Title: Still Breathing

Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Rating: R for sexual situations and language

Warnings: m/m sex

Spoilers:  Vague references to Season One

Word Count: 17759

Archive: Fine, just let me know

Summary:  The love of a lifetime can begin with a dream.  Remix of 1997 movie 'Still Breathing'.

 

Standard Disclaimer:  I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville.  James F. Robinson and Zap Picture own 'Still Breathing.' Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.

 

Author's Notes:  This movie is another favorite of mine; I've always preferred romantic comedies.  I don't pretend to be an expert in either Smallville or DC canon.  I just picked the parts I like and took off from there into AU - in this case completely into AU land. 

Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.

 

 

*****

 

Still Breathing

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

The ship was in the back of the truck, covered with a tarp. No one else had been around when they picked it up, so it looked like they would be able to keep this...little boy safe for now. The blond-haired man patted his pocket where he'd put the metal piece the naked boy picked up from the dirt around the crater.  Suddenly, his russet-haired wife cried out as he hit the brakes, clutching her blanket-wrapped bundle closer.  A wild-haired man had stepped into the path of the truck, waving one arm while carrying what looked like a child in the other.

 

 

"Please, my son's been hurt. Can you take us to the hospital?"

 

A quick look passed between the couple and then the passenger door opened in invitation. As soon as the man and his son were inside, the truck continued. The injured child moaned and the woman was startled to see that most of his red hair was gone, only a few curls remaining. The dark-haired boy in her lap touched the other boy's cheek, rewarded with a small smile and a glance from distressed blue eyes before they fluttered shut.

 

 

***

 

Chapter 1

 

 

The scratchy sweet sound of Bessie Smith issued from the flared horn of an old phonograph in the garden.  It was a green arbor, covered in ivy, enclosed by century-old trees. Numerous paths wound between the trees to hollows and mounds covered in ferns and wildflowers. Inside this peaceful space, a longhaired young man seated in a cane bottom chair was intently destroying an old magazine with a large pair of scissors. 

 

Focused on the figures and faces of women, he cut away all irrelevant scraps until the ground around him was white with ersatz snow. He sat there with a glazed look in his green eyes, and ran his hand through his black curls, then rubbed the equally black stubble on his chin.  Gathering up his treasures, he rose and carried them into the old house, dropping them on the dining room table to join the hundreds already there. Yawning, he ambled into the kitchen to make coffee.

 

After the phonograph wound down, the house was quiet. The tall, well-muscled man leaned against the kitchen counter reflecting on his life alone. He had become accustomed to the solitude since his parents returned to their hometown in Kansas. They had been too homesick to remain here in San Antonio when he left for school back East. After his graduation, he had decided to return to the only home he had ever known, bequeathed to him by his great-aunt Ruby.

 

Still, he missed his parents occasionally. They had given up so much to protect him from the only thing that could hurt him. Moving to a new city, even a new state had only been possible with the help of his mother's family. Still, they had always dreamed of returning to the town and family farm they had loved. It helped that he could easily visit them with a quick flight to the farm they had taken back over. Shaking his head at his foolish dismals, he finished his drink and set the mug down with a contented, "Much better."

 

Shuffling out of the kitchen, scratching a well-toned abdomen through his usual white A-shirt, he stopped and looked around before heading to the cluttered table. He rummaged through the pieces, finally selecting a mouth and two eyes. After applying glue to the backs, he moved to stand before a collage applied directly to the painted wall. It extended across the entire 12-foot length and several feet high with hundreds of photos from old and new magazines and newspapers.  Considering carefully, he positioned the additions on the wall and muttered, "I know you're in there somewhere."

 

 

***

 

Chapter 2

 

 

//There are two things I tried to believe but couldn't, one was that there was a perfect someone waiting out there for everyone, the other was that true love gives you happiness. In real life, I spent so many years dodging men and women who were so much less than perfect, and when I did fall in love, happiness never came. So, I grew up. I put away those childish things and finally stopped holding my breath for that someone.//

 

The old blue truck backfired as it pulled into the parking lot and stopped. Locking the wheel with a Club, a slim young man exited the truck and walked towards the dark alley that ran alongside the lot. He was almost invisible in his black pants and matching knee-length coat, only his head and hands flashing into view as he strode from shadow to shadow. He moved confidently, familiar with the area. As he passed a dark stairwell, a pile of rags came alive and lunged.  Slammed against the wall, the slender man gasped, but recovered swiftly, delivering several punches and driving back his attacker. 

 

Still trying to catch his breath as he moved away from the would-be thief, he was dismayed to hear the sound of a gun cocked behind him. Turning, he watched the gun coming to bear on him, white face reflecting under the solitary street lamp.

 

...

 

Sitting in the dark garden dozing, the dark-haired man bolted upright yelling, "No!" as the pale frightened face he saw in his dream jerked him awake.

 

...

 

Sure that he was going to die, the pale slender man closed his eyes, only to open them when he heard the sound of a high-powered engine.  A high-powered muscle car screeched around the corner and lunged through the alley, striking the thief as he moved towards his prey and then left without a single black mark on the pavement to indicate an attempt to brake.

 

Advancing to the prone body on the pavement, the young man extended a stylish black boot and nudged the figure. No response resulted in a quick search through the thief's pockets and retrieval of all of his ill-gotten cash. Pocketing the money and administering a retaliatory kick to the ribs, the former victim booted the gun into the nearby sewer and walked quickly to his original destination.

 

Entering the brightly lit bar was a shock after his recent brush with death.  Yelling over the jukebox playing Morphine, the bartender asked, "What can I get you tonight?"

 

"Tequila, for everyone," he replied, slamming the recently acquired wad of bills down on the bar.  He tossed back the shot and then made his way to the pay phone in the rear.

 

"911. Is this an emergency?"

 

"Yes, there's been an accident."

 

"Were there any injuries?

 

"There's a guy on the ground, I think he's still alive."

 

"What is the location?"

 

"Santa Monica and Formosa."

 

"Were you involved in the accident?"

 

"No."

 

"Did you witness anything?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"Your name please?"

 

He hung up the phone.

 

...

 

Looking up at the stars, another flash of vision and the man in the garden grinned, "I've got her."

 

 

***

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Galvanized by his dream, the rumpled dark-haired man gathered all of his clippings and sheets of paper along with rubber cement to start making composite collages of his dream face. Where a police artist would have used pencil, charcoal or chalk, he used eyes from one picture, a nose from another and the mouth from yet another. His head bobbed in time with the joyous operatic music he had placed on the phonograph for inspiration.  Beating time with the rubber cement brush, he waved it through the air as if conducting an orchestra, until the fumes became too strong, even for him. He created a dozen 'sketches', each not quite what he was seeing in his mind, but close enough for him.  He had the most difficulty with the hair, still not sure about the choice of red after placing and removing it multiple times.

 

 

...

 

 

After hanging up the phone, the slim man heard his name called, "Lex, over here!"

 

Scanning the room, he spotted his friend with a man and woman he hadn't seen before. Lex made his way to the table where he air-kissed his friend before sitting. "Victoria, what a surprise! Who are your friends?" he asked politely, despite the pounding headache he was developing.

 

"This is Tomas and Brigitte. Tomas is up from Argentina for a polo competition and Brigitte is his date."

 

Lex mouthed the necessary polite phrases, trying hard to play his part and to conceal his pain as Victoria chattered.

 

"...American men can be so boring and Latin men have a mystique, sensuality, a je ne sai quoi, how would you say it in Spanish?"

 

Tomas smiled, deliberately engaging Lex's attention first, "Latin Americans enjoy their life, of that there can be no doubt."  He snapped a one hundred dollar bill then placed it on the table to cover the check.

 

Victoria had certainly come through on this one, mused Lex. She had a nose for men who played both sides of the field, but who wanted to be discreet. Lex was tired and hurting, but he knew he had to make an effort. Who knew when the next one would come along and he had bills to pay. Rubbing the back of his neck, Lex dropped his head and then glanced up at Tomas, with his blue bedroom eyes before saying, "Look everybody, I've got to get going."

 

The blonde hanging on Tomas' arm obviously detected a rival for his attentions and she gave a little squeal and said, "We have to get going too!"

 

"Yes, Brigitte and I are going dancing. Would the two of you like to come?" Again, Tomas directed the invitation to Lex with a suggestive smile. Lex gave a faint smile and shake of his head while leaving it clear that he was open to persuasion.

 

"Look, would you walk me to my truck? I had a bit of a problem on the way here and I don't really want go back through that dark alley by myself. I'll drop you back here?" Lex had stood while speaking and brushed his hand down the front of his fitted shirt, dipping under the waistband of his dark pants in a pretense of removing invisible wrinkles.

 

Tomas followed the movement avidly, "It would be my pleasure."

 

The blonde crinkled her nose and flashed an insincere smile, "We'll drive you." She rubbed up against Tomas, "I have to go potty first."

 

Pushing away from the table, Victoria started to follow her, "Wait, I'll go with you," winking at Lex and leaving him with Tomas.

 

Watching the two women leave, Lex told Tomas, "Don't bother" and started walking out.

 

Tomas stopped him, grasping his arm. "But you are ill." He continued in a lower voice, "You know, you are very attractive to me."

 

"Not tonight Tomas, bad timing."

 

"Another night?"

 

"What about Brigitte?"

 

"I think she wants me for my money."

 

Lex smiled gently and pulled away, only to lean back and whisper in Tomas' ear, "It's A. J. Luthor in the book, A for Alexander, but just Lex to you. Give me a call."  Not waiting for a response, Lex turned and strolled out of the bar knowing Tomas was watching every step. He paused outside and glanced up at the neon sign above the door of the Formosa Cafe.

 

...

 

Back in his dimly lit apartment, nursing a scotch, Lex watched as his internal pageant of self-pity paraded by waving heartlessly. There was the dead infant brother, followed closely by his beloved dead mother. Bringing up the rear was his unmourned dead father in prison garb wearing a sign saying PATRICIDE/MATRICIDE. It was a short parade, his family never very populous on this earth.

 

His father's conviction consumed the family fortune and the remaining debts cut short his hope of completing his degree or remaining in Metropolis. In his despair, it seemed only the discovery of his half-brother, Lucas Dunleavy, left him with any options. A few years older, his morally bankrupt brother had established himself on the periphery of the LA art scene. He needed someone charming to play up to clients, and his newly orphaned younger brother fit the bill despite, or perhaps because of, his unique appearance. The years passed, somehow, and here he was wishing for sleep after yet another evening in hell.

 

 

***

 

Chapter 4

 

 

"Formosa." The dream whisper woke the dark-haired man. Rubbing his eyes, he wrinkled his nose and then turned his head to smile at the wall collage. Still sleep-dazed, he pushed himself up off the grand piano he was resting on, pulling the patchwork quilt with him.  He stumbled to the bookcase and extracted an old book, 'Maps of the World'. "Hmmm, China Taiwan Formosa...Formosa." He blinked in surprise, "I'm in love with a Chinese girl."

 

...

 

 

Positioning the half-ton boulder just so, the increasingly rumpled young man then placed several other hundred-pound rocks atop it. Finally placing a few palm-sized pebbles in a pattern only he could discern, he stepped back and nodded in satisfaction.  Retrieving one of his collage faces, he placed it in a cranny of the sculpture and sprinkled some nearby dry leaves over it in as if ritually summoning the owner of the face to his garden.

 

 

 

...

 

 

"I have something to tell you..." Lex woke from his dream of a sad little boy with red curls when the phone rang. "Yeah?"

 

"Buenos dias, Lex."

 

"Who is this...Could it be Tomas?" Lex's voice had a sexy rasp to it that he could blame on too many tumblers of scotch the previous night. "What can I do for you, Tomas?"

 

 

...

 

 

Seated in the sunroom, surrounded by a jungle of potted plants, an older woman played the tuba while the young man accompanied her on the trumpet. His exuberant notes paused as he realized the woman had stopped playing and was staring at him.

 

"What?"

 

"Something's changed. You sound different, Kal-El."

 

"Clark. You know I prefer that you call me Clark, Lara. How do I sound different?" Despite his objection to the name, he spoke kindly to the woman, if woman was the right term. 'She' was a holographic construct containing the memory patterns of his biological mother, mixed with some behavior patterns from his adoptive mother and even his great-aunt Ruby.  Sometimes even he forgot she wasn't *real*, the simulation was so detailed and appearing solid.  The only drawback was she could not leave the house or the immediate vicinity, the strength of the illusion fading the farther it got from the ship in the basement.

 

Lara had helped raise him, along with his adoptive parents, after they discovered the octagonal key would activate the ship, that same ship that had arrived in a hail of meteors all those years ago. Home-schooled for years as he learned to handle his strength and speed, Lara was often his only companion while his parents were out working on their organic herb farm. Now, with his parents gone, she was again his sole companion, when he activated her.

 

"It's your tone. What's her name?" Lara gave Clark a sweet smile and waited for his answer.

 

"I don't know."

 

"You pictured her. Finally!"

 

"And you know I don't believe all that stuff about Jor-El having a vision and going off to find you!"

 

"It wasn't just him. Your grandfather found your grandmother and told her about the mole on her back before he could have seen it. It's real, a gift of the Els."

 

"Maybe it was easier to believe back on Krypton. Why would it work with a human?"

 

"You just need a little more faith. Why don't we play the Verde now? Maybe that will help your memory."

 

The two picked up their instruments, one real, the other virtual, and proceeded to play in vibrant harmony.

 

 

...

 

 

"Now, you know I have rules, I insist I pay for my meal," Lex smiled across the table at Tomas.  The light and airy atmosphere of the restaurant complemented Lex who almost shimmered in his sky-blue silk shirt. His skin that appeared so pale and ethereal at night took on the more substantial tones of ivory in the sunlight. He held his head proudly, indifferent to any stares from other diners, who were no doubt curious about his complete lack of hair. 

 

"It makes me very happy to be generous to someone so...attractive."

 

"It makes you happy to have someone feel obligated later?"

 

"No, no this is not true. You are an independent man, yes?" Tomas protested.

 

"I've just had people take advantage of me in the past." Lex said quietly, lowering his head with a slight frown.

 

Tomas feeling the need to lighten the mood began again. "So, what does make you happy?"

 

"Well, my passion is...abstract art," Lex shyly confessed, rewarding Tomas with a brilliant smile.

 

Tomas was stunned for a moment but then eagerly replied, "Wonderful! A collector!"

 

"Oh, I wish. It just means a lot to me."

 

Tomas was leaning towards Lex over the small table. "You must be very sensitive."

 

Lex knew how to play up his perceived fragility and moving closer to Tomas he whispered, "I am."

 

 

...

 

 

Clark walked into the kitchen and hung a red silk banner with gold Chinese characters on the hook above the door.

 

"That's lovely dear, what does it say?" Lara had appeared by the sink.

 

"Welcome great love. But then again, it might say something about acupressure I'm not exactly sure. I picked it up after I stopped that robbery downtown."

 

Lara laughed. "Oh, Jor-El would have loved to see you today. He said he saw me in a vision and crossed half the planet to find me."

 

"So I have been told, about 5294 times now," was the grinning retort.

 

"Let me see those pictures you made of her."

 

Clark retrieved his collages and displayed them for Lara. "I filled in the hair for this one with pencil and this one shows she had a lot of fantastic thoughts so I put the trees exploding out of her head here to represent it. This one here is the closest approximation, especially if squinting your left eye and slanting the picture a little to the right."

 

"Why doesn't this one have any hair?"

 

"The hair just never seems quite right. Maybe I'll get more later on."

 

"Well, they have a lot of character, but they don't look Chinese."

 

 

...

 

 

"Tomas, I didn't realize you were so funny." Lex had opted for a cup of coffee for dessert while Tomas had ordered a sticky sweet pastry.

 

"Mmmm?" Tomas was busily stuffing his mouth and licking his fingers.

 

Lex struggled to keep his smile pleasant and come up with an innocuous comment, "You seem so...sophisticated."

 

"Really? Oh, yes!" Tomas finished chewing as he spoke and wiped his face off with the liberally spotted napkin he had tucked into his shirt collar. "Listen, I want you to come and watch me play."

 

"Polo," replied Lex flatly.

 

Tomas didn't notice that Lex's enthusiasm did not match his own. "Sure, polo. You must come with me when I play the polo this Sunday in Palm Springs!"

 

"Well, I'd love to see you ride, but right now I have truck problems to deal with. Do you believe what new brakes cost? It's all the driving we do in LA." Lex rose from his chair and prepared to take his leave, dropping several bills on the table to cover his portion of the check.

 

"I think I must take you to pick up your truck," was the gallant offer from Tomas, just as Lex expected.

 

"Thank you Tomas, you're such a gentleman." Lex rewarded Tomas with another dazzling smile, managing to look up into Tomas' face despite the fact that at 6 foot tall he was just an inch shorter than Tomas. "You know what? The shop is quite near to my favorite art gallery. I'll take you to see a wonderful painting."

 

 

 

***

 

Chapter 5

 

 

In the sunlit plaza, a troupe of street performers was entertaining a small crowd with a sax player marionette and a goateed youth with sunglasses capering and strutting in the background. An older black man played the saxophone accompanied by a wild-haired young man on a set of drums. Clark held the strings as the miniature version of Charlie Parker bopped along with the music while 'playing' his instrument. Grinning at the assembled children as they applauded, Clark had the marionette take a bow before handing around his leather wide-brimmed hat for tips.

 

As the crowd dispersed and the players were cleaning up, Clark called them together. "Boys, there's something I have to tell you. I'm going to China."

 

The group waited expectantly for Clark to continue.

 

"Rumor has it that somebody I'm going to know for a very, very long time lives in Taiwan, China." Having placed the marionette in its case, Clark picked up his pictures and handed them out to his friends. "Have a look. Now I know what you're going to say, she doesn't look Chinese."

 

"You know she's supposed to have two matching eyebrows?" was the dancer's contribution.

 

Clark waved down the objection. "This is just an approximation. Actual size and shape may vary."

 

The drummer frowned at the picture he was holding, "This is really diverse. Something tells me this chick likes to bowl, man. I can guarantee you."

 

"Well, if this is the woman he's supposed to be with, he's just going to have to get used to it," noted the dancer.

 

The sax player had not spoken up yet. "Yeah, buddy. She's the one," he said with a wink and a nod. He placed his saxophone in his shopping cart, next to a potted lemon tree and a few items of clothing, and pushed the cart away.

 

 

...

 

 

Victoria and her assistant managed to get the 'wonderful painting' hung just before Tomas and Lex walked into the gallery. Lex had not been able to give them much warning that he was bringing Tomas in for the setup.

 

Now, Lex stood in rapt study before the large abstract on the gallery wall.  Behind him, the gallery owner spoke quietly with Tomas about the paintings features in obscure artistic terms like 'dark', 'tortured' and 'textural statement'. Tomas just nodded, "I'm learning great art at his hands," he confided, pointing to Lex. Too busy watching Lex to pay attention to owner's chatter, Tomas moved up next to him.

 

Tomas gestured to the painting, "You know...this is fascinating to me. You, at first meeting, seem such a tough man. Now with these paintings you show your sensitive side. I think I must buy you this painting."

 

Lex turned and made the necessary objection, "Absolutely not, Tomas! I could never accept it."

 

"I must insist."

 

"Tomas, I don't know you and you don't know me."

 

"This is something I want to do. What good is money if you can't spend it to please yourself? And buying you this will please me!"

 

"But Tomas, this painting is 14,000 dollars!"

 

Tomas flinched but after looking at Lex from top to bottom again, he called the gallery owner over.

 

...

 

Waiting in the darkened lounge, Lex watched as the gallery owner sauntered into the room, grabbing several long-stemmed carnations from the arrangement at the door and presenting them to the hostess, a passing waitress and then finally to Lex.

 

"God, Lucas, you never stop do you," Lex sighed, rolling his eyes at his half brother's behavior.

 

Lucas sat down and slid an envelope stuffed with bills towards Lex, "Well, unlike you dear brother, I have other uses for my admirers than cash." He lowered his voice, "We're good together. Did you see the naildown? It was a thing of wonder and beauty."

 

Lex nodded, his attention focused on counting his share.

 

"And when you gave me that look like I might have a shot at you...the testosterone was flowing. He had to kick my ass. He had to buy the painting, he felt good about it." Lucas was running on a high from the sale.

 

Lex tucked the envelope away in an inside pocket of his jacket and responded sourly, "God bless testosterone."

 

"14 grand, 14 grand...I almost peed my pants! I thought it was supposed to be 7?"

 

"He smelled like 14." Lex grimaced and picked up his coffee cup.

 

"Good nose." Lucas moved closer. "Hey listen. You're really, really something." He eyed Lex and put his hand on his forearm.

 

Lex pulled his arm away, "You're a breath away from blowing a fine professional relationship."

 

"What's the deal? It's not as if anyone knows we're brothers. We have two different last names and we certainly don't look anything alike." Lucas looked over Lex's shoulder, his eyes following the path of an attractive customer as she sat at the bar. Lex raised his eyebrows. Lucas shrugged, "Hey, you break my heart and I have to find a substitute. See you around."

 

"So go fetch," directed Lex with a cynical laugh and he got up to leave. As he walked out the door, he saw Lucas, reflected in the mirror-like glass, moving in on his new target. The girl would never know what hit her.

 

 

 

***

 

Chapter 6

 

"You're just worried about closing the deal on that Tomas kid."

 

Alone again in his dark apartment, Lex nursed a scotch while he talked with Victoria on the phone. "I don't know Vic, I keep having these dreams. I keep thinking about green...ivy...I'm lying in some ivy, I feel like a little boy...and then I don't know what happens next.

 

"It's probably nothing." Victoria made soothing sounds and Lex aimed a pout at the phone.

 

"I don't know. I keep waking up with this warm, peaceful feeling," Lex sighed. "And then I *really* wake up and realize who I am and what I am and it all runs away."

 

"Before I met Raoul, I had a dream about a Persian in a Mercedes," supplied Victoria.

 

Lex remembered the young girl who befriended him when he was still Lionel Luthor's son and she was Victoria Hardwick, heir to the Hardwick wealth. They'd both changed so much since then. "There's every girl's fantasy."

 

"Well don't knock it. He became my husband for eight glorious months before we split under very lucrative terms."

 

"Marrying them for their money...it seems so old-fashioned." Lex swirled his Scotch before taking another sip.

 

"Sometimes old-fashioned is the only thing that works. That's why it was in fashion for so long," retorted Victoria.

 

"Did you ever think you could meet someone and fall in love and be with them just for love?"

 

"Gawd, Lex, really!" protested Victoria.

 

"It does happen."

 

"It just doesn't happen." Victoria began to rant. "Have you ever actually known anyone to be in love for more than 90 days? You, your brother, and the kids you grew up with? It's impossible. Perfectly good women and men attach themselves to pigs for eternity on the basis of 90 days of hormonal imbalance."

 

"It's not always that dark," said Lex quietly, wishing he could convince himself.

 

"Money, connections, real estate, gene pool, short life expectancy.  Those might be reasons, but never love," continued Victoria.

 

"Yeah, I guess." Lex set his glass down and sat slumped without the energy to get a refill.

 

"What's wrong with you?" Victoria stopped her diatribe and focused instead on her friend's depression, noticeable even over the phone.

 

"Oh, I have that close tomorrow and all over 7 lousy bills that doesn't even last me a couple of months," Lex replied, trying to make light of his moodiness.

 

"You'll do fine. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" prompted Victoria one last time.

 

Lex smiled sadly even knowing Victoria couldn't see him. "Still breathing."

 

"That's all that matters. Now do good and remember; they always deserve it."

 

"Good night, Vic." Lex put the phone down and made his way to his lonely bed.

 

...

 

 

Lying in ivy looking up through the tattered lace of the treetops, with his coffee cup on his chest, Clark felt a leaf fall into his open hand.  He loved the sun, but he also loved the hide-and-seek play of the light over his skin as the soft breeze sifted the leaves above. The sunbeams caressed him as they moved, as though the sunlight was kissing him and when he closed his eyes, he could dream it was his love placing those kisses so carefully. Sad blue eyes seeking joy, a well-formed nose, creamy skin that seemed too smooth to be real, a mouth that needed to be kissed into smiles, they all shared his reverie. His face glowed as he thought, "I have seen my true love, now I just need to find her."

 

 

...

 

 

Lex shrugged on an oversized white shirt over a loose t-shirt and sweats, making sure the colors emphasized his natural pallor. Adopting a soft, weak attitude, he checked the artificially enhanced circles under his eyes in the mirror one last time and then answered the door. He was presented with a dozen red roses and a smiling Latin face. "Tomas, what beautiful flowers," Lex said softly as he let Tomas enter his apartment.

 

"You're welcome. But you are not ready?"

 

"You look so nice." Lex closed the door and moved into the room. "I tried to tell you on the phone I feel just horrible tonight, but I still wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could stay here, order in, watch cable?"

 

"But of course," agreed Tomas while rubbing Lex's shoulder, "I will take care of you."

 

"Thank you."

 

Looking around the room, Tomas pointed to the wall, "Aha, there is your beautiful painting!"

 

"I love it. Thank you again for buying it for me, it was so extravagant."

 

"It looks fantastic here. It was my pleasure to have spent a great deal of money on you." Tomas moved closer, touching the tip of Lex's nose with his finger and then bending to kiss him.

 

Lex slid out of the attempted embrace, "Yeah. What do you want to eat? And you *must* let me pay this time."

 

Tomas shrugged, a little frustrated. "I have no preference."

 

"Japanese then, it rebuilds your natural antibodies. I've been reading that." Lex picked up the menu by the phone and started dialing while Tomas paced and used the breath spray he took out of his pocket. "Hi, I'd like to place an order. Number 7, number 14, a California roll. Deliver to 247 South Pittman. Thanks." Tomas came up behind Lex as he hung up and began to nibble the back of his neck, breathing heavily.

 

Hunching his shoulders, Lex pulled away from Tomas and protested, "Tomas, I'm sorry. I told you I don't feel very well!"

 

"Forgive me, I am carried away," admitted Tomas sheepishly. "You are ill?"

 

"Yes, I am."

 

"Let me help you." Tomas started to rub Lex's shoulders and he again pulled away and headed for the couch. "You know, I'm achy all over. I'm just going to sit on the couch."

 

Tomas followed and bent over Lex, "Can I get you something? A pill?"

 

Lex looked up and gave Tomas a wan smile. "Aspirin. It's in the cabinet in the bathroom."

 

"Right away." Tomas raised Lex's hand to his lips for a kiss. "You will feel better."

 

Tomas rummaged through the cabinet with no success and called to Lex, "I don't see it."

 

Slouched on the couch, Lex called back in a dull voice minus any inflection, "I must have left it in the bedroom. I'll get it."

 

"No...no, I will find it." Tomas entered Lex's bedroom and began to look on the top of his bureau. He discovered a handful of pamphlets on sexually transmitted diseases and a wide variety of prescriptions in addition to the missing aspirin bottle.  He grabbed the aspirin and turned to exit the room only to see an oxygen tank with mask parked by the side of the door. He inched out of the room, making sure not to touch anything and wiping his hands on his jacket. He presented the bottle to Lex.

 

"You found it. My bedroom is such a mess..." Lex smiled at Tomas in thanks.

 

"I did not think so, you are sick." Tomas had stepped back from Lex after delivering the aspirin, continuing to scrub his hands on his jacket and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

 

"It's so wonderful you're here tonight. I need someone here, I really do." Lex pulled Tomas down onto the couch and laid his head on Tomas' shoulder. Tomas flinched.

 

"I'm so sorry you are sick."

 

Lex grabbed Tomas' hand and began to gush in melodramatic tones, "I've been praying that someone like you would come into my life and then I met you and no matter what I said you insisted on buying that painting. I can't believe somebody could care about me that much. You must need someone too."

 

"I'm sorry. I forgot I need to make a phone call." Tomas jumped up and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Hello Juana, I received a message from you, there is something wrong? There has been a break-in at the house? That is outrageous!" Tomas paced back and forth, agitated. "I must go back to Buenos Aires tomorrow. I must leave now I guess and talk to the police about my belongings. Yes...yes, I will leave now." Tomas hung up the phone and considered Lex, waiting for him on the couch.

 

Lex blinked up at Tomas with an innocent expression of dismay, "What's wrong?"

 

 

...

 

 

Clark regarded himself in the mirror as he finished shaving. "Do you speak English?" He practiced his dazzling grin. "You're very beautiful. Will you come to America with me?"

 

 

***

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Standing in front of the mirror outside the dressing room of his favorite second-hand shop, Lex checked the fit of a suit jacket. Victoria came up behind him, tweaked the shoulders and brushed down the back before she shook her head no. "This suit may not do it for you, but I'm sure there's another one that'll be fine. God, I just wish you'd share your secret for eternal youth. Wheatgrass shakes, sheep testicles, what is it? We're the same age, but you look ten years younger, like you're frozen in time. Just don't tell me it's the exercise. I couldn't tolerate the 2 hours a day you spend on those carefully hidden muscles," teased Victoria. Lex just smirked and shook his head.

 

Grabbing a sequined dress off a nearby rack, she continued her discussion with Lex. "OK, back to business. What I know is sketchy. I know he's not too old and the family money is from gas and oil in Texas. I know that he owns several shopping malls and uh...just like Tomas, he's in LA for something he can't get at home without causing a scandal." She headed into the dressing room. "Oh yeah...he's eccentric and odd in a thoroughly uninteresting way."

 

"Does he save his toenail clippings like the last one?" asked Lex sardonically as he flipped through silk shirts on another rack.

 

"I'm sure it's something like that." Victoria's voice hitched as she attempted to squeeze into the tight gown. "I tried to get out of this court date so I could go along with you to meet him, but I can't."

 

"Well, you'll probably get the next one. This way you get your cut and don't have to get within groping distance." Lex abandoned the rack and looked over the door at Victoria, grinning. "So what's the play?"

 

"Can't help you much there, honey. If it was a woman he was looking for it would big hair and makeup...lots of makeup. Texans are my specialty after Persians." Victoria gave a little wiggle and winked at Lex.

 

Lex's cynicism re-emerged. "I guess it can't be too hard. I'll just play the usual. You act like they bore you and they chase you. You seem to like them and they leave."

 

"It's not that it's hard. It's just the better the play, the better the backend and the more money for you and moi," Victoria sympathetically agreed.

 

"So what's his name?"

 

"Umm, that's the one thing I don't know."

 

"Victoria! I'm renegotiating!"

 

. . .

 

 

Stopping on the stairs to watch the evening rain falling in cascades, Clark reflected on his flight to see his parents today. After helping them with the chores, he had joined them for dinner. They were used to hearing about his rescues and knew he took care not to expose his identity, but when he told them of his upcoming trip to find the woman of his dreams they were concerned. He was finally able to convince them that he would be careful and that he would not expose his secrets until he was absolutely sure she was the one. Shrugging off his thoughts, he continued downstairs with his pillow and quilt and climbed atop the piano to dream.

 

 

. . .

 

Lex closed his sketchbook and placed it on the nightstand, turning off the light. Lying back in bed, he raised his arm into the light coming from the streetlamp outside, watching the play of the raindrop shadows on the pale canvas of his hand. Bemused, he allowed the hand to drift down and composed himself for sleep.

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

 

Two young boys play in a stream, the air and sounds muted. The pale redhead trips and scrapes his palm on a rock. The smaller tanned boy with black curls takes the edge of his shirt and dabs at the cut. They take each other's hands and continue their wading...

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

Lex wakes with the morning sun and looks at the palm of his hand, puzzled.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Clark rolls off the piano, scrubs his face with a hand and examines the edge of his shirt, looking for something that isn't there.

 

 

. . .

 

 

After flying to LA, Clark made his way to the airport to wait for his flight to Taiwan. He felt more comfortable arriving in Taiwan by conventional means in case of inquiries at Immigration. Sitting in the lounge, he suddenly noticed the book of local tourist attractions a nearby traveler was flipping through and asked to borrow it.  He turned back a few pages to the section displaying the Formosa Cafe.

 

. . .

 

 

"Mom, Dad, I'm just letting you know I'm not going to China after all. The place I'm looking for is right here in Los Angeles. I'll call you later. Love you both." Clark hung up the phone after leaving his message and headed for his new destination with ticket refund in hand. Stopping outside the historic landmark, he was pleased to find it matched his dream image. "I got her."

 

. . .

 

 

Lex pulled up in his truck outside the Formosa and called to check in with Victoria. "Yes, I'm right outside. Will you stop worrying? How many rich, eccentric, young, pathetic Texans do you think are going to be at the Formosa on a Tuesday afternoon?"

 

 

. . .

 

 

Entering the Formosa, Clark took a stool at the bar and ordered a beer.  Another man entered right after him and asked the bartender in a drawl where the telephone was located. Clark perked up at the familiar accent and greeted the newcomer, "Hey, are you from Texas? How're you doing?"

 

"Oh, can't complain. Hoping my date is going to show up."

 

"Same here."

 

"Where you from?"

 

"San Antonio."

 

"Ah, good deal. San Angelo. Brad Mossberger." The older man offered a handshake that Clark was happy to accept.

 

"Clark Kent. Pleased to meet you."

 

"Likewise. See you around." The other Texan waved and headed back to the phone.

 

Clark shook his head at the coincidence of meeting another Texan at that particular location and then turned his attention to the bartender. Pulling out his pictures, he asked, "Excuse me sir, I was wondering if you have seen this woman?"

 

The bartender gave Clark an odd look and replied, "No."

 

"How about this one?" Clark shuffled another picture to the top of the pile.

 

"Nope."

 

"This one? It's actually the same woman, does this look familiar? Actually it could be any of these."

 

"No. Are you related to this woman?"

 

"Not quite yet exactly..." The young man who had just seated himself two stools away caught Clark's attention. He looked cool and elegant, the lavender shade of his silk shirt highlighting his pale creamy skin. His lack of hair did not detract from his looks; rather it enhanced his exotic appearance. The bartender moved away to take his order.

 

"I'd like an iced coffee with a straw please."

 

Clark stared, transfixed by the profile from his dreams. The man seemed to gleam, shine, even glow in this low light and pulled Clark's complete attention to his face. Clark found himself praying that he would turn his head so he could see his eyes, his mouth, and the rest of his oh-so-perfect self.

 

Lex felt the weight of the stare and turned his head to scan from the floor up. He noted black cowboy boots, black leather pants, a cream raw silk shirt open over a white A-shirt, shoulder-length curly dark hair, fashionable stubble and a moustache. Stunned-looking brilliant green eyes over high cheekbones completed the picture and Lex decided that at least the scenery was worth the effort. He ventured a greeting. "Hi."

 

Clark, still entranced, was only able to manage a small wave back and "Mmwmf."

 

"Do I know you?" Lex tried again.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Clark mumbled, "I think so. Maybe." Those were the eyes and the mouth and she wasn't a she, she was a he and he was gorgeous and...

 

"Are you here to meet someone?" Lex was keeping his tones soft and gentle. He knew that the young man he was supposed to meet was supposed to be eccentric, but this one seemed almost otherworldly, not just odd. He was afraid to make any sudden moves in case he frightened him away.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"So am I. I'm thinking...it might be you?"

 

"Yeah," was accompanied by an ever-widening smile.

 

"Are you from Texas?"

 

"Sure," and the smile became a blinding grin.

 

"Well, here I am." Lex slid off the stool and walked towards Clark, which caused him to scramble to his feet and reveal an imposing stature. Lex looked up into a blushing face, bemused by his attraction.

 

Clark felt like a bumbling fool. He reached for his beer and took a quick gulp before stammering, "Uh...I'm sorry, this is a little odd for me..."

 

Lex felt a need to reassure this awkward giant, "Oh, listen, it's okay, don't read anything into it. I was just on my way over from the west side and I thought you might need a 'welcome to LA' drink."

 

"Thank you, that's very...very friendly of you," Clark's ingrained manners came to his rescue. "Um...my God, you're so familiar to me."

 

Extending his hand, "I'm Lex."

 

"I'm Clark." Shaking Lex's hand, Clark found himself reluctant to let it go.

 

They stood looking at each other, unsure of what was happening between them. Finally, Lex made the first move, pulling out his wallet to pay his tab. "Well, it was great meeting you. I'm just on my way to Marina..."

 

"You're leaving?" Clark was shaken. Lex couldn't leave yet, they needed to talk and he needed time to understand how the love of his life transmuted into a male.

 

Lex ducked his head and turned to leave, "I just had time to pop in. It's so nice to meet a man from Texas."

 

"We...we're full of surprises." Clark tilted his head and tried to get Lex to look him in the eyes. "If you leave, you might miss them."

 

"I'm not surprised by much."

 

"You can't go." Clark straightened up again and spoke with more confidence. "We have a lot to talk about."

 

"Well, I guess I could make a call." Lex pulled out his cell phone and moved a few steps away. "Victoria, I'm hung up here. I think so. Listen, I'll catch up with you later. Remember, I really want you to see the painting. Bye." Lex suppressed his smile of triumph before turning back to Clark. "I'm all yours."

 

 

. . .

 

 

Enjoying the bright sunlight, Lex and Clark strolled down the tree-lined avenue while Lex pointed out the sights. "This is Sycamore Avenue. I live just back there on Pittman."

 

Clark looked around and pointed up, "Beautiful trees."

 

"Pretty. They lose their leaves and that's how we know it's winter. I don't know what kind they are though."

 

"Well, they're sycamore trees." Clark favored Lex with a wrinkled nose smile.

 

"Oh, I get it. Sycamore trees, Sycamore Avenue. I'm learning things from you already." Lex returned the smile.

 

"I must be the man you're waiting for; I know all these useful things about the names of trees and the like." Clark took a few more steps then tipped his head back. "Look up."

 

When Lex stopped to look up. Clark stopped next to him and held out his arm. "No, keep walking. Take my arm...it's not really scary. It's like jumping with your eyes closed." They walked a little further, silently looking up into the trees and blue sky. "To me, it's almost like flying." Slowly Clark dropped his arm and they returned to earth, Lex studying this odd man who flew down streets when others merely walked.

 

A little uncomfortable with Lex's regard, Clark asked, "Did I hear you say something about a painting?"

 

"Yes, I paint. One of those starving artists you hear about."

 

"Really? I'd love to see your work."

 

"You like art?"

 

"Oh yeah. I'm an artist. I stack rocks."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah, they're these...cairns. These monument kind of things." Clark crossed the sidewalk to the road and started searching in the gutter. "What you do is get a bunch of rocks..." Clark was picking up an assortment of small rocks and pebbles, "and you stack them up..." he pulled Lex to the curb and urged him to sit, "and you cram stuff in the cracks and it's like a work of art. Want to see?"

 

Fascinated, Lex nodded. "Sure."

 

Pleased, Clark sat next to him on the curb. "First, I have to get my Elvis rock stacking mojo going, well..." ending with a vibrato sound and rattling a few of the rocks in his hand, "and I'm going to need your hand." He gently pulled Lex's hand away from his side and placed it on his own for support, palm upwards. He positioned Lex's slender elegant fingers carefully, bent forward and softly blew across his palm, as if to remove any possible dust. Lex just barely restrained the shiver that moved down his spine.

 

Silently, Clark examined his selection of rocks and choosing one, set it in the center of Lex's hand. He arranged its position with soft touches until it satisfied him and then he placed a second rock next to it. Lex found himself holding his breath as he watched this gentle giant work with careful, graceful movements. His fingertips would glide along the side of the rocks as he moved them and Lex could feel his breath tickle his hand as he came closer to examine an angle. The stack of small rocks grew in Lex's palm as he watched the man, noting his thick dark lashes, his golden tan, glossy black curls and the moustache that looked so soft above his full red lips pursed in concentration.

 

It seemed as if they were in a place of splendid isolation, just the two of them. Lex could hear nothing beyond the clicking rocks and a slight tuneless whistle as Clark worked. He could feel nothing but the sunlight, the soft glancing brushes of Clark's fingers and the curl of desire deep inside his body, see nothing but this man and his complete concentration on his task. Finally, the last stone was in place, and Lex felt Clark's attention return to him and suddenly he could breathe again. He was thankful they were seated so his intense arousal would not be immediately apparent to Clark.

 

Clark gently pulled his supporting hand away and looked at Lex with a radiant grin and gleaming emerald eyes. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Lex's response.

 

"Beautiful," sighed Lex, knowing he wasn't just referring to the sculpture in his hand.

 

"See, I made it but...I didn't make it. I mean I didn't make the rocks, but I arranged them according to this moment. And the shape of your hand..." Clark's finger stroked along the outer edge of Lex's hand from the wrist to the tip of his little finger, "informed the way that it grew." Clark looked into Lex's face, so close to his. "Look at it."

 

"I see it," Lex whispered, staring at Clark's face.

 

"No, I mean really look at it." Clark moved one arm behind Lex so he could lean towards him, placing his head next to Lex's so they could share the same perspective. Lex found breathing almost impossible again. "See it's got that shape in there..." pointing to one of the stones, "and it goes down and around..." his hand moved to highlight another area, "and if you look with one eye maybe you can see a face, maybe some lips or some eyes..." Clark turned his head and his words halted as he realized Lex's lips were a few short inches away from his. Eyes wide, he wet his lips unconsciously before blushing and moving away again. He grasped Lex's fingers and tilted his hand, "Say goodbye," and the rocks cascaded to the ground.

 

Lex drew in a quick breath, "Oh." It startled him how much loss he felt now that the impromptu sculpture was gone.

 

Clark smiled gently and stood, "Couldn't last forever."

 

"No," agreed Lex. He got up from the curb, thankful that his reaction had subsided enough to remain unnoticed. He brushed his hands of and changed the subject, "Well, why don't you tell me about San whatever?"

 

"San Antonio," Clark reminded him as they resumed walking.

 

"Is it nice?"

 

"Is it nice? Yeah, it’s nice. It's...well it's...its own world, really. You know every time I leave there and come back I get the feeling I'm coming back to something new that I haven't really discovered anywhere else." Clark waved his arms enthusiastically. "It's kind of hard to explain with words really. It's like an old woman who's lived long enough to know who she is. There's ghosts there, I mean really, there are and if you listen at night you can hear them partying, having a great old time."

 

"Sounds amazing."

 

Clark began walking backwards in front of Lex so he could see his face. "Most people who go there would just see the new malls, potholes in the streets and a lot of lawns that need watering. The really cool stuff is hiding out and you really have to know where to look for it."

 

Lex felt oddly defensive. "Well, I like it here."

 

"It fits you." Clark slowed to a stop.

 

Lex didn't understand why he was angry at that thought. "Is that like an insult?"

 

"No...no it isn't..."

 

"Well, I don't think LA fits me. I just said I like it." Lex tried to calm down and get the conversation back under his control. He refused to give into the impulse to stamp his foot in emphasis.

 

"Well, I like it too," Clark mollified. They started down the street again.

 

"So, I guess you're here on business?"

 

Clark glanced at Lex, "Actually, I was going to China, but I decided to stay here instead."

 

"That makes no sense to me." Lex was puzzled. Why would he simply abandon his business trip?

 

"Let's just say there really wasn't any reason for me to go."

 

"I guess you must be worried about your business being out of the country and all."

 

"Not really. My...mother's left in charge of that. It'll be alright."

 

"That's unusual."

 

"Well, she's not like most mothers..."

 

Suddenly, a loud bark from a parked car nearby startled Lex and the smooth soles of his shoes did nothing to stop him from sliding, catching himself on a nearby tree and scraping his palm. Hissing in pain, he examined the cut, only to have Clark step close to him and use the edge of his open shirt to blot up Lex's blood.

 

Lex looked at Clark in shock. "Oh my God." he whispered.

 

"What...what do you mean?" Clark stammered, looking at the blood on his shirt while an elusive memory danced just out of reach.

 

"It's so weird that you did that."

 

"Are you okay?

 

"Why did you do that?" Lex pulled away.

 

"I don't know. I just did it," Clark reached for Lex's hand again.

 

Lex refused to let Clark touch him. "Why did you do that!"

 

"I just did it. Is there something wrong?" Clark didn't know how to respond to Lex's evident distress.

 

Lex examined Clark's puzzled countenance and then shook his head. "No, nothing."

 

***

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

"Hi Mom, Dad? I'm still in LA."

 

"Yes, I did find her. Except it's not a her, it's a him."

 

"No, really, he's the one. And I think he somehow knows me too."

 

"I know I never said I was gay, but considering the fact that I've never...you know I'm not sure I want to discuss this..."

 

"How do we sure what's right for me? Lara told me on Krypton it could be either. I just got into the habit of saying her. Ultimately it's the person, not their gender."

 

"It'll be okay. I'll call you in a couple of days. Love you both."

 

Sitting in his hotel room, Clark put the finishing touches on his latest marionette with a football body, bleach bottle head and soda can arms and legs. After consulting with his new friend, he decided to call directory assistance.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Lex sat on his couch, scotch nearby but untouched. Frowning, he picked up a knife from the light table covered in slides, aimed and threw it at the target across the room. He stared at the phone and debated whether to retrieve the knife or call directory assistance.

 

"Hello, may I please have the number for the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood? Thank you."

 

Just as the operator starting ringing the hotel, Lex heard the call waiting tone and picked up the call. "Hello?"

 

"Lex?"

 

"Who is this?"

 

"It's Clark."

 

"Oh, hi. How are you?"

 

"I'm fine..."

 

Lex suddenly wondered, "How did you get my number?"

 

"I called 411 and gave a cross street of Sycamore and Pittman and..."

 

"Look, Clark I'm just on my way out the door."

 

"I was hoping I could persuade you..."

 

"I'm meeting a friend at the Formosa."

 

"Just a minute, there's something we really need to talk about, about you falling and cutting yourself. We should get together and talk about this. It's important."

 

"You could meet me there."

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

"So, Lex says you're from Texas." Lucas sat next to Lex and across from Clark. He had his arm across the back of the booth making it clear he felt Lex was here with him, not Clark.

 

"Yeah, San Antonio," Clark confirmed, trying to keep it light.

<;p class=MsoPlainText> 

"I drove through Texas once, fast. It took forever."

 

"It's a drive." Clark was still agreeable, although it was getting difficult.

 

"Just out there on the 10 East, you know what I mean? You just drive and then you run into all that weird shit. They're all out there in their mobile homes," Lucas sneered.

 

Lex thought it was time to change the subject. "Clark is on his way to China. He just thought he'd hang out in LA for a few days."

 

"Oh, China. Cool."

 

"Actually, my travel plans changed. I got bad information and had to cancel my trip. I figured rather than heading back to my double-wide I'd see what the big city could teach me."

 

"Cool." Lucas winked at Lex.

 

"Am I missing something I could find here?" Clark narrowed his eyes and looked at Lex, waiting for a clue to his behavior with Lucas.

 

Lex tried again to defuse the situation. "So what do you want to drink?"

 

Deciding to give Lex another chance, Clark smiled. "A beer would be great. Thanks."

 

"Lucas, another? You guys stay put, I'll get the drinks." Lex left for the bar.

 

Clark and Lucas watched Lex until Clark asked, "So, how long have you known Lex?"

 

"Oh, since...we went to Parsons, an art school, together. He's the artist. I just run a gallery, do some consulting, East Coast."

 

"He mentioned he painted."

 

"He's killer. Very, very private. Totally primal. Kind of clinging to himself in a tortured West Coast way. Know what I mean." Lucas fell into faux art phrasing as he continued to watch Lex. "He's about to happen, majorly happen. He just needs a break."

 

"He's something special."

 

A sly smile slithered across Lucas' face. "We've known each other for a long time now. More than lovers really, partners."

 

Lex returned and passed out the drinks, "Well, drink up boys. Might be a giant fiery meteorite headed right for us, you wouldn't want to leave any in your glass."

 

After a stunned moment, Clark chuckled, "Meteor. Hell, if there was a meteor coming I'd get me a reclining chair and make sure I had one of them drinks with a little umbrella in it..."

 

Lex grabbed an umbrella off the tray of a passing waiter and plopped it into the neck of Clark's beer bottle. "There."

 

With a sputter of laughter, Clark raised the bottle and clinked it against Lex's glass, "Alright, good to go! Come on baby, bring it on!"

 

Lex looked at him quizzically, "You ready to end it all?"

 

"Well, you're going, I'm going," was Clark's fatalistic reply. He stared at Lex waiting for the next move.

 

Lucas decided he was next up. "Oh Clark, you are positively gloomy. Must come from hanging out with all those prairie dogs. Ruff, ruff."

 

Lex thought he saw a red flash in Clark's eyes as he leaned towards Lucas. He also thought Lucas was an idiot provoking a man of Clark's size and Lex was waiting for the fireworks he couldn't prevent to begin.

 

Clark's voice was low and menacing. "Lemme ask you a question, Lucas - and you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. D'you think that every last thread of intelligent life has chosen to huddle in either New York or LA? Or do you really believe that-that this soulless sinkhole has anything to do with real life humanity - namely integrity, compassion, dignity? Y'know what, don't answer that, Lucas. Just lemme give you some advice. Next time you're driving through Texas, you better stay clear of all trailer parks. And if you *are* driving through Texas, why don't you do it fast - real, *real* fast." Clark chugged his beer and placed it carefully on the table. "Well, I've had fun." He got up to leave.

 

A shudder ran through Lex at the warning contained in Clark's words. Where Lucas' words were mean and bitter, Clark's were a simple assurance of his intentions. Clark had a quiet strength, a controlled power in him under the 'good old boy' charm and Lex felt it calling to him even as he craved the sweet man he had met earlier today. He stood up and caught Clark's sleeve. "Clark, I didn't drive. Would you take me home?"

 

 

***

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

Clark stepped into Lex's apartment and looked around. "Hey, great place!"

 

Lex thanked him as he closed the door behind them, "I'm glad you like it."

 

Spotting some artwork on a nearby desk, Clark picked up the top item asking, "Are these yours?"

 

"No, just some prints I'm studying." Lex crossed to the couch and perched on the arm as he removed his shoes and socks, then stretched, causing the outline of muscles to ripple under his shirt. "I don't keep my own work lying around. I'm in kind of a down period right now."

 

Clark watched avidly as Lex made himself comfortable, "Hmmm mmm, you must be...pretty serious about this."

 

Lex moved off the arm to sit on the couch, pulling one leg up. "My next project is a sort of performance art touring piece I've been working on. I've been trying to get a grant but it's impossible." He sighed and shook his head. "I've got the spaces lined up and the curators are chomping at the bit, but there's no money."

 

Looking back at the print in his hand, Clark shrugged and set it down before turning to Lex. "Well, maybe...maybe I could help you, somehow." He walked to the chair opposite Lex and sank into it.

 

Lex responded with a thrilled, "Really?"

 

Dazzled by Lex's smile, Clark grinned. "Sure." He looked at the light table next to him and noticed the throwing knife. Picking it up, he raised his eyebrows at Lex in surprise, "I guess so."

 

Lex took the knife from Clark's hand and stood to aim at the log target. "Hostility relief." He released and hit the target perfectly. "When you live in this town you've got to have something or you'll go out of your mind."

 

Clark blinked and gave a wavering smile. "Are you gonna make me stand with my back against the wall, blindfolded, with a cigarette in my mouth?"

 

Amused, Lex lowered his eyelids and purred in a sultry voice, "Only if you beg."

 

Clark's laughing green eyes widened as he grinned and began to plead, "Will you *please* make me stand with my back against the wall, with the blindfold on, and a cigarette in my mouth?"

 

Lex, surprised by the giggle he couldn't suppress at Clark's silliness, stood and walked past his chair into the kitchen, trailing his fingertips across Clark's shoulder along the way. "Do you want something to drink?"

 

Clark nodded his head vigorously, still caught up in his kinky fantasy.

 

"So, I don't know a lot about what you do. Is business good in Texas?" Lex asked from the kitchen area as he pulled two beers from the refrigerator.

 

"Oh, can't complain. It's uh...seasonal." Clark got up and reached to turn on the slide table. "Cool."

 

"And your mother's there, all on her own?" Lex emerged from the kitchen with the drinks.

 

Bending down to look at the slides, Clark answered, "My mother...actually, I don't really have an office. I'm working out of my home right now; it's really a gorgeous place." He started moving the slides around to get a better view. "You should see it, it's very special."

 

Lex came up next to him and handed him his beer. "It's the wave of the future. Phone, fax, net, work at home...leave to play." He sat down in front of the slide table, very close to Clark's leg.

 

"Thanks." Clark accepted the beer and moved away to sit on the arm of the couch. "You seem to know a lot about business. A lot of the creative types that I know are, uh, you know, generally unaware."

 

"Well, I like to keep up with the way the world runs." Lex tipped his head and frowned, "My work is kind of about money and greed and ambition and success."

 

"The basic human desires," agreed Clark quietly.

 

"The bare necessities," Lex declared with a quirk of his lips.

 

Clark shook his head sadly. "I think you need to get out of LA for a while."   

 

"Too late."

 

Clark jumped up and began to pace. "You see, I have this terribly archaic notion that art should be about beauty... and passion... and, well, redefining an imperfect world in a perfect way."

 

"Oh God, we did away with that years ago," was Lex's flippant response. He watched Clark stand, drinking his beer, just watching Lex until he needed to break the uncomfortable silence. "We seem to have gotten away from our earlier purpose."

 

'Which was?" was Clark's rumbled reply.

 

Lex lowered his chin, tilted his head and cut his eyes sideways at Clark, "Flirting."

 

He surprised a laugh from Clark, "Didn't we do away with that...years ago too?"

 

"There's been a revival," sighed Lex theatrically.

 

Clark finished his beer with a gulp and looked for a place to set the bottle down.  He noticed a stand with a carousel projector and putting the bottle down, poked at the buttons.

 

"Do you want to look at pictures?" Lex stood and reached for the light switch.

 

"Sure." Clark turned on the projector and the slides began to flash in sequence on the bare wall above the couch. As he watched Lex walk forward to stand looking at the display, the sight of Lex's skin glowing in the reflected light fascinated him. He picked up the cycling projector and moved it until the pictures shone on Lex, instead of the wall.

 

Lex became aware of the change and turned to look at Clark, his features framed by the brilliant colors flashing on and by him. He began to circle the perimeter of the room slowly while Clark continued to focus the projector on him. As he prowled, he pulled his shirt out of his pants and began to unbutton slowly, the pale skin he revealed becoming the new canvas for Clark to paint with light. His shirt hanging fully open, he began to advance towards Clark, who was still carefully maintaining the focus on Lex.

 

"I seem to be gaining a whole new perspective on the rococo." Clark murmured, intent on the colors flashing across Lex's tightly muscled chest and abdomen. "Did we just blow right by the flirting portion of the evening?" He moved closer, raising his eyes to question Lex.

 

Lex crawled back into the corner of the couch, one leg curled up under him and his arm along the back. "Uh-huh."

 

Carefully placing the projector down so it still illuminated Lex, Clark stepped into the light and knelt on the couch, between Lex's sprawled legs. He curled over Lex, supporting himself on the back of the couch, and slowly nipped along the line of his jaw, his curls falling forward to brush Lex's cheeks. The slow seduction kept Lex breathless with anticipation until their lips finally met. Still gentle, Clark traced the scar on Lex's upper lip with his tongue, then pressed deeper until Lex felt nothing but Clark, tasted nothing but Clark, the moustache amazing soft as it caressed his skin. Large, warm hands traced down Lex's throat to his nipples where they circled before sliding down to graze still lower. The projector continued to paint them with figures of light, clicking away as their breathing quickened.

 

Lex pushed away from Clark's lips to shove his shirt up and place sucking kisses on his trembling stomach. His hands moved to Clark's belt, pulling it open and then releasing the top button of his jeans. Clark's hands cradled his skull as if it was precious, ghosting carefully from front to back as he pulled Lex's lips back to his skin. Lex slid his hand over the impressive bulge behind the zipper before starting to release it from confinement. With a groan, Clark gently caught his hands and pulled away. Lex was confused, "What?"

 

"This isn't how I imagined it." Clark was trying to get his breathing under control while still gently sliding his hands along Lex's upper arms.

 

"What?" Lex didn't understand what was happening and tried to pull Clark back.

 

"I don't want to rush it." Clark slowly rose from the couch to look down at Lex lying in a wanton sprawl. 

 

Lex began to pull himself together, embarrassed by his misreading of the situation. "I'm sorry. Did I make a mistake here?"

 

Clark slowly shook his head as he continued to watch Lex with heavy-lidded eyes. "Why don't I just come by tomorrow and we'll start again. We can get some lunch..."

 

"You don't want me." Lex felt shaken at how needy he sounded.

 

Clark extended his hand only to pull it back and move further away as if he didn't trust himself. "No, I do...I do want you, I really do. It's just this is too important to me to screw up." He closed the button on his jeans and buckled his belt. "Do you know...do you like chocolate?"

 

Lex just stared at him, completely baffled.

 

Clark tilted his head and smiled. "I do." He began to pace, moving in and out of the cycling light of the projector. "Imagine if you could have the most perfect piece of chocolate in the world. Say you went to Switzerland and you got it there where they invented it." He stopped in front of Lex and bent forward slightly, intent on making his point. "What would you do?  Would you just gobble it right down there and then? Or would you maybe wait a little bit, find a perfect place, maybe light a candle..." He whirled away again to pace, warming to his subject. "Put on some music...I don't know maybe some Bessie Smith or...the soundtrack of Viva Las Vegas. And then when everything was perfect..." He stopped and faced Lex, straining to make him understand. "You would savor it as if it was the last thing you would ever eat." He ducked his head at Lex, hoping he had made his point.

 

Lex blinked and finally spoke. "You are so...weird."

 

"This is really not easy for me to talk about," Clark admitted sheepishly.

 

"What *are* you talking about?"

 

Clark knelt in front of Lex and reached for his hand. Turning it over, he gently stroked his thumb over the scrape he had so carefully cleaned with the edge of his shirt earlier that day. Looking up into Lex's still face, he kissed the injury, and then laid his cheek in Lex's palm. Stunned, Lex put out a shaking hand and caressed Clark's glossy curls as he knelt there, worshipping Lex.  He trembled when Clark raised his head again and whispered, "It's true," before bestowing a gentle kiss on Lex's lips, leaving Lex bemused in the clicking light as he quietly walked out.

 

 

***

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

A young red-haired boy sits on a blanket by the side of a stream. He seems so lonely, his hands folded in his lap. Suddenly, a boy with ebony curls whispers into his ear and then disappears before the redhead can turn to see him. He looks around puzzled and then returns to his lonely vigil.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Lex stirs but never really wakens from his dream.

 

. . .

 

 

"C'mon Lex, don't worry about it. Everybody slips." Victoria patted Lex on the back as he stood at the kitchen counter pouring her coffee.

 

Lex gave a disgusted huff, "I couldn't believe it, like an amateur." He shook his head at the memory. "He made me so mad. I'm going to get him."

 

"That's so sad. You used to enjoy your work."

 

Lex sipped his coffee before promising, "Well I'm going to enjoy this. No one plays with my head like that."

 

 

. . .

 

 

Hauling Clark's shirt over his head, Lex ran his hands over his carved chest and back, and then dragged him deep into his mouth by grabbing handfuls of his hair and yanking. Backing up to the couch, he pulled Clark down on top of him and began to grind up into his hip, feeling Clark's response against his own. Clark pulled back, breathing heavily and declared, "I'm taking you home."

 

Lex jerked him back down and smiled against his lips, "I'll take you home..."

 

Pulling back again, Clark looked at his watch. "No, I mean back to Texas. There's an airplane that leaves in about 2 hours and we're going to be on it."

 

Lex wasn't sure how to respond. "What about lunch?"

 

Clark surfaced from another deep kiss, "We can eat at my house. I've got some tamales in the fridge."

 

"I'm not going to Texas!"

 

 

. . .

 

 

Clark held the door for Lex as he ushered him inside the house. "This is it. This is where I grew up."

 

Still wondering how he ended up in San Antonio, Lex slowly stepped into the house. He felt out-of-place but at least his outfit of an open-weave cotton shirt over linen pants was more appropriate for the heat than his host's black leather jacket, boots and age-softened jeans. Pulling his sunglasses off, Lex looked around as Clark turned on the old record turntable and the sounds of a sultry jazz sax filled the room. "You live here all alone?"

 

"Yeah, well except when my mom's around...sometimes."

 

Lex peered into the next room where he noticed a red silk banner with oriental lettering hanging over a mirror. "Chinese?"

 

Leaning against the wall, Clark babbled, "Oh that, that was left over from a Chinese New Year's party we had in the year of ...the rooster I think, something like that..."

 

Moving further into the room, Lex halted when the wall collage came into view. He continued to within a few feet and scanned it before turning to Clark with a quizzical expression. Clark reached up to the archway and casually swung his body back and forth, as he muttered, "I liked girls."

 

"How old-fashioned of you." Lex abandoned the wall and continued to the table, still covered with scraps and a few of the constructed pictures. "Who's this?"

 

Clark pulled the picture out of Lex's hands before he could examine it more closely. "An art project I'm working on," miming scissors, "Collage."

 

Lex looked from the picture to Clark's face. "I think you have some very deep-seated problems." He strolled over to the record player and started reading the back of the album cover.

 

Staring at the picture he was still holding, Clark touched it murmuring, "I saw this face in a dream..."

 

Looking at Clark in the small mirror above the turntable, Lex echoed, "A dream?"

 

"Yes." Clark watched Lex's reflected eyes, "Does that sound... peculiar?"

 

A slow nod from Lex accompanied his equally slow "Yes."

 

Clark flipped the picture back around to show Lex again. "Well, it's just sort of what the face looked like."

 

With a final glance in the mirror, Lex simply shrugged, "Hmmm."

 

 

. . .

 

 

"This is the Ruby Room."

 

Clark dropped the suitcase by the door and waited for Lex to enter. Glancing around the cream-colored room that contained no red accessories, Lex questioned, "Ruby?"

 

"Oh, for my late Aunt Ruby, not the color," Clark laughingly explained. "This was her room." He strode to the window and tapped an old air conditioning unit. "This is my favorite part."

 

"An air conditioner?"

 

Clark looked back over his shoulder and grinned. "To the casual observer..." he shrugged his leather jacket off and placed it on the bed, "but to an enlightened few, a personal serenity device." He flipped the switch and a low vibrating hum began. "Just smell that musty cold air. It spins a cocoon..." waving his arms above the nearby four-poster bed, "magically, that makes everything seem as if the world doesn't matter."

 

"Did it ever?" Lex hadn't moved from his position by the door. Now he drew nearer in fascination. The temperature in the room had definitely risen when Clark removed his jacket, revealing golden shoulders and biceps molded by the skin-tight A-shirt.

 

As Lex approached the bed, Clark shyly asked, "Well...where would you like to sleep tonight?"

 

Moving another step closer with a soft inquiry, "Where are you sleeping?"

 

Clark slid away from Lex and leaned against the bureau. "Well, that would depend on what kind of mood I'm in." His eyes took on a faraway look, "Lately, I've been favoring the piano...kind of in a *firm* phase."

 

"Really."

 

Glancing at Lex through his lowered lashes, Clark blushed, "Yeah, it gives me the best dreams."

 

Catching his breath at the sudden rush of desire, Lex ventured, "So...what kind of mood do you think you'll be in tonight?"

 

Swinging away from the bureau, where he had been tracing patterns in the grain of the wood, Clark shrugged, "I don't know, it all depends."

 

"Well, you've got me where you want me. Now what?" Lex sat down on the bed and released the top button of his shirt slowly.

 

Eyes riveted by Lex's movements, Clark forced his eyes up to look at Lex's face and suggested, "You must be tired from the trip." He picked up his jacket and started for the door, only to be brought up short by Lex's extended leg. Clark grinned at Lex. "I should tell you I have a devious plan."

 

With widened eyes and a counterfeit gasp, Lex whispered, "Are you going to try to seduce me?" He was enjoying this little game.

 

"In an ultimate kind of way." Clark's sly laugh and wink ran shivers up Lex's spine.

 

Lex whispered coyly, "Oh my."

 

Clark drew closer. "Are you shocked?"

 

Lex confided, "No, I kind of made some plans about you too," with a faux shy smile and drop of his eyes.

 

Clark seemed unsure about this softer side of Lex. "Are you being tender?"

 

"Don't be mean," Lex huffed in frustration.

 

"No, please don't misunderstand me. I like you...tender." Clark smiled sweetly.

 

Lex rolled his eyes and flopped back on the bed. "It must be the personal serenity device."

 

Clark crawled onto the bed next to Lex and carefully leaned over to look in his face. "Close your eyes," he directed and didn't move until Lex gave in. Lowering himself to his elbows, but still not touching Lex, he continued, "Be still." Lex could feel Clark's soft sweet breath on his face as he demonstrated the next command. "Breathe." Lex took a deep breath and let it out. "Again."

 

As Lex let his next deep breath out through his slightly pursed lips, he felt a gentle gliding fingertip trace from the center of his forehead, down his nose and over his lips and chin. Continuing the caress down Lex's throat to the dip between his collarbones, Clark stroked the hollow. "This part, right here, is especially wonderful," he whispered. "You're so nice."

 

Lex opened his eyes to Clark's worshipping gaze. He felt off-balance, unsure. "I'm really not," was his soft protest.

 

"Yes, you are." Clark's quiet insistence calmed Lex. "I can see everything." The softest, sweetest kiss followed the quiet declaration, as if Clark was sipping nectar from Lex's lips. Lying down next to Lex without touching him, Clark closed his eyes, leaving Lex desperately trying to understand what was happening to his heart.

 

 

***

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

Lex stood at the window overlooking the garden wondering where Clark was. He'd woken up alone in the 'cocoon' and had finally managed to make it to his feet, his body unaccustomed to the complete relaxation he had encountered in this room. He felt something he almost didn't recognize, safe. He also couldn't remember the last time he'd fallen asleep in his clothes. He brushed at the wrinkles and then gave it up, shaking his head at his foolishness.

 

Seeing a movement under the trees, he pulled the curtain aside for a better look. A large boulder suddenly vanished and several yards away a puff of dust and leaves appeared.  How did something that looked to be several hundred pounds just disappear? Lex decided to get a closer look.

 

Making his way outside, Lex approached the location of the vanishing rock. As he crept around the base of an ancient moss-covered tree, Lex heard a series of odd scrapes and clicks. Stepping into a clearing, he spotted Clark standing in front of a massive cairn reaching over 20 feet into the air. Lex was astounded. Had he just seen Clark move that boulder into place against the base of the cairn as if it was a pebble?

 

"Clark?"

 

Clark whirled around in surprise. He obviously had not heard Lex approaching. "Lex! You startled me! How are you feeling, rested?"

 

Seeing Clark's uneasiness, Lex decided any questions about magically mobile rocks could wait for now. "I'm fine. I was just wondering what you were doing and decided to check out this beautiful garden." The relief in Clark's face was hard to ignore, but Lex wanted to see what else he could find out before pursuing the mystery. "Would you like to give me a tour?"

 

 

. . .

 

 

Lex headed back upstairs to change after the impromptu exploration, leaving Clark in the kitchen putting together some snacks. A knock at the back door heralded the arrival of one of Clark's performance troupe members. A quick hug and Clark led him into the living room.

 

"You are the king, man. I can't even process that!" Clark's dancing friend was thrilled hearing about his adventures in LA. He capered around the room, grabbed several cloth balls and started to juggle.

 

"I just turned around and there he was, smiling at me."

 

"Did you give him the John Wayne?"

 

Clark laughed, "This is real life, not the movies."

 

"That's exactly what's wrong with the world today man, there's way too much reality happening," the dancer protested, dropping the balls on the table. "Oh speaking of that, Ramon called today. He said that the girl down at San Sofia isn't getting any better and he wondered if we could come by and give her a show."

 

"Show?" Lex had walked back into the room in time to catch the last sentence.

 

"Lex, I'd like you to meet my friend Cameron."

 

"Hello." Lex offered his hand to Cameron, who was standing frozen, jaw dropped in evident surprise. 

 

Recovering, Cameron took Lex's hand and starting shaking it vigorously. "Wow, oh yeah, so you're here. Well, you're...you're just visiting." Finally dropping Lex's hand, Cameron started a rapid-fire babble. "This is a good place to live, great place to live. This...my grandma came, she's a pistol this one, nude half the day..."

 

"Cameron."

 

"...wasn't from here...well, the other half of the day she's clothed...she's not a nude granny..."

 

"Cameron, we should get going."

 

"Oh yeah, we should." Cameron began grabbing boxes and bags from a nearby cabinet. He quivered to a stop in front of Clark and Lex. "You gonna...you driving?"

 

"No, you're going to take your bike, right?" Clark flicked his eyes to Lex, trying to signal Cameron. "Right?"

 

"Ohhh, I'm biking. That's why I got the bike, is to bike." Cameron began to bumble his way out the door. "Occasionally, I will ride my bike and this is...this is one of the occasions."

 

"We'll see you there." Clark caught Lex's hand and pulled him towards the cherry red classic Crown Vic convertible in the driveway.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Lex stood under one of the few trees in the trailer park entranced, watching Clark and Cameron perform. The fluffy white poodle and clown marionettes pranced and played tricks on each other as well as the laughing children seated in a circle around them. Taking a bow, the clown manipulated by Clark danced over to a lounge chair off to one side. The little girl lying down in the white dress, with a crown of flowers in her hair, smiled when she saw the puppet approach.  

 

The young man and woman sitting at the picnic table, watching their daughter, drew Lex's interest. They clasped their hands together and the man kissed his wife sweetly on the cheek. Their sadness was apparent, yet they both attempted smiles at the sound of soft laughter from the little girl. Feeling like an intruder, Lex looked away. His attention returned to the performance in time to see the clown nuzzle the little girl's nose and receive a delighted giggle in return. Seeing the answering grin bloom on Clark's face left Lex feeling a little breathless, and he found himself wishing Clark would grin at him the same way. Almost as if Clark could read his mind, he looked across to where Lex stood watching and did just that.

 

 

. . .

 

 

"Senor, mucho gracias."

 

The little girl's mother approached Lex where he stood watching Clark and Cameron clean up after the show.

 

Lex began apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't speak..."

 

"Su novio es maravilloso."

 

Cameron stopped to translate. "She says your boyfriend is very wonderful."

 

Clark, too far away to hear the conversation, looked up from the puppet-filled bag he was placing in the convertible and smiled at Lex. Lex didn't bother to try to explain to the woman or Cameron that he wasn't Clark's boyfriend.

 

 

. . .

 

 

"That was nice what you did." Lex was watching Clark as he drove, the breeze playing with the ebony curls above his serene face. He seemed to be content, watching the road, eyes a little distant, as he hummed along with the soft Spanish song playing on the radio.

 

His attention pulled back to Lex, Clark turned his head to reply, "I get more out of it than they do."

 

They drove along in silence a little longer until Lex spoke again. "You...fit here."

 

Clark released a deep chuckle, his eyes crinkling up in good humor.

 

"So, how long have you been doing those puppets?" Lex was less comfortable with the silence than the quiet man beside him was.

 

"Oh, a while."

 

"You have talent."

 

"My Aunt Ruby used to do it. She taught me how to make them, helped me polish the routines." Clark quirked an eyebrow and laughed at himself. "I always thought it would give me something to fall back on if the superhero gig didn't work out."

 

Lex laughed, appreciating Clark's gentle humor, "There you go again, being sensible." Wanting to learn more about the man who had pulled him into his life so effortlessly, Lex prompted, "So, show me your town. Where do you hang out? What's your favorite spot?"

 

 

. . .

 

 

"This is it."

 

They were standing on the south side of the San Jose Mission, just below an ornately carved window. Pulling off his sunglasses, Lex shrugged his shoulders. "It's a window."

 

Clark backed up to a nearby adobe wall and brushing it off, sat. "It's got a story."

 

Lex sat on the facing wall. "Ok, tell me."

 

Looking back at the window, Clark began. "A long time ago, there was a craftsman who worked with stone and he was commissioned by the church to build a window. He fell in love with a girl who sang in the choir, her name was Rosa, but...before they could get married, she became ill and died. All he was left with was this window. He must have spent every waking hour for years, carving it, for her." Clark stood and crossed to stand looking down at Lex. "And that's why it's called the Rose Window."

 

Lex looked away from Clark's intense gaze. "I'm sorry for them."

 

Turning to look at the window, Clark shook his head, disagreeing with Lex's sentiment. "At least he found her. Most people never do find that person I think that makes them feel whole."  He reached down to pull Lex up. "So, here we are, all these years later, talking about them."

 

Examining the face so close to his, Lex said softly, "I think he would be glad you told their story today."

 

Clark's hand gently traced from Lex's brow to his chin. "You know, I guess he would."

 

 

. . .

 

 

"That little girl we saw. What was wrong with her?" Leaving the Rose Window, Lex and Clark were exploring the rest of the park.

 

Frowning, Clark answered, "I think it's some kind of heart condition."

 

"Is she going to be okay?"

 

Clark's eyes reflected his sadness. "I don't think so."

 

Lex stopped in distress. "The mother and the father they were holding hands. I was watching them...and the kiss...it was so sweet." Lex struggled to put his feelings into words. "I didn't know..."

 

Clark interjected, "Lex, if you were going...who would you want to kiss goodbye?"

 

"What do you mean, if I were dying?"

 

Clark was quietly insistent. "Whose eyes would you want to look into last?"

 

Disturbed by the question, Lex became defensive. "Who says I would want to?"

 

"You'd want to be alone?" Clark didn't sound like he believed Lex.

 

"Yeah, maybe I would." Suddenly, Lex dropped his aggressive stance and grew pensive. "No, I know who I'd want to kiss goodbye."

 

"Who?"

 

"That little girl." Lex's voice thickened, "Tell her a few things about surviving in the world, kiss her goodbye and get on with it." He walked away leaving Clark deep in thought.

 

 

***

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

 

Standing next to Clark in the moonlight, Lex wondered why he was here, watching him sleep so peacefully. Unable to come up with an answer, he crawled onto the table and lay down on the quilt next to Clark, his back to the quiet man, his head pillowed on Clark's muscled shoulder. As he settled, Clark rolled slightly and his other arm came down around Lex and pulled him close. He fell asleep with the gentle puffs of Clark's breath in his ear, safe.

 

 

. . .

 

 

A pair of dangling puppets rattled above Clark as he sat up abruptly. Brushing them aside, he started to get down from the table when Lex came in from the kitchen, wearing only pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

 

"Good morning." Lex was hesitant, waiting for a hint from Clark.

 

Clark's grin was infectious, "Good morning.&