CHAPTER ONE

The bullets flew past his dodging body. He ducked under bags of grain, behind carriages and through a crowd of people along the sidewalks of Philly. He didn't think his purSuers would be fool enough to fire their weapons into the milling crowds of men, women, and children.

In the crowds he seemed, or at least felt, marginally safe, but that still didn't make him in any less danger. His instincts tingled and sweat pooled down his back plastering his shirt and vest under his long coat to his lithe agile body.

Lex had managed to take out two of the fools in the beginning of the whole ordeal but even Lex could underestimate a situation, and he hadn't expected more men. He should have. Lionel's training told him he should have. But Lex bucked under Lionel's dominance, his own brand of stubbornness and refusal to listen had put him in this situation.

He had no one but himself to blame, and the men responsible for his endangerment in the first place.

Being twenty-four and an experienced world traveler, Lex knew that danger lurked everywhere. His ability to use a gun and use it well had been the measure of a hair width's - one breath between the next, so close between the end of his life or the end of his enemy's life; Although he was good with a gun and a quick draw, having been well versed and trained in them from an early age. His experience with firearms didn't necesarily guarantee his complete safety and he was very aware of this. Though his father believed differently and a great deal of faith in the cold bit of iron at his waist. Why not believe since it had saved both of their lives a time or two.

Lex knew with age that speed decreased and skill grew sloppy, it had done so with a couple of his adversaries who now lay in the ground long dead. One day, one last gunfight later it would be his end as well. He was smart enough to realize that and he wanted out of the game. And he wanted to live a long life. If it came down to a full out retreat or a drawn out gun fight Lex would choose tactical retreat every time.

The train glinted out of the corner of his eye. He ducked into the ticket office, manfully pushing and shoving his way through the lines of people forcing his way to the teller's window. Arrogantly he slapped down a handful of bills.

"Give me three tickets to any three different places that the train is leaving for right in the next few minutes." Lex demanded.

The teller's lips thinned with anger at first and then eyeing the money and the person in front of him, his eyes widened in recognition. - It had to be him.

No one else fit the description. He was cold and aloof. The one person, the only person under thirty and completely hairless; the one from all of the society pages; the one those clucking women, the high up ones, all gossiped about. - One of the world's richest and most powerful men, heir to the Luthor fortunes and the largest conglomerates ever created.

The teller instead blessed his lucky stars and took the money no questions asked.

As a kind of after thought Lex said, "And for your troubles there's a sizeable tip."

A corner of his mouth flipped up in to the barest hint of a smile. Cool and impersonal.

The teller shivered, that alone plus the bribery was evidence enough for him to verify that this young man in front of him was indeed the eccentric missing heir.

The Luthors were a cold bunch, but no one emphasized that truth more than the one standing before him.

Lex Luthor was pale, very pale, like snow, or ice, with barely a touch of color in his cheeks or lips. With eyes so glacial it would have taken the very entity of the sun itself to warm the ice within, or the fires of hell.

Being a well practiced poker player as well as an excellent businessman, Lex only flinched on the inside when the Teller smiled widely, handed over the three tickets and said quite loudly, insensitively, "Here ya go Mr. Luthor. Have a great day!"

"Yes, I'm sure." Lex said pleasantly with just the smallest touch of the Luthor trademark purr of arrogance. Trying very hard not to check over his shoulder for signs of his purSuers. Hoping desperately the fool hadn't given him away.

The other people in line were not as happy as the teller. They scowled and glared at Lex as he stepped swiftly passed them. Lex didn't bother to take notice nor even attempt to bribe them to make them happier with him. He only had the few hundred left in his pocket. Besides all of that, no one had ever given a damn about him so, why should he give a damn about them?

Though he told himself he didn't give a damn about what people thought of him, in actuality, he was a tender hearted individual who did care. He cared more than Lionel Luthor had ever taught him to. He felt guilty for jumping ahead of the impatient crowd of people behind him, he felt quite hurt by it all, and hated himself for feeling that way. He was a Luthor and above all of that his life was in danger, this wasn't some rich man's whimsy, he needed to be on one of the trains and he needed to be on one right now.

They had always been envious of him. He was a Luthor, he was rich and powerful and he didn't need anybody to like him. Allies were one thing, friendship, however, was quite another all together different thing, and every friend he had ever known had always needed something from him. - Well except Bruce; his only friend in the world who had never wanted anything from him, Bruce had been an equal with money and power in his own right, his only want from Lex was to make Lex happy.

So-called friends had merely used him and seen him as an advantage for them in social climbing or in matters of business and financial counseling. They had never related to him as a human being, as just plain Lex, except for Bruce Wayne. Bruce had been the only person he had ever known who had treated him not as a rival or a step up in the world but as an equal, as a brother.

He didn't have time to keep justifying his own actions or brooding on the actions of others. Those assassins could show up any moment. He didn't have time to get lost in his memories.

"There he is!" cried one of his foes.

"Shit!" hissed Lex, emphasizing the slight Irish accent in his voice as he cursed.

He turned a corner then broke out in a full run, coat tails flapping quietly behind him, feet light on the marble floors in their soft leather shoes, hardly making a sound as he loped gracefully along. A black shadow among multiple shadows in the darkened train station halls, lost from sight, seamlessly fading into the backdrop. The halls led deeper and deeper into the catacombs of the train ports.

Lex very carefully ducked into corners and badly lit corridors, thankful for his dark wine colored silk shirt hidden by the dark mesh vest from Paris hugged tight under the black jacket and darker green almost black trench coat he wore, all the rage from Texas, which allowed him to practically disappear in the ill lit train yard.

Though steam and the loud sounds of the train yard usually muffled most sounds and with the added noise of the crowds of people, his purSuers shouldn't have been able to be heard but Lex's senses were on super alert and he was straining to hear one sound out of place. His purSuers footsteps and the jangle of their guns reached him, a whisper of danger, his skin goose-bumped and he knew he had to make it to a train immediately and get hid fast.

Glimpsing at his tickets a sardonic twist came to his lips as he snorted at the destinations printed on the stubs in his hand. "Kansas," "Missouri" and "Mississippi."

The assassins may possibly have been agents sent by his father, he had recognized the Kansas accent of one of them when he'd overheard them speak the moment and a half before they had attacked him. Everything seemed to be leading him back to Kansas.

Back to home sweet home. He thought sarcastically.

It could have been a coincidence or it could possibly be the old man sending him a message. "No matter how hard you run, my son, you still can't get away from me."

Maybe it was time to face down his father and wrest his destiny from the tyrant's hands. But was Lex up to such a challenge and up to winning it?

He needed information and the only way to go about it was to get on that train going Kansas' way and to scout out the old homestead. He decided to go with fate.

He chose his train the 525 to Smallville.

It would not be leaving for another twenty minutes. It was the last train and he suspected his assassins would think he had taken the first or second one instead of the last one. After all, if their lives were in danger they would have high tailed it on the first train and so would most other people. But Lex wasn't most other people. He was a Luthor and he was cunning.

A quick transport out of town and out of danger.

The teller was baffled. "Why are you threatening me? I didn't do anything wrong." He protested.

"Where did Luthor go?" growled the taller of the two, eyes menacing and scary.

The teller babbled. "I don't know. He wanted three tickets so I gave him three tickets. I don't have to answer your questions. You're not cops. You're not even Pinkerton detectives."

"You'll answer our questions or we'll bust a couple of ye'r bones, how's that fer incentive?" hissed the tall one.

The teller gulped and crumpled like mortar from an old building. "Okay, okay, I gave him tickets to Missouri and Mississippi and Kansas."

"When are the trains going to be leaving?" Demanded the tall one.

"Mississippi has already left. Missouri and Kansas are the only two left. If I were Mr. Luthor I would have been on the first train out of here." The teller opined.

"When do the next two leave?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe less, depending on the engineer in charge." The teller quickly replied.

"Shit!" Cried the short one panicked, "Shit! He's probably long gone by now. You heard the teller. We've missed him."

The tall one scowled darkly at the short one. "Luthor's tricky. To tell you the truth I can't rightly say which train I'd take if I was him but what I do know is he aint that simple. I don't think he's on that first train. Maybe he's on the third one or the second one. We need to investigate and quick before the trains pull out of the yard."

The teller was glad to be let go and no longer under their menacing attentions. He watched them leave and was grateful to have survived such a confrontation with little bloodshed. He was glad to be alive. He didn't know whether to wish Luthor luck or to wish the menacing duo luck in their pursuit. Heaven knew the Luthors were not good people but as far as he knew Lex was hardly like his old man as far as he'd heard Lex was an eccentric traveler. Lex had never done anyone harm in his life at least as far as the teller knew and the kid certainly knew how to tip!

Betty-Sue was conflicted. She wanted to do right by her young man but she really didn't want to walk down the aisle again. She quite liked being a widow, well other then the fact that it did get a little tedious and boring at times still, one marriage; as good and as exciting as it had been, was more then enough for her. She had seen the world. Been to fantastic places, helped in the Salvation Army, been a missionary and done good works.

She had thought she was ready to settle down again. Be wedded and rooted to the earth like her mother before her, but now she was positive that she just couldn't do that after all. She didn't want to work on a farm.

She liked traveling. She liked her town houses in New York and Philadelphia. Her husband had not only been a good man but a man of means and wealth. She could live forever on her own with that money bestowed on her by her fine deceased and beloved husband.

What did she have need of a husband for? Clark was a beautiful boy and a dear hearted soul but she didn't love him enough to marry him. She shouldn't have given in to her family and Martha pressuring her. She shouldn't have read those letters and allowed her tender heart to be moved so by their honesty and goodness.

She loved them and thought they were wonderful people but she didn't want to settle down again. She was in her prime. And a widow could go places that maidens could not.

If it had not been for her recent bout with illness Betty-Sue doubted very much that she ever would have agreed to the marriage at all. She had suffered a great illness for over six months and had grown bald from it for a while. Now that she was on the mend and her hair was at a decent length she no longer needed to wear her wig.

Despite Clark's assurances that she wouldn't have to contribute if she wasn't up to it. He was aware through their letters that she had been suffering an illness. He was quick to comfort her in his writings to her, as she grew healthier over time, if she still faired ill she would not be asked to work outside the house and kitchen. Easy chores, no hard work at all. Easy street if she wanted it. But Betty-Sue wasn't a shirker yet she didn't want to be married again. One marriage had been more then enough for her lifetime. She wasn't like those other women that itched to get their claws into another man after their first ones pass on.

Farm work could prematurely age a person. She had watched her mother grow old and dwindle away with loneliness while living on a farm. Until her deceased husband Harry had come along and swept her off her feet and took her mother in and took care of them both, splendidly.

She was still young enough and fair of face that she would like to keep her youth for as long as possible.

Her mind was clear and now firmly made up.

She didn't want to live that life. A farmer's wife's life just wasn't for her. Yet how to get out of it?

She'd already agreed to it, accepted their ticket and had been traveling for weeks to reach Smallville, Kansas. She couldn't just back out now and renege on her honorable promise. Women had very little in life, honor and integrity was all that was allowed to them to have. Women were an asset and barely considered more then children or more then chattel by most men. She had been lucky with Harry and lucky again with Clark, but it was not the right time for her. She didn't want to be married again.

Clark was willing to forgo husband rights on her material goods and wealth. He wanted her to be happy. He would bow to her wishes where her money was concerned. If she wished to help with the payments on the farm he'd be happy to have her monetary help but he would appreciate it more if it was her two hands beside his own and hard work that paid for the farm rather then a widows wealth. He didn't want her money. He wanted a companion and children some day.

Clark was a gallant dreamer and a precious man, a good man; and if Betty-Sue had been looking for a husband so soon after her own had passed on, instead of having family making arrangements and pressuring her in her time of illness, she would have snatched him up in a heart beat. But she wanted to be free and go where the wind took her. She didn't want to root her feet into the earth just yet.

She'd married too young and now that she was a widow and able to do things on her own she wanted to explore that independence a little more and a little longer. Clark was a good man, a really good man. She couldn't just run off on him, yet she didn't have the courage to tell him to his face that she couldn't marry him. That would break his heart. He'd already suffered through one painful heartbreak she couldn't do that to him, and yet... she just couldn't see herself wed just yet, not for a second time, not yet.

Pensively she stared out at the train platform. Into the shadows she stared and saw something coming fast, a man in black. He was pale like a ghost and blended well into the steam and dark areas of the train platform. However fascinating those features were, the most fascinating though was that this man could very well be her own reflection in the mirror, he was her exact look alike.

"Lord be praised!" She gasped. "A miracle."

As cocky as he pretended to be, Lex was not a stupid man and he did not like to take chances, despite his gambling ways.

He felt somewhat relieved to be on board the train. He was shimmying quickly through the tiny cramped halls of first class when he caught sight of his tickets and read them, he groaned as he realized they read coach. He'd been cheated!

"F*k me!" he hissed.

Then a God send. A miracle happened. A woman bumped into him knocking him to the floor.

"Oh dear me!" she cried in a very pretty southern accent which appeared to inflect true shock and remorse. "I did not see you there."

She scrambled for some glasses that were hanging off of a silver chain around her neck.

"I am so sorry. Are you hurt?"

She was a young woman curvy, busty, and classically pretty. She was also disturbingly familiar looking to him. An inkling of an idea came to him. If her hair had been an outrageous red color she could have easily been mistaken for a Luthor, or rather, Lex's own personal twin, if he'd still had hair.

She was a doppelganger turned wrong, or maybe a yin to his yang or something. His mind was working so fast it was a wonder his instincts could process any of it. Lex was not a religious man, nor had he many reasons to be so. But at that moment an idea blazed across his mind so fast and so intense that it could be no less then an angel's words whispered to his brain.

It was like fate or destiny was yanking him by the arm, leading him on to a new path. This was what he'd been looking for a way to investigate the Luthors without being noticed. This was the path that could very well lead to the uncovering of his father's fiendish plans and possibly even lead to a new hope for Lex himself, to be able to remold himself into another image different from the evil Luthor image. This was opportunity knocking and Lex was going to open that door and embrace what it had to offer him.

Luthors were well known in Smallville by sight and in most of Kansas as well. If Lex wanted his mission to succeed he would need a disguise. This was perfect. No one would suspect a Luthor of dressing up like a woman and cavorting about like one. Lionel would never stand for it. He'd be livid if he ever found out. He would love to see his father's outrage. The family would never live down the humiliation, the dishonor and scandal of it, which was more then enough incentive for Lex to go ahead and do it.

His customary smirk resurfaced. It really was too perfect.

"Not at all, my dear Lady." He replied as gentlemanly as possible with just the right amount of charm, the rogue in his nature coming to the surface.

On his last visit to his father's mother land of Ayre, dear old Ireland, where he and Bruce separated to go on their own journeys Lex had been fortunate to visit and even kiss the blarney stone. It was said that kissing the stone guaranteed to infuse a man with charm and enough blarney to last him through a lifetime of good and ill luck. He didn't know if it was true but it seemed to be so. Since he'd had very good luck until recently and so far luck, the finicky bitch, was working her hand yet again. But Blarney was particularly good when it came to charming young gullible women.

Her jaw dropped for a moment then she blushed. Her hand took his own in a firm grip and she hoisted him up. She was a strong little thing. Farming stock or something. She blushed furiously and nervously brushed her clothes down with her hands smoothing away imaginary rumples.

From her clothes he could tell she had money. Possibly married into it? It was very likely too, that she may be had a private first class cabin. She also seemed very nervous. Lex could feel the tides of luck changing. He grinned all the more for it.

"Is there anything I can do..." her words trailed off. She was uncomfortable with the situation and not sure what to do to make amends.

"In-attentiveness is forgivable my lady." Said Lex. "Nothing but my pride was hurt. Perhaps, some tea?" he asked airily.

"Well." She paused in thought. He looked like a gambler. Perhaps money or a bet would make him switch places with her. In truth Betty-Sue was playing her own version of the same game as Lex. She had her own plans and she wanted him to be apart of them. It was a crazy plan and quite possibly the guy wouldn't agree to it all but something about the young man told her he was in a bit of a jam and was perhaps even as desperate as herself. So in all likelihood perhaps he would go along with her plans if she gave him an incentive.

She seemed an earnest woman and honest. Lex could tell these things right off from the directness of her gaze, the care in the choice of her words.

"I'm engaged, I don't think it would be very appropriate, and yet, I did bump into you. My fianc and I have not formally met yet. Oh dear, I don't know what the social thing is to do in this situation. What do manners dictate?" she asked playing the nave and helpless card many men loved in a woman. Suckers.

Lex grinned. She was perfect and she trusted too easily. Sucker.

Time was running out, he had to make his move quickly.

"Allow me, my lady," He said ever so charming. "As I am quite schooled in the social behaviors, I can say with all honesty that a bit of tea with me to sooth away the sting from my pride is the right thing to do." A graceful yet quick brush of his lips over her hand in his, murmuring. "By the way, my name is Alexander, but you may call me Lex."

"Oh dear," she murmured quite awed by his gentlemanly manner. "I, uh, I am uh, Betty-Sue from Tennessee." She stuttered.

"It's good to make your acquaintance, Miss Betty-Sue." Lex replied with a very sweet smile out of his arsenal of "trust me, I'm harmless" expressions, that by now many of his business associates didn't trust at all.

While he'd been still too young to use it properly and he used it all of the time, the effectiveness of this particular expression lost it's usefulness. Like any expression used too often to advantage it lost it's power. It proved quite a lesson for him and yet he could use it on people like Betty who didn't know him well to great advantage.

He easily guided her into the dining cart asking her to tell him a little bit about herself and why it was that she found herself traveling to meet a husband.

Lex wrongly thought that Betty-Sue was of the sheltered nave variety. Lex should have learned by now that with all of his bad luck with women, he can't read them at all. He also came up with the wrong impression that she had never been to a social event outside of the church in her life, nor had the experience of society in the cities as a lady of upstanding and social birth in the ton, and as such she was unable to discern the lack of innocence in Lex. He believed his true identity was safe as well as his anonymity.

The truth, though, was a far different matter.

Betty-Sue was very much aware that Lex wasn't telling her the whole truth and she recognized him as someone of some important family or other, but Betty-Sue had never been very good at recalling names, just faces and she had only seen Lex once and that had been while Lex had still been a child. Who could forget such a strange wraith like child frightened out of his mind? Though well mannered and as proper as any child of upstanding birth he'd been surprisingly cut off from the other youths and was entranced by the baby in his arms. It appeared as if he was taking care of both his mother and his baby brother and he didn't trust either one to the care of the nurse. His father had been totally oblivious to his son's strange behavior.

Betty-Sue remembered how it seemed so odd and unsettling. The child had been such a gentle caring child and delicate of face, pale and bald but under all of that had also been strength, a will that could not be bent. He would care for his mother he would care for his baby brother, he didn't care if the other children wanted to get to know him or not. He was perfectly occupied with the care of the two people he loved most in the world. Betty had felt inspired by the child.

She had thought this was a child meant for greatness and yet now look at him, he was in desperate straights, maybe this was a second chance for him as it was for her? She hoped so.

She kept up the act of a woman charmed by his questions, and of a woman awed that he had taken an interest in her. Making him believe that few men had ever taken an interest in her before. She pretended to be almost overwhelmed by his attentions in her.

She told him about her travels with her first husband and then his death in the missions over seas in the east. She was slowly easing her way weaving her web and gently guiding Lex around to her plans.

She explained that sometimes her husband would take her with him to these places but most of the time he would leave her behind afraid for her life. Her husband had lived an adventurous life and had given her many happy years apart and together. They had been wed from the time she was thirteen to the day of his death on her twentieth birthday, some three years ago, as of last month.

Lex gave the appropriate responses and patted her hand with some true sympathy. He then ordered some tea for the both of them. Directing the conversation to current events, like her up and coming nuptials. Which, Betty-Sue couldn't have been more delighted to go along with this turn of conversation. It gave her the opportunity, finally, to broach the topic of which she had purposely bumped into him from the beginning to discuss with him about.

Lex craftily and carefully took out his sleeping aide from the hidden inside pocket of his jacket. He then doctored her cup and poured her some tea. Desperate times meant for desperate measures, as the saying went. He thought.

After a few minutes she was blinking hard and trying to stay awake.

"He's such a sweet man. His mother knew my family, back in the day, herself a child at the time." Yawn. "I am very lucky to have this chance." Yawn again. "Oh pardon me, I don't know what has come over me...I'm suddenly very... tired."

She yawned yet again and blinked hard trying to fight against her drowsiness.

"Clark's letters..." yawn. "His picture... I have...it." Yawn. She lost her battle with the on set of creeping sleep

"Dear me." She murmured. Nearly falling out of her chair as she succumbed to the sleeping aid in her tea. She never got the chance to propose her scheme or give Lex any incentives to dress as her and act like her for the Kents, to take her place and break young Clark's heart for her.

Lex was careful to help her to her private room. He laid her down on the bed then he quickly packed her a kit of two dresses and girl things after rifling through her chest and bags. He then took the last two hundred dollars from his wallet and put the bills down her dress. It was inappropriate of him but time was running out. His plans hatched out of desperation were finally culminating, coming together in a perfect twist of fate.

He spotted the golden wig, glad for once that he had survived that meteor shower all those years ago in Kansas. A miracle in his minister's opinion, but not in Lex's, leaving him baldheaded and pale white skinned, looking very freakish. Lex knew he would be able to pass a cursory inspection as a female, since he'd had other unfortunate opportunities in the past to try this particular ploy before, especially in Japan.

His friend Bruce Wayne had been accompanying him at the time. They had just finished a visit to the Andes when his fellow billionaire, and old school chum, suggested they go to the Orient and do some cultural studies.

There they had been visiting a little province in Tokyo during the Maiji period when events spiraled out of control and he was forced to disguise himself as an actress, also known as a geisha, though since he was a man dressing as a woman he was kabuki.

Bruce Wayne being naturally dark and athletic hadn't needed to disguise himself. Lex had envied Bruce at the time.

They had to flee for their lives from a patrol of soldiers who moments later burst through the parlor doors, searching the houses for "Gai-Jin"/ "white-devils" to kill in their newest bout of blood shed and civil unrest.

Lex had been wearing nothing more then the kimono of a Kabuki dancer along with the dancer's elaborate headdress. Bruce had said he looked marvelous, even elegant. Not that Lex had believed him at the time, nor had they been compliments he was particularly very comfortable with at the time.

Bruce at his side escorting him to the docks where they met up with fellow escapees and boarded secretly on ships headed to England and the Americas. Bruce had gone way of England and Lex had parted company with him a few weeks later in Scotland.

It had been a nightmare, fleeing through that country and to the pier escaping the darkness surviving only because of debts repaid and Bruce Wayne the adept linguist that he was, saved their bacons more then a few times with his knowledge of the language, whereas Lex had not had the opportunity to learn very much of it in their week or so of time there.

The memories were painful ones. He'd lost a few good comrades to that incident. He took a moment to mourn those poor lost women and youths who had died in the struggle for life.

He blinked the past memories out of his current thoughts and set to his tasks.

Quickly Lex undressed and was redressed into one of the Girl's plain grey gowns. He put on the golden wig and big brimmed hat with dandelions all over it. He then carefully picked her up making sure she leaned on him, then he led her off the train and on to the 520 Train heading Missouri way. Once he had her settled in economy class he then shuffled quickly back onto the 525 Train, just in the nick of time as the Missouri bound train went into motion and left the yard.

The assassins were determined to find Luthor and so far the search of the 520 train had gotten them nothing, just an upset steward who threw them off the train after they had drawn too much attention to themselves by tipping men's hats off their heads and picking fights with a few of the bald fellows that were obviously not Luthor.

This was the last train the 525 and they only had a matter of minutes to search for Luthor in it. It wasn't going to be enough time. Their mission was going to be a failure. They climbed on board the same train as the strange female they'd been following unnoticed from the 520.

Lex felt a terrifying moment his sweat turned cold as they looked right at him then they looked through him and their eyes searched the train car, they didn't notice him as a flat-chest woman, Lex breathed relief. Lex's chest loosened and he could breathe easier as the two men cursed then turned their backs on Lex and left the train. The danger was gone for now but Lex wasn't a fool and he knew it wasn't over yet.

Betty-Sue awakened some hours later on the Missouri bound train. She felt rested but disoriented. Where was she? How had she gotten from the tea carriage to the economy class seats on the train? And where was the young gambler she'd been conversing with earlier?

She checked her body and possessions to see what if anything had been taken from her. She frowned at the lack of her luggage. She was left with a single bag of clothes and girl things and she did have some money, which had mysteriously turned up in her chemise. Thankfully untouched in the bottom of her bag in the secret compartment was her bankbook and bank notes. She was not penniless by any means and she could always buy more dresses later. Thank goodness.

"Um excuse me sir," she asked as she turned to her seatmate, "Do you happen to know where this train is bound?"

"Oh, you're awake." Exclaimed the rather bookish man next to her. "Good, good, I was getting a little worried there, for a moment. Your twin sister did say that your medicine would be wearing off shortly but medicine is so unpredictable I thought I might have to call a doctor for you soon, to make sure you were not dead. Though she explained to me how terrified you are of trains, that you get, motion sick, is that what they call it? She explained to me that you take this tea to help you deal with it but still I was worried. I thought what a tragedy that such a beauty as yourself would parish so young and in such a way. Good to see that you are doing well and are now awake." He babbled, good-natured.

Obviously the guy was a bit of a nervous person or just an airhead either way he seemed nice enough.

"Thank you for your concern sir, but again, can I ask, where is this train bound?"

"Missouri." He replied blinking. "Didn't you know? I thought your sister... oh that's right, your sister told me that you would be a little disoriented on your waking. She didn't get the chance to tell me more so I could be helpful to you my dear. She seemed nice enough if in a bit of a hurry. Which if you ask me seems rather odd and oh by the way why isn't she traveling with you?"

Betty-Sue frowned. That sneaky devil, he bamboozled me. I guess we were more a like in both mind and body then I thought. I suppose someone that tricky will do well in his charade. She just hoped he would let down young Kent delicately.

"Uh, well sis and I, unfortunately we have different suitors and weren't able to go to each other's weddings. Half the family will go to my wedding and the other half of the family will go to hers. Twins, not easy on any family, I'm afraid. Our last chance for nuptials I'm afraid. Still what can one do?" she explained with a graceful shrug of her shoulders.

The man tilted his head in thought. Then nodded. "Yes I suppose so." He said in aplomb.

The two continued to get acquainted and soon Betty-Sue was in Missouri then train bound back to New York where she would board one of the great ocean liners of their time and then on her way to the orient.

CHAPTER TWO

Lex cursed under his breath, nearly killing himself tripping over his skirts, the heels of his shoes "clippety-clicking" furiously down the train halls. The train began to move jolting Lex nearly sending him toppling over to the hard metal floor, however Lex's reflexes were like those of a cat, he righted himself back in balance within an eye blink as the train very quickly picked up speed.

The conductor cried out "Tickets! I need to see your Tickets!"

This was directed at everyone. The conductor came to a halt in front of Lex and tipped his cap politely at him. Lex's disguise was working remarkably well. Lex showed the man his ticket. The Conductor had a gentle twinkle in his kindly old eyes.

"Thank yee, Miss." He said, then passed him by, crying out again. "Tickets!"

Lex smiled he felt it was really going to work. He tricked his assassins and now the steward as well. Things looked good. Now all he had to do was fool the family Betty-Sue was going to get married into and break the young guy's heart then spy on dear old dad and the rest of the family and get down to the bottom of the conspiracy against him.

"Inspection!"

"Tickets!"

The assassins tried to fool the conductor but the old man had been doing this job for many years and he was aware of all manner of tricks. "No ticket, no train-ride. You'll have to get off at the next stop; it's in two hours and just outside of town. Come with me fellows." He escorted them in a no nonsense manner to the back of the train and to the departure area with the rest of the other stowaways ferreted out during the ticket call. There were only a handful of them. The steward gave them all a sniff of distain then went back to his duties after leaving them safely under guard.

Quickly Lex ducked back into his new cabin. Once inside he undressed once more and rigged a padded corset, then redressed himself in his disguise.

Shuffling through one of the vanity drawers he found the mother load, the letters that would guarantee his success in his portrayal of the real Betty-Sue.

Carefully Lex slipped the ribbon from around a packed bunch of letters. He carefully read each letter. He had several days' worth of travel and he would do well to read each of the letters carefully making himself very acquainted with the young man of whom Betty-Sue spoke so fondly of. Information was the key to any good success.

He sat daintily in her over padded chair by the vanity and began to read. The first letter was dated over a year ago. It was as he was reading the address that another plan began to form in the back of his mind. The address was eerily familiar to him. He knew it was very near the Luthor Manner. Reading the family name, Lex felt his jaw drop a little then a smirk came to his lips. This was too perfect.

It was the Kents.

Lex couldn't keep the laughter at bay. This was the only family that ever dared subvert Lionel's control on their community and town. They stood in Lionel's way and led the other families to stand up against Lionel as well. The Kents practically ruled Smallville. Which of course had Lionel pretty furious most of the time. If the Kents said something or stood up against someone the rest of Smallville followed, even the Mayor. Not even Lionel's money could buy that kind of respect or following.

Lex decided breaking up with Clark Kent was not going to be in the plans after all. At first he thought he would break up with the young gentlemen Betty-Sue had fondly spoken of, then get a room in town and do his spying there from town. But now that he knew it was the Kents and with the Kent farm bordering his family's estates he knew he was being presented with a unique and wonderful opportunity. He could spy on Lionel more closely and more anonymously then if he'd been a strange girl asking questions and poking her nose where it didn't belong. As a Kent he would be given more opportunities and more trust then he could have dreamed. No one would care if a Kent asked questions about a Luthor, since Kents were above reproach and were so very respected.

The Kent farm was the perfect place to do his surveillance if he wasn't first found out by the Kents and his charade blown or his spying found out and put a stop to first by the Kents. However as for the rest of the town, well, Kents had been asking questions and casting suspicions on Luthors since Hiram Kent settled into town replacing Lucien Luthor and became the right hand to Ezra Small the founder of Smallville. No one liked Luthors but everyone loved Kents.

Still Luthors had money and power and Metropolis had called to their family and Lucien created an empire in the business world and Lionel followed him spreading that empire further out into the world. Lionel owned many places in the states and across the globe. Luthor Manner was just one of a dozen different homes the Luthors lived in four to six moths out of the year. Going back to Smallville wasn't a guarantee that Lex would be able to successfully spy on his father but his father liked sticking to his personal calendar and he never varied it. This was the time of year Lionel liked to stay in Smallville and away from the rapidly growing city of Metropolis. Lionel liked the clean air and the less crowded feeling he had here.

Turning from his plotting and memories Lex read the letter clutched tightly in his hands.

"Dear Ms Betty-Sue,

"Mama has told me much about you and she has a very high regard for you and your family. Mama informs me that you have agreed to communicate with me through your letters. She has high hopes for us. But I have to be honest with you Miss... I love another.

"I am honored by your graciousness and your consent to trade letters and for us to get to know each other through this form of speaking. I cannot promise witty writing or pretty words, I am a farmer's son and though I am a doomed dreamer I have no talent for the writing arts when it comes to flowery wording.

"I want to be a man who owns a paper some day. My friend Chloe and I will run a paper for Smallville, some day. But for now I am a Farmer like my father and his father before him. I hope we can find ground to be friends on.

"Kindest regards,

"Your hopeful friend,

"Clark Kent."

Lex sighed and carefully refolded the first letter and put it back into the hope chest. He took out the second letter but then looked at his pocket watch and noting the time slipped off to the dining cart for a quick late dinner.

The service was kind, the food not too bad.

He moped and brooded letting his tea grow cold as he gazed mournfully out the window in the fast moving train. He felt guilty about hijacking the woman out of her spare clothes, ticket, first class cabin, and her anonymity.

She had been a kindly woman and he knew exactly how hard it was for a good woman to find herself a good man.

Men didn't know how to treat women. Women were property, his father's own words, of which Lex disagreed. He'd seen how miserable and how mistreated his own Mother had been at Lionel's hands.

He found growing up over the years that this was not just the way it was in his own home but all over the country, all over the world even. He just had to believe that Betty-Sue would find someone just as good as this Clark Kent, somewhere else, and if not, well two hundred dollars can last a long time if spent shrewdly.

Betty-Sue would be fine. She would find another man. He told himself determined not to think of the bad possibility that he could be wrong and that he may have just doomed some sweet girl to a life of hell.

He returned to the first class closet sized room then sat once more at the temporary vanity and read the second letter then the third letter, pondering again at his plans and fighting off the conscience that wouldn't die within him.

Lex looked over the tin photo he found in the fourth envelope of the boy he would soon be married to in the place of Betty-Sue.

Lex didn't usually go for men. He liked women. He adored their curves and the softness of their bodies, the sweet scents of their perfumes. Each one a flower he had enjoyed the plucking of.

As a Luthor he was very much expected to eventually settle down, be wedded, have a child and groom an heir to take over the Luthor Corporation and Banks, like his father had done to him. It was Luthor Dogma. Therefore Lex was unprepared for this new serge of emotions that swept through him.

Clark was angelic.

Sinful.

Beautiful.

Like Betty-Sue, Clark was honest. It was there in the nervous wide-eyed gaze caught forever in the photo. Clark had a stubborn jaw, dark curly hair and a generous mouth. Lex felt his heart actually give a painful squeeze in his chest. He gathered his new nightclothes and readied himself for bed.

His mind would not be quiet. He turned and tossed and tried to get comfortable. The bed was solid and a little too soft for his tastes but adequate enough. He should have dropped off to sleep but he couldn't sleep. With his sleeping aide depleted he didn't have a key to unlock the entrance into slumber land.

His thoughts were alarmingly deep and very disquieting.

He argued that he was being silly that this new feeling in his chest couldn't be what it felt like, that the butterflies in his stomach were nerves of a different sort.

It wasn't possible to fall in love, not like this, not this quickly and not from a photo or through a couple of poorly written letters.

It wasn't possible to fall in love like this.

It was impossible. This was real life not a dime store trash novel.

"The important thing is that you believe that Lex." Whispered the cold voice in the back of his mind. It was a voice he always tried to ignore.

The struggle went on and he did not sleep. Instead he lit a candle and gathered the stack of letters up out of the nightstand and opened them to further read and to get to know the Kents. For simple farmers they managed to be intriguing, their letters managing to touch his heart, which was not a simple matter at all. Not after living through two ex-wives murderous attempts on his life.

As the hours sped by and he read the letters he quickly understood just how precious a gift he had robbed Betty-Sue of. In his letters Clark often spoke of his dreams and hopes. Many of which revolved around Lana Lang and a Press. Lex judged him to be a rare treasure.

Clark was a kind and gentle idealists. A young dreamer who wanted more for his life then just the farm his parents had given him. Clark not only wanted to be a journalist but also be the founder of the town's first Newspaper. He and his friend Chloe wanted to name it the Smallville Torch.

Lex chuckled. He could almost see it. He sat and dreamed out the window for a few minutes. A curve of lips in an unusually soft "Mona Lisa" like smile on his face.

Lex never daydreamed, he plotted and he did math in his head, but he never daydreamed. Clark's letters made him daydream. They made him almost yearn for Clark's way of life.

Lex was also dismayed and delighted in turns by the youthful enthusiasm he read within the letters. He wasn't very happy that Clark had a drive towards journalism. He winced sympathetically for Clark, for the lad was too honest and journalism was a cutthroat business that made money by selling lies.

Lex doubted Clark would get very far in his chosen career. Though in his heart he wished Clark luck in all of his endeavors.

From what nasty things he'd heard his father say over the years of the Kents and of most farmers Lex never expected this of Clark. He was amazingly ambitious. He never expected to find this kind of revelation. It was written very clearly and very honestly in each letter, every dream and what Clark was doing to see it succeed. Lionel would have laughed himself silly and sneered at the boy's dreams as he had his own sons' dreams. Lionel would have done all he could in his power to destroy those kinds of ambitions, yet Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent believed in their son and were helping him to achieve his dreams even though they wanted him to maintain the farm and get married and give them grandchildren.

From Clark's writing, Lex knew the youngster was an amazingly special man a truly honorable man, a man of rare quality. A man Lex wanted to meet with a yearning that grew stronger every day.

Lex rubbed a trembling hand over his heart and reached for the next letter. His journey on the train was coming close to an end and he still had several letters to get through before he could reach Smallville fully prepared for the charade of his life.

Many believed that riding on a train was full of excitement and danger. That being a passenger exposed one to the less attractive elements of life; like ruffians, train robbers and buffalo hunters.

The ride on the train was not a new experience for Lex and he knew he would be bored. It was a rare occasion when a hold-up occurred on a train. Very few outlaws ever had the guts to try such a dangerous stunt. Moving Train, average poor passengers, the equation for success and riches was not a respectable one, sure there were idiots out there who took the chances, but the good ones, the smart ones, the outlaw worth his bounty was not stupid enough to risk their or their horses' life for little or no profit at all.

The few cowboys on board startled him with their charm and manly interest in the woman they perceived him to be. They gave him a chance to practice his disguise and get used to flirting with people of his own gender, so he would know what to do and not do with Clark. They also taught him a few other things from a female's perspective; of which he was somewhat grateful for; yet, it was also very disturbing to him.

Disturbing at how fast he was learning and how easily he found himself imitating the fairer sex. Disconcerting at first, but over the passing days he soon grew uncomfortably comfortable with it all.

In fact he'd split himself into two different people.

One being or personality was Lex and the other was Betty-Sue. In a way it was also the ability Lionel had created in Lex for self-preservation and survival. It was a strange mechanism and a rare talent, which Lex now engaged in.

It was not a psychotic break but the ability an actor has in their role-playing methods of becoming the person they were portraying, or so he told himself.

He read his letters in quiet at breakfast and lunch and teatime and at dinner too.

"Dearest Betty-Sue,

"It was so good to hear from you. Unfortunately my heart is breaking. I wish I could tell you I am well but I am not. Lana has run off with Whitney, as we feared she would.

"What chances there were, what hopes I had with your helpful advice at hand to guide me in catching her eye, is now all gone. They're wed. I have to accept this and go on with my life but it is so hard. I love her.

"I hope this letter finds you in good health.

"Your friend,

"Sincerely,

"Clark"

Lex had to fight back a feeling of pain for his suitor. The other Betty-Sue had a knack for saying the right things and easing Clark's feelings. Lex hoped he would be able to help Clark in the same way otherwise he was bound to give the performance away. He should just find a way to let the kid down easy. Not go through with this charade at all. The letters and his own sense of guilt wouldn't let him.

One particular gentleman was quite the card player and he was very enchanted by bookish Betty-Sue. They had engaged in many a game of friendly cards over the last few nights. Betty-Sue blushed fetchingly. Flustered and charmed. Inside Lex was disgusted with his alter ego. Couldn't she see the man was a rake? Betty's girlish charms were rusty but working well for her.

Dylan lifted his hat in a friendly show of respect then set it back on his head in a rakish tilt. "Hello there, Miss Betty-Sue. I couldn't help noticing your lovely radiance this morning."

Cringing yet again, Lex had a few more derisive things to add to his overall list of things he found annoying about Dylan "The Rake" and "Idiotic Gambler". This guy didn't know a decent pick up line to save his soul!

"Oh sir, really." Betty murmured. Her eyelashes fluttered in fake embarrassment.

"Why I do declare, you get lovelier and lovelier every time these old eyes see you." He continued charmingly with his southern drawl.

This grated on Lex's nerves even more. The game had been fun but now it was just plain old. The man was charming and he was sniffing around the wrong skirt. At first Lex had gone along with the whole flirting thing after all it had given Betty an opportunity to try her feminine whiles and with terrifying success. But now it was simply getting quite annoying.

"Another letter this morning?" Dylan inquired, snatching a biscuit off of Lex's morning plate, as if they were intimates.

Lex sighed coming back to the surface and overriding Betty's personality with his own.

"Dylan, I am flattered by your interests in me, however I am engaged to and am loyal to my Clark, and I have no interest in anybody else." Lex was stern and to the point.

Dylan frowned for a moment then sighed. "I know. I just... Well Betty-Sue, he's a lucky son of a gun to have lassoed himself a fine girl like your self. I envy him your affections. I'm sorry that I seem to have put you off your temper."

Lex stroked the letter carefully in his hand. Allowing Betty to come to the surface and taking over her role again. "Thank you Dylan." She replied gently. "I do apologize for my peevishness this morning. I'm nervous, and soon I will be arriving in Smallville and then to the Alter to marry a man I love very much. His letters comfort me." She said. Betty was genteel and graceful but stern in her discouragement of Dylan's pursuance. "Your friendship has been very nice but I must discourage you from pursuing me any further." For Betty it was true, for Lex it was a lie he uttered with distaste. He yearned to crush the cowboy cruelly. But Betty wouldn't have it. He sighed and went back under.

"I understand Betty-Sue. Have a good life with your farm boy."

"And to you to, Dylan, good luck on the River Boat circuit." She replied daintily sipping from her cooling cup of sweetened Darjeeling tea.

Dylan smiled. Betty-Sue was such a lady and who knew there was ice under that warmth. Dylan's last glimpse of Betty-Sue was of her head tucked back down in reading mode, reading glasses delicate and tiny balancing perfectly on her nose. She was lovely. He would miss her intelligent manner and knowledge of poker. He had learned a lot from her in the last few days. That Clark Kent was one lucky son of a gun to be getting himself that little lady.

Lex returned to his letter reading.

This time this particular letter was of comforting advice from Lex's soon to be Father-In-Law, Jonathan Kent. He could almost hear Mr. Kent asking his wife, this is how it's done right? I address her like this right?

- Good Daughter,

The house we have built for you and Clark is quite modern. Our farm is prosperous and quite modern as well. Do not fear the wild life for there is little of it that is of the dangerous kind.

The Indians have long left this area due to many different events and reasons and so from them you have nothing to fear.

As for the land feuds and bloodshed, you asked about in our previous letters to each other, well, to speak honestly, the only trouble we have is from the Luthors.

They make no secret of the fact that they want our lands for their own evil purposes. I have the unfortunate luck of being the neighbor to the Luthor Castle Estates and Ranch. They raise fine horses and a bunch of cattle. But a more scrupulous lot you will never meet! They're devil's own.

(Lex was slightly affronted by this, while Betty merely agreed and worried daintily at her lower lip.)

Old Lionel wants my land but as to a full-scale war between us, he's actually been quite a gentleman and has yet to resort to foul deeds. My barbed wire keeps his cows out of my lands and my few cows out of his. We have an uneasy truce but it is something and you need not fear any blood letting from that corner or from ours neither. If he leaves us alone we will leave him alone and I think he understands that very clearly.

We are a peaceful community and I think you will love it here. My wife and my son speak very highly of you. You are very courageous to come all of this way to marry my good son.

Thank you,
Your Father to be,
Jonathan Kent.

This letter sent his memory rolling.

~ Flash Back ~

Indians were the least of Lex's fears. He had lived among one nation and seen how their ways were and he had found it to be paradise compared to his own existence. Among the tribe he hadn't had to fear conspiracy or betrayal or falsehoods aimed to test his mind or loyalty. He'd been freed of every care in the world except for the care of living and that had been wonderful to him.

He'd been exploring the wild Canadian territories and nearly froze to death. He'd been slipping deep into unnatural sleep.

Having terrible nightmares, dreaming he was back in Belle Reve. In that hell pit he'd always been cold and wet. There was no love or compassion in the nurses. His father's money bought him little reprieve from the mistreatment that went on in that place. He'd starved there. For all of his time there he'd lived in perpetual terror.

He'd been beaten on many occasions in Belle Reve. Watched as some of the prettier girls were raped or thrown out into the streets the minute their families stopped paying for their upkeep. He'd watched boys being beaten to death and abused in similar fashion as the girls. Every one of them had been starved or mistreated. There was never any heat, and never enough blankets to keep warm by. There was never enough food for everyone.

The place was a lock up for the damned. There was only cruelty there. No cure for the insane or disabled. Patients died or disappeared every day in that place. Experiments of the horrendous nature went on in that place too. If your family couldn't pay you had to earn your keep somehow. It was a mad house. It was bedlam.

Lex had thought he was going to die there in Belle Reve. Forsaken and lost, but his Father had come for him then, not long after hope had begun to fade.

A small caravan of natives had stumbled across him and took him in, adopting him into the tribe. At first he had been made to stay with the women and children, which he had been fine with. He'd felt very at home helping the children having raised Julian on his own as a child himself.

He had surprised them with his abilities at child rearing; they had not expected it of him. Little by little he earned their trust then their invitation to hunt with their men. He worked by their side hunting and foraging for what little bit of meat they could scrounge up in the winter. Becoming a man through deed and ceremony had been the most thrilling aspect of his time with them and the most amazing experience in his whole entire life. He even earned a new name, Winter Fox's Brother.

The shaman had looked into his eyes on his naming day seeing the winter had forged this child into man and his experiences of a devious kind he had smiled at Lex and proclaimed him "Winter Fox's Brother, in your life will come much strife and much joy, your journey will lead you on a path of the unexpected and finally to a home of your own.

Like the Fox cousin to the wolf you are wise but devious and like the fox raised in Winter foraging in the barren snows, you seem frail and vulnerable your life seems easily spent, but instead of death you live on, strong and graceful and full of life, your name on this day the day of your manhood and triumph in the face of many dangers, we welcome you Winter Fox's Brother and we let you go with love in our hearts for you, for your stay here is nearly at an end and I can see your path taking you elsewhere very soon."

The tribe had let out cries of joy and the ceremony had been a very elaborate one with gifts and feasting and his time as the Shaman had said drew to a close in that strange place of magic and trials of survival.

End flash back

Later.

There was now only a couple of letters left. The train was moving along at a steady pace and by tomorrow he would be in Smallville and his destiny at hand.

"My Dearest Betty,

"Over these many months you have helped me so much. My heart is mending and my parents urge me to find happiness with someone. I fear they grow impatient with me. I do not wish to disappoint them. They wish me to marry and soon.

"They ask me to request your hand.

"Betty I know this is sudden, I wish I could be there to see your face and to speak these words directly to you and read your answer in the color of your eyes.

"I have found so much comfort in your letters. You warm me with your words and the person I see when I gaze into your photo or ponder another letter you have sent me.

"I have kept all of our correspondence.

"I promise you, Betty-Sue, I will continue to hold you in the highest regards and with greatest respect and honor, I... Care for you... I may even find myself growing to... love you. I will provide for you and see that you lack for nothing Betty, I hope you will please consider me, I hope you will accept my proposal. Please... will you consent to be my wife?

"Fondly, your loving friend,

"Clark"

Clark's letters were simple honest, straightforward letters that continued to touch his heart nurturing the growing feelings there in his breast. His heart squeeze tight and his hands trembled once more by the emotion Clark's letters evoked within him.

The latest letter came to his hand. This one was not written by Clark but by the enthusiastic and somewhat desperate Martha Kent.

" Dearest Daughter,

"Please accept my son's pledge and his proposal to you. We would be so happy to have you as a part of our family.

"Jonathan and I would gladly pay for your travel expense. Smallville is a wonderful community. We are all neighbors and brothers in the truest sense of the word.

"Jonathan tells me to assure you that the cattle barons and the farmers are not in the midst of a war here. In fact Smallville is extremely peaceful and there hasn't been a violent incident in many a generation. Even the Indians are of a kindly nature.

"There is so much in Smallville waiting here for you. Please consent to marry my son and become our daughter in name as well as by marriage.

"Your Loving Mother,

"Martha Kent"

Lex closed the last letter, a letter of warmth and subdued joy. Of course Betty-Sue had accepted which was why they had bumped into each other on the train that day and why Lex was here now.

Lex sighed again disconcerted, couldn't he have thought of something else to hide his uniqueness behind? Why did he have to bump into Betty-Sue from Tennessee, with face just like his except for the absent scar at the lip and female form? Was there no other way to spy on his father and to stay safe from the assassins?

Betty smiled, she was going to be a Mail-Order-Bride and she was overjoyed. She wouldn't let grumbling inner Lex ruin her happiness. She smiled and put the letter back in it's neatly packed stack, bundled in quaint violet ribbon, her and Lex's favorite color.

They had one day left to prepare and then they would be in Smallville and then from there they would have to play the performance of their lives. The charade would have to be played to the hilt. A role he wished he would never have to play but due to his circumstances he had no choice in the matter he had to escape his would-be murderers and get to the bottom of the plot against his life.

He didn't know how he was going to pull it off. Again he prayed for strength and resolve, and wondered how he'd gotten himself into this mess. This was going to be hell. He could feel it in his bones.

"All you have to do is watch and bear it. It's going to be me doing all of the work" Betty chided him.

"Falling in love?" Lex sneered.

Betty frowned. "I have as much right to love as you do, Lex." She said.

"Yes, well and just look at how well those turned out?" He hissed at her.

"If you had only listened to me, we wouldn't have been in those circumstances in the first place." She reprimanded.

Lex was silent. Betty smirked. She'd won the argument for now.

Meanwhile Lex worried. Bed sports were bound to come up eventually. He bit his lower lip and sucked it between his sharp pearly teeth. Married men expected helpmates, bed warmers, and baby bearers.

"Not all men." Said Betty pointedly.

These thoughts of sex made him quite sick. How was Lex going to keep from having sex and giving the charade away? How was he going to handle an insistent, amorous husband?

In fact, how was Lex going to run a household? Cook, clean, be a woman in all the ways that counted outside the bedroom?

Queasy, Lex turned to meditation to even out his breathing and calm his stomach. He rang the Bellhop requesting peppermint tea from them. A few minutes later a steaming pot of tea was deposited in his room. He drank slowly from the calming brew and continued to ponder.

From the letters he'd read he knew it would be expected of him to help out on the farm. . He'd never worked a day in his life on a farm before. He'd always had servants to do things for him on the ranch and in any Luthor owned house. Though he knew some forms of physical labor, after all he's gone climbing in Tibet, roughed it in the wilderness on many continents, survival was hard labor and he was good at it. But he'd never milked a cow, nor fed chickens, nor gathered up their eggs.

As for the cooking, well, his skills in a real kitchen didn't even pass for par. And cleaning, ironing, folding, sewing, and harvesting he was even less familiar with. He'd always just tossed things away when they became too ragtag for him to wear anymore, or he handed the clothes over to a servant to fix.

What was he going to do when Clark expected darning and ironing?

"I'm fucked!" He growled. "Was this really the best you could have done for me God?" he asked, panicking. "How am I going to succeed in this farce, me, Lex Luthor? I'm not sweet and I sure as hell am not nave or kind."

Betty wrapped him in her arms and tried to calm him. "We'll handle it. We've handled a household before." She insisted, quietly, bringing back deeply buried memories to the surface of their mind, remembering baby Julian and the Luthor household shortly after their beloved mother's death. "We've handled far worse before. We just need to take it one day at a time. Handle one situation at a time."

"They're going to know I'm a fraud!" He said whining. "Everything I've ever put my hand to has succeeded; gambling and gun-fighting, and business. I have never failed at anything in my life.

But then again Business is in my blood. It's been pounded into my brain. A Luthor is Business. How am I going to pull off this hoax? I know absolutely nothing about farming!" He cried frustrated.

God did not choose to answer him and Betty-Sue rocked him. Lex sighed, pulling his hand through expensive golden locks. He looked strange in the mirror. A man dressed as a woman; a man alone but for the voice and the female in his mind.

He looked like a mad creature rocking and muttering to himself. He had to stop this sickness. Yet he was caught up in the image again in the mirror. He wasn't Lex any more. He was Betty; he had to stay Betty if this was going to work.

Lex studied his image in the mirror and the wig as well. He looked amazingly female, and pretty too. Betty smiled from the mirror and stroked his face, wiping away the panic from his mind. Looking himself in the eye in the mirror and sticking another bobby pin in his wig to keep the hair and hat in place, Lex murmured. "Maybe I'm over thinking things a bit. I mean, hello, I'm pretty but not exactly gorgeous. And maybe Clark won't go for the strong jaw or the stubborn glint in my eyes?"

"Aye, and the lord willing will give me wings and fly me through the heavens as an arch angel!" he jeered flung himself down on his bed. "Of course Clark will want me, looking as how I do like his dear Betty-Sue." He hissed sarcastically.

His fit of temper left him after a little bit in which his mind then turned to other matters to ponder. Like the wig he'd found in the original Betty-Sue's possession.

The wig was a mystery to him. It was obviously made from real hair. Texture like this couldn't be faked, and it was very soft, it's color extremely beautiful, highlights of strawberry and corn silk interwoven throughout.

This was real hair.

How had a farm girl or whatever she was, get an expensive wig like this?

This would have cost her a good twenty or thirty dollars ... a year's worth or more of wages at the very least.

Unless she had worked for a hair salon, then the hair would have come easily to hand. Perhaps that was the how of it. As for the why of it, he couldn't with certainty surmise it. Why would she need a wig, it was a pure mystery to him. Maybe she'd been taken up ill for a while and lost her original locks?

Women were strange and illogical creatures. He doubted men were ever meant to understand them in the first place.

"You men just don't try hard enough." Commented Betty tartly.

Speculation on the girl was quickly squelched as his mind turned to other matters. Like the matter of those two assassins stuck at the train station, as well as the plot against his life.

It had been pure luck the first two times that other assaults barely disguised as accidents had occurred. This time his assailants had been impatient and again it was God and Lady Luck to which Lex owed his life. Lex believed in his heart that this was another one of his father's cruel games but it was also possible that this plot was actually coming from someone else inside of Luthor Corp.

One such person came to mind, though it seemed quite unlikely. His half brother, Lucas, was hardly smart enough or ambitious enough for such a coup.

Admiringly, Lex mused, "Finally little brother's showing some gumption, eh?"

But instinct told him it couldn't be so. When it came to reading people Lex was never, well, hardly ever, wrong. And Lucas was not the kind who resorted to such actions.

Little brother was the kind who liked pulling the trigger himself.

Lucas was also the kind that rather liked getting things handed to him rather then actually working for it. Which was why Lucas had yet to rise through the Luthor ranks. Dear old Dad would never leave the Corporation to his youngest son, a monthly allowance maybe, but never the company or the bank. Lucas was a greedy spendthrift. Luthor Corp would be bankrupted outside of a year if Lucas ever got to run the show.

So that left someone else pulling the strings - Lucas' wife maybe?

Elise was a shrewd woman, someone who could pull the strings behind the throne as it were. She'd be up to hiring assassins to get rid of him if need be, if she thought she could A) get away with it and B) Be sure that she and Lucas would benefit from the Will, by getting the riches.

So, it couldn't be her. Neither Lionel's nor Lex's WILL left either one of them Elise or Lucas as beneficiaries. They'd get an allowance each and nothing else, and Elise knew that. So, they would not benefit from Lex's death.

Lionel? Maybe.

Lex having inherited his Mother's Family's share of the business just recently would mean more money for Lionel, more power for his Father, if he died. However, Lex was Lionel's heir, the man would not be so foolish as to think himself immortal and without need for an heir. It was too late in the game for Lionel to get himself a new wife and a new child and raise the child in preparation for the day of ascendance to the throne of Luthor Corp.

No.

It had to be someone else.

Maybe some rival of the Luthors was responsible? It was a possibility.

But who could it be?

The Hardwicks?

No, maybe, but Hardwick's Daughter was coming out this season and there was a possibility of an engagement between she and Lex. A merger between the two families could also mean a good thing for their businesses. Lex didn't think the Hardwicks would turn their back on a possible profitable arrangement. With options for the possibility of a later betrayal, the timing would be wrong for Lex's premature demise. That would be a terrible business move on Hardwick's part.

They would not benefit from his death just yet.

Perhaps, an ambitious associate of Father's?

The possibilities were endless.

They were also very disturbing to him. A long line of Luthors had made a great deal of enemies over the generations, himself included, they had many, many, enemies. All of them were capable of this kind of treachery.

It was truly a sad state of affairs when a man had more enemies than friends and sadder still that that man was so young.

tbc
svBride2