Smallville: 8/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
After several minutes, Tony turned and headed into his bedroom to pick out clean clothing for the day. A quick shower and shave, he thought, would wake him up and help him think. Whatever this was definitely wasn't on the up and up. If he went to the police, that might be the end of it. He wasn't going to do that, though, at least not right away. But maybe his soon-to-be boss would have some ideas about what to do. He certainly had more experience with cloak and dagger stuff than Tony did. At the very least, Perry White could give him some advice on the subject. Besides, if there was a story in this, the Daily Planet should be the paper to have it and it wouldn't hurt if he brought it to his new boss's attention.
Fifteen minutes later he left the apartment, the envelope under his arm. Five minutes after the door had closed, the phone in his apartment began to ring, but there was no one to hear it.
**********
And now, Part 8:
Lois finished the last bite of pumpkin pie and pushed her plate back a few inches. Around her, the denizens of Smallville were polishing off the remains of the huge feast put together by the citizens of the town. Martha had told her that just about every household in town had supplied at least one dish, and some more than one. A number of families that couldn't afford to do so found ways to contribute to the effort, such as assisting with the decorations and in the presentation of the dinner.
In the next room, the dance band was warming up. Lois had wondered at first what a country band would be like, but had discovered the music presented today at the various events to have been as good as any she had heard by professional musicians in Metropolis. Her opinion of the "simple country folk" of Smallville had gone through a number of changes today.
Clark, seated to her right, loosened his belt and sighed happily. "I still say Mom's apple pie is the best I ever tasted anywhere in the world," he remarked.
Lois had to agree. Martha Kent was definitely a world class cook. It figured, she thought. If she asked, Martha would probably admit reluctantly that she had studied cooking with some great French chef over a summer vacation or something. It was getting so she took nothing about Clark's mother for granted.
"More pie?" a voice at her elbow inquired hopefully. Lois looked up to see Eleanor Harris, Rachel's sister, standing there with the dessert cart.
Lois shook her head. "I'm stuffed. I'm going to have to move into my gym for a week to work off this dinner, anyway."
Eleanor laughed. "No you won't. Not if you do any dancing, tonight."
Clark raised his eyebrows at her. "She's right, you know. You aren't going to leave me here all alone, are you?"
"Not on your life," Lois told him. She had already seen Lana Lang, four tables away, glance at him several times during dinner. There was no way she intended to leave so Lana could spend half the evening dancing with Clark.
She stood up to take her plates and cups to the large trash bin by the kitchen, followed by Clark. He took her arm when she had disposed of the debris. "Shall we go in to the dance, my dear?"
The way he waggled his eyebrows let her know that he was teasing her and she found herself giggling as he escorted her toward the door toward which several couples were already gravitating.
"Shouldn't we help with the cleanup?" she asked.
He shook his head. "They don't want us in there getting in the way. Mom went to put together the stuff for Wayne and Nettie, and a couple of others who weren't here, but most of the cleanup is already done." He waved to the dance band that had begun to play "Jingle Bell Rock." "Shall we?"
"Okay," she agreed, following him onto the dance floor. "Have you been keeping track of Rachel, by the way?"
He nodded. "And listening in on the reports her deputies are sending her. So far no one has seen anything unusual. I'll take a look over the town in a little while, when I can get away without being noticed."
"Hey, Clark," a male voice said behind them. "I didn't know you were here."
Lois and Clark turned to see a man of about Clark's age, with reddish-blond hair standing behind them. Lois glanced at Clark.
"Hi, Pete," Clark said with a wide grin. "I didn't figure your boss would let you off long enough to come home for Christmas."
"Oh, he let us go yesterday," Pete said. He looked at Lois. "Since Clark won't do the honors, I'm Pete Ross. Clark and I were best friends in high school."
Clark laughed. "Yeah, and Pete was one of the biggest ladies' men on campus," he said. "This is Lois, my reporting partner at the Daily Planet. Her family is sort of scattered this Christmas, so I brought her to Smallville for an old-fashioned country Christmas with Mom and Dad."
"Pleased to meet you," Pete said. He grinned. "Care to dance?"
"Hey!" Clark said, indignantly. "We haven't even had a chance to dance yet!"
Pete's eyebrows went up. "In that case, how about the next one?"
"Sure," Lois said. She gave Clark an innocent look. "After all, I still have to get the real dirt on you, Kent."
Pete shook his head. "Sorry. With Clark here, what you see is what you get. I never met such a boy scout in my life."
"Gee, thanks, pal," Clark said. "Come on, Lois, let's dance."
Jingle Bell Rock was finishing, and the next dance was a waltz. Lois found that, as might be expected, Clark was an experienced dancer and as light on his feet as he had been earlier that day during the country dance. When the music ended, Lois sighed faintly, a little sorry that she had agreed to dance with Pete. "You're a wonderful dancer, Clark."
He smiled, leading her off the dance floor. "I learned to waltz from a Nigerian princess."
She shook her head in amusement. "Nothing about you surprises me anymore. Who are you going to dance with while I'm dancing with your friend?"
"I thought," Clark said quietly, "I'd take the chance to deliver the food Mom got together for Wayne and Nettie, and then look around the town a little to see what I can see."
"You'll let me know if you find anything, won't you?"
He nodded. "You bet. And maybe Wayne will tell me whatever it was he wanted to when we were there earlier."
"Yeah." Lois frowned slightly. "That was the strangest conversation I'd heard in quite a while."
"Me too. But we'll find out what's up. At least it isn't likely to be some kind of criminal operation like this other thing."
"Probably not," Lois agreed. "You know, I'd really like a little peace, just for a few days. Ever since we met we've been going practically non-stop."
"Well," Clark said, "maybe it'll turn out to be something we can handle nice and quick, and then get back to enjoying Christmas. And after the New Year, Henderson plans to indict you-know-who, and we can make our own announcement."
"That's true," she agreed. "At least that might discourage Cat. You don't suppose she really would show up in Smallville, do you?"
"I sure *hope* not!" Clark said, his face a study in comical dismay.
Pete Ross appeared suddenly beside them. "They're starting the next dance," he informed Clark with a grin. "Now's my chance to get acquainted with your beautiful partner, pal. Shall we, Lois?"
"All right." She cast a glance over her shoulder at Clark as Pete led her back onto the dance floor. "Be careful."
"I will," he said.
The next dance was another waltz. As they took their places, Lois saw her partner make his way quietly toward the kitchen and disappear through the door. Pete smiled down at her. "So," he said, in quite another tone from his earlier one, "you're Clark's new partner at the Daily Planet. That means you're Lois Lane, correct?"
"Yes," she said, a little surprised. "Why?"
Pete led her into the first steps with faultless grace. "I don't know, really. I'd heard from Jennifer, here at the Smallville Press, that Clark had gotten hired at the Daily Planet a few weeks ago, and I made a point to buy the paper. The two of you have been pretty busy the last few weeks. I'm glad Clark is doing so well. He wanted to try for a big city paper for years, but he got roped into the editor's spot at the Press after Tom got killed in that accident. I guess he finally decided to take the plunge. Clark's a darn good journalist."
"Yes," Lois said. "He is. He's the best investigative journalist I've ever met -- except maybe for my editor, but I'm not even sure of that."
Pete raised an eyebrow. "I guess you think a lot of him."
Lois nodded emphatically. "Perry has stuck me with partners before, but Clark is the only one I ever asked to have as a partner. He's phenomenal."
Pete smiled faintly. "I'm glad you think so. Clark's had kind of a hard time when we were kids; not that he'd ever admit it."
Lois looked down. "I figured that out."
Pete was silent for a time as they danced. "You like him, don't you?" he said finally.
Lois nodded.
"Good," Pete said. He spun her around and dipped her backwards. "I just wanted to know."
They danced in silence for several minutes. Finally Lois said, "You don't have to look out for him, you know."
A slight laugh. "Why do you think I'm doing that?"
"You are, aren't you?"
Pete shrugged. "Kind of. Clark was always a bit of a loner. He's a good guy. I don't want to see him get hurt."
Lois remembered suddenly what Maisie had said. "Everyone knows everything about everybody in Smallville, honey." Obviously someone had been talking to Pete Ross about Clark Kent's new partner. "Well, you don't have to worry about me," she said tartly.
"Actually, I don't think I do," Pete said. He dipped her again.
"So," Lois said, firmly changing the subject, "what do you do?"
"I'm a police inspector in Topeka," Pete said.
"Oh," Lois said. "I guess that figures."
Pete gave her a one-sided smile. "We cops are almost as snoopy as investigative reporters, you know."
"I can tell," Lois said. "Now I know how you knew my name."
"Got it in one," Pete said.
"Oh well," Lois said, somewhat resigned, "I guess it figures. But don't spread the word that I'm here in Smallville, will you not? Nobody back in Metropolis is supposed to know about it."
"Oh?" Pete looked curious, but nodded. "In that case, mum's the word."
"It's not anything like what you're probably thinking," Lois said, a little defensively.
He gave that one-sided smile again. "We're talking about my Boy Scout best friend," he said. "I knew that before you said a word."
**********
Clark slipped through the door to the kitchen, where Maisie and several other women, as well as his mother, were moving around, putting the finishing touches on the cleanup. "Hey, Mom," he said, "I thought I'd take that box of stuff you put together for Wayne and Nettie over to them while I have time."
"Oh, good," Martha Kent said. "But how about Lois?"
"She's dancing with Pete right now," Clark told her. "I'll take the food over and come right back. It probably won't take more than half an hour." Or less, but he didn't say that out loud.
His mother nodded. "This is it, right here," she said, indicating a large, cardboard box, carefully covered with aluminum foil that had been taped securely to the sides. Clark could smell the aromas of the still warm food inside and decided that it would probably do Nettie good if she could have some of the dinner the women of Smallville had prepared for Christmas Eve. "Nettie's flu probably won't be able to stand up to this," he said with a smile.
"You tell her to have some of the soup before she starts in on the turkey," Maisie said. "And the eggnog will kill any flu bug, guaranteed."
"Even if it doesn't," Martha said, "after a couple of glasses, she won't care so much."
Several of the other women laughed. So did Clark. He took the box and carefully backed out the kitchen door and made his way toward the exit. Lois, he saw, was still dancing with Pete. She had a faintly irritated look on her face which made him hope that his best friend wouldn't be too snoopy about her presence in Smallville with him. The Smallville grapevine was certainly already buzzing about Lois, and Pete had no doubt already heard enough to pique his curiosity. Pete had always seemed to regard Clark as a slightly younger brother whom he, Pete, needed to look out for. Lois might not appreciate it if he asked too many questions. He'd take Pete aside after he got back and explain the situation, he decided, if Lois didn't mind. That should alleviate any concern on his mind.
Once outside, Clark stepped out of the lighted area in front of the Smallville Community Center and ducked around the corner of Tester's Dry Goods. An instant later he was in the air, gliding like a ghost over the lights of the town, high enough to be invisible if anyone happened to look up. It didn't seem likely with the light dusting of snow falling, but he was learning from Lois not to assume anything. Instantly, he set a course for Wayne Irig's farm.
The lights were still on at the Irig place, Clark saw, and he could hear someone moving around in the kitchen when he landed just behind the barn. Quickly, he trotted through the snow to the short walk, which had apparently been shoveled a couple of hours before, since it was accumulating another light dusting of snow atop the gravel, and made his way up the steps onto the wooden porch. He knocked.
The movement in the kitchen paused, and then he heard the swinging door from the Irig kitchen into the living room swing open and footsteps crossed the thin carpet that had covered the floor of the farmhouse living room as long as Clark could remember.
The door opened, and Wayne Irig peered out. "Clark?"
"Hi, Wayne," Clark said. "Mom wanted me to bring by some of the food from the Party. How's Nettie?"
Irig opened the door wider, allowing him to enter. "She's feelin' some better," he said. "Come on in."
Clark did so, and Irig quickly closed the door behind him. A fire blazed in the stone fireplace, making the room warm and cozy with the firelight flickering on the walls. Clark could smell the Christmassy odor of the four-foot tree that stood in one corner.
His neighbor started to take the box, but Clark shook his head. "Just tell me where to put it," he said.
"I guess the kitchen table's best," Wayne said. "I smell mince pie."
"Not to mention apple pie, and some of Mom's pumpkin pie," Clark said, following him into the kitchen. "There's enough to feed you and Nettie through tomorrow, if she still doesn't feel like cooking. Maisie said Nettie should have some of the soup -- and the eggnog."
"I'll take her some," Wayne said.
Clark set the box on the kitchen table. "Here you go."
"That partner of yours isn't here, is she?" Wayne asked suddenly.
"No," Clark said. "You really don't need to worry about her, though. She's a good friend of mine."
"Maybe not good enough," Irig said. "I wanted to talk to you alone."
"What about?"
"A couple of weeks ago there was a bad storm here," he said. "Real bad. Blew down the oak tree out back."
"You told me that this afternoon," Clark said.
"Yeah, but I didn't tell you the rest," Irig said. "Last week there was a bit of a thaw. I found somethin'. Musta been buried deep, way down under the roots o' the tree -- but it came up when the tree did. It's somethin' you need to see."
"Okay," Clark said, thoroughly mystified. "Where is it?"
"I got it out in the barn," Irig said. "Might as well show you now. Come on."
**********
tbc
