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crack_van2005-09-11 11:13 am
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-09-11 11:13 am
Entry tags:
Words Like Pale Stones by Jenn (PG)
Fandom: SMALLVILLE
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seperis
Author Website: Indulgence
Why this must be read: Week 2 - quieter stories that don't get a lot of press, but should definitely be read. There's a reason Jenn gets rec'ced a lot. And I mean A LOT. She's a fabulous writer with a number of great stories to her name in a variety of fandoms. I like this story because it's quiet. It's not about a relationship, there's no sex, no great action sequences or meteor freaks. It does what a story's supposed to do - it captures an emotional moment and makes it real. It totallys gets where the characters are coming from, and how hard it can be to live with not knowing the Truth.
It's a post-Hug story. The episode where Lex shot Clark with a machine gun. It's a post-Nicodemus story. The episode where the pretty flower turned everyone towards their baser instincts - Lana dressed up like a slut and assaulted Lex with condiments. The story is two conversations between Lex and Lana. They're friends who know what it's like to be lied to, to know you've done something and not be able to remember what. How the knowing is more important than the thing itself. And because of this, they understand each other in a way that no one else can. It works. Beautifully.
"Lex." She had to ask. She hadn't before--the car and the Talon's closing had been pretty self-explanatory, and she'd wondered briefly if she should volunteer to have his car detailed for him. But. "Lex, did anything else happen when I closed the Talon and borrowed your car?"
She was looking at him now, caught the very faint edges of--something. Something that was like the looks in the hall, on the street, waiting tables, not quite the same, but close enough.
Discomfort won in the time it took for her to draw a breath, before Lex was very much Lex again, and God, she wished she hadn't asked.
"Nothing important."
She'd love to believe that. Clenching her fingers on the mug, she took a deep breath and looked up.
"Just--tell me. Okay?" Clark and Whitney's discomfort had been kind of funny, but--Lex was different. He was her employer and Clark's friend, and she--God, what had she done, anyway?
Read the story: Words Like Pale Stones
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:
seperisAuthor Website: Indulgence
Why this must be read: Week 2 - quieter stories that don't get a lot of press, but should definitely be read. There's a reason Jenn gets rec'ced a lot. And I mean A LOT. She's a fabulous writer with a number of great stories to her name in a variety of fandoms. I like this story because it's quiet. It's not about a relationship, there's no sex, no great action sequences or meteor freaks. It does what a story's supposed to do - it captures an emotional moment and makes it real. It totallys gets where the characters are coming from, and how hard it can be to live with not knowing the Truth.
It's a post-Hug story. The episode where Lex shot Clark with a machine gun. It's a post-Nicodemus story. The episode where the pretty flower turned everyone towards their baser instincts - Lana dressed up like a slut and assaulted Lex with condiments. The story is two conversations between Lex and Lana. They're friends who know what it's like to be lied to, to know you've done something and not be able to remember what. How the knowing is more important than the thing itself. And because of this, they understand each other in a way that no one else can. It works. Beautifully.
"Lex." She had to ask. She hadn't before--the car and the Talon's closing had been pretty self-explanatory, and she'd wondered briefly if she should volunteer to have his car detailed for him. But. "Lex, did anything else happen when I closed the Talon and borrowed your car?"
She was looking at him now, caught the very faint edges of--something. Something that was like the looks in the hall, on the street, waiting tables, not quite the same, but close enough.
Discomfort won in the time it took for her to draw a breath, before Lex was very much Lex again, and God, she wished she hadn't asked.
"Nothing important."
She'd love to believe that. Clenching her fingers on the mug, she took a deep breath and looked up.
"Just--tell me. Okay?" Clark and Whitney's discomfort had been kind of funny, but--Lex was different. He was her employer and Clark's friend, and she--God, what had she done, anyway?
Read the story: Words Like Pale Stones