telling him she'd died, Lois hadn't said anything else about her. They sat in silence for a moment before Clark said, "Guess I know not to challenge you to a swim race."

After a beat, Lois started to laugh. "Somehow I don't think you'd have a tough time winning."

"Maybe not," he agreed with a soft laugh of his own. He took a sip of his coffee, but couldn't help sneaking a glance at Lois. His nerves had calmed a bit since they'd entered her apartment, but now that he didn't have anything to concentrate on, he wasn't sure what to say.

"I read your book," she offered without looking over at him.

What did she think about it? He wanted to know, but his lips wouldn't cooperate to ask her.

"Is that how you feel?"

Boy, she didn't beat around the bush! "Yes," he whispered, his eyes cast downward. Why was he finding it so difficult to look at her? Hadn't that been the reason for coming here? His uncontrollable urge to see her?

"Why, Clark?"

That made him lift his eyes to hers. "Why do I feel that way?"

"Why did you walk away?" Her voice was flat, unemotional, raw.

"You know why."

"No. I don't. I know you think your life is too complicated, that it's too much to force onto me. And I know you didn't give me a choice. Shouldn't I have decided if it was too much? Clark, I knew who you were when I flew to Kansas with you. I knew who you were when I asked you to go away with me."

"And both times we had to sneak around like we were doing something wrong. Do you know how I felt doing that?"

"Did I ask you to do it?"

He clamped his mouth closed and looked back down at his coffee.

"We could have had dinner in the middle of LNN for all I care."

"Then we'd never be here," he said softly.

"How do you know? You're so sure I'll cave under the pressure, you never gave me a chance. I've been hounded relentlessly and we aren't even seeing one another." She paused. "And I'm here," she said just as softly as he had.

Slowly he lifted his head to look at her. Weeks of pain and longing caused his eyes to well with tears.

"You could have come," she whispered, her own eyes welling up.

"I was so stupid," he proclaimed.

"Lunkheaded?"

He chuckled softly and wiped his eyes. "Very lunkheaded," he agreed after he'd composed himself a bit. "So," he began as he looked back down at his coffee. "Want to... have dinner tomorrow night in the middle of LNN?" He slowly lifted his eyes back to hers as he spoke.

Lois smiled. "I'll call Nunk."

That caused him to grin widely. Nunk was a relentless reporter who had grown fond of hounding Lois. "And you can bet he'd be there." They both laughed for a moment before he pushed up straighter in his chair so that he could lean over on the table. "You really want to do this?"

He watched as she pushed her hand across the table to cover his. "I really want *you*."

The only thing he could do was stare into her dark eyes. She meant what she said. "I've missed you," he admitted, the only thing he could say. And it was so true. He'd missed this woman so much he'd been physically ill.

"And I've missed you," she replied as she squeezed his hand.

Clark slowly turned his palm up so that he could hold her as well. "It'll be a media event."

"It'll be a relief."

That caused him to furrow his brows in confusion. Of all the things he'd thought about their relationship becoming public, relief wasn't one of them.

"I can finally breathe again," she told him in answer to his silent question.

She was right. He'd been able to breathe again the moment he'd laid eyes on her tonight. "I'm sorry," he offered, the only thing he knew to say.

"Yeah, well, you can make it up to me." She gave him a sly smile and waggled her brows.

Clark laughed again. God, how he'd missed this woman. He glanced down at their joined hands again. If they were really going to do this, then they were going to do it right. "So, Ms. Lane, would you like to fly or should I pick you up in a car?"

"Didn't I tell you? I only date men who fly." She leaned her chin over on her free hand and grinned at him.

He grinned back. This was going to be the start of the best adventure of his life, he decided. And this woman was going to be high maintenance. "Seven too early?"

"Not early enough," she answered.

Definitely not early enough. Could they go tonight? A glance at the clock told him it was much too late to go out. And much too late for him to be keeping her up. He hated to leave her, but he needed to. He needed to give her time and space to think about what she'd agreed to. He needed her to think about it and have time to change her mind. There was a big difference in telling someone you love them on a recorded message and putting yourself out there for the world to see. Once that reality set in...

The thought of her changing her mind was too painful for him to consider. Yet, it was a very real possibility and he had to know.

"As much as I hate to say goodnight..." he began without releasing her hand.

"Yeah," she agreed. They sat there for another moment or two before she pulled on his hand. "Come on. I'll walk you to the door."

Relief flooded through him. He couldn't have made the first move to leave if he'd wanted to, no matter what he needed to do. She continued to hold his hand until they reached the door.

"Don't be late," she told him.

"Not a chance," he assured her. And while he had the nerve, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He was about to reach for the door with his free hand when it opened. In stepped Lucy.

She stopped, staring at the couple with wide eyes for a moment before realization set in. "Oh..." she croaked, her eyes flashing from Lois to Clark, then to their joined hands. "Oh," she repeated. This time her voice cracked with emotion.

"Hi, Sis," Lois said. "Clark..."

"You came," she breathed through her tears as she looked up at him.

He gave her a soft smile. "Yeah," he told her as he looked over at Lois.

"Oh..." This time it was a happy exclamation. She reached out to squeeze Lois tight, then looked up Clark. "I've learned my lesson. No more pictures or videos or..."

"It's okay, Lucy," Clark said. "I think we've all learned our lesson."

She shrieked again, obviously itching to hug Clark, too. He reached out with his free hand to indicate it was okay and she almost launched herself at him. He laughed as he hugged her back.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. Then she released him, gave Lois a knowing smile, and ran from the room.

"Sorry. She's a little high strung," Lois apologized.

"She's great," he replied, then eased into the open doorway. He reached out to cup Lois' cheek, allowing his emotions to seep from him. When she nodded, he slowly released her hand and backed up into the hallway. He just stood there staring at her, trying to convince his feet to move. Finally, he offered her a smile, then turned and started down the hall. Behind him he heard the soft click of the door and the excited squeals of the two women inside. He couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. With a new spring in his step, he headed toward Clinton Street.

****

Lucy had been peeping around the kitchen wall and when Lois closed the door she stepped into the living room. When Lois turned, they exchanged a look, then burst into excited squeals. They jumped up and down hugging one another, tears rolling down their cheeks. Lucy knew what Clark being there meant to Lois and couldn't be happier for her big sister.

"So?" Lucy wanted to know as she eased back from their embrace.

"So... we're going out tomorrow night," Lois offered as she wiped her face.

"Out? In the open?"

"In the open."

"No more secrets?" Lucy asked with a hopeful expression. "Are you ready for that?"

"Lucy, I might never get used to being in the spotlight, but I can live with *that* better than I can live without *him*."

Lucy smiled through her tears. "I'm so happy for you, Lo."

"And I miss him already," Lois said as they started toward the hall.

"Rocky road and a good tear jerker?"

"I'll get the spoons."

The pair settled in Lois' bed to watch their movie, but ended up talking long into the night. Lucy promised again to keep Lois' privacy and Lois told her little sister a few of the reasons she was crazy about Clark Kent. When she finally closed her eyes that night, she slept soundly for the first time in months.