"Do you want to turn off the light?" Lois asked.
"It can stay on. I don't mind."
"No, turn it off."
"Will you be all right?"
She smiled. It was soft and hesitant, but it filled Clark with hope. "I'll be fine," she said. "If you stay with me."
So will I, Clark thought as he rose from the bed to turn off the light. I'll be fine if you stay with me. When he slipped back into the bed, Lois's eyes were closed.
"Goodnight, Clark," she said.
"Goodnight, Lois," Clark replied. I love you.
Part 20
~~ Friday ~~
As Clark opened his eyes the next morning, he was struck by an invigorating sense of anticipation. A sense so real that it reminded him of the first moments of wakefulness on Christmas morning when the day stretched ahead with wonderful promise.
Lois was facing away from him, and the top of her shoulder was visible above the sheet. He wanted to touch her - just to place a hand on the material of her pyjamas. Feel her warmth. Connect with her.
He didn't. He didn't want to startle her.
Last night, he'd fallen asleep with their conversation still echoing through his mind. She'd said that she feared she had broken the trust between them. What really scared Clark was that he would inadvertently do something that would crush the fragile trust she was showing him.
After everything she had endured, she must be within a careless touch or an indiscreet comment of shrinking back into her cocoon of solitude.
Last night had felt like real progress.
She trusted him. Trusted him enough to want him to share her bed. Trusted him enough to share her feelings. Trusted him enough to be honest. Trusted him enough to give him another day.
Why did she trust him? Why did she feel safe sleeping next to him?
Was it because she trusted him not to abnegate his principles? Or because she had sensed his trepidation?
Was it because she saw him as an honourable man? Or because she saw him as less than a man?
Clark pushed back the covers and sprang from the bed in a lithe movement. He would not think about Moyne. He would not permit Moyne a foothold in his thoughts. Moyne was there - always - like a tenebrous cloud, but Clark was not going to give him ground easily.
Not when the day ahead promised hours shared with Lois.
He went into the bathroom to shower and shave. Once dressed, he peeked in again at Lois, who was still asleep, and then went downstairs. He set some coffee to brew, wanting her to awaken to its aroma even though she'd once told him that she preferred tea if she'd slept well.
Her breathing and heart rate were still steady, and he'd heard no movement from above, so Clark left the house and went outside, inhaling the fresh vibrancy of the early morning. It felt so familiar - so right - to be walking from the house to the barn as the sun began its daily climb into the brightening blue sky.
He did the chores and collected the eggs, taking them back to the kitchen for breakfast.
Lois was awake now - he could hear the shower.
Clark smiled to himself as he took out the pan to fry the eggs. Today was going to be a good day.
||_||
Lois walked from the bedroom, and halfway down the stairs, she was welcomed by the smell of coffee and frying eggs. The aromas teased her appetite, birthing the awareness that she was hungry.
When she entered the kitchen, Clark was there, already smiling. "Good morning," he said brightly.
"Good morning," she replied.
"Sit down," he said, pulling out a chair for her. "Your breakfast is ready."
Lois sat down, and as Clark put a plate and cup in front of her, she couldn't help but picture this as her life. Waking up to the quiet serenity of the farmhouse, having her breakfast served by a loving farmer.
It was a long way from the constant action, lurking danger, and intriguing subterfuge of the life of an agent. Did she want this? For most of her life, her answer would have resounded in the negative. Too quiet. Too dull. Too unchanging. Too unchallenging.
But now ... now the peace and tranquillity called to her. "Thanks," she said, with a little smile to Clark.
He sat next to her, and they began to eat. "Do you still want to go to the beach today?" he asked.
His tone was casual, and he hadn't stopped eating to await her reply, but Lois could feel the tension inherent in his question. He really wanted to do it. "Yes," she said. "I'm looking forward to it."
That was putting it a little more positively than was strictly the case, but Clark's wide grin rewarded her slight exaggeration. "I know the perfect beach," he said. "I used to go there a lot."
"I didn't realise there were many beaches in Kansas." Lois didn't season her comment with a smile, but Clark did.
"This one is in California," he said. "It's not one of the main beaches - other people go there, but it's never crowded."
Lois was ridiculously relieved that there wouldn't be many people. She didn't feel capable of dealing with crowds. "Sounds great," she said.
Clark glanced at his watch. "It's still dark in California," he said. "So we have plenty of time before we need to leave."
"What are you going to do?"
"I thought I'd go into Smallville."
The muscles of her stomach constricted. She was sure that - in the manner of small towns - something of her encounter with Moyne had reached the ears of the local people. She didn't want to be pointed at; she didn't want to answer questions. She didn't even want to be there while they crowded around Clark. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.
"I didn't think you'd want to," he said, his tone carefully neutral. He picked up his coffee and nonchalantly drank from it.
Lois was grateful for his understanding. "Will you be all right going by yourself?" she asked.
He looked at her then, over the top of his coffee. "I'll be fine," he said. "I don't intend to stay for long. I'll go and pay what I owe Dave and buy some more food. I might visit the bank and maybe do a couple of other things, but I don't intend to be there any longer than is necessary."
Lois nodded, and Cark quickly looked away, taking a swig of his coffee. He was hiding something. Nothing major, probably -
Then Lois realised. He was probably planning to buy something nice to take to the beach. Perhaps some Smallville speciality that he had particularly missed. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" she asked. "People might have a lot of questions. Even more now - since the incident with Moyne."
"I'll be fine," Clark said. He tweaked his glasses in a semi-nervous motion that told Lois he wasn't entirely sure he would be fine.
"I can come if you want me to," she offered.
"No," he said - just a fraction too quickly. He was definitely planning something. "Will you be OK being alone?"
She nodded.
"You know you only have to say my name. I'll hear you - even from Smallville."
"I know," she said. "Thanks."
"Do you mind if I drive the Buick?"
"No. Of course not."
"I changed the licence plate back," he said with a small smile.
"Thanks."
"I'll ... uhm ... just go upstairs quickly and then leave. Bye." There was a blur as Clark cleared away their breakfast, leaving only Lois's almost-finished cup of coffee.
"Bye," she said, wondering if his haste was due to his desire to evade her questions.
After he'd gone, Lois poured herself another cup of coffee and walked up the stairs. She went into the front bedroom and stood at the window. From there, she watched Clark walk towards the Buick and slip into the driver's seat.
He looked great. He was wearing the trousers he had worn during their 'date' in the cell and a white cotton shirt. There was nothing in his appearance to suggest he was anything other than a handsome young farmer, heading into town for supplies.
She could still feel his slight apprehension, though, and her admiration for him surged. Facing Smallville - its people, its questions, its scrutiny - was going to be a huge test.
He had progressed far enough that he was willing to do it alone.
Lois watched the Buick until it was out of sight.
Then she went to her bag and took out her phone - she had a call to make.
||_||
Clark drove along the road towards Smallville. It was a route so familiar that he could have accurately described every detail - every turn, every slight dip in the road, every tree.
For seven years, he had thought he would never drive this road again. Never see it again. He rolled down the window and pulled the air deep into his lungs.
Yup - it still smelled the same.
About a mile from Smallville, he slowed the Buick. The closer he got to the town, the more changes he noticed. There was a new house here ... a new fence there ... and a row of trees that had grown from stringy saplings to bushy maturity. But the small changes in detail couldn't disperse the feeling of familiarity.
The town hadn't changed much. He passed the cafe and used some extra vision to look inside. Maisie was there, clearing a table. There were people on the streets - a few faces he knew, older, but still fundamentally the same.
Clark pulled into a parking space between the bank and Dave's store and hesitated long enough to try to brace himself with a steadying breath. This was his home. This was his community. People who had known his parents. People who had known him since babyhood.
They were expecting Clark Kent - the person they had known for twenty-one years. Clark wasn't sure he could even be that person anymore, but to become whoever he was now, he was going to need these people.
He blew out another breath, opened the door of the Buick, and slid out. The sensation of being the focus of everyone's attention was strong, but somehow it didn't seem too intimidating. He shut the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, heading for Dave's store.
A man was walking the other way - someone who had been a few years ahead of Clark in school. They passed before Clark reached Dave's door. "Hi, Clark," he said. "Welcome home."
"Hi, Simon," Clark replied. His steps slowed as he waited to see if Simon wanted to talk, but the man simply smiled and continued walking.
That had been easier than Clark had feared.
He made it to Dave's store without having to interact more deeply than a few nods to people as they passed. He pushed open the door, and the oh-so-familiar bell tinkled above him.
Dave looked up from where he was stacking loaves of bread onto a shelf. His grin cracked open. "Clark!" he said. "It's great to see you again."
"Hi, Dave," Clark said. "Thanks for sending out the supplies with Donny."
"You're welcome," he said. He added another pair of loaves to the shelf. "Let me know if there's anything you can't find."
"Thanks."
Clark picked up a basket and began browsing the neatly arranged shelves. He tried to concentrate on what they would need, but he didn't manage to think of anything beyond the basics. He stopped at the fresh produce section and filled the basket with vegetables and fruit.
Dave met him at the counter. While he packed Clark's purchases into a box, he chatted about the weather and added a few snippets of town news.
"Don't forget the cost from the other day," Clark said as Dave finished.
"It adds up to seventy-one dollars and seventy-six cents," Dave said.
Clark opened his wallet and took out eighty dollars from the money he had earned making the trays.
As Dave handed over the change, he looked at Clark, and his grin faded. "We heard you had some trouble out at your place," he said. "Is your friend all right?"
"Yeah, some trouble," Clark said. "And my friend is doing OK."
"Nasty business," Dave said. "I'm so glad no one was hurt." He reached across and added a candy bar to Clark's box. "Take that home to her," he said. "Never known a woman who doesn't feel better with candy."
"Thanks," Clark said. "Thanks for everything."
"You're welcome," Dave said cheerily. "Have a great day."
Clark picked up the box. "Is there somewhere I could buy a computer?" he asked.
"Sure," Dave said. "Do you remember Marty Fowler? He has turned the front room of his house into a computer showroom. He sells all sorts of things - software, monitors, keyboards, cables, disks. He'll set you up."
"Thanks," Clark said. He opened the door and almost walked into Maisie.
"Clark!" she said as she reached up and hugged him despite the impediment of the box he was carrying. "It is so good to see you again. And would you believe I was only talking about you last week? How -"
"Maisie!" came Dave's sharp reminder.
Her attention swung from Clark to Dave. When she looked back to Clark, her smile had sobered, but the welcome was still there in her eyes. "It's good to have you back," she said, patting his arm.
"Thanks, Maisie."
She move aside, and Clark stepped into the sunshine.
He put the box in the Buick and headed for the bank.
||_||
Lois punched the numbers into her cell phone and waited with growing anticipation.
"Mike Lane," came his voice.
"Uncle Mike," she said. "It's me, Lois."
"Lois," he said with evident pleasure. "How are you? It's great to hear from you."
"I'm good," Lois said, realising it wasn't a complete lie. "How's Dad?"
"He's doing so well, Lois," Uncle Mike said excitedly. "Since you took him that tray and the jigsaw puzzles, he's been making great progress. They're teaching him a basic form of sign language that he can do with his good hand. I've been learning some, too, so I can understand him."
"Can he actually get across what he wants to say?" Lois asked, hardly daring to believe.
"It's still a bit limited," Mike admitted. "But he learns new words every day."
"That's great," Lois said, feeling the tears spring to her eyes. She missed her dad. She couldn't imagine how wonderful it would be to really communicate with him again.
Uncle Mike chuckled. "I hope you're calling to tell me that you're going to be here for lunch," he said.
"No," Lois said with real regret. "I can't, not today."
"OK, Lois love," he said. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Actually, there is," Lois said as she picked up a pen.
"Name it," he said.
"Remember you offered to teach me how to cook?"
"The offer is always open. When do we start?"
"I can't take lessons right now, but could I have your recipe for apple pie?"
"Sure," he said. "Do you have a pen?"
"Yup."
"OK," Uncle Mike said. "Start with the pastry. You need flour and ..."
Lois wrote down his instructions, questioning him on anything that wasn't clear.
"Make sure the oven's hot when you put it in," he finished. "Take it out when it's nicely browned on top. And serve it with ice cream."
"Thanks," she said.
"Let me know how it turns out."
"I will," she said.
"It was great hearing from you, Lois love," he said. "Anytime you need another recipe, you know who to call."
"Thanks, Uncle Mike," she said. "Bye."
Lois put down her cell and read the recipe she had written. Then she folded it and put it safely in her bag. She slipped down the stairs and out the back door ...
... to the laden apple trees she had noticed beyond the remnants of Martha Kent's vegetable garden.
||_||
An hour later, Lois had stashed a bucketful of apples in the back of the pantry, and Clark still wasn't home.
Lois didn't want to worry - not yet - but she could no longer ignore the tiny trickle of anxiety that dripped through the back of her brain. She stood at the bedroom window and waited for the first sight of him.
He would be all right. He was invulnerable, after all.
Actually, he wasn't. And she knew that better than anyone did. Sure, he was invulnerable physically when he was away from the horrible poison, but in other ways, he was so vulnerable.
And she had hurt him so much. In one sentence, one stupid decision, she had torn his heart from his chest and stomped all over it. But his strength - one of the first things she had noticed about him - had come to the fore again. She'd failed him - the one person he was supposed to be able to trust - and he had simply got on with doing what needed to be done. Helping her.
And he'd done it with such sincerity. Such earnestness. Such concern. It was as if he'd entered her numb and darkened world, taken her hand, and shown her the path out of her prison.
Last night, she had told Clark that he was the most amazing person she had ever met. And he was. He didn't need the flying or the physical strength to be incredible. He just was - because he was Clark.
His capacity to forgive was huge. It had to be - he'd overcome the pain of the poison to speak up to stop her from killing Moyne. At the time, his goodness had only seemed to accentuate her wickedness, but now she realised how much she needed that capacity to forgive.
He would forgive her.
He would trust her again.
Because he was Clark.
She heard a motor, and her head jolted up. The hood of the Buick rounded the trees, and Lois smiled.
She watched as the car stopped, and Clark slid from the driver's seat. He opened the back door and leant forward. Lois stared in appreciation.
Then, she could wait no longer. She exited the bedroom and almost skipped down the stairs - her legs, her body, her heart suddenly infused with energy.
Because Clark was home.
At the front door, she stalled. Clark needed consistency. He didn't need her to be morose one moment and a giddy schoolgirl the next.
She opened the door. Clark was approaching her, carrying a box. When he saw her, his smile came, full and hopeful. Lois gave him a restrained smile in return, and his smile escalated. "Hi," he said. "I'll just unpack this, and we can leave." He waited at the door for her to turn and walk in front of him to the kitchen.
"How did it go?" Lois asked as she crossed the living room.
Clark put the box on the kitchen table. Lois gave it no more than a passing glance. She was more interested in trying to read Clark's face. He seemed all right. Better than all right now that he had arrived home and found her at the door to greet him. "It was good," he said.
"Did they crowd around you? Ask a lot of questions?"
"No. Someone - probably Rachel - must have put the word out."
"Do they know about Moyne?"
He nodded. "Dave asked me if you were all right." Clark reached into the box and brought out a candy bar. "He sent this for you. He says candy always helps."
Lois took the bar and eyed Clark. "Dave? He doesn't even know me."
"He knows you're a friend of mine," Clark said as he began unpacking the box.
"Are you sure the candy wasn't your idea?"
"I'm sure," he said as he took a handful of items to the pantry. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I got the impression that you had some sort of plan for your time in Smallville. That you weren't really all that disappointed when I didn't want to go with you."
"I wouldn't push you into anything you didn't want to do," he said seriously.
"I know," she said. "But I thought there might be something else."
He took a moment to scrutinise her before returning to the unpacking. "Do you have everything you need for California?" he asked.
She did. But there was something she needed to do first. Something more important. "Clark?"
She saw his shoulders tense at her tone. His head lifted slowly. She looked into his face and saw him wide open and defenceless as he waited for her to speak.
Lois took the couple of steps needed to be within touching distance of him. "I can't promise you forever," she said. "But I don't want to leave you."
"Y..." He cleared his throat. "You don't *want* to leave?" he said. "Or you're not going to leave?"
"I'm not going to leave," Lois said. "Not today. Not tomorrow. Not anytime soon."
His wonderful smile appeared as his breath slowly released. "That's good," he said quietly. "That is so good."
Lois wasn't sure what reaction she had been expecting, but probably more than a smile and a few quiet words. Yet, somehow, it was fitting. They were back on the path of progress. Moyne's appearance had threatened them, but they were still together and still working through the issues that haunted them. Lois put her hand on the firm warmth of Clark's forearm and left it there for a second. Then, she broke away and reached into the box. Her hands landed on a bunch of spinach. "Where does this go?" she asked as she lifted it from the box.
"In the bottom of the fridge," Clark said absently. He took it from her and placed it on the table. He leant back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. "You were right," he said.
"Right about what?"
"I did have a reason I wanted to go into Smallville alone."
Lois searched his face for meaning. She couldn't determine if he were about to deliver bad news or a revelation. "Why?" she asked quietly.
"I wanted to buy something for you. I *did* buy something for you, but then as I drove home, I realised that it could look like I was trying to bribe you into staying, and I wasn't sure any longer." He cautiously met her eyes. "I haven't bought too many gifts for women."
Lois moved to him again - standing toe-to-toe, close enough that she could smell the freshness of sunshine that clung to his clothes. "It won't look like a bribe now," she said. "I've already said that I'm staying."
He nodded, but still didn't look sure.
"Clark, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it." She laid her fingers around his arm.
He looked down and stared at her hand. Lois started to lift it away, but his arms unfolded and his other hand landed on top of hers. "You've stopped touching me," he said. "Since the morning in the motel room when I insisted that I wanted to look for work."
"I wasn't sure if it was helping," Lois said.
"I don't know if it helps either," Clark said. "But I know that I love it every single time you do it."
Lois felt regret wash over her. "I'm sorry," she said. "I lost sight of some things these past two days."
Clark shook his head. "I was just trying to be honest. I wasn't saying you should touch me ... just that I like it."
Lois smiled and gently tightened her grip on his arm. "Would you like me to guess what you bought?"
He nodded. "I'll give you three guesses."
"Well, I'm guessing it isn't candy."
"No."
"Something else that is nice to eat? Something to take with us today?"
"No."
"Something girly? A ribbon to tie up my hair? Or a lace handkerchief?"
"No."
"Something practical? A new pair of shears so I can finish pruning the front garden?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"A computer."
Her hand slid down his arm to clasp his hand. "A computer?"
"I think you need to rest," Clark said. "For days. Maybe even weeks. But eventually, you are going to want something to do. I figured maybe you could think about writing that Great American Novel of yours."
"You bought a *computer*?"
"Yeah." His smile came, a little self-consciously. "I'm kind of hoping you will let me use it sometimes. Apparently, I can keep the farm accounts on there."
"Of course I will," she said, still stunned.
"And ..." Clark looked down to where their hands were joined. "And ... I'm going to need someone to help me catch up. My very limited knowledge of computers is probably obsolete by now."
"Of course I will help you."
"Thanks."
"Clark, that is an incredibly thoughtful gift," Lois said. "But ..."
"You're wondering how someone who's had one paying job in seven years can afford to buy a computer?"
"I know that you would never do anything wrong," she said.
"Wayne Irig worked the farm during the years I was away. When he came on Tuesday, he gave me the bank book he had kept for the profits."
"And you used it for a computer for me?" Lois said in awe.
Clark lifted his broad shoulders a little and looked away.
Lois touched her hand to his cheek. "Thank you," she said.
His eyes crashed into hers, and she saw his hope that he'd done the right thing.
She smiled to reassure him. "Did you bring it home?" she asked. "Or is it getting delivered?"
"It's in the car."
"Let's go and get it."
"OK." Clark straightened from where he'd hitched his butt on the counter, but Lois didn't move.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you."
"Let's go and get your computer," he said.
She still didn't release his hand. "There's something I need more than a computer," she said.
"What?"
"Hold me?"
Clark's arms spread wide, and Lois fell into the sanctuary of his broad chest. He enclosed her, and his big, gentle hand curled around her head. She heard the steady beat of his heart and felt his warmth.
And knew that everything was going to be all right.
