Chapter 21

Coast City…

"I hope you're remembering to pack some mistletoe, sweetie."

Andrea makes a half-strangled noise. "Penny, you really need to get off this track," she warns her friend/neighbour.

"Do I?" the blond asks with faux-innocence.

"How many times do I need to say it? Clark and I are just friends," the brunette reiterates a point she has made many, many times before to Penny's insinuations.

"So does that mean I can take a shot at him?"

"No!" Andrea snaps too quickly which earns her a smug grin from the blond. She pauses from her packing for her and Mia's trip to Smallville for Christmas and sits herself down on her couch. Penny sits down next to her. "Even if I wanted something more, he's in love with someone else," she points out. "No to mention…I'm not certain he's forgiven me for keeping Mia a secret all these years."

"Those are problems to be sure," Penny concedes.

"Especially the other woman part."

"Well, you can choose to do what is morally right and respect the boundaries of that relationship or you can fight for what you want," the blond argues.

"I'm Catholic."

"And?"

"And…did I ever mention my Mamá's dead?"

"Maybe. Once," Penny thinks.

"It hurt, Penny and I had to lock my heart away just to cope. The only one I have ever opened it for is Mia for obvious reasons."

"She's utterly adorable?"

Andrea manages a smile. "She's a lot like Clark. Seeing them spend time together I got to see just how much of him she inherited."

"So, you're saying Clark is utterly adorable?" Penny puts a cheeky spin on it.

Andrea flashes her a sour look. "I'm saying I'm not sure my heart has healed enough."

"Well, that does explain the lack of dating since I've known you," Penny reflects on a new insight into her friend. "Honestly, sweetie, only you can know whether you are ready to open up to that again," she says, being serious. "Or you know if all you're after is an uncomplicated roll in the hay then all you need care about is your physical wants and needs," she says reverting back to being totally unserious.

"Ay Dios mio!" Andrea mutters which earns her another smug grin. "We have a child together, Penny. It can never be uncomplicated."

"Hmm. Maybe, yet here you are about to spend Christmas with him. I think on some level you want to spend time with him."

"Still doesn't change the other woman issue."

"Not a denial of my point…which is progress," Penny reflects since before all Andrea did was deny, deny, deny.

"Why are we friends again?" Andrea grumbles.

"Because I'm everything you're not. If we were gay we'd be perfect for each other."

Andrea buries her head in her hands and mutters once again, "Ay Dios mio!"

Metropolis…

"Got big plans for the Holidays, Clark?"

Clark looks up from his computer to aim a quizzical look at his partner. "Hmm? Sorry, what?"

Cat Grant grins, finding Clark's innocent obtuseness endearing. "Holidays. Big Plans," she says more simply.

"Oh, right. Not really," he sorta lies. He does have plans, whether they are big or not is a matter of opinion. Point is he has no desire to share them in detail with the blond woman sitting across from him. A woman who is still not subtle in the least in her advances towards him.

"Is your mother going to be in town?"

"No," Clark says sadly. "She's too busy trying to get the VRA repealed," he explains her absence.

Cat wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Why bother? It's a good thing," she argues, showing her continuing support for it.

"You know my mother's views differ from yours, Cat," Clark points out. As do his by the way.

"Uh huh," is all the blond says. "Got anyone special planned to drag under the mistletoe?" she changes the topic.

Clark stares at her. At the alluring smile and slightly waggling eyebrows. It's not that Cat isn't pretty. She is but she is so not his type. "Too busy. Have to work," is his reply.

"I think you're turning into a workaholic, Clark," Cat critiques.

"My Mom's in Washington. My Dad passed away and I'm single. Have nothing else to do," he once again sorta lies.

"Can I offer some advice?"

Clark sighs. "If you must," he says, finding he can't be rude enough just to say no.

"Lois isn't worth it."

Ok, that does it. His expression hardens and he grabs his jacket. "Excuse me Cat. Have to go follow up a lead," he says, getting out of here before he is just rude to her. As if Lois has anything to do with this. She made her choice. He's completely over it.

He's also completely lying to himself.

"Mister Clark!"

"Indoor voice!"

Clark smiles at the yelling of his name along with the now defeated sounding chastisement of the source of that voice. He bends down as the little black-haired girl runs into his arms. He picks her up as her flustered looking mother picks her way through the crowd towards him as he picked them up from the airport. "Flight ok?" he asks cordially.

Andrea blows some strands of hair out of her face. "I think Penny's been feeding her sugar behind my back again," she grumbles, hinting that Mia may not have entirely behaved on the flight.

Clark flashes the mother of his child a sympathetic look. "Try dealing with a hyperactive 24-year-old," he jokes in regard to the grown-up version of their daughter.

"I still think I've got the worse end of the stick," Andrea sticks to her guns.

"Don't say mean things about our d…" he stops himself before he can say it.

Andrea blinks. They still hadn't told Mia the truth…or more accurately she still hadn't made up her mind it was the right time to tell their daughter yet and Clark hadn't found the nerve or conviction to push the matter. The two now stand in an awkward silence.

"We, um, we should get going. Long drive," Clark breaks up the awkwardness.

"Yeah," Andrea agrees as the small family head for the exit.

Smallville…

"Hola Mamá," the adult version of her daughter greets Andrea. While Mia could never ever get the image of her mother's death out of her head, she had found it progressively easier to spend time to just talk to her mother. In other words, her father had been right when he insisted she should meet her mother. Not that she'll ever tell him that.

"Mia. You've been well?"

The time traveller gives her mother a queer look. "I haven't gotten sick since my Kryptonian genes kicked in."

"Well, that's lucky for some," Andrea grumbles. It wasn't like she was immune to sickness or anything before but ever since she lost her powers she's noticed she gets ill more frequently. "You're being careful, I hope, now that the VRA has passed," she expresses her real concern.

"They'll never take me alive," Mia jokes.

"That's not actually comforting," Andrea has to point out to her daughter.

"Yes, Mamá," Mia says being more serious now. "I'm being careful," she insists. After all she can't get caught until she's completed the task she travelled back through time for…or can she? The seed of an idea suddenly blossoms within Mia's mind but before it can get too far her father and 'mini-me', as he calls her younger self, appear, with him carrying the bags and her younger self chatting up a storm. Schrap. She does not remember being so…chatty. Is this another change her presence here has caused?

Later that night, after young Mia is off to bed, the 3 adults hang around the kitchen table, drinking eggnog.

"So, are there any special traditions I should know about?" Andrea inquires about.

Clark shrugs. "Not much…beyond the Star Wars Marathon."

Adult Mia audibly groans. "Ugh."

"I'm disowning you," Clark tells her for that. "A daughter of mine not liking Star Wars," he grumbles, which makes Andrea smile in amusement.

"Uh huh. I'm from the future. I've seen the sequels. They suuccckkk!" she draws it out as she justifies herself.

"They make sequels?" Andrea inquires.

"George Lucas sells it to Evil Incorporated aka Disney…and if you want my advise you will welcome your new Mouse-Eared Overlords when the day come," she says, smirking.

Andrea looks at Clark for help.

"Simpsons," he explains.

"Your doing?"

"Uh…maybe," he sorta takes responsibility.

Then a lightbulb goes off in Mia's head. "Hey, I just realised George hasn't sold it yet," she informs her parents. "I wonder if I can talk him out of it and prevent the coming planetary enslavement," she ponders aloud.

Andrea looks to Clark as if he can explain how her mind works but in this case he can't.

The next day, Christmas Eve, finds Andrea alone with her grown up daughter while Clark and young Mia are out in town for some last-minute shopping.

"So, Mia?"

"Si?"

"What's Clark really up to?"

"Qué?"

"Don't play dumb…or treat me as such," Andrea warns her daughter off.

"I would never do that," the younger Rojas insists.

"Uh huh," the older Rojas says sceptically. "Just to be clear I don't buy the 'I've forgotten something' excuse Clark gave when he left."

"You should. For someone with a photographic memory he's actually kinda terrible at remembering stuff. Plus, he's always late which is ridiculous," Mia gripes. "He's either the fastest…or maybe second fastest being on the planet."

"You're avoiding answering my question. God, you are so like him," Andrea complains, shaking her head.

"Actually, I think I'm more like you in this case."

"Explain."

"Papá mentions that…how did he put it? That you're not an easy person to get to know."

Andrea grows pensive.

"If you want an opinion, I do believe communication is an important part of a relationship."

Andrea gives her daughter a wary look. "Except Clark and I are not in a relationship."

"That can be easily fixed."

Andrea rolls her eyes. Her daughter has never been exactly subtle about trying to push her and Clark together. "And what exactly do you know of relationships, Mia? You've never spoke of any to me."

"And I won't be. Embarrassing enough first-time round."

"Embarrassing, huh?" Andrea queries, her voice now teasing.

"I should not have said that," Mia realises too late.

"No. You shouldn't have," Andrea laughs.

Mia mutters some expletives in Spanish.

"By the way, you're not off the hook."

"About?"

"Deja de ser inteligente, jovencita," the older woman warns her daughter.

"I don't actually know."

Andrea arches a sceptical eyebrow.

"I don't!" Mia insists. "All I know is whatever Papá is doing he's been planning it for awhile and he's kept me out the loop. Said it was a surprise."

"Should I be worried?"

"Probably."

"You need to work on your reassurances…or I need to teach you better…but if I make the decision now to do that shouldn't you just…I don't know, already be better…Gah! This time travel stuff makes my head hurt." Andrea complains.

"Yeah. It does that," Mia agrees.

Metropolis…

"Ok, Clark, I was fine with going along with this surprise because you said I'd like it but I draw the line at bringing my daughter to Suicide Slums," Andrea complains from the passenger side of the car he had rented out because his truck isn't big enough for 4 people.

"Even when you grew up here," Clark argues back.

"Especially because I grew up here," Andrea says. Living in Suicide Slums is assuredly the one part of her former life in Metropolis she does not miss.

"I have a good reason for this. I'm asking you to trust me," Clark requests of her.

Andrea looks at the grown-up version of her daughter as if asking 'what the hell is going on' but all Mia can do is shrug. She has no idea. Andrea gives a wave of her hand to say she's going along with this…for now.

"So, you really grew up here?" Adult Mia asks, her curiosity her overarching emotion. After all there is so much about her mother she doesn't know.

"Yes."

"Is it really as bad as they say?"

Andrea snorts. "Worse."

"But your mother clearly thought it was worth fighting for," Clark interjects.

"Mamá believed that there were good people here that needed someone to fight for them."

"And was she wrong?"

"You can't expect me to say anything negative about my Mamá," Andrea complains in a manner that says that question isn't fair. She can't say anything bad about her mother.

"I'm going to go with, that's a no."

"Take the smug look off your face, Clark," she warns him.

"And if I don't?" he challenges her…or some people might say he's flirting with her.

"I'll sic Penny on you."

"Oof," Adult Mia grimaces. "Trust me, you don't want that. Aunt…uh, I mean, I've heard that Andi's friend Penny has quite a talent for making people suffer," she says, correcting herself in front of her younger self. Wow, this is hard work.

"See?"

"Or she'll throw herself at you. Either's possible."

"Not helping," Andrea complains to her daughter.

"I hope not. I already get enough of that from a blond at work," Clark grumbles.

Andrea looks twice at him. "Aren't you dating someone?"

"Well, actually," Mia starts but is cut off by her father.

"We're here!" Clark announces too quickly and loudly while aiming a glare at his daughter vis the rear-view mirror.

While Andrea fetches young Mia out the car the adult version shanghais her father off to the side.

"What?" he asks her in a low voice.

"You still haven't told her," Adult Mia says in disbelief.

"It's never come up," Clark gives a very lame response.

Mia can only look at her father in complete bafflement. Why on Earth won't he just tell her mother that he and Lois broke up.

"And I'd appreciate if you didn't say anything. I'll tell her when I'm ready."

"Ok. I won't tell her," Adult Mia agrees quite readily which makes Clark suspicious. "Only because I want to see what happens when your lies blow up in your face," she says with great enthusiasm and anticipation.

Clark glares at her and gets a sweet, innocent, 'butter wouldn't melt in her mouth' smile in return.

"So where are we?" Adult Mia wonders looking around the rundown street they've stopped on.

Andrea frowns at she gazes at the wooden building which they directly parked in front of. "This was my local church. Mamá sat on the board of trustees."

"Yeah. I know," Clark says.

"You know?" Andrea queries.

"Reporter," is all her says back as an explanation. "Come on," he leads the other 3 as they head inside.

The simple experience of crossing the threshold is very profound for Andrea. She hasn't been here her mother's funeral. Therefore her last memory of this building is coloured by the overwhelming pain and grief she was feeling at that time. She takes a deep breath. "So, why are we here, Clark?" she asks the father of her child.

"Over there," Clark points at a spot on the wall and the group walk over.

There on the wall is a memorial plaque and the name on it Andrea ends up brushing her fingers over with utmost reverence.

Isabella Rojas.

"Mamá," the older brunette murmurs the name.

"I figured you probably hadn't seen it," Clark says in a soft voice.

"No," she confirms, as she sniffles to hold back her raw emotions. The fact the community seems to have remembered and honoured her mother does bring a watery smile to her face.

"I know it's not much but I hope you appreciate it."

Andrea turns round at the sound of that new and at the same time very familiar voice. "Father Mulcahy," she greets a rather short, wiry man with greying brown hair and small round glasses on his face.

"Andrea," the man greets her back. "You're looking well," he comments on her appearance.

"As do you," she says back.

"And who is this?" the priest asks, looking down to the young child at her mother's side.

"This is my daughter. Mia," Andrea replies before adding, "Well, actually, it is Mia Isabella," she gives both first names.

"Your mother would be honoured," Father Mulcahy says before speaking to the little girl. "Hello, Mia."

Young Mia hides herself behind her mother's legs.

"Forgive her. She's shy around strangers," Andrea explains.

"If only she hadn't changed," Clark murmurs a prayer under his breath which earns him a discreet kick in the shin from the grown-up version of his daughter who rolls her eyes and mutters 'twip' under her breath.

"I'm going to guess you've met Clark," Andrea deduces from a hunch about why they are here at all.

"Still quick I see," Father Mulcahy compliments her.

"Hello, Father," Clark greets him. "This is my cousin, Carol," he introduces adult Mia.

"Hola!" the time traveller says.

"So, Father Mulcahy, perhaps, you can tell me what is going on since I'm starting to smell a conspiracy?" Andrea asks, eyeing both the priest and her daughter's father suspiciously.

"Still seeing the world through a glass half-empty I see," Father Mulcahy reflects, sounding a tad disappointed in her.

"You sound like my mother," Andrea grumbles because her mother had expressed similar opinions to her many times.

"Your mother's wisdom and tenacity is something we all miss."

"Yeah," Andrea breathes. "But stop avoiding my question," she returns to that.

"Tell me, Andrea, what is it your mother and you normally did at this time of year?"

"We did work for her charity, Acrata, helping all those less fortunate."

"And while your mother was a very important person within Acrata, she was hardly the only person who helped run it."

"I don't understand."

"Acrata didn't die with your mother, Andi," Clark gently tries to make her understand. "Father Mulcahy and the other trustees have kept it running and I decided it would be a nice Christmas present to let you see that your mother's work, her legacy, continues."

"It does?" the brunette woman asks, her emotions threatening to overflow.

"Yes," the Catholic priest assures her. "But you don't need to take our word for it. Come. See. Help out like you used to."

"I would like that," Andrea says sincerely, genuinely wishing to see her mother's legacy.

It truly had been a long time since Andrea had spent her Christmas Eve helping out at the varying shelters and centres her mother had helped set up. She had almost forgotten how sad it was to see all the people that had fallen through the cracks of society…and she had almost forgotten how heart-warming it felt when one could make their lives just a tiny bit better.

She's certain her mother tried to make her see it but Andrea always was a stubborn child. Focussed as she argued back. It was only after her mother was taken from her she realised she had been too focussed on things other than her own mother.

But what has made her day beyond anything else is just to see her mother's work and legacy has survived. That people remember her and honour her by keeping the charity running and trying to do what her mother set out to do.

She got to meet many of the people who worked alongside her mother before for the first time in years. Andrea has to smile wryly. So many asked the same questions of her. Mostly where she had been. Andrea would distract them by throwing Mia their way and they would just start awing and cooing all over her baby girl because she was not ready to tell any of them the truth.

At the end of the day they return to the church and Andrea sits at one in one of the pews, contemplating…perhaps praying a little bit.

"Will you be sticking around for the Christmas service?"

Andrea looks up as Father Mulcahy sits down beside her.

"I'm…not sure. Mia needs to get to bed," the Latino woman says in reply.

Father Mulcahy looks for said little girl, who is half-zonked out on Clark's shoulder. "He's the father isn't he."

It's not a question.

"That obvious, huh?" Andrea says back, perhaps just too tired to try and deny it.

"It's the little things. The eyes. The cheeks. A lot of the personality I think."

"Too much of the personality," Andrea grumbles which gets a small laugh. She then sighs. "You're going to be disappointed in me."

"I doubt it."

"Clark and I…there was no relationship. I was grieving over Mamá. He was grieving over his father."

"Ah. I see," the priest says, following where this is heading.

"And then I left. I didn't know. Not until the morning sickness started."

"Why did you leave?"

Andrea swallows hard. She is so not ready for that confession so she tells a half-truth instead. "It was too hard. Too many memories. Too much pain. I guess I don't grieve well."

"Everyone grieves differently. There is no right or wrong."

"Mia made it better. It was all…brighter after she was born. She helped me heal. That's why she's my little Angel."

"And yet she doesn't call him Papá," he had noticed.

"Oh God," she mumbles as her face falls into her hands.

"Andrea," Father Mulcahy, gently pushes.

"I didn't tell him," she says, now with deep regret over the fact she didn't. "He only found out a few months ago and then I didn't know how to tell Mia so we…I've been putting it off."

"The young woman I remember didn't run away from something hard. Quite the opposite actually. I think you relished overcoming challenges."

"I'm not who I was, Father. That woman died in that alley when the knife was shoved into her heart and her last image of her mother was having her brains blown out."

"Andrea," he says a little sternly.

"Sorry. That was too crude. I'm tired," she tries to excuse herself.

"I don't believe that woman is dead. Changed perhaps but I have to ask. Your reluctance to tell the truth, does it have anything to do with your father?"

Andrea stiffens. "What?" she asks, stunned as if that idea never entered her mind for even a second.

"I was there, Andrea when he left. I saw what it did to you and Bella."

"You think I'm transferring my anger over my Papá on to Clark?"

"I never said that. You did."

Andrea blinks. "I…uh…no. I wouldn't. Clark's nothing like him. Clark's thoughtful and kind and takes his responsibilities seriously. He can actually make me laugh."

"You like him."

"Not you too," Andrea complains.

Father Mulcahy places a hand on the woman's shoulder. "I know I'm skimming over topics here. I would like to be able to spend time with you and learn what you've been up to all these years."

"There's not as much to tell as you might think. I've been living a simple life. Just me and Mia."

"Not any longer. You are more than old enough to make your own decisions in regards to your personal relationships but in regards to Mia and Clark. I know you're angry over your father leaving but I also know that no matter how much you might deny it his departure left a hole in your life. Don't let Mia suffer like that when you can avoid it." The priest rises to his feet. "Sadly I have to get ready for the service tonight but I hope to see you again. Your mother was a trusted confident and a good friend. Perhaps you can let me be the same for you."

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

"And I'll hold you to that."

Author's Note: Sorry this update has taken so long. Let me explain. First off was busy at work. Then I was sick. Then I was trying to write the next episode Patriot but I hated the first draft and had to go back and rewrite it. Then I was busy at work again. Then I realised I didn't want to do Patriot next but a little Christmas story, so I went off to do that. Then there's the new puppy taking up my attention what with me trying to stop her killing herself by chewing on power cables not to mention anything else she can find. Thanks to everyone who has written reviews.