Meteor Freak
Chapter 6: Save The Date
Date: Saturday, August 20, 2011.
Location: Luthor Manor, Smallville, Kansas
The black Porsche purred as Tyson guided it along the driveway leading to Luthor Manor. Tall oaks lined the path as he rounded the final curve revealing the sprawling stone edifice that seemed transported straight from the Scottish highlands, complete with turrets and Gothic windows. He eased the car onto the cobblestone circle, where a fountain featuring a marble angel dominated the center. The mansion's gray stone facade was softened by climbing ivy and the warm glow of the early morning sun. Perfectly manicured hedges bordered expansive lawns that stretched toward a distant tree line. He parked among a collection of service vehicles, including a florist van from Nell's shop, catering trucks, and rental company vehicles. Workers streamed in and out of the massive oak doors propped open at the entrance, carrying flowers, chairs, and various decorations.
Tyson stepped out of the Porsche, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and carefully extracted two large cardboard boxes.
The mansion's entrance hall stretched upward to a vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate woodwork. Workers hung garlands and arranged flowers along the grand staircase. Tyson blended in with the flow of activity, nodding confidently to anyone who glanced his way.
After wandering through several corridors lined with oil paintings and antique furniture, Tyson spotted a familiar face.
"Clark," he called out, adjusting his grip on the boxes.
"Tyson, hey. Need a hand with those?"
"I've got it," Tyson replied, shifting his weight to better balance the load. "I could use some directions, though. Where's the wedding party at?"
Clark gestured down a hallway to their right. "This way. Lex is in the piano room, going over last-minute details."
They walked through a corridor lined with stained glass windows. Clark pushed open a set of double doors, revealing a spacious room dominated by a grand piano. Tall windows offered views of the estate's gardens, where workers were setting up rows of white chairs on the lawn. Lex Luthor stood near the piano, reviewing papers with a woman holding a clipboard. He looked up as they entered, his expression shifting from concentration to mild surprise.
"Tyson," Lex said, setting down the papers. "I didn't expect to see you this early."
"Morning, Lex," he replied, placing the boxes on a nearby table. "Hope you don't mind the intrusion."
Lex approached, eyeing the boxes. "What's this?"
"I promised Kara breakfast, but since this was a party, I couldn't bring just for her. There's enough for everyone, fresh croissants, danishes, and coffee from that bakery on Main Street, sandwiches from the deli, and a box of joe from Dunkin. Plus apple juice, and orange juice if the ladies want mimosas, but you'll have to supply the alcohol, they wouldn't sell it to me for some reason."
"Thoughtful," Lex remarked.
The doors opened again, and Kara entered. She wore a silk robe in a soft shade of blue that complemented her eyes. Tyson froze mid-motion, taking in the sight of her. "Man, I'm holding back a whistle because I don't want to be disrespectful in front of your brother."
Kara fixed him with a deadpan stare. "I'm not dressed or wearing makeup. My hair isn't done. This is just how I woke up."
"And that's exactly my point," Tyson replied. "You're still devastatingly gorgeous. The makeup artists will have nothing to do today except admire their easiest job ever."
Kara smiled approvingly as she approached, peering into the boxes. "You remembered breakfast."
"I keep my promises," Tyson said, handing her a coffee cup. He turned to Lex with an exaggerated serious expression. "If things fall through today, I'm totally proposing to your sister. Do I have your permission?"
Lex's eyes narrowed slightly, but his amusement was plain. Reaching for a pastry, he examined it before taking a bite. The flaky crust crumbled perfectly, revealing layers of buttery dough.
"Depends on how good breakfast is," he replied, taking a bite from the pastry in his hand.
They gathered around a mahogany table near the windows, settling into high-backed chairs. Tyson unpacked the boxes, revealing neatly arranged pastries on paper doilies and sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. He set out cups and napkins and poured coffee from the box.
"I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I got a variety," Tyson explained, arranging everything on the table. "The chocolate croissants are still warm."
Clark reached for a danish, nodding appreciatively at the spread. "This beats the toast I had earlier."
The doors opened again, and a striking woman with auburn hair entered the room. She wore a silk robe similar to Kara's but in white.
"There you are," she said, approaching Lex, who stood to greet her.
"Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?" Tyson asked, glancing between them.
Lex slipped an arm around Desiree's waist. "Only once she's ready. After breakfast, we'll split, and I'll stay in my wing so that we don't see each other."
"Superstitious?" Desiree asked.
"Just respectful of tradition," Tyson replied with a shrug.
"Ah, thanks for the breakfast."
"Any time, teach," Tyson said, pulling out a chair for her.
They settled into breakfast, passing food around the table. Desiree selected a croissant and some fruit, while Kara helped herself to a sandwich.
"So I'm in the deli," Tyson began, leaning back in his chair, "and I say to the guy, let me get four bacon egg and cheese, two on bagels, two on rolls, salt, pepper, ketchup. Then four more with sausage." He took a sip of coffee, continuing. "He looks at me like I'm crazy and says, 'Slow down and say that again.' I'm like, what do you mean? And I repeated the order. He says, 'slower.' I'm like, you don't make bacon, egg, and cheese here? He's like, 'No, where are you from?' I say New York. He's like, 'well, fancy city guy, you're going to have to give me a few minutes to catch up.'"
Tyson shook his head, chuckling. "I'm really glad I went early instead of waiting until the last minute. The guy had to call his wife to come help him."
Kara reached for her coffee, her fingers brushing against Tyson's as she did. "Speaking of needing help, are you sticking around while everyone gets ready before the ceremony? It would be great for us to spend some time together."
"I'm not sure I should be around the bridal party while you're getting together and stuff," Tyson replied, glancing at Desiree. "Unless you want to use me as the bridal assistant, or something."
"I think my fiancé might object to a male assistant helping me dress," Desiree said with a laugh.
"Good point," Tyson acknowledged, "Maybe just Kara's assistant, then."
"You should probably stick with us," Lex suggested, gesturing between himself and Clark. "We could use the company while the women make themselves even more beautiful than they already are."
"Smooth," Kara commented, rolling her eyes at her brother.
"I learned from the best," Lex replied, raising his coffee cup in a mock toast.
Desiree checked her watch, her expression shifting to one of mild concern. "The hair and makeup team should be here any minute. We should probably finish up."
"Don't rush on my account," Tyson said. "There's plenty of time before the ceremony, right?"
"Not for what these artists have planned," Desiree said, standing from the table. "Apparently, perfection takes hours."
"You've got a head start," Lex said, rising to kiss her cheek, but Desiree turned his head, and their lips met. Tyson was sure he saw a pink mist expelled from her mouth to be breathed into his nose and absorbed through Lex's mouth. He squinted and looked at Kara to see if she noticed, but it didn't seem that she had.
Kara finished her coffee and stood as well. "I should go too."
As the women prepared to leave, Tyson began gathering the breakfast remains, stacking empty cups, and folding the boxes.
"Leave that," Lex said. "The staff will take care of it."
"Force of habit," Tyson replied, stopping mid-motion. "My mom always said leave places cleaner than you found them."
"Sound advice," Lex commented. "But today you're a guest. Act like one."
Just as Desiree and Kara were about to leave the room, the double doors swung open dramatically. A man strode in, his presence filling the space instantly. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his long hair swept back from his face, and his beard neatly trimmed. Behind him trailed four men in equally expensive suits, each carrying leather portfolios.
"I see the festivities have already begun," Lionel announced. His eyes swept over the breakfast spread, lingering momentarily on Desiree before fixing on his son. "A word, Lex."
"Father. I wasn't expecting you until the ceremony."
"Clearly," Lionel replied, gesturing to the lawyers who fanned out behind him like a tactical formation. "Which is precisely why I'm here now. Before any... irreversible decisions are made."
Desiree stepped closer to Lex, her hand finding his arm. "Mr. Luthor, it's nice to meet you at last."
Lionel acknowledged her with a curt nod but didn't shift his focus from Lex. "My legal team has prepared the necessary documentation." He snapped his fingers, and one of the lawyers stepped forward, opening his portfolio to reveal a thick document. "A standard prenuptial agreement. Nothing excessive, merely protecting what's rightfully yours, and by extension, the family's."
"We've discussed this," Lex said, his voice level but with an undercurrent of steel. "There won't be a prenuptial agreement."
Lionel's laugh was brief and devoid of humor. "Don't be absurd. No Luthor will ever marry without proper financial protections in place."
"Then I'll be the first," Lex replied.
Tyson exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Clark, both clearly wishing they were elsewhere. Kara remained by the door, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with annoyance and resignation.
"Perhaps we should discuss this privately," Desiree suggested.
"There's nothing to discuss," Lionel countered. "And with all due respect, Ms. Atkins, this is a family matter."
"She is family," Lex said firmly. "Or will be in a few hours."
Lionel's eyes narrowed. "A few hours that could save you years of litigation and millions in assets." He turned to address Desiree directly. "Surely you understand the practicality of such an arrangement. It's simply good business."
"This isn't business," Lex interjected. "This is my marriage."
"Everything is business," Lionel replied sharply. "That's a lesson I thought you'd learned by now. Do you have any idea what you're risking? LuthorCorp holdings, personal assets, properties, all potentially divided if things go south."
"They won't."
Lionel scoffed. "Your optimism would be charming if it weren't so dangerously naive." He gestured to the lawyers again. "These men have prepared a fair and equitable agreement. Ms. Atkins receives generous provisions in the event of a dissolution, while core assets remain protected."
"I don't want his money," Desiree said indignantly.
"They never do. Until they do."
Lex stepped forward, positioning himself between Desiree and his father. "That's enough."
"No, it isn't nearly enough," Lionel countered, his voice rising. "I didn't build this empire to watch you gamble it away on a whim. Three weeks, Lex. You've known this woman for three weeks."
"I know all I need to know," Lex insisted.
"Like you knew all you needed to know about any of the other women who've managed to cloud your judgment temporarily?" Lionel's voice carried a sharp edge. "I'm not trying to stop your wedding. If you want to get married, fine. But I won't stand by while you damn the family legacy through sheer stubbornness."
"It's my legacy to risk," Lex replied coldly.
"Is it? Every advantage you've ever had, every opportunity, every door that's opened for you. All exist because of what I built. What I sacrificed." The tension in the room was palpable. "Sign the agreement, Lex," Lionel continued, his tone softening slightly into something almost paternal. "Not because I demand it, but because it's the sensible thing to do. Because, despite what you may think, I want to protect you."
"From what? From happiness? From making my own choices?"
"From yourself," Lionel answered without hesitation. "From the impulsivity that has repeatedly led you astray." He gestured toward Desiree. "No offense intended to the bride, of course."
"Plenty taken," Desiree muttered.
Lionel continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Marriage is a contract, Lex. The most binding one you'll ever enter. And like any contract, it requires proper terms and conditions."
"Our terms are between us," Lex replied firmly.
"This stubbornness will be your undoing," Lionel said, shaking his head. "When this ends, and statistically speaking, it likely will, you'll be glad you listened." He signaled to the lawyers, who closed their portfolios in unison. "The agreement will remain available until the ceremony. I suggest you reconsider."
After his tirade finished, Kara stepped forward from her position near the door. "Hi, Dad."
Lionel's expression transformed instantly, the hard lines of his face softening as he turned toward his daughter. "Hi, sweetie." His voice carried a warmth that had been absent moments before. He crossed to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You look beautiful, even in preparation."
"Thanks," Kara replied.
Lionel's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned back to Lex, his expression hardening once more, all business again. "The offer stands. Don't make me intervene more directly."
Lionel's attention shifted to Tyson, his eyes narrowing with the predatory focus of a hawk. "And who might this be?" he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"This is Tyson," Kara said, moving to stand beside him. "My date for the wedding."
Tyson extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Luthor."
Lionel regarded the offered hand for a beat longer than comfortable before accepting it. His grip was firm, testing. "Tyson... just Tyson? No last name?"
"None that I use," Tyson replied evenly, matching Lionel's grip without flinching.
"Interesting," Lionel said, releasing his hand. "And what brings a man with no surname to Smallville? Business? Pleasure?" His eyes narrowed. "Or perhaps something more... opportunistic?"
Clark shifted uncomfortably, while Lex watched the exchange with guarded interest.
"School, actually," Tyson answered. "I transferred to Smallville High a few weeks ago."
"A high school student?" Lionel's eyebrows rose as he glanced at Kara. "Rather young company you're keeping these days."
"He's a senior, in my class," Kara replied coolly. "And he's been quite the addition to Smallville. Already made the football team and won the game for us this week, helped save a few lives, and managed to impress both Lex and me."
"Is that so?" Lionel's attention returned to Tyson, now more calculating. "Quite the resume for someone who just arrived. Tell me, where did you transfer from?"
"East Coast."
"Military family?" Lionel probed.
"Nope."
Lionel scrutinized him like a prosecutor sizing up a witness. "And your parents? What do they do when they're not... moving around?"
"Dad, this isn't an interrogation," Kara interjected.
"Merely getting acquainted with your companion," Lionel replied smoothly. "After all, any young man escorting a Luthor should expect a certain level of scrutiny."
"It's fine," Tyson assured Kara before addressing her adopted father. "My parents aren't in the picture anymore. I'm on my own."
"I see. And how do you support yourself? Smallville isn't known for its robust youth employment opportunities."
"I was left a small inheritance," Tyson replied simply. "Money travels farther in Kansas than New York."
"He's very resourceful," Kara added. "Tyson's actually buying the theater downtown. He's planning to restore it."
This caught Lionel's attention. "Real estate investment at your age? That's quite ambitious."
"I believe in building for the future."
"A philosophy many claim but few practice." He paused, studying Tyson more carefully. "And what exactly are your intentions regarding my daughter?"
"Dad!" Kara exclaimed.
"It's a fair question," Lionel countered without looking away from Tyson.
"To show her a good time at the wedding. Beyond that, I hope to get to know her better, if she's interested."
"He's been a perfect gentleman," Kara assured her father, stepping closer to Tyson. "And regardless of how today goes, we're going on a date." She promised, looking at Tyson with a smile that carried her veiled meaning. "I'm thinking something less formal. Maybe that drive you promised me?"
"I'd like that," Tyson replied, returning her smile.
Lionel observed their exchange with the careful assessment of a chess player evaluating an unexpected move. "Well, young man, you've certainly made an impression on my daughter. That's not easily done."
"She's made quite an impression on me, too," Tyson said.
"Kara has always shown excellent judgment. In most matters, at least." His gaze drifted meaningfully toward Lex.
Desiree, who had been watching the interaction with growing impatience, stepped closer. "Mr. Luthor, perhaps we could return to the matter of the prenuptial agreement. I understand your concerns, but I assure you they're unnecessary. I love your son, not his money."
"A sentiment expressed by every fortune hunter throughout history," Lionel replied dismissively.
"That's unfair," Desiree protested, color rising in her cheeks. "I have a career, my own life. I don't need Lex's wealth."
"And yet you refuse to sign a simple document that would prove exactly that," Lionel countered.
"I refuse because it suggests a lack of trust at the very foundation of our marriage," Desiree argued. "If Lex doesn't believe we need it, why should I contradict him?"
"Curious how adamantly you oppose a standard practice among people of means. One might almost think you had something to hide."
"Or something to protect," Desiree shot back. "Like my dignity and the integrity of our relationship."
"Integrity," Lionel repeated, the word dripping with skepticism. "Three weeks from meeting to marriage suggests many things, Ms. Atkins, but careful consideration of integrity isn't among them."
"You don't know anything about us," Desiree insisted.
"I know my son," Lionel replied coldly. He tilted his head, studying her more carefully. "Tell me, what exactly is it about you that has so thoroughly captivated Lex in such a remarkably short time?"
Desiree's posture changed as the tension in the room escalated. Her breathing quickened, becoming more pronounced with each passing moment. Tyson noticed her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Mr. Luthor," she said, her voice strained with forced politeness, "I understand your concerns as a father, but—"
"Do you?" Lionel interrupted in a dismissive tone. "I doubt that very much. The concerns of a father building a legacy extend far beyond what someone in your... position... could comprehend."
Desiree inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. As she exhaled, Tyson saw the faint pink mist streaming from her mouth and nose. Unlike normal breath in cold air, this vapor had a distinct rosy hue and seemed to move with purpose rather than dissipating naturally. It lingered around her like a cloud, invisible to everyone else in the room but unmistakably clear to him.
"What the—" Tyson gasped, taking an instinctive step backward. He drew glances from the others, but their attention quickly returned to the confrontation between Lionel and Desiree.
In his startled inhale, Tyson saw some of the pink mist seep into his mouth. A moment of panic gripped him as he realized he'd breathed in whatever Desiree was exhaling. He braced himself, expecting some immediate effect. Mind control, disorientation, something to match the appearance of the mist.
But nothing happened.
No foggy thoughts, no sudden urge to agree with Desiree, no loss of control. He blinked, confused, then took another careful breath. Still nothing. Meanwhile, the pink mist continued to flow from Desiree, gradually expanding to fill more of the space between her and Lionel.
"Perhaps I've been too harsh," Lionel said suddenly, his tone softening in a way that seemed entirely out of character given his previous stance. He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Marriage is, after all, about trust."
Clark's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this abrupt change. He glanced at Tyson with a confused expression, as if checking whether his friend had noticed the sudden shift in Lionel's demeanor.
"I'm glad you see it that way," Desiree replied, her voice honeyed now, the earlier frustration gone. More pink mist escaped with her words, drifting toward Lionel. "Trust is exactly what Lex and I are building together."
"Yes, trust," Lionel echoed, nodding as if this had been his position all along. "And if my son trusts you implicitly, perhaps I should extend the same courtesy."
Lex looked as surprised as Clark at this concession, but quickly recovered. "Thank you, Dad. That means a lot coming from you."
The lawyers exchanged uncertain glances, clearly not prepared for this reversal. One of them cleared his throat. "Mr. Luthor, the documents—"
"Won't be necessary today," Lionel finished for him, waving a dismissive hand. "Pack them up. We'll revisit the matter another time."
"Another time?" the lawyer repeated, clearly confused.
"Yes, another time," Lionel confirmed, his tone suggesting the matter was closed. "Let's not spoil the day with legal formalities."
Tyson watched in fascination as the mist continued to emanate from Desiree, now forming tendrils that seemed to wrap around Lionel's head when he spoke. Each time Lionel inhaled, the mist disappeared into his nose and mouth, and his expression grew progressively more amenable. Kara's eyes narrowed as she observed her father's uncharacteristic behavior. She glanced at Tyson, her expression questioning. He caught her eye and declined his head slightly, a subtle signal that he was aware something strange was happening but remained unaffected.
"Well, this is unexpected," Lex remarked, studying his father with suspicion. "What brought on this change of heart?"
"Can't a father want his son's happiness?" Lionel replied, placing a hand on Lex's shoulder. "I've been thinking about what truly matters. Family. Connection." His words carried a sincerity that seemed genuine despite the supernatural influence Tyson knew was at work.
"Family," Desiree echoed, smiling warmly. "I'm so looking forward to being part of yours, Mr. Luthor."
"Lionel, please," he corrected her, returning the smile. "We're to be family, after all."
Clark shifted uncomfortably, his gaze moving between the participants with growing confusion. He caught Tyson's eye, silently questioning what was happening, but Tyson merely shrugged, not wanting to draw attention to his awareness of the situation.
"I believe I owe you an apology, Desiree. My concerns about your intentions were unfounded. Anyone can see how devoted you are to my son."
"Apology accepted," Desiree replied graciously, though Tyson noticed a triumphant gleam in her eye.
The lawyers began packing away their documents, clearly confused by the turn of events but unwilling to question Lionel Luthor's directives. They murmured among themselves, casting occasional glances at their employer.
"Now, I believe we've taken enough time away from the wedding preparations," Lionel announced, clapping his hands together. "Desiree, you must have much to do before the ceremony."
"Yes, I should get started with hair and makeup," Desiree agreed. She placed a kiss on Lex's cheek. "I'll see you at the altar."
"I'll be the one in the tuxedo," Lex replied.
As Desiree prepared to leave with Kara, she paused beside Tyson. "Thanks for the breakfast."
"My pleasure. Looking forward to the ceremony."
Kara approached Tyson, leaning close. "Everything okay?" she whispered, her voice too low for the others to hear.
"Fine," Tyson assured her quietly. "We'll talk later."
She nodded, her expression relieved but still concerned. "Could you bring us a snack after makeup?" she asked before following Desiree out of the room.
"I'll try to find something that won't smudge your lipstick," he called to her back, agreeing.
— Meteor Freak —
Kara sat in a plush chair facing a vanity mirror as a stylist applied a subtle smoky shadow to her eyelids. Beside her, Desiree reclined in a similar chair, eyes closed in relaxation as another stylist worked delicate curls into the ends of her hair.
"Just a touch more highlight on the cheekbones," Desiree instructed, opening one eye to assess her reflection. The makeup artist nodded, adding a shimmer of gold to her already radiant skin. "Perfect. I want Lex to be absolutely stunned when he sees me walking down that aisle."
The stylist finished another curl in Desiree's hair, pinning it loosely to the side. "For a last-minute wedding, this is surprisingly well-organized."
Desiree smiled, her red lips curving upward. "When you know what you want, why wait?"
A soft knock interrupted their conversation. Both women turned toward the door.
"Are you modest?" Tyson called from the hallway.
Kara glanced at Desiree, noting they were both still wrapped in silk robes over their undergarments. She caught Desiree's eye, and the bride nodded.
"Come on in, Tyson," Kara called back, adjusting her robe slightly higher on her shoulders.
The door opened slowly, revealing Tyson balancing a tray with several champagne flutes and a pitcher of orange juice.
"Mimosas?" he offered, raising the tray slightly.
Desiree laughed. "Maybe you could actually be the bridal assistant. You seem to have a knack for anticipating needs."
Tyson chuckled as he set the tray down on a nearby table. "I brought the orange juice earlier," he explained, gesturing to the pitcher. "The champagne is on the house. Literally. I snatched it from the cellar." He winked conspiratorially. "They really should lock the doors in this place."
"Scandalous," Desiree said playfully, extending her hand for a glass. "I like your style."
Tyson poured the drinks, handing the first glass to Desiree, careful not to touch her fingers as she accepted it.
"To new beginnings," Desiree proposed, raising her glass.
"And extended family," Kara added, accepting her own mimosa from Tyson.
"Cheers," Tyson said, taking a small sip from his glass.
The stylists excused themselves to gather additional supplies, leaving the three alone in the luxurious suite. Tyson leaned against the wall, observing as Desiree returned to the mirror to inspect her makeup.
"So, Tyson," Desiree began, "You must be quite the charmer to land a date to my wedding so quickly."
Tyson glanced at Kara, who smiled enigmatically over the rim of her glass. "I think she took pity on me, honestly. New kid in town and all that."
"Hardly," Kara countered.
"You made quite the impression in your first week. The whole scarecrow incident, saving people from fires. You're practically a local hero already." Desiree noted. "Smallville seems to breed the most interesting young men."
He moved to refill the bride's nearly empty glass. "Speaking of interesting, how did you and Lex meet? It seems like quite the whirlwind romance."
"Sometimes when you know, you just know. Chemistry is a powerful thing."
"Chemistry," Tyson repeated thoughtfully. "You being a biology teacher and all, I guess you'd understand that better than most."
Desiree laughed."The human body is capable of remarkable things when the right... stimuli are applied."
The stylist returned with a jeweled hairpin for Desiree's updo. As she worked it into the bride's dark locks, Tyson moved closer, pretending to admire the intricate work.
"That's beautiful. Is it a family heirloom?"
"A gift from Lex," Desiree replied. "He has exquisite taste. Could you pour me another? Wedding jitters and all that." Tyson obliged.
After another refill, he turned to Kara, his eyes communicating something beyond his casual words. "Foot massage? Help you relax before your maid of honor speech?"
Kara raised a skeptical eyebrow. Tyson gave her a meaningful look that silently said just go along with it. "That would be... nice," she answered, extending her legs toward the ottoman in front of her chair.
Tyson knelt down, taking one of her feet in his hands. He started gently, his thumbs pressing into her arch. Gradually, he increased the pressure, working his way from her heel to her toes. He knew she could handle it. Her Kryptonian physiology made her virtually impervious, but he was curious how far he could push before she reacted.
He dug his thumbs deeper into her soles, applying pressure that would have been excruciating for a normal human. Kara remained unbothered, her face betraying only mild relaxation. Emboldened, he channeled a hint of his healing energy through his fingertips, letting it flow into her skin.
The effect was immediate. Kara let out an undignified grunt-moan that echoed in the quiet room, her eyes widening in surprise at her own reaction.
Desiree glanced over, her cheeks flushed from the champagne. She let out a small laugh, covering her mouth with manicured fingers. "I'm just going to pretend I'm not your teacher right now," she said, taking another sip of her mimosa.
Tyson continued working on Kara's feet, occasionally releasing small pulses of healing energy that caused her to make soft, involuntary noises. Her eyes narrowed at him, communicating both annoyance and enjoyment at the situation he'd created.
After several minutes, Desiree set her empty glass down with a delicate clink. "Me next?" she asked, her voice carrying a slight slur.
"Sure," Tyson replied casually, releasing Kara's foot and moving toward the bride-to-be.
Desiree extended her legs, wiggling her toes in anticipation. Tyson took her right foot in his hands, noting the perfect pedicure. He began with gentle pressure, working his thumbs along the arch of her foot.
"God, that feels amazing," Desiree murmured, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.
Tyson released a small amount of healing energy, just enough to make her muscles relax further. He felt her foot go limp in his hands as tension melted away. Slowly, methodically, he increased the healing flow, watching as Desiree's breathing deepened and her guard lowered. With his left hand continuing the massage, he reached with his right toward the pocket where his locket rested. The small lead container felt cool against his fingertips as he discreetly pulled it out.
Tyson flipped the locket open with his thumb, exposing the glowing green meteor rock within. He positioned his hand so the rock was hidden from Desiree's view but fully exposed to his palm. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kara flinch away.
He unleashed a controlled current of electricity through his fingertips into Desiree's foot. Simultaneously, he channeled as much healing energy as he could muster, using it as a mask for the electrical current. The combination created a pleasant buzzing numbness that spread up through Desiree's leg.
"Mmm, that tingles," she murmured, her eyes still closed. "What are you doing?"
"Pressure point technique," Tyson replied smoothly. "Helps with circulation."
As the dual energies flowed through Desiree's body, Tyson concentrated, extending his awareness beyond his fingertips. He sensed another energy signature, one with a pinkish quality in his mind's eye.
Her power.
Tyson adjusted his electrical current. Like a fisherman casting a line, he sent tendrils of his own power to touch hers, testing its resistance. The energies connected. Carefully, he began to draw the energy toward himself, using his electricity as a conduit. He visualized pulling a thread from a tapestry, gently so as not to disturb the whole cloth. The pink energy resisted at first. Tyson increased the healing flow to mask his true intentions, making Desiree sigh with pleasure.
"You have magic hands," she mumbled, the alcohol and relaxation making her voice thick.
"Just finding all the right spots," Tyson replied, maintaining his concentration.
The energy began to yield, thin strands of it separating from Desiree and flowing into Tyson through the electrical connection he'd established. With each pulse, he drew more of the pinkish energy from her, storing it within himself alongside the other powers he'd collected. Desiree shifted slightly in her chair, her brow furrowing momentarily as if sensing something amiss. Tyson immediately adjusted, slowing the extraction and increasing the healing flow to compensate. Her features relaxed again, the momentary discomfort forgotten.
"How long until the ceremony?" Kara asked, providing a distraction.
"About an hour," Desiree replied. "Plenty of time to enjoy this."
Tyson continued the delicate process, drawing out the strange energy in small amounts. It felt like siphoning honey through a straw; slow, deliberate work that required patience.
"Your hands are absolutely magic," Desiree sighed, her head tilted back against the chair. "Now I understand what Kara sees in you."
"If you only knew," Kara replied dryly.
As the minutes passed, Tyson sensed the flow diminishing. The once-abundant energy had reduced to a trickle, then to mere droplets. He probed deeper with his electrical sense, searching for any remaining reservoirs of power within her. Desiree's breathing had grown deep and even, her body completely relaxed under his ministrations. The combination of champagne, relaxation, and the subtle drain of her power had left her in a state of pleasant drowsiness. Her eyelids fluttered occasionally, fighting to stay open. Tyson grabbed the remnants of her power and withdrew it. He maintained the healing energy for a moment longer, using it to smooth over any disruption his extraction might have caused to her system. Finally, he released her foot, setting it gently back on the ottoman.
"All done," he announced, his voice deliberately casual as he rose to his feet. "Sorry, ladies, but I really need to get dressed before the ceremony."
Desiree blinked slowly, coming back to full awareness. She wiggled her toes experimentally, a look of mild confusion crossing her features. "That was... so nice," she murmured, reaching for her glass only to find it empty.
Tyson gathered the empty glasses onto the tray, stacking them neatly. "Good luck with the rest of your preparations. I'm sure everything will go smoothly."
Kara's expression remained questioning, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. Tyson responded with a slight smirk and a deliberate wink before stepping into the hallway, the tray of empty glasses balanced in his hands.
"See you at the altar," he called back cheerfully, letting the door close behind him.
— Meteor Freak —
White chairs were arranged in neat rows facing an elegant white pergola draped with cascading white roses and purple wisteria. A string quartet positioned discreetly to one side played soft classical music as guests settled into their seats.
Tyson adjusted his tie. He'd never attended a wedding hosted by billionaires before. Thankfully, the hastily donned suit fit perfectly, thanks to Lex's tailor, at Kara's insistence. He took his seat near the front, nodding politely to the other guests, a mix of Metropolis elite and Smallville locals who seemed as out of place as he felt.
A hush fell over the gathering as Lionel Luthor appeared at the end of the white carpet runner that served as an aisle. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his long hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Despite the occasion, his face remained impassive, revealing nothing of his thoughts about his son's hasty marriage. He took his seat in the front row, crossing one leg over the other.
The string quartet transitioned to a new piece, something classical that Tyson didn't recognize but sounded appropriately solemn. All heads turned as Lex Luthor emerged from the mansion. He wore a white tuxedo jacket over black trousers. His expression was one of joy. Lex walked slowly toward the pergola, stopping to shake hands with a few guests along the way. When he reached the front, he exchanged a brief, tense nod with his father before taking his position beneath the floral canopy. The officiant, a distinguished older man in formal attire, stood ready with an open book in his hands.
Next came Clark Kent escorting Kara down the aisle. Clark looked uncomfortable but handsome in his tuxedo, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket perfectly. Beside him, Kara was radiant in the blue dress that she'd picked out with Tyson. It was shorter than a traditional bridesmaid dress, but it complemented her blue eyes and blonde hair. They walked arm in arm, Kara's hand resting lightly on Clark's forearm.
Tyson caught her eye as she passed his row. She gave him a subtle look. He responded with a reassuring smile. When they reached the front, Clark and Kara separated. Clark moved to stand behind Lex as his best man; Kara took her position on the opposite side as maid of honor.
The quartet finished their piece, and a moment of silence fell over the gathering. Then, the musicians began the traditional wedding march, and all guests rose to their feet, turning toward the back of the aisle.
Desiree appeared in the doorway of the mansion, a vision in white. Her dress was surprisingly traditional. A fitted bodice with delicate lace overlay that flowed into a full skirt. A cathedral-length veil floated behind her, catching the late afternoon breeze. She carried a bouquet of lilies tied with white ribbon.
As she began her slow procession, smiling at guests as she passed. The walk seemed to take forever, each step measured and deliberate. Finally, Desiree reached the front. Lex stepped forward to take her hand, his face transformed by a genuine smile. He guided her through the final few steps to stand before the officiant.
"You look beautiful," Lex whispered, just loud enough for those in the front rows to hear.
"Thank you," Desiree replied.
The officiant cleared his throat and gestured for the guests to be seated. His request was followed by the rustle of fabric and creak of chairs as everyone settled back into their places.
"Dearly beloved," the officiant began. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Alexander Joseph Luthor and Desiree Atkins in holy matrimony."
"Marriage," the officiant continued, "is a solemn institution not to be entered into lightly, but with reverence and deliberation."
Tyson's mind wandered, he didn't care much for typical wedding ceremonies. He refocused as the officiant said, "If anyone can show just cause why these two should not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."
A tense silence fell over the gathering.
"I'm sorry, but I have something to say." Every head turned toward the source.
Chloe Sullivan.
She stood in the aisle seat of the fifth row with a manila folder in her hands.
"Chloe, sit down," Gabe Sullivan, her father, a Luthorcorp employee, hissed, tugging at his daughter's sleeve. "This isn't the place."
"Dad, he needs to know," Chloe replied, loud enough for everyone to hear. She stepped into the aisle in her simple lavender dress.
The officiant cleared his throat. "Young lady, this is highly irregular—"
"I know," Chloe interrupted, moving forward with purpose. "And I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important." She looked directly at Lex. "Mr. Luthor, when you invited us to the wedding, I began looking into Ms. Atkins. At first, it was just so I could pick an appropriate gift, but what I found... You need to see this before you make a huge mistake."
Desiree's face hardened. "This is ridiculous. Chloe, what are you doing?"
Chloe reached the front, extending the folder toward Lex. "Three months ago, Desiree Atkins was Desiree Woods. Six months before that, she was Desiree Reynolds. And a year before that, Allison Sanders."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Lex took the folder, his expression unreadable as he flipped it open.
"Each time, she married wealthy men. Each time, those men changed their wills to leave everything to her within days of the wedding. And each time, those men died in mysterious accidents shortly afterward."
"This is absurd," Desiree protested, reaching for the folder. "Lex, don't listen to her. She's just a high school student trying to make a name for herself."
Lex held the folder away from Desiree's grasp, his eyes scanning the documents within. "Marriage certificates," he murmured. "Death certificates. Police reports."
"I accessed public records. The pattern is clear. She finds wealthy men, marries them quickly, and then they die under suspicious circumstances. Ironically enough, fire seems to be her preferred method." Chloe pulled out a newspaper clipping from the folder in Lex's hands. "Her last husband died when their house mysteriously caught fire while he was sleeping. She was conveniently out of town."
"This is slander," Desiree snapped, her composure cracking. "Lex, you know me. You know what we have is real."
Lionel Luthor rose from his seat. "I believe we should postpone these proceedings," he announced, his voice carrying authority that silenced the murmuring crowd. "At least until these rather serious allegations can be properly investigated."
"I agree," Clark added, stepping forward to stand beside Chloe. "Chloe is the best investigative reporter I know. If she found this information, it deserves to be taken seriously."
Lex continued examining the documents, his jaw tightening with each page he turned. "Three husbands," he said quietly. "All dead within six months of marriage."
Desiree took Lex's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Baby, you know this isn't true. You know what we have is special." Her eyes locked with his, and she drew close to his face. "We need to get married today. Right now. Send these people away."
Lex gently removed her hands from his face, taking a step back. "Why would I do that?" he asked.
"What?" Desiree replied, panic flashing across her face. "Lex, please. Don't let them ruin our special day."
"Miss Sullivan," Lionel interjected, his voice dangerously smooth as he turned toward Chloe. "You realize the seriousness of these accusations? If you're wrong, and I sincerely hope for your sake that you aren't, there could be severe consequences. Defamation suits can be quite... ruinous."
Chloe lifted her chin, meeting Lionel's gaze without flinching. "I stand by my research, Mr. Luthor. Every document in that folder is authentic and verifiable."
"Lex, please," Desiree pleaded, reaching for him again. "Don't let them do this to us."
This time, Lex pulled away sharply. "Stop doing that," he demanded.
Desiree's eyes widened in genuine shock. "Doing what? Lex, I'm not doing anything!"
"I think we've heard enough," Lionel declared, gesturing to security personnel stationed discreetly around the perimeter. "This wedding is postponed indefinitely. Ms. Atkins, I believe it would be best if you left the premises while we look into these allegations."
Two security men approached, positioning themselves on either side of the pergola.
"You can't do this," Desiree protested, looking frantically between Lex and Lionel. "Lex, tell them. Tell them you want to marry me today."
Lex's expression had turned to stone, his eyes cold as he looked at the woman he'd been about to marry. "Actually, I think my father is right. We should postpone until we can verify or disprove these claims." He handed the folder to Lionel. "Have our security team investigate immediately. And contact the police departments in these jurisdictions."
"Lex!" Desiree's voice rose, edged with desperation. "Just kiss me! You love me!"
The security guards grabbed Desiree by the shoulders. She thrashed wildly, her white dress billowing around her.
"Let go of me! Lex! Tell them to let me go!" Her voice rose to a shriek as the guards carried her away with her heels kicking uselessly in the air. The veil tore loose from her hair, floating to the ground. "This isn't over!" Desiree shouted over her shoulder as the guards marched her toward the mansion. "You'll regret this. Lex! You need me!"
The assembled guests erupted into a cacophony of whispers and exclamations. Smallville residents gaped openly, while Metropolis socialites maintained a veneer of sophistication even as they gossiped.
"Did you hear what that girl said?"
"Three dead husbands!"
"I knew there was something off about this."
"Poor Lex, how embarrassing."
"Fastest engagement in Metropolis history, and now this."
Lex's face was a mask of controlled fury and humiliation. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he stared at the spot where Desiree had stood moments before. Clark placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, but Lex shrugged it off, his jaw working silently. Lionel surveyed the scene with barely concealed satisfaction. Kara looked pleased, but upset at the same time, if that was possible. The murmurs were growing louder, and the crowd was becoming increasingly animated. Several guests were already rising from their seats, gathering their belongings as if preparing to leave. This could quickly become a public relations disaster for the Luthors, and by extension, for everyone associated with them.
Making a split-second decision, Tyson stood up from his chair and raised his hands.
"Everyone, can I have your attention, please?" His voice carried across the lawn, cutting through the buzz of conversation. A few heads turned his way, but most continued their private discussions.
Tyson placed two fingers from each hand in his mouth and whistled sharply. The piercing sound silenced the crowd instantly, all eyes now focused on him.
"Thank you," he said, stepping into the aisle. "Now, I know we've all just witnessed something unexpected. But let's be honest. That was exciting, wasn't it?"
A few nervous laughs rippled through the audience.
"I mean, come on," Tyson continued, gesturing expansively. "How many weddings have you been to where absolutely nothing interesting happens? The same vows, the same music, the same dry chicken dinner afterward?"
More laughter this time.
"Now, since you're all here, and we have everything ready for a hell of a party, I have a suggestion." He paused dramatically, scanning the crowd. "If we're not having a wedding, we're having a bachelor's celebration for one of the world's most eligible bachelors, Lex Luthor!"
Tyson turned toward Lex, whose expression had shifted from anger to bewilderment. "What do you say, Lex? These fine people got all dressed up. The caterers have prepared a feast. The bar is stocked. Seems a shame to waste it all."
Lex stared at Tyson for a long moment before the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He gave a slight nod.
"How about a round of applause for Lex, Lionel, and Kara Luthor for throwing this party for us!" Tyson began clapping enthusiastically.
For a heartbeat, no one clapped. Then Chloe joined in, followed quickly by Clark. Pete Ross and his date, Jody, added their applause from the middle rows. Like a wave, the clapping spread through the gathering until everyone was participating, some even cheering and whistling.
After a moment, Lionel Luthor inclined his head graciously, accepting the applause with the practiced ease of a man accustomed to public adoration. Lex straightened and raised a hand to acknowledge the crowd. The gesture seemed to release something in him, and his trademark confident smile returned to his face. "Thank you all for coming. While today didn't go as planned, I see no reason why we can't enjoy each other's company. Please, join me for cocktails on the terrace."
The string quartet, reading the room and sensing their cue, began playing an upbeat selection that contrasted with the previous wedding music. The transformation was remarkable. What had been a wedding ceremony moments ago was now seamlessly converting into an elegant garden party.
Waiters who had been standing by with champagne for the toast now circulated among the guests, offering flutes of the golden liquid. The bartenders at the reception tent began mixing cocktails as guests streamed toward them.
Kara made her way to Tyson's side, slipping her arm through his. "Quick thinking," she murmured, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
"Just trying to salvage the situation," Tyson replied, taking a glass for himself. "Figured Lex didn't need the added humiliation of everyone running for the exits."
Across the lawn, Lionel was already deep in conversation with several business associates as if the interrupted wedding had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Lex moved through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting sympathetic comments with grace. To look at him now, one would never guess he'd just narrowly escaped marriage to an apparent black widow.
The guests streamed toward what would have been cocktail hour but had transformed into the social event of the season.
— Meteor Freak —
Kara and Tyson stood at a small table on the edge of the terrace, champagne flutes in hand. The party had fully transitioned with laughter and conversation flowing as freely as the expensive champagne. The string quartet had been replaced by a jazz ensemble playing smooth background music that complemented the evening atmosphere.
"I can't believe you salvaged this," Kara said, shaking her head in amazement.
"You think I'm going to let our first date get ruined? No chance." He swirled the champagne in his glass. "Besides, wasting all this would have been a shame." He gestured broadly at the elegant surroundings, the flower arrangements, and the gourmet food being passed on silver trays.
Kara shook her head. "You're incredible."
"Who, me?" Tyson placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise. "Aww, you're just saying that." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned.
Kara snorted, the unladylike sound contrasting with her elegant appearance. "You're a goof," she said, nudging his shoulder with hers. "But you did save the day." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "Sneaky though. I'll have to keep an eye on you."
"Please do," Tyson responded without missing a beat. "Maybe a hand too," he suggested, reaching out, grasping her hand.
Kara looked down at their joined hands, her fingers automatically intertwining with his. She ran her thumb over his knuckles, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers.
"Maybe lips too," Tyson said boldly.
Kara's gaze dropped to Tyson's lips, then back to his eyes. Time seemed to slow as she leaned in, closing the distance between them. The clink of glasses, the murmur of conversation, and the soft jazz notes all seemed distant and unimportant as the sounds of the party faded into the background noise. For a moment, they might as well have been alone on the terrace. Her hand came up to rest lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through the fabric of his suit.
Their lips met in a kiss. At first, it was just gentle pressure. Her lips were soft, tasting faintly of champagne. Their kiss deepened naturally, neither pushing too far but both unwilling to pull away. Tyson's free hand found the small of her back, drawing her closer as Kara's fingers curled into the lapel of his jacket. When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes were bright. She didn't move away, staying within Tyson's arms, their faces still close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin.
"Wow," Tyson murmured, his wit momentarily lost.
"Yeah," Kara agreed. "Wow."
They might have stayed that way longer, lost in the moment, if not for the sound of a throat clearing nearby. They turned to find Clark Kent standing awkwardly a few feet away, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and determination.
"Sorry to interrupt," Clark said, his eyes darting between them. "But Lex is looking for you, Kara. Something about a toast he wants to make."
"Duty calls, I guess."
"Go ahead," Tyson said, giving her hand a squeeze before releasing it. "We'll continue this... conversation... later."
Kara's smile turned mischievous. "I'll hold you to that." She picked up her champagne flute and made her way through the crowd toward where Lex stood near the center of the terrace, preparing to address the gathering. Across the terrace, he spotted Chloe in conversation with Pete and Jody, her hands gesturing expressively as she no doubt recounted her dramatic intervention.
Tyson turned his attention to Lex, who was now tapping a spoon against his champagne flute to gain everyone's attention. The crowd gradually fell silent, all eyes turning toward their host.
"Ladies and gentlemen. While today certainly didn't go as planned, I find myself surprisingly grateful." Lex paused, his gaze sweeping across the assembled guests. "Grateful for friends who care enough to speak uncomfortable truths," he continued, nodding toward Chloe. "Grateful for associates who know when to pivot from disaster to opportunity." Here, he raised his glass slightly in Tyson's direction. "And grateful for family who stand by me, even when I make questionable decisions." He glanced at Kara, who smiled back at him.
Lex swirled the champagne in his glass, studying it for a moment before looking up again. "In business, I've learned that sometimes the deals that fall through are the ones that would have destroyed you. Today, I was saved from what could have been a catastrophic mistake, not by my insight, but by the intervention of people who owed me nothing."
"So I propose a toast," Lex said, raising his glass higher. "Not to what might have been, but to what is. To the truth, however uncomfortable. To friendship, however unlikely. And to second chances, which I seem to be collecting at an alarming rate."
A ripple of appreciative laughter moved through the crowd.
"To second chances," the guests echoed, raising their glasses in unison.
Lex took a sip of his champagne, then added wryly, "And perhaps to better background checks in the future."
This time, the laughter was louder. As conversations resumed around him, Lex stepped away from the center of attention, accepting handshakes and well-wishes with practiced grace.
Kara made her way back through the crowd to where Tyson waited, her blue eyes bright with amusement. "My brother has a way with words, doesn't he? Always knows how to spin a situation."
"It's a gift," Tyson agreed, offering her a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Though I think he meant what he said about being grateful."
"Oh, he did," Kara confirmed, accepting the champagne. "Lex doesn't say things he doesn't mean. He... presents them in the most advantageous light."
Lionel Luthor approached them with his champagne glass held loosely between long fingers. "Miss Luthor," he said, his voice smooth as aged scotch. "And Mr. Tyson. Quite the eventful afternoon, wouldn't you say?"
Kara straightened almost imperceptibly at her father's approach, her posture shifting from relaxed to formal in an instant. "Father," she acknowledged with a polite nod.
"Mr. Luthor," Tyson said. "Enjoying the party?"
"More than I anticipated, given the circumstances. Your suggestion to transition from wedding to celebration was... inspired. Quick thinking."
"Just making the best of things."
"Indeed." Lionel's gaze swept over the gathering before returning to Tyson. "Salvaging a potentially embarrassing situation for the Luthor name. That sort of social acumen is rare in someone so young."
"Thank you, sir," Tyson said, sensing there was more to come.
"I've been inquiring about you, Mr. Tyson. Your arrival in Smallville has been... noteworthy. Your integration into the community is remarkable. Your relationship with my daughter..." He paused, glancing between them. "Unexpected."
Kara shifted closer to Tyson, her shoulder brushing against his in a subtle show of solidarity. "Father—"
Lionel held up a hand, silencing her with the gesture. "Nothing personal, I assure you. I think you're a respectable young man." His tone was almost conciliatory, but his eyes remained cold and assessing. "But I have bad news. This is going to be your last date with my daughter."
The statement hung in the air between them, blunt and unapologetic. Tyson felt Kara stiffen beside him, and her sharp intake of breath made clear her surprise and indignation.
"Excuse me?" Kara's voice was controlled but carried an edge of steel that reminded Tyson that she was, after all, a Luthor. "I don't believe that's your decision to make."
Lionel's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes hardened. "I need you to come back with me to Metropolis, Kara. Tonight."
"Why?" Kara demanded. "I'm helping Lex with the plant. My work here is important."
"Your work," Lionel said, emphasizing the word with subtle mockery, "can be handled by any number of LuthorCorp employees. Your presence in Smallville was never about the plant."
"Then what was it about?" Kara challenged, her chin lifting slightly in defiance.
Lionel's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Insurance, my dear. A safety net. A reminder to your brother that his actions have consequences beyond himself." He turned his gaze to Tyson. "Smallville is Lex's test, not yours, Kara. It was never meant to be a permanent assignment."
"A test?" Tyson interjected, unable to remain silent. "You sent your son to manage a fertilizer plant as some kind of test?"
Lionel regarded Tyson with something approaching amusement. "Yes, Smallville is Lex's opportunity to prove himself worthy of the Luthor name after his... indiscretions in Metropolis. A chance to demonstrate that he can handle responsibility, make sound business decisions, and show leadership."
"And what about what I want?" Kara asked. "Does that factor into your calculations at all?"
"What you want," Lionel replied, swirling the champagne in his glass, "is to be part of something meaningful. To make your mark. I'm offering you that opportunity in Metropolis, with a position that utilizes your talents rather than wastes them in this..." he gestured vaguely at their surroundings, "rural experiment."
"What position?"
Lionel's smile widened fractionally, sensing an opening. "The chance to change the world." He paused, letting the offer sink in. "Unless, of course, you prefer overseeing corn fertilizer production."
Kara was silent for a moment, torn. Tyson could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing the opportunity against her independence, her relationship with Lex, and now, perhaps, whatever was developing between them.
"This is manipulation, pure and simple," she finally said.
"This is business," Lionel corrected smoothly. "And family. Sometimes the two intersect... " He glanced at Tyson. "No offense intended."
"None taken," Tyson replied dryly.
Lionel checked his watch, an elegant timepiece that probably cost thousands of dollars. "My helicopter leaves in an hour. I expect you to be on it, Kara." His tone made it clear this wasn't a request. "You can have your things shipped later."
"And if I refuse?" Kara challenged, though the question sounded more like a formality than a genuine threat.
Lionel's expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted, becoming more imposing. "Then I'll be forced to reconsider Lex's position here in Smallville. Perhaps he needs more... direct supervision. Or perhaps LuthorCorp's interests would be better served by closing the plant entirely."
The threat hung in the air, unambiguous and ruthless. Tyson's eyes narrowed at the casual way Lionel wielded power, threatening hundreds of jobs and his own son's position as bargaining chips.
Kara's face remained defiant. "You would punish an entire town and your son just to control me?"
"I would ensure that LuthorCorp assets are being properly utilized," Lionel corrected. "Including human assets." He finished his champagne and set the empty glass on a nearby table. "One hour, Kara. We have much to discuss on the flight back to Metropolis."
Lionel turned to leave.
"No."
Kara's single syllable rang with quiet determination. Lionel paused mid-step. He turned back slowly, his expression a careful mask of controlled surprise.
"No?" he repeated, the word framed as a question but carrying his disbelief. In Lionel Luthor's world, refusal was not an option typically presented to him.
Kara stood straighter, her chin lifting slightly. "I'll come to Metropolis," she clarified. "But not tonight. Tomorrow."
Lionel's eyes narrowed, his gaze calculating as it moved from Kara to Tyson and back again. The silence stretched between them, charged with unspoken power dynamics and familial tension.
Tyson remained silent beside Kara, understanding that this was her battle to fight. But he shifted his weight slightly, positioning himself more firmly at her side in a silent show of support that didn't go unnoticed by Lionel.
"And what, may I ask, is so pressing that it requires this... delay?"
"I need to transition my responsibilities here properly," Kara replied smoothly. "And I'd like to say proper goodbyes. One night won't make a difference to your plans."
What went unsaid hung in the air between them. She wanted one more night of freedom, one more night in Smallville, one more night with Tyson before returning to her father.
Lionel studied his daughter's face, reading the determination there. His gaze flickered briefly to Tyson again. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but an acknowledgment of sorts.
"Fine," he finally conceded. "Tomorrow morning. Nine sharp." It wasn't a request.
Kara nodded once, accepting the terms of this small victory.
Lionel wasn't finished, however. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to ensure only they could hear his following words. "But see that you make better decisions than Lex has." His gaze moved pointedly to Tyson before returning to Kara. "Your brother's weakness has always been allowing his emotions to override his judgment. I expected more from you."
The criticism of Lex and the implied disapproval of Kara's choices hung in the air between them, sharp as a blade. Kara's jaw tightened, but she didn't rise to the bait. "I'll see you tomorrow, Father," she said instead.
Lionel held her gaze for a moment longer, then inclined his head in a slight nod. Without another word, he turned and walked away.
"Well," she said, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "it looks like our time just got cut short."
Tyson quickly grabbed two glasses of wine from a nearby bartender and handed one to Kara. He teased, "Enough with the champagne. I don't like all those bubbles in my drinks anyway. Would you like another foot massage? That was rather tense."
The joke landed perfectly, breaking through the heavy atmosphere Lionel had left in his wake. Kara's expression transformed, the tight lines around her mouth relaxing as she let out a surprised laugh.
"I think I need something stronger than a foot massage after that," she admitted, accepting the wine gratefully. She took a sip, closing her eyes briefly as if to reset herself. When she opened them again, the determined Luthor was replaced by the Kara he'd been getting to know. "My father has that effect on people. He enters a room, and suddenly everyone needs therapy."
Tyson clinked his glass against hers. "To surviving Lionel Luthor. Not many can say they've stood their ground against him and walked away with a win."
"A small, temporary win," Kara corrected.
"Still counts," Tyson insisted. He glanced around the party, which continued unabated despite the drama that had unfolded in their corner. "So... we have until tomorrow morning."
Kara's eyes met his, something unspoken passing between them. "Yes."
"Then we shouldn't waste it standing around at a party that's not even a wedding anymore. What do you want to do with your last night in Smallville?"
Kara considered the question, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. "Something normal," she finally said.
"Normal," Tyson repeated, nodding sagely. "I think I can manage that."
"Can you?" Kara challenged, a spark of mischief returning to her eyes. "What exactly constitutes normal for you, Tyson? Because from what I've seen, you're about as normal as a three-headed cat."
Tyson placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "I'll have you know I'm extremely normal. I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else."
"And then absorb other people's superpowers," Kara added dryly. She took a small sip, her eyes watching him over the rim of her glass. "I'm not really surprised you were immune to Desiree's charms, but it seemed Clark was too. Did you notice? Wasn't that odd?"
Tyson had been in the process of downing his wine in one long swallow and setting the empty glass on a passing waiter's tray. But at Kara's words, he nearly choked. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
"Desiree," Kara clarified, watching him intently. "The way they all looked at her, how they'd do anything she asked, even Lionel. But you weren't affected. Neither was Clark Kent." She tilted her head, studying him.
Tyson was torn. Neither Clark nor Kara was aware of the other. They were cousins, split into families on opposing moral spectrums. Should he do something to bring them together? These thoughts raced through his mind, but Kara would grow more curious if he didn't answer. So he said the only thing that came to mind.
"Ummmmm..." he muttered dumbly.
It immediately drew Kara's suspicions. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You know something."
Tyson glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot. Across the terrace, he could see Clark talking with Chloe, Jody, and Pete, oblivious to their conversation.
"Okay, okay," Tyson conceded, raising his hands in surrender. "You got me. Jeez. I'm not good at lying to pretty girls."
Kara crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You can't flirt your way out of this one."
Tyson sighed. "Fine." He reached out and gently took her hand. "But not here. Come with me."
He guided her away from the main gathering, moving toward where Clark stood with his friends. Kara followed, her curiosity overcoming her suspicion. As they approached, Clark looked up, his conversation with Chloe trailing off mid-sentence.
"Hey," Clark greeted them, his eyes flickering briefly to their joined hands before returning to their faces. "Great party, considering."
Chloe nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely more interesting than most weddings I've been to. Though I still can't believe I had to crash it to stop Lex from making a huge mistake."
"You did good, Chloe," Tyson assured her. "You probably saved his life."
"All in a day's work for an investigative reporter," Chloe replied with a modest shrug, though her pride was evident.
Pete grinned, slipping an arm around Jody's waist. "And it turned into a pretty awesome party. Win-win, if you ask me."
Clark smiled at his friends before turning his attention back to Tyson and Kara. "So, are you two enjoying yourselves?"
Tyson glanced at Kara, whose expression made it clear she hadn't forgotten their interrupted conversation. He took a deep breath, making his decision.
"Hey, bud, can I talk to you?" Tyson asked Clark, his voice more serious than before. "It's kind of important."