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Clex, PG, humour. Very silly. Future-fic. Many thanks to fromward! *smooch*

Feedback would rock indeed.

*

Oh God, not another head injury.

The thought was familiar, too familiar, as Lex cracked open his eyelids and winced in pain. He closed his eyes again before forcing them back open, making himself adjust to the light.

Dr Vaughn was there, a distinct form at the side of his vision, so hopefully it wasn't actually a concussion this time. She shone a penlight right into his eye, which Lex considered really quite rude when his head was hurting like this. It was a good enough reason to kill her, but he never really got any further than doing that in self-defense.

Still, it might qualify.

Flicking off her light - thank God - she started asking the questions. Those were familiar, too.

"How do you feel?"

Lex shifted under the covers, but decided not to attempt sitting up yet. "Like someone threw me head first at a wall. Oh wait! They did." He had no lack of memory of that whatsoever.

"What's today's date?"

Presuming he actually hadn't been out overnight... "July 12th, 2014."

"Who's the President?"

He saw the tightness pulling at her mouth, the vague smile she was trying to hide. She was taunting him now, and there really weren't that many people who did that anymore. None, in fact.

Dr Vaughn was definitely getting a raise.

"I am."

*

Foolishly, Lex had assumed that once he became President of the United States his personal safety would no longer be an issue. Yes, he expected the occasional assassination attempt, but he was surrounded by - as far as he was concerned - the best people in the world to protect him.

Plus, he was far out of Smallville, completely out of Kansas, and far, far away from the meteor mutants who seemed to have taken a liking to using his head as a bowling ball while it was still attached to his body.

Fate, it seemed, had had other plans.

There was always something or other storming Capitol Hill and The White House, with some personal grudge against Lex just because he was the President. It seemed very unfair that they targeted him. America may have been a superpower, but he was far from being the ruler of the world (and he had definitely never imagined what the ceremony would be like if he ever was sworn in as The Supreme Ruler of Earth. Certainly not). How could he, the leader of one country, represent every single person on the globe? Over 6 billion people?

Somehow he was seen as the lone human wall keeping the people of Earth out of harm's way. Though that may or may not have been true, clearly the aliens, monsters and robots that kept attacking didn't have a brain cell between them. Well, the robots didn't at all, obviously.

But the point was that though they lacked brain cells, they had strength. Or sometimes laser beams. And in one particular case, a ray gun that dissolved clothing.

That had been an interesting Address to Congress.

His security staff took the brunt of it; that was their job after all, but he could tell they were growing increasingly concerned. When his Vice President and the Head of the Secret Service came to see him after the latest incident, Lex knew some new course of action was going to be laid before him.

It was the absolutely the last thing he expected.

"No."

"Mr President-"

"Absolutely not."

"Mr President, we-"

"There is absolutely no way I'm agreeing to this."

"We have to-"

Enough! "I am not letting Superman be my bodyguard!"

Really! Superman? For one thing he didn't particularly want to be associated with anyone who had that kind - or rather, complete lack - of fashion sense. For another, none of these bizarre attacks from space had really started until Superman had shown up, and Lex was deeply suspicious. And finally...it was Superman. Good God, Lex did not want to be protected by Earth's biggest Boy Scout. What would that do to his reputation?

Lex explained it all very reasonably to Pete and Ron, and was quite sure his argument would be persuasive - it made a great deal of sense to him, and they were both intelligent men. There was no reason why they shouldn't agree.

Except that, for some reason, they didn't seem to be listening to him. They nodded, and they said they understood, but Lex had the distinct feeling he was being patronised.

"Listen," Lex tried again. "He's Superman. He cannot devote himself to one man's protection. He's Superman." Why did they seem to be forgetting that fact? "There's always someone or something he should be off saving. He can't focus on one individual all the time; it's hardly fair." And he wasn't about to give that spandexed freak the satisfaction of saving his life.

"Those are valid concerns, Mr President," Ron said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Vice President in the Oval Office. "We're not suggesting that Superman protect you 24/7. Obviously he has other responsibilities, but in those times when he isn't busy elsewhere..."

"He can be protecting you," Pete finished, almost as if they'd been rehearsing it.

Lex eyed him suspiciously. "It won't. Work. And besides," Lex shifted in his chair behind the desk, and tried to look superior, "he'll never say yes."

*

Superman said yes.

Lex hadn't understood it at first. Publicly they hadn't had a great deal of interaction, but the times they'd met in private - usually due to a threat to the country - Lex had made it clear he didn't particularly care for the Man of Steel.

And that, Lex duly realised, was it. Superman knew Lex didn't like him, and that was precisely the reason why he'd agreed to protect him.

Well, fine. Superman could fly, and he had super vision. He could protect Lex from very far away. Where Lex wouldn't even have to see him.

*

Superman moved into The White House.

Lex was quite sure someone should have asked his permission beforehand. He only found out when insomnia drove him to a walk around the building one night and, hearing a shower running in what he knew to be an unoccupied guestroom, he investigated.

And saw Superman emerging from the bathroom.

Wet.

Wearing just a towel.

That had apparently only ever been intended for drying off a very small, very bald mouse.

"Mr President," Superman greeted when he saw him, not moving to pull his suit back on. "I'm sorry, did I wake you? There was a problem in a coal mine and...well, let's just say The White House wouldn't have been white for much longer." He grinned charmingly.

Lex hated him even more. Looked around the room. Saw the cape over the back of a chair, and several bottles of gel with a hair brush on the bedside table. "Are you..." It seemed incomprehensible. "...living here?"

Superman frowned. "Yes, Mr President. Four days now."

Four days. Superman had been living in The White House - Lex's home - for four days. And this was the first Lex had heard of it?

Lex didn't say another word; he went back to his room and immediately picked up the phone to wake up Ron. "I don't care if this is the most effective way! You were trying to hide this!"

"Mr President-"

"Ron, The White House may be big, but it's not that big. I would have seen him before now. It's not like he doesn't stand out. You were deliberately trying to hide him from me!" He exhaled heavily. "Which seems counter-productive given that he's supposed to be protecting me."

"So..." Ron began cautiously, which wasn't a tone Lex was used to hearing from the Head of the Secret Service. "It's not that he's staying there. It's that he's staying there and we didn't tell you?"

Damn. "Yes. No." Lex paused. "Shut up." And quickly hung up.

He hoped this wasn't a permanent loss of his previously excellent debating skills.

*

The first time Superman saved his life, it wasn't some glorious battle against an ancient evil overlord who'd come to show The President of the United States just who was in charge.

It was from a chicken bone. An ancient evil chicken bone that had viciously and maliciously lodged itself in Lex's throat, no doubt trying to show The President of the United States that he should stop eating innocent poultry.

Clutching at his throat, then the table, Lex had slipped from his chair and suddenly from nowhere Superman was there, his arms around Lex, performing the Heimlich manoeuvre.

The humiliation was terrible. Not only had Superman rescued him, but Superman had rescued him from a piece of dead chicken.

Still, not long after, as he lay on the sofa with his throat unobstructed and completely able to breathe, Lex wondered if the mouth-to-mouth Superman was still giving him was entirely necessary.

*

John was trying to get him to take a date to a function. Again. Lex has rallied on again and again, about how there wasn't anyone he wanted to take to the reception, even just for appearances. He'd much rather go by himself than with a carefully selected woman he'd never met, despite how well acquainted the CIA was with her personal history. Lex knew things about her that she probably didn't even know herself.

That made him even less interested.

"John..."

His Chief of Staff wouldn't let up. "You have to take someone, Mr President. Being the youngest President in history is one thing. Not being married is another. It's starting to have an effect on the numbers."

Lex apparently had more confidence in the voters. "They knew I wasn't married when they elected me."

"Yes," John nodded. "But you were also seeing Rebecca at the time. Since you're not anymore..."

The people were going to abandon him simply because he wasn't dating anyone? How archaic was that? "I refuse to go with a CIA-hired date."

"Of course, Mr President."

"I can find my own date."

"Certainly, Mr President."

Lex squinted at him. "I'm taking Superman."

John nodded. "He's waiting outside."

Hmm.

Although he'd apparently known the invite was coming, Superman was doubtful. "I don't think I can go, Mr President."

"Why not? You're going to be there anyway, hiding. I'll feel you watching me all night, so rather than just be irritating you might as well be useful, too. Plus, with Superman there it'll reassure the Tzar-"

"Exactly my point," Superman interrupted, moving to stand at the other side of the desk. "Look, I don't have a problem with protecting you - obviously, or I wouldn't be here. But I can't appear to be endorsing you. Superman can't get involved with that side of politics. There's a reason it's not public knowledge that I'm staying here."

He had a good point, damn him, but Lex really didn't want to attend with that woman. "What about a disguise?"

"Disguise?"

"Yes," Lex stood up, slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants as he wandered around the table, pausing a few steps away from Superman. "Take that gel out of your hair. Get you into a suit that actually looks like it was made on Earth. I bet no one would even recognise you."

Superman looked afraid. Superman actually looked afraid. "Okay, Mr President."

Lex had never heard Superman's voice break before.

"And for God's sake, will you call me by my first name?"

No one did that anymore. And it was the first thing Lex asked for that Superman complied with without hesitation.

*

In retrospect, Lex wished he could say that he had secretly known all along. That somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew the truth and was just avoiding it. That he knew, and was just hurt that Clark had never been able to tell him.

But he doesn't think any of that is true.

"Superman," he said, when Superman walked into the room; hair free from gel, thick-rimmed glasses covering his eyes, dinner suit just a little too big for his frame. "In that get up you look remarkably like Clark Kent."

Apparently the truth didn't need to be hidden anymore. "Imagine that," Clark said, gesturing towards the door. "Age before beauty."

Lex paused. "Aliens before humans."

Clark sighed. Took a few stumbling steps towards Lex.

Kissed him.

Lex was very, very confused, and was only really certain of two things:

One, he wanted to do some more of that kissing thing with Superman in disguse, and two, the next time he saw Pete, Ron or John - and especially Pete - he was having them all killed.

Or something.

~FINIS

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