smallville fanfic: a special difference
Fandom: Smallville
Title: A Special Difference
Word Count: 453
Rated: PG
Pairing: Clark and Lex - friendship
Summary: It's too early for him to be delving into a conversation about Clark.
Notes: Just a little bit of cute smushiness :)
A Special Difference
Lex enters the kitchen every morning to the smell of fresh coffee.
His cook, Janine, knows just how he likes it but he doesn’t ever remember telling her. He once decided that it was in her nature, to know someone without even talking to them. It’s one of the reasons he hasn’t fired her yet.
When he pours himself a second cup on a Saturday morning, newspaper tucked under his arm, tie loose and jacket barely over his shoulders, Janine is there handling the recently-delivered produce from the Kent Farm. She’s always telling him how effective their harvest is in her salads. He can never disagree.
As she stuffs a few tomatoes into the bottom of the fridge, she turns to him. “That sweet boy sure knows how to pack crops. Everything’s fit so snug in their boxes.”
Lex merely grunts in response. It’s too early for him to be delving into a conversation about Clark. He takes a swig from his mug.
Janine closes the fridge door and stares disapprovingly at the lack of magnets and photos covering the surface like she always does. He’s allowed a picture of his mother to be placed in the dead center but that’s all. His father is too precarious for such an honor and there’s really no one else worthy.
“You like that Kent boy, don’t you?”
Setting his cup down and unfolding the paper, Lex swallows. “He’s different.”
Janine is the only one in the castle he can have a real conversation with.
She smiles and says nothing more.
Five hours later, when Lex returns from a rather draining conference, he moves to the kitchen with the smell of warm cookies on his mind. There’s a plate of a dozen sitting on the counter, with a small note attached.
“Different” means “special” in the Luthor book.
He crumples it and tosses it in the trash bin, reaching into the refrigerator for milk. He pauses then, hand wrapped around the container, the coldness of it numbing his hand.
About three centimeters from his mother’s picture is a photograph of a sheepish-looking Clark, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched up as he grins from ear to ear at the camera.
He knows the photo was taken while he was at work, because he saw Clark on his way home and the clothing was the same.
Setting the milk on the counter beside the cookies, he reaches out and moves Clark’s picture so that it touches his mothers.
Satisfied, he also sticks his hand in the trash and pulls out the wrinkled note.
On the back he writes a note for himself to give Janine a raise.
Title: A Special Difference
Word Count: 453
Rated: PG
Pairing: Clark and Lex - friendship
Summary: It's too early for him to be delving into a conversation about Clark.
Notes: Just a little bit of cute smushiness :)
A Special Difference
Lex enters the kitchen every morning to the smell of fresh coffee.
His cook, Janine, knows just how he likes it but he doesn’t ever remember telling her. He once decided that it was in her nature, to know someone without even talking to them. It’s one of the reasons he hasn’t fired her yet.
When he pours himself a second cup on a Saturday morning, newspaper tucked under his arm, tie loose and jacket barely over his shoulders, Janine is there handling the recently-delivered produce from the Kent Farm. She’s always telling him how effective their harvest is in her salads. He can never disagree.
As she stuffs a few tomatoes into the bottom of the fridge, she turns to him. “That sweet boy sure knows how to pack crops. Everything’s fit so snug in their boxes.”
Lex merely grunts in response. It’s too early for him to be delving into a conversation about Clark. He takes a swig from his mug.
Janine closes the fridge door and stares disapprovingly at the lack of magnets and photos covering the surface like she always does. He’s allowed a picture of his mother to be placed in the dead center but that’s all. His father is too precarious for such an honor and there’s really no one else worthy.
“You like that Kent boy, don’t you?”
Setting his cup down and unfolding the paper, Lex swallows. “He’s different.”
Janine is the only one in the castle he can have a real conversation with.
She smiles and says nothing more.
Five hours later, when Lex returns from a rather draining conference, he moves to the kitchen with the smell of warm cookies on his mind. There’s a plate of a dozen sitting on the counter, with a small note attached.
“Different” means “special” in the Luthor book.
He crumples it and tosses it in the trash bin, reaching into the refrigerator for milk. He pauses then, hand wrapped around the container, the coldness of it numbing his hand.
About three centimeters from his mother’s picture is a photograph of a sheepish-looking Clark, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched up as he grins from ear to ear at the camera.
He knows the photo was taken while he was at work, because he saw Clark on his way home and the clothing was the same.
Setting the milk on the counter beside the cookies, he reaches out and moves Clark’s picture so that it touches his mothers.
Satisfied, he also sticks his hand in the trash and pulls out the wrinkled note.
On the back he writes a note for himself to give Janine a raise.