Dick stuck a toothpick onto a baby carrot, attaching it to another carrot; holding the two vegetables in his hand, he glanced at the broccoli and cauliflower on his plate, trying to figure out where he was going to attach them.

"Too bad you don't have any glue."

Dick stood straighter, and he smiled as he turned around. When he saw Linda, he raised an eyebrow, whistling softly, impressed. "Wow," he said. "You know, it's a shame you don't have red hair."

"Oh?" Linda asked, amused.

"Yeah, then you'd be smokin' hot," Dick answered, grinning; he sighed, pretending to look sympathetic. "Unfortunately, you're just gonna have to settle for beautiful."

"And you don't look too bad yourself," Linda replied, grinning, before the two hugged each other.

"How's it going?" Dick asked as they pulled away.

"Not too bad," Linda replied, shrugging slightly; she glanced at her friend uneasily. "Did you know about Oliver?"

Dick winced a little. "Please don't hate me," he said. "Bruce told me to keep it a secret."

"It's okay," Linda replied sincerely. "I don't like it too much…but I get it." She raised an eyebrow. "So, uh, Alfred told me you and Bruce would be here when I arrived, but I couldn't find either one of you."

"Yeah, Bruce and I were working on something," Dick said, dropping his voice, "but I can't say anything here—too many ears."

Linda nodded, understanding, and she nodded at Dick's food sculpture. "So, what are you designing?" she asked.

"Not sure," Dick replied, glancing at his masterpiece. "I was thinking a scale model of the Eiffel Tower, but I'm not sure I have enough toothpicks." He didn't hear a response, so he looked at Linda and saw her staring at something in the distance; he glanced over and slowly smiled as he leaned slightly toward her. "So, are you planning on saying something before or after the holidays?"

"Huh?" Linda asked, distracted.

"Like 'L.K. hearts J.O' in skywriting or something like that?" Dick continued.

"What are you talking about?" Linda asked, looking over in confusion.

"I got it," Dick replied. "You could have Clark holding a big, long sign that says 'Linda and Jimmy = Forever;' he could fly it around Metropolis for an entire day."

"Will you stop that?" Linda asked, her cheeks turning pink. "You know I haven't made my decision yet."

"Yeah right," Dick snorted. "As long as I've known the both of you, you two haven't been able to keep your eyes off each other," he glanced over at Jimmy as the photographer roved around, taking photos, "just like Jimmy's doing right now."

"Jimmy's taking pictures right now," Linda sweetly pointed out.

"Yeah, and most of them have been of you," Dick sweetly countered.

"No, they're not," Linda replied. "I've been watching him."

"Obviously not that well," Dick said, "because I have, and he has been sneaking shots of you for as long as we've been talking." He almost laughed at Linda's embarrassed expression and decided not to press the issue any further. "Anyway, why don't you show me your stuff?" He didn't wait for an answer as he took her hand and pulled her toward away from the bar.

"There's not much you haven't seen," Linda replied halfheartedly as Dick led her through the crowd.

"What about this one?" Dick asked as he stopped in front of a large canvas. It was a watercolor landscape of a field of sunflowers at sunset, with the Smallville water tower centered in the background. "This one's new."

"That's the one Ollie asked me to make," Linda explained. "Well, not this exactly, but I thought it'd be a nice representative of our town."

"It's too light."

Linda and Dick glanced over as Bruce—dressed in a sharp tuxedo—walked over, smiling. Linda raised an eyebrow; she knew Bruce had to act differently in public, but it was borderline creepy seeing Bruce behaving so…nicely.

"I think you should have gone with something a bit darker," Bruce continued.

"Well, don't worry, Bruce," Linda replied, smirking, "it's just a pretend sun; it won't burn your skin." Dick covered up a laugh by snorting into his hand; Bruce raised an eyebrow, looking amused, but Linda knew better than to think he actually found her joke funny.

"I think Bruce is just feeling left out, Linda," Clark said, smiling, as he and Oliver walked up to the group.

"Maybe you could do a watercolor in navy blue and black to make him feel more at home," Ollie suggested, "or maybe something that glows in the dark."

"Or maybe you can let the artist decide for herself what she wants to draw," Linda pointed out gently, smiling, "because right now I'm formulating an idea involving kittens in hues of red, blue, yellow, and green."

"That actually sounds cool," Dick spoke up. "You should do that; I would pay you to do that drawing—and you gotta add a navy blue or black cat—and you gotta put them all in tutus." The adults glanced at him, and Dick gave a sheepish grin before he grabbed Linda's hand and pulled her away to look at another painting.

"This is why I work alone," Oliver remarked, amused. He tilted his head as he stared at the painting. "She really does have a lot of potential, Clark."

"My thoughts exactly." The trio stiffened slightly as they recognized the voice. They turned and saw Lex approaching, smiling as he held a champagne flute.

"Lex," Clark said, trying not to sound surprised, "I didn't know you were invited."

"I wasn't," Lex replied as he glanced at Oliver, "but I'm sure it was just a clerical error, right, Oliver?"

"Yeah, of course," Oliver replied, "and I'm sure your arm candy couldn't find a good dress, either," his eyes narrowed slightly, "or did she just spring a leak again?"

Lex smiled tightly. "So, I hear you and Bruce are going to be doing more business in Smallville," he continued.

"Yeah," Oliver replied, "we're gonna start construction on the new plant after Thanksgiving, after we get rid of that eyesore—I mean your old plant—near Riley Field."

"Why are you here, Lex?" Bruce asked abruptly.

"I see we're past the small talk," Lex replied, a little amused before he took a sip of his drink. "Very well. As a friend of the Kent family, I'm simply here to make sure Linda's not being taken advantage of. I mean, if I didn't know Oliver's reputation," he glanced at Oliver, "then I'd wonder why he'd extend an invitation to a fifteen year old girl who—as you've already mentioned, Oliver—has a lot of potential."

"Lex," Clark spoke up as he tried to maintain a calm demeanor, "do you honestly think my parents and I would allow Linda to come here if we felt Oliver's intentions were less than honorable?"

"Of course not, Clark," Lex replied, "but I don't think Oliver's been completely honest with you about his intentions concerning your cousin."

Clark furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Oliver's been completely honest with my family," he said before he glanced at his friend. He saw the businessman shift ever so slightly while trying to maintain a calm demeanor; Clark just stared at him. "Oliver?"

Oliver pursed his lips slightly before sighing. "Look," he said, "before you jump to any conclusion, this has—"

"So, it's true?" Clark asked in disbelief.

"You don't even know what 'it' is, Clark," Oliver replied.

"Lex, Bruce, I don't mean to be rude," Clark said, never taking his eyes off Oliver, "but could please excuse Oliver and me? We need to talk."

"Of course," Lex replied before glancing at Oliver, trying not to smirk as he walked away; Bruce didn't budge from his spot.

"Bruce, I want to talk to Ollie alone," Clark said, his voice low and serious.

"I'm staying," Bruce replied, unwavering.

"No, you're not," Clark said, fixing the Gothamite with an expression that said 'don't push me, Bruce.' Bruce just stared right back at him, unfazed; Clark didn't want to waste any more time as he turned back to Oliver. "You have one chance: what are you hiding?"

Oliver glanced at Bruce. "This is why we should have told him sooner," he said.

Clark looked at Bruce in disbelief. "You, too?"

Bruce nodded unapologetically before taking a sip from his glass. "It was my idea," he simply said.

(End of Chapter 8)