Title: End of the Road
Author: Joani
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If only I owned Lex and Clark. What delicious things I could
do.
Where to go when you reach the end of the road, Lex decided, was more complex than left or right.
In fact, it might be right up there with astrophysics.
He watched the shadows cast their gloomy shawls over the city of Metropolis, broken by the twinkling stars of the streetlights below, from his office.
It had been one of those Fridays that just meant so much to end, that the sense of relief still flavoured the air.
He was the last one here, in the building , of course, except for security. It was in the calm stillness of his office, in the windstorm that was metropolis, that Lex could collect his thoughts.
Clark was fucking Superman. No, that wasn't right. Lex restructured his thought. Clark was Superman. Not, Lex pondered with a slight grin, that this was much of a surprise.
It actually made far too much sense, to Lex. It wasn't enough that Clark had made it abundantly clear, through his little faux-pas, that he wasn't normal. Lex had known since waking up in a stream, revived by the one person who should be quite dead in the incident.
But then Clark had lied about it. It was one thing to avoid speaking of something, to Lex. He had done that for years with his own father. It was quite another to go right ahead and lie about facts that couldn't be lied about. It was like telling a blind man who hears a tsunami, that he's going to get a little wet.
Lex left the window, fixed himself a scotch, and sat down at his desk. His free hand absently caressed the edges of the manila envelope sitting dead centre on the cherrywood surface.
The envelope held pictures, pictures of Clark. Pictures of Superman. Lex's own tally of similarities and differences. The latter was a short list.
It hadn't taken Lex long to figure that the one difference listed - glasses - was a common disguise. In fact, he was surprised that was all Clark could think of.
He looked at the manila envelope and smiled. The secret was out now. Nothing to hide.
The end of the road.
Now what?
Lex slowly came to his conclusion and his smile turned grim. Lifting his glass in a salute to the envelope's contents, he stood, finishing his drink, and took the envelope with him as he crossed the room.
Just insert at the top, hear the machine grind a little - in less than five seconds, all those pictures were lining for a hamster cage.
Lex stood at the paper shredder, lost in thought.
This was it. The end.
Now, onto the point of no return.
He went back to his drink tray and fixed another scotch.
Moving to the window, Lex saluted the sky.
"To the friendship legends were made of, Clark," he said quietly, perhaps with a trace of remorse, "And the enmity that could destroy the world."
He drained the glass in one fell swoop, threw the glass away and stalked out of his office, not bothering to turn the lights out.
Now, onto eternity.
Where to go when you reach the end of the road, Lex decided, was more complex than left or right.
In fact, it might be right up there with astrophysics.
He watched the shadows cast their gloomy shawls over the city of Metropolis, broken by the twinkling stars of the streetlights below, from his office.
It had been one of those Fridays that just meant so much to end, that the sense of relief still flavoured the air.
He was the last one here, in the building , of course, except for security. It was in the calm stillness of his office, in the windstorm that was metropolis, that Lex could collect his thoughts.
Clark was fucking Superman. No, that wasn't right. Lex restructured his thought. Clark was Superman. Not, Lex pondered with a slight grin, that this was much of a surprise.
It actually made far too much sense, to Lex. It wasn't enough that Clark had made it abundantly clear, through his little faux-pas, that he wasn't normal. Lex had known since waking up in a stream, revived by the one person who should be quite dead in the incident.
But then Clark had lied about it. It was one thing to avoid speaking of something, to Lex. He had done that for years with his own father. It was quite another to go right ahead and lie about facts that couldn't be lied about. It was like telling a blind man who hears a tsunami, that he's going to get a little wet.
Lex left the window, fixed himself a scotch, and sat down at his desk. His free hand absently caressed the edges of the manila envelope sitting dead centre on the cherrywood surface.
The envelope held pictures, pictures of Clark. Pictures of Superman. Lex's own tally of similarities and differences. The latter was a short list.
It hadn't taken Lex long to figure that the one difference listed - glasses - was a common disguise. In fact, he was surprised that was all Clark could think of.
He looked at the manila envelope and smiled. The secret was out now. Nothing to hide.
The end of the road.
Now what?
Lex slowly came to his conclusion and his smile turned grim. Lifting his glass in a salute to the envelope's contents, he stood, finishing his drink, and took the envelope with him as he crossed the room.
Just insert at the top, hear the machine grind a little - in less than five seconds, all those pictures were lining for a hamster cage.
Lex stood at the paper shredder, lost in thought.
This was it. The end.
Now, onto the point of no return.
He went back to his drink tray and fixed another scotch.
Moving to the window, Lex saluted the sky.
"To the friendship legends were made of, Clark," he said quietly, perhaps with a trace of remorse, "And the enmity that could destroy the world."
He drained the glass in one fell swoop, threw the glass away and stalked out of his office, not bothering to turn the lights out.
Now, onto eternity.
