More light was coming in. When she'd first opened her eyes on the couch, she wasn't sure if the clock that woke her was chiming five at night or in the morning. The sky had been a darkened orange and seemed like it could go either way. She'd nearly liked feeling so unsure. It was as if she had nothing at all to do, to decide. How could she when she didn't even know if it was morning or night?
"Morning," Lois whispered, sort of disappointed to know. Now there were things to do.
The light crept over the room and her eyes lit on the walls around her. She wrapped the blanket more closely around herself and moved toward the TV. Not so much the TV as the wall behind it. There were so many pictures. Large 8x10 photos of a boy at vrious stages, but all with the pasted-on smile of someone being forced to wear a tie to school. Smaller frames of a young woman with hair that looked strawberry blonde in the sunlight. She looked so gorgeous, Lois might think it was one of those models that came with the frame, if the heart-shaped lips didn't give it away as Martha. Her eyes moved to one in front of a church. Martha, hair upswept in a white dress, grinning and clinging to a blonde man with the kind of smile that crinkled his eyes. Had to be Jonathon Kent.
She moved to a collage frame with various pictures. Clark on Halloween dressed as an old time hobo with a bundle dangling from a stick. Jonathon standing next to a shiny, red tractor. Martha holding Clark on her hip...
"So many," she found herself saying aloud. She looked around, feeling a strange ache behind her eyes. It wasn't just this wall, but other walls as well as every table, mounted shelf. Pictures, figurines, knick-knacks, probably all with stories behind them that...
"Lois?"
She turned, blinking, to see Martha, tying a robe.
"It's five-thirty." Martha shivered slightly, hugging her arms. "What are you doing up?"
She shrugged. "Just woke up. I'm not tired."
Martha yawned and rolled her neck. "Well, I guess ten hours is enough for now." She shivered again. "Drafty old house." She smiled tiredly. "Come on. I'll make us some coffee."
She followed Martha into the kitchen as she flipped a light on. "What are you doing up?"
"Oh, I'm always up with the cows." She pulled a canister from the fridge. "Even when there aren't cows anymore. Hard habit to break."
Lois looked around the kitchen. "I don't know where anything is, but I could..."
"Don't you lift a finger," Martha cut in. "Despite what some people say, you're a guest here. Just make yourself at home."
"Home," she repeated feeling that strange ache again. Her eyes lit on a bulletin board and she moved to it, seeing grocery lists, recipes cut from magazines and even more pictures, some old with yellowed edges. "So many memories," she marveled.
"Hmm?" Martha moved to her. "Oh, Jonathon put that thing up years ago, thought it would help me. I keep putting things on it, then I never look at them again." She chuckled, pulling down an old drawing of three misshapen people. "That's supposed to be us. I think Clark made this in first grade. He was never an artist, but he did try." She laughed to herself again as the smell of coffee filled the room. "This recipe was from my Weight Watchers phase around 94. Jonathon eventually told me I looked fine and begged me to quit making all of us suffer."
Lois squeezed her eyes shut. "Must be nice," she choked.
"Lois?" Martha touched her arm. "Sweetie?"
"I'm fine." She turned to Martha. "Really, I'm just... I guess I'm insanely jealous. You are surrounded by things that tell you... so much about yourself. And Clark... I think whenever he feels lost and doesn't know who he is, there's this place. It just.... It must be nice to have some place like this. Something with history."
Martha led her to the table. "This place doesn't just hold the history of the Kent family, you know. There's so much more that..."
Both women turned at a tapping sound. Through the slightly frosted window on the kitchen door, Diana's face appeared. "Look who's up," she called through the glass.
Martha sighed. "I was afraid of this."
Lois sat up. "Afraid of what?"
Martha stood. "Just remember that you have a choice." She moved to the door and opened it. "Hi, Diana. I didn't expect you so early."
"I was just going to drop this and come back in an hour," she said, moving in and putting a suitcase down, "but I saw the light on. How nice that we can get such an early start." She took a deep breath and smiled, obviously the happiest woman in the room about it. Martha closed the door and moved to the suitcase. "Oh, don't do that. It's heavy."
Martha shook her head and grasped the handle. "I'm sure I can..." She pulled it up before dropping it, shaking her arm.
"Told you. I'm a pretty efficient packer. Military trained." She easily lifted the bag with a finger. "I think I got all the essentials. Bath products, unmentionables, shoes... I brought mostly comfy clothes. I almost forgot to make sure they were warm ones, then Clark went on about you catching cold and..."
"Clark was there?" Lois stood.
"Not for long. I shooed him out. I don't know what you see in the guy." She shrugged. "Total control freak."
"Well, we aren't exactly... seeing each other," Lois muttered, wishing the rest of them would stop throwing that around.
"Do I smell coffee?"
Martha gave a tired smile. "Yes. Would you like some?"
"Please. But I'll get..."
"No, no. Sit," Martha insisted. She pointed at Lois. "You, too."
Diana took the chair next to Lois. "Is it just me or is that the best smell ever next to baby's head?"
"Well, I..."
"I cannot wait for that baby, by the way. Linda and I had a little talk at the party and I think we've ironed out a few things. I've been guaranteed aunt status."
"Uh-huh." As nice as the pending birth was, Lois wondered if anyone had the right to be so perky in the morning. Even with ten hours of sleep, she had nothing near this much energy. She was suddenly glad to be staying with Martha. If Clark had decided to deposit her among the superbeings at The Tower, she wasn't sure she could take it.
Martha put down three mugs, then a pitcher and sugar bowl. "Two creams, one sugar, Lois?"
"Yes," Lois said, looking up, only mildly surprised as Martha fixed it for her. It seemed ages ago that she marveled that Clark knew how she took her coffee. That Martha knew as well was... strangely comforting at this point. She pulled the mug to her, rather wishing that she could just spend the day at this table with Martha, just talking and coffee and...
"Yoga," Diana sort of sang. "Nothing like a sunrise session. You wake up along with the world, at one with all the..."
"Coffee," Lois grunted. "I need coffee first."
"Well, first things first," Diana chirped, pulling a mug to her. "Don't need it. But I sure like it."
Martha sat as well, looking tired already. "Cream or..."
"I take it black." She looked from Lois to Martha. "This is nice. After all that endless testosterone, a relaxing coffee with the girls is like a little vacation." She downed her coffee quickly, then slapped her mug down. "There. I'll go set up our mats." She sailed out of the kitchen.
Lois stared after her. "I'm not sure Diana gets what relaxing means."
"Or vacation," Martha agreed. "In these last few years, I've noticed that about... them."
"Them?"
Martha waved her hand. "Just all of them. I don't think they could take a vacation if they tried. It's this... whole other world. They have these double lives, but neither of them quite... balance. I try to help Clark, but he's as stubborn as the rest of them. Nobody stops to enjoy..."
"Lois?" Diana popped her head in. "All set. I've put on some Dolphin sounds. Arthur turned me on to them and they really do help you feel the sea, even landlocked in Kansas. It's beautifully..."
"Why don't we hold off on that, Diana?" Martha stood. "I was just about to put on some breakfast and you're welcome to..."
"Oh, not yet." She moved to the table and squeezed Lois' shoulder. "At least not for us. We need our bodies and minds clear. Probably pushed it with the coffee, but we should have a little fun."
"Fun," Lois echoed, thinking Diana didn't quite grasp that word, either.
"There will be plenty of time for breakfast between seven and eight-thirty. Then Arthur's coming for a little memory refresh. Victor's coming at eleven to help work those hacking muscles. Then lunch is scheduled for one. Oh!" She turned to Martha. "And don't feel pressured to cook or anything. We can make Bart come early with takeout, even though he's scheduled for two. He should be around till four and then... Well, your time is yours. You can have a nap and dinner and... Wait! I almost forgot. Clark wants the hours between six and eight clear. Other than that..."
Martha sank against the counter, looking nearly as exhausted as Lois felt already. "I assure you, I have no problem providing meals rather than Bart's usual fare, but..." She shook her head. "Diana, is all this really necessary?"
"Of course it is. We need to make the most of every minute." She squeezed Lois' shoulder again. "We only have four days left of your vacation," she said before moving out. "Come on."
"Vacation," Martha whispered, bending down as she moved past her, picking up the coffee mugs. "Ponder that word for me."
"Stop it. This is important." Or it seemed like it should be. Despite what looked like a rigorous schedule, it filled the day. Earlier, she'd not even known if it was morning or night. Now she had something planned for nearly every spare second. "This is for the best," she said, standing.
"If you say so," Martha sighed.
Lois shuffled to the living room. Ten hours of sleep and she was already so tired.
*****************************
"You look tired."
"Hmm?" Clark looked up from the bread plate he'd been falling into.
Lana tilted her head. "I said you look tired. Guess it's because you are."
"I'm fine." He shook himself. "I don't even need much sleep. But I'm probably getting less than ever."
"Oh. If you want to skip this and take a nap, I'd..."
"No," he cut in. "We need to catch up and I shouldn't... I don't want to put it off any more."
She sighed. "Clark, if you have too much going on, I..."
"No. Lana, I really want this. I want us to be friends." He owed it to her. He owed her some kind of pleasant end after everything. "I talked to my mom. We'd be glad to have you for Christmas dinner."
She smiled. "I was hoping for that. I don't think I've had Christmas at your house for... four years?" She shook her head. "It can't be that long."
"No. I think it has been. It was... uh..." He rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry. I'm a little out of it today. I was up so early this morning. Bart was..." He shut his mouth. He was tired and afraid of saying too much. He couldn't explain training or Bart or any of them. "I have this friend, Bart. He likes to go jogging and he shows up at six in the morning and I sort of... have to go with him."
"But you don't need to jog. Do you?"
"Well..."
"Here we are." They both looked up as the waiter arrived with their entrees. He was glad, not just for food, but for the interruption. Everything about him these days was so tied up with things that weren't hers to know.
"I guess you do it for your friend's sake," Lana said, unfolding her napkin as the waiter left. "But it must be torture, holding back."
"You have no idea," he said. Though the torture was keeping up. "It's not just that," he said, wanting to get off the "jogging" subject. "I'm not sure I've had a rested night since after Halloween. It was just tough, keeping up an investigation and three lives and... I know the story's over, but it still weighs on me." He was still feeling the after-effects of it now, of decisions he'd made then. He'd do it all again. Every single one of them was safe, but...
"Was it that bad?" Lana put her fork down. "I read the articles, but..."
"It was worse. You, of all people, know that I can't put everything about what I do in print. And this was probably... I've seen some crazy things, but this is one of the few times I saw... evil." He stared into his pasta. "The worst part was that they seemed so convinced they were right. Kind of like Lex."
Lana squinted at him. "Like Lex?"
"He was always so single-minded. All of those projects, messing with things he shouldn't..." He sat back. "I guess I have a different perspective on him now. For so many years, I was so afraid of him finding out about me that I never saw that, in some misguided way, he was trying to do something good. Or at least he thought it was good. Sometimes I wonder if everyone could have been spared so much pain if I just told him, trusted him. But when you see the methods he used... Seeing that, I know that he couldn't have been trusted. The ends don't justify the means. The things he did with what little alien technology he had were... awful. But I can accept now that he thought... that he always thought he was doing something good in the end. Maybe that's why I prefer to leave him alone these days. See if he does something better. I don't know." He shook himself. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. I don't know how we got on Lex."
"It's okay." Lana frowned and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"Hmm?"
She looked up. "I'm just... I'm sorry you've had to see so many awful things."
"Some things just shouldn't be touched. Let's just leave it at that." He smiled sadly. "Here this was supposed to be a nice lunch and I'm going on about illegal experiments and..."
"Well, you are tired, as you say."
"What about you?"
"I didn't have the best sleep ever, but I'm mostly..."
"No. I mean... How are you? What has Lorna Leery been up to?"
She shook her head, chuckling. "Lorna Leery is boring."
"Still, I'd like to know. I've been dominating this lunch when you know what's going on with me. You read the paper."
"No. I really am boring. It's strange, being anywhere but Smallville. There's no town full of meteor freaks to bring on the excitement. I just... live." She shrugged. "I bought a coffee shop."
He laughed. "I kind of thought you might."
"It was pretty much all I knew, so I decided to pick that up again."
"I'd like to see it. Maybe I could take a run to Florida next time..."
"Oh, don't bother. It's nothing special. I'm hardly ever there. It's just for income."
"But you used to be so passionate about The Talon."
"That was The Talon. It was different. I saw it as a part of my town's history. I don't feel about Tallahassee the way I did about Smallville. It's not mine. I wish... I wish I could have what's mine back sometimes."
"What's yours?"
"My life. I didn't just lose myself in this name," she said softly, staring past him. "I lost it in so many..." She straightened and smiled suddenly. "No point dwelling on the past. It's gone. All you can do is move on."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "If you want to talk about..."
"I don't." She picked up her fork again. "And, you know, Lorna Leery's life isn't so bad. I've done okay for myself."
"You do have a suite at The Grand."
"Suite at the Grand, shopping trips, manicures... My business pretty much runs itself. I have nothing to fill my days. It's a good life."
"That's... great," he said, not convinced, not sure she was convinced.
"It is. I'm doing great."
******************************
"You're doing great," Victor said, squeezing her shoulder.
"Are you sure? Because I feel like I'm not doing it right."
"No. You got it. You have now hacked into the US Navy's main server. Now just..."
"What?" She pushed her chair back, away from the table and the evil laptop. "Victor, I can't..."
"Relax. I do it all the time for AC."
"For AC?"
He shrugged. "The guy thinks they aren't vigilant enough about people abusing wildlife in international waters. Of course, their hands are tied there, but his aren't. So he keeps an eye an reports pertaining to..."
"But this is so big. Even if I found something this way, I could never print it."
"It's not about printing it. It's about stopping it. You used to do stuff like this all the time."
"I did?"
"Sure, before you hung up that Watchtower hat to leave us for journalism, you were our go-to hacker. At least if I wasn't available."
"I'm not saying it's not a handy skill." In fact, she could definitely use this if she kept it off The Planet's logs. "I guess it just feels weird."
"Another hour with me and it'll be second nature. Just like before."
"Just like before," she echoed.
"I hate to interrupt," Martha called from the doorway. "But it's lunch time."
The front door banged open and Bart sped in, as if on cue. "Lunch? I heard that."
"You would hear that," Victor chuckled.
"Well. I'm starving. I've been forced to do manual labor and..." He sniffed the air. "Did you use white cheddar? I love white cheddar." He moved to the kitchen.
"Not yet." Martha put a hand up. "Are you done?"
"No. But I'm almost done," Bart whined.
"Done what?" Lois stared at Bart. "I thought you weren't coming until two."
"That's what I thought until Mrs. K called me and told me I needed to be here a whole hour early with the promise of baked macaroni and cheese with ham, which I can smell right now and..."
"And which you can have when you're done," Martha cut in, escorting him to the front door again.
"Done what?" Lois asked again.
"You'll see," Martha said, passing her. "Now I don't just want them in there. I want them accessible. I want it nice."
"I want it nice, too. But I thought..."
"Fifteen more minutes. I know that's all you need, so..."
"But it'll be all gone."
"Oh, no it won't. There wll be plenty left. Now just...
Their voices trailed off as Martha shut the door.
Lois turned to Victor. "What's going on?"
"My guess is as good as yours." He stood. "Come on. I'll keep you company while you eat."
Lois moved into the kitchen to find a plate already heaped with food, a glass of iced tea, and an issue of The Daily Planet on the table. "I could get used to this," she said, sitting, "but I shouldn't." Breakfast had been waiting for her after an hour of deep breathing with Diana. There had even been an orange slice cut to look like a flower. "I told Martha I don't need all this..."
"Oh, let her," Victor said. "It's been a long time since she had a kid in the house."
"I'm not a kid," she said, though she had kind of liked the way Martha had made her pancakes with an egg and bacon smiley face.
"To her, you are." Victor took the chair across from her. "And I know, from knowing you, that you didn't get much mom treatment growing up."
"I suppose I didn't," she said, knowing the facts of her life. Not much besides that, as in everything. She dug in. "This is good. But very fattening. Lunch is usually yogurt and flax seed."
Victor laughed. "Right."
"What? I try to eat healthy. I..."
"And you fail. I knew your daily routine in Star City. Breakfast was coffee, maybe a muffin, lunch was a quick hot dog from whatever stand you passed, and dinner was a salad to make up for all that... until Ollie caught you raiding his fridge for ribs and ice cream late at night."
She lifted her head. "Well, you don't know me now. I even go to the gym."
"Really? When was the last time?"
She took another bite. "Oh, shut up." She wondered if her membership had lapsed. She'd been pretty gung-ho on it up until October, but since...
"Hey, no one's saying you're fat. Far from it."
"What is that?" she mumbled around her food. "Everyone keeps harping on my weight. I'm eating."
Victor shielded himself. "Yeah. I can feel that." He laughed again. "I just don't think too much has changed. And I like that."
"Well... some things have changed."
"Not that I see." He smiled. "You'll be back to your old self in no time."
She frowned into her baked macaroni. "My old self."
"We'll see to it. Don't you worry. You'll be..."
"Lois?"
Lois glanced up, saw Martha in the doorway. Who was she supposed to be now? Was she Lois or...
"Could you come with me?"
She blinked, realizing Martha wasn't posing a deep question. "Sure." She stood. "Where are we..."
"It's a surprise." Martha led Lois through the dining room, grabbing a sweater off the back of a chair and handing it to her. "I was thinking about what you said earlier." She led her to the entryway. "I think we all need a place to remind us who we are." She opened the front door and gestured for Lois to move through it.
Lois passed her, wondering what this was about. "Where are we going?"
"Not far."
To her surprise, Martha passed the truck and led her toward the barn. "I know this isn't permanent, but I thought, just for now, that you could have a little space just for you."
"In the barn?" She stopped at the large door. "I don't get..."
"You will."
Martha led her through the door.
The first things she saw were boxes. Empty ones tossed on the packed dirt floor, then she saw... "Books," she breathed. They were stacked on an old desk, a worn shelf, propped against an old rocking chair. Then knick-knacks, figurines, and Bart. He placed more books on a folding card table, then tossed an empty box over the railing.
"Here you go, Lois. Chloe Sullivan central." He turned to Martha. "Do I get to eat now?"
"Yes. Go eat." Martha waved him away and he was gone. She turned to Lois. "Well?"
She looked around. "Linda said you had some stuff. I thought..." Her eyes went wide. "I was thinking a few boxes with photo albums. But this... It fills half a barn."
"I put these boxes in my fruit cellar when you moved to Star City. You didn't seem to want them at the time, but I thought... I always thought they'd come in handy."
"So much," she marveled. She saw photos, yearbooks, even clothes. "I never thought there was so much. I... I don't know where to look first."
She felt Martha squeeze her shoulders from behind. "Anywhere you want," she whispered in her ear. "You have all the time in the world."
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