The Heart of a King -- Part 1, Pilot(A) (and some Lineage)
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG-13 (Probably really only PG)
Warnings: Het, Genderbending
Pairing: Lex (sort of )/Clark

A/N: The title comes from a speech that Elizabeth I gave on the launch of her forces against the Spanish Armada. The full quote is I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king. I thought, first, "weak and feeble -- feh!" so limited it to "The Heart and Stomach of a King" part but, ew, so I dropped the "Stomach."
1989

Leo

Leo Luthor was fascinated. She didn't understand half of what her Daddy and the other men were talking about, but nevertheless, she was fascinated.

Why did her Daddy need to sign so many copies of that big, thick, document? What was due diligence? Indemnification?

Someday, she promised herself, she'd know the answers to all of these questions.

help me

The voice was very weak, but it was calling for help and she couldn't ignore it. She went the direction of the cry, which led her into the nearby cornfield.

help . . .

She hurried faster.

She heard her Daddy call out, "Leo! Leo! Cleopatra Luthor! You get right back here!"

But the boy, she was sure it was a boy, was so close. She could almost feel him.

"Le -- !"

When his voice cut off, Leo ran back towards her Daddy. As she turned, she heard a loud whining sound, then a crash that made the earth shake beneath her feet.

With difficulty, from the corn and from her asthma -- and how she wished she didn't have asthma! -- she made it to where her Daddy lay, unconscious. Just then, another crash, and this time she saw it -- a huge rock fell from the sky, landing just on the other side of the next row of corn.

There was no time to waste. She knew she'd never make it back to the factory. And the other men were probably gone anyhow, with rocks falling from the sky. Once she'd calmed down enough to remember the flight in, she figured out which direction the road was. She just hoped she'd find someone with a car.

Jonathan

Jonathan Kent had to get home. He had to drive carefully (not easy with meteors landing all around him) and he had to drive quickly. Beside him, Martha held on to the strange little boy they'd found. The . . . pod that had been near him was in the bed of the truck. He just thanked God that Fred kept a blanket in his truck. This way instead of seeing the glint of metal in his peripheral vision, all he saw was the plaid of the blanket.

Next to him on the bench seat, Martha soothed the strange little boy they'd found, whom they'd wrapped in the red blanket from their own, now totalled, truck.

Jonathan became thankful that he'd been driving so carefully when a little girl in a green dress ran out into the road.

He stopped, killed the engine, and looked over at Martha, "Seems to be the day for abandoned children."

"At least this one's dressed," she said wryly as Jonathan got out of the truck. "We ran out of blankets."

"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked her when he got close enough.

"It's my Daddy. He's been hurt."

"Take me to him."

The little girl led Jonathan into Riley's field, to where a man about Jonathan's age, in an obviously-expensive suit, lay unconscious. "I would have called someone, but Daddy changed the combination on his briefcase again, and I haven't figured out the new one."

Jonathan knew he should check for spinal injuries before picking the man up, but they could be flattened by a falling rock at any time, so there wasn't much time for formalities. He took the man's right shoe off, handing it to the flummoxed girl, and ran a thumb up the man's sole. The man's face twitched, but there was no other response, which in the situation was good enough for Jonathan.

He picked the man up and together, he and the little girl walked back to the truck.

Once they were close to the truck, Martha and the little boy got out.

"I'm going to have to lay him down on the seat next to me. So you . . . ," he paused while he tried to figure out what to call the little boy, "and the kids'll have to ride in the bed."

She nodded and took the little girl's hand. Knowing that Martha had it under control, Jonathan worked on settling the man in on the seat of the cab, feet toward Jonathan, head toward the door. Wishing he could have safely seatbelted the man down, Jonathan closed the door of the cab and walked around the back of the truck, where Martha was sitting in the bed, holding the little boy, the little girl sitting next to her.

He continued his walk to the driver's side door, and started the truck back up.

Martha

Martha leaned back against the pod, hoping the weight of her body would hold the blanket in place.

"I never caught your name," Martha said to the little girl.

"Leo Luthor," she said in a strangely mature tone of voice.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Leo. I'm Martha Kent."

"Is the little boy your son?"

Martha sighed. "No. We found him by the side of the road. We don't know who his parents are." But I wish he was my son, she added silently.

"I'll ask my Daddy. He can help you," she answered as her eyes locked with the little boy's.

Martha wasn't sure how to respond to this, "Thank you," was all she could come up with.

They arrived at the hospital and Jonathan carried the man, Lionel Luthor? Martha wondered silently, into the hospital.

After a moment of internal debate, Martha lowered the tailgate, and she, Leo, and the boy followed.

The hospital was a madhouse. The regular triage window was closed, most likely because the number of injured people between the door and the window made using the window impractical.

After Jonathan had gone off in search of someone, Martha was approached by a woman in a white lab coat. "May I help you?" She looked from Martha to the naked boy in the blanket.

Unconsciously, Martha held the little boy tighter. "My husband's here somewhere, looking for help. This little girl's," she indicated Leo, "father was injured."

The woman crouched down near Leo and took a pad out of her pocket. "First, give me your father's name."

Jonathan

After pacing around for a couple of minutes, finally found a man in a lab coat..

"Here, let me get a gurney," the man said as he disappeared into the back room.
He returned a moment later, and Jonathan laid his burden down.

"I don't know who this guy is. His daughter flagged us down. But I checked for a Babinsky's reflex and he doesn't have one, so I'm pretty sure his spine's all right."

"Where is she?"

Jonathan looked around, "Over there somewhere."

"What color hair does she have?"

"Red."

"Ah. I think I see her."

He disappeared into the crowd and returned a moment later, dragging Martha, the little boy, the little girl, and a woman in a lab coat behind him.

"This is Mr. Luthor?" The woman asked as the girl ran forward.

"Daddy!" She almost shouted, running to the prone figure of her father.

The man in the lab coat looked astonished as he looked from Martha to the little girl and back. "And you're . . ."

"Martha Kent."

"Another radiation burn just walked in," the man sighed as he headed for the sliding doors that led to the emergency room.

After he disappeared, the woman in the lab coat said, "I'll transcribe the information on Mr. Luthor to a chart and look him over before transferring him up to a room. Then I'll call Mrs. Luthor. Unfortunately, every available space we have is taken up right now, so we don't have any room for Leo . . ."

"Don't worry." Martha assured her. "We'll take her home with us. You can call us to bring her back when Mrs. Luthor gets to town. Here's our number."

Jonathan knew that Martha had a frustrated maternal instinct, but this was getting ridiculous. "And what about the boy?" He asked.

Martha's eyes shot to him.

"What about him?" The woman asked. "I thought he was your son."

"No. We just found him out there in the storm. I suppose his people are looking for him."

"Oh. Well, you don't mind taking him for a while, do you? I'll have Melinda call Social Services and a social worker should be out to see you tomorrow," she looked around, "or the next day," she added dubiously.

Jonathan pursed his lips, but couldn't come up with an argument to this. He nodded curtly. "That'll be fine."

Then he hustled the other three back to the truck.

Lionel

The first words Lionel heard upon waking were, "Mr. Luthor's in no shape to be receiving any visitors."

"Let Mr. Luthor be the judge of that," Lionel said through a froggy throat.

Moment later, two African-American men burst through the door. "We've changed our minds about the sale, Luthor."

"I'm afraid it's too late," Lionel's voice was getting stronger by the moment, "the definitive agreement's been signed, and can only be terminated if . . . "

"But you wandered off before signing all of the copies of the agreement. Duncan's copy . . . ."

"I have all of our signatures on my copy, which is safe in my briefcase," he blustered, hoping that his briefcase was still safe, "so I'm afraid it'd be up to you to prove that the three of you didn't just sign a blank sheet and affix it to the back of one of your copies. If you try to get out of that, I will sue you for breach of contract. Good afternoon," he dismissed them.

The two men were to the door when Lionel stopped them, "Oh, and I'm going to look into that attractive nuisance in your neighbor's cornfield."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"That little crucifixion scene. Or is that your own property? If so, I'm sure the police will enjoy investigating. Have a nice day, gentlemen."

The two men left, and, sure he wouldn't be hearing any complaints about his offering price again, Lionel slept.

Lillian

It was late by the time Lillian arrived at the Smallville Medical Center. Lionel had been asleep, and the staff wanted to keep him over night for observation. They thought he only had a sprained ankle and a slight concussion, but some people were coming in with strange symptoms from the meteor shower, and they didn't want to release him until they were certain that he wouldn't require further treatment.

So it was that Lillian came to be driving up the road to the butter-yellow farmhouse. She hadn't been able to call ahead, the phone lines had been down, but she was certain that she was in the right place when she saw the sign hanging above the gate reading Kent Farm.

She walked to the door and, mindful of the late hour, knocked softly.

A moment later, a woman with red hair opened the door. It was, strangely, almost like looking in a mirror. "Mrs. Kent?" She asked.

"Yes. Oh! You're Mrs. Luthor, aren't you? Won't you come in."

Mrs. Kent stepped out of the way, and suddenly, 60 pounds of nine-year-old girl nearly bowled her over. "Mother!" Leo cried holding on tightly.

Lillian finally let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Reunited with her baby. Their relationship wasn't always a smooth one, but she loved Leo, and would do anything for her.

"Get anything you brought with you. They're keeping Daddy, so we'll go get a hotel room in town for tonight."

"Oh! You don't need to do that!" Martha hastened to say. "In fact, the Smallville Arms might not even be open, considering all that's happened. Our second bedroom has a double bed in it. You can sleep there."

"What about your son?" Lillian indicated a little boy in a blue shirt playing on the floor.

Something unreadable passed between the elder Kents, and Martha said, "He's not our son. He's sort of a . . . stray I took in. He was wandering around in the meteor shower, and we couldn't see where his folks could be, so we brought him home."

"Mrs. Kent wants to adopt him," Leo said, straightforwardly. "Can you help her?"

Lillian smiled at her daughter. "I know some people in Metropolis Social Services. I'll see what I can do."

Next: Pilot(B) -- 2001