Rating: PG-13, just because I feel like it

Couple(s): Lex/Chloe; Pete/Lana; Clark/Lois(deal with it!)

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me.

Author's Notes: I missed the pilot episode, so I don't know if Lex had a sister on the show, or if that was only in the comic. If Lena wasn't mentioned in 'Smallville', don't get high and mighty about it. I tried to follow 'Superman' canon as best I could, without making Sexy Lexy completely evil. This is the fourth entry in the series. There might be a fifth if I feel like it. This one takes place eight years after the first three. That's enough of my yapping. * * * *

Everytime I watch the John Hughes film, 'The Breakfast Club', the same question pops into my head at the end: what happens on Monday? The five students leave Saturday detention closer than they were when they entered, and that's the last we see of them.

Eight years ago, after Chloe and I got back together following a stupid misunderstanding that threatened our relationship, I found myself thinking the same thing: what happens next? I got the girl, the screen faded to black, and all the patrons left the theater happy. What happens after our passionate embrace in the last frame? (I really must stop with the movie metaphors.)

The answer seemed so obvious: we'd stay together until she went off to college, when we'd eventually drift apart. She would graduate, go to work in Metropolis for the Daily Planet, and then she'd probably end up marrying Clark Kent-our mutual best friend who had been madly in love with her for years. I'd mourn my loss for a while, but then I'd revert back to my original bachelorhood--hiring mistresses whenever I got lonely. It wasn't the life I'd wanted for myself, but it was the life of a Luthor. I didn't think I had much choice.

I wasn't looking forward to letting her go, but I knew it was inevitable. After all, I was twenty-one and had big plans: I was intending to take over as president of LuthorCorp when my father passed away, and try to straighten out the little town of Smallville.

We ended up breaking things off when she went away to school, though she attended Kansas State instead of Metropolis U. I asked her why, and she said she didn't want to follow Clark around for the rest of her life. That was the first indication that she and Farm Boy wouldn't ride off into the sunset together.

Lucky for me, my father's ailing health kept him from running the family business any longer. So, while Chloe was busy studying to become the greatest news reporter the world has ever known, I stepped to the forefront of the company.

Fast forward four years; Chloe graduated with honors and a journalism degree, and I was hard at work attempting to make the citizens of Smallville happy. I figured that I owed the town anyway; after all the crap my father put them through, the least I could do was give back a little of our fortune. I turned into Charitable Lex Luthor, and I was content.

Then, Chloe came home. I admit I was shocked when she was led into my office, her hair longer, her wardrobe trendier, her personality still as wonderful as ever; I was assuming that she would have already married Clark, and they'd be living in Metropolis, working for the Planet. Apparently, though, she hadn't seen Clark for years.

We started seeing each other occasionally, our old feelings still prevalent. After a month of casual dating, she announced that she had never stopped caring about me. Surprised as I was, I echoed the sentiment; she remains the only woman with whom I've ever been in love. As I told her that evening, she made me want to change the world for the better, made me want to leave business forever and become something harmless like an accountant.

Needless to say, the latter didn't happen. But, I did marry her exactly two months later. The day we wed, the moment we shared our first kiss as a married couple, my father's body gave out. He peacefully passed away in his sleep. Since then, I've thought that he couldn't handle the way I'd turned out, and my marrying for love--and not business advancement--was the last straw.

Chloe and I were in a state of bliss together. She moved into the Manor and decided to get a job at the Smallville Ledger. I knew she had been planning to work for the Daily Planet since she was old enough to write her name, so I inquired into her change of heart. She said that she didn't want to work with Clark, and she didn't want to be away from me any longer than she had to be. I was touched by both statements-they meant she was entirely over Clark, and she honestly loved me. I nearly broke the Luthor rule against crying and sobbed from happiness right then.

Lena came into our lives a little over a year after we married. She hadn't been planned, but we loved her all the same. It had been Chloe's idea to name her for my late sister, though I was greatly in favor of that decision.

Following her birth, I tried to convince Chloe to stay home; my father had left me the entire fortune--we were even richer than I thought we'd end up being, so she didn't have to work unless she really wanted to. That's not to say I'm fond of old-fashioned gender roles--they bother me much more than they did once, to be honest--I just didn't want our daughter ending up like me: abused and abandoned, shipped to boarding school, forced into business--I vowed that the Luthor cycle of child abuse would end with me.

Chloe had assured me that even if we both worked, we would still be there for Lena. It had been her idea yet again to hire Martha Kent to watch Lena during the day. Clark's widowed mother--rest in peace, Jonathan--had been more than happy to play nanny for us, since she said she still had to mother someone. She even got me to let-off most of our kitchen staff, and began cooking for us as well.

As for Clark himself, he married one of his co-workers at the Planet, a woman named Lois Lane. Lois had no idea that she was married to the man that saved Metropolis from certain doom almost weekly--he'd been dubbed Superman by the press; Chloe, Martha, and myself were the only three remaining people who knew about Clark's powers. He claimed that he would tell Lois eventually, but he didn't want to risk any government officials finding out about him. I'll get back to that in a minute.

Let's see, what happened to Clark and Chloe's old friends? Pete Ross is now VP of LuthorCorp. It was my idea to ask him to work for me, I'm pleased to say. He married Lana Lang--Clark's high school love interest--after apparently nursing a crush of his own for years. Lana doesn't work at the moment; she stays home with their children, a fact that doesn't entirely surprise me. She never struck me as the kind of woman who would go out and change the world, like Chloe.

To return to the subject of Clark's super-human abilities--I have to admit that I've developed a certain fascination with him. I promised myself that I wouldn't turn him over to the government, no matter how anxious I was to find out about him; he's a friend, after all, and I don't backstab friends. Still, I have taken it upon myself to study him. I've saved every news-clipping about every feat 'Superman' has performed. Chloe tells me I'm obsessed, but I vehemently deny that accusation. First and foremost, I'm a scientist, so who can blame me for wanting to find out about my alien friend?

I've been theorizing about him for the last eight years, ever since he confessed his Deep, Dark Secret. He came from the meteor shower--was that really twenty years ago?--but other than that, his origins were a mystery to himself and his adoptive parents. I've been running tests on the meteor fragments off-and-on, attempting vainly to determine from whence they came. No such luck so far, I'm afraid. I'm also aware that he's impervious to everything but the rocks; which explains why I didn't kill him when I accidentally ran him over the day we met.

Perhaps my, for lack of a better word, infatuation with him began that day. Perhaps not. All I know is that I always seem to be this close to discovering what causes him to be so different, and then I'll notice a calculation error, or my computer will freeze before I can save whatever theory I happen to be creating.

I was working on one such theory one evening when Chloe returned home. "Hello, Martha," my wife said cheerfully, kissing the woman's cheek and picking up our daughter, before striding into my office.

I stood up to greet her, forgetting to cover up the work I was writing by hand; she gets annoyed when she finds me hypothesizing about Clark, since she thinks what I do is one step away from dissecting him. She's probably right, but that doesn't stop me. "Hey, sweetie," I whispered, drawing her nearer for a long kiss.

Lena squealed happily, causing me to turn my attention to her. "Hi to you too, darling," I cooed, picking her up and swinging her over my head. If anyone had told me I'd become a father and enjoy it, I would've laughed them out of town. Now I can't remember what life had been like before Lena and Chloe changed everything.

Chloe walked to my desk and began rifling through my papers--always on the hunt for a story--reminding me that I haven't changed entirely. Her bright blue eyes hardened when she saw the sheet I'd been working on. "Lex," she began sternly, "we discussed this."

With a sigh, I rested my daughter against my hip and plucked the paper from my wife's fingers. I rested a hand against her cheek, smiling. "Sweetheart, I have to do something to keep myself busy. Besides, you're curious about Clark too, aren't you?"

She shrugged, dropping onto my leather desk chair which she'd once called pretentious. I noticed how tired she looked, though her eyes were bright. "I don't know. Sometimes I worry about you." Her voice was pleading as she continued. "You're going to drive yourself crazy eventually, what with all these theories and tests. I may be a reporter-and a fine one, if I say so myself-but I feel sleazy writing about Clark, as though he's some sort of strange curiosity. We knew him before, honey; we know him now."

I said nothing for a while, just watched her, wondering how I managed to get so lucky after all the stunts I pulled when I was younger. After a beat, I crumpled up my latest page of research and tossed it in my garbage can. "You're right. I should stop."

Her face softened, and she appeared to be stifling a squeal. "I have something to tell you."

I grinned in anticipation. The last time she'd looked that excited was when she'd found out that--it dawned on me. "You're not!" I exclaimed.

Chloe broke into a grin, nodding. "I am."

I glanced from her, to Lena, and back again. I then lifted Lena so she was eye-level with me. "You're going to have a sibling, Lena-dear. Isn't that wonderful?" I kissed her cheek and she giggled, a toothless smile forming on her adorable, little face.

After I set her on the floor, I picked my wife up in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. "I love you, Chloe," I whispered, gazing into her eyes.

She nestled against my chest, keeping an eye on our intrepid daughter who was sitting on the floor, staring at us. "I love you always, Lex." She kissed me quickly, just as Martha stuck her head in the room.

"Sorry to interrupt, but dinner's ready," she announced, her eyes twinkling. She obviously knew.

Chloe smiled, disentangling herself from my embrace. "Okay, thanks, Martha. You're welcome to stay."

The older woman shrugged. "I might, as long as Lex doesn't object."

I faced her, the grin still on my lips. "Martha, we've been over this: you can stay anytime, for as long as you want." We'd offered her a room at the beginning, begged her to live with us--we assumed she would get lonely on the farm by herself--but she said she didn't want to impose. She's spent a night or two in a guest suite we'd set up just for her, but she's refused to stay permanently.

Clark's mother nodded, then left without another word.

Chloe's hand entwined with mine, and she picked up Lena with her free arm. "Ready to eat?"

"Yeah," I replied, freeing myself from her grasp. "You go on ahead; I'll be there in two minutes."

Though she appeared confused, she simply nodded and left, whispering to our daughter as she walked toward the dining room.

I waited another moment before shutting the office door softly behind her. Darting back toward my desk, I yanked the wad of paper from the trash and smoothed it out on my desktop. * * Back