The Minutiae of Life as a Militant Squirrel

So yesterday --

*coughs*

Ahem. Yes, actually, I meant some weeks ago . . . thamiris said, "Write me porn."

And because I am a blindly obedient minion to the commands of the goddess er, uh . . . because I like to make my friendslist happy, I said, "Prompts . . . prompts are good. Prompts are our friends. Lengthy prompts are even better friends. SV or BtVS, please."

And Thamiris said:

Yay! Okay, how about some of your library porn, but with, say, Clark and Lex instead? Clark is working there as a student, and Lex comes in to do some research, asking for his help. Every wicked, dirty thing you can imagine will take place in the library between these two. People will be around. Lex will have trouble keeping Clark quiet.

Um, excuse me while I faint.

Sorry it took me so long. Hope it makes you faint!

( Clark/Lex pointless porn. I mean it! )

OMG WOOBIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can't Clark and Lex see that they are just meant to be forever? They are so my OTP.

And so woobie-licious! Oh, I just wanted to cuddle the two of them all better.

Sigh.

This is the first time I've ever promoted a challenge. Probably most people have already heard about it, but I thought it was too good to pass by.

Nerodi's Historical Clex Challenge

HAH!!!!

You know the llama in the Emperor's New Groove?

That's the noise I'm making right now.

And why, may you ask? Well you might.

Because . . . I've broken my writer's block.

Yes! Two straight weeks of numbness, now exploded like into nothingness!

Hmm. I become overly dramatic in my glee. Anyway . . . on with the story.

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Lex had never intended to become a terrorist.

It wasn't like "guerrilla warfare" had been a career option.

"Freedom fighter" had never been listed on any aptitude test that he recalled taking, back in the day when aptitude tests and urine tests and IQ tests were all that he remembered.

And yet, as he wandered through the caves that had become his domain, he sometimes wondered if it all had been inevitable from the beginning.

If this had been the only way it could end.

Footsteps behind him, and he tensed for a moment, but it was only Whitney, returning from recon. "Give me ten minutes, and call the Circle," Lex said simply, reading the tension and urgency in Whitney pinched features.

The former Smallville High School star quarterback nodded, and melted into the darkness.

Two other shapes followed him closely, features unrecognizable beneath the dust that camoflauged their features.

Lex nodded and the bigger shape saluted loosely. "Sir."

"It can wait," Lex said softly. "You two go wash up. Join us in ten minutes."

The man's head dipped briefly as he nodded. "Yes, sir."

Lex smiled as the two moved wearily away. He liked those men. They'd come from out of nowhere one night, using false names as so many did in these uncertain times.

They had the look of men who had seen too much and were nearly broken for it.

Lex had needed their military experience too desperately to question them closely.

He set them to fortifying the defenses, and if they tended to decorate the walls with crucifixes and strings of garlic . . . well, Lex wasn't in a position to be overly picky.

The big one was Finn. Some joker had tagged him with "MacCool", which fit with the man's rugged Irish appearance. Lex always smiled at that.

His shadow was known only as "Gray", and Lex never asked if he was mute by choice or by force.

The two communicated through a network of silent gestures and eye contact that reminded Lex of the secret language that all twins seemed to create between themselves.

No one in the camp was rude enough to comment upon the other sounds that sometimes issued from their sleeping place.

Frankly, Lex didn't care how anyone spent their evenings. He'd taken many of the rebels to his bed when it had become necessary.

Whitney had been one of the early ones.

Fresh from a tour of duty in Afghanistan, it had been he who'd struck upon the idea of basing their operations from the abandoned lead mines of Montana.

Lex chuckled. He'd often thought that he owed some thanks to bin Laden. But where would he start?

Card? Fruit basket?

Evisceration?

Whitney would do it in a second, if Lex asked it of him.

He'd do anything that Lex asked, after that first night in his bed.

Lex sighed and rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.

It had been Lana, of course, who had provoked things.

Jealousy could spur a man to do impossible things, insane things.

Lex would know.

He shook his head, pushing aside the random thoughts of Clark. He'd done what he had had to do, and it meant nothing.

Clark was dead to him, Whitney was sealed to him, and Lex had a rebellion to run.


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