Sorry about the wait folks, this chapter took a bit for it to work itself out in my head before I could write anythingup on it. As it stands I now have the very begining (chpt 1), the semi-begining (chpt 2), and the semi-end or possibly the ending wrote up. Just have to make them meet to keep the flavor of the story I wanted when I wrote the semi-ending/ending.
Zeynel - Wasn't aware that there was a setting for reviews to allow and disallow anonymous posts, but thank you for telling me. I have changed the settings to now allow them. :)
The gust of air moving through her kitchen was her only clue that her son had come home early from Lex's house. A quick glance at the clock told her that he didn't spend too much time there if at all. Either something exciting was going on or something had spooked her son. She frowned as she continued to snap the green beans in the sink, Clark would tell her when he was ready. Clark reappeared shortly after his wake had died out dressed in sweat pants, an old white t-shirt and running shoes.
Something must have spooked him, Martha thought to herself. She smiled softly at her son, "Going for a run, sweetheart?"
Clark shuffled slightly, his expression more sad than scared, "Yeah, I'll try to be home in time for dinner."
Martha nodded at his words; eyes measuring his face and pose carefully, "I'll keep you a plate if you don't get back in time."
At his relieved smile she gave him a slightly stern look, "We'll talk when you come home, okay?"
"Okay mom," happy grin when he saw she wasn't going to press the issue. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before bounding out the door, long strides carrying him easily down their driveway and onto the main road.
She watched as he continued to jog normally down the road until he passed out of her view and with a shake of her head refocused her attentions to her dinner preparations. She could appreciate the need to move while thinking something over, something she herself used to do as a young girl and didn't want to be interrupted while she worked over a problem. Her father encouraged her equestrian pursuit; it was an approved activity for a young lady of her family's station.
The trilling of the phone jolted her out of her musings. Another reason for the horseback riding, no phones, ruefully thought as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel to pick up the receiver. "Kent residence, this is Martha Kent speaking."
"Hello Mrs. Kent, this is Lex Luthor," the young man's voice holding a note of calm that sounded to her motherly ear a bit forced.
Her smile crossed her face and her voice reflected her amusement as the familiar words came out of her mouth, "Martha, Lex. What can I do for you?" She imagined the sheepish smile on his face that he usually gave her as he accepted her mild chastisement.
A slight sigh escaped his mouth unbidden as he spoke, "I was wondering if Clark had come home. My father was here when he showed up and he caught the tail end of some of his malicious commentary. After my father left, I learned that Clark had dropped by but didn't stick around long enough for me to put what he heard into context."
The corners of her mouth were tugged downward by a frown as she modified her earlier assessment, not spooked, upset. Oh dear…
"Mrs. Kent?" Lex's questioning tone told her she had mused a bit too long.
"I'm sorry Lex, just thinking of where my son might have run off to since he isn't home yet," she covered, easily skirting the fact that her son had come home and gone again.
"Does he have particular places he likes to go?" Lex prompted helpfully.
If she knew her son as well as she thought she did, he'd probably go to hisusual spot by Crater Lake to vent his frustration at Lionel. He and Pete used to play along the northeastern shore where it went from woods to rocky outcroppings; skipping stones and watching the fish swim by. As her son grew older and learned that injuries from tripping on rocks were not to be, he grew bolder and found a small nook to hide in. He told her about it when he had come home all gritty from the dust in the cave-like hollow, how the cave made his voice sound funny to listen to.
"Well, Lex," she said slowly, as if she had to think more about where her son had run off to. "If you think he ran off upset…"
"Yes?" eagerness tinged with a bit of impatience.
She ignored the tone with gracious amusement deciding that her son should work over his problem with Lex's company than being alone, "…then I'd have to say to start looking for him by Crater Lake." If she managed to work this right she may pull off a night over for Clark on Lex's offering earning her a quiet night with Jonathan.
"Crater Lake? That's a bit far from here on foot, Mis…ah…Martha, do you really think he'd go that far?" his dubious tone at Clark achieving that kind of distance coming over the line loud and clear.
"He's a strong runner, Lex," was all she said to counter his doubts. "You could check the Talon or possibly Pete Ross's house, he may have gone there. There's always the Torch office if he went to speak with Chloe. If not there then I'd try the lake, he and Pete used to have a favorite hiding spot when we went on camping trips along the northeast shore near the rocks."
"Thank you Martha, I'll let you know if I find him."
"You're welcome, Lex. Should you find him before he comes home, let him know not to worry about dinner. You may have to spend some time talking him out of his bolt hole."
Confusion evident in his voice, "Martha?"
"Pizza helps," she advised sagely, "good luck dear." She hung up the phone before letting lose a mischievous chuckle.
"Uh-oh, something tells me you've done something wicked," Jonathan's teasing voice came from outside the back door as he removed his dirty boots.
"Nothing too horrible, just sicked Lex on our brooding son," she replied airily.
Jonathan paused over the threshold, scowl falling into place at the mention of Lex Luthor and their son in the same sentence. "Why would you go and do a thing like that?"
"Because Clark's "upset" kind of brooding. Seems he caught the tail end of one of Lionel's speeches to Lex and didn't stick around long enough for Lex to put it into context."
"Well good for Clark, he shouldn't need to have Luthor put anything into context. If it means that Clark finally sees him for what he really is, then I know I'd feel better that he's not going over all the time. If this keeps them apart then I'm all for it," Jonathan's words drifted to her from the bathroom as he washed up. Then the sandy blond head poked around the corner as he asked, "Did you tell Lex where to find Clark?"
Martha smiled to herself after she turned back to her cooking, blithely ignoring her husband's ranting. "I told Lex that he might find Clark at the lake. I also told Lex to feed him pizza. I expect our son to come home tomorrow fed and happy." She waited for Jonathan's reaction to that news.
"I will NOT have Clark spending the night at Luthor's place!" Jonathan's reflection in the window showed his reddening face.
She merely nodded as she stirred the gravy for the potatoes, pitching her voice to hold a slight tinge of hurt, "If that's what you want then you go find your son and tell him so. I, however, had hoped that you'd want to spend an evening with me without having to worry about what's eating at Clark."
Martha wasn't above using her emotions to manipulate situations to what she wanted when she felt it was for the best. She grew up with a lawyer for a father and cut her teeth on word games that were more complicated than this. She knew Jonathan would carry on like a wounded bear to cover for the fact that he was giving in to her wishes in this matter. It was a matter of pride for him, and she could understand and appreciate it. She started setting the food on the table after fixing Clark's place and placing it into the refrigerator for later, sensing his impending acquiescence.
"All right," he groused after watching Martha prepare Clark's plate, the scowl on his face deterring nothing as she worked. "If Lex invites him to stay the night then he can, as long as he's back in time for his chores."
She cast Jonathan a happy grin that he couldn't help but return as she playfully swatted him with a dishtowel, "Go change for dinner you grumpy ole bear."
A roll of his eyes and a long suffering sigh, "Yes, dear." The light steps on the stair betraying the jovial mood he hid at the prospect of a night without Clark in the house.