New Updates are revised and these chapters that have nothing to do with the 12 previous chapters I had up before. I'd advise reading those ones so you're not confused. This will essentially be a completely different story.

3 Months Later.

My mom had set me up on a date with one of her friends sons. I had objected to it, but she had insisted that I go out with him because he's a Detective and she wanted grand children and a stable income for when I was taken car of the three kids I didn't have. His name was Brandon Smith and he had picked me up in a BMW. When he had arrived on my doorstep with his gorgeous face and slicked back hair and sleek car I was expecting a great night at an expensive restaurant. Maybe even some wine, but he had parked at some sleazy hotel with an old Italian sausage store across the street. He had claimed it had the best sausage sandwiches in town.

I decided to go along with it hoping it would be one of those sleeper dates that started off rocky, but picked up. Only the sandwiches were horrid and my date wasn't really a date. We had parked on this side of town for him to try to catch some big time defense lawyer in the middle of a money exchange to pay off dealers to kill the sole witness in a huge murder trial- that was going to send said defense lawyers famous client to jail. The lawyers client was some big shot MMA fighter who had his balls in a vice grip Brandon had told me.

Brandon was very attractive, but too centered around his job. I wanted it to work out because I bet if he was this passionate about his work he'd be passionate about other things like bedroom things. I seriously hadn't had a lot sexual encounters in awhile. And I had wanted this date to work so I could force myself to go on a second date with this guy so I can say I don't have sex on the first date, but he left me in the car after calling in back up, to arrest the lawyer and his friends. And I realized I was being idiotic in my reasoning for sticking around. I tossed the sandwich, left the car and headed down the street past the blaring sirens of police cars.

So here I am walking to the bus stop to go home.

I tucked my thick white bulky knit sweater around me as a gust of wind crashed into my small body. I cursed myself silently for not wearing my navy blue dress pants-thinking it was going to be a nicer night- I opted for a high neck short sleeved lace shirt that I tucked into a navy blue pleated skirt that hit just above my knee. My feet were screaming in my favorite pair of black Mary Jane's, but I gritted my teeth and fixed my knit hat and the wool scarf I had tied around my neck at the last minute. And I got dress up for this lousy date.

The bus roared up to the curb and I stepped in happy to be going home.

"Mom, you don't need that much squash," I complained as my mother piled two more squashes into the basket. We were at the Farmers Market in Smallville she always brought me along every year since I was twelve when we lived in the city, but now that it was practically down the road from her home she was too excited. My mother just moved into a nice house with half an acre of land in Smallville. After my father had died of pancreatic cancer last year she couldn't take living in their big house anymore. So she moved out here and had me come down to go to every other farmers market they had ever other month. With my job picking up and more and more assignments coming my way I'd have to decline the next few visits. It was getting way too expensive to drive down here a weekend out of each month anyways.

"Yes, I do. They're reasonably priced and I read that they help fight cancer, plus I want to make more of that soup you liked," She quipped placing one more into my basket.

My mother was average height with dark brown hair. She gave up meat after I was born and has been a vegetarian for over twenty years. I was always her guinea pig for new recipes and even though I hated vegetarian anything I loved the Butternut Squash soup she had made a few years back. Now, she never had me over without feeding me the soup and sending me off back to the big city with a humungous tin of it. She had a weird obsession with staying healthy and eating right. Probably because my father died of cancer and she blamed it on not taking care of your body and not on the fact that he carried the cancer gene and it was triggered.

"How was the date with the detective?" She asked finally pulling away from the vegetable stand. She linked her arm with mine after I switched the basket to my other hand.

"Great, if you like being taken to a stake out and being fed horrible sausage sandwiches from a restaurant that looked condemned, then by all means he gets best date ever award," I replied dryly.

"Don't be silly, Annie,"

"I'm not. That's what happened. He even left me in the car to arrest them! So I left and went home. The date was horrible, mom,"

"I'm sorry- I had thought he'd be perfect for you,"

"Because he was a detective?" I asked.

"Well, yeah! He's a detective you're a big city reporter. You were born to date him," She chimed as we headed to the car.

"That's such a clichéd way of looking at it, mom. How about you don't set me up on dates anymore?" I stated tossing the basket of squash into the back seat of her truck.

"You're not getting any younger, Annie,"

"Just drive, please. I'm not in the mood for your 'eggs-are-going-to-shrivel-up in-your dried-out-fallopian-tubes' rant right now," I explained looking over at her.

"I don't give that speech often,"

"Just about every time I see you," I scoffed.

"You don't see me very often," she countered.

"Now you know why,"

"Ouch, OK. I deserved that,"

When we arrived at her house her neighbor was standing out front. She was an older woman maybe around my mom's age, in her early fifties; she had shoulder length brown hair and a very pretty smile. I think my mom said her name was Martha.

"Hey, Martha. Come on in," My mother greeted.

"Carla, I see you got more squash," Martha said excitedly as she followed us into the house, "Making your soup soon, eh?"

I went back to the kitchen to let the older women converse. My cell phone chirped in my back pocket and I glanced at the screen briefly before doing a double take.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Ms. Westmore, it's Perry,"

"Yeah, I know I saw that on the caller ID. What can I help you with?" I asked as I moved about the kitchen putting away the vegetables and other knick knacks my mother had gotten. She had a salt and pepper shaker that looked like pigs.

"Well, Lois is under the weather with really bad seasonable allergies and she can't conduct her interview," He told me. I could hear Lois in the back ground complaining. Her voice sounded deep and raspy. Today was my day off and I wasn't surprised Lois was still at the office on a Sunday morning because she loved her overtime. I was trying to contain my excitement about actually doing real reporter things. I was pacing back and forth in front of the opened fridge. The goat milk I had meant to sit on the shelf was still clenched in my hand.

"I can hear her she does sound pretty bad. When is the interview?"

"Next week on Wednesday,"

I heard Lois exclaim that she'll be better by then, but Perry retorted that she had a sinus infection and that you could barely understand her.

"Sorry about that she's a bit dramatic. You know Lois," he laughed dryly, "When you come in tomorrow, I'll have Lois fill you in and give you her files on him,"

"Him? Who exactly am I interviewing, Mr. Perry?" I asked suddenly scared I was going to be interviewing a mob boss or some murderer on death row. What he said next was not who I was expecting at all.

"You'll be interviewing the Man of Steel, himself," He responded.

"Superman?" I gasped. The milk I was holding slipped from my grasp and splattered to the floor its contents splashing at my bare legs," Shit! Sorry, Mr. Perry. I dropped goat milk. I'd love to interview him! Thank you!"

"It's alright, Ms. Westmore, I understand the excitement. I know you're still settling into not being the errand girl anymore, but I have confidence that you'll do great. Come in early tomorrow. We have a lot to discuss."

"Thank you so much! I won't disappoint!" I said happily.

The minute I set my phone on the counter an excited squeal erupted from me and I danced around the kitchen completely forgetting the milk on the floor. I'll just give my mom money to buy more. Right now I had bigger things to worry about.

I was interviewing Superman.