The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

OOC: http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=695486​

"Claire, it's time for dinner." Martha yelled out as she stood on the porch of their house. The sun was slowly starting to dip below the line of trees that surrounded their farm. Inside her husband Jonathan had just finished setting the table, pouring cold milk into the glasses before taking a quick swig from the jug itself. It was a dirty habit, and Martha had often scolded her husband for his coarse behavior.

"I'm almost done." a girl of 18 years responded, her voice carrying over her families property as she worked out in the middle of a field. Claire picked up another wooden fence post and slammed it into the ground. A smile crossed her face as she realized she was practically done before she had even started. Looking to her left she glanced at the two dozen or so other wooden beams that she had fixed into the Earths surface, putting into position a brand new pen for some newly arrived livestock. What would have taken a small army of workers to do in an entire day had only taken her a few minutes.

"How's it look?" Jonathan asked once his daughter came into the house.

"They're all in. I even had time to put some of the wiring up." Claire added as she sat down at the table, running a hand through her golden hair before picking up her glass of milk.

"Well make sure you get to bed early tonight," Martha said once all the food had been served. "I don't want you up in that loft all night when you have school tomorrow."

"I'll be fine, mom," Claire said before digging in.

Despite her promise to get some rest, Claire found herself lounging around in the barn loft after dinner, using her telescope to peer up into the heavens. For years she had wondered if there was life on other planets, and when she was fifteen her parents had finally provided her with the answer to that question. Their response was... not what she had expected.

They had told her that she herself wasn't from Earth, and that they had found her in a ship after the first meteor shower hit Smallville nearly 17 years ago.

She hadn't believed them... she refused to believe them until they actually showed her her ship.

Which they did.

Her ship... locked away in the storm cellar, covered only by a dusky old tarp and surrounded by old farm equipment.

It had freaked her out at first, but the fact that she was an 'alien' answered a boat load of questions, particularly where she got her powers from. There had been other people in Smallville with extraordinary gifts, but none seemed to possess the kind of variety Claire had. After a while Claire came to accept her past, but she was always thankful that the Kent's had been the ones to find her.

~ ~ ~
Monday morning

"You better get going or you'll miss the bus again."

"I don't need to catch the bus," Claire responded quickly as she rushed downstairs and into the kitchen. Martha quickly pressed the palm of her hand down against a stack of papers she had resting on the table to keep them from flying all over the kitchen and then tossed a stern look towards her daughter.

Claire, however, had her head buried in the refrigerator.

"Hurry up," Martha repeated as Claire finished stuffing her backpack.

"Okay, okay. Bye."

Claire grabbed her belongings and headed out the door just in time to see the school bus pull into her road. The young Kryptonian jogged up to her pickup spot, and she stepped up into the bus once the driver opened the doors. The bus was filled with mostly freshman and sophomores as most of the juniors and seniors at Smallville High could afford their own cars. Claire, however, could not, so she took the bus each and every morning (when she was on time, anyways).

Cassie and Barbara were home alone for the evening; Dr. Sandsmark, Cassie's mom, was in Metropolis preparing for the start of the semester tomorrow and would likely end up sleeping in her office. Barbara's mother was also working a late shift at the Luthor Corps power plant, so it was just the two girls alone.

Their shared room was very large, seeing as it was a modified basement suite but a room shared between two young women who weren't on the best of terms can seem very small indeed. The two girls had settled down to very different meals in their own corners of the room. Barbara was eating sushi while skyping with some of her friends back in Gotham discussing the latest rumors about her hometown's favourite urban-myth “The Bat”; Cassie on the other hand was eating a very greasy meatlovers Pizza and blasting rock music, across the room.

Barbara had asked Cassie to turn down the music several times already, but the blonde just smirked at the other other woman, each time. Eventually she suggested Cassie borrow one of her books if she was bored, Cassie being an archeologist's daughter was well read and quite intelligent though she wasn't the bibliophile that Barbara was. Barbara sighed and wondered why they couldn't get along, they actually had a lot in common if you got past Cassie's restlessness and rebellious streak (Babs was rebellious too but she expressed it differently).

Cassie hoisted herself out of bed to cross the room and look over Barbara's massive book collection, Barbara's side of the room was wall to wall bookshelves and only two or three of them held DVDs, CDs and other such items the rest were all novels, reference books, encyclopedias and the like, the woman also carried her kindle with her everywhere! Eventually Cassie stopped and with a snide tone said, “Thanks Babs, I think I'll read this one.”

Barbara craned her neck to see what the other girl was reaching for, “Oh no... Not with Pizza fingers you don't!” Cassie was reaching towards the shelf that had first editions of all 14 of L Frank Baum's Oz novels which were the pride and joy of her book collection. She did a jump flip off the back of her chair to reach another stack of books and grabbed a paperback copy of the same book Cassie was reaching for and tossed it too her, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” and tossed it at Cassie. “There you and your pizza fingers can read that copy.”

Cassie stood shocked for a moment at the feat of agility Barbara had just displayed, but she was still more then a little pleased with herself for getting under Babs' skin once again. “How did you do that Barbara?”

“I told you I've studied martial arts, I've got black belts in two styles of Kung Fu.”

“You want to teach me some of that?” The ever adventure seeking Cassie asked.

“You want to drive me to Metropolis, so I can get some lessons in? There's only a basic defense class in Smallville.” Barbara retorted.

“Well maybe,” Cassie said with a yawn and slumped down with her book.

About 10 minutes later, Cassie started to chuckle and she read aloud:

"Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from," said the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried her to this queer Land of Oz.

The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, "I cannot understand why you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place you call Kansas."

“When was the Wizard of Oz first published Babs?” Cassie asked still laughing.

“1900, why?”

“Oh well, good to know that Kansas has been the most boring state of the union for over 110 years and it's not just a new condition.”

“Give it time, we're both new here... sometimes you don't have to find adventure Cass, sometimes it finds you.”

“Oh enough fortune-cookie philosophy from you! I'm going to bed.”

“Good idea, you need to be up in time to drive us to school tomorrow.”

The next morning the two girls climbed into Cassie's red sports car, the daughter of a world renowned archaeologist can afford such niceties a Police Captain's daughter can not... and headed off to the school.

"So Claire, trying out for the squad?"

Claire turned her head to the side as Pete Ross moved to sit down next to her, and she scooted over towards the window to give him a little bit more room. She was surprised to see him riding the bus as he usually caught a ride with Chloe ever since she got her wheels, but here he was, grinning like an idiot.

"Yes, because what I really want is for fifty year old men in the bleachers to try and catch a glimpse up my skirt as I cheer on the Crows," she responded with a roll of her eyes.

"Aww come on, I could really use your support out there."

"I'll be at the games, Pete, I'll just be cheering you on from the stands," Claire said with a smile as she tucked some of her golden hair behind her ear. "What's your schedule look like?"

Pete pulled out a rather crumpled-up piece of paper from his backpack and handed it over to Claire who tried flattening it out in order to make it legible.

"Not a single A.P. class. I'm disappointed."

"Yes, well, 'Little Miss Perfect', once I get a full-ride on a football scholarship and you're stuck in some cubicle... then we'll see who's the bigger disappointment."

"You think I'm going to be stuck working in a cubicle like Milton Waddams? Big squirly glasses and mumbling a lot? Eww. I'll pass."

"Hey, you'd look good with glances," Pete noted, looking at her as if trying to picture her with four eyes instead of two. "Besides, I believe you have my stapler." Pete chimed, and both he and Claire burst out laughing just as the bus began to pull into the school parking lot. The bus came to a halt a few moments later, and students began pouring out onto the front lawn in an attempt to socialize before the first warning bell. Eventually Claire and Pete parted company as their lockers were at different ends of the hallway, but from what she had gathered on his schedule they'd be in a handful of classes together, so it wasn't like they wouldn't get to see each other at all.

Cassie pulled up into the student parking lot got out of her car, she sighed surveying the student population. “Well there are some cute guys Babs but I bet they're all as dumb as bricks rednecks. The ones who don't get out on football scholarships will probably just end up tending to cows or working in the local coffee shop for the rest of their lives.”

Barbara sighed herself, “I don't know how you can be so dismissive and pessimistic about everything Cassie, you keep looking for adventure but discount the possibility of finding it anywhere in reach, get to know people before you judge them. And for heavens sake, don't run your mouth off... we're liable to be in for some froshing as it is, you don't want to piss off the locals.”

Cassie gave Barbara a look that the other girl had learned meant, shut up ms. Know-it-all, before replying. “I'm a hot blonde in a red tank top, no one's gonna frosh me... unless asking for my cell number counts as an initiation ritual these days.” She reached into her backpack to grab her class schedule. “I'd rather not have to drive you home Babs, I'm sure I can find something to pass my time after class. Will you be okay on your own?”


“Oh yes, I think I'll check out the school library and see if there are any clubs that interest me,” Barbara replied looking over her own class schedule. "It's not far to our place, you don't have to worry about me.”

“Great, just what I wanted to hear, later Babsy,” Cassie mock waived to her roomate as she headed off to the school. Along the way Cassie stopped to flirt with a couple of boys, and talk to introduce herself to a raven haired woman who seemed to be the captain of the cheer leading squad.

Barbara made her way in as well, a little unsure of finding her locker; it was one thing to find her way around when she came in to register and take her tour now that the halls were teeming with students she found herself a little disoriented, but she eventually found her locker. She made sure she only carried the necessities to class. First up was AP English, she had all the assigned books download to her kindle, so she grabbed that and her laptop, and stowed the rest of her gear.

But now where was her class again? She turned to the girl who was using the locker next to hers a blonde with shoulder length hair like Cassie but with a down to earth small town charm about her, Barbara decided almost instantly that she liked this girl. She self-consciously adjusted her shirt and cleared her throat before addressing this stranger. “Excuse me, but I'm new to this school, and I'm not quite sure where my AP English class is, could you help me find it?” She asked, handing her schedule over.

Hal pulled into Smallville High’s parking lot with a growing sense of frustration. Instead of arriving on the back of his dad’s vintage Harley like he had planned, he was driving the old Ford pick-up. Hal sighed as he looked out over all the other pick-up trucks in the high school parking lot. At least he blended in...

Hal snagged his backpack as he slammed the door closed and made his way towards the school’s front doors. He remarked that the school seemed a little big for a town so small that they actually named it Small-ville. Still, despite the name there were plenty of kids here. Hal figured they must import students here from all the outlying homesteads. Most of his fellow students looked like farm kids. Others looked like they belonged to parents who worked at the huge LuthorCorp facility outside of town. A few looked like farm kids desperately trying to look like anything but farm kids. Hal just managed to keep his comments to himself as he trudged down the hallways in search of his locker. He also made a few mental notes on classroom locations so he wouldn’t get lost trying to find them later. No use being that guy.

Hal went over his schedule again, for this umpteenth this morning, to get it stuck fast in his head. Another ‘New Guy’ stereotype he wanted to avoid; wandering the halls with his schedule in hand looking like some little lost puppy. Anyway, he had loaded up on math and science to pad his transcripts. If he was going to make it in the Air Force, he’d need to finish up school with solid performances College Algebra and AP Chem.

Hal hated Chemistry.

He hated it with a passion that came close to religious. Sure he could do the work, but it was just so pointless. But there was also a good solid AP English to round things out.

As the locker numbers neared his own, Hal spotted two girls standing nearby. A blond and a redhead looking over a class schedule. Uh huh. ‘New Guy,’ or technically New ‘Gal’ in this instance. Hal kept his smile to himself as he opened his own locker. At least he wasn’t the only fresh meat in this place. And, considering his new neighbors, things were starting to look up.

Claire only had to glance once at the paper that had her locker number written on it, and moving swiftly through the halls she arrived moments later. She turned the padlock around a few times until her combination opened the lock, and she proceeded to empty the majority of her backpack's contents before slamming it shut. The entire hallway was filled with noise, as would be expected from any high school.

Today was the first day of school, however, so the noise was exceptionally boisterous.

“Excuse me, but I'm new to this school, and I'm not quite sure where my AP English class is, could you help me find it?”

Claire turned and looked at the 'new girl' and took the schedule as it was handed to her, but since she already knew who was teaching the class she didn't really need to look.

"Yeah definitely," she responded with a friendly smile, handing the schedule back. "I'm headed that way too."

Her eyes glanced briefly past the new girls shoulders to some of the students still dawdling around at their lockers, including a very, very handsome student that was standing close by. Claire couldn't remember seeing him around, but the school was at least big enough to allow for that sort of thing. She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder before she began heading off in the direction of their class. She walked fast enough to take the lead, but slow enough for Barbara to keep up without feeling rushed.

"My name's Claire, by the way. Welcome to Smallville High. When did you move in, if you don't mind my asking?"

After turning a few corners and headed up a flight of stairs they finally reached their A.P. class. Standing just outside the door, greeting his students, was Mr. Carlson. He never told any of the students just how old he really was, but most assumed he was in his sixties. He was old fashioned, the kind of person that loves the smell of musty old books and absolutely hates computers.

"Kent," Mr. Carlson said as Claire walked up to the door, peering out at her through a pair of old spectacles.

"I can't wait to get started," Claire said, taking a shot for humor but drawing a quizzical and rather stern look from her teacher.

"Lying does not suit you, Ms. Kent. And you must be Barbara," he added, addressing Ms. Gordon before extending his hand. As much as he disliked the younger generations, he was still proper enough to at least extend a warm welcome to anyone that joined his lectures.