Title: Solving the Puzzle
Author: me_ya_ri
Email: me_ya_ri@yahoo.com
Rating: R at most
Challenge: CLFF Wave 37 – Fun and Games: Prompt # 30 – Crossword Puzzles
Notes: Many thanks to danceswithgary for her beta work! This one came from the following questions: What if Clark had stayed on the farm and followed in Jonathan's footsteps instead of moping and then becoming a reporter? And what would Lex do if he were suddenly required to leave his high-tech life and slow down for a while?
Summary: When Lex suffers a breakdown from work stress, Superman arranges for him to take a vacation on the Kent Farm with Clark. Clark's more than happy to have him there. Being a single farmer is a lonely life, after all. While there, Lex learns some things about Clark and himself that he'd never known, or maybe that he'd forgotten after taking over LuthorCorp.

+++++

"All right, that's quite enough."

Lex whirled and glared up at Superman. He didn't understand why no one else could see the threat that the alleged superhero posed. Superman stared down at him with a frown that pretended to be concerned, but Lex knew better. The alien wasn't concerned about Lex. He was just upset that Lex's cannon had nearly blown him out of the sky.

"Luthor, that's enough. I'm taking the cannon away and then there's going to be some changes in your life."

"You don't scare me, Superman!" Lex shouted as his nemesis stole his equipment at super speed and then disappeared.

None of his staff would meet Lex's eyes when he stormed back into his office several hours later. Oddly enough, the police he expected after Superman's latest threat were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Clark Kent was standing by the windows, looking out over the city, his jeans and flannel shirt a strong counterpoint to Lex's polished office décor.

Lex paused at the door to study Clark. How anyone could believe that Clark Kent and Superman were not the same person Lex would never know. He was beginning to think everyone in Smallville and Metropolis had gone blind. His irritation only increased when Clark turned and smiled with the same warm welcome he'd always graced Lex with from the beginning of their friendship.

"What are you doing here?" Lex demanded.

"You're taking a vacation," Clark said far too calmly and much too authoritatively. "I've already spoken to your staff, Lex. You're taking at least a month off, possibly more."

"I don't have time to take a vacation!" Lex snapped back, stomping over to glare into Clark's eyes. Lex could see Superman's determination there, mixed with Clark's compassion, neither of which was welcome right now. Even if Clark had once been a dear friend, Lex's only friend, before Lionel died in the tornado that tore through Smallville during the high school prom, they had drifted apart. It had proved impossible to maintain a friendship between a billionaire and a farm boy, especially after Clark decided that he would remain on the farm after his father's death during his senior year.

"You don't have much of a choice," Clark said with a little shrug. "It's already done. Honestly, Lex, it's either take a vacation or be committed to an asylum. Superman's already gone to the authorities and your behavior has been so erratic lately that they're all for locking you up. Come on. I've already got your clothes packed and in my truck. You can stay with me and just rest for a while."

"You are not going to get away with this," Lex hissed while stabbing Clark in the chest with one finger. "I know!"

"I know you do," Clark said. He patted Lex's shoulder. "I'm fine with that. Not with you trying to blow up half the city because you've somehow decided that Superman is a threat, but perfectly fine with you knowing everything about me."

Lex tried to resist, but Clark was a master at using his superhuman strength with discretion. He propelled Lex out of the office, into the elevator, and out to his battered old truck without any difficulty or injury. The galling thing was that Lex's staff kept calling out wishes for a good vacation. After the third time that happened, Lex stopped yelling at the security staff to throw Clark out. It was obvious that he needed to fire his entire staff and hire better minions.

"This is kidnapping," Lex growled.

"Buckle up," Clark said, with a little grin that was too amused at Lex's expense. "I don't want us to get a ticket."

"You couldn't drive fast enough in this thing to get a ticket," Lex grumbled, though he did fasten his seat belt.

"I don't know," laughed Clark, as he left LuthorCorp and headed for the road to Smallville. "I learned to drive from this crazy guy. He could make just about anything fly over the worst roads."

Lex had to swallow a laugh. He remembered those driving lessons quite fondly, though Jonathan had thrown a fit equal to any of Lionel's fits when he'd heard about them. Clark grinned at Lex and calmly drove them out of Metropolis and onto the narrow road to his hometown. Once on the open road, their speed crept up until they were doing a highly respectable seventy-five miles an hour.

"All right, so this thing does have some pep," Lex allowed after they were well underway.

"Yup," Clark agreed.

"You did pack my computer, didn't you?" Lex asked a half hour later.

"Of course not. This is a vacation. Besides, I don't have wireless and the phone line is for work, not play."

Clark laughed all through Lex's rant about his unwilling and unreasonable separation from technology and the modern age. By the time Lex had wound down enough that he wasn't quite frothing at the mouth, they were nearly there. He froze as a horrible thought occurred to him.

"What about my cell phone charger?" Lex asked, even though he was reasonably certain that he knew the answer to the question before he asked it. "Did you pack that?"

"Nope." Clark didn't look the least bit repentant. Lex retaliated with icy silence until they crossed over the Loeb Bridge where they'd initially met. His silent disapproval had the same effect that his ranting had earlier: zero.

From the moment Smallville came into view, it was apparent it hadn't changed much since Lex had left years ago. It was still tiny, rustic and vaguely dilapidated. The old movie theatre looked like it had been converted into a coffee shop and meeting place, but that was the only difference that Lex could see. Lex pointed at the general store as they went by, silently asking if he could buy a new charger there, but Clark shook his head and kept driving until they pulled up in front of the farmhouse. It too looked about the same as before, although the paint looked like it had been touched up recently. Strange that it felt like home to Lex, not that he'd ever been truly welcome there.

"What will your mother say?" Lex asked as they got out of the truck and rescued his now dust-covered luggage from the back of the truck.

"She said that you could take my old room," Clark said with a big grin. "She's off in Washington, did you know? I still can't believe that she became a senator after Dad died, but she's doing really well."

"Why did you stay on the farm?" Lex asked while noticing the second porch step still creaked under his feet. He paused just inside the door to appreciate the smell of pie and home cooking that had always permeated the old farmhouse. "You could have done so much with your life, Clark. I don't understand why you're wasting it staying here in Smallville."

"I don't think I'm wasting my life," Clark said and shrugged. "Sure, I know Chloe and you think that I am but I'm happy here. I like farming. I like Smallville. It's not as if it keeps me from saving the world or anything. I think that if I had become a reporter like Chloe, I'd have had a horrible time keeping my job. Farm work is solitary. There's no one around to notice if I have to run off and take care of an emergency."

"Still a waste," Lex murmured. He could see Clark's point while still disagreeing with it. In fact, Lex spent the next several hours disagreeing with Clark on everything that came up. No computer and exceedingly limited cell phone (how had he never noticed before that he didn't get coverage on the farm?) was unacceptable. The rough old flannel sheets on Clark's former bed were simply not going to work. Wearing nothing but jeans and T-shirts was so far beyond the pale that Lex lost his temper and ended up shouting.

Through it all, Clark smiled serenely, put Lex's things away, insisted Lex change clothes into something more casual, and then cooked them a dinner that outshone anything that Lex could get from the finest restaurants in Metropolis.

"I had no idea that you could cook this well," Lex commented after he'd tasted Clark's offering.

"Mom left, so if I wanted to eat, I needed to learn to cook," Clark said with a shrug and a shy smile. "Besides, I sell cookbooks along with the produce so it's good to be able to tell people about the recipes."

"You write cookbooks?" Lex asked.

"Yeah," Clark nodded. "Cookbooks and articles on farming, plus the occasional story. It fills my spare time. Well, and I do crossword puzzles, too."

It was odd for Lex not to watch television and surf the Internet while eating. Lex couldn't remember the last time he'd had actual conversation while dining. The women he'd dated since his last failed marriage hadn't been strong on talk, though they'd had other, more horizontal, talents. Clark chatted through dinner about the farm and the neighbors, telling Lex about Lana's art gallery next to the old movie theatre and the way Nell had married three different men in quick succession in the last nine months. He had stories about the corn growing, the raccoons that kept trying to make dens in the barn, and how the barn door had ended up off its hinges because one of the cows had been stung by a hornet and kicked right through it.

Lex laughed more during dinner than he had for the previous several years.

They washed the dishes together, Clark dealing with the scalding hot water and Lex drying. The TV that sat in the living room didn't actually work, so Clark turned on an old radio and tuned it to the public radio station. They listened to classical music and a country western singer that made Lex groan for a while. Clark worked on crossword puzzles while they listened, making clucking noises every time Lex pulled out his cell phone as if to check for emails.

It was far too silent when Lex went to bed and he couldn't sleep. All the big city noises were absent, no blare and screech of traffic, no hum of air-conditioning, and it was too dark with no big city lights outside of the window. Around 2:00 a.m., he finally gave up and went out on the porch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders against the chill of the night.

"So many stars," Lex breathed while staring up at the night sky. The thought of all those stars and the alien races that had to live there made him shudder. Why couldn't the rest of the world see the threat those stars held? The floors creaked inside of the house as Clark padded out to peer sleepily at Lex. His hair was tousled from his pillow and he was rubbing his eyes like a little boy woken up too early.

"Lex?" Clark asked. "Are you all right?"

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep," Lex said. "It's too quiet here."

"I always thought the big city was too loud," Clark said.

He walked outside and sat on the porch swing, looking out over the farm. Lex sat next to him, wondering if Clark had a hard time getting back to sleep, or if he were simply keeping Lex company during his insomniac wandering. Asking didn't seem worth the effort. He stared at the sky and the stars above instead.

"I'm not used to seeing so many stars," Lex said a few minutes later.

"It is nice," Clark agreed.

"Terrifying," Lex disagreed.

"Really?" Clark asked with surprise in his voice. "Huh. I always thought of them as… potential. Who knows what's out there?"

"Exactly."

Clark glanced at Lex from the corner of his eye. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around Lex's back and pulled him closer. He was warm, far warmer than a human would be, and Lex shivered and shuffled a tiny bit closer while silently insisting that it was simply for the warmth.

Kansas spring nights were rather chilly, after all.

+++++

"Four-letter word for top pilots?"

"Why do you keep asking me these things?" Lex groaned.

"They're fun," Clark said with a totally unrepentant grin. "Besides, I thought you'd appreciate something to distract you."

"I've been here three days and yes, I would dearly love to have something to distract me," Lex snapped at him. "Figuring out 'aces' is certainly not going to do it. If you had a difficult one that might distract me for a while."

Clark nodded and grabbed a book off the shelf under the counter. He offered it to Lex with a little smirk that would have done Lionel proud. The title was 'World's Toughest Crossword Puzzles'. There didn't seem to be much else to do on the farm, so Lex sighed and settled in opposite Clark with a pencil of his own.

He'd slept so late the first morning that he'd woken up to lunch instead of breakfast. The second day had been spent nearly clawing his way out of his skin from the sheer lack of distraction. Today he'd gone out and helped Clark work on the farm.

Lex had forgotten how satisfying simple manual labor could be. The childhood trips to his mother's ranch had been so long ago that he'd thought all his memories of how to handle a pitchfork and broom were gone. He was wrong. When Clark handed him a pitchfork and asked him to muck the stalls it was easy, if disgusting. He'd forgotten how the feel of straw differed from hay. Straw didn't shed billions of tiny, scratchy leaves on you as you handled it, though the smell of hay was far sweeter.

He'd spent the day being reminded of what touching a living animal was like, the grateful looks in their eyes as you fed them, the warmth of their bodies filling out the skin and radiating so that it filled the stall, the way they moved and made little noises of contentment at the simple pleasures of food, water, and safety.

He'd forgotten so much.

"Globular," Lex said while staring across the room.

"What?" Clark stared at him as if he'd gone crazy.

"You asked what thirteen down was," Lex explained. "Eight-letter word for rotund, round. Globular."

"Oh yeah, that's perfect!" Clark said with complete delight.

He suddenly paused while filling in the word on his crossword puzzle, tilting his head like a dog hearing his master's car come home. Clark sighed, set his puzzle aside and stood. Lex frowned and stood with him. He couldn't hear anything other than a breeze through the eaves and the birds singing in the trees as evening came on.

"I'll be back in a little bit," said Clark with so much regret that Lex stared at him. "I need to go."

He didn't wait for a response. One instant he was there and the next he was gone, leaving Lex to shiver at the sudden return of Superman. Somehow, during the last few days, Lex had forgotten that Superman lived inside of Clark. Lex scolded himself mentally for the lapse. No matter how Clark framed this little visit, Lex had been forced into it.

Shortly after Superman left, Lex checked his emails, clinging to his cell phone as if it was his lifeline. Answering the dozen or so that were urgent was too difficult on the tiny keyboard and, with the inconsistent coverage Lex had on the farm, there was no way to call. It was more frustrating to check the phone than ignore it. He shut it off and paced, building up a good head of steam for when Superman returned from saving whichever cat had gotten stuck in a tree.

Two hours later, Lex was pacing on the front porch, anger long gone. The radio had managed to tune into a report about Superman saving people from a fierce apartment fire in New York. Seven people were in the hospital. One had died despite Superman flying her directly from the fire to the hospital. Her name was Anne Marie Lynden and she had been eight years old. The news reporter's voice had been scratchy with static but still full of emotion as she talked about Superman's tears at the news the child had died.

"Hey."

"You're back," Lex said and then wanted to kick himself at the sheer banality of the statement.

"Yeah." Clark settled on the front porch, not meeting Lex's eyes.

His bright suit was darkened with soot and damp from the fire hoses. Smudges covered his hands and face. Lex wanted to wrinkle his nose at the smell of smoke and chemicals that hung around Clark, around Superman, but the almost dead look on Clark's face battered the urge down.

"So can you wash that thing?" Lex asked.

"What?"

"The suit, can you wash it?" Lex repeated. "It's rather… aromatic."

Clark breathed something that might be a laugh or possibly a sob. He nodded and went inside, casually stripping the suit off as he went. Lex took it from him before he could load it into the old washing machine, sending Clark in all his naked, soot-stained glory for a shower. Lex watched him go in silence, more focused on the slump in Clark's shoulders than the perfection of his ass. He'd never considered the cost to Clark when Superman failed.

The suit was in the dryer when Lex finally headed upstairs to the little bathroom. He could hear the water running so Lex stepped inside the bathroom. The room was chilly. There was no steam on the mirror. Lex studied the shower curtain for a long moment and then took down the towel that hung next to his. It was old and threadbare, just like Lex's. Someone, probably Martha, had embroidered a 'CK' on one corner.

"Are you done?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I suppose."

Lex chose to pretend that the droplets slowly sliding down Clark's cheeks were from his hair as he slowly helped Clark dry off. Dinner was simple sandwiches and milk, as Clark didn't seem at all interested in food. They went out on the porch and stared into the darkness together once the finished eating.

"Lenticular."

"What?" Clark turned and looked at Lex as if he was the one from another world.

"Nine across," Lex said. "Often mistaken for UFOs. Lenticular clouds."

"Oh."

Clark's face shifted from the half-dead expression into one that held a shy smile. Lex sternly ordered his heart not to beat harder. The last thing either of them needed was complications in their lives. Half an hour later Clark stood, murmured a quiet goodnight, and headed inside to his bed. Lex waited on the porch until he heard muffled whimpers coming from Clark's room.

Then he went inside to hold Clark's hand while he slept.

+++++

"How did you get these ready so early in the season?" Lex asked a week later.

"The tomatoes?" Clark asked while loading produce crates into the truck. "Oh. Well, I started them inside and then put them under plastic when I first put them out. I have a special greenhouse setup I use for them. Extends the season quite a lot. Also made sure that they have a good rich soil. Tomatoes like that."

Clark told Lex stories of how to grow beefsteak tomatoes that were as big as his head while driving the two of them to the Farmer's Market in town. Lex listened and laughed at Clark's colorful descriptions of fighting beetles and slugs for his tomatoes. He laughed until there were tears in his eyes to find out that Clark was afraid of daddy-longlegs spiders. The way Clark's ears were glowing when they got to the market made most of the other farmers grin at them.

Lex wasn't sure what to make of all the welcomes and handshakes he got. No one had truly wanted him around in so long that he couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

By the end of the day, Lex had bought himself a baseball cap to protect his increasingly sunburned head from worse indignities, although he was certain that his ears were already neon red. There had been fried green tomato sandwiches, rhubarb pie, and homemade muffins that made Lex groan at how good they were. One stall even had cotton candy that Lex brought back to share. Clark grinned, shy and pleased, as he licked his sticky fingers, prompting chuckles from the other vendors that made Lex blush.

That night they worked on the last crossword puzzle together, working out 'gravity,' 'barometer,' and 'harvest' together. When Clark was called away for an emergency, Lex stayed up to wait. There was no news report. The public radio station cared little for an earthquake in rural China.

Clark came back dusty but smiling this time. He told Lex about the people he'd seen there while he showered; that he knew enough Chinese to communicate came as a surprise. It shouldn't have. Lex knew that Superman was gifted with languages but, for some reason, he'd separated Superman so strongly from Clark in his mind that it hadn't occurred to him that Clark had to know too.

Neither of them commented on the fact that Clark didn't need Lex's help to get dried off tonight.

+++++

Logorrhea. Gadarene. Yomp.

Lex felt like his vocabulary was expanding at the same time that his life was contracting down to the smallest things. Clark traded odd and obscure words with him as they planted seeds and gathered berries. They yomped a huge new watering trough out into the pasture with Lex grumbling all the way that Clark hardly needed his help.

Clark only laughed at his vociferous complaints.

Lunch taught Lex of racemiferous plants like blueberries and raspberries. It filled in 21 down, which made Clark grin with delight. That had been stumping him for ages, until they'd gone to check on the blueberry bushes behind the barn.

Ragmatial. Lambent.

Clark was completely lambent that night when he flew across the pond, gathering fireflies in a canning jar for Lex to observe. His expression fully met the definition when he let them go a few minutes later. Lex swayed towards him, then away again. Clark had allowed Lex into his life, but that gave him no right to take liberties with Clark's person.

Even if his lips were the most tempting thing Lex had ever seen.

The next day, Lex was alone when he woke. A note on the counter told him that Clark had a major emergency to deal with. Lex fed the cows, took them to their proper pasture, and then cleaned the stalls. He made sure the chickens had their feed and gathered their eggs. Several tomatoes were ripe so Lex picked them.

Lunch was a lonely affair. The radio reported fierce rioting in LA and that the Justice League had been spotted attempting to calm things. The afternoon chores were a bit more intensive physically, keeping Lex's mind off of his phone, his abandoned company but not off Clark out saving the world. As it grew later, Lex made a buffet dinner, hoping that Clark would come home in time to eat it.

He left the dinner out with covers over the food when he went to bed.

"Sorry about yesterday," Clark said the next morning. "I really didn't mean to leave you in the lurch like that."

"No, it's okay," said Lex. "Pancakes for breakfast?"

"Why not?"

"Why not indeed."

They ate pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup on top, discussed the riots and what had set them off, and then went out to work on the tractor together. Lex traded ideas for the latest crossword with Clark as they changed the oil and spark plugs. 'Touching' turned out to be 'osculate', which made Lex's heart beat faster with the desire to follow the prompt. Clark licking his lips certainly didn't help diminish Lex's desire to kiss him.

'Deep emotional connection' in 2 across was empathy, without any doubt. Lex had to wonder who was creating the puzzles that Clark enjoyed solving so much. They seemed to be peering into Lex's heart and mind. The longer that he stayed on the farm, the more empathy he felt, not just for Clark but also for Superman.

He'd developed an antagonism (62 across?) to Superman a few years earlier that had slowly developed into active animosity and then enimity (definitely 2 down). Lex wasn't sure why anymore. He'd always known who Superman was when he took off the cape. Clark's disguise was anything but a disguise, after all. Trusting the total obscurity of his life as Clark Kent to protect him from the world's prying eyes would appear to be foolhardy, if only it didn't work so very well.

Still, as his time on the farm had gone on, he'd gone from antipathy to sympathy, on to infatuation (10 across) and onward into outright yearning (14 down? Maybe but probably not) that would have been embarrassing if he'd thought that Clark was aware of it. The way their hands connected as they worked made Lex want to believe that Clark knew at the same time Lex worried about it.

"There we go," Clark said after a couple of hours work. "Good as new, or close enough anyway."

"I'll take the stalls," Lex volunteered.

"Thanks!"

Clark's beaming smile was almost enough to make Lex throw caution to the winds.

+++++

Charity. Clemency. Pity.

Clark's efforts to include Lex in his life seemed at first to be nothing more than the pity that one accorded to one who battled quixotically against life's metaphorical windmills, but as the days turned into weeks and then into a full month, Lex began to think that there was more to it. The many stories that Clark had to share seemed so small, but they began to take on greater meaning to Lex.

There was concern in Clark's every interaction with Lex. As they began Lex's second month on the farm, Lex became aware that Clark watched Lex as much as he worked on the puzzles or the farm. Lex could see admiration (67 across) in Clark's eyes. That was something he was used to seeing from Clark. It had been there years ago during the year Lex had spent in Smallville during Clark's freshman year.

However, there was a rapport (51 down) between them that was beyond what he would have expected. It took another emergency, this time in South America, for Lex to realize where it came from. While he and Clark had lost contact with each other after that year, he and Superman had been interacting on a nearly daily basis for the last decade.

Trepidation. Consternation. Timorousness.

Fear wasn't an emotion that Lex was comfortable with. He had spent most of his young life battling it, with the not-so-helpful assistance of his father. To discover that fear could send him into trembling fits of anxiety (3 across) was nearly as uncomfortable as the realization that it wasn't fear of Superman that was crippling him.

Infatuation. Yearning.

Fidelity.

Lex had always been aware of his attraction to Clark. The massive inappropriateness of it had been yet another reason why he had been more than willing to leave Smallville behind after his father's death. It was one thing to befriend a farm boy from Smallville, but another thing entirely to want to bend him across your pool table and take his virginity.

He had feared the strength of his emotions, thus he had run away. Unfortunately, he'd run so far that he'd all but forgotten them, at least consciously. Underneath his disastrous (1 across? No, most likely not) marriages and fruitless flirtations, Lex had always compared his various romantic partners to a certain farm boy.

Three days into Superman's relief efforts, Lex realized that it was Friday. The Farmer's Market on Saturday was one of Clark's major sources of income. Unfortunately, the mudslides and political troubles in South America were too severe. There was no way that Superman could get free for at least a few more days.

"Well," Lex murmured as he prepared yet another sandwich for lunch, "I suppose that I should gather up the produce for Clark."

He spent the afternoon picking tomatoes and harvesting zucchini. There were late peas by the bushel, half of which were to be sent to the local restaurant per Clark's carefully handwritten accounts. Lex delved into Clark's plans and purchases, surprised anew with Clark's hidden talents. The young man from Kansas had a surprisingly effective organic produce business.

Lex carefully crated up the various orders and drove them around to the school, restaurant, and grocery store. He smiled and concocted bland lies about one of the cows not being well when they questioned where Clark was. Despite the readily accepting words offered by Clark's customers, Lex was fairly certain that they knew that Clark simply was too busy elsewhere in the world to tend to his farm. Smallville's residents appeared quite aware of who wore the Superman suit. None of them seemed upset that Lex clearly knew as well. That night Lex produced a surprisingly tasty zucchini dish and a simple cobbler from Clark's cookbook that was better than anything he'd had from five star restaurants.

The next day Lex loaded up the truck with produce and cookbooks. The other farmers smiled at Lex when he began setting up Clark's booth. Nell helped him get the tent set up properly. Lana helped him get things arranged in an aesthetically pleasing way. In return, he helped her hang her art in Nell's booth. Her work was quite good, if not exactly to Lex's taste.

Deception. Faith. Trust.

Between chatting with customers about the produce and which of the cookbook's recipes that Clark had prepared for him, Lex did crossword puzzles. It was mid-afternoon when the others started gathering up what was left of their wares. Lex realized that he'd sold every cookbook and most of the produce. He rubbed his sunburned nose and gathered what was left.

On his last trip to the truck, he bought one of Lana's paintings, a simple picture of a red hollyhock in front of buffalo grass. The blue sky behind the red hollyhock reminded Lex of Clark's suit, especially with the contrast of the golden buffalo grass. He set it next to him on the front seat and drove home.

Back inside the yellow farmhouse, he spent a quiet hour recording the sales of the day in violet ink, his precise handwriting an odd counterpoint to Clark's bold scribbles. His stomach rumbled as he finished, so Lex pulled down Clark's personal copy of the cookbook. The notes written in the margins were mixed between Clark's handwriting and Martha's careful printing. It was organized by raw materials, so Lex flipped to the recipes for zucchini, tomatoes and peas. There was one that included all three, with cheese and hamburger.

"Hmm, I need synonyms for 'delicious'," Lex commented once he completed and sampled it. "As well as containers for leftovers."

"Oh, I think I'll eat all of that and more," Clark said from the door. "I can't believe you made Smush."

"You're back!" Lex said. He felt as if the sun had just come out after days of dreary rain. From the smile on Clark's face, Superman's face, Lex suspected that he felt the same way. After a moment of mutual grinning, Lex blinked and cocked his head at Clark. "Smush?"

"The squash-hamburger thing you just made," Clark said. "When I was little I called it Smush. Mom said I shouldn't call it that in the cookbook, but that's always what I've thought of it as."

Lex chuckled at the childish name, but then shook his head as he realized Clark was a mess, his suit covered in mud and dust. There were sticks in his hair and a leaf was clinging to his elbow, apparently glued there by the muck drying on his suit. With a slight frown, he gestured at Clark's condition.

"Be right back," Clark laughed.

He whooshed upstairs, leaving behind a puff of dust and a patter of dirt on the floor. Lex laughed quietly and got out a second plate. The bathtub was going to need a serious cleaning once Clark was done, but at least tonight wouldn't be another solitary dinner. During the last few days, Lex had discovered that he didn't like eating alone anymore. Sweeping up the floor gave Clark just enough time to get clean and dressed, though his hair was still dripping in places once he whooshed back down to the dinner table.

Clark inhaled his first plate of smush, finished off the remainder of it, and then made himself some grilled ham and cheese sandwiches to go with a couple beefsteak tomatoes that he ate raw. They went out on the porch to watch the sun set over the fields, Clark still eating tomatoes.

"Did you eat at all while you were gone?" Lex asked.

"Mmm?" Clark mumbled around a mouth full of tomato. He shook his head no, swallowing. "No, actually I didn't. Drank some water several times but skipped food. There were so many people that needed help that I couldn't take the time. Speaking of which, thanks for running the produce yesterday and taking care of the market today."

"Someone had to do it," Lex said with a philosophic shrug. "What happens when you're busy and unavailable?"

"Usually the neighbors will come and take care of the animals for me," Clark said. "Lana comes over and waters the plants for me. It works out."

"So they all know," Lex murmured as a wave of unease crawled up his spine.

He stared out at the sunset that was staining the sky shades of pink, gold, red and purple. Clark nodded far too calmly while finishing off the last of his tomato. Clark didn't seem to think it was anything to worry about, but Lex couldn't help but fret. There were too many people who could be a threat to Clark in Smallville. After a moment, he realized that he was making wild contingency plans in case one of the other meteor mutants decided to attack Clark's farm, and he laughed at his paranoia.

The laughter wouldn't stop.

Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, holding him close until the laughter gave way to shivers that Lex had just as little control over. It felt so strange to be this out of control. Over the five weeks, he had forgotten what it was like to be obsessed with threats. There were no real threats in Smallville. He knew it intellectually, but the paranoia that his father had beaten into him still refused to let go of his mind years later.

"Sorry," Lex whispered once the shivers stopped and exhaustion took its place.

"It's okay," Clark replied. "It's been a long week."

"That it has," Lex agreed.

Neither of them made a move to head inside into bed. Lex realized after a very long while that he felt something completely novel and rather frightening after too many years. Safe. Clark's thumb rubbed over Lex's bicep (23 across, huh, he hadn't considered that word), stilling a new round of paranoia-caused shivers before they could get started.

"I'm insane," Lex commented.

"I think you were," Clark said with total calm. "You're getting a lot better."

"That's why you dragged me out here, isn't it?" Lex asked. "You could see me losing my mind."

"Mmm-hmm," Clark murmured, nodding and meeting Lex's eyes with far too much wisdom for his age.

"I should probably be on medication."

Clark shrugged and squeezed Lex's shoulders very gently. Lex laid his head on Clark's shoulder, chuckling at the way Clark stiffened and then let out a long whimpering sigh. It was good to know that this wasn't a one-sided whatever-it-was they had going. They rocked together on the swing, Lex running through medications for paranoia and megalomania. By the time he'd worked his way through the alphabet he understood why Clark hadn't bothered taking him to a doctor.

None of them worked on Lex.

His healing mutation ensured that none of the current medications for mental instability would be effective. There was no pharmaceutical cure for his paranoia. The thought hurt but, at the same time, it didn't. Lex had done so well during the last five weeks. Maybe he simply needed to work on finding better ways to cope with the times his mind ran away with him.

"Should go to bed," Clark said a few minutes later.

"Yes." Lex agreed.

Neither of them moved other than to maintain the gentle swaying of the swing.

+++++

Five weeks turned into six and then seven. One afternoon he walked from the farm to the mansion. The caretaker gave him the keys without asking why Lex was there. It was huge and empty. Lex wandered through the hallways, remembering confrontations with his father, playing pool with Clark, the tornado that had set him free.

The window in his study had been repaired years ago. For some reason, Lex had expected there to be a board over the stained glass window that had taken his father's life. There was no sign of blood. All he could smell in the room was dust and old books.

"Lex?" Clark's voice was hesitant. He stood in the double doorway as if he expected Lex to fly off the handle at any moment.

"I've never been back here," Lex commented. "After my father died I never came back to this room. I sent someone else to get my papers and computer."

"I know," Clark said. He came over the Lex's side and stood without touching him. "I helped them gather everything up."

"I could work from here," Lex said. "I did it before."

"Do you want to?"

The question was so completely non-judgmental that Lex turned and looked at Clark. His face was Superman's blank supportive mask, but his eyes were Clark's worried green. Lex opened his mouth and then closed it because he had no idea what he wanted to do. Life had never been about what he wanted. It had always been what had been required of him; what the company needed, the city needed and, eventually, what the world needed.

"I'm not sure I know what I want," Lex said.

He leaned towards Clark and then relaxed into his arms when Clark swept him up and held him close, Clark's warmth soothing Lex's strained nerves. Lex knew of precisely one thing that he wanted just for himself or, more accurately, one person, but that wasn't enough to build his life on.

Or was it?

"Why'd you come over here?" Clark asked eventually.

"I suppose because I feel like I'm hiding from the world," Lex said.

"Seriously?"

"Mmm-hmm," Lex murmured.

It was absurd yet not at the same time. After spending two months on Clark's farm, he felt so much better than he had in years, possibly his entire life. Other than the attraction that neither one of them would bring up, there was no pressure on Lex. He could literally do anything that he wanted or nothing at all, if that was what he felt like doing. At no point in his life had he ever been this free and yet a part of his mind kept telling him that he was running away.

Lex wasn't sure anymore if that part of his mind spoke with his father's derisive tones.

"I don't think that you're hiding," Clark said after a little while. He still had his arms around Lex, providing that safe harbor that Lex had come to rely on. "I think that you're finally figuring out what you want to do when you grow up."

That made Lex splutter and laugh, which gave him the strength to pull away and head for the door. There wasn't anything for him here, other than books. Before he exited the office, he turned back and grabbed a few dozen of his favorite books to read. Maybe he could donate the rest of the books to the Smallville library. It could certainly do with the assistance.

Clark helped him carry the books home without comment. They both walked in silence, watching the world around them as much as they watched the other watching.

+++++

Science had been a fascination when he was younger but his father had forbidden it. Once his father died, Lex had returned to that early love. He found it wanting now. Certainly, he was glad that his company worked to develop cures for various forms of cancer and disease, but joining in that work held little appeal anymore.

Running a business no longer held the slightest interest for him. Even Clark's tiny produce company interested him only as a way to pass the time. He had no desire to help Clark with his books beyond recording entries if Clark was called away to his heroic duties. Being a businessman had been his father's ambition. It had never been Lex's desire to do anything other than prove his father wrong about Lex's ability to succeed.

Politics tempted him. It was why he had run for mayor of Metropolis but the fierce media attention and constant threats would not be healthy for him. He knew that now, as uncomfortable as that realization was. Lex decided to leave politics to those better suited for it. With his propensity for melodrama and paranoia, it would be far too easy to cause truly horrific damage to the world if he did indulge the temptation of becoming a politician.

"I really don't know what to do with myself," Lex commented one evening after they'd finished the latest crossword puzzle together.

"Do you actually have to do anything?" Clark asked. He laughed at the disgusted expression that Lex pointed at him. "No, really. You're rich, Lex. You can rest and relax all you want. Travel, see the world, do philanthropic things like giving huge sums of money to people who need it."

"It's a thought," Lex murmured.

They settled together on the front porch and watched the sun set over the fields. Watching the sun set and the stars come out had become a tradition sometime in the last few weeks. Lex wasn't sure which of them had started it, but it was comforting to sit on the porch swing and stare up at the sky. The many stars that he could see in Smallville no longer frightened him. He could remember feeling threatened by the thought of those distant suns, but somehow Clark had melted the fear away.

"The problem is that I'm honestly not that fond of people," Lex said.

Clark took the return to their previous conversation in stride. "I know. That doesn't stop you from contributing to causes you consider worthy. You could do it anonymously."

"I suppose," Lex replied. He grinned and then laughed at the curious, wary expression in Clark's eyes. "But I don't think that Crossword Addicts Anonymous really needs that much support."

The spluttering laugh that erupted from Clark's lips was wonderful. Clark chuckled but the chuckles quickly died as he realized that Lex was staring at him. He stared back, his eyes flickering from green to blue to startling red in quick succession. When Lex raised a hand to brush his thumb over Clark's cheekbone, the flickering stopped. Clark's eyes stayed a hot red that nearly matched the blush on his cheeks.

They moved together in unison, reaching out and pulling the other close without words. So much of Lex's time on the farm had been occupied with language, but now words and puzzles fell away, leaving just the two of them together on the quietly creaking swing.

Clark tasted of cornbread, honey and ham. He smelled like hay and the earthy musk of his garden's rich soil. His hands were warm on Lex's back and, when Lex straddled Clark's lap, Clark's groan echoed through the darkness surrounding them, Lex's groan a perfect counterpoint.

Lex wasn't sure if his heart beat faster because of the passion and lonely need in Clark's kisses or if it was because Clark floated them up into the air and then carried Lex to the master bedroom without ever setting them down. It could be both. Neither. It hardly mattered.

Their clothes slid off piece by piece, with the same methodical thoroughness that marked Clark's fascination with crossword puzzles. He greeted every bit of revealed flesh with the same delight as he did when Lex supplied him with the answer to one of the prompts. Lex's breath kept catching in his chest. Clark's sexual skills were a stunning surprise given the life he'd lived. There had been nights with high-priced escorts that had less technical perfection in the elicitation of pleasure than Clark.

It was the love that made a difference.

Lex insisted on returning the favor and delighted in making Clark whimper and cry his name in a pleading tone of voice that shook with emotion. They cradled each other once they were done, indulging in blatant cuddling that Lex never allowed with any of his other lovers. It was so different with Clark.

Everything was different with Clark.

+++++

"I've been here three full months," Lex commented several weeks after he'd moved into Clark's bedroom.

"Already?" Clark said. He looked surprised and counted days on the calender. "Huh. It has been."

"I should go back to check on my company," Lex said.

Silence greeted Lex's words. He was trying one of the recipes in Clark's cookbook, a complicated dish with a dozen ingredients that revolved around carefully thin-sliced potatoes from Clark's garden. The blue, red and yellow potatoes gave it more flavor than he'd expected from the instructions. Once the casserole was constructed in carefully colorful layers, Lex slid it into the oven.

"How long will you stay?" Clark asked. He wouldn't meet Lex's eyes.

"I think a week at most," Lex said. "I need to make sure that they haven't gone back to my father's old ways. They have to be getting complacent by now. I think I should shake them up and then disappear again. I'd hate for them to think that I'd lost my edge."

Clark snickered, finally meeting Lex's eyes. There were so many worries in Clark's eyes that Lex knew he should reassure Clark. Unfortunately, Lex wasn't sure that he could. He knew that this wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, but he felt the need for closure.

The next day Clark drove him back to Metropolis. They didn't talk at all on the trip there. Lex kept his hand on Clark's thigh. It kept him grounded, which he certainly needed given all the worries and fears rampaging through his mind. Clark hesitated in the parking garage once he'd let Lex out of the truck.

"I can stay in town," Clark offered hesitantly. He bit his lip as if he was trying to keep from saying anything more.

"You could come upstairs," Lex offered. "It's a long drive. You're welcome, you know."

"I do have things to do on the farm," Clark said with raging hope in his eyes.

"And you can't take care of that easily?" Lex asked with a wry grin that shouldn't tell anyone watching anything important.

Clark laughed and followed Lex up to the penthouse. The penthouse was cold and quiet. Someone had obviously come in and cleaned on a regular basis because there was no dust or trash in the garbage cans. Lex shivered, wondering how he'd lived in this impersonal space for so long.

"You don't have to stay," Clark offered. He hugged Lex from behind, holding him close and burying his face in Lex's shoulder.

"I don't think I will be," Lex said as he looked around in distaste. "I didn't realize how cold and impersonal this place was. I think I may make it a day or two and then leave."

Clark chuckled in this shoulder, relaxing quite a lot. The refrigerator was empty, which made Lex frown. He couldn't blame the cleaning service or whichever of his employees had come over to take care of the place after his abrupt departure. It was certainly better than coming back to food that was developing sentience because of the mold evolving new life forms.

When Lex went to the office a few minutes later, Clark flew home to get something for them to eat that night. The guards at LuthorCorp nearly fell all over themselves when Lex strode in. He was already at his desk before the head of security and his media manager showed up.

"Don't ask, I won't tell you," Lex said before they could splutter questions about exactly where he'd been and what he'd been doing. "Tell me what's happening with the company and what our results are."

Tom Davis, he Executive Vice President, looked like he was about to start sweating blood by the time Lex stopped probing four hours later. It was anything but amusing. Lex had been required to send Tom out of the room for records and reports several times so that Lex didn't throw up.

He'd never realized that his staff looked at him as if he were Lionel Luthor.

"I-I suppose you'll be taking over again," Tom said as five o'clock rolled around.

"Of course not," Lex said as casually as possible. "That's what I hired you for. I will be checking in from time to time and I still expect to get the quarterly results sent to me, but I see no reason to spend my time running a company I never wanted."

Tom stared at Lex as if he'd just sprouted wings and a second head.

"Seriously, you do realize that I only ran the company for this long to prove my father wrong about my business skills, don't you?" Lex drawled the words out and smirked.

"Ah, no, I hadn't realized that," Tom said. He sagged back into his chair to stare at Lex some more. "What will you do now?"

"None of your business," Lex said. "Just pay the bills when they show up. I may be doing some philanthropic donations here and there but, having lived my life according to my father's ambitions, at least until three months ago, I think it's time that I live it according to my own desires now."

The stunned confusion in Tom's eyes slid into something closer to disdain combined with worry. Given the destructive weapons that Lex had been developing before Clark rescued him from himself, Lex could understand the worry. Seeing the disdain just irritated him.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner date," Lex said as he stood.

"I'm sure she'll be grateful to see you," Tom murmured.

"I'm sure he will," Lex said and grinned at the shock in Tom's eyes. "You may see me tomorrow. Or not. I might decide to visit one of the factories or the records department instead. Carry on. I'll provide you with my address later."

Lex calmly strode out of the office and headed straight for the elevator, ignoring Tom's spluttered worries and excuses. The secretary's called 'good evening, sir' went unremarked. When the guards all put snapped to attention and saluted at Lex, he pretended they weren't there.

Clark was outside the front door, leaning against his battered pickup truck. He looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading and grinned, and Lex grinned back in pleased relief. They got in the truck and drove across town to the penthouse. Before they'd gone two blocks, Lex had his tie off and his shirt unbuttoned enough that he could breathe again.

"How are they doing?" Clark asked.

"Horribly," Lex sighed. "I swear it's amazing that the company hasn't shut down entirely while I was gone. I really ought to sell the whole thing and find something worthwhile to do with my money."

"Mmm, what would be worthwhile?" Clark asked.

Lex turned and looked at Clark. He was studying the road, watching the traffic around them. Given his hearing, he was also probably listening to a million voices across the world for those in need. There were a dozen things that Lex could think of doing with the money that would help the world, help people he knew, or help Clark. And he knew that none of them would make any real difference on a global scale.

"I don't know," Lex said as he rested his hand on Clark's thigh. "I was thinking that the Smallville library might like my book collection at the mansion. And I'm sure the school could use new computers. Maybe some scholarships or grants for the hospital in town."

Clark's face went pink and he smiled that shy little smile that Lex usually only saw in bed after they'd made each other come several times apiece. As always, it made Lex's heart thump against his breastbone. Neither of them said anything further until they were back in the cold penthouse, which wasn't as cold as before. The smell of Smush came from the kitchen, and Clark had brought out a couple of bright throw blankets from Lex's college career.

"So… you're coming back to Smallville for a while?" Clark asked while dishing out Smush for the two of them.

"No," Lex said and grabbed Clark's hand so that he couldn't escape. "I'm coming home. With you. There's nowhere else I want to be, Clark. Now and forever, if you'll have me."

The Smush was cold by the time they got to it several hours later, but Lex considered it well worth the wait. LuthorCorp and the world could wait as far as Lex was concerned. The only person who mattered to him was Clark Kent, and the only thing he wanted was their quiet home in Smallville.

And maybe a new crossword puzzle for the two of them to solve together.

The End