Well, this is the last one. The final chapter of a monster that is now, by my Word, 701 pages. Phew!
I'd like to thank everyone who read it, and in particular those who left reviews. I would have written this without any reviews, but nothing is better than finding a couple of notes in your mailbox as proof that other people are reading it as well, and are enjoying it. Or hate it Sometimes, that's almost as stirring as a positive remark.
So anyway, thank you Jezzworth, ColleenJoy, Jen, em, Deb, ayana45, maria (if you're still here after the shock of the slash chapter), Aimee, Sherri, Katie, FallToPeices, Moe, M, (almost there now, I think, am I missing someone? Yeah:) gioia-gg and tatie, although I've already thanked you at NS Thanks for reviewing; I appreciate it!
Here's the last of it. Anyone else…I'm still a review whore. Liked it? Tell me! Hated it? Then you could have spent your time better if you made it all the way here :P
Thirty-six: In which Chloe gives Lex the means to say 'I love you'"And there goes the last one," Valerie said. She waved at a small girl Lex had never really spoken to as she was carried out of the room on her father's arm. The girl waved back enthusiastically. Lex remained as he was, with his back against the wall, out of sight. He'd said goodbye to those kids that mattered, there was no need to expose himself to the others.
"There's still Emmy and Michael."
"Yes, that's true. But in another month those two will be gone as well." Her mouth quirked. "I'll be out of a job."
"LuthorCorp holds more than seventeen hospitals, and a few scores of related institutions. There's always a place for you somewhere." Lex studied her profile as she kept staring out into the now empty room. "You know that. We'll have you everywhere."
"I know." She sighed. "I know, and I appreciate it. But maybe…Maybe it's time for me to move on as well. Or move back."
Lex's heart gave a painful little throb. "You're leaving?"
She turned to face him. "I don't know yet. Maybe. I heard you sent Dr. Potter to Igawi. Is that true?"
"Yes."
"He didn't seem the type to have a secret wish to go to Africa and spent his genius on mundane and boring diseases."
"I made him an offer he couldn't refuse." Lex managed to say this with only the tiniest smirk, and Valerie raised her eyebrows. "Why? Are you planning to back to Africa as well?"
She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I hadn't considered returning to Africa, but…Well, after hearing about Potter it did cross my mind." She opened the door to the hallway; Lex closed it behind him when she was through. "Unless," she said, "you need me here."
"Need you?" It came out rather heartless, and that wasn't his intention. "I mean, in what way?" Which sounded even more callous. He liked her, liked her a lot, in fact, and if the circumstances were different he might have done more than like her…but need her?
Her mouth widened. "Just as I said it; nothing more, nothing less. By your reaction I gather you don't."
Lex said nothing, unable to come up with something even remotely adequate. What did she want him to say? That he needed her? That he would crack without her? He wouldn't. Although she might be able to tell me why my body insists it needs to seek cover while my mind is pretty much ok with the fact that one of my male friends raped me. He knew he would never talk about that, though. Most certainly not with someone he'd shared his bed with.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally, and she laughed.
"Well, that's the one thing you shouldn't be sorry for. It's good to see you're doing well." She shot him a sideward glance. "How is the ever sprightly Miss Sullivan? She seemed a bit down when I met her last week."
If she thought that would drive him up the wall she was wrong. "Chloe? She's fine. Never better. You met her?" he asked. "I didn't know you knew her."
"We met at the hospital, remember," Valerie said with a twinkle. "And I spoke to her on the phone just before she delivered Amy. She's a remarkable young woman. I ran into her when I was doing my shopping."
"We're both fine," Lex said, wondering what the hell she knew and how much she was implying. Had Chloe talked to her? No. Probably not. Chloe was jealous of Valerie, she wouldn't have raged to her about the lies and horrors she'd discovered in his closets.
"Excellent!" Valerie said.
They entered the cafeteria, Lex bought the most expensive coffee he could find and then they sat down at a table in a corner. Not that there were many people who could overhear what they were talking about, but the need for privacy was so ingrained in his psyche he picked his tables by sheer instinct.
He stirred his coffee with absentminded movements. "Would you stay if I told you I needed you here?" he asked after the twelfth circle of his spoon.
"Of course I would."
"Why?"
She smiled her wide, close-lipped smile. "Because one does not often run into people like you," she said, and he was not at all sure that was a compliment.
"The Rich and Famous, you mean?" he sneered. "Or did you mean the Corrupt and Twisted?"
"Both, I guess," Valerie said tranquilly. "You are a very interesting person. I am glad I've had the chance to get to meet you."
Lex licked his scar. He'd had people tell him he was enigmatic, charismatic, intelligent, cool, charming and funny; in short, he'd had people suck up to him from any direction, but somehow Valerie's words didn't strike him so much as flattering than as an assessment. "You didn't really get to know me the way I usually am," he said, referring to his hellish period of normalness, and only realizing once the words were out that aforementioned normalness included what was possibly the most demeaning experience in his life.
The gleam of teeth appeared between the woman's lips. "Oh, I think I got to know you as well as anyone, red hair or not." The gleam became an ivory half moon before changing back into her ordinary broad, warm smile. "You," she stated, "are a very talented, compassionate and intelligent young man, but you tend to forget you're just that: a young man. So you're filthy rich. So you have half the industrial corporations under your command. So the press claims to know you better than you know yourself. So WHAT? I don't care about that. What I cared about was that you talked to the kids and told them that if other kids bullied them because of their baldness, they should blackmail them. THAT was priceless. Corrupt and Twisted, if you want to put it that way, yes, definitely. Highly unorthodox in any case. But original and apt and amazingly effective, and mostly very much YOU." She nodded to herself. "Chloe Sullivan is very lucky to have you, and you, in turn, should make sure to hang on to her. I like her," she added, as if that was enough reason for Lex to cling tight and hang on.
Lex raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think your opinions have that great an influence on my life?"
"Oh, none whatsoever," she consented immediately. "Apart from the fact that I have a soft spot for happy endings, a reasonably good understanding of how your brain works, and the fact that Chloe Sullivan told me quite a lot about why the two of you fell out."
Lex blinked. He felt as if the bottom of his stomach had just fallen through the floor.
She smiled sweetly. "Don't worry. My lips are sealed. I have no need of blackmail to get what I want."
"What DO you want?" Lex whispered, not knowing whether he should be scared shitless or laughing his head off. It only just occurred to him that the reason why he liked Valerie so much was because she was just as crazy as he was himself. A kindred soul. Stark raving mad.
"Me? Other people to be happy. That's my job, after all: to make sure children are happy despite their wretched situation."
"So," Lex said, amused, "you are going to blackmail me into maintaining my relationship with Chloe Sullivan because you believe it will make me happy?"
"Oh, no. I'm not going to blackmail you at all. Blackmail is so…unsophisticated. This is just my suggestion. Forced relationships rarely end up successful."
"Exactly what did Chloe tell you?"
"Enough to reveal the source of her problems with you, not enough to give me any hold on you." She leaned forward. "She's a sweet girl, and you really hurt her. Then again, I guess she returned the favor tenfold, so I will not bore you with senseless incriminations."
"I might not take kindly to that," Lex agreed dryly.
"No," Valerie said, smiling. "I thought you might not." She shrugged. "I just thought you should know that I know about the connection between your company's error and the reason for this building's foundation, not because you have anything to fear from me, but because me knowing should not be another secret between you and your little reporter. If, of course, she hasn't told you already. By your surprise, I guess she hasn't. Which is wrong, but not unexpected."
It wasn't a secret, Lex figured. Just another truth untold. One that could make him angry, but one which he decided was not worth the trouble. Like his…dealings…with Clark, it was one of those things that was simply very hard to mention. "What," he asked, because that might even be more interesting than his earlier question, "exactly did you tell Chloe?"
"What she needed to know."
"Which is?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"If I didn't want to know I wouldn't have asked."
Valerie regarded him silently for a few seconds. "No," she said finally. "if you want to know what I told her, ask her. I'm not going to disclose what I told someone in confidence."
"About me!"
"Precisely." She closed her mouth, pressing her lips firmly together.
Lex looked at her, baffled and irritated, then laughed and finished his coffee. "I'll ask her, then," he said, getting up. "In the meantime, I definitely need you here. So before you go anywhere, give me a call. Don't leave before you have my permission."
"Did I give you the impression I would do anything different?" Valerie asked, looking up with that slow lifting of lashes that was so much more impressive with mascara.
"No," said Lex. He leaned over to her, tipped up her chin and kissed her lips with his mouth closed. "You're my devoted servant, after all. Dedicated to my happiness. Aren't you?"
"Actually," Valerie said, trailing her fingers over his cheek before he pulled back, "I'm just an employee in your LuthorCare hospital. But if you want to see me as such, you are very welcome. Bye Lex."
"Goodbye, Valerie. Call me when you've made up your mind about what you want to do. Whatever it is, wherever it lies, let me know and I'll help you get there."
She nodded. "I'll know when Michael and Emmy are gone."
Lex had the distinct conviction that when Cradle Cancer disappeared from his life, so would Valerie Decan. The thought dispirited him a little, but at the same time it made him feel some kind of relief. She could read him far too well. "I'll come and see you when that time comes."
"I'll give you a call."
"Yes, do that," Lex said. He held out his hand and she took it. And while he would briefly visit the hospital tomorrow, he did not tell her. Even if she was his dedicated servant, she ruffled his confidence, and he was not eager to be ruffled that way more often than once a week.
While Lex was at LuthorCare, Chloe and Clark were taking a much-needed mug of coffee at the Starbuck's nearest to the Daily Planet office. It was way past lunch time or any other break time, but Chloe had worked so ridiculously hard for the past two days that she had decided that a luxurious coffee break was more than due, and Clark…Well, Clark was physically incapable of being late, so he had joined her. They hadn't had the chance to talk since the week before, and Chloe badly needed to share her experiences with someone with a similar new-found appreciation of her current squeeze. In other words: Clark. And Clark was nothing if not obliging.
"So," he said while he sipped his scalding coffee as if it were actually drinkable, "Did Lex like the Zoo?"
"Madly," Chloe said with a grin. She burrowed even deeper into the Starbuck's comfy-chair. "I had to drag him there by his collar and he went screaming and kicking, but hen we were there he could hardly contain his enthusiasm."
Clark snorted. "No, seriously."
"Seriously. Well, it wasn't as if he ran around shrieking with joy, but I do think he enjoyed it—more than he let on, in any case. He liked the sea otters. And I can't tell you how hilarious his imitation of the giant blow fish was."
Clark snorted his coffee through his nose. "Lex imitated a blow fish?"
"And incredibly accurately, too," Chloe said, with relish. "He has VERY flexible cheeks."
Clark wiped his nose with a napkin, giggling helplessly. "So...everything's ok between the two of you?"
She nodded, her grin softening to a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. I mean, you were right and you're right still: the man's an irrepressible liar, a manipulative schemer and fucked up beyond imagination...but..." She tried to think of a word to describe Lex in a way that wouldn't make Clark choke on his coffee again. Sweet. He WAS sweet. Adorable, if he wasn't paying attention. Attentive, considerate, obsessive and scarily charming. Not for one moment had she got the impression that she was no longer an independent woman,
but the naked truth was that Lex organized her schedule and she stuck to it without raising a single protest. He was...
"Irresistibly intelligent," Clark supplied. "That's how they describe him in People," he added defensively when Chloe stared at him. "I think it pins him down like a bug."
"Like a bug, huh? That suits your cockroach theory."
Clark laughed.
Irresistibly intelligent did express it very well, though, although it wasn't half of his charm. Part of her also wanted to cheer 'And oh, the sex! Wow! The sex!" but she doubted Clark would be happy to hear that. He and Lana did have intercourse, she was quite certain about that, but he simply didn't seem the type for dirty locker-talk—especially if the whispering voice from the next locker was a woman's, and glorified another man's family jewels.
Detailed descriptions of Lex's performances in bed was more girl-talk, she figured. Unfortunately she didn't have any friends to whom she could talk about that: Lois thought the idea of sleeping with Lex as repulsive as sleeping with a snail, Lana burst into giggles and blushed bright red whenever you said the words 'penis', 'cock' or 'orgasm', and her friends from the Planet…well, they'd LOVE to hear her talk, but Chloe had well-founded reservations about discussing her sex-life with her fellow reporters.
So she just nodded, agreed, "As cockroaches come, I do think he's pretty irresistibly intelligent, yeah,", leaned forward and asked, "So what happened between the two of you? Did you talk it out, whatever it was that made you hate him? Or is this still the aftermath of you agreeing to supply the cure for those kids of his?"
Clark shrugged, his face taking on that fake-careless expression it always got when he was, maybe not exactly lying, but at least keeping the truth at a far distance. "Something like that."
"Something entirely different, then," Chloe surmised. She was thrumming with curiosity. Lex was much better at lying than Clark, but he hadn't answered this question either, effortlessly evading her with semi-answers or distracting her with other topics. It wasn't that she didn't respect Clark and Lex's privacy. She did. If she didn't, Lex went ballistic and Clark started pretending he was stupid. It was their unwillingness to come up with either a straight answer or a convincing lie that kept worrying at her subconscious like a small but insistent terrier. In her opinion people that wanted you to stop questioning you about a particular topic either told you so straight to your face ('No, I don't want to answer your questions, no comment, get out of my face you fucking paparazzi pest!') or flipped you off with an inventive reply ('We were not, I repeat NOT, aware of the destructive properties of this particular piece of artillery. We are deeply sorry for the immeasurable damage this weaponry has caused.') They did not smile mysteriously, look awkward or smoothly talk over it.
However, that was exactly what both Lex and Clark were doing, and while she could control herself well enough to keep from poking them until they spilled, she WAS intrigued.
"Nope," said Clark. "That's about precisely it. But that's good. You two back together, I mean. Maybe you can stop him from, I don't know...contaminating the ocean or something."
"Why are you avoiding my question?"
Clark was incredibly good at looking innocent and surprised. "What question am I avoiding?"
She sighed. "Never mind. Yes, I'll try to keep him from accidentally blowing up the world. Don't know if I can manage, though."
"I couldn't," Clark said, softer and suddenly serious.
"Well, so far the earth still turns around the sun…"
"No. I mean…Can you keep up with him? Do you understand him? Because I never could. I mean, I KNOW he's cool. I idolized him when I was younger."
Well, yeah, duh, that's no big revelation, Chloe thought, but she kept quiet, because if Clark was willing to talk about Lex maybe he'd let something slip. Chloe knew Lois' opinion of Lex to the utmost details. All Clark ever said was 'he's no good', but very little else. She gave an encouraging nod. "He's mainly very funny. Lois didn't believe that."
Clark laughed. "Of course she wouldn't. She hates the ground he walks on. According to Lois, and I'm quoting her on this: 'If fairy princesses leave roses in their footsteps, Lex leaves scorched, barren ground.' She's quite a lost cause. Lex wouldn't bother being charming to someone he knows despises him."
"Unless he saw it as a challenge."
"That's right, the moment he gets the impression he needs Lois for some particular reason he'd turn on his Luthor Care Bear Stare and she'd be dazzled by his unholy radiance."
Chloe guffawed. "Now that is a picture I could do without!"
Clark grinned. "I wonder what his tummy symbol would be."
"A crown and a scepter," Chloe said immediately. "And a slanted L in the background."
"Luthor Bear."
"Well, I'd say it beats 'Clarkbar'."
Clark grimaced, then his mouth curved in fond memory. "I wonder how Pete's doing."
"Well, I guess. He should be in his last year." She sighed. "Another person who disliked Lex by name."
"Mmm," said Clark, with a frown that almost instantly faded and left him looking a little sad, and she knew he was thinking about his father. "The problem is that Lex, by now, has quite lived up to his name."
"He isn't like Lionel."
"No, but he's definitely a Luthor. Whatever that means," he added, undermining his own statement.
Chloe smiled. "Luthor," she started. "Defined mainly by the things they do NOT do. Luthors do not: Fail."
"Dance," Clark supplied. "Except ballroom dancing at horrid stuck-up parties."
"Show weakness. Take time to heal. Apologize. Blush—or feel embarrassed."
"Sleep. Give up. Back down. Trust anyone. Tell the truth."
"Cry when they get hurt," said Chloe, and Clark looked down on his hands.
"They don't show their feelings," he said, looking up into her eyes again. "And that's what made it impossible for me to figure out how he worked. I never knew what he was up to, what he was feeling, what he was planning. I thought he was my friend and it turned out I was his obsession. I never knew until he showed me his Look at the Kents-room. And that…"
"But that isn't all of it," Chloe protested, not as much defending Lex as finding Clark's memory faulty. "It wasn't. He did see you as his friend—much more than he ever saw me when we were all living in Smallville. He was intrigued by you, yes, but because of the PERSON you were first. You saved his life! And, of course, don't let it go to your head, Clark, but I didn't have a crush on you for nothing. You ARE pretty special, whether you can run 800 miles an hour or not. His fascination with WHAT you were came much later…and it wouldn't have grown to such monstrous extremes if you'd just confided in him."
"I know. I know. And I do blame myself for that. But the fact remains that Lex is…how to put it…easily and willingly obsessed with some subjects."
"Don't tone it down on my account," Chloe said calmly. "I know he's a bit crazy. Believe it or not, but that's one of the things I've learned to appreciate." An unexpected chuckle bubbled up her throat. "You should've seen him going through my purse after Edge had sent it back. It was so funny…"
"It isn't so funny when it's YOU he's cataloguing like that," Clark said, and Chloe realized that he could guess exactly how Lex had placed each item exactly two inch apart on the table and studied everything from every side. She could well imagine Lex studying Clark in much the same way, and also how discomforting that must be. She shrugged.
"I'm nothing special. That is to say, I'm not an alien. I can write a passable article, but I'm not worth obsessing over."
"He's already doing that."
"Over me? Don't be an ass."
"And he's doing it admirably well, if you haven't noticed yet," Clark concluded. He was smiling again. "Let me see…How often do you see him?"
"Almost every day. Which, since I'm DATING him, is pretty normal."
"Ok, I'll give you that one. Where do you meet up? Your place or his?"
"His, mostly."
"Why?"
"It's bigger."
"All you need is a bed."
"His bed's bigger too," Chloe deadpanned. "Look, Clark, I appreciate your comparison, but the situation's completely different. You were his underage super powerful doting friend, who was forbidden by his parents to hang out with the evil Luthor boy; he was lonely, bored, and probably missing his addictions from Metropolis. I, however, am a consenting adult of the female sex without any other power than my girl power." She licked her lips; suddenly the need to come clean was overwhelming. "And my reporter power."
Clark raised his eyebrows at the change in her voice.
"Do you know why we fought?" Chloe asked. Clark shook his head. "Because I followed a lead from Edge, and found a shitload of incriminating evidence against Lex, Lionel and LuthorCorp."
"What?" Clark exclaimed, then lowered his voice, even though nobody was paying attention to them. He put his mug down on a table and leaned closer to Chloe. "Edge sent you evidence? As in, your Mr. Smith and our Mr. Jones?"
"Yup."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because I couldn't."
"What do you mean?"
"He approached me." Chloe frowned. "And I didn't want to follow him up, but I did. Why didn't I tell you? I don't know. Maybe because I was ashamed to. Edge…very cunningly drew me in. In retrospect I fell for it very easily. And Lex reacted like he always would in these kind of situations. And the evidence…" She shot Clark a wry grin. "It was spectacular."
"The perfect Pandora's Box," Clark murmured, and once again Chloe reminded herself that Clark really was pretty perfect, himself. She didn't know many people who wouldn't have started screaming Why not? Why didn't you show us? Why didn't you?. She knew she would have shouted her throat hoarse if something of the kind would have happened to anyone else.
"Yeah. But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. Betray him. Publish what I'd written. It would have destroyed him. I almost did, though. And you know…I think I still almost destroyed him. That's a kind of power I maybe once would have wanted, but not anymore. Lois wouldn't understand. But you…do you?"
Clark nodded. Again, he focused on his hands, spread open on his thighs. "I do. Again. I mean…yeah. If I'd received the means to put Lex away half a year ago, yeah, then I'd have brought him down. But…" he sneered. It was an expression that looked a bit strange on his face, Chloe thought. She was used to seeing it on Lex's face, directed at himself or other people, but rarely ever on Clark's. "I guess I got charmed again. Does that make me sound gay?"
"Pretty much," said Chloe. "Hands off, Clark," she teased. "He's mine now."
Clark accidentally broke off the ear of his mug. "Oops," he said.
"Hand-eye coordination: failing," Chloe noted, interested.
Clark shrugged. For some reason he was blushing a little. Because of his clumsiness, or because…? Chloe observed him with a studious eye while he reached into his coat's pocket and fished out a small tube of super glue. He'd taken to carrying it with him wherever he went because things tended to end up broken when he visited places. Being able to both exert great pressure and heat up air with his eyes, Clark's quick little repairs to broken crockery, door handles and plates were nothing short of amazing.
"So," she said when the mug was repaired. "why'd you react like that? ARE you gay?"
He looked up from his handiwork with such a stupefied expression she was forced to admit that he probably wasn't. Nevertheless his smile seemed a little strained when he said, "No, Chloe, I'm not. I'm happily in love with Lana. But thanks for asking. And rest assured, I'm most certainly NOT in love with Lex. He's yours. All yours. I give you the responsibility for his welfare and the rest of the world's. Believe me, rather you than me."
"What if he gets shot again?" Seriously, because the way Clark said it almost felt as if he were washing his hands off Lex and that made her skin prickle.
Clark's smile widened. He gave her hand a soft, quick stroke with his fingers. "I was only talking about his mental welfare," he reassured her, "And only if his doesn't endanger yours. Don't worry, he's still on my Make Haste To Save When In Trouble List—or maybe he is again." He sighed. "If only because the world would be so incredibly boring without him. Arrgh. I'm going back to the office before I start saying I wear pink slippers and an apron and like to put on Lana's clothes in front of the mirror because it brings out my feminine side."
Chloe laughed. "You might as well confess to the truth, Clark. You love Lex to bits and you're eaten alive by jealousy he's in my bed and not yours."
Clark's perfect eyebrows did a can-can. "Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "That must be it. I secretly prefer a bald, sarcastic male with a twisted sense of humor over the sweetest, loveliest, most beautiful girl in the world." (Chloe noted with cheer that Clark saying this about Lana did not, for a change, hurt her feelings at all), "You're welcome to have him, bed and all. Just…make sure he doesn't push you out."
"He won't," Chloe said. "I'll hit him if he does."
Clark nodded briskly. "Good. Just try not to hit him in the head, because whenever I take a 'close' look at his cranium I want to take out my glue and do something about all those fractures. Anyway. Gotta go. Oh, if you see Lois tonight, please tell her to give me back my car keys, will you? Really, that cousin of yours doesn't know when jokes are no longer funny."
"Will do. Where are you off to?"
"Southern Kansas. Plane demonstration."
"Sounds wonderful."
"Uhuh. Especially without a car."
"You can hotwire it?"
"I don't know HOW to hotwire a car. I'm a reporter, not a car thief."
"I know how to hotwire a car."
Clark snorted. "I'll run and make up another convincing story. Just tell Lois to give me back my car keys."
"Ok."
"See you, Chloe."
"See you, Clark. Run carefully."
Chloe smiled. Clark smiled back. He put his hands in his coat pockets and sauntered out of the coffee shop. When she next blinked, he had disappeared.
That Wednesday, Lex was home early—that is to say, before six. Chloe would only arrive in another half hour, and he had ordered dinner to be delivered at seven. He had crawled behind his laptop to take care of some small things, and was now typing an email to Mister Wong, consulting his Chinese dictionary every other sentence. His Outlook program balked at Chinese characters. Lex privately hated Outlook with a vengeance and wondered why LuthorCorp hadn't created their own Email program. Outlook sucked so hard it could suck golf balls through garden hoses.
He clacked his tongue in irritation as an incoming message caused his machine to think about the necessary contraction of two characters. Some time ago he had made a cursor that changed into Rodin's The Thinker whenever Windows needed time to process information; he was now considering making another one shaped like a little man that was yawning. Finally The Thinker stopped thinking and turned back into an arrow. Immediately Lex lost all interest in his unfinished mail.
Because the incoming mail was titled 'So you won again' and was sent by a man Outlook identified as Martin Edge.
"You can't be serious…" Lex breathed. But Outlook never made jokes.
You survived. The mail began.
I give up.
I tried to ruin you professionally, and failed.
I tried to turn your business associates against you, and failed.
I tried to kill you physically, and I failed again.
Finally, I set the woman who loved you against you, and still I did not succeed. I know when my failure is complete.
In the middle ages the people used to believe in something called the Trial of God, or Divine Tribunal. Two men would fight; either the accuser and the accused, or someone, a champion, they had chosen to represent them. It was believed that God himself directed the hand of the winner. The loser, it was claimed, was struck down by God, and the winner was therefore proclaimed innocent by God, and not to be prosecuted.
I know you are not innocent. But I do know when to admit defeat. Perhaps I am not the right champion to bring you down. I have faith that one day, someone will stand up, take justice's sword and end you, be it professionally, socially, or physically. I only know it won't be me.
I know you have been searching for me. You can stop. You won't find me. Unlike my one-time attempt at being an executor, I prepared my flight very, very carefully, just like I planned my psychological seduction of Miss Sullivan very, very carefully. Tracing this email address will lead you nowhere; I am far away and you will not find me. I doubt we will ever meet again—although, you never know what fate has in store for you.
I cannot say that I enjoyed the descent into madness that profiling you brought me. Only now I realize how deeply fighting you affected me, and how dark my thoughts had become. My only consolation is that it must have altered you, as well. In a way, you have been brought to justice, and if you survived it, well, I can be generous and say that it was the outcome of a Trial of God.
There will be another champion. One day you will go down. Until then, I salute you, and I yield the victory to you.
Yours,
Martin Edge"This email will destroy itself in ten seconds," Lex muttered to himself. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven." He selected the mail and suspended his finger above the Del key. "Six. Five. Four. Three. Two." He skimmed the contents one last time. "One." He pressed delete. Then he went to his deleted messages and crossed the motherfucker out there, too. He searched his entire mail server to see if there was any last trace of Edge and his mail, but it was gone. Edge was gone.
He sat back, and noticed he was shaking like a leaf. When he picked up the glass of whiskey he'd poured before starting his mail to Wong the liquid sloshed against his mouth with the trembling of his hand.
He looked at the rows of Chinese characters and moaned aloud. That was stupid! I shouldn't have deleted that! Why on earth did I delete it? It might have given me a clue to his whereabouts!
He knew, however, that Edge's mail would have yielded no information whatsoever, just as it had promised. But still…It had been a knee-jerk reaction, and Lex prided himself on being able to repress reflexes like that. Apparently not. Subconsciously, he rubbed his shoulder. The wound had closed, and none of the holes Edge had shot in him hurt him anymore, but all of a sudden he was very much aware of each of the smooth, pink scars those bullets had left on him.
Like it or not, Edge still scared the hell out of him. Both because of the pain and blood loss he'd caused, and later, because of the mental anguish he'd instigated. Martin Edge, Lex thought, might very well be the most dangerous enemy he'd ever made, even if, according to his own words, he was no longer a real threat.
"Another champion, huh," he muttered aloud, and finished his Lagavulin in one big gulp. "I'll deal with them when they come."
He was exceedingly grateful when Victor rang to tell him that Miss Sullivan was on her way up (even though Chloe had a key, the guards insisted upon notifying him, which Lex thought an excellent service). He saved his message to Wong, intending to finish it at a later time, shut down his computer and was just closing the lid when Chloe thrust her key into the door.
By the time she had taken off her coat, scarf and mittens his hands were completely steady again. "Hey there," he said, inhaling the scent of her hair (shampoo and 'outside') as she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her cold red cheek against his. "Cold outside?"
"Didn't you notice?"
"I was busy." Half of the time he had no idea whether it was summer, spring, fall or winter. Inside his head there were no seasons.
Chloe tsk-ed. "You're missing out, Lex. It's lovely outside." She plunked down on a chair. "What are you doing? Did I interrupt anything?"
"Not really," said Lex. He looked at the white sweater with blue tassels she was wearing, frowned and canted his head. The fabric gleamed. It looked like very fine wool but obviously wasn't. He reached out a tentative finger and poked her sleeve.
Chloe's mouth wobbled. "Uh, Lex? What are you doing?"
"What the hell are you wearing?"
"It's a sweater?"
"But what is it made of?"
She gaped at him, then grinned and entered the game. "I have no idea. Something poly-something. Here, feel it! It's elastic yet warm. I have a matching scarf." She ran to the hall and came back with, indeed, a white and blue scarf that matched her sweater. "Here, try it on."
"Keep it away from me! It's unnatural."
"But just feel it! It's soft! It feels wonderful."
"Did it grow on a sheep, or any other animal?"
"No, but..."
"On a bush?"
"No! But..."
"Did it come out of an insect?"
"I don't think so."
"Is it made of the skin of some dead animal?"
"No animals were harmed during the production of this piece of clothing."
"Then I won't wear it." Lex said firmly.
"Oh for god's sake..."
"Exactly. If god didn't create it, I won't wear it on my skin."
"You wear silk!"
"Insect."
"Oh, yeah. Right. What about velvet?"
"Do I look like someone who'd wear VELVET?? Besides, velvet's usually made of silk; if I ever felt the need to dress up like a vampire I could wear a velvet cape—as long as no lycra was added."
"What about jeans? You do wear jeans, occasionally, do you?"
"Jeans are made of denim. Denim's made of cotton. Cotton grows on bushes."
Chloe growled. Then she perked up and grinned. "Rubber comes from trees."
"I somehow get the idea that my colleagues will react strangely if I were to enter my office dressed in rubber," Lex deadpanned. "Not to mention my father."
Chloe lost a brief struggle with her mirth before stating, "But it is natural."
"Absolutely. So is nettle cloth, but I doubt I'll ever feel the need to wear shirts made of nettle cloth."
"So there are things created by god you won't wear."
"God didn't create nettle cloth," Lex said with conviction. "Satan did."
Chloe shook her head and shrugged her shoulder comfortably in her soft poly-something sweater. Lex rubbed his hands over his 100 cotton shirt, as if wiping off the feel of unnaturalness of the condemned fabric. She laughed. "You are so weird."
Lex smiled. The final jitters caused by Edge's mail had completely disappeared. He gripped the offending sweater—which, indeed, felt perfectly fine and did look very good on her—between thumb and finger and jerked at it. "You'd look much better without it."
"You have the most one-tracked mind I've ever met."
"I am not sure that sentence is grammatically possible."
"Swallow it and like it, Lex. I will not be parted from my sweater this easily."
"No?" Lex asked. "Wanna bet?"
Fortunately for Chloe's sweater dinner arrived at that time. Unfortunately for the sweater she dropped a piece of sautéed potato in red wine sauce on her chest with her first bite. Lex sniggered. Chloe glowered at him. "You have cursed my sweater with your evil vibes."
"You can have one of mine," Lex said reassuringly. "Besides, didn't I tell you you'd look much better without it?"
Two and a half hours later Chloe (sans sweater, and pretty much sans any clothing) lay drowsing against Lex's chest in bed while Lex obsessively watched the news on every channel he could find. He'd watched seven different kinds of news by now, of which only two had English-speaking anchors. Chloe, no stranger to the desire to know what was going on in the world, had closed her eyes after the Spanish news, tried to distract Lex after the French news, and given up when her administrations left him nicely erect but still focused on the news. She trailed lazy circles over his chest in her half-sleep, waking up entirely only when he picked up her hand and put it back down on his stomach.
"Why do you do that?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Apparently the news had ended. He zapped to another channel.
She put her hand back on his chest. Lex just as automatically moved it to his stomach.
"That. Are you ticklish?"
"Hmm?" He looked down on her, and she put her hand on his chest again. "Oh. That. Yes, a little. Oh, by the way, Valerie Decan told me to say hi. I saw her today."
Shit: there is the fan. You can either hit it full-on or miss. "Oh," Chloe said faintly. She swallowed, but Lex didn't look mad. Expectant, but not mad. "She told you." Lex waited. "That I told her about the Cradle Cancer and the poisonous fertilizer."
"Not in so many words," Lex said. He had the gall to look somewhat smug. "But yes, she did. I only have one question. Why? Why Valerie? You hate her."
"I don't hate her!" Chloe protested. Lex smirked. "I just don't…like her very much. But she…I mean you and her…"
"Had sex. But that was before you…"
"That is not what I'm trying to say!"
"Oh," said Lex. "Sorry." He gave her a quick squeeze.
Chloe was too nervous to be angry and plowed on ahead full throttle. "The two of you are friends, right? And she's a doctor. And I really needed someone objective to talk to, and she was the only one I could think of. I just happened to bump into her. I was buying fresh produce from the Vegetable Mob a couple of streets away from my house…"
"Paulino's?" Lex asked, then raised his hand to indicate she should go on and pay no attention to his random remarks.
"Yes," Chloe said, feeling much calmer because of the random remark. "Paulino's. She happened to be there, we got talking, and we ended up talking for almost an hour over coffee."
"About me," Lex said, wheedling.
Chloe grinned. So that was it. The man was human after all. "Yes, Lex, about you. I was mad at you, and she helped me to get a better understanding of you."
"How?"
"Tell me something first."
"What?"
"While we were talking, Valerie told me that she'd caught you at a very vulnerable time, and that that prevented you from having a relationship with her. Or something like that." She noticed that Lex had gone rigid. "So," she said, searching his impassive face for a trace of emotion, any emotion, "I said that you couldn't possibly have been more vulnerable than you were when you were bleeding to death in the forest, but she said you were. What the hell was she talking about?"
A slow bloom of red rose in Lex's cheeks, visible in the light from the television. "If I tell you," he said, "will you tell me what Valerie said about me?"
Chloe considered. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell Lex that his still-befriended-ex had compared him to a crushed coffee bean. On the other hand she was dying to know what Lex's moment of supreme vulnerability entailed. "Ok."
"I couldn't get it up with her," said Lex. "Your turn."
"Wh-what?"
"Could. Not. Get. It. Up." Lex repeated patiently. His face looked a bit odd, all red but still expressionless. "Tell me."
"You went FLACID on her ass?" Chloe gasped.
"Not on her ass," Lex said with a strange twitch of his mouth. He waited until Chloe stopped whooping with laughter. "So? And?"
"I'm…I'm s-sorry," Chloe giggled, wiping her eyes. "It's just…that's the ONE thing I never would've thought to hear coming from you. I mean…you! The one thing that ALWAYS works is…"
"Yes, thank you," Lex said dryly. "We had a deal here, Sullivan. What did she tell you about me, and why did it change your mind about ditching your Pulitzer Prize-to-be?"
Chloe put her hand on his cheek. Smooth and hot, but cooling. Embarrassment slid off of Lex like water from a candle. "Don't be mad?"
"If it changed your mind, why should I be mad?"
"She made me feel sorry for you."
Again, Lex stiffened. "Sorry?" he drawled dangerously.
She thwacked his arm. "You promised you wouldn't be mad."
"Why would you feel SORRY for me? I don't need to be pitied!"
"I wasn't talking about pity. You'd been a bastard to me, and the last thing I've ever felt for you is pity. But she said…what it comes down to is that someone who needs as many masks as you, who feels the need to put up a mask as often as you do—and you do, Lex, you still do—must somehow feel the need to protect what's below the mask because it can't stand up for itself."
"I can…" Lex started vehemently, but he stopped when she hit his arm again and sat up on her knees.
"I'm not implying you're some poor, helpless boy," she said, "and neither did Valerie. Really, we know better. But she did make me realize that what I was doing to you was far, far worse than anything you could ever do to anyone you've ever loved. And that I, since I claimed to love you, would be a truly HORRIBLE person if I went on with my misguided vengeance. By making me feel sorry for you, she made me feel like the most detestable, hypocritical bitch in the world."
She looked away. "It was not a pleasant conversation."
Lex stroked her hair away from her face. "But," he murmured, "why did you need Valerie to tell you that?"
She snorted. "Because while you may be a lying, scheming bastard, I am quite the hypocritical bitch." Lex surprised her by starting to laugh; first just a quirk of his mouth, then a smile and finally an honest chuckle. "You're not mad?"
"No. I told you I wouldn't be mad and I never go back on my word. No, I was just thinking what a pretty pair we make. Me with the lying and the scheming and you with the hypocritical bitchiness." He sat up and kissed her, slow and thorough and long.
"Wow," Chloe sighed, when she had caught her breath. "You must really like hypocritical bitches."
"I love 'em," said Lex, and stiffened for the third time that evening. As she lay back down beside him, Chloe decided that there really should be a way to make him lose his fears for saying the word 'love'. And there was, if she remembered correctly. She smiled. It would be the perfect gift. She would buy it the very first thing tomorrow.
Thursday afternoon. Lex was sitting at a corner table of a small restaurant, whiling away the few minutes before his appointment by studying and calculating the levels of cholesterol contained in the food on the menu.
This burger is enough to cause cardiac arrest all by itself, he was thinking, and then a shadow fell over the greasy card. He looked up, and up, and up, and finally met the eyes of the person he'd been waiting for.
"Clark."
"Hey Lex." Clark regarded him apprehensively, as if he wasn't sure Lex wasn't going to freak out and run at the sight of him, but when Lex faced him with a pleasant smile he relaxed and returned the smile. He wore his Daily Planet suit, and Lex thought it looked very strange on him. Not bad—Clark could wear a potato bag and look stunning—but out of place and strange.
It's the lack of flannel. Lex searched his own psyche for signs of panic or fear. There was a small trill of nervousness somewhere very far down, but no subconscious reactions or fleeing urges. That was good. Maybe he could stop having nightmares about that careless finger on his breast bone, holding him down, now. Especially after having sex with his magnificent girlfriend.
Are you going to tell me what you were dreaming about? she'd asked, that memorable evening almost two weeks ago. Lex had implied he had dreamed about golden monkeys—which was a lie. It seemed he couldn't stop lying even if he wanted to. But come on, what else could he have said?
Why yes, of course, Chloe, I was dreaming about how your best friend and former sweet-heart burst into my apartment and raped me. Don't look so shocked, dear. Apart from the contusions, the feeling of total helplessness and the fricking hangover I got from his pheromones—yeah, pheromones, honey—it was really quite pleasurable. He actually went down on me. Can you imagine that? Clark Kent going down on me, just like you sometimes do. He's quite good at it, would you believe it? What's more, I offered him to come back and do it again whenever he feels the need. I mean, what's a nightmare or two compared to OWNING Clark Kent, Alien boy extraordinaire?
It was a bond weaker than love but stronger than friendship, stronger, even, than blackmail, because it combined both of the above, and added a healthy dose of shame and dependence. Clark would never trust him like Chloe now did—because he wasn't willing to go as far as she was willing to go for Lex—but he did trust Lex completely to both keep this a secret and to be there if Clark needed him. WHEN Clark needed him. Lex was convinced the time would come again that Clark would start burning up on the inside. He hoped it wouldn't be soon, but a part of him was looking forward to it as well. For one, because he was confident Clark would take better care not to hurt him this time. For another…It was certainly a heady feeling to be needed by the strongest person on earth, and to be able to extract information about said person from said person, without being rebuked, classified as an obsessed freak or carelessly tossed about the room.
Lex's silence gave him a certain power over Clark, even as he was giving up some of it right now, and this giving up would only strengthen his hold on Clark, and power was something Lex craved like food, water or sunshine.
Other people were alcoholics. Or addicted to heroin. Everyone their own, Lex figured. His addiction was rather harmless. Especially since his stuff now came out to meet him after one short telephone, and shook his hand before sitting down at the same table.
"You wanted to see me."
"Yes," Lex said. He lifted the small container from its place at his feet, put it in front of him on the table and, after a small victory over himself, pushed it to Clark's side of the table.
"What's this?" Clark asked. He studied it, then frowned as his X-ray bounced off of it—or at least, that was what Lex thought caused the frown.
"Open it."
"What's inside?"
"It's a nuclear bomb, Clark. It will go off when you open the lid and blow this whole earth to smithereens. Open it."
Clark raised one eyebrow before shrugging and clicking the box open. He frowned again. "Is this my blood?"
"Yes." AND GIVE IT BACK TO MEEEEE!! "That vial on the left is what's left of it. The other five are manipulated samples, used to try out the treatment. And that other box holds plasma. All yours. Here it is, back again." He leaned back in his chair, making sure not to stare at the container with vials as if it was something he desperately wanted.
"This is all?" Clark asked, not mistrustfully but simply curious.
"Yes. Well, we have a few doses of the treatment in store, but I'd like to hang on to those in case there is another…"
"No, yes, of course," Clark said hastily. He closed the box, stared at it. "So what am I supposed to do with this?"
"I don't know," Lex said. "Destroy it. Bury it. Keep it safe. I don't know."
"Why didn't you destroy it?"
Lex smiled. "Because I couldn't do that."
"If you expose it to kryptonite…"
"That is not the kind of inability I was speaking about," Lex said calmly. "And you know that. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't offer to give it back to me so I can destroy it for you, or tell me to hang on to it in case something happens to either you or some sick person. Just take it and…do with it what you want, just take it out of my sight." He blinked. Clark was gone. The container was gone as well. He blinked again. Clark was back. The container was not.
"Gone," said Clark, reaching for his wallet. "Do you want coffee?"
"Where did you…?"
"Nuh-uh, Lex. Coffee?" He was grinning now, not smiling but grinning like a teenager.
Most alcoholics did not fall hopelessly in love with their bottle. Then again, most bottles did not come from outer space. I definitely need to get away from him. One person capable of ripping out my heart is more than enough, really. Let's stick with the adorable blonde with the million dollar smile and leave the strapping young alien alone, shall we? Let's stay HEALTHY.
"Sure," he said, helplessly returning that grin. "After getting me a cure for cancer you can get me a cup of coffee too. Black. With sugar. Please."
EPILOGUE
At five o' clock on Thursday Chloe Sullivan breezed into Lex's office, just as he got off the phone to make final arrangements for their flight early the next morning.
"Chloe," he said, surprised. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home, packing?"
"Yes," she said, grinning from ear to ear, full wattage, almost blinding. "I should, but I got you something and I think you should have it. So you can get used to it." Incredibly, her grin got even wider. Her number of teeth was amazing.
"Don't tell me you've bought me a butt plug," said Lex, "Because I can tell you straight away that I won't use it."
Chloe guffawed. "No," she laughed. "No, I didn't buy you that. Where is it?" She dug into her purse, that famous and infamous purse, and fished out a small package in red wrapping paper. "Here!"
Lex accepted it with caution.
"Oh come on, open it. It won't bite you."
Lex carefully removed the paper, very much aware of the light shining from the grinning girl on his face and fingers.
It was a small monkey, about three inches tall. He supposed it could be worn as a key chain—the kind he'd never wear.
"Cute," he said, eyeing the thing with amused wariness. "A monkey."
"It's not golden. Press it," Chloe said. "Go on, press its belly."
Lex squeezed the monkey. As he did so, two red lights bloomed behind its cheeks, it made a smacking sound, like a kiss by a demented old aunt, and proclaimed: "I love you!" Lex winced.
Chloe chuckled. "You can practice with it," she said smugly. "You know, get used to the phrase. It won't mind if you say it back, either."
Lex shivered. "Your solution to my mental deficiency to appreciate the words 'I love you' is a talking key chain?"
"Well, it's either the key chain or me. I love you." Lex winced. "I love you." Lex winced. "I love you."
Lex sighed. He pressed the monkey's belly. "I love you!" it chirped. He looked up and met Chloe's eyes, grinning.
"No," she said, realizing what made him laugh. "No, Lex, you can't use it as a spokesperson."
"I love you!" cheered the monkey. Lex stroked it with his finger. "What an excellent gift! Do they also come in 'You're fired!'?"
THE END
Cheers!
Kitty