Lex's mind was still too busy to sleep and at least for now, seemed to have the override veto over his body. He got out of bed, reached for his robe, and padded into the kitchen, for lack of a better destination. Or, he corrected himself, for lack of a better and ethical destination. The room where Lana slept offered definite attractions.
He'd decided, and only occasionally regretted it, to wait for Lana to make the first move towards sleeping together. At least he was able to eroticize the waiting, turning it into anticipation and watching her advance towards it like an exploring kitten, wide-eyed and enticed but not quite ready to venture more than a few inches at a time.
After rooting aimlessly in the cupboards, he decided on something his mother made for him when he couldn't sleep, milk with just enough tea to warm it and turn it a soft biscuit color and enough honey to make it not only sweet but leave a warmth in the throat. He rarely made it, not wanting to fade even a trace of the memory of her hands, the sound of her robe as it whispered with each movement she made. But tonight it was worth spilling a little of the essence. Wrapping his hands around the mug, he sat in the living room to drink, then noticed a pallid light from the room he'd put Clark in.
Oh, good. Just as he'd stilled the questions and speculations in his mind, the thought of the boy made them pop right back up. Deciding that he might as well see if there were any answers to be found now, he put the mug down and walked quietly to the open door. The light wasn't turned on; instead, the city's lights filtered in dimly, enough for him to see the shape of Clark's silhouette.
Lex's mind sifted through all the sculptors who might best capture his pose, the sense of physical immobility as Clark sat, upright and rigid, but the sense of powerful, agitated forces pouring through underneath, like water underneath ice. Rodin was too yielding, Michelangelo too fluid, classical sculptors too dramatic, Bernini too fleshy. Perhaps a sculptor of ancient Egypt could have captured it.
"Clark." It was almost as though he had to call the restless mind back to its body, to give it a name.
Clark jumped and then got up, coming towards Lex, eyes lowered. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was supposed to..." His voice trailed off.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"No. Do you want me to-" He looked briefly at Lex.
Lex cut him off. "Are you up for some questions?"
"A debriefing? Yes."
He had to tread carefully here, try to lever Clark away from his past, tiny effort by tiny effort. "Not a debriefing," he assured Clark with a smile. "Just some questions. A talk." It was fascinating to see Clark digest the concept, he could imagine so clearly the way he was trying to process it. Not a debriefing, not a report, not being tested, not being taught. Just *talking*. Clark nodded and Lex led him to the living room. He sat on the leather sofa in a deliberately relaxed pose, legs tucked under himself, and waited until Clark sat and had shifted slightly.
"You have extraordinary physical abilities, Clark. Do you have any unusual mental abilities? To read minds, or send your thoughts to another person?" He might as well get the wildest possibilities out of the way.
"No." Clark looked at Lex again and added, "Not that I know of."
Lex nodded. "Did you always have these abilities?"
"I think I was always strong and fast but I wasn't always able to set things on fire or freeze things or fly."
"When did you develop those?" *Don't ask how, not yet, don't ask enough that he gets skittish.*
"I was able to look through things maybe four years ago, the other abilities since then."
"Did you get stronger and faster over time?"
"Not really. I mean, I did, but it was more...more like I was learning how to run better and there...there was more of me to be strong." He blinked as if the thoughts had come from nowhere. Lex could imagine that introspection wasn't encouraged.
"So those abilities grew proportionately and your capacity to use them matured?" He amended this, "So they grew as you grew, at about the same rate and you learned how to use them better."
"Yes, that's it." Clark's eyes showed a moment of eagerness. "That's it exactly."
Now the question was whether the other abilities were innate or if they'd been added to him. "Did anything different happen before you developed the new abilities, like the one to see through things?" Clark looked away and Lex hesitated between sternness and coaxing, finally choosing the latter. "Was it something you didn't like?"
"No," Clark responded after a while. "It was after...after I started liking to look at women. I...I wasn't supposed to."
"That's all right. You weren't doing anything wrong." He let that thought settle, then continued. "What about burning things?"
"That, too."
The wretched thing was that the boy's timidity was making him, Lex Luthor, who had seen it all and participated in most, nervous. As nervous as if he were that age again, but with no worldly experience to make the changes make sense, or seeing it in other people near his own age, to fit into a context. He couldn't even bring himself to ask about Clark's puberty. For a scientific investigation, this was a pretty pathetic showing on his part.
Aside from that, it looked like even answering the simply-put questions taxed Clark's resources. He got up. "Okay, that's enough for tonight." Glancing at his wristwatch, he corrected, "Or this morning." Clark also rose and started to return to his room. "Wait a moment, Clark." Lex picked up the mug, which he'd abandoned without drinking from, went into the kitchen, microwaved it for a few seconds, then handed it to the somewhat befuddled Clark. "This might help you sleep. It always worked for me."
Clark looked at the mug, then at Lex, and to Lex's amazement, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Thanks."
AN: Yes, yes, I'm going, the Muse just decided to drop a bunny in my lap mid-packing. Since I couldn't get its ears to fold under my suitcase zipper, I had to release it here.
He'd decided, and only occasionally regretted it, to wait for Lana to make the first move towards sleeping together. At least he was able to eroticize the waiting, turning it into anticipation and watching her advance towards it like an exploring kitten, wide-eyed and enticed but not quite ready to venture more than a few inches at a time.
After rooting aimlessly in the cupboards, he decided on something his mother made for him when he couldn't sleep, milk with just enough tea to warm it and turn it a soft biscuit color and enough honey to make it not only sweet but leave a warmth in the throat. He rarely made it, not wanting to fade even a trace of the memory of her hands, the sound of her robe as it whispered with each movement she made. But tonight it was worth spilling a little of the essence. Wrapping his hands around the mug, he sat in the living room to drink, then noticed a pallid light from the room he'd put Clark in.
Oh, good. Just as he'd stilled the questions and speculations in his mind, the thought of the boy made them pop right back up. Deciding that he might as well see if there were any answers to be found now, he put the mug down and walked quietly to the open door. The light wasn't turned on; instead, the city's lights filtered in dimly, enough for him to see the shape of Clark's silhouette.
Lex's mind sifted through all the sculptors who might best capture his pose, the sense of physical immobility as Clark sat, upright and rigid, but the sense of powerful, agitated forces pouring through underneath, like water underneath ice. Rodin was too yielding, Michelangelo too fluid, classical sculptors too dramatic, Bernini too fleshy. Perhaps a sculptor of ancient Egypt could have captured it.
"Clark." It was almost as though he had to call the restless mind back to its body, to give it a name.
Clark jumped and then got up, coming towards Lex, eyes lowered. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was supposed to..." His voice trailed off.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"No. Do you want me to-" He looked briefly at Lex.
Lex cut him off. "Are you up for some questions?"
"A debriefing? Yes."
He had to tread carefully here, try to lever Clark away from his past, tiny effort by tiny effort. "Not a debriefing," he assured Clark with a smile. "Just some questions. A talk." It was fascinating to see Clark digest the concept, he could imagine so clearly the way he was trying to process it. Not a debriefing, not a report, not being tested, not being taught. Just *talking*. Clark nodded and Lex led him to the living room. He sat on the leather sofa in a deliberately relaxed pose, legs tucked under himself, and waited until Clark sat and had shifted slightly.
"You have extraordinary physical abilities, Clark. Do you have any unusual mental abilities? To read minds, or send your thoughts to another person?" He might as well get the wildest possibilities out of the way.
"No." Clark looked at Lex again and added, "Not that I know of."
Lex nodded. "Did you always have these abilities?"
"I think I was always strong and fast but I wasn't always able to set things on fire or freeze things or fly."
"When did you develop those?" *Don't ask how, not yet, don't ask enough that he gets skittish.*
"I was able to look through things maybe four years ago, the other abilities since then."
"Did you get stronger and faster over time?"
"Not really. I mean, I did, but it was more...more like I was learning how to run better and there...there was more of me to be strong." He blinked as if the thoughts had come from nowhere. Lex could imagine that introspection wasn't encouraged.
"So those abilities grew proportionately and your capacity to use them matured?" He amended this, "So they grew as you grew, at about the same rate and you learned how to use them better."
"Yes, that's it." Clark's eyes showed a moment of eagerness. "That's it exactly."
Now the question was whether the other abilities were innate or if they'd been added to him. "Did anything different happen before you developed the new abilities, like the one to see through things?" Clark looked away and Lex hesitated between sternness and coaxing, finally choosing the latter. "Was it something you didn't like?"
"No," Clark responded after a while. "It was after...after I started liking to look at women. I...I wasn't supposed to."
"That's all right. You weren't doing anything wrong." He let that thought settle, then continued. "What about burning things?"
"That, too."
The wretched thing was that the boy's timidity was making him, Lex Luthor, who had seen it all and participated in most, nervous. As nervous as if he were that age again, but with no worldly experience to make the changes make sense, or seeing it in other people near his own age, to fit into a context. He couldn't even bring himself to ask about Clark's puberty. For a scientific investigation, this was a pretty pathetic showing on his part.
Aside from that, it looked like even answering the simply-put questions taxed Clark's resources. He got up. "Okay, that's enough for tonight." Glancing at his wristwatch, he corrected, "Or this morning." Clark also rose and started to return to his room. "Wait a moment, Clark." Lex picked up the mug, which he'd abandoned without drinking from, went into the kitchen, microwaved it for a few seconds, then handed it to the somewhat befuddled Clark. "This might help you sleep. It always worked for me."
Clark looked at the mug, then at Lex, and to Lex's amazement, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Thanks."
AN: Yes, yes, I'm going, the Muse just decided to drop a bunny in my lap mid-packing. Since I couldn't get its ears to fold under my suitcase zipper, I had to release it here.
