toomuchplor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toomuchplor) wrote2005-10-26 02:43 pm
toomuchplor) wrote2005-10-26 02:43 pm
Entry tags:
Clexian Mpreg, Part 11
Sorry this took a bit longer than anticipated. I had to wait a while to collect enough poll answers before I could start.
It just happened to be casual Friday at the Planet, which couldn’t have suited Clark better. He pulled on the jeans from the previous night, fastened them with a blue elastic (to better match his blue button-down shirt), and headed off to work. He would have to face Lois and make up some sort of story about his non-existent meeting with the source, and he was drawing a blank on how to proceed. It was hard to concentrate on strategy, the way his mind was darting around, first from his evening with Lex, then to his vague wishes for their future, then to the disconcerting recollection that he was pregnant, and then, ever so briefly, touching on the reality of that fact before veering back into what he was going to tell Lois.
Mom will be excited, he thought, rounding the corner onto 45th, and quickly considered simply saying to Lois that his contact hadn’t shown up.
And later, as he waited for a light to cross 6th avenue: I’ll have to move into a two-bedroom apartment, followed by the vague hope that Lois would still be on a high from the shoe sale.
And, as he stepped into the elevator at the Planet: oh, god, what if it’s a girl? He didn’t know anything about girls, and what little he knew was warped by his long association with Lois.
Lois, who -- *wasn’t* at her desk.
Clark stopped short, staring across the noisy bullpen, and blinked twice. He glanced across at the huge wall clock and confirmed for himself that it was eight o’clock, and then looked back, because not only was Lois not at her desk, her computer was turned off and her coat wasn’t tossed across Clark’s desk as it usually was.
“Hey, CK, are you putting on a little weight?” Jimmy asked, dancing sideways into Clark’s sightline, shuffling papers and grinning. Jimmy’s crush on Clark was the worst-kept secret in the Planet newsroom, but at the moment, Clark couldn’t summon his usual kind-but-distant older brother act.
“Where is she?” Clark asked, grabbing Jimmy’s upper arm. “Did she call in sick?”
“Who?” Jimmy asked, his young features all-too-clearly broadcasting ‘He touched me!’
“Lois!” Clark shouted, frustrated. “It’s eight o’clock, Jimmy, and she’s not at her desk.” He released his hold on Jimmy’s arm and headed for Lois’s desk, Jimmy trailing after him hopefully.
“Maybe she got caught in traffic?” Jimmy suggested, and Clark rolled his eyes.
“Lois doesn’t –” Clark began to mutter, sweeping his hand through the clutter on Lois’s desk, but he stopped as his eye caught the blinking message light on Lois’s phone. “She has a message,” Clark said.
“So?” Jimmy was now perching on the edge of the desk, obviously trying for cuteness with a dimpled grin and a tilted head.
“So,” Clark repeated, exasperated. “So, Lois checks her messages every three minutes. She’s compulsive about it.” He picked up the receiver and dialed her voice mail, pausing for a moment before pressing the month-day code of the date when Lois had met Superman for the first time.
“How do you know her –” Jimmy began to ask, but Clark silenced him with the wave of a hand.
One new message, two thirty-six a.m. last night.
“Kal-El,” said a male voice, “I apologize for not using your own phone line, but I couldn’t risk having anyone else hear this message, and your voice mail is closely monitored. This is Lucas Luthor, and I have a job for you. If you value your partner’s life, you’ll do as I say. I will send directions later today and I expect to see you by my side no later than noon. Not doing so will have – oh, wait, I’ll let Lois speak for herself.”
There was a rustle and a rough indistinguishable order, and then Lois came on the line, sounding utterly terrified under a thin layer of bravery. “Superman, don’t – he won’t hurt me, but he can hurt you, and I’m all he’s g—” But this was interrupted by an abrupt shriek of pain.
Lucas’s voice, when he returned, was far rougher and angrier. “If you think for a second that I will hesitate to go after every single person you love,” he threatened, “let Lois Lane be the first to suffer.”
Clark deleted the message when prompted by the automated system, ignoring Jimmy’s questions. He was used to having Lois’s life hang in the balance, since she seemed to get herself kidnapped with alarming regularity – but this was different, because Lucas knew – he knew everything. Because of Lex.
“He escaped last night,” Lex spoke, and Clark looked up, suddenly aware of the hush that must have descended as Lex entered the Planet’s newsroom. “He killed Mercy on his way out.” Lex looked as tired as Clark felt.
“I have to go,” Clark began, flicking open the top button of his shirt in a gesture that meant nothing to anyone but Lex.
“No,” Lex said, reaching out to touch Clark’s wrist, to stop him. “Clark, you can’t. Not this time.”
Clark shook his head, brushing away Lex’s touch. “I’ve handled worse,” he said, referring obliquely to the kryptonite that Lucas would have waiting.
“But it’s not just you anymore,” Lex said, and this was every argument that had never ended back when they were breaking up, Lex telling Clark that Clark had to put *them* first, ahead of scared helpless people, ahead of injured children and frightened women – except –
Except this time, ‘not just you’ didn’t mean Clark and Lex. It meant –
Clark swallowed. “Is it dangerous?”
“It could be, we don’t know,” Lex replied. “But I can’t let you go and find out firsthand.”
There was a certain tone of voice that Lex used when he was very earnest, when what he was saying was underpinned by the deepest emotion, and Clark finally understood. Lex wanted this child. Lex would overcome anything – his own pride, Clark’s stubbornness, the laws of nature and of God, if he had to – to protect this precious thing that he wanted above everything else in the world. What had Lex said? You’re starving my only shot at having an heir.
The meteor shower, of course. Lex hadn’t thought he could be a father, perhaps truly couldn’t be, except in the case of a strange alien-shaped miracle.
Lex didn’t want Clark. He wanted what Clark represented.
Clark bowed his head for a moment, struggling to accept the grief of the realization.
When he looked up, he knew exactly what he was going to say to Lex.
***
[Poll #598907]
ETA: Poll closed! Thanks!
It just happened to be casual Friday at the Planet, which couldn’t have suited Clark better. He pulled on the jeans from the previous night, fastened them with a blue elastic (to better match his blue button-down shirt), and headed off to work. He would have to face Lois and make up some sort of story about his non-existent meeting with the source, and he was drawing a blank on how to proceed. It was hard to concentrate on strategy, the way his mind was darting around, first from his evening with Lex, then to his vague wishes for their future, then to the disconcerting recollection that he was pregnant, and then, ever so briefly, touching on the reality of that fact before veering back into what he was going to tell Lois.
Mom will be excited, he thought, rounding the corner onto 45th, and quickly considered simply saying to Lois that his contact hadn’t shown up.
And later, as he waited for a light to cross 6th avenue: I’ll have to move into a two-bedroom apartment, followed by the vague hope that Lois would still be on a high from the shoe sale.
And, as he stepped into the elevator at the Planet: oh, god, what if it’s a girl? He didn’t know anything about girls, and what little he knew was warped by his long association with Lois.
Lois, who -- *wasn’t* at her desk.
Clark stopped short, staring across the noisy bullpen, and blinked twice. He glanced across at the huge wall clock and confirmed for himself that it was eight o’clock, and then looked back, because not only was Lois not at her desk, her computer was turned off and her coat wasn’t tossed across Clark’s desk as it usually was.
“Hey, CK, are you putting on a little weight?” Jimmy asked, dancing sideways into Clark’s sightline, shuffling papers and grinning. Jimmy’s crush on Clark was the worst-kept secret in the Planet newsroom, but at the moment, Clark couldn’t summon his usual kind-but-distant older brother act.
“Where is she?” Clark asked, grabbing Jimmy’s upper arm. “Did she call in sick?”
“Who?” Jimmy asked, his young features all-too-clearly broadcasting ‘He touched me!’
“Lois!” Clark shouted, frustrated. “It’s eight o’clock, Jimmy, and she’s not at her desk.” He released his hold on Jimmy’s arm and headed for Lois’s desk, Jimmy trailing after him hopefully.
“Maybe she got caught in traffic?” Jimmy suggested, and Clark rolled his eyes.
“Lois doesn’t –” Clark began to mutter, sweeping his hand through the clutter on Lois’s desk, but he stopped as his eye caught the blinking message light on Lois’s phone. “She has a message,” Clark said.
“So?” Jimmy was now perching on the edge of the desk, obviously trying for cuteness with a dimpled grin and a tilted head.
“So,” Clark repeated, exasperated. “So, Lois checks her messages every three minutes. She’s compulsive about it.” He picked up the receiver and dialed her voice mail, pausing for a moment before pressing the month-day code of the date when Lois had met Superman for the first time.
“How do you know her –” Jimmy began to ask, but Clark silenced him with the wave of a hand.
One new message, two thirty-six a.m. last night.
“Kal-El,” said a male voice, “I apologize for not using your own phone line, but I couldn’t risk having anyone else hear this message, and your voice mail is closely monitored. This is Lucas Luthor, and I have a job for you. If you value your partner’s life, you’ll do as I say. I will send directions later today and I expect to see you by my side no later than noon. Not doing so will have – oh, wait, I’ll let Lois speak for herself.”
There was a rustle and a rough indistinguishable order, and then Lois came on the line, sounding utterly terrified under a thin layer of bravery. “Superman, don’t – he won’t hurt me, but he can hurt you, and I’m all he’s g—” But this was interrupted by an abrupt shriek of pain.
Lucas’s voice, when he returned, was far rougher and angrier. “If you think for a second that I will hesitate to go after every single person you love,” he threatened, “let Lois Lane be the first to suffer.”
Clark deleted the message when prompted by the automated system, ignoring Jimmy’s questions. He was used to having Lois’s life hang in the balance, since she seemed to get herself kidnapped with alarming regularity – but this was different, because Lucas knew – he knew everything. Because of Lex.
“He escaped last night,” Lex spoke, and Clark looked up, suddenly aware of the hush that must have descended as Lex entered the Planet’s newsroom. “He killed Mercy on his way out.” Lex looked as tired as Clark felt.
“I have to go,” Clark began, flicking open the top button of his shirt in a gesture that meant nothing to anyone but Lex.
“No,” Lex said, reaching out to touch Clark’s wrist, to stop him. “Clark, you can’t. Not this time.”
Clark shook his head, brushing away Lex’s touch. “I’ve handled worse,” he said, referring obliquely to the kryptonite that Lucas would have waiting.
“But it’s not just you anymore,” Lex said, and this was every argument that had never ended back when they were breaking up, Lex telling Clark that Clark had to put *them* first, ahead of scared helpless people, ahead of injured children and frightened women – except –
Except this time, ‘not just you’ didn’t mean Clark and Lex. It meant –
Clark swallowed. “Is it dangerous?”
“It could be, we don’t know,” Lex replied. “But I can’t let you go and find out firsthand.”
There was a certain tone of voice that Lex used when he was very earnest, when what he was saying was underpinned by the deepest emotion, and Clark finally understood. Lex wanted this child. Lex would overcome anything – his own pride, Clark’s stubbornness, the laws of nature and of God, if he had to – to protect this precious thing that he wanted above everything else in the world. What had Lex said? You’re starving my only shot at having an heir.
The meteor shower, of course. Lex hadn’t thought he could be a father, perhaps truly couldn’t be, except in the case of a strange alien-shaped miracle.
Lex didn’t want Clark. He wanted what Clark represented.
Clark bowed his head for a moment, struggling to accept the grief of the realization.
When he looked up, he knew exactly what he was going to say to Lex.
***
[Poll #598907]
ETA: Poll closed! Thanks!