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February 29th

After checking his watch and thinking over his schedule again, Lionel stepped into the laboratory and closed the door behind him. It wouldn't do if people started to look for him, but there was time before the first meeting. Time for this.

His gaze took in the general equipment, cables, machines, a small table and the two chairs beside it. One supposedly just a comfortable chair for a watcher, or scientist at rest, the other an examination chair with cuffs to keep a patient still, even one with as much strength as Daryl Strand possessed. The cuffs were impregnated with just enough meteorite dust to keep that special mutant under control. Lionel grinned. Thinking of the times that Strand had sat in that chair, giving his scientists blood and tissue samples, so that they could find an antidote against the man's 'allergy' which made him less the perfect bodyguard that he would be otherwise. Lionel knew, of course, that his safety wasn't really important to Strand, while getting rid of this weakness was. But then, Lionel didn't exactly mind the fact that his bodyguard wasn't totally invulnerable, either. On the contrary, after having seen Strand catch a sniper's bullet in flight without getting a scratch, Lionel found it very reassuring to have discovered something that would hurt the man.

At that thought, Lionel walked over to a lead box and took out a green bar. With that in hand he walked towards the comfortable chair and sat down in it. Just as he would do this afternoon – if he decided to go through with his plan – apparently just a watcher but in truth very much involved. Depositing the bar on the table, he pulled out a small tape recorder and put it next to it. He pushed the 'play' button, took the bar and leaned back to listen to the voices coming from the tape.

-"Mr. Luthor sent you, right?"- That voice belonged to Eric Summers. -"He promised to get me out of here, if I tell him everything I know about Clark Kent."-

-"Yes, Mr. Luthor sent me."- That was Beacon. -"And he would like to hear again, how you got your powers, Eric, and exactly how Mr. Kent was involved."-

-"Okay. We were out on a field trip, rock gathering. My father thinks that's important." A snort made clear what Eric thought about it. "Anyway, I was feeling low, really low, rock bottom, and decided to make an end. I stood on the dam, looking down, wondering if I should jump or not, and then Clark-fucking-Kent was there, trying to save me. Next thing I know, I get hit by lightning. Wow! Kaboom! And then I had these powers. I was strong and fast. It was cool."-

-"And Clark Kent?"- Beacon inquired.

-"What about him? I dunno. He was all right, too. I really didn't get it at first, that he had anything to do with my powers. I thought it was the lightning. But then he was always in my face, talking about how to use these powers. He really got on my nerves. So I tried to kill him. Stupid thing to do, really. I mean I wanted to fry him with a cable from the power station and instead I transferred my powers right back to him. And then the police appeared, and I found myself here in this nice little place. Just because Clark wouldn't leave me alone."-

-"So, all you need for a transfer is Clark Kent and enough energy? What about the meteor rocks? You mentioned them before."-

-"Oh, that. I'm not sure. I mean, the first time I think I had a meteor rock in my bag, and maybe in my hand. And Clark had something in his hand at the power station. But yeah, when we did the transfer in the basement here he did have a meteor rock on him, I mean, I stuffed that thing in his shirt. It's the only thing that holds him down. At least the only thing we knew of."-

-"With 'we' you mean..."-

-"Van, Ian and me. Van found out about it originally, while he was doing his mutant hunting."-

-"I'm surprised he told you and especially your friend Ian. Wasn't Ian a mutant?"-

-"Yes, and Van didn't like us one bit. But he hated Clark more, so he helped us."-

-"As far as I know, Van is dead."-

-"Yes. Sports accident."-

-"As is Ian."-

-"Clark threw him against a wall. He broke his neck. So you see, I've every reason to hate Clark Kent. So, if Mr. Luthor needs any help..."-

Lionel smiled. Today’s youth. So eager.

-"Mr. Luthor will certainly contact you."- The scraping of a chair could be heard. -"I think that's all for today, Eric."-

-"What about my release? When will I get out?"-

-"Be assured, Eric, your time in Belle Reve is as good as over."- A click, and the rest of the tape was just static.

Pressing the 'stop' button, Lionel frowned. He really should have talked to the boy himself. Or at least have listened to the tape earlier. Of course he had read the report, but Beacon had forgotten to ask some important details, and unfortunately Eric Summers had a deadly run in with another inmate, so he couldn't be asked anymore.

What about Clark Kent's weakness? Did it transfer to Eric with the powers or did it stay with Clark? Eric hadn't said anything about it. So Lionel had to guess. After all, he couldn't just walk up and ask the Kents, could he? The idea amused him. Still, he knew better than to stir a hornet's nest without good reason. Which was also why he had decided to try out that power transfer with Daryl Strand and not with Clark Kent.

Having found Strand had made the Kent boy and his secret less important. Since they obviously shared the same powers and weaknesses there was no doubt in Lionel's mind that the boy was just another mutant. A part of him was disappointed, for he had actually hoped that there was more to the boy than that, but Strand’s appearance had put paid to that belief.

With an internal shrug, Lionel stood and put the green bar back in place. Eric hadn't given the meteorite rocks much credit for the transference, but then he had just been a stupid boy. Lionel was certain that these stones were the most important ingredient besides the voltage, and so were his scientists. Kent was expendable. Very probably any mutant power could be transferred that way. The possibilities were numerous.

Once more, Lionel weighed up the danger and the benefits of his project against each other. If it worked as planned, by tonight he would have Strand’s strength and speed and be invulnerable to bullets, cars, and very likely anything else an assassin would use against him. If the weakness to the meteor rocks was tied to the powers rather than the genes then he would have one weakness instead of a lot. It seemed an acceptable risk. After all, nobody but him seemed interested in those rocks and he could make sure to collect all of them and then get them to a secure place where they couldn't do him any harm.

And if the experiment failed, which was a possibility, since Lionel was not prepared to risk being killed by high voltage – and thus had his scientists work around the point where he would come in contact with electricity directly -- then nothing was really lost. There was the chance that he would have an enraged bodyguard, but him he could control. And if he had to get rid of him permanently, then nothing was really lost, either – nobody would miss Strand. And there was always Clark Kent...

Lionel nodded. The gain was worth a few risks. But first, his meetings.

Dar-El palmed the small tetrahedral crystal in his hand as he walked into one of LuthorCorp's many secret laboratories. Having super-hearing definitely came in handy; he had been aware of Lionel Luthor's plan to steal his 'mutant' powers almost from the beginning. While Luthor harassed his scientists to come up with safe ways to gain access to his powers, Dar-El had conceived his own plan. The crystal he had brought back from Siberia was the only thing he really needed to counteract the human's deception. Yes, there would be a power transfer this afternoon, but not in the way his 'boss' envisioned it.

Luthor gave him an eager smile as he saw him. "Strand, finally. Are you prepared?"

"Yes," he simply said.

"Good, good. My scientists assure me they have come up with a certifiable way of curing your... er, allergy to the meteor rocks. Please, sit down."

Dar-El sat, silencing a snort at the human's flimsy excuse. He allowed the scientists to restrain his wrists to the chair, resisting the urge to fight against the tight hold. He understood the need for the cuffs; the first time the humans had attempted to draw his blood, his survival instinct had flared up and he had ended up smashing a man's face in. The restraints were a way for the humans to feel safe, to feel they had successfully leashed in his strength.

He glanced around curiously and spotted a small device on the table next to him. He would have believed it to be a laptop, if not for the wires and electronic chips he could glimpse inside with the help of his x-ray vision. The core of the device was made of lead, which probably meant it contained a meteor fragment. So this was the machine that would supposedly drain him of his powers. It didn't look like much, but then again, he knew appearances could be deceiving.

Seeing Lionel Luthor speaking to one of the scientists, he allowed his super-hearing to reach out so he could listen in on the conversation.

"Are you certain this will work?" Lionel asked his lackey.

"Yes, sir. We came up with a machine that will combine electricity with the alien rocks, removing Strand’s powers and transferring them to you, without harming either of you. Also, we isolated the fragment inside the device with lead. If Strand’s allergy passes onto you as well, you'll be protected from its effect. At best, you will feel but only a slight sting."

"You had better be right, Fisher, or the machine will be used again – on you!"

The scientist gulped nervously, but nodded. "It will work, Mr. Luthor. Now, if you'll sit down so we can begin..."

Dar-El watched calmly as the billionaire sat in the second chair. The scientists immediately began to work around them, placing electrodes on their temples and chests, giving the machine one last check before they started. He supposed he should argue, or at least question the other man's presence. After all, if this 'experiment' was designed to cure him, why attach Luthor to the machine as well?

But he was in no mood to delay or play games. And yes, if he was honest with himself, he was also anxious. Too many things could go wrong, especially considering he was dealing with an inferior race.

"All right," the lead scientist said, looking at them. "I'm going to turn the device on... now."

For a moment nothing happened. Dar-El saw Lionel open his mouth -- most likely to rip the scientists into shreds for their failure – when they both heard it. A strange humming sound was coming from the machine, getting progressively louder. Dar-El bit his lip as goosebumps erupted all over his body. It felt like an army of ants was crawling under his skin, making it itch fiercely.

He could feel the current coursing through him, a green glow beginning to envelop him. He watched as the glow expanded to engulf Luthor and realized the machine was working; his powers were being carried over to the human. Knowing now was the time to act, he squeezed the crystal hidden in his hand, praying silently to all Kryptonian deities for it to work.

His hand began to feel warm. The heat slowly spread throughout his body. Shimmering energy began to swirl around him like a mist, before extending and folding around Lionel as well. Faintly, he heard the humans in the room gasp as a blinding burst of white energy flew from Luthor's body, interweaving with the green energy leaving Dar-El's body.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he suddenly lost all sense of balance and shape. For a brief moment he felt weightless, as if floating on air. He cried out as he felt something plunge painfully into his chest and then he knew no more.

'This is heaven,' Clark thought dreamily.

He was lying down on the sofa with his head pillowed in Lex's lap. Lex was reading LexCorp's latest financial reports, while at the same time running his fingers gently through Clark's hair. These quiet moments alone – filled with comfortable silences and soothing touches – were something Clark couldn't do without.

He was the one with the strength, with all the powers and invulnerability, but it was Lex who made him feel safe, sheltered from the outside world. If not for Lana's death, the loss of his voice, and the threat that Dar-El represented, this month with Lex would have been the best in his life. It was strange, feeling so torn; a part of him was devastated by Lana's death, trying to deal with the guilt, knowing he was partly responsible for what had happened. And most days he would give anything to be able to speak again. But deep inside, there was this wonderful sense of contentment, of belonging, that he had never felt before.

Not that everything had been easy. Not being able to speak had made school harder than ever, and hanging out with his friends just wasn't the same. And of course, after the news that he was living with Lex had gotten out, Pete had become distant and angry, resenting him for choosing the friendship of a 'Luthor' over his. As for Chloe, she gave a whole new meaning to 'Twenty Questions'.

Clark turned on his back, looking up fondly at Lex. Maybe it was time he gave Lex a little more of himself. Telling him about his powers wasn't enough, it barely scratched the surface of everything that had happened since they had met.

'Krypton,' he thought, knowing Lex would hear it through their newly strengthened bond.

Lex set the report aside, giving him his full attention. "What?"

'Krypton. That's the planet I come from. It was destroyed before I even reached Earth, in some kind of natural disaster. The meteor rocks, we call them kryptonite. Green kryptonite can hurt me, probably kill me. The red seems to bring out the worst in me.'

Lex nodded. "I thought as much. I read Chloe's article in 'The Torch' about your class rings, how the ruby was replaced by red meteorite fragments. Your behavior at the time was very out of character, to say the least. Anything else you'd like to share with me?" he asked with a smile.

'Um... my name, my real name is Kal-El.'

"And your birth parents?"

'Jor-El and Lara. As far as I know, they died when Krypton exploded.'

"You said your father had plans for you and that even being dead, he wouldn't take no for an answer."

Clark sighed, wondering how he could explain it to Lex. An idea came to him and he grinned at his lover. 'Brace yourself'.

He brought forth every memory he had of his 'talks' with Jor-El, everything about his ship and the caves, pouring them into their link so that Lex could 'see' for himself and understand. When Clark was finally done, Lex was panting, gripping the sofa for dear life.

"That was certainly intense," Lex finally muttered.

Clark gave him a worried look. 'Are you okay? I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have –'

Lex held up a hand. "It's okay, Clark. I wanted to know. And I probably wouldn't have believed it anyway, not if you'd just told me," Lex said with a rueful grin.

Clark hesitated, then sat up so that he was straddling Lex's lap. 'There's something else I want us to talk about.'

Lex placed his hands on Clark's hips, his concern obvious. "What is it, Clark?"

Clark cleared his throat. 'This... thing between us, it's for real, right? I mean, I love you, and you said you loved me...'

"I do love you."

'Cool. Then I want to tell my parents.' When Lex made to protest, Clark stopped him. 'Lex, listen to me. Dar-El isn't going to be here forever. Sooner or later, he's going to make his move. I know we can beat him. And once he's gone, I don't want to go back to the way things were between us, or have to sneak around just to be with you for five minutes. I couldn't take that.'

Lex gave a long, suffering sigh. "Exactly what do you have in mind here? Because I really don't need an encounter with your father's shotgun."

'I wouldn't let Dad hurt you, Lex. If we love each other, it's not fair of them to try to keep us apart. I love them, and they'll always be my parents, no matter what. But if they try to make me choose, they'll lose.'

Lex gave him a stunned look. "Clark, no –"

'Lex, I love you. I've never felt like this before. And Dar-El was right about something he said. My parents, my friends, they will never understand me, what and who I really am. But you do. I belong with you,' he said, desperate to make Lex see he was serious.

Lex released a shuddering breath. "Damn it, E.T.... just when I think I couldn't possibly love you any more..." He rubbed his thumb over Clark's lower lip, arousal flaring instantly between them, magnified tenfold by their bond. "Bed?" Lex asked hoarsely.

'I'm not sleepy,' Clark teased.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Did I mention anything about sleeping?"

Clark shook his head, grinning. 'Just yanking your chain.'

Lex leered. "I can think of better things for you to yank."

'Really?'

Not giving Lex any time to reply, Clark threw him over his shoulder, ignoring all the sputtering protests, and super-sped to their bedroom.

Lionel groaned as he slowly came to. He was going to kill Fisher for this. Never before in his life had he felt such intense pain.

"What happened?" It was his voice, although he hadn't actually felt his lips move.

"Oh, sir, you should've seen it," Fisher tittered excitedly. "There was this white light coming out of your body and a green light coming out of Strand’s... They sort of hovered over you both, and then the white light descended right into Strand’s chest and the green into you, and they dissipated. Here, let me disconnect you from the machine." A pause, then, "Sir, did it work? The power transfer?"

There was a loud crushing noise, followed by the sound of something falling to the floor. "Yes, it seems to have worked." His voice again. "I have never been able to rip metal to pieces before."

Lionel frowned; there was something wrong. He could hear himself speak, and obviously he had just destroyed something in the lab to prove his plan had worked. But he could have sworn he hadn't moved or said a word. Perhaps something in the machine had malfunctioned?

He forced his eyes open, realizing he was still sitting down. But... it wasn't his usual chair, it was the one with the restraints. And the cuffs were securely fastened around his wrists. How had he ended up here? If Fisher and his team had pulled some sort of prank while he had been unconscious, he was going to crush the man's balls and feed them to his pet piranha.

He lifted his head, whimpering in shock at the sight before him. He was... No, that couldn't be him, he was sitting down. But... he could see himself, standing by Fisher's side, buttoning up his shirt now that the electrodes were gone. But it couldn't be... because... he was still sitting down.

"Wha..." He tried to speak, but shock had left him too numb. It was impossible to choose one out of the dozens of questions rushing through his mind. "What..."

Fisher looked at him. "What's wrong, Strand? Are you all right?"

"I'm not Strand," he whispered, confused. "I'm Luthor. Lionel Luthor."

Fisher blinked. "He must've suffered some trauma from the transference," he told the other Lionel before turning to him again. "Your name is Daryl Strand, you work for Mr. Luthor. You're his bodyguard, have been for over a month."

Lionel shook his head violently. "No… No! I'm... I'm Lionel Luthor. I don't understand... The machine... it must've done something to me..."

His double laughed. "Honestly, Strand, that is hardly original. I do not know what it is you are after, but it will not work. It is time you faced up to the facts. I win, you lose. Game over."

There was some hidden meaning behind those words and, in spite of his fear and pain, Lionel forced himself to think. He knew who he was no matter what everyone else seemed to think. Obviously his plan had backfired. But how? He looked down at his body, recognizing the clothes he was wearing as the same Strand had on right before the experience. If this was no prank and he was in Strand’s chair, in Strand’s clothes...

"Oh, my God..." he whispered, realizing the truth.

He was trapped inside Strand’s body and Strand was inside his body. Somehow, along with the powers, their minds, personalities, souls -- or whatever it was that made them distinct individuals – had exchanged bodies as well.

"What's wrong, Strand?"

Lionel looked up again, taking in the knowing smirk on the face he was used to see staring back at him in the mirror. "You knew," he said in a hushed breath. "Somehow you made this happen."

Strand shook his head. "I have no idea what you are talking about." He turned to Fisher. "Have someone take him to his room. He obviously needs to rest."

Anson and Byrnes, two of the scientists, released the restraints, freeing Lionel from the chair. Each taking hold of one of his arms, they helped him up, intending on taking him away.

"What are you doing?" Lionel shouted as he struggled to pull away. "Let me go! Let me go! Strand! Strand!"

As he pushed and pulled at the hands holding him, his foot stepped on something, feeling it break under his weight. Looking down, he saw what resembled pieces of green-colored crystal on the floor.

"No!" Strand growled, rushing over to him and grabbing him by his sweater. "Do you know what you have done?"

"This?" Lionel asked, his foot crushing what was left of the crystals. "No idea, but I hope it's bad. This isn't over, Strand. I may be in the wrong body and with no powers, but the game is not over yet."

Strand took a deep breath and stepped back. "Sedate him and take him to his room. I will decide what to do with him later."

"Yes, sir."

Lionel fought against the firm grip on his arms, but it was useless. A syringe filled with liquid was plunged into his vein. Almost immediately he felt dizzy and disoriented, his movements becoming sluggish. Against his will, his eyes began to close. He had enough presence to wonder if he would ever wake up and then he was unconscious.

Dar-El walked into his old bedroom and closed the door silently, leaning against it with a weary sigh. Lionel had had a very important dinner scheduled for that night, with some of the most influential people in Metropolis, and of course Dar-El had been forced to attend. For all intents and purposes, he was Lionel Luthor. If he wanted to evade suspicion and reign over the billionaire's empire, he would have to maintain Luthor's usual routine.

It wouldn't be easy. Earlier, when he had been choosing the clothing he would wear at dinner, he had noticed how his servant kept giving him strange looks. After a few panicked seconds wondering what he had done wrong, Dar-El realized it was his manner of speech. He was still using the formal English style he had learned upon arriving on Earth. And while Lionel Luthor might have some care in the use of his native language, he wasn't that poised while addressing others.

Dar-El had been more careful at dinner, listening and observing, speaking only when necessary, and attempting to sound like Lionel. It had worked, for the meal had been a success. The first hurdle of suspicion had been overcome. He was certain that in time he would develop more ease in this new body.

Turning to matters at hand, he focused on the figure lying motionless on the covers. The real Lionel, imprisoned in Dar-El's body. He had to do something about him. His first thought had been to kill him. Lionel could still be trouble, even without his money and influence to back him up.

But Dar-El couldn't bring himself to destroy his own body. There might be a time when he would need it back, so killing Lionel was out of the question. Nor could he keep Lionel around, trying to thwart his every plan. But there was another way, something Dar-El had come up with, thanks to Lionel himself. He would send 'Daryl Strand’ to the Belle Reve Sanitarium. After all, the poor man was mad, firmly convinced he was Lionel Luthor. The least he could do for his 'bodyguard' was to provide a safe haven for him in which to recuperate. A private room, and no contact with the other residents, would prevent Lionel from talking to anyone.

He smiled at the thought of the headstrong man living in isolation at the institution. It was sure to be a life-altering experience for someone used to having his own way. Besides, Lionel deserved it for smashing the crystal. Without it, transferring back to his old body would take some creative plotting. If it was possible at all; Dar-El wasn't entirely certain. But he was a scientist, and with Lionel's money and resources, he could at least try to find a way.

But for now, Lionel would keep. Dar-El still possessed his powers, and now he had the capital and influence to do as he pleased. Soon he would have this world -- and its inhabitants – at his feet.

He suddenly caught sight of his reflection in a mirror. He touched the face looking back at him, as alien to him as he, himself, was to this planet. Not that he'd had much choice in the matter, but if possible, he would have chosen someone different for the transference. All in all, Lionel Luthor was a handsome man, but perhaps someone a few years younger wouldn't have been amiss. There were too many wrinkles on this new face of his, too many signs of hard living and vices.

It was as if he was someone newly assembled, an alien Frankenstein monster -- the mind of Dar-El, the body of Lionel Luthor. Two parts, one single identity. Perhaps once his plans to rule Earth came to fruition – and if he was unable to return to his own body – he should go by another name, something that embodied his duel being. Maybe... Lion-El? He shook his head with a laugh, wondering if the transference hadn't meddled with his brain.

Laughter was easily replaced with determination. It was time to stop procrastinating, time to take some action. Only three men could prevent him from thriving: Lionel Luthor, Lex Luthor and Kal-El. He would see to Lionel this very night. As for 'Junior' and Kal-El… they could wait until the morning.

March 1st

Lex was pouring over LexCorp's financial reports, which he had neglected the day before in favor of an intense – not to mention long -- bout of lovemaking with his alien, when his father walked into the study, striding in through the double doors like an avenging angel.

Lex leaned back in his chair, regarding his father with an amused smile. "Well, well, well. The prodigal father returns. Run out of drones to harass?" When he received no answer, his father merely pacing the room like a caged animal, Lex said, "By the way, very remiss of you not to attend Lana's funeral, particularly considering your past history with Nell."

"I sent flowers."

Lex frowned at the growled reply. There was something odd about his father today, something he couldn't quite grasp. Realizing that sitting around wasn't going to provide him with any answers, he went right to the point.

"So, what can I do for you, Dad? After a month with no word, I confess I'm curious as to the reason behind this visit."

Cold eyes locked with his, as his father finally stopped pacing. "I came to warn you."

"Oh? About?"

"Me. I want you to keep out of my way. I don't know what you and Kal... Clark are planning against me, but it won't work."

Lex studied the man in front of him while trying to hide his confusion. This conversation wasn't making any sense at all. Not that he didn't like pulling the rug from under his father on occasion, but with everything that had been happening lately, he'd had little time for his father or their usual games.

He had kept an eye on his father, of course, mostly due to his strange association with Dar-El. After all, if Dar-El and his father ever joined forces, it would be disastrous. But except for some wariness, his father seemed to give his 'bodyguard' very little regard, and Dar-El had kept pretty much to himself.

As for the thought of Clark joining with Lex to conspire against the magnificent Lionel Luthor... The idea was too preposterous for words.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lex said.

His father smirked. "Oh, but you do. That's why he's here, with you. Using his body to pay for your protection." He leaned closer, sounding almost conciliatory. "That was a mistake, Lex. Kal-El's mine and no one touches what is mine. Especially a puny little human like you. You have no idea what I'm capable of. I got rid of your father, I killed the Lang girl, and I will destroy anyone who dares to oppose me."

Lex stared wide-eyed at the stranger wearing his father's face, hearing the words, somehow knowing them to be true, while at the same time rejecting their authenticity. Body switching was something you saw in the movies or on TV, not in real life. And yet... how else could he have known Clark's real name, known who killed Lana? And who else would call him a 'puny, little human'?

Lex jumped from his chair, trying to reach for the box of Saint George he kept on the far end of the desk. But Dar-El was faster; he grabbed Lex by the throat and cut off his air supply. Lex clawed frantically at the arm holding him tightly, desperate to breathe.

Dar-El pushed Lex against the desk, shifting his hold just enough to slam Lex face down onto the glass surface. "You will tell Kal-El to come to me. If you don't, I will reduce Smallville to ashes."

"I won't... do it. Clark doesn't... belong to you... never will," Lex managed to gasp out, his cheek pressing painfully against the desktop. "What... you done... my father?"

Dar-El laughed. "Oh, he's alive, don't worry. Although by now, he probably wishes he wasn't."

Lex's eyes focused on the box again. It was closer to him now, well within reach. Using his last ounce of strength, Lex snatched the box, tumbling it open. He grabbed one of the items inside, a piece of kryptonite, and thrust it right under Dar-El's nose. The hand clamped around his neck loosened instantly, before letting go altogether.

Lex managed to push a weakened Dar-El away, then collapsed to the floor, gulping in large quantities of air. When he opened his eyes again, he was all alone.

Lionel prowled the small bedroom he was in, wanting to smash something with his bare hands. How dare he? How dare Strand do this to him? He was Lionel Luthor! No one outsmarted him and got away with it. It might take him months, years even, but he would get even. Daryl Strand would rue the day their paths had crossed.

Waking up to find himself a 'guest' at the Belle Reve Sanitarium had been a shock, although the more analytical part of him had laughed at the irony. At least his accommodations were better than the ones Lex had been given. No windows, but he had a real bed, a nightstand, a small table and a chair. And of course, a bathroom – if you could call it that – with a toilet and a washbasin. He supposed he should be grateful for that, at least.

But he was still trapped in what was essentially a prison, with no way out, no money to grease the right palms, and what was worse, he was in the wrong body. How the hell was he going to convince anyone he was Lionel Luthor, when he looked nothing like his old self?

Taking a deep breath to control the anger threatening to choke him, Lionel slowed his pacing until he was standing by the bed. He needed to calm down, to think clearly, to come up with a plan to escape this madhouse. His muscles slowly uncoiled and he relaxed.

A phone. That's what he needed. By himself he would achieve nothing. But if he managed to call someone, got someone to help him leave this cesspool...

Striding over to the locked door, he banged on it loudly. "Hey! Let me out! I demand to speak to the director! Hey!"

The door opened and a big, burly orderly walked in. "What can I do for you, Mr. Strand?"

"I want to speak with the director."

The orderly grinned wickedly. "He's not available."

Lionel clenched his jaw to keep from snapping at the man. He was certain the director was available, just not for him. Strand’s doing, no doubt. But if trying to bribe the administration was out of the question, then perhaps one of their employees...

He looked shrewdly at the orderly. "I'm Lio... I'm a personal friend of Lionel Luthor. Find me a cell-phone and I'll make sure you get handsomely rewarded for it."

The man snorted. "Try another one, Strand. Lionel Luthor was the one to put you in here. If he was your friend, he wouldn't have done that, now would he?" He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "So, you want a phone, huh? Just how much do you want it?"

Lionel was hard-pressed not to smile. The orderly was caught, hook, line, and sinker. "I want it very much. I meant what I said. Get me the phone and --"

The orderly shook his head. "Nah, nah, nah. It's like this, Strand. I have a cell-phone on me. You can make as many calls as you'd like. And in exchange I want..."

"Yes?" Lionel asked eagerly.

"A blow job for every call you make."

"What?" Lionel reeled back in shock.

"Oh, come on now, Strand. Don't play coy with me. Those long, wavy chocolate locks, those doe-eyes, that hard, muscled body... I bet you've been around, know the score." He leered. "Bet you can suck 'em like a pro."

For a moment, Lionel was too stunned to speak. The phone was his ticket out of this prison, but... having to give at least one blow job to this filthy, disgusting man? Not that he hadn't done just about everything humanly possible in his wild days, but this... Out of the question. He wasn't that desperate.

"No," he said firmly. "I won't do it."

The orderly shrugged easily. "Your loss. My name's Hardy. Call me when you change your mind," he said over his shoulder as he was leaving.

Clark sighed softly as he strolled through the gardens surrounding Lex's mansion. He wanted nothing more than to go back inside and join Lex in the study, but he knew he shouldn't. In the past month, Lex had neglected LexCorp in favor of being with Clark. The company was doing surprisingly well, but Clark was still determined that Lex should spend some time going over his new business.

They were living in the same house; surely a few hours apart every day wouldn't be that difficult. Besides, they had tried being in the same room while Lex worked. They always ended up talking or, as of the last two days, making out or making love. Not that he didn't enjoy those moments – in fact, maybe he was a little too eager. But he knew how important LexCorp was to Lex, and he wouldn't see his lover fail because they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

The sound of a twig breaking had Clark turning around, seeing Lionel Luthor standing a few feet away. What was he doing here? Had the man finally decided to visit Lex, after a month of damning silence? If he was here to see Lex, why come to the gardens, though? And where was Lex?

Clark's heart suddenly began to beat faster. Dar-El was Lionel's bodyguard. If Lex wasn't here and neither was Dar-El... Clark's hearing and x-ray vision reached frantically for his lover. He exhaled slowly, relieved when he found no sign of Dar-El anywhere in the castle. Lex was in the study, leaning against the desk, his breath somewhat ragged. Most likely from trying to keep his anger at bay after one of the usual father-son 'talks' with Lionel.

Reassured that Lex was all right, Clark relaxed. Realizing that Lionel still hadn't said a word, he frowned. He walked over to the older man, nodding slightly as a greeting. That seemed to do the trick, for Lionel smiled faintly.

"Hello, Clark. Always a pleasure to see you. Lex tells me you have lost your voice?"

Somehow Clark doubted that Lex would volunteer that information. Knowing Lionel, he had probably heard it from some other source and was testing its veracity. It still didn't explain what he was doing here, instead of being with Lex. What could Lionel possibly want with him? He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, hoping Lionel understood that as encouragement to speak.

"He can't protect you, you know," Lionel said abruptly.

'What?' Clark thought, shaking his head in confusion.

"Lex. He can't protect you from me."

Clark scowled at Lionel. As annoying and devious as the senior Luthor could get at times, he really was no match for Clark. True, Lionel had come close to discovering his secret on more than one occasion, but that didn't mean Clark actually needed protecting.

Lionel stepped closer. "Not only can't he protect you, he can't give you any of the things I can."

'What things?' Clark mouthed, wondering why he couldn't remember falling down the rabbit's hole. Because this conversation was turning out to be something out of 'Alice in Wonderland'.

"I can give you this world on a platter. All you have to do is ask. I am giving you one last chance. Join me and we will rule Earth together, Kal-El."

Clark recoiled at the sound of his name. 'What the hell?' How had Lionel found out his birth name? And… 'rule the Earth'?

Lionel was practically in his face now, dark eyes capturing Clark's attention. "You are too good for that bald-headed human. You deserve better, you could have better."

Unable to help himself, Clark sneered. 'You?' he mouthed. 'I doubt it'.

Lionel's eyes got impossibly darker. "Sa' hut! You insufferable brat! I'll show you –"

In a swift move, Clark was pulled against Lionel's body and kissed viciously. He tried to wrench away, moaning when he felt the other man's erection rub against his hip, but was kept prisoner with disturbing ease. Clark pressed his lips tightly shut against the tongue determined to invade his mouth, trying to force his hands between them so he could shove his attacker away.

'It isn't Lionel,' the tiny corner of his mind that wasn't panicking told him. Lionel wouldn't know his real name, wouldn't call Lex 'human'. Lionel wouldn't be this strong, wouldn't know Kryptonian invectives. 'Lex!' his mind cried out. 'Lex!'

Lex groaned as he slowly got to his feet, breath still harsh. He leaned against his desk, closing his eyes for a moment, taking time to regroup. Seeing the hate and murderous rage in his father's eyes – even knowing it was someone else -- had left him feeling unbalanced.

He suddenly remembered that Clark was outside, and the blood froze in his veins. What if Dar-El went after Clark? His lover didn't know about the body switch, he had no reason to fear Lionel.

Lex clutched the piece of green kryptonite still in his hand and rushed out of the room. He was already outside when he heard Clark's desperate mental cry. He ran faster, a growl escaping him as he made it to the gardens and saw Dar-El kissing a struggling Clark.

"Let go of him!" Lex snapped angrily.

He advanced on them, arm outstretched, the meteor fragment in his hand. He watched as the rock began to glow a bright green, both Clark and Dar-El falling weakly to the ground.

'Lex...'

Lex heard Clark's moan in his head and grimaced at the pain he was causing him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know any other way to stop him."

He stuffed the kryptonite inside Dar-El's shirt pocket, making sure he wouldn't move. Walking over to Clark, he dragged him far enough away so the rock wouldn't affect him. Brushing his fingers lightly over his lover's cheek, Lex returned to Dar-El, kneeling beside him.

He regarded the man writhing on the ground with a clinical eye. This was his chance to get rid of Dar-El, someone who was a threat to Clark and everyone Lex knew, someone who meant nothing but trouble for the human race.

"You won't kill me," Dar-El breathed, obviously in pain. "Kill me and… you destroy your father's... body. Kill me... and he will be lost... to you."

"Where is he? What have you done? How did you manage to exchange bodies?"

Dar-El smiled feebly. "Release me and he... will live," he said instead.

"You expect me to believe you?"

"Do you... have any other choice? He's alive... for now. In my body. If I live, he... lives. If I die..."

'Let him go,' Clark's voice resonated inside Lex's mind. 'I wouldn't mind seeing Lionel pay for his crimes, but not like this. Let him go, Lex.'

"We may not have another chance like this," Lex counteracted faintly, ignoring Dar-El's puzzled frown.

He didn't want to do this either. As conflicted as his relationship with his father was, as much as he sometimes wished his father dead... He couldn't do it.

'We will. Dar-El won't give up his mad plans to rule the world. We need to figure out what he did, how come he still has his powers, in spite of being in a different body. We need to find your father. Dar-El hasn't won yet.'

Lex sighed, knowing that Clark was right. He removed the rock from Dar-El's pocket and got up, moving away from the pain-writhing man. He was careful to keep away from Clark as well, not wanting to cause him further harm.

"We're not done," Lex told Dar-El.

Dar-El gave him a curt nod. "No, we're not."

A rush of air and he was gone.

March 2nd

Lex suppressed the urge to hit his laptop and rubbed his tired eyes instead. He knew there was nothing more to do than wait, that he had already followed every idea, contacted every source he could think of – by phone or net -- to find his father, or rather 'Daryl Strand’. He had started to investigate soon after Dar-El-turned-Lionel had left. Not immediately though, because damage control had to come first, meaning in this instance a distraught teenager who'd felt both shocked and guilty by the body exchange.

Remembering yesterday Lex looked in fond exasperation at Clark, who currently lay on the couch, officially dozing, but in truth watching Lex and brooding. Clark's ability to act strong and mature during a crisis only to revert back afterwards to teenage angst and insecurity was as charming as it was irritating.

It had taken Lex the better part of last evening to stop Clark from running immediately to his parents. While he understood Clark's worry for his family, Lex was certain that they were safe as long as Clark stayed away from them, and felt proven right by Dar-El's actions. Of course, once he had convinced his lover, he had the whole discussion with said lover's father -- only less civilized – on the phone again. It had been draining to say the least, but finally Jonathan had agreed that Dar-El could still be around somewhere waiting and that Clark shouldn't risk meeting him alone.

Now, that argument wouldn't hold up today, since Lionel Luthor was currently at LuthorCorp, as Lex's informants had told him, and if Dar-El wanted to keep up appearances, he had to stay there for a while and be available. Not that Lex planned on telling Jonathan that fact, but he was afraid that his young lover or maybe Martha might think of asking, and he knew he wouldn't lie to them. He almost wished he hadn't called the Kents yesterday, but they had to be warned, and since he didn't want Clark to go over...

Lex sighed. His life was a sitcom. With science fiction interludes. Or actually more the other way around, like Babylon 5, though from the things happening in Smallville he found Star Trek more fitting. Minds in the wrong body! The Kents had been more than skeptical and Lex couldn't fault them for it, he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it, either. But then again, their son was an alien, and was switching bodies really so much more extraordinary than a girl-shapeshifter or a boy who could double himself? He didn't think so, and from what he had learned from Clark about him losing and regaining his powers, there were few things Lex thought of as impossible anymore.

The phone rang and Lex turned eagerly towards it, just to groan when he saw the caller-ID. Not again. Jonathan had already called twice today, the first time at such an ungodly hour that Lex had felt justified telling him that Clark was still asleep as was Lex himself and that he should call again later. He had not waited for a reaction before ending the connection, mostly because he'd been afraid Clark would make some noise and betray where exactly he was sleeping, but also because he'd really been tired. The second had been a repeat of yesterday’s conversation and Lex didn't doubt for a moment that this would be a repeat of that. He would have left it ringing, except he knew that if he did he'd have the Kents over in ten minutes flat, old car not withstanding.

"Luthor," he knew he sounded brisk, he felt that way.

-"Lex, it's Martha."-

"Mrs. Kent, did something happen?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Clark peeking up. If he hadn't been before, he was listening in now for sure.

-"No, nothing. I just wanted to know if everything was okay over there, if Clark is all right or needs anything, or if you thought of something?"-

He had to give the Kents points for tactics, but though he liked Martha, he didn't appreciate her implying that he couldn't take care of Clark or that he wouldn't call if something was wrong with her son. Anger flared. Did the Kents think he had nothing better to do than talk to them? Did they have nothing better to do?

"Mrs. Kent, with all due respect, Clark is fine. As fine as he was... 43 minutes ago when I talked to your husband. I'm sure if something changes you'll be the first to know." The expression on Clark's face made him add, "He says, he loves you, and we'll call later again," before wishing her a "Good day," and putting the receiver down.

Clark stared at him. 'That was rude!'

"Your parents calling again? I agree."

'No! You!' Clark sat up. 'You just hung up on her.'

"They called twice before; what news did she think I'd have?" 'Great, I forgot he's a mama's boy,' Lex thought, glad that Clark couldn't read his mind.

'That was my dad.'

"Yes, and I bet he was standing right next to the phone just now, listening in."

A light blush covering Clark's cheeks made Lex wonder if his lover had heard something over the phone that Lex hadn't.

'They are my parents, Lex. They’re naturally worried.' At least the anger was gone. 'Maybe I should go over. Just for a while.'

"Clark." Lex sighed. "We already had that discussion."

'I know.' Clark looked dejected all of a sudden. 'But I haven't visited them in days, and with all that has happened... Maybe they just need to see for themselves that I'm okay.' It wasn't said, but a feeling of longing accompanied that thought, clearly signaling 'And I need to see them, too,' to Lex.

'Because they don't trust my word,' Lex added silently. He guessed he was probably being unfair; after all, what did he know of a loving family, of what was normal worry and what was overbearance? But he couldn't help remembering that Clark hadn't been that interested in going home before Dar-El had shown up. He had seemed content and happy with only the two of them. 'And what happened to 'I belong with you'?' Lex wondered, then cringed at how needy and ungrateful that sounded. 'God, Clark is only a teenager. A teenager who wants to tell his parents that he loves me, despite them disliking me. And they love him. I'd want to see for myself, too, that he was okay, if I were in their shoes.'

Leaving his desk Lex was in front of Clark in three strides. "I'm sorry, E.T.. Sometimes I forget how hard this all must be for you. Dar-El, your friends, your parents and now me, everyone expecting something from you. I should cut you some slack."

'I'm not a child!'

It was all Lex could do to not roll his eyes. 'A teenager -- cut him some slack,' he reminded himself. "I know that, Clark. All I was saying is that there's a lot going on right now, and all of us are under stress, but you must feel like you're drawn and quartered with everyone wanting a piece of you. And I wanted to apologize for that. I should help you, not add to your problems."

He knew he'd said the right thing when Clark smiled and pulled him into a hug. 'You're helping, Hungry Eyes. You're the best.'

Lex grinned at the use of his nickname. "Do I look hungry to you?"

'Always,' Clark answered and kissed him.

The phone interrupted them. To Lex's relief, it wasn't the Kent number showing up, but one of his informants at LuthorCorp, telling him that Daryl Strand had been to the laboratories yesterday, at the same time as Lionel, but hadn't been around since then. Some rumors were going on about a lab accident and Strand being under treatment, but nothing conclusive.

Disconnecting, Lex turned to Clark. "I guess my father had something going on down there and it went wrong, or backfired. Probably due to something Dar-El did, but that's just a feeling. The bodyswitch could have been an accident, we both know that my father has kryptonite and does experiments with it, and those rocks seem to be able to inspire all kinds of things."

When he didn't get an immediate reaction, Lex took a closer look, Clark seemed to stare at something on his desk. "Clark? Something wrong?"

'Why do you have that kryptonite piece in that box?'

The question seemed like a non sequitur to Lex. "Because it comes in handy when evil aliens from Krypton try to kill me or my lover?" From Clark's expression, Lex could tell that being flippant had been a mistake. "What do you want me to say? We need it to protect ourselves from Dar-El, you know that."

'But why in that box?'

"Because it's lead." He really didn't know what Clark was going on about.

'But you had it in there before you knew about Dar-El, didn't you?'

"Yes." That was true, almost immediately after he'd gotten the box back from Lana, he had put the kryptonite in it.

'Why?'

"Why not? Come on, Clark, you know I was, still am obsessed with you. I gave you a tour of the mansion after all. The rocks were a part of your secret, a part of you, I had to study them."

'But you knew they hurt me!'

"That's why they are in the box!" He was weary of the inquisition. "Look, a rock is something tangible, something I could touch. I'd probably have made a keychain or a ring with it, just to have something of you, if I could've worn it around you. Since I couldn't, I wanted it near at least. I couldn't very well put the Porsche up here, could I?"

He could see and feel that Clark wasn't convinced, but before he could say more the phone rang again, this time it was the Kent farm. "Your parents," he groaned.

'I guess I better go see them.'

"Very mature." Lex had barely realized that he'd said that aloud when Clark was already at the door to the study.

'If you say so.'

"Clark, I didn't mean --"

'You know where you can find me.'

Then Lex was alone. Alone with a ringing phone. Two ringing phones – someone was calling his cell-phone. Hurriedly, he grabbed the receiver and without waiting to know which Kent was there snarled: "He's on his way, get rid of the necklaces." He heard a female voice swearing then a click.

He breathed deeply to calm himself. Clark would be all right and they'd get over this. His alien just needed a little time out.

Turning to his cell-phone, he frowned as he saw the unidentified number on the display. He was good at remembering numbers and usually could tell immediately who was calling, especially since only a selected group of people were supposed to know this number, but this one didn't ring any bells, so to speak. Mentally slapping himself for the bad pun, Lex took up the cell-phone and pressed a button.

Déjà vu.

For the second morning in a row Lionel found himself pacing his room, furious at Strand, himself and the world in general. He wasn't going to make it, he knew that. Being in isolation, without seeing anyone, without speaking with anyone. It would kill him. Or at least drive him mad, which again, would be ironic. Because who else would end up in a mental institution before going crazy?

It might not have been so bad if he had a television set, or books, or anything else to entertain himself. As it was, with nothing to do, his mind kept going back to Strand. He wanted the mutant bastard to pay for this, he wanted to make him suffer. And who knew what the hell the man was doing with Lionel's body. By now Strand could have sold half of LuthorCorp's companies and lost most of his hard-earned fortune.

Lionel had to do something. He was consumed with a burning desire for revenge and he would stop at nothing to get it. It was beneath him but desperate times called for desperate measures and he resigned himself to trading sexual favors to achieve his first move. His doublecrossing bodyguard would pay. Painfully.

Lionel banged on the door with his fist. "Hardy! Hardy! I need to speak to you!"

He stepped back as the door opened a few seconds later and the orderly walked in, a bright smile on his round face. "Changed your mind, Strand?"

"Yes," Lionel gritted out, wanting to snap the man's neck instead. "Give me the phone."

Hardy laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, nah, nah. Blow job first, Strand. Not that I don't trust you or anything, but..." He closed the door behind him, locking it. "There. No one will bother us now."

Lionel didn't speak as he watched Hardy drop his pants and underwear, a shiver running down his spine as the man began to stroke himself, crooning and moaning as he did so. He covered his revulsion as Hardy continued to fondle his now fully erect cock, swinging his hips back and forth in a parody of sex.

He thought briefly about trying to overpower Hardy. After all, it wouldn't be too difficult now, and the orderly was all fat, no brawn. Then again, Hardy was holding an electrostick in his free hand, and Lionel knew the damage those things could do. And the building was probably crawling with further security, which meant he would never make it far.

As unpleasant as it was, humoring the son of a bitch was the only viable solution at the moment. Of course, once Lionel managed to leave this place, Hardy would regret this. Deeply.

Glazed eyes focused on him with evident difficulty. "Suck me," Hardy ordered.

Lionel thought he was going to vomit as he knelt down in front of the man, the overwhelming smell of urine and unwashed skin making him nauseous. He knew what he had to do, but instinct still had him trying to pull away as Hardy's thick shaft nudged his face. He didn't go far; Hardy grabbed him by the hair, his grip painful.

"Ah, ah! Too late to go back now, Strand. Suck me, boy, or you'll regret it. And no funny stuff with your teeth. You bite or scratch and you'll be in this room for the rest of your miserable life."

Hardy thrust forward and Lionel's mouth was invaded. For a moment he couldn't breathe, thought he was going to choke, the hand holding him securely by the nape of the neck making it worse. Old memories resurfaced, and he began to service the orderly, using every trick he remembered to bring the man off as rapidly as possible.

"Oooohh..." Hardy moaned. "Knew you'd be good... Use your tongue... Harder, deeper... Oh, yes... Oh, God, oh, God, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna... Yes!"

Lionel swallowed as Hardy came in his mouth, the hand still holding him tightly giving him no other choice. As soon as he was released Lionel wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, in a vain attempt to remove the foul taste. His stomach was churning and he felt like taking a shower to cleanse himself.

"Not bad," Hardy said, once he had gotten his breath back. "Don't take this the wrong way, Strand, but I hope it takes you a lot of calls to get out of here." He took a small cell-phone from his pocket, throwing it on the bed. "You have ten minutes. Enjoy," he said, chuckling to himself as he left the room.

Lionel picked up the phone with trembling fingers, trying to put the degrading act at the back of his mind. Now that he had achieved his first goal, he needed to decide who to call. Taking a moment to go over the list of numbers he remembered, he made his choice.

Mentally crossing his fingers, he dialed the number and listened to it ring on the other end.

"Clark? Clark, are you up there?"

With a sigh Clark sat up on the couch in the loft and looked towards the stairs. He had hoped to have some more time to himself, without parental guidance, but obviously that was not to be. At least his father wasn't there, as implied by the absence of their truck, though Clark did wonder where his father would be at this hour. Usually he would be at a field nearby, not to mention that only a little while ago he'd stood next to the phone, listening in on Lex's and Martha's conversation.

"Clark, are you up there, honey?"

'Yes, Mom,' he thought. Realizing how ironical it was that he'd wanted so bad to get over here that he'd even fought with Lex about it, but now didn't really want to see his parents at all. Or rather didn't want to listen to them giving him advice and their opinions on how he should live his life. He knew they meant well, but they didn't understand, and they didn't know Lex like he did...

"Clark?" Steps on the stairs.

'I'm here!' he thought again, then realized his mistake. He was so used to Lex hearing his thoughts that he had just assumed his mother would as well. He stood and walked toward the railing, looking at her.

'I'm here, Mom, I'm fine,' he tried again, wondering if maybe it would work once he could see her. But even though they had eye contact now, he could tell she didn't receive his mental message. So much for Lex's theory that Clark's new powers worked with people who were either close to him or meteorite mutants. It might have worked that way with him sending emotions, but his thoughts seemed to be for Lex alone.

"Are you all right, Clark?" his mother asked as she came to stand before him.

He nodded, disappointed and yet not that she couldn't hear him. It would have been so much easier if she could, true, but then again it made his connection to Lex all the more special. And it made the hurt he'd felt when leaving the mansion all the more painful. What they had was unique, their bond one of a kind, and yet they had fought. Everything had been perfect up to then, but now...

"Sweetie, do you want to come to the kitchen and talk about it?"

He looked at his mother uncertainly. Did he want to talk about it? At least being unable to speak would make sure that she couldn't get anything out of him he didn't mean to say or rather write, but it still would mean admitting that there was a problem. 'Duh! She already knows that by just finding me here.' He managed a smile, wondering if it looked as unhappy as it felt.

Obviously it did, for she embraced him and patted his back in her very motherly way, making him feel six years old. "It's going to be all right, Clark," she promised.

He swallowed. At six he had believed her, at six it had been true. At seventeen he knew better. Knew that love wasn't a cure for all and could hurt as well as... He interrupted himself and took a step back, gesturing at her neck, mouthing: 'Necklace?'

She shook her head at him. "Would I come near you with a kryptonite necklace on me? I put them safely away once Lex said you were coming over. Actually, he told me to do it, as if I wouldn't think of it myself." She turned back and began descending the stairs.

Of course. She'd been calling, and Lex would have warned her and made sure to remind her, especially as they'd been talking about kryptonite just the second before.

"As if I'd hurt you," he heard her mutter as he followed her down.

Obviously his mother was pretty upset with Lex, but then she didn't really get how important Clark's safety was to Lex. That he would never do anything to hurt him, not on purpose anyway. That thought made Clark stop in midstep. He wasn't aware that he was hovering over the stairs as he examined the thought from all sides and then remembered his last discussion with his lover.

Lex really hadn't understood why knowing that he had green kryptonite in Saint George's box on his desk was disturbing to Clark. It wasn't so much the point of Lex owning and storing kryptonite – if he'd put it in that room with all the other things Lex had collected about Clark and his family Clark'd have understood -- but to put it there. To put something that would hurt Clark into the box that was so special to Lex because it was a gift from his mother – it seemed so wrong. But then a lot of things Lex did seemed wrong to other people, that didn't mean they were wrong for Lex, or for Clark.

People wouldn't understand them being lovers, but it didn't mean it was wrong. And Clark knew his parents would have a fit if they ever saw that one room in the mansion, but Clark had understood that it was just the Lex Luthor version of Amy's little shrine. He couldn't really fault Amy for her fixation on Lex, and he had always known that Lex was obsessing over him.

Really, that wasn't the problem. So what was? Lex had explained why he had the kryptonite there, it was just an extension of his obsession with Clark's secrets. And even if it was more, if it was also a little protection against Clark, could he fault Lex for that? He had hurt Lex often enough, not only under the influence of red kryptonite. It was only smart to have some green rocks around him. Even his father had kept one in the barn after the first time he was out of control.

Something his mother had said suddenly caught up with him and with a 'thud' he connected with the stairs again. He super-sped back to the table upstairs, grabbed a pencil and scribbled something in a notebook. One second later he stood next to his mom and showed her his writing.

"What do you mean necklaces?" his mother read aloud. "Doesn't Dad have his?"

He could tell from her expression that she didn't want to answer, but he held her gaze, suddenly nervous.

She sighed. "When Lex was so rude on the phone, your father decided to drive over to the mansion. Of course he left his necklace here. After all, he expected to meet you there." She reached out and grabbed his arm as if to prevent him from running away. "Didn't you see him on your way here?"

Clark shook his head. He had taken a shortcut and not followed the road. He felt his shoulders sag a little as he realized that his father was at the mansion talking to Lex, or probably shouting at Lex, and he wasn't there to stand at his lover's side. He turned towards the door but his mother's grip tightened.

"Don't, honey. It's between them. You can't interfere."

He wanted to argue, and wished once more for speech, but his mother seemed to know all his points already.

"Lex is a grown man. He can stand up to your father." There was a pause as if she wasn't sure she should say more, but finally she continued. "You know your father doesn't trust Lex, but I don't think you understand why he doesn't. I doubt Jonathan understands, either. But he senses that Lex isn't showing his true colors and that..."

Clark just had to interrupt her, he shook his head widely and started to write in the notebook again, but she stopped him.

"Maybe that was a bad choice of words, I didn't mean to say Lex is lying. I meant that Lex is always holding back at confrontations. I know he does that because he doesn't want to hurt you by hurting us, but your father thinks it means Lex is hiding something. They have to clear the air, and Lex will never speak as freely as he could with you around."

In a weird way it made sense. It didn't make him feel any better though, he still wanted to be there and stand at Lex's side. But his mother was right. If he was there, Lex would behave. 'If we only hadn't fought.' Clark knew his father would want him to come home for good, and maybe now Lex would agree that he should. After all, hadn't Clark as much as said he wanted to return to the farm by running away?

'I'm sorry, Lex,' he thought as intensely as he could. 'I love you. Don't let my father get on your nerves. Just tell him the truth, that I'm safest at your side.' He hoped his lover would hear him, wishing they'd done more tests on his abilities, especially this one. Was he even close enough to Lex to be heard? 'Please call when it's over. I'm really sorry.'

Lex smiled happily as he heard Clark's apology in his mind. Everything was okay. A look into his rearview mirror and his smile became a smirk. He had suspected that the truck following him was Jonathan Kent's, but now he was sure. It seemed the man was determined to speak to him, or maybe he thought Lex was just now taking Clark away to some tropical island or some deep dark dungeon.

"It's time to drive like the maniac you think I am," Lex said, and sped up, knowing very well that the truck didn't have the slightest chance against his Porsche. As his pursuer was shrinking in the mirror, Lex thought about calling Clark, but decided against it. Clark would want to know where Lex was heading and would want to accompany him – and Lex couldn't let that happen. It was hard enough to go there by himself. Clark's feelings of guilt and shame would be too much to bear.

Once more Lex wondered if he wasn't heading into a trap, and if he wasn't an idiot to do this. But then he wasn't exactly unarmed. His hand went to his pocket, making sure he could reach his gun as well as the rock he carried. Human or Kryptonian thugs – he was prepared. And if it was the real thing...

Vividly he remembered the phonecall.

"Luthor."

-"Lex?"-

He didn't recognize the voice. "The last time I checked. And who's there?"

-"It's me, Lex. Your father."-

"Hi, Dad. What happened to your voice? And to your phone number?" While he was goading the man on the other end of the line, Lex was already calculating the odds that it was actually Lionel. "Not to mention that you just left. Did you forget something?"

-"What did he want? You have to be careful, he's dangerous."-

There was something frantic in the voice, but no reaction to the lie Lex had just spouted. "You're warning me that you're dangerous? Nice touch."

-"Lex, listen. I know how it sounds, but I'm your father. The man you just saw was Strand, my bodyguard. He exchanged our bodies and is doing who-knows-what in my name. You have to stop him."-

The voice was wrong, but the tone was all Lionel.

"If you want me to believe that, you have to tell me something only my father would know." It was a classic, Lex just had to ask.

-"Lex, we don't have the time. I need your help."-

"Come on, Dad, give me something."

There was a pause and then: -"It wasn't your fault that Julian died."-

Lex swallowed, but he managed to stay calm. "Something that isn't in my medical records."

-"Lex, I really don't have the time, it's not my phone..."-

"Something." 'Some truth we both know, or a lie we share, come on.'

Silence. Lex could almost imagine how his father was going down memory lane looking for something that would convince and hurt Lex at the same time. More than enough proof really that it was his father.

-"I hired Helen, but marrying you and trying to kill you was her plan. I didn't sanction that. And now come and get me out of here."-

A part of Lex wanted to ask more, to keep the game going a little longer, and he wondered if that made him a masochist, but another part just wanted it over and understood that time was precious. "I'll give you a chance to convince me. Where are you?"

-"I'm sure you’ll like this. Belle Reve."- Lex heard someone whisper in the background. -"Isolation ward. Ask for Hardy, he knows where to find me."-

"I'm on my way."

And that he was. Another look into the mirror. No sign of the truck. Hopefully Jonathan would just give up and drive back home to wife and son. While Lex would have his own family reunion, in a place that had given him nothing but nightmares.

Dar-El let out a sigh as his secretary left with his latest visitor-cum-future partner. Managing the company had looked easier from the sidelines than it was. Of course he could do it, but it was tiresome and boring. He looked at his day planner. Half an hour before the next meeting. More than enough time to run down to Smallville and raise some havoc, except that his secretary would expect him to be here and Lionel Luthor wouldn't be able to get anywhere interesting in that short a time. He snorted. Being a prominent human had its disadvantages.

He regretted yesterday's spontaneous decision to show his hand and make Lex Luthor and Kal-El aware of the change. His plan had been to ferret out what Kal-El and his human sextoy were up to, as Lionel and not as Dar-El, but then he'd gotten carried away. There just was something about Luthor Junior that weakened his control. Only part of it being that the human dared to touch what was his. Dar-El glared into the distance. Still, the encounter hadn't been a total failure. He had learned that his cousin was as susceptible to the green meteorite pieces as he was himself, and that Lex Luthor not only knew about their weakness but also owned at least one rock.

He remembered the pain from the meteorite just as vividly as the feeling of Kal-El's body against his – the boy's fear and useless struggle. Not quite the way it had been between him and Jor-El, but enjoyable nevertheless. There was no way he would give up on Kal-El; he wanted him, wanted that body. He didn't care anymore if his cousin would reign at his side, as long as he had him in his bed – willing or not.

Of course, from what he had witnessed, willing wouldn't be an option. There was an intimacy between Kal-El and his human that clearly went beyond mere sexual relief. There had even been a moment when Dar-El had wondered if Lex was able to read Kal-El's mind, but he had dismissed the thought. That Kryptonians had rudimentary telepathic abilities had been acknowledged by science on their planet for eons, was even embedded in mystical lore, legends. But it was also a fact that science had failed to activate that skill in volunteers. Dar-El decided he was stupid to even consider the notion, because while his cousin might have been the one Kryptonian able to regain that lost power – growing up under a yellow sun – there was no chance that a primitive human brain could harbor the same talent. Reading, or even just receiving, and understanding Kal-El's thoughts was undoubtedly beyond Lex Luthor's capacity.

Pushing the idea aside, Dar-El focused on his immediate problem. He needed to know what Lex Luthor and Kal-El were up to, so that he could put up counter measures. Unless he struck first. Which was really what he preferred. With that in mind he grabbed a folder and acquainted himself with LuthorCorp laboratories' latest developments. There were quite a lot of substances based on the green meteorites with interesting effects on animal and human test-subjects. There were also designs of chains meant to keep the radiation of the green meteorite from anyone but the bearer. Which would mean that if Kal-El wore such a device he would be pliant and helpless while Dar-El himself would not be effected at all. Inspiring. Dar-El glanced at his watch. If he sent someone to Smallville now they could be there within three hours, keeping an eye on his opposition, while he had more than enough time to get everything set up the way he needed it. And hold his meetings.

He smiled, then leaned forward and pushed a button to call his secretary. "I need to speak with Beacon," he told her curtly, already planning the next steps. Kal-El had made a tactical mistake by showing that he cared for his human bed partner. That was a weakness that could easily be exploited, since it was a weakness which Dar-El didn't share.

"I'll knock when I want out," Lex told Hardy bruskly, as he was closing the door to the room. He seemed to be alone, but the sound of the flushing of a toilet told him where the inmate was. Walking through Belle Reve had been like running the gauntlet. During the last weeks he had reclaimed a lot of his lost memories. He couldn't say if it was natural healing or due to the bond he shared with Clark, but it had made the walk through the facility all the more nightmarish. The faces of guards and patients he had met before, the smirks of the former, the apathy of the latter. If his father was here, Lex wasn't planning to free him soon. If ever.

The water stopped and a second later Daryl Strand stepped out of what seemed to be the bathroom. "Lex." Relief was plainly visible on the man's face then an expression of bored indifference replaced it. "You took your time, son."

"Well, Dad, for the first time in my life I can say you look good and actually mean it." Lex grinned.

"Very funny. Stop gloating and get me out of here."

"Why should I?" He had no doubt anymore that this was truly his father and that meant everything was fair game.

"Because there's someone at the head of LuthorCorp and it isn't me. Neither is it you. We have to stop him, show him that nobody takes on a Luthor and wins."

Leaning against the door, Lex looked at his father nonchalantly. "It seems to me that this point goes to Strand. He has LuthorCorp and you have this little place for yourself. But you did come out the more attractive one, if that makes you feel any better."

"It does not."

'I guess it's a good thing he doesn't have Clark's heat vision, or I'd be toast now,' Lex mused, unimpressed by his father's glare.

"He only won one battle, and only because he took me by surprise. That won't happen again," Lionel said, stepping closer.

"You still haven't given me a reason to get you out of here. Maybe the new Lionel is more agreeable to me, maybe I can work things out with him?" Hoping to look as if he was truly contemplating that idea, Lex left the wall and began to walk slowly around. He didn't want the other man too close to him.

"You can't mean that!" Lionel stared at him aghast. "We are family, Lex. You're my son. We have to work together."

'Strange how that only ever comes up when you need my help,' Lex thought, trying not to show how much he still wished that was true. "Going with the 'blood is thicker than water' argument seems a little counterproductive, Dad, since I'm sure right now your DNA isn't related to mine."

He circled Lionel, openly scrutinizing him. "Speaking of relationships, how come your relationship with Strand has so drastically changed?" He really needed to know what his father knew about the other Kryptonian, not to mention how Dar-El had managed the exchange. "How did he get your body?"

"That's not important right now. All you need to know is that my scientists miscalculated some risks – for which they will pay, have no doubt -- and now we've to regain my rightful position and get that mutant out of the picture."

Obviously Lionel wasn't planning to spill any details, probably because the blame could mostly be put at his doorstep. Also it seemed as if his father had no idea what Dar-El truly was, but Lex had to make sure. "Mutant?" he echoed.

"Yes, mutant. As in one of these Smallville freaks. Just like your Kent boy. They are pretty similar actually. You should be careful how close you let that boy get to you. Or you might find yourself where I am now."

'Bad choice of words, Dad. Very stupid.' Lex smiled coldly. "I've been where you are, Dad, don't think I forgot. Which reminds me, I've work to do." With that he turned towards the door.

"You can't leave me here!" Lionel jumped in his way, reaching for him.

Stepping back, Lex held a hand out to ward Lionel off. "Don't get too close. I'm sure Hardy is watching, he might think you're attacking me."

Lionel actually stopped, his gaze flickering to the small window in the door. "I can't stay here, Lex. You have to get me out."

"I don't see why. You're safe here. And as Daryl Strand you won't be any help to me." He could see that Lionel was trying to come up with a convincing argument. Strand’s face was more expressive than Lionel's own had been.

"I know his weakness. I can help you to take him down."

"I'm listening." Lex tried to sound only mildly interested, but knew he'd given himself away, when his father became demanding again.

"I want your promise that you'll get me out of here first."

There was really no reason to give in, his father was very likely speaking about the meteorite rocks, and Lex already knew about them. But if there was even the slightest chance that Lionel knew of something else...

"I promise that I'll get you out of here eventually. The when depends on how good the information is."

Of course it was about the green rocks, and Lex wanted to kick himself for giving in. At least he hadn't given a timeframe. Lionel looked eager, and triumphant, as he added, "Your boy doesn't like those rocks any more than Strand. You might use them to keep him in line."

"If you say so. Goodbye, Dad." Lex walked to the door again.

"Lex, when will I get out?"

"I don't understand why you want out so badly. This is a good place to stay, a fine institution, I think you called it. It's for your own good, Dad. People care for you here, no need to worry. Strand obviously wants his body safe, or he would have killed you already."

"What if he changes his mind, or decides that he wants it back and plans to kill me in the process? I can't protect myself from him. Son, please."

The desperate tone got to Lex, despite all of his hate for his father. And Lionel did have a point. With a sigh, and against his better judgement, Lex pulled the green stone from his pocket and handed it over. "Now you can."

Then he knocked on the door, which was immediately opened by Hardy.

"Lex! Get me out of here. You don't know what I had to do to call you."

Lex looked from his father to the orderly, and remembered what other patients had to endure in Belle Reve, and how he had only been spared because people thought him too dangerous and unpredictable; somehow he couldn't find it in himself to care for his father's plight. "Whatever it was, I'm sure you did it your way."

He stepped out of the room and felt relieved once there was a door between him and Lionel. Slowly he turned towards Hardy. "The man is obviously mentally disturbed, but he's always been most loyal to my father, so I want him secure from other patients. Is that clear?" While talking Lex took a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet.

"Absolutely clear, Mr. Luthor." Hardy nodded, eagerly grabbing the money.

Lex put his wallet away and pushed his hands into his pockets, where his left hand encountered the last item left there, since he had to leave the gun behind to enter Belle Reve. Thoughtfully, he pulled the ring out and looked at it. When he had taken the green kryptonite rock out of Saint George's box, it had been on impulse that he had taken the red kryptonite ring, too, as if it had looked lonely alone in the box. He shook his head at the notion. Now, though, he was loath to just put it back in his pocket again, instead he put it on his middle finger. It sat loosely, but wouldn't come off unless he wanted it to.

"Oh, and," Lex looked at Hardy once again, "if something occurs, he gets special treatment or falls ill, you inform me. And if he gets visitors or makes any other calls I want to know about them, too. I expect that goes without saying." Having said that Lex turned around and started walking towards the exit. He couldn't leave this place fast enough.

'Lex, please call, please.' Clark walked towards the phone for the nth time, wondering how odd it would be if Lex got a silent call on his cell-phone. 'Maybe I could get Mom to talk for me?' But then again he really didn't want her to know what kind of discussion he'd had with Lex, and she'd need to know if she was to apologize for him. Ah, being a mute sucked big time.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture Lex in his mind, hoping his thoughts would reach him. 'Lex, please call. Dad called from a gas station before and said that he was following you, but lost you halfway to Metropolis. Imagine that, he thought you were kidnapping me. He sounded really relieved when Mom told him I was here. As if you needed to kidnap me. I'd go anywhere with you. I hope you know that? Which reminds me. Where are you? Oh, and Dad has decided to wait for you, he seems sure you'll come back today. I hope he's right. So please, be careful when you get to the big intersection – you know which one I mean, and yeah, it's not that big – you really don't want to run into my father, literally.' He stopped as he heard a car pulling into the Kent driveway.

Listening hopefully, Clark couldn't help feeling disappointed, once he realized it wasn't one of Lex's cars. 'Damn.'

Dar-El was wrapping up yet another meeting when his phone rang. He motioned the shareholders away with a careless wave of his hand, reaching for the cellular with the other.

"Lionel Luthor."

-"It's Beacon, sir."-

Dar-El glanced down at his watch. A little over two hours had gone by since Beacon and another of his drones, Schell, had left for Smallville to spy on Kal-El. "You can't possibly have reached Smallville yet, Beacon," he said, an edge of anger in his voice.

The sound of a throat swallowing nervously on the other end of the line was gratifying. Nothing like instilling a healthy dose of fear into those who worked for you. After all, Dar-El was close to being a God compared to humans; he should be feared as such. And Lionel had been very lax in the treatment of his employees. Before changing bodies with the man, Dar-El had never seen enough dread in those around him. Now it was almost a living entity. It was a heady feeling.

-"No, sir,"- Beacon confirmed, a slight quiver to his voice. -"We were halfway there when Schell spotted something... odd."-

"Explain."

-"Well, sir, Schell saw a truck parked on the side of the road right next to the intersection that leads to town. A man was leaning against the vehicle, and I recognized him from the surveillance photos you first showed me when you had me looking into Clark Kent's life."-

"And?" Dar-El prompted impatiently.

-"It's Jonathan Kent, sir."-

Dar-El rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "And he's just parked on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, leaning against his truck?"

-"Yes, sir. We thought it best to inform you. Should we proceed to Smallville as planned?"-

"No. Kent must be there waiting for someone. Someone he didn't want to be seen meeting in town." The human could be helping Kal-El plot against Dar-El. It would be prudent to keep an eye on him. "Keep out of sight, watch him. If he meets anyone, I want to know immediately. Anything unusual Kent does, I want to know. Is that understood?"

-"Yes, sir."-

Dar-El disconnected the call and got ready for his next business meeting. But his mind kept wandering back to Jonathan Kent and his strange behavior. The human had better not be thinking of getting involved in Dar-El's tug-of-war with Kal-El. Otherwise, Dar-El might be forced to show him the error of his ways.

Lex resisted the urge to sigh as he heard Clark's plea for Lex to call him. And that Jonathan Kent was waiting for him on the road ahead. Lex knew he should probably call Clark, to ease his worry, but he wasn't going to. Not yet anyway.

He had wanted to avoid confronting Clark's father, hoping against all hope not to aggravate an already tense situation. But the truth of the matter was that the Kents were driving him crazy, Jonathan in particular. Maybe it was time they had a little heart to heart.

Lex thought about Clark's ability to project his thoughts, and hoped it wasn't something that would vanish once Clark got his voice back. 'If he gets his voice back,' a treacherous voice whispered in his ear. After all, it had been weeks and Clark's condition hadn't changed. He shuddered, refusing to believe he would never again get to listen to that beloved voice.

Instead, he turned his mind back to the range of Clark's thoughts, which as it turned out, was truly amazing. They had never tested it before, but even in Metropolis, Lex had been aware of Clark, a random thought or two reaching him clearly. He knew Chloe was at the farm, that she was probably the only reason why Clark wasn't by his side right now, or with his father, trying to avoid their inevitable altercation. After all, Chloe wouldn't allow Clark to leave without giving him the third degree about where he was going and why.

Lex's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes straying to the red kryptonite ring for a moment. Clark was going to kill him when he found out about it. Especially considering their fight had been about Lex's need to keep a piece of kryptonite with him.

He wished he could explain it better to Clark, make him understand how both stones were a symbol of Clark and therefore he couldn't resist having them close to him. Even if kept within a lead box, so they couldn't hurt Clark. As he had told Clark, the green kryptonite was like a part of Clark himself, something he could touch, study, something that comforted him in those gloomy days when he had been certain their friendship was doomed to fail, either because he would screw up in some way, or because both of them hid too many secrets from the other.

The red kryptonite... That was special. Special in a sexual kind of way. Because Lex had never been more aware of Clark, of the spark between them, than during the time when Clark had been under the influence of the red meteorite. The way Clark had moved then – with the grace of a sexual predator – the husky tone of his voice, the form-fitting clothes, his smile, the heat in his eyes... Lex had been half-hard every time they met.

When the whole thing was over, and he'd read Chloe's article about the class rings, and what they had been made of, it hadn't been that big of a stretch to connect the red meteorite to Clark's strange behavior. So Lex had decided to get a ring of his own. A reminder of 'what could have been', if he and Clark had actually made it to Metropolis.

But would Clark understand all that? Somehow Lex wasn't so sure.

Seeing a familiar truck parked by the side of the road, Lex exhaled sharply. Jonathan was leaning against the driver's door, arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face as he glared at Lex's approaching car.

"This should be fun," Lex muttered under his breath. "Not."

He parked in front of the truck and got out slowly. He leaned against the hood of the Porsche, crossing his legs and hiding his hands in his coat's pockets.

"Mr. Kent." He greeted the man nonchalantly, making no move to get closer. If Jonathan Kent wanted to 'talk' to him, then let him make the effort. Lex was fine where he was.

"Lex. You slammed the phone in my face this morning. And you hung up on Martha."

So much for small talk. "Actually, I hung up on you as well. There's a difference. And I believe I told you why. It was way too early for you to call, and Clark was asleep."

"He's usually up at that hour and working on the farm," Jonathan said forcefully.

"He's not living at the farm right now, Mr. Kent. No reason why he should be up with the chickens." Lex sighed. "Mr. Kent, we both know this isn't about me ending the call. It's about your belief that I can't take proper care of your son. You agree that Dar-El is dangerous and unpredictable. Why can't you let me protect Clark without complaining and criticizing my every move?"

If Jonathan was caught off-guard by Lex's upfront approach, he didn't show it. "I can take care of Clark as well as or better than you," he said, voice rich with rancor.

Lex tilted his head, regarding him carefully. "Can you? Mr. Kent, Dar-El exchanged bodies with my father. Not only that, but he transferred his powers to my father's body as well. Can you honestly tell me you have the means to fight someone with the ability to do stuff like that?"

"Can you?" Jonathan countered, but some of his anger seemed to have vanished.

Lex looked down at his shoes. "No," he replied honestly, heart in his throat at the thought of losing Clark. "I spend half the nights awake, afraid I haven't planned for every contingency. I have a new security system, supposedly capable of going off at the slightest breeze. I put guards patrolling the gardens and gate with kryptonite hidden in lead containers." He glanced up, easily reading the surprise in Jonathan's face. "Clark's my... friend, Mr. Kent. Whatever you may think of me, you must know I'd never let anything happen to him."

Lex was hard-pressed not to gape as Jonathan joined him in leaning against the Porsche, his shoulder brushing Lex's lightly.

Jonathan didn't look at Lex as he spoke. "I've always hated your closeness to Clark. I was afraid you'd find out about his secret, and exploit him somehow. Or that you just wanted his company while you were stuck in Smallville because you were bored. I was also afraid you might have a negative influence on Clark."

Lex winced. "Christ. Thank you for not thinking too badly of me," he grumbled sarcastically.

Suddenly, Jonathan grinned. "Anytime." He sobered. "I resent the hell outta you, you know that? For your easy friendship with Clark; because I know he shares a part of himself with you that he's never shared with me and Martha; because deep down I know you're not like your father and it drives me nuts knowing I was wrong." At Lex's involuntary sound of surprise, Jonathan shrugged. "You were being honest, figured I owed you the same courtesy. Just don't get used to it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Lex said with a small smile. If Jonathan acted this reasonable more often, he might actually learn to like the man. "Now, what?"

Jonathan sighed. "That's the million dollar question. I guess our main focus should be Dar-El." He looked at Lex. "Any ideas on how to get rid of him?"

"Kryptonite is always a good bet," Lex replied. "Unfortunately it means Clark can't be anywhere near at the time. Of course, it would be beneficial if we managed to have Dar-El return to his own body. But for that we'd need to know how he did the switch in the first place, something I don't see happening in the near future."

"We'll find a way," Jonathan said.

It felt good to hear the certainty in Jonathan's voice. Even if the man wasn't saying it aloud, he was putting his trust in Lex, and his usage of the plural meant he would be there through thick and thin. They might have their problems, but when it came to protecting Clark they were both on the same wavelength. Lex only hoped this unexpected truce would last long after Dar-El was gone from their lives.

Dar-El excused himself from his Japanese business partners and moved away from the conference table for some privacy. That accomplished, he answered his cell-phone.

-"It's Beacon again, sir."- the voice on the other end said.

"I gathered as much," Dar-El replied sardonically. "News?"

-"Yes, sir. Jonathan Kent is currently deep in conversation with... um, your son."-

"Lex..." Dar-El said through clenched teeth.

He had been right; both humans were evidently plotting against him and didn't want any witnesses. It was time to turn the tables on his enemies. He hadn't planned on acting out his half-finished plan so soon, but they were forcing his hand.

-"Sir?"-

"I'm still here. Beacon, I want you and Schell to grab Kent and my son. Take them to the Acme Labs, and keep them there. I will join you shortly."

-"Yes, sir."-

"And Beacon? I'm not adverse to some rough-handling. If they give you trouble, you and Schell take the necessary course of action."

-"Uh... Even with your son, sir?"-

Dar-El smiled. "Especially with my son."

-"Understood, sir. You can count on us."-

"You'd better not mess this up, Beacon, or you'll regret it." Dar-El ended the call, turning back to the Japanese. "I'm afraid there's a pressing matter I must see to urgently. Since you'll be in the country for the next few days, I will have my secretary make a new appointment." He bowed respectfully. "Gentlemen." He stormed out of the room, barely glancing at his secretary. "Cancel all my meetings for the day and tomorrow as well."

"But, sir –" she began, only to fall silent at his glare.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

"No, Mr. Luthor. I will cancel all your meetings."

"Good. I'll be incommunicado until further notice. And reschedule Mr. Kanji."

Without another word, he got into the elevator and went down to the laboratories. Ignoring the technicians tensing at the sight of him, he glanced around, looking for the items he would need for his plan to work. If everything worked as he intended, by tonight he would have Kal-El kneeling at his feet. As for Lex Luthor and Jonathan Kent, he foresaw nothing but pain in their future.

Now that the worst of his conversation with Jonathan was over, Lex thought it might be a good time to call Clark. He was reaching inside his coat for the phone, when the sound of a vehicle approaching had him turning around.

Before he could utter a word, a dark SUV stopped beside his Porsche with a loud screeching of tires. He blinked as the driver aimed a gun at him through the open window, the passenger climbing out of the truck and walking over to them, also carrying a gun.

"What the hell do you want?" Jonathan asked.

Lex rolled his eyes. Jonathan was being as diplomatic as ever. Some things never changed.

He looked at the driver again, realizing he knew the man. "I know you," he said. "Your name's Beacon."

Jonathan glared at him. "You know these men?"

Lex resisted the childish urge to say 'duh'. "This one, Beacon. He works for my father, which means he's working for..." 'Dar-El' was left unsaid. He didn't know how much the two thugs knew and didn't particularly want to find out.

A nod from Jonathan told him he had understood.

Lex looked at Beacon. "What do you want?"

He wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. His Glock was still in the Porsche, in the glove compartment, where he left it before going to Belle Reve. If he had been armed, there might have been a chance. The way things were now, the odds weren't on their side.

"Your father wants to see you. I've been sent to fetch you," Beacon replied, as he stepped out of the truck. "Also, he's not too particular about your ambulatory state upon reaching your destination, so don't give us any trouble." He gestured to the SUV. "Both of you, inside please."

Lex traded a look of perfect understanding with Jonathan. Never before had they been more in sync. They both knew they couldn't afford to go, couldn't afford to be used as a bargaining chip against Clark. They had no recourse but to resist.

An imperceptible signal from Jonathan and they were fighting for their lives. Lex jumped Beacon, gripping his wrist and trying to gain possession of the gun. They grappled for a moment, falling to the ground and rolling on the dirt between curses and invectives.

Lex finally got the upper hand, landing on top of Beacon. A grunt he recognized as Jonathan's distracted him for a second, but it was enough. Beacon kneed him in the groin and managed to free his arm long enough to slam the butt of his revolver into Lex's skull. Unconsciousness was a welcome relief from the pain.

Clark watched Chloe drive away with a mixture of relief and sadness. After realizing the car pulling into the driveway wasn't Lex's Porsche, but merely Chloe, Clark had been beyond dismayed. The last thing he needed while worrying about Lex and his father was having to put up with Chloe's endless questions.

Surprisingly, her visit had helped to pass the time, her lively chatter easing some of his worry. Chloe was obviously trying hard to get their friendship back on track and he couldn't fault her for it; he missed his friends terribly. Clark knew that both Chloe and Pete knew something was up, that there had to be some reason why he was living with Lex. Keeping them in the dark – however necessarily -- had strained a friendship that wasn't always smooth sailing to begin with.

Pete seemed to be having a harder time accepting the situation, probably because of his dislike of Lex. Clark couldn't help but feel grateful to Chloe for coming to see him, for being concerned when he had skipped school today. That she had gone over to the mansion first to look for him, told Clark how far she was willing to go to patch things up; both Chloe and Pete had shied away from Lex lately, perhaps thinking that whatever was happening was his fault.

Clark sighed. Now that Chloe was gone his anxiety was returning a thousandfold. Both Lex and his father had been gone for hours. They should have been back by now, or at least should have called. He couldn't wait any longer, he had to do something.

He turned to his mother, not really surprised to see her looking back at him with a troubled expression. "You're going after them, aren't you?" she asked.

Clark nodded. 'I have to,' he thought, even knowing she couldn't hear him. 'It's been too long, something's wrong.'

She touched his face gently. "Then go, sweetheart. Bring them home."

He kissed her cheek, then raced out of the house, following the road that led to Metropolis. If Lex and his father had run into each other, that would be the place to start looking.

Waking up to a splitting headache was something Lex liked to avoid whenever possible. Waking up on the cold, hard floor of what had to be a top-notch laboratory with Dar-El staring down at him from his father's amused eyes, was almost too much to bear.

Controlling the nausea assailing him, Lex slowly sat up. Jonathan was sitting beside him, supported by the wall behind them, and looking about as bad as Lex himself felt. The man had a bloodied temple, a bruised cheek and his left eye was swollen-shut.

"You okay, Mr. Kent?" Lex asked.

"Peachy. You?"

Lex chuckled weakly. "The same." He turned to Dar-El. "Hello, Dad. To what do we owe this... um, honor?"

Dar-El smirked. "I heard about your little rendezvous in the middle of nowhere. You have been a thorn in my side long enough, Lex. It's time I did something about it. And about... Clark as well."

"What do you mean?" Jonathan asked, and Lex could hear the fear in his voice.

Instead of replying, Dar-El spread his arms wide, gesturing around him. "What do you think of this place? Lio... um, I bought it last week. It's conveniently out of the way, and equipped with state of the art technology. Perfect for conducting... experiments." He looked down at Lex, a decisively evil glint in his eyes. "But first... I still owe you for our last encounter."

"You want us to rough him up for you, sir?" Beacon asked, neither he or his partner far from their master's shadow.

"No need. I will handle this myself." He grabbed Lex by the front of his shirt and hauled him easily to his feet. Face inches away from Lex's, he asked softly, "How long do you think it will take before Kal-El finds this place, Lex? Before he comes for you? Super-hearing certainly has its advantages."

Lex forced himself to ignore his precarious plight, frowning at the man. "He won't come," he lied. "He'll know it's a trap."

Dar-El laughed, his breath fanning over Lex's face. "Oh, he'll come, all right. Even knowing it's hazardous to his health, he won't have any choice. Not if he wants to save you. Shouldn't take long for him to arrive. Especially... if I make you scream."

The first punch caught him by surprise, but Lex merely tightened his lips, refusing to give Dar-El the satisfaction of dragging a sound out of him. Several more punches followed, but he held firm. He knew Clark would be able to locate them by their voices alone. He refused to add to Clark's burden and guilt by showing just how much pain he was in.

"Leave him alone," Jonathan shouted, his arms held securely in the grip of Dar-El's goons.

Dar-El released Lex, letting him drop to the floor. "Very well."

Lex lay on his side, panting against the fierce ache in his body. He hurt so badly. His nose was bleeding, his bottom lip was split, he had at least a couple of cracked or broken ribs, his groin and head felt swollen and one wrist was throbbing in time with his pulse. He had probably sprained it when he fell.

Lex startled as he felt gentle hands gathering him up, something soft coming to rest under his head. "Jon'than?" he mumbled with some difficulty, realizing he was lying in Jonathan's lap.

"Shh, it's okay, Lex," Jonathan soothed him. "You're okay now."

"I'm afraid that's not exactly true," Dar-El said.

Lex forced his eyes open, swallowing thickly as he saw Dar-El holding up a syringe with a greenish liquid inside. "W'at's that?" he asked, voice cracking slightly.

"A little something concocted in LuthorCorp's labs. A special poison made with green meteorites. It takes effect immediately, although it takes a very, very long time to kill you. A small dose of the antidote every hour insures that someone who has been administered this substance can live for weeks, months, years even. Provided of course, you don't run out of the antidote."

"You can't do this!" Jonathan snapped.

"Oh, but I can. You see, I can't allow Clark to storm in here and take you both away. I need... some guarantee that he'll behave and obey my orders. I'm afraid there is no permanent cure. If Clark tries to take Lex away from here, eventually Lex will die. If Clark does my bidding, I'll keep Lex alive. It's that simple." He grabbed Lex's arm, pushing his sleeve away. "This won't hurt a bit," he taunted.

"No!" Jonathan tried to push Dar-El away, but was immediately restrained by Dar-El's thugs.

Knowing he was helpless, but unwilling to give up, Lex fought against Dar-El with what remained of his strength. A punch to his face left him semi-conscious, barely aware of the needle being plunged into his arm. For a moment nothing happened, and he wondered absently if he might not be immune to the poison. But soon the burning started, fire running ablaze within him until he was certain he would disintegrate into nothing but ashes. A scream echoed all around him, momentarily breaking through his agony. He never realized it was his own voice.

It only took Clark seconds to find the Porsche and the truck. Heart hammering in his chest, he experienced a sense of déjà vu, remembering Lana and her wrecked car. He knew this was different; both vehicles were carefully parked, and his x-ray vision was telling him there was no one inside. Still, it took a while for his panic to subside.

Glancing around, he noticed skid marks on the road. Signs of a car coming to an abrupt halt. It could be a coincidence, but they stopped right next to the Porsche, and he didn't really believe in coincidences.

His sense of urgency increased. Knowing the only sure way he had to find Lex and his father was his hearing, he closed his eyes and focused. He allowed his hearing to ripple further and further away, opening himself wide, searching for Lex's or his father's voice.

"You can't do this!" There! It was his father, and he sounded mad as hell. Hopefully not at Lex; the last thing Clark needed was to find them at each other's throats.

The loud sound of a horn honking from afar broke Clark's concentration. He clutched at his ears, the deafening noise reverberating through his skull. Gritting his teeth he tried again. 'Focus!' he told himself sternly.

He reached out for his father's voice again, finding it easier this time. "No!" his father was shouting, followed by what seemed like a scuffle.

A terrifying scream threatened to shatter his eardrums, and Clark gasped at both the pain in his head and the anguish he could hear in that cry. Worse yet, he would recognize that voice anywhere; it was Lex.

In a heartbeat, he was standing in front of a laboratory on the outskirts of Metropolis. The urge to protect his lover gave him the impetus he needed to keep going. He kicked down the door, storming the place, emerging in what had to be the main lab.

He felt his anger reach new heights as he saw his father's battered features and Lex's pitiful condition. Besides having been badly beaten, Lex was obviously also in a world of pain. Clark was infinitely grateful for the care his father was showing, holding Lex within his embrace.

Clark focused briefly on the two henchmen standing by the side, dismissing them, then turned to Dar-El who was smiling widely, allowing Clark to take in everything around him. "I've been expecting you, Kal-El," he finally said.

Clark ignored him, rushing to his lover. He touched Lex's head tenderly. 'Lex? Lex, please talk to me. Lex?' A breathy moan was his only reply, but Lex's beautiful eyes fluttered open.

"Clark..." was the barely discernable croak. "'M okay..."

Clark almost snorted at that. 'Of course you are.' He felt his eyes filling. 'God, Lex... Look at you, you're a mess.'

Lex's hand touched his cheek lightly and a murderous rage took hold of Clark. He would gladly break Dar-El's neck for this. In fact... He rose, intent on doing just that, but Dar-El lifted a finger in warning.

"Ah, ah! None of that. You turn on me and Lex will die. In case you didn't eavesdrop on my talk with your father, I just injected Lex with poison. Without the antidote he'll die. And I'm the only one with the antidote, or capable of administering the right dosage. Too little will kill him, too much will... well, kill him. He also needs to take it hourly. See the pattern here? Do as I tell you and he will live. Defy me..."

Incredulous, Clark turned to his father for confirmation. The miserable face and the brief nod he received as his father helped Lex to stand, told Clark the truth. They were in deep and without any way out that he could see.

He stood frozen in the middle of the lab, panting with anger, knowing there was nothing he could do, at least for the moment. He looked at Dar-El, tilting his head slightly in surrender.

Dar-El laughed. "Excellent!" He walked over to Clark, coming to stand very close. "You know, Jor-El and I used to be lovers." He brushed his fingers lightly over Clark's cheek. "I miss him, miss what we had back then. You're so much like him... The eye-color is slightly different, but the rest... It's like going back in time and seeing a very young Jor-El again."

"Clark?" Lex mumbled, concern in his voice.

Clark looked at Lex, giving him what he knew was a very feeble, but hopefully reassuring smile. Dar-El was speaking too low for anyone else to hear, but it was possible that Lex had sensed the revulsion Clark had experienced when Dar-El touched him.

A hand gripping his face had Clark staring back at Dar-El's angry eyes. "Pay attention, boy, or I'll have my men kill your father. Lex is the only one I really need to keep you in line." Dar-El took a deep breath. "Now, let's see how far you're willing to go for the sake of your lover's life, cousin. See that box on the table? Check what's inside. That's something you'll be wearing for as long as I see fit."

Trying to control the fear rising within him, Clark looked inside the large, open box. He swallowed hard at what it contained. It was a collar.

"It's made of lead," Dar-El whispered in his ear. "And on the inside, it's inlaid with small meteorite fragments. Not enough to kill you, but enough to make you very pliant. And the lead on the outside will protect me from its effects. Wonderful invention, isn't it?"

'Please, no…' his mind whimpered.

"Clark?" This time there was almost panic in Lex's voice.

Clark looked back at him, knowing his face was showing the fear and desperation he was feeling.

His father must have seen it too, because he glared at Dar-El. "What's going on? What are you doing to him?"

Dar-El smiled. "Nothing... yet. I'm merely telling Clark what his future holds."

"Clark?" Lex repeated.

'Lex, he wants me to wear a collar. It has kryptonite. If I put it on, I'll never be able to fight him, I'll be too weak.' Seeing Lex's gaze sweep across the room, he understood Lex was searching for the collar. 'It's on the table. Inside the big box.'

Lex's eyes widened in horror when he saw the collar, then narrowed in anger. "Don't do anything he wants, Clark. We'll find a way out of this," he said. Some of his strength seemed to have returned; he was standing unaided, even if swaying slightly, one hand tucked protectively against his stomach.

'I have to, Lex. He'll kill Dad, or hurt you again. I can't...'

Dar-El's voice cut through their conversation. "I'm afraid he has no choice," he told Lex. "Not if he wants you both to continue breathing." He turned to Clark, a leer on his face. "Strip."

"What?" Jonathan roared, taking a step closer, only to be blocked by one of Dar-El's thugs.

Dar-El ignored him, grinning at Clark. "If I can't have Jor-El again, I'll have the next best thing; you. Now, take your clothes off, or the humans will suffer the consequences."

Clark hesitated, but knew there was no way he could refuse. The two henchmen were practically glued to Lex and his father now, obviously anticipating trouble.

'I'm so sorry, Lex...' he sent to his lover, begging for forgiveness and understanding at once.

"Clark, no…" Lex pleaded brokenly.

Clark refused to look at him or his father again. Face burning with shame and humiliation, he began to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He was about to be raped in front of two of the most important people in his life, and there was nothing he, or anyone else, could do.

Lex watched with clenched fists as Clark began to remove the rest of his clothes. The poison coursing through his system, the fierce pain in his body, all was forgotten as he raged at what was about to happen.

"Clark, you can't do this," he implored.

'I have to. He doesn't have the antidote on him, Lex. I checked with my x-ray vision. It can be anywhere and if it takes us too long to find it... I can't let you die. Please, don't ask me that,' Clark replied, staring at him with too-bright eyes.

Lex just clenched his hands harder, glancing down when he felt something biting into his finger. The ring. He had forgotten all about the red kryptonite ring. Suddenly, he knew what to do. Clark would probably kill him later, but he couldn't allow his lover to sacrifice himself for Lex's sake.

Seeing that Dar-El was too busy drooling over Clark's body as it was revealed and that Beacon and his partner had relaxed their stance, Lex made his move. Ignoring protesting ribs and his other various aches, he shoved the closest of their guards away, rushing to Clark's side and taking hold of one of his hands.

"I love you," he said, before putting the ring on Clark's finger.

There was a brief flash of surprise in Clark's eyes, rapidly replaced by a red glow. When it vanished, Clark looked up, a slight smile touching his lips as he glanced around the room. Lex shivered at the sight; it was like watching a big feline start to stalk its prey.

"Want me to teach your son a lesson, sir?" Beacon asked Dar-El, as he pulled Lex away.

Dar-El chuckled. "No. It's only fair the lovers should get to say goodbye. After all, after today they'll never get to touch again."

"Lovers?" Jonathan gritted out.

Lex leaned against the wall for support, Beacon's manhandling having added a few new bruises to his growing collection. He looked at Jonathan, saddened that the other man had found out this way. "I'm sorry."

He turned his attention back to Clark, who was now standing by the slab, watching them all silently.

Dar-El frowned. "Lie down," he ordered.

Clark grinned. "I don't think so," he said, and Lex gasped at hearing Clark's voice for the first time in weeks. Even hoarse from lack of use, it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

If anything Dar-El's frown grew deeper. "When did you get your voice back?"

Clark didn't reply. Instead he said harshly, "Sorry to ruin your plans, cousin, but I won't be spreading my legs for you." He approached Dar-El slowly, muscles rippling as he moved, exuding danger and sensuality. "You've made a terrible mistake. Lex is mine, and no one messes with what's mine."

Lex was torn between annoyance and exhilaration at those possessive words. He wasn't quite comfortable with the idea of belonging to anyone, but for Clark he would make an exception. Apparently, their bond was strong enough – and deep enough -- to survive even the powerful influence of red kryptonite.

"Are you forgetting –" Dar-El began.

"I'm not forgetting anything," Clark interrupted. "I think you've overstayed your welcome on this planet, Dar-El. Time for you to leave, permanently."

Lex watched with bated breath as Clark slammed a hand into Dar-El's chest, propelling him against the wall. Beacon reached for his gun, firing twice. When he realized the bullets merely bounced off Clark harmlessly, Beacon rushed towards him. Clark didn't give him time to act; he grabbed Beacon by the throat, twisting his neck with a sickening sound of bones snapping.

The second man didn't fare any better. Stupid enough to attack Clark even after seeing what he could do, the drone was flung across the room, his head connecting with the brick and cracking his skull open.

"No," Lex whispered as he saw Dar-El rise from the floor abruptly and charge Clark.

It was like watching a clash of titans. Every punch one threw was quickly matched by the other, every power one used, the other rapidly countered. Lex and Jonathan were forced to crowd in a corner, as the laboratory was slowly destroyed by the extraordinary force emanating from the two aliens fighting.

Realizing that the battle could literally take hours and that there was no guarantee that Clark would be the winner, Lex looked around for something he could use to help his lover. The lead collar, now lying on the floor amongst the ruins of the table, gave him another idea. It seemed it was his day for harebrained schemes.

The only real hurdle against his plan was his condition. The effect of the poison seemed to have muted; now that it was running through his veins, he didn’t feel as bad, perhaps due to the same reason he usually healed more quickly than most people. Okay, maybe not feeling bad was an overstatement; his body was aching, and even his eyelashes hurt. Still, there was no alternative. Not if he wanted them all to survive this mess.

"You think you could tackle Clark?" he asked Jonathan.

Jonathan gave him an incredulous look. "Are you crazy? And have him snap my neck too? I saw the ring, Lex. I don't know what the hell you were thinking, but --"

"We don't have time for this," Lex interrupted roughly. "I have an idea, but I need them apart. You'll have the advantage of surprise. Can you do it or not?"

Jonathan glared at him. "This discussion isn't over, Lex." Rolling his eyes, he added, "Just tell me when."

Lex nodded. When the two opponents were far enough away, he moved closer to where the collar was lying and snatched it from the floor, feeling the kryptonite scratching against his palm. He waited then, watching the fight, looking out for the right moment.

When the opportunity came, he didn't waste any time. "Now!" he shouted to Jonathan.

Lex hardly noticed Jonathan tackle Clark away from Dar-El. He choked back a sob of pain as he smashed into Dar-El, sending them both crashing into the lab’s generator, whose lid had fallen off its hinges earlier during the fight. Grabbing a thick wire, careful of the spark and electricity coming out of the end, Lex thrust it at Dar-El's body.

His agonized cry mingled with Dar-El's as the current shot through them both, a green glow enveloping their bodies. They dropped to the floor, Lex panting, his eyes squeezed shut.

Little by little, a voice and the feeling of hands on his body penetrated through his pain-filled senses. "Lex!" He was cradled against a bare chest, worry and anger washing over him – Clark. The hands and chest seemed to shake, and Clark's voice trembled as he said, "Dad, the collar, take it away." Something was tugged from his seemingly lifeless fingers, and almost instantly the shaking beneath him stopped. But the voice was trembling still. "What'd you think you were doing? You could've been killed!"

Lex opened his eyes to look up at Clark, an only slightly battered Clark, healthy enough to rip into him for endangering his life. Loving him enough to do so. From somewhere Lex managed a smile. "Seemed worth it," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Worth it? You..." Clark didn't finish, but lifted him and kissed him deeply, demandingly. Under different circumstances Lex would have loved it, but right now, it only took his breath away in a hurtful way. He groaned.

"Clark!" Jonathan's shout broke the kiss, and Lex was actually thankful for it.

"What is it, Dad? He's my lover. I like kissing him." The aggressive tone reminded Lex of the fact that Clark wasn't quite himself right now, was still wearing the red kryptonite ring. 'Damn.' It had seemed like a good idea before, but how did he get rid of the spirit he had summoned?

"We'll talk about that later, son." Lex couldn't help admire Jonathan's I-don't-care-if-you-could-kill-me-with-a-look attitude. "But this is really not the time, nor is Lex in any condition for this."

'Never has anything more truthful come out of the man's mouth,' Lex thought, trying to ignore the pain that was clinging to him like a second skin -- in and outside. 'What's this anyway? Shouldn't I have superpowers by now, and not feel weak like a kitten, almost wishing to be drowned to stop my misery?' It would just be his luck that the power-exchange didn't work for a Luthor. But then that would mean...

"What's with Dar-El?" Lex asked, afraid that the Kryptonian had left, still remaining the same dangerous enemy.

There was the sound of footsteps, then a surprised "He's dead" from Jonathan.

"What?" He struggled to get up and see for himself, until Clark lifted him up and swung him around.

"He's dead, Lex," Clark confirmed. "Maybe his... Lionel's heart gave out. Whatever reason, he's no threat anymore."

That was a relief, but what did it mean for Lionel, was the death of his body affecting him in any way? "What 'bout my father?" Lex wondered.

"Who cares?" Clark asked. Then amended, "We'll find out. Later. Right now you're more important. We've got to find the antidote."

Good point. Lex just hoped that the ring would help Clark to stay focused, for he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to think clearly. Mind over matter could only work so far, and his strength was almost gone.

"Sweep the lab, then take us away from here, and burn everything down." That should hide most of what had happened here – Lex hoped. His vision started to narrow, things were losing their color. "Clark." He had to say one more thing.

"Lex?"

"If I die..."

"You won't!" Angry denial. 'You can't leave me, Lex! You can't!'

"I knew the risk. Not your fault." He managed to touch Clark's cheek in a weak caress. "Love you, E.T., always." He might have managed some more words, but the important things had been said. His hand felt like lead, falling from Clark's face to his chest, as Lex rested his head against his lover's shoulder, closing his eyes.

He heard Clark call his name, felt his alien's fear and love – 'Lex? Lex. No! Stay with me, stay! Please?' "Lex!" – even as he slid into welcoming pain-free darkness.

Dar-El looked at the tableau beneath him with a strange mixture of detachment and anger. So much for him ruling Earth. There he lay – or rather the body of Lionel Luthor – the most powerful being on this planet, brought down by a mere human. He could almost hear Esiget-Rah laughing. Maybe he should have taken the legends of the god-spirit more seriously – or maybe not. It didn't matter now.

He watched as Kal-El held on to the apparently lifeless form of his lover. It would be some sort of cosmic justice if the human died, too, but somehow Dar-El didn't expect that to happen. He had felt the tell-tale sign of kryptonite close by when they had crashed into the generator, and just like back when he had turned into Lionel he had felt the electricity run through his body. But this time he had been unprepared, had no plan himself, so there was nothing he could do as his powers were being ripped from him and the vulnerability of Lex Luthor became his own. The pain had been unbearable, centering in his chest, cutting off his breath. When his soul had broken free from the constraint of a body it had been a relief of sorts.

So it stood to reason that since Dar-El had gotten human fragility Lex Luthor would have gotten his alien abilities. Maybe the poison was weakening or even neutralizing some of the powers – after all it was based on green meteorite fragments -- but he doubted it could kill someone with Kryptonian strength. What a pity.

Even as he was thinking that, he felt himself losing focus, he seemed to drift away from the scene, flying higher, losing interest. The world around him became an ocean of cold blue, without landmarks or contours of any kind. Past, present and future forgotten within the waves of eternity.

There was only one light ahead, promising warmth. Somehow he made his way to it, but all his attempts to merge with the light were stonewalled. The light was already filled with something else.

The entity once known as Dar-El strengthened with anger, he would not give up on what was his. He could wait.

The Porsche racing towards the Kent farm broke every traffic law and speed limit, but its driver didn't care. Despite all its speed, to Clark it seemed as if the car was crawling, and yet he didn't stop it to run instead, because a tiny part of him – a part which was dreading what he might find – didn't want to reach his home at all.

Eventually he came to a halt behind his father's truck at the Kent driveway. Clark took a deep breath to calm his nerves, pushing the mixed smell of kerosene, smoke, acid and other chemicals from the burned labs away. He refused to focus on the stink of failure that clung to his clothes, which he knew were beyond rescue – not that it mattered. Briefly he wondered why he had bothered to get dressed again anyway? His father would probably mutter something about morals. But why was he letting stupid human perceptions affect him?

Surely his mother wouldn't have fainted if he'd been naked when he'd appeared with an unconscious Lex in his arms, gently settling his precious burden on the couch and telling her to take care of him. And the places he had left behind wouldn't have cared, either. If he'd had left any surveillance tapes undestroyed during his frantic search it might have been an issue, but Clark was sure that there was nothing incriminating left behind. And nobody had seen him as he'd super-sped through Metropolis looking for any LuthorCorp owned buildings he could find.

He stepped out of the car and walked towards the house. The hour – Lex's hour – was almost up and he hadn't come up with anything. Nothing at LuthorCorp, nothing at the apartments. And no vial at Acme Lab or any of LuthorCorp's labs had stood out and shouted 'antidote' to Clark. He'd thought about asking, or rather threatening people into helping him, but in the end hadn't bothered. He was sure that Dar-El wouldn't have trusted anyone enough to let him or her know about his plans. And even if the original liquid had been a LuthorCorp experiment, Dar-El had very likely altered it for his purposes.

As he entered the house he was greeted by his mother, who looked him over carefully. Her gaze lingered on his hand, or rather the red kryptonite ring he was wearing. She looked sad. She had looked the same way at Lana's funeral. Clark's own gaze swept over her, noticing the cloth she was holding, the spots of blood on her clothes.

"Your father is upstairs, resting. He shouldn't have driven the truck home."

"It was his idea," Clark said, "I didn't have time to convince him otherwise." And he really hadn't cared. If Jonathan didn't like being carried by his son like a sack of potatoes – even if just for a few minutes – but rather drive part of the way home with broken ribs and bruises and whatever, who was he to argue? Especially with an important mission to be done. A mission Clark had failed.

Breaking eye contact with his mother, Clark walked into the living room. Lex's breathing was shallow, his bruises even more pronounced now that the blood had been washed away. At the sight of his lover desperately ill, Clark felt his anger drain away to be replaced by pain and the hollow feeling of certain loss.

"Oh, Lex." He knelt beside the couch and gently took Lex's hand in his. The red kryptonite ring sparkled, and Clark remembered Lex shoving it onto his finger. Remembered how his fear had become fury, how the need to avenge his humiliation and get rid of Dar-El had taken over all other thought.

'Why did you do it, Lex? You knew what I would become. I told you all about that side of me.' There was no reaction, but Clark knew the answer anyway. Lex had needed to protect him, at any cost to himself. It was the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate love. And he was about to lose it.

Swallowing, Clark stared at the ring. It would make the loss easier to bear, but it wouldn't really erase the pain. He already had gone through this the second time he had worn the red kryptonite ring, and while he'd been wilder and less sympathetic all around, he had still mourned, still cried after Lex's wake. And Lex would never forgive him for becoming Kal when he had sacrificed himself to save Clark.

Making a decision, Clark took the ring from his finger and transferred it to Lex's hand. "For better or worse," he whispered, as he slid it on.

He heard his mother gasp, but his attention was elsewhere. Had he imagined it or had Lex's veins actually glowed red for a millisecond?

There was movement in the fingers he held. Then a low pitiful moan.

"Lex?"

Harsh breathing, a gasp for air. Another moan, and then Lex's whole body began to shiver and twitch.

"Lex?" Clark knelt over his lover, looking for any sign of awareness. 'Lex?'

Blue eyes were open, but they seemed to see right through him. And then the convulsions started in earnest. It was all Clark could do to hold on to Lex, and call to him in his mind. 'Hang on, Lex! Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me.'

An eternity later -- or at least that was what it felt like for Clark -- the attacks stopped abruptly. Lex's breathing and heartbeat calmed down, and his eyelashes fluttered.

"Lex?"

"Cla'k?" Lex blinked several times but finally his eyes seemed to focus on Clark.

"Yeah, that's me. How're you feeling? Any pain?"

The shake of the head was barely visible, but it made Clark whoop with joy. Of course he didn't believe for a minute that Lex wasn't in pain, but he took it as an indication that the pain wasn't too bad, or at least not lethal. The realization brought tears to his eyes. He didn't understand what had happened, why the convulsions which had been so painful to watch seemed to have cured Lex of Dar-El's poison, or why there hadn't been any before. Clark shrugged mentally. Maybe it had been Lex's own healing powers finally setting in or it was due to Clark being close again. Probably just coincidence. It didn't matter as long as Lex didn't die. He would be happy with that.

He wanted to kiss Lex, but he remembered their last kiss in the lab and didn't want to hurt his lover again. So instead of leaning down to kiss the swollen lips, he lifted Lex's hand and plastered it with kisses. First the palm, then the knuckles. He paused as he reached the red kryptonite ring, feeling Lex's gaze on him like a laserbeam. Slowly he looked up.

"Why?" Lex asked, his expression one of wonder. He had looked like that at their first fateful meeting, after Clark had pulled him from the river and brought him back to life.

Clark swallowed. How could he explain? "It seemed right," he said finally, knowing it wasn't what he really meant. "I thought I was losing you, I wanted you to have something of me with you. That's what the ring's about, isn't it?" 'For better or worse?'

A prolonged silence followed, which would have scared Clark, had he not seen Lex swallow and heard his heart beat faster.

"You better mean it, E.T., 'cause I don't think I'm going anywhere," Lex said slowly.

'I do,' he promised, smiling. 'Just get better.'

Lex's answering smile was breathtaking. "We have a deal then."

This time Clark kissed him on the lips, carefully, then licked his bruises lightly, until a cough from the doorway reminded him of where they were, and who else was there. Before he could turn to his mother and start to explain, however, Lex was suddenly struggling to get up.

"Lex, what...?" He never finished his question, since Lex started a whole set of his own. What had happened? How long had he been out? Had anyone seen him? Did they have a cover story yet?

Clark answered automatically, while his mind was unsuccessfully trying to catch up with his lover's sudden burst of nervous energy. Luckily, his mother seemed to understand what Lex was getting at, and when Lex's strength began to fade, Martha took over.

As he was following his mother's orders to shower and change, Clark felt like he was six years old again, and decided that -- except for the part where that would mean he was too young to have sex – he didn't really mind. Grinning, he headed for his room.

March 3rd

"Yes, I will call you if my father gets in contact with me. But I'm sure he'll call you first. Goodbye." Putting his cell-phone away, Lex sent a 'thank you' to whatever deity had made him decide to not work for his father again, otherwise he wouldn't be able to just sit here while LuthorCorp was in a state of uproar at being the victim of some kind of break-in and destructive attack. Of course this would change the moment one of the corpses found within the burned down Acme Lab was identified as Lionel Luthor. There wouldn't be a minute of peace for him then.

"Finished?"

Looking up at Clark, he nodded.

'My parents want to talk to us.'

The nervous undercurrent in Clark's mental voice told Lex all he needed to know; this talk would be about them being lovers, and although Clark had wanted to tell his parents about it, now that the cat was out of the bag, he wasn't feeling so brave anymore.

'So much for peace,' Lex thought dryly. He had expected this of course, he was just surprised, though positively, that the Kents had waited until now. After all, during their nightly 'war-council' – when Lex had learned that Martha was a hell of a strategist and story-teller if she wanted to be – that fact had been hovering at the periphery of everything, never directly named, but also never denied. He remembered falling asleep on the couch afterwards to the thought that he must look truly horrible if the Kents let him get away with it, and didn't even tell Clark to stay away from him. Then again, Jonathan hadn't looked too healthy either.

"Lex, you okay?" A large hand was laid lightly on his shoulder.

"Yes. Sorry, woolgathering." He smiled at Clark, then rose slowly, giving his friend a chance to put an arm around his waist to support him. Truth be told, Lex didn't really need any help. Though his body still hurt and he looked as colorful as a modern art painting, it wasn't anywhere near as painful as it should be, considering what his body had been through. But then experience told him that the Kents had a very selective memory, and Lex wasn't above hammering in the fact that he had nearly died to protect his lover if it won him some points in their eyes. Besides, he liked to be held by Clark.

Together they approached the kitchen table where Clark's parents already waited. Choosing the chair opposite Jonathan, Lex settled down and looked straight at the older man, wondering how much ground gained yesterday might have been lost. There was definitely a scowl on the man's face, which wasn't unusual, so... Lex turned to Martha, only to find her measuring him critically, as if she had never seen him before. Great. He had thought she liked him, but of course, that had been before he had touched her baby boy.

Trying for nonchalance, Lex leaned back a little to have both parents in sight. "You wanted to talk?" he asked; he wouldn't make it easy for them.

There was silence for a while until it was broken by Jonathan. "So much for being honest, Lex. All that talk about keeping Clark safe, that you could protect him better, when you just wanted him to..." he stopped, obviously grasping for words, finally deciding on "to warm your bed."

"Dad!" Clark was looking at his father aghast, and Lex could feel that he was about to speak up, but he didn't give him the chance.

"If this was only about me needing something to warm my bed, Mr. Kent, I would buy an electric blanket. And if I needed something to satisfy other... needs, I could get that too, without any additional baggage. I certainly wouldn't risk my life trying to keep Clark safe, if a bedwarmer was all he was to me. Considering your low opinion of me, I thought you would be aware of that." Damn. He hadn't meant to get angry, this was not the way to win an argument.

'Lex, everything okay?' Clark sounded worried. 'Maybe I should talk to them?'

Obviously his lover hadn't expected him to lose his temper so soon, either. Lex sent him a tentative smile. "I'm okay." He looked at Jonathan. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

To his surprise the older Kent snorted and shook his head. "Actually, I think I asked for that. You're right, of course. I know better. Still, you know we'd never have let Clark live with you if we'd known that this was on your agenda. We expected you to act in Clark's best interests, and you..."

'If he says that I betrayed their trust I'm going to laugh in his face, or throttle him,' Lex thought ironically.

"... took advantage."

"He didn't –" Clark began, but his mother interrupted him.

"Sweetheart, I know you love Lex, and believe he knows what's best, but you're very impressionable, and Lex knows how to get what he wants. Besides that is not the point. He had a responsibility to you, to us, and he betrayed that."

The disappointment in her voice was hurting more than the actual words, but Lex didn't show that, instead he met her gaze calmly, this time keeping a tight rein on his temper. "Mrs. Kent, it just occurred to me that you're under the impression that Clark and I have been lovers since he started to live with me, if not before. That is not the case. I won't say I didn't dream of being more than a friend to Clark, I would be lying if I did, but that was not on my 'agenda', as Mr. Kent so nicely put it. All I wanted was to keep Clark safe. And I wouldn't ever have acted on my feeling towards your son if I hadn't felt that he was ready for it. I love him. I hope you know that."

Martha shook her head slightly. "That is no excuse, Lex. You can't just decide something like that. You're a grown-up, but Clark is still a chi --"

"He is no child." Lex almost growled those words, it was time to wake up his lover's parents. "You wouldn't send a child to take on insane people with mutant powers. You don't let a child deal with criminals, even murderers. You can't expect him to be mature enough to take on the problems of the world, and then decide he's too young to know what and who he wants." For a second Martha looked as if he had slapped her, then she pulled herself together again. She didn't say anything, but her expression was more thoughtful than angry, Lex took that as a good sign.

"I'm over the age of consent," Clark added. "Lex didn't do anything wrong. And he didn't rush me or talk me into something. I wanted to be with him for a while. I love him."

"It's okay, honey. We just need a little time to adjust to it." Martha locked eyes briefly with Lex. "You've become a man, I guess I need to catch up to that fact." Jonathan nodded in agreement.

"Still, new or not, you should have told us." This time her disappointment was clearly directed at Clark, who lowered his head throwing Lex a look saying: "See!"

"Actually," Lex started, feeling he had to defend his lover, but Clark interrupted.

"We wanted to, but then Dar-El was suddenly Lionel and threatened us and everything happened so fast after that... I'm sorry, Mom." The pleading note in Clark's voice seemed to convince his parents because their gazes softened and both smiled at him soothingly.

His mother leaned forward and patted his hand lying on the table, while his father squeezed his shoulder. "We understand, son."

Lex sighed quietly. That had actually gone over easier than he had expected. But his earlier outburst still puzzled him. He shouldn't lose control this easily, he knew better. He looked at the ring on his hand, contemplating. Was the red kryptonite affecting him? Nobody had said anything to him about taking the ring off, since they weren't sure if his miraculous recovery wasn't due to its powers, and no one wanted to risk him falling ill again just because he took it off. In truth though, Lex highly doubted that he would have a relapse. Even if the red kryptonite had been initial to his healing, he was sure that all traces of the poison were gone by now. But what if the red rocks worked on him like they did on Clark? As far as anyone knew they didn't do anything to humans, so what did that say about Lex? Was he different because he was a mutant, or was he different because something from Dar-El had transferred to him after all?

'An interesting theory, Alexander,' Lex mocked himself. 'Why don't you just admit you're disappointed you didn't get any superpowers and live with it? You're tired and a little bit on the edge, which can be excused by being almost killed by an alien and grilled by your own hand. Not to mention sleeping on the Kents' couch.' On that thought he stood and walked towards the door.

"I think it's time I head home," he explained when everyone looked at him in surprise.

"You can't!" Clark stood next to him before he had finished. "I mean, why would you go?"

He smiled and gently cupped his lover's chin, looking up into worried eyes. "Don't fret, E.T., it's a precaution. It would look pretty odd if the police or the reporters found me here. Especially if you keep our cover story in mind."

Clark's expression fell. 'I don't want you to leave.'

"You shouldn't drive in your condition, Lex," Martha said kindly, but any notion that she was trying to keep him there instantly vanished as she suggested that one of his hired men could drive him to the mansion. "It's not as if we need them anymore," she added, when Lex shook his head, "Clark is back with us, and Dar-El is dead."

"You might not need them anymore, but it would look strange if they left today. And while we know that Clark can do the job of more than two men, others don't and the way your husband looks right now, you should be in need of a helping hand." From Jonathan's grimace Lex could guess that he had hit a sore point, but he was right, and they knew it.

"I can drive him," Clark said, not bothering to voice it as a question, though he did wait a fraction before grabbing the car keys.

Lex smiled gratefully when no one voiced a protest. And he didn't care to hide his surprise when Jonathan led them to the door with a brisk: "We expect you back before breakfast, son."

Maybe he could actually like that man one day.

March 10th

Clark walked silently through the corridors of the mansion fiercely glad that the reporters – or vultures, as Lex called them – stalking the gate for the last days were finally gone. Both his parents and Lex had agreed – a first in itself – that Clark should go back to the farm, to avoid being seen with Lex. While in theory Clark agreed that he should keep away from the eye of the media, he really missed his lover.

Lex wasn’t in his office, so Clark sat at the desk to wait for him, slumping contentedly into the comfortable chair. Things were beginning to look up. Dar-El was dead, his voice was back, he and Lex were together, and although his parents weren’t exactly jumping for joy at Clark’s choice, they had finally accepted that Lex was basically now their son-in-law.

"I just had a fleeting image of your parents popping up in my head, Clark, why is that?" Lex asked as he walked into the office, pulling him from his musings.

“’Hello, Clark. How are you, Clark? I love you, Clark’,” Clark teased, smiling as Lex stalked closer, leaned down and kissed him thoroughly.

“Hello, Clark. How are you, Clark? I love you, Clark,” Lex shot back huskily, when they separated. “About your parents?”

"Sorry." Clark sat up, grabbing Lex by the shirt and pulling him back down until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. "I was just thinking how glad I am that they've accepted that we're together."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Let's say they're trying."

"Come on, you and my dad are getting along pretty well, most of the time. You even gave each other an alibi."

"Telling the sheriff that we couldn't have been anywhere near that laboratory when it burned down because we were beating each other senseless about three hours away, is a strange definition for 'getting along pretty well' in my book," Lex replied, looking at him incredulously.

"It fits the definition, because that wasn't what happened. You and my father didn't have a fight with each other."

"Only because Dar-El's thugs kidnapped us first."

"Yeah, sure." Now it was Clark's turn to roll his eyes, but he didn't press the issue. Thinking of the two men he had killed always made him feel sick, even though he knew that neither Lex nor his father blamed him, that they'd have probably killed Beacon and Schell themselves if they'd gotten the chance.

"Don't." Lex's hand on his cheek and his forceful gaze told Clark that his lover knew exactly what he'd been thinking about.

"I can't help it." He was very sensitive about the whole issue at Acme Labs. So many things had happened there that he'd rather forget. He still had nightmares about Lex dying of the poison; over and over he saw himself running through rooms and buildings looking in vain for the antidote. Clark swallowed. And then there was the issue of all the things he had destroyed, places he had set fire to. Luckily, no one else had been seriously hurt, but it could have happened. Because Clark hadn't been careful, because he hadn't cared for anyone but Lex. Not that Lex had needed his help, or the antidote for that matter.

After the fit he'd had in the Kents' living room, Lex had started to get better and heal up fast. Any faster and the tale about Jonathan and him having a brawl about Lex's relationship with Clark wouldn't have worked. As it was, Lex's and Jonathan's injuries had convinced Sheriff Adams that Lex couldn't have been anywhere near Acme Labs, nor at any other LuthorCorp property that had been broken into. Not with Jonathan Kent giving testimony to Lex's and Clark's whereabouts. And since nobody had come forth and said anything about a Porsche and a truck standing abandoned for hours, no other questions had to be answered.

"Clark, come back to me." Lex's hands cupping his head brought him back to the present. "It's over, love. Dar-El’s gone, my father is..." Lex’s gaze turned inward for a moment. "Well, I’m still working on that one, but he won’t be a problem for long. As for you and me we’re all right and together. I'm already healed and you have your voice back. Life is good." The last Lex underlined with a kiss.

Clark sighed. “I guess.”

Lex straightened and tapped Clark against the forehead. "Wrong answer," he said, sounding like a headmaster. "And don't slouch, young man. So, how is life?"

Getting to his feet, Clark saluted theatrically. "Good, sir, Lex, sir, boss." They grinned at each other.

"Much better." Lex turned away and walked towards his drinks cabinet. "You want something?" he asked, always the perfect host.

Watching his lover's backside, Clark's grin became lascivious. "Yes," he answered aloud, continuing silently, 'But it's not a drink. Not yet anyway. Maybe afterwards, after we've been sweating a little.'

That thought stopped Lex dead in his track. As he turned around again, Clark sat down on the edge of the desk, his hands behind him on the smooth surface. Once he was sure he had his lover's full attention, he let his hands slowly slide backwards, his body following. He wanted to display himself as best as possible, hoped his tight jeans would stretch at the right places, his t-shirt cling to every muscle. He knew his plan was working, when he saw Lex swallowing rapidly, his gaze intense.

Suddenly Clark felt something at his hand. 'The phone!' he realized in alarm as he knocked it from the desk. He spun automatically to catch it, only to send something else flying. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it was the box of St. George, and cursed himself for being a klutz. But then Lex was there, catching the jewel box and clutching it to his chest as if his life depended on it. Clark stared in disbelief at his lover. For a moment everything around him seemed frozen until the sound of the telephone shattering to pieces on the ground, pulled him out of that state.

"Lex?" he asked tentatively, not sure what he wanted to say.

"It survived when I threw it down, but I think this time it's totaled," Lex said, looking at the telephone. He was still holding the box, but his grip had eased.

"Lex..." Clark tried again, still lacking for more words.

"What?" Obviously reacting to Clark staring at the box in his hands, Lex looked slightly embarrassed. "I didn't want you to get hurt, I forgot that it doesn't hold any green kryptonite anymore."

Clark smiled. That was his Lex, if people would only get that. Which reminded him: "How did you get to the box in time? You were over there at the cabinet, and then you were suddenly here holding the box. I didn't see you move at all."

Lex shrugged. "I just sprinted, I guess."

"From there to here, around the chair, in time. Ehum, sure. I'm going to call you Carl Lewis then, okay?"

Narrowing his eyes, Lex looked from where he stood now to where he had stood before; Clark could almost see the calculator that was Lex's brain work. "You're right," he said finally. "I couldn't have made it. But I did." He looked at Clark, his expression one of hope. "I must have super-sped. Just like you. It seems I'm getting Dar-El's powers after all."

There was no other word for it, Lex was definitely beaming. It was impossible to not be swept up in his enthusiasm. "We have to test this. It's incredible. How did you learn to control your speed?"

"Ehm..." For a moment Clark was taken aback, but then he grinned, this one was easy. "By running, of course."

"Of course." Lex laughed. "Then come on, E.T., get off your lazy alien butt." With that Lex grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door.

Following his lover willingly, but somehow feeling as if he had missed something, Clark asked eventually where they were going.

"Outside." Lex explained eagerly. "Care for a race?"

"Why not?" Clark nodded. It wasn't at all why he had come to see Lex, but he liked running, and if it made Lex happy, and if he could really run as fast as Clark... now that would be great. No, it would be fantastic. Suddenly Clark was just as curious as his friend.

If he hadn't already admired his beloved alien then Lex would have started now. Controlling a superpower was hard work, and if something as natural for a human as running was already such a task, then Lex wasn't sure he wanted to find out about x-ray and heat vision. Ha, who was he kidding? Of course he wanted those abilities too.

Looking down at his dozing friend, Lex marveled once more about the miracle Clark was, not only because he came from another planet, but because he was such a wonderful creature, beautiful, brave and kind. And he loved him, Lex Luthor – that was probably the most astonishing part of all.

Gently stroking a lock from Clark's forehead, Lex leaned down and kissed his miracle awake.

"Hmm." Blue-green eyes blinked at him. "Where are we?" Clark murmured, slowly sitting up.

"Good question." Lex smiled, enjoying his lover's open, slightly confused expression. They had started their running slowly, at a human pace, gradually speeding up, and if not for the world around them suddenly rushing by even faster than when he drove his Ferrari, he wouldn't have realized that they had passed into super-speed. It had been exhilarating, wonderful. The closest thing to flying Lex could imagine, freedom. He hadn't wanted the race to ever end, so they had run on and on, until they had found themselves on a beach. Or, as far as Lex was concerned, in cold blue seawater, because he hadn't been able to lessen his velocity in time. Clark -- ever the hero – had come after him, afraid he would drown beneath the high waves.

"Ah, right." Clark smiled and looked around, pointing at their clothes lying in the sand. "Think they're dry by now?"

"I believe so, but if not you could always dry them with a hot gaze," Lex suggested, standing up. Once they had left the ocean, they had stripped and warmed each other as lovers alone on a sunny beach were prone to do.

Afterwards they'd tested if any other abilities had snuck up on Lex unnoticed, but it soon became clear that he wasn't able to lift Clark for real without hurting his back, that he couldn't light a match with a glare, nor look through anything that wasn't glass, that all he could hear were the waves and some irritating birds nearby and that his thoughts stayed his own, no matter how much Clark wished for a two-way telepathic bond.

Lex hadn't really expected anything else, after all Clark hadn't gotten his powers all at once, either. There was still the chance the others would show up eventually. Clark wasn't so sure about that, especially concerning strength, pointing out that he had been extraordinarily strong for as long as he or his parents remembered, and running fast had followed closely. Only the other powers seemed to be related to puberty, or whatever a Kryptonian went through at this age.

Shrugging, Lex had suppressed his disappointment. It would have been cool to literally be able to crush opponents in his hands, but considering his temper it was probably better if super-strength and heat vision weren't in his repertoire. Somehow he doubted that there were any anger management courses prepared to deal with that. And he could just imagine what the Kents would have to say about a Luthor having dangerous powers.

"So, E.T.," Lex asked, as they donned their clothes, "how do you find your way home after such a long race?"

Clark blushed. "I look for the next road with state signs and such things, and then follow them until I'm back in Kansas, and from there..."

"You're kidding, right?" Brushing the sand from his pants, Lex looked up. "You aren't."

"It works." Clark shrugged.

"Then let's go, I'd like to be home before nightfall." He reached for Clark's hand.

"What's the hurry?"

"Apart from your curfew. You do have one, don't you?" At his lover's nod, Lex continued, "It would look odd if I stayed away until late at night. My public image is tarnished enough. Remember, not only do I have a lot of work to do as the new head of LuthorCorp, I'm also supposed to be in mourning. Though, thank god, it's common knowledge that my father and I weren't very close, so nobody expects tears or the like. But I don't need any more rumors concerning my sex life, especially no true ones. Looking like I ran into several walls when I did those first interviews has given them enough to speculate. They'll learn about you soon enough."

He was gifted with a broad smile. 'Once I'm in college.'

"Yes, once you're in college," Lex nodded.

As they started to run, Lex remembered the last few days, the hordes of reporters hunting him like he was the last game on Earth. And, after that, being stalked by vicious LuthorCorp lawyers and board members. He reminded himself to thank Sheriff Adams for her professionalism and discretion. How she had managed to convince the Metropolis Police that he had a sound alibi without telling them exactly what he had been doing at the time, he couldn't imagine, but he knew without a doubt that he had her to thank for the fact that neither Clark nor Jonathan had found themselves on the front page of a tabloid.

'You all right?' Clark's question interrupted his thoughts. 'You're slowing down.'

Instead of answering verbally, he squeezed his lover's hand and sped up again. Now was not the time to think about the past or work, now was the time to relish his new ability and be happy. He had very good healing powers and super-speed; he could yet make a hero.

March 14th

"It's time to say goodbye, Strand," Hardy said with a grin as they stopped in front of Belle Reve's main gate. "I'm going to miss you."

Lionel didn't reply, but graced him with a look that was almost sympathetic – almost. Hardy was on top of Lionel's 'to kill' list, so it was easy to let him have this final triumph. Final in every way.

Dismissing the orderly from his mind, he scrutinized the two men waiting for him. One was a large black man, wearing a medic's white coat, the other an equally tall white man, wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket. Behind them Lionel could see an ambulance waiting – everything to make this scam of transferring him to another institution look convincing. Lex had done a good job of it.

'Lex.' As he followed his new 'guards', Lionel was contemplating how to deal with his son. There was a lot they had to talk about, a lot of things Lionel would not easily forgive. Oh, no, he wasn't happy with his son. It definitely seemed Lex needed to learn some lessons anew.

When he heard the gate close behind him, Lionel stopped and looked upwards at the sky. He had never appreciated the sun before, but now he did. Two weeks in that room had almost made him crazy, although feeling closed in had been the least of his problems. No, the worst was the constant feeling of being watched, as if someone was with him in that room, when no one was actually there. And the cold. He hadn't been warm since Hardy had told him that Lionel Luthor was dead, burned in one of his laboratories.

"Come on, Strand. We haven't got all day." It was the white guy who had spoken, and who was now grabbing his arm, leading him towards the back of the ambulance. "Get in."

He did as he was told, looking skywards once more, before settling in.

"Don't worry, where you're going there'll be more than enough sunshine for you."

Surprised at the words, Lionel looked at the blond man, clad all in black, who was already sitting in the car. A car that from the inside looked less like an ambulance and more like a prisoner's transport.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, jerking involuntarily when the black man sat down opposite him and the doors were closed with a 'bang'.

"Just that we're your travel service to a very remote island, where you'll have all the time in the world to communicate with the sun." Laughter followed that statement.

Lionel swallowed. 'Lex wouldn't dare...' "You don't know who I am, do you?" His voice was rising in anger, but one look from the blond stopped him.

"No, and we don't care." The blond was speaking softly. "But we know Lex Luthor, and he’s paying us well for getting you there. He said something about you wanting to rule the world; now he’s giving you a small place where you can rule all you want." The slight grin on the man's face told Lionel all he needed to know, the guy was enjoying this, he wouldn't be persuaded to change sides.

'This point goes to you, son, but the war isn't yet over.' Lionel leaned back and closed his eyes. He knew Lex, knew he wouldn't have to worry about starving or anything, Lex would make sure that he had everything he'd need to survive. Lex was sentimental like that. Something that would be his downfall eventually.

"How remote?" he asked after a while, already calculating how he could draw attention to himself, once he was on that island.

"Let's put it this way," this time the black man spoke, "if there's a place where dinosaurs are still living, you'll have a good chance of encountering them first, Strand."

It wasn't the laughter of the two men across from him that chilled Lionel to the bone, but the feeling of someone else laughing, someone sitting right next to him, and the sudden realization that even if he was found by someone, it wouldn't be Lionel Luthor, billionaire, who'd be found, but a nobody. A brown eyed, dark haired man without a past – a man without a future.

Maybe Lex had won after all.

There was no question in Clark's mind that he had won this round. After all it wasn't his fault that Lex was ticklish, nor was it his fault that Lex had expected another kind of 'assault'.

"That was unfair," Lex said predictably, still a little out of breath from laughing.

"All is fair in love and war," Clark countered, then leaned down and sealed any further protest away with a kiss. Not that he doubted for a moment that Lex had expected to lose, though probably in a different manner. Most of their challenges were meant to ensure that there really were only happy winners in the end.

A quick motion and suddenly Clark found himself beneath his lover, their naked bodies sliding sensually together, as Lex’s blue eyes gazed down at him in a mixture of awe and mischief.

'What?' he asked silently, not sure he wanted to break the spell by speaking out loud. 'What are you thinking?'

"That you're beautiful in the sun. Perfect. And all mine." The last was added with a possessive growl, and Clark shivered in anticipation. They were alone here on this hill, he day was sunny and warm, and he wouldn't mind another bout of sex in the open – not at all.

"Yes, I am," he admitted, because he knew how much it affected Lex, and because he liked to say it.

His parents would probably throw yet another fit, if they ever heard that, but Clark didn't really care. Like Lex had said a few days ago, life was good and that was all that mattered. Except…

'Are you sure it's a good thing to pack Lionel off to that island?' he asked, while sucking at Lex's bottom lip.

With a sigh Lex leaned back. "It's highly unfair that you can kiss and ask questions. Yes, I think it's a good idea. I want him as far away as possible, somewhere without a phone – his daily calls were getting on my nerves."

Clark laughed at his lover's grimace. "I get that." And he did. It would be great if all problems could just be put on a ship or a plane and shipped off.

"Any more questions, Clark? Because I'd really like to concentrate on making you pay for your misbehavior earlier."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clark replied, trying for his best I-am-innocent-and-good expression. "But I'm done, so you can do your worst, Hungry Eyes." Smiling he lay down again, spreading his arms. He was sure he would like whatever was coming.

Lex didn't keep him waiting. He leaned down and their mouths met in a slow, lingering kiss that had them both panting and fiercely aroused. Clark ran his hands down Lex's back, enjoying the way slick muscles rippled at his touch. His fingers brushed over hips and thighs, teasing his lover, while their bodies slid together.

They rolled around on the blankets they had brought with them, letting the passion grow, until it was time for more. Hands skimmed over sweat-sheened skin, lips met tenderly, teeth scraped and nipped lightly. Finally, Lex rolled him on his back in one swift move, pinning him down with a grin.

"How am I doing so far?" Lex asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Hmm," Clark replied softly, arching against his lover.

He reached up, capturing Lex's mouth and nibbled at his lower lip, bathing it wantonly until Lex groaned helplessly. Clark eased back, moving to the elegant neck, sucking on the tender skin until it left a mark. His hands reached down to grasp Lex's buttocks, kneading the soft mounds, and he thrust his body against Lex's, hips moving upward with a whimper.

Lex mock glared at him. "I was supposed to be the one doing unspeakable things to you," he groused, hips jerking at Clark's insistent touch.

"Next time," Clark managed to gasp out.

He slid his body against Lex's, trembling with arousal, hissing sharply as Lex thrust back. The pace began to grow frantic, their need to touch unbearable. Hands, lips, tongues worked together to create the maximum pleasure, lapping, sucking, nibbling until they were both whimpering continuously. Bodies rubbing together with wild passion, lips locked in an all-consuming kiss, they drove each other over the edge. They came together, bodies spasming as the shattering release robbed them of all their remaining strength.

When he was able to move again, Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, listening as he tried to regain his breath. 'You okay, Hungry Eyes?' he thought, nuzzling Lex's cheek tenderly.

Lex chuckled faintly, before stretching lazily. "Oh, yeah. I'm king of the world."

Clark rolled his eyes, amused. "You must've suffered some kind of meltdown there, Darwin. That's one of the cheesiest lines I've ever heard."

Lex lifted his head and looked down at him with a teasing grin. "It worked for Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet."

"Yeah? Well, he had more hair."

In retaliation Lex bucked against him, and Clark gasped as he felt a definite twitch in his groin. Lex laughed as he evidently felt Clark's hardening cock.

"You know," he purred into Clark's ear. "I once heard that an erection is like the Theory of Relativity. The more you think about it, the harder it gets. Want to test that... theory?"

Clark laughed. "Geek," he said fondly. "Only you would mix science and sex together. We'll have to wait, though. I still have chores to do and we really don't want to get on my Dad's bad side, not if we want to spend the weekend at the mansion."

Lex nodded. "Let's pack and head out, then." He leered. "We can always finish our... research tonight. You think your parents would mind too much if we showed up at the farm with no clothes on? It'd save time later."

Clark gave him an exasperated look. "Lex, I know you love to aggravate my dad, but don't push it, okay?"

Lex gave him a little-boy grin, all mischievous eyes. "It was just a thought, E.T.."

Clark had to laugh when his lover suddenly began to softly sing 'You Can Leave Your Hat On'.

'Cheesy, hm? I can do cheesy,' Lex thought and switched to humming 'I Will Follow Him' under his breath, while he watched Clark putting together the leftovers from their picnic, at normal speed. It was good to see his lover laugh again, and to hear him speak.

When Clark had wondered why he'd suddenly regained his voice, Lex had suggested the red kryptonite to be the reason, its effects only partly examined. Clark and his father had accepted that, not asking for specifics. Mrs. Kent on the other hand had cornered him a few days ago, asking what he really thought.

"I really do think it was the red kryptonite, just not in a physical way, but in a psychological manner," he had said, truthfully. "I believe being mute was Clark's way of punishing himself for Lana's death. Under the influence of the red kryptonite he wasn't feeling guilty anymore, and thus he was healed."

Martha had looked at him strangely for a while, then had nodded and left to do some work. He couldn't be sure, but he still thought that, in that moment, she had forgiven him for sleeping with her baby boy. It had probably helped that he hadn't been wearing the red kryptonite ring anymore, raising questions he really wasn't prepared to answer.

As it was, he'd have liked to wear it; after all, Clark had basically betrothed them with it, but it had never really fit his hand, since it had been a replica of Clark's personal school ring. It had always been about Clark. And now the ring was back in its box, where it belonged. Still, exchanging rings... That was something to be kept in mind.

"Can we go?" Clark asked, standing at his side, all their things packed in a large basket.

"Of course." Lex grinned.

And then they were running towards the farm, side by side, faster than the human eye could see. Lex let out a shout of sheer bliss as he raced down the hill with Clark. Speed was the only power he had gained as far as anyone knew, and that suited Lex just fine. And if sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, there was a glow burning in his eyes, it could very well be the heat of his love for Clark, couldn't it?

This is not the end.
It is not even the beginning of the end.
But, it is, perhaps,
the end of the beginning

© 22 May 2005 / 9 June 2005 / 13 March 2006