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Brothers & Heroes part 50!
Oy, it's the never-ending story only without that creepy flying hairball!
The Previous Parts are here, thrilled that soon they'll be able to wear thongs again.
LuthorCorp acquired Harrison Foods and Lionel Luthor was told politely by Victoria Luthor to get stuffed when he brought up the subject of grandchildren—genetically Luthor grandchildren. Lex loved her more and more, and enjoyed Lionel’s frustration when he found that nothing and no one made Vic do what she didn’t want to.
Lex’s life fell into a comfortable pattern, not hugely different from before, only now instead of Lionel’s little morning lists, he got Vic’s. Lionel’s people were terrified to cross Vic’s and Lex reaped the benefits. He got privacy, and space to explore his own projects, and the reins to his own life.
Vic and he quickly decided that the subject of bedroom partners were off limits to the both of them, not difficult for either to adhere to—discretion, that was all that was required of either of them. Lex was fine with finding strangers to breakfast; on occasion he took a stranger back to his bedroom, and every once in a while, Vic joined him. Life was unconventional, but it was fine with him. He had a family again, of sorts, and friendship, and he was happy.
******
Before the official start of his business day, as he did nearly every day, Lex worked through the newspaper clippings his secretary gave him in the morning, along with a thick file of information provided by the team of investigators working for him. He turned on the television normally concealed behind the doors of an antique armoire, and loaded a player with one of the several videocassettes he’d received that morning with the files. He sat on the couch, taking notes, totally fascinated by what he saw on the tapes.
A bright red and gold shape sped past the camera in the first clip, making Lex gasp. The ‘super-heroes’ that began popping up in Metropolis, Gotham City, and other large urban centers along the east coast were an incredible phenomenon. Lex was completely absorbed by the desire to know everything he could about them, he thoroughly searched out every hero in the public eye.
In his most private thoughts, he admitted to himself it was a search for something else, too. He imagined that one day one of those humble, self-effacing heroes would reveal themselves to be Clark. The way they seemed driven to help, to offer comfort and ask for nothing in return, they were the best of the best, and yet, they only wanted to be of service… just the kind of person Clark was.
Lately there’d been a lot of talk in Gotham about a vigilante operating under cover of darkness. Unlike most of the super humans that operated in the cities, this one was a creature of the shadows, seemed to purposely avoid the cameras and reporters that found the other costumed heroes. He didn’t seem to have the powers that the others possessed—no stretching, no soaring flights, no super speed or fantastically powered costume accessories—he went about his business, quietly, secretly and without fanfare. Always in the dark.
Lex had little information besides a few disjointed reports—most of what he did have was from the victims—the criminals--he apprehended. Their stories were often conflicting—he appeared out of the dark, he flew, he didn’t fly, he laughed a lot--he was dour and frightening, he was a devil—on that point most agreed. It was speculated that instead of one man, it might be a group that were operating as vigilantes—or that if he did exist, there was a possibility that he himself was a criminal.
Lex snorted quietly. That was the line of thought of the GCPD was taking, at any rate. This particular ‘hero’ wasn’t above delivering the bad guys pretty well beaten to a pulp. He seemed to operate from fear, intimidation, and from the looks of it, enjoyed it. He smiled bleakly. Maybe Gotham was just getting the kind of hero it deserved.
Lex had to admit, he rather admired him and hoped that he did exist. It seemed almost like poetic justice--to operate out of the darkness to bring an end to darkness, without worrying about the gray areas.
Lex turned the set off and thought. No one knew who these people were, and yet what they did was moral and right. What this guy did was what any concerned citizen could do. He looked at the phone. Any one could stop a crime—all they had to do was care enough. When people didn’t speak up, when they made no attempt to stop the wrong they knew was happening, when they hid behind each other and shifted responsibility on to their fellows, well, an awful lot of terrible things could happen, couldn’t they ….
*****
Lex stood on the dock, outlined in the headlights of his car and patiently waited for the meeting he’d arranged. He pictured what the scene looked like and granted it might be a little over-dramatic, clandestine meetings in the dead of night, the obligatory bellow of a tugboat in the distance, the quiet lap of water against the dock pilings…he stifled a snigger, and swallowed hard. Nerves were making him giddy and that wouldn’t do.
A man came out of the shadows and coughed lightly. Behind him the shadows shifted and solidified into a group of men. Lex smiled and turned slightly to gesture to his car, and the men inside.
The older man smiled tightly and inclined his head an inch. “Luthor?” He put his hands in his coat pockets and let his ice blue eyes linger over Lex’s face, trail down his body. His smile lifted a corner of his mouth, but his eyes never changed—piercing, cold, but there was a slowly dawning light of interest there, too.
“Yes. I’m Luthor.” Lex felt cold sweat roll down his back, but he kept his voice even, copied the movement of the other. He slid his hands into his coat pockets, he leaned back on his heels and returned the scrutiny, with a practiced smirk.
The other man tilted his head a bit and said, “Shall we pretend that I don’t know what did you wanted to meet about?”
“Now, now. Mr. Edge. I’d like to talk to you—first about Luthor Exports. And then about an up and coming company…Lexcorp.”
The man smiled, and his eyes warmed a fraction. “All right. Let’s talk. You know, I’m an old friend of your father’s. It’s out of respect to him, that I chose to meet with you,” he lied.
“Really?” Lex grinned and smoothed his lapels. Edge’s eyes followed the movement like a cat watching a mouse. “Then it’s nice to think that I’ll be doing business with a family friend.”
TBC, soon, 'cause I'm working on it *as we speak!!*
The Previous Parts are here, thrilled that soon they'll be able to wear thongs again.
LuthorCorp acquired Harrison Foods and Lionel Luthor was told politely by Victoria Luthor to get stuffed when he brought up the subject of grandchildren—genetically Luthor grandchildren. Lex loved her more and more, and enjoyed Lionel’s frustration when he found that nothing and no one made Vic do what she didn’t want to.
Lex’s life fell into a comfortable pattern, not hugely different from before, only now instead of Lionel’s little morning lists, he got Vic’s. Lionel’s people were terrified to cross Vic’s and Lex reaped the benefits. He got privacy, and space to explore his own projects, and the reins to his own life.
Vic and he quickly decided that the subject of bedroom partners were off limits to the both of them, not difficult for either to adhere to—discretion, that was all that was required of either of them. Lex was fine with finding strangers to breakfast; on occasion he took a stranger back to his bedroom, and every once in a while, Vic joined him. Life was unconventional, but it was fine with him. He had a family again, of sorts, and friendship, and he was happy.
******
Before the official start of his business day, as he did nearly every day, Lex worked through the newspaper clippings his secretary gave him in the morning, along with a thick file of information provided by the team of investigators working for him. He turned on the television normally concealed behind the doors of an antique armoire, and loaded a player with one of the several videocassettes he’d received that morning with the files. He sat on the couch, taking notes, totally fascinated by what he saw on the tapes.
A bright red and gold shape sped past the camera in the first clip, making Lex gasp. The ‘super-heroes’ that began popping up in Metropolis, Gotham City, and other large urban centers along the east coast were an incredible phenomenon. Lex was completely absorbed by the desire to know everything he could about them, he thoroughly searched out every hero in the public eye.
In his most private thoughts, he admitted to himself it was a search for something else, too. He imagined that one day one of those humble, self-effacing heroes would reveal themselves to be Clark. The way they seemed driven to help, to offer comfort and ask for nothing in return, they were the best of the best, and yet, they only wanted to be of service… just the kind of person Clark was.
Lately there’d been a lot of talk in Gotham about a vigilante operating under cover of darkness. Unlike most of the super humans that operated in the cities, this one was a creature of the shadows, seemed to purposely avoid the cameras and reporters that found the other costumed heroes. He didn’t seem to have the powers that the others possessed—no stretching, no soaring flights, no super speed or fantastically powered costume accessories—he went about his business, quietly, secretly and without fanfare. Always in the dark.
Lex had little information besides a few disjointed reports—most of what he did have was from the victims—the criminals--he apprehended. Their stories were often conflicting—he appeared out of the dark, he flew, he didn’t fly, he laughed a lot--he was dour and frightening, he was a devil—on that point most agreed. It was speculated that instead of one man, it might be a group that were operating as vigilantes—or that if he did exist, there was a possibility that he himself was a criminal.
Lex snorted quietly. That was the line of thought of the GCPD was taking, at any rate. This particular ‘hero’ wasn’t above delivering the bad guys pretty well beaten to a pulp. He seemed to operate from fear, intimidation, and from the looks of it, enjoyed it. He smiled bleakly. Maybe Gotham was just getting the kind of hero it deserved.
Lex had to admit, he rather admired him and hoped that he did exist. It seemed almost like poetic justice--to operate out of the darkness to bring an end to darkness, without worrying about the gray areas.
Lex turned the set off and thought. No one knew who these people were, and yet what they did was moral and right. What this guy did was what any concerned citizen could do. He looked at the phone. Any one could stop a crime—all they had to do was care enough. When people didn’t speak up, when they made no attempt to stop the wrong they knew was happening, when they hid behind each other and shifted responsibility on to their fellows, well, an awful lot of terrible things could happen, couldn’t they ….
*****
Lex stood on the dock, outlined in the headlights of his car and patiently waited for the meeting he’d arranged. He pictured what the scene looked like and granted it might be a little over-dramatic, clandestine meetings in the dead of night, the obligatory bellow of a tugboat in the distance, the quiet lap of water against the dock pilings…he stifled a snigger, and swallowed hard. Nerves were making him giddy and that wouldn’t do.
A man came out of the shadows and coughed lightly. Behind him the shadows shifted and solidified into a group of men. Lex smiled and turned slightly to gesture to his car, and the men inside.
The older man smiled tightly and inclined his head an inch. “Luthor?” He put his hands in his coat pockets and let his ice blue eyes linger over Lex’s face, trail down his body. His smile lifted a corner of his mouth, but his eyes never changed—piercing, cold, but there was a slowly dawning light of interest there, too.
“Yes. I’m Luthor.” Lex felt cold sweat roll down his back, but he kept his voice even, copied the movement of the other. He slid his hands into his coat pockets, he leaned back on his heels and returned the scrutiny, with a practiced smirk.
The other man tilted his head a bit and said, “Shall we pretend that I don’t know what did you wanted to meet about?”
“Now, now. Mr. Edge. I’d like to talk to you—first about Luthor Exports. And then about an up and coming company…Lexcorp.”
The man smiled, and his eyes warmed a fraction. “All right. Let’s talk. You know, I’m an old friend of your father’s. It’s out of respect to him, that I chose to meet with you,” he lied.
“Really?” Lex grinned and smoothed his lapels. Edge’s eyes followed the movement like a cat watching a mouse. “Then it’s nice to think that I’ll be doing business with a family friend.”
TBC, soon, 'cause I'm working on it *as we speak!!*
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:)
Damnit. Clark and Bruce are making me *so pissed*, but i'm glad Vic makes Lex a little happy.
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I mean lets face it Clark is not the same little boy Lex has built up in his mind. Bruce has turned him into something colder... aand i'd say something more manipulative. That warm heart seems to be encased in a ring of ice... and now i'm going to stop my ranting.
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*sigh* Is there gonna be any Clex ever? Cause, you know, Lex and "others" is cute, but...*siiiigh*
I am such a fan of your writing, you make me feel like I'm there!!!
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Whaaaaattt!
I can't wait for the boys to come. *g*
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Lex gonna have to get beat up by Edge, huh, before we see Clark and Bruce?
I don't wanna see him get hurt, even if he does heal fast. It's still hurting the Lex, lol!
(These pain meds are making me read so slowly, tonight, but I am dragging my feet too. I can count. I know you said you thought about putting this into SSA, and I really think you ought. What errors I have seen have just been little piddly typos, and not many of those at all. )
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