Beat (Part 5)

Title: Beat (Part 5)
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.

---

Three weeks later, and he hasn’t gotten any better at balancing things. He’s past the darkest day of the year, but he can’t help thinking his darkest day is just a few months off.

Christmas was a mess. Lois, only a week out of the hospital, demanded that he spend the holiday with her and Richard. He’d tried to claim that he just wanted a quiet holiday at home, but she wasn’t hearing any of it.

It was even more awkward than he imagined.

As if deferring to Richard’s territorial posturing wasn’t enough, he and Lois found themselves having to duck out to cover the bombing of a local department store. When he met Richard’s eye on the way out the door he was enormously grateful that humans didn’t possess heat vision.

Between Richard, Lois, The Planet, and his patrols, he’s more exhausted than he’s ever felt when he flops into the worn old couch.

Pizza. News. Patrol. Sleep.

Same as always.

He’s jolted awake by a hand on his shoulder and nearly hits the ceiling.

“Jeeze, Clark. Jumpy much?”

Of course it’s Lois. Who else would sneak up on the superpowered alien?

He lifts his glasses and rubs his eyes. “Actually, thanks for the wakeup call. I needed to get going.”

“Where?”

“Um…out.”

“Out, out?” At his nod, she shakes her head dismissively. “Clark, you look exhausted, and this place is a disaster. Do you even take any time for yourself anymore?”

He wants to point out that he never really needed all that much sleep, but stays silent on the point. She’s wandered away from his side and seems to be inspecting his apartment.

He knows she’s never been much for keeping up appearances, but he’s embarrassed just the same. He hasn’t had company since she barged in three weeks ago, and he’s barely slept here since then.

She spins, and the grin on her face is more than a little scary. “All this saving the world one story and heroic act at a time must take a lot out of a guy. Do you even sleep?”

He gapes for a moment. What the hell is she even doing here?

She doesn’t wait for an answer. “I doubt you sleep much more than I do, and I know that’s not enough.”

“Did you come here to insult my apartment, or my work-life balance?”

“Actually, I came here to solve all your problems.”

Oh, so you’ve realized Richard’s not the guy for you and you’re madly in love with me. Superman is just a perk?

He settles for quirking an eyebrow.

“We are going out.” She waves two tickets in front of his face like he should know what it means and grins at him expectantly.

“The bash at Centennial Park?” She pauses, obviously not seeing the reaction she was going for. “Tell me you didn’t actually forget tonight is New Year’s Eve, Clark.”

He blinks.

She shakes her head and stars opening cabinets, one by one, until she finds a box of plastic bags. She clears the kitchen counter into a garbage bag, starting with the pizza he pulled out when he walked in the door.

“Hey! I was eating that!”

“Yeah well, now you’ll be eating with me.”

Wait. “Why are you inviting me?” He leaves out the obvious question.

“Because I want to, Clark.” She looks tired, like she just had this discussion with someone else. He doesn’t have to wonder how Richard reacted if she’s here alone. “You’re my partner, and tonight is about putting the past behind you; looking forward.”

She looks him in the eye with such compassion it aches, and in this moment, she’s all Chloe. “Besides, with all you do for this city, you shouldn’t be alone on New Year’s Eve.”

He looks at her, and tries to pour all of his gratitude into the silence between them. “Okay.”

The apartment is clean in a heartbeat. He’s wearing his suit underneath, but he doubts she’ll mind. He extends a hand, going for gallant.

“Shall we?”

“I though you’d never ask.”

--

He hasn’t seen her smile this often since he was a boy. She just…shines, and he isn’t the only one who notices.

She’s a little tipsy. At least that’s what he tells himself to excuse the way he holds her closer every time another man looks at her appraisingly. It goes a long way toward explaining the way she clings back and leans her head on his arm as they make their way through the throngs in Centennial Park.

She tugs him over to a booth selling Superman-themed party-hats. It’s still ridiculous how thoroughly humanity commercializes their heroes. In the months since her article, he’s seen all manner of insane merchandising. His father would roll over in his fortress if he knew how popular condoms bearing their house symbol had become.

In the midst of this revelry, he can’t spare a thought to the woes of a capitalist society. She’s up on her tiptoes, leaning into him unsteadily. The husky note in her voice bowls him over, and he can hardly contain a gasp at her warm breath on his ear.

Her voice washes over him, and he wants to drown in it. “Please, Clark?”

He finally registers the rest of her request and passes the vendor a bill without breaking eye contact. Swallowing thickly, he asks the question that frequents his dreams. “What do you want?”

A slow smile stretches across her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She whispers, and he doesn’t miss the flicker of her eyes down to his lips and back up again.

Oh, God. There’s no safe way to respond, so he just lifts his hands to her elbows. He’s lost.

She takes mercy on both of them, and turns to select a tiara with a stylized “S” in colored rhinestones and an equally gaudy top-hat for him. The merchant hands both to him and he can’t fight the flare of heat that blooms when he gently places the jewels on her head. She just giggles.

She rarely allows herself to laugh these days, and it’s such an abrupt change from the day-to-day that it catches him off guard.

Teasing eyes soften as her laughter dies, and he realizes he’s stroking her cheek. He shouldn’t, but for the life of him, he just can’t stop. She’s so beautiful the idea of not touching her aches.

Her heart pounds in a cadence that matches his. He swore he wouldn’t hurt her again, so he pushes his glasses up, tucks her under is arm and starts back down the path to the lake.

It snowed most of this week, so the lake is an expanse of white lined by sparkling trees. He’s so caught up in her expressive eyes as she tells a story about Jimmy pulling off drag a little too well trying to nab a photo of the mayor’s newest fling - and almost becoming the news, himself - that he fails to notice the kid until he’s right behind her.

Her eyes widen, her heart rate spiking, and he knows something is horribly wrong.

The boy can’t be more than 16, but he’s obviously worse for the wear. His pulse is racing and his pupils are dilated unnaturally. Switching to x-ray, Clark’s stomach drops when he realizes the kid is digging a loaded gun into her back. It’s too close for even Superman to catch the bullet.

“Hand over your watch and your wallet, and nobody gets hurt.”

Clark is stuck. He can’t do anything but comply without risking her. He reaches slowly into his coat pocket to pull out his wallet, and the boy takes a step toward him, turning the gun to the side for an instant.

That moment is all Clark needs to relieve the kid of his gun and toss him 30 feet into a snow bank. The boy scrambles when he realizes he’s five feet from a policeman on horseback and limps into the night.

Clark is already hovering over Lois, desperate to know she’s alright. After everything with Kenny, he suspects there are a few aspects of her gift she might not have mentioned, but he’s still terrified at the thought of losing her.

She smiles ruefully. “I’m fine, Clark. Nothing a hot cup of Joe won’t fix.”

He nods toward the Starbuck’s stand, and she hooks an arm in his elbow, leading the way as always and completely unfazed.

God, he loves this woman.He doesn’t get a kiss to ring in the New Year, but he’s not imagining that the hug that lasts till almost 12:05am means more than just friendship. Her heart tells him as much.

---

She’s gorgeous, and he wants to be sick.

Nervous, and slightly flustered by a tardy florist, she stands expectantly in front of the mirror. She picks up the diamond necklace uncertainly and looks back at Clark with pleading eyes.

“Clark, can you please…?”

It’s her something borrowed, from Oliver, no less, and she looks terrified to touch the thing, much less wear it.

“Sure, Lo…” He crosses to her, lifting the jewels to her neck.

His hand brushes the delicate skin at her nape, and he holds back a gasp. He feels her pulse quicken under his touch, and the sensation is louder than anything he ever heard with his ears.

He looks over her shoulder and is struck by how right the picture is – him in his suit and her in her gown. He gives himself a mental shake, remembering this is not his day.

The moment is theirs and he wants to cry.

His fingers feel about three times their normal size as he attempts to fasten the delicate clasp. When he finally manages it, he steps back like he was burned.

Contrary to the story her heart tells, she looks so much the blushing bride. An uncertain smile breaks across her features, and she sighs.

“I am so, so scared right now. God! Get it together, Lane.”

Even in his heartache, he can see the humor in watching the interminably tough Lois Lane pacing frantically in lace and talking to herself. He just can’t bring himself to laugh.

He did this. He practically pushed her into Richard’s arms. This is his penance.

“He’s a great guy, isn’t he, Clark?”

Ouch. “He is.”

“And we’re going to be happy.”

“You are.”

“And you’re happy for us, right?”

“I…am.” He’s never been a good liar, and she stops cold, pinning him with the look she saves for her toughest sources.

“Then tell me something.”

Uh-oh.

“Why did you stop listening?”

“I…” He can’t answer her.

“Why did you even listen for me first?”

“You…I…”

She advances on him slowly, and he swallows his tears. This is too cruel.

“Clark. I need to know.”

Doesn’t she know this is killing him already?

“Please.” He begs. “Please don’t make me…” He’s only marginally surprised at the depth of his reaction. Most of his life is spent burying who he really is and what he really wants. Having the one person who knows all of him, who he wants more than anything, beg him for truth is beyond cruel.

It’s more than he can handle.

He crushes his lips to hers in answer. Hot tears break free in the same moment as his passion. For this one moment, she has all of him.

She gasps in surprise, and his stomach drops. He almost pulls back in shock when she responds in kind, granting his tongue access and caressing it eagerly with her own.

His entire body hums with electricity at finally holding her this way, and his hand finds its way to the nape of her neck, tilting her head back for better access.

When they finally come up for air, his body is thrumming and his hands are shaking. He can’t decide whether he wants to be let down easy or hard.

It’s her wedding day, and he suspects he’s deserved the latter since he left her on the dance floor freshman year.

She leans her forehead against his and breathes deep. “Oh, Clark. What am I going to do with you?”

“Just…just please, love me. I…I know I don’t deserve it. I know Richard does, but I just…I can’t…”

“I know. It’s okay.” Her patient smile reminds him of the time she begged him to let her go, and his heart twists painfully. He grasps her shoulders as tightly as he dares.

“No. No, you don’t know. I…when I heard you, I thought…my whole world was over. I wasted so much time running away from how I felt for you. Even when we were kids. It was big, and it scared me, and I knew I was never good enough for you.” The tears are flowing freely, and he’s unashamed at the display.

“If you marry Richard, I’ll still be here.” He turns, because he can’t look her in the eye. “I’ll always be here. I just want you to know that it’s not such a miracle that someone would choose you.

"It was always you, Chlo.”

His heart is a freight train and hers is as steady as the tide. He’s lost.

She takes his hands in hers. “Meet me at Planet. Rooftop.”

She sweeps out of the room, gown and all. Of course she no longer wants him in the wedding.

Three hours later, he’s in full costume and his mind is racing over a million scenarios. He could have listened, but he wasn’t sure he could handle what he’d hear.

The wind rustles, the sphere creaks as it makes its 70th rotation since he’s been here. He bows his head at the telltale scrape of the door. He’s never been so terrified in his life.

He just wishes he could stop trembling.

She stands beside him, looking out across their city. No matter what she’s about to say, it will always be their city.

“So…”

“So?”

She takes a deep breath. “I sent everyone home.”

“You w-what?” Hope blooms

"I told Richard it wasn’t fair to commit my life to him if my heart was already spoken for.”

He has to fight the urge to fall at her feet in gratitude. Instead, he raises a tentative hand to her cheek. “It is?”

“I’m afraid so, Superman. The truth is I’m in love with someone else.”

He drops his hand, confused.

“His name is Clark Kent.”

He can’t resist the pull for another second, and sweeps her up into the kiss he’s been dreaming about for months.

Slowly, they spin upward from the rooftop. They’re hovering a hundred feet above when she pulls back, flashing the trademark grin that could outshine the sun.

“Take me flying, Clark.”

Her heart beats in cadence with his, and he might just burst with joy. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Lois.”

He listens, and knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is exactly where he needs to be.

---

End