Her mind was somewhere else when Lionel's sleek black sedan pulled into the gravel driveway of the Kent farm. She stood in the doorway of the barn, breathing deeply its distinctive scent and reminiscing about times gone by. He got out of the car and stood stationary in the driveway, watching her from about fifteen yards behind. She was wearing a loose, tan-colored skirt and a fitting, short-sleeved burgundy blouse, with her red hair resting freely against her shoulders.
After a moment, he began walking toward her slowly, stopping about eight yards away. "Martha."
She whirled around, startled, then smiled warmly. "Lionel. I'm so sorry, I forgot you were coming by," she said, doing her part to close the gap between them.
He shrugged. "You were somewhere else, I can hardly blame you."
Now, with less than a foot between them, Martha paused. "I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt earlier, hoping to recapture my…old self." She shook her head, looking down at her matching heels. "It didn't last very long. When did designer apparel become more comfortable than farm clothes?"
Lionel grinned. "It simply exemplifies just how at ease you've become in your new role. You truly are very well-suited in this arena, Senator."
Martha rolled her eyes and started walking slowly, gesturing for him to follow alongside her. "You know, I look around at this farm and I…all I see is Jonathan, all I feel. His dreams, his great love. The more time I spend here, the more I'm aware of being without him."
"That's understandable," Lionel replied, plunging his hands into his coat pockets.
"I thought that staying here would make me feel closer to him, to have his presence so near, but…" She sighed, wringing her hands anxiously. "All it does is remind me he's gone."
They moved onto the pasture then, gazing out onto the acres of land spread out before them. "You're making the right move, Martha," Lionel assured her. "It's right for you, and it's right for the country. You are going to do a lot of good work in Washington. Things you could never accomplish in Smallville."
She nodded, though remained slightly unconvinced. "After I married Jonathan, I never thought I'd ever live anywhere else. If my father could see me now…" She chuckled, shaking her head at the thought.
"He would be very proud of you, I know he would."
Martha smirked. "He'd say 'I told you so, Martha Clark. I knew you'd never last your whole life on a farm.' I never thought his predictions would be correct."
"You lasted twenty-seven years. That's no small feat for a girl from the big city," Lionel replied, glancing over and studying her pensive expression.
"And Clark…" She trailed off, thinking of her son. "Leaving him is something else I thought I'd never do."
"You're not leaving him, Martha."
"I know," she agreed. "But I can't help but feel a little guilty."
They turned back then, heading toward the little yellow house Martha had become accustomed to calling home. "I never could have done this without you, you know," she told him, in all sincerity.
"Oh, you'd have done just fine," Lionel insisted, with a surreptitious smile. "Without or without me."
"I'm serious!" Martha turned her head, grinning at him. "I never would have made it without your support and encouragement. And your…loyal companionship."
"I could say the same to you," Lionel replied. "You were only one who stood by me when I was in the hospital last month. My dearest, and perhaps my only friend."
They stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the porch, facing one another. "What will you do now?"
Lionel smiled unabashedly. "There's no need to request an outline of future endeavors, Martha. I think you'll find we'll be in touch more often than you realize."
"I hope so," Martha said, flashing him an uncertain, almost self-deprecating smile. "Your friendship means too much to me to let go."
Lionel felt a surge of warmth and happiness at her words, always desperate for reassurance of her true feelings about their relationship, whatever it was. "We've come a long way," was all he could muster up in response.
Martha nodded her head slowly, thinking back to all those years earlier, to the days when she worked as his assistant. It seemed like lifetimes ago. They had both been so different then. "Yes, we have."
He took a deep breath, his eyes firmly locking with hers. "I can say to you now, with unequivocal sincerity, that you will be most sorely missed when you leave, Martha Kent." With that, his left hand reached for her right, and he was surprised when she didn't pull away, didn't even flinch at his touch. "My life will certainly be less without you."
Martha flashed him a shy half-smile, conveying both the uncertainty and the thrill of the moment. "You said yourself," she said, very slowly inching closer. "We'll be in touch."
"Yes…" Lionel breathed, her close proximity suddenly causing him feeling weak and vulnerable.
She broke eye contact then, unable to look at his steely, intent eyes without blushing. "I'm…sorry you never got what you wanted."
Though she wasn't sure he would, he instantly understood her meaning. "You were always enough," he answered. "In any form."
Her smile no longer shy, she looked up, her misty eyes meeting his once more. She leaned forward gradually, this time with a definite goal. Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, her expression gave him permission to further their closeness. After what seemed like an endless amount of time, their lips finally met. Though he was eager, the kiss was slow, both of them nervous, both of them blinded by the emotion of the moment. He placed his hand on her waist, his fingers gripping her with a fervent unwillingness to ever let her go, and placed his other hand on the small of her back. His lips formed a smile against hers as her eyes fluttered open delicately, looking wide-eyed into his. Her lips pressed against his one last, fleeting time before she pulled back a little, embarrassed and confused.
He looked down at her tear-filled eyes, his lips still tasting the memory of hers, and had to fight everything within him to keep from begging her to stay. For once in his life, he had decided not to be selfish.
"Lionel, I…" She stammered.
He shook his head, letting her know her words were not necessary. "It's okay. I know. You have to go. I want you to go. It's what's right."
Martha nodded feebly, blinking back tears. "Yes."
He stroked her hair gently, then kissed the top of her head. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."
She smiled sadly. "I will."
"And you'll stay in touch."
Quietly, in more of a whispered, she replied with another steadfast "I will."
Letting her go, letting her literally slip out of his hands, he began to back away, his eyes never leaving her. "By the way," he called out, continuing to move away from her. "Those designer clothes? They do more than suit you professionally."
She bit her lip to keep from chuckling, and instead shook her head with a facetious smile. He lifted his arm, offering her one last wave. She waved back, stepping up on to the front stoop. He stared at her for a moment, committing her to memory, as if he could ever forget, then disappeared into the mysterious black sedan. Martha sat down on the steps as it pulled away, and silently thanked him for providing her with one last memory in this place she so loved.
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