The Memoirs

It was in that precise moment, when father and son were once again joining forces, in heart and mind, that Pete was burying his fist into Whitney’s face.

He felt the crunch of bone and pulled his throbbing hand back, rearing it back and smashing it again.

Whitney was stunned by the first blow but was ready for the second, barely managing to cushion the impact of Pete's fist against his nose with a hand as blood poured out of it. "Pete, man, what the fuck!"

Pete pulled his fist back, torn and bleeding itself, and stopped to give Whitney a long look, full of fury. Whitney’s face was bleeding, badly, and it gave him a savage little glee inside.

The bell had rung five minutes prior, and he and Whitney had met up in the hall. Pete was going to give him a ride home, and question him as to why Shayla hadn’t been in class.

And had remembered one tiny detail. "You saw my girl naked?"

"Christ, is that what this is about??" Whitney was using what was left of his shirt to try and staunch the bleeding in his nose until he could make it to the bathroom.

"Man, I know you are not trying to dodge the question." He said it easily... companionably. "What. The fuck. Were you doing. To see my girl naked?"

"No, I'm not dodging the question!" Whitney yelled, doing exactly that as he shouldered the men's room door open and hung his head over the sink.

Pete stepped in right behind him... giving Jim Blair a death glare until he scooted out of the bathroom, and leaned against the sink. Backpack over his shoulders, snug shirt and jeans in place under the leather jacket, and his glare deepened. "Don’t. Dodge."

"Look, Shayla wasn't in class because she wasn't feeling good and Clark cut to take her home, okay?" Whitney turned on the water and started rinsing blood out of the sink as he skinned out of his own black leather jacket and pulled off his ruined shirt and pulling his gym shirt out instead.

"Man, one more time and I’m gonna have to defend my honor. What the fuck were you doing when you saw Shayla naked?"

"Sitting in a chair on the other side of the fucking room!"

Pete pulled his fist back, snagged Whitney by the chest hair, and slammed his fist into his face again. Another, into his gut, and Pete grabbed his arms and slammed him against the bathroom wall, snarling darkly. "You were watching my girl?"

"She and Chloe both said I could!" he said, doubling over his stomach as much as he could. "Jesus Christ! If I didn't know better... I'd say you're in love with her. But you couldn't be, cause you fucked her off in the cafeteria."

"Fuck you man!" Pete snarled, shoving him back against the wall. "You watched Shayla and--..." Holy fuck.

He let go... his eyes widened into twin spheres in his face. He was part deeply hurt, part outrageously aroused, and his eyes boggled as he took a shaky step back. Shayla? His Shayla? And Chloe? CHLOE?

Oh. God.

"Shayla came to Chloe for help, okay?" Whitney coughed, spit up a mouthful of blood into the skin, and groaned as he leaned his head back against the cold cinderblock wall. "She wanted to learn how to blow you, man. So her and Chloe were talkin', and Chloe... Chloe found out that Shay'd never... you know, done herself. So, Chloe taught her how. They let me watch, long as I didn't say a word."

Okay. The deeply hurt and outrageously aroused both peaked at once, and the sheer maleness of his brain was finding ways to get them to do it again.

No! Think not with your penis!

"She and... they… fucked?" His eyes were still wide. "Why did they let you watch?" Here was the hurt part. "Why didn’t she just come to me?"

"No! They didn't... they didn't fuck, okay? They just... they jerked off together. Well... obviously not jerked off, but you know. They didn't touch each other, except for a kiss at the end. I don't know why she didn't come to you; I'm just the dumb jock here."

A deep sigh, and Pete let the anger slide out of him. He winced, and helped Whitney to the sink, sighing as he shucked out of his coat and his book bag. "Sorry, man. For slammin' ya. Just… yeah. I am in love with her, deep, I think. I think 'bout her all the time, can’t get her off my head. She’s always there, and she just...yeah. Sorry. I got jealous, hurt, thought maybe she'd..."

"S'okay." Whitney groaned again. "Nothing an ice pack and a shower can't fix." He started the water runnin' again. "Look, you wanna know what I think? I think she didn't wanna look stupid in front of you for not knowin' this stuff, cause all she said was Pete this and Pete that, and man, I heard more about your dick than I EVER wanted to know."

His face cracked into a grin before he could stop... but he sobered a second later. "I think she feels young. She’s my girl though, ya know? She can't ever look stupid in front of me." A moment, as he began to pull brown paper from the roll connected to the wall. "I was angry, at lunch. Didn’t know what I was saying, man. I was just... wounded pride'n shit. I gotta find her and apologize for it." Another sigh, and he handed the brown paper over... stopping a moment as Whitney began to clean up. "They were naked...together?"

"Yeah, man. Layin' on the bed together, side by side, so Chloe'd show her what she was supposed to be doin'. But like I said, they didn't touch each other, and Chloe even asked me to make sure it was okay."

He couldn’t help the tremble. "You’re a lucky mother fucker, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do know that." He didn't dare grin; he didn't want his nose completely broken and shoved back up in his brain.

"When everything’s good and everything, again, what do you think the odds are they'll do it again?" He cracked a half smile, though, to make his friend feel better, and to apologize over smashing his face in.

"For you? Dude, just ask her. Shit, she'd do anything for you. I mean, askin' for blow job tips? C'mon."

"I adore her." He said it softly. "I really fucked up, didnt I?"

At that, Whitney did look up. "She loves you, man... I think you upset her. Saw her runnin' past me to the bathroom and sobbin', and then Clark said he was takin' her home cause she wasn't feelin' all great when he came to get her shit from the table."

"Fuckin' hell." Pete rubbed both hands over his face and sighed, deeply. "Come on, get dressed. I'll take ya home and go talk to her." Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT. Why did women have a way of making guys feel like shit?

Whitney dug in his pants pockets and pulled out a handful of change. "Here, go'n call her. Think she was gonna hang out at the barn with Clark a while, make sure she's over there 'fore you go. Know you don't wanna run into Lex for no reason."

He accepted the change and tipped his head. "Whit... thanks. I’m sorry I clocked you. Wasn’t a need for it... just got a temper."

"S'okay. I'da done the same to anybody who popped off about Chloe."

...."You got off?"

Whitney strangled a cough. "Yeah. I did. Held off long as I could but couldn't help it. Had to, man, or I was gonna die."

"You... got off to my Shayla, and Chloe--..alright, dammit, I can't get mad at that." And he couldn’t. Fuck Whitney. Fuck Whitney and seeing every man’s fantasy. He glared at him out of pure masculine jealousy. "I told you I hate you, right?"

"Yeah, you mighta mentioned that." A little half-grin.

A fluttery sigh. "Fucker. When she doesn’t think I’m a toad, I might talk her into it." He said it casually, half glancing. "Wouldya be up for it?"

"Ya kiddin', right? I'd be up for it; it was fuckin' hot."

A glare. "You suck." He picked up his bag again, shifting it over his shoulder, and with one last snarl, walked to go find a phone.

"And well, so I've been told!" Whitney yelled out, then stuck his entire face into the sink of cold water.

Aaah, sweet Jesus that stung, but it felt good. The throbbing in his nose and the back of his head receded quite a bit.

Pete walked down the long hall, passing the few remaining students still left in the halls, and stopped by the cafeteria. There were three payphones right next to the soda machines... the same soda machines, coincidently, that Clark couldn’t get near without blushing pink, and pushed in the fifty cents Whit had lent him. He dialed Shayla's cell first, and if she didn’t answer it, he'd call the mansion, then Clark's place, then half the fucking globe to find her.

Shayla's feet were in the air as her little cell phone chirped, and she swore as she startled, sending a pink stripe halfway up her big toe. "Hold your water!" she yelled at the phone, hurriedly screwing the lid on her nail polish as she scrabbled through her backpack for the phone. Four rings, five, and she picked it up on the sixth. "Smallville Asylum, Head Nut Speaking."

"Hi. I’m looking for Dr. Zhivago."

Shayla swallowed hard. But her chipper facade didn't fade. "I'm sorry, Dr. Zhivago isn't in right now, but we have Dr. Lecter, and Dr. Mengele, will they suffice?"

"Is this the girl that made a fool as blind as can be?"

"Yeah, I think it is," she said carefully, not sure of what his reaction was going to be.

"Blond, bout yay tall, big blue eyes, gorgeous little compact body?"

"Yeah, you got the first three right."

"Naw. Had the last, I know what its like." He swallowed. "I’m not really calling for myself... it actually this guy, Jed. Idiot Jed. He really wanted to tell you he was sorry."

"Yeah?" Shayla pulled up her left knee and rested her chin on it as she looked out the window. "Well, tell that Idiot Jed he's forgiven."

"Good. I'll relay the... wait a minute... yeah, Jed... he says to tell you he was kind of hurt by something you said. Something about, I dunno, spinelessness or something, he's muttering."

She sniffled. "Tell him I didn't mean it; I just worry about him getting hurt by people and wanted to make sure nobody walked all over him, that's all. Cause... you know, he's really a sweet, wonderful guy. And I love him a lot."

"I hear that. He says to tell you he adores you, and he’s sorry for acting like a proud dick head." Pete pressed the slightly stinky receiver closer to his ear. "He knows he's kind of a dork... would you consider dating me, instead? Cause I think maybe I love you more then he does."

Shayla paused. "Oh, I'd have to think about it." She was quiet for about two and a half seconds. "Okay. Yeah. I think I can date you instead."

"Yeah?" He grinned, in total joy. "Do you think maybe we could start fresh?"

She shook her head. "Nah, don't think we can do that. Cause, see, here's the thing. We do that, then you and I might make the same mistake that just happened with Jed again. So how about we just... kinda move on instead?"

"Hmmm... I think I like that idea." His voice took on a slightly wicked edge. "Heard you got off with a certain girl friend of mine."

Shayla blushed. "Somebody's been tellin' tales, and I'm going to rip his fucking nuts off."

"Dunno. I was mid way through punching his face through his skull when he told me… kinda stopped me halfway in my tracks."

"Peter Isaac Ross! You didn't hit poor Whitney!"

A wince? "Uh... no. Of… course not?"

"PETE!!!! You apologize to Whitney this minute!"

"I did." A sigh. "He saw you naked, alright? I had to protect your honor here."

"He didn't touch anything! He just watched!"

"But he saw skin! I was not pleased. Well, until he told me what you were doing... Shayla, why didn’t you just tell me? I could have helped… you didn’t have to go to Chloe, baby. I’ve sucked plenty of cock, okay? I could have showed you, if you wanted me to."

"I know you could have. But I didn't want you to, okay? I wanted to be able to surprise you with it. That's why I asked Chloe. Cause I wanted to learn it myself, and then show you."

"Okay." A little nod into the receiver. "I gotcha, Shay." He tipped his head a little… stuffed his hand into his pocket. "Are we cool?"

"Nope. Not until I get my makeup sex, which Chloe has told me is phenomenal."

He couldn’t help it... he laughed. "Girl, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Hang tight. Gotta get Whit home."

"Let him drive himself," she countered. "And I'll be waiting for you."

"Gonna be naked for me, Shay?"

"As the day I was born," she promised. "I've even got my toenails painted, just for you."

He lowered his voice, took a glance around the empty halls, just in case. "Shay... masturbate for me. Right now. Didn’t know you'd never done it, baby… should have showed you, but now you know. Touch yourself, right now."

"Mmmm... yeah, it's only fair. I mean... you did for me on the phone, and... okay, yeah... it's kinda hot." She lifted up her hips and squirmed out of the ratty shorts she'd put on. "Okay... it's kinda sad, in a way, that just talking to you... gets me wet like this."

"Shit. Got like, two seconds, baby, I’m on the public phone. Dip your fingers in...oh, put your dildo, in your ass. Get some lotion, oil it up, n' get it in. I'll be there soon."

She shivered. "Oh yeah. I'll be waiting like that for you. Come on up; the door'll be locked, but call me when you get the mansion door and I'll open it for you."

"Got it. ...I love you, Shay."

"I love you, Pete... I missed you. Promise we won't ever fight again?"

"No. Fightin's good." But he smiled. "Promise my pride won't get'in the way anymore."

"Close enough." She squirmed on the bed again. "Hurry, okay?"

"Want it in you deep, Shay. Want you to fuck yourself. Be there soon."

And with that, he hung up.

And trembled.

~ * ~ * ~

Lex had gone an hour ago; they'd finally seemed to come to an understanding about some things, and the others just didn't matter at the moment. He sat now in the hot tub beside the pool, relaxing the bunched and knotted muscles from the workout with Clark and then the confrontation with his son.

He'd also worked his way through half a bottle of Auvignon cognac as he sat there brooding.

It was a happy brood, though, if a brood could be called that. He was brooding on his own past, on all the places where he'd gone wrong with Lex, and all the retributions he would have to make to his son.

Including an informal reception here, where Lionel could tell their family--and friends--what they'd done.

But Lex still troubled him, in a good way, because the boy did truly mean a great deal to Lionel, and he brooded deeply over the fact that Lex... hadn't seemed to have known it.

A deep sigh, and he looked up at the ceiling, wondering where Dominic was, and if he'd come down.

Dominic was brooding, as well. Quite deeply, and not at all pleasantly. He was laying in bed, and like his lover three floors below him, had gone on a splurge.

Only his was a quarter gallon of rocky road. And he'd polished it off some time ago.

The burning around his throat had only made him angry, and he'd kicked a few things before stubbing his toe and sitting down with his ice cream and Lord of the Rings. Boromir was dead, Aragorn was utterly sexy, and Sam and Frodo flamed worse than himself and Lionel. No matter.

He took a twenty minute nap, and woke up... alone. And because he was the type of fellow who didn’t like that, he climbed to his feet and went looking for his lover.

His little spectacles, which he'd found thank heavens, were crooked on his nose as he stretched and stepped out of his bedroom.

Lionel stretched in the Jacuzzi as the hot bubbles pummeled his back and his calves, legs tired after working out heavier than he had since his accident.

Overall, he couldn't complain. His stamina was slowly returning, Lex was at the moment in a quiet truce with him, and the only thing he truly wanted right now were a box of fries, and his cricket.

He'd settle for just his cricket.

On his travelous search for Lionel, he found Enrique, who informed him with a stutter in his Spanish accent that Lionel was in the sun room with the pool. Lovely. If Dominic knew where the fuck the sun room was.

Dammit.

He kept walking until he couldn’t walk anymore, and found four doors of which he had no clue where they led. The second led him into a room splashed with sun beams and heat... and heard the sound of bubbles.

The floor was tiled with light blue and yellow tiles, and the pool was magnificent. Long, Olympic sized, and as he breathed he smelled chlorine.

And cognac.

A glance around...yes. Dominic rose a brow, his socked feet quiet on the tile as he crouched in front of his lover in the sunken Jacuzzi, bubbles and heat rolling off the jasmine scented water. "There you are. Cozy as a pea in a pod, are we?"

"I don't suppose you have French fries with you?" Lionel asked quietly, out of nowhere.

He grinned, crookedly. Who else would ask such a thing? He shook his head gently, instead tugging his jeans up a little so he could settle at the edge of the Jacuzzi, Indian style, and wasn’t his lover so much clearer with the blasted glasses? He cupped his chin with one hand, elbow on the bend of his leg, and grinned. "You’re having a right fine time, aren’t you?"

"Ah, well. I was just thinking that there were two things that I needed to be completely happy; French fries and you. I suppose I shall have to make do." He offered Dominic the cognac glass. "Have a drink. Take off your clothes, stay awhile. I'd say that the water is fine, but that is cliché."

"A cliché we enjoy." He smiled and took a sip from the glass, sighing in pleasure at the smoothness of it, and he set the glass on the side of the Jacuzzi. He climbed, fluidly, to his feet, unzipping his jeans before tugging his shirt up over his slender torso. It fluttered to the tile, jeans and socks following... no underwear cause he hadn’t been wearing any, and he took hold of the metal bar… intent to get in before he pause. "Can I do something a moment?"

"As long as you don't piss in the Jacuzzi, you can do anything you like."

He snickered, shook his head… turned, and ran. Fast as a flash he raced across the tile, and just as he got to the edge of the pool, he leapt, tucked his knees to his chest, and canon bombed.

He fell in, at least ten feet, and he was laughing underwater, spluttering as he let go of his knees and began to kick towards the surface.

Lionel just shook his head and laughed as he watched Dominic surface. "Did you leave any water in the pool, Jiminy? Or did you clean it all out with that spectacular dive? I've given you a ten of course, but I seem to have misplaced my scorecard."

He was grinning from the edge of the pool, peeking up at his lover before he pressed each palm on the tile and reared himself up onto the edge. He pushed the streams of wet from his eyes, grinning broadly at him as he wiped his nose and climbed back to his very naked feet. "Sorry. Its one of those things that can't be helped." He walked back to the Jacuzzi and grabbed the bar, sliding down into the water like a fish... and oh. The cold water, to the hot, and yeah. He sighed, heavily, softly, closing his eyes... then opening one as he grinned. "Only a ten? I get at least an eleven."

"Only a ten." Lionel stretched his legs out so they rested on the bench beside his lover as he submerged himself down to his chin. "I told you the water was fine."

He sighed happily, nodding a moment as he let his eyes close. "Mmm. Just for a minute. Want to go swim." He peaked again. "How are you and Lex?"

"Aaah. And that, my cricket, is the $64,000 Question." he reached out for his cognac glass and took a deep drink. "I believe we have an understanding."

"Really? So it isn’t alright if I kill the little bastard?"

"No. You can't kill him. Nor can he kill you."

"Damn. And I was so excited."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my son is off-limits as far as killing goes." He sighed. "I have promised that I won't tease him so much either."

He shrugged softly. "Its good you're both reconciled." Another sigh. "We made a mistake not inviting him, Lionel." He rubbed his toes against Lionel’s hip gently.

"No, Jiminy. I did. I believed he didn't care. That was my mistake to make." He sighed softly. "But it is moot now; I will have to find a way to make it up to him however."

"I’m as much a part of it as you, baby." Soft sigh. "I didn’t even think he'd be upset... he seemed to uncaring towards what we have, I just didn’t think he'd want to be a PART of whatever you and I were going to do."

"I didn't think so either, but it hurt him deeply." Lionel shook his head. "I will never understand my son."

"Me neither." Dominic glanced up, and rose a hand from the water to scratch the side of his jaw. "I broke me own rule. Told him I loved him. And everything was fine, till that moment, until I bloody said I was taking Clark to Argentina… and he took me seriously."

"I have simply learned not to mention Clark when I am dealing with Lex. But I do have the explanation for that; Clark and Lex had a bit of a spat over the weekend, which is why Lex didn't get our message until a few hours ago, about our plans. And why we believed he didn't care." He sunk down deeper into the water, until only his head was above it. "I told him I loved him; he loves me in return. We are back on that slow road towards each other, Dominic."

"Its wonderful, Lionel. Truly." Dominic nodded gently and surged up, shifting and poking Lionel in the side of the hip till he moved over and made him room on the bench. He snuggled in next to his lover and lay his temple on Lionel’s, letting out a soft yawn. "Its finally happened, and I’m so very glad for it."

Lionel wrapped his arms around Dominic and snuggled their wet bodies together under the water. "Mmm. I just wonder how long it will last this time, and what will be the next derailment. And will I even be smart enough to see it when it happens."

"I don’t know. I think this might have been the metaphorical brick wall. Lex saw what was happening, and saw the way to fix it. And he did. And he's a good lad for it." A moment... a long one. "He's a good boy, Lionel. He just needs the chance."

"He tried to hurt you."

"Didn’t bloody let him, did I? I hope his ear is nice and sore for more then a week."

"I'm sure it will be." Lionel kissed Dominic's temple softly, cuddling him close. "He cried. In front of me."

His eyebrows hit his hairline, and he looked up, fingers tightening around his lovers waist as his free hand sought out Lionel’s. "He what?"

Lionel's fingers wound through Dominic's. "He cried. I don't believe he meant to. But he did. And he let me see it. I believe he expected me to condemn him for it, and when I didn't it... he let me touch him. Hug him."

"Oh, Lionel." Dominic’s eyes rose, and he just beamed, hugging his lover tightly as he could under water and slippery as an eel. Oh, Christ, hearing it was just so.... "Oh, darling, I’m so happy for you. I think this might be the beginning of a good relationship between the both of you, baby. Oh, I’m so happy."

"It was a beautiful talk," Lionel admitted softly. "I--I told him, Dominic. About the depression. It was afterwards, when we'd both had a chance to collect ourselves, we sat in the conservatory and talked for over an hour or more. I told him about the therapist, the psychiatrist, the medications."

"Oh, baby." Dominic’s heart stuttered in his throat. Lionel had never even told him about it, not much, and knowing that his lover was strong enough to share it with his son only made his eyes swamp with tears and pride come out of every pore of his body. "Oh, beloved. I’m so proud of you, lovely one, so proud. What did he say to you?"

"He was... understandably shocked," Lionel said. "He was very quiet, as I told him, and I wondered if he believed me or not." Another kiss to his cricket's face. "But he held my hand, and asked me why I'd never told him this before. I told him, nobody knew, not even you."

He did, but that was another subject entirely. He kissed back, tenderly, holding his hands gently and laying his face close to Lionel’s. "I’m so very proud of you, beloved. So proud. This is the step you both needed, this is what you needed to have."

"I think you're right. I think we needed to talk. We started out screaming at each other, but it calmed down into rational conversation, once we each got past the accusations."

"Its what you needed all along. I’m just glad that the first step was taken... that you finally sat down to talk to him." But he smiled and let go, splashing in front of his lover so that they were face to face, he on his feet but crouched. "Its not time for moping then. Its time for celebration."

"I'm not moping. I'm... brooding."

"Moooopemopemope." Dominic sing songed, finally climbing to his feet and peering down at his love. "What I see is my naked lover, and darling husband, sitting in a Jacuzzi with his equally as naked, somewhat insane husband, and he hasn’t yet made a move." A cluck of his tongue, and a breathy sigh.

"Didn't you know? This entire setup was a ploy to get you naked in the Jacuzzi with me. Isn't that enough of a move?"

"You mean to tell me that this was just a charade?" A melodramatic gasp. "Well, I never."

"You've never? Well, I must say you're quite experienced for someone who's never." Lionel's face was completely straight.

Dominic’s face was completely shocked. That is, until he burst out laughing. "You’re such a brat. Come on, Lionel, stop being a lazy bones and come get into that freezing water with me."

Lionel rose from the hot tub in a single, smooth motion, tossing wet hair back over his shoulder as the rest of the water slid down his back to pool at his feet. "I am not a brat, little cricket."

Oh. Dominic’s eyes widened and he murmured his very sudden appreciation, sighing as he ran his fingers down that powerful, tight chest... and pinched and tugged his nipple ring softly as he backed up... just a little. "Brat."

Without a word, Lionel moved swiftly, muscles screaming slightly in protest as he swept Dominic up, and using his lover's own weight and momentum, tossed him into the pool.

"I am not a brat."

Dominic let out a very manly bellow, and saw his lover a moment before letting out a cry and falling backwards into the water with a magnificent splash.

Oh, he was laughing under water again, and came up sputtering, coughing, and cracking up. "Lionel, you great bastard, its cold. There goes my erection."

Lionel dove in a moment after his lover, jackknifing gracefully through the water before surfacing, his long hair plastered to the back of his neck and away from his face. "It is not cold; it's merely cooler than the Jacuzzi. The pool is heated to a constant seventy-five degrees, and you will begin to feel it shortly."

He backstroked, awaaay from his husband, and rose a slender, elegant little brow as he did it. "Really. Doesn’t feel much like it, but I'll take your word for it." He turned and dived under the water, kicking hard for several long moments before surfacing, halfway down the pool... raising and rubbing his eyes as he hummed innocently.

Lionel watched the graceful motion of his lover's body. "Were you trained as a swimmer?"

"Aye. I was going to do some swimmin' for the country team, but business caught me eye."

"It shows; your form is still quite superb." Lionel followed his lover with an easy breast stroke. "Do you miss it?"

"Swimming?" Dominic shrugged lightly, waiting for his lover to follow him and keeping a close eye on him. He was healed... he wasn’t a hundred percent well. "Swimmin' was always a part of my life. My Da' taught us when we were wee things, Megan and I. I remember him taken us out in the ocean in this tiny little row boat that he had, and teaching us out where the ocean was its bluest. I was never very scared of the water... he was always there to help, he was." He pushed wet hair from his forehead. "I’m just good at it. Mama wanted me to do it for me life, but what type of career is that, anyhow?"

"Quite a lucrative one, if you end up on a cereal box or with product endorsements," Lionel pointed out. "You're welcome to use this pool anytime you like, and if you would care for it, I'd be glad to hire a swim coach for you."

Dominic grinned at him and shrugged. "And I'dve been miserable, I’d wager. I love swimming... but to make something you love your life isn’t always the way of it." He backstroked again, watching his lover come towards him. "I’m nearly forty years old, Lionel. What I haven’t learned by now, I never will."

"And I am the living proof you're wrong," Lionel pointed out. "I'm nearly sixty, and look at the things that I have learned." He came to a floating stop in front of his lover, treading water so that he stayed there.

"What’s that?" He reached under the water and gently pulled Lionel’s legs up, and around his waist, gripping his lovers waist firmly and holding him up as he kicked.

"I've learned, for example, to consume French fries, carbonated soft drinks... oh, yes... and s'mores. I've learned that I don't always have to get something tangible in return for something I've given." His legs tightened around Dominic's waist. "I've learned how good it feels to have a lover slide inside me and take me for the first time in my life."

Oh. Alright. He wasn’t gonna get all emotional, but he smiled up at his lover, holding him closer as he kicked, and began to move them gently across the water. "Its never too late to do those things. I mean, really. When is it a bad time for French fries?"

"During sex; the salt could get into some very uncomfortable orifices." Lionel's voice was completely deadpan.

"You know, you’ve a point. But they’re good for after sex munchies!" A solid nod. "That I know is a fact."

Lionel snickered. "Yes, that they are." He tightened his legs around Dominic's waist as they moved through the water and back to the wall of the pool. "You know, we really should be changing positions. I should be the one holding you up."

"And whatever for?" Dominic rose a brow and ducked down, if you could call it punishment, to nip sharply at a delicious, slender throat. "I may be a bit smaller then you, but I’ve got strength in these old bones, after all. ...Besides, you should know by now that my good intentions are always a double edged sword when it comes to you." He gave a soft little thrust upwards and grinned, broadly.

"And I have just the sheath for that double-edged sword," Lionel pointed out. "However, despite the enjoyableness of fucking in a pool... I'd rather be back in our bed, warm and wrapped in blankets as you're rocking inside me."

"Mmmm." Dominic gave a husky little murmur, licking at his lovers collar gone gently, then down, to the indent of his throat. "Love your sheath. Its cozy." He murmured huskily, licking and nibbling softly, rubbing his goatee against Lionel’s now sensitized skin. "Love you."

Lionel murmured softly, making contented growls deep in his throat. "I love you, Jiminy." His hands teased lightly over Dominic's chest, nails barely flicking pebbled nipples.

Dominic, very suddenly, burst out laughing against his lovers neck. He licked again, glanced up, and laughed all the harder before paddling them over to the edge of the pool. He leaned his lover against it, cracking up as he gently rubbed close, and his eyes danced with mirth when he was finally able to catch his breath.

And from his lover’s long, wet hair, Dominic extracted a glittery dolphin sticker Aeryn had been wearing when they went to the park.

Lionel rolled his eyes, mood completely shattered as he boosted himself up onto the edge of the pool. "Jesus Christ."

Dominic kept right on laughing, hoisting himself up right next to him, and scooted as close as he could, grinning broadly and present it to him. "Sorry, love. I couldn’t keep kissing you with Free Willy gazing at me." His nose wrinkled as he snickered. "Aeryn likes to put presents in peoples hair like that. Once, I went about with quite a large Barbie sticker on the back of my knee. 'Is'a presen' Unca Ommie!'. Yes, well, I’m sure the board members had a good laugh over it." But he was still grinning, and he plopped the sticker on the back of Lionel’s hand.

Lionel peeled the sticker off and tossed it onto the pool deck. "Tell me, Dominic. Please. Tell me what it is about me that is so irresistible to any Senatori who is under the age of consent???"

"I don’t know, darling, but Ariel was still crying when we reached Richardsonville. Marie called on the cell while you were asleep and called you every name in the book." He grinned broadly, shifting his bare thighs on the tile and scratching his chest.

"That beautiful child was still crying?" Lionel's brow creased. "Perhaps we should visit them later this evening, just to make sure she is all right."

"Suucckkkerr." Dominic sing-songed.

"Do you really think so?" Lionel slipped his body back into the water, chin resting on Dominic's thigh as his breath puffed over a wet cock.

Ohhh. "Hmmm... sometimes, quite... oh. Well." Dominic murmured softly, setting his palms back on the deck and leaning back just a little as his body tingled from toes to hairline, and his cock began to stir. His feet dangled in the water, up to the knee, and he used his toes to gently rub the small of Lionel’s back.

New place. New place that he'd never seen before.

Samson wiggled his little puppy butt through the partially cracked-open door and into the room. And skidded, his little paws digging into the deck. It was water place! Water bad! But oh!! There he was!

Samson trotted quietly over to the Man. The Man with the good-tasting shoes, and sniffed. Yes! The Fun Smell that the Clark and the Lex usually had was on the Cool Man, and he went closer, putting his cold nose on the small of The Cool Man's back, and then licked up.

Dominic’s eyes widened... whatever erection he'd had faded.

Flashback. Intense. Horrifying, deep. He was staring at the far wall behind the swimming pool, and seeing the dingy, dark, dank room from so long ago. He'd only remembered one other time in his life when a cold, wet nose touched him, and it haunted him, day, after day, after day.

He looked over his shoulder. Saw the tiny puppy, and what he might become one day.

Dominic was letting out a shattering, sobbing scream as he fell forward into the water.

Lionel caught his lover, grabbing hold of him as best he could, pushing flailing limbs down. "Dominic! DOMINIC!" Lionel ducked and held, making sure that he kept his lover's head above water. "Dominic! It's Clark's puppy!"

Samson cocked his head to the side and gave a little whine. The Cool Man was afraid of him? Fear-smell tickled his nose and he sneezed a little puppy sneeze, and padded to the edge of the icky bad water, and just sat there, big brown eyes looking at The Cool Man and The Other Man That Smelled Like The Lex.

Had him, had him, LET GO. Dominic let out another sob, kicking, pushing, trying to get away from whatever had him. Oh, God, no, no, not again, please, no, and he felt tears falling, felt his chest tighten and his airway become small as a dime and he sobbed raspily, shoving harder... falling under the water, then kicking back up. Out, he had to get out, he had to get out.

Lionel let go of his lover, but only long enough turn him around. "DOMINIC!" he bellowed. "LISTEN TO ME!" He shook Dominic gently, trying to cut through whatever hysteria seemed to he gripping him. "It's me. It's Lionel. Your husband."

Samson laid down on the poolside, his muzzle resting on his paws, whimpering. Bad Bad Puppy. Bad Puppy that everyone was scared of. He whined again.

Lionel.

The memory broke and Dominic froze, staring up at his lover and tensing, hard, every muscle as he began to shake and tremble. Lawrence’s sneer turned into his lover’s kind eyes and arms, and he was in the swimming pool. Where they'd been swimming, the whale sticker, the teasing. Lionel. It was okay.

Shame washed through him in a hard shove and he shook harder, jaw locked tightly as he fought to breathe.

Lionel felt the fight go out of his lover, and Lionel towed him to the other side of the pool, boosting himself up and pulling Dominic with him. "It's okay. Dominic, it's all right. I have you. You're safe here now. I don't--" But then as soon as he said he didn't, he did. "We'll go. We'll talk to Lex about moving the dog to Clark's barn."

He gripped his lover in tight handfuls. His arms were tightly around his waist, his face close to Lionel’s, and his jaw was locked. They'd moved... moved, and he was going to pass out. He felt the blood flowing out of his face and he swallowed, gazing up at his lover as the shame rocked him to the core. "Li..."

Lex was calling Samson at the top of his voice. "Samson!!! C'mon, little guy! I don't want you to get lost! Come on! Where'd you go, buddy?"

Samson heard the Lex's voice, and he raised his head. "Bawr?" he yipped sharply.

Lex picked up the pace sharply, following the yips. "Samson? What are you doing in the.... pool house?"

"Don't faint," Lionel said sharply. "It's all right. You're safe."

His ears were full of noise, his eyes were blurry, and he gripped his lover tighter, fingers loose and strange. He shook his head a little, muttering something softly, and leaned against him, as he felt his muscles going lax. "Lio.."

Lionel moved quickly, pulling Dominic completely out of the water, holding him closely and supporting the weakening muscles. "Dominic. You're safe. You're not back there, wherever you are. You're here, the mansion, with me." Lionel looked up as his son entered the room. "Lex... will you please take that dog out of the room?"

Lex held out his hand. "C'mere, Samson."

Samson barked once at the Cool Man and the Man Who Smelled Like Lex, and then ran to The Lex. He whined to be picked up, and was rewarded when Lex turned him against his shoulder.

Lex scratched Samson behind the ears, and then looked at his father. "What's... what's wrong with him? Do I need to call someone? And is he going to be all right?"

Lionel shrugged. "Just get the dog out of here, Lex. I'll tell you more details later, as soon as I find them out." He held Dominic tightly, whispering soothingly.

He was still shaking. Trembling with every movement, face sheet white, and he grasped his lover and whimpered softly as he was held. Safe arms, a place where it was safe... not... not there.

Anyplace but there.

Dominic heard, vaguely, Lex's voice, the sound of the dog moving and speaking and its a puppy Dominic, a puppy. It was Clark’s puppy. He had to remember that. Had to stay awake, and close his eyes, trying to stay away from the abyss and just breathe. Lionel’s arms, Lionel’s words, it was okay.

He felt gut wrenchingly ashamed.

Lionel's hands kept stroking over his lover's back, cradling Dominic's head against his shoulder. "Sssh... it's okay. Lex is taking the dog out."

Lex nodded, and cuddled Samson close. "Gonna buy you a bell, buddy, so I can keep up with you." He stroked and scratched behind his ears, and shouldered the door open the rest of the way. "Let me know if I can do anything to help," was his last shot as he and the dog disappeared.

Dominic kept his eyes closed. Didn’t say anything, not for long minutes. Quiet. He hadn’t had an episode like this in almost five years, but the reaction to it, the clenching fear, were just like yesterday.

Ten minutes could have passed...four days, for all Dominic knew, before he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, in that way the world was when you closed your eyes for a bit, and he swallowed, harshly, as he looked up at his lover with glassy eyes, and spoke. "I am so sorry."

"No. Don't be sorry." Lionel's eyes met his lover's. "Don't be sorry at all; fear is natural. We all have bad memories and bad associations." His fingers stroked through the short bristle of his lover's hair, teased the line of his full goatee. "Are you all right?"

"No." He croaked, shaking his head as he sat up. The world went sideways a moment, until he closed his eyes and opened them again, and he rubbed his hands through his hair, over his face, and lowered his cheek to his upraised knees.

"Come on." Lionel got to his feet, and pulled Dominic up behind him. He guided him back over to the hot tub, and then behind it, to the small sauna. Hot steam boiled out of the door, and the clammy shivering skin of his lover didn't make him feel any better. He wrapped Dominic in a large white towel, monogrammed with the Luthor family crest, and half guided, half carried him into the sauna and onto one of the padded benches. "There. We'll get you warm again, and then we'll go upstairs."

"Don’t leave me." Christ, he was such an idiot. "Don’t leave me, Lionel." His eyes, when he looked up, begged, even as he trembled and tightened the towel around him tightly.

"I'm not," he reassured. "I'm not leaving, just closing the door." He shut the door firmly, and then came back to the bench to sit beside his lover. He gathered Dominic to him, arms tightening possessively on his lover's waist. "I'm here. I'm always here with you."

Dominic wrapped his arms tightly around him, right on back, holding him close as he lay his cheek on his lovers shoulder and let himself be held.

It wasn’t over. It was never over. It would haunt him, and hurt him, and make people he loved, like his husband, think of him as less then a man. Over, and over, and over, it would never end. He would deal with this until the day he died. It was a fucking puppy, and he'd nearly had a breakdown over it. Over a harmless little curious baby dog.

He was sure, as he sat there with his love, that he'd never in his life sunk lower.

"I love you." Lionel kept stroking him, offering comfort. "Did you hurt yourself? Are you all right?" Lionel's hands, as they stroked, felt gently for any possible injury.

He shook his head, once. Bit his lip tightly. "I n... need to go lay down."

"All right. Come on. There are robes in the lockers; we needn't bother getting dressed except in those." Lionel got to his feet again, pulled Dominic with him. "Dominic, it's all right. It's quite all right."

It wasn’t. It was so far from alright he could barely breathe. "Okay." he rose, shakily, the hot steam making his body warm as they walked slowly. "I’m okay. Don’t get worried, lovely." He tried for a little smile, and gently touched his cheek.

"Liar," Lionel chided softly. "You're not all right. You're not at all well. But it doesn't matter; I'll see to it that you're taken care of. There's clean pajamas waiting upstairs for us, and I'll have ice cream brought up so you can munch while I hold you."

"No." A firm shake of his head. "No ice cream. Sleep."

"All right. Sleep. I'll hold you while you sleep." Lionel's arm was firm around his beloved's waist as he guided them out and to the lockers, pulling out thick white robes for each of them.

"I’m going to use the bathroom a moment." Another little smile as he wormed into the fluffy robe, belting it and reaching up to give his lover a kiss. "Be right back, alright? Get our clothes and sings all picked up."

"Don't be gone too long; I will come look for you." Lionel nodded his agreement. "I'll have our things ready to go when you're done."

Dominic nodded, gave another smile, and turned, walking past the long lockers and to the spacious bathroom. Showers were along one wall, more lockers, and toilet stalls, with sinks in a row on the wall opposite of them.

Dominic opened one up, closed and locked it behind him, and sat down.

And he sobbed. With everything he was, he cried for the pain he brought to this marriage, this union of souls, and his lover.

~ * ~ * ~

Whitney pulled into his parking space behind the store, and grumbled. And then cursed, when he saw the little red convertible sitting in the space beside his.

Chloe. Was waiting for him.

Another round of swearing as he dug through his glove compartment, and pulled out a pair of black Ray-Bans. The last thing he needed was for her to see he'd been brawling with Pete. His jeans were still a little bloody, but he'd change them for khakis once he got inside the store, and he'd trade the Smallville High Athletic Department shirt for the blue polo top of a Fordman's employee.

The throbbing in his face had migrated into his head.

"Whose that, knockin on my door? Gotta be a quarter to four! Is it you again, comin' round for more? You can love me toooniighhtt if you want! But in the morning make sure you're gone, I’m talkin to you hot legs!"

Her voice was making the other shoppers leave. Did she care? Hell no.

She was dancing, the ear phones on her ears and the CDs in front of her awash in the yellow glow of indoor lights and sunlight. She was wriggling her tight little tushie in the dark jeans, palms over the earphones as she sang.

Whitney opened the employee-only entrance at the back of the store, and then cringed. Chloe was singing again. He nearly turned around and left, but instead walked up behind her, clapping his hand over her mouth.

"Hot le--" Muffled. Oh god! She pushed an elbow back, knocking the wind out of whoever had her, stomped on the tennis shoed foot, and turned, rearing her fist back.

Whitney doubled over, then held up his hands in surrender. "I come in peace," he choked out, winded from the elbow.

"Oh! Baby!" Oh! "Baby, I’m sorry! I thought... I’m sorry!" Chloe reached out, grabbing his bicep and his waist, and gently led him to a chair, where a table with a coffee machine waited. "Oh, sweetie, I--..." Moment. She cocked a brow up high, and pulled the sunglasses off.

Her hands went to her hips, and her eyes narrowed. "Who hit you?"

"You did."

"Aside from me, Whitney Fordman!" And she kicked him lightly for good measure, before crouching in front of him and gazing up. "Sweetie, what happened? You're full of blood... crap. Hold on." She rose and walked to the small set of cabinets, rooting about until she found… aha! First aid.

Whitney winced, and put his sunglasses back on. "I ran into the wrong side of Pete's fists," he explained.

"Pete?!" She shrieked, tugging his glasses off again. "Pete hit you?! Wait until I get to him. He'll be begging me not to kill him when I’m through."

Whitney's eyes slammed shut. "Chloe, baby... please. I'm going to tape your mouth shut."

"The hell you are! I’m going to kill him! Why did he hit you?!" She sank into a chair in front of him, pulling the box over and tucking her long blond locks behind her ear. Inside was alcohol swabs, gauze, and creams. Good. She pulled out the swabs, looked at his face and took out two Band-Aids and antibacterial cream before scooting close again.

"Do you come with a volume control?" He winced at the raised voice. "He hit me a couple times, I didn't hit him back, and he apologized. We're good, all right?"

"Why did he hit you?" She demanded, her voice hard but her fingers incredibly gentle, as she moved his face closer and began to look over it.

Whitney grimaced again. "Remember how at breakfast I made the incredibly stupid decision to let the world know I'd seen Shayla naked? Pete kinda took exception to that."

Chloe stopped, fingers poised on his face. The little gauze was soaking up a still broken eyebrow, and she pulled it back, and stared at him. "You... I didn’t hear you. You mean to tell me you told the group you'd seen Shayla and me naked?"

"No, not you. Just her." He glared. "Were you not there this morning? Hello? Told her to shut up and said the fact I'd seen her naked gave me the authority to tell her to do it?"

"No, Whitney, I was trying to figure out what was wrong with Clark and why he looked near tears." She glared at him right back.

"He and Lex have been having a few problems; he didn't exactly have time to give me the details, but the general gist of it is, Lex did something.... Lexian, Clark flipped out, Lex got his feelings hurt, and they nearly broke up. But they're back together and patchin' things up."

"And he told you?" Her eyes darkened, and she leaned back in the chair with a soft sigh. "Whitney, you know, dig yourself deeper."

"Yeah, he told me. I asked him while y'all were all up at the register."

"Alright. Lets just say that I’m not going to kill you for announcing that you'd seen Shayla naked." She tipped her head slightly and went back to the task, patting the antiseptic gently against the open cuts on his face as she took the baggie of ice she'd got, wrapped it in a towel, and pressed it to the left side of his face, under his sinuses. "Are Pete and Shayla alright? I went to talk to her after class, called her an idiot. She seemed to...yeah." She sighed, heavily. "No man is worth the aggravation." A blush lit her cheeks. "Alright, maybe one."

"If you say it's Lex Luthor, I'll never forgive you," he growled softly. "They're good, I think. Pete beat the crap outta me for a while, then went to call her, and came back with a dumb-ass smile on his face, so I'm guessin' they got somethin' worked out."

Chloe stopped pressing against his face, and this time looked into his eyes. And her face, and voice, were very softly serious, and very deeply hurt. "What do you think I'll say?"

"I hope you'll say it's me," he said, looking back at her.

She shifted a minute, set the things down, and tipped her head. "I haven’t made a lot of the right choices lately. I’ve done things that have upset you, and I know that. More then you'd think. But if by now, in our relationship, if you don’t think I don’t love you as deeply as one person can love another, then we should talk."

Whitney reached out, and took her hands in his. "Chloe, I want you to listen t'me, all right? I don't doubt that you love me. Okay? I don't. But I also know that I can be a jerk, I can be hard to get along with, dense as a brick, and dumb as shit. So yeah... I know I can be a major damned aggravation." He squeezed. "This thing with Clark and Lex... yeah. It's weird. I dig that you feel that weird closeness to Lex, cause I got it with Clark. But when it comes down to the aggravation scale? I'm about as high on it as you can get."

"Yes. You are. You are an aggravation." She nodded in affirmation. "And its one of the reasons I love you so much. Do you honestly think I could have a man who didn’t irritate me? I’d walk all over him." She shifted and squeezed his much larger hands with her own. "I know I can be a bitch, and sex crazed, and way too curious for my own good. I know it hurts you, and I’m sorry." Another shift. "This thing... with Lex and Clark. Its weird, Whitney, but whenever I get close to them… I feel... not the love I feel for you, but... like, pride. Pride in something, a goal. I know if you and I were to die tomorrow and leave kids on this earth, and by the way I think I’m pregnant, then I know in my heart that Clark and Lex would take care of them. Its just... its like a bond, and I’ve got a few theories. Everything..." She squeezed. "Everything leads back to Clark, Whit."

Everything in that entire speech just flew over Whitney's head as soon as he heard one thing. "You're... pregnant?"

"Possibly." She was so nervous she felt like she was going to puke, and she averted her eyes.

He couldn't stop the whoop that came out of his throat, but he immediately clapped his hands over his head. "Okay. Gotta stop doing that."

Her eyes flew up at the sound, and it took her a long minute to realize... it was joy. What?! "No! No whoop!"

"Yeah. Just figured that one out on my own, thanks." He glared at her from between his fingers. "You're serious? Not... not just... I don't know, a few days late and freaking out?"

"About 12 days late." She swallowed, hard. "No, Whit, you didn’t get me. No whoop. I’m seventeen, I’m a junior in high school, being pregnant? Not the funnest thing I could have imagined." She reached forward and gripped the fingers he still had pressed to his face. "I want kids. I do. I want children. But I don’t want them yet!"

Whitney shook his head. "I understand that, Chloe. I do. Believe me. But... I'm sorry. I can't help it. It's... something that I've always wanted. A family. Of my own. A girl who's not going to be pining over somebody else. Kids I can play with, boys I can teach football to, girls I can play catch with and teach them how to watch football with Dad."

Oh. Okay. See, when he put it that way her eyes filled with tears and ran down her face, trailing her mascara, and she bit her lip and just grinned at him. "You're going to be the fucking death of me. You know that, right?" She reached forward and grabbed him, hard. Hugged him as tightly as she could, and buried her face in his shoulder. "You'll help me?"

"Of course I'm gonna help you." He hugged her back in return, holding her to his chest. "You've just... given me great news, Chloe. You really have. I know it's not what you want, but... I can't be sorry about it." He grinned, and sniffled into her neck. "I'll do anything you need, and then some."

"You better be sorry about that." She frowned and hugged him once more before letting go. "My dad is going to kill me. He doesn’t know I’m even having sex... how can I tell him I’m pregnant?" What if you leave me alone with this baby?

Whitney just grinned. "Wait. Right here. And don't move." He ducked into the employee break room, and spun the lock on his locker, whistling softly. Blurry eyesight caused him to miss a number and he had to start over, but in a moment he had the lock open and the small black box in his hand.

It hadn't been sitting there for a week, and he was already getting a chance to use it. He tucked it into his pocket, locked the locker back, and then sat back down beside Chloe. Then shook his head. "No. I gotta do this right." He kissed her softly, and then he got down on one knee in front of her, and pulled out the box. He opened it up to show the small, but beautiful, diamond ring. "Chloe Sullivan... I want you to marry me."

Her eyes... widened. Twin spheres. Okay, wait. No. Go back. Oh, God. Terror hit her heart and she stared at him, then at the ring, then at him. In his eyes she saw children, a home, pampers and sheets and laundry.

She couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not yet. Too young, too much to do still, and she pressed her lips together as the tears came faster, running down her face. "Whitney.."

He frowned as he saw the tears, and he put the ring box on the table beside them as he put his arms around her waist. "Chloe? What... what's wrong? What is it?"

"Whitney... I can… can’t." She held him, softly, and tried not to look at him, so she wouldn’t see his heart break. "Not yet. I told you, when we started seeing each other, I can't do that, not yet. I’m a junior in high school... I want to go to college, I want to write and be a journalist. Whitney... I love you, but I’m not ready."

Whitney's heart did break, but he tried hard not to let it show. "I know, Chloe. I remember what you said, believe me. I just... hoped you'd change your mind. I wouldn't hold you back from doing anything that you wanted to do. You know that. Even if you say no to me now, you'll say yes to me later, and that's all that really matters," he said, trying to convince himself. "I will help you, with the baby and with anything else you need."

"Whitney.." She pulled back now, and took his cheeks. "I l-love you. You are going to be the father of my children, you are going to be the person I go through life with. I’m j-just, I’m not ready. Please, don’t hate me."

"I don't hate you." Whitney's hands came up and held hers to his face. "I don't hate you at all; I could never hate you."

"You’re sad, I can tell. Don’t be sad, I’m so sorry, Whitney, I’m sorry."

"No. Look, don't be sorry." He tried to smile, and got a small one out. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, okay? I promise."

She could tell. She wasn’t stupid, dammit, and it broke her heart to have hurt him. He looked so beautiful, on his hands and knees with the diamond ring, and he must have saved so long for it, and she was turning him down and she felt so selfish, so wrong, and she cried all the harder.

Whitney wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. "Don't cry, Chloe. Please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't--I didn't mean to fuck up, I didn't mean to make you cry. I just... wanted you to be happy. To know that I'm serious about you, me, us, all that. Please don't cry. I won't ask again, not until you tell me you're ready. I swear, just... please, don't cry."

She hugged him right back, holding him tightly and babbling as she held him. "I don’t mean to be selfish and I love you so much and you didn’t fuck up, you made me so happy and I’m so stupid because you're going to find some girl who’s willing to begin a life with you and I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I’m so serious about us, and I’m sorry."

"You're not stupid, Chloe. You're the only girl I want." He didn't let her go, at all. "You're not stupid. I didn't want to make you cry, don't be sorry."

"I h... have to go." She let go, abruptly, standing and gathering her things through blurry vision. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

"Chloe! No, don't! Please."

She was already flying out the door.

"Chloe!" he yelled after her, leaving the ring on the table as he tried to run after her. He was hobbled by the pain in his head throwing his balance off, and she had a huge head start on him.

She heard him calling for her through the snow falling, but she just ran on. Her car, her blessed car, and she yanked open the door to the little pink fifties convertible, pushing herself in and starting it up.

She was out of the parking lot, and halfway down the street when she saw him standing, watching her go.

Whitney was leaning against the door, still yelling for her though she couldn't hear him, and his face was a mask of sadness as he watched her go. His head was still throbbing from Pete's beating earlier, and there was now a huge ball of something in his throat that he could barely swallow around.

-fin-

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