Shadowflame

Let me just say this upfront: convincing Deedee, the literal personification of death, to dress appropriately for a farmer's market is not a task for the faint-hearted. No spells, no incantations—just pure survival instinct. And when Deedee's involved, winning isn't an option. You're lucky if you make it out with your dignity intact.

The whole thing started because someone (definitely not me) suggested we check out the market-slash-county-fair-slash-Halloween bonanza. Kara was fiddling with her charmed glasses—you know, the classic "no one will notice me if I wear these" Clark Kent special. Kori was holding a necklace I'd enchanted to make her look human, examining it like it was a piece of alien technology (which, technically, it was). Meanwhile, I was rocking my own charmed specs because, apparently, even wizards need to go incognito these days.

Then came Deedee.

She sauntered into the room, radiating chaos like it was a perfume she bathed in daily. Her smirk? Dangerous. Her tone? Smug. Her intentions? Pure evil. "Hey, Harry," she purred, dragging out my name like she was already winning. "What should I wear?"

Let me tell you, I knew that look. That was her brace yourself, I'm about to ruin your day look. Before I could even get a word out, she clapped her hands, and suddenly our living room was a full-on fashion runway. I'm talking strobe lights, club music, and an announcer booming, "Welcome to Deedee's Deathly Designs!"

First outfit? Cowgirl chic—or at least, that's what she'd probably call it. Reality? Picture thigh-high boots, denim shorts that barely qualified as clothing, and a cowboy hat the size of Texas. Oh, and she was twirling a lasso. Of course, she was twirling a lasso.

"Howdy, partner," she drawled, doing a little spin. "What do you think?"

"I think," I said, my voice shooting up an octave, "that you're about to scar the entire pumpkin patch for life."

Deedee grinned, all teeth and mischief. "Relax, it's Halloween. Isn't everyone supposed to be a little scandalous?"

"No," I said firmly. "Not at a family event. This is not the rodeo of bad decisions."

She pouted dramatically, like I'd just ruined her fun. "Fine, fine," she said, snapping her fingers. The next outfit? Sexy witch. And by witch, I mean… let's just say there was more fabric in the ribbon on a Halloween candy bag.

"Absolutely not," I said, shielding my eyes like she was a basilisk. "We are not getting arrested before we even make it to the parking lot!"

Deedee sighed, tossing her hair like a villain monologuing about how misunderstood she was. "Ugh, you're so uptight. Aren't you supposed to be the 'fun' one in this group?"

"I am fun!" I shot back. "But, you know, fun that doesn't involve indecent exposure charges!"

After a few more rapid-fire costume changes—including one that somehow involved flaming skulls (don't ask)—she finally, mercifully, settled on something passable: an all-black Goth Farm Girl look. Black overalls, combat boots, and a wide-brimmed hat that screamed Death, but make it aesthetic. Honestly, she looked like she'd just walked out of an indie band's album cover.

"Happy now?" she asked, twirling like she was on a red carpet.

"Thrilled," I deadpanned. "You only look slightly like you're here to announce the end of the world."

By the time we were all ready, Kara was in a flannel shirt and jeans, looking like she was moments away from filming a Hallmark movie about falling in love on a farm. Kori wore a floral sundress and was clutching a small pumpkin like it was the holy grail. They were both ready in, like, five minutes. Deedee? She'd taken longer than the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy.

"All set?" I asked, grabbing my jacket.

Deedee was already halfway out the door. "If this market isn't amazing, I'm haunting your sorry butt forever, Harry."

"Great," I muttered, following after her. "Because nothing says 'fun day out' like a one-star Yelp review from the actual Grim Reaper."

—

As we piled into the back of the Kent family's pickup truck—because apparently that's what you do in Smallville when you're about to attend the most bizarre farmer's market-slash-county-fair-slash-Halloween extravaganza—I couldn't help but feel like I was living in some weird, small-town sitcom. Except, instead of a laugh track, I had the relentless sound of Deedee's commentary ringing in my ears.

"Honestly, Harry," she muttered from beside me, her gaze fixed on the scenery as we passed miles of cornfields and the occasional cow. "How does one even live in a place like this? It's like, adorable, but also… depressing?"

"Hey," I said, shooting her a glare that was probably less effective than it should have been considering the way she was casually tossing sunflower seeds at the back of the truck's cab. "This is Smallville. They've got corn, pie, and, like, actual humans that don't live in skyscrapers. I'm pretty sure that's a cultural treasure."

"Sure, and they're probably all still working on their sci-fi romance novel drafts," she shot back, her smirk unshakable.

To be fair, I wasn't wrong about Smallville's charm. The pickup truck rumbled along, the dusty roads leading to a scene straight out of a country fair postcard—minus the fact that this fair had been decorated by Halloween's overenthusiastic cousin. The place was absolutely swarming with pumpkin patches, hay bales, and haunted house booths set up in places where you'd least expect them, like near the cotton candy machine or next to the petting zoo.

Clark, ever the picture of suburban charm, had his arm resting out the window, the wind tossing his dark hair just a little bit in that annoyingly perfect way. Beside him, Lois was already documenting the entire event with her camera, because, of course, Lois Lane would treat a simple trip to the farmer's market like a Pulitzer-worthy investigation.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when the Kent family pickup would be rolling into town with a ragtag group of my other favorite weirdos," Lois said, her eyes glinting as she snapped a picture of Kori holding up a pumpkin like she was some kind of goddess.

"Oh, stop. You'll make me blush," Deedee chimed in, winking at Lois as she tapped her fingers along the side of the truck like she was trying to start a song on a piano. She had spent the entire ride so far trading sarcastic remarks with me and Kori—mostly at my expense, of course—so I knew Lois had that sarcastic-but-sweet tone she reserved for moments when she was thinking of a snarky headline.

Jonathan Kent, driving the truck with a smile so warm it could melt a glacier, called out, "Alright, folks, we're here! I swear, every year this thing gets bigger. Hope you've got your stomachs ready for some of that famous pumpkin pie."

Martha Kent, always the picture of grace and kindness, nodded enthusiastically. "And don't forget the apple cider donuts! I think they've got a new batch this year."

"Did someone say donuts?" Deedee said, practically bouncing in her seat as her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. I wasn't sure if she was more excited about the donuts or about torturing me with more "who's going to buy the next round of snacks" bets.

I glanced at the bustling market, noticing the vendors dressed up in Halloween costumes ranging from the spooky to the silly. There was something oddly charming about this place, even with its quirky mix of country fairs and haunted houses. Smallville was practically the poster child for wholesome Americana, and now, with Deedee in tow? It was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

"Alright," I said, grabbing my jacket from the seat beside me and sliding out of the truck. "Let's see what kind of trouble we can get into. I'm betting we find a pumpkin patch that looks like it was born to be in a horror movie."

Deedee snorted. "You wish, Harry. But don't worry, I'll make sure it's an interesting trip."

And with that, we were off. The Kent family, a Kryptonian, a Tamaranean, a goddess of death, a couple of over-achieving reporters, and me—one guy trying his best to fit in with the locals—were about to make the most bizarre memories of our lives. The Halloween market, however, was just getting started.

—

You'd think that a Smallville farmer's market-slash-county fair, complete with a Halloween theme, would be safe from high school drama. But apparently, the corn dogs and caramel apples weren't enough to keep a couple of football players from trying their hand at low-effort sleaze.

We'd barely made it past the pie-eating contest when it happened. Kara was at a booth of flannel shirts so Midwest it hurt, Kori was marveling at the pumpkins (probably trying to decide which one would be the best listener for her life story), and Deedee? She was gliding through the stalls like a goth queen surveying her kingdom. People were either giving her a wide berth or staring too long, clearly not sure if they should compliment her or run.

Cue the douchebags in varsity jackets.

They swaggered over with the confidence of guys who had never been told "no" in their lives—or if they had, they didn't listen. Think hair gelled within an inch of its life, obnoxiously wide smirks, and that unmistakable I'm-about-to-make-this-uncomfortable-for-you vibe.

"Damn," the taller one drawled, zeroing in on Kara like she was a prize at the ring toss. "Who let the supermodel into town?"

Kara adjusted her glasses nervously, giving him a polite, "Uh, I'm just visiting."

Tall Guy's grin widened, and he leaned on the flannel booth like he was auditioning for a cologne ad. "Well, welcome to Smallville. I'm Jake, quarterback, and your new tour guide. What's your name, gorgeous?"

Before Kara could awkward her way through a response, the other one—let's call him Shorter Douche—nodded toward Kori, who was now cradling a pumpkin like it was her firstborn. "And what about you? You look like you walked out of some kinda fantasy movie. You got a name, or should I just call you 'mine'?"

Kori blinked, tilting her head in that way that meant oh, you're about to embarrass yourself and don't even know it. "I do not believe I am anyone's property," she said earnestly. "And I did not walk out of a movie. I walked from over there." She pointed toward the popcorn stand.

Shorter Douche gave a chuckle that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. "Cute and funny. I like that." He stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some kind of intimate secret. "You know, I could show you around. Maybe we ditch the fair and go somewhere a little… quieter?"

Kori's smile turned blindingly bright. "That sounds wonderful! Do you have access to a spaceship?"

Both of them froze, their smiles faltering. Jake turned back to Kara, clearly thinking she was the safer bet. "So, what do you say, babe? Let me take you out tonight. I'll show you a real Smallville party."

Deedee, who had been watching all of this with growing amusement, chose that moment to step in. Her smirk could've powered a small village. "Oh, Kara, don't be shy," she said, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "This fine specimen of masculinity clearly thinks he's irresistible. It'd be a shame to burst his little bubble so soon."

Jake, either not picking up on the sarcasm or too full of himself to care, turned to Deedee. "And what about you, spooky? You look like the type who needs a guy who can handle a little attitude." His smirk widened as he gave her a once-over that was about two seconds away from getting him hexed. "You ever been with a real man before?"

Deedee's smile turned razor-sharp. "Define 'real.' Because if you mean someone who talks a big game but probably screams at spiders and can't last two minutes in a fight, then no, I can't say I have."

Shorter Douche tried to recover, shifting back toward Kori. "Come on, babe. Don't tell me you're gonna let these guys cockblock us. We're the best this town's got to offer."

Kori frowned, holding her pumpkin protectively. "I am not sure what a 'cockblock' is, but if it is related to poultry, I think you might be mistaken. These are pumpkins, not chickens."

Jake let out a forced laugh, clearly floundering. "Alright, alright, I get it. You girls like to play hard to get. We can work with that."

Deedee stepped closer to Jake, her voice dropping to a silky purr that made the hair on my arms stand up. "Oh, sweetie, you don't have the range to handle me or my friends. Now, unless you want to embarrass yourself further, I suggest you and your buddy take a hike. Before I make this more fun for me—and much less fun for you."

Jake's smirk wavered, and Shorter Douche looked downright nervous. "Whatever," Jake muttered, backing away. "Catch you girls around."

As they slunk off, Deedee turned back to us, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Did you really have to go full femme fatale on them?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

She shrugged. "What? I was nice. I could've let Kori tell them about Tamaranian courting rituals. That would've been fun."

Kara adjusted her glasses, clearly relieved. "That was… not the welcome I expected."

Kori tilted her head again, still holding her pumpkin. "Do you think they will return with a spaceship later?"

"Doubtful," I said, rubbing my temples. "But let's try to steer clear of the hayrides, just in case they decide to make another pass."

Deedee smirked. "Oh, let them. I do love a good second round."

—

The two jocks regrouped with their teammates near the dunk tank, their swagger dampened but not entirely extinguished. Jake, the self-proclaimed leader of their little squad, muttered curses under his breath, glaring over at the three girls who'd thoroughly shot them down.

"Man, did you see how stuck-up they were?" Jake grumbled, running a hand through his over-gelled hair.

Shorter Douche, now revealed as Travis, nodded. "Yeah, like they think they're too good for us or something. I mean, come on, we're the freakin' football team!"

Another teammate, a mountain of muscle named Billy, leaned in. Billy wasn't known for his intellect, but what he lacked in brains he made up for in sheer enthusiasm for bad ideas. "Yo, who's that guy with them?" he asked, jerking his chin toward the trio of girls.

The group followed his gaze to where Kara, Kori, and Deedee were now clustered around a tall, broad-shouldered guy in glasses. The guy—Harry—was standing at a food stall, casually chatting with Ma Kent, a plate of homemade fudge balanced in his hand.

The girls, however, were a whole other story. Kara was practically clinging to his arm, her shy smile directed up at him like he hung the stars. Kori, who still held her pumpkin like a trophy, was laughing at something he'd said, her eyes sparkling. And Deedee—cool, untouchable Deedee—was leaning against him in a way that could only be described as possessive, her smirk daring anyone to interrupt.

Jake's jaw tightened. "No way," he muttered. "No freakin' way. That guy?" He jabbed a finger toward Harry. "With them?"

Travis scoffed. "He's gotta be their brother or something. No way those girls are with a nerd like that."

Billy squinted at Harry, his brain gears visibly struggling to turn. "But, like… he's jacked, though."

"He's wearing glasses," Jake snapped. "He's obviously some kind of geek. Probably their gay best friend or whatever."

Travis shrugged. "Then why's the hot one—uh, Kara—holding onto him like that?"

Jake frowned, watching as Harry effortlessly picked up Kori's pumpkin with one hand to free her up for a sample of apple cider. The way the girls giggled and swayed around him made his stomach churn.

"No way that's real," Jake growled. "That's just… That's not fair!"

"Yeah," Billy chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Girls like that don't go for guys like him. They're supposed to be with us!"

The rest of the team, still hovering nearby, murmured their agreement.

Travis smirked. "Maybe they just need to be reminded who the real men are around here."

Jake's eyes lit up at that. "Exactly. We can't let some dweeb from out of town make us look bad. Billy, you're up. Make an example out of him."

Billy blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," Jake said, his grin turning sharp. "Go over there, knock him down a peg. You know, give him a little shove, maybe spill his cider. Show the girls who the real alpha is."

Billy hesitated, glancing back at Harry. "But, uh, what if he fights back? I mean, he's kinda big—"

Jake clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. You've got all of us here to back you up. Besides, he's a nerd. Nerds don't fight."

The group chuckled, emboldened by Jake's confidence. Billy, still not entirely convinced, puffed himself up and started toward Harry.

From the stall, Harry had already noticed them approaching, though his easygoing demeanor didn't change. He took a casual sip of cider, his eyes flicking toward Kara, who had started to notice the approaching storm as well.

"Hey, uh, Harry?" Kara said quietly, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Relax," Harry murmured, his voice calm and steady. He didn't even glance at the approaching jocks. "This'll be over before you know it."

The girls exchanged a look, and Deedee's smirk returned, though now it had a razor's edge. "Oh, this is going to be good," she muttered, folding her arms as Billy loomed closer.

Billy stopped a few feet away, cracking his knuckles in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner. "Hey, big guy," he said, his voice loud and aggressive. "You lost or something? You don't look like you belong here."

Harry raised an eyebrow, finally turning to face him fully. "Funny," he said dryly, his British accent cutting through the air. "I was just thinking the same about you."

Billy blinked, thrown off by the calm response. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry tilted his head, a small, almost amused smile playing on his lips. "Well, considering you're about to make a very poor life choice, I'd say you're a little out of your depth."

Billy frowned, his confusion quickly replaced by anger. "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, glasses?"

Before Billy could make his move, Harry shifted his stance ever so slightly, his grip tightening on the cider cup. Kara, Kori, and Deedee stepped back, giving him just enough room.

"Alright," Harry said, his smile sharpening into something dangerous. "Let's find out."

—

Billy lunged at Harry with all the finesse of a drunken rhinoceros. It was a haymaker punch, wild and overextended, clearly aimed to knock Harry flat on his back.

Harry, to his credit, didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he sidestepped with casual precision, letting Billy stumble past him like an overeager toddler chasing after a ball.

"OHHHHH! And that's a miss, folks!" Deedee's voice rang out, loud enough to draw attention from nearby fairgoers. She was now leaning against the stall, one hand cupping her mouth like a makeshift microphone. "Our challenger, Big Bad Billy, has failed to land his opening strike! Kara, what do you make of this early performance?"

Kara blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, he… missed?"

"Fantastic insight!" Deedee grinned. "What about you, Kori? Any thoughts on this thrilling first round?"

Kori tilted her head thoughtfully. "He seems very unbalanced. Perhaps he has not had enough potassium today."

Deedee nodded sagely. "Excellent point! Ladies and gentlemen, remember to eat your bananas before starting any altercation!"

Meanwhile, Billy turned around, his face a mix of anger and confusion. "Stand still, nerd!" he snarled, charging again.

Harry adjusted his glasses with one hand, stepping forward this time. As Billy's meaty fist came flying toward him, Harry caught the wrist mid-air and twisted it just enough to make Billy yelp. He didn't stop there—pivoting on his heel, Harry shifted his weight and used Billy's own momentum to flip him onto the hay-strewn ground.

"OH! And he's down!" Deedee howled, clapping her hands. "Harry 'The Haymaker' Potter has just demonstrated a textbook judo throw! Clark, as a former farm boy yourself, what's your take on this incredible display of athleticism?"

Clark, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, looked amused but tried to keep a straight face. "Well, he's clearly got good form. I'd say someone taught him well."

"A true expert's opinion, folks!" Deedee spun dramatically to face Lois, who had just walked up, looking both entertained and mildly concerned. "Lois Lane, ace reporter, what do you think? Is Harry the underdog hero Smallville deserves?"

Lois raised an eyebrow. "I think if this keeps up, Billy's going to regret waking up this morning."

Billy, now red-faced and furious, scrambled to his feet. "You think you're tough?!" he roared, charging again.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Mate, just walk away. You're embarrassing yourself."

But Billy didn't listen, launching himself forward in a clumsy attempt at a tackle. Harry shifted his stance once more, dropping low to sweep Billy's legs out from under him. The larger boy hit the ground with a heavy thud, groaning in pain.

"DOWN AGAIN!" Deedee yelled, cupping her hands like a megaphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is starting to look like a landslide victory! Kara, do you think Billy has any chance of recovering?"

Kara, wide-eyed and holding onto her pumpkin, stammered, "I, uh… probably not?"

Deedee nodded. "You heard it here, folks. Kara's vote of no confidence has sealed Billy's fate!"

Kori chimed in, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. "Do you think Harry will let him keep his dignity?"

Deedee smirked. "I wouldn't bet on it, Kori."

By now, a small crowd had gathered, watching the spectacle unfold. Billy's teammates, sensing that their ringleader was out of his depth, began to shift nervously.

"Alright," Harry said, brushing off his sleeves. "I'm giving you one last chance. Walk away, apologize to the ladies, and maybe you'll leave here with your pride intact."

Billy hesitated, his teammates murmuring behind him. But Jake, ever the instigator, shouted, "Don't back down! You've got this!"

Billy growled, pushing himself to his feet once more. "I'm not done yet!"

Deedee threw her hands up. "Oh, come on! This guy's got more determination than common sense!"

Clark finally stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "That's enough. You've made your point."

Harry raised a hand to stop Clark. "I've got this." Turning back to Billy, he smiled faintly. "Alright, one more round. Let's make it interesting."

Billy charged, and Harry moved like water, flowing around every clumsy strike. A well-timed sweep of his arm knocked Billy's balance again, and this time Harry planted a hand on Billy's chest and pushed him down into a nearby pile of hay.

Billy sputtered, spitting out straw, and stayed down.

"AND THAT'S THE MATCH!" Deedee shouted, throwing her arms wide. "Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Potter remains undefeated! Don't forget to grab some kettle corn on your way out!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter, some clapping while others whispered about the "nerd" who'd taken down the town bully.

Harry adjusted his glasses again, stepping back to join the girls. "Shall we move on?" he asked, completely unbothered.

Deedee grinned, looping an arm around his shoulder. "You're my new favorite person, Potter."

Kara and Kori nodded in agreement, and the group walked off, leaving Billy and his bruised ego behind.

—

As we walked away from the battlefield—sorry, I mean the farmer's market stall where Smallville's finest had just been schooled—I couldn't help but smirk. Those jocks had been knocked down a few pegs, and I didn't even have to throw a single magical punch. Just good old-fashioned hand-to-hand, courtesy of Wonder Woman's grueling training sessions. (Thanks, Diana. My ribs may still hate you, but my dignity's intact.)

Lois fell into step beside Clark, her signature smirk firmly in place. I could already tell she was gearing up for one of her classic zingers. The woman had the kind of wit that could cut through steel—or, you know, Superman's ego.

"So, Smallville," she started, loud enough for me and the girls to overhear. "Tell me, were the jocks at your alma mater this douchey, or is this year's crop just a special breed of idiot?"

I snorted at that, glancing over at Clark. To his credit, he didn't look fazed. The guy was basically unflappable. Probably a side effect of being invincible.

Clark chuckled, shaking his head. "I'd like to say it's just them, but no. We had our fair share of hotheads back in the day. They just usually stuck to picking fights with each other."

"Oh, how noble," Lois deadpanned. "Fighting over what? Parking spots for their tractors?"

Clark raised an eyebrow. "More like bragging rights. Tractor pulls were usually behind the gym."

That one got a laugh out of me. "Wait, so you're saying this is Smallville tradition? Like a rite of passage? 'Welcome to the fair, try not to get suplexed by a quarterback'?"

Kara, walking beside me, adjusted her glasses with a little smile. "To be fair, Billy and his friends are worse than most. I don't remember anyone quite that obnoxious last time I was here."

"Perhaps," Kori said thoughtfully, "it is a cultural misunderstanding. They seemed… unsure how to properly interact with us."

"Sure," I said, unable to resist. "Because catcalling and threats of bodily harm are such nuanced communication techniques."

Deedee cackled at that, tossing her hair like a villainess in a soap opera. "Oh, sweet summer child. That wasn't a misunderstanding—that was peak male mediocrity. Honestly, they probably think they're heroes for not trying to bench press you, Harry."

Before I could come up with a snappy comeback, Deedee turned to Lois, her grin pure mischief. "So, Lois, spill the tea—was Clark one of them back in the day? Letterman jacket, cheerleaders hanging off his arm, the whole deal?"

I perked up at that. "Oh, this I've got to hear."

Clark shot us both a mildly exasperated look. "I wasn't exactly a jock, Deedee."

"Sure you weren't," Lois said, her smirk practically glowing. "What about that time you tried out for the football team? How'd that go again?"

Clark looked a little sheepish, which was a rare sight. The guy usually had the quiet confidence of someone who could, you know, lift a truck without breaking a sweat. "Didn't really pan out. Coach thought I was… a little too strong for the field."

"Too strong, huh?" I said, grinning. "Let me guess—you threw the ball so hard it landed in another county?"

Clark gave a reluctant shrug. "Something like that."

That got another laugh from the group. Even Kara was giggling softly.

"Well," Lois said, shooting Clark a playful look, "at least you didn't turn out like those guys. Although, now I'm curious—did they pick on you for being the tall, quiet farm kid, or were you too busy brooding in the corner to notice?"

Clark gave her a mock-offended look. "I didn't brood."

"Not buying it," Lois shot back. "You still brood, Smallville. It's practically your superpower."

Kara smirked. "He's got a point, Clark. Brooding is kind of your thing."

Deedee clapped her hands, eyes sparkling. "Oh, this is gold. Someone grab the popcorn. Clark Kent, the brooding, mysterious underdog of Smallville High? Forget the football drama—I'd binge-watch that teen soap any day."

Clark sighed, looking both amused and exasperated. "Alright, enough about my high school days. I think we've got better things to focus on. Like not drawing more attention to ourselves."

I adjusted my glasses with a grin. "Yeah, let's do that. Don't need another round of insecure locals trying to impress the ladies by picking a fight with the nerdy guy."

"Though," Deedee added with a wicked grin, "if they do, I'm calling dibs on commentary duty. Kara, Kori, you in?"

Kori tilted her head. "I would not mind. It was quite entertaining."

Kara smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear. "As long as you don't make me say something embarrassing."

Lois laughed, linking arms with Clark. "Careful, Smallville. If this keeps up, Harry's going to end up with his own fan club here. You'd better step up your game."

Clark just shook his head with a chuckle, and we kept walking, leaving behind the shattered egos of Smallville's finest.

—

The fair had been a full-on circus—literally. There were kids screaming, people shoving through crowds to get to the funnel cakes, and the air was thick with the scent of cotton candy and fried everything. But I was loving it. After years of dodging life-threatening situations (thanks, Voldemort), and basically being raised by people who thought their idea of a "good time" was sending me into life-or-death missions, this felt like a vacation.

The girls were loving it, too. Kori was like a human pinball, bouncing from one ride to the next without a care in the world, while Kara kept asking if it was okay to eat the cotton candy, like it was some kind of cosmic crime to enjoy the sweet stuff. I don't think she'd ever had it before. I mean, Kryptonian or not, she needed to experience the wonders of human sugar.

And then there was Deedee. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she'd been born to hand out candy. Seriously, this girl was like a Halloween mascot. She'd been grinning like the Cheshire Cat while giving out chocolate to little kids in costumes who were pretty much adorable in their little Batman and Superman outfits. Not that I was paying attention to Deedee's grin... nope, definitely not.

The whole vibe was pretty chill, and I was actually starting to relax. But then came the fun part: trick-or-treating at the Kent farm. Pa and Ma Kent had set up a mini candy factory, and I was pretty sure they could feed a small army. The kids were loving it. The girls were loving it. Even I was loving it, and I'd fought alongside Wonder Woman and Shazam, so my standards for "fun" were admittedly high.

Once the trick-or-treating ended, and the last mini-Black Canary had waddled off into the night, things settled down. We all retired to our respective rooms, and that's when the real fun began.

Pa Kent led me up to the loft in the barn. He was all, "This used to be Clark's space before he decided he wanted a Fortress of Solitude. Just needed a bit more room for secret Kryptonian stuff."

I wasn't gonna lie—I liked the loft. It had a vibe. There were hay bales still stacked up in the corner, and the air smelled a little dusty, but in the good way, like history and freedom, and probably Clark's sweaty teen years.

I was just about to hit the hay (and by "hit the hay," I mean actually fall asleep, not make hay puns like a tired dad), when I heard it. A soft pop of air shifting. Before I could even blink, I looked up and—bam—there was Deedee.

Now, look. I've been through some pretty wild situations in my time. I've faced down dark wizards, survived battles with space bounty hunters, and got adopted by a literal demigoddess. But what happened next? Completely caught me off guard.

Deedee was standing there, in black lace panties and a matching top that—let's just say—didn't leave much to the imagination. The second she appeared, I froze. Not in a good way. More like the oh no, this is bad, but I'm too shocked to move kind of way.

She grinned at me. I swear she knew exactly what she was doing. "Hi, Harry," she said, all casual like she hadn't just teleported into my loft wearing practically nothing. "I'm here to collect."

Okay, I was gonna need some context here. "Collect what?" I managed to choke out, still trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if this was some weird, totally unrequested surprise party.

"I promised you," she said, stepping closer like she owned the place. "That after a good date, I'd put out. And, well, I'm not one to leave promises hanging, but you're going to have to settle for a kiss for now."

I blinked. "You're serious?"

"Harry, I'm always serious when I want something." She tilted her head like she was trying to hypnotize me with her smile.

I opened my mouth to say something—probably something profound, like "Uh, I'm still processing this" or "Is this part of the date?" But, no. Deedee didn't give me a chance to respond. Before I could even register what was happening, she kissed me.

And it was one of those kisses where your brain takes a vacation and your heart tries to skip a few beats. Soft at first, but then it got a little firmer, and holy crap—it was like the world paused for a second. I didn't even know how to process it. I'm pretty sure my body forgot how to breathe for a moment.

When she pulled back, her grin was absolutely wicked. "There. Now you can sleep." She winked, like I was supposed to take that as a cue to just be cool with everything that had just happened. "Good night, Potter."

And with that, she was gone. Poof. One minute she's there, in practically nothing, looking like she just turned my world upside down, and the next, she's gone. The faintest pop of air, and she was just... not there.

I sat there for a minute, still trying to wrap my head around what just happened. I mean, I'd kissed girls before (and Kara and Kori even had less clothes on than Deedee), but this was a whole new level of "What did I just get myself into?"

Let me put it this way: after that, my brain was absolutely no use to me. So, I did the only logical thing—I went to bed. Because, honestly, what else was I supposed to do? Think about how the whole thing was either a prank or me getting in way over my head?

Yeah, I'd think about that... later.

For now, sleep was a welcome distraction.

---

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