valarltd | Fic: Imagination

There was a Smallville Marathon.
So of course there is now fanfic.
*facepalm*

Implied slash. Total AU.

Imagination

The problem with most people was simply that they lacked imagination. Lionel shifted in the very comfortable seat of the Lilian Luthor Memorial Performing Arts Center at Metropolis Prep and patted his wife's hand. Martha gave him a smile, but like all her smiles these days, it was guarded. He didn't like that. She was falling out of love. He would have to make some time to fix this problem.

Lex sat on the other side of his stepmother and watched the graduates file in. Lionel watched him scan the crowd eagerly for his brother's face. He might have to do something about that too. A few words in the wrong ears to make it right back to Lex.

More imagination. He had seen the bond between the boys since the day of the meteor shower, as he held his newly-mutated son, wrapped in the farmer's jacket, and the tiny dark haired boy had reached over and patted Lex's cheek to give him the most adoring smile in the world.

Himself, he had been captivated by the strength and fierce love of the red-headed woman beside him. He had helped with the adoption of the strange foundling, asking no questions but keeping his eyes and ears open. The bugs and cameras at the old farm had still not all been found.

The farmer had no imagination. He had a beautiful wife, and an amazing son and all he cared about was a normal life. The farm, chores, money troubles, they all devoured the simple man's mind. And when one couldn't make proper use of the good things laid before him, one simply didn't deserve to have them.

It wasn't the first murder committed in Smallville by a Luthor. Only this one was much cleaner the McCallum woman's accidental death. After Lillian's death, Lionel waited a decent interval. Then, a small sum paid to a local thug to arrange a farm accident, and a more generous bonus to his own bodyguard to make the thug vanish, had sealed the farmer's fate.

Most people wouldn't have the imagination to step outside of social convention and claim another man's wife and son. They would have been content with unrequited yearning or perhaps a tawdy assignation with the lovely woman.
Too many debts and too much farm had sent the grieving widow to the bank. They had offered no succor, but he had offered her work that let her keep her pride, as his assistant, and a living and child-care arrangement that put her too deeply in his debt to refuse. It was only a matter of time before he made her love him.

Below him, Clark was introduced as valedictorian and began his address. Lionel had offered the best speechwriters in the world, but Clark had declined, saying this was something he wanted to do for himself. Clark's willingness to handle matters on his own was one of the reasons Lionel enjoyed his stepson.

Lex had leaned forward to listen, as if Clark hadn't rehearsed it a dozen time to him. It gnawed at Lionel that he could not foster any rivalry between the boys. The world would eat them both alive if they didn't learn to compete.

He listened with half an ear to Clark and the word “teamwork” struck him. Perhaps that was the solution. It had its place, from time to time, and not simply as morale building propaganda for the lower tier workers. He put the thought of Morgan Edge firmly out of his mind.

If he couldn't drive a wedge between his boys, perhaps he could ensnare them, entangle and enmesh them until they never wanted to be apart. Yes, that was a thought. Lex was openly bisexual, flaunting his latest pretty toy of either sex for any tabloid that wanted a picture. Clark had, thus far, shown no inclination to either sex, and none of the teachers had caught him up to any of the usual peccadilloes at the all-boys prep school.

Lionel smiled and applauded as his son stepped down and the parade of young men across the stage began. Yes, that solution was elegant in simplicity, and neatly Euripidean. After all, it wasn't as if the boys were blood related.

Lex would inherit everything, and Clark would be right behind him, an immovable wall at his back, a clever mind to reassure him and that beautiful, amazing mouth not just to smile at him now, but oh so much more. Lionel steered his thoughts away from the lovely images before they could cause an embarrassing physical reaction, and waited out the mundane ceremony.

Sometimes, all the solution took was a little imagination.