A/N: Even as youngsters, Lex and Clark were destined to be together. This is how I imagined their real first meeting.

Community Service

Part One

The Juvenile Court judge stared stonily at the slim teenager with the baby face, bald head, and laser-sharp blue eyes. "I find you guilty of illegal possession of a controlled substance, Mr. Luthor. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Only that I'm astounded to meet both an assistant DA and a judge that Dad hasn't been able to buy off, Lex thought resentfully. "No, sir," he replied smoothly, standing perfectly still in his blue Excelsior Prep blazer. Next to him, the expensive lawyer in gray Armani pin stripes cleared his throat. Quickly Lex continued, "Except that I've learned my lesson, and I'm sorry."

The judge's dour expression didn't change. "Hmm. I'm glad to hear that. Given the fact that this is your first conviction, I'm inclined to be lenient……"

Lex's mouth slowly curled upward into a satisfied smile.

"….but I can't ignore the fact that you're almost seventeen. I expect better things from a boy of your age and obvious intelligence."

Lex's smile froze in place.

"Also, I'm compelled to take into consideration the evidence of Ms. Hardwick, who testified that she stopped you from driving while under the influence."

Dear, innocent Victoria. She'd been perfectly happy to let him race her father's Ferrari, stoned as he was, until she was in the mood to play. When she unbuttoned her shirt and suggested a pleasant—but not particularly novel—activity, he remembered muttering that the car was more responsive than she was.

The next thing he knew, the cops were booking him.

"In my opinion, she saved you from yourself, young man. She showed an admirable sense of responsibility. You owe her your thanks. You could profit by learning a little responsibility yourself….."

Lex ground his teeth, and made a mental note to thank Victoria properly at the first opportunity. Right after he found a way to silence his father's mocking laughter, which had echoed endlessly in his head ever since Lionel had first heard of his son's arrest.

"…..so I'm sentencing you to community service."

His face carefully blank, Lex listened in horror to the rest of the judge's sentence.

"Cub Scouts?"

The assistant curator of the Metropolis Museum of Natural History beamed at Lex from across her desk with matronly affection, but she could hardly have shocked him more if she'd been speaking Urdu (a language that he was in the process of mastering). He repeated the question, confident that he must have misheard her. "CUB Scouts?"

Apparently unfazed by Lex's obvious lack of enthusiasm, the curator nodded and her smile broadened. "Yes, two troops of fourth-graders from out of town"—she consulted an appointment book on her desk—"from Grandville and, and, oh yes, Smallville. They're coming tonight for a sleepover. Since you've graciously volunteered to be a museum guide as part of your community service, I'd like you to be their docent—and an overnight chaperone too, of course."

The mention of Smallville made Lex wince inwardly. Up until two minutes ago, he'd been congratulating himself on finding an easy way to serve out his sentence. In fact, he'd even been looking forward to discussing various interesting topics relating to anthropology, geology and astronomy with the tourists who came from all over the world to view the museum's famous exhibits.

As if by magic, this harmless-looking woman had transformed his clever plan into a nightmare. How had she done it? The prospect of spending an entire night babysitting a bunch of noisy brats with runny noses and whiny voices—and from Smallville, of all places—filled him with almost as much horror as spending an entire day with his father. He hated kids. Even when he'd been a kid, he'd hated kids; he remembered the schoolyard taunts, the curious stares, the feeling that he was a freak in a circus show. Obviously, it had been too much to hope that those days were behind him now.

It sounded remarkably close to the kind of humiliating idea that Lionel would come up with. No, he thought darkly, scratch that. It sounded exactly like something Lionel would come up with.

The curator's next words confirmed his thoughts. "Your father assured me he thought this experience would be very beneficial for you." As if to close the subject, she folded her hands on her desk. "I'll look forward to seeing you at six o'clock," she said briskly. "In the Main Hall."

Lex nodded, only half-hearing her. He was too busy listening to Lionel's satisfied chuckle, which rang out in his mind as clearly as if dear old Dad had been in the office with him. He left the museum, mentally cursing his father, Victoria, the judge, and the curator in seven languages, including two that hadn't been in general use since the fall of Rome.

TBC…..