Almost Lovers (Chapter Five)

On a quick note, The book preceding this was nominated for Best Chlark in the Smallville Fandom Creativity Awards.

And this series was nominated for best series!

And it WON!

I am beyond thrilled as this series is my most precious baby. I will be finishing this before the end of July. Mark my words!

Now, on to the story!

(Banner by Summerstarr882)

Sorry this took so long. You know me and group scenes. It's always tough to keep track of who's where, doing and saying what. It's fun, but challenging. And, I confess, I was hoping to fit Christmas into just one chapter, but I kept indulging myself on Bart and Linda. There's just so many awesomely silly thngs to make them say and, darn it, it's my last book! I'm gonna miss those two in this universe. 

Chapter Five

"She's not going to get away with this," Linda said with menace.

Lois sighed and slipped a red napkin through a green plastic ring. "With what? Cooking?"

"Exactly." Linda shoved some plastic holly into the centerpiece with what Lois thought was unneccessary force. Lana Lang was handy in the kitchen, which Linda seemed to take as some kind of call to arms as Lois was, apparently, supposed to beat Lana at any and every thing. "While we set the table..."

"I think we're doing okay with it." Lois slipped a green napkin through a red ring this time and placed it on one of Martha's candy striped plates. "It's looking pretty festive."

"It's a demotion," Linda hissed, "and you're not standing for it." She moved closer to Lois. "Stop ringing napkins and... and go in there. Make Hot Dog Surprise. You used to be really good at that one."

Lois turned to her. "What in the world is..."

"Ugh. Never mind. I don't think hot dogs covered in canned beans and melted cheese is going to measure up for Christmas fare," Linda said, worrying at her lip. "But what will?" She turned accusing eyes on Lois. "Why can't you cook?"

"I think we're just going to have to accept that we can't," Lois said emphatically. Martha had so far rejected every attempt at help from either of them. Rightly so.

"Why aren't you more annoyed?" Linda whispered.

"Because I wouldn't eat my cooking, If Lana can cook up something I can eat, more power to her." 

"You need to do something. She's trying to show you up," Linda insisted.

"I doubt it." Or maybe she was. She had seemed to preen an awful lot when Martha insisted on having her help. Even so, Lois had better reasons to be annoyed with Lana Lang, such as her snooping and supposed answers that, even up to them riding here today, were ridiculously vague. On the long drive to Smallville, she'd tried her damnedest. She had completely sidestepped the obvious mysteries, such as the supposedly loaded Lorna Leery riding the bus and spending no money, and just decided to go for the innocuous questions. And even that got her nothing!

How's life in Florida? "Oh, it's just great." Then why so eager to leave it? "Just wanted to see home." Gosh, the Grand's a nice hotel. I'd love to come see that suite. "Oh, it's nothing special."But you're staying there, right? "You know, I hear the Metropolis Halldorf's much nicer."

Never an outright lie, but never an outright answer, either, damn the woman! As Linda already had it in for Lana, she wasn't about to tell Linda any of the Lana business -- and especially not today. It was Christmas and she was determined to make all the merriment she could. Tomorrow would be a different story. Tomorrow, she would attempt to unravel the mystery of Lana Lang. Tomorrow, she would also attempt to revive her fading career. Perry had been less than impressed with her man-on-the-street meaning-of-Christmas piece. He had run it on the front page as it was all they had and enough people liked schmaltz at this time of year. But he'd also grumbled menacingly about how the "damned Star was outselling the Planet! The STAR!"

And it had. For three days straight, The Metropolis Star had been running tantalizing little bites about Moxie's. First, there was a small bit of outrage over the scantily clad women in this supposedly classy joint, then there was the fact that they were making their employees work Christmas day, both gossip column items from some anonymous source. Then, lo and behold, a release from Bruno Mannheim is published saying they had magnanimously changed the uniforms for female staff and generously given the staff Christmas day off with pay. And as much as she tried to point out to Perry and herself that none of this was most likely a stunt to drum up public interest, the public was interested. If there was one thing people loved more than sticking it to a career criminal like Mannheim, it was the idea that a career criminal had turned over a new leaf --- especially around Christmas. And The Star, not the Planet, was giving them what they wanted. She had to find a way to right the universe again. Just not today.

"Anyway, Bart's being pretty handy in the kitchen," Lois pointed out. Mostly, he'd been tasting and pointing out what needed more pepper, garlic, or sage. But it was a culinary skill. "Is he trying to show me up?"

"I guess not." Linda huffed and took a stack of teacups from Martha's china cabinet. "He gets all the fun. All that eating had to pay off at some point."

"I heard that," Bart said, moving in with almost exaggerated slowness. "And I am not having fun." He sat across from Lois, again, very slowly. "Why do we have a civillian here? You know I could have had this table set while taste testing and probably finished the lights by now?" He gestured irritably out the window. Diana, AC, and Oliver had volunteered to put up more Christmas lights as Martha hadn't got to it with Clark being preoccupied, then gone. Victor wasn't here quite yet. "I just bet they're using powers," Bart grumbled. 

"Not Oliver," Linda said.

"Well, he doesn't have any. Lucky bastard. You regular people don't get how hard this is."

Linda gasped. "Regular?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." He waved her off irritably. "How am I supposed to even work up an appetitite?"

Linda snorted. "When has that ever been a problem with you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "This from the woman who crept out of her room at midnight and ate my entire breakfast pizza?"

"It was just sitting there," Linda mumbled sheepishly. "I thought it was for anyone." 

"Anyway, this blows. I'm going to get all confused. I'm supposed to not use powers, I pretend I don't know Clark has powers, people are going to call me Bart..."

Lois had to laugh. "Don't we usually call you Bart?"

"Yeah, but you don't mean it. Deep down, you're all seeing the majestic Flash."

"Oh, brother," Linda groaned.

"This is serious! I'm going to mess up and then the whole thing'll go to holiday hell unless she doesn't..." Bart stood suddenly. "Wait a second." He zipped to the door.

Lois stood. "Bart!"

"Pffft! She didn't see." He opened the door. "I'll fix everything. Don't worry," he said before disappearing.

Lois stared at the still open door. "Why am I worried?"

"Because you've met Bart?" 

Lois moved to close the door, but stopped, poking her head out as Diana floated up past the porch. She had a mind to warn them not to get too obvious, but Lana was safely in the kitchen. In fact, this might have been the very reason Martha insisted on having her in there. Smart lady, that Martha. They could show off, have a little fun for now. She moved to the porch, now with garlands and lights circling every post, pulling her sweater closed, chuckled as Oliver shot a string of lights to the corner of the barn to wild applause from the others. 

"You guys could start a service." 

She turned her eyes back to the ground, surprised to see Clark moving down the drive toward them, laden with bags. He glanced toward her and she quickly ducked back into the house, leaning against the door.

"About time you closed that," she heard Linda say as she stepped out of the dining room. "I was about to put on my coa... What's the matter with you?" 

Lois couldn't pinpoint that herself. "Just cold out there," she said, which was true enough. She could feel the prickling as the blood rushed back to the surface of her skin, but most seemed to go straight to her cheeks. She'd known she'd be seeing Clark today considering she was in his mother's house. She just didn't know how to feel right now. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't missed him at work these last days. As unwelcome as Clark had been when he first started at The Planet, he'd kind of become a part of her day. But she was also angry with him on several levels -- one of them involving the bracelet that was definitely more than some roadside souvenir, another that he still refused to tell her what he was really doing with his vacation, and the other that, just as she'd made up her mind that they were going to be friends, he was never around. How the hell was she supposed to practice acting around him if he was never there?

Okay. Deep breaths and just act casual. Hell, she'd been undercover with bored upper middle class housewives with nothing better to do than scrutinize her. She could surely pull that off and figure out how the hell to feel later. She started with Linda. "Oh, Clark's here, by the way," she said -- and casually -- as she moved to the china cabinet. Candles. They needed red candles and that was certainly more important than Clark being here.

"Oh, so we are being graced with his presence." She glanced to the door, pursing her lips. "Come here." She pulled Lois into the living room, grabbing her purse from the window seat. "God, you could have at least worn a skirt or something!"

Lois scoffed. "You're wearing pants."

"Well, it's different. I'm a married woman. Maybe martha has something you can..."

"I am not changing my clothes," she groaned as Linda started fluffing her hair. 

"I don't know what you have against volume, but it needs to stop."

"Linda..."

"At least take off this frumpy cardigan. It's warm enough with the heat coming out of that kitchen." 

She started to protest as Linda started pulling it off her, then stopped because... Well, she was warm enough even in her red, sleeveless top. But why did it matter to Linda, considering how she usually felt about Clark? She couldn't help asking her.

"This isn't about Clark. This is about winning," Linda said with satisfied smile as she pulled out her lipstick. 

"Winning again?" But she let Linda put it on her

"When you look your best, you win. And he suffers just a little. And I win." She pulled out a tissue. "Blot."

Lois obeyed, then shook her head. "So which is it? Is Clark so powerfully attracted to me that lipstick will cause extreme agony? Or am I a horrible frump who will be quickly eclipsed by the superior beauty of Lana Lang? You can't have both."

"I never said you were a frump. I just said you dress that way."

"Oh, that's better."

"Listen, I'm not gonna sugarcoat. That woman might have the glossiest hair I've ever seen and that... well, little girl face if guys go for that." Linda started on the eyeliner.

"Which they do."

"But you, my love, have the superior figure if you would just make the most of it. Back in those obviously-bygone days, you used to show a little curve, then you started covering up like a business casual nun. God help me," she said as she pulled out her mascara, "but I was thinking if one good thing could come of you repainting your brain, it would be a fashion overhaul."

"Gee, you're sensitive."

Linda chuckled. "You want endless feelings, talk to Lana Lang."

"She is kind of..." Lois stopped herself as it was Christmas and Linda didn't need more fuel.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Say it," Linda prodded, pulling her mascara wand away.

"You think that's a threat?"

"Ugh. Fine. Take your stupid high road. I'll wallow in the ditch for you and say that I couldn't take three seconds of her navel-gazing."

Lois had to agree.,. silently.

"Or Clark, for that matter. I lived here for a time and the way that guy whined and moaned about him and Lana bored me to tears."

Lois tried not to frown. "So maybe Lana's the best choice to make him suffer."

"But not in a fun way. Eyes up," she ordered as she brandished her concealer. "I should buy you some real cosmetics, by the way. Not that cheap pancake crap you pick up for two dollars at Met-Aid pharmacy."

"I thought I made it clear that you are forbidden to buy me anything until my next birthday. After that dress..."

"Which you should have worn."

"And which I could have never afforded," Lois countered. "Anyway, it's too dressy and I'm not exactly impoverished, here. I can buy my own make-up."

"Prove it," Linda chuckled as she finished patting the stuff under Lois' eyes. "There. Almost perf..." There were voices on the porch. "They're coming in. Damn it, damn it, damn it," she muttered shoving everything back in her purse and pulling Lois' neckline down. "I didn't do blush." She glanced shrewdly at Lois, then pinched both her cheeks -- and hard.

"Ow!"

"Oh, darn," Linda said loudly. "I'm so sorry I... hit you."

"You are at least half insane, you know," Lois hissed. 

Linda just smiled and pulled her up and turned her to the others as they filed in. "Poor Lois. I accidentally elbowed her right in the mouth. Damn these hormones! Do her lips look swollen to any of you? I swear they look swollen" Linda leaned closer. "Pout a little, for Christ's sake," she said under her breath.

Lois blanched as Clark dropped his bags and stepped closer, looking concerned. "I'm fine, as you can see," she said through clenched teeth, nudging Linda away. "but thanks a lot, Linda."

Linda just chuckled and nodded at Clark. "Smallville."

Lois tried for a smile as Linda moved off to Ollie. "Merry Christmas, Clark."

"Yeah. That." His eyes strayed down and hers did, too. Damn it, Linda! She turned quickly away and tugged her top up as at least a half inch of her bra was showing. She doubted she needed blush now.

"So... did you guys get all the lights and holly up?" she said, not acknowledging that bit of awkwardness as she moved to the tree.

"Uh... Yeah. Looks good." He followed, then sort of stood on the other side of it, pulling at a string of tinsel. "Probably better when it's... you know... dark and all."

She gave him a strained smile. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

And she knew there were definitely too many "yeahs" between them, but damned if she could think of anything else to say. It was a good thing Martha chose that moment to march in, clapping her hands. 

"Okay! Everything's on reheats now. Turkey is falling off the bone, which is a good... Clark!" She rushed to him. "You've been here all this time?"

"I just got here," he said, scooping her into a hug. "Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Merry Christmas, Honey." She pulled back and looked him up and down. "Where did you get that awful coat?" Lois had to agree. She'd barely noticed the ragged army-green coat. Lucky for Clark, he wouldn't have to wear it for long. She glanced at a large, red box at her feet.

"Oh, I just picked it up for..."

"How many jackets of yours do I have to force on the homeless?" she said, turning him around. 

"Is that where my red and blue..."

"Never mind. I'm just glad you actually made it." She said, taking the coat and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I promise not to burn it," she said, moving away. "I'd better start getting the food out."

It was then that Lana sailed in. "Clark! I knew I heard your voice." She moved quickly toward him and wrapped her arms around his chest.

In unrelated business, Lois gave that red box just the slightest kick, then looked up to find Linda gesturing wildly from across the room and staring at her, aghast. "Do something," she mouthed

"Stop it," Lois mouthed back.

Bart chose that moment to throw open the front door. "The party can officially begin!" he announced, holding up a large box that clanked rather loudly. "Mrs. K," he yelled toward the kitchen, "sorry I had to step out, but I noticed you were sadly lacking libations, so I just went to get some from..." He glanced at Lana. "From the car," he finished more quietly.

Victor followed behind, looking a little peaked. "Never again," he muttered, placing down a bag that Lois hoped included everything he was supposed to bring. But she wouldn't bother him about that just now as she suspected he hitched a ride with Bart rather than take the helicopter in an effort to keep this low-key.

"Hey, I could be saying that, you festering hunk of tin... man," Bart finished awkwardly, "Tin Man," he said loudly. "That's what we call this guy! Because... if he only had a heart." Bart nodded.

"If you only had a brain," Victor growled.

Bart ignored him and placed the box on a side table and moved purposefully to Lana. " Can I tempt you, Miss... Is it Leery or Lang? I just can't keep it straight?" He pulled her away from Clark, who looked rather overwhelmed.

"It's... Lang's fine." Lana looked a bit overwhelmed as well as Bart pulled her towards that table with something approaching his default speed. "But I don't really drink mu..."

"See, I'm an aspiring bartender and I've been practicing drinks particularly pleasing to the ladies. And the men. Can't lie. Even AC, here, can't say no to my Appletini."

"Dude!" AC hissed, glancing at Diana, who gave a deep laugh. "You said you wouldn't..."

"But I've heard you're a woman of discerning tastes," he said, taking her hand to his lips. "Don't break my heart and say you won't help me out."

Lana gave a nervous sort of giggle. "Uh... sure. I'll try just one."

"That's what they all say," he said, tossing Lois a wink as he pulled the bottles out.

"Oh, boy," she mumbled, getting an idea of how Bart meant to fix things.

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CHAPTER SIX