Yeah yeah yeah...
And this is completely unbetad again except for Queenie's squees and smilies in IRC again [see? You guys should really show up there more often...]
So without further ado, part two of a one-parter...
Last time"Just a minute!" came a decidedly female voice from the other room.
He set down his suitcase and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his Dockers.
Footsteps neared. "So, how can I help you?"
He looked back towards the little check in desk to see a beautiful young woman standing there, wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing a pink checked apron covered in flour. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her golden brown eyes held something – slight irritation, perhaps?
"I have reservations for tonight," he told her.
"Name?"
"Clark Lane," he told her pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
She glanced at the book in front of her. "Hello, Mr. Lane. I'm Lois. Welcome to Kent Farms."
*~*2*~*Lois tried to avoid staring as she checked him in.
Her mom wouldn't appreciate it if another guest complained about one of the Kent girls ogling him. Of course, it was always Lucy doing the ogling, but that wouldn't matter to Martha Kent. Lois knew better. You were to smile, be polite and friendly but not ogle. Never ogle.
This was the first time in a very long time that she'd been tempted to risk the wrath of mom in order to get a better look at a guest. The last time had been when Joe Malloy of the San Francisco 49ers showed up about two years earlier. And that had been more because of the celebrity factor than... hotness.
She handed him the form to fill out – pretty standard stuff but glancing over it gave her some insight into his life. Clark Lane, 26, from Metropolis. Daily Planet employee. That piqued her interest. She was the editor of the Smallville Press – for the moment, at least, while Bill was on his extended vacation.
"Is there something wrong?"
She looked up, slightly startled. "Excuse me?"
He sighed. "Do I not have a reservation or something? Is my name spelled wrong? Do you not give rooms to guys from the Big Apricot? I know it's kind of a girlie fruit name, but honestly, my boss told me this is where I was supposed to be." He ran a hand through his hair. "This is great," he muttered. "Just great."
"No, sir. Everything's in order, your reservation is here and even if it wasn't you're our only guest this evening so there would be plenty of room for you."
"So what's the problem?"
"There is no problem." She gave him her best smile. "I was just noticing that you work for the Daily Planet. I'm the editor of the local paper at the moment."
He smiled, politely and little more, she was sure. "That's great."
She stifled a sigh. "Would you like me to take your bag for you? I'll show you to your room and then, if you're hungry, Mom would be happy to make you something."
"You haven't eaten dinner yet?" He picked up his own bag and waited for her to go to the stairs.
She started up them. "We have, but we knew you were coming and didn't know for sure what time you'd get in. Your flight was delayed. Mom has food from tonight's dinner in the warmer for you or there's probably leftovers from earlier this week if you want them instead."
"Your mom cooks?"
"Actually, I made tonight's dinner."
"Is it safe to eat?"
His voice had taken on a light teasing tone, though she could hear the underlying strain.
"It's very safe to eat." She stopped at the end of the hall. "This room is on the north west side of the house so you won't get as much morning sun. You're welcome to look around and take another room if you'd like and you're welcome to look around the farm, just make sure to stay out of the south pasture – Dad's got a mean ol' bull in there that would sooner gore you than anything."
"I'll remember that."
Lois turned as he set his bag down in the room. "If you're hungry, come on down. Down the stairs, kitchen is across the living room to the right."
"Thanks."
She headed to the kitchen, just in time to hear the timer going off. She opened the oven and carefully pulled the apple pie out of the oven.
"Get him checked in?" Martha Kent walked into the kitchen, her arms full of ears of corn.
"Yeah. Put him in the northwest corner – seemed like he'd had a rough trip. His flight was at least two hours late and it took him about five hours to get here after it landed so..." She shrugged and turned the temperature down on the stove before putting a tray of cookies in. "He works for the Daily Planet."
Martha looked up at that. "What're they doing in our neck of the woods?"
Lois shrugged again. "Who knows? They're the Daily Planet – they cover the world, remember?"
Martha wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and rested her head on Lois' upper arm. "Jealous?" she asked quietly.
Lois shook her head vehemently. "No. Not jealous just..."
"Jealous?"
She sighed and nodded. "Maybe a bit. But I was needed here so here I am. I'll make it; it's just taking a bit longer than I'd hoped. Midwest isn't exactly a hotbed of journalism recruiting for major papers and running the Smallville Press isn't going to get me much investigative experience but..." She wrapped an arm around the smaller woman. "I love you and Dad and if you needed me, you needed me. You still do."
"I'm sorry about that, sweetheart."
"I know." She turned so her mom wouldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes.
"Don’t try to hide from me. I powdered your tush. I know how badly you want to be in Metropolis, working for a big paper, making a name for yourself."
Lois turned another sigh into a slight laugh. "You know me better than I know myself."
"I'm your mom, of course I do."
Lois gave her mom a big hug. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too, sweetie. So, trying to butter this guy up with some of your award winning chocolate cookies?" She reached over and popped one of the cookie dough balls into her mouth.
"Mom! Those have raw eggs in them?"
"And then there's less for you to eat later?"
"Does everyone know about my penchant for chocolate chip cookies?" she whined.
"Besides," Martha continued, as though Lois hadn't said anything else. "The odds of encountering salmonella in an egg from a chicken we hand fed as a chick are about the same as sane people believing in UFOs pre-Superman. And even if I did, I'm not very young, very old or very sick already so I'd be just fine."
Lois rolled her eyes and snapped a towel in Martha's direction. Martha responded by snapping a towel back as they both dissolved into giggles.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Lois looked up to see their very attractive guest in the doorway and he looked like he was trying to smother a grin.
Lois tried desperately to regain her composure and straightened her apron. "Mr. Lane, can I get you something to eat?"
"Whatever you've got," he said without moving.
"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."
*****
TBC [yes, you read that right...]
FYI... The Smallville/Kent Farm area is based on Neodesha, KS [which really does have Tank Ave. running next to the Jr/High Schools]. Links to maps etc can be found
here . The threads are marked.
