Public School 139, East Side Slums, October 7, 1974. "Mr. and Mrs. Russell? I'm so sorry to keep you waiting; if you'd like to come in and have a seat, I'd be happy to discuss Leroy's progress with you," Sandy Carmichael offered as she stood in the doorway to her classroom. Aaron and Rose quickly stood from their seats in the plastic chairs in the hallway and made their way into the room, eager to get Leroy's parent-teacher conference underway.

The space was crowded, to say the least; there were at least twenty-eight desks crammed into the room, separated out into seven batches of four. Colorful, finger-painted artwork littered the walls and a long, child-sized bookshelf dominated the wall just inside the door. Leroy's parents picked their way through the classroom before taking their seats in the two wooden chairs set-up across from Mrs. Carmichael's desk.

"First, Mr. and Mrs. Russell, I'd like to tell you what a joy it's been getting to know your son this past month. I've really enjoyed having him in my class, and before you ask, no, I don't say that to all the parents," she informed them, a genuine sparkle in her eye.

"Oh good!" Rose said quickly as she let loose the breath she'd been holding. "It's just that, well, Leroy's kindergarten teacher told us what a handful he was last year, and we were afraid those problems might have carried over…"

"Well, you can rest assured that I haven't seen a troublesome streak in Leroy so far. I was looking through his file earlier and I noticed Miss Joyce's notes regarding his kindergarten year; I think, however, that she had the situation all wrong."

Aaron furrowed his brow in concern. "She did? How so?"

Mrs. Carmichael bit her lower lip nervously. "Well, I hate to speak ill of another teacher…" she shrugged lightly, "…but Miss Joyce was old and nearing retirement; I think she was probably too tired to really pay attention to him. She noted that Leroy was a handful because he never seemed to sit still; that he wouldn't pay attention to her when she was giving instructions and that he would distract other students with his behavior as well. I noticed him doing this on our third day of class, but once I discovered what the problem was we fixed it and there hasn't been another outburst since."

Aaron and Rose leaned forward in their seats, waiting to finally discover the cause of their son's classroom disobedience.

"Your son is exceptionally bright for his age, and I think Miss Joyce mis-categorized him when she labeled him as a troublemaker. I think Leroy was acting out simply because he was bored. In fact, I think he's very gifted."

Rose's face lit up as she turned to look at her husband. "Our boy? Gifted? Oh Aaron!" He gave his wife's hand a little squeeze, then turned his attention back to Mrs. Carmichael as she enumerated the virtues of his seven year old son.


Metropolis, February 17, 2009. "Jason! Stop hovering around your Aunt Chloe, she's had a rough night and needs her rest," Lois hissed at her son in a loud whisper, beckoning him back to the breakfast table and his half-eaten cereal.

Clark stepped into the kitchen then with a short towel slung low on his hips while vigorously rubbing his wet head with a second. "She's still not up yet?" he asked concernedly.

Lois shook her head. "It looks like she got up in the middle of the night though…her water glass was half-empty, so I re-filled it in case she woke up after we'd left for work. Were you able to take care of everything in California?"

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, no problem there…you know, I always forget what a real pain in the butt mud is to wash out…" he commented, draping the second towel around his neck and reaching into the refrigerator for the orange juice. His wife sat back in her chair at the kitchen table admiring the view, her delicate hands folded neatly over her protruding belly.

"Mmhmmm…and what a fine butt it is…" she said, sighing dreamily.

"Lois! Not in front of Jason!" he glanced over his shoulder at his son's spot at the table in slight horror, only to find it vacant again.

Sighing in relief that their flirting had gone undetected, he admonished his son again. "Jason, what did your Mother just say to you about leaving your Aunt Chloe alone? Now come finish your cereal." Clark quickly downed the rest of his juice, placing the empty glass in the sink before zipping down the hall to the bedroom and back again, this time wearing one of his signature ill-fitting suits with his bulky glasses perched on his nose. He leaned over to give his wife a kiss.

"I liked your other outfit better," she whispered in his ear, giving his rear a swift pat as he went to stand back up. His cheeks flushed bright red and she grinned at the sight; Lois LOVED the fact that she could make the Man of Steel blush on a daily basis. With his help, she slowly pulled herself out of her chair and took her breakfast dish to the sink.

"Ok, Buddy," Clark said, reaching over the table and taking Jason's nearly empty bowl away, "Hurry up and grab your backpack and coat or we're going to be late." The child got up from the table and raced into his bedroom, quickly meeting his parents by the front door with the items in tow.

Clark had just gotten Jason into his jacket when Chloe began to stir. "It's alright, I'll stay here," Lois volunteered, looking over at the couch's occupant. "Just take the express route to school, then stop back in here and we'll figure out what to do next." Jason squealed with delight at the mention of the 'express route'.

Clark eyed his wife, then his friend and lastly his son before staring back at his wife again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure, now go or else we'll all be REALLY late."

He opened the door and ushered Jason out. "We're going then, see you in two minutes…"

She waddled past the sofa, draping her coat on the back of the recliner before perching on the edge of the seat. Chloe's eyes popped open at Lois' muffled "oompf".

"How are you feeling?"

"Like two dust bunnies crawled in my mouth and multiplied…" she groaned, sitting up slowly. Her hand went immediately to her head and her sleep tousled hair. "Ugh…did I get hit by a Mac truck last night too?"

"No, but I'm betting you're going to wish you had been," Lois replied, holding out the glass of water for her. Chloe downed it in one gulp and thought over the previous night's events, never once regretting sharing her family history with Jim, only feeling sorry for her less than stellar conduct afterward.

"Clark said that you and Jimmy were having a personal discussion when you went a little overboard with the martinis. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Chloe said with unwavering finality. Telling Jimmy was hard enough as it was…at least he didn't say anything more than that to Lois and Clark.

"Fair enough. But I'm always here if you need to talk."

"I know." Her crazy antics in front of the Ottman the previous evening came flashing to the forefront of her mind. "Oh God—I made such a fool out of myself last night!" she said, dropping her throbbing head into her hands and wincing at the impact.

"Don't be so worried now…I don't know what happened before you got here but I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad." Lois gently touched her friend's shoulder.

Clark re-entered through the front door, adjusting his suit jacket and regarding his friend with his unencumbered cobalt eyes. "How are you feeling?"

She glared at him. "Do I have to answer that?"

"That good, huh?"

She groaned in response.

"So... what's the game plan, Ladies? Shall I escort Lois to the office, then pop back over here and take you to Smallville, or should it be the other way around?"

"If you don't mind…I think I'd like to splash some cold water on my face, maybe brush my teeth first…hey, where's my luggage? Oh crap, did I leave it at the hotel?"

"No, no, Jimmy had it with him when he brought you here last night. I flew it out to your apartment after you crashed on the couch so it'd be one less thing to worry about this morning."

Chloe groaned again, more loudly than before. "Ugh…"

"What?" he asked worriedly as helped Lois back into her coat.

"Nothing, nothing. I'll just get some more water and wait right here."

Clark did his quick-change then scooped his wife up in his arms and made for the window, blowing open the latch with his breath. "Ok, I'll be right back."


Once he returned, Chloe demanded to know everything she'd said or done the previous evening after Jimmy deposited her at his door. Clark complied, giving her a brief account of her actions as they soared above the clouds.

"SEEK?" she cried out, annoyed with herself. "Where the heck did I come up with that?!"

He tilted his head, feigning indifference in mid-flight in that way that only he could . "I dunno…Jimmy always calls me CK, and you kept saying it over and over again, so maybe in your drunken head it started to sound like 'seek'."

"Oh good grief…that's it Clark, do NOT let me anywhere near any liquor ever again! And I do mean ever."

"Uh huh," he replied placatingly, scanning below the clouds to see how close to Smallville they were. "So, do you want me to drop you off at work or at your place?"

"Definitely my place—I need to shower, change and try to get rid of this hangover first. Plus, I happen to have a little pull with the boss, so I can afford to be a bit late," she chuckled at her own wit, seeing as how she was 'the boss'.

Superman set her down gently on the roof of her building. "I left your luggage on the bed last night. By the way, did you paint the living room recently? Because I really like the new light blue color…"

She sighed at him exasperatedly. "Yes, I painted it…about four years ago. You know you really shouldn't be such a stranger now that you're back."

"I'll try not to be, I promise…and Chloe? You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything?"

"I know, and if I need to talk, I'll be sure to holler."

He nodded. "I just wanted to make sure. Now I have to go or I'm gonna be really late for work."

"Ok, sorry. Thanks again!" she called out to him as he took off. He waved to her before going vertical, arching towards Metropolis only when he was above the cloud cover; his sonic boom echoed in her ears and made her head throb worse than before. Chloe traipsed down the stairs, muttering under her breath about supersonic friends and their penchant for violating airspace regulations. She let herself into her apartment with a small sigh—she really was grateful to her friends—no matter how much they made her head hurt.


She glanced around her bullpen at the relative inactivity; it had been a slow news day despite her presence. With a heavy sigh, she knew what she had to do, and so picked up the phone to dial the number for a certain photographer at the Daily Planet.

"Hi, Jim," she said in a small voice, cutting him off before he could give his standard work greeting.

"Hey you! How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, thanks for asking. Listen, I'm going to get straight to the point to make this easier on you. Don't worry—I'll understand..."

"You'll understand what?" he asked cutting her off, confused.

"I'll understand if you don't want to see or hear from me again, given the fool I made out of myself last night. You were a complete gentleman while I was…"

"Look, you keep trying to get rid of me, and the only way you can do that at this point is by telling me that you have a criminal record or something." Jimmy chuckled until he was met by silence on the other end of the line. "Oh my God! You DO have a criminal record?!" His mouth fell open in shock…Just who have I taken up with here?!

"Well, I was going to save that for our fourth date," she admitted to him in a light tone, "Besides, I was young, and it was for the Torch…"

"What is that, some secret society or something?"

"More like my high school newspaper…"

"Wait a second, let me get this straight; you got arrested in Smallville for investigations relating to your high school newspaper?!"

She shrugged her shoulders, as if he could see her. "You should know by now, Jim, I don't do things half-assed."

"Apparently not! Well, in spite of your criminal record, you still won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"Really? You mean it?" she asked, glancing wistfully at the pictures of them she'd pulled up on her computer screen. Well, what few there were that had Jimmy in front of the camera at Lois and Clark's wedding

"Yes I mean it," he told her semi-exasperatedly. "You know, there are a few honest guys left in this City who do mean what they say." He paused before deciding to change the subject instead of launching into his usual tirade in defense of men in Metropolis. "So, you got back to Smallville ok?"

"Yes! Yes I did…it was no problem; Clark was able to help me get an early morning flight," via the 'Man of Steel Express'…she added silently.

"Well that's great! Listen, I'm sure you have a lot of work to catch up on—I know I do—so I'll call you in a day or two, ok? Thank you for letting me know that you got home ok."

"It was the least I could do after all of your help last night. Thanks again for taking care of me and being so understanding…I'll try not to be…"

"Chloe," he said quickly, cutting her off mid-self-deprecation. "Don't worry about it. I'll talk to you soon though, ok?"

"Ok. Bye Jim."