-------------Cocky Locky's Disbelief--------------

Martha Kent was never one to condone a late riser. Having instilled the value of a good morning's worth of work in her son long ago, she was more than a little disgusted with the fact that it was now seven and he still hadn't deigned to show his face. He was home, the least he could do was sit with her in the kitchen while she made breakfast. In fact, it was almost ready, his nose should have awakened him by now.

As if in response to her thoughts, the back door opened and Jonathan entered. Scowling up at the ceiling, he set the plastic newspaper bag on the table. Taking off his coat, he smiled at Martha before leaning over to give her a kiss. "That lazy son of yours still not up yet?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. No son of mine would be late for breakfast." She carefully kept her voice pitched at a level she knew would draw Clark's attention.

"All right, all right, I'm up!" Trumbling down the stairs, Clark yawned and scratched at his back. Having forgot how uncomfortable his bed had become, it ached to sleep on it for too long. Catching his appearance in the mirror just before the dining room, he shook his head. The hair would be a lost cause until he took a shower.

Carrying the platter of eggs over to the table, Martha took in the appearance of her son and sighed. Once she had set it down, she ran her fingers through his hair until it was sorted. "Honestly, what is that city doing to you? Late to rise, hair all a mess, you would think you didn't sleep last night. The chickens down the street can attest to the fact you did and I'm sure the window panes are glad you are awake."

Snorting, Clark leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Morning, mom. I didn't snore, really, I don't snore." At her look, he ducked his head. Taking his seat at the table, Clark dug in to the eggs before his father could. "I, just, had a little trouble sleeping last night. A good friend of mine is upset with me, well, Superman actually and I guess it weighed on my mind a bit."

"No kidding, the last time I heard that kind of rolling coming from that room was... Well, never mind." Suddenly interested in breakfast, Jonathan took the spoon from Clark and started to pile on his own plate. Handing it to Martha, he grinned at her. "It looks wonderful, dear. You've out done yourself again."

Patting his hand, she doled out two strips of bacon to him. "Nice try, Jonathan, but you know the doctor's orders. The only reason we are even having bacon is because Clark is home." To emphasize her point, she put two pieces on her plate, then set the rest on Clark's. Seeing her husband giving Clark's plate a longing stare, she shook her head. "Some times I wonder which do you love more, me or my cooking."

"Your cooking comes second, always." Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. With a final look at the bacon, he set about getting the spinach leaves she had made to counter. A balanced breakfast meant twice as much healthy as fattening. To that, he also had orange juice, and pineapple on his plate. To finish it off, he had fresh made bread. "You know, Martha, no matter how much I love your home made bread, this canned stuff from the market is great too."

"Good, now I won't feel bad for the fact I've decided never to make mine again. Twelve hours just for a few loaves, it isn't worth the hassle." Spreading her own with butter, she turned back to Clark. "Your father and I have been considering making a few changes to the farm. He won't say it, but it's just become too much for the both of us these days."

"Oh? If you need my help, all you have to do is ask, I'll be glad to do the extra work. Really, it would be no trouble at all." Meeting his mother's gaze, he put on his 'world's greatest son' look as she had once dubbed it. At her sigh, he faltered. "Is something the matter, mom?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, we aren't getting any younger, Clark. We need to cut back and enjoy the perks of being our age." Taking a sip of her orange juice, she made a sound of happiness. She savored the flavor. "This is really good. You always did know how to pick out the best fruit, my smart little boy."

"For heaven's sake, Martha, give the boy a break." Annoyed by the show, Jonathan picked up the paper and pulled the bag off. Turning to Clark, he used it as a pointer. "What your mother is trying to say, not so successfully, is that she wants grand children."

"We want, Jonathan, we. And there is nothing wrong with longing for something that every mother longs for as she gets older." A thump on the table startled her as it set the dishes to bouncing and drinks to sloshing. Glancing up from her plate, Martha saw it was only Clark's forehead. "Oh now, Clark, I'm not arranging your marriage or anything like that."

"Only because all the girls his age in town are taken and we live too far from Metropolis for you to meddle." Laughing, Jonathan tried to feel sorry for his son. For the life of him, he couldn't do it. He was a single man at the right age, it was time for him to settle down. "Are you at least looking? We would be satisfied if that were the case."

"For now." At Clark's look, she returned it full force. "I have nothing to be ashamed of. Wanting my son to be happily married with children is perfectly normal."

"Mom." One plaintiff word expressed everything he wanted to say. He was a grown man, he didn't need her reminding him that he wasn't married. "I'm superman, it's still very new. People are still getting used to the idea I exist. And in all honesty, I don't think a relationship would work out even if the other person knew my secret." Picking up a piece of bread, he stuffed his mouth before he could say more. She was his mother and he had a tendency to over react to any suggestion he wasn't comfortable with. If he went on, he would venture past logical to whining.

Giving her husband a look, Martha smiled and sighed. "Don't think I'm going to give up so quickly because you won this round. Now slow down, this isn't a race to clean your plate."

Chuckling, Jonathan picked up a piece of bacon and stuck it in his mouth. Chewing slowly so he could enjoy the forbidden food, he picked up the paper. The next moment he was choking on it and gasping for breath.

Alarmed, Clark sped around the table to his father's side and patted him on the back until he gestured him away. He looked to his mother when he caught her rising from her seat.

Breathing roughly, Jonathan waved them both off. Face ruddy from the fit, he thrust the paper at Clark. He slapped it a couple times to show what set him off.

Clark frowned as he looked at the paper. It was the Daily Planet, Kansas City edition. Scanning the headline, he had to read it three times for the words to register in his mind. Even then, it still didn't make much sense. To clarify, he read the article that accompanied it, quickly dropping it after he finished.

"Oh, for pete's sake." Picking up the paper, Martha adjusted her glasses and read the headline then the article. Mouth open as she finished, she lowered the paper slowly. Taking a deep breath, she let out a disappointed sigh. "Well."

"Mom, I can explain." Clark was silenced when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"That's okay, Clark. There's nothing to be ashamed of." Patting his shoulder a couple times, she smiled for him. "You'll just have to adopt. There's nothing wrong with that, we did, after all, and look how well you turned out."

"Martha." Voice strangled, Jonathan grasped for his glass of orange juice and guzzled it. Shaking with relief when he was done, he cleared his throat several times. "Lets... Let's all just sit down and finish breakfast. We'll deal with this later." Satisfied when they complied, he looked down, forlornly noticing the chewed up bacon on his shirt.

Still smarting from the whole thing, Clark plopped down in his chair. A warning look from his parents caused him to take greater care when he pulled up closer to the table. There was one thing clear in all this.

No matter what, Lois was dead.

----------------------------

Head aching, Jimmy pushed the shower curtain back to let himself out. After the conversation he hadn't meant to be overheard, he had spent the rest of the night proving to himself he could get drunk. From the way the dim lights over the sink made his brain hurt, he had succeeded. Turning them off, he let the morning sunlight filtering through the blinds guide him through drying off and getting dressed.

On his way to the door, he felt hesitant to go out there. Who knew what they had printed about the fight yesterday. There was certainly enough damning evidence to infer a mountain of speculation. Through out the night, he had gone over any possible evidence they might have had. The conversation, pictures of Micky mauling him, and the articles he had contributed on, it added up to a very ugly scenario.

Grateful for once that he didn't get the Daily Planet delivered, Jimmy opened his door. What he saw scrawled across his door, however, sent his mood plummeting. Slamming the door behind him, Jimmy tugged his jacket hood up. This was not going to be a pleasant day.

----------------------------

Stepping off the elevator, Clark adjusted his tie for the tenth time before deciding it wasn't worth the effort and pulled it off. Sticking the offending noose in his pocket, he glanced about the newsroom. There was more activity that was normal for a Sunday morning. Then again, after the headline that morning, he wasn't surprised.

Anger welling up in him, he had to force himself not to find Lois and melt her with his laser vision. Heaven knew, she deserved whatever happened to her from here on out. The article had been pure spite and bullshit. If he could, he would get her kicked back down to the metro section.

The sound of ripping cloth brought him back to his senses and he released his pocket, which now hung open halfway off the jacket. Calming himself less he do damage to something or someone, he walked down the steps. People gave him a wide berth, allowing him to head straight for the editor's office. Gripping the handle, he felt it squish in his hand, but didn't care. Pulling the door open, he nearly jerked it off its hinges.

Inside, a grinning Perry too one look at Clark and wiped the good humor on his face. "Clark! What the hell do you mean by coming in here like that? Boy, you about gave me a heart attack!"

Reaching in to his back pocket, Clark pulled out a rolled up newspaper and threw it at the man's desk. It went through a glass trophy, shattering the thing instantly. "You want to tell me just what the hell this is, sir?"

Going still, Perry looked at the remains of his prize through narrowed eyes. Voice flat, he addressed the reporter. "I think you know what it means."

Stomping his way over to Perry's desk, Clark loomed over the man. "I thought you had integrity or doesn't the reputation of this newspaper mean anything any more? Are you that desperate to sell a few more papers that you would stoop to slander?"

"I'm going to forget you just asked that out of deference to all the hard work you've done for me. But if you don't get out of my office right this minute, you won't be so lucky." Swiveling his chair so he could face the man down, Perry rose slowly from it. "I'm giving you a chance to keep your job, that's more than I would have given anyone else."

"You can take this job and..." Backing up, Clark shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe it. All this time I was wrong about you. You're no better than anyone else." Turning on his heel, Clark marched over to the door. Closing it quickly behind him, he let it shut on its own momentum.

Crossing quickly past the copy editor's desk, he grabbed a box of note books and dumped them. Taking the box, he walked to his desk and started to throw everything that he owned in it. Lowering his glasses, he fried the hard drive on his computer before picking up his box. The next person would have to worry about getting a replacement, he was through.

Stomping his way to the elevator, he ignored the startled looks everyone was giving him. Once there, he waited a few seconds for the car to rise, but when it didn't come fast enough in his opinion, he took the stairs.

When it finally arrived, a very disgruntled Lois stepped off. Putting a kick in her step, she strode down the stairs toward's Perry's office. At the door, she was about to turn the handle when she felt finger grooves in the knob. Shaking her head, she pushed the door open and came face to face with an irate Perry. "Perry?"

"Lois." Perry grabbed her by the shoulders and shifted her to the side so he could look past her. Leaning out of his office, he looked over at Clark's empty desk. Releasing a heavy breath, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Now's not a good time."

"You're telling me!" She was about to go on, but Perry stared at her. His haggard appearance was enough to silence the bitter diatribe she was about to launch in to. Pointing over her shoulder, she gestured to the newsroom. "I've got a new lead, something for tomorrow's headlines."

"Good. Get to it." Grasping the door by the handle, Perry gently, but forcefully, shut it and her out.

----------------------------

"What the hell are you doing here?" Favoring the right side of his face, Jimmy tried his best to glare at Michael. The swelling made the feat almost impossible. Having been hiding in his usual Sunday afternoon hangout, a place he thought no one knew about, Jimmy hadn't expected for the asshole to appear in front of him. As it was, he was ready to throw up the lunch he just had all over Michael.

"I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing." Glancing about him, Michael took the seat across from Jimmy, ignoring the other's appearance. "I'd have thought, after this morning, you'd be laying low."

"After yesterday, I should lay you low! You're a fucking dick, Micky." Unable to tolerate the other man's mere presence, Jimmy rose from his seat and tossed a twenty on the table. It had been a struggle visiting the public teller this morning, but he needed money after yesterday's cab fare. He had come away with every penny he withdrew, but the fight had left him battered.

Trying to keep Jimmy there, Michael reached out and snatched his arm. He didn't count on how pissed Jimmy was. The retaliation was as quick as it was violent. The uppercut caught him under his jaw, throwing him from his chair and over the table.

Breathing heavily, Jimmy stared at where the other man laid on the floor unmoving for a minute. It took several tries before he could calm himself enough not to go ahead with another attack. He wasn't that person, he wouldn't become the monster. Now shaking from the adrenalin shock, Jimmy looked up shakily to stare around him.

The cafe had gone quiet, but no one was stepping in to intervene.

Turning, Jimmy brought up a hand to his face, then winced when he realized how badly it hurt. He shook his head, then staggered out the door.

----------------------------

The knock on his office door almost earned the rapper a quick pink slip, but Perry bit back on the thought before it gained voice. It wouldn't due, he could face penalties for that spiteful action. Besides, he could always fire them later. Heaven knew everyone around there did enough to warrant it at least once a week. Instead, he blew out a long plume from his cigar before clearing his throat. "Enter."

Twisting the handle, Kat frowned at the strange pattern imbedded in the knob before pushing the door open. The stink of tobacco had filtered through the door in to the main office warning any who had thoughts of seeing the editor now wasn't a good time. Despite this, she perceived and stepped inside. Holding up the three by three floppy disc, she walked over to Perry's desk. Without saying a word, she set it down in front of him.

Knowing what it was, Perry picked it up and pushed it inside his hard drive with enough force to make it wobble. Bringing up the document, he scanned it quickly. Halfway through, he slowed down and the cigar on his lip began to sag. Taking it out, he wiped his mouth and glanced up at Kat. "Is this true?"

"Every word." Feeling triumphant, Kat sat down across from Perry and threw her ankles over the arm of the chair. It was a good day when she surprised even the boss.

"This is good work. I'm surprised Lois didn't cover it." Saving the document, he sent it to the printing department. It bothered him, that Lois had missed this much information. Leaning back, he began to wonder just what else they missed. "I won't say I'm sorry we printed the story. At the time it was news."

"But?" Keen eyes tracked his every nervous moment. Yes, it was a fantastic day.

"But..." He took a deep breath, frowning at her. "We may have jumped the gun a bit on this one."

"I just love it when I'm right, don't you?" Sitting up, she placed both her feet flat on the floor. "So, what was the final death toll for this morning's printing?"

"We sold out." He enjoyed the way she went still. When she raised her eyebrows in surprise, he picked up his cigar again. "Even with the extra printings, world wide, we sold out. A full two hundred percent over normal Sunday Circulations is the final tally."

"Well, it's nice to finally know the price of our reputation." Rising from her chair, she twisted so she could lean a hip against his desk. Knowing how much it bothered him, she flicked at the pens in his cup. "If you keep printing that market rag drivel Lois keeps writing, and I use the term loosely, our reputation as a serious newspaper will be shot. That is the only reason so many people bought this morning's edition. If we print it, it has to be true."

"You've made your point. Both you and Kent... Never mind." Sending a cloud her way, Perry exhaled his anger. "Since, as you stated, Lois can't be objectional and it falls under your jurisdiction as society columnist, I want you to continue following this. As the only one he might be willing to let near him, I want you to speak with Jimmy. Get his take on this whole thing and see if we didn't just step in some serious dog shit, instead of falling in it face first."

A sly smile in place, Kat stood up. "I like how you think, Perry. And for the record, this is what you should have done in the first place. Lois has no business messing with my field of expertise." Crossing to the door, she reached for the handle, but stopped once her fingers settled on it. Something had occurred to her. Turning it, she smirked. "You should have told me Superman came by earlier. He left finger prints in the door knob, so I know he must have been pissed. Boy, I would have loved to been a fly on that wall." Laughing, she let the door slam behind her.

Wincing from the reverberation, Perry rubbed his head. He almost yelled at her, but her words replayed in his head.

Perry's cigar fell from his lips.

----------------------------

Respected Reporter Turns Green-Eyed Journalist Bitch!

By: Kat Montgomery

I may not be on the best of terms with The Daily Planet's 'Star Reporter', but I have always respected her work ethic. That is, until I saw her article in the morning edition.

Many have accused this reporter of being a tabloid journalist. While I'll admit to being rather Katty in my reports, but it is, after all, my job. What I level refuse to sink to is printing unsubstantial rumors! I do not sell out my friends, and would never attempt to destroy a promising career simply because I was unable to get into a pair of pants!

Getting the scoop is one thing, Lois, but being a vindictive bitch and humiliating a friend because of jealousy, is another. James Olsen is a good photographer, and despite your little 'crush' on the man of steal, you owe him better. And another thing, I thought you always checked your sources?

While Lois is ruining her journalistic integrity, I, on the other hand, secured an exclusive interview with one of the men involved, Superman Fanclub President, Michael 'Micky' Bay. Talking to him, I must say, while the fan club's president was less than original, he did make it clear it was his fault.

Kat:Who kissed who?

Micky: I don't kiss and tell.

Yeah right, folks, everyone knows you take an interview with me, you dish.

Kat: Come on, its your fifteen minutes of fame, you know Olsen's Kiss rocked your world.

Micky: I rocked his world!

Forgive me the cliches, ego stroking is not a subtle art form.

Kat: Excuse me, I thought he kissed you...

Micky: I kissed him, Jimmy was speechless.

Kat: How do you feel about the recent photos of Olsen with Superman?

Micky: I would never- I didn't know Superman and Jimmy Olsen were an item!

Kat:And now?

Micky: Superman is a very busy person, I can be there for Jimmy when he isn't. I don't want to step on any toes, but if Superman wanted to join us…

Okay, so he didn't even suspect? Really, is he the only person in metropolis that doesn't read the tabloid headlines in the supermarket checkout?

When asked if he had reason to believe his attentions would be welcomed: "Well, not in so many words, no, but come on. Jimmy never mentioned a girlfriend, and he always sat next to me. A perfectly eligible man like him, what was I suppose to think?"

All right, this reporter is all for going after your man or woman, but generally, asking them out on a date; a late night, drunken phone call; or even a gift is acceptable. Trying to eat someone's face is not a good way to start a relationship! No body likes a sloppy kisser.

When I brought this up, "but he didn't say no," was the reply. Come on ladies and gentlemen, how many times have we heard that one? How many times has that been the lame ass justification given? If it doesn't stop a sexual harassment case or a cuff carrying cop, you think a street wise reporter is going to buy it? Really, he could have given me more creative quotes, but he didn't, so this reporter works with what she has.

Besides, even if the alien wedding fantasies of all Metropolis' single women have died, the replacement erotic dreams concerning two of Metropolis' cutest men together are much more satisfying! Wouldn't you agree ladies? After all, while we can't have them, we can still watch.

Final thought to Lois: Draw in your claws, bitch, before you lose them!

[For full interview, see morning edition, Lifestyle and Entertainment.

----------------------------

Slamming the shirts from his dresser in to the suitcase, Clark emptied the last of his drawers. Closing the case, he slammed the locks shut hard enough for them to imbed themselves in the wood. It didn't matter, after this trip, the suitcase would never be used again. Tossing the drawer back at the dresser was very tempting, even if only to finally break something.

Despite his obvious outrage over the story, Clark had kept a level head over his packing. Precious things thrown about didn't last long. At least most of his furniture could handle a little abuse. Speaking of which, most of it would have to stay in Metropolis for now, he would come back for what he wanted later.

The phone ringing distracted him from his packing. In a huff, he stomped over and picked up the handset. Turning it on, he growled his greeting. "This had better be good."

"Oh?" Martha's voice had an edge to it that immediately caused Clark to curb his anger. "Now, I know I never taught you never to answer the phone like that, young man. That city has done caused enough trouble without warping the manners I instilled in you."

Sighing, Clark pulled off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, mom, it's just, I'm really upset right now." Pulling two fingers through his hair, he fixed it before setting his glasses on the bedside table.

"Oh, Clark, tell me you didn't do anything rash. I knew something bad would happen when you didn't ask for seconds before rushing off this morning." Even over the phone, her voice carried a worrying tone that caused him to duck his head.

"I quit my job at the Planet, mom." He could hear her sudden intake in breath and knew what was coming before she spoke.

"Clark..." Stopping, Martha closed her eyes. "Was there no other way?"

"I couldn't work there any more, it didn't feel right." Walking out of his bedroom, he headed in to the living room. "The things Lois wrote in that article, to deliberately go on like that, it was beyond acceptable. And then, Perry, I mean Mr. White, he let her publish it and wasn't the least bit repentant about it! Probably too busy salivating over the money they were raking in over slandering my name! They're no better than Lex Luthor!"

"Clark, now you know that isn't true." She sounded practically scandalized.

"Well, it might as well be." Shifting the phone to his other ear, Clark plopped down on his sofa. It really was a nice apartment, he didn't want to leave it behind. "Mom, I just feel so violated. I mean, I've worked so hard to build up this reputation, to make people feel they can trust me. That's all gone now, they took away my good name. I'm no longer Superman, but that alien caught in a sex scandal."

"Honey, you're still you, no matter what anyone says."

"Yeah, well, I don't feel it. At least not right now, anyways." Clark let his head fall back against the back of his couch. Arm spread over the cushion, he flexed his fingers in the fabric. He had picked it up brand new, the first piece he ever bought himself for himself. "Mom, I gotta favor to ask you."

"Yes, Clark. Your old room is ready, it hasn't changed since this morning." Now, she was amused.

"Thanks, mom. I appreciate this. It will only be for a couple days, just until I can get a reasonable place in town." Stretching out further, Clark reveled in the feel of the couch. He never really took the time before, but now that he was, it was damned comfortable.

"Of course, hon. I'll tell your father. He's out picking up chickens from old Madam Gertrude Weinstock. She's finally decided to sell off her breeding stock and you know how your father's coveted them."

Smiling, Clark nodded, then realized she couldn't see him. "I remember. The Petite Town Cafe was the only place she would sell too."

"Yes, well, Jonathan has finally gotten his blasted chickens." Laughing, Martha ended with a wistful sigh. "Things have changed these past nine years, Clark. If you stay long enough to see it all, I'm not sure how much you will recognize."

"I've seen it all. It's nothing new to me." Blinking, he realized it had indeed been just a year shy of a decade since he had left home. "I just..." He cleared his throat, something seeming to make breathing hard. "With what happened today, it's made me realize what I've left behind. Mom, I'm ready to come home."

"All right." She was all warmth and caring over the phone by now. "Clark, one more thing. Have you spoken with your friend since this happened? You are a beloved figure, Clark, this could be dangerous for him. I've seen what happens when someone is implicated in a scandal."

Sitting up, Clark stared ahead wide eyed. "No, mom, I hadn't even thought about it. I mean, him."

"Well, you've got some free time, you might check in on him. See that he is all right."

"Okay, mom. I'll do that." Rising to his feet, Clark headed back to his bedroom. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, Clark. I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight." Turning off his phone, Clark put it back in the cradle. While he was thinking about it, he switched it over to no rings so that it wouldn't go on while he was away.

For a moment, he debated putting on the suit, but decided against it. The last thing he or Jimmy needed was to give a trigger happy photographer more ammo. Instead, he slipped on a dark wool jacket he'd had stuffed in the back of his closet since he moved in. On his way out, he didn't notice he forgot his glasses.