A continuation to this prompt fic http://mysteryismyart.tumblr.com/post/145869908950/so-i-just-read-all-your-bvs-fics-on-ao3-and-i-have#notes
Lex wakes up the next morning and tries to remember.
Lex woke up to agony.
Well, that might have been an exaggeration, but Lex dealt in absolutes so a head ache slowly but methodically pounding at his temples and the whole feeling of…wrongness in his body warranted a ‘code red’. He groaned into the pillow, and then groaned again because of the disgusting feeling in his mouth.
He was still wearing a suit.
Oh yes…The party must have been a success, Lex thought.
He pushed himself up and off the bed, stumbling over the edge but managing not to face plant on the floor. He needed a shower. He stood on his feet, unsteady, and looked around. The room was as pristine as ever – the cleaning staff was notorious at fighting Lex’ messiness – with the obvious exception of the bed. A glass of water was waiting on the nightstand. Lex grabbed clumsily and drowned the whole thing in one go. That was good. That made him feel more like himself.
As Lex slammed the glass back on the table, something else caught his eye. A sheet of paper, blank, safe for two lines on the top. A LexCorp engraving at the bottom called for official business so he reached for it, disregarding how much he did not want to work. The content was surprising though.
A phone number. And a name.
Clark Kent.
“Huh?” Lex peered at the paper as if it can reveal more secrets. “Kent…”
Something was nagging at the back of his mind, a thought that demanded to be acknowledged. The hangover was making it difficult but he was starting to recall something…
“Clark!” An enthusiastic shout. Nothing unusual that, Lex was always enthusiastic, especially when drunk.
“Clarky!”
“Oh…” Not good.
Lex squeezed his eyes, trying to shut down the memory, but his ears were ringing with his own voice, obnoxiously loud and demanding. He desperately needed to call for Mercy, but her patronizing would be the final nail in his coffin. He wouldn’t mind some babying right at that moment, but somehow she always skipped the good part and treated him like a child who was suffering terrible consequences his own actions. She would be so condescending.
Still, the situation called for some clarification. He found a phone, still in his jacket pocket, and sent her a quick text. Then, preparing to his horrible fate, he perched on the edge of the bed, hiding his face in his hands. He needed a shower and some more sleep and then, maybe, he will feel human again.
“You called, boss?” Mercy appeared, quiet as usual. How can someone wearing those heels move so soundlessly?...
“What’s this?” He waved the paper at her, looking up through the curtain of hair.
Her little smirk told him everything she thought about his current condition. Stupid. Pitiful. Why was he employing her again?
“A phone number, Sir.”
“I can see that,” he replied tersely, in no mood for games.
“It’s what you asked for.” She shrugged. “Last night.”
“Clark Kent’s number.” Lex said slowly, each word tasting sour on his tongue.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I believe you had a deal with him, Sir.”
Lex narrowed his eyes in suspicion, half expecting the whole thing to turn out to be a joke. But Mercy was not the type for jokes.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Apparently,” she glanced away, fighting a smile. “You really wanted to take Kent home. Or at least make out with him right there. Kent, however, was a perfect gentleman and told you to call him in the morning if you were still interested.”
That explained the mortifying memory of Lex trying to climb Kent like a tree. Metaphorically and literally. Mortified Lex released a pitiful whine and looked down at the sheet of paper. He had crumpled it up in a fit of agitation and now he tried to smooth out the corners just to have something to do.
“So are you, Sir?”
“What?” He asked distractedly.
“Still interested?” Her tone was too casual and Lex could easily understand the underlying warning. Was he though? Interested in Clark Kent…probably. The man’s alter ego, however, was not a simple issue. Lex’s gaze ran over the lines; he contemplated but it was all just pretend. He knew the answer as soon as he saw the numbers. He shrugged and Mercy heaved a sigh. She too, knew the answer already.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” She said and turned to leave. “Just…be careful.”
Lex waited until the door closed behind her to dial the number.
I'm back again with another prompt XD something very tropey we haven't seen yet in the BvS fandom: Lex sick fic! Just Lex being sick and being looked after: maybe by Mercy, Bruce, Clark, anyone! Thanks again for your incredible work, you're an absolute treasure in this fandom <3
Hi there! Always happy to get a prompt from you:D
I think this came out a little shipper-ish, which was not my original intention, but then I realized you probably won’t mind, so…;)
“You looklike shit.”
Lex wincedand let the sarcasm run on automat. “Wow, thanks.” Glared at Mercy over hiscomputer screen. “You know I’ve fired people for less.”
Sheshrugged, a move so easy in its practiced elegance, and carefully loweredherself into a chair. “I’m aware. However I know that you haven’t fired anyonepersonally in ages. You so enjoy delegating it to me. And also,” her eyesgleamed behind the black frames. “You won’t fire me.”
“That isterribly self-assured of you.” Lex had to squint to make out the small lines oftext on the screen, but he pressed on, resolute to beat down this lab reportinto submission. He had a staff full of lab rats to do that for him, but withhis most ‘delicate’ experiments Lex preferred to deal himself.
“You can’trun this company without me.” Mercy replied smugly. She was beautiful asalways, a dark suit all made of sharp lines accentuated the slight frame but inno way made her look weak. Graceful even draped over the uncomfortable guestchair, she watched him attentively. Lex had no way of knowing what those darkeyes saw, but they obviously were displeased with the sight. “What are youworking on?”
“Lab reportfrom today’s session.”
“Any luck?”
“There isno luck in science.” Lex growled. His voice, low in anger, scratched his throatand turned into a cough on the way out. As it started, it was impossible tostop and Lex doubled over in his chair, gripping the desktop with one hand sohard his fingers turned white. Mercy watched on how he practically splutteredhis guts out impassively and only leaned over the desk to offer a handkerchief.
As thecoughing subsided Lex wiped at his lips and fell back in the chair, trying tocatch his breath. Every lungful made his chest hurt. Still with one hand hereached for the keyboard.
“Well, thatsounded horrible.” Mercy’s comment was no much louder than his weak attempt attyping; hitting one key at a time with fingers that had almost no strength inthem. His vision might have been getting blurry. “Such an important report thatmust be.”
“I need tofinish this.”
“Apparently.”Her face, usually set in one expression of slight contempt, could be veryarticulate when she allowed it. This time, her eyebrows rose questioningly andlips pursed in displeasure the moment Lex’s eyes lifted up from the screen. Acarefully crafted emotion set in her attractive features – her way of makinghim surrender. A sigh to top it off and a gentle command, “Leave it.”
Lexscoffed. “Sure, I’ll just abandon all my work simply because you say so.” With difficultyhe straightened, putting more effort into the typing. He might have mentionedthe word ‘kriptonian’ one too many times, and there might have been a ‘fuck’lost somewhere along the lines of analysis but that did not make the report anyless valid. “No need to act like you can command me.”
A sigh,deep and long suffering, grated on his nerves more than another off-handcomment could. He hit the next key with too much force and, coupled with capslock it looked like the page was screaming back at him. He was angry and tiredand this ridiculous woman was playing to get a rise out of him. Lex’s fingersclosed over the sides of the laptop and the plastic cringed under the touch.
“I’m nottrying to command you,” Mercy amended, probably realizing how close to losinghis temper Lex was. “I am however, giving you an advice. You know, the thingyou pay me to do.” Her lips, painted dark red, turned into a tentative smile. “Justleave the report. In this state, you’d only make it worse.”
Lex wouldhave loved nothing more than to destroy her with a withering glare – if only hecould figure out which one of the smirking females was real. His vision wasswimming and the world was getting softer around the edges. He felt anothercough coming but could do nothing to fight it. When the fit was over he liftedhis head to see a glass of water before him.
“Drink andlet’s go.” Mercy commanded and Lex could not find any power to snap back. Hedrowned the glass gratefully in big gulps and allowed Mercy to help him up andout of the office.
The car waswaiting outside and it started moving even before the two of them could settlein comfortably. Lex’s head fell against the back rest and he shut his eyesagainst the glare of street lamps. His head was splitting with a dull ache,seated deep at his brow, and he pushed his thumb at it, desperate to force itout.
“Here.”
Mercy’svoice sounded softer when she handed him a pill and a bottle of water. “Shouldhelp with your head.”
Lex gulpeddown the pills without looking and hoped they would work quickly. It seemed nowthat he allowed himself to feel sick the illness overtook his whole body. He feltexhausted.
Sincestaying upright proved to be a challenge, it seemed like an amazing idea toslump sideways. He ended up with his head in Mercy’s lap, her pencil skirtscratchy under his cheek. She muttered something about him being completely outof it, but could not build up enough irritation to be offended. This was oneposition that made him feel a little better.
With handshaking from exhaustion he reached up and gripped Mercy’s bony knee, anchoringhimself.
“You’ll behome soon,” a calming voice promised. “Do you want me to call a doctor?”
Lex clampedhis lips together for the fear he would throw up otherwise and shook his head.He would be fine. Not the first time exhaustion and sleep deprivation gotbetter of him. Maybe a cold on top of it, but it didn’t matter. Lex had neverbeen sick for long. Sleep would be the best medicine.
“You areimpossible.” Mercy chastised, but her actions made a deep contrast to theexasperation of her words. Her fingers ran through the red curls, massagingLex’s scalp and helping to ease the pain.
Breathingcame more easily now and his grip grew slack on her knee. He was good enough tocomment, “Better now.”
“Oh, wellthen.” She jerked her knee as if to dislodge him and Lex dug his nails into thesoft skin of her thigh.
“Not thatmuch better.” A yawn swallowed all the malice from Lex’s voice.
His lidswere heavy and body lax with the drowsiness, but he could not fall asleep yet,not until he was safe in his own bed. He knew if he closed his eyes now he’ddrop into a deep sleep in seconds and there would be no way to wake him up. Whydid he have the main facility so far away from the city? Oh yes, to conductillegal experiments on aliens. That thought made him smile.
“Hide thatcreepy grin we are almost there.”
The carjerked, coming to a stop in before the security gates, and continued smoothlydown the path to the manor. Mercy helped him out when they arrived; for a petitwoman in high heels she was surprisingly strong and dexterous, still dragging ahalf-unconscious body was not so easy. Thankfully, Lex missed out on their tripacross the manor corridors, only getting flashes of recognition every secondmoment. He only became aware of his surroundings when he blissfully flopped facefirst into a bed. The bed. His own huge and unbelievably comfortable bed.
Mercy stoodover him with her arms crossed, clearly judging, but Lex merely curled up ontop of the covers. Her amused huff was the right signal he needed to realize hewas in safe environment and finally allowed to relax.
“Thankyou.” His gratitude got smothered by a pillow he buried his face in, but he wassure Mercy understood the sentiment.
Theclicking of her heels as she left him to rest carried him out into sleep.
Hi! I don't know if you're still taking prompts,but if you are I would love it if you could write something where Lex is getting publicly courted by some other superpowered villain and Clark is super duper jealous while Lex just hams it up.
Hi! I’m always happy to get a promt:) And I loved yours!
Though I admit, I did something terrible…I chose a Marvel vilain! Ugh, Silver Surfer confused me, and for a moment I thought Fantastic Four was DC and by the time I realized they weren’t…I was already too much into the idea of using Victor von DoomXD And we already have a very nice visual of him - I imagined Toby Kebbell (can’t say I enjoyed the last movie but I somehwat liked his Doom). I kind of incorporated some aspects of his story line from the movie, but rather vaguely. I did had a lot of fun writing this!:D
Also I had to add some OCs, I hope no one minds them.
One more thing: mcnstermama, I’m ready to pay for my carelesness and, if you want you can send in my ask a random DC villain, and preferably a situation, and I’ll write you a short (crack-ish) fic that will go with the same prompt;)
(Side note: I usually fill \prompts in the order I get them, but I’m having some trouble with the first one, and so working on some others at the same time.)
Clark washanging around LexCorp building for over an hour already, wasting time, if you askedhim; ‘gathering intel’ if one were to believe Lois Lane. Clark had other,significantly more efficient methods of getting information but, as arespectful journalist with absolutely no double life, he had to follow somerules. Expectedly that included loitering around LexCorp, hoping for a chancemeeting with the CEO to ask questions he already knew the answers to.
Passers-by paidhim little to no attention and the security guard on duty that day just noddedin greeting and proceeded to ignore the journalist. Ed was a good guy, Clarkknew. They were on good terms and sometimes, when Clark was on loitering dutyon a rainy day Ed even let him hide out in the lobby. In exchange Clark got himcupcakes from a coffee shop two blocks down. It was a profitable partnershipfor both of them.
Who Ed waseyeing up suspiciously though and, coincidentally, who people waking by ogledwith open interest was a guy, standing on a sidewalk, leaning on his bike withcasualty that was too graceful to be natural. His eyes where mostly glued to aphone in his hands, a sleek expensive model Clark could see even from afar, butoccasionally his glance would snap up to check the LexCorp entrance. He wasobviously waiting for someone, entertaining himself with a round of Angry Birdsin his elegantly crafted boredom.
There was arough attractiveness to this young man: dark jeans with a leather jacket, alight scruff on his face and the whole air of a careless bad boy. Not Clark’stype but he could certainly understand why women who passed by sent him pointedsmiles and sly glances. However, the man ignored them all in favor of his watchand his game. Despite himself, Clark was growing curious as to who the man waswaiting for.
He was alsoentertaining the idea of going a round of Angry Birds himself, but fortunatelyhe heard Lex’s voice growing near, shooting off some last-minute instructionsto Mercy before leaving for the day. Apparently, supervillains liked havingtheir Friday nights off.
Clark shiftedin his place, getting ready to pounce and, as soon as Lex was out and the glassdoors of LexCorp had not even shut properly in his wake, Clark was alreadyblocking his path and shouting out a question to his face. Had Clark mentionedalready he was not very good with this journalistic ambush thing?
“Mister Luthor,is it true your company is helping out the Baxter foundation with theirresearch?”
Clark was muchbetter with physical ambushes, but this was neither the time nor the place.
Lex stumbled toan abrupt stop, almost colliding with Clark, and lifted his huge incredulouseyes at the journalist.
“Mister Kent…”He enunciated very slowly, catching up to the situation. “Clark.” He said afterhaving processed the question. A very pronounced eye roll made a quickappearance before Lex was trying to side step him and move on. “I think I askedyou to call me Lex. I think you even accepted my offer. Finally.”
“That’s not…”Superman called Lex Luthor by his first name, Clark Kent was wont to actprofessionally. “Is LexCorp collaborating with Baxter foundation?”
“I don’t seehow that’s any of your business, Clark.” Lex lifted his eyebrows pointedly.“Whether or not we are helping out this charitablefoundation which helps out gifted children,” Lex made a dramatic pause sothe words could settle. “Is only our business.”
Clark got hisnotebook out and pretended to write something down – he had no substantialinformation, but he hoped it might throw Lex off enough to get at leastsomething. Lex’s eyes fixed on swifts moves of Clark’s pen, as was expected,and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“If you want aninterview, you can arrange it with my PA.”
Clark snortedat that, as if Mercy Graves would let him anywhere near her boss.
“As it is-”
Clark did notget to know what insults Lex had planned for him this time because they wererudely interrupted by a joyous cry.
“Lex Luthor!There you are!”
Clark’s headsnapped up to look at the intruder – the same bored guy he had been observingearlier. Who was now striding to them, arms thrown wide and a dark grin playingin the corners of his mouth. His gaze was fixed on Lex.
“Victor?” Lexasked incredulous. “Victor Doom? Oh my…oh my god, that is so unexpected!” Asmile graced Lex’s face; a huge happy smile that made Clark instantlysuspicious. “It’s been so long! I didn’t know you were out and about again.Last I heard you were leading a life of a hermit. A brilliant hermit of course,but rather against the outside world.”
The man, Victor– Clark would have to find out more about him later – drew Lex into a loose hugupon his approach. “I was offered an interesting project. You know I lovescience more than I hate socializing.”
“That’s afamiliar feeling,” Lex moved out of the embrace but did not go far and shook afinger in front of the man’s face good-naturedly. Clark noticed that this Victorguy’s arm was still thrown carelessly around Lex’s shoulders.
“I have been intown looking for some spare parts for the project and figured I should come byto see you.”
“That was amarvelous idea!” Lex practically beamed. Then he suddenly snapped out his happytrance with a full body startle and a wave of his hand. “Oh my god, where aremy manners.” He suddenly exclaimed; finally, finally, his attention returned toClark. “Victor meet Clark Kent, he is a reporter.”
“So that’s whyhe is stalking you?” His eyes swept over Clark’s figure, face scrunched into afrown.
“Clark, this isVictor von Doom.” Lex continued enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled withexcitement and his hand would not hold still, he waved around, flexed hisfingers, ran them through his hair and then again to smooth out the mess hemade. “An old friend.” He added as an after-thought.
“Nice to meetyou,” Clark nodded stiffly, pages of the notebook were becoming crumpled in hishand. “So what do you do, Mr. Doom?” Well, that sounded ridiculous. Clarkwondered if the name was even real.
“This andthat,” Victor shrugged and turned to Lex. “I dropped by to take you for a ride.You still have your bike, right?”
“Oh I’ve gotsomething better now. Custom made, I added some features myself.” Lex announcedproudly.
“Sounds fun,”Victor smirked. Clark expected him start waggling his eyebrows any moment now.He wasn’t impressed, very much unlike Lex, it seemed.
“Amazing!Let’s…” Lex hesitated, his gaze jumping to Clark in a moment of consideration.Clark held his breath, waiting for his decision expecting…he had no idea what,and why was Lex’s reaction so important right at that moment. Lex bit his lip, hiseyes held a question Clark could not understand. “Alright!” Lex exclaimedfinally with a nod. “Alright.”
He allowedVictor lead him away with a hand comfortably settled between his shoulderblades.
“Bye, Clark!You know the drill, no comment and all that.” Lex sent him one last glancebefore getting engrossed in the conversation with his ‘old friend’. Clarkwatched him go with unexpected feeling of despondency. A pencil snapped in twoin his hand.
“Who the hellis Doom?” Was the first thing out of Clark’s mouth when he entered the DailyPlanet offices.
Lois looked upover her computer screen. “A crazy new supervillain with a very unfortunatename?”
“What? No.”Clark threw his satchel over the back of his chair and it wobbled dangerously.“Victor Doom. I’m pretty sure it’s a real name.”
“Poor guy,”Lois teased softly, but then took in Clark’s ruffled look and decided to takepity on him. “Victor Doom, you say?” She repeated as her hands flew over thekeys when she logged into a data base and started a search.
“Yes.” Clarkreplied tersely.
“What had hedone?” Lois asked curiously. She frowned at her computer screen and clicked ona different link.
“He is a friendof Lex Luthor.”
Lois leanedback in her chair suddenly, her inquiring gaze boring into Clark. “You thinkthey are…planning something together?”
Clark wouldhave preferred not to think about what plans those two might have together, but obviously Lois was talkingabout a different thing entirely.
“I’m not sure.Lex refused to comment on the matter I was working on, and then this guyswooped in…I just didn’t like the look of him.”
“Well, thatsounds ominous.” Lois teased but got back to work. “I’ve found one Victor vonDoom. A scientist. Some kind of a prodigy actually.” She turned the screen soClark could take a look. A familiar smug face stared back at him. “Is it theguy?”
Clark noddedfor fear if he opened his mouth he would not have been able to keep the expletivesout.
“Seems legitenough. No big criminal activity on the side. At least at the first glance.”Lois shrugged.
“Does Lex looklike he has an evil business on the side?” Clark asked snidely. He instantlyrealized he was so wound up over practically nothing and taking it out on hisbest friend was not the way. “Sorry.” He slumped into his seat. “I don’t knowwhat’s with me today.”
He missedLois’s all-knowing smirk. Maybe that was for the best.
Clark wasmaking his rounds over the city, enjoying the chilly night wind and theconstant hum of the people’s chatter below. It was late but Metropolis was fullof life, chitchat and music, shouts of partygoers and soft mutters of those whopreferred comforts of their homes. It filled Clark’s mind, clearing it from thestress of the day. Lex Luthor was just one of those voices below. Maybe Clarkwas looking too much into this, as Lois had said and rolled her eyes at him,heavily. Clark wasn’t prone to overreacting, but it had to happen from time totime, right? Maybe Bruce was just rubbing off on him. After all if you spendtoo much time with a maniac with heavy trust issues, you gotta pick up at leastsome of that…
Clark’s patroltook him to the center of the city again, he found himself unable to stray toofar from LexCorp tower that night. There was a robbery happening just a coupleblocks away – it worked like a good distraction. Then he followed a lonelyyoung girl in a waitress uniform, making sure she got home alright. Took a lostkitten from the rooftop back to its owner, a lovely old lady who offered himtea and cookies despite it being such a late hour. He hang around her buildingfor some time, perched on the roof and watched Diana stop a street fight in thedistance. She waved at him friendly before flying away. It was a nice night. Atleast until he noticed a familiar bike parked in front of a Chinese restaurantclose by. By its side was another one – a huge bike, all sharp lines and edgespainted in silver. This one, he remembered, belonged to Doom. The guy was aforeigner, Lois had said, took part in different secret research projects.Might have ties to some criminals, she reluctantly admitted, but there was noimmediate proof.
Angry athimself for falling into this again, Clark glided to a building right acrossthe restaurant. Through the window he could see Lex with his ‘old friend’;somehow he added the quotes every time the phrase flashed through his mind –probably just to torture himself. They were talking, laughing, enjoying thefood. Clark knew Lex loved Chinese, a careful research (if you can call readingall the Lex Luthor magazine articles ever published research) showed he was ahuge fan of Asian cuisine and even briefly had a Chinese chef at his residence.The man was later fired along with the biggest part of the staff though, mostlikely because Lex wanted to keep his privacy, or as Lois stated, too manypeople prevented him from thinking up evil plans at home. Clark figured thetruth laid somewhere in the middle.
“So will youfinally tell me what brought you to Metropolis?”
Instead ofcontemplating Lex’s favorite foods and feeling even more pathetic than healready did, Clark tuned in to the conversation inside the restaurant.
“I wanted tosee you?” Victor replied, but it sounded more like a teasing question.
“I’m not buyingthat.” Clark could hear Lex chuckle.
“Alright,”Victor spread his hands. “I needed some parts for my project, as I said thismorning. But I also wanted your computer to run some calculations.”
“Your lab doesnot have enough power for that?” Lex frowned.
“They do,”Victor replied brusquely. “But I’d prefer they don’t know about myside-project.”
“Oh,” Lexbreathed out. Even from afar Clark could recognized his pleased smile. “Andhere I thought you were keeping to the straight and narrow now.”
“Not reallystraight.”
Clark burnedwith sudden fury when he noticed Victor’s hand sneak over the tabletop andgrasp Lex’s. He tried to reign the feeling in, hands digging into the bricks ofthe roof but it was already too late – he managed to set their tablecloth onfire. Lex sprang to his feet, along with his companion, but instead of shoutingfor help he looked straight through the big restaurant window, his eyessearching. Clark ducked and hoped he had not been noticed. His heart waspounding in his throat, either from residing anger or from fear of discovery.He stayed hidden for some time, unwittingly still listening in on how Lex andhis companion packed up and left; they lingered on the sidewalk though. Bothstood in silence and Clark peeked over to catch a glance. Instead he caught andeyeful.
Clark was sureLex’s glance flicked to his hiding place, before his face settled into aresolute frown and the redhead tugged his companion into a sudden kiss. Clarkturned away before he could see more.
“Drop byLexCorp tomorrow,” Lex was saying next, slightly out of breath. “We’ll seeabout those calculations.”
“Sure,” Victorretorted, a smirk in his voice.
Clark sathidden on the roof, bright red from anger and embarrassment and wondered howone can make a world like ‘calculations’ sound suggestive.
Next morningfound Clark lurking around LexCorp building again. Only because Perry wouldhave his balls, or send him back to sports section which would be much worse,if Clark did not bring him any noteworthy material.
“Clark!” This timeit was Lex who approached him first. “Good morning. To what do I owe thispleasure?”
“Morning. Andyou already know why I’m here.”
“Do I?” Lex hida smile behind a paper cup as he took a sip of his morning coffee. “I admit Ihave my suspicions…” He winked.
“There arerumors about how a recent LexCorp project might be threatening the city, if notthe whole planet.” Clark said before Lex can come up with suggestions.
“That’s…definitelynot what I had been thinking about.”
Clark couldbet. Then again, he’d lose instantly. So he prowled on. “I have information youare collaborating with Victor von Doom; he is known for his radical approach toscience.”
“Oh, I amcollaborating with Victor, alright.” Lex nodded, looking very serious andsomber, but then his face split into a grin. “But that’s more of a news for thegossip column. As far as I know society pages are not your specialty?”
Clark gulped,uneasy. It was terrible enough that he felt this way but for Lex to know? Thatwould be a disaster. “I have a source.”
“Who?”
“He prefers tostay anonymous.”
“Is that thecase? Or is it because you know how the government feels about Supermanlistening in on private conversations?”
Clark pretendednot to get the implication. “Any comments?”
Lex looked up,as if searching for an answer and shrugged. “Nope. Nothing comes to mind.” Thenhis sly eyes settled on Clark. “Is there anything else you would like to say?”
“What?”
“Anyconfessions to make?” He shrugged, his tone was light and body languagecareless, but his eyes bore into Clark as if he wanted to drill a messagestraight into Clark’s head. Obviously, Clark pretended he had no idea.
“So nothingcomes to mind?” Lex inquired in the same fashion. “Alright.” It looked like hewas trying to suppress a sigh. “Alright.”
Clark felt thedisappointment roll off him in waves and bit down on a reply he would regret.
“We’ll I’ve gota company to run and a coffee date to catch. See you around.”
And he wentaway, leaving Clark alone on the side-walk with a bitter taste of missedopportunity in his mouth.
“Kent!”
Clark startledat the sound of his name, but took an opportunity of distraction happily –anything better than a football article Perry pushed on him.
“Kent!”
He lookedaround to see who wanted his attention so persistently. “On your left,” Loiswhispered helpfully.
“Kent!”
By the timeClark turned a polite smile was already plastered on his face. It was Janinefrom society pages and she was waving her tablet at him. “You are our residentLuthor expert, right?”
Clark did notget a chance to deny, or even question, the accusation, as she was shoving thetablet under his nose and continuing. “Is it true that the mad genius has a newboy-toy?” Clark finally looked down at the picture she was so insistentlytrying to show him. In it were Lex and Victor in a coffee shop; the place wasexaggeratedly cute, with pastel colors and flower patterns on the walls. It didnot suit either of them but the atmosphere allowed putting a romanticperspective on the coffee date.
“Lex Luthor hasa new boyfriend?” Lois piped up from her station.
“Allegedly.”Janine threw brusquely. She was towering over Clark, standing by his table andpractically breathing down his neck.
Lois hummed andmuttered under her breath so only Clark would hear. “This explains a lot. Youare so transparent, Clark.”
He scowled atLois but of course Janine had to think it was addressed to her. “So Kent? Youare the one constantly stalking the man. Let’s finally get something usefulfrom your obsession.”
Clark choked onthin air and glared at Janine; she was not his boss to treat him this way. Butshe was invading his personal space and tapping her heels impatiently, so hereplied. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? That’sthe best you can do?”
“There aresome…clues,” Clark tried very hard not remember that kiss last night. “Pointingto that.”
Janine clickedher tongue and nodded to herself. “Perry!” She shouted through the whole floor,making Clark cringe. “I’m gonna need the front page! Lex Luthor has a newbeau!”
“That’s not thefirst page material, Janine!” Perry stepped out of his office but still had toshout to be heard.
“Yes it is!”The woman shouted back insistently. At least she stepped away from Clark’s deskto continue her bickering.
Clark slumpedin his seat and let his head rest on the tabletop. He didn’t dare hit hisforehead on the wood for the fear of breaking it. A paper ball hit him in thetemple.
“You arehopeless, Kent.” Lois laughed softly at his misery.
“Superman,there seems to be some criminal activity at the harbor.” Diana’s voice in hisear was clear with a shade of amusement. “I think I saw a LexCorp van, so I’mleaving this problem to you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Dianasounded hesitant. “I talked to Lois today…”
“And?” Clarkasked carefully, cautious of a conversation he was not ready to have. Dianamust have picked up on that.
“Nothing.Everything is good.” She reassured. “Now go deal with your problem.”
Clark had halfa mind to grumble something along the lines of ‘When did Lex Luthor became myproblem?’ but that was a can of worms he didn’t want to open yet. Obediently heturned in the direction of the harbor. Gotham lights shone in the distance,ominous as always and Clark hoped Bruce was doing fine that night.
The oldabandoned pier was alive with activity: a couple of cars still running, a boatand a small group of people. Clark picked Lex out of the crowd easily as wellas Victor von Doom at his side. They were speaking softly, but Clark didn’t getto hear about what. His approach was quickly noticed and all the attentionturned to the sky. Clark evaded a shot gracefully but the fire stopped at Lex’scommand. He was allowed to land in the midst of Lex’s security. Those were menin protective gear but Clark knew the only person he should really be cautiousof was a petit girl in a business suit, who was standing just behind her boss,seeming completely relaxed.
“What the hellis that?” Victor’s loud outburst broke the tense silence.
Lex’s smilecould have overshadowed the Cheshire’s grin, “That’s our resident hero.Superman!” He announced with a flourish; disdain leaked into his voice. He wasdefinitely pleased with Victor’s derisive snort.
“Hero?”
“You don’t havethose?” Lex asked, playing up his disbelief. “But what do you do for fun?”
“Thankfully,there are not people running around in tights where I come from.”
Clark glared atthe man and, deciding to hell with it, sent a heat ray that just about missedthe asshole’s head and singed the tips of his hair. Victor didn’t flinch but diddrop the bravado.
“What is goingon?” Clark asked, looking around.
It was Lex whoreplied, “Nothing shady, if that’s what you are implying.” He tilted his headto the side, daring Clark to go on. “A small business transaction. A simplemeeting of friends.” He put special stress on the last word. Clark ground histeeth together.
“Whose boat isthat?”
“Mine,” Victorshrugged.
It was alreadyloaded, Clark could see. It looked like the cargo hold was filled with somemetallic parts. Clark figured it would be safer to just sink the whole thingdown; not that he wouldn’t have the additional pleasure of seeing the anguishcontort Victor’s face.
On the otherhand, he didn’t have much time for observing as, the moment the boat caughtfire and Victor cried out in distress, Clark was rushing forward, grabbing Lexand getting airborne. Surprisingly, the bodyguard just watched on and waved hermanicured hand at them.
“Is this anarrest or an elopement?” Lex asked off-handedly. He was sounding a littlewinded, thrown over Superman’s shoulder like that, but otherwise prettyunconcerned.
“We’ll see.”Clark replied, mostly because he had not decided yet.
“Oh, alright.Take me away, oh mighty hero.”
In any case,Clark decided, handcuffs would probably be involved. And maybe a gag.
A/N: The second of the three prompts I got from morriganwarrior. I extended it a little bit beyond the scene you described, and it connects with the previous prompt fill, in a way. Hope you like it!
I’m still happy to accept prompts (gen, Clois, Wonderlane, Wonderbat). Feel free to message me or send me an ask.
“I think we can help each other.”
Lois shoots Bruce a dubious look. He doesn’t look at all fazed by it, and she sort of hates him for that.
“Help how?” she asks.
He shrugs. “I’ve read some of your work, Ms. Lane. I know you’ve got a keen eye for when something’s amiss, and I know that you’re willing to get your hands dirty to expose the truth. You’ve got persistence and determination, and good judgment when it comes to telling stories. We could use someone like you.”
By ‘we’, she suspects that he means himself and Diana, who is currently on a leisurely stroll around the Kent family property (probably waiting for Bruce so that they can do their whole... superhero hunting thing).
“I don’t really see what I get out of it,” she states.
“My resources, at your disposal. Any lead that you want to follow up on - for a story, anything - I can help you with that. You might not have to charge headfirst into danger to get there.”
Lois angles her body away from him, staring over at the cemetery. She thinks she can see Clark’s grave from here.
“I’ll think about it,” she answers at last.
Bruce nods. “That’s all I can ask.”
She’s given a week of paid leave before Perry asks her to come back to the Planet, and when she does, she’s in a better situation work-wise than she’s ever been before.
Stories that really matter - about the awareness surrounding a small town in Michigan and how they don’t have clean water, or about the situation surrounding the Panama Papers - all but fall into her lap. It’s in no small thanks to Bruce and Diana that she manages to get so much detailed information on these incidents, and Perry is stunned by the articles she puts forth. She spends the first couple of weeks exposing more and more of LexCorp’s dirty work, immensely satisfied when readership of those articles is through the roof.
It’s easier when she’s able to work until she feels numb, and then collapse into bed at the end of the day and just sleep. Ordinarily her workday would end at the normal five o’ clock time, but these days she tends to stop by Wayne Manor.
On this particular day, she greets Alfred and follows him down to the Batcave (it’s such a juvenile name, but there’s really nothing else it could be called).
“Master Wayne and Miss Prince are away,” Alfred tells her, “But he’s sent a few things for you to look at.”
It’s a record from Central City - about a string of thwarted robberies. Lois pages through the list, already knowing that Bruce and Diana are investigating one Barry Allen, and marks off which ones she thinks are the work of the Flash and which ones are just the robbers getting cold feet. She then spends her time using the Wayne computers to do more research on the outsourcing of labor by American clothing companies. She works until she realizes that it’s one in the morning, and she should really be getting some sleep.
The apartment (not home; it probably won’t ever feel like home again) is dark and silent when she gets back. She doesn’t bother turning on the lights in the living room, navigating her way around the couches and dumping her bag on the ground next to one of the standing lamps.
Clark’s shoes are still in the foyer. She hasn’t touched his stuff since...
Putting that thought out of her mind, Lois changes into her pajamas and goes to bed.
Weekends are the worst.
Well, maybe not the worst - every other weekend Lois has a standing invitation to the Kent family farm, and it helps lighten the weight in her chest whenever she gets to spend time with Martha. But the weekends when she’s at home...
She tried to convince Bruce to let her help him at the manor on weekends, but he’d put his foot down.
“You need to get some rest,” he told her, tone brooking no argument. “Alfred tells me how long you stay every night.”
It makes Lois want to scream, because the last thing she wants to do is be alone with her thoughts, but she forces herself to move. Once something of a slob, she now cleans the apartment thoroughly on Saturdays. She throws all of the whites in the washer and scrubs at the stove, even though it’s barely used.
She’s been reduced to cleaning out the inside of the microwave before she finally gives up on finding new things that need to be washed. She takes the clothes out of the drier and folds them, again hating the silence that pervades the apartment.
It figures that the thing that has turned her into a complete workaholic - and a better journalist than she’s ever been before - is grief.
On impulse, she slips into one of Clark’s shirts. It fits horribly, but the flannel is warm, at least. It’s one of the shirts that she used to make fun of him for, to which he would reply, “Hey, do I make fun of you for your terrible hats?”
Lois’ mouth had worked silently in outrage before she finally said, “My hats are not terrible!”
“Don’t get me wrong, they fit great, but I don’t see the appeal of the neon colors.”
Lois chokes out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, and is almost worse than the silence of the apartment.
She decides to get to work on the rough draft for her next article, fitting together facts and quotes on her laptop until she has something that’s half-cohesive in front of her eyes. She’s pretty sure that everyone who knows her would frown on her for doing this when she’s supposed to be, in Bruce’s words, ‘resting’, but she finds it difficult to care.
Someone knocks at the door. Visitors are about the last thing Lois needs right now, so she ignores it.
She agonizes over the decision to include the Oxford comma or not, since there’s a phrase which could easily be misinterpreted without it, when the knock comes again.
There’s no reason for whoever it is to believe that she’s home. Lois rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t move. Next time she might be bothered to open the door and tell the person to fuck off.
The third knock is a lot more startling, for one reason: it doesn’t come from her door.
Lois sighs. Diana has done this before (because Diana likes to show off), but she almost always calls first. A tingle of worry curls in Lois’ stomach - if Diana didn’t call, then that must mean that there’s something seriously wrong. Maybe Lex escaped from prison. Or they’ve finally managed to convince one of the metahumans to join their cause.
She’s about to pull back the curtain when a voice on the other side says, “Lois?”
Lois freezes.
This is the part she’d been dreading - the part when her lack of sleep caught up to her, and she started imagining things.
The voice pipes up again. “Is that my shirt?”
Lois draws back the curtain, fully expecting to see nothing apart from the cityscape. And yet there he is - wearing a shirt that’s practically identical to the one she has on, albeit a different color. The part of her brain that is still functioning says that his meager fashion sense survived his death; the rest of Lois’ brain tells that part to shut up.
She opens the door with mechanical movements.
“Tell me I’m not going crazy,” she says flatly.
“Um...” He surveys their surroundings, both eyebrows going up. “Well, the apartment is clean, so I’m not sure I can say that.”
Her jaw drops. Clark is standing in front of her (still probably hallucinating), apparently very much alive unless he’s a zombie or something, and he’s making a goddamn joke.
“You might want to stand back,” she finally says.
“...why?”
“Because I’m going to punch you.”
Clark doesn’t move. Lois punches him - in the chest, because punching him in the face would probably break her hand - and is surprised when she sees that his wince is genuine.
He’s also solid. Well. So much for hallucinating.
“You’re still hurt, aren’t you?” she asks. It’s less of a question than it is a statement.
“Maybe?” he says. “A little?”
For once, her stripping his shirt off has nothing to do with running her hands over his pecs. There’s a massive, horrific scar there, but at least it’s not a hole. She buttons his shirt up again for him, aware that there’s probably a matching one on his back.
“I’m - “ It’s like she’s struggling to breathe, all of a sudden. “I think... I need to use the bathroom.”
He doesn’t say anything while she stumbles around him. She doesn’t lock the door behind her, and she doesn’t really need to use the toilet, but she suddenly finds herself curled up on the floor, gasping out sobs. She doesn’t really know if they’re sobs of relief or if all of the grief she should’ve been doing over the past month is catching up with her.
It’s probably both.
Clark eventually opens the bathroom door, right around the time when she’s feeling her eyes finally start to dry out. He rests a tentative hand on her shoulder and, when she doesn’t push him away, scoops her up and carries her into the bedroom. It’s when he gently sets her down and then proceeds to curl around her, his frame solid and familiar, that the realization finally hits her and she’s crying all over again.
He doesn’t say anything, but his grip tightens.
Lois struggles to regain control of herself, and when she finally succeeds she says, “I hope you’ve spoken with your mother.”
“I did,” he answers. “I didn’t really want her freaking out when she saw the hole where my grave used to be.”
There are so many legitimate reasons why anyone would be freaked out by that that Lois can’t bring herself to laugh.
“Good,” she says. Martha, who has been nothing but kind to Lois, deserves that much.
“Heard you’ve been giving LexCorp hell,” he tells her. “Stocks are plummeting. I don’t see them coming back from this.”
“Well, short of bashing Lex Luthor’s head against the wall of his cell, there wasn’t much else I could do.”
That brutal truth leaves her mouth without her permission, and she tilts her head up to stare at Clark. Lois knows that that kind of violence isn’t exactly something he approves of, but he’s just staring at her with a gentle look on his face.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says.
‘Okay’ isn’t really the word for it - Lois knows full well that she’s been coping terribly. She wonders if she would have ever recovered and gone back to something resembling a more normal life, then firmly decides that it doesn’t matter. Clark doesn’t need to know just how not okay she’s been. He’s here now, and that’s what matters.
ripped at every edge - bvs - wonderbat (bruce wayne/diana prince)
She dents the walls he has carefully constructed around himself in an instant. All it takes is that casual quirk of her lips before she says, “This is then. The famous batcave?”
otherwise known as, i was craving post bvs wonderbat fic, could not find it, so i wrote it myself.
