Crossroads - Chapter 5

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, PG-13

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He’d urged, and Clark had submitted to the test without a murmur of protest. Now, he turned the sonogram in his hand, this way, then that, morning light from the window illuminating the small square. Peering close as he sipped cinnamon-laced coffee, he studied with cool detachment. Envisioned the square blown up to mega-size as a main feature in his newest display, in a locked room the only key to which he wore around his neck.

A child. Their child.

His child. He knew, without proof, as fully as Clark did. Further tests were unnecessary.

Lex had a weakness for shrines, a habit almost Catholic of surrounding himself with tangible evidence of his interests, research projects and concerns. Photographic proof of the presence of his child in Clark Kent’s body was only one of the developments that might turn anyone but him into a religious man.

There was another. Clark, suddenly flung back into his life, having divulged everything Lex had ever suspected, ever wanted, and more. But not of his free will. He had an agenda. A big one. Lex’s lips curved into a smile as he studied the photo. He could already make out face, fingers and toes.

Would Clark have come to him if he hadn’t been desperate for help? Lex doubted it with a bitterness that at times threatened to consume him. Fortunately, these times were rare. Most days, he managed to compartmentalize the bitterness, keep it isolated, at arms’ length, enough to conduct himself as usual with both business associates and former friends. Because his weakness for Clark Kent eclipsed even his penchant for shrines. He was honest enough with himself to admit that.

What would happen? How would the pregnancy progress? How would it affect Clark, who would have forsaken him, but was now inextricably bound to him.

So many questions. So many answers to be found. At one time, he’d have given his entire fortune and more to secure Clark's trust, but those days were past. Long past.

It was time to look to the future. No time to waste time in bitterness. He had greater goals in mind. If he couldn’t understand the past few months, he was damned sure Clark couldn’t, either. Confused? Perhaps. But, more than that, intrigued.

This would prove the culmination of their relationship. The reason that their orbits had collided that autumn moment on the riverbank and remained joined ever since, no matter what forces conspired to drive them apart. The connection, the power. The two of them together as instruments, agents to engender a miracle. What would this child—--his child--be, gestated in a magnificent body from another world, likely possessing powers no one could check or fathom.

He stood on the brink of a great adventure. And discovery.

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