If I Lose Myself-OneRepublic

Pieces-Rob Thomas

Coming to the office after being absent and virtually without contact with his company for five days was utterly necessary. The messages waiting were over 99, though he had no desire to find out how far over. He could have taken the time to get on his phone but he just had not been able to focus. He left it off, turning it on only when he needed to make a few particular calls to a selective partition of his employees. Distraction did not cover what he had bee feeling and lost did not either.

In the span of a day aliens escaped his labs and destroyed said labs and killed off some of his staff; an alien stealing his almost-girlfriend's body times two; throw in another glowing eyed alien that was apparently on their side; another side of Raya and that little nightmare he had yet to break the news about; the massive bundle of questions and answers with more questions surrounding Clair. There was always something otherworldly about Clair, he knew she survived a direct hit at seventy mines an hour with an added side dish of railing and water, but hearing it was something else entirely.

Lex gripped at the edge of the desk, trying not to think of who had perched there not too long ago, tried to pretend it had not happened at all because it was easier that way. He had no idea where Bizarro was now but he hoped that other alien had better ways to contain her than he clearly had. He could have pretended it never happened for the most part. There was little evidence left.

A few calls to his secret crews and things at the dam... went away. The dead were found somewhere else, car crashes, their backyard swimming pools, various things that might explain the varying manners of death. The clones were ashes in the city dump, useless now. The research was safe and far removed from what was left at the watery wreckage. His spin doctors had been hard at work. Everything was done with the dial of a few numbers, the perks of power and money.

Raya was in a body bag in a lab freezer and he felt a little, or no, a lot guilty about that, but he could not very well have let her end up in some city morgue for others to look at. Looking might mean learning and he did not want anyone learning anything at all, not in this case, not really even his own people. Eventually he might have to, have to get a bit of a look into what made her like humans and what was different. The curious scientist in him wanted badly to find out but the... maybe the human in him could not consider it just yet.

And God... the first night he brought her to the mansion and he stepped out while she was sleeping, a scream bringing him racing back as fast as he could move, throwing the door open. Seeing Clair curled into the fetal position, fingers coiled in her dark hair, eyes open but unseeing and terrified... floating, hovering near the window like escape had been the first thing on her mind upon waking but she stopped just short of breaking free. Walking to her side and guiding her back to earth until her feet and consciousness were grounded, beside him in the room rather than somewhere he could not follow.

He took those memories in hand and relegated them to that separate place in his mind he created when he was much younger to survive his father with as close to emotionless as he could get. It was the place he had stored the sound of Julien's last cry and the pillow hitting the floor by his mother's feet; the part of his mind that could observe and respond with logic in an emergency. He knows separation and vulcan compartmentalization, owes it greatly to watching Star Trek and Spock's unsinkability in the face of things no human could have emotionally withstood. It made it so he could function.

Settling in to do some work while Clair slept safely in his guest room was something he really had to do. He owned a company with a lot of jobs that needed to be kept up. There was only so much he could delegate, some things had to be cleared by the boss. Sometimes he wished he could drop it all, let it all fall down around him so he could go crawl in bad beside Clair. He frightened himself with that thought because he knew, knew down to his toes that he needed all the power he had fought so hard for. Power would be what kept him in control, what gave him strings to pull if he needed them, what enabled him to keep aliens out of the public eye.

It was both a shock and not when Lionel walked in, wide grin, confident stride that let the whole world know who walked into the room. Even people that did not know the Luthor name, if there were any, would know to shy away from all that sharp knife exterior of lethal malicious power. Lex remembered the days when he was a bit younger, he always felt mildly safer when a weapon was near him if his father came into the room; there were still times he felt just a little better if he had a pool stick in his hand, or maybe a foil. He thought a lot of people dearly wished they were carrying a gun in their pocket when Lionel walked into the room; if not to kill him, just to have the sense that they could defend themselves.

His father dropped into a chair across from the desk with inherent grace like a panther at rest, immaculate as always, only a little discoloration around the hairline of his left temple to show different.

"Hello, Dad! Nice of you to stop by." Lex kept his words flat even though his foot twitched just once like his body wanted to bolt.

Lionel smiled, slow and easy, a glide of facial muscles; he heard one of the maids whisper once that the smile reminded her of a snake, and Lex felt he had to agree. "I heard you were back so I saw no reason not to stop by, see how you were." He did not ask where Lex had been, might not have seen the need to, or worse, might have had the answer.

"That bitter about me not visiting you while you were in the hospital?" Lex intentionally toned his voice with amusement he did not feel.

Lionel laughed, rumbling and hollow, "Of course not. It was nothing serious."

"Doctors still sent you home with quite a few medications though, didn't they?" Lex asked, playing at innocent they both knew was put on.

"They always do." His father used the same assured voice he might with his bored of directors.

"Head injuries are serious, Dad. Are you sure you should be up and around so soon?" Lex could play his own spin doctor.

"Son," Lionel began, a clear indicator the talk would be long and unpleasant, "I've noticed your obsessions growing over time. Aliens, artifacts, the caves, the young Ms. Kent... now, I will grant you, obsessive behavior is a family trait, but sometimes you have to keep yourself in check." He leaned forward like he was getting into his talk, "Now, I'm honestly very proud of the way you managed to cover up your involvement and true dealings in that Reeves dam incident, but I'm no simpleminded consumer that swallows everything I'm fed."

"Dad, you were there when it all caved in, and you were in the water a while." Lex gave him a look of mock concern, "I'm not sure they should have released you so soon. That was very traumatic, I'm sure. You might need to take some time off to recuperate and get yourself back together. Call it a vacation... go somewhere sunny."

Lionel offered him a wolfish grin that put a chill in his blood, "Maybe I should. Though I wouldn't suppose you have a reason for wanting me on vacation? A girl you want to invite for a play-date, hmm? Clair, by chance?" He had shifted his focus onto somethings far more personal, and the widening grin said he knew it, "Now, don't get me wrong, Lex, I can see why you are obsessed with that particular piece of real estate. Rural, untouched, scenic, what man could resist staking a claim?"

It was stupid to show a weakness but he just couldn't stop the way he bristled at that horrible terminology applied to Clair.

His father did not hide that he noticed, "Now, I understand why you have an eye on her, really, I do. We both know she's very... special, not like other girls. She is a unique specimen if ever there was one."

No, no, no! There was no way his father was hinting at what it sounded like. How could he know? How could he really know? Lex worked very hard not to let his hands shake but his restraint was just holding out. No fiber in his body liked hearing her name put in a sentence with the word 'specimen.' Granted, he had done some experimentation on the phantoms but he had already seen they were killers on that video, seen what they left behind after they finished with a body; they were not innocent, so it was different.

"Clair and I have been friends for several years, Dad. Her father is climbing the senatorial ladder very fast. Mr. and Mrs. Kent are making quite a name in the political world, Particularly since he just became the US senator." He felt he needed to drive that point home particularly hard just to remind the old man that he might have a significant battle on his hands if he stepped a toe too close to their daughter, "I would frankly be a fool not to stay in that loop of pertinent information."

Lionel nodded, putting on a false face of agreement, "Of course Lex. I just think you might want to take a few steps back from that particular obsession. What starts out as curiosity can turn into a strong hold. Just look what happened to Troy when a woman fell into the mix." He stood and casually headed for the door; he used nearness or distance like a stage director, setting the tone and mood of conversations with posture, "Just think about it. Maybe too, how dangerous it could be if she got too close to some of your business dealings. Staying in the loop goes more than just one way. While you stay in her loop you never know what she's getting in return."

"While I'm touched by your paternal gestures, I don't think you have anything to worry about." Lex forced himself to relax, a rock back on the ball of his chair.

Lionel eyed him over his shoulder like an eagle sizing up a dormouse. "Lex-" He said it like a declaration and scolding, "I'm sure you think you love her, but she's not for you. You were born to rule this world. Clair isn't the sort who could sit at your side, she's the kind that will get in your way. Lurthors are conquerors, totalitarian... and she is something else entirely. You were born to outmatch what she represents, not to hold hands with it."

Lex frowned thoughtfully, pretending to be delicately wording advice offered in love, "Dad, for the good of your health, find a beach and sit under an umbrella on the sand. If you spend enough time relaxing, perhaps some of your paranoia will fade. I would hate to see you crack under the pressure of recent events the way I once did a few years ago. So much stress isn't good for someone your age. I think it might ease the minds of our shareholders as well to see you taking better care of yourself."

It was a well placed threat and they both knew it. The only difference might be his father's lack of understanding. For a man with such a slight grasp of the concept of love, he could not be expected to understand the lengths Lex would go to if he needed to. Rich though he was, he had nothing in all the world but Clair; no one, even his father would take her away, he would not allow it. He would learn how to protect her from anything, making deals with the devil if necessary, but he would learn.

"Indeed." The hallway echoed of his father's retreating, dark laughter.

Clair Kent was something of a staple item in the Luthor mansion. There were many times she took all her meals there and many nights she slept in the guest room near the master of the house. Not a soul questioned it, they did not dare, what with Lex Luthor to contend with. The staff grew even more used to the girl than they had been before but it took very little to see the changes in dynamic. Lex was careful with her, hyper aware of her every shift and change and need, very much a mother hen, or more like a loyal doberman that took guarding very seriously. He seemed in a perpetual vigil over her, like he dearly wished she would just let him put her inside a bubble, like she were breakable. Some of the full time staff thought she well might be. Smallville was known to turn the minds of many an inhabitant, particularly young minds.

No one on staff could say what had happened to that girl but they knew exactly who did know; it was a short list consisting of two known names excluding Clair. Clair was herself, for the most part, but there were times when she slipped just on the other side of reality, like Alice through the looking glass, present but also far away. With her parents being away, most thought it a good thing the girl had someone to look after her, someone that cared so deeply.

Bets were collected all around town once the Kent girl unofficially moved into the castle, secret or not. No one was supposed to notice but it was a small town and everyone knew everyone else's business, went out of their way to find out, took up stalking just for hints. Small towns were worse than the Inquisitor.

Lex and Clair were unmistakably close, too close in some ways, dependent in a way that could have been unhealthy. Then again, the cook insisted that was the way it looked when two people were made to be together, when it was that rare kind of love the authors wrote about and never captured. It was a visible thing, tangible in the way they looked at each other, as readable as a letter. They were in love. They seemed to know it too, though they might have been the last to know what everyone in town had been waiting to see bloom or wilt. It looked like roots had finally gone deep enough to let it flower.

Whenever Clair left for classes or for any reason, it was glaringly obvious Lex disliked it. If he could have he very likely would have forced the school to move to the castle just so she would never need to walk out the door. It was clear enough that he only felt she was safe under his roof, and even then he eyed any sharp edges on furniture enough that they wondered when he would order baby guards placed on any and all moderately threatening items. When she walked out the door Lex was moping and brooding; and yes, it was called brooding, but no, they never called it that to his face. He paced like a caged lion, tangled up in knots of thick tension until he left the house himself. Most of the staff was almost if not absolutely positive that he checked on her before he ever went to the office but again kept speculation to themselves.

Some around Smallville whispered descent that such a wholesome girl; a Kent, of all things; could be caught up in the wild, foul whirlwind of a Luthor. She was adopted though, not a true blooded Kent, so there was that. Most that had been watching over the years just smiled the knowing sort of smile that comes with a bit of maturity and a lot of people watching. There had been bets sliding under the table at the Talon after all, particularly among the waitresses, but regular patrons got into the fray as well.

Lex's staff knew more than most. They also knew that Lex hired more people to care for the farmhouse and land a good portion of the time to be sure that Clair could easily get to her classes at the college. He did not want her overtaxed. So long as Jonathan Kent was never the wiser, things would run smoothly.

That had nearly been cause for a battle at the farmer's market. A willowy, petite maid had been in attendance when she heard a burly farmer commenting on the additional help over at the Kent farm, he'd had nothing kind to voice on where those workers got their checks. She was small, but wiry and stubborn, had a temper too, Irish blood ran hot. She insisted the Kent's, good people or not, had no right to expect one little girl alone to take care of such a big place; according to her, the Kent neighbors should be ashamed of themselves for making it necessary for Lex to hire anyone when they should have done a bit of helping themselves. She might have strongly hinted that Lex was more generous and mindful of things like that than people claiming to be concerned over the issue. Had it come to blows, most would have bet on her, the little redhead maid to win if the way she could give a tongue lashing was indication of how she could fight.

Clair was mostly fine, better by the day, but there were times she was less so. There were times, like the time Pete resurfaced, that Clair would just stare, vacant and lost but also intense, analytical, searing bone and sinew with the intensity, like she was trying to understand something or was lost in some other world. Lex and Chloe got tense whenever she did that, even more tense if Clair started to mumble odd things to herself. When it was Pete, Clair stared, studied and muttered very, very quietly; "Pete the Boss Ross, football at MetU, best known for his victory dance after a touchdown, currently studying law, very successful, very happy because he never met Clair Kent." Things had been particularly tense on all sides, all but Clair as she just stared at Pete like he was a character from a book rather than a boy she had known since childhood.

Lex unfailingly shifted closer, bumping shoulders with her accidentally-on-purpose like he had waking her from a trance down to a science. That contact seemed to free her from that other word and she would look at him, smiling like she had only just met him until it turned sharply back to recognition. She always smiled, doe eyed at him, like nothing happened, saying a sweet; "sorry, I was just thinking." She always brushed his leg with the tips of her fingers once, like it could have been an accident. It's like a script. Eventually though, that stops, abrupt and easy, like it never happened.

Interestingly enough, Pete came back around Smallville a little more frequently after that; even more interesting was his fading resentment toward Lex. Where the sharp edges of suspicion and distaste had been, they seemed to dull and soften. Lex, Chloe, and Pete might not have said a word aloud but somehow they slid into an accord of some kind, strange though it was, but it was clear enough that it all centered around one girl.

The call caught Lex's attention, the number, specifically. It was the head of his... cleaning crew, that very special brand of cleaning. He left the plant for it, getting into his car before calling back, hitting the gas to let his car take him away as fast as was allowed and a little above legal. There was something he should see, apperantly, something they found on a final sweep of the area. He drove down the deserted roads and walked briskly for the rest. Even if it had been safe to say that word over the phone he would never have been prepared to see a second spacecraft in his lifetime. It looked nothing like the black on and yet it did, made by the same sort of thinking, same culture when you studied it. It was quite old though, weathered rather extensively.

It was only then, with his hands roaming the surface, that he thought of what Raya had said. A signal, or a beacon. This must have been what she was talking about, something washed up in the flood, the signal was a ship. Clair's maybe? Or someone else?

"Get. Away. From my ship." A very determined and decidedly masculine voice warned, weighted with the kind of finality that a parent would have over children; a parent was bigger, strong, and could make a child obey if they chose to.

Lex turned around slowly, eyeing the new arrival. Not one of his people tried to run or move for a gun, they already knew enough not to panic in front of a threat, thankfully. Their stranger was tall, broad, built like Adonis; it was the face that told Lex everything though. Dark, thick hair, unruly like it had it's own ideas about gravity; a jaw you would never dare punch unless you wanted broken knuckles; cheekbones pronounced and leading to eyes like a green field in summer.

Lex squared his shoulders and relaxed his stance, shoving his hands in his pockets, offering up a winning smile, "Hello! You and your ship are on my land, but we can overlook that for the moment. I'm Lex Luthor, and you are?"

Those eyes studied him, distrustful on such a deep level, but still had some give, "Kal Zor-El."

Yeah, he would know those eyes anywhere, even on a different face, the resemblance was enough.

Lex nodded, "I think it would be beneficial if we had a word. I'll send my people away and make sure no one goes near your ship... and we can talk about why you are here. How does that sound?"

That body shifted, head tilting marginally in study and consideration. Those clothes, that very impressive structure, and that was all the confirmation needed to know exactly where all those Greek gods really came from, and it was not Mount Olympus. Slightly frightening but it did not make it less true.

"I am looking for my cousin." Kal Zor-El informed him very casually.

Lex nodded again, motioning for his people to make their way in any direction that was away from the direct vicinity; Kal Zor-El watched them go with the sort of frightening contemplation that reminded Lex of a bird of prey; and waited until they were farther away before he spoke, "I think I can be of service, so long as you tell me why you're looking for her."

Kal Zor-El seemed to zero in on him then with such intensity it made Lex want to squirm beneath it, "You know who she is." He stated with an upturn of his chin, "I never told you my cousin was female."

Oh, right! He was nervous, terrified like he had been of Bizarro, and he slipped. He was more nervous than he realized he was if he already stumbled into a rut. It would be very advisable for him to pull himself together.

"Lucky guess." Lex forced himself to stay relaxed, disinterested, though that got harder when the other man took a step forward. His throat worked convulsively to hold back any insisting upon distance and not attacking the local rich boys. "Do you go by Kal? Or would you rather I just kept it all together?"

"Where is she?" There was a hint of threat to those words but Lex refused to shrink.

He kept his tone light but infused with steel, "The last people that asked me where Kara-El was had unsavory plans for her, so you'll have to pardon my reluctance."

"Who asked before me?" There was that edge again, thick shoulders rising marginally like an irritated bulldog.

If Bizarro had been right, if anything he learned had been right, this man had the same enemies as Clair.

Lex was going to try honesty and see where it took them, "Followers of Zod."

The sharp intake of breath and widening of those eyes said honesty might just work out for the time being. He at least could buy enough time to get a proper idea of this being, assess risks and see how much control he could gain. As guarded as this man was, he was also very readable, open in the oddest way, unschooled in hiding reactions. Nothing like the Kent's in that way, the family that hid secrets the size of Fuji without batting an eye.

"How did they find her here?" He sounded horrified with an undercurrent of fear.

"Brainiac, largely." Lex watched the bronze glow of health drain from that face, watched the posture sag like he might need to sit down before his knees gave.

At the very least he could keep a new shock from her for a while, keep the secret until she was ready to hear about what he had found. He believed this person was that missing piece, the aforementioned Kal Zor-El, and he found himself trusting him already just based on the familial resemblance, but that did not mean he could trust his gut. It would be a while before he let this get back to her. There was a lot of information he would need before he ever let this person near her. Powers or not, Luthor's would not be disobeyed and they kept an enemy off balance.

"It's not safe here," Lex told him, "out in the open. Raya found your signal, others might as well."

That shocked blink showed clearly he was tossing out all the right names, "Raya? She is here too?"

"She was, until Bizarro killed her." Now Kal was leaning against a tree, looking overwhelmed and Lex would take the time to feel guilty about it later.

Desperate, open, suddenly trusting eyes looked into Lex's when he moved closer, "Take me to Kara, I have to protect her! Please?"

Lex had been wrong, this was not a man, he was young, at last as young as Clair had been when he first met her. The children of the house of El, too young and endearing to be burdened with the weight of the world. What kind of parents threw children like these, innocent and tender, out into the world alone? Even his father never exactly left him out in the world alone, he made him fight tooth and nail for his existence, but he was still there lurking in the background, as protective as he was damning in the utterly contradictory way. There was no love but there was possession. What could have their parents have been like to do this, leaving them to a world with so many powerful enemies and nothing to fight with?

Even now, he knew he would extort the innocence he saw in those wide eyes. Alone and unfamiliar, what did this boy have? Of course he would trust the first person that seemed to have all the answers. A stray thought crossed his mind, making his chest nearly convulse when he wondered if Julien would have been like this. Lex took a gentle hold on the boy's elbow and found him unresistant as he lead him away to his car.

Martha, Clair, Chloe, and now this boy, all on a personal list of people that needed protecting. The world did not deserve the two innocent little visitors, not this cruel, merciless world.

Clair never would have expected the invitation to go to the reunion to still be open, but some time during the movie the night before, Lex, with his arms curled all around her like a net, reminded her it was coming up on the weekend. After all she put him through, all her little issues with reality, she expected him to find someone else. There was no reason to take her with him and every reason to leave her at home. It was not as if she had been exquisite company lately, acting more like a mental case than a friend... oh, and wasn't that ironic? They had each lost their minds, each sought shelter with the other.

Life could be decidedly cruel when it had no reason to be. She would have rather never had to lean on him for her very sanity. The last thing he needed in his life was more stress and yet being her friend seemed to inflict that on him at every turn. Why he stayed she would never know. She deserved to be left on some curb in the middle of noplace; not that she could not run home again before he could pull into the driveway; but sardonic humor aside, she knew she deserved dismissal.

They had yet to talk about what happened, about anything really. She knew he discovered a lot more about her and had seen plenty, but he turned a willing blind eye and continued on as if nothing happened. Lex willfully ignored everything and asked no questions. It was wrong of her to take advantage of that, but she had not offered information yet, though that might have been what he was waiting for. He deserved to know everything but she could not shake the choking shame that was tied to the truth. The truth was, she was the very first freak in Smallville, the one that started it all and hurt so many people, hurt him.

Clair feared his rejection, his loathing, knew from experience how it felt to be the focus of that from him. She was afraid to see it again, sure she could not live through it a second time, seeing that look in his eyes. Once was more than her sanity could handle, broken down and shattered by the loss of any kind of love from him where she had grown into breathing Lex's love in for air.

Love must be insane, or maybe it was the ability to stay with someone even when reality slipped; when they sang to blankets; when their eyes were glazed and distant; when they woke up asking what was real and what was a lie. She never knew how frightening that had been for Lex, that feeling of not knowing how to tell what was real, until she lived it.

This was love, what it really felt like, and it was strange to realize that she had never felt it before. Everything before, it was a crush, it was weak and minor, fleeting without any sort of roots to hold it up, so easy to uproot. It was never real, she had never been on love in her life, not even close to it. People talked about their first love, that first boy they fell for, and if things didn't work out, this would be the love that brought a smile for the good memories and tears for the loss of it, not the little crushes because those feelings hadn't been deep enough.

After the movie ended he lulled her to sleep on the couch the way he did most nights; with her head on his chest, tangled over and around each other, kissing wordless declarationg into either others skin, or something just staying perfectly still; the steady drum of his heart a comfort that beat against her ear, his voice a low, calming thrum she could listen to all her days, reading or quoting from memory chapters from The Art of War or writings of Niccolò Machiavelli.

He was a romantic deep down where no one normally got to see him. He was full of little poems he could whisper into her ear when they walked down the halls, quick to offer her a rose or her favorite chocolate when he picked her up from school in expensive cars that let everyone know there was a threat inherant in causing her any problems, mixing in expensive clothing with her usual ones with care so that she might not notice while she bleerily got dressed in the morning.

She should have known by his lack of comment when Lex found her in the loft struggling with her makeup, looking at magazines desperately trying to duplicate some of the looks, that he would do something. The next day he asked her to come to the castle when she finished class rather than going to the farm; when she arrived there was a very polished young woman, mid-twenties, she thought, waiting for her. There were brushes and more kinds of makeup than Clair knew existed. The willowy woman didn't just give her a makeover, she spent at least two hours teaching Clair about evening looks, work looks, smokey-sultry, sophisticated, and showed her how to make them happen, step by step. She was patient like a saint, Clair would say, because she knew how clueless she really was. The questions must drive the woman up the wall but she showed nothing of it at all, just taught her in easy, practical ways.

Something about it all stirs up a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Bitter because Lana, Chloe, and Lois always have or had absolutely perfect looks. She always thought she just couldn't look that way, that she wasn't really capable. She never knew there was a wrong way to put this on. She never knew there were secrets, never knew about high or low lights, never knew the type of brush mattered, never knew there was an order to it. Clair always thought you either had it, or you didn't, and she didn't have it. It would seem that she did have it, she could look like that. So why had they never just spent a night, a girl's night, playing with this stuff, teaching her these things? Why was it ultimately Lex that taught her things her friends should have?

She considered, wondered, if they just expected her never to need to know. After all, she was just a farm girl. People call her that often and it's not an insult, only sometimes it is. Sometimes it's sharp, meant to hurt and wound, meant to sound degrading. Why exactly? It had never made sense as to why that was something anyone should be ashamed of. There was nothing wrong with being a farm girl, so what made that mean she was less? She was 'just a farm girl' but what did that mean? Why did that exclude her from makeup? It should not sting because it wasn'tnot an insult, just a fact, but sometimes it did. It should not matter.

Lex told her, when she made a joke about not humiliating him in front of people with her terrible, outdated looks, that she was already perfect, he just wanted her to have the confidence to back it up, wanted her to feel just as assured as every other girl at the party. He also insisted that she needed to know how to do things herself, which was why Bridget was there to teach her and not do it for her. He might have been the sweetest man that ever lived, she thought. For just a moment that nagging fear came back, the one that asked if he was too perfect, like a dream, but she pushed it away. If it was a dream she had no plans of waking.

When the lessons were over Clair expected her to pack up the table and leave, but she didn't, it all stayed in the little spare room. Lex only told her, very blasé, that she should come over to do her makeup for the party in that room. It would all be left there for her to use, not only for the party, but any time. The second room beside the already frequented guest room, apparently, now belonged to her. First a guest room to stay in and keep a few clothes, now a room to make herself look like a lady. If it kept up she would have half his mansion.

Lex did things like that, gave too much, gifts of absolutely anything he could think of. So much so that she was occasionally afraid to look at anything too hard in case he might decide she needed it and buy three. Always very, very good at finding loopholes, the gifts simply find their way into the rooms he designated for her. When she found a new item and confronted him, he shruged, fighting a smile; "Wonder how that got there?" He cocked his expressive brows like he was innocent, unassuming, like he had no idea, might blame in on magic.

"I don't need gifts, Lex. You have to stop that!" Clair reminded him. "I can't just accept things like that... you're far too good to me on any given day, I don't need even more."

"Wouldn't dream of getting you gifts, Clair! I know how the Kent's are. It's not a gift, it's in my house, whatever is here it still belongs to me." he insisted, "... but if it's already there, you might as well use it. It's only borrowing. I would do no less for any guest in my home."

"You brat! You cunning little brat. If you think you're fooling me, you're wrong!" Clair crosses her arms under her chest, jutting out her lower lip just a little.

His blue eyes darken, focused on her mouth as he moves closer, "I like it when you pout." The tip of his tongue traced her lip, wetting it and tickling it enough to make her shiver, "God, your lips should be illegal! You don't even know!" He kissed her, wet and searing hot, holding her in place with both hands on her jaw; he pulled back with a pant and a smirk, "But I always win, you know I'm competitive."

Clair never was competitive, not really. After being so careful to blend in all her life she's not sure she knows how to be, but he sometimes brings it out of her. "Don't be so sure, Lex, I might surprise you yet." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a little shove to go along with the kiss, pushing him against the wall while protecting his head and shoulders from any real impact.

The next day she collected up a few gifts and did a bit of computer investigation to find out where he purchased them, dressed up in some of the clothes he bought her, borrowed a car from the garage, and marched herself to Metropolis. She stopped into each store and informed them that she was Lex Luthor's secretary and she was returning said item because Mr. Luthor's gift recipient found it inferior. It was sadistically amusing to watch them squirm and apologize, even more fun to haughtily say, "No, he will not except store credit." She walked out of those stores with cash and a hidden grin.

It had been easy once they saw the car, heard the Luthor name. They were so eager to make it up to Lex that they agreed to anything. There was a bit of luck involved too. They could probably have disproved her claims if they had been less interested in making sure the Luthor's would have no reason to be displeased with their products later. She had to turn down free samples of some expensive things, no less. She had been around Lex enough to duplicate his attitude when she really wanted to, and it all felt so different when she was playing secretary, like she could be someone else that easily and feel none of the fear. Glasses and a suit was all it took.

When he came home later she made sure to be in the garage, just waiting silently in the shadows. Lex slid out of his car like water, graceful as any human could ever be, clothing unwrinkled and not daring to hint at disorder. There was a moment when she thought he might miss the car sitting front and center by the door with a red bow draped over the bumper, but he slowed, head tilting curiously in that direction before swiveling all the way around.

"Where did this come from?" He asked the open air, and as he clearly expected, someone materialized to answer.

The staff he employed was very likely trained as magicians considering the way the appeared from thin air, "It was delivered around an hour ago, no note or message."

Lex opened his mouth but never got the chance to ask.

"It's clean. No listening devices or incendiary devices."

Lex almost looked startled by that statement but it slid into nearly unhindered approval, "But there was no explanation?"

"When we insisted, they told us your secretary purchased it per your request."

Clair vanished in her own act of magic and busied herself at the farm. It took around two hours for Lex to stroll into the barn, hands shoved into his pockets, posture very exaggeratedly relaxed; Lex was never honestly relaxed so that was clue enough that it was put on; and he moved up behind her. Though she continued on as if she had not noticed him, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck; bad day to pull her hair back because she was getting chills from that.

His hands rested on her shoulders, driving gloves still on, voice low, "How was school?"

She had skipped her classes, "Good, same as usual."

He hummed before attaching his lips to her throat. She let herself melt into it, waiting for him to work around to the real reason he came. Turning in his arms, she found his lips with her own, exploring, kissing deeply, tasting his anger; enjoying the way she could tell she was making him forget. Hunger jumped into the kiss, his jaw dropped wide to offer he access and gain more himself. He was so experienced, knew exactly what to do, she sometimes wondered how he put up with her.

Clair wound her arms around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his hands sliding onto her waist as he tugged her into something of a slow dance. The only music they were swaying to was the wet smack of lips and heavy breaths but it was enough. At some point he directed them toward a high stack of hay she had intended to put in the stall but inspiration struck her, so he pushed him into it, watching the surprise on his face as he sank into it. He was sprawled out in front of her and she sank down beside him, intending to assure him it was clean, but when he rolled over her she doubted he was very worried.

"Nice try," he murmured against her ear, breathless as he ground his pelvis into hers, "but I still remember."

One leg hooked over his hip without thought, "Remember what?"

He reached for her other leg and slung it around his waist, "That you're in trouble."

"I thought it was a nice car." Feeling bold, she nibbled carefully at his ear and was pleased when he shuddered, "More practical than you usually buy, but nice, and it's got plenty of power under the hood, which I thought you would appreciate."

Lex bit down on her neck, moving against her the way he had only once before, making that same feeling clench inside her, but it would be alright so long as they didn't do anything else, "You-pretended to be my secretary!"

"I did, yeah, and I think I was very good at it."

"You returned things I bought for you!" He tried to lean on his elbows but found it did not work well in hay, so he gave up and just stared into her eyes from very close.

Clair shut her eyes finding it too intense to look into a face that beautiful and see him angry with her, "I didn't need a diamond bracelet or any of those things."

"I wanted you to have it! I want to give you things! Why can't you accept that? What is it with your family?"

She opened her eyes, looking into that glare, "It's not that. It's not because of my family."

"Then enlighten me!"

Clair smiled, hesitantly, looking into those beautiful eyes so full of mystery, "I don't deserve it."

He drew in a sharp, though quiet breath, exhaling his words, "No..." he kissed her gently, "you deserve the world. It's the other way around. No one deserves you, you have no idea." His fingers pet her cheek with the sort of affection that was almost painful it was so real, "You're better, more incredible than anyone I have ever met. You have more heart than any twenty people. No one could earn you if they spent eternity trying."

Clair tried to hold up a smile but she was unsure what her expression should be after words like that, "I meant... the last few weeks, I've put you through a lot. You just grin and endure without complaint. I don't deserve all that kindness. You should at least get a new toy for all of that rather than buying me things... so I evened it out a little."

Lex stared at her for a long, long time, searching her eyes for something she hoped she gave him, "You are all I could ever need in all my days..." he smiled that gentle, private smile that he only let her see, "though cars are good too." He wasn't angry anymore.

"I don't need gifts, Lex," she told him seriously, "you... get that don't you? You're all I want, just you, Lex. Nothing else matters! I want you to understand."

The hunger was back when he kissed her, urgent, but softened into something sweeter this time, "God, I love you!" His whisper felt like a vow.

The building was overdone, ostentatious in such a way that it feels like a movie or like this was built by some old king or queen once they passed the crown to an heir. Then again, all the people around her were heirs so some kind of money. Looking at them, dripping in diamonds and precious metals with the best clothing money could buy, she felt like she stepped into a modern feudalistic world. Elegant, hushed sounds accentuated by the occasional loud laughter. Expensive things are all around. Expensive crystal, ice sculptures, food that looked like modern art, and lots of extremely well-dressed, well-trained people that knew how to play the games of royalty.

Though they were out in the open air to congregate and greet the posh society outside the dining area, she smelled nothing of real air; she smelled interesting mixtures of perfume, cologne, roses, herbs she might never have heard of before, and expensive food. She did not even smell sweat even though there were so many people, like they were above such human problems because they had money. It was surreal and chilling as far as atmosphere. Clair was getting uncomfortable flashbacks to prom, Victoria Hardwick, that museum, Bob Rickman, and the overall feeling you got when you were about to realize you were naked in a crowd in a nightmare.

The hors d'oeuvres were tasty but she didn't even try to covertly sip at the champagne. She doubted she was allowed, mostly sure she needed to be twenty-one even for that. She was curious how the "good stuff" they had to be serving would taste but not so much that she would sneak it.

No one knew her and she felt the curiosity in their gazes when they look at her. If she listened she heard the whispers, some unkind, some flattering, and some vulgar, but all questioning. Coming to a party with a Luthor was fifteen minutes of fame in some twisted way and she was not sure how she felt about it. For a girl that hid away it was not the most comforting thing in the world.

It felt like someone, maybe even Victoria herself, might pop up suddenly and tell them all exactly who a Luthor brought in to their high society. No one had sprung from the cracks or shadows though, not yet, and she looked the part. Spending time with Lex helped her converse the way he did, enabled her to navigate the way she never would have been able to years before.

Lex was focused, ridged and unforgiving like lead. He walked like he had not a care in the world, like clouds were under his feet, but she knew him better than that. He eyed the flower arrangements more than the people, mind on things far out of reach. Most of all, he looked like he was much too good to be there, and from what she sees, he is, but she knows he does not believe that. She understood why he was different but if felt like her hand he kept tucked neatly into the crook of his arm was touching a moving statue rather than a person.

The world of safe anonymity shattered under her feet the second she saw Lois. Irrationally terror struck her and she tried to pull Lex behind a statue but he did not cooperate nearly fast enough, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

"Clair?" Lois' voice was a shot of understanding running right into his eyes. "Your billionaire dragged you to this thing too?" So casual for someone that once reported on her goodbye to Lex. Getting with her own rich boy with a reputation gave her some perspective. Still, Lois talked to her father and talking might lead to dropped information and that was the last thing she needed. She had been waiting for angry calls for weeks.

There was no hostility in Lois at the moment, she even smiled at Lex without any hidden malice. Lois looked like she belonged in this crowd, pearls, perfect hair, tight but elegant dress. They both looked like money now.

"Lois! Hello!" Clair forced a smile and straightened her shoulders like she had not just been trying desperately to hide behind an inappropriate statue.

Lex might as well have turned to stone as well once he saw the man with her... Queen. Now, she did not hate Oliver, but she was not his biggest fan either. They spoke and were perfectly cordial. He was never rude to her and he was good to her family with support. There was a distance though, something in him that reminded her a little too much of everything she hated about high school. Lois mentioned him constantly after she managed to thaw his initial cold shoulder. It was interesting that Lois managed to make up with the man after slamming a door in his face but life was a funny thing. Love could do a great many things and Clair was smart enough to see the way Lois looked at the man.

Oliver, golden and groomed, still looked like a playboy, but he also looked highly uncomfortable, eyes darting between Lex's polished shoes and his face, "Lex." He smiled for Lois but there was something very tense about him, like he did not want to be there anymore than Lex.

"Oliver." Lex had his eyes firmly fixed on the other man's face like a bold challenge.

Time to make that stop, quickly, "You look stunning, Lois!" Clair smiled, managing to put on enough of that same bubbly politeness she had seen most of the other women in the crowd us. "I didn't know you wore anything but sequin to parties like this." They fell very easily into this roll, passing barbs around. They had gotten closer but this banter was still a lot easier than real conversation.

Neither man got the reference to the glittering stars and stripes, and they both looked a little confused, because the way Lois laughed let them in on the fact that it was an inside joke.

"Believe it or not, Clair..." the smile tightened in a little warning, asking without asking for that topic not to be expounded, "and you know perfectly well that was Chloe's fault."

Now they looked confused and interested.

"Oh, I know! Chloe can be evil when she catches a story. Still, it worked well for you." Clair snatched a glass off a passing tray, needing something to do with her mouth besides talk and get into trouble. Forget not drinking, she did not even know what she swallowed, had not tasted it. It bubbled in the glass prettily though.

Lois showed a little more teeth than was needed, "Thanks, Smallville. Always good to hear. If I remember it, you looked pretty good yourself."

"I wish I had some idea what you were talking about, it sounds fun!" Oliver offered a winning smile, like their banter was working to thaw out the cold.

Lois nearly glowed, "We'll never tell. Girl's have a code."

Clair smirked, fingering the stem of her glass, "Anyway, how are you enjoying the reunion? Pretty sure ours wouldn't have caviar."

Lois grinned back, "Depends on who shows up! Not all our class drank the pom-pom juice!"

It was fun tossing around references neither man knew about, even if Lex knew a little more than Oliver would. "Right, the good times... some of us even stayed sane."

The tension in Lex rocketed, and at first she thought it was because she threw out the unmentionable sanity topic, but then she noticed two men slid in at Oliver's side. Unlike Lex, Oliver seemed to relax. It screamed old dynamic and there was that uncomfortable feeling that she had seen this before, like with Whitney and his followers. Clair ground her teeth and sized them up, noting they looked like spoiled little boys that never grew up. She liked them less when they said hello and exchanged greetings.

Lois did not seem to notice, busy looking around her, but maybe she was not totally oblivious considering she muttered, "Can we say Lord of the Flies around here?" And Oliver put an arm around her like he hoped she would behave if he kept her a little closer.

"How's business?" Lex ventured tightly, leaning into her a little like this might have been the reason he wanted her here.

"It's good, great!" The dark haired one seemed falsely cheery.

"Not as good as you." The one nursing what might have been his fourth drink, with a pompous name she thought had been Alden muttered, sandy hair brushed over and somehow still pompous even though it was conservative, eyes landing on her with a smarmy smirk, "Who's your arm candy?"

It should not have been possible, but Lex tensed even further, but so did Lois.

"She's Clair Kent, Senator Kent's daughter." Lois sounded like she was talking about royalty suddenly, and it was a little sweet of her to try to defend. They might not have been close, but girls stuck together against men, as a rule.

"What's a girl like you doing here with a guy like Lex?" Alden persisted, arching a brow at her.

"Same thing Lois is doing here, I should think. He asked, and I said yes... tends to be how parties go." Clair took another sip and still forgot to taste it.

"It is a party-" Oliver said, obviously grasping at straws, looking for a swift way to turn the derailed train. "Maybe we should-"

"Maybe we should mingle a bit more." Lex just kept smiling so tightly he might split his lip.

"How about if I asked? I'm better company." Alden looked drunk, even if he might be able to hide it decently thanks to a very likely long history of drinking.

Jeffery? elbowed his friend lightly, clearly not drunk and Oliver said something she did not listen to. Lex, however, took a step and opened his mouth, so she had little choice but to act first.

Clair took an intercepting step forward, smiled very sweetly, making her voice sound apologetic, "I'm afraid I can't. I'm allergic to flees and you know what they say about lying down with dogs... or in this case, even keeping them company."

He blinked, like he did not get it, but Lois nearly choked and the other three looked at her like she grew a second head.

Oliver moved first, snatching the glass out of his friend's hand, "Maybe you should lay off, huh?"

He looked more confused, "Like I was the only one thinking it?" He shrugged, "Whatever." Clair could not help thinking Lex held his alcohol far better.

Oliver had a hand on Alden's shoulder, pulling hard if the stumble was indication, "Good seeing you Lex, Clair! Maybe we will see you around?"

"Yes, I'm sure I will see you soon! Probably from behind a desk, no doubt." Lex was still smiling but that might as well have been a threat.

Clair caught Lois's arm, "Nice seeing you Lois! Your date has such charming friends!"

Lois gave her an unreadable look but walked away like she had nothing else to do. Several people had been watching but they politely and conveniently were suddenly engrossed in other things. Clair kept smiling, curling both arms around one of Lex's. She wanted to ask if they could leave but she understood enough to know that would be seen as a retreat now.

After sufficient time had passed she steered Lex back in the direction she had seen Alden. As they passed him, she very carefully became animated in what she was telling Lex, a flick of her wrist sent a tray of something directly for the man's chest, making a satisfying gooey sound before the metal tray clattered loudly to the ground. All eyes turned on Alden and his red splotched shirt. Those very well might have been fish eggs clinging on. Clair apologized to the waiter, back turned away, not even looking at the rich little snob she just splattered intentionally. Who said she learned nothing from Lex's many lessons of pool and trajectory mixed with angles? Practical application.

If nothing else, Lois looked approving and Lex looked like the cat that got the cream. When he lead her away she had the oddest feeling of accomplishment and an even more odd sense of belonging considering a few of the upturned smirks sent her way. It felt like she thought it might have if she had done that to one bully or the other years ago in high school.

"Like I said, Clair... no one deserves you. You're better than anyone here."

"I was thinking the same about you."