Title: The Ride
Series: Finding Home. Fourth in series.
Author: Christie
Email: tinamishi@yahoo.com
Archive: http://number14.org/precious
Genre: Smallville (Lex/Lana); established relationship, drama, angst
Rating: R (sexual situations, strong language)
Spoilers: General S1 & S2 (nothing overt)
Summary: Is Smallville ready for Lex and Lana? Are Lex and Lana ready
for each other?  Series sequel to Close Quarters.   
Disclaimer: Smallville was created by Millar & Gough.  This story is
non-profit.
Distribution: If you've got Close Quarters, by all means take this.

*

Long rides that took the day to dusk to nightfall were what Lana
enjoyed best.  It didn't matter if it was frigid or sweltering or
anywhere in between; when it came to riding, the longer the better.

She felt lucky to finally ride with someone who could keep up.  Lex not
only pushed his horse to match hers pace for pace, but never complained
once, even as the hours ticked by.

When they finally reached the stables and dismounted their exhausted
horses, Lana's legs were rubbery with exertion but her entire body felt
energized and alive.  Lex's cheeks were flushed pink in the dim light
of the stable eaves and Lana couldn't keep from putting her palms
against them before tipping her head up to kiss him, long and hard and
open-mouthed.

When she pulled away, she felt Lex's breath against her cheek and his
eyes were heavy lidded.  "What was that for?"

Lana shrugged, unable to keep a grin from splitting her face.  Her
entire body thrummed with energy.  "I don't know," she said, slipping
her arms around his waist as they walked into the stable.  "That was a
good ride, I feel energized."  They stopped under the small circle of
dim light among empty corrals.  She put her head against the soft
cotton of his shirt.  "Thanks for doing it with me."

She felt the vibration through his chest as Lex chuckled low in his
throat.  His hands moved up to stroke her back.  "If that's the thank
you I get every time I ride with you then I'll pencil you in every
afternoon around four."

Lana pulled back and looked up into his eyes.  His expression must
mirror her own, she thought.  Every problem that had hovered so close
yesterday was now a million miles away.  Nothing existed outside of
McCormick's Stables and Boarding, nothing but the moon almost full in
the sky and Lex himself, gazing down at her with such an intensity Lana
feared she might melt.

"Lex…" she began, but her mind shut down and whatever she was about to
say as swallowed as Lex covered her mouth with his own.

He had a million different kisses in his repartee, but this was by far
Lana's favorite.  It was deep and sensual, his lips soft, tongue
pliant, everything poured into it from somewhere deep inside. The kiss
came from a place, Lana imagined, Lex wasn't even aware of himself; a
place so buried by years of Lionel's emotionless parenting that Lex
believed it was long gone.

But it wasn't, Lana knew, because he poured it into this one particular
kiss, the one that made her heart hammer and her toes curl.

The other good thing about this particular kiss was that it went on
forever.  Simple essentials like breath were quickly forgotten; this
was so much more important, so much more vital.

She was panting when they pulled apart and nearly cursed aloud her need
for air.  She was only half surprised to find her coat and gloves on
the ground, and Lex's warm fingertips splayed underneath her shirt
against her bare back.  Lex was crafty that way.  Lana only leaned up
for another kiss, suddenly feeling a very desperate and very real need
to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Lex's coat slid off easily at her prodding and his fingers slipped back
into the warmth under her shirt before she even had a chance to realize
their absence.  He touched her gently and expertly, in places that made
her groan and others that made her giggle and all the places in
between.  When he unhooked the clasp of her bra and slipped a hand
inside, she felt weightless, and her body instinctively arched to him.

Her fingers shook as she opened each button on his shirt and unfastened
the buckle of his belt.  She couldn't help but wonder at the way she
was suddenly throbbing in places he hadn't yet touched.

When his shirt fell to the hay at their feet and she ventured a hand
below his waist, he groaned and covered her mouth with his.  And when
her shirt joined his and her bra landed atop it in a messy heap of
expensive and not-so-expensive clothes, he guided them both down to
kneeling and took her breast into his mouth.

And she about died.  Because it felt.  So.  Good.  And everywhere ached
for him, not just her breasts but her belly and below that too.  She
wanted him in all those places at once, and -- GOD -- nothing was going
to stop her from this.

But he stopped and looked up, eyes glassy but earnest.  She expected
him to ask her if she wanted to stop, or say something noble like 'we
don't have to do this'.  She did not expect him to grind out her name,
in a growl so primitive it nearly made her fall over.  She did not
expect his fingers to tighten where he was holding her at the waist,
enough pressure that she almost winced, and say, "I need you."

Most of all, she did not expect herself to respond; to haul him up
against her so that they were pressed together as completely as two
bodies could be.  She kissed him with nothing short of every passion
she had inside of her and felt a haze fill her brain from bottom to
very top.

She knew she could stop him; knew he'd be expecting a sudden 'I can't
do this' and its subsequent apology.  Knew she still hadn't reached the
point of no return.

Except that she had, in her own mind, and she needed Lex as much as he
needed her.  Now.  Tonight.  So she let him spread his coat out on top
of the hay and let him lay her back onto it.  She closed her eyes as
Lex covered her body with his and let her whole wide world continue to
fall away.

*

Lana smelled like jasmine and rain, even in the middle of a barn.  One
of the things that fascinated Lex most about women was their ability to
smell good constantly.  And every woman had a smell.  His mom had
smelled like Chanel No. 5.  The first girl he'd ever slept with had
smelled like strawberry lip balm.  Victoria always smelled like
coconuts.  Lana was night-blooming jasmine and rain.

Lex didn't know why, it just happened that way.

He'd been surrounded by it all night.  Even when she gasped softly in
wonder as he explored her with his tongue; even when she bravely tried
to hold back tears but still bit his shoulder, hard, because it hurt
like hell when he entered her.  Through it all, on his coat in the
stable, she smelled like jasmine and rain.

Lex had not intended Lana's first time to be in a barn.  Scenarios he'd
played out in his head varied; sometimes it was his bed, sometimes
hers, sometimes on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.  But
never at McCormick's Stables and Boarding, never on top of baled hay,
beneath a single 40-watt light bulb, with horses snuffing outside to
remind them that it was damn cold.

He didn't imagine having to get up afterwards, like high school kids
who did it in the car and then had to clean themselves up and drive
home.  He didn't get to hold her or fall asleep with her or tell her he
loved her.

He didn't get to think, fuck you, Clark, I won't hurt her and I do love
her and I will not screw this up.  He was too busy rousing her, and
getting dressed, and leading the horses to their stalls.

No, it wasn't supposed to be like that at all.

Once in the car, he kept the radio silent.  She leaned across the
gearshift to lay her head on his shoulder, but didn't speak.  When he
wasn't shifting gears, his hand was on her knee and he breathed against
her hair deeply -- jasmine and rain -- and headed toward home.

It was on the tip of his tongue -- I love you, Lana -- but he didn't
say it.  Once, at a red light, he dropped a kiss on the top of her
head.  But he hated the silence.  He felt like an asshole.

McCormick's Stables and Boarding was about 35 miles south of
Smallville.  Lana fell asleep at mile marker 7, and by mile marker 9
had retreated completely, curled into a ball in her bucket seat, buried
beneath his coat.

The coat he'd made her lay on while he took her virginity, he thought
bitterly.  He might as well be the quarterback for all the class and
sophistication he'd displayed tonight.

It was drizzling by the time they reentered Smallville proper.  Lex cut
his speed fractionally and turned the radio on low.  He looked over at
Lana but she only pushed a breath out on her lips and slept on.  Lex
accelerated.  He just wanted to get the hell home.

In hindsight, Lex realized that it would have made more sense if he was
fiddling with the radio, or looking over at Lana, or doing *something*
other than paying attention when the oncoming car swerved into his
lane.  He should have seen it, but just…didn't.  At least, not until it
was barreling down on him and looked like a yawning mouth of bright
light rather than a Ford F-250.

Impact was a sickening crunch and deafening screech of metal on metal. 
The Porsche rolled once, maybe twice before sliding off the road and
into a ditch.  Lex counted four long beats after the car stopped moving
before opening his eyes.  His dash was still lit, the radio played
softly on as if nothing had happened.  But there was smoke pouring from
his hood and Lana was deathly silent and still next to him.

"Lana.  LANA!"

Even to his own ears, Lex's panicked cry sounded amplified in the eerie
silence.  He wrestled himself out of his seatbelt and grabbed for her. 
She looked as though she was still peacefully sleeping except for the
dirt smudging her face and the thin trickle of blood emerging from her
temple.

Lex felt his entire body go rigid and he had to force himself to keep
moving.  He had to think.  He had to fucking *do something*.  The door
on his side wouldn't open.  When he leaned over Lana to try hers, he
felt her breath on his cheek.  He paused, stroking her hair back from
her rapidly bloodying forehead.  

"Hang in there, baby."

The passenger door swung open at Lex's insistence and he crawled out. 
He was hyper aware of his shallow breathing and the way his chest ached
and his ribs seemed to crackle with each inhale.  But it was all
secondary to getting Lana out of the car and to a hospital.

"Are you alright?"  

The voice from the road startled Lex so badly that he bumped his head
against the doorframe.  He cursed again -- loudly -- and was about to
tell the idiot to call 911 when the voice floated out of the darkness
again.

"Hey, are you Lex Luthor?"

Fuck you, asshole, Lex wanted to shout back.  Instead, he reached into
the car and released Lana's seatbelt.  As carefully as he could, he
gathered her into his arms, wincing under the strain.  Something was
definitely wrong with his chest, because the spot where he cradled her
against him burned like a volcano erupting inside.

"Call 911!" he yelled up, then added, "and get your ass down here and
help me!"

Lex walked as far as he could down the embankment and away from his
car.  It wasn't on fire, but the smoke pouring out of it was making him
choke.  When he was sure he couldn't take another step, he stopped and
knelt, keeping Lana as close to him as possible.  

He wanted her to wake up, to smile and tell him she was alright.  But
his father's harsh lessons of childhood stayed with him: we don't
always get what we want, Lex.  In fact, we seldom do.  The successful
are separated from the rest by what they do with what they get.  

Lana stayed still and silent and the blood at her temple had turned
from a trickle to a gush.  Desperately, Lex pressed his sleeve there
and waited.  When he heard the distant wail of sirens, he breathed
heavily outward and dipped his face to hers.  The warm breath he felt
on his cheek was the only thing keeping him sane.

"You're going to be fine," he said, unsure if he was trying to convince
her or himself.  A flashlight cut a swath in the darkness, first over
his car then down the ditch to him.  He dipped his head deeper into
hers against the glare.

Amid the stench of mud and car exhaust and burning rubber, Lex breathed
in deeply.  It hurt like hell but it didn't matter because he needed to
smell it: jasmine and rain.

-end-
27 Dec 2002
Continued in Finding Home V: The Unknown.

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