Fic: Miracle in Smallville (Part 1 of 4) by anidawehi & kyrdwyn [Tim/Conner, NC-17 overall]

[kyrdwyn]

Title: Miracle in Smallville (Part 1 of 4)
Authors: anidawehi and kyrdwyn
Pairing: Tim Drake/Conner Kent
Rating: NC-17 (PG in this part, but we're thinking overall will be higher)
Genre: AU (non-hero)
Summary: A young businessman who has no time for holidays, or love, finds both when trapped in Smallville, Kansas, with a handsome young farmer.



Tim frowned at the snow falling gently outside the window, then at the man in front of him, "Are you certain?"

Looking none-too-happy himself, the man nodded, "I'm sorry Mr. Drake but I got a call in from my cousin, he works the tower down at the airfield, and he said weather's coming in hard. Nobody's flying in or out for at least a couple days. Heck, I wouldn't even be able to drive you to the city, the roads'll be closed soon too. Not that it would do you any good anyhow, with the storm front as big as it is."

Taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, Tim nodded, "Very well. Can you tell me where to find the nearest hotel?"

Looking even more regretful, the man, Mayor to this small town as well as the owner of the general store they were currently standing in after Tim's tour, shook his head again, "I called around, looks like there aren't any vacancies left, what with all the families in town for the holidays. I called Pastor Willis though and he and his wife are setting up a cot in the church for you. It's a nice enough little place, and it'll be warm at least."

Resigned to the holiday becoming yet another in a long string of disappointments, Tim nodded, figuring that it was his only option, and it would only be until he could fly out of Smallville, back to Gotham, "Thank you Mayor, I'm sure that will be fine."

Conner startled as Ma abruptly pushed the shopping basket into his arms and hurried around the aisle to where Mayor Young and some young man were talking. Conner hadn't been paying attention, more focused on making sure they had everything they needed, and then some, for the next week or so. He grabbed another pack of toilet paper, just in case, and hurried after Ma.

"Now, Raymond, did I hear that you're putting someone in the church alone for Christmas?" Ma sounded upset. Conner looked around the end of the aisle to see Ma and the mayor talking. Next to them was a dark haired young man about his age, dressed in a business suit, holding onto a briefcase. He looked startled by Ma's interruption.

"The hotel is full, Martha. Everyone's in town for Christmas, and with this storm coming in, there won't be any vacancies for a while. Pastor Willis is happy to have Mr. Drake stay in the fellowship hall at the church until the roads and the skies are clear enough for him to get back to Gotham."

"It's fine, thank you for your concern Ma'am, but sleeping in a church will hardly kill me, despite what people think about businessmen and deals with the devil," Tim said it a little wryly, having discovered a long time ago that a little self-deprecating humor went a long way toward making people around him relax.

Conner winced a bit. Ma didn't look happy with that answer. In fact, she looked determined. "You'll come stay with us, we've got a spare bedroom and plenty of food at the farm, since Clark isn't coming home this year. It will be a better than a cot in the fellowship hall and dinner at Sally Rae's Diner every night."

The mayor blinked, but didn't argue. Conner didn't blink at Ma's invitation, but did look down at the shopping basket real quick. He slipped backward somewhat to grab another pack of toilet paper and a few more necessaries that would be helpful with a fourth person in the house. He kept an ear on the conversation. He wasn't surprised that Ma had invited the man to stay at their house for Christmas. Ma had firm ideas on Christmas, and being with family, or friends. She'd hounded Conner's dad about his decision not to come home this year, even though Clark had to work Christmas Eve, until Clark had finally told her he would be spending Christmas with his co-worker Jimmy and his family. Ma was less unhappy then.

Glancing around the aisle, Conner spotted a display and hurried over to grab a package off it, judging size based on the young man's appearance, then hurried back to Ma's side to support her arguments. Mr. Drake had lost the fight the moment Ma made up her mind, it was just a question of when he finally realized it.

A flash of shock, then a little alarm showed in Tim's eyes, briefly, but he hid it quickly and gave her his business smile, "That's a kind offer, but I don't want to put you out. I'll be fine at the church."

The Mayor, knowing Martha Kent far to well to work against her, made a strategic retreat and looked at Conner, "Got everything you needed? Let's get you all run up then."

The Mayor addressing Conner drew Tim's attention to him and for a second Tim didn't notice anything else. The man was, to put it bluntly, gorgeous. He was also ridiculously large, which made Tim feel even smaller than he usually did. Normally that would have been a mark against him, but something about the way he held himself made it less offensive.

Conner nodded at the Mayor, glancing at Ma and Mr. Drake. Now that he was at a better angle, he could see the other man clearly, and Conner had to hold his breath. Drake was beautiful, an adjective that shouldn't be applied to men but he truly was.

Conner tore his eyes away from Drake and back to the mayor when the man called his name. Conner blushed a bit, hurrying over to the register. Behind him, Conner heard Ma huff at Mr. Drake. "Nonsense. No one should be alone at Christmas, and you're not putting us out at all."

The instant of eye contact with the other man, Conner the mayor had called him, was distracting enough that Tim answered without censuring himself first, "I'm always alone on the holidays, where I'm sleeping hardly makes a difference."

The woman's shocked gasp brought his attention back where it belonged and he gave her a small smile, shrugging apologetically, "I have a small family, Ma'am, and we've never really celebrated holidays. You're right, for most people Christmas is a time for family, I don't want to intrude on that."

Conner turned his head to watch Ma's reaction to that. Even the mayor looked interested. Ma was shaking her head, lips pursed. "You are not intruding. And just because you may be alone on other Christmases doesn't mean you should be alone on this one. You're staying with us."

"I'd just nod and smile, son," Pa said as he came up the aisle from the front door. He'd been waiting in the truck for Ma and Conner, but clearly had decided to come in and see what was taking so long. "Martha's not going to take no for an answer, and frankly, you'd be missing out on the best pie in the county if you stay at the church."

Clearly he wasn't going to get out of this gracefully, and from the way the Mayor reacted to these people they were important to the community so Tim didn't want to risk offending them when there was still a possibility of his father's company building a plant here. Frowning, Tim reluctantly nodded and looked at the Mayor, "Please call if a hotel room opens up."

Mayor Young had no intentions of doing so, because to his mind the better an impression of Smallville the boy got the more likely he'd bring some desperately needed jobs, and no one made a better impression than the Kents. Still he nodded and smiled, "Of course. As soon as I hear anything I'll let you know."

"Thank you... Ma'am, sir, I appreciate your hospitality. My name is Timothy Drake," He offered his hand, determined to be polite, even if they had effectively strong armed him into staying with them.

Pa reached out and shook Timothy's hand. "Jonathan Kent. This is my wife, Martha, and that's our grandson, Conner, over there at the register."

Conner watched Timothy shake hands with Pa and Ma, and then turn to give Conner a small nod. Conner nodded back, hoping like hell he wasn't blushing at that. He turned back to Mayor Young and finished checking out, paying him and gathering up the bags. "You have everything we need, Conner?" Ma asked.

"Yes, Ma. Got enough for the four of us," he said to reassure her that they truly would have enough for the holiday. Pa came over to help him with the bags, glancing over at Timothy.

"You need any help with your bags, son?"

Glancing down at his briefcase, Tim said wryly, "I'm afraid this is the only bag I've got. I wasn't supposed to be here overnight."

Which brought up a good point... Glancing over the register Tim sighed to see that the credit card machine was out of service, and of course he had very little cash on him. Still it should be enough for the necessities, "I'm sorry to delay you even more, but if I could have five minutes to pick up a few things?"

And the Kents' gracious assurances that they didn't mind waiting, Tim moved quickly through the store, picking up new undergarments and the bare necessities for toiletries. His estimates, when he got to the register, turned out to be on target, and he was relieved to find that he had enough cash to cover his purchases. The whole situation was mortifying enough without adding the embarrassment of not having enough money on top of it, especially since he was clearly more wealthy than everyone in the town.

When he was finished he buttoned up his coat, briefly wished it were warmer, and nodded to the Kents, "Thank you."

Pa gave him a reassuring smile and they all trooped out into the falling snow, which had grown half an inch in depth since Tim walked through it last. Resigned to the fact that the storm was going to be as bad as predicted, Tim sat where he was directed in the truck, and found himself next to Conner. The usual polite conversation topics he employed in awkward situations seemed painfully out of place, so Tim held his peace and tried to be as still and unobtrusive as physically possible.

Conner and Pa quickly got the bags secured under the tarp in the bed of the truck before getting into the cab. Conner sat in the back, next to Tim, glancing at the other man who looked like he didn't want to be there. "Um," Conner said, "where are you from, if I can ask?"

Turning his eyes from the snow outside to Conner, a much nicer view, in Tim's opinion, he answered, "Gotham. I'm here on behalf of Drake Industries. We're looking into basing a plant here in Smallville. Obviously my timing could have been better."

He couldn't help a little dry humor in that last bit, though he didn't find the situation all that amusing.

Conner nodded. Right. He'd heard about some company out of Gotham looking at the area for a plant, heard people getting excited about the idea of new jobs in the area. He just hadn't connected Tim with the company. "I don't know," he finally said, a small smile on his lips, "at least you aren't stranded at the air field or worse, making an emergency landing in the middle of nowhere to avoid the storm."

"And apparently I would be missing the best pie in the county," Tim agreed, though he wasn't thinking so much about the pie as he was taking consolation from the fact that he at least got to spend a little time with a very attractive man his age. It wasn't often that that happened, it was rare that he spent time with anyone outside of work at all, in fact.

"This is true. Seriously, you have not lived until you've tasted Ma's pie," Conner said happily, thinking of the apple pie he knew Ma would be making for Christmas dinner. He grinned at Tim, even as Ma chuckled from the front seat. He thought of something, his grin turning to something more serious. "Um, do you like apple pie? I know Ma always makes it for Christmas dinner, but if you'd like something else, I'm sure we've got the ingredients."

Though he was a little surprised that Conner was so concerned his preferences, Tim answered immediately, "Apple pie is fine, but please, don't change what you usually do just because I'm here, I really don't want to inconvenience you in any way."

"It's not an inconvenience," Ma said from the front seat. "No reason for us to serve you something you don't like, or might be allergic to. I try to avoid killing people at Christmas. It just sends the wrong message."

Conner chuckled and glanced at Tim. "Ma loves to cook. Making an extra pie if you prefer pumpkin or mince or something is not an issue."

"I promise I don't have any allergies," Tim assured them, adding, "I'm sure apple pie is fine." He liked apples, after all, it stood to reason he'd like apple pie as well. Hoping to divert the attention from pie, he asked, "Can I ask what your professions are?"

Pa glanced at them in the rear view mirror. "We're farmers. My family's owned the land for generations. Might skip a generation or two, my son prefers the big city, but we've been here for a long time."

"Conner's also a college student," Ma added with a note of pride in her voice. Conner blushed. It was just an online college, so he could still work on the farm, but he hoped getting a business degree would help with the business side of running the farm.

Tim nodded and gave Conner an interested look, "What school do you attend?"

Conner blushed more. "Um. I'm in Metropolis State's online degree program. Hard to attend normal classes with the farm work."

"I'm sure," Tim agreed without hesitation, "Metropolis State is a good school, I put in an application for their business program."

Of course he'd gone to Harvard, as his father had expected, but he'd applied to several schools.

Conner looked over and gave Tim a small smile. "I'm in their business program, too. Running the farm is as much a business as anything. Where do you go to school, if I can ask?"

Tim paused, inexplicably embarrassed to tell them the truth, but he'd backed himself into this verbal corner so he had to answer, "I graduated from Harvard last year. My father is an alumni so he wanted me to attend his alma mater."

Conner raised an eyebrow, but kinda shrugged. "My dad went to Metropolis State. Guess they always want us to follow in their footsteps, huh?"

Ma frowned. 'Now, Conner, Clark wasn't trying to be pushy.."

"I know, Ma, but he knows I'd rather be here than interning at some newspaper." His dad had tried to get him to attend the school full time, gotten him an interview for a paid internship at his newspaper, but Conner was a farm boy at heart. He was happier here than he'd ever been in Metropolis.

Tim shrugged slightly, turning his eyes back out toward the snow, "Fathers want what is best for their sons, and a lot of the time it's what they think was best for themselves. They aren't always wrong, but they aren't always right either."

Tim carefully left unsaid which he thought applied to him and his father.

Conner looked at Tim, but there wasn't much he could say to that. Fortunately, they turned off the main road onto the farm's driveway then, and Conner grinned as they approached the house. "Home sweet home," he said.

It looked ridiculously idyllic, with the snow falling in giant fluffy flakes and the farmhouse porch lit with a warm golden light. The whole situation felt surreal and Tim shook his head a little in wonder before saying, almost to himself, "It's lovely."

Ma smiled at Tim as the truck pulled to a stop next to Connor's truck and her Jeep. "Thank you, Timothy."

Conner hopped out of the back of the truck and grabbed the bags from the bed. "C'mon in," he said to Tim.

"Conner, why don't you put the bags in the kitchen and show Timothy to his room, and Pa and I will put the groceries away and start supper. I'm sure Timothy would like to call his family and let them know he's been detained." Ma opened the door to the house and Krypto came bounding out, barking happily and sniffing at everyone's legs, including Tim's. "Down, Krypto," Ma said. "He's a guest."

"Please, Tim is fine, my mother's the only one who uses my full first name," Tim said, standing perfectly still and holding his briefcase and shopping bag up out of Krypto's range, watching the dog warily.

Pa came over and took one of the bags out of Conner's hands and headed inside with Ma. Conner whistled for Krypto, who gave a last happy bark and Tim and bounded over to stand on his hind legs and try to lick Conner's face. Conner rubbed Krypto's head. "I missed you to, boy, for the whole two hours we were gone," he said with affection. He glanced at Tim. "Sorry, he thinks everyone who comes to the farm is here to see him."

"It's alright, I'm sure some people are," Tim said, with a little amusement, now that the dog was jumping on someone else. Of course Conner was big enough that he didn't even budge when the dog jumped on him. Hugging his coat closer, starting to shiver in the thickening snow, Tim said, "Krypto... that's an unusual name."

Conner gave Krypto one last affectionate pat before turning to Tim and gesturing for the other man to head into the house ahead of Conner. "Yeah, I got really interested in cryptography in high school, so I named him Krypto for short. Well, and changed the first letter to K, just to be different."

Once inside, Conner hung his coat on the rack and reached out to take Tim's from him. "You'll be just up the stairs on the left, across from me."

Relieved to be inside, out of the cold, Tim nodded as he handed Conner his coat, glancing around the house the impression of surreality was even stronger at how warm and homey it was. "Thank you... Your family really doesn't need to do this. I *can* stay at the church, I'm sure I would be fine."

Conner frowned as he hung up the coat. "Ma's right, though, no one should be alone at Christmas. Even if you are used to it. So no, we don't have to, but we want to. And you can't tell me you prefer a cot in the fellowship hall to a real bed in an actual bedroom."

Tim shrugged, "I couldn't say, I've never been in a fellowship hall..." He paused, then added with a little smile, almost apologetically amused, "We're Jewish."

Conner paused, trying desperately to remember when Hanukkah was on the calendar. Had it already occurred? "Well, it's basically where everyone gathers after church for coffee and tea and gossip. Rather open and not exactly cozy if no one's in there."

Reading Conner's thoughts, Tim assured him, "Don't worry about Hanukkah, like I said, I'm always alone on the holidays anyway."

Then a thought occurred to him and he had to laugh a little, "Well... at least I've got better luck than the last young Jewish man when there wasn't any room in the inn... unless you're planning on putting me in the barn after all, for the sake of authenticity."

Conner couldn't help but chuckle. "No, we've got plenty of room here. No need to stick you in the barn. Besides, the cows wouldn't appreciate it, and you don't want to get on their bad side. They kick."

"That is one life experience I could do without," Tim agreed, then shifted his weight a little, not wanting to be rude and ask where he could put his things so he could call home, but feeling the need to call soon all the same.

Conner nodded in agreement. "Trust me, you really can." He headed for the stairs. "Come on up, I'll show you to your room."

He led Tim upstairs and to the first door on the left side of the hallway. "This is your room," he said, pushing the door open. It was small, but the double bed had clean blue sheets and a blue comforter, and the dresser and small desk were functional. Conner had stayed in the room once when he'd been living with his Dad and they'd visited the farm. "The bathroom is next door. You and I will be sharing, hope you don't mind. I'm the last door on the left if you need anything. Ma and Pa's room is on the other side of the staircase."

Glancing in, the room was smaller than his closet, Tim nodded and stepped inside to set down his briefcase and bag of necessities, "Thank you. I'd better call my assistant or he'll probably start driving out here on his own. It won't take more than a few minutes."

"Take as much time as you need. I'll be downstairs helping Ma and Pa, feel free to come on down when you're done."

Tim nodded in thanks and as Conner stepped out, he hit the first button on his speed dial. It only rang once before it was answered, and before his assistant could say anything Tim spoke, "Before you ask, there is no way out of town until the storm lets up Bernard. And no, you aren't going into the office to take care of anything while I'm stuck here. I just need the number to contact Mr. Sheng's assistant so I can reschedule our meetings until the weather relents."

Pulling a notebook out of his briefcase he grabbed a pen and jotted down the number. "Thank you. Now go ahead and ask... Smallville is almost surreal it's so close to the ideal small town. The people are very kind, in fact I've effectively been strong armed into staying with a couple and their grandson for the duration of the storm, as the hotels are full, and yes, I'm aware of the humor in the situation. I assure you I'll survive. In the mean time, enjoy your holiday. I'll see you in the office when I get back. ... Don't bother, I'm sure they've already been informed. I'll leave them a message later. Merry Christmas Bernard."

Hanging up, he sighed and ran a hand over his face tiredly before dialing his parents' number, leaving a brief message telling them his version of what was going on, and wishing them a good time on their trip. Not ten minutes after Conner had gone downstairs, Tim followed, hesitating at the kitchen doorway to ask carefully, "Can I help?"

Conner glanced up at Tim as he pulled a cookie sheet of rolls out of the over. Pa was in the living room, checking on the weather forecast, and Ma was at the crock pot. She looked up at Tim and smiled. "If you wouldn't mind bringing bowls over from the table so I can dish out the soup, I'd appreciate it. Conner, don't forget to put the rest in the basket, dear."

"I will, Ma," Conner said, taking the sheet over to the table and starting to put biscuits on the plates. Two for each of them, including Tim, and then the rest into the basket, covered with a napkin to help keep them warm. When that was on the table, he looked over at Tim. "What can I get you to drink?"

Gathering the bowls carefully, Tim set them next to Mrs. Kent, "Whatever everyone else is having is fine, thank you. I've gotten the impression that the three of you would know food better than I would."

Honestly it wouldn't be much of a stretch, Tim knew about the gourmet food that were served at various events and the homes of his parents and their associates, but the way everyone talked about Mrs. Kent's food made the perfectly prepared French food sound sad in comparison.

Ma chuckled. "Pa and I are having coffee and Conner tends to drink milk with dinner. You might want to pick one, otherwise Conner's likely to serve you both."

"Coffee would be perfect," Tim answered, aware of the relief in his voice at the idea of coffee. It had been a long day, and a longer night before that, and he could really use the caffeine. As Mrs. Kent filled the bowls with a soup that smelled amazing, Tim took them back to the table, and started helping Conner carry full mugs to the table too. If he were going to be taking up room he might as well make himself useful, after all.

Conner smiled at Tim as he helped carry the mugs of coffee. "There's milk and sugar on the table for the coffee," he said. He set his glass of milk down at his usual spot, leaving the spot across the table for Tim. Ma and Pa sat at the ends of the table. Pa came in with a frown on his face. "Weather guys are saying the front looks like it's not going away soon. I'm afraid you may be here a bit longer than just a few days, Tim."

Conner held out Ma's chair for her and she shook her head at him but didn't protest.

Frowning right along with him, Tim took his seat, mentally picturing his schedule for the next week, "How much longer?"

"Probably until after Christmas, I'm afraid," Pa said as he sat down. "At least for the storm to pass and the roads to clear enough to get down to the airfield or out to the city."

Conner noticed Tim's frown. He really couldn't blame Tim, he probably had a lot to do at his company and being stuck in Smallville for a few days would not be helpful. He made a note to give Tim the password to the wifi if he had a computer so he could at least try to keep up with his business.

Conner took his seat and reached out to take both Ma and Pa's hands. They held their hands out to Tim, to complete the circle to say grace.

Hesitating, because he had no idea what they were doing, Tim took the offered hands, and relaxed a little when Pa started praying, "Dear Lord, thank you for this bounty you've given us, and for the skillful hands that prepared it. And thank you for giving us a guest this Christmas, and keeping Tim safe in Smallville instead of flying in the middle of that storm. In Jesus's name, amen."

Echoing everyone else automatically, Tim looked down at his empty plate to hide his blush and the conflicted feelings in his eyes. It was both embarrassing and somehow comforting to have someone grateful for his presence, even if it was just a way of being polite.

Conner winced a bit when he realized he hadn't told Ma and Pa that Tim was Jewish, but figured he'd bring it up later, not during dinner. Or let Tim bring it up. But, he was glad Tim was here, and not out in the storm. From what Pa hadn't said, it sounded as if Tim might have been stuck out there if he'd tried to get out of Smallville, and the airfield was even less welcoming than sleeping in the church.

Ma handed Tim the butter for his biscuits as Conner started into the chicken noodle soup. Ma had started it before they'd left for town, and it was just perfect. "This is wonderful, Ma," he said.

Relieved to have something else to focus on, Tim scooped up a tiny bit of butter before passing it to Conner and started eating, his embarrassment immediately forgotten at the first taste of Ma Kent's cooking. Of course he was already hungry, so that might be influencing his tastes, but he didn't think so. After Conner spoke up, Tim swallowed and agreed, "It is very good."

Ma smiled widely. "Thank you, Tim," she said as she bent to her own supper. It was quiet for several minutes as they ate before Pa spoke up. "So, Tim, have you lived in Gotham all your life?"

Swallowing his mouthful of soup, Tim set his spoon down to answer, the picture of perfect manners, "Yes sir, the Drakes have been in Gotham for generations. Like the Kents here, I suppose."

Conner let Pa and Tim keep talking, with ma making a point here and there about Gotham. Conner had only been once, and hadn't been impressed by the city. But he did like to hear Tim talk about his city, especially in that cute accent of his.

Tim loved his city, and it was obvious in the way he talked about it, especially when the familiar topic let him relax. With the easing of tension his voice got more passionate, his gestures more animated and natural, though he was probably still the most controlled and restrained person the Kents had ever met. Still, by the time dessert rolled around his energy was starting to wear down and even the coffee wasn't enough to keep him from yawning. He immediately blushed, "I'm sorry, it's been a long day."

"I can imagine," Pa said as he and Conner cleared the table and Ma started cutting slices of pie for dessert. "Don't feel like you have to stay up just because we are," he added.

"Conner, go get the extra quilt out of the linen closet and put it in Tim's bedroom, just in case," Ma said, peering out the window at the snow. "It does get a little chilly in that room."

"I don't want to be rude," Tim protested, adding with a little smile, "Besides, I've heard amazing things about this pie."

"It wouldn't be rude," Conner protested on his way out the door. "Rude is falling asleep at the table. I speak from experience," he added with a self deprecating grin.

He dashed upstairs to grab a patchwork quilt out of the linen closet it and set it on Tim's bed. When he got back downstairs, Tim was sitting at the table with Ma and Pa. There were four plates of apple pie on the table, and Conner grinned as he sat back down. "You didn't have to wait for me," he said.

"Not waiting *would* have been rude," Tim pointed out, sipping yet another cup of coffee, a tired sparkle in his eyes.

Conner smiled at Tim. He was obviously tired and trying not to show it, but all it was doing was making Tim look cute. "Well, thank you."

"Dig in," Pa encouraged, suiting actions to words and taking a bite of pie.

Tim followed his example once Conner was sitting and made an appreciative noise as he swallowed, "Mrs. Kent your reputation is well deserved."

Ma blushed a bit at that. "Thank you, Tim."

They ate in silence until the pie was gone. As Conner stood to help Ma with the dishes, Pa spoke up. "I'll brave the weather tonight to settle the cows if you'll milk them in the morning, Conner."

Conner nodded. He knew it was cold out there and likely to get colder, and too cold wasn't good for Pa's heart. "It's a deal."

Tim stood to help as well, picking up the pie when Conner and Ma got to the plates first, offering, "If you'll tell me what to do, I'll help..."

He didn't have the first idea what one did on a farm, save what he'd seen on movies or read in books, but he was sure he could follow instructions.

Conner glanced at Pa, who shrugged. Conner looked back at Tim. "Well, a pair of hands to carry stuff is never amiss," he said. The actual milking, and they were still old fashioned here, was done by hand, and Conner wasn't sure Tim would be up for that. "But it'll be pretty early in the morning," he warned Tim.

"You all are giving me a place to stay, the least I can do is get up and help with the chores," Tim said firmly, his tone making it clear that there was no arguing with him.

Conner nodded. "I leave for the barn at five thirty. Dress as warmly as you can, it's usually freezing out there."

Well... that was going to be miserable, given that all Tim had was a business suit and the expensive and fashionable, but not terribly warm, trench coat he'd been wearing earlier. Still, he was determined, so he nodded, "I'll be up. If I'm going to be getting up that early I should get to bed soon though. Is there anything else I can help with first?"

Pa frowned. "Conner, best get Tim a pair of your jeans and a sweatshirt. He can borrow my barn boots and coat tomorrow. I don't think that suit is a good idea in the barn."

Conner glanced at Tim, and nodded. "I will, Pa."

Ma shook her head at Tim. "I've got this, you boys go on upstairs."

Tim opened his mouth to protest, not the least of which because he would practically *swim* in Conner's clothes, but he'd already learned the futility of arguing with the Kents, and he'd won the battle to help in the morning, so he accepted defeat in this latest encounter and nodded, "Goodnight Mr and Mrs Kent. Thank you again for dinner, and for the room."

Conner moved over to kiss Ma on the cheek and hug Pa. "Goodnight," he told them.

"Goodnight, Conner. Goodnight, Tim," Ma said.

Conner led the way upstairs and to his room. He rummaged around in his closet and dresser, finally coming up with a pair of jeans he'd outgrown and a Smallville High Crows sweatshirt. "Um, these should fit. and I think..." he rummaged in the dresser again and handed Tim a belt and a pair of socks. "These might help, too."

Taking them, and blushing slightly that he was reduced to borrowing clothes, Tim nodded, "Thank you, I'm sure this will be much warmer than my suit."

"I hope so." Conner couldn't help the slight thrill that went through him at the thought of Tim in his clothing, but he tamped it down. "You want me to come wake you in the morning?"

"I'll set an alarm on my phone, but if I'm not up when you are, please feel free to wake me up," Tim certainly wouldn't protest waking up to that face, even if it was so he could get up and help milk cows, or... whatever he would be doing. Giving Conner another nod and a small smile, in spite of his tendency to be reserved rather than friendly, Tim retreated before he could do something ill-advised, like tell Conner that so far he was the best part of being stranded in Smallville, even better than Martha Kent's apple pie.

Conner hit his alarm to turn it off and rolled over, getting out of bed. He stretched and yawned as he left his room and made his way down the hall to the bathroom, making a note to check on Tim after he was done. Before he got to the bathroom, something bumped into him, and he automatically put his arm out, closing them around the warm body. He looked down to see Tim standing there, a little startled. He was shirtless and wearing his suit pants, and Conner bit back the urge to lean in and see if the pale skin tasted as good as it looked. "Morning," he said roughly, hoping Tim would thinking the roughness of his voice was due to the hour, not Conner being somewhat turned on.

It was far FAR too early to be awake, but his alarm had rung and though he was only vaguely aware of why he'd set it, Tim obeyed its gentle beeping and pushed himself out of his warm little nest and wandered in the direction of the bathroom. His eyes were only nominally open, and he certainly wasn't paying any attention to anything until he abruptly ran into something large and warm and putting an arm around him. Looking down he saw a large arm, dramatically tan against his own milk-pale skin, and suddenly more awake, he looked up to find Conner staring at him. There was a part of him that was extremely displeased with the fact that he'd been caught wandering a stranger's house half dressed, but the majority of him was far more interested in the fact that Conner was wearing even less than he was and was *right there*. Swallowing he forced his eyes up from an interested examination of the smooth muscles of Conner's shoulders to the man's eyes and echoed, "Good morning."

Tim was awake enough, after looking at Conner, that he knew he should apologize for running into the man, but he really wasn't sorry and amazingly, Conner didn't seem to mind.

Conner couldn't help but notice the way Tim was looking at him, and he shifted a little, hoping his own interest in Tim wouldn't be as obvious. Tim fit nicely into his arms, and Conner forced himself to let the arm drop, "Guess I don't need to come wake you up, huh?" Conner asked with a smile.

Taking that as a suggestion to step away, Tim did so and retreated mentally into wry humor, "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure I *am* awake."

Hating the abrupt loss of Tim's warmth, but knowing he couldn't just drag Tim back for a hug, Conner chuckled. "You look awake to me, unless you're in the habit of sleepwalking. But if you want, I'll go put on some coffee while you get the first shower."

Tim knew he wasn't coherent enough to hide the desperate longing for coffee in his eyes, so he didn't even try, saying sincerely, "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Chuckling, Conner patted Tim on the shoulder. "You're welcome. I'll bring up a mug for you when it's done." He headed down to the kitchen and the coffee maker. His dad kept making noises about getting them one of those 'one cup at a time' coffee makers, but they kept refusing. A pot of coffee sometimes wasn't enough on the Kent farm. One cup at a time was just silly.

Awake enough to remember that he needed his clothes and toiletries this time, Tim went back to fetch them and took a quick shower, not wanting to use up all the hot water before Conner had a chance to clean up.

Conner was just finishing pouring the second cup of coffee when Tim shuffled in, looking several years younger than he really was because Conner's clothes were so big on him. Dropping to a knee next to the counter, Tim started to roll up the leg of the jeans, sincerely hoping that he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt.

Glancing at Tim, Conner had to swallow. He'd been right, Tim did look good wearing his clothing. Sure, it was big on him, but it gave Conner images of him being wrapped around Tim. He scolded himself for wanting to cuddle the other man when he didn't know anything about him. For all he knew, Tim had a female fiancée back in Gotham.

He held the mug out to Tim when Tim had finished rolling up the pants of his jeans. "Coffee, black, hot. Closest I get to being a Sundollars barista."

Taking the mug gratefully, Tim wrapped his hands around it, already a little chilly, even in the warm kitchen, "It's perfect. Though to be fair, any coffee I don't make is perfect in comparison."

That was one thing Tim just couldn't seem to master; every cup of coffee he tried to brew somehow turned into the most horrific sludge known to man. That's one of the reasons he valued Bernard so much, his assistant had figured out very quickly that having a cup of coffee waiting at the security desk of Tim's apartment building every morning was the single most important thing he could do for his boss before noon.

"My dad says the same thing. Swears by those coffee makers with the already premeasured cups and all that." Conner shrugged and watched Tim drink his coffee, a happy smile on his face. "There's food in the fridge if you're hungry for something now, or Ma will be up and have breakfast made by the time we get back. I'm going to go shower." He gulped down his mug and grinned at Tim before heading upstairs to get his clothing and shower.

Breakfast was almost never a part of Tim's day, unless it was a half a bagel hurriedly swallowed on the elevator on the way to a meeting, so he nodded at Conner and watched him go before sitting down next to the window. For all that it was making his life difficult at the moment, Tim had to admit that the steadily falling snow outside made for a beautiful scene. It looked to be at least three feet deep already, and covered the farm in a shimmering blanket, lit by the warm glow of the porch light. Sipping his coffee, because he had time before Conner came back down, Tim allowed himself to consider the other man and mentally chastised himself for being so obvious. By his usual standards he was practically throwing himself at the man, and while Conner hadn't seemed uncomfortable with it so far, Tim really had no idea of his situation, or even his inclinations. Not to mention the fact that Tim was a guest and he might feel obligated to put up with more that he would have otherwise. Shaking his head at himself, and wondering what it was about Conner Kent that made him act so out of character, Tim resolved to be politely friendly, and that was it.

Showering quickly, Conner got dressed in his usual jeans and a blue plaid flannel over a black t shirt. He ran a comb through his hair and padded back to the kitchen, seeing Tim sitting at the table looking outside. Conner poured himself another mug of coffee and sipped at it as he joined Tim. It was beautiful outside, with what little moonlight left glinting off the snow. Too much snow to walk to the barn, he thought. They'd have to take the truck. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Conner asked happily.

Very strictly not allowing himself to look at Conner, Tim nodded, "We don't get snow like this in Gotham."

"Metropolis doesn't either," Conner said. "This is the kind of snow that makes me want to build a snowman," he said sheepishly as he drank his coffee.

In spite of himself, Tim smiled a little and admitted, "I never have."

Conner was startled. "Never?" he asked.

Looking down at his coffee cup, Tim frowned a little and shrugged, saying matter of factly, "I don't have siblings, the servants were encouraged to keep a professional distance, and my parents were busy. Besides, Mother wouldn't have been pleased if someone were to make a mess of the grounds."

Putting a hand on Tim's shoulder, thinking that sounded like a lonely way to grow up, Conner said brightly. "Well, we'll just have to make some this afternoon, then."

Jumping in surprise at Conner's touch, Tim looked up at him and couldn't stop his smile, "Are you using me as an excuse to play in the snow?"

Conner grinned. "Will you think less of me if I say yes?"

Laughing softly, Tim shook his head, "I'm a businessman Conner, I'm trained to admire ulterior motives and creative problem solving."

"Well, my ulterior motives are pretty plain. Play in the snow." He finished his coffee. "You ready? I figure we'll take my truck down to the barn, it's easier than walking in this weather.”

Glancing outside again, Tim finished his coffee and stood as well, taking his cup to the sink, "What are we going to be doing?"

"Well, I need to muck out their stalls and milk them. I hoped you wouldn't mind getting their feed and spreading clean straw."

"Not at all, just tell me how to do it," Tim agreed, taking the coat Conner handed him and stepping into the boots that were offered as well. Both were predictably too big, apparently the Kents didn't HAVE small genes, but they were warmer than what his clothes and they did fit significantly better than Conner's clothes did.

"I'll show you when we get to the barn," Conner said, heading for his truck, breath visible as he spoke outside. He got in and started it, turning the heat on to blast high so it would get warmer in the truck. It wouldn't warm up until they got back to the house. Maybe. But still, it would be better than nothing.

Once Tim was in, he put the truck in gear and slowly headed for the barn.

Tim started to shiver the moment he got outside and he shoved his hands into the pockets of the jacket as soon as he got his belt buckled, though he managed to keep his teeth from chattering as he asked, "Is the snow going to be an issue for your work around the farm?"

“Only if it keeps going as bad as it is. Pa and I will probably put the plow on one of the trucks later clear a path to the barn and chicken coop." Conner shifted in his seat, peering out the window. He pulled up close to the barn entrance, giving Tim the lesser distance to walk. "Come on. Sooner done, sooner back home where it's warm!"

"I can't argue with that," Tim murmured, mostly to himself, and slid out of the truck, immediately thigh deep in snow. Sloughing to the barn in Conner's wake, he breathed a sigh of relief that the barn, while pungent, was marginally warmer thanks to the body heat of the cows occupying it.

Conner went to work immediately, and after getting some direction, and asking a couple of questions, Tim did as well. It was surprisingly cerebral work, having to calculate how much feed went into each trough, and Tim had a new respect for farmers by the time they were finished. It was physically demanding enough that Tim doubted he would be missing his usual evening workout too, which was just as well, because he didn't think the Kents had exercise equipment and he certainly wasn't going to try and run in this snow.

Finishing spreading straw on the last stall, Tim leaned the pitchfork against the wall where he'd found it and rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them, "Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

Conner glanced around the barn, then shook his head. Tim had fed the cows and gotten the new straw into the stalls, better than most city boys would, he thought. "Nope," he said. "Pa and I will check in on them later, make sure the water hasn't frozen, though the heating elements at the bottom of their troughs should be working. I say we head back and get breakfast."

"That sounds like a good plan," Tim answered, not quite able to hide his relief. He couldn't feel most of his lower legs and arms and his face felt stiff enough that he was surprised he made sense when he spoke.

Conner glanced at Tim. He looked half-frozen. Conner pulled Tim to him in a one armed hug. "Want me to go first, warm up the car a bit?

Tim stiffened in surprise, then slowly leaned into Conner's side, shaking his head, "I'm fine, just not used to being in the weather this long. The drive isn't that long, I'm not going to freeze to death."

Nodding, Conner gave Tim a last bit of hug then moved away, heading for the door. He led them outside and back to the truck, diving in and getting it started quickly. Once Tim was in, they headed back to the house.

Curling up as much as he was able with the seatbelt on, really regretting the loss of Conner's warmth, Tim was content to leave the comfortable silence until they got back to the house. When they got inside he hung the coat he'd borrowed back where he'd gotten it from and rubbed his hands together again, his cheeks and the tip of his nose bright pink.

Conner hung his coat up and took off his barn boots before leading Tim back into the kitchen. Ma and Pa were there, getting breakfast ready. Conner nudged Tim toward the table as he went to get both of them fresh mugs of coffee. "It's cold out there," he said.

Pa took one look at Tim and nodded, "So I see. How's the herd?"

Sitting down gratefully, Tim gave Conner a look that was just short of adoring when he handed over the coffee, wrapping his hands around it more for the warmth than the caffeine this time.

Conner' breath caught at the look Tim gave him. It was a look that warmed him up on the inside, and he shifted, smiling, before sitting down across from Tim with his own mug. "Good. Happy to have fresh food and water. Millie was less than thrilled about being milked, but she got over it. Tim was a great helper," Conner added with a smile. "Wouldn't have been done nearly as soon without his help."

Tim shook his head, watching Conner over the rim of his mug, "I carried buckets and moved straw, I'm fairly certain a ten year old could have done as well as I did."

Pa chuckled. "I seem to recall a ten year old on the farm who couldn't do all that," he said with a fond look at Conner, who groaned and put his head on the table.

"Pa! I was ten! I'd never been out of the city before!"

Amused, Tim raised his eyebrows and sipped his coffee, finally warm enough that he could feel his face, "This sounds like an interesting story..."

Conner blushed. "It's not, really."

Ma chuckled. "Jonathan told Conner to get some clean straw for the cows. Conner ran back to the farm house and turned the kitchen practically upside down looking for drinking straws."

Conner kept his head on the table, not looking at Tim. "I was a city boy until then," he mumbled in his defense.

Laughing softly, Tim started to reach over and touch Conner's arm, but remembered his resolution not to get too personal and stopped himself, wrapping his hand back around his coffee mug and wincing slightly. Looking down at his hands, finally warm enough that he could feel them completely, Tim shook his head ruefully at a couple of blisters he'd managed to pick up and held it up so Conner could see it, "You aren't the only city boy with embarrassing stories of your first time on a farm."

Conner looked up, seeing Tim holding up his hand. "Blisters aren't embarrassing," he said with a grin. "Just means next time, we remember to get you some good gloves."

"They're embarrassing when you're supposed to be smart enough to realize you need gloves in the first place," Tim pointed out, sipping his coffee again, satisfied that he'd managed to get Conner to look up.

Smiling at Tim, Conner took a sip of his own coffee. "Well, Ma's got a good salve that helps with blisters. I can put it on for you later, if you want. " He paused a second, then, realizing what he'd said. "Or you can do it yourself, too. Just sometimes easier when someone else does it." Quit babbling, he scolded himself.

For a second Tim considered Conner, then gave him a small, but warm smile, "Your help would be appreciated."

If Conner was making slips like that, and nervous enough around him to ramble like that, then Tim thought there was a good chance that he *was* interested, and if there was... Well Tim liked him too much not to respond.

Pa, observing all this quietly, looked over at his wife, and smiled into his cup of coffee; from the look on her face the two boys were going to get together whether they wanted to or not.

Conner smiled back, glad Tim wasn't offended by the offer, and hoping that warm smile meant that maybe... maybe Tim was interested. It might not come to anything, but it had been a long time since Conner had found a guy he could flirt with like this, a guy he liked. In such a small town, any flirtation got remarked on, and Conner sometimes hated the gossip with a passion. Especially when it was small minded gossip.

Ma interrupted his thoughts by sliding a plate in front of him, then one in front of Tim. Eggs, sausage, bacon, and hash browns, all warm from the stove. "Eat up!" she said as she went back for her and Pa's plates.

Looking up at her, surprised, Tim flushed a little and picked up his fork, surprised to find himself hungry. Starting to eat, he asked after a few bites, "Is there anything else I can help with today?"

Pa looked up from his meal and said thoughtfully, "Well, I figured Conner and I would go back out to clear the road on the farm and check on the chickens. They're ornery around strangers, so you're probably better off staying here."

"I could use some help with putting up the Christmas tree," Ma said. "We usually wait until a few days before Christmas to put it up," she said. "If it's up too long before Christmas, I get tired of seeing it taking up my living room," she added with a small smile and shrug.

Tim nodded slowly, sure that he could manage that, though God only knew what his parents would say if they found out, "Of course, I'll help however I can."

Ma smiled. "Great! Jonathan and Conner brought all the boxes down yesterday, so at least you're spared rummaging through the attic."

"And she does mean spared. There's stuff up from from when Pa's grandpa was a boy," Conner said.

"Then it's been cleaned out more recently than my parents' attic. I found my great great grandmother's wedding dress up there, and a menorah that had to date back to the turn of the century at least," Tim still had it, actually, sitting in the window of his apartment's living room, his parents didn't miss it at all.

"I bet that's a beautiful menorah," Ma said. "Is your family Jewish?"

Conner could tell by the look on her face Ma was mentally going through the contents of the attic, wondering if they had any menorahs in there. It was possible, given everything. And Hanukkah was starting soon. Conner had looked it up before going to bed last night.

"Nominally," Tim answered, finishing his breakfast and sitting back to sip his coffee, "We're Jewish by heritage, but other than a few token gestures, religion was never my parents' priority.

"Not their priority, but what about you?" Ma asked. She had the look in her eyes that made Connor think there might actually be a menorah upstairs in the attic. He wondered how old it was, and which Kent it had belonged to.

Frowning a little, knowing it would probably upset this family who were clearly spiritual, Tim admitted, "I've studied Judaism, but it's always been more academic and hereditory than spiritual for me."

Ma frowned, but Pa gave her a look over his plate. "That's probably more than some Christians have done," he said mildly. "Weather permitting, we attend the Christmas Eve service at the church in town. You're welcome to join us, or stay here if you prefer. We understand whichever you decide."

Conner nodded at Tim when he looked over. They weren't going to drag Tim to church against his will. That was just wrong, in Conner's eyes. Not that he wouldn't mind being able to sit next to Tim in church, but not if Tim didn't genuinely want to be there.

Tim considered for a moment, "I'd like to go along, if you don't mind. If we're going to put the factory here it would help to know more about the people in Smallville."

Ma smiled, and so did Pa and Conner. "Great," Pa said, picking up his mug and draining his coffee. "Conner, we should probably get going on putting the snowplows on the trucks so we can keep the roads on the farm clear."

Conner finished his breakfast and nodded at Pa, then glanced at Tim and gave him a small smile before following Pa out of the room.

Tim smiled back, and when they were gone he got up to help Mrs. Kent pick up the breakfast dishes, "So, what needs to be done?"

Martha smiled at Tim as he helped her with the dishes. "Well, the tree needs to be put up and decorated. Jonathan bought one of those artificial trees that's already strung with lights, so we don't need to wrestle with that at least. Just setting it up and putting on the ornaments and the topper."

"That doesn't sound like it will take long," Tim said, raising an eyebrow at her a little, to confirm that.

"Not too long, hopefully. We'll probably be done before the boys are back. They won't just plow the farm roads. They'll probably insist on going and checking on some of the neighbors and plowing the roads to their houses and from our farm to town, give the town more time to clear the in town streets."

Nodding, not really surprised that they were so thoughtful, Tim put the newly cleaned mugs up where he'd seen Conner get them from and commented, "That's kind of them."

Chuckling, Martha finished putting away the dishes and wiped off the counter. "We all tend to take care of each other out here in storms like this. And, if I can be honest with you, Jonathan and Conner get restless if stuck indoors too long. Going out to check on neighbors keeps a bit of harmony in the family." She didn't mind telling that to Tim. Judging from their reactions to each other, Martha suspected Tim and Conner might be interested in each other, and if Tim's family did build a plant in Smallville, well, Tim might be around more. Better to know now that Conner didn't believe in staying inside during bad weather.

Tim shook his head, eying the window like the snow was going to start blowing in any minute, "I'd rather stay inside, personally, but to each their own."

Martha patted Tim's shoulder. "So do I. Hence us in here, decorating the tree." She led Tim to the living room. The tree was still in its box, and the ornament bins, the new plastic bins Conner had bought for her while on a trip to Metropolis to see Clark, were neatly arranged on the floor nearby, each labeled with its contents. "First thing is to get the tree up."

Observing the room, Tim nodded firmly, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work, reading the labels to figure out which boxes the tree was in. Opening the box he asked, "Is there anything in particular I need to do to set this up?"

"Just pay attention to the parts that say top, middle, and bottom," Martha said as she opened up the box with the tree skirt and the padding that went underneath the tree stand to protect the wood floor. "We messed them up one year and the tree looked extremely odd."

Laughing a tiny bit at that mental picture, Tim nodded, "I can do that." It didn't, in fact, take a genius to figure out how to put the tree together, so it was put together ten minutes later. Tim stepped back to eye it critically and asked, "Is it supposed to tilt like that?"

Looking up, Martha frowned. "Not usually. We might need to fix that," she said, getting up. "I'll try to pull it straight and you can fix the stand when it is?"

"Sure..." Tim did as she instructed, and between the two of them they had it straight a few minutes later. Brushing fake pine needles off his borrowed sweatshirt, Tim looked the tree over again, "Well, now my inexperience in this field is no longer obvious."

Martha patted Tim's shoulder and brushed a few more needles off. "Don't feel bad, Christmas trees tend to defeat even the experienced when you least expect it." She knelt down to spread the tree skirt around the stand, fussing until it was neatly placed. Standing, she smiled at Tim. "You want to do the honors of plugging it in?"

He startled a little when she touched him, not at all used to how casual the Kents were about physical contact, and shook his head, smiling a little, "I'll leave that to someone who knows enough to fully appreciate it."

"Then you'll just have to tell me how it looks." Martha made sure all the connections between tree sections were plugged in, and then plugged the final one into the wall.

Watching the tree light up, Tim felt another odd moment of disconnection, though it was a pleasant sort of feeling. It went without saying that he'd never put up a Christmas tree, but there are been a few times when he was growing up that he wished he had the same normal families that the other kinds at school did, and around the holidays that inevitably meant a Christmas tree with misshapen childhood ornaments and blinking lights. Naked as this tree currently was, it felt like he was back in one of his old day dreams, and it took him a second to answer, "It looks great."

Martha smiled at Tim, seeing emotion flash across his face. She moved back to pat his shoulder again. "Now for the ornaments."

Tim reflected that he would probably get used to the unexpected touching about five minutes before he flew home, when it wouldn't do him any good. Nodding, he opened up the ornament box, just looking at them for a second before he gently picked up a macaroni noodle wreath with a picture of a messy-haired little boy in the middle and Conner's name dangling on a cardboard plaque underneath, "Do they go on in a particular order or place?"

Pulling out the angel ornament that Conner's mother had given him before she and Clark separated, Martha shook her head. "No, we put them where they look good, though bigger ones look better if you find a place where the tree branches create a hole of sorts." She set the angel aside. Conner liked to put that one up himself.

There was no reason at all for this to feel like he was under pressure, but he still did, and to distract himself as well as learn more about the Kents, he held up the ornament in his hand before he carefully hung it on the tree, "How old was Conner when he made this?"

"Six. Kindergarten project. He had his father mail it to us, he was so proud of it." She pulled out another ornament, this one a snow globe ornament of Gotham. "I'd forgotten about this one. Clark brought it back after an extended assignment. You should be the one to put this on the tree," she said, holding it out to Tim.

Taking it, Tim had to smile a little, leave it to Gotham to remind him about her, even hundreds of miles away, "Clark is a reporter, right? What was he working on?"

"He is, and it was an investigative piece on Wayne Enterprises and the problems one of their products was having, and the company CEO at the time covering up his sweetheart deals to line his own pockets at the expense of the customers. Man lost his job and the owner finally stepped up and took the reins back, if I recall right."

Hanging up the ornament, Tim nodded with a small frown, "He did. Drake Industries sometime competes with Wayne Enterprises, my father wasn't happy Wayne came back to take over."

"I imagine he wasn't." Martha picked up a few more ornaments and started putting them on the tree. She smiled at one of them and turned it towards Tim. 'Baby's First Christmas' it said, with a picture of an infant Conner in the middle of the silver rattle. Conner's eyes were closed and he was sucking on his thumb contentedly.

Tim had to smile, shaking his head with a little laugh, "Is he *always* happy?"

"It takes a lot to make him unhappy," Martha said, hanging the ornament. "Unfortunately, 'a lot' can be summed up in two words: his mother." She frowned, then shook her head. "But that's not a story for Christmas." And it was more Conner's, or Clark's, story to tell than hers.

Knowing what it was like to have things he didn't want to talk about, Tim nodded and made a mental note not to bring her up. Changing the subject he gestured at a picture of the family on the wall, "Is that Conner's father? They look a lot alike."

Martha smiled. "Yes, that's Clark. He and Conner are spitting images of each other, if you catch them at the right angle. But different personalities." She hung an ornament that Clark had made in school on the tree. "Very different."

"How so?" Tim would admit he wasn't above asking Mrs. Kent about Conner to find out more about him, especially since Mrs. Kent didn't seem to mind.

"Clark always wants to be out there, saving the world, one story at a time. If that means he drops everything to head to Gotham for three weeks, or London for a month, he's willing to do it. Which is why Conner came to live with us when he was ten. Before then, if we wanted to see our grandson, we'd go to Metropolis. Too many visits home were canceled."

Pulling out the stained glass angel made by one of Jonathan's great-aunts, Martha looked for the best place on the tree for it. "Conner's much quieter, much happier to be here on the farm, dealing with farm issues and gossipy small town life."

"It must have been difficult, growing up like that," Hanging up a little white dog bone with Krypto's name painted on it, Tim glanced over at her as he went to pick up more ornaments.

"For Conner, it was, at least until he came here." Connor had blossomed after living on the farm for a few months, away from the toxic end of Clark and Alexa's relationship. "Sometimes, he's more son than grandson," she admitted, "but either way, I'm proud to have him call me Ma."

"I can see why, he's a good man," Tim agreed, hanging a yarn ornament with far more focus and care than it required. Suddenly flirting with Conner seemed like a terrible idea. If he'd had that much uncertainty in his childhood, starting to get involved with someone who lived halfway across the country could hardly be the best thing for him.

"He is," Martha agreed. She glanced sidelong at Tim. "I know he and Jonathan plan on Conner taking over the farm someday, but I wonder, if Conner found the right person, he'd move to be with them, no matter where they lived. Even if it meant giving up the farm."

"I've known him for less than a day and I know he wouldn't be happy anywhere else," Tim commented, looking over to meet her eyes.

"If he found home with the right person, he'd be happy anywhere," Martha said, meeting Tim's eyes levelly.

Using the excuse of needing to get another ornament, Tim turned away, "People say things like that, like romance will overcome any hurdle, but the real world doesn't work that way."

"You never know if you don't try," Martha said softly, but she dropped the subject and went back to putting up the few ornaments they had left. She paused and looked in the final box. "What do you think, star or angel for the tree topper?"

Looking over at the tree, Tim considered, "What's the significance of them?"

"Other than I prefer the angel and Jonathan prefers the star?" Martha shrugged. "Neither of them are family heirlooms. We just try to change it up every few years or so."

Nodding slowly, Tim gave he a little smile and held up his hands, "I'm staying out if it then, I don't want to get in the middle of a difference of opinions between family members, even a minor one."

Martha smiled. "Well, since you're spending Christmas with us, we'll put up the star."

"Why the star?" Tim asked curiously, studying the tree and shifting a branch slightly to cover a gap.

Pulling out the star, Martha checked it to make sure all the lights worked. "Well, Christmas does occur during Hanukkah this year, so it seems appropriate to have a star instead of an angel, even if it's not the Star of David."

Though Tim hadn't celebrated Hanukkah since his parents had decided he was too old for it, nearly thirteen years now, the gesture was touching and he gave Mrs. Kent a small, shy smile, "Thank you."

Martha smiled back at him. "You're welcome, Tim."

Part Two