Clark threw another broken chair against the wall, where the wood shattered. Just for good measure, he burnt the shattered pieces with a glare, before they even fell. They'd better not know that he could hear them talking about him.
"That, I think, was one of the smaller pieces of furniture." Yeah, Alfred thinks he knows *everything.*
"What's the last count?" And if Bruce didn't stop sounding so above-it-all amused and just a bit sorry for him, the Bat was going to find out whether or not his stupid mask would fit anywhere else.
"I think that's the tenth."
"Well, it saves some landfill space." No, he'd *make* it fit. So hard that it'd end up on his head again after all.
They all just thought that the question was like Where's Waldo? You get an answer and that's it. "Where's Lex? Defected. Next page?" The way they'd just *looked* at him when he said that it had got to be some kind of mind game of Lionel's and for all they knew, Lex might need their help.
He went out and did things for everybody in the city all day and that was still great, people thanked him and looked at him like he really was this big superhero. For the first time, he really got to use his abilities in front of everybody, even if he had to use a fake name, but when he got back to the League and told them that Lex *wouldn't* ditch them, they looked at him like he'd said that he still thought that Santa Claus was real or something stupid like that.
Maybe the fake name wasn't that stupid an idea, even if it was Bruce's. After all, he'd gotten the jitters when he came out of an apartment building they were just finishing rebuilding--since they were rebuilding it from the old foundation he wanted to be extra sure that it was safe--and when he got out, there was Dad, grinning and shaking hands and just *oozing* charm all over the place. Dad had even waved and said, really loudly, that Gotham was lucky to have that kind of protector and friend. He'd smiled right at Clark and when he heard a camera go off, if he hadn't muttered something about stuff to do, he'd have, well, done something.
One of the big suits of armor had been almost completely crushed in the earthquake and to give his hands something to do, he picked it up, squishing part of it and then going to the next part, compressing it until it was just a metal ball. He tossed it up and down while he tried to think. Would it really be that stupid to go and ask Dad what was going on, if he knew what happened to Lex? If he did it in public, it should be okay, it's not like Dad would be able to do anything in public, not to Superman.
"I think he's still upstairs. I'll take it on up." Oh, goodie, just what he needed, an Alfred Appearance. The guy walked like he had a marble in his butt crack and didn't want it to drop.
"This came for Mr. Clark Luthor, care of Bruce Wayne." He handed Clark an envelope and just *stood* there like he didn't think Clark would really tell him to go away.
"Alfred?"
"Yes?"
"Go away."
***
*Clark Luthor.* Weird when your own name sounds like something, well, weird is going on.
"Dear Clark,"
*I know the handwriting. Hi, Dad. See, if I'm laughing and making remarks, then I'm not worried.*
"It was an unexpected pleasure to see you in your new lifestyle. It clearly seems to agree with you. I'm not surprised in the least, as I always knew your destiny was to shape history as few men have."
*Did you get a pomposity transplant or is this innate? Or do you just know how much it bugs me?*
"I think you'll quickly realize--if you haven't already--that enmity between us would be absolutely counter-productive for any of our goals, shared or disparate. Instead, I hope to establish a working partnership."
*Would that be Luthor and Son or Luthor and Clone?*
"Upon occasion, I would like to ask you to perform certain tasks for me or obtain certain information. They will even be in accordance with your suddenly lofty principles. That quixotic streak in you which we tried so hard to repress certainly resurfaced in a time of crisis. But then, Lex's own quixotic streak has played a significant part, even a vital part, in my new plans for Gotham City. You might say that they owe their existence to him.
*Get to the point, Dad, what's happening with Lex? If I keep laughing, then it's still a joke, right?*
"My plans for this disaster were originally unambitious. However, your brother contacted me and told me what kinds of profits might be made in rebuilding the city--profits which were not limited to financial profits. It was a request and a particularly ill-disguised, but then, it would have been difficult to disguise."
*Lex'd look really stupid in Groucho glasses.*
"I offered my full and total help based upon two conditions. First, that he provide me with the information necessary to make a successful bid for majority control of Wayne Industries and that he use whatever leverage he had with Wayne to make the bid succeed. My second condition was that you both return to my custody, which would include a resumption of your earlier lifestyles, one which I suspected you both missed more than you might have guessed. I was quite proud of him when he negotiated this down to simply his own return. Since there were considerable advantages to that offer as well, I accepted."
*Stupid Lex! What the hell did he do that for? Like I couldn't have taken care of, well, a lot of things, if not everything. Well, maybe it wasn't that stupid an idea, to show Dad where the big money would be, but...stupid Lex.*
"Your loyalty, Clark, once given, is fierce and unconditional, even uncontrolled on your part. It became apparent that you had given this loyalty to your brother. If you are wondering whether or not I could bring myself to do Lex any harm, rest assured that I have considered the question deeply and come to my own conclusions. Since you would have no reason not to meet my occasional requests, those conclusions will, I hope, remain in a state similar to that of Schrodinger's cat, to use a whimsical illustration for a serious topic."
*Look, for once, would you stop playing 101 Appropriate References? How about just saying...okay, just saying that even though, well, I know you probably wouldn't hurt him, I...I don't want to take the chance. Dammit, the way he twists it, I feel like it's my fault if anything does happen.*
"Naturally, you and he may communicate as often as you like, though I shall reserve the privilege of monitoring any correspondence. To avoid any lack of clarity, please be aware that I will consider any attempts to remove him from my custody as a violation on your part of the understanding which this message creates between us."
*The word for the day: Pompous. Synonym: Lionel Luthor.*
"Your proud father."
*Riiight.*
After reading the message three times, Clark still didn't know whether to shout, so that everybody could hear it, a good, loud "I told you so!" or destroy another chair.
AN:
I'm curious, did the setup for the twist/misdirection work? Did you think, "Oh, now that makes sense, that's where it was really heading" or was your reaction more "That was kinda contrived?"
"That, I think, was one of the smaller pieces of furniture." Yeah, Alfred thinks he knows *everything.*
"What's the last count?" And if Bruce didn't stop sounding so above-it-all amused and just a bit sorry for him, the Bat was going to find out whether or not his stupid mask would fit anywhere else.
"I think that's the tenth."
"Well, it saves some landfill space." No, he'd *make* it fit. So hard that it'd end up on his head again after all.
They all just thought that the question was like Where's Waldo? You get an answer and that's it. "Where's Lex? Defected. Next page?" The way they'd just *looked* at him when he said that it had got to be some kind of mind game of Lionel's and for all they knew, Lex might need their help.
He went out and did things for everybody in the city all day and that was still great, people thanked him and looked at him like he really was this big superhero. For the first time, he really got to use his abilities in front of everybody, even if he had to use a fake name, but when he got back to the League and told them that Lex *wouldn't* ditch them, they looked at him like he'd said that he still thought that Santa Claus was real or something stupid like that.
Maybe the fake name wasn't that stupid an idea, even if it was Bruce's. After all, he'd gotten the jitters when he came out of an apartment building they were just finishing rebuilding--since they were rebuilding it from the old foundation he wanted to be extra sure that it was safe--and when he got out, there was Dad, grinning and shaking hands and just *oozing* charm all over the place. Dad had even waved and said, really loudly, that Gotham was lucky to have that kind of protector and friend. He'd smiled right at Clark and when he heard a camera go off, if he hadn't muttered something about stuff to do, he'd have, well, done something.
One of the big suits of armor had been almost completely crushed in the earthquake and to give his hands something to do, he picked it up, squishing part of it and then going to the next part, compressing it until it was just a metal ball. He tossed it up and down while he tried to think. Would it really be that stupid to go and ask Dad what was going on, if he knew what happened to Lex? If he did it in public, it should be okay, it's not like Dad would be able to do anything in public, not to Superman.
"I think he's still upstairs. I'll take it on up." Oh, goodie, just what he needed, an Alfred Appearance. The guy walked like he had a marble in his butt crack and didn't want it to drop.
"This came for Mr. Clark Luthor, care of Bruce Wayne." He handed Clark an envelope and just *stood* there like he didn't think Clark would really tell him to go away.
"Alfred?"
"Yes?"
"Go away."
***
*Clark Luthor.* Weird when your own name sounds like something, well, weird is going on.
"Dear Clark,"
*I know the handwriting. Hi, Dad. See, if I'm laughing and making remarks, then I'm not worried.*
"It was an unexpected pleasure to see you in your new lifestyle. It clearly seems to agree with you. I'm not surprised in the least, as I always knew your destiny was to shape history as few men have."
*Did you get a pomposity transplant or is this innate? Or do you just know how much it bugs me?*
"I think you'll quickly realize--if you haven't already--that enmity between us would be absolutely counter-productive for any of our goals, shared or disparate. Instead, I hope to establish a working partnership."
*Would that be Luthor and Son or Luthor and Clone?*
"Upon occasion, I would like to ask you to perform certain tasks for me or obtain certain information. They will even be in accordance with your suddenly lofty principles. That quixotic streak in you which we tried so hard to repress certainly resurfaced in a time of crisis. But then, Lex's own quixotic streak has played a significant part, even a vital part, in my new plans for Gotham City. You might say that they owe their existence to him.
*Get to the point, Dad, what's happening with Lex? If I keep laughing, then it's still a joke, right?*
"My plans for this disaster were originally unambitious. However, your brother contacted me and told me what kinds of profits might be made in rebuilding the city--profits which were not limited to financial profits. It was a request and a particularly ill-disguised, but then, it would have been difficult to disguise."
*Lex'd look really stupid in Groucho glasses.*
"I offered my full and total help based upon two conditions. First, that he provide me with the information necessary to make a successful bid for majority control of Wayne Industries and that he use whatever leverage he had with Wayne to make the bid succeed. My second condition was that you both return to my custody, which would include a resumption of your earlier lifestyles, one which I suspected you both missed more than you might have guessed. I was quite proud of him when he negotiated this down to simply his own return. Since there were considerable advantages to that offer as well, I accepted."
*Stupid Lex! What the hell did he do that for? Like I couldn't have taken care of, well, a lot of things, if not everything. Well, maybe it wasn't that stupid an idea, to show Dad where the big money would be, but...stupid Lex.*
"Your loyalty, Clark, once given, is fierce and unconditional, even uncontrolled on your part. It became apparent that you had given this loyalty to your brother. If you are wondering whether or not I could bring myself to do Lex any harm, rest assured that I have considered the question deeply and come to my own conclusions. Since you would have no reason not to meet my occasional requests, those conclusions will, I hope, remain in a state similar to that of Schrodinger's cat, to use a whimsical illustration for a serious topic."
*Look, for once, would you stop playing 101 Appropriate References? How about just saying...okay, just saying that even though, well, I know you probably wouldn't hurt him, I...I don't want to take the chance. Dammit, the way he twists it, I feel like it's my fault if anything does happen.*
"Naturally, you and he may communicate as often as you like, though I shall reserve the privilege of monitoring any correspondence. To avoid any lack of clarity, please be aware that I will consider any attempts to remove him from my custody as a violation on your part of the understanding which this message creates between us."
*The word for the day: Pompous. Synonym: Lionel Luthor.*
"Your proud father."
*Riiight.*
After reading the message three times, Clark still didn't know whether to shout, so that everybody could hear it, a good, loud "I told you so!" or destroy another chair.
AN:
I'm curious, did the setup for the twist/misdirection work? Did you think, "Oh, now that makes sense, that's where it was really heading" or was your reaction more "That was kinda contrived?"