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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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svfic: safe little words, clark/lex
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
This is a story of a Girl who shall remain nameless, who wrote fic in my folder and forgot about it. You might say, tragic, and so it is, becaue this is a bastard story, unclaimed by it's creator, left alone and lost in the world. It's creepy, frankly, if I wrote something and don't remember it. More logical someone else did it and I had it saved on my hard drive.

*sighs* Okay, it'd be more comfortable if someone else had, because it's scary to think you can write a fic and not remember it.

This Girl, who could be called jenn, found it and read it and then said, I kid you not, to those chatting wiht her...

"I didn't write this."

Evidence suggests I did, what with it being in my folder and all. Helpful people point it out to me. Numerous times. I accused all my friends of writing fic and somehow transplanting it into my computer--before you wonder, I was reading Josselin's Alien!B/J fic and so, I thought this was very possible.

Still.

It doesn't feel like mine-mine. I spellchecked and edited, and I"m posting it, because if I didn't write it, I want the person who *did* to jump up in memory, or if someone in AIM was around when I was allegedly writing it and can guarantee it's maternity.

Post Season Two fic, AU on, no season three canon to be found. If you haev some vague memory of seeing it before, or me showing it to you, leap up and testify, and yes, you can tell, I've fallen off the good-no-drugs-to-sleep wagon and am grudgingly depleteing my small stash of Ambien for a good cause.

I might have posted this before, so ignore if I have, or maybe I imagined that. If I did, you'd think I'd imagine something more intereting than this.



He was injured, Helen had said. Hurt. Memory loss. Coordination. It'll be a while before he's healed, she'd told Mom. Before he'll want visitors, even friends. Mom hadn't said that this wouldn't be a problem.

But. Clark's been watching.

Temper fits and shocks of violence, like when Helen's heels annoyed him and he set the closet on fire. Throwing a lamp through a plate glass window at dinner. Lex, all strangely naive surprise after, looking around as if he wondered what had happened to him, where it had come from.

Clark likes to watch from the roof sometimes, x-raying down to see Helen try to keep control. It shows on her face, how she flinches when he comes in the room, and she's teaching him, all right. At first, he'd do anything she said. She called it love. She called it safe. She told him he was fine, he was fine, everything was fine, and she'd even meant it, believed it when she said it.

Clark thinks that might be changing.

Lex broke into the room last night, after all.

That room. The one that's Clark's, where Lex goes to try to remember. Long, elegant fingers, taped knuckles from putting his fist through the wall and barely missing a servant's head, stroking down screens and over consoles with reverent fingers. Glimmerings of light in very blue eyes when he watches the monitor.

Clark watches Helen walk in and stop, and Clark wonders if she knows yet that she's being trained as well. When Lex's head snaps up, she takes a single step back. "You shouldn't be in here," she tells him, and if her voice doesn't give away her fear, her body does.

"I own it, don't I?"

They yell for a while. It's not interesting. Lex won't hit her--but he's learning all the other ways to hurt her. Maybe even ways he didn't know before because he never wanted to. That's a difference that Clark likes a lot.

He likes it even more that Lex doesn't return to her bed that night. She's curled up in their sheets, plotting what to fix, but he's drinking straight whiskey and watching history being rewritten.

Clark does really wonder what exactly Lex remembers.

"You were a lot more obsessed than Helen said," Clark tells him when he pushes open the study doors. No one here does that anymore--too much danger from the unstable. Helen can use all the medical jargon she wants. Clark knows exactly what's happened.

Blue eyes flicker briefly. "I noticed that." It's a parody of Lex's elegant walk; this one all unleashed threat, bone-honest in what it wants, and it wants everything.. He'll learn to hide it better one day, but that's the future. "Your--family said you were away."

Clark smiles. "You didn't look very hard for me. Recovering from a--head wound?"

Lex doesn't look uncertain, just angry. Clark can feel the rage from here like heat, and it's--Jesus, it's good. He wants to bathe in it, channel it, focus it. They could light the world up with what he's feeling off of Lex. Feeding off of. "What do you want?"

Not yet subtle enough for mindgames. Too pretty in black and white, no jacket, no tie, unbuttoned shirt. Traces of Helen's lipstick before he pushed her away. Clark's never seen Lex turn down sex.

Helen hadn't either. Clark smiles at the memory of her shock when Lex walked out, barefoot and still dressed.

"We have a destiny," Clark murmurs, and Lex's eyes fix on him, blindingly blue. "Remember that?"

"Sometimes."

Sometimes. Sometimes, before the room, Lex would be alone and say his name like he was tasting it. Associating the word with whatever passed for active memory in his head. Before Helen lost control, Lex was learning how to slip the leash in other ways. She told him so many truths that Clark's not sure how much he'll need to work, and the twist of the head, the arched eyebrow, sends an ache through him that he didn't expect.

"I saved your life," Clark tells him softly, and Lex flickers, picking up a glass of vodka. Straight, no breaks. The coordination of an athlete when he leans into the desk.

"Helen--" Hadn't told him that. Not really. Not enough.

"She likes it when you jump for her, you know."

The glass is tossed against the wall--such a hair trigger, like touching match to dry kindling. It's hot, Clark likes it, wants to see it everywhere, feel it on his skin. Confusion and rage and so much frustration beneath the surface. "What the hell do you think you know?"

Helen's told a lot of truths, but all the wrong ones. "I know you."

He did. The one buried in an ocean, like Clark's buried beneath this ring. Neither of them are useful, best forgotten. Clark smiles when Lex's eyes narrow. "I don't remember."

"You don't need to. I can tell you what she won't. About that room. About that life. About me."

Knowledge is still Lex's weakness, and Clark slowly approaches. Lex can't hurt him, but then again, he doesn't want to be the focus of Lex's rage.

"Tell me."

Clark grins and sprawls on the couch. Hungry eyes running over him like a touch. That'll come later. Not too long, though. Not long at all.

"I'll give you everything you want, Lex."

*****

Clark likes how she wakes up, sudden, because she has good instincts. Her eyes are on the gun that Lex is caressing her face with, the muzzle pressing to the corner of her mouth.

He's not wearing his wedding ring. Clark's got that in his pocket.

"Awake?" Smooth voice, mocking and tender. "You said I should ask you if I have any questions. I have some."

Her eyes are huge, and Clark's not sure she even sees him, sitting at the foot of the bed, the best show on earth. "Lex." She wants the phone, Clark can see it, and he helpfully places it beside her, cord torn from the wall coiled neatly around. "What--what's wrong, Lex? What did--what did he say?"

"Did you know I have x-ray vision?" Clark says, and her eyes jerk to him. Lex is still looking at her too hard--all those impossible memories that are fucking around with him, but Clark thinks there's enough of him in Lex's head to take care of that now. *We have a destiny, Lex.* No one was coming between them. Not now. Not like before. "I used to x-ray him a lot."

Her eyes sharpen and he wonders what kind of woman can still think like a scientist when a gun's running over her lips. She only catches on after. I'll never tell, he almost says, but he doesn't, because he doesn't plan to. That's something no one needs to know. Our secret, he lets his smile say. Mine, yours, Lionel's, and whatever lab of scientists stupid enough to work for Lionel die tonight. "She tried to kill you, Lex. That's why you can't remember. I saw the differences in your bones. That's why you cant' remember."

She told too many truths and all the wrong lies. She's just not very good at this.

He likes how Lex's fingers twist in her hair and jerk her head back. Her eyes are huge. "I didn't--I swear to God, I didn't, I never--"

"Sure you did. I can see every difference." Clark's loving this, and he pulls himself up, stretching out so he can look into her face. "And all the differences that aren't there." A lifetime of breaks and bones. But the mutation bred true, right down to the cells. He'll have to save Lionel's research. Maybe those scientists won't die. He just has to make sure Lex never knows. "I saw everything, Helen."

She might tell the truth, Clark worries, and that might prove problematic in the short run, and he really does want this easy. But Lex takes care of that, picking out a pillowcase and twisting it, pushing it between her wide-open lips and settling back. "we have a lot to discuss, Helen," Lex says, and Clark can see his fingers itch for her throat. It's sweet. Clark thinks how good it will be to fuck Lex beside Helen's body. Even better if she's alive to watch. He crawls up to her ear and licks across it. She doesn't smell like Lex anymore.

"I own him. Like neither of us could have had the other one. Thank you." When he pulls back, Lex ties her wrists.

Sitting crosslegged on her bed, Clark thinks it could be fun to watch her scream.

the end


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I'm sorry you don't remember writing this. It's Fab!

I always love when Bad!Clark gets together with an Unhinged!Lex. Together they would light up the world.

I love it even more when even in clone form, Lex is uncontrollable. Helen and Lionel really never have understood when there is in Lex. It is fun when their hubris comes and bites them on the butt.

Her eyes sharpen and he wonders what kind of woman can still think like a scientist when a gun's running over her lips.

It's a shame they never gave Helen that much visible complexity on the show. With it she would have been almost worthy of Lex.

I'm sorry you don't remember writing this. It's Fab!

Heh. Thanks! It's really *creepy*, to be honest. I keep looking for myself in it and can't quite find anything I can latch on to. Which may be a good thing.

I always love when Bad!Clark gets together with an Unhinged!Lex. Together they would light up the world.

I love Lex crazy. He'll be so much happier when he gives up that entire claim to sanity bit.

*Hugs* Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

If you didn't write this, I thank whoever did. Because it' sick and hot and wrong and so very, very good.

*grins* And very technically, it's not even slash yet.

It's frustrating. I must have been snippeting for someone late one night, but dammit, I wish I knew who! There aren't many who are patient enough to sit me through these.

*sighs*

Thanks very much for the feedback! I'm glad you liked it!

mmmmmmmmm...yumyum. What a way to start a birthday!

SV fic from jenn. The very best kind. Especially this part

' Knowledge is still Lex's weakness, and Clark slowly approaches. Lex can't hurt him, but then again, he doesn't want to be the focus of Lex's rage.

"Tell me."

Clark grins and sprawls on the couch. Hungry eyes running over him like a touch. That'll come later. Not too long, though. Not long at all.

"I'll give you everything you want, Lex." '



Ooh! You should have told me! I'd have made you something brand new!

*hugs* Happy birthday, sweetie!

And thanks. *hugs* I'm glad you enjoyed it.

jenn fic!

I wuv you.

Sitting crosslegged on her bed, Clark thinks it could be fun to watch her scream.

Should it disturb me that I think the same?

Mmm. No. *g* It's prettiness, all obsessive and stuff.

*hugs* Thanks!

Good to know ;) *hugs*

I don't remember it but it has your finger prints aaaaallllll over it! LOL

Bad Clark and crazy!Clone!Lex... very very interesting! *g*

Is the real Lex still on the island? Or is he dead? I like the way you wrote Red!Clark - he is still on red, isn't he? Too many peopoe write him like he's evil. He's not. He's amoral - there is a difference.

thanks for posting this!

I left *fingerprints*? Dirty ones?

Heh. The only thing I really noticed was the way I misspell Clark when I write fast, which argues this was AIM related. I wonder if it's in my AIM logs somewhere.


Is the real Lex still on the island? Or is he dead?

I kind of like the idea of him being dead. This circumstance would be enough to unhinge him and two crazy Lexes would a vortex in space/time make. Or intense, intense prettiness. Either/or.

I like the way you wrote Red!Clark - he is still on red, isn't he?

Very much.

Too many peopoe write him like he's evil. He's not. He's amoral - there is a difference.

The lack of morals rather than the deliberate choice to act *against* morals, yeah. *pets Amoral!Clark* Pretty.


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*snickers*

Amnesiac evil.

Yes, I will work on strange, strange threesome fic. Though you do get I am still staring at it blankly, wondering if Justin is, you know, *crazy*. Not that he doesn't have every right to be. Still, though.

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Yay! You posted this! I know *I'm* having fun thinking of Clark watching her scream.

*happyplace*

So, hi! Is there anything I should be doing for hotels? Or should we stick a poll up, narrowing it down to three, or should we call Pan American--or something? No internet here till Friday but if there's something you'd like me to do, I can get to e-mail.

*fly by tacklehug*

So, hi! Is there anything I should be doing for hotels? Or should we stick a poll up, narrowing it down to three, or should we call Pan American--or something? No internet here till Friday but if there's something you'd like me to do, I can get to e-mail.

I have new nominations for you to look at, so when you get online, we can go over them. One I'm *really* attracted to, adn it has a lot going for it, but it *is* a little more than Pan-American, so I'm thinking that giving some options might be a good idea, if for no other reason than someone might have stayed in one and know better than we can what we're dealing with. I want to reserve by the end of the month to see if we can get a better deal on teh rooms, but I'm still not sure if we should get four or five.

*sighs* Oh the drama. *g* Also, bunk beds. *smiles sweetly* Did I tell you about hte nice place with the bunk beds? Metal ones, even.

*whistles*

it's always a good day when you have something twisted to say about smallville. lovely clark. lovely lex. lovely twisted pair. thank you!

*looks at you*

Are you sure you don't remember this? It sounds like your writing.

But, yes, even if you have no memory of it, it's very good. Enjoyable, and creepy, and just... causing shudders in the good way.

I can't tell at this point. It's been almost a year or so since written, accordint ot he dates on the doc.

But thanks. Creepy is *good*

*hugs*

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