Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my last chapter. Here's the second one. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. No flames, please.

Chapter II: Decision

After the previous night's convivial bliss, Lex found it impossible to concentrate the next day. He was supposed to be working, but there was something seriously wrong with him. He was not himself. He wasn't miserable, he wasn't depressed, he didn't have a migraine. So, the problem was this: there was nothing wrong with him, which was most unusual.

His father found him sitting indolently in his study, staring off into space.

"Lex, what the hell is wrong with you? I'm told you left work three hours early."

Lex snapped to attention immediately and looked at Lionel, questioningly. "You don't make it a practice to personally berate employees, do you, Dad?"

"I thought I'd make an exception for you, son." Lionel walked over to the bar and poured himself a brandy. "Lex, at the plant, you have to command respect and you can't do that if you're acting like a spoiled teenager."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lex replied, semi-amused by his father's words.

"You're going to take over for me after I die, Lex," Lionel said, staring off into the distance, past his son and past reality itself. He was staring into a very dark place. "You have to prepare yourself."

There was nothing Lex could say to that statement. Furthermore, he was unsure that his father could die, as it was rumored he sold three-quarters of his soul to the Devil.

Lionel finished his brandy, sat it down, tore through his briefcase, and handed a folder full of documents to Lex. "You're phasing out Taylor."

"What?" Lex asked, confused. "Dad, he's been working for you for twenty years."

"Exactly," his father replied, shutting the briefcase. "He's been working for me for twenty years and if you're not careful, he'll be phasing you out. You've gotta decide, Lex—are you willing to fight for your livelihood? Are you going to let people manipulate you, force you to create your own downfall? It's a dog eat dog world, believe it or not. School has sheltered you. It's time to enter the real world."

"Not that I don't find your pleonasm amusing, but I feel a migraine coming on. I would like to be alone." Lex rubbed his temples. It was amazing how his father could bring about a migraine quicker than anyone.

"Very well," was the uncaring reply. With the slam of a door, his father was gone.

Lex leaned back in his chair, feeling suffocated. Dreading the evening's repast, he decided to skip it, electing instead to go to downtown Smallville and see what was to be found since the last time he was there. Luckily enough, the Beanery was still in business. Coffee sounded like a fine idea, and with an even greater stroke of luck, Lana Lang was found seated at a table for two, sipping on a cappuccino. She smiled at him.

"Fancy seeing you here," she commented. "Sit."

He didn't need to be told twice. He was happy to see her, feeling his migraine beginning to go away. "I was wondering when we'd run into each other again."

He was smiling, but she sensed his mental strain. Something wasn't quite right. "What's wrong, Lex?"

"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, forcing his smile to be more assuring.

"Well, if you need to talk, I'm always up for listening," Lana said, smiling in that pretty, serene way. "I've got problems myself you know."

"Problems?"

"Well, at the moment, they're not that bad. Mostly, my problems revolve around trigonometry, and I was told junior year would be fun," she sighed, still smiling. She looked up at him and her smile was gone, replaced by another sort of serene look. "I was serious though, I'm a good listener."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied. She was the first person, aside of his prep school guidance councilor, that told him they were there to listen, and unlike the prep school guidance councilor, he believed Lana.

A young man in a C.K.U. jacket walked up to their table. He had dark blonde hair and determined eyes. Lex had a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Hey, Lana," the young man said, "who's this?"

"This is my friend, Lex Luthor," she replied with a warm smile, "Lex, this is my boyfriend, Whitney Fordman."

She had a boyfriend. Lex was speechless at first, but he did shake Whitney's hand at least. To Lana he said, "I better go get my coffee and head home. I've got a lot of work to do. Nice to meet you, Whitney."

"See you, Lex," Lana said, watching him go. He didn't even get a coffee.

Whitney took the seat formerly occupied by Lex. He looked at Lana very hard for a moment and then said, "I knew Nell was friends with the Luthors, but you?"

"Whitney," Lana began, but she was cut off.

"No, seriously, Lana. You know what they did to the Rosses. Everybody does."

"Whitney," Lana said more harshly. "Lex is not his father."

Whitney folded his arms. "I sure hope you're right about that."

Lex walked down the sidewalk toward his car, which was parked just down the street a little ways. The night was considerably colder than it had been before he entered the Beanery. He sighed. He couldn't pretend that it wasn't a slight disappointment that Lana had a boyfriend, although he knew he shouldn't be disappointed. He should be happy, she was a sweet girl who deserved to be happy.

Something just didn't seem to fit; he shrugged it off.

With the remote on his keys, he unlocked his car door. It was at that moment that a hand reached out of the alleyway and pulled him inside it. It was dark, the street light only illuminated a little bit of the alley, but in the dim light, Lex could make out a person, a male, with a ski mask over his face. He was pointing a gun at his head.

"Give me the keys," he ordered.

"I don't believe this," Lex rolled his eyes. The first mugging in Smallville in fifteen years, and he, Lex Luthor, heir to the Luthor Empire, was the victim. It was pure poetry. A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

"I have absolutely no problem shooting you in the head. Now, give me your keys."

"I really don't believe this," Lex shook his head and thrust the keys into the criminal's hands. He was angered, and pondered beating him down right there in the alleyway.

"Now, give me your wallet. Hurry it up!"

It was humiliating. Lex hadn't felt helpless since he was a child, feeling helpless was a strange concept to him. He disliked it and resented it. Lex Luthor refused to be a victim.

"No, I don't think I will, actually." Lex could care less whether he was being reckless or not. Right there in the alleyway, he would take back what was his."And, give me back my keys."

"God, you really are stupid," remarked the mugger. "You do know this gun is loaded, don't you?"

Lex laughed. "I could care less." He then delivered a swift punch in the face to the mugger who was knocked backward from the force. The mugger grabbed his jaw in shock. It was broken. He launched himself at Lex, forgetting the gun that was in his hand—the gun he never had the intention of shooting in the first place. Upon remembering the gun, he used it to his advantage and smacked Lex across the temple with it. Lex was knocked out cold, a bloody gash upon his forehead.

Thinking he'd just committed murder, something he'd never intended to do, the mugger decided to run for it. He ran right into a young man, who looked from the gun wielding fiend to Lex, and put two and two together. Citing that Lex was down for the count and nobody else was around, the young man used his unique ability and punched the attacker, sending him across the alleyway, knocking him completely unconscious. Taking out his cell phone, he dialed the authorities.

Less than a minute later, Lex came to. Everything was blurry and his head felt as though it were split open—he felt as though he had the mother of all migraines. When his eyes focused, he saw a dark-haired highschool kid by his side.

"You're going to be all right. I called the police," the youth informed him. Lex attempted to sit up, but the task proved to be too much. "Don't move—wait till the paramedics arrive."

Lex obeyed; he couldn't really move anyway. Glancing around, he noticed the mugger was lying on the ground. He said to the young man by his side, "you saved me." It wasn't a question. "What's your name?"

"Clark Kent."

"Lex Luthor," replied Lex, shaking his hand. "I'm forever indebted to you, Clark."

"That's not necessary," Clark insisted, but Lex shook his head.

"It is; you saved my life," he said for the second time."I'm indebted to you."

Lex was hospitalized overnight for observation. The doctor warned him to take it easy over the next few days and in that time of rest, he was visited by Lana.

"I would've come sooner if I had known what happened," she explained. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Thanks to Clark Kent," he replied. "He saved my life. I'm lucky he was there."

"He's a hero." Lana smiled. "And very humble, I might add. If his friend, Pete, didn't say anything, I wouldn't have known. It wasn't in the paper or anything."

"That's because my father didn't want it to be," Lex walked over to the couch by the fireside and Lana followed in suite.

"Why?"

"Lana, most of what my father does is a mystery that I'm still trying to unravel. I've spent most of my life trying to understand why he does what he does, and the scarey thing is: I know his reasoning better than anybody."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Lana tried to be soothing.

"I doubt it," Lex disagreed. "He is as bad as people say he is, Lana. In fact, I know him to be worse. Any closeness I share with him is unnerving."

"You're not like your dad, Lex," Lana said earnestly.

"Tell that to the people who make me pay for his sins."

She sat up taller and looked very regal as she did so. "People like to label other people. Take me for instance. People assume me to be this brainless cheerleader whose life revolves around football games and her boyfriend. They assigned me this role and I'm cursed if I played it, but I'm also cursed if I don't. It's a no win situation. What it all comes down to is this: you have to know who you are and the people who are worthy of you will see you for the real you."

"That is some sage advice, Lana Lang."

"Well, I'm on my own enough to think of things; when I'm out riding, it gives me a fairly good perspective. Also, the horses don't argue."

She truly was unique.

Lex folded laced his fingers together thoughtfully and stared off into space, not really looking at anything. He was deep in thought. "My father wants me to do something I consider to be unethical."

Lana looked shocked and gave him her rapt attention as he continued to stare off into the distance.

"He wants me to run one of his executives out of Luthor Corp."

"What will happen if you don't?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe something. I don't know, but what I do know is: it's wrong." He looked at her. "My father dishes out a lot of threats, but he only follows through with the very special ones."

Lana's voice was filled with worry as she said, "what are you going to do, Lex?"

"I'm not going to do it."

"And what about your father?" she asked. "What if he fires you?"

"Whatever he does," Lex replied, "I doubt that's going to be that. It's not his style. Whatever he does will be much worse."