Notes: To those who have embraced the darkness, Muse and I thank you.
Ruby Truth - Valentine Michel Smith
Gwen's eyes rolled back, then closed momentarily as she pulled away. Her head lolled, her lips curled. Utter. Complete. Bliss.
One lazy eye opened. She looked up into Clark's face and saw a similar expression.
Gwen's last cogent thought: she would do anything to feel like this again.
Lex stood on the Kent porch. He saw Pete and Martha through the window, seated wordlessly at the kitchen table. He reached for the door handle, pulled, and discovered -- much to his surprise -- that the door was locked. A sure sign something was horribly, horribly wrong in the Kent household. As if he had any doubts after finding the body of Jonathan Kent.
Lex rang the bell. "Mrs. Kent?"
Pete's eyes narrowed involuntarily. Martha Kent rose, stopping as Pete touched her lightly on the hand.
"Pete..." She tilted her head. "I'm... It's all right."
Pete wanted to say something, but all he had were suspicions. Besides, if she hadn't listened to her own husband about Lex, why should she listen to a high school kid? Pete had watched Martha Kent navigate treacherous waters on other occasions. He decided Mrs. K. had what it took to handle Lex readily.
Pete withdrew his hand and nodded. He watched Martha Kent cross the house and shook his head. Luthor's timing was, as always, impeccable. How was it Lex always managed to turn up at wholly inappropriate moments anyway?
Martha checked herself in the hall mirror as she made her way to the door. Not exactly a vision of perfection, but passable for her son's --.
Son... Husband...
Martha's breath hitched, stopping her momentarily. She focused, drawing air deeply. She exhaled and continued.
The door swung open minimally. Lex started into the house only to find his entry attempt thwarted. Curious, he stepped back. "Sorry to stop by without calling."
Martha's head dipped politely.
Lex continued. "I wanted to check back and see how things were with Clark. He didn't come back to the mansion. Is he... here?"
"No." The word was thick, devoid of Martha Kent's characteristic maternal warmth. Preoccupation or emotional distancing?
Lex made a mental note.
"Have I interrupted something?"
"No." The Martha Kent with whom Lex was familiar percolated to the surface. "But I've got -- "
" -- Pete."
"He's like family, but I still --"
Lex shook his head knowingly. "Wouldn't want to be rude. And I would not want to contribute. I understand completely." Lex shifted, taking a quarter-step. He stopped. "You take care." The utterance came with such sincerity, it made Martha's heart stop. "And if you need anything, anything, you call me, you understand?
Martha sifted through emotions. It occurred to her as Martha studied Lex's clear blue eyes: Was it possible he knew something? What she said was: "Thank you, Lex."
Martha patted him gently on the arm, then headed back into the house, closing the door gently behind her.
On his way down the porch steps, Lex noticed the meteor rocks. He turned back to the house to see if anyone would see him as he leaned over to collect one.
The coast was clear.