Title: Superconductor
Author: Drake of Dross
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Conductor (I opted for the train variety)
Notes: AU - as long as I was changing professions around, I
thought I'd lose a century or so while I was at it. Written
for Clexfest #17: Professions.
Summary: Lionel Luthor's Mountain Lion Gang picked the wrong train to rob.
Clark had been a train conductor since he turned eighteen. Before that, he'd been apprenticed to one since he was fifteen. His parents, who had found him in a Kansas field when he was still a very small child, would have liked to keep him on their farm, but he'd accidentally bent up the tracks near Smallville when he was fighting one of the Green Demons, and hadn't fixed it before the next train through went over it, got derailed, and messed up the Kansas railroad system for the next four months. Judge Ross, under pressure from the Railroad and after looking at the bent track, had deemed the damage non-accidental and the Kents would either have to pay for damages (which they certainly couldn't afford) or have Clark work off the debt.
By Clark's estimation, he'd be working for the Railroad for the rest of his natural life. Assuming he had a natural life. Bending the track like that hadn't been the strangest feat he had managed and his parents told him he fell from the heavens during the day of fiery rain. Their fallen angel, they called him, sent to them from God himself on the day they had just begun to despair that they would never have children.
He might have worried that being a fallen angel meant he was a demon, but he'd seen the Green Demons and he was reassured on that point. He worried that Smallville had to face them without him, but the rails had their own dangers.
In the last six years since he'd begun riding them, Clark had gotten the reputation among the Railroad management to have a guardian angel that protected not just him, but the entire train he conducted. Indian arrows burned to ash before they ever reached their targets. Bullets from train robbers mysteriously disappeared from the air. Impediments on the tracks just lifted up and away. On an average of two or three times a year, he would come into station with a band of Indians or train robbers tied up and ready to be jailed. The trussed up would-be attackers never knew what hit them most of the time. Clark just stammered and blushed and twitched and pretended to have no idea what had happened. But he was blessed, and his trains were blessed, so they put him on the routes most prone to attack: those that go through Indian Territory and those that carry payrolls. Clark didn't mind overmuch. It kept the passengers safer, having him there, and the constant hazard pay was going to get him out of his debt at least five years earlier than originally anticipated. Not to mention, the bounties on any of the outlaws he brought in. That was going to cut his owed time in half, easy.
It was a payroll route he was on now. Fifty thousand dollars in cash sat in the train safe, calling out to every train robber in the state of Montana that there was wealth to be gained here. The train was currently well within a region known to be frequented by the Mountain Lion Gang. The group was led by Lionel Luthor, a sharp shooter who'd been robbing trains for nearly as long as there had been trains worth robbing. He had to be incredibly rich by now. His takes were never less than $20,000. But he still kept on robbing. Word was his son was working with him now. Bald fellow. Probably close to Clark's age, though the rumors ranged anywhere from six years older to six years younger. Though known most commonly as Kid Luthor, his first name was pretty uniformly agreed to be 'Lex'. There were a handful of other outlaws associated with them, but those were the big two. The rest were just heavies to support their sharp shooting leader and the safe cracking heir.
Clark had been reading the Wanted notices on the gang since the station at Miles City. He wouldn't stop expecting them to show until the train was safe in Billings with the payroll off-loaded to the bank there. Lionel was worth $30,000 by himself, dead or alive. Kid Luthor was a measly $10,000 by comparison. But $40,000 was enough to cover the remainder of his debt in one fell swoop, and all he had to do was wait for them to rob his train. There'd even be a couple hundred left over that he could send home to his folks.
Clark stilled as he felt the cold metal barrel of a six gun against his temple. "If you're looking to collect on us, you're sadly mistaken," a cool voice spoke into his ear. "Stand away from your desk and open the safe." Clark couldn't see who had snuck up on him, but every report he'd ever heard about the Mountain Lion Gang was that they'd board loudly with guns blazing. Surely this wasn't them?
"No," he said, not afraid for his own life because, hey! Invulnerable Angel, here. He'd been shot before and it hadn't so much as scratched his skin. He was, however, a little worried about what people would say if a gun went off point blank next to his temple and it was the gun that shattered instead of his skull. But there was no way he was going to offer up the payroll on a silver platter for them.
"I don't think you understand your situation here," the voice warned. "If you don't, you die."
"It's just a Brooker 202, Dad," another voice stated. "Leave him alone. I'll crack it. Give me ten minutes." It was a ludicrous claim. The Brooker 202 had sequential action tumblers that were almost silent. You'd need to have special angel-hearing to listen to them over the sounds of a moving train. There were, however, just as ludicrous rumours that said Kid Luthor had pulled it off before. Not on a moving train, but within ten minutes.
A man a few inches shorter than Clark entered his field of vision, moving directly to the safe and kneeling down in front of it. He was dressed like a banker; black slacks, coat, and narrow tie over a white shirt. A black brimmed hat sat atop a head that a closer inspection showed was bald. He'd missed that when he checked the man's ticket earlier. He assumed the elderly gentleman he'd been sitting with was the one holding a gun on Clark now. From the wanted poster, he'd expected a wilder beard on Lionel and a less distinguished appearance from both of them.
Kid Luthor pressed his ear against the safe and started turning the combination knob, frowning in concentration. Clark could almost feel his own captor's impatience. "Make it quick, Lex. I don't like this."
Lex gave them an irritated look of his own as he sat back on his heels, pulling away from the safe. "If you don't shut up, I won't be able to hear the tumblers. And nothing's going to happen. The only person besides us who knows the train's getting robbed is right here and you've got a gun on him. Now, quiet." He turned back to the safe.
If Clark could distract them for one moment, he could get away, find the Federal Marshal up in the dining car, get back, subdue both Luthors before the Marshal got there, and get back to the dining car before anyone realized he was gone. But he couldn't just disappear when they had him at gunpoint. That would look freaky.
They were seven minutes closer to Lex's self-imposed deadline and Clark was beginning to think he'd have to do the disappearing stunt after all when he heard a jingle of spurs just outside. A peek (using special angel-vision) through the solid door of his cabin showed he wouldn't be needing to fetch the Marshal after all. In the quiet of the room, with only the sounds of the track moving beneath the train, the sound of the doorknob turning was loud. Lex startled and rose to his feet, turning to face the door as he drew his gun. Lionel's grip on his arm tightened and the barrel of the gun pressed harder against his temple. He turned them so Clark was being used as a shield.
As the door swung open, Lex took partial cover behind the safe and steadied his aim. "Step inside, close the door, lock it, and put your hands up," Kid Luthor ordered. The Marshal looked surprised, then his expression clouded into anger. Clark silently cursed when he realized the man was going to go for his gun.
Lex saw it, too. He cocked his own gun. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You'll just kill yourself and the conductor." The Marshal scowled, but he closed the door behind him and put up his hands. He didn't lock the door, but nobody said anything about the oversight. "Go on over there and stand next to, what's your name, conductor?"
"K-Kent. Clark Kent," Clark told him because there wasn't really any reason not to.
Kid Luthor's blue eyes drew back to him, looking mildly startled, possibly even a little nervous. Clark wondered if his name was getting around to the robbers as well as the Railroad. But Lex covered it quickly and turned back to the Marshal. "Go stand beside Mr. Kent, there. Dad, you've got them, right?"
"I told you we couldn't rob a train with only two men," Lionel argued.
"Three minutes. Give me another three minutes and we'll be out of here." Then he put his gun away and went back to seducing the safe to give up her combination. It was almost three minutes to the second when he sat back, smirked, and cracked open the safe door. That was when all hell broke out in the room. The Marshal elbowed Lionel in the gut. A gun went off shattering the lamp and plunging the room into darkness as the flame fortunately went out instead of spreading. More shots, two of which Clark stopped from hitting and killing the Marshal, one of which struck Lex in the leg.
When Clark righted the lamp and relit it, Lionel was bound and gagged, Lex was disarmed but missing, the safe was closed once more (apparently shut during the scuffle, possibly when Lex was hit), and the Marshal was pointing his gun around trying to find his enemy. With the light restored, the muzzle came to rest aiming at Lionel, though his eyes still sought the Kid. "Where'd the boy get?"
Clark looked around, seeing a few drops of blood on the ground in front of the safe, but the trail didn't appear to go anywhere. Even using his special vision didn't reveal his location. He'd lost track of where Lex was while he'd tied Lionel and he'd disappeared as eerily as a Green Demon. "He seems to have gotten away," Clark admitted.
"Can't have gotten far." He briefly pointed his gun at the bloodstain. "He's been hit." But no amount of searching the room, the rest of the train, or the land around the train (Clark had brought it to a stop to look for the escaped robber) showed any evidence of Lex's trail.
"The boy's a ghost when he wants to be, you'll never find him," was all the information Lionel would give on the subject. They carried on to Billings, giving up on the Kid for the time being. As the Marshal brought Lionel Luthor over to the jail, Clark returned to his cabin to get the payroll ready for transport over to the bank. He came as close to having a heart attack as he ever before had when he opened the safe and an unconscious Kid Luthor tumbled out into his arms.
He looked younger, asleep. Eighteen, maybe. No more than twenty, certainly. But it was hard to tell with folks called 'Kid'. And the bald scalp, now that his hat had fallen to the floor, only confused matters, making him look almost fragile. Clark put him on his bed and pressed a hand over his chest to make sure he was still breathing. Safes were made airtight and he'd been in there a couple of hours. But he was drawing air and his heartbeat was regular, if weak.
Next, Clark stripped him of his bloody trousers to see if the bullet had passed through cleanly, but he drew back in shock when he saw the gunshot wound looked days old instead of hours. Cautiously, Clark reached out a hand, holding it just above the unblemished skin a few inches away from the injury. He didn't feel any of the evil tingling that usually accompanied close contact to a Green Demon. That, at least, was reassuring. But if Kid Luthor wasn't a Green Demon, what was he? Another fallen angel like Clark?
He'd never heard of any other safe cracker who could break a Brooker 202 in only ten minutes, on or off a moving train. He healed miraculously fast. He disappeared like a ghost (though it was cheating a little bit to hide in a lead lined safe). Heaven knew what other gifts he might have. They were not the same as Clark's, but the Green Demons all had different powers as well. There was no reason why fallen angels would all have the same ones. The Smallville priest, the only other person besides his parents that knew the truth, had said there might have been one other that fell at the same time Clark had.
And if Kid Luthor was a fallen angel, too, Clark couldn't let him be turned over to the Billings sheriff. But he couldn't let him go either. The man was still an outlaw. He'd robbed countless trains and banks over the last couple of years. His gang had killed people. Clark found a set of handcuffs he kept around for apprehending would-be train robbers and fastened one cuff around Kid Luthor's right hand and one around a post in his headboard. Then he used angel fire from his eyes to fuse the metal so he wouldn't be able to pick his way free of it. He'd need angel strength to get free and Clark had gotten the impression that was not among the Kid's gifts.
He collected the payroll, a little worse for wear and slightly bloody after sharing a safe with Kid's injured and hiding body. He rearranged the bills so the bloody ones weren't obvious, dithered about what to do with the completely blood-soaked $100 bill that had been wrapped around the removed bullet, decided to just burn it with angel fire, then brought the payroll bags out to the deputies who would transport the money from the train to the bank. When asked whether there had been any problems, he just said that the Luthors had tried to nab it, gotten as far as opening the safe, but they'd been ultimately unsuccessful. To cover for that one bill and the other bloody ones, he said that the money had been disturbed, but looked to be all there. They'd already heard Lionel Luthor was in jail, and Clark perpetuated the story that Kid Luthor had somehow escaped capture.
He accompanied them to the bank, just to be sure it got there, then headed back to his train. The Marshal met him on the way back, generously offering a third of the bounty on Lionel for his assistance in tying the man up. $10,000 was a little disappointing after hoping to bag $40,000, but Clark wasn't going to complain. It was still a huge sum and would bring down his debt by more than twenty five percent. And he could hardly insist on half since he was just the conductor and hadn't even been armed. The Marshal was within his rights to collect all of it. So Clark told him where the money should be sent and thanked him sincerely. They parted company on excellent terms, and the Marshal told him he'd be heading back along the tracks to look for where Kid might have jumped off. Clark wished him luck, and returned to his train, where Kid Luthor was still asleep on Clark's bed.
The next station after Billings was a short span of maybe an hour, so the next two were busy with checking everyone's tickets, ferreting out any stowaways, announcing the Laurel station, checking off disembarking passengers, and repeating the first two steps as the train picked up again and carried on toward Livingston. The train would pass through there during the night and carry on to reach Helena by mid morning. Normally at this point, Clark would return to his cabin to sleep. Today, however, his bed was occupied by a train robber. For the next hour, he just dithered around, catching up on paperwork, tidying his room. He also checked that the safe wasn't unduly affected from being cracked, then occupied by a living inhabitant. Everything seemed in order. He took the time to change the combination now that Kid Luthor knew it, but after that he was at a loss as to what to do. The outlaw was still sound asleep.
Clark checked the boy's leg again, and it seemed to be almost fully healed now. Just a slight discoloration and a little bruising remained. His heartbeat was stronger now as well, and he seemed to be in a real sleep instead of simply unconscious. Deciding it wouldn't hurt the other man, Clark nudged him over and joined him on the bed. He checked the handcuffs, blew out his light, pulled the blankets up around both of them, and fell promptly to sleep.
Lex woke on a mattress lumpier than the one he was used to, in a room that shuddered and vibrated worse than any earthquake he'd felt in California. He was crowded against a wall by a body larger and firmer than any woman's he'd ever slept with before. He had gotten as far as deducing that he was on a train when he noticed the handcuff around his right wrist. After that, memory resurfaced and he was briefly overcome with the panic he'd felt just before he'd passed out inside the safe.
He expected he was going to have a problem with claustrophobia for a while now.
Then he pushed aside the panic as he recognized that he was alive, out of the safe, and apparently taken captive. That was easy enough to fix, though. He could crack safes. Handcuffs were nothing and they'd even left his left hand free. Thirty seconds and he'd be out. He was only five seconds into trying get free when he realized there was something seriously wrong with these cuffs. A closer inspection showed they'd been melted shut. He frowned and tested the give. Whoever had done this did it well. Even if he dislocated his thumb, he wasn't going to get his hand free. He'd have to break the chain somehow and find someone to cut it off his wrist.
He shifted the cuff around to get a good grip on the chain as he tested its strength. Before he could do more than give it a light tug, though, a large hand wrapped around his manacled wrist and held it still. "You won't be escaping, Kid Luthor."
Lex pressed his lips together in annoyance, more at the form of address than at being told escape was impossible. Any captor would say that. "Lex, if you don't mind," he corrected, "I'm not eight anymore." Such diminutive names were a hazard of being the son of the gang leader, he supposed, but he didn't have to take it lying down. Well, he did, because it would be awkward to sit up from this position, but that wasn't the point.
"Lex, then," his captor conceded, which was at least a minor victory anyway.
"Did my father get away?" he asked, unable to help the bitterness in his voice that he'd been left behind. He'd known that was a distinct possibility when he took cover from the flying bullets inside the safe. That really hadn't been one of his brightest moves ever, especially when an unanticipated bump on the track snapped it fully closed. He could have died in there.
"Lionel Luthor is awaiting trial in Billings."
Oh. He didn't get away. Lex . . . wasn't sure how he felt about that. Except, it didn't make sense. If Dad was already in Billings, then the train had been in Billings, and he'd been found when they took out the payroll money. So why wasn't he there, too? Unless they wanted to put them in different towns so they didn't somehow conspire together to escape. But the dark window proved that they must have already gone through Laurel as well. "So, where am I going to trial?"
His captor was silent for a long time, then he said, "You're not."
Alarmed, Lex turned to look at the man he was being held by (both figuratively and literally). It was the conductor, Kent. Lex had heard about him before. He foiled robberies just by being in the same territory. A good luck charm for the Railroads, a bane to thieves. But Lex hadn't ever heard of the man lynching anybody. Lex hadn't even done anything worthy of a lynching. He was the safe cracker, not a gunman. And Kent didn't look particularly angry with him, not like a man about to lynch somebody. "What do you mean, I'm not?" He hoped he sounded confused rather than worried.
"You're special," Kent said, and one of his hands moved beneath the blanket and squeezed Lex's inner thigh.
Lex's eyes widened and his heart rate trebled. He felt his skin go cold and a shiver rode down his spine. He'd heard about men who had such proclivities. He'd never expected that he'd be the subject of such an interest, though, certainly not from someone who was as close to a lawman as Clark Kent was. But even as terror coursed through his veins, a returned interest began to burn inside him. The man was certainly good looking, his lips fascinating, his arms strong. And if all he wanted for Lex's life was to have sex with him, Lex was willing to make that sacrifice. He turned more fully onto his back and spread his legs wider.
"The gunshot wound is completely gone," Kent continued, rubbing his thumb over the spot.
Oh. Lex flushed. He hadn't been asking for sex. He'd been drawing attention to the bullet wound Lex had forgotten he'd taken. That was almost more disconcerting. He had no idea how to respond to that. His father knew, but they never discussed it. The rest of the gang just thought it proof that the Luthors had sold their souls to the devil.
He saw the change in Kent's expression the moment he realized what Lex had originally taken his comment to mean. Shock and maybe something like revulsion. Whatever it was, he drew away quickly, taking the blanket with him as he sprang away from the bed. "What are you, Lex?" Kent asked, sounding strained. "Where did you come from?"
Lex sat up on the bed and rearranged his shirt as best he could to cover that his lower half was pretty much naked beyond his smallclothes. If he was negotiating for his freedom, it was probably best not to come across as a boywhore now that he knew that wasn't what Kent was looking for. "Depends on who you ask."
"Let's start with your father. What does he say your origins are?"
That was another thing his father didn't talk about. He'd gotten the impression that Lionel had been married at one time, but Lex had no clear memory of a mother and it was entirely possible that his assumption was just wishful thinking. He'd lived with his nanny Pamela for most of his early years, but he didn't think Pam was his mom. Pam didn't speak of his mother either, though. But then, she hadn't spoken of Lionel either until she started getting sick. Lex shook his head. "He doesn't say."
"This," Kent said, stepping cautiously closer and brushing his fingers lightly across the skin of Lex's bare scalp, "Were you always like that?"
Another thing that was never spoken of. He was bald. Get over it, live with it, and don't let anybody get away with belittling him because of it. "As long as I can remember."
Kent nodded as if this were what he expected to hear. Tentatively, nervously, he sat down on the edge of bed beside Lex. "Are you a fallen angel?"
Well, that was the nicest way he'd ever been asked if he was of the devil. He shrugged, watching Kent warily for any indication he was about to burn him as an unholy creature. But Kent had seen the way he'd healed. There was no logical explanation for that, no way to deny it happened. And the truth was, with his father being so tight lipped about why Lex was the way he was, Lex just didn't know. He certainly wouldn't put a deal with the devil beyond his father. "Some people say so."
He was surprised when Kent smiled. "Me, too." He looked out the dark window, and lay back down beside Lex. "Morning's still a few hours off. We'll talk again then. For now, sleep." He nudged Lex back onto his side and curled up behind him. Still chained to the bed and not knowing how else to respond, he did nothing to protest the arm that snaked around his waist.
Sleep would be impossible. Nevermind that he'd slept for God knew how long already. Even if he'd been tired, he wouldn't be able to drop off. Not with a self-proclaimed demon in the same bed. Not when said male demon was pressed up behind him. Not when it didn't make sense.
Kent had just said he was from Hell and that was a bit shocking coming from anybody, nevermind the thief-bane conductor. Certainly, it was unusual, how many robberies had been foiled on Kent's trains, but surely a demon wouldn't protect people and their property. Unless one of the Railroad men had sold their soul. That could almost make sense. But Kent didn't feel evil. Lionel did, on occasion, but Kent felt the opposite. Good, like a real angel, not a fallen one. Unless he was getting his mythologies mixed up. "Could you go back and explain the fallen angel thing?"
Kent smiled against the back of his head, he could feel it. He also squeezed his arm around Lex briefly just as he began to explain, "We're not from Earth, Lex. We have abilities normal people don't." Okay, that implied, yes, it was Kent himself protecting his own trains, but not because of a Railroad man's corruption. He'd heard about the kinds of events Kent's 'blessing' presence created. And if it wasn't God doing those things, then it was Kent himself. Those were some very impressive powers. Far more than Lex's little healing gift.
"Abilities like what?" Knowledge was power and right now it was looking like his life belonged to Clark Kent so it was only prudent to learn as much about him as possible.
Kent continued to hold him as he explained what he could do, "I can shoot fire from my eyes, I can freeze a lake by breathing on it, I see through walls, bullets don't hurt me, I can run faster than the wind, and I can uproot a tree with one hand."
"Oh," Lex said, because, really, what was there to say? Kent might as well be the devil. Lex was just as powerless by comparison. He could safecrack and heal any injury in a day. He was more than a little outclassed. "Did you?" he wiggled his right wrist so the handcuff jangled.
Kent looked at it, then grimaced as if mildly embarrassed. "Um, yeah. I don't want you escaping." Even if he did get out of the handcuffs, though, the freedom would only be an illusion. He'd never escape unless Kent wanted him to. He believed the 'angel' or whatever he was could do everything he said he could, and probably more besides. He could be lying, just to cow Lex out of trying to escape, but he really didn't think that was the case. So he just closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.
He tried to convince his body that the arm around him was just there to hold him hostage. Kent was strong enough to lift trees. Surely, that meant the arm was a secondary chain, far stronger than the handcuff around his wrist. That, or Kent was just trying to make them both comfortable on his very narrow bed. Given how Kent had reacted earlier, those were the only possible reasons for his closeness. There wasn't anything sexual about it. There couldn't be. Kent clearly wasn't into boys and Lex liked women. That was the way it was. End of story.
But his stomach still trembled whenever Kent's fingertips twitched against it. He still felt a jolt like lightning when Kent's flannel covered leg rubbed against his own bare skin. The unanswered question of whether that was a fold in the sheet's fabric or Kent's crotch that occasionally brushed lightly against the small of his back drove him crazy until he finally, finally, drifted back to sleep for real.
Clark woke with a sleeping Kid Luthor in his arms. It was . . . nice. Sort of. The Kid's weight was pleasant and warm, his heartbeat steady and comfortable. The body felt good against Clark's. He liked it. He rubbed up against it and liked that even more. At least, he did right up until he remembered the body he held belonged to a male train robber.
As an angel, Clark had always paid particular attention in church and he knew it was wrong to feel this way about another man. On the other hand, he was an angel, and it wouldn't feel this right if it was wrong, would it? And Lex was an angel, too, and he'd felt it as well, if Clark had read his body language right during that predawn conversation. On the third hand, Lex was a train robber and a safe cracker, so clearly angels could do bad things. But Clark had been found by good parents, while Lex had been found by Lionel Luthor and the Mountain Lion Gang, so it might not be entirely his fault. Perhaps he could ask Lex when he woke up.
Oh, wait, he was awake, if the tension along his spine and the now wild pounding of his heart was any indication. Clark realized belatedly that his fingers had been trailing up and down the smooth exposed skin of Lex's outer thigh. He stilled them by pressing the hand against the firm muscle there. Lex's breath hitched. Distracted and intrigued by that response, Clark slid his whole palm down toward Lex's knee, then back up the leg when he couldn't reach any farther in that direction. Lex's pulse and breathing both became erratic, increasingly so as Clark's hand drew nearer his backside. Clark stopped his hand just shy of Lex's ass, mostly because he ran into smallclothes and he was unwilling to leave the smoothness of bare skin. He changed directed and followed the same path down again.
"Thought you weren't into guys," Lex got out, sounding hoarse.
"I'm not," Clark said, despite all evidence to the contrary. Then he was hit by an epiphany. He'd never been attracted to hardly anyone before. Just Lana, back in Smallville. And now he was attracted to Lex, too. He'd always had a long standing belief that Lana had to be an angel like he was, even if she didn't appear to have any powers. Now, he was sure of it. Because Lex was an angel as well. "You're an angel like me, Lex. We're not like humans."
But Lex shook his head, and shuddered as Clark's hand shifted directions again and slid along the back of his thigh, up toward his ass again. "I-I think you're mistaken."
Clark's voice dropped to a lower register as his hand slipped between Lex's legs and brushed at the inner thigh where the bullet wound had been. "How else do you explain this?"
Lex thrashed and cursed at the touch. Clark was beginning to wonder whether the smaller angel was enjoying the attention or being tortured by it. He rolled Lex onto his back and checked out his crotch. With him wearing nothing but smallclothes, Clark was reassured to see that 'enjoyment' was definitely the net result. "'This' what?" Lex gasped out and blushed scarlet when he saw where Clark was looking, which just set Clark to blushing back. He distracted himself by focusing on Lex's shirt and began to unfasten the buttons there. Lex made no attempt to stop him, which further reassured him that Lex wanted this, too. "The biological imperative to mate? I assure you, that's strictly human."
Clark stopped long enough to look down at Lex and see he really had no idea what Clark had meant. "'This'" Clark corrected, "your ability to heal a gunshot wound faster than it takes you to realize you have one."
Lex's blue eyes blinked in momentary surprise. Clark wasn't sure if that was from the sudden memory of being shot or in response to Clark nudging Lex's legs apart and shifting on the bed to sit between them. The smallclothes had to come off next, and taking them off the normal way was going to be awkward with Lex still on his back and one hand cuffed to the bed. So he just tore them off. Lex jerked and swore, and stared up at him with eyes wide as saucers. His dick clearly enjoyed the show of strength, though.
"I-" Lex began, but it came out a squeak, so he started over, "I was always told it had more to do with demons than angels."
Clark shook his head. "That's not possible. I've met demons. You're nothing like them. Tell me something, Lex," he paused long enough to decide that Lex was going to need an entire new wardrobe anyway so there was no reason not to just rip his shirt off. He waited until Lex acknowledged he would answer, then carried through with his plan. He ignored the cursing and checked a different source for Lex's true opinion on the feat. He smirked when he saw the tip of Lex's dick glistening with pre-come. Good. "Do enjoy being an outlaw?"
"Not answering that," he gasped as both of Clark's hands began exploring his now fully exposed body. He was really very responsive. He didn't seem at all the same man who had, less than a day ago, walked into this room with complete assurance that he could break the safe in ten minutes. He was, though, and his non-answer confirmed as well as a 'yes' would have that, given the option, he'd probably go back to his old life.
Lex reached his left hand toward his dick, but Clark caught him by the wrist and pressed it firmly against the mattress over the Kid's head. "Keep that there." To his surprise, Lex bit at his lower lip and gripped his right wrist just below the handcuff. He hadn't really expected to be obeyed.
"Just to clarify," Lex interrupted before Clark could revise his question to something Lex might answer. His voice was strained and his words were interspersed with sharp breaths and gasps as Clark worked his hands over him, but he appeared determined to summarize the situation. "You think you are an angel because you have incredible abilities. You think I am an angel because I heal insanely fast and I apparently don't qualify as a demon. You think angels are sexually attracted to each other. Furthermore, since you believe we are both angels, you find it perfectly acceptable for us to have sex. And lastly, I am apparently even further from normal than I thought I was because that's starting to sound like an excellent idea. Am I missing anything?"
Clark thought about it for a moment, but it seemed both concise and accurate, if a little doubtful of his conclusions, but he shook his head anyway, "I don't think so."
"Okay, now, based on that, I have two questions."
It seemed only fair to answer his questions since Clark had a bunch more he wanted to ask. "Go ahead."
"'Why aren't you naked yet?' and 'Are we jumping right to the sex or are we going to do handjobs first?' Because, I think you should know, I haven't done this before."
Clark's mouth went suddenly dry and his manhood was suddenly straining against his normally loose night clothes. He very nearly lost control of his angel fire, which he hadn't done since he was sixteen and visiting Lana during one of his brief stays at home, but thankfully it didn't quite go that far. He did use angel speed to get himself naked, though. Lex's eyes opened wide, first in shock at the speed, then in appreciation. Clark was gratified to know that the Kid liked what he saw.
"I retract the first question," he drawled, which was just as well because Clark's answer would have had to be 'because I forgot I wasn't'. It was a very good thing Lex had brought it to his attention before he embarrassed himself.
Clark's eyes fastened on Lex again, laying there on his bed, his pale skin and complete lack of hair making him seem almost ethereal. He looked like an angel far more than Clark himself did. "You're so beautiful," Clark told him. He moved his hands to slide along the Kid's inner thighs, gently pushing them further apart. Pressing them upwards as well, exposing the small hole behind the ball sac.
"Oh, God," Lex breathed, his heartrate jumping suddenly. "It's going to be the sex, isn't it?"
He could tell the Kid was far more terrified than he was trying to let on. Had been, Clark belatedly realized, for most of his explorations that morning. "Tell me to stop and I will," he promised, but he moved closer between the Kid's legs and his right hand drifted in without waiting for a response.
"Holy fuck!" Lex shrieked with a full body jerk as Clark's fingertip brushed lightly against that tiny hole. When his back hit the mattress again, his breathing was harsh, his eyes blown wide, and he was trembling all over. He had also just come. Clark couldn't help smirking down at him. He hadn't even touched Lex's dick. And given they were both angels, it was an interesting choice of words to use.
He had only had a brief touch, but the contact had told Clark two important things. Lex was very dry back there, and it had barely any give to it. There was no possible way he was going to fit without either hurting Lex severely, or working him up to being ready to accept Clark's fullness. There wasn't time for that before Clark had to start making his morning rounds.
He rolled Lex over onto his stomach and laid three quarters of his weight onto his back. His dick settled nicely between the Kid's ass cheeks. "We're going to work up to sex," he spoke softly into Lex's ear. "For now, I'm just going to rub against you until I come. Are you alright with that?"
The panicked tension that had prompted Clark's explanation of what he was doing drained away from the body beneath him. The bald head nodded. "Yeah," Lex whispered his assent.
As Clark began to rub, he soon found that if he angled himself just so, he could slide between Lex's buttocks, brush just over the hole that was his ultimate goal for another time, and end with a poke against Lex's ball sac. Within two such thrusts, he had Lex writhing, bucking, cursing, and begging for him to do it again. It was incredibly satisfying. It felt right.
As he felt his body getting ready to finally release, he carefully lined himself up against the small hole, pressed his slick and leaking tip against it and pushed, just a tiny bit, not enough to push the whole head inside, but enough to open it fractionally. That was more than enough to send him over the edge and shoot his load. Beneath him, Lex jerked in surprise, but Clark was making a downward thrust and there was nowhere for him to go but up. His motion pushed Clark just far enough inside that most of his load spilled into Lex's body. Lex screamed, partly in pain, partly in shock, and partly because he was coming again as well.
Clark pulled away and got off the bed, moving away to find a cloth to wipe his tip dry, then he dressed for the day. Lex . . . Lex would need more than a cloth to get clean. He looked back toward the bed a little nervously, hoping the Kid wasn't too angry about the liberty he'd just taken.
He wasn't angry, at least. He was, however, staring at Clark with a terrified look in his eyes. Guilt assailed Clark and he hurried back to the bed, sitting carefully on its edge, trying not to either spook Lex or sit in any of the come. "Are you all right? Did I, are you, what's wrong? Can I fix it?"
Lex sat up. It was an awkward process since one wrist was still chained to the bed, but he managed it with surprising grace. With his free left hand, he reached behind him, spread his legs for a moment, and brought his hand back, one fingertip slick with come. He looked at it, looked at Clark, looked at his finger. His heart was pounding loud enough for Clark to hear it without using angel hearing. After he stared at his finger for what seemed interminable seconds, he looked at Clark again. "I've got come up my ass."
Clark swallowed hard, feeling like scum after he'd promised no real sex this morning, but the fact couldn't be denied. "Yes."
Lex looked nervously up toward the roof of the train car. After another long tense moment, he said, "Well, I haven't been struck down, so I guess we're either both angels like you said, or neither of us is."
Clark beamed at him, relieved that the terror had been over anticipated divine retribution and not the sex, or almost sex, or whatever it was they'd just had. He was glad, too, that Lex was finally accepting that they both had a destiny beyond that of normal humans. "I know I am, and I know you are, too, Lex," he assured him. "Promise me you'll give up robbing people and I'll uncuff you right now."
Lex looked at him in surprise. He pulled at the handcuff, though whether the action was meant to remind himself it was there or to test his likelihood of escape without making the promise, Clark couldn't guess. "You don't think I'd lie?" he sounded more bewildered than anything else.
Holding his gaze, Clark shook his head. "Not to me."
"I," he began, then grimaced and looked away. "Fuck. I'll just stay handcuffed a while longer."
Clark let out a breath, uncertain if he was disappointed that the promise hadn't been given, relieved that he hadn't been wrong about Lex being able to lie to him, or glad that Lex would be staying in his custody a while longer. Perhaps all of them. "I see. Can you wait half an hour for food and a bath?"
"I think I'd prefer the bath first, but yes, I can wait."
Clark nodded. "Good. I'll do my rounds, then I'll be back here as soon as I can."
Lex was just as glad Kent had left. He needed time to himself to regroup. In the last twenty-four hours, his entire world had turned on its ear. Unable to move too far from the headboard, he sat curled up in the corner where it met the wall. With all his clothes torn into tatters or caked with blood, he wrapped a blanket around himself, careful to arrange it so that none of the wet spots were directly against his skin.
That protected him from the morning chill of the room, but he was still acutely aware of his nakedness. Still acutely aware that the stickiness inside him was another man's semen. Still aware of the metal handcuff, but that was mostly because it had scraped into his skin when he'd been thrashing around beneath Kent, and now that the adrenaline and hormones were fading away, he was becoming aware that his wrist hurt.
He focused on that, because it was only thing he was currently able to do anything about. Usually he left his healing ability to do its own thing, but he'd discovered through trial and error (and way more bullet holes in his body than he really wanted to think about) that he could focus on an injury and make it heal even faster. What he was currently looking at was nothing more than a little scraped and bruised skin, so he had it dealt with in under a minute. The rest of his world, though, that was still broken.
His father was in jail to begin with. Unless he somehow escaped, he'd probably hang. That would have shaken him even if everything else stayed normal. As adversarial as their relationship sometimes got, Lex didn't want him to die. Even beyond being his father, Lionel was his partner. Granted, Lex was very much the junior partner, which his father was sure to point out at every opportunity, but still partners. Had Lex been free, he'd currently be planning the jailbreak.
He wasn't though. He twisted his wrist just to hear the metal chains clank together. He'd been without oxygen for too long in that safe, it must have made him partially insane. That was the only logical explanation he could come up with for not taking Kent's offer. One promise and he'd be free. It wasn't that he couldn't lie to Kent. Hell, even if that had been the case, jailbreaking wasn't robbery. Once Dad was safe, he'd deal with the consequences of a promise made to an angel, if, indeed, that was what Kent was.
Instead, he'd declined the opening. He couldn't explain that one except by madness. Or perhaps he had died in the safe and everything since wasn't really him. It certainly hadn't felt at all like his old life. In his old life, he had fancy clothes. Here, he had none. In his old life, his healing ability was viewed with nervousness and distrust. Here, it meant he was an angel (Lex was not discounting the possibility that Kent was perhaps more mad than he was). In his old life, he was the son and junior partner of the most successful outlaw in the West (or so Dad claimed). Here, he was a wanted man, a prisoner, with a condemned father and a life and heritage of crime behind him. In his old life, he enjoyed the soft warmth of saloon girls. Here, he sat naked in another man's bed with drying semen inside his body. In his old life, he anticipated the next job, relishing it for both its challenge and the risk. Here, he anticipated Kent's next sexual advances, perfectly aware that it will end with his body taking, not just the ejaculate, but Kent's entire length. In his old life, that thought would have horrified and terrified him. Here, it still terrified him, but instead of horror, he felt what he imagines a moth feels when it decides it must fly into a flame: an inevitability, a curiosity, a need.
He couldn't leave until he'd immolated himself, and that was why he was still chained to the bed instead of on his way back to Billings and to his father. It was madness.
He'd always been rash and emotional. Those were faults his father constantly brought up. This was a whole new level of rash, a new height of emotional. All logic told him he should have given the promise, got the hell off the train, and returned to his responsibilities as son and partner to Lionel Luthor. Yet, here he was, chained and naked on a bed, and why was that?
Because in those two quiet hours of sleep, between when he and Kent first spoke, and when they began their sexual explorations, Lex had felt safe for the first time in his life. A quiet simple feeling that he'd never experienced before that could be perfectly described in the words: 'this is nice.' It had been peaceful and good in the way that he expected Heaven should be. It was why he was entertaining the notion that Kent was right about the angel business.
Lex wanted to find that feeling again. He could feel it lingering here, in this cabin, just waiting for him to reclaim it.
Free, he would be obligated to go back to Billings. Chained, he could stay without guilt. He twisted his wrist and listened again to the quiet clank of the metal links. The guilt was not completely banished so he yanked at the restraint, proving to himself once more that he wasn't going anywhere.
The movement also succeeded in distracting him. His ass itched. He smelt like a whore but without the heavy perfume to mask the scent of sex and sweat. He wanted his bath now. Where was Kent?
Clark had known, on some level, that leaving Kid Luthor alone and conscious was a bad idea. The Kid was rumored to be quite ingenious. Unfortunately, he'd found a few people in the dining car getting ready to start a brawl over the last sausage and he'd been unavoidably detained for another twenty minutes beyond the original thirty he'd been planning to spend on his rounds sorting that out and trying to get more sausages cooked. It would not have surprised him to return to his room after that length of time and find his headboard sawed through and the Kid gone. Disappointed him, yes, surprised him, no. That wasn't what he found though.
The bed was no longer beside the wall. It was now directly in front of the safe. Lex was wearing a pair of Clark's pants and he was half-wearing one of Clark's shirts (he hadn't managed to get his handcuffed arm through the sleeve). The safe door was open. Lex was sitting on the side of the bed, still attached to it, calmly going through the safe contents. He looked up at Clark as he heard the door open, greeted him calmly with a "Hey, Kent," then went back to whatever it was he was doing.
Clark stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
Still working away at his self-appointed task, Lex made a vague gesture over his shoulder. "I hope you don't mind. I found the canteen of water in your desk and used a handkerchief to wash up. I'd still like a bath, but I can wait until after breakfast now." He shook his right hand, making the handcuffs clatter, "Oh, and do you mind letting me out for a moment so I can finish getting dressed?"
For a moment, he tried to understand only what he'd just been told, so as to comprehend the scene one piece at a time. Then he shook himself out of his funk, crossed the room, and knelt down on the other side of the bed, directly behind Lex's back and grabbed hold of his right wrist as it dropped back down to his side. Lex startled at the touch and his facade of casual disinterest shattered. He went suddenly tense and his heart rate spiked.
Clark just used his angel strength to snap open the cuff around Lex's wrist. When Lex did not immediately begin moving, he put the arm through the sleeve himself, settled the too-large shirt on Lex's shoulders as best he could, and then buttoned him up. Then, he took the wrist back, and held the deformed cuff against it. "I don't have to put this back on. Will you give up robbing banks and trains?"
Lex's whole body looked brittle as he shook his head no. Clark grimaced, sighed, and closed his fingers, bending the metal back around the Kid's wrist. Then he used angel fire to weld the two ends back together. He then blew on it to keep it from burning Lex when he let it go. He must have hit a larger target area than he was going for because Lex shivered.
Releasing the arm, he got up from the bed, moved around to the other side and sat down beside Lex. He looked down at the valuables various passengers had opted to store in the train safe and asked on a sigh, "What are you doing?"
"Inventory and appraisal." He picked up a diamond ring in his left hand and held it up for Clark's inspection. "This is a fake." He put it back down onto the tray and picked up an ornate earring, "This is hideous. The individual stones will sell for more individually than the piece as a whole will." He put that down beside its twin and picked up an emerald cufflink next, "This is stolen property. If I remember correctly, the man who currently claims the set is a crooked banker from St. Louis. Is he on the train?" He returned that to the tray as well without waiting for Clark's response. "Overall, I'd put the whole lot at around ten thousand dollars, but most of it's not worth stealing. I can see why Dad only goes after payrolls on trains." He put the tray back into the safe on its shelf and kicked the door closed.
Clark took a moment to use angel vision, but Lex hadn't secreted any of the valuables on his person or into the bed sheets. "Why were you doing an inventory?" he asked, more out of baffled exasperation than because he expected an answer.
"I got bored." Right. He should have known that. Put a safecracker in the same room as a safe with nothing else to do, he's going to open the safe. "You changed the combination on me," Lex added, pretending to be offended, but he didn't hold onto it very long before he smirked. " Thanks, that made it more fun."
Clark was definitely going to need to come up with a way to entertain Lex when he couldn't be in the same room. He also made a note to change the combination again later, not that it seemed likely to do him any good against Lex. With a sigh, he gestured toward the empty space where the bed should be but wasn't. "I'll get us breakfast. You think you can get the bed back and not cause any more trouble while I'm gone?"
Lex looked wounded. "I wasn't causing trouble."
Clark hadn't even gotten around to worrying about how he was going to explain Lex to the marshal that would be joining the train at Helena yet, and already the Kid was proving to be more difficult to keep than originally anticipated. "Just stay out of the safe," he re-phrased, careful to keep his voice even and full of patience. It wasn't the other angel's fault he was raised by a band of wild Mountain Lions.
He still looked hurt, and perhaps even a bit rebellious at the order, but after a moment, he nodded. "Until you get back with breakfast," he qualified.
"Good," Clark agreed. Good enough, anyway. He couldn't expect instant reformation. He'd take it in tiny steps if he had to. Still, it was probably best to make it a really quick trip to the dining car and back. He seriously doubted opening the safe was the only kind of trouble Lex could get into.
Lex had only just gotten the bed back in place when Clark returned with breakfast. They ate sitting on the bed and the meal had nearly passed without incident, when Clark brought up a new problem. "We've got another payroll getting loaded at the next stop, and with it comes a marshal. How are we going to explain you?"
Lex grimaced. "I don't suppose the truth would work, would it? You found me hiding in your room and took me prisoner?"
Clark shook his head. "He'd expect me to drop you off at the nearest sheriff's office."
"You could be taking me to California. They want me more than Montana does. I've a twelve thousand dollar reward there instead of only ten."
Clark frowned, still shaking his head. "Two thousand is hardly worth the extra risk of you escaping between here and there. Besides, he'd still want to send along some deputies to be sure you don't get away. I was thinking along the lines of disguises."
Lex blinked, then stared at him. "Now, that is harboring a fugitive. You do that, and we'd both go to jail if the marshal catches on."
"We'll just have to make sure he doesn't catch on, then. You're an angel, Lex. I'm not going to let them hang you."
That kept him quiet. The fear he'd carefully avoided since realizing he was in the hands of a man who, by all rights, ought to turn him over to the law reared its ugly head. He hadn't killed anyone himself, so he'd probably just get a prison sentence, but he was Kid Luthor. There was every chance he'd be hung based on his last name alone. Kent must have seen something of his thoughts in his expression because he put their empty plates aside and took Lex's left hand in both of his and said earnestly, "You're safe here, Lex. I'll make sure of it."
Lex looked aside and laughed nervously. "So I can be your prisoner but nobody else's?" Which wasn't the problem at all. What scared him to death was that he believed the conductor, that he needed to believe the conductor. That he wanted that promised safety the way a dying man in the dessert wants water.
Clark continued to gently massage Lex's captive hand. "You're only my prisoner until you reform." He sounded so convinced it was possible.
Lex laughed again, this time with hopeless disbelief. Reformation. That would never happen. "So I can be your prisoner but nobody else's?" he repeated. Not that he seriously minded. He'd much rather be Kent's prisoner than anyone else's. The bitter fact remained, however: he was a prisoner, and would probably remain so for the remainder of his life.
With a sigh, Clark nodded. "Yes." They fell into a brief silence during which Lex wondered if he should try to take his hand back. He was still debating it when Clark resurrected the original topic, "So do you have any good ideas for disguises?"
He seemed to be overlooking something critical. Lex shook his right wrist again to remind them both of why any disguise was doomed to failure. "I'm chained to your bed, Kent. The Marshal's going to notice that."
"Then give me your parole. Promise not to escape." He looked so earnest, like he believed Lex would do it if he just asked convincingly enough.
"I can't do that." Just as desperately urgent, as Lex willed Clark to understand that his father's life stood in the balance. It was hard enough not to just lie. Given a free path, he wouldn't be able to resist running back to Billings.
"You want to go to federal prison that badly?" Clark demanded, venting some of his frustration. "I'm trying to help you, Lex."
"I know," Lex snapped back. "And I'll give you my parole when my father is either dead or free. Until then, I have to try to save him."
Clark's eyes opened wide. "Oh." A look of troubled conflict crossed his face briefly before he shook his head. "I can't help you with that, Lex. Lionel Luthor killed too many people."
Lex had never even considered the possibility that Clark Kent might even entertain the notion of helping with the jailbreak. All he could do was stare at him, dumbfounded. "Kent. Clark," Lex shook his head to hopefully knock his thoughts into some sort of coherency. "I'm not asking you to."
"I know, but he's your dad, and I'm not letting you try to help him."
Lex sighed and shook his head. "Look, I doubt I like him much better than you do. He's arrogant, controlling, patronizing, manipulative, and entirely too blasé about killing people for me to be comfortable with. Being your captive is my excuse not to try to break him out. But as soon as I don't have this," he shook his wrist again, "I'll be obligated to go after him."
Clark nodded thoughtfully, probably not fully understanding what it was like to have a notorious outlaw for a father and partner, but accepting Lex's words and running them through his mind. "What about a disguise where I'll be holding you for most of the time? Is that sufficient restraint?"
Lex shook his head, "I can't think of any reason for you to be holding me that much."
"I could if you were my betrothed."
Lex stared. "Clark. I'm a guy. Even if you're right about the angel thing, you can't get engaged to a guy."
Clark squeezed his hand and looked pleadingly into Lex's eyes. "Lex. Work with me here. You need a disguise. Nobody's going to look for Kid Luthor under a dress and a lady's wig."
Oh. His eyes widened. "No," Lex shook his head, vehemantly, "not happening. No way, Clark ."
"Do you have a better idea?"
Lex had no idea what the little Chinese woman was saying about him to Clark, but Clark was nodding and gibbering back to her in the same language. Both of them looked at Lex frequently so he had no doubt he was the subject of the conversation. She shook her head and made a negative sounding noise, which Lex hoped meant she wouldn't do it. Clark's tone turned wheedling, and she threw up her hands and gestured for them to go inside. So much for that hope.
As Clark ushered him inside, he murmured in a low voice, "She doesn't have anything in your size, but she thinks she'll be able to make a few adjustments to get a passable ensemble for you before we need to be back at the train. I'll be able to pick up a better one tonight that you can wear tomorrow."
Lex grimaced, then grumbled, "Where did you find this lady anyway?"
"Oh, we're in San Francisco."
California. Lex hated California. This only confirmed what he'd felt for the state before. But that hadn't been what he meant. "Let me rephrase that. Why is this lady putting up with your insane request?"
Clark quirked a bright smile. "I saved her son's life when some train robbers tried to shoot him. She's liked me ever since."
Right. Because he was Clark Kent, thieves' bane. "You don't think she'll tell anyone about this?"
"Most of the women in Chinatown will know," Clark said dismissively, "but it won't go any further than that. And all they'll know is some crazy American boy is dressing up like a girl so he can marry his lover."
At Lex's wide-eyed look, Clark just shook his head, "What, did you think I'd tell her the truth?"
She jabbered something at them, and Clark led toward the block of wood she had pointed at, "Step up on to this." Clark solicitously helped him do so. Or, at least, that was probably what it was supposed to look like to Chinese seamstress. What he was really doing was keeping a firm hold on Lex at all times like he had promised the disguise would allow him to do.
The lady didn't appear to care one way or the other, and she set right to work taking his measurements. She gave another smattering of unintelligible words toward Clark, who answered with something that made her nod slowly and respond grudgingly. "What?" Lex asked for a translation. At the first opportunity that presented itself, he was going to learn Chinese.
"She asked if we were going to commission her for your wedding dress."
Lex felt himself flushing in mortification. "What did you tell her?"
"First we want to see how well you can handle playing a woman. She said that was probably wise."
For the first time, Lex wondered what had become of his gun, but then he dismissed the thought when he remembered it wouldn't do any good against Clark anyway. The Chinese woman spoke again, and Clark grinned at Lex. "She's offered to help you learn how to move less like a man."
The next five minutes spent taking his measurements would have been comfortably familiar from any number of fine suits he'd had tailored for him, except the measuring was interspersed with incomprehensible Chinese advice that was duly translated by Clark into understandable if unwelcome feminine tips. He paid attention though, and nodded, and followed each instruction because he did need to pull this off believably if he didn't want to put both himself and Clark into jail.
Within twenty minutes of their arrival, the little Chinese lady had him in petticoats, a dress, a wig, makeup, and women's shoes and was having him walk around the room. He could already understand the Chinese words for 'No!' 'Not like that!' and 'Acceptable.' Finally, she nodded reluctantly, and spoke to Clark in rapid-fire words that Lex didn't have a change against.
Clark grinned at him, "She said she's seen worse brides."
Not wanting to get shouted at again in words he didn't know, Lex forwent glaring and opted to lift a newly sculpted eyebrow instead. "Naturally, love," he said in a soft voice that didn't sound masculine like his normal full voice did. Clark laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist (which was strange because he could barely feel it through all the layers of clothes between them now) and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. "Careful," Lex chided, in that same softer voice, "don't smudge my face." Or screw up the wig, but with any company around he wouldn't be permitted to mention he was wearing one.
The Chinese lady nodded approvingly and chattered something that was probably 'good bye and good luck' as she pushed them out the door. As they stepped off her front stoop, she called one last thing after them which make Clark grin and turn around to say something back. Then without warning, he abruptly swooped Lex up into his arms and walked further down the street. "She told us to come back when we needed that wedding dress. She likes you."
Lex made a noncommittal noise, then stated, "You're going to need to teach me Chinese."
"If you'd like," Clark agreed, just before turning a corner into a deserted alley. Then the world blurred a bit and they were suddenly back in Clark's car on the train.
"And you are going to need to warn me before doing that. Is my hair still on straight?"
Clark put him down and kissed his forehead. "Your hair is perfect." For all that it wasn't really his hair, he felt a warm glowing feeling in his gut and also on his cheeks that he suspected was going to go a long way toward convincing the marshal they were really a betrothed couple. Even without an audience, it had Lex ducking his head and smiling demurely. "God, you're beautiful like that." Lex felt his flush deepen as the feeling expanded. Flattered. This is what being flattered felt like when the compliments were genuine. It was, well, flattering.
His chin was tilted up and Clark bussed a light chaste kiss against his mouth, but his voice a moment later was sorrowful, "I hate to do this, but I need to go check tickets so I'm going to need to cuff you again."
The warm feeling was abruptly gone, but he didn't protest as Clark walked him over to the bed and had him sit down. He pulled out a new set of handcuffs from his drawer (Lex had seen two more in there when he'd gone looking through the desk yesterday) and fastened one end around Lex's right wrist and the other on the headboard, as before. Then he shot fire from his eyes and melted the locking mechanisms beyond all redemption. Lex tried not to let that freak him out. It got easier when Clark gently caught his hands in his, rubbed his thumbs against Lex's palms, and kissed him on the top of his head. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes. I don't want to see the bed moved, the safe open, or your dress or make-up messed up when I get back. Try to think of a name and a back story for yourself, alright? Do you want a pen and paper to write it down on?"
"Yes, please." There was something about wearing a dress that made it impossible not to speak politely. He suspected it was the corset. There was something infinitely formal about not being able to bend your back. Fortunately, the Chinese lady hadn't made it so tight he couldn't breath, else all bets would have been off.
Clark fetched a pad of paper and a pen for him, then left, once Lex told him he didn't need anything else.
Alone, he began writing "Alexia Jenkins" over and over until he found a feminine looking handwriting that he felt he could live with. He repeated it a few more times, then wrote out a few penmanship exercises to be sure he could keep it consistent. Once he was satisfied with his writing style, he tore those pages off the top of the pad, crumpled them up and threw them into the middle of the floor for Clark to burn later. For good measure, he did the same to the next three blank pages because they had the imprint from the previous pages still on them. The fourth blank page, he tore off, and leaned it against the back of the pad before he began writing.
Dear Clark,
My father speaks very highly of you after his latest payroll. He insists I write you to inquire if you are yet wed. No, I lie. That is merely his intent. He will be most cross if he discovers I asked so directly. Pretend instead that I have asked idly if you have someone waiting for you at home.
You have saved him quite the sum of money by foiling the robbery attempt on his mine's payroll. I understand you modestly refused his reward bonus, stating that the bounty you were getting for the culprits was more than enough compensation. This was perhaps a mistake on your part for it has gained his attention and he has a young daughter of marriagable age.
Perhaps I should tell you a bit about myself so you can decide whether I might be someone you'd like to spend your life with. I am nineteen years old. My mother died when I was very young. I had a nanny after that, but she caught pnemonia and passed on when I was eight. Since then I have lived alone with my father.
Now, I love my father dearly, but he can be a bit of a grizzled old boar at times. This little mining town in the mountains suits him perfectly. I fear I am not such an excellent fit. In truth, I am delighted by my father's interest in eliciting your courtship. Do you think I might be able to travel about on your train with you? I would love to travel everywhere as you do. I have heard much about you of late. I am certain you'll be able to keep me safe from those horrible train robbers that plague you.
If I have not frightened or offended you, please write back. If I have, I apologize and I won't bother you again.
Alexia Jenkins
Lex signed his new name with a flourish and put the pen aside. He stretched, cracked his knuckles, reconsidered that action, and made a note to himself that he shouldn't ever do it again while wearing a dress. Then he pulled off another sheet of paper and began a second letter.
Dearest Clark,
I am so glad you wrote back. Now I can tell that beast Michael Keiths that I have a much better prospect. Yes, I realize you said you were not interested in marrying me, but you also said you were not married to anyone else yet, either, so I refuse to discount you. All the men here are terrible. They are either ancient, or dirty, or unpleasant, or any number of horrible traits. I assure you, Clark, I am not bad to look at. A bit on the tall side, perhaps, for which I blame my father most hatefully, but I hear you are tall as well. It must be destiny, right?
Keep in touch, I have nothing to look forward to here but your letters,
Alexia Jenkins
Lex frowned at the new letter. He was coming across as terribly dramatic. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep that up in person. But then, a bored nineteen year old girl with nothing better to do than write love letters to a boy she never met would probably be far more dramatic in writing than in person. He'd have to establish that. He put note two down beside note one, and pulled off another sheet of paper.
Dear Clark,
Oh, my God. I cannot believe you came to my town! And I made a complete fool of myself! Did I say one word or two during your entire stay? I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. I still cannot get over the fact that you came here, and you weren't even bringing a payroll this time. Did you really come just to see me? If so, I was terrible company and I apologize profusely. To be honest, even though you wrote me one letter, I didn't really think you were actually reading what I wrote. And then you're here, out of the blue. I was so forward in those letters, all but asking you to marry me, and then you're here, and you're talking to my dad about me, and I was so sure you were going to tell him to make me stop bothering you about a wedding that's never going to happen, except now it is!
You would not believe how excited I am. Or perhaps you would. You did have to catch me when I jumped into your arms like an over wound two-year-old. I am going to get to ride around in your train, right? Tell me I can, please? Dad will say yes, I know he will, if only to get some peace in the house again.
Your wife-to-be,
Alexia Jenkins Kent
One more letter ought to do it, to bring the story to the present time. He just needed to get her calmed down a little. There was no possible way he was going to be able to generate that level of enthusiasm for the marshal.
Dear Clark,
Did you notice, Clark? When you visited yesterday, I did not jump on you once. I really am a grown woman. Perhaps now you will consider letting me ride on your train? These once a month visits just aren't often or long enough to get any real planning for the wedding done. We can barely say hello and exchange news before you have to leave again. You don't need to change your schedule for me, just say which station I should meet you at and when. I'll be there.
Looking forward to seeing you again,
Alexia Jenkins Kent
Lex looked over his work, and nodded in self-affirmation that the story was adequate to explain where he'd come from and why he was on the train with Clark. He arranged the letters in sequential order, placed the pad of paper under the bed's mattress, and tossed the pen underhanded onto Clark's desk. He smirked in satisfaction when it did not roll off the far side. He checked that the ink was dry on the first letter and folded it so that it would fit into an envelope. Then he flattened it out again, folded it again, flattened it again, and folded it again, to give it at least the outer appearance of wear and tear. He repeated the process with each of the other letters as well. He wanted to find a tie or something to bundle them together with, but there wasn't anything within reach of the bed.
He was just contemplating how he might be able to rope something around a desk and haul that closer to the bed (which wouldn't technically void any of Clark's conditions) when the door to the room opened and Clark returned. "Great, you're back. Read these," he tossed the pile of folded letters onto the foot of their bed. "That's what you know about me, more or less. We've have at least two, possibly as many as four in person meetings, so we might have exchanged additional personal information, but that, I'll hold you to knowing. And can you find some kind of tie to keep them bundled together? I assume you're the type of person to keep your girlfriend's love letters."
Clark stared at him in surprise, then shook it off and opened the top one. At the second one, his eyes widened and he looked at Lex like he'd gone mad. By the end of the last one, though, he was nodding slowly. "Yeah, this can work." Then he frowned and looked at Lex dubiously. "If I drop you off at the station, can I trust you to stay there and come running at me the minute we disembark?"
Lex looked uncertain, then nodded. "I'm dressed like a girl, Clark. I wouldn't dare approach any of my normal contacts, and I can't get enough of a head start before you'd track me down for it to be worth the trouble. I'll be your fiancé waiting at the station for you."
Clark looked down into his eyes, seeming to search Lex's very soul for any sign that he might be lying. When Clark satisfied himself that there was none to be found, he smiled and gave Lex another light kiss. His green eyes were warm when he pulled back and said, "I look forward to it." Lex found himself smiling back.
He made himself look away and his eyes fell on the crumpled balls of paper littering the floor. "You'll need to burn those," he instructed. Clark retrieved one of them and unwrinkled it. When he was confronted with nothing more interesting than Alexia's name, he did as Lex requested, shooting fire from his eyes until the pages were nothing more incriminating than ash, which he then disposed of by tossing it out the cabin window. After brushing any residual ash from his hands, he returned to Lex's side and took his right wrist into both hands.
With a glance toward Lex, he said, "I'm going to let you out now." Lex nodded, and Clark snapped open the cuff that held him. He then did the same to the one around the headboard, and dropped the set into his waste basket.
Lex frowned, "I hope that's not how you always get rid of your broken handcuffs."
Clark just looked confused. "Well, normally I can just use the key to get them off people."
"You should at least crush them down into something unrecognizable or the Marshal will wonder who was wearing them and how they broke." Clark gave him a look like he was being entirely too paranoid, but he did as Lex suggested, molding the former handcuffs into a barn shaped metal paperweight that he put on his desk. "Much better," Lex told him.
Lex rose to his feet, being careful to 'flow gracefully' like a woman rather than 'launch upwards' like men did. He caught Clark watching him with admiration which made him flush and lower his gaze. Clark was behind him in a flash, wrapping both hands around Lex's waist, and nuzzling his face into Lex's neck. By the pull against his hips and his inability to move any further backwards, he suspected Clark's groin must be pulled up tight against his ass, but there was too much fabric between them to feel anything but a uniform pressure. That was the only thing that let him swat at the fingers holding him, and chide softly, "You can muss me up during our reunion in the Station. Not before."
Reluctantly, Clark let him go and stepped away. When Lex turned toward him, he felt equal parts terrified and absurdly flattered at the want still burning in Clark's eyes. He swallowed and tried to work moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. Disturbingly, that only intensified the look on Clark's face. He cleared his throat and tried to speak normally, "At least nobody will doubt the nature of our relationship." It came out in his woman's voice, but at least it didn't crack or betray his nervousness. And it really was good that Clark couldn't keep his hands to himself. That would make restraining Lex look much more natural.
Clark smiled at him, glanced around the room, then checked his pocketwatch. "We should get you out there. We'll be pulling into the Station in about five minutes." He stepped closer and looked seriously into Lex's eyes. "Swear to me you won't try to run."
Lex held the gaze steadily. "I swear."
Clark held it a moment longer then nodded. "Good." Then he picked Lex up and the world blurred and reconfigured into a narrow space between two brick buildings. Lex had barely felt his weight return to his own feet before he was alone. For one moment, he wondered how far he could run before Clark caught up to him. Then he shook his head and stepped out onto the street. He had five minutes to find the train station.
It turned out that one of the brick buildings was the Helena bank. He tried to turn his feet away, but found himself going inside. He didn't need to wait long for a free teller, and he moved toward the barred stall. "Hello," he greeted softly, "My father, Alexander Jenkins, has an account here. My stage was held up a few towns back and I need to replace some of what I lost, what do I need to withdraw about fifty dollars?"
"Jenkins, eh?" he said and pulled out a thick book. He flipped through the pages quickly until he reached on somewhere in the middle. "Alexander. Do you know the account number and date he opened it?
"I can come close. The account number is 94102, and he opened it when I was six, so the year must have been, oh, 1868. I don't know the day."
The teller nodded confirmation. "He opened it remotely via a representative. Do you know that person's name?"
Lex smiled with assurance, "I certainly do. That was Pamela Jenkins, my aunt."
"One last question, and I'll trust you're who you say you are, Miss Jenkins. When was the last time this account had a withdrawal?"
"A withdrawal?" Lex repeated in false confusion. "This is our savings account. We haven't needed to make any withdrawals. We sent in old Wat Nixon to drop off a deposit about a year ago, but there shouldn't be any withdrawals!" Lex raised his voice as he pretended to become increasingly agitated.
The teller made shushing gestures, "Yes, yes," he insisted hurriedly, "it was a trick question. There are no withdrawals from this account. Calm down, Miss Jenkins. Your father's money is secure. I was just making sure you knew how strange an activity this is for his account."
"Oh," Lex said, and ducked his head. "I apologize for getting excited."
"No, no, Miss, it's my fault." He paused a moment and counted out five ten dollar bills from the stacks in front of him. "Here you are, Miss, fifty dollars. If you'd just sign for it, right here?" He turned the book around to face her and handed her a pen. Lex signed the page with his signature for Alexia.
On the way out of the bank, he looked up at the clock embedded into the courthouse across the street and found he had only one minute left before the train was due. As much as he appreciated the security around his account, he would have liked that to go a little faster. He moved quickly down the street, stopping at a general store and moving directly to the proprietor. "Hello, sir," Lex spoke hurriedly, "My train is due any moment, but I just got into town and I need to replace my suitcases. Two of them, about this large," Lex traced out a decent sized woman's valise in the air. "Have you any available?"
He smiled warmly at her, and nodded, "I have just the thing, Miss, if you'll follow me?" Lex did and was led to a stack of suitcases exactly like what he was looking for.
"Perfect," he said happily, but instead of grabbing the two nearest, he followed the Chinese woman's advise and picked out two matching ones and pointed them out to the man rather than attempting to carry them himself. "I'll take that one and that one."
"Certainly, ma'am," he agreed and carried them back to the register himself, looking quite happy to do so. Lex could get used to this. They came to less than he thought they'd be, so he only held out two of the ten dollar bills when the total was given. In exchange, he was given two dollars and a quarter in change, a receipt for his purchase, and an offer to have a boy carry the bags to the station for her.
"Yes, please," Lex accepted gratefully, because that also solved the problem of how he was going find the station. Though the whistle that sounded just then was probably plenty of indication for which way he should start looking. "Oh, dear," he said, "That's probably my train now."
"I'll get Jerry," the storekeeper assured. "He's a fast kid."
Jerry was fast, and Lex nearly fell twice in the strange women's shoes as they rushed through the streets of Helena to get to the station. Fortunately, it wasn't far, and the disembarking passengers were still leaving when they arrived. Clark was already starting to look worried, though, his eyes barely paying any attention to the tickets he was punching through.
"Clark Kent!" Lex shouted as womanly as he could. Clark dropped the ticket punch and spun around just in time to catch Lex as he threw himself at Clark. Clark spun them around, put Lex back down onto his feet and gave him a thorough kiss on the lips.
When he finished, Lex felt a little dazed and Clark was beaming at him. "Alexia! You made it!"
"Only barely!" Lex exclaimed tartly. "The stage was held up and I had to buy new luggage and I very nearly missed the train!" He waved Jerry forward, "This is Jerry, he was sweet enough to carry my new bags for me. Jerry, you can just leave those there, Clark will help me get them and my old ones aboard." Lex tossed him the quarter he'd gotten in change and the boy gave a wide gap-toothed smile and darted away.
Clark gave Lex a quick peck on the cheek, and said, "Well, I'm glad you made it all right. Let me finish disembarking these folks, then we'll talk about your adventures."
The marshal was a weathered man in his late forties. Clark might have met him before, but it was hard to tell. He greeted Clark pleasantly enough, and was polite to Lex when they were introduced. The three of them and one deputy secured the payroll into the safe right away, then the deputy returned to town and Clark brought Lex with him as the train started to board the new passengers. Once it began to move, Lex smiled and flirted with all the young men as Clark made his initial rounds. Clark smiled tightly and kept a close hold on his betrothed, not letting Lex move further than arm's length from him. Lex just laughed and told any man who tried to defend his honor that Clark was going to be his husband so he was entitled to be a bit possessive.
If anything, Lex was a little too good an actor. Never, in all his time as a conductor or apprentice conductor, had Clark ever wanted to burn so many passengers to a crisp. It seemed to him that every male on the train between sixteen and thirty-five years of age had eyes for Lex, and Lex wasn't discouraging them nearly enough. In fact, Lex seemed genuinely flattered by each and every compliment that was delivered to him and his shy ducking blushes didn't affect only Clark. His bright blue eyes enraptured many, and his friendly charm won hearts up and down the aisle. Had he been a real woman, Clark would have felt extremely threatened by all the competition. As he wasn't, Clark just kept a tight hold on him at all times and hoped he wasn't leaving too many bruises. Lex, thankfully, wasn't showing any indication that Clark was hurting him, so that was good.
When they finally, finally got back to their cabin, the Marshal was still there, seated at Clark's desk and writing something. He looked up and smiled in greeting as they entered. "Ah, the lovebirds are back."
Lex did his blush thing again and Clark pulled him into an embrace and kissed the top of his head. "Yeah, Lexie's a little too popular with the passengers for my taste."
Lex huffed in the lady-like version of a snort. "They're just sweet." He looked up and smiled blindingly at Clark. "You know I'm yours."
The marshal did snort then. "Look, kids, I know I'm intruding in your room, and I promise I'll give you two privacy later, but let me finish this report, all right?"
This time, they both blushed. "Right," Clark agreed, and sat down on the bed. He pulled Lex down to sit beside him. For a few moments, the only sound was the scratching of the marshal's pen, until he sighed and looked up. "You two can talk, you know. Just none of the intimate details that I don't need to know about."
Lex immediately launched into regaling Clark with the details of his trip. He'd left his father's house a week ago to make the four day journey to Helena, but first his horse's leg went lame, then he missed his train and had to take a stage, the stage got bogged down near Boulder River, where it was then promptly held up by ruffians. Nobody was hurt, but everything he'd brought was stolen when they took the stage. He only barely managed to finish walking the rest of the way to Helena before Clark's train arrived.
The marshal looked up from his work when Lex paused for a breath. "That was the Mountain Lions' work, wasn't it, Miss? I heard about that stage."
"Oh, yes. Now, I recall, that's what that horrible man with the beard said."
"He won't be giving anyone anymore trouble," Clark said. "He was taken into custody yesterday."
The marshal grumped unhappily, "Then promptly escaped overnight. The gang broke him out."
"Oh," Clark said, feeling a little shocked but not nearly as upset as he should have to learn Lionel Luthor was on the loose again. Lex buried his face against Clark's chest, probably to hide whatever out-of-character reaction he was having to the news, and Clark wrapped an arm around him. "Was the Kid leading the jailbreak?"
"Nah, nobody's seen the Kid since he jumped the train. Senatori was leading the gang yesterday. Kid probably holed up somewhere to heal up that gunshot wound."
Clark felt Lex tense at the last two words, and he had to suppress an urge to shake his head. He'd bet anything Lex had again forgotten that he'd even taken a bullet. God, was that really just yesterday? Lex's head lifted away from Clark's chest as he turned to look at the marshal. "That boy was hurt? The bald kid?"
"Don't you worry about that, Miss. He's a young man now, probably four, five years older than you. No need for you to concern yourself on his account."
"He's the one who told that terrible man not to kill us all."
The marshal looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, I'm sure he's fine."
He returned to his paperwork as Lex changed the subject and began discussing some renovations his father was putting into his house and how glad Lex was to escape all the noise while the new windows were being installed. He was talking about how drafty and cold the house had been the previous winter and was just wondering how trains faired in the cold season when the Marshal put down his pen and laid his form aside, apparently done with his paperwork.
Clark didn't answer the question posed to him because he was watching the marshal stand up and give them each a smile that wouldn't have looked out of place on an indulgent parent or grandparent. "I'll get out of your way now so you two can finish up your reunion in private. If you need me, Kent, I'll just be making a few rounds. I won't be back for about two hours, is that enough time to yourselves?"
Lex blushed prettily and ducked his head. Clark lifted him up into his lap and beamed brilliantly at the marshal while wrapping both arms snugly around Lex. Lex curled comfortably against his chest and Clark could get used to this very easily. "Two hours is fine, Marshal," he confirmed.
As the door closed behind the lawman, Lex's hushed whisper followed him out, "Does he think we're going to have sex, Clark?" The door closed with a louder impact against its frame than the marshal had probably intended.
Clark laughed and rolled them down onto the bed, Lex under him as he caught the smaller angel into kiss that lasted only a moment before he pulled back to answer, "Probably." Then he leaned down again and recaptured Lex's lips.
Lex twisted his head to break the kiss after only a few more seconds. "If we're going to keep on like this, Clark, you're going to need to take off my corset."
Right. Lex was wearing altogether too much clothing at the moment. Clark got off the bed and lifted Lex up to his feet as well. For a moment, Clark didn't move, just spared a few long seconds to drink in Lex's slightly mussed appearance. Lex ducked his head and blushed again when he realized what Clark was doing. That brought all the suppressed lust Clark had been feeling while all those other men flirt with his Lex leaping back up to the surface.
In a blink, he was beside Lex, unlacing the corset, his own dick large and uncomfortable in his pants. "Lex," he said in a thick voice, "I want to be in you. Can I?"
Fear showed in his blue eyes and he went suddenly tense but he made no effort to hinder Clark as the corset was removed, and he removed his skirt by his own volition. He didn't say a word as he was fully stripped then led back to the bed. Clark laid him down on his back, then swirled into angelspeed to remove his own clothes. He climbed onto the bed in between Lex's legs. Lex was still tense, his eyes still wide and scared.
Clark touched the soft pale skin of Lex's sides, between his ribs and his hips. "Lex, I won't hurt you and I won't do this if you don't want it, too."
Lex nodded and swallowed hard. "Not yet, Clark . Soon, but not yet."
"Okay," Clark agreed and lay down overtop Lex to catch his mouth in another kiss. He broke it again almost immediately. "I can kiss you, right?"
Lex smiled, "Yes, Clark, you may kiss me."
"And touch you?" Clark questioned, not wanting to any more liberties than Lex was comfortable with.
He smirked up at Clark, amused, "You may touch me."
Now less certain of his boundaries, he asked cautiously, "May I touch inside you?"
A little of the fear came back into his eyes. "You may work up to it. Touch me everywhere else, first."
Two hours might not be enough time, but Clark wasn't going to waste what he had left of them. He leaned down closer until he could feel Lex breathing on his mouth. "Okay. I'm going to kiss you now." Lex closed his eyes and parted his lips in anticipation, then Clark closed the short distance. It deepened almost immediately and Clark couldn't prevent his hips from moving down. Their groins pressed together and neither could stop a moan.
Going on instinct, Clark moved a hand between their bodies and gripped both their dicks. Lex hissed around their kiss, but it sounded like a good sound. Clark himself was very pleased with the sensation and he continued to simultaneously kiss Lex and grind against him while squeezing their dicks together. Lex cried out into Clark's mouth as he came and Clark followed shortly after. Clark gentled the kiss then pulled away. Lex still looked somewhat dazed and Clark smiled at him, before moving at angelspeed to fetch a cloth and come back. He cleaned them both off, then tossed it carelessly to the floor and refocused on Lex. "Was that okay?" he asked, somewhat belatedly.
Lex gave him an incredulous expression. "Clark," he rasped, still a little breathless, "That was much better than okay."
Clark gave him his brightest smile. "Good. I'm going to touch you now." While it wasn't exactly a question, he did wait for Lex to nod permission before reaching down to stroke his fingers along Lex's pale smooth skin. Lex reached both arms up over his head to grab hold of two rungs of the headboard, opening himself up for further exploration.
Clark moved across his body implacably, touching with fingers, his whole hand, his mouth, his tongue. He backtracked often, revisiting the spots that gave him the most response - the nipples, the belly button, the hollow of his neck, the insides of his elbows, the curl of his ear, the knob at the back of his head, the insides of his thighs, the backs of his knees, the tendon at the back of his ankles. He avoided the ass, balls, and cock, in part because he wanted to follow Lex's instructions about touching everywhere else first, but mostly because Lex was beautiful like this and he wanted it to last as long as possible.
Eventually, though, he made his way back up Lex's shaking legs - his whole body was quivering with need and tears stood in eyes as he begged for Clark to just touch him, as if Clark wasn't doing just that. With a final kiss to the inside of each thigh, Clark sat up again and ran a finger along the vein on the underside of Lex's dick. That alone was enough to send Lex over the edge, and Clark barely got a hand over Lex's mouth in time to muffle his very masculine shout.
Sitting back once more, he dipped his fingers into the puddle of come on Lex's stomach. He remembered how dry Lex's hole had been that morning and he wanted to ease the passage of his fingers as much as possible. As he spread the ass cheeks, he was pleased to find that Lex's whole body was much more relaxed now. He barely tensed at all as the first fingertip breached him.
As Clark wiggled it deeper into his body, Lex spread his legs wider, let go of the headboard, and propped himself up on his elbows to watch. When the finger was in up to the last knuckle, Clark looked up into his wide blue eyes. He was relieved to find there was no fear in them now, only wonder and some kind of cross between amazement and curiosity. "You all right, Lex?" Clark asked anyway, just to make sure.
Lex nodded, still watching where Clark's finger disappeared into his body. "It's a little weird, but not unpleasant. I thought it would hurt."
"But it doesn't?"
He shook his head. "Not really, no. It's," his eyes widened as Clark moved his finger inside him, "do that again, but a little bit more to the left. I felt - Fuck!" He fell down onto his back again and pushed his ass against Clark's finger. "Oh, God. Clark, again. Same spot." His dick was hard and leaking again. Clark cheated and used his angel vision to find what Lex wanted targeted. There was a small bundle of muscle or something right near his finger tip, and he pressed against it. Lex's whole body jerked as he tried to get more of Clark's finger into him. "More, fuck, Clark, more."
"Another finger?"
"Yes! Anything! Just do it again!"
Despite this instruction, Lex made a sound of despair as the finger was removed from him. Clark hurriedly dipped two fingers in the still wet puddle of come then pushed both of them into Lex. Lex's eyes widened and he shifted to better accomodate their entrance, "Oh, God, that's big. That's good. Yeesss," he hissed, his eyes half closing as Clark zeroed in to that spot again. His hips bucked and drove the two fingers in deeper. "Fuck, Clark, your fingers are huge." But he continued to thrust himself onto them as Clark worked to spread his hole while being sure to stroke that spot often enough that Lex remained very happy with the proceedings.
"I'm going to put in another finger, Lex," Clark warned him when he decided he couldn't get him any more prepared using only two.
He nodded, too close to the edge to be coherent. Clarity returned to his eyes as the third finger was added, the stretching caused by its additional size chasing back his arousal. "Holy fuck," he gasped, spreading his legs as far apart as they would go and canting his hips to take the fingers into him. "That's got to be as big as your cock."
Clark smiled, his own vision starting to go red around the edges as he watched his three large fingers move in and out of Lex's body. "It's close," he agreed, hooking his fingers to caress that magical spot inside of Lex. His blue eyes glazed again and his body moved in concert to Clark's fingers. When he felt Lex was adjusted to the new finger, he leaned down and stroked Lex's side with his left hand. "Lex, I want to be in you now."
Lex nodded, all his earlier inhibitions gone. "Yeah. In me. Do that."
Clark slowly removed his fingers, and Lex made a sound of loss. He scooped up the last of the come on Lex's stomach and smeared it over his cock, the pushed himself into Lex's impossibly tight heat. Lex was chanting something, but Clark couldn't make out the words as blood roared through the veins in his ears, eager to get away from his brain and get down to his other head that was thoroughly enjoying sinking into Lex.
When he was fully encased in Lex's body, he blinked the red clear enough out of his field vision to see Lex's face. His eyes were wide, not scared again, thankfully, but a little wild looking. "You okay?" Clark asked, working hard to re-master the English language while his dick was in Heaven. If that wasn't absolute proof that Lex had to be an angel, he didn't know what would be.
Lex nodded, a little bit in shock. "You're in me. You, I, we're having sex."
Clark really wanted to get back to doing that, but Lex seemed dangerously close to getting scared again and Clark wasn't sure he could stop now. He could delay though, for Lex. "Yes, we are. Are you hurting?"
Lex blinked, shook his head, hesitated, nodded, then shook his again. "I, a little. Not too much. Too much adrenaline to feel pain. Holy fuck, you're in me."
Clark had to roll his hips or go mad, so he did. Lex's pupils flared wide enough to completely overtake his irises and his own hips moved in answer. His hands grabbed fistfuls of the blankets and his back arched. "Oh God, Clark, fuck me." Clark didn't wait for a second invitation. He kept his strokes slow and gentle so as not to overwhelm Lex any more than he already was. He moved in and out of him, each slow thrust bringing him deeper into the perfect body beneath him. Lex wrapped his legs around Clark's waist, and his fingers released the blankets only to tangle together behind Clark's neck. His body moved in counterpoint, Clark's hands on his hips helping him to move in the right rhythm, and gentling him when he tried to speed up their movements.
"Shh," Clark whispered into his throat as they moved together, "we've got time yet. You feel so right around me, don't rush it."
"Yeah," Lex whispered back. "Stay in me forever. God, this is good. Better than any woman."
Clark felt a surge of jealousy at that comment. Lex was his. No woman should ever again touch what belonged to him. He'd have to show Lex that woman weren't good enough for him any longer. He remembered that spot and angled himself for it.
"Cla-mmph!" Clark got his hand over Lex's mouth almost in time to stop the shout. Lex's body shuddered and spasmed under and around him and wet heat splashed against Clark's stomach as Lex came. The vibrations and rippling muscles around his cock was too much for Clark to take and his shot his seed deep into Lex before collapsed down on the bed, laying half over the smaller angel. They both lay there, breathing hard for several seconds before Lex said, slowly and with a strange mix of uncertainty and firmness, "Yes."
Clark blinked at him in drowsy confusion. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, everything. Yes, you have my parole. Yes, that crazy little Chinese lady can make me a wedding dress. Yes, I accept your implied proposal."
Wide awake now, Clark propped himself up on an elbow and stared down into Lex's face, searching his eyes to see if he really meant what he said. His words were repeated clear as day in those blue depths. He was still joined with Lex's body and it only took three strokes to bring him off again. Lex stayed soft, but he was smirking smugly when Clark opened his eyes again. "So you accept my acceptance?"
And God, could he really be hard again already? Must be another freaky angel ability. Just the thought of putting a ring around Lex's finger to mark him as Clark's was enough to make him swell. He leaned down and into Lex, pulling at Lex's hips to push in as far as it was physically possible to go. "Let's make it official," Clark said in a somewhat lower register than normal. "Lex, will you be my wife before God and Country?"
Lex swallowed hard, licked his lips, and a trace flicker of frightened doubt lurked in his blue eyes, but he nodded. "I'll be your wife, Clark."
Clark didn't even need to move to come for the third time in as many minutes. The words, his name, and Lex's eyes were enough to bring him off.
Reluctantly, after a few moments of mutual staring, Clark carefully pulled out of Lex's body. Despite his care, Lex still winced and squeezed his eyes shut in brief pain as they separated. "How much time do we have left?" Lex asked quietly.
Clark found and checked his pocketwatch. "About twelve minutes. We should get you dressed again." He looked uncertainly toward the mountain of woman's clothes topped by the auburn wig that had come off Lex. "Hopefully, we can remember how to do that."
"Where's that rag? I've still got come on me." In him, too, but Clark could only wipe down his cleft and hope that was enough. After they were both relatively clean, Clark swiftly dressed himself in a flash, then began to carefully turn Lex back into Alexia. Fortunately, he'd been paying enough attention while Minglan dressed Lex that morning to be able to repeat the process. The make up was the hardest to replicate, but he achieved a reasonable success on the third try. His handkerchief was beyond redemption by then, though. He dropped it into his waste basket just as there was a knock on the door. "Kids? Are you two decent in there?"
"Come in," Clark called in answer. "It's safe."
The door opened and the marshal entered. He looked toward Lex who immediately broke out into a guilty flush, which Clark was surprised to discover was identifiably different from his virginal blushes from earlier. He wasn't sure how, but it was. The marshal snorted and looked at Clark. "I hope the wedding is planned for sooner rather than later?"
"Um, we're still deciding on a date."
He hummed and waved for Clark to move, "Go stand next to her."
Lacking any reason not to, Clark did as instructed, immediately wrapping an arm around Lex's waist. The marshal frowned, tilted his head, then shook it solemnly. "Look at her glow. Ten to one, she's with child already." Clark's first inclination was to scoff at the possibility. The marshal, after all, didn't know that Lex was male. But then he remembered that Lex was an angel and only God knew how angels reproduced. And marshal seemed so certain, like there were signs of pregnancy so soon after intercourse and Lex was showing them.
Clark looked down at Lex and saw that he'd gone pale, as if similar thoughts were going through his mind. He was looking back up at Clark and when their eyes met he asked in a shaky voice, "Is that possible?"
"Maybe?" Clark answered, just as shaken.
The marshal huffed and shook his head. "Didn't anyone tell either of you about sex? Yes, it's more than possible. In fact, it is very likely that you're now carrying Kent's babe, Missy. I'd say you'd best get that wedding planned for inside four months if you don't want a big round belly at the altar."
"Oh, God," Lex whispered then wrapped himself around Clark. Clark didn't know if he was acting like Alexia would have to the idea, or if he was genuinely upset, but he wrapped his arms around him and held him close. In a voice that barely carried to Clark's sensitive angel hearing, he made out Lex's comment, "At least, we know he's buying that I'm a girl." Presumably, that meant he was acting, but he could feel Lex's whole body strumming with tension that Clark didn't believe was feigned. He made soothing noises and ran his hands up and down Lex's back. Again, Lex spoke, too quiet for anyone but Clark to hear, "You really honestly believe I'm an angel?"
"I do," Clark said softly, then continued, for the marshal's benefit, "That's what we'll say in a few months time and nobody but our parents will realize the child's too soon."
"If I am pregnant, Clark, I'll believe you." There wasn't anything to say to that, not with the marshal still there and listening, so Clark just held him. "If I am, Clark, nobody's going to think I'm Kid Luthor ever again."
Clark pulled away and held him by his waist as he looked directly into Lex's blue eyes. "I hope you are," he said with complete honesty. "I want a family with you. It doesn't matter about the timing."
Lex lowered his eyes in a move that Clark realized immediately was pure Alexia. "I'm sure my father will not agree."
Clark dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Then we don't tell him until after we're wed."
Lex kissed him back as he pulled away. "That won't be the problem, love. He'll see that happens, with a shotgun, if he has to. I just want to be sure we get the dowry."
Surprised by this twist in their act, Clark's eyes widened. Lex wasn't a girl and the father under discussion was imaginary so where was this talk of a dowry coming from? Presumably, it would have been something he and Mr. Jenkins agreed upon when he asked for Alexia's hand, so he couldn't even ask what Lex was talking about. Fortunately, Lex seemed to sense his confusion so he spoke to the marshal in explanation, "My father owns a silver mine. He's not exactly a poor man, and Clark's indentured to the railroad. The dowry is enough to support us until he can finish out his term."
The marshal looked mildly surprised. "And he approved this match? No offense meant, Kent."
"None taken," Clark assured, fully aware that Alexia, as Lex told her history, was marrying below her station.
Lex straightened, taking offense where Clark did not. "I assure you my choice of husband is appropriate. First, he has all his teeth. Second, he's not as old as Father is. Third, he's taller than I am. Fourth, he saved Father's payroll and wouldn't accept the bonus. Fifth, he's terribly good-looking. Sixth, he's a good and honest man. Seventh, he leads a wonderfully exciting life, always traveling. Eighth, have I mentioned, he's taller than I am?"
The marshal laughed. "All very solid reasons, particularly that last one. I take back my doubt."
Lex nodded primly. "As you should."
Later that evening, the train trundled toward Spokane in the Washington Territory. They'd be crossing two state borders overnight with Idaho passing by all but unremarked. In the conductor's cabin, Lex and Clark sat on the bed, papers spread out between them as they argued over whether the wedding should be held in Kansas, Clark's home state, Montana, which was Alexia's, or somewhere in between so that all family was equally inconvenienced. Clark cheated a bit and stated as fact that the Jenkins' hometown wasn't even large enough to support a church while the same priest who baptized Clark was still running the one in Smallville. He also insisted that the man was a close family friend and would be terribly put out if he didn't get to preside over Clark's wedding service. His final argument was that his parents were farmers who could barely afford a field hand to help during the busy season while Alexia's father had overseers and an entire staff of miners working for him.
The marshal, seated at the desk, shook his head and raised his eyes from the book he was reading. He shook his head and half-smirked. "Give it up, Missy. It'll do your old man good to get out of the mountains."
Lex frowned at him. "Sure, take the man's side."
He chuckled, "I'd have defended your stance if your points were about what you wanted, not what your dad did."
Lex looked a little surprised, then began challengingly, "Well, I want the wedding to be in," then he stopped shook his head and threw up his hands. "Fine. I don't care where it is, so long as it's a nice one. You want Smallville, Kansas, we can have it in Smallville, Kansas, but I want final say on decorations."
Clark nodded. "Done."
"That, kids, is what is known as compromise. It's the key to a successful marriage. Remember it."
Lex frowned irritably at him. "If you don't stop calling us kids, I'm going to invite you to this wedding and tell everybody that you're my grandfather. And then I'm going to tell Dad you left us unchaperoned so we could conceive his grandchild. And then-"
The marshal held up his hands in surrender, "All right, Missy. You're a grown woman, I get that. I won't say it again."
"She's at that age," Clark said solemnly, as if he were so much older and wiser. "Nineteen."
The glare Lex sent his way had very little of Alexia in it. "Keep it up, Kent. It'll be a cold marriage bed for you." Fortunately, he did keep to the woman's voice even if he was disregarding everything else Minglan said about displaying anger. Clark wondered if maybe Lex hadn't lied about his age in Alexia's letters. Or if he had, he'd made himself older, not younger like Clark had assumed.
Outwardly, he winced a bit and glanced over at the marshal, "And even more sensitive about her age than I thought she was." He turned back to Lex. "Alexia, sweetheart," bad move, Lex's eyes narrowed further and it was clearly him, not her, who needed to be soothed. "Lexie," he tried again, hoping the shortened name would be sufficient to let him know Clark wasn't acting.
Lex lifted his eyebrows, obviously still not happy with him, but at least willing to listen to grovelling.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I swear I wouldn't have said anything if I thought it would bother you this much. I asked you to be my wife. That is not something you do with someone you view as a child. You're an adult, I know that. I never meant to imply otherwise."
He seemed to accept that, but he remained tense as his said in short bit off words, "I am not a Kid."
There was something in the way he said the last word that made Clark hear a capital letter. Understanding dawned as he belatedly remembered the very first thing Lex had ever said to him. This had to be an ingrained sore point and God alone knew how long Lex had been fighting the nickname. "I'll remember that," Clark promised.
Lex did relax then, at least marginally. "Good." He nodded in that prim way Minglan had taught him and began rifling through the papers on the bed again. "You probably don't have a sister, do you? I don't know who I can have as bridesmaids."
Baffled by this sudden return to normalcy, Clark looked to the wise and wedding band wearing marshal for guidance on how he should proceed from here. He made a go-on gesture and mouthed, Play along.
"Uh, no sisters. I did have a friend from school, Chloe, who'd probably be honored to be asked, though."
He nodded and wrote Chloe in Alexia's hand on a fresh sheet of paper. "Best man?"
"That'll have to be Pete Ross," Clark said without hesitating. "And Chloe's last name is Sullivan. Well, it was the last time I got a letter from her. Any month now I expect to hear Pete's proposed. It's going to be a terrible scandal."
Interested despite himself, Lex looked up from the page. "Oh?"
"Pete's black and he's been trying to work up the courage to ask her out for years. Chloe's the educated white girl who refuses all suitors; she just came back from out East where she went to College and everything. I think she's holding out for Pete."
Lex's brows lifted and he broke out a small smile. "I wanted to go to College," he commented with resigned sadness. "My father wouldn't let me." Clark suspected that information held equally true for both Alexia and Lex.
Clark caught Lex's hand in his and smiled warmly at him, "If it turns out you're not pregnant, maybe we could use some of your dowry to send you to one. To be honest, I'd rather have you safe out East than constantly riding the Indian Territory and payroll routes with me."
Lex looked at him in surprise. "Really? You'd let me go to school?" He looked so hopeful and happy that Clark had to move the papers out of the way and pull him into his lap. Lex cooperated fully with his relocation and turned bright eyes toward Clark's as he wrapped his arms around Clark's neck. "College, a good one, out East?"
Clark smiled, and placed a hand on Lex's stomach, "If you're not with child, I promise, you can go to a good Eastern College."
Lex threw his arms around Clark and held him tight. In a muffled voice that wouldn't carry beyond them, "Oh, God, Clark, you have no idea how much I don't want to be an angel right now."
Clark tightened his arms around Lex, unable to help wondering, if Lex had to money to give himself as large a dowry as he was implying, why hadn't he run from Lionel long before now and just gone to school like he so obviously wanted? Was it because of the price on his head, or did he just never think of the possibility? He nuzzled against soft skin of Lex's neck and was grateful circumstances had fallen such that he could have Lex at all. "We don't even know that angels can reproduce," he pointed out in a soft whisper loosed directly into the shell of his ear. "And even if they do, not even women get pregnant every time they have sex."
"But he sounded so sure," Lex breathed back, "He said I glowed. That's not normal, is it?"
"We're angels, Lex, there's nothing normal about us. It doesn't necessarily mean the same thing for you as it does for human women."
They held each other in silence for a few more moments, then Lex released Clark's neck and settled down to sit comfortably inside the embrace of his arms. For someone who was raised as a male human, Lex was taking surprisingly well to being touched and held like he was precious. At times, he even acted like it was his due.
As Lex leaned back against Clark's chest, he announced, "We're not having any more sex until we're married, just in case I'm not pregnant yet." Clark closed his eyes and tried not to groan aloud with his dismay. The effort went to naught when Lex continued, "Even then, we'll just consummate the marriage and stop. And if I'm not pregnant now, and you get me pregnant then, I don't know what I'll do, but I won't be responsible for my actions."
The marshal coughed, as if to remind them that he was still present. Clark opened his eyes in time to see him making a show of looking at his pocketwatch. "Oh, will you look at that. I'd best turn in now. I'll be right over in the next cabin. Good night, folks." He tipped his hat at them and departed, pulled the door closed behind him.
When he was gone, Clark stood and relocated all the papers from the bed to his desk, then began helping Lex undress for bed. "Lex, it's a really small bed for two people. I don't know if I can keep my hands to myself."
Lex looked at him oddly. "Who said anything about hands? Just keep your dick out of my ass and everything's good."
Clark groaned painfully. "You're going to spend the next four or five months teasing me?"
Lex sighed. "Look, I want you in me as much as you want to be there, but I'm not risking a pregnancy if it costs me my only chance of going to College. It's bad enough that I believe it could have already happened."
"Compromise, right? That's what the marshal said. How about this one? We have sex like bunnies until you go East. If you don't get pregnant, that's great. But if you do, you take this year off, and start College the next year."
"And the baby? What becomes of our child, then, Clark? A nanny? I didn't know my father until I was eight years old. Maybe it's just because he's a dick, but I never liked him. I'd rather not chance my own kid hating me."
"College is two or four years, not eight. I didn't meet my parents until I was three, and I can't remember anything before that. We'll leave the baby in Mom and Dad's care. I can run across the country in under two minutes, so visits will be easy. We'll work it out, Lex. There's not even any real reason besides what the marshal said to even think you can get pregnant. And if he's right, it's already too late."
Lex closed his eyes and leaned forward against Clark. It felt like permission. In relief, Clark wrapped his arms around him, still holding the corset he'd just removed. "If it makes you feel better, I'll use my special angel vision to look inside you to make sure you don't have baby making parts."
Lex pulled back abruptly and looked at him accusingly, "You have special angel vision that lets you see baby making parts? And you didn't mention this before now?" Without even waiting for Clark to answer he took a step back and spread his arms wide, "Well, what are you waiting for? Look!"
Clark squinted his eyes and did as he was told. He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to find none. "Your innards look just like Pete's did."
He was a bit surprised by the flash of jealousy in Lex's eyes. "Why were you looking at his innards?"
"He'd just nearly gotten trampled by a spooked horse. I was making sure he wasn't hurt."
Lex nodded grudgingly. "Well, don't make a habit of it. Just look at my innards. My male innards that can't make babies." He smiled widely. "I hereby rescind the prohibition on sex." His voice was blatant invitation and Clark was hard and angelspeeding through the undressing process before he realized he'd moved.
Lex looked momentarily dazed as Clark dropped out of angelspeed while lowering Lex's naked body onto the bed. In a moment though, his mind caught up to where Clark was and then he just looked turned on as he spread himself open on the mattress and opened plenty of space between his legs for Clark. Clark had no memory of undressing himself, but he was naked, too, and kneeling down between those legs, a jar of hand lotion he'd run off to buy while making his late afternoon rounds in his hand. "Lex, you're beautiful."
His betrothed smiled up at him and a rosy bloom spread over his skin. "Yesterday, I wouldn't have believed you, but being a woman is surprisingly good for the ego." He scooted down on the bed, bringing his ass into contact with Clark's eager groin. "I'd've put on a wig and dress ages ago if I'd know people would become so nice to me." Lex's eyes closed and he gave a happy sigh as Clark cupped his ass cheeks and spread them apart. "And the sex is definitely worth the identity confusion and off-kilter world axis."
Clark stilled, one hand lotion slicked finger held against that puckered hole. "Identity confusion?"
Lex pressed against it, and Clark obliging pushed the fingertip inside. Lex gave a satisified sound and Clark grinned and shook his head down at him. The smaller angel was a complete slut now that he knew he liked it. "Yeah," Lex agreed, moving his body to greedily take in more of the finger. "Half the time I don't know if I'm talking about me or Alexia. The rest of the time I don't know which of us is 'me'. When I made her up, I didn't think we were that alike. That feels good, Clark, but I'm still way too coherent. I think you need to put in another finger."
Clark pulled out his one finger, reapplied the lotion onto two of his fingers and eased them both into Lex again. As Clark prepped his hand, Lex continued as if he hadn't interrupted himself. "Plus, there's the whole angel thing, which is hard to accept because that means I'm not even human if it's true. And because of that, I seriously believed, for a solid four hours today, that I was going to have your baby."
He closed his eyes and his narrative broke off momentarily as Clark's fingers entered him. "And with that happening so soon after agreeing to be your fucking wife, my self image of whether I'm a girl or a guy is now totally fucked up and I honestly don't know if I should go to a woman's college or try to get into Harvard or Yale like I wanted to before. Then, even beyond all that, there's," he hissed softly as Clark found that spot inside Lex and circled the outer edges of it, "the fact that I sure as hell haven't been Kid Luthor since I fell out of that safe, so who the fuck is 'me' when 'me' is not Alexia? Oh, God, yeah, Clark, keep doing that."
What Clark was to keep doing was alternating tapping of his two fingers against that spot. He was trying to walk the fine line between keeping Lex off-guard so he kept talking like this, and keeping him coherent enough to be understood. Because what Lex was describing wasn't just 'confusion'. It sounded like a full out identity crisis and Clark had never even suspected it was going on. He'd thought it was cute how well Lex could play his role. There had been too much information, too many changes going on inside Lex's brain. Clark had found it difficult to cope when his parents had told him he was an angel when he was nine. He couldn't imagine what Lex must be going through now. "You're Lex," he said, trying to sound reassuring, hoping he could provide Lex with the support he needed.
Lex just laughed and tried to lose himself in what the fingers were doing to him, but Clark wasn't letting him escape that easily. Avoiding that spot altogether, he scissored his fingers apart to stretch the channel. "Fuck," Lex gasped, "Fuck if I know who that is. Dad never let me be anyone but Kid. I thought," he sucked in another breath and pushed back against Clark's fingers as Clark closed them, turned them ninety degrees, and scissored them open again, "I was Kid, but now I think he was just as much a role as Alexia is. I haven't," he panted out a breath, thrust his hips, and widened his eyes as Clark scraped a fingernail over that spot. "I haven't missed being him since you came back with breakfast an eternity ago this morning."
Clark grinned down at him, "So you don't have an overwhelming desire to open my safe anymore?"
Lex grinned back, "I've gotten new desires that are more overwhelming. Like the one for a third finger." Clark obliged and allowed Lex to fuck himself on them for a few moments before slowing him down and beginning a gentle massage of the inside of Lex's ass. Lex's pupils were blown wide. "Fuck, Clark, you're killing me slowly here. I've got another overwhelming desire. Get inside me, Clark."
"Shh," Clark kissed his nearest knee. "I'm not done talking to you yet."
"Fuck, Clark, you're supposed to be the guy in this marriage. Guys fuck, girls want to talk. I'm done talking. Now, fuck me."
Clark shook his head. "No, you're still talking. Now tell me about the world's axis."
"I'm getting mixed signals here, Clark, do you want me to enjoy the finger sex we're having or not? Your fingers say have fun, but your conversational prompts are really off-putting."
"Answer me anyway." He made sure his fingers made up for the conversational prompt.
"Shit. Okay, if that'll get you in me faster. The world's screwed up. It's like I fell through Alice's rabbit hole when I went in that safe. Before that everything was normal, like it's supposed to be. I got shot, but that's sadly not as uncommon an occurrence as I'd like it to be. Then I woke up in your bed, and dad was in jail, then I was naked in your bed, then I was in a dress, then dad was free and I didn't even have to do anything, then the marshal was here being fatherly to me of all things, more fatherly than my dad ever was, while in a normal world, he would have done anything to see me put behind bars. Not to mention, I manipulated him into telling me that Kid Luthor was probably safe and made him make it sound like it a good thing, which, let me tell you, was nearly as freaky as everything else going on. Oh, and then there's the freaking healing thing that has branded me as the devil's own for all of my life suddenly being a sign of being one of Heaven's good angels, sent down to Earth. Plus, I flirted with guys, guys flirted with me, I had sex with a guy, more than once, I agreed to marry a guy I'd known for all of eight waking hours, I thought I was pregnant, and now I'm going to get to go to college. And that was just one day. Will you fuck me now?"
Clark decided he had more than earned the reprieve and caught his mouth in a kiss.
Lex had passed out when he came and fell into a deep exhausted sleep that hadn't been interrupted when Clark cleaned him. He was still sound asleep when Clark got back from California, where he'd gone to pick up Lex's dress for tomorrow. Neither did his wake as Clark curled up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist, though his did make a sleepy noise that might have been Clark's name as he adjusted to his new position. Clark kissed the back of his naked scalp and settled down to join him in sleep.
The hand lotion had been closed and left on the corner of the bed where the headboard met the wall, but when Clark woke early the next morning, it was already open. Not that he was paying attention to that, but he assumed it had to be because lotioned fingers were stroking his dick and lining it up to Lex's hole. Instinct clouded his brain and he thrust forward while grabbing Lex's waist and pulling him onto him.
Lex hissed and reason returned long enough to panic and worry, "I hope you stretched yourself before doing that."
Lex nodded quickly, but his voice was still breathless, "Yeah, but apparently not as much as you did."
Despite himself, the idea of Lex of making himself ready for Clark made his already mostly aroused dick swell larger. His hands were still around Lex's hips, and Lex moved his own hands to grip Clark's wrists as he shifted his body, easing Clark in just a minute amount deeper. " God, that felt weird in an incredible way. Are you fully hard now or can you grow again?"
"I think I'm all the way there." He wouldn't discount the possibility that Lex could do something to make him need to get harder, but he doubted he was physically capable of doing so.
"Pity. I'll just have to do the same thing tomorrow morning."
Clark rolled them so that Lex was on his stomach. He used his knees to push apart Lex's legs. It wasn't a terribly different position from what they'd been in a day ago, except now he was truly inside Lex instead of just sliding along his cleft. Clark pulled partially out then pushed back in to accentuate the difference. Lex's moan lacked any pain so he assumed that whatever inadequacies there'd been in the preparation were now fixed.
Lex let go of Clark's wrists and used his hands instead to brace himself against the bed as they began to move together. As they each got closer, Clark reach under them to grip Lex's dick since he was pulling a little too far away from Clark to fuck the bed for Clark to be entirely happy with. The tiny bit of his brain that was still rational laughed at him for being jealous of the furniture, then took a mental to repeat the action in the future because Lex really liked having Clark on both sides of him. Lex buried his face against the bed to muffle the scream as he came. Clark followed soon after and pulled gently out.
As they got off the bed, Lex's eyes were drawn to his new clothes. "I went back to Minglan's last night," Clark told him. "She wasn't surprised that we still want the wedding dress."
Lex touched the purple sleeve of the dress and shook his head. "Is it wrong that the thought of wearing a wedding dress doesn't bother me anymore? Is it wrong that I look at this one and think 'Mine! '"
Clark wrapped his arms around Lex's waist from behind and kissed him on the shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with either. This one is yours. Minglan made it just for you. Just like she's going to make your wedding dress."
Lex turned around to look at him seriously. "But we're angels, right? That's how we're justifying this. But, correct me if I'm wrong because I was eight the last time I was in a church, but isn't it against the church rules to lie?"
Clark was baffled by where Lex was going with this. "We're not going to lie. That why I want to go to Smallville to get married. Because I know the priest there knows about angels on Earth. He knows about me, and, you were just a baby at the time, but he's met you, too."
Lex blinked. "He has?"
"I was sure it was you when you said your new name was Alexia Jenkins. Because Smallville's other angel was found by Pamela Jenkins in Riley's field." Lex would have fallen if Clark hadn't caught him and helped him sit on the edge of the bed.
"Pamela found me? I'd always assumed Dad hired her. Fuck, how did he come into the picture at all?"
Clark kissed his forehead. "Since you're the one worried about proper angel behavior, do you think maybe you could try to curse a little less?"
"God, no. I'm just thinking about the big ten."
"You're not supposed to use the Lord's name in vain."
Lex blinked. "That's a commandment? Fuck. I can't do this."
"Let's focus on the lying one first. Why did you think we'd be lying?"
"I'd assumed you would be calling me Alexia on the altar. I'd assumed that you'd be marrying Alexia, who is a girl, not Lex who is a guy. It just feels like a lie to stand on an altar wearing a dress and having everyone in the church but you think I'm a woman."
Clark sighed unhappily. "Does it make a difference if the priest, my parents, and maybe Chloe know the truth but nobody else does?"
Lex squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again. "The name matters, Clark. I'm not Alexia Jenkins. It won't be me marrying you if that what the priest calls me."
Clark looked at him seriously. "For your own safety, I don't want the whole town to know you're a male who likes dick. The priest will get that you’re an angel and that makes you different, but I'd rather not even tell Pete that you're really a guy."
Lex closed his eyes. "Lexie Jenkins, then." He laughed sourly. "Pamela found me first, so I should have taken her name anyway, right? God, what kind of insane foster mother lies and says their kid belongs to Lionel Luthor? Do you have any idea what it's like to think someone like that is your father?"
"Shhh, it's all right. He's not."
Lex laughed shakily. "For the first time since Pamela died, I feel like I have a chance of not going to Hell, after all."
Personally, Clark didn't care much for the parenting of either Pamela or Lionel, but he didn't say anything about it. He just made Lex stand up again and started to help him get dressed in his new clothes. The dressing passed quietly, and Lex didn't speak again until Clark was lacing his corset. "I'm going to be Lexie for the rest of my life, aren't I?" When Clark looked up from the ribbons, he continued, "I mean, I'm going to be your wife for the rest of my life. And wives are female. I'm going to get introduced everywhere as Lexie. I'm going to be expected to stay home, clean, cook, sew, and raise the children, assuming we can figure out how my not-baby-making-innards can make babies. And if we can't figure that out, people are going to wonder what's wrong with me. I'll be an inadequate wife because you want kids. Hell, I want kids, just not until I finish College."
Clark pulled him into an embrace. "Lex," he said, the next words the hardest he had ever uttered, "If you want to change your mind, I'll let you go."
Lex pulled away sharply. "What?! No! Clark, no," he shook his head earnestly. "I want to be your wife. I do. It's just a huge adjustment, and I'm really scared because everything I ever thought about myself is no longer true. Dad's not my dad. I was found, not born. And to everyone but the very closest of friends and family, I've given up being a man." He took a deep breath and said more calmly, "At least now I know why nobody would answer my questions about Mom."
Clark smiled, partly in sympathy, but mostly in relief. He caressed Lex's face, then kissed him lightly. "Let's finish getting you dressed." He went back to lacing the corset.
"When I go to College, I'm going to need dresses I can put on by myself." Lex said, breathing in and holding his breath at the end as Clark tugged the ribbons tight and tied them together. "And I think I'm going to start hating corsets by the end of the week."
"We'll be staying in Spokane for a few hours while they restock the coal. We'll buy a mirror and few store bought dresses so you can practice getting ready on your own. For now, lift your chin, I need to put on your makeup."
He held still while Clark brushed on blush, mascara, and lipstick. Only as he was setting the wig on Lex's head, did Lex speak again, "I'll probably be able to do the makeup and wig without too much trouble. I've used both before as a guy."
The wigs weren't surprising. The bald head was the most notable feature mentioned on his wanted poster. But, "Makeup, too?"
Lex held up his hand for Clark's inspection. "Pale skin. Just add a black wig and darker foundation to all exposed skin, and I'm suddenly an entirely different nationality. Usually I'll do Spaniards or Italians. I tried being an African prince once by using coal dust, but my eyes gave me away. Nobody was buying a black guy with blue eyes."
Clark laughed and stepped back, inspecting Lex's appearance. He smiled appreciatively. "You look really good, Lex."
Lex smiled back, blushing only a little bit compared to yesterday. "Thank you." He spread he arms and twirled for Clark, then watched with a delighted grin as his purple skirt swirled around him as he stopped. "I like this color."
Clark nodded. "Yeah, it looks really good on you. Minglan said you should mostly wear blues and purples to, how did she put it? 'Bring out the ocean of your eyes.'"
"She did not say that."
"She doesn't see a lot of blue eyed people, Lex, she really likes your eyes."
Lex shook his head, still obviously not believing it. "You're going to teach me Chinese, Clark, and then I'm going to ask her what she thinks of my eyes, and she's not going to say that. I think you're blaming her for your bad poetry."
Clark smiled and kissed him. "If that's what you want to believe, go right ahead, but I assure you, my poetry is much much worse. So, do we want to go down to the dining car for breakfast, or shall I bring something back for you?"
Lex smiled and held out a hand. "Show me off, Clark."
"Gladly," Clark grinned back, taking the hand in his.
"I just thought of something."
"Yeah?"
"I need to learn how to dance like a girl."
Clark grinned, "We'll practice that."
"Kent." Clark and the marshal were making the final rounds before heading in to Spokane. Lex had opted to stay in the conductor's cabin, and this time Clark had felt no concern about leaving him alone and unguarded with the safe. Right now, they were moving across a luggage car, probably one of the most private places on the train, and the marshal sounded serious.
Clark slowed, "What's wrong, Marshal?"
The man hesitated, sighed, then shook his head. "It's about your lady."
Concerned, Clark widened his eyes. "What about her?"
"You two were not very quiet last night." Clark blushed. "Nor this morning." He blushed deeper. "Last night I was just going to mind my own business and not say anything, but this morning when it happened again, I was going to talk to you about it. The girl made it very clear last night she didn't want any more sex until her wedding night. Now, I didn't think you were forcing her or anything, but she obviously felt strongly about going to College, so I wanted to remind you that she is not obligated, and is in fact, expected not to have sex with you until after the wedding."
"I assure you, I wasn't -"
The marshal held up a hand. "I wasn't done. So I went to your door this morning, and was about to knock when I overheard some of your conversation." The blush was a distant memory. Now his face was paler than a virgin's wedding dress. "That girl you're bedding is no girl at all."
"Marshal," Clark began, but had no idea where to go with it.
"Normally, as immoral as that is, it still wouldn't be my business. But that girl, that child who was so overly sensitive to being called a kid, I have reason to believe she's Kid Luthor. And that makes it my business. I was wrong yesterday. That boy is no older than Alexia, and I'd wager anything both of them are no older than seventeen. I don't care what she told you, that girl is not nineteen."
Clark had only one way to back up a lie and he used it now. "Lex Luthor was shot through the leg. Alexia's uninjured."
"It wouldn't be the first time the Kid made a wound disappear in a matter of hours. That boy's been shot through more times than the poker table in Wild Molly's Gambling Hall and the next time he's spotted, there's not a scratch on him. Unnatural, that boy is. Evidently, he's now carried that over into his sex life, though I wouldn't have pegged him for the type."
Clark flinched, both in sympathetic agony for the callous description of how often his Lex was hurt, and in part because of the way Lex's ability and now his relationship with Clark was being labeled. "I don't understand," Clark tried a different approach, "if this is what you think of Alexia, why didn't you treat her any differently at breakfast, and, more importantly, why did you leave her alone with the safe and the payroll while you came out here with me?"
The marshal grimaced. "Unfortunately, that's not what I think of Alexia. I think Alexia is a charming young woman, a little naive about the world, and head over heels in love with you. Worse, it is not even my opinion of the Kid. After what I heard this morning, I think the Kid is a very confused young man, entirely dependant on the support of those he views as stronger than himself, and head over heels in love with you. I left him alone with the payroll to test him. I don't believe he'll touch it. If I'm right, I'll leave him in your custody and trust never to hear the name Kid Luthor again. If I'm wrong, I'm taking you both into the Spokane City's Sheriff's Office."
"Clark! Fuck! Clark!"
He picked up Lex's shout with angelhearing and he grabbed the marshal by the arm and started running. "Lex needs us." He wanted to angelspeed to Lex's side, but he didn't want to give away his own 'unnatural' ability to the marshal. So he used his special vision to look ahead and make sure Lex wasn't in any immediate danger.
There were three skeletons in the conductor's cabin, all three holding guns, though where Lex had come up with one, Clark had no idea. He recognized which of the three was Lex because he could make out the whale bones of the corset. That and he was the one with two guns pointed at him. Clark tuned his hearing into the room, promising Lex that he'd use his speed the moment a gun fired.
Lex was standing in front of the safe, his gun on the closer of the two other men. "Look, Missy," one of the men was saying, "Put the gun down and step out of the way. Nobody wants to hurt you."
"Then get off the train because I'm not moving. I will shoot to defend myself."
Clark dragged the marshal through another train car, as fast as he could without making the older man stumble. "The train's being held up. Lex is defending the safe. Two men, both armed. So's Lex."
"The Kid can't shoot for shit," the marshal said, panting a little bit as he tried to keep up with Clark. "He's as like to hit himself as them."
In the conductor's cabin, the two men jockeyed for position, making it impossible for Lex to cover both of them. Lex kept his gun pointed on the original one. "You try to shoot me," he said, not looking away from the guy he was aiming at, "I shoot your safecracker, and nobody gets that payroll."
The one designated as the safecracker laughed. "I'm not the safecracker. He's the safecracker. I'm the leader."
"You're both. You're the one who walked in and looked at the safe. He's the one who walked in and drew a gun on me. That makes you the safecracker and him the backup." His gun never wavered and he sounded completely calm.
"Look, Miss, my partner can shoot you faster than you can pull the trigger so just put the gun down sit at that desk chair."
Lex's head tilted, but his skeleton didn't reveal what expression was on his face. "Would you really shoot a woman?"
"I wouldn't test the assumption we wouldn't."
Lex hummed. "You're probably right. That sounds unwise. And I really don't want to get any bloodstains on my new dress. I just had it made. My fiancé, that's the conductor of this train, Clark Kent, have you heard of him? Well, he said purple looks good on me, what do you think?"
For a moment, there was no answer, then the safecracker shook his head. "I think you're trying to buy time."
"Wow, you're good."
"Shoot her."
"Wait! I'll move." But Lex didn't.
The leader gave him three seconds and still Lex's didn't so much as shift a muscle. "I said, shoot her."
But Clark and the marshal had gotten there and the door swung open with a crash. Both robbers spun their guns toward Clark and the marshal and Lex got off two shots. Both guns clattered to the floor without firing a shot and Lex held his gun on the backup man. "Marshal, do you have a couple sets of cuffs? I've got a gunman and a safecracker for you." The marshal tossed a set of cuffs to Clark, then moved on the leader with a drawn gun and another pair of cuffs.
Once they were both secured, each with a set of cuffs, then additionally tied with rope, the leader on the desk chair, the backup man on the bed, the marshal turned to Lex. Without putting away his gun yet, he said, "Miss Jenkins, give your gun to Mr. Kent and tell me when the heck you learned to shoot like that."
Lex did give over the gun and Clark recognized it as the one that he normally kept in the back of one of his desk drawers. When Lex had found it or started carrying it around, if he had been carrying it around, Clark couldn't say. Lex looked guilelessly at the marshal. "I grew up in a mountain town. Dad had some guns and some targets set up out back and there wasn't much else to do."
"Miss Jenkins, don't lie to me. I know who your father is, and I thought I knew his Kid couldn't shoot. So when did you learn how?"
Lex looked over at Clark, eyes wide and questioning. Clark grimaced and nodded, touching a finger to his ear then looking significantly at the door, which he hoped communicated that the man had eavesdropped on their private conversations. By the dismay that crossed Lex's expression, he supposed it worked well enough.
When he spoke though, he held onto the same calm he'd had throughout the attempted hold-up. "I pretty much did tell you the truth. My dad had guns and targets to practice on, so I did, starting when I was eight. I'm nearly as good as he is. He's a lot faster, but I hit exactly what I want to hit. I have a different opinion of what constitutes a target than he does, though, so when I aim for the bug flying by your ear instead of the heart of the target, he thinks I missed." Lex shrugged, "It's not so bad being underestimated." He jutted his chin toward the two prisoners, "These guys never saw me as a threat or they really would have tried to shoot me. You've met my father?"
"Once or twice. Heard a lot about him, too."
Lex nodded, trying to keep casual. "He gets around."
"That he does. You're not how I imagined his Kid would be like."
Lex smiled, a little wary and a lot nervous. "Recent revelations suggest he might not be my real father."
"Mmm," the marshal hummed noncommittally. "Think you'll see much of him, now you're getting married?"
Shaking his head, Lex answered, "I doubt it. I'm going out East for College for a few years, then hopefully Clark and I will settle down and maybe start a family. Clark doesn't want me on these routes very long, and I'm beginning to understand why. I could've gotten shot today."
"You seemed pretty calm," the marshal observed.
With that same perfect calm he'd shown the robbers, Lex held the marshal's gaze as he said, "I know better than to show weakness to predators."
The marshal nodded, and put his gun away. Looking at Clark, he gave his verdict. "Enjoy your marriage, Mr. Kent. You found yourself a real firebrand, but I think you can keep her in line."
Lex's face flushed, but he held his head up. "Marshal."
The man's expression softened as he turned back to Lex. "What is it, Alexia?"
Lex blinked slowly, then gave his head a light shake. He gave a cautious smile, then darted a look at the two prisoners. "Do you suppose these guys have any bounties on them?" It almost certainly wasn't what he'd originally intended to ask, and it wasn't quite up to Alexia's normal performance, but even Clark wasn't entirely sure what was expected of Lex right now and he had known there was a possibility of being allowed to carry on the original plan.
"They didn't give any names when they told you that we were getting robbed?"
Lex shook his head. "No, I yelled for Clark when I heard the door getting picked. Then I got his gun from the desk and got in front of the safe to hold them off until you guys got back. They never bothered to tell me it was a stick up. They just said get out of the way."
"You heard them picking the door lock?"
"You know who my dad is," Lex said giving him a look that said 'you're missing the obvious here'. "I'm good at hearing stuff like that."
"Right," the marshal said, grimacing with chagrin. "Well, you should know that if they don't announce their names on arrival, they're usually small fry."
Lex sighed in overdone disappointment. "That's what I was afraid of. I suppose you can't catch the Luthors at every holdup."
The marshal gave him an odd look. "No, you can't." The train whistle blew then, signaling the approach on Spokane station. "Kent, go on and finish checking tickets. Your girl and I will hold things down here. Give her your gun again."
Clark gave them an uncertain look, but the tension from the interrogation seemed almost completely gone already. He nodded, gave Lex the gun and a light kiss, and left them alone. When he got back, they were deep in a debate and the two prisoners were looking a little concerned.
"No," Lex was saying, "I completely disagree. The bounty system as it stands creates more problems than it solves. People like the Luthors get off on how big a price is on their heads and they go about committing more crimes just to jump the price and get more notoriety. It's like a contest to them. They don't give a fu- I mean, they don't care about the bounty hunters because bounty hunters are, by their very nature, greedy creatures and can be easily bought off. That, and they think they're invincible and will never get caught anyway.
“Meanwhile guys like these," he waved the gun casually at the prisoners, "slip through the cracks and they can rob dozens of trains and since they don't introduce themselves, nobody can tie them all together, and folks will just assume they're all done by different groups, and they can keep on robbing with impunity. I think it ought to be more standardized. This amount for thugs, that amount for gunmen, another amount for safecrackers, another for gang leaders. Obviously, there should be some variation to account for first time offenders, habitual offenders, and level of skill but there ought to be ranges of what you can expect to get for any particular kind of criminal that gets taken into custody."
When Lex finally wound down, the marshal was ready to offer his rebuttal, but Clark broke in. "You two are not discussing law enforcement tactics, are you?"
"Your girl has some interesting theories on the subject, Kent."
"I'm sure she does, but we're pulling into the station now. Are you going to need us at the courthouse to give testimony?"
"Yes, but not immediately. First, I need you to help me bring these men to the sheriff. Alexia, you'll guard the payroll in the meantime?"
Lex blinked. "Me?"
"You did a fine job earlier, I don't see why not. Do you want me to deputize you?"
He looked even more confounded. "You can deputize me?"
"Normally, I wouldn't deputize a woman, but you've shown yourself capable."
"Um, okay."
The marshal pulled out a deputy star and handed it to Clark. "Pin this on your girl. I wouldn't want to accidentally touch the lady’s breasts." Lex stared at the pin for a long moment after Clark put it in place.
The train whistle shrilled again, and the train slowed to a stop. Clark went to off load the passengers, then came back to collect the prisoners and escort them to the sheriff. When they came back to the cabin, Lex was pacing, his tin star flashing in the morning sunlight that shone through the cabin window. As soon as they were in the room, Lex was in front of them. "Are you insane?" he demanded of the marshal. "You fucking know who I am and you deputized me?!"
"The money's still here, isn't it? You didn't flee, did you?" the marshal asked rhetorically. "It was a test, Lex Luthor. One I'm pleased and not at all surprised to find you passed with flying colors. I'm going to let you go, on three conditions." He waited to make sure they were both listening. "First, if I ever hear of Kid Luthor doing any sort of criminal activity, I will personally track you both down and see you behind bars. Second, you will become Clark Kent's bride so that he may continue to monitor you in close quarters. Third, you will go East for several years, go to College, and return a respectable member of society."
Lex nodded easy agreement to all conditions as he had pretty much already given the same promises to Clark already. Not exactly in those words, but in that spirit. "I so swear."
The marshal nodded back, closed his eyes and sighed, looking momentarily old. He opened them again and looked seriously at Lex. "Tell the truth this time. How old are you, really?"
"I believe I'll be nineteen in three months."
Clark nodded agreement, because that matched with the priest's estimate that the other angel was close to a year old at the time of the meteor shower.
The marshal accepted it this time. "You come across as much younger."
"You met me at a very tough time. I'm going through a lot of changes right now. It's a little overwhelming."
Another nod, then a moment of hesitation. "If you were any other boy, I'd strongly recommend against your current course. But as a federal marshal, I find there are too many advantages in making Kid Luthor a married woman to try to dissuade you. But I need to ask: You are aware you will lose many of your rights by becoming a wife, right?"
Lex huffed a brief laugh. "What rights? I robbed my first bank when I was fourteen, and now I'm wanted in six states and territories. My father’s a tyrant. The only rights I have pertain to due process – trial, jury, no cruel or unusual punishment - if I get captured, and even that I waived when Clark found me. Owning property in my own name isn't really important to me right now. Hell, I'd settle for knowing what my own name is."
The marshal nodded once more and drew in a deep a breath. "You're a good person, Miss Jenkins. It's been a pleasure knowing you. I'm going to borrow your fiancé to bring the payroll to the bank, then the two of you can go on with your life."
"Thank you, Marshal."
"Pleasure, Miss. Oh, and I'll talk to who I can about getting those prices dropped from Kid Luthor's head, maybe getting him a pardon."
Lex's eyes went wide. "Really? You'd do that? Oh, God, Clark. An invitation. We need to give him an invitation to the wedding. Do we have anything that looks like an invitation?"
"Lex. We don't have a date yet. We can send him an invite later; I know how to reach him."
"Right. Well, consider yourself invited, Marshal. You can be one of the bride's - Shit, Clark, he's my only guest. The church is going to be very empty on my side. And, fuck, who's going to - Marshal, how do you feel about giving the bride away? I'm sure as Hell not going to ask Dad to do it."
Clark wasn't sure he'd ever seen any marshal look quite that stunned. "You, the former Kid Luthor, want me, a federal marshal, to walk you down the aisle at your wedding?"
"I can't imagine who else I could ask. Besides, you did give me the birds and bees talk."
The marshal laughed. "Oh, good Lord. Your faces when I did. I don't think I've ever seen better acting." Clark looked at Lex and Lex looked back at him. The marshal watched them both. "Oh, sweet mother of God. You weren't acting. Look, boys, Lex might be wearing a dress, but that does not make him a woman. He can not bear children."
"He makes it sound so obvious now," Lex grumbled to Clark.
"Won't he be surprised when we figure out how to work angel reproduction?" Clark mumbled back, quieter than Lex's comment so that it wouldn't carry to anyone without angel heaing. Lex gave him a Look, but said nothing.
Returning to the matter at hand, Clark moved toward the safe, "Well, Father of the Bride, I suppose we should get the payroll to the bank now."
"Yes, of course."
“Um, Clark, Marshal?”
They both turned to look at Lex. “It’s under the bed. If I was held up again, I didn’t want to risk getting shot for not letting them near the safe.”
