War
Clark breathed deeply of the crisp, clean air. The winter sun was dazzling on the new-fallen snow. You couldn't have asked for a prettier day; it made you happy just to be …
Splat.
He turned, incredulous, hand in his hair; Lex knelt in the dense powder, grinning up at him, his leather-gloved fingers already packing another snowball.
"Saw the guy who did it," he deadpanned. "He ran that way."
Clark gave him a head start, but soon tumbled him into the nearest drift.
Lex gasped at the crush of Clark's mouth - and the cold slide of revenge down his collar.