It's been another long day of doing very little. Clark spent a lot of it out in the stables, finally having gotten homesick enough that even though it's not a barn, it was close enough to be comfortable
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There's a young woman walking in the area out back. She's tiny, with short brown hair, wearing a tan jacket and a headband, which is totally in in 2006, according to the magazines that determine what's in and what isn't.
She's not just looking at the sky - she's looking at the gardens, the lake, the forest, the people.
She gives Clark a nod and a "Hey," when she passes by his patch of grass. Friendly enough, for a one-syllable greeting.
Clark, he of the primary coloured almost entirely made of plaid and jeans wardrobe, wouldn't know in if it hit him like a kryptonite fragment. To him, Eden just looks nicely dressed.
"Hey," he answers in a similarly friendly manner, glancing over at her. "Quite a place they've got out here."
"Quite a place with demonic rabbits," Eden replies, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. "A part of me really wants to catch a glimpse of them."
"Yeah, there's that," he agrees with a soft chuckle. "I haven't really got all that up close and personal with any of them myself, but there seem to be plenty around. A few of them come out on the outskirts of the forest occasionally."
There's a split second where Eden is about to say 'no, don't get up, I was just on my way.' (Sarah was a very shy young girl.)
But it's just a second; it passes and Eden smiles her friendly smile, reminding herself that anything is better than the bar right now.
"Eden McCain. You too, Clark." Seconds later, she realizes Clark Kent - there's a quick twitch upwards of her eyebrows before her face smooths over. At this rate, Eden's going to start assuming everyone is fictional in some universe until proven otherwise.
"Beautiful sunset," she says, with some wistfulness.
Clark has almost stopped noticing if people recognize his name or not, unless the reaction is too obvious to not notice. Eden's gets a pass.
He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and half smiles at the horizon. "Yeah. Doesn't quite look like it does at home, but then I'm usually higher up."
"Where're you from?" She genuinely doesn't know; while she could remember if she took the time, she's trying to block any memories she has of her universe's Clark Kent.
"I recently - well, six months ago, which still feels recent sometimes - moved to New York. Sunsets don't seem to matter as much there."
"I've been to New York. Doesn't seem like you'd be able to see much of a sunset there even if you wanted to. It's a lot like Metropolis that way." Clark shakes his head slightly, mostly in fond amusement.
"I'm from Kansas. Smallville, to be exact, which you've probably never heard of. It's a farming town. I usually watch the sunset from the loft in our barn."
"But it's the atmosphere, too," Eden says, following her train of thought. "There's so much to see, so much to do - so overflowing with stuff that you can miss the simple things."
(Oh, yeah, so deep - you should getcherself to a poetry slam, grumbles her insecurities.)
"Can't say I've heard of it, though I know the general feel. I came from a small town in Utah. And, no, I'm not a Mormon. You need to be blonde to be one." Ba-dum-ba!
She's not just looking at the sky - she's looking at the gardens, the lake, the forest, the people.
She gives Clark a nod and a "Hey," when she passes by his patch of grass. Friendly enough, for a one-syllable greeting.
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"Hey," he answers in a similarly friendly manner, glancing over at her. "Quite a place they've got out here."
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Says the girl who's not anywhere near the forest.
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"I'm not sure, exactly. Red eyed, meat eating rabbits isn't enough?"
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"I'm Eden McCain, by the way."
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He stands and offers her a hand to shake. "Clark Kent. Nice to meet you."
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But it's just a second; it passes and Eden smiles her friendly smile, reminding herself that anything is better than the bar right now.
"Eden McCain. You too, Clark." Seconds later, she realizes Clark Kent - there's a quick twitch upwards of her eyebrows before her face smooths over. At this rate, Eden's going to start assuming everyone is fictional in some universe until proven otherwise.
"Beautiful sunset," she says, with some wistfulness.
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He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and half smiles at the horizon. "Yeah. Doesn't quite look like it does at home, but then I'm usually higher up."
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"Where're you from?" She genuinely doesn't know; while she could remember if she took the time, she's trying to block any memories she has of her universe's Clark Kent.
"I recently - well, six months ago, which still feels recent sometimes - moved to New York. Sunsets don't seem to matter as much there."
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"I'm from Kansas. Smallville, to be exact, which you've probably never heard of. It's a farming town. I usually watch the sunset from the loft in our barn."
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(Oh, yeah, so deep - you should getcherself to a poetry slam, grumbles her insecurities.)
"Can't say I've heard of it, though I know the general feel. I came from a small town in Utah. And, no, I'm not a Mormon. You need to be blonde to be one." Ba-dum-ba!
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He grins. "My best friend thought I was Amish when she first met me. Made me take her back to the farm just so I could prove we weren't."
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Eden chuckles at the idea. "Guess she hadn't been in Smallville long, huh?"
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Then he nods. "She'd just moved from Metropolis. I don't think she'd ever even seen a cow before. She's used to it now, of course."
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