Lois was trying to concentrate on the pastor delivering his sermon over the open grave but instead she was thinking about Clark Kent. Everywhere she went this week, someone wanted to talk to her about him. That very morning the bagel girl had been trying to pry information about his dating life from her as she gave her her change. She'd almost laughed in the poor girl's face, the idea of her and Clark was so far-fetched. For a start, he hadn't dated in over six months. And secondly, she had over fifty piercings, and those were the ones that she could see. The thought of those two locking lips brought out a small smile, which she quickly dropped as she looked down at the coffin.

Thinking about the man who was being buried today was too painful to bear. Though the doctors had pronounced he was terminal six months ago, the final fact of his death was hard to understand. He'd taught her so much about the job, taught her so much about what a true reporter was. And his mind was still sometimes sharp, even when they had upped his medication in the final weeks; she could still see the piercing look that told her she was talking out of her behind emerge from behind the fog.

So when she'd been sitting by his bedside in the hospice on Monday, and she'd been moaning, again, about Smallville, and he had given her that look, she hadn't understood.

"Y…you…" Maurie paused and took a rattling breath. The radiotherapy had damaged his throat but he could still get out short sentences. "Always been wrong."

"Such a sweetheart," she said sarcastically as she ate some of the grapes she'd brought him. "Are you thinking of anything in particular?" Above all, she knew he didn't want her treating him as if he was dying. He wanted the same old routine from her and it was easy to acquiesce, she didn't know how to deal with watching his body fail slowly. She couldn't watch him die, not from the same thing as her Mom. Just being in the hospice was too much reality for her. Sometimes she wondered if she was a bigger coward now than she had been when she was a kid.

The answer was always a yes.

"Kent." His lips jerked into a half-smile. "He was always. Always…" he took a deep breath. "Your biggest story."

Lois looked over to the subject of that mystifying comment. His mouth was pressed into a tight line, his expression thoughtful as he studied the floral tributes gathered around the graveside. He was wearing a black overcoat to keep the rain ruining his suit but he had loaned his umbrella to the middle-aged couple next to him. He'd probably forget to ask for it back and she'd have to share her own with him for the rest of the day. His hair was drenched, and he had to brush it back from his face with one hand.

But that was Smallville all over, little acts of kindness with no thought for himself. He was utterly clueless. He looked over at her as if he felt her gaze on him and smiled.

That smile always messed with her. It was so tender, so gentle, that she didn't know where to look, or what to think. When he smiled that way, it took her back to their brief and disastrous attempt at dating over two years ago. Back then, he had had the power to unravel her completely with one look. He had never realised the kind of effect he had had on her, and she was thankful for that. If things had gone too far, how would they ever have been able to work together as kind-of-friends again?

Now they had the kind of partnership she wouldn't have thought possible. They were a fantastic team, stronger together than they were apart. The stories they had broken in the last 18 months had been some of the biggest in the country, let alone Metropolis. Maybe once she had daydreamed he was the man to make her romantic fantasies come true, but now she saw he was the person who could help make her professional dreams a reality.

Then there had been Theresa. Theresa had called her yesterday because she was visiting friends in the States before flying back to Geneva. Theresa was not only a brilliant, beautiful woman who had dedicated her life to working on vaccine delivery for the U.N., she was also one of Smallville's exes.

Initially Lois had hated Terry. She was brusque, opinionated and talked to Clark like he was a complete idiot. But he had seemed keen that the two women spend some time together and she didn't have it in her heart to refuse a serious request from her best friend. Hanging out in bars and restaurants with her while Clark disappeared to return a late DVD rental or pick up his dry-cleaning, she discovered she rather liked the woman. She had flipped out at Smallville when he had broken up with her and immediately called Terry to reassure her that her idiot partner was only suffering a brief meltdown and would come to his senses imminently. He hadn't, and Clark had led one of the best things to happen to him since he got off the farm walk out of his life.

But the two women had kept in touch and Lois had been pleased to catch up with her over cocktails. But towards the end of the evening, she had said something completely off the wall to the reporter.

"I think Clark is the biggest liar I ever met."

But then for such an ordinary guy, he could sometimes evoke the strangest reactions.

Like that man who had been writing to her every week for three months. At first he'd been writing to tell her he had finally cracked the secret of the grassy knoll. Then he'd started saying he knew how Dark Thursday had happened, and why the Freemasons were incontrovertibly behind it all. But in the last two weeks he'd been dropping strange hints about Clark. Talking about his 'secret' and how he wasn't who she thought he was.

Lois had laughed and held up the latest letter but Clark had just pushed his glasses up his nose and peered more closely at the letter. He had frowned.

"Well? Can you believe this guy? What's he going to come up with next?"

"I think this is my fault." Clark sighed and rubbed his jaw. He had been tired this week, running all over town trying to find a pattern in a series of apparently random killings. "I went to see him a few days ago."

"What?"

"I was worried about his fixation with you Lois," he said seriously. Lois laughed.

"Are you kidding? I hate to say it Smallville, but this is the tamest kind of letter I get. Now if you want to see my dangerous crazies file, you're more than welcome. But this guy is totally harmless. For a start he didn't send me a picture of himself in the raw and he didn't write in his own blood, so he's not got any of my red flags." She paused and tapped her pen on her notebook, using one of her many tactics to annoy him and disrupt his usually calm exterior. She knew she shouldn't enjoy winding him up so much but it was a habit she was unable to give up. Maybe it wasn't the most adult behaviour but she'd been tormenting the guy since he was shovelling cow dung in his plaid shirts, some things were too much fun to grow out of. "What's going on?"

"It's these murders Lois. They have something to do with Superman and you know it."

"No, we suspect it, we don't know it."

"I know it," he affirmed. "And you are a very visible target when it comes to him." Lois rolled her eyes and groaned at him. They had had this discussion so many times that it stopped being an argument and was reduced to an endless rehashing of the same stale points. He thought she was at risk by being Superman's favourite reporter. She thought he was being a mother hen. He said that whilst Superman was almost invulnerable, she had proved not to be. She said, no one had managed to kill her yet. That always shut him up because he would look anguished and she would change the subject. She'd had some close calls over the years, especially the day she had broken up with him. Neither of them wanted to be reminded of that day. She had concreted over that painful time like it had never happened.

The conspiracy nut had sent her three letters today. All with the same message printed in big black letters. CLARK KENT HAS A SECRET. Well, fair enough, maybe he did, but not anything for the front page. Whatever secrets Smallville had, they were the kind every man on the street had. She had long ago abandoned the illusion that he had some skeleton in his closet. The only mystery about him was why he hadn't settled down with any of the perfectly acceptable women who crossed his path. She'd even tried to set him up, which has always been an unequivocal disaster.

But then being single and a reporter wasn't so unusual. She was single. Maurie had been divorced. Maybe she and Clark would end up like Maurie, one hell of a scrapbook of stories, and only a handful of meaningful relationships. Once the idea would have horrified her but now she was beginning to accept it might be inevitable. Her career left so little time for a personal life, and the latest casualty to her job, sweet, decent, totally hot stock broker Jake Valasquez was just another sacrifice she had made. In the end, if it had been a choice between covering a story on Superman saving the lives of a dozen miners trapped in a cave-in in Kentucky, or attending his parent's silver wedding anniversary dinner, the choice had been disturbingly easy.

Maurie understood that. So did Clark. But now Maurie was gone, and maybe someday, Clark would do the sensible thing and marry a paediatrician or a teacher with big brown eyes and a strong urge to bear him a whole clan of little Kents. If he could get through the first date without running off to check his oven was off.

Funeral proceedings were beginning to wind up and several people stepped forward to drop earth on top of the coffin. Lois pulled out the packet of cigarettes from her pocket and let them fall from her hand. She saw a few disgusted glances thrown her away but she ignored them. It was pretty tasteless given his smoking had probably contributed significantly to his death but he'd asked her for this favour before he'd died and she wasn't about to refuse him that small favour. He'd wanted to take at least one of his vices with him he'd said, and a bottle of Jacks would have been a waste. Maurie really had been a one-off.

As everyone began to disperse back to their cars, she exchanged a few nods with colleagues and gave a quick wave to Perry. Clark came up beside her and she covered his head with her umbrella.

"He ask for the cigarettes?" Clark smiled. Lois nodded. His smile faded and he touched her arm gently. "He was very proud of you, you know."

Lois found herself unexpectedly welling up. She thought she wouldn't shed a tear today but somehow Smallville managed to unlock the grief waiting in the wings. She swallowed hard.

"You think?" She wanted to say something breezy and light but she hadn't been able to get it out.

"I know," and he looked at her with an intensity he rarely employed. "My Dad used to talk about you the same way." God, he really was trying to make her cry. She brushed her eyes quickly and then looked back at him.

"Thank you Clark." The breeze picked up and the rain started to come in under their cover. She could almost see Jimmy's grave from here and suddenly she needed to get away from this place. "How about I drive us back? You came in a taxi right?"

"That would be good, thanks." They walked in silence further down the main access road until they reached her car, Clark offering to drive. She considered one of her usual responses to his offer to drive but decided to acquiesce. She didn't want to have to concentrate on anything right now, and Smallville's old lady driving would give her time to collect herself before getting back to the office. Once they were settled in the car, Clark turned on the radio to a quiet background hum. When they were in the car together they usually listened to the news, just to make sure there wasn't something unfolding they needed to respond to urgently. The newscaster was going over local news, and running through the facts about the latest body found that seemed to be the work of the same killer or killers. Police were refusing to confirm a serial killer was at work and would only admit they were investigating 'several avenues'.

Clark hadn't spoken about the most recent death yet but he'd been following the murders from the beginning. Usually he stayed away from Superman-related stories but as she'd been out of the office a lot visiting Maurie, Perry had assigned him to the story.

She glanced over at him as he calmly navigated his way through traffic that usually had her cursing the driver's mothers. With his hair swept away from face and his keen eyes focussed on the road, he suddenly reminded her very strongly of someone. She frowned as she tried to work out who it was, and finally concluded it had to be Jonathan Kent. It wasn't until the weatherman finished his predictions for the weekend that she realised Clark took after his father in many ways not not in his looks. How could she have forgotten he was adopted?

She yawned and closed her eyes.

Just like Superman had been adopted. After all these years, she had finally found something that the two men had in commonl.

And with that thought, she fell asleep.