I a while back I wrote this one shot based on the Smallville episode "Lexmas", because it had so much mpreg potential. Since then, I made a small series revolving around that episode. With the final part being done, I wanted to share.Enjoy!
Title: What Could Be (1/3)
Author: SC182
E-mail: supercaptain182@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The way things could have been. A Lex-mas Coda
Disclaimer: The characters are owned by DC Comics and the WB. I am only borrowing them with no intention of monetary gain. *I can't resist, so please indulge me for a moment.*Lex never realized how soothing and hypnotic fire could be until he found himself caught in the thralls of sleep. Well, he didn't know he was asleep until the slight jerk near him startled him awake.
One blink. Then another. He was sure he had something in his eye or maybe he was still partially asleep since his surroundings didn't look familiar. Lex went over his mental list.
One tumbler of sotch. Check.
Sit in front of the fire. Check
Doze off and wake up someplace other than the drafty castle… What the hell!
Lex sat up sharply, eyes darting around wildly. Christmas wreaths, tinsel, ornaments decked all over the place, even a strategically hung ball of holly over a doorway. Either he had been abducted by Smallville's version of Santa or he had a new mutant wife with a Christmas fetish.
Oh God! Please don't let me be married. Please don't let be married… to another psycho.
Usually, Lex was pretty observant, yet the sheer abundance of the Norman Rockwellian decorations covering nearly every visible inch of space, in what Lex assumed to be the penthouse, made his chest tight like the start of an old asthma attack. This was why he easily missed the sleeping figure lying next to him. Lex turned his head slowly. Though Luthors were never supposed to be afraid, Lex was absolutely terrified of what could be lurking beneath the heap of sheets. His only clue was a dark head of hair.
Oh shit, I slept with Lana. Oh shit, I married Lana.
Now, Lex was sitting up sharply, not caring if he shook the bed or disturbed the beast in the bed with him. Lex's intense attention was turned on the room. He was looking for any evidence of pink to confirm his suspicion.
"L…exxx." His name was mumbled beneath the covers sleepily. The voice sounded familiar. He could easily pull the covers back to see who was next to him, but… whatever. He can't take this shit. Somewhere, God or Lionel may be sitting off to the side laughing at his predicament. The last time this happened, he wound up in jail and almost charged with murder.
"Fuck this." Lex hissed. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the bedroom door burst open. All Lex saw was a streak of red before he was hit by something warm and squirmy. "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Come{,} we have to get breakfast."
Lex's supposed assailant was now crawling on the bed. The little boy had to be about three or four years old. He had fiery red hair, so bright that Lex would automatically remember him and huge toothy grin reminiscent of someone else.
Lex was stunned, even more so when the little boy, who kept calling him "Daddy", wrapped his little arms around his neck. The little boy squeezed him with surprising strength, then abruptly let him go so he could crawl over to the other side of the bed.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Lex broke free of his paralyzed state to finally see the newest soon to be ex-Mrs. Lex Luthor. He turned his head to the side, eyes steeled and ready to take in any possible sight. What he found left him with his mouth gaping unceremoniously open in a large vacant "O".
"G'Morning," was yawned slowly. A beautiful bright smile, like the one on the boy, was turned on him, forcing Lex to smile in return. Clark. Clark. Lex's eyes trailed over Clark and landed and stayed on his large protruding belly.
Hairless brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what type of drug had been slipped to him the night before. The melee of thoughts and vows of severe retribution were interrupted by the softest pair of lips he ever kissed, pulling him into a sweet oblivion. "Lana?" Lex gasped out.
Clark's dark brows furrowed. "Were you having another nightmare?" Clark asked with deep concern and care fixed into his voice. One large soft hand stroked Lex's bald head, soothing him.
Lex could only look at Clark with surprised eyes. The sound and the feel of a small tidal wave skating through the waterbed broke their intimate stare. "Mommy! Mommy! Come see da Santa toys!" The little boy tugged on Clark's hand fervently.
Clark shook his head and mock glared at Lex. "Why do you keep telling Connor to call me `mommy', huhm?" Clark poked him with a finger in a teasing fashion. "Well, even if I did carry him and squeeze him out like I'll be doing with this one soon…it's still weird." Clark smirked.
So, he had supposedly gotten Clark pregnant. Well, that was one secret. Lex could barely contain the urge to pat himself on the back for knocking up Jonathan Kent's son. He wondered if Clark had worn white at the wedding.
Another soft peck, this one on the cheek and Clark was off the bed, pulling down his red tank top to cover his protruding belly. Connor tugged on Clark's flannel pajama pants urgently. "Mommy pwweassee! Let's go see Santa." Connor sounded on the verge on tears.
Clark glared at Lex, who could only smile back. If he could sentence Clark to a lifetime of embarrassing moments of Connor calling Clark "Mommy" in public or other importune times, the last few years would be well worth it. The mirth of the situation was settling in, yet as Lex found it layering the bottom of his soul with sugary coated sweetness, he flicked it away like a tiresome over gooey Peep.
Lex looked back at Clark for another moment. Connor was trying to wrap his tiny hands around the mountainous globe of Clark's belly. A smirk cut across his face as he wondered what Clark would say if he called him fat. Clark caught his smirk, returning it with a sweet smile before plopping the very active child in his lap.
"Help Connor with his presents for a minute. I gotta take care of this one first." Clark said as he stroked across the much stretched cotton covering his belly. Clark shooed him away with a wave of his hand and Connor tugged at him with all his little might. His `son' was very persistent at least. Lex had no other choice but to move, since he was officially dismissed.
Lex had been right about his first assumption. The penthouse. The hall, as he silently thanked God, had been saved from the garishly decorations and assault of holiday cheer. The living room was another thing. A huge tree stood against the beginnings of the panoramic window. The base of the highly illuminated tree was full of gifts, shining gift-wrap, bows, and tissue paper clustered beneath the tree in mountains.
Connor released Lex's hand and ran head first into the mounds of gifts. He pointed at the large box in the corner and giggled excitedly. "Daddy, is that foorr meeee!!!" he squealed.
Lex indulged the kid by heading over to the box and reading the tag. "To Connor, from Santa." This was all the invitation Connor needed. The boy dove for the box and ripped the beautiful red and gold paper to shreds.
By now, Clark had materialized by Lex's side with a cup of coffee. He took the cup slowly. He returned his attention back to the happy little boy on the floor and he tried to recall a time when he was that happy himself as a child. Only times before his mother died came to mind.
Lex continued to watch the happy little boy tear through the wrapped packages. Ohs and Ah's filled the room along with high squealing giggles with the sight of new toys. A sweet whiff of strawberries and blueberries drew his attention over to the kitchen. Connor followed the smell like a miniature bloodhound. The boy was off like shot, ready to get some of Clark's promised pancakes.
Breakfast was hot and steaming and waiting on the counter. Lex was never one for breakfast or really any meal, but the sight made him think of Martha Kent's wonderful early morning fare. Lex sat at the counter, torn between watching Clark cook and Connor plow through food; yep, the boy was definitely Clark's son.
Clark pushed a hot plate of pancakes with strawberry toppings in his direction. Clark gave him a soft smile, before reaching into the pocket of his robe to pull out a box. Lex watched the silver box slide across the table.
"Merry Christmas," Clark said before stealing a bite of Lex's pancakes.
Lex opened the box. He moved the noisy tissue paper aside, eager to see the contents of the box. A beautiful silver picture frame sat nestled in the stark white paper. He held it up and instantly recognized the picture. "The bridge?"
Clark nodded happily. Lex would never have imagined it. Looking around the penthouse, the bridge had been the catalyst for all that he could see around him. Connor tugged at his pajama bottoms to get his attention. "Daddy, do you like it?" Connor said in between a mouthful of sloppy pancakes and fruit topping.
"Very much," Lex told his son. Connor grinned and went back to his food. Lex looked at Clark, who also had a dreamy look on his face. He unfolded himself over the counter and turned to finish breakfast. Lex could make out the light rubbing gesture over the round belly as Clark stood away from him.
Lex was ready to say something when it all stopped. Everything faded away except for one corner. In the bright light, a woman with hair the color of flames stood watching him. He would know her anywhere or in any time. "Mother."
She shook her head slowly. "Yes, Alexander," she replied. Lex walked away from the darkness and into the light awaiting him. "This is a surprise."
Lillian's laugh filled the air, just as light and breezy as he remembered. "Alexander, you have seen `It's A Wonderful Life' and have mostly definitely read `A Christmas Carol; all I need to do is make sure you understand."
Lex nodded silently, giving her the floor. "You will do great things, my son. The choice is yours if you do them alone or with your family by your side. You called it destiny when you first met that special person in your life. You knew it then and you know it now."
Lex listened, ready to challenge her on the lies and the deceits he has suffered, but she stopped him. "You cannot undo the past, but you can make the present and the future better and brighter. Wait and all that you seek will be revealed with great detail, patience and love, simply wait."
"Yes, mother." She held his face between her soft pale hands and kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes as her lips touched him in ways long forgotten. When he opened them, there was no more white light; instead, he found the warmth of the hearth and the will to wait. Destiny would take a little longer than he expected, but the future would be well worth it.