Flap

by margroks

Something small turns into something big and the best laid plans of man and Superman go awry.

Flap

The rights to the characters of Smallville belong to its producers, the WB Network and DC Comics. The rights to the characters of JAG belong to Bellasario Productions and CBS Entertainment. I own them not.

Once again, I have the inestimable Paperbkryter to thank for inspiration.

It was a fine tom turkey, the kind most Americans would covet when they looked for a big bird to take center stage at the traditional Thanksgiving Day feast. This particular turkey came from a little town in Kansas, the very heartland of America but it wouldn't end up on a serving platter; it would, instead, be given a reprieve and the President of the United States, one Alexander Luthor and his Vice-President, one Peter William Ross, were waiting to do just that.

The Pardoning of the Thanksgiving Turkey had become an annual event in which one hapless turkey was paraded before the highest officials in the land to be admired, petted and eventually given an official pardon and a new lease on life; forever spared the fate that awaited so many of his brethren every November. Normally, this was just a little "feel good" event, where the serious business of running the government of the Unites States was put aside for a time while everyone, government officials and those they governed, alike, enjoyed a few moments of light hearted amusement and charity with a creature which would more often have been a part of their culinary fantasies. Ever since the designated turkey had gotten a little feisty with former President Bill Clinton (some of the elderly staff still chuckled over that particular event), the birds were carefully screened and it was rumored, sedated, if necessary, to prevent any unfortunate incidents. There was even a back-up turkey in case the first choice proved to be unacceptable for some reason.

This promised to be another such event, a little bit of levity before the treaty signing with the newly formed country of Upper Moldavia, got under way. The ambassador from Upper Moldavia stood quietly in the background in order to witness this event which he thought very strange, to say the least. People in his part of the world languished in prisons for minor offenses with no one to pardon them and Americans pardoned birds with such pomp and ceremony…the strangeness of it was not lost on him. The ambassador, senior minister plenipotentiary, hoped to bring change to his country and an alliance with America would aid in his plan.

The ceremony was about to commence and two reporters from the Daily Planet, Clark Kent and Lois Lane, came racing in the doors at the last minute, edging their way toward the front of the crowd. As the turkey handlers opened up the cage and prepared to lead the big bird (and it was a big one, even for a tom turkey) Clark smiled, memories of Thanksgivings past and simpler times, alive again. He looked closely at Lex and thought he saw the uneasiness as the President of the United States eyed the bird. Apparently, that incident with the turkey one year had never been forgotten and Clark suppressed a laugh. Clark had told Pete later and Pete was obviously trying to hide a smirk; he obviously hadn't forgotten the incident, either.

"What's so funny, Clark?" Lois whispered.

He leaned down and said quietly, "One Thanksgiving Lex came over and our turkey sorta treed him on top of his car-"

"Oh, I heard all about it. Pete thought it was hilarious that Lex got cornered by the main course."

"Hard to believe they're serving together; I'd never have guessed things would turn out this way. I'm glad they finally buried the hatchet."

"Yeah, well, luckily Pete didn't bury it in Lex!" she snorted.

"They're starting the ceremony." He stood up to his full height to get a better view, watching as the turkey was led to the platform and urged to get up on the table in front of the President and Vice-President. The bird seemed skittish and didn't want to go. One of the handlers was pulling on the lead strap and two more came from behind thinking to lift it or push it up onto the table.

"Come on, Clark! We can get closer." Lois took off, elbowing her way past other members of the press core to get to the front and Clark followed, watching with amusement as she plowed through the crowd. He heard a reporter from the Washington Post yelp out loud as Lois passed by, saying sweetly how sorry she was to have stepped on his foot. They were at the front near the podium in no time where they could plainly see that the turkey did not want to go where it was supposed to.

Up on the dais, Lex Luthor backed up slightly, almost stepping on the toes of his vice-president. Pete Ross leaned over and said quietly, "Are you thinking we oughta throw the book at this one, Mr. President?"

Lex laughed nervously. "Did Clark ever tell you about the time-"

"Oh, yeah." Pete couldn't help grinning but when the turkey turned its head and glared at him malevolently with two bright green eyes; he took a step back. Pointing to the bird, he whispered, "Uh…I've never seen a turkey with eyes that color."

The White House press secretary was announcing the beginning of the ceremony from behind the podium and away from what was becoming a scuffle of sorts. He laughed somewhat nervously, himself. "Welcome to the official Pardoning of the Turkey Ceremony…the guest of honor doesn't seem to appreciate his good fortune…" The turkey had scrabbled backward and bumped the podium, sending the speaker's papers and notes fluttering off onto the floor. Now another handler had joined in the fray and two people were pulling on the big bird's lead while several people were pushing from behind. "This lucky bird has come to us all the way from Smallville, Kansas, former home of both the President and the Vice-President. Perhaps one of them could say a few soothing words to their constituent."

Lex leaned over to an aid and asked, "Isn't that thing supposed to be tranqued before it gets nervous?"

"Yes, Mr. President, he was. I don't know why he's still so…Ahh!" The aid jumped back out of the way when the bird bumped his leg as it headed back in the direction of its cage, determined, it seemed, not to be pardoned for anything today.

Pete Ross looked over at the cage it had been in and noticed something green glittering on the bottom. The hair on the back of his neck stood up; he was getting a very bad feeling about this. Pete looked over at Clark and waved, trying to get his attention. Pete pointed to the cage and kept making a face, waggling his eyebrows and twisting up the corner of his mouth, Elvis-like, while jerking his head in that same direction.

"Uh…folks…you might want to move back a bit, there…" the press secretary was saying as he took a few steps backward away from the recalcitrant fowl.

Pete grasped Lex's arm and tried to pull him back behind the podium and Lex, who'd already been having a Thanksgiving flashback, moved willingly.

Clark tried to get a better at the look at the bird, still chuckling at everyone's obvious discomfort. He was thinking that, really, this was not going to be a job for Superman; the Secret Service could surely handle one obstreperous turkey… Clark finally noticed Pete attempting to get his attention and followed his facial contortions to the cage where he immediately saw something green. He took a closer look with his telescopic vision and groaned when he saw what was there. Wouldn't you just know it. Kryptonite. And, now that he took another, closer look at the bird itself…yes, that bird was definitely getting bigger.

Other people in the room had started to move away from the turkey, sensing, if not seeing, that something was wrong. Additional Secret Service agents had entered the room and were starting to usher people into an auxiliary waiting area so they might "corral" the bird. Several of them had taken the Moldavian ambassador away, as well, just as a precaution and the President's and Vice-President's dedicated agents were moving in to secure the safety of their own important charges. Unfortunately, there would be no corralling this bird, today.

Lex looked over at the turkey just as his own secret service personnel started to move him away from the bird. He turned to Pete and said, "Is that bird getting bigger?"

The turkey wranglers dropped the lead when the bird bolted through the doorway into the next room and some very loud squawking was heard as it took off down a hallway. There was quiet for a moment then a scream was heard from somewhere in the distance along with the sound of breaking glass then a lot of thumping and yelling could be heard, growing louder as the ruckus moved back in the direction of the assembly. Several more screams were heard, closer now and the sound of splintering wood came abruptly from the room next door. Then the door that had been hastily closed after the bird's departure flew off its hinges, the door frame and a large chunk of the wall with it and the bird reappeared. Everyone in the room backed up en masse as far away as they could get from the now huge and hulking creature.

The bird was now so big it had to hunker down to keep from scraping the ceiling as it moved. The turkey slowly moved its great head back and forth, in a sinuous, snake-like motion as it made a horrible deep gobbling sound. It brought its glowing eyes to bear on the crowd as though it was searching for something and the secret service agents rushed Lex Luthor and Peter Ross out onto the balcony of the conference room, thinking to spirit the two men away before any harm could come to them. Unfortunately, the movement had attracted the bird's attention as it circled once more and it zeroed in on the men outside. It took two steps and crushed through the doors leading to the balcony and with one great leap, took to the air, grabbing the President of the United States, who hadn't ducked soon enough, in one large claw, as it passed overhead.

Peter William Ross yelled, "I thought turkeys couldn't fly!" and looked frantically for Clark. He turned and watched as Lex Luthor was carried away over the city of Washington until he and his captor were no more than a dot on the horizon.

An aid came running up yelling, "The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is on the line, Sir. They're calling about the…incursion into restricted airspace over Washington and… They've seen the…the…the…"

"Turkey!"

"The turkey on radar!"

Pete grabbed the phone, "What is it? It's a turkey and it's as big as a…wait-" He turned to an aid beside him, "Calm down, man; I need you to focus." and began speaking into the phone again. "Listen to me…what? Am I assuming command…?" Did the President being kidnapped by a giant mutated turkey count as his being incapacitated? Yes, I guess it does. "Yes, until the President is rescued, I'm assuming command." Pete turned to another aid, who was trying to say something but whose teeth were chattering so badly, Pete couldn't understand him. Abruptly, Pete focused again on the phone conversation. "Say again? Yes! Scramble jets and rescue helicopters and follow that turkey!" He shook his head and yelled, "NO! Under NO circumstances are they to fire! That thing has the President! Yes! It's holding the President! You get this: not even weapons hot without my express order! Do you understand? I'm going to hand you back to my aid and I want you on this line to him at all times! I want to know where that thing is headed!" Pete gave the phone back to his trembling aid and looked once more for Clark who was nowhere in sight; he hoped Clark was already after him because that was probably the only real chance Lex had.

Out over the coast, outside the restricted airspace that encompassed a large part of Washington, D.C., Harmon Rabb, former navy tomcat pilot, currently senior attorney with the Judge Advocate General's Office, in Falls Church, Virginia and soon to be admiral, was on course for a landing at Andrews Air Force Base. There had been a lot of chatter in the last few minutes and several squadrons of fighter jets had taken off while he waited to be given landing instructions. Something was obviously up and he angled off to the north a bit, deciding to take a peek. His passenger was Bud Roberts, another top attorney with the JAG Corps and a close personal friend. Bud, always excited by the prospect of a ride in a fighter jet had asked to catch a ride with Harmon Rabb rather than taking a commercial flight back from Florida. Harm, always looking for excuses to fly and keep current on his flight status, was happy to oblige.

"What's going on, Harm? What's all the chatter? Lot of planes heading out."

"Not sure, Bud. Why don't we take a look?" He made a gradual turn back to the east, making sure to remain outside the restricted zone and followed the path taken by the last squadron to leave. When he'd asked ground control what was going on, the answer had been cryptic, at best. He'd then conveniently developed a communications glitch when he'd decided to see what was up, much to the dismay of the junior traffic controller assigned to him. Now, in the distance, Harm thought he saw something very strange heading toward him. I didn't look like any plane he'd ever seen and there seemed to be something dangling from its…landing gear…

"What in the world is that? Is that a…bird?" If he hadn't been wearing a helmet, Bud Roberts' face would have been plastered to the cockpit glass trying to figure out what he was seeing. As it was, he got as close as he could and stared open-mouthed as the whatever-it-was approached. A minute later, he yelled, "It looks like…a giant turkey!" and he flinched at the last minute as it flew by just in front of them, its great red wattle flapping in the breeze.

"There's a man hanging from its claw!" Harm dropped his jet suddenly to avoid the cloud of feathers that trailed the enormous bird, not wishing to have any sucked into his engines. Abruptly, the jet smacked into something underneath, bouncing violently and Bud looked out the window as a blue and red streak plummeted to the ground below.

"Oh, my God! I think you just hit Superman!" Bud continued to stare for a few seconds then looked back at Harm when a new thought struck him. "Is he gonna be angry?"

Harmon Rabb rolled his eyes as he steadied his aircraft. "Bud! He flew into me!" Superman. Well, at least, this time he hadn't cracked the cockpit glass. Okay, where is he… Far below he saw a dust cloud roiling up from a field and a moment later a red and blue streak flashed by the cockpit again heading off in the direction of the giant turkey… Harm decided, since it appeared his jet might be relatively undamaged, this time, he'd follow and see- Uh oh…the big bird was coming back in his direction. He banked sharply and headed off in the opposite direction, the giant turkey getting closer every second.

It was gaining so fast, Harm knew he could never outdistance it and at the last minute, he put the plane into a steep dive. The bird and its captive flew by, just missing him. Harm leveled out and climbed again, watching the bird as it got further away. A moment later, Harm and Bud heard a tapping noise and both turned their heads together to see Superman flying beside them, staring in through the cockpit glass. He tapped his finger on the glass again and said something.

Bud Roberts just stared back and said, "Wow!"

Harm tapped the side of his helmet and said, "I can't hear you!" Superman moved in front and sat straddling the nose of the plane, steadying himself with both hands outstretched on the metal beneath the canopy. Harm was having a flashback and it was making him a little nervous…the first time he'd seen that face plastered up against his cockpit window…but he shook his head and tried to concentrate. This was obviously serious.

Superman leaned over until he was touching the glass and Harm tried hard to concentrate, hoping he could make out his words. It sounded like he was saying, "The President's a turkey…" It seemed an odd time for political commentary but…he was speaking again…something else…no, he couldn't have said that… "The President's been taken by the turkey? That's the President of the United States hanging there?" Superman nodded. "Oh, my God!" Bud echoed those sentiments from the back seat.

Superman tapped the glass again and Harm focused on his lips in an effort to understand. Finally, he got it and repeated aloud what he'd thought he heard. "Tell the fighters to back off; they're scaring the turkey and you can't get close. You're afraid it'll hurt the president if they don't stand down." Superman nodded and gave him a thumbs-up then shot up into the air and was off in hot pursuit, once more, as Harm made the call to Andrews with his instructions. It took a moment but finally he got hold of someone at the base who knew him personally and relayed his call to the right people who in turn relayed it to the Vice President. In the distance he could see the squadron from Andrews heading out to sea and he set his own course away from the area. He hoped he's been in time.

Flying over the fields of rural Virginia, Superman saw a farmer driving along in an aging truck. The back was filled with seed corn. Just what I need. As the farmer came to a stop by an old weathered barn, Superman raced down and landed in front of the astonished fellow. Walking over to the side of his truck, Superman asked, "Excuse me, sir; I need to ask a favor. It's an emergency."

"How can I help, Superman?"

"I need to borrow your truck and your corn. The President's been taken by…well…he's been kidnapped by a giant…turkey and I need to lure it down. I'll return as soon as I can. Please-"

"Okay. Heard there'd been some trouble with that bird he was gonna pardon. They just said something 'bout that on the radio." The farmer opened the door and got out, smiling. "Wait'll I tell my wife!"

Superman picked up the truck full of corn, yelling, "Thanks!" as he flew off in search of his quarry.

He spotted the bird circling high over the Washington Monument. Relieved to see the president was still in one piece, he flew as close to the bird as he could without spooking it and began making little turkey noises, hoping to attract its attention. The big bird slowed, eyeing the truck bed filled with seed corn and started to follow. Superman teased him along with it, drawing the turkey away from populated areas, across the Potomac and back toward farm country. Finally, he set the truck down in an open field, waiting for the right moment to snatch the president back from his kidnapper. The giant turkey came in for a landing, dropping his captive as he descended and Superman snatched Lex up before he could hit the ground. Lex moaned as he fell, only semi-conscious by now and didn't fully register, at first, that he's been rescued. There were no serious injuries that Superman could detect; only minor scratches and some rips in the Armani suit.

"Mr. President, are you alright? Are you injured?"

Lex looked at his savior, bleary eyed and dizzy after his ordeal. "No…I don't think so…" he looked very closely into Superman's face as though seeing him for the first time and for an eerie moment he was reminded of another day, long ago, when he'd awakened to find himself staring into the face of a total stranger, a boy who'd rescued him from a watery death beside the Loeb Road Bridge. Clark had given Lex a second chance that day and now it seemed a man whom he often considered an opponent had given him another. Lex drew back and simply said, "I…know we don't often see eye to eye but thank you, Superman." He smirked slightly, adding, "Now I guess I'll have to pardon the back-up turkey."

Superman flew toward the property belonging to the farmer who'd loaned him the truck. He landed in the front yard and carried Lex up the steps. The farmer and his wife met them at the front door.

"Oh, my! It's Superman and the President! Eban! Help the man! Bring him to the couch and I'll go get some ice water."

Superman carried Lex over to the couch and gently laid him down. "I think he's alright, just a little shaken up."

Lex sat up. "I'm fine, really. I…oh…mmm bit woozy…" He leaned back against some pillows. "Maybe I'll just stay still for a moment…"

The farmer's wife, Sara, brought a bowl of ice water and a cold compress for the president's head.

"I need to capture that turkey; could you take care of the President until I get back? Maybe call for help?"

"Sure; we can take care of 'im. But the phones are out; went dead just before you came."

A deep and ominous sound came from the pasture at the side of the house and Superman turned to see a giant feathered tail disappear behind the barn; he groaned out loud. The president struggled to his feet, trying to follow Superman's gaze through the dinning room windows.

"It's here, isn't it?" Lex took a step toward the door and nearly fell. Superman quickly grabbed his elbow to steady him.

"Stay here, Mr. President. In fact…do you folks have a storm cellar?"

"Yep, we do; I'd never have a house without one. I was raised in Kansas; tornado country, ya know."

"Yes, I know." Just for an instant, Superman's dark brows furrowed as he glanced briefly at Lex then he was all business as he turned back to the farmer and his wife. "It might be best if you all waited there. Go; I'll bring the president." Superman picked the president up in his arms and the farmer grabbed a pillow and an old quilt off the couch. Sara scooped up her calico cat in one hand and the bowl of ice water in the other and headed for the back porch and the storm cellar just beyond. Eban called for their two beagle hounds as he opened the door and they all rushed down the stairs. An old army cot was set up on the far side of the cellar and Sara put the pillow on it, plumping it up a bit before stepping back out of the way. Then after carefully laying the president out on the cot, Superman raced up the stairs and was gone.

Eban slid the braces and latches shut as Sara covered the president with the quilt before placing another cold cloth on his head and they all settled down to wait. Her husband sat petting his dogs and eyed the President of the United States. "Guess you might be thinkin' you pardoned the wrong turkey, huh?"

"Eban!"

"Just tryin' to make conversation."

Sara leaned in and asked, "Are you warm enough, Mr. President? We've got some other blankets here somewhere."

"I am a little chilly…" Sara jumped up to get another blanket and he looked at the old quilt that covered him more closely, examining its colorful pattern. "Nice quilt."

"It's been in the family for generations; my great grandmother made it. Here's another one." Sara covered him with a second quilt and snugged it up under his chin.

Lex laid quietly for a little while then asked, "You wouldn't have anything for a headache would you? My head's still killing me."

"Here. I've got some Tylenol." She handed him a glass of water and a couple of pills then went to get something out of an old trunk near the stairs.

Eban leaned over and whispered, "If that doesn't work I've got some bourbon stashed over in the corner."

Outside, Superman stalked the errant gobbler around the barn and across a nearby field, playing a strange game of hide-and-go-seek with it. He was hoping that the bird would return to normal size once the effects of the Kryptonite wore off, if only he could keep it distracted long enough for that to happen. At the moment, it was chasing him around a copse of poplars at the base of a hillside. Oops…it ripped out a couple of saplings in frustration. Now it was making some deep throated angry turkey noises and suddenly it leaped up into the sky and took off back in the direction of Washington. Crap! Superman shot upwards in pursuit.

It was making a beeline for downtown, it seemed. Blast! Not the mall again… The turkey was really making time and he raced to catch up to it. Superman was almost on it when it slowed abruptly and he overshot. The turkey, however, hit its target dead center. The bird had decided to take a bath in the reflecting pool on the Washington Mall and had made a solid landing right in the middle, splashing pedestrians and nearby museums, alike, with a veritable wave of water. He came back as quickly as he could then tried to ease up next to the bird but it reached out, grabbed him by the cape and swung him around in a wide circle before tossing him up into the air. He just missed the Washington monument.

Superman circled and tried sneaking up on it again from the other direction. The bird saw him out of the corner of its eye and batted him away with one huge wing. He fetched up at the entrance to the Air and Space Museum, inside which he spotted a huge spool of thick woven cable being used to hang some of the heavier displays. And that gave him an idea. He raced inside to the museum office where the security guards were herding visitors into the relative safety of the basement and trying to figure out what to do. They stopped and turned to Superman expectantly.

"Superman! What is that thing?"

"It's a…giant turkey. Look, I need to borrow some of that cable…"

"It's yours Superman! Just get rid of that thing!"

He ran over to the spool and reeled off a good length of cable then began tying some kind of a knot. Then he ran the other end through it forming an enormous noose. "Thanks!" he said as he ran out the front doors. Slowly, he approached the bird again, careful to stay outside its striking range. The turkey turned its baleful green eyes on him as though judging the perfect moment to attack. But before it could, Superman started to sling the noose around at the end of the cable like a cowboy about to rope a horse in an old fashioned western. The bird seemed mesmerized by the motion of the steel lasso, moving its great head around in a similar circle until suddenly, Superman let it fly. It landed around the creature's neck and the turkey jerked back, cinching it tight. Enraged, it leaped into the sky once more, dragging Superman with it.

The bird dropped down, skimming the Tidal Basin next to the Jefferson Memorial and raked Superman through the cherry trees there. He spat out a mouthful of twigs as the bird flew skyward again. Next, it headed for the Capital Dome and the Senate Office Building and Superman climbed steeply, tugging the bird with him to keep it from colliding with the dome itself although it ripped off several antennas and satellite dishes as it passed by. Then the main offices of the Internal Revenue Service were coming up and frantic agents and accountants fled out the main door as the bird passed by, missing the roof by mere inches and leaving a very large and special memento in its wake. At that point, Superman decided to give it a nudge with a mild burst of heat vision to one of its toes and the bird shot straight up, squawking all the way.

The fighter jets were in a holding pattern just off the coast, waiting for further instructions when the bird and Superman shot by them, streaking up above the high clouds. A few moments later, the bird passed by again on its way back down and they watched, wincing in unison, as it dragged Superman along behind it, skimming him along across the tops of some rocky outcroppings on the other side of the Potomac before it headed farther inland and disappeared from sight.

They were fast approaching the old couples' farm again and Superman was getting tired of the game; his hopes for the bird to return to normal were fading and he was beginning to think he might have to injure it or worse. He needed to bring the battle to a close and he started yanking on the cable, trying to force the turkey down. The giant bird had turned out to be quite an opponent for the Man of Steel, the Kryptonite imparting both speed and strength to the formidable fowl. Okay…time to get serious. He pulled heavily on the cable, dragging the bird down until it landed hard in a fallow field. The turkey jumped to its feet, sticking its long neck out and snapping at him with its huge beak as it began to advance. Superman pulled hard on the lasso and the bird started lashing its head back and forth then turned and took off running at high speed. Superman ran beside it then circled it quickly, wrapping the cable around its legs like he was hogtying a calf at a rodeo and the turkey fell over on its side, immobilized, at last. The bird struggled but the cable held firm and Superman settled down beside it to wait. After about fifteen minutes the bird quieted then, all at once, it began to shrink until, after only a few more minutes, it was half the size it had been. Superman removed the heavy cable and waited some more. In about twenty minutes, it was all over and the poor bird was back to its original size. He picked it up in his arms and flew back to the farm where the President of the United States waited in a storm cellar.

Once there, he released it and it ran to occupy itself with a bucket of grain at the side of the barn. Superman walked over and knocked on the cellar door. A moment later, Eban appeared at the entrance.

"Everything's okay. The bird's back to normal. Is the president alright?"

"Yep; he's okay. Got an awful headache, though." Eban looked around and spotted the turkey on the other side of the barnyard. Eyeing it with suspicion, he asked, "You sure that thing's really safe to be around?" The farmer came up out of the cellar and followed Superman as he walked over to the bird.

Superman examined the turkey, going so far as to evaluate its cellular structure with his microscopic vision. "Yeah…it seems to be perfectly normal again. No evidence of any thing permanent… Listen…thanks for the loan of your truck; I'll be back later to replace all the corn he ate…say…you wouldn't want a turkey would you? I was going to take him back to my- some friends in Kansas but if you'd like to take him off my hands…"

The farmer eyed the bird and the bird eyed him back. He was a fine specimen and the farmer had been thinking of branching out into something other than cattle and horses. "Well, if you're sure he's not gonna change again…"

"Oh, yeah; he was just exposed to something that made him grow but he's all back to his former self, as far as I can see."

"Okay, I'll take 'im. Maybe I'll start breeding turkeys; been wantin' to start something new, anyway."

He clasped the old man's hand. "Thanks! Um…I'll be back this afternoon with the feed and if there's anything around the farm I could help you with just let me know."

The farmer laughed. "Never took you for a farmer, Superman."

"You'd be surprised."

"Glad I could help you out."

Superman went down into the storm cellar to retrieve the president. "Are you alright, Mr. President?"

Lex stood, a little wobbly at first. "Yeah, I'm okay, just a headache."

"With your permission, Mr. President, I'll take you back." Superman turned to Sara and asked, "Can I borrow your quilts? I promise to return them later, too." Sara nodded and Superman picked up the President, went up the steps and lifted off, saying, "Thanks!"

The Turkey had finally had his fill of corn for the time being; ambling over to his new owner, he looked up, expectantly. The farmer leaned over to his new charge and said, "I'm glad you didn't hurt the president and all but that Luthor fella is a might strange, sometimes." The turkey warbled in apparent agreement and the two of them walked off to the barn. "What am I gonna name you?" The turkey had no suggestions and after further deliberation, the farmer said, "How 'bout I name you after Superman?"

The creature turned in a circle, squawking and the farmer took that as approval. "Superman, it is then. Come on. Maybe I can get the wife to fix something special for when your namesake returns."

Superman landed without incident on the south lawn of the White House where he was met by the Secret Service, White House Security and the President's personal physician, who tried to spirit Lex Luthor away before any other catastrophic events befell his patient. Lex, however, insisted on making a brief impromptu speech to reassure everyone he was fine and that the turkey would still be pardoned, in spite of having taken the President on an unscheduled flight, a serious breech of White House protocol, to be sure. Then Lex let himself be led away to be examined and a reception being held for the visiting ambassador from Upper Moldavia was allowed to proceed with the Vice President filling in for Lex while he recovered from the day's events.

Before he went to preside over the festivities in the president's stead, Vice-President Pete Ross rescued Superman from the gaggle of reporters and cameramen surrounding him and found a quiet corner for a brief conversation. "What on Earth happened? Is Lex really okay? I got a report from a Navy fighter pilot-"

Superman laughed. "I hogtied it and waited 'til the effects of the Kryptonite wore off. Man, you never know what that stuff will do! A giant turkey…" He shook his head and sighed. Leaning over, he lowered his voice and asked, "Hey, ya wanna get together later?"

Pete nodded, "Yeah! This reception will be over in about two hours, and after that…not sure but I'll phone you." He stepped back and shook Superman's hand formally, for the cameras, saying loudly, "Thank you, Superman; we're very grateful."

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Vice-President." With that, Superman floated upward until he was out of sight. Sometime later, Clark Kent reappeared beside Lois Lane who was standing next to a large antique vase outside the reception room.

"Welcome back," she whispered, smiling. She reached over and straightened Clark's tie.

"Did I miss anything?"

"The Moldavian ambassador wants to start raising turkeys. Think you could help him out?"

"I can definitely fix him up." Clark spotted Pete through the doors to the reception hall and waved as they were being shut. "Pete said he'd call later. He said this would probably take an hour or two."

"Well, they just ended the press conference and said no more interviews 'til tomorrow."

"So…we done here? Don't suppose you'd care to write this up while Superman returns those quilts to their rightful owner? I've got reservations in Georgetown for the best reporter on any planet and her escort…"

"Shameless flatterer; even if it's true." Clark laughed as they walked out into the chilly November air.

Lois drove until they got to Virginia where she pulled over onto a secluded side road and Clark got out. A quick change and he headed off with the heirloom quilts to keep his promise. Calling out, "Meet you at the restaurant," he rose up into the air.

Sometime later, at the Naval Observatory, the Vice-President's official residence, Clark and Pete took turns reading bedtime stories to the youngest members of the Ross family, who were always excited to see their Uncle Clark. They had adapted, in some ways better than Lana and Pete, to the wildly fluctuating schedules of their parents. After they had been properly tucked in for the night, Lana gave Clark a hug and shooed them both away to do whatever guy stuff they were obviously contemplating along with firm instructions not to get in trouble and that she'd call Clark's cell if he had to make an appearance somewhere.

Not long after Pete had become the holder of the second highest office in the land, he'd gone exploring one day and discovered that his official residence had, just like the White House itself, a series of tunnels beneath it and a secret underground entrance, known to only a few and never used in recent memory. In the sub-basement of the building, back in the dusty corner of an unused storeroom, Pete had leaned on an old bookcase and to his surprise it had swung open to reveal a cobweb-covered passageway behind. Pete's mystery loving soul demanded he follow it and he eventually found himself standing some distance away from the Observatory behind a small hill admiring the perfectly concealed door. Disguised as a rock wall at the back of a small garden, it blended perfectly into the landscaping near the edge of the property. Unfortunately, he had let the heavy self-locking door slam shut, locking himself out. Pete had waited until there was a shift change then ambled up as casually as he could, saying he'd been wandering the grounds and gotten lost. He had caused quite a stir when he appeared at the inner gate wearing casual sweats, stunning the guards who, of course, hadn't seen him leave. The resulting uproar had lasted for some time.

Lana had been appalled at his unauthorized departure from the security of the residence but he'd persuaded her he'd been safe and was, after all, on the grounds the entire time. It wasn't, he argued, as if no one knew the entrance was there; it was only that most people were unaware of its existence and it was assumed the Vice-President was similarly in the dark. He'd also persuaded her not to mention his little discovery since there was a security station close by and there was really no reason everybody had to know. In truth, Pete just thought it was way cool to have a secret passage in his house for his exclusive use.

Now, Pete intended to take advantage of it again and sneak outside where Clark could easily spirit him away and for a time, he could pretend to be an ordinary citizen once more. They wandered about the residence for a few minutes, trying to appear casual, Pete deflecting his security people as much as he could without arousing suspicion. They headed toward a media room on the second floor where Pete loudly declared they could watch several of the latest hit movies in an all night marathon. Fortunately, the system was fairly well automated and barring any serious malfunction, would allow residents and their guests to operate it all on their own. Pete waited as patiently as he could for his personal agents to wander through the theater itself as well as the adjoining hallway, bathrooms and kitchenette, giving everything a cursory once over while the stewards fixed sandwiches and salads, provided drinks of all kinds including a full coffee service and wheeled out an actual cart full of fresh popped corn to add to the ambience. Pete insisted everyone take some popcorn with them as they left to resume their various posts outside.

As soon as Pete's entourage had departed, Clark rigged the room with a low level force field and special door locks which would prove difficult, if not impossible, to get through. Then he set up a highly advanced interactive holography generator which he thought might help in case someone did try to enter before they could get back. Pete called up the first selection from the fully loaded DVD projection unit and they waited briefly before heading through the short hallway into the kitchen area where Clark set the last lock on a door next to the pantry. Then they snuck down a set of rarely used stairs that had once led to butlers' quarters below. The door that opened onto the ground level was halfway between checkpoints in the middle of the floor and so close it didn't warrant a human guard of its own. From there, with Clark's help and a few special gadgets, one on loan from a certain nocturnal resident of Gotham, they managed to evade security, making it to the old storeroom and the passageway behind it in good time.

Pete rubbed his palms together, practically chortling with glee as they snuck through the tunnel. "Oh, this is great! My brothers didn't call me Sneaky Pete, for nothing. I didn't think I'd ever shake that last Secret Service detail; they've been sticking to me like glue all afternoon-"

"Pete. They're just trying to take care of you. The turkey incident had everybody pretty spooked. Are you sure you really wanna do this?" Clark raised one dark brow. "And anyway, I think I'm doing most of the sneaking."

Pete made a face at his old friend. "Well…I had the idea! I always was a concept man. But, hey, I'll be perfectly safe. Who'd take better care of me than you, huh?" He pointed to a junction up ahead. "Look out; that's the last vibration sensor-" Clark picked Pete up and wafted along so no telltale footsteps would be detected. Finally, they were up the final steps and at the outer door and Pete unlocked it, opening it up. Clark placed an advanced device of Kryptonian design on the door's edge which he claimed would keep the door locked, opening only on his express command. Then they were outside and Clark quickly took to the air, deftly avoiding every carefully placed security device nearby. Their plan was to return later during a scheduled shift change and no one would be the wiser.

Once outside, their escape successful, Clark and Pete strolled casually along for a block or two while Pete tried to decide what to do with his newfound freedom.

"Man, just being out without a bunch of people tailing me is novel. Don't get me wrong, Clark; I enjoy the job and I'm grateful to have the chance to serve but sometimes…the pressure of having all those people constantly around trying to serve me like I'm some kind of royalty is worse than the job itself. Lex is used to that stuff but it makes me uncomfortable. There are days when I'd give anything to go back in time and be just a kid from Kansas again."

"I hear ya, Pete." They walked in silence for a few minutes before Clark added, "It sure was a simpler time."

Pete turned, "Wow, man; considering what you've gone through, I've got no reason to complain-"

Clark smiled as his thoughts drifted back in time. "Naw, Pete; everyone wishes for simpler times. I really miss those days, too but there are things I'd never want to relive so in the end, the present seems pretty good."

"Truth is, I sometimes have a hard time remembering what it was like before I married Lana. And the kids are something; life would be awfully dull without 'em."

"You're good for Lana, Pete, in ways I never could be; you're good for each other. But it means a lot to me that we're all still good friends." After another moment, he looked over at Pete and added, "Do you think your kids will get into as much trouble as we did?"

Pete laughed, "Oh, God, I hope not!"

"Hey, I need to pay a visit to Harmon Rabb-"

"Is he that guy over at JAG?"

"Yeah; and he's the guy who relayed Superman's message to the fighter squadron this afternoon. I owe him."

"Sounds like we all do. Sure! I don't suppose you drove…"

"Nope. Left the car with Lois; I'm afraid it's flight time if you wanna go very far."

"Okay; it's always a unique experience to fly with you, my man."

Moments later, Clark landed behind a row of magnolia trees that bordered Harm's property; they followed a dew covered path to the rear of the house. Light jazz filtered through the open door of the garage out back and the clink of metal tools, along with some muttering and swearing that made it obvious someone was working on something that was not going well. Clark peeked around the door and saw a man's legs sticking out from under a shiny red sports car.

"Things not going well, Harm?"

Startled, Harm banged his head on the underside of the car. "Ow!" He scooted out from under the car even more surprised when he saw who his visitor was.

Clark gave him a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Sorry. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…good to see you! I thought you'd be back in Metropolis by now."

"We decided to hang around for a couple of days and visit some friends." He gestured toward Pete. "We were out bumming around and I thought I'd stop by for a few minutes. I wanted to thank you for this afternoon. You may very well have saved the president's life. By the way, this is…"

Pete stepped forward, offering a hand, "Pete Ross."

"Harmon Rabb." Harm looked down the drive. "I didn't hear you drive up."

"We…um…didn't drive."

Harm's eyebrows climbed, "Oh." A member of the inner circle, then; a very close friend. "Well, I was about to drown my sorrows with an ice cold Heineken. Care to join me?"

"Sure; thanks."

Harm reached into a nearby cooler. "Here ya go."

Taking a swig of beer, Clark leaned down and took a long look. "What's the matter?"

"Broken muffler hanger; just a hassle to get under there 'cause it's so low to the ground."

"Can I help?"

"Uh, well…yeah…can you maybe lift the car up a little so I can get in there easier?"

Clark listened and looked around. "Anybody inside coming out here anytime soon?"

"I don't think so. Everyone fled when the swearing started and I sent Sturgis back to his house to find my tools."

"Jigger for me, will you, Pete?"

"Sure, man." Pete moved to stand lookout just outside the door.

Clark moved around back and casually lifted the car up as he took another sip of beer. "How's this?"

Harm couldn't help smiling. "That's great!" After a couple of minutes, however, he began to mutter again. "I really need a different wrench for this."

"Here, hold this; let me see." Harm took the bottle and Clark easily loosened the problem bolts with two fingers. "If you want, I can fix the whole thing."

"I'll take you up on that offer. Ever since I got back I've been trying to find the time to look at it and when I figured out what was wrong, I remembered I'd loaned my tools to Sturgis. Please…"

"So…where'd you learn to be a mechanic?"

"My dad. There was always something on the farm that needed repair. Once I rebuilt his old John Deer tractor from the ground up and I had to put the big combine back together after that meteor freak used it to run over me."

Pete looked in and chuckled, "Clark got real good at putting things back together."

"So, if you ever need a combine repaired, let me know."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." It never ceased to amaze him when confronted with Clark's human side. The image of the man before him, covered with grease and dirt, patiently reassembling a piece of farming equipment brought a smile to his face.

Clark sat the car back down, wiping his hands off on his jeans before retrieving his beer. Pete ducked back into the garage, relaxing against a stack of boxes as he nursed his own drink.

"Thanks; I really appreciate this, believe me!" Harm took another, closer look at Clark's friend. "Pete, have we met? You look familiar…" He started to take another sip, pausing with the bottle halfway to his lips, his mouth hanging open. "Oh, my God; you're-" his voice dropped to a low hiss, "the vice-president!" Harm snapped to attention, spilling beer onto the floor in the process.

Pete rolled his eyes and hissed back, "Easy! I'm just out for a stroll with an old friend. No need to panic."

"But, but how'd you get away without your-"

"They think we're watching movies. So relax! I'm out with Clark! What could possibly happen to me with Clark along? He's the world's best bodyguard so calm down."

"What if they find out you're missing?"

"Well, they're not gonna find out, are they?"

Clark put his finger to his lips when he heard the crunch of gravel outside. Instinctively, Clark jumped to put himself between Pete and whoever was approaching and Harm moved to stand next to Pete.

A man rounded the doorway carrying a tool case. "Here you go, Harm; sorry it took so long but the roads are getting really bad..." Clark tensed, realizing he'd seen Sturgis Turner, another JAG lawyer, at the White House earlier when Pete had stepped in to take Lex's place at the conference. He tried to appear as nonchalant as he could but it was difficult due to Pete rather obviously slinking back into the shadows behind them; he had apparently recognized Sturgis, too.

"Uh…thanks, Sturgis." Harm took the tool case and set it down on a workbench. He looked back at Pete and Clark and said, "Um…" hoping for direction from his vice president or the resident alien. When none came, he stared at Sturgis and repeated, "Um…"

Clark stepped forward, offering a hand and said, "Um…hi. I'm Clark Kent…reporter for-"

"Oh, yeah; Daily Planet, right? Were you at the White House today when-"

"Yeeeaaah…the turkey…pretty strange thing, wasn't it?"

"I'd say it was… Harm, Mac said to drag you in."

"We'd better be going."

Before Clark and Pete could escape, Sarah MacKenzie, Harm's wife, appeared in the doorway. "Harm, you'd better- Hey, stranger! What are you doing here? Come on in; you're just in time for sandwiches and snacks." Clark tried not to flinch under her gaze but his worry over helping Pete escape made it impossible. Sarah looked more closely at Clark who was obviously uncomfortable then at Pete who was trying to hang back out of sight. Clark was painfully aware that Sarah, who was also a top notch lawyer, could read people with ease in and out of the courtroom; she could probably sense his guilt. Beside him, Harm was now looking guilty, too even though he was only an accessory after the fact; he had the look of a man caught redhanded and he was practically broadcasting, "Mea Culpa" signals, himself. Mac rocked on her heels and smiled at her husband, asking sweetly, "Who's this?"

Clark stared at Pete, who'd pulled his sweatshirt hood up, withdrawing back into it like a turtle, in the hopes of further concealing his identity and finally said, "This…is…Pete."

Pete mumbled, "Pete; hi." He sunk back further. "Uh…Clark…maybe we should go…"

Clark began to mumble, "Yeah, um, we really ought to-"

But Sarah MacKenzie bounced over to Clark and Pete and grabbed them both by the arm. Leaning over to Clark, she whispered, "You can just bring your mysterious friend in and tell me what the three of you," and she glanced back at her husband, "are up to. Now," she said more loudly, "in we go." She dragged Clark and Pete through the door, letting Harm and Sturgis bring up the rear.

Once inside, she handed a platter of hors d'oeuvres over to Sturgis. "Here…would you take these into the living room? Thanks, Sturgis!" As soon as he was through the doorway, Mac backed the three of them into a small office located in small room on one side of the kitchen and demanded, "Okay, boys; what's up? The three of you look guilty as original sin."

"What do you mean, Mac? We were just…uh…we…" he trailed off, seeing she wasn't buying it for a minute.

She leaned closer, smiling. "And tell me, Pete, why are you so shy?"

Clark was the first to crack. "Oh, man! I knew this was a bad idea!"

Pete and Harm both groaned, "Clark!" at his capitulation.

Harm added, "Didn't you ever hear of the phrase, 'plausible deniability?'"

Sarah stared at Pete for a moment, smug at her easy victory then her jaw dropped when she recognized him. "Oh, my God! You're the-"

Pete put his hand over her mouth. "Shush! Don't say it! I just wanted to hang around with Clark here like a regular guy for a few hours. No biggie."

"But how did you-"

Pete rolled his eyes. "Geez! Clark here-"

"But it was Pete's idea! He thought it up!" He groaned, "We are so busted!"

Sarah's eyebrow soared as she looked at Clark. "And what did Lois have to say about this little junket?"

"I told her I was going to hang out with Pete and maybe drop by to see the two of you but…this was more a spur of the moment thing…"

Her gaze turned to Pete. "We were gonna wander around outside a bit and watch some movies later and I just decided it might be cool to get out for a while. Hey, I'm just a regular guy out with a friend. There's no harm in that."

Sturgis Turner appeared in the doorway, opening his mouth to speak. Mac leaped up and shoved a sandwich platter into his hands. "Thanks, Sturgis! I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure, Mac." He stared at her for a moment before retreating to the living room where Bud Roberts could be heard describing his exciting encounter with Superman earlier in the day.

A moment later, Bud came into the kitchen to fill an ice bucket, almost running into Pete in the process. "Oops! Sorry…"

Mac jumped in and said cheerily, "Bud, meet Pete!"

Pete smiled, mumbling, "That's okay…um…hi…" as he briefly shook Bud's proffered hand before sidling over to the counter to retrieve his beer.

Bud's attention was diverted when he spotted Clark and stopped dead in his tracks, staring intently. "Hi…have we met…sorry…you seem so familiar…"

Offering his hand, Clark said, "Smallville, Kansas; I…believe you were delivering some documents to the Luthor mansion; I was delivering produce when you arrived. It's been a while."

After a moment, Bud exclaimed, "Oh, I remember now…actually, the horse in the dining room was what comes to mind. Never saw that coming."

Clark got a far off look in his eye for just a moment then added, "Yeah…neither did Lex…"

Bud laughed and asked, "You're a reporter with the Daily Planet now, aren't you? And you sort of know Superman, don't you?"

Clark adjusted his wire rimmed glasses and tried to give off regular guy vibes. "Uh, yeah…sort of…" It was always weird when someone asked him about Superman. Behind him, Mac snickered.

"Do you think he was upset when we hit him with the F-14? I mean, he didn't seem angry but-"

Clark chuckled. "No, I don't think he'd be angry at that."

"Does he ever…I mean, does he ever just relax and hang out like a regular guy?"

"Sometimes, I guess. Doesn't everyone?"

Bud mulled this revelation over for a moment before saying, "Wow…cool." With that he turned and was off. Before Mac could harass Clark and Pete any further, Bud yelled out from the living room, "X-Styles is on!"

His wife, Harriet, could be heard giving him grief over it. "Bud, that show is so lame! Star Trek has more truth in it than X-Styles!"

Clark and Pete wandered to the doorway of the living room to see what outrageous story would be on tonight. "You know," Clark added, "I can't believe that show's still on after all this time." He leaned back against the door jamb to watch.

"Look, I know a lot of this stuff is ridiculous but some of it actually has some fact behind it. Like tonight, they're discussing Urban Legends and…okay, I think this is it…"

The announcer continued, "Urban Legends abound but one in particular stands out and tonight, we're going to Metropolis, Kansas where one of the most incredible events ever reported supposedly occurred, back in the summer of 2003." A picture of the huge globe revolving majestically on top of the Daily Planet building appeared on the screen.

Bud yelped, "I knew it! They're gonna talk about that guy who robbed the bank and tossed the Daily Planet Globe!"

Wincing, Clark rubbed his forehead with the heel of one hand; he felt a headache coming on and it threatened to be a doozy. But then, Superman never did anything by halves; when he got a headache, it was always supersized. "Geez…" he muttered to Pete, "are people ever gonna stop talking about that?"

Pete smiled and clapped him on the back. "Probably not."

Bud turned around and asked, "Were you there in Metropolis that summer? Did you see any of this?"

"More than I care to remember." Clark closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. "It was…a strange time. I was only-"

A knock at the back door interrupted him and Harm went to answer. "Lois…come in…"

Clark turned and went back into the kitchen to find Lois standing just inside the door of the rear porch. She was covered with snow and when she removed her hat to shake it off he saw her hair was wet. "What-"

She held out a cell phone. "I found this on the floor next to the bed when I got out of the tub."

Clark groaned, "Uh oh…"

Lois leaned closer and added, "Lana called; she's frantic. Lex phoned and wanted to talk to Pete and when she couldn't reach you she called me. I thought you might be here but I couldn't get through; the operator said some of the lines were down-"

"Yeah, the turkey…" Harm trailed off and pointed toward the living room. "I'll just…"

"Get Pete."

"Right." A moment later he returned with Pete, Sarah following close behind.

Sarah whispered, "Lois, what's up? These guys in trouble?"

Lois shook her head in confirmation. "Oh, yeah. We've gotta get Pete here back home in a hurry. Come on! I don't know how much longer Lana can stall." She jammed her hat back on and the three of them hurried out the back door and into the night. Harm and Mac watched as the three of them disappeared behind the Magnolia trees and a moment later they caught a glimpse of something streaking up into the sky above them.

By the time Clark and Pete arrived back at the residence, the place was in an uproar. From high overhead, Clark could see Lana hovering outside the screening room where a group of secret service agents were making increasingly frantic attempts to open the door. From inside, Pete's voice was saying he couldn't get the door open but he was fine. At least the interactive holo program was working as planned. Now, if he could only get Pete in somehow…

"Okay, Concept Man, you got any suggestions? How are we gonna get back inside with everyone on alert? There are people at the ground floor door below the pantry, too."

Pete groaned. "Lana's gonna kill me."

"Well, we have to get you back so she can kill you."

"If I don't freeze to death up here first."

"Oh, sorry." Clark descended rapidly toward a thicket of overgrown brush on a rocky bank outside the grounds and called Lois's cell as soon as they landed. "Lo, I think I can get into the basement but there are people outside the door we need to use…what? Uh, oh. Well…we need a distraction, something to get those people away from the door…Lois!"

"What?"

"She hung up! Oh, man…"

Pete slapped him on the back. "Women. It's comforting to know that even a superman can have trouble with 'em."

"We really screwed up, Pete! I knew this was a bad idea!"

Sighing, Pete sat on a nearby rock. "So it would seem, my friend."

In disgust, Clark flopped down heavily beside him on another stone, crushing it and ending up on the wet, muddy ground. "Geez…" His phone rang again and after a brief conversation, Clark said, "Okay, we have a plan. Distraction is in the works."

"What exactly is the plan?"

"She didn't say."

"Why am I more nervous now that we have a plan?"

"Because it's not our plan?" Clark climbed up to peer over the top of the bank and scanned the residence. "Come on, I think we can make it into the tunnel in a few minutes. The guards are moving away. After that, she said to be patient." Clark glanced back at Pete. "There're not telling us on purpose. They wanna make us sweat."

"I know. Man, we are never gonna hear the end of this."

Clark winced as he kept watch. He knew Pete was right.

Across the grounds of the Naval Observatory, in the kitchen of the family's private residence, Lana Lang Ross was frantically grabbing supplies off the shelves of the pantry and throwing them into shopping bags. Then she hid them under her long robe and made a mad dash down the corridor leading to the children's bedrooms, dumping everything in a closet when she heard footsteps. There was always a secret service agent nearby, Pete's, hers, the kids, and usually it was comforting to know help was always close by in an emergency. But tonight, watchful eyes were the last thing Lana needed. She had to have privacy if she was to carry out her plan of distraction so Pete and Clark could get back inside without anyone asking awkward questions about how Clark got Pete out of such a supposedly highly secure environment.

She huffed out a breath in irritation, wondering how two grown men, one of them, the Vice President of the United States and the other, a super powerful alien from another planet with a lightning fast intellect, could cause so much trouble. Powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, my ass, she thought. Sometimes, when it came to common sense, Clark could be just as dense as any ordinary Earthman. Clark was a good friend but she often wondered how Lois put up with the life she had to lead in order to be with him; Lana knew she could never have done it.

When the two agents rounded the corner, she nodded and went on, doubling back to the closet when they were out of sight. She ran into the playroom down the hall from the children's bedrooms, dumping her bags soon as she could. Then she made one more foray into the lower hall to inquire if the secret service had managed to extricate her husband and his friend from the entertainment room then announced she'd be upstairs in case the children had been awakened by all the noise and commotion. On the way upstairs, several agents were coming down to check on the situation because for some reason, communications were being disrupted in the area of the entertainment suite. Thank God for that small favor. Lana hurried up the stairs and into the playroom where she carefully shut the door and began her preparations.

In the corner of the large playroom at the end of the hall, her oldest son, Pete Junior, had built an enormous volcano in the corner of the playroom with the help of his Uncle Clark, whose idea, she suspected, it had actually been. When Clark's alter ego had been called away to deal with an emergency, Pete had stepped in and during the small gap in immediate adult supervision, extra portions of the active ingredients had been added. The eruption had been quite spectacular. It had blown a hole in the ceiling overhead, above which, fortunately, there was only an unused storage area and damaged the actual roof itself. Clark had been profusely apologetic on his return, quickly repairing the hole and cleaning and repainting the entire room himself. Lana had listened patiently to the detailed explanation which Clark and Pete and Pete Junior had offered as to what they were doing and how they'd done it and why it had gone wrong.

She'd relented on the removal of the volcanic cone itself when Petey had pleaded with her to be allowed to keep it. It had been quite an engineering feat, she had to admit, right down to the landscaping on the mountain's slopes and the small village that had been blow away during the cataclysmic explosion and since rebuilt. It was amazing that the cone had withstood the event and Lana wondered if there were any unusual materials, donated perhaps, by their otherworldly babysitter that had made that possible. Well, she said to herself, as she added the remaining ingredient and stared at the hapless village, those villagers need to move. She moved back to what she hoped was out of range and waited.

Outside, Clark's phone rang again and he turned to Pete. "Get ready. It's about to happen." Clark and Pete climbed up the embankment and stared through a gap in the bushes.

"What do you think they're up to?" Pete's question was immediately answered as a puff of smoke shot up through the roof and several shingles flew off and out into the yard. An alarm sounded in the distance, Clark grabbed Pete up under his arm and shot up into the night sky. He landed in the bushes near the secret entrance as soon as the patrolling guards had moved off and released the outer lock. Clark zipped through the twists and turns of the underground tunnel until he came to the last door at the top of the stairs. Outside the door, radios were crackling and people were already running past, heading upstairs.

"Hold on, Pete. Here we go." Clark threw Pete over his shoulder and dashed down the hall, releasing the lower lock before he'd even arrived. He carried Pete up the stairs and into the kitchen in an instant. It took only another moment to deactivate everything else and release the final front lock.

Pete opened the door, startling two agents who were working determinedly on the door. Numerous agents clustered around them, toting an arsenal of tools with which to attack the recalcitrant door and several were preparing to assault the wall itself with a couple of wicked looking saws a few feet away. "Hey! You did it! Thanks! What was wrong?"

The men and women outside stared back. "Well, sir…I don't know…we thought we were going to have to take out a section of wall…that door is really strong."

Pete knocked on it and said, "Soundproofing, you know. Good job, ladies and gentlemen! Now…what's going on upstairs?" he asked as he headed out the door.

The head of his detail was shaking his head as he listened through his earpiece. "Odd…" he muttered, "Communications were out earlier but now they're fine. Uh…okay…" Smoke alarm, sir; I think the kids might have been playing with the volcano again. Everyone's alright, though."

Pete clapped Clark on the arm and said "Come on, Clark; let's see how bad it is." Clark obediently followed.

When they arrived upstairs, agents were opening windows to allow the smoke to dissipate from the playroom. The Ross children were clustered around their mother giving each other high fives and saying, "Way to go, Mom!" as they surveyed the damage. Pete ran to her and she looked up, seeming dazed. Her long dark hair hung wildly over her face and she was covered with plaster dust, wood chips and colorful bits of paper mache.

"Lana…is everyone alright? Uh…Lana…"

After a moment, she sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm fine; we're all fine."

From overhead, an agent called down, "It's not as bad as last time, sir; the hole's a lot smaller…"

Petey yelled, "Cool! I can see the Big Dipper through the ceiling!" His smile faded when a heavy tarp was draped over the hole.

Pete hugged his wife, smearing himself with dust in the process and kissed her. Then, smiling, he whispered, "I owe you big time."

Lana smiled wryly and whispered back, "Oh, yes…yes you do, Mr. Vice President. Wait 'til you see what we have planned for payback."

Clark leaned over and hesitantly chimed in, "I'll…I'll repair the damage! I'll repaint everything! I'm really sorry…what do you mean, 'We?' Lana?" he whispered back when the agents began to filter back out into the hallway.

Lana turned and pointed to the door. "Okay, kids; everyone back to bed. We'll come to tuck you in a few minutes. Petey, wash those hands. We'll talk about this in the morning. Go on! Scat!" She turned back to Clark who was looking nervous already. "Lois and I have been talking. We'll let you know when you come for dinner tomorrow."

Pete and Clark both said, "Aw, Lana…" but she raised her hand for silence.

"I'm gonna go take a bath. We'll see you tomorrow, Clark." Then she smiled sweetly and disappeared down the hall.

Pete went to the hall and said, "Everyone can go back to their posts. We'll take care of this tomorrow. Thanks everybody!" A few agents offered to start the clean-up immediately but Pete shooed them away. "No, no; we'll worry about all this tomorrow. Just go back to your regular duties."

As soon as everyone was gone, Pete shut the door and Clark raced around the room, quickly gathering up the debris. Pete and Clark flopped down on the floor, staring up at the damaged ceiling then they stared at each other for a moment before Clark finally said, "We're really never gonna hear the end of this, are we?"

After another moment's thought, Pete replied, "No. I don't think we ever will."

Clark stood and took one last look at the damaged ceiling. "I'd better go before Lois calls Lana and they have a chance to talk about us some more. That can't be a good thing."

"That is never a good thing."

Clark Kent floated silently above his wife's sleeping form, wondering now if he should wake her. He held a beautiful bouquet of red roses, acquired from a shop several time zones west when he failed to find what he wanted anywhere on the east coast. He'd landed by the little shop in Santa Monica and spotted the perfect thing out front, startling the florist who saw him touch down. A petty thief had picked that moment to rob the store and after foiling the robbery, the grateful florist had given him a huge spray of American Beauty roses despite his protests. It was just as well, since he subsequently discovered he'd left his wallet somewhere.

Now he wanted to present her with his prize and see just how bad this was going to be. Their entire visit to Washington had been a series of bizarre circumstances, culminating in the debacle of Pete and Clark's Excellent Adventure. Although he'd been sure Pete's idea was a bad one, Clark had acquiesced, nonetheless, certain he could handle any complications. Hubris, pure and simple and a trait he suspected he'd inherited from his Kryptonian ancestors. How else could you explain a supposedly superior race which ignored all indications of impending planetary doom until it literally blew up in their collective faces? Apparently, a super intellect wasn't the same thing as common sense and he knew both Lois and Lana would agree.

Clark's reverie was interrupted when he realized Lois was looking up at him. He gave her his most charming smile and drifted lower to present her with the bouquet. She stared back at him for a moment before sitting up to accept it. He watched intently, trying to gauge her reaction.

"They're beautiful."

"I humbly apologize for my lapse in judgment. Pete just wanted to get out for a while and feel like a regular guy I really thought we could get away with it and…and I'd sorta been wanting to try out this gizmo Bruce lent me…"

Lois propped herself up against the headboard, inhaling the wonderful fragrance of the flowers. Looking him in the eye as he hovered next to her, she said, "So…this was Pete's idea, was it?" She raised one elegant brow. "I thought so. It had all the earmarks of a Pete Ross the Idea Man plan. You know how lucky you are, right?" Now she was trying not to smile.

He turned on his side, leaning on his elbow and floated down, landing softly next to her so he could bestow a gentle kiss. "I know how lucky I am to have you. Am I forgiven?" he whispered before kissing her again.

"Always," she replied, a huge grin spreading across her face. Still smiling, Lois set the roses aside on the nightstand and slid down to meet him. "Always…"

Much later, as Lois lay sleeping, Clark arose. Dressing quickly, he left a note and softly kissed her cheek before he slipped out into the night, soaring into the sky and back in the direction of Harm's house to retrieve his lost wallet if anyone was still awake. The snow had been falling heavily for hours now and many roads were already impassable. A snow emergency had been declared for the Washington area and most of Virginia and Superman had to help an elderly couple who'd been stranded in their car as well as right an overturned snowplow on the beltway. He then had to rescue several motorists who'd been stuck when a semi jackknifed near Dulles Airport, blocking an off ramp and the only open lane of traffic. After righting the semi and moving it out of the way and checking everyone in the line of vehicles for injuries, he carried the truck driver to a local hospital for observation then continued on his way, eventually landing out of sight behind Harm's garage. The big rambling house on Magnolia Lane was blanketed in white, the yard and surrounding fields pristine and untouched.

Clark knocked softly and in a couple of moments, Bud Roberts came to the door. "Hi, I hear I left something behind."

"Oh, yeah; Harm said you might be back for it. Come on in. Actually, I thought most of the roads would be closed by now; sounds like the beltway's pretty bad. I heard an overturned semi was blocking traffic near Dulles until Superman showed up to help out." Clark stepped inside, stomping the snow from his boots as Bud began rummaging around on the kitchen counter. "How's the county highway? Sometimes they're not real good about plowing county roads out here when it's this bad."

"Yeah, it's…uh…pretty bad everywhere; I didn't want to chance the county highway so I…parked closer to the main road and walked from there."

Surprised, Bud looked up. "That's actually quite a ways."

"It really didn't seem that far; probably comes from being raised on a farm." Clark chuckled, adding, "Lois says you can't take the country out of the boy."

"Oh, I think I see it-nope-Monopoly money, sorry. Have a seat and warm up; it's somewhere close I'm sure… Superman sure has been busy; according to the late news he stopped a robbery at a flower shop in Santa Monica earlier then he managed to be back here to help out again. That seems like a lot of traveling even for a guy like him." He went to the other side of the doorway and started rooting around in a pile of papers and books next to the phone. "We let all the kids stay up late and when they finally started getting ready for bed, it was absolute chaos. I think everything in here got shuffled around-" Bud headed off to a small desk on the back porch and began searching there. "The weather's so bad everyone stayed for the night but they all went to bed a long time ago. I'm the last hold out. I just couldn't resist waiting up for the rest of the X-Styles retrospective." Bud looked up to see Clark's dubious expression. "I know, I know. But I figure there might be a grain of truth in there somewhere."

Clark smiled broadly and offered, "Well, maybe."

Bud came back to the kitchen and started searching through the drawers next to the pantry. "So…do you really talk to Superman a lot?"

"Well…I try to keep him informed when something comes up he needs to know. Why?"

"Just…I wonder what he thinks of us. Being an alien and all. Do we seem really weird to him?"

"No. I can say with certainty that he sees us as being pretty much like him."

"Minus the flying and x-ray vision and all the other things that make him almost godlike."

Sobering, Clark said, "Never think that, Bud. He's just a guy trying to do the right thing. I know he never wants anyone to look at him as anything other than a man with special abilities." Clark eyed the kitchen and spotted the wallet beneath a pile of books on the floor behind a large rubber tree and leaned down to pick it up before Bud could notice he couldn't have seen it from where he was standing. "Here it is."

"Sorry. It was supposed to be here near the door…well…you really gonna try to go back out in this? You're welcome to the couch or there's a sleep sofa in the den that's still up for grabs."

"Thanks but I'll be fine. Tell Harm and Mac I came by. Have a good Thanksgiving." Bud watched through the back window as Clark walked down the steps and disappeared behind the garage where one old magnolia tree hung over the back of the garage, its branches heavily laden with snow. Suddenly, the magnolia's limbs shook, sending an avalanche of snow cascading onto the garage roof and a cloud of snow swirling upward into the sky. Odd, because the rest of the trees were undisturbed but the wind often played tricks here, whipping across the open fields in unpredictable patterns; he turned and went back to the refrigerator for a glass of milk.

A few minutes later, Bud made one last foray into the snow to take out the trash. As he closed the lid on the garbage can, he stopped, staring out at the path that led on behind the garage. All was quiet, the snow deep and beautiful and there were no footprints at all anywhere beyond the corner of the building where he now stood. A little niggling thought was trying to work its way to the forefront of his conscious mind and finally, it hit him. Clark Kent had come this way but there were no prints to indicate that he'd passed by. The snow was falling even more heavily now; perhaps Clark's prints had been filled in already… Bud walked back to the corner of the garage and looked down toward the back steps. Clark's very large and unmistakable footprints were still there, leading around the garage and ending next to the trash cans, right under the magnolia. It was as though Clark had just vanished into thin air. Bud stared down at the last of the prints for a minute and out beyond them then slowly turned his gaze up into the tree.

His curiosity piqued, Bud walked on down the path under the row of trees, following the fenceline for a ways, surveying the yard and nearby field as far as he could see in the bright moonlight but of Clark there was no sign. Shivering, his feet now cold and wet, he finally headed back, hurrying into the warm house. Probably, drifting snow had covered the tracks…still… but it was late and Bud was tired and it was time to go to bed.

Shortly, Bud headed upstairs to the guest bedroom that lay at the far end of the second storey, overlooking the garage. He paused at the window, looking out into the silent stillness of the snowy night once more, still contemplating Clark Kent's enigmatic departure, his mind refusing to let go. After a few moments he turned, quietly sliding into bed, grateful for the fact that it was already nicely warmed by his wife who'd long since gone to sleep. He was still staring out the window, watching as the heavily falling snow framed each pane of glass in delicate white and wondering as he drifted off to sleep.