Title: Dalla Luce Della Luna (By the Light of the Moon) Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com) Pairing: Clark/Chloe, Clark/Lana, Clark/Lex Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Schmoop
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 6000
Archive: Fine, just let me know
Summary: Falling in love with your fiancee's stepbrother could be considered a problem. Then again, it might just be what you were waiting for all your life.

Clark wasn't sure that Mangia's was the right place for what he was about to do, but it was the kind of romantic gesture Lana seemed to appreciate. Fingering the small box in his jacket pocket, he watched as the waiter cleared away the remains of their meal, and nodded at the suggestion of an espresso and tiramisu for dessert. Lana declined with a sweet smile, teasing that she'd steal a taste of his. Now that they were alone, or at least as alone as any couple could be in a popular Italian restaurant, Clark knew it was time.

"Lana, I have something I want to ask you, something very important to both of us."

Lana's eyes sparkled and she ducked her head coyly. "What is it, Clark?"

Reaching across the table for Lana's dainty hand, Clark whispered, "Will you marry me?"

Looking away, Lana sniffed delicately. "Your knee."

Clark stared at her for a moment, baffled, his eyebrows rising behind the thick black frames of his eyeglasses. "Excuse me?"

Lana prompted in a tiny, sweet voice, "You should be on your knee."

Red with embarrassment, Clark dropped her hand and stood up in a rush, brushing his palms down his chest in a useless attempt to smooth down his perpetually rumpled suit. He dropped to one knee with a thud that made him wince and hope that he hadn't accidentally left a dent in the floor. Grabbing her hand again, he looked up at Lana and repeated in a voice that carried through the sudden hush that had fallen in the restaurant, "Will you marry me?"

Blinking back tears of joy, Lana nodded and whispered, "Yes." When Clark failed to move, she wiggled the fingers of the hand he was still holding and smiled expectantly. "Clark?"

Stunned at the answer he'd hoped for, but hadn't truly believed he would receive, Clark grinned back. "Lana?"

Her perfect face losing some its sweetness, Lana hissed out of the side of her still-smiling lips, "The ring."

"The ring," Clark dutifully repeated. "The ring!" Dropping her hand, he frantically began to pat the pockets of his jacket, sighing in relief when he found the errant velvet-covered box. Pulling it out, he flipped open the lid and displayed the contents to Lana. "The ring."

As she examined the simple solitaire set in yellow gold, Lana's lips thinned for just an instant before she looked back up at Clark. "Oh, Clark, it's...lovely." She extracted it from the box and slipped it onto her finger to check the fit. Holding it up to the light, she watched it sparkle as she accepted the polite applause from the restaurant's patrons, and then she looked back down at Clark with a patient, understanding smile. "It fits perfectly and...I'll never have to worry about it looking too...bourgeoisie." Her eyebrows lifted when he remained on one knee, smiling back at her in giddy relief. "Clark, we're done."

Clark echoed, "Done." When Lana tapped his cheek, he shook his head and repeated, "We're done." Looking around the restaurant, he suddenly realized he was seeing everything from a much lower vantage point than usual and began to scramble to his feet. Unfortunately, it was at the same moment that the waiter returned with dessert, and Clark ended up wearing his tiramisu and espresso. Taking the napkin offered by the apologetic waiter, Clark shrugged sheepishly. "No problem. At least the suit started out brown this time."

. . .

Standing on the street looking up at the aged brownstone he shared with his parents, Clark sighed. He had a sinking feeling that it was going to be one of those nights when he wished that the family farm had never been sold to developers, and that Jonathan and Martha Kent were three hours away from Metropolis, peacefully milking their cows in Smallville. Chiding himself for preferring chasing down bank robbers instead of discussing his love life, he squared his shoulders and ascended the worn stone steps.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, he called out, "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

His mother's sweet voice responded, "In the kitchen, dear, and your father's in the living room. I'll be right out with coffee."

Nodding at the expected answer, Clark shrugged out of his overcoat and hung it up before joining his father, who was dozing fitfully in front of the ten o'clock news, although he'd never admit to it. Jerking awake when Clark sat down next to him on the sofa, the graying blond rubbed his face and smiled sleepily. "Hey, son. What's up? Catch any crooks lately?"

Clark shook his head fondly, smiling up at his mother as she entered the room with a tray and three coffee mugs. "Nope, it's been pretty quiet, Dad. A few fires, a cat stuck in a tree..." He broke off to rub the side of his face with a grin and a wink. "...and there was one old lady who got really mad when I tried to help her across the street."

Accepting the coffee from his mother, Clark nodded his thanks and waited for her to take a seat in her rocking chair. "I do have some personal news." He looked into her pleasantly eager face and blurted out, "I asked Lana to marry me and she accepted."

Jonathan's coughing fit managed to add to the stains on Clark's abused suit. "You tried that before and it didn't work out."

Clark jumped up and stared down at his father in disbelief. "Chloe got hit by a bus!"

"You took a chance, told her your secret, and look where it got you...a widower after six months."

"Dad!"

A soothing voice from the other side of the room interrupted the two men. "Do you love her, Clark?"

Turning to smile down at the red-haired woman, Clark nodded. "I think I do, Mom. I've known her since before we left Smallville, and we get along well together. It's the right thing to do."

Jonathan cleared his throat, causing Clark to turn and glare at him. "Son, have you told her?"

Clark shook his head and ruffled his dark curls. "I wanted to wait until she said, 'yes,' and then I was going to take her to the Fortress."

Martha nodded sagely. "That's a good plan, dear, you should definitely be certain that you love her before telling her that you're Superman. And be sure she bundles up when you fly her up there. You know how cold it gets there."

Clark rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I know, Mom. Look, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning."

Climbing the stairs to his third-floor room, Clark could hear his parents murmuring. Jonathan was protesting that Clark didn't need to get married again and Martha was already making plans for a large wedding. She firmly believed that Clark's bad luck with Chloe was a direct result of their informal marriage in the county clerk's office. Clark sighed heavily and stripped off his coffee-soaked tie in disgust, wondering how soon he could move into Lana's uptown apartment.

. . .

"Clark, I have to go to Smallville for a few days to see Lionel. He's not feeling well." Lana's clear, sweet voice brought a smile to Clark's face despite her bad news. "I need you to do a few things for the wedding, okay?"

Grabbing a pen and a pad of paper, Clark dutifully began to make a list. It was the latest of many that he'd compiled over the last few weeks since he and Lana had set the date for the wedding. "Okay, shoot."

"The swatches for the bridesmaids have to be picked up from the dress shop, the invitation proofs have to be returned to the engravers and, oh, I almost forgot!"

"What, darling?"

"I want you to personally visit my stepbrother and invite him to the wedding."

"I didn't know you had...."

"We've been estranged for a long time...since before Nell married Lionel. It all happened when you were gone that year...a long, complicated story you really don't want to hear. Anyway, five years is too many. Ever since Nell died, it's just been Lionel and me, and he deserves to have his son at his side during his last days."

"Lana, I...I didn't realize Lionel was so ill. Have you told him that we're getting married?"

"No, not yet, Clark. The poor dear has been declining rapidly, and I can't just tell him over the phone. I'm afraid he'll think I'm abandoning him. That's why I'm going out to the castle...to tell him in person. Besides, he needs to have someone there to make sure he's getting the proper care."

"You're so thoughtful, darling. I'll take care of things here, don't worry."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Whenever you can find the time, I understand that you're busy. Bye. Oh, wait. Your brother. What's his name?"

Lana's tinkling laughter brought another smile to his lips. "Alexander, but we all called him Lex."

"So I'm going to go see...."

"Lex Luthor at Cadmus Labs. You'll recognize him without any problem. He's been bald as an egg since the meteors hit Smallville."

Frowning at the phone after Lana hung up, Clark wondered about the mysterious stepbrother that Lana had never mentioned before. Somewhere in between Nell Potter's engagement and marriage to Lionel Luthor, and her death three years later, a member of the Luthor family had been...lost. Clark began to wonder how many other secrets Lana had been keeping, and felt a little less guilty that he hadn't yet shared his own.

. . .

Clark ducked as a pad of paper flew over from the desk opposite his. "Here's what you were looking for, Smallville. Now, are you going to share why you're checking up on Cadmus Labs?"

Trying to make sense of his partner's hieroglyphics, Clark shook his head. "It's personal, Lois, not a story." He tapped one of the scribbled sentences. "Does this say they focus on Mickey Mouse calendars?"

"No, it's micro-crystalline cellular applications or something like that. I gave up after the third time I asked Luthor's assistant to spell it for me." Clark could feel her rolling her eyes on the other side of her laptop. "You owe me, big time."

"I know, I know, lunch for a week. I really appreciate it, Lois. I had so many errands to run for Lana...."

"Ah, yes, your princess. When's she coming back, anyway? I always figured it was the bride who handled all the wedding details."

Clark shut down his laptop and tucked it away in its case. "She's really busy taking care of Lionel and she is taking care of the details. Well,,,at least she thinks of them and I..." Clark grimaced, hoping Lois would just let it drop. "...do the legwork. I've got to hurry or I'll miss my appointment."

Lois sniggered and drawled sarcastically, "Right.... Have I mentioned lately how glad I am that Lana didn't ask me to be a bridesmaid?"

Picking up his laptop case and overcoat, Clark shook his head and answered flatly, "Not in the last two hours."

. . .

"Excuse me. I'm here to see Dr. Luthor." Clark waited patiently for the dark-haired woman behind the desk to finish typing and look up at him. She raised a delicately arched brow above a supercilious smile and said nothing. "Dr. Luthor? I have an appointment. Clark Kent. Two o'clock." Reaching out, he tapped the entry on the appointment book open in front of her. "That's me."

Her smile slipped to a moue and she stood up, silently beckoning him to follow her through a secured door. Her heels clacked along a hallway devoid of any other people until she stopped in front of an unmarked door. Knocking twice, she entered, letting the door swing shut in Clark's face. Undeterred, he pushed his way through and stood gaping at the large room filled with gleaming pieces of unrecognizable equipment.

"Helen, I told you I didn't want to be dis...." The growling voice ground to a halt as the owner spun around on his stool and looked up into Clark's face. "Who are you?"

Mesmerized by the piercing blue eyes of the pale, bald man in front of him, Clark failed to answer. With a disgusted sound, the woman supplied the requested information. "He says he's Clark Kent and that he has an appointment with you, Lex."

Standing, Lex nodded and waved dismissively at the hovering woman. "That's fine, Helen. Why don't you go back to the desk until the temp arrives from the agency?" With a sniff, she turned on her heel and slammed out of the lab without another word. Lex raised an eyebrow at her behavior and smirked at Clark. "You'll have to excuse Dr. Bryce. I'm afraid she's a little resentful at being asked to fill in for our receptionist. Charity went home sick, and it's taken a few hours to find a bonded replacement." Shrugging, he offered his right hand to Clark. "I'm Lex Luthor. I'm pleased to meet you...Mr. Kent?"

Clark finally shook himself out of his daze long enough to shake Lex's hand, pausing for only a moment when he realized that it was artificial. "Clark. Clark Kent of the Daily Planet."

"So I understood from your partner, Ms. Lane. So tell me, Clark, what brings you to Cadmus? I don't recall any recent announcements on important breakthroughs."

Lex's smile had been genuine that time, and Clark found himself falling back under the spell of blue eyes that missed nothing. Understanding that he needed to extend the invitation and then leave before he made a complete fool of himself, Clark began to babble, "No...I mean, yes, there haven't been any announcements...at least, not for the lab. There is one...important, that is...I...I'mgoingtomarryyourstepsisterLana."

The silence that fell after Clark's jumble of words was chilling. Lex stared down at his right hand for a few moments, a muscle twitching in his jaw. When his head lifted, Clark took a step back from the eyes that had transformed into blue ice. "You're here to tell me you're going to marry Lana Lang. May I inquire as to why you thought I'd care to meet the man who's going to wed my ex-fiancee?" Lex thrust the plastic and steel replacement in Clark's face. "Lana Lang, the very same woman who called off our wedding because of this!"

. . .

"My mom always says you think better with food in your stomach." Clark slid the omelet onto a plate and set it down in front of Lex, who scowled at it. "C'mon, eat it while it's hot." Turning back to the stove, he began cooking one for himself. When he'd found out Lex hadn't eaten yet that day, he'd insisted on accompanying Lex to the Luthor Towers penthouse, seventy-five stories above the labs in the basement, and making sure he had some lunch. Clark had promised Lana, and he wasn't going to leave until he'd succeeded in convincing Lex to attend the wedding.

Resigning himself to the fact that Clark wasn't going to leave until he'd eaten and they'd talked, Lex picked up a fork and cut off a tiny piece of the omelet and sampled it. Surprised that it was edible, he settled down to devour it without any further objections. "This is good, Clark."

Turning off the stove and picking up his own plate, Clark joined Lex at the table. "My mom insisted that I learn how to cook for myself when she found out that Chloe could burn water."

"Chloe?"

"My...first wife. She...died."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. It was a long time ago. We weren't married very long."

"And now you're going to try again with Lana." Holding up his right hand, Lex grimaced. "I've got some advice for you, never get hurt or sick."

Clark shoved away from the table in frustration. "I grew up in Smallville with Lana and she's not like that! In fact, she's in Smallville right now, taking care of your father."

"She never tried to take care of me. One accident in the lab and it was all over. One minute I was laughing about my upcoming wedding, and the next I was looking at where my hand used to be."

"That was years ago, Lex. Why didn't you find someone else?"

Lex got up and selected a CD on the ceiling-to-floor sound system. The soaring notes of a soprano washed over them as Lex paced over to the picture window to look out over the city. "And take a chance I'd lose the other one? I'm not that crazy. I guess you are."

Clark joined him, watching Lex's reflection in the window instead of the streets below. "I'm not going to get hurt, Lex."

Lex shrugged. "One moment of inattention...."

Grabbing Lex's shoulder, Clark swung the smaller man around to face him. His other hand grasped Lex's bicep as he shook him gently. "I'm not...going...to get...hurt." His breath caught at the blue fire in Lex's eyes as he looked up into Clark's face.

Lex's left hand rose slowly to stroke along Clark's clenched jaw, lifting his glasses away and tossing them on a nearby table. "I think...it's inevitable."

They had leaned in towards each other as they argued, until their faces were only a few inches apart. It was impossible to tell who kissed whom first. It didn't matter. It was an explosion that set both of them aflame. Tearing at each other's clothes, biting, licking, they stumbled down the hall and into Lex's bedroom. Stopping himself with an effort before he pushed Clark down on the bed, Lex asked, "What about Lana?"

Clark finished unzipping his pants and shook his head. "I can't think about her right now. All I know is that I want you more than I've wanted anyone else in my entire life." Reaching out, he pulled Lex into his arms and fell backward onto the bed.

The soprano sang of love's fading triumph and the return of bitter pain.

Neither man listened to her words.

. . .

The moon drew him, a luminescent pearl in the ocean of night. Standing in front of the window, he held both hands up and they failed to span the celestial sphere. "I've never seen one this size before."

"It makes you look like an angel."

He shrugged away the extravagant compliment. The arm that stroked down his back caressed without a hand, yet that failed to disturb him. He shifted to allow the other man room and they stood together watching until passion rose again.

. . .

Unwilling to open his eyes and face the cold light of day, Clark hummed and stretched luxuriously, enjoying the sensation of the warm, hard body lying atop his.

"Clark, I've heard some fancy descriptions of floating away in ecstasy, but I can't say that I'd ever believed it could actually happen."

Suddenly registering the fact that he no longer felt the sheets against his back, Clark looked up at the ceiling a few short feet away and stiffened, tightening his arms around Lex until the smaller man squeaked in protest. "Air!" Releasing Lex also seemed to jolt Clark out of his daze, and gravity took over. The two men tumbled to the carpet, Lex fortunately remaining on top and thus avoiding the pancake effect.

Propping himself up on his elbows, which happened to be firmly planted on Clark's chest and forestalling any attempt at escape, Lex grinned down at Clark's flustered face. "So you grew up in Smallville. Anything else you'd like to share?"

"Um...no?"

"That's what I thought."

"Let me up."

"Why? I like it here."

"I don't. I have to leave."

"Stay."

"Lex, I can't do this! I'm going to marry Lana."

"You can't marry her. I love you."

"You're insane!"

"Why? Because I love you? That hardly seems fair after last night."

Clark rolled and dumped Lex gently onto the thick carpet. Getting up, he began to gather his clothing, groaning at the missing buttons and shredded boxers. Quickly dressing in what he could salvage, he stood over Lex, who was still lying there naked, and frowned down at his smirking grin. "I can't see you again."

"Of course you will. I'll be at the wedding. I'll also have something to say."

"You can't!"

Rolling to his side and propping his head up on his truncated arm, Lex shrugged. "Okay, I won't, but you have to come to the opera with me two days from now. 'La Boheme' is being staged at the Met."

"I...all right."

"Curtain goes up at eight. I'll pick you up...."

"I'll meet you there. Seven-thirty."

"Fine."

"Fine."

. . .

Annoyed that he'd forgotten his glasses at Lex's, Clark stopped in front of the optician's, frowning at the selection. Next door, a busy salon displayed the latest hairstyles in the window, and Clark drifted over to study one that looked as if it could actually look good on him. Standing between the two doors, he dithered until a handsome man walked out of the salon and smiled at him before walking away down the street.

He was inside before the door could close.

. . .

"Have you ever been to the opera?" Clark looked at himself in the three-way mirror as the salesperson tweaked the shoulders of the best-looking, best-fitting suit he'd ever tried on.

Catching Clark's eye in the mirror, she winked as she adjusted the back vent, accidentally brushing across his buttocks. "Honey, you wear this to the Met, and no one is going to be paying attention to the singing."

Taking a deep breath, Clark announced, "I'll take it."

. . .

Waiting by the fountain outside the Metropolitan Opera House, Clark scanned the crowd, looking for Lex's distinctive head. Beginning to get discouraged, he turned to look in the other direction and Lex was there, just a few feet away, staring with wide blue eyes.

"You look...beautiful."

Clark ducked his head at the unexpected compliment, taking in the perfectly fitted suit and red silk tie, overcoat casually draped over the right arm. Lex's skin glowed, just as the moon had the night before. "You look beautiful, too."

Taking the few remaining steps forward to close the distance between them, Lex leaned in for a kiss, but Clark pushed him away gently. "I said I'd go to the opera with you, that's it." Lex sighed, but stepped back as Clark had asked.

They climbed the marble staircase together and headed for the coatroom. When Clark took off his overcoat to hand to the attendant, Lex was almost speechless. "Thank you, Clark."

"For what?"

Lex's eyes glimmered in the light of the chandeliers. "For taking the time to look so handsome for me. It's been a long time since I've been to the opera, and you're making it memorable."

Clark dipped his head shyly and accepted Lex's arm as they ascended to the boxes. The Luthors had a lifetime subscription to the opera, and their box looked down on the stage in privileged privacy. Clark balked for a moment before entering the dim, close space and then decided he was certainly strong enough to fend off any advances Lex might make.

Taking his seat, Clark leaned forward to peer down at the stage and audience, a low-level excitement at the new experience fizzing through his veins. "It's gorgeous," he sighed.

"Yes, gorgeous." Clark turned his head to see Lex looking at him instead of the stage, and he blushed. He wasn't used to anyone seeing him. He'd spent his life seeking anonymity and been highly successful at it. Lex had been the first person to penetrate the disguise without an effort, his blue eyes never missing a detail. Clark turned back to the stage, pretending not to understand, but the weight of Lex's regard warmed the chilled depths of his lonely soul.

. . .

"Lex! What a surprise to see you here!" Clark frowned at the brunette who attached herself to Lex's arm during intermission, planting an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek.

"Victoria. It has been a while." Detaching himself with a moue of displeasure, Lex slid his arm around Clark's back. "I'd like you to meet my date, Clark Kent. Clark, an old friend, Victoria Hardwick."

Obviously taken aback, Victoria managed only the slightest smile. "Oh, how...nice to meet you." Her tone lost its flirtatious warmth, and she searched the crowd around them, seeking an excuse to leave. Suddenly, glancing over Lex's shoulder, she flashed a brightly insincere grin at someone behind them. "Dominic!" Avoiding any physical contact with Clark, she edged around the two men. "I'll see you later, Lex."

Feeling uncomfortable, Clark apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you away from your friends, Lex."

Handing Clark a glass of champagne, Lex took one himself and sipped. "You didn't, Clark. I'm right where I want to be." Dismissing the subject, Lex asked, "Are you enjoying the opera?"

Clark nodded with a smile of delight. "The music is wonderful and so are the costumes. I just wish I understood the language better."

"Well, it's a version of 'Camille,' which was the basis for 'Moulin Rouge.'"

Clark's eyes widened. "So what you're telling me is she's going to die. That's so sad!"

"It is one of the great tragedies." Lex handed their glasses to a passing waiter and then guided Clark to the side wall where some beautiful masters were on display. "What do you think of this one?"

"It's...pretty bright."

"It's a Chagall. He did like to play around, have fun with his subjects and colors."

"I think I like it. It makes me think of...flying." The lights flickered twice, and Clark looked around at the crowd, puzzled.

Lex chuckled and took his arm again. "It's the signal to return to our seats."

Clark nodded and pressed a little closer to Lex, pretending to himself it was so that he wouldn't bump into anyone else by accident.

. . .

Walking along beneath the surreal moon, the two men laughed and argued, telling stories from the past, revealing their hopes and dreams. Stopping in a plaza beside a fountain, Lex faced Clark and smiled up at him, waiting.

Clark, suddenly shy again, looked at the surrounding buildings and belatedly exclaimed, "Hey, this is your place! Why are we here?"

One eyebrow arched as Lex smirked. "Why do you think we're here, Clark?"

Shaking his head, Clark backed up a step. "It was just supposed to be the opera, that's all. I can't do this. I'm marrying Lana." When Lex just smiled mockingly, Clark threw up his arms in frustration. "Are you even listening to me?"

Lex followed Clark and pressed in close. "Why do you want to sell your life short? You're playing it safe and that's a dangerous thing for a man like you to do." His hands slid up Clark's chest to cup his cheeks. "You've waited all this time for the right person. Why are you giving up and marrying Lana instead?"

Clark shook his head under Lex's restraining hands. "The right person? She...he...no one ever showed up."

Tipping his head up, Lex brushed a kiss across Clark's lips. "I'm here."

Bringing his arms in to Lex's chest, Clark tore himself free and protested, "You're too late!"

"It's never too late for love, Clark." Looking up, Lex pointed at the crystal orb that shone down on them. "You can't look at that moon and tell me love is impossible. It can't be as long as beauty like that exists." Rubbing the back of his neck, he paced in front of the fountain. "I'm not saying love is perfect. It ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess."

Stopping, he turned back to look at Clark, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "But we aren't here to make things perfect! Snowflakes are perfect. Stars are perfect. Not us! We are here on this earth to ruin ourselves, and to break our hearts, and love the wrong people, and die." Striding forward confidently, Lex grabbed Clark by his upper arms and shook him. "The storybooks are bullshit, Clark. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and get into my bed!"

The closing strains of the tragic opera replayed in Clark's head as he looked into Lex's intense face and then up at the moon. He nodded, took Lex's hand, went upstairs, and got into Lex's bed.

. . .

"I didn't hear you come in last night, Clark." Martha was bustling about the kitchen making coffee and stirring up pancake batter.

Pulling the jug of orange juice out of the refrigerator, Clark poured a glass before answering his mother, carefully avoiding looking her in the eye. "I got in early this morning. I was...busy."

Martha's eyes narrowed as she studied her son, who was quite obviously omitting something in his explanation. The doorbell interrupted her before she could ask a more specific question. Glancing at the clock above the sink, she frowned at the time. "Who could that be, this early in the morning?"

Focusing through the wooden door to the other side, Clark choked on his juice. "Mom, don't answer...."

"Good morning. You must be Mrs. Kent. I'm Lex Luthor. I'm here for your son." Lex easily slid through the narrow space Martha had left open when she answered the door. Looking down the hallway, he grinned when he caught sight of Clark standing in the kitchen. "Good morning, Clark." Without waiting for an invitation, he opened his coat and walked through to stand directly in front of Clark.

"What...are...you...doing...here? You...promised," hissed Clark through gritted teeth.

Blue eyes gazed up at him without a hint of artifice or deception. "I missed you."

Martha walked over to the stove and checked the temperature of the cast-iron griddle on the front burners. "Would anyone like some pancakes?"

Lex pulled out a chair, sat down, and then defiantly folded his arms across his chest, smirking at Clark. "Yes, Mrs. Kent, I would love some pancakes."

Glaring hard enough to make Lex shift a little in his seat, Clark growled, "No, Mom, we don't want any pancakes!"

Setting a heavily loaded plate down in front of Lex, Martha handed him the maple syrup before returning to the stove. Grinning triumphantly at Clark, Lex thanked her. "I have a feeling these are going to be just delicious, Mrs. Kent." Picking up his fork, Lex began to cut the pancakes into bite-size pieces.

Clark sighed in resignation, grabbed a plate and stole several pancakes for himself before sitting down next to Lex. "Pass the syrup, please."

Yawning, Jonathan walked into the kitchen, stopping abruptly in the doorway when he realized they had an early morning visitor. "Clark?"

Swallowing quickly, Clark blurted, "Dad, this is Lex. He's...."

"My stepbrother." Lana stepped around Jonathan to enter the kitchen. "Good morning, everyone."

Clark jumped up, choking on his last mouthful of pancake. "...ana! You're back!" He scowled at Lex, who calmly continued eating his pancakes after nodding a greeting in Lana's direction. "I wasn't expecting you."

Twisting her hands nervously, Lana agreed, "I know. It was sort of a last-minute decision. I...need to talk to you, Clark." When Clark nodded, encouraging her to continue, she looked at the others in the room and then shrugged, accepting the fact that it wouldn't be a private conversation. "The thing is...Lionel has been getting so much better because I've been taking care of him, and then we started talking about my coming back to Metropolis and he got so pale and I couldn't just leave him...."

Lex set his fork down and stood up, placing his hand in the small of Clark's back. "It sounds to me like maybe you're marrying the wrong man, Lana." Clark froze at the words, his face stricken.

Lana looked down at her engagement ring and nodded. "You're right. That's why I'm here." She looked back up at Clark and winced. "I'm sorry, Clark. Lionel asked me to marry him...and I accepted."

Fumbling for his chair, Clark managed to lower himself into it without falling. He sat there blinking, his face puzzled as he looked between Lana and Lex, who stood next to Clark throwing daggers at Lana with his eyes. Cocking his head to one side, Clark said with wonder, "It's okay, Lana. I understand and...I think you made the right choice."

Lex's head swiveled back to Clark, his blue eyes surprised. "Clark?"

"I'm fine, Lex. Really." Clark smiled up at Lex, his green eyes clear and calm, displaying no distress over Lana's announcement.

Lex dropped to one knee and took Clark's hands in his. "Clark. Marry me."

There was a choking sound and Jonathan fell into the nearest empty chair, his eyes wide in disbelief. Lana gasped once before clapping a hand over her mouth.

Martha flipped another pancake.

"Lex, I...yes. Yes!"

"Where's the ring?" Martha had turned around and was standing in front of the stove, with her hands on her hips and frowning at Lex.

Lex cocked an expectant eyebrow in Lana's direction. Rolling her eyes, she yanked the ring off her finger, and threw it at Lex, who caught it with a grin. Lana turned and flounced out of the kitchen, the slam of the front door signaling her exit.

Still on his knee, Lex held Clark's left hand with his right and tried to slide the ring on. It took several tries before he was able to shove it down to the first knuckle of Clark's little finger while Clark blushed in embarrassment at the size of his digits. Turning Clark's hand over, Lex placed a kiss in the center of his broad palm. "Thank you. You've made me a very happy man."

Baffled by all the new developments, Jonathan looked around the kitchen, waiting for any other strangers to appear, before asking his son, "Are you trying to say you love him, Clark?"

Leaning forward to caress Lex's cheek as he knelt there, still holding Clark's hand, the newly re-engaged man nodded and declared in a firm voice, "I do, Dad. I love him with all my heart."

Martha set a fresh stack of pancakes down in the center of the table before walking over to Clark's red jacket hanging by the back door. She searched the pockets, retrieved something from one of them, and carried it over to Lex. Standing behind him, she pulled the black watch cap down over his bald head and admonished Clark, "Make sure he stays warm. It's cold up there."

Clark's grin was bright enough to light the entire room. "Yeah, I know, Mom." He stood up, offered his hand to Lex, and tugged him up from the floor. Grabbing his jacket, he shrugged it on before turning back to his parents. "We'll be back in time for supper."

Still confused, Jonathan watched the two men leave and then turned to his wife. "So is Clark the bride or the groom...and if he's the bride, do I have to pay for the wedding?"

Martha just smiled and shook her head. "Have some pancakes, dear."

fin

Notes: Written for 2007 Undermistletoe Mystery Schmoop Week. Also a prompt response for myownghost, so hopefully some resemblance to portions of the 1987 movie, 'Moonstruck' may be detectable if you squint and tilt your head to the left. Many thanks to my beta jakrar, who's the absolute best. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville. Norman Jewison and John Patrick Shanley, and Star Partners own 'Moonstruck'. Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.

Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.