FIC: SupesFans vs. LexMinions!
Title: SupesFans vs. LexMinions
LJ Name: ladydreamer
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Clex
Summary: During the long hours of insomnia, Lex finds an online forum dedicated to himself... and Superman.
Warnings: none
A.N.: This is an AU futurefic. There will be parts to come.
Part One ♥ Part Two ♥ Part Three: Fanfiction 101
Part Four: Epically Epic, and Other RPS Events
The day AkitaEvita was finally banned from The Superman/Lex Luthor Forums was epic, although not for the banning itself.
All in all, it had been a rather slow day on the forums. No new threads. Just a bit of activity in SoL (Stuff of Legends) continuing to pick apart the bits on the recent coverage of the Superman apology and Lex Luthor’s recovery in his private room at Le Sacre Coeur Hospital. One enterprising individual had made a techno dance mix interspersing the Superman apology with Lex railing angrily and a catchy beat. SnarkShark had promised to put her Supeshate aside and make a vid from it, earning herself many smilies from all.
No one was even wanking in the Supes vs Lex thread.
Then Intrepid posted a video from her phone to the current events thread, and the entire forum exploded.
The fans watched on as the Sex shippers’ dreams came true onscreen. Granted their standards were low; they’d never expected to see anything that might lend credence to their ship. But there it was, in a 256 color video driver.
This is unfucking believable. It’s LUTHOR, people. Lex fucking Luthor. It isn’t gratitude, it isn’t sweet, it isn’t anything but pure selfishness and glory-hounding. He did it to make himself look better. That’s all he EVER does. What part of he’s a psychopathic mass murderer don’t you get? You idiots supporting him are practically Nazi-supporters. Superman would NEVER NEVER be with a low piece of shit like that. Your sick and you need help if you think he’s worth sympathizing with. Seriously. Go get your meds checked. No, strike that. You need to kill yourselves. I have a rope.
---
That is really uncalled for, Akita. Did you miss the bit where Superman sees the best in people, or where he shows empathy? Get the off my side. You’re no real SupesFan.
---
Superman does not support this message >.>
---
Go fuck yourselves. I will NEVER lick LexMinion boot, no matter what you cowardly traitors do.
The discussion, as it were, devolved from that point onward. It was a few hours later when one of the moderators stepped in, deleted several messages, suspended a few users, and finally, banned AkitaEvita permanently.
She issued a message at the top of the thread:
When someone breaks the rules, as forum policy clearly states, you need to email me. Do not break the rules yourself. Those of you who have received suspensions: Learn from this and come back in a week. For the rest of you, from now on discussion of current events will occur in other threads. For this thread, just post your current event and take the discussion to the appropriate thread.
Secondly, rule number one. No attacking other fans or fan groups. There is no excuse for this.
Finally, it is never, ever okay for you guys to tell one another to commit suicide. Not even in jest. Don’t test me. I have two small children at home and a short temper for adults whose behavior is worse than theirs.
That afternoon when Lex logged in, he couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened, so he messaged Intrepid.
Shine, you missed all the excitement. It started this morning with this post I made to the current events thread, she told him, then sent the link.
Apology Accepted
...
Seven Hours Ago
Lex felt almost beholden to tell the fans thank you, in some small way. Even if they hadn’t intended for him to see, or known that he had, or directed their supportive comments to him, precisely. He still wanted to do something for them. No one else showed such concern for the wellbeing of Lex Luthor who wasn’t paid to do so, and the fans had created a thread when he was in the hospital to begin discussing how to make him feel better. Thus, when flowers had been delivered, he wasn’t surprised, but still delighted. He knew he would have them pressed and saved later on, and the card wishing him well would be laminated and preserved. They’d also sent him chocolates and a small, purple plush bear. He didn’t normally indulge, and he still wasn’t allowed to eat much, but he had taken a bite of one of the chocolates and enjoyed the sweetness for a lingering moment.
When Mercy came in, she eyed the purple bear sitting on the nightstand by Lex’s bed.
“I don’t suppose that’s been tested for contaminants or explosives,” she stated dryly.
“It’s from friends.” Lex pushed himself up a little and put a hand on his chest. “It’s time for me to get out of here, Mercy. I’ve done enough laying around.”
“Sir, it’s too soon-”
“I know I have some healing to do, but I hardly plan to engage in vigorous activity or swing between skyscrapers. Besides, for what I have planned, I’ll need a visible wound.” Lex moved slowly to throw his legs over the side of the bed.
“You have a plan?” Mercy moved quickly to his side to help him up. “Does this have to do with Superman’s ‘apology’?”
“Something to do with it, yes.” Once on his feet, Lex pushed air in and out of his lungs slowly. It felt a lot less like his stitches might not hold him together. He motioned towards the gifts. “Have those taken to the penthouse, and call for a press meeting.”
If all else failed, it would give them something to talk about.
***
It was a bit cold for Lex’s taste, but he did have difficulty retaining his body heat on a good day, let alone when he was healing from severe internal injuries. He didn’t have the body fat reserves to keep him warm, or the hair to prevent heat from escaping.
Nevertheless, Lex pulled his black coat around him and approached the podium, smirking slightly when he saw Lois Lane among the other vulturous reporters, her long, perfect hair being mussed by the wind. Childish, he knew, but he refused to be ashamed. One of his favorite threads spent a good deal of time talking about why Lex was better for Superman than she, although he couldn’t spend much time on it for fear of busting his stitches laughing. He doubted their reasons for disliking her were anywhere similar to his own, since he was hardly vying for Superman’s attentions, but it amused him nonetheless.
“Thank you all for coming today.” Lex spoke clearly into the microphone, his voice booming out over the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowd for Clark Kent, but he couldn’t see the man. Clark seemed to blend into crowds easily, even if his bulk dictated he should stand out. Lane must have gotten the assignment instead. She routinely covered anything to do with Superman, and tried to get her hands on any piece of dirt she could uncover for Lex as well.
He continued. “As you are already aware, a week ago I sustained some rather serious injuries when what should have been a routine patrol from the Justice League turned quite... explosive.”
Despite the cold, he began to unbutton his shirt underneath.
“While we are still investigating those responsible for the bombing of my facility, Superman has taken the time, publicly, to apologize for his part in this matter and the damage done to my person.”
He pulled his shirt open to reveal the grotesque stitches that were still embedded in his red, tender flesh. A series of flashes inundated Lex, and he waited for them to die a little before closing his shirt to the cold.
“I find that I would be remiss if I were not to likewise address the matter publicly.” Lex looked out over the crowd with as earnest an expression as he could muster. “I trust you will get this message to him: Superman, apology accepted. We all make mistakes in our zeal to do the right thing, and though in the past I would have found your excuses to be insincere, having viewed the apology personally, I am persuaded that it was not your intention to hurt or kill me. Rather, it was a mistake, as we all are prone to making.”
The reporters were whipped into a fury, but he wasn’t particularly interested in answering questions. He was tiring now, and the cold on his wound bit terribly. He was moving back from the podium when he spotted a familiar flash of red in the sky.
It was Superman’s cape.
Within seconds he was on the platform with Lex, who instinctively backed away from the massive alien. Mentally, he scolded himself for the rush of adrenaline and his pounding heart. This public display was meant to show his own openness to reconciliation, even if it were impossible, not to show that he was afraid of this huge violent brute.
Superman’s mask of judgment softened as he offered his hand and mouthed, “I’m not here to hurt you again.”
Lex realized that Superman surely could hear his frantic heartbeat and had surmised he needed assurance. His cheeks reddened. How embarrassing. He met Superman’s hand with his own and said, loud enough for the microphone to pick up:
“Be gentle with me, Superman. I’m only human.”
It was a line from one of most widely read Sex ‘classics’ on the forum.
Then he leaned forward and completed the handshake with an embrace. Supeman stood still in surprise, then gently put his arm around Lex’s back. There was another flood of flashes. This would be a front page article for Lane, to be sure.
Let her simmer in that. The fangirls who had sent him comfort and well-wishes during his stay at the hospital would be over the moon.
***
“Lois, look,” Perry said irritably in his signature Southern drawl, which became more pronounced whenever he tried to placate one of his temperamental reporters. “Now, I know he’s a snake. You know he’s a snake. But the facts don’t support an expose here. It’s a puff piece at best. So ya either write the story for what it is, or I’ll hand it off to another reporter.”
“Perry, he’s clearly using the situation to cover up whatever he was doing in that facility.” Lois threw out one hand in exasperation, as if to illustrate her point. “I don’t even believe Superman really hurt him. That’s gotta be a trick. He leaked the story himself to make Superman feel bad, and then when Superman, being the good guy he is, takes the bait and apologizes, Luthor capitalizes on the situation and comes out to make himself look good.”
“Were the stitches real?” Perry countered.
Lois sighed and crossed her arms. “They looked fake to me. Any make-up artist from a B movie these days could pull something like that together.”
“Proof! Proof! I need more proof than that, Lois. You know that.” Perry sat back in his chair and pulled out his afternoon cigar. With the regulations these days, he’d have to go out in the stairwell to smoke it, and he was getting antsy with Lane grilling him like this. “Get out there. Hit the mattresses. Go to the damn hospital if you need to and put the fire under some nurses. But if you’re gonna prove Luthor’s faking-- which I’m with you on--” he pointed out, raising a hand, “then I need you to do the work.”
“Fine! That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
“I still need this press conference covered tout suite,” Perry tapped his cigar on the edge of his desk.
Lois twisted her lips and caught sight of Clark about to knock on the doorframe. “Give it to Smallville. Lois Lane doesn’t cover fake news.”
She stormed passed Clark and slammed her small notepad into his hands.
“I... er... What am I covering now?”
Perry sighed and stood from his desk. “We need someone to write up the Luthor press conference. I know you weren’t there, but could you manage it?”
“Maybe?” Clark looked at Lois’ scribblings on the notepad. “Huh. I thought Lois wanted this one? “Superman is mine,” right?”
“She doesn’t believe Luthor means it. She thinks he set up the whole incident to make Supes look bad. It’s possible. I’ll give her a long leash and see what she comes up with.” Perry walked around his desk and plucked his lighter off of it. “I’m gonna head out for a sec. You good to start on that? Everyone’s going to have it in their papers by the evening edition. If it’s a blurb, we need it by then. If it’s more, we can put it on the front page tomorrow with one of the pictures Olsen took.”
“I think I can make something of it. Why does she think Luthor’s wounds are fake? I mean, he was terrified of Superman today. The stitches were real. He must have really hurt him,” Clark replied with a frown.
Perry straightened up. “Terrified? He was? Said who?”
“Er... um.” Clark slumped down a little further and licked over his lower lip. “I saw Supes a little earlier. About... something else. He mentioned it.”
“Huh. How’d he feel about that hug?”
Clark shrugged. “He didn’t know what to make of it. Why does Luthor do anything, though? I don’t think he gets a lot of hugs. Maybe he needed one after having a twenty pound piece of metal through ‘im.”
Perry chuckled. “I’d sure have liked to see that look on ol’ Luthor’s face when Superman popped up next to him on that podium. Terrified, huh?”
“There’s no need to be mean about it,” Clark objected.
“Give us a good story, Clark.” Perry gave Clark a pat on the back as he hurried out to smoke his cigar, laughing heartily at the notion of Luthor scared.
***
“I need your help.” Clark plopped down in his chair and scooted over to where Chloe was working on her laptop. “You aren’t still reading fanfiction, are you?”
“No, amazingly enough I’m writing up a story I’ve been investigating for three months. All play and no work makes Chloe an unemployed girl. Hang on a sec.”
“I have a moral dilemma.”
“... and you’re coming to me for that? I thought your diet of moral fiber was abundant without going to women notably lacking in boundaries for advice that you aren’t going to take anyway.”
“Shut up. I just need to say this out loud and hear someone else’s opinion.”
“Okay, okay. I’ve saved. Let’s go.” Chloe turned around and cocked a brow.
“Well, um.” Clark looked up pointedly.
“It’s cold,” Chloe protested. She sighed, put up her laptop, and got her coat. “To the roof.”
Once they’d taken the elevator up, Chloe wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at Clark. “Okay, tell me before I die of hypothermia.”
“It isn’t that cold,” Clark scoffed.
“Says he who came from an ice planet.” Chloe paced around to keep herself warm. “What is it, Clark? Is it about the conference this morning?”
“Good guess.”
“Well, we’re not up here because Clark Kent has questions to ask about how to get a stain out of a shirt.” Chloe turned back toward him and bit her lip, waiting for Clark to speak again.
“Perry wants me to cover the conference for Lois.”
“Yeah?”
“And I think he’s expecting a bit of Superman’s perspective on it.”
Chloe tilted her head. “Why would he expect that?”
“I might have said that Superman and I talked about it.” Clark winced at his own flub.
“Did you mean to say that you and Superman talked?”
“Not so much.” Clark groaned. “I used to be good at this dual identity thing, but Lois is going off on an investigation because she thinks Lex is faking his injuries-”
“I know Lex’s resilience is well-nigh unbelievable, but I really doubt that’s the case,” Chloe interrupted.
“No, I know they’re real. I saw them on stage, and when I went to visit him in the hospital.”
“Wait.” Chloe held up her hand like a stop sign. “You visited him in the hospital? You didn’t tell me about that.”
“I didn’t want you to make a big deal about it,” Clark grumbled.
“I think it’s a big deal. I’m surprised no one reported on Supes making a personal call to Lex Luthor.”
“I didn’t go as Superman.”
Chloe’s quirking lips stilled, and she regarded Clark seriously for a moment. “You went as Clark? He must have been surprised.”
“Incredulous. And stubborn about talking about his injuries. They’re real, Chloe.” Clark shook his head then looked up at the gray sky. “It’s a miracle he made it at all.”
“Hm. Maybe. And what does this have to do with you slipping on your dual identity?”
“I let it slip that Lex was scared when Superman showed up to accept his er... acceptance. And he wanted to know how I knew that...” Clark let his eyes follow a group of birds flying high across the Metropolis sky. Too high for them to be seen below the thick cloud cover that seemed to prognosticate heavy rain later. “I haven’t made dumb mistakes like that since I started doing this.”
“You’re a little distracted,” Chloe surmised, sounding a bit distracted herself.
“You could say that. Yeah.” Clark looked down at Chloe and stretched his back. Slumping all the time at work was effective but irritating, and it actually made him a little mopey, he’d found.
“What was your moral conundrum then?”
“Perry wants me to write about what happened up there. I feel like I’d be betraying Lex if I described in more detail how he reacted when Superman appeared. I mean, he did accept the apology after all.
That’s a pretty huge deal for Lex Luthor.” Clark shoved his hands in his pockets, his forehead crinkling. “He hates Superman.”
Chloe rubbed her fingers over her lips, staring with pensive intensity at a puddle on the far side of the roof. “Hate’s a strong word, Clark,” she almost whispered.
“You don’t think he hates me?”
“I think he likes you, Clark. He always has. Back in Smallville... I think he loved you a little.”
Clark made a scoffing noise, but Chloe continued.
“Superman’s a different story. I’m sorry, Clark, but if you spill that he was vulnerable up there, his anger will go right back to Superman, and not to you. I think it’s convenient for you that you can let him be angry at another person while still benefiting from Lex’s goodwill, but-- and consider that I’ve long conceded the moral high ground to you simply from a lack of traditional values of any kind-- but it will be a betrayal.”
“Ouch.”
“What ouch? I just said I’m the amoral soulless one here. But you know better than that. Why is it ouch if I’m telling you what you’re telling yourself?” Chloe protested. “Isn’t that why you pulled me up here? To hear out loud what you’re thinking?”
Clark shook his head. “I just wasn’t expecting your judgment on how Lex and I interact. I can’t help it if he still has fond memories of Clark Kent.”
“Do you think it’s cool of you to use Superman as a buffer and enjoy Lex’s sympathy as Clark? Oh, more righteous than thou boyscout?”
“No, I don’t. And I don’t spend any more time than I have to with him as Clark. I’m not doing that,” Clark argued, feeling himself grow warm, which he rarely did for any other reason than embarrassment. Or being in a volcano.
“You were with him in the hospital,” Chloe pointed out bluntly. “That was time you had to?”
Clark opened his mouth to argue again, then turned away.
“I have work to do.” Chloe sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Clark. I really am. I didn’t mean to be so harsh on you, and I shouldn’t unload on you. I just know that Lex takes friendship a lot more seriously than you do- I mean, he takes small things that we would overlook because you and I have had the luxury of a lot of friends throughout our lives, and they mean so much more to him.” She shrugged and headed back toward the stairwell. “Don’t throw this beginning away for a story that took no effort to get and means very little to anyone.”
As Chloe reached the door, Clark spoke, “You never got over him leaving, did you?”
“I did.” Chloe touched the handle, then felt over the cold metal with a frown. “I understood. Eventually.”
With that, Chloe disappeared down the stairs, her broad heels clicking on every step down. Clark walked over to the edge of the building, wondering why Chloe got so defensive of their old friend, and why she seemed to have forgiven him for his disappearing act.
Clark had been a little jealous when he’d seen Chloe’s affections for him dim due to the repeated disappointments and his then obsession with Lana Lang, but Chloe’d never admit that she’d been nursing a crush on Lex during most of her sophomore year. At one point it seemed like she was spending more time at the castle than at The Torch. Then suddenly, Lex was gone back to Metropolis. The next Clark had heard of him, Lex was participating in a huge trial against his father and the head of the mob.
It was hard for Clark to imagine a place for Lex in his life, even if people on the internet seemed to think they were perfect for each other. They just didn’t know Lex the way he did, he supposed. They couldn’t, if they really thought Lex Luthor would be satisfied forever with not knowing Clark’s secrets, or if they thought the two of them could ever be ideologically compatible. From everything Clark knew from intel via the JLA, Lex had gone darker and darker over the years.
With a sigh, Clark lifted his head and raised his face to the sky, feeling the first drops of rain to make it this close to Earth.
***
“Sir, you have a visitor,” Domovoi, Lex’s head butler, informed him.
In his study, he sat, reclining stiffly as he and Mercy discussed how to recover the research that had been lost in the most recent explosion. He’d glibly suggested that they lay a trap for their sneaky corporate terrorists, something nasty and biological, that would cause the culprits to swell up into giant blueberries.
That had actually caused Mercy to crack a smile.
“You are a card, boss,” she stated. With a swivel of her head, she looked to Domovoi and tightened her lips. “What kind of visitor?”
“A reporter, madam,” Domovoi answered. The twitch of his facial muscles told Lex more than the man’s words did.
“Yes? Bespectacled, huge, and awkward? Or raven-haired, strident, and perpetually windmill-tilting?” Lex angled his chair around to face the man.
“I fail to see how all those adjectives are not applicable at once, in this case.”
Lex grinned. “Oh, come on. Clark isn’t strident. He’s shy.”
“He’s perfectly outspoken in his articles,” Mercy put in with an unamused twist of her lips.
“Indeed.” Lex put both of his hands to the side of his chair and took a breath before trying to get up.
“Sir.” Mercy was at his side in a moment, despite Lex’s shaking head. She clasped his wrists and brought him to his feet.
“Thank you. All right. Let me see this strident by the written word reporter.”
“Are you sure you want to see him? I don’t want to encourage reporters coming to your home,” Mercy warned.
“I’m not sure he’s here about a story. If he is, I’ll send him away,” Lex decided. He walked slowly out of the office, with Mercy right at his heels.
When they reached the foyer, Mercy approached Clark, undeterred by his stammering at her, and began to pat him down. It was almost endearing, the way that Clark looked to Lex for help with a woman touching him.
She was done soon enough and gave Clark a sharp look before nodding to Lex and swiftly exiting. “Let me know if you need anything, boss.”
Lex shot a wry look after her. Under that facade of subservience, a thin facade, Mercy had become more his partner than his employee. She’d likely be listening in on their conversation through the security surveillance, and coming in later if Lex were stressed beyond a level of her approval.
“That was interesting,” Clark said. He probably only spoke to break the ice.
“Probably the most a woman’s touched you this year, hm, Clark?” Lex teased. He bit back a laugh at Clark’s resulting expression. “I’m kidding you. What can I do for you?”
“Um, I came here to talk to you. I’m working on a story-”
Lex lifted his chin and straightened his back. “I’m not in the mood for an interview right now. You’ll have to find some other way to pass your afternoon.”
“Don’t throw me out, Lex. I didn’t come for an interview. I came...” Clark sighed. “Lois doesn’t want to cover the press conference this morning, so she handed it to me. Chloe won’t take it because... I don’t know why-”
“Lois doesn’t want the story? That’s delightful.” Lex couldn’t help himself this time. He laughed. Pressing his hand to his stitches, he laughed, and he laughed hard.
“Simmer down, Lex,” Clark said with exasperation.
“Oh, that’s the best. I ruined her Superman story by being nice to the guy for once. I love it. Lois Lane gives up a front page article. It’s like I pissed in her Cheerios.”
“Why do you have such a problem with her?”
“She’s annoying to me. At least when you slam me, you have a sense of poetry about it.” Lex drew in a deep breath, trying to stop shaking. “God, I needed that laugh. Come on in. I need to sit down.”
“It’s good to see you walking around,” Clark commented, following him down the long hallway.
“It’s good to be vertical again.” Lex took Clark to one of his sitting rooms and gestured for the big man to sit on the sofa (as he imagined Clark would have enough room to spread his bulk out, if he chose). Lex took the armchair, since it would be easier for him to get out of. “What’s so troubling about this story that Chloe doesn’t even want it? She can’t stand to write a good word of me either?”
“Not exactly. It’s more that Lois thinks you’re faking-”
“I’m sorry, what? I showed them my stitches.”
“Don’t ask. And Chloe knows that Perry wants more than what everyone else is going to be reporting on the front page tomorrow but won’t stretch the truth from sources she’s only heard second-hand.”
Narrowing his eyes, Lex rubbed his index finger over his lip. “Meaning?”
“He wants to write a story that insinuates that you’re scared of Superman.”
Lex’s expression of curious interest soured quickly into disapproval and his temper shortened considerably. “What would give him the impression that would be remotely true?”
“Well, I don’t know, he um, I guess-”
“Cut the stammering, Clark. What did he tell you?” Lex barked.
“Perry? He said-”
“Not White. Superman. He talked to you, did he?”
“It’s not his fault. We were just... I was the one who slipped and said it to Perry.”
Lex licked his lips slowly. “Thanks a lot, Clark.”
“Sorry.” Clark turned his head and sighed.
“And for the record, I wasn’t scared. He appears in front of you much in the way Batman disappears. While the latter may be aggravating, or a relief I’d guess, the former tends to make the heart race as much as it would if anyone snuck up on you. If I were afraid of Superman, I wouldn’t profit much from our continued encounters, would I?”
“I guess not.” Clark nodded thoughtfully. “I’m glad you aren’t scared of him. He’s... like a bull in a China shop sometimes.”
“And I’m fine China?”
“I think to him, mostly, people are like fine China.”
“My heart rends for him. Truly.”
“So... Well, if you want, this is off the record, but why did you accept Superman’s apology?”
As Clark fiddled with his glasses, Lex crossed his ankle over his knee and considered the question. “For starters, he meant it. Additionally, unlike other attempts at PR, I don’t think that there was any way this could benefit him more than hurt him. Admitting his fallibility is a knock to the perfect image that the citizens of Metropolis have of him, an image I’ve long argued to be dangerous. He needs that image intact to continue working unhindered by human authorities, both elected and appointed. Nonetheless, he gambled that vision the people have of him to make this apology, to admit fault, and to essentially set a better example for his fellow vigilantes. It was a risk, but as far as gambits go, a smart one.”
“I think you give him more credit than he deserves in regards to PR. He’s not that cunning.”
“He’s not a fool. He’s dense, at times, obtuse, woefully short-sighted as I can be, I suppose, far-sighted, but no, I don’t think he was unaware of the possible outcomes, even if he likely didn’t spend more than a minute considering them.” Lex tapped his fingers on his ankle. “Under the right circumstances, if I wanted to-- and I trust that he distrusts me enough to have considered this-- the kernel of doubt in Superman’s perfection could be the first step in a much larger plan to ruin the public’s belief in him entirely, to the point that he would be hounded by humanity at every turn. Public enemy number one. People would run away from him as he tried to save them. People would buy bits of Kryptonite for personal security. The police would resist him at every turn, and lose lives for it. Lawsuits would follow him wherever he dared show his head, and the President himself would put out a warrant for his arrest. Superman, terrorist.”
Clark paled and inched away from Lex.
“I’m not admitting to you my master plan, Clark. I don’t plan to do that,” Lex assured him. “I’m just giving you some perspective on what Superman has at stake when he admits a fault like that. I’m not afraid of him any more than I’m particularly afraid of being stepped on by a careless elephant. But people might be, if it occurred to them that he could accidentally snuff their puny lives out without a thought about it. It’s lucky for him that I survived. Imagine the press if he’d accidentally killed me.”
“That’s not why it’s lucky you’re alive. If you’d died, Superman wouldn’t be thinking about his rep,” Clark protested.
“He’d be thinking about it once, when the authorities were forced to put out a warrant for manslaughter.”
Clark shook his head. “Your mind is horrifying.”
“I follow thoughts to their logical conclusion. But you’re missing my point if you’re busy being horrified. You asked why I accepted his apology. It’s because of this: Superman had to sacrifice a bit of his pride and the security he enjoys through his untarnished reputation to apologize to me. That makes it a rare gift indeed, and one I wouldn’t snub for the world.” Lex raised a brow and smirked slightly. “You can run for the door, now.”
Clark was silent for a moment more before he laughed softly. “No running. But I am impressed that you answered my question, for once. Usually you go on forever and never actually get to what I asked!”
“So you think. Maybe if you had some more patience, you’d realize I had answered your question.”
“Maybe. And you didn’t have any ulterior motives with the acceptance?”
“Would I be me if I didn’t? Though I rather doubt my motives are what you think.”
“It hurt his position in your little war to issue an apology.” Clark shrugged. “For you to accept it, and to say everyone makes mistakes... That hurts your position, too.”
Lex closed his eyes and nodded once. “It does. It’s a concession I’m willing to make.”
“For whom? Not you. Not him.”
“I’ll let you wonder on that one.” Lex had to admit that he enjoyed teasing Clark, even as he wished the man were as boyish and easy to smile as he had been as well... a boy.
“And the hug?” Clark prodded with an arched brow.
“The manly hug,” Lex corrected.
“‘Be gentle with me, Superman. I’m only human’? What was that about? It’s like...” Clark thought for a moment, looking over at a tall marble stature of a woman pouring water. “Hm. Like the entire meeting had an underlying message that we’re all flawed.”
“Maybe we are. Maybe there are no heroes, no villains, no gods among men, or devils of the same. Humans too often reduce complex situations, issues, and ideologies to binaries, because we want black and white. In reality, though, your black and white situations are rarer than you’d think.”
“I like black and white. It’s safer,” Clark admitted.
“I know your father raised you that way,” Lex conceded.
Clark sighed.
“Does that help you with your moral conundrum of the story? Are you going to tell the public that Lex Luthor is suffering from Post-Traumatic Superman Syndrome?” The slightest of smiles curved Lex’s lips.
Clark laughed again. “Hm. Depends on whether this conversation is on the record or not. I don’t know that I want to be the one to coin Post-Traumatic Supes Syndrome.”
“You can save it for Lois. She’ll love it.” Lex touched his index and middle finger to his temple as he leaned into his hand.
“One of these days, I think the two of you are going to end up in bed together. All that antagonism,” Clark remarked.
Lex scrunched his face up and shuddered. When Clark grinned wickedly, Lex felt a sense of relief. He knew that grin. That grin... When he told Lex that a criminal mastermind would wear a mask.
“You do still have a sense of humor, Clark. I’d though it had been surgically removed somewhere along the line,” Lex teased.
“I’m usually working when we see each other. It’s still there.”
“If this is on the record, aren’t you working now?”
“I thought you didn’t want to give an interview.”
Lex shrugged his head to the side. “Less of an interview. Consider it two old friends getting together for a talk. It’s not your fault of you have contacts that Lois just doesn’t have.”
“You’re awful. I think...” Clark whipped out his notepad and began scribbling. “What was it? ‘Maybe there are no heroes, no villains, no gods among men, or devils of the same...’”
“You have a good memory.”
“It helps in being a reporter. Or a lazy high school student,” Clark joked.
“You were never lazy,” Lex objected. “Busy, yes. I remember that. You worked on your father’s farm, and that’s not easy for a young man to do while in school. You also helped your mother with her charities.”
“Hmph. I remember Principal Reynolds thinking I was lazy, directionless, and hung out with a bad crowd.”
“Reynolds?” Lex frowned. “That wouldn’t happen to have been Terrance Reynolds, was it? He was the headmaster at my private school. Well, one of them.”
Clark looked up with surprise. “Um. Yes. And you drove me to school once, when I was late. A bad crowd? He wasn’t happy about me being friends with you.”
“Wasn’t he? Why would he be like that? I found him to be rather inspirational. He was tough, but fair, and I liked him for that.”
“Well, he had some kind of grudge against you, and he took it out on me,” Clark explained, seeming a little confused. “He made me write an essay on what I’d be doing in five years.”
“I’m sorry my friendship came with such a high cost.”
Clark’s eyes were wide now, staring at Lex from behind thick glasses. “Lex, do you really not remember?”
Feeling his cheeks grow warm, Lex thinned his lips and shifted in his seat. He wished he could get up and pace around. It helped if he could face away from someone when he needed to cover. “That was a long time ago.”
“I thought you’d remember that, though.” Clark set down his notepad and looked at Lex closely. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, Clark. I just get a bit tired. I’ll be back up to my old energy soon enough,” Lex breezed. He knew, though, that Clark’s concern for his current injuries was misplaced, if it involved Lex’s poor memory recall of that year.
“Maybe I’ve stayed long enough.” Clark got up and walked over to Lex’s side to pat his shoulder. When Lex moved to get up, Clark quickly took his hand. “Thanks for the chat, Lex. And the direction. Perry won’t get what he wants, but with you and Superman both giving something to this article, he won’t have much room to complain.”
“Precisely.” Lex smiled up at Clark and let the big man help him up. He patted Clark’s arm lightly.
“I don’t know if the war between you and Superman is over, but I’m glad that it’s cooling down, at least.”
Lex tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I’m sure you’re not the only one who will be.”
***
Seven Hours Later
Apology Accepted
Did you see that HUG?? It was sooooooo sweet. Gosh, it’s more than I EVAR hoped for! *bounces around like an idiot*
---
It looked a little stiff to me.
---
Come on, Dana. Lex has tons of stitches in him. Do you think Supes would pick him up and swing him around? He’s CAREFUL with him. That’s the sweetest part, to me.
---
I’m dying over here. He said that line from “For Poorer or Richer.” FOR POORER OR RICHER!!! Did he READ that? Did someone in his employ read that and tell him about it? I think I’m going to die, for real! My heart is going too fast!
---
Maybe someone sent him a get well letter, and mentioned the line?
---
Maybe. Do you think he liked the bear? I’m afraid it was too silly for him.
Lex grinned widely and began to type, I have it on good authority, girls, that he’s quite fond of that bear, and despite his bodyguard’s disapproving glares and desire to test it for explosives, he’s keeping it in his room.
The boards went on and on with delighted and disbelieving remarks, but the SoL board was overwhelmingly excited.
EEEEE!!!! It’s SEXMAS!!
Lex chuckled and decided that he’d arrange a ‘candid’ shot of himself with the bear.
LJ Name: ladydreamer
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Clex
Summary: During the long hours of insomnia, Lex finds an online forum dedicated to himself... and Superman.
Warnings: none
A.N.: This is an AU futurefic. There will be parts to come.
Part One ♥ Part Two ♥ Part Three: Fanfiction 101
Part Four: Epically Epic, and Other RPS Events
The day AkitaEvita was finally banned from The Superman/Lex Luthor Forums was epic, although not for the banning itself.
All in all, it had been a rather slow day on the forums. No new threads. Just a bit of activity in SoL (Stuff of Legends) continuing to pick apart the bits on the recent coverage of the Superman apology and Lex Luthor’s recovery in his private room at Le Sacre Coeur Hospital. One enterprising individual had made a techno dance mix interspersing the Superman apology with Lex railing angrily and a catchy beat. SnarkShark had promised to put her Supeshate aside and make a vid from it, earning herself many smilies from all.
No one was even wanking in the Supes vs Lex thread.
Then Intrepid posted a video from her phone to the current events thread, and the entire forum exploded.
The fans watched on as the Sex shippers’ dreams came true onscreen. Granted their standards were low; they’d never expected to see anything that might lend credence to their ship. But there it was, in a 256 color video driver.
This is unfucking believable. It’s LUTHOR, people. Lex fucking Luthor. It isn’t gratitude, it isn’t sweet, it isn’t anything but pure selfishness and glory-hounding. He did it to make himself look better. That’s all he EVER does. What part of he’s a psychopathic mass murderer don’t you get? You idiots supporting him are practically Nazi-supporters. Superman would NEVER NEVER be with a low piece of shit like that. Your sick and you need help if you think he’s worth sympathizing with. Seriously. Go get your meds checked. No, strike that. You need to kill yourselves. I have a rope.
---
That is really uncalled for, Akita. Did you miss the bit where Superman sees the best in people, or where he shows empathy? Get the off my side. You’re no real SupesFan.
---
Superman does not support this message >.>
---
Go fuck yourselves. I will NEVER lick LexMinion boot, no matter what you cowardly traitors do.
The discussion, as it were, devolved from that point onward. It was a few hours later when one of the moderators stepped in, deleted several messages, suspended a few users, and finally, banned AkitaEvita permanently.
She issued a message at the top of the thread:
When someone breaks the rules, as forum policy clearly states, you need to email me. Do not break the rules yourself. Those of you who have received suspensions: Learn from this and come back in a week. For the rest of you, from now on discussion of current events will occur in other threads. For this thread, just post your current event and take the discussion to the appropriate thread.
Secondly, rule number one. No attacking other fans or fan groups. There is no excuse for this.
Finally, it is never, ever okay for you guys to tell one another to commit suicide. Not even in jest. Don’t test me. I have two small children at home and a short temper for adults whose behavior is worse than theirs.
That afternoon when Lex logged in, he couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened, so he messaged Intrepid.
Shine, you missed all the excitement. It started this morning with this post I made to the current events thread, she told him, then sent the link.
Apology Accepted
...
Seven Hours Ago
Lex felt almost beholden to tell the fans thank you, in some small way. Even if they hadn’t intended for him to see, or known that he had, or directed their supportive comments to him, precisely. He still wanted to do something for them. No one else showed such concern for the wellbeing of Lex Luthor who wasn’t paid to do so, and the fans had created a thread when he was in the hospital to begin discussing how to make him feel better. Thus, when flowers had been delivered, he wasn’t surprised, but still delighted. He knew he would have them pressed and saved later on, and the card wishing him well would be laminated and preserved. They’d also sent him chocolates and a small, purple plush bear. He didn’t normally indulge, and he still wasn’t allowed to eat much, but he had taken a bite of one of the chocolates and enjoyed the sweetness for a lingering moment.
When Mercy came in, she eyed the purple bear sitting on the nightstand by Lex’s bed.
“I don’t suppose that’s been tested for contaminants or explosives,” she stated dryly.
“It’s from friends.” Lex pushed himself up a little and put a hand on his chest. “It’s time for me to get out of here, Mercy. I’ve done enough laying around.”
“Sir, it’s too soon-”
“I know I have some healing to do, but I hardly plan to engage in vigorous activity or swing between skyscrapers. Besides, for what I have planned, I’ll need a visible wound.” Lex moved slowly to throw his legs over the side of the bed.
“You have a plan?” Mercy moved quickly to his side to help him up. “Does this have to do with Superman’s ‘apology’?”
“Something to do with it, yes.” Once on his feet, Lex pushed air in and out of his lungs slowly. It felt a lot less like his stitches might not hold him together. He motioned towards the gifts. “Have those taken to the penthouse, and call for a press meeting.”
If all else failed, it would give them something to talk about.
***
It was a bit cold for Lex’s taste, but he did have difficulty retaining his body heat on a good day, let alone when he was healing from severe internal injuries. He didn’t have the body fat reserves to keep him warm, or the hair to prevent heat from escaping.
Nevertheless, Lex pulled his black coat around him and approached the podium, smirking slightly when he saw Lois Lane among the other vulturous reporters, her long, perfect hair being mussed by the wind. Childish, he knew, but he refused to be ashamed. One of his favorite threads spent a good deal of time talking about why Lex was better for Superman than she, although he couldn’t spend much time on it for fear of busting his stitches laughing. He doubted their reasons for disliking her were anywhere similar to his own, since he was hardly vying for Superman’s attentions, but it amused him nonetheless.
“Thank you all for coming today.” Lex spoke clearly into the microphone, his voice booming out over the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowd for Clark Kent, but he couldn’t see the man. Clark seemed to blend into crowds easily, even if his bulk dictated he should stand out. Lane must have gotten the assignment instead. She routinely covered anything to do with Superman, and tried to get her hands on any piece of dirt she could uncover for Lex as well.
He continued. “As you are already aware, a week ago I sustained some rather serious injuries when what should have been a routine patrol from the Justice League turned quite... explosive.”
Despite the cold, he began to unbutton his shirt underneath.
“While we are still investigating those responsible for the bombing of my facility, Superman has taken the time, publicly, to apologize for his part in this matter and the damage done to my person.”
He pulled his shirt open to reveal the grotesque stitches that were still embedded in his red, tender flesh. A series of flashes inundated Lex, and he waited for them to die a little before closing his shirt to the cold.
“I find that I would be remiss if I were not to likewise address the matter publicly.” Lex looked out over the crowd with as earnest an expression as he could muster. “I trust you will get this message to him: Superman, apology accepted. We all make mistakes in our zeal to do the right thing, and though in the past I would have found your excuses to be insincere, having viewed the apology personally, I am persuaded that it was not your intention to hurt or kill me. Rather, it was a mistake, as we all are prone to making.”
The reporters were whipped into a fury, but he wasn’t particularly interested in answering questions. He was tiring now, and the cold on his wound bit terribly. He was moving back from the podium when he spotted a familiar flash of red in the sky.
It was Superman’s cape.
Within seconds he was on the platform with Lex, who instinctively backed away from the massive alien. Mentally, he scolded himself for the rush of adrenaline and his pounding heart. This public display was meant to show his own openness to reconciliation, even if it were impossible, not to show that he was afraid of this huge violent brute.
Superman’s mask of judgment softened as he offered his hand and mouthed, “I’m not here to hurt you again.”
Lex realized that Superman surely could hear his frantic heartbeat and had surmised he needed assurance. His cheeks reddened. How embarrassing. He met Superman’s hand with his own and said, loud enough for the microphone to pick up:
“Be gentle with me, Superman. I’m only human.”
It was a line from one of most widely read Sex ‘classics’ on the forum.
Then he leaned forward and completed the handshake with an embrace. Supeman stood still in surprise, then gently put his arm around Lex’s back. There was another flood of flashes. This would be a front page article for Lane, to be sure.
Let her simmer in that. The fangirls who had sent him comfort and well-wishes during his stay at the hospital would be over the moon.
***
“Lois, look,” Perry said irritably in his signature Southern drawl, which became more pronounced whenever he tried to placate one of his temperamental reporters. “Now, I know he’s a snake. You know he’s a snake. But the facts don’t support an expose here. It’s a puff piece at best. So ya either write the story for what it is, or I’ll hand it off to another reporter.”
“Perry, he’s clearly using the situation to cover up whatever he was doing in that facility.” Lois threw out one hand in exasperation, as if to illustrate her point. “I don’t even believe Superman really hurt him. That’s gotta be a trick. He leaked the story himself to make Superman feel bad, and then when Superman, being the good guy he is, takes the bait and apologizes, Luthor capitalizes on the situation and comes out to make himself look good.”
“Were the stitches real?” Perry countered.
Lois sighed and crossed her arms. “They looked fake to me. Any make-up artist from a B movie these days could pull something like that together.”
“Proof! Proof! I need more proof than that, Lois. You know that.” Perry sat back in his chair and pulled out his afternoon cigar. With the regulations these days, he’d have to go out in the stairwell to smoke it, and he was getting antsy with Lane grilling him like this. “Get out there. Hit the mattresses. Go to the damn hospital if you need to and put the fire under some nurses. But if you’re gonna prove Luthor’s faking-- which I’m with you on--” he pointed out, raising a hand, “then I need you to do the work.”
“Fine! That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
“I still need this press conference covered tout suite,” Perry tapped his cigar on the edge of his desk.
Lois twisted her lips and caught sight of Clark about to knock on the doorframe. “Give it to Smallville. Lois Lane doesn’t cover fake news.”
She stormed passed Clark and slammed her small notepad into his hands.
“I... er... What am I covering now?”
Perry sighed and stood from his desk. “We need someone to write up the Luthor press conference. I know you weren’t there, but could you manage it?”
“Maybe?” Clark looked at Lois’ scribblings on the notepad. “Huh. I thought Lois wanted this one? “Superman is mine,” right?”
“She doesn’t believe Luthor means it. She thinks he set up the whole incident to make Supes look bad. It’s possible. I’ll give her a long leash and see what she comes up with.” Perry walked around his desk and plucked his lighter off of it. “I’m gonna head out for a sec. You good to start on that? Everyone’s going to have it in their papers by the evening edition. If it’s a blurb, we need it by then. If it’s more, we can put it on the front page tomorrow with one of the pictures Olsen took.”
“I think I can make something of it. Why does she think Luthor’s wounds are fake? I mean, he was terrified of Superman today. The stitches were real. He must have really hurt him,” Clark replied with a frown.
Perry straightened up. “Terrified? He was? Said who?”
“Er... um.” Clark slumped down a little further and licked over his lower lip. “I saw Supes a little earlier. About... something else. He mentioned it.”
“Huh. How’d he feel about that hug?”
Clark shrugged. “He didn’t know what to make of it. Why does Luthor do anything, though? I don’t think he gets a lot of hugs. Maybe he needed one after having a twenty pound piece of metal through ‘im.”
Perry chuckled. “I’d sure have liked to see that look on ol’ Luthor’s face when Superman popped up next to him on that podium. Terrified, huh?”
“There’s no need to be mean about it,” Clark objected.
“Give us a good story, Clark.” Perry gave Clark a pat on the back as he hurried out to smoke his cigar, laughing heartily at the notion of Luthor scared.
***
“I need your help.” Clark plopped down in his chair and scooted over to where Chloe was working on her laptop. “You aren’t still reading fanfiction, are you?”
“No, amazingly enough I’m writing up a story I’ve been investigating for three months. All play and no work makes Chloe an unemployed girl. Hang on a sec.”
“I have a moral dilemma.”
“... and you’re coming to me for that? I thought your diet of moral fiber was abundant without going to women notably lacking in boundaries for advice that you aren’t going to take anyway.”
“Shut up. I just need to say this out loud and hear someone else’s opinion.”
“Okay, okay. I’ve saved. Let’s go.” Chloe turned around and cocked a brow.
“Well, um.” Clark looked up pointedly.
“It’s cold,” Chloe protested. She sighed, put up her laptop, and got her coat. “To the roof.”
Once they’d taken the elevator up, Chloe wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at Clark. “Okay, tell me before I die of hypothermia.”
“It isn’t that cold,” Clark scoffed.
“Says he who came from an ice planet.” Chloe paced around to keep herself warm. “What is it, Clark? Is it about the conference this morning?”
“Good guess.”
“Well, we’re not up here because Clark Kent has questions to ask about how to get a stain out of a shirt.” Chloe turned back toward him and bit her lip, waiting for Clark to speak again.
“Perry wants me to cover the conference for Lois.”
“Yeah?”
“And I think he’s expecting a bit of Superman’s perspective on it.”
Chloe tilted her head. “Why would he expect that?”
“I might have said that Superman and I talked about it.” Clark winced at his own flub.
“Did you mean to say that you and Superman talked?”
“Not so much.” Clark groaned. “I used to be good at this dual identity thing, but Lois is going off on an investigation because she thinks Lex is faking his injuries-”
“I know Lex’s resilience is well-nigh unbelievable, but I really doubt that’s the case,” Chloe interrupted.
“No, I know they’re real. I saw them on stage, and when I went to visit him in the hospital.”
“Wait.” Chloe held up her hand like a stop sign. “You visited him in the hospital? You didn’t tell me about that.”
“I didn’t want you to make a big deal about it,” Clark grumbled.
“I think it’s a big deal. I’m surprised no one reported on Supes making a personal call to Lex Luthor.”
“I didn’t go as Superman.”
Chloe’s quirking lips stilled, and she regarded Clark seriously for a moment. “You went as Clark? He must have been surprised.”
“Incredulous. And stubborn about talking about his injuries. They’re real, Chloe.” Clark shook his head then looked up at the gray sky. “It’s a miracle he made it at all.”
“Hm. Maybe. And what does this have to do with you slipping on your dual identity?”
“I let it slip that Lex was scared when Superman showed up to accept his er... acceptance. And he wanted to know how I knew that...” Clark let his eyes follow a group of birds flying high across the Metropolis sky. Too high for them to be seen below the thick cloud cover that seemed to prognosticate heavy rain later. “I haven’t made dumb mistakes like that since I started doing this.”
“You’re a little distracted,” Chloe surmised, sounding a bit distracted herself.
“You could say that. Yeah.” Clark looked down at Chloe and stretched his back. Slumping all the time at work was effective but irritating, and it actually made him a little mopey, he’d found.
“What was your moral conundrum then?”
“Perry wants me to write about what happened up there. I feel like I’d be betraying Lex if I described in more detail how he reacted when Superman appeared. I mean, he did accept the apology after all.
That’s a pretty huge deal for Lex Luthor.” Clark shoved his hands in his pockets, his forehead crinkling. “He hates Superman.”
Chloe rubbed her fingers over her lips, staring with pensive intensity at a puddle on the far side of the roof. “Hate’s a strong word, Clark,” she almost whispered.
“You don’t think he hates me?”
“I think he likes you, Clark. He always has. Back in Smallville... I think he loved you a little.”
Clark made a scoffing noise, but Chloe continued.
“Superman’s a different story. I’m sorry, Clark, but if you spill that he was vulnerable up there, his anger will go right back to Superman, and not to you. I think it’s convenient for you that you can let him be angry at another person while still benefiting from Lex’s goodwill, but-- and consider that I’ve long conceded the moral high ground to you simply from a lack of traditional values of any kind-- but it will be a betrayal.”
“Ouch.”
“What ouch? I just said I’m the amoral soulless one here. But you know better than that. Why is it ouch if I’m telling you what you’re telling yourself?” Chloe protested. “Isn’t that why you pulled me up here? To hear out loud what you’re thinking?”
Clark shook his head. “I just wasn’t expecting your judgment on how Lex and I interact. I can’t help it if he still has fond memories of Clark Kent.”
“Do you think it’s cool of you to use Superman as a buffer and enjoy Lex’s sympathy as Clark? Oh, more righteous than thou boyscout?”
“No, I don’t. And I don’t spend any more time than I have to with him as Clark. I’m not doing that,” Clark argued, feeling himself grow warm, which he rarely did for any other reason than embarrassment. Or being in a volcano.
“You were with him in the hospital,” Chloe pointed out bluntly. “That was time you had to?”
Clark opened his mouth to argue again, then turned away.
“I have work to do.” Chloe sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Clark. I really am. I didn’t mean to be so harsh on you, and I shouldn’t unload on you. I just know that Lex takes friendship a lot more seriously than you do- I mean, he takes small things that we would overlook because you and I have had the luxury of a lot of friends throughout our lives, and they mean so much more to him.” She shrugged and headed back toward the stairwell. “Don’t throw this beginning away for a story that took no effort to get and means very little to anyone.”
As Chloe reached the door, Clark spoke, “You never got over him leaving, did you?”
“I did.” Chloe touched the handle, then felt over the cold metal with a frown. “I understood. Eventually.”
With that, Chloe disappeared down the stairs, her broad heels clicking on every step down. Clark walked over to the edge of the building, wondering why Chloe got so defensive of their old friend, and why she seemed to have forgiven him for his disappearing act.
Clark had been a little jealous when he’d seen Chloe’s affections for him dim due to the repeated disappointments and his then obsession with Lana Lang, but Chloe’d never admit that she’d been nursing a crush on Lex during most of her sophomore year. At one point it seemed like she was spending more time at the castle than at The Torch. Then suddenly, Lex was gone back to Metropolis. The next Clark had heard of him, Lex was participating in a huge trial against his father and the head of the mob.
It was hard for Clark to imagine a place for Lex in his life, even if people on the internet seemed to think they were perfect for each other. They just didn’t know Lex the way he did, he supposed. They couldn’t, if they really thought Lex Luthor would be satisfied forever with not knowing Clark’s secrets, or if they thought the two of them could ever be ideologically compatible. From everything Clark knew from intel via the JLA, Lex had gone darker and darker over the years.
With a sigh, Clark lifted his head and raised his face to the sky, feeling the first drops of rain to make it this close to Earth.
***
“Sir, you have a visitor,” Domovoi, Lex’s head butler, informed him.
In his study, he sat, reclining stiffly as he and Mercy discussed how to recover the research that had been lost in the most recent explosion. He’d glibly suggested that they lay a trap for their sneaky corporate terrorists, something nasty and biological, that would cause the culprits to swell up into giant blueberries.
That had actually caused Mercy to crack a smile.
“You are a card, boss,” she stated. With a swivel of her head, she looked to Domovoi and tightened her lips. “What kind of visitor?”
“A reporter, madam,” Domovoi answered. The twitch of his facial muscles told Lex more than the man’s words did.
“Yes? Bespectacled, huge, and awkward? Or raven-haired, strident, and perpetually windmill-tilting?” Lex angled his chair around to face the man.
“I fail to see how all those adjectives are not applicable at once, in this case.”
Lex grinned. “Oh, come on. Clark isn’t strident. He’s shy.”
“He’s perfectly outspoken in his articles,” Mercy put in with an unamused twist of her lips.
“Indeed.” Lex put both of his hands to the side of his chair and took a breath before trying to get up.
“Sir.” Mercy was at his side in a moment, despite Lex’s shaking head. She clasped his wrists and brought him to his feet.
“Thank you. All right. Let me see this strident by the written word reporter.”
“Are you sure you want to see him? I don’t want to encourage reporters coming to your home,” Mercy warned.
“I’m not sure he’s here about a story. If he is, I’ll send him away,” Lex decided. He walked slowly out of the office, with Mercy right at his heels.
When they reached the foyer, Mercy approached Clark, undeterred by his stammering at her, and began to pat him down. It was almost endearing, the way that Clark looked to Lex for help with a woman touching him.
She was done soon enough and gave Clark a sharp look before nodding to Lex and swiftly exiting. “Let me know if you need anything, boss.”
Lex shot a wry look after her. Under that facade of subservience, a thin facade, Mercy had become more his partner than his employee. She’d likely be listening in on their conversation through the security surveillance, and coming in later if Lex were stressed beyond a level of her approval.
“That was interesting,” Clark said. He probably only spoke to break the ice.
“Probably the most a woman’s touched you this year, hm, Clark?” Lex teased. He bit back a laugh at Clark’s resulting expression. “I’m kidding you. What can I do for you?”
“Um, I came here to talk to you. I’m working on a story-”
Lex lifted his chin and straightened his back. “I’m not in the mood for an interview right now. You’ll have to find some other way to pass your afternoon.”
“Don’t throw me out, Lex. I didn’t come for an interview. I came...” Clark sighed. “Lois doesn’t want to cover the press conference this morning, so she handed it to me. Chloe won’t take it because... I don’t know why-”
“Lois doesn’t want the story? That’s delightful.” Lex couldn’t help himself this time. He laughed. Pressing his hand to his stitches, he laughed, and he laughed hard.
“Simmer down, Lex,” Clark said with exasperation.
“Oh, that’s the best. I ruined her Superman story by being nice to the guy for once. I love it. Lois Lane gives up a front page article. It’s like I pissed in her Cheerios.”
“Why do you have such a problem with her?”
“She’s annoying to me. At least when you slam me, you have a sense of poetry about it.” Lex drew in a deep breath, trying to stop shaking. “God, I needed that laugh. Come on in. I need to sit down.”
“It’s good to see you walking around,” Clark commented, following him down the long hallway.
“It’s good to be vertical again.” Lex took Clark to one of his sitting rooms and gestured for the big man to sit on the sofa (as he imagined Clark would have enough room to spread his bulk out, if he chose). Lex took the armchair, since it would be easier for him to get out of. “What’s so troubling about this story that Chloe doesn’t even want it? She can’t stand to write a good word of me either?”
“Not exactly. It’s more that Lois thinks you’re faking-”
“I’m sorry, what? I showed them my stitches.”
“Don’t ask. And Chloe knows that Perry wants more than what everyone else is going to be reporting on the front page tomorrow but won’t stretch the truth from sources she’s only heard second-hand.”
Narrowing his eyes, Lex rubbed his index finger over his lip. “Meaning?”
“He wants to write a story that insinuates that you’re scared of Superman.”
Lex’s expression of curious interest soured quickly into disapproval and his temper shortened considerably. “What would give him the impression that would be remotely true?”
“Well, I don’t know, he um, I guess-”
“Cut the stammering, Clark. What did he tell you?” Lex barked.
“Perry? He said-”
“Not White. Superman. He talked to you, did he?”
“It’s not his fault. We were just... I was the one who slipped and said it to Perry.”
Lex licked his lips slowly. “Thanks a lot, Clark.”
“Sorry.” Clark turned his head and sighed.
“And for the record, I wasn’t scared. He appears in front of you much in the way Batman disappears. While the latter may be aggravating, or a relief I’d guess, the former tends to make the heart race as much as it would if anyone snuck up on you. If I were afraid of Superman, I wouldn’t profit much from our continued encounters, would I?”
“I guess not.” Clark nodded thoughtfully. “I’m glad you aren’t scared of him. He’s... like a bull in a China shop sometimes.”
“And I’m fine China?”
“I think to him, mostly, people are like fine China.”
“My heart rends for him. Truly.”
“So... Well, if you want, this is off the record, but why did you accept Superman’s apology?”
As Clark fiddled with his glasses, Lex crossed his ankle over his knee and considered the question. “For starters, he meant it. Additionally, unlike other attempts at PR, I don’t think that there was any way this could benefit him more than hurt him. Admitting his fallibility is a knock to the perfect image that the citizens of Metropolis have of him, an image I’ve long argued to be dangerous. He needs that image intact to continue working unhindered by human authorities, both elected and appointed. Nonetheless, he gambled that vision the people have of him to make this apology, to admit fault, and to essentially set a better example for his fellow vigilantes. It was a risk, but as far as gambits go, a smart one.”
“I think you give him more credit than he deserves in regards to PR. He’s not that cunning.”
“He’s not a fool. He’s dense, at times, obtuse, woefully short-sighted as I can be, I suppose, far-sighted, but no, I don’t think he was unaware of the possible outcomes, even if he likely didn’t spend more than a minute considering them.” Lex tapped his fingers on his ankle. “Under the right circumstances, if I wanted to-- and I trust that he distrusts me enough to have considered this-- the kernel of doubt in Superman’s perfection could be the first step in a much larger plan to ruin the public’s belief in him entirely, to the point that he would be hounded by humanity at every turn. Public enemy number one. People would run away from him as he tried to save them. People would buy bits of Kryptonite for personal security. The police would resist him at every turn, and lose lives for it. Lawsuits would follow him wherever he dared show his head, and the President himself would put out a warrant for his arrest. Superman, terrorist.”
Clark paled and inched away from Lex.
“I’m not admitting to you my master plan, Clark. I don’t plan to do that,” Lex assured him. “I’m just giving you some perspective on what Superman has at stake when he admits a fault like that. I’m not afraid of him any more than I’m particularly afraid of being stepped on by a careless elephant. But people might be, if it occurred to them that he could accidentally snuff their puny lives out without a thought about it. It’s lucky for him that I survived. Imagine the press if he’d accidentally killed me.”
“That’s not why it’s lucky you’re alive. If you’d died, Superman wouldn’t be thinking about his rep,” Clark protested.
“He’d be thinking about it once, when the authorities were forced to put out a warrant for manslaughter.”
Clark shook his head. “Your mind is horrifying.”
“I follow thoughts to their logical conclusion. But you’re missing my point if you’re busy being horrified. You asked why I accepted his apology. It’s because of this: Superman had to sacrifice a bit of his pride and the security he enjoys through his untarnished reputation to apologize to me. That makes it a rare gift indeed, and one I wouldn’t snub for the world.” Lex raised a brow and smirked slightly. “You can run for the door, now.”
Clark was silent for a moment more before he laughed softly. “No running. But I am impressed that you answered my question, for once. Usually you go on forever and never actually get to what I asked!”
“So you think. Maybe if you had some more patience, you’d realize I had answered your question.”
“Maybe. And you didn’t have any ulterior motives with the acceptance?”
“Would I be me if I didn’t? Though I rather doubt my motives are what you think.”
“It hurt his position in your little war to issue an apology.” Clark shrugged. “For you to accept it, and to say everyone makes mistakes... That hurts your position, too.”
Lex closed his eyes and nodded once. “It does. It’s a concession I’m willing to make.”
“For whom? Not you. Not him.”
“I’ll let you wonder on that one.” Lex had to admit that he enjoyed teasing Clark, even as he wished the man were as boyish and easy to smile as he had been as well... a boy.
“And the hug?” Clark prodded with an arched brow.
“The manly hug,” Lex corrected.
“‘Be gentle with me, Superman. I’m only human’? What was that about? It’s like...” Clark thought for a moment, looking over at a tall marble stature of a woman pouring water. “Hm. Like the entire meeting had an underlying message that we’re all flawed.”
“Maybe we are. Maybe there are no heroes, no villains, no gods among men, or devils of the same. Humans too often reduce complex situations, issues, and ideologies to binaries, because we want black and white. In reality, though, your black and white situations are rarer than you’d think.”
“I like black and white. It’s safer,” Clark admitted.
“I know your father raised you that way,” Lex conceded.
Clark sighed.
“Does that help you with your moral conundrum of the story? Are you going to tell the public that Lex Luthor is suffering from Post-Traumatic Superman Syndrome?” The slightest of smiles curved Lex’s lips.
Clark laughed again. “Hm. Depends on whether this conversation is on the record or not. I don’t know that I want to be the one to coin Post-Traumatic Supes Syndrome.”
“You can save it for Lois. She’ll love it.” Lex touched his index and middle finger to his temple as he leaned into his hand.
“One of these days, I think the two of you are going to end up in bed together. All that antagonism,” Clark remarked.
Lex scrunched his face up and shuddered. When Clark grinned wickedly, Lex felt a sense of relief. He knew that grin. That grin... When he told Lex that a criminal mastermind would wear a mask.
“You do still have a sense of humor, Clark. I’d though it had been surgically removed somewhere along the line,” Lex teased.
“I’m usually working when we see each other. It’s still there.”
“If this is on the record, aren’t you working now?”
“I thought you didn’t want to give an interview.”
Lex shrugged his head to the side. “Less of an interview. Consider it two old friends getting together for a talk. It’s not your fault of you have contacts that Lois just doesn’t have.”
“You’re awful. I think...” Clark whipped out his notepad and began scribbling. “What was it? ‘Maybe there are no heroes, no villains, no gods among men, or devils of the same...’”
“You have a good memory.”
“It helps in being a reporter. Or a lazy high school student,” Clark joked.
“You were never lazy,” Lex objected. “Busy, yes. I remember that. You worked on your father’s farm, and that’s not easy for a young man to do while in school. You also helped your mother with her charities.”
“Hmph. I remember Principal Reynolds thinking I was lazy, directionless, and hung out with a bad crowd.”
“Reynolds?” Lex frowned. “That wouldn’t happen to have been Terrance Reynolds, was it? He was the headmaster at my private school. Well, one of them.”
Clark looked up with surprise. “Um. Yes. And you drove me to school once, when I was late. A bad crowd? He wasn’t happy about me being friends with you.”
“Wasn’t he? Why would he be like that? I found him to be rather inspirational. He was tough, but fair, and I liked him for that.”
“Well, he had some kind of grudge against you, and he took it out on me,” Clark explained, seeming a little confused. “He made me write an essay on what I’d be doing in five years.”
“I’m sorry my friendship came with such a high cost.”
Clark’s eyes were wide now, staring at Lex from behind thick glasses. “Lex, do you really not remember?”
Feeling his cheeks grow warm, Lex thinned his lips and shifted in his seat. He wished he could get up and pace around. It helped if he could face away from someone when he needed to cover. “That was a long time ago.”
“I thought you’d remember that, though.” Clark set down his notepad and looked at Lex closely. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, Clark. I just get a bit tired. I’ll be back up to my old energy soon enough,” Lex breezed. He knew, though, that Clark’s concern for his current injuries was misplaced, if it involved Lex’s poor memory recall of that year.
“Maybe I’ve stayed long enough.” Clark got up and walked over to Lex’s side to pat his shoulder. When Lex moved to get up, Clark quickly took his hand. “Thanks for the chat, Lex. And the direction. Perry won’t get what he wants, but with you and Superman both giving something to this article, he won’t have much room to complain.”
“Precisely.” Lex smiled up at Clark and let the big man help him up. He patted Clark’s arm lightly.
“I don’t know if the war between you and Superman is over, but I’m glad that it’s cooling down, at least.”
Lex tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I’m sure you’re not the only one who will be.”
***
Seven Hours Later
Apology Accepted
Did you see that HUG?? It was sooooooo sweet. Gosh, it’s more than I EVAR hoped for! *bounces around like an idiot*
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It looked a little stiff to me.
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Come on, Dana. Lex has tons of stitches in him. Do you think Supes would pick him up and swing him around? He’s CAREFUL with him. That’s the sweetest part, to me.
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I’m dying over here. He said that line from “For Poorer or Richer.” FOR POORER OR RICHER!!! Did he READ that? Did someone in his employ read that and tell him about it? I think I’m going to die, for real! My heart is going too fast!
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Maybe someone sent him a get well letter, and mentioned the line?
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Maybe. Do you think he liked the bear? I’m afraid it was too silly for him.
Lex grinned widely and began to type, I have it on good authority, girls, that he’s quite fond of that bear, and despite his bodyguard’s disapproving glares and desire to test it for explosives, he’s keeping it in his room.
The boards went on and on with delighted and disbelieving remarks, but the SoL board was overwhelmingly excited.
EEEEE!!!! It’s SEXMAS!!
Lex chuckled and decided that he’d arrange a ‘candid’ shot of himself with the bear.