Gift for Tasabian! Hand Holding
Title: Hand Holding
From: To Be Revealed! LadyONeill
For: Tasabian
Type: Fic, 2200
Rating: PG
Warnings: Set post series, while Lex is President
Summary: Superman is kidnapped by super villains and Lex is determined to find him for various reasons he's not ready to look too deeply into...until he rescues him and they actually talk without posturing and/or threats.
Request: see notes
Giftee Notes: Giftee prompted for Clark to be kidnapped and Lex to find him, with a happy ending. So this got a bit...um...silly? Lighthearted? Nothing at all serious. I have no idea where my brain went but this was fun to write and it definitely has a happy ending!
Hand Holding
Lex hears about it almost as soon as it happens. Between his own surreptitious monitoring and his unsavory contacts, plus the resources of the Secret Service, he knows when, how and who within fifteen minutes.
He just doesn't know where.
Somehow Superman's enemies have not only subdued and taken him, but removed him from the map.
And Lex can't use his office or all its considerable power to find him. Although he desperately wants to send the entire military out searching, impose martial law and curfews, round up all the culprits and any one who might possibly be connected to them, his sensible side restrains him.
To do so would be an impeachable breach of his sworn oath to the country and an unforgivable abuse of power.
If he was a lame duck President, he'd do it and to hell with the consequences, but he's barely into his second year of his first term and he needs all eight years to make the changes he's deemed necessary and his constituents voted him into office to make.
The same ones Clark, well his priggish alter-ego, has vowed to stop him from making.
For a moment, Lex wonders if this is some broad scheme of Clark's to derail his plans and his desire for a second term as President, but then he shakes that thought away. Clark is above that kind of scheming and, even if he wasn't, he's nowhere near clever enough to pull it off.
So, Lex has to use private channels to search and it takes too damn long.
Two weeks pass before he even gets an iota of a hint. He takes it, runs with it, sics Chloe and her do-gooders on it, and it takes another twelve days to find a location. A remote, uncharted island in the South Pacific.
He hates deserted islands. The only thing that makes him at all happy--outside of locating Clark in the first place--is that Oliver, the twit, is rather green behind his green mask at the possibility of getting stranded on one again.
Of course they're not going to get stranded. Lex has a fleet of ships and planes at his disposal. He even has a submarine. It's only a tiny abuse of power.
So, naturally, the island has an active, currently spewing lava bombs and boiling the surrounding ocean, volcano.
It takes a further three days to design the right device and develop the necessary chemical compounds to stop the flow of lava and blasts of lava bombs and literally freeze the magma in the caldera.
By the time the island is cool enough to walk on, Lex, his secret service agents and the Justice League have wiped the floor with the villains, most of whom have fled on hovercraft--very cool; he wants one--and as they have more important things to do, they let them go. It's not like the super villains won't pop back up again sooner or later. Within minutes of the last one leaving the island behind, they find Clark in green kryptonite dusted chains. The rock dust is just enough to keep him prisoner but not enough to kill him or let the lava do its job and burn him to ash.
He's as bald as Lex, though.
Relieved but not willing to show it, Lex can't help but snicker.
From beneath stubby, singed eyebrows, as Oliver and the robot guy remove the chains and help him down from the wall he's on, Clark glowers at him.
Lex revels in the glower.
*****
Lex manages to get Clark alone on Airforce One--no annoying Leaguers, no clingy Chloe. Simply because he's the only doctor that knows Clark's other identity and special issues, he reluctantly allows Dr. Hamilton to join them but otherwise it's him, Clark and ten Secret Service agents who have been sworn to guard all his secrets.
Lex has a lot of secrets. Clark's one is just the tip of the iceberg...or, in this case, volcano.
Plus, he's careful not to refer to Clark as Clark before any of them. While they may be baffled as to why he spent a fortune and a month searching for and rescuing Superman, they won't say anything or ask--too well trained. So, despite the years of Lex vocally calling out Superman as the primary reason humanity in general has become so pathetic and helpless and needing rescue all the time, they just accept and guard.
After shooing Hamilton out of the bedroom, Lex takes a seat next to the bed and waits for Clark to wake up.
Without hair he really is adorable and looks younger than he is, though Lex will need to show him how to draw on eyebrows. He looks weird without them.
Clark snuffles and tugs the purple sheets tighter around his body. The burn marks have all begun to fade, but, while his healing factor's kicked in, it's going to be slower than normal and also it will take some time to recover from weeks of kryptonite poisoning. Lex should know. Mathematical proofs he wrote to lay out the time line with a hundred possible factors included, won him the Fields Medal five years ago.
Maybe he should offer to put him up at Camp David, away from his fellow nosy reporters, and safe from other idiot super villains. The perimeter defenses alone have been upgraded to the point that, if he didn't have the access codes, even Lex couldn't break in.
Or it would take him a day or two.
Unlike Clark's pathetic little apartment which doesn't even have a doorman.
Although he wasn't abducted from there because only a handful of people, him being the only super villain--sometimes he truly loves that title--know his secret identity.
Which goes to show just how stupid, in general, people are. A pair of glasses and a bad haircut and they'll believe anything.
Like those shoulders--currently naked, Lex suspects he's all naked to allow his wounds to breathe--could belong to some mild-mannered reporter. Though, to be fair, Clark was raised on a farm and hefted hay bales and things.
Lex remembers how he used to enjoy watching him.
Actually, he still enjoys watching him, it's just, now, Clark rarely looks back within anything but disappointment.
After years of Clark self-righteously keeping secrets from him, Lex refuses to feel sorry about that. He's not the bad guy here.
Okay, technically he is, though to millions he's seen as much of a hope for the future as Superman. He didn't even have to buy votes--he was prepared to, of course, but, in the end there was no need. His platform was enough.
Well, for 51.05% of registered voters who actually voted. A part of him wants to put a mandatory voting law into place. The other part sadly knows what kind of idiots comprise the majority of his constituency, whether they voted, didn't vote, or voted for the other guy. He's not sure it's worth the inevitable hassle.
He wonders who Clark voted for.
"You," Clark grumbles, and Lex realizes that, one, he said that out loud and, two, Clark's awake. "I thought it a good idea to know where you are at all times."
Snorting, Lex attempts to look unconcerned as Clark tries to roll over and, after a minute, gives up with a pain-laden groan. "I have all the best drugs," he offers helpfully. "Do you want any of them?"
"No," Clark groans again, shivers even though the temperature is a perfect seventy-four degrees, and Lex rises to drag him into a slumped position against the satin padded headboard, then sits facing him and reaches for a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water. He helps Clark swallow a pill, then drink the water.
"Obviously, we can't use an IV on you, or you'd be on saline and morphine. Just make sure you drink plenty of water and Gatorade. I'll get you some in a minute. Fluids should help your skin heal. Electrolytes, even more so." At Clark's baffled look, Lex helpfully adds, "I can print out charts." His charts are things of beauty, works of art--he has some of them framed and hanging next to the Fields Medal.
"I burned...for weeks..." Frowning around the lip of the bottle, he finishes the last drop, and Lex replaces it with a full one. "Why did you rescue me?"
"Your annoying friends rescued you."
"Uh huh, okay, and they're where?"
Lex shrugs. He doesn't really care. "Hunting down the evil doers who took you would be my guess."
"Is this Airforce One?" Clark looks confused. "I'm pretty sure rescuing me is not a good use of United States resources."
"I'm on vacation. Where I go, Airforce One goes, and my Secret Service agents have to come along for my protection. Don't worry; they have no clue who you really are or why I had any interest in finding you and sending in my submarine and part of the Pacific Fleet." Damn. He really didn't mean to say that last bit. "I mean..."
With a smirk on his hairless face, Clark interrupts him, "So, how long were you looking for me?"
"I just happened to be in the area."
"With the Pacific Fleet." It's not a question.
"A very small part of it," Lex argues, silently cursing himself for giving anything away, but then Clark smiles brilliantly and reaches one hand, pink with new skin, out to take his.
"You were worried about me."
"Who'll rescue stranded kittens?" Lex scoffs, but doesn't let go of Clark's hand because, and he can admit this to himself, he's wanted to hold it since the other man was an underage high schooler and he was a much too old for him playboy.
"I'm sure someone's stepped up."
"They'll have to keep doing it. It's going to take you at least ten days to heal and get your strength back. A lot longer to regrow your hair. I'm not sure how you're going to explain that to your adoring public."
"Super villains did it?"
"Well, there is that," Lex admits, trying not to smile as Clark uses his free hand to gingerly feel up his head. "Bald as a baby's bottom."
"Stupid lava." Carefully Clark slides back down on the decadent memory foam pillows and bed and closes his eyes, but doesn't let go of Lex' hand.
Lex takes that as a very good but somewhat confusing sign. His own desires became obvious to himself the first time he thought to send the entire CIA out in search of Clark, regardless of the monetary cost, their covers, or their ongoing missions.
Actually, they became obvious back in a barn when Clark was fifteen, but there have been a lot of years and bad feelings between then and now.
"So...you rescued your greatest enemy."
"I'd prefer to think about it as I rescued my oldest friend."
Eyes still closed, Clark grins and squeezes his hand. "So...we done playing stupid games?"
"Well, there is that old adage of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer. I suppose if you move into the White House with me, that would be close enough."
Eyes opening and going wide, Clark snorts. "Going a bit fast, Lex?"
"One, you can run faster than the speed of sound, so let's not talk about fast, and, two, we've been going at no pace at all for too long."
"...Okay."
Lex is surprised. He didn't expect to ask so soon and, when he did, didn't expect that answer. "Okay? Wait. Maybe we should go one a date first. What if we're not compatible?"
Clark laughs out loud. "Lex, we dated for years. We just didn't realize it. Then we broke up because I was insecure and didn't trust you and you decided being evil was the right response. Then you died. Then you came back with no memory and, once that returned...it was easier for us to be enemies. I'm tired of that. Obviously, you are, too."
"When did you get so smart?"
"I'm pretty sure back in high school when I met this guy who was a certifiable genius. He lost his way for a while and I became kind of self-righteous."
"Kind of?" Lex feels his drawn on eyebrows crawl up his face.
The glower returns and it makes Lex tingle, but he just glowers back.
"But," Clark stresses, facial muscles relaxing, "You're actually good for the country and, I've heard that, more and more, First Ladies are affecting policy so..."
Lex chuckles. "I think you'll look lovely in a tiara."
"You might get me in a tux. Don't push it." But, Clark's smiling, and Lex smiles back because...this all just feels right.
Too fast in some ways, way too slow in others, probably not the kind of decisions people should make after painful trauma and weeks of worry, and then there's the whole issue of being the first gay President...
Lex finds he just doesn't give a damn. "Are your lips healed?"
Giving him a suspicious look, Clark nods, and Lex bends down and kisses him.
Clark kisses him back.
They never do stop holding hands.
End
From: To Be Revealed! LadyONeill
For: Tasabian
Type: Fic, 2200
Rating: PG
Warnings: Set post series, while Lex is President
Summary: Superman is kidnapped by super villains and Lex is determined to find him for various reasons he's not ready to look too deeply into...until he rescues him and they actually talk without posturing and/or threats.
Request: see notes
Giftee Notes: Giftee prompted for Clark to be kidnapped and Lex to find him, with a happy ending. So this got a bit...um...silly? Lighthearted? Nothing at all serious. I have no idea where my brain went but this was fun to write and it definitely has a happy ending!
Hand Holding
Lex hears about it almost as soon as it happens. Between his own surreptitious monitoring and his unsavory contacts, plus the resources of the Secret Service, he knows when, how and who within fifteen minutes.
He just doesn't know where.
Somehow Superman's enemies have not only subdued and taken him, but removed him from the map.
And Lex can't use his office or all its considerable power to find him. Although he desperately wants to send the entire military out searching, impose martial law and curfews, round up all the culprits and any one who might possibly be connected to them, his sensible side restrains him.
To do so would be an impeachable breach of his sworn oath to the country and an unforgivable abuse of power.
If he was a lame duck President, he'd do it and to hell with the consequences, but he's barely into his second year of his first term and he needs all eight years to make the changes he's deemed necessary and his constituents voted him into office to make.
The same ones Clark, well his priggish alter-ego, has vowed to stop him from making.
For a moment, Lex wonders if this is some broad scheme of Clark's to derail his plans and his desire for a second term as President, but then he shakes that thought away. Clark is above that kind of scheming and, even if he wasn't, he's nowhere near clever enough to pull it off.
So, Lex has to use private channels to search and it takes too damn long.
Two weeks pass before he even gets an iota of a hint. He takes it, runs with it, sics Chloe and her do-gooders on it, and it takes another twelve days to find a location. A remote, uncharted island in the South Pacific.
He hates deserted islands. The only thing that makes him at all happy--outside of locating Clark in the first place--is that Oliver, the twit, is rather green behind his green mask at the possibility of getting stranded on one again.
Of course they're not going to get stranded. Lex has a fleet of ships and planes at his disposal. He even has a submarine. It's only a tiny abuse of power.
So, naturally, the island has an active, currently spewing lava bombs and boiling the surrounding ocean, volcano.
It takes a further three days to design the right device and develop the necessary chemical compounds to stop the flow of lava and blasts of lava bombs and literally freeze the magma in the caldera.
By the time the island is cool enough to walk on, Lex, his secret service agents and the Justice League have wiped the floor with the villains, most of whom have fled on hovercraft--very cool; he wants one--and as they have more important things to do, they let them go. It's not like the super villains won't pop back up again sooner or later. Within minutes of the last one leaving the island behind, they find Clark in green kryptonite dusted chains. The rock dust is just enough to keep him prisoner but not enough to kill him or let the lava do its job and burn him to ash.
He's as bald as Lex, though.
Relieved but not willing to show it, Lex can't help but snicker.
From beneath stubby, singed eyebrows, as Oliver and the robot guy remove the chains and help him down from the wall he's on, Clark glowers at him.
Lex revels in the glower.
*****
Lex manages to get Clark alone on Airforce One--no annoying Leaguers, no clingy Chloe. Simply because he's the only doctor that knows Clark's other identity and special issues, he reluctantly allows Dr. Hamilton to join them but otherwise it's him, Clark and ten Secret Service agents who have been sworn to guard all his secrets.
Lex has a lot of secrets. Clark's one is just the tip of the iceberg...or, in this case, volcano.
Plus, he's careful not to refer to Clark as Clark before any of them. While they may be baffled as to why he spent a fortune and a month searching for and rescuing Superman, they won't say anything or ask--too well trained. So, despite the years of Lex vocally calling out Superman as the primary reason humanity in general has become so pathetic and helpless and needing rescue all the time, they just accept and guard.
After shooing Hamilton out of the bedroom, Lex takes a seat next to the bed and waits for Clark to wake up.
Without hair he really is adorable and looks younger than he is, though Lex will need to show him how to draw on eyebrows. He looks weird without them.
Clark snuffles and tugs the purple sheets tighter around his body. The burn marks have all begun to fade, but, while his healing factor's kicked in, it's going to be slower than normal and also it will take some time to recover from weeks of kryptonite poisoning. Lex should know. Mathematical proofs he wrote to lay out the time line with a hundred possible factors included, won him the Fields Medal five years ago.
Maybe he should offer to put him up at Camp David, away from his fellow nosy reporters, and safe from other idiot super villains. The perimeter defenses alone have been upgraded to the point that, if he didn't have the access codes, even Lex couldn't break in.
Or it would take him a day or two.
Unlike Clark's pathetic little apartment which doesn't even have a doorman.
Although he wasn't abducted from there because only a handful of people, him being the only super villain--sometimes he truly loves that title--know his secret identity.
Which goes to show just how stupid, in general, people are. A pair of glasses and a bad haircut and they'll believe anything.
Like those shoulders--currently naked, Lex suspects he's all naked to allow his wounds to breathe--could belong to some mild-mannered reporter. Though, to be fair, Clark was raised on a farm and hefted hay bales and things.
Lex remembers how he used to enjoy watching him.
Actually, he still enjoys watching him, it's just, now, Clark rarely looks back within anything but disappointment.
After years of Clark self-righteously keeping secrets from him, Lex refuses to feel sorry about that. He's not the bad guy here.
Okay, technically he is, though to millions he's seen as much of a hope for the future as Superman. He didn't even have to buy votes--he was prepared to, of course, but, in the end there was no need. His platform was enough.
Well, for 51.05% of registered voters who actually voted. A part of him wants to put a mandatory voting law into place. The other part sadly knows what kind of idiots comprise the majority of his constituency, whether they voted, didn't vote, or voted for the other guy. He's not sure it's worth the inevitable hassle.
He wonders who Clark voted for.
"You," Clark grumbles, and Lex realizes that, one, he said that out loud and, two, Clark's awake. "I thought it a good idea to know where you are at all times."
Snorting, Lex attempts to look unconcerned as Clark tries to roll over and, after a minute, gives up with a pain-laden groan. "I have all the best drugs," he offers helpfully. "Do you want any of them?"
"No," Clark groans again, shivers even though the temperature is a perfect seventy-four degrees, and Lex rises to drag him into a slumped position against the satin padded headboard, then sits facing him and reaches for a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water. He helps Clark swallow a pill, then drink the water.
"Obviously, we can't use an IV on you, or you'd be on saline and morphine. Just make sure you drink plenty of water and Gatorade. I'll get you some in a minute. Fluids should help your skin heal. Electrolytes, even more so." At Clark's baffled look, Lex helpfully adds, "I can print out charts." His charts are things of beauty, works of art--he has some of them framed and hanging next to the Fields Medal.
"I burned...for weeks..." Frowning around the lip of the bottle, he finishes the last drop, and Lex replaces it with a full one. "Why did you rescue me?"
"Your annoying friends rescued you."
"Uh huh, okay, and they're where?"
Lex shrugs. He doesn't really care. "Hunting down the evil doers who took you would be my guess."
"Is this Airforce One?" Clark looks confused. "I'm pretty sure rescuing me is not a good use of United States resources."
"I'm on vacation. Where I go, Airforce One goes, and my Secret Service agents have to come along for my protection. Don't worry; they have no clue who you really are or why I had any interest in finding you and sending in my submarine and part of the Pacific Fleet." Damn. He really didn't mean to say that last bit. "I mean..."
With a smirk on his hairless face, Clark interrupts him, "So, how long were you looking for me?"
"I just happened to be in the area."
"With the Pacific Fleet." It's not a question.
"A very small part of it," Lex argues, silently cursing himself for giving anything away, but then Clark smiles brilliantly and reaches one hand, pink with new skin, out to take his.
"You were worried about me."
"Who'll rescue stranded kittens?" Lex scoffs, but doesn't let go of Clark's hand because, and he can admit this to himself, he's wanted to hold it since the other man was an underage high schooler and he was a much too old for him playboy.
"I'm sure someone's stepped up."
"They'll have to keep doing it. It's going to take you at least ten days to heal and get your strength back. A lot longer to regrow your hair. I'm not sure how you're going to explain that to your adoring public."
"Super villains did it?"
"Well, there is that," Lex admits, trying not to smile as Clark uses his free hand to gingerly feel up his head. "Bald as a baby's bottom."
"Stupid lava." Carefully Clark slides back down on the decadent memory foam pillows and bed and closes his eyes, but doesn't let go of Lex' hand.
Lex takes that as a very good but somewhat confusing sign. His own desires became obvious to himself the first time he thought to send the entire CIA out in search of Clark, regardless of the monetary cost, their covers, or their ongoing missions.
Actually, they became obvious back in a barn when Clark was fifteen, but there have been a lot of years and bad feelings between then and now.
"So...you rescued your greatest enemy."
"I'd prefer to think about it as I rescued my oldest friend."
Eyes still closed, Clark grins and squeezes his hand. "So...we done playing stupid games?"
"Well, there is that old adage of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer. I suppose if you move into the White House with me, that would be close enough."
Eyes opening and going wide, Clark snorts. "Going a bit fast, Lex?"
"One, you can run faster than the speed of sound, so let's not talk about fast, and, two, we've been going at no pace at all for too long."
"...Okay."
Lex is surprised. He didn't expect to ask so soon and, when he did, didn't expect that answer. "Okay? Wait. Maybe we should go one a date first. What if we're not compatible?"
Clark laughs out loud. "Lex, we dated for years. We just didn't realize it. Then we broke up because I was insecure and didn't trust you and you decided being evil was the right response. Then you died. Then you came back with no memory and, once that returned...it was easier for us to be enemies. I'm tired of that. Obviously, you are, too."
"When did you get so smart?"
"I'm pretty sure back in high school when I met this guy who was a certifiable genius. He lost his way for a while and I became kind of self-righteous."
"Kind of?" Lex feels his drawn on eyebrows crawl up his face.
The glower returns and it makes Lex tingle, but he just glowers back.
"But," Clark stresses, facial muscles relaxing, "You're actually good for the country and, I've heard that, more and more, First Ladies are affecting policy so..."
Lex chuckles. "I think you'll look lovely in a tiara."
"You might get me in a tux. Don't push it." But, Clark's smiling, and Lex smiles back because...this all just feels right.
Too fast in some ways, way too slow in others, probably not the kind of decisions people should make after painful trauma and weeks of worry, and then there's the whole issue of being the first gay President...
Lex finds he just doesn't give a damn. "Are your lips healed?"
Giving him a suspicious look, Clark nods, and Lex bends down and kisses him.
Clark kisses him back.
They never do stop holding hands.
End