The Talented Miss Ripley part 16
8/21/06 12:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyOkay, so we're moving along here. We're moving pretty fast--not too fast I hope, but Lex is getting impatient. Really--Lex is the one moving this bit along, even if it doesn't seem like it.
The Talented Miss Ripley part 15
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:3
what went before
The night of the thing—the play, Ripley was nervous and jittery. Clark listened to her do her lines and assured her she was amazing. She insisted on checking Clark’s outfit, making him dress and re-dress. She sat on his bed and threw shirts him, none of them red, or blue and for god’s sake, not flannel.
“Rip, it’s not like Pop doesn’t know what I look like, and it’s not like he’s going to be watching *me*—he’s going to be watching you—we both are.”
“See,” she said, leaped off the bed and grabbed a light, fine gauge cotton sweater out of his dresser drawer ” ---here put that on—that’s what you’re not supposed to be doing. Don’t watch me—watch him.” She looked at him critically and when he went to smooth down the hair that’s been pulled every which way by the neck of the sweater, she stopped him. “Leave it, it’s not bad like that.”
He shook his head. “Right now, I actually feel sorry for Greg.”
“What?” She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t quite catch that…”
“Ha. Nothing...so, we’re taking the truck, right?”
“God, no—the driver’s coming around to get me, I have to leave a little early. You’re supposed to meet Pop at the Tower.”
“Oh.” Clark nodded. “Okay. Give me a kiss, and let me give you a hug for luck.”
She leaned her cheek into him, let him kiss her and gave him a small hug too. “Good luck to you too, Dad.” She beamed at him, and leaving him blinded with love, skipped out.
*****
After, they walked to the lot together, Lex and his indestructible family, alert and vigilant, Clark and Rip discussing the action on stage and behind stage, she clutching the bouquet of roses her Poppa had sent to her, and the single rose Greg had given her, the rose she pressed to her cheek from time to time as they walked.
Clark noticed that Lex was quiet on the way home, by the time they pulled into the garage at home, even Ripley noticed how quiet he was and glanced over at him. what’s wrong she mouthed and he just shrugged. don’t know.
They parked, and Lex locked the Benz and said, “I’ve got to go back to the office for a bit, but I’ll call you before you go to bed. You were wonderful tonight, I’m so proud of you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, and smiled a little when glitter drifted from her curls.
“But…but I thought we could get ice-cream or something awful and good for just for you—together…” Her brow wrinkled and Clark took a step towards her. This wasn’t quite how the evening was supposed to end—they should be talking about her performance, dissecting the show, laughing….
Lex sighed and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. “Sweetheart,” he began and when both Rip and Clark turned to him, his face froze. His expression was still, but his cheeks held a tinge of pink. “We eat dinner together every night. Your dad, you and me, for the last two weeks we’ve had nothing but togetherness. That should be sufficient.”
She took a step back. “But, I wanted us to--” She looked back at Clark. Do something.
“Alexandra. You know very well that I have other responsibilities. Sometimes, no matter what I choose, they take precedence over family matters. Your father and you can either go out together, or order something in. I really have to go.”
Clark stepped up, and reached out for Lex’s arm, “Lex, surely you can spare a few minutes, just a little bit, it’s a special occasion….”
“Don’t touch me, and really—don’t lecture me.”
“But Lex--”
And that was the one tiny push too far--Lex seemed to explode. Clark watched it happen like a silent film running in slow motion. The stainless steel briefcase he carried rose up, up, and impacted the windshield of the Benz, sank into it. Ripley let out a tiny scream, and Clark gasped—the world was moving again at normal speed, sound was back. The glass shattered with a hollow pop and the sound of crystal breaking, and the car alarm went crazy. Lex leaned against the car, staring at him--his eyes were frightening, so much so that Clark stepped back.
Lex took a step toward him, opened his mouth and just yelled, a frustrated, inarticulate shout of rage. He whirled around and slammed his briefcase into the side of the car, rocking it—his jacket hit the ground and he ignored it, stalked off, and he suddenly threw the case to the ground, as if he’d just realized it was in his hand. Ripley stood frozen for a moment before dashing after him.
“Rip, no!” Clark just missed holding her back, his hands closing on empty air.
She only ran as far as the briefcase, picking it up and holding it against her chest. Her eyes, he saw when she turned back to him, were wide and terrified, and swimming with tears.
He tried not to let his own hurt show, and held his arms open, she ran into them.
She leaned against him and cried. “What’s wrong with him? Why did he do that? He’s never acted like that before, never.”
Clark realized Ripley had never seen her pop’s temper. She had no idea how violent it could be. Great. He had to be the one to bring something new and crappy into her life. “My fault,” he said, as he stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, trying to still her trembling. “All my fault. I—I’m going to pack. You really don’t need me here. You’re fine. I’ll leave in the morning.”
She rubbed her face against his chest and sniffed hard. “Don’t be dumb, Daddy. If you leave now, he’ll just think you don’t care.”
Clark murmured assent, but in the morning, he’d make sure to be gone. He didn’t need to cause everyone more pain than he’d already had. He pushed him too far, upset him and Alexandra, and he didn’t want to do that to either of them.
*****
He was just coming up the path towards the park bench he considered his. He’d walked around and around, and not even the morning sun filling him had lightened his spirits. He knew damn well he’d pushed a little too much, a little too soon, even after Lex told him not to…he stopped and inhaled.
Hunh.
Lex was sitting on his bench, two coffees clutched in his hand, staring at the ground. He looked up when Clark came behind him, when he caught Clark’s eye, he slid down to make room for him to sit. He said, “We need to talk.”
Clark sank down next to him. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
Lex handed him one of the cups, and rolled the other between his palms. He began to speak. “Clark. You don’t want to be with me again, not really.”
“I do. I wouldn’t be here if--”
Lex pointed his cup at human smiled sadly. “No, you don’t, it’s biology that makes you *think* you do.”
Clark gaped. “What?”
“Clark, how often did you think of me when you were…how often do you *usually* think of me?” Lex tilted his head at him, and waited.
everyday ”I’m not sure I get what you mean?”
“I mean that for the last two weeks you’ve been living with us, every day, you…well…you smell me. And I know what that does to you, hormonally. You know what it does. It’s a biological trigger, Clark. You imprinted on me when you were pregnant, my scent sort of sealed the deal so to speak, and now that you’re around me nearly nonstop—you have no control over your feelings. It’s perfectly all right, and natural for you. I apologize for my behavior the other night. I had time to think it through, and I know, you thinking you want to be with me--it’s not your fault. You can’t resist it anymore than—you could stop needing the sun, I guess.”
“So, you’re saying instinct is screwing with me. I’m like, what—a duckling or something? A slave to my instincts?”
He nodded and shook his cup a bit before letting his hand fall again. “Yes, that’s pretty much it. Again, I don’t blame you. As soon as you’re back in your apartment, this thing will fade and you’ll be fine again.”
“Fine again…this is like a—a—virus. Something to get over.”
“Exactly. When you’re home again and the influence wears off, Alexandra will understand. It’s a good thing in a way, she needs to understand that life isn’t like fiction…” He sighed. “God. I have *so* much apologizing to do to her. That was entirely selfish of me. I should never have let my emotions rule me like that—not in front of Lexie.” He turned towards Clark, seeming to notice how quiet he was. He looked at his expression, and read it completely wrong.
“Don’t worry, I will make it up to her, Clark. I promise you, I’ve never behaved so badly…in front of her…before.”
Clark shook his head. “Lex…right now, I wonder…how can you live like this?” Clark stood. “How can you just—beat yourself up like this? God…”
He walked away, and kept walking. He walked until he was back at his apartment, and once in the door, grabbed the phone, and opened windows, lay down on his bed. He called Ripley, and told her that he was home, that he’d pick her up in the morning for breakfast. He told her how much her loved her, and how sorry her Pop was, and to be nice to him when he groveled and he’d be groveling extra hard. He warned her to let her conscience be her guide and not to take advantage of it--he smiled when she laughed. They blew kisses, and he hung up and the smile evaporated from every bit of him. He was cold, and…and cold. He called…someone. A number….
*****
He met Stewart at the door and sent him back to the living room to sit. He walked into the kitchen, checked to see if anything left in his non-state of the art average fridge was even remotely edible. Some beer…a stick of butter. Suspicious yogurt. He looked around his kitchen and thought it was rather dark and small. Maybe he should have that wall taken out, open it up to some light…he dialed Lex’s cell.
“I’m with someone now. But if you tell me to send him home, I will.”
*Are you insane? Grow up.*
Lex disconnected and Clark sighed, grabbed a bag of chips that hadn’t been opened yet and a couple of beers from the fridge.
******
Stewart was a good kisser, at least, he’d always thought of Stewart as a good kisser, but now that he was aware of it, Clark noticed--he smelled—wrong. His hand in Clark’s hair bothered him, his tongue felt—too big, or wide, or something. Clark nudged his knees apart and cupped him. It felt weird and wrong.
Stewart groaned and moved back from him. “Kent, what’s with the rush?”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Clark jumped up. “Oh hey, hey--lets get something to eat? What do you say?”
“What? You want to go out… together?” Stewart knew his place in Clark’s life—make out, order fat, dripping with everything pizza, drink really good imported beer and fuck like minks, then go home. Kent always had the best beer so… “Why?”
“Why not? Don’t you want to go out?” Clark was pulling his shirt back on as he shoved Stewart’s into his hand.
“Well, okay…” he looked confused, but buttoned his shirt back up. “Can I finish my beer?”
Clark went back to the bedroom to get his wallet, and called again. “Lex, we’re going out but if you tell me not to, Lex--”
“Jesus.” Lex hung up.
They had dinner, and throughout dinner Stewart did that foot thing, slipped his shoe off and rubbed his stocking foot over his cock, and that kind of surprised Clark because he’d always thought Stewart was a guy with no imagination and certainly not kinky like that. Or that interesting, really. Clark responded, funny smell or not. Stewart’s foot was warm and firm and Clark’s cock was aching by the time desert came.
He excused himself, went to the bathroom and called Lex again. “He wants to come home with me but if you tell me not to, I‘ll send him away.”
*What stupid game are you playing? Is this some sort of punishment for earlier, Clark?*
“No! Just tell me not to fuck him, and I won’t.” Clark leaned his head against the stall wall. The moment he heard Lex’s voice, he went soft. His head hurt, his throat hurt…
*Clark—please stop calling. What you do--that’s your choice, not mine.*
They left the restaurant, and headed to the Seasons because Clark didn’t really want Stewart back in the apartment with him. Clark reserved the room while Stewart stood by looking a little stunned and Clark realized confused was Stewarts default look—odd what a person noticed when they were possibly going insane--they went upstairs and Clark sent Stewart into the room. “Hold on one sec, man, I need to take care of something.”
He stepped out into the hallway, and called.
Again.
“Lex, what do you want. Tell me and I’ll do it.”
* Clark, you’re going insane. I have no idea what want from me, but I wish you’d stop bothering me with this—what ever the hell it is.*
Clark went into the room. They ordered porn, giggled some and Stewart blew him. Clark stopped him when he thought he’d come. “Let me fuck you.”
Stewart groaned, “Shit Kent, sounds good to me.”
“Okay, I just need to--"
“Yeah, I know—take care of something—say, are you having some kind of bizarre phone sex with someone this whole time—‘cause if you are…that’s kind of sexy….”
Clark stopped and stared at Stewart. Wow, he’d had no idea that Stewart was such a huge freak…damn. Too bad.
He left the room. “–I’m in the bathroom, tell me not to fuck him,” he said breathlessly, “please…’
Lex hung up on him, and Clark rolled the rubber down on himself, took a deep breath, and the phone rang.
“Come home.”
“Okay.”
He dropped the rubber in the trash, and told Stewart the night was finished, but he could keep the room if he wanted. Stewart picked up the remote—“Cool, Kent. Say, can I order….”
“Just don’t break me, Stewart, okay?” He gave him a kiss before leaving the room.
“Hey, Stewart called after him. “Can we do this again some time?”
The Talented Miss Ripley part 15
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:3
what went before
The night of the thing—the play, Ripley was nervous and jittery. Clark listened to her do her lines and assured her she was amazing. She insisted on checking Clark’s outfit, making him dress and re-dress. She sat on his bed and threw shirts him, none of them red, or blue and for god’s sake, not flannel.
“Rip, it’s not like Pop doesn’t know what I look like, and it’s not like he’s going to be watching *me*—he’s going to be watching you—we both are.”
“See,” she said, leaped off the bed and grabbed a light, fine gauge cotton sweater out of his dresser drawer ” ---here put that on—that’s what you’re not supposed to be doing. Don’t watch me—watch him.” She looked at him critically and when he went to smooth down the hair that’s been pulled every which way by the neck of the sweater, she stopped him. “Leave it, it’s not bad like that.”
He shook his head. “Right now, I actually feel sorry for Greg.”
“What?” She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t quite catch that…”
“Ha. Nothing...so, we’re taking the truck, right?”
“God, no—the driver’s coming around to get me, I have to leave a little early. You’re supposed to meet Pop at the Tower.”
“Oh.” Clark nodded. “Okay. Give me a kiss, and let me give you a hug for luck.”
She leaned her cheek into him, let him kiss her and gave him a small hug too. “Good luck to you too, Dad.” She beamed at him, and leaving him blinded with love, skipped out.
*****
After, they walked to the lot together, Lex and his indestructible family, alert and vigilant, Clark and Rip discussing the action on stage and behind stage, she clutching the bouquet of roses her Poppa had sent to her, and the single rose Greg had given her, the rose she pressed to her cheek from time to time as they walked.
Clark noticed that Lex was quiet on the way home, by the time they pulled into the garage at home, even Ripley noticed how quiet he was and glanced over at him. what’s wrong she mouthed and he just shrugged. don’t know.
They parked, and Lex locked the Benz and said, “I’ve got to go back to the office for a bit, but I’ll call you before you go to bed. You were wonderful tonight, I’m so proud of you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, and smiled a little when glitter drifted from her curls.
“But…but I thought we could get ice-cream or something awful and good for just for you—together…” Her brow wrinkled and Clark took a step towards her. This wasn’t quite how the evening was supposed to end—they should be talking about her performance, dissecting the show, laughing….
Lex sighed and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. “Sweetheart,” he began and when both Rip and Clark turned to him, his face froze. His expression was still, but his cheeks held a tinge of pink. “We eat dinner together every night. Your dad, you and me, for the last two weeks we’ve had nothing but togetherness. That should be sufficient.”
She took a step back. “But, I wanted us to--” She looked back at Clark. Do something.
“Alexandra. You know very well that I have other responsibilities. Sometimes, no matter what I choose, they take precedence over family matters. Your father and you can either go out together, or order something in. I really have to go.”
Clark stepped up, and reached out for Lex’s arm, “Lex, surely you can spare a few minutes, just a little bit, it’s a special occasion….”
“Don’t touch me, and really—don’t lecture me.”
“But Lex--”
And that was the one tiny push too far--Lex seemed to explode. Clark watched it happen like a silent film running in slow motion. The stainless steel briefcase he carried rose up, up, and impacted the windshield of the Benz, sank into it. Ripley let out a tiny scream, and Clark gasped—the world was moving again at normal speed, sound was back. The glass shattered with a hollow pop and the sound of crystal breaking, and the car alarm went crazy. Lex leaned against the car, staring at him--his eyes were frightening, so much so that Clark stepped back.
Lex took a step toward him, opened his mouth and just yelled, a frustrated, inarticulate shout of rage. He whirled around and slammed his briefcase into the side of the car, rocking it—his jacket hit the ground and he ignored it, stalked off, and he suddenly threw the case to the ground, as if he’d just realized it was in his hand. Ripley stood frozen for a moment before dashing after him.
“Rip, no!” Clark just missed holding her back, his hands closing on empty air.
She only ran as far as the briefcase, picking it up and holding it against her chest. Her eyes, he saw when she turned back to him, were wide and terrified, and swimming with tears.
He tried not to let his own hurt show, and held his arms open, she ran into them.
She leaned against him and cried. “What’s wrong with him? Why did he do that? He’s never acted like that before, never.”
Clark realized Ripley had never seen her pop’s temper. She had no idea how violent it could be. Great. He had to be the one to bring something new and crappy into her life. “My fault,” he said, as he stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, trying to still her trembling. “All my fault. I—I’m going to pack. You really don’t need me here. You’re fine. I’ll leave in the morning.”
She rubbed her face against his chest and sniffed hard. “Don’t be dumb, Daddy. If you leave now, he’ll just think you don’t care.”
Clark murmured assent, but in the morning, he’d make sure to be gone. He didn’t need to cause everyone more pain than he’d already had. He pushed him too far, upset him and Alexandra, and he didn’t want to do that to either of them.
*****
He was just coming up the path towards the park bench he considered his. He’d walked around and around, and not even the morning sun filling him had lightened his spirits. He knew damn well he’d pushed a little too much, a little too soon, even after Lex told him not to…he stopped and inhaled.
Hunh.
Lex was sitting on his bench, two coffees clutched in his hand, staring at the ground. He looked up when Clark came behind him, when he caught Clark’s eye, he slid down to make room for him to sit. He said, “We need to talk.”
Clark sank down next to him. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
Lex handed him one of the cups, and rolled the other between his palms. He began to speak. “Clark. You don’t want to be with me again, not really.”
“I do. I wouldn’t be here if--”
Lex pointed his cup at human smiled sadly. “No, you don’t, it’s biology that makes you *think* you do.”
Clark gaped. “What?”
“Clark, how often did you think of me when you were…how often do you *usually* think of me?” Lex tilted his head at him, and waited.
everyday ”I’m not sure I get what you mean?”
“I mean that for the last two weeks you’ve been living with us, every day, you…well…you smell me. And I know what that does to you, hormonally. You know what it does. It’s a biological trigger, Clark. You imprinted on me when you were pregnant, my scent sort of sealed the deal so to speak, and now that you’re around me nearly nonstop—you have no control over your feelings. It’s perfectly all right, and natural for you. I apologize for my behavior the other night. I had time to think it through, and I know, you thinking you want to be with me--it’s not your fault. You can’t resist it anymore than—you could stop needing the sun, I guess.”
“So, you’re saying instinct is screwing with me. I’m like, what—a duckling or something? A slave to my instincts?”
He nodded and shook his cup a bit before letting his hand fall again. “Yes, that’s pretty much it. Again, I don’t blame you. As soon as you’re back in your apartment, this thing will fade and you’ll be fine again.”
“Fine again…this is like a—a—virus. Something to get over.”
“Exactly. When you’re home again and the influence wears off, Alexandra will understand. It’s a good thing in a way, she needs to understand that life isn’t like fiction…” He sighed. “God. I have *so* much apologizing to do to her. That was entirely selfish of me. I should never have let my emotions rule me like that—not in front of Lexie.” He turned towards Clark, seeming to notice how quiet he was. He looked at his expression, and read it completely wrong.
“Don’t worry, I will make it up to her, Clark. I promise you, I’ve never behaved so badly…in front of her…before.”
Clark shook his head. “Lex…right now, I wonder…how can you live like this?” Clark stood. “How can you just—beat yourself up like this? God…”
He walked away, and kept walking. He walked until he was back at his apartment, and once in the door, grabbed the phone, and opened windows, lay down on his bed. He called Ripley, and told her that he was home, that he’d pick her up in the morning for breakfast. He told her how much her loved her, and how sorry her Pop was, and to be nice to him when he groveled and he’d be groveling extra hard. He warned her to let her conscience be her guide and not to take advantage of it--he smiled when she laughed. They blew kisses, and he hung up and the smile evaporated from every bit of him. He was cold, and…and cold. He called…someone. A number….
*****
He met Stewart at the door and sent him back to the living room to sit. He walked into the kitchen, checked to see if anything left in his non-state of the art average fridge was even remotely edible. Some beer…a stick of butter. Suspicious yogurt. He looked around his kitchen and thought it was rather dark and small. Maybe he should have that wall taken out, open it up to some light…he dialed Lex’s cell.
“I’m with someone now. But if you tell me to send him home, I will.”
*Are you insane? Grow up.*
Lex disconnected and Clark sighed, grabbed a bag of chips that hadn’t been opened yet and a couple of beers from the fridge.
******
Stewart was a good kisser, at least, he’d always thought of Stewart as a good kisser, but now that he was aware of it, Clark noticed--he smelled—wrong. His hand in Clark’s hair bothered him, his tongue felt—too big, or wide, or something. Clark nudged his knees apart and cupped him. It felt weird and wrong.
Stewart groaned and moved back from him. “Kent, what’s with the rush?”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Clark jumped up. “Oh hey, hey--lets get something to eat? What do you say?”
“What? You want to go out… together?” Stewart knew his place in Clark’s life—make out, order fat, dripping with everything pizza, drink really good imported beer and fuck like minks, then go home. Kent always had the best beer so… “Why?”
“Why not? Don’t you want to go out?” Clark was pulling his shirt back on as he shoved Stewart’s into his hand.
“Well, okay…” he looked confused, but buttoned his shirt back up. “Can I finish my beer?”
Clark went back to the bedroom to get his wallet, and called again. “Lex, we’re going out but if you tell me not to, Lex--”
“Jesus.” Lex hung up.
They had dinner, and throughout dinner Stewart did that foot thing, slipped his shoe off and rubbed his stocking foot over his cock, and that kind of surprised Clark because he’d always thought Stewart was a guy with no imagination and certainly not kinky like that. Or that interesting, really. Clark responded, funny smell or not. Stewart’s foot was warm and firm and Clark’s cock was aching by the time desert came.
He excused himself, went to the bathroom and called Lex again. “He wants to come home with me but if you tell me not to, I‘ll send him away.”
*What stupid game are you playing? Is this some sort of punishment for earlier, Clark?*
“No! Just tell me not to fuck him, and I won’t.” Clark leaned his head against the stall wall. The moment he heard Lex’s voice, he went soft. His head hurt, his throat hurt…
*Clark—please stop calling. What you do--that’s your choice, not mine.*
They left the restaurant, and headed to the Seasons because Clark didn’t really want Stewart back in the apartment with him. Clark reserved the room while Stewart stood by looking a little stunned and Clark realized confused was Stewarts default look—odd what a person noticed when they were possibly going insane--they went upstairs and Clark sent Stewart into the room. “Hold on one sec, man, I need to take care of something.”
He stepped out into the hallway, and called.
Again.
“Lex, what do you want. Tell me and I’ll do it.”
* Clark, you’re going insane. I have no idea what want from me, but I wish you’d stop bothering me with this—what ever the hell it is.*
Clark went into the room. They ordered porn, giggled some and Stewart blew him. Clark stopped him when he thought he’d come. “Let me fuck you.”
Stewart groaned, “Shit Kent, sounds good to me.”
“Okay, I just need to--"
“Yeah, I know—take care of something—say, are you having some kind of bizarre phone sex with someone this whole time—‘cause if you are…that’s kind of sexy….”
Clark stopped and stared at Stewart. Wow, he’d had no idea that Stewart was such a huge freak…damn. Too bad.
He left the room. “–I’m in the bathroom, tell me not to fuck him,” he said breathlessly, “please…’
Lex hung up on him, and Clark rolled the rubber down on himself, took a deep breath, and the phone rang.
“Come home.”
“Okay.”
He dropped the rubber in the trash, and told Stewart the night was finished, but he could keep the room if he wanted. Stewart picked up the remote—“Cool, Kent. Say, can I order….”
“Just don’t break me, Stewart, okay?” He gave him a kiss before leaving the room.
“Hey, Stewart called after him. “Can we do this again some time?”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
8/21/06 04:41 am (UTC)He shook his head. "Right now, I actually feel sorry for Greg."
"What?" She stared at him with narrowed eyes. "I didn't quite catch that..."
- I too feel bad for Greg, he doesn't realize how nuts those Kent-Luthors are.
- Not that Lex and Clark don't mint their own crazy coupons.
And that was the one tiny push too far--Lex seemed to explode. Clark watched it happen like a silent film running in slow motion. The stainless steel briefcase he carried rose up, up, and impacted the windshield of the Benz, sank into it. Ripley let out a tiny scream, and Clark gasped—the world was moving again at normal speed, sound was back. The glass shattered with a hollow pop and the sound of crystal breaking, and the car alarm went crazy. Lex leaned against the car, staring at him--his eyes were frightening, so much so that Clark stepped back.
- Well you know that Lex had his own freak out coming really. He's shown remarkable restraint. At least he didn't have golf clubs...
Lex hung up on him, and Clark rolled the rubber down on himself, took a deep breath, and the phone rang.
"Come home."
"Okay."
- Urrrm, Clark is a slutty menace and again the fact that Lex didn't go after Clark's head with that steel briefcase of his shows a remarkable strength of character.
- So much for wooing, huh Clark? That wasn't really the soft touch I was expecting - but really when have Lex and Clark ever been soft touches, yeesh.
You are right this is speeding up terribly - that's kinda cool.
WOOOOOOOO, I'm Number 1!
8/21/06 04:43 am (UTC)How was your birthday - did you get good swag?
Re: WOOOOOOOO, I'm Number 1!
8/21/06 04:53 am (UTC)OOOh, my birthday was terrific! I got season 5 of Angel, and a Batman notebook, (to keep track of those slashbunnies), bookstore certificates *dances* and two CD's I've been dying to get!
YaY for me!
(no subject)
8/21/06 04:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 05:13 am (UTC)Ok, I totally didn't expect Lex to freak out... especially in front of Rip. WOW! And the cell phone calls... sheesh, Lex just didn't want to admit that he was wrong about Clark.
(no subject)
8/21/06 06:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 05:18 am (UTC)They need to kiss and fu...do other things to bring them back together.
It's madness.
(no subject)
8/21/06 06:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 05:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 06:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 06:19 am (UTC)I LOVED Lex's hissy fit, very appropriate!
*nods*
(no subject)
8/21/06 06:57 am (UTC)God, I love that icon!
(no subject)
8/21/06 11:32 am (UTC):D
(no subject)
8/21/06 06:54 am (UTC)Poor Rip! That freak out was completely believable for Lex! And just what he needed, I think.
That whole last bit with Clark and Stewart and taking care of things was a hoot! *ggg*
(no subject)
8/21/06 06:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 10:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 03:39 pm (UTC)*innocent*
(no subject)
8/21/06 01:06 pm (UTC)And very *very* glad that Lex told Clark to come home
(no subject)
8/21/06 03:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 08:50 pm (UTC);D
(no subject)
8/21/06 01:31 pm (UTC)My gods, you just get *more evol*.
:)
*bounce*
I hope Ripley makes Lex's life a living hell for being such a bitch.
Wheeeeee!
(no subject)
8/21/06 03:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 01:50 pm (UTC)And Clark...OMG! Too damn funny. Each move he made with Stewart, he called Lex. He wanted to give Lex chance after chance to stop Clark's sexual insanity and come home. When Lex finally caved and told him to come home, I was ecstatic!
What fun this ride it. Merry-go-round Central at the Kent-Luthors!
:)
(no subject)
8/21/06 03:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 01:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 03:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/21/06 03:44 pm (UTC)*So* *good*!!! I love love love this part, I love Lex's break down and Clark's reaction and the guy and the calling and the "Come home" and. Yeah. Yes, very very yes.
(no subject)
8/21/06 04:02 pm (UTC)*dances with you all excited! Good, I'm so glad! This was an iffy part--I'm so glad it worked!
(no subject)
8/22/06 03:12 am (UTC)Good to see Lex totally lose his temper on occasion and interesting that it's all because he thinks Clark doesn't really want him. :) We know differently...
(no subject)
8/22/06 06:22 am (UTC)Totally! But it did the trick!
As for the tantrum, it's canon, right--and so much fun!
(no subject)
8/24/06 08:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/25/06 01:25 am (UTC)I had a good time, I'm glad you did too!
(no subject)
8/27/06 09:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/27/06 04:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/3/06 02:04 am (UTC)Thank goodness Clark held Lexie back, and let Lex cool off alone.
I love that Clark has forgiven Lex for Lana, but Lex is still beating himself up. Makes me wonder just why he's doing that - Because he killed Lana? Or because Clark left? Or both?
And Yay for Clark calling him on it -- and literally calling him with every step of that crazy-ass date.
I was SO relieved Lex told him to come home.
*Beams*
(no subject)
9/3/06 03:35 am (UTC)*is happy you're happy*