Then he heard a voice.

"Clarkie."

He forced his vision to focus on the blurry form that was approaching him.

"Clarkie," she said. "You've finally realised that you want what only Ezzie can give you. Come with me, Snookums."

Esmeralda took a firm grip on his arm, and Clark tried to lurch away. He had no strength left to protest. She pulled him forward ... towards her unit.

Clark lifted his free hand to the arm that had been captured by Esmeralda and managed to undo his watchband. As she shuffled him past Lois's door, he let his arm swing free and heard his watch clatter onto the concrete.


Part 23

Lois ran from the Richmond train station to her unit. She rushed to her door and inserted the key. Then she stopped. Turned. Stared.

Behind her, lying on the ground, was a watch.

She walked over and picked it up.

It was Clark's watch. She was sure of it. She had noticed it before - usually when checking out his superbly masculine hands. She ran her fingers along the band, recalling how she'd taken it from his wrist when he'd tried on the footy gear. It felt the same ... weighed the same.

She raised it to her nose and inhaled deeply.

The band smelled of leather ... but there was something else ... a whiff of his cologne. This was definitely Clark's watch.

He had been here!

Lois rushed to her door and fumbled slightly with the key in her haste to get into her unit. Finally, the lock cooperated, and she pushed inside. "Clark?" she called.

It took only a few seconds to check every room. He wasn't here. Actually, that now she had time to consider it rationally, how could he be here? He didn't have a key to her unit.

Was he at Dan's place? Had Clark come here and left his watch so she would know he was back from Adelaide?

But why not a note? Why not ring her?

Lois rushed to her doorway and surveyed outside.

There was nothing else ... nothing unusual ... nothing to suggest Clark had been here.

But he *had* been here.

Then an idea struck.

Esmeralda.

Maybe she had seen something ... heard something. She always kept a running tab of everyone's comings and goings.

Lois went to Esmeralda's door and knocked sharply. "Esmeralda!" she called. "It's Lois. Are you in?"

Her knock was ignored. Lois leant closer and placed her ear against the door. She heard a low moan - a low, masculine moan.

That explained why Esmeralda wasn't answering her door. Lois turned towards her own apartment, planning to call Clark's mobile. She stopped after two steps. The moan had been low and almost indistinguishable, but it was definitely male.

Could it be Clark?

And if it were Clark, was he moaning in pain? Or ... something else?

She had to know.

Lois scuttled back to her unit and rifled through her bag for her lock-picking tools. Less than a minute later, she opened Esmeralda's front door and stepped into her unit.

It was the mirror-image design to Lois's unit. From the bedroom on Lois's left, Esmeralda emerged. She saw Lois, gasped, and quickly closed the door behind her.

"Lois," Esmeralda said, unsuccessfully trying to cover her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to get Clark," Lois said firmly.

Esmeralda backed against the bedroom door, blocking Lois's way. "What makes you think Clark is here?" she drawled with a smug smile.

"I know he's in there," Lois said. "And he's coming with me."

"Lois, Lois," Esmeralda said. "Of course I'm willing to share, but first come, first served. Come back in twenty minutes, and he's all yours."

Lois stepped closer. "Get out of the way," she ordered.

Esmeralda's smirk died, and her eyes narrowed. "Make me," she said.

Lois executed a highly effective move that she had perfected at her self-defence classes, and Esmeralda stumbled away from the door, slumped over and clasping her arm.

"Aaaaahhhh," Esmeralda squealed, her voice high-pitched and piercing.

Lois stalled, fearing she had actually done significant damage. "What's wrong?" she asked coldly, not allowing even a trace of her concern to show in her words.

Esmeralda looked up, her eyes glinting with dismay. "You broke my nail," she howled.

With a disgusted snort, Lois turned from the woman and opened the door.

Clark lay on the bed. He saw her and tried to rise. Lois moved forward, her eyes flitting over him and assessing his appearance. He wasn't well - that much was immediately obvious. His face was pallid, and his body had an overt listlessness that intensified Lois's fears. His jacket had been removed, half of his shirt buttons were undone, and his glasses were slightly askew.

Other than that, he appeared to be untouched.

Lois leant over and straightened Clark's glasses. She felt a wave of revulsion for Esmeralda. How could she not have even noticed that Clark was sick? Or if she *had* noticed, how could she not care? Could she be that much of a predator that she was willing to inflict her dubious 'favours' on a sick man?

Clark's eyes hadn't left her face. Lois took his hand in hers.

"L ... Lo ..." he said.

She used her other hand to brush the hair from his forehead. "It's OK," she soothed. "We'll get you to my place. You'll be fine then."

"I ... I ... didn't ... Esm ..."

"I know you didn't," Lois said. "Can you stand up? With my help?"

Clark nodded slightly and struggled to a sitting position. Lois knelt beside him and looked up into his face. He heavy breathing resonated around the room.

What if their combined strength was not enough? Lois was reasonably confident she could bully Esmeralda into helping, but did she really want that woman touching Clark?

"I ... I can ... do it," Clark breathed. "If you help me?"

Lois gave him an encouraging smile and was rewarded as he scrambled to his feet. She placed his arm across her shoulder. "Are you right?" she asked. "Lean on me as much as you need."

She felt his slight nod of agreement, and they began their faltering steps out of Esmeralda's bedroom.

Once in the lounge room, Esmeralda glowered at them with sullen resentment. She was still nursing the finger with the broken nail. Knowing Clark needed to rest for a moment, Lois paused.

"You drugged him," she accused, staring directly at Esmeralda.

"I -"

"You drugged him," Lois repeated, low and cold. "This is a police matter now."

All of Esmeralda's bravado melted instantly. "Please," she begged, looking genuinely alarmed. "Please don't bring the police into this."

Lois's heart iced over. What *had* Esmeralda done to Clark? Why was she so worried?

With a sudden flash of insight, Lois understood. It wasn't about Clark; it was about all the other men who so regularly visited Esmeralda's unit. Lois decided now was as good a time as any to lay down some rules. "See this man?" she shot at Esmeralda.

"What about him?" she asked sulkily.

"This one is mine," Lois said firmly. "Keep your eyes, and your hands, and your pretty painted fingernails, and everything else off him. He's mine. And he's always going be mine."

Esmeralda's jaw flailed.

Lois felt a slight quiver pass through Clark's body and she turned to him, worried that he might be about to lose consciousness.

Instead, on his face she saw a fledgling smile. He still had about as much colour as porridge, but he was definitely smiling.

It took a moment for her to comprehend.

He was smiling at her declaration of possession! Clearly, she hadn't offended him - though her words were intended to send a message to Esmeralda, not to Clark.

Lois met Clark's eyes, and they both smiled. "Let's get out of here," she said.

He nodded, and together they lumbered out of Esmeralda's unit, along the concrete path, and into Lois's home. She kicked at the door, and it slammed behind them. She continued towards her bedroom, but Clark halted.

"No," he rasped. "The couch will do."

"You're not going on the couch," she said resolutely. "It's half your size." Without giving him the opportunity to argue, she continued to her bedroom door and opened it.

At her bed, he collapsed. Lois positioned her pillow for him and then helped him swing his legs onto the bed. "I'll call the doctor," she said.

"No!" His hand reached out for her. "No," he said. "Please, just stay with me." With difficulty, he shuffled over to make room for her to sit on the bed. "Please?"

"Clark, I think you need a doctor," Lois said. "You look awful and ... and ..." To her dismay, she felt all of her tightly bound anxiety well up into her throat and morph into tears. She turned away and surreptitiously tried to wipe her eyes.

She heard a movement behind her, and Clark's hand cupped her shoulder. She turned and saw him teetering on his feet. "Why are you doing?" she admonished. "You look like you're about to fall over."

Clark subsided back onto the bed. "Please, don't cry, honey," he begged. "Please ... don't cry."

Lois sat next to him. "Clark ... I was so worried about you."

His eyes dropped, and his shoulders sagged. "I know," he said in a low, hoarse voice. "I'm sorry."

He looked crushed - so crushed that Lois drew a heavy cloak over her mountain of questions. Clark was all right. He was here. He'd come home.

She spread her hand over his cheek and he straightened. "You're OK," she said. "And you came back."

He smiled tentatively and covered her hand with his own. "Lois ..." he said. "Thank you."

There was much to suggest his gratitude carried a wealth of meaning, but Lois grasped the simplest interpretation. "I couldn't leave you with *Esmeralda*," she said.

"Thanks," Clark said. His eyes, soft and expressive, held hers captive. "Will you stay here with me?" he asked. "Please?"

His heartfelt request drove her questions further into the Outback of her mind. There would be time for answers later. "I have to call Browny first," she said.

"But then you'll come back to me?"

She nodded.

Browny answered his phone on the first ring, and Lois told him that Clark had arrived home safely. Browny had questions, but Lois had few answers, so she evaded his queries with hazy assertions that all Clark needed was some time to recover.

Her editor gave them both the rest of the day off. Australia's Cathy Freeman was preparing for the 400 metres at the Olympics, and Browny was going to devote many column inches to that. "Just get yourselves - both of you - here on Thursday afternoon," Browny said gruffly. "Fit, healthy, and ready to write me something earth-shattering."

"OK," Lois agreed, hoping her relief wasn't too obvious. "Thanks, Browny."

Lois returned to her bedroom and looked down at Clark. He patted the bed next to him, silently asking her to sit beside him. "You look tired," he said.

"I didn't sleep last night."

"I'm sorry," he said. Again, he patted the bed. "Sit down?" he said. "Please?"

Lois sat next to him but was careful to ensure there was no contact between them. "Shouldn't you lie down?" she said. "Before you fall down?"

"Will you stay with me? Please?"

The undisguised plea in his voice broke the last of Lois's restraints. She needed him. She needed to assure herself that he was here and he was safe. And ... there was every indication that *he* needed her.

She gently pushed him back onto her pillow and then pulled together the unbuttoned upper sections of his shirt, covering the slither of bare skin. After a final glance into his face, she stretched out alongside him and rested her head on his chest.

His heart was racing faster than normal and Lois realised she should again insist that she ring the doctor. Or, before this closeness became totally addictive, she should demand to know what he was hiding.

But there was something about the way his hand had closed around her head, something about his presence that assured her ... that made her believe that although she had a million questions, he would have answers for all of them.

She was with Clark ... and for now, nothing else mattered.

Lois closed her eyes and was beckoned into sleep by the soft lullaby of his heart and the gentle rocking of his breaths.

||_||

When Lois awoke, her first awareness was of Clark's hand on her back. Her second was of his chest beneath her cheek. Her third was that her hand was resting intimately on the crest of his ribcage. She must have moved while she was asleep because a good portion of her face was directly skin-on-skin with his chest. She strangled her urgent instinct to pull away and permitted herself a stolen moment to relish being this close to him. He felt amazing - soft and warm skin over rock hard and exquisitely defined muscle.

From below came the sound of a phone. Lois sat up, her attention drawn to his jeans pocket. She could see the outline of his mobile phone.

She should answer it. It was probably his parents or someone else worried about Clark.

But to answer it, she had to reach into his jeans pockets and extract his phone.

Lois stared - her hand airborne and irresolute - as the phone shrilled throughout the quiet room.

||_||

The sound of his phone invaded Clark's consciousness.

His chest felt cold, as if something warm and vital had recently moved away.

Without opening his eyes, he reached for his pocket and removed his phone. He felt for the button, pushed it, and tried to pull some memory from amidst the fog of his brain.

"Cl ... Clark Ke..." His voice was scratchy and his throat parched.

"Clark? Where are you? How are you? Are you all right?" It was his mother's voice.

His memories flooded back. Trask ... Mayson ... the green rock ... and ... His eyes shot open ... and Lois. She was still here. Still with him. Sitting on the bed, next to him.

With his other hand, he reached for her, and her hand slipped into his. She smiled hesitantly ... and his entire world swam in a sea of happiness - he was with Lois, and she was smiling.

"Clark?"

"Ah ... Mom," he said. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Mom," Clark said with real regret as he realised how much time had probably passed since he had escaped from Trask's clutches. "I'm sorry. I should have called you before now."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm with Lois."

"In Australia?"

"Yes."

He heard his mom's deep sigh of relief and hot shame again swept through him. He should have thought to call his parents before he fell asleep. He should have known how worried they would be. "I'm really sorry, Mom," he said.

"It's OK, Clark," his mom said. Most of the anxiety had left her voice. "We heard on the news that Superman had escaped. And Superman doesn't have to worry anymore because Trask is dead, and before he died, he launched the rocket containing the green rock."

Aware that Lois was with him, Clark clamped down on his questions and just allowed the knowledge to seep through him.

"We're so glad you're OK," his mom said. "And we're glad you're with Lois."

"Thanks, Mom," Clark said. He was glad he was with Lois, too.

"Call us when things settle."

"Sure, Mom. I love you. Give my love to Dad."

"I love you, too, Clark. And we're very glad you're OK."

Clark disconnected the call and tossed his cell onto the bed. He sat up and looked at Lois. It felt like he'd been away from her for weeks. He loved her. He loved looking at her. He loved being with her. Every ounce of effort spent in getting to her had been worth it. He would do it all again - a hundred times - if it meant being with Lois.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Much better," he said. "Thanks to you."

"I didn't do much," she said. "I fell asleep instead of looking after you."

The last thing Clark remembered was the wonderful weight of Lois's head and her steady breaths as they skittered across his chest. He hadn't wanted to sleep - he hadn't wanted to miss one moment of their togetherness. But too quickly, exhaustion had overtaken him. "I fell asleep, too," he said.

"I think you needed it," she said. "You looked awful when I brought you in here."

"Lois," he said. "Lois, you know I didn't want to go with Esmeralda, don't you?"

She nodded. "How did she get you in there?"

"I came here, looking for you," Clark said. "She found me, and ... it's all very vague, but the next thing I remember is you barging into the room." He hazarded a brief glance into her face. "I know that sounds incredibly convenient ... but I really don't remember too much else."

"How did you get back to Melbourne? From Adelaide?"

"I flew," he said.

"When did you get sick?"

"Earlier today."

"In Adelaide?'

Clark pressed his fingers into his forehead and released a gush of breath. He couldn't do this ... not for a moment longer. He reached for her and slid his hand along the lovely line of her throat. "I guess you were worried, huh?"

She nodded, and the tiny wobble of her chin clanked through him like pungent accusation.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said. "It won't happen again. I promise you - that will never happen again."

Lois drew away from his hand and reached across to her bedside table. She took a bunch of tissues from the box. "How can you promise something like that?" she asked.

"Because there are going to be no more secrets," Clark declared. "Not between you and me."

"Why didn't you call me?" she said, her tears still close. "Why wouldn't you answer my calls?" A tear burst from her eye and drizzled down her cheek. "Why did you just *disappear*?"

"I'll tell you," Clark said. "I'll tell you everything." He glanced around her bedroom. There were posters of various Hawthorn players covering the walls. A framed brown-and-gold jumper stood proudly atop her dressing table. "But perhaps this isn't the best place to do it."

Lois wiped her eyes. "Where?"

"In the other room - somehow, it seems less ... personal ... than in your bedroom."

Lois nodded and stood. "Are you able to stand?" she said.

Clark moved to the edge of the bed and stood. He felt almost normal again - other than a mild ache in his head and a throat that felt like he had swallowed a few tons of grit. "I'm fine," he said.

Lois went into the kitchen, filled her electric jug, and flicked it on. "Would you like something to drink?" she said.

Clark nodded. "Thanks." He sensed her need to put some distance between them. He understood completely. He would have understood if she had demanded he leave. Instead she was making him coffee.

But he'd hurt her - he'd made her cry.

Never again, he vowed.

Never again.

When she'd made their coffee, she brought the cups to the couch. They sat down - Clark being careful not to crowd her - and silently sipped their coffees.

She wasn't looking at him.

All of the closeness from being together again, from ... well, not *sleeping* together, but sleeping together ... had evaporated.

Clark couldn't even begin to imagine how confused she must feel. "Lois," he said. He turned slightly, and his legs came very close to hers. She retreated further into the couch, snatched a cushion, and hugged it against her stomach as she raised her knees in front of her.

She looked like she was defending herself against him. He understood that, too. He didn't deserve her trust.

"Lois," he said, trying to gather his thoughts as he frantically wondered if any of his numerous rehearsals were going to help him through this. Somehow, he didn't think they would be of any use at all. "Would you like to ask your questions, or would you like me to just tell you everything?"

Her eyes slowly rose from her cup and met his. "If I ask, will you answer me honestly?" Lois said. "Will you tell me whatever it is you've been hiding?"

He nodded, his eyes steady in hers. "Yes," he said. "I will tell you everything."

Lois sighed. "Clark," she said. "I'm so confused. I don't know what to think. I was so worried when you didn't answer my calls. No one knew where you were ... and I was so ... so scared that I would never see you again."

She was close to tears - and he could see how much she hated being so vulnerable before him. He rose from the couch and brought her the box of tissues. She took a wad, wiped her eyes, and sipped from her coffee. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You keep saying that," she said listlessly. "But it doesn't tell me anything."

He sat beside her. "How about I tell you ... and then, if you have any further questions, you can ask?"

She nodded.

Clark's heart was hammering so loudly he was sure half of Melbourne would be able to hear it. "Lois," he said. "I told you I was adopted."

"Yes," she said.

"What I didn't tell you was that my parents didn't get me from an adoption agency or anything like that."

"How did they get you?"

"They found me ..." He gave her a moment to register that and then forced himself to continue. "... as a baby ... in a spaceship."

Her mouth dropped open. "Who would leave a baby in a spaceship?" she asked incredulously.

Clark took a deep breath and leapt into the unknown. "Parents who knew their baby's only chance of life was if they sent him to another planet."

Her mouth closed and her throat lurched as she swallowed. Her eyes had widened, but now snapped shut as if she were hoping that when she opened them again, things would seem more believable. When her eyelids rose, she stared at him.

"I'm not from this planet," Clark said softly. "I'm from a planet called Krypton. I was sent here because my biological parents knew that Krypton was about to be destroyed. My adoptive parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent, found me and raised me as their own child." He stared at Lois, not even daring to breathe as he awaited her response.

Lois placed her cup on the lamp-stand, moving in the slowest of slow motion. When she turned to him, she stared again. Then, suddenly, understanding flooded her face. "Y... you're S...Superman?" she squeaked.

"I'm Clark Kent ... but when my powers are needed to help someone, I change into the suit, and that way ... I can still be just Clark all the other time."

"Powers?" she gulped.

"I'm strong, and I'm fast, and I can see through things and hear long distances."

"You were in *Metropolis*? What happened? How did Trask hurt you?"

"The only thing I've ever known that can hurt me is a green rock. We think it came to Earth from my planet ... probably in the wake of my spaceship. Trask had some of that ... it hurts, and it wipes out my powers and weakens me ... and I think that if I were exposed to it for a long time, it would probably kill me."

"Did you know about it?" Lois asked. "Before ... what Trask did?"

"Yes," Clark answered. "We found some in the fields close to our home. It was the first time I had ever experienced pain. My parents gathered it up and wrapped it in lead - which protects me from it - and I threw it into space."

"How did you escape from Trask?"

"He had the unshakable idea that the green rock was the source of my powers. He brought it close to me - and that's why I was so weak. Then he said he was going to shoot it into space, so I would lose my power source and no longer be a threat to humanity."

"What does power your ... powers?"

"The sun energises me. And heals me ... after I've been exposed to the rock."

"Then shouldn't you have been outside just now? Instead of ...?" She gestured to her bedroom.

He'd needed *her* - being with Lois had restored him more than the sun ever could. But Clark wasn't sure she would be receptive to that particular insight right now, so he waited for her next question.

"Are you the only one?" Lois asked. "Are there others from your planet?"

"I'm the only one."

"The rocket was launched. Was the green rock in it?"

"Mom said that is what's being reported."

"So when Trask took it away ... that's how you were able to regain enough strength to rescue Mayson? And escape?"

Clark nodded.

"If your powers had been significantly weakened, how did you get back here? *Why* did you come back here?"

Now he had to tell her. "To get to you."

He hoped she would smile - just a glimmer would have meant the world to him. But she didn't. She stared at him - his face, his hands, his chest, and then back to his face. The silence stretched on, and Clark wondered if he should say more, or if he should wait for her to process what he had already said.

Lois cleared her throat. "You ... you can fly?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Fast? Like an aeroplane?"

"Usually a lot faster than that."

"Faster than a jet?" she asked. Her expression suggested she wasn't necessarily buying this.

"When I haven't been near any green rock, I can get from Metropolis to Melbourne in less than a minute," he said, stating it as plain fact.

Lois pinned him with hard, cool eyes. "You said you were going to be honest," she said accusingly.

"I am being honest," he said quietly.

"Prove it," she challenged.

"You want me to fly to Metropolis?"

"No. Even I can see that wouldn't be possible - you're still not fully recovered from whatever it was that made you so sick."

Clark studied her. Did she not believe him? Did she think he was making it up to cover something else? What else could possibly make *this* seem the easier of two options? "You don't believe I was in Metropolis?" he said. "You don't believe I got sick from exposure to the green rock?"

Lois sighed. "Honestly, Clark? I have no idea what to believe."

Clark placed his coffee on the floor and stood up from the couch. As Lois watched him, he slowly rose from the floor and hung in the air.

She gasped.

She looked him up and down.

She dropped from the couch to the floor and swished her hands in the space under his dangling feet.

Then she slithered back to the couch and stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide. "You can come down now," she directed tonelessly.

He dropped lightly to the floor and sat again on the couch. "I'm sorry, Lois," he said, not knowing what else to say and hoping that would cover whatever she was feeling.

"Clark ... this is ... I'm ... I'm going to need some time."

"I understand," he said. "You can have as much time as you need. And you can ask anything you want ... and I promise I will answer fully and honestly."

"Anything?"

"Anything. You can ask me anything. I don't want any secrets from you."

"Who else knows about this? Perry White? Mayson? Half of Metropolis? Your friends?"

Clark shook his head. "No one knows. Just my parents ... me ... and now you."

"No one?" she whispered. "Not your colleagues? Not your former girlfriends? Not your cousins? Not the neighbour's kid you grew up with? *None* of them know?"

"No."

Lois swallowed again, her eyes still riveted to his face. "Clark ... I have a lot to think about."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, dreading her answer.

She slowly nodded, and Clark's greatest fears assailed him. He had driven her away. He was *too* different. He was odd ... creepy ... alien.

"I ... I think that would be best," Lois said. Her voice had a faraway tone that suggested her mind was a quagmire of bewilderment.

He wanted to apologise ... again. Instead, he stood, replaced his half-empty cup on her kitchen counter, and went to the door. He turned and faced her; he had no idea what to say. Should he thank her? Should he remind her that he would answer all of her questions? Should he assure her that whatever she decided, he would accept it - however much it hurt him? Should he forego every last trace of dignity and beg her not to push him away? He didn't know, so he just looked at her looking at him.

Then, he opened her door.

"Clark!"

"Yes?" He turned, impossible hope surging through him.

"I won't tell anyone," Lois said. "I don't know anything else ... but I do know that. I won't tell anyone."

Clark smiled sadly. It was small compensation for having gouged a cavernous gulf between them ... a gulf that he feared could never be bridged. "I know that, Lois," he said. "I know."

He waited for moment, hoping she would say more, but she didn't, so Clark quietly closed her door and walked into the darkness.

It was Monday night.

Tomorrow, they were supposed to travel along the Great Ocean Road together.

Clark walked back to his unit. His body felt as if it were close to being totally recovered. His heart though - he knew that would never recover.

He'd lost Lois.

He could feel it.

He'd lost her.

||_||

When Clark arrived home, he called his parents on Dan's phone. His cell was still on Lois's bed. He told them how he had escaped from Trask, and they filled him in with the slowly-coming-to-light details of the extremes of Trask's obsession with ridding the world of Superman.

"What are they saying?" Clark asked. "Do the people believe Trask and see him as a tragic hero who wasn't able to convince the world of his views? Or do they believe he was wrong?"

"It seems mixed right now," his dad said. "I think many are still in shock. And it's early morning here, so there was a lull overnight."

"I told Lois," Clark said dejectedly. "I told her everything."

His announcement was met with a prolonged silence from both of his parents. "What did she say?" his mom finally asked.

"She didn't know what to say," Clark said.

"Is that what has you so upset?" his mom asked.

"Yeah."

"I could tell from your voice that you were down, but I hoped it was just the after-effects of the green rock."

"I'm not sure I could do a long distance flight, but I feel like I'm almost back to normal," Clark said.

"You managed to fly to Australia," his dad said. "We figured you must be all right."

"Yeah," Clark said. No way was he going to tell them how long it had taken or how many times he had feared that he was going to be stranded somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

"Did Lois say anything?" his mom asked. "Anything about what happens from here?"

"No. Just that she wouldn't tell anyone."

"She probably needs some time to think it through," his mom said brightly. "I'm sure it must have been a surprise to her."

Clark clamped down on his sigh. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that Lois would be able to accept his alien-ness. "I'm really tired," he said. "But I wanted you to know that I'm fine ... physically."

"Give her time, Clark," his mom said. "Just give her some time."

"Good night, Mom, Dad," Clark said. They didn't respond. "Oh, good morning," he amended.

Clark replaced the phone and slumped onto the couch.

He had looked forward to Tuesday morning with such blissful anticipation. Now it was nearly here ... and all he felt was despair.

They had never had their date.

He had never kissed her.

He had never said he loved her.

He shouldn't have told her his secret - not yet. He should have waited.

But if he'd waited - waited until he'd experienced greater closeness with Lois - it would have just hurt more.

No, he thought disconsolately.

Nothing could hurt more than this.

Not even the green rock.