xparrot | Fic: All the Difference, part 7

To quote my old anime club - "Ewww, heterosexuality!" Yes, warnings for a bit of plot-related het in this chapter (this thing does in fact have a plot, as such; it just took me this long to get to it...) Thanks to

gnine for the beta.

Smallville: All the Difference, 7/? {4,961 words}
PG-13, Clark/Lex, futurefic, AU (in a manner of speaking)
Lex Luthor wakes up in his own bed in his own penthouse, infinitely far from all he knows. Meanwhile, Lex Luthor wakes up in his own bed in his own penthouse, just as far from home...

All the Difference (7/?)

"What are you up to, Lex?"

It wasn't the first time Lex had been paid a visit by Gotham's resident lunatic in black. Except that customarily Batman came through the window, not the office door, and didn't bother with an appointment. And his usual costume wasn't a double-breasted suit.

But mask or not, there was precious little of Bruce Wayne in the man who entered. And it was after dark. "Isn't it time for you to be out haunting rooftops?" Lex inquired as Wayne closed the door behind him.

"Clark should be back later tonight. Current ETA is in an hour and a half."

"So you didn't come across town to discuss a charity auction, but to be a messenger boy."

"I came because Clark asked me to check up on you," Wayne said bluntly. "And from what I've seen, he had reason to ask."

"And what have you seen?" Lex took care to keep any real accusation from his voice. So Wayne had been spying on him. He couldn't have seen much, not, say, the incomplete red-sunlight spectrum laser in the basement lab, or he would have shown up in full Bat regalia; but it was still troublesome. Better if the hero kept his distance. "Tell me, Bruce, what's your real interest in this? Just helping a coworker? Or are you hoping to catch me dallying, and you'd be right there to comfort your...friend, when I don't prove good enough for him?"

Bruce didn't blink. "If this were something as straightforward as philandering, Clark would know already, and it wouldn't be my concern. This isn't any personal affair." He set his briefcase down on the desktop and folded his arms, powerful frame straining the trim lines of his suit jacket. "You've logged a lot of time on the League computers in the last two days."

Lex nodded, unsurprised. The Batman was one of the more electronic-savvy League members, and Lex had expected he was their unofficial network administrator.

Judging by the familiar configuration of the firewalls and other protocols in the Watchtower's system, Lex occasionally handled the network himself. It gave him a ready alibi, one which he had been careful to establish support for in his sessions. "I was double-checking the security. There's been a few attempted breaches in LexCorp's system recently, and I wanted to make sure yours didn't have the same vulnerabilities. There's so much sensitive data in your files." And that was an understatement, if anything. "It would be unfortunate if it...fell into the wrong hands."

Hacking the League's system may not have been beyond Lex's capabilities, but it had never been worth the risk before. This open access was beyond his wildest wishes. Even if the files hadn't actually included a directory of the superhero members and their secret identities (some wet dreams were never destined to come true), what he had gotten trumped anything he had before. It was a shame he likely wouldn't be able to take any printouts or downloads with him across dimensions, but he had made a point of memorizing crucial elements, such as the specifics of the Watchtower and the crew rosters. There were multiple exploitable points, areas of such low risk that they didn't waste effort on defense. Already he had conceived of five plans to destroy the station, another four to take total control within six hours, given the proper resources.

But those must wait until he had the proper resources, preferably of his own corporation. For now, Lex faced Batman with the ingenuous apology of the CEO of this world's toothless LexCorp. "I hope I didn't alarm you. I was trying to update without disrupting any ongoing processes."

"Nothing was affected," Batman said, and Lex almost smiled, until he went on, "but you were doing more on the database than just security checks." Lex willed himself not to tense, as Wayne took out a folder and set it on his desk. "I traced back one of your searches through your dummy IPs. Who is Imogen Carrefour to you?"

Lex's eyebrows went up as every thought of the League went out of his head. He opened the folder.

The photograph was small and unflattering, the identification picture from a driver's license, but there was no mistaking the brunette curls, or the hazel blue eyes staring boldly out of the flat image. Even in a photo, she was so strikingly, emphatically direct.

"I promise you're not going to regret it."

He had met Imogen Carrefour nine months before, at the grand opening of the new Metropolis Public Library. The illustrious guest list had included the mayor, the governor, a senator, and the cream of the benefactor crop, of which Lex was at the top of the list, making his attendance an irritating requisite. He had outgrown his interest in parties by the time he left college, and his cynical amusement at the affectations of his so-called peers by his third wedding. The irony of the elite spending their millions on books for the public which they'd never get to reading themselves didn't sustain him through the front doors.

The champagne was barely passable, the wine was worse, and by the third round of handshakes and small talk, Lex was almost disappointed that a new volcano on the Ring of Fire was keeping Superman from making an appearance. True, he could hardly test his latest krypto-alloy chains in front of this audience, but pretending to be on civil terms with the superhero was almost as entertaining.

After an hour and a half he escaped through a door marked staff-only to the electronic resources offices, blessed silence amid rows of blank dark computer screens, all LexCorp-funded. He was considering switching one on to ensure the proper packages had been installed--most public networks in Metropolis and elsewhere were planted with hidden protocols to be enslaved into LexCorp's system, should he ever require access or the combined processor power--or else calling Mercy to have her bring the limo around. Though she probably would insist on a full two hours' performance, to be proper.

Instead he heard the latch being set on the door behind him, turned to find a woman watching him. He had noticed the tall brunette across the room before, thought he had felt her eyes on him but hadn't bothered to verify it.

"I don't work here myself," she said, "but I don't think you're library staff, Mr. Luthor."

"I paid for this room," Lex returned. "What right do you have to be here?"

"Just a concerned citizen. This invaluable resource belongs to all citizens, didn't you hear the mayor? Also I was afraid."

"Afraid of what I was up to?"

"Afraid my head was going to explode from boredom. Have you ever talked to the mayor?"

"I've had the pleasure," Lex said, taking a step closer to match her approach. This close, she was more distinctive than beautiful, strong, confident features and a lithe body to match, his age or a little younger. Her black dress was flattering but she wore little makeup and no jewelry but pearl earrings. "I admit, the Inquisitor's standards have gone up."

"I'm not a reporter," she said, and held out her hand. "Imogen Carrefour."

"Lex Luthor."

"Naturally." She smiled at him, inviting him to share the joke. Her handshake was strong, too, not coyly feminine but confident as a politician's, though it lasted a little too long, and she stroked her fingers across his palm as she withdrew. The skin wasn't quite convincing to the touch, but if she hadn't been aware of the prosthetic it didn't show.

"Wasn't that Senator Rawling's arm I saw you on earlier, Ms Carrefour?" Lex inquired.

"Dr. Carrefour, actually," she said, and shrugged. "Yes, I've been seeing Keith for a couple weeks."

"He's an upstanding gentleman," Lex said. If by 'upstanding' one meant 'stolid' and by 'gentleman' one meant 'the sexual assault charges had been dropped before going to court.' Which hadn't mattered when the journalists had gotten their claws into it. Rawlings had won the election by the skin of his teeth and a significant last-minute contribution to his campaign, courtesy of LexCorp. The man owed him.

She shrugged again, aware that the motion emphasized her assets to their full advantage. It was as subtle as a drunken prom date and as palate-cleansing as a bite of lemon after the party's stale monotony. "I'll let you in on a secret--he was just a placeholder until something better came along."

"Really, now. What did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping he would introduce me to the President," she said bluntly. "But this might be even better." And she draped her arms around his neck.

"Flattery will get you far," Lex said, more amused than aroused, surprised to smell no liquor on her breath. "Though maybe not as far as useful corporate espionage."

"Get me some good blackmail, at least?" she asked, and grinned, shameless and unaffected. "But hardly, Mr. Luthor. I'm not a conman; I'm a scientist."

"Chemistry?"

"Advanced theoretical physics."

"I see," Lex said. "I assume you've heard of LexCorp's Starsight project."

"Actually this is about the opening at Khronos Labs."

As job applications went, it was one of the more inspired efforts. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'd greatly appreciate it, Mr. Luthor."

"Lex, please, Dr. Carrefour."

"Imogen, then. Now, are you anxious to get back to flashing that ass to the crowd, or can you keep me company for a bit?"

Lex almost laughed, and that was more stimulating than her artfully light scent, or the warm curves of her body through the sheer satin. "Imogen, my dear, do you honestly think you can offer me anything I haven't seen before?"

"Maybe," she said, shrugging again, pushing close enough that he felt her breasts move against his chest. "Maybe not. You're going to find out."

She said it with absolute certainty. He almost laughed again. "I am, now?"

"You are," she told him. "Because now, if you don't, you'd always wonder. What am I? A undercover detective, an assassin, or something else? You'd think about what you might have missed, what I might've done, what you might've seen, and you'd regret not taking the chance. Not finding out the truth. But you're not a man to live with many regrets. So you're going to take it."

She grinned, sure a hunter as a tigress. Like it never occurred to her that he might refuse, like she never so much as considered how else this might turn out. "And I promise you're not going to regret it."

"Then I'll hold you to your word," Lex said, and set his hands on her hips to bring her closer.

Two days later, after verifying her credentials, Lex called to give Dr. Carrefour the position at Khronos, and took her out to dinner.

Two months after that, Imogen Carrefour disappeared. She didn't go to the lab that morning, didn't meet Lex at the penthouse that night. Her cell phone was off the grid and emails were not returned. There was no sign of foul play, and while her Metropolis apartment's lease was broken, her Gotham condo's rent had been paid through the year. But no one started living there in the next month.

Lex had done an extensive background check, as he did with all long-term lovers, so he knew that Imogen Carrefour had vanished before, though usually only for a couple weeks, and usually with prior notice. Still, for a woman living under an assumed name, it wasn't that unexpected. There was no data missing from Khronos Labs, and no signs that anything important had been passed to his competitors.

Lex didn't file a missing persons report, and considered their deal fulfilled. He regretted nothing. He hadn't thought he would ever see Imogen Carrefour again.

But then, he hadn't thought he would ever wake up in a parallel universe, married in everything but name to his greatest enemy.

"She's no one important," Lex told Batman, putting down the photo of Carrefour. "She came to see me a few days ago."

That had been a mild shock, when he had told his secretary to run a directory search on Carrefour, only to be asked, "The woman who met with you the day before yesterday? I have the number and address she left." As if missing persons regularly turned up on his appointment book.

Maybe they did in this universe. How the hell should he know? No one had answered when he tried Carrefour's number, not even voicemail.

"Had you ever met her before?" Batman asked.

Not as far as he had been able to determine. Lex had gone so far as to ask Mercy about it. The Mercy here did not seem terribly more enamored of Ms Carrefour than his own bodyguard, but didn't recall any other encounters. Only that one meeting five days ago. The day before the morning he woke up here. "As far as I know, no, I'd never met her before."

"So what did she want?"

That was the question. "She had a research proposal for me," Lex said, as his secretary had dutifully recorded.

"A research proposal?" Wayne sounded as doubtful as Lex himself, albeit for different reasons.

"Actually she was trying to blackmail me. Me and Clark," Lex told him. It sounded good, made him the victim, an implicit appeal for the superhero's help. It was also, he had concluded, the most logical scenario. There were few other reasons why he would have met in private with an unknown doctor, and kept no record of the meeting. He was practically a married man in this universe, and she wasn't that good-looking. Certainly she couldn't hold a candle to his lover.

But then, few human men or women could.

Batman was gentleman enough (foolishly trusting enough) not to press for details Lex wouldn't have been able to provide. He only nodded. "So you've been looking into her to make sure she can't cause any more trouble. Have you had any luck?"

Lex regarded Batman, wondering how suspicious it would be for him to play his cards this close to his vest with a supposed ally. Apparently not very, because Wayne cocked his head in a markedly unsurprised way, went on, "I thought as much. I haven't been able to find much myself."

"Oh?" Lex turned back to his files, scanned the papers underneath the photo. They included a listing of Carrefour's apartment building and number, and a trace of her cellular phone. Lex hadn't been able to get hold of the phone records, not knowing who his contacts at the telecommunications company were. He didn't have the same access here as he should; his counterpart self had been lax in spreading worms to significant networks. Though the trace had come up blank, this was useful. "Her cellular number was only registered seven months ago, according to this."

"Yes," Batman said. "Except this phone and the apartment aren't in the name of Imogen Carrefour. They were under--"

"Imogen Smith," Lex said. Her original name, according to his sources in his own world. There she had changed it several years before he had met her, for reasons unknown. Apparently here she had kept it, until recently.

"Yes. I assumed a name change due to marriage, but haven't found anything in the national matrimony registry. Have you?"

Lex hesitated, then decided. That Wayne would so casually assume he could intervene grated--but delegating this straightforward missing person gruntwork would leave Lex time for more important matters. Batman's detective skills were legendary; there was no reason not to use the man's implausible trust. Besides, it might distract him from Lex's other pursuits. "Imogen Smith seems to be her legal name." He called up the file on his computer, printed a copy. "I found this adoption record in Central City's files, matching the birth date on this driver's license. The Smiths lived in Worrence." No research needed for that; Imogen had told him herself about growing up in the Central City suburb. Unimportant trivia; what mattered was her current activities. But there Lex had come up blank. "I've had little luck tracking her since."

"Central City? That's more than I've found." Batman took the paper from the printer. "I can ask Wally to look into it."

"I--would appreciate that," Lex said grudgingly.

Batman nodded. "You're welcome."

Suppressing his resentment, Lex asked, "So you haven't located where she is now, have you?"

"According to her landlord, she hasn't been by her apartment in a week or so. And there's been no calls from her cell phone for five days. She might be back in the hospital again."

"The hospital?" The last couple pages in Batman's folder were photos of health insurance documents in Imogen Smith's name, recording charges to Metropolis General the month before.

"I copied those from her apartment mailbox last night," Batman said, with a commendable lack of concern for the legal or privacy issues involved. "I've requested the associate hospital records. I've also contacted local hospitals, but none of them currently have a patient named either Imogen Smith or Carrefour. No hits in the morgues, either. For all I've been able to find, this woman might as well have dropped off the face of the earth five days ago."

"You don't say," Lex said, flipping back to the phone and apartment records. It must be a habit. Seven months ago Imogen Carrefour, once known as Smith, had dropped off the face of his own earth.

Seven months ago, Imogen Smith had opened a cell phone account and signed an apartment lease, in this Metropolis.

And five days ago Imogen Carrefour had met with an alternate version of himself, and four days ago he had awoken in his alternate's existence.

Lex Luthor didn't believe in coincidence any more than he believed in God.

"Whoever this woman is, we'll find her," Batman broke into his thoughts. "And don't worry. I won't tell Clark."

Lex looked at him sharply. Wayne raised an eyebrow at him, pale blue eyes lasering through him. "Don't tell me you thought I wouldn't notice. The moment Superman leaves the solar system, you start this investigation. You've spent fifteen years trying to keep any dirty business away from Clark. Whatever this woman has on you or him obviously has you spooked."

And yet he still didn't demand the particulars. A gentleman fool indeed. "Your discretion is appreciated."

Wayne snorted. "I may not always agree with you, but if I've learned anything in the last decade, it's to trust that you've got Clark's best interests in mind. Whatever you have planned for Carrefour, I'm fairly confident it's justified." He leaned forward, ducking out of the light, and for a moment the shadows across his face mimicked a dark mask. "Should you break that confidence--remember, I'm investigating this with you."

It occurred to Lex that he ought to look into the Justice League's public standing in this world. He was operating under the principle that the superheroes were more or less the same as those he was familiar with. But Superman was bedding his nemesis; there might be other changes as significant. If this Batman's vigilantism had, say, taken a lethal bent, he should be aware.

But for now, at least, he had an ally. Lex waved his hand. "Of course. I can give you whatever else I have on her."

"If I find anything new, I'll bring it to you." They shook on it, as at ease as if they had just negotiated a business deal. With that concluded, Wayne began to leave.

"Bruce," Lex stopped him. It perhaps wasn't the wisest move, letting his curiosity get the best of him, but he had to know. "Thank you...for your trust in this. It means a lot to me."

Wayne nodded, turning back. "You've earned it, Lex. As I hope I've earned your trust."

"Of course," Lex said smoothly, and waited.

"You know I initially had...objections to your involvement in the League. As well as with Clark," Wayne said. "But that involvement has been indisputably beneficial." Honesty, humiliation; he'd be damned if that wasn't a touch of guilt, even. Lex was hard-pressed not to smirk. This was far too easy. "As for your relationship with Clark..." Wayne shook his head. "Even forgetting loyalty to a friend, as a superhero, I won't compromise something that's to the world's advantage."

Lex permitted himself an edge of a smile. "Why, Bruce, you make it sound like you wouldn't trust me if it weren't for my...relationship with Clark."

"We've had this conversation before." Wayne's laser eyes were steady on Lex. "Honestly, Lex, would you trust yourself?"

"I suppose not." Lex glanced at his watch. Any excuse to break away from Batman's stare. Retreading a familiar dialog he didn't know was dangerous ground. "I suppose you have--your night business to attend to. Clark will be back in an hour, you said?"

"Should be," Wayne confirmed. "I'll see you," and he departed. Walking out of an office was nowhere near as dramatic as the Batman's silent disappearances, but Lex was no less relieved to have him gone. The man was too smart, and knew entirely too much. Knew Lex entirely too well.

He wasn't used to anyone being able to read him. To be this intimate with at least two superheroes was more than a little jarring. Useful as their trust might be. If Batman could find him Carrefour--if Carrefour could explain what the hell was going on...

He waited fifteen minutes, then checked the various building proximity sensors. There was no sign of any caped vigilantes, though the Batman was adept at maintaining his cover. But Lex was trusted in this world, apparently. He would have to risk it. Picking up his phone, he punched the extension for the basement lab.

"Uh, yes, Mr. Luthor?" Matsumoto's voice wavered through the speaker.

"Are they ready, Doctor?"

"Uh, ready?"

"The red-light laser and stun grenade," Lex said. Matsumoto was an adequate technician; provided with the proper designs he could assemble anything with precise accuracy. Such precision did not extend beyond the mechanical or electronic, however.

"Uh," the man stammered, "neither will be ready until tomorrow morning."

"And if I told you I required them within the hour?"

"Uh," Matsumoto said, "I'd ask why, Mr. Luthor?"

Lex paused. He had never heard Matsumoto sound so...flippant. Usually the man was terrified of him.

"It's almost ten," the doctor went on, "so I'll be heading home, but don't worry, I'll be back in time to finish by noon. Uh, that's okay, right? This is a code BL-5, not an XL, right?"

Lex considered. Rating the devices as an emergency priority to rush their completion would mean bringing extra technicians onto the project. He could trust Matsumoto not to talk; the man rarely spoke more than ten words a day to anything but his computers. The more people who knew, the higher the chances that someone with the sense to guess at these devices' intent might see them. The last thing he needed was one of his own employees reporting him to the Justice League. Or worse, his lover.

"That's right," Lex said stiffly. "Tomorrow noon, then."

"Okay. Good night, Mr. Luthor."

Lex hung up, checked his watch and then folded his hands together. If only he had been able to access the kryptonite--LexCorp did have the mineral in its stores. He shouldn't have underestimated himself. But obtaining any was difficult; the restrictions on requisitions were psychotically stringent, and most of the exceptions involved Superman going berserk or other portents of the apocalypse. And any unscheduled requests, even by the CEO himself, were reported to the League.

But there were other ways to control a superhero. After making sure the proper filter was uploaded to his personal telecomputer system, Lex went home to his penthouse in anticipation of Superman's return.

The media room was more comfortable than the rest of the place, being one of the less altered spaces, provided he ignored the collection of video game consoles in one cabinet. When would a superhero have time to battle CGI foes? He refused to entertain the notion that they were his own games.

He was on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through the filtered news channels, when he felt a sudden cool draft behind him, and then strong arms encircled him, lifting him up for a kiss. "I'm back," Superman said.

"I noticed," Lex replied, trying to convince himself he was breathless from the shock and not the kiss, mostly succeeding. The balcony door was open. If it had been forced, the latch on the kryptonite compartment should have been triggered--but there was no kryptonite in this penthouse.

Superman was grinning down at him, arms looped about his waist. He was already out of costume, in a red LexCorp sweatshirt and jeans. "So ask me how it went."

"How'd it go?"

"Great!" Superman beamed. "The Fralqudi--Fralqudans--Fralqudese--they agreed to open a dialogue with the local Star Council. It'll be a while yet before they actually let an alien set foot on their planet, but they're not planning any invasions, anyway. Now what about you? How are you doing?"

"Great," Lex echoed back the hero's bright tone, thinking of the nearly completed devices in the basement lab.

"Any more dreams?"

"None," Lex said, mostly honestly. Those he had had in the few hours he had slept he didn't clearly recall anyway.

His honesty could stand to be more convincing. In this dim light Superman's eyes were greener than Batman's, the color of a tropical sea instead of arctic ice, but as piercing for all their warmth. "Lex..."

Lex could see the television screen over Superman's shoulder, out of the corner of his eye. His arms still around the hero, he tapped the remote to raise the TV's volume. The newscaster's mumble rose clearly to announce, "--scene at the Metropolis branch of the Union Bank, where three armed men have taken the night watchmen hostage."

Fortune was smiling on him. He lacked the capabilities here to arrange anything this showy on short notice, and such emergencies didn't happen everyday--though often enough, in a city where the incompetent police more often than not left it up to the local superhero. Superman stiffened, looking toward the news report.

Lex made a show of sighing. "I suppose you should go take care of that."

Superman's head turned back toward him. The television screen, now showing images of the bank lit in the MPD's spotlight, reflected in the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Go on, I'll be up waiting for you," Lex said, unwrapping his arms and giving Superman a shove on the chest that of course didn't budge him a centimeter.

"Lex," Superman said, sounding upset, "will you stop teasing me and turn off the damn TV?" Not upset; irritated. Angry, even.

"What?" Lex frowned.

The remote was removed from his hand so quickly he didn't see Superman's arm move. The hero switched off the television, cutting off the anchor mid-report, then tossed the remote down on the couch. "Lex," he said, folding his arms. "Why are you so pissed at me?"

"Bank robbery's not a big enough job for Superman?" Lex asked, archly to cover his perplexity. This should have been elementary. Superheroes were easy to manipulate with their heroism. Child's play. "Isn't there a kitten stuck up in a tree somewhere?"

The flat line of Superman's mouth twisted a little. "I've been looking but I still have yet to see a cat skeleton in a tree. And the Metropolis PD has the bank covered--the Watchtower will let me know if they do ask for help. Why? Don't tell me you're suddenly doubting the LexCorp body armor that SWAT team's got on. What's this about, Lex?"

Superman wasn't going anywhere. That much was clear from his stance, solidly planted legs and crossed arms, as he stared Lex down. He might as well have been in full cape-and-tights regalia, from the determined set of his jaw.

Except there was a bank robbery being committed blocks away, and Superman wasn't moving. Wasn't flying to the rescue. This made no sense. How could he have miscalculated so badly?

And was still miscalculating: he had been silent for too long. Superman's arms came up around him again, a warm, gentle prison stronger than steel. "Look at me," he said. "Just tell me what's going on. Please."

"Nothing's going on," Lex said, contorting his lips into a smile. "It was just a joke. I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad I'm back," Superman said, and kissed him again.

Lex kissed back, painfully aware of Superman's embrace. Those gentle arms could crush him to pulp--but God, his mouth was hot, their tongues wrestling, exploring, a gratifying give and take that owed nothing to superhuman strength and everything to human lust; and that pretended equality was intoxicating. He could make believe he had control, taming the alien by his own skill, all this power given over to him freely and eagerly. And more. Not just the alien; not only the superhero. The boy he had wanted, those pure desires from his youth in Smallville, long forgotten, abandoned; but he had claimed them here. Could take them now.

He almost allowed himself to try--but then Clark pulled away. He broke the kiss, and it was Superman abruptly staring down at Lex, his face implacable. His arms were a cage, no give when Lex tried to move within them.

"Who are you?" Superman demanded in the hero's unyielding baritone. "You're not Lex. Who the hell are you, and where is he?"

tbc...