When you wake up to your father completely re-arranging what you thought was your office, you know it's going to be a really bad day.

Then again, seeing Clark Kent in a two thousand dollar coat could brighten any bald, rich mans day.

There was something different about Clark when he stopped by the mansion. Something...exciting. Dangerous even. He had dropped by to borrow the Ferrari.

Clark Kent has never asked to borrow a pen from me, let alone a Ferrari. I admit, I was intrigued. He made mention to taking Lana out on a date that evening. Don't get me wrong, I was glad he was finally going after the woman he loves. But I never took Lana for a Ferrari lover. Pick her up on horseback, and you're in. But a Ferrari?

I made it clear that I was hesitant about allowing him to have it, after all, it's very expensive. Hard to handle. Clark made a joke about not driving it off a bridge.

And then Clark did something that he knew would let him get his way. Through all our problems, all the fights, the one thing that made everything all right, the one thing that made me want to do anything for him.

He gave me the Clark Kent smile.

I assumed he had a good night, he didn't return the car. I admit, I waited up half the night. Interested in how the date went, but more interested in seeing Clark in his new behavior. I have to admit, I liked it.

Eventually I gave up. After all, I trust him. I'm sure he just wanted to get home, not worry his parents, and then I'd see him the next day.

And I did, however he wasn't stopping by to drop off the Ferrari. He asked, no, he told me he was keeping the Ferrari a little bit longer, that he'd send it back when he was settled.

Did I mention he was in a three thousand dollar suit?

I asked him what was going on, to which he told me he was leaving Smallville, Kansas, and everything behind. His family, his friends, there was nothing left for him here.

I took that as a personal blow.

Clark and I have had our differences, but we've always been friends. Since that day on the bridge when he saved me, I assumed our friendship could handle anything. The fact that he said there was nothing here for him, it hurt.

I asked him about Lana. He said there was someone new. And then he said something that surprised me. Something that interested me.

Something that almost turned me on.

Clark said that I had no idea what he was capable of. He said that when he was done showing the world everything he could do, he would have anything he'd ever wanted. He even promised that he'd have more money than me.

Remember that list of questions I had in the back of my mind about Clark? They all came flooding back.

I thought this was too good to be true. Clark Kent, the complete opposite of me. Finally seeing things my way, beginning the search for power and money. I told him he was right, maybe he should leave. Hell maybe I should leave too. He invited me along. I said we could stay at the penthouse in Metropolis.

Clark Kent and Lex Luthor.

He said he liked the sound of that. So did I.

The problem with having Clark Kent as a best friend is that the goodness in him rubs off on you after a while. He had tried many times in the past to get me to see the good in people, to do the right thing. He taught me that when I get a bad feeling about something, it probably is bad. Or, too good to be true in this case.

God help me, I decided to do the right thing. I told Clark I was going to the office to tie up a few lose ends. Truth is, I went to the Kent farm to talk to Mr. Kent. We've had our differences in the past, but I knew he'd listen to what I had to say. After all, if it's in Clarks best interests, Mr. Kent listens.

At first, he asked me to butt out. Leave the Kents problems for him to solve. I imagine in his mind he was being nice by saying, "I don't mean to be rude," and "I appreciate your concern," right before he told me to mind my own. So when I offered the whereabouts of Clark to him, he lightened up a little. Asked me to go back the mansion and keep him there until he could think of something.

When I arrived at the mansion, Clark was already gone. I had received a phone call from Mrs. Kent a few hours later, letting me know that Clark was all right, safe at home.

I'm not sure what went on while I was at the Kents, but my four hundred pound pool table was pushed up against the wall.

That night, I lay in bed thinking about the recent events. The amazing thing about Clark Kent: even when he's not himself, he still teaches you something. I realized that I need to be honest with my father. Not allow him to walk all over me. Stand up to him, as Clark had stood up to his father.

And stand up to him I did. I had my office put back to it's original condition, before my father decided to 'move in'. I told him what he told me after the meteor shower, "stop feeling sorry for yourself." Deal with it, I told him.

He seemed to take it well. But one thing he said surprised me, and almost worries me. He said I must have learned the value of directness from Clark. My father said Clark was a very interesting young man.

Sometimes, we do agree.

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