Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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*Ten years later*
Time whirled by in a blur. One minute Silvia was moving back in with Clark and the next they had their own farm. That wasn't to say that it wasn't difficult saving up for such a vast expanse of land, but being together made everything worthwhile.
It took a few months for Silvia to organise her head space, and sometimes she still found it hard to accept that he was alive, but after that she had decided she never wanted to be without Clark again - as evident by the farm they now owned together. It was a cosy place with four small rooms and a decently sized kitchen. Clark had built the place himself after they purchased the property, and he ensured that Silvia's posters did not ruin his masterpiece.
She did, however, find a place for them when Conner moved out. His aging had slowed down tremendously, so much so that now he was growing too slowly. In the ten years since Clark had returned the boy had only advanced four years, meaning that he was still only eighteen. He had, however, inherited her love of old action movies and offered to take them off her hands. Silvia gladly gave him all but two - her Terminator poster and Arnold Schwarzenegger figure.
Eventually she managed to convince Clark to let her keep them in their room... and by 'convince', she meant that she put the poster up and threatened that if he took it down she'd move out. Arnold was always number one.
Their mornings usually followed a routine, and these early hours were no exception. Silvia had already set a cup of coffee on the table for Clark by the time he walked out of their bedroom. His sweet tooth still hadn't been sedated even after ten years; full cream milk, four spoonfuls of sugar, a hint of chocolate, and whipped cream.
As Silvia turned from the table and approached the stove top, she plucked several pieces of crackling bacon and eggs from the piping hot pans with a pair of tongs. She dropped them messily onto a bare plate as Clark's voice called "Looks like I'm just in time."
Silvia took this moment to hold the plate in front of her as she spun to look at her husband, a mock smile on her face. It quickly vanished when she noticed Clark's newly trimmed hair. "What do you think?" He asked anxiously.
For the last decade or so, he had kept the long hair length, but shaved regularly. Today however, Silvia noticed that his hair was as short as it was when they first met, but his face was adorned with a short beard that had appeared within the last week or so.
"I was going to shave later today. After I went into town to grab a few things. Do you need anything?"
"Don't shave. I like it." Silvia complimented, setting Clark's breakfast onto the table.
He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a red flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up. Clark paced over to Silvia, pecking her on the forehead. He quipped "Thanks, hon."
"You know, hearing you say thank you every single morning for ten years because I made you breakfast is starting to get old."
Smirking the way he always did when he said something clever, Clark lowered himself into the seat by the cup of coffee and plate of breakfast. "All the more reason for me to keep going."
