Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. No superpowers. No washboard abs. No perkiness. No fair.

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Rating: PG

Category: Humour

Otherstuff: I lose another six pounds and I can buy myself a leather coat -- so I'm probably lightheaded from hunger.

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HELP ME, OBI-WAN KENOBI, YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE

by Teand

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"How many times have we seen this movie?" Chloe asked as she dropped down onto the couch and pulled the bowl of popcorn out of Clark's hands.

"Counting this time? Four," Clark told her. "Once at the Talon's last classic scifi night, once at my place, once here, and that time two summers ago when your dad took us to the drive-in for the dusk to dawn Star Wars extravaganza."

Pete reached across him and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl. "Yeah, but I didn't see it that night at the drive-in, I was far too busy with Cindy Lewis to watch the movie."

"Right." Chloe rolled her eyes at Pete's attempt to rewrite his social history. "You spent the night leaning on the outside of her father's car making faces at her through the window."

"We were talking."

"The window was closed."

"You guys want to shut-up," Clark snorted. "Luke's about to meet his father."

As Clark leaned forward to grab his coke off the coffee table, Chloe and Pete exchanged a weighted look behind his back. When Chloe lifted an interrogative eyebrow, Pete shook his head. Well, all right, it was his plan and she could wait if she had to but she hoped he realized she wasn't sitting through one more moment of those damned Ewoks than was absolutely necessary.

On the Ross' new 32 inch TV - the ostensive reason for movie night -- Darth Vader looked down at his son and ponderously intoned, "It is your destiny!"

Pete's thumb came down on the remote, pausing the tape.

"Hey!"

"I just want to make an observation."

"Oh no." Clark's head lolled back against the couch.

Chloe leaned around him and nailed Pete with her best basilisk glare - the one she'd perfected babysitting the MacKensie twins. "Is this going to be like your 'Leia's cleavage needs more screen time' observation? Because if it is, I'm just not up to it right now."

"No." He laid a peculiar emphasis on the vowel. "This is my how come Luke doesn't just say, 'Fuck destiny, Dad. I've got the balls to live my own life.' observation."

"Oh."

Eyes wide, his expression hovering around stunned disbelief, Clark turned to face his friend. "What?"

"I said…"

"Yeah, I heard you. You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

"Why not?"

"Well, because… uh…" Redirecting his gaze back to the figures frozen on the screen, Clark ran both hands up through his hair. "Because his father's Darth Vader!"

"So? What difference does that make? And besides, Obi Wan was doing the same thing. Luke, you have to become this. You gotta become that. What a load."

"Chloe…?"

"Sorry, Clark." Frowning thoughtfully, Chloe flipped her bangs back off her face. "Pete's got a point. Luke's got to make his own destiny, he can't let his father - either of his fathers - run his life."

"But he's got…" His eyes flicking from Chloe to Pete to the screen, Clark searched for words and found only expectant pauses. "…a destiny," he finished lamely. "He has, you know, powers."

Chloe snorted and bounced a piece of popcorn off Clark's head. "That's a responsibility, not a destiny. So Luke can do things other people can't; big whup. Those abilities don't define who he is - who either Luke is."

"Either Luke?" He glanced over at Pete who shrugged.

"She's lost me."

"The Luke in the first movie being all destiny-ed by Obi Wan is not the Luke in the third movie being destiny-ed by Darth Vader. The first, is like this naïve farmboy and the second is the really together guy with a hot looking black wardrobe and a great ass."

"I knew she was looking at Luke's ass! Didn't I tell you she was looking at Luke's… OW!" Rubbing his arm, Pete glared across Clark at Chloe who, in spite of the rather large barrier between them, had managed a good solid punch. Both Clark and Chloe ignored him.

"But Luke owes Obi Wan for, you know, taking him in when his family was killed and teaching him how to use his powers so he doesn't hurt anyone!"

Bouncing another piece of popcorn off Clark's head, Chloe snorted. "He owes Obi Wan his thanks, Clark, not his future. If he takes up the obligations of his power it has to be because he decided to do it, not because he was blackmailed by kindness."

Clark stared at nothing for a long moment before asking, "And the other Luke, the one with Darth Vader?"

Pete's turn to snort. "Big D was a sperm doner, nothing more. That doesn't make him a father and Luke doesn't owe him squat. He starts thinking he owes him for sperm and he's going to become him."

"Can you stop mentioning sperm and Darth Vader in the same sentence?" Chloe demanded with a shudder. Doing-the-right-thing or not, she had her limits.

"All I'm saying is that Big D's got nothing to offer Luke but some lame, second hand power-tripping shit."

"Agreed."

"So, fuck destiny."

"Still agreeing. Because ultimately…" She emphasized every syllable. "..a person's got to chose their own destiny, whether it's power or responsibility or even another person."

Clark, who'd been sitting staring at the screen, brow furrowed, suddenly jerked around to face her. "You really believe that?"

"Yeah, Clark, I really believe that."

And around to face Pete. "Pete?"

"Hey, I'll thank you to remember who brought the whole thing up."

"Right." And back to face the television again. "Uh, guys. I've got to go. I, uh, just remembered, uh, something I've got to do…"

And if he was gone just a little too quickly, both Pete and Chloe were practiced at not noticing.

As the Ross' screen door closed behind the blur of a flannel clad back, Pete rolled his eyes. "Geez, you could practically see the light bulb go on. Naïve farmboy, really together guy with the hot black wardrobe; you think you were subtle enough there?"

"I reference the light bulb. This is Clark. Sweet guy, but if you want him to get the point, you have to slam it into his head with a two by four."

"Yeah, I guess. I just wish we could have come up with another solution besides…" One finger in his mouth, Pete mimed gagging. "…Lex Luthor."

Chloe looked up from picking edible pieces out of the unpopped kernels on the bottom of the popcorn bowl and her lip curled. "Yeah, me too, but there isn't one. We just can't protect him any more, Pete."

"Hey! I got him through grade school on my own! And the wall of weird was a great distraction!" he added magnanimously as her eyes narrowed. "Stroke of genius screening him with all the other weirdoes around here."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it? But the sort of stuff he's doing now is way beyond what we can cover up. He needs someone with…"

"Half a brain," Pete said bluntly. "Who the hell hides a space ship in a storm cellar in Kansas? It's not like the place is never gonna be used; we've got a freakin' tornado season!"

She sighed, half in agreement, half in a less recognizable emotion. "He needs Lex. And Lex needs him. And they need each other. I mean, one more long, meaningful, wordless look between the two of them… I was getting ready to bang their stupid guy heads together."

"I, personally, was getting ready to hurl." At Chloe's raised eyebrow he frowned. "I've dealt with the whole guy on guy thing. Mostly." The eyebrow rose higher. "Okay, I'm still dealing. It's just that Lex is…" He shrugged and pointed at the television. "Once you turn to the Darkside, forever will it dominate your destiny."

"Oh please. Forever lasted until Luke turned his baby blues on dear old dad and Luke has nothing on full wattage Clarkness."

"Good point." He thumbed the play button. "You really think our not so subliminal suggestions worked?"

"I really hope so, because I'd hate to think we watched this lame-ass movie again for nothing."

"If Clark's Luke, you know who that makes us, don't you?"

"Well, since I'm Han Solo, that would make you Princess Leia…"

--end--