LIBERTY by mako

Part Four

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Thankfully, morning eventually arrived and at the first sign of pink on the horizon, Clark slipped out of the bed he'd shared with Lex the night before and tried to get dressed without making a sound. Underwear yanked up, shirt slipped over head, a couple of hops into his jeans and ...

"Clark?" Grey eyes peered owlishly at him from the bed. "Is it morning already?"

Mid-hop, Clark lost his balance and stumbled back, grimacing as he thunked into the wall, his pants somewhere around his knees. "Ow. No, no ... it's not morning for you, Lex. Go back to sleep."

Lex stretched up into a sitting position. "Why not for me?" he asked, squinting through the dim light as Clark scrambled to get dressed. "And are you okay?"

"I'm fine and you don't have to get up because you're our guest. We don't make guests hit the fields at dawn. That's for us, not you."

"Ah," Lex nodded. He tossed the blankets aside and got up. "Okay. Where's the shower?"

Clark groaned with frustration. "Didn't you hear me? Go back to bed."

"I heard you, but unfortunately, I don't take orders very well." Lex crouched and retrieved his suitcase from under the rollaway. "If I'm living here, I plan on working here. I'm not a complete recluse, Clark. I know that staying at a farm mandates certain responsibilities and I'm not good at shirking." A tiny sound of triumph registered as one monogrammed towel was discovered. "Just show me to the shower and I'll be ready in two."

"One, we don't take showers in the morning if we're going to work the fields. That's just a waste of time," said Clark. "Two, you came here to rest, not break your back working."

"Work is relaxing, Clark." Lex draped the towel around his neck defiantly. "And without a morning shower I'm a danger to my fellow man, so show me where it is before I tell your mother on you."

Clark gaped at him, torn between laughter and annoyance. "Tell her what?"

"I dunno," Lex shrugged. "But whatever I think up, I guarantee it'll be good."

"Fine," Clark replied, throwing his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He flung open a wooden door at the other end of the loft and with a flourish, ushered Lex toward it. "There's your shower, Your Highness. Watch for the spiders. If you see any, just aim the spray at them."

Blinking, Lex peeked inside the small wooden alcove with a detached shower hose hanging from its ceiling. He raised an eyebrow at Clark. "Spiders?"

"Of course, I'll understand if this is a tad too rough for your taste," said Clark, casually examining his fingernails. "You can always use the nice modern one in the main house. I'm sure Mom will be more than happy to give you the flower-shaped soaps and embroidered washcloths."

Lex made a horrible face. "I guess I don't need a shower ... yet." His eyes narrowed at Clark. "But I'm still going out there with you."

"Suit yourself, Lex. But you're going to be wishing for that bed before you know it."

"Hardly. But I appreciate your concern," said Lex haughtily. He glanced slyly at Clark. "Spider Boy."

"Get dressed, Luthor," said Clark, bristling. "And prepare to meet your barnyard destiny."

"I'm ready," replied Lex defiantly. "Bring it on."

Oh, I will, Lex, thought Clark with a grin. I definitely will.

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A heady smell of sizzling eggs and mushrooms filled the air as Clark sat down at the Kent's kitchen table, piece of bread in hand before he hit his chair. "Morning, Mom," he mumbled through a mouthful of buttered toast.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Martha smiled from the stove. At the sight of Lex wandering in behind her son, she frowned. "Lex! What are you doing up? You should be sleeping."

"I wanted to help out, Mrs. Kent." Charming Luthor smile, and he sat next to Clark. "Smells wonderful in here."

Jonathan Kent peered blearily over his coffee cup at him. "Help out?"

"Um, actually he's just going to be me for the day. You know, observing," Clark said quickly, hoping his father was too sleepy to care.

No such luck. "Observing?" Jonathan sat back in his chair and narrowly examined both of them. "I don't think that's a good idea. Farms may look pretty, Lex, but underneath those waves of green lies a dangerous operation. All the machinery here is big, sharp and ugly and some of it can rip a man's arm off before he even knows its gone." He shook his head. "I don't want to take that sort of risk, especially with a guest."

"With all due respect, Mr. Kent, the fertilizer plant I run isn't exactly a Toys R Us," replied Lex politely. "And nothing is quite as ugly or dangerous as a thousand gallon tank full of steaming cow dung."

Jonathan grunted in agreement. "Won't argue with you there." He nodded toward his son. "All right, you'll have to keep your eyes open then, Clark. I don't want to hear about a single accident today. I've got five in the lower forty left to plant and if it's not done by week's end, it'll be too late. We can't afford any distractions."

"Yes, Dad," replied Clark, swallowing down a huge forkful of eggs. "As for the five acres, I can help you with those, you know."

At this, Jonathan's eyes twinkled. "Why? Think your old Dad is getting too far along in years for the hard stuff?"

Clark blushed. "No. I just thought ... you know. That I could start taking on some of the important chores, instead of doing all the side jobs."

Smiling, Jonathan rose. "All our chores are important, Clark." He leaned over and kissed the top of his son's head. "Thanks anyway, Shanester." He sidled up to his wife and kissed her neck. "See you later, hot cakes."

Martha giggled and smacked him with a dishtowel. "Hit the road -- before my inner feminist wakes up."

"That's okay. She's hot too," replied Jonathan, the kitchen door closing behind him.

More giggles from his mother as she left the kitchen and Clark noticed that Lex was taking in all of this interaction silently, as if watching a play.

"Your parents really seem to love each other ... and you," Lex commented quietly after a few moments of silence.

Embarrassed, Clark shrugged. "Yeah, we're pretty close -- usually. We have fights though. Lots of them. But most of the time, it's pretty peaceful around here."

"And what's this about a "Shanester"?" asked Lex curiously. "Why did your Dad call you that?"

"Nickname. Long story. Forget it," Clark mumbled. "It's dumb."

"Dumb?" Lex looked at him ruefully. "I never had a nickname."

"Lucky you." The conversation was making Clark uncomfortable and he didn't know why. "Come on, let's get to work so we can finish before lunch."

"Okay." Lex took a long last sip of coffee. "And remember, I don't want any special treatment. Whatever has to be done, I want to do it."

"No problem," grinned Clark. "Besides, who says Luthors deserve any special treatment?"

"No one I know," replied Lex, as they headed out of the kitchen and toward the early morning fields. "Definitely no one I know."

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They trudged through the apple orchard together, both dragging a lengthy coil of irrigation hose in each hand. The sun was already hot even at that early hour and Clark glanced over to his companion to make sure he was okay.

Lex looked fine, with a blue bandana covering his head and eyes hidden behind what must have been a hideously expensive pair of sunglasses. With his square black boots and tight Levi's, he appeared more a biker than a farmer, but Clark rather envied Lex's ability to look stylish even while trudging through mud.

Must be nice to be born rich, he thought wistfully. Instant coolness, guaranteed. "Sorry about my dad back there."

"Why? Did he do something?" Lex shifted one of the heavy coils onto his shoulder. "I didn't notice."

"He was just being ... you know ... "

"Just being your father?" Lex grinned. "To be honest Clark, I'm having trouble finding anything wrong with him. Even his initial dislike of me is understandable and if you compare him to what you could have ended up with ..."

"He was being overbearing," Clark insisted. "He's got this safety issue and he goes way overboard with it. I mean, he knows that you're not a little kid, at least."

"Are you saying that he doesn't view you in that mature sort of light?"

Clark laughed. "Are you kidding? In my father's mind, I'm five -- now and forever."

Lex paused, flipping up his sunglasses so as to meet Clark's eyes with his own. "In my father's mind I was forty when I was five. Just a suggestion, Clark, but try to appreciate it. Appreciate the nagging and the nicknames and the affection. All I'm going to say is that it beats an epee at your throat."

"An epee?"

"Never mind." With a groan, Lex dropped the coil. "Jeez, are we there yet?"

"Just a little more," Clark said, as he picked up the dropped hose and put it over the two he already carried. "To the end of the row."

Lex looked out toward where Clark pointed and groaned again. "You really do this every day?"

"Only spring, summer and fall," replied Clark humorfully. "We have winters off, more or less." He turned around, grinning madly. "Come on, farmhand, get a move on. Or are you ready to head back to bed, your Luthorness?"

A strange look of sullen determination came over Lex's face. "Lead on, Spider Boy," he grouched, snatching his coil off of Clark's shoulder. "And watch how I water your apples, baby."

Clark's laughter filled the air and together, they made their way to the far end of the orchard, to where a tractor sat, dormant.

Lex's eyes lit up at the sight. "I have always wanted to drive one of these."

"Absolutely not," replied Clark quickly. "That's heavy machinery, and nothing like a Porsche, trust me. Which, by the way, you can't drive either."

Ignoring him, Lex jumped into the driver's seat and found a key in the ignition. "Oh boy," he said, a look of childlike glee covering his face. "Where's the gas?"

"Lex ..." Clark warned ominously. "Get away from that."

The tractor rumbled to life and lurched forward suddenly, Lex at the wheel. "Okay, now I need the brake," he yelled out as the juggernaut rolled forward. "Brake, Clark. Need brake."

For a second, Clark debated letting Lex roll for a while, just to teach him a lesson, but the tractor was moving quickly, very quickly, toward the Kent's long fence -- the one that separated a forty head herd of dairy cows from the rest of the farm.

"Dammit, Lex," he swore under his breath and took a short burst of enhanced speed forward. Just enough to get there, not enough for Lex to notice, but to Clark's horror he realized he was going to be too late to stop the inevitable.

"Gah!" Lex cried as the tractor plowed through the quaint whitewashed wooden fence with a resounding series of crunches.

"Augh!" Clark yelled, leaping into the tractor and fumbling for the controls as an entire herd of cows moo'd and ran for cover. "Lex!"

Pandemonium reigned as Clark finally pulled the tractor to a stop. Cows were trotting past them, filing out the fence hole and on toward the main house, where Clark's mother stood watering her herb garden, blissfully unaware that a bovine invasion was expeditiously heading her way.

Clark covered his face with his hands. "Oh God ..."

"Those cows sure can move fast," said Lex numbly, as if examining a scientific experiment. "I had no idea they could move that fast."

The next sound was a series of female shrieks, echoing loudly enough to scare an entire flock of barn swallows straight toward the heavens. "Clark! Oh my God ... CLARK!"

"Coming, Mom!" Clark glared at Lex who hung his head sheepishly. "Lesson number two -- cow wrangling. Get yourself ready to be pee'd on, city boy."

Lex nodded sadly, as more shrieks sounded from afar. "They're eating all my basil! CLARK!"

"Coming, Mom!"

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"Damage report," intoned Clark's father upon Clark and Lex's arrival at the late afternoon dinner table.

Clark winced as he sat. "It wasn't much when all was said and done." He frantically scooped peas onto his plate. "Honestly, Dad."

Jonathan coolly regarded both of them. "Really? Lex, would you like to tell me what sort of trouble you two got into today?"

"I swear, it's nothing I can't pay for, Mr. Kent." Lex looked abashed. "Or ... or ... fix. I think."

"Jon, will you stop picking on them?" Martha sat down, exasperated. "You'd think you'd never made a mistake in your life."

It was a bizarre thought but Clark could have sworn a smile was lurking beneath his father's outwardly stern demeanor. "Dad, it was my fault. I didn't explain the tractor controls correctly before letting Lex use it. And besides, the fence is patched for the night, the herd is accounted for ... everything's fine."

"Is that so?" Jonathan sniffed. "Well, since it's your fault, Clark ..."

"No, Mr. Kent," Lex interrupted. "It was my fault. I didn't listen to your sound advice." He stared down at the table, looking as sheepish as no Luthor had ever looked before him. "Running a farm is infinitely more dangerous than boiling cow crap ... sir."

Last word added as an afterthought, and Clark turned horror-stricken toward his father. He nearly fell down with shock to see Jonathan first bit his lip, then burst into full-fledged laughter. Shoulder-shaking laughter, with tears actually coming out his eyes.

Long moments passed and Clark stared at his father, trying to understand what was going on, then gave up.

Was anyone going to understand their parents? Ever?

"Oh Lord," Jonathan gasped, wiping his cheeks. "When Martha described your faces while trying to herd those cows back into their pen ... I swear, that's the best laugh I've had in years. I can't tell you how sorry I am to have missed it."

Clark looked at his mother, who was covering her bemusement with a napkin. "Mom?"

"Oh sweetheart. And the way you were yelling at poor Lex ... honey, he's our guest." She burst into giggles. "But, oh my, that was funny."

Befuddled, both Clark and Lex pondered them as they continued to laugh.

Who was ever going to understand parents? Ever?

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It was nearly midnight by the time he and Lex had stretched out on their perspective beds, sore and weary to the core. Lex in particular looked like he was having a painful time of it and Clark dragged himself up, popping open his nightstand drawer with a sigh.

A blue jar was grabbed and he stumbled back to sit on the edge of Lex's bed. "Turn over," he ordered tiredly and Lex obeyed without question. "Shirt up."

A slight struggle, but Lex managed to get the back of his T-shirt up to somewhere around his neck.

"No good. Hold on." Clark popped Lex's T-shirt over his head with one swift pull and tossed it aside. "There. Now relax."

"I'm relaxed," Lex muttered into the pillow. "It's my muscles that are seceding from the union."

"Not for long." Clark opened the jar and stuck his fingers into a sharp-smelling blue salve. "This will be cold at first but it gets warmer, trust me."

"Hmmm," Lex replied as Clark's hands worked their way over his back. Such smooth skin and Clark took his time, being especially careful not to squeeze any muscles too hard. He'd done this for his father for years but wanted to make sure he didn't hurt Lex, since his father would have taken any pain silently, so as not to hurt Clark's feelings.

Clark had an odd idea that Lex might try to do the same.

"Better?" he asked, concentrating on the area between Lex's shoulders and neck.

"Yeah," replied Lex, his voice strangely quiet.

Clark tried not to think about the night before, where he'd spent hours in agony, Lex's proximity driving him nearly out of his mind. He was exhausted, strangely aroused and the warm slide of Lex's skin beneath his fingers wasn't helping any. The salve began to tingle, indicating that it was working and he had to smile when Lex made a pleased sound.

"Wow. That's nice." Whispered, and Lex turned his head toward Clark. "Want me to do you now?"

Clark swallowed hard. Did he want Lex to do him? Do him ... do him ... the words skitted around his brain in careening circles.

"No," he finally choked. "I'm fine. Everything's a-okay."

A slight look of disappointment crossed Lex's features before he turned back against the pillow. "If you change your mind, let me know."

"Sure," Clark said hoarsely, swearing that no matter what, he wasn't going to let Lex know what was going through his mind -- not then, not ever. He got up and stumbled back toward his own bed, turning the lights off as he went. "Goodnight, Lex."

"Goodnight, Clark. Sweet dreams."

Then, lying atop the blankets, Clark began to pray for something resembling peace.

//Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my friend to keep. If I should crack before I wake ...//

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and again, tried to ignore the new and wild rhythms of his body ... his mind ... his soul.

He never knew being a hero was going to be so hard.

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end of Part Four

Click here for Part Five

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