Seperis (seperis) wrote,

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svfic: looking-glass, 5 (WAS all sorts of things and Clexbrothersfic)


I'm doomed to a month of Saturday workdays. Currently, I'm somewhere in the range of forty hours of overtime and twenty hours of comp and forty something of annual.

In other words, I could theorietically take off a month.

*grins* Coolness, no?

One of the others has one hundred something hours of overtime. Another one has two hundred something. I'm still minor league here.

Oh. Okay, this may bore everyone, but jump behind the cut tag real quick? Got a question.

This is where I uploaded all the handouts I've been making. Before anyone makes the mistake of thinking I'm THAT researchy, I mostly went through this huge book of help organizations and picked out the ones I thought woudl be most useful for a given sitch and typed them up to make these, so it's not like I'm doing actual work.

Anyway, if you'te not busy or have a thought on the handout for internet searches, share? Especially the job-related websites that have the searches and stuff. And feel free to critique the rest of them. I turned in teh final copies to Super I and Super E today, but I can make changes.

And yes, logovo I know, the Spanish is misspelled. I had a native speaker do the translation, but I think she made a few mistakes in the spelling. Though I'm not entirely sure.

The Medicaid card thing is in direct response to the new system not sending out the Medicaid cards each month, so we have to handwrite them, and we're writing about sixty a day or so. To put this in perspective--this is just people in our AREA, which is only about a quarter of Austin.

Handwrite them. Every person's name, birthday, client number, the dates they are covered for the given month, adn the phone number to call to confirm. It doesn't sound like a lot, but then, after writing fifty? *shivers* Especially wiht multiple kids in a family? *shudders*

Anyway, that's all.


New Obsessions

Tru Calling. Eliza Dushku. I'm already in love with the show. My fingers itch. A lot.


Entertainment Weekly had an article on Alias fanfic. Okay, a blurb, in the normal line of them, but it amused me and made me think of celli. Issue 726, September 5, 2003, if you haven't seen it already, page 41.

*sighs* You know, I AM too fannish. I just don't get why people think this is weird.

tstar78 was all reasonable. She's way too smart.

Jenn: Typing this Alias fanfic article from Entertainment Weekly to Celli.
Jenn: I was SO amused.
Caro: heh
Caro: what did it say?
Jenn: Hmm. It was just the usual "oh, look at the zoo" mentality.
Jenn: Morons.
Jenn: Someone should write a damned article about the real side of fanfic.
Caro: *nods*
Jenn: Not the nonsense. Makes me tempted to do it myself.
Caro: people liek to think weird internet wackos
Jenn: You know, if I had any talent whatsoever.
Caro: it's hard to understand if you're not in fandom
Jenn: Yes and no.
Jenn: Everyone has their obsessiions.
Jenn: I don't get it why fanfic is so differnet.
Jenn: We're a world of storytellers.
Jenn: That's what basic conversation IS.
Jenn: Okay, I've been in fandom too long, haven't I?
Caro: i think the argument most non-fandom people come up with though
Caro: is why not do it with your own original characters you know
Jenn: *Grins* I just--it was a really short period of time between me finding it and me doing it, but I'm a writer. It's in my blood.
Caro: and dude, i get what your'e saying
Jenn: The same reason people rewrite King Arthur and Shakespeare.
Caro: and i agree
Caro: but a lot of people just don't get writing without you know, having some end result--- meaning, being published and paid etc
Jenn: *sighs*
Jenn: *snickers*
Jenn: See, that's the thing.
Jenn: I was upset about my job with my mom and she said the weridst thing for a non-fen.
Caro: what did she say?
Jenn: She said, jennifer, you've written three novels. Didn't you alwasy want to do that?
Jenn: *shocky* It was weird. She was right. I just grinned and wondered how I got such a cool mother.
Caro: that's awesome
Jenn: *grins* Of course, she celebrated with me when I won in the ASCEML awards too. It's like she always understood.
Caro: that's wonderful
Caro: and really rare
Jenn: I mean, she wants me to do it professionally, but not for the money, but only because she thinks I'd love doing that too.
Caro: *nods*
Jenn: And I could buy her a Mercedes.
Jenn: She pointed that part out a few times.
Caro: some people just don't get that, sadly, doing it for the love
Caro: LOL
Caro: mom totally deserves a mercedes
Jenn: *Grins* Who can understand? We have something rare and special and wonderful.
Caro: *nods*
Jenn: Pro writers don't get the smae things we do. They get fans but not friends that are the fans, you know? The group support, the--social stuff.
Caro: *nods*
Caro: totally
Caro: it's really the difference between the job thing and the doign it for the love thing, you know?
Caro: cause in the end, it's still a job, and the people around you are colleagues
Caro: you know what's weird. i've been asked to edit stuff at work a couple of times, silly things, but it's bizarre after betaing for so long
Caro: cause sometimes i have to remind myself we're just trying to sound professional, not make it something you know?
Jenn: *grins* Yeah.

*shrugs* I don't--hmmm.

There's this fan who wrote up a rant on how she feels about being made to feel weird about her hobby--for those who wander around fandom_wank, it's linked from there. I can't even say I didn't sympathize, and all my family and friends that I care about not only know, but are really amazingly supportive. Then again--they get having that pet hobby thing, too, and I suppose they made the connection. Some people collect stamps, some people collect minature pig figurines (piano teacher, don't ask), and some people spend time creating new things in known worlds.

I guess it still strikes me as amazingly bizarre that people who do that thing at football games where they paint themselves up and wander around stadiums and so forth still can look at us and think, weirdos.

Of course, I've been fannish since my third week on discovering it existed, so what the hell can I say?

Hmm. I guess at least half the reason I love fandom is the people I met--Bethy and Te and Celli and Caro and Blackfall and Jessica and Pearl-o and Koi and Jaymalea and the list just GOES on. Being able to discuss shows is great, but to be able to speculate and write on them with other people is the best part of all.

Wow, there's this really, really good chance I got my fannish idealism back. Or it could be the alcohol. I've been up for nineteen hours a day since Monday. I'm punchy. And generally less bitter about the world, since Super I appears to be encouraging.


Snippet from WeirdClexBrothersFic. What, you thought I didn't work on it anymore?

Earlier snippets are in the Memories thing.

On the Evening He Gets Really Bored (ten years later)

The poolhouse was added to the grounds years ago, but the addition of a breezethrough to connect it to the main house is more recent. Clark thinks Mom might have suggested it sono after she married Dad. He has faint memories of the workmen who came in, adding both the breezeway and the large room based over it, where Clark goes daily to practice his control. It's also where his tutor meets him every afternoon. Since he started public school, Mom doesn't want him falling behind in his education.

"Jesus, Alexander. You--oh!" Clark's careful as he kneels just out of sight behind the diving board and the huge palms Mom brought in to make the room look more open. If it was darker outside, the wide glass windows that look out onto the back lawn would show his reflection, which would be--well, embarassing.

And would definitely stop the very interesting show going on.

Peering from the shrubbery, Clark watches Lex duck under the water, the dark-haired girl turning this way and that, trying to see where he went. She has a huge grin and her hair keeps getting in the way. Thoughtfully, Clark shifts to his stomach, giving him an unobstructed view of the pool and Lex come up behind her, pulling once at the string of her red bikini so it slips off, pooling at her waist.

"Alexander!" Her hands come up to cover herself, but she's giggling, head tilted enough for Lex to mouth the water from her neck, and in a few seconds, Lex moves her hands away altogether, cupping her breasts. She makes a sound like a sigh, turning her head, and Clark watches in interest as they kiss.

Lex--is weird about this part of his life, and Clark's not sure why. Dad set down the rule about overnight friends years ago, and more recently, Dad and Lex had a long talk that Clark carefully listened to just outside the office. Something about the children of the help and not to do something, but Lex had only snorted and left, saying he knew better than to play at home.

This, Clark thinks, is what Lex meant by play. Oh.

Mom gave Clark the sex-talk last year--he still blushes about that, and blushes even more when he remembers Lex grinning at him when he found out about it. Pointing out over dinner that practical experience really couldn't be substituted for, and Mom had tried to frown and Dad had read the paper and ignored them. He remembers staring at his dinner, trying to work out some connection between what his mom had said and what was, apparently, the main focus of Lex's attention and time.

Sex. Play. What Lex does when he goes out, and wow, does *this* clarify some things.

He seems to like it, saying things against her ear, and Clark blinks as she turns around against the side of the pool, bobbing a little as Lex's hands disappear. The dark head goes back on a gasp, and then there's--moving. Very, very strange looking moving, and she's locking her hands on the side of the pool, water's splashing a little, and--

--and *oh*. Oh.

Oh, Lex is going to *kill* him if he finds out Clark is watching.

Clark cloes his eyes briefly, pulling his mother's information together with what Lex has told him, what he's seeing trying to reconcile. This is sex. This is Lex *having* sex. With someone. Someone Clark doesn't know and who may be nice, but she's not family and she's not familiar.

It's--weird, actually. The low, pleased sound of Lex's voice brings his eyes open wide, and the girl is making weird, weird sounds, like she's hurt, but he just doesn't think she is. The dark hair makes him think of Lana Lang-Kent, who's always watching him in class and drawing hearts around his name on her notebook for Chloe to see. They both giggle a lot.

This is where it all goes to, though, what it means. Like when Mom and Dad kiss in the living room and then leave, saying they have work to do. What Lex does when he goes out all the time.

Clark shivers and dismisses thoughts of Mom and Dad, trying to focus on the pool, on Lex, who's looking at the girl like--like she's someone special, someone he likes, maybe someone--someone important. Important enough to do *that* with, and touch like that, and kiss like that. Clark frowns, shifting again, an unfamiliar knot forming in the pit of his stomach, knocking a hand into a leaf..

Damn--dammit! Pulling back, Clark freezes in place, but the sounds from the pool only become louder, ending with breathy, quiet sounds, like they're very, very tired. Clark lifts his head just enough to watch his brother and the girl disentangle themselves, the girl doing something under the water before pulling up her top and tying it clumsily.

A few minutes later, they get out, and Clark keeps perfectly still as they pick up robes only feet away, talking about some party or other, and then their footsteps and voices disappear out the door.

A few long seconds, and Clark pushes himself up, frowning at the pool. Lex's swim trunks are hung over the edge, which means Lex is wandering around the house *naked* in a robe. With that girl.

Whoever she was, Lex thought she was worth breaking all the rules of the house. Getting to his knees, Clark stares around the pool room blankly before climbing awkwardly to his feet.

Walking to the edge of the pool, Clark slowly sits down, glancing briefly at the abandoned swimming trunks before looking moodily at the water. Feet dipping in the pool, Clark considers calling over and having someone drain the water and clean the entire thing.

Lex had *sex* here, and there's this scary possibility that it wasn't the *first* time this has happened in the house. Eyes widening, Clark contemplates the idea that, just maybe, Lex has been having sex with a *lot* of people, maybe here, maybe *all around the house*.

Can they move anytime soon?

Kicking the water, Clark forces himself not to look at the corner where Lex and the girl had been. It's not--mature. Something.

"Clark? What are you doing in here?" Clark stiffens at the sound of his mom's voice from the doors, then stares down at the trunks. Oh damn. Mom might--she might notice that. Before he can think about it, he slides over, shivering at the bite of cold, wet material through his shorts and trying to look casual as he turns his head just enough to see her shutting the wide glass doors and crossing the cool white tile, giving the room a cool once-over before looking down at him.

"Just thinking."

Mom's not dumb--she knows when he's prevaricating, even if she doesn't say anything. The sound of shoes being kicked off make his gaze jerk up, but she's lowering herself down beside him, peeling off her hose and throwing them behind her before lowering her feet into the water.

That Lex had sex in.

Maybe he'd better not think about that for a while.

"Everything okay?" she asks, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool. Clark watches her feet draw idle circles in the water before kicking a little, and a glance at her face shows the beginnings of a little grin. "You've been quiet since you started school this year."

Staring at the water hard, Clark swallows. "It's just--" Weird. All those people. It's his second year in public school and it's still bizarre. Dad had wanted him to go to Bringhams like Lex had, but Mom had left it up to him, and--well, it had seemed a good idea at the time for a lot of reasons, several of them Mom didn't even know about.

But now….. "It's okay."

"They give you a hard time for your name?" She sounds a little worried, and wet fingers caress his hair. Leaning into it, Clark closes his eyes.

"Not usually. I mean, not openly. And you know, since Dad doesn't send the limo anymore, everyone sort of--forgets." The students, anyway. The teachers, not so much. Mom pulls and Clark lets his head rest on her shoulder, letting himself relax. She smells like outside, like freshly mown grass and late afternoon air and her perfume. She must have just got home. "It's okay. I mean, basketball makes it fun. I just have to be careful--"

"No--other problems?" The slow stroking's soothing, and Clark almost tells her. Lex has girls. Here. In our home. Where I could see, where *anyone* could see, but where I could see and he likes her and I don't like that.

Yeah, he's not sure how to frame this one in any way Mom will understand. "I wish I'd gone to Bringhams."

"Ah." It could mean anything at all. "You thought you'd see Lex more now that he lives at home?"

Clark frowns. "I see him every day, but--it's not the same. He has--friends with him all the time. It's just--" Frustrating. Lex's friends all look at him like he's annoying and dumb and doesn't understand when they're making fun of him. He's not sure Lex even notices he's there. "I'm being a brat, right? Selfish?"

"No more so than any younger sibling on earth. It's natural to feel left out, Clark. It probably would have been easier if there was another child near your age here--" Her voice trails off, and Clark looks up, seeing the blue eyes narrow thoughtfully. "I'll think on it. Would you like another brother?"

Clark lifts his head, staring at her in surprise. "Mom, are you--"

"No, no. I just became--aware--of some information that I'm sure Lionel would have preferred remain secret." Her grin makes him smile back--he likes to watch Mom outmaneuver Dad. "Lex has a half-brother about two years older than you."

"Really?" Wow. "Does Lex know?"

Mom nods. "Lionel told him a few weeks ago. The circumstances of his birth are unfortunate, but--I had him moved to a more appropriate environment. Considering Lex's feelings for his mother, it seemed cruel to bring him here, nor was he very interested, but--"

"No." More competition for Lex's attention, and someone with blood to bind them. Clark doesn't even realize he's pulling away until his mother's hand drops from his hair. Okay, this is getting silly. Growling to himself, Clark stares back at the water.

"Has Lex met him?" It seems important to know that.

"He's been allowed to visit with the permission of the foster parents I arranged, some trusted LuthorCorp employees. Lucas lives in Edge City. That's why Lex hasn't been home the last few weekends."

Oh, great. Competition in progress. No wonder Lex never has time for Clark anymore. He has a real brother to talk to and hang out with and-- "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Your father hasn't been all that enthusiastic about Lex visiting Lucas and doesn't want you to become involved." Mom sighs softly, leaning over to trail her fingers in the water. "It's been--difficult. Lex was angry that Lionel hid the information and that there was a child at all. And Lionel--doesn't like to admit he's made avoidable mistakes."

"Have you met Lucas?" Clark asks curiously. His mom's eyes flicker up, meeting his, and he sees something in them that makes him relax.

"Yes." A pause. "He reminds me of Lionel."

Clark blinks, resting his elbows on his knees. It's not hard to figure out what she means by that. "Does Lex like him?"

"I suppose he does," Mom answers neutrally. "It's--a very new thing to him, honey."

"He has a brother. He doesn't need another one." Certainly not one who isn't really family, wasn't raised here with them. Catching his mother's eyes, Clark thinks fast. "His studies will suffer if he keeps going out of town every weekend."

"Edge City's not that far away," his mom answers, fixing her gaze on the wall. "But come to think, they may not be staying in Edge City very long."

Clark takes a careful breath, trying not to grin. "Dad says that good employees need to have a wide variety of experience. That staying in one place makes them--lazy."

Clark catches his mother's slow smile. "You've been listening to his lectures."

"It's hard to ignore when he's sitting right beside you and expecting answers," Clark answers on a sigh, allowing himself to match his mother's smile. "Maybe I can ask Lex to go with me to shop for Dad's birthday present on Saturday. It'll probably take all day. And Sunday there's dad's birthday brunch, so--"

"He'll be very busy this weekend," Mom answers with a nod, pressing both palms to the tile. "Both of them. I think I'll make some calls." Pushing herself to her feet, Mom grins down at him. "You're very proactive for your age, Clark. I'm impressed. And you can get off of Lex's swim trunks now."

Clark feels the flush start in his cheeks and spread *everywhere*. "I--he--"

"Her names is Olivia." The smile widens, showing very white teeth. "She just went home--Lex did a very good impression of having no idea whose convertible tried to run me off the road, but let's say I keep up. He's upstairs, if you're curious."

"Getting ready to go out again?" Wow, he really does sound like a brat. Mom laughs again and runs her fingers through his hair. This day just sucks more and more by the *minute*. "Hope he has a good time."

"Maybe you should go distract him." Clark takes the extended hand, gingerly holding the slim fingers while getting himself to his feet. "Clark, it's just a girl. You don't need to worry about her. She's not--family. Lex knows where his loyalties belong."

Clark bites back mentioning Lucas again, half-brother to Clark's no-blood at all, nodding as his mother steps back. "I just--"

"Maybe you should talk to him," Mom says, picking up shoes and hose in one elegant hand. "And take his trunks to the laundry, would you? I'll see you at dinner. We have guests, so both of you need to dress."

"Really?" Picking up the trunks, Clark follows his mother to the door. "Anyone interesting?"

"Associates of your dad's that I'm representing. And the Sullivans. Your father's promoted Gabe recently. His daughter--Chloe? You go to school with her."

Clark nods, brightening a little. "She's pretty cool."

"Good. Run along." She leans up to brush a kiss across his cheek, and it's suddenly weird to realize, wow, he's taller than his *mom*. Grinning back, Clark takes the steps two at a time, declining to use superspeed in broad daylight with the servants about. Not that they'd ever ever say anything, but--well, better safe and all.

Lex's door isn't locked. Clark considers just dropping the trunks on the polished floor and leaving Lex to explain, but--Mom said talk. And Lex has a brother he's been seeing, and Clark--

Biting his lip, Clark raps sharply on the door, forcing himself to stay still, listening to the sound of bare feet padding over rugs and hardwood, before the door opens and Lex is standing there. Fresh from a shower, thank God, whatever (sex) he'd done with that girl (Olivia?) wiped away, and looking at him with a distracted smile.

"Clark." Lex steps back, which Clark supposes is something, and Clark walks in, dropping the trunks on the floor, crossing to the impeccably made bed to sit down, ignoring the desk chair he's never used. Lex bends over, picking up the wet material, then shuts the door carefully.

Clark stares at the wall and waits for Lex to start the conversation.

"Do I need to ask?"

"No." Pulling his knees up, Clark wonders what Lucas looks like. "Dad would kill you if he knew you were bringing--people to the house without permission."

Clark listens to Lex cross the room again, going into the bathroom before coming back out. Lex has a gaze with weight--something you can feel before you look, like he's checking under your skin for the truth. It can be unnerving, moreso when it's unfamiliar, and Clark's never felt Lex look at him like that before.

"Does it bother you?"

Yes, but I have no idea why. Clark tries to school his face to blankness--he's good at that with most people. Luthor thing, he thinks. But he's never had to do it with Lex and it's all new, feels wrong. Like trying to dance on your hands or play frisbee with a plank of wood. Unnatural.

"I didn't think you'd watch, either." Clark can feel Lex crossing the room. "Clark, she's just a girl. Not important."

"You never have time for me anymore." Oh great, and he's just doing super with the entire maturity thing. Biting his lip, Clark pulls his knees closer, heels pressed into the soft bedcover, trying to think of some way to save that. Nothing comes to mind.

The bed shifts--Lex is sitting beside him. Hand on his hair, like Mom's, but totally different, and Clark's body leans in without his mind having any choice. His head's still muttering rebellion when his body slips down and his head rests on a cashmere-covered thigh. It's all instinct. He's still mad. But he can stay mad while Lex pets his hair. There's no dichotomy there.

"I'm sorry, Clark." Lex sounds sorry. And something else, but Clark's not sure what it is, exactly. "I'm just--tense. I'm graduating this year."

"And you need to let off steam. I know the litany."

He gets a little tap on the head for that. "Don't be a brat. I know you're perfectly capable of making simple deductions. I'm graduating soon. Everything changes."

Rolling onto his back, Clark stares up at Lex. "What?"

Lex shrugs. "Metropolis watches me. I've been discreet so far, but it'll only get worse. I entered MetU at age seventeen. The press has been waiting for me to do something stupid in public ever since. So far, they haven't caught me, but Martha's as good as Dad is with publicity. She made me promise I'd be more--circumspect--when the new semester starts."


Lex grins down at him. "Image, little brother. It's all about image." Ruffling Clark's hair, Lex looks away, eyes distant. "We'll run LuthorCorp one day, and for that, having an unsavory reputation would be problematic. At least, with what I want to do. And I want--"

"Public office." They've talked about this before. Folding his hands on his stomach, Clark nods. "But that's years away."

"Years, but not forever. I want to do everything. And I can't do it if my name's smeared." The fingers slow, brushing against Clark's face on the downstroke, and Clark closes his eyes to feel it better. "Besides, it's safer for you if I don't. Martha's right about that. So. Consider this a developmental stage. Short term adolescent rebellion."

Clark nods, eyes still closed. "Are you going out tonight?"

The brush of fingers against his face is soothing, but something else, too, and Clark tries not to lean into it too much. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Mom says guests. But a friend of mine from school will be here, too. Chloe."

The fingers stop. "Chloe?" A completely different voice, and Clark can't identify that strange note at all.

"Yeah, her dad's been promoted or something. She's pretty cool."

The stroking starts again, but not with the same energy. "Hmm. A night with Martha and Dad and guests, or getting very very high and getting laid. This is a tough one."

Clark snickers softly. "I see your point." Developmental stage. Lex had lived at home all during MetU--Dad had been adamant about that. Something about not trusting Lex out of sight. Mom had just shrugged and said it was Dad and Lex's decision, which meant she agreed with Dad but didn't want to say so. Clark wonders now, with a little spark of pain, if this would ever have been Lex's choice. "I just--" Miss you. Sighing, Clark rolls onto his side, drawing his legs up again.

"I'll stay home tonight."

Clark sits up, turning instantly. "You don’t have to." Okay, why did he just say that?

"After that performance?" Lex grins at him, turning a little to face him. The open collar of his shirt shifts a little, and Clark blinks, reaching out without thinking, brushing his fingers over the dark-red skin barely visible above the collar.

She--she *marked* him.

"Clark." Lex doesn't move his hand, and Clark flickers a gaze up before pushing the soft material down. It's--it's teethmarks and--and she did that to him and--

Jerking his hand away, Clark sits back, completely bewildered by his own reaction. Whatever's on his face, though, Lex reads--can always read him, and right now, he hates that.

"I gotta go." Getting to his feet, Clark stumbles a little when he hits the floor, grabbing for the bed, and the inevitable sound of tearing freezes him cold.

It's been a long time since he lost that much control.

"Clark, sit the fuck down. Now."

Exposure counts for a lot--but so does simple conditioning, and that voice is the one from his childhood, the one Lex uses so rarely and so effectively that it demands instant obedience. Taking a breath, Clark slips back up on the bed, fixing his gaze on the ruined comforter, down slipping through already to float to the rug. Tiny snow-like piles forming before his eyes.

Anything that isn't Lex right now.

"Clark, what's wrong with you? This can't be just about Olivia."

So her name *is* Olivia. Running his fingers over the comforter, Clark tries to dismiss the shadowy images of Lex and some guy, some family-that-really-isn't-family, some boy a little older than Clark. Someone like Dad, and Clark sees his mother's face again, cool and thoughtful.

A *brother*, like Clark isn't.

Looking up, Clark takes a breath. "It's--it was just weird, okay?" Clark thinks of his mother, taking a slow breath. She'll take care of this. She takes care of everything.

She always does.
Tags: fic: smallville 2003, sv: looking glass, work

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