Speeding into the warehouse where Martha Kent made deliveries for Mobile Meals, Clark shouted, “Mom!”  His sudden entrance distracted Tyler’s determined approach to his mother. 

“Get away from her!”  Kent advanced on the formerly helpful young man. 

Martha, who had just seen her friend, Hank, disintegrate into a small pile of ash, was first and foremost a mother.  Secondly she was a Smallville resident - not by birth - but by osmosis, and of paramount importance was the protection of her son. 

“Clark, don’t touch him!” Martha warned the teenager urgently. 

Positioned between Tyler and his mother, Clark didn’t realize how close Tyler was until his face was touched.  Instantly Clark lost his natural ruddiness and one side of his face paled to a sickly, grayish color.  Burning pain flooded every cell on Clark’s face where he had been touched.  In self defense, the young man threw Tyler at a stack of boxes.  Once the contact between the two teenagers was broken color returned to Clark’s face.  Clark touched his face in confusion; the pain was fading but he didn’t understand why he had been hurt.  Swaying slightly, Clark shuffled around trying to spot Tyler.  He did not need his X-ray vision to see the young man fleeing through the open door of the warehouse.  He wanted to run after Tyler but he could not seem to muster the energy for the effort. 

Rushing to her son, Martha hugged him while her eyes searched his features keenly. 

“Are you OK?” 

“Yeah…uh…I think so.  What happened?” 

Martha knew how guilty her alien son felt about the mutations in Smallville.  Her viewpoint was more sanguine.  The meteors had traveled with her son’s spacecraft and similar to the other denizens of Smallville, those rocks also affected Clark in unexpected ways.  Giving him one last pat, she shrugged and moved away. 

“We’ll have to call the Sheriff and tell him about Hank.” 

Staring at the pile of ash near the doorway, Clark muttered, “I should go after Tyler.” 

“You’re not going anywhere, young man,” Martha lectured sternly.  “Don’t think I didn’t notice how Tyler’s touch affected you.  You’re still not steady on your feet, Clark.” 

Martha cast a glance around the shadowed warehouse.  Biting back a quiet sigh, she added another Smallville location to the list of places she would never visit again. 

“Come on, Clark.  Let’s make this phone call.” 

The two people left the warehouse, both lost in their own thoughts. 

Clark was very quiet through the quick questioning by the Sheriff.  Ethan was a resident of Smallville and he had long ago become inured to unusual death reports.  The pile of ash that was formerly Hank was a bit tame.  Unless the pile of ash was reconstituted to Hank and began walking and talking, this was a run-of-the-mill death – for Smallville.  

Martha kept an eye on her son throughout the drive home and the subsequent early dinner.  As Clark escaped to the loft to do his homework, Martha decided that she would give him his space for the evening.  She, too, needed some recovery time.  However, her son had better be back to normal by morning or else she would have to have a little heart-to-heart with him.  She spared a few thoughts for Hank’s untimely passing.  Again she was faced with the dilemma that the miracle that had brought her Clark caused these destructive changes in the residents of Smallville.  

Sitting in the loft surrounded by his homework, Clark completed his Algebra quickly.  His thoughts kept returning to the moment Tyler had touched him.  Smoothing his hand over his cheek he shivered as he remembered the excruciating pain he felt when Tyler touched him. 

Jonathan Kent climbed the stairs to the loft.  Since his son had shared his true feelings about fishing – as in not liking it – he had been avoiding his son.  One of the remnants of childhood had been their annual fishing trip.  Clark had loved it and had looked forward to it each year.  Hearing how much Clark loathed fishing at breakfast yesterday had hurt him.  Yet he needed to see Clark; to be sure he was in one piece.  From what Martha had told him, Clark had been adversely affected by Tyler.  

Reaching the top step, Jonathan stared at his son until he looked up.  He realized that his son was growing older and further away from him.  “Son, your mom is, uh, she’s resting.  She’s pretty shaken up, but I think she’s gonna be fine.  The police are looking everywhere for Tyler.” 

Clark nodded slowly.  “I don’t think they’re gonna stop him.” 

Jonathan was surprised at Clark’s answer, “Why?” 

Rubbing the tip of his finger against the curve of his sculpted cheekbone, Clark said absently, “Because I saw his heart.  It wasn’t beating.” 

“Clark, that doesn’t make any sense.  How can…how can he walk around if he’s dead?”  Jonathan returned sharply. 

“I don’t know.”  Clark was worried.  He didn’t know how.  He could only report what he saw.  “How can he turn people to ash?  When he touched my face, it hurt.”  Clark’s voice dropped to a soft whisper, “I felt as if the life was being drained out of me.” 

Jonathan reached toward his son.  “Clark, are you sure that you’re –" 

Leaning away from the outstretched arm Clark interrupted, “Yeah.” 

Tracing his eyes over his son’s features, Jonathan wanted to be sure that there was no lasting damage. 

Clark looked up at his father, “Dad?” 

“Yes, son?” 

Thinking about the distance between his father and himself ever since he had tried to convince Jonathan Kent to take advantage of skybox seats for the Metropolis Sharks game in lieu of their annual fishing trip, Clark wanted to explain why he preferred football instead of fishing as next weekend’s activity. 

Absently rubbing his index finger across his cheek, Clark tried to sort through the jumble of words that swirled in his mind immediately.  He found that he couldn’t utter a word.  Talking to his dad at this moment would mean that he would have to explain how good he felt when Lex did nice things for him.  How Lex’s thoughtfulness reaffirmed and deepened their friendship.  It would mean baring his tangled emotions about Lex and their complicated friendship to an unsympathetic audience.  Clark swallowed his words.  Jonathan Kent was one of Lex Luthor’s harshest critics and Clark didn’t know if there was any explanation he could tender that would change his father’s opinion of Lex.  Anyway, he was too shaken by the events of the afternoon to try. 

“What?”  Jonathan asked impatiently. 

Clark rubbed his face once more and swallowed his words, “Nothing.” 

After an uncomfortable moment of silence which left Jonathan feeling as if he had missed something important, he turned and walked down the steps.  

Clark resolutely dragged his thoughts away from Lex Luthor, Jonathan and Martha Kent and any thoughts of Tyler Randall, pain and death associations.  He finished his homework quickly and sped back to the farmhouse to prepare for bed.  Thankfully his mother and father had also retired early so he did not run into his parents.  It was only as he teetered on the edge of sleep some time later and he rubbed his check again feeling the phantom memory of Tyler’s painful touch that he wondered how soothing it would be to have Lex’s fingers smooth across his cheekbones. 

The next day Clark grinned widely when Lex entered the Talon.  He had just warned Lana about Tyler and he had received some good news from Lana that she and Whitney would be talking later.  Clark felt that he deserved some brownie points for all the personnel relations work he had been putting in for his friends and Lex was just the person to give it to him. 

“Lex.  Hi!” 

Lex’s smile matched Clark’s in wattage though it dimmed quickly.  “Clark, I’m glad I ran into you.  I need to talk to you about the Sharks game.  Is your dad coming?” 

Clark’s smile faded as he was reminded of the current impasse between him and his dad.  “I’m not sure.” 

Tilting his head to one side, Lex said casually, “Funny, when I asked him, he was pretty adamant he wasn’t going.” 

It wasn’t that he wanted to call Clark a liar but Lex did not believe that even Clark’s persuasiveness would convince Jonathan Kent to attend the game on Lex’s largesse.  It didn’t matter to the man that he, Lex Luthor, would not be there and that attending this game would make Clark happy. 

In a split second Lex made a decision, “I’m rescinding the offer.  Go fishing with your dad.” 

Clark’s face fell and Lex hardened his heart against his friend’s crestfallen features.  With some effort Lex also kept his expression bland aware that Clark was marshalling his pleas for him to change his mind. 

“Lex, you don’t have to do that,” Clark protested. 

Nodding as if he had given the situation a lot of thought, Lex explained, “I know that, Clark.  But your dad wants to spend some time with you.  It’s not something I want to come between.  In his own way, he’s just trying to give you something my father never gave me.” 

“What?”  Clark asked avidly.  Any tidbit he learned about Lex was added to his store of knowledge about his friend. 

“Limitations,” Lex lectured.  “All my father ever told me was, ‘Don’t get caught. Don’t cause a scandal.’  That’s not love; that’s public relations.  You have no idea how lucky you are.  When my father dies, kings will come to his funeral, but when yours does, his friends will come.” 

Forestalling the protest he saw rising to Clark’s lips, Lex nodded sharply to emphasize his words, turned and left the Talon. 

Staring at his friend’s back, Clark touched his cheek.  He heard what Lex said and although Lex would be horrified, Clark also heard and understood Lex’s unspoken hunger for Clark’s limitations.  Lex had every monetary advantage in the world but his father, Lionel, kept him at arm’s length, while Clark enjoyed a close intimacy with Jonathan which Lex envied.  Touching his cheek, Clark mused on his mother’s words from the day before.  Jonathan and his father had not been close and the Kents hadn’t had the excuse of money to bridge the emotional distance.  Maybe Lex was right.  His relationship with his father was special. 

And there, standing in the Talon, with the ebb and flow of coffee drinkers around him Clark realized that he had been looking at his problems with his father in the wrong way.  He simply needed to find a way to get his father to understand how much Lex craved a place in the Kents’ lives and to do so Lex would have to spend more time with them.  With Lex being around more, Jonathan would have no choice but to see the vulnerability and need that existed in Lex Luthor.  Besides which, Clark had realized last night that he wanted more of Lex in his life.  So carving out a spot for Lex in the close-knit Kent world would be great.  Not that he planned to tell either Lex or his father about his future plans for Lex.  Letting either know that he planned to have Lex touch his cheek, his lips and eventually his naked body was a thought he would not share with either man.  They were just not mature enough to accept that yet.  But first, he had a fishing trip to plan.  As he left the Talon, Clark made a beeline for Fordman’s.  He wondered if they stocked waders in Lex’s size. 

Lex rocked back on his heels and watched the action in the football field down below.  Whitney was running the field acting as temporary quarterback for the Metropolis Sharks.  It was amazing what working three phones and a little dedication could get a man.  When Clark had called a couple of days ago with his idea to cheer up Whitney and his father after their scare, Lex didn’t bother to try and explain how difficult his friend’s request was.  His father owned the Metropolis Sharks and Lex had learned the fine art of strong-arming from him.  Calling his plant manager in, Lex shunted his most immediate tasks onto Gabe Sullivan.  Then fueled by a desire to win another one of Clark Kent’s bright smiles, Lex went to work to cajole, persuade and convince the Sharks to insert a special practice in their schedule *and* to let a fifteen year old take the quarterback spot. 

Watching from one of the side ramps, Lex was surprised when Jonathan Kent joined him. 

“That’s a really nice thing you’ve done for the Fordmans.” 

Lex was surprised.  The last thing he expects was praise from the older man.  He responded with a smirk that in any other man would have been categorized as a shy smile.  “Thanks, Mr. Kent.  That means a lot coming from you.”  Lex paused for a minute before continuing.  “I just want you to know that I closed the book on that day at the bridge.” 

The unexpected change of subject was a surprise but Jonathan took it in stride. 

“Why’d you investigate it in the first place?” 

Thinking that it was time to honest since it appeared that Clark’s father was pleased with him, Lex focused on the field.  “That day was a miracle.  Haven’t you ever wanted to find out why things like that happen?” 

Jonathan knew what was at stake and he would never risk his son’s secret.  Although he understood Lex’s viewpoint he could not let that sway him.  “No, I just accept the fact that they do.  You don’t need an explanation for everything, Lex.” 

Sighing heavily Lex said, “Yeah, sometimes I should just leave well alone.”  Lex turned and began to walk down the ramp.  He didn’t need to see how his work had benefited Clark.  Lana had just leaned toward Clark and kissed him.  “Tell Clark I’ll be in Metropolis next week and he should enjoy the fishing trip.  You, too, Mr. Kent,” Lex finished politely.  Lex planned to find a couple of blond blue-eyed young men, no dark hair or green eyes, and lose himself in their arms.  He needed to have some sex in his recent past before he faced Clark again.  The last thing Lex wanted was to even give his young friend any hints as to how he really felt about him. 

From his seat next to Lana in the bleachers Clark noticed his father talking to Lex.  He planned to give them a few minutes before he joined them. 

Following his gaze Lana also noticed the two men talking.  “How did he get the Metropolis Sharks to do it?” 

Returning his attention to the field and answered the question.  “When your father owns the team, I think it’s easier to pull some strings,” Clark guessed. 

Lana shook her head in disbelief and mused, “It’s strange.  All this time, I thought Lex never even liked Whitney, and then he goes and arranges all this.” 

“Nah, I think Lex feels he’s become a part of our lives,” Clark countered. 

Lana looked at Lex and Jonathan, and then down at the football field where Whitney was running with the ball.  She turned and caught Clark’s gaze.  “I’d like to believe that, but you asked him didn’t you?” 

Shooting a glance to his father and Lex, Clark chose his words carefully, “Being friends with Lex Luthor can be complicated, but it has advantages.” 

Lana wondered if Clark was truly as clueless as he appeared.  Near as she could tell, Lex thought the sun traversed the heavens because of Clark.  She leaned across the seat and kissed her friend’s cheek. 

Surprised, Clark stared at her.  “What was that for?” 

Grinning impishly, Lana answered, “Just for you being you.” 

Clark turned and saw his father standing a few steps up in the empty bleachers.  Lex was nowhere in sight.  Making a decision he stood and went to join his father.  Standing next to Jonathan, Clark exchanged a smile with his father. 

“Dad, I’m sorry.  What I said, it –" 

Hearing his son’s apology, Jonathan rushed to speech.  “Clark, the fishing trips, they never had anything to do with fishing.  It was just that I wanted to spend some time with my son.  My dad and I, we saw each other every day, but we never really talked.  I just don’t want history to repeat itself.” 

Clark nodded in agreement, “That makes two of us.”  

A comfortable silence rested between the two.  Getting his thoughts in order, Clark began casually, “Dad, I hope you don’t mind but I’d like to invite Lex to join us on our annual fishing trip.” 

Before Jonathan could speak, Clark continued gesturing at the plays being called in the field below them.  “This is a great thing he did for all of us, especially for Whitney and his dad.  Also he told me something that convinced me that I should go fishing with you instead of going to the Sharks game next weekend.” 

Swallowing his automatic castigation of all things associated with Luthor, Jonathan asked, “What did he say?” 

“He told me that he envied the limits that you put on me.  Could you believe that all his father did was tell him, ‘Don’t get caught and Don’t cause a scandal.’”  Clark’s tone was scandalized. 

Jonathan could not help the tiny nod of agreement at Clark’s words.  It appeared that his son was finally beginning to understand how corruptible the Luthors were.  However, that did not mean that he wanted to spend the weekend with Lex Luthor.  His opinion didn’t matter though.  Clark had agreed to give up the game and go fishing with him next weekend.  Knowing that Lex had performed a true act of kindness for the Fordmans – Jonathan could not even imagine how the young man had managed to get the Sharks to the tiny Smallville field during a hectic season – then he could be magnanimous and agree to have the young man join them. 

“As long as Lex isn’t busy, then sure, he can come with us.  But he just mentioned he was going to be in Metropolis for the week.” 

Clark’s triumphantly shouted ‘Yes’ made Jonathan wonder just what he had agreed to.  Somehow he knew that Lex was not going to be in Metropolis next weekend but he would be spending the weekend swatting flies and baiting lures. 

“Son, when you invite Lex, you be sure to tell him about the mosquitoes and the flies and the apparent lack of fish at our fishing spot.” 

A huge grin lit up his face as Clark said, “It doesn’t matter what I tell him, he’ll still come.” 

Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, Jonathan asked baldly, “Why?” 

“Don’t you understand, dad?  Lex wants more of this stuff – family stuff like fishing trips and other stuff.  Maybe it’s because he didn’t have a lot of that with his father.  Also, he really wants to get on your good side.” 

Jonathan was floored, “Err…OK.” 

His son sped off, presumably to find Lex, leaving Jonathan Kent with a lot to mull over. 

Clark switched to X-ray vision once he left his father.  He spied Lex’s skeleton moving slowly along the hallway leading to the parking lot.  Using super-speed, Clark rescued the package he had hidden earlier that evening. 

Slowing to human speed when he was within a few paces of Lex, Clark called out “Lex.  Hey Lex.” 

The bald headed young man turned around.  A smirk tugged at his lips as he saw Clark rushing up to him holding a rectangular Fordman’s box.  

“Yes, Clark?  I trust you were happy with my arrangements.” 

Beaming at his friend, Clark said, “Yeah, it was perfect.” 

“So…” Lex prompted. 

“Here, this is for you.” 

Storm clouds began to gather behind Lex’s features.  “I didn’t organize this to–" 

Clark interrupted him, “Lex I would never and I could never give you a gift to repay what you’ve done tonight.  But this, is actually something you need.” 

Looking at the box dubiously and wondering what Fordman’s carried that would be something his wardrobe needed; Lex took the box from Clark.  Tugging at the colored twine wrapped around the package, Lex made quick work of opening the box.  In it was black rubber. 

Lex was jolted out his calm.  Kinky thoughts assailed him.  He didn’t dare look at Clark knowing that his need was clearly written across his face. 

“It’s waders, Lex.  Dad and I want you to join us next weekend.  I’m supposed to tell you about the mosquitoes and flies but I thought about that.  See?”  Taking the stunned look on Lex’s face for agreement, Clark pulled out the rubber waders.  Resting beneath the waders was a truly hideous plaid hat and two cans of ‘Deep Woods Off’. 

Lex was touched, disappointed but touched, nonetheless.  Swallowing around the fist sized lump in his throat, Lex croaked, “Thanks Clark, I’d be honored to come fishing with you and your dad.” 

Looking at the older man, Clark came to a sudden decision.  He had been willing to give Lex time but Lex looked so adorable and befuddled he couldn’t resist.  “Lex?” 

“Yeah, Clark?” 

“The fishing trip isn’t thanks for the Sharks and neither is this stuff.” 

Lex’s expression was quizzical, “No?  Then what is?” 

“This is.”  And stepping into Lex’s personal space, Clark leaned down and licked the scar on Lex’s upper lip gently.  The soft gasp from Lex allowed Clark to sweep in and deepen the kiss. 

And Lex heard Jonathan Kent’s words echo in his mind.  Sometimes you just have to accept the miracles that life hands you.

END.