At Home with Clark and Jim

[stands_for_hope]

[continued from here]

They'd fallen into a routine pretty easily.

Clark had managed to write up something about the church bust without incriminating either of them, which meant that his Perry had been pleased enough with his work for the day and had only yelled at him for five minutes about his failure to show up in the office the whole day. Lois had ribbed him a little, which had been remarked upon as she usually gave the new guy hell if he did anything remotely out of the line, and then she'd ribbed him a lot. He hadn't minded too terribly much since he had visited her afterwards at her apartment and she'd done plenty of kissing to make it better.

With a second person in the apartment, he'd started to fix it up a little, bringing home new linens, keeping the fridge stocked more regularly, and he'd even managed to find a new couch for them through a very kindly older woman and Craigslist.

True to his word, he'd gotten some rudimentary identification for Jim and he walked through the door with a spring in his step, closing the door behind him and plopping it down on the kitchen table with a smile.

Comments

[stands_for_hope]

"Perfect. Breakfast's on me."

Because he had plans.

"So's dessert. I'm gonna--"

He turns to look at his phone a second before it rings, a reflex he had to work on. Most people, after all, couldn't hear the electronics within responding to the signals. He walked over and picked it up and his face broke out in a bright smile.

"Hey Ma, how's-- Dusty did what?" he turns and holds up a finger before heading over to the main living room area, nodding along to whatever it was Martha was saying before covering the mouthpiece to look at Jim.

"She's been staying with my Aunt Carol." He smirks a little, "She doesn't exactly get along with Aunt Carol and Aunt Carol's dog is this tiny toy schnauzer--"

He pulls back and starts listening to the phonecall in earnest before breaking in with:

"Yes, Ma. Yes, I'm-- yes. Jim made a roast. Yeah, he got us a crock pot, made up a fantastic roast, almost as good as yours. Oh yeah, I'm-- Yeah, Ma. I'm just running out to grab something. Lemme see--"

He covers the mouthpiece again.

"Did you want to speak to her?"

[kolodnoykovki]

He'd said he would, but now that the opportunity was right there in front of him, he found himself unsure. But still, he had said he would. So he nodded, taking a breath. "I will."

He would need to put more tone in his voice. More expression. He would have to sound less...

Less like himself. Less worn. He could do it.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark smiles and holds out the phone to him, but he can probably already hear Martha chattering away.

"--just wondering what your favorite color might be," came the voice of an older woman, warm, with a slight southern twang to her voice.

[kolodnoykovki]

The half-statement... Well, it was enough for him to answer, even if he did wonder what the first part of the statement might have been. "...Black, I think," he said. "Hello, Mrs. Kent. I do think I prefer black, or at least darker colours. If that's what you're asking."

How long had it been since he'd spoken on the phone? Another question that fell in the realm of uncertainty.

[stands_for_hope]

She was quiet for a moment before she broke out in a playful chuckle.

"Well, then. I'll tell her I'll have a use for her black sheep after all," she told him brightly. It became clear where Clark's general attitude may have developed.

"I'm sure Clark's told you I'm Martha. You feel free to call me that or Ma. Mrs. Kent is my mother-in-law, after all, god rest her soul. I hope this isn't too weird for you, I don't mean to be a bother, but I just wanted to meet you as best I can with you out in Metropolis and all."

She laughed a little.

"Don't worry, no hard questions this time. Now, if you decide you'd like to come home for Thanksgiving with Clark, then I'm going to have to ask which kinds of pie you like, but that's a while off yet. Invitations open, though. Especially if you're as good at repairs as Clark's said. We're still working on the upstairs, after all."

[kolodnoykovki]

"It isn't a bother, M-- Martha." It was true - it wasn't a bother, for all he was still hoping he lived up to their expectations. Hope was new and a little frightening. "Clark's told me about his parents, and he always sounds so happy when he does. And I understand that his comparing my cooking to yours is high praise."

Repairs - he could, and would, he decided, do that. It wouldn't take him long, and he knew how to make things livable. A little hammering, a little plaster, some paint. Easy.

[stands_for_hope]

"Clark's a sweet boy, but he doesn't give praise if he doesn't mean it. We taught him not to play games like that. If you do come for Thanksgiving, it'll be nice to have someone in the kitchen to help cook."

It was pretty clear she wanted him home for Thanksgiving, but she was much like her son: not too apt to push.

"Anyway, sweetheart, I won't keep you too long, but good luck tomorrow. Tell Clark to make you something nice. If you like curry, he makes very good curry. He learned it while he was traveling. It's very good."

[kolodnoykovki]

The repetition of Thanksgiving and of Clark's curry being 'very good' had him smiling without knowing. "I'll keep Thanksgiving in mind. I don't really have anywhere else to be, and with... with how good a friend Clark has been to me, I'd like to be able to help his family out, just... because. So helping you with your upstairs sounds good to me." And it sounded like a possibility. A way to help repay the good that had been done for him.

[stands_for_hope]

"Wonderful! You tell Clark to look out for a package from me. I'll let you go, though. You don't need to waste your time on an old woman babbling at you."

Clark chuckled, since he could hear her as well, and he couldn't help keep the smile on as he watched Jim fall prey to his mother's cheer.

[kolodnoykovki]

"Martha, you aren't old or babbling, but I won't keep you. I'll tell Clark about the package, though. Thank you." It was proof that he could still have manners. Another anchor toward humanity. The simplest things, it seemed, made the most difference.

[stands_for_hope]

"You are too sweet, Jimmy. And you're certainly more than welcome. I hope I get to meet you soon, sweetheart. Now pass me back to Clark? I have to ask him about something on Dusty. Did he tell you about Dusty? I'm sure she'll love you too. She's always good with new people..."

Clark chuckled under his breath at his mother's inability to actually say goodbye but didn't hold his hand out for the phone quite yet.

[kolodnoykovki]

From what he'd seen, apparently he was much older than Martha Kent, but that wasn't really something to go into at the moment. "He told me a little about Dusty. A schnauzer, right?"

This, he thought, was looking like more conversation than he was good at, but he was going to try, even if he felt more and more awkward by the moment.

[stands_for_hope]

Martha's laughter rang like a bell.

"Oh no, that's Snowflake, Carol's dog. Dusty's our sheepdog. She's been with us since Clark was in high school. I think I can send a picture on this thing--"

There was a pause and then the phone dinged in his ear with a slightly blurry picture of an older sheepdog who was obviously trying to move while the picture was being taken.

"Did that come through? Clark showed me how to use it last time he was here but I only started using this thing when I had to leave the house since I don't want to put all those long distance calls on Carol's line."

[kolodnoykovki]

When the phone beeped, he blinked, then held it where he could see what was going on. Yes, that was a sheepdog. He nodded - then realised nods weren't audible. "I... honestly don't know how to use these phones, either," he said, "so you're more skilled than I am. She looks like a very pleasant dog from the picture. I never had pets."

The detail wasn't surprising to him, even as it came up. He remembered being an orphan, so how could an orphan have a pet?

[stands_for_hope]

"That's all right, honey. The important part is the people on either side. I'll just have to get Clark to bring you down soon so we can chat without all this technology in the way. That way you can get your feet warmed up by a lazy old sheepdog properly."

[kolodnoykovki]

"That sounds really nice, Martha. We... we're going to a baseball game soon, but after I get a job, we'll get some time off and... we'll visit," he said. It sounded like a good idea. It felt like a good idea. "But Clark's standing here, waiting, so I'll had the phone over to him. ...Thank you for... for everything."

[stands_for_hope]

"Oh honey, don't you worry about it. Clark's more patient than he lets on. He puts up with me, don't you know. You boys enjoy your ball game and I'll see you at Thanksgiving."

Because apparently, that was settled.

"You can hang up, dear. Clark and I finished up talking he passed me over. But you take care, sweetheart. Kisses for both of you."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Thank you, Martha. I look forward to meeting you in person. Have a good night," he said, and, after a goodbye in return, he figured out how to hang up. It took a little confusion, but he did manage, and he offered the phone back to Clark. "She's really nice," he murmured, slightly wistful. "Thank you."

[stands_for_hope]

"She put up with raising me for twenty years," he said with a warm smile as he took the phone.

"And you're welcome. Though you might not thank me once you get caught up in the madness of a Kent-Clark family Thanksgiving."

He slipped the phone into his pocket.

"Now, I think I promised you ice cream?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"You did, but you don't have to. I think I promised two visits to your parents' house." As he said it, he realised he wasn't exactly sure how that had happened, except that he had somehow felt like he belonged somewhere for once. He felt welcomed. He'd never anticipated that.

"And I don't think I'll have a problem at Thanksgiving. I'll have time to adjust by then."

[stands_for_hope]

"Nonsense."

He pulled on his jacket, more for appearances than anything, and headed for the door.

"Back in a few minutes. The store's just down the street."

And he was out the door almost too fast, obviously in a fantastic mood. Good food, his mother obviously liked Jim, and they were going to go for a baseball game this weekend. Life was, honestly, damn good.

[kolodnoykovki]

"All right," he said, watching after Clark with a little wonder. He wasn't sure what god he'd made happy today, but it had to be one of them, or he wouldn't be feeling this good at all.

It was an alien feeling - actually feeling good. But he wasn't going to let it go without a fight. Not anymore.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark returned pretty quickly with a large plastic bag containing more than a few pints of ice cream. After locking the door behind him, he headed for the table, laying out the options.

"We've got chocolate, good old vanilla, strawberry..." he looked over at Jim, "those are the big three. Then there's--"

He had to dig into the bag a little more.

"Sea salt caramel, rum raisin, and some mango sherbert."

Looking accomplished, he flopped into his chair.

[kolodnoykovki]

His brows raised. "Sea salt caramel? Why are they salting caramel?" It seemed he could understand rum raisin - that was sweet. And so were mangos. But he wasn't sure of this salting something sweet idea. Still, he got some spoons and bowls and came back to sit with Clark, peering at the pints curiously.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark gestured at the pints as if to say 'have at'.

"Let's see what you like first and then I'll attack the ones you're not interested in. I'm not too picky when it comes to ice cream."

He tapped the 'sea salt caramel'.

"I picked it up because it's a little out of the ordinary, but I liked it when I tried it. The salt does interesting things to the flavor."