Title: Under the Metropolis Sun : Chapter One Laying Siege
Author: Toeh (Stop1337) papersamuri@hotmail.com
Fandom: Smallville
Series: Chapter one. Unforeseen circumstances made me put it on hiatus for a lot of the challenge time, but I’m going to finish the rest and put it up too.

Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Category: alternate universe
Notes: CLFF wave 10. My assignment was Resident Assistant. I happen to be a current dorm resident, sort of. Anyway, this is also my first fiction to be posted on the internet.
Summary: A few years after a falling out, Lex and Clark meet up once again. Who know what will happen under the Metropolis Sun.

Under the Metropolis Sun

Laying Siege

Pushing a clump of dark hair out of his eyes, the Daily Planet's newest unpaid intern stifled a yawn and stared at the acceptance letter. It was more of a memo really.

//Smallville,
Looking for intern. No pay. Horrible hours. Hard work. Work around your classes, maybe.
White//

Clark couldn't believe that the dilapidated, defeated reporter he'd met and nearly been killed by back in Smallville was now Editor 'n' Chief of the most feared and respected paper in Metropolis. Despite Lionel Luthor's raging, it was on the one paper that would not pull its punches, could not be bought, and took on Luthor Corp as often as they legally could. In short - it was Clark Kent's dream job.

Dream job. Which was why he was sitting at the front desk of his dorm at 3 o’clock in the morning, covering mock desk hours for training. If he hadn't needed steadily less and less sleep over the past couple of years, his current schedule would have killed him. Starting at 8am, he was in class until eleven or so. Then he ran straight to the Planet to work from 11:10am as a gofer, coffee boy and mail clerk until 4:30 when he ran back to the dorm on Mondays and Fridays to be on duty as a RA all night. During the rest of the week, his class times varied. For the most part, however, he was either in class, at the Planet, at the officers of the University paper, the Metropolis Sun, or in his room - where he would be at the mercy of his residents once they moved in.

The words 'social life' were archaic slang from high school. He smiled then, not really paying attention to the paperclip chain link fence he was building. Chloe intended to kidnap him for the night and have some fun. They hadn't spoken all summer. Clark had won a journalism contest in his junior year at MetU so his summer was spent touring Japan as the prize. Chloe hounded the papers of Metropolis to land an internship for the fall - the inquisitor. IT wasn't the most respected news outlet, but it was right up her "Wall of the Weird" alley.

He grinned fiercely. She was gonna be so jealous that he was working at the Daily Planet. Pete had already threatened to wear a meteor-rock necklace if he mentioned the Daily Planet the next time they spoke. For secret protecting purposes, Clark had roomed with Pete for their first three years at Metropolis University. They'd rushed a fraternity freshman year, the Delta Beta Zeta, but after a rush hazing not unlike the Smallville Scarecrow tradition, Clark had dropped out. Pete was playing tight end for the MU team, had risen quickly in the DBZ ranks. This year he was actually living in the frat house this year as a 'big brother' in anticipation of this year's pledges. Roomateless, but still occasionally floating at night, Clark had been forced to get a single room. He could have just paid the nearly doubled rent, but housing and money were tight just now. Private rooms were expensive and rare; being a RA solved all that. RAs were guaranteed a private room - at the same price as the double occupancy rooms, a meal plan, monthly salary, and special parking privileges. His parking pass was hanging like a wind chime in his window since he didn't have nor need a car to use it with.

Clark scrubbed hand over his face and glanced at the clock; it was 3:20. He frowned at the last paperclip, wondering how he had managed to use 500 paper clips in this chain in under an hour without his speed. He had to stay here until six, but two hours and forty minutes felt like it would take forever.

Sliding out of the desk chair, Clark stretched and put the clips neatly back in the box. He glanced at the game cabinet, considering raiding it for a chess set to play a solo game, but the shrill scream of an alarm startled him. If he'd still been in the chair, he probably would have fallen out. So startled by it, his vision switched to x-ray, looking for a fire. Instead, he found an area coordinator - his boss to be specific - flipping the alarm on the third floor. Yet another training test, fire drills. He pulled out the dorm roster and moved to the key box to get the fire ring. If he could believe Crissy, they'd let him go to bed once he'd correctly responded to the drill. With any luck, he could get some sleep before sunrise.

Lex Luthor was six short hours from a master's in biochemistry. He was the sole-owner, proprietor, chairman, and CEO of Lex Corp with a 46% stock interest in Luthor Corp. His name was dropped at parties now more for his business ties than just his name. The fawning and flattery had been ever increasing since he'd left Smallville. Sadly, however, at 6pm on a Monday, he found himself locked out of his own office.

"Go home, go out, just take a night off," his secretary - SECRETARY - had ordered not ten minutes ago on her way out. Mrs. Stroud was a formidable woman; it was part of why he'd hired her. He'd fallen in love with her the first time she'd met his father - and promptly had security boot him out with a firm, "Have an appointment next time." The sight of his father being man-handled into an elevator snapping and snarling was forever recorded on security DVDs, and had sent Lex out shopping. He'd gotten the lady a brownstone in the city, and she'd managed to turn him down until mother's day. Like many older women, she'd felt he needed mothering and anything under the guise of a mother's day present she couldn't refuse. "Dear," "sweetheart," and "sir," all came from the same woman in his office - the latter only in view of his clients or employees.

He could get used to the pet names, but not taking orders. Logically, she was right. Fate had conspired to let him finish up everything today by noon and he'd been redoing things until she unplugged his internet access at 330.

If there were a crisis, Yvette - his right hand - would stay on top of all things corporate. If his father needed him, he had voicemail. If the world ended, Mrs. Stroud herself would let him know.

He'd debated picking the lock, but if she ever found out... Lex didn't want on her bad side. She genuinely seemed to like him.

If he were honest with himself, he was a little strung out. After his return to Metropolis about five years before, Lex had made a more subtle return to the club scene.

No more "Club Zero," no raves, just a few of the more mellow hot spots in the city. Smallville had seriously curbed his self-destructive side.

Tonight he would find himself sitting at a newer club on 57th avenue. Someone had converted an old style arcade into a bar and then into a club. It was just big enough to need a door guy for IDs and cover charges, but one visit from Lex Luthor could cure that.

Smiling, Lex headed for his elevator, mentally assembling his outfit on the ride to the lobby. He left Lex Corp's corporate headquarters with a spring in his step. It was nice to be somewhere that his name wasn't viewed as a seeping poison.

Chloe promptly sat on Clark's room phone. "Nuh-uh. That's someone wanting you to cover for them and you're not home - you are out with Chloe getting drunk. Say it Clark."
Sighing in mock indulgence, Clark grinned at her. "I'm out with Chloe, getting drunk."

"Good boy, now, lets go!" Chloe hopped up, bouncing to the door.

Clark grabbed his jacket, knowing Chloe would be cold by the end of the night - she always was, and followed her out to her trusty hatchback.

"Can I ride in the back?" he whined, squeezing into the tiny car.

"You can ride under the tires if you try stalling any more ClarkBar." Chloe put her 'baby' in gear and wheeled out of the parking lot much faster than she should have. "We've put this off twice now, once for RA-ness and once for...” She paused pointedly and then waved her hand at him. 'Clarkness - notice my absolute coolness of NOT asking questions about that any more?"

"Duly noted." Clark grinned. He had blown her off the second time to stop a fire at Metropolis’s Mercy Hospital. She had been secretly pissed for weeks. "Food's on me."

"Not the liquor?" Chloe pouted, blinking innocently at him as they stopped at a light.

"You drink like a fish Chloe. I can't afford you." Clark teased. They both laughed and Clark leaned back as best he could in the tiny seat. He shifted in the tight confines of the rust red interior. "I got my internship."

"Really?" Chloe beamed at him. "Great Clark! Where? The Meter?"

Giving a moment's dramatic pause, and letting them get through an intersection; he broke the news with a straight face. "Daily Planet."

"Bullshit." Chloe laughed. She smacked Clark's arm playfully. "The Planet's above taking college interns. Where is it Clark?"

"Perry White talked to the department chair."

"Oh My God, Clark!" Chloe squealed, banging the steering wheel. "This is great! That's like every journalism major's wet dream! When do you start?"

"I uh started about a week ago." Clark braced himself.

"What?!" Chloe glanced at him, still smiling. "You've been sitting on this?"

"Only for a week,” he spouted defensively. "At first, I was in shock, then I was scared I'd jinx it." It was something of a cheap shot - Chloe had been getting steadily more superstitious since meeting her 'mentor' at the Inquisitor. Apparently the man wouldn't leave home without his lucky coin on his lucky keychain in his lucky coat.

She frowned and then nodded sagely ad if "jinx it' was a scientific term, her earrings bobbing. They pulled into the club's parking lot moments later. "Okay - you're forgiven, but only because you're feeding me."

"Fair enough."

Chloe was frowning at him over the hood as Clark peeled himself out of the tiny car. "You're lucky they don't serve steak."

Clark beamed. "Why do you think I offered?" He laughed, thankful she didn't throw the keys hard enough to break on his chest.

Lording over the club from a corner booth, Lex swirled his drink in the glass. He'd been served by the night manager himself and asked about a dozen times if he needed anything. Sipping something about 80 proof and blue, Lex had politely shooed him away, knowing the place would begin to fill if word got around that he was there. Everyone in the club 'elite' waned to be a part of him discovering a new spot. The party would follow him, at least for now. Excitement would taper off as they noticed he didn't dance, didn't shoot up, and didn't really do anything but watch them.

This twisted voyeurism he blamed on Smallville. Before he would have been in the writhing mass of bodies that was starting to grow on the dance floor; he'd have wanted to be there. Now he was content to sit back and watch others shiver and thrust together somewhere between sex and dancing, to let others play the wild child, to watch that blonde put his hands on Clark's ass.

Lex fumbled his drink, nearly spilling it all over himself. Clark Kent, sweet, humble, small-town Clark Kent was in the throng of bodies - a head and shoulders taller than anyone else out there. . . with a blond man, nearly Lex's age, all over him.

He stared until the song ended, only conscious of how dry his eyes were and how badly he needed to blink when the little blonde hurricane herself - Chloe Sullivan - dutifully extricated Clark from the touchy blond.

Neither of them looked small-town. Somewhere between sheer and non-existent, Chloe's powder blue dress was slit up, up, up. Lex swallowed, his eyes on the lacy trim of her thigh high hose. He'd seen more risqué outfits, but someone seeing a wholesome, if cynical Chloe dressed so provocatively pushed a button he didn't know he'd had.

Clark leading her off the floor was a different kink all together. He knew he liked beautiful men - it was Metropolis's worst kept secret that he liked men. A Kent in flannel was a heartthrob; Clark in black slacks, a white tank top and a black button down was mouthwatering.

He managed to tear his eyes away and threw back a gulp of his drink, letting the burn tear up his eyes. He and Clark hadn't spoken in years. Their friendship had ended in a hail of shouts and accusations just before Clark's high school graduation. Lex set his glass down and rubbed his temples. Christ he was still setting his internal clock by Clark-time.

Glancing back at the pair, Lex saw Clark's beaming smile and felt a wry smile on his own lips. Good for Clark. Chloe was the most solid girl he'd met in Smallville. She was ambitious enough to save him from spending the rest of his life there, unlike Lana. Lex's thoughts broke off when a shock of green left him breathless. Clark's eyes found his and that beautiful smile that haunted his dreams faded to that hard, hurt frown that had been on his face in their last fight.

Chloe looked up when Clark stopped, her gaze following his. She tensed seeing Lex, turning worried eyes on Clark. Lex frowned, she looked more anxious than angry. From the brash Ms. Sullivan he'd fully expected nothing less than a fit to be pitched at the sight of him, but Clark reached for her arm, his eyes still on Lex.

"Let's just go Chloe." Lex could read his lips. He didn't realize he'd stood up at some point until the two turned away - making a Beeline for the door. Maybe it was the liquor or the chaos, or just that he was tired of being alone, but Lex ignored his impassioned promise to never speak to Clark again and hurried to follow them.

They were navigating the parking lot by the time he caught them. "Clark, Wait!"

He didn't need this. His life was working just now. No mutants, no conspiracies, no obsessed borderline psychotics. Just school, two jobs, and weekends as a Met. Sun reporter. Lex Luthor would screw it up - that was his special meteor-induced talent - fucking up the life of Clark Kent.

"No reason to," he called, forcing his tone to be light. He'd feel guilty about this later. It was his fault they'd had to fight, but he'd deal with that later - when Lex wasn't there.

"Please Clark." Lex grabbed the taller man as he opened the door on the rusty, dilapidated car. A swift tingle rode up his arm, as it always seemed to when he allowed himself to touch the dark-haired siren. "I hate the way things ended between us."

Clark doggedly didn't look at Lex until he was certain he had his heat vision completely under control. When he did look, Lex's too-blue eyes were a little wild, a little desperate. "Yeah? Well I hate how things were going; so I'm glad it's all over."

Lex pushed himself between Clark and the open doorway, keeping Clark from getting in and riding out of his life again. " I miss you."

"I miss being manipulated, used, and studied." Clark spat, grabbing a handful of Lex's shirt and yanking him forward. He wanted to say something with Lex held like that right in front of him on tip toe, but the familiar scent of Lex's cologne and just the feel of him so familiar and so hurtful stuck the words in his throat. He shoved Lex away hard enough that he had to grab the car beside theirs for support, but not half hard enough to put him through the card, not even a quarter of how hard he wanted to throw him.

With Lex further away and the scent masked by Chloe's sickly sweet air freshener, Clark found his voice again. "I miss visiting people I care about in the ICU so LexCorp can earn a bigger profit margin."

Lex had let himself flinch at the studied dig, but not this. "Clark, I NEVER meant to-"

"That's just it Lex." Clark cut in, his voice getting thick. "You never mean to." He slid into the tiny car, and Chloe squealed the tires pulling out to get away. Lex didn't get to his feet - he couldn't yet. Once again Clark had managed to reach inside him and tear everything loose, leaving him hollow and weak in the receding glow of brake lights.

Clark huddled in the floor of his closet. He was snuggled under a quilt from home with blankets and pillows filling up the tiny closet's floor. He's started making what his mother called 'nests' late last fall. Pete had teased him a little, but it was one of those alien things that creeped them both out so they tried to avoid talking about it when they could. Back home he'd crawled away to his loft when he was upset, but his parents had made him promise not to run home last semester when a tabloid journalist took up interest in the mutants of Smallville. Now he crawled into his closet and curled up. Now as a RA he had the room to himself and had started sleeping in his closet more than his bed. Seeing Lex last night had caught him off-guard. He'd spend his first semester at college hiding in his room to avoid all things Luthor, but Pete and Chloe had convinced him that Metropolis was big enough that he and Lex weren't likely to run into each other. Almost four years later, he'd pushed all thoughts of Lex out his mind. Seeing Lex again had reopened every wound he'd thought healed since high school.

The creepy, stalker-esque room, the Nicodemus flower incident, Nixon, Phelan, and dozens of other little incidents and hurtful things had rushed back after Chloe dropped him off at the dorm. He'd spend the rest of the night and all Saturday morning thus far, curled up with a pillow in his arms and a quilt tucked around him, because if he were honest with himself, he'd let things go back to what they'd been, obsession and all, if he could. It scared him that he'd let Lex back in his life after everything.

Chloe had spent the rid home swearing she didn't know Lex would be there - like she was scared Clark would think she'd been trying to patch things up between them. He'd been too tired then to even consider it, but now...

He rubbed his face, not wanting to think of Chloe doing this. It was a little after Eleven and he needed to be at the Planet at noon. Clark stared at the room beyond the closet, not moving. He needed to stop moping and get up, but his only snuggled deeper in his blankets. In less than six minutes, if he used his speed, he could be showered, dressed and out the door so a little more sleep wouldn't hurt.

"Hey! Kent!" Mitch called from the front desk a he bolted through the lobby. "You got a letter!"

Clark took a breath, he needed to be running for the Planet in less than three minutes to have enough time to walk in the front doors rather than run. He frowned at the whiter-than-white envelope. It had been hand delivered- only his name was on the front - no address and no explanation.

"Thanks Mitch." Clark smiled, enjoying the younger man's blush. Everyone knew Mitch had a thing for him, or so Chloe started telling him the minute she'd met the kid, but Mitch was a co-worker and a fellow journalism major - dating him would be bad. "No time to talk - I've got to run to work."

Mitch's smile faded. "Oh, well...see you tonight."

"Tonight?" Clark frowned, turning back as he tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket.

"Yeah, we're starting duty rotation this week to be in the groove of it by the time the kiddies get here." Mitch smiled. "They're feeding us pizza while they finalize the duty assignments."

"Oh...ok." Clark waved, pushing open the lobby doors. "See you then!" He jogged down the steps and darted to the parking lot. Closing his eyes, he listened for possible witnesses before sprinting full-tilt for the Planet.

Lois Lane was pacing the lobby as he entered, raging along with about fifty others about a broken elevator. Clark made his way to the stairwell, occasionally glancing at Chloe's cousin. She was pretty, like Chloe, but harder, sharper in a take-no-prisoners sort of way. He had developed something of a crush on her in the last month - which had less to do with her articles and more to do with her short, professional skirts and low cut but tasteful tops. He kept said crush at an eyes-only level, she was dating Bruce Wayne at the moment and research boy couldn't compete with a playboy billionaire. Pete would call her expensive eye-candy - as in too expensive for them.

"Smallville!" Clark's head snapped up. If you weren't from Metropolis, it seemed to be unofficial Planet policy to rename you for your hometown or state. In the copy room and down in the records rooms, he'd met Tricia "Jersey" Spiekeman, Erik "Topeka" Hunt, and Ginger "Memphis" Hayes. Lois Lane was making a path straight to him, plowing through anyone too slow to jump out of her way. "Have you finished that research on Myers Industrial?"

"Yeah, I'll bring you the file - do you want it here or at your desk?"

Lois blinked. Clark smirked at her. She prided herself on being unflappable, and he was feeling just petty enough to take it as points scored. "My desk is on the sixty-fifth floor!" she snapped suddenly, her sarcasm waspish rather than endearing like Chloe's. "But run up there if you want to."

Clark blushed, ducking his head a little. His 'au-shucks' act infuriated her into fits for some reason. "Yes, ma'am," he replied slipping into the stairwell before her indignation gave way to a Lois-tantrum in the lobby. He knew he shouldn't irritate one of the most respected journalists at the Planet, but she was just so easy. Perry seemed to like that he got under her skin, and had promoted him from mail boy to research boy in his first three days - according to his personal theory - just so Lois would have to deal with him more.

He strictly used only human speed inside the wall of the Daily Planet. Using his abilities in a building full of reporters and photographers was tempting fate a little more than he was comfortable with. The slow walk down to the cubbyhole he shared with fifteen other research assistants also gave Lois time to burn out of her tantrum.

By the time he returned to the first floor, folder in hand, the elevators were fixed and the lobby had cleared. He sighed rode one up to the new floor, nicknamed the bullpen. Lois desk sat on the fringe of the 'pen' - next to Perry's office. 'So he could keep an eye on her' was Lois's theory, but Clark thought it was more for the safety of the other reporters. Lois was fiercely territorial when it came to her desk, her chair and her story. As 'her' assistant, he'd gotten the easiest but most hated job in the research department. Technically he was just a general research assistant and should have been anybody's bitch for story research, but his thoroughness had impressed her and Lois had claimed him. He was privy to her work more than anyone at the Planet except for Perry but that also meant he was subject to her temper first hand. No one would risk the wrath of Lois to assign him their research so he was pretty much HER bitch.

He smiled at the empty seat behind her desk and sat the file down, kneeling to reach under her desk and unplug her monitor from her computer tower. She'd started a minor prank war by putting hot sauce in the research department's coffeepot. She didn't know he knew this because he'd been looking through the wall at that time. Unfortunately for her, he'd grown up with Chloe Sullivan as a teacher - cousin or not - Lois didn't stand a chance.

He was so busy trying to twist the little connector free that he didn't hear her until it was too late.

"Drop a contact Smallville?"

Clark jumped, banging his head on her desk. He glanced at the wood, thankful it hadn't splintered and rubbed his head in mock pain. "Ow! No, I was making sure you didn't yank your cables loose again. Perry was furious yesterday when you had the Net-techs up here just to plug in your mouse."

"How thoughtful." Lois barked her smile feral. "This is ALL we have on Myers Industrial?"

Clark beamed at her. "There's a CD in the cover flap - most of it's on the database Ma'am."

"Don't call me - ooh." Lois scooped up a white envelope. "Aw, a love letter?" She danced back when he reached for the note. He'd forgotten all about the letter. She opened it and squirmed away when he reached for it.

"Clark,

There are things I need to say. Things I think you need to hear. I will be at De Angelo's just after three. If you come, we can talk. If not, I won't bother you again.

Lex"

Lois laughed, till she notice Clark wasn't after the letter anymore. "What's the matter Smallville?" She took in the pale face and shell shocked expression. "Did your girl send you a Dear John?"

"I can't believe he wrote that." Clark stared at the paper and she handed it over. "Did - did you need anything else?"

"Yeah, coffee and danish." Lois sat down, opening her file - office drama forgotten in the pursuit of a story.

"Okay." Clark stuffed the note in his pocket as he headed for the break room for her coffee, his mind reeling. From Lex, that was an apology. He promised to leave it alone if Clark wasn't interested - that was bending where Luthors don't bend. No one else would send an apology quite to aggressively written. Something angry and just a bit hurt in Clark didn't wan to give him the chance, but part of him still missed his best friend and ached to give in.

De Angelo's was the oldest and best loved pasta house in the city. It sat between the towering skyscrapers and shorter, squat historic buildings like a sentinel of the pat. A house converted into a restaurant back in the 1920s to cater to the upper crust of society, it had seen hard times and was now a family night for middle class Metropolis. According to Lois, it was also one of the best-kept secrets of old money Mafia. That was probably how Lex - as much as he stood out anywhere - could dine quietly in its back rooms and no one was the wiser.

A man in a suit greeted Clark inside the foyer. The suit was taller than Clark, an accomplishment at over six feet, but he was narrower - smaller than Lex even with long black hair tied securely at his nape.

"Please, follow me, sir." the man turned, leading Clark through a second door that looked that a closet. It was probably originally a servant's entrance, now it was the VIP corridor that led to upstairs dining.

Clark's coat was taken after the topped the staircase, giving him time to study the room. Clark couldn't identify the heavy, expensive cloth of the curtains, but his mom would've known on sight. All the opulence faded to background noise as his eyes found that table they'd begin leading him to.

The afternoon sun's indirect glow bathed the room in a warm golden light - flattering Lex's pale coloring, as artificial light never could. His former best friend was looking out on the street - all that focus studying the hustle and bustle of afternoon Metropolis.

He was halfway to the table when Lex turned. All that focus hit Clark in the gut, making him breathless. They shared a moment of silent study before Lex stood, holding out a hand in greeting. "Clark!" Clark shivered as that smile warmed him to his toes.

"Lex." He took the hand firmly, trying not to notice how delicate, how breakable the bones felt now. He seemed to grow stronger with every passing year, and yesterday he'd thrown Lex into a car much harder than he should have. Guilt choked him a little.

Habit had his once-overing the smaller man with x-ray vision. He let out a little breath, thankful nothing was broken.

They sat at the same time. Clark didn't notice that Lex noticed him looking and mistook it as being checked out. "I ordered Muscadet." Lex gestured to their filled wineglasses. "It was one you liked."

Clark smiled. Lex had spent a long New Year's eve making Clark help him taste wines to pick one for the party that night. A Muscadet was the only one Lex claimed he didn't make a face after. "Yeah." He lifted his glass, sipping the fruity wine.

"How've you been?" Lex asked abruptly, a finger tracing the edge of the menu distractedly.

Clark frowned at the gesture. It was uncertain, obvious and utterly unLexlike. "Busy, but good. You?"

"About the same. " He glanced down at his menu. Lunch had been a careful plan. Dinner would have been too intimate and a breakfast invitation had always felt silly to him. He'd briefly considered asking Clark to have coffee, but abandoned the idea, knowing memories of The Talon were still to raw for such a revisiting. The wine, the restaurant, even his plum suit had all been carefully chosen, but Lex couldn't remember the conversational plan. "I heard you have an internship at the Planet, that's great Clark."

"Thanks." Clark stared at his wine, then out the window. This was so much more awkward than he'd anticipated. When Clark shifted in his chair, Lex panicked.

"I won't push any more," he blurted out earnestly. "I won't ask questions you can't answer. I'll leave the past alone - I miss being friends."

Lex kicked himself. He could do this better, should have spent more time planning out what to say.

Clark closed his eyes and took a breath, the near desperation on Lex's face a haunting echo of how he'd looked at Bell Reve.

"No more investigations, no more studying. Yes, I've stockpiles meteor rocks- but that's only because the government won't classify them as hazardous. I'm keeping them as contained as I can to prevent more mutations - I'm not using it for research and I swear I never will. Clark, I -"

"Okay." Clark cut in, hearing the word before he realized he'd said it. He'd promised not to abandon Lex ever again after Bell Reve - a promise he'd felt justified in breaking during their last fight, but now guilt was welling up inside him again.

"Okay? That's it?" Lex blinked, expecting to have to grovel and beg. "Okay?" He swallowed, a smile blooming. "Sorry, I didn't think it would be this easy."

"Things aren't going back to what they were." Lex relaxed at Clark's statement, hearing determination rather than resignation. "It's not going to be easy."

"Nothing between us ever seems to be." Their eyes met and Lex felt like crowing at the toothpaste commercial bright smile. "So," Clark picked up his menu, "what's good here?"

"I could drive you." Lex offered when Clark announced he had to leave. He needed to be back at work soon. Tricia promised to cover for him for an hour, but she couldn't promise more than that - if Lois came looking she'd start tearing the building apart to find him.

"It's two blocks away, I'm fine." They stood simultaneously, Lex paying the bill.

"Are you busy tonight?" Lex asked, trying to railroad the Kent-I-don't-take-any-kind-of-gift speech.

"No, oh, yeah - I'm on duty."

"Oh." Lex frowned, puzzled and disappointed.

Clark smiled apologetically as they walked to the stairs. "I'm an RA - Resident assistant. I have to be on Campus at night."

He paused while they were helped into their coats. The waiters melted away again quickly, likely sensing the two had more to say. "Why don't you come over? We could watch a movie or something."

Lex cocked his head to the left, smiling. "I'd like that. I could bring dinner." He was tucking his hands in his pockets. Clark's smile grew a little. It was the pose Lex struck when most like himself - a shy man trapped in an industrialist's body.

"Great! See you around seven?"

"Sure." Lex paused in the doorway, looking up over his shoulder. "I really have missed you Clark."

Clark reached out, half-patting, half-squeezing Lex's shoulder. "Me too Lex."

They stood still for a long moment before Lex stepped aside to let Clark hurry down the stairs. "So - Seven?" he called as Clark reached the door.

"Seven." Clark headed out quickly, grinning.

Clark stared at his spotless room for the sixth time. He'd used two body pillows to make his bed a couch for watching TV and Pete's Xbox sat on the floor so they could play Halo or go rent a game if they got bored.

Strictly speaking he wasn't supposed to leave the dorm - or his room - while on duty, but he'd called in some favors. Mitch and Donovan - the 3rd and 1st floor RAs would cover rounds for him tonight, and he'd do double duty the rest of the weekend for them.

He opened his 'Future of Journalism' textbook and tried to study before Lex arrived, but after forty minutes on one page - memories of good and bad times in Smallville kept him company. Relief came twenty minutes early in the form of someone running down the hall.

"Clark!" Clark stuck his head out, ducking just in time to miss Mitch's arm as the kid reached for his doorknob. "Hey! There's a Porsche out front! LEX LUTHOR's in the lobby!"

Grinning, Clark jogged to the stairs. "Thanks Mitch!"

He heard the guy bolting - probably going to tell every RA in the dorm. Shaking his head, he cheated on the stairs, half jumps half flying down them.

Lex was leaning casually on the front desk, talking to Crissy - the girls’ dorm RA. The poor girl's face matched her shirt's pale pink. Lex had that affect on women.

"Hey." Clark smiled, propping the hallway door open with his back. "I forgot to tell you what room didn't I?"

Lex turned, smiling. He had white take-out bags at his feet from a Chinese place called White Dragon. "Yeah," He turned back to the girl. "It was nice to meet you Crissy."

"Oh you too Mr. Luthor - I-I mean Lex." She burst into excited giggles.

He smiled at her again, and turned back to Clark. "I brought Chinese. I remember it being a staple of college life."

"I love Chinese." Clark took one of the bags, and waved to Crissy before leading Lex up to his room.

Grinning like an idiot, Lex tossed his keys on the hall table and loosened his tie. His smile grew a little more, seeing the wadded movie ticket tangled in his keychain. To hell with Princeton, Harvard, and Yale - Metropolis University was the best college in the world. It had Clark Kent without curfew or Jonathan Kent and last semester's bisexual editor at the school paper to open Clark's eyes to alternative lifestyles.

The semester was just beginning and thanks to his new job as a Resident Assistant Clark had moved in two weeks early. Fate once again threw them together, though thankfully, not cars were involved this time. Their reconciliation had gone without a hitch. Halloween was ten days away and for the first time in years, Lex had a reason to celebrate the holiday. Clark's floor was putting on a haunted house of the dorm and he'd been invited to spend the night there as their mad scientist.

Clark was at class during the day, but they ate dinner together almost every night and had been hitting late night cinema on Sundays - seeing the end run of the summer's blockbusters at the $1.50 theater. Dinner and a movies almost nightly - Clark was all but dating him and didn't have a clue.

Sighing, Lex pocketed the wrinkled ticket. He'd started a small collection of memorabilia from their dates, ticket stubs, a wristband from a campus carnival, little trinkets he'd never considered keeping before. Then again, he'd never liked someone the way he liked Clark.

Pausing in the kitchen, Lex poured himself a glass of orange juice, making a mental list of things he wanted to do Clark's winter break.

The sharp clink of glass on glass from down the hall made Lex look up. This was his penthouse. He'd moved out of Lionel's last summer, getting a place that turned out to be within walking distance of Clark's dorm. No one else had a key. His cellphone was out and open - poised to call the police when he noticed a heavy navy coat dropped over the back of the couch in his living room, his father's coat.

Irritated, he sat his glass down on the counter and stormed back to his study.

"I had to put up with your hovering in Smallville, Dad. I don't here." Lex snapped, glaring at the man lounging behind his desk.

"You haven't been returning my calls Lex." Lionel clucked, lifting a glass of scotch in a mock salute. " I was worried."

“Bullshit,”Lex snorted mentally. "I don't have much to say to you."

"Oh?" Lionel smiled around his glass as he took a long sip. "I think we have plenty to talk about."

Leaning against the doorframe in a mockery of relaxation, Lex tried not to look as tired as he felt. He'd been up since 4am - which was probably why Lionel was waiting to see him now at nearly midnight. Lionel was smirking at him. Swallowing, Lex tried to think of what Lionel might have over him now.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Lex's hands slid into his pockets as he schooled his features to remain calm. "This again? Dad, I'm not going to start dating your debutantes again to get an heir."

"Sooner or later, the tabloids will catch on Lex - not everyone's as blind as your little farm boy." Lionel smiled darkly. "It'll ruin your political ambitions - and I want grandchildren."

Lex smiled cruelly. "Biological clock ticking, Dad?"

"I won't have the Luthor name ruined because you can't stop pining for the Kent boy. It's shameful Lex. I taught you not to fight battles you can't win."

Lex was silent for a moment, his eyes wide – startled. "You're right Dad." There was no guile in the startled voice that answered. It was grating to admit it, but Lionel was right. He'd flirted for years with Clark in Smallville - earning only lollipop-sweet smiles and friendly sentiment. "He's - an intern at the Planet." Lex smoothed his hand over his scalp, trying to think of something better to say.

"And it's the only paper in town that black balls us." His father sat back, smiling and sipping his scotch thoughtfully. "Sometimes Lex, not always, but sometimes, you remind me of me."

Normally, Lex took that remark as an insult, but not tonight. Lionel would have something expensive and valuable by morning. That was the only kind of gesture of thanks he would understand - even if he didn't know the reason behind it.

Lex had always taken the general's advice to work but the poet's advice in love. That had been a mistake. Lex wasn't a poet. Oh, he could wax romantic night and day to get what he wanted, but not when he was sincere. Sincerity had a way of choking his words and ruining his intentions; though he could win and woo at his leisure when he used such attentions strategically.

As soon as he could get his father out, he'd start laying down plans. This needed to be studied. If Clark ever suspected he was being viewed as a territory to conquer, it would become a hopeless endeavor, but if he just thought it all out and used Clark's sweet vulnerabilities against him, then his 'Smallville Wonder' wouldn't know what hit him.

He'd announce his intentions in the morning. A phone call around 7:10 - ask Clark to lunch, stumble over his words a little, sound nervous - Clark would be concerned and certainly curious. Then, a first phase if you will. Something subtle...Marc Benton, the embezzling CEO of the crumbling Memorial Museum - who would be served with an indictment in less than two days according to a court clerk - would call Clark Kent wanting to confess. He'd read Kent's article on morality in big business in this son's copy of The Metropolis Sun and had been moved to confession. Marc would have his own confession out there - tainting any jury pool with his 'remorse,' and if the man resisted helping out, Lex had records of the DA's gambling problems and debts to a Gotham crimelord - he could buy the man a plea bargain.

The story would guarantee Clark's position at the Planet, but he couldn't keep dropping stories in Clark's lap. He would have to start making introductions, taking Clark places that would help him find his way in the wicked, wicked world of Metropolis. Once Clark's future employment was secure without his own obvious fingerprints, phase two could begin.

Smiling over his scotch glass as his father continued yet another pompous speech about LuthorCorp's future, Lex finally felt at ease with his relationship with Clark. He had been lost, trying to flirt and offer himself to Clark with sincerity - floundering in things he didn't understand, but that wouldn't be a problem in the future, since Lex would no longer be flirting. He was laying siege.