Lois Lane pushes through the densest crowd of people she's seen yet at the Farmer's Market, amazed this many people would visit this place voluntarily. Looking around, she's sure that she's in hell, and that this is the population of the underworld speaking a strange language punctuated with hellish phrases such as "yes, ma'am" and "beg your pardon." If there was one thing she's certain of, it's that she could go the rest of her life without begging anyone's pardon.
Thankfully for her, Farmboy is tall enough to poke over the heads of the throng of pardon beggars, otherwise she would have lost him by now. What she can't quite figure out is why there are so many people at this particular end of the market? What is so special about this end? Do these imbreds just naturally gravitate south?
The bushy black hair she's got her eyes on stops bobbing as Clark reaches the end of the crowd. Curious, and on a mission, Lois breaks through the last few people to see what has caused the mass migration.
"Isn't it hot?" Clark beams, somehow knowing Lois is right behind him.
"Hot? Oh yeah Road Warrior, that's one hot hawg," Lois says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Clark's new found passion for metal," Of course, her mind has already shown her a picture of Clark's body hugging the leather seat.
Clark too, can see himself riding away on the steel horse before him. "It's a Harley," he purrs, his eyes fixed on his prize.
Indeed, it is a Harley. A beautiful black Harley Davidson motorcycle up on a stage next to a strange little man Lois is convinced is having some sort of seizure. He's talking really fast and every now and then she can hear a number spouted off through his incomprehensible speech.
"Why did they give this freak a microphone?" Lois asks herself, still reeling by the ridiculousness of this one horse town.
Of course, Lois is not a dummy, she knows the crazy man is an auctioneer, but he lacks certain amount of class that the one she first saw at Christie's possessed. Perhaps it's his accent. Perhaps it's the worn cowboy hat atop his sun dried raisin head. Or perhaps it's the fact that after every concrete bid he would spit
"Well, now that you've found something else to occupy your pubescent desires for the afternoon, can I have the necklace back?" Lois asks bored.
"What fun would that be?" Clark asks before jumping an unearthly jump up to the stage. Lois never knew that Clark was a motorhead, but judging by the length of his leap, he must really be into motorcycles.
"Whoa boy, you have to bid on it. This is a charity auction," the auctioneer cautions Clark, sticking out his pudgy arm with a cigar nestled between his stubby fingers.
"Just let me sit on it," Clark begins, moving past the porker's arm. "Come on, someone as pretty as me sitting on this bike will only drive the bid higher," Clark says with a smile, throwing his leg over the bike.
As if on cue, a wrinkled woman down front enthusiastically cheers out a new bid. The auctioneer considers it for a moment, spits, and then intones, "Okay, then." Without missing a beat he jumps right back into the auction frenzy, which has been kicked up a notch or two.
Lois climbs up onto the stage and the auction gets louder still, so much so that the auctioneer can't keep up with the overlapping bids.
"Is Peaches up there an optional addition or does she come standard?" a distant voice calls out over the crowd. Lois's temper sears as she turns around to see who said that. Looking over another crowd in Smallville with cash up in the air, she can only imagine that these farmers get their paychecks in one dollar bills.
"Come on Peaches, let's go for a ride," Clark says, snatching Lois off her feet and planting her down on the bike right in front of him. Getting cozy he wraps his arms around her to get a grip on the handlebars.
"Boy howdy!" the auctioneer exclaims, as the bids continue to soar.
x X x X x X
Jonathan brushes off Chloe as paternally as he can, completely out of his element in the realm of teenage girls. "Chloe, what's wrong with you, today?" he asks, hoping the answer is something he can handle.
"Me? What about Clark? He's the one acting like an alien," Chloe says desperately.
Jonathan's eyes widen. Surely she didn't just say what he thinks she said.
"I mean he's not acting anything like himself today," she adds, honestly a little freaked out.
Jonathan stiffens, that one clue sparking his memory. "How is he not acting himself?"
"I've seen him get this hot and bothered over Lana before, which I'm starting to learn to accept, but for him to go full bore horndog on Lois is just—" she's cut off by Jonathan.
"How much of a," he has to find verbal strength to finish the sentence, "of a horndog?" Jonathan asks, about to shiver at the thought of having this conversation.
Chloe's face pulls up on one side and her eyes go wide. "Wow, Mr. Kent, that was pretty weird to hear you say—" he cuts her off again.
"Chloe, answer me," Jonathan barks like a Dad.
"Clark's acting like he's had about six too many double shot tall lattes."
"In plain English, please, Chloe," Jonathan feeling his age as he tries to communicate with a teenager.
"It's like he's on drugs, Mr. Kent," Chloe finally admits.
Jonathan straightens up realizing what's wrong. "I have to find my son."
He takes off in the direction Lois and Clark just went. Chloe, never to let a good story get away, follows in hot pursuit.
x X x X x
Lois pushes against Clark's immovable arms which have her trapped in a prison of mortification. The auction proceeds at an alarming rate, fueled by the libido of Smallville's community.
Clark looks around the motorcycle quizzically, trying to figure it out.
"How do you turn it on?" Clark asks, happy that he's got two precious objects in his possession.
"Hold on, boy," the auctioneer responds, "I think your motor's revvin' just fine by itself."
"Let go of me Clark!" Lois demands, beating on his arms, having had her fill of everything macho or hick for the day. All she can do is imagine a time when she was far away from farms, farmers, farmer's markets, and most especially farmboys. She can practically feel the city calling her.
Feeling like an animal caught in a cage, she has no choice but to act like one. Driven by her fury, she leans down ready to bite hard into his arm.
"Twenty-thousand!" the auctioneer squeals, the pitch of the microphone piercing her ears, taking her attention off the impenetrable flesh right before her.
The crowd is reaching fever pitch, something Lois and Clark specialize in today. The bidding has reached a record $20,000, well more than what the bike is worth. And, since the "charity" the bike was being auctioned for was never fully explained in any of the flyers, the auctioneer was eager to milk the audience a bit further.
"You two hot young kids are gold. Hey boy, I'll give you five bucks if you plant a kiss on that gal right now!" the auctioneer offers, digging his fat hand into his jeans.
"Like Hell you—" Lois begins to protest, but then a call comes from the crowd.
"I'd pay ten to see that!"
"I wouldn't do it for less than twenty," Clark says with a wink.
Immediately, a twenty dollar bill folded into a paper airplane sails into Clark's forehead. Lois's eyes fly wide with panic.
"Bidder, bidder, we have a winner!" the auctioneer screams, slyly leaning down to pick up the twenty and then shove it into his pocket.
"Don't you even dream of it doughboy!" Lois warns, trying to wriggle free of Clark's grip.
Clark, having seen the auctioneer pick up his money, takes the opportunity of the man being distracted to find the ignition to the bike. Clark doesn't want the money, he's got his heart set on taking the bike.
With the chanting of the crowd growing louder, Clark slides his fingers off of the handlebars and slips them around Lois's waist. His fingers glide over her tank top, up her neck and over her cheek. He cranes her face around to his, and dangles his lips breathlessly close to Lois's.
Lois's mind tells her body to break free, to use one of those spin moves her Dad taught her for just such an occasion. But, her body doesn't move. Instead she finds herself relishing Clark's warm gentle breath as it whisps past her lips and onto her tongue.
Their lips barely meet, the skin dancing and gliding together as if in a choreographed ballet. She can't help herself from leaning into it, not objecting at all as his large hands cradle her stretched neck. Her hands drop to their side, no longer pushing on the bike's tank to push herself off of the bike. Her feet limply drop off of the exhaust and dangle helplessly over the stage floor.
Then, with alarming speed Clark thrusts his tongue into her mouth, quickly lassoing her own.
She pulls away, disgusted, spitting and rubbing her retching mouth.
Clark plays the crowd, throwing his arm up in the air triumphantly and then wiggles his tongue around in the air. The crowd loves this.
"Clark!" Jonathan bellows over the crowd, trying to use whatever control his parental voice has over his intoxicated son.
"Clark!" Chloe screams tapping the last reserve of horror she didn't use beating herself up over her actions earlier.
"Uh oh," Clark sighs, "we've got to cut this short." He says, latching an arm around Lois, fully intending to not let her out of his trap. With his other, he cranks the bike's engine sparking it to life.
Unfortunately for Clark, the leg of his jeans has caught in the bike's chain. When the motor spins to life, and with him too inexperienced to leave the brake on, the chain takes hold and rips his jeans completely off. The bike also lurches forward spillng Lois unceremoniously to the floor.
The prize in his pants, namely the nasty little necklace that started it all, flies out across the crowd, connecting with the person who it was originally intended for.
Chloe takes the blow square in the forehead. She blinks for a second, and then falls back stiffly.
Jonathan sees the necklace laying on the ground, sees the red stone and instantly recognizes it. He lays the heel of his boot on it, shattering the little rock with his weight.
Clark, coming to his senses finds himself on a motorcycle, in his underwear. A thousand questions float through his brain. Why is he here? Why is Lois on the ground in front of him wiping her mouth? And why oh why did he choose to wear the joke present that his Mom had gotten him for Valentine's Day: white boxers with pink hearts?