Lana Lang

"Love makes hunters of us all."

There are nights when she is restless, when the routine of the day leaves her parched. There is nothing in the warm tones of her opulent dwelling to fill in the cracks; not the art, not her husband, not even her infant daughter who knows nothing of her but milk and need and the comforting familiarity. It's all so empty, so arid to her, and she can't put her finger on why.

And so, she drives. She drives until she finds herself in Metropolis. Her feet take her where they always do, to a club, and she stays until she finds a man. He's the same every time: dark hair, well-built, and tall enough that he has to stoop down to kiss her. Their kisses lead them elsewhere, whether to hotel, her car, or even just the closest place secluded enough to lose themselves in each other.

As soon as it's over, she drives home again.

She's not satisfied, but it's enough.

Lana quickly learned that an open fire isn't such a holiday treat when your child is apparently a pyromaniac.

[POST @ MUSEBYSENTENCE]

It was around this time of year Lana missed Clark the most, but when she watched JC play with Chloe and Martha in the snow, she almost felt like he was still with them.

[POST @ MUSEBYSENTENCE]

[ooc: For likely_evil, a Sam/Lana future fic with the prompt Snowball. The muses will hate me for this.]

Lana takes her place behind the tractor, scooping up the nearest patch of snow and quickly packing it into the most perfect ball she can manage. This week marks the anniversary of the day they'd met, the first one without an apocalypse hanging over their heads, and they celebrate with an entirely different kind of battle, one she's set on winning.

She loads up on ammo before carefully peaking around the side of the machine, looking for her man. He's doing the same over near the car, so she hides again, waiting, listening for the crunch of his boots against the snow.

When she thinks he's close enough, she stands and strikes the first blow.

Unfortunately, her aim is off.

Lana gasps and covers her mouth, staring in horror as she stares at Sam, hunched over and holding his groin.

"I am so sorry! Are you okay?"