Val (vval) wrote in svrp,

  • Mood:

Back form the dead? Not really. [Clex - Scene - Jan 5th - PG]

As you probably have noticed, this RPG has died. It really sucks because we had an amazing storyline prepared for it and the things were just starting to get interesting. I don't think we'll ever write more for this RPG because most of the players have very hectic lives right now (Uni,jobs and such).

However, we had written quite a few scenes that were never posted, maybe because we were waiting to edit it, or maybe because we were waiting for someone else to post, well it doesn't matter, I still have them on my computer and some of those scenes are, in my opnion, awesome scene that I know I'll wanna read again when bored or simply nostalgic so I figured I'd just post here and give everyone that option.

I hope they are all in the correct order and if anyone has scenes that I may not have please send it to me or post it yourself.

Clark wondered again why he agreed to meet Lex now. Not that he didn't want to see him, he thought that they were on the way to repairing things between them, at least they'd made a start, but he was feeling very, very uncomfortable. He hadn't realised how open he could be online. Or was it Lex he felt he could be open with? He wasn't sure, it wasn't like he hadn't told others about this, but with Lex it was different. He didn't think it was Lex's age. He was, he realised, confused. It seemed simple, but it wasn't really. He walked towards The Corner and hoped he was the first to arrive. He wanted to find somewhere with privacy to talk with Lex.


Lex jerked out of 'The Zone' somewhere at the end of page 37 on the weekly report from the Production Department, shooting a quick glance at his wristwatch, then a short curse from his mouth. Shutting down his laptop and leaving the files in his personal chaotic sorting system, he left his office about 5 minutes before he was supposed to meet Clark.

He ignored all attempts at waylaying by his employees, barking out short orders where absolutely inevitable and managed to be down on ground level and out of the door within five minutes. Another five minutes of long strides, tempered down only at the doorstep of the Corner had him inside the cafè and looking for the familiar brunet head.

Clark'd got there first and breathed a sigh of thanks before finding a seat far in the back, with few tables around them. As long as things didn't get to a shouting point, and Clark doubted they would, they'd have a decent amount of privacy.

He glanced at his watch and grinned, Lex was late again. He was a little relieved, only because it gave him a few more moments to compose himself. Or at least to try to. He drummed his fingers on the table, and politely refused an offer to order, saying he was waiting for someone.

Lex had to scan the entire area twice before he finally spotted the boy in the far back, squished into a corner booth so well hidden that he'd actually had to take a few steps away from the counter and deeper into the room to see him. Shaking his head, Lex went back to the counter. Slow business around this hour, so he didn't have to wait.

"Coffee, black with heaps of sugar and a Coffee Mocha, and two slices of that apple pie," he ordered, ignoring the once again unfamiliar barista.

Having paid, he picked up the cardboard box and made his way to the back, straight for Clark who was still drumming his fingers on the desk, looking just a tad nervous. Lex's mouth curled into a sharp smirk.

"This seat taken," he asked politely.

"Only by you," Clark said and grinned. "Apple pie, Lex?" He laughed then, and looked fully at Lex for the first time. He was almost surprised that he didn't look different after their mutual revelations. Then he's surprised that he expected him to.

"So..." he starts talking. "Do I dare ask how the business world is today?"

Lex settled down and handed over the coffee and a slice of the pie. He shrugged at Clark's comment, stating with a shrug, "It's not as good as Martha's but definitely edible." Taking a sip of his coffee before he continued, "And business is tedious as usual, but I told you that earlier already, I think."

He made a little pause there to give his next statement more effect. "Then again, we talked about far more interesting things, so it wouldn't be a surprise if you forgot that part of the conversation," he flashed a sharp grin, waiting for Clark's reaction.

Clark almost choked on his coffee. So it wasn't even going to be a short respite. "You could say that," he muttered, looking at the table in seeming fascination, his eyes traced the lines in the wood, over and over. He realised that he wasn't sure how to talk about this with Lex face to face. But he had to.

He looked up. "Do you mean the part where we both came out?"

Lex bit down on the inside of his cheek as he watched Clark going through the warring emotions of fight or flight, before he seemed to settle on fight.

"For instance, but not exclusively that part of the conversation," he said calmly.

It was the Luthor way of an out. Not a choice between comfortable and uncomfortable, but between uncomfortable and really uncomfortable. Choice of the lesser evil. Depending now on what Clark thought was the lesser evil to speak about.

"There was another part?" Clark said, but he was smiling just a little. "I'm afraid I can't really remember. I think it's the embrarrassment factor. Or maybe the I finally managed to talk about it with a guy factor."

He sipped his coffee and took a bite of pie. "It's not as good as Mom's." He wasn't prevaricating. Really.

So being bisexual was the lesser evil than talking about dead people. Alright, Lex could deal with that. Far less messy in any case, at least concerning the aftermath. Then again, not in every case, especially not when it came to him where sex and death tended to get linked and mixed up and create an entirely new form of mess.

"I told you it wouldn't hold up to Martha's standards. Has she ever thought of getting back into the cooking business? This place and by extension she could make a fortune of her goods," he commented to give Clark a subtle breather.

"Have you told her about your," slight pause. "Orientation?" Or maybe no breather.

He was about to answer the first part when Lex came out with the second part, and he had to think a moment. "No," he said, eventually. "I haven't, it didn't really seem to ever be an issue. When I was figuring it out, it was a secret, and when I knew, there were other things going on that made it seem....less than vital to share at the time."

He thought that would be enough of an explanation, at least for a moment. He leaned back and caught his breath, that he hadn't realised that he'd lost.

Lex nodded slowly, accepting the answer given. Particularly since it wasn't too hard to fill in the blanks. Lana, highschool, Lana, being a teenager, Jonathan's death. And there his extrapolations came to a grinding halt, because what was there left to say after that.

"So you're keeping it under wraps for the moment? That's maybe not a bad idea. And since you're occupied with the illustrous Miss Lane at the moment, it's not really and issue, is it?"

"Did your father know about you?" Clark asked, then wished he could take it back. Though Lex had asked him, after all. "And you're right. It's not an issue right now."

He was still cringing from asking the question, his tongue sometimes got away from him.

He managed to hold back the self-deprecating smile, instead feeling himself growing numb at the mention of his father. "There was not much I could keep a secret from Lionel Luthor. He had a way of finding out especially those things I tried to keep hidden most." 'Like you,' he left unsaid.

Trying to get himself back from the cold place his mind went whenever his father came up in conversation, he took a long sip from his coffee, then another. The pie was still untouched in front of him. He'd lost his appetite.

"That was probably the wrong thing to say," Clark said, blushing. He didn't even know where it had come from. "I'm sorry, Lex, it just..." He trailed off, not sure what to say. "I didn't mean it badly."

Lex nodded again, the cold slowly dissipating with another sip of coffee. "It's alright."

When had this conversation gone so far down hill? Oh right, about a minute ago when Clark had decided to bring Lionel into this. 'Thanks, dad.' With a quick lip curl, he decided to heave the conversation back up onto a more pleasant level.

"But now you owe me so," sharp, feral grin, "Tell me, how was the quarterback?"

Not that he expected much, since they'd both been teenagers, jesus Clark had barely been sixteen then and Fordman had been what? Two years older and having gone steady with the ice-princess of town for a good while. No chance he had much of experience going there. But it should at least do for entertainment value.

Clark could feel the blush creeping into his face. It wasn't about the memories so much as putting them into words.

"Whitney...and Lois...were the best I ever had..." he said, finally, stumbling over the words. "I know, you're wondering how he could be so great. Well....I loved him. That made it good in a significant way. And, well...we....researched." He was blushing more, remembering the sites they'd visited on the internet, but they had helped, so very much. It was the only source of information they'd had - they could hardly buy a how to book without a few raised eyebrows.

Lex's brow rose inquisitively at Clark's stumbled not words and half sentences. Interesting how someone could have an illicit affair with someone like Lois Lane of all people and still not be able to talk freely about sex. Quite endearing, too, in an exhasperating way.

"The internet as a boys best friend, should have known. Or did you actually go to the library and find something that was enlightening and had not yet been banished from the 'innocent eyes' of the local youth?"

Back when he'd had his first experiences, the only thing he'd been able to work on was dirty stories passed in locker rooms and the knowledge of what felt good on himself. Curse restricted internet access and 'child security'. And surfing for porn under the always watchful surveillance of his father? Not an option.

"The Net," Clark said. "The library was useless, unfortunately. Seemed that there was some kind of moral clean up going on all the time there."

He sipped his coffee. "Practice also helped," he said, remembering. "We used to...find something new to try every time...." he blushed more, but it was a good memory that caused it.

"I think caring about your partner helps," Clark said, eventually. "The rest seems to work better then. Even if it's not love, like with Lois, it works better when you have respect."

Respect as an instigator for better sex. Interesting concept. Lex tried to remember who he'd had the better sex with, Helen or Victoria. It took about three seconds. Vicky, definitely, Vicky. He almost nodded to himself, but caught the movement in time. However, there was no reason to rob Clark of his delusions, since they weren't harmful in any way.

"Respect definitely has an affect on sex, that's true," he commented vaguely instead.

He'd respected Helen enough not to insist when she'd brushed him off with excuses. Big mistake that. Maybe if he'd fucked her harder, more often, she'd not have tried to kill him. Couldn't help the grin on his face imagining.

"But somtimes, sex without a deeper emotion behind it can be quite amazing," he murmured, remembering nameless bodies and faces born for fucking. Writhing on the dancefloor as much as in the bedroom, bathroom, hallway, back alley. Whichever happened to be the final destination.

More memories ran through Clark's mind, a drugged encounter in a club bathroom - Clark as out of his mind on RedK as the guy was on coke. It had been....amazing. And not the first or last time. Hot mouth, aching cock...oh, yes.

"You're right," Clark nodded. "Sex just for the sake of sex can feel pretty good too."

And it had, in the moment, and maybe longer, but it had never been enough to wipe out what he was trying to wipe out. He wondered for a moment if it would feel different if he wasn't under the influence of RedK.

That raised both brows on Lex's forehead and threatened for a split second to make his jaw go slack. "Clark Kent does casual sex?"

It was not a concept his mind was prepared to wrap around. The son of the always maternal and understanding, yet deeply moralistic Martha Kent and the stubborn, straight-line, a platitude a day, judgemental Jonathan Kent. Was not only bisexual but also engaging in casual sex without emotions. Lex had a sudden surreal urge to go to the observatory and find out if the world was still turning in the same direction as before.

"You're pulling my leg," he dead-panned.

"No, not quite. You were kind of tied up at the time, something about an island?" He didn't want to bring up those memories too clearly right then. "Well, I had what could be considered to be a summer of adolescent rebellion. And one of the things I rebelled with....was casual sex."

He was surprised how easily it came out, but then he'd never really kept it from Lex consciously, more that he'd thought Lex wouldn't really want to be reminded too much of that time, and there were parts he hadn't wanted to think of much as well.

So Clark was fucking his brains out in a teenage rebellion while he was fighting for survival on a less than accommodating tropical island, thanks to his wife, and everyone else thought he was dead. Huh. What do you say to that? No, really.

"So you've got your own shady past now," he commented with a smirk, then took a healthy swig of his coffee, finishing it off. "What made you come back?"

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "For whatever it's worth. And I don't regret all of it." He didn't. It was strange, because there were times he had.

"It was..." he hesitated. "My father. He managed to talk some sense into me. Brought me home." Signed his death warrant, though none of them could have known that, he added to himself.

Lex nodded again, in acknowledgement. That was plausible enough, though with 'talking' it was far too easy to imagine a solid beating at the hands of the elder Kent. The man had a temper and Lex had a feeling that a simple 'talking to' wouldn't be enough to make an out of control Clark see reason. He remembered what seemed a long time ago.

Cocky arrogance, long strides and billowing black coat. Elegant, careless sprawl on his couch and not so much asking for as demanding everything he desired and now. No please, no thank you. It still made a cold finger slither down his spine at the memory.

Another time, not so much further down the line. The same arrogance, the same attitude, no change in attire this time, but the same cold, careless cruelty. Telling him to get lost, not out of hurt feelings, but because he could.

"It's a good thing he was there, that he could bring you back," he says decisively.

"It was good. I didn't know how good until....I didn't have him to lean on," Clark whispered. "I get so scared...." He didn't realise he'd said the last part aloud. There were too many memories, good and bad, that this talk had brought up.

He wanted to say something, but words weren't coming out.

Lex had obviously triggered something in the younger man as well. Clark looked like he was fighting a loosing battle with himself and before Lex could stop himself, he reached out, across the table and put a hand on Clark's arm, giving firm pressure, just once.

"When my mother died, I," had to overcome the awkwardness himself, "Got scared shitless, because I knew that I'd be left alone with just Lionel to hang around, which means I was as good as on my own."

Part of him was already admonishing him for sounding like Lana Lang, but he had a reason to say this, to make the comparison. "But I wasn't, not completely. I found Bruce to get me through the worst and later, I had you."

Another firm squeeze to the shirt-clad arm under his hand, keeping as much eye-contact as Clark allowed. "I guess what I want to say is, it's ok to be scared, but don't think that you're on your own. You friends will always be there." A flash of a selfdepricating smile, "And you have quite a few to count on."

A rush of guilt came over him. Lex was the last person who should trust him after the past, and he was here, touching his arm.... "Thank you," Clark said. "For reminding me..."

He touched Lex's hand on his arm briefly, but didn't linger, knowing it would be a bad move to do so. "You have friends too, Lex. And they'll be there if you need them, too."

Resisting the urge to scoff, but the way Clark said it, Lex could almost believe. If he let himself, which was not a good idea at the moment. Instead he pulled his hand back and sat back in his chair, giving another nod.

"You're welcome," he said and found another smirk somewhere. After another lapse into silence, "Talking about being there, when should I pick you up tomorrow?"

Not the smoothest change of topic, but damnit he hadn't come here to wallow in misery.

Clark got what Lex was doing, but sadness wasn't his favourite thing to feel either. "What time does the show start?" he asked. "Is there a set time or is it an all day thing, I mean?"

He thinks for a moment. "An hour before the set time if there is one, or ten o'clock if not?"

"These exhibitions usually start around ten in the morning, but it's ok if we arrive fashionably late, because the first hour or two are usually boring with everybody getting settled in and the last minute preparations for the actual show."

He'd been to so many exhibitions, he was sure he could organize one with a arm bound behind his back. Still, the thrill of getting to see the newest model, for the first time and in all its shining glory, just waiting to be bought. Never failed to make him giddy.

"So I'll be at your place around ten and we can take our time getting there," he finished.

"Okay," Clark agreed. "I know what you mean about set-up. Not for such interesting things, usually, but the arriving later part, that I get."

He smiled, and thought Lex looked excited, like he did when he was on the verge of something good for him happening.

"Good," he nodded again, his mind already conjuring images of the sleek, powerful new play toy he might possibly aquire tomorrow.

As he was about to take another sip from his coffee, he was dismayed to find the cup empty, but his eyes fell on the untouched pie instead of going straight for another round at the counter. Picking up a piece on his fork, he brought it into his mouth. Taste on the tongue first, then a careful chew, swallow.

"You're right, this really is nowhere near Martha's standards," he said as he let the fork clatter back onto the plate.

It made him wonder if Martha would faint if he called her after, god was it really 2 years already, just to ask if he could get a piece of her apple pie. Wondered if she'd chew him up and spit him out instead. Motherly, but not soft that woman.

"Not in the least," Clark nodded. "No love, and I don't care what anyone says, my mom puts love in her pies.and it makes them taste better," Clark laughed. "Sound like a hippie, don't I?"

He watched Lex, wondering if he'd smile or laugh, or dismiss him like a kid. All were more than possible.

"And I'm sure she'd love to hear from you," he added.

Lex twitched as if he'd been stung. Clark couldn't possibly have known what he'd just been thinking, could he? There'd been this kid once, Richie, Raymond, he'd been able to tap into other people's minds but surely Clark couldn't do that, could he?

Maybe he was just being ridiculously easily readable and Clark had seen his contemplations on his face, but then he didn't think he was that easily readable anymore. Not anymore. And dammit now he was being off balance and wasting precious time that made it all the harder to convince the other man that he was not paranoid, or onto something, or both.

"Sorry, just imagining you in love-beads and bell bottoms and being utterly horrified," he quipped with a smirk. "And no, I don't think the sentiment is all that ridiculous, it's different if you make something with your own hands or let a machine mass produce it."

Clark's own expression must have mirrored the horror he was feeling at the image. "I guess the bell bottoms were purple?" he joked.

"And....Mom told me the other day she hadn't talked to you in a long time," Clark added. "Your mention of her made me remember and I was sort of hinting, not very subtly, that she would like to hear from you. Maybe I should have just said so..."

He cursed a little, inwardly, that he still sometimes held things back. He hoped knowing it would help him not do it more.

The alarmbells in his head stopped ringing and he was able to release a silent breath of relief, very cautiously. But studying Clark's eyes, this was not an evasion tactic and not a barely thought out excuse, not a lie either and Lex was able to relax a little more.

"Maroon, actually," he answered offhandedly. "And I'll give her a call as soon as I can," 'Or as soon as I can work up the guts to do it anyway,' he thought.

It amazed him on some level that he had no qualms about walking into a boardroom full of strangers, taking the lead and making them heel, but when it came to Martha Kent, for all intents and purposes he was wary of his reception. Ironic, really.

"I think she should really move to the city," he commented more to himself. "She could lease out the farm, find a job here and make it a lot easier on herself."

"I keep telling her that," Clark said, ignoring the bell bottom comment. "There's a part of her that just doesn't want to move. She thinks she's too old to start over, and no matter how many times I tell her she isn't, well....I'm her kid, you know? I think deep down she still thinks of me, at least when it comes to my giving advice, as a child."

He stretched his legs under the table and was almost surprised to bump into Lex's. "But I keep trying."

Lex pulled the leg back under his own chair, trying to suppress the wince of pain. Was Clark wearing steel-toed's? Smiling it off, he contemplated the younger man's comment, trying to find an equivalent in his own mind to understand the situation a little clearer.

Between Lionel and him it had never been about parent and child, it had been about rivalry and trying to defend or respectively overthrow an empire. It was almost anti-climactic how it had finally ended. No big battle, no long drawn out fight, just two bullets to the head. Le roy est mort, vive le roy.

"And there wasn't anyone else who gave her the same advice?"

He'd never thought much about Martha Kent's acquaintences. He knew that she had some kind of history with Nell Porter, but that was about it. Lex wondered for the first time if Martha didn't have friends in Smallville, who'd try to make her see reason for her own good.

"Maybe Mrs Fordman," Clark said, thinking aloud. "She might talk to her. Gabe, too, but he wouldn't be likely to just call her up. Unfortunately," which slipped out before he could stop it, followed by the usual blush. It wasn't that he was trying to matchmake - that would be a disaster - but Chloe's dad had been single for so long and was a nice guy.

"I'll try and think of some other people," Clark added. "I don't really have the numbers for a lot of them, and so many moved away or..." had been affected by the meteors, whether directly or by being int he wrong place at the wrong time when someone else was affected by them.

"I'm sure there's someone I can call who I haven't thought of, though," he said.

Lex cocked his head to the side, wondering why Gabe wouldn't give Martha a call. Surely there could be something arranged. "If you need Gabe's number, I can give it to you," he ventured.

From parent to parent might be a good angle to work it. He should get in touch with Gabe later, let him know. It was a good thing he'd put the man back to work as soon as it had been possible for him to do so. He seemed to enjoy his new job at the LexCorp headquarters and it seemed that Gabriel Sullivan had never been a man of the country anyway, judging by the way he took to being back in the city in less than a heartbeat.

"It'll really be better if she comes to the city and as far as finding a job goes. I'm sure she still has the excellent references from my father and I could always pull a few strings," he mused out loud. "Not that she'd really need that," he added when he realized how that might have come across when dealing with a Kent. He'd learned and learned well.

"That would be great," Clark smiled. "Thanks, Lex. I really appreciate your help."

"And I'm sure the strings would be pulled very quietly - you know my mother too well to make it even a little obvious," he said. "And of course there's Grandpa, but as he's been trying to get her to move back for almost as long as I've been alive...."

Lex's brow rose slowly in question, not even trying to guess where that sentence was going. It was good to know though, that Clark didn't outright decline his offer of help. It was, nice.

When Clark didn't pick up on the inquisitive eyebrow, he decided to give a hint. "Will your grandfather be a problem?"

"Just the opposite,' Clark said. "He will be encouraging her more than I will." He laughed. "I doubt she'll be able to really stand up against the two of us. Not that we'd ever ask her to do something that wasn't for the best..."

Clark sighed. "I just....really wish she didn't have to move. I mean..." he trailed off. "That my dad..."

It was really hard staying patient sometimes. Lex had never been one to go for the slow, stumbling, never finishing half sentences. But this was Clark, and he wasn't brought up like Lex and apparently talking about death was even harder on him than it had been on Lex back when he was a kid. Then again, they were different in character.

When Lillian had died, so shortly after Julian and with everything that had happened, Lex had just plain lost it. He'd ranted, raved, hurt himself, hurt others and lashed out at everything in range. And screaming out that his mother had died hadn't been hard to do in the midst of all that. Later, when he'd found other ways to channel his anger, it wasn't necessary to talk about it anymore. And even later, in Smallville, there had never been hesitance when it came to the fact that his mother was dead.

But, "I understand," he said.

Well, at least he could imagine. In a way, what it must be like to lose someone you love and actually have time and space and well the permission to let the grief hit you.

"The trick is not to think about what if's, because they won't get you anywhere but into a very deep depression. And that way lies madness, trust me, I speak from experience," he muttered.

"I know," Clark said. He remembered that Lex didn't know that part, and didn't resent his not knowing something Clark hadn't shared with anyone. It wasn't only Jonathan's death, but things that he could never share with anyone except his mother, who was lost in her own grief. Losing the only other person who knew it all had been as hard for Clark as losing his father.

"We have to deal with what is, not what might have been or could have been," Clark nodded.

Lex gave him an encouraging smirk, or what he hoped passed for encouragement, anyway. It seemed it was hard work to keep Clark Kent on the bright side of things these days. Like walking a mind field, even more complicated than it had been 3 years ago or when they first met.

Now there wasn't only 'the secret', there was also the 'dead father' and the 'rogue summer', the 'illicit affair' and would life ever get just a little less complicated? He was sure he'd passed that uncomfortable stage when he'd left Smallville behind. It seemed not. Well, at least he had good insurance.

"That's the right way of thinking. And apropos 'what is', I have a meeting in about," he glanced at his watch, "2 hours and a stack of paperwork waiting for me back at my office," he let the sentence end there, waiting for what Clark would do with it.

"Don't you wish some days that that was the extent of your problems?" Clark asked, a little wistfully. "And I guess my equivalent would be a test I didn't study too well for, but had a couple of days to work on." He sighed.

There were so many things that complicated Clark's life, and his secret was only the one he thought of constantly. He thought of Lois, and for a moment wasn't sure if she was complication or distraction or a mixture - probably the last one.

"But you know....the complicated parts are what make life interesting, don't you think?" he smiled, just a little.

Lex chuckled wrily, shaking his head. Only a true martyr could look at it this way. What Lex wouldn't give to have a lot of the complications out of his life. Things would be so much easier, and he'd get to do what he wants, instead of simply the things that needed to be done for a change. But alas, it was not to be and he'd probably be working his ass off for the next, oh say fourty years and retire as a brittle old man when he wasn't able to hold up a stack of a hundred sheet report anymore.

"That is one way to look at it," he commented blandly. "So did you by any chance bring the things you need for that paper?"

"Yeah," Clark said, as he picked up his backpack. He showed Lex the details.

He'd never admit it, but it amused him a little, in an affectionate way, to see Lex looking over his work, like an older brother might.

Lex perused the material, sneering at odd intervals at the mixed up historical facts and pure speculations thrown in for good measure. You'd think on college level, the teachers would get better. Apparently not. The topic fell right in his prefered time table, well the one aside from old Greece and Rome. Pre-Revolution france.

"My library isn't as extensive here, but if you want to, you can go through what I have at the penthouse and see if there's anything you can use to brush up and extend your knowledge," He frowned at a particularly unreadable note in a margin.

"You'll forgive I'm not good at enycrypting dead languages, what's this supposed to mean?"

"Thanks, Lex, I appreciate that. It has to be better than the college library. You'd think for such a big place, it would have books on the subjects it covers...." Clark laughed and looked at the note.

"Um, that was to not forget some food on the way home," Clark answed, laughing more as he realised how very incomprehensible his shorthand was. "With Wally eating everything in sight - and stuff that isn't - grocery shopping is more an hourly activity than a weekly one."

Chuckling, Lex took the notes back, once more trying to find out what each squiggly line had to stand for to make up a message like 'must not forget food'. Shaking it off, he pushed the paperstack back to Clark.

"Ok, what do you say we get going, and you can work on your paper while I cram through another stack of weekly reports?"

It was a better idea than going insane listening to the tick of the clock with only his own presence at any rate. Other than that, he had no idea why he wanted to recreate what a long time ago had been a not unusual occurrence. "And if you're nice, I might even let you have the playstation for an hour."

Ah yeah, bribary still had it's place in his life. That thought led to a mental note to call the officer on his payroll, see if there was any more information on Lionel's murder. He doubted it, but one shouldn't get complacent when faced with a slow time.

"Now that sounds familiar," Clark said, softly, remembering many days like this. "And you have a deal."

He gathered up his papers and put them into his backpack. The feelings of the past continued to play in his mind.

"This is nice," he said, as they stood up to walk out. "Like the old days, almost."

Lex gave a smile and a nod, staying a step ahead of Clark as they walked out and onto the street. Heading for LexCorp Towers, where they'd take the elevator up to the penthouse and Clark would get to see the new interior of his apartment post-explosion for the first time.

"You'll be surprised," was all he said with a mischievous grin as he half turned to look back at Clark.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.