He found her in the meadows on the edge of the hill overlooking the farm. She was sitting amongst the red phlox her knees pulled up tight to her chest, her jeans and cherry tee inadequate cover against the cool morning air. The sun was just rising and its light slanted across the side of her face making her hair shine like winter wheat and lending to her person an unexpected softness. She was watching a hummingbird whir from flower to flower and hadn’t seen him yet, although he was only a few feet away and had made plenty of noise earlier when he first stepped outside intent on chores.

“Morning Lois, I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen you sit still. I’m impressed, but what are you doing—“

“--here? I don’t think you really want to know Smallville.” She glanced at him with sympathetic condensation, then immediately took to twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “Actually, I take that back. You probably do want to know. You’ll probably be thrilled.” She heaved a sigh and looked away in the distance towards the sky’s waking colors.

Both annoyed and intrigued, Clark sat down by her and draped his jean jacket over her shoulders. “Let me guess, you’re running away with the circus. The man on the flying trapeze swept you off your feet and landed you a job watering elephants.”

“No, not exactly. It’s more like I’ve been asked to be the sharp shooter’s assistant. Apparently, breaking hearts is a real show stopper and someone thinks he can put a few more holes in mine.” Lois abandoned her hair to put her arms through Clark’s jacket. Still not warm, she clasped her hands around her legs hugging herself. She looked rosy and vulnerable and altogether touchable in that light. Not for the first time, Clark had to shove back the memory of her kiss, the taste, the scent, the yielding of her soft body into his, in a phone booth, at the base of a clock. Heat suffused his face and he had to look away. She had no memory of it. It had been a trick of red kryptonite, a knock-out love potion number 9. And he was the one suffering for it; because despite how wrong it was, a big part of him wanted more.

“Clark, did you hear me?” She freed him from his thoughts snapping him back to the present with a question.

“No. Yeah. I mean—“

She didn’t wait for an explanation, now that she had his full attention. “I said Oliver’s back. He stopped by the loft. He said he had some loose ends to tie up in town and then he’s leaving for good. Only this time…he wants me to come with him.”

“You told him where to shove it, right?” Blind rage was not the reaction Clark expected from himself. But it was there, inside him, visceral and overpowering much like the unwanted memories. He didn’t like the hurt voice she used to tell him. He didn’t like conflict he saw in her eyes. And the thought of Oliver Queen, alias ‘The Green Arrow’, cozying up to Lois again only to put her life in danger and make her miserable while taking her away from friends and family made him want to hit something or better yet someone, someone with a tacky hood and voice changer specifically. Unconsciously, he started to pick up small stones, crushing them in his hands. “Right?” He reiterated, insistent where she remained silent.

“I told him I had to think about it.” She finally answered, then “don’t look at me like that. I know, O.K. It’s just no one’s ever made me feel the way he does before.”

‘Really,’ he wanted to shout, ‘because I think I did and a whole lot more a few months ago.’ Instead he said, “What? Like a puppet on a string?”

Angry now, eyes flashing damnation, Lois rose to her feet, tore off his jacket and threw it at the ground stomping up the hill with the condemnation of, “Why did I expect you to understand. You break up with people for no apparent reason.”

“Lois wait.” Clark chased after her grabbing her hand, “that’s not fair.”

“Yes it is. You loved Lana, who happens to be perfect, and miracle of all miracles she loved you back. Then you dump her like yesterday’s days news. Why? You don’t know because ever since then all you do is moon after her like some little lost puppy. What is your problem?” Livid, she practically screamed at him, her voice cracking at the end of her speech. Trembling, she was on the verge of tears. Seeing her thus, Clark’s fury died.

“This isn’t about me and Lana.” He said squeezing her hand.

“You abandoned her. She would have followed you anywhere. And you just left.” She retaliated in a quiet voice, a few fat tears sliding down her face until she noticed and viscously swiped them away. She dropped his hand and turned her back. “I’m not crying. I’m just angry—at you.” She said.

“Listen.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I broke up with Lana because we weren’t right for each other, because I didn’t want to keep on hurting her. I can’t tell you why Oliver left, or why he’s back, or what you should do. But I can tell you that I don’t want you to go because I’d…” He almost choked on the next words, “miss you.”

She faced him, incredulous, and punched him lightly. “I almost believe that.”

“It’s the truth. The world without Lois would be like a picnic with—“

“No ants?” She finished.

“I was going to say lemonade.” He put his jacket back on over her shoulders and smiled. The sun had turned the sky with its wispy clouds into a faceted sea of color, various shades of gold and red merging with one another as the light brightened. She smiled back at him.

Then she looked down, steeling herself before looking up again. “Fine. Your right, this has nothing to do with you or Lana. It’s Oliver. He’s the one I’m mad at. He left me and now he wants me to give up the first real home I’ve had in a long time. Life with the General was always one town after the next. Duty came first, sacrifice. It wasn’t important that I had to leave best friend after best friend behind. So like a good soldier, I learned how to make good acquaintances. I got to know a lot of people, but they never really knew me. And for a while that was ok because I had mom and Lucy to share the important things with.”

“Until your mom died and Lucy was sent to boarding school.” He prompted when she trailed off.

“Yeah, and I know it’s not their fault and I know it’s not my fault, but everybody leaves me or I leave them. I promised myself that when I got out on my own I’d never let another man cart me around the way my father did. I’d have a home, roots, a family. I’d be my own person. And I’ve done it. I have a home here, a career. I have you, Chloe, Mrs. K, Lana, maybe even Jimmy—you’re my family now.”

He was afraid to say anything. The wind and the sun were doing interesting things to her hair blowing it across her face in gold flecked tendrils that played at hiding and revealing. He could handle brassy, bossy Lois so much easier, as used to her as he was. But to see her honest and open like this…maybe a trace of red kryptonite was left in his blood because it was all he could do to keep from pressing into her, letting his hands roam free. He wanted to smell her hair, caress her skin, kiss her mouth, use his body to express the feelings he had no name for yet. It wasn’t lost on him that she claimed him family or what it implied. He settled for taking her hand, smooth and soft and cool. When she didn’t withdraw, he led her to the rest of her story. “But?”

“I love Oliver. It’s like he opened this door in my heart that I can’t close. It felt so good to be loved; I don’t know, to be known. How do you close that door Clark? I don’t trust him. I know he loves me, but he’s holding back, even now. So I want to go. I want to stay.”

“Lois, I’m not the one you should be telling this to.” Clark answered, certain that a little red-k infected him yet. He shouldn’t be the only one tortured with memories, complicated with emotion.

“Why?” She asked, completely taken by surprise when he replied by pulling her into his arms and kissing her, his mouth so soft, sweet, and demanding all at the same time that she surrendered to it, to his tongue, his taste, the heat that swept through her body in rush after icy-hot rush. She forgot to think, kissing him back as she was, building into the flow of the giving and taking with her own ardent rhythm. She didn’t know how they parted. She still couldn’t seem to think when he leaned in and whispered, “Because even though we’re family, I’m not your brother.”

Clark couldn’t contain his smile as he walked down the hill towards the farmhouse leaving a very dazed and confused Lois behind. “Come down to the house, Mom’s making pancakes for breakfast,” he called, “You’ll think better on a full stomach.”

“You’re a real jerk, you know that Smallville.” Lois hollered from behind. His smile grew tenfold. A hostile, belligerent Lois, that he could handle.