"Belgium?" Lex repeated, incredulous. "You want me to move to Belgium?"

Lionel waved his hand in an expansive gesture. He spoke dismissively, as if sending Lex across the Atlantic was something they had discussed and planned for years. "You've learned all you need to know in Smallville. LuthorCorp's major International Distribution Center is in Belgium."

Lex just stared at him. "I thought I was supposed to be turning this plant around. It's still in the red. I'm not done here."

Lionel sighed heavily and appealed to the ceiling before looking back at his son. "In the six months you have been here, Lex, tell me, how many times have you nearly died?"

Nine. The statistic came immediately to mind. It wasn't an answer he was going to admit to, however. "That's not pertinent to the discussion, Dad."

"Yes," the word came out louder, more forcefully than Lex would have expected, "it is, Lex. Son," the tone softened, gentled. Lex didn't trust it. "You'll be safer in Belgium."

That was almost certainly true. Again, not something he wanted to admit to his father. "I'm sure I could find trouble there, too."

"You wouldn't need to," Lionel's tone sharpened again, turning derogatory. "I've figured out your game, Lex. It's that farmer."

He meant Clark, that was obvious, but how Lionel had known Clark was involved in most of the incidents, Lex didn't understand. He'd worked very hard to keep Clark's name out of the paper on all but the most public of the mutant encounters. Earl Jenkins had been the only one Lex really hadn't managed to contain and that had downplayed Clark's involvement to no more than a fellow hostage. "What are you talking about?"

"One of these days, you're going to throw yourself into the line of fire, hoping your farmer will rescue you, like he did on the bridge, and you will have run out of luck. A pointless death serves no one, Lex." He frowned, no doubt trying to impress upon Lex how unLuthorlike it would be to get himself killed.

Lex rolled his eyes. "I'm not 'throwing myself into the line of fire', Dad," he said dryly, almost amused by the melodramatic accusation.

"Oh, no?" Lionel questioned and stalked toward the desk. He picked up his briefcase from the floor and snapped it open. Pulling out what looked like a stack of newspapers, Lionel dropped them one at a time in front of where Lex was sitting, pausing long enough between the different papers so that Lex could read each headline.

Luthor Heir and Super Boy Electrocuted

Luthor Heir Hospitalized

Luthor Heir Narrowly Avoids Fatal Fall

Luthor Heir Stops Gunman, Takes Bullet

Luthor Heir Foils Theft Ring

Luthor Heir Hospitalized (Again)

Luthor Heir Captures Fugitive

Luthor Heir Detains Murder Suspect Until Police Arrive

Luthor Heir Recovering from Wolf Attack

Lex scowled at each successive paper. They were out of order, but the point Lionel was trying to make was clear enough. Worse, it made it obvious that the Ledger still wasn't calling him by his first name. After the number of times he'd made the front page (covering for Clark left himself rather exposed to the press), he would have thought he'd at least earn that small sign of acceptance. "Your point, Dad? A few of these don't even qualify as near death experiences."

Lionel pointed out the first paragraph in the Wolf Attack article and read aloud, "Lex Luthor, 21, was again brought to Smallville Medical today after an encounter with a wild beast, believed to be a wolf. He was treated for deep gashes on his arms and torso as well as a concussion. This was Luthor's third hospitalization this month." Lex suspected he was reciting by memory as much as he was reading the words. Lionel stepped back and began pacing in agitation. "Lex, you can't keep doing this. Even the locals have noticed that you spend more time in the hospital than out of it. The farmer knows you're out of his league. Stop trying to get his attention."

On the positive side of the spectrum, Lex noted that at least Lionel seemed to have bought that Lex and Clark were following the ultimatum that they not see each other. Less promising, he seemed to think Lex was trying to break the terms of the agreement. "And you think this is about Clark? You think I, what? Want to see him so badly that I take walks in creepy forests looking for werewolves to attack me so I can scream for his help?"

Which, sadly, was not so far-fetched as he was making it sound. It was just a bit more calculated than that. Lex had discovered a pattern in the mutant attacks within a month of breaking it off with Clark (he'd had to occupy his time somehow and after the second attack against him, it seemed only prudent to study the mutants). He tested his hypothesis and found it to be valid. (This scientific method had led to "Luthor Heir Hospitalized" and "Luthor Heir Hospitalized (Again)" which provided conclusive proof that the results were repeatable.)

His secondary hypothesis, the one that postulated that Clark would appear at some point before he died, also proved true. It irritated Lex considerably that Lionel had developed a related speculation on the fact that Lex would have such a theory.

At any rate, he had discovered the secret to drawing out a mutant attack. Mostly, it involved dangling out something they wanted as bait. The more insane and dangerous mutants were interested in taking what they saw as their due to the exclusion of such things as common sense and personal safety, mostly because they believed themselves invincible.

What they wanted was simple. Mutants had very basic desires. Sex, revenge, and/or power were usually sufficient. That was why he and Lana were so popular. She got the sex seekers. As the closest to hand member of the Luthor family, Lex pulled in the revenge seekers. Lastly, money made a good representative for power, so Lex got those, too. There were, of course, exceptions to the rule. Jodi was entirely interested in body fat and not much else, making her much more difficult to predict and control. Eric hadn't technically been a mutant, so he was also tricky.

But, overall, the plan was solid. Using cell phones Lionel was unaware off, Clark would text message Lex about any suspected mutants. Lex would draw them out at a pre-arranged time and place using the desire that worked best. (He would have been severely disappointed in himself if he couldn't out-sex appeal Lana Lang when he wanted to, even to hometown country boys.) Then Clark would ambush them before Lex was seriously hurt.

Clark still needed some work on that last part, but he was getting better.

Lex's final task after the mutant had been subdued was to set the scene for the police and reporters and explain away all the weirdness. Smallville was strangely eager to accept his version of events, even when he couldn't entirely hide the physical evidence. Any close inspection would prove he was lying through his teeth but the investigations never went quite that deep. He'd almost call it willful blindness if he hadn't been almost certain they were being subconsciously obtuse instead of intentionally ignorant.

Chloe gave a different tale in the Torch, citing an 'anonymous source' that Lex knew had to be Clark, and even that had its own inaccuracies. It was spot on for the problem-causing mutant, but far less clear about exactly how the situation was resolved. Lex was pretty sure she suspected him of being a mutant, though she never printed anything of the sort. Not that anybody read a school paper anyway.

Nobody except, apparently, Lionel. "Ah, yes, werewolves," Lex's father repeated. "Quite a number of other strange creatures that most people wouldn't believe exist, as well. I suppose you think you're quite the hero, don't you?"

He actually was rather pleased with their success rate. No one but Lex had been seriously injured in a mutant attack for almost three months. He barely needed to draw them out anymore. He suspected the town was aware on some level that he was being singled out and targeted by mutants, so when they turned into one themselves, they figured there had to be some reason for that. Lex never let them doubt it.

Letting a smug smile flit across his lips, Lex quirked an eyebrow at his father, "The next Warrior Angel, Dad." Actually, that title probably fell to Clark, but that was no business of Lionel's. Besides, Clark didn't like purple nearly as much as Lex did and Lex preferred Clark with hair. Clark could be a different superhero.

Lionel straightened and frowned disapprovingly. "Belgium, Lex. I've scheduled your flight for next Tuesday." With that, he whirled on his heel and left.

Lex swore, then went for his Ferrari keys. He drove around the Kansas highways long enough to be sure he wasn't followed, then parked alongside the road. Getting out of the car, he walked a few meters away, then took out the phone he kept around for calling Clark.

He answered on the second ring. "Where?"

The mutant conversations usually held on this phone were generally short and to the point and very urgent. He almost felt guilty for calling for a different reason. "It's not a mutant this time, Clark," Lex said, half-apologetically. "Just the devil."

A sigh, though Lex couldn't tell if it was relief or something less positive in response to the mention of Lionel. "What did he want?"

"I'm apparently moving to Belgium for my health."

"Belgium?" Clark repeated. He couldn't have said 'Betelgeuse' and made it sound any further away. "Like in Europe?" Again, 'The Orion Constellation' couldn't have been more distant than Clark's tone implied the continent was.

"I'm glad the Smallville school system has taught you geography," Lex said dryly, remarking on the rhetorical question because it was easier than confirming the underlying question that asked 'you're leaving?'

"How long?" Clark asked after a moment's hesitation.

Lex shook his head and stared out over the cornfields that he had once hated but now barely noticed. "He didn't say. Presumably until I can demonstrate that I'm a worthy heir." He grimaced, "He is not impressed with my recent heroics. He believes I'm trying to get your attention."

"That's not going to cause problems with our deal with him, is it?"

With an unhappy sigh, Lex kicked at a mound of dirt. "Not if I go to Belgium."

"When?" Clark's sentences got shorter when he was upset, Lex had noticed.

"Tuesday." His weren't much better.

"Day after tomorrow." Master of the obvious, Clark was.

Lex didn't comment on that, though. He just nodded to the corn again and agreed, "Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"On the side of the interstate."

There was a dial tone. After a few moments, Clark was there. His sudden appearances no longer surprised Lex. With all their meetings lately being mutant-related, it was stranger to see him approach than for him to appear out of nowhere. "I hate your dad," he said by way of greeting.

"Join the club," Lex returned dryly. "I don't think I can get out of it. Will you at least try to protect your secret while I'm gone?"

"Lex," Clark began, reaching for his wrist. Lex stepped back and put his hand behind his back, shaking his head. Clark pressed his lips together in irritation. "Lex. You're leaving Smallville in two days. Let me hold your hand."

"One year, Clark. We promised your mom."

Clark heaved a heavy sigh. "You probably won't even be here when the year is up."

Lex understood Clark's impatience and frustration. He really did. But he was the adult with the brakes and he was going to take that responsibility seriously. "Look, we stole five months of friendship out from under Dad's nose. That was a risk, and now we're getting called on it. This could have turned out a lot worse if we were caught outright. It's too dangerous to continue now that Dad's gotten a whiff of something rotten. Frankly, it'll be a lot easier to abide by the original terms of the agreement if we're separated by an ocean."

"But I don't know when I'll see you again." Clark really could be a whiney kid when he wanted to be. Lex was almost glad his parents had made them wait.

"I promise, Clark, I will find some excuse to be in Smallville on our anniversary."

Clark gave him a weird look for calling it that, but he smiled, too, and that was the important part. "Fine," he agreed grudgingly, "but I'll hold you to that." What he could do if Lex failed to make it was left rather vague. It wasn't like Clark could afford to come chasing after him to Belgium (which was, perhaps, a large part of why Lex's father had chosen that location). Not that it mattered. Lex had no intention of missing it.

"You do that," Lex agreed with a return smile and nod. "Keep the cell phone I gave you around. I'll try to call it when I get a chance."

"Okay," Clark nodded as well, pulling out his phone briefly as if to be certain it hadn't sublimated or mutated or otherwise ceased to exist since they hung up a few minutes ago. Then he leaned forward and laid a quick kiss to Lex's forehead that Lex had no opportunity to object to. "Safe trip, Lex."

Lex nodded and let the kiss pass unchallenged. "Thanks. Stay out of trouble yourself. Get Chloe or someone to run interference with the press for you, okay?"

Clark nodded, "Yeah, okay."

Another thought occurred to him and he added, "And don't let her be a media hog like I was or Dad might get suspicious."

Clark rolled his eyes. "I don't think that'll be a problem. Chloe likes to write the headlines, not be the headlines."

Lex nodded slowly, "Fair enough." Her press pass would probably get her pretty far in explaining her presence at the astounding array of different places mutants picked as their last stands. Trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for himself to be in the woods around Crater Lake or in the fields of some recluse farmer had always been the weakest point of Lex's stories. Invariably, it made him sound like he was trying to get himself killed or maimed for no clear purpose. Chloe, at least, had journalism as an excuse.

Of course, Chloe herself would probably need to be trusted with at least part of Clark's secret, but that was Clark's decision and Lex didn't envy him it.

The 'freak accidents' that Lex occasionally talked about whenever a mutant was taken down while Lex himself was unconscious or otherwise incapacitated could probably continue to be used to explain Clark's part of the affair. Smallville was very accommodating that way. 'The tree just fell down for no reason?' 'Yes, officer.' 'And it just happened to land on his head, when he was standing a hundred yards away?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Okay, then.'

Hopefully, though, Clark had gotten it clear in his head by now that uprooting trees wasn't the best way of finding a weapon to use against the mutants. He was doing a lot better with that lately, too. "Take care, Clark," Lex reiterated. "Watch yourself."

"You, too, Lex." A hug this time, over before Lex registered it was happening. A phantom brush of lips against his, then Clark was gone.

Into the empty field, Lex said, "Goodbye, Clark." He went back to his car and drove home, already knowing the next months were going to pass very slowly.

Brussels was beautiful. The work was interesting and challenging. The employees were competent and reasonable once they got over their surprise of having the boss's son dropped in their midst overnight. There were parties and operas and museums and theater. Lex dated regularly. Dad was half a world away.

Additionally, the LuthorCorp distribution center was only one of hundreds like it in the city and Dad rarely went there personally, two factors which meant that Lex was not hated on sight, and in fact, wasn't even recognized in most places. Also, the city was the political seat of such organizations as NATO and the European Union, so the people at the parties he attended were often richer, more powerful, and more famous than he was. The only times he made the papers were when he took out a notable princess or ambassador's daughter.

He should have loved Belgium.

It was incredibly boring.

Five weeks had passed and not once had he been kidnapped, assaulted, or nearly killed. Nobody wanted to mate with him (except the girlfriends, and that was entirely different). Nobody was developing strange powers and going violently mad. Nobody wanted his help keeping the town safe.

He considered the possibility that he had become an adrenaline junkie. Skiing down the most difficult slopes in the Alps and throwing himself out of a plane with only a parachute, however, did not satisfy him, so he discarded the theory. The masochism one was likewise rejected when a broken leg from a skiing accident failed to fill the hole left by whatever was missing.

He was left with only two logical explanations. Either he missed Clark (a very likely possibility) or he missed the heroic escapades. Clark, he couldn't do anything about. He called a few times a week which was about as much contact as was reasonably possible given the distance and time difference. It wasn't nearly enough, but that was rather the point of the exile.

There was a third possibility as well, but there was even less he could do about not being the big fish in the little pond anymore. He'd just have to suck it up and accept that here he was just the American hick with inadequate French (in spite of five years of acing it at Excelsior) and worse Flemish. Hell, he didn't even speak English correctly according to most Europeans.

Heroism, though, he could attempt. It would be difficult without a big invulnerable alien to back him up, but do-able. Also, the lack of meteor mutants would make his normal tactics useless. However, if for no other reason than to eliminate all other possibilities for his restlessness, he began making plans to try out crime-fighting vigilantism. Besides, it might help out with his lack of fame and news coverage.

As it turned out, though, Lex was terrible at being a solo hero. In the one week career he made of it, he was arrested four times - public brawling, loitering, prostitution (which was a complete misunderstanding because his Dutch slang was abysmal, his French vernacular was less than par and he'd been in the red light district when he was picked up; it was changed to a second count of loitering once he got an English speaking lawyer involved), and assault. It was the two gunshot wounds that put him in the hospital and brought his life of Belgian crime fighting to an abrupt and final end.

Dad turned up in the hospital two days after the shooting and one day before his release. He normally would have insisted on getting out earlier, but it was either the hospital or the jail. According to the police, he was a walking trouble magnet and the only reason he wasn't getting charged with something for the altercation that led to him getting shot was because they thought maybe this would have taught him to keep out of the darker areas of the city. They were overestimating Lex's reaction, but Lionel's was sufficient to achieve their ends.

"I told you I could find trouble here," Lex pointed out as soon as he saw the familiar figure enter his hospital room.

"Yes, but what I don't understand is why."

Lex just shrugged. "I was bored. No mutants, no sabotage from you, nobody trying to kill me; it was all too tame for me." His tone of voice suggested he was being absurd. He figured that was the best way to ensure his father didn't realize exactly how insane Smallville had made him. He shrugged and added, "Either that, or I wanted to go back to the States and figured what worked in Smallville will work here as well. I'm still looking for a sufficiently inappropriate lover though."

Lionel closed his eyes and sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples. "Fine. Just," he opened his eyes again and looked seriously at Lex, "if I send you back to Smallville will you please stop attempting to commit suicide. Don't think I didn't I hear about the so-called skiing 'accident' or the parachuting that preceded this stunt."

Lex contained his shock and held his father's gaze as he rearranged his sheets so that Lionel could get a good look at the gauze bandages wrapped around his torso. He had no idea how his father had gotten the notion that he was suicidal, but he could certainly take advantage of it. "Depends, are you going to throw a fit if I spend time with Clark?"

Lionel's eyes obligingly lingered on the evidence of his nearly fatal injuries. Lex was surprised by the flicker of emotion that passed through them, there and gone so fast he almost thought he imagined the concern and even fear. Would have thought he imagined them, had Lionel not answered with, "Fine. I don't care anymore. Just stop trying to die, son."

Lex nodded, sealing the easiest promise he ever made to his father. "Deal."

Lionel nodded as well and started to leave. Pausing at the door, he turned back briefly, "Lex."

Sighing, because he had known that was too easy, Lex asked, "What?"

"Discretion. Please."

He could grant that, too. He didn't want that kind of publicity any more than his father did. "Of course. When do I go back?"

"I'll find out when the doctors want to release you and have the plane ready accordingly."