Beat (Part 2)

Title: Beat (Part 2)
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chlark, Chlois
Spoilers/Timeline: Post-Series
Disclaimer: I own very little, certainly not these characters. Please don’t sue!
Author’s Notes: So I’m hoping Clark grows a brain at some point. Maybe a little good, old-fashioned Kryptonian education can help. This one’s pretty fluffy for me. I posted it as a WIP at K-Site, and didn’t want to add it here until it was complete.

---

He’s perfected his bumbling reporter routine through years of practice at the Times, but running into Jimmy might just be the funniest reaction he’s ever gotten to it.

Nervous as hell, he wanders into the main lobby that just draws the eye up, up, and away. He is aware of the location, status, and intent of every one of the building’s occupants, but he allows himself to bump into three people within his first five steps.

He runs headlong into Jimmy, scattering proofs and copies of his resume everywhere.

“Jeeze. What are you, a brick wall?” Jimmy rubs his shoulder and winces.

Okay, so maybe Clark didn’t give as much as he normally would have. On some level, he’s admitted the sinking suspicion that Jimmy might have stolen his life six years ago, and he’s only catching on now.

Jimmy meets his nervous gaze, and surprise washes over his features. “C…K?” He says, like he just saw a ghost.

Pushing his loose frames up on his nose. “Yeah…uh…Hey Jimmy. L-long time no see.”

Now Jimmy looks at him incredulously. You would think he just sprouted eyestalks. “Sure. Long time. Where the heck have you been, CK?”

“Oh, here and there.”

“Are you here to see…”

“Perry White. “ Clark interrupts. He’s still not ready to go there. He begins gathering his papers and nods toward them. “I actually have an interview in a few minutes.”

A mix of emotions pass over Jimmy’s face, but all Clark cares about is the blessed lack of a band on his left hand. He wants to hug the kid. Looks like they were both left in the dust. Instead, he checks his watch.

“Well I…”

“Yeah, good luck, CK. Come see me on the 12th floor as soon as you’re done. We gotta catch up.” He leans in, meeting Clarks gaze with a strength and urgency he didn’t consider Jimmy capable of in his former life. “It’s important.”

He’s still pondering that request when he wanders into the bullpen.

“Great Caesar’s ghost! Look what the cat dragged in!” Perry launches himself across the room when he sees Clark. He moves at a speed that leaves little doubt who the heart of this bustling office is, and shakes Clark’s hand vigorously.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Kent. What happened to your eyes?”

“Uh…what?”

“Eyes, Kent. We all have them. Yours used to work just fine, though with less blinking. What happened?”

“Oh, that. I guess I always had astigmatism, it just didn’t bother me enough to get checked out till college…”

Perry squints at him. “Never mind that, let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we?” He leads Clark into his office, motions for him to sit, and the only thing more surprising than the amazing view is the utter lack of rhyme or reason to the furniture and décor.

A photo of Elvis hangs in the midst of various ground-breaking Planet headlines. An outdated typewriter sits next to coffee-stained proofs, atop a sleek art-deco desk that looks like it came with the office.

Perry White, whose hair seems to have taken his last name far too seriously, settles into a green monstrosity of a leather chair. He motions at the plastic chair opposite. Clark isn’t sure it will support his large frame, but he sits anyway.

This is it. This is his chance to return to the city that’s been his since…since he learned to love truth and justice from a chipper young editor.

He is absolutely terrified.

Perry is going over his portfolio and asking random questions about how he approached his interviews with certain victims, where he gleaned a contact in the Secret Service, how he snuck into the coroner’s office to get an official report indicating the former Whitehouse Chief of Staff’s involvement in a prostitute’s drug overdose.

Clark prays to Rao that the veteran interviewer buys his claim that a good reporter never reveals a confidential source.

“Well, I suppose as your editor, I won’t want to know.” He drops the portfolio. “I pay my debts, Kent. You’re getting in. What I need to know is are you ready for the big league, or do I put you back on the city beat?”

“I-I’m not here for the spotlight, Mr. White, sir.” Clark pushes the glasses up his nose, subtly trying to make the point that he’s not star-reporter material. “I just want a chance to prove myself.”

Perry grins like he finally sees something he recognizes. “I hoped you might say that.” He stands and shakes Clark’s hand vigorously. “And I’m about to give you the chance to prove something for both of us. Hell of a handshake, by the way.”

Uh-oh. The gleam in the older man’s eye makes Clark wonder just what he’s stepping into. He can tell from the cadence of his heart that he’s excited about something.

White steps back and booms, “LANE!”

Lois?

Clark can hear twenty heartbeats accelerate, but no one seems to be approaching. He nearly goes through the roof when someone huffs not three feet away. He’s still turning when he hears the one voice he hoped to avoid.

“What is it Per…ry?” She finishes lamely and gapes a bit. He’s pretty sure he has her beat on the shock level.

She looks so…different? Beautiful? Pissed?

Definitely pissed.

Deep brown hair curls gracefully around a face with more angles than he remembers, but the span of years did nothing to dim his memory of the curious girl who uncovered his secret so long ago. He stares into familiar green eyes.

The suit is the same, but the cockiness is new. The shock fades almost immediately to make room for anger. She’s nearly shaking with it.

“Lois, this is Clark-“

“Kent.” She breathes, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. “I read his work at The Washington Times.”

A little something swells in Clark’s chest. It’s quickly crushed beneath her heel.

“It was crap.”

“Well that’s more than your everyday brand of acerbic wit. Glad to see you saving the good stuff for your new partner.”

Barely concealed anger shifts like mercury to murderous rage. “My what?”

They both whip their heads in White’s direction.

“Welcome to The Planet, Kent. I’m partnering you with my top reporter to prove my theory that even a shooting star needs balance.”

She sputters for a moment before regaining her voice. “I cannot believe this, Chief! Is this because of the STAR Labs fiasco? I keep telling you, it isn’t breaking and entering when the security guard leaves his station!”

“It’s more than that and you know it, Lane.”

“I work alone!”

“You work however I say you work, damned it! Now get Kent a desk and bring him with you to the press conference.”

“But…”

“Less arguing, more walking, Lane. Unlike the rest of the bozos around here, you don’t scare me.”

After a tense moment where he wonders whether she’ll actually back down, she spins on her heel and stomps out of the office.

He looks helplessly at White, who just nods for him to follow. “Good luck, kid.”

Stumbling after the woman who has played a starring role in his dreams for the better part of a decade, the bumbling reporter act becomes less of an act than he’d like.

“Excuse me, Miss…uh…Lane?”

She charges through the bullpen, and he doesn’t miss the wide berth her fellow reporters grant her.

“Miss Lane!” Still no response.

“Chloe!” He half yells, half whispers.

That gets her attention. She rounds on him with a fury that made her look tame in Perry’s office and he can’t help but shrink back a bit, which, yeah, is a little bit ridiculous.

“Don’t you ever say that name again! Regardless of what we never meant to each other, you can grant me the common courtesy of respecting my name, especially when it’s the only thing keeping me alive right now.” She hisses the last part through clenched teeth.

He has a sudden sympathy for the reporters who skittered out of her way as she stomped by. He’d love to crawl in a hole somewhere and stay there for a while.

She stands with a frustrated huff, and seems to collect herself before crossing to a cluttered desk next to the window and undocking a smart phone. She glances at it before holstering it at her hip and looking up expectantly.

He’s still in shock, so he barely manages to raise his eyebrows helplessly and adjust his glasses in response.

“What are you waiting for, Kent, a written invitation?” She looks at him like he’s two and motions toward the desk facing hers.

“I…u..uh.” He sighs, tries to take a calming breath and starts over. “It’s good to see you again, L…Lois.”

“I’m sure.” She eyes him thoughtfully, and turns to undock her laptop. “Glad to know you can be taught. Get your stuff, we’re late.”

He has nothing to get that he didn’t have with him, so he just stares as she slips her computer in the bag and it’s only then that he notices the diamond on her left hand. In that moment, Clark decides that suspecting something for two years and actually seeing it sparkle in the morning light are two totally different animals.

He’s got superhuman strength, but he suddenly feels beaten as never before. He can’t breathe, he’s dizzy, so he just kind of…plops down into the chair nearest him.

Ready to go, she looks up at him. He sees the first hint of the girl he once knew hidden in the concern her eyes carry. “Clark, what’s wrong?”

“He…I…I’m fine. Sorry, this is just all a bit sudden.”

She stands, and he can pinpoint the moment her walls go back up. “Suck it up, Kent. A good reporter is ready for anything, at any time. Didn’t the city beat teach you anything?”

She doesn’t wait for a reply.

---

He follows her downstairs to the parking garage and almost laughs to find that her taste in vehicles has changed very little. Tiny and foreign do not make a comfortable ride for his 6’4” frame.

She barely acknowledges him until he’s squeezing into the passenger seat, which is a tight fit even if it was already pushed back as far as it goes. A chuckle escapes her as he tries to huddle while carefully closing the door.

“Richard makes the same face whenever he rides with me. He hates my taste in cars.”

Ah, now Clark has a name to go with the hatred. He tries to play it cool, but can’t help a glance at her ring. “Richard?”

She catches the gesture, of course, and glances down herself. She blushes and ducks her head. “Yeah, he’s the editor of the business review. It’s not managed by Perry, which is the only reason HR let the nepotism slide.”

“Richard…White?”

“The one and only.” Like Clark should know his name.

“Congratulations.” He tries for cheerful.

She’s laughing again and it’s so close to his Chloe that he wants to cry for a second. “Careful there. You might melt those stylish glasses of yours.”

Oops. He blinks away the heat.

“Sorry about that, it’s just a bit of a…surprise.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just act surprised that someone wants to marry me.” She deadpans.

“But I…That’s not…ugh. I give up.”

“Smart move, genius. No one messes with Lois Lane.” She puts the car in gear and pulls out of the parking space.

“Speaking of that, what happened to Lois?”

She freezes at that. “Chloe Sullivan died saving Lois Lane.” Her gaze drifts down guiltily. “Trying to, anyway, only it turns out there are limits to otherworldly gifts. Later, Lois Lane had to be resurrected for Chloe Sullivan to live.”

It doesn’t explain everything, but he gets the idea. “I’m so sorry. How long?”

“Four years at Christmas.”

A horn blares behind them. She swallows whatever else she had to say and they’re off a little faster than necessary.

He takes the hint that they’ve exceeded comfort level.

She’s all business when she speaks again. “So, your turn, Kent. You cleared out pretty quick. Did you have fun finding yourself?”

“It was training. It wasn’t exactly backpacking through Europe.”

“Whatever. That’s the story you told Lois, who by the way, you actually said goodbye to…twice. I didn’t find out the truth till I talked to Lana.”

He winces at that, lifts his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He has no excuse, so he says nothing.

She eyes him again and he wonders if this isn’t the cause of the distain he saw upstairs. “So, you disappear to the snowy North for four years, and crop back up in D.C. a little over two years ago. Care to share why it took an act of the journalistic gods to get you in touch with your former B-F-F?”

“I…I just wasn’t ready, I guess.”

“For two years?” She’s not even trying to hide her incredulity.

“How did you know I was back?”

“I kept my eyes open, waiting for you to get back, for four freaking years, Clark. Your mom had the decency to call me before one of my searches came up with your name in a byline.”

He honestly tries to get a handle on the annoyance that bubbles up at her assertion that she waited, but the “Yeah, right,” is out before he knows it.

She slams on the brakes. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean, Chlo.”

“It’s Lois, thankyouverymuch. Miss Lane, if you prefer, and I want to know what the hell you think it means, asshole.”

“I’m sure Richard was a big comfort to you.”

She throws the car back in gear, squeals back into traffic and it’s a wonder flames don’t shoot from her eyes. “You bet your ass he was, Clark. Richard was there. He bugged me for a date every week for almost three years before I finally caved on my workplace relationships rule, and I turned down his proposal six freakin’ times before I agreed to wear his ring. He is by far the most patient man I have ever met and he cares about me in ways I had given up hope were possible.”

She’s fired up and on a roll. “And do you want to know what the biggest comfort Richard offered was? He saw me.

"Me. Not the perfect girl-next-door or my cousin’s rack or every other girl on the planet. He could have had anyone he wanted, but he wanted me, with all my idiosyncrasies and imperfections. So fuck you, Clark Kent, and the Kryptonian ship you rode in on. You don’t get to say one word against my fiancée when you couldn’t even act like a decent friend to me six years ago, much less now.”

She’s flushed and breathing hard, but she’s obviously done, because she blasts the stereo all the way to LexCorp.

Finacee… In that moment, he knows she’s right – he’s a fool.

---

The press conference is little more than a retooled version of the press release. Questions of substance are glossed over or ignored completely, but Clark is still struck by her silence. They are midway back, to the left of the stage, and he’s pretty sure she specifically maneuvered them to this spot.

When the reporter in front of them asks their question, she ducks down and makes like she’s adjusting her shoe. The avoidance is definitely not what he expected of The Daily Planet’s “star reporter”.

It’s over in less than twenty minutes, and she tugs him out the door with the first set of video crews leaving. It seems she didn’t want to call attention to herself as the first to slip out, but she wasn’t too keen on staying.

He desperately wants to learn more about why LexCorp is recovering so well while their former CEO rots behind bars for crimes against humanity, but he figures research can wait. Regardless of how much it hurts to know she’s in love with someone else, he’s felt more at home during the last hour than he has for the better part of a decade.

Avoidance was a miserable mistake. He’ll take her any way he can have her.

He just can’t handle her hating him.

They’re settling back into her car when he finally breaks the stony silence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She has her hands on the wheel, keys ready, but she just lowers her head. “I know. Me too. I guess I didn’t know how much I’d held onto.” She still isn’t looking at him when she starts up the car.

They drive back in silence, but at least the air doesn’t thrum with anger. A kind of sadness hangs between them, though. Clark tries to count his blessings.

In the elevator, she fingers a disk he hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s that?”

“This? Oh, it’s the real scoop on LexCorp’s new research.” A mischievous grin slides across her face. “Inside source. You didn’t think I picked that seat for the view, did you?”

He can’t help the answering smile. “I should have known better. You never were one for low-profile.”

“I’ve learned a thing or two over the years. Investigative reporting is far easier when you’re invisible. As soon as I decrypt this, the real work begins.”

“Will it take long?”

“No more than 20 minutes. Why? You have something better to do?”

Clark notices they just passed the 10th floor and hits the 12. “Nope. Just need to check in with an old friend.”

She nods as he steps out. “Tell Jimmy I said hi.”

He stares dumbly as the doors close.

---

Jimmy is in the midst of a heated discussion with a young brunette when Clark finds him. He immediately tells her to go with the caption he wrote and ushers Clark into his cubicle.

“So, how’d it go, CK?”

“Better than I expected. I still haven’t seen any paperwork, but I’ve already been assigned a partner.”

Jimmy shakes his head and chuckles. “God, Perry can be evil. He put you with her, didn’t he?”

“Um…” Clark’s voice drops a register. “You mean Chl…uh…Lois.”

“Yeah, and you’d better not screw up the name. She’s been known to take a man’s head off for less.”

“I got that impression. What the heck happened to her?”

“What didn’t happen might be a better question. Between her cousin, Luthor, her mother and father, that mix-up at the morgue, and White Junior chasing her skirt till he finally wore her down, it’s no wonder she’s not eager to settle on a wedding date.”

“Whoa. I only caught half that. What happened between her and Lex?”

“Before or after Lionel?”

“Um, either?”

“Lex was on the hunt for a bride number four and Chloe, as usual, was after the big story. For the longest, I thought she was going to start something up with Oliver Queen. They were always together in public. Then she shocked the world and started dating Lex.”

“She…what?”

“I feel ya, CK. That was pretty much everyone’s reaction. Turns out she was just trying to get close enough to expose him, but she put on a very convincing show. She had him so snowed that he got sloppy when he killed his father.

“When she exposed him, he didn’t take it so well. He wasn’t content to take her out; he wanted to eradicate her entire family.

“Bombs struck simultaneously at her apartment, her father’s house in Gotham, and her mother’s hospital. Thirty-three people died that night, and a body was found in her apartment and identified as her. Everyone here was really torn up until she showed up six hours later wearing nothing but a coat and covered in soot.

“Turns out there was a mix-up, and her cleaning lady had been in the apartment, instead of her. Still odd that the coroner’s office claims they had a dental match. Not to mention the disappearing body.

“It was Perry’s idea to let her stay dead. We knew Lex had an in with the FBI, so we partnered with Queen Industries to legally change her name and keep her hidden. The power of the press isn’t limited to news ink, you know.

“Anyway, she took on her old pen name, Lois Lane, and I’m sure you followed the rest of the story well enough to know how it ended. “

Clark is so overwhelmed he doesn’t even try to hide his confusion.

“Where the Hell were you, CK, Siberia?” Jimmy looks incredulous. “It took a year and an Attorney General who grew some balls, but she testified under the condition of anonymity. It was Lois Lane’s first big story – she won the Pulitzer.”

Jimmy looks at Clark expectantly. “She did it, Clark.” The note of reverence in his voice is unmistakable. “She took down the greatest criminal of all time and lived to tell the tale. Well, sort of. Technically, she died, but she’s the biggest legend around here.”

And that’s the crux of it. While he was busy learning how to be a hero, Chloe was back here doing it. He has absolutely no business breathing the same air as this woman.

He leans back against the desk. He could leave right now. He hasn’t even given notice at The Times, and if the last two years are any indication, he is as needed there as he is in Metropolis.

No. She may be a hero in her own right, but now that he knows what a fool his fears made him, he can’t leave her. Even if she never sees him the way he sees her. Even if he has to watch her happy with someone else forever, he is as close to whole as he’s been in a long time.

He’ll make this work, damned it.

---

Not surprisingly, the first test of his commitment comes little more than five minutes later.

He steps into the occupied elevator on its way up, barely registering the look of recognition on the other man’s face.

“Excuse me. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Probably not. This is my first day.” Clark doesn’t look up. He just registers a 30-something male, in good health. Heartbeat’s a little elevated, but not so much as to concern him.

“Richard White.” The man extends his hand, and Clark’s eyes snap up, suddenly taking more careful stock. White is about the same height and build, with lighter brown hair, a wide smile and friendly blue eyes.

This is the man who has stolen his happiness. The man he forfeited his life to out of fear.

Clark finally registers the outstretched hand and shakes it. “Clark Kent.”

“The infamous Clark Kent! I thought I recognized you from Lois’s scrapbooks!”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So you’re joining The Planet team?” He ushers Clark off the elevator first and, much to his annoyance, they begin making their way to Lois’ desk.

“Looks like it. Perry just hired me.”

“He putting you on the city beat?”

“Features, actually. He seems to think I can help balance Lois out.” Yeah, it’s a low-blow. But Clark can’t resist rubbing in his new status.

It gets a reaction that’s even better than he could have expected. White’s heart rate jumps through the roof and the subtle increase in his pupil size, respiration and perspiration are unmistakable. He’s beyond angry.

Whatever he may feel, he flashes a tight smile and puts his arm around Lois as he reaches her desk. “Lois does have a tendency to find the most dangerous stories out there. Maybe you can help her find something a bit more…” His eyes roam over Clark’s carefully nerdish appearance. “…tame.”

Lois looks back and forth between the two of them with a disbelieving grin.

“I see you’ve met my new partner, babe.” She can’t hold back a chuckle.

“Yes ma’am.” The grin is less forced at her endearment. Clark’s isn’t.

“Well, buckle down, Kent, because we have work to do.” Her hands fly over the keyboard and he is struck by the image of her younger self, chasing down a lead so he could take them down.

He reminds himself that he chose this. He chose to let his fear keep them apart. He could have fought for her, rather than spending the last two years hurting her with his distance. Who is he to take away her hard-won happiness?

He sits and boots up the computer at his new desk. First order of business, e-mail his resignation and let his mom know where he is. Second, assist the best civilian decryption expert this side of the Atlantic in taking down the evil mega-corporation.

Things are definitely looking up.

---

Continued here...