Here's my first fic for 2007. Hope you enjoy!

Title: You've Got Mail!
Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 22982
Archive: Fine, just let me know
Summary: Sometimes you have to take a chance on real life. Remix of 1998 movie You've Got Mail.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own anyof the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville. Nora Ephron and Warner Bros. Pictures own You've Got Mail. Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.

Thanks to cezmail for the suggestion!

Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.


***

You've Got Mail!

***


"Kent! Listen to this! The state workers for Kansas have network filters and software checks in place to make sure they can't play Solitaire or access non-work-related email or blogging sites. The state claimed productivity was down fifty percent due to games, web-surfing and online journals, so they shut down all access." Clark dragged his eyes open to see Chloe waving a newspaper over his head. "It's the end of Western civilization as we know it!"

Resisting the urge to bury his head under his pillow and completely ignore the entirely too perky blonde, Clark groaned, "Good morning to you too, Chloe." He was going to have to re-think the whole 'emergency key to his apartment' idea if Chloe continued to insist on waking him up entirely too early and with more energy than *anyone* should have at the ungodly hour of 7:00 AM. He just couldn't face it after too many nights of falling into bed after 3:00 AM.

"I made coffee but you have to get out of bed to get any." She waved a cup under his nose, an accomplished mistress of torture. "I think I'm going to do an article on this little tidbit, so I'm out of here." She gave him a shove, eliciting another pitiful groan before whirling around and heading for her coat and messenger bag. "I'm telling you Clark, you think this machine's your friend..." she gave the laptop on his desk a disdainful shove, "...but it's not. It's a useful tool, but it is also removing the printed word from existence, relegating man to the role of input device, eliminating originality." She stopped at the apartment door for a final profound observation. "Physical books will someday be a thing of the past, and then where will you be?" A slam of the door, and his vibrating friend was gone.

Clark listened intently for returning footsteps and then sprang into action. Throwing on a robe over his boxers, he scanned the building for Chloe's skeleton before striding over to the laptop and turning it on. He headed to the bathroom for a fast shower while he waited for it to return from hibernation and connect to the internet. He knew that by the time he had cleaned up and gotten dressed, all his favorite blogs would be up and refreshed and his email ready to read. Grabbing a cup of the coffee that Chloe had so kindly left for him, he sat down at his desk and began another day.


Tues, 22 Sep 2009 07:02:25 EST
From: "MET152"
To: "shop_freak"
Subject: Brinkley

Brinkley is my dog. He loves the streets of Metropolis as much as I do, although he likes to eat bits of pizza and bagels off the sidewalk and I prefer to buy them. Brinkley is a great catcher and was offered a tryout on the Hawks farm team, but he chose to stay with me, so he could spend eighteen hours a day sleeping on a green cushion the size of an inner tube.

Don't you love Metropolis in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.


. . .


Following his golden retriever into the kitchen, Lex grabbed a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator and carried it over to the table. He poured a tall glass as he sat down, glancing at the newspaper in front of him. He ignored the muttered commentary from his girlfriend in the bedroom until it was loud enough to require response. "I'm in a terrible hurry, Lex. Can you start my espresso?"

Sighing, Lex got up. Stepping over the dog lying on his green cushion, Lex pushed the required button on the complicated machine and returned to his seat.

A querulous voice called, "Did you turn it on?"

Sipping his juice, Lex continued to read the headlines and absently yelled back, "It's on, Lois!"

A whirlwind with long, honey-colored hair blew into the kitchen. "I'm really late!" She threw a folded newspaper on the table, nearly upsetting Lex's glass and scurried to the espresso machine. "Random House fired Dick Atkins, good riddance." She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she stood in front of the machine. "Murray Chilton died, which means one less person I'm talking to...hurry, hurry, hurry!" She ran back into the living room and gathered her briefcase and coat, then bustled back to grab the small cup and sip. "Vince got a great review, he'll be insufferable." Setting the cup back down, she turned to Lex and pointed, "Tonight, P&N dinner!"

Lex grimaced, "Am I going?"

Lois frowned back at him. "Lex Luthor, you promised!"

Throwing down his newspaper, Lex protested. "It's black tie..." Lois thrust her lips out in an exaggerated pout. "Can't I just give money instead?" He shook his head in disgust. "What is it this week? Free Kirschwellian writers?"

Lois snickered, rushed over to the table and straddled Lex's lap, bouncing as she rubbed herself against her reluctant boyfriend. He laughed, and lifted her back up. "OK, OK, I'll go. You're late."

"I know." He was rewarded with a quick peck on the top of his sleek, bald, head before Lois blew out of the apartment.

Waiting a minute or two for any sign that Hurricane Lois was returning for missing accessories, Lex picked up his glass and carried it into his study where his laptop was open. Entering his password, he sat back in his comfortable leather chair and sipped his remaining orange juice while his email loaded and spam filters finished clearing out claims for larger penises and/or breasts and opportunities to assist foreign dignitaries with their money troubles. Brinkley, who had followed him in, laid his head on Lex's leg and made himself available for gentle ear tugging until the email Lex was waiting for was opened.


Tues, 22 Sep 2009 08:05:25 EST
From: "shop_freak"
To: "MET152"
Subject: Dear Friend

I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend we're the oldest and dearest friends as opposed to what we actually are; two people who don't know each other's names and met in a chat room where we both claimed we had never been before.

'What will MET152 say today?' I wonder as I turn on my computer and wait impatiently for the notification that tells me I have mail that isn't an opportunity to claim a prize for a contest I didn't enter or the revolutionary new secret to prolonging the male orgasm.

I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Metropolis, just the beat of my own heart and I smile. I have mail, from you.


. . .


At the chime of the reminder on his laptop, Clark checked the time and jumped up. He snapped the laptop shut, grabbed his denim jacket and glasses and ran out of his apartment. Taking the stairs two at a time, he burst out onto the street and headed for his shop at a jog, enjoying the crisp fall air. His infectious grin brought waves from his neighbors as he passed their apartment buildings and storefronts during his ten-block run to work. He arrived at the small bookstore just as Lana, one of his three part-time employees at the 'Shop Around the Corner', walked up. "Isn't it a beautiful day?" Unlocking the metal gate that covered the door and plate glass windows, he rolled it up. "Don't you just love the city in the fall?" He opened the door with a flourish and a dazzling smile, treated to a giggle from the petite brunette. "Apres vous, mademoiselle!"

Lana performed a perfect curtsy, "Merci, m'sieu," before preceding the charming young man into his shop.


. . .


Carrying his briefcase and wearing a perfectly fitted black suit with a lavender shirt and stylish tie, Lex was smiling as he arrived at the newest LuthorBooks acquisition. His head assistant, Damian, met him at the door for an inspection of the construction work going on. "The electrical contractor called, his truck hit a deer last night so he's not going to be here until tomorrow. The upstairs shelves have been delayed because the shipment of pine has beetles."

"Very good. Very good." Lex was absently looking at plastic-covered piles of lumber and concrete blocks as they walked through the first floor.

"And we have a fifty thousand dollar ticket for construction workers peeing off the roof."

Lex stopped walking and passed his hand over his smooth head. "Great. Has the electrician arrived yet?"

Damien frowned. "I just told you he hit a deer. I knew you weren't paying attention."

Walking towards the sunken center of the building, Lex grinned as he agreed. "You're right. I wasn't listening. I hear nothing, nothing, not a sound on the city streets, just the beat of my own heart." He looked at Damien, his blue eyes alight. "I think that's how it goes...something like that."

Damien came to a complete stop. "You and Lois got engaged, didn't you?"

"Are you crazy?" Lex's mouth dropped open and his eyes were wide with disbelief.

"What, I thought you liked Lois?"

"I do. I *love* Lois. Lois...Lois is amazing." Lex winced. "Lois Lane makes *coffee* nervous." They resumed the inspection, passing by a number of construction workers who waved to them. "You know what? We should announce ourselves to the neighborhood. Just let them know that 'Here we come'!"

Damien shook his head, "No, this is the Upper West Side. We might as well tell them we're opening up a...a crack house. They're going to hate us. As soon as they hear, they're going to be lining up...

Lex reversed and started walking backwards, looking at Damien. "...to picket the big bad chain store..."

"...that's out to destroy..." Damien shook his finger at Lex.

Lex stopped and threw his arms wide. "...everything they hold dear."

Damien's eyebrows rose. "Exactly."

Lex waited for Damien to come up to him and then threw an arm over his shoulders. "Do you know what? We are going to seduce them. We're going to seduce them with our square footage, and our discounts, and our deep plush armchairs, and..."

Lex and Damien grinned at each other and chorused, "Our cappuccino."

"That's right. They're going to hate us at the beginning, but..."

Like an old vaudeville act, they turned to each other and threw their arms open, "...but we'll get them in the end."

Lex grinned. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" Damien fed Lex the question, already knowing the answer.

Lex picked up his briefcase and started heading for the door, calling back, "Because we're going to sell them cheap books and legal addictive stimulants. In the meantime, we'll just put up a big sign: "Coming soon, a LuthorBooks superstore and the end of civilization as you know it."


. . .


Lana placed the small pumpkin she was carrying on the counter and watched with curiosity as Clark picked the vase of marigolds and actually twirled with them before he carried them to the back for fresh water. "Clark, what is going on with you?"

Coming back out, face buried in the flowers, Clark murmured "Perfect."

"You're in love!"

"In love? No, no...I'm not *in* love, just excited about the possibilities that exist for love." Clark set the vase down on the counter by the pumpkin and pulled off his jacket, tossing it on a hook. "Do you think we could get our Christmas mailings out this week?"

"I know, I should have them started already, but I have this paper due Friday..." Lana started opening a carton of books as Clark set up the register. "Just one more year, and I'll have completed my masters. Hard to believe..." Looking back over her shoulder, she sighed and abandoned the carton to stand at the other side of the counter. She frowned; examining the young man she had known for years and loved like a brother. "I'm just going to stand here until you tell me what's going on."

Rolling his eyes, Clark pretended to think about it, and then leaned forward eagerly. "Do you think you could possibly be attracted to...someone you met online?"

Lana's eyebrows rose. "Have you had sex?"

"Lana Lang! No, of course not! I don't even know him." Clark's cheeks were fire-engine red as he protested.

Lana giggled. "I mean cyber-sex."

"No!" The blush wasn't going away.

Lana nodded her head knowingly. "Well, you know what? Don't do it, because the minute you do, they lose all respect for you." She wandered back to the open carton and started sorting books.

Clark shrugged and pushed away from the counter. "It's not like that. We just email each other. It's really nothing." He walked around the counter and started tidying up the books scattered on the small tables in the center of the store. "On top of which I am definitely thinking about stopping because it's getting..."

"Out of hand?"

"...confusing. But not, because...it's...nothing." Grabbing the coffeepot, Clark walked to the back room to fill it with water.

Lana was waiting when he walked back out. 'Where'd you meet him?"

"I don't really remember." Clark stepped around his friend so he could reach the coffee maker. Lana stepped back in front of him and stood silently with her arms folded. "OK, it was my birthday and for kicks I sort of entered this over-thirty chat room, because you know I prefer slightly older men, and he was there and we started chatting..."

Lana moved out of Clark's way. "About what?"

Clark finished filling the coffee maker and turned it on. "Books, music, how much we loved Metropolis...harmless, meaningless..." His green eyes softened. "Bouquets of sharpened pencils..."

"Excuse me?"

Clark wrinkled his nose and laughed at himself. "Forget it, it's nothing." Setting out coffee cups, he began to fill the containers of sugar packets and creamers. "We don't talk about anything personal, so I don't know his name or what he does or where he lives exactly...so it'll be really easy for me to stop seeing him because...I'm not."

"I think it's amazing that he could be the next person to walk into this store, and you wouldn't know it. He could be..."

They both glanced at the front of the store as the bell over the door rang and a young black man stumbled in, carrying a large coffee cup and backpack. He carefully closed the door behind himself and then looked at the two standing at the counter. "What?"

Lana grinned at her co-worker. "Pete, do you spend much time online?"

He scowled at her, "To me the internet is just another way of being rejected by women." He turned without another word and stomped towards the back room, muttering under his breath.

Another ring of the bell and an older woman came in. Clark and Lana greeted her together, "Good morning, Nell."

Taking off her coat, Nell studied them and asked, "What are you two talking about?"

Lana pointed at Clark, grinning. "Cyber-sex."

Nell chuckled as she entered the small office behind the counter. "I tried to have cyber-sex once, but I kept getting' page not found' errors."

Laughing at her aunt, Lana went back to sorting books while Clark opened the door for the first customers of the day, greeting them by name.


. . .



"Well, we should be able to open on time, but Damian and I are concerned about the neighborhood response." Lex turned away from the impressive view of Metropolis and sat on the couch in his father's office. "What kind of fabric is this?

Lionel didn't look up from the papers he was reviewing. "Its name is *money*."

"Oh, Victoria picked it out."

"You got it. By the way, I'm getting married again."

Lex shifted on the couch trying to get comfortable. "Is it love?"

"Possibly."

"Don't you think you should be sure first?"

"Lex, your brother Julian is four years old. Don't you think it would nice for him if he knew his parents were married?"

Dismissing his father's news, Lex gave up on the couch and walked over to the scale model of the newest store. "Listen, I have a sad announcement to make. City Books on Twenty-third Street is going under." Lex couldn't repress a smirk as he conveyed the news.

"Aww, another independent bites the dust." Lionel got up and went to the bar that extended along one side of the office.

Lex declared, "I'm going to buy out their entire inventory of architecture and Metropolis history for the new store."

"How much are you paying, son?" The amber whiskey in Lionel's tumbler swirled before he sipped.

"Whatever it is, it will be significantly less than that...mohair monstrosity of a couch there...," he looked down at his pants in dismay, "...which is now all over my suit!"

"Here you go." Lionel walked back to his desk, where reached into a drawer and pulled out a lint brush, tossing it to Lex.

"We're also going to have a section dedicated to writers who've lived in Metropolis." Lex frowned at the amount of gray fur the brush was removing from his clothes.

"That should keep those West Side, liberal, pseudo-intellectuals..." Lionel dropped into his chair as he began to rant.

"Readers, Dad, they're called readers."

Lionel waved Lex's reproach away. "Don't do that son, don't romanticize them. It'll keep them from jumping down your throat." He sipped his drink again. "What's the rest of the competition?"

Lex shrugged, unconcerned. "One mystery store, Sleuth, and a children's book store, The Shop Around the Corner."

Lionel's face softened. "Martha's store..."

"Who?" Lex was curious about the woman who could make his father look like that.

"Martha Kent. Lovely woman, her family, the Clarks, lived in Metropolis. She had married a farmer and was living in Smallville when..." Lionel ran his hand over his substantial head of hair while looking at his son, "Her husband was killed that day. She'd found a young boy in a field out there, in the middle of that hell. She was headed to town when she picked us up, you and me, by the side of the road. She got us to the hospital, may have even saved your life. I helped her with the boy's adoption and that was really the last time I saw them." His eyes were distant as he recalled that day. "She sold the farm and moved back to Metropolis with the boy to open a little bookstore. I...very lovely woman."

Thrusting his hands in his pockets, Lex walked to the window to look out over the city again. He didn't like to think about that day, so he wasn't surprised that he didn't remember her. After all, it was the only time they had been to Smallville; a fluke that he'd accompanied his father out to look at some plant he was thinking about buying, to diversify his holdings. Afterwards, Lionel had decided to stick to what he knew, books and communications, and leave manufacturing to someone else. Lex had been sent around the country to help build his father's company, their company, into one of the biggest print and media outlets in the world and now he was back in the city where it all started. Frowning at his reflection in the window, he reminded himself that he wasn't going to let sentiment stop him from owning it all in Metropolis too.

. . .


Weds, 07 Oct 2009 18:35:25 EST
From: "shop_freak"
To: "MET152"
Subject: Nature's mysteries

Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I can only assume it was going to Fordmans to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake - as almost all hats are.


Thurs, 08 Oct 2009 08:02:25 EST
From: "MET152"
To: "shop_freak"
Subject: Re: Nature's mysteries

Listen to this. Every night a truck pulls up to my neighborhood bagel place, and pumps about a ton of flour into underground tanks, and then the air is filled with white dust that never seems to land. Why is that?


Fri, 09 Oct 2009 07:15:25 EST
From: "shop_freak"
To: "MET152"
Subject: Book lust

Confession time. I am a complete and utter romantic. I have read 'Pride and Prejudice' about 200 times. I get lost in the language – words like 'thither' and 'mischievous' and 'felicity'. I'm always in agony over whether Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are going to get together. Read it. I know you'll love it.


Fri, 09 Oct 2009 07:45:25 EST
From: "MET152"
To: "shop_freak"
Subject: Defining moments

The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is to force people, with no decision-making ability whatsoever, to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are, can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self. Myself? I'm tall, decaf, cappuccino.


. . .


Clark, Pete and Lana stood together on the chilly corner opposite the newest LuthorBooks store and stared at the ongoing construction.

Pete's shoulders drooped. "A LuthorBooks Superstore. Three short blocks away from us."

"What a nightmare." Lana groaned.

Clark shook his head. "It has nothing to do with us. It's big, impersonal, overstocked and full of ignorant salespeople."

"But they discount," Pete pointed out.

Clark refused to be discouraged. "But they don't provide any service. We do." He threw his arms over their shoulders and gave them both a little shake. "So really, it's a good development. You know how in the flower district there are all those flower shops in a row so you can find whatever you want? Well, this is going to be the book district. If they don't have it, we do."

Lana tilted her head and winked at Clark. "And vice versa."

"Absolutely!" he agreed enthusiastically.


. . .



Chloe breezed into Clark's apartment and dropped a large pile of flyers on his kitchen table. "Clark, when you are finished with LuthorBooks, The Shop Around the Corner is going to be responsible for reversing the entire course of the Industrial Revolution."

Picking up one of the printed sheets, Clark glanced at it. "That is so sweet, Chloe. Thank you for doing this."

"My pleasure. Only too happy to do my part to hold back the unwashed hordes." Chloe pulled up a chair and the table and started folding the flyers in thirds. She looked up at Clark, who was standing there, looking pensive. "What's wrong?"

He sighed. "I've been wondering about my work. I'm just...what is it really that I do? All I do is run a tiny bookstore..."

Chloe jumped up and hugged her friend. "You...you are doing an incredibly noble thing." She pushed away from him and squinted as she thought. "Clark, you...you are a lone reed." She grabbed one of the flyers, flipped it over and started scribbling on the back. "You are a lone reed, standing tall, waving boldly in the corrupt sands of commerce." She picked up the flyer and stuck it to Clark's refrigerator with a magnet. "Hey, I've got to go. Got a lead on some big guy who's been seen around the city at night lately, running off muggers and helping old bag ladies cross the street." She grabbed her coat and was out the door. "Later!"

Clark shook his head at his friend's departure. She'd always been a bundle of energy for as long as he'd known her, providing the majority of any excitement during his rather ordinary years at college. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth before leaving for work. "I'm a lone reed." Scowling at himself in the mirror over the sink, he muttered, "I might be happier about being one, if I understood what that meant."


. . .


Weds, 21 Oct 2009 23:44:25 EST
From: "shop_freak"
To: "MET152"
Subject: A life - incomplete


Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?

I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.



Part 2