Rating: G
Warnings: None
Status: Complete one-shot
Summary: Clark takes Lex to the flea market, intending to make a believer out of him.
DISCLAIMER: NOOOO! They're MY toys! MIIIINE!
Flea Market
One of the large wooden double doors of Lex's study burst open with a carefree manner that instantly gave away the visitor's identity. Clark. Only he felt so at ease around the bald scion as to just invade the man's space without so much as a polite tap to announce his presence.
Lex shut his laptop, though would give no other sign of how eager he was to get away from the work he always seemed to be bogged down in. He smiled as Clark made his way over to the desk with an answering grin.
Before Lex could speak, Clark announced, "You're taking the day off."
Non-existant eyebrows raised on Lex's hairless head. "I'd love to, but--"
"No and's, if's, or but's, Lex. Everyone needs a day off now and then. It's called a 'Sanity Day.' Besides, I need your opinions. I'm going shopping."
The eyebrows moved higher. Smirking, the older man replied, "How very Freudian of you, Clark. Getting in touch with your feminine side?"
Clark rolled his eyes. "Nothing quite so noble. Just getting birthday gifts for my Dad the only place he won't growl about me having paid too much for them."
Suddenly dubious, Lex asked slowly, "Wheeere?"
S
"A flea market, Clark?" Lex groaned. He wished he'd brought one of his cars that had a top. And maybe one of those things you locked on the steering wheel so that it wouldn't move.
"Yeah," he replied, still grinning. Seeing his friend's dubious look, Clark reassured him, "You'll be surprised at the kind of deals you can get on good stuff here. Loosen up a little."
With one last look at his personally-modified and customized Spyder, Lex left the car and followed Clark into a building that looked older that both of their fathers.
He was surprised. The warehouse-like building he was so suspicious of didn't smell as bad as he'd thought it would. On the other hand, it was much louder than Lex had anticipated. People spared him a second glance due to the slacks he wore, but nothing more. A little boy who was running from a girl that might have been his sister took refuge between Clark and Lex for a moment before running off again. The girl trailed after him.
"Great, huh?" Clark teased. "Don't worry. I'll make a believer out of you eventually."
Shaking his head, Lex followed him to the first table that boasted hunting knives. The guy tending it, a large muscular man who looked like he spent too much time in the mountains greeted Clark.
"Hey Grody! How ya been?" the farmboy asked.
"Eh, same ole, same ole. Birthday shopping for your old man huh?"
"Yup. Got any new..." At that point, everything that came out of Clark and Grody's mouths may as well have been jibberish, for all Lex understood of it. Finally, cash was traded, and a knife was purchased.
"That was a steal, Lex! Man! I can't believe it! What a boob! Grody practically gave me this, and it's an antique!" Clark laughed as soon as they were out of earshot of the man. "Okay, time to get you into this."
He led Lex to a small booth with yellow, purple, orange and lime green bead curtains hanging from one side, model airplanes from another, and the other unblocked side had clothing for little children's clothes hanging from it. Inside was a counter filled with small boxes with a piece of paper taped to the glass in front of it. "Never removed from box, all dolls, action figures, and toys in case." Another two glass cases were stuffed with comics, most of which were wrapped in cellophane. There were also a couple shelves filled with toys and grab bags. The booth smelled like old books.
A wizened old woman and another whom Lex figured was in her forties and slightly overweight sat in director's chairs behind the counter with the boxes. The younger one looked up from a book she was holding. "Hello," she said with a thick Southern accent. "C'n I help you boys?"
"Yeah. Got any Warrior Angel stuff? My friend's a fan," Clark volunteered.
"Oh yes. We've got comic--"
Lex interrupted the woman as she got up from her chair. "I've got all the comics, but thank you anyway."
"We've also got the action figures. Including the extremely limited Devilicus Courtyard" action figure."
That got Lex's attention. "How? They only made twelve of those and they all went to contest winners. I sent in tons of entries and still didn't win."
The woman grinned. "My mom used to be a fan, believe it or not," she gestured toward the old woman.
"How much?"
S
When they returned to the car it was intact and undisturbed. And Lex was ranting about the cut-rate deals he'd gone on Warrior Angel memorabilia. Clark grinned smugly.
"And can you believe she sold me the Warrior Angel with Battle-Scarred Devilicus set for thirty bucks? You can't get that on eBay, much less for that price!"
Clark snickered. "See? The flea market has something for everyone. Even you, Lex."
Lex blinked. His eyes widened when he realized he had found something to like about the flea market and he laughed. "Alright. You are victorious, Devilicus."
"You bet your winged butt I am, Warrior Angel." Pause. "So does this mean I get to drive back?"
"Hah! No. Not until you get your permit, farmboy. I may be willing to bend some rules, but I am not losing my driver's license in Podunk Town. Besides, you might decide to use your awesome powers of speed limit breaking to take over Smallville," Lex quipped, remaining in character.
Clark pouted. "Darn superheroes. Sticklers, one and all. Curse you, Warrior Angel." He cackled. "I will have my revenge!"
"So when are we going to the flea market again?"
Well, sorry if the end made no sense. Thought it would be fun to have the boys do a role-reversal on good and evil. The idea to have them go to a flea market came to me when me and Mom passed on the other day on the way home. We used to go to them all the time, and I wondered what Lex would do at one. Please review, and none of that one-liner junk. Tell me what was good or sucked about it. Thank you!