Title: "Like a Melody"

Summary: "A pretty girl is like a melody/That haunts you day and night." A new addition to the Kent family is sickly, stubborn, and challenging. Lex Luthor does not like to be challenged.

Author Notes: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTES AT THE BEGINNING OF EACH CHAPTER! Pineapples for everybody, especially WomanofMystery! Well, two worlds are about to meet as Kate and her father travel to Smallville. I hope you enjoy this, but be warned: there is some cursing in this chapter! Nothing too scarring, but just so you know. And I do intend to stick to my chapter-a-day plan for the present. Hopefully.

This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Lala-Ness. She is one of my favorite writers and a loyal reviewer (and I swear, I will post the next chapter of Lady Behind the Fan!)

THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE FANFICTION

Chapter Four

Fate will bring together those a thousand miles apart;
without fate, they will miss each other though they come face to face.

--Chinese Proverb

Being a military brat, Kate had been on all sorts of roadways, in all sorts of towns and cities. From the curvy back roads of Kentucky to the traffic choked expressways of California, she had seen the lot. Having had such experience, she was pretty confident in her conclusion.

Country people drove like they were smoking some freaky weed.

That's not to say people in big cities don't drive crazy. They most certainly do. But the crazy driving in the city was a controlled form of chaos. In the country, there was no telling what kind of insane driving maneuvers you would see. And apparently, beat-up Ford trucks were the best thing since sliced bread.

Kate's foot was beginning to tingle as she struggled to keep constant pressure on the accelerator. The speed limit was universally ignored on this particular stretch of road, so it served no purpose to set the cruise control. In the past ten minutes, Kate's poor little Honda had gone from 70 to 45 back to 70, finally settling on her current speed of 55.

It just hadn't been a good day. Even the weather was overcast and depressing—a perfect reflection of how Kate felt. Packing up her room had taken so little time, much less than she had expected. It was pretty pitiful how everything you owned could be bundled away into two suitcases and four cardboard boxes. Standing in her bedroom, looking at the empty closet and empty shelves, Kate almost cried.

But she didn't. Kate left that up to Chris.

Judging by the look on his face, Chris looked more than willing to steal away in a box if it meant he could come with her. He had stopped by that morning to help her load her car, yawning and rubbing his eyes. No doubt he had been up late painting—not partying like her father suspected. Even the most flamboyant of men were wary of hitting on Chris when he smelled so strongly of turpentine; it sort of killed the mood. Kate didn't mind the smell—it reminded her of time when she wasn't sick.

Chris had given her such a kicked puppy look that morning. "I wish…that it didn't have to end this way."

Kate deigned not to look at him. "It's not the end, Chris. I have to come to Metropolis for class and for my appointments. And I'll call…"

"But it's not the same," Chris sighed, almost pouting. "You're my best friend, and I don't want us to grow apart. Maybe I'll come to see you."

Kate snorted. "I'm having some trouble envisioning you in flannel," she teased, glancing at Chris' present outfit of ripped hipster jeans, slightly smudged blue eyeliner, and some t-shirt fishnet concoction. Chris would give the locals fits of apoplexy if he ever popped by for a visit.

"I'll suffer the flannel if it means I can meet some nice country boys."

"I don't think you're going to find many," Kate challenged as she slapped some duct tape on top of a box. She shook her head a little, trying to get that particular image out of her head.

"I'd settle for bisexual. Or bicurious," Chris smiled. His face suddenly sobered. "Listen, you call me if you need anything—anything at all, got it?" Pulling Kate to her feet, he gave her a tight squeeze, burying his head into her bony shoulder. "I'll miss you, you little ingrate."

Kate blinked, trying to bat away the memory and the tear threatening to slip down her cheek. A few raindrops splattered the windshield. Well, at least Mother Nature was sympathizing with her. Kate flicked on her headlights and the windshield wipers as the drizzle became a summer thunderstorm.

At least the country drivers had enough consideration to slow down in the rain. Kate idly tapped her finger against the steering wheel, noting the mile marker. Only five more miles and then she'd be in—

Suddenly a black Ferrari sped by her, cutting sharply into her lane.

"Shit!" Kate cursed, slamming her breaks as the bumper of the Ferrari came dangerously close to clipping her. Her tires squealed in protest as they caught for traction on the wet roadway. "Shit, shit, shit!"

The Ferrari didn't even pause as it continued on its reckless course, quickly fading from view in the rain. "Holy fucking shit," Kate snarled angrily. Her cell phone started to ring, jangling loudly in her purse.

"What?" Kate snapped as she answered the call. The adrenaline rush was making her irritable.

"Kate, honey, are you alright? I saw that asshole cut you off—"

"Fine, Dad, just fine," Kate clipped. She really wished Dad hadn't seen that; he already worried enough about her health without having to add her driving to the list. He had allowed her to lead the way to the Kents' farm; clearly not a good idea in retrospect. "Probably some corporate hardass getting his jollies from the day."

"Did you see the plate?"

"It had a vanity plate, but I don't recall what it said," Kate replied, ready to get off the phone. Driving in the rain was bad enough, but she didn't want to be on the phone as well.

"Kate, you've got to pay more attention—"

"I was a little more concerned with not hitting his bumper, not reading it!" Kate yelled, thoroughly exasperated. "Good-bye. I will talk to you when we get to the farm." With that, Kate hung up and threw the phone into the passenger's seat.

Gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands, Kate exhaled slowly, trying to get over her adrenaline rush. Her legs were shaking still from the near miss. She laughed. How morbidly funny it would have been to have her life snuffed out in a car accident rather than languishing in a hospital bed with cancer! She laughed a little harder, almost hysterical. How fucking funny!

Getting herself back under control, Kate cruised into downtown Smallville as the rain let up, her father dutifully following in his car. It was…quaint. Like Mainstreet, USA with all of its country shops and parallel parking spots in front of the stores. Judging by the shiny parking meters, this place actually had meter maids. Kate rolled her eyes. This was worse than a tourist trap. This was a town stuck in the 1950s—probably still had a Farmer's Market on the weekends.

As she passed out of the downtown area, Kate picked up the directions to double-check the address. "Oh, that's not good," she muttered. All that her father had written down was Hickory Lane—no house number. She sighed tiredly. This meant she was going to have to cruise the length of Hickory Lane looking for their house.

Today just wasn't her day.

After scanning for a few minutes at the farmland on either side of the road, a yellow farm house loomed into view. A wooden sign proclaiming 'Kent Farm' hung over the driveway. Kate slowed and turned onto the unpaved driveway. Her Honda bounced and jarred, rattling Kate's teeth as she kept a tight grip on the steering wheel.

Kate parked her car as Dad pulled up next to her. He gave her an encouraging glance as he climbed out of the car, brushing off his shirt and looking over at the farmhouse. Steeling herself for the worst, Kate slowly got out of her car, tugging on her own shirt to get rid of wrinkles. She shouldn't be nervous; it was just some country-bumpkin family.

It didn't stop the sudden flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

The Kents stood on the porch, staring expectantly as she walked around the car. Her uncle looked so serious, like someone had shot his favorite cow or something. Aunt Martha—how was she ever going to get used to saying that?—looked friendly, but she still looked awfully wary of the approaching strangers. And her cousin…well, he was a farm boy, pure and simple.

Kate tried not to look too disappointed.

Dad clapped a hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house. "Ready?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Kate looked up at the Kents as she reached the porch stairs.

"I hope so."

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