Not cold, not cough, not awful and disgusting sinuses will stop me from posting my chapter! Now to enjoy another Christmas Eve with the Kents, though one different than the ones we've seen before...


"I see you have both applied yourselves to the study of Kryptonian history," Jor-El said, "although your knowledge, Jon-El, is not as extensive as that of your sister."

Kala couldn't resist grinning at her brother, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Thank you, Grandfather," he replied evenly. "I shall improve."

You'd better, Kala mouthed at him, and he had to stifle the urge to swat her – or laugh. They'd been speaking formal Kryptonese, what Kala liked to call the High Speech, for the past hour, and her sudden departure into English was a sharp contrast.

"Attend me, Kala Kal-El," Jor-El said. The use of her full name made the girl wince; it was worse than Jason being abbreviated into Jon-El. Lois hadn't known about Kryptonian naming conventions when she'd chosen Kala's name, but it was still an annoyance.

"We are in high spirits, Grandfather," Jason said, by way of explanation. "An important holiday draws near."

"Yes," Jor-El said. "This frenzy of rampant consumerism known as Christmas."

The English word sounded strange coming from him, particularly when both twins knew he could speak the language perfectly when he chose. Kala's head came up at that remark, her brow furrowing. "Grandfather, I think you may have drawn an inaccurate conclusion," she said. "Christmas means a great deal more than that."

"It is the consummate holiday of the American calendar," Jor-El replied, "and as such it is also logically the consummate reflection of American culture. Thus it comes as little surprise to me that this Christmas is celebrated with so much unbridled greed. After all, materialistic disregard for the consequences of one's actions is the defining note of much of human culture, but most particularly that of the nation in which you reside."

"You are wrong." Jason spoke clearly and distinctly, his chin lifted slightly and his blue eyes steely. "The defining note of American culture is not greed but hope. True, blind hope may become folly, as in the wastefulness of our people – we hope that the resources we use so recklessly may be endless, and when we begin to see that they are not, we hope that someone else will rescue us, rather than making changes to our accustomed lifestyles. But when we are clear-eyed, it is our hope that the world can be a better place that drives us to our greatest feats. For if we were purely rational, we would see the world around us as it is, and we would despair.

"It has ever been so; this nation was founded upon the hope that the poor, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised could make something better of their lives here. The same hope that brought hundreds of thousands of immigrants to this land when it was wild and untamed, now gives us the strength to face our plight and attempt to save ourselves. And while there are many who dilute the true spirit of Christmas with their greed, it is also meant to be about hope. For a child, it is the hope that a longed-for toy may be wrapped up beneath the Christmas tree. But for those old enough to reason, the true meaning of the holiday is the hope that, if the past year has been a poor one, the next year will not be so. And if the last year was satisfactory, the new one will be better. Perhaps this will be accomplished by means of a savior, who comes to redeem us all from our folly and wickedness, but on that day each individual shares in the spirit of the holiday, and becomes for a little while one who brings joy and peace. For one day, we all strive to be the best of what we know we can become."

He could feel Kala staring at him, but Jason held firm, looking at the holographic image of Jor-El. Such eloquence was generally unlike him, but the Kryptonian elder had struck a deep chord in his essentially American soul. Never mind that he had been born in Paris, or that his father was not born on this planet at all. In his heart of hearts, he was defending not just his culture, but his mother.

"You speak well, and your point is duly made," Jor-El said at last. "It is true that these people have within them the capacity for greatness. But it disturbs me to hear you say 'we' and 'our' in reference to American culture. My grandson, you are not entirely human – this is only a part of your heritage."

"As are these lessons," Jason retorted. "I am not entirely Kryptonian, either, Grandfather. The same challenge my father faced, to reconcile his human upbringing with his Kryptonian legacy, is mine to face anew. In my case, it is not merely a matter of cultures, but of fundamental biology; I am part of both worlds in my very DNA. I can only hope I master it as well as he has."

"Jon-El, I ask you to consider your favorable bias toward humanity in this matter," the hologram said carefully.

"I will do so, Grandfather, if you will consider your negative bias toward them," Jason replied. "You are the one who so despised the notion of diluting the pure Kryptonian bloodline that you counseled my father to surrender his powers if he wished to marry a human woman. And yet, had he not defied you, you would not now be tutoring the heirs of the House of El, and there would be no one to carry your legacy onward past the name of Kal-El."

That seemed to surprise Jor-El; perhaps he hadn't considered that his son would tell the children the whole truth of everything that had happened around the time of their conception. After a long silence, in which the hologram looked thoughtful, Jor-El spoke again. "Perhaps you are correct, Jon-El," he said slowly. "I shall give the matter some thought. In any case, it is now time for your individual lessons. Kala, if you would like to practice your Kryptonese composition?"

Kala bit her lip, and Jason suppressed a grin. As much as she claimed to love the language, she hated writing in it. All those intricate symbols didn't make it easy to write fluidly and swiftly, and she frequently complained about how laborious it was. So far Jor-El had firmly discouraged her attempts at developing Kryptonese shorthand.

"See you soon, Kal," Jason said, and she rewarded him with a quick grin on her way out the door. Then he was facing Jor-El alone, and Jason squared his shoulders. I am Jon-El, scion of the House of El, the noblest of all the ancient houses of Krypton. So why do I feel so out of place and awkward before my grandfather?

Jor-El regarded him thoughtfully. "We have long since passed the point of memory exercises, son of my son. Something weighs upon your mind; ask, and I shall do my best to answer."

All of Jason's silver-tongued lucidity seemed to desert him. "There is … an issue which concerns me," Jason said slowly. "But it is one which, I fear, you will categorically disapprove of."

"You mean to say 'one of which you will categorically disapprove,' I suspect," Jor-El said, unable to resist correcting his grandson's grammar. "What concerns you concerns me also. Please, speak."

Jason sighed heavily. This was not going to go well. "It is about … my future."

Jor-El's eyebrows rose a little. "Jon-El, you have shown the desire and the aptitude to aid your father in his mission. Surely that is not the issue?"

"No, Grandfather, it is not," Jason replied, suppressing the urge to sarcastically announce he'd decided to run off with the circus. "Rather, I am considering my … personal life. I am worried about my search for a companion." He realized how dryly scientific that sounded, and amended with a chuckle, "I am sixteen years of age, Grandfather, and like many boys my age, I am thinking of girls. One in particular."

"Human girls?" Jor-El asked, startled.

"There are not many other kinds on this planet, Grandfather," Jason said.

"You know me well, Jon-El," the hologram said. "And you are already aware of my feelings on the continued intermarriage of the House of El with humans."

"I do not see another option, Grandfather," Jason replied quickly. "Only one Kryptonian woman is known to have survived the destruction of Krypton, and she was the ally of General Zod. In any case, she perished some years ago while attempting to escape prison." Deciding to drive his point home, he added, "The only other is Kala, and she is merely half-Kryptonian – and wholly my twin sister."

That gave Jor-El pause. It was unthinkable; Kryptonian society forbade marriage between first cousins or closer relatives. The advent of the birthing matrix had eliminated the occurrence of twins on Krypton, so he could not understand the depth of the bond between Jason and Kala, but he recognized that it was even closer than ordinary siblings. Unless some other survivor of the doomed planet could be found, Jason could never find a suitable Kryptonian wife.

Jason watched these thoughts flicker across Jor-El's face, waiting for the hologram's response. It wasn't unexpected. "There is the choice of celibacy."

"And let the House of El die out?" Jason asked.

"You ask me to choose whether my legacy should peter out until our blood is thinner than water and we are become mere mortals, or whether it should end abruptly with one in whom the greatest traits of our people are so clearly shown," Jor-El mused. "I am inclined to say that, since an end must come to the House of El as I know it, I would choose to end it in glory rather than merely allow it to trickle away."

"Is there truly no glory in joining our fate once and for all to the destiny of our adopted planet?" Jason countered.

"Tell me, then, why you are so convinced of your need to marry into humanity," Jor-El said. Jason sighed; when the hologram abruptly took a different tack like that, he was feeling pressed, and would likely grill Jason relentlessly until the original point was lost. I guess asking Grandfather about girls was pretty stupid, he thought, as he mustered his arguments. Considering that there was no sex on Krypton, and virtually no touching – the amount of hugging and handshaking and backslapping that goes on at school would permanently traumatize Jor-El – he may not be the best person to go to for advice. But then, he did ask what was on my mind.

And it was little surprise that Giselle was on his mind. She'd been deeply disappointed about not coming to Christmas in Smallville, especially since she'd already missed the family celebration at Thanksgiving. After some persistence, Jason had managed to finagle an invitation for her to the New Year's Eve party at the Lane-Kent penthouse. Kala was allowed to go out clubbing with Sebast, provided she got home by midnight, so it just made sense for Giselle to come over. Even better, with Kala not home, there wouldn't be any quarreling between his girlfriend and his sister. All in all, a perfect New Year's Eve.

Jor-El paused, and Jason quickly returned his attention to their conversation.

Kala's individual lessons had been shorted – as usual. But then, since Jor-El refused to discuss the heroic stuff with her and learning about Kryptonian womanhood from a man seemed counterproductive, she didn't exactly miss it. Although, she did resent the way the hologram lavished attention on Jason; she was by far the better scholar in all things Kryptonian, yet she never received praise unless it was to motivate Jason to catch up to her.

Still, there was one thing about trips to the Fortress that never failed to please her. The moment Kal-El returned from his evening duties, she took her leave of Jor-El and raced out into the Fortress' grand hall.

Jason was already putting on his gloves, getting ready for the flight home. Kala raced up to her father, eyes agleam, and said one word: "Please?"

"Oh, no," her brother groaned. "No way. I am not riding through that again."

Kala looked heartbroken at that, and Kal-El sighed. "Kala, it isn't fair to ask that of your brother."

"Didn't you already say we were getting a little too much to fly together?" Kala asked cunningly. "Not weight-wise, but having to manage two people on a long flight. It's not as if two trips would take much longer than one."

"Pushy," Jason muttered. "Kala, I don't want to wait up here while you go make a fool of yourself."

"Fine, chicken, you can have the first flight home," Kala replied sharply. She turned a winning smile on her father before adding, "Please, Daddy?"

"All right," he sighed, and held out a hand to Jason. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but he went without further commentary.

That left Kala all alone in the Fortress. She knew her father would be back soon, but couldn't resist strolling around a bit, imagining what it would be like to come here on her own, whenever she wanted. Wasn't this place part of her personal history as well? Maybe one day, when she was older, she could come and listen to poetry in Kryptonese, or pore over the history of the doomed planet.

The Fortress echoed with Kal-El's footsteps when he returned. "Jason says I spoil you," he told her.

"He's just too chicken to go solo and hates admitting it," Kala replied. She hurried to her father's side and held tightly to his arm as he spiraled up through the Fortress' interlocking-crystal roof and into the Arctic sky. Higher and higher, until the stars seemed close enough to touch and the world was a blue-white blur below, the air so thin and cold it burned Kala's lungs to breathe it. She looked out, not down, thrilling to the distant curve of the horizon and the inky darkness of the night sky. This, oh, this, for this I would do anything, bear anything, learn anything, for this beauty and glory that only the few of us know, those who can fly and those lucky enough to be their passengers.

"Ready?" Kal-El asked softly, smiling at her. He knew how she felt up here; the same wild joy that made her eyes gleam had to be racing through his veins.

Kala nodded her assent, too excited to speak, and Kal-El let go of her hand. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slid her hand out from the crook of his arm.

It was like a sudden gust of wind, at first. The sense that she was falling, faster every second, came only after she opened her eyes again. Gently, Kala let herself lean forward, and her fall slowed a little as she moved into the typical skydiver's position with maximum surface area. For a little while, she could almost believe she was flying.

The steady loss of altitude proved her wrong, of course. Rather than simply fall down on her belly, she shifted her center of gravity further forward. Now Kala was falling headfirst, arms back behind her, and she went faster with less surface area to slow her down. This was what flying was like, all power and speed, the slightest gesture of one hand altering her course through the cold air. The sole difference was that she could only go down.

She tried making herself to level out and accelerate; closed her eyes and focused all of her considerable willpower on one object: a moment of true, unaided flight. It wasn't a muscular thing, Dad had told her that much, but her shoulders tensed and her legs trembled from the mental effort she was making. One second, one instant, to pull herself out of the steep dive…

It never came; it never had. Of all the powers Kryptonians possessed on Earth, Kala wanted this one the most, and so far she hadn't shown an inkling of it. Her father had had all of his powers, though in reduced intensity, by his late teens, and the window for Kala and Jason to develop new ones was narrowing.

Oh well, she thought, stretching out her arms and letting the cold air buffet her. I can't fly yet, but for now there's this, and I love it. While few sane people would define 'fun' as plummeting toward the Arctic tundra at something over a hundred miles and hour, Kala found it exhilarating. But even she began to notice that the ground below was looking quite a bit closer than it had the last time she'd done this.

"Daddy?" she called, the wind tearing the words from her mouth. He usually caught her far above the ground, farther up than this. Kala could see hills below her now, and called louder, "Daddy!"

No answer. Fear tried to creep up her spine, but she forced it away. Her father was Superman. He could fly almost as fast as the speed of light. There was simply no way he'd forget about her and let her fall. Not possible. Not unless something really bad happened to him…

The fear came roaring back, and Kala shuddered, trying to look over her shoulder. Where was he? Had something happened? And if it had, why hadn't she seen or heard anything? She couldn't have been that drunk on speed… And on the low hills below her, Kala could actually make out the tracks of a polar bear across the snow. "Daddy!" she screamed.

Trying to look around had unbalanced her, and Kala was tumbling through the air instead of diving straight down. The earth and sky seemed to flip past each other, the ground getting closer and closer and…

…suddenly zooming along, a strong arm around her waist, and the snow mere yards below. Kala heaved a sigh of relief and twisted around to glare at her father. "I thought you forgot me!"

"I didn't forget you," he told her, smiling as they rose skyward again. "You always say you want to fall for a long time, so I let you do that."

Kala scowled, but the fear had worn off, replaced by elation. She couldn't help grinning at her dad. "Nice catch," she said at last. "But next time, wait another fifteen feet or so."

Kal-El groaned. "I was hoping you wouldn't want me to drop you anymore after this, Kala."

She only shrugged and leaned against his shoulder. "I guess that's enough for one day. Thank you. You're the best daddy ever."

"And you're the most spoiled-rotten little girl ever," he teased back gently, and flew her home.

In order to be at the airport early enough to go through security, the Lane-Kents had to leave the house at four in the morning. Kala had been bright-eyed and chatty at three in the morning, while Jason lumbered around like a hibernating bear that had been rudely awakened. Both of them were already packed, however, and got dressed and ate breakfast in a reasonable time. At five minutes to four, the whole family was in the car, with Bagel snuffling at the front of her carrying bag as Clark drove the Audi out of the parking garage. Lois merely sipped coffee and tried to keep her eyes open, letting him pilot her car for once.

Clark and Lois talked a little about the next couple days, the things they both needed to accomplish at work before they left on vacation. Actually, Clark was doing most of the talking, Lois mainly just nodding in the right places while she waited for the caffeine to seep through her.

After a while, Lois turned to glance into the backseat to check on the kids. Jason and Kala had both been noticeably silent. One glance made Lois smile warmly, her hand stealing to the locket she wore. "Clark, look," she whispered.

He glanced into the rear view mirror. Jason had fallen back asleep braced against the door, and Kala's initial wakefulness had ebbed away. She was now leaning on her brother's shoulder, snoozing with her legs curled up on the seat. "Do you remember when they were little enough that they'd both curl up on the same side of the car?" she whispered, watching them.

"I remember," Clark murmured. "I remember having to carry them out of the car and put them to bed like a couple of oversized dolls."

"When they were ten," Lois quipped, and they both chuckled.

"Do you remember the time we told them to be quiet and not bother us for an hour unless someone was bleeding, and we forgot to turn the thermostat up?" Clark asked softly. "They got chilled, snuck into our room, and borrowed my cape."

"Before we made the false back in the closet for your uniforms," Lois remembered. "I wish I could've taken a picture of them wrapped up in the cape, asleep on the couch."

"With our luck, someone would've found it and published it," he replied.

"True," Lois sighed.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, both parents glancing into the backseat to see if the twins intended to wake up anytime soon. They both slept until the car was parked, when Bagel's chuffing woke them. "We're here?" Kala asked blearily.

"Fi' mo' mints," Jason grumbled, thinking he was still in bed at home.

"C'mon, son, we're at the airport," Clark said. With a little encouragement, he and Lois got the kids woken up and out of the car. Jason had reverted to his sleepy-bear shamble, while Kala managed to summon a little wakefulness, even if she did yawn prodigiously several times. Clark helped them with their luggage, and Lois walked ahead of the group with Bagel's carrier, looking for Lana's red hair. The terminal wasn't crowded this early, and if anyone in the family would be bright-eyed at this hour, it would be Lana. She, Richard, and Kristin were supposed to accompany the twins to Smallville…

Lois eventually spotted a gleam of bright auburn, but it was Kristin, being carried by Richard. The reporter laughed, seeing that the little girl had simply rested her head on her father's shoulder and fallen asleep that way. At his feet rested another carrier like Bagel's, and in it was Dusty, bright eyes watching the forest of legs around him. Walking up to her former fiancé, Lois couldn't help teasing, "Red's refusing to be seen in public with you again, and from the looks of things you had to tranquilize Little Red to keep her around. Richard, your luck with women really is awful."

She expected him to joke back, but he just sighed heavily. "Yeah, right," Richard replied. "Lana got called back to Italy this morning. Some huge emergency with the company. She'll fly in to Smallville as soon as it's over, but it'll probably be Christmas Eve before I see my wife again." He glanced past Lois to grin roguishly at Clark. "Mind if I borrow yours?"

Clark just smiled, sliding an arm around Lois' shoulders affectionately while she swatted at Richard, laughing. "I don't think so, Richard. Lois is staying right here in Metropolis with me."

"Wait a minute, you're going to deal with all three kids and two dogs by yourself on the flight out?" Lois asked. "At an hour when we both know you're more likely going to bed than waking up?"

"Hell no," Richard replied instantly. "I'm going to sleep on the flight out and let Jason and Kala take care of Kristin."

Lois looked over at her kids; Jason was swaying slightly on his feet, eyes open just enough to make him look like a deranged zombie, and Kala was yawning again. "You wanna rethink that plan, flyboy?" Lois asked.

Richard surveyed them, and shrugged. "What the hell. We'll all sleep. Even if the little one wakes up, it's not like she can really go anywhere."

"As long as I don't have to explain to Lana why the flight crew wants to adopt her baby girl," Clark said warningly.

"Don't worry, we'll be okay," Richard said. "I promise."

They decided to take him at his word, and everyone exchanged hugs and the occasional kiss before Richard headed off down the concourse with still-sleeping Kristin in his arms, the twins following. Lois leaned against Clark, watching them get into the line for security with a slight frown, and she was holding the locket again without being aware of it. She sighed, and Clark slid his arm around her shoulders. "We'll be there with them in two days," he reminded her.

"I know," she murmured. "I just…"

Whatever she meant to say was cut off by Kala turning around, walking backwards for a few steps. She waved to them and put both hands to her lips, blowing extravagant kisses the same way she had when she was about five years old. Jason turned too, waving, and almost shyly blew a kiss to Lois.

Biting her lip, Lois pretended to snatch those kisses out of the air, and pressed her palm to her cheek. Both teenagers laughed, and then they turned the corner behind frosted glass.

Clark hugged Lois, kissing her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're being silly and you know it, love."

"I know," Lois said quietly.

"Let's go home," he murmured, nuzzling her hair. "You can go back to bed for a while … I might join you for a bit, then I'll go take care of the rest of the world."

Lois yawned again, feeling the effect of too little sleep and too little coffee. "Sounds like a good idea to me, hero," she replied.

Jason and Kala had fallen back asleep at Martha's house, the pair of them tumbled into one bed with their suitcases still unpacked. They slept until almost noon, jet-lagged and confused by the shockingly early start to their day. Only the smell of lunch cooking roused them, and Martha laughed at their appetites. Even knowing that they'd skipped breakfast, the kids ate comically huge portions. Their grandmother understood the Kryptonian metabolism, however, and planned meals accordingly.

After lunch, Martha let the pair head into town, admonishing them to take their coats. Jason and Kala gave her especially long hugs before going out to wander, looking for old friends and visiting the stores. Soon they were in town, surrounded by Smallville residents who'd known them since they were six. They seemed to be attracting more than the usual number of stares, and Jason could guess why.

Kala had always favored dark clothes, but since the summer she had been wearing almost all black. Her style was very elegant, and the immediate family had gotten so used to that quirk of hers that none of them really noticed anymore. At school, well, she was just another Goth kid. Black velvet, black lace, high-heeled boots, and a preponderance of silver jewelry were almost normal at arts school. But out here, where jeans and plaid would never go out of fashion, she stuck out like a black cat in a pack of hounds. Even her coat was an ankle-length black duster she'd found in a thrift shop, and it looked like a prop from some gangster movie set in the 30's.

People were flat-out staring at his sister in surprise and dismay, and Jason cringed inwardly. Not for their opinions – she could dress however she wanted, so far as he was concerned, and anyone who got themselves worked up over mere fashion was a fool in his estimation – but for Kala's ego. Jason, at least, knew that the bossy, brash girl who projected confidence at megawatt levels could be easily wounded by the opinions of others. And from the way she had pressed her lips together in a thin line, she was feeling like an outsider.

Before Jason could think of some way to distract her, Kala announced, "I think I'll go in the general store and get some rock candy." She didn't wait for his response, just rushed off, and he grimaced. That was just like her, too. When she felt threatened, Kala tended to go on the offensive, and right now she was deliberately confronting the store's hangers-on, perhaps the most staid members of the community.

Jason didn't have long to worry about her, though. "Hey, city boy!" a voice jeered. "Betcha you throw like a girl!" A snowball flew through the air and whacked his back.

He whirled and snatched up a handful of snow, flinging it with keen accuracy. Dustin looked quite comical with a face full of snow, and Jason laughed as he went to help his friend brush the clinging frost off. "Betcha I don't," he replied, thwacking Dustin's shoulder affectionately. "How's it going?"

"Great!" the brown-haired boy replied. "I'm A-B honor roll so far this year, and Dad gave me a raise on my allowance for it. Wade's letting me help out at the garage after school, too. How about you?"

"Pretty decent," Jason said. "I'm going with a new girl, Giselle. Here's her picture…" He pulled the photo out of his wallet and showed it to Dustin.

The other boy whistled appreciatively. "Hey now, she's … gorgeous!" he exclaimed. "What'd you do, hypnotize her?"

Jason punched his shoulder, glowering in mock-anger, and the two boys dissolved into laughter. Dustin managed to get his breath back first, and asked, "Speaking of girls, where's your sis…ter… Oh."

Kala was just walking out of the general store, and Jason remembered Dustin hadn't seen her since she went into Goth overdrive. Her shoulders were back, her head held high, and Jason knew that queenly stride and imperious glare meant she'd evidently found the confrontation she sought. Dustin's jaw actually dropped, and he could only stare as she walked up to them.

Jason saw the splinter of hurt in Kala's expression, but she'd composed her features into a superior mask. "You act as though you've never seen a girl before," she said coldly, staring right at Dustin.

"Get the reindeer out from up your butt, Kal," Jason snapped.

She turned that arctic glare on him, but he didn't back down, trying to will her to come to her senses. Didn't she realize how that one sentence had hurt Dustin's feelings? The other boy was taken aback by her attitude, looking wounded, and he was their oldest friend in Smallville.

It might've ended badly, but just then a high voice called out, "Kala! Jason!" The three teenagers whirled to see Kristin pelting up the sidewalk, a manic grin on her face in spite of the fact that she'd only seen them a few hours ago when she and Richard left for the Lang house. Kala's supercilious façade broke at once, and she laughed as Kristin leaped into her arms. Twirling the little girl around, Kala teased, "You are the silliest little sister ever, Little K!"

Kristin just laughed, throwing her arms around Kala's neck. "Eskimo kiss!" she demanded, sticking her nose out. Kala dutifully rubbed noses with her, still chuckling.

"Hey there, Kristin," Dustin said, smiling tentatively at Kala. The black-haired girl actually had a smile for him, and Jason quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Once Kristin had been hugged and kissed by all three, Kala gave her a stick of rock candy. By that time Richard had caught up with them. "I swear, Kala, one day someone's gonna see you with her and ask who the daddy is," he joked.

"And I'm gonna say she's my sister, not my daughter, and to mind their own d…darn business," Kala sighed. "Hello, Daddy."

He reached out and tweaked her nose gently. "Easy on the language, kidlet," Richard warned, provoking a grumble from Kala over the nickname. He turned to the boys and asked, "Hey, Dustin, did these two tell you they're gonna be here through Christmas?"

"Not yet," Dustin replied, "but that's the best news I've had today." He smiled shyly at Kala again, his motives utterly transparent, and Jason groaned.

Clark and Lois had spent their last two days in Metropolis finishing up the shopping and packing, as well as getting everything shipshape at work for Perry to oversee during the holidays. Most of the gifts would remain at the penthouse until Christmas Eve, and they planned to take just one carry-on bag as luggage, which Clark could easily carry. Jason and Kala had taken the main bag with them, since as Lois liked to joke, Kal-El Air didn't take cargo. Still, the carry-on bag would be enough to convince Ben Hubbard that they had actually taken a commercial airline when he and Martha met them at the Kansas City airport.

Mid-afternoon of the day they were supposed to leave, Lois went to get her files for the editorial she intended to write on vacation, and discovered they weren't in her briefcase. Not in her purse, or on her desk, or anywhere else in the house. Clark heard the muttered profanity of the search and came into the study cautiously. "Lois?"

"I must've left my freakin' notes at work," she snapped, shoving her hair back off her face. "Stupid! Now I have to go all the way back to work and we need to leave soon so we can meet Ben and Martha at the airport…"

"Where do you think the notes are in your office?" he asked. "I can go up there and get them for you."

Lois bit her lip; even after all these years, she tended not to just assume Clark would use his powers for her convenience. It never failed to surprise her when he offered, and such simple acts strengthened the sense of wonder and amazement that not even a decade of familiarity could erase. "Should be on my desk, but they could be on the couch, too," she replied. "It's the stuff about the water-use numbers for this year, and the ecology notes on Hob's Bay."

"Be right back," he told her, and was gone.

Moments later, Clark walked into the bullpen, waving to Jimmy. "I thought you were on vacation," the photographer called.

"Lois forgot some notes," Clark replied with a shrug. "We'll be leaving for the airport as soon I get back from here."

"Lucky," Jimmy said. "Tell Lois I said to have a great Christmas."

"I will, if you'll take your own advice," Clark said, grinning. "Give your mom our regards, Jim, and tell your girlfriend we both said 'Merry Christmas', too."

"Will do," Jimmy replied.

Clark turned away from his friend to walk into Lois' office, only to see another young man standing in front of her door. Eastlake. The parallels struck Clark; Eastlake was several years younger than Jimmy, but they were close enough in age to remember the same popular songs and television shows. And Jimmy admired Lois; he'd been sending her a white rose and an anonymous card on Valentine's Day for almost two decades now. The difference was, Clark had known about Jimmy's schoolboy crush ever since they met; he and the young photographer had often sighed over the perpetually-unattainable Lois Lane back in the old days. Clark had managed to win her, though, and Jimmy was ever a gentleman – he had been genuinely happy for her and Clark when they got married, and he was Lois' friend first and foremost.

The investor, on the other hand, barely knew Lois and was already flirting with her. Clark was predisposed to dislike him on another count as well; where Jimmy had worked his way up to his current status as Head Photographer over nearly twenty years with the Daily Planet, Eastlake had inherited all of his wealth and status from his father. He likely didn't understand working and striving for things, and that made Clark wary of him. People who expected life to just hand them whatever they wished for were often lazy and sometimes dangerous; they could be easily angered if balked.

For now, though, he intended to be pleasant to Eastlake, if only because it would shorten their encounter. "Good afternoon, Mr. Eastlake, can I help you?" Clark said.

"I was actually looking for Mrs. Lane-Kent," the younger man said, and for an instant Clark felt his temper flare at such impertinence. In the next moment, though Eastlake was holding up a folder and saying, "I brought her the information she asked for about the computers; I know some people in the business and I might be able to get her a good deal when the Planet upgrades its servers."

"She won't be in today," Clark told him. "We're leaving tonight to spend Christmas at my mother's place in Kansas." Erik looked a little crestfallen, and Clark watched his face closely as he continued, "She happened to leave some files here, and I'm just getting them for her. If you like, I can take that folder to her as well."

If the younger man had looked the least bit startled or nervous, Clark's suspicions about his intentions would have increased exponentially. But the investor just grinned. "Sure, thanks, Mr. Kent. That'll be great," he said, handing Clark the folder. "Tell her to check out the storage capacity these new servers can handle – it's phenomenal, and twice as fast as anything on the market now."

"I will," Clark said, and shook his hand, feeling relieved. "Thank you, Mr. Eastlake."

The investor smiled, and then added one more remark. "You know, Mr. Kent, you really do have an amazing wife."

Clark increased the pressure of his handshake just the tiniest amount; not enough to be uncomfortable even, just a trifle firmer than usual, for emphasis. "I do know that, Mr. Eastlake. I know it very well."

With that taken care of, he headed out, stopping by his friends' desks to wish them merry Christmas. Notes in hand, Clark got on the elevator, but Superman flew across town to make a rapid and unseen landing at the penthouse. Lois was on the phone when Clark came in, and he caught part of her conversation. "Well, you should've let me in on this… Of course I'll keep mum! And enjoy planting a few red herrings in his path… Gotta run, my flight's here. Yeah, love you too, Red."

"That was Lana?" Kal-El asked, handing Lois the notes.

"Mm-hmm," she replied, looking through the information.

"So what's up?" It was a reasonable question, he felt.

Lois, however, didn't seem to agree. "None of your business, Super-Nosy," she retorted, then grinned. "It's a surprise, and I promise you'll know everything by tomorrow. Does that help?"

"It does," Kal-El told her. "Are you ready to fly?"

"With you?" she asked, and her voice dropped to a purr as she reached for him. "Always."

"Did they get lost?" Jason wondered for the fifth time. He was cradling a very sleepy Bagel, who'd spent the day racing around with all her relatives and now snored in his arms.

"No, they probably stopped to save the world," Kala retorted, stamping her feet. It was just a little too cold for her out there without a coat, but she wouldn't go back inside and get one, certain that her parents would arrive while her back was turned. Shaking his head, Richard brought one of the heavy parkas out with him when he joined their vigil, slipping it over Kala's shoulders wordlessly. She grinned up at him, murmuring, "Thanks, Dad."

Jason huffed under his breath, and Richard put an arm around his shoulders, hugging the tall boy. "They'll get here," he insisted. "It's a lovely night – they're probably admiring the stars. Look, you can see the whole Milky Way."

"It's Christmas Eve," Jason said, "and we can't start the bonfire until everyone's here. It's tradition."

Richard sighed, and patted Jason's arm. "Well, everyone isn't gonna be here this year, son."

"You mean Nana?" Kala asked softly, her breath smoking in the cold air. Those strange hazel eyes were so vulnerable that Richard reached out and drew her to him as well, kissing her forehead.

"Ella…" he began, and chuckled. "Well, she's probably watching over us, wondering why we're all freezing our toes off when we can see them land from inside. No, she's not far at all. And your aunt's staying with Ron and the kids at his family's Christmas." He didn't need to add the reason: there had been many Christmases with Ella in Smallville, and Lucy would find the season less shadowed by grief back in Metropolis. Ron's parents adored her, and even the disapproving sister would be polite on the holidays.

"Then who?" Jason asked. "Grandpa Ben? He's right up the road at his old farm with his sons and their families."

Richard sighed. Bagel had awakened, and she stretched her muzzle toward Richard, finding the tiny bit of bare skin between his sleeve and his gloved hand. She licked his wrist, large brown eyes staring up at him sympathetically. "Silly mutt," he whispered, brushing his fingers over her muzzle. To the kids, he said, "Lana won't be here for Christmas. She called while you guys were out here; there's no way she can leave Italy right now."

"Aww, that sucks!" Kala complained. "She can't even get a flight in tomorrow and go back the next day?"

"The way things are going, I'll be lucky if I see her before New Year's," Richard said. "And it's our anniversary. Our tenth. The traditional gift is tin, the modern one is diamonds – I got her an antique tin box shaped like a heart and put a diamond ring in it." He shrugged. "Now she won't get that or her Christmas present until probably January. Life happens."

"Dad," Jason sighed, putting the dog down to hug him. "That really blows."

Kala hugged him too, and Richard let the kids hold him up for a moment. You're not gonna be alone for Christmas, he told himself sternly. You've got almost your whole family here – and it just so happens, everyone who knows the truth about Clark and the twins will be here tonight. Everyone but the one person you need the most. He cut off that line of thought before he got maudlin, kissing both twins. "Hey, guys, it happens," he said. "This is the kind of noble sacrifice a millionaire's boy-toy has to make."

Jason groaned and Kala made retching noises. "Please don't ever say that again," she pleaded. "It's just … urgh. That was gross ten years ago, and it's grosser now. It became supremely gross when we were old enough to know what it meant."

Richard smirked. "Hey, I like being her boy-toy," he protested, and Jason pretended to collapse in disgust. "You'll understand when you grow up."

Kala snorted amusement, and further hilarity was prevented by Bagel's high-pitched bark. The little dog was staring up at the sky, her tail wagging madly. Richard couldn't see anything yet, but Kala and Jason both had better vision. "Dad!" they yelled in unison.

The next moment, Superman was drifting to a graceful landing, Lois in his arms. The romantic picture of their arrival by moonlight was slightly spoiled by the carry-on bag slung over Lois' shoulder, but Richard couldn't help grinning. In moments, Clark was changed, the bag was stowed inside, and Martha came outdoors bundled up in her warmest coat.

Lois had hugged and kissed the twins first, and she was now standing next to the huge pile of dead wood and dry corn husks. "C'mon, Laser-eyes, light it up!" she called. "I'm freezing my ass off!"

Richard couldn't help it; he was standing closer, and smacked her rump. "Nope, still there," he replied casually, and then yelped as Lois smacked him. Everyone else just rolled their eyes at the pair, until Clark cleared his throat.

"If you two are done?" he said gently, smiling at them both. Once he had everyone's attention, he looked at the bonfire – that peculiar look of intense concentration.

A crackle, then the first tongues of flame sprang up. The dry wood caught easily, and soon they had a roaring bonfire. Richard grinned; something about a good fire always seemed to warm the heart. And even if Lana wasn't going to be here, and Kristin was asleep at the Lang house, it would still be a good night.

Martha was handing out long skewers and marshmallows. "Who wants to read The Night before Christmas?" she asked.

Kala had thrust her marshmallow directly into the hottest part of the fire, letting it catch on fire and then blowing out the flames. She wolfed it down, blackened crust and all, and shook her head to indicate that she'd read the poem last year.

It should've been Lana's turn, as Richard suddenly remembered, but Lois was reaching for Martha's copy. "I'll do it," she said, to everyone's surprise. She'd been known to scoff at reading poetry aloud, but not tonight.

While she reread the poem quickly to familiarize herself, Clark patted Richard's shoulder. "You know, if it's really bothering you, I could go get her. She'd be back in Italy tomorrow with none the wiser."

Chagrined that his expression had given his loneliness away, Richard smiled wanly. Before he could say anything to that generous offer, though, Lois interrupted. "Clark? Remember what Lana said about wanting a seat belt if she's gonna fly? I don't think she'd be up to a trans-Atlantic night flight on Kal-El Air."

"She's right," Richard sighed. "You married the adrenaline junkie, Clark, I picked the millionaire. If it doesn't have reclining seats and an in-flight gourmet meal, Lana's not comfortable. I'll be okay."

Clark looked over at Lois for a moment, and Richard wondered what he saw in her expression to make him look so confused. But then the taller man shrugged. "If you say so."

The twins had noticed too, and Kala came over to give Richard a hug. "I love you, Daddy," she told him, with the slightly crazed smile that always reminded him of her at six years old.

"Love you too, Munchkin," Richard replied. "Now come on, I want to hear your mother's rendition of a Christmas classic."

Lois cleared her throat and began, "T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house – not a creature was stirring, not even a freakin' lizard, thank God…"

"Mom!" Jason yelped. "Gazeera's not even here to defend himself!" While the dogs had flown along on this trip, the iguana and ferret were being watched over by Michelle Troupe, who was delighted to pet-sit.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care," Lois continued, "in the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there … and wouldn't pass out from the smell of Richard's socks."

Martha gasped in amusement and shock. "Lois!" she exclaimed, but the reporter only grinned wickedly as she returned to the narrative.

The rest of the family was laughing now and Lois was on a roll. Richard knew she was lightening the mood just for him, and he loved her for it. Loved them all, really; this was his family, minus a few members but still strong, still full of life and love and laughter. "The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of meerkats danced in their heads…"