Lex is in trouble. Not the vague there's something I have to do kind; not even the pretty specific I left the stove on type. And definitely not the I've spent the entire afternoon flirting with my best friend in a not entirely appropriate way way. No this is the real deal and Lex finds it curious that he's capable of examining his own terror.

Item number one, he cannot feel his left foot. He's sending the signals he thinks mean wiggle but isn't getting any feedback. He's never had to actually think about moving his foot before so he tries many many variations. Still nothing. No sound of movement, no pain, just a blankness. Lex considers this bad.

Next, it's pitch black in this place, even allowing for the fact that he's looking through a blindfold. His eyes are open but he feels as if he's in a vacuum. The space around him seems thick with dark. The only reason he doesn't think he's blind is that he thinks his brain would create some sort of light, something to calm his pysche if the optical nerves really weren't firing. He doesn't know why he believes this; maybe his brain is right now creating an illusion to keep him from screaming.

Lex needs to be methodical about his analysis. So, start from the beginning.

He remembers being grabbed from behind and blindfolded. His hands were pulled in front and tied together. They left his legs free and walked him down the parking garage. He was pushed into a vehicle, an SUV, because he barked his shin and then had to climb up onto a seat. He was made to sit in the middle, flanked by two large men. Even with the three of them he wasn't short on space, a wide bench equaled a big truck.

He continued to collect facts. It was an SUV, it had three rows of seats, extra-large. It was running on at least a V-8 engine, considering the strong bursts of acceleration for a big truck carrying five men. These were his bench buddies, him, a driver and someone in the passenger seat. He tries to listen for any sort of accent or verbal clues but all the questions are no more than a few words and they all concentrate on speaking low and soft.

A Nextel chirps and a voice says, "Have you cleared one ?"

Passenger seat clicks back and says, "Yes, Go for switch."

The bizarrely cheerful chirp again and then, "Copy."

The drive continues. The driver, Lex thinks is not used to the power or the turning radius of the truck. The turns are a little too fast and the slowing is uneven. The driving is just a little off, as if the driver is looking for another step. Maybe someone used to driving a manual shift rather than automatic.

Lex is trying to keep track of the rights and lefts. It's not helping him figure out his location. He's sure they're not on Route 8 because the roadway sounds too rough. He guesses the bulk of this trip has been on some sort of access road. That narrows it down to about seven choices. The bigger farms, his home, the factory, these are the places he knows have long roadways paralleling the main thoroughfare. Lex knows the roads around Smallville. Clark recognizes it as Lex pacing. Instead of wearing a furrow in a nice carpet somewhere, Lex unleashes horsepower on empty Kansas thruways.

Lex also knows speed. He estimates that they've been moving at between 15 and 45 miles per hour. He thinks they've been in the truck for about 40 minutes. If he averages the speed to 30 mph and interpolates from there - 20 miles and now a stop.

The doors open and he knows not to move. He has after all been abducted before. The truck lightens and raises as some bodies leave but he thinks that at least the passenger has stayed put. Lex only heard three doors slam shut. He can't tell, but he thinks passenger, from now on to be known as "Switch", is looking at him. Lex is sorely tempted to use his smart mouth but reins it in. He holds very still and concentrates on looking as if he can see Switch.

It works, he hears the rustle of man on seat as Switch turns and opens his door. Switch leaves. Lex breathes. He is in so much trouble. These guys are professional, they don't talk, they have a plan, they haven't yet hurt him. They also haven't made any demands so he figures they're not going to ask him for whatever they want. He's just the bait.

Lex hates to be the bait.

Especially because it means Lionel is the fish.

Then the four doors open. Personnel change, at least in the back seat. Instead of being between Dial soap and some sort of fruity shampoo, he's currently sandwiched by grass mixed with motorcycle grease (something older, English) and the fresh scent of Tide. Lex has been in much better threesomes. But that is not really the best channel for thought right now. Perhaps as a reward after he survives. Or to distract himself during torture. Maybe Dad will request a finger as proof of life.

The driver pulls the truck back on the road and they must be on Route 8 or on Interstate 10 because he can feel the smoothness and their speed picks up. Also he can hear other vehicles; he assumes they're moving into a more populated area. Approximate speed now 75 mph. Lex leans back gingerly, waiting for protest. Nothing. So, he relaxes a bit and tries to get more comfortable. His captors seem happy to let him.

They ignore him more completely than anyone ever has. Oh yeah. Real trouble.

The rest of the trip takes about two hours. They slow and speed equally so Lex feels comfortable placing their miles logged at 130. That plus the first 20 equals a radius of 150 miles. They've taken him to Metropolis? Seems unlikely but who knows what their game is - Lex determinedly waits for more clues.

He is removed from the truck and escorted into a building. His walk must be hidden from public view because they make no effort to hide his being blindfolded and tied.

They lead him into a building. Again very professional. One man in front him, close, while a second guy (Tide) walks behind Lex pushing a gun low against his ribs. Maybe ex-Feds, maybe guys who've watched the right movies, maybe an ex-lover really wants to see him. Who was it who liked him helpless? Who wasn't it?

They walk through a large empty space. Lex can hear their footsteps reverberating. They get to a door and press him against it. Switch speaks, "I'm going to untie your hands. Do not move. I'm going to let you into this bathroom. When you get in you can take off your blindfold. You have five minutes. Then put the blindfold back on. Don't open the door. Just wait."

Switch cuts the ties around his hands. Lex holds still.

"You understand?"

Lex nods. As long as he never sees them he can't identify them. If he can't ID them, he should live. Yes, live and breath and payback.

The door opens and Lex finds himself in a small windowless bathroom. No mirror, no soap, nothing loose or available. He shrugs, uses the toilet, washes his hands and reapplies the blindfold, just a bit looser than before. He stands by the door.

The door opens and his hands are retied. He decides to speak. Nothing happens. He tries again,

"So, how can I help you?" asks Lex. He feels better. He sounds smooth. They should want his help. Information is power and being tied and blind makes him crave some control. Very unlike the times he's been bound in the past. Again, not a helpful use of brain function. Lex has figured out that his mind is flying to sex when stressed and for a second laughter is close.

"Do not speak," Switch answers and the laughter dies so abruptly Lex hurts.

Then he's guided again. He's prodded over a threshold and walked into a room with different flooring. He was on some sort of glazed concrete at first, the kind of floor used in cheap warehouses and expensive lofts. But now his shoes slide a bit and he guesses some sort of wood laminate because the noises of his and Switch's footfalls are shallow.

Switch pulls him over to a chair. It's metal and has a very high back. Lex is able to rest his head. Lex's arms are untied and then refastened to the arms of the chair. The only mental picture Lex is getting here is Prince Humperdink in "The Princess Bride". Lex refuses to think about what the Prince has to do with his recent stress leads to sex penchant. But it works because he's tuned out the roughness as he's incapacitated.

Now he's knows he's not supposed to speak but his voice has always made things happen. His intelligence is his crutch. His power of persuasion is a matter of personal pride. He is sure that this situation is only a couple of conversations away from resolved.

"Sir?" he thinks that's safe, no sarcasm, just a question.

Apparently not, as Lex receives a hard sharp rap to the side of his head. The sound of the crack weakens his knees. This time his body is too busy processing the hurt to allow his brain to make any sexy connections.

Lex shuts up now and notes that when Switch is alone, violence is a possibility.

Switch then grabs his left foot and attaches some sort of very tight shackle. Pain.

Lex remains quiet. Has remained quiet until this moment. It's been probably two hours and the not-feeling in his foot continues. No one has come to see him. He waits. He tells himself he is the bait.

He wonders how Clark's visit to Kansas University is going. Of course KU is 100 miles the wrong way from Metropolis. Chances of a farmboy rescue? Slim to none. So. Not. Good.

Clark can't remember Lex ever not answering his call. Once, when earlier in the day Lex had answered and quickly asked to call back, Clark had asked him why he didn't just let it go through to voicemail. Lex said that Clark's ID on the phone was a really good part of his day. Clark felt warm and flattered until he looked up to catch Lex's shark grin. Lex quickly covered with wide-eyed and innocent but Clark wasn't fooled.

A few days later Lex had parked by the factory and said he needed to grab some files. Clark x-rayed the building and saw it was empty. He told Lex he'd wait in the car. He flicked the key to accessory and listened to the radio.

The good song ended and commercials started so Clark decided to text Lex something obnoxious. But when he keyed send he heard ringing in the car. He located the cel and read his ID - "DementedCrowsFan". He laughed.

At other opportune times he'd ring and check. So far he'd seen "farmboy," "clueless," "organic" and once, inexplicably, "snodgrass." Lex amused himself, Clark supposed. He liked to think of Lex taking the time to work the tiny telephone buttons just to make himself grin when Clark called.

Clark had thought of any number of things to use as Lex's ID but really the thrill of seeing "LexLuthor" hadn't lost its charm. Lex was number one on speed dial and that was fair since technically the list and the phone belonged to Lex. His parents hadn't liked it but they let Clark "borrow" it. It had taken a few reminders of Smallville's special dangers but even his father had seen the wisdom in having instant communication.

Clark thinks of all these things as he drives to Kansas University with Pete. Pete is seriously thinking of attending next fall and wants to scout the target area. Pete's phrasing, not Clark's. Clark wants to see a college campus, as a separate little kingdom, rather than the collection of buildings and spaces spread throughout the city that add up to Met U. He's pretty sure he's going there but Pete needed company and it sounded fun.

Pete's third oldest brother Thomas is currently a senior and they'll be staying in his apartment. Some students change their majors, Thomas changes his name. In Smallville, he was always Tommy James Ross. Nobody knows why but he was a three-name kid. When he was a freshman, some girl called him T and he decided everyone should. His sophomore year before Thanksgiving he was Tom and after Christmas he was Thom. Apparently there was a difference.

"So, Thomas right?" asks Clark. He purposely pushes his cel deeper into his pocket.

Pete snorts and grabs a handful of Doritos. "Yeah," he says, "Far as I know."

They laugh like boys who have known each other their whole lives. Pete was there when he actually fell down a well. Clark was there when Pete got stuck in a tree and had to promise to never tell his brothers that Gina Schrader carried him down. No way was eight-year-old Pete letting it become known he'd been rescued by a girl. They know everything about each other and about most everyone in their town.

College will be different.

And driving down an Interstate with the stale smell of wet carpet, half a bag of Doritos, three unopened Slim Jims, a half tub of swedish fish and a cooler full of Red Bull, Clark looks over at Pete and gets it.

When he gets to Met U, everyone will have secrets.

No one will know anything about anybody. Clark and Pete can be anyone they want. It won't be about holding back, it'll be deciding how much to give out. He won't feel guilty about not being able to tell everything because it's just about sharing something.

"So, Thomas," Clark smiles around the full name, "He'll graduate before you start. You'll actually be in school without any brothers or sister."

"The one and only," says Pete. "Nice to be me, not just another Ross, you know?."

"Yeah," answers Clark, "It's cool." He has super hearing, he won't miss the ring.

Naturally when they get there Thomas introduces them to everybody as his baby brother Petey and his friend Clarky. Pete isn't totally happy about it but when he and Clark are invited to a party he forgets to be annoyed. Thomas takes them to one of the dining halls and Pete and Clark learn about the point system vs. the dollar system. They also see that "food group" can be interpreted many different ways.

Thomas, his girlfriend and his roommate answer all their dumb questions. Thomas wants to know if Clark's phone has a camera when he sees him hold it up and shake it. It doesn't but everyone talks about how cool those things are. They all stuff themselves and then Pete and Clark walk back to the apartment.

Then it's four o'clock and it's time for Pete's tour. Clark leaves Pete at the Administration Office and wanders toward the quad. It's wide and bordered by trees. There are benches and a fountain inscribed with latin phrases. Clark is sure Lex could translate them, lecture about improper syntax and place each within its proper historical context.

He thinks about calling but he's called twice already and Lex hasn't answered either time. Clark can't think why Lex might be upset with him but it makes him tight and unsteady. He's been distracting himself but hearing Lex's voicemail message once again is freaking him out. He shouldn't have given in and dialed. He knows even if he doesn't leave a message Lex will know he called.

So he takes a deep breath and hopes he sounds relaxed, "Hey Lex. Pete and I are at KU and you were wrong, they've got some kind of restaurant major here and the food is good. Anyhow, there's latin on the fountain and call me when you have a chance. Hope everything is okay, Bye. It's Clark."

Clark clicks off and tries to make up excuses for Lex. None of them sound right. But some of them make Clark feel mean. An hour passes as he waits for Pete and still no call. Clark tries to tell himself it's no big deal. He also tries to tell himself he's not jealous. He tries some more.

Kissing Lex would be a good thing.

Feeling Lex would be a better thing.

Kissing this girl is an okay thing. She is soft and pressed up nicely against him and her tongue is way more experienced than the one Clark is using. Clark tries to remember how he ended up here. Here being halfway between the party and Molly's dorm room.

Here being sprawled on a bench with a lap full of college girl but a brain full of Lex. Clark's confused and aroused and guilty. Unexpectedly, he likes it. The competing feelings make it easier to ignore the fact that he should stop. He knows this is wrong. He's just using Molly to distract himself from really examining his feelings for Lex.

Thinking about Lex, Clark pushes into Molly and kisses harder. Molly pulls back and he's worried he hurt her but before he can say anything she smiles and uses her hands to tip his face back. She raises up on her knees and kisses him from above. This places her chest close to his throat and he's enjoying having to press up to her face. Her hands are in his hair and on the back of his neck and scraping along his jaw and he's making noises and knows he needs to stop.

His brain tells him this idea is insane. He's seventeen and she came on to him and the night is warm and it's everything he ever wanted. Everything he ever wanted before Lex gave him a choice anyway.

More thinking about Lex and his hands move underneath her shirt. His fingers register skin and he just lightly strokes up and around her ribs. His hands practically span her waist as he moves to lightly grip her spine and press her more firmly into his chest. She's radiating heat and making little sounds that only register as very very good.

She pulls back again and Clark runs his hands down her jeans, over her thighs and pulls her down gently, letting her decide where she lands. Oooh, she chooses just right. There's no space between them and just a few layers of cloth. Clark hasn't been here before and lets Molly lead. She's still kissing and now she has one hand kneading his shoulder and her other is on top of the hand he has on her hip and she's guiding him to rock her back and forth against his so very excited to be part of a twosome cock.

Clark wonders exactly how far he's going to go here. Also, since he is a senior would it be so terribly high school to just explode right here on this bench in the middle of campus in the dark with all his clothes on and maybe it's not really a decision because --

"Clark!"

Huh. Pete's voice. Molly ignores it. Clark thinks it seems like a safe choice.

"Clark!"

But not apparently the right one. Clark stops the kiss and Molly looks at him, "Is that Pete?"

"Yeah, I should see," Clark starts but can't seem to find words to complete the sentence.

Molly sees he's not coherent and grins, "Cool. Speechless boy." She tugs down her shirt and Clark's surprised to see it had been hitched above her bra. He did that? Well then. Molly laughs at his look, "You okay? I think I got carried away." She smiles and Clark knows she's teasing.

Clark still doesn't move. He's not sure he can. But the choice is made when Pete crashes through a hedge and spots them.

"Clark, oh man, I'm sorry," Pete apologizes. Clark grins. He's never been the cool guy. Molly looks from boy to boy and laughs. She gives Clark a big deep kiss before she slips off his lap and grabs one of Pete's arms.

"Your friend was magnificent," she quotes.

The three of them laugh. Molly says they're all going to finish walking her home now. And that Pete shouldn't get any ideas because worldly college freshman though she is, she only corrupts one high school boy a night. Pete catches Clark's eye and shakes his head. Clark just tries to look innocent, admittedly not a stretch.

They leave Molly at her lobby door and wave at her as she walks into an elevator.

As they walk away Pete punches Clark who pushes back. When the laughing stops and their zig zag rambling takes them halfway back to Thomas' apartment Clark remembers to ask, "Why were you looking for me?"

Pete looks up, tries to keep his face serious, fails and says, "I have no idea. Geez, Clark when I saw you making out with Molly I forgot my own name."

"Clark Kent, champion moper and master of the longing look, actually gettin' some," Pete continues, "I tell you, it was a moment to make a man proud." He places his hand over his heart.

Pete cracks himself up and Clark laughs with him.

They make it back to the apartment and both bedroom doors are closed. The room is full of empties from their pre-party. Pete heads to the bathroom. Clark clears the floor for their sleeping bags. This leads to collecting the empty bottles. He decides to bring them out to the recycling bins outside the building.

Pete steps out of the bathroom yawning. He nods as Clark says he's going downstairs.

"Got some excess energy?" Pete says.

"Shut up, Pete" Clark answers. He decides to take the stairs.

He is a little antsy. Lex is still on his mind and the make out session with Molly more solidified what he thought he felt than erased it. Clark makes himself examine his and Lex's last face to face conversation.

Lex thinks that he's been in this chair for three hours. Plus about 2 and one-half hours in the truck and maybe a half hour between the walking through the parking garage and the bathroom thing and his botched attempt at conversation.

Mistake to think about bathroom as now he has to go. Also, the hole in his stomach might actually be hunger and thirst rather than just panic and anxiety. Okay, assess. Yep. Pretty much the same scenario for the past three hours. Must stay alert, they have to come to him for answers, demands, threats, something.

He needs to stay alert so he needs something to fully occupy his brain. Well, if he puts it that way, of course it's Clark. Clark, who is the specific reason he was even in the office on a Saturday afternoon rather than somewhere relaxing or fun or safe.

He wasn't supposed to be in his office. Not at the time these men were. They didn't expect him. They didn't want him. This is a whole new ballgame.

Maybe they aren't stoic silent abduction specialists.

Maybe they're just thieves who were interrupted by the CEO of the company they were robbing. It's possible they'd just been surprised by an almost witness who is a well-known hothead and a dangerous enemy. It makes some sort of sense now. They weren't after him they just were forced to contain him.

They were stealing from him.

Now he's pissed.

The puzzle is suddenly more and less intricate. More intricate because it would seem he is a wildcard. They didn't have a plan to take him; they were, of necessity, making it up as they went along. Less intricate because Lex knew his enemies and there weren't many who had the balls and wherewithal to break into his office on a random sunny Saturday. There had to be an inside source, someone in his chain of security who had been bought or exploited. And given enough time, he was going to figure it out.

And also, hope they gave him another bathroom break. No problem. He could do both.

Clark walks down to the recycling bins. He looks up at Thomas' window and sees that Pete has turned on the TV. The fluctuating blue light through the glass is familiar and comforting, like Pete.

Lex, on the other hand, is not. He's unpredictable, exotic, fascinating and exasperating. Also, charismatic and just plain hot. Clark didn't think he had any kinks but apparently he's all about the Lex. Even with Molly, he felt it was Lex firing up the sex drive. Everything he did that she liked was spurred by thinking about Lex.

Clark walks over to another bench. Apparently seating is the gift of choice for graduating classes because the darn things are everywhere. So sitting without a girl attached to hip or lip leads to thinking.

Friday afternoon.

"What time does the Ross chariot leave for the wilds of Kansas University?" asked Lex as he chalked his cue.

"10:00 a.m. Saturday," answered Clark as he noticed the dark purple dust. He had smiled and caught Lex's eye. Lex sucessfully ignored the silent mockery.

"What do you two have planned? In addition to the partaking of mass amounts of questionable sustenance and beverage?" Lex continued as he lined up to drop the two-ball into the side pocket. He did it quickly, via a pretty 45-degree kind-of chip shot.

"Pete has an interview and a tour at 4:00 p.m." Clark answered, "Other than that, just hanging out with his brother and, you know, absorbing the college experience." He moved to lean against the closest wall. Clark knew the game was over. All Lex had left was the sinking of the eight ball, which he'd set up beautifully.

Lex lined up for the game's kill shot as he said, "The college experience can encompass many things Clark. Experiences that will shape the rest of your life."

Clark remembers tendons and veins in sharp relief on a hand held stable, tension from fingers through shoulder as Lex prepped the shot, followed by a smooth pull back with clean follow-through. Slide, smack, clack, roll, thunk. Game over.

Lex had looked up from the table and smiled. Clark almost missed the expression because his concentration was still on a strong shoulder angling down to a taut arm. He looked up just in time to see Lex's look turn speculative. Alarm sped through him as he tried to find his place in the conversation.

He chose to say "Uh, huh." Brilliant, he had thought, now you're mentally deficient as well as having been caught checking out your best friend. The same friend who has married one girl (psycho mutant) and lived with another (?!?) just in the past few years.

Clark smoothly positioned the table between him and said friend. He thought it might work because it's not like Lex is preternaturally observant. Lex for his part was silent. He didn't move to rack up for the next game, just tilted his head slightly and kept smiling at Clark.

Clark decided to cut his losses and bail. He muttered out some sort of chores, going to be gone all weekend thing and left. When he arrived home, he realized he didn't give Lex a chance to say goodbye. Also, he remembers a very real feeling that Lex had been about to say something important.

Lex thinks that if Clark hadn't run away they might have had a conversation about experiences. Lex hopes that he somehow gets out of this chair, finds the nerve endings in his leg, leaves this warehouse under his own power and lives to share this one with Clark. Hopefully the sharing will be accompanied by 16-year old scotch, the entire contents of his walk-in refrigerator and a fire during a long hot shower.

He hears footsteps. He sits up straighter. The door opens and he recognizes the scent of motor oil. Ah, the man he'll call "Norton". He's not sure why but man's scent reminds him of an early teenage whim to keep an elderly but shapely English motorcycle running. He thinks he spent the equivalent of his college tuition on that thing.

Norton walks directly up to him and tells Lex not to move. Lex, shackled and tied, complies.

Norton continues, "I'm going to undo the shackle and then take you to the bathroom and bring you some food. But no talking and no movement until I tell you. Nod if you understand."

Lex nods with relief. Notes that Norton talks slowly, enunciating, maybe at some point having overcome a stutter. Thinks East Coast and speech therapy.

They walk slowly as Lex pretty much has to force his left leg to work. It's still numb but Lex anticipates pain when it comes back online. They reach the bathroom and Norton lets Lex in. He closes the door and takes off the blindfold. He adjusts to the light, uses the facilities and waits. He stretches, he pulls on muscles and tries to force his back to relax. Continues to list employees in his mind. Cross-referencing when they were hired with any blips on their background checks and scheduled evaluations plus personal day-to-day interaction.

He's remembering that Jane Richardson in IT has some sort of linguistics achievement listed on her resume. A minor and maybe some fieldwork, listed under public service, he thinks. He remembers meeting her. She had pinpointed the slight remnant of English pronunciation he had thought he'd lost completely. He had been impressed with her confidence in teasing him. He'd liked her.

Norton returns to the door. He instructs Lex, "Put your blindfold on. Tell me when you're done. You want to do it properly."

Lex ties the cloth and says,"It's on."

"Stand back from the door and turn so you face the wall," says Norton. Lex has never been this obedient in his whole life.

He hears the bathroom door open and feels cool air snake around him. Also smells what has to be McDonald's. He'd laugh if he weren't sure it would be taken away if he did.

The door closes and Lex takes a chance and removes the blindfold. When he sees what's been left he does laugh. Beside the paper bag of fast food stands a large bottle of Tynant. He knows this should scare him, this admission that whoever is behind this knows his habits. But right now he washes his hands and actually enjoys the oddly shaped McNuggets and world-famous fries. He fights the path his brain is following, he will not use the bottle as a weapon, he will just enjoy the refreshment.

He eats quickly because he doesn't know when Norton will be back. As he chews he also thinks about where his water is kept at the factory. He knows there is a refrigerator outside his office, so maybe they just noticed it today. He needs to concentrate on what in his office they might have stolen.

His laptop is at home. He doesn't keep anything personal on the office network. He thinks about the deals pending. The factory is just turning the corner into profitability. Financially, they're still navigating a bubble as he balances the cost of research and operations with timely payments and the careful maintenance of employee/investor security.

He tries to think about why the thieves would go in on Saturday when cars in the vicinity would be more conspicuous and when security have more time for patrol. He knows the guards walk the plant's campus faster on the weekends. There's no front door traffic to check, no weekday hubbub. There is probably a guard by his desk every 20 or 25 minutes.

Okay, something they hoped to complete in 20 minutes and that needed to happen during the day on Saturday. Something maybe involving Jane. He's not sure but his instinct connects her linguistic altruism with the low murmurs of these men and especially Norton's careful cadence.

He is listening carefully and has the blindfold in hand when the voice comes through the door. Norton tells him to put the trash in the bag, and place the bottle and cap next to them. Lex does this, making enough noise to show compliance.

"Put the trash to the right of the door. Then put the blindfold on and sit on the toilet," Norton says.

Lex does. The door opens, the trash and bottle are taken away. Then Norton walks in and reties his hands. Lex quietly rejoices that he uses a cloth tie this time rather than the plastic riot loops they used before. It's kinder to his skin and he has a hope of loosening it. They walk back through the warehouse and into the room with the chair. There's a light on now and Lex finds it comforting to still see the pink glow of his eyelids.

Norton seems rushed. Instead of the chair, he's led to some sort of low opening.

"Get in and lie down," says Norton. Norton pushes him forward but kindly keeps a hand on his head, causing him to duck. Lex moves forward raising his arms to maintain balance. Norton makes sure he's all the way in and then positions him over some sort of blankets. He pushes on Lex's shoulders. Lex first sits then lays down.

"Good. Don't worry. If you're as smart as you're supposed to be you'll stay quiet and we'll all get out of this okay," says Norton, very quietly, "We'll be back in the morning." Lex marvels at the human reflex to fill silence with words. He's used the tactic in business. Keep quiet and people will tell you anything to fill the space. Lex counts himself lucky there haven't been any threats. He also considers that Norton said "be back" which might mean they're leaving this space for the night.

Norton doesn't replace the shackle but Lex is stepped over and hears some sort of door swing shut and a chain and padlock being used. Norton leaves and Lex moves around the space formulating a plan. Feels confident he has enough facts but really wishes that Kent boy had stayed home this weekend.

Clark thinks that Pete must have fallen asleep by now. He's not new to obssessive behavior so he can't muster any embarrassment about the fact that he's going to check on Lex. He has an irrationally strong feeling that Lex is taking advantage of not having Clark in town to do some entertaining.

Clark admits he's a stalker. He sees that he's jealous and possessive. He realizes that his feelings for Lex, while confusing and possibly hopeless, are real. He's learning a lot about himself here at college. He really wishes he'd stayed home.

He stops thinking and runs northwest. As he disappears from the bench, Pete shakes his head and turns off the TV. Pete's sure he'll be back by morning. He's also sure he knows exactly where Clark is going.

Lex wonders if anyone could hear him if he yelled

Lex forces himself to lie still. He stays quiet and is patient. After fifteen minutes he still hasn't heard anything and no one has returned. He decides to move. He moves onto his side and curls into a fetal position. From here he rolls to a seated position. He knows form hard experience this is the best way to avoid disorientation and the easiest on his strained body.

He maneuvers his tied hands to his face and pushes the blindfold off. Norton turned off the lights but it's not full dark in here. Lex sees that he is in a warehouse and there are windows high up on the opposite wall. He also sees he's in a makeshift box. Not a real cage but an enclosure created from pieces of chain link fence.

The edges are secured to each other by manipulating the rough ends of link and twisting them together. It's not the best done job but they must have expected Norton to fully tie and shackle him. Lex congratulates himself on acting meek and obedient. There'll be a reckoning with his self-esteem later but for now he's happy to have been underestimated. He's reasonably sure his ego will survive. He's absolutely positive his bad attitude will.

He needs to untie his hands. He pulls his wrists out and up and then twists them to try and lever the tie off of his hands. This continues for some time. Some loosening but not enough to free him. Lex places his hands on the ground and works the front of his shoe into the slim space between his forearms. He pushes with his foot against the cloth. It hurts as the tie digs into his skin but he keeps pressing. The pressure causes the cloth to stretch between his arms.

When he feels enough of a stretch he stops and shakes his arms to make the blood flow back into his hands. Then he does the foot thing again. While he works the binding he analyzes the information he's collected.

He's decided that the Saturday strike at the office must have something to do with the nightly sweep. He's basing this all on a connection to Jane but he's learned to trust his hunches. It was a hunch that propelled him to convince Factory Three's employees to become LexCorp owners. It was a hunch that made him walk back into that same factory after Earl made his stand. He has a hunch about Clark.

Knowledge is power but instinct is magic.

He will use that at a shareholder meeting. It's a born closer.

He knows that Jane has access to the entire computer network at the plant. She's IT, information technology, and part of her job is to insure all the pieces of the whole can communicate. She also makes sure that the information travels upward. So Lex, being at the top of the pyramid, has access to all while those with less clearance can only request information laterally or from below.

However, in the way of all valued employees, Jane has made herself indispensable. She is the system; she works hard and is very detail oriented. Nothing is too basic to escape her influence. She knows the links, the servers and the overrides. She installs and debugs software and introduces and finetunes hardware. Lex knows she can trace his transactions through the day.

This hasn't been a concern. LuthorCorp background checks are complete. LexCorp background checks are more. In addition to the investigation of previous employers, schooling, legal entanglements and police records both sealed and public; LexCorp had and used other contacts that provided health records, notes from therapy sessions and a close look at entanglements, both romantic and underworld.

He'd thought that this was overkill for a fertilizer factory but now he recognizes his paranoia as prescient. Of course, also a colossal failure. Which makes him a psychic loser.

He can hear his father now. Emotions, weakness, blah, blah, lengthy parable, blah.

Focus. Jane is stealing from you and you are locked in a box.

The nightly sweep. An action perfectly legal but ethically murky. Basically, he takes the holdings, the entire financial value, of the LexCorp account and sweeps it into another each night. This other account is able to collect value through the accrual of interest made while working within foreign stock markets. International paper.

Lex makes money while America sleeps. Each morning LexCorp's money is back and the difference is deposited in a separate account. The difference adds up. Is adding up, will continue to add up.

Lex hasn't actually done anything with this money. It sits in an account and grows. He looks at it as a direction. To where and for what is undecided. If discovered with prejudice it can be proved to be just another LexCorp account. A clever ploy to increase profitability and a surprise dividend increase. A good thing.

In reality, Lex considers this money his. He doesn't rule out using it for the plant. If necessary he will. He has no intention of failing his employees or himself. But he has bigger plans than one fertilizer factory and this account is a tool to build that future.

While he contemplates his secret account Lex has managed to remove the tie from his hands. He rubs them briskly and waggles his fingers. He folds up the tie and places it in his pocket. If he can't get free he'll have to put it back on.

Lex looks at the edges of the cage. He's hunting for a weakness, a place to make a hole.

He knows that Jane will have discovered that although she can manipulate the sweep account from the factory, she cannot access the resulting funds. He had to do the primary set up from his office but he's been handling all of the maintenance at the mansion. The account and its passcodes are in the laptop that stays in his bedroom. The one that's out but thankfully not running. Not running because he'd broken the ethernet tab. Out because he was trying to distract himself from thoughts of Clark and college temptations. Completely unattended because he'd dismissed everyone from the house in a fit of bad mood.

Lex starts to pick. From right now they have an hour's head start. All they need is access; he needs to prevent the transfer.

Clark arrives at the mansion. It's quiet. He jumps the fence at the spot where a tree hits it. The alarm sensor at this point is overloaded. It always registers contact and so the computer system reads it as "safe". Clark doesn't know this. He's just using the tree as a shield from the cameras.

Clark enters the darkened building. The door for the produce delivery is never locked. He likes to think it's always open for him. Clark does a fast lap around Lex's home and sees no one is home. No staff, no security. Lex must have been sulky. Everyone gets a weekend pass when the master is surly. Clark heads to the garage. Lex's newest Porsche is not there.

The only other place in Smallville Lex could be at this hour would be the factory.

Clark sees the car parked practically in the plant's front door. He breaks in through a side door. He doesn't care about the alarms because he's noticed a large black truck parked off the drive. He walks as quietly as possible toward Lex's office and sees three people, two men and one woman. Clark recognizes the woman as Jane something. She always buys peas and artichokes and then walks all the way back from her car to buy herself some Gerber Daisies. Clark remembers her looking embarrassed but pleased.

He knows she shouldn't be here now.

"Can you do it or not?" asks one man, roughly.

"He's worked it so that the last drop account isn't serviced by this location," Jane says.

"What can we do?" asks the first man again "We've been here two hours." The second man waits and Clark can feel his anxiety. Clark wants to move somewhere he can call 911 but doesn't want to leave them.

"Shut up for now," Jane says, "Checking viabilities takes time. It'll be worth it. We'll be all right."

She continues, "I'm going to try and connect to his home net from here. I've made it possible for him to access files, I should be able to use the same link to connect." Clark watches as she types commands quickly at two keyboards.

Clark has no idea how he's going to explain how he was at KU an hour ago and hanging around Smallville now but he knows he can't let Jane keep working on whatever she's doing. He's screwed. He edges his way out thinking he can disable the truck.

He keeps watch but the three of them seem committed to their work. He decides that letting the air out of all four tires will be much easier to explain than a fist-sized hole in the hood. Not as dramatic but he's learning to be quietly brilliant.

Maybe he can wake his parents to call the police. Sure, Jonathan Kent wandering around LexCorp Plant 3 at 2:00 a.m. No problems here officer. On the other hand, thanks to Pete, everyone knows he is the KU campus all weekend. Screwed. Maybe he could just stop them himself. Because that would be the exact type of action not to call attention to his freakish strength and speed and obsession with all things Lex. Maturity and forethought suck.

Clark walks around the plant's campus, keeping an eye on the truck and on the doors. He finds the security guards unconscious and tied up in one of the gatehouses. He makes sure they're both breathing and leaves them. They're drugged. He can't wake them. But at least they can't see him; they won't know he's here.

Clark looks up quickly when he hears a car down the road. He doesn't recognize the vehicle but he thinks he recognizes the style of driving.

Lex manages to pry his way out of the cage. He has completely cut up his fingers and there are long scrapes down his back where he pulled skin squeezing out. But he is finally loose within the warehouse. He walks to the windows. He doesn't chance leaving the room in case they've left a guard. The windows are about four feet above his head and bordered by a narrow ledge. He climbs carefully onto the ledge and looks outside. He estimates the drop to the ground at 10 feet. He sees two cars parked outside. Both domestic basic four door sedans.

Lex places the two lengths of chain link he managed to break off in his waistband. He ties the cloth around his right hand. He covers his face with his shirt as he takes a breath. He listens and then kicks out two of the panes. He works the rest of the glass out with the wrapped hand. He protects his left hand as he manages to work his body so that he's hanging outside but braced against the wall. He cuts himself by his ribs as he lets go and lands. He looks around and sees no one. Knows his luck won't hold so he runs to one of the cars.

Picks the one with a triangular wedge-type window as part of driver's side. He uses the chain link to wheedle it ajar. Pries his already bleeding fingers in and pulls. The latch snaps and he's able to manipulate his arm and the makeshift tool to open the door.

From here it's like riding a bike. If riding a bike carries a legal penalty of five to ten years in jail and necessitate your father buying your sealed juvey record when you turn eighteen. Bikes are good.

Lex breaks open the steering column. He knows his hands will heal but it's going to be a real test. He jams the links together to make a rough prod and pushes it against the ignition assembly in just the right way. Nice. The car's engine comes to life. Full tank. Sweet.

Lex jumps out and punches the two rear tires of the other car with the link lengths. He keeps them because every painful exploit requires macabre souvenirs.

He drives fast. He's betting Jane thinks she can use his lap link from the office. He's worried that she can. He hopes that the ethernet tab is as broken as he had thought. He drives faster.

Lex pulls up to the factory in record time. He may have to revisit his opinion of domestic horsepower. He had turned off the headlights at the main road. He parks the car on the grass, out of view. Lex sees a figure facing him from the shadows and thinks about choices. He makes the choice just to be glad he has help.

Lex isn't going to ask questions. But he is going to demand action. And he's definitely going to stop thinking in action movie lines. Right now. He blames the blood loss and the McDonald's but as he walks up to Clark he grins and says, "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Clark studies the current version of Lex. The oft-called debonair billionaire is bloodied, wearing torn clothes, has a dirty scrape along his jaw, is carrying two lengths of broken metal in one hand and has a bloodied rag tied around the other. Clark can't think of a more welcome sight.

As happy as he is to see Lex, he's overcome with shock, anger and guilt.

Clark thinks he might be sick.

He also thinks he might really want to laugh.

It's not a good place to be.

Lex breaks Clark's body's indecision by grabbing onto his shoulders and saying, "I know, I know. You're shocked that I've somehow managed to remain conscious for one of these ever more commonplace escapades."

Clark lets go of the knot in his stomach and laughs.

"Shocked and amazed," Clark agrees. He's even able to meet Lex's stare for about 2.5 seconds before he notices Lex pointedly not asking questions. As Lex watches Clark's gaze travel to the bloodied portions of his face, Clark's expression twists and Lex feels warmed. He has to remind himself about the bad girl and guys. Prioritize and conquer.

Lex examines their surroundings, decides it's clear, and walks to his car. Clark follows. "Your confidence in my ability to take care of myself is really," says Lex as he reaches under his front fender and extracts a hidden key, "quite heartening."

He's reassured by Lex's apparent full control of his vocabulary and sarcasm. He decides to spill what he knows.

"Jane somebody is in there. She's working with two computers. There are two other guys with her. Your security guards are knocked out and in the south gatehouse," says Clark as Lex opens his trunk and pulls out a pair of boltcutters and a black plastic case.

Clark continues, "Shouldn't we be calling the police?"

Lex then walks around to the front of the car and pops the hood. He removes the distributor cap from the engine and places it in the trunk. He closes the trunk and opens the black case. He removes components and starts sizing them up.

"Lex?"

Lex has the courtesy to look up and raise his eyebrows as he continues to piece together whatever lovely thing he has taken out of the Porsche.

Clark's obviously out of the loop here. He takes a stab in the dark. "Exactly why don't you want anyone to know about this?" he asks.

"Enough anyones already have knowledge of tonight's goings on," Lex says smartly, "There's Jane, her two minions, me and you, you can be my minion if you like."

"Lex," Clark says, exasperated. "You have a plan. What do we need to do?"

"What's wrong Clark?" says Lex. "In a hurry to get back to MAC Glam?"

Clark is pretty sure Lex has lapsed into tongues here. Maybe his grasp on reality is less solid than assumed. The bloodloss, maybe he did take a crack on the head.

"What?" says Clark, yeah, that'll get to the bottom of the mystery.

"Lipstick, Clark," says Lex, "On your neck and continuing at least unto your clavicle."

Lex clicks the last of the mechanism into place, sound like a shot in the quiet.

Lex powers up the thing, which turns out to be some sort of encased palmtop computer with attached plate-sized antenna. It's nifty, kind of James Bond, and Clark would completely be blathering about it if Lex hadn't stolen his power of speech via deft observation.

"All right," Lex says, saving Clark from the silence, "In addition to the land T-1, I have a wireless LAN at the mansion. There's a hub here also and I don't think Jane knows about it because it's completely impractical for this installation. It's what I used before we re-spec'd the entire place."

As Lex continues talking they walk into the shadows. Clark picks up the boltcutters and, being Clark, locks the car. Lex and the palmtop continue their conversation which consists of Lex typing and the machine whirring and beeping. It sounds as if it's going well. Very unlike the talking between him and Lex, which has at this point stopped. Lex sits on the grass. Clark positions himself between Lex and the outside.

He makes himself useful and looks at Jane and company. He can see them through the second floor window, still in basically the same places. Lex is typing faster. Jane suddenly stops typing. She walks to the back of the room, behind some filing cabinets. She beckons the other two and Clark sees her skeletal form pulling and rearranging what he assumes are cables and connectors while their forms move furniture.

Lex doesn't look up from the screen. He asks, "What's going on up there?"

"Jane's moving cables around. The two guys are moving shelves and cabinets to give her access in the back of the room," reports Clark, too quickly, without thinking.

Lex types some more and then shuts the case over the keyboard. He looks up and watches Clark looking intently at the second floor brick wall. He's really going to have to teach him how to look without looking like he's looking. Otherwise how is he ever going to get through college. He's about to tell Clark never to play poker.

Instead he asks, "What did you do to the truck?"

"Four flat tires," answers Clark, swinging his eyes quickly to Lex's face.

Lex nods, "Subtle." Lex then glances at the brick wall.

Before Clark can make with the excuses, he reaches into Clark's lap and takes the boltcutters. Clark starts, and as soon as he stops, Lex grabs his wrist to check out his watch. Clark moves jerkily as he again is startled but tries to cover. Lex laughs. Clark scowls. He can't believe Lex is playing with him. He's sure he looks hurt.

"Not to worry minion," says Lex, "We'll have you back for the full college experience soon."

Clark looks at Lex and rubs his arm where Lex had held him. Lex looks calm, maybe a bit more pale than usual, of course, it could just be in contrast to the bruises now blooming in full. Clark, thinking about the damage, makes a sound.

Lex looks up and again sees that expression on Clark's face. Not just the guilt but something like caring, something like anger and maybe something like lipstick. Huh? Okay, maybe the girl thing is a bit disturbing but it's not like Lex cares. Girl, Clark, Jane, theft, Clark, LexCorp account, Clark.

Lex decides he needs help.

It arrives in the form of beeping and a flashing light from the palmtop antenna. Lex puts down the boltcutters and flips up the screen. Clark watches as Lex reads, then nods and types a short sequence. Lex gets up. Clark tenses. He's on unsure ground, Lex isn't acting like someone who was attacked or whatever this evening, he hasn't been much help, Lex is angry with him and damn it why didn't Pete tell him about the lipstick.

Lex walks to the Porsche and unlocks the passenger door. He digs in the seat and comes up with his cel phone. He checks the display and looks at Clark.

Lex scrolls down his speedial and makes a call.

"Yeah, we'll need a van at the Factory," Lex says, "You'll take three to house in Atlanta. Arrange confidentially. Put them in with Armin, overnight. I'll contact Armin with further instructions."

Lex hangs up the phone and opens the trunk. He takes out the cap and reinserts it into the engine. He walks back the way of the passenger side and opens the door. He sits, half in and half out of the car and makes another call.

"Yes. Warehouse 139th St. and Avenue G. Cleaned, inventoried. Brought to Cadmus. Tonight. Attention Dr. Levy, Account 3124," states Lex, business-like, controlled.

He gives the keys to Clark, motions for him to drive. Actually holds the phone between ear and shoulder to make the steering wheel gesture with his hands. Clark nods his head very slowly and sarcastically and folds himself into the driver's seat.

Lex continues with his calls. He's a maestro and everyone answers even though it's just verging on dawn. Clark pictures minions waiting to be activated. It's not a calming image. Lex leads an army.

Clark hears the a telephone ring inside the Factory, second floor if he's placing it right. Lex talks to Jane and capitulation is finalized. Lex certainly knows his strengths. He clicks off.

Lex looks over, "Clark, we should go, you shouldn't be here."

Clark breathes deep and starts the car. He has a bit of trouble getting into reverse.

Lex looks down at the gearshift. "But I'm glad you were," he says quietly.

Clark gets into gear and pulls out onto the driveway. "Don't forget about the guards."

As they drive to the mansion, Clark can see two black vans and an ambulance heading toward the factory. No doubt an assistant will arrive soon to orchestrate.

Lex is on the phone continuously. From what Clark can tell from Lex's words and demeanor, people are moving, things are being kept, accounts are safe and Jane and the two men are making a lateral move within LexCorp. Basically Lex has use for their talents and would rather have them with him than against him. Money, evidence and compromise seem to provide, if not loyalty at least a shared vision of survival. Clark's going to want more answers but for right now, he's just glad no one was injured and that Lex is going to be home safe soon.

Finally about 5 minutes from the mansion, Lex stops talking, he's just holding the phone to his ear. Clark looks over. Lex folds the phone shut and leans back yawning.

Clark thinks it's cute and vows never to tell Lex.

"Stultum est timere quod vitare non potes," says Lex.

"Hmmmm?" says Clark.

"Latin on the fountain," answers Lex, "back at KU."

"Oh." Clark says, trying to remember all the way back to this afternoon, "What's it mean?"

"It is unwise to be afraid of that which you cannot avoid," Lex tells him.

Clark pulls to a stop in front of the big stone house.

Clark decides that those Romans must have been smart. Although he can't see even the most audacious among them ever contemplating their words having meaning for a teenage extraterrestrial and his slightly worse for wear neighborhood master of the universe.

"Lex, I've got to get back to Pete," he starts.

"Take the car," says Lex.

"Take the car?" he repeats, "You did get hit on the head, this is your new one. The silver blue with the whisper thin tires on the oversize rims, the one even you had to waitlist."

So normal. So Clark. Lex laughs and Clark is glad. He's making a big decision here.

"Lex, I'll be by tomorrow and we'll talk," says Clark. His hand falters toward Lex's face but lands on the steering wheel.

"But no explanation now," says Lex, watching that hand, not a question, more like agreement.

"Yeah, you need to get inside. Maybe Toby should come by," says Clark.

Lex ignores the change of subject and thinks about the wise men of yesteryear.

"What's changed Clark?" he asks.

"It's been a big night," says Clark.

"Yeah, so it would seem," says Lex, "What was her name?" Lex thinks that may have come out a little heated, hard to tell at this point, lots of emotions all to the fore at once.

"Molly," Clark answers automatically.

"And did Molly know what she was doing?" Lex asks, turning to study Clark's face. Lex thinks that it's a friends type question. They're just sharing stories here.

Clark makes his own lateral move.

He turns to face his friend. Lex's tone is guarded but his eyes are kind, understanding, maybe a bit sad. Clark doesn't want that. He'll just give the man the information.

"Yeah," he answers.

"Goes to KU?"

"Freshman"

Clark's hand moves to fidget around the gearshift. Lex doesn't think anything, much.

"Where?"

"Bench"

Clark shifts in his seat, brings his face directly level with Lex's.

"Why?"

"She started it."

Lex laughs.

"Tongue?"

"God yes"

Clark laughs but Lex catches the blush.

"Hmmm. Was that good?" Lex is slightly teasing.

"Yeah"

Clark's eyes telling Lex everything he wants to know. Clark's face pulling closer and closer.

"Were you good?" asks Lex. It's blatant flirting, he can always blame the rap on the head.

"Some, I think," Clark's eyes on nothing but Lex's lips now.

"And what else did this Molly do that you liked so much?" A challenge.

Clark reddens but meets the stare.

"She kind of raised herself up on her knees above me so I had to press up to kiss her."

Lex takes a calculated risk based on Clark's breathing, the proximity of their faces and the fact that he's pretty much reached a breaking point.

"Are you telling me you want me on top Clark?"

"I'm telling you I want you. I'm telling you I know what I want."

Clark holds the look, hold his breath, holds the moment.

"And you want to talk tomorrow?" says Lex, exercising control because Clark is not.

"That too," answers Clark.

"So what's changed Clark?" Lex repeats.

Clark mentally rolls his eyes. Still, he can understand why Lex has trust issues.

"Well Lex, I've really been kissed," he says, with a smirk even.

Lex looks at Clark.

"Not yet you haven't."

Clark has to remember he has lungs. He looks hungry, feels hopeful. He leans in.

Lex gracefully avoids contact but still brings a wash of heat across Clark's skin.

"Come back tomorrow, snodgrass."

Lex leaves the car and waves from the door before Clark has time to undo his seatbelt.

Damn caution.

But Clark knows Lex is right.

He also knows Lex will be right here tomorrow.

Clark checks the grounds and scans the castle one more time.

He then walks to the edge of the property before speeding off to Pete and Thomas and the rest of his life before everything changes.

Clark's body has always been fearless but tonight his heart learned not to be afraid.

Lex walks into his house. Places the pieces of metal and the one-time blindfold in the trash. He won't need anything to help him remember tonight.

He finds his scotch, has a bath, has another bath, gives himself a tetanus shot, makes a fire and falls deeply asleep.

He doesn't dream because tomorrow will be here soon enough.