* * *

Ploy

* * *

The doors burst inwards. Clark fell off of Lex's lap.

"Lex!" boomed the voice of Lionel Luthor.

The curtains fluttered; the glasses on the table rattled; and the aural fog of busy sounds that usually veiled the city was briefly obliterated by an angry rumble as, distantly, the Guild of Alchemists exploded for the third time that year. In the doorway, Lionel loomed as if he had invented the word, his arms flung wide open and his cloak flapping in a mysterious wind. Thunder cracked, and the sky grew dark.

Clark, sprawling on the floor, gaped. Lex sighed and hid his eyes.

"Could zis be a ploy to get my attention?" said Lionel. "Vell done. It vorked."

"Nice to see you too, Dad," said Lex wearily. "Could you send the flunky with the fan away? He kind of detracts from the ambiance."

Lionel appeared not to notice this, but as he strolled over to where Clark lay on the floor there could be heard from the hallway the scuttle of retreating feet. Lex watched his father, his face blank.

Lionel lifted a foot and poked Clark in the side, with an expression that said his shoes were too expensive for this sort of thing. Clark didn't even squirm away; he'd transferred his wide eyes to Lex, and was watching him with the same intense, waiting focus Lex was directing at Lionel.

"Again you are allowing yourself to be drawn avay by zese petty distractions," Lionel said disapprovingly.

"Clark isn't a distraction." Lex's voice was flat, curling a little at the edges in something very like scorn. Lionel sighed, as a vampire much put upon.

"Even vorse," he said. "Haf you forgotten all your ambitions?"

"Your ambitions, you mean," said Lex. "I haven't forgotten. I've simply . . . redefined them."

He did smile at Clark then, and the way he did it excluded Lionel, enclosing the two of them in their own circle of warmth. It was as if he'd thrown a stone into a still pool. Clark grinned back companionably, and got up.

Lionel ignored him, splendidly.

"Very subtle," he said. "I see you haven't changed your modus operandi with your lovers."

"Lovers?" said Lex. "You mean the ones you murdered and drove away with threats?"

"I mean, the ones you let me murder and drive away with threats," said Lionel darkly. He didn't bother looking at Clark, whose grin had faded somewhat.

"Good point," said Lex. He sat up and leaned forward, placing his arms on the table with elaborate ease. "I let you drive away the others, Dad. That's the only reason why you succeeded."

The silence was like a wall of ice.

"Are you threatening me?" said Lionel, his accent suddenly clearing with amazing rapidity.

"No. I'm warning you," said Lex. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Have you really lost sight of your priorities to zis extent?" said Lionel.

"I told you," said Lex evenly. "I have new priorities now." Then, dismissing Lionel from his attention, he held out a hand to Clark. Clark went to him, giving Lionel a thoughtful green look as he passed.

Lionel's eyes narrowed.

Contrary to public conception, it didn't take much to get Lionel Luthor's attention. Lex would have said that all you needed to do was offer a back to stab. But it did take something unusual to provoke his interest, and Clark had just done that unusual thing.

He had looked at Lionel, and there had been no fear in his eyes.

"The door, Dad," Lex said pointedly.

"Zis isn't over, Lex," said Lionel, but it was all show. He let himself out with remarkable docility, and the reflection of his face in the glass of the expensive pictures he passed would have worried Lex, if he had seen it. It wasn't a face Lionel often wore. The last time he'd had the same expression, he had got married. Lex was probably one of the very few people who would know what was wrong with that.

His mother's village would have understood, but it had been razed to the ground a few centuries ago. Lionel hadn't wanted a lot of relatives cluttering up the wedding. He'd thought they'd make the place look untidy.

* * *

"What your father said," Clark was saying, still blissfully unaware of Lionel Luthor's interest. He was facing Lex, blinking a little in the sunlight that came in through the open window. Clark had suggested that they draw the curtains before they had got -- distracted, but Lex had refused. He liked the sun, he'd said. It was bracing.

Clark hadn't remembered until now that, well, Lex was a vampire. Lex should be in flames.

He wondered what it said about Lex that he was looking up at Clark as if the light didn't disturb him at all, smiling a little, as if he liked the look of the sun on Clark. He wondered what it said about himself that that didn't scare him.

No, that wasn't true. Clark couldn't imagine any kind of being who wouldn't be frightened of Lex. He was afraid. He just wasn't leaving. He didn't think he ever would be.

"About your other -- " He couldn't bring himself to say it, pathetic as that was. "About the others."

The smile slipped off Lex's face. He looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Was he -- " Clark wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Lying? But he didn't want to give Lex any more encouragement to lie than there already was. There was already more than enough deceit in their relationship to last them both several lifetimes, the gods knew.

Lex shook his head.

"He was telling the truth." He paused.

"You have to understand, Clark," Lex said, slowly. He hated to explain himself. "I've done some pretty bad things. It wasn't just my father. I like to think I've changed now, but I was -- I am a vampire. It's different."

Lex would rather pull out his own teeth (fangs) than admit weakness, but Clark made him a little crazy, made him break the rules he imposed on himself. Clark knew the feeling.

He touched Lex. The back of his head was warm from the sun, and Lex's eyes when he looked up were thrown into blue shadow.

"Lex," said Clark. "I know all about different."

<< >>

disclexia | discworld | smallville | fanfiction | mail