Author's Note: Most of the dialog from this chapter will come from the pilot episode of Smallville, and some of the next chapter will come from the Roswell pilot. Okay with that said, much love to all those who reviewed so far and keep them coming.

The Maniac in the Porsche

Clark hung around at the stadium after the pep rally, it wasn't really his intention he managed to get himself entranced by Lana Lang once again. He'd been pretending to tackle that issue he'd been having with Geometry, and he'd lost all track of time.

"Clark!"

Clark looked up quickly and saw his friend Pete standing there wearing his practice uniform.

"How do I look?"

"Like a tackle dummy. Break a–. Scratch that I hope you don't break anything." Clark said gathering up his stuff to leave.

Pete took off his helmet and looked at Clark with indignation.

"See ya later Pete," Clark called.

Clark went to his favorite spot to think.

It was on the Loeb Bridge. He had been going there since he was little looking out into the water always made him think of how big the world was and how small his problems seemed.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice that truck that had just passed had drooped some barbed wire off the back. But he did notice the sound of tires popping. He turned just in time to see a light blue Porsche careening toward him. The last thing he saw before impact was the frightened expression on the face of the young man driving the Porsche.

I wonder if aliens go to heaven when they die. Clark thought.

Lex Luthor was from one of the richest families in the country and he still hated his life. He had just left the crap factory his father had given him to run. He was not at all pleased about having to come to Smallville. He would like to never set foot in this town again, and he'd told his father as much.

Naturally, his father had only laughed at him and gave him some famous quote. He was really so sick of hearing those.

Well, one good thing about being so far down in the sticks is being away from him.

Like most twenty one year olds with a trust funds Lex hated his father, and for good reason. Lionel Luthor was a horrible, horrible man. Lex had seen a lot growing up with him in Metropolis after his mother died.

He fiddled with the radio in his Porsche, while he drove. Then a call came in on his cell phone. Lex was a good driver, really he even had his own gloves but between the alternative rock and the accountant he was cursing out he failed to see the barbed wire on the road ahead of him.

He drove over it. Cursing himself loudly he tried to break but the tires were out and he ended up swerving into a handsome teenage boy who was standing by the bridge. He ran into the boy and then the bridge then off into the water.

Oh shit! Lex thought just before he lost consciousness.

Getting hit by a car and then being driven off a bridge didn't hurt as much as Clark expected, he wasn't nearly as dead as he thought he would be.

Clark stopped wondering why he was still alive he'd never been much for existential thought. He sprung into action quickly rushing to the aid of the man who had hit him.

He peeled back the roof of the Porsche like it was merely a can of sardines and then he pulled the young man out breaking the seat belt as he did so. He swam them over to the bank of the river and started to revive the young man.

Clark started to perform what he could remember of CPR. He had never put his lips on another man's and he'd never really given it much thought. He just dived in and did it supplying air for the have drowned man.

He was fairly young despite his lack of hair. He looked rich too, the fancy car the expensive suit. He really hoped he'd make it through this.

"Don't die on me." Clark whispered, and as if he heard him the man spit out the water that had taken up residence in his lungs and then his eyes fluttered open.

"I could have sworn I hit you," the man rasped out as he tried to sit up.

"If you did I'd be…" Clark let the sentence trail off.

Dead. I would be dead. Why am I not dead? If ever there was a time for existential thought this is it. Clark thought

.

Jonathan Kent was not pleased to get a call from Sherriff Ethan Rogers that his son had just been in an accident. He stomped past all the deputies and rescue workers once he'd finished gaping at the bridge. Some stupid son of a bitch had hit Clark and driven straight over the bridge.

"Who was the maniac driving that car?" he demanded.

A young man stepped forward, Jonathan recognized him immediately. He was a Luthor. The younger of the two. One was just the same as the other as far as Jonathan was concerned. They were both evil and shouldn't be suffered to live.

Killing the young billionaire was for another day. Getting Clark away from him was his main priority.

"That would be me. I'm Lex Luthor. You have one extrodinary boy Mr. Kent." Lex said offering his hand.

Jonathan didn't shake it he simply stalked forward over to where Clark was standing with a blanket over his shoulders looking out into the water.

"He saved my life if there's anything I can do­­–"

"Drive slower." Jonathan told him.

"Clark are you alright,"

Clark nodded absently without meeting his eyes.

"Son, go get in the truck."

Clark started up the hill and Jonathan followed, neither of them seeing what Lex was now staring at.

Lex watched as a crane pulled the Porsche out of the water. The roof had been ripped off the front was horribly mangled. And Lex could have sworn hell, he would have sworn he'd hit Clark with his car. If Clark hadn't stated that he saw Lex go over and dived in after him.

I hit him and he ends up saving my life. The ironies never stop with me. Lex smirked and then stalked off to talk to his insurance company.