The fire in the grate crackled and sputtered, casting shadows over the two people in the room who were shifting through boxes, papers, and a lifetime of belongings. Lex sighed as he was handed the next box to go through. “Thank you, Janet, but I think that’s it for tonight.”

Janet gave a sad nod. “If you need anything…”

“Get some sleep, and thanks for attending the funeral.” Lex was still smarting at the lack of people who had attended. Perhaps everyone was out drinking in celebration that Lionel had finally passed away. Or maybe, Metropolis was too busy to care about the loss of one of it's own.

“Sure, boss; try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.” She saw herself to the door.

Lex looked at the box. “Well, might as well see what secrets you hold before I get some sleep.” He carefully pried open the box that had been rusted shut thanks to the water damage. Almost everything had been damaged in the fire that had taken Lionel’s life, either by water, smoke, or heat. Luckily, Lex had been overseeing renovations to the castle in Smallville at the time.

A small label on a file contained within was simply labeled, “Kent boy – adoption”. Lex’s interest was piqued. He picked up the file and began to read it. “Dad was involved in Clark’s adoption? Did he know the parents?”

Several photos fell out of the folder; they were stuck together, but with careful prying Lex managed to save a few before pushing the rest away. Professionals could deal with them. A bright eyed toddler, who was unmistakably Clark, smiled up innocently from one photo. Another showed a young, vibrant Martha Kent with Clark in her arms. Lex chuckled upon noticing that his father hadn’t gotten any pictures of Jonathan Kent. Neither one of them could really tolerate the older Kent and his sanctimonious nature, but at least of late he’d made some headway.

Yet, it was a small note that caught his attention. It was a note from Lionel, with some of the ink smeared. “…spoke to Jonathan and he agreed to talk to the others. Martha wants to keep the lies simple. I promised to never reveal that they found Clark in that field…”

Lex put the papers and photos down, stared into the fire, and let his mind wander. After about an hour of introspection, the phone rang. Lex blinked, wondering how long he’d sat there trying to fit the puzzle together. Either Clark was a true foundling mutant or …well, his mind just refused to believe the other option; it was too wild. And yet, somehow it made sense –

A servant appeared at the open door to his office. “I’m sorry to disturb you sir, but Martha Kent is on the phone. Do you wish to take it?”

“Yes, I’ll take it in here. Thank you,” Lex muttered, walking over to the phone with hesitation. The friendship between he and Clark had gone on for some time, and he always admired the red-haired matron, making sure to treat her with the utmost respect. “Mrs. Kent, what can I do for you tonight?”

“Lex, I just heard. I’m so sorry. It must have been a terrible shock.” Martha’s voice was full of sympathy.

“Thank you.  It was a bit surprising, yes. But I’m sure that you’re aware my father had enemies in every corner of the world. The penthouse in Metropolis made an easy target.” Martha was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly unsure how to respond. Lex decided to move the subject on to save her the awkwardness. “Um, Mrs. Kent, I wondered if I could speak with you here at the castle tomorrow about some papers and pictures I found in the wreckage.”

There was a sudden intake of air audible over the phone line. “You know I’ll do what I can to help, Lex.”

“I’m sure you can. These are papers about Clark’s adoption. Shall we say 10 a.m.?” Lex used his smoothest voice, but knew that Martha could not resist charging to the defense of her baby boy. “If you all wish to swing by, that’s fine. Or if you’re more comfortable there -?”

“Uh, of course, Lex. I’ll…I’ll see you then. Goodnight.” Lex shook his head as he hung up the phone. Martha’s anxiety was clear and more of an indication that Clark was definitely not from Smallville. After all, if a missing persons report had been filed anywhere in the area, Lionel would have found out about it.

Lex smiled as he made his way to his bedroom that night, actually looking forward to the promise of tomorrow. If nothing else, it would be very enlightening and, he suspected, entertaining as well.

Martha was ushered into Lex’s office and was seated before a silver tray laden with tea and scones. Lex entered, taking in her obvious nervousness and tried to wipe the gloating smirk off of his face, instead plastering his usual face on, “Hello, Mrs. Kent. How are you this morning?”

“Oh, good morning, Lex. I’m fine. But rather concerned given the nature of your call; I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” Lex sat down opposite her and leisurely poured a cup of tea, relishing her anxiety. Once done, he no longer had an excuse to make her wait. “I know that Clark is not from around here.” He pointed upwards.

A loud crash followed this small gesture as the tea cup Martha was holding slid out of her now numb fingers. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes became as wide as Lex had ever seen them. “H-how…w-what do you want?” She stuttered while clutching at her throat, completely heedless of the mess around her being hurriedly cleaned by one of the many maids of the manor.

Lex stood and walked toward one of the long windows to hide his smile. He had only a theory and now it was completely confirmed. Clark Kent was an alien. An alien in Smallville! “You’ll understand it really isn’t safe for Clark to attend high school. Especially since his powers are still developing. I take it this is why he’s missed so much school, as it is?”

The stuttering behind him was more than enough of an answer. He wondered idly how the Kent family ever kept the secret of Clark’s origins as long as they had. “I suggest private tutoring, which I’ll gladly fund.” He sat down. “Clark and I are friends. He has a destiny far outside these cornfields. His powers demand the highest education this world has to offer. He cannot be brought into this world seeing it as only black and white.”

“Jonathan. You’re talking about Jonathan,” Martha whispered. The purse strap between her clenched hands was slowly being strangled to death. Her face was pinched.

“Please, Mrs. Kent, try to calm down. I’m not the enemy here. What I’m offering is to help you both protect Clark and in so doing, protect the world.” Lex tried to explain.

“But what do you want?” She whispered.

“At the moment, all I ask is for the animosity between your husband and I to end and if Clark and I become friends, to allow that or any other relationship to happen between us naturally.” Lex stated firmly. Martha saw the cold, glint of determination in his eyes but her mothering nature soared to the forefront.

 “Jonathan and I <i>might</i> agree, on the stipulation that Clark remain happy.  But I would have to talk to him, of course. But so help me, Lex, if we see he’s unhappy – “

Lex sat down on the edge of his desk. “Whether you and Mr. Kent decide to believe me or not, that is the last thing I would ever want. Oh,” Lex announced after only a slight hesitation,”and I think I should be present when you tell the family.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best –“

Jumping off the desk, Lex said with a smirk, “This is non-negotiable. I can’t have you telling tales behind my back to Mr. Kent and especially not to Clark. Trust is a two-way street, Mrs. Kent.”

She stood stiffly, and then muttered angrily, “Dinner is at six.” Lex nodded and watched the woman turn before storming out of the room. He walked over to a vase and picked up a rose, whispering, “Clark, our destiny awaits.”

The dust from the Porsche announced Lex’s arrival to the Kent Farm. Lex wasn’t surprised to see there wasn’t a welcome committee of the senior Kents, but he was pleased to see Clark walk out of the barn. “Lex! I thought my mom was kidding when she said you were coming for dinner.”

Lex smiled. Clark was covered in a layer of barn dust that coated his red shirt and blue jeans. He was sweaty and his clothes were sticking to his muscular form. “I thought she said six. Am I early?” He inclined his chin toward Clark’s clothes. Clark blushed and Lex had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide how his grin had grown.

“Oh, I’ll go wash up. Come on inside.” Clark put a hand on Lex’s shoulder, guiding him to the two-story yellow farmhouse. Putting on his game face, Lex did his best to appear to be comfortable with entering. He suspected it would be slightly less than welcoming.

There was a distinct chill in the air as he entered the farmhouse. Clark looked from his guest, to his parents, and back again. “Um, look who I found outside.  Do I have enough time to clean up?”

“Wash your hands, Clark,” Martha answered mechanically without even looking at her son.

“I’ll be right back,” Clark whispered and took off toward the bathroom at a jog.

Jonathan Kent was staring a hole through him. “Clark will be told everything, Luthor.”

“Yes, he will,” Lex challenged back. While it wasn’t exactly the way he would have wished things to go, at least everything would be out in the open.

Martha and Jonathan exchanged uneasy glances and sat down at the table. Clark soon joined them with a smile and sat across from Lex. “I still can’t believe you’re here, Lex.”

“Let’s eat,” Jonathan declared grumpily at his son’s obvious happiness at their dinner guest. Martha cleared her throat at his abruptness but otherwise didn’t complain.

“Okay, now I know something is up,” Clark announced, surprising them all. “Why was Lex invited to dinner if you don’t want him here?”

“We didn’t say that, Clark,” Martha replied, looking nervously from Jonathan to Lex.

“You didn’t have to,” Clark stated firmly. “Lex, what’s going on?”

Lex took a deep breath. “I know about your adoption, Clark, and used it as leverage to be allowed to help protect your secret and to allow me to be a part of your life.”

Clark stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. “Shut <i>up.</i>!”

Realizing this was a new saying, Lex relaxed. Clark was actually taking this better than he thought. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You know and you’re not mad?” Clark asked softly, looking at Lex with something akin to desperation.

“Mad about what, Clark? That you lied about that day on the bridge? I understand you were trying to protect a vital secret. But you need more than luck and bad lies; with my backing we can protect you much better.” Lex gestured to Clark’s seat and taking the hint, Clark sat back down.

“I know I’m mad that you’ve blackmailed your way into this family.” Jonathan spat.

“Did you give him a choice?” Clark shot back angrily. “At least Lex is willing to still be my friend.”

“Well, Clark.” Martha twisted her napkin in her lap. “I don’t think Lex’s motives are exactly pure.”

“Duh, mom, he is Alexander Luthor. I’m not going to think he’s changed overnight. He probably sees this as a power move. Is that right, Lex?”

To Lex’s great horror, he flushed. “I was hoping to work on a relationship with you.”

Clark blinked, his eyes going wide before a blinding smile crossed his face. “You like me. You like me?”

Lex smiled back. Jonathan groaned and stormed from the room. Martha made excuses and dashed out after him. “I seem to have cleared the room, yet again.” Lex commented sarcastically. “But in answer to your question, yes, Clark, I like you. I gather it doesn’t bother you?”

Clark grinned back and stood up once more from the table. This time he walked around it to Lex and offered him a hand up. Lex accepted it and stood up, their hands still loosely clasped. “It doesn’t bother me. Did that blackmailing include anything else I should know about?”

“I want you to have a private tutor.”

“At the mansion?” Clark smiled. “Very slick, Lex.”

“Being a Luthor means never having to say you’re sorry.” Lex smirked.

“I’ve never gone out with a guy before,” Clark whispered, suddenly shy for a moment.

“Then let the education start,” Lex replied, closing the gap between them and kissing Clark for the first time. It was gentle at first, then became possessive, passionate, and electric, leaving them gasping for air and eager to consummate their future – together.

No matter <i>how</i> it came to be, the promise of tomorrow was theirs.