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sv fic post: East of the Sun part 6
Title: East of the Sun
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:G
Word Count:
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!
Smallville
The kids were walking home from school. They were a little louder, a little more animated than usual. Summer break was right around the corner, and most of them couldn’t wait to be done with it for a few months.
They trailed more or less in single and double file along the gravel run off of the road bed, pretty much keeping to the school pecking order, which meant the most popular were in the lead and the less so behind. Clark took the last position, but not because he was unpopular—he sighed. He'd have to be noticed to be unpopular. He was Mr. Nobody until they needed someone who could hold a tune, or hang a sign without using a ladder…
Clark watched Lana from his distance, watching what she did, who she talked to. Clark always watched her, had since they were kids. All this time, and she was still a mystery to him, a very beautiful mystery. What did she think of, what did she want from life, what did she love? It was important to him, what she cared about. He'd have elaborate fantasies in which he found out what her heart's desire was—which was mostly him, in some way or form. It all tended to be vague, nebulous…he sighed heavily. Making love to Lana was going to stay a dream at this rate.
The group slowed, and wandered a bit as some of them scrambled down the side of the road to pick berries, polishing as much dust off as they could before popping them into their mouths—mostly it was the boys chowing down. The girls filled handkerchiefs of berries to take home and wash. Clark shook his head. That was a waste. Berries picked at the height of the afternoon sun were warm and especially juicy, delicious. Clark noted where they were having the most success—he might bring Hannah out with him later and pick some. If he got enough, Mom might make a cobbler….
He grabbed a handful of gravel from the road's runoff, and flicked stones into the fields as they walked along. The smell of honeysuckle and crushed blackberries hung heavy in the air, riding on the dry smell of dust. He took a sniff, and thought hard, pushing what little he could access of his powers to the limits. He sniffed for the smell of rain, but it wasn't there, just dry and …heat. His concentration centered on Lana as she walked prettily along the road, moving gracefully as a dancer. He sighed. She moved like…like music. A song flitted through his head, watching her walk…
my love must be a kind of blind love…I can't see anyone but you....
The top buttons of her blouse were undone for the heat, and there were little patches of wet at her arm pits she'd probably be embarrassed to know were there and it might be crazy but the look of her slightly wilted in the heat somehow made him feel…tighter in…places. Sweat beaded at her hairline, and she patted it away with a cotton handkerchief. She tilted her head back a bit, arched her neck and patted away drops and Clark felt…heavy, hot…tight. He raised his arm and wiped away sweat on his own forehead, took off his tie jammed it in a pants pocket and eased the tails of his shirt out ever so casually.
Heat shimmers danced on the road, and the dry, clear air sent the voices of Lana and her friends back to him without him trying to hear.
"—and then, she called on Alice, and Alice hadn’t done the reading poor thing—"
Lana's voice came to him full of disapproval—"You mustn't laugh, Alice is having a hard time. Her mother's sick—"
"The Gold Diggers at the Talon? It's awfully good—"
"—new soda jerk is so cute—but not cuter than your Whitney—"
Clark grimaced. Whitney was the new boy in school; his father owned the new store on Main, the one his mom had been skeptical about. He was good-looking, or so all the girls seemed to think, falling all over their feet after him, going on about how dreamy he was and how great he and Lana went together. In the few months he'd lived in town, he'd managed to do what Clark hoped for years to do—he caught the town's prettiest girl. *And* he was captain of the football team, *and* he was a star on the basketball team, heck—the baseball team too-- he was tall, blond, and blue-eyed, and yes, he was movie star handsome. Clark hated him viciously for just a bit. He stumbled, stopped and rubbed hard at his eyes—his vision was blurry, and it took a moment for it to ease and by the time it did, he was cool again and embarrassed that he'd gotten so mad.
A familiar sound behind him made him slow. He smelled gasoline, and heard that the truck coming up behind them needed to be tuned… driving up the road towards them was Whitney, in his shiny red truck, almost brand new--the kind of thing Clark's family would probably never have. Well, Whitney might be rich, but Dad and he knew how to keep that nice truck running like it should, something *Whitney* obviously didn't.
Whitney passed slowly, and tossed Clark a wave as he drove past. Clark tried not to frown, and waved back politely like he was taught to. Whitney didn’t have to wave—he had to know Clark had it bad for his girl, everyone did. He always treated him pretty decent…Clark wasn't sure he'd be that way if their situations were reversed. Didn't make him like him any much more…
When the truck pulled up to Lana's little group of girlfriends, they squealed and laughed, red-faced with heat and giggling, they dared each other to be the first to climb into the back. Clark watched the love of his life laugh and smile, and sighed. He'd had that smile directed at him on rare occasions, and each time it'd felt like he was suddenly on fire.
As they drove away, she looked up the road, and caught his eye—she waved at him, and as the truck sped up, the little bow tying her hair back began flapping wildly—she laughed and grabbed it to keep it from blowing away and he was forgotten…
Clark was in a trance, overpowered by the smile, the wave--oh, she was absolutely beautiful, the kind of beauty that was more than the grace of youth. Her beauty was on the inside as well as out—it was classic, timeless. She'd never fade, never change—she'd be beautiful in one way or another forever.
The truck roared away and waves of dust flowed toward him. Great. He licked his lips; grit sticking to them made it an unpleasant experience. He wondered, what was it like to be rich like Whitney; he was so in control, handsome and popular. Clark shook his head. It had to be good; it had to be really good.
@@@@@@@
"… Let the rain pitter patter
But it really doesn't matter
If the skies are gray
Long as I can be with you it's a lovely day!"*
…the last notes of the uneven duet died away and they burst into laughter. Clark was just clearing away the last of his homework from the kitchen table, and his mother was just putting bread under a towel and setting it on the shelf over the stove to rise. Clark figured now was a good time to try and take advantage of Mom's good mood. "Mom, Hannah's birthday is coming up."
"Really Clark? Thank you, I had no idea."
"Har-de-har, Mom, you're a regular Jack Benny, you are."
She snickered, and dropped a bowl of potatoes in front of him. "Work and talk."
He sighed, and started peeling. "Anyway, for her birthday, I want to take her to the movies. She wants to see that Gold Diggers movie."
"Oh, Clark, I don't think that's exactly the kind of movie a little girl should see. I mean, there are girls in tiny costumes, and rough language…"
"Mom. The language isn't anywhere near as rough as Dad's when he's working on the trucks, and so what if the girls wear tiny costumes? Hannah's a girl too. Besides, she's smart enough to tell the difference between what's real and what's a load of soap. She likes the music and the dancing and so do I." He looked at her, trying not to look defiant, just trying to impress on her how serious he was.
His mom was looking at him in an odd way; a look he couldn't put a name to because he'd never seen it before…sort of concerned…and maybe embarrassed…"Mom?" The minute the word left his mouth, he knew he should have kept it zipped, because Mom took it as an invitation to charge ahead—and Clark knew this was not a conversation he wanted to have.
"Clark…you do like girls, right?"
"Mom!"
"I'm not trying to pry! Not too much anyway…" She stopped and flushed a bright red and seemed to be looking for a way to go on. "Son. I guess the easiest way I can put it is like this…the Lord made the animals, each with a mate…um…pairs. Um." She looked down at the floor, than back up. "Clark." She looked at him helplessly, and Clark understood.
"Oh. Oh." He knew the story of his discovery; he'd known as far back as he could remember. From the moment he could understand that he was different, when it became obvious he was, Mom and Dad explained as best they could how he came to be. After last year when he'd seen it in the root cellar, he knew that his cradle wasn't made of maple, like Hannah's, it was made of stuff from the stars. And Mom was worried—she wasn't the only one. Maybe since he was some kind of Flash Gordon thing that fell out of the sky, since he wasn't meant to be here, maybe there was no one, no soul-mate some where out there waiting for him. Or living up the street…
"There…there is a girl. Will be…some day, I hope. You know Lana. I care for her lots. She makes me—" he coughed. Geez, he almost told her just exactly how she made him feel. "She makes me smile. She makes me happy. I feel that…we're meant to be..." she just doesn’t know I exist.
His mom came to the table and kissed him right between the eyes and he grinned. "I'm glad. And I think—I'm just being silly. And speaking of something else that makes you happy, when do we get to meet your friend?"
Clark stopped peeling and looked at his mom in confusion. "Friend?"
"Yes, Whitney. We keep hearing about this great guy, how 'cool' he is," she smiled, and Clark tried not to snicker at her use of slang.
Whitney? Clark tried to remember the times he'd talked about him—he hadn't realized he'd talked about him at all.
Before he could answer Mom glanced up at the rooster shaped clock over the oven. "Hannah should be home from her Brownie troop meeting any minute now. Will you go to the gate to meet her?"
Clark nodded, and as he pushed away from the table, his mom reached out and laid her hand over his. He looked down and thought, so soft, so…tiny. Hunh.
"Clark, one other thing…I know that the Lord has infinite patience, and infinite love. I can't believe that He'd not make someone for everyone, no matter what."
Clark smiled a little. "I know Mom." He had to believe that with all his heart.
"I don’t think He'd make you full of the will to love, and not provide a love for you. When you meet that special someone, whether it's Lana or another girl, I'm certain—it *will* have been meant to be. Sort of…written in the stars." She smiled at him, her eyes bright in that way that told him that she just might be ready to shed a tear. time to scram. He couldn't see his mom cry. He drew his hand carefully out from under hers.
"Unh-hunh," he replied and high-tailed it out the kitchen. Mom cared a lot about him, he knew that. So he wasn't going to worry for one second that Mom was thinking about his possible love life. He did enough of that on his own.
That train of thought was thankfully derailed when Hannah came flying up, ringing the bell on her bike and whooping wildly. Monkey, their big part shepard, part mutt, tore out of the gate behind Clark to catch up with her, barking and running so close to her wheels that Clark worried but they both made it up the drive in one piece.
"Clark, Clark—we had such fun today! We had the best time!"
"I'm so glad—ready for more good news?"
She nodded briskly, her red pigtails dancing crazily, her blue eyes round as dollars.
"Guess who's going to see a grown-up movie tomorrow?"
She hopped up and down impatiently. "Who—what—oh my! I'm going to see the Gold Diggers! Oh Clark!"
"Happy birthday, Hannah."
She threw her arms around him and crowed, "You're the best big brother there ever was! I'm so excited—let's go pick out what you're going to wear."
Clark swung her up into the air easily, and settled her on his shoulders. She clapped a hand on her beanie to keep it from flying off and laughed.
"I can dress my self, I'm a big boy." he said in mock anger.
"Hunh," she said, and kicked his ribs like he was a pony. "You're a big boy with no taste. I wouldn’t steer you wrong Clark. A woman knows these things."
He fought hard not to laugh, and she patted him on his head. "I'll always take care of you Clark."
"Thank you, Banana. You don't know what that means to me."
"Don't step on Monkey," she said.
Songs in this section
I Only Have Eyes For You by Harry Warren and Al Dubin
Isn't It A Lovely Day by Irving Berlin
part 7
TBC
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:G
Word Count:
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!Smallville
The kids were walking home from school. They were a little louder, a little more animated than usual. Summer break was right around the corner, and most of them couldn’t wait to be done with it for a few months.
They trailed more or less in single and double file along the gravel run off of the road bed, pretty much keeping to the school pecking order, which meant the most popular were in the lead and the less so behind. Clark took the last position, but not because he was unpopular—he sighed. He'd have to be noticed to be unpopular. He was Mr. Nobody until they needed someone who could hold a tune, or hang a sign without using a ladder…
Clark watched Lana from his distance, watching what she did, who she talked to. Clark always watched her, had since they were kids. All this time, and she was still a mystery to him, a very beautiful mystery. What did she think of, what did she want from life, what did she love? It was important to him, what she cared about. He'd have elaborate fantasies in which he found out what her heart's desire was—which was mostly him, in some way or form. It all tended to be vague, nebulous…he sighed heavily. Making love to Lana was going to stay a dream at this rate.
The group slowed, and wandered a bit as some of them scrambled down the side of the road to pick berries, polishing as much dust off as they could before popping them into their mouths—mostly it was the boys chowing down. The girls filled handkerchiefs of berries to take home and wash. Clark shook his head. That was a waste. Berries picked at the height of the afternoon sun were warm and especially juicy, delicious. Clark noted where they were having the most success—he might bring Hannah out with him later and pick some. If he got enough, Mom might make a cobbler….
He grabbed a handful of gravel from the road's runoff, and flicked stones into the fields as they walked along. The smell of honeysuckle and crushed blackberries hung heavy in the air, riding on the dry smell of dust. He took a sniff, and thought hard, pushing what little he could access of his powers to the limits. He sniffed for the smell of rain, but it wasn't there, just dry and …heat. His concentration centered on Lana as she walked prettily along the road, moving gracefully as a dancer. He sighed. She moved like…like music. A song flitted through his head, watching her walk…
my love must be a kind of blind love…I can't see anyone but you....
The top buttons of her blouse were undone for the heat, and there were little patches of wet at her arm pits she'd probably be embarrassed to know were there and it might be crazy but the look of her slightly wilted in the heat somehow made him feel…tighter in…places. Sweat beaded at her hairline, and she patted it away with a cotton handkerchief. She tilted her head back a bit, arched her neck and patted away drops and Clark felt…heavy, hot…tight. He raised his arm and wiped away sweat on his own forehead, took off his tie jammed it in a pants pocket and eased the tails of his shirt out ever so casually.
Heat shimmers danced on the road, and the dry, clear air sent the voices of Lana and her friends back to him without him trying to hear.
"—and then, she called on Alice, and Alice hadn’t done the reading poor thing—"
Lana's voice came to him full of disapproval—"You mustn't laugh, Alice is having a hard time. Her mother's sick—"
"The Gold Diggers at the Talon? It's awfully good—"
"—new soda jerk is so cute—but not cuter than your Whitney—"
Clark grimaced. Whitney was the new boy in school; his father owned the new store on Main, the one his mom had been skeptical about. He was good-looking, or so all the girls seemed to think, falling all over their feet after him, going on about how dreamy he was and how great he and Lana went together. In the few months he'd lived in town, he'd managed to do what Clark hoped for years to do—he caught the town's prettiest girl. *And* he was captain of the football team, *and* he was a star on the basketball team, heck—the baseball team too-- he was tall, blond, and blue-eyed, and yes, he was movie star handsome. Clark hated him viciously for just a bit. He stumbled, stopped and rubbed hard at his eyes—his vision was blurry, and it took a moment for it to ease and by the time it did, he was cool again and embarrassed that he'd gotten so mad.
A familiar sound behind him made him slow. He smelled gasoline, and heard that the truck coming up behind them needed to be tuned… driving up the road towards them was Whitney, in his shiny red truck, almost brand new--the kind of thing Clark's family would probably never have. Well, Whitney might be rich, but Dad and he knew how to keep that nice truck running like it should, something *Whitney* obviously didn't.
Whitney passed slowly, and tossed Clark a wave as he drove past. Clark tried not to frown, and waved back politely like he was taught to. Whitney didn’t have to wave—he had to know Clark had it bad for his girl, everyone did. He always treated him pretty decent…Clark wasn't sure he'd be that way if their situations were reversed. Didn't make him like him any much more…
When the truck pulled up to Lana's little group of girlfriends, they squealed and laughed, red-faced with heat and giggling, they dared each other to be the first to climb into the back. Clark watched the love of his life laugh and smile, and sighed. He'd had that smile directed at him on rare occasions, and each time it'd felt like he was suddenly on fire.
As they drove away, she looked up the road, and caught his eye—she waved at him, and as the truck sped up, the little bow tying her hair back began flapping wildly—she laughed and grabbed it to keep it from blowing away and he was forgotten…
Clark was in a trance, overpowered by the smile, the wave--oh, she was absolutely beautiful, the kind of beauty that was more than the grace of youth. Her beauty was on the inside as well as out—it was classic, timeless. She'd never fade, never change—she'd be beautiful in one way or another forever.
The truck roared away and waves of dust flowed toward him. Great. He licked his lips; grit sticking to them made it an unpleasant experience. He wondered, what was it like to be rich like Whitney; he was so in control, handsome and popular. Clark shook his head. It had to be good; it had to be really good.
@@@@@@@
"… Let the rain pitter patter
But it really doesn't matter
If the skies are gray
Long as I can be with you it's a lovely day!"*
…the last notes of the uneven duet died away and they burst into laughter. Clark was just clearing away the last of his homework from the kitchen table, and his mother was just putting bread under a towel and setting it on the shelf over the stove to rise. Clark figured now was a good time to try and take advantage of Mom's good mood. "Mom, Hannah's birthday is coming up."
"Really Clark? Thank you, I had no idea."
"Har-de-har, Mom, you're a regular Jack Benny, you are."
She snickered, and dropped a bowl of potatoes in front of him. "Work and talk."
He sighed, and started peeling. "Anyway, for her birthday, I want to take her to the movies. She wants to see that Gold Diggers movie."
"Oh, Clark, I don't think that's exactly the kind of movie a little girl should see. I mean, there are girls in tiny costumes, and rough language…"
"Mom. The language isn't anywhere near as rough as Dad's when he's working on the trucks, and so what if the girls wear tiny costumes? Hannah's a girl too. Besides, she's smart enough to tell the difference between what's real and what's a load of soap. She likes the music and the dancing and so do I." He looked at her, trying not to look defiant, just trying to impress on her how serious he was.
His mom was looking at him in an odd way; a look he couldn't put a name to because he'd never seen it before…sort of concerned…and maybe embarrassed…"Mom?" The minute the word left his mouth, he knew he should have kept it zipped, because Mom took it as an invitation to charge ahead—and Clark knew this was not a conversation he wanted to have.
"Clark…you do like girls, right?"
"Mom!"
"I'm not trying to pry! Not too much anyway…" She stopped and flushed a bright red and seemed to be looking for a way to go on. "Son. I guess the easiest way I can put it is like this…the Lord made the animals, each with a mate…um…pairs. Um." She looked down at the floor, than back up. "Clark." She looked at him helplessly, and Clark understood.
"Oh. Oh." He knew the story of his discovery; he'd known as far back as he could remember. From the moment he could understand that he was different, when it became obvious he was, Mom and Dad explained as best they could how he came to be. After last year when he'd seen it in the root cellar, he knew that his cradle wasn't made of maple, like Hannah's, it was made of stuff from the stars. And Mom was worried—she wasn't the only one. Maybe since he was some kind of Flash Gordon thing that fell out of the sky, since he wasn't meant to be here, maybe there was no one, no soul-mate some where out there waiting for him. Or living up the street…
"There…there is a girl. Will be…some day, I hope. You know Lana. I care for her lots. She makes me—" he coughed. Geez, he almost told her just exactly how she made him feel. "She makes me smile. She makes me happy. I feel that…we're meant to be..." she just doesn’t know I exist.
His mom came to the table and kissed him right between the eyes and he grinned. "I'm glad. And I think—I'm just being silly. And speaking of something else that makes you happy, when do we get to meet your friend?"
Clark stopped peeling and looked at his mom in confusion. "Friend?"
"Yes, Whitney. We keep hearing about this great guy, how 'cool' he is," she smiled, and Clark tried not to snicker at her use of slang.
Whitney? Clark tried to remember the times he'd talked about him—he hadn't realized he'd talked about him at all.
Before he could answer Mom glanced up at the rooster shaped clock over the oven. "Hannah should be home from her Brownie troop meeting any minute now. Will you go to the gate to meet her?"
Clark nodded, and as he pushed away from the table, his mom reached out and laid her hand over his. He looked down and thought, so soft, so…tiny. Hunh.
"Clark, one other thing…I know that the Lord has infinite patience, and infinite love. I can't believe that He'd not make someone for everyone, no matter what."
Clark smiled a little. "I know Mom." He had to believe that with all his heart.
"I don’t think He'd make you full of the will to love, and not provide a love for you. When you meet that special someone, whether it's Lana or another girl, I'm certain—it *will* have been meant to be. Sort of…written in the stars." She smiled at him, her eyes bright in that way that told him that she just might be ready to shed a tear. time to scram. He couldn't see his mom cry. He drew his hand carefully out from under hers.
"Unh-hunh," he replied and high-tailed it out the kitchen. Mom cared a lot about him, he knew that. So he wasn't going to worry for one second that Mom was thinking about his possible love life. He did enough of that on his own.
That train of thought was thankfully derailed when Hannah came flying up, ringing the bell on her bike and whooping wildly. Monkey, their big part shepard, part mutt, tore out of the gate behind Clark to catch up with her, barking and running so close to her wheels that Clark worried but they both made it up the drive in one piece.
"Clark, Clark—we had such fun today! We had the best time!"
"I'm so glad—ready for more good news?"
She nodded briskly, her red pigtails dancing crazily, her blue eyes round as dollars.
"Guess who's going to see a grown-up movie tomorrow?"
She hopped up and down impatiently. "Who—what—oh my! I'm going to see the Gold Diggers! Oh Clark!"
"Happy birthday, Hannah."
She threw her arms around him and crowed, "You're the best big brother there ever was! I'm so excited—let's go pick out what you're going to wear."
Clark swung her up into the air easily, and settled her on his shoulders. She clapped a hand on her beanie to keep it from flying off and laughed.
"I can dress my self, I'm a big boy." he said in mock anger.
"Hunh," she said, and kicked his ribs like he was a pony. "You're a big boy with no taste. I wouldn’t steer you wrong Clark. A woman knows these things."
He fought hard not to laugh, and she patted him on his head. "I'll always take care of you Clark."
"Thank you, Banana. You don't know what that means to me."
"Don't step on Monkey," she said.
Songs in this section
I Only Have Eyes For You by Harry Warren and Al Dubin
Isn't It A Lovely Day by Irving Berlin
part 7
TBC
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I loved Martha asking if Clark liked girls after he mentions the music and dancing. *snicker*
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This is another wonderful update.
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thank you!
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And *groans*... There isn't gonna be Clitney before we go back to Lex, is there? Please let me know; I might have to skip those chapters, lol!
Clark and Hannah are still adorable, though!
:D
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I'm glad you're still loving the sibling stuff! ;)
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Hm, I'll have to see... Oh God, no Litney either! NOOOOO!!!!
:P
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:)
I love that song - 'only have eyes for you'. Nice nice.
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i love "i only have eyes for you," especially when art garfunkel sings it. *swoon*
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And it really hurt not to have it, let me tell you.
That's who I hear sing it too. I was totally in love with him each time, for as long as the song lasted. *happysigh*
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The Clark/Martha scene was perfect. She danced around the subject so delicately. :-D
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And thank you too, for your help on that bit--you kept it from being totally stupid! *hugs*
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Great update. *shuffles feet awkwardly* Um, I don't want to seem needy *reaches out arms for a hug* but have you read my Chapter 18? Bruce and Lex. . . instant catnip for Roxy! :)
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Poor Lana...everyone haten'....
whitney and lana are perfect!!!!!!
Re: whitney and lana are perfect!!!!!!
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And isn't that Clark in a nutshell? More than willing to believe the best without balance? tsk! Give me five minutes with that boy...
There's a gorgeous guy out there waiting for you, Clark...and his name isn't Whitney, either! *eyes Roxy narrowly*
*gasp*! What are you saying? Look! *points at header* clex! *grin*
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Proof positive that Smallville is a very strange town! That boy is BEAUTIFUL!
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