Perfection

by Phaze

Lex is enjoying Christmas with his closes friends and family, so of course all cannot be right with the world. Complete. Please R&R

4. Chapter Four

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Storytc "Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story"

Chapter Four:

He heard the footsteps approaching but made no effort to acknowledge them or even look up from his stare at the laptop monitor that sat on his knees. The loft was freezing cold but he still kept the top half of the hay loading door open as a soft gentle snow fell outside. He wore only his new Christmas sweater given to him on the last day of school by Chloe for warmth, but showed no signs of being cold.

"Clark?" His mother's gentle voice called from the top of the staircase as she and his father approached. "Didn't you hear us calling you for dinner?"

His only response was a slight tilting of his head twice. His eyes were dry, but it was apparent that he might have been recently crying which his sniffing once after the nod made all the more assuredly.

"I made all your Christmas Eve dinner favorites just like you like," Martha tried to coax her son from his funk.

He nodded once more.

"Come on, son," Jonathan tried to be jovial. "It's Christmas Eve. Couldn't you show a little more excitement than sitting up here in the freezing cold doing your homework?"

Clark looked up from the corner of his eye. "It's not homework, dad."

"Well, that's good to hear," Jonathan smiled. "I hate to think you are wasting your Christmas break doing school work."

"You'll have to forgive your father," Martha took the seat to Clark's left on the weather beaten sofa with a playful smile. "This is the man who would close his books the day before Thanksgiving and not opening them up again until some time about Washington's Birthday."

"That's not true," Jonathan defended himself. "It was closer to mid January."

They both watched eagerly to see if Clark would join in on their foolery, but his best efforts were a forced smile while still staring at the blank computer screen.

Martha tilted her head and looked at the monitor. "What are you working on?"

"A letter," he said dryly.

"A letter?" Jonathan asked from his stance over them. "Who to?"

Raising his head with a worried eye, Clark spoke to his father. "To Lex."

"Lex?" Jonathan crossed his arms with a scowl. "I thought we agreed that you were going to keep your distance from him for a while. At least until we got a clear picture of his condition and how much of what happened with you and Morgan Edge's car wreck he remembers."

Clark didn't say a word but let his eyes drift down.

"Well," Martha picked the computer off his lap. "It doesn't look like you have gotten very far with it. The page is blank."

"I know," Clark stood to his feet slowly and made his way over to the open loft. "I don't even know where to start."

"How about where we agreed that you wouldn't have any contact with him for a while," Jonathan suggested to Clark's back. "I don't think you can afford to deal with a man in a psyche ward who saw you using your abilities."

"Jonathan," Martha tried to hush him. "This is not the time for that. It's Christmas and Clark is feeling blue."

"Then call Pete or Chloe and ask them to come over for a visit," Jonathan replied. "Invite anyone you want, so long as his last name is not Luthor."

"Pete," Clark's head sank to his chest. "Is spending the holiday with his folks. The Ross' have been at each other's throats for weeks now, so they are hoping that spending Christmas with just family will bring them closer again."

"Then Chloe?"

"She and her Dad went to Metropolis to visit with her cousin, Lucy or something," Clark returned to the inquiry.

Martha placed the computer on the trunk Clark used for a coffee table and stepped next to him, wrapping her arms around his right one. "Have you tried visiting with Lana?"

"They won't let me in to see her," Clark looked out at the falling snow. "Her Aunt Nell came up with her new husband to spend the week with her, and I think they put a restriction order out on me. The nurses wouldn't even let me give her my present when I went by this morning. They said she was in therapy, but I saw her through the walls talking with Nell."

"I'm sorry," Martha placed her head on his arm. "I'm sure she will come around, eventually. Lana cares about you Clark, and she will remember that again one day soon."

"Sure son," Jonathan slapped him on the back and stood at his left side. "Give her just a few more weeks and then you can go over there and work her over with the old Kent charm."

"I don't know, dad," Clark shook his head. "You didn't see her face when she said she didn't want to be around me anymore. I think she really meant it."

"People change their minds, Clark," Jonathan draped his arm over Clark's shoulder. "And women do it best."

"Jonathan," Martha slapped his hand playfully. "Don't say that to your son. Let him make up his own mind about women."

"Sure," Jonathan did a one hundred and eighty degree turn and tilted his head back with a grin speaking softly in his son's ear. "And then she'll change it for you."

The small joke brought a slight smile to Clark face as his father walked away while Martha sighed heavily.

"Now let's go have some Christmas dinner," he announced back to them.

Martha pulled away and began her journey when they heard Clark's voice tell them, "I went to see him today."

Jonathan froze on the first step and looked up.

"What?" Martha said softly hoping she had heard wrong. "You went and saw who?"

Clark turned and faced his parents who seemed to be even colder as they pulled their winter coats in tighter. "Lex," he let the name slip from his lips. "I went to see Lex in Metropolis today."

"Oh, Clark," Jonathan rested his head on his arm that was raised on the banister. "Why would you go and do a thing like that?"

"Because," Clark spoke as his eyes shifted around the room for a few seconds with some uncertainty. "Because of all my friends, Lex was the only one who would have spent this Christmas with me, and I abandoned him when he need me."

"You left him with doctors who knew how to take care of him while you saved yourself from anyone finding out about your secret," his father spoke softly but sternly. "You had no choice but to get out of there."

"But I could have gone back for him," Clark insisted.

"No, you couldn't," Jonathan stepped back up to the flat. "Any contact with Lex right now would put you in jeopardy and I won't let you do that. Which is why I asked you not to do what you did today."

"Clark?" Martha stepped in. "Why would you risk yourself like that?"

"Because Lex has some kind of hold on him that makes him takes these crazy risks," Jonathan was growing angry with his son. "For the love of God, son, why would you risk everything we have fought all these years to protect just so you can keep a friendship with a man who does nothing but lie to you?"

"Because he's my friend," Clark spat out at his father. "And he needs me. We understand what it is like to be alone in this world, and we help each other feel less lonely when we are together. Besides, he's not the only one who lies"

"Then find someone else to lie to and be lonely with," Jonathan demanded, getting into his face. "I have tried to let you make your own choices as you have gotten older, Clark, but this one is too dangerous right now." His voice was softer and calmer. "You need to let go of Lex until we can at least figure out how much of this whole run in with Edge he remembers."

Clark turned away with a hurt look in his eyes.

"Clark," Jonathan was not going to be ignored. "Are you listening to me?"

There was no response from their son as Jonathan touched his arm. "Answer me, son."

Clark turned his head back with tears in his eyes. "You don't have to worry, dad," he sneered. "Because Lex never even knew I was there today. He was in some kind of catatonic state or coma or something."

"Oh, my goodness," Martha placed her hands over her mouth. "What happened?"

Clark sniffed a few times and looked at his mother's soft eyes. "Lionel wouldn't let me in or even talk to me, but I was able to convince one of the on-call doctors to tell me what he knew, and it isn't good."

Swallowing hard, Jonathan rubbed his hand down Clark's arm hoping to provide some small comfort. "What," his words were hard to find, but he pressed forward. "What did they say?"

Clark leaned against the half door as his parents stood behind him listening.

"He said that Lex has still been hallucinating, and not just about Julian, but about a lot of things. Some that they can't even figure out," Clark explained. "They have been trying a series of new medications to counteract the ones that were slipped to him in his drinks, but they seem to have made matter worse the last few days as he seemed to be just slipping away. He won't even wake up anymore."

"Oh, poor Lex," Martha commented.

"Today they say he flipped out completely and put his hands through the large partition between his room and the hallway," he continued. "They didn't think anyone was strong enough to bust that glass, but they underestimated Lex's dream state."

"Is he okay?" Martha asked.

"They said there was blood everywhere and he needed a few stitches, but he made it through alright," Clark told her. "They said Lionel has been by his side calling his name even more so after the accident than before."

"Calling his name?" Jonathan questioned.

"Yeah," Clark nodded out to the falling snow. "He said that sometimes it seems like Lex is starting to come out of it, but something in his head keeps pulling him back in deeper into his dreams. It's like he doesn't want to leave wherever he is in his mind."

"I'm sorry, son," he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is upsetting to you, but the mind can be a very powerful thing sometimes. There is no telling how long Lex will be gone."

Clark's head sank lower as his shoulder began to rise and fall quickly. He buried his face in his hands and leaned forward. Martha wrapped her arms around him tightly and pulled him to her as he cried into her arms.

"I want him back, Ma," he sobbed. "I want them all back here where they belong."

"I know," Martha stroked his hair. " I know, baby."

For the next several minutes Clark cried quietly into his mother's embrace as his parents tried to comfort him, but there was little they could do to relieve the burden from their man-child of a son. Life lessons were sometimes hard to learn, but they always left their mark on the human soul, and this Christmas was going to be one of those scarred memories for the young Kent boy.

"Lex," the elder man stooped over the younger man who was harnessed down to the hospital bed and spoke into his ear. "It's time to come back to the real world, son."

After several minutes of no responses, he looked up at the African American female who stood on the opposite side of the bed. "You said he would be waking up by now, doctor. Why hasn't my son woken up yet?"

"As I have explained many times over, Mr. Luthor," she sighed heavily. "We need to allow time for the effects of the drugs to work their way through Lex's system completely before we can attempt to force him back to consciousness."

"Then when will that be, Doctor?" Lionel Luthor asked. "Lex has already been here for a few weeks, and I have seen no progress. The blood he lost this afternoon due to your hospital's inept handling of his condition would constitute enough for a medieval bloodletting removing much of the toxins with it. So why is his system still not responding?"

"May I remind you, Mr. Luthor," she seemed to be growing impatient with his demands. "It was at your insistence that we begin the memory altering drugs so soon after his arrival that reacted badly with the former drugs already in his system that have caused this condition. Adding the fact all the blood lost has weakened him even further, so he would be borderline conscious even in the best situation." She paused for a second and then spoke softly. "The mind is a very complicated thing. If Lex's subconscious is happy where ever his dreams have taken him, then any amount of reduction in the medication will not be able to bring his fragile mind back until he is ready."

Lionel looked back down at Lex's sleeping form. "But I have seen him open his eyes at least once already. Why wouldn't he wake up from the sheer multitude of lights in this room?"

"Many people are able to sleep with their eyes open, Mr. Luthor," she explained. "But Lex is even further away than mere sleep. Again the mind is a very complicated thing, but to boil it down simply, if your son is unwilling to wake up, then he won't until he is ready."

"Or forced to," Lionel gave her a cursed look. "There are ways of making Lex wake up, are they're not?"

A small amount of shock came across her face. "Yes," she almost stuttered. "Yes, we have a way to force a tentative conscious state in patients of this condition, but Mr. Luthor, in your son's highly erratic and weakened state, I would advise against it. There is no telling what something like that could do to add to his fragile state of mind."

"Need I remind you, doctor," he stood to his full height with firm resolve. "I am the one paying you for results in my son's condition, and I am asking you to awaken him from this drug-induced state."

"But Mr. Luthor," she began.

"Tonight, Doctor Foster," he insisted.

It took her a few moments to fully comprehend the resolve of his demand, but she knew she would be mistaken to go against his order, so she nodded her head and left the room.

Lionel watched her leave with a cautious eye and once she was gone, he turned back to Lex and smiled down as his son. "You'll finally have your wish, Lex. We are going to spend a Christmas together, and I will not allow you to sleep through it.

The snow began coming down in more steady sheets of white for the next hour as Martha stood over the kitchen sink cleaning the last of the supper's dirty plates when she heard the phone ringing. She glanced over her shoulder to see where Jonathan had already fallen asleep in front of the TV watching 'It's a Wonderful Life'. As was usual after a full hearty meal, he had not even made to the point where George makes his wish after his failed attempt to jump off the bridge.

She tried to be annoyed at his lack of hearing anything outside of his dreams, but could not help herself as a smile crossed her face at the thought of his contentment. It was at the third ring when she finally dried her hands on the dishtowel next to the sink and picked up the cordless receiver.

"Merry Christmas," she cheerfully called out to the mystery caller.

"Merry Christmas back at yah, Mrs. Kent," Pete Ross's voice came from the other end of the line. "And how are you guys doing on this snowy night?"

"Very well," she nodded her head with a smirk. "We missed you for Christmas Eve dinner. I made your favorite ham with the honey glaze."

"Oh, Mrs. Kent," Pete faked a growl. "You sure do know how to hurt a guy on the holiest of nights. But I'll forgive you if you manage to save me a few slabs of that heavenly ham of yours for when I come over next time."

"Sure, Pete," she laughed. "If I manage to pry a slice or two from the hands of my two 'eat until you explode' guys, then it's yours."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kent," Pete was satisfied with his victory of securing some ham. He knew that Martha, like all Kent's was good at her word. Even on something as trivial as leftovers. "So is my best bud around anywhere?"

"He's up in his room," she replied making her way up the hall to the stairwell. "He has been sulking all day and I think your phone call is just the thing he needs to cheer him up."

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up into the small hall at the top landing outside the bedrooms. "Clark?" She called up. "Pete is on the phone for you. Pick up the extension from my bedroom."

Her loud howler woke Jonathan from his light sleep and he sat up on the sofa looking over at her. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she gave him a small smile. "Its just Pete calling for Clark."

"Oh," he yawned.

"Clark," she called again after hearing no movement and pressing the phone to her chest. "Clark, Pete is on the phone, pick up."

There was still no movement on the second floor of the house by the time Jonathan made his way over to his wife's side. He looked around cautiously and then noticed something missing from the hook next to the door.

"Martha," Jonathan taped her shoulder lightly with his index finger. "I don't think Clark is up there."

Martha turned swiftly following his line of sight. The spot where Clark's winter jacket usually hung, more often after her picking it up off the floor than not, was emptied but a short note had been taped to the wooden coat rack.

"Pete," Martha raised the phone to her ear and spoke slowly watching as Jonathan took the letter and began to read it. "I will have Clark call you later. Thank you for calling, Merry Christmas."

"Wait," Pete's voice could be heard calling. "Is everything al…" but she pushed the talk button and terminated the connection.

"What is it?" her eyes were filled with fear. "Did he?" She could not even finish her thought as they had both known what had happen even before they read the note.

Jonathan glanced up and then again to the note. "Dear mom and dad," he read. "Please don't be mad. I needed to see if Lex was all right. I am sorry, but I can't help but feel like this is partly my fault. Don't worry, I'll be careful." His eyes almost glazed over as he read. "Love, Clark."

"Oh, Jonathan," Martha looked down at the note and read it again to herself. "What are we going to do?"

"The only thing we can when you have a son who can move at the speed of light," he pulled her into his arms. "We wait and we pray. Whatever happens, Clark is going to do to have to get through this on his own."

Martha returned the embrace and began to sob softly. "He's going to be so hurt."

Lionel Luthor stood at the top of the steps out front of the Bell Reeve hospital watching the snow falling outside protected by the covering of the cement over hang above his head. His breaths were echoed in large pillows of smoke from his mouth as he stood his silent vigil just watching the white powder fall.

"Mr. Luthor," a voice called from behind as it approached. "I've been looking all over for you."

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" He looked over at the woman addressing him. "I have been out here the whole time, Doctor Foster. There was no reason to look elsewhere."

"Of course," she could not help but still be apprehensive around this man who seemed to hold so much power over so many people. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I am perfect," he grinned with a control over his emotions that she knew from her years at practice that too few other people could maintain. "It is Christmas Eve, it's snowing enough to satisfy any holiday enthusiast, and you are here to tell me that my son is about to wake up."

On the last few words, he turned his head looking back over his shoulder with an assured stare in his eyes. "That is what you are here to tell me, is it not?"

"Yes, of course," she stumbled on her own words. "Everything is set up, and we are ready to administer the medication at your request."

"Very good," Lionel turned fully and faced her with a large toothy grin. "Then let us begin."

"Mister Luthor," she placed her hand on his arm before he could move and quickly removed it, wrapping both limbs around her cold body. "I must again warn you of the devastating risk involved with forcing your son to consciousness in such a delicate state that he is in. The effects could be long term, sir."

"I am willing to take that risk, doctor," Lionel scowled.

"Are you willing to risk his death?" She spoke quickly as if pleading with him. "I have been monitoring your son for the last few hours and his health is very frail right now. He is stable and will get better, but a jolt to his system like you are asking for could kill him."

Lionel eyed her cautiously for a while.

"Please Mr. Luthor," her eyes were sincere and honest. "Above all else, I must consider the health of my patient, and I am asking you to reconsider this procedure. Lex is not strong enough to handle it."

"Then that is a chance I am willing to take, Claire," he showed no signs of giving in. "You have no idea what my son is capable of handling. I will be the judge on whether or not he should be awoken."

"He's happy where he is," Claire Foster was going to give it one final attempt to sway his plan before she would be forced to risk his life. "I have been watching, and he keeps smiling. Wherever he is, Lex is enjoying himself and thinks he is with people he loves. I do not see the harm and allowing him to stay there another twenty-four hours while his body is able to adjust to the transfusions and he regains some strength. Let him have his own happy Christmas."

Lionel stepped into her personal space and met with her eyes six inches away. "You will do as I have requested, Doctor Foster," he sneered. "Or I will take my son and my funding of this hospital elsewhere. Perhaps somewhere where they are not as studious of Lex's physical health as well as his mental state." He paused to add drama to his words, and then he finished. "Do I make myself clear, doctor?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded her head twice.

"Mr. Luthor," another voice called up from the bottom of the stone steps. Turning slightly, Lionel could see Clark Kent's dimly lit form in the light from the deck as the snow fell softy over him. "Please listen to what she is telling you, sir."

Lionel glanced back at Dr. Foster. "Go get ready and I will be in shortly."

"Please, Mr. Luthor," Clark pleaded again as he stepped up to the flat as Doctor Foster disappeared into the building. "You have to listen to her. You can't risk Lex's life like this."

"I can do whatever I wish, Mr. Kent," Lionel growled. "If I wish my son to be woken from this cationic trance or coma, if you will, and I have the means to do it, then I have every right to bring him back to the real world."

"Even if it kills him?" Clark brow creased.

"We Luthors are made of much sterner material than you would think, young man," Lionel assured him. "Lex will be able to see his way through this just as he has seen his way through numerous harrowing events that would stifle the common man."

"But, Mr. Luthor," Clark started to Lionel's raised hand.

"Go home and spend Christmas with your family, Clark," he waved him off. "And let me have Christmas with my son."

"But," Clark was being persistent when Lionel pulled a handful of glowing green beads from his suit coat pocket and held them out. Forcing Clark to take a step back, unaware to Lionel.

"Do you know what these are, Clark?" Lionel asked holding them out.

"I'm not sure," Clark lied trying not to show that he needed to brace himself against the column behind him.

"They are small pieces of the meteor fragments that they found with Morgan Edge," he told Clark admiring the jewels. "Morgan had them made into some type of prayer beads or such, and they were destroyed in his confrontation with Lex. I plan to throw them into the east river where he should have stayed the last time he died, but I needed to hold onto them for a few days as a symbol that we Luthors will always overcome anything or anyone who comes against us."

"But this procedure will kill him," Clark managed to growl as Lionel slipped the beads back into his thick pocket.

"Perhaps," Lionel sneered again. "If you had brought Lex to me like I had asked in the first place, then his condition would have never resulted to such a dire state." His hand slapped Clark's face once softly. "I know what is best for my son."

He turned and opened the door to go inside as Clark was straightening from the last of the meteor rocks effects that he was able to pass off as grief and made one last attempt.

"She said he was happy were he was for now," he called out. "Can't you let him heal in that happy place for just a little while?"

"My son is hallucinating about spending time with his mother and dead sibling," Lionel called back looking over his shoulder. "It is time for Lex to return to the real world."

"But even if he lives," Clark gave one last ditch effort. "He won't be happy. He'll still be sick."

"And one day he will recover," Lionel spoke for the final time. "And then he can be happy. Tonight, he will be here where he belongs. Not in a world of make believe."

"A world," Clark said as the door began to close. "Where you wish you could be instead of him. Because he's with Lillian and Julian and he is happy, and that is killing you." The door closed tightly as the last word was spoken, but he knew he had been heard.

Inside, Lionel leaned against the heavy metal doors and sighed. His mind was reeling from the last few minutes, and he had only the time of the walk from there to Lex's room to decide what to do. But he was sure he had already made up his mind.

Outside, Clark leaned his head against the cold metal. Every fiber of his body was telling him to rush in there at top speed and rescue his friend from his father, but he knew that any attempt to move Lex now would only make matters worse and maybe kill him.

He had made his case and pleaded his side as well as Doctor Foster, and now it was up to Lionel to make the right choices. With everything else that had gone wrong in his life the past few weeks, he needed to place his trust in the only man who could destroy him in an instant if he knew the power he held over Clark with those beads in his right pocket.

Clark had promised his parents he would not risk revealing his powers before Lex again, and with Lionel holding the Kryptonite, there was little he could do without risking Lex further even if he tried. The war was over, and the fate of his friend was in the enemy's hand. On this, the holiest of holy nights, Clark had to trust in his faith that Lex's father would do the right thing.

With that resolve he stepped off the stoop into the cold night air and falling snow. Somewhere in the distance a soft gentle woman's voice could be heard through the bright Christmas lights around him as she sang of 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.'

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas tc " Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas " l 3

(From the film ' Meet Me In St. Louis' Hugh Martin, Ralph Blane 1943)

The snow was falling as Clark looked back over his shoulder at the hospital.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

A snowflake fell against his warm cheek and melted.

Let your heart be light

His bare hand wiped away the flake.

Next year all our troubles will be out of sight

Clark sniffed away the rest of the flakes on his face.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

He looked up into the dim night sky.

Make the Yuletide gay,

With warm tears streaming down his cheeks he parted his lips.

Next year all our troubles will be miles away.

As in so many times before, Clark prayed.

Once again as in olden days,

He prayed with the urgency of a small child.

Happy golden days, of yore.

Inside Lionel watched as Dr. Foster placed a needle in the IV tube.

Faithful friends who were dear to us

He watched as silent smile cross Lex's sleeping face.

Will be near to us once more.

Just as she was about to press the plunger, Lionel grabbed her arm.

Some day soon we all will be together

Without looking up or saying a word, he removed the needle.

If the Fates allow

Rubbing a hand across his son's head, he smiled.

Until then we'll have to muddle through some how

"Merry Christmas, Alexander," he spoke softly.

So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

"Merry Christmas to all of you."

And the music played on.

Outside, Clark looked up at the room using his x-ray vision and smiled. Even if he were not going to have a merry Christmas, then perhaps somehow Lex would find a way to have one of his own. With an accomplished grin, Clark turned back to the road ahead and ran home to spend the rest of the holiday with his family.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Lex Luthor was awoken from his trance state by a voice he had come very comfortable with in the past three years.

"Lex?" Clark called to him as he turned to see his worried friend. "Are you okay?"

Lex raised his hands and studied himself from head to foot for a moment and then returned Clark's stare. "Yeah, Clark, I'm fine."

"Good," his young friend gave a sigh of relief. "You had me worried there for a minute again."

"Sorry about that," Lex forced a smile onto his face. "I guess I am still tired from our snowball fight earlier. What were we just talking about?"

A puzzled look came to Clark's face. "I not sure? Was it important?"

Lex thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. "No, I guess not."

"Good," Clark stepped up next to him reaching around and slapping him on the back. "In that case, what do you say we get back to the party downstairs and do some serious damage to some of the brightly wrapped gift boxes?"

Reaching around, Lex returned the gesture and smiled widely. "Sounds like a plan, Kent."

The two young men left the soft glowing bedroom and made their way down the hall into the joyful noises of laughter and merriment one flight below. The soft orange hue of the house only added to the warm gentle feeling all around them, and Lex reveled in the sights and sounds of another Kent, Luthor and friends Christmas.

There was no telling how long the party went on that year, but Lex didn't care. With his parents at his side and Julian long since asleep on his lap where they sat on the floor next to the tree, he sipped on his room temperature hot chocolate and listen as Jonathan read the Christmas story from the Bible for the third time that night. While wearing his mother's latest 'less than perfect' attempts at a knit hat, scarf and mittens set, he glanced over to where Clark had Ryan wrapped in a blanket in one arm, leaning against the sofa and with Lana's head on his other shoulder. Chloe and Pete were having a quiet contest to decide who could stuff the most sugar cookies into their mouths at the coffee table while Martha continued to pour cups of Jonathan's world famous hot chocolate into every mug with so much as a sip missing.

"So," Clark lean over carefully as not to wake Lana or Ryan with a large grin on his cheery face and asked softly. "What do you think of this year's Christmas Eve party?"

Taking in a full glance of his parents in each other's arms listening to the Christmas story and running a hand through Julian's hair on his lap, Lex turned back with his own warm smile. "One word, Clark," he spoke softly with a hint of glee in his voice. "Perfection."

The End

God Bless everyone who took time to read this, and Merry Christmas!