The second chapter is up! Thank you to all those that reviewed, here's your heart's desire. It only gets better and better for Lana and Clark .......what else will they do besides flying? Oh all that marvelous tension.....

disclaimer: I don't own nothin' but the story line and writing.

The Flight, Pt. 2

It was a big mistake. Taking her out flying, that is. It's just that I can't really be sorry for it, because every time I try, all I can remember is the way her arms coiled around me, the slender flexibility of her body against mine, lithe yet strong, and the way her hair floated around her head as though she were underwater. The silky strands brushed against my face as we rose higher, melting into the moonlit blackness and letting all hurt evaporate below us, falling under the clouds; the stars were filming us with their brightness, and I wanted to shoot up and touch one, but I knew she could not have held on.

When you go close to a star, you realize it's just a piece of burning rock; you can't touch it, or make a wish on it. All it's beauty and idealism is lost, and disillusionment sets in. But the minor disappointment is overshadowed by a beauty so great that nothing can compare; the blue tranquility of the planets floating, the sharp jeweled rings of Jupiter, the auras and auroras of the vast glimmering universe floating in iridescent trembling colors.......she's like a far away planet, the murmuring muted colors of the universe shimmering in her eyes, far away, unreachable, only an idea you can wish on........

It's late, and I should be downstairs doing my assignments instead of out here watching the stars from far away. But I can't concentrate and I can't focus, and I don't know what to do; I think I screwed up seriously. Not that she'd tell someone, but this changes the dynamics of our relationship drastically. I wouldn't wonder if she'd be too scared to talk to me again...

"Clark?"

The voice sends an avalanche of chills down my spine; I whirl around to face.....her....

Hesitantly, she moves forward, almost awkwardly. I've never seen Lana Lang awkward before.

"I, uh, came to talk about.....what..."

"I'm sorry, look, I didn't mean to, you think I'm a freak or it was a dream or you were hallucinating, I didn't mean to-"

"It's your secret, isn't it."

Silence lay stunned between us, and I lifted my eyebrows trying to get my breath back.

"What do you mean?" I managed to reply.

"I felt you." she responded, wandering around, looking through the telescope casually. "I knew you were different, that you had a secret. Clark, the secretive. Yeah, that's you." she replied, sounding a little wistful.

"Sometimes I wished you'd let me in on your secret, then, maybe we could really be friends, you know?" she continued, giving me a hesitant and slightly sad smile.

Friends. The word shot me through, and I felt it's bitter sweetness.

"Yeah," I replied dumbly, too strained to process much. Warming up, I looked at her as she gracefully plopped down on a haybale. Only Lana could achieve something like that. "Did you really?"

She smiled, and nodded, warming me.

"There's always a mystery about you, and I always though it'd be kinda cool to just share something with someone, you know? Me and you could, wrestle and joke around and talk about crap for hours on end and do all that stuff that real friends do, like you do with Chloe." Sighing, she got up and started wandering again. "But no one sees me that way. Either they want me, or they want to be me. Neither is very comforting."

"What about Whitney?" I blurted out and regretted it one second later.

The uncomfortable silence that lay there spoke volumes. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad....

"I don't know," she said. "Sometimes, I think I do. But I don't." she said softly, her eyes piercing me.

We sat there for a little while sharing just un-communicated thoughts, warm in our new quiet.

"So now you know," I looked at her and smiled. "Do we get to do the joking and wrestling?"

She grinned, and it held a trace of shyness within it.

"You mean it?"

No! My heart screamed out. I want you to need me! but my mind knew much better.

"Sure. Any questions are welcome by the way....."

"Good," she laughed, a little relieved. "Cause I have a lot."

I remember it being close to midnight when she smiled at me, her gorgeous eyes hazy with slumber, and disappeared over the bend in the hill; I snuck back into the house, our long conversation flitting in and out of my desperate attempt to hold it. When I climbed in bed, I tried to replay it all from the beggining to end, but it had been too long for me to remember it all. I remember falling asleep, still clutching a dream caught phrase.......

"Up late last night?" were my father's first cautious words over breakfast.

I smiled at him wide and warm, choosing not to answer.

And he chose not to question. Giving me a serious look that I knew meant "long conversation" later, he let the door slam shut behind him as he made his way to the fields. My unassuming mother ruffled my hair and threw me a pop-tart, and I shouldered my bag and marched out to the bus stop, replaying the last night's events in my head.

We had talked; like real friends do, about this or that or everything, flying from one inconsequential subject to the next, laughing, joking, kidding around and making fun. The silences became friendly instead of tense, and quietly we dug our way into each other's past, each other's dreams, each other's futures. There was a complexity to Lana I had not expected or seen. She was secretive about things I couldn't begin to imagine, and together we reveled in the quiet privacy of being different together.

"Hey friend," was the first cheery phrase out of Chloe's mouth.

"How are you friend," I replied, smiling at our old inside joke.

"Tried to call you last night, dad said something about you being out. No more of those crazy 'hanging in the field tied up' stuff. You know you're not supposed to do that on school nights."

I grinned. " I was out in the cornfield contemplating suicide at your lack of caring."

She rolled her eyes.

"More like up in your fortress mooning over a certain Lana. I won't say which one." she said, a picture of innocence.

"Har Har, like we have so many Lana's in Smallville. I appreciate your unsubtle try at subtlety."

"You should. You're the only person I ever really am considerate towards. How can I help it? You did kinda save my ass from the guy who was out to suck my body heat." she sighed.

I laughed. "That'll teach you to go for football players." I replied cockily, earning a fierce punch I didn't even feel.

Pete joined up and the bus ride was spent joking around; but inside, I felt a warmth that originated deep within, and my heart wandered far from where my mind us.

She smiled at me amicably in the hallway, winking as though reminding me of our secret. The moment was perfect, had Whitney not come up to her, reminding me all to well of the platonic heartache that poetically resided between us. Plain old deflated, I kicked the corny shit to the curb and spent the rest of the class period in mindless contemplation.

It was Sunday; November.....I don't exactly remember....all I remember is the clarity of it all and the disturbing sensation that I had fallen into some deep, marvelous and terrible glass bottomless well; she was there, trapping me inside herself, and yet shutting me out. I wanted to just reach out and touch her, to see if she was real or another sad and scary illusion.

She had been there when I'd jumped up the stairs; startled, I stared at her for a second before her smile registered. Curiously, she looked at me.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Still not used to seeing you up here."

She grinned, and came a little closer.

Friendship was hard, harder than hate at that moment.

"Are you ever gonna take me again?" the question fell out from between her lips innocently, unleashing a stab of emotion inside me I masked ferociously.

"Take you where?" I managed, knowing already.

"Up," she answered, a little lost; she studied the ground, as though she felt ashamed.

"You wanna go?" I asked, a little unbelieving.

Her look was enough; suddenly, current flew through me at the dark, trembling sparks in her eyes. I don't remember much, just grabbing her hand and running down the stairs. Her eyes were huge and sad, and I could tell she was thinking about things I didn't know. She just wanted to leave, leave the ground, ....

Gasping, she looked at me in terror and delight as we reached the middle of the field; a rush flew through my veins, a mad poison in my blood and suddenly, I didn't know what I was doing anymore.

"Hang on tight," I whispered, and the touch of her lithe body against mine was enough to make my fingers ache with the restraint to stay away. She pressed warm and tight against me, and I held her so hard it had to hurt. I remember shooting up through the clouds, soaring above the inky darkness spotted by the little warm fireflies of lights; we floated in the cool darkness as she rested her head against my chest, and I could feel her dizziness.

"I wanna touch a star," she said, and I sighed.

"You'd die if we went through the atmosphere." I told her.

She burrowed deeper into me and I felt a terrible sadness at the careless intimacy she created around us.

"I don't care," were her tiny words, almost unheard.

We were quiet for a second.

"I do," I replied simply, and drifted slowly towards the ground.

When she looked up, the dark blue and gold of the night shimmered in her eyes.

"I know," she said and smiled a little, and all was right with the world.

The feeling suddenly froze and disappeared, my senses completely stunned as I felt the tiny touch of her lips on my chest through the thin fabric of my undershirt; her fingers traced an "S" shape on the muscles I instinctively hardened, unaccustomed to the touch. I heard a tiny change in her breathing, maybe a sharp intake of air, a tiny pleased sound that didn't escape me; no one else would have, but right then my senses had disappeared to the outside, and resided only on her. I smiled a small smile in the darkness, amused at her wonderment. Hard work pays off in more ways than one....

"I should call you Superman. You can fly and console pathetic girls....somebody give him a cookie...." she said with a small, tense laugh, her fingers continuing their lost little course over the steel expanse. I breathed out and relaxed, but I was still tense; her fingers were electricity on my thinly clothed skin...

We landed softly, and awkwardly she stepped away, suddenly a stranger. Determined not to ruin the perfect night, I put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed warmly for a second before letting go.

"You're a soldier, we'll get through this," I said quietly, and her eyes were full of gratitude.

We both grinned, settling into a comfortable silence as we walked home. She smiled a brief good night through the screen door, and I wandered home dazed still feeling the touch of her fingers....softly tracing... an ....S..........