(Untitled)

[alls_fair_in]

A black Ford F-350 pickup truck moves along a narrow unpaved road towards the Cooper Farm. The exterior is a mess of cracked glass, dents, bullet holes, scratched paintwork and mud spatter, but it seems to be running smoothly. In the back, a more pristine-looking motorbike is held in place by bungee cords and a large pile of duffel bags, gas cans

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[land_lover]

Eyes on the windshield, Jamie pipes up just long enough to sing "I'm a grinner, I'm a lover and I'm a sinner" in a loud, smooth voice as he lets the truck roll to a stop and idle. He's of the opinion that 'The Joker' suits him. Eleanor's heard a lot of that song lately, though she's gotten quite good at distracting him long enough to grab her iPod back.

"We're somewhere," he answers, draping one arm over the steering wheel and turning his torso just enough to grin at her, apparently unconcerned with what they might find when they exit the truck.

[alls_fair_in]

Eleanor stretches languidly and pops her neck. She then yanks the auxiliary lead out of the truck's stereo, remorselessly cutting off Jamie's anthem mid-refrain.

"Seriously," she mutters.

After a shake of her head and a quick check of the pistol in the nearby cupholder, she peers through the spidery windshield glass, taking in their latest surroundings.

"Huh. It does look pretty civilized around here. Maybe it isn't a trap after all."

She sounds a little disappointed.

[land_lover]

Well we can't have that, can we?

"You're the cutest thing that I ever did seeeeeee," Jamie continues, looking unrepentant at both needling her and skipping a few lines to do it.

The next line, of course, goes without saying. Or singing. He's laughing too hard at her face to finish it, anyway.

"Steve Miller must have been a great American poet," he adds solemnly, hand at his heart and lips twitching. "Shall we look around?"

[alls_fair_in]

"Mmmhm. If you ever want to shake my tree again," Eleanor deadpans, "you'll stop torturing that damn song around me."

For what it's worth, there's a hint of amusement behind her dry gaze. Taking up the gun, she opens the passenger door and hops out, affording Jamie a nice view of her peaches en route.

"Let's do it."

[divisiblebynone]

With the weather warming up (and possible disaster on the way), Clark is working on the farm. Which is why there's a man with a plow strapped to his shoulders making his way smoothly down the fields.

But seeing newcomers to the farm, Clark makes his way over with what he thinks is a reassuring smile. He's not very good at reassuring.

The fact that he's shirtless, and his chest is scarred with the 'Superman' S probably doesn't help much.

[land_lover]

Jamie has come to accept that here, in this bizarre dream of a world, possible disaster is always on the way, every direction they turn. And with that acceptance comes a certain calm; some things just can't be changed.

If he allowed himself to think of everything that was wrong rather than handle each new development as it arises, he'd go mad.

There's something of this single-minded focus on his face as Clark approaches. The smile and the scarred chest are noted and put aside for later thought. It's the plow and Clark's very presence that capture his attention.

He lifts his hand in a wave, aware, as always, of Eleanor at his side.

[alls_fair_in]

Eleanor watches the man's approach as well.

"Yummy," she murmurs, guiltlessly.

The chest scar is more familiar to her than it probably is to Jamie, and it goes some way towards explaining the feat of strength with the plow. Having an Olympian father and a Fable for a mother, and having spent a fair amount of time in Milliways during her youth, she's not too fazed by fictional character meetings.

There's a easy smile waiting for him when he draws close. "Who needs a tractor when you have Superman?"

He might not be Superman, of course. But she took a shot.

[divisiblebynone]

Oh, he's Superman all right. The only real Superman, damn it. Clark leans on the fence, studying the two. An interesting couple all right. "Welcome to the Ke- Cooper farm." He knows it's not his anymore.

[hippos_purros]

Should they happen to look over at their vehicles at some point after they arrive - not a long time, but not a short time either, but instead somewhere in between - they will notice a woman wearing dark red jodhpurs, a lighter leather jacket, and matching riding boots, kicking the tyres of the truck thoughtfully. For someone who seems to have been riding, at least judging by her attire, she looks remarkably un-ruffled - not one hair on her (red, what else?) head is out of place.

[alls_fair_in]

That truck has gotten Jamie and Eleanor out of some seriously tight spots. And Eleanor has put a lot of work in under the hood to keep it running. The last thing she wants is someone messing with it. Or with her bike. So she wanders over.

"Um. Hi. Can I help you?"

[hippos_purros]

No need to worry, there's no messing.

Red turns and leans on teh side of the truck, eyeing the other woman from under her eyelashes. Black-cherry-red lips purse into an amused smile, framing dentist-perfect white teeth (although no dentist has ever seen the inside of her mouth).

"Maybe you can," she drawls, seemingly thoughtfully.

[land_lover]

The sight of a red-haired woman makes Jamie's heart turn over in his chest, no matter that she's too tall, too beautiful, too much. He freezes in place, lower lip caught between his teeth, until she turns and-

(Red like fire, red like blood)

-he sees the woman's face. It's nothing like his mother's. Nothing like you'd expect to see on someone who has lived to adulthood and been marked by life, as all humans are in one way or another. And yet there's something about it that draws Jamie in, makes him want to touch that red hair and ask-

Ask what?

Air hisses out through his teeth as he stares. It's weird, but he feels like he should know her.