"You should have called first, Dad," Jenna scolded. "You just about
gave Mr. Kent a heart attack."
Dr. Robert Iverson certainly didn't look like Clark's had imagined he would. He had assumed someone so well known in scientific circles would be somehow grander-like Dr. Garner with his sharp suits, or Lionel Luthor with his mane of hair. With his deeply lined eyes, sandy, graying hair, and gentle smile Iverson really looked much more like what he was: a retired college professor.
Sitting on the Kent's living room sofa, he turned that gentle smile on his daughter, who was pacing up and down.
"Yes, I realize that, but I wasn't sure if I would get here tonight or tomorrow morning." The doctor's crisp British accent had been rounded slightly from years in America. "I was worried about you, Jenna. What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
The man sounded more exasperated than angry. Clark's parents often used the same tone on him. In spite of the man's unexpected appearance Clark warmed to him a bit.
Jonathan, however, did not. He was frowning at the newcomer, still clearly debating whether or not to trust him.
"So he's the one you sent the syringe to?" He finally asked Jenna.
The young woman looked apologetic. "Yes. Of course I didn't know he would hop on a plane and fly out here."
Dr. Iverson turned his smiled on Clark. "How are you feeling, young man?"
"Uh, I feel fine, thank you," Clark fibbed.
"I'd say you're extraordinarily lucky to be alive."
Jenna nodded. "So what was in it?"
The older man shook his head. "Jenna, is this about Dr. Garner? I thought we agreed it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie."
"No, Dad, you agreed," Jenna told him. "And, no, we still don't know for sure if that's who was after Clark."
Martha looked alarmed. "Can you tell us what was in the injection they gave Clark? It wasn't anything poisonous, was it?"
"Not exactly. The needle contained a mixture of several sedatives and narcotics: Rohypnol, Thorazine, Phenobarbital, all at extraordinarily high dosages. Mixed with that was an element I haven't been able to identify yet. I'd say whoever concocted it was simply gambling on the combination producing the desired effect."
Jenna sat down next to her father.
"And the unknown substance is what turned it green?"
"I believe so."
Jonathan shot his son a warning glance and then turned his attention back to the doctor.
"Look, Dr. Iverson, we do appreciate what Jenna did for Clark, and we know you're just trying to help, but this really isn't any of your business."
"Dad, come on." Clark chided. He laid a hand on own his injured shoulder again. "I want to know."
Iverson, however, nodded.
"Believe me, I understand your reluctance, Mr. Kent, and you are entitled to it. But I simply didn't want to sit at home and wait. Whoever you're dealing with has access to some very dangerous chemicals, and obviously is not above using them. Ever since Jack Williams reappeared my daughter had been convinced that Dr. Garner was behind his injuries. I'll admit I wasn't sure what to make of it. But now." He shook his head.
Martha sat down on the doctor's other side and shot her husband a reproving glance.
"You worry about Jenna the way we worry about Clark," Martha said gently. "She rescued him, you know. She did a very brave thing-not everyone would have gotten involved."
Dr. Iverson sighed and rubbed his eyes. Clearly he had already heard the story and wasn't exactly happy about it.
Clark couldn't help but wonder if his parents got that same resigned look on their faces whenever he sped off to save someone. He knew they would never stand in his way, but he'd never really thought about how much worry his actions-even his heroic ones--must cause them. Having an indestructible kid clearly didn't make parents any less prone to worrying about him. Or her.
The doctor laid a hand on the side of his daughter's auburn head. "I know Jenna meant well," he said simply.
Jenna didn't seem too happy with this evaluation. "I couldn't just leave him there, Dad. It's not like I wanted to crash into that windshield and freak everyone out for fun."
"Of course not," he soothed. But he still had that resigned look on his face.
Martha laid a hand on Clark's arm.
"Clark, would you let Dr. Iverson take a look at the wound?"
Clark nodded, but Jonathan held up a hand.
"Wait a second, here, Martha. We don't know anything about this guy." He glanced over at the other man. "No offense."
"None taken."
"Jonathan, right now Clark's health is more important than keeping secrets," Martha told him firmly. "I want the doctor to took at it. Maybe he'll have some idea what is happening to Clark's body."
Seeing a stubborn expression fix itself on his father's face, Clark hastily intervened.
"It's OK, Dad. I want him to. I don't want to stay like this forever."
Jonathan looked from his wife to his son and back again. Finally he sighed.
"All right then."
The doctor sat Clark in a kitchen chair where the light from an overhead fixture was stronger.
"If it makes you feel any better, Mr. Kent," Iverson said, scrubbing his hands with soap and water while Clark unbuttoned his shirt, "my second Ph.D. is in biochemistry, so I do know a fair bit about physiology. Of course the only patient I've ever treated is my daughter."
"Not that I get sick very often," Jenna hastily added. "But we've always figured it would be better not to send me to a doctor for any routine checkups, just in case."
Neither Jonathan nor Martha bothered to point out that Clark's physiology wouldn't look anything like Jenna's.
The doctor carefully peeled back the bandages, while Clark's mother stood by with fresh gauze to recover the wound.
"It looks like it's healed a bit since yesterday," Jonathan offered.
Clark couldn't see the wound too clearly out of the corner of his eye, but he could tell by the expression on his mother's face that it still looked pretty bad.
Dr. Iverson probed carefully at it with the edges of his fingers, and Clark couldn't help but wince slightly. Normally he couldn't feel pain at all, but the meteor rocks had done their job on the tissue surrounding the wound.
"Puncture wounds are always slow to heal-this one is quite deep," Iverson told them in passing as he concentrated on his work.
The others waited silently for several minutes, until impatience got the better of Jenna and she spoke up.
"Well?"
Iverson sat back in his chair. "It looks to me like Clark's body is trying to reject the substance given to him. That would explain the alternating fevers and chills. See here, where the veins have risen to the surface? Again, probably an allergic reaction of some kind."
Clark forgot about being careful. "But I've never been this sick before."
The doctor smiled sympathetically. "Yes, but I daresay you've never had the substance injected subcutaneously before, either."
"So the only reason those other chemicals worked on Clark is because the first one weakened him?" Jonathan surmised.
"That would be my guess." Iverson took the gauze and a clean bandage from Martha and neatly taped them back over the wound. "Unfortunately I can't give your son a timeline for when he'll be back to normal. It could be several more days-it could be weeks. It all depends on how rapidly his body metabolizes the foreign substance."
Clark sighed. It was not the news he had hoped for.
His mother tried to smile.
"Then you just need some more time to rest and build your strength back up, Clark. You'll be good as new in a few days."
No one tried to correct Martha Kent's diagnosis.
*******************************************
Jonathan swung the hale bale over the fence into the stall and brushed off his gloves. As always he found comfort in the regular routine of the farm. No matter what happened in life, there were always cows needing to be milked and corn needing to be planted.
A lot of people said that was exactly what they couldn't stand about farm life. But Jonathan found that sometimes work was the only thing that kept his mind from racing.
He refilled the animals' troughs with water, and then stepped back outside into the fresh air. The sun had only just come up, and dew still lay thickly on the grass. He hadn't slept a wink the night before, and his back had already started to nag at him, but he still looked at the neat farmyard with a proud smile. It wasn't a lot, but it was his.
As he walked back to the house he was surprised to see Dr. Iverson sitting on the porch, a mug of coffee held between his hands. He smiled politely at Jonathan, and Jonathan felt obliged to nod in greeting.
"Didn't expect to see you up and around so early. Thought you academics slept in."
"We generally do, but I've since I've retired I find myself getting up earlier and earlier. And I didn't sleep very well last night."
"Neither did I." Jonathan stared hard at the other man. He hated that these two new people were suddenly involved in Clark's life. Two new people he didn't know and whose intentions he couldn't begin to judge. Still, Clark seemed to want them here, and Jonathan couldn't begrudge his son that.
"I guess we're both worrying about the same thing," Jonathan said thoughtfully.
"I suppose so. No matter how old children get you still worry about them. Mr. Kent, I know you don't want me here. And, as I said last night, I do understand."
"No, I don't think you do." Jonathan looked at the other man steadily. "You know about my son."
"And you know about my daughter," the doctor shot back quickly. "In my book that makes us just about even."
Jonathan glanced away from the other man's eyes, feeling unexpectedly ashamed of himself. He'd forgotten that Jenna wasn't.normal either. Of course it would be only natural that her father would be just as worried about the Kent's as Jonathan was about the Iverson's.
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, made permanently sunburned from years spent outdoors.
"Yeah, I guess it does. As long as Clark wants you here, Dr. Iverson, you're welcome to stay. You and Jenna are both welcome to stay."
************************************************
"Seven of diamonds."
Jenna slapped the card down on top of the pile, looking very pleased with herself.
Clark groaned.
"Man, I stink at this game." He grabbed a card from the second pile, then another, then another.
Jenna laughed. "It's crazy eights, Clark-it's not like there's any strategy involved."
Clark only shook his head as he finally matched Jenna's card.
The two of them were sitting in his loft in the barn. Clark enjoyed the sunshine pouring in through the open window-he'd been inside way too long. This morning he'd woken up feeling well enough to get out of the house for a while, but the barn had been as far as his mother had been willing to let him go.
Dr. Iverson and his dad were out walking the boundary line of the Kent property-Clark figured his dad was probably boring the other man to death with talk about crops and organic gardening. But then maybe someone with Iverson's background actually wanted to hear about that stuff. You never knew.
Clark was a little surprised at how civil the two men had been to each other over breakfast. After they'd left the house he'd asked his mother about it.
"I saw the two of them talking to each other out on the porch this morning," his mother had shrugged as she rinsed the plates. "I think they've come to some kind of understanding."
"Clark? It's your turn again."
Jenna's voice snapped him back to the present.
"Sorry. I was just wondering what our dads are finding to talk about."
"You mean besides their freaky kids?" Jenna shook her head. "Who knows? But I'm kind of glad-my dad doesn't get out much since he retired. Mostly he reads books and fishes in the lake behind our house. Not a lot of human contact involved in either of those."
"Yeah, my dad's whole life is pretty much this farm, my mom, and me," Clark nodded.
"Jenna, do you ever feel bad that we put our parents through so much? So much more than a normal person would?"
Jenna looked at him sternly. "I try not to contemplate things like that, Clark-they give me a headache. I am the way I am, and you are the way you are, and that's the end of it."
"Maybe," Clark sighed. "But I've definitely decided to be more careful."
"You mean like not chasing strange women around Metropolis? Probably a good plan." She studied him for a long moment. "Your dad was right last night, Clark-I think you are getting better. There's color in your cheeks again."
"Thanks. I feel a bit better. At least it doesn't kill me to climb the stairs anymore. I'd like to get back to school by the end of the week, before my homework really starts to pile up. And, speaking of that, aren't you missing your classes?"
"Graduate classes only meet once a week, and I've told the department I have some family stuff to deal with, so it's not a problem. I figure if you're feeling well enough by next week I'll head home to Metropolis and you can get your life back."
Clark smiled at her. "I'll miss you when you're gone."
"Yeah, sure you will."
"No, really, I will. It's been nice having you around--like having a sister. A really, really strong sister."
Jenna laughed out loud. "Whatever you say, Clark." Then she looked more solemn. "Are any of your powers back?"
Clark shook his head. "I tried x-raying the kitchen sink this morning and all I got was a splitting headache. I was able to lift the corner of my bookcase but my back really hurt afterwards."
"Hmm." Jenna held up the ace of spades. "How about your other vision thingy?"
"'Vision thingy'? Is that the technical term?"
"Don't be facetious, Clark. Try."
To humor her Clark focused intently on the playing card. After a moment a thin wisp of smoke curled away from the center.
"You did it!"
"No, not really. Normally it should just burst into flames. It's like I'm running on quarter power."
Jenna studied the smoking card. "Hey, quarter power is still an improvement over no power."
"Clark?" A voice came up the stairs.
Alarmed, Clark looked at Jenna.
"It's Lex Luthor," he said quietly.
So? She mouthed.
He doesn't know, Clark mouthed back.
Jenna nodded, hastily blowing out the smoking card and stuffing it under where she sat on the floor.
"Up here, Lex," Clark called back. Thank God he and Jenna hadn't decided to practice anything else-like, say, throwing the tractor around.
Lex arrived at the top of the stairs, looking cool and polished as always. His long black coat had been thrown casually over a pale blue dress shirt and dark pants, but the effect screamed of expensive tailoring and designer labels.
"Hey, Clark. Lana said you would probably be up and around this morning so I thought I'd drop by." The older man shot an interested glance at Jenna. "Hello."
"Oh, sorry. Lex Luthor, Jenna Iverson. Jenna's been staying with us for a few days, just helping out," Clark explained feebly. He could tell his excuse didn't quite fly by the expression on Lex's face.
But Lex still smiled politely at the woman.
"I'm pleased to met you. I've heard a lot about you. And I'm a fan of your father's work."
"I didn't think geneticists had fans, but thanks, I guess." Jenna seemed wary of Lex, and Clark suddenly remembered the incident at the FutureTech lecture, and that Lex had not remembered seeing Jenna there anymore than Chloe had.
Fortunately for Clark, Lex held out a book for him.
"I know normally you're supposed to bring flowers when someone's sick, but I thought you'd like this better."
The book was a hardbound copy of Nietzsche's Man and Superman.
"Hey, cool. Thanks, Lex."
Jenna rolled her eyes. "Nietzsche?"
"You don't approve of the German philosophers?" Lex asked.
"I don't approve of guys who say the only way to deal with women is to take a whip to them." Jenna glared at the book as if it personally offended her. "Too much Nietzsche has been known to give people delusions of grandeur. Clark, you might want to try some John Dewey, or even some John Stuart Mill."
Lex sat down on the battered sofa. "I take it you're a philosophy major."
"Doctoral student, yes."
"You prefer Utilitarianism?"
"I certainly think it's a better guide to living than old Friedrich there," Jenna shrugged.
Since Clark was out of his depth, he just smiled.
"Well, even if Jenna doesn't approve I appreciate the thought, Lex."
"You're welcome, Clark." Lex still hadn't taken his eyes off Jenna. "So tell me-how did the two of you meet?"
If the line of questioning alarmed Jenna she didn't show it.
"Clark came to see me at Metropolis University. It turns out we both had friends who might have been treated at the Summerhill Institute."
Jenna had succeeding in distracting Lex.
"Really? And where is your friend now?"
"The State Hospital. But if you don't mind I'd really rather not talk about it."
"Of course." Lex leaned forward slightly. "So you might have been right about Dr. Garner, Clark."
"Maybe, but we still don't have any proof."
The sound of a throat being cleared caused them all to look up. Jonathan Kent was standing at the top of the stairs, with Dr. Iverson right behind them.
"I saw your car in the driveway, Lex," Jonathan explained. He didn't look at all happy about it, but Lex stood and shook his hand anyway.
"Hello, Mr. Kent. I just wanted to drop by and see how Clark was feeling."
"That's nice of you, Lex, but Clark is on the mend, as you can see."
Jenna nodded in the direction of the doctor. "That's my father, Mr. Luthor. He says he knows your work, Dad."
"Dr. Iverson, how extraordinary you should be here." Lex seemed genuinely pleased as he shook the other man's hand. "I thought you lived out in Star City."
"I do-I came to visit my daughter," the doctor said simply.
"Well, as your daughter said I am very interested in your work. Your insights into multi-site genetic mutation are fascinating."
Jonathan looked uncomfortable, and Jenna studiously looked in the opposite direction, but Lex didn't seem to pick up on the slight chill in the conversation.
Lex smiled. "You know, my father recently arrived here as well. I believe the two of you were at Princeton together. Did you ever meet?"
"Oh, yes, we met. I knew Lionel quite well, but that was many, many years ago."
Clark raised his eyebrows at Jenna, and she just shrugged.
"I hope you'll consider coming out to the mansion for lunch one day-I would very much like to talk to you."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Luthor, but I don't plan on being here for much longer."
But Lex was never one to take no for an answer.
"Well, perhaps you can find time to squeeze me in. I'll have my secretary call you. Clark, I'm glad you're up and around-I'll see you in a day or two. Ms. Iverson, Dr. Iverson, it was very nice to finally meet you both." Lex nodded politely at Clark's father and said goodbye.
As his descended the stairs and disappeared through the barn door Jenna exhaled loudly.
"Smooth, isn't he?"
"You have no idea," Jonathan Kent frowned.
Dr. Robert Iverson certainly didn't look like Clark's had imagined he would. He had assumed someone so well known in scientific circles would be somehow grander-like Dr. Garner with his sharp suits, or Lionel Luthor with his mane of hair. With his deeply lined eyes, sandy, graying hair, and gentle smile Iverson really looked much more like what he was: a retired college professor.
Sitting on the Kent's living room sofa, he turned that gentle smile on his daughter, who was pacing up and down.
"Yes, I realize that, but I wasn't sure if I would get here tonight or tomorrow morning." The doctor's crisp British accent had been rounded slightly from years in America. "I was worried about you, Jenna. What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
The man sounded more exasperated than angry. Clark's parents often used the same tone on him. In spite of the man's unexpected appearance Clark warmed to him a bit.
Jonathan, however, did not. He was frowning at the newcomer, still clearly debating whether or not to trust him.
"So he's the one you sent the syringe to?" He finally asked Jenna.
The young woman looked apologetic. "Yes. Of course I didn't know he would hop on a plane and fly out here."
Dr. Iverson turned his smiled on Clark. "How are you feeling, young man?"
"Uh, I feel fine, thank you," Clark fibbed.
"I'd say you're extraordinarily lucky to be alive."
Jenna nodded. "So what was in it?"
The older man shook his head. "Jenna, is this about Dr. Garner? I thought we agreed it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie."
"No, Dad, you agreed," Jenna told him. "And, no, we still don't know for sure if that's who was after Clark."
Martha looked alarmed. "Can you tell us what was in the injection they gave Clark? It wasn't anything poisonous, was it?"
"Not exactly. The needle contained a mixture of several sedatives and narcotics: Rohypnol, Thorazine, Phenobarbital, all at extraordinarily high dosages. Mixed with that was an element I haven't been able to identify yet. I'd say whoever concocted it was simply gambling on the combination producing the desired effect."
Jenna sat down next to her father.
"And the unknown substance is what turned it green?"
"I believe so."
Jonathan shot his son a warning glance and then turned his attention back to the doctor.
"Look, Dr. Iverson, we do appreciate what Jenna did for Clark, and we know you're just trying to help, but this really isn't any of your business."
"Dad, come on." Clark chided. He laid a hand on own his injured shoulder again. "I want to know."
Iverson, however, nodded.
"Believe me, I understand your reluctance, Mr. Kent, and you are entitled to it. But I simply didn't want to sit at home and wait. Whoever you're dealing with has access to some very dangerous chemicals, and obviously is not above using them. Ever since Jack Williams reappeared my daughter had been convinced that Dr. Garner was behind his injuries. I'll admit I wasn't sure what to make of it. But now." He shook his head.
Martha sat down on the doctor's other side and shot her husband a reproving glance.
"You worry about Jenna the way we worry about Clark," Martha said gently. "She rescued him, you know. She did a very brave thing-not everyone would have gotten involved."
Dr. Iverson sighed and rubbed his eyes. Clearly he had already heard the story and wasn't exactly happy about it.
Clark couldn't help but wonder if his parents got that same resigned look on their faces whenever he sped off to save someone. He knew they would never stand in his way, but he'd never really thought about how much worry his actions-even his heroic ones--must cause them. Having an indestructible kid clearly didn't make parents any less prone to worrying about him. Or her.
The doctor laid a hand on the side of his daughter's auburn head. "I know Jenna meant well," he said simply.
Jenna didn't seem too happy with this evaluation. "I couldn't just leave him there, Dad. It's not like I wanted to crash into that windshield and freak everyone out for fun."
"Of course not," he soothed. But he still had that resigned look on his face.
Martha laid a hand on Clark's arm.
"Clark, would you let Dr. Iverson take a look at the wound?"
Clark nodded, but Jonathan held up a hand.
"Wait a second, here, Martha. We don't know anything about this guy." He glanced over at the other man. "No offense."
"None taken."
"Jonathan, right now Clark's health is more important than keeping secrets," Martha told him firmly. "I want the doctor to took at it. Maybe he'll have some idea what is happening to Clark's body."
Seeing a stubborn expression fix itself on his father's face, Clark hastily intervened.
"It's OK, Dad. I want him to. I don't want to stay like this forever."
Jonathan looked from his wife to his son and back again. Finally he sighed.
"All right then."
The doctor sat Clark in a kitchen chair where the light from an overhead fixture was stronger.
"If it makes you feel any better, Mr. Kent," Iverson said, scrubbing his hands with soap and water while Clark unbuttoned his shirt, "my second Ph.D. is in biochemistry, so I do know a fair bit about physiology. Of course the only patient I've ever treated is my daughter."
"Not that I get sick very often," Jenna hastily added. "But we've always figured it would be better not to send me to a doctor for any routine checkups, just in case."
Neither Jonathan nor Martha bothered to point out that Clark's physiology wouldn't look anything like Jenna's.
The doctor carefully peeled back the bandages, while Clark's mother stood by with fresh gauze to recover the wound.
"It looks like it's healed a bit since yesterday," Jonathan offered.
Clark couldn't see the wound too clearly out of the corner of his eye, but he could tell by the expression on his mother's face that it still looked pretty bad.
Dr. Iverson probed carefully at it with the edges of his fingers, and Clark couldn't help but wince slightly. Normally he couldn't feel pain at all, but the meteor rocks had done their job on the tissue surrounding the wound.
"Puncture wounds are always slow to heal-this one is quite deep," Iverson told them in passing as he concentrated on his work.
The others waited silently for several minutes, until impatience got the better of Jenna and she spoke up.
"Well?"
Iverson sat back in his chair. "It looks to me like Clark's body is trying to reject the substance given to him. That would explain the alternating fevers and chills. See here, where the veins have risen to the surface? Again, probably an allergic reaction of some kind."
Clark forgot about being careful. "But I've never been this sick before."
The doctor smiled sympathetically. "Yes, but I daresay you've never had the substance injected subcutaneously before, either."
"So the only reason those other chemicals worked on Clark is because the first one weakened him?" Jonathan surmised.
"That would be my guess." Iverson took the gauze and a clean bandage from Martha and neatly taped them back over the wound. "Unfortunately I can't give your son a timeline for when he'll be back to normal. It could be several more days-it could be weeks. It all depends on how rapidly his body metabolizes the foreign substance."
Clark sighed. It was not the news he had hoped for.
His mother tried to smile.
"Then you just need some more time to rest and build your strength back up, Clark. You'll be good as new in a few days."
No one tried to correct Martha Kent's diagnosis.
*******************************************
Jonathan swung the hale bale over the fence into the stall and brushed off his gloves. As always he found comfort in the regular routine of the farm. No matter what happened in life, there were always cows needing to be milked and corn needing to be planted.
A lot of people said that was exactly what they couldn't stand about farm life. But Jonathan found that sometimes work was the only thing that kept his mind from racing.
He refilled the animals' troughs with water, and then stepped back outside into the fresh air. The sun had only just come up, and dew still lay thickly on the grass. He hadn't slept a wink the night before, and his back had already started to nag at him, but he still looked at the neat farmyard with a proud smile. It wasn't a lot, but it was his.
As he walked back to the house he was surprised to see Dr. Iverson sitting on the porch, a mug of coffee held between his hands. He smiled politely at Jonathan, and Jonathan felt obliged to nod in greeting.
"Didn't expect to see you up and around so early. Thought you academics slept in."
"We generally do, but I've since I've retired I find myself getting up earlier and earlier. And I didn't sleep very well last night."
"Neither did I." Jonathan stared hard at the other man. He hated that these two new people were suddenly involved in Clark's life. Two new people he didn't know and whose intentions he couldn't begin to judge. Still, Clark seemed to want them here, and Jonathan couldn't begrudge his son that.
"I guess we're both worrying about the same thing," Jonathan said thoughtfully.
"I suppose so. No matter how old children get you still worry about them. Mr. Kent, I know you don't want me here. And, as I said last night, I do understand."
"No, I don't think you do." Jonathan looked at the other man steadily. "You know about my son."
"And you know about my daughter," the doctor shot back quickly. "In my book that makes us just about even."
Jonathan glanced away from the other man's eyes, feeling unexpectedly ashamed of himself. He'd forgotten that Jenna wasn't.normal either. Of course it would be only natural that her father would be just as worried about the Kent's as Jonathan was about the Iverson's.
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, made permanently sunburned from years spent outdoors.
"Yeah, I guess it does. As long as Clark wants you here, Dr. Iverson, you're welcome to stay. You and Jenna are both welcome to stay."
************************************************
"Seven of diamonds."
Jenna slapped the card down on top of the pile, looking very pleased with herself.
Clark groaned.
"Man, I stink at this game." He grabbed a card from the second pile, then another, then another.
Jenna laughed. "It's crazy eights, Clark-it's not like there's any strategy involved."
Clark only shook his head as he finally matched Jenna's card.
The two of them were sitting in his loft in the barn. Clark enjoyed the sunshine pouring in through the open window-he'd been inside way too long. This morning he'd woken up feeling well enough to get out of the house for a while, but the barn had been as far as his mother had been willing to let him go.
Dr. Iverson and his dad were out walking the boundary line of the Kent property-Clark figured his dad was probably boring the other man to death with talk about crops and organic gardening. But then maybe someone with Iverson's background actually wanted to hear about that stuff. You never knew.
Clark was a little surprised at how civil the two men had been to each other over breakfast. After they'd left the house he'd asked his mother about it.
"I saw the two of them talking to each other out on the porch this morning," his mother had shrugged as she rinsed the plates. "I think they've come to some kind of understanding."
"Clark? It's your turn again."
Jenna's voice snapped him back to the present.
"Sorry. I was just wondering what our dads are finding to talk about."
"You mean besides their freaky kids?" Jenna shook her head. "Who knows? But I'm kind of glad-my dad doesn't get out much since he retired. Mostly he reads books and fishes in the lake behind our house. Not a lot of human contact involved in either of those."
"Yeah, my dad's whole life is pretty much this farm, my mom, and me," Clark nodded.
"Jenna, do you ever feel bad that we put our parents through so much? So much more than a normal person would?"
Jenna looked at him sternly. "I try not to contemplate things like that, Clark-they give me a headache. I am the way I am, and you are the way you are, and that's the end of it."
"Maybe," Clark sighed. "But I've definitely decided to be more careful."
"You mean like not chasing strange women around Metropolis? Probably a good plan." She studied him for a long moment. "Your dad was right last night, Clark-I think you are getting better. There's color in your cheeks again."
"Thanks. I feel a bit better. At least it doesn't kill me to climb the stairs anymore. I'd like to get back to school by the end of the week, before my homework really starts to pile up. And, speaking of that, aren't you missing your classes?"
"Graduate classes only meet once a week, and I've told the department I have some family stuff to deal with, so it's not a problem. I figure if you're feeling well enough by next week I'll head home to Metropolis and you can get your life back."
Clark smiled at her. "I'll miss you when you're gone."
"Yeah, sure you will."
"No, really, I will. It's been nice having you around--like having a sister. A really, really strong sister."
Jenna laughed out loud. "Whatever you say, Clark." Then she looked more solemn. "Are any of your powers back?"
Clark shook his head. "I tried x-raying the kitchen sink this morning and all I got was a splitting headache. I was able to lift the corner of my bookcase but my back really hurt afterwards."
"Hmm." Jenna held up the ace of spades. "How about your other vision thingy?"
"'Vision thingy'? Is that the technical term?"
"Don't be facetious, Clark. Try."
To humor her Clark focused intently on the playing card. After a moment a thin wisp of smoke curled away from the center.
"You did it!"
"No, not really. Normally it should just burst into flames. It's like I'm running on quarter power."
Jenna studied the smoking card. "Hey, quarter power is still an improvement over no power."
"Clark?" A voice came up the stairs.
Alarmed, Clark looked at Jenna.
"It's Lex Luthor," he said quietly.
So? She mouthed.
He doesn't know, Clark mouthed back.
Jenna nodded, hastily blowing out the smoking card and stuffing it under where she sat on the floor.
"Up here, Lex," Clark called back. Thank God he and Jenna hadn't decided to practice anything else-like, say, throwing the tractor around.
Lex arrived at the top of the stairs, looking cool and polished as always. His long black coat had been thrown casually over a pale blue dress shirt and dark pants, but the effect screamed of expensive tailoring and designer labels.
"Hey, Clark. Lana said you would probably be up and around this morning so I thought I'd drop by." The older man shot an interested glance at Jenna. "Hello."
"Oh, sorry. Lex Luthor, Jenna Iverson. Jenna's been staying with us for a few days, just helping out," Clark explained feebly. He could tell his excuse didn't quite fly by the expression on Lex's face.
But Lex still smiled politely at the woman.
"I'm pleased to met you. I've heard a lot about you. And I'm a fan of your father's work."
"I didn't think geneticists had fans, but thanks, I guess." Jenna seemed wary of Lex, and Clark suddenly remembered the incident at the FutureTech lecture, and that Lex had not remembered seeing Jenna there anymore than Chloe had.
Fortunately for Clark, Lex held out a book for him.
"I know normally you're supposed to bring flowers when someone's sick, but I thought you'd like this better."
The book was a hardbound copy of Nietzsche's Man and Superman.
"Hey, cool. Thanks, Lex."
Jenna rolled her eyes. "Nietzsche?"
"You don't approve of the German philosophers?" Lex asked.
"I don't approve of guys who say the only way to deal with women is to take a whip to them." Jenna glared at the book as if it personally offended her. "Too much Nietzsche has been known to give people delusions of grandeur. Clark, you might want to try some John Dewey, or even some John Stuart Mill."
Lex sat down on the battered sofa. "I take it you're a philosophy major."
"Doctoral student, yes."
"You prefer Utilitarianism?"
"I certainly think it's a better guide to living than old Friedrich there," Jenna shrugged.
Since Clark was out of his depth, he just smiled.
"Well, even if Jenna doesn't approve I appreciate the thought, Lex."
"You're welcome, Clark." Lex still hadn't taken his eyes off Jenna. "So tell me-how did the two of you meet?"
If the line of questioning alarmed Jenna she didn't show it.
"Clark came to see me at Metropolis University. It turns out we both had friends who might have been treated at the Summerhill Institute."
Jenna had succeeding in distracting Lex.
"Really? And where is your friend now?"
"The State Hospital. But if you don't mind I'd really rather not talk about it."
"Of course." Lex leaned forward slightly. "So you might have been right about Dr. Garner, Clark."
"Maybe, but we still don't have any proof."
The sound of a throat being cleared caused them all to look up. Jonathan Kent was standing at the top of the stairs, with Dr. Iverson right behind them.
"I saw your car in the driveway, Lex," Jonathan explained. He didn't look at all happy about it, but Lex stood and shook his hand anyway.
"Hello, Mr. Kent. I just wanted to drop by and see how Clark was feeling."
"That's nice of you, Lex, but Clark is on the mend, as you can see."
Jenna nodded in the direction of the doctor. "That's my father, Mr. Luthor. He says he knows your work, Dad."
"Dr. Iverson, how extraordinary you should be here." Lex seemed genuinely pleased as he shook the other man's hand. "I thought you lived out in Star City."
"I do-I came to visit my daughter," the doctor said simply.
"Well, as your daughter said I am very interested in your work. Your insights into multi-site genetic mutation are fascinating."
Jonathan looked uncomfortable, and Jenna studiously looked in the opposite direction, but Lex didn't seem to pick up on the slight chill in the conversation.
Lex smiled. "You know, my father recently arrived here as well. I believe the two of you were at Princeton together. Did you ever meet?"
"Oh, yes, we met. I knew Lionel quite well, but that was many, many years ago."
Clark raised his eyebrows at Jenna, and she just shrugged.
"I hope you'll consider coming out to the mansion for lunch one day-I would very much like to talk to you."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Luthor, but I don't plan on being here for much longer."
But Lex was never one to take no for an answer.
"Well, perhaps you can find time to squeeze me in. I'll have my secretary call you. Clark, I'm glad you're up and around-I'll see you in a day or two. Ms. Iverson, Dr. Iverson, it was very nice to finally meet you both." Lex nodded politely at Clark's father and said goodbye.
As his descended the stairs and disappeared through the barn door Jenna exhaled loudly.
"Smooth, isn't he?"
"You have no idea," Jonathan Kent frowned.