SV - Glitch
Getting all of my shame out of the way and posting these both at once...
Title: Glitch
Genre: Smallville (again, don’t ask), Gen, Future fic
Length: ~865 words
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Times changed; he wished some things hadn’t.
Author’s Notes: For the cliche_bingo entry “androids/robots”. Can’t blame this one on threnodyjones as much as the last one, unless you count her insisting “Smallville loves you and wants to be your friend” as blameworthy (I do).
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Lex looked down at the glass in his hand. He shook it, letting the ice cubes rattle against the crystal cut edges, a reminder that he had downed the amber liquid before they had even had the chance to melt.
“Lana, love, be a dear and refill this for me,” he called, stretching his arm out and looking back down at his readouts instead of bothering to look her in the eye.
“Of course,” she chirped. The weight of the glass disappeared and he could hear her pad over on the soft carpeting to the small cabinet beside the desk. There was the rattle of bottles clinking against each other, items being adjusted as she did his bidding.
The glass was returned to his hand, heavier now, and he brought it back to him with a half-hearted, “Thanks,” barely whispered upon his lips. The whisper became a curse as cool liquid spilled across his fingers and trickled down upon the fine leather chair. He set the glass on some less important papers and shook out his hand, looking for something to sop up the mess.
“Did I do something wrong?” Lana asked, head tilted to the precise angle that told him she was sorry.
He looked to his drink, made with exactly three ice cubes and three fingers’ worth of Scotch, and shook his head. She had made it correctly, just the way he liked it, but had not taken into account the three cubes still remaining and it had overflowed. “No, it’s fine,” he told her, watching her blink worriedly. “Just a slight programming glitch. It can be fixed.”
“I shall report to the labs immediately,” she replied. The little bracelet at her wrist changed from glowing green to red as she turned towards the door.
“No, no,” he shook his head. “It’s fine. It can wait until tomorrow.”
She paused and turned around, graceful as ever. “But I am not perfect. My programming needs updating. I can not serve you effectively until this is corrected,” she insisted.
He sighed. It was his own fault. The safety protocols he had installed made sure that any slight abnormality was tended to immediately to ensure the system had not been hacked and there was nothing drastic, like say an attempt upon his life, in progress. “Very well,” he allowed.
She nodded, beaming smile in place. “I can send up Chloe 9.5 for companionship, or Clark 8.6, if you prefer,” she offered.
He was tempted, oh so tempted. All he wanted was a companion, a friend he could talk to, someone who might not exactly understand what he was going through, but could fake it enough to commiserate with him. At times like this though, the farce shone through just a bit too much and he had to wonder if suffering in solitary silence would be more beneficial than just pretending to continue the sham.
He opened his mouth to give her the next command, watched as she waited ever so patiently, nearly human plasticine form poised to emote concern and caring even as she processed a thousand and one binary codes in a single moment.
It turned out he didn’t need to say a word. He felt the presence at his side; living, breathing, and oh so real. “He’s fine tonight, Lana. Go have yourself seen to,” a warm and familiar voice answered for him.
“Very well,” she nodded and complied, the door sliding silently shut behind her.
Lex turned to face his visitor, eyed him carefully and could not help but think of how little he had changed throughout all these long years. Solid and strong and, most importantly, living and breathing and made of flesh and blood and not wire and circuitry. “Hello, Clark,” he said in greeting.
There was too much between them, too many years. They had been each other’s worst enemies and they had been each other’s salvation. There were no pretenses, only honesty in all its brutal forms. He didn’t have to pretend to be lord and master of the world at large, and Clark didn’t have to pretend to be a superhero intent on saving that same world from the likes of him.
Clark leaned against the hardwood desk, eyes drifting between Lex and the door his android reproduction had just disappeared through. “Doesn’t it get old after a while? Playing house and trying to recapture the glory days of your youth?”
Lex thought of those days, could barely remember them anymore, burnt out of his memory by a weapon he had just enough hubris to think he could control, leaving the world as his for the taking but at the cost of those he didn’t know enough to hold dear until they were gone.
“Yeah,” he answered, leaning back into his chair with a sigh. He gestured to the one across from him, equally as fine and just as comfortable. “Sit with me for a while?”
Clark nodded, but did not go immediately to the offered seat. Instead, he walked over to the little bar and pulled out two fresh glasses and the bottle of Scotch. Somehow, Lex knew this one was going to be made just right.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed. Yes, even for this.
Title: Glitch
Genre: Smallville (again, don’t ask), Gen, Future fic
Length: ~865 words
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Times changed; he wished some things hadn’t.
Author’s Notes: For the cliche_bingo entry “androids/robots”. Can’t blame this one on threnodyjones as much as the last one, unless you count her insisting “Smallville loves you and wants to be your friend” as blameworthy (I do).
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Lex looked down at the glass in his hand. He shook it, letting the ice cubes rattle against the crystal cut edges, a reminder that he had downed the amber liquid before they had even had the chance to melt.
“Lana, love, be a dear and refill this for me,” he called, stretching his arm out and looking back down at his readouts instead of bothering to look her in the eye.
“Of course,” she chirped. The weight of the glass disappeared and he could hear her pad over on the soft carpeting to the small cabinet beside the desk. There was the rattle of bottles clinking against each other, items being adjusted as she did his bidding.
The glass was returned to his hand, heavier now, and he brought it back to him with a half-hearted, “Thanks,” barely whispered upon his lips. The whisper became a curse as cool liquid spilled across his fingers and trickled down upon the fine leather chair. He set the glass on some less important papers and shook out his hand, looking for something to sop up the mess.
“Did I do something wrong?” Lana asked, head tilted to the precise angle that told him she was sorry.
He looked to his drink, made with exactly three ice cubes and three fingers’ worth of Scotch, and shook his head. She had made it correctly, just the way he liked it, but had not taken into account the three cubes still remaining and it had overflowed. “No, it’s fine,” he told her, watching her blink worriedly. “Just a slight programming glitch. It can be fixed.”
“I shall report to the labs immediately,” she replied. The little bracelet at her wrist changed from glowing green to red as she turned towards the door.
“No, no,” he shook his head. “It’s fine. It can wait until tomorrow.”
She paused and turned around, graceful as ever. “But I am not perfect. My programming needs updating. I can not serve you effectively until this is corrected,” she insisted.
He sighed. It was his own fault. The safety protocols he had installed made sure that any slight abnormality was tended to immediately to ensure the system had not been hacked and there was nothing drastic, like say an attempt upon his life, in progress. “Very well,” he allowed.
She nodded, beaming smile in place. “I can send up Chloe 9.5 for companionship, or Clark 8.6, if you prefer,” she offered.
He was tempted, oh so tempted. All he wanted was a companion, a friend he could talk to, someone who might not exactly understand what he was going through, but could fake it enough to commiserate with him. At times like this though, the farce shone through just a bit too much and he had to wonder if suffering in solitary silence would be more beneficial than just pretending to continue the sham.
He opened his mouth to give her the next command, watched as she waited ever so patiently, nearly human plasticine form poised to emote concern and caring even as she processed a thousand and one binary codes in a single moment.
It turned out he didn’t need to say a word. He felt the presence at his side; living, breathing, and oh so real. “He’s fine tonight, Lana. Go have yourself seen to,” a warm and familiar voice answered for him.
“Very well,” she nodded and complied, the door sliding silently shut behind her.
Lex turned to face his visitor, eyed him carefully and could not help but think of how little he had changed throughout all these long years. Solid and strong and, most importantly, living and breathing and made of flesh and blood and not wire and circuitry. “Hello, Clark,” he said in greeting.
There was too much between them, too many years. They had been each other’s worst enemies and they had been each other’s salvation. There were no pretenses, only honesty in all its brutal forms. He didn’t have to pretend to be lord and master of the world at large, and Clark didn’t have to pretend to be a superhero intent on saving that same world from the likes of him.
Clark leaned against the hardwood desk, eyes drifting between Lex and the door his android reproduction had just disappeared through. “Doesn’t it get old after a while? Playing house and trying to recapture the glory days of your youth?”
Lex thought of those days, could barely remember them anymore, burnt out of his memory by a weapon he had just enough hubris to think he could control, leaving the world as his for the taking but at the cost of those he didn’t know enough to hold dear until they were gone.
“Yeah,” he answered, leaning back into his chair with a sigh. He gestured to the one across from him, equally as fine and just as comfortable. “Sit with me for a while?”
Clark nodded, but did not go immediately to the offered seat. Instead, he walked over to the little bar and pulled out two fresh glasses and the bottle of Scotch. Somehow, Lex knew this one was going to be made just right.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed. Yes, even for this.