Chapter 4

"I know what you're thinking," Jonathan Kent said in a knowing and resigned tone as he sat down next to his wife.

Martha, who had taken a particular interest in the surface of her coffee that morning, looked up at her husband with a start. Megan, who had eaten like a horse at dinner the previous evening, had yet to wake up from sleeping in Clark's room. She had offered to take the couch in the loft, but Martha had insisted on a genuine bed. But just because Megan was, for the moment, ought of sight did not by any means mean that she was out of mind. After a modest breakfast, Martha had fallen into a reverie over her morning cup of Folger's, and Jonathan knew exactly what that reverie was about.

"Lana has a daughter," Martha observed with an uncharacteristic wryness. "In her time, Chloe probably has kids, and Pete, and maybe even Lex. But Clark…"

"Martha," began Jonathan gently, "I don't want to get your hopes up, but at the same time we don't know anything for sure. We have no idea about Clark's…compatibility…with women. And even if he's not naturally, there may be something that can be done. As much as I hate to think of Jor-El in any remotely positive light, maybe one day Clark will master his mysterious technology. Then, he might be able to use it to make it possible for a human to bear a Kryptonian child. We may yet have a grandkid or two."

"Yeah, but the odds are so discouraging," Martha sighed. "Jonathan…to be honest,…do you remember that time when those men came after Clark for that sample of his blood that Morgan Edge hired him to steal and Clark had to actually cut himself to try to get them to go away."

Jonathan nodded slightly, scowling at the memory.

"Well, horrible as it was, I…couldn't help but feel a little relieved…when he cut himself…and what came out was actually red."

Jonathan gave her a sad and empathetic smile.

"I feel like a bad mother for even thinking that at a time like that."

"It's okay for you to want Clark to be as biologically similar to humans as possible," Jonathan reassured her. "The only way that could become a bad thing is if our love for hime changed according to that, and I know neither one of us would ever let that happen."

"No, of course not," Martha conceded. "I just…wish I knew…right now…if Clark would ever be a family man. I mean, I'm not so sure we did him a favor by giving him such a family-centered upbringing,…because we may have instilled in him yet another desire that may never be fulfilled.

"Martha…don't go regretting how we raised him. I think we did a fine job, especially given Clark's uniqueness," Jonathan paused, searching for the right words. "If we had raised him without the sense of family he has, I don't think he would be quite as level headed as he is. And God knows, he of all people needs a level head."

"Jonathan…I see it in his eyes every day. He wants to have a friends and a girlfriend that can be honest with and not have to hide who he is. He wants to eventually get married, and I just know that…when he really let's his imagination loose…he even dares to think about what it would be like to have kids. And at the same time, he knows his chances are slim. It just…pains me to see him like that."

"It's not easy for me, either," Jonathan admitted. "But, you know, he can always go with a Kent family tradition and adopt."

Martha smiled at him gently. "Yeah. That's one comforting thought I have. I'm sure Clark would be a great and loving father whether the kids who called him Dad were actually related to him or not."

"But there's still a little something to be said for being able to have kids of your own," Jonathan finished her thought for her.

Martha nodded.

"We just have to cross our fingers and…hope for the best," said Jonathan quietly.

"Knowing that Clark will do the right thing, no matter what," his wife added.

A knock at the back door interrupted their thoughts. Jonathan rose to his feet, but no sooner was he erect than he took a step back. Through the small window in the door, he recognized Jason Teague, the very man whose mission Megan had come to thwart. Martha's slightly opened mouth demonstrated that she recognized him as well. She exchanged a glance with Jonathan, wordlessly reminding him of Megan's instruction, given just the past evening, to act natural if they should happen to encounter Jason.

Controling the urge to give Jason a piece of his mind, Jonathan decided that standing in front of the door with a bemused look on his face was not acting natural. He stepped forward, gripped the doorknob, and opened the door.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," said Jason with his usual politeness that, until the previous day, had fooled the Kents into thinking highly of their son's football coach. "Mrs. Kent," he added with a nod in Martha's direction.

"Hello, Jason," Martha said quickly to spare her husband the risk of saying something he would later regret if he opened his mouth.

"What brings you to the farm?" Jonathan finally managed to say with as much false hosptiality as he could muster.

"I, uh, actually have a message for my star quarterback."

"Clark's visiting Kansas State," Martha informed him.

"Yeah, so I heard. I hope he gets in," said Jason.

"Thank you," Jonathan said ambivalently.

Jason nodded. "Anyway, could you just tell Clark that next Thursday's practice has been moved to Friday. Normally, I'd just ask one of his teammates to tell him, but since he's still just a little bit new to the team, I don't think any of the other team members know how to reach him on his cell."

Martha had a passing thought that, were Jason genuine and not a time traveler hired to get rid of an innocent girl, she would've promptly given Jason Clark's cell phone number. But, seeing as Jason wouldn't be around much longer (at least, she hoped), she really didn't want to do anything explicitly benevolent for the enemy, even in the name of feigning ignorance.

Jonathan opened his mouth to confirm the date, but he was stopped by the ring of Jason's cell phone. Taking it off his belt, Jason's eyes grew serious as he looked at the screen that identified the caller.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled nervously. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take this outside."

Jonathan was quick to open the door, secretly wishing Jason's exit to be permanent. "Sure," he said.

"Thanks," replied Jason as he stepped out.

Jonathan resisted the temptation to slam the door and closed it.

Outside, Jason swiftly brought his cell phone to his ear. "What?" he asked, sounding a little irritated.

"We need to meet," came Vincent Edge's cold, gruff voice from the other end.

"Again?" Jason responded, puzzled. "What happened?"

"YOU happened!" Edge almost yelled, catching Jason by surprised. "You gigolo! We're not paying you to go back in time so you can see how many times you can get laid before you technically even hit puberty!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ol' man Luthor, or more appropriately, young man Luthor, has pictures of some of your wild nights out at those clubs!"

"How did he do that?"

"You don't know Lex Luthor very well, do you?" Edge observed irritably.

"Look, I'm no idiot. I make sure I have all bases covered so Lana doesn't suspect a thing. I keep track of our dates, and if she happens to come to Metropolis, I have a tracking device on her so I'll know."

"He was considering ratting you out to her," Vincent informed him sternly. "You could've jeopardized the entire operation!" he roared.

Jason massaged his forehead. "Five million dollars," he chanted to himself softly.

"Okay, fine. Where do you want to meet?" he said, returning the cell phone to its post beside his mouth.

"In the warehouse next to Luthor's old plant. It's not so old yet, so beware of employees creeping around," Edge answered, intense irritation still sounding in his voice. "And Teague…"

"Yeah?"

"If you screw this up, you'll be dead before your own fifth birthday!"