Title: Heroes come in all shapes and forms
Author: Erika
Email: funhapjoy@yahoo. com
Rating: PG
Challenge: Retail
Note: Beta: Sylvie. 1st Warning: Smallville/Harvey. 2nd Warning: Not your typical retail story. 3rd Warning: Slightly dorky.
How would Clark and Lex have met if one or the other, or both, weren't on their set paths in life? What if they were able to be what they'd wanted to be when they grew up?

After working at the comic book store, Clark goes patrolling.

Even though he has been living in Metropolis for the past year, it still feels odd living in the city. At every corner he expects to run into a meteor mutant; instead he runs into petty thieves. Most of the crime he’s come across involves hookers, and drug addicts stealing purses. Nothing dangerous compared to what he came up against while growing up in Smallville.

He is just about to head back to the dorm to finish a sociology assignment on society and the media when he hears a child's cry.

He stops, trying to listen closely. He is still learning how to distinguish normal tears from cries for help.

Clark listens as the child's unselfconscious weeping continues.

Clark closes his eyes and concentrates on the sound, filtering it from other sounds as he tries to pinpoint the child's location. Now he can even hear the child's rapid heartbeat. He opens his eyes and uses his X-ray vision. There, in the park a few blocks away, Clark finds the crying boy.

He is hiding in the bushes all alone, and he is crying for his father.

It’s past nine o'clock in the evening; shouldn't the boy be in bed?

Clark runs toward the boy and once he reaches him he comes to an abrupt stop.

He approaches cautiously, not wanting to startle him. He clears his throat. "Hello."

At the sound of his voice, the young boy scrambles away from Clark, two huge tears running down his cheek. He looks about four. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans that are now covered in grass stains.

"No. No. It's all right," says Clark, kneeling down so not to frighten the child.

The child wipes away his tears. He seems to be listening to something, as he shakes his head and his reddish curls sway gently against the night breeze. "No. No. Get in trouble," he mumbles.

He then takes several huge gasps of breath, as he tries to control his crying. He finally lets out a small whimper.

"Shh... It's okay," Clark tells him as he tries to soothe the frightened boy. Slowly, ever so carefully, Clark takes the boy's hands and warms them between his own.

The child stares at their clasped hands. He hiccups, sniffs and then quietly whispers to himself. "But Arvey, I'm not allowed to speak to strangers."

Just in case they aren't alone, Clark looks around. It’s just the two of them. Who is the child talking to? The child continues, "But Mercy and Hope said everyone but them and daddy are strangers." He pauses and his lip wibbles. "Well, I'm sure they didn't mean to forget you." The child glances up at Clark. "You're a stranger, aren't you?"

Clark sometimes wishes life came with a 'How to Manual for Dummies'.

"Yes, but..." He immediately realizes he made a mistake when the boy starts moving away from him.

"Wait!" The little boy dusts off his jeans as he scrambles to run away from Clark. The child mentioned a father. "Where's your father?"

The boy stops and lets out a frightened cry. "Someone took daddy." His shoulders shake as his lower lip trembles. "I want my daddy."

Clark quickly picks him up, crooning softly. "Shh...I'll find him," he promises.

The boy clings to Clark. Clark presses his nose against the boy's hair. He feels the child's wet tears along his neck. "Your father, what's his name?"

"Da...daddy, " is the child's muffle response.

Oh. "And your name?"

"Charlie."

Okay, at least he now has a name. "Well Charlie, you wouldn't be any chance happen to know where you live?"

"In a big building with windows."

That basically describes all of Metropolis, thinks Clark. He’s going to have to try a different approach. "What do people call your father?"

"Sir."

Maybe the child's father is in the military?

"What about your friends? What do they call your father?"

"You mean Arvey?"

"Yes," Clark answers, hoping Arvey is a friend of Charlie's.

"But daddy doesn't speak to Arvey," Charlie explains.

"He doesn't?" What father doesn’t speak to his son's best friend?

"No." Charlie rubs his eyes and rests his cheek on Clark's shoulder. "Maybe we could ask Arvey; he'd know daddy's name," Charlie tells Clark confidently.

"You know his phone number?" Maybe he can take the child somewhere safe before he starts looking for the boy's father.

"No, silly. He's right here."

Clark looks around them. "Charlie, I don't see anyone."

Charlie sighs. "Daddy can't see him either, even though he pretends to. It hurts Arvey's feelings."

Oh, an invisible friend. That’'s probably who he was talking to earlier.

"Could we ask him then, Charlie?"

"Okay." Still in Clark's arms, Charlie sits up slightly. "Arvey, what is daddy's name?" he asks, then lets out a giggle. "You're funny." He giggles a bit more. He turns to Clark. "He sometimes calls him Lex, or Mr. Luthor."

Luthor? As in LuthorCorp? That Luthor?

Now it’s Clark’s turn to frown. Isn't the heir apparent to the LuthorCorp fortune in Europe? He remembers Chloe mentioning it. A few years ago there was a huge scandal when Metropolis’ favourite son turned his back on the city and moved to Europe instead.

Aside from his business dealings, not much has been heard about him.

"You said someone took your father?"

"Yes," says Charlie, yawing. It seems that the cry has made him sleepy.

"Was it near here?"

Aside from Charlie, the park is deserted and Clark hasn't heard nor seen any sign of struggle.

Charlie shakes his head. "It was far."

As the boy continues to hug Clark, he shivers slightly. Clark puts him down gently and takes off his jacket.

As Clark helps Charlie put it on, he notices the print on his long-sleeved shirt.

"You're a Warrior Angel fan?"

Charlie smiles. "He's bald, like daddy." And then in a very confiding manner he says, "All heroes are bald. How come you have hair?"

Before Clark can answer, Charlie continues. "Are you like Devilicus?" He seems excited by this. "He's E-V-I-L." He stretches out the word. "Daddy says he's not bad, just misunderstood. Arvey agrees with him."

He's a cute little imp, thinks Clark.

"Come on, let's go find your dad." Clark picks him up again. "Hang on tight."

"Wait, what about Arvey?"

"I'm sure he'll be able to follow us."

It takes a few minutes for Clark to find the nearest police station.

This isn't like Smallville, where he'd be able to just walk in, explain what happened and then walk out. He isn't naïve enough to think that could happen. No, h’s holding in his arms the sleepy heir to one of the wealthiest families. Questions will be asked.

He puts Charlie down just as the child happily exclaims, "There's my daddy!"

Before Clark can stop him or get his jacket back, Charlie runs towards a police cruiser, and to a bald man dressed in a business suit.

"Daddy!"

"Charlie?" Mr. Luthor calls out as he runs to meet his son, arms outstretched. "Oh, Charlie."

"Arvey said we had to hide," Charlie tells his father as he continues to hug him.

"Mr. Rabbit is very smart," Clark hears him say as he takes off.

There are many things that Lex owns. He owns land, companies and people. Many would argue that people aren't objects but one can trade them, discard them...create them.

Lex reaches over the car seat to adjust his son's seat belt.

"Daddy?" Four-year-old Julian Charles Luthor looks over at his father. There’s a serious expression on his young face.

"Yes, Charlie?" Lex asks bemusedly, as his son continues to frown. Lex pushes aside some of Charlie's stray red curls.

"Aren't we going to see Warrior Angel?" His son points out the car window to the seamless stream of office buildings. They are headed back to the penthouse.

Lex smiles. "Weren't you just yawning a few seconds ago?"

"No." Charlie shakes his head, bringing his hand up to hide a yawn.

"Charlie," admonishes Lex.

"You promised," Charlie insists quietly, a slight pout forming on his lips.

"It's probably over by now. We can go tomorrow," Lex assures him. He’ll ask for a special private showing of the movie.

"Oh." His son stares down at his clasped hands, biting his lips, unsure of what to say. He sighs deeply, shoulders slumped.

Ever since they announced the release of the new Warrior Angel movie his son has not stopped talking about it.

Lex planned to attend the premier of the movie but his meeting lasted longer than he’d anticipated and they’d ended up missing the event. Ever since that night, when his car was ambushed and Charlie taken from him, Lex began to take Charlie everywhere with him. They had never found the Good Samaritan who had rescued Charlie, and at times Lex has wondered if it was a homeless person. The light jacket Charlie had been wearing was made of flannel. It was quite used.

All Charlie would say when Lex questioned him was that he was rescued by Devilicus. Lex smiles. He never thought when he began to read the comics to his young son that he would become such a devoted fan.

During his business meeting, a part of him wanted to call the organizers of the movie premiere and have the whole thing rescheduled, but there was one thing Lex does not mess with: other children's enjoyment of Warrior Angel.

"Daddy, please."

Lex leans in to kiss his son's forehead. If he remembers correctly there should be a comic book store a few blocks from here. A little spot hidden in the sea of office buildings.

They may have missed the movie but there were other things to see.

"Mercy," Lex informs his bodyguard. "Please turn the car back and head to Lester Street. There should be a comic book shop by Lester and Stewart."

"Yes, sir," Mercy replies as Charlie lets out a huge happy yelp.

It’s nearing closing time as Clark counts the number of new comic books on display. He writes down which one he needs to replace, and how many he needs to bring back from stock.

While he enjoys this job, he has hoped that this would be the last year he would need to work here. He sighs. Who is he kidding? He earns more money working here than as an intern at the Daily Planet.

The wind chime at the entrance door sounds as it opens.

"Oh, hello," Clark says, getting up from his crouched position. "How can I ..."

A sharply-dressed woman enters the store. From where she stands, she looks quickly around the shop.

Clark wonders what she’s looking for.

A few seconds later she steps aside and says, "You can go in Mr. Luthor."

Oh, god.

For the past few days he has been checking the news, but nothing has been reported about the attempted kidnapping or the mysterious rescuer. Indeed, the only news on Luthor was in the business section.

"Thank you, Mercy." A bald man steps through. He is carrying Charlie. He looks to have just come from a meeting. His purple tie is loose though, its end held tightly in his son's grip.

The boy smiles at Clark. He seems to recognize him. He has a dimple in each cheek and he waves engagingly at Clark.

"Hello. You wouldn't happen to have..." Lex pauses as his son reaches up to whisper in his ear.

Clark pales at the thought of what Charlie is about to tell his father, but he then smiles when he hears the whispered request.

"Yes. I was just about to ask," followed by, "No, you can only have one," Charlie's father answers.

"But, daddy, what about Arvey? Shouldn't he have a toy?"

"I thought you were going to share with Mr. Rabbit," Mr. Luthor tells his young son.

The little boy bites his lip. "I guess I could share with him."

"He shares his toys with you, doesn't he?" Charlie nods and rests his cheek back on his father's shoulder.

"Excuse us; you wouldn't by any chance happen to have the latest Warrior Angel comics?" Lex asks as he puts his son down, hands coming to momentarily rest upon the boy’s shoulders.

"Actually, they're still in stock." Charlie looks at him expectantly. What would be the harm of selling the books now? "We do. If you could just hang on a second, I'll get them from the stock room."

As he goes back to the storage area, he can hear father and son talk as Charlie names the toys.

Clark finds the box he was looking for.

Back at the front of the shop Clark finds Charlie sitting on the floor, a comic book on his lap. He’s reading...actually he’s busy looking at the pictures and explaining to his imaginary friend what is occurring in each scene.

He glances up and finds Clark looking at him. "Devilicus, who is this again?" He points to the Star Wars comic book he's been reading. To the Boba Fett character.

Lex, who has been looking at some of the toys on the shelf, glances over to them. "Charlie? What did you call him? And what are you doing on the floor?"

Charlie's father walks over to his son and picks him up.

"Come on, Arvey; daddy doesn't want us to get dirty," Charlie tells Arvey as he dusts his hands along his father's pants.

Clark tries to keep himself from smiling.

"Charlie, did you call this man," he indicates Clark, "Devilicus?" It’s probably nothing but... Lex glances at the other man; he learned long ago never to take anything for granted.

"Arvey did."

"He did, did he?" Ever since his son acquired an imaginary friend he seems to use him as a means of expressing things he is either unsure of or doesn't know how to explain. Indeed, when they visited Bruce, Charlie took to calling him Dracula, to the amusement of Alfred.

"Have we met?" Lex asks the sales clerk.

The other man just blushes and stammers, "Oh, no. I mean, that would be..." He pauses. "I don't know anyone named Arvey."

"Actually, it's Harvey Rabbit," Lex corrects him. "Charlie has a hard time pronouncing his first name."

"Daddy, don't lie," his son protests. "I said it right. See, Arvey."

"No, I have never met anyone named Harvey Rabbit." Clark tries to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Charlie giggles. "Neither has daddy."

"Charlie," his father says sternly.

"Well, you haven't. But that's okay, daddy, Arvey still loves you."

"I'm glad to hear that." Lex smiles.

"Were you only looking to buy comics?" Clark asks, hoping to distract Luthor from questioning him further.

"Yes; Warrior Angel. Charlie has the whole collection but they’re are at our place in England. I thought I’d pick a few issues, since we’ll be staying in the States for a while."

"Feel free to browse. If you need any help, just let me know."

"Thank you. And your name is?"

"Oh, Clark Kent."

"A pleasure meeting you, Clark." Charlie tugs his father's sleeve. "Oh, yes, and this is my son, Julian Charles Luthor."

"Arvey," Charlie whispers to his father.

"Of course, how could I forget? That gigantic white rabbit you see standing beside himis Harvey."

Charlie smiles and offers his hand to Clark. "Nice to meet you." He grins impishly at Clark. "Can we see the comics now?"

"Sure, I'll just open this up and..." It proves to be one of his most enjoyable sales and Luthor even pays him extra for all the attention and patience Clark shows Charlie.

It’s easy for Clark to talk to a freckle-faced, red-haired, toothy grinned child who is happy to discuss his love of comics.

From his office, Lex can hear as his son playing in the other room. He knows he should be concerned that Charlie interacts more with an invisible friend than with children his own age but the psychologist has assured him that Charlie will outgrow this, that he is a well-adjusted child with an active imagination.

"Cool," Lex hears his son say, followed by another bout of silence and then, "Ew."

Lex puts down the paper he’s been reading and walks over to stand in the doorway of his son's playroom. "Charlie?"

"Daddy, girls give you cooties," his son proclaims. He is sitting on the floor surrounded by toy soldiers.

"I'm sure they don't mean to." Lex grins as his son wiggles his nose in disgust. He certainly doesn't seem too keen about kissing girls.

"Cooties, daddy," Charlie repeats, as though it is the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard.

"Now, Charlie, girls aren't that bad. You may even end up liking them one day."

"Really?" There is no hiding the doubt in his son's voice.

"You don't react like this when Mercy and Hope give you kisses."

"But they aren't girls. They're grow-ups," his son corrects him.

Lex laughs. "Of course, what was I thinking?"

"Will Hope teach me how to do cartwheels?"

"Have you been eating your vegetables?" Lex asks. For the past few months they have been trying to get Charlie to eat his vegetables. At times Lex feels he would have better success selling the Statue of Liberty than convincing his son that vegetables are good.

"Uh huh." His son refuses to look at him.

"Charlie?"

"Arvey has been eating them," Charlie confesses.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell Hope to teach him how to do cartwheels."

His son looks dejectedly down at his toys. Lex tousles his red hair. "If you eat your vegetables I'm sure Hope will be happy to teach you."

"They taste funny," his son says, throwing Lex a mutinous glare.

"I know, but you still need to eat them."

"But why?"

"It's a grown-up rule," Lex explains.

"Do grown-ups have to eat vegetables?"

Lex laughs. "Not if they don't want to."

"I can't wait to be old," his son replies gravely.

"If it were up to me, you'd stay like this forever."

Clark is just about to go to sleep when he hears a cry.

"Arvey! Arvey!" It’s Charlie. Clark jerks his head up. Even from this distance he can hear the child's hiccups.

Clark sits up as the boy's cries grew louder and more laboured.

He quickly changes clothes. He zips through the empty streets and finds himself at a LuthorCorp building.

For some reason he can’t explain the need to assure himself that Charlie is all right.

Getting through LuthorCorp security is no easy means, but how does one guard against alien speed?

Clark enters the penthouse. He X-rays the rooms until he locates Charlie, clinging to his father.

"Daddy," the boy cries. "Arvey ran away."

His face is buried against his father's chest

"Don't worry; we'll find him," fis father tries to reassure him.

Clark stays and watches, listening as the boy's breath grows even, as he falls asleep in his father's arms.

It’s strange but ever since that night he dropped by LuthorCorp he feels as though he’s being followed.

He takes to scanning his dorm and the comic book shop for any listening device but finds none.

Clark can't shake the feeling of someone being within easy reach of him. Almost as though they’re breathing down his neck.

The other strange thing is that his food consumption seems to have gone up. The groceries he buys and stores in his small fridge keep disappearing. Especially his vegetables.

And the other strange thing, twice now he’s thought...no, it seems silly but he's been outside during a break, enjoying the sun, when he’s glanced down and noticed that there’s more than one shadow.

He blinks and it’s gone.

Days pass and bizarre things begin to happen to Clark. At the store the comic books get rearranged and some of the new additions look well-read. The bed he makes every day seems slept in. His shoelaces get tied together and he bumps into things even though there's nothing there.

Patrolling becomes difficult, even more so when he discovers posters of a child's drawing scattered throughout the city. Posters of a big white rabbit named Harvey. There is a quietness that settles in Metropolis as LuthorCorp guards search the city, looking for a lost pet.

In his patrols he bumps repeatedly into Charlie and his father.

Charlie insists that Harvey is just lost. Carrots are scattered throughout the city.

Clark has never met a man so dedicated to his son, who takes his needs seriously, even if it is something regarding an imaginary friend.

All three of them end up walking in the park, with Charlie calling out, "Arvey, Arvey," now and then.

"How long has Charlie known Harvey?" Clark asks Lex one day.

"About a year. My car broke down in Ireland and we ended up spending a day at a pub. Next thing I know it's Harvey this and Harvey that."

"Devilicus, could you put me on your shoulders?" Charlie asks. He has been spending a great deal of time outside and more freckles are now scattered across his nose and cheeks.

"Charlie, I'm sure that ..." Lex starts to tell him.

"No, it's all right. Come here, kid." Clark picks Charlie up and the boy lets out a gleeful giggle.

"Wow. I can see everything from here."

A blush develops on Clark's cheeks.

"Um...I do teach him manners, you know," Lex says ,unable to hide his own embarrassment.

"He's a good kid."

"He definitely is."

They share a grin.

In the past few days, Clark has been reading about Lex Luthor. He has never been married and Charlie's mother was an heiress to the Hardwick fortune. There was speculation that Charlie was the result of a financial transition between the families. Lex received a son, and the Hardwick a partnership in one of the LuthorCorp subsidiaries.

"How long do you think he’ll miss Harvey?" Clark asks as he reaches up to hold Charlie's hands.

"I really don’t know. It's been ,what, two weeks now?"

Three weeks, actually. Not that Clark is counting.

"Daddy, I need to pee."

Clark quickly puts Charlie down and watches as Lex carries his son to the nearest tree.

"Okay, you can go now."

Clark realizes that there's something wrong when Charlie's heart beat begins to race and his breath deepens.

"Charlie, son, just let it out."

"Daddy, no. What if someone sees?"

"Son, it's okay." Lex gently strokes his son's back. There is no hiding the hesitancy in Charlie's stance nor his muffled cry. Soon he's done and he throws himself against his father's body.

"That's my boy," Lex tells him quietly as he slings a subdued Charlie on his hip and walks back to Clark.

Charlie's face is buried against his father's chest.

"I think we need to get back home. It was nice seeing you again, Clark."

"I'll keep looking for Harvey," he tells them both and Charlie gives him a shy smile.

"Thank you, Clark," Lex says and Charlie just quietly waves goodbye.

As they leave, Clark wonders when he gave his heart away.

You meet very interesting people while working in a comic book store. You have fathers sharing their childhood hobbies with their sons. You have old time collectors and young kids coming in to buy cards. You also have the gamers, the ones who play Dungeons and Dragons. They come in every Wednesday. You have the goth girls, the geeks and the newbies, the shy ones who come in uncertain of their welcome, hesitantly moving from one shelf to another.

You comes across people of all ages and backgrounds. They pay with bank cards, credit cards and pennies.

As much as Clark might complain about this job, he truly does enjoy it.

Monday becomes Clark's favourite day; that’s the day Charlie comes to visit. Sometimes he comes in with Mercy or Hope, other times his father.

He brings two bags of carrots with him and leaves them out back. They’re for Harvey, Charlie tells him.

After Charlie leaves, Clark wonders where the carrots have disappeared to but he doesn't question it further since things seem to have return to normal. No more disappearing books, or toys, or floating items. No more shadows that resemble the Easter Bunny and no more sounds of someone munching on a carrot.

So Clark continues to work and help Charlie put posters up throughout the city. Fall becomes winter and then spring. Charlie grows and loses a front tooth, and gleefully celebrates his visit from the tooth fairy.

Harvey's name is no longer mentioned, but now and again Clark discovers Charlie talking quietly to himself. The next time he sees Lex he asks him how his son is coping and Lex whispers that they’re still leaving bags of carrots out in the balcony.

One day, after Lex asks him on date, Clark glances up to see a seven-foot white rabbit sitting beside Charlie, eating a carrot, glancing over Charlie's shoulder as Charlie reads his comic book.

The rabbit momentarily looks over at Clark and winks.

Clark gasps and rubs his eyes.

The rabbit is still there.

"Harvey?"

End