Notes: For Yavannauk, who requested Clark/Lex with the prompt of: playing in the snow, interpret play however you see fit.

Spirit of the Season

Jonathan grinned at the feminine shrieks of laughter and the low rumblings of the taunting male. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he watched as Lana and Chloe helped Hannah chase her big brother around the snow-covered yard. It was his daughter’s first real snowfall but it was his nearly-out-of-college son who had dragged the family outside to play. And when Lana and Chloe arrived, it quickly became a snowball fight with the girls versus the pitiful lone male.

Clark had no chance at all.

He and Martha laughed as Lana helped Hannah peg Clark right in the head. He shook the snow out of his dark hair like a lion before growling low in his throat. Hannah shrieked with laughter as he slowly stalked towards her. She laughed even harder, diving for safety, as the snowball intended for her hit Lana instead. 

“Lana!” Clark didn’t apologize, but grinned instead.

The brunette dangerously narrowed her eyes. “This means war, Clark.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s been war since the three of you ganged up on me!”

“Oh please,” Chloe snarked, “as if the three of us have any chance against the super powered alien!”

“Hey! I promised I wouldn’t use them and I didn’t!”

“He’s got a point,” Lana agreed.

Chloe’s eyebrows went straight up into her rainbow-colored hat. “Does this mean you’re letting him off for pelting you?”

Lana snorted delicately even as she fired off another snowball.

Clark dove to the right … just in time to be hit by Chloe’s ball. He glared at both of them. “Fine. You wanna play dirty?”

The older girls screamed and scattered as Clark’s bowling ball sized snowball hurled through the air. Hannah just ducked. 

“Well, it looks like reinforcements are in order.”

Jonathan laughed as Martha firmly pulled on her gloves, donned her game face and marched off the porch. “Look out, son!” 

“Dad! Are you goin’ to help me?!”

“Now, Clark, while male solidarity is one thing,” Jonathan smiled brightly when Martha tossed him a look, “the couch is a whole ‘nother animal.”

Clark tossed him a look that screamed, “Traitor!” He disappeared and reappeared, dumping a handful on snow on his mother, only to disappear again.

“All right, ladies,” Martha gathered the girls to her. “This calls for a little strategy.”

Jon hid his smirk behind a gloved hand, firmly staying out of things even when Clark’s eyes narrowed. He had to clutch his stomach from the laughter as his son launched himself into the air, avoiding Hannah's low ball, only to be pegged by Martha and Chloe.

He landed in a crouch, eyes still narrowed. Another volley of snowballs pelted him. A burst of speed later, Clark snatched up Hannah, using her as a shield. But really, Hannah was a tiny girl and Clark was a really big kid. Martha and the girls still had plenty of target left to aim for.

“Clark, I am thoroughly disappointed in you, my friend. Using a child as a shield?”



Jon shook his head in bemusement as both of his children’s faces lit up. 

Lex barely caught Hannah as she hurtled herself through the air at him.

"Clark was cheatin'!" she declared, glaring over her shoulder at her big brother.

"Was he now?" Lex smirked. "Was he using his powers?"

Titian curls, freed from her hat from play, bobbed. "He promised he wouldn't!"

"Hey! I was outnumbered!"

Lex tsked. "Clark, I can't believe you cheated. What would the world say if they knew Superman cheated in a snowball fight?" Silver blue eyes twinkled with mirth as Clark scowled at them.

"You know what, Lex?" Clark's scowled turned into a devilish grin.

"Ah damn!"

Hannah screeched with laughter as Lex lunged to the side, narrowly ducking the huge snowball. He tucked and rolled, protecting her. Quickly setting her on her feet, he rose from the ground, eyes glinting with retribution. He turned, searching for his allies' positions. "Ladies?"

They all grinned back at him.

"Oh shit," Clark whispered, running, ducking, narrowly missed by some of the projectiles, being thoroughly plastered by others.

"Whoa, Clark's got his hands full, doesn't he?"

Jonathan turned in surprise, not noticing Pete and Whitney's arrivals. "Yeah, why don't you boys go out there and help him?"

The young men grinned at each other, whooping as they jumped off the porch.

The battle was fast and furious as the two teams pelted the hell out of each other. But it quickly turned into a free-for-all. 

"Lex! Look out!"

Lex had no idea who yelled the warning, but it was too late. He gasped as a solid two hundred pound alien tackled him into a huge snowbed. He gasped and laughed and muttered obscenities as he fought with Clark . . . who was still trying to stuff snow down his coat. "Clark! No! Stop!"


"Yes!" He panted as Clark knelt up. His breathing became even more labored as he realized that his best friend was straddled over his waist. Long legs and a deliciously heavy body kept him physically pinned, but it was Clark's smile that froze the air in his lungs. Gentle, loving, mischievious, it quite simply took his breath away. "Clark?"

Lex gasped when a warm, strong hand cupped his jaw, thumb lightly stroking his lips. 

"Merry Christmas, Lex." Warm, soft breath fluttered against his mouth before warmer, softer lips brushed against his own.


No one jumped exactly when the knock sounded, but they did all turn to the kitchen door.

"What's he doing here?" Jonathan muttered, slowly putting down his cup.

"Jon." Martha placed a warning hand on her husband's arm before rising. "Lionel, good evening."

"Martha." Lionel didn't ask permission, simply letting himself in as if it was his right. He turned, glancing at the full kitchen table. "Judge Ross, Mr. Ross."

"Mr. Luthor." Judge Ross greeted him as her husband merely leaned back in his chair, throwing Lionel a contemptuous glare.


"Mr. Luthor, nice to see you again."

Lionel barely glanced at the pale haired woman, instead, looking to Martha.

"Lionel, I'd like you to meet Anne Fordman. She and her family own Fordman's in town."

"A pleasure, Mrs. Fordman."

"Thank you, Mr. Luthor." 

Lionel once again turned back to Martha. "Now that all the formalities are through, where is my son?"

The three men bristled while the women calmed them. 

Martha bent a reproving frown upon the tycoon before pointing towards the living room. "Lex is in there."

He briskly nodded, then turned on his heel, only to stop dead. The Sullivan girl was fast asleep in the lap of the equally slumbering Ross boy, while Nell Potter's niece laid curled with what had to be Mrs. Fordman's son. But it was the sight of Clark Kent, with his young sister draped across his stomach, that caused Lionel pause. For there was his son, tucked gently into Clark's side, bald head nestled on the boy's broad shoulder, and an arm resting across the girl's back, fingers linked with Clark's. 

He turned slightly when he noticed her presence.

"He's peaceful, Lionel. Leave him be," Martha murmured.

"He's a Luthor. This is not his place nor his destiny." 

"It is now." She turned fully towards him, but her eyes never left the sleeping children. "Come have coffee with us, Lionel," she invited. For after all, it was the spirit of the season.

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