Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the canon they are based off of.
No One But You
Lex paced alone in his office, waiting for Mercy. They were going to a senator's birthday party to do some lobbying. She usually didn't take this long, and waiting around made him anxious. He never spent much time dressing up. It wasn't in his personality, in addition to being part of his persona: the wolf in sheep's clothing. For this evening, he'd thrown on a white suit and a sky-blue shirt with white polka dots.
He stopped in front of the desk, picked up a glass faceted paper-weight, and turned it over in his hand. It was a cheap lump of a thing. Mercy bought it for him two weeks ago. He'd had a bad day and shattered the previous one, which belonged to his father. She sat with him and held him gently by the shoulders till he stopped shaking. They didn't speak of the incident again, but she came in one day and wordlessly laid the box containing the new one on his desk. He didn't care about pretty objects. He liked it, though, since it came from Mercy.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw the double doors open. He set the paper-weight down and spun to face them.
"It's about time –" he trailed off.
Mercy stood in the doorway, wearing a slim, light blue cocktail dress that ended just above her knees. She was wearing contacts and mascara, which wasn't unusual when they went out, but she also had on a subtle dark blue eye shadow. After a second of taking her in, he smirked.
"My, my, Mercy, who are you dressed up for tonight?"
She folded her hands in front of her.
"Myself."
He chuckled under his breath, pushed his hands into his pockets, and walked towards her. Her eyes followed his approach, but there was no fear in them.
"Oh, I know, I know. It's just a joke."
He stopped beside her.
"Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the hallway.
"Yes, Sir."
'''''''''''''''''
The club was filled with affluent people, several of whom Lex had dealings with in the past. He practically owned some of them, though not all of them knew it.
After giving the host their well-wishes, they meandered around until they located their target. Her name was Margaret Peters, and she was a senator from Illinois. Lex needed her to oppose a bill that wasn't conducive to his business interests. She looked like a grandma, with her round face and curly, fading hair, but she was just as ambitious as any of the younger politicians. They spotted her talking with two fellow congressmembers.
"Senator Peters!" Lex said, interrupting their conversation.
She looked around.
"Ah, Mr. Luthor! How are you?"
"Good, good," he said as he shook her hand, "How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you. Have you met Mr. Chain and Mr. Galloway?"
"Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen. And, this is my assistant, Mercy."
He gestured to her, and she smiled and nodded politely.
"We were just discussing the trade deal with Qatar," Peters said, "Perhaps you could provide some insight?"
"Oh, of course!"
At Galloway's suggestion, they found a booth to sit down in. It was a half-circle and had white cushions and a black, glass table. Lex sat down across from Peters, and Mercy began to move away.
"Mercy," Lex said, looking up at her, "Where are you going? Come sit with us."
He patted the cushion to his right. He had never invited her to stay when he was working. She always gave him his space. But, if he wanted her to stay, then his wish was her command.
Lex did his usual drill: joking around, talking about business, occasionally hinting at his true intentions while keeping it vague enough that his audience didn't become nervous. Mercy listened and watched carefully. He was a master of subtlety and manipulation, and she valued the opportunity to learn from the best.
Eventually, the men were drawn back to the party, leaving Peters alone. Now that they had privacy, Lex brought up the bill. Peters recoiled a tiny bit when she realized what he wanted her to do, but like most of the others, she came around to the idea.
Suddenly, Mercy felt something touch her leg. She glanced down and saw it was the back of Lex's hand. She looked at him. He was still focused on Peters. She figured it was meant to be a message or instructions of some kind. Maybe he wanted her to leave?
Before she could act, his hand moved again. This time, his index finger brushed against her skin. She felt a flutter in her gut and glanced at him again. Still, his face gave nothing away. Peters didn't seem to notice anything. She looked down at his pale, slender hand. He reached out again with his finger and stroked down slowly, teasingly. There was no mistaking what that meant.
She didn't know what to think. Yes, she liked him, but he was her boss. They both knew there was something between them. Mercy was hard to read, but Lex was exceptionally perceptive. He noticed her fascination with him; how she hung on his every word. She also knew that he found her attractive and was closer to her than anyone else he had ever known. But they had always maintained the line of professionalism. As strange as it was, however, she couldn't deny that she enjoyed this kind of attention from him.
"Perhaps, we should talk somewhere a bit more private, Mr. Luthor," Peters said.
"I agree," he said perkily.
He started getting up, and Mercy began sliding out of the booth to let him out, but he put his hand on her knee.
"Don't bother yourself, Mercy," he said with a smile, but she saw a glint of mischief in his eye.
He pushed off of her knee as he stood up and stepped around her, and she watched him saunter off with Peters. She sat there for a couple minutes, scrolling through her phone, then she got up and went to the bar. She ordered a martini and leaned against the counter.
"Excuse me," a man said.
She looked around and saw a tall man in a sleek black suit approaching her. He looked around 30 years old, and he had black hair and a short black beard.
"Have we met before?"
She glanced over him again.
"I don't think so, no."
"Ah. Maybe a trick of the mind, then. Or, a glance across a crowded room. Maybe your name will jog my memory."
She wasn't in the habit of handing out her name, but she was here with Lex, and she was on the list, so it was safe.
"Mercy Graves," she said.
"Hm. Mercy Graves…Doesn't ring a bell, sorry. I'm Michael Tarbaum, by the way."
He offered his hand, and she shook it.
"Nice to meet you," she said.
"The pleasure's all mine. So, Ms. Graves, are you in the same line of work as our host?"
"No. I'm an assistant."
He waited for her to expand, but she didn't, so he laughed awkwardly and asked, "Uh, in an office, or…?"
"I work for Mr. Lex Luthor."
He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, Lex! I've met him before; maybe that's where I saw you."
She nodded.
"And what do you do for a living, Mr. Tarbaum?"
"I own a casino."
As she was nodding, however, he added, "Just kidding. I'm actually a professor."
She raised her eyebrows dubiously. He chuckled.
"I know, but it's true. I teach Controversial Art at St. Matthew's."
"It sounds very interesting."
"Oh, it is. It's a little bit of philosophy, sociology, history, anthropology. There's something for everybody."
"Except people who like math."
He laughed.
"Yes, unfortunately. Nothing's perfect."
She felt like making conversation, so she asked him about his course, and he happily told her all about it. They sat at the bar and talked for several minutes. He was obviously flirting with her, and even though she didn't have any plans to do anything with him, she was having fun. She was no stranger to the attentions of men, and she also wasn't a stranger to indulging herself in them. Considering what was going on with Lex recently, however, she didn't think she would be doing that anytime soon.
"I'd like to get to know you better," he said in a low voice.
She smiled and sipped her martini.
"I don't know. I'm very busy."
"Oh, I'm sure we could arrange something," he said and placed his hand on her knee.
The smile fell from her lips instantly. She grabbed his wrist and wrenched his hand away, making him cry out in pain and surprise. She tightened her grip till he was squirming and wore a pitiful, panicked expression.
"Don't ever do that," she said in a level, but threatening tone, "You should have better manners."
"Excuse me," Lex said from behind her.
She whipped her head around. His expression was cruelly amused, but she could see the fury teeming below the surface.
"I don't mean to interrupt you, Mercy, but it's time to go."
She didn't move right away. Tarbaum gritted his teeth at Lex.
"Tell her to let go of me, will ya?" he hissed, clearly trying to avoid calling attention from the other guests.
Lex's head snapped to look at him.
"Hello, Michael. How's your casino going?"
Mercy narrowed her eyes.
"What did he tell you, that he was a college professor? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Honestly, Michael, if you want to be an academic so badly, why don't you just give up the money laundering and go back to school?"
Tarbaum jumped off the stool, knocking it over in the process, and tried to wrench his arm free. Mercy shifted only slightly on her seat.
"You're gonna break my wrist!" he hissed.
She glanced at Lex. His eyes were trained on her vise-like grip, and a look of cruel pleasure was on his face. She was enjoying it, too. Finally, she let go, and Tarbaum gasped and stumbled away. She slid off her stool and calmly finished her drink. Lex silently paid her tab, then shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the exit. As she drew up beside him, she reached out and held him by the arm. He didn't protest. They walked out of the party looking, she thought, like the most bosom of companions.