Title: Onto Eternity
Author: Joani
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If only I owned Lex and Clark. What delicious things I could
do.
Clark didn't acknowledge Lois as she came in the front door, her arms full of groceries, didn't notice when she gave his back an odd look before walking out again.
He was on the balcony of their small Metropolis apartment, looking out at the dark, miserable skyline, whose lights twinkled like mysterious eyes, holding him in suspicion and mistrust.
He didn't like this city, he repeated to himself as he sipped Glenfiddich, neat. The alcohol didn't even do anything for him, he regretted. He just liked the taste. Yet another curse of Krypton.
Clark rolled the idea around in his mind for a little - the Curse of Krypton. He chuckled as he pondered selling the idea to Hollywood. Couldn't hurt him anymore than his guise of Superman did.
But how could movie-goers believe in a hero when they saw him, dressed in flannel and worn out jeans, sipping scotch on his balcony of a regular little apartment?
Lex would love the irony.
Clark stilled at that thought. The tumbler stopped halfway to his lips as he remembered seeing Lex, half a month ago, on a sunny day in the middle of the crowd.
His eyes had been trained on Lex, and slowly, Lex had turned to watch him. Their eyes had held, and slowly, Lex raised his right hand. On the third finger, there was a gold band, but in that gold, a flash of green that made Clark weak at the knees with an unpleasant feeling of forboding.
Clark had looked at the ring, then back to Lex, whose face had been full of bitter anger, sadness, and perhaps a hint of regret, that Clark couldn't had fled the crowd faster without flying.
Leaving that memory, Clark sighed. He still couldn't tell Perry why he hadn't gotten the story about LexCor's shiny new business enterprise, and he still wasn't forgiven.
Lois came back in and stared at him a moment longer. Clark didn't move. Tonight was for him, this miserable, life-swallowing vortex of a city, and his memories.
He still wasn't forgiven, and if Lex's expression had been any sign, Clark would have a long way to go before Lex did forgive him. If he ever did.
Lex knew. And he was angry.
Clark wasn't sure what hurt more. The idea that Lex couldn't forgive him, or the idea that it was Clark's secrets that had caused the rift.
But, he considered, his secrets were necessary.
On the other hand, whispered an insidious little voice, Lex was his best friend, like Pete. Couldn't he tell Lex what he'd revealed to Pete?
Clark shook his head and sipped again at the scotch. Hah, that little voice said, something from your younger years, watching Lex drink it. You trust him to have good taste, but not to have secrecy.
Clark frowned and tried to quiet that voice, but it was an insistant bugger. Like a certain reporter he was living with.
Perhaps it had been unnecessary, he considered, to stay the brick wall to Lex's curiosity. Perhaps he could have given a little, revealed a bit so as to satisfy Lex's need to know.
Then, Lex might have stayed in Smallville, might have stayed Clark's best friend...
But then, where would Clark and Lex be now?
And then, who would defend the small voices, crying into the nauseating void of this city for help?
As one such scream cut the air to reach Clark's sensitive ears, he sighed quietly. Then, maybe he wouldn't be alone in this crusade.
As he set down his glass and moved back inside to change, Clark considered. Where to from here?
He didn't know.
Maybe, onto eternity.
Clark didn't acknowledge Lois as she came in the front door, her arms full of groceries, didn't notice when she gave his back an odd look before walking out again.
He was on the balcony of their small Metropolis apartment, looking out at the dark, miserable skyline, whose lights twinkled like mysterious eyes, holding him in suspicion and mistrust.
He didn't like this city, he repeated to himself as he sipped Glenfiddich, neat. The alcohol didn't even do anything for him, he regretted. He just liked the taste. Yet another curse of Krypton.
Clark rolled the idea around in his mind for a little - the Curse of Krypton. He chuckled as he pondered selling the idea to Hollywood. Couldn't hurt him anymore than his guise of Superman did.
But how could movie-goers believe in a hero when they saw him, dressed in flannel and worn out jeans, sipping scotch on his balcony of a regular little apartment?
Lex would love the irony.
Clark stilled at that thought. The tumbler stopped halfway to his lips as he remembered seeing Lex, half a month ago, on a sunny day in the middle of the crowd.
His eyes had been trained on Lex, and slowly, Lex had turned to watch him. Their eyes had held, and slowly, Lex raised his right hand. On the third finger, there was a gold band, but in that gold, a flash of green that made Clark weak at the knees with an unpleasant feeling of forboding.
Clark had looked at the ring, then back to Lex, whose face had been full of bitter anger, sadness, and perhaps a hint of regret, that Clark couldn't had fled the crowd faster without flying.
Leaving that memory, Clark sighed. He still couldn't tell Perry why he hadn't gotten the story about LexCor's shiny new business enterprise, and he still wasn't forgiven.
Lois came back in and stared at him a moment longer. Clark didn't move. Tonight was for him, this miserable, life-swallowing vortex of a city, and his memories.
He still wasn't forgiven, and if Lex's expression had been any sign, Clark would have a long way to go before Lex did forgive him. If he ever did.
Lex knew. And he was angry.
Clark wasn't sure what hurt more. The idea that Lex couldn't forgive him, or the idea that it was Clark's secrets that had caused the rift.
But, he considered, his secrets were necessary.
On the other hand, whispered an insidious little voice, Lex was his best friend, like Pete. Couldn't he tell Lex what he'd revealed to Pete?
Clark shook his head and sipped again at the scotch. Hah, that little voice said, something from your younger years, watching Lex drink it. You trust him to have good taste, but not to have secrecy.
Clark frowned and tried to quiet that voice, but it was an insistant bugger. Like a certain reporter he was living with.
Perhaps it had been unnecessary, he considered, to stay the brick wall to Lex's curiosity. Perhaps he could have given a little, revealed a bit so as to satisfy Lex's need to know.
Then, Lex might have stayed in Smallville, might have stayed Clark's best friend...
But then, where would Clark and Lex be now?
And then, who would defend the small voices, crying into the nauseating void of this city for help?
As one such scream cut the air to reach Clark's sensitive ears, he sighed quietly. Then, maybe he wouldn't be alone in this crusade.
As he set down his glass and moved back inside to change, Clark considered. Where to from here?
He didn't know.
Maybe, onto eternity.
