Summary: Clark has a new red sweater and a basket of yummies.

Notes:  Inspired by fairy tale stories, this is a Clark/Lex version of Little Red Riding Hood.
Feedback is most welcome, on this, my only Smallville fic.  Also, I'm not kidding about the potential benefits of multiple crops in one field.  Although I don't know what might be good crop mixes in Kansas.  Little Red Riding Hood has some darker undertones that I don't get into here - but really, I didn't want the story to be *dark*!!

I have no idea if Clark has a grandmother, or where she might live.  Let's call this an AU.
 

* * * * *

It was Saturday morning, and Clark was steadfastly doing his chores.  Feeding the chickens, taking down bales of hay, filling the water troughs - all the chores a good farm boy did.  It was a beautiful morning, and Clark, being a dutiful son, performed his work with diligence.

"Clark?"  His mom came over, carrying some lemonade.  "Why don't you take a break, honey?"

Clark smiled, inwardly shaking his head.  He wasn't tired, but it did his mom good to look after him, so he always went along.  And anyway, she made a great lemonade.  "Thanks, mom."  He downed the juice quickly and handed the glass back.

Smiling happily, his mom continued, "Your grandmother's hip has been acting up for the last week, I thought it would be nice if you took over a care package that I'm going to put together.  Do you have time this afternoon?  Maybe you could help her with dinner.  I'm sure she'd love to see you."

"Sure.  No problem."  He liked his grandmother.  She knew how to have fun and was a little eccentric.  A few years ago she'd been diagnosed with cancer.   Going through treatment had led to hair loss, and she'd contentedly entered the world of wigs, generally going for slightly odd choices.   After going into remission, she'd decided she liked the wigs better than her own thinning hair, and started shaving her head and adding to her wig collection.  She was quite a sight when she went into town.

Lately, she'd moved towards wilder and wilder wigs, and the last time Clark had seen her, he'd wondered at first if she was a meteorite mutant.  Thankfully, the wig hadn't been alive, even if it had looked it.  It really would have sucked to have to take out his own grandmother.

* * * * *

Later that day, he got ready to head out to his grandmother's cottage.  The best route to take was through some of his father's fields, including the experimental multiple-crop field they'd been growing for a few years.   He yelled to his mother, who was knitting on the porch.   "Mom!  I'm going to go now.  Is this the basket on the table?"

"Just a moment, honey."   Carrying a red bundle, she came into the kitchen.  "Yes, that's it.   Be careful, ok?  I've packed some preserves and a couple of bottles of your father's wine.  The red was pretty good this year."

Clark rolled his eyes.   His poor grandmother, endless recipient of his father's failed attempts at wine making.  "Sure.  See you later!"

"Oh, Clark, here.  I just finished this."  She held out a red sweater.  "It'll keep you warm."

"Thanks, mom."  It was a pretty nice sweater, the wool soft and fine.   "It's great."  He slipped it over his head.

"Have a good time, honey."

* * * * *

He contemplated using super-speed to get to his grandmother's cottage, but it really was a beautiful day.   He'd walk and enjoy it.  It was pretty rare that he got to just leisurely enjoy the fields around him.

On his way, he ran into Lana, who was out exercising her horse in fields that were fallow this year.

"Hi, Clark! That's a great sweater."     She beamed down at him, and he tried not to blush.

"Thanks, Lana.  Um...It's a great day."

"It sure is.  It seems like forever since we've had a day like this.  Where are you going?"

"My mom's sending me with some treats for my grandmother."  He held up the basket.  "She's not feeling very well."

Lana's eyes went wide, and her open expression took on an edge of concern.  "I'm sorry to hear that, Clark.   Can I come and say hello?"

He grinned.  "Sure.  That's really nice of you."  Together, they continued through the field, chatting idly, and avoiding the subjects of Whitney, odd happenings, and anything stressful.  Eventually they reached the edge of the experimental field, and Lana stopped her horse.

"Are you cutting through there?"  She looked oddly worried.

He nodded.  "It's the fastest way. Otherwise we have to go around."

"Can't we just do that?"

Frowning, he shook his head.  "That would take an hour or so, Lana.  It's a big field.  I don't want to get to my grandmother's house too late.  I'm supposed to help her with dinner."

She frowned at the field for a few moments.  "Are you sure?"

"Yeah.   If I don't get there before she starts..."

Lana shrugged.  "Ok.  But I'm not going through there.   See you later, Clark."  She turned her horse around, and started moving away.

Weird.  "Lana, wait!  What's the big deal?   It's just a field like the rest of these."

Lana stopped and shivered slightly.  "Clark, look at it.  It's weird.  It's just not - natural looking or something."

Clark looked at the field.  It looked fine to him.  Small fruit trees were interspersed with corn and kale and even some herbs, it actually looked pretty idyllic.   "Geez, Lana.  It's fine.  It's just a multi-crop field.  My dad says that multi-cropping is better for the soil, and if you get the species balance right, a symbiotic relationship starts up.   Monocrops just aren't healthy.  And anyway, lots of farming cultures around the world do multi-cropping.  Like, in Ghana, they mix up coffee with fruit trees and--"  He realised he was babbling, and Lana's eyes were glazed.

"That's nice, Clark, but it still gives me a funny feeling.  I just don't want to go through there.  It's not right, it looks weird and it gives me the creeps. Have fun with your grandmother."  Signalling to the horse, she started to move away again.

Clark shrugged and moved on.

The walk through the field was uneventful, although he wondered at the fast growth of the fruit trees.  And maybe they did look a little creepy.  Come to think of it, where were all the birds?  He should mention to his dad that things seemed a little off.  Probably something to do with the meteorites, but he didn't have time to worry about that right now.

By the time the path cleared and he saw his grandmother's cottage, daylight was starting to fade. The cottage looked homey and warm, a soft glow visible from the windows.  He reached the door, and not bothering to knock, opened it and walked in.   In his peripheral vision, he saw the back of his grandmother's head peaking over the top of her favourite wing-backed chair.   Looked like she'd gone wig-free today.  And was her head kind of shinier than usual?  What, had she taken to polishing it or something?   "Hi, grandma!  Mom sent me over with some stuff, I thought I'd help you with dinner.  How's your hip?"

He didn't bother to wait for an answer, taking the basket into the kitchen.   Raising his voice, he continued talking.  "Mom included a couple of bottles of dad's latest wine.  I'll pour you a glass.  It's probably pretty awful, but it might numb the pain!"

He found the corkscrew, opened the bottle, and poured some wine into his grandmother's favourite recycled glass goblet.  The wine shimmered, a deep blood red through the slightly blue glass.  It was pretty, even if it tasted awful.

Holding the glass, he moved towards his grandmother.  The fireplace was roaring, and she was probably dozing.   When he reached the edge of the chair, he leaned down, smiling.  "Here, try this.  What do you want to eat to-- Lex?"

It wasn't his grandmother's shiny, bald head that peaked over the top of her favourite chair.  It was Lex's.  "Lex, what are you doing in my grandmother's house?"

Reaching up to take the wine glass, Lex smiled, his teeth disturbingly white and sharp.  "Actually Clark, it's my house now."

"What?  Where's my grandmother?"

Lex sipped the wine, and made a face.  "Gah.  That wine is awful."  He refocussed on Clark. "Relax. It's not like I ate her."

Ate her?  "Ate her?  What are you talking about? Where is she, Lex?"  He was starting to feel a little freaked out.

Setting the goblet aside, Lex reached to the floor, brought up a briefcase, and took out some forms.   "I bought her land.  I'm looking for a little retreat, someplace homier than the castle for those days I don't want to feel like a crazy, rich recluse."  He handed the forms to Clark.

He quickly looked over the deeds to the house, now owned by one Alexander J. Luthor. "So you just bought my grandmother's house?   Just like that?  And where *is* she?"

Lex was looking at him with a familiar speculative expression.  "You know, Clark, that's a pretty nice sweater."

He blushed.  Something in Lex's tone made him -- hey.   "Lex, you just totally ignored my questions.  So, let's try again.  One - where is my grandmother?  And two, what the hell is going on?"

Lex grinned, his hand automatically reaching for the wine glass before he paused, shuddered, and dropped it back onto his lap.  "You're really easy to get going, you know that Clark?"

Really easy?  What did -- damn.  Distracted again.  He tapped his foot impatiently.

"Ok, one, your grandmother is in a retirement community on the other side of the town.  You know, the Elysian Fields?"

Clark did know.  The community was known for its excellent services, long waiting list and expensive housing.

Lex continued, "I had her driven over today.  Movers will be coming tomorrow to take the things she wants with her.  Incidentally, that wine goblet is one of those things, as is this chair.  She was going to pack things up herself, but I insisted we get someone to do it for her.  She has hip problems, you know."

"Of course I know!  That's why I was coming over today.  I have stuff for her!"  He was starting to feel really annoyed.

"Do they include a magic hip replacement?"

"Shut up, Lex!  As if you just move my grandmother out of her house because you're looking for a 'retreat'.  Geez.  Maybe my dad was right about rich people."

Lex sighed and rolled his eyes.  "Give it a rest, Clark. Your grandmother's health is getting worse, and she can't keep the house up by herself.  This place is pretty isolated, and she was beginning to feel trapped.  Elysian Fields is great for her, she can still live independently, but when she needs help, she has it at her fingertips.   She knows people there, and she can get out and have a social life." Lex paused, smiling reassuringly.  "What I paid her for this place more than covers her living expenses and any medical costs she might incur in the future.  It's more than she would have received on the open market.  I did her a favour, and if you took the time to ask her yourself, she'd say the same thing."

Abruptly, he felt guilty.  With all the mutant problems, school work, helping around the house, and mooning over Lana, he hadn't taken the time to visit as much as he used to.   Neither he nor his parents had realised how lonely his grandmother had been.  "How did you know she was feeling this way?"

"Oh, we met up one day, started talking.  She's quite the character."

She certainly was.  Realising he was still looming over Lex, he moved to sit against the wall.   "So I guess I freaked out a little on you right there."

Lex shrugged.   "No big deal.  It must have been a shock to see me here.  So, what are you going to do now?"

"Well, I was supposed to bring over this basket of stuff, and help my grandmother with dinner.   A surprise visit, you know?  But I guess she's probably getting settled."

"Want to stay for a while?"

"Sure.   Want something to eat?"  When Lex nodded, he went off and made some sandwiches with his mother's fresh bread, bringing them out on a platter.  "Nothing fancy, sorry."  He handed Lex the platter, and returned to his spot on the floor against the wall.  Drawing up his knees, he rested his head against the wall.

They ate, and talked, and eventually Lex went off to open a bottle of decent wine - a bottle his father *hadn't* made -, and even persuaded Clark to have a glass. It was pretty good, and while Lex was pouring him a second glass, Clark noticed how calloused Lex's writing hand was.

"Wow, you sure have some big callouses on your hand."

Lex sipped his wine and grinned that slightly disturbing, sharp-toothed grin again.  "All the better to write binding business contracts with, Clark."

The wine made him bold, and he continued,  "I never noticed before how shiny your head is."

Lex gracefully managed not to choke on his mouthful of wine.  "All the better to distract business rivals with, Clark."

"What?"

Lex grimaced slightly. "Well, they're all so freaked out by the hairless wonder that they sometimes forget that I've got a brain in my shiny, bald head."

Ok.

They chatted some more, and drank a little more wine, Clark went and brought the basket of goodies he'd brought, and they happily dug in.  Eventually Lex said,  "Do you ever think about children's stories?"

Weird.  "In what way?  I mean, I remember having them read to me and all."

Lex poured himself another glass, finishing the bottle.  They both watched as a few deep red drops fell from the bottle into the glass.  "Well, take 'Little Red Riding Hood' for example.  Did you ever realise how sexualised that story is?"

A children's story?  "I think you've had too much to drink, Lex."

Lex waved his glass around, almost spilling some of the wine.  "Come *on*, Clark, think about it.   Young innocent girl, wearing a red cape - red, by the way, in some cultures signals virginity -"

Clark glanced at his new red sweater and blushed.

" - although it could also indicate that she has entered puberty and is therefore marriageable; she goes for a walk in a dangerous place - which is like a rite of passage, entering into adulthood."  Lex sipped at the wine.  "Mmmm. Clark?  Did you walk here through that multiple-crop field?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you think the trees look a little sinister in that field?" Lex didn't let him answer, instead continuing in his recounting of the fairy tale.  "So, she brings some goodies for her grandmother, unsuspecting the way her life is about to change -"

Clark tried to ignore the basket of food between them.

"- and discovers that her grandmother's dead, and look, there's something big and hairy waiting for her in bed.   Which is so obviously a sexual metaphor.  The wolf represents a big, strong, guy, some kind of undesirable mate, a socially unacceptable relationship."

Lex licked his lips slowly, and Clark tried not to stare.

"But, he's attractive, very seductive, at first.   He's like - temptation."  Lex's voice had dropped to an almost-whisper, adding a strange weight to the words.

Idly fingering his glass, Lex stared into the fire briefly, then continued in a normal, almost instructional tone.  "And just as she's about to be eaten - eating and hunger, Clark, are often used cross-culturally as metaphors for sexuality - she gets rescued by a big, strapping, wholesome, hero-type.  Still, she's lost her innocence, she's been tempted, and really, it's a metaphor for losing her sexual innocence."

"Um..."  He turned to the fireplace, pushing at the logs with the handy poker , sending sparks up into the chimney.

"It has some pretty twisted undertones."  Lex laughed a little, a slightly forced sound.

"Yeah."

"It's a warning story, on the surface about wolves, but underneath it's about sex and trust and the kinds of people who are acceptable sexual partners."

"Yeah, I got that Lex."

Lex stood up from the chair, and moved to crouch next to Clark.  "Don't you think it's interesting?"  Lex's breath warmed his ear.

"I think I'll never think about fairy tales the same way again."

Lex laughed, and Clark shivered.  "Good."  Then Lex collapsed against the wall.  "This wine is pretty good."

Clark wasn't entirely sure what to do.  "Uh, Lex..."

Lex started stroking his arm through his sweater, a faint leer on his face.  "You know, this is a really nice,* red* sweater."  His tone was low and husky.

Clark leaned into the touch.

"And did I thank you for the basket of goodies?"  Lex had levered himself so he was hovering just above Clark, face inches away.

"They weren't really for you, Lex."

"And Clark?" Warm breath puffed against Clark's mouth, and his own breath hitched. Lex's lips were awfully red.  It must be the wine.   "Do you really think you should be sharing wine with the wolf?"

Clark tried to ignore the pounding of his heart, concentrating on Lex's teeth.   "My Lex, what big teeth you have."  He smiled his most innocent smile.  After all, that was his role, wasn't it?

"All the better to bite you with, Clark."

Clark let his eyes roam, then slid to his side, pulling Lex with him.  He stroked down Lex's side, then let his hand settle across the noticeable bulge in Lex's pants.  "Hmm, Lex, what a big--"  The rest  of the sentence was cut off by Lex's lips, then his tongue.

Lex rolled Clark onto his back, still kissing.   When they broke for air, Lex whispered, "I'm glad you came over, Clark."

Clark smiled, and reached to pull Lex back down.   "Me too."  He lazily licked Lex's mouth open, and shivered at the scrape of his tongue against teeth. Lex tasted like wine and warmth.  He ran his hands across Lex's ass, enjoying the subsequent moan.

He began contemplating the next step, but he was interrupted by his name being called from outside.  Shit.   "Lex.  Lex!  Get off me."

Lex looked dazed, lips slightly swollen, and eyes half shuttered.  "What?"

"Get  up!  There's someone coming."

"Who?"

And the door to the cottage opened. "Clark? You in here?"

Lex jerked back, and Clark slowly stood.  "Dad.  Hi."

He watched as Lex pulled himself together, hidden from his dad's view by his grandmother's favourite chair.

"Your grandmother called to let us know she'd moved.  Your mother and I wondered if you were still here."

He plastered his most innocent and trustworthy smile, and nodded.  "Yeah, Lex told me what happened.  We started talking, and kind of fell asleep."  He knew he looked sheepish, and hoped his father wouldn't guess the real reason.

Lex chose that moment to get off the floor, smiling smoothly and apologetically.  "Mr.Kent.  I'm sorry for keeping Clark, I'm sure you and Mrs.Kent were worried."

His dad shrugged.  "You should have called, Clark.  Come on, we're all going to visit your grandmother in her new place.  Say goodbye, we'll wait for you in the truck." With that, his dad left, nodding briefly at Lex.

When the door closed, Clark breathed out a sigh of relief, then turned to Lex, who was muttering something about the 'damn woodcutter'.

"Sorry about that."

Lex looked up, and grinned.  "Not your fault.  It was part of the story, right?"

"We're not in a fairy tale, Lex.  It was just bad timing on my dad's part."

Lex moved closer, traced a finger across Clark's lower lip.  "You'd better go or they'll be wondering."

"Yeah.  See you later?"

"I'm staying here tonight.  Come over?"

He grinned broadly.  "Sure."

Clark gathered what remained of the basket of treats.   He waved a little wave, smiling shyly.  Just as he was about to reach the door, Lex called out.

"Oh, and Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell your father I will pay him *not* to make wine, ok?"

Clark grinned.  As if that was ever going to happen.