Mystery author strikes again. (and no... still NOT me!)
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This is the second in the evil ficathon series. The request included a kiss in the snow. This one has a kiss in front of a window outside of which it is snowing and I know that doesn't quite fulfill the requirement, but... I hope Jessi will forgive me. This has not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine
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And I promise, I'm still working on the 'real' ficathon fic. After several failed starts [one of which is likely going to be a much longer fic next Christmas and one that turned entirely too 'dark' for a ficathon], I promise I'm working on something and then I will reveal my identity – if it hasn't been figured out already.
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The Rest of The Story She stood at the window of the little bed and breakfast in the tiny town of Smallville, Kansas.
The snow drifted slowly downward and the picture of a Norman Rockwell Saturday Evening Post cover came unbidden to her mind. She pushed it out of her mind with some measure of disgust. Sentimentality had no part in the mind of the second most powerful person in the world.
Not because she was the First Lady – heaven's no. She was much more powerful than that. She had the ear of the third richest man in the world and though he was number three in that category, she was certain that was only temporary. He wielded so much power in the business world that it was only a matter of time.
And really, politics weren't quite the place of true power anyway.
Someone with economic power could turn the fates of politicians fairly easily.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind.
They were irrelevant.
She sipped on a glass of water, unwilling that anything would cloud her judgment on this evening. Alcohol as an excuse would only serve to hasten her entrance into the next life – if there was one, something she was not entirely convinced of. In fact, in her line of work, she was fairly certain there was no afterlife. If there was, she would have been unable to do many of the things she did on a regular basis.
"Hello, darling."
"Hello, Lex." She took another sip. "Things are in place."
"Excellent."
He came and stood next to her, one hand lightly stroking her cheek.
She smiled slightly. "Later, Lex."
"Ah, yes. I know." He took a sip of the wine sitting on the table. He had none of her concerns about alcohol this evening because he trusted her to take care of things on his behalf. "How much longer?"
"Any moment now."
As though on cue, an explosion lit the peaceful winter evening.
A small smile came to her lips. "It's done."
"Excellent. Trask is no longer a problem?"
"No. And it cannot be traced to you at all."
"Even better." He took another sip. "And now for our own little celebration, Mrs. Cox."
She turned to him and smiled. "Of course."
His hand came to her face and she knew exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, she turned to him and soon she felt his lips on hers.
There were no fireworks like the ones outside the window as the small arms and other weapons the lunatic Trask had on hand for dealing with the alien freak burned off, but it was comfortable and she was looking forward to the rest of the evening.
She could get Lex to do anything she wanted if she did it just right. Just as she'd managed to convince him – without his knowledge – to take care of 'Jason Trask', the man she had known for years as Jason Cox.
And now you know the rest of the story.
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Three things I want in my fic:
1. a kiss in the snow
2. a secret revealed
3. Smallville and/or Martha and Jonathan
Preferred season(s): S1, S2, S3
Three things I do not want in my fic:
1. an argument
2. songfic
3. Dan or Mayson
"The Rest of the Story" is the series of radio programs by Paul Harvey in which he tells a story with a twist in it. I’m sure a Google search would turn some up. I remember listening many a time in the car on the way home with my dad. Some of you may not have heard of him, but that's okay
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