Early the next morning, after breakfast, Lucinda knocked on Lex's office door and found him already signing papers.
Lex usually didn't eat breakfast at home; Molly had told her stories of him strolling around Smallville at dawn, checking on his workers' homes as if he were running for mayor or trying to collect character references from the universe.
Honestly, at first, Lucinda thought Molly was being dramatic. Housekeepers tend to exaggerate when they adore their boss, right? But apparently not. Lucinda had never seen that side of Lex in the series. She definitely never read it in the comics nor any of the online forums. Yet here he was — the unexpected humanitarian version DLC of Lex Luthor — quietly existing like it's the most normal thing in the world.
"Don't you ever sleep?" Lucinda asked, walking closer and stopping at his desk.
Lex only moved his eyes to her without lifting his head, still absorbed in his contract.
"I believe we parted at 8:46 PM, I slept around 9, woke up at 5, and it is now 6:46 AM," he recited so quickly her brain lagged. "Adults from eighteen to sixty require at least seven hours of sleep."
Lucinda blinked. "Right. Of course." She grimaced. "Anyway, I need to go to the Kents."
"Hm?" Lex finally lifted his head and leaned back.
Lucinda smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to apologize in person for losing— and possibly destroying— Mrs. Kent's container. And we didn't even get to taste whatever she baked." Alibi. Of course.
"Oh." Lex's brows rose. "I forgot about that."
He suddenly stood, closing the folder with finality. "I'll drive you."
Lucinda didn't even get the chance to argue. Lex grabbed his long coat, already heading for the door.
Today he wore a purple sweater— and unfortunately, it looked very good on him. Regal, confident… annoyingly attractive. Purple, the color of royalty, fits him best.
"Lucy?"
Lucinda blinked. "Damn, I spaced out again," she thought.
"Yeah?"
Lex eyed her from head to toe and blinked. "I did only give you almost-pink cartoon tops, didn't I?"
Lucinda's lips flattened as she glanced at her flamboyantly floral shirt. "Yeah. You did."
"Come on," Lex chuckled, gesturing her out the door.
Lucinda sighed but followed him to the garrage and to Lex's silver Porsche Carrera. As always, he drove like the road bowed to him, and before long they arrived at the Kent Farm.
She stepped out, shut the door, and looked back at him.
"I'll be back by noon," Lex simply said.
Lucinda nodded, and as soon as the Porsche disappeared from view, she grinned and headed toward the house— where Martha Kent was watering plants in the backyard.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kent," Lucinda greeted from outside the gate.
Martha turned, lifting her rounded cowboy hat. Her smile brightened when she saw Lucinda.
"Lucy, what brings you here?" Martha said warmly. She set down her vintage watering can and opened the gate for her.
Lucinda stepped inside, already beaming. "Oh, it's about the container you sent yesterday. We kind of… lost it in Metropolis."
Martha blinked. "Container? What container?"
"The one with the apple pie?" Lucinda explained. "Clark brought it to the mansion and—"
She paused as Clark stepped out from behind the house. He froze for a second before rushing over beside his mother.
"Clark," Martha said, almost teasing, "Lucy and I were just talking about the container you told her I sent through you."
Lucinda pressed her lips together, fighting a giggle when she realized Clark must have even baked the pie himself. Martha Kent teasing Clark was the serotonin she didn't know she needed.
Clark smiled sheepishly, glancing between them. Martha looked at Clark, then Lucinda, and grinned knowingly.
"I'll leave you two to talk," she said, excusing herself to the barn.
The moment Martha disappeared, Lucinda smirked, poking a finger at Clark's chest. "Ohooo. If I didn't know you were in love with someone else, I'd honestly think you sent me pie to impress me."
Clark turned bright red, forcing a sheepish smile.
"Relax, Clark," Lucinda reassured immediately. "I kept my word. I won't tell anyone about your secrets— especially not Lex."
Clark still said nothing. He only stared at the ground like it suddenly became the most fascinating thing in Kansas.
"Oh, c'mon! Are you just going to stand there?" Lucinda hissed under her breath. "Say something. It's not like I don't know you went there, gave us those pies just to make sure I didn't say anything."
Clark finally sighed—one of those deep, dramatic, barn-shaking sighs. "Yeah… I'm sorry. I was just really anxious."
Lucinda squinted at him for a long moment before exhaling. "You really don't trust Lex, do you?"
Clark tilted his head, looking both hesitant and painfully earnest. "It's not that. Lex is my friend. That's why I can't tell him."
"Because you think he might not be able to handle the truth?" Lucinda asked, even though she already knew the answer. She was merely checking if she'd accidentally derailed the universe again.
"Well… yes," Clark admitted. "Dad doesn't trust him because he's a Luthor. But I do trust Lex. It's just that I don't want him to become fixated on me and my abilities."
Lucinda clicked her tongue. "Clark, he's already fixated. The mystery is what's driving him nuts. If you tell him the truth, half of that anxiety would evaporate."
Clark winced. "Would it, though?"
"Yes!" Lucinda insisted. "You might not trust me yet—sure, fine, you've known me for like three, four days? I honestly lose count—but I've seen your future. Both yours and Lex's. And your friendship? It could've been legendary. But legends only survive when trust exists from the beginning."
She reached up to place a comforting hand on Clark's shoulder… only to realize she couldn't reach it without tiptoeing and the tucked-in floral shirt kept her from doing so. She placed her hand back down with all the dignity she could salvage.
"Anyway," she muttered. "You get the point."
Clark looked down. "I'm not sure, Lucy."
"I know, Clark," Lucinda said, crossing her arms with a firm nod. "I'm not rushing you, okay? I'm not dragging you to the mansion and forcing you to announce, 'Surprise, Lex! I speed run for fun.' No one's asking for that."
Clark winced. "That's… not funny."
"It's a little funny," Lucinda insisted. Then, softer, "But I get it. You're careful. You have every right to be. And I'm not here to step on your boundaries."
She took a breath, eyes gentle but unwavering. "But you'll see it eventually. Lex is genuine. Too genuine for his own emotional safety, honestly. He sees you as his savior, a friend… and even the brother he never had."
Clark looked away at that, shoulders tightening.
"And I'm not saying this because he's my boss," Lucinda added quickly, pointing a thumb at herself. "I'm saying this because I know. I've seen what happens when the two of you trust each other. It's legendary. Like—write-this-down-in-smallville-history-books legendary."
Clark's lips twitched, uncertain but listening.
Lucinda stepped back, hands on her hips. "So no, I'm not forcing honesty out of you today. But I am telling you: you don't have to be afraid of Lex the way everyone expects you to be. He's not his father. And he never will be—not with you."