Mild Mannered Reporters

Immortaljedi

Chapter one

"We're going where?" Peter asked his Aunt May, incredulous.

"Smallville, Kansas. My cousin's daughter, Martha, called me the other day and invited us down to visit for the summer. They can use the extra help on the farm, and it will be good to get you out of the city for a while, Peter." Peter was stunned.

He had returned home from the last day of his Junior year at Richards Memorial High, expecting the summer to consist of sleeping, summer homework, and his new favorite pastime, web-slinging. He most certainly had not expected to have to pack to go to Kansas of all places. He took one look at his Aunt's face and knew how much this meant to her. She needed some time to heal after Uncle Ben's death, a new atmosphere. This was just what she needed. Peter pasted a smile on his face.

"Sounds Wonderful, Aunt May. I'll go pack."

"Breaking out the fine China, Mom?" Martha Kent smiled at her son.

"I told you my Aunt was coming to stay here with her nephew for the summer, Clark, I know I did. I'm getting everything ready for tomorrow night's dinner, that's all." Clark grinned at him Mom. She was excited.

"Relax, Mom. Getting everything done at once will not get them here any faster." Martha smiled.

"I know that, dear, I just don't want to be rushing around last minute." She arranged the almost new plates on the table. "I believe her nephew, Peter, is about your age. You think you might want to show him around, be a friend for him? I understand he doesn't have many of those." Clark smiled again.

"Of course, Mom. You know, I don't ever remember hearing about them, other than Uncle Ben died earlier this year, then they are coming to visit. It's strange." Martha never looked up from the table.

"Not that strange, dear. May needs to get some time away from the house she lived in for 50 years with Ben, and she feels Peter could do with getting away from the dirty air of New York. She says he's.delicate. Sick a lot." Clark nodded. He didn't have any experience with that sort of thing, being impenetrable and all, but his friends were often sick and he knew how miserable it could make someone. He watched his mom put the silverware out for a moment.

"I can't wait until they arrive."

The next day, Metropolis Airport

Peter followed May Parker off the plane, looking for who was coming to pick them up. May looked to, so he figured she knew who she was looking for. He was proven right when, a moment later, May smiled and walked over to a red haired woman and an atlas of a teenager, who were looking lost by the baggage claim. Peter easily followed her and they soon arrived at the pair.

"Martha, oh how wonderful it is to see you again, dear. And is this Clark? My how you've grown. It seems as if only yesterday I was able to pick you up and carry you over my shoulder." Clark blushed. He would never get used to compliments from older ladies. Peter smiled slightly when he say Clark blush. 'he's kinda cute like that.stop it Peter!' he scolded himself for thinking along those lines. 'this isn't New York, this is the heart of Kansas. You'll be even more of an outcast than you are already, not to mention tarred and feathered to boot. You have excellent timing libido,' I said mentally as May and Martha chatted.

And Clark. I took the opportunity to check out Clark. What can I say, the man is beautiful. His hair is wavy and black and thick. His eyes are the bluest blue I've seen in a long time, much nicer then my own dull gray- blue. Life on the farm has been good to him an I can almost see the muscles ripple and flex as he stands there, not quite fidgeting, but not quite stiff either. He's tall, too. Very tall. Over six feet. I suddenly feel very small next to this football player size man with my tiny swimmer/jockey size body, and I wish for my glasses to hide behind, but I don't need them anymore.

I tried to listen to the conversation and watch Peter watch me at the same time. I know he thinks I don't know, but I do.

I always know.

I can't do both, so I have to choose. Conversation or Cutie?

No contest.

He doesn't stand tall, like I do, but he doesn't slouch either. His posture is relaxed and when he does move it's with a grace I didn't think anybody could posses. It's natural, too. He seems to preoccupied to consciously be graceful. His hair is long and looks so soft. It's suck a pretty brown with strands of blond at the front and a reddish tint near the back. His eyes are blue-gray, like the sky on a cloudy day.

I love cloudy days.

His clothes appear to be at least two sized to big for him, and he seems to have shrunken in size. If I wasn't openly staring, I would have never noticed him.

Staring openly? Oops.

I advert my eyes at the last second before he realized I was staring and I'm startled out of my thoughts as Martha picks up a carry on bad.

"Nonsense, May. I said you'll stay with us and I mean you'll stay with us. Clark, can you get the other suitcases?"

"Sure Mom." He picked up the bags, which I knew were heavy, but, due to my strength, I didn't feel. If they're heavy to him he doesn't show it. But then again, just look at those muscles. No wonder it didn't strain him.

We fall into step behind Aunt May and Mrs. Kent. For the first time, he talks to me.

"Hi. I'm Clark. You must be Peter. I'd shake your hand, but they're kinda full." I smiled at him.

"That's ok. I can take one, if you want. It is my luggage, after all." Clark nodded and handed me a suitcase. It was of medium weight, and I could tell it was already straining the limits of normal human strength. How Clark could carry all of those is a mystery.

I love Mysteries.

Peter took one of the bags, not too heave, but not light enough as to feel like I don't think he can carry it. He doesn't seem to be under any stress to carry it. He must be stronger than he looks. He has a battered blue backpack on his back, a carry on over one shoulder, and a suitcase in the other hand. There're only one other carry on and two suitcases, so this must be all he brought. Not a lot of clothes.

Kind of like my closet.

After that brief bit of conversation he seems to have just stopped talking. I try to bring him into it again.

"So what do you do at school Peter? You in any clubs?"

"I'm in the Chess Club, and the Science Club. I'm also the photographer for the school newspaper. I love photography." I smiled. I should introduce him to Chloe.

"Oh really? That's cool. I'm on the paper myself. I do a few random articles and research. My friend Chloe runs it. You'll meet her either today or tomorrow. Just be careful. She might want an interview. She's very newspaper minded." He smiled, a wry twisting of his lips and I grinned, glad to have gotten a smile.

"She sound interesting."

"Oh, that she is. Very interesting. And hyper. And single-minded. And determined. But she's a very good friend and that's the best part." Peter smiled wistfully as they stepped out of the airport.

"Must be nice." I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What must be nice?"

"Having friends." It was said quietly and in a voice so sad I almost couldn't believe it. I was just about to ask him what he meant by that when we arrived at the car. Now was not the time.

But I will find out what hurt Peter so badly. I will find out who. And by the summer's end he will have friends.

And maybe.

Maybe something more.