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CrazyLana part 5!
Quickly, while my mind is actually filled with ideas, I’m going to post the next bit of The Half Nuts Princess. Speaking of titles or lack there-of…I intend to remedy that really soon! Really!
I'd like to thank![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladydey for the positive poke in the brain! Thank you for this part, my dear!
the rating is 3 for this bit.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Martha held the basket of muffins tightly; she kept her eyes straight ahead as she moved through the Talon. She was tired of well-wishers, tired of the pity in everyone’s eyes, sick of the vultures that waited to hear the worst. The rumors about her son flew fast and furious now, sympathy being replaced by gossip and malicious lies…*typical small town…crap!*she thought fiercely and tightened her grip on the basket. By the time she reached the counter and Lana, her knuckles were white.
“Hello, Martha, I felt so guilty asking you to bake when you’re certainly not up to it—I know that every day, it’s a hardship for me to go about my normal life while Clark’s missing, poor thing—I can just imagine how horrible it must be for you.” Lana’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Martha stiffened slightly. “Yes, I’m sorry for you,” she said and tried not to sound as cold as she felt. Could the girl possibly be that self-involved?
“Oh, how sweet of you to worry about me—that sweetness just runs in your family, doesn’t it. Clark’s just as dear as you are.”. Martha bristled—she seemed determined to speak Clark’s name as often as she could and damn it—every time Lana said his name, her heart beat faster, her throat hurt. She wished the child would stop.
Lana leaned toward her, a sad smile curving her lips, her eyes swimming with sympathy. Her hand curved around Martha’s and squeezed and for a moment it seemed uncomfortably intimate, the girl’s hand slid up her wrist, and pulled away.
She peeked under the towel covering the basket and cooed, “So, what wonderful things have you made for us, oooh, banana nut, love that, and pumpkin, oh how nice for the season---don’t you love it when the leaves start to turn, and all the children get so excited about new school clothes, I remember all of us so excited to get the latest fashion, except for Clark—strictly a flannel boy, that one—oh! I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me!” But she seemed to glow, her eyes seem to sparkle and Martha felt a stab of…anger towards the girl.
Lana looked at her, mouth turned down and sighed. “Mrs. Kent, it hurts me to see you so full of pain. I’m sure Clark’s fine, I’m sure he’ll come home when he realizes how much he’s hurting everyone. Clark’s always been a little self-centered. You know what I mean. He’s a boy full of secrets, isn’t he?” she took the basket from Martha and set it on the counter, turned back to her with a big smile and her sparkling eyes. “He’s so capable of taking care of himself. I just know he’s fine and probably thinking of us right now, I can just feel it!”
I just feel like smacking that grin off your face. Martha felt more and more angry—it felt like the child was baiting her, but why…she glanced down at the counter, where Lana was brushing crumbs away. Her ring flashed in the light and Martha managed to swallow a gasp.
“Oh, you like my ring?” she said when she noticed Martha’s gaze “Isn’t it darling?”
She held it up so Martha could see it better, and it flashed a poisonous green in the light from the windows. “I had it made from a stone I found in a field-- not far from the fire Clark saved me from, remember? It’s amazing how he’s always right where when I need him. You can imagine how awful I feel that I can’t be there for him, where ever he is.”
Martha watched the girl and was furious. Something…something was off, twisted… “Clark thinks of you all the time, I’m sure. He cares a lot about you,” she managed to say.
Lana laughed. “Oh, he does, I’m sure he does. I imagine he sees my face everyday...in his dreams.” She looked at Martha serenely. “We’re connected in a special way, you know. Why, we’re practically soul mates, I feel. Don’t you?”
Martha nodded slowly and thought, witch. You. You’ve done something to my baby. God help you if I find out… “Thank you Lana, I’ll be on my way now. Lex has a lead...not a likely one but still…”
“Of course, I’ll send one of the girls over with a check for you? I’d come myself but after school activities and this place just eat up my time, you understand.”
She stroked Martha’s hand again, licked her lips and Martha managed to restrain herself from shuddering and yanking her hand away. “That would be just fine, thanks.”
She left the Talon and headed for the truck, and tried to understand what had happened. What was going through that girl’s head? She passed Lana’s car and glanced inside. Something in the back seat made her jerk to a stop. A rag—a wadded up piece of blue flannel. She glanced towards the Talon and leaned against the car window to take a closer look. Flannel shirts were a dime a dozen in Smallville but she’d bet her life that was Clark’s, stained and torn and…her son’s. Her eyes filled with tears and she fought her first instinct to run back into the Talon and choke that heifer until she told her the truth. She looked over her shoulder again, fury warring with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was Smallville, where anything can and did happen. Lana could have been affected by the meteor stone, in such a way as to make her do something to Clark, and really, she didn’t give a flying goddamn what it was—she just wanted her baby back and that—that witch knew something. A chill ran down her spine and she tried not to think of the meteor mutants this town had been afflicted with….
She hurried to the truck and climbed in…she looked back to the coffee shop and Lana stood in the doorway, waving, smiling.
Martha clenched the steering wheel and ground her teeth, furious tears spilling over her cheeks. She was afraid to move, if she moved just the slightest bit, she was going to leap out of the truck and beat the living hell out of that crazy little…*bitch*. She threw the truck into drive and roared out of the parking lot. She thought about what her next step was—Lex had to know. Jonathan…might not understand. But Lex would. He’d know--Lana had been playing with her, batting her around like a cat playing with a mouse.
There was a clue in what she said somewhere, something that would tell them where he was and Lana had dangled it in front of her and enjoyed doing it. Martha caught herself, she was flying way over the speed limit, her heart was pounding, and she was on fire with anger. She slowed down—she needed to get home safe, stay safe to save Clark.
Tbc
I'd like to thank
ladydey for the positive poke in the brain! Thank you for this part, my dear!the rating is 3 for this bit.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Martha held the basket of muffins tightly; she kept her eyes straight ahead as she moved through the Talon. She was tired of well-wishers, tired of the pity in everyone’s eyes, sick of the vultures that waited to hear the worst. The rumors about her son flew fast and furious now, sympathy being replaced by gossip and malicious lies…*typical small town…crap!*she thought fiercely and tightened her grip on the basket. By the time she reached the counter and Lana, her knuckles were white.
“Hello, Martha, I felt so guilty asking you to bake when you’re certainly not up to it—I know that every day, it’s a hardship for me to go about my normal life while Clark’s missing, poor thing—I can just imagine how horrible it must be for you.” Lana’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Martha stiffened slightly. “Yes, I’m sorry for you,” she said and tried not to sound as cold as she felt. Could the girl possibly be that self-involved?
“Oh, how sweet of you to worry about me—that sweetness just runs in your family, doesn’t it. Clark’s just as dear as you are.”. Martha bristled—she seemed determined to speak Clark’s name as often as she could and damn it—every time Lana said his name, her heart beat faster, her throat hurt. She wished the child would stop.
Lana leaned toward her, a sad smile curving her lips, her eyes swimming with sympathy. Her hand curved around Martha’s and squeezed and for a moment it seemed uncomfortably intimate, the girl’s hand slid up her wrist, and pulled away.
She peeked under the towel covering the basket and cooed, “So, what wonderful things have you made for us, oooh, banana nut, love that, and pumpkin, oh how nice for the season---don’t you love it when the leaves start to turn, and all the children get so excited about new school clothes, I remember all of us so excited to get the latest fashion, except for Clark—strictly a flannel boy, that one—oh! I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me!” But she seemed to glow, her eyes seem to sparkle and Martha felt a stab of…anger towards the girl.
Lana looked at her, mouth turned down and sighed. “Mrs. Kent, it hurts me to see you so full of pain. I’m sure Clark’s fine, I’m sure he’ll come home when he realizes how much he’s hurting everyone. Clark’s always been a little self-centered. You know what I mean. He’s a boy full of secrets, isn’t he?” she took the basket from Martha and set it on the counter, turned back to her with a big smile and her sparkling eyes. “He’s so capable of taking care of himself. I just know he’s fine and probably thinking of us right now, I can just feel it!”
I just feel like smacking that grin off your face. Martha felt more and more angry—it felt like the child was baiting her, but why…she glanced down at the counter, where Lana was brushing crumbs away. Her ring flashed in the light and Martha managed to swallow a gasp.
“Oh, you like my ring?” she said when she noticed Martha’s gaze “Isn’t it darling?”
She held it up so Martha could see it better, and it flashed a poisonous green in the light from the windows. “I had it made from a stone I found in a field-- not far from the fire Clark saved me from, remember? It’s amazing how he’s always right where when I need him. You can imagine how awful I feel that I can’t be there for him, where ever he is.”
Martha watched the girl and was furious. Something…something was off, twisted… “Clark thinks of you all the time, I’m sure. He cares a lot about you,” she managed to say.
Lana laughed. “Oh, he does, I’m sure he does. I imagine he sees my face everyday...in his dreams.” She looked at Martha serenely. “We’re connected in a special way, you know. Why, we’re practically soul mates, I feel. Don’t you?”
Martha nodded slowly and thought, witch. You. You’ve done something to my baby. God help you if I find out… “Thank you Lana, I’ll be on my way now. Lex has a lead...not a likely one but still…”
“Of course, I’ll send one of the girls over with a check for you? I’d come myself but after school activities and this place just eat up my time, you understand.”
She stroked Martha’s hand again, licked her lips and Martha managed to restrain herself from shuddering and yanking her hand away. “That would be just fine, thanks.”
She left the Talon and headed for the truck, and tried to understand what had happened. What was going through that girl’s head? She passed Lana’s car and glanced inside. Something in the back seat made her jerk to a stop. A rag—a wadded up piece of blue flannel. She glanced towards the Talon and leaned against the car window to take a closer look. Flannel shirts were a dime a dozen in Smallville but she’d bet her life that was Clark’s, stained and torn and…her son’s. Her eyes filled with tears and she fought her first instinct to run back into the Talon and choke that heifer until she told her the truth. She looked over her shoulder again, fury warring with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was Smallville, where anything can and did happen. Lana could have been affected by the meteor stone, in such a way as to make her do something to Clark, and really, she didn’t give a flying goddamn what it was—she just wanted her baby back and that—that witch knew something. A chill ran down her spine and she tried not to think of the meteor mutants this town had been afflicted with….
She hurried to the truck and climbed in…she looked back to the coffee shop and Lana stood in the doorway, waving, smiling.
Martha clenched the steering wheel and ground her teeth, furious tears spilling over her cheeks. She was afraid to move, if she moved just the slightest bit, she was going to leap out of the truck and beat the living hell out of that crazy little…*bitch*. She threw the truck into drive and roared out of the parking lot. She thought about what her next step was—Lex had to know. Jonathan…might not understand. But Lex would. He’d know--Lana had been playing with her, batting her around like a cat playing with a mouse.
There was a clue in what she said somewhere, something that would tell them where he was and Lana had dangled it in front of her and enjoyed doing it. Martha caught herself, she was flying way over the speed limit, her heart was pounding, and she was on fire with anger. She slowed down—she needed to get home safe, stay safe to save Clark.
Tbc
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