Title: The Sixteenth Kind
Author: hitokamei@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: PG
Pairing: Lana/Lex
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the WB, or DC, or someone. Title from the poem by Macdara Woods, "The Sixteenth Kind of Fear."
Author's Note: I haven't been reading Lana fic. If this resembles anything out there, I'd appreciate a heads up.
*
Lana strolled from the living room to the kitchen. Her thick woolly socks brushed the honeyed floorboards soundlessly. She sighed, slumping against the doorframe and gazing around.
Everything was neat and tidy, not a thing out of place, not a surface that wasn't sparkling. Not a thing to do.
She made it to the sink, twirling the tap on, playing with the volume. Looking out the window, seeing colours waver, she tried to make herself concentrate. She wasn't crying anymore, she just couldn't see very well. Her eyes snapped back into focus when the pouring water bounced off the steel, leaving droplets running over her hand. Stopping the flow, she grabbed a sheet of kitchen-roll, and thought about wiping the sink dry. Instead, she dragged the paper over her skin, and dropped it on the counter, so she'd have something to do later.
There wasn't anything to eat. She bent over the packed fridge anyway. After a moment's rooting about among the vegetables and the meat, she gave up, and headed for the junk-food in the cupboard on the other side of the room.
Chocolate, chips, dip... Probably a lot of stuff that she shouldn't have. She needed to take care of herself. She stared at it, trying to make a decision. Eventually, she gave up again, and grabbed the first thing that came to hand.
Another trip, back to the television. More shuffling, and she tried to remember what she had been trying to do. It was hard to peel the top off the container, harder to walk at the same time, but she managed to traverse the slippery floor without falling.
Ah, she'd been trying to do something. Anything. The phone was back in the kitchen. She'd thought about going over to the Kents', but she wasn't sure that she was up to facing Martha. She could ring Chloe, or one of the other girls she called friends. She could even visit Whitney's mother. Couldn't convince herself that it was worth changing direction.
People were cheering on MTV, bouncing in front of a painted backdrop on what looked like a real beach but probably wasn't, and the sofa was soft enough that she might never get up again.
The doorbell rang.
It took a couple of seconds before she decided she had to answer it. She didn't want anybody to start getting worried. She struggled a little getting her feet out from under her, and once they hit the floor, it took longer than it should have to get to the hall. She didn't really want to answer, and there was a vague impulse in the back of her mind that told her to pretend she wasn't home. To draw the curtains even though the sun was bright, to pull the throw that Nell would have hated from the back of the couch, to huddle underneath it, and stay there.
The chime wasn't repeated, and she had halfway expected the caller to have left by the time she got to the door, but she could see a shadow through the glass. Her fingers felt stiff, but she didn't have any difficulty with the catch.
"Lex."
"Hello, Lana."
She had the feeling she should be saying something, but she was distracted with trying to figure out what he wanted.
"May I come in?"
Oh, of course. "Right, yes. I'm sorry." She stepped back, sweeping her arm out aimlessly, and Lex followed. "Uh, was I supposed to be working today? I didn't think- It is Wednesday, right?"
"Yes, it is Wednesday, and no, you weren't supposed to be working. I just thought I'd drop by. I won't be staying long. I'm not intruding, am I?"
He closed the door behind himself and herded her away from it without seeming to.
"You mean you came by to check on me." Being blunt and realistic had gotten rid of the rest of them; Lana didn't see why Lex should be any different.
"That's an unnecessarily officious way of putting things. Shall we?" He gestured to the right, where the screaming and whooping was drowning out a video.
It wasn't like she had a choice, but she felt like being ungracious. "Fine."
Lex wasn't affected by the petulant tone, merely flashing her a knowing grin before making a beeline for her seat. He glanced contemptuously at the screen before returning his attention to her. "So what did you do today?"
She sank down beside him. "I took a shower." Faux-perky. Showering was actually quite an achievement on the days she didn't have to work, when moving from the bed to the couch was a chore.
"Hmm." He glanced at his watch. "What are you eating?"
A moment of cluelessness, before she glanced down at the package that was still in her hand. "Uh, dip. No, wait, it's Dunkaroos." She dunked a cookie. Cinnamon and vanilla. Not bad. And he was in her house, so... "Do you want some?"
"Sure." She hadn't even started to move when he grabbed one of her cookies and made off with half the icing. She began to glower before she had caught her breath.
"I meant one of your own."
"I know. But where would the fun have been in that?" An intolerable grin glared down at her as he bit the biscuit neatly in half.
Was he trying to annoy her? He was succeeding admirably, if so. And she was annoyed, so she repeated the thought aloud. She felt a split-second of satisfaction, and then it occurred to her that that probably hadn't been the smartest thing to say to somebody who was her boss, even if he was being unconscionably interfering. But Lex's smile didn't dim, and her eyes narrowed.
"What do you want?"
"Don't be so suspicious." His gaze drifted back to the television. "God, where do they get these people? Chimpanzees would be more aesthetically pleasing, and they'd probably be able to read off the cue cards as well." Lana was floundering, glad she wasn't given the chance to speak. "What are you doing tonight?" He had finished eating and was licking white smears from his fingers, sucking at the skin, one fingertip just breaching his pursed lips. It was distracting her, for some reason; she stirred uncomfortably.
"Tonight? Uh-" There was a premiere on, she thought, but it might have been a TV movie, not a real one, and now she came to think of it, it might have been yesterday.
"You're not expecting anyone?"
"No." She had a standing invitation to dinner from half the families of Smallville, but she had rarely taken anybody up on it.
"Good. It's still too early to eat and I have some work to do anyway." Lex was standing, leaving, which was good, but he was still talking, and that wasn't. "I'll be back at six. We can go into Metropolis, if you'd prefer, but if you do, you'll need to change into a dress."
"A dress." Lana was standing too, without quite knowing how that had happened.
"Not that you don't look lovely as you are, but the restaurants there are rather formal. Don't keep me waiting, hmm?"
A sliver of white teeth, more than she had ever seen him smile at her, except right after Nell's funeral, and his back was to her. He strode away, his voice drifting back over his shoulder.
"No need to see me out. I'll be back soon enough. And you'll be ready to go, yes?"
She didn't protest; she didn't have time. The front door closed softly behind him. It was less than a minute before she heard his car pull away.
She flopped back onto the couch. That had been very tiring.