Day Twenty-Five: Admitting Impediments

Lana saw him getting out of the taxi, his hair caught in a gust of frigid New York wind, and her breath caught in her throat. He straightened and it seemed to take hours, the length of his body unfolding to fit effortlessly amongst the elongated buildings that surrounded him. Standing on the hotel steps, the bustle of wedding preparations behind her, she watched as he put down his bags and stared at the sky, making no move to go inside the hotel. Pulling back under the shadow of the awning, Lana decided not to approach him. He'd come inside when he was ready.

***

The soft knock at her door barely registered on her conscious mind, and Chloe willfully ignored the subsequent sounds, concentrating instead on the screen in front of her until the unwanted intrusion made itself impossible to ignore.

"Chloe. You're late. Again."

Keeping her eyes on the work in front of her, her fingers never pausing in their work, Chloe grinned.

"Just two more minutes! This is important, Lex. If I can finish it now and mail it in, it should make the evening edition."

Soft susurration of expensive shoes across carpet. "I appreciate that it seems important, Chloe. But I think that the nervous gentleman downstairs currently occupied with making your excuses to the newly-arrived Sullivan clan probably wouldn't be as understanding as I am."

"Serves him right for leaving me with all his family last night. I've seen some pretty scary things in my time, Lex, but my future in-laws are something else. Gray's Aunt Davis - and really," she paused, looking up from her work, "what kind of a name is Davis for a sixty year-old-woman? - anyway, she was so horrified when she heard that I wouldn't be wearing white that she nearly had an embolism right there on the carpet... Lex?"

Chloe was snapped out of her rant by the realization that her audience was no longer as attentive as she would normally demand. She looked up to find Lex wearing an expression of bemusement.

"It's nothing. I suppose I'm just finding it a little hard to believe that I'm here, acting as diplomat at Chloe Sullivan's winter wedding."

Chloe rose from her computer and went to the bar. Pulling out the scotch, she poured two glasses and crossed the room to give one to Lex.

"Well, it's your own fault for refusing to go official and be my bridesmaid."

She caught the edge of his smirk, knowing after two years of close if unorthodox friendship exactly where to look for it, and sat down at his side. She decided to risk the unspoken mush embargo and tell him something about how much he had come to mean to her. Lowering herself down beside him on the couch, she crossed her legs and sipped the whiskey before speaking.

"It does feel strange, sometimes, I know. And this wedding - it's not going to be a cakewalk. My family has nothing in common with Gray's - to say the least - and the sheer size of this day is beginning to become completely and utterly terrifying." She sighed, moved closer to him, and continued. "Lex - I have a lot of people I depend on, and a group of people who care a great deal about me have worked very hard to make this weekend work. But I can't think of anyone who makes me feel quite as confident as you that I'll actually survive this whole charade."

Another smile from Lex, carefully softer round the edges - her mission accomplished - and then amusement disguised as admonishment, their primary method of communication. "Chloe, you have to stop calling it a charade. Aunt Davis would never approve."

Exasperated sigh. "Aunt Davis can shove her hairy chin where - "

"Chloe? Oh, there you are. You ready to come for the final fittings?"

"Lana, hey! Yeah, I'll be right there. Did you happen to see Gray on your way up here?"

Lana's face broke into a mischievous grin, her nose crinkling and her eyes lighting up. "He seemed to be a little preoccupied, Chlo. Your cousin Kerry has definitely taken a shine to him."

Chloe groaned. "Oh God. He's going to kill me dead." She drained the last of the scotch, then rose off the couch and turned to Lex, who was watching her with badly disguised glee. "You can lose the smug look, Luthor. You're due down there at birdsong tomorrow morning for diplomatic duties in the main hall."

Closing the door on his horror-struck face, Chloe giggled as she moved towards the elevator with Lana, planning all the way.

"Okay. So what now? Oh yeah. Dresses. We sweep down to fitting room after swinging by lobby to rescue future husband from claw-fingered cousin before dashing back up to catch deadline. Good. I have a plan."

Lana laughed and ducked to avoid the oversize hand movements Chloe always used to illustrate her speech. "Enough with the sweeping and swinging! You nearly took my eye out!"

"Sorry," smiled Chloe, ruefully. "I guess there's a small possibility that I'm a little more wound up about this whole thing than I thought I would be."

"Chloe, of course you're excited! You're getting married! It's only normal."

Chloe tried to suppress a smile, but gave up the fight as it burst out brightly. "I KNOW! Oh, wow, I never thought I'd be like this. It's not like how I feel about Gray is new, I mean, we've been engaged for a year, and I'm not like you, I never really planned on getting married at all, didn't see the point. Now that it's here, though..." She took in a deep breath, stretching her arms out to the side and beaming at the elevator ceiling, "I'm so happy!"

Lana laughed and squeezed an arm around her friend. "Me too, Chlo. I'm so glad this all happened for you."

Chloe turned and pulled her close, wanting to share the joy she couldn't stop feeling. "Thanks, Lana."

They hugged, ignoring the opening doors.

"Woohoo! Now that is a welcome any weary traveler would be happy to receive!"

Chloe pulled back and stared into the lobby.

"Pete!"

She was out of one embrace and into another before anyone had time to blink. "Pete! Still the pervert I've always known and loved." She smiled up into his face - he had gotten a little bit taller, after all - and hugged him again. "You look well."

"You too, Chloe. Congratulations, my friend. It's really great to see you so happy."

He looked good. A beautifully cut suit hung well on him, evidence that he flew straight in from work in Edge City, but it was the new aura of strength and stability flowing easily around him that made her old friend seem so newly impressive.

"Hey, Lana."

Chloe stepped back so Lana could get closer and then watched, bewildered, as Lana Lang, effortless social chameleon, blushed and stumbled awkwardly into a tentative hug with an equally goggle-eyed Pete. They pulled back staring, standing dumbstruck until Chloe took pity on them, rolled her eyes, and grinned.

"So, the Smallville gang back together again, huh? Well - most of it."

Pete broke off his gaze to look at Chloe with strange trepidation. "Actually, Chlo, I wouldn't be surprised if it's all of it, soon enough. I ran into Clark back in Met. He said he got your invitation."

Chloe blinked. "You saw Clark?"

"Actually..." Chloe turned to look at Lana. "He's here. I saw him arrive about ten minutes ago."

She felt her eyes getting steadily wider. "Wow. I can't believe it. After all this time. Why would he show up here? He hasn't spoken to any of us in - god, almost two years. Last time I talked to Lois, she told me that he'd taken leave from the Planet and hadn't been seen in months. I just can't believe he's here. Oh, wow, I really need to warn -"

She broke off. Not the right place to talk about this. Turned to Lana instead, curious.

"How'd he look?"

Lana frowned, thoughtful. "He was... he looked..." she paused, unable to find the right word. How had he looked? Strong. Beautiful. Sad. Eventually, she settled for - "Grown."

Chloe nodded, thinking how much had changed since she'd last seen Clark. How much she'd changed. It only stood to reason that he'd be different too. He'd never even met Gray, she realized.

Pete interrupted her thoughts. "You guys want to get a drink? It's been a long week and I definitely need to unwind before the festivities begin."

Chloe shook off her reverie and demurred. "You guys go ahead. The hotel bar is pretty good. I'll talk to you later, Pete. Right now, I have a dress to try on for the fortieth time, and a harassed fiance to console."

They moved off, waving goodbye to her and heading toward the dark space of the bar. She turned around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gray before she had to head to the fitting room, and there he was, the brightest part of her world, arms crossed against his chest and nodding sagely at his ancient, querulous aunt. At his side, cousin Kerry was pouting, showing off her newly enhanced lips to little effect. Chloe laughed quietly. Thanks, Aunt Davis.

She wandered back toward the elevators, reigning in the urge to go over and talk to him, look at him, touch him. Her dress was waiting, and she needed to talk to Lex.

****

Lex slid into the lift and pressed the button for the lobby. Releasing a soft sigh into the cushioned quiet of the elevator, he smiled, thinking of Chloe's permanent state of excitement and the exasperation of her indulgent fiance. Chloe Sullivan the metro beat reporter marrying into the New York elite was providing endless entertainment to the whole city and especial joy to Lex, who got to watch it all from a much better vantage point than the local tabloid pages. His glee, he could admit, was somewhat beneath him, but it was rounded nicely by an altogether more adult feeling of happiness for Chloe herself, who had finally found someone to love her as she deserved. That the man in question turned out to be Grayson Pierce of the New York Pierces, little brother to the city's Mayor and one of the most eligible bachelors in the country - once even beating Lex in the polls - just added to the overall amusement value.

A discreet beep from his organizer reminded him of a meeting he had planned at the office later, and as he slipped the slim gadget back in his pocket he thought about what Chloe had said to him in the penthouse. He'd never told her how much she had come to mean to him, though he believed that she knew of her importance in his life. The truth was, he thought, leaning back against the elevator wall, that his friendship with Chloe had brought him peace.

Or perhaps - perhaps it was more that over the years as chaos had finally, blessedly receded, as his father faded and everything about Smallville had become hazy with distance, as he finally realized that the only trust he should crave was his own, Chloe and her easy, fond friendship had become symbolic of a new kind of life, of a newly possible peace. It was a good life; still challenging, still rife with struggle and frustration and conflict, but at its center was a new kind of calm. That he could have a friend like Chloe, could maintain a close friendship respectful of boundaries and differences and untrammeled by sturm und drang of any variety, was proof to him in a very fundamental way of how much he had changed, how hard he had fought to find solid ground in his hitherto volatile life. He was proud of himself, and rather than chastise himself for it or worry that it represented a vulnerability he could still ill afford, he came slowly to accept it, and believe in it.

The door slid open onto the orderly chaos of the lobby and Lex stepped out of the elevator. Across the open plan room, Grayson Pierce was showing the strength of ten men in dealing with an aged Pierce matriarch and a pushy Sullivan vamp at the same time, while still managing to look both dutiful and aloof. Lex had to bow to a master. He hadn't needed to research Gray on Chloe's behalf when the two had become involved, as he had always moved in the same social circles as the Pierce family and had known them a little already. It had still been a surprise, and indeed a pleasure, to watch the cool but charming dignity of Grayson Pierce's social persona melt to under Chloe's irresistible sun in the months they'd been together, and Lex, though not usually a betting man, would be happy to wager one of his fortunes on the success of their union.

He congratulated himself on making it unnoticed across the room and moved through the outer doors to wait for his limo. It was blisteringly cold outside, and Lex stared up at the already darkening sky, thinking simultaneously about Grayson Pierce's strange old aunt, the likelihood of snow, and how much leeway, if any, to give Jeff Patterson at the E-tron meeting later that day. Pulling his coat closed, he cast his gaze around him, looking for Martin with the limo.

Then everything started to slow.

Tiny goosebumps ran up his arms and the back of his neck as a figure in the corner of his vision drew his gaze, almost against his will. Turning his head took an age. He already knew what he'd see when he looked over.

Clark.

In a blink, time seemed to snap back to full speed, and thoughts like fists pounded through Lex's mind.

Why was he here? Why now of all times to reemerge? What about the Arctic? The Daily Planet? The rest of the planet? When did he grow up? Why didn't I see it - I should have seen it, should have seen him becoming so beautiful. New thoughts, more impulses rushed through him, conflicting needs of flight and fear and curiosity and an attraction so strong it was more like a force of nature than an emotion.

Lex stood, paralyzed by a desire to get closer - get closer - get inside - that was swiftly destroying two years of careful self-determination. When the car pulled up, he went to meet it, strong enough to run, but not strong enough to leave without looking back.

He stood in the open door of the sleek black car and stared back at an oblivious stargazing Clark Kent on the far side of the entranceway. Folding himself inside the limo, Lex couldn't bring himself to look away. Clark was standing very still and very alone, his long dark coat buttoned against a cold he wouldn't feel while the streetlights of New York started to come to life around him. Each different light source cast a separate kind of glow on his skin, and his cheeks were pink and looked warm.

Slow, fateful snow began to fall from the sky as the car pulled away, and Lex, like a dazed boy on a riverbank, turned in his seat to watch the first flakes settle in Clark's soft dark hair.

*******

The edges of his mind were cold, rusted, metallic. Every fresh thought bounced, clanging and singing against the sides like the rebound of a glottal tine. City noises reverberated in his skull, a fog of sound surrounding his head like a heavy and impenetrable helmet.

Back two months, and he still felt bruised, swollen. Normal life was like cotton wool between his teeth, and newly public duties, flying open and primary colored against city skies, seemed his only respite from the weight of his new reality. It was only when he wore the suit that he forgot how much he didn't want to, and only when he took it off that all his fears returned.

Clark breathed in deeply, taking in the smells of car exhausts from the street, recycled hotel air emanating from the lobby behind him, the first flurries of snow floating downwards... and a touch of something familiar... He opened his eyes and looked around at the people flowing in and out of the hotel, but saw nothing that fit the scent. He watched one dark-windowed limo move off and another pull up, spilling five corgis and an elderly woman from its interior. The smell dissipated, overwhelmed by a cheerful waft of excited doggy smells and a wave of old-lady perfume.

Clark smiled a little and looked down at his bags, trying to gather the courage to pick them up and go inside. He wasn't cold, but he was pretty sure he'd been standing on the hotel steps for at least half an hour now and the concierge kept throwing him worried glances. He was very aware that the moment he stepped through the doors, he'd be likely to run into any number of people he knew, or had once known. And it was going to be hard, really hard, not to smile a lying smile and run away behind his skin. But this was his one best chance, his only chance, maybe, to remake the bonds he'd spent the last five years trashing. He needed to do this more than anything.

He bent and picked up his bags, wondering how Chloe would react if she knew how far he'd really come to be here today. He'd spent months at the fortress, Jor-El a drone and a scream and a whisper in his ear at every moment, while he bullied the computer into teaching him as much about Earth as it did about Krypton, resisting a tide of demands and coaxes telling him of his overlord destiny, and always, always trying to find a way to take what he needed and flee while frozen in fear at what he might unleash when he ran. He hadn't known that his greatest battle would be fought in a place designed to cherish him, but it was a fight he'd been losing, drawing ever closer to the temptation to end it all quickly, when the strange, jolting news had come through. Chloe Sullivan was getting married.

He'd been recovering from an ambush loosely disguised as a training exercise, a simulation in which the only solution lay in allowing five people to die in order to save eight more, when he came across the announcement while reviewing the day's press from the metal bunk in sickbay. It had been at its worst that night, as he became more and more sure of what he had to do with his life, and more terrified of what he would be tempted or foretold or forced to do instead. The picture of Chloe in the paper, fizzing with energy and smiling at him all the way from Metropolis, looking just like she had her first day of school with her big grin and inquisitive eyes, had reminded him sharply of a part of himself he'd almost completely forgotten. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things - a picture of a smiling girl and an invitation he'd find in his mailbox back in Metropolis, but as the chill of the metal bunk beneath him receded, he'd seen it as the lifeline he'd never thought he'd get thrown. He'd sat up, wincing, but shocked at the powerful feelings of longing that he felt. Painful as it was, he'd had the sense to realize that these emotions were what he'd been missing, what he needed, they were what would help him remember who he was, and help him fight what Jor-El and a destined life of chaos would have him become.

That had been four months ago. He'd then spent another eight weeks struggling in the Arctic, battling through the learning program the computer had designed while a new resolve burned in his ridiculously emblazoned breast (he was still getting used to the uniform) and when he knew at last that he was ready, he flew to Metropolis and introduced the world to Superman.

Nothing about it was easy. Superman, he discovered, didn't need friends. Clark Kent suddenly craved them. Superman was the end product of an extremely complex process undergone by Clark Kent; Superman made it all look easy while Clark was the one dashing around behind the scenes pulling at strings and hoping desperately that the whole thing didn't completely fall apart. To do it, Clark knew he'd need help. Oh, not actual help, of course. He wasn't here to throw himself into the arms of his old friends and demand that they become part of his chaotic existence. He didn't plan to tell them a thing, not even Pete. All he wanted, all he needed, all he could afford to need was the grounding effect of actually having people who knew him, even a little, in his life. Just enough to keep him sane. He hoped.

The snow began collecting at his feet, and Clark turned to face the hotel. Unable to help himself, he scanned the lobby through the wall and only when he had assured himself that no familiar faces were in evidence did he finally move to enter. He'd face them. He would. Just not right now.

*****

Two hours later, Pete wandered into the cozy warmth of the private lounge and looked around for a place to fit five people. Spotting a dark corner flanked with soft brown leather chairs and a deep built couch, he moved over and settled himself in the chair facing the door, keeping an eye out for Lana. Pete smiled to himself at the thought, but couldn't help glancing down to check his suit still looked presentable. He'd taken the jacket off during their meal, and now his tie was gone and the top few buttons had been opened. Pete tried not to think about the fact that he was almost positive he'd caught Lana staring at his throat when he unbuttoned, because he needed to concentrate on being charming and nice and the best he could be, rather than the tongue-tied lust-monster he knew still lived under his skin. No cheesy lines, Ross. This is serious. How he knew it was serious after one dinner, he couldn't tell, but this was Lana Lang, and no matter how much she'd changed, grown, become the most amazing woman, he was still pretty sure that he'd have to play this really carefully if he wanted any chance with her at all. And oh, how he wanted -

"Hey. Good seats."

Her. Her smile was still soft and bright, like it always had been, the smile that had entranced everyone from football players to math geeks back in high school, Pete no exception, but he had to say now that the old smile had nothing on this new one. Because the old smile, no matter how sweet, had always been a little distracted, always just a surface shine over an inner confusion. Most people didn't notice - Lana's surface shine was pretty dazzling - but Pete could see it now. This smile had found its focus. This one was for him, and he knew it.

"Take your pick," he said, gesturing expansively. She shot him another one of those smiles and took the seat beside him. Oh yeah.

"I ran into Chloe outside. She'll be in soon, and Lex is on his way back from the office now. She said she'd left a note for Clark in his room, so maybe he'll be down as well."

Pete dragged his thoughts away from the way the firelight was glinting on her hair and decided he had to ask.

"Are you okay with all that? Seeing Clark again?"

She didn't have to think about her answer. "Oh yeah, it's all fine, Pete. I haven't seen Clark in a couple of years, same as Chloe, but I'm not mad at him or anything. I missed him, I guess, and it was a bit of a shock seeing him this morning. Don't laugh, but I didn't really have the nerve to go up and say hello." She leaned in close when she spoke, and Pete didn't feel like laughing at all. "He looked sad, Pete. I don't think the last few years have been easy for him. It was never exactly smooth sailing with us, or with anyone and Clark, now I think about it, but I have a feeling that he might need a friend or two now, and if he wants me, I'm there."

She must have seen the expression he wasn't fast enough to hide, because she started, blushed and said, "As a friend. Um. I'll always be there for Clark as a friend. Just a - yes."

This time, Pete didn't bother to hide, and they shared a silly smile.

"What about you, Pete?"

"Me and Clark? Oh we're just good friends too. Couldn't keep the romance going long distance, you know how it is."

She punched him on the shoulder and leaned even closer, giggling. Pete's heart gave two joyous thumps before settling into a slightly faster rhythm. She smelled really good.

"Nah, we haven't seen much of each other either. I used to run into him at law society stuff when he covered them for the Planet, but that was a while ago now. Clark knows I've got his back if he needs me."

Lana looked like she was about to question that, and he didn't really need any investigation into the reality of his weird bond with Clark, so Pete headed her off. "You want something to drink?"

She did, and he headed to the bar, thinking as he crossed the room that it was strange to him to have to actively protect Clark's secret after almost ignoring it for so long. He'd known it would start to happen again, though, known it since that night two months ago when he'd first heard about the flying man who had suddenly arrived to protect the streets of Metropolis. He'd expected to hear from Clark, actually; some warning would have been nice, just a 'Hey Pete, good to see you, oh and by the way, I'm going public on the whole alien thing. Keep it under your hat, yeah?' but nothing had come through so far.

"What can I get you, sir?"

Pete roused himself and ordered, turning his mind from one old friend to another, one he was suddenly hoping would become something much more.

******

"Back to the hotel, Martin."

"No problem, Mr. Luthor."

Lex sat in the back of the car and tried not to be grateful for the evening traffic jamming up the city, slowing everything to a crawl. Then he got annoyed at himself for unconstructive thinking, and frowned through tinted glass at the cars lined alongside.

Chloe wanted him there, and he was going.

He'd simply have to adjust a few paradigms, that's all. He hadn't been prepared, and now he had to think on his feet. Point was, Lex was happy with his life now; things were going pretty well, and he didn't need... whatever the hell that had been at the hotel. Because that was all ancient history. And not the relevant, useful kind, either. What happened earlier was strange, yes, a little unsettling, but nothing that could shake him. He'd been expecting a weekend of odd decrepit relatives, small talk and cake, and none of that had changed. It was simply that there would be one more guest at the party. 'An old friend, as it happens,' he thought, practicing for the inevitable enquiries. 'Just one of Chloe's classmates,' he'd say. Nice guy, maybe a little strange, a bit quiet. Works in Metropolis. Friends with Pete. Sometimes disappears off to the Arctic Circle and flounces around the rest of the planet in shiny red boots and a stolen crest. Has various superpowers, including the art of standing still while snow falls in his hair and on his skin, appearing to be completely oblivious as he overturned the lives of previously contented wedding guests.

Lex sighed and bounced his head off the back of the seat behind him. He needed to get this under control. Clark Kent was just an old friend with whom he'd lost touch over the years, and now they were meeting again at the wedding of a mutual friend. It would be... pleasant, he thought.

As he was rolling his eyes at his own feeble attempts to talk himself calm, he remembered suddenly something Chloe had said the year before about her friendship with Clark. "I just had to let him off the hook, Lex. Because truthfully, I just got tired of asking, and I could see how much it hurt him to keep refusing, just as clearly as I could see that it was never going to change. So I decided. I made up my mind that I would always be there for Clark if he needed me, but I had to stop punishing him for not needing me more."

At the time, it had seemed an eminently sensible idea, and Lex was still a little in awe of Chloe's flexible attitudes and endless capacity for forgiveness, but now it only served to further impress on him how different he and Chloe really were. Because he could never let Clark off the hook. When it came to his relationship with Clark, it seemed that all they'd ever really had were hooks. And he certainly hadn't spend the last five years fighting to exorcise the concept of need from his life entirely just to start pining for something he'd never had and never could have.

"Here we are, Mr. Luthor. St. Regis hotel."

Good. He was ready. "Thanks, Martin. I'll call you tomorrow if I need you."

"Sure thing. Goodnight, Mr. Luthor."

"Goodnight, Martin."

Lex moved carefully up the steps of the hotel, partly mindful of ice and partly beset by an odd superstitious feeling, as if the ghosts of a daydreaming Clark Kent and a heartstruck Lex Luthor were still lingering there on the stoop, an uncomfortable reminder of what he'd so recently been feeling.

Shaking off the shivers he consciously attributed to cold, he pushed through the revolving doors of the hotel and walked into the comfortable warmth of the interior. Striding Lionel-fashion through the lobby to the bar, Lex threw off his worries with his overcoat. Spotting Lana and Pete in the corner, he chose the last free single seat and sat down, inwardly deciding that nothing Clark Kent could do or say would affect the life he had chosen to lead.

*****

Clark was on his feet before his brain could tell him where he was. His heart pounded then eased as he took in the layout of his hotel room and grasped that he'd somehow managed to fall asleep on his still-made bed with his coat still on and his bag squashed uncomfortably beneath him. The doorbell chimed again and he realized what had woken him up. He scanned the door, took a deep breath, and went to open it.

"Clark!"

Chloe smelled just the same, and fit just the same in his arms. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and blinked back sudden strange tears.

"Hey, Chloe. It's good to see you."

Chloe pulled back and looked at him like only Chloe ever had, like she was researching you and wasn't a bit ashamed to show it. He was too tired to try for mild and innocent, so he just stood still and let her look. Then her eyes softened and her smile turned the corner into grin territory.

"You too, Clark. I'm glad you decided to come." She reached a hand up and touched the side of his face with two small fingers, her smile deepening. "You have pillow marks on your cheek."

Clark rubbed at his face and smiled back at her. It felt weird. "I guess I fell asleep. It's been pretty hectic lately."

"Oh? You were covering the Health Summit with Lois, right? At least you didn't get stuck there."

"I got out on an earlier flight. Lois is happy, though. It's not everyday a military coup breaks out while you're interviewing one of the generals."

"Actually, I think that sort of thing happens to Lois on a regular basis. Any other time, I'd be jealous of the scoop, but right now I'm mainly just annoyed that I had to have my cousin Kellie as my second bridesmaid. Well, okay, I'm still a little jealous. Anyway! I've had some torturer woman calling herself a couturier sticking pins in my side for the last hour, and I just mailed off my last piece for the paper until after the honeymoon, so I deserve a reward. You look like you need a drink, yourself. You coming downstairs?"

A drink would be good. "Yeah, sure. I'll just leave my coat."

They walked to the elevator together, Chloe's arm tucked snugly beneath his.

"You won't get to meet Gray tonight, I'm afraid. We decided that we kinda liked the traditional practice of not seeing each other the night before the wedding. He's off with his friends from college tonight, and I'm here with you guys."

Clark pressed the button for the elevator, and then pressed it again to gain himself some time. "Um. About that, Chloe... I'm sorry I haven't been in contact much recently... "

Apologizing to Chloe was a stale ritual, and he felt a sort of sick nostalgia to be doing it again.

"Clark, hey," she said, turning toward him and putting both her hands on his arms, "it's okay. Really. I'm not mad. I missed you, and I'm sorry I haven't seen you more, but there's no need for anyone to apologize. You haven't met my fiancé - but you'll get to know him soon, right? And you'll like him, Clark, he's amazing. Plus hey, if you had a fiancé, I wouldn't know her."

Clark let her comfort him, marveling at this new easygoing version of Chloe and recognizing that maybe he wasn't the only one who had changed.

Then her hand gripped his arm a little tighter. "You don't, do you?!"

"What? No, Chloe, I don't have a fiancée." He didn't have anything close to a fiancée. He's pretty sure his two-week fling with Chloe in senior year was still one of his most long-term relationships ever.

She laughed. "Okay then. Fresh start."

It was so close to being just what he'd come for and nothing that he'd really expected that he found himself suddenly speechless. Chloe, as ever, filled in the gaps.

"So Pete is down in the bar, I think. He's still working in Edge City, doing really well. He's moved into advocacy and his new firm thinks he's almost as great as he does. I think our Pete might fancy a life in politics, you know."

Pete. Closest thing Clark had to a brother, really. It had been almost three years since they'd spent any significant time together, and longer than that since they'd acknowledged the secret they shared. Clark saddened at the thought, then remembered his resolve. He was here to fix things. He moved a little closer to Chloe and tuned back into her speech.

"... and even with all that, she still owns the Talon outright, though she's not so hands-on these days. She can afford not to be, I guess."

Lana. She'd never stopped trying to keep in contact, even with no encouragement from him. Short, breezy emails and Christmas cards kept coming, telling him about her life, her world, so foreign to anything he lived with these days. Suddenly now, he wanted to bring her world close, felt extremely grateful for her undemanding generosity, and wondered how he'd ever believed he could live without it.

"... should be back from the office soon. I don't know what I would have done without him these last few weeks. He's been amazing. He acts like it's no big deal to work out of the New York offices, but I know that he's been covering."

Clark turned, frowning, his heart speeding a little. Who?

"He's even been helping with my family. Lex Luthor shepherding the Sullivan clan at my wedding - did you ever think you'd see the day?!"

The door pinged open and Chloe stepped out, still talking. Clark couldn't move. The doors started to close and he shot out a hand, stopping only at the last millisecond from crushing the steel back against the wall.

"Clark?! Clark, you okay? ...Oh..."

He felt Chloe's hand pulling him out of the elevator and over behind one of the pillars decorating the lobby. She held his hand and seemed to be getting concerned, but Clark didn't have any attention to spare for her right now. Lex.

It's not that he hadn't considered it. Not that he hadn't thought of him, though he realized now that Lex had never featured in his cozy plan to get himself a little human contact, like some cheap salesman hoarding soggy business cards for his collection. It made him see immediately the ridiculousness of that idea, its fallacy. What had he been thinking? That he could stroll around on the edges of Chloe's, Pete's, Lana's lives, taking just what he needed to keep the demons at bay, backing out whenever they actually wanted him to be a friend? It became suddenly very clear how selfish and naive that plan had been, because he knew it wouldn't stand up to five minutes in Lex's company. Oh, he'd been telling himself that he'd go see Lex in Met sometime, carefully not thinking anything about what that might actually entail, but he knew now that he'd probably never have worked up the nerve to do it. Because there were no half measures with him and Lex. Even at his most shuttered, most focused, Clark knew that much. The only kind of relationship he couldn't have with Lex was a tepid one, and that's really all he'd prepared himself for. Clark tried to calm his breathing, blinking back to awareness to find Chloe pulling him gently across the lobby to the bar, talking softly all the way there.

"... and you know it'll be okay, Clark. Just come in and sit down, you look seriously pale. You're probably just overtired."

Stopping just outside the bar, Chloe turned to him. "You okay? Up for this?"

Clark nodded through the haze, knowing he needed to offer some reassurance. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good."

Head still muzzy, Clark took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the bar. He'd just have to figure it out as it happened. He'd come here to initiate contact again, and that was just what he was going to do. He'd do the small talk thing, and then escape to his room for some sleep before heading out to patrol. Okay.

*****

When Clark was pulled into the bar on Chloe's heels, Lex was carefully arranged in a nonchalant pose by the fireplace. While Pete went over and gave the somewhat stiff Clark a hug, Lex sauntered over to the little group crowding around his old friend, and waited patiently for his turn to initiate the polite greeting he'd rehearsed.

Then Pete pulled away, Chloe went to the bar, and Lex was left standing in front of Clark.

Outside in the snow, Clark had looked crisp, sharp, as if edged in crystal. Inside, with the warmth of the fire behind him and the soft shine of candlelight playing through the room, he looked human, vital. He looked all of sixteen. He looked Smallville.

"It's good to see you, Lex."

Clark came closer, stepping into the light, and Lex gritted his teeth against the urge to step back and forward at the same time, because the moment was there, it was there and he had to take it. So he looked up, he looked into Clark's face, and then he blinked, and very carefully did not gasp.

Clark Kent had the eyes of a Methuselah.

He had eyes that looked like they had been used too long. His face had the unlined skin of an innocent, but his eyes looked like they had seen too much, like they'd seen everything twice, like turning away had never been an option.

Eyes that were, right now, focused solely on him, seeing nothing else, and as Lex returned his stare he could see them slowly becoming more exhausted, more filled with despair. It was an urge even more basic than instinct that had him stepping forward to get close, to touch, to reassure. He put a hand on Clark's upper arm and squeezed softly.

"Clark."

He was sure that he'd been planning to say more, but all thoughts were suspended, short-circuited by the change that came over Clark, came over both of them with the simple touch of hand on arm, their first touch in years.

He couldn't let go. His hand squeezed tighter, tight enough to bruise, but Clark never winced, never faltered. Instead his eyes remained fixed on Lex, and Lex watched and wondered as a change came over them, as the profound loneliness he could see within them melted away. In its place Lex saw the dawning of some great resolve, as fierce determination flashed through them and a flush of pink swept into Clark's cheeks. Lex stood in wonderment as Clark's face wavered between Superman's tenacity and a gentle kind of awe he hadn't seen since the first day they'd met.

Lex knew that the same thing was being reflected back from his own face. Here, now, somehow, a decision had just been made. He wouldn't be letting go again.

******

As they all moved to sit down and Chloe took the last single chair with an air of exaggerated casualness, Lana looked at the two men pushed close on the couch, trying not to smile at their obvious confusion. Two of the powerful men she'd ever met, and they were both squirming in their seats like kindergarteners. She took pity on them, and decided that things needed to be loosened up a little before everyone choked on the tension. She got up and hugged a startled Clark, who seemed to have forgotten that there was anyone other than Lex in the room.

"It's so good to see you again, Clark," she smiled, sitting back down beside Pete, who had followed her every move with his warm brown eyes. It was nothing new to have a man's gaze on her, but this one felt different somehow. It was comforting, without judgment. She angled herself closer to him and grinned. "Hey, how long has it actually been since the five of us have hung out together like this?"

Pete snorted. "Quite a while, I'd say."

"Oh! I know!" said Chloe, sitting forward in her seat. "It was that time in Smallville when Karen Thatcher had us all held hostage at the Talon. Do you remember?"

Everybody seemed to be thinking hard. Hostage situations had been pretty frequent affairs back in the good old days.

"I think so, yeah," put in Pete. "You could hardly call it hanging out, though, Chlo. We were tied up and terrified."

"Oh, I don't know," came Lex's voice, where he had obviously torn himself away from Clark's gaze. "In those last few years, I began to look on most meteor freak incidents as opportunities to spend some quality time socializing. At least it got me out of the office."

Lana laughed. "We should really write them all a thank-you note."

"Which one was Karen Thatcher, anyway? Was she the chick who could make rocks form different shapes and attack you?"

"No, Pete, that was Jane Skinner. You remember Karen - she was the one who grew antennae and cut off electrical signals."

"Oh, the redhead."

"Yes!"

Chloe chimed in. "Oh I hated her! She ruined my favorite sweater!"

Lex turned to her in amazement. "After all the times you were assaulted in Smallville, you're most mad about the sweater thing? Still?! Let it go, Chloe."

"It was a great sweater! Her stupid antenna ripped a whole right down the front."

Lana rolled her eyes as they descended into their usual bickering and watched covertly as Clark took in the scene with dazed, astonished eyes. A quiet voice from her left brought her back

"Hey. Good work getting us out of that weird moment with the Clark and Lex thing. I guess some things never change, huh?"

She raised her eyebrow and looked straight into his lovely eyes. "Oh I don't know, Pete. I think plenty of things are very different indeed."

Pete let out a small laugh. "Oh really? Like what, exactly?"

Lana pretended to think about it. "Well. My hair is shorter."

Pete nodded seriously. "I noticed that. In fact, I think I read about it in the Smallville Ledger a few weeks back."

Lana agreed. "Yeah, they cover all the important stuff." She laughed then, and glanced up, a more serious look on her face. "You've changed, Pete. You're all grown up now."

"I suppose I am. I have the suits to prove it. What about you? Are you grown up, Lana?"

Lana was silent for a second, knowing that there was more than teasing going on beneath the surface of their words. He was asking her something important, and she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"Yeah, I think I am, Pete."

That was all. By mutual unspoken decision, they turned the conversation to other things, but Lana knew that something amazing had just been offered, and she was pretty sure she'd just accepted it with a smile.

*****

Over in his corner on the couch, Clark was beginning to drift. He couldn't explain it. He should be in knots. Everything had happened so fast, and nothing had turned out as he expected it would. No one had asked him any of the things he thought they would, none of the things they had every right to ask. There had been no remonstrations, no reproach. Just - friendship, there for the asking. He didn't really know how to handle it. He'd really believed that he'd thought it all out, that he'd imagined every possible, horrible scenario. But nothing here was anything like he'd predicted. He realized now that he'd never actually tried to factor in the changes that might have occurred in the people he'd thought he knew, so sure that he alone had suffered, grown, lived since they'd last been together. Now, in the far corner of the room, Pete Ross and Lana Lang were flirting. There was just no other word for it. And over his head, Chloe and Lex were discussing, in all earnestness, the problem of seating arrangements concerning some guy called Davis, while he just sat and tried to take it all in. He wasn't sure he was succeeding in any real way. Waves of tiredness kept coming over him, and while those were usually easily handled, there was something different this time, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

He squashed down a little in his chair, and froze as he felt his entire right side brush slowly against Lex. Ah - that would be the difference. Clark kept his head down to avoid eye contact he wasn't ready for, and surreptitiously inched a little closer to the source of comfort, his incredulity at his own feelings not enough to stop him wanting more. He wasn't sure what had just happened with Lex, but he knew it had been something big. With a head that refused to analyse anything more, he gave up trying to rationalize things, and stretched his legs out beneath him.

He let the old familiar voices wash over him - they seemed to be discussing Chloe's honeymoon, now - and allowed himself the novel luxury of relaxing for the first time in months.

****

"I'm sorry sir, but the bar is closing for the night."

Lex looked up from the sight of Clark sleeping beside him and nodded to dismiss the bartender. Turning slowly, he moved his shoulder from underneath Clark's heavy head and cupped his cheek to stop his head jolting downwards. Sitting quietly, he held Clark's face in his hand, and could not bring himself to move. This was nothing he could control. Saying goodnight to Chloe sometime earlier, he still hadn't been able to pull himself away from Clark to help her properly. Not that she needed help, really, not as soon as she'd spotted Gray coming through the lobby and decided that tradition be hanged, she wanted her boyfriend and she wanted him now. It was a sentiment Lex could understand completely.

"Lehss?"

"Hey, Clark," he said, helping him upright, feeling awkward and unsure. "You fell asleep."

"Oh. Sorry." Clark remained drowsy eyed, and Lex could see that he wasn't going to get any more alert without some proper rest.

"Come on, Clark. You should get to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow." My god, Lex sounded like his mother. Both their mothers.

"K."

Lex stood up and moved to the door. Halfway across the bar, he realized he was alone and turned back to look. Clark was still on the couch, staring at a spot on the wall, completely glassy-eyed. Lex took a second to steel himself, then walked back and wrapped his arms around Clark, pulling him upright. It wasn't easy. Clark had gotten even bigger, more solidly muscled over the last few years, and it didn't help that every touch of Clark's body against his was a further blow to his suddenly shaky every-man-is-an-island worldview.

Clark slung an arm around his shoulder and it felt like a lion's paw resting across his neck. Lex wrapped an arm around his waist, his palm flat against the soft navy wool of Clark's sweater, and started to head for the elevators.

"What were you thinking coming here, Clark, huh? You probably weren't thinking much at all, I'd imagine. Too much flying and not enough sleeping, at a guess."

Lex knew he was talking to himself. Clark was walking, but he was still fast asleep. Lex maneuvered him into the elevator and propped him against the wall as the car rose through the body of the building.

"You don't think enough, and I think too much. And yet the result is still the same. We both end up slouching exhausted in an elevator on the night before Chloe Sullivan's wedding, I'm still standing way too close to you and I still feel like I'm talking to myself. Of course, in this case, I really am."

It dawned on Lex that he might be getting a little hysterical. The elevator doors opened and he moved in close again to lever Clark through the doors and into the hallway. Feeling the hard ridge of Clark's room key in his pocket, and in no mood to make 'happy to see me' jokes, even to himself, he angled them down the corridor until they came to Clark's door. Lex reached in and took out the key, then opened the door and pushed Clark inside and over toward the bed. He stood Clark in the middle of the room and shook him a little to wake him.

"Clark? We're in your room. You should go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Clark opened sad bleary eyes and nodded. Then he stepped forward and pulled his body tight against Lex's for a hug. Lex stiffened in shock.

"Clark? What - what are you doing? You need to sleep."

Clark snuggled closer and buried his head at the nape of Lex's neck, settling his forehead against his throat and his mouth just resting at Lex's collarbone. Lex closed his eyes against the feeling and tried to speak. A soft whisper was all that emerged.

"Clark. Don't. Clark. You can't do this to me. Come on. Please." He put his hands on Clark's arms once again and rubbed slowly, trying to wake him. Trying not to feel. Anguish and longing ripped through him.

"Oh Clark," he said into Clark's hair, "Why are you here?"

Murmured against his throat, deep with sleep and devastating in simplicity, the answer came. "I need you."

Lex shook, his arms going tight around Clark before he could tell himself otherwise. Of all the things Clark could say to him, this was the one he'd never thought to hear. It changed everything. Desperate needs he'd worked so long to stifle, to deny, to erase, now suddenly being met, reciprocated, fulfilled.

Speaking slowly around the tightness of his throat, Lex spoke aloud his greatest fear and his most fundamental truth. "I need you, too, Clark."

Huge warm arms pulled him closer, and Clark mouthed a soft kiss against the skin of his neck. Lex bowed his head and let himself feel the wonders of having Clark close at last. His scent, his heat, the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Lex savored the entirely new feeling of having just what he needed, and having it resting comfortably, beautifully, in his arms.

"C'mon, Lex."

And in a strange switch, now it was Clark leading them, pulling him over to the bed and down under the comforter, shifting a still stunned and pliant Lex until he was flush against his side, then draping an arm and a leg across his body, and turning his face back in toward Lex's neck.

"'m so tired, Lex. Missed you... thought I was alone."

A sort of shocked stupor fell over Lex and he lay there, wrapped up in Clark, staring at the hotel ceiling and attempting to sort out how one day could have changed his life so thoroughly.

His eyes lowered eventually, and he fell asleep still trying.

*****

Unlike last night, this time his awakening was slow and leisurely - to a point. Then awareness came, an arrow finding its mark, and his eyes shot open in the gloom. The curtains of the room were still drawn, and weak winter sunlight strained to penetrate. Clark pulled himself vertical and didn't bother to search the room for Lex. The other side of the bed had been cold a long time.

Finally awake, his brain refreshed from the first proper sleep he'd had in months, Clark was unable to put off thinking about what had happened any longer. God, what had happened? Even completely clear, his brain still could not get beyond a refrain of Lex, Lex, Lex, Lex.

Lex. He'd dragged Lex up here and slept on him. Even as his heart sped up, he was realizing that he didn't feel to panicked about that. Crazy as it all had been, he couldn't bring himself to regret anything that had happened yesterday.

God, though, he'd been so blind. Blinkered by months and months of isolation in a freezing wasteland with only a computer for companionship, he'd obviously completely lost his mind. He'd come to Chloe Sullivan's wedding thinking of it as some sort of panacea, a quick patch of social interaction to soothe him before his next flight into the darkness. Arriving here yesterday, hoping to dip his toe in humanity, he'd never been more alien.

And then there had been Lex.

Clark shook his head in amazement as he realized that they'd hardly even spoken to each other. Nothing had been said, and yet everything had changed. There was simply no way for him to follow through on the plans he had made, not any more. His grand ideals about a life of solitude and duty, ideals born of terror and confusion and simple rebellion, were all irrelevant to him now. Duty still remained, Superman a necessary part of him he would never let go, but solitude - solitude was simply not going to work.

A sudden worry about what Lex might think of all this assailed him, and he fought it back with determination. If Lex had doubts, Clark would quash them. That was all there was to it.

Riding this wave of resolve, Clark pushed his legs out of bed to go get ready. A cull crinkling noise alerted him to the presence of a note on the pillow beside him. Heart hammering, he pulled it out from beneath the mess of sheets and read:

St. Patrick's Cathedral, Fifth Avenue, 11am. I'll see you there. Lex.

Clark pulled off the duvet and ran for the shower.

*******

Lex stood on the steps in the shadow of the spires at St. Patrick's and watched with a mind unusually calm as Clark said goodbye to the newly married couple. He was shaking Grayson's hand and seemed to be wishing him all good things, but Pierce was for once forgetting the manners he was born with and completely ignoring Clark in favor of staring at his new not-so-blushing bride. Lex watched Clark give up on Gray with a small smile began tugging at his lips, and as Clark turned to give the only slightly more receptive Chloe a goodbye hug, Lex waited quietly and thought about how it felt to have those lips smiling at him again.

Finally, the wedding couple and their entourage moved down to the waiting car, and Lex watched as Clark searched for him amongst the crowd. He knew it wouldn't be long until he was found. The thought pleased him more than he was ready to admit.

"There you are."

Clark came and stood beside him on the steps, and they waited there quietly as the limousine moved off and the rest of the party began to disperse.

When all had become quiet, or as quiet as Fifth Avenue was ever going to get, Clark pulled him back into the alcove created by the immense doorway to the cathedral, and turned him around so that they were facing each other, and standing very close. Lex recognized the tableau Clark had unintentionally created, the two of them standing opposite but joined in the arch of a church door. Clark had been casting him looks of heavy intent all through the ceremony, and Lex struggled not to let the lightness he felt in his heart show on his face. This was not to be missed.

"Lex. You - you have to listen to me, okay? Okay. Um. Good." Clark took his hand, looking as if he doubted he'd get permission if he asked. Lex remained silent, and waited. "Look. I know I've been... god, I'm not sure what I've been. It's been hard, is all. I haven't always done things the right way, and I didn't think I had anyone I could ask, didn't think I ever would. I don't know what I thought I'd find when I came here this weekend, but you - you're here. And now I'm not sure of anything except that I want you to be here all the time. Or, I mean, with me. Where I am." Clark foundered for a moment, then seemed to come to some sort of decision. "I'm not letting you go, Lex."

Slowly, finally, Lex allowed himself to smile. When he did, he couldn't stop it, and it grew and grew until he could feel his cheeks start to complain at the unaccustomed stretch. "Still happiest when giving the orders, I see."

Clark had liked the smile, but was a little thrown by the comment. Lex decided to be magnanimous.

"Me too. It'll probably get us into terrible trouble some day."

He watched comprehension start to dawn in Clark's eyes. "Lex?"

Lex took his other hand and squeezed, then spoke aloud his vow. "I'm not letting you go either, Clark."

Clark let go of his hands and touched the tips of his fingers to Lex’s mouth, staring down at them with sudden hunger. "Lex - I’m glad."

Lex smiled, and then shivered at the feeling created by Clark's fingers stroking his lips. "I think we need to go. I don't think we should be anywhere near a church right now, Clark."

"Uh huh," said Clark, and kissed him.

Around them as they stood oblivious, fresh falling snow mingled with leftover confetti, and New York pigeons fluffed their feathers for warmth.