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A Means to an End	By : trekkie89 Category: Smallville > General Views: 1471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no ownership of Smallville or it's characters and make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Means to an End
- 2-2
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You have to gather your things, so Lex goes to wait outside. You grab your book and wallet from the table and head for the door. Glancing back at Lana, you can see her talking fervently to her coworkers. In fact, the whole place seems to be rather lively with chatter. Apparently Lex doesn’t do this sort of thing often. Or perhaps he does, and that would explain the knowing looks of the women in the Talon as they all watch you leave.
     Is this a terrible decision? You exhale a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you step outside into the inexorable heat and humidity. The air is heavy with moisture and you don’t like the look of the gray clouds looming over everything.
     You scan the half-empty parking lot for Lex and expect to see a Ferrari or a corvette or some other expensive car that you could never in a million years hope to afford. No doubt a car so luxurious that were you even to look at it you would find yourself in a mountain of financial debt.
     As you wait for him to pull around or find his keys or do whatever rich people do when they’re supposed to be giving you a ride home, a loud engine revs nearby. It’s annoyingly loud and breaks your stream of thoughts about the look on Lana’s face as she watched you leave. You wonder how long it will take for everyone to hear about this incident. If you know Lana as well as you think you do, she’s already sent out a mass text explicitly detailing the whole thing.
     That damn engine is getting louder and you start to look for where the noise is coming from. It’s coming around the corner into your view and you realize it must be Lex’s expensive sports car making all the fuss.
     I bet he has a vanity plate that says something ridiculous with a lot of X’s or something.
     Lex pulls up to right in front of you and your breath leaves your chest momentarily. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he’s wearing a black helmet as he straddles a shiny, expensive-looking all black motorcycle. Once again you find yourself staring in awe, equal parts stunned and excited. The sight of him in that business man outfit with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up is hysterical to you; this is supposed to be the thorn in Smallville’s side, this guy in a purple shirt on a motorcycle? He looks more like a rockstar or a model than a genius businessman or an evil billionaire. You’re also flooded with a full realization of how good he looks on that bike. Strange anticipatory butterflies seem to be fluttering around in your stomach all of a sudden. You try to show no signs of it, but your face feels flushed.
     He turns his gaze on you and you can’t help the rush of adrenaline you feel. It’s an incredibly nice motorcycle, but it’s a foreign make with a powerful engine and a sporty look to it. Not a Harley by any means. It’s clearly built for speed and power, not comfortability. You can’t imagine it being able to comfortably seat two adults. Still, you have to admit he’s quite a sight for sore eyes. No woman in their right mind would turn down this offer. Yet here you stand, contemplating backing out.
     That fucker tricked me! At no point during our delegations were motorcycles mentioned. Let alone crazy Japanese crotch-rocket motorcycles from hell!
     You were sheepish about getting in a car with this stranger, a car! An enclosed vehicle with seatbelts and airbags and God knows what else in one of those million dollar things! This is something completely different. You’ve been on one before, but not like this and not with someone you just met.
     Lex removes his helmet momentarily and hands you a second helmet, also black, and you take it without even trying to conceal your uncertainty. The letters “L.L.” are printed on the back in silver. A modern, chic minimalist font. Jesus, even the guy’s font looks expensive.
     “Have you done this before?” he calls over the loud engine.
     You stare at him. Yeah, I hitchhike to the library on luxurious motorcycles every day.
     “Once or twice,…” Your answer is hesitant, but Lex seems to assume your acceptance of his offer still stands.
     “Then you have nothing to worry about,” he says with a smile.
     Your nervousness abates slightly and is momentarily replaced with anxiousness. His smile is just so… cocky.
     Why are you thinking girly thoughts right now?? Now is not the time for this… now is the time to make good life decisions that don’t involve motorcycles! That smile is not worth your life.
     “Uh, hey,” you slowly say, “I wasn’t aware of some crucial information when I accepted that ride offer… I’m thinking maybe this is too much trouble, I’m fine to walk, really.”
     Lex revs the engine again as it idols and you flinch at the noise. It’s so damn loud, you’re not even sure he heard everything you said.
     “I must admit, I’d almost forgotten I took the bike today,” he says modestly.
     Bull-SHIT. How do you forget riding a motorcycle when you insist upon driving someone somewhere? He’s lying!
     You try to be irritated, but the idea that he omitted this information in an effort to elicit your acceptance of his offer is very intriguing. Why is he suddenly so interested in you? You’ve spent all this time in Smallville hanging around the same crowd and have never even bothered to formally meet, so why now?
     “But I give you my word it’s completely safe,” he continues. “Safer, even, than a car, some say.”
You furrow your eyebrows instinctively.
“Actually, no one says that, I just thought it might help you feel better,” he says playfully.
You can’t help but laugh at his attempt.
You level with him and look into his eyes.
“Mr. Luthor, It’s just that… I don’t even know you,” you say honestly.
“You don’t have to know me to indulge in a free offer of transportation in shitty weather,” he reasons. “You just have to know I’m trustworthy. And there’s no one more trustworthy than a celebrity. With every news station and newspaper in the state chasing me for a story, I barely have time to run my father’s business, and definitely no time to kidnap strange acquaintances with similar music interests and poor taste in coffee. And please, call me Lex.”
You’re totally speechless. He’s toying with you, technically insulting you, but his delivery is so witty you almost don’t care. You tell yourself he probably does this all the time. He probably took one look at you and immediately guessed all the right things to say to get you to accept his offer. It doesn’t mean anything, you’re probably just another conquest he’s targeted out of sheer boredom. Hell, it’s probably not even that, if he’s as conniving as everyone has led you to believe. It surely has to do with Chloe or Clark, or both. Yet even as you’re putting your guard up, you want to believe this influential stranger is just interested in you for the sake of you.
After a brief pause, you take a deep breath and put the helmet on. He fits his back over his head as well.
He’s testing you and however stupid it may be you just can’t refuse the test. You grab onto the bike to pull yourself up behind him. If all he wants is to give you a ride, and nothing more, he deserves it after all that clever banter. He sold you on his wittiness alone, no need to bother with the good looks and amazingly hot bike (though neither one exactly hurt his cause).
The bike is high off the ground and you struggle to get up onto the “seat.” Lex turns and helps you up, giving you a gentle but sturdy pull with one arm. How he manages to do this while still holding the bike steady and idling, you have no idea. He seems to make everything look infinitely easier and cooler than it actually is. When he pulls you up you get a brief glimpse of a tattoo on his forearm. It’s largely concealed by his half rolled up sleeve, but it’s definitely there. You’re surprised someone like him has a tattoo and wonder what the image is. Also not far from your mind is the feeling of his hand as he grabbed your wrist. The bike seat is practically non-existent behind him and tilts significantly forward so you’re pulled flush against him. It’s a very awkward situation but no part of you is adverse to it. His back feels like all muscle and you smell his amazing cologne again.
Again, really not time for girly fantasy thoughts!
“You want to hold onto me.” Lex’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts with a jolt.
“I’m sorry… what?” you stammer out, confused by the arrogance of his statement.
Lex’s helmet turns toward you slightly.
“I thought you said you’d done this before?” he says playfully. “You’re going to want to hang on to me, anywhere from waist to chest-height is fine.”
Wow, of course that’s what he meant… Jesus, I’m not on my A game, am I.
You’re definitely a little embarrassed you thought he was coming onto you, but if he did notice he’s certainly not letting on. Who knows if he even heard you over the noise of the engine.
Hesitantly you wrap your arms gingerly around his waist. It’s strange but you hadn’t really accounted for the need to cling onto him when you agreed to getting a ride. Either way, an attractive billionaire is having you cling onto his toned body while he gives you a ride on his sleek sexy motorcycle. You’re proud of yourself for not openly fawning over the whole situation. You remind yourself it’s a little too good to be true, and it quiets your nerves.
There are a few people gathered outside the Talon, and they’re not even pretending they aren’t trying to get an eyeful of you and Lex. Vaguely you wonder how fast this sort of thing will spread. You hadn’t really accounted for that. This whole thing is turning into a bit of a mess. You begin to wish you hadn’t been so quick to say yes to Lex. And you have a feeling it’s not the first time a woman has had that vexing realization about the youngest Luthor.
Lex is checking something on the gauges of the bike and a crazy idea strikes you. You pull out your phone, hold it up on the camera setting and quickly take a picture of yourself on the bike. You send the picture to Chloe and Clark and type underneath it ‘I thought the Luthors were supposed to be scary, not a friendly neighborhood taxi service?’ They’ll be a little surprised, but you were going to tell them anyways and they’ll most likely be amused by the nonchalance of the text. If Lana hadn’t just witnessed the incident inside, you’d probably be sending her the text too. You feel semi-guilty for being so irritated by her lately. She means well, and she’s never done anything to purposely hurt you.yh
     You put your phone away just as Lex starts moving the bike. You pull out of the parking spot and through the parking lot of the Talon with ease. He’s clearly had many passengers in the past. You’re willing to bet they were all female.
     You pull out onto the open road and Lex gains speed rather too quickly for your taste. You have to hang on tighter than you thought in order to keep from lurching forward and back as the engine accelerates. Still, despite the speed and the discomfort, it’s not too bad and will be over shortly. And then you can try to forget this weirdness and whatever agenda surely occupies Lex’s mind.
     It’s clouded up significantly since you were at the Talon, and suddenly you feel light rain drops falling.
     This can’t be good.
     Sure enough, the rain drops get heavier and begin falling faster and faster until finally it breaks into a total downpour. You’re soaking wet within two minutes, and Lex is also soaked. Luckily it’s warm and humid out, but with the rush of wind and heavy rain against you it’s still pretty jarring.
     Lex continues to drive fast, and you’re starting to freak out a little. The roads are shiny, reflective surfaces, beautiful but also terrifying from the standpoint of being on the back of a stranger’s bike. Within a few minutes you reach the entrance to the long winding driveway of the Luthor mansion. You’ve never felt such relief from seeing the tall, lavish castle. You’ve only ever been inside it once for a tour for school, surely a move calculated by the Luthors in an effort to help their image in Smallville.
     You reach the main entrance and Lex slows the bike to a halt. The downpour is so heavy and loud you can barely make out his figure or his voice, but you sense that you should climb off of the bike so that he can do what he needs to do. You slide down off the bike with less grace than you would have preferred, and Lex rides it into a side door that appears to be some kind of garage. You fiddle with your helmet until it comes off and your hair is totally soaked within seconds. He returns a moment later without the bike or the helmet and grabs your arm, leading you quickly up the stairs to the main door. He types in some kind of security code on a panel and the huge wooden door clicks open. Even in the chaos of the downpour you find intrigue in the discord between the old classical wood and stonework of the castle and the mechanization of the security panel and automatic doors. You both rush inside quickly and he closes the door with a click behind you.
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A Means to an End