The crowd at The Beanery convinced Lex that his best option was to grab a cappuccino to go. Upon finding him at the counter, however, Clark had other ideas. Grabbing Lex by the arm, yet still managing to be careful enough that Lex didn't spill a drop, Clark dragged him to a table. Gabe's daughter Chloe sat there already, a half-full mug at her elbow as she typed away on a laptop.
She looked up at them and smiled, baring her gums, her blonde hair swinging. She really was a cute girl, Lex thought. If Clark had to have a girl, she'd be a much better choice than Lana Lang.
If Clark had to have a girl. Hmm. Lex decided not to think about that very deeply at this time.
"What are you two doing tonight?"
"I'm trying to convince Clark that the five legged goat at the McKenna farm is a clear indication of meteor presence. But he's refusing to check it out with me."
"Chloe, I just don't think that..." Clark broke off and waved his arms, as if that would explain his position.
Lex did his best to save Clark. "Maybe it's just one of those things. Overbreeding can account for some genetic... mistakes." Lex grinned. "I went to boarding school with a slew of them."
Chloe grinned at him, despite her annoyance with Clark. "You went to boarding school with five legged goats?"
Lex pretended to consider it. "Well, Georgie Tuberman came damn close, but he only had the one horn."
Chloe frowned at him, but relented quickly. She sighed and began to close her laptop. "I suppose. It'd just be so much cooler if it was the meteors."
"Chloe..." Clark gave her a look, trying very hard not to look at Lex.
"Okay, okay." She looked at her watch. "Gah! I need to get home." Chloe started to pack her stuff into her bag. She looked up at them as she dug a set of car keys out of a pocket. "Clark, I'll see you in the morning," she ordered. Turning to Lex, she gave him the most blatant sizing-up he'd seen outside of a horse auction. "I should interview you for the paper."
Lex smiled at her, amused by her pushiness, but respectful of it, too. "We'll have to do that, Chloe."
"Great! I'll think up some questions for you."
Lex finished his swallow of cappuccino. "I look forward to it," he said as Chloe started toward the door. He looked over at Clark, who was giving him a look. "What?"
"Liar."
"No, she's just doing her job with enthusiasm." Lex finished his cappuccino. "Want a ride home?"
"Sure." Clark gave him an assessing look. "Which car?"
After dropping Clark off at the farm, Lex drove straight home. He was bored, and while the nightlife of Metropolis hadn't been good for him overall, there were still things he missed. Like getting laid. Parking the car and running up the steps, Lex dialed a number. "Calla, it's Lex. Want to come out to the sticks for the weekend?"
They called him at ten am on Saturday to tell him that someone had taken the students hostage.
He had been up for a few hours, working on some prospectuses, Calla having gone home in the limo late Friday night. The sex had been a relief, but not as fulfilling as Lex had wanted; not to mention Calla's company had... grated.
He was dressed to go to the plant, a casual look for Saturday, but when he got the call, he went upstairs and quickly put on a suit. Dressed for the role, he got into the Ferrari and drove as quickly as he could to the plant.
Driving in through the crowd of parents, reporters, and general Luthor-haters, Lex looked at the LuthorCorp sign. It wasn't until he was parking the car at the feet of a few sheriff's deputies that he realized what he had done.
His black suit and purple shirt. The livery of LuthorCorp.
Owned body and soul. Just another employee, but not really.
Looking in the rear view mirror, he saw Clark's parents and immediately went to the gate to get them. His calm lasted until his father got there and started lying to him. He knew he was being lied to, but he also knew that he hadn't seen any level three on any of the papers he had gotten about the plant. What had the old man been up to?
He looked at his father, refusing to do anything but let SWAT play lackey for him. Those kids were in danger. Clark was in danger. And it was his goddamned plant. So he did the only thing he could. He left his father the dragon king outside, and in his livery, went in.
Three hours later, having talked with the mayor, the police, and the EPA, the only one left was his father. The children and their parents were home; the plant was shut down until Tuesday just to be certain that everything was structurally secure. Lex's head ached like a demon, but he had to get rid of his father before he could go home.
"Well?" Lex asked, leaning against the metal railing, just outside the tent where the video surveillance equipment had been stored.
"Well, what?"
"Are you going to tell me what you did down there? What you did to Earl Jenkins?"
His father looked at him, the setting sun warring with the grey rain clouds behind him. "It's not something you need to know, Lex. Like I told you. It didn't work. Move on, Lex."
His father came toward him and stopped just a pace away. He reached into a pocket and took out a small glassine bag. "Here, go home, take these."
Lex looked at his father, then back at the bag. Painkillers. Very nice ones. God, how long was his mother sick that Lionel began to think of pills as comfort and affection? Lex could sell the bag on the streets of Metropolis and get enough for a whole weekend of partying. But he wasn't in Metropolis. And that was the Lex he was trying to distance himself from. Why he sent Calla home after one bout in his bed. "Where?"
"You know where. Go home, Lex. Come back to work and deal with the mess you've made and move on." With that, his father turned around and loped down the steps to the chopper that took him away.
Lex pocketed the bag of pills, pills he hadn't seen since his mother had taken them by the handful to stop the pain. Turning, he went back to his car, the fading sunlight glinting off the Ferrari crest, the stallion, on the hood.
Arriving home, he told the staff to take the rest of the night off. Mrs Palmer told him a fire had been laid in his room, and taking a bottle of brandy, he slowly climbed the stairs, refusing to give into the pain and use the elevator.
Lex closed the door and put the bottle on his desk. He pulled off the clothes, throwing the LuthorCorp colors into a corner. He'd have Mrs. Palmer take them for the Goodwill, or make rags from them. Stopping before he threw the coat, he pulled the bag out of the pocket. He threw the coat after the rest of the clothes, then opened the bag. He downed one of his mother's pills with the brandy and naked, sat on the floor in front of the fire, resting his back and head against the leather sofa.
Lex closed his eyes and tried to relax, but his mind kept floating. Fifty feet above the hard cement floor of Level Three.
****
Clark looked into Lex's bedroom, trying to find his friend. The house had been deserted, the Palmers in their cottage in the back. Clark had scanned the house, finally catching sight of Lex's skeleton upstairs in a room that had to be his bedroom. He stepped another foot inside, and saw Lex. He was sitting on the floor, his head resting on the sofa, his eyes closed.
Naked. Clark paused for a second, trying to deal with the rush of... something in the sight of all that smooth skin.
"Lex?"
Lex slowly opened his eyes, the blue-grey orbs looking a bit glassy. Clark looked again and saw bruises on Lex's back and neck. Knowing Lex had to be in pain, Clark took the bottle of brandy his friend was holding away and put it on the table. Then he slid his arms under Lex's knees and around his lower back, lifting with his own knees, the way he had been taught.
"Clark?"
"I think you need to go to bed, Lex."
Lex surprised him by laughing. "And here I thought you were too young for me."
Clark looked down into Lex's face, then up to the smooth skin of his bald head. And tried desperately not to notice the nudity again. He knew later, hopefully much, much later, he'd think about Lex and his skin - all his skin - and the needful feelings he was beginning to get when he was around Lex.
But not now.
Clark held Lex with one arm and pulled the comforter and sheets back. Slowly, gently, he laid Lex down. His hands lingered on the smooth skin, giving a reassuring, caring caress that Clark knew Lex understood when he closed his eyes and shivered.
Okay. Lots of thinking to be done. Later.
Pulling the covers back up, Clark found himself looking into Lex's weary eyes. "Stay?"
A simple decision. But something deep inside Clark told him that it would be a life changing one, disguised in the simplicity of a yes or no question.
He didn't answer. Instead, he toed off his boots and threw his jacket onto a chair, climbing in on the other side of the bed, staying atop the covers. Clark rested his head on a soft pillow, and it wasn't odd or unnatural feeling when Lex turned on his side to face him. Clark closed his eyes against the rush of sensation, opening them again as a hand softly stroked his cheek.
"Lex?"
Lex's face held a weariness that Clark could almost feel the pain of. "I can handle the livery." Clark didn't ask what he meant, just laid his own large hand over Lex's. "But I don't want to be the dragon."
There was frustration in the words, and Clark could feel the fear that the thought behind them had over Lex. "You won't be," he whispered softly as Lex closed his eyes.
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I do," Clark said to the sleeping man beside him. Closing his own eyes, he fell asleep.
Livery
1 archaic : the apportioning of provisions especially to servants : ALLOWANCE
2 a : the distinctive clothing or badge formerly worn by the retainers of a person of rank b : a servant's uniform c : distinctive dress : GARB d chiefly British : an identifying design (as on a vehicle) that designates ownership
3 archaic a : one's retainers or retinue b : the members of a British livery company
4 : the act of delivering legal possession of property
© m-w.com
© EAS, March, 2002
Disclaimer: All canon based Smallville characters belong to WB and/or DC Comics.
I am making no money, just enjoying playing in the sandbox.
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