Disclaimer: These characters are on loan from the Smallville television series and the DC Comics Group with out permission and are not my property. They belong to the Warner Brothers Empire, which include the WB network, and DC Comics. No harm or malice is intended.

I would like to thank Christin Haney for her work and dedication to making my work look good.

Thank you for taking the time to read and please enjoy. Comments are always welcomed but please be kind and polite about it. Thank You and God Bless

Set during season three, Christmas comes to Smallville but is 'all' as it seems?

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story

Chapter One:

December 24, 2003, a small rural town in Lowell County called Smallville, Kansas, USA.

The air was crisp and cold as his lungs ached from the lack of proper warm breaths. His heart was beating so hard and so loud, he was sure that they could hear it beating all the way to Metropolis, or in this case, clear across the snow covered field. His chest heaved up and down while the rasping sound of his own lungs played a sickening song in the muffled noise of his surroundings. It was then that he saw it, a large snowdrift made the night before by the cold winter winds just ahead of the tree line. It was the only cover that could be seen on the open planes, and Alexander Luthor knew he had to get to it before they were able to reach him with their latest attack.

"You can run, Lex," a loud voice mocked from a few yards away. "But you can't hide forever."

With everything that was in him, Lex ran as fast as he could. The instincts were for him to stop the futile escape and just give into his inevitable fate, but giving up was not in Lex's nature, and as his father had stated several times over, defeat was not the Luthor way. So the twenty-three-year-old young man knew he had to get away and find solace if only to live and fight another day.

Taking one last deep gulp of the arctic like air, Lex positioned his body and pivoted up from his knees. Pushing off from the snow covered ground with his calf's and ankles, he tossed his whole body towards the direction of his one true saving grace in time to feel the rush of the wind and the sting of a distinct nip just as a deadly object shot by his ear. Hitting the top of the mound hard, Lex lost all control of his movements. Thrown off by the shock of being struck, he rolled down the back side of the small hill like drift and landed flat on his face in the wet snow. He reached to his right ear with his gloved hand trying to shake off the painful bite.

Rolling onto his back, Lex shot up as quickly as his cold, pain-filled body would allow. Shaking much of the white powered off that had covered him from his dive, he pulled his hand away from his ear. His gloves were made of the same black leather that matched his heavy jacket and it was hard to see past the color but as best as he could tell he was not yet bleeding. Warmth was coming back to his ear and Lex hoped that was a natural response after such a close call and not the gushing of his blood all over himself. He wanted to check again, but there were more important things to attend to.

Pressing his already cold body into the mound of snow, Lex slowly peeked over the top and saw as his adversaries began their approach. Despite the large, looming wall of snow between him and the enemy, they were not giving up and were approaching quickly. He spied the landscape and assessed the situation. There were three combatants, each in a different position, and they were staying low to taking cover behind whatever objects they could find along their path. One approached at 'eleven o'clock,' the other was positioned at about 'high noon.' The third, hanging back and perhaps hoping to go unnoticed, was clearly at 'two o'clock.' Each was armed with their weapons of choice. It was all Lex could do to hold back a gasp at the sight of such insurmountable odds against him.

Ducking down low and smashing his chin into the snow, Lex was able to move just in time as a projectile whizzed over his head. He fell back in defeat. Had he been a praying man this would have been one of those times where a higher power would have come in handy. Still, defeat was not an option. Although all was lost Lex knew he had to make one final stand and feverishly began working at the snow that his impact had crushed and packed together. All was lost, but Lex would not go down without a fight.

Working diligently in the snow, Lex had been turned away when he felt a gust of air behind him that was made by something far bigger then his assailant's weapons. He turned quickly and saw his close friend, the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome farm boy, Clark Kent peering over the snow bank at the approaching attackers.

"Clark?" Lex questioned. "Where did you come from?"

The young-man looked down at his friend with doe eyes. "I was just inside the woods back there." He half nodded to the line of trees some twenty yards away.

Lex studied the distance for a second and could not understand how he was able to travel that far that fast with out him noticing, but Clark was famous for always showing up at the nick of time. However, Lex's head had been a series of blurs and misdirection's in the past few months, so he needed to ask. "Why are you here, Clark?"

Again, the large, bluish-green doe eyes looked down at him. "Are you kidding, Lex?" He almost looked hurt at the question. "You're my best friend. I would never abandon you at your time of need." A toothy grin cross his face, "I always have your back, Lex."

There was no time for any further explanations or concern on Clark's sudden arrival. All Lex knew at that moment was his best friend was there, and that was a warm and comforting feeling for him.

"Do we have a plan?" Clark asked looking over the mound for a quick glance at the approaching enemies.

"Yeah," Lex returned to his work with making projectiles out of the snow. "We go down with a fight and take as many of them with us as we can."

"Lex," a cautious stare came over Clark's face. "I can get us out of here and to safety."

"No," Lex nearly snapped. "These guys have been chasing me all day, and I will not run in defeat," he paused to add seriousness to his tone. "Not this time, Clark. I'm done running."

The air stood silent for a few seconds. Clark could tell from Lex's intense concentration with the snow that he was dead serious about making a final stand. Clark knew he would have to make that stand with him.

After a few moments Lex turned back to Clark with five hastily made snowballs, which were almost falling apart in his hands. "Here," Lex gestured to the pile. "Take a few and lets go down fighting."

Clark smiled holding a stack of about twenty perfectly round and solidly packed snowballs in his arms while there seemed to be a cache' of about forty more at his side where he kneeled. "I got my own," Clark smiled. "Let's take them down."

They could hear the rustling of footsteps and breaking of twigs a few yards off. The two young men took one final deep breath and with a silent count of three and a knowing nod from Lex, they shot up to their feet and began tossing their weapons of choice.

Lex was too cold and his spears too imperfect to get a clear shot at the approaching enemy, but he was able to get the assailant at 'eleven o'clock' to dive for cover behind a small, tumbleweed looking bush.

Clark's spears were more accurate and came at an alarming pace, but the assailants were still able to duck nearly every shot. Lex had to wonder for a second if Clark was really trying as hard as he could.

Out of their armful of weapons, Lex and Clark ducked back behind the snow bank and took stock of their achievement. "I hit one," Lex gasped for the frigid air, "but I doubt a little snow ball is going to keep them down forever."

"Then there is only one thing to do," Clark picked up an armful of his remaining stockpile. "What is important is that we get you out of here."

"What are you going to do?" Lex asked looking up from his frantic attempt at more weapons.

"We are not going to make it out of here alive," Clark told him as he continued to arm himself. "At least not both of us."

"Clark, no," Lex grabbed his friend's arm. "You don't have to do this. We can get out of this together."

"Are you crazy, Lex," Clark nearly snarled. "Didn't you get a look at the amount of weapons they were carrying? They're out for blood and will not stop until they achieve ultimate victory."

"But Clark," Lex tried to caution him. "You can't do this. Not for me."

"I can and I will," Clark returned with a determined stare. "You need to get out of here while I cover for you. There's no other way."

"Clark!" Lex screamed as his friend forced his way from his grip and with one sweeping motion dived up into the air over the tall snow bank at the assailants. Jumping to his own feet, it was as if in slow motion he watched the brilliant ballet of Clark sailing through the air while continuing to lob snowballs at each of the attackers with a blurring speed.

The sight took Lex's breath away as Clark's long body sailed against the backdrop of a perfect winter field and overcast skies above. The whole event was spectacular, so much so that Lex forgot to run and could only stand in amazement at his best friend's latest feat of heroism. But the beauty of the moment was cut short as he could see Clark's left shoulder jerk upwards with the strike of the first enemy's projectile. With a flash of color the young farm boy's body was being tossed about in mid air and snow seemed to be flying everywhere. Clark could no longer throw his futile snowballs as the weapons of attackers were riddling his body.

With a loud scream that echoed across the field and through his own head, Lex let out a blood curdling cry of "NO!" as Clark's motionless body hit the ground hard, sending a blizzard of white powder sailing all about.

The world seemed to stop cold as he stood transfixed unable to move while he watched his friend lay motionless in the cold, wet snow. All movement on both sides ceased as if the reality of the moment was sinking into their collective consciousness. After what seemed an eternity, Lex was able to move his feet again. He rushed around the stacked snow with little concern for his own safety any longer and rushed to his friend's side.

Reaching the limp body, Lex could see that Clark was indeed still alive and he dropped to his knees by his friend's side. "Clark," he frantically looked over every inch on his body at the numerous hits Clark had taken. Lex marveled that Clark could even still be this aware of his surroundings.

"Lex?" Clark's frail hand moved a few inches closer to him through the snow.

"Clark," Lex scooped up Clark's upper body into his arms and turned him face up. He held tightly to him as the younger man gasped for breath. "Why did you do it, Clark?" Lex asked.

Searching for enough air to breath, Clark opened his eyes just a slit and looked into Lex's worried face. "You should have run," he groaned. "I was trying to protect you."

"Oh, Clark," Lex began to rock him. "Why did you do this?"

"I," Clark gasped for air as if it were his last breath. "I wanted to save you."

Lex leaned in and buried his face into Clark's heavy winter jacket as three shadows lurked closer until they were totally encompassing the two young men.

Looking up at them with the glare Lex growled. "You didn't have to do this," his voice broke. "He was only trying to protect me."

The pack was still and silent for a long while until the shadow to the far left lobbed a snowball that bounced off of Lex's shoulder into Clark's open flannel shirt collar and some ran under his tee shirt. "Don't be so dramatic, Lex." The voice groaned.

"Hey," Clark sat up quickly nearly knocking Lex's chin with his head as he brushed the melting snowball away. "That thing's cold."

"Oh, yeah," A girls voice taunted. "Well try these on for size!" The final two figures each threw the two remaining snowballs at Clark's chest. They bounced off into the packed snow beneath the figures.

Clark gave Lex a look of disbelief. "Are you going to let them do that to your fallen hero?"

"Dude," the shadow on the far left stepped into view revealing him to be Clark's best friend since childhood, Pete Ross. "You're already dead. Stay down."

"Sorry, Clark," Lex pushed him away and stood up with a jump. "Its survival of the fittest now."

"Get him!" Both Lana Lang and Chloe Sullivan screamed as they were the two remaining shadows. They gave chase while trying to scoop up handfuls of snow in their pursuit.

"Oh, man," Pete joined the hunt. "With Clark down we actually have a chance of winning this one. Get him!"

Clark watched as his four friends disappeared into the tree line of the woods behind the Kent's farm just out side of the Smallville city limits. He rose to his feet, brushing himself off. He was not able to stop himself from laughing at the sheer fun of the afternoon. He slowly made his way to the tree line where he was pelted by yet another handful of snow against his back.

"Hey," he turned sharply to find Lex, almost doubled over with laughter standing behind him.

"Sorry, Clark," he gasped to regain his breath. "I figured since you were already dead, another hit wouldn't do any harm."

"Great, Lex," Clark smirked. "Now I'm under friendly fire from my own team. That really hurts."

"Clark," Lex made his way over to him placing his hand on his shoulders, while still unable to stand fully straight up from his laughter. "How many times have I told you? If you go into partnership with a Luthor, you might get hurt."

"Lex," Clark helped him to stand while he too was laughing. "I've never seen you like this. I told you, you would have a good time if you came out and loosen up with us for a little while."

Lex was able to regain his composure and looked up at dark haired teen. "You're right Clark," he grinned widely. "You always know how to save me from myself."

"That's what friends are for, Lex," Clark pat him on the back. "I'm always there for you."

"There you are," Chloe's voice pierced the peace as she; Lana and Pete emerged from the woods. "Its over now, Luthor," she sneered holding up a freshly made snowball.

Clark pushed Lex aside and step in front of his friend. "You don't want to do this guys," he warned with a sincere voice.

"Again with the dramatics, Clark," Pete shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, you're dead, lay down."

"I didn't really die," Clark tried to think of an excuse for his sudden rise from the dead. "Lex had a vile of miracle juice in his jacket and after leading you guys away, he came back and fed me the cure before I actually died."

"Get real, Kent," Lana cocked her head. "That's like waking up and finding you're still alive in the shower. That stuff only happens on television."

"Hey," Clark continued his rebuttal. "I came up with this game, so I make the rules."

"You didn't invent snowball fights, Clark," Chloe chimed in. "Now get out of the way so the bald man can get his just desserts."

"Yeah, Kent," Pete stepped closer holding the snow over his head.

"I'm warning you, Pete," Clark took a defensive pose.

"Clark!" A woman's voice called from the back door of the warm yellow house, a fair distance away. "Its time to come in and get cleaned up for supper," Martha Kent called from across the field. "All of you!"

"Yes, Ma," Clark called back as they all looked over to see her wave.

Clark turned back to Pete quickly. "Gotta go," he smiled as he slapped Pete's hand down forcing the snowball to smack the assaulter in his own head. He then spun around with a large toothy grin towards Lex. "Run!"

The two boys took flight while the girls attempted to follow, lobbing their own projectiles at the pair. Pete, with flakes running down his face, attempted to catch up all the while scooping up handfuls of the fluffy white stuff in his journey.

The tossing of snowballs back and forth continued the entire few hundred yards back to the house as each turned and screamed when hit and laughed in delight at their chance of restitution.

The five of them were like children as they clamored in through the back door and piled out of their heavy cloths just as dusk seem to settle across the fields outside. They were lightly pushing and shoving at each other to get a better stand until the rush to get close to the door gave way and Clark fell to the wet floor. Jonathan Kent turned from his stand at the kitchen stove and gave them a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," Clark tried to regain his sheepish composure as the other giggled behind him.

"Be careful, son," Jonathan warned half harshly. "All of you take your shoes off and leave them on the mat by the door and place your coats on the hooks above it."

"Yes, sir," the less than cheery voices came back one at a time. Before long, there were four teens and one young adult standing in the middle of the kitchen in stocking feet. Some of their heals were a bit wet, while Clark's entire right side was soaked from his fall.

"Here you go," Martha entered the kitchen holding out three sets of slippers. "These are Jonathan and Clark's slipper plus and extra pair." After the boys each took a set, she pulled the knitted slippers from under her arms. "And here are a few pair of my own home made snuggies."

"Or puppons, as Clark use to call them," Jonathan added with a grin.

"Dad," Clark gushed as his face turned slightly red.

"Sorry Clark," his father replied with a deep throaty chuckle. "Everyone sit down and I'll pour you a cup of my world famous hot chocolate to warm you up before we all move to the dining room."

The noise of chairs moving as the kids slipped into their warm foot wear was nearly deafening for a few seconds while Jonathan poured the contents of his warm pot into the large set of mugs that were lined up along the counter by the stove.

"So, Lex," Jonathan grinned placing two mugs before the girls after the ruckus had died down. "What did you think of your first real snowball fight of your adult life?"

"Actually," Lex sighed looking up at the elder blond man. "My first snowball fight ever, Mr. Kent."

"What?" Clark chuckled as he tried to dry his arm with the dishcloth his mother gave him. "You can't be serious."

"Actually I am, Clark," Lex replied taking his warm mug from Jonathan's hand. "In boarding school I was the object of many warranted snowball attacks, but I never actually fired back."

"Are you saying that you never retaliated?" Chloe asked sipping on her mug.

"Not in such a small favor," Lex said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I always had an army of Luthor Corps lawyers and body guards who were willing to slap an injunction on my classmates for harassment and assault." He took a small sip and then remarked to their surprised looks. "Needless to say I was never felt welcomed at any school I ever attended for very long."

"I find it hard to believe that you never struck back," Lana shook her head.

"And don't believe it, Miss Lang," A strong resounding voice came from the living room as Lionel Luthor entered the room looking very relaxed in his turtleneck cardigan sweater with matching sports coat. "I am afraid that as usual, my son is glossing over his own dubious deeds in these matters."

After a quick glance at Lionel's entrance, four sets of eyes around the table were aimed back at Lex. "I never did anything that was uncalled for."

"Such as a cherry bomb in the boys lavatory two minutes before lights out," Lionel spoke up with a hint of amusement. "Or the entire trash bag filled with ice cold water dropped from the second story window of your dorm room."

"Hey, you try and find triple-enforced Hefty bags while in a prep school," Lex grinned.

"My favorite was, of course, the taping shut of the school's football captain's butt cheeks while he was asleep," Lionel finished with the taunt.

"Lex?" Clark eyed his friend with disappointment.

"I heard about it in a movie once," Lex shrugged. "I wanted to see if it could actually be done."

"What did you use?" Pete asked with wide eyes.

"Lets just say that Duct Tape is a multi use tool," Lex replied with a hearty smile as he raised his mug to his lips.

"Oh," Pete tossed himself back in his seat. "That was so cold, Luthor."

"Yes," Lionel sighed. "That school was almost his longest stay if Lex had made it past the first four months."

"Not even Luthor money could buy off a congressman's son," Lex raised his mug as it giving a toast. "It was my first lesson in there being a higher power than my father."

"Don't you worry, Lex," Lionel smirked. "Come election year, we are all on equal ground again."

The room was silent after a quick laugh and Lex turned his attention to his father again. "So Dad, what brings you to the Kent home on Christmas Eve? I would have thought there were a million things to attend to back in Metropolis."

"Are you kidding, son?" Lionel slipped into the wood chair at the far end of the table. "I would not miss another annual Kent Family and Friend Christmas Eve Dinner if my life depending on it."

"That's right," Martha placed a warm mug of coffee before him. "I spent the first three months of this year reminding your father how disappointed we all were at his snub last year," she seemed to jokingly nudging at his shoulder with her elbow. "My plan was to shame him into coming for sure this year, and it worked."

A strange twinge of 'something is not right with this picture' came over Lex for a second, but he shrugged it off. "I guess if the Mister and Missus Kent are happy to have you here, then so am I," he raised his mug again.

"The Luthors are always welcome in our home," Jonathan said slipping back in the door with an armful of logs for the fireplace. "I'm sure having a few billionaires around from time to time won't hurt the property value either."

"Jonathan," Martha slapped his shoulder playfully as he passed by her.

"That is quite alright, Martha," Lionel smiled up at her. "I am sure that there may actually be some validity to that statement in some people's minds."

Again the twinge of misplacement struck at Lex's consciousness, but he still shrugged it off. No one else in the room seemed to be having any misgivings with any of the events, and everyone actually appeared to be enjoying each other's company, including the presence of Lionel Luthor.

"So tell me," Martha spoke as she returned to her spread of food that was being dished into serving bowls on the counter. "How did the dedication go in Metropolis this morning, Lionel?"

"Very well, actually," he replied sitting back in his chair. "I'm sorry that you could not make it to the event. I could always use my valuable assistant by side at these dedications."

"Well, I'm sorry," Martha grinned with her divided attention. "I just had so much to do for tonight's party that I just couldn't pull myself away."

"Here, Mrs. Kent," Chloe jumped up and took the large serving bowl from her hands. "Let me bring that into the dinning room for you."

"We'll help, too," Lana added as she stood nudging Pete's arm. "The sooner the food is in place, the sooner we can eat."

"I'm all for that," Pete chimed in, willingly taking two bowls in his grasp and followed the girls into the next room.

"Dedication?" Lex repeated with a puzzle look. "I don't remember any dedication on your calendar."

"Nonsense, Lex," Lionel gave his son a cursed stare. "I have been practically begging you to go to this event with me for the past two months, but you wouldn't have any part in a dedication named after your little brother."

"Little brother?" Lex was confused and made no efforts to hide it.

"Yes, Lex," Martha joined into the conversation. "The Julian Luthor Pediatric Wing at Metropolis General Hospital. Since your father donated the money to build it, the hospital insisted that it be named after a family member."

"And who better to name the children's wing after than the youngest Luthor," Lionel grinned at the thought.

Lex thought for a moment. "The Julian Luthor Memorial Pediatrics Wing," he said aloud. "It has a real ring to it."

"What memorial?" Lionel looked shocked.

"Yeah, Lex," a young voice came from the hall behind him. "Who are you trying to call dead?"

With a start, Lex turned quickly to see a young boy about twelve years in age standing in the doorway. He was slim, but still strong and handsome with his auburn hair cut short over his cheekbones and jaw line. There were still hints of baby fat, but it was apparent from his build and his flush demeanor from running up the hall that this was a very healthy and active little boy.

The striking resemblance to himself at that age brought recognition to Lex's mind in an instant. "Julian?"

"Yeah, Lex," The boy crossed his arm defiantly. "Just because I spent the night over here with the Kents doesn't me you can count me out just yet."

"Julian," Lex repeated with a start again. "Oh, my God, you're here."

The younger Luthor looked strangely at his older brother. "What is wrong with you, Lex?" He questioned as he slowly entered the room. "You look like you haven't seen me in forever."

"Perhaps," Lionel commented from a few feet away. "Your brother may actually be building up a fondness for you on this holiday season."

"That would be a first," Julian snarled.

"Hey, buddy," Clark pulled the boy close to him and wrapped his arms around the youth from behind. "Remember what we talked about last night?"

Julian nodded once.

"Good," Clark pulled him closer. "Just because Lex may give you a hard time doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

The alarms were going off in Lex's head, but still the sight of his long believed lost brother pulled at his heart, and a tear rolled down his face. "Julian," his dry lips parted with a cry. "Clark is right, I don't hate you," he paused hoping to show some semblance of control. "I love you, little brother."

Clark quickly released the boy who threw himself into his brother's arms. "Oh, Julian," Lex wept uncontrollably. "I thought sure I had lost you forever."

Julian, surprised and confused returned the hug anyway, and then whispered, "But it was only one night, Lex."

Lex could not explain his own reactions any more than his brother, but he said what was in his heart. "It felt more like an eternity, little brother. It felt like you were gone forever."

Lionel Luthor rose slowly from his chair and walked over to his sons who were still locked in the embrace. He leaned over and placed his hand over both of their heads. "I never thought I would see this day," he gushed with heartfelt emotions. "After all the times I have tried to pit you against each other in mortal combat to see which should be my rightful heir, you have both managed to find some way to love each other as brothers in the way it always should have been."

He crouched down and the three Luthors placed their heads together in a moment of loving affection. Lionel wrapped his arms around his sons' shoulders and embraced them together. "This," his voice cracked. "This is a Christmas miracle."

"Indeed it is," a gentle woman's voice came from behind them.

The voice broke through the moment like a sledgehammer, and Lex's attention was immediately drawn to it. He knew the voice almost as well as he knew his own, but it had seemed so long since the soft tone and gentle lilt had tickled his ear and rested in a feathered fashion against his mind. The sound was more welcomed than a haunting tune and more desired than all the world's riches.

Squinting with urgency, Lex laid his blurry eyes on the sight of the lovely red haired woman who stood in the doorframe to the dining room with Martha's arms draped around her for comfort. Her hair was long and silky as it reflected the colored lights from the Christmas garland. Her face was still strong and vital with the type of youth a million years could not touch. Her lips were strong and flowery and she had no need for makeup and in fact wore none. The long flowing dress seem to drift in the warm flow of wind that came from nowhere in particular, while her blue eyes danced and laughed in their perfect place despite the apparent tears. These were not pained filled eyes like the picture of her in his mind, but they were healthy and rich blueness seemed to cascade on into forever like the oceans Lex had seen in his youth. She was strong. She was vital. She was the woman he had always seen her as, and hoped he would see her as again. Lifting his head even the more, Lex took in her full beauty. She was Lillian Luthor, and she was his mother.

"My three boys," here gentle voice rang across the room. "Together in an embrace." Covering her mouth, she gulped for air and then slipped aside her hand. "This truly is a Christmas miracle."

Alexander Joseph Luthor forced himself up to his feet in spite of his shaking body and weakening knees and slowly glided across the floor towards her. Without realizing what he was doing, his hand did not leave his brother's back, but was in fact gently pushing him along with his journey. The few feet to stand before her seemed as miles and the seconds were eternities. His free hand rose to her face, and Lex touched her warm inviting cheek as her hands caressed his.

"Mom," the word nearly died in his throat as Lex tossed himself and his brother forward into his mother's waiting arm. "Oh Mama," he sobbed wildly into her shoulder. "You've come back to me, Mama."

Lillian wrapped her long arms around her handsome son and held tightly to him. "Baby," she too cried. "I never left you."

Lionel pulled Julian free from the smothering of his brother and Mother between them and held tight to his youngest son as he watched Lex and Lillian adoringly. The Kents were also watching in a loving family embrace from across the room, but no one dared to speak in possibility of ruining the moment.

After a long while, Lex looked over his mother's shoulder at the remainder of his family and the family that had at times been even closer, and he marveled at the joy he felt in the moment, but a twinge kept gnawing at him. He pulled his mother in closer and continued to cry.

"Somehow I feel like this is not right," he whispered more to himself than anyone else, "but I don't care."

Lillian ran her hand down the back of his baldhead, and Lex cried again, "I don't care."

To Be Continued