The Battle of the Billionaires

Written by J.C. Vascardi

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Disclaimer: All characters and places featured in this story that relate to Harry Potter or Smallville are the property of their respective creators. I am not profiting from this story and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The only things about this story that I own are the storylines, places, and characters that are not featured in the officially licensed material, whether it be television, films, books, etc.

Summary: By the year 2015, Harry Potter has been living in the US for ten years and is very surprised when he notices the striking resemblance between himself and Clark Kent-Queen, the husband of billionaire Oliver Queen, who has decided to run against fellow billionaire Lex Luthor for President of the United States in the 2016 elections.

Main Pairings: Clark Kent/Oliver Queen, Harry Potter/Seamus Finnigan

Other Pairings: Landon Lang/Whitney Fordman/Jason Teague

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Slash, Violence, Language, Politics, Religion, M/M Sex, M/M/M Sex, Character Death, Mpreg, Male Lana Lang

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Chapter One

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Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was the Tenth of May 1980 and Albus had just had a very disturbing meeting with James Potter.

"The baby is dead, Albus," James said and Albus could tell that it was taking everything in the young man not to burst into tears.

"Dead? What do you mean dead? How?"

"Lily insisted on helping me get ready for the move," James answered. "You know how strong-willed she is when she wants to do something."

"So I'd noticed."

"Well, she was carrying a box of stuffed animals that we'd bought for the nursery down the stairs," James said. "I made sure that she wasn't carrying anything heavy, but…"

Albus closed his eyes and sighed. He had a feeling he knew what had happened, but as much as he didn't want to hear it, he prompted, "You mean she?"

James nodded. "One of the stuffed animals fell out of the box as she was going down the stairs… she didn't notice and tripped on it." Albus could see the tears glistening in the corners of his former students' eyes, as he added, "She fell down the stairs, Albus… she… she landed on her stomach."

"Oh James I'm so sorry," Albus said, as tears formed in his own eyes. "When I suggested that you go into hiding, I never thought that something like this would happen."

"I know, Albus," James said. "It's not your fault. It was an accident. You couldn't possibly have known."

Despite the fact that James didn't hold him responsible, Albus still felt that if it wasn't for his suggestion, Lily would not have fallen and miscarried her baby. 'Damn prophecy,' Albus thought, as he once again cursed the thrice-damned prophecy that Sibyl Trelawney had delivered that night just a few weeks before in the Hog's Head Inn. Albus had been only moments away from concluding that Sibyl didn't possess her ancestor's gift of sight. He'd planned on politely refusing Sibyl's request for a job and telling her that the position of Professor of Divination at Hogwarts was no longer available since he was discontinuing the class.

Apparently, however, someone, somewhere felt that would be a mistake, because just as he was about to open his mouth, Sibyl's eyes glazed over and she started speaking in a voice that was very different from her normal tone.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Albus sighed. There was nothing he could do now. He'd figured that knowing Tom, he'd choose the baby that was a halfblood like him, as he'd view that child as the bigger threat. Unfortunately, now that child was dead and no longer an option. Albus knew that left one other child that fit the criteria laid out in the prophecy. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to tell Frank and Alice, because he knew that Augusta would fight him tooth and nail on the idea of her son and daughter-in-law going into hiding like cowards and Frank tended to listen to his mother's advice far too often in Albus's opinion.

-o-0-o-

A war-weary Albus Dumbledore, who'd seemingly aged a hundred years in the last seven, sat down heavily at his desk at Hogwarts. Augusta Longbottom had shocked Albus to the core when she didn't fight against the idea of Frank and Alice going into hiding under the Fidelius. In fact, she whole-heartedly supported the idea. Unfortunately, she insisted on being the Secret Keeper and convinced Frank and Alice to move their family, including her, to Australia. Albus hadn't seen any of them since they'd come to Hogwarts to tell him their decision that day in early August 1980—nearly seven years ago now.

With no child available to fit the criteria of the prophecy, nobody was around to stop Tom and he opted not to extend his search for the child outside of the borders of the United Kingdom. He apparently felt that even if there was a child out there, it wouldn't matter if he solidified his hold on England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, as he would then surely be powerful enough that it would no longer matter what some batty old seer said.

Unfortunately for the British Isles, that was proving to be true. The Ministry for Magic had fallen under Voldemort's complete control in 1982 and rather than install a puppet, Voldemort decided to name himself as Minister for Magic. Not long after this, Hogwarts stopped operating as a school, as the Ministry's funding was cut off. Without Ministry funding and the student body shrinking every year, either due to deaths or parents packing up their children and fleeing the country, the tuition, which hadn't been raised in well over a hundred years, wasn't able to keep up with the costs of keeping the school open. Thus the once proud Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was no more as there was barely enough money left in the accounts to buy quills and ink, let alone pay the professors' salaries, and any of the numerous other things that were not free. The building was still standing thanks to the ancient wards set by the founders and Dumbledore used the Elder Wand almost daily to reinforce them, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

Dumbledore sighed, as he picked up the report on his desk and started reading. His eyes were bulging by the time he was finished. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had raided London. 15,000 dead, including the Prime Minister, the Queen, and most of her immediate family. Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Westminster both smoking ruins. Fiendfyre raging unchecked through the streets of London. And the Ministry under Voldemort control was doing nothing to keep from breaching the Statute of Secrecy. At this rate, it wouldn't be long until the existence of the Wizarding World would be revealed because without the Ministry Obliviators doing their jobs, it simply wasn't possible to convince the Muggles that the fires and explosions had been caused by gas leaks or other mundane causes. Not with magical fires in the shapes of serpents and dragons and other creatures rampaging unchecked through the streets and not going out no matter how much water the Muggle firefighters tried to douse them with.

"Oh bloody Merlin's fucking arse," Dumbledore said as he finished reading the report. To say that the war wasn't going well for the light side would be the understatement to end all understatements. Hogwarts was quickly becoming the very last bastion of the light and it wouldn't be long until it too fell and then Voldemort would reign supreme in the British Isles and be free to begin his move to continental Europe.

"This can't be allowed to continue," Dumbledore said, as he slumped in his chair and rested his bare chin on the palm of his hand. His long gray hair and beard had disappeared years ago, partly due to stress and failing health but also because he'd literally begun pulling his hair out in frustration as Voldemort racked up victory after victory and the Order of the Phoenix and anyone else trying their best to fight again him continued racking up devastating loss after loss.

"I guess it's time for drastic measures," Dumbledore finally said as he stood from his chair, grabbed his research notes and headed out of his office. Half-an-hour later, Albus emerged at the top of the Astronomy Tower and consulting his notes one final time to make sure the details were fresh in his mind, he raised the Elder Wand and prepared to cast a spell that would create a magical distortion field that would be weaved into the atmosphere of the planet and be both undetectable and irremovable until its purpose was achieved.

With the spells cast, an exhausted Dumbledore, who even with the power of the Elder Wand had nearly drained his magical core casting the necessary spells, swayed on his feet as he said, "If Dr. Swann is correct it'll be two more years until the Traveler arrives, at which point I'll probably be dead and Voldemort will be well on his way to conquering most of Europe. But hopefully this will work and this reality won't come to pass."

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A little over two years later, in October of 1989, several meteors of varying sizes and a small spaceship entered Earth's atmosphere bound for the small farming town of Smallville, Kansas. Moments after entering the atmosphere, however, both the meteors and the ship glowed bright white as they passed through the distortion field that had been placed there by the late Albus Dumbledore, who'd died only three days after he'd cast the spell and Hogwarts fell to Voldemort. The Dark Lord now controlled all of the British Isles and most of Western Europe and had begun moving towards the Balkans.

With magic revealed and Voldemort and the Death Eaters using a powerful spell to destroy any advantage that the Muggles' technology granted, essentially setting them back to Medieval times, nobody was able to stand against Voldemort, who was now no longer simply Lord Voldemort, but Emperor Voldemort, who now had absolute rule over one of the largest empires the world had ever known, with the possible exception of the ancient Roman Empire. With the capture of the Balkans and beyond that Anatolia now an almost certainly, however, hope was quickly fading that there was anything that could prevent Voldemort from becoming the undisputed Emperor of Earth.

Within moments both the meteors and the spaceship doubled. Dumbledore hadn't planned on that happening, but it happened nonetheless, so as the portal through time opened, the original meteors and ship continued on their way towards Smallville, while the copies passed through the portal to be sent back in time to the Thirty-First of July 1980.

As the portal closed, Fawkes, who'd been freely wandering the world after Dumbledore's death, disappeared in a flash as he flashed into the past. Most people were unaware of the fact that phoenixes could travel through time, but that was because phoenixes were rare to begin with and they also rarely did travel through time since every time they did it, it weakened their ability to regenerate.

Fawkes knew that this trip would be his last as going back over a decade at once would drain away the last of his regenerative abilities and the next time he died it would be for the final time, but he was doing this anyway, as his former master had entrusted him with a missive of vital importance and he was going to deliver it no matter what the consequences. It was comforting to know that this time travel would not affect the version of himself that existed in the past, as for that Fawkes, this trip had never happened.

Moments later, in the Headmaster's Office back in 1980, Albus Dumbledore's eyes widened as a phoenix flashed into the room. Turning his head to the side, he shared a confused look with the Fawkes of 1980, who was sitting on his perch. As the scarlet time-traveling bird landed on Dumbledore's desk, the aged Headmaster's eyes widened as he asked, "Fawkes? Is that you?"

The bird on the desk nodded its head to indicate that yes, it was.

"So, you've traveled from the future, I assume?" Dumbledore asked and the 1989 Fawkes nodded, as the one on the perch began singing a rather mournful song. Pulling out the Elder Wand, Dumbledore scanned the bird perched on his desk and sighed. "You've used up the last of your magic to come here so it must be very important."

Fawkes nodded as a scroll appeared in his beak. Dumbledore took it, unrolled it and began to read the missive from his future self. He was horrified by what he read about Voldemort's actions, but he wasn't surprised. Nor was he surprised about the Longbottoms fleeing the country as they'd done that just a month ago. As he read over the details of the contingency plan that his future incarnation had put into place, he thought it was rather marvelous, if unexpected. It seems he'd covered all the bases. A magical distortion field blanketing the planet, woven with a time portal that would be activated after the desired object passed through it.

"Well, I guess I should go then," Dumbledore said. "I have to neutralize the radioactive effects of the meteor rocks and make sure that James and Lily Potter are in the right place at the right time in order to find their new son."

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Dumbledore had been prepared for an uphill battle in convincing James and Lily to go to the farm field in Northern England, but they were willing to do so. Moments after the three of them appeared in the field, Lily and James shielded their eyes as the flaming meteor rocks began raining down and Dumbledore cast a powerful shield to protect them, before casting the necessary spell to neutralize the rocks' radioactive properties. Not long afterward, a small spaceship crashed into the dirt about a hundred feet from where the three onlookers stood and skidded across the ground, creating a deep ditch behind it, before it finally came to a stop.

Hurrying across the field and approaching the ship, James and Lily gasped as it opened and they could see what appeared to be a nearly three-year-old boy lying inside. He was completely naked with the exception of the blanket he'd been wrapped in and it was clear that the blanket had actually been for a baby who was much smaller than the boy now was. Of course, from what he'd read, Dumbledore knew that this boy's home planet had been destroyed a little over two years ago and his ship was just now arriving, so when his biological parents had placed him in the ship, he'd been only a few months old and the blanket had been more than large enough for him then.

Picking up the child in her arms, Lily held the little boy close, as James picked up the small blanket. Enlarging it with his wand, James then transfigured it into a set of clothes which would do for the time being until they could get the little boy home.

"What are we going to do with the ship?" James asked, as Lily knelt down and balanced the boy in her lap as she dressed him.

"I'll take care of that, James," Dumbledore said. "You just get your son to your house and I'll be there in an hour to help with the blood adoption ritual. I know this boy can never replace the child you lost, but now at least you'll have one. I do fear that Voldemort will come after you, so you'll still have to go into hiding, but let's hope that it's only temporary."

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Thirty-five years later, Harrison James Potter, the blood-adopted son of James and Lily Potter, awoke in his bed at his home in Salem, Massachusetts. He'd moved to Salem in 2003, a couple of months after he and his new husband had left England on their honeymoon. Harry hadn't realized until he'd actually left the British Isles just how many bad memories they held for him and how those memories were affecting his overall mood. His husband, however, noticed the change and commented on it. The resulting discussion ended with the decision that they would move to the colonies and get a fresh start.

Thus it was that Harry Potter, his husband and former housemate, Seamus, their adopted son Kieran, Harry's godson Teddy, and Teddy's grandmother Andromeda moved to the United States. Purchasing a nice home on a quiet cul-de-sac in the muggle section of Salem, the family began settling in. With the aid of magic, Andromeda, who'd been a very successful solicitor back home, began studying the differences between UK and US law, in addition to the differences between muggle and magical law, as she was determined to make herself a useful member of the household and that meant learning everything she'd need to know in order to obtain the license to practice law in the United States.

Kieran Potter, who was nine at the time of the move, had been an orphan of the Second Wizarding War. After defeating Voldemort, Harry began to underwrite several orphanages in an attempt to aid the children who'd lost their families to the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, to Harry's frustration, he seemed to be in a minority in terms of caring about the plight of the orphans who were now stuck in overcrowded facilities with little or no hope of being adopted. Volunteering frequently, Harry met Kieran and fell in love with the little boy. Because of that and hoping that the Savior of Wizarding Britain adopting a child would spur on the masses, Harry adopted the then five-year-old Kieran in 1999. This was followed, as Harry had hoped, by a mad dash by the wizarding public to adopt in such numbers that soon the orphanages were empty and potential parents ended up on waiting lists.

'At least my damn fame is good for something,' Harry had thought at the time.

Four years later when Harry and Seamus got married, Harry considered the idea of taking Seamus's last name, hoping that perhaps if Harry Potter ceased to exist that he'd be able to fade into anonymity. It was his friend Hermione, however, who convinced him that would not happen, no matter how much he might want it to. His face was too well known, not to mention his scar, and thus unless he planned to wear Glamour Charms for the rest of his life or become a reclusive shut-in, him taking his husband's surname wouldn't really do him any good.

Now, in the year 2015, Harry was in his tenth year teaching Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts to the fifth through seventh year students at the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Seamus was also in his tenth year of teaching, although he was the Introductory Charms professor and taught the first through third year classes. Kieran, meanwhile, now twenty-one years old, had graduated from Ilvermorny and was now a professional Quidditch player for the Salem Sorcerers. Seventeen-year-old Teddy Lupin was in his final year at Ilvermorny and Andromeda was a very successful lawyer in both the muggle and magical worlds.

Of course, the Potter family had gotten bigger since the move to Salem, as Seamus had gotten pregnant on his and Harry's wedding night and thus nine months later, Finnigan Potter was born. Now eleven years old, Finnigan, or Finn as he preferred to be called, was in his final year at the Salem Institute of Magic, which was a magical primary school that young witches and wizards in the United States attended before starting at Ilvermorny when they were eleven. Thus Finn was slated to start at Ilvermorny in the fall, much to the displeasure of his little sister, nine-year-old Lily Potter, whom Harry had carried, as she was upset that she was going to be all alone at Salem Institute come fall, since Finn would no longer be going to school with her.

"Morning, honey," Seamus said, as he cuddled up to Harry's left side and placed a kiss on his temple. Despite their early attempts to hang onto them, both Harry and Seamus had over the course of the last eleven years lost their accents. If they really put an effort into it, they could still use them, but for the most part they didn't feel it was necessary and thus both now spoke in a much more American idiom and tone of voice. They were living in America, after all, and they were thus surrounded by Americans, so they both figured that the old adage 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do,' applied.

"Morning," Harry said with a smile, as he turned his head and tried to kiss Seamus on the lips.

Seamus, however, quickly turned his head so that Harry's kiss landed on his cheek. He then raised an eyebrow at Harry and said, "Ah, ah, not until you brush."

"Oh come on, Shay, my breath isn't that bad."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Harry, you know I love you, but you saying that your morning breath doesn't smell bad is about the equivalent of saying that rotten eggs smell like roses. Both are lies."

"Oh fine, let's get up and head into the bathroom then shall we?" Harry asked, as he playfully nipped at Seamus's nose. "But just so you know once we're both minty fresh, you're going to be flat against the tiles of the shower, while I claim your arse."

Seamus grinned. "Promises, promises."

-o-0-o-

Meanwhile, across the ocean in Paris, France, twenty-eight-year-old Clark Kent-Queen awoke in one of the four bedrooms of the Royal Suite at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée. It was the second week of May of 2015 and following their wedding seven days ago, Oliver had whisked Clark off on their honeymoon, although Oliver kept where they were going a secret. Clark had tried everything he could think of in order to get Oliver to tell him where they were going, but the blond billionaire showed a remarkable level of restraint in holding firm and not giving in to Clark's attempts. Even though he'd known it was probably futile, Clark had even tried to get both the flight attendant and the pilot of the Queen Industries private jet to tell him where they were going. Of course, as he'd expected they kept their mouths shut, since Oliver had told them not to tell Clark.

When they were still in the air about a half-hour flight away from their destination, Oliver then went so far as to put a pendant around Clark's neck which held a blue kryptonite stone that would block all of his powers until it was removed. Clark would have been upset by this, but in all honesty he'd gotten used to wearing it from time to time over the last four years as he'd worn it on several occasions while Oliver was the Governor of California for one term.

While they weren't married during Oliver's term, the blond had made no attempts to hide the fact that he and Clark were a couple and thus Clark had appeared in public on Oliver's arm on several occasions. During those times, Clark often wore the pendant in order to temporarily block his powers to make sure there weren't any accidents. He was very good at hiding his abilities, but he and Oliver both agreed it was better to be safe than sorry when the media was involved, since through them, the entire state and due to social media, potentially the entire country could be watching their every move.

After Clark was wearing the pendant, Oliver had then made sure to close all the plane's windows so that Clark couldn't see out of any of them. Then before they deplaned, Oliver insisted that Clark wear a blindfold and earplugs to make sure that he couldn't peak or overhear anything that would ruin the surprise. Clark had felt a little silly going down the stairs to the tarmac blindfolded, but Oliver did an admirable job of guiding him to the awaiting limousine and thus Clark made it without tripping.

It wasn't until the limousine had stopped at the hotel that Oliver finally revealed where they were, and Clark was in awe to find out that they were in Paris. Like most people, Clark had seen plenty of pictures of the City of Lights, but he'd never been there before and hadn't really expected to ever visit. When he commented on this, Oliver couldn't resist whispering in his ear that that sort of statement sounded rather odd coming from a person like Clark, who could literally fly anywhere in the world in less than five minutes. Of course, Clark still had a lingering fear of heights so he tended to avoid flying too often and only did it when it was required by his activities as Superman.

"It's one of the most romantic cities on the planet," Oliver had said. "So, considering how much I adore you, I figured it was perfect."

Neither of them said anything else for a while, because they had almost immediately begun trying to break their record for their longest kiss, which at the time of their arrival in Paris was four and a half minutes and had been set the previous day at their wedding. If anyone had passed them during this time, they would surely have thought that they were one person, so close they were standing to one another.

Of course, that illusion was only aided by the fact that over the course of their eight year relationship they'd gotten into the habit of dressing alike. They didn't dress identically every day, although that particular day did happen to be one of those days that they did. Even now eight years later, Oliver still fondly remembered the day when he'd taken control of Clark's wardrobe. Most of it was boxed up and donated to charity, but some of it was thrown onto a bonfire in the yard of the Kent Farm, because as Oliver had said at the time, Clark owned way too much red and blue clothing and it was beyond ridiculous how exclusively he wore those two colors. With Oliver's help, however, Clark now wore very little red or blue, except of course when he was in his Superman uniform.

After kissing for five minutes and thus breaking their previous record, Clark and Oliver headed into the hotel hand in hand. During his term as governor, Oliver had chosen to live at his family's mansion in Star City and commute to Sacramento via helicopter, which he paid for out of his own pocket, rather than living in the historical governor's mansion which hadn't been lived in full time by a sitting governor since 1967.

Thus having lived with Oliver at Queen Manor for four years, Clark had gotten used to an elegance that was far beyond what he'd been accustomed to as a Kansas farm boy. The luxurious appointments of the Plaza Athénée however, were a step beyond even the elegance that was Queen Manor and Clark couldn't help but feel more than a little out of place, even as Oliver guided them over to the reception desk and proceeded to speak to the desk agent in perfectly fluent French. Clark recognized a few words, but he'd taken Spanish in high school and promptly forgot most of it after graduation.

A few minutes later, when they entered the hotel room, Clark was shocked at the size of it and was even more shocked when Oliver told him that it was 4,845 square feet, with four bedrooms, four bathrooms, a luxurious sitting room, dining room, and even a full kitchen. Shaking his head, Clark said, "Was this really necessary, Ollie? I mean, it is just the two of us, so why do we need a suite with four bedrooms? I mean, yes, if Connor and Robbie had come with us, it would probably have made sense, but they're not here."

Oliver grinned. "Indeed they aren't, because I don't know about you, Clark, but I wouldn't want my children coming with me on my honeymoon. Besides, four bedrooms just means we have plenty of places that we're going to have to christen."

Clark blushed at that comment, even as he began looking forward to doing exactly what his other half had just suggested. Looking around the room for a few more minutes, Clark finally shook his head and asked, "Ollie, how much did this cost?"

Oliver tried to look innocent at this question, because it was sometimes a point of contention between Clark and Oliver that Oliver tended to spend too much money. Surprisingly, however, even with that, they didn't really discuss money very often and thus Oliver couldn't honestly remember if he'd ever actually told Clark how much money he actually made. Knowing that his new husband expected an answer, however, Oliver said the first thing that came to his mind, which was, "I don't think you really want to know." He winced the moment the words were out of his mouth, however, as he knew that was just about the definition of the wrong thing to say.

"Oliver, tell me."

"Clark, you know I love you…"

"Oliver Jonas Queen stop stalling and answer the question."

Oliver sighed. "$27,000… a night."

"What?!" Clark exclaimed. "Oliver, come on. We're here for a week and you book us into a suite that costs $27,000 a night?" Taking a moment to do some quick math in his head, he then said, "That's $189,000 for the week, Ollie. Have you completely taken leave of your senses?"

"Yes, Clark, I have taken leave of my senses," Oliver said with a grin. "And that's all your fault, you know, because I love you with all of my heart and soul and thus I'm driven to give you the very best of everything."

"Ollie, don't blame your overspending on me. Can't we get something cheaper? I mean in a week this room is going to cost us more than what the house I grew up in is even worth."

"No, Clark, we can't get anything cheaper. As I said, I'm driven to give you the very best of everything and I'm going to do that whether you like it or not. I understand that you grew up on a farm and thus spending $27,000 a night on a hotel room is totally bat-shit crazy to you." Clark nodded his head at this. "But trust me when I say that I can easily afford it, Clark, because as I would have thought you'd have noticed living at Queen Manor the last four years, I'm rich and now that we're married, I suppose I should actually say we're rich."

Clark sighed. "It's just a difficult transition for me, Oliver. I mean, I grew up on a farm in Kansas in a two-bedroom house, so whenever we had guests, I had to sleep on the couch so that the guests could use my bedroom. So going from that to even just your penthouse in Metropolis was a shock and then Queen Manor went even further beyond that. But this place, no offense meant, almost makes Queen Manor look cheap by comparison." Shaking his head, he added, "I just don't understand how spending that kind of money doesn't bother you."

"And to think $180,000 is only for the hotel room," Oliver said. "That doesn't include everything else like meals, transportation, or entry fees to the various attractions around town. Although, I think I'd prefer to skip most of the tourist destinations this trip, as I'd much rather spend my time here in the suite with you, preferably naked, while we work our way through christening every surface. I mean, let's be honest, Clark, who needs the Louvre when I've got the immense good fortune to be married to the finest work of art ever created?"

Clark blushed even as he groaned. "Ollie, stop trying to distract me with flirting."

Shaking his head, Oliver said, "I'll never stop trying to distract you with flirting, because you, Clark Kent, are drop dead gorgeous. And we're married now, so, I refuse to resist flirting with you, or hugging you, or kissing you, or doing anything with you."

"As if the fact that we weren't married before now meant that you actually resisted doing any of that."

"Careful or I might think that you'd prefer I start resisting." Oliver said, as he leaned in and placed a kiss on the tip of the brunet's nose. "Now, as often as we've bickered about money, Clark, I honestly can't recall ever telling you how much money I actually make. I mean do you even realize how much money I make in a single day?"

Clark looked thoughtful for a moment, before he shook his head. "Honestly, no I don't know. I suppose that would probably surprise most people, as they would think I should know or that I would look it up on the internet or something, but I never did. I suppose some would question how I was an investigative reporter with an attitude like that, but I love you, Oliver, so I never wanted to give you the impression that it was your money that I loved. So I made a conscious effort to never look into how much you're actually worth."

Oliver smiled. He truly had hit the jackpot with Clark Kent, because he'd had plenty of boyfriends over the years who only wanted him for his money. The fact that he'd been openly gay since he was seventeen also didn't stop throngs of women from throwing themselves at him, all clearly hoping to get a piece of the Queen money.

"I appreciate that more than you can imagine, Clark," Oliver said after a moment, as he wrapped his arms around his husband's waist. "But, now that we're married, you should know that as the majority shareholder of an international conglomerate, according to the Forbes list for last year, I'm the fourth richest man in the United States with a net worth of $74.3 billion, which means that only Bill Gates, Veronica Sterling, and Bruce have more money than me. And that doesn't include Connor's or Robbie's trust funds."

Clark's eyes widened at this, as he said, "$74.3 billion? I knew you were rich, but I never thought you were that rich."

"Well, it won't be that much when Forbes puts out their next list, because I'll be dropping to $50.3 billion on the next list, and thus the fifth richest spot, with Warren Buffett taking the fourth spot." At Clark's clearly questioning look, Oliver said, "My lawyers are as we speak drawing up all the necessary paperwork to transfer 20% of my Queen stock to you, Clark, along with a few other assets, so assuming the stock doesn't lose too much value between now and then, you're actually going to end up on the Forbes list yourself with a net worth of approximately $24 billion. Last time I talked to my lawyer, he estimated that would make you the twenty-third richest person in the country."

"Oliver, you shouldn't have done that."

"I wanted to Clark, and you're my husband now, for life, because if you think for even a fraction of a millisecond that I will ever let you go, you're certifiably insane. So, you're just going to have to get used to living in the lap of luxury, because you're going to be doing it for the rest of your life. As for this hotel suite, Clark, if it wasn't already abundantly clear that I can afford $180,000 for a week, I would just point out that I make well over five million dollars a day, so what I'm spending on this hotel is pretty much pocket change."

Feeling a little weak in the knees, since he was still wearing the kryptonite pendant, Clark leaned against Oliver and wrapped his own arms around Oliver's waist, as he rested his forehead against his husband's. After a moment, he said, "Okay, Ollie, you've made your point. I'm definitely going to need some time to get used to this, as basically becoming an overnight billionaire many times over is a lot to take in. However, I know that this is important to you, so we can stay here." He then grinned and said, "Plus, I've gotta say the thought of having sex with you in four different beds does sound kind of appealing."

"Just kind of appealing?" Oliver asked. "Do try to show a little more enthusiasm, Clark."

"I'll show you enthusiasm, Oliver Queen," Clark said as he took a step back, removed the pendant from his neck and tossed it across the room. In the next moment, Oliver found himself over Clark's shoulder, as he was carried into the nearest bedroom. He wasn't about to complain, however.

-o-0-o-

On the last full day of their honeymoon, Clark awoke in one of the bedrooms of the suite, as he and Oliver had slept in all of them over the course of the last week. Of course, it should be unsurprising considering that they were newlyweds that actually sleeping was far from the only thing they'd done in those bedrooms. Or pretty much any of the rooms in the suite, as Oliver had not been kidding when he said he wanted to christen every surface in the suite. Even after eight years with Oliver, Clark honestly could not remember a time in which he'd had more sex with the blond then he had during the last week. And not only in bed, but on couches, chairs, bathtubs, showers, dining room tables, and even kitchen counters. Clark wasn't complaining, however, as he'd greatly enjoyed each and every encounter.

They did not, however, spend every second of every day in their suite as they did go out on the town and see some of the sights, such as the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Notre Dame Cathedral. Oliver had even arranged for a trip outside of Paris in which they headed out to tour the Palace of Versailles, which it had to be said was easily one of the most spectacularly ostentatious places that Clark had ever seen in his life. On their way back from the palace they stopped at a local vineyard and enjoyed a few glasses of wine as they'd watched the sunset together. They'd also spent a good amount of time eating some of the best food that Clark had ever tasted in his entire life, which had surprised him because he'd previously thought that nothing could ever hold a candle to his mother's cooking. He now knew, however, that he was wrong, although he had no intention of ever telling Martha that.

"You awake yet, sexy?" Oliver asked, with a smile as he entered the bedroom from the living room.

"Yeah, I'm awake," Clark said as he sat up. Noticing that Oliver had pulled on a pair of black silk lounge pants and a green silk robe, Clark cocked his head and said, "Why are you wearing clothes this early?"

Oliver grinned. "Early? I'd hardly call 1:30 in the afternoon early, Clark. Besides, I don't think the room service attendant would have appreciated me answering the door naked."

Now it was Clark's turn to grin. "He's obviously blind then."

"Is that so?" Oliver asked, as he cocked an eyebrow upwards.

"Yes," Clark answered. "Anyone who doesn't appreciate the sheer beauty of you naked is as blind as a bat."

Oliver smiled. "Don't let Bruce hear you say that. You know how touchy he can get about his favorite mammal."

Clark snorted. "Sometimes I think there's something seriously wrong with that man. What Chloe sees in him, I'll never understand."

"Well, there's his handsome face and his ripped body."

"Puh, please."

"What you don't think he's handsome?" Oliver asked.

"Compared to you? Hell no," Clark replied. "But, then I guess I'm biased. I mean you are my husband. I suppose if I was married to Bruce-"

"Ah, but why in God's name would you settle for Bruce when you can have me?" Oliver asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Good question," Clark said. "Of course, an even better question is why are you still standing in the doorway clear across the room instead of keeping me company over here in this lovely bed?"

Oliver just grinned before ducking out of the room and coming back a moment later pushing a room service cart. Upon getting closer to the bed, Clark smiled when he saw what was on it. There was a bottle of French champagne chilling in an ice bucket, as well as a large plate of fresh strawberries, small bowls of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, and, oddly enough, a can of Reddi-wip and a bottle of Hershey's syrup.

Cocking his head, the most adorably confused look on his face, at least in Oliver's opinion, Clark asked, "What's with all the whipped cream and chocolate sauce?"

Oliver smiled as he straddled Clark's lap and kissed him, before pulling back and answering, "The bowls of it are for dipping the strawberries in. The others are for other activities," as he said this he winked and gave Clark a lascivious grin which even a Kansas farm boy, who for the most part had been quite innocent in terms of sexual exploits before he started dating a certain blond, couldn't possibly misunderstand.

Clark didn't have a chance to comment, however, because Oliver had reached over and dipped a strawberry into the bowl of whipped cream and was now holding it in front of the brunet's lips. Smiling, Clark opened his mouth and took a bite of the strawberry, at which point Oliver pulled it away and ate the rest of it himself. Grinning like only a man who is madly and completely beyond rhyme or reason in love can, Clark reached over, grabbed a strawberry, dipped it in chocolate sauce and proceeded to feed half of it to Oliver, before he quickly pulled it away and ate the other half himself.

This back and forth feeding continued for a while, as the heap of strawberries on the plate got smaller and smaller until finally a small, black velvet box—the kind jewelry often came in—was visible on the plate. Reaching over and taking the box, Oliver smiled as he held it out to the brunet.

"Oliver, what is this?"

"Just open it, silly."

Taking the box from the blond, Clark popped it open and was surprised to see instead of jewelry a set of keys on a silver key ring with a silver flap that had a fancy looking trident engraved on it.

Taking them out of the box, Clark looked at them for a moment and then asked, "Ollie, are these what I think they are?"

"Well," Oliver hedged. "What do you think they are?"

"They look like car keys," Clark answered.

Oliver smiled. "Well, that's good then because that's what they are. I know you can run or even fly wherever you want to go quite a bit faster than you could drive, but, I figured you should have your own car."

"I already do have a car, Ollie," Clark pointed out.

"I meant something a little nicer than your pick-up truck," Oliver said. "Something more along the lines of what you often see me driving around in."

"You mean these are the keys to a fancy, overpriced sports car?"

"Yes Clark. A Maserati Quattroporte S to be exact," Oliver said. "I was tempted to get you a GranCabrio, because I think you'd look good driving around in a convertible, but I could practically hear you in my head saying that I should get you the more practical four-dour vehicle. I even got it for you in red, because I know that even while I haven't allowed you to wear much of it the last few years, that it's one of your favorite colors. I have a GranCabrio in green myself—and black, and silver-"

Silencing the blond with a kiss, Clark pulled back after a moment and said, "Ollie, I love you."

"I love you, too, Clark."

"Question," Clark said after looking at the keys in his hand for a moment. "Where exactly are we going to park this new car of mine? I mean, with your car collection I doubt there's room in any of your garages."

Clark had been, to be honest, shocked when he found out exactly how many cars his husband owned. Oliver had a total of thirty stored in the underground parking garage of Queen Tower in Metropolis and seventy more in the garage of his family's mansion in Star City. True, about half of those had been Robert Queen's, but it was still enough that Clark questioned the wisdom or necessity of adding any more, especially since Connor was following in both Oliver's and his grandfather's footsteps in the car department, as he personally owned an additional fifteen of them that Clark was aware of. Clark would say that he was happy that Robbie wasn't old enough to drive yet, but even he wasn't immune to the Queen fascination with cars, as he had several of the small battery-powered cars that were built for children to drive around in.

"Totally not a problem, Clark. I can easily add another wing to the garage if necessary."

Clark laughed and said, "Oh Ollie, only you could possibly say something like that."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Clark," Oliver said and at Clark's raised eyebrow, he added, "Clearly, you've never seen Bruce's car collection. If you think I have a lot, well, he's got way more than I have and that isn't counting the Batmobiles."

"Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"I can do that," Oliver said with a smile, before he leaned in and began to passionately kiss the brunet.

Oliver soon prodded the brunet's lips with his tongue, begging for entrance, which was quickly granted, at which point Oliver snaked his tongue into Clark's awaiting mouth and began to eagerly explore every inch of the very well-charted territory. After nearly three minutes of kissing, Oliver's lips left Clark's and he kissed his way around to the brunet's left ear, kissing and lightly nipping at the lobe, before whispering, "Lay down and hold still."

Clark wasn't exactly sure why Oliver wanted him to do it, but he figured he'd know soon enough, so he did as the blond asked. Oliver smiled as he reached over and grabbed the bottle of Hershey's syrup and opened it.

"What are you going to do?" Clark asked.

"You'll see," Oliver said with a smile, before he tipped the bottle upside down and squeezed, causing the syrup to come out on Clark's bare chest.

"Ollie!"

"Shh, Clark," Oliver said. "Stay still or there'll be chocolate sauce all over the sheets."

Doing his best to stay perfectly still, Clark just moved his head so that he could stare down at his chest, a look of shock and awe on his face, as he watched Oliver draw a large heart on his chest. Oliver then added an arrow going through the heart, plus "OJQ + CJKQ" inside the heart. Just when Clark was about to comment, however, Oliver put the bottle of chocolate syrup back on the room service cart and grabbed the can of Reddi-wip, which after giving a quick shake, he opened and began to embellish his chocolate artwork with it.

Finishing up his artistic venture, Oliver smiled and said, "Perfect."

"Ollie, is there any particular reason you felt the need to draw on me?"

"Yes Clark, there is," Oliver said and winked at the brunet. "You see now comes the best part."

"And what pray tell is that?"

Oliver grinned maniacally as he put aside the whipped cream and said, "Why the cleanup, of course."

Before Clark could say anything, Oliver moved so that he could lean down over Clark's chest and stomach, where he proceeded to lick up his handiwork, very slowly. Clark moaned in pleasure, as the blond's velvety tongue licked and swirled its way across his bare flesh. Clark wasn't a virgin when he and Oliver got together, but Clark would have been lying if he'd said that his previous experiences qualified him to be called experienced, because there were plenty of things that he'd now done with Oliver than he never would have even thought of before doing them.

After several minutes of total bliss as Oliver's tongue roamed all over his stomach and chest, Clark felt a distinct sense of loss when finally the blond's tongue left his skin. Opening his eyes, which he hadn't realized he'd closed Clark looked at Oliver and couldn't help but giggle.

"What?" Oliver asked, not understanding why Clark was giggling.

Grinning, Clark said, "Come here," as he grabbed Oliver's robe and pulled him over, before darting his tongue out of his mouth and licking the tip of Oliver's nose. "You had whipped cream on your nose," he explained, at which point Oliver grinned, before he started to giggle right along with Clark.

When they finally calmed down again, Clark smiled and said, "That was brilliant, Oliver, really. I'm going to have to return the favor, because it felt great."

"I'll hold you to that," Oliver said with a smile as Clark sat up and pulled Oliver into a passionate kiss.

Clark and Oliver continued to kiss for several minutes, totally unaware of the passage of time, until suddenly the ringing of a cell phone cut through the silence. Pulling apart, Clark sighed, "That's my mom."

"How do you know?" Oliver asked.

"Because that's her ring tone," Clark said and when Oliver looked confused, Clark lightly and playfully punched the blond's forearm and said, "You bought me a phone that allowed me to set different ring tones for different people, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Oliver said. "Where is it?"

"Sounds like it's coming from the living room," Clark said.

"I'll go get it then," Oliver said with a smile. "Since I'm dressed and you're not. As much as I love seeing you walk around naked-"

"Just go, Ollie," Clark said with a grin as he playfully shoved him.

Grinning, Oliver got off the bed, went out to the living room, and retrieved Clark's cell phone. Looking at the caller id, sure enough, it was Martha Kent.

"Hey Mom," Oliver said, as he answered the phone.

"Oliver, is that you?"

"Yeah, it is," Oliver answered. "Clark is a little busy right now. What's up?"

"Well, I'm sorry to call like this and interrupt your honeymoon," Martha said, "but I have some news."

"What is it, mom?" Oliver asked as he walked back over to the bedroom door and gave Clark the thumbs up sign and a smile.

"Lex Luthor was just on Good Morning America," Martha said. "Announcing his candidacy."

"Oh you mean he's finally going to run for Jackass of the Year?"

"No, Oliver," Martha said. "He announced his candidacy for President— he's decided to run in next year's election."

Hearing that, Oliver suddenly felt faint. Lex? Running for President? Dropping the phone, Oliver soon fell to the ground, unconscious.

Hearing the clatter of the phone hitting the ground and then the thud, Martha asked in a worried tone, "Oliver? Oliver, are you okay?"

Concerned for Oliver, Clark quickly got out of bed and checked on Oliver to see that he was still alive, but he seemed to have fainted. Grabbing the phone, he said, "Mom, this is Clark. What did you say to my husband just now?"

"What happened?"

"He dropped the phone and fainted," Clark answered. "Why did he do that?"

"Possibly because I just told him that Lex was just on TV," Martha said. "He announced his intentions to run for President of the United States in next year's election."

"WHAT?!" Clark asked, probably a bit too loudly. Loud enough in fact that back in her apartment in Washington, D.C., Martha had to take the phone away from her ear to avoid being rendered deaf.

A moment later, once Clark didn't say anything else, Martha said, "Yes, Clark, you heard right. Lex is running for President. As I said to Oliver, I'm so sorry to interrupt your honeymoon with bad news, but I knew you'd both want to know."

Taking several deep breaths, Clark managed to calm himself down before he said, "Thanks for calling, Mom. We both really appreciate the heads up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to Ollie."

"Of course, honey," Martha said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom," Clark said, before he hung up. Picking Oliver up, he carried him over to the bed and laid him down, before going into the bathroom and grabbing a cold, wet washcloth. The whole time thinking, 'Lex? President? Oh, shit!'

-o-0-o-

To be continued.

And there you have Chapter One of 'The Battle of the Billionaires.' I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think and if this story should be continued. Please note, however, that this was posted on February 15th, which AO3 calls International Fan Works Day, although I've also seen people call it Evil Authors' Day. Thus this story should very much be considered an entry for the latter, so don't expect updates anytime soon because there won't be any until at least one of the six active multi-chaptered fics that I've already got in progress are finished… and that could take months or even years. If at least one isn't finished by the time Evil Authors' Day 2018 rolls around, you might get another chapter, but for now… *evil laughter*

For those of you who might be unaware what my currently active fics are, here's the list. They can all, with the exception of the first one, be found on both FFNet and AO3 under the name JayColin and are updated in a rotating schedule of 3-5 chapter arcs. The first one can be found on FFNet as 'A Royal at Hogwarts' with a fictionalized British Royal Family, although I've discontinued that version and there's like 3 or 4 chapters that are posted on AO3 that have not been posted on FFNet.

#1: A Windsor at Hogwarts (Harry Potter/British Royalty crossover)

#2: Breaking the Cycle (Power Rangers fandom) *Currently working on 3rd chapter of the arc*

#3: Knights of the Founders (Harry Potter fandom)

#4: Brotherly Love (Smallville fandom)

#5: The Journey Begins/Along the Journey (Harry Potter/Merlin crossover)

#6: The Q Effect (Mass Effect/Star Trek crossover)

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to contact me in a review, by email, my Yahoo group, or on Twitter JVascardi. Alternatively, you can also try to contact me via Skype (text messaging only) at . I also have a wiki for my active multi-chaptered stories (this one not currently included) at: . ?title=Stories_by_Jayson_Wiki