Keysmith [NOT FANFICTION] ✓completed

Classified

"So tell me Lex," Madame began, seating herself opposite her guest and idly stirring her tea, "where is Levi from?"

"How do you know about Levi?" Lex frowned in surprise.

Madame shook her head with a slight chuckle.

"You mentioned him yourself, actually," she pointed out, "you said Levi would let you back into your apartment."

"Oh, right," Lex could feel his neck flushing slightly red in embarrassment, "he's just a kid, he's staying with me."

"Finding company in the youth, hmm?" Madame mused, "I did the same, it's why my niece stays with me. She's at school at the moment — Highcrest High, I'm assuming that's where your kid goes to school too?"

"Um, yeah. Levi's not my kid though, it's a temporary thing."

Madame raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to explain that one."

"He's the younger brother of a friend of mine. Their parents... aren't very alive, and Ray was caught doing — well, I don't actually know, something stupid no doubt, and is in prison. So he asked me to take care of Levi until he sits out his sentence or escapes, and seeing as how Levi was already on my doorstep, I couldn't really refuse."

Madame nodded, taking a sip of her tea.

"Ah, I understand. Being around something younger than you is good for you, Lex. People of different ages think differently, and being around someone who thinks differently keeps your mind sharp. Although I suppose you could argue coffee does that too."

She nodded the cup in his hands, and Lex grinned, stirring his coffee. It was still steaming, and — going by the warmth of the cup — too hot to drink.

"Yes, yes I suppose it does," he mumbled.

There was a peaceful silence, which Lex used to observe the room once more. It was like he was sitting in an ancient cathedral and royal palace mushed into once, somehow giving off an aura of royalty and wealth without seeming too overdone or materialistic.

"How is your job-hunting coming along?" Madame enquired, breaking the silence.

"I found a job," Lex replied proudly, "I'm working as a technician."

"Impressive. You could do bigger things, though."

"I know," Lex replied, a pained expression crossing his face, "but not without risking my cover."

"Cover? What cover?" Madame teased, "you only changed your surname, and barely at that. If you'd called that a cover in front of my old boss, she would've thrown a fit. Or thought you were joking. Or thrown a fit while desperately hoping that you were joking... you get my point."

Lex rolled his eyes, taking a small sip of his coffee.

The brown liquid overwhelmed his senses, warming his throat and seeming to dance in his mouth. This was good coffee, not like the poor quality stuff he could barely afford. Lex closed his eyes in a reflex of pure bliss, allowing himself to absorb the taste and save it for future reference.

When he opened his eyes, it was to Madame's bemused smile.

"Are you enjoying it?" she enquired, although the amusement in her voice showed that she knew the answer already.

"Yes, very much," Lex replied with a sheepish smile, before taking another small sip of coffee.

Don't gulp it all down at once, relish it.

"So..." he began, searching for a good branch on which to continue their conversational tree, "what was your job, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Madame dismissed the statement with a small wave of the teaspoon in her hand, "I used to work for a crime-hunting organization."

Lex took another sip of coffee, trying to drown out the uncomfortable feeling that was settling in his stomach.

"Really?" he enquired, hoping the question sounded genuine.

"Yes, really," Madame replied, seeming amused by his discomfort, "there's no need for you to worry though, I broke all ties with BRSS when I retired."

The name almost seemed to hit Lex literally, and he flinched involuntarily.

BRSS, the company that his brother Marshall worked for.

BRSS, the collective noun for all the people that hated him most.

BRSS, the name of his worst nightmare.

"Are you alright, Lex?" Madame enquired, worry evident in her voice, "my apologies, I shouldn't have sprung that on you so suddenly, but I figured you had the right to know. There's no need for concern, I won't tell them anything."

The living room seemed to be spinning as Lex tried to process the information, and he took another sip of coffee, hoping so bring his mind back to that peaceful state of several minutes earlier.

"It's... it's fine," Lex mumbled, slowly recovering, "I was just... caught off-guard, that's all. Did you really work for BRSS?"

"Yes," Madame nodded, before laughing softly, "I was even offered your brother's job as Officer of Strategy, long before he joined. I refused — I preferred fieldwork over deducing from the sidelines."

"That explains... a lot...."

Madame smiled.

"I rather thought it would."

There was a pause.

"Have you... have you ever met my brother?" Lex enquired.

"Yes, on a few occasions," Madame replied, her eyebrows creasing as she delved into her memory, "I knew his name, not much more. Of course I knew he was Lex London's brother and Officer of Strategy, but neither of those meant much to me — I prefer to judge people based on themselves, rather than positions or relatives. Your case has proven an excellent reason as to why that is a good idea — you and your brother aren't very similar, are you?"

Lex shook his head, smiling to himself.

"No, not really. We were so different that people struggled to believe we were brothers, until they started trying to figure out which of us was adopted. Then they usually realized that I had my father's hair and mother's eyes, and Marshall had father's eyes and mom's hair. Based off that they couldn't eliminate either of us, and either gave up with a laugh or stomped off in frustration."

"I think that's part of why nobody's caught you yet," Madame pointed out with a chuckle, "everyone who knows Marshall expects to see a resemblance, although there really isn't any. Except perhaps that you're both too stubborn for your own good."

Lex rolled his eyes once more, but accepted it as a compliment. He took another sip of his coffee, taking the time to appreciate what had to be the best liquid on the planet.

"Would you like to stay for lunch?" Madame enquired.

Lex's gaze flashed to the tall grandfather clock behind Madame, which told him that it was twelve-thirty.

"Only if it's really not too much trouble..." he began.

"No, not at all!" Madame exclaimed, "I enjoy your company, I just needed to know so I could prepare enough food for the both of us."

She drained the last of her tea, and as Lex swallowed another mouthful of coffee he realized that he too had reached the bottom of the cup.

Madame laughed at the crestfallen look on his face, gently taking the empty cup from him.

"I'll see what I have for lunch," she stated, moving to bring the two cups to the kitchen. Before she did so, however, she paused, turning to face Lex.

"And Lex?"

"Yes Madame?"

"Eat a cookie. They'll go stale otherwise."