SV Fic: "Still Two Fools" 9/9 & Epilogue (NC-17) - Clark/Lex, Mercy
Title: "Still Two Fools" 9/9 & Epilogue 
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex, Mercy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,479, for these chapters; 25,475, fic total.
Spoilers/Warnings: Future fic, although some vague spoilers for S6.
Summary: Clark and Mercy team up to save Lex from his real arch-nemesis: marriage.
Still Two Fools
by Kantayra
Chapter Nine
Clark woke up sprawled out on his stomach across a big, soft mattress. At some point during the night, he’d managed to nuzzle his way in between two pillows, and they now formed a comfortable cocoon around his head, while his face pressed directly into the silken sheets. He realized belatedly that he was drooling a little, and that would probably leave a stain. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d always been a bit of a ridiculous sleeper, in any case.
The fact that his bed was big, soft, and comfortable triggered something in the back of his brain: he wasn’t at home. Home meant soggy cushions and a wooden frame that groaned and complained every time he moved. No, this was way better than home, silky and warm and…naked?
That last observation caused two brain cells to finally clink together, and Clark’s memories of last night returned as a blur of sweat, tangled limbs, and Lex’s moans.
Clark opened one eye, and sure enough there was Lex beside him. Lex lay on his side facing Clark, his cheek pillowed on one folded arm, his body curved ever so slightly in on itself. The bed was large enough that, for all Clark’s sprawling, the extended fingers of his right hand were still six inches or so from Lex’s hip. The sheet was hopelessly tangled around Lex’s legs, but it didn’t obscure the good bits from Clark’s view in the slightest. Lex was soft and relaxed right now, but Clark’s memory was providing him with wonderful images of what Lex had looked like erect and hungry.
Feeling suddenly very soppy, Clark inched over so that their bodies rested together, his hand possessively caressing Lex’s thigh. Lex let out a little murmur in his sleep, but otherwise showed no signs of stirring.
Something inside Clark ached at the sight of Lex like that. Lex’s face was gentle in his sleep, fine artificial eyelashes fluttering slightly and lips barely parted. There was something sweet and innocent about it, two words Clark had never associated with Lex before, even back when they’d been friends. A part of Clark wished then that Lex could be peaceful like that all the time, that when he woke up that indifferent mask wouldn’t snap into place and tense lines wouldn’t form around his eyes and mouth. He started composing a sonnet in his head to serenade Lex with when he woke up, but then he couldn’t come up with anything that rhymed with ‘ass’ that didn’t sound completely contrived, and switching to ‘butt’ didn’t help at all. He let the whole enterprise drop. It was probably for the good of the universe, anyway.
Clark couldn’t decide right then if he was being absurd or romantic. There was only one solution: coffee.
Clark couldn’t find his pants. He found his cape and one of his boots and Lex’s pants. However, the essentials of Clark’s uniform had vanished. If he’d been awake, it probably would have occurred to him to search for spare clothes in one of the eight million or so closets Lex must have had scattered about his bedroom.
Instead, Clark slipped into Lex’s too-tight trousers and staggered out of the bedroom into the hallway: “Co-o-offee!”
He wandered around hallways for a while and concluded, blearily, that this was Lex’s new master plan. He’d set up a penthouse so spacious that Clark could wander the labyrinth infinitely, forever separated from sweet, sweet coffee. It was brilliant, and Lex was evil, and where was the coffee already?
Eventually he stumbled into the kitchen, where he ran into Mercy. Mercy took one look at him and started snickering behind her hand.
Clark couldn’t bring himself to care. “Coffee?” he droned hopefully in a voice that would make any zombie proud.
Mercy gestured to a shiny silver machine that looked like some kind of medieval torture device.
Apparently, it was torture device because a quick x-ray provided Clark with no useful technique for extracting the coffee. “Coffee?” he whimpered piteously.
Mercy took, well, mercy on him and hit three buttons. A little orange light flicked on. The machine made gurgling noises. All was right in the world. Especially when, a few seconds later, steamy, caffeine-laden beverage emerged.
Clark fell upon it like a man who’d just crossed the Sahara to reach his first oasis. “Mmm, coffee,” were his first articulate words. Since it was still morning and only his first cup of coffee, ‘articulate’ had a very loose meaning.
“And all this time we thought Kryptonite was your Achilles’ heel,” Mercy snorted as she took a sip of her own glass. Whatever was inside looked kind of puce.
Clark didn’t want to ask. “No,” he agreed. “Coffee.”
It was almost a pleasant atmosphere as Clark properly caffeinated himself and Mercy watched him with a smug little quirk to her lips. Eventually, Clark’s higher brain functions returned, right along with his lower brain functions.
“I should probably bring Lex some coffee, too.”
“If you don’t want to be murdered within ten seconds after he wakes up? Sounds like a good idea,” Mercy agreed.
Clark shuffled about the kitchen and got another cup for Lex. He poured a - what was it now, third or fourth? - cup for himself as well. He was awake enough now that he didn’t all but inhale this one, however.
At that point, Clark’s stomach strategically growled. He’d had quite a workout the night before, after all. He gave Mercy a helpless look.
“Oh, Christ,” she sighed. “Now there’s two of you!”
From this, Clark gathered that Lex was equally incapable of locating breakfast in the morning. Mercy just shook her head, dug around in a few cabinets, and finally broke a couple of eggs over a skillet. She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out some chopped vegetables that she tossed in with the eggs. Tomatoes and mushrooms and peppers sizzled. Clark seriously debated asking Mercy to marry him. Lex would probably object, though. Which, of course, meant that Mercy would also object. So that was just a bad idea all around. Clark scrapped it immediately.
A plate was set in front of him, and Clark began wolfing down the eggs like they were almost as wonderful as coffee. “Lex doesn’t have a cook?” he asked, surprised, in between mouthfuls. If his mother were there, she’d be horrified. Or, actually, if his mother were there, she’d probably just be resigned since she’d had to deal with him like this every day for eighteen years.
“Too dangerous,” Mercy responded.
“I thought Lex was immune to all poisons,” Clark retorted.
“Too dangerous to let anyone else in the penthouse while I’m sleeping,” Mercy clarified, taking another sip of her own foul-looking concoction.
Clark hadn’t noticed it before because he’d been technically non-sentient, but Mercy wasn’t wearing her usual uniform yet. Instead she had on what must have been work-out clothes. Clark figured she probably spent four hours in the gym before heading out with Lex in the morning. That seemed like something she would do.
“You let me in the penthouse while you were sleeping,” Clark countered.
Mercy grunted. “It was a security nightmare too, believe me. But I draw the line at babysitting Lex while he’s in bed.”
That was actually good to know. Clark’s kinks were limited to anything involving Lex’s body and lots of nudity. Mercy watching over the proceedings would just have been creepy. “Yeah,” Clark winced in sympathy for Mercy’s job, “I guess I’m probably still number one on list of the people you’re supposed to keep out, huh?”
Mercy shook her head. “Number five.”
“I’m only number five?” Clark was almost offended.
Mercy ticked off on her fingers. “Brainiac, Lex’s father, Aquaman, Ted from accounting, you.”
Now Clark was offended. “I got beat out by Aquaman?”
“He’s way more annoying,” Mercy shuddered. “He talks about fish. All the time. And he keeps asking me if I like green and orange.” She shuddered again, just for good measure.
Clark considered for a moment. “Okay, I can see that.” He continued to eat merrily. “I’m still impressed you let me anywhere near Lex.”
“At least you’re not after Lex for his checkbook or a platform to take over the world,” Mercy shrugged. “The way you talk about him, it’s almost like you…care.” Mercy wrinkled her nose at the word like it was strange and foreign to her. Given the attitudes of all of Lex’s wives to date, it pretty much had to be.
Clark found himself kind of liking Mercy right then. For a psychotic, evil, supervillain bodyguard, she at least had a decent sense of fair play. He debated telling her this, except he realized that she would probably pull out her Evil Kryptonite Laser on him if he did so. He wisely kept his peace.
“That, and the fact that Lex can’t possibly marry you until Kansas legalizes gay marriage,” Mercy added with a smirk. “I’d say the world is safe for at least another century.”
Clark snorted. “Unless Lex sets his mind to it,” he countered.
Mercy grinned back at his joke, before her expression turned thoughtful. “I wonder…” And then she shook her head.
“What?” Clark asked, curious.
“I don’t know,” Mercy shrugged. “Possibly nothing. But didn’t that whole affair with Vivian seem a bit…strange to you?”
Clark coughed. “With the evil mailbox-looking alien trying to lay eggs in Lex’s brain? What on earth could be strange about that?”
Mercy went on like those facts didn’t seem strange to her in the slightest. It occurred to Clark, not for the first time, that they all led very surreal lives. “Things just turned out very well for Lex in the end,” she concluded. “He finally got you in his bed, which seemed highly improbable. You and I learned to coexist, which seemed impossible. And, when you think about it, since when is Lex that susceptible to mind control?”
Clark frowned. He seemed to recall that thought occurring to him more than once during their little adventure. Lex had thrown out stronger telepaths than Vivian without breaking a sweat. But why wouldn’t he…? Clark’s eyes widened when he realized what Mercy was implying. “You think that he…?”
Mercy shrugged. “Sometimes even I can’t tell if it was a scheme, or luck just happened to be in Lex’s favor. In fact, I don’t think even he knows half the time.”
Clark considered that thoughtfully and ate the final mushroom on his plate. Lex had been creating elaborate, contorted schemes for years and years now. What if it had become so internalized that Lex could lay out master plots without even being conscious of it? What if everything, all their lives up until this point, had all been part of one big plan to…?
He and Mercy shared a look and, simultaneously, shook their heads: “Nah.”
In the meantime, Mercy had been gauging his rate of consumption and had fried up another batch of eggs. Why on earth had Clark ever thought Mercy was evil? Clearly, she was a goddess.
“I should probably bring some for Lex, too,” Clark considered. Now that his appetite for food was mostly sated, certain other appetites were rearing their heads. Given that he was wearing Lex’s too-tight pants, this was kind of uncomfortable. He squirmed a little.
“You want to win Lex’s undying love and gratitude?” Mercy asked the most rhetorical question ever. She walked over to the fridge and pulled out an aluminum foil package before setting it on the table next to Clark’s elbow.
Clark peeled back to the foil to reveal several slices of pita bread, cut neatly into sixths.
Mercy was digging around the cupboard in the meantime and finally emerged with a jar of apricot preserves. “Here.”
Clark blinked at it. “Huh?”
“Preserves go on the pita,” she sneered at him like he was extraordinarily simple-minded.
“Seriously?”
“Trust me.”
Clark met her gaze and found that he couldn’t tell if she was putting him on or not. Then again, Lex just might be weird enough that he did eat pita bread with apricot jelly for breakfast. After all, he was Lex.
Clark placed his food, the pita and preserves, and Lex’s coffee onto the tray Mercy had procured from one of the cabinets. “Thanks,” he gave her a dazzling smile as he headed out.
“Oh, Kal-El?” she interrupted his escape.
“Yeah?” he asked nervously.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted for Lex. So please try not to mess it up, okay?” Her shoulders were tensed, and her hands were balled up into fists at her sides, like it was causing her actual physical pain to admit this.
“I’ll try,” he agreed solemnly.
Mercy almost smiled at him in response. It was a start.
***
Lex glared icy daggers of death at Clark when he poked Lex in the back until he woke up. “Kryptonite…” He fumbled instinctively for the drawer in the bedside table. “Where Kryptonite…?”
“I brought coffee.” Clark held up the cup.
Lex paused, and conscious thought seemed to return, overriding his intrinsic ‘kill Superman’ impulses. “Coffee?” He sounded exactly as helpless as Clark had half an hour before. Clark took this as evidence that they were soulmates.
“Here,” Clark handed him the cup.
Lex proceeded to do his best to drown himself in the cup. “Mmm, coffee…”
That was it. Absolute proof. Clark and Lex were Meant To Be. “I’ve got food, too,” Clark announced, settling into bed beside Lex with the tray. Their hips brushed, and Lex’s hip was still all wonderful and naked, and Clark almost forgot that food and coffee existed for a moment.
“Food?” Lex blinked blearily.
Clark pointed, somewhat uncertain, to the pita and apricot jelly.
Lex gulped, and it looked like his eyes were watering up at the sight. Suddenly, he turned to Clark, desperately serious. “Marry me?” he begged.
Clark had often wondered, while foiling Lex’s evil wives, how they’d ever managed to override Lex’s common sense long enough to get him to propose. Now he had his answer; Lex had absolutely no common sense whatsoever when it came to proposing.
“Uh, Lex,” he began nervously, “you do realize that last night was the first time we weren’t officially archenemies, right?”
Lex blinked at him. “So? I can have the caterers ready again on Tuesday.”
Clark resisted the urge to bang his head back against the headboard. “Don’t you think you should, I don’t know, make sure I’m not trying to murder you for your money or something first?”
Lex waved him off. “Does afternoon work for you?”
Clark sighed. “Lex, gay marriage is illegal in Kansas.”
Lex, hand halfway to his cell phone, paused. “Oh…damn. You’re right.” He bit his lower lip in a downright devious way.
Clark inched closer and slipped his hand onto Lex’s thigh. “How about we eat breakfast in bed,” he suggested, “and then work on, er, maintaining our truce,” Clark blushed horribly at the ridiculous euphemism, and Lex’s eyes turned downright feral, “and then, when we’re done, you can work on the whole gay marriage thing. By the time you pull that off, we should have enough proof that I’m not going to turn evil on you.” Clark’s hand slipped from Lex’s thigh to certain areas that seemed to enjoy Clark’s suggestions quite a lot.
“This is a good plan,” Lex agreed carefully. “I fully support this plan.”
Clark held out a piece of apricot-jellied pita for him. Lex took a bite out of it, his eyes locked on Clark’s all the while. Clark couldn’t decide whether to be grossed out by Lex’s choice of ‘food’ or impossibly turned on due to Lex’s nearly infinite sexiness. The latter seemed to be winning out, though.
Ah well, it was a weird life, but Clark figured he could get used to it.
Epilogue
Five Years Later…
Gay marriage, despite Lex’s most fervent campaigning, was still illegal in Kansas.
However, it was perfectly legal in Washington, D.C., where Lex now lived as the Senator from Illinois. The fact that he’d tried to push for gay marriage in Kansas so hard had thrown him back hopelessly in the polls in that state. Fortunately, LexCorp’s secondary headquarters in Central City provided Lex with dual residence, and the state’s well-oiled system of corruption had got him into office with only a two-year delay in his master plan.
All this meant that one fine day in May, Lex, Clark, Mercy, and Doctor Oblitero all ended up in a wedding chapel in D.C. where Lex Luthor tried to get married for the tenth time.
The entire time, Mercy’s shoulders were tensed, and she reached for the Evil Kryptonite Laser tucked under her jacket every time the wind blew or the priest coughed or two molecules collided with each other a bit too hard.
No one in the superhuman community could figure out how Doctor Oblitero had been invited as the second witness to the wedding of the century. After all, he was just a minor supervillain. Aqualad had beat him up once, for crying out loud! But, for some reason that had the rumor mills spinning like mad, he’d been allowed into the chapel at the very exclusive wedding of Superman and Lex Luthor, when no one else but Lex’s bodyguard had. It was a mystery.
Clark noticed all this solely because if he tried to focus too much on why he was there, his stomach began to get all queasy, like he has ingested an entire team of acrobats. Or maybe an entire three-ring circus. Lex wore that half-interested expression that made him look so blankly indifferent but really meant that he was desperately trying to hide something. Clark was willing to bet money that it was the fact that Lex was as scared shitless as he was.
Between all this and Mercy ‘accidentally’ shooting three votive candles and Oblitero drunkenly spilling vodka all over the priest, the two greatest archenemies the world had ever known made their vows. The world didn’t explode, or even the chapel. In fact, the only thing that exploded was an old office building on Harper Avenue, and that had been scheduled for demolition months in advance.
As Clark and Lex kissed, Clark was relieved to discover that he hadn’t suddenly developed strange and evil thoughts that were whispering to him to murder Lex in his sleep for his money, and then take over the world. Clark had never known exactly what evil power made all of Lex’s wives want to murder him once the wedding was over, but it seemed to hold no sway over Clark. Mostly, he just wanted to kiss Lex more, then get him naked a lot.
Clark considered this an auspicious sign.
Lionel Luthor didn’t manage to show up this time, so Doctor Oblitero couldn’t puke all over his shoes again. Instead, Doctor Oblitero puked all over the shoes of a woman who was arranging flowers just outside the chapel.
Everyone had fussed and apologized and somehow, while Clark was trying to help the woman, he must have jostled her a bit too hard because the black wig felt right off her head, and - sure enough - it was Lois Lane.
After that, Lex and Mercy didn’t feel sorry at all that Oblitero had thrown up all over her shoes. Clark kind of did, but then again Lois had been trying to intrude on his wedding, so he let it slide.
Lex had patted Oblitero proudly on the back.
“His super power is supposed to be that he can obliterate things, you know,” Lex confessed to Clark that night when they were finally alone. “But I suspect that he also has a sixth sense for vomiting on people that I hate.”
“We’ll have to name our firstborn after him,” Clark agreed.
Lex gave him a funny look. “Except that we can’t have a firstborn,” he reminded Clark.
“Oh. Right.” Clark had done a lot of research with the AI about Kryptonian reproduction in those days that had followed the disaster with Lex’s Almost Evil Wife #9. He had wanted to make sure that it didn’t involve laying eggs in the brain in any way, shape, or form. It seemed there were still some details he’d really have to mention to Lex one day, though…
In any case, Arvin was kind of a dorky name. Clark wasn’t sure he could name their son that, anyway.
“Clark?” Lex all but purred, lying back on the bed in a sultry sort of way that would have made fold-out models everywhere weep with envy if they could’ve seen.
“Yeah?” Clark gulped.
“Why are you still wearing pants?”
It was an excellent question. Clark remedied the situation immediately.
And, given the way that Lex moaned when Clark thrust inside him, Clark decided that this was a very auspicious sign, indeed.
And that's all, folks! Thanks so much to everyone who stuck through to the end and left me such wonderful feedback. :D I can only hope that my insanity was half as much fun to read as it was to write. :P
All Chapters
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex, Mercy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,479, for these chapters; 25,475, fic total.
Spoilers/Warnings: Future fic, although some vague spoilers for S6.
Summary: Clark and Mercy team up to save Lex from his real arch-nemesis: marriage.
Still Two Fools
by Kantayra
Chapter Nine
Clark woke up sprawled out on his stomach across a big, soft mattress. At some point during the night, he’d managed to nuzzle his way in between two pillows, and they now formed a comfortable cocoon around his head, while his face pressed directly into the silken sheets. He realized belatedly that he was drooling a little, and that would probably leave a stain. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d always been a bit of a ridiculous sleeper, in any case.
The fact that his bed was big, soft, and comfortable triggered something in the back of his brain: he wasn’t at home. Home meant soggy cushions and a wooden frame that groaned and complained every time he moved. No, this was way better than home, silky and warm and…naked?
That last observation caused two brain cells to finally clink together, and Clark’s memories of last night returned as a blur of sweat, tangled limbs, and Lex’s moans.
Clark opened one eye, and sure enough there was Lex beside him. Lex lay on his side facing Clark, his cheek pillowed on one folded arm, his body curved ever so slightly in on itself. The bed was large enough that, for all Clark’s sprawling, the extended fingers of his right hand were still six inches or so from Lex’s hip. The sheet was hopelessly tangled around Lex’s legs, but it didn’t obscure the good bits from Clark’s view in the slightest. Lex was soft and relaxed right now, but Clark’s memory was providing him with wonderful images of what Lex had looked like erect and hungry.
Feeling suddenly very soppy, Clark inched over so that their bodies rested together, his hand possessively caressing Lex’s thigh. Lex let out a little murmur in his sleep, but otherwise showed no signs of stirring.
Something inside Clark ached at the sight of Lex like that. Lex’s face was gentle in his sleep, fine artificial eyelashes fluttering slightly and lips barely parted. There was something sweet and innocent about it, two words Clark had never associated with Lex before, even back when they’d been friends. A part of Clark wished then that Lex could be peaceful like that all the time, that when he woke up that indifferent mask wouldn’t snap into place and tense lines wouldn’t form around his eyes and mouth. He started composing a sonnet in his head to serenade Lex with when he woke up, but then he couldn’t come up with anything that rhymed with ‘ass’ that didn’t sound completely contrived, and switching to ‘butt’ didn’t help at all. He let the whole enterprise drop. It was probably for the good of the universe, anyway.
Clark couldn’t decide right then if he was being absurd or romantic. There was only one solution: coffee.
Clark couldn’t find his pants. He found his cape and one of his boots and Lex’s pants. However, the essentials of Clark’s uniform had vanished. If he’d been awake, it probably would have occurred to him to search for spare clothes in one of the eight million or so closets Lex must have had scattered about his bedroom.
Instead, Clark slipped into Lex’s too-tight trousers and staggered out of the bedroom into the hallway: “Co-o-offee!”
He wandered around hallways for a while and concluded, blearily, that this was Lex’s new master plan. He’d set up a penthouse so spacious that Clark could wander the labyrinth infinitely, forever separated from sweet, sweet coffee. It was brilliant, and Lex was evil, and where was the coffee already?
Eventually he stumbled into the kitchen, where he ran into Mercy. Mercy took one look at him and started snickering behind her hand.
Clark couldn’t bring himself to care. “Coffee?” he droned hopefully in a voice that would make any zombie proud.
Mercy gestured to a shiny silver machine that looked like some kind of medieval torture device.
Apparently, it was torture device because a quick x-ray provided Clark with no useful technique for extracting the coffee. “Coffee?” he whimpered piteously.
Mercy took, well, mercy on him and hit three buttons. A little orange light flicked on. The machine made gurgling noises. All was right in the world. Especially when, a few seconds later, steamy, caffeine-laden beverage emerged.
Clark fell upon it like a man who’d just crossed the Sahara to reach his first oasis. “Mmm, coffee,” were his first articulate words. Since it was still morning and only his first cup of coffee, ‘articulate’ had a very loose meaning.
“And all this time we thought Kryptonite was your Achilles’ heel,” Mercy snorted as she took a sip of her own glass. Whatever was inside looked kind of puce.
Clark didn’t want to ask. “No,” he agreed. “Coffee.”
It was almost a pleasant atmosphere as Clark properly caffeinated himself and Mercy watched him with a smug little quirk to her lips. Eventually, Clark’s higher brain functions returned, right along with his lower brain functions.
“I should probably bring Lex some coffee, too.”
“If you don’t want to be murdered within ten seconds after he wakes up? Sounds like a good idea,” Mercy agreed.
Clark shuffled about the kitchen and got another cup for Lex. He poured a - what was it now, third or fourth? - cup for himself as well. He was awake enough now that he didn’t all but inhale this one, however.
At that point, Clark’s stomach strategically growled. He’d had quite a workout the night before, after all. He gave Mercy a helpless look.
“Oh, Christ,” she sighed. “Now there’s two of you!”
From this, Clark gathered that Lex was equally incapable of locating breakfast in the morning. Mercy just shook her head, dug around in a few cabinets, and finally broke a couple of eggs over a skillet. She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out some chopped vegetables that she tossed in with the eggs. Tomatoes and mushrooms and peppers sizzled. Clark seriously debated asking Mercy to marry him. Lex would probably object, though. Which, of course, meant that Mercy would also object. So that was just a bad idea all around. Clark scrapped it immediately.
A plate was set in front of him, and Clark began wolfing down the eggs like they were almost as wonderful as coffee. “Lex doesn’t have a cook?” he asked, surprised, in between mouthfuls. If his mother were there, she’d be horrified. Or, actually, if his mother were there, she’d probably just be resigned since she’d had to deal with him like this every day for eighteen years.
“Too dangerous,” Mercy responded.
“I thought Lex was immune to all poisons,” Clark retorted.
“Too dangerous to let anyone else in the penthouse while I’m sleeping,” Mercy clarified, taking another sip of her own foul-looking concoction.
Clark hadn’t noticed it before because he’d been technically non-sentient, but Mercy wasn’t wearing her usual uniform yet. Instead she had on what must have been work-out clothes. Clark figured she probably spent four hours in the gym before heading out with Lex in the morning. That seemed like something she would do.
“You let me in the penthouse while you were sleeping,” Clark countered.
Mercy grunted. “It was a security nightmare too, believe me. But I draw the line at babysitting Lex while he’s in bed.”
That was actually good to know. Clark’s kinks were limited to anything involving Lex’s body and lots of nudity. Mercy watching over the proceedings would just have been creepy. “Yeah,” Clark winced in sympathy for Mercy’s job, “I guess I’m probably still number one on list of the people you’re supposed to keep out, huh?”
Mercy shook her head. “Number five.”
“I’m only number five?” Clark was almost offended.
Mercy ticked off on her fingers. “Brainiac, Lex’s father, Aquaman, Ted from accounting, you.”
Now Clark was offended. “I got beat out by Aquaman?”
“He’s way more annoying,” Mercy shuddered. “He talks about fish. All the time. And he keeps asking me if I like green and orange.” She shuddered again, just for good measure.
Clark considered for a moment. “Okay, I can see that.” He continued to eat merrily. “I’m still impressed you let me anywhere near Lex.”
“At least you’re not after Lex for his checkbook or a platform to take over the world,” Mercy shrugged. “The way you talk about him, it’s almost like you…care.” Mercy wrinkled her nose at the word like it was strange and foreign to her. Given the attitudes of all of Lex’s wives to date, it pretty much had to be.
Clark found himself kind of liking Mercy right then. For a psychotic, evil, supervillain bodyguard, she at least had a decent sense of fair play. He debated telling her this, except he realized that she would probably pull out her Evil Kryptonite Laser on him if he did so. He wisely kept his peace.
“That, and the fact that Lex can’t possibly marry you until Kansas legalizes gay marriage,” Mercy added with a smirk. “I’d say the world is safe for at least another century.”
Clark snorted. “Unless Lex sets his mind to it,” he countered.
Mercy grinned back at his joke, before her expression turned thoughtful. “I wonder…” And then she shook her head.
“What?” Clark asked, curious.
“I don’t know,” Mercy shrugged. “Possibly nothing. But didn’t that whole affair with Vivian seem a bit…strange to you?”
Clark coughed. “With the evil mailbox-looking alien trying to lay eggs in Lex’s brain? What on earth could be strange about that?”
Mercy went on like those facts didn’t seem strange to her in the slightest. It occurred to Clark, not for the first time, that they all led very surreal lives. “Things just turned out very well for Lex in the end,” she concluded. “He finally got you in his bed, which seemed highly improbable. You and I learned to coexist, which seemed impossible. And, when you think about it, since when is Lex that susceptible to mind control?”
Clark frowned. He seemed to recall that thought occurring to him more than once during their little adventure. Lex had thrown out stronger telepaths than Vivian without breaking a sweat. But why wouldn’t he…? Clark’s eyes widened when he realized what Mercy was implying. “You think that he…?”
Mercy shrugged. “Sometimes even I can’t tell if it was a scheme, or luck just happened to be in Lex’s favor. In fact, I don’t think even he knows half the time.”
Clark considered that thoughtfully and ate the final mushroom on his plate. Lex had been creating elaborate, contorted schemes for years and years now. What if it had become so internalized that Lex could lay out master plots without even being conscious of it? What if everything, all their lives up until this point, had all been part of one big plan to…?
He and Mercy shared a look and, simultaneously, shook their heads: “Nah.”
In the meantime, Mercy had been gauging his rate of consumption and had fried up another batch of eggs. Why on earth had Clark ever thought Mercy was evil? Clearly, she was a goddess.
“I should probably bring some for Lex, too,” Clark considered. Now that his appetite for food was mostly sated, certain other appetites were rearing their heads. Given that he was wearing Lex’s too-tight pants, this was kind of uncomfortable. He squirmed a little.
“You want to win Lex’s undying love and gratitude?” Mercy asked the most rhetorical question ever. She walked over to the fridge and pulled out an aluminum foil package before setting it on the table next to Clark’s elbow.
Clark peeled back to the foil to reveal several slices of pita bread, cut neatly into sixths.
Mercy was digging around the cupboard in the meantime and finally emerged with a jar of apricot preserves. “Here.”
Clark blinked at it. “Huh?”
“Preserves go on the pita,” she sneered at him like he was extraordinarily simple-minded.
“Seriously?”
“Trust me.”
Clark met her gaze and found that he couldn’t tell if she was putting him on or not. Then again, Lex just might be weird enough that he did eat pita bread with apricot jelly for breakfast. After all, he was Lex.
Clark placed his food, the pita and preserves, and Lex’s coffee onto the tray Mercy had procured from one of the cabinets. “Thanks,” he gave her a dazzling smile as he headed out.
“Oh, Kal-El?” she interrupted his escape.
“Yeah?” he asked nervously.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted for Lex. So please try not to mess it up, okay?” Her shoulders were tensed, and her hands were balled up into fists at her sides, like it was causing her actual physical pain to admit this.
“I’ll try,” he agreed solemnly.
Mercy almost smiled at him in response. It was a start.
***
Lex glared icy daggers of death at Clark when he poked Lex in the back until he woke up. “Kryptonite…” He fumbled instinctively for the drawer in the bedside table. “Where Kryptonite…?”
“I brought coffee.” Clark held up the cup.
Lex paused, and conscious thought seemed to return, overriding his intrinsic ‘kill Superman’ impulses. “Coffee?” He sounded exactly as helpless as Clark had half an hour before. Clark took this as evidence that they were soulmates.
“Here,” Clark handed him the cup.
Lex proceeded to do his best to drown himself in the cup. “Mmm, coffee…”
That was it. Absolute proof. Clark and Lex were Meant To Be. “I’ve got food, too,” Clark announced, settling into bed beside Lex with the tray. Their hips brushed, and Lex’s hip was still all wonderful and naked, and Clark almost forgot that food and coffee existed for a moment.
“Food?” Lex blinked blearily.
Clark pointed, somewhat uncertain, to the pita and apricot jelly.
Lex gulped, and it looked like his eyes were watering up at the sight. Suddenly, he turned to Clark, desperately serious. “Marry me?” he begged.
Clark had often wondered, while foiling Lex’s evil wives, how they’d ever managed to override Lex’s common sense long enough to get him to propose. Now he had his answer; Lex had absolutely no common sense whatsoever when it came to proposing.
“Uh, Lex,” he began nervously, “you do realize that last night was the first time we weren’t officially archenemies, right?”
Lex blinked at him. “So? I can have the caterers ready again on Tuesday.”
Clark resisted the urge to bang his head back against the headboard. “Don’t you think you should, I don’t know, make sure I’m not trying to murder you for your money or something first?”
Lex waved him off. “Does afternoon work for you?”
Clark sighed. “Lex, gay marriage is illegal in Kansas.”
Lex, hand halfway to his cell phone, paused. “Oh…damn. You’re right.” He bit his lower lip in a downright devious way.
Clark inched closer and slipped his hand onto Lex’s thigh. “How about we eat breakfast in bed,” he suggested, “and then work on, er, maintaining our truce,” Clark blushed horribly at the ridiculous euphemism, and Lex’s eyes turned downright feral, “and then, when we’re done, you can work on the whole gay marriage thing. By the time you pull that off, we should have enough proof that I’m not going to turn evil on you.” Clark’s hand slipped from Lex’s thigh to certain areas that seemed to enjoy Clark’s suggestions quite a lot.
“This is a good plan,” Lex agreed carefully. “I fully support this plan.”
Clark held out a piece of apricot-jellied pita for him. Lex took a bite out of it, his eyes locked on Clark’s all the while. Clark couldn’t decide whether to be grossed out by Lex’s choice of ‘food’ or impossibly turned on due to Lex’s nearly infinite sexiness. The latter seemed to be winning out, though.
Ah well, it was a weird life, but Clark figured he could get used to it.
Epilogue
Five Years Later…
Gay marriage, despite Lex’s most fervent campaigning, was still illegal in Kansas.
However, it was perfectly legal in Washington, D.C., where Lex now lived as the Senator from Illinois. The fact that he’d tried to push for gay marriage in Kansas so hard had thrown him back hopelessly in the polls in that state. Fortunately, LexCorp’s secondary headquarters in Central City provided Lex with dual residence, and the state’s well-oiled system of corruption had got him into office with only a two-year delay in his master plan.
All this meant that one fine day in May, Lex, Clark, Mercy, and Doctor Oblitero all ended up in a wedding chapel in D.C. where Lex Luthor tried to get married for the tenth time.
The entire time, Mercy’s shoulders were tensed, and she reached for the Evil Kryptonite Laser tucked under her jacket every time the wind blew or the priest coughed or two molecules collided with each other a bit too hard.
No one in the superhuman community could figure out how Doctor Oblitero had been invited as the second witness to the wedding of the century. After all, he was just a minor supervillain. Aqualad had beat him up once, for crying out loud! But, for some reason that had the rumor mills spinning like mad, he’d been allowed into the chapel at the very exclusive wedding of Superman and Lex Luthor, when no one else but Lex’s bodyguard had. It was a mystery.
Clark noticed all this solely because if he tried to focus too much on why he was there, his stomach began to get all queasy, like he has ingested an entire team of acrobats. Or maybe an entire three-ring circus. Lex wore that half-interested expression that made him look so blankly indifferent but really meant that he was desperately trying to hide something. Clark was willing to bet money that it was the fact that Lex was as scared shitless as he was.
Between all this and Mercy ‘accidentally’ shooting three votive candles and Oblitero drunkenly spilling vodka all over the priest, the two greatest archenemies the world had ever known made their vows. The world didn’t explode, or even the chapel. In fact, the only thing that exploded was an old office building on Harper Avenue, and that had been scheduled for demolition months in advance.
As Clark and Lex kissed, Clark was relieved to discover that he hadn’t suddenly developed strange and evil thoughts that were whispering to him to murder Lex in his sleep for his money, and then take over the world. Clark had never known exactly what evil power made all of Lex’s wives want to murder him once the wedding was over, but it seemed to hold no sway over Clark. Mostly, he just wanted to kiss Lex more, then get him naked a lot.
Clark considered this an auspicious sign.
Lionel Luthor didn’t manage to show up this time, so Doctor Oblitero couldn’t puke all over his shoes again. Instead, Doctor Oblitero puked all over the shoes of a woman who was arranging flowers just outside the chapel.
Everyone had fussed and apologized and somehow, while Clark was trying to help the woman, he must have jostled her a bit too hard because the black wig felt right off her head, and - sure enough - it was Lois Lane.
After that, Lex and Mercy didn’t feel sorry at all that Oblitero had thrown up all over her shoes. Clark kind of did, but then again Lois had been trying to intrude on his wedding, so he let it slide.
Lex had patted Oblitero proudly on the back.
“His super power is supposed to be that he can obliterate things, you know,” Lex confessed to Clark that night when they were finally alone. “But I suspect that he also has a sixth sense for vomiting on people that I hate.”
“We’ll have to name our firstborn after him,” Clark agreed.
Lex gave him a funny look. “Except that we can’t have a firstborn,” he reminded Clark.
“Oh. Right.” Clark had done a lot of research with the AI about Kryptonian reproduction in those days that had followed the disaster with Lex’s Almost Evil Wife #9. He had wanted to make sure that it didn’t involve laying eggs in the brain in any way, shape, or form. It seemed there were still some details he’d really have to mention to Lex one day, though…
In any case, Arvin was kind of a dorky name. Clark wasn’t sure he could name their son that, anyway.
“Clark?” Lex all but purred, lying back on the bed in a sultry sort of way that would have made fold-out models everywhere weep with envy if they could’ve seen.
“Yeah?” Clark gulped.
“Why are you still wearing pants?”
It was an excellent question. Clark remedied the situation immediately.
And, given the way that Lex moaned when Clark thrust inside him, Clark decided that this was a very auspicious sign, indeed.
And that's all, folks! Thanks so much to everyone who stuck through to the end and left me such wonderful feedback. :D I can only hope that my insanity was half as much fun to read as it was to write. :P
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