kitten
20th April 2006, 22:29
Acceptable Wisdom (one-shot)
R-rated Fragile missing scene
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the television show Smallville. If I did I’d be very ashamed and covered in money dirtied with Lexana. For some reason I think I'd also be an impotent dirty old man.
Distribution: I have posted these stories and have control of them on this site. I don't want them to be posted anywhere else unless I'm the one posting them. Please take down my stories if you have them posted on another archive site. I understand I can't stop you from doing this but I hope by asking politely you'll respect my work and my wishes. If anyone has more comfort and convenience saving the text of a story to their own computer, I have no problem with that.
Spoilers: Up to Fragile, Season five.
A/N: I watched the episode and didn’t like it for all the reasons that most of the N-S members didn’t. Lexana is stupid. A little dialogue between Lionel and Lex appeared in my brain. Warning for sexual language and dual-Luthor hypnosis. I can’t look away from both of them in a scene. Too bad having a father and son speak to each other is so improbable.
Acceptable Wisdom
"There seem to be a lot of young women running away from you lately," Lionel reflected, tilting his glass to the lamp to light up his scotch. "It might be an indicator your charm is waning."
His father had appeared late one night, not very coincidentally the same night Lana kissed him and ran away. Lex was rarely pleased to see his father at any time in his life, and he had been enjoying the neglect while seducing Martha Kent took up Lionel’s time.
"Let’s get to the point, Dad," he said caustically, making the last word acidic. "How do I get rid of you for another few months?"
"Relax, son, I’ll be leaving as soon as I am allowed to dispense some valuable advice. Humor my attempt to be paternal and we’ll be each on his own separate lonely road once more."
Shifting in the leather armchair, Lex turned a sigh into a sneer. "Let it rip, I’m prepared to be condescended to."
His drink just at his mouth, the older Luthor frowned. His purpose was sincere. There was no gain in continuing the family line only to produce cretins where there might be genius.
"Try to look past the source of the advice and accept the wisdom behind it. I have only ever considered us business rivals. Your personal life has never needed my help to fall apart," Lionel pointed out, gesturing around the room with his drink. "At least I’m not aware of a happy marriage, unless you’ve managed it in the past day."
His son’s sullen glare into the fire bade him to keep speaking
"Miss Sullivan came to see you a few days ago, presumably regarding Miss Lang. She most likely ‘told you off’ for your advances on the grounds that her friend has only recently split up with Clark Kent. Am I correct?"
Lex stubbornly froze, but Lionel nodded as if confirmation had been given.
"I care very little for Miss Lang’s emotional state or her treatment by you; but for one certainty you seem to be ignoring. It will never work to your satisfaction," he said decisively.
A cold stare turned to him, his son’s hands closing into fists on the arms of
his chair. The buttons on his shirt strained slightly as his chest puffed up with anger.
"Thanks for the discouragement. Call the next time your feel like stopping by," he bit out.
Lionel gave a humorless chuckle and shook his regrown mane. The boy was stubborn, but he listened despite himself. He had a mania for knowing everything he could, even if he didn’t agree with what he learned. It was his job as a father to protect him from the information that would cause more harm than good.
"Miss Sullivan was right to dissuade you from your misguided desire for her friend. You must know by now it’s not real. You’re merely recreating a happiness that never existed. Your mother loved you, but she is long dead. Don’t dishonor her memory by trying to replace her."
Scoffing, the young man stood up and paced quickly to the bar. That was a rich sentiment from the man who had tried to replace his mother with thousands of women. He dropped ice cubes into a glass, put it down without pouring anything and went back to stand over his father.
"I’m tired of this perpetual game," he said, face shaded with dark hollows in his cheeks. "I’m no longer following your orders. I run the company and my life. You’ve done your duty - go back to chasing after widows."
He saw the slap coming and held his ground, tensing his neck against it and feeling the sting on his cheek. A brief look of memory and remorse crossed Lionel’s face before an arrogant expression fell on the sharp features.
"I won’t have you spreading unsavory stories about Martha Kent. She is an upstanding, ethical woman who will do a lot of good as a senator."
"Done. A reputation of sour grapes toward a senatorial widow won’t help my next campaign," he agreed flatly. Striding over to the bar again, he shrugged dismissively.
"This was not why I came . . . Son, you are wasting too much time and energy wooing Lana Lang. She will never love you and if you’re trying to use her as leverage, her connection to Clark Kent has broken down. Chloe is more aware of whatever dark secret you think is so vital to uncover."
A hefty drink in hand, the bald billionaire returned and sat on the arm of the chair he had used, looking impatient.
"Chloe is less likely than Clark to tell me," he asserted. "She won’t break under pressure and if your spies haven’t reported it already, she and I aren’t in caring and sharing mode presently."
"Because you squandered the bond she felt for you. I made the same mistake. Mr. Kent seems to have learned his lesson, however. She’s a surprisingly powerful force."
There was a pleased tilt to his father’s lips when he talked about her. The compliment seemed genuine. Chloe had been trusted with more secrets of his sire than a lot of LuthorCorp executives. She had used the hints to dig for more and been successful in a way that precluded luck.
"As I recall, you tried to kill her," Lex said. "Silly of her to take offense."
Lionel took a drink and held it in his mouth, swallowing leisurely, nodding as if the statement hadn’t been ironic.
"It was a recognition of her abilities, and a difficult decision. I enjoyed her more than she knew. For a long time I couldn’t decide between fucking her and eating her."
A flinching jaw muscle betrayed Lex’s revulsion to the idea. His father’s stupid law of the jungle metaphor didn’t make it funny or absurd. He drank to distract himself.
"I imagine you grappled with the same choice. Those months as her protector must have been bliss and torment combined."
Even less of a reaction from his son, so Lionel talked almost to himself, voice lowering to a purr.
"She’s very appealing to men like us. For that year I slept with blonds almost exclusively to relieve the . . . tension. I love a woman who can give as good as she gets. Unfortunately, I had to deny myself."
Darting a sly glance to Lex, the man noted a stiffness in his frame. The topic made him much angrier than anything about Lana Lang. The blond reporter was simply more invigorating.
"I think Chloe tastes like a fine scotch," he said idly. "Shadowed and peaty. Fleshy with strains of sweetness, and a depth that makes you feel you could hold it on your tongue for hours and find new facets."
The glass in his son’s hand trembled as his grip increased. A few more provocations and the attentions he was trying to focus on Lana Lang would be unalterably tied to the residual fascination for Chloe Sullivan. Making the simple gesture obscene, he finished his drink and rolled it in his mouth before swallowing.
"Of course, if you’re intent on the barely legal, I’m sure Miss Lang tastes sweet - like those hard candies playing an ubiquitous role on every secretary’s desk. A lump of pure sugar with colors to fool you into believing there’s a flavor underneath. Pure sweetness isn’t the worst thing in a woman," he concluded, his tone diplomatic.
Lex stood up and faced the fireplace, filled with outrage. The taunts and jabs hit harder some days, and he had a very hard day already.
"This has absolutely made up for the birds and bees talk we never had," he mocked tightly. "Thank you for your many repugnant insights."
Lionel stood easily, smirking and relaxed. He had laid the groundwork to prevent an insipid girl from ruining his son. Ridiculous to think Lex Luthor’s downfall could be an unremarkable foundling searching for a replacement daddy. Even more absurd that she was simultaneously being painted as the substitute for Lillian. The loss of the election, company projects of little commercial value and an air of unreliability were all to blame on this preoccupation with Lana Lang.
"I felt obligated to prevent your looming failure. I don’t know Miss Lang personally, but I know Chloe quite well. If she ever kisses you she’ll not be running away. You might put some thought into the woman you’re so fixated on," he said, nearing the door. "Goodnight Lex."
The click of the latch behind him sent Lex’s mind back to the moment before Chloe left. He had snarled some pathetic insult about her romantic status and she had to think for a moment before her return volley.
"I don’t need one with you and your father screwing me so consistently."
There had been no pain in the green gaze that turned contemptuously away. She didn’t mind the insult. Clark had allowed her an equal place in something they all knew was infinitely larger than a romance. It meant more than any plans Lex could have made for Lana.
Stark, ugly bitterness made him put down his drink. It was disconcerting to hear his own thoughts about Chloe voiced by his father. It was all true. Lana couldn’t compete with the blond. His seduction would have fallen apart long ago if not for a simple fact of life. Young women who lived together tended to share clothing and make up. They used the same laundry detergent to save money, and recommended products that worked well. Standing in Chloe and Lana’s shared dorm room it was impossible to distinguish between the scents of the two occupants.
But Lex had been close to both of them and he could tell the fates had smiled on him in one small way. When Lana had lurched clumsily at his mouth she had been wearing the same perfume Chloe wore the previous day. The scent from the ruby glass bottle he had given her in the safe house, bought in Paris while he was thinking of her locked away from the sun. He hadn’t needed to pretend once his eyes snapped shut. If she smelled so like Chloe she must be Chloe.
And the taste in his mouth during the kiss might have been pure sweetness, but he had tasted the substantial harmonies of scotch.
R-rated Fragile missing scene
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the television show Smallville. If I did I’d be very ashamed and covered in money dirtied with Lexana. For some reason I think I'd also be an impotent dirty old man.
Distribution: I have posted these stories and have control of them on this site. I don't want them to be posted anywhere else unless I'm the one posting them. Please take down my stories if you have them posted on another archive site. I understand I can't stop you from doing this but I hope by asking politely you'll respect my work and my wishes. If anyone has more comfort and convenience saving the text of a story to their own computer, I have no problem with that.
Spoilers: Up to Fragile, Season five.
A/N: I watched the episode and didn’t like it for all the reasons that most of the N-S members didn’t. Lexana is stupid. A little dialogue between Lionel and Lex appeared in my brain. Warning for sexual language and dual-Luthor hypnosis. I can’t look away from both of them in a scene. Too bad having a father and son speak to each other is so improbable.
Acceptable Wisdom
"There seem to be a lot of young women running away from you lately," Lionel reflected, tilting his glass to the lamp to light up his scotch. "It might be an indicator your charm is waning."
His father had appeared late one night, not very coincidentally the same night Lana kissed him and ran away. Lex was rarely pleased to see his father at any time in his life, and he had been enjoying the neglect while seducing Martha Kent took up Lionel’s time.
"Let’s get to the point, Dad," he said caustically, making the last word acidic. "How do I get rid of you for another few months?"
"Relax, son, I’ll be leaving as soon as I am allowed to dispense some valuable advice. Humor my attempt to be paternal and we’ll be each on his own separate lonely road once more."
Shifting in the leather armchair, Lex turned a sigh into a sneer. "Let it rip, I’m prepared to be condescended to."
His drink just at his mouth, the older Luthor frowned. His purpose was sincere. There was no gain in continuing the family line only to produce cretins where there might be genius.
"Try to look past the source of the advice and accept the wisdom behind it. I have only ever considered us business rivals. Your personal life has never needed my help to fall apart," Lionel pointed out, gesturing around the room with his drink. "At least I’m not aware of a happy marriage, unless you’ve managed it in the past day."
His son’s sullen glare into the fire bade him to keep speaking
"Miss Sullivan came to see you a few days ago, presumably regarding Miss Lang. She most likely ‘told you off’ for your advances on the grounds that her friend has only recently split up with Clark Kent. Am I correct?"
Lex stubbornly froze, but Lionel nodded as if confirmation had been given.
"I care very little for Miss Lang’s emotional state or her treatment by you; but for one certainty you seem to be ignoring. It will never work to your satisfaction," he said decisively.
A cold stare turned to him, his son’s hands closing into fists on the arms of
his chair. The buttons on his shirt strained slightly as his chest puffed up with anger.
"Thanks for the discouragement. Call the next time your feel like stopping by," he bit out.
Lionel gave a humorless chuckle and shook his regrown mane. The boy was stubborn, but he listened despite himself. He had a mania for knowing everything he could, even if he didn’t agree with what he learned. It was his job as a father to protect him from the information that would cause more harm than good.
"Miss Sullivan was right to dissuade you from your misguided desire for her friend. You must know by now it’s not real. You’re merely recreating a happiness that never existed. Your mother loved you, but she is long dead. Don’t dishonor her memory by trying to replace her."
Scoffing, the young man stood up and paced quickly to the bar. That was a rich sentiment from the man who had tried to replace his mother with thousands of women. He dropped ice cubes into a glass, put it down without pouring anything and went back to stand over his father.
"I’m tired of this perpetual game," he said, face shaded with dark hollows in his cheeks. "I’m no longer following your orders. I run the company and my life. You’ve done your duty - go back to chasing after widows."
He saw the slap coming and held his ground, tensing his neck against it and feeling the sting on his cheek. A brief look of memory and remorse crossed Lionel’s face before an arrogant expression fell on the sharp features.
"I won’t have you spreading unsavory stories about Martha Kent. She is an upstanding, ethical woman who will do a lot of good as a senator."
"Done. A reputation of sour grapes toward a senatorial widow won’t help my next campaign," he agreed flatly. Striding over to the bar again, he shrugged dismissively.
"This was not why I came . . . Son, you are wasting too much time and energy wooing Lana Lang. She will never love you and if you’re trying to use her as leverage, her connection to Clark Kent has broken down. Chloe is more aware of whatever dark secret you think is so vital to uncover."
A hefty drink in hand, the bald billionaire returned and sat on the arm of the chair he had used, looking impatient.
"Chloe is less likely than Clark to tell me," he asserted. "She won’t break under pressure and if your spies haven’t reported it already, she and I aren’t in caring and sharing mode presently."
"Because you squandered the bond she felt for you. I made the same mistake. Mr. Kent seems to have learned his lesson, however. She’s a surprisingly powerful force."
There was a pleased tilt to his father’s lips when he talked about her. The compliment seemed genuine. Chloe had been trusted with more secrets of his sire than a lot of LuthorCorp executives. She had used the hints to dig for more and been successful in a way that precluded luck.
"As I recall, you tried to kill her," Lex said. "Silly of her to take offense."
Lionel took a drink and held it in his mouth, swallowing leisurely, nodding as if the statement hadn’t been ironic.
"It was a recognition of her abilities, and a difficult decision. I enjoyed her more than she knew. For a long time I couldn’t decide between fucking her and eating her."
A flinching jaw muscle betrayed Lex’s revulsion to the idea. His father’s stupid law of the jungle metaphor didn’t make it funny or absurd. He drank to distract himself.
"I imagine you grappled with the same choice. Those months as her protector must have been bliss and torment combined."
Even less of a reaction from his son, so Lionel talked almost to himself, voice lowering to a purr.
"She’s very appealing to men like us. For that year I slept with blonds almost exclusively to relieve the . . . tension. I love a woman who can give as good as she gets. Unfortunately, I had to deny myself."
Darting a sly glance to Lex, the man noted a stiffness in his frame. The topic made him much angrier than anything about Lana Lang. The blond reporter was simply more invigorating.
"I think Chloe tastes like a fine scotch," he said idly. "Shadowed and peaty. Fleshy with strains of sweetness, and a depth that makes you feel you could hold it on your tongue for hours and find new facets."
The glass in his son’s hand trembled as his grip increased. A few more provocations and the attentions he was trying to focus on Lana Lang would be unalterably tied to the residual fascination for Chloe Sullivan. Making the simple gesture obscene, he finished his drink and rolled it in his mouth before swallowing.
"Of course, if you’re intent on the barely legal, I’m sure Miss Lang tastes sweet - like those hard candies playing an ubiquitous role on every secretary’s desk. A lump of pure sugar with colors to fool you into believing there’s a flavor underneath. Pure sweetness isn’t the worst thing in a woman," he concluded, his tone diplomatic.
Lex stood up and faced the fireplace, filled with outrage. The taunts and jabs hit harder some days, and he had a very hard day already.
"This has absolutely made up for the birds and bees talk we never had," he mocked tightly. "Thank you for your many repugnant insights."
Lionel stood easily, smirking and relaxed. He had laid the groundwork to prevent an insipid girl from ruining his son. Ridiculous to think Lex Luthor’s downfall could be an unremarkable foundling searching for a replacement daddy. Even more absurd that she was simultaneously being painted as the substitute for Lillian. The loss of the election, company projects of little commercial value and an air of unreliability were all to blame on this preoccupation with Lana Lang.
"I felt obligated to prevent your looming failure. I don’t know Miss Lang personally, but I know Chloe quite well. If she ever kisses you she’ll not be running away. You might put some thought into the woman you’re so fixated on," he said, nearing the door. "Goodnight Lex."
The click of the latch behind him sent Lex’s mind back to the moment before Chloe left. He had snarled some pathetic insult about her romantic status and she had to think for a moment before her return volley.
"I don’t need one with you and your father screwing me so consistently."
There had been no pain in the green gaze that turned contemptuously away. She didn’t mind the insult. Clark had allowed her an equal place in something they all knew was infinitely larger than a romance. It meant more than any plans Lex could have made for Lana.
Stark, ugly bitterness made him put down his drink. It was disconcerting to hear his own thoughts about Chloe voiced by his father. It was all true. Lana couldn’t compete with the blond. His seduction would have fallen apart long ago if not for a simple fact of life. Young women who lived together tended to share clothing and make up. They used the same laundry detergent to save money, and recommended products that worked well. Standing in Chloe and Lana’s shared dorm room it was impossible to distinguish between the scents of the two occupants.
But Lex had been close to both of them and he could tell the fates had smiled on him in one small way. When Lana had lurched clumsily at his mouth she had been wearing the same perfume Chloe wore the previous day. The scent from the ruby glass bottle he had given her in the safe house, bought in Paris while he was thinking of her locked away from the sun. He hadn’t needed to pretend once his eyes snapped shut. If she smelled so like Chloe she must be Chloe.
And the taste in his mouth during the kiss might have been pure sweetness, but he had tasted the substantial harmonies of scotch.