A Holly Jolly Christmas

Wine-ter Wonderland

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Smallville?" Lois Lane huffed for what seemed to Clark to be the millionth time that very morning, alone.

"Lois," he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, ignoring the fact that she'd been scrubbing frantically at a dinner plate in the sink with a scrubbing brush so forcefully in fact that the brush had started to crack and the bristles fall into the water. Ignoring the soap suds currently dripping onto his socks as he held his fiancé at arm's length, he smiled. "I think that dish is clean enough."

"Have you been listening to a word I've been saying, Clark?!" Lois snapped, forcefully turning herself back to the sink to carry on attacking the sparkling dinnerware with the brush again, clearly using it as a source to vent her frustration on.

"Unfortunately, it's been impossible not to," Clark muttered with a sigh of his own as he ventured over to the fridge, opened it and peered inside, wishing - and not for the first time - that he could feel the effects of the incredibly inviting beers that were neatly arranged within. Along with half a supermarket's worth of groceries.

"What was that?!" Lois shot him the dirtiest look he had ever seen from the reporter and he held his hands up quickly in a gesture of self defence.

"I said 'Yes Dear'."

Lois scowled at him for a few moments longer, then wagged the soapy, half destroyed brush in his direction. "Hands off the food!"

"Absolutely not touching the food," Clark replied, showing her his empty hands, front and back. As soon as she turned back to the sink, he flashed out an arm, using his super speed to snag a handful of cooked chicken bits and a couple of cocktail sausages.

"Clark Joseph Kent, I saw that!" Lois called over her shoulder as he went off into the living room to find some festive music to play.

As Jingle Bell Rock started to play through the surround sound system, Clark wandered back into the kitchen, having also demolished any trace of food evidence before daring to show himself in Lois' presence again.

"Lois," he sighed, seeing that she'd finished brutalizing the dinner plate and had now moved on to a set of mixing bowls. "Honey, could you please relax? It's just Kara. You know Kara. You love Kara."

"Kara's not the problem," Lois growled. "Though I do worry that we may not have enough food. I should go out and get some more."

"There's enough food," Clark reassured her gently, placing his strong hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him once more. She tried to resist, but was no match for his strength, so quickly gave in.

"Hey," he offered her a bright smile, and he could see that she was desperately fighting a smile of her own.

"Hi," she grumbled at last, looking away though her resolve was fading rapidly.

"Lo, talk to me," he spoke to her gently now, releasing his grip on her shoulders but not letting go completely. "What's wrong? What's got you so worked up?"

Lois took a deep breath, then sighed. "It's the company Kara chooses to keep these days. It's bad enough that we have to hear about her all the time, but at least in National City she was keeping her distance. Now you've gone and invited the enemy to our home. And not just our Metropolis apartment either. You've invited her to the Kent Farm!"

Clark knew Lois was quite possessive over the old farmstead, but he'd never truly understood why. And as if reading his mind, Lois decided to elaborate.

"You have your Fortress of Solitude, Smallville. I have mine."

"Which happens to be this place?" He let go of her shoulder with one hand and gestured to the farmhouse they were stood in.