Santa Baby: A Clexmas Carol
Pairing: Clex
Genre: Humor, AU/Futurefic, Holiday fic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 601
Summary: So hurry down the chimney tonight.
Warnings: All-dialogue and probably bordering on crack.
A/N: The second of my "Clexmas Carols" collection. It helps if you know the song (the Cynthia Basinet version is top in my rotation the last few years), but you don't have to.
"Clark ... oh Clark ..."
"Mmmffghk. What?"
"Wake up. It's Christmas."
"What time is it?"
"Five a.m. - five a.m. Christmas morning to be precise."
"How old are you?"
"Old enough for this."
"Mmmmm. Hey, come back."
"No, you come on. Let's go see what Santa brought you."
"What's this all about? I thought you hated Christmas."
"I do. But you seem to have been an awful good boy. Look at this stack of presents."
"Lex ... you really shouldn't have ..."
"Don't thank me - Santa, remember? Here, start with this one."
"Is this ... sable?"
"Beautiful, isn't it? Nice and warm for that silly frigid Arctic."
"I can't ..."
"I don't think Santa accepts returns. This one comes next."
"Keys?"
"Oh, so that explains the new convertible in the carriage house. It's a classic - '54, light blue. Santa has great taste. Maybe you'll let me drive it some time?"
"Lex. This is really too much."
"I completely disagree; you've earned it. Think of all the fun you've passed on, all the boys you haven't kissed all year. Oliver in particular has been just begging for it, but you've ignored him completely. You've been so good."
"You've been good too, now that I think about it ... Oliver can be tough to resist."
"Clearly Santa disagrees; not a single present for me. Oh well, being evil does have its consequences. I'll just enjoy watching you open the next one."
"Ok, this is more reasonable - a picture frame. ... Wait, is that a yacht?"
"The S.S. Warrior Angel. Appropriate; you have been an angel all year. What's next?"
"It's ... something in legalese, I can't ... hold on. The deed to a platinum mine?"
"Everyone needs one, really. Is that the last one? Oh no, wait, there's still your stocking. Nice and full, too. Here."
"A brochure for Metropolis Luxury Duplexes. And ... blank checks?"
"Oh, that Santa. He's spoiling you now."
"Funny, Santa's signature looks awfully like two L's."
"He's crafty like that. Hmm, looks like there might be one more surprise ... what's that over there hanging from the tree?"
"Lex."
"What?"
"I know what that is."
"Did you x-ray it? That's cheating."
"Stop. Anyone would know that blue box, and the white ribbon ... you can't do this. It's too much."
"I appreciate your gratitude, Clark. But really, your disbelief in Santa is very disappointing. Clearly he believes in you."
"Lex. Santa doesn't shop at Tiffany's."
"Maybe he does. Open it."
"No."
"Don't be so stubborn. You're ruining the fun."
"I am not. If you're going to give me a ring, you have to at least get down on your knee."
"I'm offended; it takes more than a phone call to get me on my knees. Now will you just open your present? It may not be what you think it is."
"Wait, there's a second box inside. Is this lead? ... Oh!"
"It's not exactly a diamond. I'm sorry about that; if you want one, you know you can have it."
"No, I don't want a diamond. But I don't understand, Lex. Why are you giving me your Kryptonite ring?"
"Because I don't want it anymore. You should be ... free to make your own choices."
"Lex."
"Yes?"
"I already have made my own choice."
"Have you?"
"I'm not here because you made me. I'm here because I want you."
"Mmm. Maybe I do get a Christmas present after all."
"Oh, you definitely do. There's just one problem."
"What's that?"
"It's sort of under my clothes."
"Well then, let's get to unwrapping it, shall we?"
Genre: Humor, AU/Futurefic, Holiday fic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 601
Summary: So hurry down the chimney tonight.
Warnings: All-dialogue and probably bordering on crack.
A/N: The second of my "Clexmas Carols" collection. It helps if you know the song (the Cynthia Basinet version is top in my rotation the last few years), but you don't have to.
"Clark ... oh Clark ..."
"Mmmffghk. What?"
"Wake up. It's Christmas."
"What time is it?"
"Five a.m. - five a.m. Christmas morning to be precise."
"How old are you?"
"Old enough for this."
"Mmmmm. Hey, come back."
"No, you come on. Let's go see what Santa brought you."
"What's this all about? I thought you hated Christmas."
"I do. But you seem to have been an awful good boy. Look at this stack of presents."
"Lex ... you really shouldn't have ..."
"Don't thank me - Santa, remember? Here, start with this one."
"Is this ... sable?"
"Beautiful, isn't it? Nice and warm for that silly frigid Arctic."
"I can't ..."
"I don't think Santa accepts returns. This one comes next."
"Keys?"
"Oh, so that explains the new convertible in the carriage house. It's a classic - '54, light blue. Santa has great taste. Maybe you'll let me drive it some time?"
"Lex. This is really too much."
"I completely disagree; you've earned it. Think of all the fun you've passed on, all the boys you haven't kissed all year. Oliver in particular has been just begging for it, but you've ignored him completely. You've been so good."
"You've been good too, now that I think about it ... Oliver can be tough to resist."
"Clearly Santa disagrees; not a single present for me. Oh well, being evil does have its consequences. I'll just enjoy watching you open the next one."
"Ok, this is more reasonable - a picture frame. ... Wait, is that a yacht?"
"The S.S. Warrior Angel. Appropriate; you have been an angel all year. What's next?"
"It's ... something in legalese, I can't ... hold on. The deed to a platinum mine?"
"Everyone needs one, really. Is that the last one? Oh no, wait, there's still your stocking. Nice and full, too. Here."
"A brochure for Metropolis Luxury Duplexes. And ... blank checks?"
"Oh, that Santa. He's spoiling you now."
"Funny, Santa's signature looks awfully like two L's."
"He's crafty like that. Hmm, looks like there might be one more surprise ... what's that over there hanging from the tree?"
"Lex."
"What?"
"I know what that is."
"Did you x-ray it? That's cheating."
"Stop. Anyone would know that blue box, and the white ribbon ... you can't do this. It's too much."
"I appreciate your gratitude, Clark. But really, your disbelief in Santa is very disappointing. Clearly he believes in you."
"Lex. Santa doesn't shop at Tiffany's."
"Maybe he does. Open it."
"No."
"Don't be so stubborn. You're ruining the fun."
"I am not. If you're going to give me a ring, you have to at least get down on your knee."
"I'm offended; it takes more than a phone call to get me on my knees. Now will you just open your present? It may not be what you think it is."
"Wait, there's a second box inside. Is this lead? ... Oh!"
"It's not exactly a diamond. I'm sorry about that; if you want one, you know you can have it."
"No, I don't want a diamond. But I don't understand, Lex. Why are you giving me your Kryptonite ring?"
"Because I don't want it anymore. You should be ... free to make your own choices."
"Lex."
"Yes?"
"I already have made my own choice."
"Have you?"
"I'm not here because you made me. I'm here because I want you."
"Mmm. Maybe I do get a Christmas present after all."
"Oh, you definitely do. There's just one problem."
"What's that?"
"It's sort of under my clothes."
"Well then, let's get to unwrapping it, shall we?"