Disclaimer: Smallville and the concept belongs to Miller and Gough, and Superman and all the characters belong to Sigel and Shuster. And DC, I suppose. The point is, they have the money, they're making the money, and I just admire their toys and occasionally make them to naughty things.

Rating: NC-17

Category: AU Future Fic

Notes: Thanks to Jessica, Sage, PepperjackCandy, and Adrian for the beta job. I'm notorious for my typos, so hopefully we got them all. All remaining errors are mine and mine alone. Also, thanks for everyone's support and encouragement on LJ; the suggestions and comments you all made helped shape the final version.

Summary: In an alternate universe, Lex Luthor is an investigative reporter for the Daily Planet assigned show Clark Kent the ropes, and Lois Lane is a powerful businesswoman and old friend.

"Luthor, get in here!" Perry White, shouted across the news floor.

Lex looked up from his computer to his editor. Perry was standing half in and half out of his office, staring at Lex and he didn't look angry. Now, normally, this would be a good thing; the last thing Lex wanted to do was piss off Perry, intentionally or not. But today, even anger would be better than the expectant look. Not ten minutes ago, a new cub had crossed the news room to Perry's office. As he'd gone by Lex's desk, he'd dropped his eyes, looked at Lex through his eyelashes, and trailed his hand hesitantly over the wood surface. Lex had ignored him, wrapped up in his story as he was, but that didn't mean he hadn't been aware of the kid's presence.

He'd crossed the room and entered the office quietly. Lex hadn't even bothered to figure out what they'd been talking about, an error on his part, he was sure. Because new reporters needed someone to show them the ropes, and had Lex been thinking, he'd have been gone by now.

Perry's face twisted in annoyance. "Luthor! Now!"

He sighed and saved his article. As he crossed the room, Lex pulled a cigarette from the silver plated case he kept in his pocket. On it, etched in amethysts, were the initials LL for Lillian Luthor. With all the warnings and statistics these days, Lex knew he shouldn't smoke. He'd had asthma as a kid, but then, it had disappeared with his hair years before, so that didn't concern him. The fact his mother died of emphysema from smoking should have, but it didn't. He already knew he was more likely to die from a stray bullet, or even murder, than cancer or any kind of disease. Besides, statistics and facts seemed to ignore him, so Lex felt free to ignore them as well.

Plus, there was an added benefit. Perry's wife had threatened to leave if he so much as touched a cigarette. And he hadn't exactly given smoking up of his own volition in the first place, so Lex got a perverse pleasure in torturing him. Especially when it looked as if he were going to get saddled with this new kid.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "You bellowed?" he asked, leaning against the door. Almost possessively, he brushed his fingers across the golden nameplate on the door that read "Perry White, Editor in Chief" and pointedly ignored the kid inside as he met Perry's eyes.

Perry rolled his eyes at Lex's little show and stepped forward. He pushed Lex aside as he closed the door and said "Lex Luthor, this is Clark Kent," without any preamble. Straight and to the point, as always. This was a man who never buried his leads under a heap of niceties.

Lex looked over Kent carefully. "Dork" was the first word that came to mind; Lex couldn't even see his eyes under all the floppy hair and the thick rimmed glasses. The frames were pure sixties nerd, like the ones Paul had worn on that show "The Wonder Years" that Mom had made him watch as a kid. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Why anyone would wear such monstrosities was beyond Lex, especially when in possession of a body like Kent's. Over six feet of gloriously tanned skin and muscle that was, tragically hidden beneath an overlarge brown suit. It was about the color of the bathroom walls in the building and probably cost about as much as Lex's socks.

Lex sighed at the thought of being partnered with someone who wore that suit. Either Kent was color blind and fashion-impaired, or he was trying to blend in the background. Lex understood that desire--it was, after all, a useful trait to have as a reporter--but, with Kent's dramatic coloring, it couldn't be easy. Hence, he assumed, the ugly clothes.

He exhaled a stream of smoke and lifted his cigarette back to his mouth. "Nice to meet you." He inhaled deeply.

And immediately choked when Kent lifted his head and Lex saw the eyes behind the hideous glasses.

"You okay?" Kent asked, sounding concerned.

He hacked a moment and pounded himself on the chest. "Fine," he managed to get out after a minute. "Water?"

Perry snorted. "Not from me. You brought this on yourself."

But Kent was already across the room pouring water from the pitcher into a glass. Then he was by Lex's side, large, warm hand on his back as he handed the glass to Lex.

"Thanks." He drained the glass, ears warm. This was embarrassing; the kid wasn't that attractive, and yet ... there was something in his eyes. And the way he moved.

It wasn't just attraction. There was a story underneath the ugly clothing and awkward grace. It put the reporter in Lex on alert, wanting to uncover it. In more ways than one.

"Are we done with your little fit?" Perry asked, breaking into Lex's thoughts. He sounded annoyed.

"Yes, sir." Lex quickly ground his cigarette out and dropped it into the glass. "Thanks," he added airily, handing the glass back to Kent. It wouldn't do to make the kid think he was too grateful. There was a balance of power to maintain. "What can I do for you?"

Perry rolled his eyes. "Kent's going to be joining us. He's done a lot of freelance work over the past two years, but this is his first professional venture into investigative reporting. Show him the ropes."

Lex sighed. "Sir, I'm too busy ..."

"Luthor!" Perry snapped.

Lex didn't flinch, but Kent did.

"Am I or am I not the editor of this paper?"

"I believe I heard that rumor."

"Do you or do you not work for me?"

"So they say."

"Then, damn it, show him the ropes or you lose your job. Understand?"

He inclined his head and lifted his eyebrow.

"Good. Now get out of my office."

Lex sighed and raised his eyes to the heavens. When they returned to Perry, he lifted his eyebrow in concession and reached into his pocket, ready for another cigarette. Kent cleared his throat as he did, and Lex glanced at him. Their eyes met, Kent's beseeching. Lex sighed and decided he really hadn't wanted another one anyway.

"Very well," he said. He cocked his head as he left Perry's office, indicating Kent should follow. "Hungry?"

Kent fell into step beside him and shrugged. "I guess."

"Good. Let's get lunch. Your treat."

"But .... Sure," he said, sounding resigned and more than a little amused. "Whatever you say."

Lex smiled as he and Kent left the building. This partnership might not be so bad after all.

"So, tell me about yourself," Lex said as he bit into his hotdog. Ten years ago, he never would have touched something like this, especially not from a vendor named Lou who talked too loudly and always smelled of sour whiskey. Now, it was often breakfast, lunch, and dinner and Lex bought Lou a Christmas present for him and his wife every year. "What's the great story behind Clark Kent?"

Kent shrugged and swallowed his bite. "There's not much to tell."

"Uh-huh. Tell me another one." He smiled at Kent's befuddlement. "First lesson in reporting, Kent: everyone has a story. And, generally, when they say there really isn't much to tell, that means there is a whole helluva lot there."

A smile appeared on Kent's face. Lex liked it there.

"Come on," he coaxed. "I'm sure it's at the very least of passing interest. And if I'm going to be saddled with you, I have the right to know something, right?"

"I guess." He turned his head slightly, blue green eyes peering at him from under a thick fringe of lashes. "But it's a little too easy to just tell you, isn't it? No challenge."

"Who said this should be a challenge?" Lex asked. "I'm just trying to get to know the man I've been saddled with."

"Which isn't exactly inducement for me to open up. I mean, your attitude ..." Clark trailed off, shaking his head. A smile tugged at his full lips, though, and his nose wrinkled.

"So we're at an impasse."

"Maybe. But maybe not. I mean, you are the experienced reporter."

Ah. Someone had been talking about him. All right, then, if Kent wanted to play, he would.

Lex took another bite of his dog and leaned against the railing. They were at the park, on the second level which overlooked the central pond. Below them, late afternoon joggers, mothers with toddlers, college students, and dog walkers circled it at leisurely paces. Ducks were fed, people held hands, and all basked in the mellowness of the afternoon.

Lex turned from the scene to study Kent. Clark Kent, six foot four or so, black hair, smooth hands, extremely well built. Cheap clothing which may or may not have anything to do with his current income. Ink stains on his fingertips and one in the corner of this mouth. Mustard in the other corner. Curls tangled. Hunched shoulders. Arms held tightly at his sides when he walked. Awareness in his eyes and posture, like he knew everything that was going on around him.

"You grew up in a small town," Lex finally said. "You weren't popular for some reason, although you've been athletic-looking, at least, forever. But you were bookish and didn't do sports. Again, I'm not sure why. I think you grew up on the outskirts of the small town. Maybe your family were outcasts as a whole. You spent a lot of time hiding. You got into journalism because you're a people watcher and it was a natural outlet." He cocked his head. "I think your family was teetering on the edge of poverty, and that may have been why you weren't popular. Oh," he added almost as an afterthought when Kent's eyes were drawn to something on the path below, "you're also gay."

Kent's head snapped back. "What?"

Lex smiled and finished his hotdog. "I'm sorry, aren't you?" He leaned over the railing to watch the muscular runner who had caught Kent's eyes. Then he looked up at Kent and smiled.

There was a faint blush on his cheeks, but he didn't seem upset. Which was nice since he was bigger than Lex, although Lex wouldn't ever bring that fact to his attention.

"So," he said, handing Kent a napkin. "Where are you from?"

"Smallville," he replied, wiping the mustard.

A shiver of cold went through Lex, prickling his skin uncomfortably. "You don't say?" he said faintly as his hand smoothed over his bare scalp.

Those eyes caught his, wrinkles in the corners. Lex wondered why the kid's eyes seemed neither magnified nor diminished by the lenses, then dismissed the thought.

"Yeah." Kent balled the napkin and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "I was unpopular, I didn't play sports, my best friend got me into journalism. Then I went to Princeton, where ..."

"Where you got laid by a football player," Lex interrupted.

"Soccer, actually," Kent corrected with a smile. He turned and looked at the pond. "They don't get as hugely muscular. Jason wasn't. I mean, he was muscular, but all long lean muscles. He looked thin, actually, even though he wasn't." He glanced at Lex out of the corner of his eyes.

He settled next to Kent, enjoying the feel of the kid's eyes on his skin. "What happened?"

"Life," Kent replied, voice lower than before. "I grew up. We grew apart. Met other people. Same old story." He sighed and rubbed his chin. "Same old story," he repeated. Then he glanced at Lex. "So. Do I get to do you now?"

Coldness settled around Lex like a curtain. He pulled away and glanced at the sun. It was still shining, but it didn't seem as bright. "My story isn't told by other people," he said brusquely. "Let's go." He turned, but was stopped by a large hand wrapping around his upper arm.

"For what it's worth, I think you're right. I don't think your father committed suicide."

Kent was lucky he was bigger than Lex. Lex made it a rule not to hit men who were bigger than him, at least not in public where others could witness him being soundly pummeled into the ground.

He carefully composed his face before turning. When he did, Kent actually flinched away.

"My story," Lex repeated, carefully enunciating each word, "is not told by other people." Then, after extracting his arm from Kent's iron-like grip, he turned and strode away.

Perry White had some strange relationship with Clark, but neither one would tell him what it was. Every morning, Clark brought Perry a cup of coffee from the coffee house by his apartment. Both Perry and Clark swore it had the best coffee in the entire city. Lex had yet to sample the fine nectar, partly out of stubbornness and partly out of petulance. Stubbornness because he refused to ask Clark to bring him a cup and petulance because he wanted Clark to know automatically that he wanted some. Instead, he stuck with the Starbucks next door because, one, it was close and two, it tasted slightly less like roofing tar than did the pot perpetually simmering at the office.

The coffee was part of their relationship. And, since Clark was the one doing what could be interpreted as kissing up, Lex hadn't thought too much about it until Perry had come up to him about three days after Clark started working for the Planet and said, "Take special care of this boy. He's going to be big."

Perry never said that about anybody. Not even Lex, whom he defended like his own son and loved even more. Lex, whom Perry had sat with on countless nights when the darkness inside of Lex had gotten to be too much. Lex, who was a regular dinner/holiday/birthday guest, who had taught Perry's daughter how to play chess and had tea parties with his niece.

Perry had been the one that changed Lex's life around. And ever since, whenever Lex got into trouble, he always knew Perry would not only help him get out, but accept him without thinking less of him. Yes, he'd bellow and scream, but he'd still ... love Lex just as much.

And he was asking Lex to take special care of Clark.

Right. Lex had responded to Perry's order by immediately getting Clark into the middle of a shootout. They'd been at a liquor store so Lex could get a pack of cigarettes when an armed robber held the place up. It'd escalated into a hostage situation, and then a shootout, until Clark had somehow managed to push a rack of pastries onto the robber.

The article had been fantastic. Clark had real talent as a writer, and visions of Pulitzers danced in Lex's head, especially when they were assigned a major story. He began to warm up to the idea of a partnership, and Perry had been happy that Lex had stopped bitching to him about it.

Which was why it was so strange that, a little over two weeks after Clark was hired, Perry stormed out of his office, red-faced and foaming at the mouth, screaming, "Kent! My office now!"

Both Lex and Clark looked up from the computer screen they were sharing.

They were working on a new story. Someone was dumping illegal chemicals about twenty miles outside of a town called Grandville. So far, one child was dead and two others were deathly ill. Tension was rising. Clark and Lex had spent the last three days out at the dumping site, interviewing parents and local authorities.

Just before Perry had bellowed, Clark and Lex had been reading toxicology reports together. They were at Lex's computer, and he'd been valiantly trying to get control of the mouse. Trying, but not succeeding since Clark's hand had been covering his own and his warm breath was caressing Lex's ear. They weren't flirting, not really, but the feeling of Clark so near to him was definitely causing some non-kosher stirrings in Lex's stomach.

And then, unexpectedly, Perry had burst from his office, red faced and hollering for Clark.

"What did you do?" Lex asked, eyes on their editor. He knew from experience that when Perry looked and sounded as he did now, you were seriously fucked.

Before Clark could answer, Perry bellowed again, "Kent. Office. Now!"

"You better go," he whispered.

"Yeah." Clark stood and walked slowly across the news floor. His shoulders were hunched even more than usual, and his steps were slow and ponderous. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, and looked every inch the kicked puppy.

The look Perry gave Clark as he entered made Lex melt into a puddle of shame. He'd been on the receiving end a thousand times himself, and it wasn't fun. There was just something about Perry that made you want to do your best, and, if you failed, curl up and die.

Lex moved his chair slightly, needing a better view. He wanted to know what was going on before Perry called him in to chew him a new one as well. And, if he wasn't in trouble, then at least he'd know why Clark was.

At first, Perry had his back turned to the window, and Lex despaired. He was a good lip reader, but not so good he could read through someone's head. As it was, he wasn't sure how he'd be able to get Clark's words. Even if Clark turned around, he was still hanging his head.

Perry turned, giving Lex a clear view. "Are you completely stupid?" he asked Clark. There was a long pause in which Lex assumed Clark was answering, then said, "How often do you do this, Clark? And how long?" Then he glanced out the window and saw Lex watching. Scowling at Lex, he closed the blinds.

Shit. Well, that was just great. What the fuck ...

His phone rang.

"Daily Planet. Lex Luthor speaking."

"Hello, Lex, this is Dominic Senatori."

Lex sighed and glanced at the toxicology report on the computer screen. Grabbing the mouse, he hit print and then leaned back in his seat. "What can I do for you, Dom?"

"There is to be a charity event on the eighteenth. At Lane Towers. Ms. Lane has requested that you attend."

A lopsided smile crossed his face, and he reached for the box of cigarettes he kept on his desk. Cherry wood, very expensive, initials LL on the lid standing for Lionel Luthor.

"Is this an invitation, or a command appearance?"

"Whichever you like."

"Put her on the phone."

Dominic hummed deep in his throat before he replied, "I'm sorry, Lex, but you know that Ms. Lane is a very busy woman. She doesn't have time to speak with everyone who demands her time."

Lex rolled his eyes. "True, but I'm an old friend. I'm sure she'll make an exception."

"And, again, she has many old friends."

"Would you just ask her?

Now Dominic sighed, sounding very put out. "Lex, Lex, Lex. I'm very busy, too. If Ms. Lane hadn't personally requested I call you, you wouldn't be receiving this personal invitation right now. I'm pulled in so many directions, I ..."

"I notice that, even though you're busy, you have enough time to give me every single fucking detail about why you're too busy to put a simple call through."

"Well ..."

"And, you weren't too busy the other night when you were at that club dancing with someone I'm pretty sure was underage and makes his living dancing and, might I suggest, playing with older men such as yourself?"

Lex's statement was met with silence. He grinned and tipped his seat back. "Dom?"

He cleared his throat. "One moment, please. I'll transfer you now."

Lex smiled and lit his cigarette. Again, he glanced at Perry's office. With the noise in the newsroom, he couldn't hear what was going on, and it was driving him crazy. Clark was a good kid; what had he done get Perry so steamed?

"Lex?"

"Lois, hello. It's nice to hear your voice again."

She snorted. "Yes, you too. What did you hold over Dominic this time?"

"The idea that his playmate at a club a contact saw him with last week might not have been legal."

"Was he?"

"How the hell would I know?" He took another drag on his cigarette before tapping it against the ash tray. "Now, what's this I hear about a charity event?"

"It's for starving reporters. I thought that having a few might make people more apt to donate money."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Amusing."

"It's been awhile since we've seen each other. I miss you." She was pouting.

Lex sighed. "I don't want to be paraded around like a charity case. I'm not an endangered whale or an orphan in Uganda or anything. I'm a professional journalist."

There was a beat of silence.

"Lois?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you done with the sob song?"

Lex sighed. There was no talking to this woman.

"I want you there, Lex. For old times sake. It's been months since we've gotten together, and I miss you." She sounded sincere. "The official invitation's in the mail, I just wanted to make sure you got it. Unlike last time."

He snorted and puffed at his cigarette. Last time, he'd thrown away the invitation. The day after the event, Lois had showed up at his apartment in a righteous huff, demanding to know why he'd missed the event (which had been her birthday party). They'd fought and screamed at one another and then, typically, fucked frantically for hours. Not exactly an experience Lex wanted to repeat, not that Lois was bad in bed or anything. But their relationship was already unhealthy enough as it was; they didn't need to throw sex back into the mix.

The door to Perry's office opened and Clark skulked out, looking like he'd been beaten.

"I'll be there," Lex promised. "I've got to go."

"But, Lex ..."

"Bye." He hung up and watched as Clark slowly walked across the news floor to him. His head hung, chin resting on his chest. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and eyes hidden by the heavy hair hanging over them.

Lex ground out his cigarette. Rising from his desk, he met in the center of the newsroom and said, "I need to get out of here for awhile. Wanna go get a drink?"

Clark looked at him gratefully and nodded.

They grabbed their coats and went out into the crisp autumn air. Side by side, they walked down the street, listening to the beat and pulse of the city.

"You know," Lex said after they'd walked about half a mile in silence, "my entire life, I lived in absolute fear of my father. He was ... autocratic and harsh. Not easy to please. Even though I did everything I could to live up to his expectations and please him, I always fell short." Lex snorted. "Obviously. I mean, everyone knows it's mainly because of me there is no more LuthorCorp." He shrugged. "And, despite all that, despite all the thousands of times I failed my father, no one makes me feel quite as bug-like as Perry White."

Clark snorted. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"I never really got what it meant to really disappoint anyone, either. I mean, deep down, I know that the LuthorCorp thing wasn't all my fault. Dad has his own hand in that. I just came up with the plan. And I spent my life not being good enough, so when I disappointed Dad, it didn't seem to hurt as much, I guess. But Perry." Lex sighed. "From the moment he hired me, I wanted to prove myself. And, for the first time in my life, I did. I constantly heard what a talented writer I was, and how I was going to go far. I didn't know what to do with it. No matter what I did, Perry seemed to think I was doing fine. I mean, he always had corrections and suggestions, and he yelled and hollered if it looked like I was going to miss the deadline, but he didn't seem to see anything wrong with me. So, I, uh, lashed out or something. Cut a few corners and got a little sloppy." Lex licked his lips and glanced at Clark. "I didn't research something properly, and fell into a huge legal mess. Perry, man, just tore into me. Locked me in his office for over an hour, yelling at me and just letting me know how badly I fucked up."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I deserved it. I'd gotten cocky and paid the price. But, even though he was angry, and even though I was devastated I'd let him down, he never made me feel as if I was unredeemable. And the more he yelled, the more I realized it wasn't just him I'd let down. It was myself." A pain lanced through his head suddenly on remembering how the rest of the day went. With a trembling hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled a cigarette out.

"What's the matter?"

He shook his head as he lit up. "Nothing," he answered after he'd filled his lungs with the welcomed smoke. "I just .... That was the day I found Dad. And everything just went downhill from there."

"That's when you tried to commit suicide, right?" Clark said softly. "I mean, the time period, not the day."

Lex nodded. "Vicodin and Scotch. A man's best friend." He hated admitting it, but his life was, after all, public record, even though Lex constantly wished otherwise. "Needless to say, I wasn't able to write about my own suicide attempt. And Perry .... He didn't even wait until I was out of the hospital to rip me in two. I was still on suicide watch in the psych ward when he burst in, swearing and shouting. Security dragged him out of the ward, and he fought the whole way. He was almost arrested."

"I'm not surprised."

"No. It's in character." He took another drag of his cigarette, his head pounding. "So, yeah. When I let Dad down, my response was to go out, party, and do it again. When I let Perry down, all I want to do is prove to him and myself that I'm better than that."

Clark looked at him a moment. His eyes were so sad, heartbroken almost.

Lex frowned. Okay, maybe that wasn't what had happened with Clark. Of course not; how could have been so stupid. Perry worshiped the ground Clark walked on, there was no way he'd ever let Perry down.

Fuck, he was an ass.

But Clark reached out and touched his arm. "Thanks," he said softly. "I know how hard that is for you."

"What?" Lex tossed the cigarette away.

"Sharing that. That was an important story."

"Yeah, but it wasn't applicable to the situation, was it? You haven't let Perry down, what do my past transgressions matter?"

"I understand you a little better, now. Which, maybe you don't want me to, but I really want to understand you, Lex. And just because your story doesn't exactly match mine doesn't mean I appreciate it any less. I mean, we've known each other almost two weeks, and that's the first time you've shared anything important."

"You don't exactly share the deep dark secrets of your life with me, Clark," Lex said, leaning in. "And I know you have them."

"Yeah, but, it's hard to even get underneath that first layer with you." He sighed and closed his eyes. One hand came up and rubbed his forehead as his mouth crimped.

Right. This was not about Lex and his hang-ups. He'd shared a personal story that was out of context, which was embarrassing, and yet Clark had accepted it so gracefully. And thankfully, as if Lex had given him a great gift.

Strangely, it only made Lex want to make everything better for Clark even more.

"Come on." He grabbed Clark by the sleeve and pulled him into the bar a few doors further down. They snagged a booth in the back, ordered a couple of beers, and then sat nursing them quietly.

"Can I look at you a moment?" he finally asked. Sitting there waiting for Clark to talk wasn't working; he was going to have to do this himself.

Clark raised a bemused eyebrow and nodded.

Lex took a sip of his beer, eyes on Clark. He loved looking at Clark, even when it wasn't to study him. Underneath all the awkwardness and ill-fitting clothes was genuine grace and beauty. And his eyes were the most beautiful that Lex had ever seen, even hidden by the glasses.

He studied everything again, everything he'd been looking at since they'd been partnered. The awful glasses and clothes still tugged at him, but that wasn't what he was interested in right now. They were separate from the man, of that Lex was certain. So he focused, looking at the eyes that were almost teary, and the cheeks reddened in shame. The way his chest rose and fell as if Clark hadn't quite recovered his dignity, and the restless hands that smoothed the label of the beer bottle over and over.

The story began to unfold, helped this time by his knowledge of the kid's family life from conversations they'd had. "You were a very good boy growing up," Lex said slowly. "You almost never got in trouble, and when you did, your punishment was that your parents were angry with you. It was worse when you were a teenager, because you were very headstrong and independent, and they didn't always agree with your choices. But," he reached out and touched the back of Clark's hand, "I think you always do what you feel is right in the end."

This time the smile wasn't on his lips but in his eyes. The shoulders relaxed and lines around his eyes eased. "I love it when you look at me," Clark said softly.

And I love to look, Lex wanted to reply, but he didn't. It was too much.

Clark sighed and looked away. "You know, he wasn't really mad at me. Just worried. I get that. I always get that. I just wish that, for once, people would get that I know what I'm doing."

"I get that. I've only known you a short time, but I know. You have amazing instincts, and a good head. You've got this inner calmness going for you that I wouldn't expect of someone your age. I trust you to know what you're doing."

"No, you don't."

Startled, Lex frowned.

"You're such a contradiction. You test my reporting and observation skills all the time, and even though you know I know all about your past, you won't let me in."

"Why should I? You're a kid, Clark. A new reporter partnered with me until you learn the ropes. In a few months, you'll be on your own."

"But that won't stop us from being friends."

"Friends." Lex pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "Are we friends?"

"I like to think we are." Clark reached across and stopped Lex from raising the cigarette with a gentle touch. "Look, I asked Perry to partner us. I've been reading your articles for years, and they're so good. Insightful and intelligent and perfectly written. I knew I could learn a lot from you."

"I see." Lex pulled his arm away and inhaled on his cigarette.

"But there's more. Because you've always been so much in the public eye. And I know how much people have tried to make you look bad in your life. I find it admirable that, despite everything you've been through, you've pushed on and made a name for yourself. And anyone who can do that is worth learning from."

"Oh?"

Clark nodded. "You're an amazing reporter, Lex. An amazing person."

He snorted. "So you thought before working with me."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Please. Do you think I flirt this much with people I don't think are amazing?"

"I thought we weren't flirting. We agreed not to."

Clark smiled and batted his eyelashes. "No, you agreed not to. I did no such thing."

"Oh. Right," he muttered.

"I just wish that you'd show some faith in me. I have so much in you."

Oh, God, the faith card combined with the big puppy eyes and the wounded expression. Lex just wasn't strong enough against that, and it wasn't fair. Especially since strong fingers were playing with his fingertips, drawing all his concentration to them.

Fuck it. Whatever. He'd already inadvertently revealed the worst; how bad could it be?

He pulled his hand out of Clark's and wrapped it around his beer. Leaning back, he raised his eyebrows at Clark and said, "So? Impress me already." His heart started to pound.

A grin blossomed over his face and Clark took a long drink of his beer. When he set it down, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay." For a long moment, he rested his eyes on Lex's face, narrowing them minutely. When he spoke, he did so slowly, "You worshiped your mother, and you still miss her every day. You have mixed feelings about your father, but you still loved him. Even though journalism wasn't your first choice, now you can't imagine doing anything else. You care about people, and you look where other people don't. Your articles are amazing, Lex." His eyes shone into Lex's. "The insights you have, and the care you put into them. Your heart shines through."

He felt his ears warm. The beer did nothing to quench the dryness in his throat.

"You drink your coffee black with two sugars. Even though you won't say it, you want me to bring you coffee in the morning like I do Perry."

Lex looked at him guiltily.

Clark smiled. "I'll bring you one tomorrow, I promise. And every day after. Trust me, it's the best coffee in the world." He licked his lips and ran his eyes over Lex again. "Your favorite color is purple, but you pretend it's blue. You like brunettes." Clark leaned across the table. "You think I'm cute."

He said the last lightly and playfully, letting Lex know it was over. It was over. He'd survived, thank God. He'd been so afraid Clark would bring up something that he didn't want brought up. Like how he was terrified of his attraction, or how he kept people at a distance and ended up with almost no friends. This stuff, the fluff, Lex could handle.

Even though he knew Clark saw much more. He did trust Clark. It was himself he didn't.

But, right now, he had a challenge. He smirked and leaned across until he and Clark were almost nose and nose. "Yes," he said slowly. "I do think you're cute. But, I'd think you be cuter without these." He pulled Clark's glasses from his face and set them on the table.

Clark blinked, trepidation entering his eyes. His cheeks turned pink and he tensed, wide blue-green eyes searching Lex's intently.

"Yeah," Lex whispered. "That's better. Although ..." He reached up and brushed Clark's hair away from his face. Then, he ran his fingers through the thick, lustrous hair. It was silky and fine, and there was so much of it. It threaded through Lex's hair like satin and he couldn't stop combing his fingers through it.

"Do you do this on purpose?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"The clothes, the hair. The hiding."

Clark shrugged. "It's just who I am, Lex. If you want a pretty partner, well, I'll be gone in a few months. You can order yourself one."

Lex rolled his eyes and pulled away. He picked up the glasses and started to hand them back to Clark when something caught his eye.

They didn't magnify anything. They were flat. Nothing. Fake.

He swallowed and finished putting them back on Clark's face. "Ah well," he said with a smile. "I guess this is a face I can get used to." Lex sat back and picked up his beer. "Better?"

Clark was blushing furiously, which was adorable. "Yeah," he said. "Much."

Clark Kent was, in many ways, like an overgrown puppy. He was cute and floppy around the edges, and you wanted to pull him into your lap and cuddle him. But, at the same time, he was young and unfinished and too damn innocent.

But, he was also a brilliant writer and good journalist which is why Lex decided to take him to Lois' charity gala. Even though Lex still had reservations about going, he knew he had to. There was every indication that Lane Enterprises was behind the illegal chemical dump story he and Clark were working on, the one that had now claimed the lives of five children and two adults. The urgency was driving at Lex, and he wanted to nail someone soon. And, if it happened to be Lois, so much the better.

"I don't understand why she invited you," Clark said as he and Lex walked towards the hotel Lois was having her party in. "I mean, I thought the two of you were ..." He trailed off and shrugged, obviously hesitant.

He tried not to wince. Lois Lane was part of the most painful events of his life, and one of the most important. She was one of the main reasons he was no longer heir to an enormous fortune, and LuthorCorp was now just a memory. And everyone in the world knew that. Lex himself had written about what had happened, leaving no detail out as he'd exposed himself in the most painful way, stopping just short of whoring himself out completely. Perry had assured him many times that what he'd done wasn't whoring himself, and the public deserved to know the truth, and Lex was good writer and he deserved to tell his own story.

But that hadn't made it any easier. He'd told the story publicly once. And each time since, it'd felt as if he was peeling another layer of his skin away.

But Clark was gazing down at him earnestly, wanting to understand. And he did deserve to know what Lex was dragging him into.

So, he swallowed hard and said, "No, we're not friends. Or, we shouldn't be, at least, but there's something between us that's stronger than friendship and no matter how hard we try, we can't stop orbiting each other." He pulled his cigarette case from his tux jacket. "She screwed me over, was the instrument of LuthorCorp's demise, but it wasn't anything I wasn't trying to do to her."

"But she had your father killed."

Lex stiffened and turned quickly. It was an automatic response, one he'd never quite been able to control. No one spoke about his father to him, and he refused to listen if they tried. He'd heard his fill in the days after finding the body, listened to the dirty laughter and innuendo. Listened to police and reporters alike sully Lionel Luthor's name, painting him as a coward who couldn't handle a setback.

Or his son's betrayal.

He was trying to get away from Clark, cross the street, something, but Clark caught him before he could even step off the curb. His grip on Lex's arm was like iron. Lex struggled against it even as he realized it would be useless.

He stopped struggling. Not looking at Clark, he pulled out his cigarette case. He lit it, took a deep drag, and then exhaled in a steady stream. "Let me go," he finally said in a clipped tone.

The hands loosed slightly, but didn't release him. "No. I'm worried about you. You're already so tense tonight."

"I'm going to go see an ex-lover I can't seem to stay away from, one who helped to ruin me and my family, and my partner is digging where he shouldn't."

"I'm not digging. I only want to understand."

This time, Lex did look at him. "Understand what?"

"You."

There was a moment of tense silence. Lex found himself caught in Clark's eyes, uncertainty flooding him. He hated feeling like this. He was Lex Luthor, damn it. He shouldn't be uncertain.

And yet, this kid kept him completely off guard. His eyes saw too much and said too much. They made Lex feel naked and exposed, but, at the same time, safe and protected.

Clark Kent was dangerous.

Clark sighed, his breath pluming out in the frosty air. "We have to get to the party," he said softly. Then he took the cigarette from Lex's fingers and ground it out. "You shouldn't smoke. It's bad for you."

"Lots of things are. Doesn't stop me. Besides, what business is it of yours?"

Guileless blue-green eyes gazed at him through worthless lenses. The glasses were only one of the many secrets that Lex had discovered over the past few weeks. Fake glasses. Hands that were too fucking smooth and perfect even for a reporter, unless Clark was getting a manicure every week. But his nails were uneven, and no one who dressed like Clark did would spend so much time on his hands anyway. They way he disappeared from the building without notice, only to return an hour later, mussed and glowing, insisting that he'd merely been talking to a contact.

So many secrets, but Lex let them go as part of a silent pact. If he didn't pry, Clark didn't pry.

But, lately, especially in the past few days, Clark had been ... well, not prying, exactly, but trying to get closer to Lex. And Lex, damn it, wasn't as unreceptive to a greater intimacy as he wanted to believe he was.

Hesitantly, Clark ran his finger down Lex's face. "You're my partner, Lex. I care about you." His lips twitched. "You are my business."

"For now. Once you get on your feet ..."

"I am on my feet. And after we break this story, there is no way Perry will let us apart. We're a team, and we look out for each other."

He swallowed hard and clutched Clark's jacket. "Don't ever talk about my father again," he said, voice tight. Then he pulled away. "Come on. We're late."

"Yeah, but fashionably so. Lex, hold on."

Lex stopped and allowed Clark to circle him.

The kid flashed him that smile that he did too well, the one that made Lex's insides twist. "Your tie is crooked." Graceful fingers straightened it for him, and then lingered a moment. "Are you ready?"

He realized what Clark was asking and closed his eyes. For a long moment, he concentrated on his breathing, willing the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders to unclench.

"Let's go," he said after a moment. He opened his eyes to find Clark still in front of him, gazing at him through unreadable eyes. "I'm fine. Just watch my back tonight, okay? Lois is a real bitch."

"I swear I won't leave your side."

The walked the rest of the block. Lex flashed their invitation to the doorman and was let inside; Lois had said "Lex Luthor and guest," as she always did. This was the first time Lex had brought a date, even though, technically, Clark wasn't a date. He was there to work, as they both were. To mingle, to network, and to get contacts to call on later. It was business.

But, as they stepped into the elevator to go to the ballroom at the top of the building, Lex allowed himself to pretend, just for an instant, it was a date. He had a feeling that Clark would be more understanding than anyone he'd ever dated had been. He was intuitive, Clark was, and he would know that although Lex hated Lois, he couldn't, as he said, stay away from her. She and Lex had too long a history.

They'd known each other practically since birth. Their mothers had been friends and had married within the span of few months. Lois and Lex had been born weeks apart. They'd gone to preschool together, then an academy in Metropolis. The first time they'd been separated was after Lex's accident in Smallville, when he'd been caught in the meteor shower and lost his hair. Lex had been sent to a prep school in New England after that.

At twelve, while Lex ha been home for summer vacation, Lois had beaten up someone who'd made fun of Lex for being bald. At fifteen she'd ruined a girl's reputation for spreading rumors that Lex was gay. At sixteen, she'd been the first girl Lex had slept with. At nineteen, they'd talked about getting married.

And then, at twenty-one, Lois and her father had taken LuthorCorp.

In retrospect, Lex felt it had been his fault. He'd been the one to convince his father to ruin Lane Enterprises, but he hadn't wanted it to affect Lois. His plan had been to ruin the company and hire Lois, maybe even marry her, never thinking how humiliating it would be for her. As he, Lois, and his father had schemed, Lex hadn't realized Lois was making her own plans, ones that included his downfall.

Lois had offered him a job at Lane Enterprises after things had settle down. He'd refused, and had gone on a binge which had ended with him in his favorite club pounding drinks until he wasn't quite sure what his name was. It'd been enough to forget what had driven him there so, when a guy had cruised him, he'd gone alone willingly.

He passed out before they got to the guy's apartment. The next morning, Lex had woken in the frilliest, girliest bedroom he'd ever been in. His head had split open and he was naked, dried sweat making his skin stiff and the suspicious taste of vomit in his mouth.

It took him forty-five minutes of hot water to make him feel remotely comfortable in his skin. Unable to find clean clothes, he'd wrapped a towel around his waist and went into the living room.

Where he found Perry White sitting on the couch. Perry White, who just four years before had tricked Lex into an interview, humiliating Lex and enraging his father.

He'd lunged at Perry, only to stop when Perry's wife, Sara, had appeared with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she'd asked, apparently undisturbed by either his nudity or murderous intentions towards her husband.

Lex had frozen immediately, humiliation painting himself red.

"She's a terrific cook," Perry had said. "Makes a mean omelet."

Sara had smiled and said, "Whatever you want, Mr. Luthor."

"Uh. Just toast. And aspirin," he'd finally managed, and she'd left to fill his order, leaving him alone with Perry.

Perry, who had a lot to say and an interesting proposition.

"This is the story of a lifetime," Perry had said. "An empire fallen. This is the story that's going to make me editor of the most prestigious paper in Metropolis. All I need is your help."

"What do I get out of it?" he'd asked, nursing the coffee.

Perry had hesitated. "Well. What do you want?"

Lex had smiled slowly, and something in his expression actually made Perry White, the fearless reporter, flinch. But his thoughts actually hadn't been that sinister. He'd minored in journalism in college and loved it. In fact, he'd often threatened to quit LuthorCorp and go into journalism. And, even though he'd never been serious, there was always a little bit of melancholy when he thought of what his life might had been like without the destiny his father had set out for him.

So, finally, he'd told Perry, "I'll write the article myself. Share the byline. You get editor, I get a job."

After an hour of debate, Perry agreed.

Lois had been furious. Lex had done everything he could to shed suspicion on Lane Enterprises' business practices, suspicion that he knew was well founded. For months afterwards, every news, political, legal, and consumer agency had hounded her company. Stock prices fell. Board members bailed. Lane Enterprises teetered on extinction.

And Lionel Luthor committed suicide.

Two months later, things stabilized. Lane Enterprises once again became the strongest corporation in the world, and Lois began toying with Lex.

For his part, Lex bottomed out within a month of Lionel's death. And, for weeks after, as he recovered, he'd been consumed by darkness and depression, unable to function. He'd lived with Perry, sleeping in the hideously decorated room until he finally achieved a semblance of normalcy. Once he'd recovered, Lex had been cautiously happy with his life. Not all at once, and not all the time, but still. A desperate guilt still clung to him, guilt over failing his father, of being unable to prevent his death, and of failing again and again at uncovering the truth. But, still. There was something like happiness.

He knew Lois had had Lionel killed. He believed it more strongly than he'd ever believed anything in his life. He just couldn't prove it. So he allowed Lois to toy with him, to try to humiliate him in front of his former colleagues. Every party, he got a scoop. Every gathering was a story. He'd uncovered scandals, discovered the answers to unsolved mysteries, ruined lives while saving others, all from being in the same room as Lois.

It was only her he couldn't touch, and that was maddening.

The elevator doors opened and Lex and Clark stepped into the crowded room. "Do you dance?" Lex asked, looking out at the dance floor.

"Why? Do you want to?" Clark put his hand on Lex's back.

He smiled up at Clark. "Uh, thank you, but that's not what I meant. Dancing is a good way to get scoops. Older women especially like to talk to cute young things." He smiled mockingly. "In other words, you. I think you'll be on dancing duty tonight."

"What about you?"

"I ..."

"Lex!" Lois' voice rang out over the din.

He sighed. "I have Lois duty. Brace yourself."

Clark, who hadn't moved his hand from Lex's back, flattened it. Warmth flowed through Lex, as well as inappropriate tingling, but, with Clark's support, he was able to hold his head up and wait for Lois with a smile.

She appeared in front of them, all smiles and grace. She was impeccably dressed in a back satin gown and pearls. A beautiful pearl brooch was pinned just above her heart, breasts swelling over the low neckline. Her dark brown hair was piled on her head in some elaborate do, and she smelled of Chanel. Her nails were ruby red to match her lips and Lois was, as always, stunningly beautiful.

"I'm so happy you came," she said, kissing him on both cheeks.

"You know I almost never miss a Lane event," he replied, returning the kiss. "You look beautiful."

"I know." Lois' smile grew, and her nose wrinkled a little. "Thank you. You look, as ever, devastatingly handsome. And who's this?" Her bright blue eyes turned to Clark, devoured him, and spat him back out.

"Clark Kent," he introduce himself.

"Clark Kent. I've never heard of you before."

"He's my ... partner," Lex faltered. He glanced at Clark, who simply smiled back. "And friend."

"Congratulations," she said dismissively. "Now, my darling Lex, I am simply swamped with people to see, but talk with Dominic, and we'll do lunch soon."

"I'd be honored."

"And dance with me later. Oh, dance with me right now, what am I saying?" Lois held her hand out for him. "I'll be too busy later."

He smiled at her, pleased that he was still in control of himself enough not to sigh or roll his eyes. Instead, he took her arm and glanced at Clark. "Mingle, Clark. Ask questions. Socialize."

"Oh, Lex, you aren't working are you?" Lois pouted. Her narrowed eyes returned to Clark with a new suspicion. "I thought he was your partner."

"He is. At the Planet."

She pouted. "Oh. I thought he was your lover. And I was so happy you settled down."

Yes, he was sure she had been. PR was one of Lois' strong suits, and she always knew the right thing to say, even to him. He had no doubt she really had thought they were lovers, but he did doubt she'd been happy for him.

Clark turned bright red at the insinuation. "Ah, no, ma'am," he said, looking as if he were going to burn up. His eyes apologized to Lex.

Lex grinned in delight and took Clark's hand. "But he is cute," Lex said, and squeezed Clark's hand. Cute actually didn't do him justice; beautiful was closer, but Lex had a rule about sleeping with coworkers. He'd made it just three weeks ago, and so far, he was doing well.

"Well. If you must work, do it casually. These are important people here. Don't annoy my guests."

Clark bowed slightly. "I promise you I won't." He squeezed Lex's hand, dropped it, and wandered off into the crowd.

Lois turned to Lex as he led her to the dance floor. "Really, Lex, how could you? This is a charity event. What on earth do you think you'll find here?"

"Nothing," he answered honestly as they glided around the floor. "I think this event is impeccable and there is nothing illegal or immoral going on. However, the same can't be said for Lane Enterprises, or many of your guests, and Clark feels that, perhaps, if he talks to the right people ..."

"What do you think I've done, Lex-love? You must have some suspicion."

"What do I have to be suspicious of?" he replied, face blank. He hid his smile at her irritation and kept dancing.

And then, suddenly, they weren't dancing.

Lex inhaled sharply as the gun pressed into his neck. The barrel was cold, but not quite as cold as his body, which had turned to ice.

"Come quietly with us, Ms. Lane," a man said softly. His voice was like gravel and his breath brushed over Lex's ear in a way that made him shudder.

Lois narrowed her eyes and looked over Lex's shoulder at his attacker. "Go ahead and shoot him. By the time he hits the floor, you'll have a hundred guards all over you."

"Yes, but you'll be dead too." Lex was shoved into Lois' body. The gun moved so it was placed into Lex's back, pressing with bruising force.

Shit, shit, shit! Why wasn't anyone saying anything? What the fuck was going on?

He glanced over Lois' shoulder. Somehow, as they were dancing, they'd made their way to a secluded part of the room. It actually happened a lot when they were together, like some animal instinct drove them to privacy just in case. They were out of the view of most of the people, and the few people nearby were too preoccupied with each other to witness what was going on.

Great. Just fucking great.

"The bullet will go right through him, Ms. Lane. You'll die instantly." A hand reached around Lex and stroked his neck. "We just want to talk, Ms. Lane."

"Lois," Lex hissed, not sure what he wanted her to do. He wasn't sure what he should do, either. He could turn and try to take the guy out, but there was a man behind Lois, leaning against the wall. He was smoking serenely, but when Lex met his eyes, the man opened his jacket to reveal a gun. And, as Lex frantically looked around again, he saw five other similar men, all in black tuxes, red ties, and black carnations pinned into their buttonholes. Each man had his right hand casually resting on the inside of their jacket about the height where a gun would be.

"We're surrounded," Lex breathed into Lois' ear. "It's us or everyone."

Lois didn't give any indication she'd heard. Her eyes were diamond hard, lips pressed together in a thin line. Gazing at their abductors, she touched her chest and said, "Very well. But he goes free."

"No. He comes with us."

The hand left his neck and grabbed his arm. As he was tugged away from Lois, the man behind her approach and took her arm in a similarly bruising grip.

The gun pressed into Lex's side, and he looked at his abductor. Black tux, red tie, black flower, dark hair, pale skin. He didn't look familiar, even in profile, and Lex couldn't remember any organization who's symbol was a black flower.

"What are you doing?" Lex hissed to Lois as they were led out the fire exit. "I thought you didn't negotiate with terrorists." The last time someone had tried to kidnap Lois, her father had told her kidnappers to take her and refused to concede to their demands. Had Lex not inadvertently rescued her while chasing the story, she'd probably be dead by now.

"Of course we don't," she said brusquely. Then she tripped.

They were being herded up narrow stairs to the helicopter pad on the upper roof, Lex knew. There was hardly any room for all of them, and Lois' heels were treacherous.

"Stop gabbing," the man holding Lois growled. He yanked her back to her feet, causing her to cry out in pain.

"I'm not gabbing. I'm telling you that you're not going to get what you want. Lane Enterprises doesn't ahh!" she shrieked as the man thrust her into the wall. The banister dug into her back, and she inhaled painfully.

"Stop it!" Lex's abductor ordered, grabbing his partner. "We don't have time for this." Then he turned to Lex and placed the gun against his temple. "Tell your girlfriend to come peacefully, or her dress get splattered with your brains."

Lex stared into the dead eyes of his captor and knew he was fucked. He was dead no matter what, and there was no fucking way he was going to die for Lois Lane. Taking a deep breath, he tensed, ready to spring, when suddenly Lois said, "I'll cooperate."

Both Lex and his captor looked at her.

Lois was trembling, tears in her eyes from the pain. Her head was being forced back from the gun that was pressed against her neck. "I'll cooperate," she repeated, hands coming up to her chest. She pressed hard into it. "Don't hurt him."

What the fuck was she doing? What was ....

Lois lowered her hand, fingers brushing over the brooch she was wearing.

And Lex understood. It wasn't jewelry. It was a panic button.

Lex relaxed minutely. Thank fucking God; he might live to get a story out of this after all.

He and Lois allowed themselves to be ushered up to the roof. A helicopter was on the roof, rotors turning, making the brisk air whip around them. More men were waiting for them, less formally attired than the ones inside. They wore combat and carried machine guns, ammunition strapped across their chests.

As Lex, Lois, and their captors emerged, these men ran across the roof and grabbed them, dragging them faster.

"Did anyone notice?" one shouted over the din.

"No. But we don't have time; someone will notice she's gone."

Lex was unceremoniously tossed into the helicopter. He was thrust into a seat, and a man grabbed his hands, trying to tie them together with a rope. Lex struggled and fought until he was backhanded so hard he saw stars.

That's when things went hazy. He heard Lois struggling, and the threats and curses thrown her way. He felt the helicopter rise slightly, and then swearing. There was gunfire, shouts of, "Halt!" and "Stop!" Lois started to scream orders and fight herself. He was hit again as the butt of the pistol slammed into the side of his head.

Lois screamed his name. Gunfire sounded again, louder this time.

Lex remembered feeling the impact of the bullet in his arm, but not the pain. He did remember Lois grabbing him and trying to pull him out of the helicopter, but then she gasped and the whole thing swayed dangerously.

"We're in the air," she said, and then grabbed him, another cry escaping her mouth.

A gust of wind hit the 'copter and it swayed again. Then, there was a terrific shriek of metal and, out of the corners of his eyes, Lex saw a shower of sparks.

"Lex," Lois moaned, tugging at him, but she was too late. The world spun out of control and, the next thing he remembered clearly was Lois' hand clinging his as they dangled out of the helicopter.

"What happened?" he managed to ask.

She just laughed breathlessly. Hysterically. "Oh, God, Lex, hold on." Lois' left hand tangled in the belts dangling from the helicopter. Her forearm strained as she fought to keep hold, feet kicking slightly, breath coming in harsh pants. With her other arm, she had a firm grip around Lex's wrist.

That's when Lex realized people were shouting above them as he dangled in midair off a fallen helicopter.

"I'm may have to drop you, Lex," Lois said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"To save myself." A frightening, out of control laugh escaped her, and tears slid from her eyes. "Oh, God, Lex. Oh, baby, I can't. I .... LEX!" Lois screamed suddenly. Her eyes were wide, face white, and she was reaching for him, trying to get him back, but Lex was beyond caring.

He was falling.

It wasn't quite as scary as he'd thought it would be. In fact, it was kind of fun. And a relief, knowing that it'd be over, soon. No more nightmares or torment or loneliness. It'd all fade away into blessed nothingness and ...

"I've got you."

Lex blinked. The world had stopped. "What?"

"You're safe now. I have you."

And then the world was going in reverse. As if he was going up.

He blinked again and turned his head. And then looked down.

Lex was flying. More than that, Lex was flying in a man's arms.

They flew past the helicopter and back up to the roof. Lois was already sitting there, looking bemused as people surrounded her. Her eyes were on Lex and his savior as they landed.

Lex turned in his savior's arms as he was set down. "Who are you?" he asked, gazing into the beautiful blue eyes that were set into an equally beautiful face.

He smiled. "A friend."

"Am I dead?"

"No." He helped Lex sit. "These men will take care of you." Then he lifted into the air again, picked the helicopter up and set it on the platform carefully, and then disappeared.

"Did you see that?" Lois asked, voice awed.

"I think so."

The world started going black around him. His lungs crushed like he was eight again and having an asthma attack and, suddenly, he felt the bullet wound.

"Lex? Lex!"

The world disappeared and he was flying again. Body light, he felt better than he had in years. He tore through the night sky, starlight on his skin, bathing and caressing him.

Lex rolled onto his back and threw his arms wide. "Yes!" he shouted as he zoomed. He laughed. Everything was perfect.

He was free.

"Breathe for me, baby. Please. Breathe."

Lex blinked. What was that?

"Breathe."

The stars disappeared. The night wind stopped whipping at his cheeks. Pain flooded his body and he opened his eyes.

Clark was above him, his useless glasses on the edge of his nose. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily, panic in those lovely eyes.

"Clark?" he said in confusion.

Clark disappeared. He was replaced by other men. They asked him questions and stuck something over his nose and mouth. Then the world spun, and he was still on his back, but higher now.

A gurney, his mind supplied.

"Clark?" he called, panicked.

Clark reappeared. "I'm here, Lex. We're going down to the ambulance."

"What ..." He stopped talking, pain flooding his body.

"You were shot. And you stopped breathing."

The stars gave way to a ceiling, and then an elevator. Clark leaned over and kissed his forehead. "You're going to be okay." He took Lex's hand again.

Lex threaded their fingers together as the darkness closed around him again. "Clark," he whispered, "I flew."

"He flew into my life as mysteriously as he flew out of it," Lex said, watching his words appear on the screen in front to him. Carefully, he adjusted the laptop on the tray and shifted; hospital beds were uncomfortable and really not the best place to work, but he had to get this down before the words disappeared. "Who was he, this mysterious savior?" Lex continued. "How did he know there was trouble at Lane Towers? Does he have any ulterior motive in the rescue, or some dealings with Lois Lane or Lane Enterprises? Or even, perhaps, the terrorists themselves? They claimed they wanted to make an example out of Lois Lane, as she is the enemy of the Free People, and they wanted to bring her to justice. Have they finally gotten smart and realized the best way to negotiate is to make your enemy your friend? Or did this man, this Superman, as Ms. Lane calls him, simply know that someone needed him and act out of pure altruism?

"My readers know that I am a cynical man. You also know that, at the time, I was in shock and weak from the loss of blood. So you will perhaps forgive me when I say I hope that this man is exactly what he appears to be: a true hero."

Lex saved his article and read it over. God. He sounded like a love sick child. This wasn't the hard hitting journalistic piece that his readers--that Perry--expected from him. This was ... a love letter.

He sighed and went to erase what he'd written when he heard someone in the hall. He glanced up and saw an enormous bouquet of lilies and tulips coming through the door.

"Delivery for Mr. Luthor," the flowers said in Clark's voice.

Lex smiled and pulled the headset down off his head. Voice activated technology was a blessing, but he didn't exactly want his entire conversation with Clark recorded on computer. He saved his article--love letter--and shut off the microphone. "Clark, with the amount of time you spend here, I'm surprised you've managed to get a byline in the Planet at all."

Clark's smiling eyes emerged from behind the flowers. "I'm a fast writer." He handed Lex the bouquet. "I know they're not as nice as your other arrangements, but I didn't want to come empty handed."

"You're going to go broke if you keep spending money on me. I'm fine. I've got my computer, a television, and all the morphine I need." He smiled and then gave himself another dose; his arm was aching fiercely. "How did you know I like lilies?"

"Because when you were asleep the other day, you kept talking about taking some to your mother." He licked his lips and took the bouquet back. "I hope you don't mind, but I took some out to her grave, too. Since, you know, you couldn't get out there yesterday."

Lex felt his ears turn warm and he glanced out the window. There were flower arrangements from fans, friends, and enemies on the ledge, but he was still able to gaze out at the buildings. "Thank you, Clark. You're a good friend," he said softly.

"I try." The bed dipped as Clark sat on it. He took Lex's uninjured hand in his. "How do you feel?"

"Better. A lot better than even yesterday." He looked back at Clark. Yesterday had sucked. He'd laid listlessly in bed all day, thinking of his mother and cursing himself for being unable to get out there. Clark had visited, and spent most of the time sitting with him quietly, wiping the tears Lex swore were drug-induced from his cheeks.

Lex shook himself and forced a smile. "Today is good. I got some work done."

Clark clucked his tongue and looked disapprovingly at the computer. "You need to rest."

"I need to finish the article. You already had to write about the hostage situation and my rescue. And my near death experience. Now it's my turn. I told you, no one ..."

"Else tells your stories, I know," Clark finished for him. He leaned forward and took the headset and laptop away. "But you still need to rest. You've worked, and now rest." Lex opened his mouth to protest, but Clark gently covered it with his hand. "I'm serious. Besides, the more you rest, the sooner you get out of here and back to work."

Lex wrinkled his nose. He pulled Clark's hand away from his mouth and asked, "Did Perry take the chemical waste story from us?"

"No, he didn't. He wants me to keep working on it until you're better. I've been doing some digging on my own, but I'm going to have to pull your contacts, if you have any."

"Of course. I'm only too happy to help." He sighed and leaned back. "I'm sorry about this. Some mentor, huh?"

"Some partner," Clark corrected. "And I have no complaints."

Lex smiled, eyes closed. "I'm going to have to ask you a few questions later, by the way. About the rescue. There's a lot that has to go into this article, and I need to make sure my head is clear enough to interview the man who saved my life."

Clark's fingers seemed to freeze in his. He cleared his throat. "You managed to track down the guy who saved you? I thought he flew off into the unknown."

"What? I .... Oh, you mean Superman."

Clark choked. "What?" He sound as if he were vainly trying not to laugh.

It was a ridiculous name. Unfortunately, Lex couldn't come up with anything better. "It's Lois' name for him," he said dismissively. He raised his head. "When I get an interview with him, I'll ask for a real name, don't worry. The name's only in my head because every time Lois has visited, the only thing out of her mouth is 'Superman' this and 'Superman' that." He smiled sheepishly. "I think it's a silly name and Lois has read way too much Nietchze."

"Yeah. God, I can't imagine anyone calling themselves Superman. Talk about ego. How did you find him?"

"I haven't. I made a few calls this morning, trying to see if anyone knows anything, but I'm not exactly all here." He tapped his head.

"Then how..."

"I was talking about you, Clark." He squeezed Clark's hand. "You saved my life. You brought me back from the dead. Yes, Superman may have saved me from plummeting to my doom, and I will find him and will write about him and will publicly thank him. But you're the one who brought me back from death itself. I died, Clark. I was gone, out of my body, flying through space, and you breathed for me and brought me back."

Clark ran his knuckles down Lex's face. "You weren't dead. You just stopped breathing."

Lex shook his head and caught Clark's hand on his face. "It doesn't matter. You saved me," he said intently, gazing at Clark.

God, he was so beautiful. Why did he hide it? Why the glasses and the ugly clothes and the shaggy, unkempt hair? Why did he hunch his shoulders and make himself fade into the background, when he could do this? Reduce Lex to a puddle and make his stomach twist and cause every nerve stand on end.

Shit, he had a crush on Clark. A fucking crush on a cub reporter, a kid. On his partner. How fucking predictable was that?

Apparently, he was going to break his rule about coworkers and sex, because Clark suddenly licked his lips and whispered, "Lex."

Without any permission from Lex, his eyes fluttered shut and he licked his lips too. He could feel Clark getting closer, feel the air compress, feel the electricity start to crack when ....

"Lex?"

He and Clark jerked away from each other. Lex felt as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Lois," he said breathlessly. "Hi."

Lois was standing in the door, gazing at him and Clark with a wicked smile on her face. "Sorry if I'm interrupting."

"Not at all," Clark mumbled, rising quickly from the bed. He crossed the room and pulled a chair to the foot.

"Uh-huh." She came into the room with the liquid glide she'd spent years perfecting. As usual, she was dressed to kill, black pants showing off her perfect curves, and red shirt making her pale skin seemed almost luminescent.

She crossed the room and kissed Lex gently on the lips. "How are you today?"

"Good. I feel really good today."

"Good. Are you going to sue, by any chance?"

"What would be the use? You're already paying my medical expenses aren't you?"

Lois smirked and set her large purse on the bed. "I suppose. Yes." She sat next to his head and slipped her arm around Lex's shoulders. "So. Have either of you found anything out about Superman?"

"No," Clark said. "I'm sorry."

"I haven't either." Lex sighed. "I want to, though. I mean, a man who can fly. And I'm not insane, because other people saw him. God," he continued, getting warmed up, "this is the biggest news story of the century. "'Superman ...'"

"'Friend or Foe?'" she finished for him.

Lex frowned. "What?"

Lois arched her eyebrow at his befuddlement and smiled. "My poor, sweet Lex, stuck in a hospital room with no access to the Daily Planet archives. Didn't Clark do any digging?"

"I don't think so, he's been working on other stories."

Clark's cheeks flushed and he shook his head. "Uh, no, I haven't. I was, uh, working on Lex's story. I didn't mention Superman too much."

"Well, there's your mistake. People care about Lex, of course, and about me too." She smiled at Clark and held her hand out to him. "I do appreciate that your mention of me was gracious. I appreciate objectivity, especially since I'm sure Lex must have fed you horror stories about me."

"You're welcome," Clark said with a smile. Well, it sort of looked like a smile. It also looked a little like he was baring his teeth, eyes on Lois' arm that was resting comfortably around Lex's shoulders.

"The thing is, Clark," Lois said in a soft but patronizing tone, "Lex and I are important, and you made sure to highlight our involvement nicely. However, the flying man is the truly important part of the story, and I'm not sure if you managed to convey that. I mean, not only did he fly, but he was hit by multiple bullets and it didn't stop him at all. And he twisted the terrorists weapons so they couldn't fire. He's strong, he can fly, and is apparently invulnerable. There's your story."

"Uh, right." Clark seemed annoyed, as was his right. He had, after all, mentioned all of that in the article. But the focus had been on the attack, not the rescue.

"It's my story, Clark," Lex reassured him. "It's okay if you didn't cover it. I'm the one who's going to write the article on him, interview him, and introduce him to the world."

Lois smiled. "I think you're already too late." She pulled a sheaf of papers from her purse and handed them to Lex.

They were newspapers articles from ten years ago. Each article detailed crimes committed by an unknown person with miraculous powers. He'd been shot several times, but had only left behind a bullet-ridden ski mask. No blood. No body. He moved faster than anyone could see. He'd been in several fights and never flinched, no matter how nasty the other side fought. He was reported to be invulnerable. And then, as mysteriously as he had arrived, he disappeared.

"You think Superman is the same person," Lex said, handing the articles to Clark.

"I do."

"Why?"

Clark took the articles and looked through them. There was something about his attitude that caught Lex's eye. He seemed ... sad. Resigned. His eyes scanned the pages as if he knew what was there.

"I don't know. Call it woman's intuition," Lois was saying as Lex watched Clark. "What are the odds there is more than one invulnerable person in Metropolis? I have no proof, just a feeling."

"Yeah, me too," Lex said softly. His eyes were still on Clark, who had finished reading the papers. He was looking everywhere except Lex, he noticed. "Sometimes, I really think you should have been a reporter, Lois."

She laughed. "Right. I like my job as the most powerful woman in the world, Lex. However, you could do me a favor." She sat on the bed next to him and put her arm back around his shoulder. "I want to meet him."

"Who?" he asked distractedly. His head was beginning to feel fuzzy.

Clark's eyes snapped up, as if he suddenly realized Lex was looking at him. He flushed, but met Lex's gaze.

"Very funny, my love. Superman. I want to meet him." She sighed. "I don't know who he is, I don't know where he came from or if we can trust him. I just know ..." She sighed again and laid her head back on the pillows. "I just know he's something special."

"Uh-huh." Oh, God, Lois in lust. It was almost funny. He hadn't seen her this love struck since they'd been fourteen and both desperately in love with Brad Pitt. "What do you expect me to do?"

She lifted her head. "Write an article on him. Mention that you want to interview him, and then, when you do, tell him that I want to meet him, too. And then, if he doesn't contact you for the interview, bring up this." She took the papers from Clark.

"Wait," Clark said, startled. "You're going to threaten him?"

"Not threaten him, Clark," Lois said. "Use a little persuasion. Sometimes you need to sully a name before you can sanctify it. And Lex won't as long as Superman cooperates. And then, after, he'd better stay interesting, or Lex--or someone--will be forced to bring this information to light."

Really, Lois would have made a fantastic reporter. She was smart, clever, and realistic. As was Lex, normally, but somehow, at this moment, the idea of trying to implicate Superman in dirty dealings and petty robbery made him sick.

Clark, it seemed, felt the same. His normally healthy flush had paled until he looked almost sickly. He eyed Lois as if she were some exotic and extremely poisonous type of snake.

"Lois," Lex said after a moment, "I'm really tired."

"Oh, of course you are. My poor baby. I can't believe you got hurt because of me." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "Don't paint me a whore in your article, please," she whispered against his mouth.

Lex's eyes slid shut and he shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. But if I find out those terrorists were there because of anything you or your company did, well, all's fair, my dear."

She laughed and kissed him again. "Of course. Now, I have to go. I brought you a book to help get through this." Lois produced a copy of Fire from Heaven. "I know how much you love Alexander the Great."

"Thank you." Lex placed the book on the table next to him, next to the bouquet Clark had brought.

"Think about what I said. And take care." She bent over, brushed their lips together again, and then left.

Clark turned to watch her go. "She's something, isn't she?"

"Yes," Lex agreed. "Definitely something. Clark?"

"Yes?" He rose from his chair and sat on the bed again. From the look in his eyes, he clearly was ready to pick up where they'd left off when Lois had interrupted. He took Lex's hand in his and ran his knuckles over his jaw.

Lex swallowed and tried to push away the slow arousal that was sliding through his body. He was in the hospital, drugged, and suddenly very tired. Plus, he was in pursuit of a story, and that always, always came first.

So he swallowed again, licked his lips and asked, "Do you know Superman?"

Clark froze.

"Because your reaction to Lois' news makes me think that you do." He squeezed Clark's hand. "You weren't surprised. You were ... accepting of it. Like you knew it was coming." He hesitated, and then said, "You know who did those crimes."

"Yes," Clark whispered.

"Is it the same man?"

"I believe so," he said, eyes closed.

Lex's heart leaped. "Will he be a danger to me? To the city?"

"No!" His eyes flew open again, color suffusing his cheeks. "No. I swear, he's of no danger to anyone. He .... He told me he wants to make amends for the crimes he committed in his past. He'll tell you the same, and then spend every day proving it."

"Then you'll get me my interview with him?" His heart was beating so fast that, for a moment, Lex wondered if Lois was the only one with a crush. And what it meant if he had a crush on both Clark Kent and this Superman.

Clark closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he released Lex's hand and pulled away. Rising from the bed, he smiled almost wistfully and said, "Yes. I'll get you an interview with him. As soon as you're out of the hospital."

"Thank you."

"Anything."

"Shit, shit, shit!" Lex swore as he reached to the top shelf of his curio cabinet. He was trying to get his damn Warrior Angel shrine down before Superman showed up. So much of his collection was breakable--the porcelain figures of Warrior Angel and Devilicus, the replica of Warrior Angel's mask, the five collector plates, the framed first edition of number 66, to name a few--and Lex only had one arm, and it wasn't even his dominate arm. He also didn't have much time until Superman was supposed to arrive, and there was tons left to do. Plus, he still had to dress, make sure the tape in his tape recorder was set, Scotch was poured, and he was over this stupid haze of pain medication so that he'd be sharp and on top of things. He planned to be merciless in his questioning. Not that was going to be rude or accusatory, since this was, of course, an article about a hero, but that didn't mean Lex was soft. There were answers to be had, and he wasn't going to rest until he had them.

The frame slipped between his fingers and fell to the floor. The glass shattered. "Shit!" he shouted. He bent over to pick it up. A shard of glass dug into his finger, drawing blood. "God damn it."

There was a knock on the front door. Startled, he bolted upright, frame clenched between fingers. Superman was early. Way too early. He was here, and Lex was only half dressed and his shrine was still up, and ...

"Lex?" Clark called through the door. "I'm coming in, okay?" The key Lex had given Clark on returning from the hospital rattled on Clark's key chain. A moment later, Clark stuck his head into the room. "I heard you swearing. Are you all right?"

Relief made Lex weak. He sank to his couch, limp. "I thought you were Superman," he admitted hoarsely.

Clark laughed and rolled his eyes as he closed the door. "What are you doing? You look like you're falling apart." He sat on the couch next to Lex and took the frame from him.

"I'm trying to hide my Warrior Angel collection," Lex replied, trying not to blush and failing miserably. "I can't have a real life superhero seeing my ... childhood hero."

"I doubt he'd care. You're bleeding." Clark took Lex's hand and pulled him from his seat. "You need to calm down, Lex It's just an interview."

"Just an interview? Clark, this is an interview with a man who can fly," Lex said as he followed Clark to the bathroom. "I've dreamed my whole life of meeting someone like him. A superhero who can fly in and rescue you from falling, and stop bullets and tie up villains." He laughed breathlessly and sat on the toilet. "I know it sounds stupid, but it's like almost like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream. I know he's not Warrior Angel, but ... he's real."

Clark pulled some alcohol from the cabinet, along with a cotton ball. "Warrior Angel. I've heard of him, but refresh my memory."

"He's an alien who protects the innocent. And he's bald." He met Clark's eyes sheepishly as Clark cleaned the cut on his finger. "It was a huge deal when I was nine. I was the only bald kid I knew. My mother found the comic for me, and I've been hooked ever since. I just don't want to look stupid. I feel stupid enough right now as it is."

"You, Lex, could never be stupid." Clark threw the cotton away, put a bandage on the cut, and kissed it lightly. "There. All better." He took both Lex's hands in his. "He's just one person, Lex. Yes, he can fly and survive bullets, but don't put him on a pedestal. I know for a fact that's the last place he wants to be. Besides. You're Lex Luthor, and I know that he's pretty excited to meet you, too."

"Really?"

Clark ran his knuckles down Lex's face. "Who wouldn't be?"

A warm wave crashed over Lex, and everything seemed to fade away. His stomach stopped twisting, his heart slowed to a normal beat, and he could feel himself relax.

Lex sighed and leaned into Clark. "How do you do it?" he whispered, resting his forehead against Clark's shoulder.

Clark's arms came around Lex and held him close. "How do I do what?" Warm breath caressed the shell of his ear, making Lex shudder.

"Make everything okay. Make me feel safe."

The only answer was more petting and soothing. Clark rubbed his back in strong circles, urging the muscles that had bunched and tensed in Lex's back to unknot and relax. He began to feel warm and comfortable, the excitement of Superman fading away, replaced by Clark. Clark's warmth and strength and affection. Perfection hidden in an ugly package, and Lex was beginning to think of it as his to unwrap.

"Come on," Clark sighed, pulling away from a very reluctant Lex. "Let's get you dressed. It wouldn't do to have you meet Superman half naked." He rose and pulled away.

Lex followed, a sense of loss echoing through his body. But he pushed past it, reminding himself that he wasn't going to fall in love with Clark, and turned his mind back to the issue at hand. Superman. "What's he like?" Lex asked as they stood by his closet.

Clark was rummaging inside, pushing various shirts aside as if on a quest. "I don't know how to describe him. I mean, I don't want to have any preconceived notions when you meet him. Well," he added with a grin, "any more than you already have." He finally stopped and smiled. "Here, wear this one. You look great in it," he said, handing Lex a lavender sweater.

"Help me? I'm not doing all that great with pullovers, you know."

"Do you want a button-up instead?"

"No. I like that one." And he liked that Clark liked it on him.

Clark gently helped Lex pull the sweater over his head. Then he slipped his hands inside, brushing gently over Lex's bare skin.

Lex shivered and bit his lip, trying to control his reaction. Clark's hands were so warm and smooth; they felt delicious on his skin.

"Deep breath," Clark whispered as he took Lex's arm.

He winced and bit back a moan of pain, but it was over in a moment as Clark gently guided Lex's arm inside the sleeve.

"All done."

Lex exhaled hard. The pain made his head spin, so he leaned against Clark. Eyes squeezed shut, he distracted himself by asking, "Is he nice?"

"Yes, Lex. He's nice."

"Did he say anything about me to you?"

Clark laughed. "Are we in fifth grade?"

"No, I mean ... When you told him about the interview. Did he say anything?" Lex cleared his throat and tried to appear as if he didn't care, even though his heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Well," Clark said, studying him carefully, "he said that he was delighted to be interviewed by a journalist of your stature."

Relief washed over Lex and he straightened his shirt. "Okay. Let me just go put a tape in my recorder, and I'll be ready. Are you going to stay?"

"Me? No, I can't. I'm meeting a contact. But I'll come back afterwards, just to see how it went, okay?"

"Yes, please." Lex put his hand on Clark's forearm squeezed it. "Thank you."

"Of course." Clark smiled, adjusted his glasses, and then left.

Lex checked the tape recorder then poured a glass of Scotch. Unfortunately, because of the pain medication, he couldn't drink it, but it was good Scotch and maybe Superman would want some.

He was a lot calmer than he'd been before Clark came, but thrills of anticipation ran through him. He lit a cigarette and paced his apartment, going over questions he'd ask Superman when he got here.

"Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Where did you grow up? What's your favorite book? How did you come by these remarkable abilities?" He sighed. "Where did you get that body?"

"I was born with it."

"Fuck!" Lex swore as he whirled. He tripped over the coffee table and started to fall.

And then, suddenly, he was in a strong pair of arms. Deep blue eyes set in a heart stopping face twinkled down at him in amusement. "We need to stop meeting like this," a smooth baritone voice said, washing over Lex.

He shivered. "You startled me. Where did you come from?"

"Krypton."

Lex looked at him blankly.

"Oh, you meant just now." He winked. "I flew onto the balcony. I didn't mean to startle you."

It occurred to Lex that he was still in Superman's arms, and that wasn't exactly the strongest position to be in. He wasn't some swoony teenage girl, after all. He was Lex Luthor, ace investigative reporter. And, more than that, he was a Luthor and that still meant something to him, even if the rest of the world associated the name with weakness.

He pushed at Superman and broke free. "Uh, Krypton? Oh, wait." He went to the tape recorder and picked it up. "I hope you don't mind. I'm having trouble writing. I'm left handed and that's the arm I was shot in."

Superman nodded. "Go right ahead."

Lex turned the tape recorder on and faced Superman.

Christ. He was gorgeous. Over six feet, tanned skin, bright blue eyes that were focused on him. His hair was pitch black and combed straight back. And his body. Pure muscle wrapped in a red and blue spandex unitard. Normally, something like that would look ridiculous, but somehow, Superman pulled it off. It was his stance, his confidence, the way he held his head. It was the look in his eye that made Lex think that maybe Superman wasn't as serious as he looked, and the small smile on his face as he gazed at Lex openly in admiration, as if he liked what he saw.

Lex cleared his throat and straightened tugged at his shirt.

It was really hard not to geek out. Superman looked exactly like a comic book character.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "You're, um, you, uh, rescued me."

"I did. I heard the screams and gunfire and knew there were people in need of help," Superman explained.

"Where were you?"

"Around." He smiled at Lex's frown. "I was patrolling. Flying through the city."

"Do you do that often?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Lex blurted out before he thought.

Superman seemed to expect it though. His eyes grew serious, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "My father taught me that with power comes responsibility. I have many gifts that give me advantages over humans. While I can't interfere in human matters--politics and technology, for example--I can protect the weak from those who would take advantage of them."

"I'm not weak."

"No." He smiled and shook his head. "You, Lex Luthor, are not weak. But you were powerless against the situation you were thrust into. As was Ms. Lane. So I helped you."

Lex nodded and ran his hand down his chest to smooth the wrinkles in his shirt. "Do you do things like this often?"

"Almost every night. Mostly, I stop robberies, or rapes, or children from being hurt. I can't stop everything, but I do what I can."

"Just at night?"

Superman hesitated, as if confused by the question. "Well," he replied after a moment, "mostly at night. I stop the occasional crime during the day."

Crime ran round the clock. People were hurt every minute of the day. Why was it that Superman just worked at night? Was he a vampire? But, no, he looked too alive. Besides, Lex didn't believe in vampires.

Secret identity, then. Which led Lex to a difficult choice. As a reporter--hell, as a man--he wanted to uncover the secret identity. He wanted to know who Superman was, where he lived, what he did for a living. Was he famous, infamous, rich, poor, a teacher, a scholar, a boxer, a scientist? How did he hide who he was, keep people from knowing? Or did he hide away all day, sleeping, studying the world to find who he'd save?

"Only Metropolis?" Lex asked after a moment.

"No. Mostly, but I go wherever there is need of aid. I've rescued people from monsoons and earthquakes, floods and tornados. I can go anywhere I need to in the world in a matter of minutes."

"By flying?"

"Yes."

"How did you learn to fly?"

He smiled ruefully. "Through trial and error. I had to throw myself off a lot of cliffs before I finally figured it out. And it was hard. When I was younger, I had a fear of heights."

"Really?" That was interesting. Lex had never thought of a superhero having fears like ordinary people. He wondered if Warrior Angel was afraid of anything. "How did you know you could fly?"

"Something inside me told me, I guess. I'd woken up from sleep a few times floating, and I could run faster than the wind. Flight seemed like the next logical step."

"How did you come by these powers?"

He hesitated, looking suddenly unsure. It was startling, like a crack across a mirror, a sudden glimpse at the being inside the muscles and spandex. This was a man who was unused to revealing much about himself.

"I'm not human," Superman finally said slowly. For a moment, he broke eye contact, which he had maintained fairly steadily up until then.

Lex felt suddenly bereft without Superman's eyes on his. And then the full impact of what he'd said hit Lex and he realized he needed to sit down.

"Not human," Lex repeated. Legs shaky, he moved and sat on the back of his couch. "Not human. Alien?"

A small smile graced Superman's full lips. "Yes. I'm an alien. Born on another planet."

"Called Krypton."

"Yes."

"You're from another planet which is called Krypton."

Superman frowned, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"

He swallowed. His mouth felt like cotton. "I could use a drink."

He disappeared with a whooshing sound, reappearing a moment later with a glass of orange juice. "Here."

Lex took it gratefully and gulped it down. Their fingertips brushed when he took the glass, causing his body to explode in tiny pinpricks of excitement. But he tried to ignore it, instead concentrating on the juice. "So," he finally asked, "where is Krypton?"

Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask. Superman's face darkened slightly, and a frown tugged at his mouth. "It is no longer. The planet was destroyed years ago."

"Is that why you came here?"

"It is why I was sent, yes. By my parents, when I was an infant." His smile was ghostlike. "As far as I know, I am the only survivor."

"How was the planet destroyed?"

He shrugged. "There was a chain reaction in the planet's core that caused it to explode. My father knew it was coming, but could not persuade his colleagues of the inevitable event. He chose to save me and send me to Earth."

"Why Earth?"

"Because I look like a human and my father knew I would draw incredible strength from the sun. It is from the light of the yellow sun I draw my powers."

Superman was solar powered. Cool.

Lex forced himself not to laugh at his stupid joke, instead concentrating on the interview. "Why the sun?"

"I'm not sure. But your sun is not like the sun that orbited my planet, and somehow my people draw strength from it."

He nodded. "Okay, so you can fly and run faster than the wind. You also appear to be invulnerable. What else?"

Superman smiled and crossed his arms comfortably over his chest. "I can freeze things with my breath."

"Really?"

His smile grew and he looked at the glass in Lex's hand. Taking a deep breath, he pursed those fantastic lips and blew a stream of air.

Ice appeared on the glass, crystallizing over the surface until it was too cold for Lex to hold. He set it on the coffee table and rubbed his hand against his pants. "Amazing. What else?"

Instead of answering, Superman looked past Lex. He turned to see what Superman was looking at. His breath caught as a fire lit in the fireplace.

"How?" he breathed.

"Heat vision."

Lex whipped around. "You can light fires with your eyes?" he practically squeaked, knowing full well he sounded like a rabid fanboy.

Superman seemed delighted, however. He was smiling at Lex's excitement and gazing at him almost fondly. The look in his eyes made Lex feel shivery inside, and vainly he wished for a modicum of dignity back.

But, dude, this was so cool.

"I can also see through things."

"Like an x-ray?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes it's like a picture, depending on my needs."

"There's something in my pocket. What is it?"

The blue eyes narrowed as Superman concentrated. "A silver cigarette case with the initials LL on it."

Lex exhaled hard. "Oh, man, you are so cool. Have you always been like this?"

"No. My powers emerged gradually, allowing me to adjust to each one. Most of them developed when I was a teenager."

"During puberty." Lex smiled at him. "That must have been difficult."

Superman shrugged. "No more than puberty is for any other adolescent. We are never given more than we can handle."

"Another lesson from your father?"

He nodded.

Lex snorted. "If that were true, we wouldn't need you."

Their eyes met and, for a moment, Lex felt something go through him. Warmth, comfort, arousal and ... familiarity. Again, the mirror seemed to crack just a little, allowing Lex to see beneath what Superman wanted him to. There was acceptance there, and attraction. But more, finally, more of the person, which had been missing. Lex was so dazzled by the superhero, it was hard to see underneath. Maybe he was doing it on purpose; if Superman did have a secret identity, Lex didn't want to expose him. That would just be rude; even aliens had a right to privacy, as long as they didn't try to take over the world or anything.

But Lex wanted to know. He wanted to know everything, so he forced himself to concentrate and really look at the man before him.

There wasn't much. Superman was so perfect, so polished. He was a statue, a show, a monument meant for display. He didn't want people in, that much was obvious.

But, Lex was good at this and, the longer he looked the more he saw. Like the scuff on the tip of Superman's left boot. And the red/brown smudge on the underside of his index finger. And the one black curl that had escaped the rest of the shining mass to curl behind his ear. And the way his right eye had a hint of green, whereas the left was entirely blue. And the way his teeth weren't quite even. They reminded Lex of someone else, but he wasn't sure who.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"I am Kal-El, son of Jor-El. But, if you wish, you may promote me as Superman." He smiled faintly. "Clark Kent informs me that the name is more romantic and appealing to a mass audience."

"I'd hate to rename you." Especially with a fucking stupid name like Superman.

"Is it not a custom of this planet to give nicknames, Alexander?"

"Uh," Lex stuttered, flushing. "Okay, then. Tell me about your costume."

"The colors symbolize the House of El. This," he touched the S, "is my family crest."

"Do you have a message for the people of earth?"

Superman grew thoughtful. He stroked his chin before saying, "I am here to help, not rule, guide, not preach, and I will only stay as long as I am welcome. The human race is the most remarkable in the universe, and I would like to be a part of its destiny."

Lex smiled and turned off the tape recorder. "Tell me. Do you write speeches in your spare time?"

He simply smiled back and approached Lex. "Is that all?"

"I guess. I'm not sure what else to ask you. I have a million questions, but they all seem to be stuck inside. And I don't .... I want to know about your childhood. Who raised you? Where did you land? Are you always an alien, or do you ever pretend to be human? Did you commit those crimes ten years ago?"

"Yes," Superman answered simply. "Turn on your tape recorder and ask the last question again."

Lex's heart started pounded. "Kal-El, some of the things you did don't have a statue of limitations. You committed grand theft. Armed robbery. And now you're a vigilante."

"But I am also an alien."

"That doesn't mean you're not bound by our laws."

"Your laws are made for humans. I'm not one. Even if they change the laws to include me, I can't be arrested for the things I did then. And, if they try, I will deal with it through the legal system."

Lex shook his head. "I don't want to ask."

Superman stepped forward and put his hand on Lex's shoulder. "And I don't want to lie to the people of the world. I don't want to appear to be hiding mistakes I've made in the past. I must lead by example, Lex, if I am to make a difference in this world."

He was caught by the beautiful eyes that gazed earnestly down into his. They pleaded and begged and commanded gently until Lex felt lost and confused. He didn't want to do this. Superman was good, and Lex believed that as strongly as he believed that Clark Kent was so much more than he appeared to be. Lex didn't believe in goodness anymore than he believed in beautiful farmboys, but they both inspired the same feelings in him.

He swallowed hard and turned the tape recorder back on. "Ten years ago, a series of mysterious crimes were committed in Smallville. Reports say they were committed by a man who escaped being shot several times, who moved too fast to be seen, and had the strength of many men. These traits also describe you. Do you have any comment on the similarities? Did you commit these crimes?"

"I did," Superman said evenly, still staring down into Lex's eyes. "Ten years ago I came to Metropolis in pain and anguish. I was angry and young and in grief. I made many bad choices and hurt people. I am not here to try to erase the sins of my past. I am here, now, because I believe in the human capacity for greatness. I also believe that is the responsibility of every sentient being on earth to do what they can to help their brothers and sisters. I may not be human, but I live on this planet and will do anything I can to help its inhabitants.

"Thank you." It came out as a whisper. Lex turned off the tape recorder and simply stood there, gazing up at Superman.

He was so fucked.

"Is that all?" Superman asked.

Lex nodded. "Thank you for the interview, Kal-El."

"Kal. El is like my last name. And you're very welcome." He stepped back, still holding Lex's hand. "Are you all right?"

"I'm tired, I guess. And scared. I don't want any negative repercussions because of that."

Superman's smile was faint. "You must have faith, Lex. I have no doubt that there will be much controversy at first, but eventually people will see that I mean what I say." He shrugged. "I mean, I come in peace."

Lex laughed. "And he knows pop culture."

"I live in the world, Lex."

"Do you ever get coffee?" Lex asked, heart pounding.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. You know. Like go out?"

"Like on a date?"

Lex nodded.

A frown creased his forehead, but, suddenly, Superman's arms were around him.

"What the ..."

"I've got a better idea. Come on."

"Kal, what .... Oh my God. Shit!" he swore. He squeezed his eyes shut as they lifted off the floor.

Superman laughed and adjusted his grip on Lex. "It's okay," he said softly. "I've got you."

Lex wrapped his arms around Superman's neck and buried his face in his neck. "I'm afraid of heights," he whispered.

"Trust me, Lex. I'm not going to let you fall." His arms tightened around Lex.

"I trust you," Lex lied, feeling lightheaded. "I just don't trust gravity."

"Lex," he whispered softly into Lex's hear. "I'm faster than a bullet. I'm faster than an airplane, and I am certainly faster than gravity. Even if you were to fall, which you won't, I could still catch you. Trust me."

It took a moment. Lex's body wasn't exactly obeying his brain, but, finally he was able to pry his head from Superman's neck and open his eyes.

Superman smiled at him gently. "There. It's not so bad, is it?"

Wordless, he shook his head. The stars were gleaming around Superman's head like a crown and, in the darkness, he seemed to glow. His eyes were deep and luminous and they never moved from Lex's.

Everything was perfect.

"Do you do this often?" Lex asked. His voice trembled only a little. "Fly people around?"

"Only when I rescue them, and even then, not that often. I don't have much of a social life. Any social life, actually."

"It must be lonely." But Lex knew it wasn't. Of course Superman couldn't have a social life. He was an enigma, a symbol, an ideal. He was there to rescue people and make the world feel safe.

Superman wasn't real.

Superman frowned. "You look so sad. Have I done something wrong?"

"No. Not at all." Lex managed to pry his hand away from Superman's neck so he could touch his cheek gently. It was warm, despite the cold air they were flying through. So warm, like a furnace. He wondered what Superman's normal body temperature was. "You're beautiful," he said.

"So are you." It sounded like relief when he said it.

Lex smiled at the words. "I don't know that anyone's ever said that to me and meant it."

"I never lie."

"Yeah. Somehow I knew that."

The air grew heavy between them as they gazed into each other's eyes. Lex was peripherally aware that the scenery had changed, and they were out of the city. He could vaguely see fields of corn and plants below, horses in fields, sheep, and cows. He wondered if Superman was paying attention to where he was flying, or if he were simply flying on instinct, with not thought or choice. If so, where he took Lex was probably more revealing than anything he'd said so far, and Lex wanted to see.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I might as well get the full experience, huh?" He half turned in Superman's arms. "Let me look."

Superman carefully maneuvered Lex so his back was pressed against Superman's front. One strong arm cradled Lex against him, and their feet tangled at the ankles. Superman carefully held Lex's injured arm against his chest, hand over Lex's. Lex laced their fingers together and counted slowly, trying to ease the terror.

They were so high, flying over fields and streams. Still in Kansas, but leaving now, he thought, as the scenery changed. They flew over the country, skirting cities, finding empty fields and prairies instead. Then, gradually, even those gave way to deserts canyons, each more beautiful than the last. After they'd been flying for almost an hour or so--Lex had no real concept of time--it started raining. Superman took them above the clouds, and the sheer beauty made Lex want to cry. Flying was freedom, soaring through the night sky illuminated by stars. He could feel the light on his skin as surely as he felt the heat from Superman's body on his back.

Lips brushed over his neck, nuzzling him tentatively. Lex sighed and closed his eyes, drifting in a dreamy haze. The lips grew bolder, tongue inching out to taste the skin, and Lex shuddered. Then, salty sea air filled his nose and he opened his eyes. Dolphins danced below them, squeaking and frolicking.

"When you get used to this," Superman whispered into his ear, "I'll teach you do dance in the air like they do in the ocean."

"I can't fly."

"With me you can." He brought his other arm around Lex and laced their fingers together as well, until Lex was surrounded by warmth and light and love.

Tears pressed behind his eyes, making his throat ache fiercely. It was like finding everything he ever wanted in his entire life, only to realize he couldn't actually have it. Superman was so achingly beautiful, so wonderfully solid and alive. And yet, there was something untouchable about him. Even now, Lex knew that he was being held by a mirror, by a being so perfect that it wasn't the whole. Superman could never let him inside, and it terrified Lex to realize that, there was a part of him that wanted it like that.

The wind whipped over them faster, and Superman turned home. The flight back wasn't nearly as long as the flight out had been, and, soon, Lex began to recognize things, buildings and places. They flew past the Daily Planet, Lane Towers, and the hospital. Then, at long last, they landed on Lex's balcony.

"Thank you," Lex said softly, turning to face Superman once more.

"It was my pleasure." Superman ran his knuckles down Lex's face in a gesture that was achingly familiar.

Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he wasn't sure what it was. The thought was elusive and slipped away before he could really grasp it.

"Lois Lane wants to meet you," he finally said, pushing the confusion away. "She wants to thank you for saving her."

Superman nodded, something like a sigh moving his chest. "Very well. Tell her that I will come to her tomorrow night at eight."

"I will. Will I ... see you again?"

He hesitated.

"Not on a date," Lex assured him with a slight smile. "Just ... again."

Superman relaxed and smiled. "Yes, Lex. You'll see me again." His lips pressed briefly against Lex's. "Good-bye." He rose into the night and disappeared.

Lex sighed and turned back into his apartment. He needed a drink. He needed to sleep. He needed to cry and curl up in his bed and pretend that everything was perfect because a superhero had just kissed him.

Heedless of the medication, he drank the Scotch that he'd poured for Superman and never offered.

There was a soft rap at the door. "Lex?"

"Come in, Clark.

Clark let himself in. His eyes were wide, and he looked around the room as if he wasn't sure what to find. "Is he still here?"

Lex snorted. "Yeah, he's in the bathroom. No," he said when Clark's eyebrows raised. "He's gone. You just missed him."

"Oh." He moved to sit on the couch. "How did it go?"

"Fine. Good. The interview went really well. He's interesting." Lex crossed the room and sat next to Clark. "How do you know him?"

"Same way as you. He got me out of a tight situation once. We became friends."

"Really. I got the feeling that he wasn't the type of man to have friends. He's very ..." Lex sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. "You probably think I'm silly, don't you."

"Why?"

"Because I've been acting like a teenage girl with a crush."

"I don't think you're silly. I'm jealous, but I understand. He's ... romantic. A hero. He saved your life."

Lex took Clark's hand. "So did you." Idly, he ran his thumb over the palm of Clark's hand, studying it through disinterested eyes. "But, I guess, there's a part of me that is drawn to the idea of something uncomplicated. He's a mysterious figure, an enigma. Someone who will come in and out of my life at with no binding ties, and I .... I'm scared of permanency."

"Why?"

"Because I've never had it in my life. Everyone's either left me or died, and I can't deal with the idea of someone who won't."

Clark lifted Lex's hand to his mouth and kissed it, eyes falling shut. "If I promise to leave, can I keep you?"

He laughed breathlessly. "You could never keep that promise, Clark." He swallowed, inexplicably near tears. It had to be the medication. "If I let you, you'd stay forever."

"I'm staying forever anyway, Lex."

"No. I'll make you leave. You'll see."

Clark shook his head and kissed the inside of Lex's wrist. "Never."

Lex turned his article in the next day, having spent the better part of the night writing it. Clark had stayed, lending an extra pair of eyes to what Lex felt was one of the most important articles ever written. Alien life existed. They were real, and they were on the planet. And, what's more, aliens were fucking hot.

He tried to be as objective as he could, but it was difficult. Not only was he extremely attracted to Superman, but the inner fanboy was thrilled at the whole idea. Objectivity was hard fought for, but the public deserved the truth, and they deserved to make their own judgments, so he did his best.

He wrote about Superman's powers and abilities. He explained Superman's past, how he got here, and how his powers developed. He put in Superman's message to humanity. And, despite his extreme trepidation, Lex included Superman's confession of crimes past.

He didn't include his real name, and had no good reason not to except that Kal had given him permission to promote him as Superman, so Kal became something private and special to Lex. And he didn't mention Superman took him flying.

Clark read and proofed the article as soon as it came out of the printer. When he was done, he looked at Lex and smiled. "It's wonderful."

Lex had definitely not blushed or swelled with pleasure. Clark's pride in him didn't affect Lex's pride in himself. Really, it didn't. And the sun didn't rise in the east, either.

Lex gave the article to Perry personally. Like any important article Lex had ever written, Perry had sat him down, poured them both a drink, and sat down to read the article. Lex waited nervously, sipping at his drink and trying not to fidget in his chair. And, since he was being a good boy, he didn't even smoke.

At long last, and after apparently two reads, Perry sighed and set the article down.

"Well?" Lex asked.

"You know it's brilliant." Then he smiled. "It really is. Congratulations, you're breaking the story of the year." Perry leaned across the desk, smile melting away. "And now, I want you to ask yourself, is this what you really want?"

He blinked, thrown. Perry had never asked him that question before. Well, once. When he'd written the story on his father's suicide. It'd been brutal and full of accusations. Nothing had been left out, not the scene of the crime, the stench of the blood, or the look of the corpse lying on the floor, pale and drained.

Lex hadn't even left his reaction out. He'd laid himself bare to the public, eviscerating himself until there was nothing left. When he'd given the article to Perry, Perry had read it, looked at him and asked, "Is this what you really want?"

At the time, Lex hadn't slept for over a day. He'd drank and smoked nonstop, living off whiskey and cigarettes. The heat in his apartment had been out, so he'd written in his car, heater running, fingers flying over his keyboard as he gutted himself.

"Yes," he'd answered hoarsely. "It's what I want."

But that had been the most painful article he'd ever written. This was so different.

"Why not?" he finally asked.

Perry leaned forward. "Do you know what they'll do to you? You will be ordered to see a doctor, where they will pick over you inch by inch, trying to see if the alien contaminated you. Until Superman shows up again, you will be questioned mercilessly by doctors and therapists, trying to see if that brilliant mind of yours has finally cracked. You will be forced to go to Washington to try and convince the government that this alien is no threat to any of us. You will be interviewed by every news agency in the world and, once again, you life will come under the microscope. Is this what you want?"

Lex swallowed and leaned forward as well. "Superman is the greatest thing to happen to this world perhaps ever. The world deserves to know that we finally have a hero, someone to look up to. And if I'm not the one to break the story, then someone else will."

"Someone less in love with him."

"I'm not in love with Superman." He pulled away.

Perry smirked and sipped his drink. "Of course not." He looked down at the liquid in his glass, and he sloshed it around the glass. "It's brilliant, Lex. I just hope we can weather the fallout."

"We will. I will." Lex stood and lifted his drink. "It's going to be fine, Perry. Don't worry. Thanks for the drink." He bolted back the last and set his glass on his desk before he left.

Lex went back to his computer and sat down. Clark was sitting in the desk across from his, reading files. He looked up when Lex sat down.

"Well?"

"He liked it. But I think he's scared of the impact."

Clark shook his head. "Perry White isn't scared of anything, especially not news. He knows how important this story is, and wouldn't ever hold it back."

Lex sighed and rubbed his chin. "I know," he answered after a moment. "But I get the feeling he wishes it didn't have to be written, you know?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I've been doing some research, and over the past six months, there have been at least forty reports of people being rescued or helped by a mysterious man wearing red and blue. The Inquisitor has published a few articles speculating on who this man is--vigilante, criminal, that sort of thing--but they've never had any leads." He pulled his Superman file out of his drawer and passed it to Clark. "These are the articles the Planet published. All the rescues took place at night, the criminals never really saw their attacker, and the people who were helped could never give a good description. The common theme was he moved faster, was stronger, and was more powerful than any man alive." He frowned. "About a month ago, someone swore they saw this guy fly, but, again, he didn't exactly stay for an interview."

"You think it's Superman?" Clark asked, flipping through the clippings.

"Oh, I know it's him. I just wonder why now?" He met Clark's eyes. "What I don't know is why he's decided to come forward and tell us who he is now."

"Maybe he's tired of hiding in the shadows. Maybe it feels too much like he's doing something wrong that way, and he thinks it's time to let people know that he's out there."

"Maybe." Lex rubbed his forehead and rose. "I need some air."

Clark followed him outside the building and walked silently by his side. They went to the park and found the space above the pond where they'd talked the first day they'd met.

Eyes on the pond below, Lex asked, "How do you know Perry White?"

"Uh .... He came to Smallville when I was in high school, looking for a story. He worked for some trash TV show or something. X-Files or Styles or something, I can't remember what it was called. We ran into each other, and I ended up helping him out of a few sticky situations." He glanced at Lex and smiled. "He didn't exactly ingratiate himself with the people in town. Anyway, I helped him, he read a few of my articles for the school newspaper and said I had potential. We kept in contact, and when I needed a job, he hired me."

"Ah. I first met Perry when I was sixteen. He sat down and started talking to me. I thought he was just interested in me, and started answering his questions before I caught on that he was interviewing me. I was so pissed off." Lex rubbed his eyes. "Sometimes, I think meeting Perry was the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for him."

Clark sighed and put his hand on Lex's back. "I wish I could say you'd have landed on your feet. I have faith in you, Lex, but I'm so afraid you'd be dead."

He laughed and leaned into Clark's a little. He was so warm and comfortable, Lex was beginning to forget what life was like without him. "Clark?" Lex asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Did you ask Perry to partner us because you had a crush on me?"

"Yes," Clark admitted after a moment's hesitation. "I mean, I do think you're an amazing writer, and I do admire your work and think you're everything that I've ever said you were. But I've had a crush on you since I first read your articles, and I knew that, together, we could be something great."

He laughed and looked up at Clark. "You frighten me. I mean, I agree with you that, as journalists, partnered together, we can be great. Help people. Expose the truth to the world. But when you say it, you mean so much more, and that terrifies me."

Clark smiled sadly ran his knuckles down Lex's cheek. "Yeah, Lex, I know. And I'm not sure yet what to do about that."

"Well," Lex replied, "when you figure it out, let me know."

"Trust me, Lex. When I do, you'll be the first to know."

Lex's story dominated the front page of the paper the next day. The headline screamed about alien life and Superman, complete with a picture of Superman, taken the day before as he'd stopped a car from crashing into a fuel truck. The article caused a huge sensation, just as Perry predicted, and suddenly Lex swept into the maelstrom.

At first it was fine. He submitted to countless medical exams without complaint, was poked and prodded and eventually pronounced perfectly healthy. Then the psychiatrists pounced, although since Superman was suddenly sighted everywhere, Lex's sanity wasn't quite the question Perry had feared it to be.

And Superman really was everywhere. He beat Lex to Washington by a few hours and spoke with the president and Congress. As Lex was ushered into the Oval Office, he caught sight of Superman on the lawn. He was playing with the First Dog and making the First Children scream and laugh like lunatics. By the time Lex got out of his interview--in which the President grilled him, just to make sure that the superbeing wasn't lying--Superman was gone.

Reporters camped out in Lex's hall. At first, he gracefully submitted to interviews and questions, since Superman wasn't really his story. Superman belonged to the world, and Lex understood that. But, soon, there were too many knocks on his door and people following him. It was overwhelming, he was drowning. Finally, he fled, hiding at Perry's or in his car until he felt homeless and aimless.

City Hall badgered Lex constantly, wanting to know more about the crimes Superman had committed. Maggie Sawyer, a detective for Metropolis PD, went on television, demanding to know how he could trust this alien. After all, she'd shot him with her own gun years before.

Superman swooped in just after Lex left , gave a press conference, and then flew away before anyone could decide if they could legally arrest him.

Scientists of all descriptions made a mass pilgrimage to Metropolis. Both Lex and Lois were questioned and questioned again until Lois lost her voice and stopped giving interviews to anyone. Of course, then all the attention turned back to Lex, and he began to feel stretched. Thin. He was, to quote a book his mother had read to him as a child, a bit like butter scraped over too much bread. He was eating too little, smoking too much, and relying on coffee to keep him moving. He was cracking slowly and close to coming completely undone.

For all that Lex was stretched, though, he could only imagine that Superman felt a thousand times worse. While Lex was being pulled every which way, Superman seemed to be working double time. He only granted two interviews: one with the President and the news conference. He declined anything else, unless a news crew happened to be near whenever he performed some great feat of heroism. Then he answered a few questions, assured everyone he was only there to help, and flew off. His face appeared on tee shirts and buttons that were sold on street corners. Buttons were made, and you were either for or against him. People protested against him in front of city hall, at the Capitol building, and even in DC. Supporters of Superman also turned out in droves

Superman stopped fires that were raging out of control, detained criminals long enough for the police to show up, grabbed a kid who was about to be hit by a car, stopped a tree from falling, saved a man at a construction site. The list went on.

So, even as his motives were questioned, even as the political engines of the world debated whether to call Superman friend or foe, Superman was engraining himself as a hero in the minds of the people of the world.

And, while Lex was glad Superman was becoming accepted, he just wished there was something left over for himself.

"Have you seen him since your big interview?" Lois asked over lunch about a month after Superman had first entered the public eye.

"No," Lex answered. "Well, I've seen him in passing, and I think I think he's come by my apartment a few times when I've been asleep, but otherwise, no."

Lois smiled. "I'm not surprised. He is everywhere these days. He's overextending himself, if you ask me."

Lex snorted. He was overextended himself. Between working on the chemical waste story, going to physical therapy, and being interviewed and questioned by every person in the fucking world, there was nothing for himself. He hadn't even had time to have an uncomfortably hyperaware dinner with Clark in weeks. Clark was always busy, and although they were together at work, it just wasn't the same.

He hadn't realized how much he'd come to depend on the kid until the kid stopped being so dependable.

Lois sighed. "It's a shame. He's going to burn out at this pace. He should have taken me up on my offer."

"What offer?" Lex asked, frowning. He hadn't heard anything about this.

"A job at Lane Enterprises. I mean, I could use a man who can fly and see through walls. In an age where corporate espionage is the modus operandi, I need an edge." She lifted her wine glass. "Lane Enterprises is the producer of the most sophisticated spy technology in the world, but Superman .... And it's not just the man. Just think of the things we could learn by studying his abilities."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "You want to turn him into a lab rat?"

"Don't be silly, my love. I wouldn't hurt him. Just ask him to submit to a few tests so we can find out how his abilities work. So we can copy them." She tisked and shook her head. "Really, Lex, where is your faith in me?"

"Must have lost it when you had my father killed."

"Oh, you're not going to spoil lunch by bringing that up again. I thought we were past that."

"I'm never past that." Especially not on the anniversary of the day it happened. Which was why Clark was supposed to be here with him; it was the only day this month both Lex and Lois had had free, and while he wanted to eat with her, the thought of being alone with her on this day creeped him out.

Clark had agreed, but then had disappeared before lunch. The bastard.

Lois pouted her lips in sympathy at him. Reaching out to cover his hand with hers, she said, "My poor baby, you look so tired. I know it's not me you're mad at."

Lex pulled his hand away, feeling burned. "Yes, Lois, it is. I love you. You know I do, I can't seem to stop loving you. But that doesn't keep me from hating you and your company."

"You're just upset about Superman. You're in love with him, and you know that you can't have him."

"Yes, I know I can't have him. That's why I love him."

She frowned. "That makes no sense. But, that's okay; I know how tired you are. You need to sleep." She took his hand again and squeezed. "You were doomed from the start, you know. He was never going to fall in love with you."

Lex's heart froze and he rubbed his eyes. Lois had no fucking idea what she was talking about, so why did it hurt so much to hear? "Am I so unlovable?" he asked whimsically.

"Of course not. You're utterly loveable. But, Lex, Superman is an alien, and aliens are different from us. More advanced, which means that they, well, don't succumb to human weakness like our species does."

"So his species doesn't have sex? Did he tell you that?"

"No, not at all. What I mean is, when the time comes that Superman must take care of his sexual needs, he'll come to me."

Sexual needs. Superman had been nuzzling his neck as they flew. That flight had been the single most sexual experience in Lex's life that didn't actually involve sex. And Superman wouldn't come to him if he ever got, well, horny?

"How would you know, Lois? He might be gay."

"Alien's aren't gay," she said, rolling her eyes as if Lex were the silliest person on earth. "Advanced races don't need sex like we do. They do it for procreation only. Lex, he'll need a child eventually. He's the last of his people. He was obviously sent here to create a new race, a hybrid of human and Kryptonian. A race of super powered beings who will usher this world into a new age."

"And you are going to give birth to this race?"

Lois nodded. She was glowing so brightly, Lex was almost afraid that she was already pregnant and trying to break it to him gently.

"I told him that I would be proud to be the mother of his children. And I would be happy to find other mothers too, if he wants. But I must be the first. I know it's only a matter of time before he takes me up on my offer."

Lex looked at her for a long moment, trying to see if she was joking at all. But she looked so serious, so sure. Her confidence in this pierced him, even as the idea of a superior race of beings mothered by Lois twisted his stomach until he felt sick and scared.

But he couldn't let her see it. Because she was being ridiculous. Superman having sex with her? It was almost as ridiculous as Clark having sex with her.

He started to laugh. Chuckle, really, in a dignified way as he shook his head. As he laughed, he reached for his wine glass only to drop his hand to the table; his hands were trembling

Lois scowled at him. "Laugh all you want, Lex. You know I'm right. It's the desire of all living things to procreate, and if he and I are not compatible, I have the technology to make it work. He'll come to me." She sipped her wine and waited for Lex to calm down.

God, he hated life. Hated it with a burning passion.

"So," he finally said when he could speak again. "What did Superman say when you made your offer?"

She sighed and shrugged elegantly. "Nothing,