1 Hourglass
"Hello."
"Lex?"
"Lilly. Hi."
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. What do you want?"
"I called to see how you were doing."
"I'm fine."
"You certainly sound like it."
"I'm *fine*."
"Something happened. You call every other day, it seems like, and gloat about whatever it is you're doing."
"Your point?"
"No gloating for, like, a week."
"As much as I would love to discuss my gloating schedule with you, I can't talk. I've got a business to run right now—"
"I'm going to keep calling you until you talk to me."
"You do that."
*
"All right. Okay. I'll talk."
"Lex?"
"I thought you bought Caller ID."
"I did. Old habits die hard. What happened?"
"I… think I might have killed somebody."
"Okay."
Silence.
"Maybe you ought to elaborate on that."
"Clark had been talking about this old woman he knew. From a local home. And I went to visit her. She, um, died."
"While you were there?"
"Yes."
"That's awful."
"That's not—the worst. She had a… reputation. She said she could see people's futures. And I asked her to—this is ridiculous—I asked her to see mine. And when she did, it killed her."
"Lex. It didn't kill her. Your future didn't kill her. She was old. Old people die all the time."
"Well, that's one argument against aging."
"What I mean is, if you'd made a loud noise behind her, she might have had a heart attack. And maybe it was just her time, and it was an unfortunate coincidence."
"Maybe."
"Hey, you're talking to a teenager here. And teenagers, once they express an opinion, are never wrong. Besides, since when did you start believing that people could tell the future?"
"Since… since moving here. This place is getting to me."
"I agree. You need to come visit for a few days. Stop brooding. You can visit everybody who's been asking about you."
"Like who?"
"Well, Bruce was in town a couple of days ago."
"Was he?"
"He was. And he took me to a very nice restaurant, too. He said to say hello."
"Thanks."
"He's still just as weird as ever."
"I believe that. He never was completely—"
"Sane?"
"Normal."
"Poh-tay-toe, Poh-tah-toe."
"Yes, indeed. So."
"It'll be okay."
"You weren't there, Lilly. The—I was holding her *hand*, and when I let go, it just… fell."
"Oh."
"I've been compulsively washing my hands all week."
"You're like Lady MacBeth."
"You keep effeminizing me, do you know that?"
"I'm sorry about what happened. Come home for a few days and pay attention to me. I want to be co-dependent for a while."
"I can't. I have obligations here."
"Obligations, shmobligations. Come on."
"Nell's having a birthday party for her niece at the mansion in a few days. I have to stay and oversee everything."
"Really."
"Don't start, Lilly."
"Nasty Nell's niece is having a birthday party at your house."
"Yes."
"And you're helping her, rather than spending a weekend with me."
"Yes."
"And you don't want me to start."
"No, I don't. She asked it as a personal favor."
"Can I come?"
"As much as I would love to invite you, all the invitations have already been sent out and there just isn't room for anyone else."
"Are you saying that I can't come down to Smallville this weekend, just to see my beloved sibling, and crash the party purely by accident?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"You're afraid I'm going to spill the beans to Clark about your crush on him."
"I am not. And I don't have a crush on him."
"You suck."
"That's what all the rumors say."
"Heh. How's the factory?"
"Doing remarkably well. Have I told you about Gabe yet?"
"No. Who's Gabe?"
"The plant manager. You'd like him. I think I know more about his daughter than I do about how the plant works, at this point."
"Is she cute?"
"What, are you batting for the other team now?"
"No. I'm trying to get you interested in someone who isn't fifteen so that you can have some fun while you're exiled in No Man's Land."
"Well, the daughter's fifteen, too, so that's not going to work out. But thanks for the thought."
"Gah. Do twentysomethings even exist in Smallville? Or do they somehow go from teenager to wrinkled old farmhand in a matter of months?"
"My secretary's about my age, but she's involved."
"Since when has that ever stopped you?"
"She's not really my type, either. And I haven't had much time to be social."
"Yet you have time to plan a birthday party for some girl you don't even like."
"I like her just fine. She's just… distressingly dense when it comes to romance."
"So are you. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to start shipping girls over."
"I'm begging you not to do that."
"Hmm. Maybe I'll see if Victoria's in town."
"Lilly—"
"I'm kidding. But seriously—don't go into hibernation. It's a bad habit we have, of retreating into our little shells. Go to a club or something."
"I don't think Smallville has clubs."
"Then build one. Something to get you out and about."
"Speaking of which, how did your dinner with Bryan go?"
"Oh. Really, really well."
"Oh,*really*?"
"Not that well. I mean, I'm still—not going to have this conversation with my brother. But he's great."
"So this is why you're trying to get me fixed up with someone."
"I'm just trying to spread the joy of smoochies."
"Thanks for the thought, but I'll stick with my current regime."
"I don't even want to know what your current regime is. Anyway—are you feeling any better?"
"Yes. Thanks."
"I'm probably the only person you thank, any more."
"You want me to keep doing it, or not?"
"Whatever. You're welcome. And I'm really sorry."
"It's not your fault. I wish I could blame it on you."
"If that floats your boat."
"I'll talk to you soon. I promise."
"Oh, you'll see me on Saturday."
"I'd better not."
"Bye!"
"Lilly—"
"Hello."
"Lex?"
"Lilly. Hi."
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. What do you want?"
"I called to see how you were doing."
"I'm fine."
"You certainly sound like it."
"I'm *fine*."
"Something happened. You call every other day, it seems like, and gloat about whatever it is you're doing."
"Your point?"
"No gloating for, like, a week."
"As much as I would love to discuss my gloating schedule with you, I can't talk. I've got a business to run right now—"
"I'm going to keep calling you until you talk to me."
"You do that."
*
"All right. Okay. I'll talk."
"Lex?"
"I thought you bought Caller ID."
"I did. Old habits die hard. What happened?"
"I… think I might have killed somebody."
"Okay."
Silence.
"Maybe you ought to elaborate on that."
"Clark had been talking about this old woman he knew. From a local home. And I went to visit her. She, um, died."
"While you were there?"
"Yes."
"That's awful."
"That's not—the worst. She had a… reputation. She said she could see people's futures. And I asked her to—this is ridiculous—I asked her to see mine. And when she did, it killed her."
"Lex. It didn't kill her. Your future didn't kill her. She was old. Old people die all the time."
"Well, that's one argument against aging."
"What I mean is, if you'd made a loud noise behind her, she might have had a heart attack. And maybe it was just her time, and it was an unfortunate coincidence."
"Maybe."
"Hey, you're talking to a teenager here. And teenagers, once they express an opinion, are never wrong. Besides, since when did you start believing that people could tell the future?"
"Since… since moving here. This place is getting to me."
"I agree. You need to come visit for a few days. Stop brooding. You can visit everybody who's been asking about you."
"Like who?"
"Well, Bruce was in town a couple of days ago."
"Was he?"
"He was. And he took me to a very nice restaurant, too. He said to say hello."
"Thanks."
"He's still just as weird as ever."
"I believe that. He never was completely—"
"Sane?"
"Normal."
"Poh-tay-toe, Poh-tah-toe."
"Yes, indeed. So."
"It'll be okay."
"You weren't there, Lilly. The—I was holding her *hand*, and when I let go, it just… fell."
"Oh."
"I've been compulsively washing my hands all week."
"You're like Lady MacBeth."
"You keep effeminizing me, do you know that?"
"I'm sorry about what happened. Come home for a few days and pay attention to me. I want to be co-dependent for a while."
"I can't. I have obligations here."
"Obligations, shmobligations. Come on."
"Nell's having a birthday party for her niece at the mansion in a few days. I have to stay and oversee everything."
"Really."
"Don't start, Lilly."
"Nasty Nell's niece is having a birthday party at your house."
"Yes."
"And you're helping her, rather than spending a weekend with me."
"Yes."
"And you don't want me to start."
"No, I don't. She asked it as a personal favor."
"Can I come?"
"As much as I would love to invite you, all the invitations have already been sent out and there just isn't room for anyone else."
"Are you saying that I can't come down to Smallville this weekend, just to see my beloved sibling, and crash the party purely by accident?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"You're afraid I'm going to spill the beans to Clark about your crush on him."
"I am not. And I don't have a crush on him."
"You suck."
"That's what all the rumors say."
"Heh. How's the factory?"
"Doing remarkably well. Have I told you about Gabe yet?"
"No. Who's Gabe?"
"The plant manager. You'd like him. I think I know more about his daughter than I do about how the plant works, at this point."
"Is she cute?"
"What, are you batting for the other team now?"
"No. I'm trying to get you interested in someone who isn't fifteen so that you can have some fun while you're exiled in No Man's Land."
"Well, the daughter's fifteen, too, so that's not going to work out. But thanks for the thought."
"Gah. Do twentysomethings even exist in Smallville? Or do they somehow go from teenager to wrinkled old farmhand in a matter of months?"
"My secretary's about my age, but she's involved."
"Since when has that ever stopped you?"
"She's not really my type, either. And I haven't had much time to be social."
"Yet you have time to plan a birthday party for some girl you don't even like."
"I like her just fine. She's just… distressingly dense when it comes to romance."
"So are you. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to start shipping girls over."
"I'm begging you not to do that."
"Hmm. Maybe I'll see if Victoria's in town."
"Lilly—"
"I'm kidding. But seriously—don't go into hibernation. It's a bad habit we have, of retreating into our little shells. Go to a club or something."
"I don't think Smallville has clubs."
"Then build one. Something to get you out and about."
"Speaking of which, how did your dinner with Bryan go?"
"Oh. Really, really well."
"Oh,*really*?"
"Not that well. I mean, I'm still—not going to have this conversation with my brother. But he's great."
"So this is why you're trying to get me fixed up with someone."
"I'm just trying to spread the joy of smoochies."
"Thanks for the thought, but I'll stick with my current regime."
"I don't even want to know what your current regime is. Anyway—are you feeling any better?"
"Yes. Thanks."
"I'm probably the only person you thank, any more."
"You want me to keep doing it, or not?"
"Whatever. You're welcome. And I'm really sorry."
"It's not your fault. I wish I could blame it on you."
"If that floats your boat."
"I'll talk to you soon. I promise."
"Oh, you'll see me on Saturday."
"I'd better not."
"Bye!"
"Lilly—"