So, here is my other story! This is a winter/Christmas story, so you can see how long it has taken me to finish it... maybe it will help those of you in very hot climates feel a bit cooler.
Thanks as always to my betas, Kenj and Female Hawk!
Takes place Season 1. Some dialogue taken from “The green, green glow of home,” written by Bryce Zabel
*Snowy Secrets*“I can’t believe I let Perry convince me there was a worthwhile story in Smallville!” I muttered under my breath for probably the hundredth time since we left Metropolis.
Clark just gave me a patient smile, which was just this close to smug, and I almost wanted to slap it right off his face. “Lois, you know that Perry asked you if you’d rather stay in Metropolis for Christmas… you had the chance to back out.”
He was right, and I bit my tongue. I supposed spending Christmas out in Smallville on a story was better than dealing with my parents. I had jumped at the chance to escape. It didn’t mean I had to like it.
I grumbled as we got into the rental car, regretting my hasty decision. I wondered if we were going to have to drive far to get to Clark´s parents’ house. It will no doubt be in the middle of nowhere. They probably won’t even have electricity!
“Lois, I can practically hear your thoughts screaming out how horrible this all is. Look, I’m sorry, but Perry sent us out here on assignment. If you loosen up just a bit, you might even have some fun. Smallville is really nice at Christmas.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “We’re here for work, not ‘fun’!” I said snidely, glaring out the window.
Reluctantly I let out a sigh, knowing I wasn’t being entirely fair to Clark. To be honest, I was just nervous about spending so much time with him and his family. I kept waiting for him to prove to me that he was like all the other men I’ve known – and especially the good-looking ones. They were usually the worst. But somehow, Clark had yet to show a sign that he’s really one of those guys… and maybe that’s what scared me more.
“So, how far is it to your parents’ place?” I asked a few minutes later, in an attempt at civility. I had been pretty close to being a raving banshee up to now and was starting to feel guilty. I didn’t want Clark’s parents to think I was a stuck-up city girl.
“Less than an hour. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Lois. Feel free to turn on the radio, if you want.”
Did he have to be so accommodating all the time? Didn’t the man have any flaws?
I knew that I was full of them… and being mean to Clark for no reason was definitely one of them.
I flipped on the radio…
”I need a hero… He’s got to be strong and he’s got to be fast and he’s got to…” I switched the dial...
“...shaping up, could hit the Smallville area by late tonight or early tomorrow morning. Expect 6-8 inches.”“Of
snow?” I blurted. “Great. I’ll be stuck in Nowheresville for a month,” I grumbled, forgetting my earlier pledge to try to be more pleasant.
I glanced at Clark and could see a slight smile playing on his lips. “It probably won’t be that bad, Lois. We usually don’t get the really bad storms until January or February. I don’t think you need to worry.”
“Well, just in case, maybe we should stop and get some supplies. Is there a Cost-mart between here and your folks’?” I asked hopefully. Surely, we weren’t that far removed from civilization!
“No, there’s not a Cost-mart in Smallville… However, we can stop downtown if you want. It’s on the way.”
~L&C~
Clark was so patient that it was galling. Most men hated shopping in all its forms. But he just waited for me at the checkout, making small talk with the shop owner, who apparently Clark knew personally.
Small towns make me nervous. I feel too conspicuous. Give me the anonymity of a big city any day. Here, I can’t imagine having people wanting to know about every facet of my life. Or the gossip that inevitably emerges if I decide to wear sweats to go grocery shopping. Even though I spend my life learning about the news of the day and digging into people’s business, I don’t like the idea of people digging into mine. Call me a hypocrite, but that is just the way I feel.
Eventually, I laid my survival kit on the checkout belt. Everything from ice cream to cereal. All stuff I could manage preparing on my own if I had to.
“My mom will probably have plenty of food for us, Lois,” Clark commented, obviously trying to sound diplomatic about my choices.
“I don’t want your parents feeling obligated to take care of me. And be sure to tell them the Planet will reimburse them for any added expense I’ll cause,” I said magnanimously.
“Lois, my parents are happy to have you,” he said in that soothing voice of his, the one that I sometimes could feel to my toes and often made me want to be mean to him – mean because I was terrified of how his voice pleasantly affected me.
I moved past him to the cashier, his chest suddenly like a wall that was blocking me. I didn’t look at him as I brushed past, feeling my cheeks flush red at the close contact. “I just want to be sure I’m contributing,“ I said, waiting to see the total. “Oh, Clark! Batteries! I almost forgot! Would you mind grabbing me a pack? I’d hate to be stuck in a farmhouse with a foot of snow and no batteries.”
~L&C~
“I can’t believe all that food only cost $18! You could never get away with those prices in Metropolis,” I said, eying my receipt appreciatively as we made our way back to the car.
Clark instantly took over and helped put the bags in the trunk. He was doing it again – being a nice guy. I got that jumpy feeling, that I should insult him or make a joke, or find some way to distance myself from how he made me feel. But instead I got in the passenger seat and surreptitiously watched him in the rearview mirror.
Actually, all I could see was the expanse of his wide shoulders as he moved bags around, but the rippling of his muscles was oddly fascinating. He’s always so… mild-mannered. I forgot how in-shape he was sometimes… Though there was that one time, when he had first moved to Metropolis and was living at the Hotel Apollo. I had caught him just as he had come out of the shower in a towel… Now that—
Clark climbed back in the car, which was a good thing, because my thoughts had been moving into dangerous territory.
“So, why do you think the government is involved in small town pesticides, huh? Perry wouldn’t have sent us out here if he didn’t think it was for a good reason,” I rambled, thinking that talking about work was safer than letting my mind wander.
“I don’t know, Lois. But we’ll find out.”
~L&C~
Eventually we pulled into a long driveway, literally in the middle of a cornfield. I had never felt so out of my element before.
I got out of the car and headed to the trunk to help bring in the groceries, but Clark was already unloading them. “Don’t worry, Lois. I’ve got it. My parents are eager to meet you.”
No sooner had he said that, than they appeared on the front porch.
“Clark!” called a diminutive woman, who I assumed was his mother. She was wearing an apron, and as we approached the house, I could smell a delicious home cooked meal being prepared inside. I felt a little ashamed about my pathetic contributions to the pantry, seeing that the Kents were indeed prepared to feed me as well.
“You must be Lois,” she gushed as she came closer. I reached to shake her hand, but she pulled me down for a hug. “Nonsense! We hug around here. Clark has told us so much about you!”
He had, had he? I glanced at him, but I couldn’t see his eyes as the porch light was reflected off his glasses.
“Here, Clark, let me help you,” his mom offered, and I suddenly felt totally out of place, not carrying anything but my purse.
“Can I take something?” I asked, but they both told me not to worry.
I walked up the porch and into the house, immediately struck by how settled in and homey their farmhouse felt. I could already see they were so different from my family… who were divorced and living in multiple homes. I felt a slight tightening in my throat, looking around, seeing family photos and evidence of a loving home all around. An afghan that Mrs. Kent had probably made lay on the sofa. Clark’s high school football trophies lined the mantle. A picture of a fishing trip with Mr. Kent and Clark sat perched on a bookshelf.
They had even put up a Christmas tree, blending into the country hominess of the place. It wasn’t very big, but it filled the room with warmth and light, and I could see the ornaments were a hodgepodge collected over the years, each obviously tied to a pleasant holiday memory.
I suddenly felt so small and unworthy. I was always so petty and even mean to Clark, thinking that he had ulterior motives whenever he was nice to me. But I was beginning to see that with him, maybe what you see is what you get – just a nice guy with wonderful parents.
And that’s why the guilt of how I’ve been treating him is now eating me alive.
~L&C~
The Kents warmly welcomed me into their home.
I felt more like a friend or even girlfriend of Clark’s than his work partner, and I secretly admitted to myself that it wasn’t such a bad feeling.
Over dinner, we chatted about Clark growing up on the farm, and I said as little as possible about my own dysfunctional family. I laughed at their stories, and every now and then would catch Clark watching me, as if he’d never seen me before. I guess I hadn’t shown this side of myself so much when we were at work. I was always constantly on my guard and hunting down the next story.
Sitting around the Kent kitchen table, I felt the protective wall I had built up around myself start to crack, ever so slightly.
~L&C~
After dinner, Clark and his dad went out to the barn to go look at something. I stayed behind and helped Martha clean up the dishes.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said sincerely, not used to people doing such nice things for me. "That was really wonderful. Though you didn’t have to go through all that trouble."
“Nonsense! We are happy to have you here. You don’t have to help clean up either. If you’re tired you can go straight upstairs—“
“No, please. Let me help clean up. It’s the least I can do,” I said, gamely reaching for a sponge and turning on the water. I was used to using a dishwasher, but I really was grateful and wanted to help.
“Martha!” I heard coming from outside. It sounded like Mr. Kent, and he sounded like it was urgent.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry. It’s probably just the cow’s water bucket got knocked over again,” she said with a smile, quickly moving out the back door.
I continued to wash the dishes, but I was instantly intrigued by what was happening out back. I couldn’t see anything from my vantage point, but I was close enough to the barn that if I turned off the water, maybe I could hear something.
I stopped washing the dishes and leaned over the sink towards the window. I couldn’t really hear anything happening in the barn.
Eventually I saw all three Kents heading back into the house, and I immediately turned the water back on and started washing again, not wanting to appear as if I had been curious at all as to what had gone on.
“Is everything all right?”I asked as they entered the kitchen.
“Everything’s fine, Lois. Just---Clark’s not feeling all that well.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yeah, um, a cold, I think,” said Mr. Kent.
“Sorry to hear that, Clark,” I said, though my reporter’s instinct was telling me that something was off. The urgency in Mr. Kent’s call earlier had seemed to warrant a much more dramatic response than just cold medicine. But I let it slide… for now.
Clark wasn’t really looking at me but he said, “I think I’m just going to head to bed now. Lois, you can have my room and I’ll sleep down here.”
“Oh, but Clark, if you’re not feeling well, wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?” I asked. Clark was definitely chivalrous to a fault.
He shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m going to watch TV until I fall asleep. Goodnight, Lois.”
“Goodnight,” I said, turning off the tap as I finished the last of the dishes.
“Come, Lois. I’ll show you to your room,” Mrs. Kent offered.
As we headed up the stairs, I watched helplessly as a miserable Clark flopped onto the sofa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was wallowing. But over what, I had no idea. Surely not just over a cold.
~L&C~
“Now, Jonathan and I have to leave early in the morning. He has a doctor’s appointment in Wichita, but we’ll be back by the afternoon,” Mrs. Kent told me as she handed me a fresh stack of towels. “You just make yourself at home.”
“But what about the snowstorm that’s coming?”
“Don’t worry about us. If it gets bad before we head back, we’ll stay at a hotel. We still have two whole days before Christmas Eve. Goodnight, dear.”
I watched her walk down the hall and couldn’t help but feel a little trepidation. If the Kents stayed in Wichita, that would mean that Clark and I would be here alone. And while I didn’t think I had anything to fear from being with Clark alone, I worried if I could handle it. I didn’t want to be the bossy partner that I usually was with him at work, and I certainly didn’t want to be his nursemaid if he was sick… but it was possible that being those other things… being more than a partner, and getting to know him on a deeper level that had me worried.
I quickly headed to the bathroom to change for bed and brush my teeth, contemplating being alone with Clark. We had already done a few stakeouts together, and secretly I admit that we had had a good time. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, on his home turf? I feared facing things that I had felt in passing about Clark. Things that I had always been too afraid to closely examine.
I sighed. One thing at a time. We still had a story to do. Just focus on work like you always do and everything will be fine.
I switched off the bathroom light and made my way to Clark’s room. It wasn’t very big, but it was cozy. There were lots of pictures of him growing up all around the room. I noticed one of him in high school, his arm wrapped around a girl. I was almost relieved to see this evidence of his womanizing past. Sure it was high school, but come on. Was anyone really as innocent as Clark pretended to be?
Eventually I climbed into bed. Unbidden thoughts hit me as I realized this is Clark’s bed, and though the sheets were fresh and clean, I imagined I could smell his Clark-ness somehow on the pillow. I found it oddly comforting, as I reached to turn off the side lamp.
It didn’t take me long before I drifted off to sleep.
~L&C~
I woke up, noticing how oddly quiet the house was. There was no roar of street noise, no blaring alarm. Just the calm country quiet. I found it a little unsettling. Wasn’t there such thing as too much quiet?
I got out of bed and was surprised to see slippers by the bed. Had Mrs. Kent left them here for me? That made me remember her plan to go to Wichita and I immediately got up to check the weather outside. There was just a dusting of snow on the ground, and it didn’t seem to even really be sticking. The Kents’ truck was gone, so I assumed they’d left, but if the snow kept falling at this pace, they’d probably be back by this evening.
I was relieved, honestly, that I wouldn’t be stuck alone with Clark this evening. I just thought the potential for disaster was too high… I’d either make an idiot of myself or he’d get on my nerves. Having the Kents here would be a nice buffer.
I slung on my robe and bounded happily down the stairs. I glanced at the sofa, but Clark was up and about, so I guess he wasn’t that sick. The smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee reached my nose and I immediately headed to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Lois. Would you like some breakfast?” Clark asked, wearing one of his mom’s floral aprons around his waist over his sweatpants and a t-shirt. My eyes went helplessly to his biceps as he flipped the bacon, and I was distressed by how comforting I found his display of masculine domesticity.
“Clark Kent can cook?” I teased, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Well, that must be the biggest well-kept secret of the year!”
He gave me a look, his mouth slightly gaping like a guppy, and I laughed. “What? What did I say?”
“Nothing,” he answered, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he turned back to the frying pan. A few seconds later, he brought me a plate. “I’ll get you some coffee, too. How did you sleep?” he asked, reaching for a mug.
I hadn’t realized it until he asked me, but I had slept really well. Nothing had woken me during the night. In Metropolis, I usually get out of bed at least once to go to the bathroom. But here, I hadn’t stirred all night.
“Um, not bad. You?” I hedged, taking the mug of coffee he had fixed for me.
“Yeah. Not bad. I always sleep pretty well at my folks’.”
“Are you feeling better this morning?”
Clark put salt and pepper on the table and then fixed his plate before sitting down across from me. “Uh, yeah, sort of. But… definitely not back to normal yet.”
He seemed to be acting like the tough guy who hates getting sick, and I snickered. “Clark, it’s okay if you aren’t feeling well. Everyone gets sick,” I said, thinking I was being very generous.
“Yeah, I suppose,” he said glumly, his fork meandering through his scrambled eggs.
I rolled my eyes. Men could be such babies.
“So, what should we do to look into this pesticide thing?”I asked, noticing Clark had also set out toast, butter, and what looked like homemade strawberry jam. I could get used to eating like this…
“Well, we should definitely get an early start. The snow is light on the ground now, but I think we should be home by early afternoon, just in case it picks up.”
I glanced outside. The dusting on the ground seemed very non-threatening. “I think the forecaster overstated his case. There is barely anything going on out there.”
“Lois, trust me. We’ll go see my friend Rachel Harris, and then do some research back here, before the weather gets bad. She’s already putting together the pesticide history of the last ten years for us to go through, to have something to compare this to.”
“Papers on pesticides? Be still my heart,” I grumbled. “Can we at least stop at the video store? If we do end up holed up here tonight, I want to have something to do.”
“Well, my parents already arranged to stay in Wichita. Dad couldn’t delay his appointment. He’d been trying to arrange to meet with this cardiologist for months… but we’ll be all right. We have a whole wall of board games,” he grinned at me. “And I’d like a rematch.”
“You’re on, buster. If we have to pore over pesticide reports, then the least you can do is lose yet another game to me.”
~L&C~
Rachel Harris immediately got on my nerves.
She simply gushed all over Clark, and it didn’t help that I recognized her from the photo I had seen in Clark’s room the previous night.
Apparently, they had dated. Albeit a long time ago, but still. She had had her chance, and it was time for her to move on!
It didn’t help that Clark was his usual charming self with her. He would laugh self-deprecatingly at her mention of old memories and flash his megawatt smiles at her that for some reason, I had believed he had reserved for me.
It made me feel very petty and perhaps just a little bit jealous. But why? I had done all I could to distance myself from Clark. He was the hack from Nowheresville, and I was the seasoned reporter. He was Mr. Green Jeans, and I was Top Banana. Now why all the sudden did I feel just a bit irritated that someone else should be privy to his charm and good humor?
It didn’t make any sense, and it just made me feel grumpier as we left the sheriff’s office where Rachel worked.
Add to that, we now had a stack of files a mile high to dig through -- on pesticides, no less!
“I knew that coming out to Smallville would be a waste of time. I mean, pesticide reports? Really?” I groused as we got in the car.
“We need all the background research we can get. It was really generous of Rachel to give them to us. They usually aren’t readily available to the public.”
“Who is this Rachel Harris to you anyway?” I asked, and then immediately blanched, realizing how I had sounded.
Clark flashed me a smug look, enjoying that he had caught me out. “Is someone jealous?” he teased.
I crossed my arms and then angrily reached for my seatbelt. “No, of course not! Why should I be? I just never heard of her before today, that’s all. And I saw an old picture of the two of you in your room and I—I—just wondered. No big deal.”
Oh, God. Could he see my cheeks flush red? I did a quick glance in the mirror and indeed could see a red stain on my cheeks. Damn my fair skin.
“No big deal,” he echoed, still apparently enjoying my discomfiture. I wanted to slap him. After a moment, he conceded. “Rachel and I did date – but it was a long time ago. We’re just good friends now,” he admitted. Then when I didn’t respond, “Happy now?”
“I told you, I don’t care. Why would I care about
your love life, Clark? Past or present!”
I stared glumly outside, noticing the sky was starting to darken, much like my mood. I felt trapped, and I couldn’t explain why. I was jumpy and nervous and agitated, and I didn’t want to be any of those things. Seeing Clark flirt with someone else had upset me, and I was afraid to look at the reasons why. Maybe I was a little jealous, though I certainly wouldn’t admit it to Clark. And now, as snow started falling, I started feeling jittery at the thought of spending the night alone with him.
Another shot of fear went through me. What if this got back to the newsroom? It would be like Claude all over again, and I’d be humiliated, even if nothing happened between us. I’d never live it down that I had spent the night with Clark Kent, one way or the other. Either I would be thought of as a slut, or an ice queen for not giving in.
We were heading towards the edge of town, and there was still another five miles or so before we got to the farm. I was tempted to ask Clark to drop me at a hotel. But I quickly thought through the implications of that, and Perry would be angry if I expensed it, especially when we had a perfectly good offer at the Kents’. Besides, at Christmas, even nowhere Smallville likely had all the local hotels already booked.
The edge of the town passed us by, and there was nothing but rows of cornfields for miles. Snow was starting to fall heavier, and with a sigh, I realized I was stuck.
~L&C~
I was quiet all the rest of the way back to the farmhouse, uncomfortable with the prospect of facing Clark and snow all alone. Yet this was Clark we were talking about. I knew he wouldn’t maul me in the hallway, and yet a part of me sort of wanted something to happen between us. And maybe that’s why I was scared. I really liked Clark, and despite how I’ve treated him, I thought that to some extent, he liked me too.
We were definitely friends, and yet I remembered when he first came to the Planet, and we were up late one night eating Chinese, he had looked at me like he may have been interested in more. I had doused that fire even before it had started, and now—what did I want?
I sighed, starting to daydream. Superman… that’s who I wanted. My heart was ready and available for him. But even I knew Superman was in some ways the easier choice. The ideal man was always easy to love… but Clark?
I swallowed something uncomfortable in my throat at the thought. Could I ever love Clark?
“Well, we’re here. Just in time, too. It’s really starting to pick up,” he said, jostling me out of my daydream.
I fought the urge to say something biting, realizing suddenly that I didn’t want to be crabby old Lois anymore. Seeing him flirt with Rachel Harris today had made me sit up and look at something I hadn’t wanted to admit. I really liked Clark. And suddenly, I really wanted him to like me, too.
