TITLE: Supplemental Measures 2

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. Smallville and Buffy the Vampire Slayer aren't mine. In fact, not even the names Gough, Millar, or Whedon can be made from my name, in any way. The short of it is, if you recognize it, it aint mine.

Clark stood, nervously anticipating the arrival of his unexpected date. When he arrived to L.A. earlier in the day, hoping to investigate the symbol attached to the "Last Chance Dating Service", the Kryptonian letter equivalents of L, C, D, and S, arranged in block formation, he hadn't expected the slightly intimidating blond, and even more redhead to interrogate him.

They, he realized, spent an inordinate amount of time looking at his former attire, a black suit with the blue Kryptonian crest for the house of El situated in the center. Honestly, he only wore it because Chloe said it was his best suit.

Shaking himself lightly, Clark looked up at the now rapidly darkening sky. The smell of sweet, as-of-yet unfallen rain lingering in the air, and off in the distance, blackened skies. The winds had picked up very recently, and Clark was sure a thunderstorm of epic proportions was upon them.

"Excuse me," a voice startled him out of his contemplation. Clark looked at the woman that stood mid-chest on him, her stature ending around five-three. Her blond hair flowed down her back and the sides of her face, as green eyes stared at him, as if studying him. She was dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, with a black leather jacket on the side. He searched out for the symbol, and noticed an odd sensation in the back of his mind, as the letters rearranged themselves to spell, "date".

"Yes, are you Buffy?" Clark asked, and could have kicked himself. The woman, it seemed, looked amused. Her eyes met his, and Clark couldn't help but feel the unbridled power held in them, eyes that held far more than what they should, at her young age.

"Good to meet you, I'm Clark Kent."

"So that's mystery-man's name?" Buffy asked, "Willow and Anya wouldn't tell me what you're name was, only that if our friend Cordelia had still been around, you'd be the very definition of Salty-goodness."

Clark laughed lightly. "Thanks. I'm assuming that was a complement? Shall we?"

Buffy stood there, though Clark had his arm stretched out toward her, waiting for a responce. He stood still, his six-three frame suddenly rigid. Some instinct in him screamed at his mind, that he was being tested. She looked into his eyes, a fleeting though of the eyes being the windows to the soul passed over him briefly, and he dared not blink.

It was an unwelcome feeling, and Clark had too fight all of his six-three frame against lashing out. He bit the tip of his tongue, and kept his eyes staring at hers, waiting for her to make the first move.

She did, luckily, less than a minute later. Wrapping her arms around his, Clark could tell that Buffy had accepted his offer for what it was.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, but I've made reservations at La Costa de la Mar. It's a Mexican restaurant. I was hoping we could talk over dinner, and if you're up to it, a movie."

Buffy responded by squeezing his bicep.

"You were supposed to arrange for transportation?" she asked. Clark nodded. "Yeah, it's right here. It was my dad's. He died a little under two years ago."

He mounted the motorcycle, which was obviously well taken care of, if the sound of the engine was any indication. Buffy noticed him take his glasses off, wondering why he'd do that, when Clark said, "they're reading glasses. I've got perfect vision normally, but it's just become second nature to put them on when I'm going to read papers. I wore them earlier so you'd know it was me, since I know they gave you a description."

She accepted his answer to her silent question at face value. As the sound of the Harley-Davidson filled the air, Buffy tightened her grip around his waist and said, "well, are we going or not?"

The speed at which Clark took off insured her grip would be tight enough to crack ribs.

La Costa de la mar was one of Los Angeles' most exclusive restaurants. In order to get in, Buffy remembered, you'd either have to be someone, or know someone powerful enough, to even make it an inch in the door. The closer they pulled to the entrance, the colder Buffy was beginning to feel. She'd never been here, the Watcher's Council adamantly refusing to let her go on the premise that frivilous spending of funds couldn't go on her expenditure account.

And yet, Clark Kent, hadn't a problem getting in.

They approached the door, where the massive bouncer turned their way, his arms crossed. Buffy tried to move surreptiously in front of her tall date-for-the-evening, but was surprised when Clark said, "I've got reservations. Clark Kent."

The man looked down at his list, flipping through at a fast order and nodded, lifting the barrier and nudged his head. Clark, and Buffy, slipped in quietly, as the bouncer stepped in front, the flashing of cameras following the Slayer inside.

Buffy had, since meeting the tall male leading her in, struggled to figure him out. His waist was made of steel, making her enhanced Slayer strength pale in comparison. Yet, his arm, that she'd held not so long ago, was smooth. His eyes were warm, inviting, and yet had a reservation about them that she'd not seen in a long time.

His posture was one of a man confident in his abilities, yet his attitude was of someone afraid of his own skin.

In essence, he was a mystery. And yet, with all these marks, things that'd have a lesser man against the wall with a stake or axe running through them, against him, she felt safe. It was exciting.

The interior, she noticed, was a polar opposite from the outside. The walls were painted white, and each table was surrounded by a wall that, she was sure, was meant for total privacy. She felt the slight tingle of magic wash over her, as they got closer to the waiters podium, and was surprised to feel Clark shuffle uncomfortably against it, too.

"Welcome to La Costa de la Mar, name?"

"Clark Kent. This is my date, Buffy Summers."

"Ah yes, Mr. Kent. You're business associate called ahead and asked that I place a bottle of Spanish Wine on for you. How is Mr. Queen, if I may ask?"

Clark looked at him, the man having flipped a pad over the edge of his arm with code the Justice League, as they had started calling themselves, indicated that he was in the know.

"He's alright, in Albania actually. He's tracking a potential site for expansion."

As the man smiled, Clark quietly excused him and said, "we'll be ready to order in a few minutes, thank you."

The man nodded, walking out of the room as Clark smiled toward the blonde.

"You have friends in high places, Kent."

"You can say that again, my mother is United States Senator Martha Kent."

Buffy's eyes widened, as she had definately heard of the woman senator that was making waves with her policies. "Wow, I'm honored to be in your presence."

Clark blushed. "Don't be, mom's the one doing all the hard work. I'm here because it isn't planting season, and with her working there, the farm has had a few extra funds recently."

Buffy nodded. "Well, while we're on the subject, I guess I can tell you that I work for a privately run organization that caters in old, abscure languages."

"Oh, so that's why they're using Kewatche as their logo?" Clark asked, watching as she did a double take. Clark smiled, "don't worry, I'm the one that found the Kewatche Caves, I know all about the mystery surrounding them. I was intrigued though, when I realized they could read it."

Buffy frowned. "That's our job. Anyway, that's interesting. That makes you an expert on them right?"

Clark shrugged, "I'm sure if I asked, Joseph would definately say that I was. I'm not a tribesman, but I was as good as adopted in."

Buffy frowned, "wow. We're barely scratching the surface of the language. It's amazing to actually meet someone that can read it. I may have an offer for you in the future, if you're interested"

Clark shrugged. "Alright, moving this conversation away from work," he said, adding a grin for affect, "what do you do for fun?"

"I spar, train in martial arts. I help run a dojo that is sponsored by my company, and love to see the excitement in my girl's faces when they learn a new kata."

Clark nodded. "Yeah, my friend Oliver does something simular. He teaches archery, and has tried teaching me. Apparently, I'm a hopeless shot, which is interesting because I can throw a football through a swing-wheel at five hundred feet."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Wow. Well, I'm not a hopeless shot, it's different when you're used to exerting yourself. Archery is all about precision."

Clark smiled. As the waiter came back, she said, "well, I think I want one of those nice steaks and spanish rice."

"Carne asada y arroz de espanol?" the man asked. Clark nodded and said, "two, please."

The man nodded. And left. Clark smiled. "Wow, that's a conversation starter. You speak Spanish?"

"Yeah, a little. After college, I plan on travelling for a while. Decide what I want to do in life."

"What? You have money?"

Clark shook his head. "No, I'm a journalism major. It was actually my friend Chloe and her boyfriend Jimmy that noticed the Kewatche and said that I should check it out. Our experience has shown that the use of the language has some symbolic meaning that shouldn't be exposed, so we keep a lookout for it."

Buffy nodded, "ours too. So what, you're going to travel around the world and post in different papers? Like the Borneo Gazette?"

"Yeah, I can see my first headline now, 'Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko.'"

Buffy laughed. "Don't knock the Gecko's, they're mightily cute."

Clark looked at her. "Are you serious?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I went to Borneo once. It was nice."

"Cool. So, yeah, I figure I can head to Mexico first, and just head West from there. Hawaii sounds nice, visit the Volcanoes and take one of those helicopter rides."

"So, what do you do? I mean, what do you farm?"

"Dairy cows, eggs, hay. We breed horses, grain, corn. Actually, our farm is one of the biggest in the state of Kansas."

Buffy's hand stopped and Clark laughed. "That's the second time someone has reacted like that when I said that I was from Kansas."

Buffy smiled. "Sorry, we've had bad experiences in Kansas. We tried buying land there once, in a place called Smallville, when LuthorCorp ran us out with threats of takeover."

"That'd be Lex and Lionel no doubt. I know, they've tried buying the farm a couple of times. To think I actually saved Lex's life."

Buffy raised her head, realizing that she wasn't supposed to hear that last part. "You're that Kent Farm? The farm we tried buying?"

Clark's head rose, as he choked out a laugh. "What?"

"Well, your farm is the biggest in Lowell County, right?"

Clark nodded. Buffy frowned. "Yeah, we tried buying your farm, your father had sighed the papes and everything, but somehow he died and Lex had the papers declared null and void."

"You work for Rickman?"

"No, he ran the agency we worked through."

Clark frowned. "Oh. Something about him didn't sit well with me. I have this habit of jumping to conclusions."

Buffy laughed. "Me too, don't worry about it. It'd be hypocritical to hold that against you."

As their food arrived, Clark picked up his napkin, tucking it into his leather jacket, and smiled at Buffy, who immitated him for the amusement it provided.

They ate in silence, each trying to explore the other surreptiously. Buffy would sneak a glance, every few minutes, and look down, only for Clark to return the favor.

"So," she asked a few minutes in, "you're the Clark Kent that went all-state, won a full scholarship at Met-U for football, and declined it? Why?"

Clark choked on his food this time, and his face turned red. "To be honest, I'm a lot stronger and faster than most people. I restricted my movements, and lost and won with the team, but at any time, I could have thrown a football field length pass and connected with my target's chest."

Clark's face paled significantly. Buffy's eyes widened, and she said, "shit."

"Yeah, I'm guessing that was a truth spell earlier."

Buffy nodded. "Sorry, I didn't know." he added.

"It's fine, we'll just um... restrict questions to non-personal, alright?"

Clark nodded. "Good, though I can wonder about your confessional right?"

Clark laughed. "Yeah. Anyway. You said Buffy Summers? I hope you don't mind, I did a little digging to find more about you earlier. Did you really score a fifteen ninety on your S.A.Ts and turn down the dozen proposals from Ivy Leagues?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Clark, realizing it was probably personal said, "that's cool. I made a fifteen eighty myself, but I have an editic memory."

"Ah, cool." she said, "no, I just have good instincts. I'm smart at some things, and others come naturally to me."

As they finished their meal, served with the expensive wine, Clark said, "would you like to dance?"

The music level in the room rose significantly in preparation to her response. Buffy nodded, her hand grasping his. Clark watched as the table they were using disappeared, and said, "right, magic. I won't even ask."

"It's a lot to take in," Buffy admitted. The song they were playing was, obviously, classical with a modern twist. It was Bethoven's 5th, played at a faster tempo. Buffy seemed to enjoy it, though Clark had to admit with friends like Lex, his love of the classics had diminished somewhat.

They swayed to the music, using a slightly upbeat version of a ballroom dance that Clark had been taught by his mother. Buffy was wrapped in the music, and he could hear her heartbeat, which was going at a slightly elevated seventy-five beats. Clark smiled, a sweet scent filling their enclosed area.

As the song ended, and another, "Truly, Madly, Deeply" came on, Clark felt the woman in his arms draw close.

It was truly too intimate, considering this was only their first date, but he could live with it, if she could.

They stayed like that for about an hour, matching tempo and beat with the movements of their bodies. She, he realized with a start, was truly good at what she did. She had a coordination that Clark found admirable, and he couldn't help but find it a bit innocent, yet passionate.

They ended the date, Clark paying cash, surprising both her and the waiter. "So, how about that movie?"

She searched him again, and said, "better yet, coffee and desert, then you can take me home."

Clark simply smiled and said, "alright."

She frowned, "no choke, no stutter?"

"I'm not as gutter-minded as most people, if you had meant what you assumed I would think, than you'd have said it differently. Coffee and desert sound fine, by the way."

"You did good, Kent. You passed the second test tonight. Most people would have jumped on the oppurtunity that I wasn't providing, by the way."

"That's alright," Clark said, "so, what kind of desert did you have in mind?"

"Cheesecake, strawberry preferably."

Clark smiled. "There's this deli about three blocks from where I picked you up, but I do feel the need to point out that it's only a block from the apartment I'm staying at."

"Oh?" she asked. Clark nodded, handing her a helmet and kicking the engine. "Well, take me, farmboy."

Clark smiled, and merely grunted as her arms tightened around her for the second time.

They sped past all the traffic lights, which she noticed were always green. She'd never had this good of luck on the streets of L.A. Clark, she noticed, seemed to know where he was going instinctively. As they turned the tight corner of Fifth and Hazelnut, Buffy clutched onto him, waiting to move her body between his and the ground, as Clark righted them both in a speed she hadn't seen displayed before.

They came to a stop outside "Speedy Delivery", where a blond, spiky haired kid in a red jumper was on the phone inside. He waved at Clark, who said, "that's Bart. He's one of Oliver and mine associates."

She smiled. "That's cool. He's... dedicated."

Clark laughed. The deli was small, with a sign that showed it was open 24 Hours. Clark pushed open, where a black guy dressed in loose clothing was smiling. "Victor," he said, "this is Buffy Summers. Victor opened this place about six months, and every time I'm in L.A. on business, I come here at least five times."

"Yeah, and eats me out of house and home, Kent."

Clark looked mollified and said, "fine, we'll go somehere my business is appreciated.

Buffy simply slapped him in the head. Clark laughed.

"Vic, she wanted to sample the super-cake."

Victor smiled and said, "be back in a sec, then."

And he was, with a twenty slice cheesecake that had been cut with a pie-knife it seemed. She looked at Clark, and said, "well?"

Clark laughed, picking up two forks and said, "to be honest, he got this recipe from my mom. He just won't admit it. I have it, and the apple pie, whenever I come here."

"I did not Kent!" the man yelled. Clark laughed. She liked his laugh, she realized.

For the next two hours, the two of them, occassionally joined by Victor, finished off the large cheesecake, with the few pieces left over wrapped in aluminum foil for posterity.

Clark, she noticed, was looking at her funnily, but in a good way.

"Thanks," Clark said, slipping Victor the payment. "Anytime Kent."

As they left, Clark said, "well, Miss Summers, should I drop you at the LuthorCorp building, or get directions to your front step? Each has serious repercussions attached, so I'd think carefully."

Buffy simply smiled, and said, "take me home, farmboy."

Clark smiled, and said, "and where is that, exactly?"

Buffy blushed and whispered, "about one block left."

Clark laughed and said, "you've got to be kidding me?"

She shook her head, and, as they climbed his motorcycle for the third time that night, Clark said, "well, this was the best date I've ever had, to be honest."

"Me too," she whispered.

As they turned the corner to the Hyperion, Buffy couldn't help but smile.