Clark had been inside the mansion for five minutes now. It wasn't that he was scared to see Lex again—he had just seen him yesterday, after all. But he still stood by the door of Lex's library, debating on whether or not to go in. It wasn't even Lex he was debating about—not really. No, this wasn't about Lex—it was about Chloe. Clark wanted to know what she and Lex had discussed before he made his final decision. If Chloe's working with Lex, or if Lex knows Clark's going to tell her, and Lana lives with Chloe… No, Chloe wouldn't do that, Clark decided. He might not be able to trust Lex yet, but Chloe…

Clark snapped out of his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. This place always did swarm with security at night. It was now or never. He couldn't go inside without risking changing his mind, but he couldn't go home until he knew his mind didn't need changing.

"Clark." Lex was stunned. He hadn't expected Clark to come back to the mansion for quite some time still.

"Lex… hi." Got to love awkward silences. "Sorry I didn't call first…"

"No…. no, it's alright." It took a moment for the shocked look to fade from his face before he remembered they were still having a conversation. Lex stood up and walked past Clark to his mini-refrigerator. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Um… sure."

"Still like that 7-up, V8 juice, chocolate mixture?" he asked wryly.

Clark laughed to himself a little. "You make it sound like that's unusual."

Lex just shook his head. "How you ever can hold that down is beyond me. You must have super digestion abilities." Lex froze. He obviously didn't mean to say that. He was just so used to hinting things abnormal about Clark and then looking for his reaction. It was so natural he didn't realize he did it anymore. But it was definitely something he didn't want to say tonight, after everything that just happened.

Change the conversation, Clark. He tried to find something that didn't have to do with font types. It might have not worked on Lana, but it would really not work on Lex. He did notice something in the room, though.

"This is new," Clark said as he walked to the middle of the room. It looked like a replica of a battlefield, along with miniature soldiers. Some were on foot, others on horses. It was all hand carved, made out of wood. It looked old. Really old.

"It's been here for about a month now," Lex explained. He handed Clark his drink and sat down. "It's part of the 'Exhibit Yanger'."

Clark didn't know a lot, but he did know an exhibit was usually a little bigger. "Where's the rest of the exhibit?"

"In the north wing. I liked this part so much, I moved it in here. It's a nice place for it." Lex looked at Clark. "Helps you think."

Make conversation, Clark. "What do you think about?"

Lex stood up and walked towards the replica. He paused for a moment, and then looked again at Clark. "Do you know what my favorite war story of all time is? There's lots of stories about dragon slayers and no-bodies who became conquerors, and…"

"People who rule the world before 30." Clark interrupted, remembering a conversation they had years ago.

Lex paused. "My favorite, though, is about a teen-ager named Richard Kirkland. He lived during the civil war, when one country was divided, causing brother to fight against brother." Lex looked up at Clark. "Literally." Clark nodded. He knew where Lex was getting at—the north and the south used to be friends. They used to be one. Then they saw things differently. Lies were told, they grew frustrated, and a war erupted. Lex's voice brought Clark back out of his thoughts again. "I can only imagine the anger one must feel when someone they once sided with betrayed them." I can imagine it, Clark thought. They were in a civil war. Lex looked down at the wooden soldiers and thought for a second. "There was a terrible battle one December night. People were falling one by one faster than they could count. They say there's no cry like the ones heard in war." Clark almost winced. He didn't want to hear this tonight. "But you're taught to dismiss them. Feeling anything could only get you killed." Lex turned to face Clark. "But one night a teenaged sergeant had enough. He took a canteen filled with water and crawled, amid the gunfire, over to where his enemy soldiers lay dying. He raised the first one's head up, gave him a drink, and laid his own coat over him to keep him warm. Then he moved on to the next wounded. At first everyone on both sides just stood there amazed." Lex stood a little higher. "Then they began to cheer for who they thought was their enemy. The battle ceased as a 19-year-old boy showed mercy to his foes for over an hour and a half." He leaned on the edge of a chair. "Clark, the dragon slayers, conquerors—people who ruled the world before they were 30—people have a hard time remembering their names and the dates of when it all happened." He looked up at Clark, hoping to make a point. "But they remember stories about people like Kirkland. Because he wasn't just a soldier— to the men on that battlefield, on both sides, he was a hero. "

Clark really wasn't sure what to say. "Wow--how… symbolic."

Lex smiled. By the way Clark was acting, something was up. "But I can't imagine the reason you're here is because you wanted to be first in line to view the exhibit." Lex took a seat. "Not that I mind—you're welcome here anytime—I'm just curious."

Clark looked down. He couldn't tell him why he was really there. "Can't I visit a friend once in a while?" Again he was borrowing words from Lana, but as long as it worked, he didn't care.

Lex raised his eyebrows. "Friend?"

Clark didn't feel like playing games tonight. "Look, Lex, I'm not going to lie to you—it is weird being around you again. I don't know…" he paused. "I don't know what your real motives are."

Lex sat at the edge of his seat. "Clark—I am your friend."

Clark didn't want to be interrupted. "But I've decided to move on."

Lex raised his eyebrows. He waited a moment before commenting. "And how can you be sure you want to do that?" He didn't want to scare Clark away, but he had to force Clark to confront that question if they ever would be friends again.

"It was actually something that Lana said to me.'

Lex smiled. "Why doesn't that surprise me."

Clark stopped when he saw Lex smiling. "We're just friends."

"Of course you are."

Clark paused and eyed Lex. Neither of them really believed that, but Clark went on. He really didn't want to get into that conversation again. "She told me that no one is really who anyone thinks they are," Clark shrugged. "And I guess that's true." Lex looked up at him questioningly. Clark looked down. All this attention wasn't really what he was used to. "Everyone has an idea of who someone else is, and when that illusion is broken, it takes time for people to get over it. You weren't who I thought you were—I'm…" Clark paused. He was about to say something he wasn't supposed to. "I'm moving on."

Lex thought about what to say next. "I applaud your maturity, Clark, but something tells me our friendship's not what brings you here tonight." Clark lowered his gaze. This was supposed to be easier, but he guessed Lex wasn't going to play games tonight, either. "Chloe stopped by earlier." Clark's head snapped up. I guess he really isn't going to play games… Lex looked down at his water. "She told me an interesting story."

Clark was a little nervous. "What was it about?"

"Well, the beginning and middle were pretty good, but the ending hasn't been written yet." So he is playing games… "Mind telling me what's going on?" Maybe not… Clark was having a hard time keeping track of what he was thinking. "Clark?"

Again Clark was brought out of his thoughts. He finally surrendered. A little. "Chloe's mad at me, but I don't know the reason." He looked up at Lex. "Did she tell you?"

Lex watched Clark for a minute before answering. "Clark, I'm going to make this really easy for you. Chloe's mad at you for the same reason Lana is—the same reason you were mad at me."

Clark thought about that for a second. "But that doesn't mak…" He stopped himself. He hated thinking out loud. That answer really didn't make any sense. If Chloe was mad at Clark for being secretive, she should have been glad that Clark wanted to tell her everything.

"Clark, I'm going to make this even easier for you. Don't try to find out about this from me—talk to Chloe." No wonder Chloe was mad at Clark—he was so used to doing anything but actually face a person for answers, that he also didn't realize he was doing it.

Clark nodded. He knew he wasn't getting any further with that conversation. He turned to leave. "Thanks, Lex."

"And Clark?" Clark stopped and turned around. "My opinion is that you can't keep anything a secret forever. Sooner or later, those closest to you will find out. It's just a matter of when and how they'll find out."

Clark had to make it all about Lex again. It was his only defense. "Like that room?" Tread softly, Clark. He softened a little, hoping Lex wouldn't get mad again. "Is that what you learned from all of this?"

Lex paused for a second, thinking. "We can learn something from anything, if we wanted to."

Clark eyed Lex's exhibit. "Even wars?"

Lex smiled to himself. He reached down and picked up a small model of a rider on a horse. He looked at it for a minute-- "The thing we can learn from wars is that wars pass—and friends at first are very often friends at last."