Title: CREAMY CENTER (Nourishment 2.15)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Angst, vignette, Helen POV
Spoilers: Post-ep for "Visitor"
Rating: PG-13 for suggestions of sexual behavior
Pairing: Clark/Lex established relationship; Lex/Helen
Summary: Rooms aren't the only things that hold secrets

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Smallville is the property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: The rest of "The Nourishment Series" can be found elsewhere on this archive - Enjoy!

DEDICATION: For Tiff, several boys, and a cat.

COPYRIGHT: (C) July 1, 2003, Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, jfc@freeshell.org

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.

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Lex wants something.

What else could he need? He's certainly got enough money. He should have everything his little heart could desire.

But I saw his face down in that... room of his.

Okay, I forced him to show it to me, in the interests of honest disclosure. I can't imagine now what I had been expecting to see in there.

But: a museum of computers? A wrecked car? They're artifacts of something, but I have no idea what.

Mysterious relics, all watched over by a big photograph of Clark Kent. I'm sure he is the focal point of it all, but I'm missing what that means--what he has to do with it... I think. Lex said himself that he found the Kents fascinating, but it's obvious that he means just Clark.

I knew they were friends. He's warned me that Clark takes up a certain amount of his time. Do I dare ask him just how close they really are, or do I want to know?

On more than one occasion, I've woken up early and rolled over against Lex, not quite by accident, and seen his eyes open sleepily, then change as soon as he'd focused on me, like I wasn't who he was expecting to find there. The expression would dissipate after half of a second, when he'd smile and respond to me, but I always wondered: who did he think I was going to be?

The face he shows the world is professional, brilliant, and perfect. What's inside, though, remains as much a mystery as some of his artifacts. He isn't the most forthcoming man. He often says things that don't seem to have any basis within. Just what else is he hiding from me?

At my insistence, though, he opened the door and showed me his most private place. Perhaps this wasn't the wisest move, on either of our parts, but he ultimately looked so delighted to show me his collection that I figured I'd better humor him. I just smiled and made it look like a little voice in my head wasn't telling me to run miles and miles away and never look back.

What does he do in that creepy room, anyway? If I ever felt brave enough to go down there again, I'd be tempted to look at that huge picture of the boy more closely. What's on its surface? Sweaty fingerprints? Lip prints? Semen stains?

I know what I want from my relationship with Lex: companionship, respect, security, a serious intellectual give-and-take, physical affection. Should I expect anything more, or is that part of him devoted in another direction? Does his shiny, perfect surface hide a heart that is soft and messy--something that will contaminate everything in range if it breaks apart?

Lex seems to need something from me, though. Is it approval that he never gets from his father, or attention that he misses from his mother? Or is it something else? What does he see when he looks at me? A lover? A spouse who won't ask any questions? A resource?

Lex Luthor, who has so much, wants something more. It might be the Kent boy, or it might be answers about him that I'm not willing to share. However, it hurts just a little to say that whatever he wants, it isn't me.

THE END