Smallville: The Art of Flowers

Chapter Three

Saturday mornings were Clark's favorite time, because he was able to sleep in late and not have to worry about the morning chores. It was considered a day off, along with Sundays, for the Kents. Though Clark really didn't sleep, he just enjoyed lying in his bed till about eight, soaking up the sunshine and relaxing, till he finally drags himself out of bed and goes to have breakfast.

"Morning sleepyhead."

"Morning Mom." Replied Clark, super-speeding to the refrigerator, and grabbing the carton of orange juice. Martha, with her back towards her son called out.

"Put that in a glass. I taught you manners."

Clark blinked at his mother. The red headed woman was someone who didn't want to mess with if angered. Martha Kent was a soft spoken person, a kind caring motherly person. She was generous to everyone she met and made them feel welcomed into the Kent home. With fiery red hair and beautiful emerald green eyes, she could have had any man she wanted. She chose the one man she loved and wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

"How do you do that Mom? I thought I had all the super powers here?"

"All mothers have eyes in the back of our heads. They only work when their children are doing things they are not suppose to be doing." She said with a sly grin and mirth in her eyes.

"I wonder if I'll ever get that ability?" Clark joked, putting his juice in a glass. Martha smiled, finishing the batter for the pancakes.

"You will...when you have children of your own who cause all sorts of trouble. Just like you."

"MOM!"

"Just joking Clark. I'm a mother. It's one of our unique qualities."

"Does your unique qualities include finding out stuff? Such as finding and locating mysterious writers of love notes?"

Martha sighed. "No honey. I'm sorry I can't help you with that. You're just going to have to figure that out on your own."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that." Sighed Clark as he sat down at the table, with his glass of orange juice. His mother finished flipping the pancakes, putting them on a plate, and setting them down in front of her son. She gave him a hug.

"Everything will work. You'll see."

"Thanks Mom. I just wish..."

"I know honey. I know."

Martha Kent was no fool. She knew who her little boy was crushing on. Though Lex wouldn't have been her first choice, but if he made her son happy then she could live with that. Though she and Clark had no idea if he even swung in that direction. She sighed. Jonathon would not approve of their son's love for the Luthor boy. He only saw a reincarnation of Lionel Luthor, the spawn of the Devil. Jonathon was to blind by his rage of the Luthor name, that he didn't see Lex's better qualities. Such as running his own business, being there for his friends and their family (One time Martha became severely ill, Lex and Lena came over to help her out on the farm, though she insisted they didn't do that, but they did just for her), helping out the smaller businesses, and so on. But the biggest thing about Lex, was taking care of his little sister. Those two cared so deeply for each other; Martha could feel the brotherly and sisterly love run so deep from them. It was what kept them going, and kept Lex from straying off back to his wild and reckless ways of his youth.

"I just want to know, if this is some kind of prank or a onetime thing. I mean it's nice and all, but...I don't know, it has me on edge for some reason."

"I don't see the harm from being given flowers." said Martha.

"I know...I guess I'm not use to this. Getting gifts from somebody like this. In a way it feels-"

"Nice? Comforting? Romantic?" Clark groaned at his mother's smile and remarks. He really didn't need to hear that from his mother. It was just so embarrassing!

"Mom."

"Oh Clark. Old people can be romantic like you young folks. Why look at me and your father."

"What about me now?" came a voice along with a bang from the kitchen door closing. Both mother and son turned their heads to see a tall man come in, his clothes stained with grease on them, along with his face and hands. He set something down, while grabbing a wash cloth from the sink. "I hope it's nothing bad."

"No Jonathon. I was just telling Clark that we 'old' people can be passionate too." Martha said with a teasing smile. Jonathon raised his eyebrows, and his blue eyes were filled with mischief. He wrapped his arms around his wife.

"Of course we're passionate! How do you think we keep the fire going?" Jonathon smirked kissing Martha on the cheek then to her lips, while she caressed his blond hair.

"Ugh! Not here!" exclaimed Clark, covering his eyes from the sight. That was something that no teenage should see. Parents are so embarrassing!

"What do you want us to do? Get a room?"

"DAD!"

"Oh, honey, your father is just teasing you." Explained Martha enjoying making her son blush, and with one last kiss, she went back to fixing breakfast. Jonathon chuckled and going to the sink to wash his hands. His rough strong calloused hands showed all his strength and hard work that he did on the Kent Farm. The land and the house had been in his family for years, and he wanted to continue their dream. He was an independent but stubborn man, who loved his family dearly. He would fight anyone who dared challenged him or threatened them.

"Speaking of romance, you have another gift." Jonathon said.

Clark spluttered, nearly spitting out his orange juice everywhere. "What?"

"You received another present from your secret admirer." stated Jonathon. He went over to where he placed the material and handed them to his son. Martha stopped what she was doing and went to the table. Grabbing the flowers he placed them into Clark's hands. Tied with the same color ribbons as the first set of flowers, were almond blossoms mixed with amaranths and baby's breath. Beautiful and lovely, making the gift look well balanced. And just like the first time, it came with a card.

My Dearest Clark,

How your hope brightens the day

More so than the rays of the sun,

And the beams of the moon.

Your faith never ending

Reaching even beyond the skies

And passed the stars.

The purity and innocence

Of an immortal angel

Untouched by sin,

Watching over us.

"Oh my," breathed Martha, deeply moved by the words. "That is so beautiful."

"Yeah." Clark whispered, trying so hard not to blush, but failing.

"That something you don't see every day." said Jonathon, looking over the note and the flowers. "Whoever they are, they certainly have the heart of a poet. But unlike this poet, they leave their names signed with it."

It was true. No signature of the mysterious writer and sender of flowers.

"Well...." Martha began, breaking the silence. "The day is young and we need to have a hearty breakfast. We have too much to do today, such as fixing the roof on the barn, checking and feeding the animals..."

Martha went on, serving the food to everybody at the table, trying to change the subject of her son's gift. But Clark kept pondering about the flowers and the poetic messages of himself. Though flattering as they maybe, the young teen needed to know who was sending them and why were they sending them to him.

He needed to know and soon.