2. At The Torch: No Smoke Without Fire.
LEX
Chloe is grumbling over her desk, insistent that someone has been messing with her stuff. How she can tell in that midden is beyond me. The High School is oddly silent on a Saturday. It's still too early for football practice or whatever violent physical activity is in season. I amuse myself by reading the Wall of Weird.
"Am I on here?"
"Should you be? Oh, yeah, I forgot, bald and sexy millionaires are down the right-hand corner. Did I -let- this pass?" She waves an article at me. "Sports reporter. I think he types with his toes. Jockstrap!"
I recognise these symptoms. Wordlessly, I pick up the 'Daily Planet' mug off the desk. Thus far have I fallen. Lex Luthor, millionaire barista.
I don't bother with the student machine. If you want the decent stuff, look in the teacher's lounge. The room has the usual smell of cigarettes and quiet desperation. On my return, I just stand in the door and watch Chloe at work. A fierce little bundle of nosy energy, one part common sense to two parts snarky humour. My girl.
Waking up this morning, I had no idea where I was for a moment. Far more colour than I was used to, cream and warm earth tones. Clothing, books and cd's piled haphazard. Great big X-files poster on the wall. A total expression of the owner's personality.
She half-looks up, reaches out one hand, waves it impatiently when she doesn't get her drink.
"Grabby." I hand it over before she gets nasty. "What's this week's lead?"
CHLOE
Someone has been in my stuff. Lex is anal about his own desk, doesn't understand that I know exactly where everything is. I guess for him it's a combination of boarding school training and general paranoia. aagh. Has this moron heard of punctuation?
The god of boyfriends has brought coffee. Good coffee too. He's gone back to reading the Wall. That was what he was doing the first time I met him properly. Came into my office, and there was this elegant, demonic figure propped on my desk, talking to Clark.
An odd friendship, that, despite the whole saviour bit. Clark gets on with everyone, all goofy charm. Lex is very self-sufficient and private - I don't presume to know all his secrets, don't think I want to know some of them. Still, they -both- hide things. Clark got really weird on me over that adoption thing, though perhaps I was being a bit insensitive. That file is still my guilty little secret. Along with the dodgy soft-porn scribblings hidden away in the private correspondence file.
I close the last file triumphantly, slip up behind Lex where I can slide my arms round his waist. Have to peer round his shoulder, 'cos I'm way too short to see over.
"Whatcha found?"
"Something new pinned to the Wall. There."
I fall for it, lean forward, find myself spun round, backed up amongst the clippings. Wicked blue-grey eyes. "See?"
And we're happily engrossed in each other's mouths, and I've got a nice firm handful of Luthor butt, when we're interrupted again.
"Mr Luthor! Miss Sullivan!"
Principal Kwan. Haunting the halls on a Saturday. Doesn't he have a home to go to?
Lex is far less freaked out than I am. After all, Kwan can't give the school's greatest benefactor a detention, much as he would like to. And kissing in a private office doesn't violate any school policy. He can't do very much but fume impotently, really. Still pretty scary. My private life is rapidly becoming a public life. Maybe we should just go make out in the Talon.
LEX
Chloe is grumbling over her desk, insistent that someone has been messing with her stuff. How she can tell in that midden is beyond me. The High School is oddly silent on a Saturday. It's still too early for football practice or whatever violent physical activity is in season. I amuse myself by reading the Wall of Weird.
"Am I on here?"
"Should you be? Oh, yeah, I forgot, bald and sexy millionaires are down the right-hand corner. Did I -let- this pass?" She waves an article at me. "Sports reporter. I think he types with his toes. Jockstrap!"
I recognise these symptoms. Wordlessly, I pick up the 'Daily Planet' mug off the desk. Thus far have I fallen. Lex Luthor, millionaire barista.
I don't bother with the student machine. If you want the decent stuff, look in the teacher's lounge. The room has the usual smell of cigarettes and quiet desperation. On my return, I just stand in the door and watch Chloe at work. A fierce little bundle of nosy energy, one part common sense to two parts snarky humour. My girl.
Waking up this morning, I had no idea where I was for a moment. Far more colour than I was used to, cream and warm earth tones. Clothing, books and cd's piled haphazard. Great big X-files poster on the wall. A total expression of the owner's personality.
She half-looks up, reaches out one hand, waves it impatiently when she doesn't get her drink.
"Grabby." I hand it over before she gets nasty. "What's this week's lead?"
CHLOE
Someone has been in my stuff. Lex is anal about his own desk, doesn't understand that I know exactly where everything is. I guess for him it's a combination of boarding school training and general paranoia. aagh. Has this moron heard of punctuation?
The god of boyfriends has brought coffee. Good coffee too. He's gone back to reading the Wall. That was what he was doing the first time I met him properly. Came into my office, and there was this elegant, demonic figure propped on my desk, talking to Clark.
An odd friendship, that, despite the whole saviour bit. Clark gets on with everyone, all goofy charm. Lex is very self-sufficient and private - I don't presume to know all his secrets, don't think I want to know some of them. Still, they -both- hide things. Clark got really weird on me over that adoption thing, though perhaps I was being a bit insensitive. That file is still my guilty little secret. Along with the dodgy soft-porn scribblings hidden away in the private correspondence file.
I close the last file triumphantly, slip up behind Lex where I can slide my arms round his waist. Have to peer round his shoulder, 'cos I'm way too short to see over.
"Whatcha found?"
"Something new pinned to the Wall. There."
I fall for it, lean forward, find myself spun round, backed up amongst the clippings. Wicked blue-grey eyes. "See?"
And we're happily engrossed in each other's mouths, and I've got a nice firm handful of Luthor butt, when we're interrupted again.
"Mr Luthor! Miss Sullivan!"
Principal Kwan. Haunting the halls on a Saturday. Doesn't he have a home to go to?
Lex is far less freaked out than I am. After all, Kwan can't give the school's greatest benefactor a detention, much as he would like to. And kissing in a private office doesn't violate any school policy. He can't do very much but fume impotently, really. Still pretty scary. My private life is rapidly becoming a public life. Maybe we should just go make out in the Talon.