Two updates in a month! And I'm trying to let the plot build up, so bear with me.
[][][]
Peyton situated her suitcase in the corner of the small room and explored the s pace as she stalled going downstairs. Just for a minute.
There was a certain level of care to the space that differed from the mansion. This was a family home. Everything, from the quilt and the bed frame, the dresser with knickknacks and a selection of books, had been picked purely based on love. On comfort. Their possessions appeared caringly used. Like they lived.
It wasn't that the mansion didn't have a style. Obviously it did. But parts of it looked more like a museum than a home.
She decided to get new throw pillows for the couches and a table runner for the dining room. Something with color. And pictures. She and Lex needed to hang up some personal photos.
Peyton resolved not to put any of her packed clothes away for the time being. With any luck, they would find her attacker sooner rather than later and she wouldn't have to intrude on the Kents for long. Their voices drifted up to her and she centered herself before forcing herself down the stairs; she didn't want to appear rude so quickly after they welcomed her in.
Martha and Jonathan stood in one corner of the kitchen talking in hushed tones and Clark cleared his throat right when Peyton entered the room. Martha smiled at her and Jonathan winced at the sight of her neck.
"Did you get everything put away alright? I'm sorry the room is a bit small."
"Absolutely not," Peyton protested. "The room is perfect. Is the quilt homemade? It's beautiful."
Martha's smile grew.
"Jonathan's mother made it."
Peyton looked to Jonathan and stopped herself from pulling her shirt collar up over neck as his eyes flickered away again.
"Your mother is an incredible quilter."
Jonathan swallowed and nodded before he made himself look back at her. In the eyes.
"She was," he agreed. "Thank you."
"You want some tea?" Clark asked as he walked over and opened a cupboard. Peyton caught a glimpse of spices and bottles and tea boxes. "Mom says honey is good for sore throats."
Peyton moved over to a chair and hovered a moment, uncertain, before she sat down.
"I still sound rough, huh?"
"Well," said Clark, "you did get… you know… almost strangled."
"I think Clark means if you're in pain, let us know," said Martha. "We have medication as well."
Peyton smiled.
"Tea with honey sounds great."
Clark grinned and filled their kettle with water while Martha and Jonathan watched their son in amusement. Having never been nearly strangled before, Peyton didn't even know if honey really fixed her kind of sore throat, but it was a sweet gesture and she didn't mind tea.
"So," Jonathan crossed his arms as he leaned back against the counter and raised a brow, "do the Luthors not have enough cameras in that giant mansion of theirs to figure out what monster did this?"
Martha shot a glare at her husband and Peyton pressed her lips together as she managed her facial expression. He at least referred to the attacker as a monster instead of Lex.
"I'm a Luthor now too," she said just to make the point, "so I guess it's on me as well. But even people like us are susceptible to things like security camera blind spots."
To his credit, Jonathan's expression flickered in shame and he tensed as he pursed his lips.
"That's not- I didn't mean it like that," he defended. "You'd just think they'd have a bit more security given how many enemies they make."
"Jonathan," Martha scolded. "That's uncalled for."
"I think it's actually personally against me," Peyton said with a sharp, sarcastic grin. "They did spray paint 'leave' all over my room, after all." She swallowed and absently rubbed at the base of her neck. "Can I be frank with you, Mr. Kent?"
He tipped his chin up slightly and pressed his lips together in a constrained smile of his own.
"I prefer it."
"I can't make you like Lex. That isn't even my goal or my probably wouldn't believe me if I told you that since we arrived here, he's done nothing but defy his father to try and keep that plant running and profitable. Lex isn't perfect, of course, but unlike his father he does care; and he learns from his mistakes. And he does respect you. You're free to distrust him and dislike him all you want. But," she added gently, "he is my husband."
She looked him boldly in the eyes and Jonathan stared back. Her throat throbbed slightly from all her talking, but Peyton couldn't help herself. Maybe she liked Lex, cared about him, but she didn't have to be in love with him to know this was just something a wife ought to do.
Her message rang out clearly.
Don't bad-mouth him in front of me.
Something flashed through his eyes, like a recognition of sorts and a begrudging respect, and he tipped his head down ever so slightly.
"My apologies," he said simply.
The kettle whistled shrilly.
Clark rushed to pour her a mug and Martha and Jonathan exchanged another look that only they understood as Peyton pressed her tea bag to the bottom of her mug with a spoon.
"Lionel, however, is fair game," she said slyly into the silence. A strange sort of olive branch. "With all due respect, I can't stand him."
Jonathan was the first to laugh.
[]
She didn't sleep well that night. The bed was fine, but Peyton couldn't stop worrying about everyone in the mansion, Lex, still being there while some invisible being lurked around waiting to attack. And the bed really was fine, but the room was different. It wasn't her room. Her house. It wasn't the new normal routine and surroundings that she had surrounded herself with to keep herself grounded.
When the rising dawn started to creep in through the bedroom window, Peyton gave up and sat on the edge of the bed as she rubbed her eyes. Her thoughts felt sluggish and her body ached in places; her hip and ribs, where she'd knocked into the decorative pillar, and under her nails where they'd pulled away from the skin.
Someone tried to kill her. Someone tried to kill her and she didn't even know why.
The sun inched higher and she reached for her phone. She fiddled with it a few minutes, debating how silly she'd look given the time, but ultimately sent a text to Lex checking in on him and everyone else. He likely wouldn't be up quite yet, but he'd see it soon.
Someone walked down the hall and headed down the stairs. Peyton looked towards the bedroom door and gently touched her neck as she lost herself in thought.
She hoped that she hadn't been too rude in her address of Jonathan, or come on too strongly; she didn't want her very first impression on her own to be negative. But he had been confrontational to her first, and Peyton couldn't just let it go. She could still salvage their non-existent relationship though. It wasn't so bad that she couldn't prove that she was more than just a spoiled rich girl.
She loitered in her room a while longer, to allow them their morning space, before she piled her hair up into a messy bun, pulled on a pair of jeans, and threw on her most worn looking shirt. (Which still didn't look particularly worn.) The house was quiet as she padded down the stairs into the kitchen. Martha was awake and making a pot of coffee; she turned with a smile when Peyton knocked on the wall to let her know she was there.
"Oh, good morning," Martha said. "I have coffee started, hopefully we didn't wake you!"
"No," Peyton reassured. "I woke up early on my own. I thought I could help with chores while I'm here."
Martha's expression puckered in a matronly disapproval.
"You're our guest and you're still recovering; we're not going to let you do any hard labor."
"I don't want to be abusing your hospitality."
Martha squinted, not amused, and took a mug from the cabinet pointedly.
"Do you want a cup?"
Peyton rolled her eyes in return but smiled.
"Yes please."
She'd just taken her first sip of coffee when the back door in the kitchen opened and Clark strolled in. He grinned and wished them good morning as he made a bee-line for the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice to take a drink straight from it. Martha let out a gasp and snapped him with a dish towel.
"Clark Joseph Kent! What have I said about drinking from the carton! And we have a guest."
"Sorry, mom," Clark said. But his mischievous expression let Peyton know he was not sorry at all. "I forgot."
"I promise, the rest of our groceries aren't contaminated like that," Martha assured.
Peyton laughed and took another sip of coffee.
"It's fine," she said with humor. "I had two-"
The words halted on the tip of her tongue as she realized what she almost said. In an attempt to hide her mistake, she smiled wider and waved her hand flippantly.
"I had two friends that did the exact same thing."
Clark and Martha glanced at each other and then smiled back at her.
"One of those friends wasn't Lex?" Clark asked.
Peyton spun her mug on the table surface as she gave the question mock serious thought. With a huff, she put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.
"You know, I don't think I've ever caught him doing that. But it seems like something he'd try to do when no one was looking."
Clark grinned in amusement and Martha rolled her eyes again.
"It doesn't matter where they come from, men are all the same."
His mom passed him a plate with a full breakfast spread, and Peyton wondered how long she'd been awake.
"You better hurry up or else you'll miss the bus again," Martha scolded.
"I can finish up any chores left to do," Peyton offered.
Clark was able to fit half a waffle in his mouth in one bite. Martha smacked him with the towel again. He finally managed to chew and swallow it.
"It's fine. They're all done."
Peyton frowned and slumped in her seat.
"How early did you get up? Sheesh."
"A few minutes ago," Clark said with a sly grin.
Peyton rolled her eyes at his sass and Martha frowned pointedly.
"Just eat," she said.
[]
In lieu of doing farm chores, which Peyton had never attempted in her life anyway, she helped Martha clean up the kitchen and put away the dishes. Martha made polite small talk as they worked side-by-side. She tried to ask Peyton about her family and childhood, all things Peyton wasn't as inclined to discuss. But it'd be weird to be too cagey about it. It would make it seem like she had some dark secret to hide. She didn't want to come across as strange, even if she was. Peyton tried to stick to the things she knew or that wouldn't openly contradict anything.
"I grew up in Metropolis as well," Martha told her. "I only moved out to Smallville after Jonathan and I got married."
"That had to have been an adjustment."
Martha handed her another dish and shot her a small smile.
"Probably similar to the adjustment you're experiencing. I know how difficult it can be, coming into a small town where everyone already knows each other. Especially given… certain familial circumstances."
Peyton shrugged lightly as she dried the plate and stacked it on top of the others.
"I think that I adapted more easily," she said carefully. "Lex probably misses Metropolis more than I do. But, there's been more than enough to keep us occupied since we arrived."
Martha frowned slightly at the statement and wiped her hands on a dish towel. Her gaze flickered out the kitchen window momentarily and her gaze followed the road out towards town.
"It is a bit strange." She seemed to be carefully picking her words. "Smallville is usually a quiet place to live. But perhaps it's a case of things happening in threes."
"Then we should be set after this," Peyton replied with a grin. "It feels like in the last few years I've gotten more than my share of threes."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Oh, no, it's fine. I didn't mean it to be- I was just joking."
Martha placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"You have gone through quite a bit of change since moving here. I know that's difficult enough not even considering whatever you've gone through before."
Peyton smiled gratefully as she folded the dish towel and sat it back on the counter.
The kitchen door opened and Jonathan walked in; he took off dirty working gloves and ran his hand through his hair before giving his wife a smile.
"I still don't know how you get more beautiful every day," he said, his grin growing.
Martha rolled her eyes but still leaned against him to give him a kiss when he approached. Peyton looked away politely and occupied herself with pouring herself another cup of coffee. It was a softer side of Jonathan, not that it necessarily surprised her. He was a family man, even if he was also a man that didn't change his opinions easily.
"Good morning," Peyton murmured from over her cup.
Jonathan looked her over and nodded in return. His gaze was slightly less grim than the previous day, but Peyton didn't presume that meant he'd grown any fonder of her in less than twenty-four hours.
"Morning," he said. He cleared his throat. "Are you- ah- feeling any better?"
"A bit. Still a little sore, but better."
He nodded again.
"Good; good."
Outside, chickens clucked and a cow mooed. Peyton glanced out the kitchen window at the fields and admired the view. It looked like there was a small wood at the edge of their property, and it wrapped around the acreage creating a scene from a postcard. Even the flowers in the yard were bright and cheerful and varied. It reminded her of the roses at home. She needed to call Lex before too long and check and see if he was okay.
"Well," Jonathan said. He gave his wife another kiss on top of her head and then reached for a cabinet. "I only came in here for a quick break, but I need to get the back field prepared for harvest before the day is over."
He poured himself a glass of water and nearly downed the entire thing in one go. Peyton set down her mug.
"Do you need any help? I'm sure I'm no Clark Kent, but I can try if you need someone to assist while he's at school."
Jonathan set down his glass and used his jacket sleeve to wipe his face as he studied her, as if trying to figure out if she was serious or not.
"You were almost killed the other day. I hardly think Lex Luthor would appreciate it if I put his wife to work immediately after that."
His tone was sardonic and Peyton lifted her chin in response.
"My neck was injured, not my arms or legs. And I don't want to be a freeloader; I'm not opposed to some hard labor, Mr. Kent. If Lex has a problem with that, he can take it up with me."
Martha's lips twisted in disapproval but Jonathan tipped his head back and eyed her again.
"Alright," he said. "How 'bout this, you can help me set up the sprinklers. They need to be rotated before the heat of the day."
"I can do that." Peyton beamed even as Martha pointed a stern warning finger at her.
"Just don't push it," Martha admonished. "If you get tired, you stop. You're still our guest."
"If I get tired," Peyton continued with a sly smile, "can I get a ride back on the tractor?"
Jonathan grabbed his working gloves and headed for the kitchen door.
"It's a one-seater," he deadpanned. "You can catch a ride in the trailer."
[]
Rotating the sprinklers wasn't the hardest labor on the farm, and Peyton suspected that's why Jonathan allowed her to help with it. He let her ride in the trailer amongst some supplies on the way out and she held onto the side to keep her balance as they drove over bumpy soil out to the fields.
Jonathan was short and precise with his instructions on how to move the sprinklers. It surprisingly didn't come off rude, but efficient, rather. Like he'd figured out the best way to instruct without wasting time or words.
Peyton managed to follow his instructions well enough and disconnected a sprinkler then wrangled it into the tractor trailer to move it to another corner of the cornfield. The work did make her fingers hurt a little, and she was a little sore, but she'd actually die before she admitted it. Her phone buzzed and Peyton ripped off a work glove to check the text. Lex was still alive and well. He asked what she was up to. Peyton told him, "when in Rome" and let him decide what that might mean. She wouldn't lie to him about working, it wasn't a big deal, but she didn't have to tell him right away.
She wasn't that hurt.
She was fine.
Jonathan directed her to another section of the field to fetch a sprinkler and Peyton shimmied through stalks of corn to get to it. They had a sort of irrigation system where the sprinklers could connect at certain points, but she didn't know enough about farming to fully understand it. Peyton grabbed the connecting hose and twisted it to start de-threading the connector. The metal stuck the first few tugs and it pulled at the skin on her fingers even through the gloves, reminding her of why her nails were currently sensitive.
She was alive. She wasn't that hurt.
She was fine.
Peyton yanked the sprinkler from the ground and shoved it in the trailer. Part of it smacked against her hip and sent a jolt of pain through her leg. Her breathing hitched and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Jonathan already finished collecting his fourth sprinkler and hopped up onto the tractor to move further on.
"You holding up okay?" he asked as she walked alongside the tractor.
Peyton forced a smile and gave him a thumbs up.
Her neck didn't even hurt that badly. Or at least, it didn't hurt quite as badly as the previous day. There were bigger concerns to worry about. She focused on walking. On putting one foot in front of the other while the ground tried to tilt.She. Was. Fine.
"Are you sure you're doing alright?" Jonathan stopped the tractor and peered down at her from his seat. "You look a little pale. Maybe you should head back to the house."
She couldn't do this. Not right now. Not in front of Jonathan. He probably still thought lowly of her and Lex; she didn't need to prove she was as incapable as he assumed.
Peyton staggered to a stop and supported herself against the edge of the trailer.
"I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Kent. I- I-"
Her throat felt like it was closing up again and Peyton sank down to her knees in the dirt. Jonathan's eyes widened in alarm and he jumped off the tractor to rush beside her. Peyton fought to try and keep her breathing even as her eyes heated. His hand pressed against her shoulder and the dams broke loose.
Peyton didn't cry in front of people. That's not what she did. It was fine when other people did it. It was good and she would want to help. But when she did it, it was too much. Like now. She was supposed to be helping, instead she was being a distraction and a hindrance.
A sob left her before she could shove it back down her lungs, and tears flowed freely against her wishes.
"What's going on?" Jonathan attempted to question. "Are you hurt?"
She wasn't hurt that badly. She was fine.
But what came out was a garbled,
"Someone tried to kill me."
Jonathan froze next to her. Peyton wanted to stop but she couldn't. It was like her body chose to ignore her brain's commands.
"Someone tried to kill me and I couldn't see where they were. They were choking me and I couldn't even- I couldn't even-"
It was so hard to breathe. Peyton hunched over further and clenched her eyes shut as she fought back hysteria.
It was irrational. She was fine.
"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I'm sorry-"
Jonathan sighed and crouched down next to her as he hesitatingly patted her back.
"Hey, now, none of that," he said. "You just- you just let it out. It's alright."
"I thought I was going to die again." Peyton buried her face in her hands; her cheeks were wet and she desperately wiped at them. It felt like half her mind was filled with static while the other half screamed at her to calm down. "I don't even know what would happen to me, if I died here." She was babbling; she needed to stop. "Where would I go? Would I go back?"
"I don't think I can answer that for you." He squeezed her shoulder and Peyton latched onto the weight of his hand, the pressure of his grip, the way the leather glove slid across her shirt. "Here's what I can say, though," he continued. "You're alive right now. And you have the chance to figure that out for yourself."
"Can you be alive twice?" She questioned, then realized what she said and clamped down on her babbling.
"Not everyone gets a second lease on life, but you did. And you should talk about it. I'm sure- well, I'm sure your husband would want you to confide in him."
Peyton couldn't help but snort even as she grasped at her self control and forced the static from her mind.
"He already knows more about me than I- than anyone else does."
She managed to get her breathing rhythmic and leaned back on her heels as she tried to pull herself together. As if Jonathan hadn't been next to her and witnessed the entire breakdown. He pulled away as she straightened herself out and seemed mildly relieved, though he still watched her with a neighborly concern. He stood as she did and watched as she brushed the dirt off her knees.
"You nearly died," he said. "There's no shame in being upset by it."
This time Peyton let out a bark of a laugh, short and sharp.
"You know, I told Lex the same thing after the scare at the plant." A silence lingered a few seconds as she swallowed. "I guess sometimes it's hard to accept your own advice."
Jonathan rolled his lips and put his hands on his hips as he looked away.
"Wish I could say I didn't know that firsthand. But I think that may just be part of being human."
He looked back at her with a small, solemn smile and Peyton sniffed and returned the expression. Jonathan scanned the field and the trailer to gauge their progress then gestured toward the tractor.
"Let me take you back to the house-"
"No." Peyton cut in. Jonathan raised a brow in surprise. "I want to finish. I'm okay now and- and it'll give my face some time to not be so red."
She could tell he was torn for a moment as he eyed the fields and the house again, but he relented with another nod.
"Alright," he conceded. "As long as you take it easy."
"I promise."
[]
Martha had lunch prepared by the time they returned to the house. The flowers near the house were freshly watered and there was a basket of clean clothes sitting on the couch waiting to be folded and put away. If Martha noticed Peyton's face was still blotchy, she didn't mention it. She slid over two plates with a sandwich and potato salad on each toward her and Jonathan.
"How'd moving the sprinklers go?" she asked.
Peyton and Jonathan shared a look and he answered for them.
"We got the whole back cornfield done. Peyton manages pretty well for being a city girl."
"Hey! That is… entirely valid, but unnecessary."
Martha brightened at their teasing and pointed at the plate nearest Peyton.
"Well, then, I think you've earned lunch. And probably a break as well. You look a bit flushed; I don't think you should push it."
"You're probably right," Peyton allowed. "I still have to do some admin work before it gets too late anyway."
She took a bite of the potato salad then downed half a glass of water; Jonathan dug into his own lunch next to her and Martha moved to tidy up.
The front door opened and Peyton froze with her sandwich halfway to her mouth. Martha and Jonathan froze as well.
"Hey, mom! Really quick, do you know where I put my-"
Clark rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a stop, his eyes wide as they landed on Peyton. Almost like he was surprised to see her, like he'd forgotten.
"Clark," Martha said tightly. "What in the world are you doing home?"
Clark floundered a bit as his gaze darted between all three adults in the room. Jonathan's jaw was clenched so tightly Peyton felt bad for his teeth.
"I, uh, I forgot an assignment. I was just going to grab it."
Peyton's brow furrowed as she glanced from Clark to the front door.
"You took the bus this morning," she said. "How'd you get home?"
If possible Clark's parents tensed further and Clark appeared more flustered as he gestured aimlessly.
"Oh, ah, well, a friend gave me a ride," he said. When Peyton looked to the front door again, he shifted in a way that blocked her view. "They're waiting at the end of the drive so I better hurry."
Martha rushed around the kitchen island.
"I'll help you look for it," she said. "You two just finish your lunch!"
They both hurried from the room and Peyton caught a few harsh whispers before the sound of their conversation disappeared altogether. Jonathan looked nearly as upset as the first time she'd met him after their crash off the bridge, but she couldn't imagine why. Unless he was mad that Clark forgot an assignment. Or left school grounds.
"I didn't hear a car pull up," Peyton said speculatively. "Why wouldn't they just pull up to the house?"
Jonathan attempted to smooth out his face and stabbed at his potato salad with a sort of stiff aggression.
"Oh, he probably assumed we'd all be out working and he could sneak in and grab it without us knowing. As long as the car didn't come too far down the drive, we'd never know."
Peyton still frowned at the explanation. She could almost understand it. It almost fit.
"Still, that's pretty far down the road. I don't know how he thought he could run down the driveway without anyone noticing that either."
"Teenagers," Jonathan offered sharply. "They always think they're invincible and they forget everything."
Martha came back into the kitchen a minute later and offered a tight smile.
"He found it," she said. "I have no idea what gets into his head sometimes."
Once again, Peyton tried to peer into the living room toward the front door, but Martha didn't move out of the way.
"Is he gone already?"
"Oh, yes, he had to run," Martha said. "His ride was waiting and they were already going to miss a good portion of lunch."
"Huh," Peyton huffed in confusion. "You think we'd have heard a car pull up the drive at all while we were outside in the field. That's strange."
"More things can slip by you than you think out here ," Martha excused. "Especially if you're distracted working."
"Or if you're lost in your thoughts," Jonathan said pointedly.
Peyton looked down at her sandwich and shrank slightly. She had been wrapped up in a mental breakdown and recovery. It made sense that she could have missed a lot after sobbing in the dirt. She cringed thinking about it and took a bite of her sandwich.
She must have been oblivious.
The rest of lunch continued quietly and, after, Peyton fetched her laptop to settle on the living room couch to work on memos. As usual, the work wasn't hard, but there were a few jobs piled up given her late start. She fluctuated between completing work and investigating the embezzlement case. With her notebook laying next to her on the cushion, she attempted to sift through some files and examine code where she could. But a lot of it didn't make sense to her. She cursed her lack of IT knowledge; she should have taken a few more courses on coding. If she was hitting a wall at this point, she might have to actually ask for help. Or simply bring the concern up with her parents. Still, for some reason the idea did sit comfortably with her. Likely due to her pride.
A low grumbling, growl drew her attention from her laptop and Peyton looked out the front window. It took several seconds, but finally the sight of a school bus caught up with the sound. She frowned again but shook off her questioning thoughts as Clark hopped off the bus and headed for the house.
It made sense. She'd been distracted. And what did she think? That Clark ran the entire way home and back during his lunch period? She'd tried to walk from Luthor mansion to town herself, and knew how far the distances in this town were by foot.
Even being young and fit, he wouldn't make it. Not without being soaked in sweat, at least.
Clark came in the door looking more hesitant than he initially had at lunch. He gave Peyton a smile and waved awkwardly.
"Hey," he said as he ducked into the room. He dropped his backpack on the floor and glanced around to check who was nearby. Peyton smiled and waved back with one hand and kept typing with the other. She didn't need to look at the keyboard to know where the keys were.
"Hey Clark! Manage to get any lunch today?"
"Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah. I got back in time, it was… it was fine. What about you? You're still working?"
"Yeah, well." She gave a dramatic little sigh. "I have a few more memos to write up. I don't get a free ride just because I'm my parent's daughter. I have to prove myself like everyone else. Well. Nearly like everyone else. I suppose I didn't have to interview."
"Me neither," Clark said. "I didn't even apply, but I'm still baling hay."
Peyton chuckled and Clark grinned.
"Ha, ha," Jonathan fake laughed as he entered the room. He wiped his hands with a dish towel and pointed at Clark. "Speaking of baling hay, you should start on your chores before dinner."
Clark rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen door, but Jonathan stopped him before he passed.
"Remember to do your best with them," he said pointedly. "Take your time."
Clark's face grew slightly irritated.
"I know, dad."
Jonathan watched Clark leave and Peyton pretended she didn't notice the exchange. But Jonathan leaned against the wall and fiddled with the towel again as if he still needed to dry off his hands.
"Are your parents really making you start from the bottom?" he questioned. "Seems like you'd have enough experience to be given a higher position."
Peyton wasn't sure if it was genuine curiosity or a sort of prodding test. She looked back at her laptop as she contemplated how to answer.
"I probably should have been by now," she admitted. "But I couldn't- I didn't apply myself as much as I could have while growing up. I had some… cognitive issues." She turned back and smiled cheekily to cover any vulnerability. "Luckily I had Lex to keep me out of trouble."
Jonathan didn't try to hide the small snort at her words.
"I said you wouldn't believe me, but it's true. Barring some… juvenile errors in judgment, I think Lex has prioritized my well being far more than he should have, than he was obligated to. I think it's part of why his dad hates me so much."
That seemed to surprise Jonathan.
"Hates you," he clarified.
"Oh yeah. He's made that abundantly clear to both of us. But… Lex married me anyway. It's probably offensive to Lionel's idea of blood first."
"Well." He put his fists on his hips and his mouth twisted in thought. "I wouldn't trust Lionel Luthor as far as I could throw him. I wouldn't take his opinion to heart."
"I don't," Peyton said easily. "Not when it was clear from the moment I met him that Lex was scare-" She halted again and swallowed as she flashed a nervous smile. "Sorry, never mind."
They were both saved by Martha coming downstairs with an empty laundry basket tucked against her side.
"I thought I heard the bus," she said. "Is Clark out back?"
Thankfully, Jonathan jumped on the change in subject.
"Yeah, he's in the barn doing his chores."
"I'll bring him a snack then." Martha sat the basket down and moved on to the kitchen. "He's always starving. I swear that boy can eat more than his body weight. We're lucky we grow some of our own produce, or he'd eat us out of house and home."
Jonathan cast Peyton one last speculative look, then followed his wife into the kitchen. He came up behind her and held one side of her head to give her a kiss on the temple while she prepared a snack. Peyton's heart lurched as she recalled Lex's same gesture.
It was only one day on her own, but she still kind of missed him. A little. Not that she was yearning or despondent. She'd gone to her parent's house for a few days and been just fine. But that stupid kiss had unlocked Pandora's Box in her head and things were horribly different now. Inconveniently different.
She picked up her phone and texted him again.
[Any progress on figuring out who may've broken into the mansion?]
Lex's response came more quickly than his reply in the morning.
[Unfortunately, no. If you want, I can call after dinner and go over what steps are being taken.]
The phrasing struck her for some reason. She could almost hear his voice. That same tone from when he was little.
If you're bored, you could play with me.
They were technically married now. It would be normal for them to talk on the phone. It'd be expected even. She wanted to talk to him.
[That'd be great. And I can tell you about my new experience with sprinklers.]
["When in Rome" better not have meant you were doing actual farm labor.]
Peyton simply responded with a smiley face and stopped texting to get back to work. Her phone buzzed a couple more times.
She made a mental note to take the phone call in the guest room.
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My honest guess is that Lex doesn't approve of farm labor after near death experiences.