A/N: The bad news is, the next chapter will still probably be late; it'll take me a couple of weeks to get back to regular Wednesday updates.

The good news is, I've outlined up through chapter 70!

Chapter 41 - Heat

Lex slapped shut the box with the red meteor rock, then he grabbed Clark. "Come on, let's get out."

"Wha—what—"

"Come on!" Lex half walked, half dragged him out of the door. As soon as they were out in the main experiment room, Clark straightened up, and Lex bolted for the fire extinguisher, ignoring Martha's questions for the time being.

It wasn't a big fire, and he'd caught it quickly—the fire extinguisher was enough to put it out. The wall of the cell was covered in black ash and foam, though. Lex sighed, double checked his shirt for singe marks—it looked like he was alright—then he went back out into the experiment room.

Clark stood in Martha's arms. She was rubbing his back and speaking softly to him, and then she pulled back and brushed back his hair, looking him right in the eyes and asking, "You're sure you're alright? What happened?"

For a moment, hot jealousy bit at his heart, and he couldn't stop staring at the scene unfolding before him. Then he remembered that Pamela would probably treat him exactly the same way when she found out about the accident. Lex wasn't exactly looking forward to it—if anything, he was dreading the inevitable panic in her voice, the worry in her eyes—but thinking about it made it hurt a little less to watch Clark and his mom. He paced his breathing and looked away.

Martha let go of Clark and turned toward Lex, and Lex felt his muscles tightening against his will as she rushed toward him—she would believe she had every right to yell and accuse. Instead, she put a gentle hand on his arm and asked, "Are you okay, Lex?"

He blinked. "I'm fine."

"W-what were you doing in there?"

Lex glanced up at Clark, who shrugged. "We were experimenting with red meteor rock," Lex said.

"Why?"

Clark spoke this time. "Because I wanted to know whether the thing I said while I was on it were really me."

Martha turned to Lex. "What did you find out?"

Lex shook his head. "It's not him."

Clark winced. "Lex—"

"Clark, it's not you." He turned to Martha. "It would seem the red meteor rock picks up on some of his inclinations. Any negative thought he's ever had about anything or anyone, he speaks aloud. He's not giving in to his deepest desires or temptations. He's giving in to his wildest fleeting impulses."

"But it's still me," Clark said.

"It's coming from some part of your brain, but that doesn't mean it's any part of who you are as a person. You can't tell me you've never been at a party and randomly thought about smashing your fist into the cake?"

"I—I guess. I've never really wanted to do that, though."

"Exactly. It's in your head, but that doesn't make it you."

Martha's brow furrowed. "Okay, but—but where did the fire come in?"

"I'm a little fuzzy on that part," Lex said.

"Um." Clark shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Lex raised his eyebrows, turning to Clark.

"I . . . it was my eyes."

Martha's voice caught in her throat. "Your eyes set the fire, Clark?"

"It wasn't on purpose, but . . . I think I did."

"Huh." This was really interesting. It was terrifying, but if Clark was correct, it was also a new power. Something new to experiment with.

"Well . . . where . . ." Martha shook her head. "Clark, how . . ."

Clark winced. "Um, Lex, could I talk to you? Alone?"

Lex looked up at Martha, who gave a quick nod and patted the back of her son's shoulder one more time before Lex lead him out of the experiment room.

"What's up, Clark?"

"I didn't know how to say this in front of . . . my mom . . . and things have already been kind of tense at home . . ."

"Hey." Lex waited for Clark to look at him, but Clark stubbornly stared at the wall of the hallway, so Lex just went on. "You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

"I know." The grimace never left his face.

"Whatever it is, we'll work it out. I can help you." Lex was nervous about this one, but he really believed what he was saying. He wasn't going to give up on Clark.

"It was when you mentioned Lana."

"You mean it was because I mentioned Lana?"

Clark nodded. "I started . . . thinking about her. You know, like, in a way I shouldn't be thinking about her."

Oh . . . OH. Lex swallowed hard. They were in a lot of trouble if there was a hormonal connection. Lex didn't want to think about the number of times he'd been turned on over the years, especially when he was a teenager, or how many fires that would correspond to for Clark. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be quite that frequent—Clark was an awfully late bloomer if he was only having these feelings now. "This has never happened before, has it?"

Clark shook his head.

"Well, maybe we should run some tests. See if you can get it to happen again, maybe see if you can control it?"

"How?"

"By . . . thinking about Lana, I guess."

Clark's cheeks turned pink. "Is that okay?"

"You like her, don't you? Why shouldn't you think of her that way? Other than the . . . fires, apparently."

"Because she's . . . a person. And if she doesn't want . . . uh. My dad had this talk with me . . ."

Lex gave a short laugh. "Did that talk include which way to point the telescope in the loft?"

Clark's face turned an even deeper red, if that were possible, and Lex regretted saying anything.

Lex took a deep breath. "Look. I'm probably not the best person to give you advice about . . . that, and your dad's moral standards are . . . different from mine." He'd wanted to say higher than mine, but he couldn't get himself to say those words. "But if you don't learn to control this, you could end up setting someone on fire the next time you go out on a date." Or even just the next time you think about going on a date . . .

"Okay." Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Um. We can't do experiments without one of my parents in the room."

"Right . . ." Lex could see where this was going.

"I don't know if I can . . . I mean, even with you in the room, the only reason I didn't care was because of the red meteor rock . . ."

Lex sighed. "We'll have to talk with them about that."

Clark glanced worriedly toward the door of the experiment room. "That one talk I had with my dad was bad enough."

"I can imagine." Lex's father had never talked to him about any of that, except to spell out the consequences if Lex ever got a girl pregnant. His mom had had one uncomfortable talk with him about intimacy when he was eleven. Pamela had filled in a few blanks; she'd been even-tempered and matter-of-fact about it, which made it a little easier. Everything else, he learned from listening to guys at school, and then, eventually, from real life experience. "But this is important, Clark, and we're not going to go behind their backs."

"Okay." Clark still wasn't looking at him.

Lex gestured toward the door. "Let's go talk to your mom about this. She'll probably take the news better than your dad will."

Clark nodded, and Lex started toward the door, but then Clark put a hand on Lex's arm before he went in. "Wait."

Lex turned back toward him.

"About what I said before, on red meteor rock."

"It's okay, Clark." He kept his eyes on Clark's, even though Clark wasn't looking at him. "Did you mean it?"

"Um, I do sometimes get upset with my parents when they make me do chores, but I think . . . everyone feels that way, you know?"

"I know," Lex said, though he didn't really. Forcing Lex to complete household tasks hadn't really been in his father's parental arsenal.

"But what I said to you, that was wrong. I'm sorry."

"It's forgiven, Clark." He frowned. "Do you feel that way?"

"You mean, do I get bored listening to you talk about your father?"

Lex felt his own cheeks growing warm.

"I don't think bored is the right word. Sometimes . . . it's frustrating, because I get so angry with him, and I want to help you, you know? But I can't do anything, and you seem so upset, and . . . it's awkward."

Lex nodded. It was hard to hear, but it stung a lot less than it had earlier. "I understand, Clark."

"How about you? You don't get . . . bored, when I talk about my problems, do you?"

Lex gave him a wry smile. "You know, at first, I was just happy to have someone to talk to."

"You don't have many friends, do you?"

"It's tough, coming into a new town where your infamy precedes you."

Clark's head lowered a little. "I'm sorry, Lex."

"You're the last person who should be."

Clark's eyes met Lex's, but only for a moment. "How about now? Do I ever bore you?"

"These days?" Lex didn't want to say anything that would hurt Clark, but it was also clear that Clark was expecting total honesty. "Not often. And even when I am . . . I dunno, Clark, bored isn't the worst thing. It's encouraging. Lets me know you're still able to have a normal life."

Clark smiled a little.

Lex didn't think it was a good time to try to hug Clark, considering all of the awkwardness between them, so he settled for a pat on the arm. "Okay. Let's go talk to your mom about those fires."