A/N: They say every flower has a meaning...which one fits Lana?

(This has vague spoilers for an upcoming episode of "Smallville," but nothing major.)

Hearts and Flowers

The pale pink, lace-trimmed card announced the news in elegantly engraved script:

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Alexander J. Luthor and Lana Potter Lang.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Luthor Mansion"

Seated at her gilded French Rococo style dressing table, Lana surveyed the card thoughtfully, considering what to write while she inspected her perfect complexion in the mirror. Sighing unhappily, she added a note in lavender ink:

"Dearest Nell:

Even though we haven't spoken in four years, you're the closest thing I have to a family, so I hope you'll be able to attend my wedding.

Please don't let old times come between us. As traumatic as those artificial Christmas trees and those terrible birthday parties were, they're all water under the bridge now. Nothing can compare to the misery of marrying a billionaire I don't love.

Even if he is the father of my baby. You don't know how terrifying it is, being saddled with the unexpected responsibility of a child. If only my friends had warned me this might happen!

I'm looking forward to telling you the whole sad story when you get here. I know you'll want to hear every detail.

Sorry I haven't kept in touch, but I'm sure you realize how difficult it's been for me these past few years, trying to cope with a string of disappointing relationships while attempting to carry a full course load at Met U. (I know the school's only about three blocks from your house, but I was usually too upset to attend class, so I was never around that much.)

By the way, how is your husband? I'm sorry I can't remember his name. I hope he doesn't mind not being invited. I'd like to keep the guest list as small as possible, and there's really no room for anyone but family and friends. I know you'll understand.

Your devoted niece,

Lana

P.S. Please wear something purple."

Lana sighed again, added a small heart after her name, and sealed the envelope.

A few weeks later, the reply arrived:

"Dearest Lana:

How wonderful to hear from you!! I'd love to attend your wedding, but, unfortunately, Dean—my husband, you remember?—and I have just made plans for a marvelous trip to Zimbabwe, and as luck would have it, we're leaving on your wedding day. I'm so sorry we won't have the opportunity to catch up.

But what kind of aunt would I be if I didn't want to do everything I could to make your day special? I hope you'll let me contribute your wedding bouquet. I've got just the thing in mind; I'll be sending it from my florist's shop here in Metropolis in time for the Big Day.

All the Best,

Nell"

The day of her wedding, Lana opened a special delivery package and gasped in delight. In the box, wrapped in tissue and surrounded by a cloud of white baby's-breath, was the most unusual and lovely bouquet of purple flowers she'd ever seen. Each hinged petal was fringed with sharp edges, like teeth.

She gazed at them, fascinated. It was truly unique, and the violet petals even matched her colors.

It was the perfect bouquet. As she lifted it from the box and posed in front of the mirror in her wedding gown, she almost forgave Nell for abandoning her.

Lex walked in and narrowed his eyes curiously.

"Lana? What are you doing with those Venus flytraps?"

THE END

A/N: Well, at least they're purple. And they're probably pretty hungry. (Evil grin.)