Okay, so I really tried not to write something about Man of Steel, but I couldn't not do it. I saw the movie a few days ago and loved it. So, this was the product of my much too imaginative brain. Hopefully I'll be able to get to my other stories soon!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OCs.

Her name was Samantha.

Or really, Sam, because when his mom tried to call her Samantha she stopped dead in her tracks, stared straight into the older woman's eyes, and said in a much-too-mature voice, "My name is Sam."

Only letting her shock show mildly, Martha Kent gave the tiny girl a wide smile and apologized. "My mistake, Sam." She began to walk from the hallway to the kitchen, "Now, would you two like some lemonade or iced tea? I think we have some cookies around here some – Clark!" Martha beckoned her son over from where he was standing next to the table. "Now come on, don't be shy. This here's Amanda Hoffman and her daughter Sam."

Clark, still only 11 years old, went to his mother's side and glued himself to it, only offering the two new strangers in his home a small smile before looking up and asking, "Where's Dad?"

His mother's eyes furrowed and she nudged her son away from her, "Don't be rude, Clark. Say hi."

With his head down and gaze to the floor, Clark quietly said, "Hi." He didn't see his mother mouth Sorry over his head to the other woman.

"Hi, Clark, I'm Amanda," the woman – Amanda – said. He heard two quiet footsteps and a muffled Hmph as, he assumed, the small girl was pushed forward to introduce herself, even though he really wished she wouldn't.

"I'm Sam," the girl said. Like earlier, she sounded old, at least much older than she looked, Clark finalized as he silently peeked up from his spot on the floor. She had pale skin, green eyes and light brown hair, but what was most significant was her height. His mom had told him a few weeks ago that he was 5'3'', and so he assumed that she was, at most, 4'6''. Almost all of the girls in his grade were his height, maybe a little bit shorter. He quickly hoped that she wouldn't be his age, and if she was, she'd better have a tough skin.

"Tell Clark how old you are," Sam's mother told her.

With her chin poked out, she confidently said, "I'm 11 years old and will be joining the 6th grade next week."

"Well, now," Martha started smiling, "that's Clark's grade. Maybe you two'll have the same teacher."

Amanda patted her daughter's back lightly, "That would be nice, now wouldn't it, Sam?"

The small girl shrugged, "I guess."

Placing her hands on her son's shoulder's, Martha asked, "Clark, why don't you take Sam out to the swing and show her around a bit? You can tell her about school." After a moment when he didn't respond or move, she pushed him forward towards the door. "Go on, now. Sam, you can just follow him. He should know where he's going." Amanda smiled at Martha as she urged her daughter to follow the boy.

"Iced tea or lemonade?" Clark heard his mother ask as he opened the door.

"Lemonade's fine," Amanda responded as she walked into the kitchen.

Clark stopped listening to the two women after he was outside, he never liked listening to mom's talk together, anyways; they really liked to gossip.

The door slammed shut behind him, and that's when he remembered the girl and how his mom wanted him to show her around. Well, that was the house and this was the yard, it's not that hard to learn. Besides, she seemed smart enough to understand what was what and left from right. But, he was sure that his mom would some one find out how he was treating Sam, she had a very watchful eye, so he might as well be nice to her.

He made a left arc in the yard and ended up at his swing, one of the only places where he felt truly alone. With the wind being prominently heard in his extra sensitive ears, he was able to forget the world and all its problems. Here, he was Clark.

The girl had followed him, and with a small sigh he turned around. She was looking at him, hands by her side and eyes curious, like she wanted to ask him something but couldn't. It was he who spoke first though. "Do you want to swing?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I don't like heights."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders and sat down himself, nonchalantly

swinging his legs as he stared up at the sky. Whenever he did this, he lost track of time, like he did every evening. Only this time, there was some one watching him.

"What does your dad do?" she asked randomly after a moment's silence.

"He works on cars," Clark answered immediately, proud of what his father did.

Her mouth formed a small o as she thought, her eyes drawing blank. She didn't answer for a minute, but then she said, "My mom says that my dad works with other grown ups and that I wouldn't understand, but I don't think that's fair. Your dad works with other grown ups, right?"

Clark nodded, but didn't speak.

"I don't know. She always makes me go to bed early though, so I don't see him a lot. What time do you have to go to bed?"

His fingers clenched in annoyance. He didn't talk that much in general, especially not to people he just met, though. And there she was, going off on the weirdest things. Maybe Pete and the others wouldn't get her because she talked too much.

"I don't know, whenever she tells me to," he answered as his eyes focused on a very tall cornstalk.

"Do you hate me?"

He looked back at her, startled that she'd think that. Just because he wasn't talking didn't mean he hated her...did it? No, of course not. She just wasn't used to him. But she seemed pretty sure of herself, with her hands on her hips and an impatient look.

"No. I just...I, uh, guess I don't talk...a lot," he told her, getting quieter with each word.

"Hmm," she said, "that's weird, but I guess it's okay. Do you like anything?"

He thought for a moment, not exactly sure how to answer her. "I like...swinging."

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "Anything besides swinging?"

Shrugging, Clark told her, "Yeah, I don't know, though."

She sigh loudly. "You're not very fun."

After shrugging again for what felt like the hundredth time, he said, "That's okay."

Sighing, again, she asked, "Do you want to play a game, then? And be fun?"

Clark closed his eyes slowly, and then opened them. "Sure."

Sam gave him a huge smile, happy that she accepted his offer. Running forward and grabbing his hand, she startled him; not because of her speed, but by the fact that she actually touched him. He could count the number of times some one his age had touched him – out of fun, as she called it – on one hand.

Feeling his reluctance, she asked, "Come on, it'll be fun," he was still cautious, "Trust me."

He was still hesitant, but the sparkle in her eyes told him that he should trust her. And, just maybe, he'd have fun. So, Clark nodded at her, and he was responded with another huge smile, showing her missing teeth. After the small pause it took to smile at him, she took off racing, towing him behind her, towards the place where she wanted to go.

This wasn't exactly him showing her around, but it would work. Besides, he knew that his mother would see them running together past the kitchen window, so he might get one of those cookies she was talking about earlier.

Softly smiling to himself, he easily kept pace with the tiny girl in front of him, okay with following for once.

Thoughts? I have nothing against Lois and Clark together, but I wanted to see how this would work out. Review please!

GD