Strange Love, Part 3 + Goodies
Title: Strange Love or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying (and Accept My Destiny)
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: R, for language
Genre: Humor, het, slash
Spoilers: Takes place after Season 4 finale, "Commencement."
Feedback: Suggestions and criticisms would be lovely.
Disclaimer: Main characters and situations belong to Al Gough, Miles Millar, and DC Comics. Various cameo characters come from Marvel and DC Comics.
Notes: Despite title, fic has absolutely nothing to do with the Kubrick movie.
Summary: Watch out, Lex! Clark's got a Very Cunning Plan. And do does Lana.
Loved the picture so much I decided to use it unaltered with just a bit of text added in.
Next up, parts 1 and 2
I got into Smallville at the end of the third season and at the beginning of the fourth. My friends kept telling me it was a crappy show (and it was, for the most part) but I think that was part of the reason that I was so fascinated by it. It was more fun to imagine scenarios to fill in the numerous plot holes left by the Smallville writers than it was for a show that was actually, you know, good. The unfortunate thing was, Season 4 had left so many fans disenchanted that there was little new fic being produced. And, of the ones that were, most tended to be AUs or set in earlier seasons while ignoring newer canon.
I first tried to write a dramatic fic that would fanwank some things that happened in Season 4. But I soon gave up on that (with apologies to my beta reader talitha78) and spent some time hanging out at TWoP (Television Without Pity). The posts there gave me a few ideas that I would later use in Strange Love.
1. Clark is in love with Lana. Lex is in love with Lana. Lana is in love with Clark. At the end of Season 4, there seemed to be a love triangle between the three main characters. I hate love triangles, especially ones that are one-sided . So the obvious answer was to mock it by shifting the focus of the triangle from Lana to Lex and, in doing so, I arrived at the premise of my fic.
2. No one cares about Chloe. While this is not entirely true, Lana is the girl of everyone’s dreams in the Smallville universe, with Chloe often playing second fiddle. But, since it’s a parody, I decided to move Chloe to Metropolis and have her meet every damn character from the comic book universe (both DC and Marvel). And each one of them would pay attention to her, starting with Wally West (chosen on the basis that he’s the non-SV character I’ve seen her paired up with the most).
3. Smallville is a bad teen drama, like Dawson’s Creek. And so it is. Which is part of the reason I didn’t start watching it sooner. I tend to dislike teen dramas and most things soap opera-ish. Except for here, where I get to lampoon the conventions of bad romance writing. You can find most of them in the Lexana scenes.
4. Lois shouldn’t be on the show yet. Therefore I took her off and only had her participate via postcards. That, or I felt that I couldn’t write her voice accurately because she hadn’t been on the show long enough for me to get a good hold on her. Whichever.
5. Zod may appear in the Season 5 premiere. Despite some rumors, he, alas, probably will not appear at all. But he’s here, in miniaturized form because I thought it’d be amusing to have an arrogant alien overlord that no one took seriously. Also, Lana annoyed me in the episode “Ageless” by blathering on about the joys of parenthood so I decided to make her suffer for it. Jason’s in kiddy form as well because I couldn’t bring myself to kill him.
6. Lana Lang is a horrible character. So how do I write her in a way that's palatable to readers? By making her such a selfish conniving little bitch that you can’t help but like her. At least, I do. I really, really like my Lana.
7. Al Gough and Miles Millar deviate too far from canon. And I’ll deviate even more, to the point of absurdity. But, like the very best comedies of manners, everything will work itself out and everyone will arrive at their iconic character selves. At least, I hope so.
With any luck, this little intro will help you get a better idea of what I’m trying to do and make me seem much, much smarter than I actually am. As for how well I succeed, I'll leave it up to the readers to decide.
Besides being the only picture of the trio I could find that had Lex in the middle, I liked the worried expressions on Clark and Lana's faces. For the most part, I like the way it turned out, though I'm sure that it could have been better if I had Photoshop to work with.
Last of all, the main event - Part 3 of Strange Love.
The existence of the mating ritual is, in and of itself, a universal invariant, despite modifications made to it on the basis of species and environment. The male silverback gorilla cups his hands and beats them against his chest to scare off rivals and attract females. The weaverbird builds an elaborate nest and adorns it with brightly colored miscellany so that he may better advertise his capability as provider and future father. The smaller male shark bites the tough hide of the larger female before fertilizing her eggs. And so on. As a rule, if it is alive and moving, it will mate and, as such, will develop mating behaviors to facilitate mating. The only ones exempt are single-celled organisms and lower lifeforms, who reproduce asexually and seem unaware that they are missing out on anything special. Which explains much about jellyfish.
However, when we take a closer look at the myriad courtships of living creatures, we begin to notice one other factor that may account for alterations in a set ritual within species. This is the presence of personality. For example, Weaverbird A may decorate his nest with royal blue while his brother, Weaverbird B, prefers a tasteful shade of ecru.
Take one: adolescent alien. Kryptonian by race, Kal-El by name, last remaining survivor of a home planet which went the way of Alderaan. Astonishingly human in appearance, courtesy of Evolution’s little-glimpsed, yet finely honed, sense of irony. Had there been more of his kind left, Clark Kent, nee Kal-El, could have had the pleasure of engaging in a centuries old ceremony of commitment to his chosen theznkei that involved a rikweba’s yellow nemtorid and a fubywerq, or a benign symbiotic lifeform that bore a great resemblance to a hydrangea.
As it was, Clark was under no obligation to follow these sacrosanct ceremonies, as the last living memory of his biological father, currently residing into a cave wall, was telling him in saddened tones (saddened, of course, being relative to a program created by alien technology to preserve the personality of its creator). Of course, any attempts to honor his Kryptonian heritage would be much appreciated, Jor-El made sure to imply, in a voice that didn’t so much persuade as command.
“I thought you wanted me to either take over the world or save it, not get a boyfriend.” Clark pointed out with characteristic bluntness.
“Knowing the extent of your faculties of thought and reason, last remaining progeny of the esteemed House of El, I surmise that you’ll need all the help you can get.” Jor-El was proof that Clark’s tact wasn’t inherited from his biological mother. “What will it take for your human male to acquiesce to entering into a mutual partnership of companionable benefit with you?”
Clark shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to work out.”
“Perhaps a forceful mating in which you asserted your right to dominance and displayed in full glory your prowess in matters of a sexual nature. Why, it seemed just yesterday when Lara…”
Clark stared at the glowing cave wall, then slowly moved a step back. “Lex isn’t that type of guy,” he added quickly, because no one should ever hear their parents talk about sex. Ever.
Jor-El let out what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “Youth,” he said disparagingly, “could stand to learn from the font of experience.”
“Lex really seemed to like me a lot when we first met. I could have sworn…” Clark mused aloud. “If I could recreate those scenarios...” The more he thought, the more attractive the idea seemed. Lex had looked at him as if he were the most fascinating thing in existence during those early visits to the mansion. All he had to do was resurrect those memories and nostalgia would do the rest. Clark could feel a crazy grin spreading over his face. His mood was so good that he gave his father- err, rock wall- a friendly slap. A stalactite dislodged itself from the cavern roof, fell on his head, and bounced off. “Thanks a bunch, Dad!” Clark chirped and bounded out of the cave.
“In fact,” Jor-El informed the vacant space where his son had once been, “when I inserted my engorged goues in Lara’s widcery orifice, she insisted that it was the best ohanebs she had ever had.”
And so we see how this strapping young specimen of a Kryptonian, lacking the benefit of a precedent, takes the initiative of creating a mating ritual of his own. Indeed, we can conclude that necessity is the mother of invention and that desire for companionship constitutes an influential driving force behind many a sentient being.
Take another: teenaged female. Human by race, Lana Lang by name, last remaining survivor of a seemingly idyllic family life that was cut short by parents who went the way of Whack-A-Moles. A disaster surprisingly initiated by divine forces, courtesy of Chance’s oft-experienced and razor sharp sense of sadism. Had there been more female members of her family left, Lana Lang could have had the pleasure of engaging in a discussion about the generations-old surefire methods her mother or aunt knew of how to ensnare a rich man.
As it was, Lana did know a few tricks to attract masculine attention, but her experience was limited to dead zombies and football players. Lex, she expected, would need much more finesse. In such a situation she felt it more prudent to turn to the experts.
“’S works,” Lana insisted, speaking around the spoon in her mouth. “Thried and thrue, ‘s all that.”
“In a work of badly conceptualized fiction,” Zod corrected. “And therefore not necessarily an accurate representation of reality. At best, it’s a conjunction based more on supposition rather than fact.”
They both watched the beautiful raven-haired woman warble “I-vAN-Hoooe!” as two burly man tied her to a wooden stake. A glistening tear slid from the corner of one of her wide sapphire eyes as she wept and struggled against her bonds. Her tattered scarlet dress hung off of one shoulder, nearly exposing one milky-pale breast.
“’S classic,” Lana’s eyes were fixated on the television screen. She winced in sympathy when the pompous town official declared Rebecca to be guilty of the heresy of witchcraft and sentenced to be burnt to death. Ever since she had inherited the secondhand experiences of her deceased, but not dead, ancestor, she had become overly sensitive toward barbeques and the Salem witch trials.
“Zod finds it to be illogical that a male of your species, especially one so highly esteemed, should be so unreasonably attached to a female so useless.” The alien was saying as a burly handsome man on a horse barreled through the crowd of onlookers to reach the woman. He pulled a sword from his side and used it to expertly cut the rope holding Rebecca. The hero swung the lady up behind him with effortless grace and she clung to him tightly. “The female will prove more of a liability than a boon. Zod favors competency in all things.”
“Well, do you want him to end up with Lady Rowena instead?” Lana hotly demanded.
“She is better than Lady Rowena,” Zod conceded. Then added under his breath, “but not by much.”
“Damsels in distress are a tradition.” Lana pulled the spoon out with a pop and dropped it into the ice cream carton. “It’s… they make the guys feel stronger, I suppose. Like they’re needed. Guys are attracted to the idea of being in control.” She toed the pile of videos lying next to the sofa with one socked foot, shifting aside Sleeping Beauty until The Little Mermaid and Snow White were revealed. Besides such classics of Disney animation, the pile included the swashbuckling Errol Flynn films The Adventures of Robin Hood and Captain Blood, as well as that Legendary Tale of High Adventure and True Love, The Princess Bride. Legend was half-shoved under the sofa, probably on account of it being the sole product of the 80s which had the audacity to combine unicorns with power rock. A copy of Robin and Marian lay a slight distance away, having been included in the marathon for because it had among its virtues the presence of Audrey Hepburn in the cast and, even though it hadn’t been very good, Lana had yet to meet a Audrey Hepburn movie she could refuse.
“So this act of distress is part of a complex courtship dance in which the female manipulates the male into thinking that he has dominance over her. An act tailored specifically for the patriarchal society in which it is implemented, like a survival mechanism of sorts. It possesses a certain sort of cunning, Zod will concede, but nonetheless relies on impracticality in order to operate.”
“That’s exactly it!” Lana allowed herself a moment to indulge in imagination. Zod could talk all he wanted about impracticality and whatnot, but he didn’t know just how well the formula worked. He hadn’t been stalked his whole life by every horny mutant (and the occasional murderous one) within a hundred mile radius. She had perfected the art of crying prettily and wriggling just so to show off her legs to their best advantage. She could have the strongest men running to her rescue if she hurt so much as one little finger.
However, she was willing to admit that there may be more to the art than she previously suspected, hence the accumulation of videos for the purpose of study. Besides the classic tied-up and gagged damsel, there was also the defiantly sexy but overpowered spitfire, and the well-meaning but ultimately ineffectual female. Lana would probably need to figure out which approach Lex would appreciate the most. She allowed herself a moment of indulgence to imagine a possible scenario whilst Ivanhoe swashed many a buckle onscreen.
She was inside a deserted warehouse, stuck in between piles of boxes that were full of dubious, possibly narcotic, content. Her hands were bound behind her back, causing the fabric of her shirt to strain and pull tight against her breasts (which, in this daydream, had substantially grown in size - but not so much that she looked like a hussy). She could barely move her legs; her captor had bound them so tight. Clark (for it was he who had wronged her) now grinned down at her with a lecherous look. He was a huge brute of a man and his sharp fangs flashed when he smiled down at her.
“Still think Lex will want you, pretty, after I get done with you?”
She spat in his face. He snarled and wiped it off, then dealt her a vicious backhand. Her head whipped around, her dark hair fanning out in a wide arc, and she whimpered. Clark reached in and roughly tilted her chin up. He stroked her cheek.
“I like the ones with spirit. It’ll be fun breaking you.”
His hand reached down, inching toward her - okay, Lana was not going to go there, because that would be really, really nasty. But it was obvious what he wanted to do. Luckily, before anything could happen, a voice rang out like a beacon shining from the darkness.
“Get your hands off of her!”
Clark turned. In the open entrance of the warehouse, dramatically backlit by the blue sky, stood Lex. Though not so great in build as Clark, he cut a valiant, passionate figure- a modern day white knight in shining Armani. His hands were clenched at his sides and he was bristling in fury, dangerous and magnificent like a snow leopard in his righteous anger.
“Lex!” Lana wriggled, her hips swaying back and forth even though her legs were hindered by the ropes. Clark had tied them really tight, she could be in danger of fainting unless Lex got to her quickly. Oh, the world was starting to black out-
Lex ran towards a dumbfounded Clark, who didn’t try to move, on account of being a brain-dead lug. The better-dressed man swung his fist, Lana saw a flash of green, and then Clark was knocked flat out on the ground. Ignoring the predicament of his former friend, Lex stepped down hard on Clark’s chest in order to reach Lana. With his elegant hands, he quickly gathered Lana to his chest (which was nicely muscled, but not so much as to be off-putting) and held her fast, as though she were in danger of slipping through his fingers.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispered and, when she did so, her lower lip chose that exact moment to split from the blow Clark had dealt her. The rose red blood blossomed against her white skin. Lex tenderly wiped the crimson trail off her chin.
“How could I not?” he murmured, voice choked with emotion. “Darling…” he called her, and bent his head down, down, down so that his soft lips-
It was then that Lana noticed that Ivanhoe was kissing Lady Rowena onscreen.
“WHAT?!” she screeched.
Zod seemed startled. “Likewise, Zod did not anticipate this development.”
“Oh, I knew it was going to happen, I read the book. It’s just stupid that it did.”
“If you knew the ending, why express disappointment over an expected outcome?”
“Because I didn’t want it to end like that,” she explained, as though it were obvious. Ivanhoe was a gallant idiot. Anyone could see that Rebecca was worth ten of Lady Rowena, witch or not. She held out the ice cream carton toward Zod and offered, “Double mint chip?”
“Zod will decline.” Because Zod knew, unlike the inattentive Lana, that the carton had been empty and that Lana had been shoveling air into her mouth for quite a while. He watched a few more minutes of the movie without paying attention, engrossed in thinking about something else. Once the credits appeared, he said, “Humans are singularly illogical. Zod cannot figure them out.”
“I’m clear as a still pond,” Lana objected. “If you’re referring to Jason… yeah, I never got him either. A sweetheart one moment and pure evil the next.” She thought of this morning, when she had been asked by a harried Martha to watch him for “just a minute” (it had ended up being half-an-hour). The kid had obeyed Martha’s every directive without complaint and even listened to Zod’s complex schemes of world domination with nary a peep but once no one else was looking, he had also wiped his nose on Lana’s jacket sleeve and kicked her in the shin as ‘revenge’ for his dead mother.
“Now that’s done, it’s time to move onto the next one,” Lana declared. She dropped to her knees on the floor, still cradling the carton with one hand, and magically plucked a video from where there had been none before. “Ladyhawke,” she announced and scooted over to the VCR. She removed Ivanhoe, put the new movie in, and rocked back on her heels. Watching the digital display, she reinserted the spoon in her mouth and grimaced when she bit down on steel. From his perch on the sofa, Zod gave a long-suffering sigh and readied himself for yet more women in long flowing dresses and men in tights. On the whole, he preferred Jason’s afternoon cartoons.
With that relevant note, we shall end this demonstration of the biological imperative of mating in action. Having met these two vastly different creatures and been privy to their proposed methods of wooing, we must stop and wonder which shall prove more effective. Will the farmboy alien reign supreme or will the teenage witch’s wiles prevail? Only time will tell. Suffice to say that when these two cunning sexual predators are on the prowl, no bald billionaire shall ever be safe again.
***
“Mr. Luthor, your one o’clock is here.”
“Thank you, Talia.” Lex set aside the files he was perusing and folded his hands together.
He wondered, not for the first time, if there was a viable way to conduct LuthorCorp business from the mansion in Smallville instead of the towers in Metropolis. There was much of Lionel still in here, from the aesthetics of the walls to the rectangular lead paperweight etched with Et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis! in calligraphic text across one flat surface. For all his faults of character, it could never be said that Lionel Luthor did not possess a wicked sense of humor. “Send them in.”
A handsome blond man sauntered through the office doors and flashed a wide toothy smile at Lex. Behind him trailed his more serious looking dark-haired companion. The billionaire rose and was about to offer a hand in greeting when the blond was roughly pulled to the side.
“For heaven’s sake, Michael,” his brunet friend whispered furtively. “Just let me do all the talking.” He jerked on the blond’s elbow for emphasis.
“It’s Booster Gold, Ted.” The blond (Michael, obviously) snapped back in response. “How many times do I have to remind you?”
“There is no way I’m calling you that, it makes you sound like a rocket built in the fifties. In fact, I suggest you don’t refer to yourself like that if you don’t want people to laugh.”
“A good superhero name promotes self-confidence and optimism,” Michael’s response was cheerfully patronizing. “Not that you would know, having named yourself after a widely reviled insect. Though the alliteration bit was clever.”
Ted looked a bit taken aback, but seemed to recover nicely. “This is one of those future things, isn’t it? Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Gentlemen.” Lex interrupted. “If the pair of you are not ready for this conference, I suggest we postpone it until some later day.” He tried to look like he had better things to do than listen to two grown men bicker. It wasn’t hard.
Michael flashed him another of those thousand watt smiles. He had the broad-shoulders and trim waist of a professional athlete in his prime, as well as the cocky attitude and shiny hair to match. Lex would have guessed swimmer, but something about the distinctive gait (and the slight resemblance to an older Whitney Fordman) suggested that the sport of choice would involve pigskin. Funnily enough, Lex couldn’t remember him being a player in any of the major or minor leagues (though his knowledge was, admittedly, limited to whatever Clark had shown him).
The other man Lex knew. Theodore Kord, son of Thomas Kord, the founder of KORD, Incorporated. The elder Kord would never be as wealthy or successful as Lionel, not having the stomach for the more cutthroat business practices employed by those who regularly ran in the same circles as the Luthors. But that had never stopped Lex from holding a grudging admiration for the son. When he had happened to read about Kord’s college reputation as an electronics prodigy and his recent employment to KORD, Inc.’s Research and Development department, Lex had felt a sudden and strange sense of empathy. He had been reminded briefly on his own schooling, the wistful nebulous ideas he had once entertained of breaking into some scientific field or the other.
Indeed, it was only this admiration (lessening by the minute) that had led Lex to call this meeting in the first place. He tapped his fingers against his imported Scandinavian teak desk, idly wondering how long it would be before courtesy was exhausted and he could throw the two out of his office with a clear conscience.
“That’s not necessary,” Ted said, collecting himself. He brushed brown hair out of his eyes and tried on a smile. It made him look as though he had swallowed something particularly unpleasant. He said briskly. “Welcome back to Metropolis, Mr. Luthor.”
“It’s a pleasure to return, Mr. Kord.” Lex lied, shaking Ted’s hand. “Call me Lex.”
Ted introduced “Mr. Michael Carter” and Lex turned to shake the blond’s hand. Michael stared at the outstretched palm for a moment, then reached out and pumped Lex’s hand up and down vigorously, all the while whispering to himself, “So this is what taking place in an antiquated greeting ritual is like! Physical contact!” He then stared with great intensity at their clasped hands.
Ted cleared his throat, “Michael, you can release Mr. Luthor’s hand now.”
Lex raised an eyebrow and extracted his fingers from Michael’s grasp. “Mr. Kord, what exactly was it that you imagined I could help you with?”
“Actually,” Ted began, looking very embarrassed. “I requested an audience, Lex, because my associate-”
“-partner!” yelped Michael.
“-has a business proposal for you.” Ted finished.
“I’m looking for sponsors,” Michael announced. “for a entrepreneurial venture I have in mind. Teddy has already agreed to talk to his dad, but he told me that I needed more investors onboard if I want to start a business. And, hey, you’re the richest guy in Metropolis, even if Ted thinks you’re a corrupt fatcat and the son of corporate slime.”
“Mike,” said Ted through gritted teeth. “I’m not a stuffed bear.” Then, in a lower, panicked voice, “And ix-nay on the atcat-fay uff-stay already.”
“Teddy, Teddy.” Michael replied sweetly, “lay off my given name and I’ll reconsider leaving you some of your dignity intact.”
Ted looked like he wanted to forcibly introduce Michael’s face to the wood detail of Lex’s polished desk.
Lex leveled a sharklike grin at Michael. “I’m flattered. You’ll have to tell me more about this proposal of yours.” In keeping with the spirit of his new resolutions, Lex thought it would be deliciously satisfying to encourage the man before flatly declining all of his suggestions. And then making him pay dearly for the ‘fatcat’ comment. With a pound of flesh and his firstborn child.
Michael beamed while Ted groaned and put his head in his hands. “Trust me, Lex. You’ll like this,” the blond confided. “Looking at you, I’d say you’re a man with pretty refined tastes but a stressful lifestyle. So I’m thinking… how would you like to take time out and visit a resort on a tropical island? Not just any resort, nothing as boring as that old Hilton stooge has. We’re young guys, we’ve got our fingers on the pulse of what’s hip. No, it’ll be a resort with a superheroic theme. Imagine it. Chilling with Green Lantern cocktails while watching the sunset. Having your every wish attended to by curvy babes in Wonder Woman suits or cute boys in Aqualad shorts. It’ll be the hottest getaway spot ever, the buckaroos will roll right in.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ted interrupted. “Who’s Wonder Woman and Aqualad? Don’t you mean Warrior Angel?”
“Oh, they’re not here yet?” Michael sounded genuinely surprised. “Well then, give it a few years.”
Lex hadn’t heard any part of the conversation after the word island. There was a droning in his ears, growing higher and shriller by the moment. The office blurred and dissolved. He could feel the burning sun scorching the skin of his bare back, could see the white waves of the ocean stretched out around him in a watery prison. He could remember creeping around in the leafy underbrush during the day to escape the worst of the heat and huddling close to a pitiful pile of dying embers during the night. If he cared to look over his left shoulder, he would see the bright bloodshot eyes of a man he once killed.
“I’m not dead.”
“Pardon?” Ted asked.
Stumbling forward, Lex ordered, “Go away.”
The smile disappeared off Michael’s face.
Lex felt the brush of straggly hair on his shoulders and heard a familiar sneer. “We are very proud tonight.”
“It’s daytime.” Ted said softly.
Lex turned around.
“Didja miss me, rich boy?” Louis crooned. “I’ve been waiting on this here island a long, long time. Thought you were never coming back.”
“I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Lex responded with an air of studied coolness. “You could have chosen a more convenient time to drop in unannounced.”
“Now, that’s no way to speak to an old friend. If you don’t want me to swing on by, you gotta visit at least every once in a while, Prince Charming.” Louis picked up Lex’s letter opener from the desk and inspected the edge by running a dirt-encrusted finger over it.
“Why would I want to go and do something like that, when I’ve been dealing quite nicely in the absence of your odious personality?”
Louis shrugged and used the letter opener to pick open a scab on his elbow. “If you say so, it seems to me like you’re in the same place where I last left you. Your luck with personal relationships hasn’t improved at all. You got rid of the doctor, but now there’s another homicidal bitch panting after you.”
Louis scratched at his pockmarked face, leaving behind a faint red trail. He smirked at Lex. “And how’s Daddy Dearest doing? Bet it was satisfying to lock him up in his glass room. Didn’t you just want to spank him for being a bad boy and meddling in your affairs?”
“Oh, God, don’t talk about my father issues. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve exhausted the same discourse.” Lex rolled his eyes. “I’m getting sick of the topic.”
“I’d think we’ll just be going now, Mr. Luthor,” Michael called out as he inched ever so slowly toward the nearest available exit.
“Good going, Mike,” groused Ted. “You drove the guy insane.” He fumbled for the doorknob and cracked the door open a few crucial inches.
“He’s rich,” whined Michael in his own defense. “The rich all have problems.”
Lex caught their movement out of the corner of his eye and. His. Patience. Just. Snapped. “DON’T MOVE!” He raised a quivering finger in Michael and Ted’s direction. “I’M NOT FINISHED WITH THE TWO OF YOU!”
Michael whimpered.
“Mr. Luthor?” came the soft womanish query from the blessed region beyond the door. To Ted, it sounded like the voice of angels. He kept a wary eye on Lex, feeling an abrupt affinity for Australian men who wrestled crocodiles for a living. Ted considered calling for help, but realized how badly it would look for him to need rescuing from a businessman brandishing a letter opener.
Michael, fortunately, had neither qualms nor dignity to lose by begging. “Please, secretary person, come help us. Your boss is crazy.”
Louis moved toward Lex, unfazed by the withering glare he received from the latter. “Hey, Baldy, you think I have hair to compensate for the fact you look like a cue ball?” He reached out to brush his hand over Lex’s bare head.
Lex moved his head out of range of any searching fingers. “Don’t.”
Talia poked her head over the door, pretty eyes widening. “Oh. My. Mr. Luthor’s having another one of his episodes.”
“What do you mean ‘episodes’? This is normal?”
“Happens every once in a while.” She disappeared out of sight. Ted had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Lex Luthor going crazy wasn’t enough for his secretary to brave a rescue attempt of his hapless guests because, apparently, this sort of thing happened around the office on a regular basis.
Louis jumped forward and grabbed Lex, stabbing Lex with the letter opener.
Lex responded by biting Louis.
Talia reappeared, pushing the door open so she could fully enter. She was clutching a bottle of pills in one perfectly manicured hand.
“Oh, Mr. Luthor!” she trilled. “It’s time for your medication!”
Lex’s head swiveled to look at his employee. He snapped his teeth at her, dropped to his knees and crawled under his desk.
Talia beamed cheerfully at Ted and Michael. “Perhaps you’d better step back, boys.” Reaching down, she removed both of her shoes. She picked one of them up, hefting it in the palm that wasn’t carrying the medicine. She eyed the pointed heel with careful consideration, as if estimating the damage it could do to vulnerable human flesh.
“Boss,” she sing-songed, advancing with the footwear brandished in front of her. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”
There was the rustle of movement from the desk. Talia’s eyes narrowed and she darted forward a step, stopping when an empty chair innocuously rolled out from behind the desk. False alarm.
Talia muttered under her breath, reminding herself to remember everything her father had taught her. Butterfly knives are rarely suitable as razors. Poison hemlock was most recognizable by the purple spots on its stem. Never underestimate prey if you want to make an easy kill. The last one was particularly important. As quarry went, this one was smarter and harder to catch than most. Richard Connell was right; the Cape buffalo was not the most dangerous big game.
A dark streak and there he was - making a break for the door!
Talia dove and crashed right into Lex. The two of them collided and tumbled onto the floor, Talia using her elbows to try and pin Lex into the ground. Lex twisted, attempting to get away, and Talia put a quick end to that by driving her heel into Lex’s side with enough force that it punctured through his suit. Lex let out a piercing whine and clamped his teeth down hard on Talia’s offending right hand. She grunted and turned her body, bringing her left hand up so that she could open the pill bottle. It was an effort made much more needlessly difficult by Lex shaking his head in a great impression of a rat terrier.
“Looks like you’ve got everything under control, ma’am.” Ted called out. “My friend and I will just be going now-” As he hurriedly ushered Michael out the exit, a designer high heel whizzed through the air and embedded itself in the wooden doorframe. Their voices carried back into the room. (“Ted, how was I to know Mr. Luthor would be so opposed toward my perfectly reasonable sales pitch?” “Serves me right. The next time traveler Max tries to foist on me, I am leaving on the nearest street corner.”)
Talia scratched her nails at the side of Lex’s mouth, trying to pry his jaw open. He kicked out, one leg catching her in the stomach and expelling the breath from her lungs, so she gave up that tactic and tried another one by pinching his nose shut. He tried to slap her hand off and she twisted hard. He howled in pain and she took the opportunity to extract her hand and shove the pills in.
He backed away, nursing his hurt nose and the letter opener still hanging from one arm. He looked dazed and Talia took advantage of that by darting forward and sticking one hand under his chin. She pushed his head up and massaged his throat until she was sure she felt him swallow the pills. He did so, but choked and sputtered, giving Talia enough time to pick up the heavy paperweight off his desk and to use it to deliver a hard blow to his head. Lex slumped down to the floor, unconscious.
Talia frowned and arranged her employer’s body into a more comfortable position. She readjusted her clothes and hair, found her shoes and put the pair of them on, then walked unsteadily out the door.
Talia went to her desk and flipped through the leather-bound planner where she kept track of all of Lex’s appointments. She located a number, picked up the company phone, and dialed.
“Hello? This is Talia Head, am I speaking to Mr. Kord?… Hello again, Mr. Kord. As you may recall, I’m Mr. Luthor’s assistant…Thank you, I have been working out. But that’s beside the point. We have some unfinished business. Did you expect this to be a courtesy call?... Yes, I am aware that this is your personal cell... What do I want? Only to helpfully suggest that neither you nor your associate let it be known to any other party what exactly occurred during your meeting with Mr. Luthor. Otherwise, I can personally guarantee that life will become much more interesting for the pair of you… K.O.R.D, Inc has never had much trouble obtaining government grants for research purposes, has it? As for the charming Mr. Carter, an illegal immigrant is still an illegal immigrant, whether or not he travels over time instead of distance. And so on. I believe you get my drift… Absolutely. We at LuthorCorp are thorough, aren’t we?...Yes, that will be all. Thank you for your time. Have a pleasant remainder of the day, Mr. Kord.”
She hung up and jotted a note in the planner with a sparkly purple pen. When she was finished, she pressed a button on the same machine that contained the phone. When the intercom crackled to life, Talia requested a first aid kit be brought up to Lex’s office. Not five minutes later, it was promptly handed to her by one of the new interns, a pimply kid whose name she had yet to learn.
After she had wiped the blood off her hand, swabbed disinfectant on it, and wrapped it in gauze, Talia trotted back into her boss’ office with the first aid kit. She pulled the letter opener out of Lex’s arm and slapped a band-aid on the entry wound. For good measure, she also stuck a few more band-aid over the various scratches on his face.
Then she sat back and waited. About half an hour later, Lex stirred. He opened his eyes and looked up to see his assistant peering warily down at him.
“Shit,” he said. “It happened again, didn’t it?”
Talia nodded.
Lex sighed. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
***
There was a brown llama. It was absolutely terrifying. Its eyes were rolled up in contemptuous distaste and its teeth were bared in preparation of flying spittle. And it was not alone, being flanked on all sides by its like-minded ungulate brethren. All looked ready to inflict copious violence on any living creature foolish enough to tread too closely.
Clark turned the postcard over.
Clarkie, followed by the sloppy drawing of a four-legged animal, presumably a dog.
You are most definitely heterosexual. There is no stronger proof than that waltz of clumsy advance and strategic retreat you insist on dancing with Lana. Straight as an arrow, you are. Never mind the fact that, if you were really interested in Lana, you would have had her by now. Girls like that only play coy. And that’s all I have to say on that matter. It’s an issue for Laura Ingalls Wilder and yourself to work out. Soon.
Okay, since your sordid love life is out of the way, we can focus on something much more important - me. This will as a surprise to all, but I want to thank you. Don’t look so shocked, Farmboy. I do possess manners, despite the lovable bitch goddess exterior that says otherwise.
You know the red notebook you gave me as a gift - in a moment of mindnumbing stupidity - while saying that every girl should have a diary (an offensive sexist generalization I should have well and beaten you for)? And I laughed loudly in your face when you pulled it out but ended up bringing with me anyway? Well, pigs have flown, and Lois Lane has written.
Because there’s so much happening here and I’m trying to find words. But I can’t. One day, I’m going to drag you here so you can work your truth, justice, and apple pie magic on people that really need it. It’ll be my way of expressing gratitude.
Lois
Clark slid the postcard in between the pages of a thumbed copy of Kiss of the Spider Woman and set the book down on the desk.
***
Notes - for those of you too lazy to use Google:
Alderaan is, of course, Princess Leia’s home planet in Star Wars IV: A New Hope, blown up by the Death Star in order to demonstrate the full power of the battle station.
Michael Jon Carter is Booster Gold. He’s an ex-(American) football player from the 25th century who decided to make a quick buck by stealing and coming back to the 21st century to become a superhero. His superhero name derives from his football background (he “boosts” the ball) and he claims to have no alter ego. He’s fond of harebrained schemes and supplements his income by capitalizing on his image and doing product endorsements.
Theodore Kord is the second Blue Beetle, inheriting the mantle from his teacher, Dan Garrett. He’s a multimillionaire electronics genius and designs his own crime-fighting weapons like a ray gun and an airship. He tends to be the more serious of the two and constantly plays Felix to Booster’s Oscar. I’ve also seen his name written as Edward Kord, but no one seems too sure what it is - he usually goes by “Ted.”
Both Booster Gold and Blue Beetle are from DC Comics. They’re usually regarded as B-list heroes and troublemakers by the Justice League. Blue Beetle was recently killed to kick off the massive DC multi-title crossover in Countdown to Infinite Crisis. Check out Giffen, DeMatteis, and Maguire’s Formerly Known as the Justice League and this massive post of comic book scans for more about them.
The quote on Lionel’s paperweight in the incantation uttered by Doctor Faustus in order to summon the demon Mephistophilis . The full quote reads: Per Jehovam, Gehennam et consecratum aquam quam nunc spargo, signumque crucis quod nunc facio, et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis! and translates to “By Jehovah, Gehenna, and the holy water which now I sprinkle, and the sign of the cross which now I make, and by our prayer, may Mephistophilis now summoned by us arise!” Throughout the course of the play, the eponymous Faustus conspires to sell his soul to Mephistophilis in exchange for wealth and women.
Louis’ first words to Lex are taken from Oscar Wilde’s novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, as is his “Prince Charming” moniker. "We are very proud tonight," is the line a prostitute says to Dorian's character and the nickname is one his old love called him by. Yeah, I don't know where that came from.
Richard Connell was right; the Cape buffalo was not the most dangerous big game is a reference to the famous short story, where the most dangerous game to hunt was man.
Talia Head is the daughter of crimelord and ecoterrorist Ra’s Al Ghul. If Ra’s name sounds familiar at all, it may be because you saw him in Batman Begins (though Talia herself didn’t make an appearance). Talia is usually torn between her undeniable attraction to Batman and her loyalty to her father’s agenda. In a more recent incarnation, she became disillusioned with her father and left him to run LexCorp when Lex Luthor became President of the United States. She betrayed Lex by leaking information of his illegal activities to Superman and selling his corporate assets to the Wayne Foundation, leaving Lex destitute. Talia and Lex have teamed up again for the Society of Villains in the recent Villains United series, proving once and for all that comic book Lex is a dumbass.
Kiss of the Spider Woman is a novel by Manuel Puig and a 1985 film whose plotline revolves around two men in a Brazilian prison. One is a political prisoner and the other is in prison because he is a homosexual. The title may sound it comes from a bad horror movie or unwatchable Spider-Man sequel, but the film is well-respected and most famous for the sexual tension between its two male leads. The book is a clue to Lois’ whereabouts (she’s in Argentina, where the author was born) and what it is she’s doing (getting involved in the local politics and stirring up trouble).
Neat Smallville connection: In a 2002 TWoP interview, Omar G asked Al Gough exactly how homoerotic the relationship was between Lex Luthor and Clark Kent and got the response, “It’s not supposed to be homoerotic at all. I sometimes read your site and think we’re doing Kiss of the Spider Woman.”
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: R, for language
Genre: Humor, het, slash
Spoilers: Takes place after Season 4 finale, "Commencement."
Feedback: Suggestions and criticisms would be lovely.
Disclaimer: Main characters and situations belong to Al Gough, Miles Millar, and DC Comics. Various cameo characters come from Marvel and DC Comics.
Notes: Despite title, fic has absolutely nothing to do with the Kubrick movie.
Summary: Watch out, Lex! Clark's got a Very Cunning Plan. And do does Lana.
Loved the picture so much I decided to use it unaltered with just a bit of text added in.
Next up, parts 1 and 2
I got into Smallville at the end of the third season and at the beginning of the fourth. My friends kept telling me it was a crappy show (and it was, for the most part) but I think that was part of the reason that I was so fascinated by it. It was more fun to imagine scenarios to fill in the numerous plot holes left by the Smallville writers than it was for a show that was actually, you know, good. The unfortunate thing was, Season 4 had left so many fans disenchanted that there was little new fic being produced. And, of the ones that were, most tended to be AUs or set in earlier seasons while ignoring newer canon.
I first tried to write a dramatic fic that would fanwank some things that happened in Season 4. But I soon gave up on that (with apologies to my beta reader talitha78) and spent some time hanging out at TWoP (Television Without Pity). The posts there gave me a few ideas that I would later use in Strange Love.
1. Clark is in love with Lana. Lex is in love with Lana. Lana is in love with Clark. At the end of Season 4, there seemed to be a love triangle between the three main characters. I hate love triangles, especially ones that are one-sided . So the obvious answer was to mock it by shifting the focus of the triangle from Lana to Lex and, in doing so, I arrived at the premise of my fic.
2. No one cares about Chloe. While this is not entirely true, Lana is the girl of everyone’s dreams in the Smallville universe, with Chloe often playing second fiddle. But, since it’s a parody, I decided to move Chloe to Metropolis and have her meet every damn character from the comic book universe (both DC and Marvel). And each one of them would pay attention to her, starting with Wally West (chosen on the basis that he’s the non-SV character I’ve seen her paired up with the most).
3. Smallville is a bad teen drama, like Dawson’s Creek. And so it is. Which is part of the reason I didn’t start watching it sooner. I tend to dislike teen dramas and most things soap opera-ish. Except for here, where I get to lampoon the conventions of bad romance writing. You can find most of them in the Lexana scenes.
4. Lois shouldn’t be on the show yet. Therefore I took her off and only had her participate via postcards. That, or I felt that I couldn’t write her voice accurately because she hadn’t been on the show long enough for me to get a good hold on her. Whichever.
5. Zod may appear in the Season 5 premiere. Despite some rumors, he, alas, probably will not appear at all. But he’s here, in miniaturized form because I thought it’d be amusing to have an arrogant alien overlord that no one took seriously. Also, Lana annoyed me in the episode “Ageless” by blathering on about the joys of parenthood so I decided to make her suffer for it. Jason’s in kiddy form as well because I couldn’t bring myself to kill him.
6. Lana Lang is a horrible character. So how do I write her in a way that's palatable to readers? By making her such a selfish conniving little bitch that you can’t help but like her. At least, I do. I really, really like my Lana.
7. Al Gough and Miles Millar deviate too far from canon. And I’ll deviate even more, to the point of absurdity. But, like the very best comedies of manners, everything will work itself out and everyone will arrive at their iconic character selves. At least, I hope so.
With any luck, this little intro will help you get a better idea of what I’m trying to do and make me seem much, much smarter than I actually am. As for how well I succeed, I'll leave it up to the readers to decide.
Besides being the only picture of the trio I could find that had Lex in the middle, I liked the worried expressions on Clark and Lana's faces. For the most part, I like the way it turned out, though I'm sure that it could have been better if I had Photoshop to work with.
Last of all, the main event - Part 3 of Strange Love.
The existence of the mating ritual is, in and of itself, a universal invariant, despite modifications made to it on the basis of species and environment. The male silverback gorilla cups his hands and beats them against his chest to scare off rivals and attract females. The weaverbird builds an elaborate nest and adorns it with brightly colored miscellany so that he may better advertise his capability as provider and future father. The smaller male shark bites the tough hide of the larger female before fertilizing her eggs. And so on. As a rule, if it is alive and moving, it will mate and, as such, will develop mating behaviors to facilitate mating. The only ones exempt are single-celled organisms and lower lifeforms, who reproduce asexually and seem unaware that they are missing out on anything special. Which explains much about jellyfish.
However, when we take a closer look at the myriad courtships of living creatures, we begin to notice one other factor that may account for alterations in a set ritual within species. This is the presence of personality. For example, Weaverbird A may decorate his nest with royal blue while his brother, Weaverbird B, prefers a tasteful shade of ecru.
Take one: adolescent alien. Kryptonian by race, Kal-El by name, last remaining survivor of a home planet which went the way of Alderaan. Astonishingly human in appearance, courtesy of Evolution’s little-glimpsed, yet finely honed, sense of irony. Had there been more of his kind left, Clark Kent, nee Kal-El, could have had the pleasure of engaging in a centuries old ceremony of commitment to his chosen theznkei that involved a rikweba’s yellow nemtorid and a fubywerq, or a benign symbiotic lifeform that bore a great resemblance to a hydrangea.
As it was, Clark was under no obligation to follow these sacrosanct ceremonies, as the last living memory of his biological father, currently residing into a cave wall, was telling him in saddened tones (saddened, of course, being relative to a program created by alien technology to preserve the personality of its creator). Of course, any attempts to honor his Kryptonian heritage would be much appreciated, Jor-El made sure to imply, in a voice that didn’t so much persuade as command.
“I thought you wanted me to either take over the world or save it, not get a boyfriend.” Clark pointed out with characteristic bluntness.
“Knowing the extent of your faculties of thought and reason, last remaining progeny of the esteemed House of El, I surmise that you’ll need all the help you can get.” Jor-El was proof that Clark’s tact wasn’t inherited from his biological mother. “What will it take for your human male to acquiesce to entering into a mutual partnership of companionable benefit with you?”
Clark shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to work out.”
“Perhaps a forceful mating in which you asserted your right to dominance and displayed in full glory your prowess in matters of a sexual nature. Why, it seemed just yesterday when Lara…”
Clark stared at the glowing cave wall, then slowly moved a step back. “Lex isn’t that type of guy,” he added quickly, because no one should ever hear their parents talk about sex. Ever.
Jor-El let out what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “Youth,” he said disparagingly, “could stand to learn from the font of experience.”
“Lex really seemed to like me a lot when we first met. I could have sworn…” Clark mused aloud. “If I could recreate those scenarios...” The more he thought, the more attractive the idea seemed. Lex had looked at him as if he were the most fascinating thing in existence during those early visits to the mansion. All he had to do was resurrect those memories and nostalgia would do the rest. Clark could feel a crazy grin spreading over his face. His mood was so good that he gave his father- err, rock wall- a friendly slap. A stalactite dislodged itself from the cavern roof, fell on his head, and bounced off. “Thanks a bunch, Dad!” Clark chirped and bounded out of the cave.
“In fact,” Jor-El informed the vacant space where his son had once been, “when I inserted my engorged goues in Lara’s widcery orifice, she insisted that it was the best ohanebs she had ever had.”
And so we see how this strapping young specimen of a Kryptonian, lacking the benefit of a precedent, takes the initiative of creating a mating ritual of his own. Indeed, we can conclude that necessity is the mother of invention and that desire for companionship constitutes an influential driving force behind many a sentient being.
Take another: teenaged female. Human by race, Lana Lang by name, last remaining survivor of a seemingly idyllic family life that was cut short by parents who went the way of Whack-A-Moles. A disaster surprisingly initiated by divine forces, courtesy of Chance’s oft-experienced and razor sharp sense of sadism. Had there been more female members of her family left, Lana Lang could have had the pleasure of engaging in a discussion about the generations-old surefire methods her mother or aunt knew of how to ensnare a rich man.
As it was, Lana did know a few tricks to attract masculine attention, but her experience was limited to dead zombies and football players. Lex, she expected, would need much more finesse. In such a situation she felt it more prudent to turn to the experts.
“’S works,” Lana insisted, speaking around the spoon in her mouth. “Thried and thrue, ‘s all that.”
“In a work of badly conceptualized fiction,” Zod corrected. “And therefore not necessarily an accurate representation of reality. At best, it’s a conjunction based more on supposition rather than fact.”
They both watched the beautiful raven-haired woman warble “I-vAN-Hoooe!” as two burly man tied her to a wooden stake. A glistening tear slid from the corner of one of her wide sapphire eyes as she wept and struggled against her bonds. Her tattered scarlet dress hung off of one shoulder, nearly exposing one milky-pale breast.
“’S classic,” Lana’s eyes were fixated on the television screen. She winced in sympathy when the pompous town official declared Rebecca to be guilty of the heresy of witchcraft and sentenced to be burnt to death. Ever since she had inherited the secondhand experiences of her deceased, but not dead, ancestor, she had become overly sensitive toward barbeques and the Salem witch trials.
“Zod finds it to be illogical that a male of your species, especially one so highly esteemed, should be so unreasonably attached to a female so useless.” The alien was saying as a burly handsome man on a horse barreled through the crowd of onlookers to reach the woman. He pulled a sword from his side and used it to expertly cut the rope holding Rebecca. The hero swung the lady up behind him with effortless grace and she clung to him tightly. “The female will prove more of a liability than a boon. Zod favors competency in all things.”
“Well, do you want him to end up with Lady Rowena instead?” Lana hotly demanded.
“She is better than Lady Rowena,” Zod conceded. Then added under his breath, “but not by much.”
“Damsels in distress are a tradition.” Lana pulled the spoon out with a pop and dropped it into the ice cream carton. “It’s… they make the guys feel stronger, I suppose. Like they’re needed. Guys are attracted to the idea of being in control.” She toed the pile of videos lying next to the sofa with one socked foot, shifting aside Sleeping Beauty until The Little Mermaid and Snow White were revealed. Besides such classics of Disney animation, the pile included the swashbuckling Errol Flynn films The Adventures of Robin Hood and Captain Blood, as well as that Legendary Tale of High Adventure and True Love, The Princess Bride. Legend was half-shoved under the sofa, probably on account of it being the sole product of the 80s which had the audacity to combine unicorns with power rock. A copy of Robin and Marian lay a slight distance away, having been included in the marathon for because it had among its virtues the presence of Audrey Hepburn in the cast and, even though it hadn’t been very good, Lana had yet to meet a Audrey Hepburn movie she could refuse.
“So this act of distress is part of a complex courtship dance in which the female manipulates the male into thinking that he has dominance over her. An act tailored specifically for the patriarchal society in which it is implemented, like a survival mechanism of sorts. It possesses a certain sort of cunning, Zod will concede, but nonetheless relies on impracticality in order to operate.”
“That’s exactly it!” Lana allowed herself a moment to indulge in imagination. Zod could talk all he wanted about impracticality and whatnot, but he didn’t know just how well the formula worked. He hadn’t been stalked his whole life by every horny mutant (and the occasional murderous one) within a hundred mile radius. She had perfected the art of crying prettily and wriggling just so to show off her legs to their best advantage. She could have the strongest men running to her rescue if she hurt so much as one little finger.
However, she was willing to admit that there may be more to the art than she previously suspected, hence the accumulation of videos for the purpose of study. Besides the classic tied-up and gagged damsel, there was also the defiantly sexy but overpowered spitfire, and the well-meaning but ultimately ineffectual female. Lana would probably need to figure out which approach Lex would appreciate the most. She allowed herself a moment of indulgence to imagine a possible scenario whilst Ivanhoe swashed many a buckle onscreen.
She was inside a deserted warehouse, stuck in between piles of boxes that were full of dubious, possibly narcotic, content. Her hands were bound behind her back, causing the fabric of her shirt to strain and pull tight against her breasts (which, in this daydream, had substantially grown in size - but not so much that she looked like a hussy). She could barely move her legs; her captor had bound them so tight. Clark (for it was he who had wronged her) now grinned down at her with a lecherous look. He was a huge brute of a man and his sharp fangs flashed when he smiled down at her.
“Still think Lex will want you, pretty, after I get done with you?”
She spat in his face. He snarled and wiped it off, then dealt her a vicious backhand. Her head whipped around, her dark hair fanning out in a wide arc, and she whimpered. Clark reached in and roughly tilted her chin up. He stroked her cheek.
“I like the ones with spirit. It’ll be fun breaking you.”
His hand reached down, inching toward her - okay, Lana was not going to go there, because that would be really, really nasty. But it was obvious what he wanted to do. Luckily, before anything could happen, a voice rang out like a beacon shining from the darkness.
“Get your hands off of her!”
Clark turned. In the open entrance of the warehouse, dramatically backlit by the blue sky, stood Lex. Though not so great in build as Clark, he cut a valiant, passionate figure- a modern day white knight in shining Armani. His hands were clenched at his sides and he was bristling in fury, dangerous and magnificent like a snow leopard in his righteous anger.
“Lex!” Lana wriggled, her hips swaying back and forth even though her legs were hindered by the ropes. Clark had tied them really tight, she could be in danger of fainting unless Lex got to her quickly. Oh, the world was starting to black out-
Lex ran towards a dumbfounded Clark, who didn’t try to move, on account of being a brain-dead lug. The better-dressed man swung his fist, Lana saw a flash of green, and then Clark was knocked flat out on the ground. Ignoring the predicament of his former friend, Lex stepped down hard on Clark’s chest in order to reach Lana. With his elegant hands, he quickly gathered Lana to his chest (which was nicely muscled, but not so much as to be off-putting) and held her fast, as though she were in danger of slipping through his fingers.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispered and, when she did so, her lower lip chose that exact moment to split from the blow Clark had dealt her. The rose red blood blossomed against her white skin. Lex tenderly wiped the crimson trail off her chin.
“How could I not?” he murmured, voice choked with emotion. “Darling…” he called her, and bent his head down, down, down so that his soft lips-
It was then that Lana noticed that Ivanhoe was kissing Lady Rowena onscreen.
“WHAT?!” she screeched.
Zod seemed startled. “Likewise, Zod did not anticipate this development.”
“Oh, I knew it was going to happen, I read the book. It’s just stupid that it did.”
“If you knew the ending, why express disappointment over an expected outcome?”
“Because I didn’t want it to end like that,” she explained, as though it were obvious. Ivanhoe was a gallant idiot. Anyone could see that Rebecca was worth ten of Lady Rowena, witch or not. She held out the ice cream carton toward Zod and offered, “Double mint chip?”
“Zod will decline.” Because Zod knew, unlike the inattentive Lana, that the carton had been empty and that Lana had been shoveling air into her mouth for quite a while. He watched a few more minutes of the movie without paying attention, engrossed in thinking about something else. Once the credits appeared, he said, “Humans are singularly illogical. Zod cannot figure them out.”
“I’m clear as a still pond,” Lana objected. “If you’re referring to Jason… yeah, I never got him either. A sweetheart one moment and pure evil the next.” She thought of this morning, when she had been asked by a harried Martha to watch him for “just a minute” (it had ended up being half-an-hour). The kid had obeyed Martha’s every directive without complaint and even listened to Zod’s complex schemes of world domination with nary a peep but once no one else was looking, he had also wiped his nose on Lana’s jacket sleeve and kicked her in the shin as ‘revenge’ for his dead mother.
“Now that’s done, it’s time to move onto the next one,” Lana declared. She dropped to her knees on the floor, still cradling the carton with one hand, and magically plucked a video from where there had been none before. “Ladyhawke,” she announced and scooted over to the VCR. She removed Ivanhoe, put the new movie in, and rocked back on her heels. Watching the digital display, she reinserted the spoon in her mouth and grimaced when she bit down on steel. From his perch on the sofa, Zod gave a long-suffering sigh and readied himself for yet more women in long flowing dresses and men in tights. On the whole, he preferred Jason’s afternoon cartoons.
With that relevant note, we shall end this demonstration of the biological imperative of mating in action. Having met these two vastly different creatures and been privy to their proposed methods of wooing, we must stop and wonder which shall prove more effective. Will the farmboy alien reign supreme or will the teenage witch’s wiles prevail? Only time will tell. Suffice to say that when these two cunning sexual predators are on the prowl, no bald billionaire shall ever be safe again.
***
“Mr. Luthor, your one o’clock is here.”
“Thank you, Talia.” Lex set aside the files he was perusing and folded his hands together.
He wondered, not for the first time, if there was a viable way to conduct LuthorCorp business from the mansion in Smallville instead of the towers in Metropolis. There was much of Lionel still in here, from the aesthetics of the walls to the rectangular lead paperweight etched with Et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis! in calligraphic text across one flat surface. For all his faults of character, it could never be said that Lionel Luthor did not possess a wicked sense of humor. “Send them in.”
A handsome blond man sauntered through the office doors and flashed a wide toothy smile at Lex. Behind him trailed his more serious looking dark-haired companion. The billionaire rose and was about to offer a hand in greeting when the blond was roughly pulled to the side.
“For heaven’s sake, Michael,” his brunet friend whispered furtively. “Just let me do all the talking.” He jerked on the blond’s elbow for emphasis.
“It’s Booster Gold, Ted.” The blond (Michael, obviously) snapped back in response. “How many times do I have to remind you?”
“There is no way I’m calling you that, it makes you sound like a rocket built in the fifties. In fact, I suggest you don’t refer to yourself like that if you don’t want people to laugh.”
“A good superhero name promotes self-confidence and optimism,” Michael’s response was cheerfully patronizing. “Not that you would know, having named yourself after a widely reviled insect. Though the alliteration bit was clever.”
Ted looked a bit taken aback, but seemed to recover nicely. “This is one of those future things, isn’t it? Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Gentlemen.” Lex interrupted. “If the pair of you are not ready for this conference, I suggest we postpone it until some later day.” He tried to look like he had better things to do than listen to two grown men bicker. It wasn’t hard.
Michael flashed him another of those thousand watt smiles. He had the broad-shoulders and trim waist of a professional athlete in his prime, as well as the cocky attitude and shiny hair to match. Lex would have guessed swimmer, but something about the distinctive gait (and the slight resemblance to an older Whitney Fordman) suggested that the sport of choice would involve pigskin. Funnily enough, Lex couldn’t remember him being a player in any of the major or minor leagues (though his knowledge was, admittedly, limited to whatever Clark had shown him).
The other man Lex knew. Theodore Kord, son of Thomas Kord, the founder of KORD, Incorporated. The elder Kord would never be as wealthy or successful as Lionel, not having the stomach for the more cutthroat business practices employed by those who regularly ran in the same circles as the Luthors. But that had never stopped Lex from holding a grudging admiration for the son. When he had happened to read about Kord’s college reputation as an electronics prodigy and his recent employment to KORD, Inc.’s Research and Development department, Lex had felt a sudden and strange sense of empathy. He had been reminded briefly on his own schooling, the wistful nebulous ideas he had once entertained of breaking into some scientific field or the other.
Indeed, it was only this admiration (lessening by the minute) that had led Lex to call this meeting in the first place. He tapped his fingers against his imported Scandinavian teak desk, idly wondering how long it would be before courtesy was exhausted and he could throw the two out of his office with a clear conscience.
“That’s not necessary,” Ted said, collecting himself. He brushed brown hair out of his eyes and tried on a smile. It made him look as though he had swallowed something particularly unpleasant. He said briskly. “Welcome back to Metropolis, Mr. Luthor.”
“It’s a pleasure to return, Mr. Kord.” Lex lied, shaking Ted’s hand. “Call me Lex.”
Ted introduced “Mr. Michael Carter” and Lex turned to shake the blond’s hand. Michael stared at the outstretched palm for a moment, then reached out and pumped Lex’s hand up and down vigorously, all the while whispering to himself, “So this is what taking place in an antiquated greeting ritual is like! Physical contact!” He then stared with great intensity at their clasped hands.
Ted cleared his throat, “Michael, you can release Mr. Luthor’s hand now.”
Lex raised an eyebrow and extracted his fingers from Michael’s grasp. “Mr. Kord, what exactly was it that you imagined I could help you with?”
“Actually,” Ted began, looking very embarrassed. “I requested an audience, Lex, because my associate-”
“-partner!” yelped Michael.
“-has a business proposal for you.” Ted finished.
“I’m looking for sponsors,” Michael announced. “for a entrepreneurial venture I have in mind. Teddy has already agreed to talk to his dad, but he told me that I needed more investors onboard if I want to start a business. And, hey, you’re the richest guy in Metropolis, even if Ted thinks you’re a corrupt fatcat and the son of corporate slime.”
“Mike,” said Ted through gritted teeth. “I’m not a stuffed bear.” Then, in a lower, panicked voice, “And ix-nay on the atcat-fay uff-stay already.”
“Teddy, Teddy.” Michael replied sweetly, “lay off my given name and I’ll reconsider leaving you some of your dignity intact.”
Ted looked like he wanted to forcibly introduce Michael’s face to the wood detail of Lex’s polished desk.
Lex leveled a sharklike grin at Michael. “I’m flattered. You’ll have to tell me more about this proposal of yours.” In keeping with the spirit of his new resolutions, Lex thought it would be deliciously satisfying to encourage the man before flatly declining all of his suggestions. And then making him pay dearly for the ‘fatcat’ comment. With a pound of flesh and his firstborn child.
Michael beamed while Ted groaned and put his head in his hands. “Trust me, Lex. You’ll like this,” the blond confided. “Looking at you, I’d say you’re a man with pretty refined tastes but a stressful lifestyle. So I’m thinking… how would you like to take time out and visit a resort on a tropical island? Not just any resort, nothing as boring as that old Hilton stooge has. We’re young guys, we’ve got our fingers on the pulse of what’s hip. No, it’ll be a resort with a superheroic theme. Imagine it. Chilling with Green Lantern cocktails while watching the sunset. Having your every wish attended to by curvy babes in Wonder Woman suits or cute boys in Aqualad shorts. It’ll be the hottest getaway spot ever, the buckaroos will roll right in.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ted interrupted. “Who’s Wonder Woman and Aqualad? Don’t you mean Warrior Angel?”
“Oh, they’re not here yet?” Michael sounded genuinely surprised. “Well then, give it a few years.”
Lex hadn’t heard any part of the conversation after the word island. There was a droning in his ears, growing higher and shriller by the moment. The office blurred and dissolved. He could feel the burning sun scorching the skin of his bare back, could see the white waves of the ocean stretched out around him in a watery prison. He could remember creeping around in the leafy underbrush during the day to escape the worst of the heat and huddling close to a pitiful pile of dying embers during the night. If he cared to look over his left shoulder, he would see the bright bloodshot eyes of a man he once killed.
“I’m not dead.”
“Pardon?” Ted asked.
Stumbling forward, Lex ordered, “Go away.”
The smile disappeared off Michael’s face.
Lex felt the brush of straggly hair on his shoulders and heard a familiar sneer. “We are very proud tonight.”
“It’s daytime.” Ted said softly.
Lex turned around.
“Didja miss me, rich boy?” Louis crooned. “I’ve been waiting on this here island a long, long time. Thought you were never coming back.”
“I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Lex responded with an air of studied coolness. “You could have chosen a more convenient time to drop in unannounced.”
“Now, that’s no way to speak to an old friend. If you don’t want me to swing on by, you gotta visit at least every once in a while, Prince Charming.” Louis picked up Lex’s letter opener from the desk and inspected the edge by running a dirt-encrusted finger over it.
“Why would I want to go and do something like that, when I’ve been dealing quite nicely in the absence of your odious personality?”
Louis shrugged and used the letter opener to pick open a scab on his elbow. “If you say so, it seems to me like you’re in the same place where I last left you. Your luck with personal relationships hasn’t improved at all. You got rid of the doctor, but now there’s another homicidal bitch panting after you.”
Louis scratched at his pockmarked face, leaving behind a faint red trail. He smirked at Lex. “And how’s Daddy Dearest doing? Bet it was satisfying to lock him up in his glass room. Didn’t you just want to spank him for being a bad boy and meddling in your affairs?”
“Oh, God, don’t talk about my father issues. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve exhausted the same discourse.” Lex rolled his eyes. “I’m getting sick of the topic.”
“I’d think we’ll just be going now, Mr. Luthor,” Michael called out as he inched ever so slowly toward the nearest available exit.
“Good going, Mike,” groused Ted. “You drove the guy insane.” He fumbled for the doorknob and cracked the door open a few crucial inches.
“He’s rich,” whined Michael in his own defense. “The rich all have problems.”
Lex caught their movement out of the corner of his eye and. His. Patience. Just. Snapped. “DON’T MOVE!” He raised a quivering finger in Michael and Ted’s direction. “I’M NOT FINISHED WITH THE TWO OF YOU!”
Michael whimpered.
“Mr. Luthor?” came the soft womanish query from the blessed region beyond the door. To Ted, it sounded like the voice of angels. He kept a wary eye on Lex, feeling an abrupt affinity for Australian men who wrestled crocodiles for a living. Ted considered calling for help, but realized how badly it would look for him to need rescuing from a businessman brandishing a letter opener.
Michael, fortunately, had neither qualms nor dignity to lose by begging. “Please, secretary person, come help us. Your boss is crazy.”
Louis moved toward Lex, unfazed by the withering glare he received from the latter. “Hey, Baldy, you think I have hair to compensate for the fact you look like a cue ball?” He reached out to brush his hand over Lex’s bare head.
Lex moved his head out of range of any searching fingers. “Don’t.”
Talia poked her head over the door, pretty eyes widening. “Oh. My. Mr. Luthor’s having another one of his episodes.”
“What do you mean ‘episodes’? This is normal?”
“Happens every once in a while.” She disappeared out of sight. Ted had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Lex Luthor going crazy wasn’t enough for his secretary to brave a rescue attempt of his hapless guests because, apparently, this sort of thing happened around the office on a regular basis.
Louis jumped forward and grabbed Lex, stabbing Lex with the letter opener.
Lex responded by biting Louis.
Talia reappeared, pushing the door open so she could fully enter. She was clutching a bottle of pills in one perfectly manicured hand.
“Oh, Mr. Luthor!” she trilled. “It’s time for your medication!”
Lex’s head swiveled to look at his employee. He snapped his teeth at her, dropped to his knees and crawled under his desk.
Talia beamed cheerfully at Ted and Michael. “Perhaps you’d better step back, boys.” Reaching down, she removed both of her shoes. She picked one of them up, hefting it in the palm that wasn’t carrying the medicine. She eyed the pointed heel with careful consideration, as if estimating the damage it could do to vulnerable human flesh.
“Boss,” she sing-songed, advancing with the footwear brandished in front of her. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”
There was the rustle of movement from the desk. Talia’s eyes narrowed and she darted forward a step, stopping when an empty chair innocuously rolled out from behind the desk. False alarm.
Talia muttered under her breath, reminding herself to remember everything her father had taught her. Butterfly knives are rarely suitable as razors. Poison hemlock was most recognizable by the purple spots on its stem. Never underestimate prey if you want to make an easy kill. The last one was particularly important. As quarry went, this one was smarter and harder to catch than most. Richard Connell was right; the Cape buffalo was not the most dangerous big game.
A dark streak and there he was - making a break for the door!
Talia dove and crashed right into Lex. The two of them collided and tumbled onto the floor, Talia using her elbows to try and pin Lex into the ground. Lex twisted, attempting to get away, and Talia put a quick end to that by driving her heel into Lex’s side with enough force that it punctured through his suit. Lex let out a piercing whine and clamped his teeth down hard on Talia’s offending right hand. She grunted and turned her body, bringing her left hand up so that she could open the pill bottle. It was an effort made much more needlessly difficult by Lex shaking his head in a great impression of a rat terrier.
“Looks like you’ve got everything under control, ma’am.” Ted called out. “My friend and I will just be going now-” As he hurriedly ushered Michael out the exit, a designer high heel whizzed through the air and embedded itself in the wooden doorframe. Their voices carried back into the room. (“Ted, how was I to know Mr. Luthor would be so opposed toward my perfectly reasonable sales pitch?” “Serves me right. The next time traveler Max tries to foist on me, I am leaving on the nearest street corner.”)
Talia scratched her nails at the side of Lex’s mouth, trying to pry his jaw open. He kicked out, one leg catching her in the stomach and expelling the breath from her lungs, so she gave up that tactic and tried another one by pinching his nose shut. He tried to slap her hand off and she twisted hard. He howled in pain and she took the opportunity to extract her hand and shove the pills in.
He backed away, nursing his hurt nose and the letter opener still hanging from one arm. He looked dazed and Talia took advantage of that by darting forward and sticking one hand under his chin. She pushed his head up and massaged his throat until she was sure she felt him swallow the pills. He did so, but choked and sputtered, giving Talia enough time to pick up the heavy paperweight off his desk and to use it to deliver a hard blow to his head. Lex slumped down to the floor, unconscious.
Talia frowned and arranged her employer’s body into a more comfortable position. She readjusted her clothes and hair, found her shoes and put the pair of them on, then walked unsteadily out the door.
Talia went to her desk and flipped through the leather-bound planner where she kept track of all of Lex’s appointments. She located a number, picked up the company phone, and dialed.
“Hello? This is Talia Head, am I speaking to Mr. Kord?… Hello again, Mr. Kord. As you may recall, I’m Mr. Luthor’s assistant…Thank you, I have been working out. But that’s beside the point. We have some unfinished business. Did you expect this to be a courtesy call?... Yes, I am aware that this is your personal cell... What do I want? Only to helpfully suggest that neither you nor your associate let it be known to any other party what exactly occurred during your meeting with Mr. Luthor. Otherwise, I can personally guarantee that life will become much more interesting for the pair of you… K.O.R.D, Inc has never had much trouble obtaining government grants for research purposes, has it? As for the charming Mr. Carter, an illegal immigrant is still an illegal immigrant, whether or not he travels over time instead of distance. And so on. I believe you get my drift… Absolutely. We at LuthorCorp are thorough, aren’t we?...Yes, that will be all. Thank you for your time. Have a pleasant remainder of the day, Mr. Kord.”
She hung up and jotted a note in the planner with a sparkly purple pen. When she was finished, she pressed a button on the same machine that contained the phone. When the intercom crackled to life, Talia requested a first aid kit be brought up to Lex’s office. Not five minutes later, it was promptly handed to her by one of the new interns, a pimply kid whose name she had yet to learn.
After she had wiped the blood off her hand, swabbed disinfectant on it, and wrapped it in gauze, Talia trotted back into her boss’ office with the first aid kit. She pulled the letter opener out of Lex’s arm and slapped a band-aid on the entry wound. For good measure, she also stuck a few more band-aid over the various scratches on his face.
Then she sat back and waited. About half an hour later, Lex stirred. He opened his eyes and looked up to see his assistant peering warily down at him.
“Shit,” he said. “It happened again, didn’t it?”
Talia nodded.
Lex sighed. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
***
There was a brown llama. It was absolutely terrifying. Its eyes were rolled up in contemptuous distaste and its teeth were bared in preparation of flying spittle. And it was not alone, being flanked on all sides by its like-minded ungulate brethren. All looked ready to inflict copious violence on any living creature foolish enough to tread too closely.
Clark turned the postcard over.
Clarkie, followed by the sloppy drawing of a four-legged animal, presumably a dog.
You are most definitely heterosexual. There is no stronger proof than that waltz of clumsy advance and strategic retreat you insist on dancing with Lana. Straight as an arrow, you are. Never mind the fact that, if you were really interested in Lana, you would have had her by now. Girls like that only play coy. And that’s all I have to say on that matter. It’s an issue for Laura Ingalls Wilder and yourself to work out. Soon.
Okay, since your sordid love life is out of the way, we can focus on something much more important - me. This will as a surprise to all, but I want to thank you. Don’t look so shocked, Farmboy. I do possess manners, despite the lovable bitch goddess exterior that says otherwise.
You know the red notebook you gave me as a gift - in a moment of mindnumbing stupidity - while saying that every girl should have a diary (an offensive sexist generalization I should have well and beaten you for)? And I laughed loudly in your face when you pulled it out but ended up bringing with me anyway? Well, pigs have flown, and Lois Lane has written.
Because there’s so much happening here and I’m trying to find words. But I can’t. One day, I’m going to drag you here so you can work your truth, justice, and apple pie magic on people that really need it. It’ll be my way of expressing gratitude.
Lois
Clark slid the postcard in between the pages of a thumbed copy of Kiss of the Spider Woman and set the book down on the desk.
***
Notes - for those of you too lazy to use Google:
Alderaan is, of course, Princess Leia’s home planet in Star Wars IV: A New Hope, blown up by the Death Star in order to demonstrate the full power of the battle station.
Michael Jon Carter is Booster Gold. He’s an ex-(American) football player from the 25th century who decided to make a quick buck by stealing and coming back to the 21st century to become a superhero. His superhero name derives from his football background (he “boosts” the ball) and he claims to have no alter ego. He’s fond of harebrained schemes and supplements his income by capitalizing on his image and doing product endorsements.
Theodore Kord is the second Blue Beetle, inheriting the mantle from his teacher, Dan Garrett. He’s a multimillionaire electronics genius and designs his own crime-fighting weapons like a ray gun and an airship. He tends to be the more serious of the two and constantly plays Felix to Booster’s Oscar. I’ve also seen his name written as Edward Kord, but no one seems too sure what it is - he usually goes by “Ted.”
Both Booster Gold and Blue Beetle are from DC Comics. They’re usually regarded as B-list heroes and troublemakers by the Justice League. Blue Beetle was recently killed to kick off the massive DC multi-title crossover in Countdown to Infinite Crisis. Check out Giffen, DeMatteis, and Maguire’s Formerly Known as the Justice League and this massive post of comic book scans for more about them.
The quote on Lionel’s paperweight in the incantation uttered by Doctor Faustus in order to summon the demon Mephistophilis . The full quote reads: Per Jehovam, Gehennam et consecratum aquam quam nunc spargo, signumque crucis quod nunc facio, et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis! and translates to “By Jehovah, Gehenna, and the holy water which now I sprinkle, and the sign of the cross which now I make, and by our prayer, may Mephistophilis now summoned by us arise!” Throughout the course of the play, the eponymous Faustus conspires to sell his soul to Mephistophilis in exchange for wealth and women.
Louis’ first words to Lex are taken from Oscar Wilde’s novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, as is his “Prince Charming” moniker. "We are very proud tonight," is the line a prostitute says to Dorian's character and the nickname is one his old love called him by. Yeah, I don't know where that came from.
Richard Connell was right; the Cape buffalo was not the most dangerous big game is a reference to the famous short story, where the most dangerous game to hunt was man.
Talia Head is the daughter of crimelord and ecoterrorist Ra’s Al Ghul. If Ra’s name sounds familiar at all, it may be because you saw him in Batman Begins (though Talia herself didn’t make an appearance). Talia is usually torn between her undeniable attraction to Batman and her loyalty to her father’s agenda. In a more recent incarnation, she became disillusioned with her father and left him to run LexCorp when Lex Luthor became President of the United States. She betrayed Lex by leaking information of his illegal activities to Superman and selling his corporate assets to the Wayne Foundation, leaving Lex destitute. Talia and Lex have teamed up again for the Society of Villains in the recent Villains United series, proving once and for all that comic book Lex is a dumbass.
Kiss of the Spider Woman is a novel by Manuel Puig and a 1985 film whose plotline revolves around two men in a Brazilian prison. One is a political prisoner and the other is in prison because he is a homosexual. The title may sound it comes from a bad horror movie or unwatchable Spider-Man sequel, but the film is well-respected and most famous for the sexual tension between its two male leads. The book is a clue to Lois’ whereabouts (she’s in Argentina, where the author was born) and what it is she’s doing (getting involved in the local politics and stirring up trouble).
Neat Smallville connection: In a 2002 TWoP interview, Omar G asked Al Gough exactly how homoerotic the relationship was between Lex Luthor and Clark Kent and got the response, “It’s not supposed to be homoerotic at all. I sometimes read your site and think we’re doing Kiss of the Spider Woman.”