Author's Note: Again, if you're interested in this fic, please let me know because I'm just taking a shot in the dark here.

2.

"I hate these things."

Lionel smiled. It amused him to watch her schmooze with various political officials, exuding her effortless charm and wit, and then come back and complain to him as if she was completely and utterly out of her element. He knew different. Martha Kent was a natural.

"You'd never know it," Lionel replied, as he slowly whirled her around the dance floor in the ballroom at the Governor's mansion. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were born to it."

Martha rolled her eyes and brushed a strand of auburn hair from her forehead. "At least I have you to scare off all those lecherous politcos out there."

Lionel beamed, doing everything in his power to keep his hand from involuntarily sliding his hand too far down her back, and took the compliment, though he was silently wondering if that was all she thought of him as – a bodyguard.

Startling him from his reverie, they both stopped and turned when they heard Lois Lane clear her throat awkwardly. "Sorry to interrupt. Perry White's here. He's waiting in the study."

Lionel grimaced and pulled away from her. "Perry White?"

Martha regarded him nervously, unsure of how to elaborate, and glanced at Lois for help. She flashed her boss an awkward grin. "Don't look at me."

Martha sighed. "I'm sorry, Lionel, I have to go. We'll talk later, okay?"

He shrugged, still a bit taken aback by the sudden return of Perry White into his life and, worse, into Martha's. He watched her walk out of the ballroom, her long, dark red dress flowing weightlessly behind her.

--

He stood when she entered the room, causing the legal pad and pen that had rested upon his lap to fall to the ground. She hovered in the doorway, stifling her laughter as he bent down to clean up his mess, occasionally glancing up at to look at her. Though her form-fitting, revealing yet tasteful red dress was striking, it was the overwhelming shock of finally being in the same room with her, for the first time in nearly five years, that shook him. She had vaguely lingered in his mind since his very first visit to Smallville, but he had never had the time or inclination to think about her for very long, as their personal situations at the time had been such that there hadn't been hope. However, since she had gone to Washington, her frequent appearances on CNN and C-SPAN had intrigued him and thus he had started to follow her career avidly.

He was never sure exactly what it was about her that had grabbed a hold of his attention, but he couldn't help but wonder how often people took the time to actually get to know Martha Kent. She had spent over twenty years secluded on that farm in the middle of nowhere, and with very little transition, suddenly she had a hand in running the country, thrust into the public eye. Neither of those situations had likely left her with very much opportunity to be known and understood by people outside of her family, her inner circle. Here, he saw an opportunity to do just that.

Perry set his notepad and pen down on the sidetable next to the chair and approached her, holding out his hand. "Good evening, Senator."

She let him shake her hand, though he could tell she was a bit reluctant. "Mr. White."

"Perry. Please." He stepped back and offered her the seat across from his. She nodded cordially and walked over to the chair, smoothing out her dress before sitting down. He smiled nervously, then sat across from her. "I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me."

"I have to admit," Martha began, drawing her words out so slowly that Perry felt as if she was purposely taunting him. "I was surprised to hear from you. My relationship with The Daily Planet over the years has been friendly due mostly to Chloe Sullivan. I'm surprised they would replace her."

Perry tensed up a little, sensing her obvious animosity towards him. "Well. I wouldn't be able to answer that. You'd have to talk to the guys upstairs."

Martha nodded curtly. "I might."

He reached for his legal pad and pen, placing them back in his lap as he took a moment to consider the direction of the conversation. "Look, Senator, I can understand your hesitance. Last time you saw me I was glued to a bottle of Jack Daniels and throwing myself off of bridges on the off chance your son might save me. You've got no reason to trust me and you've certainly got no reason to like me. But for what it's worth, I'm not the same guy I was five years ago. Not entirely, anyway."

Perry paused, studying her expression with intent interest. It took a few seconds, but soon a shy smile spread across her face and he noticed she seemed to relax a bit. "Okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

Martha nodded slowly. "I'm going to default to my husband's practiced mantra. I prefer to believe in people." At this, she smiled again, a fragile, private smile that he knew instinctively was not meant for him but for the one she had lost. Suddenly, he began to feel for her. Suddenly, she was a person. Not a public figure or a woman whose son he had harassed for three days five years ago. She was Martha Clark Kent, and she had been hurt.

"Well," Perry said, with an apprehensive smile, trying to conceal the deep compassion she had made him feel. "That's a first for people in this city."

This seemed to soften her a little. "I moved away from Metropolis for many reasons. That is one of them."

Picking up his pen and positioning it above the legal pad, Perry looked up at her expectantly. "What about the others?"

"Love, love, rebellion, and love."

Perry grinned. "Lot of variety." Martha chuckled at this. "What will the voters say?"

"Well, I can think of no better reason to leave your home than love, so I would hope they'd be impressed," she replied. "Although, if my father were still alive, I doubt he'd agree."

"Not a big believer, eh?" Perry questioned.

"In Jonathan? No." She shook her head sadly. "My father never warmed to the idea of me moving to Smallville, and certainly not for love."

Martha glanced up at him, to find him staring at her with an awed fascination. She blushed self-deprecatingly and looked back down at her lap. He shook himself out of it and began scribbling on the legal pad in an effort to refocus his thoughts on professional matters.

"You'll have to excuse me," Perry said, shaking his head in disbelief at his own lack of composure. "It's not every day I interview a U.S. Senator at the Governor's mansion."

Martha flashed him a skeptical half-smile as she looked at him squarely, trying to discern his motives. "Yes, you have," she replied, with assurance. "You're a Pulitzer-prize nominated journalist, you've been at this for over twenty years. You're no stranger to the Governor's mansion and you're most definitely no stranger to U.S. Senators."

His eyes on her, Perry's face broke into an amused, impressed grin. He put his pen down. "You're right. You want the truth?"

"Always."

He leaned forward intently. "It's you." He felt a surge of delight when her eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know what it is, but here you are, and suddenly Pulitzer-prize nominated Perry White is nowhere to be found. All that's left is the less self-assured Perry White, stripped of all ambition and journalistic edge, at the mercy of a woman he's met only once before. And he has no idea what the hell to do about it."

Martha's eyes widened as she leaned back in her chair, thoroughly taken aback. It had been years since anyone had been so forward with her. "Well," she breathed.

"Yes." Perry nodded, not at all as embarassed as he reckoned he should have been. "Well."

She tilted her head a bit coyly and scratched her head with slight confusion. "You sure know how to conduct an interview, Mr. White."

Taken by an unexpected injection of boldness, Perry discarded his pen and notepad, placing them on the sidetable again. "Oh, to hell with it. Sullivan can have the damn thing." He stood then, holding his hand out to her. "Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?"

Martha couldn't help but smile. She was thoroughly delighted by this man's audacity, his ease. She couldn't deny it was thrilling. "I'd love to," she said, to her own surprise, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up.

She followed him out of the study, and as they passed Lois standing outside the room, Martha flashed her a nervous grin, and asked her to tell Lionel she would call him tomorrow. Completely flustered and unsure of what the appropriate reaction would be, Lois merely nodded. As Martha disappeared from view with Perry White, Lois impulsively grabbed her cell phone and began frantically texting a message.

"Chlo – you sure as hell weren't kidding about Perry White."

TBC.