"The only thing missing is that theme music from 2001," Bruce Wayne muttered.
"Also sprach Zarathustra. By Richard Strauss," Alfred supplied, and for a moment shared the glare that had been solely directed at the television.
"Now *that* was a cool movie." Wally West got part of the glare, too.
It was only a short while after the apparent Lex Luthor's arrival that at least some television service was restored to Gotham and all the available stations were live on the scene as he toured the city. Clark was finding it creepy and he suspected that Lex was even more weirded out by it than he was. No wonder Lex had mumbled something about needing to do some stuff and left. Clark had half-risen but Lex had looked at him oddly and gestured for him to stay. Must be extra weird, wanting to be alone for a bit but knowing that somewhere out there, your own father is wearing your identity. Kind of like the opposite of a split personality or something. Oh, well, Lex'd get over it, Clark decided. He didn't really want to get a glare himself so he kept his wish for popcorn to himself. Especially since Bruce had been pissier even than early-morning pre-coffee Lex ever since Clark had met that woman dressed as a cat.
Leaving those thoughts for later, Clark returned his attention to the television. Dad was talking about how all the threads that built the great social fabric of Gotham City must be brought together, government, corporations, small businesses, philanthropists, individuals, long-term residents and new arrivals, to rebuild the city to take its place again as one of the world's hubs for commerce and culture alike. "I *think* that means he's rebuilding the opera house first," Clark translated.
A reporter asked what the cost of rebuilding would be and got a knowing smirk. "We're still making the estimates but the thing I know for certain is this. The cost of not rebuilding is far greater, for this city and for this nation." A smattering of applause started and Clark was pretty sure that it was spontaneous. "There are *some* promises made that some big businesses didn't want to keep, but we'll make sure they do keep to their word." That was a dig at some of the big insurance companies which had threatened to declare bankruptcy if made to pay the full coverage or had suddenly started contesting values and costs of rebuilding. This time, a knowing, even conspiratorial laugh moved through the crowd as though it were an entity in its own right. "And I think that we can make a successful case for federal assistance. Several members of Congress have expressed their support for an aid package." Clark was pretty sure that that was a dig at Bruce but didn't want to turn and look.
Lionel stepped to the side where a crowd was watching and dealt a full measure of charm, sprinkled with smiles and handshakes. "Betcha a dollar he does," whispered Flash.
"No way," Clark whispered back.
"Two bucks."
Alfred coughed and Clark looked up. "Oh, sorry. Flash thinks he's actually going to--"
"He did it! He really did it!"
"Kiss a baby," Clark finished gloomily and reached in his pocket.
"Also sprach Zarathustra. By Richard Strauss," Alfred supplied, and for a moment shared the glare that had been solely directed at the television.
"Now *that* was a cool movie." Wally West got part of the glare, too.
It was only a short while after the apparent Lex Luthor's arrival that at least some television service was restored to Gotham and all the available stations were live on the scene as he toured the city. Clark was finding it creepy and he suspected that Lex was even more weirded out by it than he was. No wonder Lex had mumbled something about needing to do some stuff and left. Clark had half-risen but Lex had looked at him oddly and gestured for him to stay. Must be extra weird, wanting to be alone for a bit but knowing that somewhere out there, your own father is wearing your identity. Kind of like the opposite of a split personality or something. Oh, well, Lex'd get over it, Clark decided. He didn't really want to get a glare himself so he kept his wish for popcorn to himself. Especially since Bruce had been pissier even than early-morning pre-coffee Lex ever since Clark had met that woman dressed as a cat.
Leaving those thoughts for later, Clark returned his attention to the television. Dad was talking about how all the threads that built the great social fabric of Gotham City must be brought together, government, corporations, small businesses, philanthropists, individuals, long-term residents and new arrivals, to rebuild the city to take its place again as one of the world's hubs for commerce and culture alike. "I *think* that means he's rebuilding the opera house first," Clark translated.
A reporter asked what the cost of rebuilding would be and got a knowing smirk. "We're still making the estimates but the thing I know for certain is this. The cost of not rebuilding is far greater, for this city and for this nation." A smattering of applause started and Clark was pretty sure that it was spontaneous. "There are *some* promises made that some big businesses didn't want to keep, but we'll make sure they do keep to their word." That was a dig at some of the big insurance companies which had threatened to declare bankruptcy if made to pay the full coverage or had suddenly started contesting values and costs of rebuilding. This time, a knowing, even conspiratorial laugh moved through the crowd as though it were an entity in its own right. "And I think that we can make a successful case for federal assistance. Several members of Congress have expressed their support for an aid package." Clark was pretty sure that that was a dig at Bruce but didn't want to turn and look.
Lionel stepped to the side where a crowd was watching and dealt a full measure of charm, sprinkled with smiles and handshakes. "Betcha a dollar he does," whispered Flash.
"No way," Clark whispered back.
"Two bucks."
Alfred coughed and Clark looked up. "Oh, sorry. Flash thinks he's actually going to--"
"He did it! He really did it!"
"Kiss a baby," Clark finished gloomily and reached in his pocket.