Notes:  I still haven’t had the time or the know-how to get my website up and running the way I would like, but I uploaded just this page for anyone who had bookmarked it and was checking for updates.  I’ve added some new parts to this story, and I’m currently working on it again, trying to get it finished.  I hope there are still at least a few people out there who remember it and are still interested!

 

Just a reminder, Warning:  this story is rated NC-17; it also contains at least one small spoiler for something that happens in Season Three.

 

 

 

The Greatest of These

by Cleo

 

 

 

Love is patient and is kind.  It does not envy, it is not proud.  Love is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered.  Love keeps no record of wrongs.  It does not rejoice in evil, but delights only in the truth.  Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.  Now abides faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these...is love.  *1 Corinthians 13:1*

 

Part One

 

Friday – December 3, 2010

 

Darkness surrounded the gothic monstrosity that was Wayne Manor, the only light in the cloudy, moonless night coming through the leaded panes of the windows of the study.  There, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson sat comfortably on a leather sofa, a warm fire roaring in the fireplace before them, Dick sifting through a stack of envelopes on the end table.

 

"Hey!  Your friend is getting hitched," Dick said in a bright tone, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

 

"Give me that," Bruce said, frowning suspiciously before snatching the little ivory-colored card from Dick’s hand.  "And stop opening my mail."

 

"Actually, it's addressed to both of us and Alfred, thank you very much.  Besides, I didn't technically open it.  Alfred did.  I just took it out and read it."

 

Bruce's dark eyes scanned over the card.  "Well, what do you know?  Lex and Clark are having a commitment ceremony."  He looked up to fix a withering gaze on Dick.  "Hitched," he said reprovingly, before swinging his arm over to smack his companion's head with the invitation.

 

"What?  That's not an appropriate term for it?" Dick laughed, before musing aloud, "Wonder which one of them will wear the white dress?  Well, I guess neither of them should really be wearing white," he said, grinning broadly at his own little joke.

 

"That's enough, Dick," Bruce said quietly, sternly.

 

"You know, Bruce, when you're mad at me and you say my name like that, it just sounds like you're calling me a..."

 

"Well, if the name fits," Bruce interrupted coolly.  "Seriously, Dick, enough with the childish jokes.  I've known Lex Luthor a very long time and he would never do something like this lightly.  He's been with Clark for years now.  I admire them for having the courage to do this...to let everyone know the seriousness of their commitment."  Bruce paused before pinning Dick with an intense scrutiny and adding, "They're completely monogamous.  And they love each other."

 

Dick squirmed uncomfortably under the dark gaze, unable to maintain eye contact.  "Guys can love each other without making asses of themselves, Bruce.  If I didn't know better, I would think you were wanting me to catch the bouquet," Dick said derisively, finally looking up with a little anger showing in his eyes.  "So are we going to this thing or not?"

 

Bruce stared at Dick for a moment, then visibly withdrawing into himself, black eyes going blank and cold, he answered, "I am.  I think it would be best if you didn't."  He stood and left the room, every muscle in his graceful body rigid and tense.

 

Dick stared at his retreating form, at war with himself to keep from going after Bruce, and finally muttered, "Well, fuck..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Home...finally.  Clark closed the door of the penthouse behind him with a soft click, resting his back against it for a moment, taking comfort in the solid sturdiness of the paneled wood.  He forced his face to relax into a pleasant expression and breathed deeply, the warm air and delicious aroma of Mary's cooking infusing him with the first bit of peace he had felt all day.  Dropping his briefcase on the foyer table and shedding his blazer, he went in search of Lex.

 

Entering the study quietly, Clark leaned against the doorframe to watch Lex for a moment, affectionately scanning the handsome face and elegantly lithe body.  Lex was leaning back into the leather sofa, his eyes closed, and his long, graceful fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.  His laptop was open on the coffee table, stacks of paper scattered around it, completely covering the glass surface.

 

"Hey, Lex.  Rough day?" Clark asked softly before crossing the room to press a warm kiss to the lips that had been tightly compressed a moment earlier, but that opened, soft and willing now.

 

Lex relaxed into the kiss before pulling away to answer, "Difficult buyout.  Somehow I’ve found myself playing the part of an unofficial mediator.  That's a joke, isn't it?" he said with a wan smile.  "We're dealing with some very old, very intense rivalries here, and the factory workers' jobs are their last concern right now."

 

"What happened to the professional mediator?"  Clark settled into the sofa, sideways, one leg tucked beneath him as he laid a comforting hand on Lex's chest and began rubbing relaxing little circles through the smooth cotton of his shirt.

 

Lex gave him another exhausted look before answering, "The guy 'regretfully declined' the job - he quit - after two days.  I'm in the process of hiring a replacement.  Hey...what's Martha up to these days?  Is she available?" he asked, jokingly.

 

"She could probably handle the job," Clark said, laughing.  "Anyone who could negotiate a truce between you and your father... between you and my father...she would have those suits sitting at her kitchen table swapping muffin recipes by the time she was done with them."

 

Lex laughed a little at that image before sobering again.  "God.  Christmas is just a few weeks away," he said, beginning to rub and pinch between his eyes again.  "Nothing says 'Merry Christmas' like a pink-slip."

 

"You'll think of something, Lex.  You always do," Clark assured him solemnly.

 

There was a note of worry in Clark's voice that caused Lex to look up and scan his partner's face, finally seeing the tension and fatigue drawn there.  "Clark?  How was your day?  Did something happen?"

 

Clark sighed deeply, and hesitated before answering simply, "Larry Lewis," hating the immediate stiffening of Lex's body, and knowing that any hope of a peaceful, relaxing dinner was shattered.  In the week since Lewis had kidnapped Lex, been captured by Superman, then escaped from custody, there had already been three emergency situations, crises engineered by the mind of the genius lunatic, each one more dangerous and challenging for Superman than the one before.

 

"What was it this time?" Lex asked in a soft, almost resigned voice.

 

"A daycare center...a bomb."

 

"Oh god.  I didn't watch the news tonight.  Came home and went straight to work.  Was anyone hurt?"

 

"No, but it was so close this time.  He's testing me, you know.  Trying to figure out my abilities, and my limitations.  This time, I had a few seconds...seconds, Lex...to try to figure out what the hell to do," Clark said, eyes wide and sounding a little frantic.

 

Lex stroked Clark's thigh soothingly, encouraging him to tell the story and get it off his chest.  "What happened?"

 

"I was sitting at my desk and Lois caught the story coming over the wire.  The bomber had called the police to tell them when the bomb was scheduled to go off.  I knew it was him; he claimed to be 'Lex Luthor', of course," Clark said.  "I got there within a couple of minutes and still...there were only a few seconds left on the timer.  The thing was taped to the floor under a desk.  They had started evacuating as soon as the police called, but it happened so fast.  There wasn't time to get everyone out of the building," Clark continued, his voice growing more and more agitated.

 

"Relax, Clark," Lex said quietly, reaching up to slip his fingers into Clark's soft curls, massaging his scalp with gentle fingertips.

 

"The bomb squad hadn't even gotten there yet.  All I had time to do was move the desk and lay on the bomb.  Just dig my fingers into the floor and hang on."

 

"God!  Clark," Lex burst out, pulling Clark's shirt up to examine the skin beneath, running his hand over the smooth, unblemished flesh.  "You're okay?" he asked in a shaky voice.

 

Clark gave him a wry grin.  "Well, I can't say it didn't sting a bit.  My skin was even red for a little while after.  It was pretty scary.  I've been in explosions, but never anything that strong in direct contact with my body before."  Lex took a shuddering breath and opened his mouth to speak, but didn't, instead bending low to kiss the golden skin beneath his palm.

 

Soberly, Clark asked, "What if I hadn't made it in time?  What if I hadn't been in the office when the story came in?  I really should think of some way to make it possible for the police to contact me directly...some way that won't blow my cover."

 

Lex looked down, not wanting Clark to see the worry and guilt in his eyes.  The truth was, Lex had considered that before and had thought of several ways it could be accomplished.  But he was afraid that if Clark were at the beck and call of all of Metropolis, he would lose him; the demand for Superman's time would be so great.  He knew it was selfish to want to keep Clark to himself, but he justified it with the knowledge that being on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, would be harmful for Clark as well.  No one, not even Superman, would be able to stay sane for long under that kind of pressure.

 

Evasively, Lex answered, "Let's just be glad you were in the office and that you made it in time, and everyone was okay."

 

"Yeah, this time.  But the building took a hit.  There's a huge hole in the floor, and the daycare will have to be closed until it can be determined whether or not the foundation has been compromised.  Of course, Lois was the first reporter on the scene.  She'll be doing the article about the bombing and Superman's part in the incident, but 'Clark Kent'," he said, laying his hand on his own chest, "will be covering the effect this is going to have on the families that used that daycare."

 

"Do they have another facility they can use?" Lex asked.

 

"No.  This was a privately run center for the children of single moms that live in the area.  They barely make ends meet as it is.  I don't know what they're going to do," he trailed off uncertainly.

 

Lex smiled at that; he knew a subtle hint when he heard one.  In all the years they had been together, Clark rarely asked Lex directly for anything expensive, but when there was someone in need, he would drop little hints.  He leaned over to lightly kiss Clark's jaw before whispering in his ear, "I think LexCorp may be able to come up with something."

 

Lex smiled even more broadly when that little statement earned him an all-encompassing hug, and a throaty murmur asking, "For that, you do realize you're getting laid tonight, don't you?"

 

Lex laughed.  It was fun being a philanthropist.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The bald man's hands were steady as he immersed the green-tinted chunk of rock into a beaker full of fuming hydrochloric acid, then sat back, removing his protective gloves to make notes as he observed the reaction.  Nothing unusual or unexpected discovered from this little experiment, he noted with disappointment before neutralizing the acid with sodium hydroxide and removing his facemask.

 

Larry looked down at the huge, green stone set into the ring encircling his finger and wondered yet again why the one who called himself 'Lex Luthor' had purchased a ring made from this particular type of meteor rock.  It was a mystery that he was determined to solve and in his research, he had already learned that the rock was found only in Smallville, Kansas - a small agricultural town where he knew both Luthor and his lover had once lived.  Sentimental reasons, perhaps?  Instinct told Larry there was more to it than that.

 

He glanced around his makeshift laboratory which consisted of a few marble-topped tables he had set up in the living room of his apartment, just a few blocks from LexCorp Towers, and took a quick count of the meteor rocks remaining.  He still had several large stones and if he broke them into pieces, he would have enough for many more experiments.

 

His time since his escape had been almost solely spent on testing the "Superman" that had ruined his abduction of the imposter a week ago.  He had a good idea now of what the caped man was capable of and it would be a challenge indeed to eradicate the scourge.  Larry's face broke into a malevolent grin at the thought.  He loved a good challenge, but he had a destiny to fulfill first.  He needed to concentrate now on finding a way to eliminate the imposter and take his place as the one true Lex Luthor.

 

Immediately following his escape, it had been ridiculously easy to invade Luthor's home.  One might think it would be more difficult than ever, but Larry knew that while the security team scrambled frantically to implement stricter-than-ever protection methods, they couldn't immediately cover every heretofore-unguarded nook and cranny.  And they were wrongly confident in their assumption that he would lay low for a while.  So it was, that he had managed to slip in and out again, unnoticed, as he had installed some surveillance tools of his own.  Unfortunately, the old housekeeper had shown up earlier than expected, forcing him to abort his mission prematurely.

 

Now, a break-in would be much more difficult.  The roof, the stairwells, the fire escapes...all heavily monitored.  It would not be impossible for him to breech the tight security, but until he had knowledge of the whereabouts of each and every surveillance camera and guard post, he couldn't chance it.  At least he had had time to install some of his own cameras in Luthor's bedroom.

 

That thought caused an immediate stirring in his groin, and he quickly put his equipment and notes away before going to his bedroom.  He left the lights off, making himself comfortable on the foot of his bed, in the dark.  Picking up the remote, he turned his three televisions on with a flick of his thumb, settling in patiently at the sight of Luthor's empty bedroom, three cameras providing three different angles of the large bed.

 

Larry had almost convinced himself that he had installed cameras in the bedroom first because that was where Luthor and his lover, Clark Kent, were most likely to give up any information, any secrets that he could use against them.  But at the sight of Kent entering the bedroom now, Larry sat up straighter, eyes glued to the screens, and knew that he was deluding himself, knew why he had really planted cameras in the bedroom first.  Clark Kent was...beautiful.  He felt the familiar lust and anger building at the sight of the tall, perfect man that should be his, not the imposter's.  And increasing his rage tenfold, was the memory of the little blurb he saw just this morning in the newspaper; the announcement of Luthor's intention to unite with Kent publicly in a commitment ceremony.

 

Luthor now appeared onscreen, and he and Kent were smiling, laughing, talking, and Larry cursed in frustration yet again that his own companion, Todd, had failed to bring him the audio equipment he had wanted to install along with the cameras.  Larry knew that without the audio, his continued monitoring of these cameras made him no more than a pathetic voyeur, but though disgusted with himself, with his weakness, he still leaned forward eagerly, moving closer to the screens.

 

Larry watched tensely as Kent began stripping, pausing between the removal of each item of clothing to give his lover a teasing smile.  When he was naked, every inch of his perfect body exposed, he stepped toward Luthor, moving gracefully, stalking the smaller man, who was laughing and walking backwards, hands held up, palms out, as if warding Kent off.  In a sudden, almost inhumanly fast lunge, the sleek, muscled body captured Luthor, dragging him in close and covering his lips in a deep kiss, mouths open wide, flashes of tongue and teeth visible in the camera angle playing on the middle television.

 

Kent broke the kiss and with a broad, blinding smile, playfully pushed Luthor back onto the bed and began divesting him of his clothing.  Luthor watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, biting down on his lower lip and wincing when Kent drug his boxer briefs seductively off his hips, elastic momentarily catching on his erection, then suddenly springing free, causing his swollen cock to bob and weave for a moment.  Larry could see Kent laughing as he bent to kiss Luthor's lips, then began mouthing a trail downward, tongue pausing to lave each nipple before drawing the little nub of dark flesh between his lips and suckling.  The wet tongue continued downward, stopping long enough to thrust into Luthor's navel, before finally landing on the very tip of his lover's penis.

 

Larry ground his teeth in anger and frustration as he watched Kent wetly mouthing the shaft of the imposter's cock, flat tongue bathing the rigid organ until it glistened, open-mouthed kisses nibbling and sucking along the side.  Every loving look, every gentle smile Kent gave Luthor was captured clearly by the camera that had been carefully concealed within the alarm clock on the nightstand.

 

The beautiful young man ran his tongue around his full lips, his eyes closing in bliss as he opened his mouth wide and slid down over the bulbous knob of his lover's erection.  Larry could see Kent's plump, wet, upper lip sliding back and forth, caressing the ridge of the straining penis as he sucked on just the head.  Kent looked as if he were in heaven, eating something indescribably delicious, a sharp contrast to Larry's own companion, Todd, who couldn't manage to give even the most rudimentary blowjob without gagging, eyes wide with alarm.

 

From this camera angle, a little to the side and slightly behind the imposter's head, Larry could squint and effectively imagine himself as the recipient of the teasing mouth-work, and felt his own dick growing increasingly harder.  He watched as Kent withdrew his lips, exposing the shiny wetness of Luthor's cock, tapping the swollen head against the flat of his tongue, before descending again, repeating the motion over and over, slowly and seductively, sliding his mouth a little further down the shaft with each plunge.  Then his eyes opened and looked intently up at Luthor as his mouth slipped down, down, down until his lips were grazing the pale, sparse hair at the base.

 

Luthor rose up onto one elbow to reach forward and stroke his lover's face, fingertips gliding over a hollowed cheek before moving to weave through the thick, dark hair of the head that was now vigorously bobbing over his crotch.  Kent tirelessly swallowed his lover's erection again and again and soon, Larry could see the muscles of Luthor's body twitch and tighten, even as his own muscles grew tense.  Larry thought he may reach a climax of his own just by watching the exquisite young Kent in action, but he let himself be distracted by the view on another television screen, a camera angle that allowed him to see Luthor's face in his moment of release, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and features twisted with pleasure...pleasure that should have been mine, Larry thought angrily.

 

If this were himself and Todd, Larry thought bitterly, at this point Todd would be rushing to the bathroom, retching, to wash out his mouth.  Not Kent.  Oh no, Kent swallowed everything his lover gave him, then smiling and nuzzling his groin, he lapped gently at Luthor's cock and balls and lower, underneath, cleaning every crack, every crevice like a mother cat cleans a kitten, only stopping reluctantly because Luthor's body was twitching in post-orgasmic sensitivity.  They were laughing, Larry saw, as Luthor drew his legs together and playfully pushed Kent's head away from his, no doubt hypersensitive genitals.

 

But now the imposter was spreading his legs wide again and pulling Kent up into his arms, kissing him lazily, possessively.  Larry watched with barely contained fury as Luthor wrapped a hand around Kent's rigid penis, rubbing and pressing it against his own belly, before raising his legs to hook them over his lover's hips, offering his body in blatant invitation.  Kent pulled away, just long enough to retrieve a bottle of lubrication and tissues from the nightstand, leaning in so close to the camera in the alarm clock that Larry could clearly see, in minute detail, every one of the sparse dark hairs that furrowed smoothly down the muscled chest...felt that he could almost reach out and touch the bulging biceps that moved ever closer to the camera.

 

Kent returned to his position between Luthor's legs, and side-by-side television screens allowed Larry to simultaneously see each man's face, see their knowing smiles and heated looks as they stroked each other's chests, teased each other's nipples, caressed each other's faces.  Larry could see their lips moving, but was suddenly glad he didn't have audio because just the thought of what they were saying to each other was making him nauseous.  Kent nodded and smiled in response to something Luthor said and after squeezing some of the lubrication from the little bottle onto his fingertips, he leaned forward to lick and suck his lover's lips before thrusting his tongue inside.  Luthor's slim body arched and squirmed beneath him, as one of Kent's hands disappeared between his lover's legs and the other reached up to pet his smooth scalp.

 

Larry moved closer and knelt in front of the televisions, the flickering light playing over his cruel features.  "Whore," he hissed, as Luthor lifted his legs, tilting his hips up and spreading his ass.  Rising up onto his knees, Kent took his erection in hand and slowly, carefully penetrated his partner, his strong thighs surrounding Luthor's buttocks.  Larry trembled with rage at the look of pure ecstasy and peace that spread over Luthor's face.  My ecstasy, Larry thought, my peace.

 

With palms laying flat, fingers splayed, Kent stroked the underside of Luthor's thighs, slipping down and under to caress his bottom, then gliding back up to rest behind his knees, pushing them higher and spreading them wide.  Hard and aroused, Larry watched the performance playing before him.  Watched as Kent thrust increasingly faster and harder; watched as both men's faces grew shiny with sweat; watched as the lusty mating reached its natural conclusion and Kent's beautiful face crumpled in ecstatic release.

 

Darkly furious, Larry stood to go in search of the pitiful substitution for Clark Kent he had been using, knowing that what Todd had to offer would leave him frustrated and unsatisfied.  He had tried to make the fucking better, more intense by calling Todd, "Clark", but after almost a week of seeing the real Clark Kent in action, he was tired of pretending.

 

So he would have to use Todd tonight, but he consoled himself with the decision he had just reached; before the month was out...no, before that commitment ceremony took place, Clark Kent would belong to him and the imposter would be dead.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Part Two

 

Saturday, December 18th

                  

Jonathan stood in front of the refrigerator, sipping his early morning coffee and running his hand over his head while reading for the umpteenth time, the little card that was stuck to the fridge door with a magnet.  "Are they really going to do this?" he asked with a weary sigh.

                  

"Jonathan?"  Martha looked up from the list she was scrutinizing to study her husband, her head tilted in question and a trace of hurt in her eyes.  "Where's that tone coming from?  You said you were okay with this.  The ceremony is less than a week away, we're meeting with the planner today, and the flowers and food are already paid for.  Please don't have a change of heart now.  It would hurt Clark so badly."

                  

Jonathan crossed the room to sit at the table beside Martha saying, "Relax, honey."  He paused to sigh again, deeply before continuing, "I am okay with it.  It's just...Clark says he has a right to his feelings; that he has a right to stand up before God and everybody and commit himself for life to Lex."

                  

Martha nodded, saying, "He does, Jon.  He's happy with Lex.  They're happy together."

                  

"I know, I know.  So I support his decision.  I’m okay with this.  But I have feelings too, Martha.  Can't I at least feel a little disappointed that my son's life didn't turn out the way I imagined?  Don't I have a right to my feelings?"

                  

Martha picked up her husband's calloused hand and placed a soft kiss on it before answering, "You do, sweetie.  You have a right to your feelings, too.  Just do me a favor?  Share your feelings with me.  Don't upset Clark, please?  He has enough to deal with right now."  She kissed his hand again, before asking, "This isn't about Lex, is it?"

                  

"No, Martha.  It really isn't.  You know that.  Lex is a pretty good guy," he said before chuckling a little and saying, "I remember a day when you probably thought you would never hear me say that."

                  

Martha laughed a little and agreed, "I remember those days too."  Then her smile grew softer.  "I also remember how happy you made Clark the first time you said, 'You know...for a Luthor, Lex isn't half bad'," she said in a deep, perfect imitation of Jonathan's booming voice.  "Clark knew what you were trying to say," she said with a fond smile.

                  

She went back to squinting at the checklist, asking, "Jonathan, are you about ready to go?  We're supposed to meet the boys at the chapel at ten-thirty, and it's going to take about three hours to get there.  It's just this side of Metropolis."

                  

"I'll be ready, soon as I finish my coffee," he said, taking another sip.

                  

"And don't forget...we need to stop at Mr. Anderson's farm to pick up the Christmas trees on the way.  Let's see how many we need to bring," she said, flipping her list over to consult the other side.  "Goodness!  Three for the Daily Planet offices, five for LexCorp, one for the chapel, and two for Clark and Lex.  It's so sweet of them to give Mr. Anderson the business.  He and Minnie have really been struggling to make ends meet."

                  

"That's a lot of trees.  Good thing Bill said we could borrow the flatbed."  Jonathan looked puzzled for a moment before asking, "Why do Clark and Lex need two trees?"

                  

Martha stood and crossed the room to put her coffee cup in the sink, mumbling something under her breath that Jonathan couldn't quite make out.

                  

"What's that honey," he asked.

                  

"For the bedroom.  I said that they want one of the trees for their bedroom," Martha repeated a little more loudly than she had intended.

                  

"Why would they...wait a minute.  Is this kind of like the ring?" Jonathan asked, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. 

                  

"If by 'kind of like the ring' you mean, 'does it have something to do with'," and Martha whispered the next word to protect Jonathan's apparently delicate sensibilities, "sex, then yes.  I'm pretty sure it's 'kind of like the ring'," she said with a little smile.  "All Clark said was that a tree in the bedroom is one of their Christmas traditions.  I didn't ask for details."

                  

"Good God," Jonathan said.  "Is everything with those two about sex?"

                  

Martha pursed her lips and thought for a moment, as though the question hadn't been meant rhetorically.  "Well, they do seem to have a very satisfying love life."

                  

"Stop, stop," Jonathan said, holding his hands up in surrender.  "I have my limits and a discussion about Clark's love life is definitely pushing the boundaries of them."

                  

Martha giggled as she began wiping the tabletop with a dishrag.  "Finish your coffee, Jonathan."

                  

Jonathan took another swallow from his mug before propping his chin in his hand, sighing again, and saying, "You know, I'd be a lot more okay with this ceremony of theirs if they didn't want me to stand up and say something at the reception."

                  

"Of course!  I should have known," Martha said, laughing.  "That's what's really bothering you."  Jon grinned at her a little and she continued, "It won't be so bad.  Have you come up with anything yet?"

                  

"I've got a few ideas."

                  

She settled back into her chair, folded her arms, and smiled encouragingly.  "Let's hear what you've got so far."

                  

"Well, I thought I would start by saying, 'Clark, Lex... today is the first day of the rest of your lives."  Jonathan stopped, puzzled, when Martha winced and began shaking her head.  "What?  What's wrong with that?"

                  

"Nothing's wrong with it.  It's just...let's see if we can come up with something a little more original for you," she suggested cautiously.

                  

"That wasn't original?" Jonathan asked, genuinely confused.

                  

"No, sweetie.  That was...well... a platitude."

                  

"A what-a-tude?"

                  

Martha giggled.  "A platitude.  You know, a tired old cliche.  You sometimes have a tendency to use them a bit much," she gently explained.

                  

"I do not..."

                  

"You do," she interrupted bluntly, then quickly added, "sweetheart," to soften the blow.

                  

"I could change it to something like 'Lex, why are you buying the cow when you're apparently already getting lots of milk for free', if you'd rather," Jonathan suggested helpfully.  "Is that better?"

                  

"Jonathan!" Martha scolded, slapping him on the arm.  Then with a kiss to his cheek before heading for the door, "I think it needs more work."

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The long, black limousine rolled smoothly down the highway leading to the outskirts of Metropolis.  Clark tilted his head to better enjoy the clear blue, cloudless sky outside the window, breathing in deeply the air that was growing increasingly fresher as they left the city behind.  For a moment, he was almost able to forget the bodyguards riding in the front of the limo as well as the ones following them in a separate car.

                  

Lex's mind was apparently following the same line of thought, for he said, "It would be nice if Lewis could be apprehended before the ceremony.  I'm not sure there'll be enough room in the chapel for all the bodyguards."

                  

"Lex...I just thought of something," Clark said suddenly.  "What if Lewis pulls one of his tricks during the ceremony, and 'Superman' has to rush off?  Oh god..."

                  

"Relax, Clark.  We'll manage.  Let's see.  What could we tell the guests," Lex mused aloud.  "Got it.  Before the ceremony even begins, we'll tell the guests that I'm expecting an unavoidable business call and that we may have to interrupt the ceremony for a little while."

                  

"Lex..."

                  

"I know, it's not a great explanation and everyone would think I was a jerk for taking a call during the ceremony, but...can you think of something better?"

                  

"No," Clark sighed.  "I'm just going to have to find the guy before then," he said, smiling weakly at Lex.  "We haven't heard from him since the bomb in the daycare, but I know he hasn't just gone away.  He's planning something, but it's not going to be easy to find him when he won't come out of hiding."  Clark turned his head to stare out at the passing scenery, mumbling, "Like I haven't got enough problems without Larry Lewis screwing everything up."

                  

Lex looked up quickly at that remark, eyes intent on Clark's face.  "Clark?  What do you mean?  Is something wrong?"

                  

Eyes downcast, Clark said hesitantly, "Not really.  Nothing new anyway."

                  

"This is about the ceremony, isn't it," Lex asked quietly.  "People at work still giving you a hard time?"

                  

"Yes.  No, I mean...they aren't doing anything intentionally.  It's just...it's funny how uncomfortable people have been around me since we made the announcement.  Suddenly, they have trouble making eye contact or saying anything more than an awkward 'Hi Clark'."  Clark thought for a moment, his forehead creased in confusion, before continuing.  "They've known for a long time now that we live together, and most of them have been pretty cool about that.  I'm just not sure why the idea of two guys truly loving each other, committing themselves to each other for life, is so much harder to accept."

                  

"Give them time, Clark.  People are uncomfortable with what they don't understand.  You know that, babe," Lex said soothingly.  "The ones that matter will come around and eventually accept the idea of this, too.  The ones that don't?  Well, who needs them?" he said, smiling.

                  

"I know, I know.  Those people aren't really the problem though."  Clark's eyes suddenly grew more shadowed, and he bit his lip before continuing.  "I've gotten some hate mail...anonymous, of course," he said with a bitter twist of his lips.  "I'll get one of these letters at work, and god...where does all that hatred come from?  What did I ever do to these people," he asked, looking up at Lex with confused eyes.  He sighed deeply.  "So after reading one of these letters, to make myself feel better, I look around for a friendly face, and no one will look me in the eye."  Clark paused briefly, looking down at his feet before saying, "I wasn't going to tell you about this.  It just gets to be too much sometimes, you know?"

                  

"Clark, you're supposed to tell me these things.  We're in this together.  You get these letters because we're in the public eye.  We're easy targets, but my secretary screens my mail, so I don't have to deal with it.  I'm so sorry that you have to handle this alone on a daily basis."  Lex moved closer to Clark and slipped his fingertips under Clark's chin, gently nudging up until Clark met his eyes.  "Call me, Clark...at work.  Anytime it gets to be too much, just call."

                  

Clark nodded before closing his eyes and leaning forward to touch his forehead to Lex's.  "Well, at least the people from work who are actually invited to the ceremony are okay with everything.  Lois, Jimmy, and Perry have been great."

                  

"See?  There you go.  The people who matter, the people who are going to be there for us, will all be friendly faces," Lex said encouragingly.  "Speaking of people who will be there...Bruce called to RSVP.  I invited them to stay with us when they come for the ceremony."

                  

"Bruce?  Staying at the penthouse?" Clark asked, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably.

                  

"Clark?  Is that a problem?"

                  

"No!  No, not at all.  I just... No, it's fine," he said a little shortly.

                  

Lex paused for a moment, knowing what was worrying Clark.  He reached up to cup Clark’s face in his palm, softly stroking his thumb over the full bottom lip, before saying, his voice gentle, "Clark, we were kids.  It's ancient history."

                  

"I know, Lex.  It's not a problem...really.  Besides, I know he's with Dick now."

                  

Lex leaned into Clark, until their bodies were pressed closely together, faces barely an inch apart, before murmuring softly, "Even if he weren't with Dick, I would still want you.  Only you, Clark."  He covered Clark’s mouth in a deep kiss meant to prove his words true.  Lex knew that Clark would need that reassurance when he found out that Dick would not be coming with Bruce and Alfred.

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Oh, Clark," Martha said, a little breathless.  "It's beautiful!"  She turned around slowly in the little chapel, taking in the graceful stone arches and elaborate stained-glass panels behind the marble altar.

                  

"Isn't it great?" Clark asked.  He ran a hand down the smooth, carved wood of the heavy benches.  "Lex said these pews are from around 1805, but everything else is original."  He smiled, remembering the first time he had seen the chapel.

                  

When they had first begun making plans, right after Thanksgiving, Clark had said that he wanted a very traditional and romantic ceremony, beautiful and dignified.  Lex had smiled a very mysterious smile and said, "I know where we can have the ceremony," then had refused to answer any of Clark's questions adding, "Just let me show you."

                  

They had driven outside the city limits of Metropolis and turned off the main highway onto a rural road, then after a short distance, turned onto an even smaller road, heavily flanked by old trees whose branches formed a dense canopy above them.  Then Clark had seen it.

                  

In a clearing at the end of the wooded lane, was an ancient-looking stone chapel, a charming, miniature version of the old stone mansion in Smallville.  Pulling into the circular drive that wound in front of the chapel, Lex had asked, "Well, Clark.  What do you think?"  He had watched his lover closely as he stepped out of the car, smiling then laughing at the huge smile that had covered Clark's face.

                  

"This is perfect, Lex.  What is this place?"

                  

"This would be the Luthor ancestral family chapel," Lex had said with a pleased grin.  "It was originally located on the castle grounds of the property in Scotland.  My father had it shipped over at the same time as the castle, but Mom fell in love with the chapel, so my Dad brought it here, close to Metropolis, instead of sending it to Smallville."  Lex had stared at the quaint little building, his eyes growing distant with old memories as he added, "Mom was really sick by then, and couldn't travel far.  She came here every day that she was able...until she was hospitalized."

                  

Clark had moved to stand behind Lex, wrapping his arms around Lex's waist and pressing a loving kiss to his neck before whispering in his ear, "It's beautiful, Lex.  Thank you."  They had gone into the little chapel, and after giving Clark a tour, Lex had guided him to one of the pews where they had sat, discussing their plans in hushed tones as if the deity that neither was even sure existed was present, listening.  After some discussion, they had both agreed upon traditional, religious vows for the ceremony.

                  

Lex had been taught by his father, that god and religion was for the weak-minded, a fairy-tale invented by those in power to keep the underlings in check.  But when Lex had learned the secret of Clark's origins, he found himself wondering about other seemingly impossible things, about the conceivable existence of god.  After all, before the first appearance of "Superman", there had been billions of people who hadn't believed there was intelligent life on other planets because they had never seen proof of it, but it hadn't made Clark any less real.

                  

And though Jonathan and Martha Kent had never been deeply religious people, had not attended Sunday church services on a regular basis, they had raised Clark to believe that there was a higher power that was all-knowing and omnipotent.  For most of his life, Clark had accepted this in a vague and unquestioning way, but when his parents told him where he had come from, he had begun to rethink everything.  He had even wondered about the possibility that someone from his planet, or another, had visited earth at the dawn of mankind, inspiring primitive man's first concept of and belief in a divine being.

                  

And so it was that Lex and Clark found their beliefs meeting squarely in the middle, as was often the case, though they came from diametrically opposing backgrounds.  Unsure and ambivalent, but both wanting to believe in something greater than themselves.

                  

There in the Luthor ancestors' place of worship, they had sat on a hard, wooden bench, their soft whispers mingling with gentle nuzzling, chaste kisses becoming deep and passionate, hands roaming tenderly.  And despite what some in the religious community believed about love between two people of the same sex, Lex and Clark had both agreed...it felt right.  And if there was a god, they had felt no censure from him as they loved each other that day in the chapel.

                  

Clark, lost in his memories, jumped a little when his mother suddenly brought him back to the present with, "Clark?"  She laughed softly and asked, "Should I even ask you what you're thinking about?  That's an awfully big smile."

                  

He put his arm around her waist, grinned down at her, and answered simply, "Just happy about the ceremony.  Everything's falling into place, Mom."

                  

A pleasant, feminine voice behind them agreed, "It sure is.  I've never seen a ceremony come together so beautifully in just one month's time."

                  

"Carol...hi," Clark said.  "Carol, I'd like you to meet my Mom.  Mom, this is the ceremony planner, Carol."

                  

"Hello, Carol.  We've spoken on the phone a few times," Martha said, smiling graciously.

                  

"Well, this is our last meeting before the ceremony, so let's compare notes and see if we've got everything covered," Carol said cheerfully, leading Clark and Martha over to a pew and calling, "Come on, guys," to Jonathan and Lex who had just completed Lex's tour of the chapel and were discussing how the ancient building had been reconstructed when it was brought over from Scotland.

                  

"All right, Martha...you're taking care of the flowers, correct?"

                  

Martha nodded.  "Red and white roses and baby's breath...lots of greenery...holly and ivy.  And Jonathan and I brought the Christmas tree.  We'll set it up before we leave, but it's going to be decorated with fresh flowers and candles, so we'll have to wait until the morning of the ceremony to finish it."

                  

Carol nodded approvingly.  "I like it.  That sounds beautiful...simple and elegant."  She looked at Clark and Lex and continued, "And your friend Lana is taking care of the catering, right?"

                  

Lex answered, "Spoke with her yesterday.  It's under control."

                  

"Between your family and friends, there really isn't much for me to do.  I almost feel guilty taking your money," Carol said with a sly smile.  She consulted her notes again, and her smile faded as she looked up.  "I do have some bad news.  Lex, the priest you wanted to perform the ceremony is not going to be able to do it.  The bishop has forbidden him to," she said softly, before adding, "I'm sorry."

                  

Lex shrugged, hoping his disappointment didn't show.  The priest had been the one to christen Lex and had attended his mother during her illness, performing last rites at her death.  It would have been nice to have him officiate and Lex knew it would have pleased his mother, but he wasn't surprised...had expected it really, knowing the Catholic church’s position on gay unions.  Apparently not even the Luthor name and money could influence the bishop's feelings on the matter.  He asked simply, "What do we do now?"

                  

"I know a wonderful Unitarian minister that performs a lot of same-sex unions in the Metropolis area.  He said he would be honored to perform the ceremony for you.  I've already asked him to pencil you in, I just need to confirm it with him if you guys approve," Carol said.

                  

Clark and Lex looked at each other for a moment before nodding simultaneously, Clark answering, "That sounds fine.  Go ahead and confirm.  Thanks, Carol."

                  

Carol smiled in understanding.  "He's a great guy.  He'll make sure your ceremony is dignified and special.  And your parents are going to speak at the reception, right?  That's going to be a nice, personal touch."

                  

Lex's face was smooth and unreadable as he said, "Well, Jonathan and Martha will be speaking.  My father isn't going to be able to attend."

                  

"Oh Lex," Martha began, her face full of concern.

                  

Lex smiled reassuringly at her, waving a hand dismissingly.  "It's all right, Martha...really.  I didn't expect him to be able to get away.  He's in Europe through January."

           

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Jonathan slipped a heavy hand onto Lex's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze and saying, "Well, we'll manage without him or that priest."  Jonathan never even noticed the approving smile Martha was bestowing on her big, gruff, opinionated, and sometimes... surprisingly soft-hearted husband.

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Part Three

 

Wednesday, December 22nd

                  

"What do you see, Clark?"

                  

The handsome, dark-haired man sitting behind the steering wheel, binoculars in hand, rolled his eyes upward and ground his teeth in frustration.  Todd...my name's Todd, he reminded himself silently, carefully hiding his irritation from the large, bald man slouched in the back seat.

                  

Todd had known Larry for years.  They had been incarcerated in the same mental institution for the criminally insane, and the younger man had not been surprised at all when Larry had escaped; he had done it before, after all.  Larry was the smartest guy he knew.  They said he was a genius.  Todd was surprised however, when late one night, Larry, with a freshly-shaven head, had returned for him and under cover of darkness, had executed another brilliant escape, this time, Todd's.

                  

Everyone at the nuthouse knew about Larry's obsession with Lex Luthor...knew that Larry wanted to be Lex Luthor.  But Todd had not understood how serious the delusion was until he found himself out of the hospital and on the run with Larry, where he quickly realized the reason he had been "rescued" - his vague resemblance to Lex Luthor's lover, Clark Kent.

                  

In the days and nights that followed, Todd had been horrified to learn that he was expected to play the part of Larry's lover.  He could do it... had to do it now.  Larry was the only thing standing between Todd and the scary voices; the same voices that had forced him to kill his parents years ago.  Todd's blue eyes filled with tears at the memory...the memory of his mother screaming, his father begging, and blood everywhere.

                  

Todd had been deemed unfit to stand trial and had been incarcerated and treated with drugs...drugs that had cleared his mind and forced the voices to retreat.  Larry now kept him supplied with the medicines he needed.

                  

Todd didn't understand how Larry was able to meet their every need - money, drugs, information - by sitting in front of his computer, tapping away at the keys, but he knew that he wouldn't survive a day without his bald companion.  So he tolerated everything.  He endured the verbal abuse, the harsh and demanding orders, even the awkward and painful sexual encounters, because the alternatives were even worse:  recapture and a return to the hospital, to his tiny cell that felt like a cage, or starving under a bridge with the city's other homeless souls.  And worst of all, the return of the terrifying voices.

                  

At the moment, sitting comfortably on the plush leather seat in the warm car, stomach pleasantly full from the delicious lunch he had just eaten, and nothing more strenuous to do than spy on Luthor's lover, Todd was inclined to think he was getting a pretty fair deal.  He lifted the binoculars again as another group of people exited LexCorp Towers and a Mercedes pulled to a stop in front.

                  

"There he is, Boss," Todd said, using the only name other than "Lex" that his companion would accept without violence.  "Huh.  Wonder why he doesn't travel with bodyguards like Luthor does?  I see Kent and the old lady...the housekeeper.  You want me to grab him?"

                  

"No.  It's too early.  I want to do this at night when we're less likely to be seen.  Soon though," Larry said, coldly.

                  

Todd nodded, fighting down an uneasy thought that had just entered his mind.  Would Larry still keep him around when he had the real Clark Kent in his possession?

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                  

"Bruce!"  Lex shook the outstretched hand before pulling his old friend in for a brief hug.  "Good to see you, man.  Come in, come in."  Lex reached around Bruce to take the hand of the elderly gentleman standing behind him.  "Alfred, it's good to see you again."

                  

Clark stood a little nervously beside Lex, greeting Alfred first, then extending his hand to Bruce.  "Hello Bruce," he said, shaking the man's hand before asking, a puzzled look on his face, "Where's Dick?  Is he parking the car?"

                  

Bruce looked curiously at Lex, who quickly dropped his eyes to the floor.  "I'm afraid something's come up and Dick isn't going to be able to make it," Bruce answered smoothly.

                  

Clark glanced at Lex and there was a moment of awkward silence before Lex said, "I'm sorry to hear that.  Well, come on in.  Dinner will be ready shortly.  Can I interest you gentlemen in a glass of brandy while we wait?"  Lex placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, guiding the old man gently towards the study.

                  

Bruce smiled at Clark, that enigmatic smile that always put Clark on his guard and threw him a little off balance.  He indicated with his hand that Clark should go first and that he would follow, and as they walked down the hallway, Clark could feel Bruce's eyes on his back and he had to fight the uncomfortable urge to squirm.

                  

Entering the study, Clark moved to stand beside Lex as their guests settled comfortably in leather armchairs.  His fingers nervously traced the etched patterns in the glass of the dry bar cabinets as Lex poured two snifters of brandy, then turned to hand them to Clark, saying quietly, "Could you give these to Bruce and Alfred, babe," before pouring two more for himself and Clark.

                  

Clark's eyes widened a bit at the endearment, a pet name Lex normally used only when they were alone.  He knew that Lex was trying to reassure him, that he had seen the insecurity in his eyes, and Clark was frustrated with himself for being so transparent, especially in front of Bruce.  After serving their guests, he returned to Lex's side, taking the snifter that was held out to him, surprised yet again when Lex reached down to take his free hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.  Clark looked up at Lex, their eyes meeting for just an instant before Lex gave him a quick, soft smile, then turned to his guests.  "So how is everything in Gotham these days?"

                  

As the four men engaged in small talk, Clark was acutely aware of Bruce's studious gaze on him and Lex.  He saw the man's dark eyes flicker down to their clasped hands and back up to meet Clark's eyes, his lips curving in the faintest of smiles.  Try as he might, Clark couldn't begin to fathom the meaning behind the smile and realized that that was why Bruce unsettled him so badly.  Was Bruce amused?  Mocking?  Jealous?  Or simply pleased that his old friend had found happiness?  Clark again found himself struggling not to fidget and was relieved when Mary called them to dinner.

                  

The meal passed pleasantly.  Mary joined them; normally, she ate a light snack in the late afternoon, saying that an old woman her age couldn't eat such heavy meals so close to bedtime.  But Clark had noticed that on the occasions Alfred visited, she would make an exception to this rule, apparently enjoying his company enough to brave indigestion.

                  

Clark surveyed his dinner companions.  Mary and Alfred were quietly conversing over dessert while Lex and Bruce, laughing loudly, reminisced over some of their more adventurous exploits at Excelsior Prep.  Occasionally, Lex would attempt to draw Clark into the conversation, but it was a little hard to join in on a story about something that happened a thousand miles away from Smallville and when Clark was only eight years old.  He really didn't mind though.  Being left out and forgotten was infinitely preferable to being the object of Bruce's intense scrutiny.

                  

Clark was barely listening until he heard Bruce's amused chuckle.  "You never could take me at fencing, Lex, and you never will.  How about a match, tomorrow morning, to prove it?  Though, I'm sure it will be more of a lesson than a match."

                  

Lex grinned good-naturedly.  "You're on, you conceited bastard."

                  

Glancing over at Bruce, Clark discovered that he was once again on the receiving end of the man's indecipherable gaze.  This time, though uncomfortable, Clark returned the look and Bruce smiled, offering kindly, "Do you fence, Clark?  Why don't you join us?"

                  

"I don't...I'm not really very good," Clark said awkwardly.  "Lex has given me a few lessons, but apparently I have two left feet," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

                  

Bruce laughed and said, "Well, I'm a much better teacher than Lex.  You have to know the sport to teach it," he said with a mischievous wink in Lex's direction.

                  

Clark considered.  He knew that it was childish to worry about Lex being alone with Bruce, but the offer was tempting.  However, he had a job, he had responsibilities, so he reluctantly answered, "I can't.  There's a city council meeting tomorrow morning that I'm supposed to cover."

                  

"Maybe next time then," Bruce said.

                  

Clark nodded and smiled politely, standing to help Mary as she began to clear the dinner dishes, and trying not to be disturbed by the implication that Bruce and Lex would have a "next time."

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                  

"Why didn't you tell me Dick wasn't coming?"  The bedroom door had barely closed behind them before Clark found the question spilling out of his mouth.

                  

Lex sighed deeply.  "You don't waste any time do you?"  He turned to rest his hands lightly on Clark's waist before answering.  "Bruce mentioned that he and Dick were having some problems.  I didn't say anything because I really thought they would work things out and that Dick would be coming with him."  Lex pulled Clark's shirttail from his waistband, untucking it to slip his hands under and rub the warm skin beneath.  "You're not happy about the fencing match tomorrow either, are you?"

                  

"Oh, I've got no problem with the fencing.  It's the shower in the gym afterwards that's bothering me," Clark muttered darkly.

                  

Lex's eyes lit up with amusement, his face breaking into a grin.  "You've been watching too much porn, Clark.  Nothing's going to happen in the showers... promise."

                  

"I don't have to watch porn to get ideas about you, naked and wet and all alone with a guy you used to have sex with, who will also be naked and wet," Clark said irately.

                  

Lex reached up to rub Clark's shoulder, asking gently, "Don't you know me better than that, Clark?  Do you really think I would cheat on you?"  When Clark didn't answer, he asked, "Why do you feel so threatened by Bruce?  Yes, we fooled around when we were kids...experimented, really.  That's been over for so long."

                  

Clark looked away uncomfortably before saying, "I think it's just that he's so...Bruce, you know?  He's rich and charming.  He's a big, good-looking, athletic guy.  Why do you think I feel threatened?"

                  

Lex laughed softly.  "Jesus, Clark.  You're Superman.  How can anyone make you feel insecure?"

                  

"I may be strong, fast, but I'm not..."  Clark looked embarrassed for a moment before continuing, "Last month, 'Superman' flew into a billboard, Lex.  On the way to that train derailment?"  Clark held his palms up and shrugged.  "I just didn't see it.  It came out of nowhere."  Lex pressed his fingers to his lips to cover his smile, but when Clark concluded, "Superman is a clod," Lex couldn't stop the laugh that slipped out.

                  

"You're not a clod," he said, chuckling.  "I'd like to see Bruce Wayne travel faster than the speed of sound without running into something."

                  

Clark shook his head ruefully.  "I do stuff like that all the time, though.  Bruce is sophisticated.  No one will ever use the word 'sophisticated' to describe me."

                  

Lex pulled Clark closer before saying, "The point is, you made it to the scene of that accident and saved a lot of lives.  Just remember...I love you just the way you are."  Lex tilted his head to look up into Clark's eyes and gave him a crooked little grin before leaning up to touch his mouth to Clark's ear, whispering, "I'm marrying you, Clark.  That's got to tell you something."

                  

Clark shivered at Lex's words.  They had talked about the "ceremony", the "union", the "commitment", but this was the first time Lex had referred to what they were doing as "marriage" and Clark was surprised at the depth of feeling that a simple word could provoke.  He nodded, then pressed his mouth to Lex's, their lips merging together moist and hot.  Lex reached up to slide one hand behind Clark's neck, rubbing up and down his lover's strong back with his other hand.  Their lips parted and they were both breathless when Lex said, "Come on, Clark.  Let's go to bed.  You have an early morning tomorrow."

                  

Together, they went into the dressing room, stripping and slipping into pajama bottoms before continuing to the bathroom, standing together at the matching sinks, washing their faces, brushing their teeth, comfortably sharing their nightly routine.

                  

Finishing first, Lex turned to lean against the sink, saying, "You know, Clark, for what it's worth, even if I had never met you, I wouldn't be with Bruce.  He's a great friend, dependable, there if you need him.  But he has some...control issues.  You and I have a lot of give and take in our relationship.  We're equals.  Bruce is different; he always has to have the upper hand."

                  

"Are you talking about...do you mean sexually," Clark asked, rinsing his toothbrush and returning it to the holder.  He stepped close to Lex, casually wrapping his arms around his Lex’s slim hips.

                  

Lex smiled.  "He has to have control in every situation, but yes...in sex, too.  Bruce was the first person who ever fucked me, but in all of our playing around, he never let me enter him.  I wouldn't be surprised if he's never been a bottom.  Ever."

                  

Clark leaned in for a kiss, then murmured, "Do you ever mind?  When I'm the top, I mean?"

                  

"Mind?  I love it, Clark.  I love everything we do."  Lex brushed another soft kiss to Clark's moist lips before whispering, "But tonight, I'm going to be on top and you're going to wear the ring.  And you're going to wear it all day tomorrow.  Every time you find yourself wondering what Bruce and I are doing at the gym, you'll stop and feel how much I love you, and you're going to remember that you give me something Bruce never could."

                  

Clark drew a shuddering breath and nodded, smiling.  "Okay...all right."

                  

Lex took a clean towel from the cabinet and hands clasped, fingers interlocked, they left the bathroom.  After tossing the towel over to the bed, they paused at the dresser and Lex opened the tiny lead box that sat nestled amidst their watches and cufflinks.  He pulled Clark's hand to his lips, wetly mouthing the knuckles before straightening Clark's long fingers and sliding on the band of platinum.  Foreheads together, they looked down at Clark's hand between them, the tiny green chip in the ring already giving off a faint, green glow.

                  

Clark tilted his head, sliding his cheek against Lex's, nuzzling the warm space beneath his lover's ear before moving lower to suck the smooth skin of Lex's neck.  When he increased the suction, drawing the soft flesh into his mouth, Lex moaned.  Clark inhaled deeply, dizzy as much from Lex's familiar and heady scent as from the kryptonite in the ring.  He felt Lex's fingers slide into his hair then tighten, gently pulling back until the strong suction of Clark's mouth broke loose with a wet pop.

                  

Lex, eyelids half-closed and breathing heavily, looked questioningly at his lover.  "Clark?"

                  

Clark whispered hoarsely, "I want to give you something, too; something to take with you tomorrow.  When you're at the gym, in the showers...you'll see it in the mirror.  He'll see it."

                  

"Oh, Clark," Lex breathed, nodding before tilting his head back to offer the column of his throat, urging Clark's head back down with the press of his hand and guiding Clark’s mouth back to the still-tingling spot on his neck.  The strong, almost painful suckling resumed and Lex arched into it, the erection that now tented his pajama bottoms bumping against Clark's hip.  Lex's hands tightened, clenched for a moment, on Clark's waist, then relaxed and slid up over his lover's ribs, thumbs coming to rest on dark, already pebbled nipples, eliciting a deep shudder from Clark when his forefingers joined his thumbs to pinch and pull the little nubs.

                  

When Lex felt the answering graze of Clark's hardness against his own, he slid his hands back down and around to cup and squeeze Clark's ass, grabbing fistfuls of Clark’s thin cotton pajama pants and tugging until his lover's smooth, muscular bottom was exposed to the cool air.  He stroked and massaged, slipping his hand between the firm cheeks and rubbing, burrowing deeper, the side of his forefinger sliding across Clark's puckered hole with each glide of his hand.  When Lex gently wriggled the tip of his finger into the dry opening, Clark's legs began to tremble and Lex finally moved away, taking Clark's hand and pulling him towards the bed, his voice husky as he murmured, "Come on, baby."

                  

Clark gave him a shaky smile and said, "Just a minute," holding the waistband of his pajama bottoms with one hand and walking over to the large Christmas tree in the corner of the bedroom, bending over to flip the switch that turned the twinkling lights on.  At the sight of Clark's upraised and naked bottom, pajama pants barely staying up at all, Lex's breath caught in his throat and he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.  He quickly crossed the room to turn off the overhead light, leaving them bathed in only the sparkling white points of light, blinking hypnotically on the tree.

                  

He met Clark at the edge of the bed, reconnecting with a deep kiss before gently turning him, running a warm palm up his back and pushing, urging Clark's body downward. Sliding his hands over the lean hips, he drew the pajamas down until they slipped to the floor.  Clark's breath was coming in short, quiet huffs as he bent over the bed and spread his thighs for Lex, who moved quickly to gather their supplies from the nightstand.  Sitting beside Clark's hips, Lex lubricated his fingers before leaning down to kiss the dark head pressed into the thick bedspread.  Clark turned his head to face Lex, their eyes locking as Lex slid his middle finger deep into Clark's body, gliding it in and out until Clark moaned and his eyelids fluttered and closed.

                  

Lex tried to slip a second finger in, but was met with tight resistance.  He pulled at the edges of Clark's anus, gently stretching and murmuring, "You're so tense tonight...relax, Clark."

                  

"I'm trying, Lex.  I don't know what's wrong."

                  

Leaning over to cover Clark's mouth in a kiss, Lex gently rubbed at the tight, slippery opening with the tip of his forefinger as his middle finger continued to tug and stretch.  He moved his lips to Clark's ear to whisper, "Relax," and when the second finger squeezed in, "That's it."  He continued to stroke and twist, but when he tried to push a third finger in, Clark hissed and gave a little cry of pain, his body clenching tightly.  Lex carefully withdrew his fingers and fell back on the bed.

                  

"What's wrong, Clark?  We don't have to do this tonight if you don't want to."

                  

"I want to...really.  I'm just having trouble relaxing.  It's…I don’t know...everything, I guess."  Clark sighed and leaned over to kiss Lex's chin.  "Don't give up on me.  Please?"

                  

"Well, if you're sure, I have a suggestion.  Why don't we take the ring off just until I'm inside and you're stretched, then we can put it back on you."  Lex's smile became a lopsided grin as he added, "Don't worry, when I'm done with you, you'll still be able to feel it tomorrow."

                  

Clark nodded, eyelids heavy with arousal.  "Yeah.  That works for me."  As Lex went to the dresser to get the little lead box, Clark stood and turned the bedspread down, spreading the towel over the flannel sheets and crawling up to settle comfortably on his back with his hips centered on the thick terrycloth.  Lex took the ring Clark slipped from his finger and dropped it in the box, snapping the lid shut and placing the box on the nightstand before stepping out of his own pajama bottoms and tossing them on top of Clark's.

                  

Liberally coating his penis with slippery gel, Lex moved between Clark's spread legs, looking up with a smile and saying, "Okay, let's try this again." 

                  

Clark lifted his legs, bracing one hand on Lex's shoulder as his lover's thick cock slid in deeply, and threw his head back on the pillow moaning, "Oh yeah...that's it.  That's better."

                  

Several easy thrusts later, Lex said, "Tell me when you're ready for the ring, babe."

                  

"Now.  Onnnhhh...yeah, now," Clark gasped, his face relaxed and showing his intense pleasure, eyes glazing over with it.

                  

Lex lay heavily on Clark's chest for a moment, sucking and nibbling at his lover's full lips before propping himself on one elbow and stretching his arm out to retrieve the ring from the nightstand.  As he slid the smooth metal onto Clark's finger, he looked up and saw the transformation on Clark's face, the slight wince, the furrowed brow, teeth biting into his lower lip.  Lex stroked Clark's forehead with gentle fingertips until the skin was smooth and unlined again, asking, "You okay?"

                  

Clark met his eyes, smiling.  "I'm great."

                  

Lex laughed softly and murmured, "Yeah, you are," and lay against Clark again, enjoying the feel of their bare chests pressed together.  He covered Clark’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding inside to rub against Clark's tongue.  Sliding his cock in and out, in an unhurried and lazy rhythm, Lex sank into the slippery heat of Clark's tight opening, moaning with the overwhelming sensation.  He moved to nuzzle Clark's ear, whispering so softly that his words were barely a ghost of breath, "You've got to know...know how much I love you, Clark.  So much...so much."

                  

Clark's head pressed harder into the pillow, his back arching a little more with each slow thrust.  "I know, Lex.  Oh god...I love you, too."  He reached up, putting his hands on Lex's waist and pulling him in.  "Harder, please...oh fuck."

                  

Lex grinned and kissed the side of Clark’s face.  “You like that?  God, I love it when I make you say ‘fuck’,” he teased.  At Clark’s answering smile, he pressed close again to whisper into Clark’s ear, “You want it hard, Clark?  You like it when I slam my dick into your tight hole?”

 

When Clark shivered and whispered, “Oh fuck,” Lex laughed and kissed Clark again.  Rising to his knees, he moved his hips to give Clark what he needed, thrusting hard and fast, their bodies slapping together, and the warm, pungent scent of their lovemaking rising to wash over and through them.  Clark hitched his knees up a little higher, legs spread wide, and reached down to lay his large, warm palms on the tops of Lex's thighs, stroking almost frantically, in time with Lex's thrusts.  Lex looked down to watch their bodies joining, merging together and becoming one, and it was almost too much for him.  His cock, shiny and slick, vanishing into his lover's body, was stretching Clark to the limit, Clark's own cock and balls swaying wildly with each hard thrust.  Lex quickly squeezed his eyes tightly shut to try to delay the inevitable, but he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

                  

Breath coming too heavily, Lex barely managed to gasp out, "Touch yourself.  Make yourself come, baby," then watched, enthralled by the sight of Clark's fist closing around his leaking cock, squeezing and stroking until he exploded, a jet stream of semen streaking his stomach and chest.

                  

That sight alone was almost enough to make Lex reach his own climax, but combined with Clark's voice, gravelly and rough, groaning, "Unnnhhhh... Lex!  Oh fuck," and Clark's tight hole contracting in jerky spasms, Lex gave up the last of his control and slammed in one last time, balls drawing up tight and emptying, wet heat flooding inside Clark.

                  

Breathing hard, Lex gingerly lowered his body, wilting on Clark.  Sated and limp in the sweet aftermath, he mouthed Clark's neck for long, drowsy minutes, too lazy to form his lips into a proper kiss.  Clark's warm hand cupped his scalp, gently pulling Lex closer to press soft, damp kisses to the smooth skin of his head, and Lex knew that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never grow indifferent to the thrill he felt every time Clark demonstrated not only that he was not repulsed by Lex's baldness, but that he was drawn by it, enamored of it.  The large, careful hand stroking his head was almost worshipful, the tongue that traced the vein at his temple paid homage.

 

As Lex lay, spent, on Clark, he thought of the public commitment he would be making in just two nights and smiled a little, pondering the turn his life had taken and wondering exactly when he had made the transition from cold cynic to devoted romantic.  That was something he rarely thought about anymore, but tonight, he had noticed Bruce's intense, watchful eyes on him and Clark, and he knew what his old friend was thinking:  What happened to the Lex Luthor I used to know?  Lex knew that it had been a gradual process; a slow, inevitable change that had begun the day he met Clark.

 

Lex looked up at Clark's flushed face.  A fine sheen of moisture covered his brow, dampening the fringes of his dark curls, and his swollen, reddened lips were parted, light, panting sighs gently escaping.   Seven years together and Lex was still struck speechless by Clark's extraordinary beauty.  He felt a stuttering thud in the region of his heart and knew that the hopeless romantic had always been there, inside him.  Clark had just made it safe to let him out.

                            

Clark shifted beneath him and opened warm, hazel-green eyes.  Lex met his smiling gaze, laughing softly when Clark wriggled again and said, "Oh yeah.  I'm going to feel this tomorrow."

                  

"Are you uncomfortable?  Want me to pull out?"

                  

Clark grinned and shook his head, "No.  I was thinking we could just sleep like this all night, actually."

                  

"I'm not as young as I used to be, you know.  Can't stay hard all night," Lex replied with a crooked grin.  "I'm slipping out even as we speak."  He stretched to place a quick kiss on Clark's nose.  "Sorry."

                  

Clark gave a mock, long-suffering sigh, saying, "Oh, all right," then lifted his hips obligingly when Lex withdrew from his body and began tugging at the towel beneath him.  Clark lay still, spreading his legs wider and enjoying Lex's tender ministrations as he thoroughly wiped the wetness from Clark's body.  When Lex finished and dropped the towel over the side of the bed, on top of their abandoned pajama bottoms, Clark slipped his hand around Lex's wrist, hauling him in close and saying, "Come on, old man."

                  

Burrowing deep into the flannel sheets and chasing the December chill away with the blankets and their bodies, they lay on their sides, Lex spooning in tightly behind Clark.  Relaxed and drowsy, Lex looked through half-closed eyes at the blinking Christmas tree in the corner of the room.  "Mmmm...we should have had sex under the tree.  After the ceremony and the reception you might be too tired on Christmas Eve," he murmured sleepily.

                  

Clark smiled and pulled Lex's hand up to press a damp kiss to the palm, inhaling the musky scent of their lovemaking that lingered there.  "Not a chance.  I can't imagine ever being too tired for our Christmas Eve tradition."  Clark pressed Lex's now-moist palm tightly to his chest and chuckled softly, "I would have to be dead."

                  

Lex shivered a little at Clark's choice of words and a vague uneasiness filled him, but he shrugged it off.  His last thought before he drifted into sleep was, Lucky thing no one can hurt Clark...

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                  

Strange.  Very strange, Larry thought.  This night found him, yet again, sitting in his darkened bedroom, hard and aching, his malevolent features lit only by the blue flickering light of his televisions.

                  

He had been watching the men again...had seen Luthor slip a ring on Kent's finger.  In the weeks that Larry had been monitoring the bedroom activities of the two men, he had seen the ring before; sometimes worn by Luthor, sometimes by Kent.  As it was the only ring he had ever seen either man wear, he was certain it was the ring...the one made from green meteor rock.

                  

He had gotten a good look at it once when Luthor had been wearing it and had reached over to the nightstand, his hand moving directly in front of the camera in the alarm clock.  It looked nothing like Larry had imagined.  The stone setting was so small...tiny really, barely visible at all.  Larry had been a little disappointed to see that it looked nothing like the ring he had had made for himself.

                  

Since they only brought the ring out when they fucked, Larry had almost decided that his original guess was correct...the ring, and the choice of stone in it, were for sentimental reasons.  But it hadn't taken Larry long to see a pattern; the ring was only worn if Luthor were fucking Kent...not the other way around.  Still, Larry could believe the ring merely had symbolic value.  Until tonight.

                  

Larry had watched Luthor's attempts to prepare his lover; saw the pain on Kent's face.  But instead of stopping, Luthor had taken the ring and put it back in its little box, and somehow, Kent was able to take Luthor's thick cock without so much as a twinge, when just minutes earlier he had barely tolerated his fingers.  And most strange of all...when Luthor paused in his thrusting to put the ring back on his lover, the pained expression had immediately returned to Kent's face.

                  

Yes...the ring definitely had a physiological effect on Kent, made him somehow...more sensitive to pain?  Weaker, perhaps?  But why?  While experimenting with the stones, Larry hadn't noticed any effect on himself.  Intrigued, he wondered how his own ring, with its enormous stone, would affect Kent...what about the large chunks of meteor rock in his living room?  Larry had been considering how he would keep Kent subdued when he took him for his own and had assumed he would have to drug the man, but now he wondered if the rocks could somehow be made to work just as well.

                  

I'll find out soon enough, Larry thought, almost shivering with anticipation.  Plans were already underway and by this time tomorrow night, Kent would be his.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                            

 

Part Four

                  

Thursday, December 23rd

                  

"Point."

                  

Once again, Lex found himself on the tip of Bruce's foil.  They had fenced several bouts, Bruce the victor in each one, but Lex at least had the satisfaction of seeing that Bruce was more winded than he usually was after one of their fencing sessions.

                  

"Better, Lex.  Definite improvement since the last time we met.  I'm actually sweating a little bit," Bruce said in an incredulous voice, then smiled a rare, open smile and added, "Just a little."

                  

"Asshole," Lex said with a grin.

                  

"Lex, Lex, that's not good sportsmanship and you know it.  Maitre Didier would have you run the bleachers for that."

                  

"Yes, well I haven't seen old man Didier since we left Excelsior and since I have to be at the office in an hour," Lex said, glancing at his watch, "I'm not running any bleachers today...asshole."

                  

Bruce laughed as they headed toward the showers, opening his fencing jacket as they walked.  "Oh...changing the subject...I hear you have a close, personal relationship with Metropolis' "Superman" these days," Bruce said, glancing a sly look at Lex from the corner of his eyes.

                  

Lex almost stumbled, asking as casually as he could manage, "What?"

                  

"Thanksgiving day?  It was on the news, Lex.  I believe you hurled all over the man," Bruce said, fighting laughter.

                  

"I didn't hurl all over him...just on his boots."  Lex smiled ruefully and shook his head.  "My finest hour, captured on the nightly news for the entire world to see and then replayed over and over and over.  Everyone in the free world has seen me puke."

                  

"It's great being a public figure isn't it," Bruce asked, giving in to the urge to laugh.  "Anyway, you guys looked pretty friendly.  His hands were all over you."

                  

"He was just being polite," Lex said a little defensively.  "At the time, I wasn't exactly able to stand on my own two feet, and he's a decent enough guy to not let me just keel over.  As soon as I could stand, he left to get Clark for me."

                  

"Relax, Lex.  I'm not seriously insinuating that you would cheat on Clark, you know."

                  

"Good, because I wouldn't.  Superman isn't my type.  He's a valuable and much-needed asset to Metropolis, but he doesn't compare to Clark."

                  

"So...what does he look like up close?  Superman, I mean.  Good-looking?"

                  

Lex smiled.  "Not bad, but like I said...he's no Clark."

                  

"Something about him reminds me of Clark, actually; his height, his posture, the dark hair.  I've wondered what his face looks like," Bruce said.  "They say that the reason no one has ever gotten a good, clear picture is because the suit he wears gives off a wave frequency that causes pictures and video images of him to be blurred and distorted."

                  

The conversation was getting uncomfortable for Lex and his unease doubled when he looked up to see Bruce's eyes fixed intently on him, dark and searching.  He nodded briefly and said, "Yeah...I heard that too," then desperate to change the subject, "Gotham has it's own mystery, though.  What do you know about the one they call Batman, and his partner, Robin?"

                  

Bruce shrugged.  "I know that Batman has a very low tolerance for the criminal element."

                  

Entering the locker room, they grabbed fresh towels from the shelves and began stripping.  "I read in the newspaper a few months back that Robin was wounded, that he’d been shot," Lex said.

                  

"Yes.  Batman and Robin are apparently not invulnerable...like Superman."

                  

For a split second, Lex thought that Bruce seemed as uncomfortable with the conversation as he had earlier.  But the moment passed when Bruce's face broke into a large grin, his eyes fixed on Lex's neck.  "Someone feeling a little territorial?"

                  

Lex looked puzzled, then remembered the dark, reddish bruise on his neck and chuckled.  "You have that effect on Clark."

                  

Bruce laughed.  "I don't do it on purpose, Lex.  I really don't.  I like Clark.  I try my best to be friendly, but every time I smile at him, he looks at me like he thinks I eat small children for breakfast or something."

                  

Lex was laughing too, as he agreed.  "I'd be lying if I said you didn't make him a little...nervous."

                  

They stepped into adjoining shower stalls, Bruce's voice calling out over the spray of water, "Seriously, I think it's kind of nice...the mark on your neck, I mean.  It shows Clark cares.  He wants everyone to know you're taken."

                  

Lex heard the words that remained unspoken, and considered for just a moment whether he should get involved, before asking, "You going to tell me?"

                  

"Tell you what?"

                  

"What's going on with you and Dick."

                  

The silence from the neighboring shower stall went on so long, Lex didn't think Bruce was going to answer.  Then, "He's cheating on me."

                  

Oh.  Wishing that he had chosen to stay uninvolved, Lex asked uncomfortably, "Are you sure about that, or do you just have suspicions?"

                  

Another long silence, then, "I'm sure.  I've followed him.  He has friends.  He has...someone...in Bludhaven."

                  

"Friends?  Maybe it's nothing, Bruce.  Meeting up with friends, even when he doesn't tell you about it, doesn't automatically mean he's cheating..."

                  

Bruce interrupted, his voice sharp, "I've seen him, Lex.  He was giving one of his 'friends' a blowjob in a filthy alley."

                  

Lex wanted to say something that would make his friend feel better, but all that would come out was, "I'm sorry, Bruce."

                  

"Not your fault," came the short answer.

                  

"Give him time.  Don't you think this might just be a phase he's going through?  He's only 20 years old, after all."

                  

"How old was Clark when the two of you started...."

                  

"He was 17...almost 18," Lex admitted reluctantly.  "But Clark has been carrying the responsibilities of a grown man most of his life.  While other kids his age were enjoying clubs and sports after school, Clark was helping to run his parent's farm.  He grew up a lot faster than his peers...too fast, really."

                  

"He's only four years older than Dick, and tomorrow, Clark is going to publicly make a lifetime commitment to you."

                  

Lex thought he heard a trace of bitterness in Bruce's voice and as they stepped out of the shower stalls and began drying off, he asked, "Is that what you want from Dick?  A lifetime commitment?"

                  

Stepping up to the mirrors, Bruce sighed loudly then leaned forward to look at himself closely, fingering through his wet hair, and said, "Look at me, Lex.  I'm starting to get gray hairs, crow's feet.  Time is passing, my friend.  I want something."

                  

"I'm not the best person to give advice, Bruce.  But I do know that committing yourself to someone shouldn't be the result of a mid-life crisis."  Wrapping his towel around his waist, Lex said with a little grin, "It's kind of early for a mid-life crisis, by the way.  We're only 30, for god's sake."

                  

Bruce managed a small smile before saying, "It's more than that.  I've invested a lot of my life in Dick.  I was attracted to him from the beginning, but I did the right thing...I waited for him to grow up.  Then, when he did, and he wanted to be with me too...," Bruce trailed off.  "He's been my family for six years, Lex.  I've been with him so long now, I don't know how to be with anyone else."

                  

"Have you talked to him...about the cheating...about why he's doing it?"

                  

"I can't," Bruce said simply, shaking his head.  The sound of the door closing caused both men to look up, where they saw Dick, standing stiffly and looking uncomfortable.

                  

"Bruce?  Can I talk to you?"

                  

Lex looked up at Bruce, eyebrows arched in question, then said loudly, "Well, guys...I'm needed in the office.  Do me a favor, Bruce?  When Clark gets home this evening, tell him I'm probably going to be a little late."

                  

As Lex headed for the locker room to dress, he paused in front of Dick.  "Good to see you again, Dick.  Clark and I really hope you can make it to the ceremony."

                  

"Thanks, Lex.  I'm going to try," Dick said.

                  

Lex nodded and gave him a small, encouraging smile.  "Hope to see you both at dinner tonight," he called over his shoulder as he continued to the locker room.  The door had barely closed behind him when he heard the sound of the lock clicking into place.  That had to be a good sign, he thought, smiling.

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"What are you doing here?"  Bruce's voice was coldly blank.

                  

Dick shifted uneasily.  "Alfred told me where to find you."

                  

"No.  I mean here...in Metropolis.  I don't want you ruining things for Lex and Clark when they...how did you put it?  Make asses of themselves?"

                  

Dick looked down at the floor, cheeks flushed.  "I didn't mean that," he said quietly.  "And I'm not going to ruin anything, Bruce.  They're my friends too, and I was invited...I'm going to their ceremony."  Dick paused before stepping close to Bruce, placing a tentative hand on his broad chest, still damp from the shower, and added, "I'm also here because...because I missed you."

                  

Bruce closed his eyes tightly, surprised at the emotional pain that throbbed through him, a pain he thought he had trained himself not to feel.  He gripped Dick's hand, removing it from his chest before saying, "Why did you lock the door?  I hope you don't think I'm going to have sex with you."  With a short, derisive laugh, he added, "I'm afraid I'll catch something nasty.  Who knows what you might have picked up in the streets of Bludhaven."

                  

Dick looked stricken, suddenly pale.  "You know."

                  

"Yes.  How long, Dick?"

                  

"A couple of months," Dick said quietly, unable to meet Bruce's eyes.  "But I've always been careful.  I would never put you at risk...never."

                  

Bruce knew he was telling the truth.  That night in the dirty alley, even in the dark, Bruce could see that the boy Dick was sucking off was wearing a condom.  Bruce steeled himself before asking the next question.  "The boy I saw you with; what does he mean to you?  Do you love him?"

                  

"No.  I care about him.  He's a good friend, but I don't love him.  Not like I love you, Bruce," Dick said, a little desperation leaking into his voice as he stubbornly put his hand back on Bruce's chest.

                  

Bruce took Dick's hand again, but didn't remove it, pressed it harder into his chest instead.  "Then why...," he began, horrified when his voice cracked.  He cleared his throat and began again.  "If you love me, why do you...I just can't understand this, Dick."

                  

"He makes me feel like...a man, Bruce.  I am a man, I'm not a boy anymore.  You have to let me grow up, have my own opinions, make my own decisions, take my own chances."  Dick took a deep breath and continued.  “I want to wear the suit again.  I’m Robin, Bruce…I am.  Robin is as much a part of who I am, as Batman is a part of you.  You can’t shelter me forever, just because I got hurt one time.”

                  

"I only try to shelter and protect you, because I love you, Dick.  I don't want anything to happen to you.  I thought you understood that."

                  

With a sad smile, Dick reached up to touch Bruce's cheek.  "I do understand.  But try to understand how I feel.  One minute you're smothering me, overprotecting me.  Then when I try to do the same for you, you pull away.  I was your legal ward for so long, and sometimes it still feels that way, and frankly...that's kind of creepy.  I don't want you to be my father, Bruce.  I want to be with you, but as your equal."  Dick looked down, nervously biting his lower lip before saying quietly, hesitantly, "I want us to be equals in the bedroom, too."

                  

Bruce swallowed hard.  "We've had this discussion, Dick.  I don't know what to say.  I'm not sure I know how to be an equal partner, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to let you...  I want to tell you that I'll try, but we both know I'll probably fail," Bruce said miserably.

                  

Dick moved in closer, pressing his body tightly to Bruce's and slipping his hand behind Bruce’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.  Just before he melted into the warm mouth he knew so intimately, he whispered against Bruce's lips, "Please...just try."

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark sat, squirming, in the hard chair in front of Perry White's desk, waiting patiently as his boss read over his notes from the morning's city council meeting.  He looked down at the platinum ring on his finger that he was absent-mindedly twisting and the night before came back in a flood of memory; Lex's face inches above his own, distorted with pleasure and glistening with a sheen of sweat; Lex's voice, low and rough, whispering in his ear...words...some sweet, some dirty, some that made him shiver.  Clark wriggled again, unable to stop the little smile that curved his lips.  He glanced up to find that Perry was watching him, one bushy eyebrow raised in question.

                  

"I'm not going to ask what you're smiling about," Perry said in a gruff voice.  "These notes are fine, Kent.  I know you probably have a lot to do before the ceremony tomorrow.  Why don't you take off for the day?  Lois can write up the article from these notes."

                  

"Lois?  Awww, Perry.  Don't give her another reason to scream at me.  It's embarrassing."

                  

Perry chuckled.  "Sorry kid, but one of the greatest joys in my life is taking Lois off her high horse every now and then.  It won't kill her to write up one city council piece."  He reached over to his inbox and picked up an envelope that was addressed to Clark.  "This is for you.  Annie missed it earlier when she was...," Perry drifted off.

                  

Puzzled, Clark took the envelope that had the mailroom's stamp on it, and a moment later realization dawned on him.  He hadn't gotten any hate mail in a while...not since he had had the talk with Lex.  Perry's secretary had been checking his mail.

                  

"Annie's been screening my mail?"

                  

"Lex called a few days ago," Perry began.

                  

Clark looked down, shaking his head.  "I wish he hadn't done that," he said softly.

                  

"I wish he'd done it sooner.  Clark, why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

                  

Clark looked up, squaring his shoulders.  "I don't want any special treatment because of my relationship with Lex."

                  

"This isn't special treatment, Clark.  I won't tolerate any of my employees receiving hate mail."

                  

Clark tilted his head and shook his finger at Perry challengingly.  "Lois gets hate mail on a fairly regular basis," he pointed out.

                  

"Lois enjoys it."

                  

Clark's face broke into a grin and he shrugged, laughing.  "True."  He slipped the letter from the envelope Perry had given him, glancing over it briefly.  Smiling, he said, "This is nice.  The people who run the daycare center I wrote about want to thank me for bringing attention to their money problems.  They received a ton of donations after the article ran."  Clark glanced up at Perry and grinned, "They don't know that half of that money came from LexCorp.  They're having an open house tonight for the children and their mothers and they want me to stop by and pick up something the kids made for me."

                  

"That's a great feeling, isn't it," Perry said.  "I know you wanted to write the article about the bomber and the explosion, but look what you accomplished with the human interest piece."

                  

Clark smiled.  "Yeah, I can live with that."  Looking down at the letter, Clark frowned a little in confusion.  "Strange, though.  The kids already made something for me...a huge poster.  You've seen it.  I have it hanging behind my desk."

                  

Perry shrugged.  "Maybe this is something specifically for Christmas.  I have a feeling they'll be grateful to you for a while," he said, grinning.

                  

Clark slipped the letter back into the envelope and stood, heading for the door.  Turning in the doorway to look back at Perry, he held the envelope up and waved it a little, saying, "Thanks, Perry.  For...you know."

                  

"Sure, Kent.  Now go home.  See you tomorrow evening at the ceremony."

                  

Clark smiled and nodded before starting down the hallway.  He made it all the way down the hall and into the elevator before he heard Lois's voice screeching, ".....city council meeting?!?  Goddammit, Kent...."

                  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Todd brought the hammer down hard on the chisel, neatly cleaving the large meteor rock in two.  He paused for a moment to raise his safety goggles and wipe the sweat from his face that was accumulating underneath.  The damn goggles were making him miserable; they were hot and sweaty and the tight elastic band holding them on was giving him a headache.  They were necessary though.  He slid them back into place and positioned the chisel on one of the meteor halves.  He struck again with his hammer and flinched when a tiny chip of rock flew up and stung his cheek before bouncing off to join the multitude of tiny shards that littered the floor around his feet.

 

"That's enough, Todd," Larry said, looking up from the folder of newspaper clippings he had been flipping through.  "Leave a couple of the rocks whole.  I may need some large pieces for my experiments.  How many small pieces do you have over there?"

 

Todd started at the sound of his name.  He called me Todd.  It had been so long since he had heard his own name that he was puzzled, confused for a moment.  But he had been feeling confused a lot for the last couple of days.  If he hadn't been taking his medicine regularly, he would be more concerned, but he knew that he hadn't missed a single dose.

 

It must be the stress and worry.  Larry had made his plans clear and Todd was having serious misgivings about abducting the Kent man.  Larry had promised he wouldn't hurt Kent, but he had let Todd know, in no uncertain terms, that Lex Luthor would be killed.  When Todd had made his squeamishness known, Larry had cuffed him on the head...hard.  But even though Larry promised to do the killing himself, Todd still felt sick and apprehensive.

 

"Todd!"  Larry's voice rang out, harsh and impatient.  "I asked you how many smaller pieces of rock you have."

 

"At least fifty, Boss."  Todd looked down at the scattering of meteor fragments around his feet.  "And that's not counting all this mess on the floor."

 

"Good.  That's more than enough for now," Larry said.  He returned to his folder, already oblivious to Todd's presence.

 

Todd began sorting through the pile of rocks on the marble-topped laboratory table, tossing them into plastic bins according to size.

 

He called you Todd.

 

Todd shook his head.  The thought had invaded his mind, meandering through his brain like a wisp of smoke.  He had felt the words, heard them...heard them spoken in a strangely reverberating whisper.  No.  He was just tired.  He shook his head again and glanced over at Larry.  "Do you think Kent got the letter, Boss?"

 

Larry looked up at Todd, fixing him with a cold, calculating gaze.  "If you mailed it," he said, enunciating carefully, each word a malevolent threat.  "You did mail it?"

 

"Of course...'course I did," Todd stuttered.  "I meant...do you think he'll go?"

 

"He'll go."  Larry looked down at the little collection of newspaper clippings in his lap and chuckled, pulling out an article and holding it up for Todd to see.  "Visiting nursing home residents."  He pulled out another.  "Attending the opening of the hospital's new burn unit."  He took out yet another.  "Cutting the ribbon at a new shelter for abused women."  Larry's eyes came to rest on the article about the bombed daycare and he smiled, murmuring, "He never writes a story that he doesn't get involved in and follow up on.  Yes...  I've done my research on Mr. Kent.  He's a regular boy scout," he said softly.

 

Todd stared at Larry, fascinated.  The expression on Larry's face as he talked about Kent could almost be perceived as affectionate...if you didn't look up and see the unholy, wicked gleam in Larry's eyes.  Todd shivered.

 

He called you Todd.  He's not going to need you anymore.

 

Todd jumped and rubbed viciously at his temples, his heart suddenly pounding fast and hard in his chest.  "Boss?  I...I think I need to have my blood work done.  I don't think my medicine is working."

 

Larry looked up sharply.  "How often did they test you in the hospital?"

 

"Every week."

 

"And did they adjust your meds after every test?"

 

"Not every time.  But...a lot."

 

Larry frowned in irritation.  "I'll look into it tomorrow...see what I can find out.  We can't bring you in to see a doctor.  We may just have to experiment with your dosage."

 

Todd nodded and wiped at the sweat that was forming above his upper lip.

 

He's not going to need you anymore.  He's going to throw you into the streets when he has Kent.

 

"Boss."  Todd's hands were beginning to tremble and his voice shook as he asked, "What happens to me after we get Kent?  I mean...you won't want me around here anymore."

 

Larry laughed harshly.  "Don't be an idiot.  There'll still be plenty for you to do.  Kent isn't exactly going to be happy to be here...for a while."  Larry examined Todd with that calculating gaze again.  "You should consider yourself lucky.  Kent will be satisfying my sexual needs.  Sort of lets you off the hook, now doesn't it?"

 

Todd nodded eagerly, then glanced nervously at Larry to see if he had taken offense.  When Larry just laughed again, Todd gave a weak smile and returned to his work of sorting rocks, humming softly to drown out the voice in his ear.

 

He's going to throw you into the streets when he has Kent.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

              Part Five

             

Clark let himself into the penthouse with a weary sigh.  He was exhausted and his feet ached.  Clark had always cared about the humans he shared this planet with, but on the days he wore Lex's ring, he found he had a lot more empathy for them.  But even with his aching muscles and sore feet, complete with fresh blisters rubbed by his new shoes, Clark wasn't ready to take off the ring.  He could still feel just the slightest twinge, the tiniest little physical reminder of what he had done with Lex last night.

                            

Stretching his tired muscles, Clark thought that Perry had been right; there had been a lot to do before the ceremony tomorrow.  Clark had spent the day running last minute errands and buying those last few Christmas gifts.  Mostly though, he had spent the day standing in line.  At the florist's...he stood in line.  At the department store register...he stood in line.  At the gift wrap counter...he stood in line.  If it weren't for the lines, he would have been home before dark.

                            

Clark dropped his packages by the foyer table and toed off his shoes.  Glancing at the clock on the wall, he mentally calculated the time until he needed to be at the daycare center for the open house.  He figured he had just enough time to soak his throbbing feet, find some bandages for the blisters, and change into fresh clothes.  If he hurried, he may even have time to convince Lex, with kisses and gropes and promises of more later, to come with him to the open house.

 

Smiling, Clark limped down the hallway, sticking his head inside each open doorway he passed, looking for Lex.  When he reached the bedroom, no sign of Lex anywhere, he assumed that he must be working late, and knew that he would have to step it up a notch if he wanted to be ready in time to stop at Lex’s office and pick him up on the way to the center.

 

Foregoing the long foot soak he desperately wanted, Clark settled for a hasty, but invigorating wash in the shower.  After quickly drying off and dressing, he rummaged through every drawer in the bathroom, searching in vain for bandages for his blistered feet.  Not much use for bandages in the bathroom of a usually invulnerable alien and a man with mutated healing abilities, Clark thought.  But there had to be bandages somewhere in the penthouse – surely Mary would know where to find them.

 

The aroma of dinner cooking was like a trail straight to Mary that Clark’s nose was able to follow.  He sniffed appreciatively as he moved through the penthouse, and found Mary in the kitchen, pouring a creamy sauce over a bowl heaped high with tiny baby potatoes.

 

“Hi, Mary,” Clark said brightly, bending to place an affectionate peck on the tiny woman’s cheek, as his fingers slipped sneakily into the bowl to steal a potato.

 

“Clark Jerome Kent…get your fingers out of my potatoes,” Mary said, even as she was tilting her cheek up for the little kiss.

 

Clark snickered and held a potato up triumphantly, taunting Mary with it a little before popping it into his mouth with a grin.  Mary tried not to smile, and shook her head in mock exasperation.

 

“Have you seen Lex?” Clark asked around a mouthful of herbed potato.

 

“No, dear.  I don’t believe he’s made it home yet, but I hope he gets here soon.  Dinner’s almost ready.”

 

Clark winced a little in anticipation of Mary’s disapproval as he said, “Umm, actually, I’m not going to be here for dinner until later myself.  There’s an open house that I have to attend at the daycare center, and I’m hoping to rope Lex into going with me, so…” he trailed off.  “But I don’t want you, Bruce, and Alfred to wait for us, so please…go ahead and serve dinner on time.”

 

Mary looked up at Clark a little peevishly.  “An open house at a daycare center?  Clark, please don’t spoil your appetite with rice krispie treats and Kool-Aid.  I made one of your favorite meals tonight.”

 

“I won’t.  I promise,” Clark said with a huge grin.  “Mary, do we have bandages somewhere in the penthouse.  I’m wounded,” he said, melodramatically, pointing down at his feet.

 

Mary leaned over, then frowned when she saw the large, raw blisters on Clark’s heels.  “Clark!  What happened?”

 

“New shoes and Christmas shopping,” Clark answered cheerfully, realizing that it gave him a perverse sort of pleasure to have a physical infirmity to show Mary.  He had lived with Mary in such close proximity for so long that sometimes he was sure that she was on the verge of realizing his secrets, and these blisters were a badge of normalcy that would throw her off the track a while longer.  As Mary’s arm went around his waist, he thought that the motherly sympathy was awfully nice, too.

 

“Oh, honey.  Did you wash them well?”  At Clark’s solemn, ‘yes ma’am’, she continued.  “There should be bandages and some antibiotic ointment in the guest bathroom.”  Clark was already headed in that direction as she called over her shoulder, “Clark…let me know if you don’t find them.  I probably have bandages in my room as well.”

 

Approaching the guest bedrooms, Clark caught himself before barging in, remembering that they actually had guests at the moment.  He considered using his x-ray vision to see if Bruce and Alfred were there, but not only would it be difficult, if not impossible, for him to focus his vision while wearing Lex’s ring, he realized that peeking in at the guests would also be incredibly rude, so he raised his hand to knock instead.

 

Before his fist was able to connect with the heavy wood of the door, Clark heard voices from within, and even with his super-hearing impaired by the tiny chip of kryptonite on his finger, he still picked up, quite clearly, Alfred saying, “Master Bruce, really!  Please tell me you didn’t actually have…physical relations…in a public shower room?  I raised you better than that.”

 

In one heart-stopping instant, Clark’s stomach plummeted sickeningly.  His hand dropped limply to his side, all intention of knocking gone now.  He heard Bruce’s deep, rumbling chuckle, then his voice saying with an amused tone, “Relax, Alfred.  We locked the door.”  Clark heard sounds of disapproval from Alfred before Bruce continued.  “God, Alfred.  It was like old times.  It hasn’t been that way between us in years.”

 

Alfred’s voice, softer and gentler now, said, “The two of you are going to face a lot of obstacles, Master Bruce.  I hope you don’t think that this one encounter can recapture everything you’ve lost.  Did you ask him how he feels about the boy?  I can’t see him just giving that up so easily.”

 

“He’s going to break it off with him.  He said that he doesn’t love him the way he loves me,” Bruce answered in a smug voice.  “We have a history, Alfred, that he and that boy will never have.”

 

Clark’s chest was so tight he felt he couldn’t draw a breath, and he backed away from the door, his stomach churning so violently he felt he was going to vomit.  He ran down the hall, not sure where he was going, but knowing that he needed to get out of the penthouse and far away.  As he ran past the kitchen, he dimly heard Mary’s voice calling, “Clark?  Did you find the bandages?”

 

He stopped at the door just long enough to slip his shoes on, not even bothering with socks.  His eyes were stinging and burning, and he didn’t realize until he saw a droplet splash against the leather of his shoes, that he was crying.  As he opened the penthouse door, he heard Mary ask, her voice full of confusion and concern, “Clark, honey, what’s wrong?”

 

Clark managed to choke out, “I won’t be home for dinner, Mary.”  He closed the door quietly behind him and left the building as quickly as his sore feet would carry him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark got as far as City Park, before he stopped walking.  He collapsed onto a park bench, and leaning forward, elbows on knees, covered his face with his hands, completely oblivious to the curious stares of the joggers and dog-walkers who were brave enough to weather the winter night air.  Shivering violently, Clark realized, bitterly, that he had run out without his coat.

 

He sat, breathing deeply for a few moments, and felt himself calming.  There had to be an explanation, he thought.  He knew Lex.  He trusted Lex.  The more he thought about it, he knew that there just had to be a logical explanation for the conversation he had overheard, other than that Lex and Bruce had had sex at the gym, in the showers.  Lex had promised him, and Lex always kept his promises.

 

Heaving one more deep sigh, Clark glanced at his watch and realized that he was going to have to push his thoughts aside for a little while, and hurry if he was going to make it to the open house.  There was no time to pick up Lex, but maybe that was for the best.  Clark needed some time alone, without Lex, to think before he confronted Lex with what he had heard.

 

As he resumed walking, his blistered feet made him want to scream in agony.  The little pleasure he had felt at experiencing a normal, human weakness was entirely gone now, and all he wanted at the moment was to be an invulnerable alien again.  He began looking around for a place he could hide Lex’s ring; a place where it would be safe until he could come back later with the lead box and retrieve it.

 

He had twisted the ring almost completely off his finger, when he hesitated.  Suddenly, it seemed more important than ever to keep the ring on, even if it meant feeling all the human aches, all the pain.  Lex had given him the ring the night before as a promise; a promise and a reminder that he would never betray Clark’s love.

 

Reaching the street, his heart feeling a tiny bit lighter, Clark waved down the first cab he saw and gave the driver directions to the daycare center.  He leaned back against the seat, tapping his foot impatiently as the driver made his way through the Metropolis traffic.  Clark was anxious now to get this open house appearance over with, and get home to Lex so that they could talk.

 

As the driver pulled up in front of the building where the daycare center had been relocated after the bombing, Clark saw that the windows were brightly lit, and glancing down at his watch yet again, realized that he was only a few minutes late.  He thanked the cab driver, paying him and giving him a generous tip before heading into the warm building, grateful to get in out of the cold, dark night.

 

The building was strangely silent, Clark thought, as he made his way to the door leading into the daycare.  A powerful feeling of unease washed over him as he peered into the room and saw that it was completely void of people.  Maybe they were just in another part of the building, or maybe…

 

Clark reached for the ring on his finger, intending to remove it and toss it far enough away in order to be able to defend himself if the need arose, but before he could slide the ring off, strong arms grabbed him from behind, and he heard eerie laughter coming from the hallway.

 

“Mr. Kent, so good of you to come!”  The tall man who was holding him so tightly that his arms felt as though they were going to pop out of his shoulder sockets, turned Clark until he was able to see the source of the voice.  It was no surprise at all that it was Larry Lewis.  Trying not to give in to panic, Clark summoned all of the strength he could muster, and managed to break free of the man’s tight hold.  He reached desperately for the ring on his finger, but before he could get it even half way off, he was struck viciously in the head, from behind.

 

A horrible, dizzying blackness descended on Clark as he felt himself sink to the floor, and the last thing he was aware of before total darkness overtook him, was the insane laughter of Larry Lewis.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Well, gentlemen, I think that’s everything,” Lex announced to the group of tense and exhausted men gathered around the conference table.  They had signed the last of the papers, and after all was said and done, the buyout Lex had been working on for weeks had finally been completed, with no jobs lost.  Some of the workers would be moved into new positions, but no one would find themselves jobless this Christmas.

 

Lex had a broad, satisfied smile on his face as he felt his cell phone vibrating within his jacket pocket.  He knew that it was probably Clark and he reached for the phone eagerly, anxious to share the news of the day’s success.  There had been a time when he would have considered that a weakness -- this overpowering desire to share his every little triumph with Clark just to see in Clark’s face or hear in his voice, the pride he felt in Lex’s accomplishments.  But now, the warm pleasure he felt at being able to share these moments with someone, was just one of the joys of life that he accepted without question.

 

Lex was still smiling as he answered the phone, but in an instant his face fell when he heard the voice on the other end saying, “Lex?  It’s Mary.”

 

In all the years Mary had worked for him, only once before had she called him on his cell phone, while he was at work, and that was when Jonathan had had a mild heartache a few years earlier, and she couldn’t reach Clark.  Lex felt his chest grow a little tight with apprehension.

 

“Mary, is something wrong?”

 

“I hope not, dear.  I was just wondering if Clark was with you?”

 

“No…I haven’t seen him since he left for work this morning.  Is something wrong?” Lex repeated, his nervous worry increasing a little more.

 

“Clark came home earlier.  He was happy and cheerful…said he had an open house to attend and he was going to pick you up at your office on the way.  He went to look for something, and next thing I knew, he was running through the penthouse and out the door.  What worries me is that he looked very upset.  Lex, he was crying.  I thought you should know.”

 

“Thank you for calling, Mary.  I’ll come home right now, and we’ll see if we can’t find out what’s happened.”

 

Something must have happened to Jonathan or Martha.  It was the only reason he could think of for Clark to leave in a rush, crying.  As Lex disconnected the call, his nervous worry gave way to full out fear. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark opened his eyes and saw only darkness.  He was crumpled in on himself awkwardly, disoriented and struggling to draw a full breath in the enclosed, almost airless space he occupied.  Feeling around, he was able to determine that he was in a large, canvas sack, and as his body bumped painfully against sharp edges, he realized that someone was pulling him along, probably up stairs or steps of some kind.

 

Fighting a surge of nausea, he shifted his body until he could reach the ring on his finger and slipped it off.  Weakly, he dropped it within the sack, but realized that it wouldn’t help; he couldn’t get far enough away to regain his strength.  But when Lewis and his partner reached their destination, and he was let out of the bag…

 

“I think he’s waking up, Boss,” Clark heard a voice say.

 

“Good.  Hurry, Todd.  We’re almost to the apartment.”

 

As Clark heard a door opening and felt himself being dragged across a threshold, another wave of intense nausea washed over him, and his body was filled with an excruciating pain that curdled the blood within his veins.  He was screaming in agony when the bag fell open and he was pulled out.  He could barely manage to open his eyes, but when he did, the first thing he saw was the huge kryptonite setting in Lewis’ ring.  The second thing he saw before losing consciousness again, was a roomful of meteors, all beginning to glow malevolently with Clark’s presence.

 

Hard slaps to his face roused Clark from the mercy of unconsciousness.  When he opened his eyes, he saw that he had been moved onto a sofa, and that the hand striking him belonged to Larry Lewis, who was peering eagerly down at him.  “Wake up, Mr. Kent.”

 

Clark felt pain worse than any he had ever experienced before, and for the first time in his life, he wished for death.  Along with the pain was a nausea so unrelenting that he could feel his stomach and intestines writhing within his body.  He tried to sink into the blessed darkness that was overtaking him again, and felt a tear trickle down his face when Lewis slapped him hard, rousing him back once more.

 

Clark heard the voice of Lewis’ companion say, “Here you go, Boss,” and he opened his eyes to see the man, Todd, handing a camcorder to Lewis.

 

“What do you say we make a little movie, Mr. Kent,” Lewis said in an amused voice.  He moved away from the sofa, pointing the camera at Clark and focusing.  “Now, what would you like to say to your boyfriend?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Lex arrived at the penthouse, an anxious Mary greeted him at the door.

 

“Any word from Clark?” she asked hopefully.

 

“No, I was hoping he had made it home.”

 

Lex slipped his arm around Mary’s shoulder as they walked to the living room where Bruce, Alfred, and Dick, who had just arrived for dinner, were waiting.  After greeting everyone, Lex said, “On the way home, I called Martha, and she and Jonathan are both fine.  I can’t imagine what could have happened to send Clark off like that.”  He turned to face Mary and asked gently, “Mary, are you sure that Clark was upset, and not just in a hurry?”

 

Mary nodded.  “I’m sure, dear.  And all he said was that he wouldn’t be home for dinner.”

 

Puzzled, Lex rubbed his head for a moment as he thought.  “You said he was in a good mood, but that he had gone to look for something, is that right?  And when he came back he was upset.”

 

“That’s right.  He had gone Christmas shopping in new shoes, and he had some terrible blisters on his feet.  He was trying to find bandages and I told him to look in the guest bathroom.”  At this, Bruce’s head snapped up and he listened intently as Mary continued.  “When he came back, he was…well, he was crying.”

 

Bruce looked off, deep in thought, and mused aloud, “He never made it to the guest room.  Alfred and I have been here all afternoon, and we never saw Clark.”  He thought for a moment more, then glanced at Alfred questioningly.  “You don’t suppose…  Do you think he could have heard us talking and misunderstood the conversation?”

 

Lex looked up sharply.  “What conversation?”

 

“Alfred and I were just discussing…”  The normally stoic Bruce seemed a little off-balance, and glanced at Dick before continuing.  “I was telling Alfred about Dick showing up at the gym.”

 

An idea occurred to Lex, and his face took on a look of dawning comprehension.  “And what, exactly, happened after Dick came to the gym?”

 

“That’s private, Lex, and I don’t wish to discuss it right now,” Bruce said, annoyed, but the flush that suddenly covered Dick’s face told Lex all he needed to know, and to his guests’ surprise, he began to chuckle.

 

“I think I know why Clark was upset,” he told them with a little smile.  “I just need to find him, and I can straighten this out.  Mary, you said the open house was at the daycare center?”  At Mary’s nod, Lex took his keys from his pocket and headed for the door.  “Please, go ahead and enjoy your dinner.  I’m going to meet Clark at the open house.  How about we join you all later for brandy in the study?”

 

Enormously relieved to know that everything was fine and that Clark’s disappearance was due to a simple misunderstanding, Lex opened the penthouse door with a smile still on his face.  He was a little startled, when he came face to face with Paul, one of the doormen for LexCorp Towers, and he said with a short laugh, “Paul!  You surprised me.  What can I do for you this evening?”

 

But Paul didn’t return the smile, and his face wore an expression of concern as he handed a small package to Lex.  “Mr. Luthor, this just arrived downstairs.  A kid…a teenager…brought it in and said that some guy had given him fifty dollars to deliver it, to say that it was from ‘Lex Luthor’, and to tell you that you need to watch it immediately.  He said it’s concerning Mr. Kent.”

 

Lex felt the blood drain from his face, and in an instant, all the worry and concern for Clark that had just left him, returned a thousand times stronger.  “Paul, see if you can get that kid back for me, okay?” he heard himself say.

 

“Yes sir, Mr. Luthor,” Paul said, setting off at a quick trot down the hall.

 

“Lex, what’s going on?”

 

Lex looked up to see that Bruce was standing beside him, holding onto his arm as if he thought Lex might fall.  Lex opened the envelope and pulled out the videotape that he had already known would be inside, holding it up for Bruce to see.  “It’s from Larry Lewis.  It’s concerning Clark,” he said numbly.

 

Bruce, still gripping Lex’s arm, guided him back into the living room, taking the tape from Lex with a grim expression, and slipping it into the VCR.  In a daze, Lex sat on the sofa, heard Bruce explaining to the confused group of people in the living room in a low, serious tone what had happened at the door, felt someone sit next to him and grip his hand tightly.  He turned his head to see that it was Mary sitting beside him.  She looked so old, so fragile.  He squeezed her hand gently and said quietly, “Mary, I don’t…I don’t know if you should watch this.”

 

“I’ll be fine, Lex,” she assured him in a trembling voice, but she was as pale as Lex.

 

Bruce turned on the television, started the tape, and they all watched with sick apprehension.  There was a moment of fuzzy static, then the picture cleared and Larry Lewis’ face came into focus.

 

“Mr. Luthor,” Lewis began, snorting derisively after saying the name.  “As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, Mr. Kent is going to be living with me now.  It’s very simple really – if you come, right now, to 5771 Parkway Plaza, apartment number 712, you’ll get to see Mr. Kent one last time.  You have exactly one hour.  If you don’t come, I’ll kill him.  If you bring anyone with you – cops, bodyguards, anyone – I’ll kill him.  But if you do as I say, Mr. Kent lives.  If you need help deciding, maybe you should see this.”

 

The camera took a wide swing over to a sofa that was surrounded by glowing green rocks, where Clark lay writhing weakly, his veins dark and protruding, and his skin a sickly green.  Clark tried to lift his head and couldn’t manage more than a twitch, but he could clearly be heard whispering, “Lex, don’t come.  He’s gonna…gonna kill…”  Before Clark could finish his message to Lex, Lewis struck Clark hard across the face, and Clark fell silent.

 

Lex let out a low, keening whine, oblivious to Mary’s attempts at comfort, and Bruce’s hand squeezing his shoulder.

 

“Okay, Luthor.  Ball’s in your court now,” Lewis continued.  “See you within the hour…if you have the guts to come, that is.”  The tape abruptly jumped to static, and Bruce quietly moved to turn off the VCR and television.  

 

“Holy crap,” Dick murmured.  Lex glanced up to see that Dick looked a little sick himself.  “Lex, you have to let us help.  How can we help?” Dick asked, a note of panic in his voice.

 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Lex answered quietly.  He looked at Mary, tried to give her a smile, but failed miserably and settled for patting her hand.  His mind racing, he stood and headed for the door once again.  If he could just get to Clark and get him away from those rocks, they would be fine.

 

Bruce was at his side instantly.  “Lex, where are you going?”

 

“I’m going to get Clark,” Lex answered with more confidence than he felt.

 

Moving in front of Lex to block the door, Bruce put his hands on Lex’s shoulder, and bent his head to look directly into Lex’s eyes.  “Lex, you heard Clark.  Lewis is planning to kill you.  Clark asked you not to come.  As a Luthor, you’ve lived your entire life with the threat of kidnapping always hanging over you.  You know how people like this operate – you can’t negotiate with these terrorists.”

 

Lex’s head jerked up.  “I remember my father saying that once when I had been kidnapped.  He refused to meet my kidnapper’s demands.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Clark came for me.  I almost died, but…  Clark’s always there when I need him.”  Lex reached up to move Bruce’s hands from his shoulders.  “I need to go now, Bruce,” he said softly.

 

Bruce nodded resignedly.  “Then I’m coming with you.”

 

“No.  You heard what Lewis said.  If he sees anyone with me, Clark’s dead.”

 

“Lex…”

 

“No.  There’s nothing you can do.  Just…wish me luck,” Lex said with a wry smile.

 

Bruce stared for a long moment, before giving one final nod and moving aside.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Part Six

 

When Clark's eyes fluttered open, he quickly realized that the pain had lessened a little, enough for him to regain consciousness.  But he still felt horribly nauseous, felt the burning, slicing pain that moved through his veins, through his muscles...through every cell in his body.  As he focused his eyes on his surroundings, he realized that many of the larger meteors were gone.

 

"How many more of these should I move, Boss?" he heard the man, Todd, ask.

 

Lewis suddenly appeared, standing over Clark, a satisfied smile spreading over his face.  "Ah, he's waking.  That should be enough, Todd."

 

Clark flinched as Lewis sat on the sofa beside him and ran a hand through Clark's hair.  "Mr. Kent...may I call you Clark?" Lewis asked.  When Clark tried to turn his head away, Lewis gripped a fistful of Clark's hair and continued, in an amused tone, "Clark, we thought you were a goner there for a minute.  I had Todd take some of the rocks away...I had a feeling that would bring you around."  Clark resolutely ignored Lewis, shifting his eyes to focus instead on Todd, who was pacing the room nervously, muttering under his breath.

 

"Care to explain this to me, Clark?  Hmm?  I must say, I'm terribly curious to know what it is about these rocks that makes you so very sick."

 

"I don't...don't know," Clark whispered.

 

"Come on now, Clark.  I'm not a fool.  I consider myself a scientist, and I've been studying you for a while now."  Lewis leaned forward until he was inches from Clark's face and murmured, "I've seen you, you know...with him."  Lewis' voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as he said, "I've seen you fucking."

 

Clark's stomach flipped sickeningly, and he looked up at Lewis, his eyes wider.  Behind Lewis, Clark could see Todd growing more agitated, his voice rising until Clark could hear him grumbling, "Won't need me anymore...says he will, but he won't...only wants Kent now."

 

Still gripping Clark's hair, Lewis gave it a jerk, and when he had Clark's attention once more, he continued, "Why do you wear that ring, Clark?  When he fucks you...why do you wear the ring?"

 

Panic and revulsion filled Clark as his mind tried to process the realization that Lewis had somehow been able to spy on him and Lex; the realization that Lewis had made the connection between the ring and Clark's weakness to kryptonite.  "I...I don't...know what you mean," Clark stammered out, weakly.

 

A loud shriek from Todd caused Clark to jump.  "No!" the agitated man screamed.  "I won't do it...won't kill him!"  Clark stared in wonder, and as the man began striking himself in the head with his own fists, Clark realized with a start that Todd was insane and apparently having a mental breakdown right here...right now.

 

"Shut up, Todd," Lewis growled menacingly.  When Todd fell silent, looking at Lewis with frightened eyes, Lewis turned his attention back to Clark, and it was apparent he was losing his patience.  "You know exactly what I mean, Clark," he said coldly.  Lewis’ demeanor changed suddenly, and he leaned down once more, reaching up with his other hand to stroke Clark's cheek.  "From now on, I'll be the one fucking you.  Tell me what I need to know...tell me why you wear that ring."

 

Clark's stomach gave another lurch and he shook his head, trying to suppress the gag that was tightening his throat.  "No," he said, weakly.

 

Lewis laughed with what appeared to be genuine amusement and said cheerfully, "Oh, yes, Clark."  He resumed stroking Clark's face, running his fingers over Clark's lips.  "I'm going to kill him...you know that.  But I'm going to let you see him one last time."  Clark tried to turn his head away, but Lewis only gripped his hair tighter, then leaned closer, insinuating his finger between Clark's lips and trying to stroke his tongue.  His voice dropped to a whisper.  "Then, while you watch...because I want you to know that he's gone...I'm going to blow his brains out."

 

Clark whimpered, and suddenly the nausea was too much to bear.  He felt the bile rising in his throat and with very little forewarning, his body finally rejected the contents of his stomach, spewing them violently out.  Choking and coughing in the aftermath of his sickness, Clark would have felt pleased, if he hadn't been in so much pain, to see Lewis scowling and scrambling to get away, the front of his shirt covered with Clark's vomit.

 

Clark had to wonder if he did perhaps have a tiny smile on his face, because suddenly, Lewis' hand flew out to strike Clark against the face yet again, so hard that Clark's teeth clacked together and his head bumped against the hard arm of the sofa.  Lewis' face was almost purple with rage, and for a second Clark was sure that the man was going to kill him.

 

Todd, still pacing the room in long, erratic strides suddenly grabbed his head as if in pain, and shrieked, "Shouldn't have done that...shouldn't have done that."

 

That, at least, diverted Lewis' attention from Clark, as Lewis walked over to Todd, striking him across the face as well, until Todd stopped his pacing and stood, wild-eyed, staring at Lewis.  "Shut up, Todd, and watch him while I go clean up."  Lewis grabbed Todd by the shoulders, shaking him hard and repeating, "Watch him."

 

When Todd seemed a little more calm, a little more focused, Lewis gave a curt nod, and with one last look of disgust in Clark's direction, disappeared into the back of the apartment.  Clark raised a trembling arm, intending to wipe his mouth and face on his sleeve, but another surge of burning pain pulsed through his body, and he let his arm fall heavily.  It just wasn’t worth the effort.

 

“I won’t…won’t kill him…no.”  Todd had resumed his insane mutterings, staring down at the floor, hands clenched at his side.

 

It suddenly occurred to Clark that if he could talk with Todd, perhaps use the man’s own psychosis against him, he may have a chance, however slim, of getting out of here.  He watched Todd closely as he asked gently, “Who, Todd?  Who is it that…that you don’t want to kill?”

 

Todd’s head jerked up and when he looked at Clark, his eyes almost looked calm and sane.  “You.  They want me to kill you.”

 

Clark gave a weak nod, and asked, “Why, Todd?  Why do they want you to kill me?”

 

“Larry has you now…doesn’t need me anymore.”  The wild look was returning to Todd’s eyes, and he reached up to pull viciously at his own hair.  After a moment, he looked again at Clark, and said, “They say Larry’s going to throw me out…now that he has you.  I’ll…I’ll starve…I’ll die.  They say I have to kill you.”

 

Fear warred with hope when Clark realized the scenario playing out in Todd’s twisted mind.  “No, Todd.  You…you don’t have to kill me.”  Clark struggled to sit up, but only managed to raise his head a little before falling weakly back against the sofa.  “Just…just help me get…out of here.  Just get me…out of this room.  Then…Larry won’t have me any…anymore.”

 

Clark watched as Todd tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling, apparently consulting with the voices in his head.  “Help me, Todd.  Then Larry will still…still need you.”  When Todd’s face cleared beatifically and he nodded happily, Clark assumed that Todd’s voices approved of his plan, and he almost sobbed with relief.

 

In an instant, Todd was at his side, slipping his arms around Clark and struggling to lift Clark’s heavy, limp body.  Clark could hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom down the hall, and knew that they didn’t have much time.  He summoned what little strength he could muster, and tried to work with Todd, but he was almost completely helpless.

 

Grunting with the effort, Todd lifted Clark to his feet, and pain coursed through Clark’s body in waves so strong that he had to bite his lip until it bled in order to stifle the scream that wanted to escape.  Todd wrapped his arm firmly around Clark’s waist and began moving towards the door, half-walking, half-dragging Clark along.

 

Breathing in short, harsh gasps, Clark struggled on, each tiny, agonizing step bringing him closer to his only chance for freedom.  They were almost to the door when Clark heard the shower stop, and his heart began to race painfully within his chest.  “God…help…we have to…have to hurry, Todd.”

 

Even in his demented state, Todd understood clearly the need to move faster, and he wrapped his other arm around Clark and began dragging him towards the door desperately.  Clark watched the door grow closer…closer…so close.  Hope flared wildly when Todd, struggling to hold Clark up with one arm, managed to reach the doorknob…managed to twist it, the door swinging open.

 

In the next instant, Clark heard an inhuman growl that rose steadily in volume until it was a raging scream.  As if in slow motion, he saw Lewis raise his arm, a gun in his hand, and strike Todd hard at the base of his skull with the heavy handle of the gun.  Todd sank to the floor in an unconscious heap, and Clark, unable to support his own weight, fell heavily on top of Todd, finally giving in to the pain, the fear, and the frustration, and sobbing brokenly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bruce watched Lex walk determinedly down the hallway, waiting until Lex stepped inside the penthouse’s private elevator, before stepping back inside and closing the door quietly.  Pausing just outside the living room, he saw the small group within sitting solemnly, Alfred beside Mary on the sofa now, his arm around her frail shoulders.

 

Dick sat in an armchair, his body perched on the very edge of the seat, and even from across the room, Bruce could see the nervous energy, the eagerness for action, that thrummed through Dick's entire being.  Every nerve on alert, Dick immediately sensed Bruce's quiet, hovering presence and looked up, their eyes locking knowingly.

 

How long had it been?  Only a few months?  Not long ago, in a situation such as this, Bruce would have given Dick a slight nod, he and Dick would have excused themselves politely, and within moments, Batman and Robin would have been making their way to the crisis that their help was desperately needed to resolve.

 

But as Bruce looked resolutely into Dick's hopeful blue eyes, he realized that he couldn't...he just couldn't take the risk.  "Dick," he said quietly, and he knew that Dick knew him all too well, when he could see the disappointment already registering on Dick's face.  "Could you get some brandy for Mary...from the study, please?"

 

Dick's face fell and he stared at the floor for a moment before standing, answering curtly, "Of course," and leaving the room.

 

Bruce looked at Alfred, trying not to see the disapproval in the old man's eyes, as he said, "Alfred, Mary, if you'll excuse me for a moment.  I'll be back shortly."  Bruce went quickly to the guest room, shutting the door behind him, and trying desperately to convince himself that he had made the right decision as he began donning the familiar black suit.  He was dressed and had the bedroom window open when he heard the door click shut.

 

"I thought we'd come to an understanding, Bruce," Dick said softly.

 

"I'm sorry, Dick.  I just don't think you're ready.  Your shoulder isn't healed..."

 

"My shoulder is fine!" Dick interrupted vehemently.  He walked over to Bruce, reaching up to stroke Bruce's arm.  "You promised to try, Bruce.  Just this morning...you promised."  He looked up into Bruce's face, connecting with the dark eyes behind the mask.  "You have to let me be who I am," Dick reminded him seriously.

 

An uncomfortable fear took hold in Bruce's mind.  If he let Dick come and he was injured again...or killed...  Bruce didn't know how he would survive that.  But if he refused to allow Dick to help, Dick would leave.  He would go back to the boy in Bludhaven who made him feel like an adult.

 

Bruce thought for a moment, then taking a deep breath, completely uncertain about the decision he had just made, Bruce reached out and cupped Dick's face, stroking his cheek with a black-gloved thumb.  "You brought the suit?" he asked.

 

Dick's face broke into a broad smile and he nodded.

 

Managing a tiny smile of his own, Bruce said, "Then suit up."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lex reached apartment number 712, and without a moment's hesitation, took a deep breath and rapped sharply on the door.  He heard laughter from within before the door had even begun to open.

 

"Come in, come in," Lewis greeted him, as if he were a close friend arriving for a party, rather than the doomed man Lewis was about to murder.  "I knew you would come," Lewis said, closing the door behind Lex and sliding the lock into place.

 

Scanning the apartment, Lex quickly took in the situation, took note of the sheer volume of glowing meteors and of the dark-haired man slouched against the wall rubbing the back of his neck.  But it was the sight of Clark lying so still on the floor in the middle of the apartment that made his heart jump.  Lex rushed forward, only to be stopped abruptly by Lewis.

 

"Hold on there...you wouldn't be armed, would you?  Take off your jacket and toss it over there, on the sofa."

 

Slipping his suit jacket off slowly and throwing it to the sofa, Lex started forward once more, stopping again when Lewis moved in front of him.  Lewis frisked Lex, feeling carefully for anything that Lex might use as a weapon against him.  When he found nothing, he jerked his head towards Clark and said, "Okay.  You've got ten minutes, so make it count."

 

Lex rushed to Clark's side, dropping to his knees on the dirty carpet and laying his palm against Clark's cold, clammy cheek, gently turning his head.  Clark's eyes flickered open and were immediately filled with distress. "Lex...oh, Lex.  I told you...told you not to come."

 

"Shh, Clark.  I had to come.  You know that," Lex said, reaching into his back pocket to remove a clean linen handkerchief.  His fingers smoothed the damp tendrils of Clark's hair from where they lay plastered across his forehead, before tenderly wiping the sweat and grime from Clark's face and mouth with the soft cloth.

 

Clark whimpered softly and tried to shake his head.  "He...he says he's going...to kill you.  And I can't....can't protect you, Lex...can't this time."

 

"I know, Clark.  I know," Lex whispered, caressing Clark's face soothingly.  "It doesn't matter."

 

"Shouldn't...shouldn't have come," Clark moaned.

 

Lex bent low, pressing his lips to Clark's damp forehead for a moment before saying, "It doesn't matter what Lewis does to me, Clark.  He would have killed you if I hadn't come, and don't you know by now?"  Lex moved until his lips were touching the shell of Clark's ear, and he whispered softly, "I wouldn't want to live without you anyway."

 

Clark squeezed his eyes shut, and a tear rolled down the side of his face.  Lex wiped it away with the handkerchief, then kissed Clark's forehead again, and said, "Shh, Clark.  It's okay.  Whatever happens...we're together."

 

Suddenly, it was of the utmost importance to Lex to make sure that Clark understood.  He took Clark's face in both hands and waited until Clark's eyes were open and clear and focused on him before saying, "Clark, whatever happens...whatever Lewis does to me...I want you to know I have no regrets.  I love you, so much."

 

At Clark's weak nod, Lex continued, "I don't know what you heard this afternoon at the penthouse, but Clark...just so you know...Dick showed up at the gym this morning."  Clark's eyes got a little wider, and Lex smiled as he continued, "He ambushed Bruce in the shower room.  And I don't know exactly what happened after I left, but I have a feeling it was a lot like those porn movies you watch."

 

Clark tried to laugh a little, but it came out as a choked wheeze, and Lex wiped the sweat from Clark's face as he tried to catch his breath.  When he could breathe again, Clark smiled weakly and said, "I knew...knew it was something...like that."

 

They looked at each other and Lex smiled, stroking Clark's arm and trying to pour all of his love into Clark through his eyes, seeing all of Clark's love reflected back there.  He felt his eyes watering, but he breathed deeply and pushed it all back inside.  He was determined to spend his last moments of life showing Clark nothing but the happiness that Clark had given him.

 

"Well, boys, it's time to say goodbye," Lewis' mocking voice informed them.  Lex bent over to give Clark one last kiss...a soft, tender kiss pressed to Clark's trembling lips.  He pulled back, touched Clark's face gently, then moved away, wanting to get far enough that Clark would be safe when Lewis...

 

Lex looked up, steadily meeting Lewis' gaze, as Lewis raised the gun in his hand, training it on the space between Lex's eyes.  Clark cried out, and with all the strength he could muster tried to sit up, but collapsed again, heavily, with an agonized sob.  He looked up to see Todd standing beside Lewis, Todd's eyes huge and wild, his face deathly pale.  With no strength left, Clark looked into Todd's eyes, and gave one last, whispered entreaty, "Please."

 

For one irrational moment, Clark thought that the crazed voices inside Todd's head must be real entities, that they must have heard Clark's request, and that they were on Clark's side, because with that one, whispered word, all hell broke loose inside the small apartment.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bruce gripped the cable in his fist more tightly and felt the heady, exhilarating rush of adrenaline as he swung easily through the cold, dark night, smashing forcefully through the large window of the apartment.  Every sense on heightened alert, he was aware, even while flying through the shattered glass, that Dick had done his part and was crashing through the door of the apartment at that exact moment; aware that as Batman and Robin, they were, as they always had been, in perfect harmony and synchronization with each other.

 

Bruce had trained himself to evaluate a crisis situation at a glance, to think quickly and calculate his next move instantly.  But before Bruce’s feet even touched the apartment floor, the opening he needed made itself easily apparent when he saw the dark-haired man standing in front of Clark make a sudden lunge at the bald man with the gun.

 

With a primal scream, the man tackled Lewis, and for a brief, satisfied moment, seeing that Dick was already moving in to apprehend Lewis, Bruce thought that this situation was going to be resolved quickly and easily.  When he heard the gun fire, however, he was reminded that nothing is ever easy.

 

A second shot rang out, and Bruce’s eyes flew instinctively to Dick, already searching Dick’s body, with an almost debilitating fear gripping his heart, for evidence of a gunshot wound.  For one protracted second, the world came to a stop.  When it started again, Bruce saw that Dick was still moving surely, steadily towards the kidnappers on the floor.

 

But his relief was short-lived when he heard Lex’s shocked cry, “No….no!”  Lex was leaning over Clark’s still body, his hands skimming frantically over Clark while a deep red stain appeared on Clark’s shirt, and grew, blooming slowly.

 

Looking up, Bruce saw that Dick had wrenched the gun from Lewis’ hand and had already twisted the man’s arms viciously behind his back, slapping handcuffs around his wrists.  One glance at the dark-haired man, who was lying still and pale, confirmed where the other bullet had landed.

 

Bruce moved quickly to the phone sitting on a small end table, and dialed 911, giving their location to the woman who answered and requesting both an ambulance and policemen.  As Bruce spoke with the woman, he watched Lex rip Clark’s shirt open, and felt a horrified sadness when he saw the dark, gaping wound in the center of Clark’s chest.  Clark wouldn’t live long enough to need an ambulance.

 

Trying not to think of just how easily that could have been Dick laying there, Bruce concentrated on Lex, watching him grow increasingly agitated.  Lex had left Clark’s side and was frantically gathering up the green rocks, then running to throw them outside the apartment as far as he could hurl them, muttering the whole time, “Hang on, Clark.  Just hang on.”

 

A memory that Bruce hadn’t recalled in many years, suddenly came to him in a rush:  Lex, when they were just kids at Excelsior, cuddling a rolled up blanket and crooning lullabies to it softly.  The death of Lex’s baby brother had traumatized him so badly, that he had had a mental breakdown, and now, Bruce was sure that the shock of seeing Clark shot, dying, was causing another episode.

 

Bruce completed the call, and went to Lex, placing a strong hand on his shoulder.  Glancing at Clark, who was lying still, but conscious, his eyes large and frightened and his breath coming in painful little gasps, Bruce said quietly, “You should be with him.”

 

He guided Lex towards Clark, but Lex paused only a second to say, “Please, Clark.  Hang on, babe,” then resumed his frantic gathering of the rocks.  Suddenly, Lex stopped and looked around at the hundreds…the thousands…of tiny meteor chips littering the carpet, a frustrated and overwhelmed expression on his face.  He let out an agonized sob, “I can’t…there’s too many…I can’t get them all in time.”

 

To Bruce’s surprise, Lex fell to his knees and began, pitifully, trying to gather Clark’s large, heavy body into his arms.  Clark cried out with pain, and clutched convulsively at Lex’s arms, trying to speak.  Bruce could just make out the word, “Lex,” but it came out as a weak gurgle, and a thin rivulet of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

 

Lex released another choked sob, and doubled his efforts, pulling at Clark with all his might, and murmuring, “I’ll get you out of here, babe.  Hang on, hang on.”

 

Bruce knelt on the floor beside Lex, reaching out to capture Lex’s hands and holding them easily when Lex struggled frantically.  “Stop,” Bruce said gently, “You need to stop.  Trying to move him could make his injury worse.”

 

Lex looked into Bruce’s eyes, and said, “You don’t understand…if I can just get him out of here…away from these rocks.  You have to help me…please.”  When Bruce shook his head sadly, Lex’s voice grew loud and urgent, “Please!  You have to believe me.  Just help me get him out of here and you’ll see that I’m right.”

 

Bruce looked deep into his old friend’s eyes, and was surprised to see that they were clear and determined; they didn’t look like the eyes of a madman.  He looked again at Clark, and realized that he would be dead soon anyway – moving him at this point would make no difference.  When Clark caught his eyes, and made a choked noise that sounded like a whispered, “Please,” Bruce nodded and reached down to gather Clark up in his arms, lifting him easily and laying him as gently as possible over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

 

When Clark cried out in pain, Bruce had misgivings, but Lex’s face was so hopeful, so sure, and he was whispering, “Thank you, thank you,” over and over.  Bruce gave another short nod and moved towards the apartment door.

 

Before he had taken two steps, the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway, rapidly approaching the apartment, reached their ears, and Bruce watched curiously as a look of panic flared across Lex’s face.  He grew even more intrigued when Lex whirled around, searching the apartment and said, “Is there another way out of here?”

 

Bruce had wondered about Clark before.  He had watched him intently, knowing that there was more there than met the eye at a quick glance.  The pieces of the puzzle that was Clark Kent began to slip tentatively into place.  Instinctively, Bruce understood the need for secrecy and was suddenly hopeful that if he could get him out of here, Clark might actually be all right.

 

Moving quickly towards the large, broken window he had come through, Bruce stepped through and grasped the cable that still hung there.  As he began a slow, careful descent, he looked back into the apartment to see Lex’s shocked face, and he hoped desperately that he was making the right decision in spiriting Clark away from the scene of a kidnapping.

 

When Bruce reached the level of the sixth floor, Clark moaned and Bruce tried to ease his grip a little.  They continued slowly downward, and when they reached the fifth floor, Clark began stirring, shifting his body, and Bruce tightened his hold once more.

 

When the third floor came into view, Bruce was shocked to see Clark’s hand reach up and firmly grip the cable right above his own hand, and by the second floor, he could tell that Clark was actually supporting much of his own weight.

 

But the biggest shock came when they neared the ground, and Clark pulled himself up with the cable, swinging easily away from Bruce to drop the rest of the way, landing lightly on his feet.  Bruce heard himself laugh a little as he and Clark stood staring at each other, he with his mouth hanging open, Clark looking up nervously from beneath his lashes.

 

Clark’s ripped shirt had fallen open, and Bruce stared with disbelief at his chest.  Reaching out with his gloved hand, Bruce carefully wiped the blood away to find that Clark’s chest was indeed, smooth and completely unblemished, the gaping wound that he had seen there just moments earlier…completely gone.

 

Bruce felt a thrill of incredible wonder, and looking into Clark’s eyes, whispered, “Who…what are you?”  He saw the fear flash across Clark’s face, saw his eyes darting furtively around, and knew that Clark was considering fleeing.  He laid a hand on Clark’s arm, and said quietly, “Relax.  I would never tell anyone what I’ve seen tonight.”  He saw Clark’s eyes traveling down, then back up, taking in every detail of Batman’s dark appearance.  Bruce smiled a little and commented, “I understand about keeping secrets.”

 

When Clark relaxed slightly, he tried once more, asking, “How?  How is it that you were almost dead just a few minutes ago, and now you’re fine?”

 

Nervously, Clark shifted from one foot to the other before answering evasively, “It’s…complicated.”

 

Bruce smiled beneath the mask, and said, “It always is.  Just tell me…what were those rocks?  What do they do to you?”

 

Clark met his eyes, and the frightened look was back.  Just as Clark opened his mouth to speak, they heard, “Clark!  Clark!” and saw Lex exiting the building and running towards them.  Whatever Clark had intended to say was instantly forgotten when he saw Lex.  Bruce saw the transformation of Clark’s face; one moment he looked cautious and fearful and the next his face glowed with relief and love and happiness.

 

Bruce stood back and watched as Clark and Lex rushed together, arms wrapping tightly around each other and clinging.  He watched as they buried their faces in each other’s necks, sobbing and laughing simultaneously.  Bruce saw Lex’s body when it began to shake, saw Clark’s arms tighten a little more, and even over Clark’s whispers of, “It’s okay, Lex.  I’m all right.  It’s okay now,” Bruce could hear Lex’s teeth chattering with his violent trembling.

 

A hard, painful knot began forming in Bruce’s gut, and though he wanted to share in their happiness, all he could think about was how close they had come to losing each other…and how easily it could have been Dick who had been shot.  Bruce’s unease grew as memories of the night that Dick had been shot came rushing in on him, and all the old fears resurfaced.

 

Bruce watched as his friend, one of the most brilliant and powerful businessmen he had ever known, disintegrated into a shaking, sobbing wreck, and he silently vowed that that would never happen to him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

(to be continued)

 

 

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