Fool.

He should have stuck to his own kind, where it was clearly understood that there was Duty and there was Play, and the two could co-exist as long as they were never acknowledged simultaneously. And as long as no one got recreation confused with sentiment.

As big a fool as he'd been himself, Jonathan had been a bigger one--quitting the Sharks and running back to Smallville as though it would teach Lionel a lesson. In a way, he supposed it had. No more wide-eyed innocents fresh off the farm; they were too much effort for value received.

He'd tried to save Lex the trouble of learning that lesson the hard way. He'd almost been convinced that--for once--it had worked; Lex had attracted scandal with disappointing regularity for the past six or seven years, but he'd managed to avoid getting himself entangled in anything truly messy. Nothing that couldn't be buried under sufficient amounts of cash.

Until now.

He deleted the e-mail from Dominic. The official report, he'd already forwarded on to his accountants: production data, personnel reports, projected losses for the next quarter. Nothing terribly surprising.

The cover note, however, had caused a raised eyebrow. _It might be worthwhile to send someone to check out some rumors I've been hearing about your son and a local boy named Kent,_ it began. There was a bit more information, background details Dominic had gathered without (Lionel hoped, though the man's discretion was not always what it should be) calling too much attention to himself. There wasn't much there, but what there was...

Jonathan Kent's son. Probably another sentimental, tediously moralistic idiot like his father.

And Lex was...susceptible. Emotional. Impulsive.

This would have to end. Lex would argue, of course--when didn't he?--but that didn't matter. If he wouldn't end it, Lionel would end it for him. For his own good, of course.

Luthors did not take kindly to being made fools of.