Title: Papa Don't Preach
Author: PepperjackCandy
Series: No
Archive : LexSlash, CLexslash, my writing at fanfiction.net
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Category: Drama/Romance/Science Fiction
Spoilers for: Nothing
This was written for the 80s Smallville Fic Challenge (http://www.sjlee.org/smallville/ficchallenge.html)
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics.
Feedback: Always welcome, either by e-mail or using the review system at fanfiction.net.
Warning: Mpreg (well? What did you expect from a Clex fic called "Papa Don't Preach"?)
A/N: The reproductive cycle here is shamelessly stolen from the reproductive cycle of the kangaroo. Sort of. You'll see what I mean. Anyway, I'm deliberately skipping over the special effects. If you want to see how it works, go here: http://home.mira.net/~areadman/birth.htm
=====
2005
"Hey." Chloe dropped into the seat across from Clark in the Talon. "You look good this morning."
"Do I?"
"Yep." She nodded, cocking her head to one side. "Really good. There's something about you. A glow."
"Glow?" Clark repeated dumbly, trying to resist the urge to touch the small bulge just above his pelvic bone.
"Well, now you don't look so good. You've gone all . . . pasty."
"It's nothing. I just have to go to the bathroom."
"Again?"
"Yep. You know how I am. Going to the bathroom all the time." This was a lie. He had a period when he had to urinate constantly, but it seemed that phase had passed.
Clark had reached the employees' bathroom and, after locking the door, untucked his shirt. There, the faintest line ran crosswise across his body, just below his navel. I always thought I was a male primate. Turns out I'm a female marsupial. Who knew?
He longed to peel back the flap of skin and see the little red embryo that had pulled itself up his body hair and down into his pouch that morning, but he didn't know if he'd hurt it by doing that, so he resisted.
Instead, he ran his fingers lightly, reverently, along the small lump that was . . . My baby. Lex's and my baby.
***
After he and Chloe finished their meeting, Clark went to Lex's house to work on his English term paper on a PowerBook that Lex had recently purchased. When he'd shown Clark where he kept it, he'd insisted adamantly that it was *not* a gift, that he'd bought it for his own use. Yet Clark noticed that Lex never touched it. It was always in the desk drawer where Clark stashed it after each work session.
He opened the drawer to find a hand-penned note on the blue paper Lex kept for his notes to Clark, I'll be here to get you for dinner.
Warm waves of affection flowed through Clark at Lex's handwriting. That's your Daddy, he thought, caressing the tiny bulge in his abdomen. Or am I your Daddy? Hm. We'll work it out later.
Clark cherished that warmth as he carried the notebook computer over to the sofa. He thought about putting it on his lap, but he didn't want to squash the baby. The baby. What will Lex say when I tell him?
The warmth was suddenly gone, replaced by the cold, fight-or-flight sensation that he'd been avoiding ever since he'd helped the little one climb up and into his pouch. He quickly squashed that feeling down and set in to work on his English paper.
Clark wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the next time he looked up, it was nearly dark, and Lex was standing in the doorway of the study.
"You ready for dinner?" He asked.
"What time's it?"
"6:00. Let's get a move on, Farmboy."
Clark nearly melted in the warmth of love and adoration from Lex's eyes. "Just a second." He shut the computer down and stood. "How do I have to dress for this?"
"What you're wearing will be fine."
Clark followed Lex out into the corridor, but instead of heading for the foyer, Lex turned, taking Clark farther down the corridor.
At the end of the hallway, they went through a doorway, then down a flight of stairs.
"Lex?"
"Hmmm?"
"Are you taking me to the dungeon?"
"That depends. Is that the sort of thing you'd enjoy?"
"Maybe . . ." He said seductively. Get a grip, Kent. With the baby so close to the surface, those kind of games are out. You'd better not even hint about it. With great difficulty, Clark resisted the urge to touch the baby again.
They'd reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lex grinned lasciviously. "Well, we can save that for after dinner."
Clark felt himself becoming aroused by the desire in Lex's eyes, and this time, he *did* touch the baby, grounding himself, reminding himself that he didn't dare let Lex see him naked. Not until he told him the truth.
Lex didn't notice the brief movement of Clark's hand, for he was opening a door on the right-hand side of the hallway. He ushered Clark in.
What Clark saw there made him exclaim, "Lex!"
It was a stereotypical middle-class dining room, one that looked like it was stolen from the set of a family sitcom. An oval oak table sat in the middle of the room with six chairs clustered around it. A brass five-light lamp hung over the table. In the corner was a hutch in the same style and wood as the table and chairs. The walls were covered in a dusty rose wallpaper with a tiny white pattern.
Clark turned an inquiring gaze on Lex, who shrugged offhandedly. "You've lived my lifestyle for three years now – parties, five-star restaurants, all of that. Well, I thought that since I'm in this for the long haul, I should show you that I'm capable of living your lifestyle, too."
Clark felt his eyes misting over. "You're . . . in this for the long haul?"
Lex nodded. "I thought you knew that." He walked over to Clark, the intentness in his blue eyes pulling Clark's head down to his for a kiss.
No sooner had Clark settled into the kiss, then they were interrupted by a buzzer. "Damn. That's the rolls."
"The Rolls?" Clark had never heard Lex mention a Rolls Royce among his cars. Maybe it was new.
"The rolls. For dinner. You know, bread? I've got to go get them."
"Oh." Clark nodded. "You'd better get up there, then."
"Yeah." Lex nodded, then with difficulty turned away from Clark and left the room.
The giddy, happy feeling was back. Lex wants to be with me for the long haul. Forever. He grinned. Maybe everything will work out fine.
He was still on this high when Lex came back. He kissed Clark quickly and then walked to the wall next to the china hutch, where he opened a panel to reveal a dumbwaiter. "I know, I should have carried this down here by hand . . ." He proceeded to empty the dumbwaiter, carrying the dishes over to the table.
"Did I say anything?" Clark asked. "Can I help you?"
"No. I'm trying to show off, here, Clark." Lex reminded him with a grin.
"Sorry." Clark tried to sound affronted, but he couldn't help grinning back.
Lex proceeded to bring roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls, butter, and a pitcher of milk from the dumbwaiter.
The thought that even in showing that he could live in Clark's world, Lex couldn't resist a grand gesture occurred to Clark, and Clark smiled fondly.
"What?"
Clark's smile grew. "Nothing."
"Clark . . ."
"I was just thinking how much I love you."
It was the first time either of them had said the words. The room grew completely quiet, and Clark realized that a clock was the only thing missing from the room. The silence needed to be filled with the sound of ticking.
Lex smiled softly. "I love you, too." Lex's eyes misted over and he walked to sit on Clark's lap.
Clark was pretty sure the baby was safe, but didn't want to risk Lex squashing it, so as Lex's head came down for a long kiss, he unobtrusively shifted Lex slightly away from the bulge.
Lex pulled the collar of Clark's shirt away from his neck, licking and nuzzling his way from ear to shoulder. "You know what?" Lex asked.
"What?"
"I have a microwave in the kitchen."
"And?"
"And we could go upstairs, and then reheat the food once we're ready for it."
It took Clark a moment for his brain to work out the implications of this. Going upstairs to make love would involve nudity and touching, and Clark couldn't afford to have Lex find the baby before he was able to prepare him for the news. "No." He kissed Lex again.
"You want to do it here on the table?" Lex asked hopefully.
"Actually, I'm just *really* hungry."
"Clark?" Lex asked in a warning tone. It was clear that Lex saw right through that lie.
Clark sighed. "All right. We have . . . things to talk about. We can make love afterwards."
Lex sat back, still on Clark's lap. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah." Clark responded unconvincingly. "It's just, you know, stuff."
Lex nodded. "Tell you what. Let's have dinner first, then we can talk, *then* we can make love."
Clark grinned blindingly at him. "Sounds like a plan."
"Strangely, the most challenging part of this meal was the mashed potatoes. I was pretty sure I had to peel them, but I didn't know that there was a special tool for it. Kari came in while I was chopping big chunks from one of the potatoes with a paring knife. My cook's one patient lady."
They continued to eat, sharing war stories about learning to cook, until finally, all of the food had been eaten.
"Dessert first, or confession?" Clark asked.
"It's your confession."
Clark nodded. "Let's go up to the study, then."
They sat together on the sofa where Clark had been doing his homework earlier and sat close together. Lex, sensing Clark's nervousness, took his lover's hand.
Clark decided to jump right into the first issue at hand. "I know that you think I'm a meteor mutant, but I'm, well, I'm not."
Lex tightened his grip on Clark's hand comfortingly, then nodded for him to continue.
Clark took a huge breath, then said, "I'm pretty sure that I'm not even human. My parents found me the day of the meteor storm, and near me there was a pod of some sort, like a ship, but small. It's in my parents' storm cellar now. I've always been stronger and faster than other kids, and gradually I started to get other things, gifts, like x-ray vision, and now I'm not even sure I'm the male of my species because I'm pregnant."
There was a long, heart stopping moment before Lex responded. Finally, he turned slightly towards Clark and reached up with his free hand, carding his fingers through Clark's hair then drawing his fingertips along Clark's jaw line. "We'll get through this." He said, reassuringly, then, "Why do you think that you're pregnant?"
"Because," Clark pleaded silently for Lex to believe him, "I saw it. Today."
"Is this an x-ray vision thing?"
"Not really. It sort of . . . crawled up my leg and into my pouch." Clark tried not to wince at how lame that sounded.
"You have a pouch?"
Clark nodded. "Like a kangaroo. See?"
He untucked his shirt and unbuttoned the button on his jeans, then ran his fingertip under the edge of the pouch.
Lex's jaw dropped in wonder. "May I?"
"Sure."
Soon, Lex's fingertip disappeared into the pouch. "You have a pouch. May I see the baby?"
"I'm not sure it's safe. It's sort of small. . . "
"Well, it would be, wouldn't it?"
"Here. You can feel it right here." Clark guided Lex's hand down to the bulge.
Lex touched it, then drew his hand back like he'd been burned, and Clark could see Lex withdrawing. "Who's the father?"
"What? You are!"
"There's no way I could be the father of . . . *that*!"
Clark recoiled as if he'd been slapped.
Lex hurriedly tried to do damage control. "No, Clark. I didn't mean it that way. What I meant is that I don't have much experience with kids, but I do know that an embryo's an embryo. And at two weeks, at most, after conception, an embryo's smaller than that."
"I don't know anything about that. I just know that you're the only lover I've ever had. You have to be the father."
All of Clark's lies and omissions through their years of friendship bore bitter fruit; Lex didn't believe him. "I won't be angry, Clark. It wouldn't be the first time a Luthor laid claim to another man's get, but I have to know who I'm covering for. If it's Pete . . . "
"It's not Pete!"
Lex repeated himself as if Clark hadn't interrupted. "If it's Pete, it'll be a little harder to spin; I thought we'd have the birth certificate name you as father and we'd invent a mother. So far as I know, you don't even know any black women, so that might pose some problems, but we'll manage."
This last comment went right over Clark's head. "It's not Pete. It's not anyone. It's you."
Lex completely shut down then. "Fine."
"Lex, please . . ."
In a warning tone, "Clark."
Clark looked into Lex's eyes, saw the intractability there. Sadly, slowly, he stood. "It *is* yours, Lex."
When Lex didn't respond, Clark went home.
***
Clark super-speeded home – he had nothing to hide from Lex, not anymore – and headed up to his bedroom.
Overwhelmed by his depression, Clark threw himself onto his bed. And promptly realized he'd left his book bag at Lex's. "Shit."
"Clark! Watch your language!"
He'd left his bedroom door open. "Oops. Sorry, Mom."
She came in and sat down on the bed beside Clark, running her fingers through his hair in a maternal gesture. "Now, what was so awful that you needed to swear?"
"I left my books over at Lex's."
"Oh, and I can see how that would be the end of the world. You can get them tomorrow."
Clark sighed despondently.
"What was that for?"
"We had a . . . disagreement."
"Well, things have come between you before. Remember when your father was hospitalized from his exposure to the Nicodemus flower?"
Clark goggled at her, and she smiled. "Don't think I don't notice when you and Lex aren't getting along, Clark. You mope around like you've lost, well, your best friend. And you always make up."
"It's not going to happen, Mom. This is it. He's never going to forgive me."
"I doubt it. The two of you always manage to find your way back to each other."
Clark had the feeling that Martha knew that he and Lex were lovers, but he was afraid to ask. He smiled weakly. "Yeah. Maybe you're right. I think I'm going to get some sleep."
"Everything will look better in the morning, honey." She kissed him on the top of his head and went to the door. "Would you like me to turn out the light?"
"Yeah. Thanks Mom. Night."
Martha turned out the light. "Good night, sweetie."
She closed the door, and Clark turned over onto his side and went to sleep, one hand resting on the bulge in his abdomen.
***
Lex wasn't sure what he was doing out at . . . there were some numbers on the dashboard – 35. That didn't make any sense. 35 wasn't a time.
Wait. Other numbers over there. 330. 330? The scenery outside wasn't going fast enough for that.
No, 330 was the time. 3:30.
Lex wasn't sure what he was doing out at 3:30. In the morning, evidently, since it usually wasn't this dark at 3:30 in the afternoon.
What was he doing again? Oh, right. He'd been drinking. Sleep had eluded him. So had entertainment, his television and video game console just boring him. So he'd had a drink. And another. And another.
Eventually he'd made a decision that led him out here, wherever here was, at 3:30 in the morning.
He recognized this street. He drove it nearly every day, going to . . . Clark's house.
Oh, Christ. He couldn't go to Clark's house. His parents would wake up when they heard the car engine.
That was easily solved though. Lex left his car across the street half a block away and walked the rest of the way, if it could be called walking. The cadence was more of stumble, shuffle, lurch. But it got him where he was going.
He thought he was where he was headed, at least. Yeah. The Kents's storm cellar. Then he just had to pick the lock, a simple proposition when he was sober, but somewhat complicated by the scotch in his system.
Lock picking was done by feel, so at least the darkness wasn't a hindrance to his attempt. Eventually, the padlock popped open with a soft click, and Lex opened it, removed it, and set it aside.
Carefully, he lifted the latch, opening the lock as quietly as he could. He lifted first the right half of the door, then the left, hoping it was quiet enough that it wouldn't wake the Kents. He was just glad they didn't have a dog.
Lex stared down into the open maw of the storm cellar. The full moon overhead cast enough light that Lex could see the ladder descending from the doorway. Or was it supposed to be stairs? Really . . . steep stairs.
Lex knew that there was no way he could navigate those stairs in his current inebriated state, so, with a vague prayer to assorted powers he wasn't sure he really believed in, he jumped.
***
Clark sat up, his heart pounding. The sound of someone landing on dirt, like they'd just jumped from the Fortress of Solitude, woke him up. No one should be out there at this time of night. Morning. He corrected himself when he saw that his bedside clock said 4:15.
He didn't want to wake his parents up, so he super-speeded down the stairs and out the door.
It only took a moment to survey the yard for the source of the noise, and terror slammed through him at the sight of the open storm cellar door. Who's in there, and what are they doing to do with what they've found?
***
Lex landed a little harder than he'd intended, but the alcohol in his system cushioned him from the pain in his ankle. He wished he'd brought a flashlight, but the light of the moon streamed down into the cellar, allowing him to catch the glint of metal from the far corner.
It was a matter of seconds to cross to the pod, for the pod is what it was. With difficulty, he pushed it across the floor into the shaft of light.
Now, if I were going to send my child across the galaxy, where would I put any kind of owners' manual, anatomy instruction . . .
Lex quickly disregarded the exterior of the craft, except for trying to figure out how to get it open. Finally, he found the catch and it popped open on a clamshell hinge.
Looking into the craft, Lex figured that Clark must have traveled to Earth in some sort of suspended animation. There was no seat or anything like that, just a soft surface with a slight body-shaped indentation about three feet long.
Easily slipping into a Zen-like state, Lex ran his hands lightly over the interior of the craft, waiting for instinct to tell him what he was looking for.
Finally, he found it -- a place where the there was a vague, egg-shaped bump in the ceiling just above where Clark's head would have been if he'd been reclining in the bottom of the pod.
He pressed in, and was immediately thrown backwards by a deafening blast of sound.
***
Clark heard the alarm go off, and ran down into the storm cellar at superspeed.
The alarm stopped the moment Clark's feet touched the ground of the cellar. A beam of light shot out of the front of the pod, coalescing into the form of a man wearing some kind of one-piece suit.
"Kal-El, I am a graphic representation of your father, Jor-El. I have been sent with you to answer any questions you have about your home planet, your ancestry, or your physiology. Ask, and I will answer."
It was then that Clark noticed Lex standing about ten feet away from the pod, a stunned expression on his face, as he looked at Jor-El's image. He looked over at Clark, still with the same deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Clark crossed to him and asked, quietly, "What are you doing here?"
"Huh?" Lex asked with the air of someone who hadn't heard the question.
Clark sighed. He couldn't raise his voice without getting an answer from Jor-El, so instead, figuring that he could ask questions of Lex later, he turned to Jor-El. "I'm apparently pregnant. How did this come about?"
"You are the last of the Kryptonian people, Kal-El.
"Two different intelligent life forms, similar in body type, developed on Krypton. For millennia, the two species warred with one another. Many times, alliance marriages were attempted to bring the fighting to a halt, but as they were different species, they were not able to create offspring, and the truce inevitably ended at the end of the lives of the couple.
"Finally, five thousand years after the wars started, the scientists of Krypton discovered a way to combine genetic materials in the laboratory so that instead of two peoples, the two species, over a period of several years, became one. By the time all Kryptonians born were hybrids of these two species, peace reigned. The Kryptonians paid a heavy price for this peace; the hybridization process had rendered them all infertile."
In the back of his mind, Clark heard a click, like a shotgun being cocked, but he was too rapt in what Jor-El was saying to pay attention.
"Knowing that you were going to be the last of the Kryptonian people, and that the people of Earth don't have the technology to duplicate Kryptonian reproduction, your father manipulated your genetic structure so that you would reproduce parthenogenetically at fifty-year intervals. Not knowing when the socially-acceptable time for the beginning of your reproductive life would be, your father timed them to begin with your first sexual experience."
Jonathan clomped down into the storm cellar, and was transfixed by the sight in front of him. Clark was listening to some kind of hologram. Jonathan guessed that Clark was getting information on his history.
"The embryo will implant in your digestive tract for the first month, and then you will give birth. The embryo will travel to a pouch, where it will attach to a teat for the rest of its development, a period of about eight Earth months."
"De . . . define 'sexual experience."
Jonathan was startled to recognize the squeaking voice of the speaker as Lex. Anger bubbled up in him, but he squashed it down quickly, fearing that an outburst would end whatever spell had caused this genie to appear from Clark's ship.
Jor-El either didn't hear Lex's question or was programmed to disregard it.
"What do you mean by 'sexual experience'?" Clark asked.
"Your parents knew of the variety of forms sexual contact take on Earth, so they broadly defined a sexual experience as being brought to orgasm by a mate. Forms of self-pleasuring would not activate the process."
This was a lot to digest. "I guess I'll let you go. If I have more questions, how do I reach you?"
"There is an ovoid button in the roof of your pod. Depressing it will generate this recording again." And with this, Jor-El's image blinked out.
Clark blinked as if coming out of a trance. He looked back at Lex, then caught sight of Jonathan. "Dad! How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough. Were you planning to tell your mother and me about," he looked distastefully at Lex, "this?"
"Are the three of you going to stand around down there all morning," Martha's voice interrupted them, "or would you like to come up to the kitchen and we can have breakfast and discuss this like civilized humans?"
The three men looked up to find Martha sitting on the ground outside the storm cellar.
"We'll be upstairs in a moment." Jonathan responded.
***
Martha bustled around the kitchen, cooking eggs and making coffee and the three men sat at the table.
"Looks like Lex has forgiven you," Martha said to her son.
Clark looked at Lex and blushed. Lex moved closer to Clark and took his hand in his.
Jonathan sighed, clearly trying to rein in his temper. "And when were the two of you planning to let the rest of us in on . . . this?"
Clark and Lex bristled at Jonathan's comment.
"Now, Jonathan, we know now, so there's no harm done." Martha said placatingly as she put plates of toast and eggs in front of each man, then one more plate at her own empty spot.
"What I want to know," Martha said with deceptive calmness as she sat down, "is how you're going to start college in the fall if you're going to be pregnant through," she stopped to count, "December."
"Technically, Mrs. Kent," Lex began, "Clark isn't pregnant anymore. The recording said that the migration to his pouch was part of the birth process, and that happened yesterday. As for Clark starting school in the fall . . ."
"I won't. I'll take a deferral," Clark interrupted. "I'll start in the spring, after the baby's come out of the pouch."
"I don't think they'll let you keep a baby in the dorms." This was said skeptically, by Jonathan.
Clark shrugged, "I'll get an apartment and see if I can get classified as a commuter student. Of course, then I'll have to work to pay for it, but they have a daycare service on campus, and I'll put the baby in daycare while I go to classes and work."
"No you won't." Lex interrupted. "You'll be hiring a nanny to take care of him."
"There's no way I can afford that!"
"*You* don't have to. I sort of . . . caused this baby, so he's mine, too. *I* will pay for a nanny. A nice, reliable one who knows not to ask questions when little Kal Jr. starts bending steel bars in his bare hands. And," he added with a hopeful smile, "*we* will get an apartment. Together."
"You'd move to Metropolis? For me?"
Lex nodded. "I'd hoped that once your freshman year was over, we might do that anyhow. This just moves it up a few months."
Clark looked at Lex, stunned. "You did?"
Lex nodded. "Of course. You didn't think that you were just a fuck, did you?"
"Lex!" Martha interrupted them. "Watch your language, please."
This time, Lex actually blushed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kent. I got a little carried away."
"That's all right. Just don't do it again."
Clark grinned from his mother to Lex and back. Martha was treating Lex like one of the family, and it warmed Clark's heart.
Jonathan had also noticed, and he wasn't as pleased as Clark was. "I have work to do." Then he stood and walked outside, the screen door slamming shut behind him.
With an apologetic look at Martha and a quick kiss on Lex's bald pate, Clark followed his father.
Seconds ticked by as Lex looked at Martha.
"Would you like some more eggs, Lex?"
"No, thank you, Mrs. Kent."
"Please, call me Martha. You're family now, after all."
***
"Dad!" Clark followed his father doggedly, knowing that it wouldn't earn him any points with Jonathan if he were to use superspeed to catch up to him.
Jonathan kept walking, seeming not to have heard his son calling out to him.
"Dad! Wait up!"
Jonathan stopped to close and lock the storm cellar door, which allowed Clark to catch up to him, but his father resolutely failed to meet his eyes.
Finally, Jonathan stood. Still not looking at Clark, he said, "Why?"
"Why?" Asking for clarification.
"Why Lex Luthor?"
"I love him."
Jonathan sighed, peevishly.
"And he loves me."
"Luthors don't know how to love, son."
"You'd better hope they do. Because your grandson will be one of them."
"I know that Lex is very generous with his money . . ."
"He's very generous with everything, Dad. Or haven't you been paying attention? Lex doesn't give interviews, yet he's let Chloe interview him twice. He's participated in blood drives, in search-and-rescue missions. . . . "
"All to lull you into a false sense of security."
Clark would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. "Or maybe it was to show me that he really isn't the person that you and Lionel Luthor would believe him to be. Do you know what we had for dinner tonight?"
"Enlighten me."
"Roast chicken with green beans and mashed potatoes. In one of the dining rooms at the castle." When Jonathan didn't respond, he continued, "Kari's teaching him to cook."
"She's teaching him to cook?" Jonathan's tone indicated that he didn't believe it.
"Yes. So, you see, it's not all dinner in five-star restaurants to dazzle my poor little hick brain." Bitterness dominated his tone.
"I didn't mean . . . ."
"Yes, you did. But that's all right, because Lex doesn't see me as some dumb hick he can con. He sees me as a friend." A lover, he added silently.
"But the things he does to impress you. It just seems fishy to me."
"Didn't you ever do anything to impress Mom?"
"But that's different she's . . ."
"Female?"
"And she was of age."
"Dad, I was of age before Lex and I did anything."
"You can't tell me that he didn't have his eye on you long before you were 18."
"Well, for one thing, the legal age of consent in Kansas is 16," Clark said. At Jonathan's shocked expression, he explained, "Chloe did a paper last year on teen pregnancy. I helped her with the research."
Then he continued. "But that doesn't matter, because nothing happened between us until last month. Yes, I was attracted to him, and he was attracted to me, but it wasn't until, well, until we realized how close I am to going away to school, that we decided to take that chance before it was taken away from us."
"And now, because of him, you aren't going to college at all."
"Even if it was Lex's fault, which it isn't, it's one semester. Lots of people start college late. It doesn't make the degree any less valid."
Jonathan thought about this. "So you're going through with this, huh?"
"Yes."
"So, where is this grandchild of mine?"
Clark brushed his fingers along the bulge formed by the baby. "And I'm pretty sure it's a boy."
"Mother's intuition?"
Clark snorted. "Hardly. According to what Jor-El said, it was parthenogenesis, so I guess that means it's my clone."
"And so therefore it'd be a boy. I suppose Jor-El would have approved of Lex Luthor."
Clark smiled crookedly. "Maybe. But that's doesn't matter, 'cause he's not my dad. You are."
***
Epilogue -- 2009
Clark Kent graduated from college, magna cum laude, as if he'd never missed that semester. He had to pick up an extra class here and there to make up the semester he'd lost, but it had been well worth it.
In attendance were Jonathan and Martha Kent, Lex Luthor, and Carl Kent, named for Carl Sagan, who, as it turned out, was a childhood hero of both Lex and Clark.
After the commencement ceremony concluded, Clark hurried out to meet his loved ones in the lobby. Even after four years, every time he saw Carl, it took his breath away. Carl looked just like Clark had looked when he first landed, and he could see the memories in his parents' eyes, too.
Clark hoisted Carl into his arms, then shifted him over to the right, so that he could slip his left arm around Lex's waist.
"The three of you look so beautiful there." Martha gushed. "Don't they, Jonathan? Let me get a picture."
While Lex, Clark and Carl smiled for the camera, he saw what looked like tears in Jonathan's eyes. "Yep. They sure do." He smiled softly.
"Did you mention it to them?" Clark asked Lex.
"Of course not. It's your news."
"What?" Martha asked.
"Well, it's kind of last minute, but it took a while to get the grant I wanted. Lex, Carl and I are moving to California."
Martha's jaw dropped. "California?"
"What's in California that you can't get here in Kansas?" Jonathan demanded angrily. Clark could see that this anger hid Jonathan's sadness.
"Grad school. One of the most prestigious astronomy schools in the country wants Clark." Lex said proudly.
"But California's so far away." Martha complained.
"Don't worry. We're getting a nice big place that'll have a guest room so that you and Dad can come visit whenever you like." Clark reassured her.
"California's awfully expensive." Jonathan said.
"Well, what's the point of having access to all of the Luthor money if we can't make use of it?" Lex winked at his de facto father-in-law.
Clark passed Carl over to Lex and took off his gown, putting the mortarboard with its golden yellow tassel on Carl's head.
"So how's the freelance writing going?" Lex asked Jonathan as Carl's hands came up to play with the hat he'd just been given.
"Fine. In fact, I just sold an article to Organic Times, and they're interested in a follow-up. Do you think you could get me an introduction to someone at WayneAg?"
Lex's response was lost as Clark and Martha fell behind the three most important men in their lives.
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"That house? In California?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Dad, since nothing's definite, but it's going to have four bedrooms."
Martha looked from Clark, to Lex, to Jonathan, to Carl, then back to Clark. He could see the wheels turning in her head.
"You're not . . ." She looked at his abdomen.
"Oh, no. Definitely not. Seems like Jor-El was right. I'll probably get pregnant on my own again in 2055 or so."
"So when you say that nothing's definite, you mean that there's no new baby on the way?"
"Yet. We're debating our options. The only thing we know for sure is that since we're doing this parenting thing anyhow, we might as well go for it -- give Carl a little brother or sister."
Martha and Clark walked together in silence for a few minutes, watching from a distance as Lex held forth on some subject or other.
Clark grinned. "I think I'd probably better go rescue Dad from Lex."
Clark sped up, and Martha smiled with delight as he joined his lover and their son.
Author: PepperjackCandy
Series: No
Archive : LexSlash, CLexslash, my writing at fanfiction.net
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Category: Drama/Romance/Science Fiction
Spoilers for: Nothing
This was written for the 80s Smallville Fic Challenge (http://www.sjlee.org/smallville/ficchallenge.html)
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics.
Feedback: Always welcome, either by e-mail or using the review system at fanfiction.net.
Warning: Mpreg (well? What did you expect from a Clex fic called "Papa Don't Preach"?)
A/N: The reproductive cycle here is shamelessly stolen from the reproductive cycle of the kangaroo. Sort of. You'll see what I mean. Anyway, I'm deliberately skipping over the special effects. If you want to see how it works, go here: http://home.mira.net/~areadman/birth.htm
=====
2005
"Hey." Chloe dropped into the seat across from Clark in the Talon. "You look good this morning."
"Do I?"
"Yep." She nodded, cocking her head to one side. "Really good. There's something about you. A glow."
"Glow?" Clark repeated dumbly, trying to resist the urge to touch the small bulge just above his pelvic bone.
"Well, now you don't look so good. You've gone all . . . pasty."
"It's nothing. I just have to go to the bathroom."
"Again?"
"Yep. You know how I am. Going to the bathroom all the time." This was a lie. He had a period when he had to urinate constantly, but it seemed that phase had passed.
Clark had reached the employees' bathroom and, after locking the door, untucked his shirt. There, the faintest line ran crosswise across his body, just below his navel. I always thought I was a male primate. Turns out I'm a female marsupial. Who knew?
He longed to peel back the flap of skin and see the little red embryo that had pulled itself up his body hair and down into his pouch that morning, but he didn't know if he'd hurt it by doing that, so he resisted.
Instead, he ran his fingers lightly, reverently, along the small lump that was . . . My baby. Lex's and my baby.
***
After he and Chloe finished their meeting, Clark went to Lex's house to work on his English term paper on a PowerBook that Lex had recently purchased. When he'd shown Clark where he kept it, he'd insisted adamantly that it was *not* a gift, that he'd bought it for his own use. Yet Clark noticed that Lex never touched it. It was always in the desk drawer where Clark stashed it after each work session.
He opened the drawer to find a hand-penned note on the blue paper Lex kept for his notes to Clark, I'll be here to get you for dinner.
Warm waves of affection flowed through Clark at Lex's handwriting. That's your Daddy, he thought, caressing the tiny bulge in his abdomen. Or am I your Daddy? Hm. We'll work it out later.
Clark cherished that warmth as he carried the notebook computer over to the sofa. He thought about putting it on his lap, but he didn't want to squash the baby. The baby. What will Lex say when I tell him?
The warmth was suddenly gone, replaced by the cold, fight-or-flight sensation that he'd been avoiding ever since he'd helped the little one climb up and into his pouch. He quickly squashed that feeling down and set in to work on his English paper.
Clark wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the next time he looked up, it was nearly dark, and Lex was standing in the doorway of the study.
"You ready for dinner?" He asked.
"What time's it?"
"6:00. Let's get a move on, Farmboy."
Clark nearly melted in the warmth of love and adoration from Lex's eyes. "Just a second." He shut the computer down and stood. "How do I have to dress for this?"
"What you're wearing will be fine."
Clark followed Lex out into the corridor, but instead of heading for the foyer, Lex turned, taking Clark farther down the corridor.
At the end of the hallway, they went through a doorway, then down a flight of stairs.
"Lex?"
"Hmmm?"
"Are you taking me to the dungeon?"
"That depends. Is that the sort of thing you'd enjoy?"
"Maybe . . ." He said seductively. Get a grip, Kent. With the baby so close to the surface, those kind of games are out. You'd better not even hint about it. With great difficulty, Clark resisted the urge to touch the baby again.
They'd reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lex grinned lasciviously. "Well, we can save that for after dinner."
Clark felt himself becoming aroused by the desire in Lex's eyes, and this time, he *did* touch the baby, grounding himself, reminding himself that he didn't dare let Lex see him naked. Not until he told him the truth.
Lex didn't notice the brief movement of Clark's hand, for he was opening a door on the right-hand side of the hallway. He ushered Clark in.
What Clark saw there made him exclaim, "Lex!"
It was a stereotypical middle-class dining room, one that looked like it was stolen from the set of a family sitcom. An oval oak table sat in the middle of the room with six chairs clustered around it. A brass five-light lamp hung over the table. In the corner was a hutch in the same style and wood as the table and chairs. The walls were covered in a dusty rose wallpaper with a tiny white pattern.
Clark turned an inquiring gaze on Lex, who shrugged offhandedly. "You've lived my lifestyle for three years now – parties, five-star restaurants, all of that. Well, I thought that since I'm in this for the long haul, I should show you that I'm capable of living your lifestyle, too."
Clark felt his eyes misting over. "You're . . . in this for the long haul?"
Lex nodded. "I thought you knew that." He walked over to Clark, the intentness in his blue eyes pulling Clark's head down to his for a kiss.
No sooner had Clark settled into the kiss, then they were interrupted by a buzzer. "Damn. That's the rolls."
"The Rolls?" Clark had never heard Lex mention a Rolls Royce among his cars. Maybe it was new.
"The rolls. For dinner. You know, bread? I've got to go get them."
"Oh." Clark nodded. "You'd better get up there, then."
"Yeah." Lex nodded, then with difficulty turned away from Clark and left the room.
The giddy, happy feeling was back. Lex wants to be with me for the long haul. Forever. He grinned. Maybe everything will work out fine.
He was still on this high when Lex came back. He kissed Clark quickly and then walked to the wall next to the china hutch, where he opened a panel to reveal a dumbwaiter. "I know, I should have carried this down here by hand . . ." He proceeded to empty the dumbwaiter, carrying the dishes over to the table.
"Did I say anything?" Clark asked. "Can I help you?"
"No. I'm trying to show off, here, Clark." Lex reminded him with a grin.
"Sorry." Clark tried to sound affronted, but he couldn't help grinning back.
Lex proceeded to bring roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls, butter, and a pitcher of milk from the dumbwaiter.
The thought that even in showing that he could live in Clark's world, Lex couldn't resist a grand gesture occurred to Clark, and Clark smiled fondly.
"What?"
Clark's smile grew. "Nothing."
"Clark . . ."
"I was just thinking how much I love you."
It was the first time either of them had said the words. The room grew completely quiet, and Clark realized that a clock was the only thing missing from the room. The silence needed to be filled with the sound of ticking.
Lex smiled softly. "I love you, too." Lex's eyes misted over and he walked to sit on Clark's lap.
Clark was pretty sure the baby was safe, but didn't want to risk Lex squashing it, so as Lex's head came down for a long kiss, he unobtrusively shifted Lex slightly away from the bulge.
Lex pulled the collar of Clark's shirt away from his neck, licking and nuzzling his way from ear to shoulder. "You know what?" Lex asked.
"What?"
"I have a microwave in the kitchen."
"And?"
"And we could go upstairs, and then reheat the food once we're ready for it."
It took Clark a moment for his brain to work out the implications of this. Going upstairs to make love would involve nudity and touching, and Clark couldn't afford to have Lex find the baby before he was able to prepare him for the news. "No." He kissed Lex again.
"You want to do it here on the table?" Lex asked hopefully.
"Actually, I'm just *really* hungry."
"Clark?" Lex asked in a warning tone. It was clear that Lex saw right through that lie.
Clark sighed. "All right. We have . . . things to talk about. We can make love afterwards."
Lex sat back, still on Clark's lap. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah." Clark responded unconvincingly. "It's just, you know, stuff."
Lex nodded. "Tell you what. Let's have dinner first, then we can talk, *then* we can make love."
Clark grinned blindingly at him. "Sounds like a plan."
"Strangely, the most challenging part of this meal was the mashed potatoes. I was pretty sure I had to peel them, but I didn't know that there was a special tool for it. Kari came in while I was chopping big chunks from one of the potatoes with a paring knife. My cook's one patient lady."
They continued to eat, sharing war stories about learning to cook, until finally, all of the food had been eaten.
"Dessert first, or confession?" Clark asked.
"It's your confession."
Clark nodded. "Let's go up to the study, then."
They sat together on the sofa where Clark had been doing his homework earlier and sat close together. Lex, sensing Clark's nervousness, took his lover's hand.
Clark decided to jump right into the first issue at hand. "I know that you think I'm a meteor mutant, but I'm, well, I'm not."
Lex tightened his grip on Clark's hand comfortingly, then nodded for him to continue.
Clark took a huge breath, then said, "I'm pretty sure that I'm not even human. My parents found me the day of the meteor storm, and near me there was a pod of some sort, like a ship, but small. It's in my parents' storm cellar now. I've always been stronger and faster than other kids, and gradually I started to get other things, gifts, like x-ray vision, and now I'm not even sure I'm the male of my species because I'm pregnant."
There was a long, heart stopping moment before Lex responded. Finally, he turned slightly towards Clark and reached up with his free hand, carding his fingers through Clark's hair then drawing his fingertips along Clark's jaw line. "We'll get through this." He said, reassuringly, then, "Why do you think that you're pregnant?"
"Because," Clark pleaded silently for Lex to believe him, "I saw it. Today."
"Is this an x-ray vision thing?"
"Not really. It sort of . . . crawled up my leg and into my pouch." Clark tried not to wince at how lame that sounded.
"You have a pouch?"
Clark nodded. "Like a kangaroo. See?"
He untucked his shirt and unbuttoned the button on his jeans, then ran his fingertip under the edge of the pouch.
Lex's jaw dropped in wonder. "May I?"
"Sure."
Soon, Lex's fingertip disappeared into the pouch. "You have a pouch. May I see the baby?"
"I'm not sure it's safe. It's sort of small. . . "
"Well, it would be, wouldn't it?"
"Here. You can feel it right here." Clark guided Lex's hand down to the bulge.
Lex touched it, then drew his hand back like he'd been burned, and Clark could see Lex withdrawing. "Who's the father?"
"What? You are!"
"There's no way I could be the father of . . . *that*!"
Clark recoiled as if he'd been slapped.
Lex hurriedly tried to do damage control. "No, Clark. I didn't mean it that way. What I meant is that I don't have much experience with kids, but I do know that an embryo's an embryo. And at two weeks, at most, after conception, an embryo's smaller than that."
"I don't know anything about that. I just know that you're the only lover I've ever had. You have to be the father."
All of Clark's lies and omissions through their years of friendship bore bitter fruit; Lex didn't believe him. "I won't be angry, Clark. It wouldn't be the first time a Luthor laid claim to another man's get, but I have to know who I'm covering for. If it's Pete . . . "
"It's not Pete!"
Lex repeated himself as if Clark hadn't interrupted. "If it's Pete, it'll be a little harder to spin; I thought we'd have the birth certificate name you as father and we'd invent a mother. So far as I know, you don't even know any black women, so that might pose some problems, but we'll manage."
This last comment went right over Clark's head. "It's not Pete. It's not anyone. It's you."
Lex completely shut down then. "Fine."
"Lex, please . . ."
In a warning tone, "Clark."
Clark looked into Lex's eyes, saw the intractability there. Sadly, slowly, he stood. "It *is* yours, Lex."
When Lex didn't respond, Clark went home.
***
Clark super-speeded home – he had nothing to hide from Lex, not anymore – and headed up to his bedroom.
Overwhelmed by his depression, Clark threw himself onto his bed. And promptly realized he'd left his book bag at Lex's. "Shit."
"Clark! Watch your language!"
He'd left his bedroom door open. "Oops. Sorry, Mom."
She came in and sat down on the bed beside Clark, running her fingers through his hair in a maternal gesture. "Now, what was so awful that you needed to swear?"
"I left my books over at Lex's."
"Oh, and I can see how that would be the end of the world. You can get them tomorrow."
Clark sighed despondently.
"What was that for?"
"We had a . . . disagreement."
"Well, things have come between you before. Remember when your father was hospitalized from his exposure to the Nicodemus flower?"
Clark goggled at her, and she smiled. "Don't think I don't notice when you and Lex aren't getting along, Clark. You mope around like you've lost, well, your best friend. And you always make up."
"It's not going to happen, Mom. This is it. He's never going to forgive me."
"I doubt it. The two of you always manage to find your way back to each other."
Clark had the feeling that Martha knew that he and Lex were lovers, but he was afraid to ask. He smiled weakly. "Yeah. Maybe you're right. I think I'm going to get some sleep."
"Everything will look better in the morning, honey." She kissed him on the top of his head and went to the door. "Would you like me to turn out the light?"
"Yeah. Thanks Mom. Night."
Martha turned out the light. "Good night, sweetie."
She closed the door, and Clark turned over onto his side and went to sleep, one hand resting on the bulge in his abdomen.
***
Lex wasn't sure what he was doing out at . . . there were some numbers on the dashboard – 35. That didn't make any sense. 35 wasn't a time.
Wait. Other numbers over there. 330. 330? The scenery outside wasn't going fast enough for that.
No, 330 was the time. 3:30.
Lex wasn't sure what he was doing out at 3:30. In the morning, evidently, since it usually wasn't this dark at 3:30 in the afternoon.
What was he doing again? Oh, right. He'd been drinking. Sleep had eluded him. So had entertainment, his television and video game console just boring him. So he'd had a drink. And another. And another.
Eventually he'd made a decision that led him out here, wherever here was, at 3:30 in the morning.
He recognized this street. He drove it nearly every day, going to . . . Clark's house.
Oh, Christ. He couldn't go to Clark's house. His parents would wake up when they heard the car engine.
That was easily solved though. Lex left his car across the street half a block away and walked the rest of the way, if it could be called walking. The cadence was more of stumble, shuffle, lurch. But it got him where he was going.
He thought he was where he was headed, at least. Yeah. The Kents's storm cellar. Then he just had to pick the lock, a simple proposition when he was sober, but somewhat complicated by the scotch in his system.
Lock picking was done by feel, so at least the darkness wasn't a hindrance to his attempt. Eventually, the padlock popped open with a soft click, and Lex opened it, removed it, and set it aside.
Carefully, he lifted the latch, opening the lock as quietly as he could. He lifted first the right half of the door, then the left, hoping it was quiet enough that it wouldn't wake the Kents. He was just glad they didn't have a dog.
Lex stared down into the open maw of the storm cellar. The full moon overhead cast enough light that Lex could see the ladder descending from the doorway. Or was it supposed to be stairs? Really . . . steep stairs.
Lex knew that there was no way he could navigate those stairs in his current inebriated state, so, with a vague prayer to assorted powers he wasn't sure he really believed in, he jumped.
***
Clark sat up, his heart pounding. The sound of someone landing on dirt, like they'd just jumped from the Fortress of Solitude, woke him up. No one should be out there at this time of night. Morning. He corrected himself when he saw that his bedside clock said 4:15.
He didn't want to wake his parents up, so he super-speeded down the stairs and out the door.
It only took a moment to survey the yard for the source of the noise, and terror slammed through him at the sight of the open storm cellar door. Who's in there, and what are they doing to do with what they've found?
***
Lex landed a little harder than he'd intended, but the alcohol in his system cushioned him from the pain in his ankle. He wished he'd brought a flashlight, but the light of the moon streamed down into the cellar, allowing him to catch the glint of metal from the far corner.
It was a matter of seconds to cross to the pod, for the pod is what it was. With difficulty, he pushed it across the floor into the shaft of light.
Now, if I were going to send my child across the galaxy, where would I put any kind of owners' manual, anatomy instruction . . .
Lex quickly disregarded the exterior of the craft, except for trying to figure out how to get it open. Finally, he found the catch and it popped open on a clamshell hinge.
Looking into the craft, Lex figured that Clark must have traveled to Earth in some sort of suspended animation. There was no seat or anything like that, just a soft surface with a slight body-shaped indentation about three feet long.
Easily slipping into a Zen-like state, Lex ran his hands lightly over the interior of the craft, waiting for instinct to tell him what he was looking for.
Finally, he found it -- a place where the there was a vague, egg-shaped bump in the ceiling just above where Clark's head would have been if he'd been reclining in the bottom of the pod.
He pressed in, and was immediately thrown backwards by a deafening blast of sound.
***
Clark heard the alarm go off, and ran down into the storm cellar at superspeed.
The alarm stopped the moment Clark's feet touched the ground of the cellar. A beam of light shot out of the front of the pod, coalescing into the form of a man wearing some kind of one-piece suit.
"Kal-El, I am a graphic representation of your father, Jor-El. I have been sent with you to answer any questions you have about your home planet, your ancestry, or your physiology. Ask, and I will answer."
It was then that Clark noticed Lex standing about ten feet away from the pod, a stunned expression on his face, as he looked at Jor-El's image. He looked over at Clark, still with the same deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Clark crossed to him and asked, quietly, "What are you doing here?"
"Huh?" Lex asked with the air of someone who hadn't heard the question.
Clark sighed. He couldn't raise his voice without getting an answer from Jor-El, so instead, figuring that he could ask questions of Lex later, he turned to Jor-El. "I'm apparently pregnant. How did this come about?"
"You are the last of the Kryptonian people, Kal-El.
"Two different intelligent life forms, similar in body type, developed on Krypton. For millennia, the two species warred with one another. Many times, alliance marriages were attempted to bring the fighting to a halt, but as they were different species, they were not able to create offspring, and the truce inevitably ended at the end of the lives of the couple.
"Finally, five thousand years after the wars started, the scientists of Krypton discovered a way to combine genetic materials in the laboratory so that instead of two peoples, the two species, over a period of several years, became one. By the time all Kryptonians born were hybrids of these two species, peace reigned. The Kryptonians paid a heavy price for this peace; the hybridization process had rendered them all infertile."
In the back of his mind, Clark heard a click, like a shotgun being cocked, but he was too rapt in what Jor-El was saying to pay attention.
"Knowing that you were going to be the last of the Kryptonian people, and that the people of Earth don't have the technology to duplicate Kryptonian reproduction, your father manipulated your genetic structure so that you would reproduce parthenogenetically at fifty-year intervals. Not knowing when the socially-acceptable time for the beginning of your reproductive life would be, your father timed them to begin with your first sexual experience."
Jonathan clomped down into the storm cellar, and was transfixed by the sight in front of him. Clark was listening to some kind of hologram. Jonathan guessed that Clark was getting information on his history.
"The embryo will implant in your digestive tract for the first month, and then you will give birth. The embryo will travel to a pouch, where it will attach to a teat for the rest of its development, a period of about eight Earth months."
"De . . . define 'sexual experience."
Jonathan was startled to recognize the squeaking voice of the speaker as Lex. Anger bubbled up in him, but he squashed it down quickly, fearing that an outburst would end whatever spell had caused this genie to appear from Clark's ship.
Jor-El either didn't hear Lex's question or was programmed to disregard it.
"What do you mean by 'sexual experience'?" Clark asked.
"Your parents knew of the variety of forms sexual contact take on Earth, so they broadly defined a sexual experience as being brought to orgasm by a mate. Forms of self-pleasuring would not activate the process."
This was a lot to digest. "I guess I'll let you go. If I have more questions, how do I reach you?"
"There is an ovoid button in the roof of your pod. Depressing it will generate this recording again." And with this, Jor-El's image blinked out.
Clark blinked as if coming out of a trance. He looked back at Lex, then caught sight of Jonathan. "Dad! How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough. Were you planning to tell your mother and me about," he looked distastefully at Lex, "this?"
"Are the three of you going to stand around down there all morning," Martha's voice interrupted them, "or would you like to come up to the kitchen and we can have breakfast and discuss this like civilized humans?"
The three men looked up to find Martha sitting on the ground outside the storm cellar.
"We'll be upstairs in a moment." Jonathan responded.
***
Martha bustled around the kitchen, cooking eggs and making coffee and the three men sat at the table.
"Looks like Lex has forgiven you," Martha said to her son.
Clark looked at Lex and blushed. Lex moved closer to Clark and took his hand in his.
Jonathan sighed, clearly trying to rein in his temper. "And when were the two of you planning to let the rest of us in on . . . this?"
Clark and Lex bristled at Jonathan's comment.
"Now, Jonathan, we know now, so there's no harm done." Martha said placatingly as she put plates of toast and eggs in front of each man, then one more plate at her own empty spot.
"What I want to know," Martha said with deceptive calmness as she sat down, "is how you're going to start college in the fall if you're going to be pregnant through," she stopped to count, "December."
"Technically, Mrs. Kent," Lex began, "Clark isn't pregnant anymore. The recording said that the migration to his pouch was part of the birth process, and that happened yesterday. As for Clark starting school in the fall . . ."
"I won't. I'll take a deferral," Clark interrupted. "I'll start in the spring, after the baby's come out of the pouch."
"I don't think they'll let you keep a baby in the dorms." This was said skeptically, by Jonathan.
Clark shrugged, "I'll get an apartment and see if I can get classified as a commuter student. Of course, then I'll have to work to pay for it, but they have a daycare service on campus, and I'll put the baby in daycare while I go to classes and work."
"No you won't." Lex interrupted. "You'll be hiring a nanny to take care of him."
"There's no way I can afford that!"
"*You* don't have to. I sort of . . . caused this baby, so he's mine, too. *I* will pay for a nanny. A nice, reliable one who knows not to ask questions when little Kal Jr. starts bending steel bars in his bare hands. And," he added with a hopeful smile, "*we* will get an apartment. Together."
"You'd move to Metropolis? For me?"
Lex nodded. "I'd hoped that once your freshman year was over, we might do that anyhow. This just moves it up a few months."
Clark looked at Lex, stunned. "You did?"
Lex nodded. "Of course. You didn't think that you were just a fuck, did you?"
"Lex!" Martha interrupted them. "Watch your language, please."
This time, Lex actually blushed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kent. I got a little carried away."
"That's all right. Just don't do it again."
Clark grinned from his mother to Lex and back. Martha was treating Lex like one of the family, and it warmed Clark's heart.
Jonathan had also noticed, and he wasn't as pleased as Clark was. "I have work to do." Then he stood and walked outside, the screen door slamming shut behind him.
With an apologetic look at Martha and a quick kiss on Lex's bald pate, Clark followed his father.
Seconds ticked by as Lex looked at Martha.
"Would you like some more eggs, Lex?"
"No, thank you, Mrs. Kent."
"Please, call me Martha. You're family now, after all."
***
"Dad!" Clark followed his father doggedly, knowing that it wouldn't earn him any points with Jonathan if he were to use superspeed to catch up to him.
Jonathan kept walking, seeming not to have heard his son calling out to him.
"Dad! Wait up!"
Jonathan stopped to close and lock the storm cellar door, which allowed Clark to catch up to him, but his father resolutely failed to meet his eyes.
Finally, Jonathan stood. Still not looking at Clark, he said, "Why?"
"Why?" Asking for clarification.
"Why Lex Luthor?"
"I love him."
Jonathan sighed, peevishly.
"And he loves me."
"Luthors don't know how to love, son."
"You'd better hope they do. Because your grandson will be one of them."
"I know that Lex is very generous with his money . . ."
"He's very generous with everything, Dad. Or haven't you been paying attention? Lex doesn't give interviews, yet he's let Chloe interview him twice. He's participated in blood drives, in search-and-rescue missions. . . . "
"All to lull you into a false sense of security."
Clark would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. "Or maybe it was to show me that he really isn't the person that you and Lionel Luthor would believe him to be. Do you know what we had for dinner tonight?"
"Enlighten me."
"Roast chicken with green beans and mashed potatoes. In one of the dining rooms at the castle." When Jonathan didn't respond, he continued, "Kari's teaching him to cook."
"She's teaching him to cook?" Jonathan's tone indicated that he didn't believe it.
"Yes. So, you see, it's not all dinner in five-star restaurants to dazzle my poor little hick brain." Bitterness dominated his tone.
"I didn't mean . . . ."
"Yes, you did. But that's all right, because Lex doesn't see me as some dumb hick he can con. He sees me as a friend." A lover, he added silently.
"But the things he does to impress you. It just seems fishy to me."
"Didn't you ever do anything to impress Mom?"
"But that's different she's . . ."
"Female?"
"And she was of age."
"Dad, I was of age before Lex and I did anything."
"You can't tell me that he didn't have his eye on you long before you were 18."
"Well, for one thing, the legal age of consent in Kansas is 16," Clark said. At Jonathan's shocked expression, he explained, "Chloe did a paper last year on teen pregnancy. I helped her with the research."
Then he continued. "But that doesn't matter, because nothing happened between us until last month. Yes, I was attracted to him, and he was attracted to me, but it wasn't until, well, until we realized how close I am to going away to school, that we decided to take that chance before it was taken away from us."
"And now, because of him, you aren't going to college at all."
"Even if it was Lex's fault, which it isn't, it's one semester. Lots of people start college late. It doesn't make the degree any less valid."
Jonathan thought about this. "So you're going through with this, huh?"
"Yes."
"So, where is this grandchild of mine?"
Clark brushed his fingers along the bulge formed by the baby. "And I'm pretty sure it's a boy."
"Mother's intuition?"
Clark snorted. "Hardly. According to what Jor-El said, it was parthenogenesis, so I guess that means it's my clone."
"And so therefore it'd be a boy. I suppose Jor-El would have approved of Lex Luthor."
Clark smiled crookedly. "Maybe. But that's doesn't matter, 'cause he's not my dad. You are."
***
Epilogue -- 2009
Clark Kent graduated from college, magna cum laude, as if he'd never missed that semester. He had to pick up an extra class here and there to make up the semester he'd lost, but it had been well worth it.
In attendance were Jonathan and Martha Kent, Lex Luthor, and Carl Kent, named for Carl Sagan, who, as it turned out, was a childhood hero of both Lex and Clark.
After the commencement ceremony concluded, Clark hurried out to meet his loved ones in the lobby. Even after four years, every time he saw Carl, it took his breath away. Carl looked just like Clark had looked when he first landed, and he could see the memories in his parents' eyes, too.
Clark hoisted Carl into his arms, then shifted him over to the right, so that he could slip his left arm around Lex's waist.
"The three of you look so beautiful there." Martha gushed. "Don't they, Jonathan? Let me get a picture."
While Lex, Clark and Carl smiled for the camera, he saw what looked like tears in Jonathan's eyes. "Yep. They sure do." He smiled softly.
"Did you mention it to them?" Clark asked Lex.
"Of course not. It's your news."
"What?" Martha asked.
"Well, it's kind of last minute, but it took a while to get the grant I wanted. Lex, Carl and I are moving to California."
Martha's jaw dropped. "California?"
"What's in California that you can't get here in Kansas?" Jonathan demanded angrily. Clark could see that this anger hid Jonathan's sadness.
"Grad school. One of the most prestigious astronomy schools in the country wants Clark." Lex said proudly.
"But California's so far away." Martha complained.
"Don't worry. We're getting a nice big place that'll have a guest room so that you and Dad can come visit whenever you like." Clark reassured her.
"California's awfully expensive." Jonathan said.
"Well, what's the point of having access to all of the Luthor money if we can't make use of it?" Lex winked at his de facto father-in-law.
Clark passed Carl over to Lex and took off his gown, putting the mortarboard with its golden yellow tassel on Carl's head.
"So how's the freelance writing going?" Lex asked Jonathan as Carl's hands came up to play with the hat he'd just been given.
"Fine. In fact, I just sold an article to Organic Times, and they're interested in a follow-up. Do you think you could get me an introduction to someone at WayneAg?"
Lex's response was lost as Clark and Martha fell behind the three most important men in their lives.
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"That house? In California?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Dad, since nothing's definite, but it's going to have four bedrooms."
Martha looked from Clark, to Lex, to Jonathan, to Carl, then back to Clark. He could see the wheels turning in her head.
"You're not . . ." She looked at his abdomen.
"Oh, no. Definitely not. Seems like Jor-El was right. I'll probably get pregnant on my own again in 2055 or so."
"So when you say that nothing's definite, you mean that there's no new baby on the way?"
"Yet. We're debating our options. The only thing we know for sure is that since we're doing this parenting thing anyhow, we might as well go for it -- give Carl a little brother or sister."
Martha and Clark walked together in silence for a few minutes, watching from a distance as Lex held forth on some subject or other.
Clark grinned. "I think I'd probably better go rescue Dad from Lex."
Clark sped up, and Martha smiled with delight as he joined his lover and their son.