Jonathan rubbed a hand along his cheek and frowned thoughtfully. "I think so, what about you, Clark?"
Clark solemnly rubbed his own hand down his father's jawline and nodded agreement.
"Okay, then, I definitely need a shave."
As Clark watched, perched on the toilet tank, Jonathan opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out his father's old-fashioned shaving gear. The only thing he'd ever changed was a safety blade instead of a straight-edge, now that there was a toddler in the house. He'd made that decision reluctantly, as it was more a matter of principle than necessity, since Clark could hardly hurt himself with it, but he finally decided that he had to set the safety first example.
He daubed on the cream and had to admit that he was adding artistic flourishes, given his intent audience, with each stroke of the razor along his skin and then swishing it in the bowl to clean off the hairs and old cream.
The ritual wasn't quite finished, though, even when he rinsed his face. Putting a hand under Clark's chin, he examined the toddler's face, then gravely rubbed a hand along Clark's face. "Maybe not today, son, for a full shave." He waited for Clark's consideration of the question and nod. "Just a brushing should take care of it." He took out the second, dry brush, and to Clark's giggles, tickled every inch of his face with it, giving extra attention to his nose and under his chin.
***
Martha heard a car pull up and groaned to herself. Clark had been particularly energetic that morning and even her efforts, combined with Jonathan's, hadn't been enough to tire him out. When she heard the knock, she called, "Hi, Perry, come on in. We're running a bit late here."
The taciturn young man came in, nodded a hello, and then grinned at Clark, who came running in, recognizing his new friend from the farmer's market. "Pointy hair?" Perry hauled him up so he could touch the gelled spikes.
After he'd inspected Perry's hair, Clark made his latest demand of any grownup he encountered, "Tell me a story?" Martha could only turn to hide her smile, since the boy who was considered the most talented writer Smallville High had seen in years was rarely heard to utter more than five words at a time in public. He kept below that record as he answered, "You tell me one."
Clark, struck by this new idea, frowned in concentration and then began to tell Perry about a dog named Rusty who had extra-special magical powers, while Martha finished packing the produce she'd enlisted Perry to help her deliver.
She and Clark finished at the same time, and Perry delivered his verdict. "You tell good stories."
***
"Clark?" Jonathan didn't even bother looking in the house after that one call, but went right out to the barn, where Clark had doubtless returned to watch the new goats. As he passed through the kitchen, Martha was distractedly looking around with her "I know I put it down right there" expression and he paused.
"I know I whipped that cream," she said, in answer to his raised eyebrow. "I could have sworn I put it in the refrigerator, but it's not there, and it's not in the freezer, and I..." He left her to it as he went in search of Clark to get him cleaned up for dinner.
There was a loud bleating and Jonathan saw Clark, as he expected, with the lop-eared goats, who were happily surrounding him and vying for his attention, even while he admonished, "Don't eat it!" while patting whipping cream into the billys' beards, while they were industriously licking it off.
*****
AN: Yes, it's been a long time since I visited, longer still since I posted. The bunnies are stirring again.
Yes, Perry is violating canon. But why on earth would I let that stop me now?
Clark solemnly rubbed his own hand down his father's jawline and nodded agreement.
"Okay, then, I definitely need a shave."
As Clark watched, perched on the toilet tank, Jonathan opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out his father's old-fashioned shaving gear. The only thing he'd ever changed was a safety blade instead of a straight-edge, now that there was a toddler in the house. He'd made that decision reluctantly, as it was more a matter of principle than necessity, since Clark could hardly hurt himself with it, but he finally decided that he had to set the safety first example.
He daubed on the cream and had to admit that he was adding artistic flourishes, given his intent audience, with each stroke of the razor along his skin and then swishing it in the bowl to clean off the hairs and old cream.
The ritual wasn't quite finished, though, even when he rinsed his face. Putting a hand under Clark's chin, he examined the toddler's face, then gravely rubbed a hand along Clark's face. "Maybe not today, son, for a full shave." He waited for Clark's consideration of the question and nod. "Just a brushing should take care of it." He took out the second, dry brush, and to Clark's giggles, tickled every inch of his face with it, giving extra attention to his nose and under his chin.
***
Martha heard a car pull up and groaned to herself. Clark had been particularly energetic that morning and even her efforts, combined with Jonathan's, hadn't been enough to tire him out. When she heard the knock, she called, "Hi, Perry, come on in. We're running a bit late here."
The taciturn young man came in, nodded a hello, and then grinned at Clark, who came running in, recognizing his new friend from the farmer's market. "Pointy hair?" Perry hauled him up so he could touch the gelled spikes.
After he'd inspected Perry's hair, Clark made his latest demand of any grownup he encountered, "Tell me a story?" Martha could only turn to hide her smile, since the boy who was considered the most talented writer Smallville High had seen in years was rarely heard to utter more than five words at a time in public. He kept below that record as he answered, "You tell me one."
Clark, struck by this new idea, frowned in concentration and then began to tell Perry about a dog named Rusty who had extra-special magical powers, while Martha finished packing the produce she'd enlisted Perry to help her deliver.
She and Clark finished at the same time, and Perry delivered his verdict. "You tell good stories."
***
"Clark?" Jonathan didn't even bother looking in the house after that one call, but went right out to the barn, where Clark had doubtless returned to watch the new goats. As he passed through the kitchen, Martha was distractedly looking around with her "I know I put it down right there" expression and he paused.
"I know I whipped that cream," she said, in answer to his raised eyebrow. "I could have sworn I put it in the refrigerator, but it's not there, and it's not in the freezer, and I..." He left her to it as he went in search of Clark to get him cleaned up for dinner.
There was a loud bleating and Jonathan saw Clark, as he expected, with the lop-eared goats, who were happily surrounding him and vying for his attention, even while he admonished, "Don't eat it!" while patting whipping cream into the billys' beards, while they were industriously licking it off.
*****
AN: Yes, it's been a long time since I visited, longer still since I posted. The bunnies are stirring again.
Yes, Perry is violating canon. But why on earth would I let that stop me now?