The Depths We Sink To (Chapter Twenty-Two)

Still spoiling stupid Hero. Not saying the ep wasn't rife with Chloe, Lex, and even one shining moment of Chlex. But it really was a stinker in most ways and I am sick of rewatching it.

Chapter 22

She watched him, sandwiched between him and the couch. One arm was thrown over the side of the couch, the other laying under her free arm. Free because one arm was trapped under him and dead asleep, just as he was. 

Funny that she was now the one bursting with energy. Her nerve endings were still tingling, endorphins racing through her system as if numbing what felt like a hell of a fall. Though there was no outward sign, she still felt tender all over. But it wasn't too bad. She wasn't going on many times using her powers, but considering she was knocked out for the bigger efforts, she wondered she wasn't out for the count right now.

She supposed she was more accustomed to concussions, scrapes, and what felt like a mild dislocation after all these years. They didn't have quite the punch of near-death, mentally. So maybe it was just mind over matter, though she suspected two orgasms might have helped that jump.

She was absolutely parched, however, but not enough to get up and do anything about it. She'd rather watch him some more. She was discovering a weakness for watching Lex Luthor sleep. He wasn't so scary asleep. He might be any man asleep and it was so much easier to look her fill of him when she could see him as just any man.

But he wasn't and that was the problem.

This island fantasy... It was just a suggestion, one of many alternatives to getting himself banged up time after time while trying to thwart a man trying to be a hero. Not that he knew that was what he was doing exactly. The idea of him actually doing it wasn't something she thought possible. The idea that she'd come with him unfathomable. 

So she kissed him. It was easier than answering. With his concussion gone now, it wasn't just delirious crazy talk. He really did think of getting away. He really did think of taking her with him. It wasn't something they'd really do, but it still deserved a kiss.

Because he wanted her. He knew she was a freak. He knew she held secrets she'd never tell. And he wanted her. And for more than just a hate-filled fuck. Somewhere between room 23 at The Paradise Motel and a weekend at Luthor Mansion, this was more. That deserved more than a kiss, so she gave more to him, depleted as she was. It was still easier than answering.

The idea of going away was just... ludicrous. She had so much to do here. Who would step up when Lex... She squinted at him. If Lex was going away, then so would be about eighty percent of her extracurricular workload. It wouldn't even be a selfish act, thinking of it that way. But there was still that twenty percent and if things collapsed because she was off sipping fruity drinks out of his navel...

No. She shouldn't even be entertaining the idea. It was like a betrayal of everything she stood for. The things he'd done, not just to her but to those closest to her and to countless... She stared at him again, her eyes softening as he sighed and his head fell closer to hers. It was so easy to forget the things he'd done when he slept.

She leaned forward, touching her lips to his, sort of slack and sleepy, but surprisingly soft for such a hard man. 

He moved lazily against her and she kissed him again. It was easier than thinking of all the things she should and shouldn't do. And maybe kissing him fell under things she shouldn't do, but that hadn't been stopping her all this time.

"I can't sleep," he said into her mouth, making her jump back into the back of the couch, "if you keep kissing me."

"Well... you're on my arm," she said lamely. 

He opened his eyes and moved his head, but not away. He moved into her, kissing her jaw. "You can move it now."

She did, sliding her hand up the back of his neck. She hummed lightly as he kissed his way down hers. This made it easy to forget, too, and harder to think, which was a good thing right now. She didn't want to think about tropical islands and the many reasons she had to take him down. Both were terrible thoughts in their different ways. One for being unreachable and one for being so close to unthinkable these days. How could she hurt him in any way when she... he...

"You want me," she breathed.

"Always want you," he breathed against her neck, moving over her now. 

It was something so simple. She didn't even need to think about it. It was something she figured out after the way he chased her down since that night in this very apartment. But it had always felt so threatening. But not now. She wondered when that had happened. Maybe, once again, somewhere between Room 23 at The Paradise Motel and tonight. There was something between them worth saving. Something in him worth saving.

"I feel it," she whispered.

"You could feel more of it if you opened your legs," he said, biting at her shoulder.

"No. I mean..." She lost what she meant as his lips slid to her breast. She squirmed against him and opened to him as he nibbled underneath. "That feels good."

"More where that came from," he murmured, sliding a hand down her body. "We could do this all day, you know."

"We practically do already." She swallowed a laugh as his finger circled her clit.

"But we do other things," he said against her. "Things we think we have to. But we don't, Chloe." He held her hips down when they rose under him. "We don't have to do any of this." He lifted his head. "Not if we got away."

Her eyes widened on his. He was talking about it again and she wasn't in any position to kiss him or do anything to stop it. She wheezed out a laugh instead. "You're crazy."

"I'm not." He sat up and shook his head. "I've never been clearer."

She pulled her legs back and against her chest. "No, you..." She stopped herself from pointing out that he'd taken a knock on the head as she didn't want to draw his attention to that injury -- or lack thereof. Let him think it was his own personal freak status... and later. "It's impossible," she said instead.

"I have enough money to make it possible."

"I don't mean that. I mean... Me. I couldn't. I... I have my work and..."

"What the fuck does work get you? I've worked my ass off for seven years and I have nothing."

She tried for another laugh. "Says the billionaire CEO with the..."

"Nothing I want. You've been swimming upstream as long as I've known you and what do you have?"

She stared back, realizing that she couldn't answer that. There was a muffled sound in the room. "Clark."

Lex stiffened. "Clark?"

"Clark. He's calling me." She knew the ring, even muffled. It was the shrillest, most annoying ring her phone had, sure to wake her from the deepest sleep in case Clark needed her and couldn't be at her side in seconds. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself. "Where the hell is my phone?"

"Why do you have to answer?"

She stilled, trying to find the balance between what was true and what he might believe, considering they both knew what the major event of the day was. But neither of them could just say it. "Listen, I know you and Clark aren't exactly pals these days, but he's my best friend and, when he calls..."

"You answer. Even past midnight." Lex stood, narrowing his eyes. "What's so urgent, Chloe?"

She straightened and stared down at him, narrowing her own eyes. Oh, screw that. He knew what was going on and she knew what was going on and the fact that they couldn't talk in any open way about what was going on was getting old. "It's about Pete," she said tartly, trying for that much truth. "You know, the newest freak in town." She watched his eyes widen -- probably waiting for her to reveal something. Fat chance. "Word was he was about to use his powers to commit some sort of crime. Clark was going to try to talk him out of it, last I heard." She waited for the anger, the justifications he would try to put on using Pete to steal from his father, what greater good he would pin it on, if he'd even admit to that much.

But he grew silent and the ringing followed suit, dying out. "So you... you haven't talked to Pete." The blood seemed to leave his face and she'd be concerned that she'd not done her job if she wasn't still so angry.

"All your talk about going away and you can't let anything go. Not even Pete. You're obsessed with... anything you can't get a piece of." She clenched her fists. "You could care less about Pete when he lived in Smallville. I guess he wasn't useful to you. Not like now."

He seemed to stiffen again. "So you do know."

"That you were trying to profit from his abilities? Strange behavior from a man so committed to shielding the world from the ever-dangerous freaks and I only hope Pete came to his senses in time." She took a deep breath. "But yes. I know."

He sank back against the couch and closed his eyes. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. And I know something else. That Pete wouldn't have even considered it if you hadn't used me as a... a bargaining chip." She folded her arms, securing the blanket around herself. "Want to deny that?"

"Chloe..."

"Don't even try to... Jesus! Where the hell is my phone?" she hissed, tossing their clothes over her shoulder and groping on the floor. "I can't believe I did this again." She got on her hands and knees, hands sliding under the couch. "I said I was done, but you have to swan in, all injured and..."

"Leave it." He grasped her shoulders and pulled at her.

She pulled back. "Let me go."

"No. You listen. You think what I do is some cruel crime against humanity. I see it as the only way to save us all, but..." His hands gentled. "None of that has anything to do with this. If this is separate, then we... we're separate. Or we could be. But not here." He pulled her inward and she let him, so tired now... "Maybe I am obsessed. But you know as well as I do that it's hard to sit by, watch the way things unfold around us and not do something. We're the same, Chloe. You had your Wall of Weird. I have my... my search for truth."

She couldn't think of a thing to say to that. He was right. If she'd never found out about Clark, would she still be piecing together all she could about him? Probably. But there was a difference. Their approaches. "And in your search for truth, you don't care who you hurt. People are just commodities to you."

"Not you. I meant what I said. I could get away if I just... didn't have to see it, I could drop this. But not without you. You're the only f*cking good to come of this. You and me. We'd never have to talk about this place. It'll be like... detox. Just anywhere else but..."

The shrill ring sounded again and he quieted. She could hear it now. Right under him.

She moved a hand free to dig between the cushions, but his hand grasped her wrist. 

"Don't answer it," he said.

She reached in again, but he held on. 

"We could go now. Right now." He suddenly smiled. "How about it, Sullivan? I've never seen you in a bikini."

She squinted at him, not buying that smile for a second. "Lex, let me answer my phone."

"No." He reached in and pulled out the phone. She moved to grab it with her free hand, but he tossed it away. It clattered against the floor and the ring died abruptly. 

"Lex! Damn it..."

"Don't you get it?" He grasped her other wrist and held on. "If I don't leave, I'll be too deep in. The time to stop is now. While I can still feel." He swallowed so hard she felt it. "I only feel when I'm with you."

She finally pulled free and stood straight. "You can't just... put that on me."

"Chloe..."

"No. You can't make that my problem. If you don't feel, I can't make you because you won't let yourself. Because if you let one in, then you let in all the other, including the one that's absolutely not allowed..." She trailed off as a new ring sounded. from the kitchen this time. "I'm getting that," she said levelly.

He didn't move to stop her, just sat on the couch, staring as she backed away.

She turned and ran the last few steps, grabbing the phone off the wall. "Yes, Clark? Hello?"

"I was trying to call you," Clark said, his voice rather harried.

"Yeah. I... dropped my cell. Thing's all wonky. You know how it is." She forced a laugh. "What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry. I was just in the ER and I couldn't use my cell and I didn't want to leave Pete until he was finally seen, which took about a year."

"The ER?"

"At Met Gen. I wish I'd taken him to Smallville, but he wouldn't let me. Didn't want people that knew his family asking questions. But here they have this thing about taking more severe injuries first and since he had no major bleeding, they made him wait --- even behind this guy who had what I know for a fact was a pretty shallow cut. You'd think they'd take in the guy that nearly had his arms torn off and was in blinding pain first, but..."

"What?!"

"Uh... No. I shouldn't have... Listen, I'm just frustrated. He's really fine. They're seeing him now and... he didn't do what Lex wanted."

"I figured that." Lex wouldn't have crawled to her, concussed and defeated if he'd got what he wanted. Her fingers tightened on the receiver. He might have been celebrating instead. "But what did Lex do?"

"What do you think? He tried to torture it out of him. Him and some cronie. I was lucky I got there in time. The doctor said he might have never had full use of his arm again if... What?" His voice grew distant. "Okay... I'll be right in.... Chloe?"

"Yes?" she gasped, leaning against the wall, marveling at how stupid she was.

"Pete's kind of doped up right now with them resetting his arm. They want to give me his meds. Listen... He really is fine. Don't worry."

"Okay," she choked out.

"I'll call you in the morning."

"Uh-huh. Bye." She heard the dial tone as she finally placed the phone back in the cradle. It took a few tries. She was shaking too badly. Not from worry. She knew Pete had survived worse the first time he left, the first time he was tortured.

Clark explained it to her later, the real reason Pete moved to Wichita. She'd wondered what kind of monster would do such a thing.

She turned, seeing just that kind of monster, zipping up his pants in her living room.

"Get out," she growled.

"I am," he said, bending to the floor and picking up a white shirt. He shook it out and even brushed it off before shrugging it on. He frowned as he did so, more bothered by some specks on his lily white shirt than the fact that he'd tortured her friend.

"You're a monster," she hissed

"I guess so," he said, buttoning up as if she hadn't just told him to get the fuck out.

Which she actually hadn't. "Get the fuck out," she nearly yelled.

"Working on it." He picked up his suit jacket, then seemed to look around for his coat. 

She saw it on the floor near the door and rushed to it. "Every time I see you as a... a human being, you have to prove me wrong." She grabbed it up and tossed it at him. 

It slid down his chest and to the floor. He bent to it.

"You want to know what you can't feel, Lex?"

"Not really."

"Guilt. And you should. You really should."

"Not that that stops you." He folded the coat over his arm with his jacket.

"You might justify what you do with some great end, but you can't admit that what you do to get it is sick and depraved and..."

"Please spare me the hysterics." He moved to the door, but she blocked it.

"I fucking save you and then you pump me full of lies about going away..."

"I wasn't lying." He gripped her shoulders and pulled her aside. "That was your chance. And you chose to answer the phone." He put his hand on the doorknob.

"My chance?" She laughed bitterly. "My chance for what? To leave my city? My dreams are here, at the Daily Pla... Well, they had been. Until you came along. Do you think I could even consider leaving my dreams for the man who destroyed them?"

"Destroyed them? How?" He turned back.

"You bought it, you fired so many great..."

"I didn't fire you, did I?"

She stared back at him. "Why didn't you?"

"It was a test, Sullivan. And you failed."

"What?"

"I wondered if you might still be lurking inside that shell, looking for the unexplained, but you aren't. You seem to go out of your way to give some rational explanation, never mind the truth. I didn't destroy your dream. You did."

"Go," she choked out.

He opened the door, but turned back again. "Save me? From what? I might have waxed a bit poetic at time. But don't you start thinking your pussy is so magical it can 'save me.' What a way to describe a fuck." He smirked. "I have had better."

She pushed him out and slammed the door.

It wasn't until she heard his steps move down the stairs that she sagged against it, slipping downward.

"So stupid, stupid, stupid," she sobbed. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to stop the tears. She wouldn't cry over him.

She hiccuped wetly and slid upwards, trying to take slow breaths.

She was done being stupid.


***************************


He stared at the stained glass window again. Something still tickled him about it. That V. Those tiny stars. Something so...

"Oh, fuck it." He poured another scotch and moved back toward the couch. He could hardly think about those greater mysteries. He was too damned distracted.

But why? Today was nothing new. This wasn't even a blip. 

He was home, drinking alone, and that was nothing new at all. In fact, this was just what he'd planned to do with his night before he'd somehow ended up at her place. He couldn't even remember how that...

He stopped in the middle of the room, some scotch sloshing over the glass. He switched hands and sucked at his fingers. He'd ended up there because he'd been delirious, having woke up on the floor after having been, apparently, bested by Pete Ross. That was new, he supposed. 

But nothing else was. Not her dropping everything for Clark, not her kicking him out, not her puffing up with purity. It was all very predictable and not surprising at all, so he refused to feel a moment of...

He stopped again, arrested by his own image in the stained glass above his desk. It seemed the same as always. He moved closer. 

That was the problem. He'd been upended and landed on his head. He'd been out for at least ten minutes last night and there was nothing. He wasn't slow to heal. He knew that. But he usually had at least a small bump. But there was nothing. He moved to touch his own head, Not even a...

"Mr. Luthor!"

He turned from the glass to find his assistant, wide-eyed in the doorway. "Gina." He looked in the mirror again. "Do you see any..."

"I didn't mean to intrude," she said stiffly, moving in. "I just found myself with excess paperwork." She placed a folder on the desk. "Mark's quit. It seems we're in need of a new personal guard... again."

"Never mind that," he said, staring into the glass again. He couldn't be sure. This was stained glass, not a mirror. "Come here."

She sighed heavily, but moved toward him. "Yes?"

"My head."

She shrugged. "What about it, Sir? I really would like to get home somed..."

He placed her hand on his head and she silenced herself. "Do you feel anything?"

Her fingers slid over his temple. "Nothing, Sir," she breathed, then smiled slightly. "If you're looking for an imperfection, you'll find nothing. Not with you."

"Doesn't make sense," he muttered.

"What doesn't?"

"Never happened so fast. I don't understand."

"Sir? Are you alright?"

"Yes. Fine." He shook her off and leaned against his desk. "That's the problem."

"I understand you had a fall. You must be sore. If you'd like a massage..."

"No. I just want..." He couldn't have what he wanted. "I need to get moving."

"Moving? Mr. Luthor, it's rather late. Why don't you just relax and I'll see if the kitchen can..."

He was just stuck, that was all. That was why he'd been so fixated on her. If he just had a reason to keep going, then he wouldn't be so easily distracted. This island fantasy was tantamount to giving up. And he couldn't give up. Maybe he didn't have the bracelet, but Kara had the pictures of the cave symbols. There was hope there. Something could stir her memory and who was she likely to come to should that happen? Him. He straightened and stared out the stained glass window as Gina rattled on. He wasn't stuck. He was only waiting.

"I hate waiting," he hissed, still unsatisfied.

"Well, I could get it myself if you'd prefer not to wait."

He turned back to her. "What?"

"The tea, Mr. Luthor." She stepped closer. "Or some valium. You seem so... troubled."

He stared back as her eyes nearly devoured him. He couldn't decide if he'd hired the best or worst assistant in history with her. Such blind devotion could go either way. He turned away. His eyes lit on the window again, then narrowed. "I need you to do some research."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor. Anything," she said breathlessly.

"My family crest. There's a formation in there that I find... interesting."

"Really?" She moved to stand beside him. "If you want me to research your tree, I suppose I could. But the name has no great ties, whatever your father wanted to pretend. All your gains were earned, which I actually think is more worthy of..."

"Yes. I know about all that." Luthors weren't the fruit of nobility. That only made the crest more interesting. "Just look..." He pointed at the V, then at the stars at its side. "I've been disturbed by it ever since..." Well, since that weekend with her. But, more than that, since he apparently "died." He'd found himself remembering things he hadn't in years. Things about his mother, his father, himself... He looked at the window again. It wasn't just shapes on glass anymore. "There's something about those stars I can't figure out."

"Well... They're stars," Gina suddenly said. "What's to figure? They most likely denote a constellation."

He turned to her, impressed. Maybe she was the best. "A constellation." He hadn't even thought of that. Hardly surprising, considering he'd been thinking of little else but a certain self-righteous blonde that... 

But that was over. That was something he wouldn't have again. The fleeting idea of personal happiness had been usurped by a ringing phone and petty ideals she couldn't let go of to see the big picture. Torturing Pete was just a necessary evil to get to the bracelet that got him to Kara Kent that got him to the mystery of Smallville's frequent visitors from another planet that got him to...

He didn't know what. Not yet. "Look into it," he said, pointing at the window as he moved away to the door, then to the stairway, then to his room, where he'd sleep. And not think about her. He wouldn't be so weak.

************************

She was just weak from last night. That was why she couldn't stop thinking of him, brooding on him, mulling over every moment. She just needed rest, needed her wits about her. This had been her first concussion. It was surprisingly hard to shake off. Two deaths and one little finger cut she'd healed now. She just had to get used to these middle-of-the-road injuries and what they entailed.

Apparently, they entailed an inability to get her mind where it should be -- which was not on Lex. Not at all. It was useless, even thinking of him. She could consider these thoughts part of a lesson in a cautionary tale, but it taught her nothing she didn't know. 

She dragged her eyes back to Bartlett's piece on unemployment rates. He made as much use of his spellcheck as Lois did, which is to say not at all. Why should they, when they had her so near? Correcting run-ons and bad punctuation was the most writing she got in these days, with Lex running things.

Her mind ran back to him as if it had legs.

It was a test, he'd said. Destroying everything she'd worked for since the age of eight was just a test. A means to an end. But she wasn't shocked. A part of her knew. Him acquiring the Daily Planet mere months after he'd barged in on her writing an expose on him was no coincidence. She wasn't shocked by what he'd said.

She wasn't shocked by what he'd done last night, either. Torturing a meteor freak wasn't exactly new to Lex, from what she knew of 33.1. No. This wasn't shock. This was disappointment. Not even in him. But in herself. He'd just done what, deep down, she'd known he would. It was why she held him off so many times, despite how very badly she needed the one thing he did give her. That feeling of being wanted. But at what cost did that come?

Every second with him was a betrayal. It wasn't even about what he did to Pete. Or her mother. Or her. It was that he could do these things to anyone. Use people so cruelly. 

He was right about one thing. They both craved the truth. She could understand the hunger for answers, but not the means he used to get them. And maybe she couldn't judge his fervor, having got closer to Clark's truth than he had. Maybe she'd be just as vigilant now. But not his way. It was what they did with the knowledge that mattered. She couldn't tell what he'd do but, seeing what he'd done to any freak he came across, meteor mutated or otherwise, she knew it wouldn't be pretty.

She knew what she did because she'd been tested there, too. She protected it. She knew some secrets were better kept. And maybe it went against everything she thought she'd wanted to be as a journalist. But it was for the best. If Clark were doing something terrible with his power, she'd expose him, try to bring him to justice with the pen if by no other means. But he wasn't. And there was no justice of the pen anymore. Not here. Not while the Daily Planet was run by Luthorcorp. Her world had been upended in so many ways and all she could do was get through each day. 

She'd picked a hell of a way to cope, sleeping with the very man who'd... 

She shook her head and moved to Bartlett's desk, placing the marked-up copy down. She didn't have time to analyze what she was or would be. And she didn't have time to berate herself for the past, for having let this affair with Lex go on so long. She just had to survive. But how much longer could she survive here with...

It didn't matter. She just had to get through today. That was a start.

"Hey, Chloe."

She was done thinking about it. She was done thinking. "Hey." She pasted on a smile and turned to Pete. She'd been waiting for him to come by. "Is this the Barry Bonds Pete or the Hank Aaron Pete?" she asked, trying to joke as she moved back to her own desk. If she could joke, she could get through this day.

Pete chuckled. So it seemed to work on him. "This is the 100 percent Pete Ross Pete. I just came by to apologize before I left."

"Clark told me what you did. Thank you." She came back around to him. "You risked your life to protect me. Now, that's not only Webster's definition of hero, it's mine, too. There's no apology needed." Yet she wanted to apologize herself. Not that she made it happen, but because he was waiting in an ER with a dislocated shoulder while she fucked the man who hurt him. If only she'd known... She kept her smile on, refusing to think about it. She couldn't change the past. And Lex was the past.

"Chloe, um... Lex told me you had a power." She glanced away. She knew that was what he was protecting. She wasn't sure she wanted to get into this. Her power was another thing she didn't want to think about, especially considering the use she'd put it to last night. She could have been healing Pete. "You don't have to tell me what it is." She smiled for real now. Because Pete meant that. That was one thing she could give Pete that she could give no one else in her life. There was an easiness to him, to being with him. No demands for honesty. She knew he'd protect her again, no question. "This...is for ruining your computer." He held out a red rose.

She smiled wider and took it. "Pete..." She smelled it, wished she could give him something, take him aside right now, lay her hands on him and make him better. But she didn't want to push herself after last night. And she knew he'd never ask it of her even if he knew. "Just promise me you won't let another light-year pass by before I see you again."

"You can count on it"

"Come here." she pulled him to her, wishing he'd stay. She had so few normal people, normal moments in her life. If it wasn't super-powered intrigue, it was a torrid affair and there was nothing simple and happy about any of it. But this was nice. She closed her eyes as he hugged back hard. She could do with more of this in her life. She opened her eyes on Jimmy in the doorway. "Hey!" She pulled away as Pete turned to him. 

"Jimmy. No hard feelings, man. I decided to live my life in anonymity."

Jimmy nodded. "I understand," he said quietly. "Some secrets are better kept."

She smiled at him, remarking that those were her thoughts exactly. Then again, Jimmy knew about her. All about her since that night in the elevator. 

Pete turned back to her. "See you soon."

"Yeah." Her eyes moved to Jimmy again. He was staring at her as if... A flash of green caught her eye. "Pete!" She moved to smack the gum out of his mouth.

"Relax. It's Kryptonite-free." He tossed her a pack of gum.

"Bye," she said, shaking her head.

Jimmy shuffled forward. "So you guys gonna be hanging out any time soon?" He faltered. "I just mean, it looks like Gumby found his Pokey. Unless you..."

"You were right the first time," she cut in to stop his abysmal jokes. "Pete and I are just friends."

"Cool. Yeah, that's cool." He staring at her in that funny way again. 

"What about you?" She moved around her desk, unsettled. "How was date night with Kara?" She tried to sound perky about it. She still wasn't exactly into him moving on so easily, not that she could talk...

"Uh, you know. Kara's great, but...I think the spark kind of fizzled for both of us."

"Sorry." She wanted to mean it. But there was this selfish part of her that missed... that bit of normal in her life. When she had him, she had something normal.

"No, you're not." She stared back, wondering how he knew that. "No, no, uh...what I meant was that I hope you're not." He sighed. "I should have just said that I'm not, right?"

He was staring again. Her eyes widened. She'd kind of given up on jimmy. Given up on... normal. But if he could...

"Is there any...interest in seeing if we can breathe some fire into this ember over a cup of coffee?"

She felt it again, that warmth she'd felt, saying goodbye to Pete. And she didn't hesitate to chase that warmth. "I'll bring the butane."

Jimmy smiled. "Okay, then. Uh... Yeah. I'll just..." He nodded behind him and backed away.

"Okay."

"So like... six or..."

"Six is fine."

"Great. So... Okay."

She smiled. "Okay." 

He nearly bumped into Darlene with the mail cart. "Oh, sorry."

She giggled as he walked away. This was good. She stared after him, reveling in the warmth. She was wanted. Maybe it wasn't passionate like... No. She wouldn't think of him anymore. 

But he wanted her. Jimmy knew about her, what she was, and she was still wanted. Maybe not in every way or he wouldn't have so easily moved on to Kara, but she wasn't sure about him. Maybe they didn't have to be sure. Maybe that made it even. She did want him, though. Maybe not with the fervor she'd always wanted Clark. But maybe interactions with men didn't have to be so intense. Maybe it's as simple as I like you and you like me and let's get coffee. 

It was simple. It was normal. It was uncomplicated. It was what she'd had with Jimmy before. And it was what she needed again.

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He needed answers. He had nothing else these days.

He paced, glancing again in the mirror over a lower shelf. He'd been waiting for a bruise to form, anything that might prove he'd landed on his head on a stone floor last night. He should be glad, but it only irritated him. He'd never healed so quickly bef... That wasn't true. The same thing had happened last week. He'd come out of a gunshot wound to the head without even a headache. Whatever his father claimed about the healing serum from Queen Laboratories, there should at least be a scar.

Was his own power growing? He hated the idea of it. That he was just another freak, but he'd have to have his white blood cell count checked again. Someone discreet, of course. Someone under his employ. Someone with Black Cr...

He turned away from the mirror and toward the window. he had bigger things to think of than himself. He stared at his family's crest again. Then again, even this was all about him. About being a Luthor. Even that alluded him: what that meant. Why couldn't he have some easily translated Latin words to decipher? Why did it have to be wonky stars and...

"Mr. Luthor." It was Gina. He turned. He could hear from the easily concealed satisfaction in her voice that she had something for him. "I checked with the Metropolis Observatory about the constellation in your family crest." She could barely conceal the near-smugness as she opened the folder she was carrying. "The last time these stars were configured in this exact arrangement was October 7th, 1989."

Lex regarded her, surprised. She may be the best assistant he had, after all. "The day of the first meteor shower," he observed.

"And there's something else," she began, turning a page.

There was a knock and he nearly wanted to tell them to go away. He was finally getting somewhere but... there she was. And in white again. Like an angel. Or like a beacon pointing the way. He was never sure which.

He only nodded to Gina and she closed the folder, moving out. He stared after her, gratified again. It really was hard to find good help. He smiled at Kara Kent.

She came forward anxiously. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"I thought I made myself clear." Lex moved to meet her. "You're always welcome here."

Kara smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." She glanced away briefly. "I don't trust Clark and Lana any more and the idea of living with them on the farm..." She met his eyes steadily. "Hope you don't mind, Lex, but I was wondering if I could stay here, with you."

He smiled. If you asked him five minutes ago, he'd say he'd lost everything. Then Gina came, then Kara... Suddenly, everything he'd ever wanted was in his grasp.

He moved forward as Kara smiled back hesitantly. Not everything I wanted, he thought as he closed the study doors. But he had everything he needed. Or he would soon. He'd have the truth. 


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