A/N: Have no fear, a new part is here! laugh

Part 17

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Part 18


Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the last remnant of Michel's birthplace was taken from him, forever: Clark would never come back.

Michel sat on the edge of his bed, staring dumbly at the phone in his hand before finally hanging it up for the hundredth time without ever dialing. There was no point, he told himself. His parents were right: being friends with Clark was dangerous. Besides, Clark probably wouldn't want to talk to him anymore, anyway.

He glanced at the phone again. Just one call wouldn't hurt, surely? Just to ensure that they at least parted on better terms.

He owed Clark that much, at least, considering that in the few months they'd known each other, he'd been the best friend Michel had ever had. No one else truly understood what it was like to spend every day pretending to be normal when, in reality, you might not even be human. No one else had encouraged him to revel in his own abilities, to touch the sky and race the sunset. No one else...

He hefted the phone in his hand again, unaware that he had even picked it up. He stared at it for a long time, thinking, then frowned. He shouldn't call.

**********

"Uh, Clark? Scrabble words are supposed to be in English, remember?"

Clark looked down at the game board between him and Lois. With a flush, he began picking up the tiles he had just put down mere seconds ago. “Sorry—hey,wait a minute; didn't you just get away with 'chumpy'?”

Lois shrugged. “'Chumpy' is English!” she defended. “Just because you don't think so, that doesn't give you the right to start cheating with foreign words. What was that, Spanish?”

Clark hesitated. “French,” he admitted.

The board now clear, Lois began placing her own tiles in a spot near the one Clark had just vacated. “Huh. Well, too bad you don't get to use that Q.” She paused a second before adding a final 'S' to the end of her creation. “It was in the wrong spot, anyway; a little further up, and you could've got the Double Word score. Thirty-six points, Clark.” She tapped the score-sheet impatiently.

Clark rolled his eyes and dutifully picked up the complimentary notepad and pencil that the Lexor Hotel had provided. At the last second, he glanced at her word. “Really, Lois?!”

She stared back at him, her expression the picture of innocence. “What?”

He opened his mouth, ready to argue the merits of “Sesquipedates”, but thought better of it. With a shake of his head, he added the points to her column.

“So, what does it mean?” she asked him.

Clark raised an eyebrow at her. “Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

“I mean your word,” she clarified. “Is it the French word for monkies?”

He stilled, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “It...um...it means “miss”.”

“Oh!” Lois stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then grinned. “Je suis Manques Lane,” she said in a nearly-passable accent.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Um, not that kind of miss,” he told her. “It means...when you miss someone.” He fell quiet.

Lois leaned over the board, frowning at him. “Are you okay?” she asked, softly.

Clark's first instinct was to assure her that he was fine. He met her eyes, staring straight back at him with undisguised concern, and the lie died on his lips. He let the score-pad drop to the carpet and leaned back, propping himself up with his hands. “Did you ever have someone that you thought was a close friend, and then, one day, without warning...they abandon you?”

Lois stared at him for several seconds, then snorted. “You're kidding, right?”

Clark blinked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Do you not remember the heat-wave a few months ago?!” Lois asked, rolling her eyes.

Clark sighed. “Lois, that's different; Superman was being actively run out of town on a rail. It wasn't really that much of a surprise that he'd try to leave.”

Lois shook her head. “I don't mean Superman. I mean you!”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you!” Lois shifted her position, drawing her arms around her knees. “You were going to just leave me—I mean, the Planet. Remember? I thought that working there meant a lot to you, but you were just going to walk out of there without a second thought!”

“Lois...”

“It's a good thing Dr. Renaud had been there that night, or you'd be long gone by now!” she complained.

Clark paused. “It is a good thing he was there,” he agreed. “But Lois, I never really wanted to leave the Planet...or you.”

He'd never wanted to leave.

“I just... thought I had to,” he continued.

He'd had to!

Lois's forehead crinkled in confusion. “Why did you think you had to?”

“It's...complicated,” Clark replied. “But Lois, you're one of the closest friends I have, and I don't take that lightly.”

She ducked her head to hide a smile. “Oh, stop...” she protested.

“No, really,” said Clark. “I never meant to hurt you, and I'm sorry that I did. I just can't believe that you got married and didn't tell me!"

Lois stared at him with an odd expression. “What?”

“What?” Clark echoed, feeling confused.

She tilted her head. “Me getting married? What are you talking about?”

Clark tried to figure out where the thought had come from. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt something vaguely like radio static. A few words managed to break through:

...YOU'RE...ON...YOUR...HONEYMOON?!


TBC...


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