ta erotika
A Smallville Fanfic
by Emily Moni Luthor
ta erotika: [Greek] the proper pursuit of love
CHAPTER 1: INUNDATION
Author's Note: This, being my only Smallville fanfic, occurs directly after Duplicity, so a forewarning: it may contain spoilers if you have not seen the second season. I also feel like I must explain myself. Finally have I surrendered to that great injustice I feel I have done to Smallville by not writing about it; after all, I spent several years with my best friends on our Friends series Queen of Hearts. Seeing as I do not appreciate Friends even half as much as I appreciate Smallville, it seems only right for me to treat Smallville as such I have Friends. That, or maybe I've just been inspired.so please enjoy this dramedy version, and forgive me if it is too soapy. (As well, I have read a total of no Smallville fanfics, so I am truly sorry if ideas within this fic seem reproductions of another; I am completely oblivious to all that is out there. And also, if I happen to make a mistake in regards to the show detail or the setting, please disregard it - it is merely the work of my poor memory. Let's just pretend it is that way in my Smallville.)
Who: all main characters are important in their own way.
When: directly after Duplicity; assumes that the Spring Formal occurred in June, and now it is September.
Two penetrating beams of fire shot across the kitchen, hitting their mark on a pan of bacon and eggs. A burst of flame wafted dangerously into the air above the pan, emanating a surprising warmth throughout the room. When the licks of orange finally faded away into simple rings of smoke, Pete moved cautiously toward the stove and peeked into the pan, revealing the sight of charred remains.
"Mm, breakfast flambé," he observed facetiously, returning to his seat at the kitchen table. "My favourite."
"I never claimed to be a good cook." Clark shrugged, grinning at his friend.
At that moment, Martha Kent walked in amidst the wisps of smoke. "Oh!" she coughed, giving Clark a slightly reproachful look, but in a motherly fashion. "What have I told you about playing with fire indoors?"
"Sorry, Mom." Clark and Pete exchanged knowing looks.
As Martha turned her attention to fixing a proper meal, she asked after Pete. "So how are you this morning, Pete?"
"Amazed, as usual," he chuckled. "And amused."
"I'm just glad," offered Jonathan Kent, entering from outside where he had already been hard at work, "that you're over here so much of the time watching Clark instead of out there telling the world about him."
Clark, embarrassed for his friend, quickly shot his father a quieting look.
With a warning tone, Martha matched Clark's feelings. "Jonathan."
Jonathan shrugged, wiping a trace of sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. "Listen, I'm sorry," he said calmly, stuffing the handkerchief into a pocket of his jeans. "I just worry about this. If ever it leaked out, our family would be torn apart."
Pete stood then and faced Clark's father. "Mr. Kent, I understand completely. You can trust me." He turned back to his friend. "Well, I've got to take off. It's a hard life for those of us who have to catch the bus to school."
Clark laughed. "See you in homeroom, Pete."
The Kents said their good-byes to Pete, only to morph rapidly to positive salutations as Lana slid in the door following a few moments after Pete's exit.
"Lana," Clark said quietly, rising. "Hi."
"Hi, Clark." Lana cast him a melancholy glance, then smiled at Martha and Jonathan. "Good morning. Listen Clark, I need to talk to you."
"Uh, sure." Clark's eyes skimmed the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then he grabbed his backpack from nearby. "Why don't we go outside. Do you have to catch the bus?"
"I'm not going to school," she replied harshly.
Martha and Jonathan, taken aback, exchanged glimpses of concern.
"Ohhh-kay then," Clark went on. "Well, we can still go outside."
He ushered Lana out the door and into the cool autumn air. The leaves were falling randomly, red and gold, from strong oaks on all sides. The scene, with an already risen, yet oddly cold sun, was refreshing, but Clark had little mind to enjoy it. "Lana, what's up?"
"Well, I don't really know where to begin, Clark." Lana walked a little ways from the house, then turned to face Clark. She clapped her hands nervously against her thighs. "I suppose an apology is in order for my behaviour the other day."
"What behaviour is that?" Clark smiled encouragingly. His pure and reverent views of her would never allow him to commit any negative action on her part to memory.
"I mean my outburst in the loft. I never should have been so disrespectful to your needs, especially since you're always so compliant to mine. So before I begin, I want you to know that I'm not telling you this because I expect any kind of explanation in return. I'm telling you this because you're my friend and you'll take care of me."
Clark nodded. "It could never be any other way. And don't worry about what happened - I had completely forgotten."
Lana breathed a sigh of relief. "I felt so awful after I stomped out of there." She quieted, knowing she was only stalling for time. All at once she understood that, whatever it might be that Clark concealed from her, it must be very private, just as what she felt now compelled to reveal. If it was half as awful as this, she could never blame him for keeping it to himself.
And yet if she did so, she would have no one. Right now she needed support in every possible way, and from every available loved-one.
"Lana, what is it?" Clark looked down at her with large, compassionate eyes, attempting to break through the regret he could feel radiating from her.
Breathing in deeply, she began to speak.
Awaking with a bout of sneezes, Lex shot straight up in bed. Something was not right. Bringing a shaky and clammy hand up to his face, he patted his cheeks, his nose. His eyes opened and closed as normal, his lips were smooth and pursed. Nothing seemed out of order but for an unusually sweaty frame. His chin jutted as usual, but something was wrong. Unlike his lips, his chin was anything but smooth. But why?
Throwing the covers aside, he leaped from his locale of slumber and raced to the nearest mirror. His eyes falling upon this - this abnormality, a scream let loose through the Luthor mansion. -- Hair!
Though invading the skin of his face merely as miniscule pricking leeches, similarly and utterly red tufts of this foreign fur protruded at odd angles from his previously shiny head. In horror, Lex fed a strand of curls through his thumb and index finger. Never had he seen such a hideous site since.a lack of oxygen piercing hungered arteries, a chief fear of the air: attraction to the ground green below.again, he screamed.
"Lex."
No, his father could not see him this way! Was he so vulnerable and naïve, such a tenderfoot once more, wreathed with this crown of curls? A moment of panic overtook him, before he remembered. We both would have been wrong. He breathed a sigh of relief. So that error on his part was worth something. Though - for Heaven's sake - had it ever made Lionel delusional. A spaceship: sure. The man was crazy. Next he'd be hearing little green men in his bedroom at night.
Lionel made a grand entrance into the room, trailing his cane.
"You screamed, Lex."
"I had a nightmare."
"I've always said, lay off those anchovies before bedtime, Lex. I know you find them tasty, but they do strange things to the intellect."
"Of course, you're right." Lex rolled his eyes. He had only eaten a few. Besides, the nightmare was just a cover story. He feared the symbolic causal factors of this strange return to the past; it had made him weak as a child. Might it not do the same to him now?
"See now, isn't this progress? Now that you're listening to your daddy, maybe we're on the road to better relations."
"I'm sure we are." This conversation was trying Lex's patience. He had more pressing things to think about, such as where had it come from and why and oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, how to rid himself of the repulsive raider?
"Well now that I'm here, I have a surprise for you, Lex." Lionel raised his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply.
"Now you're whistling for your borgs? I really don't think they'll respond -"
He trailed off as a large German shepherd trotted into the room and sat obediently at Lionel's feet. Lionel reached out and stroked the dog's head.
"What is that mangy thing doing in my bedroom?" Lex demanded.
Ignoring Lex's outburst, Lionel spoke calmly. "Missy, I'd like you to meet Lex.my, er, son. Lex: this is Missy, my seeing-eye dog."
"I thought those things were usually Labradors." Lex stepped back, leaning against the bureau, repulsed by the animal as she sniffed at him. He sneezed.
"Not Missy," Lionel explained proudly. "Her previous owner was a friend of mine on the Metropolis police force. I convinced him to sell her to me. She was a drug-sniffer in her younger days, but they retired her because she demanded too much attention, and didn't want to work." He stroked at her ears lovingly. "My friend took in Missy, and had her trained as a seeing-eye dog, as his wife was blind. Most unfortunately, she passed away just a few weeks ago. Ralph was happy enough to have Missy working again, as she was quite depressed at Raquel's death."
"I see," Lex said in disgust. "I imagine you'll be returning to the city soon then."
"Oh, quite the opposite, Lex. The estate is the perfect place for her to roam as she pleases. We'll be staying here for quite awhile, I believe."
Lex bit his lip, but quickly abandoned that action when his frontal teeth closed on a multitude of scratchy hairs. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. If you'll recall, mother's little terrier, Lucy, we were forced to bequeath upon our neighbours in Metropolis after we learned I was allergic. That thing certainly cannot stay here."
Ignorant of Lex's point, Lionel struck up an argument. "You speak fondly of Lucy, and yet spurn Missy? I have never known you to be so cold, Lex."
"Oh forget it!" Lex cried, throwing his arms up in abandonment. "What a ridiculous conversation: I can't believe we're discussing animals like this. Do what you like with your dog, but keep her out of here!"
Missy sauntered over to her master's son and licked his hand tenderly; Lex let out a yelp of disgust, and stomped into the bathroom, leaving a self-satisfied Lionel behind.
"I just don't believe it. You.you're Lana," Chloe breathed. "This is just unheard of."
"Now don't go publishing this in the paper," Clark warned her, wrapping a protective arm around Lana's shoulders. "She's upset enough. It was all I could do to get her to come to school this morning."
At that, Chloe's mouth dropped open. The reaction she had raised from Clark shocked her more than the news about Lana. Partly insulted, partly injured, she rebuffed. "I'm a reporter, Clark Kent, not a gossip- columnist. And I would never spread harmful news about my friends."
"I know you wouldn't, Chloe." Lana smiled sadly. "You're a good friend."
"Thank you." Chloe shot Clark a triumphant glance, but he was too involved in examining Lana's anguish-etched face to notice. She quickly changed the subject. "So, uh, how did Nell take the news?" Immediately following the release of the words, Chloe felt horrid for digging deeper into Lana's personal life, and only to alter the conversation from a path related to her. Maybe Clark had been right to question her motive, for she was truly a reporter at heart. But wasn't she first a friend?
"Well she wasn't at all surprised," Lana explained, her voice soft. Discussing the matter was certainly not on her list of favourite things to do. It was painful, showering her with regrets and sorrows abound.and with questions: what to do now?
"You see," she continued, "Nell is the one who insisted I see a doctor. She was worried my symptoms might have something to do with the trauma of the storm last spring," -she shot Clark a meaningful look, which he innocently ignored- "or so she said. Of course, she suspected otherwise. But when we found out for certain last night, she just broke down into this utter silence." Lana's eyes brimmed with both tears and uncontrollable rage. She began to expound in a much louder and expressive voice, which wavered every few words. "Last night I didn't sleep; I could only think about how I've let down Nell - and just when she was getting to be so happy with Dean - and of course how I've let down myself! The only rational decision I can force myself to come to at this point is that I can't go home tonight."
"Lana's going to be staying at my place for awhile," Clark explained to Chloe. "At least until she comes to -"
At once, Chloe tuned out, absorbed in her own thoughts. Lana would be staying with the Kents? With Clark? What did it mean? Was Clark.?
A terrible bell rang clearly, interrupting the ghastly thought. Chloe jerked herself from her questioning mind.
"Well, I'm off to gym. Lana, I'll meet you at my locker after school, all right?" Clark smiled at her as he backed slowly away from his friends.
Lana nodded, then she and Chloe turned toward their next class.
As they walked in uncomfortable silence, Chloe debated with herself. She just had to know.but had she the gall to ask such a question of such a good friend?.
In rapid decision, she drew in a quick breath. "Does the father know?"
Lana stopped abruptly, and looked at Chloe, sickeningly surprised at Chloe's blatant ability, particularly since it was exposed so soon after she had defended Chloe's character. "Yes, he does." Without another word, she hastened away.
Chloe just looked after her in disbelief and incredible dismay. So it was true.
A Smallville Fanfic
by Emily Moni Luthor
ta erotika: [Greek] the proper pursuit of love
CHAPTER 1: INUNDATION
Author's Note: This, being my only Smallville fanfic, occurs directly after Duplicity, so a forewarning: it may contain spoilers if you have not seen the second season. I also feel like I must explain myself. Finally have I surrendered to that great injustice I feel I have done to Smallville by not writing about it; after all, I spent several years with my best friends on our Friends series Queen of Hearts. Seeing as I do not appreciate Friends even half as much as I appreciate Smallville, it seems only right for me to treat Smallville as such I have Friends. That, or maybe I've just been inspired.so please enjoy this dramedy version, and forgive me if it is too soapy. (As well, I have read a total of no Smallville fanfics, so I am truly sorry if ideas within this fic seem reproductions of another; I am completely oblivious to all that is out there. And also, if I happen to make a mistake in regards to the show detail or the setting, please disregard it - it is merely the work of my poor memory. Let's just pretend it is that way in my Smallville.)
Who: all main characters are important in their own way.
When: directly after Duplicity; assumes that the Spring Formal occurred in June, and now it is September.
Two penetrating beams of fire shot across the kitchen, hitting their mark on a pan of bacon and eggs. A burst of flame wafted dangerously into the air above the pan, emanating a surprising warmth throughout the room. When the licks of orange finally faded away into simple rings of smoke, Pete moved cautiously toward the stove and peeked into the pan, revealing the sight of charred remains.
"Mm, breakfast flambé," he observed facetiously, returning to his seat at the kitchen table. "My favourite."
"I never claimed to be a good cook." Clark shrugged, grinning at his friend.
At that moment, Martha Kent walked in amidst the wisps of smoke. "Oh!" she coughed, giving Clark a slightly reproachful look, but in a motherly fashion. "What have I told you about playing with fire indoors?"
"Sorry, Mom." Clark and Pete exchanged knowing looks.
As Martha turned her attention to fixing a proper meal, she asked after Pete. "So how are you this morning, Pete?"
"Amazed, as usual," he chuckled. "And amused."
"I'm just glad," offered Jonathan Kent, entering from outside where he had already been hard at work, "that you're over here so much of the time watching Clark instead of out there telling the world about him."
Clark, embarrassed for his friend, quickly shot his father a quieting look.
With a warning tone, Martha matched Clark's feelings. "Jonathan."
Jonathan shrugged, wiping a trace of sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. "Listen, I'm sorry," he said calmly, stuffing the handkerchief into a pocket of his jeans. "I just worry about this. If ever it leaked out, our family would be torn apart."
Pete stood then and faced Clark's father. "Mr. Kent, I understand completely. You can trust me." He turned back to his friend. "Well, I've got to take off. It's a hard life for those of us who have to catch the bus to school."
Clark laughed. "See you in homeroom, Pete."
The Kents said their good-byes to Pete, only to morph rapidly to positive salutations as Lana slid in the door following a few moments after Pete's exit.
"Lana," Clark said quietly, rising. "Hi."
"Hi, Clark." Lana cast him a melancholy glance, then smiled at Martha and Jonathan. "Good morning. Listen Clark, I need to talk to you."
"Uh, sure." Clark's eyes skimmed the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then he grabbed his backpack from nearby. "Why don't we go outside. Do you have to catch the bus?"
"I'm not going to school," she replied harshly.
Martha and Jonathan, taken aback, exchanged glimpses of concern.
"Ohhh-kay then," Clark went on. "Well, we can still go outside."
He ushered Lana out the door and into the cool autumn air. The leaves were falling randomly, red and gold, from strong oaks on all sides. The scene, with an already risen, yet oddly cold sun, was refreshing, but Clark had little mind to enjoy it. "Lana, what's up?"
"Well, I don't really know where to begin, Clark." Lana walked a little ways from the house, then turned to face Clark. She clapped her hands nervously against her thighs. "I suppose an apology is in order for my behaviour the other day."
"What behaviour is that?" Clark smiled encouragingly. His pure and reverent views of her would never allow him to commit any negative action on her part to memory.
"I mean my outburst in the loft. I never should have been so disrespectful to your needs, especially since you're always so compliant to mine. So before I begin, I want you to know that I'm not telling you this because I expect any kind of explanation in return. I'm telling you this because you're my friend and you'll take care of me."
Clark nodded. "It could never be any other way. And don't worry about what happened - I had completely forgotten."
Lana breathed a sigh of relief. "I felt so awful after I stomped out of there." She quieted, knowing she was only stalling for time. All at once she understood that, whatever it might be that Clark concealed from her, it must be very private, just as what she felt now compelled to reveal. If it was half as awful as this, she could never blame him for keeping it to himself.
And yet if she did so, she would have no one. Right now she needed support in every possible way, and from every available loved-one.
"Lana, what is it?" Clark looked down at her with large, compassionate eyes, attempting to break through the regret he could feel radiating from her.
Breathing in deeply, she began to speak.
Awaking with a bout of sneezes, Lex shot straight up in bed. Something was not right. Bringing a shaky and clammy hand up to his face, he patted his cheeks, his nose. His eyes opened and closed as normal, his lips were smooth and pursed. Nothing seemed out of order but for an unusually sweaty frame. His chin jutted as usual, but something was wrong. Unlike his lips, his chin was anything but smooth. But why?
Throwing the covers aside, he leaped from his locale of slumber and raced to the nearest mirror. His eyes falling upon this - this abnormality, a scream let loose through the Luthor mansion. -- Hair!
Though invading the skin of his face merely as miniscule pricking leeches, similarly and utterly red tufts of this foreign fur protruded at odd angles from his previously shiny head. In horror, Lex fed a strand of curls through his thumb and index finger. Never had he seen such a hideous site since.a lack of oxygen piercing hungered arteries, a chief fear of the air: attraction to the ground green below.again, he screamed.
"Lex."
No, his father could not see him this way! Was he so vulnerable and naïve, such a tenderfoot once more, wreathed with this crown of curls? A moment of panic overtook him, before he remembered. We both would have been wrong. He breathed a sigh of relief. So that error on his part was worth something. Though - for Heaven's sake - had it ever made Lionel delusional. A spaceship: sure. The man was crazy. Next he'd be hearing little green men in his bedroom at night.
Lionel made a grand entrance into the room, trailing his cane.
"You screamed, Lex."
"I had a nightmare."
"I've always said, lay off those anchovies before bedtime, Lex. I know you find them tasty, but they do strange things to the intellect."
"Of course, you're right." Lex rolled his eyes. He had only eaten a few. Besides, the nightmare was just a cover story. He feared the symbolic causal factors of this strange return to the past; it had made him weak as a child. Might it not do the same to him now?
"See now, isn't this progress? Now that you're listening to your daddy, maybe we're on the road to better relations."
"I'm sure we are." This conversation was trying Lex's patience. He had more pressing things to think about, such as where had it come from and why and oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, how to rid himself of the repulsive raider?
"Well now that I'm here, I have a surprise for you, Lex." Lionel raised his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply.
"Now you're whistling for your borgs? I really don't think they'll respond -"
He trailed off as a large German shepherd trotted into the room and sat obediently at Lionel's feet. Lionel reached out and stroked the dog's head.
"What is that mangy thing doing in my bedroom?" Lex demanded.
Ignoring Lex's outburst, Lionel spoke calmly. "Missy, I'd like you to meet Lex.my, er, son. Lex: this is Missy, my seeing-eye dog."
"I thought those things were usually Labradors." Lex stepped back, leaning against the bureau, repulsed by the animal as she sniffed at him. He sneezed.
"Not Missy," Lionel explained proudly. "Her previous owner was a friend of mine on the Metropolis police force. I convinced him to sell her to me. She was a drug-sniffer in her younger days, but they retired her because she demanded too much attention, and didn't want to work." He stroked at her ears lovingly. "My friend took in Missy, and had her trained as a seeing-eye dog, as his wife was blind. Most unfortunately, she passed away just a few weeks ago. Ralph was happy enough to have Missy working again, as she was quite depressed at Raquel's death."
"I see," Lex said in disgust. "I imagine you'll be returning to the city soon then."
"Oh, quite the opposite, Lex. The estate is the perfect place for her to roam as she pleases. We'll be staying here for quite awhile, I believe."
Lex bit his lip, but quickly abandoned that action when his frontal teeth closed on a multitude of scratchy hairs. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. If you'll recall, mother's little terrier, Lucy, we were forced to bequeath upon our neighbours in Metropolis after we learned I was allergic. That thing certainly cannot stay here."
Ignorant of Lex's point, Lionel struck up an argument. "You speak fondly of Lucy, and yet spurn Missy? I have never known you to be so cold, Lex."
"Oh forget it!" Lex cried, throwing his arms up in abandonment. "What a ridiculous conversation: I can't believe we're discussing animals like this. Do what you like with your dog, but keep her out of here!"
Missy sauntered over to her master's son and licked his hand tenderly; Lex let out a yelp of disgust, and stomped into the bathroom, leaving a self-satisfied Lionel behind.
"I just don't believe it. You.you're Lana," Chloe breathed. "This is just unheard of."
"Now don't go publishing this in the paper," Clark warned her, wrapping a protective arm around Lana's shoulders. "She's upset enough. It was all I could do to get her to come to school this morning."
At that, Chloe's mouth dropped open. The reaction she had raised from Clark shocked her more than the news about Lana. Partly insulted, partly injured, she rebuffed. "I'm a reporter, Clark Kent, not a gossip- columnist. And I would never spread harmful news about my friends."
"I know you wouldn't, Chloe." Lana smiled sadly. "You're a good friend."
"Thank you." Chloe shot Clark a triumphant glance, but he was too involved in examining Lana's anguish-etched face to notice. She quickly changed the subject. "So, uh, how did Nell take the news?" Immediately following the release of the words, Chloe felt horrid for digging deeper into Lana's personal life, and only to alter the conversation from a path related to her. Maybe Clark had been right to question her motive, for she was truly a reporter at heart. But wasn't she first a friend?
"Well she wasn't at all surprised," Lana explained, her voice soft. Discussing the matter was certainly not on her list of favourite things to do. It was painful, showering her with regrets and sorrows abound.and with questions: what to do now?
"You see," she continued, "Nell is the one who insisted I see a doctor. She was worried my symptoms might have something to do with the trauma of the storm last spring," -she shot Clark a meaningful look, which he innocently ignored- "or so she said. Of course, she suspected otherwise. But when we found out for certain last night, she just broke down into this utter silence." Lana's eyes brimmed with both tears and uncontrollable rage. She began to expound in a much louder and expressive voice, which wavered every few words. "Last night I didn't sleep; I could only think about how I've let down Nell - and just when she was getting to be so happy with Dean - and of course how I've let down myself! The only rational decision I can force myself to come to at this point is that I can't go home tonight."
"Lana's going to be staying at my place for awhile," Clark explained to Chloe. "At least until she comes to -"
At once, Chloe tuned out, absorbed in her own thoughts. Lana would be staying with the Kents? With Clark? What did it mean? Was Clark.?
A terrible bell rang clearly, interrupting the ghastly thought. Chloe jerked herself from her questioning mind.
"Well, I'm off to gym. Lana, I'll meet you at my locker after school, all right?" Clark smiled at her as he backed slowly away from his friends.
Lana nodded, then she and Chloe turned toward their next class.
As they walked in uncomfortable silence, Chloe debated with herself. She just had to know.but had she the gall to ask such a question of such a good friend?.
In rapid decision, she drew in a quick breath. "Does the father know?"
Lana stopped abruptly, and looked at Chloe, sickeningly surprised at Chloe's blatant ability, particularly since it was exposed so soon after she had defended Chloe's character. "Yes, he does." Without another word, she hastened away.
Chloe just looked after her in disbelief and incredible dismay. So it was true.