This one does double duty as my entry to Slodwick's
Mother's Day Challenge and (another) one for Caro's Neil
Gaiman Challenge.
***
Feedback: Please? Thank you. celli@fanfic101.com
Rating: PG
Category: Gen. Really, this time. Missing scene from
Lineage.
Spoilers: Pilot, Lineage.
Summary: "Jonathan knew fate when it kicked him in the
head."
Archiving: Ask and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar
Gough Ink, Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted
people with lawyers. Bummer.
Acknowledgements: I had three betas on this, meaning
roughly one reader for every 230 words. I am a dork. Thanks
to Jayne, Shelley, and Caro for their speedy help.
***
Playing House
by Celli Lane
***
"Good night, Jonathan."
"See you later, Ethan." Jonathan closed the door behind the
sheriff and leaned against it. His heart was pounding in
his ears. He'd lied to one of his oldest friends. He was
harboring an honest-to-god alien. His hometown was in
shambles.
"I just wanted to buy Martha some tulips," he said to the
air around him.
He could hear Martha laughing upstairs, telling the boy
some story about a puppy, as if he could even understand a
word she was saying. They'd have to talk. He started for
the stairs, but his steps slowed when he noticed something
on the kitchen table.
It was the sixteen-month calendar, opened to May. No, next
May.
She'd circled Mother's Day.
Jonathan took the stairs two at a time. Martha was just
coming out of the guest room. "He finally fell asleep," she
whispered. "Poor thing. He's had such a hard day."
"Martha." Jonathan grabbed her hand and pulled her into
their room. "Martha, we can't do this. I've been thinking
about it. We don't have to tell anyone about the ship.
We'll just explain to Ethan that we found him on the road,
and that we were rattled by the meteors and the crash."
"Rattled enough to ignore what you told him earlier?" She
jerked away from him. "'We brought him home from
Metropolis,' remember? 'It's been in the works for a
while.' You said that, Jonathan, not me."
"I don't know what I was thinking. When he finds out we
were lying, he'll take Clark away *and* arrest us for
kidnapping."
"No!"
"Dammit, we can't pretend we've adopted him! He's not a dog
that followed us home, Martha. You don't get to just--just-
-put a collar on him and name him Clark!"
She slapped him. They stared at each other, both horrified.
"Jonathan..." she started.
He rubbed his cheek. She'd put some strength into it. "We
can't keep him, Martha. We have no legal rights to him. And
all the will in the world can't manufacture them out of
thin air."
Her voice was eerily calm. "Mr. Luthor can."
It was like getting slapped again. "*What*?"
"He said he'd do anything for us. I think this qualifies."
Jonathan sat down. Fortunately, the bed was behind him.
"You are not suggesting that I ask Lionel Luthor to forge
adoption papers for us."
She crossed her arms.
"No. Absolutely...no."
She took a deep breath, and Jonathan braced himself. But
then a thin cry cut through the air. "Clark!" Martha
gasped, and was out the door before Jonathan could even
stand up.
The boy was in the far corner of the double bed in the
guest room, curled up in a tight fetal position. He was
repeating something over and over, but Jonathan couldn't
understand him.
Martha crawled across the bed to him and pulled him into
her arms. "It's okay, Clark. Baby, hush. It's okay. Mama's
here."
"Martha," Jonathan snapped.
The boy looked up at him and his sobbing turned into full-
fledged wailing.
"Jonathan! You're scaring him. Come here."
He sent her a long look, but settled gingerly on one corner
of the bed.
Martha took his hand and settled it over Clark's littler
one. "See? It's just Daddy. I know he looks scary, but it's
okay."
The boy looked at her for a long moment, his sobs quieting
down until he was just sniffling.
"See? He knows you won't hurt him." Martha said. She
smiled, and Clark mimicked it.
Jonathan knew fate when it kicked him in the head. "No. No,
I won't." Clark turned his hand over and grabbed Jonathan's
firmly. "I'll call Luthor in the morning."
Martha cuddled Clark closer with one hand. She worked her
other hand free and set it against Jonathan's cheek. "I'm
so sorry I hit you, honey."
"I know." Jonathan sighed. He turned his face into the
waiting palm, trying to force his frown from his face and
only barely succeeding.
--the end--
Mother's Day Challenge and (another) one for Caro's Neil
Gaiman Challenge.
***
Feedback: Please? Thank you. celli@fanfic101.com
Rating: PG
Category: Gen. Really, this time. Missing scene from
Lineage.
Spoilers: Pilot, Lineage.
Summary: "Jonathan knew fate when it kicked him in the
head."
Archiving: Ask and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar
Gough Ink, Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted
people with lawyers. Bummer.
Acknowledgements: I had three betas on this, meaning
roughly one reader for every 230 words. I am a dork. Thanks
to Jayne, Shelley, and Caro for their speedy help.
***
Playing House
by Celli Lane
***
"Good night, Jonathan."
"See you later, Ethan." Jonathan closed the door behind the
sheriff and leaned against it. His heart was pounding in
his ears. He'd lied to one of his oldest friends. He was
harboring an honest-to-god alien. His hometown was in
shambles.
"I just wanted to buy Martha some tulips," he said to the
air around him.
He could hear Martha laughing upstairs, telling the boy
some story about a puppy, as if he could even understand a
word she was saying. They'd have to talk. He started for
the stairs, but his steps slowed when he noticed something
on the kitchen table.
It was the sixteen-month calendar, opened to May. No, next
May.
She'd circled Mother's Day.
Jonathan took the stairs two at a time. Martha was just
coming out of the guest room. "He finally fell asleep," she
whispered. "Poor thing. He's had such a hard day."
"Martha." Jonathan grabbed her hand and pulled her into
their room. "Martha, we can't do this. I've been thinking
about it. We don't have to tell anyone about the ship.
We'll just explain to Ethan that we found him on the road,
and that we were rattled by the meteors and the crash."
"Rattled enough to ignore what you told him earlier?" She
jerked away from him. "'We brought him home from
Metropolis,' remember? 'It's been in the works for a
while.' You said that, Jonathan, not me."
"I don't know what I was thinking. When he finds out we
were lying, he'll take Clark away *and* arrest us for
kidnapping."
"No!"
"Dammit, we can't pretend we've adopted him! He's not a dog
that followed us home, Martha. You don't get to just--just-
-put a collar on him and name him Clark!"
She slapped him. They stared at each other, both horrified.
"Jonathan..." she started.
He rubbed his cheek. She'd put some strength into it. "We
can't keep him, Martha. We have no legal rights to him. And
all the will in the world can't manufacture them out of
thin air."
Her voice was eerily calm. "Mr. Luthor can."
It was like getting slapped again. "*What*?"
"He said he'd do anything for us. I think this qualifies."
Jonathan sat down. Fortunately, the bed was behind him.
"You are not suggesting that I ask Lionel Luthor to forge
adoption papers for us."
She crossed her arms.
"No. Absolutely...no."
She took a deep breath, and Jonathan braced himself. But
then a thin cry cut through the air. "Clark!" Martha
gasped, and was out the door before Jonathan could even
stand up.
The boy was in the far corner of the double bed in the
guest room, curled up in a tight fetal position. He was
repeating something over and over, but Jonathan couldn't
understand him.
Martha crawled across the bed to him and pulled him into
her arms. "It's okay, Clark. Baby, hush. It's okay. Mama's
here."
"Martha," Jonathan snapped.
The boy looked up at him and his sobbing turned into full-
fledged wailing.
"Jonathan! You're scaring him. Come here."
He sent her a long look, but settled gingerly on one corner
of the bed.
Martha took his hand and settled it over Clark's littler
one. "See? It's just Daddy. I know he looks scary, but it's
okay."
The boy looked at her for a long moment, his sobs quieting
down until he was just sniffling.
"See? He knows you won't hurt him." Martha said. She
smiled, and Clark mimicked it.
Jonathan knew fate when it kicked him in the head. "No. No,
I won't." Clark turned his hand over and grabbed Jonathan's
firmly. "I'll call Luthor in the morning."
Martha cuddled Clark closer with one hand. She worked her
other hand free and set it against Jonathan's cheek. "I'm
so sorry I hit you, honey."
"I know." Jonathan sighed. He turned his face into the
waiting palm, trying to force his frown from his face and
only barely succeeding.
--the end--