"It is a perplexing question, sir." Mercy considered the two pictures on Lex's desk. "I guess it comes down to this. Do you want your heir to have brains or brawn?"
"Setting aside Superman's extra-human abilities, which may or may not be passed on, Batman is a better example of the human potential. With the exception of the middle child, his sons have turned into good soldiers." Lex considered the blurry photo of a myth. "But I don't need another soldier, do I?"
"And the thought of raising Superman's child in your own image is appealing to your nature, sir." Mercy let a little smile play on her face.
"There is that. I need someone to carry this child. I won't let some lab technologist take care of my future." Lex poured two glasses of Scotch and handed one to Mercy. "You're the only one I can trust, Mercy."
Mercy drank the scotch and let what he was asking settle in beside the burn. "I would be honored."
He refilled her glass, then his own. "I would ask you to step aside as the head of Security."
"Hope can handle it. She's ready." Mercy wasn't a stupid woman. She idolized Lex Luthor and he knew it. She'd do anything for him, anything he asked. If you had killed for a man, doing something so normal as carrying his child was a small thing. "Have you already obtained Superman's DNA?"
"I've had it for some time." When she didn't drink, Lex took the glass and drank it himself. "I'm not a good man, Mercy, but I'm not blind. I know how you feel about me. You're not objective."
"I'm not blind either, sir. I know how you feel about him. I'm not the only one who's lost their objectivity." Mercy reached back and unhooked the necklace she wore and dropped the steel tube on the desk. "My Kryptonite. It'll be a good gift for the matron of honor. Hope will need it if Superman finds out what we're doing."
"Superman's not our only problem. The public couldn't know. It would all have to look above board. I've been so overexposed to Kryptonite no one will blink if my child is born a meta." Lex reached across the desk and took her hand. "Would you like to get married?"
Mercy lifted their still joined hands to her lips and kissed the glove of his prosthetic hand. "I'd want a small ceremony. No circus. And I want to be your wife, not an incubator."
He slipped a hand out of her grasp and touched the scar on her collar bone, the scar she'd gotten when a former employee had tried to stab him during a stock holder's meeting. "I trust you with my life, Mercy."
Mercy, Hope and Faith. The three things Lex Luthor had always lacked, until he'd found them in the slums of Metropolis and made them his own. They'd served him with absolute unquestioning dedication. "I know."
"If you ever betray me, I'll kill you." He said the words in the same hushed tone he'd used just a minute before to ask if she'd wanted to get married.
"I know." Mercy dropped the cold false hand she'd been holding and drew the real one inside her blouse, down her chest, to the old bullet scar below her right breast. "I know you're the devil and you already have my soul. I would never betray you."
"You'll be a beautiful bride, Mercy." He slid his hand out of her shirt and caressed her face.
"I am your own forever," She murmured the last word against his lips as she leaned in to kiss him. "Lex."