Clark stewed and simmered, dreaming of the perfect revenge. How dare Queen give him over to the Smallville police force where the bail the judge had set was so ridiculous, he'd have to sell LuthorMedia just to make it. Hence, here he was in his own private corner of hell.

He looked down at his lunch. It was a hot dog. If anything should have been illegal, it was that slightly stale bun and shriveled up wiener with a generous helping of canned chili. Revolting.

"What's the matter, Luthor? Not gourmet enough for you?" the guard taunted.

He might be stuck here for awhile, but that didn't mean he had to eat everything they shoved in his face. He ignored him and the plate. Instead, he picked up the latest copy of LuthorMedia to read. He may have been cut off from the outside world in most respects, but at least he still had this, a daily subscription.

Although, it was goading in a way that the world went on without him running it. He could have and should have used his powers to conquer the world. Being powerless was an equalizer in a way that not even the orange jumpsuits could be. That was even more true without access to his funds. What separated him from the crowd now? Very little and that was unsettling to him to be like everyone else though there were times as a small child when he'd wanted nothing else.

He went straight to the business section. He gave a snort of disgust to see that LuthorCorp stocks were plummeting even if it was hardly a surprise. News of his arrest had been the top story, his face splashed all over the papers and pinned to screens for the past week. Naturally shareholders would be panicking.

The guard came back. "You have a visitor. A female."

He put the paper down at once. Good. He hoped it was Tess. He was going to give her a piece of his mind. She was going to run the corporation into the ground.

He groaned when he saw it was Lois. What did she want from him? Absolution? She wasn't going to get it. In fact, he was pretty close to hating her. He was certainly still angry.

Yet, he took a seat on the wooden chair that must have been selected by the jail's interior decorator to add to the discomfort of its residents.

A glass partition separated them. He was too dangerous apparently to be face-to-face with a person on the outside. It was an insult is what it was when he could have broken through before his whole world had changed forever. And there she was looking at him with a small measure of pity but mostly curiosity. Was that what this was? A chance to satisfy her curiosity?

He picked up the telephone. "You just can't stay away from me, can you?"

"Still cocky even when you've lost nearly everything."

He chuckled. "It bothers you, doesn't it, my attitude? I'm a puzzle, an enigma you can't quite work out."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Clark. I know you. You're a self-important, hardhearted brute. You think your money allows you to dictate to and look down on others as if you were the reason for your wealth rather than your family. Your powers only added to that delusion. You don't think you have to answer to anyone. In your mind, you are the highest power."

"Only idiots believe in a higher power. There is no God."

"For your sake, with your record, you better hope that's true."

"I know it is. Experience taught me that. Where was God when I was just a little kid getting beaten by my father? For that matter, where was he when a whole planet of people blew up?"

He'd rendered her silent this time, no smart comebacks.

"When my mother got sick," he went on. "I prayed that she would get better. She was my protector, the only one not afraid to say I love you in my family, but she died anyway. Where was this Loving Father in the Sky then? Life is what you make of it because right and wrong is a blurry line at best, and I have made life work for me. I denied myself nothing."

"And now it's exactly what you have, nothing. Funny how that philosophy worked out in the end."

"It's not over, Ms. Lane. I've told you that."

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to realize that it is, and what are you going to do when that day comes? You have no family to speak of. Tess is already working to get you disinherited."

"That bi-"

"And there'll be no nights of passion to distract you while you're serving your sentence. You'll really have no one but yourself for company, and you know something? Despite everything you say, I don't think you like him very much."

"I like me fine. It's you who wishes I was someone else. Probably because your soon-to-be ex wasn't giving it to you at home. That's right; I read about your separation in the paper."

The glass partition came in handy because the way her eyes burned, no doubt she would have slapped him or used her fist. "Gossip to create buzz. That's all."

She was lying. He could tell by the way she clinched her jaw. It shouldn't matter to him as romance wasn't in the forecast with their history and current circumstances, but it didn't keep his treacherous heart from giving a little leap of joy and then he knew.

He was called one of the cruelest men of their time in an article of his arrest by none other than the woman in front of him, but she had done the cruelest thing a person could ever do, and it had nothing to do with the serum. She'd made him fall in love with her.

"Look, you've done your job. You saved the world from a tyrant and wrote about it, a very well-written story I might add. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a Pulitzer in your future. You should be proud of yourself. Is that what you needed to hear?"

"I was hoping you could tell me about Tess. The judge might give you a lighter sentence if you help serve justice, and what's more, I think it'd begin a journey for you of freedom, freedom from the Luthor name, and just being able to do a good deed even from behind bars will be rewarding."

"Lady, you have some kind of audacity." What else would Lois Lane want from him except another story? She was an ice queen, a pit bull, and all the other things people said about her around the water cooler. "You expect me to sell out my sister and then thank you for it? I'm not him."

"Who?" she asked as if she didn't know.

"I'm not Clark Kent. I'm Clark Luthor, no matter how much you want it to be otherwise. So stop trying to turn me into your fantasy man just because it's over with your husband. I'm sure if you look long enough you'll find some little pansy, who won't mind being Mr. Lane."

She glared at him before she hung up the receiver and walked away, but predictably she couldn't let him have the last word. He didn't need superhearing to see her mouth, "Screw you."