A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers. I estimate this story to be about 18 chapters long, so stay tuned.

Chapter 2

Drat, nothing but static. Chloe attempted to stay calm. Right, what kind of station would buy radio space in the middle of Kansas?

"…SM country, bringing you the latest and greatest from the 80's."

Just great.She turned the dial a bit more. I bet I could get a signal if there were meteor rocks in the backseat. 102.7, a city-based station, struggled to surface.

"Come on, pleeease."

"…Could've been a small town… and when the rain would… I'd just stare… window."

"Nooo. Arggh." I've had it up to here with Smallville.

She gave the dash a dirty look and reached under the seat for her collection of CDs.

"Eww, what are these?" Oh, wait, they must be from that bag of M&M's Clark spilled last week. "And a sock?" She knew they'd escaped from the hamper somehow, but this was pure desperation. She could see the headlines now "Sock exposed while attempting daring escape to city." I hope this isn't the best I can come up with to keep myself entertained. Otherwise, this is going to be a very long trip. "Metropolis, here I come!"

"Ouch, that's hot." Martha Kent flung a piece of hot bread in the general direction of her plate. It crashed mid-flight atop a steaming pile of baked potatoes. "Oh, dear."

Clark sat down long enough to realize he didn't even have a plate.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I forgot to set a place for you."

"Unless you've stashed the dishes in a lead cabinet somewhere, I'm pretty sure I can find one myself."

"It just that you've been gone so much lately . . . and I--"

"Mom, believe me, its okay." He sat down again, plate in hand.

"Your mother's right, son." Jonathan Kent wiped a splotch of grease off his thumb. "We hardly see you any more."

Clark swallowed and rolled a pile of peas onto the empty surface in front of him.

"Sweetheart, isn't there any way to cut back?" Martha smoothed a napkin across her lap.

"I've got a deadline coming up."

"Clark, there are chores to do, regardless of what is going on. You know we've let this slide in the past, but you're needed at home." Jonathan was serious.

Clark stuffed another piece of bread in his mouth. "I know. I'll make it up."

"Can you make it up this week?"

Clark stopped chewing.

"…because your mother and I are planning a trip out of town."

"You--you're leaving?" A crumb flew out.

His mother gave him the "Clark-we-may-have-raised-you-on-a-farm" look.

"Sorry." He resumed chewing.

"We're going to visit your mom's cousins in Vermont. We'll only be gone about a week."

Clark remembered the last time they'd left him alone with the house. Not a fond memory. The entire school had shown up at his party. If only his parents hadn't come back early.

"Well, and it's just been so long since we've been anywhere." Martha smiled and shrugged.

"We need you to run the farm while we're gone. Can we count on you, son?"

"Uh, sure, dad. You know me--Mr. Responsible." Clark grinned sheepishly.

"You're sure you can handle this?"Jonathan had faith in Clark. He knew his son wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

He speared the last two peas and stared at them intently. "No problem."

"Clark, stop playing with your food." Martha was bound and determined to maintain a civilized household.

"Look Ma, burnt peas!" They were still smoldering, but he stuffed them in his mouth anyways. They reminded him, vaguely, of little flaming marshmallows.

Martha sighed and looked over at her husband. He had become re-involved with the potato on his plate. Boys, they're all alike. She smiled to herself.