Another scene that is meant to follow logically from the last. Thanks for your kind words rnelso1 and yes, archive away if you'd like I'm flattered.
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
--W.B. Yeats
The room was silent and for the first time Lana could dimly make out the hum of Lex's laptop and the faint patter of rain against the hard glass of the office windows. The evidence of one of her husband's more curious pastimes burned hotly in her hand, yet she gripped it more tightly. The inconspicuous blue folder shook slightly in her grasp, the shaky moment the only clue to the state of her emotions.
"There will never be children." She announced at last, the declaration no less final because of the soft tone with which it was said. "I could never have the father of my children be a man capable of… of this." The disgust plain in her voice, Lana attempted to raise the folder a few inches closer to him and failed, her hand falling limply back against her thigh.
Lex had his favorite mask on, the calm impervious face he had possessed since he had first walked into the dusty stable all those years ago. It was refined now, seemingly unshakable, and he donned it effortlessly at the first sight of an ambitious competitor or news-hungry reporter. It seemed strange—wrong even, to see it here between the two of them. Try as she might, Lana could detect nothing on his impassive visage as he calmly surveyed her, certainly not the remorse and shame she had expected.
"Alright," Lex finally made out in quietly in an even tone, somehow managing to infuse the commonplace word with an air of gravity.
"If I was stronger, braver I would leave." Lana answered immediately in a tight voice, throwing her head back in the silly, naively arrogant fashion he had not seen since taking her away from Smallville four years ago. In any other context the reminder of her charming teenage imperiousness would have charmed him. As it was he only took in the defiant gesture carefully. Each word, every gesture was weighed and studied by Lex as if the young woman before him was a particularly perplexing chess move that he had to consider with exacting care. Finally, Lana thought she saw a flicker of something human in his eyes as he took a few steps closer to her.
"I wouldn't have you any other way, Lana," He said gently, stopping a foot away from the tense figure of his wife.
She remained staring at him mutely, a bewildering kaleidoscope of emotions shifting constantly within her as she met his gaze evenly. A year as a Luthor had given Lana new reserves of strength in addition to applying a layer of poise and polish over the thin veneer a single summer in Paris had produced in her. No matter how skillful she became at crafting elegant compliments to her husband's business partners or at gracefully turning away the more audacious of the press' questions, Lana rarely managed to employ these skills successfully against her husband. Even now, when she had moral outrage on her side, Lana found it difficult to stand removed and remote from him.
Lex noticed her steely resolve to remain silent and for a moment his confidence was shaken slightly. He glanced down at the folder for the first time and paused, trying to craft his words with care. "I'd think of anyone, you would understand. How many times in Smallville did you come to me, obsessed with the desire to know, determined to discover—"
"This hobby of yours Lex is hardly what I meant." She cut him off, noting with a flash of satisfaction the surprise momentarily apparent on his face at her interjection.
He was quite for a moment, a hint of sadness in his serious eyes. "I am sorry, Lana."
"For what you've done to Clark or that I found out about it?" She asked, anger making her enunciation crisp and cutting.
"That I've hurt you. That is something I would never wish to do." A beat and he continued softly, "You know I love you more than anything. You know I would do absolutely anything for you."
She blinked, uncertain. Staring at him, Lana felt a weariness creeping in on her, the first stirrings of resignation. "Yes, I know. But then, you don't love anything else, do you Lex?"
"I did once. I don't have your talent at it, Lana." He had somehow closed the remaining distance between them.
"Your father has done you a great disservice." She said after a moment almost to herself, eyes fixed on his right hand that seemed to hover over her shoulder as if considering resting there. Swallowing, Lana returned her gaze to his face and voiced the fear she knew was unworthy of her in a soft whisper. "Were we--was it… it wasn't only about Clark, was it?"
"No," Lex said quickly and confidently before honesty made him add after a moment, "Perhaps he… colored things a bit, but only at the beginning." His hand finally came to rest lightly on her arm, slowly moving down until he was at her wrist, inches away from the folder.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed softly, her entire posture shifting in a moment from rigid anger to something resembling defeat. Wordlessly, Lana offered up the folder to her husband, relieved when he took it quickly from her outstretched hand. She felt unreasonably comforted to hear the click of the lock on his desk and the steady footfall that told her the document was safely out of sight. A heaviness lay about her heart where it hadn't before. Lex stopped only a few inches away from her and gently touched her arm once more. His fingers were gentle and hesitant this time, the way they were when she first had allowed her to touch him. Lightly trailing down the length of her arm, Lex finally clasped her hand in his. Lana felt something shift inside her as his cool fingers curl around her smaller hand, still sticky from its convulsive grasp on the folder.
She slowly lowered her head to his chest, the last vestige of anger evaporating and leaving only a dull ache of regret in its place. She listened to his heart beating confidently beneath the shell of her ear and willed the memory of a dark-haired boy with gentle eyes and a shy smile to the far recess of her mind. It was a talent she was cultivating, banishing uncomfortable qualms and unsuitable childhood memories to a place where she could safely ignore them.
"You know I could never leave, don't you Lex?" She said suddenly, her eyes opening imperceptibly so she stared into the deep purple of his shirt.
"Yes, I know." His voice answered, a pleasant rumble. She felt the soft breath on her hair as he rested his face on the top of her head. Lana's own arms moved suddenly, snaking around his waist and her fingers dug into the fine cotton of his dress shirt, as if anchoring herself to her husband's larger frame. Her eyes drifted closed again and remained so.
Much later it would strike Lana as strange that innocence should die on the 56th floor of Luthorcorp in the arms of the man she loved.