Clark walks into the kitchen where his mother is snapping pole beans for supper. He paces around seemingly lost in his thoughts.

     "Clark, sit down, you're making me nervous," Martha says, her eyes smiling, assuming he's still beating himself up about his falling out with Chloe.

     He reluctantly takes a seat at the table next to her. Still not able to contain his nervous energy, he fidgets with a bean, tapping it against the table. Martha, slides it out of his fingers, placing her hand on his, "Clark, is everything okay?"

     Clark cannot bring his eyes to meet his mother's, not sure where to even begin to tell her what he learned about Audrey. He was still struggling with the news himself.

     Audrey having a baby inevitably meant that Lex was going to be a father, news Clark knew would mean the world to his friend. He had known for sometime that Lex secretly longed for a life of normalcy, and to be able to start fresh with a family of his own was an opportunity Clark wished he could relish. Yet, he feared what repercussions reuniting Lex and Audrey would have in regards to his own future. The residence of that fear saddened him, feeling that the need to protect his own secret far outweighed the benefits this discovery afforded Lex.

     "Clark, What is it?î Martha asks again. Reading her son's face, she sees that something serious was upsetting him.

     "I saw something today," Clark begins, stopping himself quickly, realizing he didn't even check to see if the coast is clear. "Is Audrey around?" he asks in a whisper, craning his head to look for her down the hall.

     "She's lying down. She didn't feel very well, why?" Martha asks, her curiosity level rising. "What did you see?"

     "I was helping dad find the keys" he begins "using my X-Ray vision," he adds in a hushed voice.

     Martha's eyes possess a hint that she already knows where this is leading, but she patiently listens, waiting for Clark to reveal his discovery to her.

     Clark begins to delicately share the details of what he found out about Audrey with his mother, feeling relief to be able to share this secret with someone.

     Although her son's revelation was information her intuition has already informed her of, hearing the words spoken from her son seemed to conjure up emotions she didn't realize she had about the situation. The fact that Audrey had been given a gift that Martha had so long hoped for made her feel a pang of jealousy, and it embarrassed her that she was envious of the one positive thing Audrey has in her life.

     "I don't know how to explain to her how I know," Clark says, pulling his mother out of her thoughts.

     Looking into his eyes, Martha is instantly reminded that she had already been given a precious gift.

     "Clark, there's some secrets women have to share in their own time," she says, a knowing glimmer in her eyes.

******
 

     Audrey is leaning over the sink, peeling potatoes, the afternoon sun warming her cool complexion as she gazes out the kitchen window at the peaceful pasture. Without effort she removes the skins in one continuous spiral, illustrating her artistic flare in even the simplest tasks.

     "Don't tell me the Kents have managed to domesticate you already, Ms. Peyton," a voice calls from the doorway. Audrey's hands tense, causing her to prematurely sever the perfectly coiled peel sending it spiraling down towards the sink.

     She closes her eyes, praying the voice is only in her head. Tightly gripping the peeler, she turns, revealing herself to the man from whom she has been running, the man who has finally managed to corner her.

     "Mr. Luthor," she stammers, instinctively adjusting the apron that is tied around her midsection, still clutching the peeler in her hand.

     Lionel moves towards her, picking up a peeled potato out of the sink. "I admit it has been some time since I've had the pleasure, but I don't believe I recall Gazpacho containing potatoes" he says, watching her out of the corner of his eye. He gently tosses the potato into the air, catching it quickly, making her uneasy with his familiarity of her, and jest in making it known.

     "I wouldnít know, I haven't made Gazpacho in some time," she says, brushing her shoulder against his as she walks away from him.

     "That's unfortunate, I heard you had quite the talent for it," he says with a sly smile, looking over his shoulder at her.

     Audrey's heart pounds, hoping against hope Martha will return early from her trip to the store. Her eyes follow him as her moves away from the sick, closing in on her.

     "I'm disappointed, Ms. Peyton. I had hoped you gleaned from our last conversation the limits in regards to your proximity of my son," he says circling her, the warmth of his breath on her neck, and the tone of his voice sending a chill up her spine.

     Backed up into the table, she clutches it, whitening her knuckles from the force of her grip. If it weren't for the solid oak to which she clings, she would've already succumbed to him. The frightening reality of facing this powerful man feels too much to bare. His sheer presence strikes fear into her heart.  Feeling defiance is her only hope against him, she summons the final shred of strength she has within her, straightening her back as she stands up to him, "I don't recall there being much conversation the last time we met."

 "Indeed, I don't recall you putting up much of a fight, perhaps that's the quality Lex found most appealing about you. But, apparently your listening skills are equally lacking as well."

     Fueled by his insult, she indignantly asks, "Why do you care so much if Lex and I are together?"

     His lips curls into a devilish grin, impressed, and able to instantly recognize the flare in her that proves she's the closest match to the one Lex has so long searched for. "I once knew a woman very much like you, Ms. Peyton," he begins, holding his hands behind his back leaning towards her as he speaks the words. "Delicate beauty and indomitable spirit make for an intoxicating combination," he says, brushing a wayward lock of her hair away from her cheek. "However, those fooled by such gifts often find themselves suffering fates similar to those entranced by the tragic beauty of Helen of Troy".

     Fighting to stand despite the crushing pain in her chest and weakness in her knees, Audrey holds her head high, her eyes disguising her consternation to the best of their ability. Lionel, although amused by her ability to maintain composed, moves in for the kill.

     "My son's psychotic break invoked behavior a man of his prominence cannot afford. Fueled by his hallucinations he formed liaisons detrimental to the future I have secured for him. Such bonds with inferiors caused him to view stories of fiction as though they were fact, but let me assure you Ms. Petyon, the fairy tale is over."  He steps back, withdrawing from his attack. "I hope you enjoyed our conversation more this time, Ms. Peyton." He spins on his heels, and sweeps out of the room.

     Audrey stands frozen, still gripping the peeler in her hand as she clings to the table, unable to let go for fear she will crumble to the ground.
 

******
 

     Lex breezes into the Talon, seemingly lost in his thoughts and the stack of documents he has in his hand. His uncharacteristic preoccupation hinders him from noticing the 'Wet Paint' sign on the counter.

     "Lex!î Lana shouts, hoping to stop him from running directly into the wet paint. Unfortunately her warning is a moment too late, he has already brushed his coat right across it.

     Lana cringes, covering her eyes with her hands, fearing the decision to freshen up the front of the counter while the Talon is open was a bad decision. Looking down at his ruined Dolce and Gabana coat Lex is obviously annoyed. He sets down the stack of papers on the counter, shaking his head, letting out a frustrated sigh of a laugh.

     "I'm so sorry," Lana says, coming around the counter with a wet rag, not sure really how she's going to help, but wanting to try. She begins brushing off his jacket with the wet rag, actually just rubbing the paint in deeper, making the stain worse.

     Lex takes a step back, feeling something...

     Lana, fearing his distance is evidence of how he feels about her decision to paint, takes the step towards him. Diligent in her pursuit to make things right, and be forgiven, she rubs harder, desperately trying to work the stain out. Suddenly a pang of modesty strikes her, making her aware of how familiar her hands on Lex might be perceived. She pulls back, holding the rag in her hand, peering up at him with wide eyes.

     Lex, too, was struck with a pang of familiarity, but it did not stem from the awkwardness of Lana's hands on him. He felt he had experienced this same scenario before; Paint on his coat, and the gentle brushes of someone desperate to remove it. The bewildering feel of deja vu was something he seemed to be experiencing more frequently lately.

     Still reeling from the uncertainty of the moment, he finds himself rubbing his forefinger and thumb together. The sensation of wet paint sliding between his fingers sends a flood of emotions through his mind.

     "Lex?" Lana says, trying to snap him out of the trance that is evident on his face. "Lex!" she says louder, grabbing his forearm. The touch of her hand grasping him out of the flashes of distant memories running through his mind.

     "Are you okay?" she asks, frightened by his odd behavior.

     "I'm fine," he says, "just fine."