The first part of the chapter starts during Ryan, and after the break line continues after Lex has turned up with the restraining order. Obviously parts of the plot have changed. The rest of the episode will play out in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Sipping at her cup of coffee, Martha sifted through the reports on her lap, underlining anything that might be of interest with her pencil. Secretly she had hoped that this part of her job might come to an end after it became clear that the return of Lionel's sight was a permenant feature, as the people compiling them seemed to struggle with the word succinct, and it meant a good hour - at least - of reading every night. However, Lionel had confided he much prefered her half page statement of all the reports compiled and had insisted she continue with it, meaning that their routine of morning coffee and discussion was unchanged. She supposed it was nice that her work was appreciated, but it didn't give the task itself anymore enjoyment. She shifted slightly, her pencil tapping against the paper as her mind drifted. She enjoyed her morning meetings with Lionel, he was always suprisingly relaxed at them. Originally she had made them coffee and brought it to him, but recently it was waiting when she arrived,along with an assortment of breakfast items that certainly wouldn't do her figure any good long term. A smile curved her lips, she felt she saw a different side of Lionel Luthor at these meetings, he would smile and make witty insights and sometimes she even thought he might be teasing her.

Martha shook her head, she was getting carried away, thinking too much into this, no doubt he was simply basking in being back to his old self and there was nothing more to it. That he persisted in these morning meetings meant that they must be benefiting him somewhere, after all he wasn't going to keep them up just for the sake of having her company. She snorted softly in amusement at that thought, because the thought of Lionel Luthor wanting to spend his time entertaining her was somewhat ludicrous. Yes there had been that kiss, but they both knew that had been an error, a moment of sheer madness, that she absolutely had to stop thinking about.

She bit down on her bottom lip, a frown furrowing her features. She was just lonely she told herself again, that was why she had been thinking about that kiss so much. It also accounted for why she felt a - rather alarming, if she were to be honest - shoot of lust whenever he touched her, his hand had brushed her lower back today when he'd guided her through a door and she had actually felt the blush that had fired up her cheeks. Thank God he hadn't noticed. Martha tutted at herself, she had to get a grip, Lionel Luthor had no interest in her beyond the professional and she shouldn't have any interest in him. After all, while he may be witty, charming and sometimes even thoughtful, he was also ruthless and sometimes even just dangerous. That that added to the intrigue she had about him and spurred on her attraction could not be a good thing. Loneliness, she told herself again, that's what this was. She was happy in Smallville but she had always been Jonathan's wife or Clark's Mom, very few had seen past either of those things to get to know her. That had never bothered her, until now, until she was a widow, not a wife and her son was looking - quite rightly - to his own furture. So where did that leave her? Apparantly lusting after unsuitable men.

A loud, insistent banging at the kitchen door, grabbed her attention, pulling her from her thoughts. Martha got up, almost grateful that she had something else to do than dwell on the confusion that now lurked around her thoughts on Lionel Luthor. She was surprised and slightly alarmed to see Sheriff Miller once again standing awkwardly on her porch step, an unknown and rather angry looking man accompanying him. "Is something wrong?" She asked anxiously as she swung open the screen door.

"You can say that again," came the irate bark of the unpleasant man who was now practically vibrating with rage.

Etha held up his hand, his tone placating but firm as he told him, "Sir, I appreciate your situation but let me deal with this." He looked up at Martha and gave her a tense smile. "If it's alright with you I'd prefer if we spoke inside."

"Of course," Martha replied, stepping back into her kitchen to let the two men in.

Taking off his hat, Ethan bunched the rim in his hands as he cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking. "It's a bit awkward, Martha...ah Mrs Kent." He shot a side-long glance at his companion. "Dr Garner here claims that Clark has um...well that he's kidnapped one of his patients."

Martha felt her mouth gape at that statement. "Excuse me?" She spluttered. "Clark? There must be a mistake."

"There isn't a mistake!" Dr Garner snapped, turning on her, the vein in his forehead pulsing. "Your son, came in my facil-hospital," he corrected himself hastily, "And kidnapped Ryan James."

"Ryan James," Martha repeated.

"I believe the boy stayed with yourself and Jonathan for a short time last year," Ethan added.

"He did. But Ryan went to stay with his aunt."

"Who passed legal care of Ryan to myself when he became...unwell."

Martha decided that her first, unfavourable, impression of Dr Garner had in fact been the correct one. She didn't like the way he hesitated over the word unwell, never mind the use of the word facility. "I'm sorry to hear that Ryan has been ill, but I don't see why you think Clark removed him from hospital."

Ethan cleared his throat awkwardly again, his feet shuffling as he held out a black and white security image. "I'm sorry Martha, but this picture clearly shows Clark carrying Ryan out the emergency exit."

Martha's lips thinned as she observed the image, it was a good thing her son could run fast, because she was going to struggle not to throw something at him when he finally appeared home. "It does, but I still don't understand why Clark would do this."

"Had he spoken to Ryan recently?"

"They stayed in touch, but I didn't monitor their correspondence."

"Perhaps you should have," Dr Garner snapped, his face twisting in anger.

"Or perhaps we should look at why my son supposedly thought it was necessary to remove Ryan from your care," Martha snapped. "You seem more annoyed than concerned that Ryan has gone."

"Of course I'm concerned," he amended hastily.

"I think we can all agree that there is a lot of concern here," Ethan concluded. "Martha, do you know where Clark is now?"

"No," she admitted.

Dr Garner's response was an angry hiss. "If you know what's good for you, you'll give us more information than that."

"I was at work and as Clark's curfew hasn't passed I simply thought he was at a friends."

Ethan gave a sigh. "This could potentially be a serious offence we're talking about here, if-"

His sentence was cut short by the door opening, and they all looked over to see a slightly sheepish looking Clark step into the kitchen. "Thank God," Martha murmured under her breath.

Dr Garner rounded on him. "Where's Ryan? What you've done is an offence."

Clark ignored him, looking at Ethan he said, "Ryan wanted to leave with me, that's not illegal. It is however a crime to hold someone against their will, which is what this man was doing to him."

"How dare you!"

Continuing to ignore him, Clark stated, "He only wants until 9am tomorrow."

Rubbing at his head, Ethan looked between the three of them, finally concluding, "It does look as though the boy left of his own free will, in which case he can't be thought of as missing until we reach 24 hours."

"You must be kidding," Dr Garner snapped peevishly.

"I don't think law enforcement is known for their sense of humour," Martha told him dryly.

"Ryan will be here tomorrow when we get here at 9am?" Ethan asked Clark.

"You have my word."

"For what it's worth," came the angry hiss. Garner raised a pointed finger in Clark's direction. "I will search every inch of this farm, rip it apart if I have to, I want Ryan returned to my care."

Clark glared at him, and Martha stepped forward. "I think that's enough for tonight, I will see you both in the morning, in the meantime if you could excuse us, Clark and I have things to discuss."

She waited until she heard their car pull out of the drive before turning to glare at her son. "Explain," she demanded.

He at least had the grace to look slightly abashed, his gaze sliding from hers for a moment before meeting it once again. "Ryan phoned me," he admitted. "Looking for help. He said that he was being kept at this facility. They had restrained him Mom."

Martha sighed. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"I didn't want to worry you, so I got Chloe to look into it."

"And decided that kidnapping was the best solution?"

Clark rubbed at the back of his neck. "I wasn't really thinking by that point."

"Believe me that much is obvious."

"Ryan's aunt couldn't live with his capabilites, so she pretty much sold him to Dr Garner."

Martha shook her head. "That poor boy. Where is he now?"

"I can't tell you."

"Clark!"

He backed up slightly at the anger in her voice. "I don't want you to get into any trouble. I have a plan."

"I don't currently find that reassuring," she told him, her teeth gritted together.

"I know." He slid past her awkwardly, trying to smile as he did so. "Honestly though Mom, it's going to be ok." He kissed her cheek before jogging up the stairs.

"You're awfully calm for someone who just commited a felony," she yelled after him.

"It's not a felony yet," came the quick return.

Martha sunk her head into her hands and groaned, she should really get up there and demand a full explanation, but she knew she wasn't going to get very far tonight. She only hoped that Clark actually did know what he was doing, and to think she had originally been relieved by the interuption.

Lionel glanced at his desk clock, it was after nine and Martha wasn't here yet, and she was never late. He leaned back in his chair and attempted to quash the feeling of concern that flickered through him, he would never get used to that sensation. He took a sip of his coffee, looking across to where her mug was resting, unable to help himself from smiling.

Their morning meetings had started as a necessity, as had her reports, but they had been short and concise and although he was normally loathe to trust others to sum up important information for him, he found that she did so impeccably. As for the meetings, he had simply enjoyed them, enjoyed the way she gradually relaxed and the conversation would drift away from work, it allowed him to find out more about her. The only difficulty was trying to supress just what he was now thinking about her, trying to contain himself. Yesterday, he had, unthinkingly, let his hand brush against the small of her back, his fingertips grazing the fabric of her blouse, and he had seen the flush that coloured her cheeks ever so slightly and heard the catch in her breath. It had taken all of his control not to press her against the door frame. His fingers had curled into a fist of tension, and he forced himself to straighten them again. He took a deep breath, God how he wanted her.

The door opened and finally Martha rushed in, offering a rather harried smile as she placed the reports onto his desk. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

"Is everything ok?"

"It will be," she told him. "There was a...misunderstanding."

He arched an eyebrow. "Sounds intriguing." He waved his hand. "I'm sure you'll need coffee while you fill me in."

"You don't want me to cut straight to the report?"

"No, I thought that I would get an explanation for why you were late." His mouth twitched in amusement. "Isn't that what an employer is supposed to do?"

"It is, but it's a long story."

"Summarize," Lionel advised. He tapped the report she'd put in front of him. "You're good at that."

Martha dipped her head for a moment as she tried to hide her smile. "Then I'll do my best. It would appear that I have a new addition to my household. Jonathan and I temporarily fostered him last year and it would appear he is once again in need of a home."

"And you're happy to provide one?"

"Of course," she answered easily. "He's a young boy, alone in the world, he needs some form of stability."

"Will he be a permenant feature?"

"I hope so," she admitted.

Lionel looked at her in surprise, took in the soft expression in her eyes, the way her eyes creased ever so slightly at the corners, he'd noticed how they did that when her smile was genuine rather than simply poilte. It had been a cause of great celebration when he'd realised that she was yet to fake smile at him. It made no difference to him if Martha decided to adopt again, unless... "Would you keep working if he is?"

"I would have to," she laughed. "With two growing boys to feed, they'd eat me out of house and home in a week."

"How old is he?"

"Ryan is twelve."

"Difficult age. Although I never did find an easy one," he admitted.

"I don't think there is one," she confided, finally taking a mouthful of coffee.

Lionel watched the elegant line of her throat as she swallowed, waiting a second to ask, "You didn't want to adopt again before now?"

"It wasn't that we didn't want to, just given the...circumstances of Clark's adoption, Jonathan and I felt it would be unwise to tempt fate."

"The papers would have stood up to scrutiny," he informed her.

Martha took another measured drink, she could hardly admit that it wasn't the paperwork, but rather Clark's abilities and the need to keep everything a secret that stopped them from even considering another child. "We didn't want to take the risk," she replied after a moment. "Clark was everything I ever wanted." She shook her head and offered him another smile. "I'm sorry, I've strayed from my point. Should we get back to work?"

"Soon." He eyed her with interest. "Is that why you stayed on the farm?"

"I stayed because I was needed, it was a family business and we were a family. I didn't miss Metropolis, or the rat race," she confessed.

"And now?"

"I enjoy my job, more than I thought I would," came the admission.

"High praise," Lionel chuckled. "I'm just surprised. You're an intelligent woman, farming hardly seems like enough of a challenge for you."

"If you were to try it you'd find it more challenging than you'd expect," Martha replied, her tone hardening slightly.

Lionel held up a placating hand. "I meant no offence. I'm aware of the hard physical labour, just given your background-"

"You're not the first person to say that, but then life sends us down paths we don't expect." She gave a shrug. "I had my son and husband, and the farm kept me occupied."

Lionel noted with interest the use of the word occupied. He didn't believe for a moment that Martha Kent had been entirely fulfilled by her life, content, yes, but a woman who threw herself into the challenge of his business must have wondered from time to time what else she could do when she was stuck at home. "And now you have a career and soon enough another teenager to manage. I dont envy you the latter," he teased.

"He's a nice boy. He deserves a chance."

He wondered if perhaps Martha Kent might be a collector of broken things, determined to help, to make things better. It was normally a trait he sneered at, looked down upon, but with her it was somewhat endearing. It should concern him that he felt like that about her, but as he looked into her blue eyes he found himself struck with the inability to care. "And you and Clark are determined to give him one," he guessed.

"Yes," she declared firmly. She tapped her finger against the report. "Now we should probably get back to work. I've held the day back enough already."

"Very well." He slid the manilla folder out from under her finger, ensuring that the side of his hand brushed her skin. "I suppose we should get started."

Martha forced herself not to gasp at the unexpected glancing touch and instead nodded she watched him peruse the document, his keen eyes scanning each line, his brow furrowed thoughfully as his long fingers tapped against the desk. She pulled her gaze away, she wasn't thinking about this she told herself firmly. Work, she thought, you're here to work. She wouldn't be caught checking out Lionel Luthor. Head in the game, she told herself, forcing her mind back to more professional matters.