Fic: Oh, Baby
Jun. 1st, 2007 06:35 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
myownghost.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
old_school_clexTitle: Oh, Baby
Author: myownghost
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
With thanks: to the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
acampbell for the discerning beta-reading <3
Summary: Lex gives Clark his first computer, IMs ensue
“Oh, Mom,” Clark whined, a pained look on his handsome face. “I need a computer this year! It’s getting to be too much hassle waiting for a turn on yours when I have an assignment to do!”
Martha Kent’s lips were set in the harsh line that finances tended to bring out on her face. With a sigh, she waved a fistful of papers at her son, like evidence before a jury. “You know how our budget is running, Clark. I can’t just free up a thousand dollars because you want to browse the internet up in your room. You know we have to compromise to make ends meet.”
Clark threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table, his back to the small side table where Martha’s computer was set up. “Yeah, I know. I don’t mean to be so demanding about this. But some of my classes now require nightly computer time.” His sigh echoed hers. “Sorry, Mom.” He laid his head down on his arms, overcome by the sense of tragedy that comes so naturally to a 15-year-old.
Martha moved to stand behind him, running her hand over his hair, smoothing down a cowlick that delighted her heart. “Maybe one of these days, sweetheart. We can hope that this fall’s crop brings in enough for the computer.” She smiled, seeing the tension in his shoulders relax as she continued to pet him.
He turned his head to the side and looked up at her with one bright eye. “Yeah, I’ll be hoping for that.” His lips curved into an answering smile. Then he sat up straight, squaring his shoulders. “OK, can I have your computer for a while? I have an English essay to write.”
“Sure. But I’ll have to run some spreadsheets later on this evening. Let me know when you’re done.” Martha gave his head one last pat before leaving the room.
Clark looked after her, the smile fading. Another sigh wracked his body. He shook his head and muttered, “Maybe what I need to do is talk to Lex about a loan.”
***
Later that evening, Clark lay on his bed, telephone in hand as he grinned at the ceiling. “Oh, Lex, not another femme fatale! Haven’t you had enough of those yet?”
The voice on the other end of the line chuckled darkly. “Apparently not. It would seem I have a fatal attraction to that kind of woman, and they seek me out like a bear goes for honey. It's some kind of fate.”
The grin fell off Clark’s face. “Time was, you talked about a different kind of fate.” He stopped and frowned. “Lex, I worry about you sometimes. You deserve someone better than these women who don’t treat you right.”
“Ah, well, perhaps. But I think you’re worrying prematurely about Lydia. She hasn’t sold me out or tried to set me on fire yet. Give her a chance before consigning her to the dunghill of my history, will you?”
Clark hummed into the receiver. “Well, OK, since you ask so nice. Oh, listen, I wanted to talk to you about something I need.”
Lex’s indrawn breath was barely audible, but Clark did hear it, as he heard most everything. He added it to the list of little tells that Lex gave without knowing he did. One of these days Clark figured he’d put together the story that they spelled out. For now, though, he had other aims.
“What do you need, Clark?” Lex’s voice had deepened a shade. “You know I’ll do anything for you that I can.”
Clark paused for a moment, feeling a flutter in his pulse, not for the first time in talking to his friend. He’d noticed this early on in their acquaintance, knew it for something that only happened with Lex. Well, at times with girls -- with Lana and, to a lesser extent, with Chloe. But with Lex? It happened often, and he knew to keep it a secret. Whom could he tell about it, anyway?
“I’ve been talking to Mom about needing a computer of my own. We can’t afford it, as I predicted. But I need one for school!”
Lex laughed. “And for chatting up the girls on YIM? And doing ‘research’ into the sexual habits of the modern American high school student? Come on, Clark, be honest.”
His affront only half an act, Clark huffed, “No, seriously, Lex. Teachers expect us to have access now! I have to kick Mom off when I have a paper to write or reading to do, like for social studies. And it’s hard getting Dad off once he gets into his solitaire game.”
A devilish cackle greeted that last sentence. “I can just see Jonathan Kent too intent on a virtual card game to take care of his cows. Say, maybe that explains why you’ve become such a cowboy yourself.”
“Aw, you know he doesn’t neglect his cows, and I don’t mind taking care of them anyway. But really, I end up acting like a bratty kid, stomping my foot to get time online, and it sucks, Lex.” An even more audible indrawn breath stopped Clark cold for a moment.
Lex’s voice dropped lower and was a bit hushed. “So what were you going to ask me to do about this? Float you a loan? I could probably find a PC at work that’s ready to be put to pasture. It wouldn’t be state-of-the-art, but it’d be better than having to get in line and compete with your mother’s spreadsheets and your father’s solitaire.”
Clark all but sprang up off the bed. “Could you, Lex? Could you find one for me? That’d be so cool!”
“Consider it found. Good night, Clark. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.” It sounded like Lex was smiling.
“Good night, Lex.” Clark definitely was. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Lex laughed. “Oh, baby, everyone tells me that.” He rang off.
Clark sat staring at the phone, his mouth slightly ajar. After a moment of silence, he echoed, “Oh, baby?”
***
It took Lex fewer than twenty-four hours to come up with a perfectly serviceable PC for Clark’s use. He brought it by the farmhouse after work and knocked on the front door. When Clark opened to him, he smiled and swept his hands toward his Maserati, for all the world like Vanna White. “Your computer awaits!”
Clattering down the steps with a whoop and a “Thanks, Lex!,” Clark leaned into the trunk and lifted the heavy monitor out as if it weighed nothing, too excited to pretend to be burdened by it. The smile on Lex’s face deepened into visible fondness as he asked, “Where are your parents, Clark?”
“They were going to have dinner in town, they said. I heated something up in the microwave for myself. Hey, you grab the keyboard, and we can go set this up in my room. Is it already loaded with Windows and stuff?” Clark was fairly bouncing like Tigger toward the house and then up the stairs.
“Ready to go. You have only to set up Outlook for your own purposes and download a chat utility. You already know my YIM name. I’ll be checking in on you to make sure you’re being good, Elliott.” Lex stood watching, still with that soft smile, as Clark plugged in the PC and started booting it up and hooking the modem into the phone jack.
When it was up and running, Clark turned to Lex and grabbed him into a warm hug. “I mean it, Lex – you’re the best friend a guy could have.”
Lex’s eyes lost focus and his hands reflexively closed on fistfuls of flannel. He sniffed delicately at the dark hair pressed against his face. “I’m just being the friend you deserve.” A moment’s silence passed before he pried himself away. “And now I’ll leave you to get yourself online and cooking.”
Clark bounced again, as if on springs. “Thanks again. I’ll IM you later on, OK? And tell you all about how great it is to be wired here in my own room.” His grin was luminous.
Lex gazed at him as if basking in bright sunlight. “It’s a deal. For now, I’ll just see myself out.” Clark’s attention was already entirely on the computer. Lex shook his head in amusement as he closed the door behind himself.
***
Around 10:00 p.m., Lex was online, with YIM open, simultaneously working on an important document and frequently checking his buddy list. His mouth twisted in a kind of chagrin each time, as the word ‘buddy’ mocked him with its youthful silliness. There was only one name on the list, and he’d have been alerted at once if JerseyCowboy logged on, but he kept checking anyway.
At last there was a muted “moo” that let him know his buddy had logged on and was ready to chat. At once, BrainTrust sent to JerseyCowboy: Where have you been?
JC: I had a huge, flaming argument with my dad about this computer. It took hours for Mom and me to make him see reason.
BT: I’m sorry, Clark. I should’ve made sure to clear it with Jonathan before bringing it to you.
JC: No, Lex, I should’ve. But Mom finally got through to him about schoolwork and research, plus the fact that this is a used PC.
JC: He was grumbling still when I came upstairs, but Mom had the situation in hand.
BT: *cackles* You don’t want to know what mental images that sentence called up.
JC: NO, no I don’t. Jeez, Lex, spare me!
BT: Sorry, Clark. Forget it. Chalk it up to my twisted sense of the perverse.
JC: Are you calling my parents perverse?
BT: No, but my bringing it up to you was. Did you get your homework done?
JC: Just about. I need to polish up some essay questions, and then I’ll go to bed.
BT: Are you already dressed for bed?
JC: Am I… What kind of question is that?
BT: Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t the youth of America ask each other what they’re wearing when they chat?
JC: YEAH, Lex, the boys and the girls!
BT: Oh, well, consider this practice for chatting with the girls. What are you wearing?
JC: *looks down in bemusement* An old Crows tee-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
BT: Plaid?
JC: At one time. Faded and bled now into a kind of soft… Wait a minute. This isn’t you being perverse again, is it?
BT: Moi? Maybe, depends on your p.o.v. Listen, I ought to let you git along, little dogie. Yippie ti yi yo, and all that.
JC: You are such a moron.
BT: I can take that PC back, you know.
JC: Kidding, just kidding. I know you’re a scientific genius and king of the crap factory. *bows down to BrainTrust*
BT: More like it. Talk to you later, Cowboy. Don’t forget to douse the campfire.
JC: Night, pardner.
***
Within a week’s time, Clark found that his nightly chat with Lex was the best part of each day. Lex always asked what he was wearing, and he had begun asking the same question in return. It made Clark laugh, but he wasn’t sure Lex was laughing on the other end of the modem.
On a Friday night in late fall, they began as usual.
BT: hell of a day, jc. how’s by you?
JC: What’s with the no-caps? You going e.e. cummings on me?
BT: ha very ha. no, i typed so much my hands are worn out.
JC: Don’t you have peons you can have type for you?
BT: think about what you’re saying, jersey boy. any self-respecting administrative assistant these days would tell me to type it myself.
JC: *snorts Pepsi up his nose* I can't see any of your hirelings saying that to you.
BT: mind the keyboard there, cowpoke. i don’t have another spare just lying around the factory.
JC: I’m being careful. What are you wearing, genius?
BT: ooh, i like a man who’s direct. violet jammie bottoms and a pale cream silk tank top. what about you?
JC: A leather vest, chaps over jeans, a six-gun in a low-slung holster, and a ten-gallon hat.
BT: wtf?
JC: Just getting into the part. Actually, all I have on is boxers with Spongebob on them. Indian summer, you know.
BT: oh, baby. spongebob makes me hot, and you know it.
JC: *blinks* “oh, baby”? That’s the second time you’ve said that to me lately. Am I the cowboy in this friendship, or am I Dale Evans?
BT: you’re definitely the cowboy. i’m the millionaire from back east, in on the stagecoach and shocking the rustics with my wit and savoir faire.
JC: *chokes on the last of the Pepsi*
BT: i have rendered the cowboy speechless.
JC: I’ll have the boys in the bunkhouse rustle up a mare to put the side-saddle on for you, there, Percy.
BT: *fumes in outrage* percy! well, you can call me that if you want, but you have to promise to teach me to shoot that big gun of yours.
JC: Why, shore, little darlin’. Here, hold it in your tiny little hand and aim at that empty sarsaparilla bottle on the fence.
BT: *squints, aims, fires, blasts the bottle to kingdom come*
JC: What kind of teacher am I? Fuckin’ A!
BT: language, jersey boy! your ma will have my hide.
JC: I’m not telling her. This thing we have goin’ on is our little secret. :)
BT: oh, not with the smiley faces, please!
JC: Sorry, sorry. I know you’re too dignified for that. *koff purple jammie pants koff*
BT: just for that, you snotty boy, i’m taking the pants off. what do you say now?
JC: Oh, baby.
JC: Lex?
JC: Lex!
BT: excuse me, please, clark. i was overcome by lust for a moment there.
JC: I wondered about that. Maybe I better log off now. But Lex?
BT: yes, jersey boy?
JC: Thank you for this PC. I like chatting with you better than anything.
BT: so do i, cowpoke. so do i.
***
Leaning back in his swivel chair, Lex stared at the screen, where the chat box still showed the conversation. Carefully saving the log to disk, in a file called “JerseyBoy,” he hummed “Red River Valley,” and he smiled.
Author: myownghost
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
With thanks: to the lovely
acampbell for the discerning beta-reading <3Summary: Lex gives Clark his first computer, IMs ensue
“Oh, Mom,” Clark whined, a pained look on his handsome face. “I need a computer this year! It’s getting to be too much hassle waiting for a turn on yours when I have an assignment to do!”
Martha Kent’s lips were set in the harsh line that finances tended to bring out on her face. With a sigh, she waved a fistful of papers at her son, like evidence before a jury. “You know how our budget is running, Clark. I can’t just free up a thousand dollars because you want to browse the internet up in your room. You know we have to compromise to make ends meet.”
Clark threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table, his back to the small side table where Martha’s computer was set up. “Yeah, I know. I don’t mean to be so demanding about this. But some of my classes now require nightly computer time.” His sigh echoed hers. “Sorry, Mom.” He laid his head down on his arms, overcome by the sense of tragedy that comes so naturally to a 15-year-old.
Martha moved to stand behind him, running her hand over his hair, smoothing down a cowlick that delighted her heart. “Maybe one of these days, sweetheart. We can hope that this fall’s crop brings in enough for the computer.” She smiled, seeing the tension in his shoulders relax as she continued to pet him.
He turned his head to the side and looked up at her with one bright eye. “Yeah, I’ll be hoping for that.” His lips curved into an answering smile. Then he sat up straight, squaring his shoulders. “OK, can I have your computer for a while? I have an English essay to write.”
“Sure. But I’ll have to run some spreadsheets later on this evening. Let me know when you’re done.” Martha gave his head one last pat before leaving the room.
Clark looked after her, the smile fading. Another sigh wracked his body. He shook his head and muttered, “Maybe what I need to do is talk to Lex about a loan.”
***
Later that evening, Clark lay on his bed, telephone in hand as he grinned at the ceiling. “Oh, Lex, not another femme fatale! Haven’t you had enough of those yet?”
The voice on the other end of the line chuckled darkly. “Apparently not. It would seem I have a fatal attraction to that kind of woman, and they seek me out like a bear goes for honey. It's some kind of fate.”
The grin fell off Clark’s face. “Time was, you talked about a different kind of fate.” He stopped and frowned. “Lex, I worry about you sometimes. You deserve someone better than these women who don’t treat you right.”
“Ah, well, perhaps. But I think you’re worrying prematurely about Lydia. She hasn’t sold me out or tried to set me on fire yet. Give her a chance before consigning her to the dunghill of my history, will you?”
Clark hummed into the receiver. “Well, OK, since you ask so nice. Oh, listen, I wanted to talk to you about something I need.”
Lex’s indrawn breath was barely audible, but Clark did hear it, as he heard most everything. He added it to the list of little tells that Lex gave without knowing he did. One of these days Clark figured he’d put together the story that they spelled out. For now, though, he had other aims.
“What do you need, Clark?” Lex’s voice had deepened a shade. “You know I’ll do anything for you that I can.”
Clark paused for a moment, feeling a flutter in his pulse, not for the first time in talking to his friend. He’d noticed this early on in their acquaintance, knew it for something that only happened with Lex. Well, at times with girls -- with Lana and, to a lesser extent, with Chloe. But with Lex? It happened often, and he knew to keep it a secret. Whom could he tell about it, anyway?
“I’ve been talking to Mom about needing a computer of my own. We can’t afford it, as I predicted. But I need one for school!”
Lex laughed. “And for chatting up the girls on YIM? And doing ‘research’ into the sexual habits of the modern American high school student? Come on, Clark, be honest.”
His affront only half an act, Clark huffed, “No, seriously, Lex. Teachers expect us to have access now! I have to kick Mom off when I have a paper to write or reading to do, like for social studies. And it’s hard getting Dad off once he gets into his solitaire game.”
A devilish cackle greeted that last sentence. “I can just see Jonathan Kent too intent on a virtual card game to take care of his cows. Say, maybe that explains why you’ve become such a cowboy yourself.”
“Aw, you know he doesn’t neglect his cows, and I don’t mind taking care of them anyway. But really, I end up acting like a bratty kid, stomping my foot to get time online, and it sucks, Lex.” An even more audible indrawn breath stopped Clark cold for a moment.
Lex’s voice dropped lower and was a bit hushed. “So what were you going to ask me to do about this? Float you a loan? I could probably find a PC at work that’s ready to be put to pasture. It wouldn’t be state-of-the-art, but it’d be better than having to get in line and compete with your mother’s spreadsheets and your father’s solitaire.”
Clark all but sprang up off the bed. “Could you, Lex? Could you find one for me? That’d be so cool!”
“Consider it found. Good night, Clark. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.” It sounded like Lex was smiling.
“Good night, Lex.” Clark definitely was. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Lex laughed. “Oh, baby, everyone tells me that.” He rang off.
Clark sat staring at the phone, his mouth slightly ajar. After a moment of silence, he echoed, “Oh, baby?”
***
It took Lex fewer than twenty-four hours to come up with a perfectly serviceable PC for Clark’s use. He brought it by the farmhouse after work and knocked on the front door. When Clark opened to him, he smiled and swept his hands toward his Maserati, for all the world like Vanna White. “Your computer awaits!”
Clattering down the steps with a whoop and a “Thanks, Lex!,” Clark leaned into the trunk and lifted the heavy monitor out as if it weighed nothing, too excited to pretend to be burdened by it. The smile on Lex’s face deepened into visible fondness as he asked, “Where are your parents, Clark?”
“They were going to have dinner in town, they said. I heated something up in the microwave for myself. Hey, you grab the keyboard, and we can go set this up in my room. Is it already loaded with Windows and stuff?” Clark was fairly bouncing like Tigger toward the house and then up the stairs.
“Ready to go. You have only to set up Outlook for your own purposes and download a chat utility. You already know my YIM name. I’ll be checking in on you to make sure you’re being good, Elliott.” Lex stood watching, still with that soft smile, as Clark plugged in the PC and started booting it up and hooking the modem into the phone jack.
When it was up and running, Clark turned to Lex and grabbed him into a warm hug. “I mean it, Lex – you’re the best friend a guy could have.”
Lex’s eyes lost focus and his hands reflexively closed on fistfuls of flannel. He sniffed delicately at the dark hair pressed against his face. “I’m just being the friend you deserve.” A moment’s silence passed before he pried himself away. “And now I’ll leave you to get yourself online and cooking.”
Clark bounced again, as if on springs. “Thanks again. I’ll IM you later on, OK? And tell you all about how great it is to be wired here in my own room.” His grin was luminous.
Lex gazed at him as if basking in bright sunlight. “It’s a deal. For now, I’ll just see myself out.” Clark’s attention was already entirely on the computer. Lex shook his head in amusement as he closed the door behind himself.
***
Around 10:00 p.m., Lex was online, with YIM open, simultaneously working on an important document and frequently checking his buddy list. His mouth twisted in a kind of chagrin each time, as the word ‘buddy’ mocked him with its youthful silliness. There was only one name on the list, and he’d have been alerted at once if JerseyCowboy logged on, but he kept checking anyway.
At last there was a muted “moo” that let him know his buddy had logged on and was ready to chat. At once, BrainTrust sent to JerseyCowboy: Where have you been?
JC: I had a huge, flaming argument with my dad about this computer. It took hours for Mom and me to make him see reason.
BT: I’m sorry, Clark. I should’ve made sure to clear it with Jonathan before bringing it to you.
JC: No, Lex, I should’ve. But Mom finally got through to him about schoolwork and research, plus the fact that this is a used PC.
JC: He was grumbling still when I came upstairs, but Mom had the situation in hand.
BT: *cackles* You don’t want to know what mental images that sentence called up.
JC: NO, no I don’t. Jeez, Lex, spare me!
BT: Sorry, Clark. Forget it. Chalk it up to my twisted sense of the perverse.
JC: Are you calling my parents perverse?
BT: No, but my bringing it up to you was. Did you get your homework done?
JC: Just about. I need to polish up some essay questions, and then I’ll go to bed.
BT: Are you already dressed for bed?
JC: Am I… What kind of question is that?
BT: Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t the youth of America ask each other what they’re wearing when they chat?
JC: YEAH, Lex, the boys and the girls!
BT: Oh, well, consider this practice for chatting with the girls. What are you wearing?
JC: *looks down in bemusement* An old Crows tee-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
BT: Plaid?
JC: At one time. Faded and bled now into a kind of soft… Wait a minute. This isn’t you being perverse again, is it?
BT: Moi? Maybe, depends on your p.o.v. Listen, I ought to let you git along, little dogie. Yippie ti yi yo, and all that.
JC: You are such a moron.
BT: I can take that PC back, you know.
JC: Kidding, just kidding. I know you’re a scientific genius and king of the crap factory. *bows down to BrainTrust*
BT: More like it. Talk to you later, Cowboy. Don’t forget to douse the campfire.
JC: Night, pardner.
***
Within a week’s time, Clark found that his nightly chat with Lex was the best part of each day. Lex always asked what he was wearing, and he had begun asking the same question in return. It made Clark laugh, but he wasn’t sure Lex was laughing on the other end of the modem.
On a Friday night in late fall, they began as usual.
BT: hell of a day, jc. how’s by you?
JC: What’s with the no-caps? You going e.e. cummings on me?
BT: ha very ha. no, i typed so much my hands are worn out.
JC: Don’t you have peons you can have type for you?
BT: think about what you’re saying, jersey boy. any self-respecting administrative assistant these days would tell me to type it myself.
JC: *snorts Pepsi up his nose* I can't see any of your hirelings saying that to you.
BT: mind the keyboard there, cowpoke. i don’t have another spare just lying around the factory.
JC: I’m being careful. What are you wearing, genius?
BT: ooh, i like a man who’s direct. violet jammie bottoms and a pale cream silk tank top. what about you?
JC: A leather vest, chaps over jeans, a six-gun in a low-slung holster, and a ten-gallon hat.
BT: wtf?
JC: Just getting into the part. Actually, all I have on is boxers with Spongebob on them. Indian summer, you know.
BT: oh, baby. spongebob makes me hot, and you know it.
JC: *blinks* “oh, baby”? That’s the second time you’ve said that to me lately. Am I the cowboy in this friendship, or am I Dale Evans?
BT: you’re definitely the cowboy. i’m the millionaire from back east, in on the stagecoach and shocking the rustics with my wit and savoir faire.
JC: *chokes on the last of the Pepsi*
BT: i have rendered the cowboy speechless.
JC: I’ll have the boys in the bunkhouse rustle up a mare to put the side-saddle on for you, there, Percy.
BT: *fumes in outrage* percy! well, you can call me that if you want, but you have to promise to teach me to shoot that big gun of yours.
JC: Why, shore, little darlin’. Here, hold it in your tiny little hand and aim at that empty sarsaparilla bottle on the fence.
BT: *squints, aims, fires, blasts the bottle to kingdom come*
JC: What kind of teacher am I? Fuckin’ A!
BT: language, jersey boy! your ma will have my hide.
JC: I’m not telling her. This thing we have goin’ on is our little secret. :)
BT: oh, not with the smiley faces, please!
JC: Sorry, sorry. I know you’re too dignified for that. *koff purple jammie pants koff*
BT: just for that, you snotty boy, i’m taking the pants off. what do you say now?
JC: Oh, baby.
JC: Lex?
JC: Lex!
BT: excuse me, please, clark. i was overcome by lust for a moment there.
JC: I wondered about that. Maybe I better log off now. But Lex?
BT: yes, jersey boy?
JC: Thank you for this PC. I like chatting with you better than anything.
BT: so do i, cowpoke. so do i.
***
Leaning back in his swivel chair, Lex stared at the screen, where the chat box still showed the conversation. Carefully saving the log to disk, in a file called “JerseyBoy,” he hummed “Red River Valley,” and he smiled.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 11:31 am (UTC)See, you had nothing to worry about!
*hugs*
Thanks for taking part in the challenge
no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 03:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 11:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 03:35 pm (UTC)=^..^=
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Date: 2007-06-01 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-06-01 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 05:15 pm (UTC)Aw, boys! Lovely story.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 05:44 pm (UTC)*imagining Lex in his purple jammie bottoms* ;)
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Date: 2007-06-01 06:07 pm (UTC)thank you!
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Date: 2007-06-01 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 06:08 pm (UTC)i'll think about a sequel. this one just rushed out. some night i'll sit down and sit if anything else does. *g*
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Date: 2007-06-01 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 10:10 pm (UTC)thanks!
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Date: 2007-06-01 08:35 pm (UTC)I enjoyed reading this fic, a lot. ^^
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Date: 2007-06-01 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 09:02 pm (UTC)I love the sweet banter between these two. *g*
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Date: 2007-06-01 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-01 09:59 pm (UTC)Sweet and funny!
Corinna J
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Date: 2007-06-01 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-06-02 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 12:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-06-02 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-03 10:14 pm (UTC)That right there. That's the image I'm taking to bed with me tonight!
Mmmmm clex IMing. Love the concept endlessly, and this is fabulous!
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Date: 2007-06-03 10:59 pm (UTC)ooh, thank you for telling me! that really makes me feel good, and i'm delighted you liked the story. :)
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Date: 2007-06-08 09:26 pm (UTC)yes, i think lex would definitely save the chat log!
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Date: 2007-06-13 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-13 02:55 pm (UTC)thanks so much.
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Date: 2007-06-15 09:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 09:49 pm (UTC)