A/N: This is a missing scene from chapter 17 of If She Looked Over. Lex and Pete argue at the dinner table, and Jonathan takes Lex outside to talk about it. In ISLO, I cut straight to Jonathan and Martha's discussion after Pete and Lex have gone home.

Some swearing in this one, relatively mild.

His Father's Son

Jonathan followed Lex out into the cold night air, pacing his breathing.

Six months ago, Jonathan would have agreed with what Pete had just been saying at the dinner table. He might have even joined him in taunting Lex. Now, the thought of behaving that way was utterly repulsive to him. He was ashamed that he had ever considered that to be acceptable.

Jonathan had told Martha that she could consider Lex to be part of their family. Martha doted on the kid as much as she did on Clark, but Jonathan wasn't there yet. He knew family had nothing to do with proving worthiness, but time mattered. He'd never admitted it to Martha, but it had taken him some time to truly warm up to the toddler they'd found in the field, to consider that stranger his child. Now, he couldn't imagine loving a child more, even one that was biologically his.

Lex was a different issue. He wasn't a cute, innocent, helpless toddler—he was a Luthor, for goodness sake. But Martha clearly loved him, so Jonathan had to try. And they'd come a long way this summer. Lex was polite, courteous, and respectful, and he obviously cared a lot about their family.

Jonathan glanced over at Lex. His shoulders were stiff, and he kept a wide distance from Jonathan. Jonathan had seen Clark act that way when he thought he was in trouble, and Jonathan always communicated to Clark that he wasn't by putting a hand on his shoulder. He walked toward Lex, and reached out a hand.

Lex flinched away.

Jonathan blinked. He'd forgotten that Lionel used an entirely different tactic with his son, which meant that Jonathan really had no idea what to do for the kid.

He decided to be direct. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said. "I'm not even upset with you."

Lex's face turned pink, and he lowered his head.

Jonathan sighed. "What happened in there, Lex?"

"What do you think happened?"

"I want to hear your side of the story."

"You were there."

"So was Pete, but I think he'd tell a different story than you would."

Lex's jaw pulsed.

"Talk to me, Lex. What happened?"

Lex turned to face Jonathan, his voice suddenly raised. "Nothing that doesn't happen every damn day."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows—whether or not the kid was in the habit of swearing, he had never done it around Jonathan or Martha—but he remained silent.

"Everyone assumes I'm a carbon copy of my father, just because I have his last name. I know I messed up in Metropolis, with the parties and drugs and prostitutes. But most teenagers act up to get their parents' attention, then they get grounded, and it's over. Everything I did was plastered all over the front page of every damn tabloid in the state. And my father didn't care, unless I did something bad enough that it cost him something to cover it up, and then . . ."

Lex's face turned pale, and he swallowed.

"Pete's upset with me for something my father did. What else is new? My father lies and cheats people for the hell of it. He doesn't care what they think of him, he just does it. Taught me to do the same thing, but I don't want to be him. I want to be better than him. I want to be someone my mom would have been proud of."

Jonathan nodded. He'd never heard Lex open up this much before, except the one time he had confessed everything to Martha.

"But I don't know how to be any better than him. He taught me everything I know about how to run a business, how to deal with people, how to protect myself. They're the only strategies I know. How the hell am I supposed to do things any differently when that's all I know? But it doesn't even matter if I do, because his reputation is set. Every time he does something news-worthy, the Luthor name gets dragged through the mud again. They assume I'm the same."

"Lex—"

"So if I cheat someone, the media says they were right all along. If I try to help someone, it's even worse. The media spins it so it sounds like I was trying to exploit them somehow, or if I'm lucky, they invent some debt I'm making up for."

"Okay, but—"

"And sometimes they're right. That's why I don't do charity. In the Luthor world, charity's just another word for covering our asses. My father doesn't care about anyone but himself, and the media assumes I'm just like him, and so does everyone in this town, and it doesn't matter what the hell I do!" His voice had risen to shouting, but at this point, he stopped suddenly.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Sure it does, Lex."

Lex grimaced. "Doesn't change what people think."

"I'd rather know what you think. Do you think you're like your father?"

Jonathan fully expected Lex to respond with an emphatic denial. He expected him to launch back into his shouting.

He didn't expect Lex to be silent.

Lex shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. He looked up for a second, like he was going to say something, then looked back down at his shoes.

No wonder the kid was so sensitive about this. His insecurity was tearing him to pieces. Once again, Jonathan decided on a direct approach. "I don't think you're like your father."

Lex looked up, and his dark blue-green eyes met Jonathan's. This time, it didn't appear to just be a respectful eye contact. It was like he was drinking in Jonathan's words.

The kid was listening. Jonathan could make use of that. "Well, it's like you said. Your father doesn't care about people. You've proven quite a few times that you do. Martha loves you, and Clark thinks the world of you, and I trust their judgement. And your upper-level employees, the ones that know you—they all have great things to say about you."

"The media thinks they were paid to say them."

"Were they?"

" . . . No."

"Well, there you go. I've heard your father tell the cameras that you have the potential to be a great man, but I think you have even more. I think you could be a good man." Jonathan smiled gently. "Actually, I think you already are one."

Lex's eyes widened. "Thanks, Mr. Kent. That means a lot, coming from you." Lex finally broke the eye contact, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry I got upset."

"It's okay, Lex, I understand why." He lowered his voice a little. "But you might want to leave the cursing out here. I don't think Martha would appreciate it very much. I'm not a big fan of it, either, for that matter."

Lex winced. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright, Lex." Jonathan took a deep breath.

"I don't want to be my father. But sometimes I have his temper. Then sometimes I think, if you and Mrs. Kent had been my parents . . ."

Jonathan froze as Lex looked away.

Lex's eyes shone. "God, I wish you had been."

There was a fleeting moment when Jonathan felt it: deep, passionate, fatherly love for the young man before him. He wanted to pull the kid into his arms and tell him he might as well be their son, because they adored him like he was. But it was a passing spark, and it settled into an ember of hope for the future and concern for the present.

In the end, Jonathan didn't have any words, and he looked away. Lex spoke before Jonathan could collect himself. "I should probably get going."

Jonathan nodded. He wasn't sure how the conversation between Martha and Pete was going, but he doubted Pete would be talked out of his prejudices in a single night. "Go in and say good night to Martha and Clark before you go."

Lex nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Jonathan watched Lex go into the house ahead of him.

Any time, my son, he wanted to reply, but neither of them were ready for that.

A/N: Your thoughts are always much appreciated!