Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except Lacey, and believe me, she wishes I didn't. Everyone else belongs to Warner Brothers, DC Comics and all sorts of people that are not little old me.

Author's Notes: Because I completely forgot to add this in the previous post, I'd like to give a big thank you to those that have given me feedback in whatever form used. I really do appreciate it, even if I don't get around to saying so on an individual basis.


Two

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Positive."

"Really? Because this is serious. I'm giving you a chance to back out of this. You should take it."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I trust you."

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think meatloaf is supposed to look like that." Lacey said as she stared at the chunk of charred meat she had removed from her oven. She promptly dumped it into the trashcan and ignored the chuckle coming from Clark. As soon as she put the pan in the sink she headed for the refrigerator, but she didn't open it. Oh no.

She started banging her head on it.

"Whoa! Hey!" Clark exclaimed and he rushed over. He spun her around so that she was facing him. "Stop that. You might actually hurt yourself."

"It wouldn't hurt anything important." Lacey muttered with a roll of her eyes. She leaned her head back onto the cool surface of the fridge door. "I told you that I couldn't cook."

He smiled at her. "I'm sorry that I didn't believe you. But if I remember, you did mention that you cooked at Piz-"

She covered his mouth with her hand. "SHH! No! We don't speak the name of that foul place here. It's my kryptonite, thank you. It's as evil as the Eye looming over Mordor."

Clark chuckled and removed her hand. "What possessed you to attempt to cook anyway?"

"I just wanted to see if I could do it." She shrugged and let out a bitter laugh. "Apparently not. But I kind of like making these futile efforts every once in awhile. I do get tired of eating take out and frozen dinners. I can do stir-fry. And rice. Sweet rice is fun. Pasta is easy. But again, if you eat enough of that stuff, you just want to shoot yourself in the head." Lacey paused. "Maybe that's just me."

"Why don't I fix something?" Clark suggested, amused by her rambling. He was rewarded with a shifty look from Lacey. "What?"

"You do not cook."

"Actually-"

"No!" Lacey interrupted and shoved him lightly. "You can't! That isn't allowed!"

Clark sighed. "I'm going to regret this, but why not?"

"Because!" Lacey stomped her foot. "It wouldn't be fair! You're already Mr. Almost Perfect. For you to have the ability to cook would give you an even more unfair advantage. So no. You can't cook. I hereby decree you have naught that ability."

"My mother would beg to differ, ma'am." He was trying not to laugh. "Did you just call me 'Mr. Almost Perfect'?"

She nodded and glared up at him. "Yes I did.. And you just called me 'ma'am'. Why did you call me that? Are you implying I look old? Because I don't!" She gestured toward herself. "I may not be a prom queen, but I'm at least average! And hello? I'm in good shape! I can't believe you-"

He leaned down toward her with a smirk. "You like being a drama queen, don't you."

"It's one of my special skills." She replied, returning the smirk with one of her own.

"I thought so. Now what were you saying about me being 'Almost Perfect'?"

"You're too tall."

That took him by surprise and he couldn't hide it. "What?"

"Too. Tall. You're like, freakishly tall!" Lacey complained. "Everywhere I go, I'm always surrounded by tall people. It gives me an inferiority complex. Why do you guys have to be so tall? And you don't smile enough. You need to. It's good for the soul. Besides, it's a nice smile. And the hair. Really, when you ahem.. Change.. Do you keep hair gel in your pocket to get the curl? Because you have that then and it's like perfect looking when it shouldn't be. Why do you- Um.. why are you looking at me like that?"

How exactly was he looking at her? He knew he was smiling and trying hard not to burst out laughing, but what was she seeing?

"You aren't going to throw me out the window, are you? Because if you are, can I get some candy first?"

Clark laughed. This was why he liked her. She was nuts. "I'll think about it."