Fic: Stray (SV, Clex, PG-13)
Title: Stray
Category: fic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~16k
Summary: Clark is getting past his summer in Metropolis, but trouble is capable of finding him anywhere, in any guise.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3, with several references to parts of season 2 and the first few episodes of season 3. Assume anything after 'Extinction' never happened. (Or will happen differently).
Warnings: Set after 'Extinction', episode 3.04. Ignores some canon events in order to smooth the road for the Clex pre-slash. Assume all events afterwards diverge from canon.
Notes: I used the dates the episodes aired as assistance in determining a 'timeline' for events in and prior to the story. Betaed and reposted here as of Dec 30, 2009. Banner created by the fabulous ctbn60. Thanks to Beta M and lonetread for fantastic, repeated beta services.
Prompt: Clark finds a fur-covered meteor rock that turns him into a wolf (or other furry animal). Story was originally here. Stray 1/2 at clexmas
October 17th, 2003. Friday.
The Smallville High Dance Committee consisted of three cheerleaders, their boyfriends, two drama club members, and a Korean exchange student who nodded his head a lot, bangs flopping against his forehead. The nine of them had arrived at the castle an hour after school let out for the afternoon, beating Clark and his produce delivery by half an hour.
"I can't believe you opened the castle for this." Clark's sideways smile was the brightest it had been in a while. His eyes moved back to his peers, as they stretched across the length of the ballroom with half a dozen measuring tapes.
"Only the ballroom, Clark," Lex murmured. He smoothed his left hand over his shirt before putting both hands in his pockets. Keeping his hands to himself had become a task of increasing difficulty. "This place has felt empty of late."
Clark flashed him a sympathetic look, but he remained silent long enough for Lex to have considered and discarded several topic changes. "You're welcome at the farm whenever you get lonely."
Lonely was not the word he would have used, but Lex let it pass. He turned toward the open doorway. "I appreciate the invitation."
They left the committee members to their work. His office was a pleasant sanctuary, quiet and well-ordered. Clark moved toward the furniture in front of the fireplace and came to a standstill, looking around in surprise. "You've redecorated."
Lex finished his trek across the office and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge. "I thought it was time. When Lucas took over the office earlier this year, I simply had his things removed and mine set to rights." He gestured toward the television. "With exceptions, of course. Helen's absence called for a more... radical change. A departure of the old ways."
Surprise, confusion, and more sympathy flashed across the boy's face. "If this is your idea of radical, Smallville's affected you more than you've let on." It wasn't a bad attempt at a joke, but Lex eyed Clark silently, enjoying the flush that crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks. "I mean, you didn't paint the entire room in purples or add a, uh, pole."
"In 1878, a captain in the Chicago Fire Department convinced his chief to let him make the necessary hole. He and his company were the laughingstock of the town until they realized this captain and his men were often first on the scene." Clark started to relax as Lex avoided the other possible reference. "Pole-dancing didn't become a fad until the 1960s."
The boy was so easy to rile. Gone was any trace of sympathy, replaced by silent chastisement. "Thanks for the history lesson, Lex," Clark said flatly.
Lex's smile refused to be hidden. "You're always welcome." He moved back to Clark's side long enough to hand him the second bottle of water before dropping on his new two-seater. "The change is not necessarily radical because of the choices implemented, but simply because those changes exist at all. Also, I didn't pass the task on to an employee. I chose this sofa, Clark. I walked into a store and sat down on every couch and sofa in their inventory."
"That is amazing," Clark teased. He sat on the matching sofa opposite Lex and leaned back against the dark brown upholstery. His eyes closed in relaxation, his enjoyment obvious. "This sofa is amazing, too."
"I'm glad you're impressed, since it took me three stores to find it." Clark's eyes flew open. "There are a lot of sofas in the world." He raised his bottle in toast to his find, pretending to ignore Clark's laughter.
* * *
October 18th, 2003. Saturday.
"This is not your typical Smallville costume party. A real Halloween party requires a real costume," Chloe insisted. She led the way up the sidewalk and stopped in front of a wide glass window proudly displaying the name 'Carvin Cutter's Costumes.'
Clark and Pete stopped behind her and shared a smile. Before Chloe had demanded they make the trip to Granville for costumes, Clark had been happy to let his mother make his. Then Chloe and Pete had cornered him at the Torch office after school, and he'd lost any control of his afternoon plans.
She gripped the handle and turned to fix them with a determined look. "Rule one: you will try on any costume I throw at you. Rule two: no sheet-ghosts. Rule three-"
Pete spoke over her, drowning out her own words as he put a hand over hers and opened the door. "'Get Chloe's approval before buying anything.' You know, Chloe, this'll go a lot faster if we can actually see the costumes."
"Fine," she snapped. "Pick whatever you want. You can both be the horse's rear-end for all I care."
Clark put a hand on her back and guided her under Pete's arm before holding the door and waving Pete through. "We'll do our best not to embarrass you." Anything else he might have said died in his throat as he stepped in after them and got a look at what a real costume shop had to offer.
"Wow," Pete said succinctly. Clark's mouth opened in wordless agreement. They lifted their chins as one to get a look at the second floor balcony. The building hadn't seemed quite so big on the outside, but inside they could see it was easily three times the size of the Talon. Bulging racks of costumes and accessories crushed the walkways into narrow, shadowy lanes between them.
There was an exceptionally bright display holding masquerade masks, the kinds they would see on television during Mardi Gras or in the Phantom of the Opera's masked ball. Clark's attraction to the mix of bright and dark colors was immediate, but Chloe caught her charges by either arm and tugged them toward the curved staircase leading to the second floor.
"It's not that kind of dance, either," she informed him happily. Apparently, their awe was all that was required to lift her out of her snippy mood. "I know we're still shopping on a Smallville budget, and the discount costumes are up here."
The overhead lights were bright enough to reflect rows of sequins and beads, but the density of the costumes was such that the floors under almost all the racks were shadowed. Clark decided it had the kind of creepy atmosphere he expected for a Halloween shop.
"Look around, try to think outside the box of serial killers with bad masks and Dracula. And for crying out loud, stay away from anything that comes with a full-face mask." With that, Chloe disappeared between two of the racks, into the wilderness of the costumes. Clark used his x-ray vision to follow her skeleton for a few feet, before deciding there was a limited amount of trouble even she could find. He turned toward Pete, but found only empty space where his friend had been. On inspection, he found Pete's skeleton making its way around the row nearest the back wall.
Clark shrugged and took a look around at the costumes. There were a lot of dark colors; werewolves and ghouls, vampire capes and assorted cloaks. There were also sections of brightness: sheet-ghosts, of course, mixed in with striped prisoner costumes and orange pumpkins.
He gave a half-smile as he passed by a rather slutty-looking nurses costume, followed by a cat costume with a respectable amount of clothing. Igors and serial killers, clothes torn and bloodied for zombies. A slew of animal costumes, from penguins to what Clark swore was supposed to be an emu. He rounded the end of a rack and nearly ran into Chloe.
"Find anything?" she asked. She'd already found several costumes.
Lying would have been pointless, as his hands were completely empty. "Not yet."
"You're supposed to be finding a costume," she reminded him. She set her own selection down on an empty chair half-hidden against the wall, and then set to work. Clark said nothing as she bypassed clothes meant for Frankenstein's monster; a Dracula's Bride set; complete with fake teeth; and a set of Jedi robes.
"How about this?" she asked, pulling a costume out by the hanger. There were several pieces, the largest by far being a furry cape topped with what Clark sincerely hoped was a fake wolf's head. The rest of the costume seemed to be little more than a loincloth and a bracelet, made with leather thongs, rock, and fur.
Clark reached a hand out to the cape and ended up with the bracelet in his grip. The amulet that served as a centerpiece was hard as a rock and warm to the touch. The fur that covered it shimmered in the overhead lights, making it look as if it were glowing. It felt funny against his palm, almost ticklish. Not painful, though, and he didn't feel the sudden urge to run away to Metropolis again.
"It's a furry rock." Clark let it drop, unsettled by the feel of it in his hand. "And an ugly furry costume."
"You could be a druid. Or a Native American shaman." She tossed the cloak over his head, and Clark winced as the teeth of the upper jaw came to rest against his forehead. He was lucky it hadn't broken.
"This isn't very politically correct," he pointed out.
"Whatever," she sniped. "Don't forget this." She grabbed his arm and slid the accompanying bracelet over his hand and up his arm. The furry amulet rested against the inside of his forearm. "I like it."
"I'd freeze in this," he objected. He made no reference to her wanting him to walk around half-naked. Their friendship hadn't mended to that point, yet. He took the cloak off and put it back over the hanger. He was going to say more, get the bracelet off, but then he was caught by the glassy stare of the cloak-wolf's eyes.
Distantly, he heard Chloe say something, but he couldn't reply. His vocal chords weren't working properly. Nothing was.
* * *
"Looking good!" Pete called.
Chloe curtsied in her princess costume, and did a spin in front of the mirror between the fitting rooms. "Isn't it great? You couldn't find something like this in Smallville."
"And do I pass muster, your highness?" Pete gave a low, awkward bow. The knight costume was a good complement to Chloe's Renaissance dress, though the top wasn't the right size for Pete. He had to hold one hand to his chest to make sure the armor didn't slide up his neck.
Chloe bit back a laugh. "You do, kind sir." She turned back to the mirror and took in the picture they made. "Now, we just need Clark to dress up with us, and we'll have a theme." She looked around, but the other costumes hid Clark from her view. "You find Clark and I'll see what we have in the way of dragons."
Pete's surprise was sweet. "You don't want to dress him up as a prince?"
Her laugh was harsh, but couldn't hold it back. She did better at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. "Please. Any princess worth her tiara will go for the hero who won't disappear when it comes time for the ball."
"So, where is Clark?" Pete asked, dodging her implication.
"I don't know," she said, letting him off the hook. "I left him over by the animal suits."
"Do you hear that?" Pete asked, his head tilting suddenly.
"Hear wha-" 'That' was a soft whimpering. Chloe took a cautious step in the direction it was coming from and felt her heart stick in her throat. "That's where I left Clark."
"Is he over there? This isn't funny, man," Pete called, pulling the plastic sword out of its scabbard. He tried to step in front of her, but Chloe refused to cower. Princess costume or not, she wasn't anyone's damsel in distress.
Together, they crept around the end of a rack and started up the aisle. The light directly overhead was dim, and Chloe hoped it was just an old bulb that had blown. On the floor, there was a mass that looked more animal than human, but Chloe called Clark's name anyway.
The figure shifted and stretched out, revealing that it definitely wasn't human. It whimpered again and stepped toward them, eyes shining in the dark. Glowing, in fact, as there wasn't enough light at that level to be a reflection.
"Oh, god." Chloe backed into Pete, and they toppled backwards together in a clatter of armor and a pool of chiffon. The wolf whined low in its throat before it dipped its head, turned away, and sped into the racks. They stayed frozen by silent agreement. After a few minutes, when it hadn't returned, Chloe rolled off of Pete and sat heavily beside him. "See. No Clark, while you and I were facing down the Big Bad Wolf."
Pete's laugh was shaky. "Lot of help I was, though." He got to his feet and then offered Chloe a hand up.
"You broke my fall." She smiled at him, though it was weak. "And you were here. It's better than being scared alone, I think." She straightened up the costume. "Come on. Let's get changed, find Clark, and get out of here. Assuming the wolf hasn't gotten to him."
"Clark can take care of himself." The words were too shaken to be believable.
Chloe nodded, but she made no move toward the dressing room. "Pete... was that wolf carrying Clark's clothes in its mouth?"
* * *
His speed was still there, whether he was running on four legs or two. Four legs actually seemed to be faster, though Clark couldn't accurately judge if his speed had increased, or if the change in perspective only made it seem that way. It was unlikely he'd have a chance to test the theory, though.
Downstairs, there were more people than had been there when they'd arrived, and Clark dodged them as the bitter scent returned, magnified by the number of people. Fear. He took advantage of customers entering the shop to disappear out the door. He hoped Chloe and Pete didn't worry when they realized he was no longer in the shop.
It was instinct that led Clark away from the main thoroughfare and onto some side streets. He'd hesitated when he passed Chloe's car, but he didn't think she'd appreciate him waiting for her and Pete in his current form. Not until he could communicate with them.
His color vision was distorted, but Clark could still read. Finding the road to Smallville was a matter of a few minutes. From there, it was a quick run to and down the main street. He slowed down several fields away from the farm. His father wasn't likely to shoot on sight, other than a warning shot, but it came back down to the problem of communicating.
Movement to his right alerted Clark to the fact that he wasn't alone. There was a group of cats a hundred yards to the side, pulling up around him in a loose formation. A chill ran down Clark's back. The presence of his speed seemed a good sign that he had all his powers, which meant cats couldn't hurt him, but there was something unnerving about the way they watched him.
He sat down, and watched as his pursuers sat down as well. They stood when he stood, and began walking when he did, though their path angled toward him instead of running parallel.
Ridiculous. He was letting cats creep him out. Clark dropped his clothes from his mouth and moved towards the cats, trying to remember what dogs did to show aggression. He growled, baring his teeth.
Instead of running, the cats hissed back, their fur rising as they approached. Worse than their reaction was the feeling that grew as he approached. Not just dread, but a too-familiar weakness and pain. One of the cats turned its head, and the afternoon sun made its eyes shine green.
Clark turned away, from the cats and the farm both, and ran. It took few yards of extra distance and a few seconds to recover before his superspeed returned, but when it did, he left the cats far behind.
* * *
Jonathon was over two hours late for lunch when he finally returned from the field. Alerted by the sound of his boots on the steps, Martha fetched the leftovers from the oven and fixed his plate. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as she was setting his plate down. "Where's Clark?"
"Shopping," she answered. She waited while he took a bite of steak, then moved back to the sink when he looked at her questioningly.
"Shopping for what? Don't tell me the boy needs more school clothes already."
She ignored his half-hearted grumble as she poured him a mug of coffee and took the seat across from him at the little table. "He's in Granville, finding a costume for the dance this Friday."
The only thing that stopped Jonathon from voicing an immediate protest at the prospect was the food in his mouth. Martha crossed her arms on the table and gave her husband a determined look.
"I can't begin to tell you how proud I was of you for accepting Lex's offer, and for agreeing to call him family." She reached out for his hand, and he wove his fingers in between hers, his expression going from annoyed to suspicious.
He swallowed his food. "I sense a 'but'." He picked up his mug and took a drink.
"We've seen a lot of changes in Clark. His abilities, his attitude." Her husband was looking at her with an amazing amount of patience, given the beginning of the conversation, and she smiled at him proudly. "We haven't always handled his secrets the best we could, but we've learned. We've adapted."
"Is he getting a new power?" he asked, concerned. "Should he be in town if something else is cropping up?"
She shook her head and forced herself to present the same calm she wanted Jonathon to feel. "It's nothing like that," she assured him. There was a possibility it was a power, and not what she suspected, but Clark would have surely gone to them if that was the case. "I spoke to Lana. Clark has apparently made it clear that friendship is the closest they'll ever get again."
"Is that what this is about?" Jonathon stared at her for a moment longer before chuckling. He pulled his hand away in order to cut up his steak. "You had me worried, Martha. So he's having second thoughts about his first love. He'll like other girls."
"He didn't stay for us, Jonathon. He's not staying for Lana. I think he's staying in Smallville for Lex." She waited for his response, but his expression never moved beyond expectancy. Sometimes, the man she married could be so dense. "I don't know that there will other be another girl."
His fork clattered against the plate. "You think our son is-"
* * *
Lex picked his cell phone up as the symphonic ring tone reached its crescendo. He checked the number before accepting the call. "Hello, Clark."
There was a pause, then a light clearing of throat. "Not quite, Lex."
"Mrs. Kent. To what do I owe this pleasure?" He left the penthouse office behind and returned to the kitchen, where his dinner was still waiting for him.
"Have you heard from Clark today?" she asked. Her tone was carefully controlled, but Lex could hear the edge of worry in it.
"No, not today. He and I spoke yesterday afternoon, then he left to return to the farm. He did make it home, didn't he?" If Clark hadn't made it home... Lex had heard enough about the events during his absence to know to worry. Hell, he'd been around Smallville long enough to panic.
"He did, thank you, Lex. I'm sorry for calling out of the blue." Her pretense of composure was more worrying than if she'd broken down or admitted to bad news.
Lex tapped a finger on the counter, and forced his tone to echo hers. "Is everything okay?"
"It's fine," she said lightly. "I'll have Clark give you a call when he gets back from his shopping trip."
"Thank you. I look forward to his call," Lex said smoothly. He waited for her to hang up on her end before dialing the number for the mansion. "What time did Martha Kent call?"
"Just a few minutes ago, Mr. Luthor. As instructed, I gave her the number for your mobile when she refused to wait for the call to be transferred to the penthouse. Did the lady reach you?"
"She did, thank you. Alert the staff to my return this evening. Have a meal waiting. I'll likely be in Smallville for the remainder of the weekend." Or until he had rooted out the cause of Martha Kent's worry. He hung up and left his uneaten dinner for the staff to dispose of.
* * *
"Are you sure his parents aren't mad at us?" Chloe asked. She and Pete had spent half an hour searching the costume shop before Carvin Cutter himself had shown up and shooed them off the premises. They'd found Clark's shoes and a sock, but no sign of the boy. Or the wolf.
"Mrs. Kent was cool. There weren't-" Any meteor rocks, he didn't finish. He shot her a look. "She said she didn't think it was him running away again. Probably just a normal Clark disappearance. We'll probably get back to Smallville to find out Lana has a new boyfriend and Clark hitch-hiked back to spy on 'em."
Chloe's answering laughter was bitter, and Pete barely resisted the urge to press into the passenger seat. It's not like he could sink all the way through the upholstery and disappear, anyway. He wasn't that lucky.
"I'm amazed sometimes that Clark manages to attend school. It's like all the drama he gets caught up in waits for the last bell to ring." She accelerated to get around a semi, and the fear clawing in Pete's chest kept him silent.
They swung back into the right-most lane and Pete looked back to see the semi growing smaller as they sped away from it. He refused to look at the speedometer. "So, we check on Lana first, and then what?"
"Then Lex," she said, full of certainty. "If something's going on in Smallville, it's either happening around Lana, Lex, or the Kents, and they were fine when you called."
"Right." His right hand gripped tightly around the arm rest. "Do you think maybe it's a good idea that we get there in one piece?"
* * *
He couldn't get back to the farm. Every time he tried to approach it from another direction, he found cats. There were at least a dozen of them, fast, sneaky, and after him personally, or so it seemed. He'd worried they were surrounding the farm on purpose, but they kept him from other places, like the school and the Talon.
More frightening than the kryptonite they seemed to carry was the way they were targeting him. They moved like they were part of a hive mind, and Clark couldn't think of anything scarier than smart, psychic cats.
He was going to be clawed to death, an event that wasn't surprising by Smallville standards. Yesterday, Clark would have told anyone who asked that he'd never feared the cat population of Smallville before. The warning would have been nice.
On a circuit around the outer edge of the town's limits, Clark's nose picked up a new odor. He liked the heightened sense of smell he had as a wolf. It made avoiding the cats easier, once he'd learned their smell. The new scent was more familiar, safe in a way he and his senses couldn't identify until he'd wiggled into the bushes at the edge of the road and come nose to nose with a puppy.
The pup's eyes shone in the dim evening light. Clark felt his body shift again, but the change was shorter than the last time, a lowering of his body to the ground. The pup yipped at Clark and licked at him eagerly until Clark mimicked the gesture.
It had a long scratch down its side and it was frightened, but a hasty sweep of x-ray vision showed that it was otherwise okay. But its blood smelled strongly, masking the approach of the cat until it was upon them. All Clark saw was a flash of green eyes before its claws took a chunk out of Clark's hide.
He yipped at the flare of pain, the burning agony crept down his foreleg even as Clark clumsily backed toward the road, slower- too slow- than he wanted to move. The puppy moved with him, barely protected by Clark's furry body.
Like a nightmare, the tabby crept closer, its face split in a feral grin. He stood on shaky legs and growled, trying for intimidation. Headlights moved over them as a car rounded the curve in the distance. Clark darted toward the puppy, using his mouth to pick it up by the scruff before fleeing toward the car.
The cat stalked them closely, dragging at Clark's strength and speed. It waited until the car was almost upon them before going for Clark's legs again. He stumbled into the path of the car and it swerved, tires squealing against the pavement. The cat pounced and Clark dropped the pup as he rolled to intercept the beast.
He managed to toss it several feet back, but like the meteor-affected people Clark had fought, its changes seemed to include extra strength and durability. It was back in an instant, and no matter how hard Clark tried to throw it away, it returned.
"What-?" There was a shape in the darkness, unrecognizable at first as it picked the cat up by the scruff of its neck. There was a hiss as the cat twisted and attacked Clark's savior. There was a curse. This time, when the cat was released, it ran away.
There was something familiar about the voice and the shadowy form.
* * *
Jonathon loved his wife and her apple pie, but her tendency to feed people when she was worried was going to catch up with him some day.
Pete apparently agreed, as he spread a bit more apple filling over his plate instead of taking a bite. "If he's back in Metropolis, what are we gonna do?" Pete asked.
Jonathon frowned. It was impossible to ignore the boy when there was nothing else in the kitchen to distract him. He didn't want to think about tracking his son down again. The memory of Jor-El's power coursing through him, the resulting weakness he'd felt in its absence, was mad worse for the injuries he'd sustained.
"He's not," Martha said firmly. Jonathon reached over to put a hand on her shoulder, glad she was denying that possibility as well. "Chloe's probably right. Clark just felt something was wrong in Smallville, and he came back to stop it."
"But there's nothing wrong," Pete said agitatedly, rising.
Jonathon reached over to push him gently back into his seat. "Nothing we've seen or heard, but Clark has always known how to find trouble, even when no one else knew it existed." How long had Pete remained oblivious before the spaceship's discovery had forced Clark to tell him?
He didn't want to think about Clark's powers and origins being revealed. Morgan Edge had come too close and it had almost cost their son. The possibility was too real that others had noticed, that Clark could be followed and threatened and stolen from them.
"What if the wolf wasn't a threat?" Martha asked, her tone one that made it clear she was questioning her own sanity.
"What?" Pete asked around a mouthful of food.
Her hands twisted a dish towel and her voice shook, but her eyes were steady. "It didn't move to hurt you, and it's unlikely a wolf scared Clark away. The fact that it was there with his clothes might mean... Well. It might mean the wolf was Clark. Or he was the wolf."
There was a heavy silence, one that Jonathon couldn't bring himself to break until Martha's gaze threatened to turn into a glare. "You think our son turned into a wolf and... what, went off to join a pack?"
"It depends on how much control he has over it. Pete said it didn't hurt them, or any of the other people it ran past as it left the store." She folded the towel and set it aside. Jonathon recognized her determined expression. "If he doesn't come home soon, I think we need to go out and look for him. And we need to widen our scope when we do."
There wasn't a lot Jonathon could say to that, not when Martha was so set on it. He nodded. "Okay. Let's figure out our plan of action. What areas do we want to cover first?"
To himself, he wondered what was next. First Martha tried to tell him their son was gay, then that he's a wolf. Next, she'd be telling him Clark was actually a human all along, and the powers were as much a phase as liking girls had been.
* * *
Lex pulled up in front of the mansion and got out of the car. He pushed the seat forward. "Come on. We're home." Two furry heads lifted to look at him, but neither the mother nor her pup budged. "You can't sit in the car all night."
They'd been easier to get into the car, though they'd both moved stiffly. Worried, Lex braced his knee on the edge of the driver's seat and reached in for the pup. It whimpered softly, but neither dog bit at him as he lifted it out. The wound on its side was dirty and should be seen by a vet.
He ignored the mother as he stood up and moved toward the mansion. After a moment, it saw fit to get itself out of the car and follow him. Enrique opened the mansion door before Lex even attempted to knock, and he strode past the long-time retainer with what dignity he could manage, being dirty and carrying an even dirtier dog.
"I'm glad to see you've arrived, sir."
"See what type of veterinary services are offered in Smallville, and then get someone here." The bigger dog trotted past him and down the hall. The pup wiggled, and then followed once Lex had put it down. Lex ignored his own state of disarray,which was easy in the face of Enrique's stoicism. "Bring a set of clean clothes to the first floor study. Preferably something from the back of the closet. And set up one of the bathrooms for dog grooming."
The dogs had disappeared. Lex followed where he had last seen them and when he caught up with the pair, they were both seated in front of the door to the room he'd chosen for entertaining them.
"Smart, aren't you?" Lex said as he opened the door. "Don't get too cozy. Enrique is going to see about getting you a vet and a bath, not necessarily in that order."
He tossed his coat over the back of a chair. The dark-paneled room housed new furniture, all chosen during his shopping trip to Smallville's furniture stores. The leather chairs matched the sofas he'd had placed in his office, and the end tables had been chosen to go with the cherry hardwood paneling. Like most other rooms in the castle, it came complete with a fireplace and a thick rug in front of it.
The mother dog moved toward the sofas, then bypassed them to make a circuit around the room, her whelp following. She ended up back at the fireplace, and the two laid down together.
Lex unbuttoned his ruined shirt and left it overtop his coat. His undershirt wasn't a decent barrier against the chill of the room, but Enrique thankfully chose that moment to knock on the door and enter. "Your clothes."
"Thank you, Enrique. Put them on my desk. The vet?"
"There are no practices open at this hour on a Saturday in Smallville. There was a doctor in Metropolis, however, who agreed to drive in this evening. Was there anything else, Mr. Luthor?"
Lex sat next to the dogs and inspected the pups side again. He could at least start cleaning it with water while they waited. He tried to inspect the mother, but she shifted away from him. "A bowl of water. Has there has been a call from the Kents?"
Enrique was already halfway to the door. "There's been no contact from the Kents. Would you like me to send in someone to assist you?"
"I've got it." Lex smiled as the pup licked the back of his hand. "Bring something for them to eat, too."
* * *
"Kent Farms," Martha answered. Pete and Jonathon watched on hopefully.
The voice that responded wasn't Clark's. "Hello, Mrs. Kent."
She tamped down on her disappointment and forced a smile on her face. "Lex. How can I help you?"
"I was just calling to let you know I've arrived back in Smallville." There was a slight pause and a sound that may have been a dog bark. "I thought it would save Clark time later, if you knew where to find me."
"That's very thoughtful." The barking came again, this time sounding more insistent. "Is that a... dog?" She pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed suddenly by hope and certainty.
Lex chuckled into the phone. "It is. Two of them, in fact. I found the pair on the outskirts of Smallville. Bohemian shepherds, looks like mother and son, though... Oh, well. Father and son, maybe." He sounded somewhat discomfited, but he didn't offer how he'd figured out the difference in gender.
"Where did you find them?" she asked. Pete and Jonathon sat up a little straighter at her tone, and there was another pause on Lex's end. She cleared her throat, and tried to eliminate anything suspicious from her voice. "Jonathon and I would love to help you find the proper owners."
"Of course, Mrs. Kent. I found them near County Farm Road, near the junction for Granville and Metropolis. There was a cat there... it looked like it was attacking them." There was more barking, clearer this time, and Lex's laughter sounded surprised. Genuine. "I think someone else wants to speak with you."
"Is that the... father?" The men in her kitchen frowned in confusion, but Lex's agreement decided her. "I'll be over shortly, Lex."
His laughter vanished. "You don't have to do that, Martha. The vet won't even arrive for a couple more hours."
"Please, I'd like to help." She hesitated, aware that her insistence would be suspicious. She forced herself to offer, "Unless it's inconvenient for you."
"Not at all," he replied immediately. "Would you like me to send a car?"
Jonathon wouldn't like it, but he would also need the truck to go looking for Clark. "Yes, please. That would be lovely."
"It will be there shortly." Another pause heavy with silence. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. Good-bye."
"Bye, Lex." She hung up the phone and settled back in her seat before addressing her husband and Pete. "Lex rescued two dogs. One was injured. The other was protecting it."
By the look on Jonathon and Pete's faces, she was the only one who understood the significance of that. "Dogs, Martha. Not wolves," Jonathon said softly. He was following her logic, at least, but it wasn't enough.
She sighed. "Call it a mother's instinct, Jonathon. That was my son barking into the phone." She pushed on in the face of his skepticism. "We've been thinking about searching for a wolf, but Pete admitted it was dark in the store and that they only saw the 'wolf' for a few seconds. He's just as likely to be a dog."
He didn't look swayed, but he did offer, "I'll drive you over."
"Actually, Lex is sending a car for me. I'd like it if you'd look for Clark along the other routes into Smallville. Starting with the County Farm road junction." If she was wrong, he could be anywhere.
"Am I looking for a dog or a boy?" He stood, and she knew he'd be looking for both, whether he believed in her theory or not. "Pete, would you like to help me, or are you going back into town to help Chloe?"
"She's just sitting at the Talon with Lana, waiting for Clark to show." Pete rose as well. "I'll go with you. Two pair of eyes are better than one."
"And be careful. Lex said he had a bit of a problem dealing with a cat."
Jonathon's expression was a priceless combination of surprised and skeptical. "Cats?"
"Anything's possible in Smallville. I love you, you wonderful man." She pulled Jonathon down to press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving. "Leave a note for Clark, in case he comes home?"
"I'll do it. I have a message from Chloe," Pete offered. "She's picked out his costume for Halloween; he's not just in the doghouse with her, she has plans to buy him a leash and a tracking device."
* * *
There was something to be said for canine hearing. Clark had recognized his mother's voice even before Lex had said 'Mrs. Kent.' By the time Lex concluded the call, Clark's tail was thumping against the floor in front of Lex's desk hard enough to put a dent and several cracks in the marble. He laid over it quickly, but Lex's sharp gaze stayed on him long enough for Clark to worry.
Eventually, Lex nodded. "Looks like the cat didn't hurt you after all." A maid entered through a side door, carrying a bowl of water. She looked inquiringly at Lex, who pointed toward the fireplace. Like a character out of a bad historical romance, she set the bowl down and stayed bent over, her head turned to give Lex a coy look. Her breasts nearly fell out of the top of her uniform.
The puppy ambled over to investigate and Lex joined it at the maid's side. The smile he turned on the maid fell under the classification of a leer, one that died as a low, menacing growl filled the air. The sound abruptly stopped when Clark realized it was coming from him.
It served its purpose, however. The maid was quickly excused, and Lex's attention was once more squarely on Clark. A very large part of Clark wanted to move to join Lex and the puppy, but to do so would have left the damaged floor open to scrutiny. Clark wasn't nearly lucky enough for Lex to miss so sizeable a demonstration of power.
In this form, it wasn't very likely that Lex would connect anything Clark did back to the things he did when he was a boy- or an alien. But Clark wasn't exactly in control of his changes, and he couldn't predict when he'd finally change back - or that he would at all - but Clark was trying to stay positive.
Lex picked the pup up, and it responded to Lex's care with gratitude and warmth, quivering with excitement. Even when Lex's fingers grazed the claw mark on its side, it did little more than flinch and whimper quietly.
"I'm going to clean this wound," Lex said, his voice filling the stillness of the room. "The veterinarian will take care of it when he arrives, but I'd like you to be cleaned before then. Before Martha Kent arrives, if at all possible. I'd hate for her to think my hospitality lacking."
He turned his head and his gaze caught Clark's again. "Both of you. It would be too much to ask that you bathe yourself and you're too big for me to wrestle you into a tub. I should have had Enrique take care of you."
His eyes returned to the pup, his hands moving easily from administering aid to simple petting. In return, the puppy relaxed into his lap, its eyes closing.
"I don't make a habit of rescuing strays, even when the payoffs are so pleasant." He was looking at the door through which the maid had exited, but Clark would have wagered his meager allowance that Lex's attention was really on him and nothing else. "It's not something I would ever have done before arriving in Smallville, but this town has a way of changing people."
He flashed his teeth in a vague facsimile of a smile. Clark's hackles rose.
Then Lex's expression smoothed out as his attention turned toward the glass doors that opened onto the back gardens. "Storm's coming in." As if urged on by Lex's observation, the wind outside picked up.
The rear grounds stood out in stark relief for a moment, but Clark's eyes quickly caught and were held by the green sheen of feline irises at the edge of the yard, where the grass began to grow wild.
The cats had caught up with them.
* * *
Chloe swallowed the dregs of her coffee just as Lana was putting a fresh cup down in front of her. "Maybe you should call," Lana suggested kindly.
"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "May I use your phone?"
"Of course." Lana moved away to talk to one of the waitresses, and Chloe stood up, coffee in hand.
What Chloe had found was that they were half right. Lana didn't have a new boyfriend, but Lex was back in town, and judging by the dirt and spots of blood on his clothes, there had been trouble. The stray dogs in his car were cute and definitely in need of a rescue, but it was doubtful that Clark had anything to do with them.
When Chloe had asked, Lex had claimed he hadn't seen Clark since Friday. He had been in Metropolis when they'd left that morning for Grandville, and she thought he was probably telling the truth.
"Kent Farms." Chloe had hoped for Martha Kent, but her husband would do. It would have been even better if Clark himself had answered.
"Hi, Mr. Kent. Has Clark come home yet?" It was better to get right to the point.
"Not yet. No sign of him on your end?" He didn't sound hopeful.
She flopped down in the chair behind the desk. "No. Lex Luthor came through half an hour ago, looking a little rough, but he hadn't seen Clark either."
"Martha's on her way over to the Luthor place now," Mr. Kent said. "He said something about rescuing dogs."
"He had them in the car when he passed through here. Beware the cats, I guess." She paused, a thought occurring to her. "You don't suppose the cats of Smallville are... changing, do you?"
Mr. Kent's laugh was rough and humorless. "I hope not. Though, this is Smallville, as Martha reminded me not too long ago."
Stray 2/2
Category: fic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~16k
Summary: Clark is getting past his summer in Metropolis, but trouble is capable of finding him anywhere, in any guise.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3, with several references to parts of season 2 and the first few episodes of season 3. Assume anything after 'Extinction' never happened. (Or will happen differently).
Warnings: Set after 'Extinction', episode 3.04. Ignores some canon events in order to smooth the road for the Clex pre-slash. Assume all events afterwards diverge from canon.
Notes: I used the dates the episodes aired as assistance in determining a 'timeline' for events in and prior to the story. Betaed and reposted here as of Dec 30, 2009. Banner created by the fabulous ctbn60. Thanks to Beta M and lonetread for fantastic, repeated beta services.
Prompt: Clark finds a fur-covered meteor rock that turns him into a wolf (or other furry animal). Story was originally here. Stray 1/2 at clexmas
October 17th, 2003. Friday.
The Smallville High Dance Committee consisted of three cheerleaders, their boyfriends, two drama club members, and a Korean exchange student who nodded his head a lot, bangs flopping against his forehead. The nine of them had arrived at the castle an hour after school let out for the afternoon, beating Clark and his produce delivery by half an hour.
"I can't believe you opened the castle for this." Clark's sideways smile was the brightest it had been in a while. His eyes moved back to his peers, as they stretched across the length of the ballroom with half a dozen measuring tapes.
"Only the ballroom, Clark," Lex murmured. He smoothed his left hand over his shirt before putting both hands in his pockets. Keeping his hands to himself had become a task of increasing difficulty. "This place has felt empty of late."
Clark flashed him a sympathetic look, but he remained silent long enough for Lex to have considered and discarded several topic changes. "You're welcome at the farm whenever you get lonely."
Lonely was not the word he would have used, but Lex let it pass. He turned toward the open doorway. "I appreciate the invitation."
They left the committee members to their work. His office was a pleasant sanctuary, quiet and well-ordered. Clark moved toward the furniture in front of the fireplace and came to a standstill, looking around in surprise. "You've redecorated."
Lex finished his trek across the office and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge. "I thought it was time. When Lucas took over the office earlier this year, I simply had his things removed and mine set to rights." He gestured toward the television. "With exceptions, of course. Helen's absence called for a more... radical change. A departure of the old ways."
Surprise, confusion, and more sympathy flashed across the boy's face. "If this is your idea of radical, Smallville's affected you more than you've let on." It wasn't a bad attempt at a joke, but Lex eyed Clark silently, enjoying the flush that crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks. "I mean, you didn't paint the entire room in purples or add a, uh, pole."
"In 1878, a captain in the Chicago Fire Department convinced his chief to let him make the necessary hole. He and his company were the laughingstock of the town until they realized this captain and his men were often first on the scene." Clark started to relax as Lex avoided the other possible reference. "Pole-dancing didn't become a fad until the 1960s."
The boy was so easy to rile. Gone was any trace of sympathy, replaced by silent chastisement. "Thanks for the history lesson, Lex," Clark said flatly.
Lex's smile refused to be hidden. "You're always welcome." He moved back to Clark's side long enough to hand him the second bottle of water before dropping on his new two-seater. "The change is not necessarily radical because of the choices implemented, but simply because those changes exist at all. Also, I didn't pass the task on to an employee. I chose this sofa, Clark. I walked into a store and sat down on every couch and sofa in their inventory."
"That is amazing," Clark teased. He sat on the matching sofa opposite Lex and leaned back against the dark brown upholstery. His eyes closed in relaxation, his enjoyment obvious. "This sofa is amazing, too."
"I'm glad you're impressed, since it took me three stores to find it." Clark's eyes flew open. "There are a lot of sofas in the world." He raised his bottle in toast to his find, pretending to ignore Clark's laughter.
* * *
October 18th, 2003. Saturday.
"This is not your typical Smallville costume party. A real Halloween party requires a real costume," Chloe insisted. She led the way up the sidewalk and stopped in front of a wide glass window proudly displaying the name 'Carvin Cutter's Costumes.'
Clark and Pete stopped behind her and shared a smile. Before Chloe had demanded they make the trip to Granville for costumes, Clark had been happy to let his mother make his. Then Chloe and Pete had cornered him at the Torch office after school, and he'd lost any control of his afternoon plans.
She gripped the handle and turned to fix them with a determined look. "Rule one: you will try on any costume I throw at you. Rule two: no sheet-ghosts. Rule three-"
Pete spoke over her, drowning out her own words as he put a hand over hers and opened the door. "'Get Chloe's approval before buying anything.' You know, Chloe, this'll go a lot faster if we can actually see the costumes."
"Fine," she snapped. "Pick whatever you want. You can both be the horse's rear-end for all I care."
Clark put a hand on her back and guided her under Pete's arm before holding the door and waving Pete through. "We'll do our best not to embarrass you." Anything else he might have said died in his throat as he stepped in after them and got a look at what a real costume shop had to offer.
"Wow," Pete said succinctly. Clark's mouth opened in wordless agreement. They lifted their chins as one to get a look at the second floor balcony. The building hadn't seemed quite so big on the outside, but inside they could see it was easily three times the size of the Talon. Bulging racks of costumes and accessories crushed the walkways into narrow, shadowy lanes between them.
There was an exceptionally bright display holding masquerade masks, the kinds they would see on television during Mardi Gras or in the Phantom of the Opera's masked ball. Clark's attraction to the mix of bright and dark colors was immediate, but Chloe caught her charges by either arm and tugged them toward the curved staircase leading to the second floor.
"It's not that kind of dance, either," she informed him happily. Apparently, their awe was all that was required to lift her out of her snippy mood. "I know we're still shopping on a Smallville budget, and the discount costumes are up here."
The overhead lights were bright enough to reflect rows of sequins and beads, but the density of the costumes was such that the floors under almost all the racks were shadowed. Clark decided it had the kind of creepy atmosphere he expected for a Halloween shop.
"Look around, try to think outside the box of serial killers with bad masks and Dracula. And for crying out loud, stay away from anything that comes with a full-face mask." With that, Chloe disappeared between two of the racks, into the wilderness of the costumes. Clark used his x-ray vision to follow her skeleton for a few feet, before deciding there was a limited amount of trouble even she could find. He turned toward Pete, but found only empty space where his friend had been. On inspection, he found Pete's skeleton making its way around the row nearest the back wall.
Clark shrugged and took a look around at the costumes. There were a lot of dark colors; werewolves and ghouls, vampire capes and assorted cloaks. There were also sections of brightness: sheet-ghosts, of course, mixed in with striped prisoner costumes and orange pumpkins.
He gave a half-smile as he passed by a rather slutty-looking nurses costume, followed by a cat costume with a respectable amount of clothing. Igors and serial killers, clothes torn and bloodied for zombies. A slew of animal costumes, from penguins to what Clark swore was supposed to be an emu. He rounded the end of a rack and nearly ran into Chloe.
"Find anything?" she asked. She'd already found several costumes.
Lying would have been pointless, as his hands were completely empty. "Not yet."
"You're supposed to be finding a costume," she reminded him. She set her own selection down on an empty chair half-hidden against the wall, and then set to work. Clark said nothing as she bypassed clothes meant for Frankenstein's monster; a Dracula's Bride set; complete with fake teeth; and a set of Jedi robes.
"How about this?" she asked, pulling a costume out by the hanger. There were several pieces, the largest by far being a furry cape topped with what Clark sincerely hoped was a fake wolf's head. The rest of the costume seemed to be little more than a loincloth and a bracelet, made with leather thongs, rock, and fur.
Clark reached a hand out to the cape and ended up with the bracelet in his grip. The amulet that served as a centerpiece was hard as a rock and warm to the touch. The fur that covered it shimmered in the overhead lights, making it look as if it were glowing. It felt funny against his palm, almost ticklish. Not painful, though, and he didn't feel the sudden urge to run away to Metropolis again.
"It's a furry rock." Clark let it drop, unsettled by the feel of it in his hand. "And an ugly furry costume."
"You could be a druid. Or a Native American shaman." She tossed the cloak over his head, and Clark winced as the teeth of the upper jaw came to rest against his forehead. He was lucky it hadn't broken.
"This isn't very politically correct," he pointed out.
"Whatever," she sniped. "Don't forget this." She grabbed his arm and slid the accompanying bracelet over his hand and up his arm. The furry amulet rested against the inside of his forearm. "I like it."
"I'd freeze in this," he objected. He made no reference to her wanting him to walk around half-naked. Their friendship hadn't mended to that point, yet. He took the cloak off and put it back over the hanger. He was going to say more, get the bracelet off, but then he was caught by the glassy stare of the cloak-wolf's eyes.
Distantly, he heard Chloe say something, but he couldn't reply. His vocal chords weren't working properly. Nothing was.
* * *
"Looking good!" Pete called.
Chloe curtsied in her princess costume, and did a spin in front of the mirror between the fitting rooms. "Isn't it great? You couldn't find something like this in Smallville."
"And do I pass muster, your highness?" Pete gave a low, awkward bow. The knight costume was a good complement to Chloe's Renaissance dress, though the top wasn't the right size for Pete. He had to hold one hand to his chest to make sure the armor didn't slide up his neck.
Chloe bit back a laugh. "You do, kind sir." She turned back to the mirror and took in the picture they made. "Now, we just need Clark to dress up with us, and we'll have a theme." She looked around, but the other costumes hid Clark from her view. "You find Clark and I'll see what we have in the way of dragons."
Pete's surprise was sweet. "You don't want to dress him up as a prince?"
Her laugh was harsh, but couldn't hold it back. She did better at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. "Please. Any princess worth her tiara will go for the hero who won't disappear when it comes time for the ball."
"So, where is Clark?" Pete asked, dodging her implication.
"I don't know," she said, letting him off the hook. "I left him over by the animal suits."
"Do you hear that?" Pete asked, his head tilting suddenly.
"Hear wha-" 'That' was a soft whimpering. Chloe took a cautious step in the direction it was coming from and felt her heart stick in her throat. "That's where I left Clark."
"Is he over there? This isn't funny, man," Pete called, pulling the plastic sword out of its scabbard. He tried to step in front of her, but Chloe refused to cower. Princess costume or not, she wasn't anyone's damsel in distress.
Together, they crept around the end of a rack and started up the aisle. The light directly overhead was dim, and Chloe hoped it was just an old bulb that had blown. On the floor, there was a mass that looked more animal than human, but Chloe called Clark's name anyway.
The figure shifted and stretched out, revealing that it definitely wasn't human. It whimpered again and stepped toward them, eyes shining in the dark. Glowing, in fact, as there wasn't enough light at that level to be a reflection.
"Oh, god." Chloe backed into Pete, and they toppled backwards together in a clatter of armor and a pool of chiffon. The wolf whined low in its throat before it dipped its head, turned away, and sped into the racks. They stayed frozen by silent agreement. After a few minutes, when it hadn't returned, Chloe rolled off of Pete and sat heavily beside him. "See. No Clark, while you and I were facing down the Big Bad Wolf."
Pete's laugh was shaky. "Lot of help I was, though." He got to his feet and then offered Chloe a hand up.
"You broke my fall." She smiled at him, though it was weak. "And you were here. It's better than being scared alone, I think." She straightened up the costume. "Come on. Let's get changed, find Clark, and get out of here. Assuming the wolf hasn't gotten to him."
"Clark can take care of himself." The words were too shaken to be believable.
Chloe nodded, but she made no move toward the dressing room. "Pete... was that wolf carrying Clark's clothes in its mouth?"
* * *
His speed was still there, whether he was running on four legs or two. Four legs actually seemed to be faster, though Clark couldn't accurately judge if his speed had increased, or if the change in perspective only made it seem that way. It was unlikely he'd have a chance to test the theory, though.
Downstairs, there were more people than had been there when they'd arrived, and Clark dodged them as the bitter scent returned, magnified by the number of people. Fear. He took advantage of customers entering the shop to disappear out the door. He hoped Chloe and Pete didn't worry when they realized he was no longer in the shop.
It was instinct that led Clark away from the main thoroughfare and onto some side streets. He'd hesitated when he passed Chloe's car, but he didn't think she'd appreciate him waiting for her and Pete in his current form. Not until he could communicate with them.
His color vision was distorted, but Clark could still read. Finding the road to Smallville was a matter of a few minutes. From there, it was a quick run to and down the main street. He slowed down several fields away from the farm. His father wasn't likely to shoot on sight, other than a warning shot, but it came back down to the problem of communicating.
Movement to his right alerted Clark to the fact that he wasn't alone. There was a group of cats a hundred yards to the side, pulling up around him in a loose formation. A chill ran down Clark's back. The presence of his speed seemed a good sign that he had all his powers, which meant cats couldn't hurt him, but there was something unnerving about the way they watched him.
He sat down, and watched as his pursuers sat down as well. They stood when he stood, and began walking when he did, though their path angled toward him instead of running parallel.
Ridiculous. He was letting cats creep him out. Clark dropped his clothes from his mouth and moved towards the cats, trying to remember what dogs did to show aggression. He growled, baring his teeth.
Instead of running, the cats hissed back, their fur rising as they approached. Worse than their reaction was the feeling that grew as he approached. Not just dread, but a too-familiar weakness and pain. One of the cats turned its head, and the afternoon sun made its eyes shine green.
Clark turned away, from the cats and the farm both, and ran. It took few yards of extra distance and a few seconds to recover before his superspeed returned, but when it did, he left the cats far behind.
* * *
Jonathon was over two hours late for lunch when he finally returned from the field. Alerted by the sound of his boots on the steps, Martha fetched the leftovers from the oven and fixed his plate. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as she was setting his plate down. "Where's Clark?"
"Shopping," she answered. She waited while he took a bite of steak, then moved back to the sink when he looked at her questioningly.
"Shopping for what? Don't tell me the boy needs more school clothes already."
She ignored his half-hearted grumble as she poured him a mug of coffee and took the seat across from him at the little table. "He's in Granville, finding a costume for the dance this Friday."
The only thing that stopped Jonathon from voicing an immediate protest at the prospect was the food in his mouth. Martha crossed her arms on the table and gave her husband a determined look.
"I can't begin to tell you how proud I was of you for accepting Lex's offer, and for agreeing to call him family." She reached out for his hand, and he wove his fingers in between hers, his expression going from annoyed to suspicious.
He swallowed his food. "I sense a 'but'." He picked up his mug and took a drink.
"We've seen a lot of changes in Clark. His abilities, his attitude." Her husband was looking at her with an amazing amount of patience, given the beginning of the conversation, and she smiled at him proudly. "We haven't always handled his secrets the best we could, but we've learned. We've adapted."
"Is he getting a new power?" he asked, concerned. "Should he be in town if something else is cropping up?"
She shook her head and forced herself to present the same calm she wanted Jonathon to feel. "It's nothing like that," she assured him. There was a possibility it was a power, and not what she suspected, but Clark would have surely gone to them if that was the case. "I spoke to Lana. Clark has apparently made it clear that friendship is the closest they'll ever get again."
"Is that what this is about?" Jonathon stared at her for a moment longer before chuckling. He pulled his hand away in order to cut up his steak. "You had me worried, Martha. So he's having second thoughts about his first love. He'll like other girls."
"He didn't stay for us, Jonathon. He's not staying for Lana. I think he's staying in Smallville for Lex." She waited for his response, but his expression never moved beyond expectancy. Sometimes, the man she married could be so dense. "I don't know that there will other be another girl."
His fork clattered against the plate. "You think our son is-"
* * *
Lex picked his cell phone up as the symphonic ring tone reached its crescendo. He checked the number before accepting the call. "Hello, Clark."
There was a pause, then a light clearing of throat. "Not quite, Lex."
"Mrs. Kent. To what do I owe this pleasure?" He left the penthouse office behind and returned to the kitchen, where his dinner was still waiting for him.
"Have you heard from Clark today?" she asked. Her tone was carefully controlled, but Lex could hear the edge of worry in it.
"No, not today. He and I spoke yesterday afternoon, then he left to return to the farm. He did make it home, didn't he?" If Clark hadn't made it home... Lex had heard enough about the events during his absence to know to worry. Hell, he'd been around Smallville long enough to panic.
"He did, thank you, Lex. I'm sorry for calling out of the blue." Her pretense of composure was more worrying than if she'd broken down or admitted to bad news.
Lex tapped a finger on the counter, and forced his tone to echo hers. "Is everything okay?"
"It's fine," she said lightly. "I'll have Clark give you a call when he gets back from his shopping trip."
"Thank you. I look forward to his call," Lex said smoothly. He waited for her to hang up on her end before dialing the number for the mansion. "What time did Martha Kent call?"
"Just a few minutes ago, Mr. Luthor. As instructed, I gave her the number for your mobile when she refused to wait for the call to be transferred to the penthouse. Did the lady reach you?"
"She did, thank you. Alert the staff to my return this evening. Have a meal waiting. I'll likely be in Smallville for the remainder of the weekend." Or until he had rooted out the cause of Martha Kent's worry. He hung up and left his uneaten dinner for the staff to dispose of.
* * *
"Are you sure his parents aren't mad at us?" Chloe asked. She and Pete had spent half an hour searching the costume shop before Carvin Cutter himself had shown up and shooed them off the premises. They'd found Clark's shoes and a sock, but no sign of the boy. Or the wolf.
"Mrs. Kent was cool. There weren't-" Any meteor rocks, he didn't finish. He shot her a look. "She said she didn't think it was him running away again. Probably just a normal Clark disappearance. We'll probably get back to Smallville to find out Lana has a new boyfriend and Clark hitch-hiked back to spy on 'em."
Chloe's answering laughter was bitter, and Pete barely resisted the urge to press into the passenger seat. It's not like he could sink all the way through the upholstery and disappear, anyway. He wasn't that lucky.
"I'm amazed sometimes that Clark manages to attend school. It's like all the drama he gets caught up in waits for the last bell to ring." She accelerated to get around a semi, and the fear clawing in Pete's chest kept him silent.
They swung back into the right-most lane and Pete looked back to see the semi growing smaller as they sped away from it. He refused to look at the speedometer. "So, we check on Lana first, and then what?"
"Then Lex," she said, full of certainty. "If something's going on in Smallville, it's either happening around Lana, Lex, or the Kents, and they were fine when you called."
"Right." His right hand gripped tightly around the arm rest. "Do you think maybe it's a good idea that we get there in one piece?"
* * *
He couldn't get back to the farm. Every time he tried to approach it from another direction, he found cats. There were at least a dozen of them, fast, sneaky, and after him personally, or so it seemed. He'd worried they were surrounding the farm on purpose, but they kept him from other places, like the school and the Talon.
More frightening than the kryptonite they seemed to carry was the way they were targeting him. They moved like they were part of a hive mind, and Clark couldn't think of anything scarier than smart, psychic cats.
He was going to be clawed to death, an event that wasn't surprising by Smallville standards. Yesterday, Clark would have told anyone who asked that he'd never feared the cat population of Smallville before. The warning would have been nice.
On a circuit around the outer edge of the town's limits, Clark's nose picked up a new odor. He liked the heightened sense of smell he had as a wolf. It made avoiding the cats easier, once he'd learned their smell. The new scent was more familiar, safe in a way he and his senses couldn't identify until he'd wiggled into the bushes at the edge of the road and come nose to nose with a puppy.
The pup's eyes shone in the dim evening light. Clark felt his body shift again, but the change was shorter than the last time, a lowering of his body to the ground. The pup yipped at Clark and licked at him eagerly until Clark mimicked the gesture.
It had a long scratch down its side and it was frightened, but a hasty sweep of x-ray vision showed that it was otherwise okay. But its blood smelled strongly, masking the approach of the cat until it was upon them. All Clark saw was a flash of green eyes before its claws took a chunk out of Clark's hide.
He yipped at the flare of pain, the burning agony crept down his foreleg even as Clark clumsily backed toward the road, slower- too slow- than he wanted to move. The puppy moved with him, barely protected by Clark's furry body.
Like a nightmare, the tabby crept closer, its face split in a feral grin. He stood on shaky legs and growled, trying for intimidation. Headlights moved over them as a car rounded the curve in the distance. Clark darted toward the puppy, using his mouth to pick it up by the scruff before fleeing toward the car.
The cat stalked them closely, dragging at Clark's strength and speed. It waited until the car was almost upon them before going for Clark's legs again. He stumbled into the path of the car and it swerved, tires squealing against the pavement. The cat pounced and Clark dropped the pup as he rolled to intercept the beast.
He managed to toss it several feet back, but like the meteor-affected people Clark had fought, its changes seemed to include extra strength and durability. It was back in an instant, and no matter how hard Clark tried to throw it away, it returned.
"What-?" There was a shape in the darkness, unrecognizable at first as it picked the cat up by the scruff of its neck. There was a hiss as the cat twisted and attacked Clark's savior. There was a curse. This time, when the cat was released, it ran away.
There was something familiar about the voice and the shadowy form.
* * *
Jonathon loved his wife and her apple pie, but her tendency to feed people when she was worried was going to catch up with him some day.
Pete apparently agreed, as he spread a bit more apple filling over his plate instead of taking a bite. "If he's back in Metropolis, what are we gonna do?" Pete asked.
Jonathon frowned. It was impossible to ignore the boy when there was nothing else in the kitchen to distract him. He didn't want to think about tracking his son down again. The memory of Jor-El's power coursing through him, the resulting weakness he'd felt in its absence, was mad worse for the injuries he'd sustained.
"He's not," Martha said firmly. Jonathon reached over to put a hand on her shoulder, glad she was denying that possibility as well. "Chloe's probably right. Clark just felt something was wrong in Smallville, and he came back to stop it."
"But there's nothing wrong," Pete said agitatedly, rising.
Jonathon reached over to push him gently back into his seat. "Nothing we've seen or heard, but Clark has always known how to find trouble, even when no one else knew it existed." How long had Pete remained oblivious before the spaceship's discovery had forced Clark to tell him?
He didn't want to think about Clark's powers and origins being revealed. Morgan Edge had come too close and it had almost cost their son. The possibility was too real that others had noticed, that Clark could be followed and threatened and stolen from them.
"What if the wolf wasn't a threat?" Martha asked, her tone one that made it clear she was questioning her own sanity.
"What?" Pete asked around a mouthful of food.
Her hands twisted a dish towel and her voice shook, but her eyes were steady. "It didn't move to hurt you, and it's unlikely a wolf scared Clark away. The fact that it was there with his clothes might mean... Well. It might mean the wolf was Clark. Or he was the wolf."
There was a heavy silence, one that Jonathon couldn't bring himself to break until Martha's gaze threatened to turn into a glare. "You think our son turned into a wolf and... what, went off to join a pack?"
"It depends on how much control he has over it. Pete said it didn't hurt them, or any of the other people it ran past as it left the store." She folded the towel and set it aside. Jonathon recognized her determined expression. "If he doesn't come home soon, I think we need to go out and look for him. And we need to widen our scope when we do."
There wasn't a lot Jonathon could say to that, not when Martha was so set on it. He nodded. "Okay. Let's figure out our plan of action. What areas do we want to cover first?"
To himself, he wondered what was next. First Martha tried to tell him their son was gay, then that he's a wolf. Next, she'd be telling him Clark was actually a human all along, and the powers were as much a phase as liking girls had been.
* * *
Lex pulled up in front of the mansion and got out of the car. He pushed the seat forward. "Come on. We're home." Two furry heads lifted to look at him, but neither the mother nor her pup budged. "You can't sit in the car all night."
They'd been easier to get into the car, though they'd both moved stiffly. Worried, Lex braced his knee on the edge of the driver's seat and reached in for the pup. It whimpered softly, but neither dog bit at him as he lifted it out. The wound on its side was dirty and should be seen by a vet.
He ignored the mother as he stood up and moved toward the mansion. After a moment, it saw fit to get itself out of the car and follow him. Enrique opened the mansion door before Lex even attempted to knock, and he strode past the long-time retainer with what dignity he could manage, being dirty and carrying an even dirtier dog.
"I'm glad to see you've arrived, sir."
"See what type of veterinary services are offered in Smallville, and then get someone here." The bigger dog trotted past him and down the hall. The pup wiggled, and then followed once Lex had put it down. Lex ignored his own state of disarray,which was easy in the face of Enrique's stoicism. "Bring a set of clean clothes to the first floor study. Preferably something from the back of the closet. And set up one of the bathrooms for dog grooming."
The dogs had disappeared. Lex followed where he had last seen them and when he caught up with the pair, they were both seated in front of the door to the room he'd chosen for entertaining them.
"Smart, aren't you?" Lex said as he opened the door. "Don't get too cozy. Enrique is going to see about getting you a vet and a bath, not necessarily in that order."
He tossed his coat over the back of a chair. The dark-paneled room housed new furniture, all chosen during his shopping trip to Smallville's furniture stores. The leather chairs matched the sofas he'd had placed in his office, and the end tables had been chosen to go with the cherry hardwood paneling. Like most other rooms in the castle, it came complete with a fireplace and a thick rug in front of it.
The mother dog moved toward the sofas, then bypassed them to make a circuit around the room, her whelp following. She ended up back at the fireplace, and the two laid down together.
Lex unbuttoned his ruined shirt and left it overtop his coat. His undershirt wasn't a decent barrier against the chill of the room, but Enrique thankfully chose that moment to knock on the door and enter. "Your clothes."
"Thank you, Enrique. Put them on my desk. The vet?"
"There are no practices open at this hour on a Saturday in Smallville. There was a doctor in Metropolis, however, who agreed to drive in this evening. Was there anything else, Mr. Luthor?"
Lex sat next to the dogs and inspected the pups side again. He could at least start cleaning it with water while they waited. He tried to inspect the mother, but she shifted away from him. "A bowl of water. Has there has been a call from the Kents?"
Enrique was already halfway to the door. "There's been no contact from the Kents. Would you like me to send in someone to assist you?"
"I've got it." Lex smiled as the pup licked the back of his hand. "Bring something for them to eat, too."
* * *
"Kent Farms," Martha answered. Pete and Jonathon watched on hopefully.
The voice that responded wasn't Clark's. "Hello, Mrs. Kent."
She tamped down on her disappointment and forced a smile on her face. "Lex. How can I help you?"
"I was just calling to let you know I've arrived back in Smallville." There was a slight pause and a sound that may have been a dog bark. "I thought it would save Clark time later, if you knew where to find me."
"That's very thoughtful." The barking came again, this time sounding more insistent. "Is that a... dog?" She pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed suddenly by hope and certainty.
Lex chuckled into the phone. "It is. Two of them, in fact. I found the pair on the outskirts of Smallville. Bohemian shepherds, looks like mother and son, though... Oh, well. Father and son, maybe." He sounded somewhat discomfited, but he didn't offer how he'd figured out the difference in gender.
"Where did you find them?" she asked. Pete and Jonathon sat up a little straighter at her tone, and there was another pause on Lex's end. She cleared her throat, and tried to eliminate anything suspicious from her voice. "Jonathon and I would love to help you find the proper owners."
"Of course, Mrs. Kent. I found them near County Farm Road, near the junction for Granville and Metropolis. There was a cat there... it looked like it was attacking them." There was more barking, clearer this time, and Lex's laughter sounded surprised. Genuine. "I think someone else wants to speak with you."
"Is that the... father?" The men in her kitchen frowned in confusion, but Lex's agreement decided her. "I'll be over shortly, Lex."
His laughter vanished. "You don't have to do that, Martha. The vet won't even arrive for a couple more hours."
"Please, I'd like to help." She hesitated, aware that her insistence would be suspicious. She forced herself to offer, "Unless it's inconvenient for you."
"Not at all," he replied immediately. "Would you like me to send a car?"
Jonathon wouldn't like it, but he would also need the truck to go looking for Clark. "Yes, please. That would be lovely."
"It will be there shortly." Another pause heavy with silence. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. Good-bye."
"Bye, Lex." She hung up the phone and settled back in her seat before addressing her husband and Pete. "Lex rescued two dogs. One was injured. The other was protecting it."
By the look on Jonathon and Pete's faces, she was the only one who understood the significance of that. "Dogs, Martha. Not wolves," Jonathon said softly. He was following her logic, at least, but it wasn't enough.
She sighed. "Call it a mother's instinct, Jonathon. That was my son barking into the phone." She pushed on in the face of his skepticism. "We've been thinking about searching for a wolf, but Pete admitted it was dark in the store and that they only saw the 'wolf' for a few seconds. He's just as likely to be a dog."
He didn't look swayed, but he did offer, "I'll drive you over."
"Actually, Lex is sending a car for me. I'd like it if you'd look for Clark along the other routes into Smallville. Starting with the County Farm road junction." If she was wrong, he could be anywhere.
"Am I looking for a dog or a boy?" He stood, and she knew he'd be looking for both, whether he believed in her theory or not. "Pete, would you like to help me, or are you going back into town to help Chloe?"
"She's just sitting at the Talon with Lana, waiting for Clark to show." Pete rose as well. "I'll go with you. Two pair of eyes are better than one."
"And be careful. Lex said he had a bit of a problem dealing with a cat."
Jonathon's expression was a priceless combination of surprised and skeptical. "Cats?"
"Anything's possible in Smallville. I love you, you wonderful man." She pulled Jonathon down to press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving. "Leave a note for Clark, in case he comes home?"
"I'll do it. I have a message from Chloe," Pete offered. "She's picked out his costume for Halloween; he's not just in the doghouse with her, she has plans to buy him a leash and a tracking device."
* * *
There was something to be said for canine hearing. Clark had recognized his mother's voice even before Lex had said 'Mrs. Kent.' By the time Lex concluded the call, Clark's tail was thumping against the floor in front of Lex's desk hard enough to put a dent and several cracks in the marble. He laid over it quickly, but Lex's sharp gaze stayed on him long enough for Clark to worry.
Eventually, Lex nodded. "Looks like the cat didn't hurt you after all." A maid entered through a side door, carrying a bowl of water. She looked inquiringly at Lex, who pointed toward the fireplace. Like a character out of a bad historical romance, she set the bowl down and stayed bent over, her head turned to give Lex a coy look. Her breasts nearly fell out of the top of her uniform.
The puppy ambled over to investigate and Lex joined it at the maid's side. The smile he turned on the maid fell under the classification of a leer, one that died as a low, menacing growl filled the air. The sound abruptly stopped when Clark realized it was coming from him.
It served its purpose, however. The maid was quickly excused, and Lex's attention was once more squarely on Clark. A very large part of Clark wanted to move to join Lex and the puppy, but to do so would have left the damaged floor open to scrutiny. Clark wasn't nearly lucky enough for Lex to miss so sizeable a demonstration of power.
In this form, it wasn't very likely that Lex would connect anything Clark did back to the things he did when he was a boy- or an alien. But Clark wasn't exactly in control of his changes, and he couldn't predict when he'd finally change back - or that he would at all - but Clark was trying to stay positive.
Lex picked the pup up, and it responded to Lex's care with gratitude and warmth, quivering with excitement. Even when Lex's fingers grazed the claw mark on its side, it did little more than flinch and whimper quietly.
"I'm going to clean this wound," Lex said, his voice filling the stillness of the room. "The veterinarian will take care of it when he arrives, but I'd like you to be cleaned before then. Before Martha Kent arrives, if at all possible. I'd hate for her to think my hospitality lacking."
He turned his head and his gaze caught Clark's again. "Both of you. It would be too much to ask that you bathe yourself and you're too big for me to wrestle you into a tub. I should have had Enrique take care of you."
His eyes returned to the pup, his hands moving easily from administering aid to simple petting. In return, the puppy relaxed into his lap, its eyes closing.
"I don't make a habit of rescuing strays, even when the payoffs are so pleasant." He was looking at the door through which the maid had exited, but Clark would have wagered his meager allowance that Lex's attention was really on him and nothing else. "It's not something I would ever have done before arriving in Smallville, but this town has a way of changing people."
He flashed his teeth in a vague facsimile of a smile. Clark's hackles rose.
Then Lex's expression smoothed out as his attention turned toward the glass doors that opened onto the back gardens. "Storm's coming in." As if urged on by Lex's observation, the wind outside picked up.
The rear grounds stood out in stark relief for a moment, but Clark's eyes quickly caught and were held by the green sheen of feline irises at the edge of the yard, where the grass began to grow wild.
The cats had caught up with them.
* * *
Chloe swallowed the dregs of her coffee just as Lana was putting a fresh cup down in front of her. "Maybe you should call," Lana suggested kindly.
"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "May I use your phone?"
"Of course." Lana moved away to talk to one of the waitresses, and Chloe stood up, coffee in hand.
What Chloe had found was that they were half right. Lana didn't have a new boyfriend, but Lex was back in town, and judging by the dirt and spots of blood on his clothes, there had been trouble. The stray dogs in his car were cute and definitely in need of a rescue, but it was doubtful that Clark had anything to do with them.
When Chloe had asked, Lex had claimed he hadn't seen Clark since Friday. He had been in Metropolis when they'd left that morning for Grandville, and she thought he was probably telling the truth.
"Kent Farms." Chloe had hoped for Martha Kent, but her husband would do. It would have been even better if Clark himself had answered.
"Hi, Mr. Kent. Has Clark come home yet?" It was better to get right to the point.
"Not yet. No sign of him on your end?" He didn't sound hopeful.
She flopped down in the chair behind the desk. "No. Lex Luthor came through half an hour ago, looking a little rough, but he hadn't seen Clark either."
"Martha's on her way over to the Luthor place now," Mr. Kent said. "He said something about rescuing dogs."
"He had them in the car when he passed through here. Beware the cats, I guess." She paused, a thought occurring to her. "You don't suppose the cats of Smallville are... changing, do you?"
Mr. Kent's laugh was rough and humorless. "I hope not. Though, this is Smallville, as Martha reminded me not too long ago."
Stray 2/2