The Better Part of Wisdom

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

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Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.

Notes: For the Ray Bradbury Title Challenge. My first fic, so don't be too harsh. Warning: this fic contains a brief encounter btw Lex & Victoria, in flashback. It's very short, but--be warned.

Dedication: Thanks to Anna Bong, whose dream description provided the initial bunny for this story. Many thanks also to Jacyn, a skilled and exacting beta who lets me get away with nothing. Also to Carolin, who has such a wonderful grasp of the Clark & Lex relationship and dynamic. Both of you have been a great help and a blessing.

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I

Lex Luthor swore softly under his breath as he searched through his father's files at Luthorcorp in Metropolis. He needed an important document on a company transaction, but being in Lionel's onsite office, especially going through drawers, made him feel like a naughty, sneaky kid who was about to be caught, and punished, any minute. He just wanted to find the damn papers and get back to his own space.

His search was interrupted by the telephone, and he picked up the receiver without thinking. "Lex Luthor," he barked into the mouthpiece. The only response from the other end was a vacant pause, and Lex fumed impatiently, itching to hang up. It was his father's line, after all. "Is anyone there?" he snapped.

"Lex?" It was a woman's voice, and whoever it was sounded muffled and strange.

"Who is this?" he demanded suspiciously. "Victoria?" Surprised, he realized he'd blurted out her name before he'd even consciously identified her voice.

He had fantasized about really telling her off, were they ever to converse again, but he found himself hesitating. Her call had caught him off guard. And her voice sounded strange, almost as though she had been crying. That was impossible: Victoria never cried.

"Where is your father, Lex? I need to talk to him."

At her words, Lex couldn't help but flash back to the photographs. His voice was brusque as he responded.

"I have no idea," he said slowly, trying to summon a rush of power. "He doesn't check in with me." Telling her how to contact Lionel would be no trouble, but why make it easy for her? He owed her nothing.

"What more could you have to say to him, anyway? Haven't you already said, and done, it all?" He needed her to know that he knew everything. "By the way," he inquired blandly. "How's your dad? Feeling better now, I hope."

He waited for a spitfire response, but Victoria only sounded tired, and oddly vulnerable. "Lex, please..." and the next bitter comment died on his lips. She'd never sounded this way before. Almost human, he thought, with mild surprise. Lex exhaled, raising his eyebrows, and hesitated only a moment.

"Call this number," he said shortly, and took a deep breath as he hung up. He felt a wave of both uneasiness and irritation at his momentary softness. He wasn't going to get anywhere being this way. He didn't know what she wanted with Lionel, and he didn't care.

It didn't matter.

II

After the call, Lex found himself thinking of Victoria again, when he would rather have foregone that.

He'd tried to put her out of his mind after seeing those miserable photos of Nixon's. She was gone, and good riddance. Not only had she tried to deceive him, but she had given him yet another reason to loathe his father.

He hadn't planned on having her back in his life when their paths had crossed unexpectedly at the Metropolis museum gala. Their first affair had been a teenage thing: school in England, sweaty gropings, fumblings. Lots of time and leisure to practice those heady, developing skills. Long, drowsy afternoons griping together about their cold, power-hungry fathers, and swearing to get the better of them someday.

Victoria was a couple of years older than Lex, and if she'd thought first with her brain instead of her body, she'd have seen way before he did that they were ill-suited to each other in every way.

Every way except physically, that was. The sex had been great.

Lex had seen the incompatibility, though. She was trouble: opportunistic, amoral, often heartless. A real user, of both things and people. Though they had much in common, he was smarter, and when all was said and done, she bored him. And, while he was sometimes amused by her decadent, hedonistic behavior, it also turned him off just as often. That had kept young Lex from any but the basest regret after school was over and they had parted ways-after all, he'd learned a lot about sex from Victoria. They hadn't kept in contact over the years, though Lex had seen her name, or her father's, in the news or trade magazines now and then, their business a rising serious competitor for Luthorcorp in the specialty chemicals field. There wasn't much left to say, after all.

But then, she had just shown up at the gala that winter night. Victoria in Kansas, of all places, and it hadn't taken him long to figure that she had to be looking for him. He thought back to being there with Clark, with whom he'd been infatuated for several months. Back then, Clark was still zoning out everyone but Lana, and Lex remembered being bored and frustrated that evening, growing weary of trying to stifle his interest in the young man by fanning the flames of his Lana lust. How tedious, and on their first real "date," no less. He'd been nettled, edgy, sex-starved. Less capable of resisting the smoldering gleam in Victoria's eye than he might otherwise have been. She'd caught him at a weak moment. So, Clark had gone home alone that night, and Lex had gone back to Smallville with Victoria.

And grown tired of everything except the sex within two days.

He'd known from the beginning why she was there, that she had her sights set on Cadmus Labs. A bid in vain to win her father's regard. He could have told her right then that she was wasting her time. Sir Harry Hardwick would never esteem his daughter, any more than Lionel would admire Lex. But Lex had expected more bleak humor from watching her scrabble around trying to accumulate classified information behind his back. How boringly sloppy she'd gotten, how obvious. Just how stupid did she think he was? Instead of the grand intrigue he'd been hoping for, he got tedium. Irksome, like a kid's game: tiddlywinks when he wanted chess. But, because he'd been bored (and horny, he had to admit) he'd allowed it to continue.

Her whole plan had been executed so lamely that Lex had barely enjoyed his victory. Except, maybe, for the finale, when he'd turned the tables on both father and daughter and watched their reactions as their grand scheme collapsed. Their expressions of horror had been priceless, worth the smack in the face from Victoria the afternoon it all fell apart. Poor Victoria, she'd been aching her entire life for a little affection from her father, just as Lex had, and this had been her grand bid for it. She'd blown it, big time, too. Lex could have felt sorry for her, if she hadn't shown herself to be such an incompetent sneak and amateur.

It would have been easier to forget her altogether if it hadn't been for the photos.

Lionel's participation in the whole mess was what really stung, and Lex was astonished to realize that his father's actions could still hurt him.

He could almost understand his dad fucking Victoria. She was beautiful, always made herself available, and no doubt seemed very attractive to a man in the throes of a midlife crisis, a man like Lionel. Though Lionel could easily have bought anyone he wanted, male or female. Maybe it was the opportunity to get back at the Hardwick empire, the feeling of power and intrigue, or just the lure of available sex. Any or all of these things could have explained the liaison.

But, Lex was usually pretty good at reading his father, and, though he wasn't completely sure, he felt quite certain that the main reason Lionel had wound up in bed with Victoria was because she'd belonged to Lex. It was his way of saying, I can take anything I want from you. Anything. And this was all after grinding it into him how stupid he was for getting involved with Victoria again. Thanks a lot, Dad.

Lex had thought it unlikely that he and Victoria would cross paths again. She'd hot-footed it out of Metropolis directly after the Cadmus Labs fiasco and was surely back on the other side of the Atlantic by now. Screwing someone else, no doubt, both literally and figuratively. She'd been in big trouble with her father, that was for sure. And no way would she want reminders of such a spectacular failure.

Surely she'd learned she was no match for Lex Luthor. She was out of his life for good. And his dad's little one-night stand could, in time, be forgotten, too.

Okay, that would be hard. But, he could do it. Eventually.

He guessed he just needed more to do, and reminded himself that it wouldn't be long before Clark's school let out for the summer.

III

Since the afternoon Lex had sputtered gasping back to life on the riverbank after careening through the guardrail, his water-burned eyes had focused on Clark's anxious face with the certain knowledge that their destinies were entwined. Clark had saved him from death and desolation, and given him another chance at life. He knew Clark would make a major difference, and help him achieve greatness, his grand design. Clark would be there. He felt sure of it.

The kid was so young, though, much younger than Lex had been at that age, and had had a homespun upbringing, and Lex didn't want to spoil things by rushing them. It was worth the wait, and it wasn't as if they both weren't enjoying the courtship. At least three times a week, Clark's cheerful delivery service provided way more organic produce than Lex could ever eat. That they both saw how ridiculous this was, was part of the unspoken game between them.

Clark's education had to be taken slowly, Lex thought, and then almost chuckled. Clark's education. As if the young man didn't have a thing or two to teach him, as well. Cool it down, Lex, he thought. Smallville might not be ready for this. Clark still is not ready for this.

He had only to think back to one evening last winter to remind himself that he had to take it slowly with Clark.

IV

"Lex. Hey. Slow down." Clark leaned back and bit the end of his pencil. "You're hard to keep up with."

The two friends lay sprawled on the floor in front of Lex's bed, a bowl of popcorn between them. It was a week after the Palmers had left for Metropolis, and a bitterly cold Friday evening. Since Lex was lucky enough to have a bedroom fireplace, he'd had a fire built, and they were working together on Clark's current English assignment, which was to describe the qualities of friendship, as illustrated by examples from literature, history, and mythology. The atmosphere was cozy, relaxed and comfortable, and Lex was rattling off examples faster than Clark could write them down.

"Damon and Pythias," Lex ticked them off on his fingers, "Trust, dependability. Damon took his friend's place in prison before his execution, knowing he could trust him to come back in time. If not, he would have been killed in his place. But Pythias didn't let him down. David, Jonathan. Jonathan defied his father for David's sake," Lex paused, and a shadow passed briefly across his face. "He accepted that David was meant to be king, even though he himself was the rightful heir. Lewis and Clark? They were comrades in discovery, but Clark couldn't save his friend from his own demons later, no matter how much he wanted to."

"How about Laurel and Hardy?" Clark chuckled through a mouthful of popcorn. "Or, Lex and Clark?"

"Yeah, put them in, too. No," Lex playfully punched Clark's arm, shook off his somber mood, and grinned.

"Maybe I should ask my dad, too. I guess he and Lana's father used to hang out together, in high school, and after."

"You could ask Lana for details on that, too." Lex said blandly. "I'm sure she'd love sharing them. Over and over." Clark's glance in response was both exasperated and amused, and Lex smiled lightly at him before turning serious once again.

"Think about it, though, Clark. If you want this essay to be a real success, put yourself in it, too. Consider some of the friends you've had. What qualities have they had that you've valued?"

Clark frowned, and thought for a moment. "Let's see," he began, then hesitated.

"What about Pete?" Lex prompted.

"Pete?" Clark sounded almost surprised at Lex's suggestion. "Pete's a great guy, yeah, a good friend. We've been pals since we were kids. He's never let me down, ever. But, we don't really talk that much. He's not much for advice or guidance. More just to hang out with, go camping." Clark stopped again, and dropped his eyes.

Lex chuckled in response. Clark pondered the question a moment more, and then continued. "Maybe I haven't had that many real friends. Not the kind that would work for this assignment. Except maybe you, Lex. You give me good advice, but, then, you're older. I'm lucky, I guess. Most guys I know don't have older friends."

"Not in our society. But, in Ancient Greece, it was common for young men to have older friends, 'mentors'. To give advice, and other things."

"Did you ever have a 'mentor,' Lex?" Clark asked, as he continued to write.

"Let's bypass that, for now," Lex said tersely, his smile fading.

"Well, how about other good friends. What positive qualities should they have?"

Lex gave a pensive sigh, and turned on his side to look at Clark. "Based on what I've read, or on people I've known?"

"People," Clark said.

"Then, I don't have much to say. I can talk for hours about literary and historical friendships, but, my own?" he spread his hands. "I'm speechless."

"But, Lex," said Clark. "You've been all over the world, you know tons of people, you're in business-"

"That's the last place you'll find friends, Clark," Lex said cynically. "I've always had people hanging around me, people who thought they could get something. But, real friends? No."

Clark frowned as he pondered this. "Well, I still want your opinion."

"I do know one thing, Clark. Friendship is never easy. What I see as the most important aspects are things that are a challenge to achieve."

"Hmmm," said Clark. "A challenge." He added that to his notes. "Well, what are they?"

"Dependability. Trust, like Damon and Pythias had. And being honest with one another. Completely."

"Oh," Clark sounded serious, and shifted uncomfortably. He wrote a few more lines in his notebook. After a moment, he looked up again, his voice quiet and earnest as he spoke.

"Know what, Lex? You have a lot of good qualities. You're sure of yourself, generous. Brave, too. Remember when you came into the plant, the afternoon Earl Jenkins was there?"

Lex looked away. "I'd just as soon forget that, Clark," he said shortly. "That was a bad situation, and over and done with, now."

"Well, okay," Clark conceded. "But, I still say, it took a lot of courage." Clark paused, and hesitated, seeming to consider whether he should continue. "Know something, Lex? I'm glad we met."

"Yeah," Lex snorted. "It was a lot of fun that afternoon, wasn't it?"

Clark chuckled ruefully. "Guess it was a dramatic way to get acquainted. We are friends, though, right? Even though I'm in high school, even though I live on a farm."

"Clark," Lex said patiently. "None of those things matter." Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then, after a minute, Lex said, "I shouldn't be here, you know, Clark."

Clark gave him a puzzled, almost somber glance, wondering if he were taking up too much of his friend's time. Lex regarded him for a moment, and said, more firmly, "I mean, I should have died."

Clark exhaled, and said, a little impatiently, "Don't start that again, Lex."

"There's no reasonable way I could have survived that accident. I still don't know what really happened. You haven't told me."

Clark tensed, and seemed to consider letting this go by, but, then, his temper flared. "You just won't leave it alone," he said hotly. "Why? I've told you everything I know, but you keep pushing me. I hate that, Lex."

Lex remained calm. "Easy, Clark," he said, steady and unruffled, his voice soothing and mellow. "No need to get upset." One hand reached out to touch Clark's cheek, but Clark shrugged it off. "We're friends. Just tell me." Lex's voice had grown almost hypnotic. "Friends make a habit of being honest with each other, trusting each other."

"I'm going home," Clark blurted out. He grabbed his bookbag and got to his feet. "I'll finish the essay later. This is going nowhere." Lex stirred, and stood up also. He put a hand firmly on Clark's arm. Clark felt flushed, strange, confused, but stopped, immobilized by the intensity of Lex's focused gaze.

"Friends are honest with each other," Lex repeated quietly, pushing on Clark's arm so that he sat down on the bed, regarding his friend as though mesmerized. Lex dropped onto the bed beside Clark, holding his gaze. He put both hands on Clark's sweatered arms, keeping him steady. "But, for now, I don't care if you lie to me. It doesn't matter." Lex leaned over then, and touched his mouth to Clark's.

Clark tensed at first; his eyes flew open, and then closed, slowly. His mouth opened to Lex's kiss, and their teeth collided for a moment, then it was only the wet softness of lips and tongues. Before Clark knew it, he was flat on his back, and Lex was pressing him into the cushions, leaving him breathless. He nuzzled a kiss beside Clark's ear, and murmured something Clark couldn't decipher. Then, moving back to the younger man's lips, he kissed hard, his tongue slipping between Clark's teeth to his tongue. His hands traveled over and down Clark's arms to the buckle of his belt, pressing, caressing, unfastening.

Clark's arousal was instant, but a stab of panic shot through him. They had to stop. "Lex, Lex!" Clark mumbled weakly. He broke sloppily free from the kiss, and pushed Lex off. Struggling to sit up, Clark swiped a hand over his mouth, flushed, trembling, and breathing hard. "Wait," he choked, gasping.

Lex was trying to collect himself as he sat up on his elbows. "Clark," he said, "Are you okay?" He wiped a palm across bruised lips and trying to still his ragged breathing and racing heart. He attempted to regard Clark with some semblance of calm. "It's all right, Clark," he said. "We're stopping. We won't do anything you don't want to do." He bit both lips as he felt his face flush nearly as red as Clark's with disappointment, and gave a half-hearted smile.

Clark, by now sitting on the edge of the bed as his breathing slowed, cast a half-shamed glance at his friend, who still lay half-sprawled beside him. The younger man looked confused as he struggled for words. "Lex," he began, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

Lex turned on his side and regarded his friend steadily. "Clark, it's okay," he repeated evenly. "Things just got a little crazy. Don't worry about it." He started to get up. "Maybe we should call it a night. You can come over in a few days, or next Friday."

Lex was unprepared for the strength of Clark's reaction. "No!" Clark protested, his voice tinged with fear, confusion and anger. "Don't send me away."

Lex smiled easily as he swung both legs over the side of the bed and stood up, brushing off his clothes. "Okay, then. Why don't we shoot some pool. Or, you can pick a DVD. When do you have to turn that essay in, anyway?"

Clark didn't respond, but bowed his head, putting a hand on Lex's arm. "Lex, don't, please. Listen to me. I want this." He bit his lips, hesitated, and then continued. "I want you." He looked up suddenly, and Lex caught his breath at the flushed beauty of his anguished, agitated face. He reached out a hand to touch Clark, but let it drop. Clark gave him a rueful smile, and continued. "I'm just not sure I'm ready for it, yet."

Lex was still struggling to hide his disappointment. The intensity of his desire for Clark astounded him, but, at the same time, he was unwilling to apply pressure. It hadn't been that long, after all, since the boy had believed with all his heart that having Lana would be all he'd need to be happy for life. And, while it was easy to forget, sometimes, Clark was only sixteen. Lex could understand that he'd need more time to adjust to the idea of their becoming lovers. And, though Lex hated the thought of waiting, he would. Because he was sure Clark would be worth it.

He leaned over to pull a DVD from the nearby rack. Settling back with the popcorn bowl, he held it out to Clark with raised eyebrows and a smile. "Come on, Clark," he said easily. "Popcorn."

Clark flushed again, but looked relieved as he settled back on the sofa, and plunged his hand into the bowl.

Lex crunched on, but didn't taste, a handful of popcorn.

He could wait, he told himself again.

But, damn, it wouldn't be easy.

V

Clark thrust a hand through his damp locks, and felt a momentary, but agonizing, stab of pain. What's the matter with me, he wondered, kicking himself mentally. The setup had been perfect, everything he'd wanted for so long. So, why had he resisted?

It just hadn't felt right.

Lex hadn't known what Clark had witnessed that night a couple of weeks before, when the young man's confusion had drastically increased.

He'd been out for a late-night speed-walk in the snow, fooling with his developing x-ray vision and finding himself, only half-unexpectedly, on the Luthor manor grounds. He wasn't sure why he was drawn there so often, why he just had a need to see Lex, be near him, in the middle of a busy week. Lurking around the grounds for a bit every few nights had become an important, if secret, part of his routine. The snow crunched under his boots as he approached the house, and he grinned as the x-ray kicked in. If Lex wasn't busy, maybe...

Clark scanned the first floor of the manor, then started on the second. Room by room.

Lex, Lex, where are you...? He chuckled. He was bad, he shouldn't be doing this, he was a goof.

Ah...Lex. Stretched out lazily on the leather couch in the den, with Victoria sprawled over him, her burnished hair cascading over them both as she scrabbled at the buttons of his shirt. Clark's eyes widened, and he caught his breath. He dropped his gaze, and, after a momentary struggle, lifted his head again, unable to resist.

Lex's arms were snaking around her, her mouth was now on his, and they were trading kisses with careless expertise and abandon. Clark's keen hearing could detect pants, murmurs, and moans.

He hadn't been able to turn away again, or to turn off the x-ray, until it was over. He almost forgot to breathe. He watched it all, not letting his vision go normal until Lex and Victoria both lay drowsy and sated on the floor. Victoria was trailing soft kisses down his half-bare chest, and Lex, head thrown back and eyes closed, was lazily stroking her hair, bending now and then to kiss the top of her head.

Shaking himself from his trance, Clark swiped a clammy hand across his tearing, burning eyes. He'd missed his curfew, and soaked his boxers and the front of his jeans; his clothes already felt as though they were beginning to freeze. Good thing he had a spare set in the loft, he thought. He planned to bury these. Or burn them.

He stumbled home at a much slower pace, his cheeks burning both with shame and with a guilty excitement that lingered in spite of his embarrassment.

Knowing Victoria was there, he shouldn't have been surprised. But knowing they were sleeping together was different from actually seeing it.

Lex had looked so tender. Could Clark have misread all the signals? Was he totally stupid?

He figured he must be. Lex couldn't like him, after all. He must have been crazy to think that he and Lex could have a relationship that involved more than being just pals, to imagine that Lex was being more than friendly every time they met. So what if Lex made him tremble every time he dropped the pitch of his voice to that brisk, quiet intensity and looked on him with that cool, assessing gaze. It was all in his mind and the unbidden responses of his body.

Lex liked women. Obviously. He wouldn't want a guy. Especially a young, naive, countrified guy like him. He didn't want to let go. But he had to.

He felt as though he had had the wind knocked out of him, hurt, bruised and vulnerable. He vowed to knock off the nighttime visits from now on, and go back to thinking about Lana, if he knew what was good for him.

But, Lex... The thought surprised him with a yearning stab of pain. He looked back toward the manor, amazed that his eyes were again filling with tears which he angrily dashed away.

And he wished desperately that he'd never seen or heard of Victoria.

He hated her.

VI

"Planning your next conquest, Dad?" Lex asked from his desk as his father absently twirled the office globe on its stand. "Which country's the target, now?"

Lionel smiled, but didn't reply, and Lex stretched before he stood up. "So, back to normal," he began again.

His father glanced at him and Lex smiled. Lionel continued to spin the globe. "And what do you consider normal, Lex?"

Lex gave his father another cryptic grin. "She's gone," he said. "Just as you wanted."

Lionel nodded without looking at him again. "Good work."

A few moments passed before Lex spoke again. "Oh, and Dad? Thanks for keeping her entertained while she was in Metropolis. You saved me a lot of trouble. And energy."

Lionel laughed.

"Dad," Lex said in a low voice. "It isn't funny."

"Lex, you don't understand. But, one day, you will." He glanced sideways at his son before taking a quick breath and continuing as though he were speaking to himself. "The sole most important thing is family. All that matters."

Lex nodded, and continued in the same cynical tone "I understand, Dad. How could I not? You're constantly demonstrating this concept. Always finding new ways to reinforce it." Until I'm sick of it, he thought.

As Lionel was leaving the room, he stopped at Lex's chair, "It's just you and me, now, Son," he said, and Lex shot a withering look at his father's back as he exited the room.

VII

Spring came on, and the Kansas wheatfields blossomed. Lex felt almost contented in exile. He was getting used to small town life, and growing closer to Clark, whose circle of friends was rapidly becoming his own. Even though he was several years older than most of them, he enjoyed his niche as the worldly wise and wealthy older guy. Memories of his past life were taking on an increasingly dreamlike quality, and for the first time since his mother's death, he was beginning to feel at peace. Perhaps Smallville wasn't so bad, after all.

The springtime breeze filled his study one early evening a few weeks later, as he checked stocks online during a break from work on a deadline that was consuming most of his waking time. A blue link on the home page of a main search engine caught his eye. He stared blankly at it for a moment, as though it were utter nonsense, or a Chinese puzzle.

Luthorcorp CEO Weds Daughter of Recycling Magnate.

What?

It wasn't quite registering, so he jabbed at the mouse button.

*Agribusiness giant Lionel Luthor and Ms. Victoria Hardwick, daughter of Hardwick Enterprises Founder Sir Harry Hardwick, were married yesterday in London. It was the second marriage for Mr. Luthor, the first for Ms. Hardwick.

The two chemical companies were recently in the news when--*

Lex exited the site, clicked the computer off without logging off, and stood up slowly, loosening his tie. He stretched, and ambled over to the window.

Lionel and Victoria?

Lionel and Victoria.

Married.

Christ.

VIII

The dusk had faded almost to darkness as Lex sat sprawled in the window seat. Pale and frowning, he nursed a glass of scotch, staring outside, seeing nothing.

He couldn't believe what he had just read.

Well, why not, he thought savagely. His dad had screwed him over all his life, so why should he stop now? Fucking bastard. And who better to go along for the ride than Victoria, who owed Lex anyway, the bitch.

Oh, well, fuck it. What was one more slam. There was no reason he should care.

He hurled the tumbler at the fieldstone fireplace. Glittering shards and sparkling drops of amber liquid flew out in a riot as Lex bit his trembling lip, nearly choking on his rage in the fading light.

IX

A formal announcement, addressed to Lex, arrived at Luthor Manor a week later. Opening the envelope casually, he scanned the contents.

"Fuck you," he muttered, feeding the notecard through the shredder. His mood had been dark since the discovery, and he had deliberately refrained from contacting Lionel in any way.

He knew that wasn't the end of it, though. The next communication from his father was an invitation to a reception in Metropolis. Lex had to take this one; he had not yet learned how to shred a phone call.

"Dad, I'm touched," Lex responded. "But, I can't make it. I think I'm coming down with the flu." He was relieved at how calm his voice sounded.

Lionel was brisk and perfunctory. "Don't even try that, Lex. I expect you to be there. It's business, not just pleasure." Lex flinched imperceptibly at the smirk in Lionel's tone.

Lex was silent for a moment. Business: the one factor to which all Luthors deferred. Usually, he was able to handle unpleasant work-related obligations with few qualms, but, damn it, he really wanted to pass this one by. Handling bad news with a carefully-placed smile and poker face was the Luthor way, but this particular situation was becoming a real challenge. He just wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend nothing had happened.

"Business? That's why you want me there? I'm all choked up."

"Cocktails at 7:30, Lex."

"Well, thank goodness I'm 21, now," he responded, wondering bleakly if that were really all his father was going to say to him.

"Just be there," Lionel said.

"Depends on how I'm feeling," Lex concluded, faking a bad cough before disconnecting. Still, his heart sank: he knew he'd have to go.

X

I can do this, Lex thought, as he rode up the elevator to Lionel's sleek Metropolis penthouse, where the reception was being held. He had donned his most expensive and understated outfit. Lex Luthor, heir to the throne. He could look casual, seem completely unconcerned. Just another business event, business arrangement. After all, he was never out of control.

He tried to ignore his cold hands and queasy stomach. They didn't fit with the image, even though he couldn't remember ever feeling so inconsequential or ill-at-ease.

He'd entertained a fleeting, devilish notion of showing up horribly late at the party-with Clark. It would have kept him from having to face the ordeal alone, and might have raised a few eyebrows. But, he'd decided against it. He didn't want Clark anywhere near his father, for one thing, or, hell, it would only be a matter of time before Lionel were sleeping with him, too. Second, he didn't need anything undermining his resolve to appear totally collected. Clark had reacted with shocked sympathy when Lex had finally decided to tell him about the wedding in his customary offhand manner. Of course, Clark hadn't been fooled. He'd enfolded Lex in a big bear hug and comforted him through protests of, "I'm fine with it," until Lex had finally broken down and admitted that it had hurt. Clark had a way of breaking through all Lex's defenses, and, tonight he'd need them all.

His father greeted him as if everything were normal. Lex's stomach twisted at the sight of Victoria with her slim arm twined around Lionel's.

"Feeling better tonight, Lex?" said his father, putting his hand over Victoria's.

Maybe he couldn't do this, after all.

Lex wet his lips with a brush of his tongue, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn't deny that Victoria was beautiful tonight, in a gown of crushed violet velvet and white lace. She smiled at his greeting like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, but he sensed a new darkness in her gaze, something deep and almost dangerous. He couldn't bring himself to say "Congratulations," to either of them.

He wore an inscrutable, hooded expression as he nodded to Lionel, and greeted his new stepmother with a cool, "Victoria?" Okay, better.

He was almost surprised himself by his next words "Which way to that bar?" Well, why not? he thought defensively. He should have outgrown the coatroom, by now.

Kicking back a few glasses of scotch in the bar and the passage of time helped him feel a bit better. A few guests had tried to initiate conversation, but he had kept his responses minimal. Even though he kept telling himself this wedding was of little consequence to him, he didn't much feel like mingling with dozens of business contacts and making small talk. Glancing at his watch, he wondered idly how long it would be before he could decently call it a night. He had shown up, after all. Sighing, he got to his feet, concluding that he'd better get back out there if he wanted to keep his father happy.

Back in the main party area, he admitted ruefully to himself that, yes, he was having a problem with this. He leaned against the door to the balcony, nursing the last drink he had brought from the bar, and watching the proceedings while trying to keep the same cool expression frozen on his face. Guest after guest shook Victoria's hand, some even embraced her. Lionel was talking, laughing, looking younger, almost, and altogether the jubilant bridegroom. Occasionally, he leaned over to whisper in Victoria's ear, and Lex jolted in surprise as he found himself musing that they made a rather attractive pair. That's it, he thought in astonishment. I should have stopped several drinks ago. How many did I have?

Okay, I'm jealous, he had to admit. Envious of both of them. They had each other, now, and what did he have?

Lionel would occasionally scan the room and lock gazes with his son, his expression cryptic. Lex hoped he looked bland and unperturbed as he sipped his scotch and raised his eyebrows. He was trying to summon his best black-humor mood to still the confusing, angry thoughts assailing him. He desperately wanted to stay disinterested. If he let himself get emotional, he might as well hang it up. He hoped it would look to his father as though he had some deep plan in the works. He always did. Except this time.

A smoldering, bored anger grew in the pit of his stomach. If one more guest asked him how he liked his new stepmother, he was going to punch someone. He crunched on an ice cube as he continued to stare at Victoria. Somehow, it was easier to hate her than it was to detest Lionel, and that was saying a lot. He watched her socialize with guests the Luthors had known for years, people who'd been friends of his mother's, knowing it was all an act.

God, how the hell had this happened?

He shouldn't have had so much to drink, he realized. Alcohol had a way of lowering defenses and baring emotions. Even in him.

He had to admit that he had no idea why this had transpired, unless they were both out to get him. He could give up hoping that his father would tell him anything. That left Victoria. And he had always been able to overcome her defenses.

God, she really was lovely tonight. Creamy skin, cascading, burnished hair, almost glowing, like an English rose. If you didn't know what a tramp she was, you could be deceived.

Finishing the last of his drink, Lex waited until his father drifted off in another direction with a handful of male guests, and Victoria was left alone. Scanning the room first, he ambled casually over. Her eyes narrowed as he approached, but she raised her chin without faltering.

"Victoria," he began, "or, do I have to call you 'Mom,' now?"

She smiled. "Yes, no doubt I should insist on that," she said softly, her tone mellow.

"Come outside," he urged, putting a hand on her wrist. "The view from the balcony is incredible after dark."

She hesitated, glancing around the room. "I don't think-" she began, but Lex put a finger to his lips.

"Shhh." he whispered, "Family bonding. Come on." She looked apprehensive, but didn't object further as he drew her outside.

"You know, Vic," he began, when the balcony door had closed behind them. "You may be fooling everyone else in there, but I can't help sensing that you're just as uncomfortable with all this as I am."

"Oh?" she replied coolly, looking over the balcony rail to the street far below, not meeting his eyes. "And, why do you say that?"

He stepped to the rail beside her and continued quietly, but his voice had an edge. "Marrying Lionel? Was getting back at me worth that? Not to mention taking yourself out of circulation. Since when is my dad your type?"

She smiled mysteriously, but said nothing, and Lex swallowed hard before continuing.

"So you like guys with hair, huh? Or is any guy, basically, your type?" He paused for an answer, but Victoria remained silent. "How long has this been going on, anyway?"

She finally responded, betraying a flash of spirit. "My, my. A bit too much to drink already, Lex?" He gave her a bored grin, and she continued. "So we celebrated victory too early, did we?" Victoria's low voice rippled with amusement. "You were proud of yourself, weren't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, with a sigh. "I was. And, I still am. But, I must admit, I wasn't expecting this. It took me by surprise."

"Indeed." Victoria smiled as though she knew this was quite an accomplishment. Very little took Lex by surprise.

"So, why?"

"Lex, you're boring me. I had my reasons."

She was making him feel like an ornery kid, but he kept pushing. "Let's see," he said, his voice growing silky as he drew in close and fingered one of her russet curls. "What could they be? You're already swimming in cash, so it's not the money. Or is it?"

She seemed about to say something, but hesitated, and remained silent. As strained as his nerves were, something in him seemed to snap at this.

"Did Sir Harry finally get sick of your little games and kick you out for good? Or are you, basically, a slut?" he spat in a whisper.

"Come on, Lex," she sighed wearily. "Let the past die?"

"That" hissed Lex, "would have been a hell of a lot easier if this hadn't happened."

"I'd hoped perhaps we could go on as friends, now," she said, almost wistfully.

He snorted. "That's hardly likely."

"Circumstances have changed."

"They have?" He tried to sound skeptical, sardonic.

"I'd better be getting back," said Victoria, turning back toward the balcony door. Lex put out a hand to stop her.

"Do you know what you're getting into, Victoria?"

"I think so," she said coolly.

"If you think," he said, lowering his voice, "that you're any kind of match for my father, in any way, you've made a huge mistake. I'd say you'd be sorry, but I don't know if you're smart enough for that."

The Victoria he'd known before would have enjoyed engaging in verbal banter at this point, would have savored flouting his remarks. This new Victoria, however, only seemed tired. Lex felt a breath of distaste with himself for berating her, and tried to subdue the unworthy impulse, clenching his hands into fists.

"He'll crush you like a bird's egg, Vic," he finished. "He'll destroy you. Just watch it happen."

She sighed again, and began again to turn away. "This isn't an appropriate conversation for the occasion, Lex. I'd better get back. If you want to vent, pay someone to listen."

He stopped her, grabbing her arm. Victoria loosened her wrist from his hand, gently but firmly. He looked almost ashamed for a brief moment before he spoke again, more quietly. "Level with me, Victoria. Just tell me why. Just let me know if it was for revenge. That way, I'll know what I'm up against."

"That would give you an unfair advantage," she protested.

He fumed. She was right, of course. And he realized, startled, that he'd been practically begging.

I need an advantage, he thought tensely. He knew he wasn't making any sense, and thought briefly that maybe Lionel was right about his being ruled by his emotions, after all. He hoped he sounded both incredulous and disgusted as he said, "You're not in love with him, are you?"

Victoria shot him a frosty glare, but then lowered her voice, and brushed Lex's arm lightly with a manicured finger. "Why don't you give it up, Lex?" she murmured softly, "Go back to Smallville and that farm boy you were so besotted with. I'm not your concern any longer."

For a moment, his defenses gave way, and he sensed that his raw emotions must have been apparent for a brief moment as their eyes met. Victoria smiled the barest of smiles before turning away to reach for the door handle, but then seemed to hesitate. When she turned to face him once again, it was as though a veil had dropped. The smug, playful attitude had disappeared, and she regarded him somberly.

"Do you want to know the real reason, Lex?" she said quietly. "Because I wanted my child to have a father."

The stone floor seemed to shift as Lex felt a sinking in his gut. Okay, I'm going to be sick now, he thought with mild astonishment.

He heard his voice as if from a great distance. "Does my father know?"

Victoria gave him a last brief smile that was both enigmatic and wistful. "He does, now," she murmured, and Lex noticed for the first time that the twilight had turned to darkness while they were outside. Victoria's mask fell back into place, and she slipped through the balcony door to the lighted interior, leaving him alone.

It was several minutes before he even realized she was gone.

XI

Lex wasn't sure why, or how, he'd wound up in Clark's loft, the evening he got back to Smallville. The weather had been bad, with dripping, drizzling rain and slick pavements, matching his mood perfectly. All he'd planned was to go home, get dead drunk, and pass out. He deserved it. And, God knew, Clark would be the last person to have any alcohol.

But, there he was. The cows lowed soggily in the nearby paddock as Lex sat on Clark's sofa with hands clasped between his knees. The wan light was fading, and Lex knew his friend would be out there eventually, just to spy on Lana with his telescope, if nothing else. Lex couldn't help feeling a small stab of jealousy at the thought.

He closed his eyes. His head was throbbing, and even the quiet peace of his surroundings failed to relax him. No alcohol was probably a good idea, after all.

He just wanted to forget the past couple of days. That morning, after the reception, and a sleepless night, he'd visited his father. Victoria's revelation had disturbed him more deeply than he'd been willing to admit, even to himself, and he'd spent the pre-dawn hours tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He knew he should just leave the whole thing the hell alone, but this was more than he could manage.

The wedding by itself had been bad enough, but now Lex felt a new vulnerability, as though he was stripped bare emotionally. The thought of Lionel as anyone else's parent made his stomach do a sick flip. The idea tapped into a long-repressed pain, summoning thoughts of Lex's lost infant brother, Julian, ragged memories of bleak anguish and loss. It had forced Lex to crack a door he had never wanted to see open again. Once, he'd been thrilled by the idea of having a sibling, but not now. Not like this.

He knew Victoria had to have known better than to let it happen. It was no accident. It was a trap.

Victoria hated kids. Lionel was scarcely a candidate for "Father of the Year. It was so wrong.

"One word, Dad. Abortion." Lex stared out the window in his father's office, seeing nothing.

The senior Luthor shook his head with a ghost of a smile as Lex turned around. "Just can't stand the thought of competition, can you, Lex?"

"Competition for what, Dad?" Lex shot an angry glare at his father. "Your love and affection?"

Lionel's statement was unreadable as he leaned back in his desk chair and ran a thin hand through his shaggy mane of hair. "Your position as the heir-apparent. And, the money, of course."

Lex bit back a retort. His father, despite being a callous bastard, had a point, after all. His life would be a lot...different...without the money.

"You don't want this, Dad. Tell me you don't."

Lionel took off his glasses, and sighed. He rose, came around the desk, and reached out a hand toward his son, but Lex backed away with a warning glare as he approached, and Lionel let the hand drop. Another sigh, and he turned back to the desk. "So, you mean that being your father should have completely put me off of the idea of having other children? Hardly, Lex."

He paused for an answer, but Lex was silent.

"Go home, Lex," Lionel said, quiet but firm. "You have responsibilities in Smallville."

Lex tensed, but still said nothing.

"You'll always be my firstborn, Lex," his father said steadily, but Lex resisted meeting his eyes.

Damn, he hated it when the man went all cryptic on him. Lex had given it up, at that point, at least for that visit. Lionel was going to tell him nothing, and he'd decided he'd better get out of there before Alexander the Great came up in the conversation.

"And you'll always be playing games with me, Dad," he snapped, before exiting.

He just hadn't been able to face going home to the vast, empty estate. Not right away.

It was fully dark by the time Clark climbed the loft stairs after supper, humming to himself and carrying a generous wedge of his mother's carrot cake. He started as he recognized Lex's dim form in the gloom. His friend was lying on his back on the sofa, hands behind his head.

"Lex!" exclaimed Clark. "I thought you were still in Metropolis."

Lex sat up and shrugged, spreading his hands and raising his eyebrows simultaneously. "I'm here, now."

Clark's face broke into a slow, warm smile, and the nightmare nausea that had plagued Lex for the past few days began to subside. It felt good to be back.

Home. The thought startled him.

"What are you doing back so soon?" Clark blurted out. "I thought you-" Lex fixed him with a glare, and he flushed. "Oh, sorry." Seating himself on the couch, he slipped an arm gently around his friend's shoulder. "It was bad, huh?"

"Clark," Lex sighed. "you have no idea."

Clark, curious, waited for him to continue, but Lex didn't meet his eyes. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, Clark asked quietly, "What did they do to you?"

"The usual," Lex said briefly, "What you'd expect. Ran me through the proverbial wringer." Making an effort to shake off his bleak mood, he turned to Clark and punched him playfully on the arm. "But, I'm tough. I can take it."

Clark beamed, and leaned over to touch his lips to his friend's ear. Lex's shiver was almost imperceptible. "You shouldn't have to take it," Clark whispered, and Lex smiled.

"So, what did she have to say?" the younger man continued after a pause, sounding as though he were inquiring about a venomous reptile. The resentment his voice betrayed both amused and touched Lex; he remembered Clark's barely-concealed jealousy of Victoria during her brief stay. He trembled slightly, hesitating, almost smiled again, and then sighed. He just didn't feel he could tell Clark everything, not yet. His feelings were still too raw.

Clark waited a moment for him to answer, then continued. "Well, at least you got through it. It's over. Now you can move on, get back to normal."

Normal? And Lex was tempted to burst into laughter. Hadn't Lionel said the same thing?

"Yeah," Lex said ruefully. "Whatever that might be. But, right now, the only place I really want to move on to is a nice, soft pillow. My head is splitting."

Clark made a clucking sound, and drummed lightly on the back of Lex's neck. Breathing deeply, he began gently to knead the tight muscles. Lex sighed, and stretched like a cat.

"You're good for me, Clark," he murmured. "Too good."

Afterwards, Lex wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew after he left that he'd probably said too much. Being with Clark had weakened his resolve to keep everything inside. He spent hours talking to Clark about everything that had happened. About how of course he didn't love Victoria, or want her, but that the idea of her with his father still made him crazy. How he felt wildly jealous, more of Victoria than of his father, because she now enjoyed a closer relationship with Lionel than he did. About Victoria's pregnancy. How the whole thing was a complete, sticky, utter mess.

Clark had continued to soothe him, stroking his arm as he spoke. "It'll be okay, Lex," the younger man kept repeating. He felt a breath of alarm combined with a new tenderness at his friend's revelations; Lex so rarely showed any vulnerability. It just made him want to hold him close.

Lex had stood up. "I can't talk about it anymore, Clark."

"Lex," Clark murmured in protest, "maybe you shouldn't be alone tonight."

Lex raised his eyebrows with a smirk, but his eyes were warm. "You're suggesting a sleepover, Clark? I'm sure your folks would love it if I stayed, or if you came home with me."

"We could stay out here in the loft," Clark suggested. "Please?"

"Clark," Lex said, as if to a naughty kid. "Not tonight."

"Okay," said Clark, with a laugh. "Another time."

"Yes," said Lex softly. Caving, he sat back down next to Clark, sliding a slim arm around the younger man's broad shoulders. They regarded each other for a long moment. Lex slapped his hands on both knees in exasperation, and said briskly, "Right. I am getting on the road."

Clark broke into the broad grin that never failed to warm Lex's heart, but then sobered. "How about you at least have some dinner, Lex? I'll bet you haven't eaten all day. I can get Mom to fix you something."

"No thanks, Clark," said Lex, "If I ate anything tonight, I don't think I could keep it down."

"Even some of my carrot cake?"

"Oh, no. I am getting sick!" Lex moaned, and Clark broke into peals of laughter, relieved.

"Okay, Lex. You don't have to eat." There was a pause.

"So," began Clark again, "Victoria's pregnant. Guess that's why they got married?"

"Guess so," said Lex. "But let's not talk about it anymore, okay?"

"Wow," Clark breathed, after a moment, "So, you won't be an only child anymore?" He sounded vaguely envious.

"Clark..." Lex warned, with a glare.

"Maybe now you won't be such a brat! You'll have to share all your toys-your cars-"

"I'm going to hit you, Clark, I swear," Lex took a fake swing at the younger man, and they both collapsed in a heap on the couch.

"Your pool table-" Clark mumbled sloppily around the hand that clapped over his mouth.

Lex thought, on the drive home, that it was a good thing he'd stopped off at the Kents. Being able to laugh again had made him feel human once more.

XII

Lionel and Victoria visited only occasionally at the castle over the next few months. Lex figured, considering the contempt his father had for Smallville, that he only did it at all to make him squirm. Lionel would storm around the plant questioning this and that, interrogating workers, and him. Somehow, Lex managed to keep him at bay.

He tried not to be home any more than he could help during these visits, as he couldn't abide seeing either of them. If Victoria tried to come on to him one more time.... Even though a small part of him had played with the idea of getting back at his father that way, common sense had gotten the upper hand. She was only trying to torture him, anyway, and he had no intention of playing her games. Besides, he doubted if Clark would forgive him for it. Clark was still innocent enough to believe that sex shouldn't be a weapon in struggles for power, and Lex wanted to preserve that innocence.

I should just take a sleeping bag to the plant, or to the Talon, he reflected drowsily one afternoon as he lounged in his blue Ferrari in the castle driveway reading a book. He started slightly as a shadow fell over the pages.

"Waiting for someone, Lex?" Lex shaded his eyes as he looked up at Clark, who was leaning in the open window, and suppressed a moan. Christ, the kid grew more beautiful every day. Dark hair, blue eyes, cherry lips...stop it, Lex.

"Nah," Lex yawned, leaning back, and stretching. He'd been almost asleep in the afternoon sun.

Clark glanced up the driveway toward the mansion, raising his eyebrows. "Locked out?"

"Nope."

The younger man heaved a deep sigh. "I won't let you do this to yourself."

"It's a good book," Lex protested.

"You're not fooling me. You're your own worst enemy."

"Yeah, so? Tell me something I don't know." He flipped the book shut. "What are you: local hero, savior, and therapist?"

Clark yanked open the unlocked door. "Come on, Lex. Move over. Move!" He shooed Lex toward the passenger side of the car like an agitated mother hen.

"Hey, Kent," Lex protested, "I don't let just anyone drive this car." Still, he grinned, and shifted his seat as Clark got in.

"Well, you're letting me." Clark turned the key in the ignition, and the Ferrari sprung to life. "Yeahhh..." he moaned with pleasure as the car circled the drive and headed out toward town. Lex frowned and raised his brows as the teenager nearly floored the gas pedal.

"Clark," said Lex, gripping the armrest. "Isn't it you who's always telling me to drive more carefully?"

"Yeah, well, um, you only live once?" Clark chuckled. The wind blew his raven hair around in a riot of waves, and his cheeks reddened. Lex swallowed hard, and covered his eyes.

Clark was still laughing. "Good thing you have-how many more of these?"

Lex couldn't suppress a snicker at this, himself. "Okay, okay," he agreed, patting Clark on the knee. "Just let me know if we get there without cracking up."

Further down the road, with the need for speed temporarily out of his system, Clark slowed the car to a more reasonable pace, and took a deep breath.

"Lex," he began, "I haven't seen you much over the past couple of weeks; I've been pretty busy with school and stuff. But I've seen you enough to be concerned."

Lex was now leaning back in the passenger seat with his eyes closed. "Well, that's nice, Clark. But I can take care of myself."

"I don't think so," Clark replied soberly. "I mean, you can, but you don't. You're drinking too much. You're pale. You look tired. You're not sleeping or eating enough."

"Good God, Dr. Kent. Am I doing anything right?"

"I'm serious, Lex. You need to take care of yourself, or have someone else do it."

Lex considered. So, Clark, take care of me, then, he mused a little startled at how quickly the thought had sprung to his mind. "I've always been responsible for myself, Clark," he said slowly and simply.

Clark couldn't help but think how brave but lonely that sounded.

"I know just the person, too," he averred, as though Lex hadn't spoken. He steered the car down the country road that led to the Kent farm. "My mom."

____________________

It had been a long, hard pull, but Lex was doing better around Clark's family. He had always known their worth, but getting Clark's father to accept him had been more of a challenge. But now, Jonathan's face no longer settled into an automatic scowl when Lex came into view, and Martha mainly seemed determined to fatten him up. Whenever he visited, he was roped into staying to eat, and plied with far more than his fill of farm cooking. Waffles, apple pie, homemade bread, beef stew-and Martha was always pushing more food on him. It was true he didn't consume anywhere near what Clark did,with his voracious teenage appetite. He never had, even at Clark's age. The Kent men were accustomed to such hearty daily fare, and to working it off, but Lex wasn't. Regardless, whenever he visited the Kents, he couldn't avoid eating way more than usual.

Lex had begun to feel almost comfortable there. He liked getting a break from work and the lonely manor, hanging out with Clark, watching TV movies and sitcoms over a bowl of pretzels. Sometimes on the weekends, he liked helping with Clark's chores, even the bone-wrenching and exhausting ones.

He wondered, on occasion, what it would have been like, had he grown up in a family like Clark's. Lots of physical and emotional support, normal, upbeat conversation, healthy discipline. Jonathan's cautionary, advice-laden lectures to his son were in stark contrast to Lionel's barked insults, nasty challenges, and mind-games. He pondered having a dad who conversed with him as though he were an equal, as though he loved and cared about him. A mother who was healthy. God, he would have been a different person. Often, he wondered if his face was as pale with envy as it felt as he observed the Kents' affectionate banter, their hugs, all the ruffling of Clark's curls.

Still, he really enjoyed spending time there. Sometimes, Clark made him feel all big-brother and worldly wise: wide-eyed, and hanging, sometimes open-mouthed, on his every word. He'd soak up all Lex's experienced advice on avoiding traffic tickets, driving a $120,000 sports car, and predicting the winning sports teams. And, sometimes, it was he who felt like the naughty, recalcitrant kid while the teenager dispensed wholesome wisdom, or the occasional platitude that made Clark sound amazingly like his father-and made Lex want to crush him affectionately in his arms.

They rarely talked about Lex's father, or Victoria, or about the Luthor family situation in general. Lex could tell that Clark understood he was troubled by it, but that discussing it wasn't the kind of support he needed right then.

If not for Clark and his family, nothing would have saved Lex from a total downward spiral during those dismal months.

XIII

The DNA test was Lionel's idea.

He had introduced the subject in a confidential talk with Lex during one of his visits, early in the summer. He'd nabbed his son before he could slip away to Clark's or any of his other hiding places that day, and made the proposal over morning coffee in his garden study.

All the planning had already been done.

Just a formality, Lex, he'd said. For our own peace of mind. They both knew that Victoria had been with both of them, after all.

And Lord knows who else, Lex thought, but didn't say.

Okay. Lex had known he would have to face this sooner or later, though he'd tried to avoid thinking about it, the possibility that he could be the one responsible for Victoria's condition. He could count dates as well as anyone else.

Trust his dad to wallop him in the face with it, though he would have expected Lionel to bring up the subject before this. Since he hadn't, Lex had just figured he was going to assume parentage automatically, regardless. He himself hadn't been about to argue, that was for sure.

Damn, but I really don't want to be in this conversation, Lex thought uneasily. Though he'd had many bizarre dialogues with his father over the years, this had to rank as one of the worst. Even Lex didn't dare do more than fantasize about walking away from Lionel Luthor, though. He just shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling suddenly chilled. The stillness in the room was almost eerie. He wondered just why Lionel was bringing the subject up, now. Had he been so hot to have Victoria in his bed that it hadn't mattered before?

And, since when had his father ever been concerned with "peace of mind,"-his own, or anyone else's?

Must be the Luthor need for information, power and leverage that Lionel had to such excess. Admit it, Lex: you usually have it to excess, too.

That, or else he wanted to put Lex on the spot, skewer him with the proof like a moth to a corkboard, to fix him so he couldn't deny the truth. To make it impossible for him to escape some of the responsibility of fatherhood, the psychological responsibility, at least. Lionel had always relished having power over Lex, watching him writhe, squirm, and struggle-whatever the reason. And, if Lionel were proven to be the father, it would be just another way to ensure Lex's financial and emotional exclusion.

"Know something, Dad? I'm not comfortable discussing this with you. But, that's probably your intention?"

Lionel leaned back in his chair. "There's nothing to discuss."

"I don't really have anything to do with this. You and Victoria are married now. I'm out of the picture. Leave me out of it. Leave well enough alone."

"Lex," said his father, "we need to know."

"Why?" Lex's voice held a faint note of desperation.

"Don't be difficult," Lionel almost snapped, then made an almost visible effort to calm himself.

And Lex wondered why it mattered so much, but figured he already knew, after all. Knowledge is power: the standard and inescapable Luthor philosophy.

"Then we're agreed," Lionel began again, after a moment.

The thought gave him a cold chill, but Lex could see no real reason for not complying, except maybe sheer stubbornness. Whenever Lionel became this insistent, instinct and force of long habit prompted him to resist. But, having this test done could work in his favor. If it excepted him from responsibility, he could distance himself from the whole thing, and from them. Forever, he hoped.

And, if it confirmed he was responsible?

At least he would know. Like his father, he believed in the value of information. He recalled once advising Clark that there was no such thing as too much.

"You agreed for me, Dad," he said simply, and Lionel gave him a smile that seemed almost genuine for a moment, though it quickly vanished.

"Good. It can be performed this week. In Metropolis, of course."

Lex got to his feet and walked to the window. He was silent for a moment before wheeling about abruptly.

"What does Victoria think about this?" he asked, quietly but sharply.

"She has no objections," Lionel responded, running a wiry palm tensely through the thick mane of unruly hair that Lex could swear he continued to sport just to bug him.

"Have you even asked her?" he spat.

Lionel looked exasperated, but before he could open his mouth to reply, Lex continued.

"Isn't it dangerous to test on her now? Shouldn't it wait till later?"

Lionel seemed a shade more tense as he spun his desk chair around, but didn't meet Lex's eyes. "There are some risks, yes. But not enough to concern us. The best medical assistance will be available. And any risks are justified, considering the situation."

"The situation?" Lex's voice was quiet but intense; he looked entirely puzzled for a moment, and sounded it, too.

"Never mind, Lex," said Lionel. "It will be taken care of."

Lex's confused expression was rapidly replaced by one of scorn. He thought for a moment. "And what difference will the results make?"

"Difference to whom?" Lionel had spun his chair around to face the garden window.

"To the child, Dad. To future treatments, attitudes-"

"There won't be any difference, Lex." Lionel said firmly, drumming on the arm of the chair.

"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you, Dad? If so, why does this test need to be done?"

"Lex," said his father quietly, turning around once more. "Haven't I taught you anything these past years? Family is family."

"Yes," Lex answered, still sounding quietly puzzled. "I do recall having this conversation with you, not too long ago." He continued to consider only for a moment. "Okay, then," he said brusquely, getting to his feet. "Whatever you want. Schedule it."

XIV

When cost was not a concern, results could be available within forty-eight hours. So, within a week, Lex's father sat him down again in the garden study for another talk. It was toward the close of a hot, muggy afternoon.

Lionel sat back in his desk chair, steepling his fingers as he spoke. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned, this child will be mine. And, as far as we are concerned."

Lex cleared his throat after an uncomfortable pause. He took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the window, feeling, as he did so, as though he trod on nothing. Exhaling slowly, he clenched his teeth, balling his fists in his pockets.

"So, that means--" he began.

"It means what I say it means," said Lionel abruptly.

Lex tried to wrap his mind around that. He had tried like the devil to get hold of the results before Lionel did, but had not been successful. Those in charge of the information had been even more afraid of his father than of him.

So, Dad: congratulations, Lex thought grimly. You're going to be a grandfather, not a father.

"Victoria?" Lex asked, over his shoulder.

"She's been tested already. Amniocentesis. It's a boy, and healthy." Lionel paused for a moment, and then continued, "My son."

Lex turned back to the window. My son, he thought, with a strange new tenderness. He continued to stare outside into the late afternoon shadows, but his lip trembled slightly, though almost imperceptibly, and he could feel the color drain slowly from his face. After a moment, he spun around abruptly, his voice low and urgent.

"Why, Dad? Why are you doing this?" A part of his mind wondered obliquely that he was still trying to get any but the most basic information from Lionel.

"I have my reasons, Lex," said Lionel, and Lex sensed that his father was about to conclude the meeting. He tried to prolong the conversation, despite a dull certainty that the cause was hopeless.

"And you're not going to tell me what they are?"

"Not at this time."

Lex gripped the window ledge so tightly that his knuckles whitened. He was trembling, with anger, not fear, because he was never afraid-never. Things were spinning out of control too quickly for him to grasp, and a strange, sick sensation, the like of which he hadn't felt since Julian died, passed over him. He needed time, a few moments, even-but Lionel definitely wasn't going to give him that advantage.

"So, it's settled," Lionel stood up, and sighed deeply. "You will go on with your duties, and with your life here," he instructed. "Put this out of your mind." With painful clarity, Lex noted the dismissal in his father's tone.

"That won't be easy, Dad." Lex didn't turn from the window as he spoke. Damn, he thought, if only he could breathe. Not an asthma attack, not after more than a decade. God, don't let it happen now. His father had stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his arm, which Lex jerked away at once. His cheeks felt bloodless and pale. A show of weakness, in front of Lionel. He hated it.

Lionel let the hand fall to his side. "You never let me touch you. Ever." he observed, almost as if to himself. Almost wondering, with a breath of regret.

Lex stumbled back to the chair he had left a few minutes earlier. He managed to draw one deep breath, then another. His hands were shaking, and he made a desperate effort to still them, staring at the floor for a long moment before speaking.

"This is another of your famous lessons, then," he hissed. "What am I supposed to learn this time? That you always win?" He paused for a moment, then continued more quietly. "I learned that a long time ago, Dad."

Lionel strode over to stand before him, and his low voice had an intensity that was almost chilling. "That I'm in charge. Always. That you're too young to be trusted with important decisions, to provide the appropriate influence. So, that responsibility will be mine."

"The last I heard, age eighteen is legal adulthood."

"Don't disagree just for the sake of argument, Lex. You know you don't want to be a father, yet. You're just too young."

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

"This isn't open to discussion," Lionel said bitingly. "It never was."

Lex put a hand to his aching brow. "Age is relative, Dad. Have you told Victoria?"

"She knows."

Lex seemed to consider for a moment more. His voice was quiet and matter-of-fact when he spoke again. "So, I'm being passed over for the second time."

Lionel started to answer, but caught himself, remaining silent.

They both remained for a few moments without speaking. The only sounds breaking the quiet were the splash of the fountain in the garden and the ticking of Lionel's study clock.

The senior Luthor paused beside his son's chair on his way out. Lex didn't look up.

"It will be well worth your while, Alexander," he said softly, "A fortune." He almost made as if to touch his son again, but let his hand drop. Lex remained motionless, not meeting his eyes.

"Victoria and I will return to Metropolis tomorrow. And, the records are sealed. As of this afternoon." And Lionel was gone.

____________________

Lex remained for some time in Lionel's study after his father's departure. He hadn't moved from his chair. It had grown fully dark outside, and he was way late for dinner at Clark's. He wasn't hungry, though. Maybe he'd never be hungry again.

Never, never tip your hand, he admonished himself, too late. His father had just taken control of everything, and he'd just let him do it.

XV

It was stifling hot in the Kents' barn. Bugs, stale air, dust, and no breeze at all. Clark could scarcely breathe. There would certainly be a cloudburst before dawn.

He stood at the window at his telescope, gnawing on his lower lip as he checked out the surrounding area roads. No sign of him yet--even when Clark abandoned the telescope and relied on x-ray vision.

Clark had been uneasy since receiving the telephone call early that evening. Lex had begged off coming over for dinner, and been firm about it, despite Clark's disappointed protests. But the always-cool Lex had sounded unlike himself. Too calm and quiet, even for him. Almost as if someone had died. Clark had made him promise to come over later, after his parents had gone to bed, and Lex had reluctantly agreed.

The younger man wondered what was going on, now. Lex never gave out information easily, but he'd seemed even more cryptic than usual the past couple of weeks. And, this afternoon, the sound of his friend's toneless voice over the line had frightened him. He knew something major had been eating at Lex. Did it involve Clark in any way? Was this going to be goodbye?

Clark was concerned, but he really didn't think so. He figured it was still Lionel, or Victoria, or both of them. God, this had to be hell for Lex. How lucky he was to belong to the Kent family.

He waited for what seemed like a long time. The half-moon had risen in the sultry sky by the time his keen hearing detected Lex's footfalls at the barn door.

Finally. Clark exhaled, relieved. He raised his eyebrows as Lex came up the stairs, and looked pointedly at his watch.

"Hot in here," Lex observed, slurring slightly, and stumbling.

"August in Kansas, what do you expect?" Clark shrugged, glad that Lex had arrived at last, exasperated that it had taken so long. "How much have you had?"

"Not enough," said Lex.

Lex was deathly white. Clark cleared his throat and hesitated uneasily before speaking again. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"Well, tell me what happened." Clark sat down on the sofa, motioning for Lex to sit beside him. "How did it go-the meeting with your dad?"

"It's over."

Clark waiting for him to continue, looking nonplussed.

Lex sat down, and tried to sound casual, but his voice was thick and ragged. "Clark," he said, "I've dropped out of the human race."

Clark gave him a wry smile. "Oh, yeah?" He poked Lex in the ribs, but his grin faded as he sensed how deeply troubled his friend was this evening.

"Don't say that, Lex," he murmured, "Even though you try to hide it, you're probably the most human person I know."

Lex gave him a faint grin, but Clark didn't like the look in his eyes. "That's nice, Clark. I'm glad you see me that way, but I can't defend myself. It's enough to say that I've made a decision I'll have to live with for the rest of my life." He took a deep breath, and shot Clark a look of bleak despair. "I'm a coward, pure and simple."

And, then, he was weeping, sobbing in great gasps and gulps. He didn't know where it was all coming from, but his shoulders shook violently as he buried his face in his hands.

Catching his breath, Clark twined his arms around his friend. "Don't, Lex," he choked, "It'll be okay." Despite the heat, cold fear gripped Clark. This was far worse than he had expected. "Lex, you have so much. Don't give up on it."

Lex clutched at Clark in desperation, like a drowning man. "Clark, you don't get it, do you? I have nothing. Zip. Zero." He brushed a hand across his eyes, willing himself to calm down. "I am nothing," he finished, quietly.

"Don't say that, Lex, please. It's not true. Besides, you have me." Clark caught himself, and blushed. How dorky did that sound, he wondered. He hoped it might at least cheer Lex up, make him laugh, maybe, but it didn't. Just a ghost of a smile,laden with misery. Lex coughed, the sobbing fit having subsided.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing hard. "I have you. He ran a hand through Clark's dark curls, and Clark leaned into the caress with a soft murmur. "You have no idea how important you are to me, do you? I don't have anything or anyone but you." Lex drew a shaky breath. "I've never admitted needing anyone before, Clark. But, I need you. So fucking badly." He didn't meet Clark's eyes. "You keep anything, any minuscule part of me that's still good, grounded, Clark," he finished simply. "Don't ever leave me."

"Don't worry, Lex," Clark reassured him. "I won't."

Still, He's so smart, he knows so much, the younger man thought, unbidden. There's no way I can be enough for him, not by myself. He tried not to, but he felt a clutch of panic.

He waited for Lex to speak again, but in vain. Lex got to his feet, and, wandering to the telescope, began fiddling with it absently, scanning for some unknown target. Clark watched, and waited.

"So," said Lex, "How do I aim this thing to see into Lana's bedroom?"

"Don't, Lex," Clark jumped to his feet, his voice brusque, hurt, almost angry. He stepped over to the scope, steadying it, forcing Lex to let go.

"Just kidding, Clark," Lex protested, backing away.

"I mean, don't blow me off, God damn it. You always do that, get really serious, start letting me in, and then slam the door shut again."

"Sorry," said Lex. exhaling in surprise. He'd never before heard Clark swear.

"Friends are supposed to be honest with each other," Clark reminded him. Lex's pain was making him feel raw, hurt, and vulnerable, himself.

"I don't think I know how to be honest anymore," Lex breathed, gazing out the barn window into the gloom outside. He glanced at Clark only for a brief, haunted second. Clark's breathing slowed as he willed himself to calm down, to let go of his irritation and let compassion take its place.

"Look at me, Lex," the younger man said steadily."Victoria's baby. It's yours, isn't it?"

Lex dropped his gaze, not meeting Clark's eyes, and responded only after a pause. "No, it's not, Clark."

Not anymore, he thought.

"Lex, you're in shreds," Clark continued quietly. And, when you're hurting, so am I." Trembling, he reached out to his friend as Lex's face crumpled again.

Clark's concern would be his undoing, Lex thought, and he buried his face in his hands once more.

____________________

Clark was the first to touch, this time. He bent in to press his lips to Lex's, gently and feather-light in the beginning, and then opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Lex's breath caught in his throat for the briefest of moments, and then he was kissing back, letting Clark lead at first, then harder, cupping the youth's head in both hands and burying his fingers in dark curls. Still struggling with sobs, he placed one hand on Clark's back, fisting one hand in Clark's light t-shirt and shoving him back hard against the barn wall.

Clark gasped, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on Lex's collar. When they were unfastened, he kissed a soft trail along the exposed collarbone, his breathing ragged as he did so. His friend's face was still damp with tears, but Clark touched a finger to a wet cheek and traced the trail down to Lex's chin. He smiled slightly before his eyes darkened and he bent his head to Lex's lips once more.

Lex's hands ghosted over Clark's chest, and he lowered his head so his lips could follow. He slid to his knees, his mouth nuzzling the fly of Clark's jeans, pressing kissing open-mouthed against the coarse fabric and the hardness beneath. Clark trembled, passing his hands over his friend's scalp in a halting, exquisite caress, and then grasped hard. "Lex," he moaned roughly, and reached down to draw him to his feet. Lex wondered for a brief moment if he'd gone too far once again, but Clark's next words dispelled the notion.

"It's time, Lex," Clark said quietly "I'm ready, now."

Lex shuddered, resting his forehead against Clark's for a moment. When he raised his eyes again, his glance was dark. His voice was husky, almost angry. "You're sure? I want you to be sure. Be sure."

Clark took a deep breath, and nodded. "I am."

____________________

Several hours after Lex had fallen into an exhausted slumber, Clark still lay awake.

He bent over his friend, brushing his lips with his own.

"I love you," he whispered. Still, he felt a cold knot of fear deep inside, twisting in his belly, tenacious and inescapable.

Lex scared him.

He'd promised never to leave him, but, was that a promise he could keep?

XVI

Lex finally felt himself getting a handle on things. The better part of a year had passed since he and Clark had sealed their relationship. The wheat still waved in the fields around the castle, and life had gone on. Even if Lex wasn't exactly happy, he was at least in a reasonable routine.

He could handle it when his father and Victoria came from Metropolis with their infant son. Go to the plant, spend time at Clark's, keep contact with the parents blandly pleasant (and to a minimum). Chit-chat a little (just a little), admire the baby, and split. He was proud that, so far, he'd been able to carry off this formula with very few breaks in the veneer. Not bad, he congratulated himself frequently.

He tried to keep his distance, but he did reserve a secret pleasure for himself during these visits that were sometimes announced, sometimes a surprise. Often, in the evening or very early morning, when everyone else was asleep and the castle's second-floor wing was deserted, Lex would slip into the nursery for a look at the sleeping infant. Lionel had named him Charles Anthony Luthor, after an emperor and a king, but Lex privately liked to think of him as Ben. He'd have picked the name Benedict for a son of his own, just because he liked it.

He always made sure his visits were unobserved. He especially didn't want Lionel to discover them, and it wouldn't do anyway if it became common knowledge, even among the staff, that sleekly-cool, tough-guy Lex Luthor was a sucker for babies. And, he hoped to continue these visits for awhile, at least until he was found out.

The kid really was cute, Lex had to admit. A sheen of fine, mahogany-red hair was beginning to cover the small scalp that, at birth, had been stark bald. Lex couldn't help but chuckle at that, his own experience in reverse, how funny. Ben was cuddly in a slightly chubby way, but Lex rarely dared to pick him up, for fear of waking him. Sometimes, though, the infant would stir and sigh in its sleep, and Lex would stretch out a pinky for it to grasp. And the grip was pretty decisive, definitely a Luthor characteristic. Lex would sigh softly as he disengaged his finger, and part with a brief caress to the downy cheek.

He wouldn't be surprised, he mused, if he had a closer bond with this boy than most half-brothers had with each other, even allowing for the difference in their ages. And he couldn't help hoping that this childhood would be a bit better than this own had been, that maybe this time Lionel would forego insisting on boarding schools and stay home a bit more. Maybe subdue that pathological need to administer lessons at every opportunity. As of now, Lionel seemed to be away a lot. An even less involved parent than he'd been when Lex was small. Lex hated to think the new Luthor heir would grow up the way he had, neglected by the most important man in his life, starved for attention.

He sensed, however, that the whole business might oddly have relaxed Lionel, just a little. And, in an even stranger way, brought father and elder son just a bit closer, now that they had this secret knowledge in common, even though they skirted around it, never really referring to it. Sort of a bond of trust. Lionel had even indicated that, because he'd been so cooperative, Lex didn't have to worry overmuch about the size of his share of the inheritance. He had even said that he intended to back off and trust Lex to run the Smallville plant effectively without interference. If Lex really didn't know better, he'd have sworn Lionel was almost extending an olive branch to his elder son, who could have told him it was too little, too late, and things were just too weird. But that the thought was appreciated, he supposed, as much as it could be.

At one time, Lex would have been more defiant, would have enjoyed defying his father, stirring up conflict. But, he couldn't see how this would help. He was getting tired, and his energy was needed in other areas. It could cause problems for Ben, too, and that was to be avoided at all costs.

It almost seemed, too, as though letting Lionel "win," was, in a strange way, Lex's biggest triumph. Battles needed to be chosen. This was common knowledge for any great leader, and now, there was a slight, unspoken sense that his father knew that he owed him. Lex found that gratifying. He knew as well that he himself had in no way been ready for the responsibilities of fatherhood. Lionel would not have been his first choice for a substitute, but it wasn't as if he'd made the choice himself.

If only he could get over needing the man's respect. He'd resigned himself to the absence of his love long ago.

Poor Victoria, though, still no match for his father, who made a show of consulting her about everything, and then disregarded whatever she proposed.

Strangely enough she was proving a better mother than anyone could have foreseen, though she, too, was absent for long periods of time, with little explanation. She was lovelier than ever, and even though she and Lex weren't friends by a long shot, they were able to meet civilly when the occasion required. Maybe they were both growing up, at long last. Sometimes, a ghost of a gleam in her eye would almost rekindle the old love/hate chemistry, and he would wonder if she really was finished with him, after all. But most of the animosity was gone, and they were both capable of behaving. Things were about as stable as they could be.

Except for a brief conversation they'd had during the last visit, which left Lex worried. Maybe not worried, but concerned. They had met in the vast kitchen, at the refrigerator, in their pajamas, both after juice. After exchanging the basic morning pleasantries, Victoria had drawn very close to him, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Lex had tensed, but held himself still, since she stopped short of touching him.

"You just think you know me, Lex," she purred. "So does your father. But neither of you knows what I have in mind."

He raised his eyebrows and pretended to be alarmed. "Really?" he breathed.

"Wait and see," she murmured. "Everything is proceeding exactly as I intended." Then, she had chucked him under the chin and glided off with her glass of juice.

Lex doubted that; she was probably bluffing, but he'd still have to keep a very close eye on her. Victoria was firmly settled within the family now, and could do far more harm if she chose.

No, scratch just keeping an eye on her. He'd better find out what she was up to, and fast.

In the meantime, he had his own goals, which would demand all his focus and attention. Business plans and successes, scientific discoveries, politics. Clark would be with him for the whole run, of course. It was inevitable.

Maybe someday, he'd level with Clark, at least: tell him the truth about being Ben's real father, and having a son of his own, since his friend had sort of guessed already. Clark, of all people, should be worthy of that trust. Because no one else would ever know.

Maybe he could get Clark to divulge a secret or two of his own.

And maybe big brother Lex could set Ben one or two good examples as he grew up.

Good examples, not bad ones, Lex. Remember that.

He wasn't sure if the voice in his head was Clark's, or his own.

_____________________

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