She never forgot her first crush.

He was all sleek pale skin, moved like a panther stalking its prey, and for a second she wondered if he took ballet. She was still looking when he took off his pants and flung them casually behind him, and there he was, the first naked boy she had ever seen.

She tried to look away, but couldn't, eyes running all over his body, as feelings she couldn't identify raged inside of her, multiplying when he dived into the pool in one fluid movement, a smug grin on his face as he kissed the girl there, hands roaming all over her body, and she could see everything, everything! through the water.

At that moment, he looked up, and she wasn't surprised when she saw that his eyes were blue. A second of eye contact, and then she fled, blood rushing to her cheeks.

Nell asked her where she went, as she fussed over her hair, making sure the braids were in place. She looked into the mirror, saw a little girl with huge brown eyes, pretty in pink, and wished she was about ten years older with blonde hair and breasts, and doing things in that pool with him.

Later on, they were formally introduced by Nell. He was wearing clothes then, a shirt that had the first few buttons undone, and pants that she wasn't sure if were the same pair he had on earlier, before he..

"Lex, I would like you to meet my niece, Lana Lang. Lana, this is Lex Luthor, the son of our gracious host tonight." Nell, all dressed up as well, and Lana had met at least 50 strangers tonight in the huge ballroom, and wondered what would happen when she ran into him, what she would say, what he would do. And even now, she wasn't prepared, rehearsed coy line forgotten.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Lang." A rakish grin, like those the heroes had in those romance novels Lana had secretly took from Nell's room. Likewise, she felt her heart beating fast, and imagined what it would feel like if Lex Luthor bent down and kissed her on the lips, and maybe explore her mouth with his tongue like what happened in the novels.

It wasn't until Nell's not-so-subtle nudge that she realized she had drifted off into a daydream in the middle of a full-blown party. And even worse, he was still standing there, watching her with an amused smile, and she had a moment's panic that he knew.

"Thank you Mr. Luthor for inviting us to be your guests for this weekend." There, delivered with politeness fluently, and she was proud of herself (Nell had made her practise it over and over again until her deliverance was perfect.) It was supposed to be said to Lionel Luthor, but Lana figured that it didn't matter who it was said to as long as it was a Luthor, and she did so want to show Lex Luthor that she might be young, but she was mature.

Another half-lazy smile, and Lana looked up at him beneath long lashes, knowing that she looked innocent and alluring; at least she had in the mirror. Then, long red fingernails came into view on the sleeve of his shirt, and crawled down slowly, tracing little patterns on the sleeve, conspicuous against the pure white, before grasping Lex's hand.

Without turning, he drawled, "Victoria Hardwick. My my, what a surprise. And I thought you said you never wanted to see me ever again."

Lana watched as the girl, dressed in a low-cut skimpy tight red dress that probably cost more than the whole collection of Barbie dolls sitting on Lana's dresser, rubbed herself against Lex's side in a way that was probably illegal, dark tresses spilling over his shirt. "That was last week, Lex." A throaty laugh, husky low voice that almost purred, and Lana hated her then, hated her the way she hated that she was an orphan and not yet twenty one, hated her the way she hated the meteor shower that had taken her parents, hated her the way she hated her parents for the stifling silence when she talked to them.

A slow lick, words whispered in his ear, and Lana was left there, forgotten, a lost porcelain doll, just an accessory, pretty little girl with huge lost eyes.

Later that night, back in her own bedroom in Smallville, she touched herself for the first time, imagining larger hands over her body, imagining she was that blonde girl in the pool skinny-dipping with Lex, imagining she was that girl Victoria in the cloak room with Lex, imagining his lips against her skin, and those blue eyes looking into her own, imagining him whispering "I love you, Lana," into her ear.

She hated the way thinking all that and touching herself had made her feel, so good and alive, hated the way she couldn't stop; good girls do not touch themselves, and Lana knew she was a good girl.

It wasn't until years later when she saw him again, after Clark had saved Whitney, after Clark had saved Lex himself.

He had introduced himself, and she had been mildly peeved that he did not remember that they had met. It definitely had not gone the way she had envisioned their meeting to be after all these years.

She had brought up the skinny-dipping incident, not wanting to believe that she was that insignificant to his life, that he couldn't even remember that he had met her, that he couldn't remember she had caught him naked with some girl in the pool; couldn't afford to believe that all these years of fantasy of him falling in love with her after he saw that she had grown up, were just that --- fantasy, with no hopes of ever becoming reality.

All he had talked about was Clark; Clark whom she knew adored her, and Whitney, and how she was with the wrong guy, dropping hints about what Whitney had done to Clark. In that brief few minutes, all she had heard was Clark Kent this and Clark Kent that, and she wondered why he was making an effort to help boost Clark's position in her eyes.

After he left her more confused than ever, the only clear thought in her mind was Lex's link with Clark.

With that, she began making plans on how to integrate herself actively into Clark's life (an easy feat she reckoned), and therefore, Lex's.

After all, a girl never forgets her first crush.