Brothers & Heroes part 51
5/6/06 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyYes! Updatey like a muhf*ck. (i'm trying not to curse as much. does that work?)
Look! I can see the sails of the Good Ship "Wrapitup" on the horizon! Woo-hoo! Okay, previous bits are here, and
Lex became known as a ruthless and driven a businessman, not very different than Lionel Luthor at all.
The roots of the empire he began to build spread far and wide in the Metropolis underworld, it spread branches into every aspect of the city, it reached the very top. It infiltrated Lionel’s business, and ran side by side with Edge’s syndicate. Tendrils reached into the businesses of other tri-state ‘bosses’.
Along with his high profile activities came the scrutiny of the super heroes, who’d begun to unofficially work together, in order to exchange information and assistance. As Lex and his associates’ businesses grew, their activities forced the heroes into a loose organization to combat them.
With their combined efforts, they hit Lexcorp often and hard, but it was LuthorCorp they nearly brought to its knees, crippling the company and largely stripping Lionel of the influence he had in Metropolis. Lex enjoyed the irony of Lionel’s plans for him coming true—not in exactly the way Dad had planned no doubt, but he was Prince Of The City now. The Luthor name dominated Metropolis and even as deeply into the underworld as he was, Lex’s legitimate businesses were untouchable, rolling along and making money….
Through a combination of philanthropy and skillful publicity, people thought of Lex as a stand up guy, someone who’d created thousands of jobs when he ‘d invested in their port—his ships, his warehouses, his trucking company—they all provided jobs. Lex made sure that he was at every civic function possible, participated in charity events that Vic and he were in general, front and center at any Metropolis society event. He carefully cultivated his reputation of an honest businessman, and reaped the benefits.
*****
Henderson, Narcotics…oh, it’s you…you’re sure? All right… this morning…Silver Queen—got it. Heroin…it’ll be in what…cosmetics. Okay—hello? Hello?”
******
Lex sat at his desk and rolled the can of hairspray back and forth across the desktop. He frowned, opened the can and dumped out a small opaque balloon. He slit it carefully with a knife and white powder showed in the split. He shook his head. Morgan took a tremendous hit when that shipment was stopped. He was going to be furious—heads would definitely roll…word was his new enforcer was merciless….
Lex stood and tossed the small bag of heroin into the fireplace, waited until the flames caught and left the room. With this latest disaster, he could expect the various bosses to be jumpy, angry. He’d need to make sure that they didn’t rush to do something stupid and start a war he didn’t have the time for.
He was standing in the large outer office of LexCorp, arms crossed and facing the windows that looked out over the harbor. Sunlight glittered on the waves far out to sea, and he taught he saw an unusual movement over the waves, a blur. He assumed that one of the super-humans was watching him. He wondered which one, if they were from Gotham or Metropolis…
Sheila called out to him, “Lex, a Mr. Edge is on the line.” She managed to make her personal distaste for Edge known with just the tilt of her chin and the millimeter rise of her eyebrow.
He smirked and told her, “Transfer it to my private line, Sheila. And can you order lunch—Vic is coming to visit today.” His smirk slid into a genuine smile as she softened just a bit. She was a romantic, and loved to see the two of them together. Lex didn’t mind—whatever made Sheila happy--God knew, he’d be lost without her.
“Okay, Boss. I’ll have some flowers sent in too.”
He nodded. “Perfect, thanks, Sheila.”
She ignored him as he walked back into his office—he felt a little waft of air, and Sheila frowned when the papers in her outbox fluttered. “Darn air conditioning…” he heard her mutter. He didn’t bother to tell her to call building maintenance, Sheila would.
He groaned softly to himself and slid back into his desk chair and hoped the conversation would be neither too long nor too painful. “Luthor here.”
"Lex, my boy, how are you?”
“Fine, Morgan, and you? Now that pleasantries are out of the way, what can I help you with?”
"You’re going to be arrested, you know. The drugs came in on your ship, the anonymous tip was directed at you.”
“I’m not worried. I employ the best lawyers, men who are skilled at what they do. Men who have great incentive to be good at what they do.”
"So, you’ll have no need of my help…”
“I’ll see you later on this evening. I’m looking forward to poker with you and your friends tonight.”
"I look forward to it as well. Be sure to tell your father hello from me. I’ll have to visit him soon.”
“Oh, I’ll be certain to tell him. Until this evening,”
He hung up just as Vic came into the office.
She was frowning and sat on the edge of the desk. “Lex, no fucking around, tell me what you’re involved in and I want the mother-fucking truth.”
“Hello to you too, Vic.” He looked at her, thinking hard. They might have separate lives but he did owe her something. He should afford her the ability to protect herself in case everything fell apart. Vic deserved that from him. He stood and went to his office door, closing it. He turned on the television, set the volume loud, came over to her and wrapped his arms around her as if he wanted a kiss. She stiffened and he whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you everything. If you’re sure want to know.”
She hesitated, and then slowly raised her arms to hold him, and nodded.
“This is going to make you laugh,” he said.”
******
Lex’s testimony that he had no knowledge of the shipment managed to hold up, thanks to the army of highly motivated lawyers he employed…and the help of certain people inside the MPD. Several key players in Edge’s syndicate weren’t as fortunate. Someone had to take the fall after all. It happened—it was the price they all knew they might have to pay someday.
Lex left the courtroom with a carefully solemn expression, the expression of a simple man persecuted unjustly by the faceless juggernaught of politics. His mind was working over time as he looked into the lenses of a hundred cameras. Flash lit up the marble hall, bounced light over the crowd…and suddenly he had a strange feeling--
He had Vic on his arm and his lawyers and bodyguards surrounded him, he was probably safer here than anywhere else…still, the feeling crept over him.
People tried to get around his security to shake his hand, touch him, to shout encouragement. He was a favorite of the public, people believed that he was one of them; a guy concerned with his fellow man, a guy the government had it out for because of his unpopular opinions and willingness to offer real solutions to their problems.
Lex was feeling more and more uneasy, more on edge. The noise, the shouting, echoed in his ears, he was beginning to wilt under the press of the crowd and the heat. Vic smiled and slipped a tissue in his hand.
“You okay?” she whispered.
He dabbed at his lip and scanned the crowd and the uneasy feeling was back. “Never better,” he whispered in return. He smiled gravely and spoke to everyone who spoke to him, waved at the crowd as his entourage guided him to the exit and he felt it again—a strange uneasy, crawling sensation at the back of his neck. He snapped his head around and there....
Bruce was leaning against a pillar, arms folded and a deep frown on his face. Lex felt a sharp pain in his chest---a gasp broke free and Vic stopped, looked at him open mouthed, and color drained from her face.
“Jesus, Lex, what is it?”
“Bruce,” Lex gasped and staggered a step or two forward—and he was gone. “Son-of-a-bitch! Mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch!” He would have run in the direction that he’d seen Bruce but his men hustled him quickly from the hall, nervous at his reaction, shocked that he’d lost composure in public.
Lex was nearly faint with rage. How the fuck could Bruce came back and not say a damn word? How could he not tell him?
******
In the morning paper, an article in the business section made him angry—so angry that for a moment, he thought he’d go blind.
“Bruce Kent returns to take the reins of Kent Farms after taking a few years to tour Europe with his brother--"the rest of the article ended up as confetti on the breakfast table.
Vic raised an eyebrow when she came in. She tossed her coat over the back of a chair and set her purse down on the newsprint snowdrift, she lit a cigarette and waited with a calm smile while Lex poured her a cup of coffee.
“Really Lex…you need to take a more meditative view of the world…” She brushed aside the bits of paper and flicked her ashes in the saucer of her cup. “I see your little friends are back in town--”
“Shut the hell up, Vic, I’m not in the fucking mood, all right?” He jumped to his feet and stalked around the room. “Why the fuck would he ignore me? Why wouldn’t he come to see me the first thing? Clark and—and--"
“Maybe he reads the paper too, dear.” Vic lit a cigarette and blew a thick cloud of smoke over his head. He grimaced and swiped at the smoke. “After all, according to the Planet, it’s a good bet you are a mob boss, aren’t you? Criminal mastermind…blah, blah. Not exactly the kind of guy a person like Bruce would want to associate with.”
“Shut up,” he muttered. He walked over to the balcony and stared out through the glass doors. “I can’t believe Clark didn’t try to get in touch….”
Vic came up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Will it make you feel better if I told you some interesting gossip?” He was motionless for a long minute before shrugging. She sighed and said brightly, “Guess who’s getting souvenirs from Afghanistan?”
He laughed a little, and leaned his head back against hers and smiled. High in the dawn sky, he could see a brilliant streak of light flash over the skyline. They watched together as it fell towards the horizon.
tbc
Look! I can see the sails of the Good Ship "Wrapitup" on the horizon! Woo-hoo! Okay, previous bits are here, and
Lex became known as a ruthless and driven a businessman, not very different than Lionel Luthor at all.
The roots of the empire he began to build spread far and wide in the Metropolis underworld, it spread branches into every aspect of the city, it reached the very top. It infiltrated Lionel’s business, and ran side by side with Edge’s syndicate. Tendrils reached into the businesses of other tri-state ‘bosses’.
Along with his high profile activities came the scrutiny of the super heroes, who’d begun to unofficially work together, in order to exchange information and assistance. As Lex and his associates’ businesses grew, their activities forced the heroes into a loose organization to combat them.
With their combined efforts, they hit Lexcorp often and hard, but it was LuthorCorp they nearly brought to its knees, crippling the company and largely stripping Lionel of the influence he had in Metropolis. Lex enjoyed the irony of Lionel’s plans for him coming true—not in exactly the way Dad had planned no doubt, but he was Prince Of The City now. The Luthor name dominated Metropolis and even as deeply into the underworld as he was, Lex’s legitimate businesses were untouchable, rolling along and making money….
Through a combination of philanthropy and skillful publicity, people thought of Lex as a stand up guy, someone who’d created thousands of jobs when he ‘d invested in their port—his ships, his warehouses, his trucking company—they all provided jobs. Lex made sure that he was at every civic function possible, participated in charity events that Vic and he were in general, front and center at any Metropolis society event. He carefully cultivated his reputation of an honest businessman, and reaped the benefits.
*****
Henderson, Narcotics…oh, it’s you…you’re sure? All right… this morning…Silver Queen—got it. Heroin…it’ll be in what…cosmetics. Okay—hello? Hello?”
******
Lex sat at his desk and rolled the can of hairspray back and forth across the desktop. He frowned, opened the can and dumped out a small opaque balloon. He slit it carefully with a knife and white powder showed in the split. He shook his head. Morgan took a tremendous hit when that shipment was stopped. He was going to be furious—heads would definitely roll…word was his new enforcer was merciless….
Lex stood and tossed the small bag of heroin into the fireplace, waited until the flames caught and left the room. With this latest disaster, he could expect the various bosses to be jumpy, angry. He’d need to make sure that they didn’t rush to do something stupid and start a war he didn’t have the time for.
He was standing in the large outer office of LexCorp, arms crossed and facing the windows that looked out over the harbor. Sunlight glittered on the waves far out to sea, and he taught he saw an unusual movement over the waves, a blur. He assumed that one of the super-humans was watching him. He wondered which one, if they were from Gotham or Metropolis…
Sheila called out to him, “Lex, a Mr. Edge is on the line.” She managed to make her personal distaste for Edge known with just the tilt of her chin and the millimeter rise of her eyebrow.
He smirked and told her, “Transfer it to my private line, Sheila. And can you order lunch—Vic is coming to visit today.” His smirk slid into a genuine smile as she softened just a bit. She was a romantic, and loved to see the two of them together. Lex didn’t mind—whatever made Sheila happy--God knew, he’d be lost without her.
“Okay, Boss. I’ll have some flowers sent in too.”
He nodded. “Perfect, thanks, Sheila.”
She ignored him as he walked back into his office—he felt a little waft of air, and Sheila frowned when the papers in her outbox fluttered. “Darn air conditioning…” he heard her mutter. He didn’t bother to tell her to call building maintenance, Sheila would.
He groaned softly to himself and slid back into his desk chair and hoped the conversation would be neither too long nor too painful. “Luthor here.”
"Lex, my boy, how are you?”
“Fine, Morgan, and you? Now that pleasantries are out of the way, what can I help you with?”
"You’re going to be arrested, you know. The drugs came in on your ship, the anonymous tip was directed at you.”
“I’m not worried. I employ the best lawyers, men who are skilled at what they do. Men who have great incentive to be good at what they do.”
"So, you’ll have no need of my help…”
“I’ll see you later on this evening. I’m looking forward to poker with you and your friends tonight.”
"I look forward to it as well. Be sure to tell your father hello from me. I’ll have to visit him soon.”
“Oh, I’ll be certain to tell him. Until this evening,”
He hung up just as Vic came into the office.
She was frowning and sat on the edge of the desk. “Lex, no fucking around, tell me what you’re involved in and I want the mother-fucking truth.”
“Hello to you too, Vic.” He looked at her, thinking hard. They might have separate lives but he did owe her something. He should afford her the ability to protect herself in case everything fell apart. Vic deserved that from him. He stood and went to his office door, closing it. He turned on the television, set the volume loud, came over to her and wrapped his arms around her as if he wanted a kiss. She stiffened and he whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you everything. If you’re sure want to know.”
She hesitated, and then slowly raised her arms to hold him, and nodded.
“This is going to make you laugh,” he said.”
******
Lex’s testimony that he had no knowledge of the shipment managed to hold up, thanks to the army of highly motivated lawyers he employed…and the help of certain people inside the MPD. Several key players in Edge’s syndicate weren’t as fortunate. Someone had to take the fall after all. It happened—it was the price they all knew they might have to pay someday.
Lex left the courtroom with a carefully solemn expression, the expression of a simple man persecuted unjustly by the faceless juggernaught of politics. His mind was working over time as he looked into the lenses of a hundred cameras. Flash lit up the marble hall, bounced light over the crowd…and suddenly he had a strange feeling--
He had Vic on his arm and his lawyers and bodyguards surrounded him, he was probably safer here than anywhere else…still, the feeling crept over him.
People tried to get around his security to shake his hand, touch him, to shout encouragement. He was a favorite of the public, people believed that he was one of them; a guy concerned with his fellow man, a guy the government had it out for because of his unpopular opinions and willingness to offer real solutions to their problems.
Lex was feeling more and more uneasy, more on edge. The noise, the shouting, echoed in his ears, he was beginning to wilt under the press of the crowd and the heat. Vic smiled and slipped a tissue in his hand.
“You okay?” she whispered.
He dabbed at his lip and scanned the crowd and the uneasy feeling was back. “Never better,” he whispered in return. He smiled gravely and spoke to everyone who spoke to him, waved at the crowd as his entourage guided him to the exit and he felt it again—a strange uneasy, crawling sensation at the back of his neck. He snapped his head around and there....
Bruce was leaning against a pillar, arms folded and a deep frown on his face. Lex felt a sharp pain in his chest---a gasp broke free and Vic stopped, looked at him open mouthed, and color drained from her face.
“Jesus, Lex, what is it?”
“Bruce,” Lex gasped and staggered a step or two forward—and he was gone. “Son-of-a-bitch! Mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch!” He would have run in the direction that he’d seen Bruce but his men hustled him quickly from the hall, nervous at his reaction, shocked that he’d lost composure in public.
Lex was nearly faint with rage. How the fuck could Bruce came back and not say a damn word? How could he not tell him?
******
In the morning paper, an article in the business section made him angry—so angry that for a moment, he thought he’d go blind.
“Bruce Kent returns to take the reins of Kent Farms after taking a few years to tour Europe with his brother--"the rest of the article ended up as confetti on the breakfast table.
Vic raised an eyebrow when she came in. She tossed her coat over the back of a chair and set her purse down on the newsprint snowdrift, she lit a cigarette and waited with a calm smile while Lex poured her a cup of coffee.
“Really Lex…you need to take a more meditative view of the world…” She brushed aside the bits of paper and flicked her ashes in the saucer of her cup. “I see your little friends are back in town--”
“Shut the hell up, Vic, I’m not in the fucking mood, all right?” He jumped to his feet and stalked around the room. “Why the fuck would he ignore me? Why wouldn’t he come to see me the first thing? Clark and—and--"
“Maybe he reads the paper too, dear.” Vic lit a cigarette and blew a thick cloud of smoke over his head. He grimaced and swiped at the smoke. “After all, according to the Planet, it’s a good bet you are a mob boss, aren’t you? Criminal mastermind…blah, blah. Not exactly the kind of guy a person like Bruce would want to associate with.”
“Shut up,” he muttered. He walked over to the balcony and stared out through the glass doors. “I can’t believe Clark didn’t try to get in touch….”
Vic came up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Will it make you feel better if I told you some interesting gossip?” He was motionless for a long minute before shrugging. She sighed and said brightly, “Guess who’s getting souvenirs from Afghanistan?”
He laughed a little, and leaned his head back against hers and smiled. High in the dawn sky, he could see a brilliant streak of light flash over the skyline. They watched together as it fell towards the horizon.
tbc
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(no subject)
8/30/06 04:55 am (UTC)Love that you make Lex look so tarnished, and yet he's still the young man that got left behind, isn't he? Else, why get so angry at Bruce?
And is his dealing with the 'underworld' why Clark and Bruce have not come near? Maybe so, maybe so.
And the ambiguity at the end. Who is it that he's laughing about? Lionel? Edge? Bruce? (Boggles at the last one.)
Want Vic to come away from all this, tall and proud and sarcastic, but she's not going to, is she? Poor thing.