Thanks for the so kind reviews! I really appreciate them. I'd like to apologize for all the typos in the last chapter. I never see them until it's been published. I'll fix them but for now, here's a new chapter. Hope you enjoy it!
III.
While she had eventually settled on majors in astronomy and European literature, Lana never completely forsook the artistic interest that had led her to Paris years ago. She looked upon this new creature, Lana Luthor, as she would a particularly intriguing art assignment, a challenge to her taste and attention to aesthetic details.
Mrs. Luthor's hair always hung in a smooth black sheet to her shoulderblades except when it was expertly arranged on her head. Gone forever were pastels and denim, they were replaced by skirt suits that nipped in perfectly at the waist and fit her slim shoulders. Evenings out were her favorite, slipping her bare arm through Lex's and enjoying the sight they made together, the minimalism of her richly hued silk gowns contrasting with the heavy dark suits he wore.
It seemed sometimes that Mrs. Luthor was more of a canvass than a person, but this notion rarely bothered Lana. She was both Galatea and Pygmalion after all, crafting this creation with the exacting care that she had always demanded of herself in artistic endeavors. Still, for all of Lex's subtle appreciation of his young wife's impeccable taste and growing erudition, Lana never doubted he still saw the girl from Smallville when he looked at her. He, and unfortunately his father, were the only ones who still could. The few times her path had crossed with friends from her previous life it was clear they were as fooled by her masterwork as the rest of the world was. Mrs. Lana Luthor was Italian leather heels, manicured nails, and smiles that rarely reached her eyes.
Much was made in the press about the romance of her relationship with Lex. A wide-eyed orphaned girl from a tiny town in Kansas wed to the dashing Luthor scion-- it was enough to make one ill. However, any fantasy they might have been harboring of a golden-haired farmer's daughter with an approachable air and wide smile were put to rest upon actually meeting her. Lana Luthor was charming, but a hard layer existed beneath her easy appeal that was almost as immovable as her husband's. There was Luthor steel beneath all that fine velvet.
It had seemed strange while still in college to date someone like Lex. His latest flashy car waiting with the headlights on to pick her up after night courses, having to explain to bewildered friends why the boyfriend she spoke of bore the name of the grandiose chemistry building on campus. She had long grown inured of their initial disbelief, of the sly remarks and simple envy. If she had gone four years without making any real friends it had never bothered her greatly. Lex had always been there, in a way no one else ever had been. Not Nell, not Chloe, and certainly not Clark.
Flipping listlessly through the international news section of the Daily Planet, Lana mused thoughtfully on the past until a familiar footfall broke her concentration. In her more imaginative moments, Lana was convinced Lex could somehow sense when she was indulging in inappropriate flights of fancies and consciously intruded upon them with something pressing.
"I need to talk to you." Lex informed her briskly, settling himself onto the sofa beside her. She obligingly curled her legs under her to make room, smoothing out the wrinkles that appeared on her silk robe. Her husband was already dressed for work and she had to resist the childish impulse to reach over and undue his perfectly knotted tie.
Smiling at the thought, it took Lana a moment to realize he was looking at her with a trace of impatience. Vaguely curious, she obediently folded the paper and placed it on the coffee table before turning to give him her full attention.
Lex's eyes skimmed briefly over her features and his face relaxed slightly, some of the tension eking away. Lana smiled softly at his familiar reaction to her presence and watched as he reached over for her hand. He toyed with her engagement ring for a moment, pushing the large stone up and down the base of her finger.
"I've decided to run for Richardson's seat." Lex said evenly, his eyes on her face again rather than the ring although he continued to play absently with it.
"Oh." Lana murmured, surprised although she knew she shouldn't be. Since loosing the state senate race years ago she had thought that Lex had finished with politics. If she was the artist, Lex was the architect, skillfully building up his ambition step by carefully planned step. He was always behind the scenes, influencing others with a word, a look, a subtle threat. Lex as politician seemed strange-- having to worry about charming constituents and attending tedious committee meetings hardly seemed suitable.
She knew she should rush to congratulate him, tell Lex what a fine senator he would make, but she couldn't even begin to fathom a suitable response. Insincerity was a talent they both used against the world, but never with each other.
If he noticed her hesitance—and when did Lex's probing eyes miss anything--he didn't appear to mind her reaction. His hand flattened abruptly so it covered all of hers, and Lana was oddly grateful for the reassurance implied in the simple gesture.
"I know it wouldn't be your first choice, Lana."
"I just have trouble imagining myself in the role of senator's wife." She said quietly, her head bowed forward so that her hair partially veiled her face. After a moment she added with a twinge of hardness in her voice, "Or you as a servant, even a public one."
It was the plain truth. Men like Jonathan Kent were meant for that role. Leaders with idealism shining brightly in their eyes and nothing they felt they needed to prove. Pulling her hand away from his Lana rubbed at a smudge of newsprint on her index finger, silently awaiting his response.
Lex didn't seem fazed by this and if Lana had looked up she would have detected an appreciative gleam in his eyes for her last comment.
"There are… rewards for both of us that I assure you are appealing." He answered in a gently amused voice, reaching over to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. His fingertips lingered on her face and Lana had to resist the urge to turn her lips to them as they slowly traced the gentle curve of her cheek.
"I appreciate you informing me, Lex," She said coolly, resolutely staring down at her hands folded neatly in her lap so that her face remained in profile to him. A whisper of an unwelcome memory sounded in her mind, the not-so-distant day Lionel Luthor had presented her with an unconventional and unwelcome wedding present. Trying not to dwell on that banished recollection, Lana tilted her hear and finally met her husband's level gaze.
Did she imagine his eyes widening slightly? Was it possible he too remembered at that moment about that late afternoon that she could never entirely forget? Lana blinked at the fanciful notion and when she looked again the flicker of unease was gone and his face bore only a small, reassuring hint of a smile.
"You'll see, Lana. This will be good for me. Good for us." The confidence and affection in his voice was sincere, Lana was sure, but she strangely wished for the trace of something akin to the remorse that had flickered on his features a moment ago.
"Of course," she said, absently twisting the ring on her finger with her thumb. "I'll do whatever I can to help, Lex."
"I never doubted that. I know how lucky I am."
They settled back into a thoughtful silence and Lana calmly considered the task at hand with the same quiet determination that an artist regarded a blank sheet or an untouched slab of marble. The Senator's Wife would be a new figure and demanded a new palette, different tones and different highlights. She ran her fingers through her hair, considering what hairstyle would be best suited to this latest creation that confronted her. Something shorter to make her look older and more sophisticated?
"You'll be perfect, Lana." Lex murmured, breaking the silence and revealing just how well he could read her still. He pulled her gently over to him, hand cupping her face as she kneeled in front of him on the sofa.
Perfect. Lana tasted the word with a hint of disfavor, her face inscrutable as Lex's skillful fingers played across her lips.
"Yes, Lex. Perfect."