Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
"You sound surprised."
Her voice was soft, but it was a confirmation that he wasn't dreaming. She was really here, right in his bed, right in his arms. And she'd just...
He dragged his mind away from thoughts of what she'd just done to him, and focused on her words. "Uh," he said. "Well, I sort of, um, thought I was dreaming..."
"Oh, my God." She sat up in bed and stared at him. In the faint starlight from the window he could see the horror-stricken look on her face. "I thought you were awake, Clark. I never would have--"
"It's okay," he assured her. "I didn't mind. I mean, I liked it. I mean... uh..."
"Oh, my God." She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so, so sorry. I thought... I thought we were both on the same page here..."
"We are." Desperate to make her understand, he sat up too, and reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I mean, we seem to be. Although I don't understand... I mean, I didn't think you cared about me... we haven't talked in months..."
"The way you look at me." Her voice was very low. "You keep looking at me, and you look so sad. So lonely. I've tried to stay mad at you, Clark. I've tried to keep my distance. But tonight... I just couldn't do it any more."
He squeezed her shoulder. "I'm glad."
"But you didn't even want to do it." Her voice was hoarse with self-reproach. "You thought it was a dream."
"Chlo..." He paused and thought very carefully about his next words, knowing they might mean the difference between keeping her and losing her. "I think I knew it was more than a dream. I just didn't dare believe it. I've wanted you so long... I've waited so long for you to forgive me... and I just couldn't believe it was really you."
She lifted her head and gazed at him. In the starlight, he could see the glint of golden hair and amber eyes and pale, perfect skin-- a faint outline of the woman he loved more than anyone else on the planet.
"I don't know why I came tonight," she said, her voice soft and reflective. "I just... I got to looking through some old yearbooks, and there were all these photos of us at the Torch. Back then, we looked so happy. Back then, things were uncomplicated."
He looked steadily back at her. "Maybe things don't need to be quite as complicated as we make them."
"Maybe not. But after you just walked out on me the day Jimmy was buried--"
"I'm sorry," he said swiftly. "I've been trying to apologize for months, but you haven't wanted to listen. Not that I blame you. I screwed up, Chlo. I screwed up hugely. I should have been there for you, and I wasn't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"And I'm sorry," she said gently, "that you ever felt like you had to tell me Clark Kent was dead. I know you were upset by what happened, Clark. But I can't imagine a world without Clark Kent in it. My Clark Kent. My emo, angsty farmboy, not some emotionless robot."
He sighed. "When I let myself be ruled by my emotions, I make so many mistakes, Chlo..."
"We all make mistakes." Her hand found his, and her fingers wrapped around his. "I like you the way you've always been. There's nothing wrong with letting yourself have emotions, Clark. Logic and emotions are not mutually exclusive things. You might need to learn to think things through a little better, but that doesn't mean declaring yourself an emotion-free zone."
"Yeah," he answered. "I think I get that now."
"Good." Her fingers tightened on his. "And I owe you an apology, too. I knew you wanted to talk, but I wouldn't listen. For the sake of our friendship, I should have."
"It's okay, Chlo. You had every right to be mad."
In the dim light, he saw her flashing smile. "I think I'm over it now."
"You know, I kind of guessed that." He let his voice get more serious. "I love you, Chloe."
"Yeah," she answered. "I love you, too. I realized that this evening, while I was looking through those yearbooks. After everything we've been through together, after everything we've shared... I can't stop loving you, no matter what. I guess that's why I'm here."
His heart swelled with gratitude. After what he'd done to her, the way he'd hurt her... she still loved him.
"I'm glad you're here," he told her. "I've been waiting and hoping. And dreaming."
She let go of him and lifted her hands, flattening her palms against his chest. Even in the darkness he could see a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Now that you're really awake, and now that we've talked a little, maybe we can get back to what I came over here for."
He let her push him back to the mattress and grinned up at her. "What exactly might that be, Chlo?"
"Hot sex. Hours and hours of hot sex."
His grin broadened. "I've been dreaming about this for months," he said happily, wrapping his arms around her.
"Me too." Her mouth brushed over his. "Let's find out if it lives up to our dreams."