STUPOR
by Dynlubio

E-mail : [email protected]
Spoiler: Precipice
Summary: Lana goes to the mansion and finds Lex in a not so normal behavior.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anybody or anything. I’m just writing this because I want to.
Author’s Note: I wrote this as an answer to challenge #15 at hazardous.
Another thing, I’m HORRIBLE with the tenses so if I jump from present to past tense, please... bear with me. My shrink and I are working on it, I promise.

***

I make my way up the stairs, cringing at the sound the heels of my shoes made all over the place. This Mansion always gave me the creeps. Even after that disastrous birthday bash Nell threw for me here... especially after that.

Which makes me wonder why I’m here, in the first place. I have no right to be here. I’m not expected to be here. And frankly, I don’t THINK I should be here, walking cautiously, listening to the ruckus my shoes are causing.

So why am I here?

A tiny little voice at the back of my head is whispering something... I ignore it of course, because hearing voices in your head is strange, even with Smallville standards.

But it is insistent and it’s slowly growing louder and louder... You’re curious! It accuses me. I am not! I answer back. Try again, missy.

Stupid little voice.

I reach the top of the stairs and went directly to the only other place I know—his office. I walk slowly now, making sure my shoes don’t give me away. The door was slightly ajar and I gave it a tiny push. It opened and revealed Lex Luthor’s slumping form atop his big desk.

"Lex?" I whisper, because not only does this place give me the creeps, I feel like I’m in a damn museum every time I’m here and have to speak in hushed tones lest I disturb the artifacts stored there.

His head rolled from one side to the other. Other than that, I don’t think he heard me. So I take another step forward. "Lex."

Nothing.

"Lex!"

"Wha—" His head snapped up and I knew immediately why he wasn’t at the Talon two hours ago for our business meeting. He’s pissed drunk. "Lana?"

And suddenly I’m no longer curious but angry. For whatever reason, I start hurling hysterical sentences towards him. So what if he’s Lex F***ing-Luthor? If he thought for one second I would let him do this to me—make me wait for hours—while he gets his ass drunk as hell, he‘s got another think coming! Selfish son of a bastard!

Just because he’s the richest man I’ve ever met, it doesn’t give him the right to not let me know if he’s gonna be there or not! Why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he answer my calls? Why is he laughing?

"You’re quite a fireball, aren’t you? Maybe that’s why Clark likes you. I never really saw it... until now."

What is he talking about? "Lex, we had a meeting, remember? I’ve been calling your phone but—"

"It’s not working."

Why is he interrupting me? "What?"

"My phone. It’s not working." He looks at my feet and I follow his gaze. There lie the remnants of an expensive cell phone.

"Well, you could’ve contacted me. I looked like an idiot waiting for you all alone at the Talon. You think you can just do that to someone? I had plans, too, I have a life you—"

"Selfish son of a bastard?" He mutters with a foolish smile.

He’s drunk. This is insane. I should leave.

But I don’t.

And once again, I don’t know why.

I sigh. The sight of him, a six-feet lump of drunkenness and a rumpled Armani shirt, made me want to forget the horrible feeling of waiting for nothing earlier. It made me want to go over there and make sure he’s okay. It made me want to cry, actually.

"What’s the matter, Lex?" I ask, instead.

He snort and says something under his breath. I didn’t catch it, but I pretend otherwise. Talking to him is useless. He’s gonna have one hell of a hang over tomorrow and the only way he’ll probably know I was here is if he checked the surveillance tapes, which he rarely did, unless I decide to take home one of the exquisite vases I saw in the living room. So I should get the hell out of there right now, talk to him in the morning and ask him why he didn’t make an appearance.

That’s it. That’s exactly what I should do. But my feet won’t turn around and let me face the door. When they did move, they took me to his side.

He stunk greatly of alcohol. His face was slightly red and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead before rolling downs his cheeks. The first three buttons of his shirt was opened and I could see his hairless chest barely.

I clear my throat. I’ve seen Whitney and Clark even, naked from the waist up and yes, I felt kinda funny like butterflies swimming in my stomach—is that the right expression? Whatever. But right now, just the tops of Lex’s chest and I can’t breathe, think or... the damn butterflies are not only swimming but diving and doing synchronized swimming in there.

I touch his head. He looks up and smiles goofily up at me. "Lana, what are you doing here?"

I sigh, yet again. "Come on," I tell him as I lift his body out of the chair. It’s not an easy task since he outweighs me by maybe a hundred pounds. I grab his right arm and swing it over my shoulders. "Stand up, Lex."

"Hmm?"

"Stand up!"

Slowly, he followed what I said. "The room is swaying," he informs me.

"I bet it is," I answer him. I hold on to his waist tightly. "Now, we’re gonna walk together, okay? One step at a time..."

"Where are we going?" His breath smells like an open bar gone wild but I kinda like it. Don’t ask me why, coz I don’t know.

"I’m taking you to bed." Left, right, left, right... we trudged.

I could feel him smile. "It’s customary to ask someone if he wants to sleep with you first, I think."

"I’m not going to sleep with you, Lex. You are going to bed—" I stop myself. Why am I bothering with explanations? I should just put him on that couch right there and leave him there.

I pivot our bodies so that we were facing the couch. The endless journey was almost at an end when I felt his head rolling down my shoulders and sliding between my neck and breasts. My grasp loosened and he fell to the floor.

"Ouch!" he said rubbing his head where the edge of the couch hit him. "That didn’t hurt at all."

I sigh and bend over to pick him up. He doesn’t fight me and instead helps me by pushing himself off the floor and on to the couch.

"There!" I declare victoriously. "Now go to sleep."

"You smell nice."

I blink once. Twice. "Thank you. I’ll reschedule our meeting to Thursday afternoon. Please do not consume alcohol—"

"Helen broke up with me."

"What?"

"Helen broke up with me. It hurt to say it the first the time but since you asked..."

So that explains it. The alcohol, the ‘not calling me’ part... I don’t really know Dr. Bryce that well. I only met her once when Lex brought her over for coffee at the Talon.

I never liked her though. There was something about her that... didn’t make sense? Am I making sense? "Sorry to hear that, Lex." I tell him. Actually, I lie to him.

He nods... or something. "I’m... not... I think."

"Yeah right. That’s why you’re drunk."

He was quiet. Staring at me but quiet. "Come here."

I sit beside him. I let him touch my face. Why? Do you really want to ask me that after all the things I’ve done tonight? Have you not learned anything about me yet?

"You’re breathtakingly gorgeous, Lana Lang."

My heart skips a beat... okay, two beats. Three! I inhale what could be my last breath unless my heart decides to work again. Fortunately, it does. "Thank you..." My voice is hushed but sounded intense to my ears.

"How old are you again?" he asks me, his gray eyes fixed on mine.

And I panic. He is drunk and I am sinfully under aged. Not that I would do what his eyes were silently asking me to if I wasn’t... Shaking, I hold the hand that’s touching my face and pull it down. I miss his touch almost immediately. "Not old enough."

"Damn," he whispers with a smile. Then he pushes himself off the couch slightly and holds my face between his hands. He did it softly, like he was afraid I would break into tiny shards probably like that expensive vase I saw outside. And yet, I couldn’t move. Because he was holding me tightly with his eyes.

"Damn," he says again before his lips touch mine.

A hint of alcohol, strangely. Just a hint. But more of an indescribable softness. Then it was over.

I open my eyes and his gray ones retained their hold over them. He lets his hands drop and finally he lies down on his back again.

I have to breathe. I have to get out of here before something happens... something already did... before something MORE happens.

My legs are working again. I stand up. Walk to the door. My mind is nothing but a checklist of things I have to do in the next two minutes or so. The last thing reads: Leave.

The door is near. I’m almost there.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks.

Damn! "Yeah." Ignore him. Leave. That tiny voice is back again. Get out of the house, get in your car and drive, drive, drive!

"Are you sure?"

I turn to look at him. He was regarding me with a slightly amused face. "Good night, Lex."

He smirks. "It could’ve been, Lana."

I get the hell out there. I don’t know how I managed to drive my car, or even start it. But I did.

When I reached the main road, I finally breathed normally. I check my face in the rear view mirror. I am flushed.

It could’ve been, Lana, he tells me.

It should’ve been, Lana. The damn voice is back again.

*dynlubio 4/19/2003 5:32 PM