roxy. sv fic post: East of the Sun part 20

Title: East of the Sun

Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex

Rating:PG
Word Count:1848

Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: my version of the swing era. Sure, it's weird—it's me!

Many, many thanks to

danceswithgary for the beautiful cover!

This part is unbetaed—betaded? Uncleaned up! Mostly because the next bit is going to take forever, but I wanted to get this out there—so apologies, and please don't yell at me,

danceswithgary

"Hey…I can sing…" The kid stopped and swallowed, his cheeks were so red Alex was afraid he was going to burst into flame. The look he gave Alex made his heart skip a beat. Poor guy, he'd just realized he'd put his foot in it.

"Sing—ha—" Walt snorted and gulped at his coffee, snapping his fingers at Alex. Alex sighed. "Why don't you ever buy your own?" he muttered, reached into his jacket and pulled his cigarette case out. Walt held his hand out until Alex lit one and tucked it in his spread fingers. He squinted at the kid through a cloud of smoke, drawled, "Oh yeah—every fuckin' busboy and waiter in this city's an undiscovered star—I'm telling you —everyone's got a g-damned act. Sing---why if I had a nickel for—Alex!—make him sing." He bit down on the butt and inhaled, scornful eyes trained on the visibly wilting kid.

"You want me to, um…should I?" The kid was twisting his hands like a maiden aunt at a cooch show, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Jesus. Alex looked away and gulped hot coffee--get a grip

"C'mon, son. Boss wants you to sing." Alex peered up at him. "So what's the word--you hip to the jive?"

"I'm—I'm pretty darn hip and--and not square—at all."

Alex bit his lip and shook with silent laughter--Walt groaned and slapped his forehead. "Oh God—you see it, Alex---the corn---stalks in his pocket an' leaves in his hair, I'm telling you—betcha a nickel he stinks on ice."

That got to the kid. He straightened up—he's so *tall*, Alex thought. His hands stopped their dance and planted themselves firmly on his hips. His cheeks blazed, eyes flashed. "Oh you think so? You'll lose that five cents!"

"He means a fin—a fiver, son," Alex said gently. He felt bad for laughing at the kid. He might be a fish out of water, but he had a backbone. Thank God for that, because everything else about him said 'fuck me', and this town would be happy to do that. "A five-dollar bill—"

"I knew *that*!" The blush moved from the kid's cheeks to stain his face. He took a breath, muttered something and stepped back from the table. He crossed his hands behind him like a school boy and sang--just like that. Alex felt his heart squeeze—the boy was good. He sang like an angel, Alex closed his eyes to hear better and when he did he felt like he was flying…flying over Metropolis in the arms of an angel.

It seems we stood and talked like this before.
We looked at each other in the same way then,
But I can't remember where or when.

The clothes you're wearing are the clothes, you wore.
The smile you are smiling you were smiling then,
But I can't remember where or when…

Alex knew the boy was looking at him—he could feel his eyes on him, feel them pinning him down. He had the strangest sensation—as though this was first time he'd ever really heard the song…there was a meaning there he'd never understood until this moment. He opened his eyes, opened his mouth to say something…anything, and the guy faltered…gulped and stopped, and his eyes shimmered. He dropped his head, shook it like he was irritated and made to step back and Walt snapped, "Keep singing."

The guys in the band were staring and Chloe was staring—everyone was quiet, waiting. The kid nodded, looked away and went on.

Some things that happened for the first time
Seem to be happenin' again

And so it seems that we have met before,
And laughed before, and loved before,
But who knows where or when.

He stopped. "I'm—that's it. Do you want me to sing something else?" He shrugged and smiled, a tremulous quirk--he threw his shoulders back, lifted an eyebrow, and the quirk bloomed into a bright white smile. "Or should I just bring you more coffee?"

Walt glared at Alex and Alex shrugged, nodded. Walt rolled his eyes and looked at Chloe—she nodded too, her smile nearly as blinding as the kid's. Walt threw his hands up. "You're a singer in a band, kid."

"What? Just like that? I mean, really? Really? I can't---*thank* you, mister…mister…"

"Walt Cook—call me Walt. Don’t call me Boss." Walt growled with a pointed glance at Alex. "And protect your ass, country."

He looked confused and Alex laughed. "Don’t worry about him. What's your name, boy?"

"Clark. Clark Kent."

Walt looked puzzled. "Clark Clark Kent? Where are you from?"

"Jesus Walt, please tell me you're being deliberately obtuse —the boy's name is *Clark* Kent. Right, son?" Alex smiled at him, and the kid—Clark frowned back.

"I'm twenty years old; I'm hardly a boy and I'm definitely *not* your son."

"Noo…I guess not…Clark. Sorry about that, fellah." Alex was pretty sure Clark was exaggerating. More like eighteen—or else a *very* young twenty. Maybe they grew them like that on the farm. Poor thing probably never had a harsh moment in his life, all peaches and cream…the city must be an eye-opener for him. Meanwhile, the kid looked like he wanted to lick the ground Chloe walked on and the way she was eyeballing him, it looked like he'd be licking *something* soon. He lit a cigarette and said, "Her name is Chloe."

"Hunh?" The kid turned back to him with the hint of a smile on his face. "I'm sorry?"

He jerked his chin towards the stage. "Chloe Sullivan. Our canary."

"Oh. Thanks. What's yours?" he asked and blushed. "I'm sorry—that was rude. I know better than that."

"Hey, none of that, I asked you first. And after all, we're practically brothers with you in the band now." He held out his hand. "Alex. Alex Roth." He smiled at him and the kid smiled wider, getting the feeble joke.

"Pleased to meet you, Alex Roth."

Walt stood and held his hand out. "You better go let your old boss know what's going on—tell him come see me. See you tomorrow, ten o'clock, Clark Clark." Clark shook Walt's hand, beaming the whole time, assuring him he'd be there bright and early.

Alex watched the kid walk away and thought 'damn, that ass…'

"Alex. Hey, Alex…" Alex jumped and focused on Walt.

"Geez—can you believe—you're kind of—say," he said, and his eyes softened, and he put a hand on Alex's arm. "Say, are you okay?"

Alex stared at Walt for a long moment before catching his breath, "Yeah, yeah, Walt, I'm fine. I just…I guess I'm a little tired is all." The noise of the band breaking up behind him pulled him out of his funk. He heard the tap tap of heels, little quick steps, come up behind him, and a soft cheek rubbed against his scalp. "Chloe…" Her arms went around his neck and she sniffed him. "You smell so good. Walt, why can't you smell this good?"

"What for?" he smirked. "I'm catnip to skirts without the par-fum baby. I know right now you're thinking, Lord, how can I get that prize bull of a man to toss me a crumb—"

"Oh, it's prize bull, all right." She slid around the chair and plopped herself into Alex's lap. She wrapped his tie around her fingers and purred, "How'd your little friend get so funny? Now, 'bout that tall drink of water…Walt, baby, tell me you hired him…or else."

"I did, you loose woman. Behave yourself—I need that voice—don’t go messing things up."

Alex tried not to tighten his grip on Chloe's waist. He knew that she already had the boy bagged, tagged and had his head on the wall. The way the kid had been checking her out, he was a gone goose. Alex swore what made her happy made him happy, he was right behind her, ready to go to bat for her, and—and—

"Alex, honey—I gotta breathe."

"Shit, sorry Chloe, just thinking. About that battle of the bands next summer, *Walt.*"

Walt threw his arms up. "God help me—I gotta get a drink!"

He got up and left and Chloe watched him. "Starting to wear him down, love."

"Yeah," he laughed. "Damn, I've never seen anyone so hell bent on not reaching for the brass ring." He shook his head.

"Walt's happy where he is, hon. Not everyone has some magnificent destiny in the offing." She turned to face him and twined her arms around him, kissed him on the lips. "So what's on the menu for tonight?"

"Ummm…how about dinner, club hopping, than crazy mad love-making in the back of a hack?"

"Oh sugar, that sounds great and I sure wish it was me in the back of that taxi with you," she sighed theatrically and rolled her eyes.

He laughed. "What makes you so sure it wouldn't be?"

"Oh I know all right," she pouted. "Remember the first time we worked together? I plastered the giant smooch on your kisser—to 'get that out of the way?' I thought you'd die. Boy, was I barking up the wrong tree." She laughed, and he threw his arms around her.

"Trust me, dollface, if it could ever be a girl, it'd be you, see," he said in his best Edward G. voice and it was true. He really cared for her. She was great fun, had a huge heart and a giant voice and…she was like family to him. "Hey, you were eye-ballin' the new guy pretty hard. He's something else, hunh?"

"Oh, yeah he is. Dibs on him," she grinned. Alex laughed.

"No problem Blondie, he was all tooth and woof looking at you. All you have to do now is lay out the welcome mat and wave the leash." He stood and swung her to her feet. "Now, scoot, Daddy's got things to do."

She winked, grabbed her coat and danced off towards the door and right behind her strolled Pete, coat over his arm and a big smile on his face. "Say, Mom's waiting for you to let her know what to cook on Friday—"

"Oh--damn! Pete, shit, I forgot. I have a date Friday, an old school friend. We get together every couple of months and well, he called to let me know he's free…I'm so sorry, but we hardly get to see each other and it's…important. Tell your mom I'll make it up to her, scout's honor…"

"She's going to have your ass. You better send flowers Gee, lots and lots of flowers, and…how far can you crawl on your knees?" Pete grinned. "Don’t worry son, I'll try and smooth it over. But that means you owe me, *big*."

"Pete—anything, you name it." The minute he said it, he wanted to take it back. Could he possibly carry more guilt? But…

Pete sighed. "Yeah, I'll think of something," he said with a sad smile.

Alex looked down at the table. "Okay sport, thanks." He felt bad—but Pete knew the rule.

TBC

The song Clark sang. It's a current rendition but the style suits the story so well.
Where Or When

okay! That's it for right now. Not a hiatus, just a round-up of the horses! I hope to get it going again by next week--wish me luck!

part 21

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Flat. Top-Level Comments Only

Posted by

rednihilist.livejournal.com

He heard the tap tap of heels, little quick steps, come up behind him, and a soft cheek rubbed against his scalp. "Chloe…" Her arms went around his neck and she sniffed him. "You smell so good. Walt, why can't you smell this good?"

LOL I had a fun time picturing this, and the look on Alex's face as Chloe rubbed herself on his head like a cat.

And who is that friend Alex is meeting on Friday, hmmmm? Is it who I think it is?

--and yes, you should know what I'm thinking, all the time. You don't, you say? *G*

Posted by

sv fic post: East of the Sun part 20

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