The Memoirs

That had been a phone call Toni didn't think she'd ever have received. She looked at the receiver for a good, long moment, and took the phone off, before setting it on the kitchen counter. A last glance at it, a bit lip, and she stood up, slowly. Her belly was starting to show now, obviously, and though the questions had run rampant at the office, she'd ignored them steadily. She looked down at it now, gently rubbing the mound through her tied robe, and picked up her coffee before trailing back upstairs. She tugged her glasses out of her robe pocket and slid them on, and stopped on the way to the bedroom in the small office Graham had put together for her. She looked over her hundreds of medical tomes... took two down, and setting them on her hip, walked back to the bedroom.

Graham was sitting up in bed, the sheet pooled around his middle as he watched her come in through the bedroom door. "Wha's goin' on wi'Morgan?" he asked softly.

His hair was standing on end from where he'd run his fingers through it, and his arms were crossed over his knees as he leaned forward, holding his hands out to take the heavy books from her before she sat down.

"I don't know yet. Idiot man. In his typical fashion, he kept it from me until Lionel had to tell me. Nightmares he can't wake up out of, sleep walking. Sleep running, actually." Muttering to herself more than to Graham. "Headaches, has been throwing up, so Lionel said… can't diagnose it until he's had an examination." More muttering, as she let her slippers slide off her feet and she sat back in bed, setting the book on her lap and opening it quickly, thumbing through the pages.

Graham growled. "Stupid bloody id'it." He sighed. "Been havin' the bloody things fer years, but doesna want t'take anythin' fer 'em. Thinks takin' a pill means he's crazy, and he's death'y skeered o'it."

"He hates pills because that's what his therapist put him on after the rape. He took them for years, he told me." Toni muttered, offhandedly, as she looked back down at the book, found what she'd been looking for, and quickly scanned it. She reached to the bedside table and took out the pad of paper and pen she kept there, and scrawled her notes down as she brightened the bedside lamp with a touch of the button.

Graham reached right over and jerked the notepad, the pen, and the book out of Toni's lap. "Wha' di'je jest say aboot uh'rape?" He growled it.

Her eyebrow rose. "The rape, Graham. Don't be thick. And give me back my damn paper, I need it."

"I'm no' bein' thick!" Graham threw the paper and the book into the floor. "Tell what th'ell yer talkin' aboot!!"

Oh. Oh, Christ. A vital misstep somewhere, and her eyes widened when she realized her own mistake, and her own disbelief. "You don't know?"

"DUN KNOW WHAT!" he bellowed.

She jerked... and winced, very quietly. "I can't tell you. I can't... he told me in confidence."

"Ye bloody well will tell me, Toni Braxton, b'cause he's m'bloody bruther, n'matter if he's a thunderin' id'it or not!" He growled as he pulled himself up, and glared at her directly in the eye.

Excuse ME? She glared back at him, darkly, and retorted coolly, "A week ago you wouldn't have cared if he lived or died."

"Isna true! Aye, he's an'id'it, an I wan' t'crack open his bloody 'ead, boot he's still m'brother, and I bloody well DESERVE T'KNOW!" He thundered the last part of it at the top of his lungs.

Shane, from his room, gave a loud sob. Someone was screamin! HE WAS ASCARED!

Toni's glare darkened and she rose, pushing her slippers back on and stomping into the adjoining room, where Shane was screaming and crying in his crib. She quickly leaned over and lifted him up into her arms, cradling him close as he wailed, and shhed him gently with tender kisses along his cheek. "Its okay, big man. He's just mad. There we go, shhh. Stop crying, baby."

Graham threw the sheets off and stomped behind her, naked as a jaybird and he didn't give a shit. "Shaney boy, it's okay," he said, forcing himself to lower his voice. "G'back t'sleep, boyo." He brushed his hands over Shane's hair gently.

Shane gave another loud sob, a sleepy one, as his daddy stroked his hair, and he snuffled, softly. Okay. It was okay. They was just ascreamin'. He got that, and when his Toneeeey laided him back down, it was okay. Another sniffle, and he snuggled up under his blankie, clutching his sippy cup.

"There we are, sweetie. Shhh... go back to sleep." She gently cradled him close, tucked his ratty teddy bear against his cheek, and grasped one of Grahams mountain arms, tugging him back with her into the bedroom. "Keep your voice down, Graham."

Graham jerked his arm out of her grip and glared at her as he closed the door to Shaney's bedroom. "Aye, an'll do it when ye've bloody well tol'me wot in th'ell is goin' on wi'me brother! Or d'I hafta go'n ask him m'self?" He went to the closet and threw it open, starting to pull out clothes.

"You are not going to go pestering them at their house at two in the damn morning, Graham Senatori." She snarled back. "He's got enough to worry about without his ass of a brother screamin' at him. He dreamt about you, and me, did you know that? That's why he was in such a panic, because he saw us dead. So shut your mouth for a half a second and listen to me." Another glare. "I'm his doctor. He shared what he did with me through patient/doctor confidentiality. Its against the law for me to tell you what the hell is going on, do you understand that?"

Graham snarled himself and slammed the closet door shut once he had pulled out jeans and a brown-checked flannel shirt. "I dunna care aboot th'law, Toni. Care aboot my bloody ox of a bruther, an'if yer no goin' t'tell me, then I'll get m'answers from him." He stomped to the bedroom door, and picked up his boots, and hauled them back to the bed as he started getting dressed.

Fuck. FUCK! The both of them already had enough, and she snarled as she thunked Graham over the head with her book, then did it again for good measure. "You stupid, gigantic, brute of a man. I can't stand you. Get out! GO! Get out right now! I don't want to see your damn face."

"Tis fine wi'me!" he stomped back over to the closet, and jerked out his work bag, for overnight jobs when he'd need a change of clothes, and packed enough clothes for a couple nights into it, threw it over his shoulder, and stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"I don't fucking KNOW why I ever let you talk to me, Graham Senatori!" She yelled back, and ran after him, slamming doors just as hard as he did. "You want me to be truthful, to love you, to take care of you, but when I hold a confidence with one of my PATIENTS, you stop talking to me, LEAVE me, because I'm doing what I'm supposed to do! FUCK YOU! Fuck you and your goddamned temper, and fuck you and your whole goddamn family!"

She threw the book she'd been holding at him, then snatched up a candle from the hall table and chunked it at him too.

"Yer th'bloody one yellin' a'me t'get out and ye dinna wan' t'see my face!" Graham bellowed back, stomping down the hall and ducking the various thrown objects.

"Because you're a goddamn bloody, ignorant ASS!" She screamed back, and threw another book from one of the side tables, followed by a crash of one of her little knickknacks against his head.

"Aye!" he yelled, tossing his bag down at the top of the staircase. "I dinna care aboot yer patients Toni, ye know that, but Morgan isna just yer patient, woman, he's my brother!"

"If I tell you his secret, then nothing, nothing will ever be the same between you again. You won't trust him, he won't trust me, and everything will be ruined. Don't you understand?"

Graham stomped back halfway down the hall. "Toni, my darlin', I love ye desperately, but ye dinna know HOW I feel about m'family!" he bellowed. "Our Da died when Morgan was a wee laddie. I bloody well raised him, as sure's I raised Shayla, Riley an' Miss Meggie!"

She grit her teeth, tightly, and gave him a shove, to keep him back, right in the middle of the chest. "If you tell them, any of them, if you tell one soul that I've told you this, I will fucking rip out your tonsils and feed them to Arnie, are we perfectly understood and clear? Three lives depend on you never, ever, ever letting on that you know this. I know, Lionel knows, Lex knows, and Lindy knows. That's it. If you tell a soul, I'll kill you myself."

"Who the bloody hell am I goin' t'tell?" he demanded, letting her shove his chest and then crossing his arms across it.

"Your mother." Toni glared. "Lionel."

"I havena talked t'my mother th'harpy and I dunna intend t'start now," he glared. "And I willna say a word t'Li'nel or t'Lindy."

The anger was replaced by a fear, a terrible anxiety, as she squeezed and wrung her hands, before motioning that he follow her. She walked into the kitchen, pointed him to a chair, and got out the big jug of milk from the fridge, making them both her favorite comfort drink--cold chocolate milk. She squeezed a little bit of extra Hershey's in his, quickly mixed them, and set it before him, taking her own to her seat as she fidgeted. "He'll kill me. Christ, I can't believe I'm going to do this." She ran her hands over her face, up into her hair.

"Ye have t'tell me, darlin'. He's m'brother, and I even luff him, d'spite th'fact I'm gonna cave in his skull." He reached across the table and squeezed her hands. "Tell me, darlin', cause what I'm thinkin' is got to be worse than the truth o'it."

She looked up, her chin trembled, and she almost burst into tears. Almost. "Its so much worse than you can imagine, Graham." She cleared her throat, closing her eyes tightly shut for a moment. "He and Lionel told me, because Dominic has the occasional problem with his blood pressure. But..." She bit her lip as tightly as she could for a moment. "Graham, when he came to work for Lionel, three of his coworkers drugged him, took him to a motel on the outskirts of Metropolis, and raped him."

"Bloody shite." Graham dragged his hands through his hair. "D'ye know who did it?"

She nodded. "They've been taken care of. Lionel made sure of it." She grasped his hand. "It happened fifteen years ago. He's over it, he's moved on. I don't want you saying a goddamn word, do you hear me? Not a word, Graham." She glared at him. "I'm only telling you this because he had nightmares at the time, and they've been escalating and getting worse over the years."

"Bloody hell. Stupid man, takin' care of it all and no'leavin' a bit fer me." He raked his hands through his hair agan, and then squeezed Toni's hands tightly. "No' goin' t'say a word, darlin, not til he wan's t'tell me hisself."

"He won't. He only tells people when he absolutely has to." She looked up at him, quietly, and squeezed Grahams hands again, gently. She was so fucking tired, and she just took a drink of her chocolate milk, and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"T'ings are makin' s'much more sense now," raham sighed. "Little barstid, canna believe he wouldna tell us." He sighed. "Willna say anythin'."

"If he finds out I told you, he won't ever forgive me." She reached forward, for his fingers. "You Senatoris are full of pride, Graham, baby. So, so full of pride. If he finds out I fucked with that... Christ."

"He'll no' find ou'from me," Graham said, linking his fingers with hers over the table. "Willna say a word."

"Still angry at me?" She asked, softly, and looked up with tears in her eyes.

"Nay, darlin', I'm no mad at ye." He squeezed her fingers gently.

"Not mad at you, either, baby." She said softly, and squeezed back as she climbed to her feet, and carefully slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Didn't mean what I said. I love you, baby."

Graham wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling her and her pregnant belly in against his chest. "I love you too, m'darlin'."

"Come on to bed?"

"Aye," he said softly, keeping her snuggled in as he stood up, the added weight of the baby inside of her nothing to his tree truck arms, and he swept her up. "But only if ye go wi'me."

- = - = -

Jor-El had had a relatively quiet day, which he was more than thankful for. He'd worked through nearly half of the library he'd been allowed to explore, and his mind was teeming with information that he'd assimilated. Words, language, culture, belief systems, fiction, non-fiction, nearly everything known to man was being catalogued in Jor-El's brain and the ship's memory processor as he read book after book.

He'd taken the time out to watch the yellow sun lifting over the horizon, feeling the heat spill into the little room through the high cathedral-type windows, and felt the rays kissing his skin.

Halfway through the night, he'd discovered the stereo in the wall, and after a quick scan of the information accumulated from Kal and Kenep, Jor-El was able to operate the machinery with little problem. There was a surprisingly diverse selection of music discs beside it, and he had dutifully listened to each one. He did not like the thundering, pounding, screaming beats of someone called Aerosmith, but the clear, clean vocals of a child named Charlotte Church soothed him. The complex melodies of Chopin, of Bach, and of Beethoven pleased him mightily, and there was a disc there also of Irish music that made his body sing with memories. The bright notes of the flute, the piccolo and the harp reminded him of the music created by Lara's crystals, and the hauntingly beautiful voice singing in Gaelic was a mystifying counterpoint to the music. The music he found he liked best, though, was an unlabeled disc that had been sitting dusty in a stack to the side. The quality of the recording was not the best, but the piano was beautiful. It was a repetition of other music he'd heard before--they were all movements by Chopin, but they were played not by a professional, as the earlier CDs had been, but by someone who obviously enjoyed the music and understood the feeling and emotion behind it.

It was this he listened to the most as he read, and he was sitting with his back to the door, feet propped up on the sofa and carefully devouring sections of fruit as the CD stopped, and then restarted itself again.

Chloe was tired. Truly. Honestly. She was sad, and heartsick, and a little *more* sad, but seeing Shayla had somehow fixed most of that. They'd hugged for a while after Chloe spilled her guts on what happened, and she was still red eyed and sniffling as she walked with her friend. They were looking for a good decanter of whiskey, some that Lex usually hid in his office, and they walked, arm in arm, towards it.

In it.

And saw a man sitting in the chair across from them.

Well, the back of him, anyway. Stunning waves of dark hair, powerful shoulders, and Chloe squeezed Shayla's hand once.

Clark was asleep on the couch across from the one with the man, head tucked on a pillow, snoring softly.

Shayla... just stopped. Looked at Clark. Looked at the back of the head and the broad shoulders, and looked at Clark again. "Am I like, seeing things, or is there another guy sitting on the couch there who's like, built bigger than Man Mountain Kent?" she asked with a little blink.

The man in question took up most of sofa, and that was sitting sideways with his back propped up against the arm. And it was a BIG sofa.

Jor-El turned around at the voices, and gave them a smile. "Hello," he said softly, as custom dictated, and then he leaned forward. "Kal? Wake up; we have visitors," he said, even softer, and shook his shoulder gently.

Clark shifted... curled close around his pillow, and slept on. Rousing a sleepy alien was akin to trying to make N'sync less gay.

Chloe gripped Shayla's hand, and her mouth dropped, as she looked at Shay, mouthing, he's bigger than Clark. And he was. Clark was huge, but somehow, this man was larger, sleeker, and devilishly handsome. What Clark could be, in another ten years. She nodded, shyly at him, and spoke in a tiny voice. "Hello. Are you... Jor?"

Jor-El gave up trying to wake Kal for the moment, and turned around entirely, putting down his book as he faced the two little girls. When he rose to give them a bow, he had to stifle the laugh. He stood nearly a foot and a half taller than the small one, and almost a full foot taller than... "You are Chloe, aren't you?" He walked over to her as he spoke, and his hand stroked her cheek. "Yes, I am Jor, and you are just as beautiful as Kal has told me."

Shayla's eyes were huge as dinner plates in her head, and she was trying to blink comprehension in her head.

She blushed, crimson, her cheeks lighting up softly as she looked down, nodded, then back up, very shyly. "I am Tanaka." She whispered softly, and gave a soft bow in respect to him, not knowing where the hell any of this was coming from, but going on instinct anyway. "Kal has told us so much about you, but he failed to mention how handsome you are in person." Another shy smile at him.

Jor-El gave a soft laugh. "I don't believe that the aesthetics of my appearance are foremost on his mind when he thinks of me." He held his hand out towards the couch he'd just vacated. "Please, come, be seated. You are heavy with child and should be resting yourself. There is room and refreshment enough for all." He gave the other, smaller girl a grin too. "I have not forgotten you, Shayla Senatori."

Squeak. Somehow, this man knowing her name was kind of like Principal Asskick knowing her name. "How.. how... how... who? What? Who?"

Chloe suddenly blinked... then smiled, and hugged the linked arm with hers. "Its okay, Shay. This is Clark's dad. His real dad. His name is Jor... long story, I'll tell you, okay?" Another smile up at the man, as she nodded and led her darling friend to the couch. "Come on, sit. Clark? You awake?"

Another low snore. Didn't even move.

"Guess that answers that." Chloe muttered, even as she sat on the couch… sighed, deeply, as the tension eased out of her back, and shifted back comfortably.

Shayla reached out and kicked Clark's elbow, the only part of him in reach, and then hopped for a moment as her foot smarted. "Shit! Gotta remember. Don't kick the brick wall." She flopped down on the couch beside Chloe, and turned huge eyes on Jor-El. "You know, he's better looking than Big Daddy." Little sigh. Then it penetrated. "Wait. Whoa. Clark's real father? That's kind of like... not possible, right?"

Jor-El reached out, and as Chloe slid back comfortably, he swept his hand down her spine, pressing in at the base. Almost where Clark's tail bump would be, but all it did in Chloe was give a little pop, and the compressed vertebrae at the coccyx relaxed and loosened the muscles of her lower back. And then he smiled at her again. "It is a trick my wife taught me," is all he said, and he looked back at Shayla. "Please do not kick my son. He will wake up in his own time. But yes, I am his real father, and as Chloe has said, explanations will come in time."

She gasped… her eyes widened, and she all but melted into the couch. Oh boy. She looked up, softly, giving a little gleeful smile, and sighed, deeply. "This is the first time I've been this comfortable in months. Thank you, Jor." Another beam at him. "Clark told me you're his birthing parent... he is so proud of that. He told me how proud he is to be a birthing parent, as well." Then another grin at Shay. "he is very handsome, I agree." Then back to Jor, big eyes up at him. "Would you like me to get my aushna?"

Jor-El smiled. "It's a rare honor, for a male to be a birthing parent. There are--were--few families at the time who were still able to; the El family was one such. All males borne of the El line could bear children, and the children born from male birthers were honored and treasured as it meant the blessing of the family was still carried forth into that next generation and the blessing would continue to cause the family to thrive."

She blushed again, softly, and beamed up at Jor quietly, her lips quirking as she looked at him. "Its a beautiful thing. Its unheard of on the planet earth, but maybe, after Clark and Lex start having children, it won't be anymore." But then her eyes saddened softly, as she looked at Clark snoring on the couch across from them. "He will be able to, sha'madol? To have children again?"

Shayla was just watching the exchange, eyes as wide as they could be as she was just listening and comprehending. Holy crap. Pete was going to die when he heard about this!

Jor-El nodded. "Of course he shall, la'man. Kal-El will always be able to bear his aushna' children, never doubt that. He has passed his final maturation cycle; he has shed his last skin, and his body has grown to it's final proportions. On the day that is a year from the end of his last shedding, his body will be prepared to carry children." He leaned forward as he spoke. "It is like I have read in your world's books... Kal's body was not yet ready to support his children, just as... say a child on your world who is twelve years of age is not ready. But when she has matured, she is able to carry a child to term."

Her eyes widened, softly, as she listened. "I want to ask you so much. Shayla? Will you go get Whitney, please?" She asked of her friend, gently, even as she rubbed her belly softly, a habit she'd picked up lately, to calm the kicking, rambunctious baby, already moving around in his five months of life. "It will be safe, sha'madol?" A little tremble, and a shiver. "I don't ever want them to go through what they did. It was so sad, so very sad." She looked up again, eyes filled with tears. "They deserve."

As if he agreed, Clark snorted, coughed, and rolled over onto his other side, snuggling in with his back facing them now.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Blink of big owl eyes. "On the double." She stopped halfway to the door. "It was great meeting you,... Mr. El? Jor? Jor-El?"

A grin that looked suspiciously like Clark's spread over Jor-El's face as he reached over and rubbed his sleeping son's back. "Jor will be fine, Shayla, thank you."

Shay took off out of the library in search of Whitney, and that left Chloe and Jor-El alone.

"It will be safe," Jor-El reassured her. "They do deserve, and they will have. More than they have bargained for, I expect." His eyes twinkled. "When males give birth, they are born in pairs. Kal's birth-twin was named Kon, and he died of the same thing that caused Mar-El to die. Since they have had the tragedy of a first lost birth, I believe their next birth will give them two healthy children."

Chloe nodded--she didn't have to ask. She just smiled, gently, as Clark slept, and looked up at Jor quietly, softly. "He and Lex have been through a lot. Not just because of Mar... but because of a lot of things. I think they're finally healing now… they seem… more themselves with one another than ever before. They came to see us yesterday, and our time together was as comfortable as it had ever been." Didn't have to flower sex talk with Jor up--she knew he knew what sha'nauch did together. "It is an honor to have met you, sha'madol. I don't believe you will ever properly understand what having you here means to Clark."

Jor-El gave another smile at that. "You remind me so very, very much of my Seva. She was my ashikana, much as you are to Kenep. You have her mind, her outspoken nature, and her inability to hide what she was thinking." He touched her cheek again, and let his hand drop. "And yes, to answer you, they are mending. I didn't find everything in my link to Clark, because I did not wish to invade his thoughts, but I believe that most of their difficulties have been surmounted." Then he gave a little smile. "Except for one that currently troubles my son."

At that her eyes widened, and she bit her lip, tightly. "I know what troubles him, sha'madol, and its my fault. because I do have an inability to hide what I think and feel, and in doing so, I believe I hurt Clark's feelings." She bit her lip, softly, and looked at him with furrowed brows. "Its a long story I'm sure he'll tell you about. I wish now that I hadn't reacted as I did." A quiet, quiet sigh, and she nibbled on her lower lip again as her fingers reached for his, and gently touched his hand, cupping the much bigger palm under her own.

Jor-El's larger hand engulfed hers. "There are many things that my son does not understand, because he wasn't given the chance to be raised among our people. But one of the things that we are taught is that to take our own pleasure over that of someone we care for is to destroy that person, to dishonor whatever bond that we share with them, whether it is of wife, aushna', or sha'nauch. But we are also taught that honoring ourselves, doing what must be done to provide for ourselves, our own well being, and our mates' comes first. And when the two are conflicted, then there is a division of the... your word is soul, but the term ka comes closest to it. The ka is every essence of the person, and it divides into two halves, self-service and service to others. Only when both sides are calmed is the situation resolved."

"Ka." Chloe murmured quietly...then nodded, tightly, and looked up at him. "I'm not like that. I'm a horrible person… I thought only of myself, then him, afterwards. I was just so upset, and so angry... but I'm not angry at him, just the situation. He... Clark was offered something I've wanted my whole life, and I can't... stop him from getting it. I don't want to stop him, even if I'm some petty little girl who can't--" She stopped and looked up, as Whitney stepped in. "Hi, baby." She offered her fingers to him. "There's someone I'd like for you to meet."

Whitney shifted his weight briefly as he ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his shirt. Of course he hadn't taken the time to dress up slightly to meet his boyfriend's father, because that would be ridiculous, but he was still determined to make a good parental impression if it killed him. "Sorry I took so long." He jogged quickly into the library and took Chloe's hand, kissing her knuckles lightly and then giving an instinctive little bow towards Jor-El. "Hello. I'm--"

"Whitney, yes, I know." Jor-El stroked his sleeping son's shoulder again. "I have heard quite a bit about you from my son. I am Jor-El, ghana of El and Kal's father. It is a pleasure to meet you, nam'en."

"'men." Clark muttered, when a big, warm hand moved over his back... and the feeling was so good, something deep in his soul so overjoyed at it, that his eyes flickered open. He looked at Chloe, sitting there on the couch with her belly round and curved, and Whitney, bowing, and blinked twice, even as he looked up at his father. "Mmm." He muttered, quietly, and let his eyes close for a moment so he could regain his senses. Opened again and he yawned, deeply, stretching even as he blearily sat up. "Uhgn."

Chloe watched as Clark woke up, quietly, with a dull burning in her throat. She didn't say anything, just squeezing Jor-El's fingers gently, and looked up at her boyfriend, as she smiled at him. "Hey, baby. Sit here next to me… beat Pete at Dynasty Warriors yet?"

"Twice," he bragged. "I kicked the shit out of him the second time." He reached out and nudged Clark's foot with his. "Hey, sleepyhead." Then he turned back to Jor-El. "The pleasure is mine, sir."

Jor-El laughed, then, a deep, baritone belly laugh. "I don't believe I have been called sir for many many years, young man. There is no need for it now. You may call me Jor, or sha'madol, whichever is more pleasing to you, and I will answer it." He rubbed over Clark's back again as he woke, and then stretched. "You wake like the k'thana beast, my son; slowly and sluggish, but deadly in seconds should the need arise."

Clark looked about as deadly as a kitten, and blinked owlishly at his father even as he looked down.

Tiny, tiny black eyes looking up at him, and be beamed, leaning down to lift Samson into his arms and cuddle him in. He yawned again, sleepily, and cuddled into the couch with Samson in his arms, kissing his floppy ears and smiling into short fur when Samson huffed and lay his head on his shoulder.

Chloe grinned, then, as well, though it was a small one, and looked up at Whitney, before across at Clark. "He isn't a morning person, sha'madol. And by that, I mean he takes a little while to wake up."

Jor-El laughed at that. "Then you have not changed that much, my son. You would not wake for your mother or I in the mornings; you would sleep until noon and greet the sun in the morning before you slept." He reached out and gently ruffed the ears of the puppy in his son's arms. "I see you have found a Pet here as well."

"Hey, he's not that bad," Whitney said, defending his ashimel. "He's just like me. He appreciates the night more than the day. Besides? Waking up is a bitch. Being awake is fine. It's just that time where you actually like, have to open your eyes and know that you're not sleeping that you gotta shake off."

Blah blah, Pet, blah blah, bitch, and he didn't listen to a word, just smiling at his father and nodding. He yawned, deeply, then whistled in the high pitch that nobody could hear but him for his other two little pups.

WHOA! THE WHISTLE! Cleo's nails scrabbled for purchase on the hardwood floor before she took off, racing and bounding as fast as she could as she skid, listened... heard the whistle again, and gave a joyous bark. She ran into the big place that was stinky and gave another slew of happy barks, racing and jumping up on her Clark's belly. "ARF! ARF ARF ARF!!!" YAY!

Whoa! Cleo! Samson leaned over and started chewing on Cleo's ear, growling softly as he shook his head with his teeth in her ear, and pulled, watching her fall on her head. Dumb girl. Served her right for headbutting him all the time.

Artie gave a little burp as he raised his head out of the food dish, lapped up a drink of water, and plodded down the steps. Run? Him? Yeah, right. His butt landed on the floor at the bottom step and he plodded into the library, only tripping once over his own ears and flopping down on Clark's feet and looked up. Okay, here I am, what do you want?

Jor's eyes widened. "There are three of them?"

Clark finally grinned and nodded, even as he popped Samson in the butt. "No, no. Don't bite Cleo." He reprimanded, even as he sat up, dumping both squirming puppies on the cushion beside him and smiled, slightly more awake, at the three of them. As memories fled back his smile faltered, and he looked down from Chloe's intent gaze, before back to his father. "Samson is this one, with the blue collar. He's my first dog. Cleo, his sister, has the pink collar, and this chubby guy down here is Artie." Clark lifted him up, gently, and set him in his fathers lap, as he was the most gentle of the three, and smiled up at his dad softly. "He won't bite you. He's a good doggie, isn't he?" A little nuzzle to Artie's ears, before he pulled Cleo and Samson apart again.

DUMB STUPID BOY THING! Cleo growled, then yelped when her daddy popped her too, and she gave a howl of sadness as she cried. "Arrooooooooo!"

Samson yelped and cried like a little baby when Cleo headbutted him again, and then howled when Clark popped him. "AWWWWwwwwwwwoooooooooooooo!!!!"

Artie just heaved a sigh. Stupid headed brother and sister. He put his head out on the big man's knee, and looked up with big brown puppy eyes. And then he gave Jor-El's hand a lick. C'mon. Figure it out, big dummy. Pet the pooch.

Jor-El obliged, and started to stroke the puppy's fur gently. "He is a good dog. Sweet tempered and full of himself. This one knows that he is the king of the castle, I'd wager. No running about for this gentleman." He kept petting, and received another lick of approval from the dog in his lap. "You seem to have your hands full with those other two."

Whitney wrapped one arm around Chloe's shoulders and pulled her close, and his foot reached out and rubbed up Clark's calf. "Don't be angry with each other," he pled softly.

Oh. Hey. Cleo stopped mid sob and blinked at the Other Person sitting there, with her bruder. Heeey. He was new! But he smelled kinda the same, and she jumped off the couch and walked over, tipping her head quizzically. Huh. Weird. She gave him an experimental lick, his leg anyway... blinked again. Hmmm.

"He's a good dog." Clark repeated, with a smile. "They all are, when they're not killing each other." He lifted Samson up in his arms and pet his head, gently, scratched his ears, even as he sighed at him, and tried to ignore that Chloe and Whitney were talking beside him. "Dominic has a cat, too, but Freddie never answers to my calls."

Jor-El leaned over, and peered down at the little dog in the pink collar. "Hello, Cleo," he said quietly. "Would you like to come up here and sit with your littermate?" He patted the couch beside him in invitation, and then turned to look at the one that his son was currently cuddling. "How do you manage three dogs, a cat, the occasional child visiting, all these people, and a baby on the way?"

Cleo blinked. Whoa. He had said it perfect! Like the Clark! She understooded! She barked happily and jumped up on the couch, between the yellow lady and the Big Clark Kinda, and snuggled in against him, plopping over shamelessly for a belly rub.

"I have a lot of help." Clark said softly, as he finally looked at his sha'nauch, and quietly offered his fingers to Whitney, to come sit beside him.

Jor-El laughed softly as the little dog turned onto it's back and exposed her belly, and he obliged by rubbing it gently. "It seems that you do," he said softly. "I was just telling your ashikana of how much she reminded me of my own, Seva." He scratched behind Artie's ears as he carefully balanced the two puppies against him, scratching with one hand and rubbing with the other.

Whitney reached out and took Clark's hand, squeezing gently, but he didn't budge. "I can't be in the middle of you, Clark," he said softly. "Don't ask me to pick a side." He rubbed his cheek in Chloe's shoulder. "The same thing goes for you, Chloe. I love you both. Don't ask me to choose."

Jor-El just watched carefully, and turned his eyes back to the puppies. "Seva and I once competed for the same post," he said conversationally. "We both deserved it; we were both specialists in our fields, the first and foremost of both our fields, and we had both been nominated for the position." He scratched Cleo's belly right there in the center, and watched her little legs kick.

Clark let go of Whitney's hand after he spoke, and didn't look at him, instead training his eyes on his fathers as he cuddled Samson a little closer. "You did? What did you do?"

Ooohhh yeaaaah. Good rubs! Cleo heaved a thick sigh and got real still, so the rubs wouldn't stop, just kicking her foot out happily and snuggling in closer.

Chloe nodded, softly at Whitney, and kissed his cheek gently, even as her eyes fell on Jor. "What did you do?" She echoed, softly.

"We fought over it," Jor continued, as though there hadn't been a pause. "And some of it was bitter; perhaps made worse because Seva was to me what Whitney is to you," he said, directing it towards Clark. "Or Chloe, what you are to Kenep." He scratched the puppy's belly again. "We nearly came to blows over it, but in the end, we were able to sit down and devise between us a solution. The solution we came to was that it didn't matter which of us got the posting and which didn't, because we would both benefit from it. If she received it, then I would be happy for her, and I would be happy knowing that the posting went to a capable individual whom I could work with, and she knew the same."

Her chin trembled, very softly. "Even if it meant getting hurt, and hurting your sha'nauch, Jor? You are so strong… something like that could never spawn from me. I'm... too human, maybe. Though I want to try again." She looked across the coffee table, at Clark, who wouldn't look at her. "I love you, ashimel. I don't want to fight with you... I don't want to feel like this, and I don't want you to feel like you have to say no to it. Its the best thing that could ever happen… I'll kick your ass if you don't take it."

Clark looked up, then, sadly at her. "I want it, Chloe. More than I can breathe."

Jor-El nodded, and put Artie down, on the couch beside Cleo, so that he could take Chloe's hands in his large ones. "Strength is a character quality that I know you have, or else my son would not have chosen you for his own," he said softly after she had finished speaking. "What you are not realizing is that whatever unhappiness you are feeling now, Kal is feeling it tenfold. That is our way. He is feeling his own unhappiness, and yours, and more of his own for displeasing you." He squeezed her hand. "Be patient with him. Remember what I told you about the division of the ka. He does not yet understand this." He gave her hand another squeeze, and turned to Clark. "And you, my son, listen well to what I will tell you. Your ka, the essence of who you are, is divided by this. I know this. Only you can reconcile the division, and that is by doing what is best. You know that our people believe that to take their pleasure above others is almost a sin, and you are right. But what you have not been taught, simply because you are not of our world, is that there is some measure of self-consideration to be thought of. If you do not take this post, then how will you live with your aushna'? From what you have told me earlier, it will give you a place in his world, and not just an outgrowth of his. If you do not, how will you live with your sha'nauch, knowing that you have let them down by failing to care for yourself?"

An almost physical horror took over Clark's face as he thought of the pain and suffering he would give his sha'nauch and his aushna', the worry he would cause them, and his throat constricted as he gazed at his father, silently, for a long, long moment. "I do not wish to hurt my sha'nauch, father, or my aushna'. I don't want to take what she has dreamed of for so long from her... that is unforgivable. How could I enjoy, when I know she is heartbroken?"

Jor-El sighed. "The heartbreak will not be permanent, Kal." Here he shot a stern look towards Chloe. "Or at least, it should not be, not in a worthy sha'nauch." Back to Kal. "What you must do is to look inside yourself, truly look, and see the balance that you feel. Can you stand living for the rest of your days knowing what you have given up for your ashikana, and not come to hate her for it?" And then to Chloe again. "And you, la'man, could you stand living out your days knowing what Kal has given up for you knowing that he might hate you?"

"I could not." Clark said very softly, as he looked down at the hand his father held, gently, and squeezed it in his own. "I couldn't live, father, knowing she had taken that from me." It ached for him to say such a thing, but as he looked up at her, he saw the same reflected in her eyes. "I couldn't live like that. I know myself."

"As do I." Chloe murmured, gently, and let go of Jor to gently cup Clark's cheeks in her palms, and angle his beautiful face towards her. "I love you, ashimel." She murmured, as she stroked his cheek gently with one hand, smoothing his curls even as he looked at her with such sadness. "Take it, Kal. Take the job."

Jor-El sat back on the couch as he listened, and he smiled with pride at both of the young people on the couch in front of him. He wouldn't dare to speak now, to influence the decision before it was made, but he rubbed Clark's back gently as he watched.

Whitney leaned forward at that, taking one of Chloe's hands and one of Clark's hands, and squeezing them both. "C'mon, guys... listen to him. He's a smart man, please." He tugged Chloe's arm first, and then Clark's.

Clark swallowed, hard, his throat constricting for a moment as he stroked Chloe's fingers in his, gently, and in her eyes, he saw her truthfulness. In it, he saw her happiness for him... in it, he saw her jealousy, but that it would pass, and she would one day feel happiness for him. And in it, he squeezed her hand gently in his, and nodded, even as he reached forward to brush his lips across hers and bring her into a firm, loving embrace. "I love you, ashikana."

"As I love you." Chloe whispered softly, even as she smiled and rubbed her tears away, gently stroking his face in her palm.

Finally! Whitney let out a little whoop of joy and all but danced in his seat at that, and just grinned broadly.

Jor-El leaned forward and wrapped an arm around both Chloe and Clark. "You are strong, ashikana, and you do my son honor by your strength," he said softly. "And you, Kal, could not have chosen sha'nauch better suited to you than these." He kissed Chloe's forehead gently, then Clark's, then Whitney's.

Chloe just positively beamed, though it was a shy beam, and her eyes twinkled softly as she smiled up at him. "You are most appreciated, sha'madol." But she blinked, and looked around the library. "How are you enjoying the library? Clark said you haven't come out yet... do you find our civilization terrible?" A giggle.

Clark smiled himself, and offered his fingers gently to Whitney again, imploringly, asking with his eyes for his snugglies.

Whitney moved in a flash that time, curling up on the couch beside Clark, one leg over his lover's as his arms snuggled tight around Clark's waist and his head on Clark's shoulder. Couldn't stop the shit-eating grin from widening his lips as he rested his head there, and gave a little lick to Clark's throat.

Jor-El gave Chloe a very pained expression. "I find your civilization to be rather... primitive, in some respects, and advanced in others."

Clark snuggled in, totally unabashed in front of his father, though he blushed even as he cuddled Whitney in close to his chest and kissed the top of his head, snuggling him gently into his arms and beaming. Then laughed, outright, at his fathers face. "That bad, father?"

Chloe grinned, as well, though she looked at him serenely. "Surely, you don't think a society that has brought people like... Shakespeare, Mozart...hero's like Martin Luthor King so primitive?"

"I think that any society who discriminates against people in it's own infrastructure for such little things as skin color, sexual preference and religion is hopelessly primitive," Jor-El said. "Your people have had shining stars in their history, I do not argue that, among them the men you have named. However, the most of your history is bathed in the blood of your fellow humanity, and it is not that distant. Two centuries ago, your people shot each other in the streets over gold nuggets and women; today, your people shoot each other in the streets over pieces of clothing and allegiances to... gangs, are they called? Three centuries ago, your people of this country had to fight a war to separate from another country holding them hostage. You had civil wars less than two hundred years ago, where people fought over the rights to make decisions for themselves rather than have decisions made for them by a governing and ruling body that existed miles away from their situation. Those same people were barbaric enough to own their fellow humans, and you wonder why I believe your society to be hopelessly primitive? Krypton overcame these obstacles millennia ago, thousands and thousands of years, by your reckonings."

Chloe tipped her head, and listened, quietly, for a moment. "We're pretty bad, sure. But we're also not as advanced as your people were, not by any measure." She thought again, quietly. "I won't deny we've done bad things, but... we've also done good things. There were bad people, that started wars. But there were also the people who believed in something more, in something better for our people, who stood up and fought for it."

Jor-El looked at Chloe quietly. "Can you tell me that my son and his aushna' won't be reviled for being lovers of the same sex, should their relationship become public knowledge? Or will they be condemned by some as being unclean and unholy?"

"No. But just recently, that's been changed, too. So that maybe their children, and the children after them, won't have to go through what they go through." She tipped her head. "You can't count our world for the bad in it, sha'madol."

"I don't, la'man. But you asked. I believe that there are good things in this world, and I know that I have seen some of them in my few days on this world. But I also believe that there are far, far more bad things than good, and in that, Krypton was more advanced than your world."

Her teeth ground. Tightly. "Perhaps. I like to think that we... as the human race, are more alive for the pain and suffering we have gone through, than other people, sha'madol, and please excuse any insult I might give." A moment. "For our pain and our suffering, for our trials and tribulations, we have stood up, time after time, and shown ourselves to be brave, proud, courageous, kind, and have a hard set of morals in our souls. Nothing else could have made the American people join the second World War, or made me help a lady up on the street yesterday who fell, after being pushed down."

"You give no insult, la'man," he said softly, "though it is I who should be asking your pardon." He listened to her thoughtfully. "If I remember the things I have read correctly, the American entry into the second World War was precipitated by the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, after which the American government had no recourse but to rise to the challenge and avenge the attack and defend itself from further harm. It wasn't the mass genocide of an entire religious sect that moved the Americans to join the war, it was self-motivated. You would not have had to help your lady up from the street had she not been pushed down, likely by someone who gave no care to her, or to anyone else in their path but rather to their own motivations and selfish needs. Any civilization that is so driven by the selfishness and self-motivation of it's people cannot be anything but primitive until they realize that they are part of a larger scheme, a world, a universe and that there is a greater good that must be achieved."

She glared. Couldn't help it. Didn't care abut pissing the big alien off, right now. "You judge, and yet you do not know. What's written in history books can't tell you what our people are, sha'madol." She pointed, to the enormous John Waterhouse painting hanging over the hearth. "How can a civilization that created that be barbaric? How can a civilization that created the chair you're sitting in, the music you're listening to, if it were barbaric?" She glared at the books. "You've been reading the wrong books, Jor-El. You need to read books, now, on the perseverance and determination of earths people, the struggles we have gone through, and the beauty that has shown from within. We are a complex and distinct civilization, and I will *not* have some stuffed up, snotty books telling you differently." A sniff, a raised nose, a glare.

Clark's lips twitched, just a little. "Upstairs. Lionel and Dominic's library. Its filled with every novel you could imagine. I think father would do best to read... mmm... canon, sure, but, you know, the good stuff. Steven King. The Joy Luck Club. Harry Potter. Those are great books. Plus, Lionel's got about a hundred art books up there, and about six book cases filled with music."

"Shakespeare. Plays, sonnets. And the billion books that have come from it. First order of business." Chloe harrumphed, and crossed her arms. "I'm getting Lex to toss out half this crap eventually."

"What is written in history books is what has already passed, la'man, and in that which has passed do you find that where you are going. Your future is found in your past, because the mistakes you made before are being repeated, over and over again. From the Crusades and the Inquisition to the bombings in... Israel, I believe you call it and even the recent attacks on your... twin towers?" His brow furrowed. "World Trade Center." He nodded. "Your world has not learned from the mistakes of it's past. It's repeated, over and over again, despite the pain and the terror brought in previous years and centuries. It is as though you are all children who pay no attention to the adults around you and are doomed to grow up repeating their mistakes in your own fashions." He got up from the couch and pulled down one of the folios of Grecian art that lay in the library, and he opened it to a page at random. "Look here, at the artistry in these pieces, the detail. The stories that are told." He fetched another book, more artwork, this time by Monet. "Look here, at the story and the shadows, the impressions that are given despite the lack of clarity in the pictures. These artists, these people, yes, these are worthy members of your civilization." Then he got up again, and pulled down more books, tossing them on the tables and opening them to pictures of the concentration camps of Dachau and Auschwitz, to the carnage of the Civil War battlefields, bloodied stumps of Vietnam veterans who were rejected when they came home, and finally, to pictures of the collapse of the World Trade Center. "But these are the barbarians, who's primitive ways and bitter evils threaten to overwhelm what promise these magnificent people show."

"Perhaps, Jor-El, if this civilization is so primitive, bitter, and evil, then you shouldn't have sent Clark here. Because he was raised by bitter, primitive, evil people, and socializes with primitive, bitter, evil people, and hell, he's even going to get married to an extremely bitter young man who has a past so checkered that he could be his own quilting bee." She stood up... it was an effort, but she did it. "If you find us so lacking, then maybe you shouldn't have come." Yeah. So maybe she was pissed off for her people. And damn well she should have been. "There are useless wars, and useless fights, but if we dwell on that, we die on the inside. We have our families, we have art and history and music, and then we die, Jor. If you incriminate us on our crimes of thousands of years ago till now, we'll be in hell before you're over. Now. I'm going to go, before I say something I really regret." A glare at Clark and Whitney, staring at her, who hadn't even bothered to offer any help to her, and she turned, storming out, tears clouding her eyes.

Clark winced. "Back. In. The. Doghouse."

"I would rather have seen Kal-El raised by your people than have his light die," Jor-El said firmly. "Because any life that he could have been given was better than his death. I came not to help your people, la'man, but to be with my son, because he has need of me. Through my son, I am connected to you and to your lover Whitney, and to Lex," he said to her retreating back. "But know this, Chloe Sullivan, Earth is a primitive place, despite the beautiful things it might have. I do not mean to insult you, but it is true. Krypton was not a perfect society; we had our flaws, among them stubbornness and the refusal to believe in one man over a mass, and it resulted in our planet's destruction. Do you think that you could be strong enough to send your child away, to a world where you knew not what would happen to him? Or would you be selfish, and let the child die with you?"

Whitney just shook his head gently. "Man, I don't even know. My history exam was like, one point from flunking. You think I'm goin' up against a powerhouse like your father? Hell no."

"That's where you're wrong." Chloe shot back, snarled more like it, as she pointed at him. "You do not understand the human soul. I hope you look at it, and soon. Because in it, you'll find all the answers to your questions and more. No, your people weren't perfect, because I simply cannot fathom a society where such arrogance goes unchecked, a planet you say that had wars and fought its battles millions of years ago. Want to know something, Jor-El? Human society has been around for less than three thousand years, and in that time, we've gone from living in caves making fire with sticks to flying in space. Can you speak that of your people? Can you say in three thousand years they leapt in their evolutionary process?"

"Chloe." Clark said softly, and shook his head. "Father. Both of you. Please, don't fight."

"You say that you fly in space, daughter?" he asked softly. "Then why is there terror in my son's soul at the thought of revealing his true origins? If your people are as tolerant as you say they are, if they are as advanced, and capable of such rapid adaptation, then why is there fear in his heart? If your people are as wonderful as you would have me believe, why are there deaths every day, of people killing each other over trivial reasons, why are there people who kill themselves rather than exist for another day in this world?" Jor-El's face was calm and serene as he spoke. "In three thousand years, as you say? We had our great wars, and we had our advancement. We advanced to the point of the Great Isolation, which was one of the largest mistakes Kryptonian society ever made. But in three thousand years, we looked at our own progress, and the progress of the peoples we dealt with, traded with, merely observed, and our leaders in that time realized that our progress had outweighed that of others, when they still killed each other over dirt, la'man, and nothing more than the possession of it. Therefore our leaders isolated our peoples from other societies until such time as they had advanced past their needs to kill one another."

"Soil is freedom." Chloe snarled back. "Soil is freedom and love, and it should be fought and died over. We have fought and we have died for our country, time and time again, our protection, our freedom, our civil liberties and our very lives. Soil, you say? It is the most beautiful, wonderful thing that any human being could ever want to have, anyone could ever dream to have." She pointed a finger. Fettle? Chloe? "As for Clark revealing his origins, Jor-El, we are isolated, we have never had contact with an extra terrestrial, we have never in the history of the world had a world wide acknowledgement that aliens do exist. If Clark were ever to speak of where he's from there would be a worldwide panic, because we fear what we do not know."

"Soil is nothing but dirt, daughter. Dirt is where you grow food to feed your people, build homes to house them. You have an entire world of it; why must you STILL to this day, shed blood over the possession of it? Dirt is what your children play in, and what you wash off of them at the end of the day, when they come home to you. Dirt is nothing but dirt, and the possession of it meaningless. If you will judge people by the dirt they possess, then you judge them wrongly, because there are good men and women who do not own dirt." He accepted the pointed finger without pause. "You are putting holes in your own argument, my daughter. Listen to yourself. We are advanced, we fly in space, and yet we're isolated, and we fear that which we do not know. Don't you realize what an abstraction that is, what a contradiction that is? Fear of the unknown is a hindrance; it is the desire to know the unknown that makes people grow, and seek understanding. Not fear, not hiding under the bed when the monster knocks, but facing it and learning from it, whether or not it defeats you."

Whitney raised his head just enough to whisper in Clark's ear. "They're giving me a headache."

"Father..." Clark tipped his head, because he had the feeling Chloe would gut him, if she had laser vision, and he met his eyes squarely for a moment. "Earth, here, is very precious. To own it means a lot to people, no matter who they are. Land, dirt as you say--it isn't the physical thing. It's what having that land stands for. Freedom, integrity, peace. To build your home, and have your family, and grow and prosper and live and die. Land is very important. There are human beings that are bad, I'll admit it just like anyone--its not an opinion, its a fact. But what you have to understand is... just because these bad people have done some bad things, doesn't mean that the other sixty billion people who have come and gone on this earth have done bad things, too." Another pause, as he thought. "Human beings... they're very complicated. Very, very complicated. But once you understand them, and what drives them, they're a beautiful species. I love them, very much so, for the… humanity they've given me. They humble me. Even in diversity, they flourish." A little smile, at Chloe, then, even as she seethed at him. "They are very passionate, very beautiful. Even when they fear, they explore--even when they know they could walk into death, they do it, for the others of their race. You're so new here...you don't understand yet. But you will. And you'll understand why they're so wonderful."

"You know what, Whitney? I heard you. And you had better shut up, because you are totally in the dog house. Got it?" Another seething glare at him.

Whitney glared back. "I don't care if you heard me," he shot back. "This arguing is giving me a headache. You know why? Because it really doesn't matter. Clark's right. In the grand scheme of things... Jor, no offense here, but you're like, two days old. It's like Lex trying to argue molecular physics with me. There's such a huge gulf of things unknown and not understood yet that it's all just..." he paused, trying to come up with a better word, but in the end, he shrugged and used it anyway. "... bullshit."

Chloe sniffled, again, because as her anger was coming down, yeah, she was going to cry. "I'm sorry I yelled." She said softly, at Jor-El, and her chin trembled. "It was bad of me. I'm sorry. Whitney's right... you don't know everything yet, and I'm getting mad at you for being from somewhere else. I just went down a level." Another sniffle.

"Screaming one minute, crying the next. And next on....the World Turns." Clark muttered, and earned another glare.

Whitney just rolled his eyes. "I live with it," he muttered again, this time for Clark's ears only. "And I've got four more months of it to go."

Jor-El shook his head. "There are no apologies needed, daughter," he said softly, and held his arms out to her. "You do not need to apologize for holding a different opinion than I do, nor do you need to apologize for your method of expressing it."

She sniffled again and reached out, snuggling into his arms and hugging tight, even as she gave a soft cry in her throat and burst into tears. Maybe she'd just met him, but she felt like she'd known him forever and ever and she cried all the harder for it, hugging him tightly.

Jor-El wrapped his large arms around her shoulders and held her tightly, careful of her stomach as he hugged her and rested his chin on top of her head. "It's all right, my daughter," he said softly. "You haven't disappointed anyone, don't worry." His hand stroked over her hair as he comforted her.

Clark's mouth dropped, as he watched, and his eyes widened at Whitney. "You poor bastard."

Whitney buried the quiet snort in Clark's shoulder. "Tell me about it."

- = - = -

Pete was kicking some serious ass in Dynasty Warriors. Really. Though about fifteen minutes after Whitney had disappeared, he'd stretched out languidly on the carpet, Shay's extra jeans a pillow, and flipped channels, leaving the game on on the TV channels even as he flipped the VCR channels. Nothing on. Positively nothing. Not that he could relax, of course, because he was thigh high in nerves and jitters. His clothes, a dark blue shirt that had short sleeves, black pants and shoes. He was immensely comfortable in it and knew he'd do a good job.

Shay was so good now. He just prayed she didn't flip out on him when they went to the auditorium.

Shay squeezed back in the door. She'd just taken Whitney downstairs and dropped him off outside the library door, and then scooted back up to the bedroom. She locked the door behind her, turning the key and dropping it on her bedside table, then she threw herself on the floor, head in Pete's lap as she looked up. "You... are never going to believe who I just met."

"The Dalai Lama?" he looked down at his belly, wriggled her, and yawned as he flipped another channel.

"Clark's father."

A very Pete-like eye roll, as he flipped the channel again and shifted comfortably. "Shay, you saw him at the Grocery store yesterday. You had a debate with him on cheese. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember, and I remember hitting on him when I first came to Smallville cause damn. Nice ass for an old man." And she grinned. "But that's not who I met."

A little glare, and another wriggle. "I thought my ass was the best. But nooo. You think forty year old men have nice asses. So much for my self esteem." He snickered it at her, even as he sat up, taking her with him, and leaned back against the footboard.

She thunked the back of her head against her shoulder. "I didn't say he had a better ass than you, just that he had a nice one." She glared. "Pete... I met Clark's father," she said again, stressing it.

The thunk made his brow raise up, even as he peered at her. "Jor-El, you mean? Met him early this morning when I helped Mrs. Kent get the fruit delivered. Nice guy. Kinda handsome, too, or so Clark's mom said." Eye roll.

She smacked his arm. "Peter Isaac, you knew he was here and you didn't tell me?!?" Oh, he was in the serious dog house for that!

"Well, yeah. OW!" Another thunk and he made a face at her. "I thought Chloe had spilled her guts out to you already! How was I supposed to know??"

"SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW! She was as shocked as I was to see his ass sittin' up in the library like he owned the place! But at least SHE knew who he was!" Another thunk to his arm with her head.

"Shay!" Pete caught her arm as she swung for the third time, and as easy as anything wrestled her into a position where she couldn't kick and hit him, arms around hers, pushed against his chest. "Hush it, girl! Jesus Christ!"

Shay squirmed under Pete's grasp until she was a little more comfortable, and then she pouted up at him. "I am hushed!!" she bellowed.

"Right, that's why you 'bout blew up my eardrums." Another wrestle, and he held her close, panting with the exertion of it. "Now. You gonna hear me out or what?"

"Depends on what the or what option is," she said primly.

"Or Ima have to spank your ass black and blue." He growled in her ear, then let her go, and rubbed the bruise he knew he'd have on his bicep before tomorrow morning.

"Oooh, in that case, I definitely pick the or what." But she wiggled up to sit back beside him again.

He snorted at her, got comfortable against the footboard, and yawned, deeply. "Now, like I was saying, 'fore you tried to claw my eyes out, I met Jor-El this morning. I was helping Mrs. Kent unload her groceries, and he was in the kitchen, talking to Ms. Bird. Asking how a blender works. Clark's mom nearly gasped in half the air when she saw him, and she got to talking to him as he helped us unload."

"Thought I was just the last one to know, again. Thought ya'll knew, and just hadn't said anything yet."

She aimed a half-hearted kick at him, and then crawled down to the footboard to curl up beside him. "No way. I wouldn't leave you out again, you know that." She rubbed her hand over his tummy. "A blender, huh? I am dyin' to know how the hell he showed up here."

"Dunno. He didn't want to say too much, front of me and Ms. Bird, I don't think." Pete nodded, even as he set his own hand atop hers on his stomach, and shifted to snuggle her closer, as he picked up the remote again.

"That Ms. Bird's a cagey bitch. She knows a shitload more of what goes on around here than anybody thinks she does, but she won't say jack shit about it. I should know, I've tried to question her about shit before and holy Christ, Pete, it was like tryin' to pry a pearl outta a clamshell."

Pete grinned at her, even as he set his cheek on her head. "Of course she is. She's worked for this whacked out family forever, hasn't she?"

"Whacked out? Baby, you can still call the Luthors whacked out after you spent a holiday with my family?" She snorted. "But yeah, she's been with 'em forever and a fuckin' day."

"Yep." But Pete smiled down at her, even as he squeezed her arm gently from where he was holding it, gently thumbing the soft skin on top as he pressed a kiss to her cheekbone. "Hey baby? Tonight... want to…" A soft flush.

"Want to get naked and do the Watusi in a tub of whipped cream? Yep." She craned her neck just a little to lick along the flush of his cheek.

He snickered at her. Wickedly. "Tonight's the last night we'll be able to, till the dance. The tension is good on your muscles... keeps them flexible and moving, fast. Which is definitely what we want."

She fell off the bed at that, and peered up at him over the edge of the comforter. "You're tellin' me that I'm not gonna be able to sleep with you again until AFTER the weekend? That's like... DAYS!" she lamented.

"Three days." He said serenely, and put both his palms on his belly, blinkblinking at her with all the innocence in the world. "Saturday night is when we'll be able to do it again. Do the literal it."

"THREE WHOLE DAYS!" Bellowed at the top of her lungs.

Innocent stare. "No masturbating, either."

She glared from her perch in the floor. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

"Nope." Another grin at her, as he rose a brow. "So we gotta get it out of our systems tonight." And maybe in the next ten minutes, if he could make sure Whitney wouldn't be barging in with Chloe.

"You realize that like, Saturday night, your ass is mine?" She scooted up close to Pete, rubbing her nose against his as she got on her knees beside the bed.

"Of course." He rubbed back, smiling up at her, and gave her an upside down kiss before he looked back at the TV. "Jesus, there's nothing on. Ever. We could hit the vid store tonight, too, get some movies? I've been dying to see that movie about the phone booth, with Colin Ferrell."

"Or, we could work on working all that energy out, so it won't kill us in the next THREE DAYS!" She couldn't help shrilling it.

Innocent glance up at her. "Shay, Shay, Shay. You've been without sex before, babe, haven't you?" An innocently raised eyebrow, as he tugged a pillow self consciously over his lap.

"Only once, and only for a VERY good reason," she huffed, climbing back up on the bed. "And I don't EVER intend to be without it again."

Yeah, Pete knew, but his eyes were still innocently wide, even as his little sex kitten growled behind him. His cock? Really liked that. Really… really liked that, in fact.

Shayla's arms snaked around Pete's neck and she growled again. "EVER," she repeated. "So your three damn days? Can just get over it. Cause I? Am not gonna be without you that long."

The little growl had his grin broadening... who's wouldn't? He kind of liked having his girlfriend crazy in lust for him, and so did various other parts of his anatomy, as he looked up. "Oh, come on." An amused, teasing voice. "Sex can be done without."

"Says you," she growled again, nipping at his earlobe. "I say... no fucking chance, baby."

"No chance you'll be having sex?" Raised brow, amused curve of his lips, even as the nip made him shiver, as his eyes slit with Mya doing her love is like whoa on MTV.

"No...," she purred softly, sliding her hand down his collar and inside his shirt. "No chance that I'm going to be doing without that long." One little leg came around to wind around his waist and squeeze.

A very low, very quiet purr, as he looked up at her, tipping his head back as her fingertips grazed his nipples, and had him jerking and moaning softly in his throat. "No chance? At all? Can't wait for... three… miserable... days?"

She gave a little growl and bit his throat as he leaned his head back. "I can't wait... for three miserable minutes." Another bite a little further down as her hand stroked in little circles. "Much less... three lousy days."

Pete jerked… then moaned again, softly. Ever since she'd taken him she'd gotten much more adamant about taking the seductive role when she wanted to, and it pleased him immensely, as his cock twitched under the pillow, and made the pillow move the smallest bit in his lap. "Whitney… Chloe, Shay..." His teeth flashed as he looked up, even as he groaned and pressed her palm into his nipple through his shirt, giving a tremble at the feeling. "Like that… scratch... yesss..."

Shayla crooked her fingers and gave little scratches across Pete's pebbled nipple when he asked for it, and she nipped his throat again. "Chloe and Whitney are tied up with Clark's father downstairs. With Clark. And the dogs. And my bedroom door is locked. And Lex is at the Plaza all day working." She kept scratching lightly, over one nipple and then the other.

"I'm supposed to be… fuck… stronger than this." he muttered, as his hands came up over her thighs, backwards and upside down but who cared, but then... breasts waiting for him. But... also... scratching against his nipple, which he liked. Fuck! Alright. He slid her hand out of his shirt by just lifting it up over his head, half standing, toeing his shoes off, and grasping her, pressing her back against the blankets sideways and crooked as he claimed her mouth for his own.

Shayla gave a little giggle as she rolled as Pete pushed her down, and she wiggled under him until she was at least right side up with him and returned the deep kiss. She loved the way he tasted, and her tongue pushed in deep to take it, licking and sucking as she rubbed her body as much against him as she could, her hands held down by his hand on her wrists.

He purred, deeply, softly, as he dove again for her mouth, again, and pulled her arms up higher before he leaned down and claimed one breast through her t-shirt, taking as much as he could in his mouth and sucking. She didn't wear bras at home, thank God, and he sucked until he felt the nipple peak, and bit it through her shirt, grasping it tightly and tugging even as he ground his hips down into her hot little channel.

She was breathless and giggly when she spoke, and her words came out into little pants. "But oh... I thought... you were fan... of not having sex," she teased, even as she raised her hips up to meet his, grinding back against them as her nipples hardened under her shirt.

"Sex is good. Touching is good." Fire PRETTY. Pete sucked on her breasts, then up, to her neck, as he let her wrists go to yank her shirt up and suck on the real flesh underneath. His hands molded down on her hips and ass, raising it up to align right there, and he thrust against her at the perfect angle, even as he moaned around her breast. He half rolled on his side after he did so and yanked at the buttons on his jeans even as he kissed her, his free hand streaking up into her hair as he pulled at his jeans.

She giggled again and it turned into a groan as his mouth touched her nipples. Her back arched, and she slid her hands down his sides, over his ass to squeeze tightly, and then she moved them around, stroking over his fingers as she unsnapped the button and then pushed his zipper down, her cool little hand reaching inside to guide out the stiff column of flesh that was so hot to her touch.

Oh fuck. A hard, long moan, as his ass still burned with the squeeze she'd given it, and he shuddered, shivering as he arched into her touch and groaned. On the groan, his hands were going insane, and he used them to yank down her little shorts,. They hit her knees and he couldn't wait anymore, just rolling back on top of her and sliding in as was physically possible. Deep, deeper, rolling his hips until he could slide in to the balls, and he smirked down at her, even through foggy eyes. "Hold on."

He arched his hips back and thrust forward, hard, beginning a steady, hard pace, fucking because it felt good, his hands filling themselves with her breasts and thighs.

Shayla squealed again, but it was a deep, satisfied noise as Pete drove into her, and she moaned. She planted her feet on the bed and lifted her lower body up, arching her hips so that Pete could push deeper into her than he had before, and her hands rubbed over his chest, palm cupping his pecs and nails scraping over his nipples as her neck arched, her head tossing gently as she moaned under her lover.

"Like that, baby?" He growled into her throat, as he moved. Over and over, pounding into her in quick, but long, thrusts, moving because it was so good. She was so wet, so hot, delicious and tingly and it made his teeth grind tightly, as he swooped down and kissed her. Heavy, long, desperate, and incredibly in love. He kissed her because it felt good to kiss her, and he all but dived into her mouth with each hard kiss.

"Love it, Pete, love you, please, harder, please." She whimpered every word of it, hand reaching behind her to brace herself on the footboard as they rocked together. With the additional bracing behind her, she was able to surge up harder, push back more forcefully against his thrusts and she moaned in ecstasy with each deep thrust into her wetness.

Pete's tongue was incredibly slick and delicious, and she sucked it hard, vigorously, stroking her own tongue over it just as she would have his cock, giving his tongue little blow jobs with every kiss as she grunted into his mouth.

Oh, Christ. Pete moaned, deeply, into her mouth and lips. He sucked on her lips, her tongue, even as he moved against her, inside of her, over and over and over. His fingers went down, to rub quickly, gently, but thoroughly against her clit, even as he grit his teeth and moved faster, grunting with the exertion as he did it. Over and over, now, so good, oh yes, and his hips worked hard, muscles flexing in his thighs and back as he did it, hidden under jeans still laying half across his backside. It was so naughty and dirty having sex like this, with her shorts still half on, her shirt pushed up around her neck, and he moaned, deeply, at the mental image he gave himself of how sexy they looked.

Breathy, panting little squeals as Pete rubbed against her clit, and her hips jerked hard with each rub against the little nub. Her head tossed again, side to side as she sucked out hard, deep kisses from Pete's mouth. She could feel her breasts jiggling on her chest, a sensation she'd never noticed before but loved the feel of, and she tightened the muscles of her sheath around Pete as one slightly calloused finger scraped against her clit *just* the right way and she came with a little shout.

She squeezed against him inside...then viced, and Pete was counting back from a hundred as his eyes rolled, and he stayed still inside of her as she came, giving short little jerks until she loosened enough for him to keep thrusting. He was so close, so very fucking close, and he groaned deeply as he stroked, moved back and forth, harder, bracing himself on his elbows as he kissed her, hard, and with one more little ripple of her sheath and he was done. He came, violently hard, letting out a deep, long, very heavy cry as he sank into her depths and let himself explode. Climax was absolutely unbelievable and he trembled, hissed, and shivered as he thrust it out.

As soon as she felt his cock jerking inside of her, her hands slid down to his ass and kneaded firmly, rubbing the palms of her hands over his cheeks, pressing him closer and deeper as she did, the backs of her fingers scraping under the denim and she didn't care. She just gave a breathy giggle as she raised herself up, rubbing her body against his, biting his throat again and sucking hard.

"Oh, fuck." He breathed as he gasped, and lay his head down on her breasts, eyes wide before he closed them, tightly, and moaned. They hadn't even moved, his legs were hanging half off the bed, and he thanked God for good knees as he trembled and lay against her heaving chest. "Uh, God. Shay, so fucking sexy."

"So are you, my hot little tamale," she said, licking up his cheek and biting his earlobe as she whispered into it. "You're the sexiest man I've ever seen." Then she buried her giggle in his shoulder. "Except for maybe AJ. But only when he's doin' his thing with Clark."

Pete trembled, all over, half in pleasure, half in disgust, half in the smallest seeds of arousal as he thought about it. He looked up, a little, and blushed under his skin softly. "Watched the tape you gave me for my birthday."

"Yeah?" She beamed. "Did you like the special features?"

He purred. Deeply. "They're so hot. Its still gross, but wow."

"Yeah, I know. They're like... okay, apart, but when they're together, they're yummy." She rubbed her face against his purring chest. "But I like you better."

"I like you more." He murmured, and gently tugged her close even as he slid out of her, with a low, quiet sound, and because he was evil like that, he tucked her panties and her shorts back up onto her hips, brought her t-shirt down over her swollen breasts red and streaked from his hands and mouth, and murmured, "Ridden hard… put away wet. Like knowing you're sticky and hot because of me." And as if his body agreed, it shuddered in pleasure as he tucked his own wet cock away.

She giggled. "I always wondered what that would feel like." She rolled over quickly, so that she was straddling his hips, and she finished zipping him up as she wiggled and got her own outfit situated.

He didn't know if she really understood how hot it made him, that she was wet and sticky and full of him, but he moaned, very deeply and heartfelt as she got on him, and his fingers stroked over her crotch in revelry. "You're so sexy. So fucking hot."

She leaned over and licked his face, from his chin to his forehead, right up the middle of his nose. "You're so sexy too, baby. I lose my mind when I see you sitting there in class and I can't do anything about it."

He was eighteen years old. Had he mentioned? he had the recovery time of a rabbit. he purred, deeply, long and softly, and was almost about to unbutton himself and have his wicked way with her, again, when the door knocked, and his eyes widened. "Yeah?"

"Its Chloe! Hey listen, Whitney and I are on our way to get some food, wanna come?"

Food. Sex. Food. Sex. His tummy rumbled. His cock twitched.

"Chloe? Honey? I love you. Your timing blows." She slid her hand down over his cock, but then laughed at the rumbling of her lover's tummy. "Let us get dressed, and we'll be right out, kay?"

"Oh, my God! You two were totally about to have sex! GROSS!" She shrieked through the door. "I will totally be waiting downstairs. Five minutes!"

"Don't you GROSS me young lady!" Shayla stormed to the door and shouted through it. "You're the one who was just telling me how good it felt to have sex with Lex and Clark again, because you hadn't in so long, so don't you EVEN go there!"

Pete's mouth dropped from the bed, and his eyes widened at the door. "Clark and Lex?"

"SHAY! I so hate you! UGH!" Chloe shrieked again. "I'll so be downstairs young lady!"

"Kay! We'll be in a few!" She turned and bounced on her heels. "Yeah, her and Clark and Lex and Whit, remember?"

"Just didn't... she's really pregnant." He looked up at the door as he listened to her storm away, and sighed, softly, even as his hips wriggled. "Shay?"

"Yeah, baby?" She crawled back onto the bed, and rested her hands on his belly.

"Will… will you.." He sideglanced at the black bag sitting by her nightstand. "Fuck… fuck me?"

Her eyes widened, and her fingers stroked his rumbling belly. "Yeah, I will... if you're sure you want me to." She smiled. "I'd like to."

"Yes." A low moan. "Quick fuck. I think... I'm ready again. Will be by the time you get it on. I want… to be as wet as you." A tremble at that, another low moan, and he unbuttoned his jeans, yanking them down his hips as he spoke.

"Okay." As his cock revealed itself, she couldn't help pausing for a quick suck, then a lick down the length as she slid off the bed, shimmying her panties and shorts down with little wiggles of her hips and ass, and then she picked up the bag and pulled out the harness and the strap on that went with it.

She'd gotten used to working the snaps and buckles, and she quickly slid it on, yelping once as the shorter dildo entered her and nestled inside of her slippery sheath as the larger one thrust out from her hips, and gave her a little tingle as she stroked her hand over it as though she was jacking it off.

Pete had rolled over onto his belly, his jeans down around his knees as he bent over for her...then groaned, deeply, softly, as she stroked the cock, and he moaned, deeply, as his fingers shook. He was still bare-chested, thank God, and he concentrated on his nipples, and not the hard cock between his thighs, hardening and thickening as it swung down from his hips. "Christ. Fuck. Please, come on, fast Shay, please, hard and fast, want."

"You're so sexy when you beg," she said with a wolfish grin, and she got the lube from the side table, slicking her cock and her fingers at the same time, before sliding them in and stretching. Quick and fast, but carefully like she'd been taught, and in moments, the slick, blunt head of her cock was rubbing over his entrance, and then she pushed in. Gripped his hips and pulled him back to help her impale him fully, and with a little yelp and a thrust of her hips, worked the cock completely into Pete before stroking his back. "Like that, Pete?"

He wailed. Couldn't help it. Just wailed, sobbing out into his arm, which he bit into to keep the screams at a minimum. it was hot, tight, hard and thick inside, and he rolled his hips back into her touch, wincing as his stretched muscle moved to accommodate the dildo, and shuddered, all over. "Yes… yes, pl..." Couldn't talk anymore, just swallowing a grunting groan and bucking back into her for her to move. He got down on his elbows, baring himself more for her, and trembled, hard.

She gave a gleeful grin at that, and started moving, riding the dildo that thrust inside of her as she snapped her hips, pushing deep into Pete and then pulling back out again, rotating her hips occasionally to move the dildo around in both of them so that his body got stimulated just as much as hers did. Her nails sunk into his flank as she pulled him back, getting him to move with her as she started to fuck him in earnest.

"Yes, please...yes, yes, oh G-God, please, YES!" He cried out into the blankets under him as he pushed back against her, moving fast and hard. It was delicious, the edge of pain making the pleasure all the sharper, and he wailed into his arm as his palm came down to grasp his cock hard and stroke it as she moved. "F-faster, faster, please, HARD!"

She moved as hard as she could then, throwing all of her weight behind each push in and wrenching herself out, her nails scoring his thighs lightly as she hauled him back again and again, pushing as deep as she could and letting go long enough to land an experimental slap on his ass.

A sharp, loud cry echoed from him at the slap. His entrance viced around the dildo when she did it, sending a shock of pleasure to his crotch, which then radiated all through his body. He shuddered, all over, and reared back into the dildo, squeezing it tightly as he shut his eyes as tightly as he could.

The tight squeeze of the dildo caused the mirroring one to jerk inside of Shayla, and she gave another pleased yelp as she popped his ass again, pushing hard and rocking her hips in deep each time, popping with each pull out as she leaned over his back and bit his neck.

And there he went. His orgasm exploded from him in sticky strings and his fingers rushed down to squeeze his cock, hard, as he came, wailing into the blankets under him as he bucked and moved, pressing back and forth against the dildo faster, faster. "Oh, God! GOD YES!" He cried it, loudly, hard, as he stroked, and all his body trembled.

Shayla squeaked loudly as the bucking of her lover caused the dildo inside of her to ram deep, pressing the base against her clit and she came hard, almost out of the blue as her eyes rolled back in her head as her hands rubbed Pete's shoulders, watching him come.

A very, very long, very, very deep, moan. His cock felt spent, his ass hollowed, and he was wet, greasy, sticky. And the thought of sitting like that through lunch with Chloe and Whitney made him shudder all over, as he slumped forward onto the sheets without being able to help himself.

She leaned over and licked his neck where she'd bitten. "They're going to be waiting for us; we've got to get ready in a hurry," she whispered, sliding the fake cock out of him, and tugging his jeans up as she did it.

He gasped as she slid out of him and moaned again, softly, deeply, swallowing a hard breath as he did it and shuddering all over again. His muscles were watery right at the moment and he just rested against her sheets, eyes closing as he fought for even breaths.

Shayla saw and unbuckled the harness, letting it fall to the floor with a thump and she crawled over him, curling up in bed beside him as she snuggled her head against his.

Pant... gasp. Quiet sound as she pressed in close, and he shuddered all over as he wrapped a heavy arm around her tiny waist, dragging her in and cuddling up, deeply. "Nughn." He muttered, as if completely obvious what he was saying, and snuggled in to her chest.

"Food, baby. Lunch?" she asked softly, wiping her hands clean on the sheet then rubbing them over the tight curls on Pete's head. "Chloe and Whitney? Any of this ringing a bell?"

His tummy grumbled again, but he didn't even notice as he peered at her. What was this Chloe and Whitney that she spoke of? He didn't know anything but his woman, his thumping ass, and his spent, cuddled cock, lounging in his pubes like a cat. "Tired."

"Hungry," she protested as her own stomach rumbled, and she laughed. "Come on, lazybutt. Nothing comes between a Senatori and her food, not even the love of her life." She tugged on his hand.

Yeah right. He was stuck at the moment, because he was pretty sure he couldn't move. Refused to move. He just yawned, deeply, and shuddered as his whole body triggered at the delicious movement, and he moaned again. "Fucked me."

She leaned over and licked his ear. "Yeah, baby, I did." She rubbed over the small of his back. "And it felt so good."

"Yeah?" He cracked one eye open to look at her, as a rush of pride flew to his heart. "Did good?"

"Oh yeah." She kept rubbing his back, and down over his ass, which was half covered by his jeans and half naked. "You did great. I? Did great too, because it felt so good."

A wracking shudder through his body. "So good." And now he let his other eye open, as he let himself smile at her. "I like being a good lay."

Her lips spread in an easy grin. "You're a great lay, Peter Ross, and that's because... I love you." She nipped his nose. "Food now. Feed the rumbling belly."

He sniffled. "I better be a good lay for more than that." A raised brow, a wicked little grin, and he finally came back to his senses, the sweet, harmless, helplessly relaxed and pleasured expression sliding into a more wicked one. "And I love that belly."

"Oh, there's a lot of things that make you a good lay. But the main one is that I love you, and because I love you, you can do no wrong." She rubbed his back one last time, and then rolled off. "C'mon. You can love it all you want. Feed it before it eats you whole."

"Check." A moment. "You know, a minute ago, being sticky and wet during lunch was sexy. Now?" He made a face. "Lets take a quick shower, hmm?"

Shayla laughed. "Okay. But quick before Chloe goes and gets Lex's master key and barges in."

 

-fin-

go on to the next part