Something I found laying around on my computer the other day. Was written right after the end of season six. Enjoy, and review if you feel obliged.

The cool fall breeze came through the window as he kept his head on a swivel, looking periodically back to the plow

The cool fall breeze came through the window as he kept his head on a swivel, looking periodically back to the plow. With his left hand on the steering wheel, and his right resting firmly on the edge of the control dash, he leaned over to make sure the front tire was in the furrow.

"This is boring."

Clark turned his head to his daughter and smiled. "You were the one who wanted to ride along." When she rolled her eyes, so much her mother's trait, he laughed. "It's not that boring." His eyes went back to the front tire.

"Yes it is. Daddy, I don't know how mom lets you do this." She poked her father's shoulder as he seemed not to listen. "Daddy?"

"I heard you darling." He paused as he looked back to the plow. "Your mom lets me do this because she knows it makes me happy."

"But you're not even going fast."

"It's not about speed. It's about precision." Looking in front again, he pulled on the hitch leaver as he turned the steering wheel quickly. Coming out of the furrow rut, the hitch lifted the plow out of the ground and dragged it along on the back wheel. He kept a keen eye on the last blade in the rear mirror to make sure it came out at the right spot. "Perfect," he commented, smiling to himself as he turned and went down the front of the field.

"What's perfect?"

"The exit." When he saw at his daughter's rather familiar face, he smiled. "The plow came out of the furrow perfectly." Her confusion was evident and he merely chuckled again.

"Why do you keep laughing?"

Pulling up to the back laneway from the field, he turned onto the dusty trail. "You're like your mother. Have I ever told you that?" When she smiled he grinned even wider. "She's a bad influence, Katie."

"Not all of us can go around saving people, dad!" She looked back to he dusty laneway as her father continued to grin. "You keep telling me mom is a bad influence, but I think she's the best."

Clark smiled even wider. His daughter had her mother's sharp wit and intellect, while sharing his compassion and thoughtful nature. She was the perfect blend of them, her black hair and slender shape echoing the very sentiment of what being a Kent was. At six years of age, she was already starting to look more and more like her mother, and her height was reaching that of his own at that age. "So, did you feed the chickens like I asked you too?"

Katie huffed and shifted herself on the left armrest. "Yes, but I could have sworn one of them was going to peck my eyes out."

"Which one?" he asked, indulging her.

"The big one with the red thingy on top."

"Max? I don't think so; he's the oldest rooster on the farm. He's slower than molasses and can barely wake up a mouse when he crows at sunrise."

"He's still scary," she reiterated as she held her dad's shoulder as they hit a large hole in the laneway. "You'd think with your vision you could miss those potholes."

Clark shifted in his seat and scooped her up with his left hand, gently placing her on his right knee. "I'm going to have a talk with your mother about your sarcasm."

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"A lot of things." He laughed softly as he kissed the top of her head.

"Eww. That's gross," Katie said with a sneer, combing her long raven hair out with her fingers. "Mom does that too much already."

"She only does it because she loves you."

"She could just tell me she loves me."

Clark smiled. "You know your mother," he said. When she rolled her eyes again, he shook his head. He really did need to talk to her mother about that. "Here, take the wheel," he suddenly said, dropping his hand from the black round object.

"What?" Katie gasped.

"Hurry, before we run into the barn." The tractor began to move slowly to the right, its angle heading right for the dairy barn.

Katie quickly grabbed the wheel with both hands, her eyes bugging out in shock and wonder.

He quickly shifted down, slowing the tractor to a crawl. His daughter hadn't driven before, and it was best to be careful. A smile split his lips a he heard a sudden giggle come from the back of her throat. She looked as if she was having the time of her life, her attention wrapped up in the magnitude of what she was doing. "Turn here," he said, pointing to the left by the shed.

"Okay," she replied meekly, her eyes still wide. The tractor stopped suddenly as she held on tighter to the steering wheel. "Why did we stop?"

Clark lifted his foot off the clutch after he put it park. He pulled the kill button up and said. "This is where we're parking it." The engine died as he held the button up.

"What's that?" she asked, turning on his knee.

"The kill switch," he answered, pushing the button back down after the engine had cut off.

"Can't you just turn the key back?"

He lifted her off his knee and crawled out of the seat, leaving her by the steering wheel. Opening the door, he climbed down the steps and dropped to the ground softly. "Nope, it can only be turned off with that pull button." He reached up and lifted her from the cab as she walked to the edge. Cradling her with his right hand, he reached over and shut the door. "Now, don't you go telling your friends at school that I let you drive."

"Can I tell mom?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course you can." She wiggled in his arm.

Clark sighed and let her down. She went instantly towards the house, her black hair dancing wildly in the wind as she screamed for her mom. He grinned happily as he walked slowly after her, his eyes watching her the whole time. She was dressed in his old work clothes from his youth. In a pair of old jeans and a ridiculously large flannel shirt, he could have sworn she looked like her mother even more than usual. His eyes drifted to the house as she entered, his grin disappearing as he looked to the old yellow siding. He knew that he would eventually have to build a new house, or do some very sizable upgrades. The century old homestead had taken a good beating over the years.

The sound of a car going down the road ripped his attention from the house. He spied a pick up truck from one of the neighbors heading into town. It disappeared over a small hill and into the slowly setting sun. The cool autumn air struck his face as the leaves rustled in the trees. Fall was in full swing, the crops having been taken off not more than a week ago. Third cut had yet to be taken off, but he had decided to spray round-up on it instead of taking it off again. There was enough hay in the barn as it was.

Lifting himself up the steps of the house, he stopped before opening the screen door. With a loud whistle, he called to Shelby. When there was no bark, he frowned.

"He's already in here," Katie yelled from inside the house.

"Right," he replied to himself, laughing softly and opening the door. Kicking off his boots, he walked into the pleasantly warm house, the wood stove displaying small flickers of flame. Removing his flannel shirt, he turned to the kitchen. He was met with two very pointed, very round eyes. "What?" he asked innocently, a sheepish smirk tugging at his lips.

With a hand on her left hip, her gaze directed right at him, she smiled, unable to resist the look on his face. "Stop looking at me like that," she said suddenly.

"Like what?" His voice dripped in sarcasm as he walked around the island and kissed her quickly. His hand found its way to the small of her back as he had to lean over her protruding belly. "You're getting bigger."

Lois swatted his shoulder with her right hand. "How do you know?"

Shrugging, he grabbed her hand with his left and held it firmly. "I'm leaning over even farther to kiss you now."

"Oh, so you don't like me like this?" she asked, pulling away from his grasp and frowning. He was about to apologize, but she grabbed him by the belt and pulled him into another rousing kiss. "You're still way too easy," she mumbled.

"Really?" he asked devilishly, strengthening the embrace and putting his hand on her hair.

"Get a room." A voice piped up.

Lois closed her eyes as she let her lips fall from Clark's. "Katie, set the table." She leaned her forehead on his lips as she chuckled softly to herself. "We don't get much time alone anymore," she said, finally looking up at him as she felt his hand go to the side of her neck.

"I know, but I have over a hundred acres to plow, and I'm still using the four furrow."

"It's too bad you can't do it at full speed."

Clark smiled as he kissed her again and moved to the cupboard to help his daughter set the table. "If I went any faster than the tractor goes, the soil would end up in the next county."

Lois walked over and grabbed his hands before he could take out the cups. "Wash first."

He sulked as he looked at her stern glance. "Yes, mom," he said, walking around her and putting himself in front of the sink.

"That reminds me, your mom is coming over for dinner," She swatted him on the shoulder again. "Next time you call me mom, you better be talking to our children."

"Yes ma'am." He smiled widely as he turned on the tap and quickly washed his hands.

"I can't reach the glasses," Katie said as she stood on her tips toes trying desperately to get high enough to reach the cupboard.

"I'll get them for you." Lois smiled as she reached up and grabbed a couple from the cupboard and set them on the counter.

Katie quickly scooped them up and went back to the table.

Lois took out three more cups and placed them on the counter. "When does Perry want you back?" she asked, her back turned to her husband.

"When I'm ready to come back, I guess. Ever since we told him about my alter ego, he understands my need to be here. Plus, I told him I wasn't coming back until I had the farm set up for the winter."

"How much longer?" she asked again.

"Not much longer," he replied sadly.

"Days? Weeks?"

"A week, maybe two, but I intend to make the best of them." He slowly turned her around so that she was facing him. "Don't worry, Lois. I'll still be home for supper every night. I'll wake up with you every morning." Her somber expression softened slightly as he smiled.

"You promise?" She was trying to corner him into it. By the look in his eyes, she knew it wasn't going to work.

"I can't promise that, especially if I'm out doing my Superman routine."

"Routine?" she asked with a smirk. "I thought you were Superman? When did it become a routine?"

Clark shrugged. "Ever since I realized that there are more things in life than just saving lives." His eyes drifted to his daughter, who was gently placing silverware to each side of each plate.

"I know," Lois agreed. "Just don't forget you and him are the same person."

He grinned and nodded. "I won't deny it, but sometimes it's nice just being Clark Kent. If I spend too much time in the suit, I tend to let this part of me slip away."

"That's why you and Ollie created the league, so that you didn't need to be around Metropolis twenty-four hours a day."

"Oliver has been a great help, and with J'onn in the watchtower things are in good hands. It's great to have such friends to count on."

"Indeed it is." She smiled as she turned to the oven and opened it. "Who's looking after the city right now?"

Clark pulled the milk out of the fridge as replied. "J'onn has personally taken over the watch of Metropolis. Bruce wasn't too happy about it since he thinks J'onn is best used in the tower, but our friendly neighborhood Martian thinks that the people of our great city are taking me for granted."

"How do you mean?" Lois asked, slipping on the oven mitts and pulling the lasagna out of the warm oven.

"J'onn believes that the people think that with Superman protecting their city, they're getting bolder. He says that when he interrogates minds, he can sense a feeling of invincibility that the common man is harboring. That's the last thing we want, and to tell you the truth, it'd only create more Lex Luthor's on this world." He didn't like the direction of where their conversation was heading, especially with the mention of Lex, so he drifted away somewhat. "Plus, besides me, J'onn is the most powerful in the league. Should anyone come looking for me specifically, and you know the type. The ones who are stronger than the sun and just want to kill me, they will get an unexpected and almost equally strong foe in J'onn."

"Well," Lois began, "it's good to see him getting out of the watchtower. He's been up there for too long."

"I've asked him to come to dinner on numerous occasions, but he insists he's needed in the watchtower even more."

"It's not a good thing to be alone," Lois commented as she took the tinfoil off the top of the pan.

Clark nodded as he closed the fridge door. "It's not good, you're right, but the league is his only family. He treats everyone like a brother or sister, and many of the young recruits like his children."

"He is older than all of you."

Laughing, he carried the milk over to the table and put it down. As he walked back to the fridge, he said. "He's much older than any of us, but that shouldn't be an excuse. He's the only surviving member of his race, but so am I. And I found happiness."

Lois grinned widely as she poked a fork into the lasagna. "It's harder for him. He's probably still adjusting to earth."

"I know, but I just wish he'd take an opportunity to mingle with the populous. In the watchtower he's accepted wholeheartedly, but he's scared I think. Scared because he doesn't want to have to hide himself from the world, that or he doesn't like humanity all that much. Sometimes he's worse than Bruce."

"It seems like you're the one he should be talking to. You've managed to keep your identity a secret." Lois ginned as she put the oven mitts back on and carried the pan to the table.

Clark followed after her with the large spatula. "I won't talk to him about it unless he says something."

"You men are all the same. You don't want to talk about feelings, and yet you two have more in common than anyone else."

"What can I say?" Clark said jokingly. "We aliens are a testy bunch."

Lois laughed at his joke, the corners of her lips lifting high as she smiled. "We'll invite him for thanksgiving, that way he won't be alone during the holiday."

"Sounds like a good plan." Clark dropped the spatula on the table as he heard the sound of tires on gravel. "Katie, someone's here," he called out.

"Grandma and grandpa!" Katie exclaimed loudly as she exited the upstairs bathroom in a hurry.

"What were you doing up there?" Lois asked with a smile.

"Washing for supper. The two of you were hovering around the sink." She quickly ran past them and to the door. She through it wide open and yelled. "Hurry up, dinner is getting cold."

Lois stepped in beside Clark as they made their way to the door as well. "How do feel about her calling him Grandpa?" she asked.

Clark sighed. "I don't mind, but I really wish she had gotten the opportunity to know her real grandfather."

Lois squeezed his forearm as she held to it lovingly. "You're dad was a special man, Smallville. Everyone in this world should have known him."

Clark smiled at his wife as he saw his mom scoop Katie up in her arms as the setting sunlight illuminated them on the porch. Clark focused his hearing on the two of them.

"Daddy let me drive the tractor," Katie said.

"Katie!" Clark announced loudly, his eyes going wide as his mother stepped through the doorway.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Katie asked Martha, her little eyes glimmering with hope.

"Of course not sweetie," Martha replied, kissing her forehead. She smiled warmly at her son and daughter in law, then handed Katie off to Lionel.

"Grandpa," Katie said, hugging his neck tightly.

Lionel laughed loudly as he hugged her back, his smile wider than Martha's. "How have you been Katie, have your parents been making you do chores?"

"Yes," admitted the young girl, some resentment evident in her voice.

Still grinning, he set her down and ruffled her hair. "It builds character," he said.

"You sound like dad." Katie ran from them and to the table. "I'm starving!" she stated as she climbed into one of the chairs.

"Takes after her mother it seems," Martha said, barely able to wrap her hands around Lois's shoulder for a hug. "How are you doing?"

"I'm great mom, just plugging along." Lois squeezed her back with all she had. Martha was truly her mother and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Lionel shook Clark's hand as the he man removed his trench coat and hung it on the hook by the door. "How's the field work come along?" he asked.

"It could be a little better if it wasn't so wet, but it's good enough. Can't really complain though, I should be done in a couple days."

Martha separated from Lois and hugged her son. "It's been too long," she said.

"It's only been three days," Lois replied.

"Still, it's been too long." She let go of Clark as Lionel helped remove her coat.

Clark ushered them to the dining table as he couldn't help but smile. Lionel had treated his mother well, and he knew he made her happy. It disturbed him to see her with anyone but his dad, but he understood that her happiness was more important than his opinion.

Katie was about to dig into the pan as everyone had finally seated, but her grandmother caught her wrist. "First, we have some news," she said, looking at all of them.

Clark looked over at his wife, then back to his mother after receiving a worried glance from Lois. "What is it?"

Martha looked over to Lionel, and then back to her son. "I know I told you that I would love your father forever, and I always will, but Lionel makes me happier than I have been since I lost him." She saw he son frown his classic fashion, looking more and more like Superman as the seconds went by. "I guess what I'm trying to say is Lionel and I have finally decided to get married."

Clark fainted and slumped head first onto his plate.

"Clark, wake up." Lois said hurriedly, slapping his face gently to wake him. "Come on Smallville, wake up!"