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by a.lakewood

It had been a long day in the office. And victorious. Lex had finally bought out his father's shares of LuthorCorp. Feeling a bit celebratory, he poured himself a glass of scotch and put on a CD. The opening notes of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture made him grin as he sank into his leather desk-chair.

He had his eyes closed, relishing the music, his mood, and his scotch, when, after a while, he heard the library door creak open. Left eye just a slit, he peered at his intruder, smiling at Clark who grinned back at him. He opened both eyes and sat up a bit in his chair about to greet his friend. As he opened his mouth to speak, the first cannon was fired, and Clark dropped to the floor.

Lex couldn't help the snorting laugh that ended up erupting from his mouth at the sight of Clark on the floor, hunched, hands covering his head. "We're not under attack," he managed. "Get up." He nudged Clark with the toe of one shoe.

Clark slowly stood, face red, small sheepish smile curling his lips. "Totally wasn't expecting that," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Obviously. Haven't you heard the 1812 Overture?"


"What are they teaching you in school? Other than how to duck and cover, I mean."

Clark leaned in, lips only a few centimeters away from Lex's when the second volley began, startling him once more. He laughed, burying his face in the crook of Lex's neck. "Why don't we take this `duck and cover' upstairs?"

"Best idea I've heard all day."