"Are you sure that I look okay?"
"Joey, you look fantastic. C'mon, think about who dressed you. Who knows more about fashion than me?" Bruce chuckled and reached out towards Joe, gently brushing the imaginary dirt off of his shoulder. "Purple is your color. I've been telling you that for years."
Joe smiled a wide Cheshire grin and nodded towards the heavy office door that separated them from one of the numerous Wayne Enterprises boardrooms. "I gotta admit, Brucie, I never thought that a rat like me would end up at a fancy place like this. Dad wouldn't be able to wrap his fat head around the idea that me, loser boy Joe, would be a corporate man." The young man shivered with delight, or perhaps nervousness, and wrapped his coated arms around himself. "You sure I can do this, Brucie?" Joe asked softly, pulling at the collar of his royal purple dress shirt.
Bruce paused before answering, giving his hazel eyes an opportunity to look Joe over one last time. After four years of schooling and training, it was ludicrous to think that Joe was not capable of the position that Bruce had offered to him. Bruce found it endearing that Joe could not see it as clearly as he could.
"Joey, I don't see how you couldn't do it. You're perfect for this. Don't worry so much, all right? I'll take care of you." He grinned playfully and slapped Joe on the back, causing the smaller man to jump slightly. "C'mon, Joey. Everyone is waiting for you."
The boardroom was filled with suits about twice the age of either Bruce or Joe. Men with balding heads, waning libidos and a burning jealousy for Bruce and his playboy lifestyle. A twenty-seven year old genius/billionaire without the obligation of a wife and family to tie him down, running his own mega-corporation without anyone telling him what to do, ever? Yeah, you'd be feeling the flames of envy lick at your heels, too. The men were an unexciting mix of blacks and grays, dull colors to match even duller personalities. Bruce blew through the door with an energy that took over the room, invigorating all of the half asleep corporate junkies who were already cursing the fact that they had to stay and "work" past two o'clock in the afternoon. Joe followed behind Bruce closely, his speed an indication of nerves rather than confidence.
The twenty-something tycoon stopped at the head of the conference table where a small podium waited patiently. Bruce situated himself behind the podium and flashed a smile at the unresponsive crowd. "Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend this meeting. Don't worry, I promise this will be short and sweet." The old men forced chuckles out of their thin lips for the boss, but Bruce didn't care much. Their opinions of him and his little jokes were moot. "I would like to take the time to introduce to you gentlemen a new addition to the company. This wonderful man next to me," he placed his arm around Joe's shoulders, sending pleasurable shivers down the young man's spine, "is an alumni of Gotham University, top of his class. He has all the skills and intelligence we can possibly expect of a Wayne Enterprises employee, and I know that he will accomplish great things. So, gentlemen, I shall waste no more time in introducing our new head of public relations, Joseph Kerr!"
Bruce gently placed his hand on the small of Joe's back and pushed him in front of the podium as the men lacklusterly and reluctantly applauded for the young upstart that had taken a very well paid position that one of them was certainly more qualified for. Joe's light green eyes jutted down to the wringing hands in front of him, up to the many pairs of crow's feet-lined eyes. "I'd like to thank Mr Wayne for this amazing opportunity." His voice faltered for just a moment, as if the rest of his words had leaked from his brain and left Joe with nothing to say. After a second of silence he regained what little composure he had and continued. "Mr Wayne promised that this would be short so all I'll say is that I hope I can live up to everyone's expectations and do something extraordinary. Thank you, gentlemen. I'm proud to be a part of the W.E. team."
With a quick smile and nod, Joe moved away from the podium, whispering in Bruce's ear as he turned around. "Was that good, Bruce?"
"Beautiful, Joey," Bruce whispered back. "Just beautiful."
As Joe reveled in Bruce's praise, Bruce thanked and dismissed the men, waiting for their exits until taking Joe into his arm. "See, Joey? That wasn't so horrible, now was it? You're going to have to get used to talking to people. You're very charming when you want to be, you know?"
The smile that graced Joe's face at that moment would have appeared grotesque to anyone other than Bruce. The long scars on either corner of Joe's mouth gave the illusion of a never-fading smile, a grin that no tragedy could bring down. When Joe wasn't smiling the scars were nothing more than unfortunate imperfections on an otherwise handsome face. But when he smiled, the smile never stopped. Bruce didn't mind. There was something about those scars, something about the way Joey always smiled as wide as he could, as if he were laughing at those scars, laughing at the cruel father that gave them to him that made Bruce adore the younger man.
Stretching out a hand, Bruce let his fingers graze the left side of Joe's face, caressing the harsh mark on Joe's cheek. "How about I take you out on the town tonight, pretty boy? A little celebration dinner. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
Joe nodded his head fiercely, forcing his shaggy dirty blonde hair to fall across his face, covering his sparkling eyes. "Yes, yes! That sounds fucking awesome, I'd love to go out Bruce, love it. Where are we going? Downtown? I like downtown. Perhaps we could go to that fancy French place, or that Japanese place, I love that place, too. Or maybe we could--"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, tiger. We'll go wherever you want to go. As soon as you make up your mind, anyway. C'mon." Bruce led Joe outside of the boardroom and down the hallway towards the shiny silver elevators.
"After we go to dinner, where would you like to go, Mr Kerr?"
Joe blushed, his freckles almost disappearing in his bright red cheeks. "Oh, I don't know. I think that I would be perfectly happy to just go back to your place. We can figure out what to do from there. I mean, if that's okay with you. Actually, maybe we should go to the movies, or perhaps we don't even need to. I'm sure that you have a theater in your mansion, right? I know you do."
"Okay, back to my place it is. I'm sure that we'll manage to keep ourselves amused." Bruce chuckled as he and Joe walked outside of the skyscraper towards the limousine that waited for them.
BRIIIIIIIIIIIIING. BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.
"Hey, hold on, Joey," said Bruce, halting his motion to open the car door for Joe and reaching for his cell phone instead.
"Hello?"
- in this city -
His footsteps echoed down the hallways; the sounds simply pierced the cold silence. If there was one thing Clark hated about Lex's mansion, it was that the place just didn't feel like a home. Of course, he had a feeling Lex had never once felt at home to begin with. Clark couldn't really blame him, though. Lex was just a city boy after all. Born and bred city boy.
The youth pushed his shaggy black hair from his gleaming emerald eyes and turned the corner. To be honest, he wasn't really sure if Lex was in today, but the older boy had always told him that Clark pretty much had free reign of the mansion and therefore, should consider it as his "second home." Though, he was never quite certain how literal Lex was by that. Regardless of such qualms, he found his hand upon the brass door knob of one of the number of rooms in Lex's mansion.
It was locked. Well, that didn't make any sense. Lex never locked any doors. He just didn't. Not for Clark anyway. So, what was so secret and important that Lex had to keep hidden? Well, whatever it is, he was about to find out. Clark fiddled with the door knob a few minutes, considering how he should break into the room. Finally, he tucked in his elbow and pushed gently against the solid oak door. It creaked and groaned beneath his weight, finally breaking under Clark's great strength and gaining him entrance.
The room was lit with a neon blue. At least along the surrounding walls, otherwise, there hung two large lights over a few pedestals that filled the enclosure; something green gleamed within one of the pedestals near the far wall, making Clark feel slightly queasy. He eyed it with great animosity before moving on. A large screen began to flicker to his right, catching the boy's eyes. He felt his insides twist as he shuffled towards it. His feet felt heavy and the boy's palms began to sweat. Why did he feel so nervous? Perhaps it was just the stupid meteor rocks shining beneath the bright lights. Probably. Clark's long slender fingers reached out towards the screen. He blinked once... twice and one more to make sure he wasn't staring into an actual mirror. A fire erupted inside of Clark and before he could resist the temptation, he smashed his fist into his own picture. What was this all about? What about all those pacts and pretty little promises Lex had sprouted about stopping all those on-going investigations? Had they all been lies?
Clark wasn't sure whom he ought to be angry with: himself or Lex? Yes, Lex had obviously lied about calling off all those damn investigations, but then, he had been a fool to fall for the rich man's pretty little words. His dad was right. Everyone had been right about Lex. He was nothing more than a Luthor. For God's sake! Look at all the pictures and videos that filled this room. All containing his image, doing something or another; a video of him tending his cow, Bessy, in the pasture and the picture of his mom, dad and him standing in front of their booth in the Farmer's Market. It was all just weird!
Ugh! No! There had to be a reason for all of this. Besides the obvious, anyway. Lex. He sighed. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Where was he anyway? Using his x-ray vision, Clark searched the through the mansion floors. Although, all he could really see were fragmented images of the mansion's steel work, but he did recognize one skeleton. Lex's long time butler Enrique. If anyone (besides Clark, that is) knew Lex's whereabouts, it would be him. Utilizing his super speed, he ran to the downstairs kitchen.
"Where's Lex?" It wasn't really a question as much as it was a demand.
"Good afternoon, Mr Kent," replied Enrique.
Clark blushed. He was slightly ashamed of his unabashed behavior. "Sorry," he muttered avoiding the butler's eyes. "Do you happen to know where Lex is, Enrique?"
"Of course, Mr Kent. He's--" He checked his sterling silver pocket watch. "--boarding his jet to Gotham. He'll be away for approximately a week, sir. Would you like to leave a--"
The old man felt a sudden gust of wind as he removed his gaze from his watch to the boy... next to him? Where had he gone? With a knowing smirk, he gently pushed his watch back into the interior pocket of his suit jacket before shuffling to his work.
----------
Everything around him was simply a blur as he sped through cornfield after cornfield to the airport. It took no more than five minutes to reach the runway, despite the fact that it was nearly twelve miles away from the Luthor Mansion. Such distances were hardly a measure of despair. With his immense speed, he could easily get to Metropolis within ten to fifteen minutes flat. So, it was hardly alarming when Clark skidded to a halt just a few feet from the airport terminals. He easily towered over the people around him, giving him a fantastic view of the LuthorCorp jet boarding in the L3 terminal. He quickly pushed past the sea of people and was stopped by security before managing to reach the young Luthor scion.
"Lex!"
"Clark? Hold on, let him go! It's okay," he shouted to his bodyguard. They grunted in response but released the boy's arms nonetheless. "What's wrong, Clark? Are your parents okay?"
Clark bit down on his bottom lip, shuffled his feet and avoided the older boy's eyes for a good five minutes before replying. "I... I thought you said you had destroyed all the stuff you had collected about me. You told me you stopped all the ongoing investigations! YOU LIED TO ME!"
It was Lex's turn to bite down and make the muscles in his jaw twitch. Normally, he didn't mind Clark wandering around the mansion. What difference did it make? It was more his father's mansion than his own. So he told his staff to welcome the boy with open arms, but it was times such as these that he really, really hated how curious Clark had the tendency to be. Who was he to snoop around in his house? If a door is locked then chances are someone doesn't want you snooping around. "Look Clark, I didn't lie to you. I told you that I had stopped all those investigations and I did. All that stuff you saw were simply mementos of our past. The Porsche I had crashed the very day I met you is in there, too. It's not just about you! It's about me too. There's a reason why we met on the bridge that day. I know it! And the answer--"
"No! No, Lex. You told me you had that stuff destroyed and you lied. You're supposed to be my friend--"
"I am, Clark! Just listen to me." He knew Clark wouldn't understand. That's why he had the door completely sealed. Now, how the boy got in there in the first place was beyond Lex and it was due to Clark that all of this had started in the first place. If he would just tell Lex what it was he was constantly hiding then they wouldn't have these problems. All these excuses, lies and every single time Lex asked him about his "sudden disappearances" and how the boy manage to show up exactly the right time to save his life (although, Lex wasn't really complaining about that), all he would received would be one lie after another... but he could see it in the boy's eyes: a gleaming mistrust. Despite everything (and anything) Lex did, it was never enough. It probably never would be. "Actually, you know what, Clark? I'm done explaining myself to you. You'll never listen. You never do."
"Lex..."
There just wasn't a point in explaining anymore. Frankly, he was sick of it. He was sick of following the same good damn pattern every time Clark was upset with him. The boy would confront him with whatever issue, whine, rant and finally, he'd ignore Lex until he felt like he had punished the other boy enough. Bastard. No more child's play. "Goodbye, Clark. I'll see you when I get back."
Lex turned away and ascended the stairs into the plane. He could feel Clark's pouting lips and glossy emerald hues burn into the back of his head. No! Lex wouldn't look back. He couldn't. If he did, Lex knew he'd only rush back to Clark and tell him all those pretty words he knew the boy wanted to hear. Screw it! Clark needed to grow up, already.
The young Luthor heir settled into the thick cushioned leather seat and buckled himself in. Ah, Gotham. It certainly had been awhile since Lex had found himself in the depths of Gotham. The city brought him back to his younger years; years full of neon lights and all the heroin he could sniff through one nostril before his nose bled. Of course, that was all beyond him. Bruce had made sure of that. Oh! Speaking of Bruce... Lex pulled his sleek cell phone from the confines of his jacket.
"Hello?"
"Bruce? It's Lex. I'm half way to Gotham right now. Care to join me for dinner in--" He checked his silver and purple Rolex. "Approximately an hour? I know, it's short notice but I'm going to be in town soon. I thought it'd be a grand opportunity to catch up on things. If you're not too busy, that is."