Technically, I'm very anti-V Day.
Feb. 11th, 2003 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archiveFuck. I missed ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bezzy’s birthday, but you know I love you babe. I sent the card on time at least!
+++
Smallville
Sonnet 130
“They beat Saint Valentine to death with clubs,” Lex remarks when he notices the pink envelope on his chair. There’s no one there to say that ‘they’ might have been a bit harsh, or that Saint Valentine needed a better PR guide.
There’s no one else in the office at all.
Lex hasn’t even been home all day, and his fingers begin to itch acutely for something he didn’t even know existed. Perhaps because it's his name is on the front of the Hallmark card.
Lex hasn’t received a Valentine since his mother died.
Inside there’s a white index card with highlighted text, and when Lex reads it he can feel the blood running to his face. Blushing isn’t something he’s known for, and yet, maybe that’s what this calls for. He’s not sure if this is a very big joke or just a very cruel one.
“It may have escaped your notice,” Lex announces as the envelope falls from his fingers. “But I don’t actually have any hair.”
There’s a rather cavernous silence following this statement, but he feels the overwhelming need to announce it anyway. To state the obvious for whatever new bugs may have found their way into his office.
Lex waits several seconds more for something he’s not quite sure about. A response. An answer. When none are forthcoming, he takes a somewhat shaky breath and begins to think about martyrs and Trojan horses.
Lex would know Clark’s handwriting anywhere.
*
Lex doesn’t have mistresses; he has lovers. On occasion he’s had several at once, but the word ‘mistress’ immediate sparks images of his father and the ‘other’ women.
Lex doesn’t want Martha Kent to be an ‘other’ woman.
Lex doesn't want Martha Kent to be anything but what she already is. The same can't be said for Clark.
Lex doesn’t want to be anyone’s other woman either; and he fingers the index card during plant inspection with Gabe, all the while thinking of sonnets, high school curriculums and ‘eyes that are nothing like the sun.’
Lex has never waxed poetic about his own eyes. They’re just blueish-gray. Nothing special considering he looks at them every day. He thinks they're nothing to inspire poetry when explanations are already less than forth coming. Not that Lex would want an apology that wasn’t heartfelt, but perhaps this is an apology of sorts. A truce.
Shakespeare would not have approved.
*
It’s not as though Lex doesn’t know Sonnet 130 backwards and forwards and every which way including loose. He just doesn’t expect for Kansas schoolboys to use Shakespeare for their attempts at wooing, because this is most definitely something like that. Unless Clark is severely mistaken, or Lex has changed gender in his sleep.
Still, the card is his now, so in a way it's all right that he’s slightly concerned and not a bit appalled. Yet underneath it all is a sense of pride because he inspired this in Clark, and Lex's instincts tells him that Lana never did.
*
A blue index card falls out of Lex’s coat and onto the floor of the new Carrera when he’s driving down Route 91 towards Metropolis. Every instinct in him says to pull over to the side and throw it out the window, or perhaps to set it on fire because didn’t Lana have a stalker who was into poetry as well? And what if this is all a passing obsession? What if Clark is still angry about whatever, and considering that Lex isn't necessarily feeling that forgiving right now, maybe this isn't a good idea. Besides, Lex has already had his share of stalkers. Lex has already had his share of half-truths and deciphering between the lines.
Except that Lex doesn’t have to peer hard to know whose sweeping hand is being bunched between those pale green lines. There are more highlighted passages, but they don’t look to be the same as the last time.
So if Lex just bends to the side a bit, then the car will swerve across the line and he’ll die. Again. He'll never get to read the card then. Plus, this is a bit far out of town to be on Clark’s radar, so perhaps it’s for the best if Lex does just pull over and shift the car into neutral.
He makes sure to keep the motor running.
Same poem, different emphasis.
Lex doesn’t remember Clark ever mentioning anything about liking the way Lex speaks.
*
Valentine’s Day, proper, falls six days after Lex receives the blue index card.
In the time between, Lex polishes up on his sonnets and his plays, and everything that he’s learned about why Shakespeare was more than just a hack. Lex isn’t sure what he expects to find when he walks into his office on D-Day, but he refuses to feel disappointment over a lack of envelopes or high school boys who are probably in their first class of the day by now. So as the day progresses, Lex forgets all about Shakespeare and loves so rare, or if he doesn’t forget, at least he doesn’t make a show of remembering either.
Until he sits down at his desk at four p.m. and is confronted with a glaring yellow post-it note that has a crow in the bottom right-hand corner.
Obviously they don’t teach all the sonnets in Clark’s English class, or Clark simply has run out of material. Either way about it Lex has to read the note out loud to make sure it says what he thinks it does.
//You don't choose who you love.
You just do.//
It’s not Shakespeare; it’s not even poetry, and yet it says a lot more about life than anything Lex has dealt with in a long time. So when Lex plucks the note off his desk, grabs the keys to the car, and winds up running into Clark in the front hall, Lex finds himself going for action over thought.
And when he kisses Clark and Clark kisses him back, Lex starts to think that maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.
-finis-
Notes:
Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Re-edited the edit to note: Everwood people: a)chickwithmonkey, plum_evil, babywitch and nefeleo are all on board the Colin/Ephram writing bus. Go and give them love. b) Everybody force rageprufrock to get with the program and write some as well. She wants to, but is in massive denial. Bad Pru.
bezzy’s birthday, but you know I love you babe. I sent the card on time at least!+++
Smallville
Sonnet 130
“They beat Saint Valentine to death with clubs,” Lex remarks when he notices the pink envelope on his chair. There’s no one there to say that ‘they’ might have been a bit harsh, or that Saint Valentine needed a better PR guide.
There’s no one else in the office at all.
Lex hasn’t even been home all day, and his fingers begin to itch acutely for something he didn’t even know existed. Perhaps because it's his name is on the front of the Hallmark card.
Lex hasn’t received a Valentine since his mother died.
Inside there’s a white index card with highlighted text, and when Lex reads it he can feel the blood running to his face. Blushing isn’t something he’s known for, and yet, maybe that’s what this calls for. He’s not sure if this is a very big joke or just a very cruel one.
“It may have escaped your notice,” Lex announces as the envelope falls from his fingers. “But I don’t actually have any hair.”
There’s a rather cavernous silence following this statement, but he feels the overwhelming need to announce it anyway. To state the obvious for whatever new bugs may have found their way into his office.
Lex waits several seconds more for something he’s not quite sure about. A response. An answer. When none are forthcoming, he takes a somewhat shaky breath and begins to think about martyrs and Trojan horses.
Lex would know Clark’s handwriting anywhere.
*
Lex doesn’t have mistresses; he has lovers. On occasion he’s had several at once, but the word ‘mistress’ immediate sparks images of his father and the ‘other’ women.
Lex doesn’t want Martha Kent to be an ‘other’ woman.
Lex doesn't want Martha Kent to be anything but what she already is. The same can't be said for Clark.
Lex doesn’t want to be anyone’s other woman either; and he fingers the index card during plant inspection with Gabe, all the while thinking of sonnets, high school curriculums and ‘eyes that are nothing like the sun.’
Lex has never waxed poetic about his own eyes. They’re just blueish-gray. Nothing special considering he looks at them every day. He thinks they're nothing to inspire poetry when explanations are already less than forth coming. Not that Lex would want an apology that wasn’t heartfelt, but perhaps this is an apology of sorts. A truce.
Shakespeare would not have approved.
*
It’s not as though Lex doesn’t know Sonnet 130 backwards and forwards and every which way including loose. He just doesn’t expect for Kansas schoolboys to use Shakespeare for their attempts at wooing, because this is most definitely something like that. Unless Clark is severely mistaken, or Lex has changed gender in his sleep.
Still, the card is his now, so in a way it's all right that he’s slightly concerned and not a bit appalled. Yet underneath it all is a sense of pride because he inspired this in Clark, and Lex's instincts tells him that Lana never did.
*
A blue index card falls out of Lex’s coat and onto the floor of the new Carrera when he’s driving down Route 91 towards Metropolis. Every instinct in him says to pull over to the side and throw it out the window, or perhaps to set it on fire because didn’t Lana have a stalker who was into poetry as well? And what if this is all a passing obsession? What if Clark is still angry about whatever, and considering that Lex isn't necessarily feeling that forgiving right now, maybe this isn't a good idea. Besides, Lex has already had his share of stalkers. Lex has already had his share of half-truths and deciphering between the lines.
Except that Lex doesn’t have to peer hard to know whose sweeping hand is being bunched between those pale green lines. There are more highlighted passages, but they don’t look to be the same as the last time.
So if Lex just bends to the side a bit, then the car will swerve across the line and he’ll die. Again. He'll never get to read the card then. Plus, this is a bit far out of town to be on Clark’s radar, so perhaps it’s for the best if Lex does just pull over and shift the car into neutral.
He makes sure to keep the motor running.
Same poem, different emphasis.
Lex doesn’t remember Clark ever mentioning anything about liking the way Lex speaks.
*
Valentine’s Day, proper, falls six days after Lex receives the blue index card.
In the time between, Lex polishes up on his sonnets and his plays, and everything that he’s learned about why Shakespeare was more than just a hack. Lex isn’t sure what he expects to find when he walks into his office on D-Day, but he refuses to feel disappointment over a lack of envelopes or high school boys who are probably in their first class of the day by now. So as the day progresses, Lex forgets all about Shakespeare and loves so rare, or if he doesn’t forget, at least he doesn’t make a show of remembering either.
Until he sits down at his desk at four p.m. and is confronted with a glaring yellow post-it note that has a crow in the bottom right-hand corner.
Obviously they don’t teach all the sonnets in Clark’s English class, or Clark simply has run out of material. Either way about it Lex has to read the note out loud to make sure it says what he thinks it does.
//You don't choose who you love.
You just do.//
It’s not Shakespeare; it’s not even poetry, and yet it says a lot more about life than anything Lex has dealt with in a long time. So when Lex plucks the note off his desk, grabs the keys to the car, and winds up running into Clark in the front hall, Lex finds himself going for action over thought.
And when he kisses Clark and Clark kisses him back, Lex starts to think that maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.
-finis-
Notes:
Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Re-edited the edit to note: Everwood people: a)
chickwithmonkey, plum_evil, babywitch and nefeleo are all on board the Colin/Ephram writing bus. Go and give them love. b) Everybody force rageprufrock to get with the program and write some as well. She wants to, but is in massive denial. Bad Pru.
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no subject
Date: 2003-02-11 03:57 pm (UTC)No one else would start a love story this way, except for you...and Lex.
::chuckles::
It's not a love story ::stomps foot:: It's um, okay, maybe, but I like the intro. It seems very fitting. I admit it, my cynicism is all over this, but, hey, at least Lex got the guy in the end. *g*