Looking back he's not sure how it happened. One minute he's delivering the last of the vegetables for the mid-summer Country Music Festival, next he's eavesdropping on one of Lex's conversations.

It's not like he's spying or anything, honest. But it's just in case the other man's a monster or a meteor crazed serial killer or something. And oh that sounds so lame even in his own head.

The man doesn't look like a monster. Longish sun-streaked hair falling on to eyelashes any girl would kill for and a guitar, a plain, ordinary acoustic that's seen better days. So probably not a monster, just one of the band. He thinks Mrs. Butler said his name was Lindsey something or other.

He and Lex seem friendly enough, like they've met before.

That's the mystery here, not some meteor induced mutation. Just how does Lex know a country singer? Aren't nightclubs and rock more his line? Even Clark's not sure if he really likes country and he grew up with it. And this guy just isn't big city, dressed like a local in his cord and denim; Southern accent full of long vowels, honey and bourbon. So how ...? He's obviously, no threat, and Clark should just go back to the truck and not spy. Right? Let Lindsey go on tuning his guitar and Lex stand there with his hands in his pockets in a way his tailor probably hates him for.

But Lex is, well frankly, too close to this guy for Clark to feel comfortable. Though he's not quite sure why. It's not if they're actually touching. It's more that 'get inside your personal bubble' Lex uses when he's trying to put people off their game or the way he acts with Clark. And what does that say about their relationship?

"...sabbatical?"

"I ...got bored. You know I got promoted to special projects."

"Good move." And it looks like all Lex wants to do is push that stray lock of hair out of Lindsey's eyes because his left hand slides out of his pocket, then back in.

"Should have been." Lindsey pauses, strums a chord. "Good and bad. The good being I didn't have to deal with your father any more."

"Why do you think I'm not complaining too loudly about being exiled out here?" Lex gives a rueful smile. "And the bad?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? Boy, girl or business type complicated?"

And their body language is all wrong for this conversation. Lex, moves constantly, circling the seated guitarist like wolf. While Lindsey tunes the guitar in a something more like a caress than a musical technique. And perhaps Clark is just seeing this all through some new form of x-ray vision but he thinks they're flirting in some subtle way. But men don't flirt with other men, not in Smallville. Well except, you know, Lex flirts with him. At least he thinks he does. And maybe that's all in his imagination too, teenage crush an all that. But maybe not.

"All of the above. Angel, Darla, Wolfram and Hart. Got out of control too quickly. And I didn't want to choose between them and the firm and everything. I had to get out." He shrugs.

"Indecision just gets you into trouble."

"Like you do any different."

"It's important to keep a diversified portfolio." Lex grins. And this time he does brush the hair out of Lindsey's eyes.

"Are you coming to the show tonight? You might want to dress down a bit. Armani doesn't mix well with the hay I'm thinking of rollin' you in." Clark has to strain to hear but he's sure that's what Lindsey says. And it leaves him sick and excited for reasons he's determined not to analyse. Not here and now.

"Tempting, even with the collateral suit damage. But I can't."

"You ruthless business types can't take a night off?"

"I've got a conference call at nine. Tokyo, Paris, London, Metropolis and Smallville." The irony of the town's insignificance doesn't seem lost on either of them.

"The pressures of commerce. Not like me. It's just me, my guitar and the open road. And a truck just fast enough to outrun all those bad memories."

"Perhaps, later you could drive that truck up to the house and give me a private show."

"Oh, that is such a cliché." Lindsey's laughing, the guitar loose between his fingers.

"Funny, because I'm not the one standing here looking like the Marlboro Man."

"You don't seem to be complaining. Living out in Hicksville giving you a taste for farmboys Lex?" Lindsey gets up, puts the guitar down on the stand and leans just a little towards Lex. And a little more. And Lex just holds his ground.

And Clark, wanting but not wanting to hear the answer is back in the truck in an instant.