Yes - this is beta'd just as much as the other two
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Question though - Bethy, rightly, pointed out that Ma Lane wouldn't 'tan his hide', she would... ground him for a week? Take away his silver spoon? Not a clue what. Thoughts?
It's actually quite freeing to write this way - no plot, no beta just you and the Word doc...
Hope it comes out to something good... And yes the posts are shorter the normal for me but frequent is good right? Right?!
Last time"Have a seat," Martha said, gesturing towards the table. "I'm Martha Kent. My husband and I own this place."
He shook Martha's offered hand as Lois got the plate of barbecue brisket out of the warmer. He sat at the table and Lois set the plate in front of him.
"What can I get you to drink?" Lois asked, heading for the refrigerator.
"Whatever you have is fine." He took a big bite of the beef. "This is really good," he muttered around the mouthful of food. A minute later, he'd swallowed. "Sorry. I know it's rude to talk with your mouth full and my mom would tan my hide if she caught me, but this is really good."
Martha laughed. "Oh, you're fine. It's not every day we have a Superman here."
*~*3*~*Clark almost dropped his fork and choked on a bite of brisket. "Excuse me?" he managed to cough.
The young woman who had shown him to his room rolled her eyes. "She's got some... *thing* for Superman."
"Lois Kent, I do not."
"Sorry, Mom." Her tone indicated the opposite.
"I do *not* have a thing for Superman. Your sister might, but I don't. Fascinated, sure, but who isn't? And this young man certainly looks a bit like Superman so..."
Lois rolled her eyes. "If you say so."
Clark breathed a slight sigh of relief. It didn't seem like this woman had guessed his secret seconds after meeting him but he made a mental note to be a bit more careful.
"Do you prefer sweetened or unsweetened tea, Mr. Lane?"
He glanced up at his young hostess. "Sweetened please, and, please, call me Clark."
She set a glass down in front of him. "There you go, Clark."
Martha looked at him from across the table. "So what're you doing in Smallville, Clark?"
He shrugged. "My editor thinks there's a story here."
"About what?" Martha and Lois exchanged a glance. "The Corn Festival doesn’t start until Friday and I can't imagine that the Daily Planet would be interested in that."
He finished another big bite of brisket. "No. Something about pesticides on the..." He shrugged. "I forget the name of the farm. I've got it written down in my bag."
"The Irig farm?" Martha asked, shocked. "Is *that* what they're doing? They told us it was Mad Cow Disease from their fertilizer. We all thought it was pretty unlikely but we really have no idea how it's spread or anything and why would they make fertilizer out of infected cows?"
Clark shrugged. "I was told pesticides."
"The Irigs have never used pesticides," Lois told him. "Ever."
"Well, now, not ever," Martha corrected. "Wayne's grandparents used DDT briefly in the 1930s but Wanda Mae had a bad reaction to it and they used it for... a year? Maybe? Something like that? Before and since, they've used natural means to deal with pests."
Clark leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. "Why two stories? What's really going on over there? They do make fertilizer from infected cows, but that's rare. A company trying to cut costs, but not often. Besides being illegal, it would ruin whatever reputation they had and possibly ruin them financially."
"I've never heard of such a thing." It was Martha's turn to look a bit worried. "And what about Wayne and Maggie? Where are they?"
Lois rested a comforting hand on her mom's shoulders. "I'm sure they're fine, but whatever's going on over there, it's not completely above board. They wouldn't risk hurting them, though. That wouldn't look good when word got out."
"And what about Josh?"
"Who's Josh?" Clark asked.
"Josh Irig, Lois' boyfriend."
"Mo-om." Lois turned to take a tray of cookies out of the oven. "He's not my boyfriend. We went out in high school and have gone out a few times since then, but only because we had nothing better to do, not because he's my *boyfriend*," she explained. "And I'm sure he's fine, too. He's out of town this week."
"Is there anywhere I can get proof of that? Where would the citations be kept if they'd gotten any, receipts for fertilizers, things like that."
Lois sat down at the table. "Well, Dan would have record of any citations – or City Hall might..."
"Dan?"
"The sheriff," Martha told him.
"...and Chris Davis at the feed store would have records of any fertilizers and stuff," Lois continued as though neither of them had spoken. "I doubt you'll get anywhere with them, though."
"Why is that?"
Lois shrugged. "You're not from around here and people tend to get suspicious of people who aren't from around here."
Clark sighed. "I'm on the up and up, I promise. I don't know why my editor sent me here, but he did. All I want to do is find out what's really going on and leave. I won't make anyone look bad who doesn't deserve to look bad. If someone has nothing to hide, I won't try to expose it. If someone really is a good guy, I have no reason to try to make something up. I'll print the *truth*."
"Sorry, Clark. That's the way it is."
Clark took the last bite of his meal as he thought. "I'll figure something out."
"Cookie?" Lois held out the slightly cooled metal sheet towards him.
"Thanks." He reached for one, eating it slowly, savoring every bite. "These are really good."
"Lois has won the cookie bake-off for six years straight."
"I can see why. You could take over the world with these cookies." He reached for another one. "It's been a long day," he sighed. "Do you mind if I turn in?"
"Oh, not at all," Martha told him, patting his hand. "You're our *guest*. You're free to come and go as you please, eat when you want and anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know."
"Thank you."
Clark stood and picked up his plate and glass. "What should I do with these?"
"I got 'em," Lois said, reaching for them.
He felt a slight shock as her fingers brushed against his. She didn't seem to have noticed as she turned towards the sink. He picked up a couple more cookies and headed back to his room.
It didn't have an attached bath, so he grabbed his things and headed across the hall. He tried to be conscious that he wasn't the only one who would be using the hot water, so he kept the shower fairly short.
He dried off using one of the towels he'd found in his room and swore under his breath. He'd grabbed the flannel shirt Mayson had given him, not the sleep shorts he'd remembered to toss in at the last minute. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back towards his room.
No sooner than he had shut the door than there was a knock on it.
He sighed and opened it to see Lois standing there.
"Yes?" he asked when she muttered something under her breath.
He heard her breath catch in her throat as she stared at him. "Um, I meant nine, but I thought you'd be naked."
*****
TBC
