Stepping into her kitchen, her arms laden with paperwork, Martha felt a jolt of alarm when she saw Clark raking through the cupboards, leaving the doors hanging open. Her eyes darted to the cupboard under the sink and she was relieved to see that it looked untouched. Forcing a note of calm into her voice, she asked, "What are doing?"

He shot her a sheepish smile. "I was going to make you dinner," he admitted, "but I don't know where anything is kept."

"So, you thought you'd destroy my kitchen in the process?" She teased, trying to stop herself from hurtling towards the cupboard and checking the flour tin for the key. Irrational panic was still surging through her and it took all her effort not to let it show.

Clark rubbed the back of his head as he looked around the chaos he had caused. "I didn't realise how much mess I had made."

"Out of interest what were you planning to make?"

"Um…I hadn't actually decided, I was trying to see what we had and what I could make with it."

Martha looked around the mess and gave a sigh as she shook her head, a smile still in place, he had meant well after all. "I think I have some sausage casserole left in the fridge. Why don't you heat that up for us? Then technically you've still made dinner."

"Sounds good, I hadn't actually got around to checking in there yet." He opened the fridge and pulled out the casserole dish, staring between that and the stove.

"In at two twenty for forty minutes," she told him without looking up from the papers she was trying to put on the counter without toppling them, it would make her evening so much easier if she didn't have to try and put it back into order.

"Got it." He pushed it into the oven before turning around and asking her, "So how's work?"

Martha looked up at her son and smiled. "It's hectic but good, I can't believe I've only been there a week. I need to sort the staff rotas tonight, they're in a bit of a mess."

Clark looked slightly affronted, cutting in hastily, "Well Lana did have a lot to deal with."

Realising she hadn't thought through her words and how Clark could take them as a slight about the girl he was determined that was the only girl for him – Martha thought otherwise – she replied in a conciliatory tone, "I didn't mean anything against Lana, I know she did the best she could."

He deflated slightly at that. "Sorry, she's been a bit upset at being replaced, the Talon is important to her."

"I know and I've already spoken to her about continuing with the promotional aspect of the business. A large portion of the business comes from high school students so it would be invaluable to have her viewpoint on increasing that customer base."

"She didn't mention that," Clark admitted.

Martha tilted her head to one side and studied her son's expressions carefully as she asked, "Is everything ok between you and Lana?"

He grimaced, his eyes darting downwards to the floor as he replied, "She uh…she thinks that I asked Lex to give you a job and that's why she's been pushed out. She wanted to keep running the Talon herself."

Forcing herself not to bristle at his words, Martha took in a deep breath. She had nothing against Lana Lang, but the girl was too much like her aunt. Nell had always been rather self-entitled, if she wanted something then she expected to get it and even if she didn't particularly want it – as was the case with Jonathan – she still resented it when anyone else stepped in. Lana could be sweet but she shared that quality and if she was honest she didn't want Clark being dragged into that, he had enough to deal with without adding the whims Lana Lang on top. He wouldn't see that of course and so she bit her tongue on her real thoughts on a potential relationship between them and that she would prefer if they remained friends. "I assume you told her otherwise."

"I tried." He dug his hands into his pockets, flushing slightly, telling her, "Thing is I did tell Lex that I thought you were missing work."

"I know, he mentioned that." Martha smiled at the look of surprise on Clark's face. "You think the thought didn't occur to me when he offered me the job?"

"I was afraid that maybe that was what brought it on, that it might have been my fault that Lana isn't running the Talon."

"Clark, the Talon is a business and Lex needs to run it as such. Lana can't give it the time it needs and that decision has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, I suppose I just need to wait for Lana to calm down a bit. She's had a lot to deal with recently." He looked at her and shot her a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it though. It must be nicer than working for Lionel."

Martha felt her breath catch at the statement, she had tried for the last three weeks not to think about him. It had been more difficult this week as she had been working for Lex and at times she couldn't help but draw comparisons or note the similarities between them. "It's different," she told him. "They're completely different roles."

He gave a slight roll of his eyes. "Yeah but surely it's better than working for someone so unscrupulous."

Her stomach lurched at his description of Lionel. She knew he had his faults, that he had investigated Clark behind her back and his parting words stayed with her but she also couldn't seem to dismiss the good times they had shared, and he hadn't been a bad employer just a bad choice for a personal relationship. No, not a relationship she corrected herself quickly, a…a fling, that's what it had been. "It didn't end well," she replied carefully. "But it wasn't all bad, the work was challenging and it was good to use my brain."

Clark nodded. "I suppose I can see that." He glanced down at the oven. "This is going to take ages."

"It won't be that long," she laughed. "Although while it's cooking I might go for a shower, you happy to keep an eye?"

"Yeah, course."

Martha couldn't help but let her eyes drift in the direction of the sink cupboard again, although she kept a note of levity in her voice as she asked, "And I take it you're done tearing apart the kitchen?"

"Think I'll give it a rest for tonight."

"Glad to hear it."

The water sluicing over her, Martha closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall, finally letting the thoughts she had pressed down for the last few weeks run riot in her mind. She wanted to curse Lionel for bringing that Godforsaken key back into their lives, she didn't want Clark to discover it. It was selfish and she knew it, but she was afraid, afraid that if he knew about it then he would want to know more about his origins and that he would leave and not come back. She knew that like any other child he would grow up and that he would have to go and make his own way in life, but the idea that he might leave this world was too much for her. She'd lost her husband, he wouldn't lose her son.

Her stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought of Jonathan, since her rendezvous with Lionel had ended the guilt she had supressed had become more prominent, harder to ignore. What made it worse was that she actually missed Lionel's company, that occasionally she would catch herself thinking about him and not always in anger. She wasn't a fool, she didn't trust him and she didn't plan to seek him out, but sometimes she caught herself missing his company, the way that he would make her laugh, make her feel important. Then she would think of Jonathan and she felt guilty, it was him she should be missing. She did miss him, when it had all gone disastrously wrong with Lionel she had thought of Jonathan, of how honest he was and how she had betrayed his memory by falling into bed with Lionel Luthor.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. What was wrong with her? She had loved her husband unreservedly, so why had she let herself be swayed by Lionel's charm? And why was she continuing to think about him? Jonathan had protected their family, prioritised her and their son, done whatever he had to do to keep them all safe, even when it had cost him his life, a fact she could never tell Clark. Lionel had flashes of good in him, but he prioritised what he wanted and needed. He could be charming, witty, and sometimes even caring and considerate but it was always under his own terms and she wasn't fool enough to think that that could change.

The night she had handed in her resignation she had stood in this shower and sobbed until she physically couldn't cry anymore. She had cried for Jonathan and her betrayal of him, cried for Clark, for the fear he would one day leave or that Lionel's investigations would put him in danger and she cried for herself, that she had let herself feel for a man who she meant nothing to.

Her spine stiffened, she wouldn't be crying tonight, she decided firmly. She might not know what Lionel's next move would be but she could face it, she could and would deal with it, she would keep Clark safe. Biting down on her bottom lip she remembered his words, that he would leave it alone, for her. She didn't trust him, but she wondered if that may work in her favour. Only time would tell. First things first though, she had to move that key, it couldn't stay there, it was only a matter of time before he found it. Tomorrow, she would move it tomorrow before Clark was up, to somewhere he wouldn't think to look.

Martha's back was to him as she stared out of the picture windows at the city lights of the Metropolis skyline. She was dressed only in his shirt, which he was amused to see swamped her and she had rolled up the sleeves, whilst her hair was tousled and mused.

"I wondered where you had gotten to," he remarked after a moment.

She jumped, turning swiftly, her hand fluttering to her chest, resting there briefly. "Lionel, you startled me."

He stepped behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he pressed a kiss to the side of her brow. "My apologies, I didn't mean to."

Her hands slid to cover his, her hips pressing against his. "I suppose this time I can let it slide."

Lionel smiled. "Very generous of you." He glanced out at the view, he had always enjoyed looking out over the top of the city, feeling superior to everyone else. "Couldn't you sleep?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't that, I woke up, needed some water and I suppose I was distracted. I didn't really pay attention to it earlier, it really is spectacular."

"Well I aim to impress."

Martha rolled her eyes at him. "And you're so modest with it."

"Where did modesty ever get anyone?" His fingers stroked at her midriff through the material of the shirt, smiling as it made her press tighter and closer against him. "Do you miss it?" he asked.

"No," she replied honestly. "I don't really think about the city much."

"It must have been quite the change, to give up all this for the life of a farmer's wife."

"I can't pretend that every moment of my life with Jonathan was easy, but I loved him so I didn't look back. The city couldn't offer me what he did," she concluded simply. "But it does look beautiful in its own way."

He didn't reply, he wondered if Jonathan Kent had been aware of how lucky he was in having Martha as his wife. Lillian had never been able to adapt to his lifestyle, despite belong to the upper echelons of Metropolis society she had hated the security that was required in the latter days and despised his long hours, unable or unwilling to understand why he kept pushing for more. He hadn't wanted to be simply successful, he had wanted to be the best. She had later claimed that her illness made her see that it was the simple things in life that were truly important but he had known that love alone couldn't save her, research into her heart condition might, and to control that it was money and power that was required. Unthinkingly he pressed a light kiss to Martha's temple, feeling her relax further into his embrace. "Come back to bed," he murmured softly.

She turned into his arms, her face tilting upwards and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She smiled, pressing a kiss to the soft pad of his fingertip. "I suppose we do have a rather limited time together."

"Exactly." He dipped his head, his mouth finding the exact spot on her neck that made her squirm against him, a gasp escaping her. He smirked, chuckling against her skin, his fingers spearing into her hair, continuing, "We should make the most of it."

"We should move away from the windows," she laughed breathlessly. "Someone might see."

Shaking his head, he told her, "You don't honestly think I'd let my home be overlooked, there's a tint on the windows. He moved to press her against the glass, his voice dropping to a near growl, "I could take you here and no one else would ever know."

Her eyes met his, her smile holding a hint of mischievousness, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she challenged him, "Well why don't you then?"

Lionel let out an irritated hiss, forcing himself to cut his memory short as he threw the remainder of his drink back his throat as he stared out across Metropolis, spread out beneath his feet just as he'd always wanted. It felt hollow, everything felt hollow when all he could think about was her. Dammit, he missed her. Barely an hour went by that his mind didn't drift to Martha Kent, he missed her honesty, her straight forwardness. Already in the three weeks since they had parted ways, he had gone through four assistants, they had managed to irritate him without even trying. Or it was just the fact that they weren't her.

His fingers tapped agitatedly against his thighs as he remembered his last words to her, that whispered, lingering threat. He knew that's how she would have taken it, had he meant it like that? Sometimes he wasn't sure if that was what he meant. He'd wanted her to know that he could protect her secrets but he was used to having to manipulate to get what he wanted, even in relationships. With Lillian, he had wanted it to be different, but as she pulled away from him, he had reacted in the only way he'd known how. Lillian had stayed, but Martha had walked away, it made him admire her all the more.

Part of him had truly believed, perhaps even hoped that she would be the one to come back to him, but he knew that she wouldn't. That she had kept the watch gave him hope, but as time ticked by, he realised that she wasn't going to suddenly walk back into his world. If he wanted her then he would have to go get her.

Lionel's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered his options, he couldn't apologise, the words would always stick in his throat, but he was sure he could win her round. It was time to return to Smallville, maybe start by paying Lex a visit. Tomorrow, he decided, he would head back to Smallville tomorrow.

Yup, we are heading into Fever next.

I have it all in my head, but I'm not sure how long it will take to get it down.