The youngsters in question had made a mistake, and now they were paying for it under Worten’s watchful gaze. He was in his fifties, with a stoic, often grouchy demeanor that some townsfolk put down to Worten never marrying. Those who knew him better realized the cop had a chip on his shoulder the size of one of Smallville’s infamous meteoroids. He thought he was too good for the sleepy little town and had often expressed a desire for his boss, Sheriff Ethan’s job.

Being the Sheriff of Lowell County was an elected position however, and no one was going to vote for Markus Worten. He simply gave off the wrong vibes.

The cop raised a thick bushy brow that looked totally out of proportion to the rest of his face, then scowled when one of the kids in the field before him stopped working. When the facial expression alone didn’t elicit a response he stepped forward, placing a hand on the weapon attached to his belt. It was a threatening pose that gave him great pleasure and a sense of authority.

“Didn’t I tell you two I wanted this done by my shift’s end?” Worten glowered again at the teen who had paused, “Andy, do you want me to go tell your father what I caught you doing? Now get this darn mess cleaned up!” The bark sounded like a gunnery sergeant’s command.

Andy Lockridge pulled a face but didn’t dare argue back. Instead, he looked to his girlfriend apologetically and began to pick up more trash. The whole field was full of empty beer cans, pizza boxes and a plethora of other party items that had been left behind the previous evening. Lockridge wouldn’t have minded playing janitor, but he hadn’t even been to the party.

Trisha Johnson, his girlfriend, felt much the same way. “Tell me again why we’re cleaning up someone else’s good time?” There was scorn in the young blonde’s voice as she eyed Andy and then the cop who scrutinized their every move.

“Because I decided to see just how fast my 'Vette would go down Hickory Lane.” Lockridge sighed as he picked up a small meteor rock and tossed it into a separate box to all the trash. They had a growing collection of the strange minerals at the order of the local cop. “And because Deputy Worten decided it was this or a nice visit to the local court…”

Trisha scoffed. “If you’d have slowed down instead of making him chase us half way through the county.” She glanced back, rubbing her arms as the chill began to get to her coatless form. “I wonder what that weirdo cop wants with the rocks anyway?” She dared to steal a glance back and was rewarded with Worten’s steely gaze.

Andy shrugged and picked up a larger rock, along with the last of the discarded Pepsi cans. “Who cares? Let’s just get out of this crazy twilight zone. That’s the last of the garbage. Let’s move our butts before he finds another field to clean up!”

Trisha didn’t argue. She hadn’t told Andy, but the guy who’d set up this particular party the previous evening was having another get together not half a mile away. If they hurried, they could get there before the fun started. Next time I clean up, I’m at least having the fun of making the damn mess!

Worten smirked as the teens dumped several black trash bags at the edge of the field and placed a half full box of meteor rocks along side them. “Now just wait a minute there.” His right hand subconsciously slipped over his gun again even though he couldn’t use it. Violence just seemed to be in his nature. “You two take the garbage with you!”

Andy and Trisha groaned simultaneously but loaded the refuse sacks into the 'Vette’s tiny trunk without as much as a murmur. Andy’s dad was a local politician, and a son with a record would not go down well.

Worten observed the couple’s departure like a spy on a mission. Once he was sure the two kids had followed his instructions, he picked up the box of meteor rocks and loaded them into his cruiser’s trunk. The small carton was surprisingly heavy, and Worten reminded himself to ask for more money once he delivered his ‘stash.’

With a glance at his wristwatch, the cop realized he was now officially off duty. He would need to hurry to his next destination before someone wondered why he hadn’t turned in his car for the night.

Gunning the gas, Worten flicked on his car’s rotating lights but avoided using the siren. Once he was in half a mile of his destination he flicked them off again, along with the headlights. Where he was going, no one else should follow.

Turning the cruiser down a small, potholed road, Worten kept a tight grip on the wheel. No other car had traveled the track in many a year, and keeping control of the steering as the tires fell into deep ruts in the earth wasn’t easy. He kept the Ford to a snail’s pace; ploughing through bushes and bracken that gave the appearance he had hit a dead end, until he finally broke through into a small clearing.

Worten hit the brakes and knocked the shift lever into reverse, backing up the Crown Victoria to a tiny opening in what looked like a rock face. To anyone who didn’t know better, the deputy had just driven up to nothing more than a cave entrance. He glanced around warily, feeling a thousand eyes on him out of sheer paranoia.

After a second, Worten climbed out and adjusted his utility belt as he walked to the trunk. It was such a habit he didn’t know he even did it anymore, but it made the cop feel important. He checked his watch again. If he didn’t hurry, Eileen the dispatcher would be calling him as part of routine security, and he couldn’t exactly tell her his location, at least not truthfully.

Instead of dwelling on the fact, Worten grabbed the box of meteor rocks and scurried into the nearby opening in the rock face. It was dark inside, the damp walls and rotting wooden supports making the passageway smell musty and almost deathlike. The deputy shuddered and pushed away the thoughts of being entombed, replacing them with dollar signs as he moved down the tunnel. He had a whole hoard of booty down here just waiting to be cashed in, and the more he collected, the quicker those dollars would roll into his bank account down at the savings and loan.

Worten stopped and suddenly gave a deep-throated chuckle as he tugged his flashlight from his belt and swayed it around in an arc. The whole inner cavern of his little hideaway was filled with buckets, boxes, and plastic tubs, and every single one of them gave off an unearthly green glow as his beam of light hit them. The cop placed the box he carried down with one arm and grinned. He didn’t know how, but over the past few months he felt sure he’d collected every damn meteorite in Smallville…

~*~

Thursday morning, Lex parked his car around the corner from the Talon in the usual space. People had gotten so used to him choosing that spot in particular that most of the time they left it for him. Not so very long ago he’d parked in this very space and there’d been a crate of watermelons on the sidewalk. Today there was a plump blond middle- aged woman struggling to get an eight foot tall Christmas tree straight in its stand.

Lex climbed out of his car, holding onto the ends of his red and green plaid scarf to be sure that they didn’t catch in the door as he closed it. “Morning, Mrs. Hanson,” he greeted and went straight up to the tree, reached through the branches and grabbed the trunk to hold it steady for her. “Hope you don’t mind a hand?”

“Not at all!” she said gratefully. “Thank you.” She pushed the tree a little to the right and then bent to tighten the bolts in the stand. Once satisfied that her tree was straight, she motioned for him to let go. Lex stepped back and then the older woman reached out to brush a few pine needles off his coat for him. “I’d have been there all day trying to get that straight.”

“No problem,” Lex grinned and felt genuinely glad to have helped her. “I’ll have to stop by later and see how it looks when it’s finished.”

“The decorations won’t be up until tomorrow sometime. I just like to let it stand here a little while and have time to dry out.” She smiled to him and brushed yet another pine needle off his scarf.

Lex chuckled and wondered how many he’d gotten on himself, and saw a few more on his sleeve and brushed them away. “Dangerous work.”

“I can’t argue with that,” her eyes sparkled. “Oh, I almost forgot. Mrs. Kent’s boy is going to put the decorations up on my tree. She sends him every year. I know he’s a friend of yours. Maybe you’d like to help him?”

Lex smiled, happy that someone would think to include him in a Christmas ritual. He’d never decorated a Christmas tree before, but he didn’t think it could be too hard. “I’d be delighted, Mrs. Hanson.”

“I’ll be looking for you both sometime tonight or Saturday afternoon,” she said with a wink. “You have a good day now.”

Lex grinned and went on his way to get his morning coffee.

~*~

As usual, the Talon was a busy place in the morning. There was a line of people at the counter waiting for coffee, and more than half the seats were full of regulars. Pete and Clark were at a booth table with their coffee cups in hand already. Chloe arrived and threw herself down on the seat next to Clark so that he and Pete knew she was in a bad mood.

“Hey! Chill out, girl!” Pete said with a little scowl. He was not surprised that she was in a bad mood, because it was normal for her in the morning.

“Chloe?” Clark wondered to his anxious girlfriend. He thought that maybe he’d forgotten a date with her and she was angry at him now. Nothing came to mind though, and he thought to himself that if it was really him she was mad at, then she would have already started to yell at him.

Chloe slapped a copy of the school’s newspaper down on the table, nearly knocking Pete’s coffee cup over, but he was quick to catch it. He lifted his brows at Clark, and then took the paper. “Town Square lights up for Christmas this weekend?” Pete read the headline curiously and looked at Chloe. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the matter with a tree lighting?”

“It’s junk! I have nothing good to print!” Chloe glowered angrily.

“Oh, you mean the supply of meteor freaks is running short,” Pete teased her. “Keep on looking Chloe, maybe there’s a mutant out there who looks like the Grinch, and he’s planning on stealing everything Christmas Eve.”

Clark laughed at Pete’s humor, and decided to bring it a step further. “I heard someone stole a Santa suit from the costume shop last night. Maybe you could look into that, Chloe. We could go on a hunt for the missing Santa suit.”

“Oh, shut up!” she growled, and stole a sip of coffee from Clark’s mug and made a horrible sour face. “UGH! Clark! Why the hell do you do that to your coffee?”

“That ain’t coffee, Chloe,” Pete said in a good-natured tone and shot a silly look at Clark. “He just orders a cup of hot corn syrup and has Lana add some coffee extract to it.”

“Yuck!” Chloe announced and pushed the cup away. Clark lifted his shoulders in an innocent shrug and took back his coffee mug. Chloe rolled her eyes, motioned for a waitress and asked for a real cup of coffee. “This is crazy. It’s Christmas and there should be something going on somewhere in this town. Everyone’s too good to each other here. Even the usual troublemakers aren’t making trouble. I had nothing good for this week, and there’s nothing for next week either. Who’s gonna buy the paper when the biggest headline reports something that everyone already knows every detail about? The only reason that’s the big news this week is because the only other thing I had to print was about the Homecoming Queen running for class president for next year. I refuse to make that brat the headline!” Especially when the real headline is about me. Yeah, the one headline I'll never print. 'Torch Editor's parents unknown.’

“Patty Vandalla is running for class president?” Clark scowled down at the table. “Isn’t it like three months too early for the candidates to be making their decisions public?”

“Yah!” Chloe intoned too loudly. The waitress returned with her coffee mug and put it down for her hastily along with the ticket stub. “Thank goodness, real coffee!” Chloe said with relief. Pity I don't have a real father or mother to match it. Going through Gabe's things seemed such a good idea but...Chloe winced. She couldn't bring up the previous night. Not here, not now. She'd found letters addressed to some unknown person. Were they from my mom to me? She shook herself and returned to the conversation with a dour expression.

“Maybe you could do a story on Clark’s coffee preference,” Pete teased. “Teen boy makes the Guinness book of World Records for drinking coffee with the most sugar in it.”

Clark looked a little nervous and grinned innocently. “I like my coffee like this!”

Lex, who’d just entered the Talon a few seconds ago, happened to catch Pete’s joke and Clark’s complaining remark. Pete saw him and Lex tried to not take it to heart when the teen seemed to get a little stiff. Pete had never said anything rude to him, and he was nothing if not civil, but that was the extent of it. He rarely felt welcome in Clark’s social group when Pete was there. He decided he wouldn’t join them this morning, but didn’t want to be anti-social. “Hey,” he greeted the three at the table. Chloe and Clark greeted him pleasantly enough, and so did Pete. “I just passed by Mrs. Hanson, Clark. She asked me if I wanted to help you decorate her tree this year.”

Clark’s eyes and mouth opened, so Lex knew his friend had forgotten about his Christmas ritual. “I’m free Saturday afternoon.”

“Sounds good. I’ll pick you up if you want around eleven thirty.” Lex said, and Clark nodded.

Lex looked around for Lana, but didn’t see her. Usually she was pretty quick to bring him his coffee or to send someone else to hand it to him. “Where’s Lana?”

“Probably still packing half of what she owns to go to Metropolis for the weekend,” Chloe said with a teasing smile.

“She got picked for that after all.” Lex smiled, remembering Lana had said something about an Equestrian event she hoped to get picked for. “I’ll catch you later, Clark,” he said and went to the counter to get his coffee.

~*~

Derek Moriman was very careful to watch people from a distance, especially those who were eating. He’d learned over the years of living on the street that the best sources of food were families with little kids. He kept a particularly sharp eye on a woman who was sitting in a parked caravan with her four children. They were eating fast food from the burger joint and it all smelled very good. He kept to the shadows of an alley so they wouldn’t notice him and get frightened away. He watched them eat quickly and listened to the mother go over the schedule of the day. One had a dentist appointment, and the other had to make sure she got to her music lesson on time. He barely paid attention to what they were saying. What was more important was that the kids were starting to drop all their leftovers in the white takeout bag their mother passed around to them.

A little girl in a pink coat got out of the caravan, carried the enormous bag of leftovers to a garbage can and dropped it in. Derek waited until she got back to her family and the car drove away down the road toward the elementary school before he snatched the bag out of the garbage. To a homeless man like himself, catching the remains of their morning meal was like winning the lottery. The woman always bought a lot more than she and her children could eat. The bag was heavy, so he knew he’d have enough to eat for a couple of days if he could resist the temptation to eat it all at one time.

“Yer loitering again, old man!” A gruff voice said from behind.

Derek grasped his precious bag full of warm food tightly, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He turned around to face Deputy Markus. He hated the bastard, but he was at the man’s mercy and there wasn’t a damn thing he could ever do about it as long as he lived on the street. “What do you want, Markus?”

The Deputy snatched the bag out of his hands. “You should know better than to steal county property!”

Derek glared at the deputy, but there was nothing he could do about it. The only one who would stop Markus was the sheriff, but the deputy was always careful to make sure Ethan was nowhere in sight when he wanted to antagonize him. “Just let me go, Deputy! I don’t want no trouble! Just leave me alone!”

Markus felt that it was his duty to keep this kind of filth out of sight where it belonged. The citizens of the community didn’t need to be assaulted by the stench of twenty-year-old body odor. Before he could get a hold of Derek, he saw a man and a woman coming around the corner. He knew the pair to be a couple of Christmas do-gooders, and they wouldn’t understand why he was trying to get Derek out of their sight. He’d have to leave the bum alone for now. “You go on and find somewhere else to loiter around old man!” he sneered and started to walk away from him. “I don’t want to see you around here anymore disrupting these businesses.” He carried the bag of food away into the alley and dumped it all over the ground and then walked on it so that even a starving homeless slob like Derek wouldn’t want to eat it—unless he wanted to lick it up off the ground, he thought.

~*~

Derek walked away with his shoulders slumped. He was so hungry his head hurt and so pissed off that he wanted to cry, but that was just a waste of energy. He knew that Deputy Markus was probably doing something nasty to that bag of food that would even make a dog turn his nose up at it. Once the bastard had opened a bag of food, urinated in it and then handed it back to him. He’d hated Markus all his life and wondered what he’d done to deserve the treatment he’d been enduring from him all these years and why he’d never found a way to escape the abuse. Just for the sake of avoiding more trouble from the dishonorable deputy, he planned to stay on the street where there were people who could see him, but he’d go to the other side of town to avoid him.

He went a few blocks closer to the heart of the town, checking garbage cans along the way. All he found were dregs in coffee cups, and some smears of frosting on a few muffin wrappers. As he kept on walking, he happened to see a tall dark haired boy standing in front of the old theatre with some other kids and he absent mindedly dropped his coffee cup in the trash, and by the looks of it, Derek knew it was still half full. He’d made the mistake of drinking that boy’s leftover coffee flavored sugar and would never do it again. He kept on walking around the corner, and noticed Lex Luthor’s car. Of all the people in the world who paid him any attention, Lex Luthor was one. He’d made a friend of Lex Luthor just a few days after he’d come to town the year before. He waited for him, hoping the man would give him some cash. He didn’t beg often, but sometimes he really didn’t have a choice. He waited until he heard the tell-tale clicking of the young man’s fancy shoes on the concrete and smiled when he saw him. “Merry Christmas, Lex.”

“Hey, how’s it going, Mr. Moriman?” Lex asked and stopped a few steps away from him, holding a cup of hot coffee in one gloved hand. Derek could smell it and it made his stomach rumble. He drank cold dregs of coffee all the time, but it’d been weeks since he’d had a cup of hot fresh coffee. He wanted to get closer to smell it some more, but he knew better. Lex didn’t want to get to close to him and he knew why. He stank to high heaven after all, but at least Lex didn’t sneer at him about it like most people did. He just tactfully stood so the wind blew at his back, and Derek knew he did that on purpose.

“Same old thing, different day.” Derek answered and started to ask for some money. He didn’t like to ask, because Lex always lectured him about some damn fool offer he didn’t want to be bothered with. He was so hungry though that if he didn’t get some food soon he was going to try to eat someone’s Christmas tree. “Hey, uh…Lex, I was wondering if…”

“HEY LEX!” A young voice called, and Derek looked down the street. He saw the dark haired boy who’d been in front of the Talon coming around the corner at an easy jog. Lex turned around and smiled a greeting at the overgrown kid. Derek didn’t know the name of the dark haired boy. He’d never gotten any money from him, but that was all right because the kid hadn’t ever thrown anything at him or called him any kind of names either. “What’s up?” Lex asked the boy.

“I was kind of hoping for a ride to school?” the boy grinned at Lex. Derek decided to take his leave. He’d never begged money off Lex in front of any of his friends before, and he didn’t want to be the cause of a scene. Young men’s attitudes turned funny when they were around their peers because they wanted to act cool in front of them, he thought and started to slink away. Sometimes they acted one way by themselves, but in front of a friend, even Lex might turn on him and start throwing things at him. He’d learned to not take such behavior personally. After all, boys would be boys and once upon a time, he’d been no different.

“Okay,” Lex said but motioned at Clark to wait a minute, and he turned back to look for Derek. “Hey, Mr. Moriman, wait up.”

Derek stopped his sneaky retreat and looked back hoping and praying that Lex wasn’t going to say something nasty now just to impress his friend. He just wanted to get away and be left alone. He’d have to go dig through the dumpster for whatever scraps he could find, and hope he’d get something better to eat another day. He looked over Lex’s shoulder at the boy apprehensively. Although that one had never hurt him or bothered him, he was still a teenager and he expected someday the boy would harass him.

Lex glanced back at Clark, who was giving Mr. Moriman the usual look of bewildered curiosity. He knew that Derek was shy of people and usually hid or even ran away when he saw certain teenagers. He was glad to see Mr. Moriman was at least not running away from Clark. To him that meant his friend had never accosted the old man. Still, Derek was suddenly very skittish. He didn’t want Mr. Moriman to be afraid of Clark of all people. “This is my friend Clark Kent, Mr. Moriman. I told you about him, haven’t I?” Lex wondered.

“Kent?” Derek barely whispered and outright stared at Clark a little too intently.

Lex saw the curious expression in Mr. Moriman’s eye and wondered what he was thinking. Clark wasn’t afraid of people, but Lex knew he could be shy of them, especially when they seemed to be scrutinizing him a little too carefully. Just as he expected he noticed Clark trying to make himself less noticeable without actually hiding. Lex didn’t blame him. He didn’t like it when people stared at him either. “I thought since both of you live in the same town all your lives you’d know each other already,” Lex said hoping his comment would shed some light on the situation.

“Clark Kent?” Derek said and took a step closer to them both, but somehow Lex was between them now and he couldn’t see the kid clearly. “I’d have never guessed you were a Kent. Are you Hiram Kent’s kin?”

“Hiram was my grandfather,” Clark said simply and waited for the usual questions and suspicious looks. The ones that came right after they said, ‘well, you don’t look a blessed thing like any of the Kents. You certainly don’t look like Jonathan!’

Derek merely chuckled to himself. “Grandfather of a boy yer size? Well, time just marched right on by me! If I was any older than I am, I’d have to fall over and die of a heart attack right here!”

Clark smiled and laughed pleasantly, and Lex felt extremely relieved that his two friends weren’t offended by each other after all. It seemed like Mr. Moriman wanted to start telling them both some stories about his youth. However, Clark had to be in class soon, he had to get to his office for an early appointment. They couldn’t stay to chat.

He handed his coffee cup to Clark to hold for him while he reached for his wallet and pulled out some bills. He didn’t give it to Derek right off though. “You know, it’s starting to get pretty cold,” he spoke casually and looked up at the cloudy sky. “I seem to recall hearing something about a storm coming this weekend. Mr. Moriman, I meant it when I said I’d cover a room charge for you if you’d agree to clean yourself up and work at the soup kitchen.”

“That’s good of you, Lex,” Derek said but he shook his head. “I don’t want to impose on you too much.”

“If you took the job you wouldn’t be imposing on me.” Lex said firmly. Derek caught the wide-eyed innocent expressions of the kid who was listening to the lecture and felt a little embarrassed. He got the same lecture from Lex every time he got money out of him. “My father donates half the money that pays the people who work at the shelter. I’m offering you a job. That’s not charity, that’s putting you to work and giving you a chance to be self-sufficient. If you’d quit being such a stubborn ass, you wouldn’t have to eat out of the trashcan, or sleep in the dumpster with the rats,” Lex said in a mock stern voice.

“Let me think it over,” he answered, but really he just wanted to tell Lex to shut up. He didn’t want to work in some soup kitchen! If only Lex would just quit lecturing him about that. He’d never say that though because he was afraid if he argued back, he wouldn’t get any money.

Lex handed the money over to Derek. “Don’t think about it too long, Mr. Moriman. There are a lot of other people who’d be more than happy to take a job like that.”

Derek took the cash from Lex’s hand and nodded. “Thanks, Lex.”

Lex shrugged. “I’ll see you around.”

Derek nodded and went on his way down the street, tucking the money very carefully into a grimy shirt pocket and buttoning it. He had enough money to eat for a few days, but time would pass by and he’d be so hungry again that he’d be digging through trash heaps looking for potato peals and bits of bacon fat. He envied Lex for the lifestyle he took for granted. He envied that Kent boy too because he’d get to sit in a warm school building all day and read books and laugh with his friends. He disappeared into an alley to take a shortcut to the burger joint. If he went to the back door, they’d give him a lot of food for only a couple dollars. It would be all their leftovers, but that was all right. Warm leftovers were better than cold scraps out of the garbage can after all.

~*~

Clark watched Mr. Moriman walking off down the street and saw him take a turn into an alley. He’d seen the old man before but had never really bothered with him. He always figured the best idea was to just leave him alone. People had always told him that he was an old drunk lunatic who liked to go after kids for no apparent reason, or that he was deaf, or he couldn’t talk, or that he’d murdered someone a long time ago. Now that he’d actually heard him talk, he thought he seemed like an intelligent and well-spoken individual, and he hadn’t been drunk either. He’d just looked hungry.

“I didn’t know you knew that old man, Lex,” he said, making the opening for conversation.

Lex grinned, reached to open his car door and started to speak, but Deputy Markus walked up behind Clark. “LUTHOR!” he shouted angrily.

Clark startled at the sudden arrival of the deputy, and spun around to find the deputy glaring in his face. He hated close scrutiny and backed up. Lex stepped around Clark. He knew Clark’s temper was a lot like Jonathan Kent’s temper, and any second he would probably say something stupid to the deputy out of anger. Markus wasn’t the type who’d see it from Clark’s point of view. Lex could either intervene, or he’d be bailing his friend out of a Juvenile detention center. He put himself in between the angry teenager and the obnoxious deputy. “There a problem, deputy?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to give that old drunk any money?” Markus asked very loudly. “All he’s gonna do is buy booze, get drunk, and make trouble!”

“I honestly don’t see the harm in giving him a few dollars, Deputy,” Lex said with a casual grin. “Whatever he buys will contribute to the economy. If he does start trouble it’ll give local law enforcement something to do bes…”

“Lex…” Clark hissed to warn him to stop talking, and he did manage to stop him from saying whatever else he’d been about to say. But it was much too late. The implication of his unspoken words hung in the air, and the deputy was pissed at him now.

“Not only do you have a serious attitude problem, Luthor,” Markus growled as he pulled out his ticket book. “You also have some very nasty parking habits. You’re too far away from the curb.”

Lex didn’t bother to look, but he knew he was about to get a bogus ticket. Maybe someday, someone would tell him to watch his mouth and he’d listen to that person.

Clark looked down at the distance Lex’s car was from the curb. The wheels were both less than five inches from it. “You can’t write him a ticket for that! Deputy, the tires are…”

The officer glared over the top of his notepad at Clark and then scowled at Lex. “Not to mention the tires seem to be low, and the windows have an illegal tint on them.”

Clark started to object again, but Lex caught his arm to shut him up. “It’s okay, Clark,” he said, mostly because he didn’t want to get cited for contributing to the delinquency of a minor as well. Clark grumbled something almost indiscernible. The deputy didn’t hear it, but Lex did and it was something about self-righteous loud mouths. Lex agreed silently and took the ticket from Markus.

“Since yer so happy to contribute to the local economy, I’m sure you’ll be glad to pay that quickly,” Markus said but looked to Clark. “Better hurry on to school, Clark. I wouldn’t want yer father to think Lex here is the reason yer always late. Now would we?”

Clark glared at the deputy’s back as he walked away down the street and wished just once he could use his heat vision to burn someone’s ass. Lex nudged his arm. “Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”

Clark nodded and got in the passenger side of the car. Lex started the engine, and they drove down the road, Clark glaring. “Calm down, Clark. It’s not a big deal.”

“That was harassment!” Clark scowled out the window in the direction the officer had gone.

“One phone call to my lawyer and the ticket will get written off.” Lex turned a corner, got behind a school bus and slowed down.

“Lex?” Clark wondered, curiosity written all over his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, straining to see what might be in front of the school bus, which completely blocked his view of oncoming traffic.

“Everyone knows that old man is a drunk, and he probably will go buy booze with the money you gave him.”

“Clark, I like to give people at least one chance.”

“I got the impression though that you’ve given him more than one chance.” Clark objected and waved out the window as a car full of teens passed them.

“Mr. Moriman’s not a drunk. He’s just homeless.” Lex seemed to want to say more but stopped to concentrate on navigating through the busy morning traffic.

“Lex, I’ve seen him carrying a bottle. Even if Markus is a complete idiot, I think he’s right.” Clark objected.

“You can’t assume that someone’s an alcoholic just because you’ve seen him with a bottle in his hand.” Lex stopped the car at a light and turned his head to look out Clark’s window. “Look to your right.”

Clark craned his neck and looked out the passenger window and Mr. Moriman waiting at the side entrance of a fast food restaurant. “He does buy food then?”

“Yeah. He buys food with the money I give him. And the only trouble I’ve ever seen him cause is disrupting the contents of garbage cans.” He drove on when the light changed, taking a turn and then going straight for a long way behind a school bus. He turned one last corner, looked at the traffic around the high school and cringed. “Where’s all this traffic coming from? It’s not this bad in Metropolis!” Lex complained.

“You’ll never get through all that. I’ll get out here,” Clark said seeing the tangle of cars and buses. He had to agree with Lex. There was a lot more traffic than usual and thought it probably had something to do with the coming holidays.

Lex couldn’t even see an empty curb space to pull over too, so he just stopped to let Clark out. “Clark, do me a favor?”

“Uh. I’ll try.” Clark said, pausing to look at Lex.

Lex grinned as he pulled his gloves off. “I have no idea how to decorate a tree and I don’t want to have to figure it out by myself. This isn’t like ditching a pool game or a cup of coffee on me. I actually need your help.”

Clark lifted his backpack off the floor and looked at Lex, curiously. “You don’t know how to decorate a Christmas tree?”

“Not a clue,” Lex said dismally as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Oh, you poor little rich boy!” Clark teased.

“Shut up, Clark!” Lex grouched in a mock angry voice. “Get the hell outta my car!”

Clark climbed out laughing and slammed the door. More than a few horns were honking as the tangle of cars was getting way out of hand, but he was glad to see Lex didn’t get stuck in any of it.

~*~

Markus began to follow Derek when he spotted him leaving the rear parking lot of a fast food restaurant. Using a line of cars and morning passersby as cover, he followed the vagrant. He pushed his way through a crowd of people who were admiring the most recent Christmas arrangement the Chinese food restaurant had put up—a tacky display of dragons and reindeer.

At last, he saw Derek return to his usual alley, just around the corner from the Talon. He followed him, and watched from the side of a dumpster while the old man found some garbage bags to sit on. Out of pockets in his old brown coat came food wrapped in white paper that’d been paid for by Lex Luthor. He looks too happy. That rich brat keeps talking to him and giving him money, and I’ll bet he’s paying Derek to give him information. Derek knows about the mine. I’ve seen him give me those suspicious looks, and I bet he’s figured it out. He’s probably been there and seen the rocks! He’ll tell that rich brat about it, and all that money I got coming will end up in someone else’s hands.

“Derek!” he shouted as he stepped out of the shadows.

The old man startled and the food that had been in his hands disappeared almost instantly into one of the many pockets in his old worn out coat. “Deputy,” he greeted respectfully, but his eyes were filled with malevolence.

Markus snatched a hold of the old man by one arm and dragged him further down into the shadows of the alley, and pushed him against the wall.

“Wh-what do you want, Markus?” Derek asked fearfully.

“What’ve you been telling that Luthor boy?” He lifted the old vagrant up off his feet and slammed him against the wall, so that his eyes rolled in his head.

“N-nothing! I didn’t tell him anything!”

“You told him about the mine didn’t you?” Markus growled, lifting one side of his upper lip into an ugly sneer. “I remember you and my sister talking about it like it was yours and you’d someday own it! Like you were waiting to find someone to sell it to! Just gonna marry her so you could take the mine!”

“Why do you care if I told someone about it or not? It’s an empty old hole in the ground that I don’t even remember anymore!” Derek squirmed as he spoke softly; not wanting to attract attention that would make Markus hurt him more. “I haven’t seen it in years! I haven’t been anywhere near it since the entrance fell down! Why would I tell Mr. Luthor about that?”

Even if he hasn’t said anything, I better make sure he never talks! If that rich brat ever finds out about that deal, I’m sure Lionel will find someone else to pay. “You told him something! I know you told him about it!”

“No!” Derek moaned pleadingly. “I didn’t! I swear I never will!”

“You’re a lying piece of filth, Derek!” Markus shouted and threw the old vagrant down on the ground and began to kick him in the gut. “Damn! Worthless! Lowlife!” he threw his foot into Derek’s gut for every word he said…

~*~

Markus walked out of the alley a short time later shaking his head. It’s not my fault that he’s hurt that bad. If he didn’t struggle like that and get his face in the way of my foot, he’d still have a face. I know he won’t talk, but someone’ll find him and take him to the hospital. There’ll be questions. It’s his own fault for defying my authority. With all this nonsense about police brutality, I’ll lose my badge!

He stood thinking. While the tunneling wind from the alley blew at his back, he watched a few young stragglers rush down the street to get to school. The high school boys are always harassing the vagrants, chasing them down the streets, throwing garbage at them, even beating them up or paying them to beat each other. Derek won’t say anything to anyone about the righteous beating he got. It was his own fault, so he’ll know better. I’ll just tell Ethan I saw a couple of kids chase him down the road and that I lost them. If Lex Luthor and that other kid get blamed for beating on Derek, they won’t get into any real trouble. Ethan will probably let me put them to work cleaning garbage out of a field. I’ll have Luthor’s own son picking up meteor rocks out of a field that Lionel will buy from me! And that rich brat’ll be too mad at Derek to want to talk to him again. If I just hang on to this for a few more weeks, the money will be in my hand, and I can get out of this town. I need to make sure that plan will work though. I better find someone who’s willing to lie about Luthor and that Kent boy.

Markus went down the road to his patrol car and dug out a bottle of cheap whisky that he tried to keep on hand all the time. Then walked around the streets, paying extra attention to heaps of trash and piles of newspaper. At last, just a few blocks from the street he’d parked his car, he found another vagrant sitting up against a wall and snoring loudly in the garbage behind the hardware store.

Nark was another one of the homeless who haunted Smallville’s parking lots and alleyways. Markus knew the man hadn’t been born in town, but guessed that Nark had come from Metropolis, hoping a small town would offer more charity. Or maybe he’d come here to escape some debt collectors. Like many of the people who lived on the street, the man’s name had been lost in obscurity, and now he went by the name of ‘Nark.’ Markus lifted one foot to shove the man over onto his side “Wake up Nark! You better be sober!”

The man stirred as he woke, coughed, and looked blearily up at the Deputy Sheriff. A few wads of newspaper he used as extra insulation escaped from inside the filthy ragged clothes he wore. “Why would I be sober on a day like this, Deputy?”

“Quit mouthing off and listen to me!” Markus ordered and held the bottle of whisky up for Nark to see. The pungent man reached for it, but Markus pulled it away. “You can have this after you do what I want you to.”

“I’m listening,” Nark said and stared wantonly at the whisky bottle.

“Good. You’re gonna tell the Sheriff something for me.” Markus said with a grin. Nark listened closely to the deputy.