hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-05-29 11:21 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-05-29 11:21 am
Look! It even has dialogue
Crap crap crap crap…
I’m frozen up again. No, not my sex life – smart asses - I meant my fic mainline. I need someone to change the drip, I think my baggie is empty. Seriously. I have nothing flowing in my veins right now. Nowt. maybe I’m still in shock from last Tuesday. Shit. It’s been a whole week already? I must be in shock. Anyway, this is for Lar until I can get my Wesley muse with the programme
There’s always that one crack in the wall that wasn’t filled in. That one escape route that wasn’t plugged in as a possibility.
There’s always that one option that people forget to think of.
Lex knows all about this option because he always makes a point of thinking of *that* particular thought first. He doesn’t have to look for things in that proverbial last place because he doesn’t lose things. Lex knows everything about everyone and nothing ever surprises him. But sometimes. Sometimes he’s not so sure about all that.
Sometimes thing’s are unexpected. Like Clark.
Lex has always thought about how The Conversation would go. That defining conversation that would happen between them. That would make them who they will be – together.
Lex knows what he will say, what Clark will say. The way that he’ll take the high road in the beginning before capitulating. Before allowing Clark the relief of his forgiveness. Acceptance.
It’s how it supposed to be.
It never went quite like this though.
Of course, in Lex’s dreamscape, Clark never caught him playing Solitare on his computer either.
“Hey, Lex.”
“Clark.”
Cursory nod. A wave of the hand, and voila, Clark Kent sitting in front of his desk. Whomever said that Luthors didn’t have magic powers obviously never met Lex.
Except when Lex glances up, waiting for that 1000-Watt Clark Grin of Blindness, instead he finds wide eyes and a wobbling mouth, and wait. Isn’t Lex supposed to be on the other side of the desk for that effect to happen? Isn’t Clark’s lower lip suppose to do that thing *after* the first time he kisses Lex? After Clark has confessed all his secrets and his burning passion for Lex that has conveniently wiped out all memories of Lana Limp?
Lex doesn’t remember this part of the script. He hates last minute re-shoots.
“Clark, is something wrong?”
“Umm. Possibly?”
“Possibly?”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Possibly. Maybe. All that’s missing is ‘perhaps’ and ‘no comment.’ Could Clark be any more vague? A mental slap as Lex realizes that this is *Clark* he’s dealing with. Someone who has an impressive knack for being obtuse, vague and rather slippery about certain things. Certain truths. But otherwise an upstanding, Smallville citizen.
“Okay, yes, definitely.”
Finally, an answer. Something Lex can work with because he’s a brilliant problem solver; and all solutions must start somewhere. So Lex reaches out to push Ben’s button on the speed dial, because in Lex’s practice, lawyers should always be the first number on speed dial. Or if not the first number, at least in the first three.
But Lex never actually gets to push the button because Clark has his hand around Lex’s wrist and it’s just on *this* side of too hard.
“Lex, I. I definitely have something I really need to *tell* you, right now.”
Okay, if Clark wants to tell him first fine. But he needs to speed things up because clean-up can’t start until he makes the call.
“Okay. Talk to me.”
“Well, it’s not that sort of thing that I can just say. It’s a bit hard for me to. To just, you know.”
And Lex suddenly realizes they’re not on the same page. Not even reading the same book.
“Clark, ” swift jerk of a raven head. “You’re not in legal trouble are you?”
“What? No!”
Oh, so much for that white charger then.
“Okay, so then what’s this pressing news that you have to tell me?”
“Yeah. I really need to tell you because I just thought about it and I think that maybe you should know. And I know I haven’t been really truthful and I can’t, we can’t until I do. And actually, no. I *know* you should know and I feel like I need to tell you.”
Clark babbled, and Lex followed it. Kind of. Maybe Lex should start thinking about his mental needs. Like the ones involving a drink.
A pause. “Everybody needs something, Clark.”
“No, this is something I really *need* to tell *you*.”
A pause again while Lex considers this statement. The issue is what part of that sentence Clark was emphasizing. Did he need to tell *Lex*, or did he just need to tell *somebody*.
“Is this ‘need’ like you ‘need to use the bathroom’ need? Or need like you’re going to spontaneously combust if you don’t tell *me* need?”
More silence wherein Clark is doing that thing that only he can do. That endearing, guileless fidget that makes Lex want to handcuff Clark’s hands behind his back and unbutton his jeans. A release for both parties involved.
“A bit of both?”
“Okay. What do you need from *me*, Clark?”
It’s been a long time since Lex has fully loaded a sentence that way. Only Clark could make him so careless, so assured that the second, third and fifth meanings will be completely missed.
“I have this thing to tell you and…”
More about the need and less with the circumnavigating. At the rate they’re going Clark will still be babbling this time tomorrow, and Lex will still be poking at the word ‘need’ like it’s uncooked squid. He’s stuck on it like a tape loop.
“You can always tell me anything, Clark.”
“Yeah, I know that but this is different. I - I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
“React? You’re expecting a reaction?” A pause. “From me?”
“Well, kinda. Yeah.”
So this has really got to be something big. Something that Clark has been keeping a secret for a long time. Something he’s been hiding from Lex. Something that’s going to change their relationship forever.
It can’t be.
Maybe Lex really does *need* to hear this. This is the sort of news he can’t hear from the business side of his desk.
Quick roll of the chair, and Lex is out from behind the glass monstrosity and kneeling down next to Clark’s chair.
No need to scare the children.
Okay, not the children but the young, underage minor who Lex has been lusting after for months. Thinking about children right now is not going to help the issue.
Deep breath and Lex can so do this. “Well, is it good news?”
“I think that really depends on your point of view.”
“My point of view is pretty adaptable.”
“I know you – I mean it is. It’s just…”
A hand on the knee and eyes as trusting as Lex can make them when inside he’s jumping up and down for glee. Or not. Luthors don’t jump for glee, but Lex sure feels like he is. It’s certainly taken Clark long enough.
“Clark,” soft voice, probably a bit too husky, but hey. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I know it can. It’s just. Well, it’s hard.”
It certainly is and Lex isn’t thinking that. Definitely not saying it.
“I’ve never told anyone this before…”
This is just getting better and better.
“Lex, I – I’m not human.”
And then there’s blinking. A lot of blinking and Lex needs to sit down. Or stand up. Or something. He needs to keep moving because, wow, not expecting that one.
“Lex? Lex? Are you… are you okay with that?”
More silence and Lex just, well. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Lex?” Slight rise in voice. Tinge of panic.
“Lex! Say something.”
Momentary realization and well, Lex said he was adaptable.
“I thought you were going to say you were gay.”
-finis-
I’m frozen up again. No, not my sex life – smart asses - I meant my fic mainline. I need someone to change the drip, I think my baggie is empty. Seriously. I have nothing flowing in my veins right now. Nowt. maybe I’m still in shock from last Tuesday. Shit. It’s been a whole week already? I must be in shock. Anyway, this is for Lar until I can get my Wesley muse with the programme
There’s always that one crack in the wall that wasn’t filled in. That one escape route that wasn’t plugged in as a possibility.
There’s always that one option that people forget to think of.
Lex knows all about this option because he always makes a point of thinking of *that* particular thought first. He doesn’t have to look for things in that proverbial last place because he doesn’t lose things. Lex knows everything about everyone and nothing ever surprises him. But sometimes. Sometimes he’s not so sure about all that.
Sometimes thing’s are unexpected. Like Clark.
Lex has always thought about how The Conversation would go. That defining conversation that would happen between them. That would make them who they will be – together.
Lex knows what he will say, what Clark will say. The way that he’ll take the high road in the beginning before capitulating. Before allowing Clark the relief of his forgiveness. Acceptance.
It’s how it supposed to be.
It never went quite like this though.
Of course, in Lex’s dreamscape, Clark never caught him playing Solitare on his computer either.
“Hey, Lex.”
“Clark.”
Cursory nod. A wave of the hand, and voila, Clark Kent sitting in front of his desk. Whomever said that Luthors didn’t have magic powers obviously never met Lex.
Except when Lex glances up, waiting for that 1000-Watt Clark Grin of Blindness, instead he finds wide eyes and a wobbling mouth, and wait. Isn’t Lex supposed to be on the other side of the desk for that effect to happen? Isn’t Clark’s lower lip suppose to do that thing *after* the first time he kisses Lex? After Clark has confessed all his secrets and his burning passion for Lex that has conveniently wiped out all memories of Lana Limp?
Lex doesn’t remember this part of the script. He hates last minute re-shoots.
“Clark, is something wrong?”
“Umm. Possibly?”
“Possibly?”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Possibly. Maybe. All that’s missing is ‘perhaps’ and ‘no comment.’ Could Clark be any more vague? A mental slap as Lex realizes that this is *Clark* he’s dealing with. Someone who has an impressive knack for being obtuse, vague and rather slippery about certain things. Certain truths. But otherwise an upstanding, Smallville citizen.
“Okay, yes, definitely.”
Finally, an answer. Something Lex can work with because he’s a brilliant problem solver; and all solutions must start somewhere. So Lex reaches out to push Ben’s button on the speed dial, because in Lex’s practice, lawyers should always be the first number on speed dial. Or if not the first number, at least in the first three.
But Lex never actually gets to push the button because Clark has his hand around Lex’s wrist and it’s just on *this* side of too hard.
“Lex, I. I definitely have something I really need to *tell* you, right now.”
Okay, if Clark wants to tell him first fine. But he needs to speed things up because clean-up can’t start until he makes the call.
“Okay. Talk to me.”
“Well, it’s not that sort of thing that I can just say. It’s a bit hard for me to. To just, you know.”
And Lex suddenly realizes they’re not on the same page. Not even reading the same book.
“Clark, ” swift jerk of a raven head. “You’re not in legal trouble are you?”
“What? No!”
Oh, so much for that white charger then.
“Okay, so then what’s this pressing news that you have to tell me?”
“Yeah. I really need to tell you because I just thought about it and I think that maybe you should know. And I know I haven’t been really truthful and I can’t, we can’t until I do. And actually, no. I *know* you should know and I feel like I need to tell you.”
Clark babbled, and Lex followed it. Kind of. Maybe Lex should start thinking about his mental needs. Like the ones involving a drink.
A pause. “Everybody needs something, Clark.”
“No, this is something I really *need* to tell *you*.”
A pause again while Lex considers this statement. The issue is what part of that sentence Clark was emphasizing. Did he need to tell *Lex*, or did he just need to tell *somebody*.
“Is this ‘need’ like you ‘need to use the bathroom’ need? Or need like you’re going to spontaneously combust if you don’t tell *me* need?”
More silence wherein Clark is doing that thing that only he can do. That endearing, guileless fidget that makes Lex want to handcuff Clark’s hands behind his back and unbutton his jeans. A release for both parties involved.
“A bit of both?”
“Okay. What do you need from *me*, Clark?”
It’s been a long time since Lex has fully loaded a sentence that way. Only Clark could make him so careless, so assured that the second, third and fifth meanings will be completely missed.
“I have this thing to tell you and…”
More about the need and less with the circumnavigating. At the rate they’re going Clark will still be babbling this time tomorrow, and Lex will still be poking at the word ‘need’ like it’s uncooked squid. He’s stuck on it like a tape loop.
“You can always tell me anything, Clark.”
“Yeah, I know that but this is different. I - I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
“React? You’re expecting a reaction?” A pause. “From me?”
“Well, kinda. Yeah.”
So this has really got to be something big. Something that Clark has been keeping a secret for a long time. Something he’s been hiding from Lex. Something that’s going to change their relationship forever.
It can’t be.
Maybe Lex really does *need* to hear this. This is the sort of news he can’t hear from the business side of his desk.
Quick roll of the chair, and Lex is out from behind the glass monstrosity and kneeling down next to Clark’s chair.
No need to scare the children.
Okay, not the children but the young, underage minor who Lex has been lusting after for months. Thinking about children right now is not going to help the issue.
Deep breath and Lex can so do this. “Well, is it good news?”
“I think that really depends on your point of view.”
“My point of view is pretty adaptable.”
“I know you – I mean it is. It’s just…”
A hand on the knee and eyes as trusting as Lex can make them when inside he’s jumping up and down for glee. Or not. Luthors don’t jump for glee, but Lex sure feels like he is. It’s certainly taken Clark long enough.
“Clark,” soft voice, probably a bit too husky, but hey. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I know it can. It’s just. Well, it’s hard.”
It certainly is and Lex isn’t thinking that. Definitely not saying it.
“I’ve never told anyone this before…”
This is just getting better and better.
“Lex, I – I’m not human.”
And then there’s blinking. A lot of blinking and Lex needs to sit down. Or stand up. Or something. He needs to keep moving because, wow, not expecting that one.
“Lex? Lex? Are you… are you okay with that?”
More silence and Lex just, well. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Lex?” Slight rise in voice. Tinge of panic.
“Lex! Say something.”
Momentary realization and well, Lex said he was adaptable.
“I thought you were going to say you were gay.”
-finis-
Re:
Re:
and let me tell you with all the practice he's had, that means sucks in the good way !!! *BG*
And I won't listen to a word to the contrary ...