The Memoirs

Whitney popped his neck as he unlocked the Sullivan's front door. He'd meant to go straight home to look for Chloe, but he'd stopped by the store instead, just to make sure things were going all right, and had ended up checking in and stocking the new supply of hardware items that had come in, and on top of that, had spent an hour and a half talking to Graham Senatori, about what kind of partnership they'd be going into.

He was tired, after all that, and he was seriously starting to ache from the fight. All he wanted to do was settle in to a hot soak for about an hour, but he shut the door firmly after himself. "Mr. Sullivan? Chloe?" he called out, dropping his book bag onto the couch and walking into the kitchen.

She was in the middle of a nightmare.

And that would be, literally.

Two cakes were in the oven, rising slowly but steadily. Chocolate cupcakes were half made, frosting covering them, candles and other birthday things on the kitchen table behind her. She was covered in flour, from head to toe, and she was busily singing loudly, and badly, to the Backstreet Boys. Damn shame they'd broken up, damn shame, but for that, N'Sync had broken up too. Which kind of made her sad. The boy band era was over, and she was strangely nostalgic as the easy rock station played her favorite song, and she just had to dance along with it. "Aaaasss looonnggg assssss yooouu looveeee meeeee!!!!!!!"

Whitney just followed the sound of howling as he came in, and leaned against the doorjamb. "Who's birthday is it?"

Chloe jumped, hard, and nearly dropped the entire gallon of milk as she looked back at him. "Whitney! ...I… hi." She shifted, almost in embarrassment, and lowered the music a little. She shoved the gallon of milk back into the fridge, and shifted, again. "Pete. Tomorrow. Shay and I are gonna throw a little party."

"Didn't mean to startle you, but I yelled when I came in and didn't hear anything so I started this way."

He was really, really glad that he'd changed shirts and jeans. At least he didn't LOOK like he'd been in a fight.

...except for all the bandages. Oh well. "I didn't know Pete's birthday was tomorrow."

Chloe blinked. Took a good, long look at him, and before, where she might have screamed and come running, she didn't. "Are... are you okay? What happened to you, Whitney?"

"Nothin' you need to worry about." He pushed up from the lean in the doorjamb and walked over, kissing the top of her head as he went to the sink to wash his hands and then roll up his sleeves. "Do I mix, pour, measure, or ice?"

Another blink. Some more staring. "I... uh. What?"

He blinked as he dried off his hands, and straddled one of stools by the island. "Do you want me to mix everything up, pour the batter into the cups, measure the ingredients for you to mix, or do I ice the cupcakes?"

Holy crap. He had to be possessed. "I... I mean, yes. I'd... yes. I mean... are you sure you're alright?" Another long look at him, because he hadn't been this amenable in almost two months, and she set the little cupcakes on the tray so he could ice them.

They were shaped like little baseballs and basketballs, and she set the coordinating colors of the icing she'd bought, as well as the picture, beside him.

"Oooh, baseball." Whitney situated himself with the tub of frosting, a knife, and the picture. "And yeah. I'm all right. I'm sure of it, actually." He grinned up at her then. "I'm not on drugs, I promise, and I haven't hit my head. I know who I am and everything."

He smiled. Holy crap, he HAD to be on some sort of crack. She looked at him, suspiciously, peering at him with an eyebrow raised.

Whitney held his hands out. "You can investigate."

She nodded, though she still looked at him oddly, and she went back to check on her slow poke cakes that would make a three tear sports cake she'd sound that she KNEW he'd have loved. It was baking, so, so slowly, and she sighed, softly, as she moved around the kitchen, still peering back at him once in a while.

And sadly, she had no idea how much her tummy was showing under her apron.

Whitney was quietly frosting the cupcakes, frosting them with vanilla first before using a toothpick to slide in the chocolate stitches. And he was watching her, and he just... smiled again, at the little tummy that was starting to show.

"So… uhm." She shifted her weight, back to him. "How did last night go, with Lex and Clark? Clark told me you guys had fun… did the manly grunting and pizza and beer thing." She said, and because it amused her, she smiled, shaking her head as she worked.

"Yeah, we did. We had a great time." Soft smile. "It was kind of what I needed. Get away from everything, just... hang out, get my head straight. Get it clear, you know?" The dark blue shirt he was wearing rippled when he got up off the stool, and he went over to her. "There's a couple of things I want to talk to you about, and I don't know where to start first."

She looked at him, a little warily, and just a glance as she went back to her cookies. She had cut them into shapes, too, because she was the pastry girl. Shayla was taking care of food and Clark was beverage boy, if he didn't forget of course. So she kept cutting, shifting and reaching for the frosting to decorate the cookies, without really looking at him. "What do you need to talk about?" Chloe glanced up again as she said it, looking into his eyes before back down and away.

"Well, the fact that you're going to have my baby, and the fact I'm thinking of moving in with Clark and Lex, in one of their guest rooms, until I find a place of my own."

Oh, fuck.

Chloe froze, looking down at the cookies for a long, long moment. He knew. He knew all along. How had he known? He couldn't have known. But he did, and he was looking at her waiting for her answer, and she almost didn't know what to tell him. Her fear, choking, paralyzing fear, that he'd reject her and their baby was screaming so loudly in her head she almost couldn't hear herself think. "I..."

"Am pregnant?" Soft smile. "Yeah, I kind of figured that one out." He slid in behind her, and stroked his fingertips gently over her swelling stomach. "That's kind of why I want to move out, cause your dad has got to be flipping his lid over this, and just too nice to say it. I want to look for a place where the three of us can live, at least to start out with."

Her throat tightened, and her eyes shined with tears, as he came behind her and touched her belly, and she was exactly .5 seconds from sobbing. She bit her lip, as tightly as she possibly could, and swallowed, hard. She didn't know what to say, because this hadn't been the Whitney of the past month, no, not the past two months to be exact. It was a new Whitney, and she was terrified he was furious and was just acting like this because he felt sorry for her. But she kept that all bottled inside, tightly as she could, and she just nodded, her throat squeezing like a vice.

"I'm hoping that I can get one of the new apartments, that Lex built? I'm hoping for one of those. They're simple, they're kinda cheap, but they're big enough that we've got room for the baby." He stroked her stomach again, and then sighed softly. "I beat Ted to a pulp this afternoon," he confessed. "That's why I didn't go home with you."

Alright. Well. "Why?" She asked, quietly, her voice tight and hot with unshed emotion as she carefully began to ice the cookies.

"Why did I beat him up?" Pause. "Because of what he said about you. I would have done more, I think, but Clark made me leave before I really hurt him. I could have."

There would have been a time when she would have done it herself. "You didn't... have to." But her throat was still too tight for more. He knew. About the baby. How long must he have known before he said anything? Who told him? How did he know, why was he so okay today? She didn't understand, didn't understand any of it, when a week ago he'd barely been able to look at her, wouldn't talk to her, nothing.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Nobody's going to get away with talking about you like that, okay? Not while I'm around. Not while I've got a brain left in my empty fuckin' head, okay?" He turned her around, to look at him. "Nobody's going to treat you like crap on my watch."

She could have said something, but she kept it to herself. "Okay." She answered softly, and she swallowed, hard, deeply, looking up at him with so much apology and grief and happiness in her eyes that if she'd known, she'd have kicked herself in the ass for.

He just smiled down at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "It's okay, Chloe." Little sigh, as he cocked his head just a little to look deeper in her eyes. "It's finally okay." Sunny little smile as he stroked her cheek.

She made a soft squeaking "hmm" sound like when she was about to cry and she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, pressing in as close as he'd let her as she held him, close. Trying not to cry, nonono, not cry, but she was shaking and she was going to faint and had she mentioned the whole crying thing?

"Ssssh." Whitney hugged her tightly, stroking her hair, rubbing his stubbled and bandaged cheek against her. "Don't cry, my baby girl, don't cry." He held her as close as he could get her, knowing she was going to lose her balance or something, because she was Chloe, and he was ready for it. "Come on, sit down... That's my girl."

She plunked down in a chair from the kitchen table and shuddered, hard, tugging him with her so he was in the chair beside her and she just… curled up, as close as she could, and sobbed. Hard, heavy cries because he knew they were going to have a baby and he wasn't upset about it, wasn't... wasn't mildly upset about it, and she just cried because he was back and she had fucked up so much, she'd been so wild, but having a baby put everything in perspective.

"Hey, now, don't cry. Your dad'll think I'm the reason." He grabbed a couple of paper towels from the counter, and handed them to her. "Here. Here we go. My girl." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I can't promise to be all better, Chloe, but I am mostly better. I won't be like that anymore, okay?"

Chloe felt like such an idiot, blubbering on this way, and she didn't know what to say to him, so she just nodded, rubbing her face clean with her tissues as she still hiccupped, crying softly and trying to stop. Trying, as hard as she could. "Okay." She answered softly, sniffling a little, breath hitching.

He rubbed her cheek again. "You want to come out with me Saturday? Look at a couple places, get an idea of the price and help me see what we need versus what I can afford?"

She nodded, swallowing and climbing back to her feet, her breath hitching softly as she turned back to the oven, to take the cakes out before they burned. She didn't know why she wasn't saying anything... it just wasn't the right time to babble, and for once, she was quiet, as she pulled the cakes out with a cow mitten, setting them on the cutting board to cool.

"You're... kinda starting to weird me out here, Chloe." Whitney leaned against the counter. "You... gonna say anything?"

She nodded, softly, still sniffling and rubbing her tears on her t-shirt, chin trembling a little as she fought her emotions, to get them under control. "I… don't want you to feel… like you ha-have to take care of me. If... you don't want to, if....its okay. I can take care of us, if.. if this... has made you feel y-you need to move on."

"Move on? Where the hell am I going to, when everything I care about's right here, standin' in front of me in this kitchen?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned. "Move out, yes, because father of your daughter's kid living under your roof? Not a good living situation, for you, me, or your pop. Other than that? Chloe... everything I'm doin', it's for us. You and me, cause I want this. I want you, I want the baby, I want the family. Clark's right, I can't let myself stop wantin' these things, just because I was sad. I have to keep my own dreams, and that's you."

Her chin trembled, hard, and she looked like she might break again as she tried to keep a hold on her burning throat. Alright. So he wanted her. And the baby. And... "A-are you upset? That I... I di-didn't… didn't tell you?"

"That depends if you're upset with me for not tellin' you earlier that I knew."

Chloe shook her head, hard, pressing the tissue to her nose to rub the itchies from it as she sniffled and tried to keep from sobbing. Which of course was a losing battle. "N-no. Not upset, no. I wish… you'd told me. Do you… do you want this baby?"

Little grin. "Oh yeah. In case I haven't made it totally clear? Hell yes, and definitely, and a side of Yeah, baby, yeah."

She swallowed, hard, and something in her heart finally calmed. Finally, after a month and a half of being tense and sad. Alright. Okay. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. Ma'am Yes Ma'am. Affirmative." He thought for a sec. "10-4. Aye. Yea."

Alright. Alright. She nodded, softly, and didn't know if he even wanted her hand. She had tears in her eyes when she looked up, and whispered softly, "Marry me?"

He blinked. Had to. "What? Did you just ask me?" He couldn't help it. He slid down from leaning to his knees. "Did you just... yes!!! The answer is yes, God, yes."

She burst into tears, but she was laughing at the same time, as she sank down to her knees in front of him. Her blue eyes were masked with shining tears, trailing her cheeks, but she was smiling and he was saying yes and she launched her arms around him, toppling them both onto the linoleum to hug, tightly, tightly as she could.

Whitney hugged her tightly, carefully, cushioning her body with his as they hit the linoleum. "I can't believe you beat me to the punch!" he said softly, pressing his face into her throat. "You did. You beat me to it, you did, I said yes. I'm going to marry you, Chloe Sullivan."

"I love you." She whispered, softly into his neck. They hadn't said it to one another in weeks and she just squeezed him, tightly, unbelieving she'd proposed but it had most definitely been the right thing to do. She was spilling tears like a drippy faucet but she didn't care, sniffling and rubbing her cheek into his shoulder, her body hitching with her soft breaths. "Please, promise me, promise you're okay, if not, please, you have to tell me, you have to."

"I love you. I love you so much, Chloe." He hugged her again. "I'm okay. Mostly okay. I'll... I'll still have crying jags, I know, and I'll still have rough spots, but I'm okay. Clark, and Lex, they kicked my butt last night, made me realize how much of my life I've been missin' out on, and I won't miss out on a second of it more with you."

"I... I don't... I..." She was still crying but yeah, she had to stop, and her breath hitched as she fought for breath. "I'm... I'm okay, definitely... definitely okay, I'm sorry, I just... come on. Come on, we have to make cookies. Tell me what happened, tell me everything. Just talk to me, okay?"

Whitney pushed himself to his feet, and held his hands out to pull Chloe up to her feet next. "We can make cookies and cupcakes, okay." He kissed her cheek, her throat, and hugged her again. "Okay." He didn't want to let go of her but he did, and hoisted himself back up on the barstool where he'd been working on the cupcakes before. "You see, it happened that last night... wow. I was down in it. As I'd ever been. And Lex and Clark were sitting there, watching Shrek, and they're talking about King Midgetboy and they're laughing, and they're tickling, and they're making love, and it just... it hurt. You know? It hurt, to think that I was supposed to still mourning but see life going on around and wanting to join in. It hurt, cause I thought I was being disrespectful to Mom, and I'm NOT. Clark and Lex... they made me see that the only way I could disrespect Mom, is if I stopped living my life. Cause that's what she wanted, the best life in the world for me. So, when I woke up this morning... I just decided. I was going to live again. Because I didn't want to miss out on anything more."

She listened, very quietly, to what he was saying. He spoke, and his voice, the rich, lovely honey sound of it, infiltrated her ears, even as she took the cookies to the little stool in front of him and set them down, to do them with him because she was fucking sick and tired of being alone.

The stuff on Clark and Lex made her want to kiss them. Geniuses. They'd known just what to do, and she felt such a hard, swelling love her sha'nauch that she couldn't speak for a moment, just listening to him speak in that beautiful way he had. "It took Shrek and sex to get you to understand?"

Whitney hooked her stool with his ankle and hauled it in close. "Yeah. Yeah, that's pretty much what it took. Shrek, Sex, and Samson."

"That's quite the combination." She answered, softly, and let him scoot her close to him. Close, to where he smelled good, where he wasn't looking like he was about to die anymore, where he looked like her Whitney, where their baby sat between them, in her belly, growing each day and she took his hand, for a moment, and set it on her tummy. "I found out, last week, what the baby is."

He clapped his hands over his ears. "Don't wanna know!!" He screwed his eyes shut, then peeked out at her. "Do I? X or Y chromosome?" Pause. "No! Don't tell me!"

She grinned, for the first time in a long time, and picked up a cookie again to frost. "It's going to be hard to not know when you see the stuff I pre-ordered."

"I'll close my eyes when I sign for the packages!!" He cracked his eye open. "Seriously? You know?"

"Seriously, I know." Chloe smiled back at him, and she just wanted to squeeze him and hold him tight and hug him and kiss him because he was hers again. How? She didn't know, and she sure as hell wasn't asking.

Other eye cracked open. "Okay. I'm dying. I gotta know. Am I going to be seeing pre-natal winkies on the sonograms?"

She smiled, softly, and looked at him for a long moment. She climbed to her feet, wiping her hands on her apron, and opened the cabinet where all the nice glassware was, taking down a white envelope from atop them. "I'm three months along." Chloe said it, quietly, and slid the sonograms out so he could see them. "Look. See? A little foot." She grinned. "The doctor thought it was hysterical. A strong heart, too. Beats like a rabbit."

Whitney grabbed the sonograms and just beamed as he looked at them. "Wow. Three months." He rubbed his fingertips over where the head was forming. "Hey there, little Fordman," he said softly. "Don't you look pretty."

Only a father could think a sonogram was pretty.

"That little foot... my boy's gonna be a great placekicker with that foot. Or my little girl's gonna be a hell of a dancer with that foot."

"We're going to have to buy him a whole little football outfit, aren't we?" A mock sigh, as she watched him out of the corner of her eye, her heart squeezing with joy as he looked at the pictures. You better teach him that the Raiders suck ass, Whitney Fordman."

"It is a he?" He just beamed. "Yes, yes, we are. Metropolis Sharks all the way. You hear that, Baby Fordman? Raiders Suck and Sharks Rule." He didn't take his eyes off the picture. "I'm going to buy you a baseball glove, kid. And you and me are gonna play football and basketball and baseball and anything else you want, except golf, which your uncle Moneybags will teach you cause I hate the fuckin' game."

Chloe felt, for the first time, with him looking at the pictures like the way he was, strangely in her niche. Like this was where she was supposed to be, and it fit and it worked and she could have run around the house screaming and crying and singing. And probably would, after Whitney left to go do something. "And gymnastics, and writing, and the cello." Chloe added, her lips quirking.

"Nah, not the cello. Guitar, baby. Guitar, all the way."

She grinned, again, softly, looking down at her cookies. "You can usually tell sex at about... eighteen, nineteen weeks, but my OB, Dr. Billy, told me that she's nearly sure its a boy. About eighty percent sure, anyway."

"I don't care," he said suddenly. "Boy, girl, hermaphrodite, twins. Whatever."

"Clark told me he can feel him growing." She answered him, softly, and looked up at him to smile. "He said he can feel him growing, feel him beginning life."

Whitney just grinned. "We're gonna need a huge nursery for the kid. Cause we're gonna give him so much."

"Of course." She grinned, and her cheeks flushed softly. "He looks kind of like a lopsided worm right now, but Dr. Billy told me another two months and he'll have hands and feet and he'll be moving around. I can't... can't wait." She blushed. "And... I already bought the furniture. Or, rather, Lex bought the furniture for me. He agreed to help, all he can."

Little angry rumblin' in the back of his head. "He better be careful, cause if someone thinks that's his baby, they're going to get punched in the fuckin' face."

She tipped her head. "He helped me, Whitney. He helped me, when no one else was there to help me." A gentle reminder to him, even if she said it softly. "He helped me buy clothes for myself, and car seats and stuff, and helped me order the bedroom set I wanted."

"I know, Chloe." Whitney stroked her hand to calm her down. "I'm sorry I wasn't... here. Before. But that's my baby, you know, and I don't want anybody doubtin' that."

"Nobody does. Its yours. I just think...Lex....he wishes he could have done it for Clark. I think there's a part of him that has guilt over it, because he couldn't. It makes him sad, I can feel it."

"Yeah. I know. I understand that. And I don't mind it; this has gotta be kind of painful for him, you know? Everybody... everybody's havin' what he lost." Quiet little sigh. "I don't begrudge him helpin', at all. I'm glad he is, cause I'm more than a little lost and over excited and ten other things right now."

"Clark can't." Chloe answered, softly, and she shook her head a little. "I know it already. He can't go, he can't be faced with it." But she smiled then, tenderly, at her lover, and gently touched his hand for a second. "Cupcakes. We gotta bring these over to Shay's tonight so Ms. Bird can refrigerate it."

"Right, and we gotta frost 'em before them." Whitney leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Frosting machine, right here. Got my technique down and everything."

"Frost away. My baby's turning eighteen. Can you believe it? He's so old." And she grinned at him, a little crookedly. "Since you're still relatively new to our group, I'll tell you Pete was held back in the third grade, because his mom was doing her presidential campaigned. So he's about a year before all of us. Should be graduating this year, but instead, next year. Lucky bastard."

"Always wondered about that," Whitney said thoughtfully. "Knew he wasn't quite young as you all." He reached out with the frosting knife, and smeared her nose before casually going back to work. "Figured he had to repeat, just didn't know why."

Her eyes widened, considerably, and she snorted. The frosting rubbed off on her palm, which she licked cause mmm, and she rubbed the rest of it on her apron as she finished frosting the cookies. She added sprinkles to them and set them attractively on a plate. "There. And yeah, he's a little older than us. So's Clark, for that matter, but that's still new news."

"And very sensitive new news it is too. I figure? Let sleeping Clarks lie and don't even fuck with it. He's seventeen and will be until he's eighteen."

"That's what I say. I think with him even knowing, he'll still be himself, which is just what he has to be." She looked, then, at the cake she still had to frost, at the hour...seven fifteen, and almost whimpered. She was so tired. Crap. She sighed and began to cut around the metal of the cake tins, getting the big plate ready.

"Here, let me do that. I watched Mom flip cakes before. You frost cupcakes. I'll flip the cake out." Whitney tugged the knife and the pan away. "Tip? Next time, don't use the cookin' spray. Use good old-fashioned Crisco lard. And then sprinkle it with flour, and it flips the cakes out easy as pie."

She yawned softly and rose a brow, rubbing her tummy a little. "Whitney, you may just become cake guy from now on. I hate baking. But Shay can't cook for beans, so she's having Ms. Bird help her, and I had to do something. You know, we should go into town for supper." She said the last part out of the blue, thinking for a moment. "Maybe Derchi's?"

Whitney just grinned. "I can be cake boy. Mom taught me." He flipped all three cakes out on racks to cool. "Tell you what. Leave a note for your dad, telling him where we've gone and not to mess with the cakes. I'll take you out to dinner, maybe for dessert at the new Dairy Queen, and then we'll come home, YOU will put your feet up and supervise me putting the cake together."

"Maybe... we can finish the cake, go out and eat, and then you'll come and sleep in my bed with me." Chloe answered, softly, her eyes gentle as she gazed at him. Her fingertips came out to stroke a lock of blond hair from his eyes, and Christ, had she mentioned she loved him? "I love you."

"This is me, really likin' that plan." Whitney brought the three cake racks over to their workspace, and scrunched the cupcakes carefully down to the end. "I've got like, three more cupcakes and they're done." Sweet grin. "You sure your dad won't flip out if he catches me in your room?"

"Whitney, I'm having your baby. I seriously don't think we can go any further." Chloe answered with a little snicker, as she picked up the cupcakes that were left and quickly, efficiently, covered them and sprinkled them. "Give me about ten minutes to go change, okay?"

"Yeah, you're right. Don't think there's anything else we can do." He snagged her around the waist again, and tugged her against his chest. "Take all the time you need. I'm going to finish frosting, and then I'll tell you about the fight on the way to the restaurant."

"Got it." She reached up to press her lips against his, softly, shyly, and then smiled and hugged him tenderly. She let go, with a final squeeze, and made her way out of the kitchen in the early dusk. The sun had set, the sky was lit with blue's and oranges and reds, and she looked out the living room window as she trooped through the hall to the steps.

And really, truly, she hadn't meant to lie down. She didn't. But her bed had beckoned her, and she only lay across it for a moment, but a moment turned into ten minutes, and she fell deeply, completely, asleep.

Whitney whistled as he finished the cakes, icing all three layers as they sat on their cooling racks, and then he looked up. Chloe'd been gone for nearly twenty minutes, and she'd only asked for ten. "Chloe?" he called out, climbing up the stairs to the bedrooms. He peeked in her door, and had to grin.

She was dead. Asleep. Dead to the world, and he chuckled softly, walking into the room and turning her around so that she lay completely on the bed, head on the pillows and feet at the bottom, and then hunted around the floor until he came up with her comforter, and spread that over her, and then, he toed off his shoes and climbed into the bed behind her, tucking one arm high around her waist, and pulling her close.

She barely even stirred. She felt someone moving her, and she herself had pulled off her apron, shoes, socks and pants when she'd come up, but ohhh she was so cozy. T-shirt, Whitney, cozy bed goodness, and she snuggled back against him as he held her. "Mmm." She muttered, quietly, softly, shifting on her fluffy pillow an d tugging it, and him, closer.

Whitney just sighed softly, stroking her hair. "That's right, baby. Go on to sleep. I'm going to stay here with you." He let her snuggle in as close as she could get before bringing his arms down and around her to pull her even tighter. "There we go. There's my girl."

"Mis'ed you." She whispered groggily into the dark. "Mis'ed you." Her hand came to his, sleepily, and dragged it to her tummy, where their baby was growing and living inside of her, and the three of them, the three of them, were a unit.

And she wanted to cry, and scream, but that was for tomorrow, because right now she wanted to sleep.

"I missed you too, baby." Whitney leaned over and kissed her ear softly, and let his hand rest on her stomach, where the baby was growing. "And I love you, baby Fordman." Little squeeze, and he left his hand laying there comfortably, stroking gently as he cradled Chloe close.

- = - = -

Their was music playing. The soft strands of Kissing You were coming from a radio at the corner of the room, but Clark barely paid any attention to it, as he sat comfortably on the floor. A large, warm blanket with many pillows had been spread out in their bedroom. The puppies were being dog sitted by Shay and Pete in the gym downstairs, and the door was locked. Candles flickered, all around them, at least a hundred Clark had taken great joy in lighting, and he'd only missed once.

Handy dandy ice breath.

He was naked, completely so, and sat with his legs Indian style, his arms resting on each knee. His lover, in a similar state, was before them, and their environment, dark but for the candles and the soft rain pounding down outside of their window, gave the perfect setting for what they were about to do. They were eating a little bit of peppermint ice cream, both of them, because peppermint was a strong thought inducer, putting all the senses sharply in tune, and he smiled, softly, as he leaned over to lick a little of it off of his lovers lip.

"I feel like I should be assuming the lotus position any second now," Lex grumped, sitting with his legs crossed under him as he pushed the bowl of ice cream away. "Next time we're using mint incense and that's it." The sticky-sweet taste lingered on his tongue, but it was a sharp bite that made him aware of everything. He returned the minty kiss to his lover's mouth, and sighed. "Okay. I'm naked, and I'm meditating. I'm all but chanting OMMMMM."

Little grin as Lex put his hands on his knees, palms up. "Where do you want to start?"

He snickered, softly, rolling his eyes as he slid in a little closer. The purple candle, Lex's favorite color, was lit easily with a single blink of his eye, and he set the tall candle between them, touching his lovers fingers for a moment because they needed the contact, and he nodded. "I'm ready."

Lex closed his fingers around Clark's, linking their hands together, then closed his eyes. Deep breath, a twist to something in his consciousness, and the link they shared flowed, grew, brightened, intensified.

Sharp intake of breath, hissing as it opened, and he tightened his grip on Clark's fingers.

"Mmm. Very good." He whispered quietly, as the music flowed in their ears, repetitive and strong. It became background music, then almost nothing at all, as he watched his lover, like an infant, tenderly showing him which ways his powers were supposed to flow, and how to control them. "So good. Show me, Lex." He opened his eyes, keeping the link tightly so that he could finally let go of his lovers hands. They were connected, like steel posts to one another, and he could sit back a little bit, to take the objects he'd set aside. A cup of water, a box of blocks, a book, among other things.

Lex slowly opened his eyes, feeling the connection. "All right. I'll show you." He held out his hand, and divided his concentration, half on maintaining the link at it's current super-sized state, and the other half on the box of blocks.

Slowly, with jerky, unstable motions, three of the blocks rose out of the box, and dropped into an uneven pyramid at the bottom of the box. Lex's face was screwed up in concentration as he tried. "Ex--external stuff first," he said softly.

"Yes." He said it, softly, smiling as he watched. Through his lover he could feel the concentration it took, and though this was just one aspect of his lovers powers, it was the strongest and most vital and important. Clark took some of the stress from his lover to keep the link up, so he could concentrate more on what he was doing, and he set the box lid aside. "Can you lift the box, Lex?"

"My Yoda," Lex said affectionately, and switched his concentration from blocks to box. It rocked back and forth several times, before dipping forward unevenly and spilling some of the blocks out and then rising. "Shit... sorry." He increased his concentration, nails digging into his leg without realizing it, and the box righted itself, hovering only a few inches off the ground.

Clark grinned, softly, and touched his lovers hand to give him more strength, watching as the box came up. "Good... that's so good. Put it down... see if you can do the cup of water. Don't let any fall out, okay? I want you to feel the water, feel the molecules moving inside of it, feel the glass itself, and stop the motion so you can lift it. Okay?"

Lex let the box fall, and looked at the glass. "This... is easy. Surface... surface tension... does the work for me." He paused, and envisioned a new technique. A hand, reaching out, wrapping around the glass. An extension of his arm, fingers wrapping around the smooth, cool surface, and then flipping it, with just a thought to bolster the tension already across the surface of the water.

The glass rose jerkily into the air, but flipped over smoothly, without spilling.

Clark smiled, elated, and reached out, taking the glass easily in hand. "Lex, that was wonderful. You've done so well... you're doing so well. What...do you think, about... trying out a test subject?"

If Clark hadn't been holding the glass, it'd have crashed. "Test... test subject?"

"Test subject. You've gone above and beyond, Lex. Your mind.." Clark shook his head, and gently kept the link going strong, an almost visible thing, smiling at him as he rose to his feet and with a touch of his aushna's hand, closed it carefully. "A test subject. A guinea pig, if you will. Because this was the last of it, the last of what I can teach you... now its up to you. What do you think?"

"I think you're off your nut, but I'm easy." He pulled himself up to his feet. "I don't know... I don't know if I can do anything else. I'm going to keep practicing, but things are so much easier inside my head."

"You can go into other peoples mind, Lex." Clark reminded, quietly, smiling at him as he handed over a pair of pajama pants. "You can take people to the secret rooms. You can read minds...you can levitate and move things, which, by the way, is handy as hell. Lex… all you need is practice, baby."

Lex accepted the pajama pants with ease, and pulled them on over long legs and lanky hips. "Can't... we just start with you?"

"No, because I meet your abilities naturally." He shook his head. "Can't be your dad, either, it might awaken his, and he's older than you, Lex. He might not be able to control it. Our sha'nauch are out of the question, too."

Deep deep sigh. "Who does that leave?"

"Pete. Shay. Enrique. Your step dad. Ms. Bird." Clark ticked the names off, thinking for a moment.

"Dominic," Lex said quietly after a moment.

"You think?" Clark let his aushna go for a moment to tug his own pants on, and gave a hard, long breath across the room so all the candles winked out. He flipped a small bedside lamp on, instead, and the scent of candle wax was lovely in the air. "There we go. Are you sure, Lex?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. I think... I think Dominic would be the one to help with. I know... I know most of what he doesn't want anyone else to know, and... I don't feel like it's intruding so much."

"Okay." Clark nodded carefully and took his lovers hand. "Lead the way, baby."

Lex shook his head. "No. Let's try this." Lex looked around the room, and picked up the last thing he had around that he knew Dominic had touched--a page of stock reports, and concentrated on Dominic's little thread in his head. Dominic? Come over to my bedroom, please? I need to talk to you.

He was engrossed. Who wouldn't be, after all? He was cuddled up in his favorite arm chair in the library, with blanket, pillow, glasses, cookies and milk, and he was reading. A book. That he really was in no way going to say he liked, because thirty five year old men didn't read Harry Potter. And yet. The fourth installment, which had been sitting unopened on the shelf for months because he'd just been too busy, but tonight was perfect. His lover was surfing the net beside him, engrossed in whatever he was reading, and he was snuggled down with his book happily.

Until something distinctly odd happened.

He heard Lex's voice.

He glanced up, peered at the closed door, and made a noise. Fuck. Calling from somewhere, he didn't know where, dammit!!! He set the book down, got out of the cozy cuddle of blankets, sighed, and leaned over to give his lovers cheek a kiss. "Be back love."

Lionel barely looked up from his screen. "Quite all right; do take your time."

Lex gave a gentle little smile to Clark. "It's working." He tightened his grip on the paper. Dominic! Can I see you in the bedroom please, dammit!!!!

"I'll be right there!" He called out the door as he opened it, padding in socks and pajamas. Or, well, Lionel's long pajama pants and a green t-shirt. He rubbed his belly and crossed the hall, going further down and knocking lightly on their door. "The blazes do you want?"

Clark grinned. Just... he grinned. Broadly. He'd heard his lover, because of their link, and he rubbed his head softly, tenderly, over the lump as he opened the door for Dominic. "Hi."

Lex was just beaming. Ear to ear. "Dom? Got a question for you. Would you consider helping me out with something?"

His eyebrow came up, and he looked at Clark, then to Lex. Uht oh. "You know, nothing ever good came from those words. However... you are, quite unfortunately, my step son, and yes, I'll help you."

"Good." Lex sat back down on the floor. "Have a seat, and this won't hurt a bit." Wolfish grin.

Oooohcrap. His eyebrow spiked up high at Lex's little grin and he watched as Clark closed the door behind him. Meep. He straightened his back though, cause he was a Senatori, and settled himself on the floor across from him. He took in the blankets and pillows, took in the candles, and did he mention meep? "Well, alright. What is it you both have been doing?"

Lex flicked his eyes up at Clark, and then held his hand out. One of the pillows floated over to Dominic, wobbling slightly in the air before plunking carefully at his feet. "Would you like to make yourself comfortable?"

"Whoa. Alright, Lex." Clark quickly thudded down to his knees when Dominic went white as a sheet. "That's enough of that. Show off."

The pillow... it..."Holy shit. What the bloody hell did you... how..?..."

"Dom, sit down. Please." Lex frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. But this is what I need your help with. I... I can do things. Things like Clark, only different. They're special things, I can do with my head. And Clark's too connected to me, and I'm afraid that if I try it with Dad, it'll wake something up in him he can't control. You... you're really the only person I trust to help me with this." Hard as hell admission to make.

"Alright." Dominic sat down before his step son, crossed his legs Indian style, imitating Lex, and though a billion questions were running through his head, as well as some well placed fear, he accepted it. If Lex needed help, and Dominic could, well alright. "What... uh. Kind of things?"

Clark sat down beside them, so Dominic was on his left and Lex on his right, and he began to light the candles that went around them in a circle again.

"You... you didn't hear me calling you earlier. I was... sort of yelling in your head," he confessed sheepishly.

He glared, then. "I'm taking this in stride, Lex. Later, I'll flip out. For now, don't be a rude boy any more and yell about in my brains, you scared me. I was in the middle of a fantastically slashy scene and suddenly, 'DOMINIC!' and I lost my thoughts."

"I bet I can help you find them." Another sheepish smile. "I... I don't want to poke too far into your head. See things I shouldn't see. But... I know. And if you don't want to have me... you know, in your head, that's fine. I understand, totally."

"Naah." Dominic waved a hand. "I don't really mind. I haven't much floating about in there, anyway. Just stay away from my Lionel and sex memories, alright? I don't want you to have to burn your eyes out or something." He smiled, but yes, of course, nervous as hell. "It won't… hurt or anything, right?"

"It shouldn't. It hasn't hurt Clark, but... he's Clark. But, did it hurt when I was calling you?" Concerned blink.

"No. You just startled me." He nodded, and shifted. "Well alright, come on and lets get on with it, Harry and Draco are waiting for me."

"Ah, to hell with Harry. Get Draco and Lucius together and then we're talkin'." Lex rubbed his hands together. "Okay. I'm going to start with something simple. You... you think of something, and I'm going to see if I can see what you're thinking of. I think that's a good place to start."

"Alright." Dominic shifted again, getting comfortable... and in his mind's eye, he saw the old, worn copy of his fathers bible in his mind, sitting in the drawer beside Dominic's bed, with the book mark still on the page his father had it on when he died.

Lex closed his eyes, and held his hands out, about an inch over Dominic's. "A book. Black cover... written on in gold. It's old... velvet bookmarker." His face squinched up in concentration. "A Bible."

Holy shit. "Y… yes." Holy shit. "Yes. Its my father's bible. Ca… can you see where it is?"

More concentration. "Dark. It's somewhere dark, dark all around it."

He swallowed, and nodded. "Yes. A drawer. By my bed. Holy Christ, Lex." Dominic just...stared at him, in amazement. "How can you fucking do that?"

Lex shook his head. "No idea, Dom. I just... I know I can. I was sitting in Gotham City, talking to Clark on the phone and he was straining, with the link and everything, and it just... it burst out of my head. And all of a sudden, I had this ability."

"Well, that's frightening. You were having sex, weren't you?" Dominic chided it, even if he was serious. "What is it else that you need me for?"

"Emotions." Clark piped up, finally, and offered a quiet smile at Dominic. "Emotions. A list of them. When I say it, you think of something, and we'll see how well honed Lex's skill is with that. It isn't a hundred percent yet, and we need to see how much more work he has to do."

Lex nodded. "And we'll need to experiment with distance, too... like, how far away can I be from you and still be able to talk to you."

"Cool. I'm game." Dominic grinned sideways and wriggled his brows. "Start away, Clark."

"Okay." Clark smiled, at the obvious exuberance coming from the both of them. "What I'll do is say a word, and you think of an occasion, a moment in time, something someone said to you, whatever, and Lex will guess it. Okay?"

"Okay." Dominic rubbed his hands and switched legs, getting a little more comfortable.

"Happiness.'"

The first thing that came to mind was Lionel's face. Seeing him grin, or laugh, or roll around in his head. The good times they'd had together, the fun they'd had, and surprisingly enough, the night after the big fight they had. He had snippets of memory in his head, from going to the store to shooting pool together, and he felt such a warming, hot joy in his belly because of it.

Lex scrunched his face up in concentration. "Dad... playing pool? In... jeans? What the fuck?" His eyes blinked open, then shut again as he reached back into Dominic's head a little more, trying to twist the image around. "Dad... is shopping." Another blink of disbelief.

His lips spread, and curved, eyes still closed. "He was hot as hell in those boots." he answered back, snickering wickedly.

"What do you feel from the emotion, Lex?" Clark asked softly, his fingertips gently stroking his lovers knee for more strength.

"Bite me, Dominic." Lex put his hand on Clark's, squeezing gently. "I feel... warm. In the pit of my stomach, like when you kiss me. My toes want to curl, and there's... there's kind of a glow around everything."

Clark grinned. Yeah. Could he help it? No. He felt Dominic grinning too, and he glanced over at the man, who still had his eyes closed, and chuckled softly. "Yeah, Lex. I do too... that's what I felt. Good, that's... yes. You did good. You ready to let the memory go, and go on?"

"No, actually. I want to know how in the hell Dom got Dad into jeans."

Dominic opened his eyes and gave a winning smile, full of dimples, as Clark cracked up. "Are you joking? I've your father wrapped about my little finger. All I had to do was give him the puppy eyes, and he did it. Plus, we were alone and would be only to see Elaine. Doesn't he look smashing? So hip, with his sunglasses and his turtleneck. Your father is a bit more into it than he'd like to admit, I should wager."

Lex snorted, his eyes opening slowly. "Dad's always been conscious of his appearance, and I think he's where I got it from. He would kill me if I ever went out not looking my sharpest, and fuck me if he can't pull off a pair of Levi's better than I can--he's got the legs and the hips for it, and please dear fucking God shoot me now!!!!" He glared at Dominic.

Dominic just grinned. Broadly. "He's hot. I know you can finally admit it. There's a reason he's been hottest man seven years running, love."

"Alright, alright. Come on, Dominic, you're going to kill my aushna'." Clark grinned it at him, and let his big, expressive eyes flicker over to his lover. "Alright, come on. Lets see.. how about, anger?"

"Anger. Hmm." A thousand images went by in his head as he searched for the one truly angry moment of his life, and he came on the fourth night he was raped. He couldn't help it, it was the last thing he wanted Lex to see, but he was so angry at God. He'd never felt more angry in his life, more furious in his entire life, because for twenty two fucking years he'd prayed and worshipped and given his soul to his Savior, and all Dominic had gotten in return was a misery so sharp, so agonizing, a pain so deep that he asked God, after everything He had let happen to him, to let him die.

Lex cried out softly as the anger and the hate cut straight through his soul. He slammed down on it instantly, because he could feel his fingers curling into claws and digging into his knees, and instead raised his hands to the sides of his head, keening softly and rocking back and forth.

Horrible onslaught of images, all of them tinted red by blood, and Lex whimpered.

Dominic echoed him, softly, and before he could stop himself he reached forward and wrapped his arms around him. He stopped it, closed it off and locked it away, and he winced softly as he held Lex close in his arms. "Shh. Shh. I'm sorry, Lex, shh, don't... lad, shhh, I'm so sorry. Come here, come on, I'm sorry." Christ, fucking Jesus, and he hugged him, close to his heart, wincing at Clark's huge eyes over his head. "I think I broke him."

Clark winced, softly. Lex had cut him off before he could feel any of it, and he gently wrapped his arms around his lover, and coincidently, around Dominic, trying to get his lover to stop shaking and rocking. "Lex, Lex. Kenep, aushna', stop, come on. Let me help, aushna', shh."

Lex shuddered gently in the tangle of arms that held him close. They wrapped around Dominic's waist without realizing it, and he tamped down hard on the shuddering that came though. "You didn't break me," he croaked out. He was petting Dominic's back gently. "It was horrible. There... there was no hope."

"There was no hope." Dominic echoed, softly, as he rubbed his fingers over Lex's bare head and gently held him, looking up to catch the look of understanding...and hope...in Clark's eyes. Dominic gently pressed his lips to Lex's forehead and held him close, there, with their backs against the mattress of their bed. "There was no hope, no salvation, no nothing. I hated God. With everything inside of me. All I could think, mindless with pain, was why He was making me endure what I was enduring. Only later, much later, did I realize that it gave me the strength, and the wisdom, to face everything in my life, and stand up to it."

Lex nodded his head. "I could feel it. I could see it happening like I was there." Lex put his head in his hand. "That's... that's very interesting."

Dominic crooked an eyebrow, and his grin, down at him. "You alright now? I'm sorry to have ambushed you. Come now. Lets continue, if you're alright."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm all right." Lex reached out for the bottle of water that was sitting on the dresser and it leapt into his grip across the six inches that separated him from the dresser.

Lex opened it without noticing.

For Dominic, though, the blood had kinda rushed a little out of his face again, and he swallowed and sat back, shaking his head and rubbing his face. "Never getting used to that."

Tell me, aushna'. Are you alright? "Alright, lets see. Hold on," He marked off on his little paper, taking Lex's bottle when he was done with it and taking a drink himself.

Yeah. Yeah. I'm all right. Just... a little freaked out. Another thought slipped directly into Dominic's mind. Are you all right, Dominic?

God, that was weird. "Not particularly. Yourself?"

Lex grinned. "I'm all right. Do you feel like moving on?"

Dominic grinned back, gave a wink, and nodded. "Sure. What next, Clark?"

Clark was humming for a moment, his fingers gently stroking over his lovers fingers, and suddenly... grinned. "Embarrassment."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Gee, I think I can supply that without having to look. How about... him seeing me stark-ass naked, me walking in on him and Dad, him walking in on us and our sha'nauch!!"

Except Dominic wasn't thinking about that at all. He was thinking about the first time he really, truly, really, fucked up in front of Lionel. He'd missed a date entirely and fucked up a deal he'd had, and the embarrassment he'd felt when walking in on a room full of men, at least forty, with no presentation, was the most mortifying. Moment. Of. His. Life. Dropping the tea on the presidents lap, fumbling to put something together. Talk about horror. "Not... quite. I've felt a bit of embarrassment worse than that, ducks."

Lex's eyebrows shot up to his non-existent hairline. "You... spilled tea on his lap? Hot tea???? That... ouch. I'm surprised you're still standing here."

"No presentation. A hole in my dress shirt. Tea. Lap. And your father, glaring at me so darkly I thought I was going to melt and disintegrate through the floor." Dominic shook his head, and even with the memory his cheeks flushed. "Christ. Your father punished me for weeks."

Lex felt himself blushing too, and he ducked his head, unable to meet Dominic's eye. "Holy shit."

Dominic flushed, hotly. "I agree. Believe me." The memory of the remote operated vibrate was only too fresh in his memory, and the fumbles he'd had over it, and how many other ways he'd been punished and meep. "You don't want to know half of it. Lex, Christ. Your father... I've never seen him more furious. I might have been... twenty six when it happened, just a bit older than Charlie."

"TOO MUCH INFORMATION!!!!" Lex bellowed, and slammed his connection shut. "Don't wanna know, see, OR feel!!"

Dominic was all but pink. "I don't want to remember it, either. It was mortifying."

Clark was snickering, wickedly, from his corner, and at his lovers glare he put on an innocent little lamb face. "Alright, Dominic, how about joy? Elation, you know?"

"Hmm." He thought for a moment... and his wedding day kept coming back. Being on the beach, with his lover, and then later, on the pier, when they'd been photographed and when he hid in his lovers throat and jacket, how his lover had held him close and protected him. Yes, most definitely. Being married, where his parents had been, with his sister and her own fiancé there. The joy of making s'mores, then making love, champagne and giggles and breakfast on the beach, sitting there while the tide receeded.

Lex smiled at that. "Dad and Dom in Italy. ...Holy shit, Dad's eating S'mores!!!!!!!" Lex choked, and he even giggled. "He's eating s'mores and... well, looks like he's enjoying it!!"

Dominic's smile almost broke his face. "Don't tell him I told you so, but he's absolutely addicted to them. Whenever I bring them to him he'll stop everything he's doing and stop to eat it. Its quite adorable, and my secret weapon to fattening him up, I should say." A snicker, but his eyes twinkled. "Aye, Italy. That was a lovely vacation, even if Herbert tagged along."

Lex snorted. "It's not working. He's not fattening up."

"That's what you think. He's going to squish me one of these days." he made a face. "He rolls over at night and jabs me spleen into my arse."

And Lex snickered, because he caught a glimpse of that.

"He's got the elbow of death."

"Agreeing." Clark made a face at his lover. "If I were mortal, Lex would be leaving bruises. Thank God I've got steel skin."

"I do not." Groused from under crossed arms as he glared at his lover. "I do not have sharp elbows, jerk." But he lifted his head. "How am I doing, by the way?"

"Excellent. So far, from what I've seen, you've hit the mark every time. With the anger one you flipped out, but I'm guessing what you saw was bad, so... no points marked off." He offered a gentle smile, to the both of them. "The next one is sadness."

"That's hard, Clark. I've been sad a lot in my life."

"I know." Clark answered, softly. "But pick the worst time."

Well. He thought for a moment, going through the memories, his worst memories, and came on one morning, the morning when his mama had woken him up and told him his Da' was dead. She had been crying, holding him and Meggie tight, and he just didn't understand why they wouldn't be seeing their daddy anymore. Not until they put him in the ground did he know, and he stood there, beside Graham, holding his brothers hand and just sobbing as Megan screamed to get their daddy out of there, because he wasn't dead. The thought of Graham, though, brought on another wave of sadness, recent sadness, of having his brother lost to him over his daughter, and he hated himself for putting his brother in such a position, and for he and Graham to be so...not okay.

Lex frowned softly, his face crumpling a little more with each changing scene. Tears started to roll down his cheeks as he felt a teenager's sadness and misunderstanding of death. "Megan was so crazed," he said softly, balancing his hands on top of Dominic's knees. He didn't dig for information, just let it flow in. And frowned again, sniffling as he rubbed across his ribs, feeling phantom pain from the beating Graham had given Dominic. "Graham is being an asshole." Soft sniffle again. "It's... dull. There's no sharp edges or sharp thoughts, just... all so gray. So dull."

"That's how it felt. Gray. I was about...thirteen, going on fourteen, when it happened. When he died. I understood, and yet. Graham took it so hard, harder than all of us, because he was twenty one going on fifty one. He took good care of us, he did." And that's all he had to say on the subject. "Graham is my brother, Lex. When Aurora is born, I hope you feel even a fraction of what I feel for my brothers and sisters. They're my family, and I love them beyond anything else in this world. What I've done to Graham has struck deep, both he and myself, and I don't know how to right it."

"You didn't do anything to Graham," Lex exclaimed softly. "It was Toni's choice, not his, and you didn't have anything to do with it!" He glared. "He needs to have his ass kicked."

"I kicked it." He puffed up.

"And got yours kicked in the process," Lex pointed out.

"I only broke a rib. I broke his hand." A smirk of pride.

Lex puffed up when Dominic did. "Yeah, you did. You broke him good." More puffing. "You kicked the hell out of that man."

"Are you being sarcastic, Little Luthor?"

"Entirely, medium Luthor." Lex just smirked.

He grinned at him, chuckling softly. "Yes, I know, I got my ass beat down. So what. Come on, Clark, before I lose anymore of my masculinity."

Clark had been very, very quiet until now, because the way they were talking to each other seemed...like family. Family, and Clark said softly, "How about pride?"

Easy. Having Lex as his step son.

Lex had been snickering over his shoulder at Clark, but his head snapped back so fast he was inviting whiplash. "You're serious?"

"Hmm?" Dominic was still looking for something prideful, a hundred things coming to mind, and he'd been completely unaware of his gut reaction.

"You just thought that the thing you're most proud of is having me as your stepson," Lex clarified, tweaking the thought in Dominic's consciousness.

"Oh. Oh! Well, of course." He flushed, softly, but it wasn't in embarrassment. "I'm so proud you're my step son. So very proud that I don't think you'll ever understand the full scope of it."

Lex cocked his head. "Yeah... I think maybe I do."

"You never knew?"

"Never had a clue." Lex studied on it this time, and he focused on the smooth travel of the bottle as it floated into his hand. He unscrewed the cap, took a drink, and then offered it to Dominic. "You... I can't believe it. Not even Dad's that proud of me."

He smiled, shook head at the bottle, and looked down. "Yes, well. I'm quite embarrassed now."

Lex took another drink of water, oddly thirsty. "Don't be. I'm... I'm honored. It's... I never knew it, Dom. Didn't even think it."

"Well, why not? You and Lionel are my family." Dominic glanced up at that. "You're my family, and when Aurora comes, she'll be in it, too. That's why I can't understand why you think she'd ever replace you, because you are my son. Lex, I know not many years separate us, but you are mine, and I would die in a heartbeat for you. I'm so proud of who you are, who you're going to be, the things you do, and that you had the strength to find Clark after all that's happened to you."

"Golf," Lex said suddenly. "Do you play?"

A blink. "Golf? Of course."

"Then we're going. Tomorrow afternoon."

A grin, then. Oh. That...oh. Alright, talk about elation. "Yeah? Alright, then. Golf it is." He looked over Lex's shoulder at Clark, saw the huge idiot grin, and matched it, chuckling softly.

"I get so happy when things happen." Clark beamed, and leaned in to give Lex's cheek a smacking kiss. "You passed, with huge high marks, baby."

"No Dad," Lex warned. "You. Me. Cellphones. And a caddy."

"No Lionel, check. I think he's meeting with the people from Babies R Us tomorrow, anyway." A stab of pain. "Lex, your father... Julian had a solid panel crib. He died of SIDS, and your father… he hadn't a clue, not a single one." Another wince, as he rubbed his arm softly. "I told him, night before last, and... he was positively heartbroken. So... don't try and talk to him for a day or two, alright? He can barely look at me."

"Julian? Oh, Christ." Lex scooted back, and pulled his knees up against his chest. "Dad... hated my crib. HATED it. Every time I cried, sobbed, anything, the entire thing shook. He... he wanted a better one for Jules. More... more sturdy. Christ almighty." He rubbed his cheek against his upraised knees. "He has got to be blaming himself."

"He hasn't slept since that night." Dominic answered, softly. "SIDS wasn't extensively studied until about... nineteen ninety six. He had no idea why Julian died, and I didn't either, until I put two and two together." He said it softly, sadly. "He's blaming himself like you couldn't believe. He made me promise Id take care of Aurora, make sure he didn't make the same mistake."

"Crap. I'll go bully him later tonight." Lex rubbed his cheek against his knees again.

"It might help." Dominic answered, softly, and he rubbed his face a little. "If you don't mind it, lads, I'm to bed. I'm tired, and its been one hell of a day. Lex... when should we go?"

"How about two? Say, two to four?" He got to his feet, and held his hand out to Dominic.

Dominic took it and hauled his poor old bones up, rubbing his face softly. "Sounds smashing. I haven't an appointment tomorrow until after six. Copter out there?"

"Of course. I'll call in the morning and have them reserve us a cart and some green time." Soft snicker. "Pack your clubs and your appetite; we'll do a late lunch at the country club dining room, and then fly back here."

"Fabulous." He offered another smile, though with thoughts of his lover, it was small. "Ask your father, I'm always hungry."

"Before you even say it, it does NOT sound like someone you know." Clark glared, as he rose to his feet too and began to pick up candles.

"You and Clark both," Lex continued with a glare. "You're both lucky Dad and I are rich. We can afford to feed you."

As Dominic glared Clark cracked up, grinning and reaching down for a kiss. "Ass. I'll pick up in here while you're gone, baby."

"Indeed. Like we're pigs or something. I should be insulted, you know, insulted and appalled." But of course, being Dominic, he was neither, and he fixed his t-shirt from sticking up at the hem as he padded out of the room. "Come on, he's in the library." A moment though, now, as they walked in the quietness of the house, and finally alone for the moment. "I'm sorry if I blind sighted you, Lex."

Lex returned the kiss and grinned. "We're slobs." But then he sobered. "You didn't, Dom... it's just... I knew, cause I'd overheard from Ethan at the site that time, but then... to actually *see* it, feel it, even a little like you did.... it was kind of scary."

"I know. I'm sorry." And he was, more than he could ever express. "I'll tell you about it, sometime. I've never told anyone what happened to me, outside of the act itself... not even your father. All he knows is that it was bad... I'm sorry you had to see it."

Another shake of his head. "I'm sorry it had to happen to you. I hope... I hope Dad took care of it." He squeezed Dom's shoulder gently as they navigated through the halls.

"He did. Though the consequences of such are another ballpark altogether."

"There are no consequences for people like us, Dom." Lex paused outside the door. "That's something you've got to realize. Dad, and I? There's no consequences. That was the tagline for one of the clubs I used to go to, and it's true."

A shake of his head, though he smiled a little. "The consequences between he and myself, and myself and God, Lex. Not in the real world."

"That's kind of what I was talking about." Lex paused outside of the library, and knocked on the door. "Dad?"

Lionel looked up from his computer. "Leave me be, Lex. I'm working."

"Bullshit you are."

"Suurffinng foor pooorrn." Dominic sing songed, as he walked in behind Lex. He went over to his love, giving him a soft kiss on the head, if he wanted it or not. "Lionel, I might be off to sleep. I'm quite tired."

Lionel barely looked up over the rim of the computer screen. "Go on to bed, little cricket. I'll be up later, as soon as I finish proofing the final numbers for the latest organic fertilizer estimate."

Dominic frowned, deeply, the lines in his face creasing as he turned to look at the clock. it was already midnight, twelve fifteen to be exact, and his frown deepened. "Lionel, come to bed, love."

"I can't, Dominic. I have to have these figures ready for tomorrow morning."

Lex snorted. "Of course he can't. He can't brood if he's sleeping," Lex goaded.

Dominic winced at Lex, though he knew it was the right way of doing things, and gazed back down at his lover, running his fingers through Lionel's hair. "It can wait, my love. Please."

Lionel growled at his son. "I'm not brooding, Lex. Dominic... it actually can't wait."

Lex narrowed his eyes. "Don't you growl at me, Dad. I'm not afraid of you; I can growl just as well as you can. And yes, you are brooding. In fact, I'd say you're giving Bruce a run for his brood. What, did you take lessons?"

Dominic winced again, softly, and sat himself on the edge of the desk. Nothing good was going to come from this. Fuck. "Lex and I..." He paused, only for a hairs breath, before saying anything about what had just transpired. He didn't even know if Lex wanted to tell him, so he'd let them on their own. "were just talking. We're going to go golfing tomorrow afternoon, love."

"That sounds like a splendid idea." Lionel just rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Do have a good time, and try to keep your shots under par."

"You're good about changing the subject." Dominic murmured, softly, and pressed a kiss to where Lionel had just rubbed, sighing softly at him. He gave Lex a 'its useless' look, and ever so tenderly rubbed Lionel's neck.

"It's a skill I've learned from a certain little cricket I know." Soft smile.

"Yeah, he doesn't let anyone else miss out on a lecture, but when it's his turn? The subject changes like Shayla's hair color."

Dominic grinned, instead of glared, at his step son, because he agreed a hundred percent. "Come now, Lionel. To shower, and bed."

Lionel glared, at both son and lover. "Fine. Fine, you both want a lecture? Fine. I can indulge. You, Lex, need to mind your own fucking business for once. I love you, you are my son, but my affairs are just that--mine. I don't need you, or anyone else, coming in and fixing things for me." He transferred his look to Dominic. "You, Dominic? I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I have work. Work that, sadly, cannot wait for tomorrow, and that needs to be taken care of." Back to Lex, but before Lionel could say another word, Lex opened his mouth.

"Shut up, Dad. Just shut up. You think that you're the only one who was hurt by Julian dying? You weren't. Okay? Me, you, mom, we all got upset over it. So you got the wrong kind of crib. If you keep feeling sorry for yourself and blaming yourself, then you're going to lose the only chance you're going to have to really be with your daughter. You're going to lose the only chance you have to love her because you're afraid. Don't make the mistake with her that you made with me, Dad. I won't let you."

Dominic winced, quietly, not saying a word as Lex spoke. Crap. He just winced, softly, because Lionel was going to kill him. He agreed with everything Lex was saying, and Lionel just needed to hear it from someone that wasn't him. "You work from sun up till sun down every damn day. You can go to sleep for a few hours, Lionel, I'm sure the world will be here tomorrow if you do."

"You're damned right it will be," Lex snorted. "Get your ass up out of that chair and march it upstairs, right now. Because you, Dad, are full of shit if you think you're the only one suffering, and it's not going to keep going on this way."

Lionel glared at his son. "How dare you talk to me like this, Lex? What do you think gives you the right to tell me how to deal with my grief over my child?"

"Richard Mar-El Kent-Luthor." Softly spoken, and Lex's eyes were hard as he stared his father down.

"Your point is pointy, Lex." Dominic answered, softly, and he carefully closed the laptop, shuffling the papers and straightening them beside the laptop for tomorrow, and gathered pens and pencils and a highlighter, setting them, with the calculator, atop the stack of papers. He leaned down, and tucked his lovers shocked feet into his slippers, before standing and offering his hand. "Come now, angel."

Lionel just stared at his son in shock. "Get out of here, Lex. Get out. Now."

Lex crossed his arms over his chest. "No. You can't make me leave, Dad. And even if you could, I wouldn't. Just because you don't like me throwing the truth in your face doesn't mean you won't sit here and listen to me, because by God I've had enough of the last eleven years of you not listening."

Lionel drew in a shocked breath. "You have--"

"--every right to be worried about my father," Lex busted in.

Crap. Tastic. Every time Dominic opened his big mouth someone yelled at someone else. One would think he'd learned to have shut up by now, but nooo. He winced, softly, because he felt like he'd almost betrayed his husband and had he mentioned dammit?

Lionel glared, but he didn't make the accusation at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he glared at Lex. "If all you're here to do is bully me, you can leave now."

Lex glared back, copying his father's Luthor glare right back to him. Luthor stubbornness met Luthor stubbornness, and Lex wasn't going to blink first.

"Alright, boys, put the sticks down." Dominic muttered, as he stepped between them. "Both of you, stop. Lex, stop being so abrasive... Lionel, listen to him once. He's a point, love." He looked down at his lover, so sadly. "Please, Lionel. Understand and listen to what he's telling you."

"Dad? Listen? Hah. You must not know the man you married, Dom." Lex didn't drop his glare from his father's.

"He listens." Dominic answered, looking over his shoulder at Lex. "Sometimes, anyway. You're his son… he'll listen to you, if he's a working brain cell left."

"And just how likely do you think that is?" Lex snorted it again.

Lionel was still stonily quiet.

Dominic turned a glare on Lex, then. "You know how you warned me to be nice to your mate? I'm telling you, Lex, be nice to mine, because I am not a happy person when he is insulted. I don't go and insult Clark's intelligence, so you watch your mouth about my mate." Then, to Lionel. "You. You listen to him. He's a smart boy."

"He's your mate, Dom, but he's my Dad. Lived with him longer than you have. Smart as a fuckin' tack, got the sense of a piss ant."

"Don't switch sides in the middle of an argument, Dominic. It's bad form." He glared at husband and son. "Fine. I'll stop... brooding, as you say."

"Don't you tell me what to do, Lionel Luthor." Dominic glared back, darkly, and threw his hands up, muttering to himself about marrying into the wrong damn family as he grabbed his blanket, his book, and stomped out.

Lionel turned on his heel, and glared at his son over his shoulder as he followed Dominic out of the library and up the stairs.

Lex just sighed. Good luck, Dom, he thought softly.

Dominic didn't know if Lex could hear him, or whatever, but, If you've got to scrape what's left of his arse off the cielin', you know who did it. He didn't dare a look at his lover as he walked up the steps to the next floor from their private library, which led to their bedroom. It was warm, cozy in the cool April night, and he tucked his Frodo book mark in his page before setting Harry on the bed side table. He shucked out of socks and turned the blankets on their bed back, staying quiet as his lover entered behind him.

Lionel came into the room wordlessly behind him, and glared. "You didn't have to sic Lex on me, you know."

"I didn't." Dominic retorted, instantly, and his glare deepened. "Lex asked what was wrong, and I told him."

"Instead of telling him to mind his own business?"

He glared. Darkly. "I needed someone to talk to about it, Lionel."

"And of course, Lex is your first choice." Lionel glared back, moving around the bedroom and tugging off the day's clothing as he headed towards the bathroom.

"You won't talk to me, what was I supposed to do?" Dominic demanded back, and oh HELL no was his lover not getting the self righteous last word, as he climbed to his feet and followed him. "You haven't been able to look me in the eye for two days, Lionel."

Lionel turned around in the bathroom and glared at his lover head-on.

"Fine. Fine, then. So what is it--my talking to your son about something that was bothering me isn't allowed? is that it? I'm not allowed to talk to him, or anyone else? You can't tell me to do that, you can't tell me I can't speak to the people I love!"

"You can talk to anyone else you want to," Lionel growled, walking through the bathroom and going to the linen rack. "But you do not bring my son in to blindside me like that."

"I didn't! He wanted to talk to you, Lionel, god, DAMNIT! When are you finally going to accept that I'm not some lying schemer, trying to fool you half the time?!" Dominic cried it, as he glared at his lovers back.

"You're not," Lionel said calmly, pulling down a towel from the rack as he went about preparing for his shower. "What you are is worried about me, and I understand and accept that. However? I do not appreciate you airing my problems and your unhappiness to my son!"

"Then who else am I going to air it to?!" He cried it, again, and he wanted so badly to go in and rip the towel out of his hands and give him a shake he wouldn't forget. "Who else, who else am I supposed to talk to, Lionel?? You'd rather Elaine, a total stranger, hear it than your own flesh and blood?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "Because Elaine isn't going to blame me for killing his brother!" Lionel yelled, at the top of his lungs as he threw the towel down angrily.

"No one is blaming you, Lionel! Don't you see that?? You didn't kill Julian, it wasn't your fault! You had nothing to do with why he died, and yet you blame yourself! Lex doesn't blame you, I don't, no one does, because you didn't kill him, you didn't kill him, Lionel!"

"I blame me, Dominic." Lionel turned to stare at his slightly haggard reflection in the mirror. "Lillian blamed me," he said softly.

It was on the tip of his tongue. On the tip of his tongue to tell Lionel that Lillian had been a good woman, a beautiful woman, but a fool of a woman who had married young and hadn't had a lick of sense about in her head, other than being a mother and being....a woman. But Dominic loved his lover, and he could never utter such a thing, even if its what Lionel needed to hear. Instead he grit his teeth, hard, almost audibly, and fought to keep his fury in. "Lillian was mourning herself, Lionel. She had no right to blame you for something you couldn't have prevented, no matter how hard you tried."

"Don't." Lionel's glare turned icy. "Don't talk about her like that."

"Don't? Don't what? Talk about her like a real woman? She wasn't a saint Lionel, she had her flaws too, and she was wrong, extremely wrong, to blame you for a death you didn't even cause! You couldn't have stopped Julian from dying, no matter what, so stop... trying to blame yourself for it! Lionel, Christ!"

Lionel very calmly picked up his bottle of aftershave, hurled it at the mirror, and watched it break before he stalked silently out of the bathroom. He paused long enough to put his pants back on, picked his shirt up from where he'd dropped it over the foot of the bed, and buttoned it on his way out the bedroom door, slamming it loudly in his wake.

Dominic jumped, hard, as the bottle smashed through the mirror, glass shattering everywhere, all over the sink, the floor, and even into the bedroom. Watched, quietly, the blood drained from his face, as his husband slammed the door behind him. He was shaking, because he'd understood the hidden meaning, the violence his lover could take out on him, and it terrified him. His throat bobbed, tightly, and he stepped back, stepped free of the shards of glass, before bending down to begin picking up the bigger pieces.

Lionel stalked down the hallway, rage boiling inside, and he went down the steps, bare feet slapping on the stone-and-carpet floors. He didn't know where Clark was, didn't care, because he wanted to talk to his son. He found Lex and Clark in the room together downstairs, and snarled. "Clark, get out. I need to talk to Lex. Alone."

"Uh, no." Clark had heard, every single word, thanks to the lovely and wonderful hearing abilities he had. Lionel was on a get drunk, get high, get dead train of thought and... nooo. They were sitting in Lex's study, in front of the warm fire, and his brow rose. "What's wrong?"

"Dad's just pissed because I interrupted his brooding. Dominic tried to tell him that my mother wasn't a complete saint--which, granted, she wasn't but she was still a damned special woman--and Dad pitched a fit and broke his aftershave and the mirror." A little smirk. "I'm guessing he's out to break my head now."

Clark...well, he winced, and climbed to his feet, glaring at his lover until the smirk went away. "Lionel… come on. Calm down. Lets go get a drink, okay? Before you go off on a head or whatever."

Lionel added his glare to Clark's. "I'm perfectly calm, Clark."

"I'm sure you are. That's why your fury is barely contained."

Lionel sighed. "Fine. Let's go have a drink, Clark. Then I'll come back and have a talk with my son."

Lex waved at his father over his shoulder. "Have fun, Clark, and Dad? I don't want to see a scratch on Clark."

Clark was sure his lover was making a joke, but he didn't say a word as he motioned Lex up the steps. He steered Lionel, who was so quietly calm it was almost scary, and led him through the long hall to the kitchen. Ms. Bird had since retired for the night, and Clark walked in easily, holding the door open. "Coffee? Tea?"

"Brandy," Lionel bit out sharply.

"Brandy. Okay." With a side of humility. Clark thought bitterly, but only for a second, as he took down a glass he'd seen Lionel use before from the cabinet and the brandy bottle from the fridge. He removed one of the gallons of milk for himself, and got down a normal, tall glass, at the same time. "How you doing tonight?"

Lionel reached for the normal glass and took the bottle from Clark, pouring the glass full. "Oh, I'm doing spectacularly, Clark."

Clark blinked. Twice. But he knew better than to get in the way of Lionel's booze, so he just took down another glass for himself and poured himself some milk. "Me too. Its not every day my lover levitates a box of Legos." Clark answered mildly as he popped open a Tupperware bowl full of cookies.

"Levitating Legos? Is that all."

He knew Lionel thought he was joking, and his lips quirked. "Mmm. Though I heard Dominic was able to levitate your threshold for anger."

"Me? Angry? Not at all. Why would I be angry, Clark?" He chugged down almost half a glass. "Just because Dominic went and insulted Lillian? Called her a foolish woman for mourning her son and blaming me for his death."

"Mmm. Stop to think maybe....you wear rose colored glasses and put her on a pedestal, with wings and a halo, Lionel?" Asked, with an eyebrow raised.

Lionel finished the rest of the glass, and slammed it down on the table. "No, young man, I do not."

"You should." Clark answered, calmly, as he bit into his cookie and refilled Lionel's glass. "You really should. Because, you know, Lionel, you don't have beady eyes, or evil horns, or a tail. You don't have a mean bone in your body. Pretty sure you aren't a baby killer."

Lionel glared at the boy over the top of his glass. "You, young man... don't know what in the hell you're talking about." He took another deep swing of brandy from the tall glass, and kept glaring over it. "I did kill my son."

"Actually... not to put too frank a point on it, but I do know, exactly, what I'm talking about, Lionel." Clark said mildly, as he dipped his cookie in and waited for it to soak the milk up. "I had a baby, if you don't remember. I buried him. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, Lionel. But my mate, my mate, didn't break down, didn't forget who and what we were, alien link to the side." Clark answered truthfully, as he bit into his cookie, slurping slightly so the milk didn't dribble and thinking quietly as he chewed. "It wasn't my fault Mar died, no more than its your fault Julian died. It was out of our hands, Lionel."

Lionel glared at Clark. "Richard was different from Julian, Clark. Mostly evidenced by the fact that Julian was lucky enough to live through his birth." Hard swallow of liquor that burnt on the way down. "It was only once he was alive that I ended up killing him with my choice of crib and cradle."

"Yes, Lionel. Of course you did. And I killed Mar by having him when I was a year out of my molt. Its my fault that he died. Don't you see that?"

"You didn't know. There's so much you didn't know about who you are, Clark. You can't blame yourself because of something that was completely out of your control. You can't blame yourself because of something your body decided for you."

Clark looked up. "And you can't blame yourself for something that was completely out of your control, you can't blame yourself for something that Julian's body decided for you."

"It was my control, Clark." Lionel put the glass down. "Nobody understands that. I chose the crib. I chose the crib, the pillows, the blankets that suffocated him. I chose it, my wishes, my desires, my hands chose it."

"I understand. I chose to ignore the signs my body was giving me, I chose not to follow my heart. I chose it... my wishes, my desires, my thoughts. I chose my path. You chose yours. Theirs nothing we can do, Lionel, because both of our children were taken away from us. What you have to understand was that it wasn't your fault, just like it wasn't my fault my child died."

Lionel shook his head. "It had to be my fault, Clark," he said softly. "There has to be a reason."

"There aren't always reasons." Clark answered back, just as quietly, as he soaked another cookie. "Sometimes there's never a reason. I dunno, really. He wasn't meant to be with me, he wasn't meant to be with any of us. Sometimes people come into your lives, via any way, just to change some aspect of you. Who knows? Maybe you were meant to lose Julian so you'd find Dominic."

"No," he answered back instantly. "I'll never believe that I lost a child to lead me anywhere. I'll never believe that I lost both my sons all to find something in front of me all along."

Clark tipped his head, and smiled crookedly. "I dunno. I never thought losing Mar would teach me anything, but it did. To be grateful of what I had, because it wouldn't always be there. And that includes you, and Dominic, my parents and friends. He taught me a lot, just by giving me the chance to be his dad."

"There's a lot of bitterness in me that you don't have," Lionel said softly.

"Bull. That's what you think. What, you think a seventeen year old who's actually nineteen, gay, dating the richest playboy billionaire in the world, has his kid who he bore buried out in the lawn, and oh, just happens to be an alien from outer space doesn't constitute as bitterness?"

"No, Clark. It doesn't. Because it doesn't define who you are or how you've reacted to other people." Most of the anger was gone now. "It doesn't... you've bounced back from this, far, far better than I ever could have hoped."

"I took my strength from you, Lionel." Clark looked at him, for a long moment. "What has happened to you hasn't stopped you from loving. It hasn't defined who you are, as you say. You're the strongest, most unbelievably versatile person I've ever met. The truth's come out, now. Now you know, that Julian died of SIDS. Even if you'd known back then, I'm ninety nine point nine percent positive you and Lillian were being as careful with him as you could be... every parent is. There was nothing you could have done. How in the world could you have known, Lionel? You bought the crib, its obvious they were still out there. How, how could you have known? You couldn't have. How could I have known I was pregnant, about to have a son that because of my foolish lust had grown in my body when I hadn't been equipped to carry him? I didn't. You didn't. There was nothing neither of us could have done."

"I could have left him in Lex's crib. I should have. But I hated it. It shook, when Lex cried, because Lex hung onto the bars." Closed eyes, as he remembered it. "I hated it, because I was always afraid he'd fall out of the crib."

"You were looking out for the safety of your child." Clark answered, softly. "You were looking out for the safety and well being of your new born baby, because he could have fallen out and broken his neck. And then, Lionel, it would have been your fault."

"It's still my fault. If I hadn't been so stubborn, so worried about Julian. If I had just... let it go."

"Its your fault, because you were worried about your infant son?" Clark raised a brow. "Come on, that was grasping at straws and you know it."

"No, it's my fault because I wasn't listening to my head. My head was telling me that it had been good enough for Lex. But I had to have the best. I had to have the most expensive thing, with solid panels because I was right, and I wouldn't listen."

Clark shook his head softly, finished his milk, and rose, to put the glass in the sink. He closed the Tupperware as well, snapping it closed and setting it where it had been, before walking past Lionel and gently touching his shoulder. "You know I'm right. In your heart, you know it." He paused for a moment. "Dominic's cleaning up, upstairs, with Lex, if you still want to talk to him."

Lionel reached up and put his hand on Clark's. "You are. But I can't let myself believe it. Because if I don't take responsibility for it... whatever Julian was to me or to anyone else, it's cheapened."

"No. Its not." Clark said it, softly, and turned so that he was facing Lionel again. "Its not cheapened, and you know why? Because it makes him that much more an angel, that much more a gift, a little being who was given to you and Lillian to love and take care of as long as he was supposed to be here. It makes you a good man, for feeling so much pain so many years later. It makes you a wonderful man, for trying to make sense of your childs death. And it gives me hope, for your daughter, and the love you'll love give her."

Lionel took a deep breath, pushing down the hitching sob and squeezing Clark's hand firmly. "Thank you, Clark. Thank you."

Clark felt it, in the shudder through the older mans body, and he reached foreward and ever so gently hugged Lionel, tightly, firmly, and close. "You're very welcome, Lionel."

Lionel just sighed, and returned the hug carefully. He didn't say anything else for a long moment, just hugged. "You're a good man, Clark... your father should be proud of you."

"All three of them are." Clark just said, quietly, and he let go, carefully, smiling a little softly at him. "Dominic was just trying to help, you know. It just doesn't always come out as articulate as he wants it to."

He sucked in a little at that, being counted as Clark's father. "I know he was, Clark. That's why... that's why I left, before I said something I'd regret."

"Loves you a lot. Good guy you've got, Lionel. I think we both can count our lucky stars." He smiled at him, then, and motioned to the door. "I'm going to go find mine and tuck him into bed."

Soft eye roll. "Don't wanna know the details."

The laugh lines in his smooth face crinkled as he grinned. "Won't, I promise. Go talk to yours, Lionel. You made a mess with the mirror."

"I'll call a glazier in the morning to repair it." He sighed, and pulled his creaking bones up. "Thank you, Clark."

"You're very welcome. I'll see you tomorrow, Lionel." And off he went, with a smile, out the kitchen doors.

-fin-

go on to the next part