Disclaimer: Yeah, don't own 'em

Little SisterSomewhere in the Midwest

Frank drove through New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri in two days. The entire trip he contemplated what exactly he was to do with the child in his backseat. She was little more than a baby. Her vivid green eyes watched his every move, almost as if expecting him to hurt her.

By the time he crossed the Missouri-Kansas border, Frank knew that killing her was no longer an option. But neither was taking her back to Elysian Fields. George would have him killed on the spot, if he wasn't in a mood and decided to torture him first. His options were very limited at this point. Dropping her off at an orphanage would link them and Frank didn't want this to come back on him should the cops get a clue.

"What am I going to do with you?" Frank mused out loud. Khyrran simply watched him; he stared back. "I should just leave you on somebody's doorstep." 'Why not? It's a solution to the current problem,' he concluded.

The next road sign read Smallville 15 miles. 'Perfect,' he thought. It was 3 a.m. He was anxious to turn around, go home. Frank pulled off the Interstate and took a two lane highway into the country side. He was about five miles from the actual town when he came upon a dirt road. There were lights coming from a farmhouse about a mile away. Frank turned down the road, with the headlights off. Thankfully, it was a full moon and he could see perfectly. He pulled up close to the farmhouse. Sitting on the front porch was a large vegetable basket. Frank wrapped Khyrran in a blanket, put her in the basket and gave her the last bottle George had provided. He said traveling with a decaying corpse might attract attention. She took the bottle and stayed silent as Frank left, almost like she was glad to be rid of him. 'No more worries,' Frank said to himself as he climbed back in the car. 'Two more days and this will all have been nothing more than a dream.'

The thing about farmers, they start their day not long before the sun rises. Jonathan Kent went out on his front porch to watch the sun break over his land, only to receive the second biggest shock of his life. There was a baby girl sitting in his wife's vegetable basket. Jonathan picked her up, basket and all, and headed back into the house. His fourteen-year-old son, Clark came bounding down the stairs as he headed into the kitchen.

"What's in the basket, Pa?"

"Surprisingly enough, the stork got his houses mixed up and left us a baby. In the vegetable basket, nonetheless," Jonathan answered.

Martha Kent turned from the stove upon hearing her husband's remark. "Did you say a baby, Jonathan?" Her eyes had gotten suspiciously bright, just like they thirteen years ago when Clark came into their lives.

"Now Martha…" Jonathan may have well as held his breath.

Martha lifted the little girl out of the basket almost before he had set it on the table. Clark took a seat at the table and watched the unfolding drama before his eyes. Martha rubbed her thumb over the child's cherubic cheek and gasped as her eyes fluttered open. The little one yawned, then launched into a full fury scream.

"Well at least we know her lungs are okay," Martha said. "Clark go down to the cellar and see if you can't find your old bottles."

"There's one right here, Ma," Clark announced as he pulled the empty bottle from the blanket.

Jonathan took the bottle rinsed it out, and poured milk into it. "I hope she likes her milk cold," he said as Martha took the bottle. The baby calmed down almost immediately at the familiar sensation. Martha handed the baby and the bottle to Clark and resumed cooking breakfast. Jonathan went out on to the porch again.

Clark caught on quickly; he had fed calves this way since he was seven. Except this infant had two legs instead of four and was resting against his chest. Her green eyes watched him as he watched her. She sighed as she finished the bottle. Pushing against his chest, she sat up in his lap. Clark noticed a wet spot in his jeans from her action. He lifted her up and sure enough her entire sleeper and his pants were wet.

"Ma, we have a small problem," Clark announced. Jonathan walked back in and peered over Clark's shoulder.

"Go change, son. I'll take her." Jonathan took the child and Clark dashed upstairs. Martha tossed him a dishtowel. "You know that we have to call the local authorities, Martha. This is hitting a little close to the past."

"Can't we call that social worker friend of yours? Mike what's-his-name? He helped make sure we kept Clark," Martha said as she set bacon and eggs on the table.

"Martha, what are the odds that another Sputnik baby landed on our doorstep? Maybe one in a million. This child belongs to someone, Martha."

"I know. But we wanted a child for so long and we were blessed with Clark. I feel bad that he is an only child and I would love to have a daughter."

"I understand, but could we really deprive a grieving mother for our own selfishness?"

"You're right." Clark's arrival ended the private conversation. "Here, I'll change her while you call the Sheriff."

Clark helped himself to breakfast while his parents were otherwise occupied.

The County Sheriff, Paul Adams, pulled up just before ten that morning. Clark was in the barn with Jonathan and was the first to notice they had company. "Hey, Pa! Sheriff's here!"

Martha had already invited Paul in and offered him coffee. The baby was sitting in the living room in a makeshift diaper courtesy of the kitchen dishtowel community and the smallest t-shirt of Clark's Martha could find. Jonathan and Clark joined them.

"Really, I can't believe this. In our town. This is just outrageous," Paul said. "Was there anything that might tell us who she is in the basket?"

"No, just the bottle and blanket," Jonathan answered.

"Well, we'll have to call a social worker in from Topeka. But considering this is Friday and they won't send anyone out today. Is there any way you could keep her until Monday as temporary foster parents?" Paul asked.

Martha and Jonathan exchanged looks. After being married as long as they had, entire conversations could be exchanged without ever having said a word. Jonathan finally answered.

"We'll keep her."

"Okay then. I'll go back to the office and fill out the paper work. A social worker should be out here sometime Monday afternoon." Paul drained his coffee mug and took his leave. Jonathan walked him out.

Martha looked at the baby. "This is going to require a trip to town."

Not long after Martha, Clark and the little girl left, Jonathan finally sat in the living room. Mike Hartley was from Smallville. He graduated with Jonathan and ended up going to college at K State. He was now a social worker based out of Kansas City. Mike had helped them out when they "adopted" Clark. Jonathan was hoping that Mike would pull through for them again.

Mike was happy to help out an old friend. He even called the Topeka office to handle this case. They were swamped at the time and didn't have an extra hand to send out into the countryside, as they put it. Besides, Mike personally knew the Kents and could place the kid with them, which meant one less kid in the system, assuming the cops didn't have an identity for the kid.

Mike swung by the Sheriff's office before heading out to the Kents place. They had no leads, but would keep looking. He thanked them for their help and to contact him should her identity be established. Not that he expected it to be. To many kids went missing this day and age that were never found. Besides he had been waiting for this.

Jonathan and Martha were waiting for Mike when he arrived. Clark was put in charge of the little girl for the meeting. She was easier to deal with now that she had new pajamas and diapers that fit. His parents had asked him if he would be okay with them adopting her, assuming that they could. He had thought about it and in the end, Clark guessed that being an only child was kind of dull. Little did they all know that today was going to be a day of surprises.