Cover by Hope

Banquet by Celli Lane Feedback: Please! Thank you. celli@fanfic101.com Category: Angst. Rating: PG. Spoilers: Post-Visitor. Summary: "He categorizes his grievances and banishes them, bite by bite, sip by sip." Archiving: Ask and I'll probably say yes. Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar Gough Ink, Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted people with lawyers. Bummer. Notes: Caro played midwife as usual. Thanks, hon! Written for plum_evil's Quotable Media Challenge.

Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death.
-- Auntie Mame

Lex devours his emotions every morning.

A little self-pity stirred into his coffee. A nice dose of resentment sprinkled on his scrambled eggs.

It works this way: He wakes up angry. Always. He allows himself a certain amount of time (the length of a hot shower, say) to nurture it. He plays the faces through his head. Lionel. Clark. Jonathan. Helen, on the days she's fighting with him, which is often enough.

By the time he gets to reporters, incompetent employees, and the idiots who pave the Lowell County roads, time's up. His showers aren't very long.

Then it's down to breakfast, where he categorizes his grievances and banishes them, bite by bite, sip by sip.

My father's antagonism will work for me in the long run. If I play his game long enough, it'll become mine. Really, without him I wouldn't be strong enough to accomplish my destiny.

Once I have everything in place, I'll show Clark and his family that I can be trusted with the truth. He's my best friend. He just needs to learn that I'm his.

I was attracted to Helen because of her fierceness. No one else stands up to me like her, and I have to respect that.

I refuse to regret the things I've done. Maybe the people of this town can't understand me. They don't even bother to try--careful, take another bite, chew slowly, remember the agenda here--but in the end, instead of my father's actions sullying the Luthor name, my actions will redeem it.

By the time breakfast is done, he's--not calm, not quiet, he needs an edge to deal with his everyday life--but composed. Detached. Ready to take on the world, and all the individual annoyances in it.

...then Helen comes slamming through the doors, demanding to know about something that's none of her business. Or another of Clark's little "adventures" comes to his attention. Or on the really good days, both happen at the same time.

Lex sighs and wonders what justifications he'll be choking down with lunch.

--the end--

Photos from The WB and used without permission

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