The Talented Miss Ripley part 11
8/7/06 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThe Talented Miss Ripley
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: hmm….
Rating:5/nc-17
what went before
Clark arrived at the penthouse at a ridiculously early hour, even after spending an awfully long time in the truck, trying to get his hair to look a less like an animal trying to break for freedom.
He may have sniffed his pits.
He’d checked his teeth, and smiled at himself and then, groaned. He looked like a psychotic snaggled toothed bulldog....
He sighed.
And now, he was standing at the door, nervous, afraid to knock. But not because he was afraid of Lex. Or what he’d say. Or how he’d act. It was nuts to think that after all these years, and so much *not* between them, that Lex would have anything to say about—anything concerning him. They were just friends, and the parents of a hell of a kid…and at least Lex couldn’t accuse him of being late. Clark frowned. That just meant he’d find something else to breathe at. Oh, Lex never *said* anything to him, not like he used to when they were...together. He just looked at him and…breathed. He had a way....
Rip just rolled her eyes whenever he tried to explain how--how--intimidating it was. She just didn’t understand. Dad didn’t understand--not even Mom understood. They’d never been on the receiving end of it…he shuddered. Horrible….
He glanced down at what he was wearing. Jeans, a flannel shirt, (he didn’t care what Rip said about flannel) over a fairly new tee-shirt. Is this tee too small? It was--Rip was going to have a fit. The tee-shirt was too tight, and crap—there was a hole in the chest--note to self—don’t for god’s sake call her Ripley…Lexie, Lexie, Lexie….he hurriedly button the shirt, and knocked tentatively, maybe too softly and was about to knock again when the door opened, and Lex was standing there, staring at his raised fist.
“…Good morning, Clark,” he smiled; a small smile that was on it’s way to being a smirk. Clark smiled back, mentally kicking the small part of himself that had been looking forward to seeing Lex sleep rumpled but no—Lex was crisp and fresh and bright eyed.
“Come in, Alexandra’s still asleep.” He said, in a tone most people would have used to say she was up kicking puppies. “She’ll be up soon.” Lex wrinkled his nose an infinitesimal bit as his eyes traveled over the tee-shirt. They stopped at the hole in the hem. He took a breath, looked at Clark, and released it. damn it!
“Coffee?”
Clark blushed, so deeply, he could feel it burning from his neck to his hairline. “No. Yes. No. Yes. Um, thank you, yes.” He felt like an enormous fool, and headed to the kitchen, still blushing helplessly. Lex watched him walk by, and cocked a pale eyebrow at him. Clark could feel it on his back, all the way.
The kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and Clark sank down gratefully on a barstool at the high counter flanking the stove. Lex sat at the opposite end, and asked him, “Where are your bags?”
“Oh—ah—still in the truck.” How the hell had he forgotten his bags? Too busy messing with his hair, that’s why. Idiot.
“Your shirt’s buttoned wrong…” Lex made a circley motion at his chest and Clark felt ten times more a fool. Lex rubbed his lip. “Your latest couldn’t tell you it was wrong?”
“My—I don’t *have* a latest, thank you,” he said primly. as of last night, anyway, and Lex didn’t need to know that. Clark rolled his eyes at himself. He was talking to *Lex*, for heavens sake—odds were, he probably already knew.
Lex smiled at him. “Ready for coffee?”
“Oh, thanks.” He watched Lex pour him a cup of coffee, and when he set it down in front of Clark, his fingers slid over the rim, so quickly he might have imagined it. Clark stared at the cup, at the rim, and licked his lips. When he reached out for the cup, and looked up again, Lex was at the other end of the counter, behind the Metropolis Morning Bulletin. Of course.
“Lex…I brought my book—my work-- with me. Do you mind?”
The paper rustled and from behind it came, “Not at all. We can turn one of the spare bedrooms into a studio for you. And…Carl? Whoever it is working with you.”
“Calvin, actually, and thanks.” He didn’t ask if it would put Lex out to do so. He wouldn’t have offered if it would. Lex never said anything he didn’t mean, Clark thought. That was why he was so popular a senator, that’s why he’d be mayor of the city before long…Clark blinked.
It was no longer his business, he thought. Personally, or professionally, neither of them, for a long time. When he still worked on the paper, it might have been--Lois tried her best to discredit Lex, she'd picked at and examined every aspect of his life she could. What she revealed was that Lex was a model citizen, no matter how she'd poked and scratched and really wanted there to be something slimy under the surface.
Clark smiled. Not that that meant anything except that Lex was extremely good at what he did…he coughed, hard. Jesus. He was not going to have a fond moment over...things in the past. He gulped coffee and shook his head when Lex around the paper inquiringly. Ventured a smile. Felt absurdly pleased when Lex smiled back, and really wanted to see another of those smiles directed at him… “Gee! What’s to eat?”
Lex looked at him, looked at the table and said, “I beg your pardon?”
Clark took in the little pot of jam, the butter, the plate of flaky croissants and asked in a pleading tone, “Is there… real food?”
Lex smiled for a fleeting instant and then fixed him with a steely gray gaze. “Food, Clark?” But Clark could see at the warmth at the bottom of that icy gaze.
“No really, Lex, I’m starving.” And whining. What was it about Lex that turned him into that eighteen year old again? He was nearly thirty and yet…if he was with him for longer than fifteen minutes, he regressed.
Lex sighed the sigh of the long-suffering and folded his paper neatly. “All right, I can see I’m not going to be able to read my paper in peace. Let me see…” He rummaged about in the glass doored fridge, took out a cardboard container of blueberries, and milk, and butter, sent Clark to get flour and baking powder from the pantry.
“Wow, so you can cook,” Clark marveled as he loomed over Lex, watching him add a bit of sugar and vanilla to a bowl of egg yolks.
“Your mother kindly taught me how to make pancakes, just the way Alexandra likes them. It was a matter of self-preservation,” he muttered, as he measured. “Your daughter can be…slightly demanding.”
He began sifting flour, pointed Clark towards the eggs. “Whisk—but not too much.”
“Lex,” he whined. “One time—and the egg wash was your fault!” He referred to another time he’d been pressed into service-- he’d been whisking eggs, completely absorbed, and Lex had snuck up on him, skimmed down his sweats and bit him on the butt. Okay, he’d known Lex was sneaking up on him, but what made liquid egg form a thin film over nearly everything in the kitchen had been the totally unexpected rimming….
He blushed and felt himself twitch and he could see the back of Lex’s neck turn pink. “Oh, I’m sorry…” Was that too intimate a memory to make a joke of? Did he have a right to….
“Don’t be,” Lex smiled. He held out a packet of bacon to Clark. “You get to do breakfast meats. Lexie’s favorite.”
Clark made a face. “Ri—Alexandra likes turkey bacon?” Since when, Clark thought, remembering mile high BLTs they made with loads of pork and mayo, slices of tomato so thin as to be clear, and the incidental shred of greenery—for color, they agreed.
“Yes.” Lex replied emphatically. “And fresh vegetables, and….”
Clark widened his eyes, “Oh, of course,” he said, and nodded. “Oh, yes, she does like that,” he agreed to everything Lex said, and thought to himself, if he was staying longer than a weekend—he needed to shop for real food.
Ripley woke not long after the pancakes were done, no doubt lured to the world of the alert by the promise of food. She ran into the kitchen and jumped into Clark’ lap and threw her arm around him. Also, she stole most of his pancakes but assured him it was out of love.
“Lucky me,” Clark said, less than convinced love had anything to do with it.
The morning passed quickly, Clark took Ripley to school, moved his bags from the truck to the small bedroom that he remembered being a nursery in another life. He stood in the doorway, and looked all around. He could still see the faint shadows of Tigger and Pooh under the coats of sea-foam green paint. He sat on the bed and felt a little lost.
Lex appeared in the doorway. “Clark, why don’t we set this up as your study? I think the bedroom I have in mind will be more comfortable for you.”
“Sure, Clark squeaked and moaned to himself. No way did Lex mean that the way it sounded, and besides that wasn’t what either one of them wanted, anyway.
He followed Lex, and was led to the bedroom directly across from Rip’s—and next to his.
“Oh, yeah, this is a bigger room, yeah it’s nice and the window, yeah, the old nursery didn’t have windows, hah—that was my fault right? Remember, I was afraid she’d fall out the window? Ha-she couldn’t even walk…” his torrent of words wound down as he realized Lex was waiting patiently for him to stop. “Why do I feel like an idiot every time I’m around you?” Fuck—he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Lex looked totally surprised. “You do? Why? I mean…I have meeting to go to, and a lot of things…to catch up on. I’ll call you—oh! Toby and Dr. Chang are waiting to talk to you tonight. They want to participate in the ‘lessons’, but only if it’s okay with you?”
“Oh, sure, that’s fine. I’ll have to call Calvin and let him know we’ll be working here now—are you sure that’s okay?”
“I’m positive. Oh—you mean Calvin? Well, that’s old news, isn’t it? You know…you might try just shaking someone’s hand when you meet, instead of…”
Clark burned red and rolled his eyes, “Lex! It’s not like that.”
Lex snorted.
“Well, maybe a little…but that’s been a long time ago too, you know. I’ve changed.” as of yesterday, and if I cross my fingers he’ll see.
Lex laughed lightly and turned away. “I’ll be home late—I have an appointment. Lexie knows what to do on my late nights—she’ll take care of you.”
tbc!!
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: hmm….
Rating:5/nc-17
what went before
Clark arrived at the penthouse at a ridiculously early hour, even after spending an awfully long time in the truck, trying to get his hair to look a less like an animal trying to break for freedom.
He may have sniffed his pits.
He’d checked his teeth, and smiled at himself and then, groaned. He looked like a psychotic snaggled toothed bulldog....
He sighed.
And now, he was standing at the door, nervous, afraid to knock. But not because he was afraid of Lex. Or what he’d say. Or how he’d act. It was nuts to think that after all these years, and so much *not* between them, that Lex would have anything to say about—anything concerning him. They were just friends, and the parents of a hell of a kid…and at least Lex couldn’t accuse him of being late. Clark frowned. That just meant he’d find something else to breathe at. Oh, Lex never *said* anything to him, not like he used to when they were...together. He just looked at him and…breathed. He had a way....
Rip just rolled her eyes whenever he tried to explain how--how--intimidating it was. She just didn’t understand. Dad didn’t understand--not even Mom understood. They’d never been on the receiving end of it…he shuddered. Horrible….
He glanced down at what he was wearing. Jeans, a flannel shirt, (he didn’t care what Rip said about flannel) over a fairly new tee-shirt. Is this tee too small? It was--Rip was going to have a fit. The tee-shirt was too tight, and crap—there was a hole in the chest--note to self—don’t for god’s sake call her Ripley…Lexie, Lexie, Lexie….he hurriedly button the shirt, and knocked tentatively, maybe too softly and was about to knock again when the door opened, and Lex was standing there, staring at his raised fist.
“…Good morning, Clark,” he smiled; a small smile that was on it’s way to being a smirk. Clark smiled back, mentally kicking the small part of himself that had been looking forward to seeing Lex sleep rumpled but no—Lex was crisp and fresh and bright eyed.
“Come in, Alexandra’s still asleep.” He said, in a tone most people would have used to say she was up kicking puppies. “She’ll be up soon.” Lex wrinkled his nose an infinitesimal bit as his eyes traveled over the tee-shirt. They stopped at the hole in the hem. He took a breath, looked at Clark, and released it. damn it!
“Coffee?”
Clark blushed, so deeply, he could feel it burning from his neck to his hairline. “No. Yes. No. Yes. Um, thank you, yes.” He felt like an enormous fool, and headed to the kitchen, still blushing helplessly. Lex watched him walk by, and cocked a pale eyebrow at him. Clark could feel it on his back, all the way.
The kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and Clark sank down gratefully on a barstool at the high counter flanking the stove. Lex sat at the opposite end, and asked him, “Where are your bags?”
“Oh—ah—still in the truck.” How the hell had he forgotten his bags? Too busy messing with his hair, that’s why. Idiot.
“Your shirt’s buttoned wrong…” Lex made a circley motion at his chest and Clark felt ten times more a fool. Lex rubbed his lip. “Your latest couldn’t tell you it was wrong?”
“My—I don’t *have* a latest, thank you,” he said primly. as of last night, anyway, and Lex didn’t need to know that. Clark rolled his eyes at himself. He was talking to *Lex*, for heavens sake—odds were, he probably already knew.
Lex smiled at him. “Ready for coffee?”
“Oh, thanks.” He watched Lex pour him a cup of coffee, and when he set it down in front of Clark, his fingers slid over the rim, so quickly he might have imagined it. Clark stared at the cup, at the rim, and licked his lips. When he reached out for the cup, and looked up again, Lex was at the other end of the counter, behind the Metropolis Morning Bulletin. Of course.
“Lex…I brought my book—my work-- with me. Do you mind?”
The paper rustled and from behind it came, “Not at all. We can turn one of the spare bedrooms into a studio for you. And…Carl? Whoever it is working with you.”
“Calvin, actually, and thanks.” He didn’t ask if it would put Lex out to do so. He wouldn’t have offered if it would. Lex never said anything he didn’t mean, Clark thought. That was why he was so popular a senator, that’s why he’d be mayor of the city before long…Clark blinked.
It was no longer his business, he thought. Personally, or professionally, neither of them, for a long time. When he still worked on the paper, it might have been--Lois tried her best to discredit Lex, she'd picked at and examined every aspect of his life she could. What she revealed was that Lex was a model citizen, no matter how she'd poked and scratched and really wanted there to be something slimy under the surface.
Clark smiled. Not that that meant anything except that Lex was extremely good at what he did…he coughed, hard. Jesus. He was not going to have a fond moment over...things in the past. He gulped coffee and shook his head when Lex around the paper inquiringly. Ventured a smile. Felt absurdly pleased when Lex smiled back, and really wanted to see another of those smiles directed at him… “Gee! What’s to eat?”
Lex looked at him, looked at the table and said, “I beg your pardon?”
Clark took in the little pot of jam, the butter, the plate of flaky croissants and asked in a pleading tone, “Is there… real food?”
Lex smiled for a fleeting instant and then fixed him with a steely gray gaze. “Food, Clark?” But Clark could see at the warmth at the bottom of that icy gaze.
“No really, Lex, I’m starving.” And whining. What was it about Lex that turned him into that eighteen year old again? He was nearly thirty and yet…if he was with him for longer than fifteen minutes, he regressed.
Lex sighed the sigh of the long-suffering and folded his paper neatly. “All right, I can see I’m not going to be able to read my paper in peace. Let me see…” He rummaged about in the glass doored fridge, took out a cardboard container of blueberries, and milk, and butter, sent Clark to get flour and baking powder from the pantry.
“Wow, so you can cook,” Clark marveled as he loomed over Lex, watching him add a bit of sugar and vanilla to a bowl of egg yolks.
“Your mother kindly taught me how to make pancakes, just the way Alexandra likes them. It was a matter of self-preservation,” he muttered, as he measured. “Your daughter can be…slightly demanding.”
He began sifting flour, pointed Clark towards the eggs. “Whisk—but not too much.”
“Lex,” he whined. “One time—and the egg wash was your fault!” He referred to another time he’d been pressed into service-- he’d been whisking eggs, completely absorbed, and Lex had snuck up on him, skimmed down his sweats and bit him on the butt. Okay, he’d known Lex was sneaking up on him, but what made liquid egg form a thin film over nearly everything in the kitchen had been the totally unexpected rimming….
He blushed and felt himself twitch and he could see the back of Lex’s neck turn pink. “Oh, I’m sorry…” Was that too intimate a memory to make a joke of? Did he have a right to….
“Don’t be,” Lex smiled. He held out a packet of bacon to Clark. “You get to do breakfast meats. Lexie’s favorite.”
Clark made a face. “Ri—Alexandra likes turkey bacon?” Since when, Clark thought, remembering mile high BLTs they made with loads of pork and mayo, slices of tomato so thin as to be clear, and the incidental shred of greenery—for color, they agreed.
“Yes.” Lex replied emphatically. “And fresh vegetables, and….”
Clark widened his eyes, “Oh, of course,” he said, and nodded. “Oh, yes, she does like that,” he agreed to everything Lex said, and thought to himself, if he was staying longer than a weekend—he needed to shop for real food.
Ripley woke not long after the pancakes were done, no doubt lured to the world of the alert by the promise of food. She ran into the kitchen and jumped into Clark’ lap and threw her arm around him. Also, she stole most of his pancakes but assured him it was out of love.
“Lucky me,” Clark said, less than convinced love had anything to do with it.
The morning passed quickly, Clark took Ripley to school, moved his bags from the truck to the small bedroom that he remembered being a nursery in another life. He stood in the doorway, and looked all around. He could still see the faint shadows of Tigger and Pooh under the coats of sea-foam green paint. He sat on the bed and felt a little lost.
Lex appeared in the doorway. “Clark, why don’t we set this up as your study? I think the bedroom I have in mind will be more comfortable for you.”
“Sure, Clark squeaked and moaned to himself. No way did Lex mean that the way it sounded, and besides that wasn’t what either one of them wanted, anyway.
He followed Lex, and was led to the bedroom directly across from Rip’s—and next to his.
“Oh, yeah, this is a bigger room, yeah it’s nice and the window, yeah, the old nursery didn’t have windows, hah—that was my fault right? Remember, I was afraid she’d fall out the window? Ha-she couldn’t even walk…” his torrent of words wound down as he realized Lex was waiting patiently for him to stop. “Why do I feel like an idiot every time I’m around you?” Fuck—he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Lex looked totally surprised. “You do? Why? I mean…I have meeting to go to, and a lot of things…to catch up on. I’ll call you—oh! Toby and Dr. Chang are waiting to talk to you tonight. They want to participate in the ‘lessons’, but only if it’s okay with you?”
“Oh, sure, that’s fine. I’ll have to call Calvin and let him know we’ll be working here now—are you sure that’s okay?”
“I’m positive. Oh—you mean Calvin? Well, that’s old news, isn’t it? You know…you might try just shaking someone’s hand when you meet, instead of…”
Clark burned red and rolled his eyes, “Lex! It’s not like that.”
Lex snorted.
“Well, maybe a little…but that’s been a long time ago too, you know. I’ve changed.” as of yesterday, and if I cross my fingers he’ll see.
Lex laughed lightly and turned away. “I’ll be home late—I have an appointment. Lexie knows what to do on my late nights—she’ll take care of you.”
tbc!!
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
8/8/06 05:29 am (UTC)And Lex is so controlled Clark can't tell that he's as lust-driven as Clark is. The hole in the T-shirt! *snicker* Lex needed to calm down a bit there!
Great story! Great chapter!
(no subject)
8/8/06 03:34 pm (UTC)Lex needed to calm down a bit there!
LOL! oh, yeah...*G*