Author Notes: Written for the SV Gang's Secret Slasher Christmas Exchange 2004. The challenge was to write a Mary-Sue for privatetentacle. Nuala and privatetentacle are responsible for the Krypto-dingoes, Christopher Marlowe is responsible for "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love", and Last Scorpion's great line about Lionel's death can be found in her story "Wine, A Constant Proof" (also on the SSA).

Prompts: Mary Sue, Possibly Mentally Incompetent Lex, A Wool Toque.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but if I did there would definitely be costumes.

It began with the sheep.

Puffy white wisps of innocence dotted the pristine hillside, munching contentedly on the fresh new shoots that pushed through the thin crust of snow. It was spring in Smallville, and if the grass on the other side of the fence looked just a little more enticing, a little more green than the grass in the pasture, the sheep really couldn't be blamed for wanting it, could they? There was something mesmerizing about the grass, the way it almost seemed to glow with freshness.

It was no wonder the sheep found it ... irresistible.

"Lex, why are there sheep in your woods?" Clark's boots crunched on the remnants of snow beneath the trees.

Lex snickered. "You seem to have an unnatural interest in the movements of farm animals, Clark."

Lex felt warm lips graze his ear as arms drew him closer. "I don't do sheep."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "And your stance on cows?"

"Now who's interested in farm animals?"

"You're the only animal I'm interested in." Lex shifted in Clark's arms and reached up to tangle his fingers in Clark's hair. Clark's mouth tasted like springtime and promises. He kissed him until the lengthening shadows made it impossible to see.

As they walked back to the mansion, Clark's warm hand tucked firmly in his, Lex could just make out the quiet bleating of sheep.

When Poppy Thomas, Smallville's only shepherdess, found her flock had broken through the fence and were roaming the hillside, she didn't think of anything except getting the sheep back where they belonged. She hunted for every last one in the dwindling light, searching as far as the sandy banks of the Green River that ran through the land next to hers. When she found them, the sheep were fat and happy, mouths and stomachs full of bright green grass--and if the grass seemed a little more green than usual, well, Poppy thought, it must be a trick of twilight.

She led the sheep back to their pasture and thought nothing more about it.

"Little boy blue, come blow your horn. The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn."

"Does that mean Poppy got all of her sheep back home, or are you quoting obscure nursery rhymes for some other reason?" Clark asked as he reached for Lex's hand.

"Little boy blue, can I blow your horn?" Lex pushed Clark roughly against a tree and kissed him as if he hadn't seen him in days. It was getting harder and harder to be apart.

"God, Lex, don't tease." There was no conviction behind Clark's protest.

"Who's teasing?" Lex whispered. "*And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls, Melodious birds sing madrigals.*"

Clark reached up and felt Lex's forehead. "Poetry, Lex?"

"And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies."

"Beds of roses, hey?" Clark murmured. "I could go for that."

"A cap of flowers, and a kirtle, Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle."

"What the hell's a kirtle?" Clark said, but he was grinning as Lex left soft wet kisses along the edge of his neck.

"*A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.*"

"I don't need a gown, Lex. I don't go in for the cross-dressing thing."

"Don't knock it til you've tried it, Clark," Lex teased, letting his hands slip beneath Clark's t-shirt, feeling the hard peaks of his nipples and twisting them sharply. He was rewarded by a sharp cry of pleasure. "A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs." He reached for Clark's belt and tugged him closer.

"Heh, studs. That's more like it," Clark said, finding Lex's mouth and tracing the outline of it with his tongue.

Lex broke away only to whisper again: "And if these pleasures may thee move." A stray hand trailed across the front of Clark's jeans, stroking the bulge of Clark's cock. "*Come live with me and be my love.*" Then there was nothing but breathless moans, the soft shush of wool rubbing against denim, the happy sounds of love.

Spring moved into summer and the seasons of farming continued as they always had. There were fuzzy lambs born, woolly winter fleeces sheared to allow new growth, and Poppy spent her days beneath an azure sky, watching her sheep. She had never craved human contact, never felt she missed anything by living alone. She was happy to live in solitude, alone with her thoughts, her books, her journals--her sheep. She was content to observe the world around her, and felt no desire to participate in it.

Her pastureland bordered the Luthor estate and sometimes she would see its owner out for a walk among the grounds, alone or lately more and more with a tall, young man. They seemed to walk and talk for hours, and they never seemed to notice that she was there. Sometimes she heard their laughter carried on the breeze. She suspected that if she made her presence known, their intertwined fingers would drift apart hurriedly, the young man's face reddening like the leaves in fall. It was nothing more than a feeling, an instinct perhaps, but she thought this time of theirs was secret, special, and she could understand the need to keep it private. The world was a cold, hard place for people who weren't the same, who didn't want the same things as everyone else. The way the two men looked at one another--so much at peace--she felt that way with her sheep--as if she were at home in the world, understood. A place where no one expected anything from her, no one asked her to be anything than what she was, a simple shepherdess.

Occasionally she came across Mr. Luthor--Lex, she corrected in her mind, he'd told her to call him Lex--riding the boundaries of the pasture. She had only spoken to him a handful of times, but he had seemed pleasant enough, if totally ignorant about sheep farming. At least he'd been polite and interested, which was more than she could say for most of the other people in Smallville, who seemed to think she was backwards. Odd. Peculiar. She shrugged at the thought--perhaps she was.

"You have to admit it's a bit queer."

Clark choked on the orange juice he'd grabbed on his way across the kitchen, and looked at his father. "What? Who?" he said with a strangled voice.

"Poppy Thomas. She's a strange girl. Queer." Clark remembered how to breathe again.

"Jonathan, she's a perfectly nice girl. She just prefers the company of sheep to that of people," Martha said.

Jonathan snickered as he sat down. "Well, the more people I meet, the more I like my cows."

Clark rolled his eyes and prayed that his dad didn't say stuff like that outside of the farm. Poppy wasn't the only one who was going to be called queer, and Clark deserved it a lot more than she did and for more specific reasons.

"She owns the land next to Lex's mansion, doesn't she?" Martha said, setting another plate of waffles on the table.

"Yeah, she seems pretty nice," Clark supplied between mouthfuls.

Jonathan hesitated with his coffee halfway to his lips. "Speaking of Lex, you've been spending an awful lot of time up at the mansion lately." Jonathan's tone was trying to be neutral, but he didn't quite succeed.

"He's my friend, Dad," Clark said quietly. He ignored the look that passed between his parents. Sooner or later he would have to tell them, but not today.

Poppy heard the names that were muttered as she passed, saw the knowing looks, the snide comments about Poppy and her sheep. She tried to ignore the tuneless humming of "Mary had a little lamb" that seemed to follow her everywhere. She knew that being a shepherdess was an odd profession for a 21st century woman, but she enjoyed her work. There was a certain pride in running the farm by herself, doing everything from birthing the lambs to shearing and carding the wool, and butchering the meat when the time came. Her farm produced the best mutton in Kansas, and that was no mean feat.

As she rode the bus into town, the weekly trip to get supplies for the farm, she sat by herself, as she always did. She never felt comfortable in cars or buses, anything mechanized. Her parents had been believers in doing things under your own power, not relying on technology, and she preferred to walk everywhere. But she'd recognized the benefit of a weekly trip to get supplies. It cut down on her time away from the flock, and since she couldn't hire someone to watch them for her, she didn't like to be away from them for long. There were coyotes and wolves that stalked the borders of the pasture. She'd had to scare them off before. And sometimes, in the night, there were other things that crept along the edges of the shadows. She tried not to think too much about them.

Sometimes she would see Lex from the window of the bus, walking down the street with his dark-haired friend, or more often driving by in one of his cars. They were sleek and grey as wolves, but she sensed nothing but kindness from him. She wondered if she should take him something. Perhaps a rack of mutton when she'd butchered. Something. She felt he understood what it was like to be alone in town, to be misunderstood.

It had been different when her parents had been alive, but since she'd been on her own, well, she felt completely responsible for the farm and everything about it. As if the sheep were her children. Sometimes she imagined she could hear them speaking to her, whispering things about grass and daisies and the way it felt when fingers gently stroked through woolly hair. She knew what sheep dreams were, that fear was a mouth full of teeth and smelled like blood.

She didn't need anything except what she had. She was perfectly content. There was no need to stray from her safe pastures, and she had no desire to meet new people. She had everything to make her happy.

"I thought I heard a gunshot," Clark said, blurring to a stop beside Lex, who was leaning on the fence at the far end of the Luthor estate. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Clark," Lex smiled, and put his arms around the clearly frightened boy.

"I just thought--God, Lex, I was scared."

Lex cupped Clark's face in tender hands and kissed him softly until the tension seemed to dissipate, and Clark relaxed against him.

"I think it was just Poppy. She said there'd been coyotes and dingoes around lately."

"Dingoes, Lex?" Clark's look of concern was replaced by a lopsided grin. "Aren't those wild dogs native to Australia?"

"Yes," Lex explained patiently, "but if you recall, the Metropolis Zoo had a number of them escape last year, and they seem to have found their way here. And since this is Smallville, well, you can't be too careful."

Clark laughed. "Yeah, how dangerous can they be?"

"Don't laugh, Clark," Lex said seriously.

"Invulnerable alien, Lex."

"I'll remember that when I'm explaining how 'krypto-dingoes ate my gay alien lover.'"

Clark sputtered with laughter and kissed Lex lightly. "You have some seriously fucked-up fears, Lex. That's about as likely as that recurring dream you had about Lionel being killed by hyenas in Gotham." (Author's Note: Read Last Scorpion's "Wine, A Constant Proof")

Lex coloured slightly. "It could happen. Anyway I'm assuming the shot was just Poppy scaring away anything that comes too close to her sheep."

Lex held Clark close and ran a gentle hand through his hair. He knew exactly how Poppy felt. He would do anything to protect what he cared about. Anything. He breathed in Clark's clean, warm scent and held him closer as the sun went down.

Poppy hated riding the bus.

She only did it when she absolutely had to. She still remembered the day that she'd felt long fingers tangle in her hair, the woman behind her stroking her like a fond pet. She'd pulled away in horror, tried to retreat from the woman's sincere assertion that she'd never seen hair more lustrous, more healthy. She hadn't noticed the faint crackle of green as the woman withdrew her hand. Poppy had smiled politely and gotten off at the next stop. Lex Luthor had seen her standing on the corner looking like one of her lost sheep and had pulled up to offer her a ride. Before she'd known what was happening, she was saying 'yes' and explaining what had happened. He was so easy to talk to. He'd offered to speak to someone at the bus company on her behalf. She remembered smiling as if someone had given her a present. No one had ever tried to protect her. That was what a shepherd did--it was funny to think of herself as a sheep.

She knew that she had to do something to say thank you. Something more than she would do for anyone else. Something personal that said she understood. She sensed in him a lot of the same things she sensed in her sheep--an underlying fear of the wolf, a need to gather in on oneself, to remain unseen when possible.

She would do something for Lex that would make him remember what it felt like to be warm, and safe. And loved.

"Sorry, I'm late, Clark," Lex said pushing through the doors of the study.

"I thought maybe you got a better offer," Clark said, wrapping his arms around Lex and dragging him down onto the leather couch.

"No such thing." Lex licked his way into Clark's mouth, revelling in the tart taste of apples and cinnamon. "Your mom was making pie, hey?"

Clark blushed and nodded. "I brought you one."

"I like the taste of you better." Warm lips sucked on Clark's tongue, and he felt himself pushing against Lex, trying to get closer.

"So, what kept you?" Clark whispered, fingers easing open the buttons on the front of Lex's shirt.

"I was playing the role of the good shepherd."

"Huh?"

"Poppy had some trouble on the bus, and I gave her a lift home."

"Was that the bus with the crazy mutant who was touching everyone's hair?"

Lex pulled back and looked at him. "I guess so, why? What happened when she touched people's hair?"

"It's not clear. The people that Chloe interviewed just reported that they felt the urge to do something nice for someone."

"One of the less life-threatening mutations. Nice change," Lex murmured, nuzzling at Clark's throat. "Sometimes it's nice not to have hair, although I do occasionally get people asking to rub that bump on the back of my head."

Clark nodded appreciatively, and stroked it. "Ah, the power of The Node."

Lex rolled his eyes. "I really wish you wouldn't call it that, Clark. It sounds like some kind of electronic device."

"Maybe they think it grants wishes, like the Buddha."

"Very funny, farm boy." Lex nipped at Clark's lower lip with his teeth.

"Poppy seemed okay?" Clark settled Lex comfortably in his arms. Everything felt so right when they were together.

"She seemed fine once she was back home."

Clark thought back to his conversation with his parents. "My dad think she's odd."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Your dad thinks purple is odd."

Clark snickered into Lex's neck and kissed him. Thoughts of mutants and buses and sheep scattered like clouds in the wind.

All through the summer and the long fall, Poppy carded the wool and spun it, turning it into skeins that she dyed with berries growing in the woods around her farm. She had noticed Lex liked purple, and she spent days scouring the valley for blackberries, boysenberries, and blueberries. She crushed the berries and boiled them, testing and retesting until she had shades varying from woodland violet to the softest crocus. When everything was ready, she pulled out her needles and began to knit.

"You should get a hat, Lex," Clark said, pulling the mansion door shut behind them. Lex's scalp was pink from the biting wind, and he was rubbing at it with tender hands.

"Did you know that the expression 'mad as a hatter' comes from the fact that mercury was once used in the creation of felt hats, and the unfortunate milliners were inadvertently poisoned in the execution of their craft?"

Clark stared at him wide-eyed. The amount of trivial information stored in Lex's brain was astounding. "No, I didn't know that. Still, since it's unlikely that you'll be actually making the hat, you should be safe."

"I haven't worn a hat since I was five, Clark. It's not a good look for me."

"I bet you'd look cute."

"No hats, Clark. No berets, fedoras, Stetsons, bowlers, toques, caps, top hats, or any other type of headgear."

"Gee, for someone who doesn't like hats, you seem to know an awful lot about them."

"I mean it, Clark. No hats."

Lex looked at the gift in the young woman's outstretched hands, a soft mound of varying shades of purple, woven together into a scarf and toque. Lex took them from her and admired the handiwork--it was exquisite.

"This is really beautiful, Poppy," Lex said. "I'm touched." And it wasn't a lie. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made him something, given him something that had taken time and patience and skill. He felt the warm weight of the scarf as he slipped it around his neck. A shimmer of heat trilled through his body like a memory. He fingered the hat and slipped it on. He remembered when his mother had made him wear a hat to keep his head warm. She had said he looked handsome in it. He smiled and looked at Poppy with bright, sincere eyes.

"You've been so nice to me, Lex. I just wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks, Poppy," Lex said pleasantly, suddenly feeling shy. Poppy was a really nice lady. She gave him a quick hug, and waved as she headed back across the pasture towards her own land. Lex pulled the cap tighter down around his ears, tying it snugly under his chin. Then tying it again for good measure. Wouldn't want the wind to snatch it away, or some older boy to come along and throw it into a tree. No, he had some experience with that. He tied another knot under his chin.

He couldn't remember what he'd been doing before Poppy arrived on his doorstep. He watched her disappear into the shadows; the clouds overhead looked like sheep. He imagined he could see wolves in the pasture, their red eyes dark like his father's. Suddenly, he felt a chill. He wondered what Clark was doing.

"I'll get it," Clark said, reaching for the phone and checking the caller ID. "Hey, Lex."

There was something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle from the other end.

"Lex?" Clark asked. Maybe some kid had ripped off Lex's cell phone.

"There's a wolf in the pasture," a voice managed to get out between breathless giggles. It sounded like Lex--and yet not.

"Lex, are you drunk?" Clark asked quietly, cupping his hand around the mouthpiece and hoping that his parents couldn't hear his conversation. More giggling.

"There's a wolf in the pasture, Clark."

"Are you talking in code, Lex?" Clark secretly hoped that he was. Maybe it was some kind of kinky foreplay. "Am I the sheep?" he whispered. He had to repress a shiver. God, Lex had a way of making sex seem like a never-ending choose-your-own-adventure novel. Clark never knew what to expect, but if this involved a shepherd's costume and a crook, he was there.

"No, Clark, don't be silly," Lex said in a voice that spoke of exaggerated patience. He could almost see Lex putting his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes--if Lex were a girl and ten years old. It was a bizarre visual.

"Lex, what's going on?"

More giggling. "Come over and play." Clark was left listening to a dial tone and trying to decide which alternate universe the phone call had come from, and if it was a universe that would include sex. And possibly costumes. He had absolutely no trouble constructing a universe in which Lex was a wolf and he was a sheep. He figured he'd better get over to the mansion and find out exactly what was going on.

"Like a lamb to the slaughter," he murmured to himself as he tugged on his new thong underwear before heading for Lex's.

Clark went straight to Lex's study. There was no one there. Lex's bedroom was also empty. He quickly scanned the mansion top to bottom until he found a familiar skeleton scrunched up in a window seat. Clark sped to the third floor and pulled back the loose burgundy curtain.

Clark let out a gasp as he took in Lex's appearance--dress pants and an untucked shirt, which in itself would've been enough to get Clark's attention, but the crowning touch, the item that made Clark sure that he would require a hoist to get his jaw up off the floor was the woollen hat in various shades of purple. A matching scarf coiled loosely around Lex's neck.

"Lex?" Clark had to stop himself from pulling Lex into his arms. God, he looked adorable, all young and cuddly. Lex's cheeks were practically glowing, and his eyes shone with a gleam that Clark didn't know if he'd ever seen. Maybe Clark had gotten Lex's secret message wrong--maybe it was Lex who was supposed to be the sheep, and Clark the wolf. Or maybe this had something to do with Lex's excessive protest about wearing hats. Clark could feel his cock starting to quiver with anticipation as the game got underway.

He knelt down beside the window seat and rested his hands on the edge. He leaned in close and smiled the way he'd seen Lex do on a number of occasions. When he spoke, his voice was low and as sexy as he could make it. "So, who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?"

To his surprise, a look of horror crossed Lex's face. His eyes got large and Clark could've sworn that he could see tears welling up in Lex's eyes. Clark pulled back sharply.

"Lex?"

"I made it up about the wolf in the pasture," Lex said hurriedly. "Don't be mad. I just wanted you to come over. There isn't really a wolf, is there?"

"No, there's no wolf," Clark said slowly, kissing his fantasies good-bye and trying to figure out why Lex suddenly sounded like a scared, little kid. His cock twitched in protest at this turn of events. "Um, Lex, are you feeling okay?"

This was Smallville, after all, and Clark had lived here all his life. Whatever had turned Lex from corporate titan to the boy who cried wolf had to be dealt with and quickly. Clark wanted his boyfriend back. Thongs were not meant to be worn for long periods of time.

Lex was looking at him suspiciously. Clark reached out and took Lex's hand.

"Lex, you need to tell me exactly what you did today."

"Okay, so what did you do after the boring meeting with the stuffy guys in suits?" Clark asked, filing this moment away to remind Lex of whenever life went back to normal.

"I drank some yucky scotch." Lex made a face, twirling the ends of his new scarf between his fingers. Clark snickered. God, if he'd thought to bring a video-recorder, he would have blackmail material for years.

"And then there was a wolf at the door." Again with the wolves, but this time Lex sounded sincere, and just a little bit scared.

"A real wolf or a pretend wolf?"

"My father," Lex whispered, burying his face in Clark's neck. Clark tightened his arms around Lex and held him close. If he was ever in a position to make Lionel Luthor accountable for the psychological damage he'd inflicted on his son, Clark swore he would stop at nothing to ensure Lionel paid for making Lex this afraid.

"It's okay, Lex. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

"You'd make a good shepherd, Clark," Lex said sincerely. Clark almost kissed him then, but caught himself in time and pressed a chaste pair of lips against Lex's cheek instead. He suddenly understood the definition of pederasty in a whole new way. Damn Lex for ever teaching him what it meant.

"Then what happened?"

Lex yawned and shook his head. "I dunno. Can we go see the sheep?"

"Lex, try to stay focussed," Clark said patiently. "We'll visit the sheep after." A sudden thought occurred to Clark. "Did you see Poppy today?"

Lex's face lit up. He sat up straighter and pulled the ends of his scarf around his neck. "She made me this scarf and hat. I get hit in the head a lot, and it's soft and warm. Isn't it beautiful?" Lex drew out the syllables so the word sounded like "byoo-ti-ful."

"It's really great, Lex," Clark said rubbing his hand along the scarf. He felt a faint tingle in the palm of his hand. That was weird. Clark dipped his head and took a good look at the ties to the cap, which were wrapped under Lex's chin.

Clark didn't even try to hide his amazement. Clark didn't think Lex had ever been a Boy Scout, but apparently he'd managed to fasten the toque with an assortment of knots that would've made a merchant mariner proud. Maybe he'd dated a Boy Scout, Clark decided, or a naval officer. Hell, Lex could've dated the whole seventh fleet for all Clark knew. He really needed to pay more attention to getting Lex to talk about his own life rather than filtering everything through ancient Greece and Rome. Knowing what happened between Alexander and Hephaestion was interesting, but at this point, not entirely helpful.

Clark stared at the knots. It would take him at least ten minutes to properly untie them, possibly more. He could burn through the knot, but that might scare Lex or hurt him and he didn't want to risk that. He wasn't sure he could physically rip the material without frightening Lex. His palm was still tingling from the earlier touch, and Clark wasn't even certain that the fabric would tear. Still, if the hat and scarf were the only new things in Lex's life today, the possibility that they were responsible for his personality change was pretty good.

"Can I see your hat?" Clark asked reaching for the ties. Lex glanced at him suspiciously.

"It's my hat."

"I know it's your hat, Lex. It's a beautiful hat. I just wanted to look at it." Lex pulled back and tied another knot under his chin with nimble fingers. Jeez, getting that hat off was going to be more complicated than breaking into Fort Knox.

"You can't have it," Lex said with clear malice in his voice. It was probably a damn good thing that Lex had been an only child. Clark could only imagine what kind of retaliation a young Luthor could have come up with to punish someone who made the mistake of touching his things. And a bald Luthor apparently identified a hat as something worth fighting for. Clark might have been an invulnerable alien, but he wasn't certain he wanted to risk putting his fingers anywhere near Lex's hat. Lex didn't look like he would hesitate to bite someone--even Clark. Not for the first time, Clark wondered how Lex had gotten the scar on his lip.

Lex scrunched further into the corner, and put both hands on top of his head. His fingers clutched at the purple pom-pom resting squarely in the centre of the hat. Clark couldn't help but smile.

"You're just so fucking adorable!" Clark burst out. Lex stared at him in wide-eyed innocence.

"You said a bad word, Clark!" It was the first time Clark had ever seen Lex blush. He was surprised how turned on he was getting, and tried to push back those feelings. There was something about Lex being this open and vulnerable that was ... Christ, Lex was blushing and Clark was feeling like a dirty old man.

"Come on, Lex," Clark said reaching for his hand. "We're going to need some help."

"Where are we going?" Lex asked putting his hand cautiously into Clark's, the other hand steadfastly maintaining a grip on his woolly purple hat.

"It's a surprise."

It took exactly three minutes of the Lexian chorus of "are we there yet?" for Clark to decide that it would've been easier to just pick Lex up and super-speed to the farmhouse. But then he would've had to tell his parents that Lex knew everything, and that he and Lex were sleeping together. Neither of those were conversations he wanted to have tonight, especially when Lex was ... not quite himself. As it was, he figured he could be forgiven for busting the speed limit. It was for a good cause--his sanity.

Clark pushed through the front door. "Mom?"

"Hey, Clark."

"Chloe? What are you doing here? And where's my mom?" Clark said. He tried to discretely get Lex to release his hand, but Lex wasn't having any of it. He smiled at Chloe warmly.

"Hi, Chloe," Lex said brightly.

"Hey, Lex. Nice hat," Chloe said with a sarcastic smirk, clearly missing Clark's look that suggested as vehemently as possible--without setting her on fire--that the hat was off-limits as a conversation topic.

"Chloe," Clark breathed through clenched teeth. "Ix-nay on the at-hay." Clark saw Lex's happy grin dim to a frown. Shit, all he needed was to get in the middle of a fashion debate between Lex and Chloe. It wasn't pretty when Lex was completely himself and somewhat restrained; God only knew how much worse a younger Lex could be.

"Et tu, Clark?" Lex said in a low voice. It figured that he not only knew pig latin, but real Latin as well. Clark rolled his eyes and glared at Chloe.

"What did I do?" Chloe asked.

"Girls are stupid," Lex said quietly, sitting down and pulling his hand from Clark's. He wrapped his arms around himself in a protective gesture and glared across at Chloe.

"Whoa. Back up the Twilight Zone express, guys. What the hell's going on?" Chloe said glancing from Lex to Clark and back again. Clark put his hands on her arms and looked at her.

"Chloe. Not now. Where's my mom?"

"She said she had to run into town to get something. I told her I'd just wait for you. What's with Lex and the hat that ate Metropolis?"

"Chloe." Clark might have grabbed her arm just a little harder than necessary. He pulled her over to the side. Lex was carefully examining the ceiling and steadfastly ignoring Chloe. Clark thought he saw a tear trickle down one cheek. God, he owed Lex big-time for this. "Something happened to Lex. I think it's the hat."

"Well, yeah, Clark, get the fashion police on that right away. We have a victim."

"No, that's not what I mean. Lex isn't himself. He's ... it's like he's a kid again."

"Well, where'd he get the hat?"

"Poppy Thomas."

"The Good Shepherdess?" Chloe pulled a map out of her bag. "Her property is right next to Lex's mansion. I've been investigating the effects of meteor rocks on Smallville's water table. The highest concentration of rocks are in the Green River, which runs right through that land. Last year's spring run-off was the largest ever. What if the water from that run-off was infected by the rocks, and in turn affected the grass that the sheep ate ..."

"In turn affecting the wool that the sheep produced, which Poppy then turned into yarn from which she knitted this hat for Lex. Of course!" Clark shouted.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," Lex mumbled from his corner.

"Which probably means that it's true," Chloe said helpfully.

"That may explain why the hat seems to have strange regressive properties--" Clark said, pacing the kitchen.

"Um, not really," Lex interjected.

"--but it still doesn't help us get the hat off."

Just then Martha Kent pushed through the door, and took in the scene. Her eyes drifted across each of them taking in the maps spread out on the table, Clark's concerned look, and Lex's new hat.

"Mom," Clark said, giving her what he hoped was a meaningful look. Please don't let her mention the hat. If there was a God ...

She walked across the room and knelt in front of Lex. "My, what a beautiful hat, Lex," she said. "Is it new?"

He nodded shyly while Chloe and Clark stared in amazement.

"You must be awfully hot with it on, though," Martha said, reaching out to carefully unthread the tangled knots at his neck. To Clark's surprise, Lex lifted his chin and let Martha untie the strings. "We'll take it off and hang it up, and then we'll have some cookies. How about that, Lex?"

Another nod. Clark had never had greater respect for his mother than at that exact moment. She kept talking softly to Lex while she carefully navigated the ties in and out of a complicated series of loops. When the last knot was undone, Martha slipped the hat gently off Lex's head and unwound the scarf from around his neck. Lex immediately shook his head and blinked at her.

"Lex?" Clark asked carefully.

"What the fuck was in that hat?" Lex said, standing up so abruptly that he knocked over the chair he'd been sitting in. He rubbed at the top of his head as if he could wash away the residue of the wool, when he realized Martha was still standing there looking at him with a slight grin.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kent. I apologize for the outburst. It's just that ..."

"You were possessed by your inner child being channelled through the spirit of a pom-pom hat," Chloe volunteered cheerfully. She seemed to have forgotten that Lex was the kind of person who could have her killed for far less than making fun of his hat. Chloe didn't back away from the daggers being aimed in her direction, but she did gather up her bag and head for the door. "See you tomorrow!"

"If she took pictures, Clark," Lex said evenly, "I cannot be held responsible for her safety. Or yours."

"No pictures, Lex. I swear." Clark said. His tone might have sounded just a tad too regretful for his own good, but he didn't really care. Lex had been so damn cute. If Clark had thought they could counter-act the kryptonite effects he would've suggested that Lex wear the hat some other time. To bed. He wondered if it was possible to be a dirty old man at seventeen--if he was he had no doubt it was all Lex's fault.

"So, Mrs. Kent," Lex said, setting up the chair that he'd knocked over. "How did you know what to do?"

"I'm a mother, Lex," she said, laying a hand on his cheek. "Sometimes a mother just has to look into a child's eyes--any child's--and she knows exactly what's going on." She glanced at Clark with a look that said that she knew everything. Everything. Clark blushed.

"So, your mother knows everything, huh?" Lex asked as they pulled into the driveway of the mansion. Clark shut off the engine.

"Apparently we weren't that subtle."

"Well, at least we don't have to hide anymore," Lex murmured, sliding across the front seat and climbing into Clark's lap.

"Lex! Come on, you just went from six to twenty-three in about an hour. Give me a little time to adjust."

Long fingers brushed Clark's lap, and he bit back a low moan. Lex laughed against his neck. "Yeah, admit it, until you realized what was going on, you thought I looked hot in that hat."

"I thought no such thing." Clark's shifting and squirming only succeeded in bringing them closer together. Lex was sucking kisses into Clark's neck.

"Do the words 'you look fucking adorable' mean anything to you, Clark?"

"I refuse to answer the question," Clark said, breathless and hard, hands fumbling with the buttons on Lex's shirt.

"Then I guess I probably shouldn't ask what you meant by 'am I the sheep, Lex?'" Lex said in a voice that said he had a pretty damn good idea exactly what Clark meant by that.

Clark blushed. "God, where's that convenient amnesia when I need it?" Lex laughed against his skin and pulled open his shirt, letting his hands roam roughly over Clark's chest.

"Do you want to go inside, Clark?" Lex murmured, teeth grazing a nipple. Clark looked up at the dent he'd just put in the ceiling of the truck.

"I think we'd better," Clark said. "I don't think I want to explain body part shaped dents in the truck." Clark pushed the door open and tugged Lex after him as they headed for the house. Hand in hand they ran through the main doors and up the stairs, tumbling onto the bed. Clark had never been happier to feel Lex's familiar weight in his arms. He held him and kissed him and loved him until the stars climbed into the sky.

Somewhere in the distance a coyote howled.

"I think you'll be happy here, Poppy," Lex said kindly, pressing his thumb against the elevator panel. The shiny metal elevator slowed and a display said Level 33.1. The doors slid open invitingly.

Lex stepped from the elevator, taking her hand gently and showing her the area that had been constructed for her. Her sheep were already grazing contentedly in a replica of the pastureland they'd called home for so long, and Poppy nodded happily. If one didn't look too closely, it was possible not to notice that the vistas were being projected onto large screens, the sound of the Green River rippling from a high-quality stereo system. The grass under feet seemed real, if not quite as green as it was at home, and the warm woollen smell of sheep was right, even if the light that touched her face didn't quite feel like sunshine.

A small white rabbit hopped across her path, and she bent to pick it up. It twitched its nose at her and looked at her with bright pink eyes. A young girl ran up and held her arms out for it. Poppy gave it to her and patted the girl on the head. It seemed like such a peaceful place. The sheep were happy, and that was really all that mattered.

She hadn't really wanted to leave her home, but when Lex had explained what the effects of the meteor rock were on the sheep, she'd agreed in a moment. She would do anything for the sheep, protect them at all costs. At least here they could be monitored, watched, protected ... and so could she. Lex had told her that.

He really was a good shepherd. She knew that he would take care of her.

She found a space in the field on a small rise where she could watch everything. Just as she always had. She reached into her bag and pulled out a ball of yarn. Humming absently, she began to knit.

THE END