The Memoirs

Clark had lived in Metropolis for exactly one week. One. Week. How he'd gotten muscled into this was beyond him--he wasn't a muscled-letting guy, but here he was, standing in a restaurant with a news crew, doing a piece on the new smoking laws with Lois *Lane*. A very *cranky* Lois Lane, who hadn't stopped muttering since Perry sent them on their way.

Yeah. Like he wanted to be here. He had an apartment to put together, and--oh, who was he kidding. he was thrilled. When Perry had said he'd be giving him a field project, Clark hadn't realized it would be so *soon*--regardless, he was thrilled. Just... elated. Not even Lois Lane could put a damper on his mood, and he beamed at the owner of the restaurant like a great idiot.

He tugged on his sweater, shuffled his booted feet, and just...did he *mention* the beaming?

Lois was a cranky Lois, yes.

But that was to be expected, because she COULDN'T SMOKE IN THE RESTAURANT!

Perry White was a fucking sadistic bastard, sending her to a non-smoking restaurant, for a non-smoking piece, with the Happy Chipmunk to nip at her heels.

"You smile any wider, Smallville, you gonna swallow your head."

"Probably!" Clark chirped cheerfully, shifting his weight to one hip, pad and pen in hand. He was at a total loss what he was supposed to do, and he didn't want to step on any toes, so he happily stayed behind Lois and beamed. He was good at beaming.

Even if the cranky woman who owned the diner they were standing in was glaring at them.

"I don't want no damn news crew in my place!" She roared, for the eighth time.

"Then you can call and take it up with Perry White!" she yelled back. "And ma'am, last time I checked? Two people? Ain't a news crew, so if you'd sit down, calm down, and answer our questions, we'll get out of here. But until then? We're not leaving, right Smallville?"

"Nope!" At the woman's ferocious glare though, he toned the smile down. "Uh, I mean, no ma'am. But we won't take a lot of your time--your place is a really popular stop for a lot of the folks who do the morning commute, so having your take on these new laws would be very influential to the public."

The woman, Irma, glared at the young buck suspiciously for a moment, even as her ego was stroked. She *did* own a nice place, and popular to boot. She scratched the side of her face. "All right now, but I don't want no funny business. I ain't gonna have spies for the Health Department ramblin' around my place! Sneaky little fuckers!"

Lois just chewed down sharply on her tongue, and reminded herself to get a pack of that stupid nicotine gum if Perry was going to keep doing this to her. "Ma'am, I've told you three times already, we're not with the Health Department. We're with the Daily Planet, and we've show you our credentials."

"Yeah, but how do's I know, eh? How do's I *know* you ain't some lyin', skinny bitch from the Health Department?!"

Aaand Clark sidestepped Lois calmly, taking Irma's spatula from her and setting it down. "Ma'am, do I look old enough to be with the Health Department?"

Irma sniffed and glared down her squashy nose at the kid. "I s'pose not."

"I'm actually from Smallville. This is my first story... I'll do my best," he gave her a sheepish smile. "And I'd really appreciate if you wouldn't mind answering our questions… and maybe getting us a piece of your famous apple pie?"

"You won't get 'round me like that, buck-o," she sniffed again, but gave him a smile full of slightly crooked, yellowed teeth. "S'long as you take down my words right, I'll give ya's the interview."

Lois prayed.

She prayed that she wasn't going to have to kill Perry.

And she prayed that she wasn't going to have to kill Irma.

And mostly, she prayed that she wasn't going to have to kill that fucking cheerful Kent bastard.

"That's all we want to do, ma'am," Lois said through gritted teeth, pointing towards the barstools at the counter. "Why don't we have a seat?"

Irma glared at the skinny bitch and upturned her nose to go fetch the apple pie.

Mmm. Work and pie. A good combination. Clark sprawled himself in one of the barstools and got comfortable, smiling at Lois. "She's really nice, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah, nice. Like a root canal." Lois pulled her little tape recorder out of her bag, looked longingly at the cigarettes and the lighter, put them back down, and sat the recorder on the counter, beside her pad and pen. "Trick of the trade number one, Smallville. Get a recorder, get tape, and make sure you keep it for six months after the story at least. Always get tape, so if somebody tries to weasel out of what they say, you got the proof."

"Cool." Clark set his satchel on his lap, rummaged around in it--there was the ruffling of a LOT of paper--before he pulled out a recorder fresh from the box and a new tape. "Got it. Recorder. Tape. ..." He blinked at her. "Why do you still use paper and pen, then?"

"Use it to jot down ideas. Specific quotes I wanna use, ideas I get while I'm listening to the person talk," she said seriously, crossing her legs as she got comfortable on the stool. "Say this woman goes on a long-ass tirade about how smoke makes the food taste funny. So, on your little notepad, you'd make a note of that, because she's making a big deal out of it, and there you go. By the time you're done with the interview, you've got your story outlined and all you gotta do is use the tape, transcribe the quotes into the story, and type it all out."

Clark didn't think Lois would understand that he could write the story in his head as he talked to someone, so he didn't let on. He just beamed as Irma came back with as tray of plates and oh *milk*! and set it down beside them.

"Here we go, fresh outta the oven," Irma said, and plunked a plate filled to brimming for the young boy--growing men needed their strength!--and gave the little tart a tiny slice. "Now, talk so you can leave."

Lois very calmly and very casually pushed her slice of pie over to Clark, who seemed to be digging in with gusto, then clicked on the tape recorder. "All right, ma'am. You're one of the first eating establishments in Metropolis to go completely non-smoking. What influenced you to make that decision?"

"Cheep," Irma said, thumping her fist on the bar hard enough to make the plates clatter. "can't have those hoodlums in here chain smokin' and writing whatever the fuck it is they write for school and such. tired of it! Ashes everywhere, nasty ash trays," Irma snapped, as she pulled out a pack, lit one up, and took a hard drag from it as she spoke. "Figure it's cheaper in the long run too. Plus, everything'll smell nicer."

Clark was digging happily into his pie, listening to the woman. Or... sort of. Because he was... well, something wasn't right here. Or, rather, something felt a little too right, now that he thought about it. he glanced around himself, hmming softly and wondering why... there weren't little families everywhere, it being a weekday morning.

Lois barely kept herself from rolling her eyes.

Barely.

"I see. Aren't you afraid that this is going to lose you some of your business, telling your customers they can't smoke in here?"

"Not with my kind of establishment. Only one on this street."

"Only diner?" Lois asked.

Irma rolled her eyes at her and took a hard puff of her smoke. "Helps with some of m'regulars, the sicker ones ya know. Can't have the city slickers comin' in here every mornin', spreadin' the smoke and filth. I take pride in my place, dammit!"

Clark didn't have to ask. He didn't. Because everything suddenly clicked when Rico and Aden came in, arm in arm. He smiled at them but shook his head to keep them from walking over, and instead turned his attention back to Irma. "I agree, Irma. You were only waiting for an excuse to get rid of the smokers, huh?"

"Damn straight! Had to replace the wallpaper four times cause'a them. Nice and clean now, and I plan to *keep* it that way. Can't have my boys fallin' ill while they're trying to have my tuna on rye!"

Rico completely ignored Clark when he came over, but wrapped his arms around Irma and squeezed. "Buenos dias, mamacita," he said with a grin. "Can I help myself to your coffee while you're busy?"

Lois' eyebrows nearly levitated off her forehead at that.

If this guy was any more flaming, they'd have to call the fire department to put out the fire shooting out of his ass.

"You go on there, sug," Irma beamed at him, giving him a big half-way hug. "I'll be not more'n a minute here with these folks."

Clark buried his smile in his pie, unable to stop a peek at Lois. *Lex?*

Rico gave her a wink, then gave Clark and Lois little winks too, just for the hell of it. "Aye, mamacita. We'll be waiting for you." He bumped his hip against her shoulder as he ducked behind the counter, helping himself to the coffee pot and two empty cups, then carried them over to the table where he and Aden were sitting, giving Aden a not-so-gentle elbow.

*Yes, Clark?* Lex's attention was currently on his microscope, checking to make sure none of the cellular samples stored in the cryogenic tank had degraded during the move.

*I've found our new hangout.*

Clark smiled at the woman happily. "Do you have anything to tell other restaurants?"

"Fuck yes!" Irma roared, thumping the bar again. "You tell those... those bastards to do what's good for the citizens, and not to cater to the few!"

*Hangout?* Lex asked suspiciously.

Lois coughed at that, rubbing her chest gently. "Sorry about that, I had a frog in my throat. Would you ever consider re-instituting a smoking section for those who wished to smoke, or do you intend to remain completely smoke-free?"

"Smoke free. What part didn't you get, twiggy?"

Clark choked on his pie, coughing into his palm.

"Does that mean you're gonna stop smoking too, or do you still intend to subject your customers to your own secondhand smoke?" Lois asked, ignoring the insult, but glad it was on tape because oh *boy* was this gonna be a good piece.

Irma *glared* at the little twit, but gave a softer look to the younger man beside her, who had polished off the huge slice, and Twiggy's too. "You're a sweet one. You come back here."

"Thank you," Clark said, *beaming* at her, and climbed to his feet, pulling his wallet out.

"Oooh, nonono, on the house!" Irma said, smiling at him again.

"Thank you, Irma. You've been a great help, we really appreciate all you've been able to do for us," Clark said, and shook her hand gently and kindly.

"You didn't answer my last question, ma'am," Lois called out, oofing when Clark yanked her to her feet. "Watch it, Smallville!" she bellowed, barely able to swipe her tape recorder up before it hit the floor.

Clark gathered all her things, winking at Rico and Aden again as they waved at him, and dragged Lois out onto the street. "Lois? No offense, but you stick out like a sore thumb," Clark said kindly, handing her her things and stuffing his own things in his bag, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his intelligent mind catalogued all they'd been talking about.

As soon as they were out on the street, Lois dug her cigarettes out, shoved one in her mouth, lit it, and drug in a deep breath. "Smoke?" she offered Clark.

Clark rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Tell me what you got from her."

"She's running a diner that caters to gays," she said easily. "The comment about some of her customers being sick and making it hard to breathe the smoke in didn't click until I saw the two come in while we were there, and one had flames shooting out of his ass the other levitated when he walked." She flicked her eyes to Clark. "No offense, Smallville, but you don't flame."

"Only when I'm in the mood," Clark said, inclining his head. "Funny. A woman who is running an establishment meant for gay people is one of the first to go all smoke-free, while heterosexual joints won't. What does that say about our community, Lois? Not that I'm someone who believes gay people are the cream of the crop, because... well, we could be, but we're too obsessed with Lex. ....Sex. I meant." He cleared his throat and blushed from the tips of his hair to his toes. "But if this is a community piece, it'd be nice to add that. The part where she's one of the first with her kind of diner, not... you know, the part about the sex."

Lois just snickered that slip. "One track mind there, kid?" She gave him a grin and heard him out. "Well? You write that part of it up, I'll add my work around it, we'll go through the morgue and get a picture of the diner to run, and we'll split the byline."

"Yeah?" Clark... was utterly delighted at the idea, and tried not to show his excitement *too* much. "Really?"

"Yep, really." Lois shrugged. "Perry didn't say you COULDN'T write, now did he? No. He just told you come along and take notes. Well, you took 'em. Now let's use 'em."

"Thanks," Clark said, and nearly wriggled. Nearly. If they weren't in public. He could act like such a puppy sometime, and it was that--his need for sophistication--that kept his wriggle at bay. "Hey, Lois? You know, I'm surprised at you. I would have thought by now you would have been begging for a story on Lex."

Lois shook her head at that. "I'm just full of surprises, Smallville." Then she gave him a grin. "I'll save the Lex stories for you. You can get more... ah, up close and personal with him than I can."

"Up close and dead if I even dare," Clark amended, but sidegrinned at her. "Twiggy."

"Brick wall," she countered.

"Got me there," Clark teased. "I'll meet you at the Planet this afternoon?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. Come by about three-ish, and I'll even try and have your corner of the desk cleaned off," she said with a snort.

"Oh, joy," Clark said, and smiled at her. "Bye," He said, and off he went. If he thought maybe she wasn't so bad, well, that wasn't a thought to have right now.

Lois waved at Clark's departing back, ground out the cigarette under her foot, and got into her car by the curb, flicking on the radio and luxuriating in the air conditioning before pulling out and heading back to the Planet.

Clark walked home. ...Just because he could. Home. Walking home, with stores and people and he was *huge* so the crowd parted like butter around him, but he still...he just loved it. He stopped at the small market by the house and bought some fixings for spaghetti before he found himself climbing the steps to the apartment.

Lex was still sitting at the large roll-top desk he'd had delivered just yesterday. It was, at the moment, his work station, where his microscope and equipment was spread out and around and on top of, so he didn't clutter the rest of the apartment with it.

He *really* missed having his lab a few steps away, instead of half a city over, but he couldn't complain too much. All the cellular samples and everything of importance had made the move without degradation, and as soon as he heard Clark buying spaghetti fixings, he laughed softly to himself and went to the stove.

Stared at the gas range for several long moments before he finally figured out how to turn it on without blowing the building up, and started a pot of water boiling for the pasta. He sat down plates and glasses and forks on the counter, and then boosted himself up to sit beside the place settings as he waited for Clark to come in.

Clark heaved the paper bag to the other arm and opened the door with his key, closing it behind him with his foot and set his keys on the box by the door that was serving as a table until they got everything unpacked. "Lex?" he called.

"In the kitchen!" Lex called, swinging his feet as he stayed perched on the counter. "Even though it's not the electric range we had at the mansion, I figured out how to turn the gas one on without blowing up the building *and* I started water boiling. Next week, after we shop seriously, I'll make sauce from scratch."

Clark didn't bother saying Lex would very likely *poison* them, just gave a quiet, pleased sigh. There was nothing more wonderful than coming home to… well, boxes... and a lover on the counter top, his beautiful gray eyes meeting his, his soft, pale skin glowing in the light of the kitchen and Clark had never before felt so in love, and so powerful. He and Lex had this, this was their home, they would live together and do what they wanted without anyone breathing down their necks. Not anymore. It was frightening, and exhilarating, and he set the bag down on the counter and reached out to hug Lex fiercely, burying his face in a warm neck. "I love you."

Lex cradled his lover against him, running his fingers through Clark's hair as he set his cheek on top of his lover's head. "I love you, Clark," he said softly, scooting down on the countertop so that Clark would have enough room to boost himself up and sit beside Lex as they waited for the water to boil.

"I feel so good when you're close," he said, stroking Lex's arms gently, then his waist as he held him close and looked down at the water by his hip. Ignored it, brought his attention back to Lex. "You make me feel so warm and safe."

Lex tugged Clark up to sit beside him, and snuggled in close to his side. "I like making you feel safe," Lex said again, pressing soft kisses to Clark's forehead and cheeks, holding him tightly. "That's what I do."

Clark smiled, flushing softly as he cuddled next to his aushna'. "Have I said lately how much I like that you're my size now? It makes me feel so good," Clark whispered shyly, rubbing his cheek against Lex's as he cuddled him closer, squirming to get more comfortable on the counter.

And choked on a slightly green giggle. He couldn't help it. "You know, counters remind me of my mom and dad."

Lex nearly fell off the counter at that, gripping Clark tightly around the waist to keep his balance as he shot his aushna' a dirty look. "Yes, well, that wasn't quite the image I was hoping for."

"Really? Here I was, hoping you'd dispel my awkwardness over counters away forever," Clark murmured, shyly again, eyelashes fluttering sweetly as he arched his head back the *smallest* bit in invitation.

Lex's hands slid back around Clark's waist, sliding his hands inside Clark's jeans to grip firm handfuls of Clark's ass, biting sharply at his neck as Clark arched it back, licking and nibbling his way up the broad, warm column.

Clark arched his hips, grinning wickedly as he pulled away with one, last, teasing kiss to the tip of Lex's nose. "No sex in the kitchen. I've got to cook," Clark said, indicating the boiling pot of water. He jumped off the counter--sashaying his backside *just* a smidgen--and started taking out the ingredients for pasta. Tomato's and seasoning went to the left of the counter, the bags of pasta to the right, and he began to look for pots and pans as he smiled as Lex from the corner of his eye. "I'm gonna unpack tomorrow while you're at the school doing your paperwork. Unpack Clark style, and we can move the furniture around to our liking when you get home."

"Unpacking Clark style makes me very afraid, Clark," Lex said, sliding off the counter to press his interested groin against Clark's sashaying backside. "And, before I get to the school tomorrow, I need to know if I should reserve you a seat in the astronomy course I'm taking as my last science co-req," he continued. "I'm not sure who the teacher is going to be yet, but they're rumored to be bringing in someone from New York."

"Unpacking Clark style means its done in ten minutes and all we've got to do is paint and decorate," Clark reminded, eyes dancing warmly as he looked over his shoulder. He washed his hands, Lex's own on his hips and his crotch pressed to his backside making him shiver in delight, as he smiled brilliantly. "Me. Taking astronomy. That's like the universes big joke, Lex. But yeah, I'm totally on board. I'm taking Geology, American Literature, and history so far. I need another science, and a history."

"I will leave the painting to you also," Lex said with a mild grimace of distaste. "Astronomy should take care of your 2nd science credit, and I'll have them reserve your spot in my class. Think you can sit in the same classroom with me and behave?"

"Nope," Clark answered truthfully.

"You're going to have to," Lex said, glaring. "Because they're only offering two sessions, one daytime and one night, and you, my friend, are not taking night classes because I have plans for most of your nights."

"Do you?" Clark asked innocently when Lex's hands tightened on his hips. "And what if I *want* to take night classes, hmm?" He began to chop the vegetables, wickedness curling his lips as he started the pot for the spaghetti sauce.

Lex ground his hips against Clark's ass. "Then you miss out on this."

Thank god Clark wasn't human, or he'd have chopped his fingers off. As it was he bent the blade even as he groaned softly, arching his back and pushing his hips into the rough grinding against his ass that felt...oh. Ohh. He shivered in delight and felt goose bumps fly over his skin. "We...could start having sex during the *day* you know," Clark said wickedly, as if they didn't already, in every corner available.

"We already do," Lex pointed out, reflecting what Clark had just thought. "However, this--" and he emphasized it with another grind of his hips. "--isn't the only thing I have planned for our nights, Clark. There *is* more to do in the city than drink or fuck, and I intend to take you out and show you all of it."

More than sex? Clark pouted and looked over his shoulder, sniffling dramatically before going back to cutting up vegetables.

"I didn't say *no* sex," Lex pointed out again. "Just... that there's MORE I have to show you than just sex. Like the ballet, and the opera, and the playhouse."

And sex! But he didn't say that, just looking at him again and studying him for a moment. "Lex, are you saying you want to show me off to high society?" Clark asked, a smile beginning to curve his lips. "You could have just asked, you know. I know you've been dying for people to know. Our photo shoot with People is in two weeks... making appearances now would be great PR and oh my *God* I sound like Dominic."

Lex plunked ass-first in the middle of the kitchen floor, tears running out of the corners of his eyes at the *shocked* and dismayed expression that was currently running across Clark's face. "Yes, you *do* sound like Dominic," he wheezed out, arms holding his aching stomach and sides.

Clark grinned down as Lex fell on his ass, dying of laughter, and wrinkled his nose. "Not that Dominic sounds bad or anything, but I'm suddenly getting what it's like to be a Luthors boyfriend." He set the pot on medium and crouched, pulling the dishrag from his pocket to wipe Lex's eyes as he laughed. "I'm new at this so you'll have to show me. We can go to operas and ballets and all the rich people will whisper, "There goes Lex Luthor and his lover". We can go to concerts and stuff, get the fact that we're together out, and then... the People thing." His eyes danced. "I'm onboard if you are."

Lex gripped Clark's forearms and used them and his lover's counterbalancing weight to haul himself to his feet. "I'm always on board for things like this, Clark. You don't have to ask me, as it was my idea. And yes, the public appearances will be a side benefit, but the main reason I want to do this is to show you these things, because I've never been able to before. I even have tickets to the Jeffrey Chappell concert at Mendelson Hall for next month--he's a pianist, Clark, that has played many national and international functions," he explained before Clark could ask.

Clark stared at him. "Lex, baby? I'm talking Red Hot Chili Peppers."

Lex waved his hands. "I can get us tickets for that when they make their next tour."

"Okay, then. I'll deal with piano, as long as we get to head bang at some point," Clark assented, and pressed his lips to Lex as he helped him to his feet. "Do I have to wear a tuxedo again?" He made a *face*. "I hate tuxedoes."

"Again? Clark, you are going to be wearing tuxedos quite often now," Lex said, kissing his lover's lips and then his cheek. "They are, in fact, going to become your second skin."

"Oh, *man*." Clark's voice took on a definite whiny tone as he turned back to his spaghetti, pouting over his shoulder and dumping more spices into the spaghetti. Some of which he had no clue what it tasted like. "That sucks."

Lex reached out, took the tarragon, changed it for rosemary, and then took the lemon pepper and put the basil there instead, all without saying a word about it. "Yes, it does suck, but unfortunately, that's what it means to be a part of these things. You have to wear a tuxedo."

Clark glared, took back the lemon pepper, and dumped some into the pot just for that. "A tuxedo. And shoes. And a *bow tie*. This *sucks*."

Lex just shrugged again, and went back to his perch on the counter. "If it's that much trouble for you, Clark, perhaps we should rethink the People shoot as well, because the more well known you are publicly, the more black-tie events you will be expected to attend with me."

"I never said that," Clark answered calmly, turning the sauce and raising the temperature under it. "I was just complaining."

"I realize that, Clark, but it's a valid complaint if it's something that makes you that uncomfortable."

"It doesn't bother me," Clark said, and turned the sauce again. The happy mood from a few minutes before was gone, and his eyebrows pinched as he looked at his lover. "Are you all right?"

Lex nodded. "I'm fine, Clark, don't worry." He gave a small smile. "I suppose I'm just worrying for nothing."

"About?"

"Whether or not this is all a good idea; coming to Metropolis, doing the shoot, getting you involved in my end of our life so quickly."

Clark set the spoon down carefully on the counter and turned to look at Lex. "Your end of our life?"

Lex nodded. "Yes. The Luthor end of it, Clark. Which is black tie parties, photographs in the society section, nasty gossip, more fundraisers like the one for my mother's foundation, and did I mention more tuxedo wearing?"

Clark was very, very calm. "Why wouldn't it be a good idea?"

"Because you seem less than thrilled with the idea of having to dress appropriately," Lex said, also calm. "While I realize that I am quite probably blowing simple complaining out of proportion, I do have to make sure."

"Make sure of what?"

"That you understand, Clark, that there's a certain amount of showing off that we have to do, because of who I am, what my family is, and you are a part of that now, because you are who I've chosen to spend the rest of my life with."

Clark inclined his head and after a moment, set the dishrag on the counter and took the stove off. His temper was hot but he didn't want it to blow up. He wasn't quite sure why he was so offended, so he simply said in the same careful, calm voice, "Would you rather we stayed in Smallville, then? If you think your country hick boyfriend can't dress the part of the sophisticate, I mean." He looked up.

Lex glared at that remark. "Clark, you're the one who's standing here bitching and moaning about how much you hate wearing a tux and how uncomfortable it makes you, and I'm simply asking you, is it a sacrifice you can make?"

"I wasn't being serious. Not really." Clark just looked at him. "Yes, it's a sacrifice I can make."

Lex just looked back. "I'm glad to hear that."

Clark nodded a little. "I'm going to go shower before dinner. The sauce only needs ten more minutes of heating. We can heat it and make the noodles before we eat."

"I've cooked an entire gourmet meal before, Clark. I think I can handle stirring spaghetti sauce and boiling pasta."

At that Clark flinched but he didn't say anything, just turning and walking from the kitchen. He walked into the enclosed space where their bed was warmly made, and to the adjoining bathroom. After getting a change of clothes he put the hot water on, let it warm, and then took a long shower. Washed his hair twice, scrubbed the sweat and city grime off his body, and then dried and got dressed in fresh jeans and t-shirt.

The apartment was really quiet when he stepped back out, damp hair tied back in a pony tail. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face before making his way back to the kitchen. The warmer lights were lit in the living room on either side of the couch, and the overhead stove light was on, casting the kitchen in a soft glow with dark shadows in the corners.

While Clark was in the shower, Lex angrily stirred the sauce, added several other spices to counter the lemon pepper, then opened the box of spaghetti.

He took *great* pleasure in snapping the big bundle in half and dropping it into the boiling water, adding a little oil to keep it from sticking to the pot as he stirred. When the sauce was finished he took it off the burner, set it on the rear to stay warm, and put the lid on it to keep the steam inside as he watched the pasta bubbling merrily.

By the time Clark got out of the shower, the pasta was almost ready to drain, and Lex was rummaging around for the strainer.

Clark stood in the doorway, watching Lex work for a minute, before he said softly, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Lex said, his voice muffled as he dug through one of the boxes that Ms. Bird had labeled as their fragile cookware set.

Clark shifted a little and when Lex didn't look at him, he walked in and sat at the small kitchen table, folding his hands on top of it and studying them as uncomfortable silence fell between them.

Lex finally gave a small yelp of victory as he found the strainer in the box, and carried it to the sink for rinsing. Once it was clean to his satisfaction, he left it in the sink and forked a strand of spaghetti. "Do you like yours a little stiff or altogether soft?" Lex asked as he stirred the pot.

"Whatever you're having is fine," Clark said, studying his hands.

"All right." Lex drained the pasta quickly, several flicks of his wrist shaking the excess water off as he took two plates from the dish drainer, where Clark had washed them after breakfast, and sat them on the table. "What do you want to drink?" he asked, opening the fridge. "We have water, soda, tea, and I believe there is beer left also."

"Soda." This time Clark got up and pulled down two glasses from the cabinet, where a few were already unpacked, and filled them with ice. He set them on the table and got out forks, knives, spoons and napkins, setting them on the table before sliding back into his seat.

Lex set out the two-liter bottle of Coke on the table, then transferred the drained pasta to the cooled pot, brought it to the table, and then sat the sauce on the table as well, cushioned by one of the pot holders.

Then he picked up his glass, filled it halfway with soda, left it sitting on the table until he had gone through the liquor cabinet--one of the first things they'd unpacked--and filled the rest of the glass with rum before sitting back down and starting to serve his plate.

Clark… didn't even want to eat. But he did as Lex did, filled his plate, and then poured a glass of coke. He drank some of it before quietly beginning to eat, unable to look up at his lover.

Lex ate just as quietly, keeping his eyes down on his food and concentrating on not splattering the sauce all over his shirt as he quietly slurped the noodles and sauce.

"I really am sorry," Clark said, quietly, breaking the silence as he kept his eyes trained on his food.

"I told you, Clark, there's nothing to be sorry for," Lex said between forkfuls of pasta.

"Then why aren't we talking to each other?"

"I don't know; I think perhaps everything that needs to be said has already been said, clarified, and taken care of?" Lex said, his tone at the end making the statement into a question as he carefully patted his mouth with a napkin.

Clark shook his head and looked down at his food. "I just wanted to have a quiet dinner. That's all. You've gone all Luthor on me, and I hate it. So stop acting like your dad and tell me why you're pissed."

Lex gritted his teeth quietly. "I have not gone all Luthor on you, Clark, nor am I pissed. I was under the impression we *were* having a quiet dinner." He put his fork down and took a deep drink from his glass.

"No. We're having dinner like it was in my house after my parents fought and pretended everything was fine. And I hate it."

Lex sat back in his chair at that, pushing his mostly-empty plate towards the center of the small table. "I told you, Clark, I'm not pissed off."

"Upset, then."

"I'm nothing of the sort."

Clark just shook his head in frustration. He pushed his own plate away, mostly full but for a few bites, and drank some of his soda. "No, you're nothing of the sort." He climbed to his feet, took their plates, and set them in the sink. "I'm going to take a nap. I've got to meet Lois at three to write our interview up."

"That's a good idea; I'll finish clearing the table and find something to put the leftovers in, so that if you need to have lunch tomorrow, all you'll have to do is reheat the spaghetti," Lex said, standing up and carrying his glass and plate to the sink.

Clark nodded and felt like crying. His throat certainly stung enough. "Want to come lay down with me?"

"I shouldn't interrupt your rest," Lex said, scraping the clinging bits of spaghetti off his plate and into the garbage disposal in the sink, flicking it on for a moment to run it and then turning it off as he reached for Clark's plate.

Oh yes, his throat stung now. He wanted to beg, but instead he turned and left the kitchen. He walked to their little bedroom and closed the door behind him before he lay down, curling up on his side with the thick, warm blanket that lay on the end of the bed.

Lex scraped Clark's plate too, running the garbage disposal again then rinsing both plates off before sticking them and the utensils into the dishwasher.

Hell has frozen over, Lex reflected to himself, as he rummaged through the box of cookware again in hopes of finding a plastic container. I am doing voluntary household cleaning.

Another stifled yelp of discovery and he came out with his prize, washing the container before combining the sauce and pasta, then putting the lid securely onto the dish and putting it in the fridge, along with the bottle of soda.

He ran hot water in the sauce pot, letting the water soak the worst of the tomato sauce out, because he had no intention of hand-washing the pot. The housekeeper would be coming in that afternoon, she could wash it then.

The table was clean, dishes in the dishwasher, and Lex went quietly into the bedroom, tucking the blanket more snugly around Clark's shoulders before going to the bathroom and pushing the door mostly closed so that the sounds of water running wouldn't wake Clark from his nap.

And nap Clark did. Uncomfortably, dark dreams, only half asleep at times. When he woke up thirty minutes later he had gotten absolutely no rest, and finally gave up on trying. He lay on his back tiredly, staring at the ceiling, the blanket curled up over his shoulder as the water ran in the bathroom.

Lex finished his shower as quietly as he could, wrapping the towel around his waist as he quickly skimmed moisturizer over his skin, and then padded out into the bedroom.

He'd meant to get his clothes out of the closet and then slip into the middle bedroom and get dressed, but he sighed when he saw Clark awake. "I'm sorry, Clark, I didn't mean to wake you."

Clark shook his head and rubbed his face, his eyes, and sat up. His body felt achy and tired, and he wanted nothing more than to curl back up. There was no doing for it though, so instead he just pushed the blankets off him and stood. The tension between them was making it hard to breathe. "I'm going to go to work early. I'll be back tonight, but if you want to be alone I can sleep downstairs."

"If you'll call me when you leave work, I'll make sure that I leave Cadmus at the same time, and I'll bring home dinner so you don't have to make a second trip to the grocery store," Lex said, watching Clark stand.

Clark nodded and stared at his feet. Lex hadn't answered the second part. Clark had fucked up… he shouldn't have been angry, but he couldn't help that and now Lex was being so coldly polite after the teasing from earlier and fuck. "I'm sorry. Again. For whatever it is I did to make you so angry at me."

"I'm not angry at you," Lex said, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

"You're not angry," Clark repeated softly, and closed his eyes as he turned away. "I'll be back later, then. I'll call you." He left the room, got his shoes, coat, bag and coat, and locked the door behind him.

When the door locked behind Clark, Lex *really* felt like throwing something at it.

Seconds later, the glasses from the dish drainer flew out of the kitchen and smashed against the wall, glass shattering and tinkling as it fell.

Lex snarled at the broken glasses, picking up a pair of Clark's boots and putting them on his feet before going to the patio and looking for the broom he knew was out there.

- = - = -

Clark stayed at the Daily Planet for most of the afternoon. After he and Lois finished the article and submitted it--with his name included on it--he stayed around and fixed the copy machine which had broken for the millionth time. Must be all the banging various people in the office did to it. Regardless, with some sneaky eye-beam welding he was able to keep it steady and secure and very likely not to fall apart for another year or two before Perry gave in and got rid of the hulking pile of junk.

After that, sweaty and tired, ignoring the lust-laden looks he was getting from the paper girl, Clark bit Lois goodbye at seven and left the office. He picked up a bottle of wine before he went home.... home to an empty apartment, that is. There were pots on the stove, lidded, and the apartment was dark.

There was even a note scrawled neatly on a sheet of light lavender stationery, propped against the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

Clark--there was an emergency at the lab that I had to take care of--someone broke in and stole about a dozen different chemicals, some of which can be used to manufacture illegal drugs. I'll be home as soon as I can.

Lex

Clark picked up the note, reread it, and then set it down again tiredly. He set the bottle of wine beside the note tiredly, frustration and unease welling inside of him, before he walked to their bedroom. He pulled the satchel over his head and took his clothes off slowly, changing into warmer house clothes--long pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He didn't bother with socks, just rubbing his fingers through his ever-too-long hair, scratching the back of his neck and exhaling quietly. He was exhausted, that was for sure, but it was much too early for sleep, even after the kind of day he'd had.

He wanted to talk to his father, but even after repeated knocks on Jor-El's bedroom door, there was no answer, and he sighed, leaning his head against the wood for several moments, gathering the energy to move.

He went back into the kitchen, got a plate of the roast beef and vegetables, leaving the potatoes because he seriously didn't think his stomach could handle too much of it tonight. He took his plate, and a coke, and curled up on the couch. As he ate he flipped channels on the TV, not really seeing what he was watching--he hadn't watched TV in so long that it felt strange to do so. Regardless, he put it on an old movie and ate in the quiet silence of their home, feeling the oppressive silence closing in on him from all sides until he set his half-eaten plate aside, got the throw off the back of the couch, and curled under it as he lay down.

It was only a matter of time before he fell asleep, half dozing and half asleep, with the black and white images flickering on the screen.

And that's how Lex found him when he came home about a half hour later. He slipped his key into the lock and squeezed in through the half open door, then tossed the keys onto the table as he went for the liquor cabinet, poured himself a stiff shot of scotch, and downed it before he even spoke.

The TV's flickering lights caught his attention, and he gave a soft laugh, picking up Clark's half-empty plate and taking it out to the kitchen, scraping the leftovers off into the garbage disposal, but didn't turn it on quite yet.

Clark opened one eye blearily, then the other, and made a low sound in his throat. He knew before even waking up that Lex was home, and sat up, the blanket falling from his shoulder to his hip as he looked up. "Lex?"

"Yeah, Clark, I'm home," he said, wincing from the kitchen. "I didn't mean to wake you up, I was just putting dinner away," he continued, waving a spatula at the food on the stove.

Clark climbed to his bare feet and padded into the kitchen sleepily, squinting at the bright lights over the sink and stove, and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. "How is everything at the lab?"

"There's still a bit of a mess, and one of the steel-welded doors was blown off the hinges." He sighed. "There was also some equipment taken--nothing that couldn't be replaced. We gave the police the serial numbers of all the equipment that had been stolen, and the names of the drugs that were missing from the storage area, so they're going to be on the lookout for any new drug labs that pop up in the area." Another deep sigh. "Officer Sawyer was more than happy to inform me that they will also be keeping an eye on the lab to make sure that I'm not doing anything illegal and setting up the stolen drugs and equipment as a cover."

"Anything specific taken?" Clark asked, frowning a little himself and crossing his arms across his chest. He perched a hip on the counter beside Lex, watching him.

"Nothing that rings any bells, but I'm going to be running them on the database tonight and see if anything comes up." He was stirring the potatoes absently. "The names of some of them were familiar, but I can't remember where I've read them before--it might just be because they're in my textbooks, or that I've worked with them before. Which is why I'm going to cross-reference them with my private database, because I've got almost every compound known to man--and some that are only theoretical at this point--logged into the pharmaceutical dbase."

Clark nodded, rubbing the outside of his arm free of goose bumps. "I'll let you get to your work, then. I got some wine, if you want some," he said and got a bottle of water from the fridge.

"It's going to take a while to run it; you're not going to disturb me if you want to stay out here with the television."

He shook his head, shoulders tensing up. "I'm going to have an early night. Have some work to do, and a new book I wanted to start. I'll be in our room," he said, and after looking at Lex, almost longingly for a second, he turned and left the kitchen. There was only so many times he could ask Lex for forgiveness, only so many times he could hope for it. He hoped sleeping would make it better and hoped for a better day tomorrow as he tiredly opened the bedroom door again and turned down the blankets before going into the bathroom.

Lex sighed, and opened the fridge, getting out the bottle of wine that Clark had mentioned. He popped the cork easily, then dug out two wineglasses from the boxes, washed them off, and went into the bedroom, so that when Clark came out of the bathroom, he would see Lex sitting there on the bed.

He sat the glasses on the little bedside table, carefully filling both of them before setting the wine on the floor and waiting.

Clark bit hard on his lower lip, licking over the side of his mouth and tasting toothpaste from just a minute ago. Face scrubbed, hands washed, a nice piss and now Lex, sitting on the bed with the wine. He tensed again--he couldn't help it. "I thought you had work to do?"

"I do, but I told you, it's going to take a while to do it, and it doesn't matter when I start it." He turned around and held one of the full wineglasses out to Clark.

He took the glass, taking a step forward, and absently tugged the side of his pajama bottoms up higher on his hip nervously. "I'm really sorry. About before."

"I told you, Clark. You don't have to be sorry." He surrendered the glass into Clark's careful grip, and looked down into his own. "I hate that I upset you by questioning you. I think I'm more angry with myself than you."

"I just thought... I felt inadequate and really... like a hick. You know? Lex, I don't think I'll ever be good enough for you, not like you deserve. I'm not sophisticated or elegant, I'm not slender or waify and I don't do sarcasm. Sarcasm flies over my head, actually. So... I'm not... not refined or anything like that. It's hard being your lover, in the sense that I don't have the first clue about being classy. So… you're going to have to show me, and put up with my temper." He swallowed and sat down next to Lex. "I know what I am, and I know what I'm not. You have to show me how to act right in your life, Lex."

"But you see, Clark, that's just the thing. If I taught you the difference between a shrimp fork, a salad fork, a dinner fork, and a dessert fork--it's all in the tines, by the way--then that would be making you into someone you're not. Clark Kent doesn't know or care that there's four forks, three spoons and a knife in a formal place setting. One of each has always been enough for him. And that's the guy that I love. The one who doesn't *believe* in multiple forks for every little thing."

Clark took Lex's free hand in his. "But I can't go out with you to formal dinners and not know what each fork does. Because then I'll just embarrass myself, and embarrass you." Clark hadn't felt this in so long--the obvious difference between his life and Lex's. While Lex and his family had entertained presidents, Clark had entertained Pete. The differences between the social classes they'd been brought up in was like night and day. "Lex, in two weeks the worlds eyes are going to be on us. If I do something to embarrass you, I'd die."

"You couldn't embarrass me, Clark," Lex said. "That's just the thing. I mean... yes, there are times when I'll ask you not to wear your yellow work boots to a press conference, but that's part of the problem too. You *should* be able to, and I shouldn't have to ask you not to." He drained his wineglass and set it to the side.

"I should be able to, but I won't--I can't. I don't know what's appropriate when. You have to show me, Lex, and you have to promise me not to get upset when I do, because I know I will. Okay?" He squeezed Lex's hand gently in his. "Just please, don't shut me out like you did today."

"I don't *like* being the reason you're upset," Lex said again. "In fact, I can safely say that I hate it. In which case, me showing you doesn't do either of us a damn bit of good," he said, returning the squeeze of Clark's hand.

"You can't let me embarrass either of us, Lex," Clark said, a note of panic entering his voice. "I don't want you to be laughed at because of me."

Lex turned and gave Clark a kiss on the cheek. "Nobody is suicidal enough to laugh at a Luthor, Clark."

"No, but they may be suicidal enough to laugh at his lover," Clark murmured, and when Lex did no more than kiss his cheek, Clark leaned forward, cupped Lex's face, and brought him in for a proper, gentle kiss.

Lex returned the gentle kiss with deep feeling, squeezing Clark's hand on the side of his face and rubbing his thumb along Clark's wrist. "They won't laugh," he murmured, nibbling at Clark's tongue. "I'll have them murdered."

"You can't have the world murdered," Clark whispered, and kissed Lex's mouth once more, so gently, before pulling away the smallest bit. "Show me, Lex. If I'm going to work at the newspaper, do interviews, I've got to know how to act in different situations. I plan on going to the top, and I can't very well do it wearing farming boots and eating with one fork."

"Yes, I can," Lex said. "Let them try me and we'll see what I can and can't do for you." He leaned his head on Clark's shoulder, closing his eyes as he listened to the fast, alien heartbeat.

"You protect your aushna', Lex, but you have to take care not to protect too much," Clark said, smiling down at him and kissing his bald head gently. "I love you so much. Show me, Lex."

"There's no such thing as protecting too much," Lex groused, refilling their wine glasses from the bottle on the floor before straightening back up.

"*Lex,*" Clark murmured. "Stop avoiding what I'm saying." But he let it drop as he wound an arm around Lex's chest and brought him in for a tight embrace. "I love you so much."

"I'm not avoiding it. I'm flatly ignoring it," Lex answered in return, relaxing into Clark's arms. "I love you." He kissed the bulging arms that held him warmly.

Yes, well. Lex could ignore it all he wanted to, but Clark wasn't going to. In fact, he was going to go to Smallville in the morning. Of anyone he knew, Lionel could teach him how to act right in high society. Lex could kill him for it later. "I'm going to go to Smallville in the morning," he murmured into Lex's ear. "See my parents and get a few things we left at the mansion. We can meet up for an early dinner tomorrow?"

Lex nodded. "Yeah. I'll be waiting for the results of the pharmacology database check, and when I get those, depending on what they are, I may be meeting with the police again, and I have a call with the new astronomy professor tomorrow morning, before he comes down from New York. It seems he heard I was going to be in his class and feels it necessary to speak to me before class begins."

"Ahh, the advantages of the rich and sexy," Clark said, giving his lover a dazzling smile that just about lit up the whole room. He kissed Lex on the cheek, happy again, and took a long drink of his wine before standing up to open the bed. "Sounds good to me. Let me know how it works out for the pharmacology thing, okay? And I'd love to take a look at your database sometime--I could memorize it for you, and all you'd have to do was ask me questions. It takes me about a second and a half to cross reference," Clark said.

Lex shook his head. "Oh no. You and I are going to be working on your OWN computer this weekend," he said. "Your father has given me the schematics for it, and 95% of it is going to be custom electronics that he's going to have to build himself, but it's going to be a supercomputer based on the crystal libraries of your world."

"Huh?" Clark stopped at that, looking at Lex with a furrowed brow. "What computer? Eh?"

Lex just grinned at that. "Your father, Jor-El? There's schematics in the ship's memory for a supercomputer based on the crystal libraries of Krypton. It'll contain all the knowledge of your home world, even things that he doesn't know and has to search for, at your fingertips, as well as the entire body of Earth's knowledge as well, which will take a little longer to download."

"Is that why he's refused to see me for two days?" Clark couldn't help it--he looked at their closed bedroom door and right across at Jor-El's bedroom. "I don't want to spy on him, that doesn't seem right. All he's done is grunt at me for the last two days," Clark said, and then looked at Lex in stunned disbelief. "The knowledge of my world?"

Lex nodded. "Yes, it is; he's in... well, I couldn't hope to pronounce it correctly, but it translates into deep contemplation with the ship's core right now, and all of his attention and his being is focused on drawing out everything he needs to create this for you."

Clark's eyes welled with hot tears and he bit his lower lip as he stood there, stunned, still opening the bed. The blankets hung limp in his hand. He sat abruptly on the side of the mattress and let the joy of that wash over him. Lex would never quite understand what it was like to be alien, not like Clark did. And that he'd have this special thing was... was more than he could have ever hoped for.

Lex could feel the joy bubbling out of his lover, and he gently rubbed his hand up and down Clark's spine, offering companionship and love. "I'm glad this is making you happy," Lex whispered softly, pressing his lips to the back of Clark's neck.

"I'll know everything. Nothing will ever be a nasty surprise again." Clark took Lex's hands tightly in his, closing his eyes. "We'll know how to take care of our children."

Lex nodded. "We'll know how to make sure you don't suffer again, we'll know how to make the birth easier," he said, kissing Clark's neck again, squeezing their interlaced fingers. "We'll know what you can and can't do."

"Yes," Clark whispered, closing his eyes as warmth saturated him. It was only a few moments before he opened his eyes again and turned to look at his lover. "When will we try for children, Lex?"

Lex nuzzled his lover's cheek gently. "When you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Clark said, a little pout in his voice as he turned to look at Lex. He sniffled and lay his head on Lex's shoulder.

In truth, he was far from ready to deal with either the labor or a child. He didn't know how he and Lex could care for a child. At least, not yet. It would take Whitney and Chloe leaving John with them for at least a week, he knew. He could all but hear Aurora's furious sobbing from where he sat with Lex.

His voice was serious, now. "I'm not ready. The pain.." he shuddered. "I've never felt pain like that before. And what if our baby is sick, Lex? What if...what if he dies, like Mar did? W-what will happen to us?" His voice wavered.

Lex cradled his lover gently against his shoulder, kissing his forehead. "He won't be sick. Even your father says so; your body has changed all it needs to change, and you can bear our children now," he continued, running his fingers along Clark's jaw line.

Clark nodded and pressed his lips to Lex's cheek. Down his neck… to his ear. "Let me touch you, Lex?"

Lex nodded, scooting back and tugging Clark into the bed with him. "Touch me, Clark. Anywhere you want to, however you want to."

 

-fin-

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