Hi Mary!
His mother and father were both teaching classes, right about now, so he couldn't go to them for advice; then again, he already knew what they would likely say.
“Don’t put that dirty rock in your mouth”?
“And just where have you been, all this time?!” a voice snapped, startling him. He looked up to see Susanne at his desk, arms crossed, glaring at him through puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
Did he spend the day and night in Kansas?
“I'm sorry for taking so long at lunch.
*Lunch*?
“What's in it?” she demanded, reaching for it. “Why are you sneaking around with it?”
MICHEL: It’s…just a crystal…
SUSANNE: METH! You’re…you’re…cooking *METH* in your lunch break!
“What is it really? Photos of your undergraduate intern modeling lingerie? Love letters from your wife in Brussels?”
She’s…she’s…a…*LOIS*! Also, jealous.
LOIS: What kind of ‘she’s a Lois’ doesn’t he get?
A hot, fiery pain swept through Michel's body...
Oops?
for about half a second. The lid immediately slammed closed again with a metallic thunk, and Susanne looked up at him apologetically.
Hey, look! She’s a smart cookie. Wonder just how long he’ll be out.
“I don't know, yet,” Michel admitted. “It's something I'm studying for a fr—” He paused. “For someone I know.”
“I see.” After a looking decidedly lost for a moment, Susanne bent and picked up the fallen papers. She placed the stack on his desk, tapped it straight, then turned and started towards the door with heavy steps.
She’s wondering about the chromosome distribution of said ‘friend’.
“Perhaps,” Susanne murmured. “In the end, her village was one of those the Nazis massacred in retaliation against the Resistance. My mother was just a little girl, at the time; she and her eldest sister, my Aunt Yvette, barely escaped with their lives. The rest of them didn't make it.”
One wonders what had happened to her grandfather by that time.
Trask leaned forward on the table, his eyes boring into Clark's. “*I* will ask the questions here, Mr. Kent. You were trespassing on a Bureau 39 base, so *you* will answer to *me*.
Can you trespass in a base set up by an illegitimate organization which doesn’t even own the land it set the base up on?
TRASK: What’s he meaning, ‘illegitimate’?
“There's another possibility,” Trask said, resuming his seat and looking Clark over. “Perhaps the alien has taken over your mind, infused you with its power.”
Not really, given how the female isn’t interested in him in that way.
Trask shot to his feet just as a second explosion sounded. “What's happening?” he barked, already half-way to the entrance of the tent.
Kryptonians raiding the camp. It’s Smallville. This was bound to happen sooner or later.
A figure in black, its face concealed by a ski-mask, yanked him to his feet and pushed him toward a hole that had suddenly appeared in the ground.
Loving the parallel to the Resistance!
From the darkness behind him, he heard Michel chuckle. “What, you've never heard of the French Underground?”
Yes, indeed. There’s a Frenchman underground.
“But to answer your question: Ammonium Nitrate. I borrowed some fertilizer from your parents to create a diversion.
He…he…homemade-bombed the camp?
“Clark?” Michel said, suddenly.
“Yes?” Clark replied.
“If you still have *any* regard for me at all, please don't ever breathe a word to my mother about any of this.”
This keeps being highly entertaining. Am wondering how (not really when, though) Susanne will finally decide to make the first move.
Michael
Gotta love Michel. That closing line of his is the best though.
. Not to mention, Trask (I would think) would be thrown off by this situation--he wouldn't expect 'Superman' to go underground, be wearing black, handle everything as he did.