I do not own anything in connection to Smallville, Alan Rickman or anything else that might be owned by someone besides me. Everything else is my own weird imagination.

Author's note: WASUP? I just can't seem to get caught up. I'm trying, but I have a love for books and I found a really great series that has wrapped my attention. So Smallville and the Anita Blake novels, written by Laurell K. Hamilton, are fighting for my attention. I think Smallville will win out because I'm on book six out of ten and Smallville has more episodes. Oh well.

Also, I've gotten some reviews criticizing my spelling abilities. I respect you're opinions but I must say that if I, my spell checker, and one of three different proof readers don't catch it . . . . well yeah. I'm doing my best and trying to catch all the little errors but as the saying goes . . . Hukt on foniks werkt for me.

Notes on the story: Yes, Chloe is really saying something. If you can figure it out, then hurray for you. The seating arrangement for the couch is as follows. From left to right: Lionel, Martha, Pete, Lex, Clark, Jonathan, Alan Rickman, Chloe.

Enjoy! (Big Evil Smile)

**************************************************************************** ********************

Lex, Clark and Alan Rickman sit in The Talon. They are completely bored out of their heads. Apparently Lana had gone though a 'Rerun Spring Fever' craze and had rearranged the furniture in the coffee shop. There was now a very large couch on one wall that could sit several people comfortably.

Lex could still not remember if the couch had been there before or if it was new. He almost didn't care because he had his groupies attending to his needs. One was massaging his neck, two doing the same to his feet, several fanning him and a few more feeding him grapes. But almost wasn't good enough.

Lex growled. "Stupid Little Doe Eyed Cookie Cutter High School Student Tramp of a . . ." His curses trailed off into incoherent mumblings.

Clark sighed heavily. A lone groupie massaged his shoulders. "Lex, stop insulting Lana. She's just as annoyed at the long stretch of reruns as you are. And she's my friend. I wouldn't let her say bad things about you so don't say bad things about her."

"Yes Clark, but I haven't been dragging you along like some second-best-boy- toy since Kindergarten. And she stole the entire episode with her Meteor Freak Of The Week Obsessive Boy-toy. We are the main people, we should get the most air time."

"Well Lex, she is kind of the leading lady. And we had our moments. I personally think you stole the episode with that little scene where your dad was playing the piano. That was pure . . . . I can't think of a word, but it was good."

Lex smirks in memory. "Yeah, it's funny how I can do that. Remember that time I smashed the meter maids car in with the nine iron? I had maybe five minuets of airtime . . . but damn it was good."

Alan groans. "Bloody Hell. I can't even remember what the rest of the episode was about."

All three stop and try to remember the main plot of that episode. Finely they shrug their shoulders, grunt and go back to staring into space.

Clark breaks the silence. "So you're not going to be mad at Lana any more?"

Lex makes a face. "Hell yeah. She rearranged The Talon when it looked just fine the way it was . . . and where did this couch come from?"

"I don't know but it's comfy. I could . . . almost . . . go to . . . sleep." Clark begins to snore.

Lex groans. "Wonderful." A groupie comes over with a cup of coffee and hands it to Lex. He smirks up at her. "Thank you Bambi."

Bambi giggles. "Your welcome."

Lex gratefully sips the coffee. "It's good to be the Demigod."

Clark mumbles in his sleep. "I'm the prettiest!"

Lex shakes his head and sighs heavily.

Alan slowly turns his head to Lex. "The couch was my doing. Since you people have no intention of rerunning this hideous episode, I used some of my Professor Snape power to conger a couch that could fit all the cast members . . . . except Lana."

"You hate her too?"

Alan motions to a sleeping Clark. "Lex, she is currently pining after a man who tossed The Prettiest across a yard. Not only does my loyalty to The Deities forbid me to sympathize with her, but did you see that Football Player she went after instead of Clark? Now don't get me wrong, he has attractive qualities . . . none of which I can think of right now . . ."

"The jar head tied him to a Cross in the middle of a field. Not only was that cruel, but it was uncivilized. If Lana stayed with him after finding that out then well . . . Clark's my friend and I have a duty to hate all who try to hurt him. Doe Eyes be damned."

Alan nods his head slowly. "Exactly. Though I think Clark never told anyone about the whole thing. In fact I think only you, Clark and the audience know. I don't even think there's room in Lana's plot line for that knowledge."

Lex shrugs. "Alan, I've been hit on the head so many times in the past two years I can't remember any of Lana's plot lines. Besides, they are all stupid and involve crazy people stalking her."

Alan barely inclines his chin. "Word."

Lex mumbles something in return. He looks up to see Jonathan Kent stalk in to the coffee shop. "Hi Mr. Kent."

Jonathan mumbles something and slumps onto the couch. Clark is jolted from his sleep and growls. "Who woke me up?"

Jonathan pats his son on the shoulder. "Sorry son. Thought you were a heavy sleeper."

Clark moans and immediately falls back to sleep. Jonathan turns to Lex in puzzlement. "What's up with him?"

"Rerun Spring Fever. And apparently the couch is really comfy."

Jonathan nods knowingly. "Oh." He then changes the subject. " It's a nice couch. I don't remember seeing it before."

"You either? At least I know I'm not hallucinating . . . much." Lex smirks mockingly at Alan.

Alan growls. "Well that's the last time I do anything nice for any of you people."

Jonathan inclines his head. "Hey, Alan. How are you doing?"

"I'd be better if I didn't have to suffer through months of reruns . . . though do you know what would make it better?" He leans in and whispers. "Southern Comfort."

Jonathan smiles a Good-o'll-boy smile and pulls out a three liter bottle of whisky. "Alan, you know I always have it with me . . . especially when Clark is developing new gifts."

Lex sits up and stares at the bottle. "Mr. Kent, I never knew you carried around alcohol."

"Lex, there are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Obviously."

Bambi saunters up with two half filled mugs of coffee and hand them to Jonathan and Alan. Jonathan nods at Bambi. "Why thank you little lady."

Bambi giggles. "Your welcome cowboy."

Alan is filling up the mugs with whisky. "Thank god for Southern Comfort." He leans over to fill Lex's cup but Jonathan snorts angrily. "Are we not sharing with bald billionaires today?"

Jonathan growls and mumbles. "He's too young."

Lex lifts an eyebrow. "Mr. Kent I'm twenty something. And besides, I've been drinking since I lost my hair."

Jonathan growls again and tries to think of a viable reason to deny Lex HIS whisky. Alan sighs. "Jonathan, you don't hate Lex enough to make him go through the rest of the episode sober do you?"

Jonathan thinks for a moment and then sighs heavily. "No, I may not like Lex, but I'm not a cruel, hateful, vengeful, evil person."

Lex stares blankly at Jonathan. "Goody."

After the whisky is pored out the three men, and one sleeping Clark, stare blankly into space. Jonathan slowly takes in the groupies around Lex and makes a face. "You know Lex, I never thought you were the type to have groupies."

"Me neither, but then this whole Demigod thing started and they just kind of flocked to me. Sometimes it gets kind of boring."

Alan grumbles. "Try having The Voice. I can't say a single thing with out having any woman within the range of my voice shivering with pleasure."

All of Lex's groupies shiver. "OOOOOOO!"

Alan rolls his eyes. "See what I mean?"

Jonathan makes a face. "Can't you just tell them to go away?"

Lex shrugs. "No, I just lend them out to non demigods . . . Do you want a few?"

Jonathan looks uncomfortable. "I don't think it would be appropriate. I'm a farmer, and their cute little outfits might get mud on them. Plus Martha would kill me."

"Two things Mr. Kent." He holds up two fingers to emphasize his point. "One . . . mud wrestling. Two . . . they wouldn't have sex with you no matter what you do, Trust me I've tried, so Martha would have no reason to kill you. And as an added bonus . . . Three . . . I have enough to go around so if Martha wants her own she can have them. She can consider it a bonus for putting up with my bastard of a father."

Jonathan seems to like the mud wrestling idea. "OK." Lex snaps his fingers and several groupies that were sitting at tables saunter up. Lex just points at Jonathan and the groupies go to work. More fans start waving, the grapes are handled lovingly, and Jonathan's boots are quickly removed. The pampering begins. "I could get used to this. . . why doesn't Clark have many groupies?"

"He didn't want them."

Jonathan sighs and sips his 'coffee'. "Now I know I didn't intentionally raise a stupid son . . ."

Alan laughs. He has already downed the first cup and is going for two. "Jonathan he is a mild mannered farm boy, soon to be a reporter, and he is The Prettiest . . ."

Clark mumbles in his sleep. "I'm The Prettiest!"

Alan raises an eyebrow at Clark. "Right."

Out of nowhere, a very caffeine-high Chloe appears and sits next to Alan. She is bouncing with caffeine and talking very fast. "Ohmygod.DidyouseewhathappenedtothecarPetewasthrowninto?"

Everyone stares blankly at her as is they couldn't understand what she is saying. The bouncing has woken Clark up. "Chloe, what are you doing?"

Chloe is still bouncing. "Clark! ThecarthatthemeteorfreakoftheweektossedPeteintolikearagdollOhmygodit'ssocool . Istillcan'tbelieveyouwern'thurtbutohwelliguesssomepeopleareluckythatway."

Lex is staring openmouthed at Chloe. "What The Hell Is She Saying!?"

Clark shrugs as he downs his dad's 'Coffee'. Jonathan doesn't notice because he is also staring at a bouncing Chloe. Clark shrugs again. "Something about the plot line. Even with my super speed hearing, I can't understand Chloe on a caffeine high."

Lex quirks an eyebrow at Clark. "Wait a minuet. You're actually admitting that you have super abilities? What about your big secret and all that?"

Clark shrugs. "It's a rerun."

"Oh."

"And this will never make it to Air anyways, the producers wont allow it."

Jonathan mutters. "Damn Producers!" He turns back to Chloe. "Um, Chloe, just how many cups of coffee have you had?"

"ForbreakfastIhadoneplainonewithsugaronewithcreamonewithcreamandsugar. Formidmorningsnackihadafrapachinocappuccinomochachinoahalfandhalflatteadecaf fbutthatdidn'thelpfivemorefrapachinosacoffeeican'tpronounceapartridgeinapear tree. Ialsohadseveralpottsfromtheteacherslounge. Ifoundifyougoattherighttimeyoucanstealatleastacuportwoatatime. Petethinksit'sstealingbutthecoffeeissohorribletheteachersdon'tdrinkthatmucha nyway. OhandIhadanentierjugfromtheLexCorp.plantyouknowthosebigmassquantitycoffeemak ers?"

All look to Clark for clarification. Clark shrugs. "I think it came out to 35 or 40, though I'm not sure how much coffee can be made in one of those mass quantity coffee makers at the plant."

Lex's mouth drops open again. "She drank an entire one of those?"

Clark nods. "Among others."

Lex's expression borders on horror and awe. "Daaaaaamn!"

Alan puts his hand on Chloe's head to try and stop her from bouncing. This only results in Alan's hand going up and down with her as she bounces. "SoClarkhaveyoudecidedtodumptheLanaideaandgoforsomeonewhoismoremature?"

Clark raises an eyebrow. "All I got was Lana."

"SureyouwouldonlypickLanaoutofmyfastspeechyouareinlovewithherandcanseeonlyhe r. SometimesIwonderwhyievenbotherwithyoubecauseyouleftmeatthedancetogosaveprett ylittleLana."

Alan uses his other hand to rub his head in frustration. "How do we pacify her?"

Chloe suddenly stops bouncing and shivers. "OOOOOOOOOO!!!!" She stares at Alan for a few silent seconds and then begins bouncing even more furiously. "OHMYGODYOURALANRICKMAN!!! IloveyourworkyouarelikethebestactorofalltimecanIgetaninterviewordoyounotgive them? IsawyouindangerousliaisonsandonGalaxyQuestandonDogmaandonBlowdry. MyfavorieisHarryPotteryoumakethebestProffesserSnapeandyourcloakissocoolcanIp etit?"

Alan speaks very slowly so every word is drawn out. "Please be quiet."

Chloe Shivers again, "OOOOOO!!!!" and stays quiet for a longer period of time. "Iloveyourvoice."

"I will keep speaking if you promise that when you speak, you do so slowly."

"OK!"

"Good. Now . . . ." Alan keeps speaking as the other men choke down chuckles.

Lex can't help but smirk. "I think we found a way to pacify the investigative reporter."

Jonathan takes a long swig from his whisky bottle, still not realizing Clark drank his 'coffee'. "Thank God!"

Lex holds out his Coffee cup for a refill. "If only all problems were so easy."

Clark is observing Chloe, now lounging out on the couch and convulsing with shivers, and Alan who is whispering to her. "If only Pete could see this."

With a gust of wind and a flash of lightning Pete appears in a black spandex suit and cape. He takes a hero stance by puffing out his chest and lifting his chin. "Did someone call for The Black Superhero?"

Everyone, including Chloe, look at him in bewilderment. Lex's mouth drops open again, Jonathan takes a big swig of whisky and Clark raises an eyebrow and stifles down giggles. "Pete, what are you wearing?"

Pete puffs his chest out more causing Lex, Jonathan, Alan and Chloe to burst out in giggles. Pete huffs. "It's my superhero costume. When I'm not being Clark's 'Bad-Guy-Punching-Bag' I rid the world of lies, injustice . . . And all that stuff."

Clark furrows his eyebrows. "But I though you got a broken arm when the meteor freak of the week tossed you into that car."

"Pete the Punching Bag did; Pete the Superhero does not get broken arms."

Lex has his giggles under control now. "So why are you in your Superhero outfit? Here you're Punching-Bag-Pete."

Pete shrugs. "It's a rerun."

Everyone accepts his explanation and goes back to what they were doing. Pete sits beside Lex and Bambi comes over with a half-filled coffee mug for him. He makes a face at the cup just as Jonathan notices that someone drank his 'coffee'. "Clark, did you drink my Southern Comfort Coffee?"

Clark raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, like three hours ago dad."

Alan clears his throat. "Dose anyone have a phone book? I'm running out of material to keep Miss. Sullivan busy and someone told me once I could read a phone book and still pull of a Shakespearian mood."

Lex pulls a large leather day planner from somewhere and tosses it to Alan. "Have fun."

"Thanks . . ." he turns back to a drooling Chloe. "Adams, Robert E. 555- 5555 . . . "

Jonathan sighs, Ignoring Lex and Alan. "Son, you know you're too young to drink that."

Clark looks sheepish. "Sorry, but I already drained the cup before I realized what it was."

Lex coughs something into his fist. "BullSh--!"

Pete grimaces at the cup in his hands. "Why does the Black Man get cheated on the coffee?"

Lex looks into Pete's cup. "It's so you can fill the rest up with whisky."

Pete's face brightens. "Well, hook a brother up man!"

Jonathan grimaces. "You boy's are too young to be drinking whisky!"

"Well, actually Mr. Kent, in the real world we are all older than the drinking age . . . well, all except for Lana that is."

Every one exchanges meaningful looks. Jonathan shrugs. "Oh, why not! Just as long as your mother doesn't find out."

Everyone smiles and Bambi brings over a cup for Clark and a pot of coffee for refills. Clark speaks after downing another cup of 'coffee'. "Speaking of mom, where is she?"

Lex checks his watch. "I assume she and my father are getting tormented in the helicopter."

Clark sighs heavily. "Guess I should go and save them."

"I wish there was a way to save your mom but not my dad."

"Me too."

Jonathan sighs. "Me three."

Pete sighs too. "Me four."

Chloe is still drooling. "OOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Five."

Alan smiles evilly. "Well, I could always teleport your mother here and leave Lex's father there."

Everyone brightens up. "Really?!"

Alan shrugs. "Sure."

Everyone speaks in unison. "DO IT!!"

Alan smiles and pulls out a walky-talky looking thing and speaks into it. "Alan Rickman to Captain Picard."

A voice comes back over the walky-talky. "Patrick Stewart likes sex. Next question."

"Riiight."

"Oh sorry. I thought I was still seducing, um, talking to Mir. What would you like Sex-God-Who-Stole-The-Title-From-Me, but I'm not jealous?"

Alan ignores Picard's jab. "Captain, can you beam Mrs. Kent to the Talon for me?"

"But of course you underhanded cheating Cabana Boy."

Alan rolls his eyes. "Thank you. And don't call me a Cabana Boy."

"Why not? Want to give up your tile?"

"No, but if I'm one then your one. "

Growling could be heard on the other side of the com link. "Fine! Picard out!"

Alan chuckled as he put up the Walky-talky. "Ah Patrick Stewart. He always putts a smile on my face."

Clark makes a face and looks questioningly at Alan. "But you two were fighting."

Alan smiled widely. "And I won."

Shimmering fills the room and Martha and Lionel appear next to Pete. Lionel is clinging to Martha for dear life. When Martha realizes they aren't in the helicopter she becomes puzzled. "How did we get in the Talon?"

Lionel lets Martha go from a grip that could almost be seen as groping. "Talon? What? What happened?"

"We were magically saved and brought to the Talon."

Alan snorts. "It's called a transporter and it was only suppose to bring Mrs. Kent."

Lionel smirks. "Well, it looks like I foiled another assassination plot. Martha, would you like to be my bodyguard?"

Martha looks genuinely puzzled. "But I thought I was your personal assistant."

Lionel thinks for a second. "Your right, same difference." There are a few moments of silence. "Lex, I'm disappointed in you."

Lex downs an entire coffee cup of whisky. "What did I do now?"

Lionel shrugs. "Nothing. I just haven't said it this episode yet."

"Wonderful."

Martha eyes widen as she sees Pete and Clark downing 'Coffee'. "Boys! What are you drinking?!"

Clark gulps in fear. "It's OK mom. In the real world, we are of legal age to drink."

Lex adds in matter-of-factly. "And Lana isn't."

Martha is about to object but thinks better of it. "Well, as long as you are in the real world."

Jonathan offers the whisky bottle to his wife. "Want some sweetie? I know dealing with Lionel can be grating on the nerves."

"Why yes honey, I would love some." Bambi arrives with another coffee cup and more refills. Martha smiles brightly at Bambi. "Why thank you."

Bambi giggles. "Your welcome."

Clark mumbles to Lex. "She giggles a lot."

Lex nods. "Yeah, but she's the most intelligent out of all my groupies."

"So she gets coffee duty?"

"It's more complicated than fanning or massaging."

"Oh"

Lionel grimaces. "Don't I get some whisky too?"

Everyone replies in unison. "NO!"

Lionel grumbles. "Fine, I'll just buy the coffee shop and have it make coffee only for me."

Everyone ignores him.

Martha downs the entire cup is one long gulp and gets a refill. She finally notices the groupies hanging all over her husband. "Jonathan Kent! I know that you do not have groupies hanging all over you!!"

Jonathan looks worried. "It's OK honey, these are Lex's groupies. All that they are capable of is fanning, massaging, and feeding people grapes. Your still my only gal."

Martha bristles with anger. "Women Are Touching You!!!"

Lex tries to play mediator. "Martha, it's just a job for them. They aren't designed to do anything but be groupies. I've tried everything to seduce them and they resist me. I'm the Sex Demigod. If I can't get them into bed I don't think Jonathan can."

"But still . . . "

"You can have your own."

Martha stops her argument and thinks about it. "Well Lex, I couldn't possibly . . . "

"Consider it a Christmas bonus for dealing with my father and almost getting killed because of him."

"OK, I suppose I need some pampering after that helicopter."

Lex smiles a 'Lex smile', snaps his fingers and points at Martha. Groupies move up and begin pampering Martha. The only difference between the guys pampering and her pampering is that Martha is getting a manicure.

Lionel snorts. "Don't I get groupies Lex?"

"No."

"But I'm your father . . . "

"No."

"But . . . "

"NO!!!"

Suddenly Lana bursts into the Talon. She is crying and is limping because she only has one high heal on. "Help Me! Help Me! The Meteor Rock Freak Of The Week is trying to get me!"

Everyone just stares at her.

"Help Me! Clark why aren't you helping me?"

Clark stares blankly at her. "Because you made a jab at my manliness when you went ga-ga over the Meteor Freak Of The Week because he could recite poetry."

"I'm sorry Clark. That was before I knew he was some sort of weirdo."

Lex snorts. "And that makes a difference how?"

Lana thinks for a minute. " I don't know . . . Is that a new couch? Lex, I like it, but it takes up too much room."

Alan groans. "Absolute last time I do anything for you people." All the women shiver "Oooooooo". "Oh for crying out loud! I give up!"

Lana stares at Alan. "Are you Alan Rickman?"

"Yes."

"Can I have you?"

"What about Clark?"

"Clark who?"

Alan sighs and puts his head in his hand. "Oh Bloody Hell!"

Lex grumbles. "And people wonder why I hate her." The Meteor Freak Of The Week bursts into the Talon and growls. Lana squeaks. "Help Me! Help Me!"

Everyone just stares. Lex raises an eyebrow. "Riiight."

Lana is angrily crying. "I lost my parents when I was a little girl! Everyone should pity me and be nice to me! Boo Hoo!"

Everyone just stares.

"And Whitney is missing in action!"

Everyone is still staring.

Lana stomps her foot and pouts. "I'm one of the main stars! This is my episode! Why won't anyone help me?"

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Because it is a rerun."

"But this is MY episode!!"

Lex motions to The Meteor Rock Freak Of the week. His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You already got prince charming. What more could you want?"

"Who likes poetry." Clark adds in. He is slightly upset by this fact.

Lana huffs angrily. "But that was BEFORE I found out he was a weirdo."

The Meteor Freak Of The Week stalks over. He growls and hoists Lana over his shoulder. She screams and kicks but the guy doesn't notice. He growls again and runs out of the Talon with Lana over his shoulder.

Everyone just stares. Clark breaks the silence. "I guess I should go after her and save her."

Lex nods. "That would be the 'Clark' thing to do."

Clark gets up and super runs out of the Talon. A second later he's back and angry. He slums down in his spot on the couch and downs another cup of 'coffee'.

Everyone looks puzzled. Lex raises an eyebrow. "That was fast."

Clark shrugs. "They made up . . . oh and they are making out in your Porsche."

Lex groans and rolls his eyes. "Wonderful."

Clark raises an eyebrow. He is still angry that he had to expend energy. "Would you like me to kick them out for you?"

Lex huffs. "No . . . But it's my Porsche and SHE'S in it. It would be one thing if she were in it with you but she's not. And I don't want Lana germs in My Porsche."

Pete shrugs. "Well Lex, it IS Lana's episode."

Alan smirks. "Relax Lex, this is a family show. The worst they can do is make-out."

"Not in MY Porsche, they aren't."

Jonathan nods. "Lex, let her have some fun."

"In MY Porsche?"

Martha leans over and pats Lex on the head. "Yes Lex, in YOUR Porsche. "

"But It's Lana!"

Jonathan gets 'parental'. "We didn't even rerun her episode. It's only fair that Lana gets to be in a fast car with her Lover Of The Week. Besides, we get the Whisky."

Lex grumbles and downs a cup of whisky. "Fine. I'll just burn that one and drive one of my other fifty sport cars." He grumbles some more.

Martha gets a weird look in her eye. "Jonathan, I don't want to undermine your sense of fairness, but I don't think it's fair to let Lana have all the . . . Fun."

Jonathan smirks at his wife. "Are you thinking what I think your thinking?"

Martha raises an eyebrow. "Maybe."

Martha and Jonathan stare at each other for a few seconds. Jonathan then jumps up, takes his wife by the hands and they rush out of the Talon giggling. Jonathan mumbles something over his shoulder to Clark about him not coming home for a few hours.

Everyone watches them go in stunned silence.

Alan curls his hands around the whisky bottle Jonathan left and looks at the other occupants questioningly. "Does anyone else want to split with their significant others to . . . Have fun?"

Pete shrugs. "I don't have a significant other. With no Black Women in town, I can't have a girlfriend. The producers don't want to upset Whitey."

Lionel huffs. "Now I know all those Black People tried to say I was . . . Whitey, but I honestly don't mind if you date some one other than a black woman . . . Just as long as it is not my son."

Lex rolls his eyes and moans. "Two words dad . . . Jail Bait." He thinks for a second. "Oh, and I'm NOT GAY!!!"

Lionel smiles. "That's never stopped me."

"DAD!"

Lionel sighs. "Fine son, I'll behave . . . for now. Mwahahahahahaha."

Every one stares blankly at Lionel. Alan shakes his head and turns to Chloe. "What about you my Little Blonde Reporting Pixy?"

Chloe stops drooling long enough to answer the question slowly. "I still have unresolved feelings for Clark. And besides Clark, Lex, Pete, Mr. Kent, Mr. Luthor Sr. (In a very weird and hairy way, don't ask), and every other man in Smallville, there really isn't all that much Hot Guy to look at. I must say I don't have a lot of prospects."

Alan arches an eyebrow. "Riight." He turns to Clark. "And you Prettiest who can't seem to get and keep a date?"

Clark grumbles. "I'm the Prettiest!"

"Well that answers that . . . Lex?"

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Are you crazy? With the women I've been shacking up with?"

Alan smiles. "Well with no other significant others to get in the way . . . let's party!"

Lionel growls. "Does no one want to know if I have a significant other? Martha perhaps?"

Everyone replies in unison. "NO!"

*** And thus the characters of Smallville avoid rerunning one of their least favorite episodes . . . except for the part where Lex and Lionel have the piano scene . . . but that's beside the point. ***

NEXT TIME ON SMALLVILLE . . .