Swap Meat ... Again!
Title: Swap Meat ... Again!
Author: Phoenixnz
Fandom: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: supernatural, established relationship, crossover
Characters: Clark, Lex, Sam, Dean, Bobby, Isabelle
Rating: PG13
Written for the Clexmas challenge
Summary: Isabelle casts a spell on the boys, which could 'spell' disaster for their relationship. Or not. There's magic, there's a ghost, there's snark, there's humour, Clark and Lex together and mystery all mixed together in one big crossover soup.
a/n: I wasn't totally happy with this as I started off trying to make it a crack fic, in a way, but it wanted to go in a different direction. Don't you hate it when fics develop minds of their own? I think it meets some of the criteria for the challenge. Well, there is Clex, it is Hallowe'en and there's a ghost. Does that count?
Isabelle was pouting. And it pissed her off. No, she decided. Lana was the one who was pouting. That stupid, weak ... who didn’t have the sense to take what she wanted. She could have had two men panting after her but she had held back like the good little virgin she was.
She had been surveying the ruins of the party Brianna and Madeline had dragged her to. This was not good, she thought. Clark had seemed to be having a good time. Of course, he’d been under the spell they’d used to liven up an otherwise dull party. But then he’d taken off. So she'd followed him. To, of all places, Lex Luthor’s.
How could Lana have missed this, Isabelle thought, spying on the two men in the bed. It was pretty clear what had happened. Clark had come straight to the mansion after the party had broken up, released Alexander from the spell and the two men were now ... Ugh, she said to herself. Okay, it was kind of hot, but really, why would Clark Kent have chosen someone like Lex when he had Lana?
Isabelle wanted revenge. The question was, what could she do? She considered her options, then a spell formed in her mind. Uttering the words aloud, Isabelle watched as a ribbon of purple swirled around the men, who had both fallen asleep. And it seemed as if their essences, their souls, were suddenly ripped from their bodies. As she watched, something else seemed to settle around them. She blinked, then shrugged. That hadn’t gone exactly as she’d hoped. Well, whatever it was, it would have to do. And at least it would make sure those two stayed out of her way until she got what she was resurrected for.
***
The first rays of morning sun drifted in through a gap in the drapes, seeking out the form in the bed. Make that two forms, buried beneath the rich mahogany-coloured velvet cover.
Dean Winchester slowly opened his eyes, wondering why the bedcovers felt so heavy. He tried to roll over onto his side, but the weight on top of him was too heavy. He lifted his hand to push the weight away and realised it was a body. A naked body. Eyes widening, Dean sat up suddenly, hitting his head on the hunk of con ... other body.
“Dude! What the fuck?”
“Dean, what the hell?” a voice thick with sleep murmured.
“Sam?”
He stared at the other form. That wasn’t Sam. It was a guy with dark curly hair and green eyes. As tall as Sam, but certainly more well-built.
The other man’s eyes widened and he gave a scream as he stared at Dean, then scrambled away from him, falling to the floor with a crash, dragging the cover with him.
“Dude, cover it up,” Dean said, averting his eyes.
The other man stared up at him, then down at his naked body.
“Huh? Oh shit!” He looked up again. “What about you? You’re ...”
Oh shit! Dean thought, grabbing a pillow to cover his own groin.
“What the fuck is going on here?” both voices chorused at the same time.
***
Clark awoke wondering why the pillow under him smelled a little musty. They certainly didn’t smell like home. Or Lex’s for that matter. He wrinkled his nose, rolling over, realising as he did so that he was on the edge of the bed. He fell with a crash.
“Ow!” he said. That really had hurt.
“Clark?”
Clark frowned. That hadn’t sounded like Lex’s voice. And he was so sure he’d been with Lex when he’d fallen asleep. Something wasn’t right here.
Rubbing his ass as he slowly got to his feet, Clark looked around him. This was definitely not the mansion, he decided, as his gaze took in the dirty walls, the ugly patterned carpet and the twin bed on the other side of him. And in that bed was a guy who could have been Jason Teague’s twin. Except his hair was darker.
“Jason?”
“What?” The Jason doppelganger stared up at him. “Clark, you doofus, quit fooling, you ... hey, wait a second. Who the hell are you?”
Clark blinked, then looked around, seeing a mirror on the door. He went over, tripping over the bedclothes as he did, then gazed in the mirror. The man staring back at him was a complete stranger.
“Uh, what’s going on here?” he asked.
“Don’t you know?” the other man asked.
“Well, duh, if I knew then I wouldn’t ask!”
The other man got up, joining him at the mirror to look at his own reflection.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he said. He touched the brown hair on his head. “I have hair?”
“Lex?” The other man turned and looked at him.
“Clark?”
“Um, I think we’re in trouble.”
Lex rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock!”
***
Sam looked at his brother. Well, he thought it was his brother. Only Dean could look at him with that totally pissed expression. Even if he was in another man’s body. Sam looked him over. The body he was in wasn’t that bad looking, he supposed. Bald, though. Why someone would choose to shave their head was beyond him. Sam turned and looked for his clothes. Well, the clothes that obviously belonged to the guy’s body he was in. He wasn’t sure what he looked like yet, since he’d yet to find a mirror. The bedroom they were in was huge. Bigger even than the motel room they’d been in.
Sam found a pair of jeans on the floor and some blue boxer shorts. Well, that was a start, he thought, scrambling into the clothes.
He heard Dean getting up and he turned his back so Dean wouldn’t be embarrassed. There was the sound of a door opening.
“Good morning, sir, would you and your ... uh ... guest ... care for some breakfast?”
Sam looked around and stared at the man in the suit. Dean was also staring with that deer in the headlights look.
“Uh, breakfast,” Dean said. “Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna, um, find some clothes and I’ll be right, um, there.”
The man stared back at him with a polite frown. At least, it looked like a polite frown from Sam’s angle. It was possible the man was thinking that Dean was seriously nuts.
Dean closed the door and began muttering.
“Yeah, clothes. That’s if I can find any.”
Sam blinked, wondering why his vision was going all wonky all of a sudden. It was like looking at an x-ray.
“Whoa!”
“What?” Dean asked.
“I can see right through you,” he breathed.
“What?”
“Dude, it’s like, I can see your bones and everything.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? Hello? Dean, we hunt demons for a living!”
“Well, that’s different,” Dean snorted.
Sam ignored him and looked around, realising he could also see through the walls. And, ahh, yes, what appeared to be a walk-in closet. He shook his head to clear it and strode over to the door he’d seen, opening it.
“Clothes,” he said.
Dean wrinkled his nose at him, then walked over to the closet, still holding the pillow over his groin, and began rummaging through the clothes.
“Whoa! Jesus! This guy must be loaded!” He came out, holding what appeared to be a very expensive silk shirt. Not that Sam would really know one silk shirt from another.
***
Clark looked around the room, searching through the clothing piled on the floor. He grimaced as he picked up a box with some slices of cold pizza still left inside.
“Ugh! These guys are slobs,” he complained.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Lex replied, gingerly picking up a pair of black boxers and throwing them aside, then grabbed a pair of jeans, digging in the back pocket for a wallet. “All right, let’s see what we have,” he said. “There’s a driver’s licence here for a Dean Winchester.”
Clark nodded. He’d picked up a similar pair of jeans and found another wallet.
“This one says Sam Winchester. So guess that means they’re related.”
“We’re related,” Lex sighed. “Brothers, probably.”
“Unless they’re married,” Clark smirked. “Which works out perfectly for me.”
Lex snorted in derision. “Is sex all you think about?”
“Can I help it if my boyfriend is sex on legs?” he returned. “And by the way, not that I’m knocking the old Lex, the new version of you is kinda hot.”
“Yeah, the new Clark isn’t so bad either,” Lex answered with a grin.
Clark took that as a hint and caught his boyfriend, pulling him into his arms for a kiss. He had to admit, kissing the new version was different. This Lex didn’t have that adorable scar on his upper lip. But it was still nice. More than nice.
He let his hand drift to the curve of Lex’s ass as he pulled his boyfriend closer. Lex opened his mouth under Clark’s, thrusting his tongue forward with a little groan.
“What in the name of ... What’s going on here?”
They broke apart, staring in confusion at the wizened older man who had seemed to come out of nowhere. Clark blinked as the older man stepped in between them.
“Have you eejits been cursed or something?”
“What?”
“Excuse me?” Lex asked. “Who are you? And where did you come from?”
“You got amnesia boy?” the man asked.
Lex cocked an eyebrow at him. “Boy?”
“What do you mean, cursed?” Clark asked.
“You’re brothers, eejits. Brothers don’t ...” The man shielded his eyes and shuddered.
Clark frowned at the older man. His visage slipped a little, almost like a television that had lost its reception for a second. He reached out a hand to touch the older man, only to find his hand went right through them. Clark jumped back in shock.
“Uh, I just put my hand right through you,” he said.
Now that he thought about it, the temperature had dropped in the room as well. Not that he’d noticed it before, having been preoccupied with kissing his boyfriend and all.
“Well, of course, you eejit. I’m a ghost!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lex snapped. “Ghosts don’t exist!”
The other man looked at him. “Are you out of your cotton-pickin’ skull, Dean?”
This was just getting far too weird, Clark thought.
***
If there was one thing Dean knew, it was that something smelled rotten in Bumfuck, Kansas. He and Sam had gone downstairs and enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast and explored the house. Well, it wasn’t a house, it was a castle. Which would have been perfect for a ghost looking for a place to haunt.
“Bobby would love this,” he had commented to his brother.
Sam had been too busy examining his reflection in the mirror to answer. Dean had grabbed his brother’s arm.
“You can finish admiring yourself later, dude. We got to figure out what the hell’s going on.”
Together they had gone out to explore the town and try to figure out what was what. Dean quickly learned that this Lex Luthor character was not exactly the most popular guy in town, but the guy whose body Sam was in, Clark Kent, was some kind of local hero. Not to mention captain of the football team.
Luthor owned some kind of coffee shop. Sam laughed at the decor.
“Are they kidding?” he asked. “Look at this place.”
This time it was Dean who wasn’t listening. He was staring at the form of a young man heading up the stairs to what he’d learned was an apartment above the coffee shop.
“Whoa!” he said. “Is that a shape-shifter?”
“What?” Sam asked.
“He looks like me. The real me.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the young man.
“Holy ... This place just gets weirder and weirder,” he said.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
They were about to head up the stairs to talk to the young man when they heard some sort of commotion. Sam looked at him. He seemed to be listening to something.
“There’s a girl up there,” he said. “Speaking Latin.”
Dean didn’t want to know how Sam heard that. It was already too weird, even for him. Damn it, they were supposed to be out chasing Dick. And that was not as dirty as it sounded in his head.
Then Sam’s statement finally hit home. Latin. And from the sounds of things all hell had let loose upstairs.
“Witches,” Dean groaned. “Figures.”
Before Dean could stop him, Sam rushed up the stairs. He heard his brother yell, “No!” before there was the smashing of glass and a body fell from the apartment. Sam ran out, catching the young man before he could be killed, looking around at Dean in horror.
Words appeared on the wall in flames which quickly died away to reveal the words The Barn, Midnight.
“Oh this bitch is toast!” Dean murmured.
***
It was a while before they could all begin to get any sense out of each other.
“So you’re a ghost?” Lex asked Bobby Singer.
“And you’re not Dean?”
“No kidding!” Clark murmured.
“Shut up, Clark. The grown-ups are trying to think here,” Lex admonished him.
If Clark had had his powers, Lex would have been toast just from the glare. Bobby raised his hands.
“All right, all right, let’s see if we can figure this out. Where were you when all this started?”
“Well, let’s see, I was in the mansion and Clark came over to spend the night.”
“Uh-huh. You do this often?”
“Clark’s parents are away for the weekend,” Lex told him. Not that it was any of the man’s business what they got up to.
“What about before that?”
Lex thought for a long minute, ignoring the way Clark was fidgeting. Lana had come over early that afternoon to get a bottle of wine and she had been acting rather odd. She had told him it was meant to be for Chloe’s birthday, which happened to fall on Hallowe’en.
“Who’s this Lana?”
“A friend,” Clark said. Lex glared at him. “Well, she is,” Clark said, shrugging.
“I don’t want to hear it, farmboy,” Lex told him.
“Tell me more.”
“Lana spotted this manuscript Clark and I had been studying.”
“Manuscript?”
“Uh, Lex,” Clark began. “Do we really have to tell him?”
“He’s a ghost, Clark. What’s he going to do? Call a reporter and get a front page spread in the Daily Planet?”
“Uh ...” Clark blushed. “Okay, yeah.”
“The manuscript hides a map to what we believe is the key to a repository of knowledge not of this Earth.”
“What in the blue blazes ...”
“Clark’s not from around here,” Lex said, continuing to ignore Clark’s whimpers of discomfort. He’d never been comfortable about others knowing his secret. “But that’s not important. When Lana saw the manuscript she spouted something in Latin then turned on me. Put some kind of spell on me.”
“Yeah, she did that at the barn too,” Clark spoke up. “She said something in Latin and then everything went kind of crazy. By the time I came out of it, it was almost midnight and the party was over. That’s when I went over to Lex’s and he was playing the piano like, like ...”
“A man possessed?” Bobby suggested. “Yeah, what you kids got yourselves is a witch. Does this Lana ... has she ever ...”
Lex shook his head. “Not that I know of. But she came back from a summer in France with a whole shift in attitude. And a tattoo.”
Clark looked at him. “You didn’t tell me that. How come you never told me that?”
“Shush Clark.” He looked back at Bobby. “I was talking to a cosmetic surgeon. Dr Fine. She told me about the tattoo. She said it had been done using a very unusual method.”
Bobby frowned. “Well, I’ve heard of demon possession before, but not by tattoos. I’m guessing this Lana person put a spell on you and you’ve ended up here. Question is, where are Dean and Sam?”
“Is it possible they might have switched places with us?” Clark asked.
Lex looked at his boyfriend. “You know, that’s the first logical thing I’ve heard you say,” he said. “Of course it’s possible.”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, this kid couple years back did a spell so Sam swapped places with him. What I don’t get is, why Dean and Sam?”
“Could they have some kind of connection to Lana?” Lex asked. “I mean, Dean does resemble someone else we know.”
“Who?”
“This guy named Jason Teague,” Clark said. “He was sort of my coach until he got fired.”
Bobby looked thoughtful. “Maybe there’s some kinda family connection. But no, it still doesn’t make much sense. When did you say this happened?”
“Well it was last night,” Lex told him. “Hallowe’en.”
“Geezus, you boys sure as hell got the mother lode, didn’t you? You must have really pissed someone off.”
“Maybe Lana was jealous?” Clark said. “She was kind of flirting with me, before ...”
“Before what?” Lex asked, instantly put out that Lana had been flirting with his boyfriend.
“She, uh, came over because she wanted a lock of hair. She didn’t seem too happy though when she looked at it.”
Bobby frowned. “Hair? Anything else you can remember?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay, you boys hit the books. You’re gonna need to figure out what kind of spell she was using.”
“How is that going to help us get back?” Lex asked.
“You need to know what you’re dealing with,” Bobby told them. “Don’t worry. Me and the boys do this for a living. Uh, did this for a living.”
Clark watched as Lex sat down at the small round table Bobby indicated, opening up a laptop. Then he turned back to the man, er, ghost.
“So, what’s your story?” he asked.
“Whaddya want to know for?”
“Well, you said you ‘did this for a living’.”
“Did! Past tense, Clark.”
“I know that, Lex. I can see the man’s dead, thank you very much. Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot mister 200 plus IQ. You know I might look big and dumb but I’m just as smart as you.”
“I didn’t mean to imply...” Lex began.
“Well, you did. You always act like you’re the one with the superior intellect, but you know I’m not the big dumb alien you paint me to be.”
“Hey, could you boys take this lovers’ tiff somewhere else and focus on the job?” Bobby said.
Lex sent Clark a pained look. He ignored his boyfriend and turned back to Bobby.
“I meant this whole hunting thing.”
Bobby began to explain that he’d become a hunter when his wife had become possessed by a demon. He’d then met John Winchester, Dean and Sam’s father, who had lost his wife Mary when she had been murdered by a demon. He’d become a surrogate father to the Winchester brothers over the years and had been helping them stop other demons from taking over.
“So what are they chasing now?” Clark asked.
“Ever heard of Leviathans?”
“You mean the sea monsters from the Bible?”
“Yeah. Except these ain’t like any sea monsters you’ve ever seen. These are bad mothers, and I mean bad. Worse than Lucifer, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. Their boss is a guy named Dick.”
“Dick?” Lex piped up. “Really?”
Clark glared at him. “Not funny, Lex.”
“I thought it was,” Lex replied, going back to the laptop.
Clark rolled his eyes. “I still don’t get how we could have time-travelled. I mean, we’re here in, uh, 2012 and Dean and Sam are in 2004.”
“Well, somethin’ must have gone screwy with the spell. That’s the only thing I can come up with. Of course, being Hallowe’en might have had something to do with it. Sometimes these spells need to be very specific.”
“Ya think?” Lex muttered.
***
“Okay, Sammy, what’ve we got here?” Dean said. They’d headed to the Kent farm, after finding out where it was, of course. And hadn’t that been an awkward conversation with one of the waitresses in the coffee shop. Not only that, the girl had been all over Sam, thinking he was Clark.
Sam frowned at the laptop.
“Uh, dunno yet. This laptop’s not exactly high tech.”
“Maybe we should have gone back to the Luthor place,” Dean told him. “I bet Daddy Warbucks has a high tech computer.”
“You read the message.”
“How do you know it was the Kent barn?” Dean said, then rolled his eyes. Dumb question. “Come on, Sammy, you gotta have it worked out by now.”
“I’m working blind here, okay? I mean, this Clark, he ...” Sam stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. “Whoa! This is amazing!”
“What Sam?”
“Well, I didn’t even get it before but this guy can hear things clear across town. And right now I’m hearing that girl, witch, whatever, plotting something tonight.”
“Like what?”
“Not quite sure, but she’s not alone. There are two others with her. Some girl named Madeline and the other one’s Brianna. Brianna doesn’t sound that bright.”
“Yeah, witch skanks never are,” Dean commented but Sam wasn’t listening.
“Isabelle. Okay, okay, let’s see what we can find.”
Dean watched anxiously as his brother began typing on the keyboard, checking a number of sites. He glanced at the watch. It was a curious kind of watch. The face was a Napoleon franc. This guy Luthor must be some kind of eccentric, he thought. Dean shook his head and sighed.
“Come on Sammy, we’ve got about three hours to midnight.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” Sam told him. “I’m working with tech which is about ten years out of date.”
“By which standards? Ours in 2012 or ...”
“Take your pick. Oh, here we go,” he said. “Countess Isabelle Marguerite Theroux, Brianna Withredge and Madeline Hibbins. All three were burned at the stake in early 17th century France.”
***
“Burned at the stake?” This did not sound good, Clark thought.
“Witnesses claimed Isabelle cursed the magistrate before being tied to the stake.” Lex’s eyes widened. “Clark, take a look at this.”
Clark glanced at ghost Bobby, then looked at the drawing Lex showed him. The face of the countess looked eerily familiar.
“Oh my god, that’s ... that’s Lana!” he said.
“Or a very close family resemblance. It could be that Lana is descended from the Theroux family.”
Lex typed in a few more commands on the keyboard and returned to reading.
“Okay, here’s something. Isabelle had a child. A girl. She was taken and raised by the father’s family. Duchess Gertrude.” Lex was frowning. “I know her from somewhere,” he said.
Clark watched over Lex’s shoulder, staring at the pictograph of the duchess. He shrugged.
“Dunno.”
Lex sent him a withering look. “Well, of course you wouldn’t know.”
“Who’s that?” Clark asked, pointing to another picture. It looked like ...
“Jason?” they both asked at the same time.
The image looked exactly like Jason Teague. Clark quickly read the text. The son of the duchess, he was Isabelle’s lover and the father of her daughter.
“History seems to be repeating itself in Lana,” Lex mused. “I wonder if ... Bobby do you know anything about the Winchester genealogy?” There was silence. “Bobby?”
Clark looked up. Bobby was gone.
“Great. Now what?” Clark sighed.
“I’ve no idea. None of this tells me how we’re going to break the spell.”
“We don’t even know what spell she used to get us here,” Clark complained. “This is useless,” he said, beginning to pace the room.
“There must be something we can do.”
“Like what, Lex? What?”
“Clark, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! God only knows what those guys are doing back h ... back in 2004.”
“Probably doing the same thing we’re doing, if what Bobby told us is correct. Trying to find something to break the spell.”
“Unless we could find another witch or something to switch us back,” Clark suggested.
“Far more trouble than it’s worth, Clark. We’re supposed to be hunters. What kind of witches are going to help hunters.”
“Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Lex got up from the table, looking thoughtful.
“We’re in the future, correct?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, there has to be a future you, am I right?”
Damn! Clark thought. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Okay, so ...”
Lex turned back to the computer and ‘googled’ Clark Kent.
“Yeah, here you are. Reporter at the Daily Planet.” Lex frowned, then began to laugh.
“What? What?”
“Superman? Are you kidding me? Nietzsche?”
“What are you talking about?” Clark asked, going to look.
There was an article written by ‘Clark Kent’ on Superman. Lex was still laughing.
“Seriously, Clark, we really need to revise your reading material. Superman,” he chortled. “And I thought I was the one on the ego trip.”
Clark grimaced. Superman. And judging from the image he saw of his future self, the uniform probably made him the butt of a few jokes.
“I hate you,” he growled at Lex.
“Sure, Clark. Whatever you say. Make the call.”
“Why me?”
Lex sent him a ‘well, duh’ look. Sighing, Clark picked up the cellphone and began dialling the number listed for Clark Kent.
“Yeah, um, is this Clark Kent?” he said, feeling weird to be calling himself.
“Yes, who is this?” a voice said. It sounded like his, if a little deeper. Geez, what did he say? Hello, this is Clark Kent speaking. Yeah, first the guy was probably going to think he was completely nuts and second ... “Hello?”
“Um, hi, my name is, uh, Sam Winchester. I need to, um, talk to you.”
“About what?” the voice said cautiously.
Clark looked desperately at Lex, who just waved his hand.
“Uh, well, why don’t we start with the fact that you’re, that you can, uh, leap tall buildings in a single bound and, um, run faster than a speeding train.”
“Who is this?” he repeated.
“Look, just come to the Granville Motel, room twelve and I’ll explain everything. Please hurry. We don’t have much time.”
Clark hung up before ‘Clark’ could reply. This situation was just getting weirder by the minute.
“You boys figured out how to get back yet?”
Startled, Clark whirled.
“Geez, Bobby, don’t do that!”
“Well, I am a ghost,” the man smirked.
If a situation called for heat vision, this was one of them. Pity Clark didn’t have his powers.
His heart practically jumped in his throat when there was a loud banging on the door. Lex went to answer it, opening the door to reveal a tall, well-built man wearing what looked like the Kryptonian equivalent of blue spandex. Clark stared at the man in blue, his gaze travelling down to check out the package underneath the red briefs, or whatever they were, and dude, he thought, you’re checking yourself out.
Clark shook his head, finally paying attention to what was going on. Lex was greeting the man.
“I’m guessing you’re Superman.”
Superman was peering at Lex with interest. “Jason?” he asked, then must have realised his slip.
“No, but perhaps a distant relative,” Lex said. “Why don’t you come on in?”
Superman stood with arms folded, glaring at them, as Lex began to explain.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked. “I have nothing to do with Luthor.”
“Ouch, well that kind of hurt,” Lex said, looking wounded. “You broke up with me?”
Superman frowned. “What? We didn’t ... we weren’t ...” obviously flustered.
“Guess that doesn’t happen to you very often, does it son?”
The blue-clad superhero peered at Bobby. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Clark had already had enough of this.
“Look, it doesn’t matter whether you believe us or not but we need to get back to Smallville 2004 or else we’re probably gonna be stuck like this forever.”
“Not necessarily, Clark,” Lex told him. “I mean, if Clark, uh, future Clark is here, then we must get back somehow.”
“Would someone please ... what do you mean, he’s Clark?”
“I’m you, or you’re me, or ... I don’t know,” Clark said.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Okay, remember when you were six and you first got super speed? You got lost in the woods and Dad spent hours looking for you.”
“Anyone could have told you that story,” the other Clark said.
“Only Mom and Dad know that story,” Clark answered.
“All right, fine, I’ll give you that.”
Lex spoke up. “What was the first thing your dad said to me the day I crashed the Porsche on the bridge? He told me to drive slower, remember?”
Superman/Clark peered at him. “Lex?”
“In the flesh, so to speak.”
“How did this happen?” he asked, clearly believing them now.
“A witch named ... “
“Isabelle,” he groaned. “So you need to break the spell?”
“Only these boys have no idea what kind of spell she used.”
“I’m guessing it’s some kind of transference spell,” he said. “But why transfer into ... who did you say ...”
“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Lex answered. “My guess is both Sam and Dean and Jason Teague are descended from the same bloodline. Duchess Gertrude and Isabelle Theroux.”
“Makes sense. Is there some sort of time limit on this?”
“I’m thinkin’ the boys have until midnight to break the spell. Or else it could be permanent.”
“Well, that’s debatable,” Lex said. “Any ideas?”
“One,” Clark/Superman said. “Wait here. I won’t be long.”
Clark and Lex paced the room, waiting anxiously for the future Clark to return. Clark looked at his lover.
“Lex, what do you think happened between them? Future Clark and future Lex, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” Lex sighed.
“Well, whatever it is, we have to find a way to fix it,” Clark told him.
Lex nodded. “You’re right. And we will. When we get back.” Lex wrapped his arms around his lover. “I promise you, Clark. I always said we’d be the stuff of legends and I meant it. Didn’t I tell you I would walk on hot coals to protect you and your secret?”
Clark smiled. Lex had promised him that and more the day Clark had faced his fears and told the older man everything. Especially how he felt about him. It had been a revelation to learn that Lex felt the same way. And that he’d accepted Clark for who he was.
He knew Bobby was in the room, but he couldn’t help himself. He kissed his lover, unable to wait until they were back in their own bodies.
“Oh for the love of ... stop it,” Bobby moaned. “Do I really have to see this?”
Lex paused long enough to smirk at the ghost of the hunter.
“If things don’t work out, you might just have to get used to it because I, for one, am never giving up my farmboy.”
“It’s a good thing I’m dead then,” Bobby told him. “I’d exorcise myself if I have to watch this.”
Fortunately for Bobby, Superman turned up with a woman in tow.
“Lex, Clark, meet Zatanna Zatara. She’s not a witch, but she’s as good as.”
The brunette smiled at them. “Howdy,” she said.
***
Sam was waiting anxiously for Dean, wondering if he’d managed to locate the girls. He paced the floor of the barn, alert for every sound.
“You’re early,” a voice said and he looked up to see the three witches standing in what he assumed was the loft.
Sam shrugged and smiled. The three girls smirked back at him and Sam braced himself for the onslaught as the trio used magic to throw everything that wasn’t tied down at him. Sam was very glad for the invulnerability of Clark Kent as a huge wagon wheel sent him flying backwards.
“Isabelle!”
Sam frowned. Was that Dean’s voice? He turned and stared as Dean entered the barn. Or at least, it appeared to be Dean in his own body.
Isabelle glared at him. “I thought I got rid of you,” she said.
“Nice try,” ‘Dean’ smirked. “But you should know you can’t get rid of a Luthor that easily.”
“Wait. You’re Lex Luthor?” Sam asked.
“That’s right. I’m guessing you’re Sam.”
“How is this possible?” Isabelle asked. “I ...”
“You’re a witch,” Lex told her. “You should know better than to cast a spell on All Hallows Eve. Clark!”
Sam watched in fascination as someone wearing what could only be described as his own meat suit began chanting something in what could have been Latin, or ... was he chanting backwards?
“Nrub eht koob,” Clark was chanting, glancing at Sam. Isabelle just looked confused, then she began to laugh.
“You really think some obscure spell is going to defeat me?” she asked.
Sam frowned as Clark continued to chant, his gaze on Sam. He was raising his eyebrows. Oh, Sam thought, turning back to the three witches and focusing the heat vision on the book in Isabelle’s hand. She screamed in rage and pain, collapsing to the floor.
“Whoa, nice work dude,” his brother said beside him. And suddenly Sam realised they were back in their own bodies.
“Uh, what just happened?” Sam asked, looking around. They were in the motel room, watched by a man who looked a lot like Clark, only older, and a brunette woman with intense blue eyes.
“My work here is done,” she smiled at Clark.
“Thanks Z,” he answered. “I owe you one.”
“One day I might collect.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” a bald man said, standing in the open doorway.
Clark turned and grinned at him. “Guessing you knew I’d be here,” he said.
Sam stared at them. Now that he thought about it, they were a fairly well-known couple in Kansas. Lex Luthor had fought for the gay marriage bill and had succeeded just a year earlier.
“I figured it was time we met,” Lex said smoothly, entering the room and holding his hand out. “Officially, that is.”
“Uh, yeah,” Sam said, at a loss for words.
“Dude,” Dean said, sounding a little star-struck. “Never thought I’d actually be meeting Superman! You know, we could sure use your help with the Leviathans.”
“Oh, I think you’ll both do fairly well on your own,” Lex answered. “I just wanted to convey our gratitude. Let’s just say that if it hadn’t happened, things would have turned out differently for Clark and I.”
“Why did Isabelle ...” Sam asked.
“We believe her intention was for Clark to swap places with Jason Teague. But in her jealousy, Isabelle, uh, over-reached. It didn’t help that you and Jason are all her descendents. As is Lana Lang.”
After the events of that Hallowe’en, Lex had decided to do some indepth research into the countess and her family line and had discovered he had been right about the connection. Both the Teagues and the Winchesters had been descended from the same line as the Langs.
“And let’s not forget the spell was cast on All Hallows Eve,” Clark said.
“Witches!” Dean growled. “’M guessing Isabelle wasn’t the brightest of chicks.”
“You’d guess correctly,” Lex told him. “Because of the timing of the spell it increased its power.”
“Well, you know what they say ... Karma’s a bitch,” Dean commented.
“Named Isabelle,” Clark laughed, putting an arm around his husband. He smiled at the Winchesters. “Thanks again.”
Dean and Sam were left to blink at each other as the billionaire and his superhero husband walked out the door.
Author: Phoenixnz
Fandom: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: supernatural, established relationship, crossover
Characters: Clark, Lex, Sam, Dean, Bobby, Isabelle
Rating: PG13
Written for the Clexmas challenge
Summary: Isabelle casts a spell on the boys, which could 'spell' disaster for their relationship. Or not. There's magic, there's a ghost, there's snark, there's humour, Clark and Lex together and mystery all mixed together in one big crossover soup.
a/n: I wasn't totally happy with this as I started off trying to make it a crack fic, in a way, but it wanted to go in a different direction. Don't you hate it when fics develop minds of their own? I think it meets some of the criteria for the challenge. Well, there is Clex, it is Hallowe'en and there's a ghost. Does that count?
Isabelle was pouting. And it pissed her off. No, she decided. Lana was the one who was pouting. That stupid, weak ... who didn’t have the sense to take what she wanted. She could have had two men panting after her but she had held back like the good little virgin she was.
She had been surveying the ruins of the party Brianna and Madeline had dragged her to. This was not good, she thought. Clark had seemed to be having a good time. Of course, he’d been under the spell they’d used to liven up an otherwise dull party. But then he’d taken off. So she'd followed him. To, of all places, Lex Luthor’s.
How could Lana have missed this, Isabelle thought, spying on the two men in the bed. It was pretty clear what had happened. Clark had come straight to the mansion after the party had broken up, released Alexander from the spell and the two men were now ... Ugh, she said to herself. Okay, it was kind of hot, but really, why would Clark Kent have chosen someone like Lex when he had Lana?
Isabelle wanted revenge. The question was, what could she do? She considered her options, then a spell formed in her mind. Uttering the words aloud, Isabelle watched as a ribbon of purple swirled around the men, who had both fallen asleep. And it seemed as if their essences, their souls, were suddenly ripped from their bodies. As she watched, something else seemed to settle around them. She blinked, then shrugged. That hadn’t gone exactly as she’d hoped. Well, whatever it was, it would have to do. And at least it would make sure those two stayed out of her way until she got what she was resurrected for.
***
The first rays of morning sun drifted in through a gap in the drapes, seeking out the form in the bed. Make that two forms, buried beneath the rich mahogany-coloured velvet cover.
Dean Winchester slowly opened his eyes, wondering why the bedcovers felt so heavy. He tried to roll over onto his side, but the weight on top of him was too heavy. He lifted his hand to push the weight away and realised it was a body. A naked body. Eyes widening, Dean sat up suddenly, hitting his head on the hunk of con ... other body.
“Dude! What the fuck?”
“Dean, what the hell?” a voice thick with sleep murmured.
“Sam?”
He stared at the other form. That wasn’t Sam. It was a guy with dark curly hair and green eyes. As tall as Sam, but certainly more well-built.
The other man’s eyes widened and he gave a scream as he stared at Dean, then scrambled away from him, falling to the floor with a crash, dragging the cover with him.
“Dude, cover it up,” Dean said, averting his eyes.
The other man stared up at him, then down at his naked body.
“Huh? Oh shit!” He looked up again. “What about you? You’re ...”
Oh shit! Dean thought, grabbing a pillow to cover his own groin.
“What the fuck is going on here?” both voices chorused at the same time.
***
Clark awoke wondering why the pillow under him smelled a little musty. They certainly didn’t smell like home. Or Lex’s for that matter. He wrinkled his nose, rolling over, realising as he did so that he was on the edge of the bed. He fell with a crash.
“Ow!” he said. That really had hurt.
“Clark?”
Clark frowned. That hadn’t sounded like Lex’s voice. And he was so sure he’d been with Lex when he’d fallen asleep. Something wasn’t right here.
Rubbing his ass as he slowly got to his feet, Clark looked around him. This was definitely not the mansion, he decided, as his gaze took in the dirty walls, the ugly patterned carpet and the twin bed on the other side of him. And in that bed was a guy who could have been Jason Teague’s twin. Except his hair was darker.
“Jason?”
“What?” The Jason doppelganger stared up at him. “Clark, you doofus, quit fooling, you ... hey, wait a second. Who the hell are you?”
Clark blinked, then looked around, seeing a mirror on the door. He went over, tripping over the bedclothes as he did, then gazed in the mirror. The man staring back at him was a complete stranger.
“Uh, what’s going on here?” he asked.
“Don’t you know?” the other man asked.
“Well, duh, if I knew then I wouldn’t ask!”
The other man got up, joining him at the mirror to look at his own reflection.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he said. He touched the brown hair on his head. “I have hair?”
“Lex?” The other man turned and looked at him.
“Clark?”
“Um, I think we’re in trouble.”
Lex rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock!”
***
Sam looked at his brother. Well, he thought it was his brother. Only Dean could look at him with that totally pissed expression. Even if he was in another man’s body. Sam looked him over. The body he was in wasn’t that bad looking, he supposed. Bald, though. Why someone would choose to shave their head was beyond him. Sam turned and looked for his clothes. Well, the clothes that obviously belonged to the guy’s body he was in. He wasn’t sure what he looked like yet, since he’d yet to find a mirror. The bedroom they were in was huge. Bigger even than the motel room they’d been in.
Sam found a pair of jeans on the floor and some blue boxer shorts. Well, that was a start, he thought, scrambling into the clothes.
He heard Dean getting up and he turned his back so Dean wouldn’t be embarrassed. There was the sound of a door opening.
“Good morning, sir, would you and your ... uh ... guest ... care for some breakfast?”
Sam looked around and stared at the man in the suit. Dean was also staring with that deer in the headlights look.
“Uh, breakfast,” Dean said. “Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna, um, find some clothes and I’ll be right, um, there.”
The man stared back at him with a polite frown. At least, it looked like a polite frown from Sam’s angle. It was possible the man was thinking that Dean was seriously nuts.
Dean closed the door and began muttering.
“Yeah, clothes. That’s if I can find any.”
Sam blinked, wondering why his vision was going all wonky all of a sudden. It was like looking at an x-ray.
“Whoa!”
“What?” Dean asked.
“I can see right through you,” he breathed.
“What?”
“Dude, it’s like, I can see your bones and everything.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? Hello? Dean, we hunt demons for a living!”
“Well, that’s different,” Dean snorted.
Sam ignored him and looked around, realising he could also see through the walls. And, ahh, yes, what appeared to be a walk-in closet. He shook his head to clear it and strode over to the door he’d seen, opening it.
“Clothes,” he said.
Dean wrinkled his nose at him, then walked over to the closet, still holding the pillow over his groin, and began rummaging through the clothes.
“Whoa! Jesus! This guy must be loaded!” He came out, holding what appeared to be a very expensive silk shirt. Not that Sam would really know one silk shirt from another.
***
Clark looked around the room, searching through the clothing piled on the floor. He grimaced as he picked up a box with some slices of cold pizza still left inside.
“Ugh! These guys are slobs,” he complained.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Lex replied, gingerly picking up a pair of black boxers and throwing them aside, then grabbed a pair of jeans, digging in the back pocket for a wallet. “All right, let’s see what we have,” he said. “There’s a driver’s licence here for a Dean Winchester.”
Clark nodded. He’d picked up a similar pair of jeans and found another wallet.
“This one says Sam Winchester. So guess that means they’re related.”
“We’re related,” Lex sighed. “Brothers, probably.”
“Unless they’re married,” Clark smirked. “Which works out perfectly for me.”
Lex snorted in derision. “Is sex all you think about?”
“Can I help it if my boyfriend is sex on legs?” he returned. “And by the way, not that I’m knocking the old Lex, the new version of you is kinda hot.”
“Yeah, the new Clark isn’t so bad either,” Lex answered with a grin.
Clark took that as a hint and caught his boyfriend, pulling him into his arms for a kiss. He had to admit, kissing the new version was different. This Lex didn’t have that adorable scar on his upper lip. But it was still nice. More than nice.
He let his hand drift to the curve of Lex’s ass as he pulled his boyfriend closer. Lex opened his mouth under Clark’s, thrusting his tongue forward with a little groan.
“What in the name of ... What’s going on here?”
They broke apart, staring in confusion at the wizened older man who had seemed to come out of nowhere. Clark blinked as the older man stepped in between them.
“Have you eejits been cursed or something?”
“What?”
“Excuse me?” Lex asked. “Who are you? And where did you come from?”
“You got amnesia boy?” the man asked.
Lex cocked an eyebrow at him. “Boy?”
“What do you mean, cursed?” Clark asked.
“You’re brothers, eejits. Brothers don’t ...” The man shielded his eyes and shuddered.
Clark frowned at the older man. His visage slipped a little, almost like a television that had lost its reception for a second. He reached out a hand to touch the older man, only to find his hand went right through them. Clark jumped back in shock.
“Uh, I just put my hand right through you,” he said.
Now that he thought about it, the temperature had dropped in the room as well. Not that he’d noticed it before, having been preoccupied with kissing his boyfriend and all.
“Well, of course, you eejit. I’m a ghost!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lex snapped. “Ghosts don’t exist!”
The other man looked at him. “Are you out of your cotton-pickin’ skull, Dean?”
This was just getting far too weird, Clark thought.
***
If there was one thing Dean knew, it was that something smelled rotten in Bumfuck, Kansas. He and Sam had gone downstairs and enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast and explored the house. Well, it wasn’t a house, it was a castle. Which would have been perfect for a ghost looking for a place to haunt.
“Bobby would love this,” he had commented to his brother.
Sam had been too busy examining his reflection in the mirror to answer. Dean had grabbed his brother’s arm.
“You can finish admiring yourself later, dude. We got to figure out what the hell’s going on.”
Together they had gone out to explore the town and try to figure out what was what. Dean quickly learned that this Lex Luthor character was not exactly the most popular guy in town, but the guy whose body Sam was in, Clark Kent, was some kind of local hero. Not to mention captain of the football team.
Luthor owned some kind of coffee shop. Sam laughed at the decor.
“Are they kidding?” he asked. “Look at this place.”
This time it was Dean who wasn’t listening. He was staring at the form of a young man heading up the stairs to what he’d learned was an apartment above the coffee shop.
“Whoa!” he said. “Is that a shape-shifter?”
“What?” Sam asked.
“He looks like me. The real me.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the young man.
“Holy ... This place just gets weirder and weirder,” he said.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
They were about to head up the stairs to talk to the young man when they heard some sort of commotion. Sam looked at him. He seemed to be listening to something.
“There’s a girl up there,” he said. “Speaking Latin.”
Dean didn’t want to know how Sam heard that. It was already too weird, even for him. Damn it, they were supposed to be out chasing Dick. And that was not as dirty as it sounded in his head.
Then Sam’s statement finally hit home. Latin. And from the sounds of things all hell had let loose upstairs.
“Witches,” Dean groaned. “Figures.”
Before Dean could stop him, Sam rushed up the stairs. He heard his brother yell, “No!” before there was the smashing of glass and a body fell from the apartment. Sam ran out, catching the young man before he could be killed, looking around at Dean in horror.
Words appeared on the wall in flames which quickly died away to reveal the words The Barn, Midnight.
“Oh this bitch is toast!” Dean murmured.
***
It was a while before they could all begin to get any sense out of each other.
“So you’re a ghost?” Lex asked Bobby Singer.
“And you’re not Dean?”
“No kidding!” Clark murmured.
“Shut up, Clark. The grown-ups are trying to think here,” Lex admonished him.
If Clark had had his powers, Lex would have been toast just from the glare. Bobby raised his hands.
“All right, all right, let’s see if we can figure this out. Where were you when all this started?”
“Well, let’s see, I was in the mansion and Clark came over to spend the night.”
“Uh-huh. You do this often?”
“Clark’s parents are away for the weekend,” Lex told him. Not that it was any of the man’s business what they got up to.
“What about before that?”
Lex thought for a long minute, ignoring the way Clark was fidgeting. Lana had come over early that afternoon to get a bottle of wine and she had been acting rather odd. She had told him it was meant to be for Chloe’s birthday, which happened to fall on Hallowe’en.
“Who’s this Lana?”
“A friend,” Clark said. Lex glared at him. “Well, she is,” Clark said, shrugging.
“I don’t want to hear it, farmboy,” Lex told him.
“Tell me more.”
“Lana spotted this manuscript Clark and I had been studying.”
“Manuscript?”
“Uh, Lex,” Clark began. “Do we really have to tell him?”
“He’s a ghost, Clark. What’s he going to do? Call a reporter and get a front page spread in the Daily Planet?”
“Uh ...” Clark blushed. “Okay, yeah.”
“The manuscript hides a map to what we believe is the key to a repository of knowledge not of this Earth.”
“What in the blue blazes ...”
“Clark’s not from around here,” Lex said, continuing to ignore Clark’s whimpers of discomfort. He’d never been comfortable about others knowing his secret. “But that’s not important. When Lana saw the manuscript she spouted something in Latin then turned on me. Put some kind of spell on me.”
“Yeah, she did that at the barn too,” Clark spoke up. “She said something in Latin and then everything went kind of crazy. By the time I came out of it, it was almost midnight and the party was over. That’s when I went over to Lex’s and he was playing the piano like, like ...”
“A man possessed?” Bobby suggested. “Yeah, what you kids got yourselves is a witch. Does this Lana ... has she ever ...”
Lex shook his head. “Not that I know of. But she came back from a summer in France with a whole shift in attitude. And a tattoo.”
Clark looked at him. “You didn’t tell me that. How come you never told me that?”
“Shush Clark.” He looked back at Bobby. “I was talking to a cosmetic surgeon. Dr Fine. She told me about the tattoo. She said it had been done using a very unusual method.”
Bobby frowned. “Well, I’ve heard of demon possession before, but not by tattoos. I’m guessing this Lana person put a spell on you and you’ve ended up here. Question is, where are Dean and Sam?”
“Is it possible they might have switched places with us?” Clark asked.
Lex looked at his boyfriend. “You know, that’s the first logical thing I’ve heard you say,” he said. “Of course it’s possible.”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, this kid couple years back did a spell so Sam swapped places with him. What I don’t get is, why Dean and Sam?”
“Could they have some kind of connection to Lana?” Lex asked. “I mean, Dean does resemble someone else we know.”
“Who?”
“This guy named Jason Teague,” Clark said. “He was sort of my coach until he got fired.”
Bobby looked thoughtful. “Maybe there’s some kinda family connection. But no, it still doesn’t make much sense. When did you say this happened?”
“Well it was last night,” Lex told him. “Hallowe’en.”
“Geezus, you boys sure as hell got the mother lode, didn’t you? You must have really pissed someone off.”
“Maybe Lana was jealous?” Clark said. “She was kind of flirting with me, before ...”
“Before what?” Lex asked, instantly put out that Lana had been flirting with his boyfriend.
“She, uh, came over because she wanted a lock of hair. She didn’t seem too happy though when she looked at it.”
Bobby frowned. “Hair? Anything else you can remember?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay, you boys hit the books. You’re gonna need to figure out what kind of spell she was using.”
“How is that going to help us get back?” Lex asked.
“You need to know what you’re dealing with,” Bobby told them. “Don’t worry. Me and the boys do this for a living. Uh, did this for a living.”
Clark watched as Lex sat down at the small round table Bobby indicated, opening up a laptop. Then he turned back to the man, er, ghost.
“So, what’s your story?” he asked.
“Whaddya want to know for?”
“Well, you said you ‘did this for a living’.”
“Did! Past tense, Clark.”
“I know that, Lex. I can see the man’s dead, thank you very much. Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot mister 200 plus IQ. You know I might look big and dumb but I’m just as smart as you.”
“I didn’t mean to imply...” Lex began.
“Well, you did. You always act like you’re the one with the superior intellect, but you know I’m not the big dumb alien you paint me to be.”
“Hey, could you boys take this lovers’ tiff somewhere else and focus on the job?” Bobby said.
Lex sent Clark a pained look. He ignored his boyfriend and turned back to Bobby.
“I meant this whole hunting thing.”
Bobby began to explain that he’d become a hunter when his wife had become possessed by a demon. He’d then met John Winchester, Dean and Sam’s father, who had lost his wife Mary when she had been murdered by a demon. He’d become a surrogate father to the Winchester brothers over the years and had been helping them stop other demons from taking over.
“So what are they chasing now?” Clark asked.
“Ever heard of Leviathans?”
“You mean the sea monsters from the Bible?”
“Yeah. Except these ain’t like any sea monsters you’ve ever seen. These are bad mothers, and I mean bad. Worse than Lucifer, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. Their boss is a guy named Dick.”
“Dick?” Lex piped up. “Really?”
Clark glared at him. “Not funny, Lex.”
“I thought it was,” Lex replied, going back to the laptop.
Clark rolled his eyes. “I still don’t get how we could have time-travelled. I mean, we’re here in, uh, 2012 and Dean and Sam are in 2004.”
“Well, somethin’ must have gone screwy with the spell. That’s the only thing I can come up with. Of course, being Hallowe’en might have had something to do with it. Sometimes these spells need to be very specific.”
“Ya think?” Lex muttered.
***
“Okay, Sammy, what’ve we got here?” Dean said. They’d headed to the Kent farm, after finding out where it was, of course. And hadn’t that been an awkward conversation with one of the waitresses in the coffee shop. Not only that, the girl had been all over Sam, thinking he was Clark.
Sam frowned at the laptop.
“Uh, dunno yet. This laptop’s not exactly high tech.”
“Maybe we should have gone back to the Luthor place,” Dean told him. “I bet Daddy Warbucks has a high tech computer.”
“You read the message.”
“How do you know it was the Kent barn?” Dean said, then rolled his eyes. Dumb question. “Come on, Sammy, you gotta have it worked out by now.”
“I’m working blind here, okay? I mean, this Clark, he ...” Sam stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. “Whoa! This is amazing!”
“What Sam?”
“Well, I didn’t even get it before but this guy can hear things clear across town. And right now I’m hearing that girl, witch, whatever, plotting something tonight.”
“Like what?”
“Not quite sure, but she’s not alone. There are two others with her. Some girl named Madeline and the other one’s Brianna. Brianna doesn’t sound that bright.”
“Yeah, witch skanks never are,” Dean commented but Sam wasn’t listening.
“Isabelle. Okay, okay, let’s see what we can find.”
Dean watched anxiously as his brother began typing on the keyboard, checking a number of sites. He glanced at the watch. It was a curious kind of watch. The face was a Napoleon franc. This guy Luthor must be some kind of eccentric, he thought. Dean shook his head and sighed.
“Come on Sammy, we’ve got about three hours to midnight.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” Sam told him. “I’m working with tech which is about ten years out of date.”
“By which standards? Ours in 2012 or ...”
“Take your pick. Oh, here we go,” he said. “Countess Isabelle Marguerite Theroux, Brianna Withredge and Madeline Hibbins. All three were burned at the stake in early 17th century France.”
***
“Burned at the stake?” This did not sound good, Clark thought.
“Witnesses claimed Isabelle cursed the magistrate before being tied to the stake.” Lex’s eyes widened. “Clark, take a look at this.”
Clark glanced at ghost Bobby, then looked at the drawing Lex showed him. The face of the countess looked eerily familiar.
“Oh my god, that’s ... that’s Lana!” he said.
“Or a very close family resemblance. It could be that Lana is descended from the Theroux family.”
Lex typed in a few more commands on the keyboard and returned to reading.
“Okay, here’s something. Isabelle had a child. A girl. She was taken and raised by the father’s family. Duchess Gertrude.” Lex was frowning. “I know her from somewhere,” he said.
Clark watched over Lex’s shoulder, staring at the pictograph of the duchess. He shrugged.
“Dunno.”
Lex sent him a withering look. “Well, of course you wouldn’t know.”
“Who’s that?” Clark asked, pointing to another picture. It looked like ...
“Jason?” they both asked at the same time.
The image looked exactly like Jason Teague. Clark quickly read the text. The son of the duchess, he was Isabelle’s lover and the father of her daughter.
“History seems to be repeating itself in Lana,” Lex mused. “I wonder if ... Bobby do you know anything about the Winchester genealogy?” There was silence. “Bobby?”
Clark looked up. Bobby was gone.
“Great. Now what?” Clark sighed.
“I’ve no idea. None of this tells me how we’re going to break the spell.”
“We don’t even know what spell she used to get us here,” Clark complained. “This is useless,” he said, beginning to pace the room.
“There must be something we can do.”
“Like what, Lex? What?”
“Clark, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! God only knows what those guys are doing back h ... back in 2004.”
“Probably doing the same thing we’re doing, if what Bobby told us is correct. Trying to find something to break the spell.”
“Unless we could find another witch or something to switch us back,” Clark suggested.
“Far more trouble than it’s worth, Clark. We’re supposed to be hunters. What kind of witches are going to help hunters.”
“Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Lex got up from the table, looking thoughtful.
“We’re in the future, correct?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, there has to be a future you, am I right?”
Damn! Clark thought. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Okay, so ...”
Lex turned back to the computer and ‘googled’ Clark Kent.
“Yeah, here you are. Reporter at the Daily Planet.” Lex frowned, then began to laugh.
“What? What?”
“Superman? Are you kidding me? Nietzsche?”
“What are you talking about?” Clark asked, going to look.
There was an article written by ‘Clark Kent’ on Superman. Lex was still laughing.
“Seriously, Clark, we really need to revise your reading material. Superman,” he chortled. “And I thought I was the one on the ego trip.”
Clark grimaced. Superman. And judging from the image he saw of his future self, the uniform probably made him the butt of a few jokes.
“I hate you,” he growled at Lex.
“Sure, Clark. Whatever you say. Make the call.”
“Why me?”
Lex sent him a ‘well, duh’ look. Sighing, Clark picked up the cellphone and began dialling the number listed for Clark Kent.
“Yeah, um, is this Clark Kent?” he said, feeling weird to be calling himself.
“Yes, who is this?” a voice said. It sounded like his, if a little deeper. Geez, what did he say? Hello, this is Clark Kent speaking. Yeah, first the guy was probably going to think he was completely nuts and second ... “Hello?”
“Um, hi, my name is, uh, Sam Winchester. I need to, um, talk to you.”
“About what?” the voice said cautiously.
Clark looked desperately at Lex, who just waved his hand.
“Uh, well, why don’t we start with the fact that you’re, that you can, uh, leap tall buildings in a single bound and, um, run faster than a speeding train.”
“Who is this?” he repeated.
“Look, just come to the Granville Motel, room twelve and I’ll explain everything. Please hurry. We don’t have much time.”
Clark hung up before ‘Clark’ could reply. This situation was just getting weirder by the minute.
“You boys figured out how to get back yet?”
Startled, Clark whirled.
“Geez, Bobby, don’t do that!”
“Well, I am a ghost,” the man smirked.
If a situation called for heat vision, this was one of them. Pity Clark didn’t have his powers.
His heart practically jumped in his throat when there was a loud banging on the door. Lex went to answer it, opening the door to reveal a tall, well-built man wearing what looked like the Kryptonian equivalent of blue spandex. Clark stared at the man in blue, his gaze travelling down to check out the package underneath the red briefs, or whatever they were, and dude, he thought, you’re checking yourself out.
Clark shook his head, finally paying attention to what was going on. Lex was greeting the man.
“I’m guessing you’re Superman.”
Superman was peering at Lex with interest. “Jason?” he asked, then must have realised his slip.
“No, but perhaps a distant relative,” Lex said. “Why don’t you come on in?”
Superman stood with arms folded, glaring at them, as Lex began to explain.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked. “I have nothing to do with Luthor.”
“Ouch, well that kind of hurt,” Lex said, looking wounded. “You broke up with me?”
Superman frowned. “What? We didn’t ... we weren’t ...” obviously flustered.
“Guess that doesn’t happen to you very often, does it son?”
The blue-clad superhero peered at Bobby. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Clark had already had enough of this.
“Look, it doesn’t matter whether you believe us or not but we need to get back to Smallville 2004 or else we’re probably gonna be stuck like this forever.”
“Not necessarily, Clark,” Lex told him. “I mean, if Clark, uh, future Clark is here, then we must get back somehow.”
“Would someone please ... what do you mean, he’s Clark?”
“I’m you, or you’re me, or ... I don’t know,” Clark said.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Okay, remember when you were six and you first got super speed? You got lost in the woods and Dad spent hours looking for you.”
“Anyone could have told you that story,” the other Clark said.
“Only Mom and Dad know that story,” Clark answered.
“All right, fine, I’ll give you that.”
Lex spoke up. “What was the first thing your dad said to me the day I crashed the Porsche on the bridge? He told me to drive slower, remember?”
Superman/Clark peered at him. “Lex?”
“In the flesh, so to speak.”
“How did this happen?” he asked, clearly believing them now.
“A witch named ... “
“Isabelle,” he groaned. “So you need to break the spell?”
“Only these boys have no idea what kind of spell she used.”
“I’m guessing it’s some kind of transference spell,” he said. “But why transfer into ... who did you say ...”
“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Lex answered. “My guess is both Sam and Dean and Jason Teague are descended from the same bloodline. Duchess Gertrude and Isabelle Theroux.”
“Makes sense. Is there some sort of time limit on this?”
“I’m thinkin’ the boys have until midnight to break the spell. Or else it could be permanent.”
“Well, that’s debatable,” Lex said. “Any ideas?”
“One,” Clark/Superman said. “Wait here. I won’t be long.”
Clark and Lex paced the room, waiting anxiously for the future Clark to return. Clark looked at his lover.
“Lex, what do you think happened between them? Future Clark and future Lex, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” Lex sighed.
“Well, whatever it is, we have to find a way to fix it,” Clark told him.
Lex nodded. “You’re right. And we will. When we get back.” Lex wrapped his arms around his lover. “I promise you, Clark. I always said we’d be the stuff of legends and I meant it. Didn’t I tell you I would walk on hot coals to protect you and your secret?”
Clark smiled. Lex had promised him that and more the day Clark had faced his fears and told the older man everything. Especially how he felt about him. It had been a revelation to learn that Lex felt the same way. And that he’d accepted Clark for who he was.
He knew Bobby was in the room, but he couldn’t help himself. He kissed his lover, unable to wait until they were back in their own bodies.
“Oh for the love of ... stop it,” Bobby moaned. “Do I really have to see this?”
Lex paused long enough to smirk at the ghost of the hunter.
“If things don’t work out, you might just have to get used to it because I, for one, am never giving up my farmboy.”
“It’s a good thing I’m dead then,” Bobby told him. “I’d exorcise myself if I have to watch this.”
Fortunately for Bobby, Superman turned up with a woman in tow.
“Lex, Clark, meet Zatanna Zatara. She’s not a witch, but she’s as good as.”
The brunette smiled at them. “Howdy,” she said.
***
Sam was waiting anxiously for Dean, wondering if he’d managed to locate the girls. He paced the floor of the barn, alert for every sound.
“You’re early,” a voice said and he looked up to see the three witches standing in what he assumed was the loft.
Sam shrugged and smiled. The three girls smirked back at him and Sam braced himself for the onslaught as the trio used magic to throw everything that wasn’t tied down at him. Sam was very glad for the invulnerability of Clark Kent as a huge wagon wheel sent him flying backwards.
“Isabelle!”
Sam frowned. Was that Dean’s voice? He turned and stared as Dean entered the barn. Or at least, it appeared to be Dean in his own body.
Isabelle glared at him. “I thought I got rid of you,” she said.
“Nice try,” ‘Dean’ smirked. “But you should know you can’t get rid of a Luthor that easily.”
“Wait. You’re Lex Luthor?” Sam asked.
“That’s right. I’m guessing you’re Sam.”
“How is this possible?” Isabelle asked. “I ...”
“You’re a witch,” Lex told her. “You should know better than to cast a spell on All Hallows Eve. Clark!”
Sam watched in fascination as someone wearing what could only be described as his own meat suit began chanting something in what could have been Latin, or ... was he chanting backwards?
“Nrub eht koob,” Clark was chanting, glancing at Sam. Isabelle just looked confused, then she began to laugh.
“You really think some obscure spell is going to defeat me?” she asked.
Sam frowned as Clark continued to chant, his gaze on Sam. He was raising his eyebrows. Oh, Sam thought, turning back to the three witches and focusing the heat vision on the book in Isabelle’s hand. She screamed in rage and pain, collapsing to the floor.
“Whoa, nice work dude,” his brother said beside him. And suddenly Sam realised they were back in their own bodies.
“Uh, what just happened?” Sam asked, looking around. They were in the motel room, watched by a man who looked a lot like Clark, only older, and a brunette woman with intense blue eyes.
“My work here is done,” she smiled at Clark.
“Thanks Z,” he answered. “I owe you one.”
“One day I might collect.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” a bald man said, standing in the open doorway.
Clark turned and grinned at him. “Guessing you knew I’d be here,” he said.
Sam stared at them. Now that he thought about it, they were a fairly well-known couple in Kansas. Lex Luthor had fought for the gay marriage bill and had succeeded just a year earlier.
“I figured it was time we met,” Lex said smoothly, entering the room and holding his hand out. “Officially, that is.”
“Uh, yeah,” Sam said, at a loss for words.
“Dude,” Dean said, sounding a little star-struck. “Never thought I’d actually be meeting Superman! You know, we could sure use your help with the Leviathans.”
“Oh, I think you’ll both do fairly well on your own,” Lex answered. “I just wanted to convey our gratitude. Let’s just say that if it hadn’t happened, things would have turned out differently for Clark and I.”
“Why did Isabelle ...” Sam asked.
“We believe her intention was for Clark to swap places with Jason Teague. But in her jealousy, Isabelle, uh, over-reached. It didn’t help that you and Jason are all her descendents. As is Lana Lang.”
After the events of that Hallowe’en, Lex had decided to do some indepth research into the countess and her family line and had discovered he had been right about the connection. Both the Teagues and the Winchesters had been descended from the same line as the Langs.
“And let’s not forget the spell was cast on All Hallows Eve,” Clark said.
“Witches!” Dean growled. “’M guessing Isabelle wasn’t the brightest of chicks.”
“You’d guess correctly,” Lex told him. “Because of the timing of the spell it increased its power.”
“Well, you know what they say ... Karma’s a bitch,” Dean commented.
“Named Isabelle,” Clark laughed, putting an arm around his husband. He smiled at the Winchesters. “Thanks again.”
Dean and Sam were left to blink at each other as the billionaire and his superhero husband walked out the door.