Thanks to LaraMoon, my amazing beta.
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Part 6 might come up with some delay. Following parts are already written, but real life can be very busy. So please stay patient with me.
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I hope you'll enjoy this part. Please leave some feedback. Will you? 
From Part 4:“A dead body,” Lois muttered. “I’m trying to find out who set those buildings on fire and all I get is another daily Metropolis drama.”
“Hey, maybe it’s a hint. One of the arsonists or whatever,” Clark said to cheer her up. Lois only shot him a glance as if to ask whether he really believed that. He didn’t. This would be just another ugly picture in his head that would lead to a few lines in the newspaper.
Serendipitous Infinity
by bakasi
Part 5 Lois would kill him! She most definitely would kill him, Clark thought miserably. But he hadn’t been able to tell her. The problem was that he really should mention this. They were partners and investigated this story together. They hadn’t been friends for a long time now, just for a few days. Their friendship was not strong enough to survive his betrayal, assuming that what he suspected turned out to be right. What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t thought at all. Clark had just seen the face of the dead man who had been found at the docks and panic had made further decisions. Though he hadn’t thought that possible, Clark had recognized one of the men from the other night in the victim. The man had been killed when he had been unconscious. And Clark hadn’t told Lois about this; he hadn’t told her that he knew the victim.
Clark had a hard time dealing with those lives he hadn’t been able to save. He tried to convince himself that his failure wasn’t that bad. Actually, he couldn’t know if the murder was connected to the arsons. But somehow, he couldn’t help the feeling that it was the case. However, could he really tell Lois something he didn’t even know for sure? On the other hand, he figured that Lois would want to hear this. She desperately wanted a hint and if there was any evidence, she would find it. The idea was ridiculous. How could the victim be connected to the arsonists?
Clark took Jimmy’s folder to prove to himself that there was nothing to worry about. He was just seeing things. It just couldn’t be. This would just be too much a coincidence. The murderer hadn’t cared that the police would be able to identify his victim. The dead man had still had his wallet with his driver’s license. Clark knew the name. Ryan Northwood. He started flipping through the folder. Clark kept telling himself that this would be just way too weird as one page after the other he found no sign of that name. It wouldn’t appear. He might just as well have stopped, but that was not how he handled such things. It didn’t hurt to look. He didn’t give up that easily. And he wanted a hint as well, something that would explain the events of the last weeks. But Clark wasn’t sure whether he’d like this kind of hint. He shook his head and concentrated on the folder. There was still nothing that resembled Northwood even just a bit. He had almost gone through the entire pile of papers. It wouldn’t appear. His gut feeling was wrong, but that wasn’t surprising. After all he was still a greenhorn, wasn’t he? Clark froze as the name finally appeared. Ryan Northwood. The date of birth was exactly the same as on the driver’s license.
A jolt of electricity shot through his body as soft female hands touched his shoulders. He looked up, startled. Lois was leaning forward to look over his shoulder as he was sitting at his desk.
“Did you find something?” Lois inquired. She had surely seen that he’d found something. She had a talent to detect such things. He had flipped through that folder almost slowly, aware that his co-workers were close.
“Yes,” he managed to say, still shocked both by the effect Lois’ touch had had on him and by the name he had found. Clark opened the folder completely and pointed with his finger on Jimmy’s notes about Ryan Northwood. That man had been in one of the burning buildings. Obviously, the arsonists hadn’t been successful with whatever they had planned with him in the first place.
“Wow!” was all Lois could reply. She sat down on the edge of his desk and read the paper. It took her a while. Clark watched her as the expression on her face changed from disbelief to utter astonishment. He could see that she was thinking just the same as he had a few minutes before. It was weird, impossible, maybe for him even more than for her. Or was it the other way round, because there was no way she was going to understand why exactly he had tried to find Northwood’s name in that list. Or why he had found it so quickly. “How is that possible? And how did you find that?” Lois continued after an eternity of silence. Clark answered both questions with a shrug.
“He wasn’t in Smallville. But I think we should do some research on that Institute,” he suggested.
Lois nodded and glanced at her wristwatch. “Jimmy can do this. I think you should call it a day. Becca is certainly waiting for you and I don’t want to risk our new found truce.”
* * *
When Clark arrived in front of the school, Becca and a few other children were playing in the yard. She saw him almost at once and ran over to him, grinning. Her face was flushed from the game they had played and she was panting. But she looked absolutely happy and Clark was grateful to be greeted by this kind of expression. It cheered him up like even watching Lois hadn’t been able to. Usually, the sight of her was enough to stop any dreary thought. But she hadn’t been able to make Mrs. Edwards disappear.
Clark swept Becca up in his arms and hugged her. “Hi, pumpkin! How are you?”
“Great, Daddy!” Becca replied and laid her arms around his neck, so that he couldn’t easily set her back on the ground. “Daddy?” she asked, sounding particularly nice. It was obvious that she wanted something.
“Yes, honey?” Clark said gently. He knew that Becca usually didn’t have any wishes that he couldn’t grant her. There was no need to be careful.
“You said that Anna could come over sometime. Can she come this weekend? On Saturday?” Becca pleaded.
Clark stopped walking. He wanted to say *Yes, of course she can come over. I’d be glad if you invited your little friend.* But there she was again, the terrible Mrs. Edwards. He saw the darting glance of her eyes, her contempt. She had promised him to come over. It was Monday, and maybe, maybe she would come to their apartment before that. Maybe it would be a good thing if Mrs. Edwards saw the two girls playing together. He still didn’t like the idea, though. What if the nice lady introduced herself just too obviously? What would Anna think about him then, or what would her parents think if she told them?
“Becky, honey,” Clark said as he shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure this is a good idea right now.” He looked up and saw Becca’s friends standing close enough to overhear to conversation.
“Why?” Becca protested.
“I’ll tell you later, honey. Would tomorrow be soon enough for Anna to know if she can come or not?” Clark asked, not wanting to disappoint Becca. This wasn’t her fault, but his. Clark mused that the incident with the policemen on the night of Lily’s death was one of the major reasons why the Child Services were watching him so closely. He tousled Becca’s hair as if this was going to change anything. “Go and get your things. Say goodbye to your friends and we’ll discuss this when we get home. Okay, pumpkin?”
“Yeah, tomorrow will be *just* soon enough,” Becca replied lamely. Obviously she was already half expecting that the discussion would only confirm his refusal. Clark patted her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. He knew that as soon as he had told her the whole story he would need much more than a light pat to do that.
Becca went inside to fetch her stuff. She didn’t hurry to get it and so it took her some time. Clark could imagine that his little girl wasn’t keen on the conversation they were going to have. He patiently waited for Becca to return and thought of a way to break the news to her gently. But how was he supposed to do that? Becca hadn’t liked any of the ladies who had visited them in the past years. He had pleaded with her to be nice to them and she had complied reluctantly. She didn’t understand his point though, and honestly he didn’t either. What had Lois said? She didn’t want to risk her truce with Becca. That sounded somewhat unlike Lois. Whatever Becca had done to turn Mad Dog Lane into Lap Dog Lane, maybe she should give Mrs. Edwards a taste of it.
When Becca returned, she stopped at Anna’s side and talked to her briefly. Anna nodded. Clark assumed that she had accepted the delay. He didn’t feel good about letting Anna wait a whole day, because normally there would have been no reason to do so. This whole situation was so awkward. Clark hoped that Child Services would leave them alone some day soon.
“Why did I have to lie to her, Daddy? I already know the answer, it’s *No*, anyway.” Becca asked sadly as she strolled over to him after she had said good-bye to her friends.
“It’s not necessarily *No*, Pumpkin,” Clark objected. “You know very well it isn’t. And if it isn’t this weekend, then it will be another.”
“Another!” Becca grumbled. “That is *No*!
“Becca, we’re not going to discuss this right here. I haven’t decided anything yet, so would you please stop acting like I did?” Clark said softly as they headed for their apartment. He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Dealing with a furious Becca wasn’t something he looked forward to. She had every right to be angry, but why did he have to be the target? This whole thing was only partially his fault. He certainly hadn’t decided to let it go out of hand. He hadn’t been the one telling the Child Services that something bad must be happening to Becca at night.
Becca pouted, not looking at him on their way to the apartment. One thing was for sure, she did know how to punish him. Her whole bearing told him clearly what she thought of being the child. She had accused him more than once that whatever he claimed, she didn’t get a chance to make decisions. It wasn’t right and she knew it. Becca had admitted that as well. But the moments when Clark had willed Becca to do something were engraved in her mind.
Like every child she longed to be a grown up, thinking that this would make her life easier. It wouldn’t, or at least not in major proportions. She’d be able to have her own bank account, a driver’s license. She would be allowed to drink alcohol, or go out on her own, maybe even without telling him where she went. He’d appreciate it if she told him, but she wouldn’t have to. Children thought that everything they *had to* do vanished out of their lives as soon as they became adults. But in fact, it only meant that they had to tell themselves what they had to do, and that tended to be more than their parents had ever made them do.
Walking next to an angry Becca was hard on Clark. He was fairly sure that their argument would be over almost as quickly as it had started, but for the time being he hated it. Becca complained about how little influence she had on him. In fact, Clark had to be careful not to show her just how completely she had him wrapped around her little finger. He sighed inwardly and cursed his fate for not having been able to tell her the news and explain it right away. But at the daycare, that had seemed impossible. Maybe the principal already knew about his special relationship with Child Services. But if this wasn’t the case, he didn’t want her to know - or anybody else for that matter.
The walk back to their apartment didn’t take long and Clark was relieved as they were finally inside and he was able to end the awful silence. He walked over to Becca, who had sat down on the sofa, her face still in a pout. She had her arms folded in front of her chest and shot him an almost angry glance. Clark sighed and sat down beside her.
“I had a visitor, today. It was a woman from Child Services. She told me that she is going to come to our apartment,” he explained.
“And that will be on Saturday?” Becca asked, for the first time really looking at him since they had left the daycare.
Clark shrugged. “I don’t know. They don’t tell you when they come exactly. Becca, honey, I didn’t say that Anna can’t come. I’m just not so sure if it would be a good idea to let her meet with the lady from Child Services. Do you think that would be good?” Clark watched her closely, trying to make it obvious that he really wanted her to think about the problem.
Becca was silent for a while and Clark waited patiently for her to say something. She had her brows furrowed and seemed very concentrated. Now and again she looked at him intensely as if she was expecting him to just give her the answer, but he kept silent. Honestly, he enjoyed seeing her musing. She looked positively adorable when she did that.
“The lady would want to talk to me, wouldn’t she?” Becca asked.
“I suppose so,” Clark replied.
“I wouldn’t have time for Anna…If the lady comes, that is.” She faced him now, the anger in her expression, vanished. It was replaced by sadness. “Anna’s mom wants to know this soon, she wouldn’t allow her to come on a moment’s notice,” Becca murmured. “Anna has several siblings, and she says that it’s difficult for her mom to organize that.”
“Uhh, I can imagine…” Clark stated. “Look, honey, if the lady comes tomorrow, I’d say go on and meet with Anna. I know that it’s not too likely that she’ll come on Saturday, anyway. Of course we can invite Anna and see what happens. I can’t deny that I’d be a bit embarrassed if Anna met the ‘nice’ lady. I assume you didn’t tell her that I’m not the one who blessed your mother with you. And I don’t think she’d understand the whole thing.”
“I guess not, I mean, even those ladies from Child Services don’t understand that you are nice. You have tried to show them, but they are just too dense!” Becca grumbled.
“Rebecca Kent!” Clark admonished her, but chuckled. “What am I hearing?” Then he turned serious again. “Becky, you already know that I’d rather postpone your meeting. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to say ’No’. Mrs. Edwards is not one of the nice ladies. She has already made up her mind about us. Maybe she’ll show up before Saturday and everything will be perfectly okay. If we manage to convince her that I’m not the child eating monster she thinks I am, that is. The question is: do you want to risk Anna seeing that woman? I guess she will be nice to both of you, at least I hope she will. I had to tell you this first, before I said yes or no.”
“I don’t really want Anna to see the lady,” Becca said. “I didn’t like the way the last one looked at me when I told her that I sleep in your bed sometimes. She even asked me if you touch me and where you do that. It was kind of silly.”
“She asked you where I touch you?” Clark asked hoarsely. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back the nausea that the mere thought of being cruel to Becca caused in him. What did they think of him? What *did* they *think* of him? He got up suddenly, following a desperate urge to breathe fresh air. This was worse than he had ever thought. He tried his best to be a good father; he comforted Becca when she was frightened. It must have been Becca’s screams that night when she had found out about his secret. Clark went out on his balcony and leaned against the wall. He sank down to the floor, defeated. Becca had followed him, she watched him, fearfully. “Why did you never tell me, honey?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I thought you’d listen in, anyway.”
Clark cracked a weak smile. “You had to know that I wouldn’t, pumpkin.”
“What’s this about, Daddy? It has to be something awful,” Becca whispered and sat down beside him. “What’s so bad about you touching me?”
“I can’t convince you to forget about that question until you’re older, can I?”
“Daddy!” Becca complained.
Clark laughed briefly as he saw the angry look on her face. “It’s okay, honey. I will try to explain. But let’s go inside again, it’s too could out here.” Clark and Becca returned into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She looked at him with huge, innocent eyes. His mouth was dry. How was he supposed to tell her such things?
“What’s so bad about touching?” Becca repeated her question.
“That’s not an easy question, Becky. You see, touching is not necessarily bad if I do it to comfort you. But there are people who touch children to hurt them. It’s not just like tanning your hide, though that’s bad enough.” Clark made a pause and looked at Becca, knowing that she wouldn’t get his point this way. He didn’t want to tell her all, because she really was too young. “You know that there is a difference as to who touches you and where…” he gave it another try. Becca still looked confused. Maybe an example would help. “Do you like it when Grandma, Grandpa or I kiss you on the cheek?” he asked.
Becca nodded. “Of course, Daddy.”
“And what do you think if Mrs. Pritchard does that?”
Mrs. Pritchard was an old lady who had a tiny café, back in Smallville. She sold ice cream and she kissed most children she either met in her café or somewhere on the streets of the small town. Therefore Becca tried to avoid Mrs. Pritchard’s place, though she had the best ice cream in town.
“It’s disgusting,” Becca replied and rolled her eyes. “I don’t like it when people I hardly know are trying to kiss me.”
“Becky, honey, there are people who wouldn’t just place kisses on your cheek. That’s one of the reasons why you should never go with strangers. But this can also happen in a family. Some adults hurt children, just because they can. This is very, very bad. The children who suffer from this are too weak to defend themselves and they don’t understand what the adults want of them,” Clark said softly.
“And what has all this got to do with touching now?” Becca wanted to know.
“If I was like one of these bad adults, I could touch you in a way that you would find even more disgusting than Mrs. Pritchard’s kisses. You wouldn’t like it although you know me.” Clark bit his lips. “I will never do anything like that to you, Becca,” he added.
“But they think you would,” Becca whispered, shocked.
“They are afraid I would,” Clark replied. “And it’s a good thing that Child Services care so that fewer children have to suffer from this.” He studied Becca’s face and tried to figure what she was thinking now. He couldn’t quite tell, but she was returning his glance intensely.
“Does that mean that I’m not allowed to sleep in your bed anymore?” Becca asked. “Just because they have the wrong ideas about you? Don’t they see that you are a nice dad?”
“It’s not something you can see, Becky, honey. And you can come to me, if you’ve got trouble sleeping. There’s nothing bad about that.”
He pulled her in an embrace and held her tightly for a while. She leaned against him and sighed with relief. They sat silently on the sofa and Clark wondered how he was going to change the topic now. He had told her what she needed to know, but as long as Becca was just a child, he’d definitely feel uncomfortable answering more questions. Clark watched Becca’s expression trying to find out if there was anything else she wanted to know.
to be continued...
