Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Accused (13/15)

Lois put her suitcase in Clark's bedroom and left his apartment.

For the first time in her life, she had a big story and felt strangely reluctant to write it. It wasn't because it involved her partner being accused of murder - she intended to write the story in such a way as to definitively quash every possible suggestion that Clark had been anything more than an innocent party caught up in a terrible tragedy.

But she didn't want to write.

She wanted to go to the police station.

She wanted to be there when Clark was released from custody.

She wanted to take him back to the Planet and write the story together.

And most of all, she wanted to get him alone. To assure him of her absolute faith in his innocence. To find out where he'd been during those lost hours.

And to tell him what she had tried to tell him earlier.

How much she regretted spurning his declaration of love.

Lois climbed into the cab that had stopped at her bidding. "Central Police Station, please," she said to the driver.


Part 13

The door to his cell swung open, and Clark looked up to see Wolfe.

His heart plummeted. This was it. He was about to be charged with murder. His life was about to become a whirlwind of lawyers, police procedure, questions, cells, and court appearances - all with no foreseeable end.

Wolfe stood before him, looking down to where Clark was sitting on the concrete floor. "You're free to leave," he said.

Clark scrambled to his feet. "Excuse me?"

"You're free to leave."

"But ... but what about ..."

"The murder of Mayson Drake? I have a confession from the murderer. She testifies that you weren't there." Wolfe grunted. "Although in her rather twisted logic, she seems to think it was your fault she pulled the trigger because you refused to marry her and take responsibility for a child that isn't yours."

"Lana?" Clark asked, although he knew it had to be.

"Yes."

"She admitted to shooting Mayson?"

"Yes."

"And you believe her?"

"We're waiting on some supporting forensic evidence - the leather jacket, her hands, other possible fingerprints on the revolver - but yes, I believe her."

"What will happen to her now?"

"She will be charged. Probably as soon as I present my case to the DA."

"She's pregnant," Clark said. "Will that be taken into consideration?"

"Not unless her lawyer tries to introduce it as a factor affecting her mental state," Wolfe said.

"But she'll be looked after? She'll have access to medical care?"

"Of course."

Clark took a step towards the door. Towards freedom. "How did you find her?" he asked. "How did you get her to confess?"

"I didn't. Lois Lane did."

"Lois?" Fear gripped Clark's throat. "Is she all right?"

"Other than continuing to suffer from a chronic lack of common sense and good judgement, she's fine."

Clark's fears receded. "Lana didn't hurt her?"

"No."

"Is Lois here?"

"No."

Disappointment sloshed through the haze of his mind.

"Mr Kent," Wolfe said. "Although I believe I have solved Ms Drake's murder and identified the perpetrator, I also believe that your actions in not answering my questions with forthrightness and clarity were extremely foolish and could have led to the wrong person being charged."

Clark nodded, accepting the detective's rebuke.

"I don't know what you were trying to achieve," Wolfe said. "Henderson believes your actions were driven by the belief that Ms Lang intended to hurt Ms Lane."

"Lana threatened to kill her."

"When you took the weapon from her?"

"Yes."

"This is Metropolis. It's not hard to get another weapon."

"Lana is from Smallville. I hoped she wouldn't know where to get another gun. I couldn't leave the gun on her - not after she'd said she knew Lois worked at the Planet."

"Why didn't you bring the gun to us? Why didn't you tell us of Ms Lang's threats against Ms Lane?"

"Because I didn't think you would believe me. I knew I was your primary suspect. My prints were on the weapon, Mayson was killed in my apartment."

"What did Superman have to do with this? Did he hide the weapon in the subway?"

"No. I did."

"Did he help you hide from the police?"

"No. I chose not to come to the station because I was worried about leaving Lois unprotected." Clark thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I was trying to stop another murder."

"Did Superman offer to help you evade police scrutiny?"

"I gave myself up. I walked into the police station."

Wolfe took a deep breath. "I'm not sure Superman isn't guilty of the crime of obstruction of justice," he said. "However, this city needs him more than ever after the tragedy of the lives lost in the subway collapse, so I am going to overlook my suspicions and give all my attention to ensuring justice for Ms Drake. But ..." He looked directly at Clark. "... you should inform your friend, Superman, that should there be a next time when I believe he has interfered with a police case, I *will* charge him."

Clark nodded.

"There are some papers for you to sign at the front desk," Wolfe said.

Clark walked out of the cell. Down the corridor. Past the closed doors of the interview rooms - one of which probably held Lana Lang. And to the reception area at the front of the police station.

He walked up to the desk, gave his name, received his watch and wallet, and signed the papers.

As he turned, four uniformed officers streamed from nearby rooms. "Another collapse in the subway," they called in explanation to other cops. "Three workers are trapped."

"Where's Superman?" someone asked. "I thought he was there."

"Don't know. Maybe he's trapped, too."

Clark waited a couple of seconds after the officers had sprinted through the door and then followed them. He found a deserted corner, spun into his Suit, and flew to Northwood station.

__||~||__

Lois's cell phone rang while her cab was stuck in traffic halfway between Clark's apartment and the police station. "Hi, Perry," she said after seeing his number on her display.

"Have you heard, Lois?"

"Heard what?"

"Another section of the tunnel has collapsed. Three rescue workers are trapped."

"Isn't Superman there?"

"I thought he was, but the word I'm hearing is that he left earlier this morning. I know you've been busy with Mayson's murder, but my source told me a woman is about to be charged, so I'm hoping you'll be able to get the subway story."

"Sure, Perry," Lois said, swallowing down her disappointment at the delay in seeing Clark. "I'm in a cab now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You have just saved my career, Lois," Perry said with heartfelt appreciation. "I don't think I would survive if I had to edit another story written by Ralph today."

Lois made a low, throaty noise that she hoped sounded like sympathy. "I have the story about the arrest of Mayson's murderer," she said. "After I've finished at the subway, I'll come into the newsroom and write up both of them."

"Thank you," Perry said with evident relief. "Have you seen Clark?"

"Not since the police took him after they found the murder weapon."

"But he'll be released now?"

"I hope so."

"That's great," Perry said. "Bye, Lois."

He hung up, and Lois instructed the driver to change direction and take her to Northwood station.

Would Clark be there? He could have heard about the latest collapse when he was at the police station. Had he been released yet? She had so wanted to be there to share that moment with him.

As the cab drove through the busy streets, Lois sat back and unleashed the floodgates of her mind, freeing her maelstrom of Clark thoughts.

Henderson said Clark had been trying to protect her.

But Clark would try to protect anyone.

That was just Clark.

It didn't necessarily mean he loved her.

It didn't mean he loved her the way he had loved her before she had rejected him and accepted Luthor's proposal of marriage.

But he hadn't loved Mayson. And he didn't love Lana.

That seemed hopeful.

But perhaps she, Lois, had hurt him so deeply that he'd refused to allow himself to fall in love with anyone.

The cab pulled up at the train station. Lois paid the driver and got out, searching for the familiar figure of Clark Kent.

She couldn't see him.

With a sigh of regret, she went over to a group of rescue workers. "What's happening?" she asked.

"Superman came," was the bright reply. "He's already gotten two of them out, and we're expecting he'll be here any minutes with the third."

"Any injuries?"

"Nothing major. A broken ankle and a couple of scratches. It could have been a lot worse."

Lois took her pen and notepad from her bag. "Where were they trapped?"

"Near the front of the train. A section of the train gave way, and the tunnel came with it."

A woman took up the story. "Without Superman, it would have taken hours to get past the wreck to reach them. And the tunnel could have gone again."

As Lois watched, the familiar spandex-clad figure emerged from the station, carrying a middle-aged man. Superman took the victim to the ambulance and waited a moment, talking with the paramedics and the victim.

When he turned away, a cry rose from the gathered media. "Superman! Superman!" He strode over to where they were gathered, and Lois sprinted to join them.

They fired questions at him - about the condition of the victims, about the injuries, about what had caused the tunnel to give way, about the likelihood of it happening again. He answered all of their questions as he always had - simply, directly, and without undue emphasis on his part in the events.

The intensity of the questions dwindled, and with a nod, Superman turned to leave. Lois ducked around the reporters and went to his side. He turned to her. "Hello, Lois."

She looked around to check that no one could hear them. "Why didn't you tell the police you helped Clark look for Lana after Mayson Drake was killed?"

He looked as if her question had flummoxed him completely. "I ..."

"You knew Clark was going to be questioned by the police. He was deliberately evasive, trying to hide your part in this. If you'd been honest and told them you helped him look for Lana, he wouldn't have felt the need to dodge questions and this case could have been solved a lot sooner."

Superman's mouth fell open. Something in his dazed expression fired Lois's simmering annoyance. "What were you scared of?" she asked. "That it might hurt the great superhero's reputation to be linked to a murder? Or were you worried that Clark was going to be charged, and you just wanted to distance yourself from him?"

"Ah ..." His stumbling word ran aground.

"I can't believe you deserted your friend when he was in trouble," Lois said. "Clark tried to keep you out of it. But your only thought was for yourself."

"Lois, I ..."

"And to make matters worse, you went to Perry White and confused him so much, he thought you were warning him that *Clark* was likely to hurt me."

"No, I -"

"Clark needed you, and you were more interested in preserving your own reputation than helping a friend." Lois rammed home her point by poking his chest, above and to the left of his 'S'. It jolted her finger, which hurt, but it felt good to have expressed her frustration. "You might have saved a lot of lives in the tunnel, but when it comes to *real* friendship, you could learn a lot from Clark."

Lois turned and stormed away, feeling a measure of satisfaction that she had reduced him to speechlessness.

She looked around the crowd for Clark, but he wasn't there. Figuring he had probably left the police station by now, she caught a cab to the Daily Planet office.

__||~||__

Dressed again in his jeans and sweater, Clark walked numbly down the sidewalk, befogged by a cloud of confusion called Lois Lane.

He doubted he would ever fully understand her, but right now, he was so perplexed that no two thoughts seemed to fit together with any cohesion.

She'd told him she was wrong. He'd assumed she meant she was wrong about him not having killed Mayson. He hadn't been able to determine any basis for a change of mind - she'd said she was wrong *before* Wolfe and Henderson had come and arrested him on the strength of having found the murder weapon.

But when Clark searched his weary mind, he couldn't fathom what else she could have meant.

And then, there was his release from the cell. Wolfe had said that Lois had found Lana. His fears about what would happen if those two women came together had reared into panic until Wolfe had assured him that Lois was all right. Even so, when he'd emerged from the subway, he'd been immensely relieved to spot her in the crowd.

Had Lana tracked Lois? Found her? Threatened her? How had Lois escaped?

And then, tangling everything further was Lois's strange behaviour at the rescue site. For the first time ever, she'd seemed disappointed with Superman.

But her anger had seemed to stem from the belief that Superman had mistreated Clark.

Lois had berated Superman! In defence of Clark!

Yep, Clark decided. In the last twelve hours, the world had gone crazy.

He looked around, finally taking note of his whereabouts. He was a couple of blocks from the Planet office, although he hadn't consciously steered his feet in any direction.

Perhaps Lois was there. *That* felt normal - to deliberately or subconsciously seek out his partner and best friend.

If she were at her desk, what sort of a reception would he get? Was she, right now, writing up the story of Mayson's murder? And if she were, would she include any mention of Superman's part in it?

Would he, Clark, be able to convince her that public censure of Superman wouldn't serve any purpose?

It certainly wouldn't bring back Mayson.

He arrived at the doors of the Daily Planet building and went through the lobby to the elevator, his heart accelerating inside his chest. Perry and Jimmy must have heard that Clark Kent had been a suspect in Mayson's murder. Had Lois told them he hadn't done it? Did they have any lingering doubts about his innocence?

The elevator rattled upwards and stopped at his floor. The doors opened, and Clark stepped out. His head turned; his eyes sought.

Lois.

She was at her desk. As if responding to some sixth sense, she looked up from her computer screen, and their gazes met.

Around him, Clark was aware of the feeling of many eyes following him and the whisper of many tongues announcing his arrival, but he ignored them. Only one person's opinion mattered.

She rose and came towards him, her smile warm. When she reached him, her hand ran down his arms. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Just a bit dazed."

"Did Wolfe tell you why they let you go?"

"He said you'd found the murderer."

She turned, putting a little pressure on his elbow and guiding him down the stairs, into the bullpen, and to his desk. "I've finished the story about the second subway collapse," she said. "If I send it to you, can you check it for me?"

"I wasn't there."

She smiled before returning to her desk. "Would you read it, anyway?" she asked. "I'd appreciate your input."

Was there a particular reason she wanted him to read her work? Had she included something in her story that was going to be controversial? Something about Superman? Or was she just trying to ease him through these first few minutes back in the office? "OK." Clark turned on his computer and waited to log on.

His patience ran out before his computer was ready. He stood and went to Lois's desk. She looked up from her monitor and smiled again. He tried to smile in return, wishing his mental state were such that he could fully appreciate the palpable concern emanating from her.

"You OK?" she asked.

"Lois, what did you mean when you said you were wrong about me? Did you have doubts about my innocence?"

Her mouth fell a little. "No," she said. "No, of course not."

The fog of his mind wasn't getting any thinner. "Then what did you mean?"

She stood from her seat, and came closer to him, hitching her thigh on her desk. "I'm not sure here is the right place for this discussion," she said quietly. "I promise you we'll talk later."

Clark glanced around the bullpen and realised that most people were pretending not to watch them. "Please, Lois," he whispered desperately. "It's been such a confusing day. Could you just give me something? A hint? Anything?"

"Remember the day at Centennial Park?"

There had been many days at Centennial Park, but one was lodged forever in his memory. "Uh huh."

"I was wrong," she said.

"Wrong about me?"

"About you. About how I felt. About what I wanted."

Clark felt as if he were trying to capture wisps of smoke and hold them tightly in his hand. "Wh...what do you want?"

"I want to be with you."

"As friends?" he said cautiously.

"As friends." She found his eyes and lingered there, igniting him. "And so much more."

"More?" he uttered, not daring to hope.

"I was wrong about only loving you as a friend. I was wrong about not feeling that way about you."

The cloud of Clark's confusion solidified. "Ah ... " None of Superman's powers were useful in dragging something articulate from the congealed mass of his mind.

"You don't have to say anything," Lois said, her voice soft with understanding. "I don't expect anything from you. I know this has been an incredibly difficult day for you, and it's only natural that you're not going to want to deal with something like this now. I wish I hadn't spoken."

"You wish you hadn't told me?"

"Not then. Not now. My timing sucked."

He felt a hint of a smile begin, but he wasn't sure if it ever materialised. "You weren't to know the cops would turn up at exactly the wrong moment."

"While I was away last week, I had a lot of time to think. I decided I was going to tell you, but when I got back, everything was in turmoil. Then we got a quiet moment alone, and you said you weren't in love with Lana or Mayson, and the words just spurted out."

He could never have loved either woman. But Lois ... "If Wolfe and Henderson hadn't interrupted us, what would you have said?"

"That I wanted you to know how much I regret what I said that day."

"Do you regret it because you know it hurt me?"

She nodded. "I will always regret that I hurt you. But it's more than that. I got it so very wrong, and ..." Her voice trailed off.

Clark leaned forward, aligning their eyes. "And?" he prompted gently.

"And I wish I could go back and have that chance again."

The implications of what she was saying were too huge for him to grasp. "Does this have anything to do with Mayson being murdered?"

"No." Lois's hand inched along the desk, and her fingertips settled over his. "How about we get these stories written and get to some place where we can be alone and talk in private?"

That sounded like the best idea Clark had ever heard.

Lois squeezed his hand. "I'll send you my story about Mayson's murder as I write it," she said. "That way, we can work on it together."

"But ... but I don't what happened. Wolfe didn't tell me -"

"We'll get the stories written - that'll give you some detail - and then we'll go someplace quiet and I'll answer every question you have."

*Every* question? Do you love me? Is that what you're trying to tell me? That we have a chance?

But Lois had slipped back to her chair, her fingers hovering above the keyboard as her eyes skipped over her copy.

Clark turned back to his desk, forcing reluctant feet to walk away.

"Oh, Clark?" Her voice came from behind him, loud and clear.

He turned.

"I never believed for one second that you had hurt Mayson."

He didn't know whether her firm declaration was for his benefit or the benefit of the rest of the bullpen. "Thank you," he said, wanting his voice to be as loud and clear as hers, but finding it got lost somewhere in the ball of emotion that had risen up this throat.

She sent him a smile - full of everything he loved most about her ... and laced with something else, too.

His mind wasn't ready to believe it could be love.

But his heart was doing a celebratory dance around his ribcage.

He sat in his seat and opened his email account. Lois's story about the rescue of the three workers in the subway was there. He opened it and tried to force his attention to her words.

But mere words - even Lois's words - were not enough. He'd missed her so much. A whole week away from her ... and then hours of wondering if he would ever be with her again.

Then ... this.

I was wrong.

He had to connect with her again - even if it were the most mundane of connections. He rose from his seat and returned to her desk. She looked up at him expectantly, and he tensed, wondering if he'd annoyed her with his interruption. But her smile came, reassuring him. "Coffee?" he asked with as much nonchalance as he was able to muster.

"Sure. Thanks."

He pulled himself away from the lure of her lovely brown eyes and found his way to the coffee machine. He poured two coffees from habit, glad he didn't have to give the task any thought. He left one cup at his desk and went on to Lois's. She gave him another smile as he put her cup on her desk.

"Thanks, Clark."

He had so many questions. Questions about how she'd managed to convince Wolfe to release him. Questions about what had happened with Lana. Questions about her feelings. Questions about their future.

"Did you read the rescue story?" she asked.

"I needed coffee," he said with an apologetic shrug. "I wasn't finding it easy to concentrate."

"That's OK," she said. "Just read it through, and if you think it's OK, could you send it on to Perry?"

Clark returned to his desk, wondering how she would portray Superman's part in the rescue. The email contained no comment, just the attached file, which he opened. Her story was relatively short and contained mostly facts. The condition of the tunnel. The condition of the workers who had been trapped. The forecast for when parts of the subway could be re-opened. A quote from the chief engineer about the stability of the subway system.

He deleted a comma, added a missing 'to', and forwarded it to Perry.

He checked his email again, but nothing else had arrived from Lois. He opened a couple of other - unimportant - emails that had arrived since he'd left last night.

Jimmy came up to his desk. "Hi, CK," he said tentatively.

"Hi, Jimmy," Clark replied, his tone even.

"I was sorry to hear about Mayson Drake."

Did he actually mean he was sorry to hear that Clark had been accused of murdering her? "Thank you," Clark replied woodenly.

"I'm so glad it worked out in the end."

It hadn't worked out - either for Mayson or Lana - but Clark could see that the kid was uncomfortable, so he gave him a solemn smile and said, "Thanks, Jimmy."

"If you need anything ..."

"Thanks."

"Although Lois seems to have it all under control."

"Yeah. She's writing the story now."

"The Chief said he wants to see you in your office."

Clark's heart dropped as he rose from his seat. He didn't want to face more questions. He didn't want to talk about Mayson's death. He didn't want to be grilled about why it had taken him so long to front up at the police station.

He tapped on Perry's door and entered when the editor invited him in.

"Clark," Perry said. "Sit down. I got Lois's story about the follow-up rescue. It came from your account, but your name isn't in the by-line."

Clark felt a measure of relief that the question was so benign. "All I did was look over it for her," he said. "It's her story."

Perry nodded. "Now she's working on the story of the arrest in the Drake murder."

It hadn't been a question, but Clark answered anyway. "Yes."

"She's an amazing woman."

"Yes."

Perry tossed his pencil onto his desk and focussed his attention squarely on Clark. "That girl would not believe for one second that you had killed Mayson Drake," he said. "The case against you looked conclusive, but she just kept on saying that Clark Kent didn't kill and he didn't run away."

Clark swallowed, gulping loudly and hoping Perry wouldn't see that he'd had to blink quickly a couple of times to keep his emotions in check.

"She simply wouldn't accept it. She was in here, rolling her eyes and tapping her foot as if she was having to restrain herself from ramming the words back down my throat. I … ah …." If it had been anyone other than Perry, Clark would have thought the editor was trying hard not to squirm. "I … I'm glad things turned out the way they did … for you … and I'm sorry … Well, when you've been in this job as long as I have ..."

Clark nodded, unable to draft something appropriate from the blank of his mind.

Perry snapped back into Chief-mode. "Try to talk some common sense into Lois, will you?" he said briskly. "I've been trying for years and obviously, I've failed. Perhaps you will be more successful."

Clark doubted that. "I still don't know what she did that led to the arrest," he admitted.

Perry's sternness dissolved to an allusion of a smile. "I'm sure it will be in her story. You should get out there and see if she needs any help."

"Yes, sir." Clark stepped from Perry's office, his gaze snapping to Lois's desk as his mind rattled with unanswered questions and his heart expanded with love.

What had she risked in order to clear his name?

She'd never made a secret of the fact that she believed in Superman.

But after today ...

Perhaps she believed in Clark, too.

"I've just sent you the first part," Lois said as Clark approached his desk.

"OK. I'll look over it."

For the next half an hour, Clark read the incoming parts of Lois's story about Lana's arrest. Similar to the rescue story, it was mostly facts, briefly outlining how the deputy DA had been found dead, giving some details of the investigation, and finishing with the statement that a woman in her twenties had been arrested that morning. She'd reduced Clark Kent's involvement to being the owner of the apartment where the murder had taken place and a mutual friend of the two women.

But there was nothing that answered the questions burning in his mind. How had Lois proved Lana's guilt? How had Lois caused Lana's arrest?

According to Lois's story, her part didn't go beyond being he reporter.

When he reached the end of her story, Clark rose and went to her desk. She had the phone tucked against her ear, but she smiled up at him. "I'm just waiting for Henderson to come to the phone," she said. "I need to check a couple of facts and see if there are any further developments I can include."

"You didn't mention Lana's name."

"No. I said enough to kill the Star's story claiming you were the murderer, but I figured it might be easier on her family if they didn't find out via the media."

Clark tried to keep the surprise from his face.

Lois chuckled. "Usually you're the one thinking about everyone's feelings and I'm the one demanding we be brutally professional."

Clark could only nod.

"Perry's running an afternoon and an evening edition today on account of the subway collapse," Lois said. "This story can go in the afternoon edition, and we'll do a follow-up when things become clearer."

"OK."

"Did you read it?" Lois asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And it's a good story, but ..."

"But it didn't answer all of your questions?"

"It didn't really answer any of them."

She smiled at that. "That's why we're getting out of here as soon as I've sent this to Perry." She uncovered the phone, lurched to a straighter position in her chair, and picked up a pen. "Henderson?"

Clark returned to his desk and quickly skimmed through Lois's story again. He sent a copy, including a couple of minor edits, back to her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Lois there. "No further developments," she said. "They're still waiting for some forensic work - more fingerprinting and a gunshot residue test on the leather jacket. Everything is moving slowly with the subway out of action."

"Did he say how Lana is?"

"She's asked for a lawyer. She confirmed you weren't there when Mayson died, but then she got angry and refused to answer any more questions."

"But she's OK?"

"She said she was hungry."

"Did they give her something to eat?"

"Yes," Lois said, lightly squeezing his shoulder. "I asked specifically. Henderson also said they'd offered her a doctor's check, but she declined."

"I hope the baby is going to be all right," Clark said dolefully.

Lois's hand stayed on his shoulder, spreading lovely warmth down his arm. "It's not your responsibility," she said. "You didn't make Lana do what she did. You didn't -"

"I just feel as if there should have been a way to avert this whole senseless tragedy," Clark said.

Her smile felt like tangible comfort. "Did you make any changes to my story?"

"Just a couple of typos."

"Send it to Perry, and close down your computer. We're leaving."

"Did you OK it with Perry?" Clark asked. "It's not even midday yet."

"I didn't sleep at all last night, and I'm betting you didn't either. I haven't eaten today. I need food and rest. I told Perry we'll be back later to get him updates for the evening edition."

We. That one word was the embodiment of everything Clark yearned for. He submitted Lois's story and began shutting down his computer.

But as he waited, a vein of despondency seeped through his anticipation.

If there was to be anything between him and Lois - anything beyond being friends and partners - he had to tell her the truth.

He'd often worried that telling her Clark Kent was Superman would lower her opinion of Superman and provoke her annoyance with Clark. Now, it seemed possible that telling her could lower her opinion of Clark and cause her to be exasperated with both of them.

He wanted to be optimistic. He wanted to hope that this day would end with the way ahead becoming clearer for him and Lois.

But as much as he tried, he couldn't grasp solid perspective from the fog of confusion and bewilderment.

Lois had said she regretted her actions that day in Centennial Park. She'd strongly alluded to wanting more than friendship.

Clark willed his spirit to celebrate, but the gloom wouldn't shift.

There was one final hurdle. A *huge* hurdle. And Clark wasn't at all sure they would be able to overcome it.