Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Another day in the office, another day faced with one more soft story being tossed onto his desk. Lois got the tough ones, the drug rings, things meant to make a reporter's hair stand on end and generally provide the building blocks of their reputation. What did Clark get? The soft curves. Oh, sure, he got to help Lois with her stories, *sometimes*, but most of the ones that he was given (unless he requested something personally) were soft social stories. Christmas time was that feel-good time of year. And the local section of the paper did one story every week about someone who did good deeds -- that was one a week, every week, starting with the week after the election. That meant seven curveballs for Clark to cover, in and amongst the hectic day to day reporting that he helped Lois with, and his 'duties' as Superman. The week before, he'd interviewed an SPCA director who'd insisted he hold on to one of their rescued ferrets. That had only worked until the ferret had decided he didn't like the way that Clark smelled, and had tried to bite him. And chipped his teeth. Clark guessed he'd never had to lie that fast in his life. 'It bit my watch face' sounded pretty lame, but it worked. After all, who had invincible skin? That ferret had had to bite *something*, so the director seemed willing to accept the watch face excuse.

This next story sounded a little more interesting -- his own idea, fenced to Perry and accepted -- looking at the 'behind the scenes' people at the police department. He hadn't picked the exact angle, but it'd make a pretty nice Thanksgiving story about the people who worked through holidays to serve the public good.

People like Chloe.

Contrary to popular belief, he was able to recognize the warning signals from his female friends about being neglected. A few years of constantly blundering into them and tripping the silent alarms usually clued someone in to impending disaster. One of the reasons he had warmed so quickly to Lois -- in among the hating her part of things -- was that there was very little subtext with her. If he screwed up he knew about it. Constantly, with subtle shades of snark.

For someone as evidently inept as he was at reading the locked room mystery that was 'woman', Lois's responses were a lifeline to the clueless

Chloe, on the other hand, expressed her displeasure in other more subtle ways. Sometimes he decided that he needed 'how to' guides to being her friend. There were at least twenty nine different inflections to the way she said, "Hey, Clark" -- from the 'Good to see you' variant right up to the 'I am going to tear you limb from limb, you ignorant hick!'

He'd been getting close to that version on their last call, and if he wanted to make it to Christmas with all bodily organs intact he had to be a bit of a better friend. It wasn't *his* fault that things never seemed to go right. And heck, she'd been the one to stand *him* up on their last meeting, due to a sudden, unexpected double shift. That had set him on the path he was on now -- going to talk to the four-day a week, ten hour days (sometimes more) night-shifting investigators. There had to be a story in there that he could milk beyond the feel good factor, and if anyone could give a story a human emotive cast, it was Clark Kent.

That was what Clark Kent did, according to all the mushy easy stories that Perry handed him.

But at least this time there was no chance, no chance at all, of Lois wanting to get involved. After all, he had to start at ten p.m., when they started to roll in and that meant screwing with his normal schedule after a near full day of work already, and heading in to the Police Department to do the same again overnight.

Clark looked up as he entered the building, making himself look as unobtrusive as possible. Lois tended to go in guns blazing -- which was why she got the hard hitting byline -- and he went in more softly, which was why even Perry admitted he could turn out a human interest story that had impact in its own right. But they still looked at him as fitting the 'Smallville' nickname Lois had dubbed him with and gave him the stories to suit.

Still, there was always the chance in a place like this that he could find a smush story with some meat on it, that was what he had gambled on. Crime Scene Investigation was one of those classic areas of police work that people had heard of, but they were faceless entities who tended not to get the limelight. He'd heard that from Chloe often enough, so if he pulled this off he might be back in her good books.

He tried to attract attention from one of the busy people milling around the corridors, a little disorientated by the bustling activity even at this time of night. "Excuse me? Excuse me, I'm here to meet with the Head of the Department? He's expecting me?"

The busy person he'd stopped was a tech -- by the look of his lab coat -- but Chloe was always telling him that some days she thought she was a tech too, what with all the swabbing and testing things. So it was hard to guess. He was *bald*, though, and young, with brilliantly sharp blue eyes. And there seemed to be a coffee cup glued to his hand.

Literally.

"Winters? He's in the big office at the end -- you can't miss him."

Clark smiled at him. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he said politely. Nice eyes. Better than nice eyes. Clark had a thing for blue eyes; he'd discovered that in college. "Winters, okay."

Oops, he was staring. Not at the baldness, but at the face and the eyes. There was something just a little familiar about his face. Faintly, in the way it seemed when he met someone after years of not having seen them. Maybe later he'd place it because his memory was close to perfect now, certainly of later things in his life. For the moment, the guy gave a vague wave, a tight smile, and moved off down the hallway.

He'd have to ask Chloe about that. Or at least about the coffee cup. Maybe it was a weird CS reenactment thing.

Winters' office was easy to find; the door was closed, but glass so he could see in to see the guy standing there with a folder in hand, talking with… Chloe. Perfect.

He knocked politely at the door listening just a little ahead of himself with his abilities to see what was really being said before they got to platitudes and politeness. Lois had indeed corrupted him. But he was a man with a gift, and Lois called people who didn't use their talents to the fullest a crying shame.

"Just hold him under threat of muzzle to not say anything that you don't approve first. We can't stop a reporter from talking, but we can threaten their group with never being given another heads up for as long as you work here, sir." Chloe was grinning, but her boss was looking out over her shoulder.

"Is he tall, dark hair, thick glasses? If so, your friend has already arrived."

He took that as a cue to enter. "Hi, Clark Kent from the Daily Planet. Mr. Winters?" He smiled at Chloe and proffered his hand so the Head of Department could shake if he wished.

Winters was a wintry looking guy. White beard, older, but he had keen pale blue eyes. Pretty much everyone Clark had passed so far looked freakishly alert. The paper would do twice the business they did if everyone was that alert on even a single floor. He made a mental note to check out what coffee they were using. And if their caffeine levels were close to overdose.

"Mr. Kent, we were just talking about you. We have a busy day ahead of us, so I hope you don't mind if people work around you or take their time in answering any questions you have."

"Of course not, sir." Clark borrowed a tip from his Dad and automatically addressed the man so obviously senior to him as 'sir'. It was a courtesy that had stood him in good stead in the past. "I would actually prefer that it worked that way -- get a better feel for how things really are here."

"Good. Now, you understand that we're working on some sensitive cases. Most of them, we're still looking for the suspects. Even the faintest detail that you slip could give them an escape, understand? So I'd like to read your article before you put it to your editor. If you don't mind." That last part seemed pretty arbitrarily tacked on. Like it wasn't really a choice for Clark. But the man was still smiling faintly as he stepped back, looking at Clark for an answer while Chloe stood silently by.

Best not to ruin a relationship over a smush piece. "Well, it's not usually how The Daily Planet works sir, but I understand the need for caution. I'm willing to let you see the article for the purposes of reviewing if it might harm any cases you're working on. Hopefully any veto won't be necessary." Clark nodded in agreement.

"Hopefully it won't," Winters agreed, voice smooth, full of implications that Clark was keen enough to catch. There was a lot of gentle threat in the man's words, and whether he meant those threats to be there or not was a good question. "Ms. Sullivan will show you around, since she'd already volunteered back when we started to negotiate this idea between the chief of police and your editor." Another implication there -- that these were important people behind the scenes, and he'd best not hurt any of them.

"So, since she just wrapped up a big case in court today, this is her reward. Chloe..." Winters patted her arm, an almost shooing gesture. "Have fun."

"Thank you for your time, sir," he said politely and moved to follow Chloe wherever she was going to take him. From the looks of it, as far away from the 'boss' as physically possible.

Chloe nodded to him, and moved to push the glass door open. She didn't say a word until they were out in the hallway, and then it was a relieved sounding, "Well, I'm glad that you showed up. I was worried that you'd have to plead off, and leave our department with my cousin. I love Lois, but…" But.
The police and Lois Lane had never gotten along, unless it was like a house on fire -- people panicking, screaming, running for safety.

"... you probably would have been investigating a murder on the premises before the end of the story, I know," Clark replied smiling a little. "I wouldn't plead off -- and miss a chance watching you do your thing for truth and justice?"

"Okay. Clark? It's not just me here. I'm one of many, and I'm a low grade one, too. There are a *lot* of people in this department, and they're all fantastically smart and good at what they do." She grinned at him. "Right now there are two shifts on duty -- we have a two hour overlap at each end of every shift where there's two shifts on. It helps the out-goers finish their work, and the incomings get started. So, let's hit the break room and see who's there."

"Sounds great." And it did, really. It was where people would be the most relaxed and chatty and he could get a feel for the people and the place. He could transcribe any conversation he chose to recall so that wouldn't be a problem. "Anyone you think I should home in on, or am I on my own journalistic instincts here, Chloe?"

"You're on your own, Clark," she grinned again, obviously relishing the fact that her friend was setting foot into her domain. "Because everyone has a story behind them. And maybe some want to share and maybe some don't. so. It's up to you once we get past introductions. On duty with me for this new shift is CSI Klaus, CSI Theresa and CSI Adam. They're all fascinating people, and if you can stop any of them for a second? You'll probably get plenty off of them. Adam's not much of a talker..."

They walked past a glass-windowed lab that had a local radio station's noise coming from within. There was the coffee cup he'd seen earlier glued to the bald guy's hand, but not a guy in sight. "Uh, we've got Kieran, our coroner on duty -- he's fantastic for working out cause of death, intuitive with his work. Chrissie does our prints, Ash tracks down what bits of evidence are made of, Eddie does all the ballistics work, and Lex is our DNA tech. He's been here long enough to be pretty fearless with Winters, and that says something. Uh, let's see. Chrissie is sort of like Lois, Ash can't be described, you've got to meet him, Eddie's Significant Other is a street cop named Nigel, and hey. Our DNA tech is the Luthor Family white sheep."

"Luthor family? As in... LuthorCorp and Lionel, our own personal nemesis?" Clark paused at that one.

"Yeah. Surprise surprise." Chloe's eyebrows went up, and she slowed a little. "Lex is probably the most laid back guy in this place. Bald, too. That's him in there getting coffee." She gestured a little towards the pretty packed looking break room, and then darted forwards to grab the arm of one wiry looking lab tech before he could get out of there. "Hey, hold on, Ash -- you need to meet someone."

"There are easier ways to get my attention. Chloe," the man turned around, favoring his left leg. He looked very young to be in the place and a little bit battered. Clark could discern the evidence of faint scars snaking out from his hairline. He gave Clark an intense, rather disturbing gaze with dark eyes. "Reporter guy?" he queried tilting his head slightly at Chloe.

"Right on the first guess," Chloe grinned as she turned into the break room. "Just sit tight." Then she ducked into the place, and cleared her throat. "We have a reporter on duty with us today, guys -- Winters wants everyone to be helpful and talkative, because this is a PR story. So if each of you can work in a couple of minutes of time for him during the shift..."

One man, a tall thin man with long hair pulled back in a ponytail scowled at Chloe as he moved to leave the break room. "Nothing about cases unless Winters gives word himself. If anyone needs me, I'll be looking over the Pernelli files."

"Don't mind Klaus, he's almost as much a killjoy as Adam here," a young woman who looked to be a similar age to Chloe said, though her rich auburn hair was in direct contrast to her colleague. "You'll be lucky to get a word out of any of them. Theresa Sanders, one of the Investigators -- sorry, gotta go with Klaus tonight. He's senior on this one."

She smiled pleasantly enough at Clark as she moved after the other man, which boded well for comments later on.

"I'll catch up with you later maybe?" Clark suggested to the pair of them.

"Sure." She said it, but Clark wasn't sure if she really meant it as she followed after the gruff, black-haired guy. He seemed like the type who'd seen too many action movies.

"And our Killjoy Adam... is giving me a look of death." Chloe waved. "Hey, I know. I'm either in trouble, or...? Case?"

"Case. Just in," Adam replied giving Clark another one of those assessing gazes. They all seemed to be weighing him up to see how he would stand it in their world and Clark got the impression there would be some surreptitious betting going on in the background, out of sight. "Fresh scene in Suicide slums. Two corpses and cause of death not immediately obvious. Going to be a long night."

"Okay." Chloe sighed, and then smiled at Clark again. "Right. Let me just finish introducing him to the lab people, and maybe, uh, you can talk to them until we get back?"

"In four to five hours," a blond man in a lab coat agreed. "Hi. I'm Eddie, I'm in ballistics. Over there -- Chloe, don't give me that look. Go on, get going. We promise to not eat him alive."

"You promise," Ash muttered a little darkly.

"I'm here to get a story on everything that goes on," Clark said wondering at the odd assembly of characters in this place. Eddie was the one with the Significant Other Nigel. Right. Okay.

He was rather brusquely barged to one side from behind as an older woman with long black hair tied back rather severely and wearing glasses push through the door way in a manner that communicated urgency. "Where's Klaus? Theresa? I've got a match on the Pernelli prints, _finally_ managed to get a clear one off of that last sample. Winters said he was in here?"

"They went that way," the bald guy -- Lex *Luthor*, which Clark wasn't sure he could wrap his mind around -- instructed. "Towards Klaus's office. Good luck." He was pouring sugar in the raw into his coffee cup, and gave Clark a tight smile. After all, Clark was at the tech's mercies, since Adam had dragged Chloe off. "Good luck getting a story on *everything*. You'd need at least two more of you. Eddie, Ash, c'mon -- time to clear out and get to work. You've all got coffee, and if Winters finds us all in here, well."

The older woman nodded curtly and raised her eyebrows at Clark's presence even as he turned and headed off down the corridor as if time was of the essence.

Ash gave a rather sardonic smile. "Lex speaks and we must away to our dungeons. You might as well come down with us... Clark, we all work in the same area and all hell will break loose when the 'Gilbert and Sullivan' team get back in."

"All work, you mean," Lex noted as he moved to leave the break room. "Is there any particular reason why you're doing a story about the investigations team?" Compared to the rest of them, he seemed warm and good natured, which was the last thing Clark expected from a Luthor.

"My editor likes to run something different than most papers. Something positive but with a bit more meat to it," Clark replied easily enough. "And of course I know Chloe and she hints at what goes on here. So when he asked for suggestions, I brought up this. As far as I can tell it's going to open a lot of people's eyes."

"The pay's decent," Eddie offered as he veered a little. "Over here is the ballistics lab. My job title says it all -- I work almost entirely in gun, bullets, explosive impacts and the physics thereof."

"Don't get him started otherwise you'll be looking at his scrapbook of the great impacts and rifling marks of his career," Ash contributed. "Seriously, he keeps a scrapbook of his confirmed convictions based on his ballistics work."

Clark noted that the short wiry lab tech had a sharp way of talking but there didn't seem to be any malice or rancor in his tone, and Lex and Ed seemed to take these sort of comments as normal.

"You say that as if you aren't proud of yourself for ID-ing those plastic shards as a soda bottle-cum-silencer," Lex tossed back lightly. He gestured to another glassy-walled area. The palm of his hand was red, from whatever that adhesive had been from earlier. "Ash's part of the lab is over there, Ed's already catching up on matching bullets to guns, and my lab is over here. There's always something waiting to process. Chrissie's jurisdiction, prints, is right beside ballistics. Guns and fingerprints are a holy union in our line of work. Good luck, Kent."

They all seemed pretty willing to get the hell out of dodge.

"Wait, wait..." Clark hesitated. "Any volunteers to be first? I know you're all busy and I'll try not to get in the way, but I'd rather get the interview part of it out of the way before things get frantic."

Except that he'd been left in the hall pretty much in their dust as they vanished before he finished speaking, and... and just damn. He was going to have to work his reporter's intuition. No one was answering -- there was probably something about causing friction about being a glory-hog already discussed between all of them. Gallantry and journalism didn't mix well.

So. Which one to go for? Ash, well there was a story there, no doubt about it. The man watched the world with sharp eyes and talked about it with whetted edges. Eddie would make for a fascinating study, and the scrapbook? He could see an angle there straight away. Not glory hogging, but a way of finding their own recognition in a world where they were unseen and unsung heroes. That would make a perfect theme for them all. And Lex Luthor -- in terms of story, he was the mother lode.

Maybe it was best to start there. He was likely to get the most busy on any given night, right? After all, most cases *hinged* on DNA, and even the ones that didn't seemed to want it at least as an afterthought. So, start with that.

Lex's lab was pretty comfortable looking, for a lab. That was where the radio station was playing from. He was standing beside his desk, downing a sip of coffee, while a prescription pill bottle sat beside a box of medium-sized latex gloves.

"Mr... uh, Lex," Clark hesitated, feeling a little like he was trespassing in a sanctuary of sorts. The place gave him the same sort of feel as his own loft did back home. It wasn't that other people weren't welcome, just that it was very much _his_ space. "Could you spare me a little time right now?"

Lex turned around with a smile plastered on his face, and palmed the bottle. "Sure. The other tech cut out early, so I'm just waiting for Codis to spit back any possible matches we might have on his swabs. What can I do for you?" In a deft motion, he opened his desk drawer, dropped the bottle in, and then picked up a pair of latex gloves.

"Tell me a little about what you do and who you are," Clark suggested and readied his notebook, mainly for effect. "What makes someone work in this field?"

He exhaled, a puff of breath like people did when they *really* had to think about their answer, and continued pulling his gloves on. "Well, I'm Lex Luthor. In college, I had an overwhelming interest in the sciences, and an urge to help people. This seemed the best field for me. I was one of the top grads from Princeton's Graduate Student department, and then I worked around there in a lab for a while, processing DNA, and eventually worked my way back here."

Clark made some notes, carefully. "You enjoy what you do?"

"Yes. I... really love my job. I've been here for nine years now -- I came here when I was twenty four, and never regretted a minute of it. It can be gruesome sometimes, but... Life is pretty gruesome." He smiled faintly, adjusting his gloves at the base. "Pretending that it isn't doesn't make things better. So I spend my nights and sometimes my days identifying blood, matching it to people, counting alleles, testing semen, hair, toothbrushes, hairbrushes... Hoping that we can both ID a victim and catch whoever hurt them."

He noted the fact about life being gruesome and filed it away. "How does it feel when you do get an ID or something you've done helps bring someone to justice?" Clark had settled near to him, leaning forward with attention. He was still affected by those blue eyes, but he managed to put it out of his mind for the time being.

"It's..." Lex shifted away, towards a fax machine or a printer. Maybe it was both, but Lex moved like he was nervous. "It's a great feeling, to be honest."

Clark grinned at him. "I can imagine. Maybe like getting a story that will really make a difference for a reporter. I mean there has to be a powerful motivation to keep you all going -- it's got to be tough down here sometimes...?"

"Tough... tough is scraping semen off of some little kid's underwear for testing." Lex perched on a side-table, waiting as the printer started to slowly feed a sheet of paper out. "What keeps me going is knowing that I'm helping to put the bad guys away. DNA is king, has been for a while. I can prove a suspect innocent, when his or her blood, or semen, or skin cells don't match what we find on the victim. And it can nail a case tighter than a coffin when we've got a suspect and a positive match on them. Without well-tested DNA, a lot of scum would be out and walking free."

Clark nodded. "Looks like the job goes in for extremes of ups and downs. It must be pretty stressful. Do you do anything to... blow off steam? Relax?"

Lex caught the sheet of paper as it came out of the printer, hovering and waiting for the second one. "I, uh..." He glanced over the results, looking contemplative. "I run a charity and help with a couple of others. Between that and my LEGO collection, I have my hands full."

"Yeah? Which charities?" Jackpot! Clark smiled at the other man warmly. "I love LEGO, but I never really collected it. Got some old stuff back at home."

"I buy sets to take apart and make into things," he grinned a little, faintly lopsided. "Can I get a plug in for them, maybe? With Christmas coming up, people are usually better donators..."

"Absolutely," Clark agreed enthusiastically. "Tell me about the charities, what they're about and why you're involved?"

Now Lex seemed to light up. Maybe Chloe was right -- maybe the Luthor Family had a white sheep. Or else, Lex Luthor was one hell of a good decoy. "I started the Lillian Luthor Children's Foundation nine years ago. A lot of the donations come from people who donate a dollar for a paper balloon at grocery stores and shops around the state. Usually I personally ask places if they'll help, and seldom does a store say no. The money goes towards kids who're kicking around the foster care system, and what we call 'individual cases' usually brought to our attention by social workers or child protective services. Also, we work to try to get runaways off of the streets and into better situations -- youth homes, group centers, job training, the necessities to keep them off of drugs and away from selling their bodies." He looked at the second sheet of paper, and took another sip of his coffee. "I also help fundraise for the Metropolis Woman's Haven. That's a safe place for people running away from their abusive husbands -- whether they have kids with them or not. The Haven offers job training, starter money, and counseling. And... last year Bruce Wayne talked me into going halves on an Orphanage. It's a long story, but he runs it and I once again organize fundraising and oversee the general mission from time to time."

"Bruce Wayne of Gotham?" Clark asked, sensing a way to approach the obvious question. "So, you haven't given up all ties with the business world?"

"Actually, I went to school with him. It goes back to that -- he was orphaned, and I have a soft spot for kids. A guy's allowed to have rich friends, right?" Lex regarded him with a suddenly keen expression, and one cocked eyebrow. "The only ties I have to the business world are my stock investments. Yes, I still have LuthorCorp stock, and a voting share -- everyone asks that one, so I'm saving you the time of asking it. I use the money I get off of it for the charities."

Clark looked at him steadily, meeting that shift in expression with the sort of honesty that people probably didn't expect from reporters. "Asking about that part of things is something I have to do, Lex. I don't mean to offend you in any way." He meant that. He cleared his throat. "If I push too far just say so, okay? Is there a reason that you chose the career you have now over the more obvious opportunities that were available to you?"

"I don't like my family's business, and to be frank, it doesn't come to me naturally." Lex lifted his eyebrows a little, waiting for a third sheet of paper. "I actually had a turning point in my life. My father had sent me to, ah, Smallville, and I had an accident. My car hit some road debris, and I crashed through the guardrail. A local farmer stopped his truck and jumped in after me. The next thing I knew, my car was in the river, and this guy... Jonathan, I didn't even find out his last name." A faint laugh. "Anyway, this guy is standing over me on the river bank. He'd dragged me out, and gave me CPR, and waited until the paramedics came around."

Clark was staring at him a moment, his distracted pressure on his pen cracking the casing. "You're kidding right? Tall guy with sort of sandy blond hair, blue eyes, probably wearing a plaid shirt?"

Lex moved away from the printer, expression curious as he looked at Clark. "Blue-based plaid, had a red truck. He saved my life, took the time to talk to me... The guy made a difference in my life. I went back to college, finished my degree, and... here I am."

"That's my Dad," Clark blurted out with his own surprise. "Jonathan Kent -- I come from Smallville. I remember him telling Mom and I about that when he got back in. That's... talk about the proverbial small world. And talking to him made a difference to you? Motivated you to... what? Not go where your father would send you?"

"Look... I was at a low point in my life. Really low. Rock bottom. All I really needed was for someone, just *one* person, to tell me that I should do what *I* wanted to do. It was as simple as that." Lex's eyebrows were drawn together a little. "Could I maybe get your parent's address? I never really got a chance to thank him. The paramedics came, and that was that."

Clark nodded. "Sure. He'd love to talk to you again, I'm sure. How about I arrange for you to come to dinner some weekend? Or... some time when you have time off?"

The offer came naturally to him, in the same sort of way that his mother and father had found a young boy at the side of the road and made him their son, or any waif or stray got at the very least a hot meal at the Kent household.

Which reminded him, he ought to look in on Bart soon, see how he was getting on now he was following suit with the costumed heroics.

"Sure. Sometime. I should've put two and two together. Chloe's always telling stories about 'back in Smallville'." The papers were set on his desk, and he moved to a stand of what looked like thin wooden sticks with red plastic cylinders on all of them. "And she's mentioned you a couple of times. You work with her cousin, right?"

"Lois Lane, yeah," Clark nodded watching him carefully. "She's got the Metropolis touch though, when it comes to stories. I'm more of a people person."

And he could tell that Lex had lost some of his natural wariness around him, which was good. Clark liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and it didn't seem fair to judge Lex on the Luthor name. He cleared his throat. "That must have taken a lot of courage to do all that?"

Lex was starting to move pipettes around, setting up tubes for testing in a mechanical sort of way. Then again, he'd been doing it at least four days a week, for nine years. It probably came pretty automatically to him by now. "To do all what?"

"To turn your life around and basically walk away from family pressures?" Clark prompted.

"I had to reevaluate what I needed in life. And when I thought about it... I didn't need my father. And he didn't really need to keep me around. He pulled Lucas out of the woodwork once I left. I had money that had been left to me when my mother died, and all of her stock shares along with the ones I gained when I turned 18. I sold my car collection, invested the money. Once I'd consolidated things, I realized that I could do anything I wanted without relying on anyone. It wasn't that hard to walk away." His head was tipped down, adding solution to four tubes.

"And you chose this, and the charities," Clark half stated and then could see from the way the man was backing away in his body language if he pushed too hard at this angle he would lose the story. "Tell me about the others here, the people you work with and how it works?"

"How it works? You mean the department, or...?" He looked up, blue eyes bright while he reached for another sample.

"Anything you want to tell me. About how your specialty works, about how things link together. Chloe told me that you're one of the most senior here," Clark replied. "I expect you know pretty much something about everything right?"

"Mmhm. When it comes to it, I can stand in for anyone on their days off or if one area is flooded by a case..." He went quiet, but not in a way that discouraged Clark. It was concentration as he drew fluids out of one tube. "I'm not sure how to explain it. I run DNA, and get tox reports back, ID chemicals in people's bloodstreams. With that information and with the information that comes from Ash over in trace, and Chrissie in prints, the investigators... Think of it like a giant puzzle. The puzzle is in the evidence. All of us read it, interpret it, but the Investigators give it context. They find the pieces and put it together, while the rest of us define those pieces."

Clark nodded. "That's a good analogy. So you need all the departments to make a case, not just one person. What do you think that the public think or know about the CSI labs?"

"I know that when paperwork's been filled out wrong by the police department, we're always the first one to get the blame," Lex drawled. "If someone takes a cheek swab without a warrant or probable cause gets dismissed -- this goes for any bit of evidence -- we get the blame. The victims, their families, turn on us faster than you can turn on a light bulb."

"That must make keeping motivation difficult?" Clark asked. He could understand the truth in what was being said. Chloe had talked of the frustration of 'technicalities' often enough.

"It should, but it doesn't. They've been hurt, and they want justice. People lash out at the most convenient person available, and why not the criminal investigation department? They handled the evidence that's now inadmissible in court. Some of us..." He paused, moving liquids around that Clark wasn't sure what they were. "Handle it better than others. Ash understands, but trace doesn't usually come under fire. It's DNA, prints, or the investigators themselves."

"Perfection is a very difficult standard to live up to," Clark nodded. "Has it ever got to the point where you've felt like it's too much?"

"It's rough some days, but it's never... too much." He looked up again, faintly smiling. "After all, I do good work with swabs, and vials and samples. I know that I wouldn't be able to handle field work."

"No?" Clark queried tilting his head just a little. "Why not?"

"I... have some quirks." He smiled again, moving to another tube. "Actually, I'm pretty neurotic. I just wouldn't be able to do it."

"I'm guessing that a lot of the staff here would say the same," Clark smiled. "I have to ask, it's been bugging me, what was the deal with the coffee cup earlier?"

That brought the oddest grin to Lex's mouth. "Winters had a theory to test, about how many liquid ounces a plain coffee mug could hold if adhered to someone's hand with a specific type of epoxy. You can get ten ounces in before the epoxy pulls off skin cells, and it's dissolvable with commercial grade acetone."

"I'm assuming that wasn't just for fun," Clark shook his head still smiling. "You volunteered for that?"

"Sure. Why not? The vic was right handed, and I'm not." He lifted his left hand, holding one of those pipettes. "Most of us are pretty willing to help with experiments that could help a case."

"On the principle of if it helps it's worth it," Clark surmised. "Whose job wouldn't you want around here?"

"Field agent," Lex reiterated. "They go onto a scene when the blood spatter's fresh, diagram it, probe the wounds. They're the ones that find the headless bodies, the brutalized kids. I couldn't do that."

"They get a lot of burn out?" Clark worried fleetingly about Chloe. He'd tried hard to protect her in Smallville -- to the extent of a lot of unknown and unknowable risks and near death encounters. And yet, here she was staring at death every day, like all of them did here.

That was a fantastic concept for the article. People got medals in the military for doing less. He could easily draw comparisons that made the heroism evident without trowelling on the sentimentality.

"Plenty of it. Everyone has cases they can't handle. Winters doesn't do wife-battery cases, because he can't approach them with a clear head. He passes those on. Klaus goes weird on cases with dead animals... So on and so forth."

"And yours is... children?" Clark queried carefully.

"Yeah." A faint tightness crept into his smile.

Clark nodded. "I can understand that. I have a younger sister, Lara. I was adopted, and Mom and Dad were basically told they would never have children. And then... well it was a bit of a miracle. I don't know if I could be impartial about anything that happened to her." He glanced at his watch. "Oops, I better think about going around some of the others, I've been letting time carry me away here."

"Well, you have good timing, since I have some results to deliver to Klaus..." He smiled, and dropped a few tubes into the centrifuge. "You have a good day, Clark."

"You too, Lex," Clark nodded getting up. "I'll let you know about that dinner okay? I won't forget."

His eyebrows went up a little, and he nodded -- it was an odd nod, almost nervous. "Sure. You know where to find me."

"Yeah." Another smile and Clark said, "Thanks for your help. I hope the article pulls in some extra support for your charities too."

"I hope so, too. Every little bit counts." He grinned again, just a flash of teeth, and went back to dealing with his test tubes. Clark stored up one long glance at him as he turned to head to the trace lab and Ash. Beautiful eyes. Just... beautiful.

It had almost been a relief when Clark Kent went out on a call with Chloe and Adam. Then he'd understand the other side of the equation.

Lex wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, he seemed like a nice guy. And apparently his Dad was *that* Jonathan. On the other hand, he was a reporter, and Lex had learned early about detesting the press. They blew things out of proportion, ignored other things, fostered their own brand of social injustice, and gave the occasionally glory-hound killer his thrills.

What he was sure of was that his head was hurting, and there'd been a lot to process through. It was time for another cup of coffee to counteract his medication.

It looked like the others had emerged from their grilling with much the same thought in mind. Ash was already sitting down drinking his usual hot chocolate as opposed to mainlining the coffee everyone else had. Chrissie had sat down, looking tired and having obviously pushed through all the breaks to get her work done so Adam and Chloe could be released on the second case. There would be a short breather and then the work would filter down to them.

It always worked that way. If they'd caught up, there was a lull until the next rush, speed, immediately needed pieces of evidence came in. Up and down, up and down, the whole shift, but Lex liked it. Or maybe he was just used to it.

Lex set down his coffee cup, which had a Tetris design printed onto it, and picked up the pot with a sigh. "Ten cases down so far, and we're... five hours in?"

"And most of us lightly grilled by the reporter guy," Ash said staring into space a little. "Ed'll be here in a moment, he was just doing some impact simulations. I wonder how he got on?"

Chrissie sniffed as she cradled her black coffee. "He was polite, I'll give him that. And interested. Surprisingly interested."

"He was interested all right," Lex sighed, peering down into the pot before he poured his cup. At least it wasn't Maxwell House. Folgers tended to have more taste and be more drinkable. "I'm not sure what to think. His intentions seemed good."

"Pour one for me, Lex?" a new voice called out. "As all the investigators have flown the coop, I guess I get a moment to myself before I have to face the two new bodies the night has brought me."

Kieran put his files on the side and sat as wearily as the other even though he was smiling at them all. "So, whose intentions seemed good, what have I missed?"

"We've had a reporter shadowing all of us today -- why don't you come in and join the nitpick party," Lex offered, grinning a little as he got the sugar out, and one of the 'spare' mugs. Most of the mugs were spare, except for Lex's favorite and the cobalt glass one that Eddie drank out of.

"A reporter, hey? Somehow I am not surprised he hasn't made it to my realm of wonder yet," Kieran said. "Too much blood and guts. So, give me a clue? What's the angle? How did we end up with a reporter marauding around the lab, and where is he now?"

"He's tagging along with a DB case Adam and Chloe are out on. Human, found in a dumpster," Chrissie supplied.

"That'll be enough blood and guts for him," Lex grimaced a little as he added more sugar. "Well. It seemed like his angle was to do an upbeat story on us."

"In this place?" Ash snorted a little. "When we're the scapegoats of the criminal justice system?"

"Not always," Kieran pointed out. "We win plenty."

"For a man that spends his working life up to his elbows in death, you can be amazingly upbeat," Ash replied sardonically.

Kieran shrugged. "You become that intimate with death, life looks pretty good." Of course it could easily go the other way, but Kieran seemed to have the knack of never losing that warmth and openness despite the daily diet of horror his work served up.

It made Lex smile, just a little as he offered the man his cup of coffee. "Quite. That's why I keep coming in to work every day. The guy gave me the usual 'Luthor' shakedown, but moved on pretty quickly, so. Who knows what he'll manage, looking at this place with a new point of view."

"Reporters never do anyone any favors except themselves," Ash muttered swirling his drink.

"Just because you've never met a nice one doesn't mean that they don't exist," Chrissie said leaning back with an audible sigh. "He's got a good eye for detail, that one. Spotted a partial match before the computer highlighted it. He came across softly, but didn't miss a thing."

"Are you talking about the reporter? Kent?" Eddie grinned a little as he ducked in. "Cool guy. He really liked all the calibration equipment I have in there. Hey, Kieran. How's the morgue today?"

"Quiet," Kieran said in a stock answer, "Unless you mean in terms of work."

Ash twisted a half grin. "I thought you'd get on with him. Should I be telling Nigel about his appreciation of your calibration equipment?"

The blond ballistic tech scowled at Ash, and grabbed the coffee pot. "Everything is innuendo for you, isn't it?"

Lex moved back, stirring sugar into his mug, and fell back to sit beside Chrissie for the moment, watching them, quiet for the moment. He usually was the awake, boisterous one in the lab. It was one of those nights when too much coffee would make his stomach funny, but he needed to stay alert -- halfway through the shift, after all. He'd make it, even if talking with the reporter had thrown him off a little. Jonathan... Kent, then? Jonathan Kent, since Clark was a Kent, and he seemed the sort of have a nuclear family. Adopted, too. It sounded like an interesting familial set up.

"I'm just saying that if our Chloe is holding a torch for that one, he'd likely borrow it to look at a man's ass," Ash grinned.

Kieran raised his eyebrows and for some reason glanced over at Lex carefully. "Ah, *Chloe's* reporter friend, not her cousin? The one she describes as the essence of small town America? Does he live up to the stories?"

Probably because Lex had a knack for judging people's characters -- he'd developed it out of necessity, used it in day to day life, applied it to *everything*. "He seems to," Lex told him, giving Ash a look. "He came off as very genuine, and if he's anything like his father, then Chloe wasn't exaggerating."

"Wait, wait, how did his father come into this?" Ash asked, holding that look for a moment. He shrank back just a little as if the direct attention had been threatening in some way. "Never mind."

"No, I'm interested as well," Kieran asked. "You know his father, Lex?"

"It came up in, ah, conversation -- I was telling him about the man who jumped in after me that time I drove off a bridge... that was his dad. He's still alive, too, which is nice to know." Because he really wanted to thank him. Properly, maybe a little desperately. He needed to try to make the depth of his appreciation known, let the man know how much of a difference he'd made in Lex's life. If Jonathan hadn't jumped in, he'd be dead. If he hadn't stopped to talk afterwards, he guessed that he might as well be dead.

Chrissie sat up a little. "His father was the mysterious plaid-clad savior?"

"At least we'll be able to call him something better than the Plaid-Clad Savior," Kieran commented smiling. "So you finally know? That's great!"

There was a reason why he loved his coworkers. He didn't tell them *much* about himself, but what he said definitely stayed remembered. "Yup. I hope to get in contact with Mr. Kent and really thank him some time. It's great that I have the opportunity. It's... really a small world."

"Or it could be that good deeds have a habit of making themselves known," Kieran said sagely, and then ducked as Ash batted at him. "What?"

"You've got to stop snacking on the fortune cookies before work, Kier," the normally irascible trace technician told him.

"Chinese food is the best place to get food this late at night," Lex winked as he got to his feet. "Okay. You guys keep chewing in here. I have some things to run through Codis."

"Any clue on when Adam and Chloe might get back in?" Kieran said getting up as well. "Otherwise I'll dump this on Winters to pass on when they report in. I won't get whoever they bring in back done tonight, that's for sure, though the cause of death on these new two, is going to be contaminated meth or heroin, I can feel it. I'll have a tox sample for you later Lex."

"Great. Do they have names?" Lex asked while he moved towards the door. Overdose blood was fun to run through the paces, and it didn't make him think much. OD meant self infliction.

"Sheridan Hawkins and Renee Goulding," Kieran exhaled. "Experimenting with the harder stuff, I'll bet you. A dare, something forbidden and... exciting. And ultimately deadly." He was most likely right; he had an uncanny way sometimes of putting himself in the shoes of the deceased. Sometimes to the point where his famed resilience would crack.

Lex curled both hands around his mug as he moved out into the hallway beside Kieran. "That's how things go. I'll try and verify that for you, Kieran -- see you around." It was easier for him to slip back to his lab, crank his admittedly questionable choice of music a little louder, and settle in for bad pop-techno dance remixes and tox reports.

"Lex?" Kieran said in a low voice just as he was about to leave him "You are okay? With all this reporter stuff?" He looked a little worried for him.

That was nice, too, Lex decided. For a bunch of brash, married to their work people, they were nice. He stopped walking away quite so quickly, lingering where he was standing for just a moment. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Worry is what I do," Kieran smiled at him, looking him over with his dark eyes. "Just thought it might have stirred up some... stuff."

The man got a tight smile for his trouble. "No. Not really. It just got me thinking. You have a good night, Kieran, and thanks."

The coroner nodded. "You know where I am," the man said. "And if you don't find me, you know I'll find you." He smiled again and then headed off up the corridor towards Winters office as if no private words had been exchanged.

Just like that. He was a good guy. Most of the people in the lab were on Lex's list of good guys.

Most people didn't have actual mental lists, but Lex wasn't most people. Lex liked to meander through his day to day, working, doing good things because it was the best way that he could help. Processing DNA was the way he was best suited to it. Simple as that.

Clark was a good guy, too, Lex guessed, but he'd asked a lot of questions and Lex had already had a touch of a headache when he'd rolled into work.

It would be interesting to see how he had faired out in the field with two of the investigators. Who should be due in at any moment. He should be back ready for them because dumpster bodies almost always were foul play of some description.

It wasn't very often that people crawled into dumpsters all by themselves, wrapped themselves up in some sort of bag, and killed themselves, after all. Not that it *hadn't* happened in the nine years that he'd seen, but. He just wasn't ready to consider that a standard for dumpster bodies.

As he settled back into his office and set Codis running again, pleased at what he had accomplished despite the additional task of a reporter interview, he noticed the sounds increasing in the corridor.
Ah, there they were, right on time.

Any minute now... blood, swabs, everything was going to come pouring down on him. Just predictably, Chloe stuck her head into Lex's office.

"Hey, Lex? We've got incoming. Swabs, and Adam has some hair. Vic was a girl, aged seven to ten, so we'll be looking to see if we can get any hits on the other DNA we've found at the scene so far. We're going to try to ID her and work from there, but..."

Girl. Young girl, dumped in a dumpster. Lex swallowed his coffee, and got to his feet to meet Adam. "It'll go to the top of my pile."

The tall man moved past her into the room, even as he could see Clark loitering in the background. He looked pale, and his eyes rather bizarrely looked bluer than they did before, which had to be a trick of the light. He had been sure they were green when they were speaking in the lab.

"No obvious identifiers," Adam said as he put down the samples. "We're going to be relying on the autopsy and DNA on this one. Preliminaries indicate she was left for dead but managed to crawl half out before dying. There are scratch marks on the underside of the dumpster lid which will probably match to her fingers."

He was brittle and sharp with the news and watching Lex closely. All of the team knew about Lex's issue.

They didn't know why, but. They knew enough, they knew he hated those cases, they knew it broke his heart. They didn't need to know the rest. "She might have their epithelials under her nails, too. Whoever... whoever did that to her." He swiped up the samples, and turned away, laying them out methodically before he opened the tiny plastic bags to take the samples out. A short dark hair with a skin tag -- fantastic. Lex needed to concentrate on that, the fact that they had one of them right there in that skin tag.

"She's with Kieran now, but he won't be able to do anything until tomorrow. He's got our first two of the shift in there to process and I think Yorenson left him something to clean up from the multiple yesterday." Adam's lips thinned as if he didn't approve of leaving things undone.

"Roberts could process her when she comes in," Lex suggested as he slipped the hair into a vial. He looked over his shoulder again and... there was Clark still, out in the hallway. Watching. He could've sworn that the man's eyes were green.

"No. Klaus and Theresa have been out as well," Adam replied folding his arms. "Winters said Roberts will be doing theirs. She'll be priority next shift, but until then, that puts you as our source for leads. Winters decided Kieran should take it." Which meant it wasn't a good one at all, and there was a reason for the man's grimness.

Lex exhaled quietly. "Right. I'll be back to you once I run all of this, then." The moment that they left him alone, he'd be okay. He could process it all, fast, instead of distractedly moving, making sure he was doing things right.

Adam nodded, curtly, professionally and turned away moving past his colleague and Clark to get back to his office. There was the sensation of someone watching him though, if only for a moment and a glance up showed that Clark's eyes -- which can't have been that blue after all as they were sort of blue-green in this light were focused on him for a long thoughtful moment.

Lex gave him a faint smile, and moved to get back to his work. And soon he wasn't being watched by Clark anymore because Chloe had grabbed Clark's arm to lead him off. Somewhere.

And that was for the best, because he... just had a feeling, a twinge of intuition as he got around to running the samples through the machine. They had a sperm sample swabbed, and the hair, and the victim's blood. He almost didn't want to see what it came back as, and usually he was chomping at the bit.

But the printer fed him the facts after all of his hard work. Unknown female blood, unknown female hair -- both the girl's, because they matched. The hair was from her head, waving sandy blonde hair with a lot of kink in it. Then the dark hair, and the semen swab, and...

Lex's stomach leapt up into his throat as he looked at the results.

He had a DNA match. So often they never got a match but this time it came up with an alert and he paled a little reading the name.

Dominic Senatori

He knew that name. It was truthful to say that he knew that name intimately, and that made this case shift suddenly from merely difficult to almost unbearable.

He... he remembered a lot. A lot that he tried to not think about -- to the point that he avoided normal day to day things just to keep from thinking. that was how Lex had made his life bearable. He couldn't stand the smell of certain types of candy. He didn't eat in restaurants. He didn't take people home with him and he didn't go home with people. He always *drove* his own car, never hitched a ride. The radio was always on, because he hated the noises that his mind seemed to pour into silent spaces. There were a million tiny, explicit rules that ran his life, just so he could give himself the illusion of safety.

And there was a semen match from a young girl's body, with Dominic's name on it. It was bad enough that the man was his father's right hand, but...

Lex swallowed as he scanned further down the sheet, and then had to set it down as he dove for the trash can. He was going to be sick. He was going to throw up every bit of food he'd ever eaten.

The hair wasn't human. Part of the semen sample wasn't human. It was dog.

It was rather difficult to notice someone coming in the door when you were in the process of heaving your guts up. The first Lex knew that there was anyone there was the presence of a warm hand on the small of his back, steadying him. "You okay?"

He jerked sharply, pulling away from the hand -- and closer to the trash can -- lifting his head sharply. "Jesus fucking God, don't scare me like that! Oh God..." He dropped his head back down over the trash can, another wave of nausea hitting him. That poor girl. Fucked by a dog, by *Dominic*, left for dead. Dead.

"Sorry.... sorry," Clark apologized backing off a little. "You okay? You need a drink of water or something? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He'd seen a ghost. Or a shadow, but it was just memories inside of his mind. Things he couldn't shake off. Lex had been where that girl had been, but he was alive. That she... wasn't shook him to the core. That it was still going on was worse, made his skin crawl. Another wave hit him, but just bile came up. "Could you... g-get a Sprite from the vending machine? I..." He swallowed, trying to keep himself from gagging, from shaking too hard.

"Sure," Clark replied in a soft voice sounding concerned. "Be right back."

At least it meant he had a few moments to try and get himself together. Though why he thought he could get himself together in a few moments when he hadn't managed it in most of his life, he didn't know. He was a professional. He could do this. No matter what else, he could do this not in spite of what had happened, but because of it.

They had... proof, hard proof. It could end, and he'd never been able to do it himself. No more pain. No more innocents being hurt, at least not by *those* people. It... that was the reason why he loved his job. Putting scum away.

So why wouldn't his hands stop shaking as he sat on the floor? Lex wiping at his mouth with his gloves before he peeled them off and dropped them into the can. Vomit probably wasn't supposed to smell like it was almost entirely coffee. And ice-cream never tasted as good coming up as it had going down. The same with fish sticks.

There were footsteps coming back. The reporter -- he was bound to ask. It would be enough just to say the general details overwhelmed him. It would horrify anyone. He took a few shuddering breaths as the tall reporter came in and crouched down next to him proffering the can, still vending machine chilled.

"Here we go," Clark said, still with that strange concern in his voice. He wasn't used to that. He could count on one hand the people who had shown concern about him and most of those were people he worked with.

After a few years, you sort of had to care about your coworkers, and if you didn't, you were probably some sort of heartless bastard. Lex swallowed, reaching for the can. Still sealed, good. His hands were shaking, so it took a couple of tries to pop it, and then he swallowed a gulp. A little fizzy, but it was fine. Just what he needed. "Thanks."

"No problem," Clark replied still watching him. "You ill, or... do you want me to get someone?"

"No, I... We've got a match," Lex explained shakily, still not getting up from the floor. "He's on my dad's board of, of directors, I... Can you run and get Adam?"

"Sure," Clark nodded. "I can see why that's a shock to you. I'll go tell them, you just... take a moment."

He looked awkward and unsure as he got back up, "Won't be long."

"Sure." Lex took another sip of his soda, swirling it and listening to the fizzing of bubbles. Then he finally got to his feet, and meandered over to his desk. It was really hard to breathe, and he was glad that he was alone in the lab for the moment. Just a couple more of his pills -- it'd take him up to half of his twenty-four hour dose allowance, but he needed to stop shaking, needed to pull himself together. It didn't matter that it would take a little while to kick in, because it wasn't like the workday was over yet.

It wasn't so strange. He'd seen Chrissie hopped up on caffeine doses after pulling a near twenty-four hour stretch after one of the big multiples. They'd all been a bit crazy then. Him with his 'chill-pills', Chrissie popping stimulants, Ash going into a panic attack when a stressed authority figure came at him in _just_ the wrong way. Theresa disappearing into the rest room for over thirty minutes and Winters eventually having to go after her. Ed locking the door and just doing impact tests that weren't strictly necessary...

They all had their issues.

They all had problems and coped with them. He wasn't any different from the rest of them. He...

Lex exhaled slowly, concentrating to keep from hyperventilating as he fumbled open his desk drawer. He got the bottle out, now there was just the challenge of opening it. Damned childproof bottles.

He had only just managed to down the pill and sit back in his chair a little unsteadily when he heard people approaching. He could see Adam striding down the corridor, with the blonde shock of hair that was Chloe following closely behind him, shadowed by Clark Kent their official tag-along.

"Kent says you've got a name?" Adam said with no further ado. No one was really entirely sure what Adam's issues were, only that they were as dense and impenetrable as a black hole and whereas news like this might turn Lex into a shaking heap, it always seemed that the investigator's reaction would be to go on some sort of homicidal rampage. Not that he had, but there was a sense of barely concealed rage about him in some of the cases.

"Yeah. I..." Knew the guy. Jesus, avoided him like the black plague, hated him. Hated the thought of him doing anything to anyone. "We've got a hit. Dominic Senatori. And a d-dog."

He could hear a faint sound of reaction from Clark and a breathed out exclamation of "Jesus..." from Chloe. The stillness that descended over Adam showed, in his own unique way that he was shaken by the revelation.

"This is going to be huge," Adam said finally and deliberately. "We need to go and see Winters now. There's a possibility if we do this right we can get a link into the whole ring. Someone slipped up with this vic because this sort of thing is usually professionally managed. I think we can expect there to be some frantic attempts to clear up. We need that dumpster staked out... and... Lex, you able to walk?"

It was a stupid question, as far as Lex saw it -- he was leaning against his desk, a can of sprite in hand. He'd thrown up, not sawed his legs off. "Yeah."

"Come on then. Bring the hard copy," Adam instructed. "You, too, Kent. Especially you. We can't afford any of this to leak out before we are ready."

"I wouldn't compromise an investigation," Clark protested. "But you can't deny me a shot at this story!"

Adam turned and glared at him. "This is not a _story_ Kent, this was a _life_. A young girl who was assaulted and murdered simply because whoever it was had power and she didn't! And the wrong word or even a silence in the wrong place and they can do it again. You don't understand that. No one understands that except for the people who work here, facing it every day!"

Chloe's expression was tense, but she quietly cut in, "C'mon, Clark."

Lex tracked back to the printer, still swirling his sprite, then moved to follow Adam out. "I'm not sure if I can work this case. Dominic... is on the LuthorCorp board of, of directors."

"We'll see what Winters says," Adam replied simmering down a little from that out burst. "You are the best DNA tech we have Lex."

Lex drew in a faint breath, just nodding. Sure. Best DNA tech. He just... He couldn't *say* it. Not after Adam's comment about a silence in the wrong place. He was a walking silence, because he couldn't live any other way. And Adam wouldn't understand it, no one would unless they'd been there. You didn't tell people. You just... just...

Lex wasn't sure. He was tired, and wanted his stomach to settle down, and the case to move fast. Jesus. Dominic Senatori.

A delegation to Winters office, while not an unusual thing in itself, certainly tweaked people's attention. They were watched as they made their way there and they walked in a grim silence until Adam knocked on the door. "Sir? We have a break."

Lex was usually upbeat when he gave results. But not this time, no. His Diazepam hadn't kicked in yet, and his stomach was still threatening to lurch. "I ran the samples through, and checked them against Codis. The blood in the bag and the hair you pulled from the girl were a match -- none of the perp's blood was in it. Ah, the short black hair you gave me is dog hair. The seminal fluids were a mix of dog and... one Dominic Senatori."

Winters looked up at them from where he was sitting behind his desk. "Shut the door." It was an illusion of privacy as no doubt the whole team would know shortly.

"Senatori of LuthorCorp?" He glanced sharply at Lex.

The four of them moved in, and Lex offered the papers out to Winters. "Yes." He didn't need sharp looks just then. He felt a certain sense of fragility building in him, that he hoped didn't show.

"He slipped the net... a year or so ago if memory serves," Winters frowned looking over the data. "Adam, Chloe what are the odds on this being an isolated incident in your considered opinion? Is this going to be a surgical removal of this one individual or is it connected to any of our other unsolved cases?"

"We'll have to review files," Chloe decided, her mouth a thoughtful but hard line as she answered him. "But I think we might want to run some of the 'unknown' samples from older cases through Codis to see if they match him now. I mean, he's in the system from that case a year ago. That doesn't mean that this is a first time."

Lex slipped his hands into his lab coat's pockets. "Winters, can I have a word with you?"

Winters nodded to him. "In a moment, Lex."

Adam glanced at Chloe and then rather suspiciously at Clark who was trying to stay in the back ground. "We'll do some cross referencing. There might be some profiles that fit, and this is only the preliminaries. Kieran will give us more tomorrow... as long as Mr. Kent here doesn't blow the case for us."

Winters nodded. "Stay on it, the pair of you. Keep me informed. Mr. Kent, I need to have a word with you about this. I'm sure you can see what sort of level we are working at here. I need assurances."

Clark had been thinking rapidly in the short walk up the hall. "I'll give those assurances, sir, if I can follow this case."

Follow the case. Lex's jaw went a little tight, but he was going to stay quiet for the moment. Let Winters and Clark hash it out. All reporters had that inexplicable base interest in their 'Story', and he couldn't quite fault the guy for that. Too much.

"It'll make it into the papers somehow," Chloe offered Winters. "Lois could get hold of it..."

"And how will that necessarily be any worse than him working it?" Winters asked, his skepticism barely concealed.

Clark leaned on the edge of the desk. "With respect sir, I'll let you judge that when I submit the original article for your approval before the end of this shift. I have enough material to do it now, and frankly? We can help you on this. I think we could have a good working relationship."

"You'll have to prove that," Winters told him simply, "Adam, get on that. Chloe, pull the old cases and start to look through them. Lex will be out to rerun the samples through Codis in a few minutes."

Clark nodded as if he expected nothing else. It would be tight to deal with that article so quickly, but the idea was in his head, and he could type and revise at a speed that most reporters couldn't. If he started soon, he could get it done and then would even have time for trawling for back up data and phone calls on the charities and the other background details he had found. This article was going to *gleam* it would be so polished. They wanted a PR job, well, he would give them one fashioned out of the truth with all the emotional impact that he could muster. He was at that 'moment of truth' break that Lois had experienced even before he had joined the Daily Planet.

Only this would be much bigger and more important... And he had to do something to get the image of that dead girl, so like his sister Lara, but cold and still on the cold stone of that dark alley, out of his mind.

Winters gestured for them to leave, all except Lex and waited for the door to close behind them before looking at him quizzically.

Lex stood there, waiting a moment after the door had closed behind the three. What to say, how to say it... He kept his hands in his pockets, and cleared his throat a little. "Get a warrant to search his apartment. And you'll get more hits, Fred. This isn't a one time thing."

Winters raised an eyebrow at the offered information. "Sit," he gestured. "What do you know about this, Lex?"

He pulled out the chair, his hands unsteady as he sat down. "I... I'm not sure where to start." Or how much he could get away with not saying. Nine years. Twenty since it had last happened to him. Twenty years was a long, long time.

"Something to do with your bad reactions to do with this sort of case?" Winters guessed shrewdly.

Bad reactions. That was one way to put it. Lex shifted his hands, clutching them together in his lap. "If... *when* you go through Dominic's apartment, you might find pictures of me in there. It was twenty-some years ago, but..." He drew a shaky breath. There had still been five very long years and some months of Dominic and his friends, stopping only after his mother had died.

Winters inhaled sharply. It was obvious he wasn't quite expecting that level of involvement. "Does... have you told anyone else?"

"No. How... how could I? I, I..." He shifted, and drank another swig of his soda. Calm. Had to... keep calm. Or something like calm. "No."

"No therapy?" Winters wasn't even questioning that he might make it up and he had a look on his face as if that explained a great deal.

"A little. No details. I... just enough to get her to give me a prescription." Which probably meant that she was a bad therapist, but he was *trying*. He was vague with her, but he tried, he tried to listen to her suggestions and followed what he could. He wanted to do better in life.

But no details. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Right." Winters exhaled again. "A one off or...?"

"Five years." Hell, he was getting to be vague with Winters, which was almost a relief. Almost. "Dad needed money... About when I was eight."

"Five years. God." Winters looked old for a moment. "It wasn't just him was it? If your father was involved, there was something more?"

It was a good time to look down to the edge of the soda can, and not winters face. "It's a ring. They... what I remember is that they'd... trade you. Me. It..." Lex drew in a breath, and gave a nervous exhalation. "Was for a couple of days every once in a while. Like renting a motel room. Only it..." Was *him*. That poor girl.

"Dammit." There was silence a moment, a long moment as Winters contemplated. "What do you want to do, Lex? I know what my instincts tell me. I need my best DNA man working this as long as I can. They'll want to pull you, but if the ground work is done, Lex, we might stand a chance. Legitimately we don't know there might be a conflict of interest at this point."

Lex looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I… I don't know, Fred, I don't know if I can." His hands were shaking just thinking about it.

"Listen, if we go after this bastard," -- and that had to be the first time he had heard Fred even drift into the realms of profanity -- "... I swear to you, we're going to take down the whole lot. I don't just want Senatori, I want the ring. This is what we're about, making an impact. I have a problem, though -- Senatori got off last time because I took your recommendation that you couldn't work that case, which is totally understandable, more than understandable, and let someone without your expertise run the DNA profiling and had to deal with the consequences of an 'inconclusive' result. I bear the responsibility for that decision, Lex, but... now, the opportunity returns, and I don't know of anyone out there with the sort of fine touch that you have for this work. And yet I cannot in good conscience order you to do this. Tell me truthfully, Lex, can you deal with this?"

"I..." Could he? It was a good question, and he didn't have time to truthfully think it out. Later. "I can't in good conscience say no. So. I guess I'll have to."

"Then I'll need you on this. Kieran will have to provide the evidence that definitively puts the elements in the compromising areas, otherwise he could come up with some reasonable doubt ploy that he had used the place wherever it was prior to whoever did that to her. If your father and the LuthorCorp board were involved, we are going to do this incredibly by the book and have it nailed down tight. I'm willing to bet that some of our unsolved cases might be connected." Winters grimaced again as he considered the implications of how this case could spiral out of control. "Lionel Luthor plays rough when it comes to getting out of trouble. I believe Chloe can attest to that."

"Fred?" Lex twisted his empty soda can a little, hands restless as he considered what he was about to say. "He's my father. I'm intimately more aware of this fact than any of the department."

"I thought you had little contact with him?" Winters asked looking at him carefully.

"Today. Since I've come here. He still calls once a week. I still have to attend the odd function. Neither fact just... just erases the twenty one years that I spent under his thumb." It wasn't like his father would change his tactics or techniques, and why was Winters *giving* him that look? He was suspecting him, wasn't he? He was.

That was so damned wrong. Lex twisted the can a little more, and the side split, cutting his thumb. "Shit."

"Careful there," Winters said, absently. "Okay, Lex. As we stand at the moment there is no reason for you to be removed from the investigation. However, if I feel that at any point the defense could use your presence as a means to undermine a prosecuting case, I will take you off. And if you really can't handle it, seriously... I'm trusting you to tell me. I'll be monitoring the finds. If there's no evidence of you involved. then we continue -- because they wouldn't be able to invalidate your evidence without incriminating themselves. I want you to tell me if you're approached by your father over this, in fact I might see if I can spring for a wire or a phone tap if you'll agree to it, just in case."

Lex drew his hand up to his mouth, nodding. Then he mumbled around his thumb, "He calls me on my cell, so I'm not sure how that would work out. If... You do find... me in there somewhere, you'll only take me off the case, not..." Take him out of *work* for a while, which was his greatest fear. He loved his job, and that was why he'd always kept it a tight secret. He didn't want to lose his job.

Winters looked at him with a serious expression. "This has given me a great deal of insight into why you always seem so surprised when I say how important you are to the department Lex. I'm not exactly effusive with my praise, am I? People like you are rare indeed and I'll be frank, I live in fear of the day when someone might poach you from me. I will protect the case, but I also protect the team. That's what it's about, understand? You have my support. Do you want me to recommend a therapist for you? The one I use, perhaps?"

"...I didn't know you used a therapist." He sucked at his thumb a little more, trying to staunch the bleeding, then just gave up. Sort of like what he'd done with his personal life. Left it a mess and kind of just ignored that he'd never tidied it up very well.

"It's not something I noise about," Winters said. "But yes, I do. I'll drop the name in for you later. Go get your thumb seen to, and make sure you take your statutory breaks, Lex. No skipping them no matter the urgency of your colleagues' demands. If they give you a hard time, send them to me."

That was a strange order -- usually breaks were sort of optional things, and Lex didn't usually take them. But if that was the word from on high... "I will. Thanks." He stood up, and turned carefully, dropping the soda can into the trash as he pulled open the door with his right hand, which thankfully wasn't bleeding.

Winters watched him go, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. This had given him a lot to think about, and he had a feeling there was going to be a lot of discussion going on at the highest levels. All this, and a reporter, too. God help him.

Winters was just a little tired. Just a little tired, and just a little nervous waiting for the warrant. It was a race against time, but the DNA match was more than sufficient evidence for the warrant. They'd taken the swab off of the little girl's genitals -- it didn't get much more damning than that, and he could imagine this scumbag pleading, 'I fucked her, but I didn't kill her,' in hopes of some leniency.

If Winters got to write the laws, the death penalty would apply to child molesters, too. But that wasn't up to him. He just read the evidence.

And by the looks of it some tripe of an article from the way that reporter was loitering outside his office door. He was mildly surprised that the man looked like he was used to covering nights and dealing with the odd hours. Visitors were usually on the verge of falling asleep after a shift with the night team.

"Sir? You want to look over the article before I submit it?" Clark asked politely.

"Yes." Winters got to his feet a little, hand out to take the rough draft. "Did you enjoy shadowing our part of the department today?"

"It's certainly been an experience," Clark replied, passing over the sheet. "Everyone has been very cooperative."

Even if Adam had shouted at him. But then he'd used that in the story as well, the part about the bodies being people, that the cases were about people and not just about data.

"Mmhm. Did you find any members particularly interesting? I know that you're good friends with Ms. Sullivan..." He cleared his throat a little as he sat down, putting his reading glasses back on so he could carefully scan the article.

"I had a particularly good conversation with Lex," Clark replied. "But I think it is evident from the article that I found all the members interesting."

The article was of substantial length; Clark was confident that the material in it was strong enough for it not to be cut. Perry might choose to serialize it, but he wouldn't cut it. He watched as Winters scanned over the first lines hoping he had hit the tone just right

"The ability to face death has always been regarded as one of humanity's ultimate tests of character. All around the world, people are acknowledged for their bravery in facing the possibility of death for whatever reason. Medals are given out, awards and public recognition seem to be the fruits of such an endeavor.

"Except, it would seem, when facing death is something done so frequently that it is your job; there, the courage to face what most people would regard as extraordinary, harrowing things are so commonplace, so ordinary that the people doing it don't even realize it is a part of their existence. It is easy to dismiss the CSI department as dry and unfeeling as the data they are required to process, but what they do in the end is not about data, or cases, it is about people, death and in the end, justice..."

The whole article was in that vein, and Winters soaked in the material carefully, making sure that there was no turn of a phrase that could give away a case. No, which was good. There was a little about each of them, and a little more about Lex -- just due to his charity -- that made his mouth twitch. "It's very well written, Mr. Kent. And I notice you carefully avoided mention of any of the cases -- good work. This article is approved."

"And my request to work alongside this case?" He'd have to do a few other stories. That wouldn't affect him as much as anything else. But he couldn't pitch it to Perry without permission to do so from the head of the department. "You want to put a more positive swing on your department and the police department in general, and I can do that as well as follow leads that perhaps the official channels cannot?"

"Granted," Winters said after a moment of pause. "Your newspaper must cover cases like this, and perhaps we'd benefit to have you covering them instead of Lois Lane."

"You understand that my Editor might try and use both angles?" Clark said. "Lois is... a specialist in the corporate dirty secrets stories. We've worked together before -- in fact if you've ever seen a positive slant in her stories that was probably me."

Two sides of the same reporting coin, then; Winters still nodded. "I understand. One can never silence the press, but one can court favorable press."

Clark smiled. "I'll find an acceptable way to write it up. I'll be seeing other departments as well, but I think it's going to be a good angle to show how it's the work here that is critical to closing a big case like this."

"Case in point -- we're waiting to serve a warrant on Dominic Senatori. You won't be allowed near the scene until it's been secured, however..." The phone in his pocket rang, and Fred Winters stood up sharply. "Please, feel free to entertain yourself here."

"Understood sir," Clark replied and took that as a dismissal even if he was listening as he saw himself out.

"You're sending a policeman over to the building with a warrant? Perfect. We'll be on our way..." Winters followed Clark out of the office, then power-talked past him. "Adam! Chloe! Get your asses in gear!"

"We got it?" Adam ignored Clark as he strode out of their office. "Chloe, leave that, we can do that after... we've got a live search."

"On Senatori?" Chloe's eyes were keen as she followed after him. "Great. That's great -- Hey, Clark."

"Mr. Kent is staying here for the moment. Get your kits, and let's go." Winters expression was shockingly *awake* as he headed out to leave.

"We're on it," Adam said nodding again. "By the book, Sullivan -- we don't want any hint of a technicality for dismissal, because they'll take us apart looking for anything. Even if we have Probable Cause."

Clark stood to one side even as the pair of them shifted up another gear. At the end of a ten hour shift he was not entirely sure how any of them had another gear to go, but it looked like the team was pulling a double to get this pushed through.

And he was being left there. To fend for himself among the lab techs who were all... still working. Double shifts all around?

Seemed to be the norm. He watched as they all cleared out, and then did the hasty calls to Perry, sent the email with his article and pitched the case at him. Perry leapt on it, told him to stay and he smiled a little to himself. He was the first one on scene and he would get it even before the others knew and were playing catch up. In newspaper terms that was a priceless edge. Perry had the chance to get what every major newspaper wanted in Metropolis. An 'in' with the Police Department.

Still, in the mean time, what was he supposed to do? Back to the techs. He wondered if they needed something to eat or something? That might grease the wheels a little.

Yeah. Good idea.

A blur of speed later and he had a variety of bagels, hot drinks, and breakfast pastries that the vendors of Metropolis could supply, and he wandered down towards the break room.

Eddie was the first guy to notice; it was a slow night for him, but he still had stuff to run through. "Kent? You brought food...?"

"Blatant bribery," Clark said with his best disarming grin. "Mr. Winters said I could stick around, and I was starting to get hungry and thought I'd ingratiate myself to you guys. Particularly as my editor likes the article I did on the department."

"Free donuts," Eddie grinned back as he moved to 'help' Clark set things down in the break room. "You know, you should probably tell the others."

"That was the idea. I just grabbed a load of things, I have no idea if people will like them," Clark said. His Mom was right. Food was a great way to get people relaxed. "I'll just talk a walk up the corridor, send them down. Try not to eat all of it before the others get here."

"Yeah, when you get back, why don't you join us?"

He flashed another brilliant smile. "Thanks, I think I will."

He congratulated himself on the idea as he wandered the offices, telling the irascible Ash, and the redoubtable Chrissie of the free food to be had, and then went across to Lex's workplace, knocking on the door as Lex was obviously a bit jumpy about people just appearing in the room next to him from his reaction. "Lex? I'm trying to corrupt the masses, and I got some food in? And cappuccinos from that place up the road. Want some?"

Knocking and then opening the door got him a wholly different reaction than just touching him had gotten. Lex looked up calmly, and smiled a little. "Coffee? I could probably use some food..."

"Well, you better come to the break room. Ed has been alone with those donuts for a good five minutes," Clark said with a smile. "I'm wondering if there will be any left from the way he was eyeing them."

"Nigel's coming up for a promotion, so he's been on a diet to shed a little extra weight," Lex offered as he picked up his coffee cup. "Which means Eddie hasn't had much access to sweets for the past month."

"Yeah? Must be as bad as the Daily Planet. Walk in there with donuts and Lois will have them and THEN hit me for bringing them in," Clark said. "C'mon, the others have just gone out on the warrant."

That seemed to peel away Lex's joviality, and he nodded as he headed for the door. "Great. Do you want to bet money that my phone's going to ring in the next half an hour?"

"You seem to be sure that's a safe bet," Clark said. "Why?"

"Dominic lives in Luthor Towers," Lex shrugged once they were in the hallway. "I know I'll get a call."

"You live there?" Clark asked puzzled.

"Me? God no. I live... Out on the edge of the city. It's quiet. I'm in a nice apartment building where a lot of retirees and career people live." So he didn't have children running around outside making noise, but he did have older people asking him to fix things. And that was okay for Lex. Better than okay. "My father lives in Luthor Towers."

"Ah," Clark winced a little. "That's going to be really awkward for you. He'll call you and try and what...?"

Lex gave a lazy roll of his shoulders. "I never can tell. Maybe he'll just say 'hello' in a threatening manner. I'm sure that as a reporter, you've had your run-ins."

"Mmhm. I have." Clark had to admit that. "Particularly with your father."

He'd spent his high school and college year playing a very dangerous game with the man. He'd proven the fact that one slip and the man would have him. He rather secretly wished that he never had saved him from the knife, but it had proven the point. He knew exactly who his worst enemy was. It probably wasn't the thing to mention to his son, no matter how estranged.

Or just... strange. He half wished that he'd eavesdropped on Lex's 'words' with Winters, but... He hadn't, and there wasn't any way to turn back the hands of time. "Most of the city has," Lex agreed as he turned into the break room. He seemed to zero in on the tray of large cappuccinos.

"Lex, tell Ed to share the donuts, otherwise I won't give him any of the bagels," Ash said the moment he stepped inside obviously expecting him to arbitrate the good natured argument.

"Ed, if you share the donuts I'll think about sharing the coffee. And we have to leave enough for the investigators," Lex noted as he picked up one of the coffees and carefully popped the top to pour it into his own clean coffee mug.

"You're kidding? You know what Klaus is like," Ash sighed and sat down even as Clark took a drink himself, and Chrissie looked at her cappuccino with the delight of an addict getting a good hit.

"Hey, this is the quality stuff, Kent," she said "Oh God, this is the hazelnut blend... Mmm." She actually smiled almost dreamily which was a surprising sight considering how she usually behaved.

"I remember you saying you liked coffee," Clark shrugged.

Lex did a quick count, and moved five coffees to one side for their five inspectors, then dropped his empty cup in the trash once he'd shaken the foam into his mug. "It's safe to say that most of us like coffee. When you're night shifting... you need something."

"Like donuts," Ed said as he walked away from the box with one clutched tightly in hand, wrapped in a paper napkin.

"Well there's coffee and there's... mud frothed up in hot water," Chrissie said savoring her cup and favoring Clark with a nod and a smile. Clark considered it worth the extra seconds he had taken to go to get it.

"So, Adam got the warrant, huh?" Ash asked. "Bet he nearly cracked a smile."

"Or one of those growly teeth-barings," Eddie offered around a mouthful of powdered sugar.

Lex snagged a Danish, and retreated to the corner while the others talked. He was still smiling every now and then, but the topic had made him pretty... withdrawn, and Clark wanted to guess that he wasn't usually like that in the office.

Mind you, the thought of it was enough to make anyone upset or uncertain. He'd seen enough of this particular case to understand why it would send anyone upset. And if Lex knew Senatori...

God, that had to be terrible.

Clark moved over near him, settling close by as he listened.

"He's pretty scary," Clark contributed with a slight laugh. "I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him."

"Adam?" Lex shrugged his shoulders, sipping a little at his coffee as he picked his Danish apart carefully. "He's very intense, but he's not scary."

"He managed to shout at me within a few minutes of meeting me," Clark replied smiling as he bit into his own Danish. "That puts him as someone to be careful around. Either that or he really doesn't like reporters at all."

"Hey, none of us like reporters," Ash said with his mouth full. "No offense but as a collective, reporters are pretty much regarded as scum of the earth by the departments."

"Ash!" Chrissie berated him.

"What? Ain't nothing but the truth, Chrissie." Ash looked unrepentant.

"Chloe's beloved cousin in particular," Lex said with a faint, faint smile. "I'd love to sit in here and chew the fat for a while longer, but I have some Tox reports to run on some druggie urine."

"Nothing says 'I love my job' more than soaking test papers in dead person's pee," Eddie grinned a little. "Here, grab a plate for that mess you're making out of your Danish and take it with you."

"I'll get it," Clark said fetching one. "Lex, you mind if I use your office to do some work on my laptop? Ed offered earlier but the impact tests still make me want to duck and cover."

"Uh..." Lex started to stand up, mug in hand, and snagged a napkin to take with him. "Sure, I guess. It's quiet in the lab. You can use my desk."

"Sure? Say no if I'll be in the way, I don't want to screw up anything you are working on?" Clark asked even as he stood to follow anyway.

"No, you'll be fine. Just don't spit in my tubes."

"Strangely enough, that wasn't part of my plans, but now you mention it..." Clark teased lightly and followed Lex back to his lair.

Lair was a good word for it, since Lex seemed at home in the place. Music playing, a comfortable setup... "Don't even joke about it."

Clark smiled. "You won't know I'm here, promise."

"Great. The desk is there, and... have fun?" Lex sipped at his coffee, and started up the printer again, perching a little away from the supplies to eat his food without making a mess.

Clark nodded and settled down to catch up on all the other pieces that Perry had told him he had to do as well as track this one. If Lex wanted silence, that was what he got, save the gentle tap of his fingers on keys.

Tap tap, tap tap was fine for Lex. He had a lot of other things to process for the lab. That still didn't soothe his mind. He could imagine that the investigators would be back at any minute. And what they might have found there. He knew that Dominic kept a Doberman as a 'guard', but really more to scare the shit out of pedestrians when he walked it. So two and two made four, which made...

Lex's cell phone go off in his pocket like some sort of ticking time-bomb, playing the classic strains of 'Devil went down to Georgia'. "Fuck."

"You don't have to answer it," Clark suggested hastily as it continued playing the tune. "Is it him?"

"The last time I deigned not to answer my phone, he 'suspected' that something ill had befallen me, and showed up to work." Yes. That was as much of a 'yes' as Clark needed, while Lex put down the emptied pipette and flipped his phone open. "Luthor."

~"Lex, my boy."~ Lionel's voice was a touch rough this early in the morning. ~"I just thought I would call and inquire if you could enlighten me to as to why some of your colleagues have taken it upon themselves to disturb the peace of Luthor Towers?"~

"No idea. I've told you to not call me every time a siren pulls up to the building." Lex turned a little away from Clark, feeling his nerves start to crawl. It always happened. He could be having a wonderful day, and his father merely calling would suck the life out of him, leave him cold and shaken.

~"Now, now Lex, you may have forsaken your family, but you cannot forsake your blood,"~ the voice purred insinuatingly. ~"You wouldn't be a Luthor if you didn't know what was going on around you. And I know how particular you are about being surprised by anything. Are you trying to tell me that you genuinely have no idea why your own department decided to batter their way into Dominic's apartment?"~

"I don't discuss cases with you," Lex hissed, ducking his head down. "And my department doesn't batter. They get a warrant. Just like you haul out your lawyers. I'm not going to talk about this."

~"Dominic is likely to be very displeased,"~ Lionel commented easily. ~"And I know for some reason you disliked to see him displeased. You were _very_ close at one point."~ Talking to his father was like slowly chewing on poison. ~"I do hope that this is all a terrible mistake, don't you? It would inconvenience me a great deal to have a lengthy disruption to my Board. Really, anyone would think that you didn't have real crime to fight. Or is that it? Since the arrival of that... alien, you have to do this sort of thing to convince the taxpayers your jobs are worthwhile?"~

"Are you done? I already said that I'm not going to discuss the case. I'm not going to let you bait me into discussing the case. Mentioning 'Superman' isn't going to get my hackles up like he gets yours up. I almost think you're losing your edge."

~"Really Lex, this is ridiculous. I do hope this action does your department no harm."~ There was a significant pause and then Lionel said in a lazy tone. ~"Professional, of course. It wouldn't kill you to remain courteous to your relatives. You might find that there is a degree of security to be had from renewing our association."~

The same old story, given a new push by his father. He didn't sound upset but...

But Lex knew better.

He sucked in an unsteady breath, exhaled, and then inhaled again, trying to concentrate on staying calm. "As long as you... no. Jesus, you almost got me there. I'm not really interested in renewing any association with you. And you know *why*."

~"Well perhaps you can explain in detail over a lunch or dinner?"~ Lionel suggested mildly. ~"Hmm?"~

"No. You know I don't eat out. Or with you, anymore." Lex gave a laugh, and it cracked, just like his crackling nerves.

~"Well, I'll just have to hope that you reconsider, Lex. I would love to talk over old times."~ Lionel's phrases were all full of subtle nuance that were almost another language, a Luthor language, uninterruptible by the normal world but Lex could read the meanings well enough. ~"You have my number if you change your mind."~

"I know, and I won't be reconsidering. I'll see you at Christmas, as always." In the grand tradition of _A Lion in Winter_, Lex decided, still barely holding onto the phone. His fingers were loose on it, grip lax so he didn't throw it at anything. Or break it. "Now, I'm at work, so if you don't mind, I have to go."

~"Of course, I wouldn't want to trouble your busy workload,"~ Lionel said. ~"Goodbye, son."~ And just like that he hung up, seizing back the control of the conversation.

Lex let him. It wasn't worth fighting. And he just... closed his phone, drew a shaky breath, and shoved it back into his pocket. Jesus. He couldn't do that too often. The best part was how his father pretended that there was nothing wrong.

"You okay?" Clark was turned around watching him. Lionel had a way of commanding someone's entire attention, and he had momentarily forgotten he had been sharing the room. "It was him, wasn't it?"

Fuck. He had to pull together, immediately. Lex kept his back to Clark, and then meandered calmly back to retrieve his coffee cup. "Yes. And yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Sit down Lex," Clark said gesturing to the chair. "I was going to offer to leave but it was a bit late. Was he trying something?"

"He always tries to find out about my cases," Lex muttered as he sipped at his coffee. He still didn't make a move to sit down. It would've been too much like being trapped. And that was the last thing he wanted just then.

"Just to annoy you?" Clark asked, though he was aware it was more than mere annoyance. Lex looked shaken and disturbed, as if talking to his father was a great ordeal. He could hear Lex's heart beating from here, without straining too much. Everything about this man whispered at him to find a way to fix things, but he didn't even know what was broken.

"Just to get information on me," Lex suggested. "He thinks... that I can just be, be an in for him into the station. And he *knows* that this is about, why Dominic's being raided. Just... wanted me to say it." Making him a risk to the department.

"Well if it makes any difference, it was probably lucky I was here with you then," Clark replied. "So you have a witness that nothing happened."

Lex shrugged his shoulders tightly, pacing more as he drank his coffee. Slow, tight circles, to shake off the bunching feeling in the muscles of his legs. "I'm going to get pulled on this case. It won't matter."

"Because of your father?" Clark asked gently easing into the question. He could tell that he was on the edge of something here.

"Yeah." Lex rubbed as his temple and nursed his coffee a little more. "I have to get back to work."

"Okay, " Clark replied hesitantly. "But if you do want to talk about it... off the record, I'm willing to listen."

It was a stupid offer really. Clark knew that, Lex was most likely to go to a friend, but he remember Pete telling him once that sometimes it was easier to talk to a stranger.

"Look, I... don't talk about it," Lex murmured as he set his coffee on the outer desk, and sat down to get back to work again. "I never have."

Clark looked at him askance. "I do understand about secrets, Lex. I also know that if you don't share with someone. it can end up destroying you more than other people knowing would."

It had nearly happened so many times until he had found a way of living both sets of the truth at the same time. "I also understand the consequences of it as well. Remember that FBI case against your father that got dismissed because one of the witnesses disappeared?"

"I do." He shifted his fingers, and finally got to his feet again, and walked back towards the desk, towards Clark -- more importantly, towards his pills. Fuck it. He knew, could feel it coming, that his whole house of cards was going to fall down on him. Winters probably knew that, too. Dominic was a packrat, they'd find him, him as he'd once been, in that apartment somewhere, and then...

And then he didn't know what would happen. And it scared him.

"I was the missing witness. Missing for three months while the trial went on." Clark said. "Chloe was the other, I don't know if she said."

"She's said," Lex told him quietly. "There's a crime in silence. With only a tape recording against him, my father got off." There's a crime in silence. God, that thought was going to just eat him alive, and he... he needed his pills. It was like waiting for a volcano to explode. "Hey, can you move?" Lex half-suggested as he reached to open up the desk drawer, but not wanting to touch Clark in the process.

"Sure," Clark leaned away so he could do so. "I just wanted you to know I may not understand everything but I'm not likely a person to say, no, he couldn't possibility have done that. And neither would Chloe for that matter."

"I've known Chloe for a few years now," Lex commented as he pulled out his pill bottle, then opening it. "We've covered a lot of cases where people get off on technicalities. Technicalities like people who have a vendetta or motive against them."

Clark watched him. "And that's connected to this?"

"I have the barest of contacts with my family. I see them at Christmas. I talk to my brother once in a while. I talk to my father once in a while. It..." His hands shook as he shook out two... hell, four. That was it for him for the day, and he was going to drop out of reality in about an hour, but fuck it. Winters, Adam and Chloe would be back then if not sooner.

A man had to prepare for his nervous breakdowns.

"And they'll pull you for that contact if your father is connected to Senatori?" Clark asked watching him, but not really realizing what it meant.

"They'll pull me for Senatori," Lex said as he checked that all the pills were five mg each. "And if I luck out, they won't. But they'll pull me for my father. Who is connected, but perhaps not by evidence. Hey, can you open the drawer by your knee and pass me a bottle of water?"

Clark felt a chill at the implications of Lex had just said even as he reached for the water. He wondered if Lex realized what he had just admitted, "You... you're linked to Senatori?"

"Yes." And maybe he didn't know what he was saying, and maybe he did. Lex tossed the pills into his mouth, and then held his hand out for the bottle of water. Clark passed it over looking directly at Lex as if searching for the answers there so he wouldn't have to ask.

Lex didn't have answers, as he cracked the bottle and washed the pills down. He drank half, and then set it back down carefully, away from Clark's papers. "Right. I need to get back to work before this shit hits."

Clark opened his mouth to push the moment and then hesitated in defiance of his reporter's training. There was something too brittle to push right now. "Okay," he said finally, as if that would make it okay. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going anywhere. Lex might not realize it, but he needed someone there if only to give him a witness if things were going to be as serious as all that.

Lex was quiet after that, but the lab was thick with tension. Thick. Lex worked quietly, in tight jerky motions, trying to go faster. Getting as much work in, *complete* before the call came. Before the guy from the next shift that was actually being worked came in, before...

His cell phone rang just as he was putting the last results through Codis.

Clark glanced around as the cell played Hail to the Chief and this time he let his hearing wander just a little as Lex answered.

~"Lex, it's Fred."~

"You know, I've been wondering when you'd call. I'm all caught up on the backlog." It was a sick rush of relief, but it didn't stop Lex's heart from hammering in his chest.

~"...that's good news." ~ It genuinely sounded like it was. ~"Lex, you were right. I'm sorry." ~

"So'm I. Is... there a lot?" He turned his head walking to pick up his coffee cup. He was shaking. Like a leaf, but at least he could talk.

Another long pause. ~"It... yes. "~ Winters sounded old then as if what they had faced there was something no one should have to face. ~"I thought I was expecting it after what you said, but..." ~

"I don't like to go into details." He took a sip of his coffee cup, relying on bravado to keep him upright as he leaned against the counter. "I... Look, I'm going to cut out early instead of pulling a full double shift. Unless..." They had to talk to him about the pictures. Which he didn't want, but procedure was procedure no matter who they were.

~"How many tranquilizers have you taken?" ~ Winters asked unconsciously lowering his voice.

"Uh... two when I came in, one midway, four just now. Still five milligrams within my safety net." He didn't pitch his voice down, instead leaning more against the counter, eyes closed as he talked into his cell. "I'm still coherent."

~"I want you to get someone to take you home. Now. By the time we get back you'll be teetering on the edge, and I can't in good conscience let you try and get home alone. We'll do your statement tomorrow. By then we'll have enough evidence that yours will be not the lynch pin of the case." ~ Winters paused. ~"Okay?"~

"Okay. But I'm driving myself home. I don't... let people drive me. I... I'll just see you tomorrow."

~"Lex, no, with that--"~ It was too late -- he'd already hung up and cut the man off.

Lex let out a shaky breath and pocketed the phone. "Good luck on the case, Kent." He was going to go home, and fucking collapse. Curl up on his sofa and watch old movies.

"Wait, wait... what are you doing?" Clark asked looking alarmed. "I heard something milligrams and driving, what was all that?"

"I'm going home," Lex said firmly. He could see what was coming. Kent was going to offer, because hey, that was just the kind of guy Chloe had always mentioned he was. "Winters doesn't want me to drive myself home, but I don't take taxis and... I don't ride with people. I'll get home before this stuff really hits."

"I'm going with you." Clark said immediately. "Jesus, Lex -- okay, you drive and I'll ride shotgun if you want to do that, but it's been a long night. What if you haven't got as long as you think? Or traffic is bad?"

"No!" He took a step backwards, suddenly sharp. "I... I, I... just don't." He wished that things hadn't come to that, that he hadn't had to get sharp with a 'nice' guy.

"Is it that I'm a stranger or... just anyone, because if it is just anyone then I'm still going with you Lex. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or anyone else." Clark said standing firm. "I know you don't want that."

"You don't know me." He darted in to leave his mug on the desk, almost a little neurotically, then headed to leave the lab. "And I want to get out of here before they roll in."

Clark grabbed his jacket. "I'm coming with you," he insisted. "My Dad would hate for his hard work to be undone because I wouldn't make a nuisance of myself."

"Look, I..." He kept walking. "I'm really uncomfortable with anyone going home with me."

"I gathered," Clark replied. "I swear I won't do anything okay? I'll... just see you to the door, I won't come in. Whatever, but I'm not going to allow you to drive back alone. You can trust me Lex."

"How will you get back home?" Damn, even pragmatism wasn't working on the guy. He wasn't going to shake him. "Never mind. You probably have some snappy solution for that. Fine. You can come with me."

"I'll take a taxi," Clark said earnestly. "Thank you. Seriously. You can be mad at me tomorrow or something."

"Too much effort. I just want to get home and collapse. Watch old movies. Blow up something in the microwave." Sleep didn't peg the radar just yet. He knew he wouldn't be able to. As long as he kept moving, kept running a few feet ahead of the lava flow...

"Where's your car?" Clark asked walking along side him. "You sure you're okay to drive?"

"No. But I'm going to," Lex gritted out as he pushed open the front doors. And faltered a little when he saw Winters getting out of his SUV. Fuck. He'd probably decided to rush over once Lex had hung up on him.

"Lex! Hold up a minute.." Winters looked at Clark a little bemused. "I wanted to check you weren't going to try to go alone."

"It's all right, Mr. Winters, Lex agreed to let me escort him back," Clark said politely.

Reluctantly agreed. Lex shied away from Winters, slipping his hands into his pockets. "What he said."

"Right. Eight." Winters looked discomfited and a little surprised. "Tomorrow, Lex, come straight to my office. We need to talk."

He didn't want to. He wanted... to never come in again, because that was his first instinct, but he loved his job. He did good work, so he just gave Winters a tight nod. "Of course. I'll see you tonight, then."

Winters gave them a brisk nod and then said "Thank you, Mr. Kent," before he headed off inside.

"If you're going to be back in later, then we'd better get you home," Clark said. "Car?"

Lex gestured with his head towards an unostentatious-looking Audi. Unostentatious until Clark realized it was one of the James Bond models. Gorgeous, sleek lines, but not too sporty. "This one." he took a moment to fish his keys out of his pocket.

"You still want to drive?" Clark asked in a normal tone. "That is a fantastic car -- I'd hate to see it knocked or scraped."

If... something happened, they'd know who it was. Even if Kent were that type of person, he wasn't that stupid. Lex's mouth thinned out, and then he didn't answer -- he merely tossed Clark his keys. "Drive."

Clark caught them automatically. "Wow, really?" he said as if Lex were doing him the favor not vice versa. "Driving quality won't be great. We only really had trucks in Smallville and they don't exactly handle that well." He carried on with normal chatter as if using it as a soothing blanket of sound to get them underway.

It helped, even if Lex stayed silent once Clark had opened the driver-side door. He opened the passenger side door, and took a long minute of pause before he got in. As long as he concentrated on breathing, he'd be fine. Slow breath in, slow breath out, until he got home. He wouldn't think. He wouldn't think about condoms on the floor mat and old bags of fast-food. Or how the seat went back. And...

"..mind you, this probably isn't the time to tell you that my track record with the trucks was a bit poor. Got tossed a couple of times," Clark said with a smile which faded a little as he turned to look at Lex as he turned the key in the ignition. The other man looked like he was on the rack or something. "...uh, yeah. So, you going to take it easy this afternoon? Not going to do anything?"

"Sleep," Lex shrugged, voice tight. "It's not like I'm going to go out and run a marathon." He rubbed at his eyes, closing them tight. Fuck. The guy needed directions. "Do you know where Sherwood Road is?

"Yeah, I can find it. You live there?" Clark asked even as he pulled away desperately trying to keep the conversation going, no matter how awkward it was.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure how... familiar you are with the city. It's a pretty quiet area." Lex leaded his head against the headrest, concentrating on breathing. In. Out. In...

"You get to know pretty much everywhere when you're a reporter. Stories happen in the unlikeliest places. I did a low key story up on Sherwood some time back," Clark continued allowing the words to flow almost hypnotically. "It was about a Mrs. Templeton and her apparently psychic cat. They start you on that sort of thing when you're the most junior reporter at the place. I had to be so serious about the whole thing and this cat decided to climb up my leg and… I swear, there I am asking these deep and meaningful question and the cat is trying to nest in my hair or something..."

"So you must've... psychically imaged as a bird to it," Lex joked weakly. "Or a big cat bed. Actually, Mrs. Templeton lives in my apartment building. I help her when her plumbing goes funny."

"Mrs. Templeton said that it meant that I must be very strongly psychic myself and special," Clark said relieved that there had been a bit of feedback from his passenger. "I had to point out that if that were the case I would be unlikely to be doing a story on her cat. She decided that it was a sign of things meant to be."

Lex almost smiled at Clark, but kept his eyes closed, bolt upright in the seat. "I'm sure she did. So, how did the psychic cat pan out?"

"Delphus -- Del for short -- was surprising accurate about predicting the weather with these weather symbols she had made, I'll give you that. Sadly he refused to predict the lottery numbers for me. Mrs. Templeton said that would be abusing his power, and that I was a 'bad boy' to even suggest such a thing." Clark grinned a little. "I nearly had my cup of tea withdrawn for that."

"I wouldn't have risked it. She makes a good cup of tea," Lex commented. "And cookies. I've never seen Del predict the weather, though. Usually he just attacks my feet."

"Maybe he likes the plumbing sabotaged. Maybe it's the source of his mysterious feline power," Clark grinned appreciating the smoothness of the car as they negotiated the traffic.

"It's very possible. I've replaced the pipe under her kitchen sink twice in the past year, and it keeps popping leaks. Next time, I'm looking for claw and gnaw marks." Lex sighed a little, and finally opened his eyes. He might as well. It was daylight, and there wasn't anything lurking in the shadows at him. Not from the moving car. Even if he got sick overlapping mental flashes of things that had happened years ago. "My father can't stand it, you know. That I'm happy living a mundane life."

"I wouldn't exactly say your life was mundane, Lex," Clark replied. "Even from what I've seen just today, I don't think anyone could say what you do is mundane. An extraordinary normality maybe, but definitely extraordinary."

"I process DNA, Clark. I'm a tech. I could... I could be a mogul like my father. I could be a businessman who's just rolling in it, but..." Lex shrugged his shoulders tightly. "I'm happy this way. At least until things like this happen."

"My dad would say 'Having everything, if you're not happy, is worse than having nothing'." Clark smiled. "Yeah, he really does talk like that. I know, I know. But… heh, you know who you're like? My Mom."

He lifted an eyebrow a little. "How's that?"

"Mom's dad was Jeff Clark of Clark, Henderson and Brown. I expect you've heard of them?" Clark glanced across at him. "Her dad had high hopes for her to follow him into the firm. She went to Met U and it was there she fell in love. Mom doesn't do things by halves. She saw my dad and an hour later she had decided he was the One." Clark took a deep breath. "She had to defy her father for her 'normal' life. He disapproved very strongly of my dad, said that Mom would be wasting her life, her potential. The fact that she would have been miserable in the firm never seemed to rate highly as a reason to him. They've been estranged since then. I only met him a couple of time. I think Dad worried about it for her sake sometimes, but..." Clark shrugged.

"People tend to know better than their parents what'll make them happy," Lex murmured. "I couldn't work with my father. I would've killed him by now. Or I would've paid someone to do it for me. And that's... not who I am."

"Yeah. That's the important thing. Doing what makes you happy is important, because... it spreads I guess," Clark said making a right turn. "And your father obviously doesn't make you happy at all. I'm amazed that you even maintain any contact."

So was Lex. He let his eyes rove out the window, trying to concentrate more on the scenery than the drifting feeling of dread that kept slipping off then surging back, like a pulse point that was stammering and skipping. "So am I. I don't have much of a say; he... forces contact. The best I can do is keep it to my own terms."

"It's pretty bad when that sort of thing happens," Clark agreed. "It helps to have people supporting you. Your friends help you?"

"I..." Lex shrugged his shoulders. "Don't let people close."

"There are some people you could trust, Lex," Clark replied, as if that was no surprise to him.

"I guess so," he sighed. "Everyone says that. My therapist says that. It's easy to say that when you're on the outside looking in."

"Yeah, easy to say, not so easy to do," Clark agreed. "So, same building as the psychic cat huh? That's... just up here on the right from memory, yeah?"

"On the left," Lex agreed a little tiredly. "Look... thanks. I'm sorry if I got short with you..."

"Perfectly understandable. I do have a habit of barging in where I'm not necessarily wanted. You did only meet me last night," Clark replied. "You've got no real reason to trust me, I understand that." There was a wry twist to his mouth when he said that. "I have people who have known me for years who seem to think I'm no open book."

"That happens. Most of the office..." Lex shrugged again, and gave another tired sigh. It was probably for the best that he hadn't driven himself, because it was really getting hard to not yawn. "Is going to be shocked once Winters processes the evidence. There's nothing wrong with... keeping things to yourself."

"I agree with that. Why are they going to be shocked?" Clark asked as he pulled in to the building parking area. He wasn't going to leave this car on the street.

"Because," Lex murmured, leaning his elbow the armrest, peering out the window. The trees that lined the street, the shop fronts were familiar to him. "I warned Winters, and he still didn't expect it. I... don't know how I'm going to face them."

"Warned him about what?" Clark asked even though he had a growing suspicion.

Might as well say it. Might as well, because Kent was just going to head back there and learn more once he got to the station again. "That I'm in the evidence."

Clark managed to bring a car to the halt before he responded. There were two ways Lex could be in the evidence; as an accomplice or as a victim. He didn't have to be a genius to work out which one the other man was. All of the strange behaviors, avoidance, his emotional shock and trauma made a lot of sense. "As a victim," he stated as he turned to look at him Clark's eyes seemed to have very blue highlights in with the green just then.

No yes or no. Lex just couldn't manage that. His fingers lingered on the handle inside the door, ready to pop it and get out as soon as he could. But he had to undo his seatbelt, first. "So I'm getting dropped from the case."

"Jesus. Lex... I.." Clark genuinely didn't know what to say. "Your work colleagues, they're all good people. They'll back you on this."

He popped the door open, then started to stand up, which was prompting for Clark to get out, too. "Doesn't matter. You can't shake off something like that. Thanks... for driving me home."

Clark nodded doing the same. He was quiet a moment, chewing on his lip as he got out. "Lex? You do know it wasn't your fault right? What happened to you?"

Lex waited for Clark to lock the car, then moved towards him to retrieve his keys. "There's a crime in silence. Thanks. I'm going to run up and call a taxi for you, okay?"

"Don't worry about it Lex, I'll walk a few blocks. I need to clear my head before going back." Clark handed him back the keys and then on impulse pulled out one of his business cards. "I know you don't let people get close, but this is going to be a pretty tough time for you, and sometimes it's easier to talk to people who are relative strangers. If you want to, I don't know... talk. Need someone there, just call. Any time."

Lex took the card, glanced at it before he pocketed it. At least Clark wasn't going to follow him to his apartment door. At least he'd keep that sanctity safe. "Thanks. I was going to call you anyway, about contacting your father." A faint gesture of a wave, and he stepped back to head into the main building.

Clark stood and watched him, the color of his eyes shifting to a deep stormy blue as his mind turned over what might have been done to this man -- who despite everything had managed to do great things. He needed desperately to be able to fix things and the anger at his own frustration deepened the color of his eyes to the startling Superman blue that had become his alter ego's trademark.

But what good was Superman here? What good was he for these crimes wrought of silence? Anyone who doubted the necessity for the police authorities when the city sported such a 'superhero' need look no further than this case.

And he would rail against himself if it would get the public to see this simple fact. Everyone had a responsibility to justice, and people like Lex had been failed by all of them. He wouldn't let that happen again.

He kept the blinds drawn when he was sleeping. It wasn't a day for sleeping in his bed, no. It was a day for dragging his sleeping bag out to the sofa, cocooning himself in flannel pajamas, a fleece blanket, and a half-zipped sleeping bag. He left the American Movie Channel on, volume low, the old classics playing as quiet background noise. His half-eaten sandwich was on a plate on the end table, the ham and cheese that he'd grilled just a little too burnt to finish.

It was like that that Lex dozed, comfortable and safe. Until there was a knock on his door.

When there was no immediate response, it rather swiftly became something just shy of a thump, and then eventually Lex's cell began playing his father's ring tone.

The phone was on the end-table, and it took Lex a moment to get out of his huddle to flip it open. "Mm, Luthor speaking."

~"Lex, open your damn door."~ His father sounded none too pleased with him. ~"Immediately."~

"Jesus, it's the middle of the day. I'm sleeping," he muttered as he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

~"I assure you, I will not take too much of your... precious time,"~ Lionel replied with a disdainful tone. ~"There are some things I do not wish to say over the phone and as you declined my offer for lunch or dinner, I decided we should speak here."~

"Fine. Just wait a second..." He lurched to his feet, rubbing a hand over his scalp as he closed the phone. Too blurred and sleepy to really start to stress yet, Lex meandered over to the door and opened it.

Lionel didn't wait for the door to open fully before he pushed his way inside, looking around with great distaste. "Really, Lex," he said as if those two words communicated his disgust. "We need to talk."

Lex wasn't even sure what Lionel was disgusted about; his home was clean, uncluttered. There was just his nest on the sofa, the half-finished sandwich, the TV set that was on with low volume. "What do we need to talk about, Dad?" Lex half-demanded as he stepped back, closing the door.

"They've arrested Dominic," Lionel said staring at him a moment. "Surely whatever drugs you're taking haven't addled your brains to the point that you cannot see the necessity in discussing that?"

"You want to know what I think of that? I think it's great. It's fantastic. I'm not on that case." Lex sat down heavily on the sofa, and covered a yawn with his hand. "The evidence doesn't lie, and it's not my place to say that it is."

"Frankly, Lex, Dominic has been very _foolish_, and I will be truly horrified by any details of his crime." His father was staring at him, his hair still wild and extravagant. "But we don't want any delusions making their way into the situation, do we?"

"Oh no, no delusions are getting into the case. Just evidence," Lex said, looking up at his father with faintly bloodshot eyes. "My supervisor found pictures of me in Dominic's apartment. So I've been pulled from the case. Please, leave me alone about it."

"Evidence is one thing, but... I'm warning you, Lex. I am not letting your resentment of me translate into any extension of these accusations," Lionel said sharply. It was evident that he couldn't imagine that Lex wouldn't try to seize the opportunity and run with it.

"It's not going to happen," Lex muttered as he rubbed at his temple. "If evidence shows up, it's out of my hands. But I'm *not* on that case. And..." He closed his eyes, swallowed. "I can't even imagine that we're having this conversation. Your crony ruined my life."

"What my... crony, as you so aptly describe him, did was totally beyond my knowledge. Your memories are playing you false, Lex." Lionel was suddenly way too close in his personal space.

Lex looked back at his father, just wanting to... scream, something. Anything. "Whatever you say, Dad. I certainly don't remember you telling me to be good and do what Dominic told me. Don't worry. If it's not in photographs, I'm not talking about it. All right? So just leave me the hell alone."

"Your manners as a host leave something to be desired," Lionel said, whirling back towards the door. "It's not likely to be anyone but yourself that would suffer for that. Or your... friends."

He trailed off and then left, shutting the door behind him so he could have the last word. As usual.

His father was a bastard of a human being. Someone who sold his son, and then... somehow made it his fault. Berated him as being at fault.

He wasn't going to get back to sleep after that. It was easier to wrap himself back up in his blanket, close his eyes, and try to not cry.

Clark had asked him whether he knew it wasn't his fault, and rationally he knew he should be able to say that of course he knew it wasn't his fault. His father had sold him, betrayed him, and Senatori and the others had taken his helplessness and used him.

And yet there was a part of him, the part that had taken responsibility for his life and defiantly if brokenly tried to make something of himself that was making amends for some deep fundamental guilt and pain.

It was something. Some sense of control. He'd... he'd had to reclaim himself. He'd had to take control of something. His work, his charities...

It was all about control, and Lex didn't have a lot over much that was important, but he clutched at it. A few more minutes of sitting there, and he gave up, got to his feet, and wandered into his toy room.

He didn't even think for a moment that there was anyone who could help him.

Or that would even want to.

Perry was going to demand explanations. And so was Lois. But Clark was left wondering what exactly he could say to either of them. Except that he was following the case and he'd written his story. Could he tell them about the case? Or just that Dominic had been arrested, what crime, and...

He rather absently did a few rescues on his way to the Daily Planet. He had to report to Perry if nothing else. He could say what was official at the least.

There was a girl found in a dumpster overnight. They're pursuing her killer. And that was it. So it was really better to concentrate on the fantastic article that he'd written. Best smush story ever, right?

Except that when he finally wandered into the office, Lois bolted to her feet and seemed absolutely *fuming*

"Kent, where've you been?! Do you know what's going on?"

"Uh." It was best to plead vagueness if not ignorance. "Maybe?"

He braced himself to weather the storm of her temper.

"The police swooped down on Luthor Towers and escorted out Dominic Senatori -- on what his attorney says is unfounded charges of child abuse. So why haven't you called in already if you were down at the crime lab?!"

"I've spoken to Perry," Clark said evenly. Sometimes the rumor network astounded even him. "He knows about it. And the deal I've made with the CSI team."

"Okay, and that deal is....?" Lois asked as she back stepped towards his desk, still staying in his face as he walked.

"I get to follow the case. Alongside them," Clark replied suppressing a smirk because that would send Lois up the wall. "I was... shadowing the team that found the lead."

"You.... Ah, I *knew* I should've demanded to take that with you!" Lois stomped her foot, then stormed all the way over to her desk, which was right beside his.

"Yeah, well someone didn't want to do smush, and it involved being up all night." Clark sat down a moment. "I need to get something to Perry and check we're not crossing any lines."

"Dammit. At least... tell me if any of them were interesting?"

"All of them." Clark grinned at her. "Did you know Lex Luthor works there?" It was a little cruel of him to drop it into conversations like that but really it was too good an opportunity to miss.

"Lex... Luthor?" Lois stared a little. "The Luthor Family hermit? No. No way. That guy *can't* be working a nightshift, Clark."

"He works there as one of their longest serving and most skillful members," Clark replied. "I was pretty surprised too, but we actually got on okay."

"So... he's not pure evil?" Lois asked a little skeptically as she sat down. "Spill, Kent. I need to know about this."

"He's as far from being what we know as a Luthor as you can imagine," Clark replied. "The guy does the DNA profiling and tech work there, and in his spare time he runs a children's charity, and... uh, an orphanage with Bruce Wayne and a charity for abused women as well. He collects LEGO."

Lois was staring at Clark and it was sort of nice to be on the receiving rather than the giving end of one of those stares. "Wow. I really am having trouble believing this, Clark. This can't be the same party hard wild boy that this newspaper used to be familiar with. The guy dropped off the radar a while ago, and we all just figured he was quietly nursing his cocaine habit."

"He had a life altering experience. He was in a car accident, and nearly died," Clark replied. "That was when he walked away from the Luthor Way. C'mon, you have to agree I'm a pretty good judge of character."

"Maybe a little too soft," Lois ventured. "I really can't believe it. Maybe he saw a sucker coming and... don't you think it's suspicious that Luthor's cronies keep getting off? They've got a Luthor in the crime lab..."

"Hmm. Yeah, aside from the fact that Lex Luthor gets pulled from a case that involves anyone Luthor connected," Clark countered. "He's pulled from the Senatori investigation for that reason I guess. Now that is an exclusive bit of information. The head of department doesn't want the LuthorCorp lawyers to be able to use any hint of improper process."

Lois made a tsking noise. "I envy you, Kent. First big story... don't botch it. And be *well* aware that I'm coming at it from the other side. I will find out what's going on."

"Look, I'll tell you this, though there is no evidence yet," Clark said. "They seemed to believe that it wasn't an isolated thing. That it might be shown to link to something big."

Lois' lips curled. "Don't screw this one up Kent -- that's all I'll warn you. Go on and talk to Perry, he's ready to chew you a new one."

"Why? I sent him the breaking news and told him I would be in as soon as I could?" Clark frowned a little.

"Apparently it wasn't soon enough?" Lois offered with an idle shrug.

"It's never soon enough," Clark replied. "I better go in. If I'm going back in tonight I'm going to have to get some sleep at some point."

"Wish me luck."

"Good luck. While you're shadowing the pros, I'll be digging in the ditches." Was she trying to make him feel *guilty*?

"Well, we cover all angles then," Clark said giving her an unrepentant grin and knocked on Perry's door.

"Kent." Perry didn't seem frothing at the mouth when he looked up at Clark. "Close the door behind you, and sit down. I want to know what I can publish."

Lois did have a tendency to exaggerate sometimes. "I believe we can publish everything bar anything that will impede the investigation Chief," Clark said eagerly. "But there's a lot of speculation around the edges which I know about that we can't publish. The head of the CSI unit seemed to be cooperative, so we could probably get some decent statements from him in time for the morning edition. Bang up some up to date ones. They've taken Lex Luthor off the case."

"It only makes sense, since Senatori was busted in Luthor Towers. Trying to keep it a tight case?" Perry suggested. "This is your shot, Clark. Follow it well, and I can guarantee you that you won't be fetching coffee for Lois anymore. You're a good writer, and you can go places if you try."

"I intend to, sir." He shifted slightly. "Off the record sir? It's going to be huge, and it's going to get very messy. Lionel Luthor called Lex almost immediately to harass Lex over it. No one there thinks it's an isolated incident and that means... well, maybe LuthorCorp is involved."

Perry sucked in a slow breath. "Right. If there's chance that those bastards can finally get nailed..." He'd never been ashamed of his hatred of Lionel Luthor, and seemed ambivalent towards the younger Luthors. "Why don't you give me your article on the unit, Kent."

"Here's the hard copy, Chief," Clark said, passing it over. "And I just forwarded you the electronic version as I came in."

"Fantastic. Now..." Perry cleared his throat a little. "I want you on this Lex Luthor like white on rice. Got me?"

"I'm getting closer to him. I think you'll be surprised, Chief," Clark said. "He's not like the other Luthors. Chloe called him the White Sheep of the Luthor family. So far, that's a pretty fair assessment."

"Uh-huh." Perry gave Clark a skeptical glance. "Look. You know the stories about Lucas Luthor? The rumors of drugs, wild sex parties, all of that? We had those stories *confirmed*, with hard witnesses when Lex Luthor was a kid. So maybe he's off the wagon, but I'd still keep an eye on him. If you broke some sort of corruption scandal within the CSI... that'd be fantastic."

"And if I broke Lionel Luthor as mastermind of a child pornography ring, how would that stand up?"

His editor sucked in a slow breath. "Well. That'd stand up pretty damn well, Kent. Is this... what your intuition tells you is going on?"

"That's considerably more likely than the corruption business Chief. It's why they're being so cautious. You'll be lucky to get anything out of them officially on this. But yeah, that's what they're aiming for. A big target," Clark leaned forward as he said so. "You're right, Lex is involved somehow, but I think more as a victim than anything else."

His eyebrows went up a little but he didn't backpedal. "Well. Stay on him, Kent. Go on, get out of my office. I have to edit this now."

Clark grinned a little. Maybe now, he could get a couple of hours sleep or something and then get a patrol in before his next visit to CSI. "I won't let you down, Chief."

"I trust you won't. But you look like hell, so go home. You need to be fresh for tonight."

"I will be," he said and with a smile headed out of the door. A big story, one that would make a difference and it was all his.

Not Lois's, no, but finally his. He had a lot of stories planned, including the one where he... railed against himself. Lois wouldn't appreciate that, but people needed to know that he couldn't be there to fix every ill in the world. Sometimes he had to sleep. Or drive people home.

Who knew, one day he might even have a life of his own.

There wasn't going to be an easy way to do this, and Winters was aware that there should be no easy way to look at this sort of problem. The time when he could look at this sort of evidence and find it 'easy' was the time he should be packing in the whole thing. He respected Lex, he liked him and so many of the idiosyncrasies that he had worked around and noted, now became starkly obvious in their origin.

The man's apparent hatred of being touched unless he initiated it himself. His obsessive behavior about food and drink -- there was enough detail on the glossy prints in front of him to make out the dilated pupils that indicated drugs. His involvement in children's charities, the relaxants. Jesus.

He looked at the pictures again numbly, even as he waited for Lex to come to his office.

It took a while; Lex was running a little late, which just wasn't like him, and when he came in, he looked tired and ragged instead of his usual refreshed self.

Too little sleep hadn't helped the situation. Lex had tried a hot shower to soothe his nerves, but that had only made him sleepier. A quick coffee shop latte on his way in was helping, and he nursed it as he walked towards what he suspected was his doom. He didn't stop to talk, didn't look at any of his coworkers. Didn't want to.

His fingers were a little sore from clicking too many tiny plastic bricks together.

"Lex, my office?" Winters called out even as he entered. "Need to talk to you."

"I know." He took a sip from the edge of his plastic topped cup, and veered a little to head directly to Winters' office. At least it wasn't the interrogation room. That was something. Then it would've meant that people were walking past him, staring, wondering what the fuck *he'd* done.

That was undoubtedly why Winters was doing it this way. The older man closed the door securely behind him and closed the blinds which everyone knew was code for 'Enter only if the place is on fire'.

"Take a seat Lex. I asked for permission to get your statement personally," he said as he returned to his chair. "I'll be doing it by the book."

"Great." Lex sat down across from Winters. By the book could be pretty harsh, pretty cold. Everyone knew it, but Lex... didn't care. Couldn't care about much. He'd kept it secret for so long, and now it was out there. And his father was threatening him. The urge to just... kill the man was overwhelming, except Lex didn't do that. Lex didn't kill, didn't hurt people, didn't cause other people harm. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Okay, then," Winters turned on the tape recorder rapidly giving the preliminaries of date and time and relevant investigation. "… Head of Metropolis CSI, Frederick Winters interviewing CSI DNA specialist, Alexander J. Luthor, known as Lex." He cleared his throat. "Lex, these are the photographs recovered from Dominic Senatori's apartment. Please can you tell me if you recognize them?"

"Yes, sir, I recognize them." If Winters was going to play by the book, so was Lex. He was going to answer only the question asked, no embellishments. If he did any of that, he knew he'd crack, and it'd all tumble out.

"For the record, the photographs are those in Evidence packs 13 through 17," Winters said clinically. "Lex, please take the first pack and identify who is in the photographs if you can."

His stomach was sinking fast as he reached for the manilla-paper envelope, and undid the fastener to dump it out into his hand. A thick stack of glossy eight by tens, that he hardly needed to leaf through. Or hardly could because his hands were shaking. "That's me. At age eight."

"You're sure about that?" Winters asked leaning forward. There was a considerable difference in appearance, not the least of it being the child's thick, vibrant red hair. But he had recognized them on the scene, because the eyes were the same even before he had reached the other packs. But procedure had to be followed.

"It was before the meteor strike in... in Smallville." Which he also remembered vividly. Being scared to death on that helicopter ride, but more because he thought he was going to be traded off again. It wasn't just heights that had scared him. And then the sky falling...

"Do you recall the events that lead to these pictures being taken?" Winters asked carefully. "Who was involved?"

He set the pictures down, and cross his arms tightly over his chest, trying to ignore that his own face was staring back at him. "It... I was on holiday from school. And my father was talking to me about money and... the usual shit. And then he told me to be good for Dominic. And we drove over to Dominic's h.... house..." Fuck. He wasn't going to fall apart. Wasn't. "Dad left me at the door, and Dominic pulled me into the house he was renting. He pulled all the blinds. The living room furniture had been pushed to the sides, and he had a tripod in the corner. He... told me to undress, and started to take pictures."

"Had your father told you what was going to happen?" Winters asked frowning slightly as he concentrated.

"No. It wasn't the... first time. It was just the first time there was a camera. Before that, Dominic had always.... touched me." Petted him. Straightened out his curly hair and patted his backside. 'Encouraged' him to sit on his lap whenever he visited Lionel outside of work.

"Did he touch you intimately on that day, or prior to that time?" Winters asked. "I define intimately as anything that the courts could not consider to be accidental or merely 'affectionate'?"

Lex sat there, quietly for a moment, and then quickly flipped through the photographs. He'd been made to look at them a hundred times, maybe more; he knew the order, he knew what was in there. A picture near the back was turned around, shown to Winters. It didn't have the composition of the others, the careful camera work, because the camera man had merely left the camera standing on the tripod, so Lex could suck his cock.

He still remembered how much he'd hated that taste. "Could this be considered 'affectionate'?"

"Not in my interpretation," Winters cleared his throat. "For the record, Lex is indicating a picture from Evidence pack 13 that has the child, indicated to be himself, in the position of oral sex with the man identified as Dominic Senatori. Lex, did this sort of interaction occur prior to this time? If it did do you recall when?"

"No. Not... like that. Before, it would've been... taken as aff.... affection." He laid the picture back into the pile, then turned it face down on the table; he didn't want to see anymore.

"Can you tell me what your reaction was at the time?" Winters asked watching his reactions carefully.

"I was scared. I tried to fight, but he stopped me and told me that I needed to do it." Lex folded his arms over his chest again, almost hugging himself. "Eventually... I started to cry."

"You made it evident that this was not something you wanted?" Winters nodded in satisfaction. "Do you recall if you told him 'No' specifically?"

Lex shrugged tensely. "Not specifically. I said a lot of things. 'No' was probably in there. I was *eight*. I wanted to be at home watching cartoons, not... not having my first... first sexual experience."

"Was it only Dominic Senatori who was present or were there others at this stage?" Winters queried.

"Just Dominic." Lex worked his jaw for a moment, trying to breath slowly, quietly, to calm himself down.

"Are there any details you can recall from this session that might be relevant with the perspective of knowing that what was occurring was illegal? Do you believe it was for his personal gratification?" Winters asked.

Eyes on the edge of the table, Lex shrugged his shoulders. "That was. But later... he'd make me look at the pictures with other people. And then they'd take me home with them to... do things."

"Would you be able to name or recognize any of these people?" Winters asked getting ready to take down direct notes.

"Not many of them. The worst, but..." He sank back into the chair a little, mouth tight. "There were a lot of them. It'd be like picking out people that you'd shaken hands with over your lifetime. You really... only remember the people who've crushed your palm."

"Understood. A bit later I'm going to ask you to make a list of those you can remember, okay?" Winters asked. "Please look in the other evidence packs and confirm the identity of the people in them, and approximate time frames."

"I know what's in them," Lex murmured. "The next one is.... Dominic fucking me. After I lost my hair. Morgan... Morgan Edge was behind the camera. Then it's Morgan and Dominic, and... they..." He sank down a little more in the chair. "They're both. And the last one is a video. It... They made me watch them all, look at them all."

If he had looked up he would have seen the sympathy in Winters eyes. "Why did they do that, Lex?"

"Because they wanted to be sure... that I knew what I was to them. I was their whore. I made them money." His voice broke on 'whore', and he had to suck in a shaking breath.

"They actually made a point of making you know that?" Winters said keenly.

"Frequently." He bit his bottom lip, eyes locked on the edge of the table. He was shaking, just faintly, vibrating with it; and if he moved, Lex was sure he was going to shatter to pieces. "And it seemed pretty accurate at the time. Not... not many twelve year olds are so well used they can, can take two cocks up their ass at the same time. Or a soda can. I..."

"I... have to ask Lex, because they will claim it -- the events depicted in some of the more extreme photographs were things that happened to you?" Winters asked in a gentle voice. "Not things that could be claimed to have been graphically manipulated?"

"They happened," Lex muttered bitterly. "Children... were harmed in the making of those photographs."

"You personally... and others that you were aware of?" Winters asked.

"Yes. Sometimes there'd... be a party. And more than one kid. Maybe a boy for the ones who wanted that, and a girl for the ones who wanted that. It..." Lex sucked in a quiet breath, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. He wasn't sure he could go on. He'd have to, but he didn't want to.

"Did you know any of them by name? Who they were?" Winters questioned, having to clear his throat..

"I don't know any of them by name. I..." He laughed a little, voice cracking again. "It wasn't a social gathering. It wasn't like we talked. We were the entertainment."

"Easy, Lex, easy," Winters seemed to realize he was pushing a little close to the edge and gave him a moment. "Was your father aware of what went on?"

Yes. Yes, god-dammit, he *knew*. He knew that every time he gave Lex to Dominic he'd come home broken, but... "No. I don't know." Let the evidence speak. He... wasn't evidence. He was just what was left behind, years later.

Winters wasn't stupid. "There must have been physical damage, Lex. Particularly in the later times. How could he be unaware of that?"

Silence from Lex. "We went to the hospital once. And he used to send me in to... explain it myself. The woman did a rape kit on me. I was... twelve. When father went back to see what was taking so long, he... threw a fit. Maybe he knew. I don't know. We never discussed it, so I can't say. You can look at my medical records from when I was eight to when I was thirteen, and see that the injuries were... usually along the same lines." He gave a quiet bark of a laugh, still sinking in on himself in his discomfort. "Once a doctor demanded to know how I was... getting those injuries. I don't know what happened to him. My dad said it was youthful indiscretion, and cucumbers."

"So there is a trail in public medical records -- that's good, Lex," Winters said. "You said before, about you being regarded as making them money -- do you think that your father and Dominic were involved in larger scale abuse as a business?"

"I don't know what to think. I try to not think about it much. When Dominic lost interest in me, I was happy, and turned my back on the whole thing." It wasn't the end of it, of course. He'd wanted... affection. Someone to love him, and had then self-perpetuated it. And done drugs. Neither had filled that hole in for him. Work and the charities came closest, and wasn't that a reason to keep holding it all together? He was doing something for someone.

"Do you believe that it has affected you significantly?" Winters said looking at him.

"I take Diazepam for my nerves. I... can't handle the *idea* of having an intimate relationship with someone. I haven't had sex in thirteen years. I can't ride in a car with someone, I can't eat out... I can't do things normal people can *do* without having a nervous breakdown because of the shit that Dominic did to me."

"Understood." Winters exhaled. "Are you willing to be a witness when the case comes to trial? Or will your condition prevent you from that?"

He sucked in another shaky breath of air. 'Condition' -- it wasn't just one thing, so Lex guessed that Winters meant him. What he was. As a whole. And that was pretty messed up, but it was also pretty true. "I can witness. If I'm needed. But just on the evidence."

"Thank you, Mr. Luthor. If we need more evidence, we will recall you for interview. Interview ends at 10:33 pm." Winters turned off the recorder and sat back with an exhalation. "You okay, Lex? I'm sorry to put you through that..."

"Don't apologize." He shifted, trying to sit more upright, trying to control his face, his motions, everything he could.

"Somebody should," Winters said frankly. " Do you want me to sign you off for the rest of the shift? It doesn't look like you got any rest today at all."

He shook his head a little. "Dad dropped by around... three? Woke me up. I couldn't get back to sleep."

"Your father paid you a visit? I thought he rarely contacted you face to face?" Winters looked concerned.

"He was concerned about Dominic being arrested," Lex murmured.

"Did he make any intimidation tactics, Lex?" His boss was evidently concerned.

"I don't know. Maybe? I was really tired and wasn't really paying any attention."

"You're being evasive, Lex. I can understand why, but..." Winters paused. "Look, I need to know how you want to handle this in the department."

"I don't know." Lex shifted, trying to sit up straighter. "I really... don't know. I'm off the case. The others have... what, already seen it?"

"So far only Adam and Chloe have seen it. I've sworn them to secrecy until I could consult with you. But once it hits a full investigation..." Winters cleared his throat. "Do you want me to call a meeting and let them know or would you rather seal with them on your own terms?"

"I think maybe I should just quit."

"No, Lex." Winters didn't even hesitate in denying that as a possibility. "Why? Do you think they won't understand? Believe me, they will."

"They can't understand." Lex swallowed, looking down at his hands as he tried to calm them in his lap instead of crossing them over his chest. "No one understands. You... you really can't until you've been there. People either... look at you like you're still a victim. Or they just don't know what to do, and things get awkward. Or things get awkward because they think it's your fault. And... and I know that it's not. But I've known about it for, for years. I never, never said anything. If, if I'd done something, that girl..."

"Lex, you were a victim, you had no power to do anything then, and it is part of the symptomology of abuse that speaking out is nigh on impossible," Winters said. "Listen. Most of them have their own stories. Good people don't judge. Just... don't quit, Lex. If you do that, they have already begun to win."

He shook his head, still looking at his hands. Knowing, mentally was one thing, but the mind and the heart didn't usually agree on things. And Lex lived on instinct. It made him happy, it kept him safe... He used his mind for work, but not himself. "I just wanted to forget. I liked how things have been."

"In some ways, I wish that could be the case for your sake," Winters replied gently. "But it's happened, Lex and we have to move forward on it. You have a choice. Stay, and be supported by us, or take time off. I am not going accept your resignation."

He sighed, and shifted the chair back a little. "I'm going to go home. It's the end of the week for me, anyway. So..." Four days off. He could find something to do, somewhere to go. Even if it was just to get out of Metropolis and drive somewhere. Hide somewhere. He had, what? Wednesday, Thur.. shit. Thursday was tomorrow and it was Thanksgiving.

Sometimes Lex wondered where his sense of time went. "I'll be back for my shift on Sunday."

Winters nodded. "Understood Lex. You have plans?"

"No." He wasn't going to lie to his supervisor; at that point, lying would've taken too much effort out of Lex. "I... I've got a friend in Gotham. I might go see him. I don't know."

"You didn't answer me about what you wanted to do about telling the others?" Winters pressed.

"Just... tell them. So they know what's going on. I don't want to explain." He stood up. Maybe he could just turn his back on the years of accomplishment he'd managed. Stop at a club on his way out of town. And just fuck it all up.

"Go back, get some sleep Lex, I'll tell them for you," Winters said, nodding.

"Great. If... you need me? I'll leave my cell on. Just in case." Lex half-mindfully pushed his chair back into place, and turned to leave. Or maybe he wouldn't do that at all. Maybe he was too much of a coward to manage that.

"Thank you, Lex. And when you get back, we'll sort out some counseling for you, as well," Winters said, watching him leave.

Counseling. He *had* a therapist, the perfect therapist, the one who didn't actually give him much advice. And Lex liked that. He liked to be left alone. He'd... put himself back together decently. He functioned. He did things. Most importantly, no one was poking around in his old wounds. "Have a good weekend."

Winters nodded and let him leave, watching him go and obviously preparing himself to tell the rest of the team before rumors ran rife. Lex would come back to everyone knowing what had happened to him.

Assuming he came back.

He wasn't sure what he'd do. Where he'd turn. If his life were one of those old movies, he would've already had someone at his side. Someone who loved him and would fix everything for him. Just... make everything better.

Life wasn't like the movies. But Lex was struck by the urge, as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket and pushed open the doors of the department with one hand, to go home and nurse his wounds over one. Something stupid, like Casablanca. Yeah. And he could go home and not think about what the rest of his 'family' would be doing for Thanksgiving. Or think about how things had *been* before his mom had died. Before Julian. Before...

He wasn't sure there had ever been a *good* before.

No, he was just going to have to deal with this in the same way he had always done. Alone. There had been no one for him then when he most needed it. He could still remember the first time he had realized it was his father who had sold him out. He had never laid a hand on him himself, but Lex had trusted him to protect him, to fix things and he felt the shock of betrayal as keenly as if he had been stabbed and the real Alexander J. Luthor had died and all he was and ever had been since that day was a ghost of someone who had once existed.

A ghost that made the best of his life, but was suddenly very, very tired of it.

In the end, Lex hadn't even gone home to ruminate over old movies. He'd left the TV to Comedy Central, the volume low, and had wandered out of the living room to gather some things. Reorganizing of the 'nest', so to speak. But it was Lex's idea of emotional comfort, the closest he'd ever gotten to something that actually worked. People didn't work, after all. But a comfortable setup, a constantly available distraction, and something for his hands to fidget with worked for him.

So Lex Luthor sat on the floor, back against his sofa, a half-built erector-set car in front of him, and the TV playing low-taste comedy. And looked for that damn tiny allen wrench. It came as a bit of a shock to hear a knock at the door, especially considering most people in the building would be asleep at this time of night.

Two A.M. was a bad time to hear a knock on the door, and Lex didn't make an exception to that rule just because *he* was a night owl himself. He got up carefully, stepped over his work area, and neared it warily.

He could hear a muttering outside. "Some psychic cat you are... this is probably some little old ladies apartment isn't it? Jesus, look at me, talking to a cat... look I was only trying to catch you so I could ask your owner where he lived..."

There was a mew and a thump.

"Leave my... hey, no, these shoes are _new_!"

Funny. It sounded like Clark out there -- he was supposed to be shadowing the department, not out there tussling with a cat. Lex unlocked his door, and only as he was opening it did it cross his mind that it was a ploy. Possibly. Then it was too late.

It was Clark, and he was coming out second best to Del, the seemingly psychic cat with a shoe fetish. He was attempting to catch the cat even as it was playfully attacking his feet. Then he realized that Lex was watching him as he was bending down nearly tying himself in knots.

"Uh... hi, Lex..."

"Shhh." Lex put a finger to his lips, then stooped down to make a 'c'mere' gesture to that danged cat. Either Del was pretty smart or pretty stupid, but he trotted over, and Lex snagged him. "He must've gotten out."

"Yeah, I noticed." Clark lowered his voice out of deference to the time of night. "I came over, and saw him and thought maybe I could see if Mrs. Templeton was up looking for him, and I could ask which room you were in. But he took off up here and came and sat at the door so... uh, yeah I thought it was worth a shot. Um. Can I come in? I just wanted to ask you something."

Lex held onto the squirming cat, and back stepped -- just far enough to get his keys. Then he stepped out, and locked the door behind him. "We need to get Del back to his home. Then we can talk."

"Okay," Clark seemed willing to do that. "It would probably be better coming from you. She probably wouldn't remember me and I wouldn't want to scare her, but I did really want to find you."

"Don't know why," Lex murmured as he walked down the hall. Mrs. Templeton lived at the far end, on the same floor but opposite of Lex. It wasn't like the cat could've gotten *far*, because no one would've let him in the elevator, and the stairwell doors were usually closed.

"Well I'll tell you why when we are not wandering the halls at night," Clark said walking along side of him. "He was down by the garage door when I came in."

"The garage?" Lex gave the cat a little shake. "Bad Del. No one will feed you if you run away from home."

The cat mewed again and then industriously tried to eat Lex's finger.

"I don't think he was running away. I think he was attacking a paper when I saw him," Clark said with a smile. "It's along here isn't it? I remember roughly."

"Down at the end," Lex agreed quietly. Once he reached her door, he knocked -- gently, and then just a little louder.

"Who is it?" Mrs. Templeton, it appeared, was up despite the hour.

"It's Lex, Mrs. Templeton. One of my friends found Del down near the doors that go to the garage." Lex leaned up to the door, waiting for her to open it so he could give her back her squirming bundle of psychic joy.

The door was opened hastily. "Oh Lex, you're wonderful! I've been so worried about him. I just don't know how he gets out like that. He's been out since yesterday and I don't know what I would do if anything happened to him." She had her robe pulled around her and Del wriggled and jumped down. "Thank you, and your friend."

She peered a little shortsightedly at Clark, as if trying to place him.

Lex smiled a little as he stepped back.. "Glad we could help. Have a good night, ma'am."

"Bless you Lex. Come and have a cup of tea with me some time so I can thank you properly," She said as Del threaded around her ankles purring contentedly, and somewhat smugly. "At least I can get some sleep tonight. You should, too, young man."

That always sort of amused him. "I'll try. Thanks." He turned, and wasn't quite watching where Clark was, and walked into him. That was, Lex decided, a pretty stupid moment.

Clark automatically raised his hands to steady him in a semi hold, and heard Mrs. Templeton chuckling behind them as she closed the door as if she had inadvertently stumbled across two young lovers.

"Um... yeah. Sorry," Clark said awkwardly.

Lex jerked back a little, and put distance between them. Feet, and then he started to walk away. "C'mon. You're going to have to pardon the mess."

"If you'd seen my place, you wouldn't worry," Clark said striding after him to catch up. "Cleaning up is optional and only for visitors."

It wasn't that there was a 'mess'; Lex did a pretty good job of keeping his place clean. It was just that he was building in the living room, and that pile of erector set bits always seemed messy to him. "I don't have visitors. But since I can't very well talk to you out here..."

"I won't take up much time, I promise," Clark said as he waited for Lex to open the door.

Lex had to unlock it all over again, and he really wished that Clark wasn't standing so close behind him. Or if he was, that he'd just pin Lex up against a wall, warm chest against his back, and...

"It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Ah, well that's kinda what I'm here to ask you about," Clark went on, unaware of the effect he was having on Lex.

It was probably for the best. That was why Lex didn't sleep with people anymore. He just... fucked things up. Couldn't handle another human being getting that close. He could do *sex*, was pretty sure he could handle that again, but after... Well, after was just like before. There hadn't been a good before, and there wasn't anything Lex had found that he could call a good 'after'.

He finally got his door unlocked, then pushed it open, turning on the hall light as he stepped back to let Clark in. He had a tidy apartment, made of warm colors and rich, soothing fabrics. The sofa was suede-like, warm brown, the walls were another warm shade, the carpet a dark eggplant and soft. The TV set was still on, and Lex's erector set was still where he'd left it, albeit it was now lit. Past the living room, Clark could see the kitchen, and a hallway that led off to another couple of rooms.

"You'll have to excuse me for not guessing what you mean."

Clark closed the door behind him. "They shut down external input on the case until the auditors have gone over Senatori's accounts and he's interrogated. The only thing that needed doing that I could deal with was the autopsy related details. Anyway, the upshot is that my Thanksgiving holiday is back on." He took a deep breath. "And I spoke to Mom and Dad and they've asked me to see if you want to join us for the Holiday. Dad would really like to see you again."

Lex leaned against the arm of his sofa, looking at Clark stand there in the little entryway. "You know how to make an offer, Clark. I... would really like to thank your Dad for what he did for me."

"My Mom would love to have chance to show off her cooking as well," Clark replied smiling at him. "I know it's a bit sudden and... I know you're likely to be a bit uncertain about me. I brought a picture of my Dad so you could check and see for sure that it was the right man. "

He reached in his pocket and handed it over. "I... I don't think you should be alone right now."

The picture was... that was *him*. That was Jonathan, apparently Jonathan Kent, who'd saved him. Saved his life, and... saved him from a fate that Lex had long-since decided was worse than death. "That's him." Lex rubbed his thumb over the picture, looking thoughtful. "When... I went into that guard rail, I remember thinking, 'I'm going to die'. And then I thought, 'Maybe that'll be all right.' I... was at rock bottom, Clark. And it just took a... a few words from your dad to change that."

And maybe he was at rock bottom again. Lex wasn't the best judge of things like that.

"My dad does always seem to have the right words. So does my Mom," Clark replied. "Keep it, I have others. Do you think you want to come?"

"Did Winters send you?" Lex asked as he shifted, standing again to pocket the picture. There weren't any pictures up in the apartment; no photographs, no captured memories.

"No, he gave the department the talk. I didn't say you'd mentioned a little yesterday," Clark replied. "I'd left the message with my parents about it all in general before going in, and then I gave them a call later. They were the ones who suggested it. Winters didn't send me. When I said I might try and get a message to you, the others sent some messages for you as well. If you were asleep I was going to put them and an invitation under the door."

Lex almost smiled. "Work nightshift for enough years, and trying to sleep at night is like a normal person trying to sleep during the day. How, how'd the meeting go? I didn't want to be there." But he still wanted to know how it went. "Why don't you sit down?" He moved a little to brush some of his toys out of the way.

"Thank you." Clark had deliberately waited to be invited, not wanting to ruin things; he waited for a clear patch and then sat. "Yeah. They were pretty shocked. On your behalf. I didn't think Adam could look any grimmer, but he managed it. Ash... Ash, well I thought he was going to pass out or something."

That was a little strange, Lex decided. He shifted, sitting on the carpet, and leaned back on his palms. It was a better position, as far as he was concerned, than sitting stiffly beside Clark on the sofa.

"Why?"

"Well, I think he put it in the note, but he told us in the break room afterwards so..." Clark looked at him. "You know his limp? His scars?"

Lex could almost feel his stomach sinking, but he nodded.

"Not the same as yours, but an abusive father. Pretty much all his life. Not sexual but physical. He said it's why he sometimes has problem with authority and freaks out a bit. Apparently, the end of it was when he tried to run away and his father caught him, and nearly killed him. By the time he woke up and could walk even remotely, he discovered his father was dead. He still can't remember exactly what happened, but he doesn't know what happened to his mother either. He's never seen either of them from that night."

"She probably killed him and left town," Lex said without hesitating. It seemed a probable circumstance. Maybe... maybe the best circumstance, given the situation.

"Mm, that was my thought, but Ash has never been a hundred percent sure that he didn't kill him, and then something happened to his mother. His memory was messed up by the head injury," Clark replied, exhaling in a slight sigh. "Anyway, I think... I'm not sure what he wanted to say, to be honest. Maybe that he understood it a little. That he was sorry. I don't know. You'll have to read his note. It just surprised me. He's been so... well, you know what he's usually like better than I do."

"Ash is hard-nosed about things," Lex murmured, "Because that's how he copes. In general. Thanks for coming by. I wasn't sure what they'd... think." He'd have to read these notes in private, mull over them. Maybe things wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought it would be. Maybe he just needed to step back for a while. "It's already Thanksgiving Day, you know. Not by normal standards, of course, but."

"Will you come? I'd offer to take you, but you'd probably feel more comfortable with your own car there, right?" Clark took that as a dismissal, but smiled down at Lex.

"Usually, yeah." Lex's mouth moved a little, and he stayed where he was on the carpet. "But I don't know the way."

"If you want me to go with you, we could take your car?" Clark perked up at that thought.

"You just want to drive the James Bond car." Mock accusation as he sat up a little. "Yeah. It's a workable plan. Do you want to... come back in a few hours, try to get some sleep, and then head out?"

"Sure." Clark didn't try and push anything like suggesting he stay there. "You won't need to pack much. It's a farm and we have old stuff around."

Lex lifted an eyebrow just a little. "Oh. You mean it's.... longer than just for dinner?"

"Well yeah. I meant the holiday." Clark looked embarrassed. "Um. Sorry, I thought I'd said that a bit clearer. It can be just dinner if you want. Mom's making up the spare room just in case though."

He shifted again, almost restless. Staying at some else's house was something he hadn't ever done for *fun*. "No, that sounds... that sounds great. I was thinking of heading out of town for the weekend, anyway. It'll keep Dad from trying to contact me again."

"Well, I'll tell you something, he'd have a fit if he knew you were at our house," Clark smiled. "Look, they'll understand, I'll understand if you want to duck out early on us okay? I'll get a ride back if you want to come back early. But, I'd better get going. How long do you reckon it will take to drive to Smallville in your car?"

"Two, three hours? Just let me know when you want to start. I'll pop some pills and try to put myself on a normal human schedule," Lex smiled as he started to stand up. "I probably need to put my toys away, too."

"I'll come by around ten, then. Mom usually does the dinner for middle of the afternoon. It takes until the evening to eat it," Clark replied with a genuine smile. "Don't worry, if you need to sleep there in the afternoon, that's fine. Dad does, too. He gets up early for the cows."

He stepped towards the door and smiled tentatively at the other man. "I'll see you then, okay?"

Lex got to his feet, too, still keeping a little distance between himself and Clark. "Yeah. That sounds great." It did, too. Home-cooked food, a place to be for a couple of days that wasn't quiet and lonely...

Maybe things could look up again. "Oh! The notes."

"Oh yeah!" Clark patted his pockets and drew out a selection of envelopes and passed them over. "Here, I'll leave you to read them in peace."

Lex smiled just a little, then reached past Clark to open the door for him. Hopefully the psychic cat wouldn't be lurking outside again to make love to Clark's shoes. "Thanks. I'll see you at ten, Clark."

Clark turned and nodded, smiling his eyes bright and more green than he remembered from before. He was a little too close but instead of leaning forward or doing anything threatening, he withdrew his presence and left Lex in peace.

For a moment, Lex lingered in the doorway, watching him walk away. Strange. Clark Kent... was very strange, and Lex wasn't sure what he was going to do with the guy, but he was sure that he wanted to do *something* with him.

Once the door was closed and locked again, Lex moved to sit where Clark had sat on the sofa. He could probably look over the notes before he put things away, got his alarm clock, and took some sleeping pills. There was still a lingering warmth there, and an unfamiliar scent. He was very aware of those things, more so than most people and though it was strange, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

He looked at the envelopes, and recognized the hand writing of his colleagues. Every one. Even the ones he would have rated as indifferent to his fate.

Theresa. Adam. Possibly Eddie, but he and Eddie got along pretty well. They were the 'fun' ones of the lab, always active, always doing things. Maybe it was best to start with Chloe's note -- he'd always liked her -- and move from there.

He opened the envelope and scanned over the short note.

'Lex,

I don't know if there are ever going to be words adequate to what I felt when we saw the pictures. The others were bad, but I guess not knowing them personally makes it easier to be objective. When I saw those, I nearly went to pieces. Yeah, me. The one who boasted she could out-tough Adam and Klaus. I don't know what I can do, but I'd do anything to help. You should know that, but sometimes it has to be said right?

'If it helps, I can vouch for Clark, and I hope you do take a break. But, if you don't give me a call and we can meet up and talk or something.

'See you on Sunday -- if not before --

'Chloe'

Short, but... that was more support, more warming thought from a coworker than he'd ever gotten from his own father. Lex read it again, then laid it aside, flattened out. He was going to keep that note, all of them. He worked with... with really good people. And he'd known them all for years. Winters was right in not letting him resign on a whim. He'd never find another job where he got along so well with everyone. And they'd always tolerated his oddities, his occasionally *too* upbeat attitude.

Adam's letter was next.

'Lex,

'You weren't the only one nearly pulled from this case. I was an inch from killing the fucking bastard. If Winters hadn't been there I seriously don't know what I would have done. Your father is a Machiavellian sadistic bastard and I am going to run him into the ground for what he has done. And Senatori is never going to see daylight again. We'll get all of them. Every one of the fuckers, I swear it. And not just because you're one of our own.

'Adam'

He could almost imagine Adam's facial expressions, and it was good to know that someone cared, that they all cared. There were who knew how many people out there, just like him, hurt by Dominic and Morgan. Maybe better, maybe worse. Maybe they didn't have anyone at all, not even coworkers to support them. Maybe some of them had killed themselves. Lex had contemplated it a time or two, but was too much of a coward.

They, the people involved, needed to go down for a *lot* of people. Not just him. They needed to go down for all the people they'd harmed, for that little girl, for... a lot of things.

Lex flattened out Adam's letter, laid it atop of Chloe's, and picked up Ash's.

'Shit, I don't know where to start. I guess it's a common thing right? To think that you're the only one who anything happened to. Because you know no one is ever going to understand. I'm not going to insult you by saying that I understand exactly what happened to you, because what happened to me was different. But perhaps some of the feelings are the same, I don't know.

'My father used to beat the crap out of me. Some of my first memories were of that. I pretty much grew up with it, and we moved around enough that the hospitals I ended up in were pretty different each time. I think I tried to tell someone once, and soon learned that was a really bad idea. I don't think it can be described to someone who hasn't experienced something like it, but there's a feeling, you know? Of betrayal and guilt as if somehow you feel guilty for the betrayal that's happening to you. That somehow you must be responsible for it. I still feel that.

'My father nearly killed me physically when I was nearly 18, and my mother disappeared. Somehow, he got killed on that night and I spent about sixteen days in a coma.

'I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say Lex. I think it might be apologizing in that weird way I feel I have to do sometimes. You know, for anything. Maybe it's just to say you're not alone. Because that's the worst of all isn't it? Growing up and _knowing_ no one could help you.

'Breaks nearly over, gotta get back to work and Kent is leaving. So. Maybe we'll talk or something? I won't be such a smart mouthed shit if we do, I promise.

'Ash'

He was going to have to talk to Ash. Just to... commiserate. Or to let him know that it was probably pretty close. At least, for that feeling of knowing that there wasn't such a thing as help. No matter what you tried. Looking for help just made things worse.

Lex read through the other letters, carefully flattening each one and then taking them all with him when he put his erector set away in the 'toy room'. He'd work on that car more when he came back. He needed to get batteries, anyway.

Eventually, he wandered back into the living room, having changed into pajamas, taken a couple of sleeping pills, and set an alarm clock for eight. He set the alarm on top of the papers, set up his sleeping bag cocoon for the second night in a row, and drifted into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

For once he was expecting the knock at the door promptly at ten in the morning. He'd even managed to pack and he had found with a sense of mild amazement that the thought of leaving his apartment did not inspire him with cold dread. In fact, he was actually feeling a sense of anticipation which was unusual enough an emotion for him to actually wonder what it was.

It took a minute, and he felt pretty stupid once it had sunk in. Still. The idea of skipping town to Smallville seemed pretty good; he'd called the charities, said he was going to be out of touch for a few days, but his cell was on for absolute emergencies. That knock, eight hours after the first one, was a pretty good sound as far as Lex was concerned.

Until he actually set his suitcase down by the door and then opened it.

It wasn't Clark as he suspected but his father. Again.

"Lex, glad to see you're at least awake and..." He paused a moment. "Were you intending on going somewhere Lex?

Not only was he going somewhere, but he was dressed casually well and was pretty awake. He was going to have to be, just to get through the ride. "Actually, yes. I'm heading out of town for the weekend."

"That's not at all wise," Lionel said frowning at him. "I was coming over to take you to breakfast so we could talk. And it is Thanksgiving after all. Surely family commitments take precedence." It was expected that they would, at least.

Take him to breakfast. Lex hadn't eaten out with his father in years; the last time hadn't been a trade off, but his nerves had twisted themselves so badly that he'd had to throw up and then leave. Why would he want to put himself through that again?

No, it was time to be selfish and think about what was best for him. "Father... I'm sorry that I'm missing Thanksgiving, but I really need to get out of town for a few days."

"Come now, my boy, you and I know that you don't have any real plans don't we?" Lionel reached to take hold of his arm, his voice a marvel of patronizing inflection. "Now why don't I just…"

"..get the hell out his life?" interrupted another voice as Clark loomed suddenly behind him, taking hold of the billionaire's arm and preventing him from touching Lex. "I don't know, Lionel, it's a constant mystery to me how you manage to be exactly where you're not wanted. I notice that hasn't improved any."

Lex cleared his voice a little. "And since the two of you have already met..." All it took was a backwards lean to grab his bags, and Lex closed the door behind him. He'd already shut down and turned off anything, a sign of probably pathetic desperation to get out of there. "I think we should probably go."

Lionel looked horrified. "You cannot *seriously* be going anywhere with... with Kent?!" He drew back to get away from Clark who was glaring with an icy blue gaze at him. "He's a *reporter* Lex! He's after a story, he'll throw you to the wolves! For God's sake son, think it through!"

"I have," Lex murmured as he turned his back to Lionel, to lock the door. "I'd rather not stick around this weekend and play twenty questions about Dominic. Wish Lucas well for me."

"Lex, don't be stupid. Perhaps it's understandable that he's gotten to you, but he's using you. What did he do? Seduce you or something? You usually have more common sense than that!" Lionel tried to push past Clark, who was standing there, blocking the man's progress like a steel bar.

"If you try to touch him again, Mr. Luthor, I might just forget my manners," Clark said, his expression set in one of cold anger. "Now excuse us, we have our own appointment to keep. Lex? You need a hand carrying that?"

"Nah, I've got it." Keys in his pockets, laptop case slung over his shoulder, and one good suitcase. He was set -- except for the fact that he knew Lionel would probably follow them all the way down to the garage. So he turned to really face Lionel, mouth tight. "He hasn't 'gotten' to me, no one has seduced anyone, and to be honest? There's no story in me, so no one's going to waste time on me for that."

"I hate to disillusion you, Lex, but he could well be using you to get back at me. Mr. Kent and I have a rather... involved history." He managed to make it sound sordid. "I'm sure it would be his style to victimize you for the purposes of revenge."

It wasn't true. His father was just... just fucking with him. That was all. Trying to fuck with his head, make him miserable. That was all. Lionel hadn't ever shown him *real* concern, not honest concern, and it didn't seem to be the time to start. "I don't believe you. Good bye."

Clark let him go ahead of him, and then followed him like a bodyguard even as Lionel called out "Lex! Lex, don't be a fool!" even as they took a sharp turn into the elevator.

Clark looked at least as wound up as he was. The reporter had lost all hints of his soft, relaxed body language. And so had Lex. His father had managed to smudge out a good mood as easy as some people snapped their fingers. Lex leaned against the far wall of the elevator, away from Clark, fingers white-knuckled around the handle of his suitcase.

"You okay?" Clark asked as the elevator door closed and they started moving. "Shit, I'm sorry. If I had been here a couple of minutes earlier we wouldn't have had that problem."

"It's okay. He has a way with words..." Lex was half-waiting for his cell phone to start ringing, but he knew for a fact that his cell phone didn't ring in the elevator.

"No kidding. He still gets to me, so I can only imagine what it is like for you," Clark said. "Faster we're away from here, the better."

"I don't even want to know what game he's playing this time," Lex sighed. The elevator finally stopped, and the doors opened into the garage. Lex almost bolted from it, heading towards his parking space. "Where'd you park your car....?"

"Over there, as close to yours as I could get. You want me to drive again?" Clark asked even as he went to grab his own laptop and case from the trunk of his rather beat up looking car.

The red Ford escort, Lex decided, had seen better times. And had maybe once upon a time been washed and waxed, but even that speculation was a dubious one. "Could you? We need to get out of here before my father gets down the elevator..." Even as he said that, he could see the doors opening.

God help him. There wasn't such a thing as shaking Lionel off when Lionel wanted to talk. Probably putting it off was making it worse for him.

Clark held out his hand for the keys to be tossed over and moved with surprising haste, throwing in the luggage and sliding in to the driver's seat. He had the ignition turned even as Lex was sliding into the seat next to him. "You in?"

Lex had been staring like a deer in the headlights for a moment, and that jostled him into doing more than just standing with the door open. He got in, closing the door behind him in the same motion, and hastily buckled his seatbelt. "Drive. Hopefully he won't have vandalized your car while we're gone."

It was like the getaway from the scene of a crime, with Clark almost making the tires screech in their effort to leave. They made it out safe and Clark seemed to relax as soon as they joined mainstream traffic.

"Close one," he exhaled. "You can relax now."

It had to be easy for Clark to say. Lex just settled into his seat, breathing a little unsteadily. "I don't even want to know what he needed to say to me so urgently."

"Maybe he's just trying to get you off balance or something," Clark said and paused for a long moment. "You don't believe any of what he said, do you?"

"I haven't listened to him in years." Lex reached forwards to pop open the glove compartment, and in among with his registration papers, and some maps, there was a bottle of his pills. He desperately needed a couple. "It just... makes me uneasy."

"Still, he obviously upsets you," Clark glanced across at him. "Do you need to take those? Maybe if we talked it would help or something?"

He hadn't even gotten as far as opening the cap, but he still shut the glove compartment, holding onto the bottle. "I don't know. I just... I'm waiting for my cell to ring. And for it to be him."

"Then turn off the phone," Clark said patiently, stating the obvious. "If anyone needs to get you from work or something, they can get hold of me. They know where you are, and Chloe knows my home number as well as my mobile. Remove the source of stress. Talk to me about something. Anything."

Anything. Sure, anything. But the whole reason why he hadn't been at work the night before was looming in front of Lex like a huge awkward elephant. He didn't know what to do, and... that was why he was such a failure when it came to interacting. A little stress, and he froze up entirely. "Okay, you have a point. Let me just... leave a message with Bruce. I told the charities to call my cell if something came up, so..." If he didn't reverse that order somehow, give another option, then he couldn't guiltlessly turn off his cell.

"Sure. It's only a suggestion Lex, you don't have to do what I say," Clark said with a faint smile.

"No, it's a good idea." He just... had explained himself, and wasn't that talking? Lex shifted, leaned back in the seat, to pull his cell out of his pocket and pointedly didn't think. After all, he was fully dressed. Better than fully dressed, he had a knee-length wool coat on. He...

Really needed to stop his brain.

~"Wayne Manor?"~ came the eventual response when he had coordinated himself enough to dial, even though it wasn't too easy to hear over Clark's random humming.

Not Bruce. That made things easier, since Bruce had that way of being frowningly worried about people, things, whatever crossed his mind. "Alfred? Hey, It's Lex. Can you pass a message on to Bruce for me?"

~"Certainly. Master Alexander,"~ the Wayne family retainer replied. ~"Master Bruce has yet to surface this morning."~ There was a hint of amusement in Alfred's tone.

"Can't blame him. This is a god-awful hour to be up... Can you let him know that I'm leaving Metropolis for a few days? And if something comes up, to get my contact information from work? I originally was going to leave my cell on all weekend, but I've got some asshole harassing me..."

~"Of course, Master Alexander. And if I may be so bold, may I inform said asshole where to go if he attempts to contact you through this route?"~ Alfred asked politely.

"Please, feel free. I expect that Wayne Manor will be the first route that he'll take. Have a good weekend, Alfred. And thanks."

~"My pleasure, Master Alexander. Have a pleasant Thanksgiving,"~ the butler said and ended the conversation.

Lex flipped his phone closed, and then pressed the 'off' button at the top. To make things a little more final, he tossed it into his glove compartment. "There. Problem solved."

"That's good," Clark said and grinned. "Though if I have to sing to myself all the way back to Smallville, you might be desperate to talk to anyone else."

"You're not allowed to sing. We'll talk. I don't know about what, but we'll talk," Lex grinned loosely, leaning his arm against the edge of the door. If he pretended to be okay, being okay would soon follow.

"Hey, I'll have you know I did a good version of West Side Story. Chloe was in it too..." Clark cleared his throat and then started singing in a very *manly* tone "... I'm pretty, oh so pretty....so pretty and witty and briiiiiiiiiiight...."

"I always liked the movie's lines better." Lex shot him a sideways glance, and grinned a little when he saw the passenger in the car beside them laughing.

"Do we have an audience? Hey, I could do the whole thing!" Clark grinned at him, seemingly unconcerned about making a fool of himself. "Though, it's true, I sucked."

"You have a nice voice. You just... should maybe stick to singing male parts." He turned a little, resting the side of his chin on his palm, elbow against the side of the door. Three hours in the car, passenger side seat.

"Now there's a thought. Is that where I've been going wrong, you think?" Clark asked with affected surprise.

Lex's mouth twitched a little. "Yeah. But I bet you were cute in a poodle skirt."

"Damn, yeah." Clark chuckled some more, unable to quite stop snorting at the mental image. "But we were in farming country. I'll have you know it was a sensible plaid poodle skirt."

"I'm sure you made your mom proud, didn't show too much leg." His mouth twitched a little more.

Fucking absurd? Yes. But it was doing a great job of keeping his mind from contemplating what kind of doom awaited him for *this* visit to Smallville. Maybe the third time really would kill him.

"The stockings were hell," Clark replied still grinning. "Alas, I received no critical acclaim for my performance."

Lex's smile faltered for a bare moment. Stockings... really were hell, even if Clark was joking. Usually his mind didn't pick at him that badly, usually things didn't stand out so starkly. It was all to do with that fucking case. "You were probably *too* good for them, Clark."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Clark said glancing quickly over at him, picking up in the sudden change in heartbeat. "So what were you building last night when I interrupted you?"

Lex stretched one leg out, appreciating the spacious legroom that his car had. "A car. You didn't really interrupt anything. I need to pick up batteries sometime -- the motor won't run without them."

"What other things have you made?" Clark asked curiously.

"Usually I work in LEGOs. A couple of weeks ago I made a squirrel model out of LEGOs." Lex leaned his head back against the headrest, knowing that he was being restless. "And I have a feudal village in draft stage."

"A whole village? What with a castle or something?" Clark sounded impressed. "That's got to be difficult to put together."

"It is, and it's fun." Lex sighed a little. "I've had some people tell me it's probably some strange reclaiming my childhood thing. But it's really just a weird hobby. Everyone has hobbies, right?"

"Yeah. Astronomy. Don't do as much of it now in Metropolis as I would have liked, but Dad liked it too, and I inherited his telescope. Not much light pollution in Smallville and you could get really amazing views," Clark contributed. "And the normal things. Reading, football, comics... that sort of thing."

"What comics?"

"Then or now?" Clark smiled. "Yeah, I still get some. A kid I knew introduced me to Warrior Angel and, well, I got hooked. Usually you say comics and people think of kids things, but they're much more complex than I believed."

"I knew you were a good guy." Lex watched the other man's face for a moment, then looked out onto the road. "I'm a huge Warrior Angel fan. Have been since I was a kid."

"Yeah? I didn't start until I was sixteen. I tried getting hold of some of the earlier editions but there are still a few I haven't tracked them down." Clark said "That thing with Devilicus and the Dark Hand -- I totally missed all that section. They keep referring to it, and I still haven't pieced it together."

"Wow -- the whole section? The Dark Hand was this group that captured Devilicus and sort of... brainwashed him. He shook it off, but there was always doubt about whether he actually had or not. For a while, I don't think the writers were sure or not."

"It that what they are talking about in the defection sequence?" Clark frowned. "Because that seemed pretty out of character to me, and they have Warrior Angel talking about the shadow of the Dark Hand reaching for his friend. I suppose if you look at it in the context of that, it makes sense."

Lex nodded, leaning on his hand a little again. His pill bottle lay loosely onto his lap. "It does, but I don't think it was actually the Dark Hand that had changed Devilicus. It was going on in the background for years up to that point. They had a different approach to fixing things. Devilicus wasn't bad, he just thought that his way was better, more effective."

"Yeah, but I didn't think that Warrior Angel would give up on him just like that you know? Not after everything. I mean, he even faced the forces of Hell alone to bring him back in the Paradise Lost arc." He was proving himself to be a genuine aficionado rather than someone who might have picked up on Lex's interest and tried to bluff it.

A *real* fan of the comics. Lex grinned a little, pleased to have a fellow fan to talk things out with instead of a willing but probably bored victim in the break room.

"He hasn't given up entirely, though, has he? They saved each other's lives in the Deathshakers plot..."

Clark had to agree with that, but within moments he had come up with another query and was secretly pleased that Lex hadn't actually taken any of the pills after all as the never ending conversation continued. Evidently, talking comics was more calming than anyone gave it credit. And he was going to enjoy this -- the last time he had talked about Warrior Angel to anyone, they had talked down to him and practically accused him of ignoring the real world.

Three hours to Smallville was going to *fly* past.

They were still going at it when they arrived at the farm. Lex had only gone quiet a time or two, and more in actual thought than any sort of painful recollection. He had a bad habit of forgetting those three years that had such bad artwork. "... I still think the fourth stand alone graphic novel was the *best*, despite what you've just said. Yes, it was unadulterated mush, but..." Lex opened the door and stood up once Clark had stopped his car. No accidents. No doom. "Hey, does your little sister like LEGOs?"

"My little sister is a law unto herself," Clark smiled. "Pretty much if I like it, she likes it. Probably so she can beat me at it. So, I'd say yes... and I did like the fourth as well, don't get me wrong. It's just that I think my favorite is seven. When they come back together."

"Fixing things isn't the same as if it never went wrong," Lex noted sagely. "That split, that little fracture is always going to be there." That was almost a little too philosophical for Lex, and he grimaced as he opened the back door. "Well. I figured I should come bearing some sort of housewarming gift."

"You brought LEGO?" Clark asked, amused, and then called out. "Mom! Dad! We're here!"

"Yeah, I…"

"Let's get your stuff inside." Clark said that as he got their luggage out of the back effortlessly, then walked towards the door even as it opened.

"Clark!" Clark's sister hurtled out, letting the door swing shut behind her with a bang. "You're late!"

Clark managed not to rock from the impact. "Good to see you, too, kiddo. I told Mom I wouldn't be here until round about now, so I'm not late."

"You are if I say so," she declared and then hugged him again.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Clark grinned. "Lara, this is my friend Lex. You want to give him a hand while get all this inside?"

"Sure!" Lara bounced off down the steps towards Lex. "Hi!"

She was sweet-faced, and looked a little like Clark in the face -- which was funny to have happen when a kid was adopted. Then again, Jonathan looked a lot like Clark in his own way. That was probably how it had happened. "Hello," Lex greeted as he hefted his bulky laptop bag onto his shoulder, and locked the door. "So, you're Clark's little sister? Lara, right? It's nice to meet you, Lara."

"Nice to meet you, too, Lex," she answered and stuck out her hand politely to shake hands. "I like your name. It goes well with mine."

"Yeah? Actually, my name is Alexander, but I've always been Lex. Is Lara your full name?" It was really wrong that he had such easy, casual conversation with kids but not with people.

"Yes. Lara Emily Kent. Clark calls me LK, or Lucky 'cos I usually call him Cee-Kay, even though Dad tells me off," she said giggling a bit. "Lex is a better name than Alexander. There are lots of people called Alexander and you're the only one I've heard called Lex. Can I help you with stuff?"

"Nope. Your big brother grabbed everything except my laptop case," Lex grinned as he moved towards the door. "So, do you think your mom's going to want help with making dinner?"

"Nah, it's pretty much done. *I* helped set the table. And because there are guests, I did those fancy things with the napkins." She sounded proud of that fact and then smiled up at him. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I'll like it." Lex paused a moment, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself down. All he had to do was to... be himself, be sincere, and he'd be okay. And not trip over his own words. That'd help, too. "Your family's good people, and I'm very lucky to be here, visiting."

"Mom says I'm not to bother you too much, so you'll tell me if I bother you, right," Lara said artlessly. "'Cos I get carried away sometimes and forget to be polite and things."

"I'll tell you, and I promise that. I'm not easily bothered. And... I brought you some LEGOs. Don't know if you like them, but..." He finally pulled the door open, ready for whatever it was that was on the other side.

He hoped.

"LEGOs? Way cool!" Lara bounced on in through the door. "Mom! Dad! Lex brought me LEGO!"

A red haired woman turned around. "I hope you said thank you, Lara. Come in Lex, make yourself at home. I'm Martha, Clark and Lara's mother. Clark? You finished putting Lex's things in the guest bedroom?"

"Yeah, Mom, just coming." Clark thundered back down the stairs.

The house was well-lit, warm-toned and pretty welcoming. There were nicknacks on most surfaces, and Lex looked just a little out of place there, even wearing crisp jeans and a purple shirt. He was pretty glad that he hadn't dressed up much at all, suddenly. "Martha. It's a pleasure to meet you, and I want to thank you for letting me come."

"It's our pleasure, Lex," Martha said and again the words sounded genuine. "Jonathan is looking forward to meeting you again. He'll be in, in a moment. Cows need seeing to on Thanksgiving as much as they do any other day."

"That's pretty rude of them," Lex grinned. "Can I go find the guest-room? I want to put my laptop down."

"I'll take you up," Clark said.

"Aw, I was going to!" Lara complained

"My friend, LK," Clark reminded her. "I get to do the honors."

"You can put the juice on the table, sweetheart," Martha said.

"Up here, Lex," Clark gestured to the stairs. "I'll show you your room. Well, my room, but now the guest bedroom."

"So, where're you sleeping?" Lex asked carefully as he moved towards the steps to shadow Clark.

"On the couch, or I'll drag out the bed in my loft," Clark said. "I've learned my lesson about putting a spare bed in Lara's room."

"She doesn't let you sleep?" He almost, almost suggested that Clark just put the spare bed in his room, but he honestly wasn't sure that he'd get any sleep. He'd just hear someone else breathing all night and freak out. Hell, he might do that anyway.

"Pretty much," Clark agreed as they entered the room. "Here we go. A damn sight tidier than it was when I was living in it and with a fair few less comics scattered around, but it's pretty comfortable. The bathroom is just across the hall there if you want a shower or anything."

The walls were still notably full of pinholes from where posters had been stuck up, and here and there was a hint of a star theme. Lex smiled as he tossed his laptop onto the bed, then went to unzip his hefty suitcase. "Thanks. Have I said thanks yet? I... I really don't know what I'd be doing right now. No, actually, I'm lying. I was entertaining the idea of going and doing something pretty stupid until you offered this, Clark. I know you didn't know that, but I appreciate it."

"I wanted to invite you," Clark said frankly. "You don't need to thank me, and if it's helping, then that's great. That's all I want."

"I'm sort of... curious why," Lex told him. He looked over his shoulder at Clark as he pulled the unopened Castle LEGO set out from beneath a folded shirt.

Clark shrugged. "I like you," he said simply.

"That's it...?" Lex's mouth twitched a little as he zipped his bag shut. "I... I like you, too. You're a nice guy."

"There we go. One Mutual Appreciation Society formed," Clark said smiling at him. "Not too hard, was it?"

"No. Not too hard at all. Thanks for keeping me entertained in on the ride, too. I really have an issue with cars, and... I'm really going to have to loan you the Dark Hand arc when we get back." He turned around, presenting the somewhat sizable castle set. That was what had been weighing down his otherwise sensibly packed suitcase.

"When you said 'some LEGO' Lex..." Clark raised his eyebrows as he took it to look at. "Lara is going to love you to pieces."

Lex smiled a little. "I bought it on sale a couple of weeks ago. Pieces to sort out for making big projects, you know? But I don't need it, so..." So, it seemed all right to him. "You can keep it from her until after supper."

"I'll try to," Clark smiled. "Easier said than done with Lara." He looked a little more serious for a moment. "I've hinted to Mom and Dad about some of the stuff going on with you, okay? Not much, just so things aren't uncomfortable. But if you just want to come up here, or sleep... or whatever, they all understand."

Hinted. At least he wouldn't have to explain or make excuses much. That saved him some trouble, right? Right. Lex nodded to himself as he handed the box off to Clark, then moved to head back out. "That's fine. I really think I got enough sleep last night, so. I'll be all right. Might turn in early, but."

"Well usually we eat, then we collapse and then Lara makes us entertain her by playing games," Clark said turning to walk close beside him. "And conversation as well. Nothing fancy, I'm afraid."

He smiled a little at the other man, feeling... maybe too relaxed and light stepped for the moment. "Well, there isn't much that I can say that's in favor of 'fancy', Clark. I turned my back on that."

"Welcome to Smallville, Lex, there's a whole town out there expert in the same thing," Clark said with a grin. "C'mon, I think I heard the door shut. Dad'll be down there."

If fancy meant 'Luthor', then Clark was probably right about the turning back comment. Lex shoved down nervousness as he started down the stairs, hand tight on the hand rail.

He recognized the back of the plaid-clad man in the living room right away.

It was strange how much of an impact that figure had on him. Their encounter hadn't lasted more than a few hours, and yet his shape and appearance was impressed on Lex's memory in vivid colors. Not much had changed about Jonathan Kent in those years. As he turned he could see maybe a few more lines on his face and a few more graying strands in his sandy blond hair, but otherwise he looked exactly the same.

He was smiling up at Lex. "Come on down, son, I'm glad you decided to come."

"Mr. Kent..." Lex cleared his throat when he reached the bottom of the stairs. It was strange, that his throat had suddenly gone tight.

It was a little bit of a shock to him to feel the easy warm hug of the other man, even if it was light and not too intrusive. "Lex, it's good to see you. I have to admit, I've often wondered who exactly it was that day on the bridge."

"You weren't the only one. I wanted to thank you, sir, for what you did..." He hugged back, a little hesitant but taking his cues.

"I didn't do much, son," Jonathan said, aware of Clark standing silently, watching them both. "You're the one who's done all the hard work. Clark told us some of the things that you've accomplished. And of course his article is being serialized in the Daily Planet at the moment."

"I didn't know that..." Lex pulled back a little, taking a careful, controlled breath. "I... wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't... jump-started me. It was just a little thing, but it really mattered to me, sir." It always came down to the little things in life. Little gestures, thoughts, words, that made the world a better place. Made it easier for Lex to cope.

"Call me Jonathan." He let go of Lex, patting him on the arm much as he did out of habit with Clark as anything else. "I'm just glad it was meaningful -- although when Clark told me it was Lex Luthor I pulled out of the water, that gave me a bit of a surprise."

"Why...?" Curious question, because Lex wanted to know. "And is there anything I can help out with for dinner...?"

Jonathan turned and smiled at him. "Because it would seem it wasn't the first time that the Kents' saved your life. Even Clark."

Clark looked puzzled. "But I met him for the first time at the CSI lab, Dad. I don't remember meeting him before." Even if he had felt a little familiar in some strange way.

Martha emerged from the kitchen area. "That's because you were too young, sweetheart."

Too young? Lex went a little stiff as he tried to think of what he'd been rescued from before, but couldn't remember. It was a pretty wide swathe of events, a slab of years that it could've come from. He'd be... captive one moment, then safe at home the next. That he couldn't remember wasn't too shocking for Lex.

"I think that I might've been too young, too," he offered warily.

"Day of the meteor showers in Smallville," Jonathan said picking up the pile of plates on the side and taking them over to the set table.

Lara knelt up on the sofa. "Oh! Oh I know this one! It was the day you both fo...got Clark wasn't it?" she said. "When he was really young."

"That's right," Martha agreed, stirring something before turning around. "The truck got tossed and we had to find another one, and... well, let's put it this way, Jonathan, Clark, and I ended up rushing you and your father to the hospital. Clark was mighty taken with you then."

Clark was squinting a little at Lex thoughtfully as if trying to remember. He remembered the softness of skin beneath his fingertips, that was all. Lex found himself squinting back, trying to remember, too. "I... don't really remember it, but my father mentioned that a local family helped us."

"Well apparently it was lucky we got you there in time," Martha said getting out a few bits and pieces. "Lex, dear, would you mind helping me get a few things ready for the table? Clark, can you get some more firewood in so we won't have to go out later? We'll be serving up in a few minutes or so."

Firewood? That was so... country. It made Lex grin as he moved towards the table, waiting for some instruction about what to move. And Martha did instruct, pretty clearly, by just telling him what to grab and put on the table.

In the mean time, Clark had been out and tramping back through with armfuls of wood and a bucket of coal with such ease that Lex began to wonder how much the cheap suit had been concealing his apparent physique. Jonathan was busy sharpening the knife to carve and Lara was generally trying to be helpful and getting in everyone's way.

It was a cacophony of noise and motion, not quite like anything Lex could ever remember being a part of in his life. He didn't mind, either; the plates were already set out, and he eventually found himself watching things come together, watching everyone converge. Not unlike sharks towards chum, except that there was less of a feeling of threat.

It was only the food that was facing a threat.

There was more food than he would have thought possible for anyone to possibly eat. The turkey -- as glistening and golden brown as any cosmetically enhanced advert -- looked like it would feed them all until Christmas. The dishes he had been helping to fill were piled high with vegetables and traditional Thanksgiving fare, stuffing and sweet potatoes. The Kent family obviously took any holiday that involved food very seriously.

"Have a seat, Lex," Martha said. "Lara... Lara, stop that! If you keep trying to steal the turkey, you'll end up with your fingers chopped off when your father carves. Now sit up."

"Aw, Mom!" Lara obeyed reluctantly, even as they all took their places.

Jonathan cleared his throat once he'd cut, then sat down before people could serve themselves. Lex ended up sitting beside Clark, which was a comfortable enough place for him to be at the table. "Clark, would you say grace?"

Clark cleared his throat and began a little self-consciously. "Okay. Thank you Lord, for the food that we are sharing here today, for the health and presence of family and good friends. " He glanced at Lex and smiled. "We appreciate all the gifts we've been given, the strength, the courage to face the challenges you put in our lives. Amen."

Lex wasn't looking at him. Not exactly, and neither did he have his hands folded and his head bowed like the rest of the people there. He was staring at Clark's pants, mulling over both the fabric and wondering what the muscle beneath felt like. It was something to concentrate on, other than the words.

Courage. It didn't take courage to live. Lex didn't have courage.

But there was something he did apparently have which he realized as the chaos of serving food erupted around him. Somewhere, somehow in the last few days he seemed to have acquired a friend.

Lex's knack for dealing with kids had come in handier than he'd expected it would at the Kent house. He was stuffed after eating way too much turkey, ham and stuffing, along with sweet potatoes and a sprite-cranberry aspic thing. And pie. Cherry and pumpkin, so of course he had to try a little of each.

They'd all sat around and watched some football, which struck Lex as a pretty normal thing to be doing, and eventually Lara had started to demand entertainment. So out had come the LEGOs, and...

It had been exhausting, but only physically. Lex was able to say at the end of the day that it had been an emotional buffer for him, a break from the events at work that had been driving him up a wall.

Lara was like most kids her age; possessed of boundless energy and enthusiasm and seemingly fearless of him. She thought nothing of crawling all over him and Clark, demanding their attention with giggling good humor. Like most eight year olds, when she did run out of energy, it was pretty immediate and she went from grand plans for her LEGO castle to practically asleep on Lex.

It was a rare sign of favor, according to Martha. Clark had helped his Mom put his sister to bed and had come down with some bed clothes announcing his intention to set up his sleeping quarters in the loft.

Lex had offered to help, unsure of what to do, but following gut instinct. After all, he was the reason Clark was apparently going to spend a cold November night out in the 'loft'. So there he was, carrying a few pillows out to the barn, trailing behind Clark.

"Dad made this place for me," Clark said. "As you can tell, the house isn't over-endowed with space so it was my big present one year. When I was ten. He called it my Fortress of Solitude," he grinned at Lex as he turned on the light. "Don't worry, I've slept out here a lot. I made it pretty livable over the years. It was more my space than my room in some ways. Mom would clean in my rooms and I had to keep this place together."

He started up the stairs, tripping the lights and bending down to turn on a powerful looking heater. "There. I have a beat up sofa bed up here."

"Seems like a pretty nice setup," Lex noted as he followed behind Clark. That heater had to be powerful, because as it was, Lex was in his coat, gloves, and wishing he was wearing more than one pair of socks under his shoes. It was *cold*. "Do you need help getting the sofa bed out?"

"That'd be great," Clark said. "Here, this one, not the other couch. That one's for lounging in. Like the chair. Well, like everything -- I did a lot of lounging."

"That's a right of being a teenager, right?" Laying. Often on one's stomach, and... Lex clenched his teeth for the moment, moving cushions off of the sofa bed. He had to keep in the now, keep his thoughts in the now, firmly planted in reality and what was... right then. "So what was it like growing up here?"

"You'd think it would be quiet, wouldn't you?" Clark asked pulling it out. "Out here in the middle of nowhere. No such luck. But most people wouldn't believe it. Chloe ever talk about it?"

"Now and again. It seemed like a pretty wild place. Small-town X-files." Lex stepped back, so he didn't have one of the legs land on his foot.

"Yeah. That's what started us both off in investigation. Funny but I always thought she was the one who would become the reporter, not me," Clark said. "There... hmm, you think it will stand my weight?" He opted for testing it by practically bouncing on the old piece of furniture.

Lex grimaced and caught himself waiting for it to collapse beneath Clark. Except it didn't. It stayed firm, creaked a little, but... He grinned, moved forwards to grab Clark's arm. "Yeah, easy there. It looks like it can take a lot of abuse."

Clark grinned and tugged at him to sit as well, and reached for the pillows. "If it could stand Pete and I bouncing on it... and sometimes his brothers and Chloe too, then I think it can serve as a seat for both of us."

He went stiff for a moment, half-jerked away from Clark before he covered the instinctual gesture by grabbing a pillow. "Uh, guess so."

Clark didn't miss it. "Sorry, Lex, I... keep forgetting. We're naturally a pretty tactile family. You might have noticed that."

"I get the idea that most people are pretty tactile, so... it's all right," Lex shrugged, fingers knotting into the pillow for a moment as he held it. "I haven't really tried to work around my problems other than just... avoiding. Don't apologize."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," Clark said. "You've been having an okay time haven't you? I don't want to spoil it."

The edges of Lex's lips twitched into a faint smile as he shifted the pillow to lean his knee on while he crossed his legs. "I've been having a great time, Clark. Your family is.... great. And your sister's so bright."

"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" Clark grinned. "Mom and Dad were told they would never have a child of their own, which is why they adopted me. And then, out of nowhere, Mom got pregnant. Well, not completely out of nowhere. I assume Dad had something to do with it. "

Another twitch, and Lex finally gave in to a smile. "Yeah. That's how things tend to work out. I had a little brother, but he died of SIDS. And Lucas... well, he showed up after I'd decided to finish my degree. The proverbial heir pulled out of the woodwork."

"I met him," Clark replied after a pause. "He came to Smallville for a while."

Lex sighed as he leaned back against the back, and shifted one leg to stretch out. At least the sofa bed seemed warm, and that heater seemed to be doing its job admirably. "I can only imagine that that was fun. He told me a little of his exploits." Basically a short spurt of trying to see how many people in the town he could fuck.

Clark went a little quiet. "Yeah. He wasn't exactly subtle," he said with a tension in his frame that hadn't been there before. "We, uh... "

"I know my brother. I can guess." Lex's eyes drifted over to the telescope. They were all sluts. His brother wasn't much different than him in that regard, except he was an initiator.

It made his heart sink to think about that, though. Of course, Clark had to have done it sometime with someone, and hey, it was a guy, so maybe that put him in Lex's realm of possibility. But.

"No, no we didn't do... he didn't fuck me, but..." Clark sighed. "He tried pretty damn hard. I made the mistake of being friendly and it just lead to a fraught few months. I hit him a few times trying to get away." He looked obscurely ashamed of that.

"He had it coming," Lex muttered. "I'm sure. You... shouldn't ever feel bad for defending yourself, okay?" he shifted, just to jostle Clark a little. Clark looked better when he was thoughtful or smiling.

Funny. Lex had to wonder when he'd decided that a frown didn't look good on Clark's face.

"I could have easily done him some serious damage if I had really panicked," Clark said. "As it was, he found other ways to continue the long standing Luthor-Kent feud." He smiled at Lex. "Wanna swap sides?"

"What, to the Kent side? Sure, gladly. I... I'm not fond of what's left of my family," Lex sighed. No, that was an understatement. He had a brother who had no sense of conscience, it seemed, and his father... his father who should have protected him when he was a child, and hadn't. Who'd maybe done more than merely failed to protect him, who...

"Well, you've survived a Kent Thanksgiving, so that makes you part Kent at least." Clark looked at him. "They thought I was Lucas for a while, you know that? The missing scion. His mother did at least."

"I would've been okay with it if you had been. You're as nice as Chloe always said you were. I could've handled it better than I handle Lucas." Which was a hands-off mentality, because he literally didn't know what to do with him. Except encourage him to think for himself, but Lucas never seemed prone to like that advice.

"Lucas..." Clark sighed. "I tried to be his friend but he... I guess the term is that he 'played' me. Over and over. I'm kind of stupid about that sort of thing." He shrugged. "But I would have loved a brother. This was before Lara."

"Something tells me that she changed everything?" He wanted to change the topic away from his brutal family, if it were possible for him to do.

"Changed a lot," Clark agreed. "But then I was away at college when she was a couple of years old. I'm glad about that, because I think I would have felt much more guilty about leaving for Met U if I was leaving Mom and Dad alone."

"I wondered about that. She seems pretty young." Not that that was a bad thing. Lex shifted his coat around him, huddling a little, and went on. "It's good that they're making sure she's.... a kid. Most the kids in Metropolis grow up too fast."

"Like you did?" Clark said reaching for the covers on the floor and rather casually draping them around Lex as if it were perfectly natural and obvious thing to do.

Even if Lex was wearing two layers of clothes and a coat, it was appreciated. He shifted his shoulders a little, pulling the blankets closer. It was night, too, and he could use that as an excuse while they sat in the loft and talked. And he could pre-warm the blankets for Clark.

No, that was a little lame of him to think.

"I didn't get a choice. A lot of kids we see in the Children's Foundation try to... emulate adults too soon. They do things they think they're grown up enough for, and put themselves into bad situations. And their parents let them."

"They end up as trying to take responsibility or escape it," Clark agreed, turning to look at him again. "Unless there's someone there to help them."

"Yeah." He gave a faint smile. "It's the most I can do. Try to help kids, and.... pick up the pieces a little. I know what it's like when there isn't anyone to help you."

"I wish... I wish I could have been there to help you, then," Clark said quietly.

"You're twenty-seven, right?" Lex asked, twisting a little to better face Clark as they talked. "You... would've been all of two. And even my most mature friends didn't know what to do with me when I decided that drugs were the best solution ever."

"You shouldn't have been alone," Clark said firmly. "You shouldn't be alone now either, not with all this going on. And you won't be."

As much as Lex wanted to protest that, he... didn't, couldn't. Needed to hear that too much to do something stupid like protest. He just swallowed, looking over towards the telescope again. "Thanks, Clark. Like I said, this... I'm glad I'm here. I think I would've done something pretty stupid if I hadn't come."

"Like what?" Clark felt confident enough to ask that this time, counting on the fact they had been growing more comfortable with each other.

"Well... I was contemplating quitting work after Winters... interviewed me. Then I figured I'd find a bar on the way home and just... see what happened." He shrugged his shoulders, looking a little guilty. "I didn't do it. I went home, played with my toys, and then you showed up."

"You wanted to lose yourself," Clark translated to himself. "I don't blame you. You shouldn't quit Lex, you didn't do anything wrong, not then, not now."

He knew that in his head, but knowing it there, and actually knowing it in his heart, and agreeing with it were two different things. "Fred wouldn't take my resignation, and when he told me as much, he said... pretty much the same thing. It doesn't make... memories any easier to cope with."

"Have you ever really talked about it? I mean, really talked about it with anyone?" Clark asked.

"Would explaining evidence to my boss count?" Lex shook his head a little. "I think I explained it to Bruce. Maybe. Once upon a time. He was pretty badly broken up when we were kids, so going to him for help wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had."

"Did it help at all?" Clark was studying him. "Even a little?"

"He made me go to college, and I listened," Lex suggested. "I just... I don't see the point in talking about it. Never have."

"It's like..." Clark pondered a moment. "When you do your LEGO. When it's all packed away inside, you can do nothing with it. It takes up space, you can't add anything new or make it different until you take it out and look at it and see how it fits together."

"You can sort LEGO out and use it to build things on, too, Clark -- you can't..." He shifted his shoulders, making himself be calm as he went on. Just slow breathing, and he'd be fine. "You can't build on, on what I experienced."

"Yes, you can. You have. Lex, do you have any idea how incredible everything you've done actually is?" Clark asked vehemently. "The charities, your work, everything. Don't you see? You've done everything alone -- just think what you could do if you got the help and support you deserve!"

Lex shifted the blankets, pulling them closer, pulling his legs in to keep them warm, too, even if he was trying not to get the soles of his boots on the blankets. "But it all comes back to apparently talking through my trauma. And I don't want to. It's... even thinking about it much is like taking a knife to myself."

"Maybe one day, if you trust someone enough, you can face that," Clark said softly. "But that's for you to decide, not for it to be forced on you. You've had too much forced on you in your life Lex, for anyone who cared about you to even think about doing that."

"It's not even that simple. Winters didn't want to make me talk about it, I know, but..." Lex shifted a hand, jaw a little tight. "The more evidence, the more chance that Dominic isn't ever leaving jail. I hope we get a lot, because I don't want to have to testify in court. They... There's a lot they could bring up. Even after they left me alone, I've been pretty fucked up."

"The odds are, though, that the physical evidence of this case can track this girl's movements, if your team can identify her. Then it'll tie it back to them. They have hard, incontrovertible evidence, Lex," Clark answered, still watching him and having to remember that reaching to hug him, touch him wouldn't help. Every now and then he would start to do so and then stop before the movement came to anything.

"Yes." A faint motion, and Lex rubbed at one knee beneath the blanket. "So maybe I won't have to come up in court."

"If you do, though," Clark said slowly. "You'll have people around to help you."

Except that didn't mean as much as it should to Lex. Maybe because the feeling of support, of knowing that people wanted to help him, hadn't really sank in yet. It didn't feel real, and because it didn't feel real... Maybe he wasn't feeling the support because of that. "I'm sure it seems like that."

"I promise that's the case. I can guarantee you one person at least," Clark said seriously.

"You?" Lex guessed that, lifting his head a little to look over at Clark.

Clark nodded, giving him a slight smile. "Part of my voluntary duties of our Mutual Appreciation Society."

Sweet. Clark Kent... was sweeter than Chloe had told him he was, almost suspiciously sweet. Lex leaned back a little more against the back of the sofa. "I see. You'll have to forgive me if I'm weird and don't know what to do with it, exactly."

"Nothing really," Clark replied shrugging slightly. "You don't have to do anything."

"Are you sure?" He even lifted an eyebrow at Clark, weakly trying to joke.

He nodded again. "Yeah. No strings."

"No strings." Lex exhaled slowly, pushing down the knot that felt like it was balling up in his chest. "I... it's really hard for me to believe that, Clark, but I want to."

"You think I'm doing this for some reason?" Clark asked, almost gently.

"No, I... I don't. I just haven't gotten to know anyone for a while, because it's.... easier. Not to do it, not to take the risk that it's always been. So." Lex laughed a little. "But you're a good guy."

"And I like Warrior Angel," Clark added grinning at him. "That automatically puts me on the side of righteousness."

"That and your geekyness," Lex agreed, leaning forwards to pull Clark's glasses off of his face. It was nervy, but... The curious part of him wanted to see Clark's reaction. "So just how blind are you?"

Clark looked a little surprised. "Short sighted. I can see things reasonably close." He blinked, his eyes a deep translucent green as he regarded Lex in a quizzical manner.

"Mm." Lex handled the glasses carefully after he'd taken them, turning them. "I wondered, since you seemed to see things pretty keenly at work. I know some people who wear glasses to give other people a certain idea about them. For years, my father used to wear 'glasses' now and then. They were plain glass until a few years ago."

Clark shrugged. "It's a mild prescription. I had an accident when I was younger that temporarily blinded me and since then they get a bit fuzzy when I get tired."

The glasses did have a mild prescription, that was true, but his eyes seemed to ignore the lenses completely. "I can function without them," he admitted. "I don't usually wear them at home."

Lex nodded, then leaned back into Clark to put them back on top of Clark's head, fingers a little shaky as he accidentally brushed Clark's hair. Then he smiled. "You look good either way."

Clark raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you ... uh, are you coming on to me, Lex?" he asked with a smile.

Lex's face colored a little, and he shifted the blankets. "Yeah. Maybe."

"You like me?" Clark asked tilting his head just a little. "Or do you feel you have to?"

Well. Not only was he not doing too well in the smooth and charming department, he wasn't going so hot in the seemingly confident and sane departments. Two strikes in two throws -- not bad. "No, I... I like you. You're a nice guy. You're funny. And pretty brilliant from what I've seen so far."

Clark just looked at him for a long time and smiled very slowly. "I need to get that compliment in writing, Lex. It might just fend off the insecurities when Lois calls me a small town idiot."

It was a gently encouraging response if not the overwhelming one he had hoped for. Easy and faint was something, Lex guessed. Better than a kick in the teeth. He smiled, wide, bright. "I'll put it in writing for you."

Clark laughed and carried on looking at him. "You look... gorgeous when you smile, Lex. When you really mean it."

"Thanks." It was nice to hear, even if he hadn't ever doubted it much. What he doubted was his ability to... not mess things up. They were sitting on a sofa bed, albeit dressed and with blankets, in privacy, and Clark was smiling at him like he belonged in a toothpaste commercial.

He *had* to get out of there before he did something stupid.

Clark seemed to pick up some of his reservation and leaned back. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Lex could feel his smile when it slipped to somewhat sheepish. "No, don't apologize. Please. I was just thinking... that maybe I should go before..." Before he *said* something stupider than what he'd half been wanting to do. There was proof why he didn't get close to people. It was either a complete emotional lock down, or... that. Whatever Lex was doing then. Eyeing Clark and wondering if he should.

Never mind that he still hardly knew the guy.

"Before I make an idiot out of myself."

"In what way?" Clark asked softly. It was so quiet in the loft that the words were barely above the sound of a whisper and it still seemed loud.

Lex turned slowly, to face Clark better in the soft light of the overhead lamp. "Because I only have two speeds -- brakes, and breaking the speed limit. And I do like you. So... trying not to break the sound barrier with how fast I move." For once. It was an instinct that told him that Clark was... good, which ranked for Lex above Clark's other attracting factors of a nice face, and a warm smile.

Clark nodded and smiled at him. "Lex, I want you to know I really like you... and yeah, I mean it that way. I haven't been able to get over the way your eyes looked from the first time you gave me directions to Winters' office. But I also believe really strongly that if it goes further... it should feel real and right to you. You know?"

He knew, cognitively. Like you knew that parents didn't hurt their kids, and most people got along, even if it wasn't really true. Lex moved to get free of the blankets, moving slowly, comfortably, though. He wasn't in a hurry to leave Clark there, but he knew that he should. "Yeah. I know."

Clark watched him in silence for a moment before moving to get up. "I'll keep my promises Lex." He stood and then turned as if the conversation hadn't happened. "C'mon, lets go and get some hot chocolate or something. Mom does this thing with real chocolate that beats any I've tried in Metropolis... you must be cold." He reached out a hand to help him up.

And while Lex's own hands were cold to the touch by then, Clark's were like small furnaces. Lex clutched Clark's hand, and let himself be helped up. "That's not going to wake your sister up, is it?"

"Nah, she usually sleeps really well," Clark said. "And by the time I come out here, it will be all warmed up."

"You're going to have to explain the laws of physics on how you keep an un-insulated barn warm," Lex murmured, still smiling as he let Clark take him out of the loft and back into the barn proper, headed back to the house.

"Straw, lots of it," Clark replied with his best disarming grin. "And a shocking disregard for energy waste."

All in all, it had been a rather surreal encounter and hadn't ended in the way most of Lex's encounters with other people did; in bed with an empty hollow feeling or in an icy withdrawal of the other person unable to tolerate his quirks.

Lex wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation, since it didn't fit anything that he had experienced to date. His experience told him categorically that people would reject him, abandon him or abuse him once he stepped beyond a certain level of association.

He knew what should have happened. Clark should have taken the opening, he should have pushed it and they would have had sex and he would have _known_ why Clark was being so nice to him because the answer would have been there in the lust and the hollowness of his body, actions underpinning the emptiness of pretty words. If he had been lucky, he might have found it enjoyable -- he was pretty sure it would be -- and otherwise? He could have truthfully said he'd had worse.

But that hadn't happened. And even as they ended back in the small farm kitchen, lightly joking with each other and exchanging smiles, Lex discovered that for the first time in years he was somewhere different in his life.

He wasn't entirely comfortable with this new direction, and yet for all the anxiety, there was the small, strange bud of something unfamiliar coming into existence in his mind. He hadn't experienced it in so long, that the feel of it was unrecognizable to him.

Unnamed and curious, even as Lex sipped his hot chocolate and let a warmth seep back into his bones, small tendrils of hope threaded through his mind, needing only a little encouragement to reemerge from a long painful dormancy.

He'd never felt so out of place in his life, and he had a long life of feeling like a man who'd been badly green-screened into reality. Ever so faintly out of sync, missing out on sensations that were normal.

And he'd never been so happy to be someplace where he didn't belong. Being in the Kent farm was like visiting the shelter and helping. It was like passing out Christmas gifts to the kids. It felt good, a warm curl of sensation at the bottom of his heart. It was like that to talk with Martha, ask her questions about the farm, to watch Jonathan continue to be a father to his son, and to play with Lara. She was sweet and bright and so... so innocent. She hadn't ever been hurt, and Lex felt protective of her, wanted to keep her safe from things like he'd felt. Like had happened to that poor girl.

She was spoiled shamelessly with his attention and that of older brother, but she managed not to be brattish. Clark seemed to revel in the opportunity to play like a kid again. As he said, younger siblings were a good excuse to do all the really cool things you did as a child. And in Lex's case that meant introducing him to some of them.

So it was that they just *had* to go out to the woods and make their own swing, and fall off of it. That was apparently part of the deal. They had to go down to Crater Lake and skip stones even if it was cold enough to see some ice around the edges. There was something calming about selecting a smooth pebble and feeling the shape of it in his hand and finding the perfect angle to skim his chosen stone.

Probably the most amusement came when Lara decided to take them on one of her imaginary quests and appointed Lex as her Knight Protector. Clark was relegated to being the noble steed.

Lex sort of liked the idea of Clark as a noble steed. Even if he had kept making 'clop clop' noises by doing the coconut gesture. Lara hadn't ever *seen* Monty Python and the Holy Grail, something that Lex just knew he had to rectify.

All in all, it was fun. Even when she tried to get him and Clark to dam up one of the little local streams. He'd spent most of the day outside, playing with the two siblings and enjoying the fresh air. Lex had also been enjoying his comfortable leather gloves, and the dark purple knit hat that was keeping his head warm.

That still didn't keep him from feeling like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, if Rudolph had been allowed to play reindeer games. He was going to have to hit the local video store and see if he could rent the Holy Grail DVD there.

"You're right about the loft, Clark. It keeps relatively warm."

"Told you," Clark grinned even as he opened the big window to lean out and look over the farm and Smallville. "Especially if you practically sit on top of the heater like that."

"I'm only doing this so my pants will dry out before we go in to help your mother heat up leftovers," Lex assured him, smiling crookedly as he looked at Clark's backside while Clark leaned out the window. Then his eyes drifted up, looking at the back of Clark's ruffled hair, and out to the fields beyond. There certainly was a particular beauty about Smallville. It sort of made him wish he'd stayed.

Except then he would've been a different person. And all the money in the world couldn't make you happy.

"I told you that you'd fall in the stream," Clark said, turning to grin slyly at him. "Never believe Lara when she says, 'Of course it's safe'."

"I knew she was smiling too much." Lex shifted his chair forwards just a little, dragging it over the floor boards. "Hey, do you think the local video store'll be open tomorrow?"

"Probably. We can drive into town and find out. Want to get something?" Clark asked turning his back to the open window for a moment to face Lex.

"Yeah. Your sister *needs* to see Monty Python and the Holy Grail," Lex grinned. "She's old enough to get the jokes..."

Clark chuckled. "Even the bits in the Castle Perilous?"

"Well.... You can cover her eyes while I fast forward," Lex said very seriously. Maybe he could even find a cut version. He'd almost forgot about that part of the movie.

"I'll cough loudly," Clark replied and then frowned a moment turning his head. "I thought I heard..."

"The cows getting restless again?" Clark had let him help feed them, but hadn't let Lex muck the stalls out; Lex had offered very sincerely, but Clark still hadn't let him. Once the smell of freshly turned over muck got to his nose, Lex was pretty glad that Clark hadn't let him.

"No, a car." Clark narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe it. Lois. What's she doing here?" The sound of a car was barely audible.

"What you don't have in eyesight, you more than make up with your hearing," Lex declared as he started to stand up. "You recognize the sound of her car?"

"It's unmistakable."

And fast it seemed. The car was hurtling up the road and turning in at the entrance to the Kent Farm. "Want me to go see what she wants?"

"Maybe she wanted to say hello?" Lex leaned against Clark a little, shoulder to shoulder as he watched the car careen to a stop near his Audi. It was sporty, red, and Lex squinted a little to guess what the model was. Mustang. "Or something came up at work."

"Most likely work. Lois doesn't like missing anything." Clark looked down as the car pulled to a halt and a figure got out. "Hey Lois!" he called out and waved.

"Clark!" She waved back, and started towards the barn. "I'm going to come up!"

Lex stayed close to Clark, silent as he watched her run around to the side and ought of sight. Damn. He wanted to think that she'd leave quickly, but you didn't drive three hours to say hello and then turn back around.

They could hear her come up the steps rapidly. "What brings you to Smallville, Lois? I thought you had to be dragged out of Metropolis kicking and screaming?"

"Very funny, Kent. I just came over here to ask you about..." She stopped near the top of the stairs and too the last couple as if in slow motion. She was staring at him as she turned around, and he could feel his stomach sinking.

"Luthor? *Lex* Luthor? Jesus, Clark, I hope you haven't left this guy alone with your sister."

"... Excuse me?"

"Lois, what are you talking about?" Clark frowned at her. "Lex is here as my guest."

She snorted as she eyed Lex, but Lex cut her off before she could say anything to him. "If you have something to say to me, Mrs. Lane, please. Say it. I'd like to think that as a reporter you're not holding past events against me."

Clark looked at them both. "Why don't we just all sit down a moment? Lois, what's going on?"

She shot Lex a look, and then she shot the folded up Sofa bed a look, the sheets piled up on top of it. "What's going on is that Lillian Luthor Children's Charities is *Lex* Luthor's personal front for a child pornography ring."

Air caught in his chest, halfway to an inhalation, and Lex couldn't move as the words processed through his head. No. No. That, that charity was his life's work, it... It helped kids. Picked up the pieces without asking questions. It did good work, and the best retort Lex could think of, the best defense, was a gasped, "You're crazy!"

Clark looked as if Lois had punched him, startled. There was a moment of shock before he said. "Lois, that's ridiculous."

"It's provable," she sneered. "The Police leaked a partial victim list, and in the past eight years, twenty kids who were molested by the same people that killed that girl, one Dominic Senatori of the LuthorCorp Board and his associates, went through the Lillian Luthor Children Charities system."

"That, that's because we help kids who've been hurt! We get lists from the hospitals, we contact the parents and offer counseling, it..." Lex leaned back against the window sill, one hand clutching at it white knuckled. "It's not *like* that. My God. We try to help kids..."

"Lois, I suggest you stop there, because you don't know all the facts," Clark said sternly and he glanced at Lex, his eyes showing a gleam of blue.

"Then explain why he was taken off of the case? Why not if they didn't suspect something?" Lois said glaring at Lex. "There had to be an organization that 'brokered' these children and the connection is undeniable! Luthor to Luthor. All this cover story about being estranged from his family and not talking to his family -- complete crap, Clark! You've been snowed by him! You and I both know how good the Luthor's are at manipulation."

"If you... if you publish thi... *shit*, Ms. Lane, you'll be ruining years of work. You'll be ruining a reputable charity organization," Lex bit out, breathing a little raggedly. How... did people really think that about him, after all he'd done, after how hard he'd worked to make a life of his own? "I..." He stepped forwards away from the windowsill because his balance felt like it was slipping out from under him and spiraling away. "You have it wrong, Ms. Lane."

"Everything that has been published," and Lois gave him a look, "is perfectly logical based on information received."

Clark was frowning again. "And where did this information come from Lois?"

"Oh, God." Lex sat down on the floor, because it was sit down or fall down. Published. Oh, God. Over nine years, he'd lived in Metropolis and been happy doing good things quietly, and working in the lab, and now it was all falling apart. He could hardly breath as he rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to get calm again. "Where... where the *fuck* did you get this false information?"

"Sources in the police department," Lois said defensively. "And don't give me that Luthor. You're sick -- coming here, taking advantage of Clark because he's too damn naive to know any better and, God, probably perving over his little sister. Just when I thought that you couldn't go further down in my estimation..."

"Lois." Clark's interruption cut through her tirade effortlessly, with a commanding edge to his voice that seemed totally at odds with his usual amiable tones. "Just shut up. Now."

Lex stayed still, breathing hard. Sources in the police department. The same police department that had pictures of him being used, brutalized, for other people's pleasure. The same police department that he'd testified for and given evidence for. It... He *trusted* them, and that had happened?

"You've ruined me," Lex choked, shifting in on himself. He needed to hide, but it wasn't an option. He needed to just... make everything go away. "I do good things! I, I've worked for the department for years, I spend my, my free time helping people, I, I'm not bad... You printed lies..."

"I printed the story," Lois replied sharply. She had a lot of experience in ignoring Clark. "We have a connection to LuthorCorp. Just not the precise distribution mechanism. It's not a million miles to jump to Lionel Luthor's son as accomplice."

Clark stood and stepped forward, clenching a fist. "When are you going to realize, Lois, that it's not about the story, it's the *people*! Don't you understand what you've done?! You've printed a story without regard for the consequences. It doesn't matter to you, does it, because it's just about true enough to pass a cursory look? The fact that it's fundamentally flawed and *you've* been played hasn't even occurred to you, has it? The fact that Lex is innocent and being made into a victim never even crossed your mind. Why not? Because it's obvious to you, isn't it? He's a Luthor and 'everybody' knows what they're capable of! And you're Lois Lane, not some hack from a small town and no one can play you? Isn't that right?!

"Lois, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're a fucking idiot. You've been played just as much as you always swear I will be."

Lex was willing to bet that her facial expression was priceless. Or, would've been willing to bet it if he'd been capable of lifting his head, of doing more than choke back thick panic. He half-nodded to Clark's words, fighting to make himself get to his feet. He needed... he needed his pills. And to call his lawyers. And to calm down, but that was coming last on his list. "You, you don't have the whole fu... fucking story. You... you bitch. You're just as bad as them." He used the arm of the sofa to pull himself to his feet, shaky. "I need to get my pills. And call my lawyers. Your g-goddamned paper is going to print a, a LARGE retraction."

"I... you don't..." Lois was practically speechless.

"You should have checked with me. This was my story, and you didn't think to talk to me about it did you?" Clark replied glancing over at Lex. "And Lex is my friend, story or not..."

Lois looked at them both. "The evidence shows that..."

"Evidence from a mysterious leak at the police department? Come on, Lois, use your head. You don't get 'gifts' like that out of nowhere. Perry should know better. If he's got any sense he'll print that retraction immediately, before Lex's lawyers make mincemeat of him," Clark said, folding his arms.

"There's no reason to counter it," Lois said a little weakly, trying to force herself back into a position of strength.

"Lex? I haven't passed on that information, though I have it documented." Clark turned to him. "You want me to tell her why?"

"Sure. I, I don't care. Apparently the whole fucking city thinks I'm evil, right? Why not." He shook as he stood, and moved to brush past Lois to get down the stairs. She grabbed his arm and he jerked back sharply, shoving her away. "You want to know why I was taken off the case? Because I'm in those pictures they, they've got. You're the *sick* one, printing up..." He shook his head, and half stumbled down the stairs. "Fuck you. Fuck all of you."

"Wha-?" Twice in one day and Lois was speechless. It was most likely a record.

"Lex, careful," Clark started forward practically ignoring his partner.

"I, I'm fine." He slipped a little, but there was a sense of desperation that kept him going, walking out the barn door and towards the house. He'd felt so comfortable there that he'd even hung his car keys off of the key rack, and that was where they still were. That was what he needed to get his pills and his cell phone.

"Lex... Lex, wait." Clark caught hold of his should gently but firmly. "Listen to me. Go in, go upstairs and I want to come and talk to you as soon as I'm done talking to Lois here. She and I have some unfinished things to clear up. Promise you won't try and leave? Please, Lex?"

Lex should've pulled away, or nodded stiffly. Instead, he hesitated like he wanted to turn into Clark, and then sucked in a breath and nodded. "I, I'm not going to leave. I just want to get my meds and, and call, I need to..."

"Don't call yet. We need to go over what you're willing to tell and how to make this work your way, Lex." Clark didn't argue with him on the pills, even though Lex had miraculously not taken any the entire time he had been at the Kent household. "I'll be in in a few minutes, okay?"

"Yeah." Lex pulled away, hunching into his coat as he walked. He needed to get away, even for a little bit. Even if it was just hiding in the Kent's warm, warm house.

It was funny how things could go from great to horrible like snapping your fingers.

Clark watched him go, and then turned with uncharacteristic determination towards Lois. His partner had always taken great delight in playing up her own skill against his own self depreciation and now she had tripped up, and then some.

"Lois, I'm going to do an article that essentially refutes anything that the current version of the 'truth' is saying." He wanted to shout, he wanted to lose his temper, but the world wouldn't know what hit it if he really did lose his temper.

"Look, Clark..." Lois eyed him, her expression gently patronizing as she moved towards him. "He's suckered you. You need to think like a reporter, with an objective stance."

"Oh, like you are?" Clark replied sharply. "Were you listening to what he just said, hmm?"

"I listened," Lois said carefully. "But Clark, the evidence... the evidence shows a link. If..." She hesitated for a moment. "People who've been abused often turn around and perpetuate."

"Tell me about the evidence," Clark said, trying to rein in his impatience. "And the source."

"The source is one of the officers on the case," Lois said blandly. "Look, read the article. It speaks for itself, Clark. His charity is a front for this stuff, in one way or another."

"Lois, I took a record of all the charity's dealings and processes prior to this all coming out. There is absolutely no evidence of anything suspect at all in my copy that I lifted," Clark said. "You think I wouldn't have looked into it? If the data has changed, it's been changed since Tuesday night."

"Then why are so many of those kids coming through the Lillian Luthor Children's Charity?" Lois asked a little sharply. "I'll need hardcore proof that he's not involved, and alibis before I believe it."

"Because they specialize in dealing with kids who have undergone the sort of abuse Lex suffered himself -- if you read the charity aims and mission statement, that's obvious," Clark replied tersely. "It's where they are *before* they reach there that's the question. If you cross reference the medical data at the hospital where they were treated, you'll find that the kids were listed as being without a guardian. I'll send you the data. I know you think I'm a trusting fool, Lois, you've made no secret of your opinion on that, but I wish you'd get it into your head that I am not an *incompetent* trusting fool!"

"Give me proof that he wasn't there, Clark and I'll believe it. Until then, I'd keep him away from your kid sister, if I were you." She shifted, looking around the loft. "I just find it hard to believe what you're saying."

"And that is what is being preyed upon. All of Metropolis has a suspicion against the Luthor name regardless of the evidence." Clark shook his head. "You've all just assumed. Hard evidence that he wasn't *where*, Lois?"

"That he wasn't with Dominic Senatori, that he doesn't associate with those people. That's the only way he can clear his name, just *because* all of Metropolis is suspicious," Lois defended. "If he has to come out with fists flailing, that's fine. He'll strengthen his position for it."

"Then I'll write a story that will blow all of them out of the water," Clark said folding his arms. "That Lionel Luthor is involved, I have no doubt. That he's responsible for this sudden appearance of evidence, I have no doubt. Believe me, no one in Lex's department would sell him out, not at any price. He'll damn well come out fighting over this one because... you know something, Lois? I don't think you even realize what sort of damage you've done. You've judged him yourself, found him guilty and practically executed him without any qualms. To be honest? I thought better of you."

She looked back at Clark tiredly -- really... looking convinced that she was right, and that was enough to plant a tiny seed of doubt in Clark's mind. Lois was almost always right, wasn't she? "Clark. You're letting this get the better of you. Look, just let me talk with Luthor and see what he has to say. I came all this way to talk to you, but..."

"No. You're not talking to him. He'll be a wreck after this and I'm not going to put him through more now. He might have already had more than he can take. He came here to get away from pressure. He came here because my Dad saved his life, and the conversation they had gave him the strength to pull away from his father, not for any other ulterior motive."

Even if the evidence seemed to be against him, Clark had a feeling about Lex and wasn't going to turn on him. The sort of reactions he had been giving could not have been faked. If Lex faced Senatori again he probably would have gone catatonic.

"So you just... brought him home for Thanksgiving?" Lois asked, lifting an eyebrow at him as she sat down on the arm of a chair.

"Yes. We discovered the connection in the interview, and he said he'd like to meet my dad again. I offered to arrange for him to come to dinner, and spoke to Mom, and well... they invited him." Clark looked at her, glaring a little. "I'm a good judge of people, Lois. Lex isn't capable of what you're suggesting. I mean that in a very practical, physical way. When the analysis came back on the girl, I found him vomiting uncontrollably in the wastebasket in his office. I had to drive him home because he had to take sedatives."

A faintly thoughtful look crossed her face. "Really? I wonder why...?"

"Because it was Senatori." Clark sighed. "And I've seen the pictures recovered from his apartment and... I've seen the data on the trace evidence recovered on the girl's body. Not even Lex has heard the results of the autopsy yet, and that's going to be difficult for him as well. It... It can't go public yet."

"Case in progress." Lois shrugged. "Clark, I can't un-publish it. It's got to be discussed, the paper just can't look at things from one side."

"I know that, but... if you had just _asked_ me Lois, I could have given you the other side of things. I have several articles ready to send in."

Well, give him thirty seconds and he would.

"You just seem to assume I would have nothing to contribute. Ever." Clark looked away a moment. It was a sore point and usually he was too self-depreciating to raise it as a problem, but it was a growing problem and now it had reached a point of fruition.

"Clark... It's not that I'm discrediting you. I just..." Lois shrugged her shoulders. "Look, can we at least go in?"

"You're not speaking to him," Clark said again. "Courtesy demands that I offer you some hospitality, but if you're thinking about this being some way for you to sneak around me and get to him, you can leave now, Lois."

"No, no! I just... wanted to warn you and get your angle on it, Clark, but... I didn't know he was here, or else I wouldn't have driven three hours to get out here," Lois promised. "I won't say a word to him if he doesn't want me to."

"Then come in," Clark said with a sigh. It was a hard thing to be really and truly disappointed in a friend, and he was disappointed because he just couldn't see how anyone could deliberately cause that sort of pain to another person because it was the 'story'. It was 'a story' not _the_ story. 'The story' was the whole thing, start to finish, built from truth and fleshed out with empathy. He believed in that passionately, not these short cuts. "I'll get my data and you can tell me if you think I'm still an ignorant hick."

"Okay. Sure. I'd appreciate that, Clark." Lois moved to lead the way down from the loft. "So, uh... I guess you're going to run off and see how he is?"

"Yes." There had been a time when he might have apologized for that, but right now he felt he was doing particularly well to even be remotely civil to Lois. "I made a promise to him. I intend to keep it."

"Okay. Just... keep what I said in mind," she offered a little warily.

And after that, they headed back to the house itself in relative silence.

The opportunity to actually use his cell phone to call anyone hadn't provided itself yet. He'd gotten it and his pills out of the car, had headed back in, and...

Martha had said something to him, and he'd just cracked. He wasn't sure what had happened, how he'd gone from looking for a glass of water to shaking sharply and starting to cry, but... it had happened.

She'd helped him upstairs, and he'd been sick in the toilet. Hadn't even gotten his pills in him yet.

She'd taken him back to his room, talking in a low soothing voice that he wasn't really hearing, and guided him to the bed to sit there even as she talked to him and he couldn't even focus to listen properly. He felt like everything in him was bleeding away through brittle shards and if he had been coherent enough to do anything rash he probably would have done it.

He did notice the addition of another voice and when Martha left his side. It took a little while to realize it was Clark, and that was only when Clark sat close beside him and he remembered the scent of him. He hadn't been expecting the arm around him either.

His ears felt like they were filled with static, a roar of blood in his ears. Things slipped into his consciousness in chips and blips, and he finally noticed Clark enough to turn into him, starting to let go. It was all pent up, needed to get out. How dare she? How... dare she pick apart his, his life's work?

The arms slipped around him easily, providing a safe zone where he could loose his anger and hurt and years' worth of curdled emotion. He couldn't control it. Couldn't control his runaway emotions, couldn't calm down. It just escalated, until he was shaking and exhausted against Clark. And he still didn't feel better.

But he was starting to make out some of the words being murmured to him. "Shush, it's okay, we'll find a way to fix it, I promise. We can fight this, get the truth out, don't worry. It's not destroyed..."

"It, it is..." His voice was a bare, cracked whisper against Clark's chest. "I don't know what I'll do, I... Everyone's going to, to... to think that it's true...." He clung, hands tight on whatever parts of Clark he could get.

"Not when I'm done. Not when we turn the tables. I'll write a damn Pulitzer if I have to." Clark rocked him closer, holding tight to Lex. "I've got Lois reassessing the data. I swear, Lex, we're going to kick back hard. Before we get back, there'll be an article that starts to mend this."

He tried to say something else, and choked a sob against Clark. "Does, does every... everyone think I'm like that?"

"There will be many that will judge, but those who know you won't," Clark said with blunt honesty, even as he stroked a comforting hand down Lex's back. "I'm so sorry, Lex, I should have... done something. Stopped this."

A shudder wracked Lex, but he leaned into Clark more, like he could hide against him. "S-shouldn't... have gone back to Metropolis. Should've gone somewhere else, anywhere else..."

"No, no... you can face this Lex, you can win," Clark encouraged in an intense low voice. "I know you can. You can finish this once and for all -- break free of what they've done."

It wasn't that easy, Lex knew it, but he wanted to believe that it could be. He wanted to believe that things could really be fixed, even... even if they really couldn't. It wasn't the same once things had been snapped as many times as he'd been. Hell, as many times as his reputation had been. So he just kept clinging, trying to calm down, trying to find some measure of comfort in hiding there. "Shouldn't... have to."

"No, you're right, you shouldn't," Clark murmured. "But that's a failing in *them*, not in you. Understand? Not in you."

Sure. Whatever Clark was telling him, it seemed good to nod to, so Lex did. Between the warmth that he was becoming more and more cognizant about, and the faint touches, the warm voice, he was starting to calm down. Concentrate on breathing slowly and he'd be fine. No hyperventilating.

"That's it... that's it, you're safe." Clark murmured things quietly, as if he wasn't sure that he was being heard at all, but trying to communicate the feeling.

It took time. It took longer than Lex would've guessed that it should take, but he finally slackened his grip on Clark, shifting to make himself more comfortable, wiping at his eyes. "Sorry..."

"You don't need to be sorry about anything," Clark replied in a low voice. "There's nothing you need to apologize for."

"I got snot on your flannel?" Lex laughed, more of a choking noise than actual laughter. Lifting his head made it throb, but he couldn't just... hide. Even if it was the most instinctual thing for him to do, and the thing he'd never quite been allowed to do. No, he'd always been sprawled out, stretched out, on sick display for people...

For the kind of people that he was accused of being.

"Good thing it's green," Clark replied, looking directly at him. His eyes were an intense blue, startlingly so as he looked at Lex. "Blend right in." He shifted to support Lex a little more comfortably, his hand warm over the back of Lex's neck as he moved him carefully.

He could've sworn that Clark's eyes were green. Maybe they were and he was just hallucinating. Or he was wrong. Either way, it didn't matter too much. Lex ducked his head down, and sighed against the collar of Clark's shirt. He wasn't going to pay attention to their very strange position, and state of overdress.

They stayed like that for a long time before Clark murmured, "How're you feeling?"

"Sick." The answer cut two ways, and Clark could interpret it as best as he liked.

"Yeah?" Clark probed a little. "In a... I'm going to add color to the plaid way, or in... a different way?"

"Gingerbread cookies taste really bad coming back up." Lex smiled a little blearily, eyes heavy and aching with tiredness as he peeked at Clark from the corner of his vision. "I don't know. Bad. I really... need to make some phone calls."

"Give us chance to get a game plan going," Clark replied. "I can have an article done and to the Planet to hit the presses tomorrow morning. I had the ground work and research done." Never mind that there didn't seem to have been time for him to have done it, Lois didn't have to know he had apparently spent all his time doing everything but write.

"What... game plan?"

"Fixing this," Clark replied, as if it were obvious. "Bringing them to justice. Clearing your name."

They were simple, pure concepts that were unfamiliar to Lex.

"But... how? I need to... need to call, to get lawyers to... I don't know." Lex sighed quietly, shifting almost restlessly. "I want a retraction. It's... it's all lies."

"We find and expose the leak, we find and expose the *real* perpetrators. All of them. You need to speak to Winters, Lex, and discuss what you can reveal at this stage. Make the leak his problem as well," Clark said gravely. "It's best to fight the media with the media. Leave that to me. And Lois... Lois will at least print any facts, even if they contradict a previous theory. She's brutally honest that way, even if she thinks she knows everything."

More nodding, but at least this time Lex could more sincerely agree with what he was nodding to. "Okay... I..." He shifted to try to get off Clark, so he could get to his coat pocket, even if he didn't want to vacate that comfortable position.

"Easy." Clark was treating him as if he were fragile, as if a single touch could hurt him. The odd thing was there was no pity in his expression, only sympathy.

Lex *knew* pity, knew what it looked like. Sympathy made the gesture different, somehow bearable. He accepted the help and shifted back off of Clark and onto the guest bed. From there he could get into his coat and get his phone. "Could you... stay here...?"

"Leeex...? Claaaark?" That was Lara's voice, small and curious from outside in the hallway. "Momma wanted to know if you needed ginger ale and crackers."

"I'll stay. Lex, you want anything?" Clark replied even as he looked to the door. "Hold on a sec, Lar!"

"That sounds okay," Lex assented, pressing the button that would turn his phone back on. "Might get the taste out of my mouth."

"Back in a moment." Clark stepped up to the door and then leaned outside. "That would be great, thanks kiddo. Is... uh... is Lois still downstairs?"

"Yeah. Mom doesn't look happy with her," Lara scowled. "Is Lex gunna be okay?"

"Yes." Clark said that with a surety that could not be questioned -- at least, not questioned by his little sister. "But he's hurt. And he needs help."

Lara's mouth tugged into a frown. "Are you going to help him, CeeKay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Every way I can," Clark said looking down at her serious expression. "I think he deserves, it don't you?"

"Uh-huh." Lara smiled a little, and peered past Clark like she could see through the closed door. "I like him. He's cool. So should I get crackers and ginger ale?"

"Yeah, and anything else you think he might like. Keep an eye on Lois for me, will you?"

"I can do that," Lara smiled at him. She didn't know that Lois had set it all off, and it was probably better that way. Part of keeping Lara a kid, instead of letting her grow up too fast. So she ran off, leaving Clark to contemplate what to do, and Lex to contemplate his cell phone.

Never before had the flip phone seemed so daunting to Lex.

Clark reentered the room and watched him a moment. "Who's winning? You or the phone?"

"Phone." Lex sighed, and flicked through the menu to call up Winters. He'd been stalling until Clark had come back into the room.

Clark sat down next to him, watching him dial and listening in. Winters was probably at home. What were the odds of him having his work phone turned on?

~"Winters?"~

High, it seemed.

"It's Lex." He leaned back against the headboard. "I just... found out about the story."

~"I wondered when it might reach you,"~ Winters said, sounding tired and weary as if his holiday time had been anything but a holiday. ~"How are you taking it?"~

"... badly?" Lex suggested with a weak laugh. Shaking, throwing up, crying... Badly summed it up pretty well. He was fine as long as he wasn't really thinking about it.

~"I can imagine that. God,"~ Winters exhaled audibly. ~"That's the last time I trust a reporter. I'm sorry Lex, they've really done a number on you this time. I'm fighting it here, but I think whoever they've got to is quite high up the chain." ~

Lex nodded into the phone, then cleared his throat a little. "It's... it's not Kent's doing. He's been here with... it's a long story. But he invited me home for Thanksgiving. He didn't have anything to do with that... that shit."

~"Oh. Oh, right."~ Winters paused. ~"Right. Lex, at the moment there's a big move to investigate you now, despite all the evidence. It's ridiculous, but it's happened before. The O.J. trial for one. I want to try and play down the media sensation and hype."~

"How?" Lex swallowed. "They can investigate me. I, I don't have anything to hide. Except for my dignity, but..." It wasn't worth much if he was already being smeared as a pedophile.

~"I'm going to have to release some details ahead of time, about the case. I know you must feel shaken, but you must try and come in to work as normal. I have to maintain an appearance of complete confidence in you, and you need to justify that. Understand?"~ Winters knew how to play the games of politics, and for once that was a comfort to Lex. ~"They expect me to roll over on you, Lex, because they want the case to die. We've got a link to three other major names, including your father and I'm willing to bet this is an exercise in scapegoating."~

He had to exhale, slowly, shakily. "Not... not surprised to hear that." He gave a small glance up to Clark, then went back to looking down at his boots. The left one needed a shine. "I'll still.... try to be back on Sunday. It's just... my charity. I can't believe..." That Lois had extended it beyond a mere personal attack, to attacking his work.

~ "If you read the article, Lex, unfortunately it looks all too logical. There does have to be a brokering agency of some description for something of this magnitude to be going on unnoticed. Something that covers things with a veneer of respectability."~ Winters cleared his throat. ~"Your charity fits the criteria. The worst thing is that the databases there were struck by a mystery virus just as the news came out... so we're stuck, unable to prove otherwise."~

Clark cleared his throat and tapped Lex on the arm to get his attention and mouthed the words "I have a copy."

Lex's eyes all but lit up, and he relayed, "Clark has a copy."

~"...a copy? How the..."~ Winters was momentarily speechless. ~"Excellent. Excellent news. That should be enough to vindicate the charity and your connection especially as it was preserved by one of the reporters of the Paper that appeared to be going after you. How did he get it? Why does he have it?"~

"I guess... he was really investigating the story himself?" Lex half suggested, lifting his head a little to look at Clark as he said it.

"Partly. Got the site password from one of the staff. There was a security loophole and I... uh, exploited it. It allowed me access to the web enabled databases so I uh... FTP'd the entire site while I was doing other things, to look over later." Clark replied. "That was on... Wednesday. I guess the same loophole would make it vulnerable to being hacked though.""

"Oh." Lex paused a moment, then leaned his head against the headboard again and closed his eyes. "Clark found a loophole that let him get the databases, and that was probably the one that let the... virus get it."

~"Well at least we have a copy. That will go a long way to shooting this story down. If they'll do that."~ Winters sounded less tired now he had a direction. ~"I've put Klaus on hunting the leak. Adam might have killed someone."~

At that point, would it be so bad? Well. CSI kills leak suspect... Yeah, that was bad. Lex's mouth thinned out. "Okay. What arrests have been made? I've... been relaxing, so I'm out of the loop." Which was bad when the loop was forming around your *neck*.

~"Senatori is sewn up. Your DNA work confirmed it, the sperm condition gave a time of assault and he has no credible alibi. Kieran has pulled out all the stops on the autopsy. It was worse than we thought."~ Winters cleared his throat. ~"I haven't seen Kieran take an autopsy that hard for a long time. Chloe and Adam have evidence linking to Morley of ProTechnic and Richardson of the Rexis Corporation. They've been arrested, and are in questioning. If we get _that_ story out there, it may well overshadow this distraction. We've started fanning out to Morgan Edge and your father."~

He sighed tightly again. "Okay. Do you want me to come back to Metropolis just yet, or...?"

~"I want you at work on Sunday like we agreed,"~ Winters said. ~"Tell Kent that I want that database dump immediately. And if he's planning something, send it to me first. Things are moving fast and if we block this attempt to ruin you, they may try something different."~

"I'll have him email it to you," Lex agreed. "If you need to get a hold of me... Clark, can he just call here? I know my father's going to keep trying my phone. Voicemail is full just from him."

"Yeah, sure. No problem. Or my mobile. I'll send it over." Clark agreed readily enough, leaning in towards the phone so Winters could hear him.

~"Good. And keep that voicemail as well -- just in case."~ Winters said. ~"You're doing better than I thought, Lex."~

He gave a faint laugh, nervous, and switched the phone to the other ear. "You missed me an hour ago. Pills are starting to kick in now."

~"Ah. Look, Lex... you have my full support okay? We've got the checks we run automatically for the department as well, and with this data from Kent, we can refute this. I'm going to make the legal response departmental based okay? We'll respond to it not as if it's a personal attack, but on the basis that they're endangering an investigation. If they don't back down, then we'll get personal lawyers involved. My other phone is going Lex, I'm going to have to go, I'm expecting a call from the big boss so.."~

"Right. I'll let you go. Goodbye, Fred." Lex saved the time of a protracted good-bye, and just closed his phone.

Life went on, right? He still needed to call the charity. Probably call Bruce. Things like that weren't his area of expertise. Wooing money for the foundation, talking with shopkeepers... the groundwork. He liked the groundwork, tangible things.

"Sounded good," Clark said supportively. "He's fighting your corner for you. I guess it's a bit late to apologize for that hack into the charity database, then?"

"I like to believe that most of humanity is natively good, so I'll accept any reasonable explanation for why you did it. Particularly since it's going to end up being... a good thing for me." Through some act of God, he managed to say that serenely.

"You just learn to collect information when it comes up. I went in looking for supporting information," Clark said, looking a little sheepish. "There was no specific agenda."

He nodded when Clark said that, listening intently more to Clark's tone than his words. Clark was... one of the good ones. Good enough to invite a guy he barely knew home with him, good enough to trust Lex with his family. "Okay. That's all I needed to hear."

"So, you going to call anyone else?" Clark asked, consciously keeping his tone gentle.

Yes. No. Lex didn't know. He wanted to take the rest of the pills he was allowed for the day and just slip into a Diazepam induced haze. That was what he wanted to do. "Need to call the Foundation's secretary. And probably Wayne Manor again. Alfred's probably tired of passing shit on for me by now."

"You can hijack my mobile if you want," Clark said. "Do you want me to stay, or should I go and see about sending that database to Winters? Lara's bringing you up some ginger ale and crackers. But if you prefer, I can get my stuff and come upstairs? Only, I'll have to see to Lois at some point."

"As long as I don't have to see her." He wasn't too angry -- sick, a little scared that anyone could suspect him of that, sure. But not angry. "Whatever you want to do, Clark. Really. I... I'm not in much of a state for thinking right now."

"You get a little rest, and I'll come back up later, and stay with you." Clark hesitated a moment. "Would it help if I put out a spare bed in here tonight?"

Lex wanted to say no. Just because the room was small and tight and he had to wonder how a guy as big as Clark lived in it. But... "Could you?" Just because he wasn't sure that *he* could handle being out in the loft.

"You said you wanted me to stay, so yeah. You can just about fit the guest bed down the side here, if you push the other to one side." Clark nodded. "It won't take long and then you won't be alone."

There was a knock at the door and Lara's voice said. "I've got a tray of stuff! Can you open the door, CeeKay?"

"Great." Lex shifted to sit on the edge of the bed instead of leaning back, phone still in hand. He... really needed to make those calls, because he could imagine the situation growing worse and worse with every second.

Clark let in Lara who very carefully brought in the tray and put it down, regarding Lex with an assessing gaze. "Are you okay, Lex?" she asked finally.

He forced himself to smile, and set the phone off to his other side. He could wait a little. The tray had a lot of things that he suspected were on Martha Kent's list of 'food to offer people after they throw up'. because he was *sure* that she had a list like that, having raised two kids on a farm. Saltine crackers, what looked like raspberry ginger ale, and a bowl of dry Cheerios. Thoughtful. "Yeah. I just... got some bad news."

"Don't bother Lex, LK," Clark said hastily.

"I'm not bothering him, I'm just making sure he's okay," Lara said, glaring at her older brother. "It would be *rude* not to. Wouldn't it, Lex?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her again, taking the tray carefully to balance it on his knees, and reaching for the faintly fizzy glass. "Thanks for asking."

She beamed at him as if he had given her a prize, and then nearly ruined the balancing act by giving him a quick hug. "Feel better, Lex!" was declared before she bounced out of the room, happy with her good deed.

He was still smiling crookedly by the time that he lifted the glass to his mouth to take a sip. Ice cold, which was what he needed despite that it was cold outside. "She's a good kid."

"And a great judge of character," Clark replied. "You can rest assured that if she likes you, you're someone really worth liking." He grinned at him as he got up to go to the door. "Don't you forget that."

"I'll try not to," he assured, voice a little wry. The ginger ale was good, and... it was strange to feel pampered after a blow like that. He usually had to fit the pieces back together himself, and he wasn't sure how long that would've taken if he'd been at home. He probably would've gone to sleep on the bathroom floor after throwing up. "I'm going to make those last couple of calls now."

Clark pulled his phone out his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. "Use my phone if you want to. I'll be downstairs hashing things out with Lois, if you need me. Need anything. Just call if you do, you don't have to come down if you don't want."

Lex's mouth twitched a little as he turned his own phone -- the main point of communication people had for finding him -- off, and picked up Clark's while trying to not unseat his tray. "Thanks. I'll be okay now, though."

Clark seemed to take him at his word and after nodding briefly and giving him a bright smile, he disappeared from Lex's sanctuary back down to where Lois was waiting.

Clark had a bit of a headache from all of this. It hurt to not do anything. He wanted nothing more than to leap into action and save the day. And then he would realize that there was nothing Superman or his abilities could do. Nothing at all. He felt totally powerless, even though he was using every advantage he could. So much for the battle against evil -- it only worked when evil tried to rush up to him and smack him in the face.

Sure, he could save the day in a fist fight or something violent, but... what about things like that? What did he do when the hurt was years old and the enemy was his own partner in reporting?

He peeked into the room after he closed the door behind him, just to see how Lex was doing, and if how he was acting was just a facade to make Clark feel okay leaving him. The faint smile faltered a little once Clark had closed the door, but he seemed content to turn on Clark's phone, occasionally popping a Cheerio into his mouth while he dialed the number.

Lex hung in there, and he'd be okay for as long as it took Clark to talk to Lois.

He had been too angry to really talk before. She had a way of getting to him that he couldn't understand. He'd known Chloe most of his life and yet she never quite managed to jab him so shockingly as Lois had in her first couple of days in Smallville. Things hadn't improved in their years of association, although the fact there was an association apparently revealed he had, in Perry's own words, 'inhuman patience'.

He'd nearly laughed at that. Or would have done if it had been at all funny rather than merely ironic.

Every now and then she stopped dancing along that fine line and dropped over the edge and usually he'd catch her before she would fall.

He sighed before he entered the living room downstairs. Sometimes he really wished he could give up being noble and forgiving. It did nothing for his stress level.

"Lois. How's it going?"

"Pretty awkwardly," she told him candidly. "Your family's out in the kitchen muttering, and I think your dad went to see something about the cows."

"Well, my Mom takes her hospitality seriously," Clark replied, coming over to perch on the edge of a chair and look over her shoulder. "We've been talking to Lex's boss. I have some work to do.... what did you make of my data?"

"Well, it... looks pretty spotless," Lois admitted, looking up at him from the screen of Clark's laptop, which she had balanced on both her knees. "Here, you need to do work? Can you put them on a disk for me? I can transfer them over to... oh, that laptop over there in the case with the swiss-army symbol on it. And keep looking there." There was a faint, wicked gleam in Lois's eyes

"So now you want to hack into Lex's laptop?" Clark sighed. "Lois, can't you ever give it a break? Doesn't the fact it's only by chance that I have a copy of this database that they're going to be able to refute the claims of this mysterious source? You think it's coincidence that the thing got wiped by a virus the day after I took the download?"

"In the world of Luthors, there is no such thing as a coincidence. I still want to peek at his laptop. You can even supervise me, Clark. A look into a laptop is a look into a man's mind," she assured him even as she got up and offered Clark's laptop back to him.

"I'm not comfortable about hacking into it without him knowing," Clark replied uneasily. "I can go ask him."

"Clark, it won't even be hacking," Lois assured firmly. "I'll just boot it up. If there's a password, then you can ask."

Clark sighed. "Fine. I'll take a mirror of the hard drive. After what happened with the database, I don't trust it if they confiscate it for evidence. Someone tampered with that evidence."

"Right. See?" Lois grinned at him as she moved to get the bag. "Someone could plant something on his hard-drive... or, you know. It could already be there."

He had no idea how she did it. How she bounced back from other people's disapproval like that. God knew he thought he'd been harsh and disapproving, and yet she seemed to have no remorse, not feeling for anything beyond the shape of the story. "I'll get my zip drive. If there's a password then I'll go upstairs and I'll tell Lex what I'm doing."

She was already unzipping the case and pulling the Alienware laptop out of the 'seatbelt' that held it securely in its padding. "Sure."

Years of fighting Lionel and the assorted Smallville dangers and Jor-El and reporting in Metropolis had made the shades of gray in the mid-zone of morality a familiar place to Clark, but he didn't like it. He could only mentally justify the action with an intent that would protect or bring a greater good in the end and even then he felt very uncomfortable. He fetched the zip drive, half hoping there was a password so he would have to go talk to Lex about it.

Lois had it running on the sofa beside her, and Clark could see the windows screen come, then go and... then Lex's desktop came up. No passwording at all, which boded well for Lex not hiding bad things on it.

It didn't help that Lois was smirking.

Clark chanted mental mantra to himself of reasons why he must not abuse his powers. Not even when it would be really good to find some way to impress on Lois the importance of integrity and ethics. She sometimes acted as if they were totally alien concepts.

"I would say that's a good sign," he said, trying to ignore the smirk. It wasn't that he *wanted* to be a self righteous bastard, but sometimes Lois could make a hardened criminal look that way by standing next to them.

"God, Clark. Is this guy for real?" Lois asked, gesturing to the wallpaper on the screen. A LEGO motorcycle. She didn't let that stay up for long, though, and went right away to dig into the documents.

"He likes LEGO. I think he finds it... therapeutic," Clark replied with a faint smile. "If you tried to know more than the convenient facts you would understand that he likes to try and build things, make things work, get solutions and answers."

"Uh-huh. That makes him either a really sad thirty something, Clark, or a creepy man who knows kids like LEGO. See, it cuts both ways here." All of the documents were pretty cryptically named -- one word, two words, things like that. Lois hovered the cursor over the choices, trying to find the 'lucky' one as was her habit. "Wow. The guy does a lot of writing."

"There's no crime in writing. Unless it happens to be a libelous article," Clark said, glancing over her shoulder.

"Which that wasn't," Lois pointed out as she double-clicked. "I wrote on the evidence, and the evidence said that your friend upstairs likes to... well." She didn't say anything else because Lara was *just* in the other room, helping Martha make something, from the sound of it. For all Lois knew, it could've been poison-tipped darts for throwing at her head.

"The evidence was a fabrication. It's a fine line." Clark said. That first document appeared to be a fundraiser template with a selection of case study histories attached. Evidently it was pitched at the rich, using a combination of emotive language and logic to make its point. "Nothing wrong with that. Quite the opposite."

"Uh-huh." She scanned over the words, paying them only half a mind while she speed-read. It was obvious to Clark that she didn't want to have time to react to the case-histories that Lex had typed up. "Mmm, it's dated for this coming December. Let's try another one."

"What are you looking for exactly?" Clark asked. He could have read the entire drive as fast as the computer if he had been alone.

"Anything weird. Usually people hiding things on computers hide them in plain sight, but with, say... a cryptic file name."

"Well look for a cryptic file name then," Clark said patiently. "I think you can assume that the CharLett1, 2, 3 and all that are what they say they are."

"Unless one of them is for selling the kids off like hookers," Lois came back at him with. She didn't click one of those. She opened up a dubious looking file called 'dusk'.

That was evidently not a letter. Even a cursory glance at the formatting revealed that it was writing. Clark scanned it, his eyes widening.

'Hope had faded into twilight shadows of a near despair. Devilicus had never realized how hard it was to face the night alone. He thought he had tasted all there was of loss and bitterness, only to find himself gifted with one more flavor to be consumed, before...'

Wait, wait. He _knew_ that. That was a fanfic he had read. A particularly uh, well yeah... hot one, at that. Sweet, powerful and full of angst.

"... Devilicus...?" Lois looked over at Clark, questioningly.

"Warrior Angel comics. This is Warrior Angel fiction." He looked at the pen name and raised his eyebrows. DarkHanded. He knew that name. That was a Big Name in the Warrior Angel fanfic arena. He also appreciated the aptness and irony of the name now in a way he hadn't before. And how exactly could he tell Lois how he knew all this? He could feel himself blushing.

Lois, of course, shot one look at Clark, and then started to scroll down to a midpoint. A few words popped out at Clark -- cock, suck, tonguing -- while Lois cleared her throat. "Okay. Gay Warrior Angel fiction...? So he's not into kiddie porn, just comic book porn and plastic bricks."

"It's... uh... generally pretty romantic Gay Warrior Angel fiction," Clark said nearly cringing as the words came out. "Um. Yeah."

"And you know this because... you're a purveyor of it yourself?" Lois looked like she was going to bust a gut keeping her laughter in, and it would've served her right. "You... Oh, God, Clark. You're a trip."

Clark folded his arms as he did when he was feeling a bit insecure. "Well, yeah. I do."

"Now I understand why you two hit it off so well," Lois winked at him, and scrolled down a little further on the document. "Aren't you supposed to be mailing something to some crime scene guy?"

"Yeah." Clark was definitely flustered. "I'll just do that and finish up on a possible article. You can look it over. Let me know if you find anything, but put the zip drive on to copy while you are doing it."

"Clark, unless that zip drive's a 40 gig, it's not going to cut it," Lois tsked as she closed that file -- finally -- and pulled up another that Clark wasn't sure was any better.

"Hmm." Clark looked at it a moment. "I've got an old hard drive somewhere, maybe we can plug that in? Either that or I'm going to be up burning a lot of DVD's"

"Either or," Lois agreed as she started to read over another file. "Let me know when your little sister's coming? She definitely is too young for these."

"Too young for what?"

Lara was standing behind Lois trying to see and Clark rather hurriedly stepped to intercept her. "Uh, for the material we're looking at for this story, LK."

That of course was exactly the wrong thing to say to a precocious 8 year old. "I am *not* too young!" Lara protested with her hands on her hips.

"Trust me, kiddo, you are," Clark turned to her. "Can you remember where I put the bits of the old computer? In the junk cupboard?"

"Yeah." Lara was sulking a little . "But maybe I'm not *old* enough to get them." Clark looked at her until she relented a bit. "It's not fair; you're always saying I'm not old enough!"

Clark smiled a little. "In this case, kiddo, I don't think I'm really old enough to deal with this sort of stuff. But someone has to."

Lara turned to go and fetch the box and Clark caught the plaintive protest under her breath, "But it's always you."

She could still surprise him even now, even not being sure how much influence the ship's interference had made to her and being ready for differences. So far she was a normal, very bright young girl and Clark found himself hoping to God that she would remain that way. She was a miracle to their family, but he always had to wonder if she'd get to experience the normal childhood that he hadn't.

"She'll thank you when she's older. Or, you know. Sulk about it forever," Lois said, twisting sideways a little so at least she couldn't be snuck up on from behind again. She was on another document, scanning them quicker. "This is real smush, you know that, Clark?"

He flushed again. "Yeah, I know." He busied himself on his own laptop a moment to cover his embarrassment. Romantic, and idealistic. He knew those stories maybe a little too well.

"Okay. Every document so far is something about raising funds, publicizing events, or two men in spandex getting it on. I think it's time to run the search tool to see if there's any deep folders, but..."

"You won't find anything else, Lois," Clark said even as Lara tromped back in, dumped the box, and stomped off, showing her displeasure in the traditional way of children all over the world in a spate of overacting. He rustled around and found the hard drive. "Here we go."

"Great." Lois grinned at him. "Give me the cable and let me reboot."

Clark passed it over, mentally reminding himself he was doing this to protect Lex. He was also aware of the fact that he did need Lois on his side and this was possibly the only way it was going to happen. When she could sneak an answer she was more convinced of it's veracity than any truth offered freely.

Maybe she was like that from long years of reporting prowess. People offered lies a lot, so the only way to know was to verify it behind their backs. Which... hadn't worked out so well for Lex this time. Clark watched for a moment as Lois hooked up the external drive, and rebooted.

"So, you want to tell me about how you're so... familiar with those stories? Or is this just part of some geek mating ritual?"

"Take a wild guess, Lois," Clark said a little wearily. "I'll give you a clue -- there's a reason Chloe gave me a Warrior Angel subscription for my birthday. As for the rest of it..." He shrugged. They'd never made a big deal of his preferences. He was teased frequently about being asexual as opposed to anything else. The truth was that Clark wasn't even sure if he was anything sexual in particular or whether he was purely attracted to the person, because so far his reactions that way had been wildly ranging from male to female with the law of averages just tilting him gay.

"You just happened to be looking for it." Lois's eyebrows went up a little, but her eyes were trained on the screen. "You know, Kent, it's unhealthy to get involved with your story."

"It's how I work," Clark replied, trying to sound casual. That was true enough, he did get to know his stories. He remembered them and that slice of life that he touched but... this was more than a good rapport. He couldn't forget the way Lex had looked at him even from that first moment. He couldn't explain the instinctive trust he had in him when, yeah, perhaps he should have been suspicious. Rationally he should be thinking of that side of things but it was rejected by his mind without even a second thought. "He deserves some help."

"After what I saw in the loft, if what you've said is right... Yeah, some serious mental help." That was Lois's tack to everything. The hard 'let someone else fix it, please' way.

That, he guessed, summed up the difference between him and practically everyone else. When Lois saw something like that, she recognized the need for something to be done, but any aid she would give was through a story. When he saw that sort of thing, he wanted to fix it. Personally. He wanted to move heaven and earth to make things right and somehow he didn't exactly choose to make it his responsibility, but it just hardwired itself into the way he thought and felt in such a way as to make no difference. "I have a great deal of respect for the way he's coped with it. Knowing what he went through, or at least some of it."

"You're being mum on the details, Clark. You want to care to share a little of what he went through?" Lois looked over, seeming to have forgotten that she'd just stopped Lara from seeing a piece of fiction, but didn't seem to phase her that she was asking for Clark to discuss, aloud, something a lot worse.

"Lois, it would seriously turn your stomach. I'm not talking about it here, okay?" Clark said stiffly. "Not where my family is liable to hear. Suffice it to say it was enough to affect the CSI team even after what they've seen in their time working Metropolis."

"Sounds gruesome." Lois smiled, and made sure that the files were moving the way they should, then sat back. "They're moving over as read-only. So, if they're so gruesome... I mean, why's he still alive?"

"Because..." Clark paused, wondering a moment. That was a good question. There were things in the photo evidence that could have been potentially fatal. Did he have some ability to recover, to survive? He had been present at the meteor impact, it was possible that he might heal that way. "...because he's Lionel Luthor's son? Truthfully, I don't know, but I hope to God they're trying to get hold of his medical records before they get compromised too."

"If someone's trying to wipe him out, particularly if it's his father, then he's probably already hit everything he can." And wasn't that a shining, bright thought? No. It couldn't hurt Lois to be a little optimistic every *once* in a while. "I think it's sort of sad. That someone would do that to their kid."

'Sort of sad' was just incredibly inadequate. "It's monstrous, Lois. It's not 'sort of sad', it's as close to evil as I can imagine. Evil starts when you begin to treat people like objects. He used his own son, sold him with full knowledge of what he was doing, to fund his own ambitions. He used him as a possession. That's more than 'sort of sad'."

"Wait, he did all that to Lex to make *money*?" Lois's eyes lit up, and Clark knew immediately that she'd just found a whole new angle for business corruption. "That was used in, what? LuthorCorp?"

"Who sold Mr. Lex?" Lara had wandered back, and was now standing just on the edge of the living room, frowning and holding a mug of cocoa. Martha came up behind her.

Damn. "Look, this isn't the right time to talk about this, Lois," Clark said hastily. "Um, Lara? I don't want you talking about that okay?"

"But I want to *know*." Denial of information was probably the fastest way to get a kid's interest. Martha knew what to do, it seemed, as she steered Lara into the living room to sit down.

"Honey, your brother and... Lois are working to help Lex. When Lex was your age, his father was very mean to him and caused him a lot of pain. You know how I told you to tell me or another adult you trust if someone touches you where they shouldn't?" Martha glanced at both Lois *and* Clark, a warning in her eyes. That it wasn't to be discussed any further where Lara could hear. God, Clark could remember when *he'd* been given the 'bad touching, yell fire' speech by both of his parents. Before they knew that he was super strong and super fast and safe from everything but green rocks and heartache.

Lara nodded even as she regarded them all with an expression that seemed beyond her years. "But... it was his Dad? I don't understand. Dads don't do that. They can't be Dads if they do that."

"I wouldn't call him a good dad," Lois offered

"You're right. No one would call Lionel Luthor a good father, Lara. I'm not sure of all the circumstances, because Lex doesn't like to talk about it, but more than his father was involved. And these people have done the same thing to other children. And now it's being investigated by the police."

"And by Clark. Which means that it will be made better," Lara declared, with complete faith in her older brother's abilities. "He's good at fixing things."

Clark gave a slightly nervous laugh. "Hey, don't forget Lois, too."

Lara sniffed. "'pends if she's stopped being nasty to Lex."

Lois actually looked offended. "Look, I didn't know what was going on when I upset him so badly. It won't happen again." Clark couldn't believe that one comment from his little sister got more of a sign of contrition than his various bouts of shouting and moralizing.

Lara had her hands on her hips. "Good. Because just 'cos you didn't know doesn't mean it didn't hurt. You should apologize. I had to apologize when I broke Gemma's doll even though I didn't know I'd walked on it. But it was her favorite, and she cried, and even though I didn't mean it, she was still hurt. And this is *much* worse than that."

Martha looked immensely proud of Lara, even as she pulled at her shoulder to make her sit down. "Yes, it is. But I don't think Lex wants to hear an apology right now. Why don't you stay here and play one of your video games for a while, while I go see that he's all right?"

"Okay!"

Lara was distracted and Clark breathed a sigh of relief. "Mom, I said I'd put the guest bed in with him tonight okay? If you're going up, maybe you could get out some blankets for me?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Now you and Lois behave yourself. Remember, Lara is keeping an eye on you both," Martha said even as she turned to go upstairs.

Lois was quiet until Martha was out of sight, then leaned over to Clark and whispered. "Guest bed, huh? Why?"

"Because the way he was earlier, I don't want to risk him... doing something stupid when he's left alone," Clark said. "And he asked."

That sucked all the lewdness out of her comment. "Oh. I didn't know that it'd affect him so badly." Lois kept her voice low, knowing that Lara was just starting up her game system.

"No. I know." It wasn't worth trying to argue with Lois. Sooner or later he reached a plateau of this nigh on despair and wondered if it really was him that saw everything so differently. "But it has, and it does, and it will."

"Right. I guess... I'd better keep looking for things." Lois cleared her throat and then went quiet.

Leaving Clark to contemplate the email that he was sending to Lex's supervisor, and the music of Lara's Pikmin game.

He'd rather move a mountain than deal with all this. And he meant that literally. He started writing and the words flowed, his anger giving him an edge in his writing that didn't usually exist. An edge like Lois's pieces usually had, but mixed with his own peculiar blending of empathy and compassion.

In those strained moments in the aftermath of a long day, Clark realized abruptly that somehow he had finally found that mythical thing that the big names in reporting all had, that he had studied and analyzed. His reporter's 'Voice'.

Now all he had to do was use it to do some good.

He was being cosseted.

Reactions within the house had been a range of things, most of which Lex hadn't expected. Lara seemed defiantly eager to make sure that he was okay. Martha was treating him like she was one of her kids, like he fit right in with Clark or Lara. Jonathan was still the same warm, enveloping man that he'd met that day on the riverbank, a real solid father figure. He seemed... a lot like Clark. Sympathy, not pity.

And Lois Lane could go to hell.

"I'm not really asleep, Clark. But thanks for being quiet." He shifted his head a little, turning to look over at the man who was quietly getting into bed. Lex had already showered, had enough from his bowl of Cheerios, and laid down a while before.

"I didn't want to disturb you if you were resting," Clark said, settling in. "Sorry I left you on your own so long. How did the calls go?"

"Decently." He took in a slow breath, then shifted to lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling instead of facing the nearest wall. "You don't know how much people care about you until there's a crisis."

"The Charity? Or Bruce Wayne?" Clark shifted a little. His bed was squashed so close that he was only a few feet away. If that. Lex wasn't much of a judge of distance in that sort of low light.

"Both. He was threatening to come here and get me." Lex laughed a little. "I guess he thought I'd... done something stupid. Do you know him? I mentioned your name and he... changed his tune immediately."

"We've met once or twice. I did a profile on some function he came to in Metropolis," Clark replied. Saved his ass when he got in over his head with a meta-human and then promptly had to be saved by him. A messy story, intense and complicated, just like the man himself. "I think, compared to the normal fare of reporters, that I'm 'acceptable'"

Lex turned his head a little, and shifted his hands where they rested loosely over his stomach. "I'd guess you're more than acceptable. Back when we were kids, Bruce and I... well. You don't let mental patients give each other therapy, and there's a reason for it. But he still likes to make sure that I'm hanging in all right. He's very untrusting."

Clark had a sudden flash of memory back to opening his eyes to Batman's mask and that voice demanding to know *why* he had saved his life? As if there had to be an ulterior motive or else the world just couldn't make sense. His response of not needing a reason had baffled the other man completely. "I understood he was deeply affected by the murder of his parents."

Lex shifted his shoulders, eyes soaking in Clark's expression. "I'd say he was more than 'affected' by their murder." Just like he'd been more than affected by what had happened to him with Dominic. It wasn't a blip in his life, it was a knife wound that went deeper than the surface, that had scarred up because it was the sort of thing that never could heal properly. Particularly when people kept picking at it.

"Understatement, yeah?" Clark murmured. "But he does care, obviously. And you decided not to be whisked away by him?"

"It's warm here." Lex sighed, shifting to sit up a little. "I like that. I like that in my apartment and I like that about your home here. It feels... warm. I think." He stopped short of making himself sound *too* stupid in front of Clark. At least, stopped himself for just a moment, because he did have to go on. Even if it was said while he looked at the ceiling. "I think I need that right now. Bruce is... a wreck. He's a good friend, but we, we exacerbate each other."

"Sometimes having someone who shares experiences is a good thing, and sometimes you need someone who doesn't know to give you perspective I guess." Clark twisted and leaned up on his elbow.

"Depends on the person. I... like being here better than there. You're nice. And your family is good." It seemed stupid for him to keep reiterating the goodness factor, but that was important to him.

"Well, I think so, too," Clark said smiling at him and then faltered a moment. "Even though I've done something I don't feel comfortable about, Lex. I've taken a mirror of your hard drive in case it gets taken for evidence or something. I feel kind of weird about that. I should have asked."

That was unexpected. "Oh. There wasn't much on it. Games. And stuff." He lowered his head a little, back down to the pillow, but he kept facing Clark. "You guys don't trust me, do you?"

"I trust you," Clark said simply and sighed. "Logically, it made sense. Taking the mirror without your knowledge is the only way to preserve the integrity of the data, because I have a horrible feeling that evidence is getting tampered with. I'm sorry, Lex. I shouldn't have let myself get convinced it was a good idea. I didn't mean to imply that I didn't trust you."

"I have a copy of my medical record at home. It won't have been tampered with. I... haven't been to a doctor in years, so even if they get to Met General..." Logical. It still made him feel cold and more than a little tired. It seemed like they didn't trust him. All of this behind the back stuff.

"I've pissed you off, haven't I?" Clark grimaced a little, seeing the subtle hints in the way Lex was reacting.

"Not really. I..." Lex closed his eyes, sighed. "I don't know what to think anymore. I'm not meant for this up-down shit." A faint laugh left him. "I like it when things are mundane."

"It would be nice to have a normal life," Clark agreed. "I'm not sure if I can call here mundane, but my family seems to have unofficially adopted you. Lara was *not* happy with Lois about how she had treated 'Mr. Lex'."

Lex's mouth twitched a little, and he kept his eyes closed. "Yeah, great. Apparently, I'm just here looking for someone to molest, so maybe that's not a good idea."

"I think we disabused Lois of that notion. Finally. And Perry accepted my article. Articles -- and Winters passed them as well," Clark explained. "There's a hell of a turn around going on. Perry relishes the chance to buck the trend so... Tomorrow should have a different look to it."

"They're not going to let go of it." He opened his eyes slowly, peering carefully at Clark. It was sort of strange to be watching someone watching him like that.

"They'll change their minds," Clark replied firmly. "The truth has a powerful effect. More powerful than lies in the end."

Lex half smiled, then closed his eyes again, and shifted to pull the blankets higher over his shoulders. "I hope you're right."

"I am," Clark said and leaned back smiling. There was silence a moment. "Um, Lex.... you're really uh, DarkHanded?"

That startled Lex just faintly. They'd not only copied his computer, but they'd read the data? "You read that?"

"I recognized the title and... Well I did read it, but not from there. From the archive." Clark cleared his throat a little nervously. "When it was first put up there."

"You're joking me?" Lex asked, cracking open one eye.

"I think I've even sent you feedback," Clark had a very sheepish grin. "KryptoAngel. Um. Yeah."

It was a strange, small world, wasn't it? Clark's father had saved his life, and Clark was coddling him now, and... "Yeah. I remember. This is... this just keeps getting weirder." He laughed, because it was the easier thing to do.

"It's like we've been pushed to get to know each other," Clark mused, and grinned. "You ever doing a sequel to 'Morning Star Falling'?"

"Maybe." He laughed again, the small chuckles popping up almost uncontrollably. "God, this is crazy."

"What, that I turn out to be a fan?" Clark asked delighted to hear the laugh. "Can I have your autograph?"

"I don't sign autographs," Lex tried to grump, still laughing.

"Damn. You're a Big Name. You wrote the 'Mirrors of the Past, Reflections of the Future' arc!" Clark said in suitably awed tones. "Warrior Angel Fans check your section of the archive religiously."

"Now you're just flattering me. It's just a free-time thing." Stories that wouldn't ever show up in the comics that he loved, but. A man was allowed his escapist fun.

"Well, *I* check it religiously," Clark replied. "You don't necessarily have to tell Lara that, though. I've never written any myself. I'd like to sometime. Maybe. I don't know if I could."

"You're a journalist," Lex pointed out quietly. Clark was trained to write, and Lex was just... a scientist. "I'm just a guy whose mind wanders while I wait for Codis results to come back."

"Journalism is a different type of writing. Your writing is like... poetry," Clark replied seriously.

"Huh." He wasn't sure what to do with a compliment like that, how to respond honestly to it, or hell, how to respond at all except by shooting it down. "Thanks."

"It's the truth," Clark murmured lapsing into silence. "I should let you rest."

"Yeah. I... I'm pretty tired." He could feign sleep, lay there and listen to Clark's breathing. He was alone, safe and wrapped up in blankets, untouched and left alone, but he could feel some else there. A non-threat. It was nice, and novel.

"If you want anything, just say okay?" Clark cleared his throat. "Aside from going to the bathroom. I probably don't need to hear about that."

"I promise to not randomly ask for glasses of water," Lex grinned just a little, hitching himself deeper into the blankets, curling up cocoon-like. "Night."

"Night, Lex. Sleep well." Clark didn't wish him pleasant dreams, as he thought that might be asking a little bit much, but he did feel reasonably confident that Lex was not completely falling apart. Not like before.

Lex prided himself in stapling himself together again. Given a little calm, a little comfort, a little distance from whatever had hurt him, and he managed. Sleep would help, even if Lex wasn't immediately sleeping.

He laid there, listening to Clark's breathing.

Perhaps the most astonishing thing about the rest of Lex's stay at the Kent farm was the fact that nothing happened once Lois left. Clark singularly failed to do anything more than fall out of the guest bed while sharing the room with Lex. Lex was made to eat and drink and then to provide entertainment for Lara. Clark rarely left him on his own, but he had no problems about sharing a comfortable silence. Clark had, in a fit of guilt, given Lex his laptop to poke around on so he could see all of the data he had been collecting, as well as his own personal things. All in all, though, the rest of the holiday was relatively leisurely, and when they finally left Smallville and returned to Metropolis -- another marathon Warrior Angel discussion later -- the city seemed like another world.

Clark had been a little nervous about leaving him at his place, but since it was only going to be a few hours before they would meet again at work, he finally agreed to let Lex face that trip alone.

It was about as hard as he imagined.

Lex was a creature of habit, but there was suddenly something ill fitting about his habit. It sucked at him with dread, because he didn't know what would be waiting for him when he showed up at ten p.m. A quick shower at his apartment, a change of clothes... Lex kept the TV set on as the usual soothing background noise, brushing his teeth, making a quick pre-work meal for himself. He usually liked his solitude, but after four bustling days, the quiet ached at him.

That was what he'd been missing for so long.

Even as he ate, and got ready for work he kept finding himself turning to make some comment to Clark only to find him not there. It was strange how accustomed he had become to the other man's presence when over all the years no one had even come close to making him feel that solitude was anything but the best option.

He felt as if there was something warm and bright missing. It surprised him how much attention and support Clark must have been lavishing on him so smoothly. It wasn't until it was absent that the chill of his normal life touched him. Though he found himself dreading work, he found at the same time a thread of anticipation at seeing the other man again.

It was really a shame that Clark wasn't a CSI. Then Lex could see him every day, and... well. It probably wouldn't work out. It wasn't like Clark would be covering the department for much longer, and then their schedules would be entirely different, and he'd never hear from him again.

That didn't stop him thinking about him almost obsessively as he made the journey to work on autopilot, using it as a way to fend off his fears. For every panicked thought, he used a memory as a protective talisman. Even if he lost the real thing, he could hold the memories of those few bright days as something to be treasured. He'd made it through the last nine years on less.

A lot less. When the recovery side of a car crash and a drowning was a bright memory, things were pretty bleak. In the long run, it was the little things that made life bearable for him. A good cup of coffee. A good conversation with someone. Things that silly and simple. A smile.

Not finding his parking space blocked by a black limo.

Fucking hell. How did his father manage to do this to him? Every time. Even as he was forced to park elsewhere, he could see his father get out and walk towards him.

Lex got out himself and walked tensely, but concentrated on staying calm as he hunched his shoulders a little in his coat. Work was just a hundred feet from him. He'd be fine, and the parking lot was well lit.

"Lex. Son, as you failed to return any one of my calls, I was forced to wait here for you," Lionel said as he swept up beside him. "I see that my misgivings about Kent were sadly justified. I extend my invitation again. Come back and all the resources of LuthorCorp and our family are at your disposal."

His father was still the same piece of work that Lex had begun to shun twelve years ago. It made Lex's heart sink all the same, and made his back go tight on him. "I'm afraid that I have to decline. I actually had a good Thanksgiving."

"Being served up as the turkey for the entirety of Metropolis?" Lionel caught hold of his shoulder. "Lex, don't be foolish!"

His father had never, never *touched* him like Dominic had, but he still had a way of doing it that made Lex's skin crawl, that made him feel sick. "That's a departmental matter."

"I'm sure it is. Lex if you turn your back on my offer of help, I won't be held responsible for the consequences," Lionel said in a low urgent voice in his left ear.

"You're threatening me," Lex countered as he took a half a step backwards, twisting away from Lionel. "Do you think that I'm stupid, Dad?"

"Strangely enough, all evidence to the contrary, I don't." Lionel was starting at him. "And yet you still keep going against me. One last chance, Lex. Take it. You are my son, I love you. Come back."

"That's my incentive to do that?" Lex took another back step, twisting so that he moved every so slightly close towards the main doors. "What do I have to look forwards to? Working with people I can't stand? Who've hurt me? Who make me *sick* to look at?"

"Things can be different Lex, I promise you," Lionel was practically wheedling with a desperation that was palpable even through his facade of control. "Walk away now. Come with me now and we can put the past behind us. I don't want to draw battle lines between us, son."

"At least battle lines would imply some sort of fairness," Lex snarled, taking a larger step backwards. "I never got that chance. I kept my silence, but my hand's been forced. I'm not going to run to LuthorCorp when I've got a good job here."

"And how long are you going to have that job? Hmm?" Lionel snapped back, his voice brittle. "Discredited, all your dirty little secrets out to air and your credibility ...hah... yesterday's news?"

Lionel had a point. He was a lab tech, and a lab tech who commits crimes... But he was innocent. And he wasn't going to let his father get in his head and ruin it. "My dirty little secrets. Is it a dirty little secret that I survived, Dad? That girl Dominic hurt didn't survive."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lex," Lionel said woodenly, and there, perhaps, was his mistake. Perhaps if he had take some sort of responsibility, any sort for what had happened to Lex, then his ploy to reel him back into the Luthor fold might have worked. "I'm deeply sorry about what happened to that little girl but that has nothing to do with *us*."

"It has a *lot* to do with *us*. I remember, Dad. I remember how many times you'd send me to Dominic's house with instructions to 'be good and do what he says'. How many times you passed me off, and how many times I came back and you *had* to know what was going on. Not many fucking ten year olds get tested for STDs!" Maybe his voice was a *little* loud for the parking lot, but Lex was past the point of caring. He knew that when he stepped into those doors, it was just going to get worse. Why not start it out in the parking lot?

"You needed medicals because of your precarious state of health after the meteor accident. You are deluded Lex, this is exactly what I was worried about. You've twisted it in your own head. I don't doubt that you believe it, son, though... it pains me to hear that, but surely you can't believe that your own father would knowingly put you in that situation! Really, Lex." Lionel blended his voice into a blend of reproach and smooth pity.

Lex worked his jaw for a moment. "It doesn't matter what I think. The evidence speaks for itself. Goodbye, Dad. Have a nice night."

"Lex!" His shoulder was grabbed again, hard. "Walk in there now and there are no more chances, do you understand? *No* more chances." The words were said with peculiar emphasis.

It made Lex cock his head slightly, staring at his father. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, for all our differences, you're my son. You're a Luthor," Lionel said urgently. "And you should understand what I mean."

It was itching at the back of his mind, like a warning. Lionel had set something into motion that he was regretting, it was all that Lex could think was going on. "Dad, what have you done now?"

"I've done nothing." Lionel said, straightening up. "I make this offer out of my concern for you Lex. Let me help you."

"You keep saying that you'll help me, but you don't say how."

"With all my resources," Lionel coaxed. "I can make the problems go away. I can give you back a true life, not this masquerade you call a life. You can do things that are really meaningful, wield power as a Luthor can... tell me that you haven't wanted more Lex, tell me that this... existence isn't a sham!?"

Lex gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. "I can't say that. I'd be lying. This isn't a masquerade, Father. This is what I've chosen, and what I'm happy to do."

"Then I trust you'll be happy with what you've chosen for yourself." It was obvious that Lionel wasn't, even as he turned to go. "Goodbye, Lex."

"Night." He shifted his shoulders again, then turned his back to his father and started to talk. It was hard to not wonder if someone was going to shoot him down between the shoulders as he walked, at some silent signal from his father.

Miraculously nobody did, though the paranoid sensation stayed with him as he entered the place that had been his home away from home. He felt unsettled and nervous as he made his way through to the CSI unit, wondering if Clark were already there, or if he was going to be going in there cold.

Cold, probably. Sure, there'd been an outpouring of support in letters, but people reacted to things like those pictures. People reacted to them, disgust or arousal. Lex had been the one to feel disgust, but he could still remember sitting on Dominic's lap, impaled on him, forced to look and feeling Dominic get harder and squirm while he flipped through them.

He... really needed to not think about that. Lex swallowed, looking for any familiar faces as he made his way to the lab. He probably needed to find Winters first.

"Hey, Lex!" Kieran was just coming in as well, although about to head off towards his morgue. "How are you? I didn't hear about everything until after."

"I took some time off, went to a friend's for Thanksgiving. I'm doing okay," he assured with a smile. It would've been easier if he didn't know that some of the office had seen him when he'd been little, hurt beyond words and so vulnerable.

"I'm glad to hear you weren't alone," Kieran nodded. "I saw the papers. That was a hell of a 180 the Daily Planet pulled. Reporters are not the department's favorite people right now. A few pitchforks and flaming torches and they'd be ready to storm the paper."

"It was Lois Lane," Lex shrugged tightly. "It's being retracted, last I knew." He just didn't want to think or talk about it -- after all, the charity was *his* life. It was a functioning manifestation of what he wanted to do, and Lois Lane had tried to kill it.

"Oh yeah, we saw that one, but even so..." Kieran said. "Look, I've got to go, I've got two exhumations to process, but maybe we can talk some more on break?"

"Sure." No chance in hell. Kieran was a really nice guy, but Lex was sure that everyone had a word or two on the subject to share with him, and by the time that a break came, he'd probably be wound up tighter than an OCD patient's cuckoo clock. "See you."

The coroner raised a hand to him and went on his way even as a familiar blonde figure hastened up the corridor. "Lex!" Chloe was unmistakable especially with that grin. "Great! You made it in. We weren't sure if you were going to what with everything."

He smiled at Chloe, too. At this rate, he wasn't going to find Winters, he was going to duck into his office and hide. And run samples. "I had a good Thanksgiving, so I figured I should come back. Breaks aren't half as fun if I don't work."

"You had a good time with the Kents?" Chloe asked. "I saw Clark come in a while back."

"Yeah. They're nice people." Lex's smile lit up a little more as he kept walking, veering just a little to head to the DNA lab. *His* lab. That place was his, and he wasn't going to let his father threaten him out of it. "I had a really relaxing time." Except for that bit with throwing up and Lois. "So Clark's here?"

"Yeah. Somewhere. Actually, I've lost Adam as well. You seen him?" Chloe asked starting to look a little worried. "Uh. Trouble alert. Adam was *really* pissed at Clark about that first article the Planet ran about you. I'm thinking tracking him down would be a good thing."

Nothing was ever mundane. Lex veered from his destination. "Okay. If you were Adam, where would you corner a Kent?"

"Somewhere where Winters wouldn't happen along. Down near the break room somewhere. I don't think any of the others would say anything either," Chloe replied. "Even I was contemplating giving him a thump upside the head." She started moving, not waiting to see if Lex was following.

But he did follow. "Why? I thought he was an old friend of yours? It's not his fault that Lane did that."

"His main job is to keep a leash on my cousin and he knows it. I know it." Chloe scowled a little. "He knows better, that's the point. He knows what Lois is like, and so do I, and you can't leave her alone for a second."

"But he was in Smallville when she did it," Lex excused. "Look, I'm not going to make excuses for your cousin, because I can't. But Clark's made it a point to make sure the honest story gets out."

"Yeah, well that's why I didn't thump him," Chloe said shrugging. "Because I've never known him to deliberately do any harm." She gave a wry smile as they hurried down towards the break room to see a lot of people very busily hiding in their offices. "Ed? You seen Adam?"

"Adam? He's got the reporter in one of the survey rooms." Ed glanced at Lex, and smiled. "Hey, good to see you back!"

"It's good to be back," he agreed.

"Survey room, right." Chloe nodded. "Can I borrow you Ed? Adam is a little ticked at Kent and... well, I'd rather not see anything happen."

"Can't blame him for being ticked," Ed muttered.

Lex decided to ignore them all, and headed for the survey room himself. "Clark?!"

The fact that Adam had the reporter pushed up against the back wall with a grip knotted in his cheap shirt was not a good sign. Neither was the fact that Clark was either too intimidated or for some reason wasn't defending himself to Adam's rather vitriolic accusations.

"...fucking scum, using him like that! Using your friend to get a fucking story and then manipulating Lex..."

"Adam, put him down." Lex had a tone he used at work -- firm, hard, with a touch of seniority; he'd been there a while, and there were just some things that people learned not to tell him how to do.

Adam glanced over his shoulder not letting go, but relaxing imperceptibly. "He can't be allowed to get away with what he did to you."

Chloe stepped forward. "Adam, I told you that wasn't Clark. It was Lois. The retraction article was Clark."

"Same difference, isn't that what you told me? Playing both sides of the story. It was planned. Fucking Good Cop Bad Cop maneuvers!"

Maybe he was right.

Maybe that had been the plan all along. Except... it didn't seem right, didn't seem to strike a really paranoid chord with Lex the way that it should've. "No, Clark really is a good guy, Adam. So let go of his shirt." Lex stepped in, moved past Chloe, and put a hand on Adam's wrist. "Winters will have a fit if he catches this."

Adam turned to look at him, and it was obvious that Clark was a convenient target for a source of stress that had been building in him. Lex had seen that happen a fair few times over the years to virtually everyone. His balance and frustration were teetering and needed to lash out. A perceived 'attack' on one of their own was like tossing a lighted match into a dynamite store. "I don't care," Adam snarled. "He used you. He came in here pretending to play nice and even I fell for it -- and then all of this!"

"Adam, be reasonable. If Lex says--"

"And Lex does say. He isn't pretending to play nice, he does play nice. Someone hacked the Children's foundation database, then tipped off Lane. She saw the hacked version of events, and ran with the story. Clark had a mirror of it before the hacking."

That made Adam drop his hand from the crumpled material of Clark's shirt who didn't say anything just straightened himself up. "He was the source of the refuting evidence?" Adam frowned a little, looking back at Clark.

Chloe looked delighted. "Way to go Clark! Guess I taught you something about computers after all huh?"

Clark just nodded. "Maybe a little."

Lex let go of Adam's wrist, pulling back a little. "I'm glad that we've got this settled."

Adam gave them both a long look. Evidently the revelation didn't extend to an apology as he gave a nod and then walked out of the room.

Chloe sighed. "Translation. 'Oops, sorry about that. I was wrong. I apologize and I won't be a jerk any more.' You okay, Clark?"

Clark nodded again, and that nodding wasn't too heartening for Lex. "Not the first time someone's got a little irritated with me."

Chloe grinned. "Yeah, it was usually me. I'll pass the word around so no one spits in your coffee or anything. Better go and catch up to Adam. He's a little stressed. We can't find the last bit of evidence we need to nail the people running the ring, and you know what he's like."

"Yeah." Lex smiled at her, and then added, "If anyone's looking for me, I'll be in the lab." Just, not yet. He wanted to talk to Clark, even if it was going to be awkward as hell. What did you say to a really nice guy after your coworkers decide to rough him up?

"Got it." Chloe smiled brightly. "See you both later."

Clark watched her leave and then smiled a little sheepishly at Lex. "And you were the one worried about coming back in."

"I know." Lex looked over his shoulder, craning his head a little. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think they'd take it out on you."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it," Clark replied smiling slightly. "I've been working with Lois for a few years. Adam was pretty polite, all things considered. You okay? No problems?"

"Ran into my father in the parking lot, and got the usual less than cordial demand to rejoin the Luthor family." Lex shrugged his shoulders as he took a backwards step. It was funny that now he was sure Clark was okay, the rest of reality came rushing back at him. It had been a good few moments of distraction at least.

"He's really pushing at it, isn't he?" Clark said falling easily into step with him as they headed towards Lex's Lab.

"He's been pushing at it for years." Lex slipped his hands into his coat pockets; once he was there, he'd need to trade his coat for a lab coat. And then things could get down to normality. Or as close as he could get to that vague dream of a goal. "It was just the usual mind-games. I'm used to it. So... what're you going to be doing today?"

"Well, I thought, if you don't mind if I come in with you to start with -- at least until word gets around that I'm not the devil incarnate, and then I'd go check out where they are with the case." Clark smiled. "I've got some stuff to finish up. Perry is giving me a column on the strength of my 'Superman can't fix everything' article.

Superman can't fix everything? Lex paused for a moment once he was in the lab, changing his coat for a lab coat and getting his pills and a sealed water bottle out of the desk drawer. "Haven't read that. What was it?"

"Basically it was a piece warning of the complacency of people assuming that things can be fixed for them without having to put in effort themselves. People think that Superman, for example, can fix everything, save everyone and yet, when it comes to things like this, even if he wanted to,he couldn't just turn up in his spandex and save the day. It needs people like you, like the CSI team. Ordinary people doing extraordinary jobs to make justice happen." Clark smiled. "It's a little more longwinded than that."

Concentrate on the little things. Lex could feel the cap of his pills giving way with the pressure of his twist, could hear Clark's slow, metronome-like breaths. The lab was a little cold, and he needed to get more Latex gloves from supply, but he had enough to get him through the shift. "But... we do appreciate the work he does. I'm sure the guy gets enough flak without adding to it, Clark. There's no need to elevate the department at the cost of cutting down someone who... really does things that even the best cop isn't capable of."

"Don't get me wrong, Lex, I think what he does is good, but people are more than willing to start to rely on that sort of thing. We don't know that much about him," Clark replied.

"We know he flies, and he's strong. The mere fact that he's *helping* the police capture people says a lot about him. How many people would do something like that if they had those abilities?" He paused for a moment, and tossed back two pills before he cracked the bottle of water to take a sip.

Clark looked amused. "You like Superman," he said with a slight smile.

"He's a hell of a lot better person than the guys whose epithelials are waiting for me to test," Lex muttered around the rim of the water bottle. "A real superhero. Anyone who's read comics knows that they can't deal with the smaller, quieter crimes."

"And that's my point, Lex," Clark said enthusiastically as they entered his lab proper. "We might know that, but there a lot of people out there who don't read the comics and who haven't had the luxury of seeing the writer's toy and twist and turn with all the ethics and capabilities of a superhero with powers. They just see someone who can do what seems to be everything, and from there it's a very short mental hop to expecting that."

"Ah." Lex shrugged his shoulders. "It's probably a basic human thing. Everyone wants to be saved by a knight in shining armor, right?" He added a wink as he put the water down. "Have to get to work now. What edition was it in?"

"This morning's. You carry on, I won't interrupt you," Clark replied put his laptop down on a spare area of desk.

"Thanks. I'll look for the article when we get off shift. I'm sure you did a great job writing it." It was hard not to smile at Clark, maybe a little flirtatiously, before he headed over to the actual tables where chemicals were handled, snapping his gloves onto his fingers

It wasn't his usual style to flirt subtly. He'd never really had occasion to do that; his teenage over-reaction to abuse had swung through the confused extremes of throwing himself at everything that moved and then back to a lifestyle of celibacy a monk would envy. The normal dynamics of expressing an interest had never really come up.

Clark had told him pretty much that he liked him, but did he *really* like him or...?

It was easy to use those thoughts as a bridging gap to the safety of his work.

Clark had settled down and was busily typing away even as he considered what he should do first. His 'In' tray was stuffed full after the holidays.

And his 'In' tray wasn't even *with* him. Lex had something that looked like an 'In' tray, on that far desk -- a stack of small boxes, envelopes, plastic covered swabs in bags. All of them to be tackled in pretty much the order of Lex's choosing.

Well, going through prioritizing was probably the most sensible thing to do, so Lex rifled through some of the packages, doing a rough sort. Some evident junk mail was trashed out of hand, internal memos put in a neat heap and then he took a look at the important pile. The evidence collection. Most of them had a note attached to the outside of a container explained what there were and who they were from but every now and then someone would forget. One of his nondescript parcels turned out to be some bone fragments retrieved from a coyote -- suspected human bone. Another was a rather unpleasant bit of decayed flesh in a vacuum seal box for identification. There was another box inside a Jiffy envelope that appeared to have come in the internal mail but had no obvious means of identification.

Probably something leftover from another shift, or sent to the lab by the coroner that was on duty before Kieran. Sometimes people got a little sloppy at the end of their shift. Still it was incentive for him to process the parcels first, particularly if one of them was decayed flesh. And bone. Bone marrow was hell to get DNA material out of, particularly if it was a dried up, chewed on bone. So package number three seemed like a good starter. Lex wandered over to the radio, turned it on, then approached the box with a box cutter.

Lost in the concentration he usually experienced when contemplating work matters, Lex cut in to the package, grimacing a little as he met some resistance and had to apply force to cut it through. He was aware only then of a snick and a crackling ozone snap as if something electrical had discharged and things went all to hell.

Across the other side of the room Clark's attention was caught by the strange sound which he recognized immediately as some sort of trigger mechanism. He had stopped too many in his time not to be aware of what they sounded like. Immediately he was in his speed zone, looking around, seeing the flare of explosion already beginning in those moments between time, lapping around Lex's hand.
He was too late to take the bomb away; it was already releasing its energy. The only thing he could do was save Lex.

It didn't even occur to him that there was anything else he could do.

Moving in those moments of fast time, he could still see the explosion billowing in what would have appeared to be an instantaneous explosion. A burst of speed and he was there. A twist and push and he was trying to hurl the bomb away from them both, and then he threw himself over Lex as the explosion's force filled the room before he could risk speeding out of there. He carried them both to the floor, hitting hard with Lex underneath him and grabbing at one of the tables to bring it down on top of them, him, to afford them some protection.

What he hadn't counted on was the fact that the bomb's explosion, deadly in itself, triggered a sequence of subsidiary explosions that thumped at the pair of them and hurled high velocity debris onto them both.

All in all, this day wasn't going so well.

He could hear, in slow motion sound, the glass windows blowing out, and people screaming. Then there were shouts, panic and flames before the sprinkler system kicked in. Beneath him, beneath the desk, he could hear Lex breathing, gasping for air and making the occasional choke noise. Then someone called to them.

"Jesus Christ! Lex!" Ash's voice sounded distraught. "Where the fuck is the fire extinguisher?"

"Get out of the way! Ed, take that side," Adam yelled, even as people started coughing and the fire alarms began ringing. Clark could hear the roar of extinguishers and contemplated briefly whether he should push his way clear. He considered the table and assorted furniture that were technically pinning him and decided he pretty much had to stay were he was, trying to keep most of the weight off of Lex.

It was stay where he was, or give a show of strength that he wasn't willing to share. It wasn't much of a choice for him to make, even if Lex was pinned beneath him, struggling a little and clutching at his hand.

"Dammit, get out of the way -- the firefighters are coming in!" That sounded like Winters, but Clark couldn't have been sure -- it could've been any one of the older officers in the main precinct.

"Oh my God, oh my God... Clark was in here too, oh my God..." Chloe sounded more rattled than any time he had heard before. "You think...?"

Damn, he was probably going to have to make his nose bleed or something, just before they got out. A few minor burns if he could. Not bad enough to get him sent to a hospital but enough so he didn't look ridiculously unscathed. He shifted slightly with a slight exhalation and gripped back at Lex's hand. It had probably been a little too long a delay for comfort for the other man.

"Owww, *fuck*! You bastard!" Lex kicked, trying to pull his hand back sharply, and trailed off into somewhat delirious, panicked coughing. That was his right hand, the one he'd been holding the box steady with, the one that felt like it was on fire and left sticky melted latex on Clark's palm.

It was just as well that Clark was technically invulnerable in his vulnerable parts as that reflexive kick was right in his groin and he had to try and fold into it in a form of stage fighting acting so Lex didn't crack a bone. To all intent and purposes he reacted much the same as any man who had been kneed in the crotch minus the scream of pain. He did let go of Lex's hand immediately, and his movement caused something to slither off of the pile that was covering them.

"Over there!"

There were more things said closer to them, but they were muffled by smoke-protective masks. More pieces of the pile were shifted, until Clark could crane his head and see the firemen. "Hey, hold on. We'll have you out in a second."

Clark sighed and closed his eyes a moment. He'd hurt Lex. He was meant to be protecting him, and he hadn't done a particularly good job so far. He should have _remembered_ that Lex's hand had been burnt. He knew that, he'd seen it happen. Jesus Christ, what had he been thinking? He waited until they were close to pulling them out and then shifted an arm, seemingly to protect Lex and gave himself some mild burns on his arms and scratched at the inside of his nose to make it bleed. It wouldn't last long, but it might last long enough to give the impression he needed.

He coughed convincingly enough as the smoke wafted down to them both and made as if to try and move.

Lex laid beneath Clark, dazed with pain and fits of coughing. He moved his left hand, hardly burnt at all, and clutched at Clark's side as the desk was pushed to one side to get them out. "Here, you first. Get a stretcher in here!" The fireman was bending in to pull Clark out, hands going under Clark's shoulders.

"'m okay," Clark managed. "I'm fine." He started to push himself clear getting a look at Lex as he did so. He looked bruised, some minor cuts and that burn to the hand. Clark winced, more in sympathy for Lex than in any play acting.

He wasn't sure if he could've managed play-acting just then. Even as he was helped to his feet, another firefighter tried to haul Lex up and to the safety of a stretcher. "Okay, sir, lay down here and we'll get you out of here..."

"Careful with him..." Clark coughed again, slipping on some debris deliberately. "Shit..."

Lex's sharp blue eyes looked panicked beneath the dilated glaze that was cast over them. He let the fireman help him up onto the stretcher that was just wheeled in, groaning as he was strapped down so they could get on the move again. The man who'd helped Clark up started forwards, offering Clark support. "We're all heading outside. Going to get a paramedic to look at you."

"I'm fine," Clark insisted. "Nothing broken or anything." He dabbed at his trickling nose, smearing the blood a little like face paints. He should come off as lucky with injuries that didn't need the hospital. "How's Lex?"

"Clark?" He could tell that was Chloe's voice even as he slipped again on the sprinkler damped aftermath. "Clark!"

"Is Lex the guy you were covering?" the Fireman who was still doggedly sticking to him asked. "Ma'am, please leave. We want to make sure the premises are safe. C'mon."

"Yeah. Is... Is he okay?" He glanced around and X-rayed Lex hastily, finding him to have no broken bones, but he must have cracked his head when Clark had taken them both down to the floor. Clark could clearly see the swelling that came with a concussion under the smooth sculpted bones of his skull. He didn't get an immediate answer.

He was finally escorted outside and then made a show of moving carefully as if he was bruised, even as he was told to sit down by the paramedic and was examined. Someone had tried to kill Lex. And had nearly succeeded. If Clark hadn't been in the same room he might have missed it. The thought shocked him enough to give him the genuine glassy expression and distraction of someone who had been through a trauma. Somehow the thought of what might have happened was particularly horrifying. He found himself repeating his question about Lex until someone gave him some sort of an answer.

"Don't know. Your friend's going to the hospital."

Clark saw Winters moving over towards Lex's stretcher and stopping the EMTs from loading him up just yet. "Hey! Adam! I want you to go to Met General with Lex."

"Yes sir." The dark haired investigator moved immediately into place as an impromptu bodyguard and Clark fought a random spike of jealousy. That was his job, he should be going, too...

He was halfway to his feet before he was pushed to sit down again. "I want to see how he is!"

"No, Kent." Winters shot Clark a doubtful look, and moved to talk to Chrissie, who was nursing a cut on her face.

"Clark, just sit still," Chloe urged.

He looked up at her, seeing the smear of soot there and belatedly realized there were other people to be concerned about. "Did... did anyone else get hurt?" He should have thought about that.

She held up her arm, with a short but bloody gash on it, and grinned, "I've been in worse explosions. The paramedics will be around in a minute. You okay? It looks like you pulled a Smallville and saved Lex, Clark."

"I... don't remember exactly," Clark said evasively. "That looks deep."

"It's going to need stitches," Chloe said agreeably as she sat down beside him. "So, are you okay?" The ambulance that held Lex was pulling away, and Clark had watched Adam get into it. It should've been *him* there. He just... sensed that it should've been. That maybe Lex would've liked that better.

"I need to see how Lex is," he repeated again. He frowned a little as if trying to remember why he was sitting at the CSI lab and Lex wasn't there. "It was a bomb. In a package. I remember hearing something."

"And somehow he ended up under you?" Chloe shifted, patting Clark like he was a favorite dog or maybe a brother.

"I was next to him... I just threw myself at him." Clark frowned. "Was he okay? Did you see?" God, even to himself he sounded obsessed. "They tried to kill him. They tried to make him responsible and kill him so there would be no more case!"

"You think?" Chloe was looking at him with a serious expression, wanting to pick that detail or two from his brain. "Do you, Clark? We'll probably need you to describe the package..."

"None of that right now," Winters told them both firmly. "Just wait for the paramedics to get to you."

Clark looked up at the head of the department. "I'll write this up. They can't seriously think that Lex is guilty of anything if someone has tried to kill him."

Winter stopped to stoop down in front of them both, but mostly Clark. "Kent. I think you need to rest for a minute."

"I... I need to be doing something," Clark replied looking directly at Winters. "I'm not hurt badly, I'm okay. I'm just a little shaky, that's all."

Surprisingly, it was true. He was shaky. He only really got shaky over rescues he had done for his family and close friends when he got to thinking what might have happened if he hadn't been there. He did rescues practically every day and didn't react like this to strangers. And Lex? He hadn't even known Lex a week and yet he was having a reaction as strong as if he was one of the most important people in his life. That was a new development.

"All right. But your notes are no doubt beyond recovery," Winters reminded him gently. It made Clark think about all of the evidence that had been lost in the explosion. How many cases, how many samples had been on Lex's desk?

Dammit! Not just this case but all of the others that might be affected as well. "I'll rewrite. I have a good memory." The paramedic moved in closed to start looking at him. Clark ignored him "I'll go see how Lex is."

Winters gave Chloe a look, and she seemed to be returning it while Clark dodged and ducked the paramedic. While sitting. "Kent, can I have a word with you over here?" He gestured with his head, off to the side.

"Uh, yeah." He got up much to the annoyance of the medic, who promptly moved on to Chloe, and went over to see what Winters wanted. "What is it?"

"I don't know what's going on with you and Lex right now," Winters started, "and I don't actually want to know. But maybe the last thing he needs right now is a reporter obsessing over him. Now I appreciate the help you've leant, but..."

"What?" Clark turned and looked at him. "I'm not obsessing!" He paused and said plaintively "Am I?"

Winters' eyebrows were up a little. "If you have to ask..."

Clark rubbed his head as if it was paining him a little. "Maybe... Maybe I'll go home for a bit," he said eventually. "You're right. I... I don't know what I'm thinking right now."

"You need to keep a clear head." Winters flashed Clark a smile. "I've worked with Lex for a long time -- a decade this spring. You keep... doing whatever you're doing the way you're doing it now, and he's going to slam a door in your face. And that door's never going to unlock." Winters cleared his throat. "Now, you should think about going home and resting, Kent. I don't think you're meant for shift-work."

Clark just swallowed a moment and then nodded. He knew a dismissal when he heard one and in a strange way it hurt him where the explosions and collapsing lab did not. He didn't have anything to say to that, and just walked away, rather randomly leaving the chaos behind him. Winters would know what he was talking about, wouldn't he? It didn't matter that he'd just been in an explosion, that he had technically saved Lex's life, he was being warned off and common sense told him he should follow that voice of experience.

But his own feelings didn't agree at all.

What would he do? Go home? Go to the hospital...?

Maybe... Winters had honestly meant that critique of his technique. He was being too... him. Or something. Maybe Lex needed something different, but Clark didn't know. The only thing that was really obvious was the fact that he was still obsessing, even as he walked away.

Aching had never felt so much like a strobe light before. Every so many parts of a second, pain throbbed and thudded. It took Lex a moment to realize that it was just his pulse in his head, and his pulse in his hand providing a sharp, uncomfortable echo.

It took a moment, too, for him to realize that he was in a hospital. He knew what the places felt like pretty well, down to the tiny details of the IV in the back of his left hand, the faintly scratchy sheets. The decor of Met General had changed only a little since he'd last been there, which made Lex want to laugh.

That urge faded when he realized that he was alone in his room. A painful twist of the head showed there was no one there, which was par for the course he guessed. He'd spent most of his hospital visits alone, one way or another.

Lex shifted a little, curling up on his side as best as he could. It was better that way; no uncomfortable pity, no one trying to talk to him... he was *used* to it, and he could find solace in that. Often, being alone was better than having someone there. It was easier to be alone, because he didn't have to think of how to act best, how to... cope. He could just lay there and do it.

But he still wished that there was someone there.

Unbidden thoughts of what had happened flicker through his mind. They didn't match up. How could Clark have gotten to him in time? He had been over the other side of the room. How was it he had been able to get up if the bomb had been exploding? Wouldn't that have meant burns all over his body?

Lex was part of a CSI team and the thoughts were distracting. There was something evidently wrong.

The worst part was that there were things he couldn't remember. He remembered his hand feeling like it was on fire, jerking back from the package, and then nothing. Nothing until it was just him and Clark, and a smoky burning feeling in his throat. He could still feel that, so he couldn't have been hallucinating it. Then Clark had squeezed his hand, and things had turned to haze again.

Lex was pretty sure that he'd kneed Clark in the balls. Which, if Clark was still okay, was a good reason for Clark not to visit him. But it had been a reaction from the pain, from being pinned. It was forgivable for him to panic at the feeling of a heavier body crushing down against his own.

There was a slight click of the door and the sound of footsteps approaching him carefully. Probably a nurse or something. Maybe another damn doctor. He wasn't interested in being poked and prodded any more.

"Lex?"

Apparently thoughts had turned to hazy hallucinations. "You're okay...?" His voice was wobbly, tired-sounding to his own ears, and rough like he *had* inhaled some chemical that had scalded his throat.

"Yeah," Clark sounded a little uncertain, but moved close to him. "You seemed to get the worst of it. I... I had to come and see if you were okay."

"Am I okay? Haven't... been awake very long." Just long enough to feel depressed at finding himself alone in the room. "Thanks."

Clark moved around so he could sit next to the bed and actually look at him. "Looks like a concussion, some minor cuts and bruises, but a bad burn on your hand there. That's what the chart says anyway." He was speaking in a low voice as if worried someone would find him there.

That was nice, too. He'd just gotten himself comfortable, and moving to face the other direction hadn't been too appealing. "Then that's a good chart. You... saved my life."

Clark shook his head and smiled at him. "Not really. The table did most of the work Lex. I'm the uh... bastard who tried to squeeze your injured hand in an effort to be comforting."

"I remember." Lex gave a faint, quiet chuckle. "I sort of freaked out. I'm sorry, Clark."

"What are you apologizing for? I'm the idiot that didn't even think." Clark's gaze was fixed on him as if he wanted nothing more than to just sit there with him.

That... was nice, too, even if Lex wasn't sure what he should so with it. He shifted a little on the pillow, twisting more so he could look at Clark better. "Your eyes are really blue right now."

"They are?" Clark blinked. "Must be the light. Careful, you have a concussion. Don't move around too much."

"Better a concussion than a hole in my chest or my face ripped off." Lex yawned, and half-moved his heavily bandaged hand to cover it, since he was hugging onto his pillow with the left one.

"I... better go. I'm not really meant to be here," Clark said in a low voice. "But I had to see if you were okay."

"Why aren't you supposed to be here?"

Clark gave an embarrassed sort of smile. "I apparently went a bit... obsessive about wanting to see if you were okay after they took you away. Winters decided I was probably the last thing you needed right now. He told me to back off basically. Told me to go home. So I just... went."

Obsessive. Maybe that was normal -- Lex wasn't sure what was or wasn't normal. He was sort of a sucker for love at first sight, and he'd at least had interest at first sight. Clark made a pretty cute 'Lost Guy in the Hallway' that first day. "Well. Stay. If you want to, I mean."

"I do. But... only if it's not going to mess you up or make things worse." Clark looked at him again, blue-green eyes faintly damp-looking. "Maybe he was right, maybe there is something weird going on between us."

"He worries about me. He's a good supervisor." Lex shrugged his shoulders. "I... I don't know how things are supposed to go, Clark. It, it seems like I liked you pretty fast. Like I said, I only have two speeds."

"If you ask Chloe I only have one, which is terminally confused," Clark replied in a low voice. "It wasn't the explosion that shook me up. It was the thought that if things had been even a moment different I could have lost you. I became a babbling idiot."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Lex smiled a little blearily. He probably looked like hell, but there wasn't much point in trying to put on a good impression just then. "You're sweet."

Clark smiled and couldn't resist it -- his fingers were drawn to Lex's face by a faint wisp of recollection. He stroked soothing fingers over Lex's forehead and down over his unmarked cheek. "So sweet you kneed me in the groin?"

Soft touch. Just a brush, but it felt so good. So good that Lex closed his eyes, and just reveled in it for a moment as it briefly overwhelmed that throbbing in his skull and hand. "That was panic talking."

"In that case you have some very vocal body language Lex," Clark repeated the gentle touch, soothing rather than provocative. Comforting and speaking in that same body language that he was cared for, watched over and protected.

"I've been told that," Lex agreed, still smiling at that touch, over the way that Clark wasn't pressing the bruises but the skin that didn't hurt. It made his heart warm, just drifting in gentleness. "I've also been told I'm not allowed to play with the evidence. One time..."

The door opened again and Adam stepped inside, nearly dropping the cup of coffee that had provided Clark with the opportunity to sneak in. It didn't make a good picture, with the pair of them staring at each other like they were on drugs, and Clark caressing Lex's face.

"Kent! What the hell are you doing here?"

Lex took it in concussion induced stride. "He's saying hi." In a really nice way, one which Lex wished Adam hadn't interrupted.

Clark looked a little like a deer in headlights as Adam turned on him. "Winters called me about you. He wasn't expecting you to just walk off like that without seeing anyone. You could be walking around with a fucking concussion or something. Looks like he was right about you being a would-be stalker or something."

Clark shook his head. "Lex is my friend, I... I just needed to know he was okay." He looked at Lex mutely apologizing.

"Adam? He doesn't know what he's doing anymore than I know what he's doing. Or I'm doing. I don't know. Just let us muddle through it. He saved my life in the lab." Lex moved his bandaged hand in something like a wave. Or maybe it was the finger. Lex wasn't sure, because with all that wrapping, both looked the same.

He was sure, after he tried the finger for kicks.

"You want him to stay?" Adam asked, glaring at them both. "Even if he is an obsessive reporter?"

Clark straightened a little, emboldened by Lex's support. "Who incidentally was blown up tonight, as well as your colleague? Or is trying to help someone a crime, just as liking someone seems to be?"

"Yeah." Lex paused, eyes closed a little, then added, "I mean, I want him to stay. I'm really tired, and it's nice not to be here alone. How's everyone else?"

"A few cuts and bruises. Winters called me," Adam replied, still frowning. "Chloe had a cut to her arm which needed a few stitches. Chrissie had a small laceration on her face. Ed is fine, because of all the impact shielding in his room. Ash got a bit banged up -- he was tossed down the corridor. Klaus and Theresa were out on a call. Kent here... I heard someone say he had minor stuff but as he just walked off, we don't know."

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Clark replied wryly.

Adam narrowed his eyes at him. "I wasn't."

"Sounds like I never left the department," Lex mused. He moved a hand, the one that had been hugging at the pillow, to loosely grasp Clark's wrist. "Let me know when the sugar starts to get thrown around the break room."

Adam gave a long look at Lex's shift in position. "I will remove the temptation. If you need me for any reason, Lex, I'll be outside the door. At all times."

He gave Clark another look, as if challenging him to try something. It seemed that Adam's loyalty was hard to earn and he clung to suspicion as if it was his religion. He got up and headed towards the door, taking a chair with him.

Lex just kept his eyes loosely closed, enjoying the relative and small feeling of comfort that was starting to seep in among all the pain. "So, you're really okay?"

"What me?" Clark waited as the door clicked shut. "Yeah. Bruises, bloodied nose, that kind of thing. I've got a hard head."

"Lara would prob'ly agree." Lex muffled a yawn, shifting a little to get comfortable. "Sorry, things are hazy. Thanks for coming, Clark."

"Shush, you just go to sleep. I'll just sit here, okay? Winters told me to rest, and I can do that here as well as at home," Clark murmured. Lex still had a loose grasp around his wrist, and he shifted his hand a little so it was their fingers that rested comfortably together.

Two of Lex's fingers on that hand were wrapped in gauze, but he didn't protest the loose clasp. It was nice, gentle, and Lex had a soft spot for gentleness. A soft spot as deep as the Mariana's Trench, but it didn't matter that Clark was exploiting a weakness of his. It was a nice weakness, one that people didn't exploit often enough.

He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone in the hospital *and* he was safe at the same time.

Clark watched as Lex's eyes closed, and Lex settled into a drowsing sleep and smile. For his own curiosity he 'peeked' through the bandages to see the severity of the injuries and paused and smiled again. If he held the focus at the microscopic level he could see the burns healing. Healing quicker than anyone he had seen before. Lex was different, was unique in many different ways. He wondered if Lex knew about his ability. Maybe it was just another complication in his life that paled into insignificance next to everything he had endured.

Some day they'd find a way to talk about all of this. But not right now.

Just then, the moment was best reserved for resting. Lex was okay, and even if Clark *was* being obsessive, Lex also seemed not to mind. His fingers were still loosely clutching, and that faint physical contact had made a world of difference in Lex's mood.

No matter what he tried to do, he was a night owl by nature. That meant that when the rest of the apartment building was asleep at three in the morning, he was rolling around the inside of his apartment, trying not to go stir crazy. Because someone *had* tried to kill him, and he didn't want to go out and do anything, and, and...

There were a lot of 'ands'. A lot of 'ands' that had driven Lex to his old steadfast routine of setting up camp in his living room, watching TV, playing around with his laptop, and working on the design of his newest LEGO creation.

He hated having so much time off.

It hadn't helped that he'd had that time to brood on the latest development in the saga that was unfolding. The morning after the letter bomb attack, most of the papers in Metropolis had been blanketed with a blatant smear campaign. Dressed up as a salacious angle on the current story, the Inquirer had started to pull out the history of his wild times when he had tried to drown himself in sensuality, trying to find love.

The situation had escalated from there, and he could recognize it clearly as his father's handiwork. He wasn't sure about the bomb, but this -- yes, his father would assassinate his character where he wouldn't assassinate him physically.

It didn't even make sense. He was a nobody. No one really cared about what the son of some rich bastard did or didn't do fifteen years ago, did they? He was a nightshift guy. A nothing in the grand scheme of things. He ran some charities from the background, liked to do that, liked to struggle to get DNA out of bone, and... that was it.

Lex fiddled with the remote control for a moment, and took a sip of his espresso. He just wanted to be a nobody and left alone. What was happening was... was exactly why he'd always kept silent. Bad enough to be made a victim over and over and over years ago. But to have it happen again?

True, he had people looking out for him. If not for them, he could truthfully say he probably wouldn't be here, particularly as years of shame marched their way across the headlines. Admittedly some of his supporters had their issues themselves; he couldn't help but feel guilty about the fact that this wasn't just affecting him.

It was like a living autopsy of his life, each quivering mass of memory and emotion being wrenched out, weighed, assessed and recorded in the public eye.

It... it wasn't public interest. It was his fucking *life*. Every little mistake he'd ever made being looked at and writers judging him. The fucking thing hadn't even gone to trial -- the worst part was that it was discrediting anyone else who was a survivor. There were probably fifty of them, maybe more. A lot of them had probably moved out of the city, to quieter places to start over, if they were lucky. And he'd been picked out of all of them to be raked over the coals for something he hadn't ever chosen to do.

Lex wasn't sure how what he did *after* the fact weighed on what had happened first. He could remember being eight, mouth stretched around Dominic's cock. The way that the man's big hands shoved his head down until he was choking and couldn't breath, until hair and skin smothered his nose and it was only his gag reflex that got the man off. That first time he'd thrown up, and Dominic had laughed and made him clean it up. Laughing all the while. Someone was always laughing, or shouting, or drawing attention to him. About how his ass looked when it was all stretched out by a clear glass coke bottle, or how his face bruised up when he was slapped. It, it was always something...

He wasn't sure how those events were any less valid because he'd snorted cocaine to feel better.

There was a knock at the door. He hoped it was Clark. Clark seemed to be dropping in at all hours, whenever he could in between working. Even if it was just to sit with him and work on whatever story, or fill him in.

There was something that really warmed Lex about simple, quiet companionship. Just knowing that there was someone there, a little warmth in the room with him. A little simple conversation, even if it was about mundane things like what he was building, or Clark needed to put more gas in the tank of his car. Or groceries. Stupid shit that Lex was okay with. He put his coffee cup down, and moved to the door to answer it, hoping.

"Well, well... My illustrious brother," Lucas drawled as he propped up the door frame, dressed in the latest club fashions in the smooth 'over-rich' casual style that was worked at. "Thought I'd drop by, see how well you were doing at wriggling out from under the paternal thumb."

Compared to Lucas, Lex standing there in loose sweatpants and a T-shirt looked pretty un-illustrious. "It's nice to see you, too," Lex muttered. Damn, he'd been hoping that it was Clark, not more hassle come to visit him. "What can I do for you?"

"Well you could invite me in," Lucas said, making the words redundant even as he sauntered in the door. "I'd say it was a nice place you have here, but I was never one for inanities."

Lex hung back for a minute, then closed the door quietly. Lucas looked out of place in Lex's perfect sanctuary, a stark, dark kind of contrast to his warm toned decorum, the laptop sitting on the sofa, the plastic box of LEGOs on the floor. "I know, Lucas. So why don't we just cut to the chase. What can I do for you?"

"Are you going to do a prodigal son or not?" Lucas said bluntly. He turned to look at Lex, his eyes dark and shadowed. "It's a hell of a show, but I'm kinda impatient to see if my position becomes officially redundant as of now, and whether I should start looking around to pick out grave plots in the next week or so."

It was always funny how Lucas wanted to be Lex, and Lex... Lex just wanted to be left alone. Funny like Dostoevsky was funny when he wrote Crime and Punishment. So he gave his brother a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Lucas, do you really want me to come back into the fold? No. Do I want to go back? No."

"You know as well as I do that what we _want_ has little to do with it." Lucas sprawled over one of the chairs as if he didn't really care. "I'm second best, Lex, always have been." He gave a bitter twisted grin. "And it's not like the Luthor family doesn't have a history of getting rid of inconvenient members."

"That's just why I'm not going back. I don't want to be part of that, Lucas. And maybe you shouldn't be, either. Lucas, you can walk away..." He reminded Lucas of that almost every time that they met, and every time, Lucas said no. But maybe one day, things changed. Like a snap, because that was how things happened.

"Walk away? Like you've managed to walk away? So what's this current media frenzy?" Lucas looked at him. "I've made it a race, Lex. I'm going to see if I can party myself to death before our Father decides to cut his losses and have me succumb to some convenient hereditary disease like he did to your mother."

Lex worked his jaw for a moment, and then moved to sit down on his sofa, motions slow. "Don't make it a race. He's old. He'll die soon, Lucas, and then everything is going to you. Maybe he'll die in prison, if this shit doesn't get to me first."

Lucas looked at him a long moment and it was rather disturbing to see how much the expression in his eyes was like that what Lex saw when he looked in the mirror. "Yeah, well. Call it a suicidal impulse on my part, because fuck knows why I'm telling you this... He's planning something else. To do with you. All this chumming the water that he's doing is preparation. Only, his main business partner differs in his opinion on how they should deal with the problem. And me? I'm a loser." He gave a bitter sardonic smile.

Tired. 'Used to it'. Maybe it was a side effect of surviving Lionel's mind games. "Do you want to trade pasts, Lucas?" Lex asked a little sharply. "I've made the most of myself. You can, too. You're second best? So what. I was his moneymaking *whore*. If that's what you get for being the 'best liked' son... hell."

"You misunderstand me. I'm not jealous of you. I don't want to be you. We've both been fucked over in different ways." Lucas shifted slightly, leaning forwards. "My survival and yours is linked. If there's one skill Dad has ignored that's ingrained into me, it's surviving. I don't particularly want to die, but I can tell he's looking at me in a way that means he's speculating on how to write my eulogy. Which means he has something in mind for *you*. I was an 'orphan' and a street kid Lex. Your charity rescues kids like me. I had to rescue myself and in the process... morals became optional. I'm not giving you this warning to do you a favor. It's in my best interest, that's all."

"Living tends to be." Lex leaned forwards, rubbing at his temples. "I'm not going back, Lucas. I... I'm going to make it through this, weather this storm. And go back to being a nobody that tips too much at Starbucks and loves his job."

"You'll never be a nobody, Lex. All Luthors have a 'destiny'. Even bastard sons," Lucas said as he got up in a fluid movement. "Watch your back, brother. I'm going to be too busy watching my own to help you out."

Lex waved his still-bandaged right hand. "Yeah, I know. This isn't something where I can count on people to watch out for me. Even my mail's out to get me."

"Yeah, well, Morgan Edge never was very subtle was he?" Lucas replied as he headed for the door. "Goodbye, Lex. Hopefully I'll see you again."

"Subtle like a brick to the head." Lex gave a rough laugh as he got to his feet. "Christmas, right? I'll try to show up. If there's going to be anyone left to actually attend the soiree."

"Yeah. We'll see how it goes," Lucas said and Lex could see the moment when he slipped back into his role as rich kid playboy as clearly as if he had thrown on another jacket. It made it difficult to tell what out of their meeting had been an act and what had been the truth. Perhaps the truth was Lucas's entire life was one act after another.

"Have a good night, Lucas." Lex stopped to open the door for Lucas, watching his brother. Different coping skills. The only way Lex could handle living was to stop that shit and just live, one moment to the next. No masks, no games, nothing for show, whereas Lucas tried to hide within different masks surrounded by enemies. As he watched Lucas leave, he had to wonder which of them was more alone.

He had a home that was his. And he had coworkers who liked him. He had... a place in the world, a place where he was appreciated for what he could do more than who he was. Or wasn't. He'd... moved past looking for his father's love, because it wasn't coming. Love was a funny thing, and looking for it didn't bring it,

His contemplation meant that he didn't hear Clark knocking until he was practically ready to knock the door down to get to him. "Lex? Lex, are you okay? Lex? "

"Shhh!" He got up in a jolt, unsure of how much time had passed but sure that his neighbors didn't appreciate late night noise. Not much more than he appreciated daytime noise, but what could a guy do?

The banging stopped. It was a rather sheepish looking Clark outside his door when he reach it to let him in. "I seem to be making a habit of creating havoc in your hallway," Clark said in a near whisper. "Sorry, I got worried."

"Didn't mean to worry you -- I was just thinking." He reached out to pull Clark in by his coat. It was a night of visitors, it seemed. "My place has been a revolving door. You just missed my brother."

"Lucas?" He nearly tripped at being tugged, but then, he never really tripped. "Thank God I missed that. What did he want?"

"To warn me that the Luthor family is moving into a state of war. Like I didn't already know that." He closed the door quickly, and then tugged at Clark's coat again. Maybe Clark'd take his coat off and stay for a while. "So what brought you here?"

Clark allowed the coat to be taken. "Klaus found the leak. A very dead leak, but the guy responsible for sending the bomb to you by internal mail."

"But I thought the leak was a cop...?" Lex shook Clark's coat out of habit, then put it up on the hook beside his own.

"He was. Phelen, or something his name was. Obviously the fact that he failed meant his pay off was in lead rather than in cash," Clark said as he moved to what was now his habitual spot on the sofa. "But that's not the good part."

No, it wasn't. The good part was that Clark -- "Wait, you said his name was Phalen?" No, Clark had said Phelan, but Lex didn't know an officer Phelan. He knew a Phalen.

"That's it. Yeah, Phalen. Better correct that in my notes," Clark said. "You know -- knew him?"

"Knew him. For a while, Dad had him going back behind me cleaning up my messes." The messes that were now all over the front page of the fucking Star and the goddamned Inquisitor.

"Yeah, well that wasn't all that he was cleaning up," Clark replied. "Phalen obviously thought that he was going to outwit Lionel some day and he kept blackmail evidence. He has his own pictures, Lex, of everything that's been going on over the years. The team is swarming over his apartment right now, but they have pictures with identifying features!" Clark was beaming at him, waiting for the importance of what had happened to sink in.

It didn't sink in the way that Clark had wanted it to. "I..." He sat down beside Clark, and closed his laptop to put it into standby. "I don't really remember him ever being there." It wasn't like he could've paid much attention, when he was usually looking up close and personal at someone's hips, their pubic hair, and taking it from behind at the same time.

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't most of the time. It's not of every single thing, but there are deliberate shots of powerful people in very illegal situations. I think he rigged his own cameras, and I think he usually did clean up, but I checked the records and when the girl was found, he had been in the ER after breaking up a domestic violence call." Clark said. "He knew all the procedures, what you and your team looked for. And his impromptu stand in didn't. Do you understand what this all means, Lex?"

"It means..." Meant that one more person he'd trusted hadn't done a damn fucking thing to help him. That was what it meant. "I don't know." It meant that his head hurt.

Clark twisted and reached to take Lex's uninjured hand spontaneously. "Lex, it means we got them. The whole ring. Undeniable evidence. Phalen did all the work for us, and he knew what was needed to make charges stick! Understand? Dominic and all those others will be going to jail no matter how good a lawyer they can hire."

"Just... like that?" Lex knew that cases sometimes fell into place, but... "It's over?"

"Not completely, but there's a huge amount of warrants being processed right now. There are going to be a lot of people being arrested in the next day or so," Clark said looking at him. "If they hadn't tried to kill you, this might not have happened. If you hadn't had the courage to go ahead with this... then they could have continued."

Courage. Lex shifted, pulling back into himself with a slouch of his back, but let Clark keep holding his hand. His fingers twitched. "Courage. I just... said what had happened to me. That was it."

"Sometimes, words require more courage than any physical heroics," Clark said seriously. "But we have to keep you safe. Winters is preparing, like he's expecting a siege."

"My father's prepared for a full out defense. Defense to a Luthor means attack first." Lex rubbed at one eye, and sat back, pulling away from Clark. "I'm sorry you've gotten caught up in this."

"Don't be sorry," Clark replied, looking at him. "If I wasn't involved I wouldn't have met you." He smiled a little. "And wouldn't be able to annoy you for fanfic sequels."

Lex's laugh was a little tired, but it still came up as he looked back at Clark. "That's some bright side."

"I've got 20/20 in my sight for looking for silver linings," Clark replied "And you're a hell of a silver lining, Lex."

He didn't know what to do with compliments, so faced with coming back with a response... Lex floundered. "I still... wish it hadn't been quite like this. I mean, this way."

"So do I," Clark said seriously. "I wish nothing like this had ever happened to you. But I'm sure that no matter what, we would have met. I can't imagine not knowing you somehow."

It seemed fated. After all, how many people did Lex meet and just... click with? Not many. And it wasn't just a click, it was a sense of right, a sense that he really needed to be there. With Clark, sitting on the sofa and pushing down stress with a mental shovel. "Yeah. Neither can I. You... You're something. And you've been a lot of help through... everything."

"I'm not going anywhere, you know that?" Clark said, meeting his eyes deliberately. "When this is all over, that's not the end of things -- unless you really don't want me around." The words were calm but Clark's own eyes were filled with a tentative hope and worry that was easy to read.

"No. But..." Lex shifted, sitting on one leg as he turned to Clark. He was damnably unsure of how to move on without moving too far. The stroking at the hospital had been the last time that Clark had touched him, other than grabbing his hand sometimes or passing things. It wasn't much for him to go on, and he wasn't sure that he was qualified to *make* a first move. Or even chew over something so simple, so much. He'd pulled a train at a club when he was seventeen. It was being kicked around the papers. Lex Luthor Sex Fiend. Maybe none of it was real, and it was only his body wanting to revert back to doing that. Since it came to him like second nature.

When he was eight, he'd obviously been made for sex and had just asked for it. Wearing his school uniform like that, oh yeah. He'd asked for it.

"I, I don't know what things are."

"In what way, Lex?" Clark asked softly. He seemed to have some sort of willingness to try and understand at least.

"I... really like you, Clark. I'd... I'd like to..." Hell, he'd made it so *obvious* when they'd been in the loft. But that was before Lois started the city's media into ripping holes into him, before all of his memories were being judged and shoved back into his face. "I don't know."

"I would, too," Clark replied. "But I can wait until you feel ready, I told you that, Lex. Really ready, not something you're forced into, or as a reaction to other things. Something you really want. Are you worried that I might push things or something?"

"No. That I'll... fuck things up. I don't... I *really* don't know how to have a normal relationship, Clark. I don't know step one, or what's normal, or..." Well, he knew that angsting over that wasn't normal.

Clark smiled at him. "Lex, I don't think I'd know normal if it bit me on the ass." And broke its 'normal' teeth on his Kryptonian buns, but he didn't venture to say that aloud. But it surprised him to think that he would store up that comment to share with Lex some day. That in itself told him something about the level of trust he'd developed for the other man.

"We don't have to be normal. We can make up our own rules, Lex. We are already."

"So why're we sitting two feet apart?" It was awkward, and a stupid question to ask, but Lex sort of blurted it, voice aching a little.

Clark looked at him and shifted closer. "Ask, and you shall receive," he said softly. "I didn't want to push you where you weren't ready. Can I... can I hold you? Would that be too much?"

Lex laughed a little raggedly, and moved his arms -- a little careful of his still wrapped hand -- around Clark, getting as close as he could. "No. It's not too much."

Clark very carefully put his own arms around Lex, seeming to relax considerably as he did so. "You feel good," he admitted. "As good as I remember from when we were at home and I was holding you then."

"I'm usually pretty tactile, if I start it myself," Lex murmured, shifting against Clark until they fit together nicely. It didn't take much work, either, since they were roughly the same height and only different in musculature. Clark was *built* for a reporter, with muscles that Lex could feel without even having to look for them. "Since this broke, no one's wanted to as much as shake my hand. It's strange."

"In my case, probably because you nearly had a heart attack when I inadvertently touched you that first time I came in," Clark said with a slight smile. "And... since it broke, you've been flinching from contact, just a little. Except Lara, of course."

Which went great with all those accusations that he was a pedophile, right? Right. Lex closed his eyes, comfortable to be leaning into Clark, cheek to cheek. "Hadn't really noticed." He shivered a little even under Clark's touch, but moved closer.

"I understand, I just wanted to let you know that it wasn't because I don't want to touch you, Lex," Clark murmured. "Quite the opposite. But I don't want you to feel anything but good when I touch you."

"That sounds nice," Lex half-whispered. "I... I've had a lot of experience. A lot of it was... like the pictures. You saw those?" He shuddered a little, but maybe he just needed to turn the heat up. Clark felt like a furnace compared to him, and it felt so good to be held.

"Some, yes." Clark cleared his throat. "You've had a lot of experience in being abused and in being... fucked, Lex..." The word sounded strangely wrong coming from Clark's lips. "But you're a complete virgin when it comes to making love, aren't you?"

Clark didn't strike him like the fucking sort. He struck Lex AS the lovemaking sort, the kind of guy that a tumble in the hay would be really good with. And maybe he meant that literally, if it wouldn't bother the cows too much. "You could say that." He scoffed it a little, but it was hard to hide the truth of his words when he was that close to Clark, so close that they couldn't even manage being face to face.

"When... if the time comes, that's what I want it to be, Lex," he said seriously. "Making love. Something real. Something for you, most of all. If I have to wait years, then I'll wait years for it to be the right time. But I can't decide when it is the right time for you. You have to do that and let me know. I can be dense bout these things sometimes according to... well, every woman I've ever known, I think."

"You're sweet," Lex reiterated, turning his head to tentatively brush a kiss against the side of Clark's jaw. Faint stubble touched at his lips, and with it came a flood of thoughts that Lex didn't want to think, so he settled his head down a little and sat still. "Going to be here for long?"

"Until you kick me out?" Clark replied smiling delightedly at that feather touch of lips.

"When do you have to go in to work?" Lex clarified, pulling back a little to look at Clark's eyes. Green again. Funny.

"Afternoon sometime, I GUESS. I'm not exactly following regular times at the moment," Clark replied.

But sometime, he could. When the case was over, Clark would go back to daytime work like a normal person, and Lex...?

Maybe he could transfer to working days. And maybe he was crazy for thinking that. Hell, he still hardly knew Clark, even if it felt... felt right. You didn't change your life around one person, did you? Or because of one person?

Except that you did if you were Lex Luthor.

"Mmm. How about I pop some popcorn and put in a movie?"

"Sounds great," Clark agreed, and he genuinely sounded as if it were the highlight of his day. And maybe it was. Lex couldn't be sure, but that didn't stop him from shifting backwards to get off of the sofa, out of Clark's arms. He'd be back. With popcorn.

"Why don't you pick something out?"

Clark nodded and busied himself looking through Lex's movie collection and grinned as he saw one and picked it out. They never had gotten around to watching it over Thanksgiving. He waited until he heard Lex nearly done in the kitchen. Then he put the film on to roll through the obligatory warnings as he returned to the couch, and shook out Lex's sleeping bag for him. He'd noticed Lex's predilection for making 'nests' for himself and was subtly pointing out that he didn't have to stop just because Clark was there. In fact, quite the opposite; Clark was very sure he would like to become part of that nest if he could.

There was no reason for him to unsettle Lex's habits -- they weren't bad habits, and Clark could work with them. Lex eventually came back with soda and a bowl of popcorn balanced on top of the two glasses he was carrying. "Hey -- good choice!"

"The Holy Grail," Clark replied. "I've got it paused. Come, sit down and we can enjoy a classic. And you can tell me how I was doing my horse impression wrong after all."

It brought a grin to Lex's mouth as he spotted the sleeping bag. He moved to sit down beside Clark, shifting to balance foodstuffs and get himself comfortable. "Believe me, I will."

Clark moved to make it obvious that he wasn't intending to give up his holding rights so easily under the guise of reaching for some, popcorn and smiled back as he pressed play and they found a comfortable arrangement together. Soda ended up on the end table nearest Clark, popcorn shared between them, Lex curled up against his side. It was comfortable, and they both needed a laugh just then.

Clark had to wonder how it was that just sitting and watching a movie with Lex was quite so satisfying to him, so pleasant and appealing to all his senses that he just wanted to be there. He had the internal knowledge that he was doing something very worthwhile. It was nice to watch a film that they both knew well enough to quote and weren't embarrassed to show how funny they thought it was. It was enough to settle them into a warm comfortable closeness that had nothing to do with Lex's sleeping bag, or Clark's body heat, and everything to do with a developing rapport.

It was something that both of them needed more than they knew.

Somehow walking to his car had brought him to a groggy headache, a splitting pain behind his right eye, and a tight feeling around his chest. Tight and sticky, over his wrists, his...

It took him only a moment to realize that it was duct-tape, stretched over his mouth too when he tried to yawn. Lex hadn't even opened his eyes, didn't need to know that he was in a bad situation. You weren't supposed to get wrapped in duct-tape when you were going to the grocery store to stock up again. All he'd wanted was to get some sugar, eggs, milk, things like that. Not duct tape.

The scene didn't get much better when he finally did open his eyes.

Surrounding him, in various states of restraint was the majority of his department in an unfamiliar room that looked like it was some sort of warehouse or basement. This did not bode well.

The splash of Chloe's blonde hair made her the most easily distinguishable and she appeared to be one of the most mobile, though when he looked at her she was still desperately doing the equivalent of a contortionist act to get her bound hands in front of her. It would be the last time any of them joked about her yoga classes.

Lex groaned, and jerked against the duct tape. Everyone looked like they were wrapped up the same, except -- someone over at the other corner had chains around them?

It had to be Adam by the looks of it. from the spill of dark hair he could see. Some of the others weren't moving as yet and he seemed to be one of the first to wake up. Chloe managed to get her wrists in front of her and ripped at the piece over her mouth and then semi crawled over to Lex and rather awkwardly fumbled with the duct tape over his mouth and yanked it off with a few sharp tugs.

"Oh, Jesus," Lex gasped quietly. He shifted, trying to squirm himself upright. "Thanks..."

"You okay?" Chloe whispered hoarsely. "I... I think it's Edge's people. I was just heading out to work and there was some sort of chloroform or something and I woke up and..." She looked around. "We're not alone."

"No, I doubt we are," Lex mumbled. They were probably being watched, He couldn't see Morgan just dumping them in a room and leaving them all together. There were probably gunmen on standby. Something. "I was getting groceries. Can you get my hands, so I can get yours?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try." Chloe shifted behind him. "There are some guys outside. I woke up when they were bringing in Ash. He was freaking, and they hit him. They seemed pretty confident that we couldn't get out. All this... duct tape shit seems to be for moving us around rather than anything else." She tugged at the tape. "Shit, I snapped a nail..."

In the end she had to bend down and rip at it with her teeth so she could pull him free.

"I'll pay for you to have them done up real nice," Lex promised, pulling his wrists apart when he felt it finally tear enough. For the first time in forever, he was glad not to have hair on his arms. "If we get out of here."

"We will. Superman's been keeping an eye on the department after the warrants went out and the shit hit the fan," Chloe told him seriously, chewing at her own bindings.

He pulled at his wrists and brought them forwards, reaching to pull at her tape, too. "I guess I've missed a lot while I was on leave?" Superman watching the department? It was that bad? And he'd been relaxing and resting with Clark. A twinge of guilt plucked at him. He'd just been concentrating hard on pulling himself back together.

"When the arrests started, some of them went into hiding, and all sort of retaliation started," Chloe replied finally snapping free. "Someone tried to gun down Winters on the front steps and... there he was, Superman. Out of nowhere! The bullets were just bouncing off of him. Then there was the attempted hit and run on Ash in the parking area..."

"Is he okay?" Lex got himself into a sitting position, and started to rip at the tape that bound his ankles together.

"Well, he was then. He can move pretty fast. But now? Dunno," Chloe said, her eyes glancing around at them all with a worried look. "I'm worried about Adam. I don't know what's happened, but they've chained him. And we've got... Theresa and Nigel, Ed's other half. Shit, Lex, it's practically the entire team."

"Except Klaus and Winters. And Ed." Lex sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes for a second before he ripped the tape off of his ankles with his good hand. The other was still sore and a little weak, and since Lex was expecting pain to come his way, there was no reason to start it early. He was in Morgan Edge's hands, after all. "I guess I missed the fun. They'll keep dayshift over. And they're good guys. They'll find us."

"Let's get the others free. Maybe between us we can come up with something to get out of here so they don't have to. They're after the case evidence, that much I heard," Chloe looked at him. "You take Ash and I'll get Nigel, then we'll all see if we can work something out about Adam. He's a damn idiot sometimes."

Her flippant assessment did nothing to stop her forehead frowning in concern as she glanced at her partner.

Chained. God only knew what kind of fight he'd put up to end up like that. "Right. We just need to... be ready for anything." Anything at all. Lex grimaced as he crawled over towards Ash. Morgan had always liked to try to slip his cock in under Dominic's, like he was built for taking more than one at a time. Sometimes they'd pull out, aim together, and get into him like they were one huge cock that then moved counterpoint. Morgan liked to be in front, because he'd always liked to watch Lex cry, scream, protest, everything.

He was going to be sick, and he hadn't even seen Morgan in years. Just knowing that that had to be where they were...

There was bruising on Ash's face, and he was making muffled noises as it was undoubtedly difficult to breathe with his mouth taped shut and his nose bleeding. But his eyes, when they snapped open were hard and dark as if he was pushed to his limits.

"Hey, Ash." Lex wiped at the other man's nose with his fingers, then wiped it on his pants before he grabbed the duct-tape and pulled. Ash wouldn't need to shave for a while, that was for sure.

"Ow, fuck!" Ash coughed and heaved for air a little. "Bastards. You okay? Edge is out there. I was slung over some guys shoulder -- built like a fucking shithouse or something -- and I saw him when they were trying to get Adam under control. He kneed the bastard in the groin I think," the trace technician said with some relish.

Lex moved behind Ash, and started to pull at the tape on his wrists. "Yeah. We're mostly okay. Chrissie's here, Theresa, Adam, Nigel, you, me, Chloe... It's like being at the office." Lex let out a quietly shaky breath, and added, "Only not as much fun."

"Yeah, I noticed." Ash said grimly. "Jesus, we've even got Nigel here. We can barely get him to come with Ed to the Christmas parties."

"After that time with the tinsel, can you blame him?" Not that Lex liked to go to them much, either, but he at least put in an appearance. It was better than the LuthorCorp parties, where he spent his time cringed into a corner or looking for safe people to talk with.

There weren't many of those.

"Lex? Ash... can you give us a hand with Adam? He doesn't look too good," Chloe called out.

"Sure." Lex moved across the floor once he had Ash's hands free, leaving Ash to get his ankles un-taped.

That Adam had put up a violent struggle could be seen from the state of his clothes and the evidence of bruising littered all over his body bore witness to the reward for that struggle. When Lex approached he had his eyes shut, but his head rolled a little showing he wasn't completely unconscious.

"Dammit, Adam," Chloe muttered under her breath. "Why do you always have to do this? Am I so irritating that you felt the need to get yourself killed to get away from me? Huh?"

"Look, let's just see if we can get him unchained. You get the tape off his mouth," Lex instructed gently. Something bad was going to happen, and it was better to be untied when it *did* happen. The ironic thing was that his formative years had involved a fair amount of expertise involving chains and ties, and whoever had secured Adam had been fairly amateurish. It looked impressive but it could be removed.

Chloe peeled off the tape carefully and there was a moment of silence before Adam cracked open his eyes.

"You've got to get out of here now. Immediately," he slurred some of the words and he focused on Lex. "..is ransh..ransom. But going to shoot ush...us anyway. But Lexsh..." He coughed and spat blood to one side. "Wants you first."

Lex untwisted a loop of chain, and felt the while thing go slack under his fingers. Then he started to pull at the tape at Adam's wrists. "Yeah. I... I guessed as much."

"Can't let that... happen," Adam closed his eyes a moment while he was being tugged around. "Gotta move quick. Can't wait for rescue. Too late."

"It was too late the moment they got us," Lex murmured, leaning down a little.

"There's a gunport at the far end. In use." Nigel's voice nearby was a gruff, unexpected whisper as he veered away for a moment from untying Chrissie.

"There has to be a way out of this," Chloe said firmly and optimistically. "I used to get out of worse than this all the time in Smallville. Well, maybe not worse, but definitely near death."

Lex pulled at the tape at Adam's ankles. "Congratulations, Chloe. I guess we'll see?" He was trying to be optimistic, but he was flailing as he pulled away from Adam and then moved to -- oh, Ash was already helping Theresa. He sat back on his heels, and started to scan the room.

It wasn't looking hopeful. It was bare of furniture, of anything and they were under apparent observation. There were no windows except slits of toughened glass high up which they wouldn't be able to get through even if they could reach it. They were on a concrete floor with no convenient trapdoors or drains, so pretty much the only way was out was through the door.

The door through which shortly Morgan Edge would be coming -- for him.

If he was lucky he might arrange to get shot before something happened.

If he kicked Morgan in the nuts, maybe...

Lex's mouth tugged down tightly as he trained his eyes on the door, waiting. That was all he could do. He was *supposed* to be in the grocery store, getting coffee, things so he could make breakfast sometime. Real breakfast. Clark was a fan of food, and Lex figured he'd try to do something homemade. Worst case scenario, they'd make a mess of it together. Which wasn't a bad scenario at all.

That was what he could be doing. Something fun and simple, and... Lex wasn't going to get to do any of it. He was going to die. If he were lucky, he could distract them long enough that his coworkers might survive. That was a plan. If he could buy *them* time, then they might still be around when help arrived. It was strange, because for the first time there was a spark of him that really didn't want to die. A small spark, but one that had breathed gently into life and was smoldering thoughtfully.

But, he couldn't change who he was. He'd made a life out of trying to give something back, and fix his broken pieces somehow in the process. One last time then. At least he knew it would be for people worth everything he could give.

They were good people. Great people. Nice people. He'd have a good funeral turnout, right? That was something. Except he kept thinking about Clark, and Jonathan and Martha and Lara, and wondering what could've been. It was a nice thought. Something like a real family, that maybe he would've been part of for real. Jonathan was a lot like the father that Lionel never was, Lara was sweet, Martha reminded him painfully of his own mother, and Clark... Clark was everything he'd ever idly dreamed about having in a friend, a... a lover, maybe. Not ever, but maybe it would've been someday.

The door still hadn't opened, but someone was talking to him, and he hadn't heard a word.

"Lex? Are you listening? Adam thinks if they come to take you, we should rush them," Chloe said in a low voice. "That way, at least some of us might make it."

"They'll have guns." Lex sucked in a low breath, jerked out of his sad daydream a little violently. "None of you are Superman, so... I was thinking of providing a distraction to buy you time."

"No way!" Ash protested. "Are you kidding, Lex? We know what that fucking monster did to you! How can we let him just... take you?"

Apt use of words. Lex's mouth twitched again, maybe a little bitterly. Maybe a little crazily. He wasn't sure himself anymore. He had some really good memories, some really good hopes to hold onto, better than he'd had in years. He had a *future*, sort of, that reached past just taking it one day at a time. Maybe. Or he would've. But everyone else had had that all along, so why should he be selfish and...

It wasn't like he'd miss it. "I'm not joking. If we try to rush out, the gunner over there's going to shoot us all from behind. I can buy time."

"At what cost?" Chrissie asked, wincing a little as they huddled together around Adam and Lex. "What if we ball up all this duct tape and jammed that gun port at the same time? Might be enough."

"Don't know what caliber it is," Nigel muttered. He was still trying to get Adam to something like coherency, trying to get him to sit up. "Could just blow right through it."

"Edge likes high caliber guns." Lex leaned to the right, keeping his eyes on the door. "So. I don't know."

Adam leaned against the stocky man and pushed himself up straight. "We can take them. They're slow. Stupid. It was just the amount of them that got me before. They'll hesitate because they won't be sure whether they can kill us *yet*. They'll wait for an order."

"You're joking." Lex shifted, standing up slowly. "I don't want you guys to die. All right? Just don't do anything stupid."

"There... are things worse than death," Adam replied, even as he forced himself to follow Lex to a standing position to press his point. However, he was distracted by the door opening at that point before there was time to make further plans.

"Good evening, Lex." Morgan Edge hadn't changed that much. He wore his blond hair swept back in the same style as he had all those years ago and his eyes were the same bleached out fakery of a blue they had always been.

Like his soul had washed out. Lex went still like a deer in the headlights of a mac truck, forgetting all of his brave ambitions of going out there and providing a willing distraction. No, no, he couldn't do that. He...

Took a step forwards. "Long time, Morgan." He was dimly aware of Adam taking a step behind him, but the majority of attention was focused on the man who was as close to a gangster as ever to grace Metropolis's underworld.

"But I'm glad to see I left an impression. And I intend to reinforce that impression in the next... oh, say half hour before the deadline is up. I see no reason not to enjoy myself as a small payment for the trouble you put me through." The other man sounded as chilling and bitter as a winter frost. "You have no idea how much trouble you're in... boy."

"I'm not scared of you," Lex lied, taking another step forwards. Half an hour, huh? Not so bad. What was the worst that Morgan could do? Rip him up? Fuck him up bad? A horse? A dog? Kill him? He was already going to take Lex from the one thing that he'd looked forward to for years. Just... quiet, boring happiness. A life of doing good things and being happy on the side. Really... warmly happy. Making little changes in the world, and *happy*, and that was going to be ripped from him. That was the worst thing, and Morgan didn't even know he'd be doing it.

"You have no idea how much I held back then," he said giving a twisted grimace of a smile. "Come with me, Lex. Now." It was that same voice that had demanded the worst of things for him in the past.

Half an hour. If he provoked Morgan, he'd probably kill them all early. So he really was buying time... Dammit. He wasn't even going to get time to pull a 'Tell Clark I think I loved him,' line on Chloe. The really snappy lines never came until it was too late to actually use them. And he did, thought he loved Clark. Might've been sure with time. Now...

"Sure." Whatever. If he just shut down, his last bit of time wouldn't be so bad.

He wasn't expecting the lunge Adam made past him, and or that he'd grab hold of Morgan Edge and twisting him so if the gun port at the back opened fire it would kill their boss before anyone else.

"Run, Lex! Go!"

No one could believe he had actually done it, and if he had been slightly less battered from his previous encounter, Adam might just have pulled it off as he grappled from the crime lord's gun.

Lex gave a stuttered motion, and then did what he'd been told. He bolted, hoping to get past the thugs. No sense in wasting Adam's action, since it was too late to take it back.

The single shot behind him, even as he fled the room, was enough to make him flinch. Especially when he heard Edge bellow, "After him! I want him *alive*, the little fucker!"

If Adam survived, Lex was going to beat the shit out of him. Edge's guards had one clear advantage on him -- they knew where the hell they were going, and he didn't. He pulled at a door, and wasn't surprised to find that it was key dead bolted from the inside. Fuck fuck...

They were close behind him. All he could do was keep running, and keep running, like one of those nightmares that plagued him where he tried to run, to hide and no matter how fast, or desperate, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide or escape, just endless panic and...

He skidded to a halt as other men closed in on him from ahead, even as Edge rounded the corner. He expected Edge to order them to get a hold of him but he did a rather remarkable thing as one of the newcomers raised a gun at him.

Edge raised his hands cautiously. "What are you doing here, Darius?" Darius... head of his father's security detail? Lex turned his head a little, taking a back step. There wasn't any way to get out, and he was between two groups of armed, burly men.

"Reclaiming Luthor property," the burly man replied. "Back off, Edge. Mr. Luthor is not happy with you." He gestured and Lex was roughly seized. Once again, the duct tape was out in swift and liberal use. "He's of the opinion that this gambit is doomed to failure, and he knows of your tendency to eliminate evidence. He would prefer his flesh and blood to have other arrangements."

"Other fucking arrangements? This mind game shit? Look where that got us!" Morgan Edge yelled back at him. "The case centers on his testimony! Jesus fucking Christ, what's he going to do? Get him to promise nicely never to give evidence?"

Darius looked at Lex. "Mr. Luthor has made arrangements. Immediate arrangements, Mr. Edge. He suggests you attend to your own concerns and leave him out of it. We have what we want."

Lex struggled against being tied up again, cursing, kicking, and twisting. He wasn't sure what was worse, being in the custody of the man he'd been sold to on many occasions, or the man who'd sold him? He couldn't even shout once the tape was over his mouth.

Fuck. He wasn't even going to be a good distraction. And he could just imagine Edge going back into other room to shoot his coworkers.

Either way, he wasn't even going to get to know as he was carried out of the building at a hasty jog and bundled into the back of a limo, and left to wonder where the hell he was being taken, whether his coworkers would survived and whether he had just been dragged out of the frying pan into the fire.

Given that he was going from Edge to his father, he was going from the fire to the frying pan. Subtler, but still just as hot.

He kept trying to fight against the duct-tape, twisting and pulling with his wrists. It was difficult to judge the distance as the car was gliding along. They were heading out of Metropolis, he could tell that much just from the distance. So he wasn't being dragged direct to the penthouse as he feared. On the other hand, at least he knew what would happen there.

Or sort of hoped that he knew. But maybe not. It wasn't like he'd ever confronted his father about what had happened, so he could hold no illusions about what Lionel would do when threatened by Lex.

As the journey continued, he had more than enough time to wonder what had happened to his friends and coworkers. They had all been so adamant that something would happen to him, and he could just imagine Edge turning around and giving the order just to cut them all down. Adam... god, Adam, why had he done that? Was he dead because of Lex? And what had Darius meant by Lionel having things taken care of? If he wanted him dead then the safe thing to do would have been to leave him with Edge, let him do the dirty work and then exact retribution.

So why the second kidnapping?

Unless Lionel wanted him alive. But he wasn't sure what his father would do with him, alive. He wasn't any use to him. He wasn't going to be rejoining the fold. It was his life as it was, as he wanted it, or nothing. He wouldn't cave.

He just wished that his coworkers hadn't been stupid about it.

It wasn't a long car journey, but it was long enough to put them on the outskirts of the city. When the car finally stopped, Lex was dragged out literally but he managed to twist enough to catch a glimpse of electrified fences, and a blocky mass of a building that looked like it should be a prison.

But no prison he had ever heard of went by the name of Belle Reve. Now that, he *had* heard of. It was a mental ward, and his father had threatened to send him there a time or two when he was younger. And muttered about Lex sending *him* there through his willful outrageous behavior...

Maybe that was how Lionel was going to get rid of Lex.

He was starting to think that perhaps being killed might not have been so bad after all. He was carried in, and could see glimpses of staff looking at him furtively like they knew this wasn't right. Blank empty corridors, a maze of them blurred as he was taken to his destination.

The first he knew of it was being put on a cold metal bed and then, the tape was ripped from his mouth, even as assistants busied themselves taking off the tape from his wrists, and refastening him with straps.

"Good evening, Lex, I haven't seen you for a while." His rather ineffective therapist was there standing over him, looking at a clipboard.

"Yeah, I've been doing okay," he muttered, glaring up at her. "You mind telling me what the hell is going on here?"

"Well, your father has decided that the most effective way of dealing with this whole situation is to... well, start from scratch." Dr. Foster smiled at him. "I'm really sorry about this, Lex, but there's only so long that I could retard your progress therapeutically. Now he wants something rather more permanent and practical done about it. It will be a little hard for you to give evidence against him if you can't remember it. It seems, radical though the procedure is, he is willing to try it in light of recent developments."

*Retard* his progress? Lex jerked against the bindings. "You bitch. I thought you were helping me! You god-damned *BITCH*, I hope he kills you when you're done licking his god-damned boots!"

"I see you still have some anger management issues to process, Lex," Dr. Foster replied calmly. "As you won't remember this after the electroshock therapy, I really must congratulate you on having a very resilient core identity. No matter what, you seemed to be able to patch it together."

He let out a shaky breath, and tried to twist himself free. "How do you sleep at night? You're supposed to be a *therapist*! You know what they did to me, how can you..."

"Not entirely by choice, Lex. Unfortunately, I've had ample proof of everything you said about your father being able to control anything he focuses on." Dr. Foster was looking sincerely regretful as she went on, fidgeting with a pen. "I'm afraid the prospect of what happened to you being held over my head for my own daughter was enough to erode my professional ethics. I am truly sorry."

"You..." He jerked again, closing his eyes tightly. "You bitch. You could've said something, the police are closing in on him and you're *STILL* helping him. God... god dammit."

"But it wouldn't be soon enough," Dr Foster tested the straps. "Even if it were tomorrow, it wouldn't be soon enough."

For a moment she sounded sincere, and then blew away any shreds of decency.

"And of course the money helps as well."

"I hope you choke on your god-damned money!" They were too tight, and all he was doing with his fighting was hurting himself. But it didn't matter, because in a few moments she was going to see that they put electricity through his brain. "I'm not crazy! You can't do this to me!"

"It's the only way to save your life, Lex," she replied as the machinery was brought in. "And then we'll rebuild you a new one. One without the pain, one where you have a loving relationship with your father, where you're his heir and all of this is just fragmented memories of bad dreams... understand? Open your mouth."

He shook his head violently, mouth clamped shut. No. No, he had a good life. A job, friends, something he was doing to try to change the world. They just couldn't take it all from him like *that*. It wasn't *fair*. And if the only protest he could manage was shutting his mouth, then he'd do it.

He didn't get a choice as a rubber ball gag was forced into his mouth, and every part of his body was strapped down tight, including his head.

"We might have to give him a series," Foster was saying. "Let the unit charge and we'll make the first one count. We don't have time... You have men guarding the door?" He could hear Darius' agreement. "Good. We'll be done shortly. Clear the table. Electrodes fixed? Good. Nearly there..."

He muttered 'bitch' a few more times, and then started to scream protest against the back of the gag. No, he wasn't going to become both Lucas's and his own worst nightmare. He'd turned his back on that life, and Lionel had been the one to fail him. They couldn't kill everyone who'd ever known him... could they?

Maybe not, but perhaps they could make it so he didn't know them. It looked like either way he wasn't going to get a choice. Just like everything before. It had never been his choice then, and he'd worked hard to find choices he could deal with and control, and now all of that was going to be taken from him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could see from the frantic corner of his eye the moment when Dr. Foster reached for the dial and turned it.

He was expecting innumerable volts to pour through his brain and body, so he missed the blur and crash of something immensely fast and large punching its way through the building to that room. Instead of a searing shock, he could feel the warmth of two hands against his temples as electricity arced up and down two muscular blue clad arms.

Dr. Foster snapped the dial back to 'off', staring in shock at the blur of color that had ripped down the door and put his hands between the electrodes and her intended victim. Small arcs of electricity hit Lex, no worse than fiddling with a light socket, jarring him, but other than that, he was safe, and then he was being ripped free.

And it was literally ripped free. Leather restraints snapped like threads, even as the guards ran in and opened fire at them all. Bullets ricocheted, and Lex didn't quite wince when he heard a woman's voice gasp in pain. Then the presence was gone, and he heard the guns one by one by one stop firing.

By the time the man -- Superman -- had turned towards him again, any weapons they had held were pools of molten metal on the floor and there was a fire starting around them.

"It's time to get you to safety," Superman said, in a deep resonant voice. "I'll have to carry you. Are you hurt?"

He shook his head as he tried to sit up. Apparently those couple of tiny jolts had been enough to make him shaky, or the knowledge that his therapist had been hurting him for years now. "My coworkers, Morgan Edge has them..."

"They're safe, they're all at the hospital and Morgan Edge is in custody. I didn't get a fix on their location until the door was opened. There must have been sound proofing in the room," Superman replied with a hint of apology. "And there must have been sound proofing in your transportation, or you were subdued. I couldn't hear you until you started speaking. I apologize for cutting it so fine. The authorities will be here shortly, but you should be at a hospital. I'll fly you there, otherwise it could be some time before you're seen to and after such an ordeal, that would not be wise."

He pushed himself up sitting with his palms, looking at Superman's visage and his costume with more than a little awe in his eyes. "S... sure." There was something... familiar about him.

Superman lost some of his fixed professional manner and smiled as if he couldn't help doing so, before schooling his expression. "I'm going to pick you up. Please feel free to hold on."

He was lifted as if he were as fragile as a porcelain doll that the costumed 'superhero' was afraid of breaking. The definitions of muscles were clear under the costume. Superman paused and looked down at Lex in his arms.

His eyes were astonishingly blue. Blue as a burnished cloudless summer sky with the sun shining brightly, warm rather than hard -- and his embrace was like a furnace.

Lex moved one hand to the back of Superman's neck, speechless from the warmth that was blooming in his chest, mingling with stress and shock. Then an almost smug smile touched his mouth, and he murmured, "Holding."

Superman gave him a curious look and smiled again. "I won't let you fall."

Some self-indulgent part of Superman made him lift and cut the speed back to a point where the world was moving fast but not so fast it couldn't be appreciated, at least to start with. The night they rose up into was glittering with stars as they swooped up, the lights of Metropolis blazing ahead of them and the satellite sparks of Smallville, Granville and clusters of small towns flickering in the darkness.

They paused just a moment, long enough above it all for there to be nothing but silence, and then at speed, Superman shot towards the hospital in Metropolis where he had delivered all of Lex's colleagues and friends.

Lex simply held on. Up and down and up and down and up and down. Lex wasn't meant to swing through those extremes so much in one day; he wasn't built to handle it. Happy to be plotting grocery shopping and a surprise meal, then being kidnapped, then thinking he was going to die, a rescue, a trap, a betrayal and then... then this. Lex's eyes were dried by the wind, aching and raw by the time they landed, but he was warm from Clark's heat, and...

Not Clark. Superman. It still made him want to laugh, and it made him want to never let go.

Clark in his Superman mode was oblivious to Lex's revelation, as he landed gently at the hospital and set to enter. He paused to readjust how he was holding Lex and then in a subconscious movement, touched Lex gently over the side of his face as he had done when he was Clark sitting at his bedside. If there were any doubts, they were dispelled then and Clark seemed oblivious as he straightened up and entered the hospital ER. They found it still packed with members of the Metropolis CSI team and police to protect them all.

"Lex! He's got Lex! Is he okay?" Chloe hurtled out of a waiting area.

"That's for the doctors to decide, miss," 'Superman' replied in that deeper more resonant tone. It was true, he didn't sound as gentle or humorous as Clark.

Goofy. Clark was a lot goofier, but it was still the same person, Lex could see that. It seemed blindingly obvious now he had made the connection. Lex let Superman set him down instead of making an ass of himself trying to do it on his own; after all, he wasn't sure he would've gotten down by himself, because he didn't want to let go. Bright blue eyes, warmth, *warmth*. All the good things that were Clark. He'd been so scared that he'd never see him again, sad at the could-have-beens that he'd never get. And now he was *going* to get them. "I'm okay..."

He couldn't be imagining the fact that Superman was reluctant to let go of him, under the guise of making sure he was steady on his feet.

It was difficult for him to contemplate, because just then Chloe decided to throw their customary formality out of the window and hugged him. "We thought you were dead! We didn't know what had happened to you... and then there was Adam... and they were going to kill all of us!"

Lex looked back over his shoulder, dazed as he hugged Chloe back. "Is everyone okay?" Clark was okay. Clark was there, with him, and he really wanted to say something. Couldn't. It could wait a little while longer.

"Adam's in surgery -- they think he's going to make it. Well, they rate his chances as good. If Superman hadn't brought him straight here, it might be different. The rest of us have bruises and cuts." Chloe looked up at Superman. "Thank you again, Superman. I don't know how you can catch bullets like that but... we're grateful."

Superman inclined his head, crossing his arms across his chest as he saw a doctor come over to Lex. "If you will excuse me, I'll be making my statement. I hope this situation is soon resolved, and you'll all be out of danger shortly."

"Thanks..." Lex's eyes lingered, still a little wide. He knew a real life superhero. Who read comic book superhero fan fiction, and played with his little sister, and was good to his parents, and... And Lex really didn't want to be poked around by a doctor just then, but he'd see Clark later, he guessed. Hoped.

In the mean time, he was being whisked in for examination, and even Chloe's presence was waved off to one side as he was patched up once again. It was more luck than judgment that he didn't have anything too serious to add to his existing collection of injuries

Some bruises. He'd twisted his wrist fighting the straps. Some abrasions. A little contact burn at his temples. Other than that, he was fine to rejoin his colleagues in the waiting room, as long as they kept things quiet. A policeman escorted him back to the waiting room; the cops seemed happier to have their CSI team in one place, with no stray sheep since they were being hunted.

Winters was lurking somewhere around in the background, he could hear him. He could hear Chloe talking to Theresa, and nearly crying when she confessed that she was really scared for Adam, and not just because he was her partner and they worked together. He heard all of that before he entered the room properly, still a little unsteady from his close contact with the electricity.

They stopped and turned as he entered and Ash beckoned him in to sit, even though with the state of the bruising coming out on his face, it was a wonder he could see. "Lex. Come and sit down... you can have Ed's seat. He's off kissing Nigel or something."

The bandaging that came close to Ash's eyes probably didn't help his eyesight. "Can't blame him," Lex said shakily, as he did sit down. "I heard the gunshot."

"Shit, if I'd known he was going to do that, I would have been able to back him up," Ash muttered. "He damn well nearly pulled it off though. Couldn't believe it. All hell broke loose then. They took off after you, and Chloe was bawling her eyes out over Adam. We're talking Chloe here, right? Who abandons her 'I can deal with everything' image. Chrissie did first aid on him, and... well when they came back for us, they were just going to kill us, you know, and then there was this blur and all of a sudden they're there, their guns empty and this Superman guy just... lets the bullets fall from his hands. Incredible. I swear..."

"He stopped the electricity with his hands," Lex agreed with a little awe in his voice, still. It was just... so damn cool. It almost didn't feel real. "I'm glad you're all okay. I thought they would've killed you all after I was... taken by my father's people."

"I think they tried to go after you, I don't know. Theresa suggested that maybe Edge and your father were having a conversation about it or something," Ash poked at his face, prodding the bruised tissue. "Fuck, I'm going to be ugly for a few days. Anyway. We thought, well we didn't know you'd been taken when they came back. We thought they'd caught you. Anyway, then Superman turns up, and Winters too, and we're all whisked here immediately -- and all he's asking is, 'Where's Lex Luthor? Where's Lex Luthor?' To all of us. And we were here and he like, tilted his head to one side frowned and... there was a blur and he was gone. Next thing we know he's back here with you."

Funny. It felt like they'd been flying for forever. Maybe the warmth made him think that. Lex rubbed at his eyes for a moment, pressing his fingers in until they watered a little. That actually made them feel better. "He said he couldn't hear me until I started cussing out my... *ex*-therapist. My father had me taken to Belle Reve, and she was going to fry my brains out. It was like something out of a bad TV show."

"Jesus Christ. I thought my father was a bastard. At least he wasn't such a Machiavellian son of a bitch," Ash agreed. "He's the last one left. They got Edge tonight. Nigel punched him out even though technically the fight was over."

Lex held back the barb about that's why they didn't want Nigel to show up at the Christmas party. "Thank God. They need to get my therapist, too. She's... been feeding me shit for years to mess me up. She admitted to it because she didn't think I'd remember once she was done with me." The relief that Morgan Edge was in custody was a deep, resounding relief. No more threats from that man, no more thoughts that he'd ever have another run-in with him.

"Think it's all taken care of," Ash said tiredly. "They keeping you in tonight? Or you reckon we get to have protective custody somewhere?"

"Probably get protective custody somewhere," Lex sighed, lifting his head to look for Winters. "At least until they catch my father or deem it safer than it was tonight." Which he was just... sarcastically looking forwards to. He wouldn't be getting any sleep if they were put up somewhere.

"I'm hopeless about sleeping somewhere I don't know," Ash admitted mournfully. "Drugs. Drugs will be good... and... Hm. I wondered how long it would be before our reporter friend turned up." He was looking out over the waiting room to where he could see Clark talking vigorously with Winters as if asking permission to do something. And Winters, from the looks of him, was forbidding it.

"Great. You're not the only one with problems sleeping in unfamiliar places. I don't know what we're going to do, but... I'll be back in a minute." Lex grinned a little as he got to his feet, walking towards Winters and Clark. He was still unsteady, tired, shaky, everything. But. He was *alive*, and Clark really looked cute in those glasses.

He'd been more right about Clark's glasses than he'd ever thought. "Clark!"

Clark turned and almost literally beamed at him. "Lex! I... uh... well I wanted to see how you were but..."

"I didn't think you were up to it," Winters confirmed looking at Lex seriously.

"Are you joking?" Lex half-asked as he moved past Winters to hug Clark tight. Not too tight, and not too lingeringly, but it was enough. Even after the doctors had examined him, he could swear that he still felt Clark's heat on him, and another touch confirmed and doubled the feeling. "It's great to see you, Clark."

"I came as soon as I heard," Clark said hugging him back carefully. It was odd. Lex knew that it wasn't strictly a lie, but it was certainly misleading. "Are you okay?"

Winters was still not looking happy. "I see."

Lex flashed him a smile. "Fred, can I talk to you later? I think I need to sit back down again." That *wasn't* a lie, as he took a backwards step towards the chair that was still open beside Ash. Maybe he should just ask where this mysterious niche Ed and Nigel had disappeared into was, and if there was another one nearby.

Never mind that he had a sneaking suspicion that it was the men's bathroom.

Winters nodded, and after a brief hesitation, Clark followed him. Ash tried to leer at them, but ended up with a grimace of pain instead, and Clark took a brief detour to speak to the still upset Chloe before returning to Lex's side.

"Hey," he said, perching near him. "You feel okay?"

"Yes." Better than okay. Lex wanted really badly to run his fingers through Clark's hair. Wanted to lean down to kiss him. Wanted to... Do all sorts of things, a lot of which he was pretty sure he actually wasn't capable of. "I'm glad Lionel didn't think to try to get you, too."

"I don't think he particularly wanted me," Clark replied, his hand slipping to rest on Lex's shoulder. "I'm glad Superman was there to help you, even if he cut it fine from what the others were saying. Lois will flip, she hates missing out on a Superman story."

"I think with things as tightly wound as they are right now, it'd be better if Lois didn't make an appearance." The hand on his shoulder was nice, and Lex shifted faintly, leaning into it. Two speeds, but apparently he had a third one buried in there somewhere. Maybe 'subtle and coasting' wasn't beyond his grasp after all.

Clark leaned close. "I really want to hold you, make sure you're okay," he murmured in a low voice. "But I might give your boss and everyone else a fit if I did. You think they'll let me stay? They keeping you in, or moving you?"

"No idea. I'm medically fine," Lex shrugged, leaning in to slide his arms around Clark's shoulders. Let the rest of them have a heart attack. "I'll make them let you stay."

Ash cleared his throat. "You two going to start a game of tonsil hockey there? I might need a towel or something."

Clark flushed a rather impressive embarrassed red, but he didn't let go of Lex. Lex's mouth twisted and he turned to look at Ash, face brushing Clark's. "Don't worry, Ash. Or get your hopes up. You know, Ed and Nigel are probably in the men's bathroom..."

He turned back to Clark, and adjusted his arms. It was awkward, but nice to have contact. "I'm glad you came."

"When you and the others didn't turn up..." Clark looked at him, and then at Ash as well. "We were frantic."

"We were all pretty frantic, too," Lex joked weakly. He pulled at Clark, resting forehead to forehead with him so he could look at Clark's eyes for a minute. "Adam's apparently in rough shape, but... Superman got there in time. He's probably going to pull through."

"He will," Clark said with certainty. "At least that's what they said. How long are they going to keep you here?"

A glance over at the policemen, and Lex shrugged. "You should ask Winters. We don't know anymore than you do." Winters... did not look like a happy man. He probably thought that Clark was preying on Lex in a time of weakness.

"Do you really want me to stay with you? I will if he'll let me," Clark asked anxiously. "I really don't think you should be alone Lex. I know what your father can be like when he's desperate."

"He wanted to wipe my memory so he could reshape me." Lex's fingers moved, twitched, almost kneading Clark's shoulders. "I want you to stay."

"Then I'll find a way to stay." Clark sounded certain of that fact and looked up as Winters stepped in.

"Listen up. The good news is, Adam's out of surgery and the doctors say his prognosis is good. The bad news is, we're going to be moving all of you, including those who weren't taken, to a safe house until we can get Luthor. I've been informed that none of you are hurt enough to be at risk, so we'll be moving in fifteen minutes." Their head of department looked around. "Those of you with significant others or family who might be in danger, let me know immediately. Nigel's involvement shows me that loved ones are also targets."

Well, that wasn't much of a problem. Most of the department was devoted to their work, and Theresa had gotten dumped by her last steady boyfriend three months ago. Chrissie had kids, so they'd probably be joining them at the safehouse. Lex kept an arm around Clark's shoulders, but leaned to one side a little to elbow Ash gently. "Hey, do you want to retrieve Ed and Nigel from the restroom?"

"I can take a hint," Ash said nevertheless getting up to do just that. "There better be good drugs at this place."

He left the pair of them alone as he disappeared to rally Ed and Nigel to join them. Presumably, the only one not going with them would be Adam, as he'd most likely be in recovery.

And maybe even then he'd join them. Lex didn't mind that they were still essentially in a room full of his coworkers. Klaus was over in the corner voicing some objection about the silliness of having everyone in one place at the same time, Chrissie...

Lex just didn't care anymore. "Clark? Thanks."

Clark smiled. "What for?" he asked conscious of Winters looking at them.

"Coming? Being? I don't know." Lex couldn't help but look at Clark, saying with his eyes 'but you know why' as best as he could. Then he moved his other arm to loop back over Clark's shoulder, just savoring the warmth. "It's been a hell of a day."

There was no sign that Clark had got the message on any level. In fact if it weren't for the fact he was so sure, he would have been doubting his opinion. How could the man that was sitting next to him in a very mediocre suit, glasses on, with the gentle green eyes be the same man as the spandex clad hero that had bullets bouncing off of him, who could fly, and had eyes so blue and vivid that any gem would look insipid in comparison?

But he'd seen Clark's eyes that shade of blue before. And he'd seen Clark without glasses, in jeans and a jacket, he'd seen Clark at ease. It seemed so much more possible when Clark wasn't... seeming like he was going out of his way.

"Mr. Kent, we're going to be leaving soon, so perhaps you should leave."

Clark looked up. "I'd like to stay sir. Specifically with Lex, but with the unit in general. You did give me permission to shadow the team through the case."

"Shadow, not..." Winters paused for a moment, looking down at Clark and Lex. Lex made an effort to look as protective of Clark as he could, keeping in place nice and close to him. It didn't melt Winters' expression.

"Sir, like it or not, I am involved," Clark pressed. "I became part of this case when the lab blew up with me still in it. I'm Lex's witness for the harassment his father has been perpetrating. I was useful earlier, even you have to admit that."

"If my father's still out there," Lex added, "he's going to gun for Clark. He thinks Clark's the one motivating me to 'turn on' him." As if the years of abuse and cold, quiet prodding wasn't enough in and of itself.

"Lionel Luthor and I have history," Clark added.

Winters still didn't look happy about the prospect. "Kent, if I find that you're manipulating Lex, or do anything to him... I'll let the department loose on you and turn a blind eye."

He couldn't quite get angry, even if Clark was being vaguely threatened. Lex just sighed. "Fred, I think I'm a good judge of character."

"I'm just concerned, Lex. You've had a rough week." The older man focused on him. "And I've watched you suddenly in closer with this reporter than I've seen you get with anyone in nine years. It's... worrying."

"Kindred spirit. Neither of us knows what the hell we're doing," Lex explained simply. That probably didn't do much to soothe Winters' concern; Lex still felt a little bad about being flippant on the matter. "I'm... glad that you're concerned, though. I appreciate it, sir. Maybe... later you could give me the name of that therapist you mentioned."

That was enough to surprise Winters, and it adroitly redirected him. "Fine. Kent is in. Just watch your step, both of you." He glanced up as some noise and sighed. "Ed! Ash, couldn't you have stopped him before he came out of there?"

Ash looked up. "Does he look like he's sticking his tongue down my throat, sir?"

Lex smiled slyly as he ducked his head back down, forehead to forehead with Clark again. "Want to switch spots? This must be hell on your back."

"I'm fine," Clark replied smiling back. "I'm not the one who was abducted and then nearly electroshocked."

And he hadn't told Clark that. Not that Winters had to know that, since he and Lex had been over there for a while. But it made Lex smile a little more at what suddenly felt like an in-joke. "Yeah, well. Had worse happen. I *meant* to go grocery shopping, you know."

"Dangerous stuff grocery shopping," Clark agreed. "All those additives. Stick to organic, Lex, much less hazardous to your health."

"Sure, death by cow." Winters had lost interest in them for the moment -- but probably not concern, and was off to one side talking to an officer. "I sometimes like to pretend that my eggs haven't had shit scraped off of them."

"I told you, that's how you know they're fresh," Clark grinned at him. "You were good at collecting eggs. And you liked the eggs when you ate them."

"When they've been cooked, it's a lot easier to forget where they came from," Lex grimaced a little. Lara had been unfazed by the shit-covered eggs, of course, though Lex had suspected that had just been to show him up as the city-slicker that he was.

"All right, we're going to go now. We're doing a head count. Is everyone here?"

"Aside from Adam, yeah," Chloe said, emerging from her discussions with Theresa and Chrissie.

"Adam will join us once he's able. *If* we're still in the same situation. Any additions to the safe location are being picked up by the police now. So... let's get a move on." With a gesture of his hand, Winters turned, expected them all to follow.

The team limped, supported each other out of the waiting room and began the trek to transportation to their communal 'safe house'. Their 'protection' would hopefully last only long enough to get Lionel Luthor arrested. The only problem with that was that it was as yet still reliant on witnesses such as Lex. Unless they could find hard evidence to tie him to the others they had rounded up, then he would manage to get out of it somehow. They all knew that.

It was damned hard to find that sort of evidence when you were locked away for your own protection. It just needed to be confirmed. And maybe they wouldn't even need that sort of hassle. Lex didn't know. Lex was just glad to get someplace with a bed, and safe quiet. Sure, there were police there, but they were police that everyone on the team knew in one way or another.

"I have never seen anyone talk so quickly as you persuading Winters we could share," Clark said, grinning as they started trying to rearrange their rather small room in the safe house. "But with Chrissie's kids here he couldn't really say no."

He looked around. There was one bed and a couch. "Looks like the couch for me then."

Fast thinking. Well, it was share with Ash, Ed and Nigel, or... It was easier if Chrissie was with her kids, and Clark was with Lex. It was what they both wanted, anyway. A tiny little room with a radio, a sofa and a twin bed. Lex stood there for a while, looking at the bed and the couch before he shrugged. "It's not like it matters, Clark. Neither of us have a change of clothes. No one's going to get much sleep."

"You should," Clark insisted as he put down his laptop which he had managed to keep with him. "There's probably something here, somewhere. A robe if nothing else. There's a built in wardrobe and some drawers, there might be something there."

Something that wasn't a bomb. Lex moved to sit on the bed, hands resting on his knees. "I don't like to wear clothing that isn't mine."

Clark looked at him a moment and then nodded. "Okay. You could go naked. Or nearly naked." He blushed suddenly as if he realized what he had said. "Uh yeah. Um. I'll just take a look at the closet then."

The suggestion made Lex nervous where he wouldn't have been under better circumstances. Maybe the close brush with Edge had him twitch at a suggestion that would've made him laugh or take *action* a few days ago. 'He wanted to rape me' danced at the edge of Lex's mind, but what did it matter? It wasn't something new. It hadn't even happened. It was an almost, albeit an almost that he'd thought he'd been safe from. And he'd resigned himself to it, only to have it not happen at all. All it had taken was for Adam to be shot.

Lex got up to turn the radio on.

Some typical Metropolis techno blend came on and for a moment the pair of them ignored each other as the radio filled the silences. Clark seemed to realize he shouldn't have said anything. He was avoiding looking at Lex while he tried to work out what would be safe to do next even as he pilfered the rather nondescript robe from the closet.

Lex settled back on the sofa, watching Clark once he'd turned on the radio. Yeah. Who was he kidding? He'd never be able to talk about it, really talk about it. Not with a good therapist, not with anyone. It was years old and it... just didn't matter.

Clark was looking at the robe doubtfully. "I think I would be better off without this," he said finally and stood looking a little lost over the other side of the room. "Did I... I made you uncomfortable didn't I?"

"I made myself uncomfortable." Lex lifted his head to look over at Clark, and twitched a smile. It *was* his fault. He was messed up, and as messed up as Clark probably was, too, Clark didn't need that sort of shit. A guy who couldn't heal, couldn't talk about a damn thing. And after all, wasn't talking apparently the magical salve?

"No, it was a stupid thing to say after what you went through," Clark replied. "I should know better. Do you want me to stay over here or something?" It wasn't even a guilt trip, just a question of plain fact.

"No." Lex cocked his head a little, still watching Clark. "It's just been a long day. And I'm jumpy after what Edge... wanted to do." There. That was as close as what he'd wanted to say as he was going to get. The words had wanted to leap out, someway. He felt like he should explain, somehow. Make sure that people understood *his* view of things, except there just wasn't a time or a place or a forum for it. Or a point. It just would've sounded like an excuse or a pity party.

That was what therapy was supposed to help with, right? Letting out all of that pent up hurt. And since his therapist had been in his father's pay, it sort of made sense that all the hurt was still inside of him.

"I can imagine," Clark said and winced at his phrasing. "Or rather, I can't imagine what that must have been like for you."

He ventured a little closer and, seeing no obvious flinching, actually sat down with Lex again and felt a great deal better himself. "They told me what you were going to do. Chloe and Ash did. You were going to try and be a distraction for him. I... God, Lex."

"It wasn't like it was something I hadn't done before," Lex pointed out, straining for rationality in his words. "I thought we were all going to die. I figured that they needed more time, that *we* needed more time. I... I'd had a good life, Clark. I've tried. I didn't want anything to happen to them."

Clark had to swallow before replying as he was rendered nearly speechless by the simple quiet courage in those words. "If there's anyone who fits the definition of hero Lex, it's you," he said seriously. "I mean it. Even after everything, you're still willing to give every last thing, to face your fears to help others."

Lex looked down at his hands, his legs, because it was easier than looking at Clark. "Adam got shot for my stupid idea. He's a hero. I'm... just used to being a slut. There's... there's nothing heroic in doing what used to come naturally."

"No Lex. No, that's not true, you are not a slut." Clark put one arm around him carefully. "You were facing horrors, and you were willing to go on even knowing what lay there for you. Taking responsibility for saving others is *not* being a 'slut'. Do you really believe that? Believe that you're that way?"

Lex sat stiffly for a minute, then leaned into Clark a little. "I don't know anymore, Clark. I kept thinking... that it'd be okay if I did that. I've had some pretty good days recently, really good days, and... I don't know. Things like that don't last for me. But it does for other people, so why not try to make sure they get the chance?"

"That's not being a slut Lex, that's more like being a... sacrifice," Clark murmured to him. "Things can change for you, too."

"Yeah." Lex kept his eyes down, looking at his hands. "Thanksgiving was... really nice. Even with what Lois did. I kept thinking about that."

"You deserve to be happy, Lex. More than anyone else, you deserve it. You've taken every shitty thing life has thrown at you and turned it into its most positive outcome," Clark took his hand. "I think I respect you pretty much more than anyone I know for that."

He hadn't really expected the intrusion into his line of sight, or into his tactile senses. But he wasn't going to say no to it. All it took was a little shift of his fingers, hardly the motion required to stroke a note on a piano, and he clutched Clark's fingers loosely in turn. "That counts for a lot, Clark."

"The world has let you down, Lex, and all the time you've been doing your best for it." Clark kept his voice low and sincere. "You have nothing to feel ashamed of about yourself. Any shame you feel has been forced on you by others."

Lex just shifted his fingers again. "I just want all of this to wrap up. To be solved, put to court, and done with. I want to go back to pretending that nothing ever happened. Would you let me?"

Clark hesitated. "No, Lex, I don't think I can," he said. "As your friend and someone who cares about you, I want to help you get past this, rather than back away from it. But I won't force you to do anything."

It was funny how everyone seemed to know what was best for him. "I don't know how to get past it. I thought I was, but my therapist was fucking with my head. I really want to take my pills right now, but I don't even know if that's a good idea anymore." Not that he had them. All he had was an arm over his shoulders and a hand in his.

"Lex, you need someone you can trust. I don't think there's any magic solution to this," Clark said earnestly. "I wish there were, but I think it starts with you feeling that you're worthwhile."

"I used to. Until so... someone decided that my charity was a front, and until I had to identify pictures of myself in evidence. It, it's hard to explain, Clark. When your most agonizing, humiliating moments are being picked apart as evidence... I remember how it felt when those pictures were taken, and I remember every *fucking* time Dominic or Morgan made me look at them again. And... and now it's evidence. It's been analyzed, probably dusted for prints, who knows what else. Put in a bag and locked away like it's neat. Like it's over, when it isn't. I didn't want anyone to see me like that. I..."

"It's easier to cope with it as a secret, and try to be normal," Clark agreed. "All this -- it doesn't diminish what's happened to you, but people cope that way when they have to deal with it. Stand at a distance and try and make it make sense. You can't do that. You were living what they're only observing third hand. You don't have to pretend it didn't happen, Lex. I know you didn't want to be seen like that but... It wasn't your fault. Not any of it."

"I don't care that it wasn't my fault." He jerked in Clark's loose grasp, but it was hardly a motion to get away. It was an aborted something, a gesture that never made it past a twitch. "I didn't need people seeing me with... with a coke bottle stuck up my ass. Or getting fucked by t-three men." His voice broke, cracked. There. He'd said it, cold, stark words. It made it feel a little less like a pity trip. "I was just a kid. I'm still that kid, but I'm not anymore, and... I don't know what to do now."

"You let people help you, Lex." Clark pulled him a little closer. "It never should have happened to you. It never should have happened to anyone, but you didn't get a choice in deciding, either. It was cruel, it was monstrous... it was... I don't have the words to express how terrible what they did was. You were just a kid, and they robbed you of that. They betrayed a profound trust, and left you to cope with it alone. You don't have to be alone any more, though."

"I don't know how to let people help me," Lex cut back, a little defensively.

Clark smiled a little. "I noticed. I guess... I guess it boils down to whether you trust someone enough to be honest with them. To feel you can share those secrets locked away." He shrugged a little. "Easier said than done, I'm not particularly good at that myself."

"Yeah." Lex leaned in a little, then murmured, "Thanks for saving me earlier. I didn't want my brains fried out."

Clark went still. "What?"

'What'? Maybe he'd guessed wrong. Lex lifted his head a little, looking at Clark 's face in close profile. No. No, he wasn't wrong. "I said thanks."

"For what?" Clark asked very carefully as if he were tiptoeing around a sensitive issue.

For what? Lex looked at Clark for a minute more, then went back to looking at their hands. "Okay. Never mind. I can take a hint."

"No, seriously, I want to know," Clark asked, his voice having an unsettled quaver in it, which he tried to clear from his throat. If Lex didn't know any better he would have said that Clark sounded afraid.

And it didn't make any sense. If *anyone* should be afraid, it was him. And he wasn't, he trusted Clark. "Your eyes keep changing colors. One minute they're gemstone blue, then they're green again. I recognized you."

"...As?" Clark asked. It was as if he needed to hear the words said, in case he was thinking something totally different than what Lex was about the say. The warm hands touching him had gone a sudden shocked cold,
and Clark was tensed as if he was going to run.

"Superman." The cold and the way that Clark was trying to draw the answer out of Lex made him go tense, wary. Maybe he'd imagined it. It had been a long day, and he'd been overly hopeful. But he'd thought that Clark had acknowledged it when he'd first gotten to the hospital, with that touch, and then mentioning things Clark hadn't been told.

For a moment, it looked like Clark was going to deny it. To lie. He looked at Lex and fought an internal battle with years worth of conditioning. To be found out was tantamount to death, only... other people knew. And he'd survived that. And he really, really didn't want to lie to Lex. He couldn't explain why, no more than he could explain why he was following the man around like an eager puppy inside of a week, just desperate to be close to him.

He knew. He knew without being told, and that was the culmination of all Clark's hopes and fears tied up in one neat package. He feared it because of the danger and rejection, or that things would change, and he secretly hoped for it because he was a romantic idealist. The person who really knew him, loved him, would know *him* no matter who he was -- Clark Kent or Superman.

"Oh." Words momentarily failed him and he nearly stammered. "You... recognized me?"

Lex didn't know about Clark's internal struggle, so he just looked over at Clark again and then leaned into him more, squeezing his hand gently. "Yeah. Your eyes. And your heat."

"Jesus." Clark exhaled feeling shaky. "You're the first person who's ever guessed. Ever. Jesus Christ."

"You don't sound excited."

"I'm... scared, actually. Really scared."

Lex lowered his head again, still looking down but leaning into Clark like he was the only warm thing in the world. "Why? I won't tell."

Because...

Because -- uh...

"I don't even really know. I just don't know what to say. I guess I'm scared of being rejected or put out on a dissection table. Or that knowing might put you in danger, more danger, and might cause you stress, and..."

He was babbling and he knew it.

"Shhh." Lex twisted, moved to sit up straight and kiss Clark. It was something he wanted to do, something he could control. Up down up down -- the emotional roller coaster was something he wanted to get the hell off of, but he might as well make the best of it.

The night was full of surprises, and Clark had been about to launch forth with more reasons why knowing was a Bad Thing when Lex's lips touched him. Instantly, anything remotely resembling a concern vanished out of his head. Lex was kissing him! His response could have been hot and passionate but instead he guided his instincts to tender and gentle. There was a taste there, warm and sweet between them.

It didn't last too long. Lex pulled back with a sigh, and settled cheek to cheek with Clark, holding onto him as much as he was being held himself. "I like you. I think I might... love you. I don't know. I need more time."

"I'll wait forever for you," Clark breathed. "I... love you."

"I really don't wonder why Winters keeps looking at us like we're crazy," Lex laughed faintly, resting against Clark.

"Our dialogue needs improving," Clark said starting to smile, the impulse growing now that it had been acknowledged. "I can't believe it. You know, and I'm in love. I don't think I've been in love before."

"I, I know I haven't been. Or felt quite this... safe. It's hard to explain." But he felt like he could trust Clark, a deep in his gut, warm trust. It made it easy for him to stay where he was, leaning against Clark and contemplating what they should do next.

"Lex? Clark? Are you two all right in here?"

Chloe with her knack for timing. "Yeah, we're fine Chlo!" Clark called back, almost dizzy with the shock and relief of the pressure of keeping his secret around Lex.

"Yeah." Lex shifted, pulling back from Clark to get the door. Customarily, when someone knocked to see if you were okay, they wanted you to open the damn door, more than they wanted an 'uh-huh'. Yeah and uh-huh weren't very reassuring, so Lex opened the door and smiled at her. "The radio works."

"Better than my room. Theresa is trying to fix it." She looks around, giving Clark a speculative look at the comfortable way he was sprawled on the couch. "You guys got a bathroom ensuite? Nigel, Ed and Ash do -- I'm just hoping they don't all kill each other in there. Or at least someone should get Ash some ear plugs."

"What's wrong with your room that Theresa's trying to fix? Anything we can do to help?" He had to offer, and he wouldn't even mind if she took him up on it.

"Oh, just our radio," Chloe said smiling brightly and taking in the details. "No big deal. Just thought I would come see how you were all doing. Well, Winters thought it would be a good idea."

"Figures," Clark said glancing at Lex.

Lex's eyebrows went up a little. "Yeah. About Winters -- does he seem pissed off right now, or is it just me?"

Chloe perched on the end of the bed. "Stressed as Lana confronted with a dress code that doesn't allow pink to some important function." She smirked at Clark who nearly choked.

"Chloe!" He was half laughing though.

"Well, about time, Clark," Chloe said tilting her head at him. "I was beginning to wonder if the mush in your head had finally taken over so you couldn't appreciate humor. Lana was a girl he crushed on hopelessly for years, Lex. Before he doubled his chances as it were."

That was one way to describe bisexuality, and it made Lex grin a little. "Nothing wrong with taking opportunity where it knocks. Why don't you two play catchup while I find our supervisor?"

Clark looked at him. "You sure, Lex?"

And then he had to lean over and mock punch Chloe who was making exaggerated lovelorn eyes at Lex to wind him up. "Chloe, stop that."

"You are so gone, Kent." Chloe smirked at him.

"You'll be fine," Lex laughed a little, looking at them both for a moment before he turned to head down the narrow hallway. He'd been expecting some sort of gentle teasing after all the touching he'd done in the hospital, and it didn't actually bother him as much as he'd expected that it would.

Being normal was sort of okay.