Leata's Hideyhole

Just Another Day in Gotham

The wind blew through open windows, curtains fluttering into the manor as sunlight made the broken glass glitter on the floor. Within the sitting room furniture sat upturned, daggers lay buried in the too thin walls as paper blew scattered through the space. Green seemed to glow among the wreckage of the Wayne Manor. The askew radio was faint and filled the home with static before a groan sounded.

Talia slowly came to, head aching and full of cotton. Her fingers twitched against the carpet where she lay crumbled on the floor. Long dark hair lay in waves around her surrounding her not unlike the remnants of glowing green and discarded weapons.

"C-Clark," her voice was hoarse, dry as she winced, raising her head as evenly as she could.

Her eyes roamed their love nest, but the assailants were long gone. They had been more than prepared not only for her but for Clark. She grunted, unable to push herself up with both arms, one shoulder clearly dislodged. She huffed out a breath as she gritted her teeth pushing herself up on her single arm. She blew hair out of her face before she threw her head back to rid herself of it, only to instantly regret it as dizziness clouded her swimming vision instead of her hair.

A curse left her grimacing lips, sitting up fully taking in the clues the culprits had left behind. It was clear that Bruce had slept at the office once more and that somehow the hoard of mask men had known. She blinked trying to force her eyes to clear, raising a hand to wipe the dried blood from her face. Few could pull off such an attack and live, she thought, dragging herself to her feet and moving to the hardwood archway.

She eyeballed the grandfather clock, and glared at it. She had been unconscious for far too long, lost too much time between the snatching of her love and now. A shout left her as she rammed her shoulder back into its socket on the hardwood. She rolled it slowly to test the ache in her muscles. She had no time to waste, she shook off the remainder of her disorientation and made for the door. Her arm reached upwards, ripping her daggers from the wall as she went to wake her gumshoe and rescue their stolen alien love.

Bruce started awake at the sound of the front office door slamming and the yell that followed it.

"Bruce!"

A groan left him, hat falling from his face at the sound of one of his lovers outside the door. He had meant to return home last night but had been consumed in his case. By the time he'd solved the case in a robbery gone wrong, he'd had ended up having a few too many drinks.

"Is he here?"

"Where else would he be?"

Bruce frowned, hearing his assistant laughing as he spoke. The smell of fresh java, no doubt made by Grayson, curbing his anger at the rude awakening.

The smell wafted through his closed office door, helping to rouse Bruce from the small settee he kept in his office.

"Never left after sending Bane to the big house. You know how he is."

A scoff sounded as Bruce grouched, pushing himself from his chesterfield and ankling towards the door. He lurched it open, hand scrubbing down his face.

"I do, unfortunately," she said, taking in the slept in sight of her beloved. "Someone has taken our Clark."

Bruce blinked, waking faster at that. "What?" He asked, looking at the java that was being poured much too slowly. He snapped his fingers and Dick rolled his eyes handing the mug to him. "How is that possible?"

Dick frowned at the news, taking in Talia and noting the rushed state of her dress and the smeared blood at her hairline.

"Someone got past you?" He asked while pouring her a cup adding a drop of the sauce to it. "Past Kent?"

Bruce frowned at the addition she received and he didn't. He shook his cup at the younger man to which Dick just frowned at him and turned to replace the pot on the hotplate.

She smirked at Bruce, offering a nod of thanks to Dick and taking a hardy sip of it before speaking. "They were well armed and prepared for us," she said bitterly, taking another sip. She pulled out her blade. "Alfred is currently busy removing all of this from our home."

Dick leaned in and Bruce downed the rest of his too hot joe, putting down his mug quickly to take the blade from her.

"Kryptonite?" He questioned, taking a slant at the odd dust on her blade and handle. "Not many know of Clark's origins," he said inspecting the dust.

It was a short list that knew, and shorter still who knew his only weakness — other than his shining heart in this dim and crime infested city. That also didn't account for who would have access to it.

"I don't think it was Father," she said, glaring at the green dusted dagger. "He has made peace with my choices and with yours."

"Agreed. He's given up on you after all these years. Plus, Ra's doesn't have access to this," he said, holding up the blade before turning back to his office. He went to his desk, digging through the drawers and pulling out a magnifying glass. "It's very refined kryptonite, almost pure."

"Hurtful, but not untrue," she admitted, crossing her arms as she followed him into his office. "If not Father," she began, stopping behind him with her mug, eyes narrowing on the blade under the glass. "There are still many others who would wish to harm our curious newsie." She leaned closer to Bruce from behind, focused on the dust. "But few know of his abilities and weaknesses."

"It's a short list," he agreed, trying to hide his worry of Clark having breathed in this fine powder. "I'll have to shake a few trees, see what comes out."

"You mean we," Talia corrected, downing the rest of her spiked coffee before slamming it down onto Bruce's desk. "I shall not be leaving this to only you, beloved. Clark relies on his abilities all too often. If he is without them and without his mask he will surely be in danger. We must retrieve him, together."

Bruce frowned at her. "We follow my rules then," when she shrugged him off moving away from him he rose quickly to grab her. "Talia, I'm serious. Clark won't like it. No killing." She frowned at him and glared at his grip around her biceps but he didn't relent. "Promise, my way or I'll drop you right back here."

Instead of breaking out of his hold she moved back to him, pressing to his front and looking up at his hard glare and matching it. "Fine," she sighed heavily as if the agreement would kill her. "I will be merciful today, but only if they have left him unharmed."

"Hospitals, not body bags." Bruce hummed seeing the worry that lay beneath the threat. "We'll get him back, beloved," he promised her, lifting her chin to press a reassuring kiss to her lips. "We will."

She returned the kiss, eyes tightly closed to fight back the worry that threatened to cloud her judgment, hands gripping his lapels and nodding.

"I know," she took a sharp inhale, eyes like burning coals opening with renewed determination. "Come, let's check the Gazette before we worry further."

"Then the refinery plants," he followed her out of his office, knowing someone had to have used them to refine the meteorites. As they left his office he handed back her blade and he put an eyeball on the desk Clark kept there. "Dick. Stay here. Take a gander through his files, let us know if he turns up and what angles he was working."

"Already on it," he said, shuffling through Clark's drawers. "So far I got sod all. If I find something, I'll drop a nickel," he said with a firm nod.

At the Gazette, Talia slammed a desk drawer closed with more force than it could probably handle. Startling Lois as the newshawk walked up to the space she shared with Clark.

"Whoa. Cool it doll," she said, glancing between the two she had only met a few times. She narrowed her eyes, popping her gum as she stopped just in front of them. "Where's the fire?"

Bruce looked up from the files he had found on Lexcorp. "When was the last time you laid eyes on Clark?" He glanced at her before looking back to the paperwork that seemed to be on the square but knowing the bad hat it was probably anything other than dodgy.

"Smallville?" Lois frowned, eyeballing the two. "Been a while… he missing?" She questioned concern etching into her voice.

"Yes. What was he working on last?"

Talia crossed her arms over her chest as she took a slant at Lois with a critical eye. She wasn't surprised when Lois shrugged. If something big was happening, something that could be dangerous, they all knew Clark would never involve her.

"He mention working on anything at all?"

"No, played it close to the chest. Didn't want me involved no matter how hard I pressed." She frowned, hands going to her hips as she leveled with the other woman, Bruce still reading the files. "And believe me, sister, I pressed."

Talia released a believing sound, finger curling to her chin and tapping her bottom lip as she thought. It was rare for the man they loved to work in the city rather than at home, especially if it was a case that may be dangerous. If that was the case the scattered state of their home could be the result not only of her fighting off Clark's captures, but also them searching after she had lost consciousness.

"You think he was working on something big?"

Bruce nodded to Lois's question. "I'm betting on it." His head turned as someone came up to Lois.

"Hey, you know a Wayne? Got someone on the horn for him."

"Yeah, Jimmy he's right here," Lois nodded to the PI.

Talia looked at him as Bruce rushed to take the call. "It should be Grayson with news," she said, eyes falling back onto Clark's desk. Her lips flattened into a tight line at the photo of the three of them from their last celebration, a birthday from a dear friend of Clark's if she was remembering correctly. "Hopefully," she added after a moment.

Lois moved closer to the other woman nodding to her, seeing the worry behind the mask of intensity. "If anyone can find him it's that flat foot of yours and you. No one makes a better team than you two."

Talia's eyes caught Bruce waving her to join her in leaving. "Clark makes us better," she said in a way of good bye. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Lane."

"Yeah, no problem." Lois watched her go turning as she passed her. "He has a habit of doing that to folks." Her eyes watched them leave before glomming at the photo of the three, hoping that they would find him soon.

Across the darkening city, Clark grunted. The lights were dim but illuminated enough for him to see the green surrounding him. He could hear the boiling gin and steam of the distillery and chains rattling in the breeze about him and felt blood as it slicked his skin. He could feel the heat at his back from the large vats just behind him. Clark tried to steady his breath, blood framing his face and decorating his split lip as he tried to free himself from the ropes around his broad chest and biceps that kept him in an old metal chair. Clark huffed at the queasiness that flooded him at trying to shuffle and shift his way free.

A grunt of aggravation left him, the brunette easily should have been able to break free, run home, and check in Talia, but all of that was just a fantasy with the pieces of his first home littered about him. Worry for her filled him despite his position, he had rarely seen anyone get the best of the trained assassin. He closed his eyes trying to shake the thought of her still laying motionless on their bedroom floor. Bruce would have found her and even if he hadn't their lover was strong. He had to have faith in her, faith that she would be fine.

Clark was happy at least that Luthor's men were taking a break from working him over but the blood on his tongue didn't give him high hopes for escaping. Luthor had to know the newsie wouldn't stop his investigation even if he was bleeding for the first time. The brunette would never join him, nor cover up the man's crimes, let alone stop trying to put a kibosh on his crimes anyway he could. He huffed out a breath trying to summon any strength to free himself from the chair and get away from the rocks that cursed him.

Clark took a deep breath, eyes opening as he tried to spot anything to help him. The brunette took a gander at the dirty cement floor that held sod all but the scattered rocks that kept him weak and sick. To his right there were controls and some sort of hook which was connected to the rails that ran along the high ceiling of the factory he had been investigating. He didn't gleam anything that he could reach let alone that would help him free himself in his weakened state.

Before he could think too much about any hope of a back-window, the door at the top of the stairs to his left opened. He grimaced when his alone time was cut short. He swallowed back the lurch of his stomach and throbbing pain in his head at the loud clanking steps of Luthor and his men as they clopped down the metal staircase. Clark gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes to focus on them enough to glare while fighting the unease of his stomach and his swimming vision.

Lex's smile became even smugger as he ambled down from the offices to the old factory floor seeing the way Clark tried to free himself. "It really is no use, kid," he called when he was on the bottom step. "You forget how well I know you, Kent. And I know you can not break free with so much of those rocks around you." He stopped just short of the ring of green, lamps sweeping over the rocks before looking back at the newsie. "So just take a load off and enjoy my hospitality while it lasts."

Clark panted, fighting back the bile in his throat. "Hospitality?" He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "Some host, you are Luthor! Didn't even offer me a drink."

Lex chuckled dryly before pulling back his fist for a Sunday punch which had Clark's head snapped to the side with a satisfying crunch.

He smiled, shaking out his wrist and hand admiring the fresh blood on the alien's lips. "Oh, you have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." He chuckled with real mirth, glancing at one of the men behind him. "Why don't we get Mr. Kent a nibble? Everyone, even insufferable newshounds, deserve a last drink."

Clark spat blood onto the dirty floor, tongue going over his bloody teeth before spitting once more. "Last drink? Gonna burn me, Lexie?" He winced at the pain in his jaw not used to it.

A gasped cry left him when Lex dug his hands into his hair and pulled, yanking his head back viciously.

"Don't call me that, farm boy." His voice was a hiss, the nickname that had been hurled at him by Bruce and the other boys in his youth. "And to answer your question. Yes, I plan to bury you and your story. Quite literally."

Clark winced as Lex released him, neck rolling to the side. Lex watched him, smiling and satisfied in his silence and slow loss of consciousness. He patted his cheek before leaving Clark's space and standing straight once more.

"Rest up, Kent. I'll be back with that drink, and to watch you die." He hummed, taking a deep breath. "Wouldn't want to miss that."

It was hours before Clark would regain consciousness, and not before an old beater pulled up outside. The alien was unaware how close his lovers were to him, and they were just as unclear about his well being.

"Dick 's sure this is the place?"

Talia leaned forward in the passenger's seat of their beater as Bruce turned off the engine. Her eyes roved the seemingly abandoned warehouse that Clark had claimed was anything but.

"It lines up with Clark's notes on Luthor's shipments and movements." Bruce put his hat on as he stepped from the car. "Dick's got the double o on the other option, but this is our best bet."

She followed suit checking her piece before unsheathing her dagger as they approached the building. At the sight of the gun Bruce put his arm out in front of her.

"Nonlethal."

She narrowed her eyes at him, shoving her gun back into its holster and shouldering past him. "For Clark, perhaps," she muttered, jumping up to pull down the ladder and hurrying to climb up the fire escape. She grinned as she swung herself up, planning on taking the building from a higher vantage point. "Meet you in the middle, beloved."

Bruce frowned as he watched her climb, lips pressing into a thin line as she slipped through an open window. He shook his head, focusing on Clark rather than the deaths their girl could cause without someone watching over her shoulder.

As quietly and crouched low under the factory's windows as he could Bruce made his way towards a side entrance. He kept his hat low, as he tried the handle, finding it unlocked. He winced at the creak that sounded as he pushed it open enough to slip in. He shimmied his way inside, holding the door and closing it behind him, hoping that the soft click would be lost under the sound of machinery and goons bumping gums nearby.

He scanned the room, a dark office filled with dust covered supplies, before looking towards the open doorway to the factory floor. The floor was littered with broken glass and debris and he chose his steps wisely. He tilted his head, listening, as he crept through the unit office and towards the opening. Bruce readied himself, reaching into his inner pocket and pulling out his collapsed baton, being careful not to make a sound as he walked.

As he peered around the door frame, fanning for the guards that were surely strapped and waiting. Bruce kept searching, eyes peeled on the ground floor, moving slowly from the room to the boxes that lined the factory floor. He dared to stand a bit taller, peering inside and released a silent scoff at the booze within it. Of course this was all over a couple of bottles.

He looked up as he crouched back down, spotting the guards circling the floor. He took a slant at the upper level, spotting lights on in one of the offices and the shadows he was sure Talia was using to conceal herself. He could see a few guards there, pieces loaded and ready to fire, but had no doubt she could handle them.

His eyes stalled, worry filling him when he caught sight of Clark for the first time. The brunette's head was rolling from side to side, clearly unconscious, as he was hoisted higher and higher. The rope that bound him to a chair that was a glow with large chunks of green that looked woven through the knots. As he followed the chain with his gaze, Bruce could see the hook the chair was attached to kept being raised and dragging him closer to the superheated machinery.

Bruce swallowed it down his fear as best he could, heart squeezing at the sight of Clark's blood as his head lolled to the side. He had never witnessed the alien injured, not like this, with his sunlit skin broken and smeared with red, bruises littering his face and neck, and left eye nearly swollen shut. Talia would not go easy on them, and as his fists clenched and Clark's bound and balled up body was hoisted closer to the bubbling fermenting booze he didn't think he would either. He struggled to take his eyes off his lover, glued to the floor, before forcing himself to look away and right into Talia's burning gaze.

He wasn't sure if she saw him, but he had to believe and trust that she could handle the thugs up there, while he removed the goons on the ground and tried to get to the controls. Bruce swallowed watching her calculated rage and grip on her knives as their lover was moved closer to the bubbling vat.

He sucked in a calming breath before shooting out of the shadows, taking one by surprise. Bruce hit him hard with the baton across the back as it snapped out to full length. He hit him against the back of his head, catching him as he fell and using him as a shield. It was short lived as the others filled the man full of lead, and Bruce was forced to throw him forward before landing a hard kick to another's jaw, baton swinging out to slam down on his knuckles. He didn't pause in his fury of motion, baton and fists leveling blow after blow on the group. He turned, kicking another as his hand went to his belt to pull out a bully club before he brought it down across someone's shoulder with a satisfying crack.

Bruce turned, grunting at the blow to his stomach. He turned, raising his baton once more and cracking it across the last goon's free hands before the club slammed into his face. He watched them stagger, the last of them going down with a hard kick to his jaw. The gumshoe's head snapped to the sound of Talia's yell, the telltale sound of bodies dropping following her like they did everywhere.

He turned fully at Talia's shout as she jumped downward, bodies thumping to the ground around her and cushioning her fall as Talia threw them and herself over the rusting guardrails. He didn't have time to remind her about going easy, and as he looked up at Clark's motionless body, he found he didn't want to.

His baton landed one last time on a guard as he made to get back up. "Stay down pal," he said before making his way to her and the controls. Bruce didn't look at her, trying and failing to stop the belt the chain was connected to, before he tried to reverse it when that failed too. "It's jammed up. Luthor must have broken it," he grouched, hating Luthor's forethought.

She glared at the upper floor, gleaming Lex's smug grin as he rushed from the building. She moved towards the stairs, wanting to chase him, but Bruce held her back.

"We don't have time for him." He didn't look at her as he spoke, wanting to let her go, wanting to capture the bad hat as much as she did. "Not if we want to bring him home."

Her lips were pulled into a tight grimace, fingers clenching around her weapons before nodding. "What do you suggest?" She asked, shoulders relaxing a fraction as she pushed out a breath.

Bruce fanned around them, at the machine before nodding his head towards the control panel.

"I'll find something to get it to stop. Gum up the machine. You get him down."

He glanced back at her long enough to share nod before they both took off to complete their tasks.

Talia grunted, jumping up and climbing back up the rails. Her head turned, eyeballing her target as she jumped to the top floor. She turned against the shitty railing watching as Clark swung, chair and all, before lunching her way from the railing to the chain connected to him. Her hands nearly slipped but her legs wrapped tightly around the thick chain.

"Clark, love can you hear me?" She questioned. She frowned down at him before looking towards the hook. "Really wish you could fly right about now," she mumbled, feeling the heat from the fermenting beer.

She frowned, shimmying downward and carefully trying to rid the rope of its Kryptonite. She flung it as far away from them as she could, her eyes drinking in Clark's pale and red smeared face as she worked to undo the knots. She held tight to him as they swung closer to the impossible heat, hearing Bruce shout below just before the machinery made a horrid screech. Smoke filled the air as the two attached to the ceiling stopped abruptly.

Talia looked around them, the railing was not too far from them. Her eyes narrowed as she freed Clark from the chair only relaxing a fraction when he finally made a sound of pain when she held tight to him. Bruce saw her plan as they began to swing back and forth. The chair creaking under their combined weight. He raced to the top, meaning to try to catch them as he watched Talia swing them back and forth while cradling Clark to her chest.

"Ready beloved?" She asked once she was confident it was as close as she could get them.

"Come to me," Bruce said, ready to catch them and refusing to let them fall.

His arms reached and Talia grimaced as she pushed off from the metal chair with Clark's dead weight in her arms. A free hand reached and Bruce grabbed it, the other snatching the back of Clark's sweat drenched shirt.

"Got ya."

The former button woman took a deep breath as Bruce pulled Clark up while she held onto the railing and lifted herself over.

"You always manage to," she complimented, looking at Clark as Bruce inspected his wounds. "Let's get him home and healed," she commanded, hand pressing to Bruce's spine knowing the worry he held and concealed there. "He needs sunlight and us, but he will be fine."

Bruce nodded, frowning at the painted whine that left Clark as he lifted him. "Come on," he said as the brunette roused slightly. "We've got you," he said as Talia moved to take the weight of his other shoulder.

The brunette's hazed gaze opened looking to them both as they helped him towards the exit. "Should've known you would find me," he mumbled, exhausted but finally free of the dizziness they had been plaguing him since being dragged here. "Thank you," he said as a smile filled his healing lips, pained and small and brief as it was.

Beware of the Goo and Feelings

Angel frowned, swinging his sword thick blood sliding from it as he did.

“That could have been smoother.”

"Couldda done without all the goo," Spoke replied with a sigh, pouting down at the orange slime that was soaking into his skin. "Why is there always goo?" He questioned, looking up from his ruined black jeans and shirt.

"I don't know, Spike," he answered without looking at him.

Angel was busy looking over his own clothes as they both made their way back to the office. "How much of that did you get on you?" He asked, finally looking at Spike as he came closer to him on the walkway within the sewer.

"Tryin' to get me undressed?" Spike taunted, all bite and enjoying the annoyed shake of Angel's head. He studied his hands, watching the way his cold undead skin started to flush and itch. "Did that Wes of yours say anything about this crud?"

Brown eyes that were busy scanning the tunnels for any more of the infesting demons rolled at Spike's words. "He is not mine," he bit out before returning to looking around them, watching their backs as he held his sword tighter. "And no, I don't think so. Why?"

When his question was met with silence he turned back around, just in time to find his arms full of a vampire who felt altogether too warm against him.

"Spike?" Angel blinked, hands holding him and trying his best not to get any of the goo the blonde had been worried about on him. "Spike!" His hand moved to touch his cheek with a curse at the unnatural warmth to his skin. "Dammit Will."

The elder vampire was cautious of the goo that dripped from the blonde. He frowned at the water that was slowly flowing by them, knowing Spike would hate him but feared leaving the orange fluid on his skin any longer. He carefully tried to clean it off him without touching it in the foul run off. He winced at how unresponsive the other was, continuing to call his name, hoping that once his body was clean of the odd fluid he would begin to wake. Angel wasn't even surprised when his hopes were dashed.

"Will?" He questioned, holding him close and trying to slap his face as gently as he could. "Okay," he swallowed when he didn't wake up looking around them and being sure they were well and truly alone before hefting the unconscious blond onto his shoulder. "Let's get back, they'll… someone will know how to fix this."

Dealing with the 3 Fs, Family, Failure, and the Fears

"Jonah," Peter said in a breath watching the water churn with blood and gore.

"Well," Conrad hummed a smile clear in his voice as Peter's heart sank along with the Nemesis. "That's that then."

Peter shook his head slightly, lips parted as he watched the far off waters where the old ship had been. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe that his leech was gone. The movement of the ship under him pulled him from his thoughts.

"Stop."

He wouldn't leave him.

He couldn't.

"I said stop!"

Peter had to find him. He had to stop the ship. He had to find Elias. Something old and primal snarled within him, his hunt wasn't done.

“Lower the boat.”

“What?! Are you mad? I will do no such thing.”

“Lower the bloody boat and wait here! I'm going to get him.”

“Get him?” Conrad looked from Peter to the bodies floating in the choppy waters. “What? Get his corpse?" He waved a hand at the red coloured waters. "Elias Bouchard is dead, cousin. You saw it fail with your own eyes! All of those little blood suckers are dead.”

Peter grabbed him, the snarl breaking free from his chest and rolling past his lips. “Jonah Magnus did not die.” The confidence and surety in his growled words were undeniable. “Lower the lifeboat and wait. I will come back.”

Conrad glared at Peter's sharp and elongated teeth. “That wasn't our deal." His nose wrinkled in distaste at the heavy breaths that left Peter. "Father didn't say I had to take you home, just here.”

“You will wait or I will hunt you down." He paused, shoving him into the rail bending closer to him. "And make sure you die with an audience, little cousin.”

Conrad winced at his words as Peter's hands squeezed his throat punctuated his words. “Fine!” He yelled when he could breathe, shaking him off and glaring at him. He sighed, rubbing his throat grumbling about violence and physical contact. “But then we are done. Nearest port, I'm leaving you and whatever is left of Magnus.”

Peter snorted, pulling back after one last hard shove of the captain and moved towards the lifeboat. He knew he wasn't dead. He wouldn't be, not with how firmly he felt the call. Peter vaulted himself over the edge and into the lifeboat determination and the Hunt drove him onward. His god guided him through the Vast and Lonely of the choppy sea, sharp hawk inspired eyes searching the uneasy waters as he rowed.

No-pressure tags for some of my other writer friends: @mrswhozeewhatsis, @leatafandom, @godmadeaterribleerror!

Snackles GIF that I found from @dean-ness 's Blogpost and then decided to loop and reverse it:

List of Squares for Round Two: (in order from top left to bottom right)

Has No Comments

Humour/Attempts at Humour

Favourite Kink or Trope

Fantasy Au

Part of a Series

Drabble (100 words)

Song Fic/Inspired by Music

Small Fandom/Ships/Character (under 5k works)

Crack Fic/Ship

Fanart

Found Family

Multi-chapter story

Under 20 Kudos

Not Cannon Compliant

Favorite Side Character

Word from 2000-'09

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The Magnus Inquirer

"Remind me, how exactly have you convinced me to do this?"

Jon gave a wiry smile, not looking up from the output for the hidden camera they had planted. "I believe it was something about how cute you find me," he said, fiddling with the remote controls for the camera. "And an agreement to attend one of your poetry nights." He looked to Martin's camera, shifting on his feet from their crouch position behind the shipping containers.

Martin nodded slowly, remembering the question being asked after a particularly good date night. 

"I don't think anyone gives you quite enough credit for being devious when you wish to be, love."

One of Jon's shoulders lifted and fell in a self-conscious shrug as he adjusted the zoom on the camera Martin was holding. 

"Always good to be underestimated, Martin." 

"Right." Martin released an agreeing hum, before moving his camera from Jon's fidgeting fingers. "And how exactly do you know Vincent again?" 

"He's a good person," he reassured, but released a sigh when he could feel the sceptical arch of Martin's brow. "You know I don't reveal my connections, even to you, dear." He shifted, trying to get more comfortable where they were spending most of their night. "I'm just glad he works here."  

Jon was happy for that, but more so that Vincent still wanted to speak to him. He hadn't been sure the custom's officer would be interested, since the last article had cost him his job. Vincent hadn't been at fault, but he'd still been fired for speaking out about the embezzling happening within the shipping company. Allowing them late night access to the docks not to mention exposing any employees who were involved was by far riskier to Vincent's livelihood than breaking an NDA.

Vincent, however, hadn't hesitated. The man had already had a bad feeling about the schedules and inconsistent paperwork and welcomed Jon's help in exposing any illegal activity on the docks.

It had been lucky all around, which had been making Jon increasingly nervous for their stake out. He'd never been particularly lucky and he had the scars to show for it. Everything going so smoothly had his stomach in knots and his fingers fidgeting. As the night wore on it only increased, fingers tapping on his knee as he waited for that fateful snag in his investigation. Just as they were about to call tonight fruitless, Jon caught movement on the screen broadcasting the hidden camera.

Making the Time

Hen felt as if she was running around like chicken with her head cut off ever since her shift ended. First rushing to get the kids, then rushing to the store to get what she had planned for dinner and in the middle of it all — in the center of the condiments — a thought struck her. In the midst of all the endless options of mustard, she wondered if this was how Karen had felt when she had been studying and pulling shifts on top of school. The feeling sank her heart at how much Karen had been shouldering for so long, and how long it had been since they truly had a moment to breathe and to breathe together. It was then that she had a thought, an idea that had her hurrying through the store with the kids in tow. The moment she was clear of the cash register she dialed Chim and Maddie hoping that they could take the kids tonight on such short notice.

She shouldn't be surprised with how quickly they understood and were both more than willing to help. The couple practically met Hen at her house with the couple of items that Hen hadn't been able to get at the store and more than ready to help the kids pack for a sleep over. Maddie placed the few things they had brought in the living room for Hen to look through before making her way into the kitchen as Chim attempted to wrangle Denny and Mara.

"Wow," Maddie said, lips parting in surprise as she took in the kitchen. Brown eyes roved around the space Hen seemed to be flying about between different steaming pots, the bowl and vegetable covered island, and the preheating oven. "You really went all out, huh?"

Hen nodded, checking her sauce. "Yeah a little," she paused, looking at her best friend's wife. "Is it too much?"

"No." Maddie shook her head quickly. "Not at all. I think it's sweet."

Hen smiled wide. "Good." Maddie's smile and warmth set her at ease as she turned back to her half made salad. "Karen's been working late all month with this project and I know me and the kids are driving her up the wall." She sighed, shaking her head trying to think of the last time they had a moment alone where they weren't sleeping. "We really need a night for us."

Maddie smiled, raising her hands. "I totally get it. With the year you two have had you definitely need it." Her eyes went to the front rooms hearing her husband and the kids playing and packing for the night at their home. "I can totally relate to needing to reconnect."

Hen caught her tone looking up from the red onion she was slicing. "Hey, you let me know and Kar and I will scoop that beautiful girl right up and you too can have your night."

Maddie's eyes went to her filling appreciation instead of the longing that had been there. "Thanks, I will take you up on that," she said with a firm nod, hand going to her growing belly as she thought about it. She heaved a sigh preparing herself and moving to Hen patting her upper arm and squeezing her on her way past. "I better go check on them," she sighed, smiling fondly at the sounds of children laughing. "It sounds a bit too much like playtime instead of packing," she said with a laugh.

"Thank you again," Hen repeated with a smile.

"Anytime, Hen," Maddie said, waving off her thanks as she walked out of the kitchen.

Bang Bang, My Ritual Shot Me Down

They could feel it.

Peter didn't have to leave the room, nor check the map or a porthole. They were close to the ship that haunted Elias' waking and sleeping mind. In a few hours at most, they would reach it. Neither had said anything about it the night before as Elias shook apart under the feeling of Peter and the axe.

Elias was quiet next to him and Peter didn't dare look at him. He could feel him waiting, air thick as if he hadn't spent the past few weeks beating back the blood lust. Feeding him as best he could do, trying to keep him focused on what was most important to them. Peter blinked, staring at the ceiling as blood dried on him while the older avatar's young body drank it in.

In the quiet he wondered if it would work, if Elias would really look for him in a blood covered world. He wondered if this one would work. If perhaps the older man had learned something, found some secret that would make this ritual different from the last failed Stranger attempt only a few decades ago. Peter supposed it was rather simple compared to Jonah's first ritual, but perhaps that was better. He was sure that Conrad and the Vast folk would do nothing to interfere, and being so far out at sea would keep the Eye and other avatars away. However, unlike the Stranger's ritual, which had been thwarted by whoever was the Archivist at the time, Jonah's original ritual had failed all on its own.

"I'll be leaving today."

Of course Elias broke the quiet, shattering his train of thought with simple words and a lick of his tongue against Peter's bloody shoulder.

"Mm?" The hunter turned his head to look at him, not at all surprised to find red eyes already studying him. "Ah yes. A few hours more, I imagine." Peter turned his body slowly, turning to look at him fully. His arms still chained at the wrist tight and controlled above his head. "Don't worry you'll be rid of me soon, rid of the Lonely as well."

The older avatar hummed. "I'd much rather just be rid of them I think." He didn't look away, crimson eyes boring into Peter's blue. "Never liked the damp."

A chuckle left Peter at that. "I never have either." A gloved hand raising to touch the side of Elias' face. "The damp can be treacherous, far more than teeth," he mused, thumb trailing over blooded and swollen lips, smirking at how easily they parted under his touch.

"Easier to trust teeth," Elias agreed, tongue moving to greet Peter's gloved thumb sucking on it slightly before leaning back with a sigh when Peter's other hand gripped the back of his neck. "You can see teeth, watch how they smile and bite."

"I do enjoy how you smile."

"Mm, and I enjoy how you bite." Elias chuckled, licking his tongue over the tip of his thumb once more. "Shall I let you say good bye, just this once, puppy?"

Peter huffed, watching the curl of his tongue. "A proper good bye?" Elias nodded at his question, mouth sliding down his thumb. "You spoil me leech."

"Just this once," he assured.

35. Strays (SPN)

Sabriel, Sabriel, Sabriel. I write them so much and I really don't care. This one is a kinda human au! reverse kinda deal. Gabriel is a hunter who gets injured and Sam is an army med tech that became a Veterinarian when he came home, working late who gets roped into a case with Gabriel and Castiel. I'm thinking Castiel I'm not sure though I might do Balty cause he's fun. I think it'll probably be about a chapter or two whenever I get around to finishing it. Perhaps I'll have to give it another try soon. I do have a super rough snippet for it though!

The moment the sounds of the intruder passed, Sam was hurrying to load the weapon. The familiar weight gave his movements more fluidity and steadiness. His eyes sharp as Sam kept it aimed in front of him, making sure no one had come in behind the other, before quietly making his way down the hall to the supply closet. His feet slowed as he got closer, hearing a man curse over the rustling of plastic wrapped gauze and equipment. Sam took a steadying inhale and exhale before he rounded the doorway, aim set on the intruder before flipping on the light. "Hands up, now!" The man paused at the light, head going back and quickly lifting his left arm. "Both of 'em," Sam demanded, not looking away from the back of the shorter man's head. "Kinda hard," the other argued, turning slightly, so Sam could see how is left arm hung limply under the sleeve of his jacket. "Busted it up good." Hazel eyes went from the man to the arm without loosing his aim. "You right-handed?" "Yup," the other said solemnly. "You can't fix that yourself," Sam's eyes squinted at the blood he could see on the sleeve,"and this isn't a hospital." The veterinarian narrowed his eyes on the man who seemed ready to try to escape him, but at least hadn't made a move. "Yeah, well, couldn't exactly go there with these teeth marks, could I?" Sam frowned, looking more at the slices and marks through the man's torn apart jacket. "Turn around," he said, wanting to see more of the bite marks, curious what kind of animal could have ripped him apart this time of year. "Slow," Sam added when he moved too quickly. He slowed in his turn, and Sam's aim wavered for the first time at the man's face. A face that was familiar even through the drunken haze of two nights ago. That smirk was memorable even if it wasn't pressed up against a wall. "You have got to be kidding me," Sam huffed out a breath, he was never going drinking ever again. "Seriously?"

47. Tell me I'm a Wreck (SPN)

Guess what, its more Sabriel. I am nothing if not predictable. This one is more angst filled though with no real happy ending. Its set after they get back from the other universe but Gabriel lives. It is also set with the idea that he have had an on again off again maybe they care about each other maybe they just like fucking something that won't break so easily. Except they are both very much a bit broken and Sam wants more. This like most of my stories starts in the middle so we kinda just jump into Gabriel whisking Sam away so they can have a proper fight. As the fight goes on, they just drag everything up that has ever been a problem between them. EVERYTHING. It is a mess and no one is happy about it and its fun. I think this was born out of my idea/want for a very loud and viscerally emotional scene in a very beautiful peaceful place and that juxtaposition of setting verse people. Its in pieces right now kinda broken into different issues and in no real order yet just parts of a fight that keeps spiraling. So here's a little part of one of them.

 “Oh yeah,” Sam rolled his eyes, glaring at the setting sun in the field Gabriel had dragged him to. “Ten years ago, I envisioned myself standing alone with you in a field screaming about the same goddamn problem.” “Oh, can it, Winchester. It is not the same, and that's not what I mean, and you fuckin’ know it.” Gabriel screamed back as Sam turned away from him, looking around them at the tall grass that came up to his chest. "You're Sam freakin' Winchester, and I was hiding. How the fuck was that gonna work?"  “Sam freakin' Winchester?” he repeated bitterly, boot kicking at the ground as he rolled his shoulders. “Oh fuck you, you know what I mean,” Gabriel huffed, throwing his arms up and pacing away from him. “You're a hunter from a long line of them, even if you're looser with the nooses you're still a hunter. Back then you didn't wanna hear it but fucking look at you now, Sam,” he turned waving his arm at the hunter that rolled his bearded jaw. “You live in a bunker and run the hunter network. Heaven is being rebuilt, Jack is picking angels to come back. I'm fucking busy, and you want me to play house?” Gabriel hissed with a scoff, hating the idea of sticking around anywhere for too long after being forced to be still. “Why the hell would I stick around a place that made my grace itch? How the hell do we work better now than when the most complicated part about us was that I lied about my name, and you were a vessel, Lucifer's vessel.” “This doesn't have to be complicated! Combining fucking and talking does not have to be complicated, Gabe,” Sam snapped, turning as the sun set to look at Gabriel. “And I didn't even know I was his vessel the first time!” “Tsk, you knew you were something, Sam, don't give me that shit. You knew.” Sam glared at him, waving a hand, it didn't matter. Between the visions and the demon blood, sure he'd known, even when he hadn't known, some part of Sam had known. His glare turned from Gabriel, finding the flowers and tall grass around them infuriating as it blew peacefully in the wind. They didn't have the right to be peaceful with how much was aching within him.  “You could have told me, what would you being the Archangel Gabriel matter between us?” 

Bonus Pick - 41. Through the Woods and Home Again

Since we're talking supernatural fics I figured finishing it out with one that wasn't sabriel would be nice! Instead how about a I debriel instead. Who is surprised? I love my Gabriel. I believe this was born from one of Marie's amazing prompts. This one is a creature feature meets fairy tale au kinda situation. Very dark fantasy flavoured with a bit of horror and comedy thrown in there. It's pretty much what it says on the tin, Dean tries to make it through the woods and back home and Gabriel is... Helpful?

For the WIP/Ask Game

Here's a little snippet! Content warning for gore and animal death, Gabriel was hungry.

His horse had not found its way out. It had found its way into the belly of a thing. Dean didn't have any other words for what he was looking at. It… It was a thing that had eaten his horse. He stood staring at the too long fingers, the hunch of its back, the long neck that twisted and turned as wide golden eyes dilated and fixed on him. Its was mouth covered in blood before a tongue that was too long for its face wiped it all away.

"Well," its voice wasn't right, it wasn't human or stable. "I get two meals today. How lucky…"

Dean didn't move as it stood straighter from the half eaten corpse of the horse he had had since he was a teen. Fear shot through him, before he pressed it down with his anger.

"You ate my horse." Dean's eyes skidded around the wrong that was this thing.

"Yes," it's head ticked to the side. "It was scared and I was hungry."

"Who the fuck eats someone's horse?" He glared at it as it seemed to lean away from him, surprised at the anger that radiated off of the human before him. "What kind of asshole monster, eats someone's horse?!"

"A… A hungry one?" It stared at him as Dean all but growled at him.

"Asshole!" Dean looked over the horse before shaking his head, turning around and walking away from him with another curse. He'd have to double back and try to figure out where he was without the guide of an animal.

As he walked away he knew, turning his back on the creature was the last thing he should be doing, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't want deal with something that clearly fed off fear. As long as he was pissed off and sad about the loss of his companion, he figured whatever it was would leave him alone.

He hadn't been all wrong.

After miles of wondering through the twisting roots and thorny brambles, the creature hadn't eaten him. It hadn't left him alone, but it hadn't eaten him.

Sam had been a single father for a little more than five years, and he had a decent rhythm between work and the kids, especially now that Robin was in grade school. However, this year was the first time he had been in a relationship during the holidays that warranted rescheduling.  They had been dating for a while now, having made it official just before the start of the year. Sam had been glad that the older man hadn't gotten scared off at the mention of his two young girls and happily surprised at Gabriel’s news of a teenage son. Between both of them having children, Gabriel sharing custody with his ex-wife, they'd taken it slow. Sam had taken his time introducing Robin and his oldest daughter Lily to him and Gabriel taking his time in introducing his son from his first marriage. When they did, Gabriel was surprised that Max had gotten along so well with Lily despite the slight age difference, and managed to tolerate the youngest Winchester.  While Thanksgiving had passed easily enough with him and his two girls spending the actual day with Jessica's parents and his boyfriend Gabriel and his son going out of town to visit family. At the first mention of Christmas his oldest daughter, Lily, had been the one to ask if Gabriel and Max would be joining them. Sam didn't think twice about asking the two to stay with them for the holidays. The two had just started talking more about the long term and what their two families would be like as one, wanting to spend more time together. Gabriel had agreed quickly to a sleepover at the lawyer's larger house, finding the idea a perfect lean into attempting to live together.  When school let out and the Shurleys were packed and on their way, Sam was more than excited to welcome Gabriel and his son to stay through New Year's.  “Hey Gabe,” he beamed when the shorter man jumped out of his Jeep to meet him. Sam smiled, walking around the car as Gabriel opened the backseat. The taller man, taking a large box of ornaments from the backseat at Gabriel's direction, while bending down to steal a short kiss. Gabriel smiled into the short peck. “Hey Sammybear,” he replied, smiling at him. “Sorry we're late, but Max insisted on dragging out our old popcorn maker.” Gabriel shook his head, walking towards the back and opening the back. “You're bringing it in, Maxi.”  “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” the teenager huffed, closing the passenger’s side door and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He jerked his head in greeting to Sam before pulling the machine from the trunk. “I forgot until Lilly texted me,” he said as he lifted it out. “I promised, Robin, and I ain't listening to her cry for the rest of the year.”  “She has been talking about it all morning.” Sam smiled at the knowledge that their eldest kids kept in touch even when Max was staying at his mother's. “I figured we'd have a movie night and order out for dinner,” he suggested, waiting for Gabriel to grab their bags before walking up the walk towards the open front door. “You can wow the girls with your cooking tomorrow.”  Gabriel chuckled. “Oh, I intend to earn my keep,” he nodded to the tins resting on one of the bags.

Thanks so much for the ask dear!! Inspiring as always ~

The Dumppings of my WIP Folder

Let Me Watch (TMA)

Jonah Takes a Break (3 WIPS) (TMA)

I love you/I loved you (TMA)

Camp Cicada (Coldflash)

Three Avatars and Two Ships (2 chapters unposted) (TMA)

CS: Sing For Me (SPN)

Searching for the Sun (Clex)

The Desk in the Office (TMA)

Liminal SPN fic

It's All Geometry, Clark (Clex)

Medkink Spangel (Buffy)

4 times Jonah learned Something from the Stranger (TMA)

Opening Day (TMA)

The Hound and His Leech (master wip doc 3 wips) (TMA)

Beholding is a Clingy Bitch (TMA)

Spangel WIP - Time Travel (Buffy)

Trickster Gen Fic/Horror (SPN)

Goreswap gifts (1) (TMA)

SPN Toxic Femslash

Out of Time (ColdFlash)

Monster Eater Verse Special (SPN)

Magic (Coldflash)

Sparks (Coldflash)

Storage closet (Clex)

Always Be First (SPN)

Resurrection Bingo fills ( 3 wips in there) (SPN and Arrowverse)

Fangs and Teeth (TMA)

Craving (TMA)

Vessel Fic -Sabriel (SPN)

Greener (TMA)

Appointments (TMA)

Heat and Teeth (TMA)

Remember (TMA)

The Last of Me, Will be the Last of You (I... don't remember what this one is...)

Strays (SPN)

JonElias Gift fic (TMA)

Pinocchio and the Trickster (SPN)

Flashbacks and Nightmares (SPN)

Treat fic -Lonelyeyes +Jon (TMA)

Expanse Prompt -Vast Statement (TMA)

Through the Woods and Home Again (SPN)

I Have Notes (TMA)

Master list Monster Eater verse (4 wips in there, don't judge me) (SPN)

Cherries (I... don't know what this is either)

I Think you're Amazing (Spideypool)

Lost in Translation Part 2 (SPN)

Tell me I'm a Wreck (SPN)

Multiverse Midam Meanderings (SPN)

Roleplay Spideypool Rewrite

All of Your Firsts (SPN)

Blended Family Sabriel (SPN)

Special Sloane kisses for everyone who made it this far <3

A Luthor Reunion

"Lex?"

"In here, sis." Lex's voice called from the study.

Lena sighed, her hips swaying as she walked confidently though the Luthor Manor. It wasn't often she made the trip home, especially with Lex living here now that he was out of prison… again.

"Lex what exactly is this about?" She questioned, heels clacking down the stone tiles. "If you've called me here just to gloat about you're stock rising I-"

"I assure you it is nothing so petty," Lex said, cutting her off as she stopped in the doorway of his office. His head tipped to the side slightly. "Though they are looking up, much higher than L Corp."

Her green eyes rolled. "What do you want, Lex?" She crossed her arms under her chest glaring at him. "I do not have time to travel here just to be insulted, it could have been a phone call." Her eyes wandered around the space taking in the study Lex had taken over from their father. "At least then I could hang up on you, that's always a joy."

"I'll remember that, for the next time." Lex chuckled, moving from where he was standing by his drinking cabinet to his desk. "No, today. Today, I have a gift for you."

"For me?" Her brows pinched, gaze falling to the box in his hands, apprehension filling her as she looked upon it. "I don't think you've ever gotten me a gift." She walked closer to him, slowly looking over her half brother. "At least one that wasn't just a trap for me."

"Not a trap, I assure you," he turned, opening the box to show her. "At least not for you," he added after opening the box to reveal refined green kryptonite fashioned into a teardrop necklace, one that had matching earrings and a bracelet. "I wasn't sure if this was to your taste any longer, but I had some others fashioned if you don't like the-"

"No, it's quite beautiful Lex," she said softly, surprise coloring her tone. "Is that pure green kryptonite?"

"Of course," He looked at his ring before offering the box to her as she closed the distance between them. "I know we have not always seen eye to eye, however I hope now that you see they can't be trusted that we could… be a family."

"I have no plans of overthrowing the world with you Lex," she said, eyes snapping up to him as she held the box close to her for inspection. "One present does not fix the years of torment nor our differences."

"I am well aware, but we are siblings. With mother gone and father…"

"Killed by your hand?"

"Yes," he frowned, not refuting nor regretting it. "We are all we have, all the world has, really."

Lena studied him for a moment before looking back down to the gift. Her tongue rolled in her mouth as she thought about the gift. What accepting it would mean to her brother and how helpful it would be to keep Kara and her horrible apologies at bay.

"Is it too much to try, sister?"

Lena parted her lips and then closed them, frowning slightly. "It will take more than pretty stones, and thoughtful protection." A sigh rolled through her, closing the box and looking at her brother's put upon pout. "Let me see the others you made at least."

"You'll like them. I made them for more casual wear."

"Good lord, Lex," she huffed at his giddiness and rush towards the display he'd been standing in front of and blocking her view of since she'd entered.

"Too much?"

"Just a bit, brother." Her eyes took in the variety of styles he'd had made for her, a few that looked more suited for him and sighed. "The thought is… nice… space from her would be appreciated," she said, picking up a simple green spotted band.

"Everyone deserves space from those that betray them."

Lena's lips pulled downward at the understanding that echoed in her brother's voice, looking from the band to her brother and finding the same pain reflected in his eyes that she felt in her heart.

"I thought she was my friend… that we were… that we could have been-" She didn't allow herself to finish swallowing back the hurt she didn't want to allow herself to feel.

A hand wrapped around her shoulder squeezing it. "I once thought the same, but," his brows pinched as he rubbed his sister's back attempting to comfort and was far too unused to offering it. "Kryptonians are deceitful creatures. We must guard ourselves from them, little sister. I am sorry I did not do a better job at protecting you."

Lena swallowed her pain, blinking away the tears that wanted to escape her. "It is a lesson best learned by oneself. Like most things, Lex." She shook her head, waving him off. "And one I will not be so quick to make again, alien," her eyes slid back to Lex, "or otherwise."

Lex smiled, removing his hand from her. He raised them in surrender. "Point made and taken," he smiled at her. "You were always brilliant."

Together Forever

Kara smiled as she held tight to Lena, their lips sliding against each other in unhurried kisses. The blonde pressed closer to her as Lena led her to their bed. The brunette's hands held her close, one tangled in soft locks while the other braced the small of her back. Both solely focused on being near the other, barely noticing how their feet hoovered over the floor.

Kara broke the kiss with a smile, her arms wrapped around Lena's shoulders. "You're a quick study," she teased, blue eyes shining as bright as their matching platinum wedding bands.

Lena chuckled, voice breathy and pleased as she spoke just inches from Kara's lips. "I've always been a quick study when motivated." Her green eyes roved over the happiness blooming and shining from every corner of Kara's features. She could feel her own smile widened at the sight of her wife's happiness, knowing her own expression echoed Kara's glee. "And I'm very motivated to get you to bed," she added, closing the space between them and kissing her again.

This time the kiss was more insistent, filled with soft moans and a tangle of tongues. Bodies that were only covered in matching lingerie pressed closer together, arching and grinding against the other as they hovered near the foot end of their moonbeam soaked bed.

Kara could taste the champagne they had shared and the lingering sweetness of their cake on Lena's tongue. The reminder of the long and emotion filled day only caused the heat to build and grow within her, arching herself against the body she could no longer break. At the thought her hands gripped tighter, fingers clenching in Lena's curled hair which had been released from its carefully pinned up do and cascading over her shoulders. The brunette gasped at the strength in her lover's hands, responding in kind at the reminder that they no longer had a boundary.

The Taste of Your Scar

He'd noticed it a few times.

The way Clark's eyes would drift to his lips, when they were talking or eating. If he were younger he might have been self-conscious about Clark's lingering stares. Stares that were focused on the scar he had made himself forget long ago how exactly he'd gotten. However, he wasn't young and now, as Lex sat across from Clark in a Metropolis café, the brunette wasn't either. 

“So your classes are going well?” Lex asked the college student, tongue licking the foam from his lip and scar. His eyes lit with interest as Clark's tracked his tongue. “Are you still not going to sign up for football?” He questioned putting his cappuccino down on the table between them as green eyes stayed focused on his upper lip. “Clark?”

“Mhm,” he blinked, hiding his distraction behind a long slurp of coffee that would have been scalding for a human. 

“Classes, Clark, and football?” Lex's lips were pulled into a grin, amused at the other's distraction. 

“Oh!” He blushed, hand scraping at the back of his neck. “Classes are good and I just don't feel right about-" his words dropped off hand waving to himself in a way of explaining. "Even if I think I can… control myself. The ‘what ifs’, bother me, you know?” 

Lex nodded, a hum leaving him. “Very mature and responsible, space man. I'm sure Mr. Kent would be proud of your restraint.”

“Thanks Lex,” he said with a grin that Lex returned as Clark cupped his mug. 

“Of course,” Lex said, picking up his drink once more and smirking at the attention that easily went to his scar once more.