xparrot | Fic: All the Difference, part 8

People remember it! Yay! Thank you for your patience, and my apologies for the delay, I am so very easily distracted, and my life's been busy enough to throw my writing schedule out of whack. Hoping to get back in the groove now that things are settling down again. There's a whole long ~~hideously, fiendishly hot & humid Kyoto~~ summer stretching out, and no SV to fill the void save what we make ourselves!

Regarding the next part of this story, a brief disclaimer: I have only seen select episodes of the Superman animated series. Thus, Mercy is generally writing herself, with relatively little input on her character from me.

Smallville: All the Difference, 8/? {3,438 words}
PG, 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 (8/?)

"This is me," Lex said. "Trust me, Mercy."

His bodyguard eyed him askance across his desk. She had yet to make any accusations. But he knew Mercy well enough to read the doubt in her eyes. This was...problematic. Under the circumstances he wasn't positive he could prove he was the genuine Lex Luthor. The DNA ought to match, but he was, in effect, lacking a good decade or two of memories.

"You're telling me to leave you alone here in the office yet another night," Mercy said. "After the Batman dropped by earlier, no less."

"He isn't here now," Lex pointed out. "He won't be back. Superheroes never strike twice in the same night, eh?"

"Lex," Mercy said warningly.

She never could take a joke in his universe, either. "I'll only be another hour or two, and then I'll see you back at the penthouse," Lex said.

"I've got work of my own I could finish up now, here."

"No, let it wait. Get some rest. I feel more secure knowing my bodyguard isn't sleep-deprived," Lex replied. With luck, she would be asleep before he got back.

At the very least, she wouldn't be here. He couldn't let her be a part of his present investigation. It would be far too suspicious if she realized he was investigating himself. Lex Luthor was behind this particular conundrum, of that he had no doubt; he recognized the hallmarks of his own strategies.

Despite having no available outline of said strategy. Lex always did prefer to keep his agenda in his head, where it was easier to edit than any computer or hardcopy and more secure. But it did make recreating it problematic, in the event of a cross-universe mental transference. He would have to develop a contingency protocol, later.

Now he had other concerns. Backup spreadsheets in his personal database showed altered inventories in certain LexCorp warehouses. As even in his own universe Lex was not always forthright in his reporting (federal agencies could be unfortunately unreasonable, and as his triple-redundancy hazardous radiation force-field had yet to be officially approved, what the government didn't know about certain lab equipment couldn't hurt them), he wasn't surprised by the alterations.

What concerned him was what had gone missing.

Lex had already gathered enough evidence of LexCorp's under-the-table support of arms smuggling to put himself away for two lifetimes, but this was different. The disappearance of several dozen high-powered particle beam weapons was rather more significant than a few unregistered pistols. An electron cannon had the destructive power of a Tomahawk missile and a good deal more accuracy, and there were two erased from the inventories, among a host of smaller arms. The cannons' 1.3 million dollar price tags were the least of his worries. His own LexCorp had been commissioned to develop similar weaponry in response to interplanetary threats, but he doubted that these cannons had gone to legitimate defense programs.

Wherever and whatever he had done with them, Lex was determined to find out. But not knowing who in the company might have handled the weapons' disposal, he couldn't accept anyone's assistance in tracing them. Certainly not Mercy, who probably had helped arrange any deals.

Judging by his bodyguard's expression, however, she wasn't ready for bedtime. Lex suppressed a sigh. It wasn't just this investigation, or that the more time he spent with her, the better the chances were she would notice changes in him. He wasn't used to her hovering. It was the only word for it. Mercy was an excellent employee, none better at what she did. And as a bodyguard she had to keep close. But that was in public, on the job; at home--his own home, not the sterile penthouse here--she entrusted most of her duties to Clark. Clark would assume the responsibility regardless of his respect for her professionalism; the protective instinct was inherent to Clark's nature, and times it by ten with those he cared about. Mercy had come to understand this.

But Lex had no Superman guardian here. Instead Mercy played watchdog twenty-four/seven, and while Lex appreciated the necessity--a man in his position had to be careful--it was wearing. He never minded Clark's nearness; there were non-strategic advantages to having him close. With Mercy such constant proximity was...uncomfortable.

Besides, he was running out of errands to send her on. "Mercy," Lex said gently, rising and coming around the desk to put a hand on her shoulder, choosing his words with care. "I worry about you sometimes. You know I care--ever since I hired you out of Suicide Slums, you've been more than an employee to me." Reference personal history; prove his identity to her, subtly. And count on the odds that their mutual history here was similar enough to what he knew. "You're a friend. Like family, after this long. But it concerns me that you might be too involved in your job. You're more than just Lex Luthor's bodyguard, but I worry you might forget that."

"Lex," Mercy said, her voice lowered, her eyes lowered, too, that unconquerably steady gaze overwhelmed, and damn it to hell, he had walked into something here, an unexpected sharp turn right off the map. They were standing too close--she had been persistently standing too close, and that wasn't just devotion to her duty, he realized.

Mercy had always been loyally, impressively reliable, out of gratitude for Lex having given her a chance she never might have had otherwise. It had never occurred to him that it could go beyond that. He didn't really think of her as a woman--as a human being, yes, with the rights and faculties so entitled to a person; but not the sort of human who actually...felt certain things. Like falling in love.

"Mercy," Lex began, taking his hand off her shoulder. How to apologize for this misstep?

"You don't have to tell me how you feel, I already know." Mercy raised her head, met his eyes. He was relieved to see anger flashing in hers. "This just better not be some roundabout, half-assed way of telling me I'm fired, Lex."

"It's not."

"Good. Because I'd expect better of that from you. If you're letting me go, just tell it to me straight."

"No, no, you're not fired," Lex assured her. "But what I'm doing now, you can't help me with."

"What are you doing?" Mercy folded her arms. "And yeah, I know, the only questions in a bodyguard's job description are the need-to-know. But if it's something that's going to bring trouble--like the Bat--knocking, then I need to know."

"You do," Lex agreed. "And when you need to know, I'll tell you."

Mercy looked unhappy. "That's not always good enough, Lex."

"It's going to have to be, this time." He couldn't be sure of her support; couldn't be sure that she wouldn't realize he wasn't what he seemed. Even if he actually was. Technically. In a manner of speaking.

Besides, should Mercy choose to side with him now, if or when the Lex proper to this world returned, he might not be pleased with her decision. Better not to test her loyalties either way. "You know I trust you. But for your own sake, I can't have you involved with this particular stratagem. I'm sorry."

The apology might have been too much, judging by the way Mercy's eyebrows shot up. He would be better off just ordering her to keep out of his affairs. She was unlikely to risk his wrath by invoking Protocol 86 without strong evidence. This Mercy was, if not submissive, then more subservient than his own. Used to serving a dangerous man who was unaccepting of being contradicted or refused.

"What the hell, Lex? Have you been hitting the sauce harder than usual?"

Or not. "Mercy, I realize my behavior may have appeared atypical these past few days--"

"Try the past nine months. Ever since Imogen Carrefour you've been 'atypical'."

"Imogen...Carrefour?" Lex repeated, sitting down abruptly. But he had only met her a few days ago...

"Yeah, excuse me, Dr. Carrefour," Mercy said disagreeably. "I don't know how that bitch got under your skin, whether it was her weird science or if she was just that good in bed. But you haven't been yourself since she started coming around. I thought when she pulled that disappearing act, you'd forget about her. Like you usually do," and she shot him a look Lex hoped he misinterpreted. Mixed bitterness and heartbreak wasn't really featured in his mental image of Mercy, either.

"But she got to you," Mercy went on. "Don't think I didn't notice, even if you wouldn't talk about it. Those nights up drinking, that trip back to whatsit, Littleville or whatever. I thought you were getting over it, the last few months, with the latest LexCorp ventures and the Superman plans. But then you started on this new--whatever it is. This 'particular stratagem.' Closing me out again."

So he had known the Imogen Carrefour of this world. Had dated her, apparently. Dr. Carrefour--doctor of what? The Carrefour of his own world hadn't mentioned any degree in their single brief conversation. All she had wanted had been personal. Asking questions like a reporter, but she hadn't been a journalist.

She hadn't been much of a blackmailer, either. Lex had met extortionists of all stripes, and while Carrefour had finagled the appointment with mention of several private details, when meeting with him she hadn't set any price, even obliquely. Her questions about Clark had been innocuous enough, no worse than fodder for a gossip column.

Until she had brought up Superman, so jarringly casual, asking Lex when he had learned the truth, had Clark told him or had he discovered Clark's powers on his own. Knowing far too much, and no clue given as to how, or what she intended to do with the knowledge. Lex had very nearly ordered the problem to be discreetly resolved the second the woman left his office. He had only reconsidered because Clark was unlikely to approve of such a measure, however necessary. At least not without proof of the necessity.

Lex had initiated a few inquiries to obtain such proof. Whether any of them would have come through, he didn't know, as the next morning he had woken up here, with more on his mind than amateur blackmail. Without having mentioned the matter to Clark. He felt a sudden stab of worry. Naturally he and Clark had worked out options, should his secret identity be exposed, but if that Carrefour woman was more than what she seemed, as the Carrefour of this world might be, to tell from Mercy's testimony...

"What I'm doing now is not about Carrefour," Lex said. Maybe. "But it's--difficult, to explain what it is about." Very difficult. Almost unbelievably so. Almost unbelievable.

"You could try," Mercy dared him. "With all the changes you've been making, it's obviously something big. And don't look at me like that, I'm not an idiot. Maybe I haven't gotten your memos lately, but what happens with LexCorp is my business, too, you know. If my five percent is going to take a nose-dive, I'd appreciate a head's up. For old time's sake."

"I'm not trying to kill LexCorp," Lex said.

"Good. The way the shares have been dropping, I was wondering."

Lex rubbed his forehead. "The internal policy changes have barely been reflected in the market so far. I didn't realize you'd be watching it so closely."

"I get curious. That's my retirement fund."

"You needn't worry. There may be a dip for a few quarters, but in the long run the profit margin will increase." If all went according to plan. Which didn't matter to him anyway; he had his own LexCorp to manage. But the millions of lives of employees and their families and everyone else subject to this company--that mattered. If Clark wasn't here to remind him, at least Mercy was.

"I'm not worried," Mercy denied. "I trust you, Lex, whatever you've got planned."

And she did. That trust was the dominant color in his mental illustration of Mercy, the Mercy he knew; and he saw it as clearly in the woman before him now. Whatever sort of man he was in this universe, she believed in him nonetheless. He didn't know if it pleased him or disturbed him, that he evidently was enough alike her own Lex Luthor that she could put her faith in him so readily. But having that faith felt familiar as little else in the past few days had. Reassuring.

She deserved something in return. She deserved answers. An explanation, if he dared chance it.

"Mercy," Lex said, "I rely, as always, on your discretion. As you've noticed, I've made significant changes to LexCorp's policies. I'm going to continue these implementations--some may seem drastic, but I assure you, they're necessary. This company is involved in too many...questionable activities. I've decided to end that. I'm doing everything in my power to bring LexCorp aboveboard, to make this a respectable company, off the books as well as on."

Mercy regarded him steadily. If she were puzzled, if she approved or disapproved or thought he was insane, it didn't show. "Can I ask why?"

"Yes." Lex nodded. He met her eyes. Full disclosure. "You're right, Mercy. I'm different. Not the same Lex Luthor, you could say, and LexCorp as it is...doesn't fit with my present sensibilities. It must be transformed." He folded his hands on his desk, leaned forward as he dropped his voice. "It's necessary, you see, to prepare for my upcoming presidential bid."

He was totally sincere. He had been planning to run for most of his life. While this was a few years ahead of schedule, it was nonetheless perfectly true. If not the entire story.

Mercy didn't blink. "Okay," she said. "What can I do?"

Lex smiled, leaned back in his chair to cover his involuntary sigh of relief. He couldn't involve Mercy in his investigation of the missing particle beam weapons, but that was all very well; he had another project for her. "I want you to locate Imogen Carrefour."

'Her disappearing act,' Mercy had said. Whatever that meant.

Mercy looked less than pleased. "She dropped out of sight seven months ago; why'd I be able to find her now?

This Carrefour might have been nothing more than a fling to this Lex Luthor. But his Carrefour had met with him the first time a day before he had come here. A drastic difference from her counterpart here.

And seven months ago his dreams had started. True dreams, of another world. Of this world.

Lex didn't believe in coincidence.

"I have...unfinished business with Carrefour," he said. "It's vital I resolve it now. If anyone can find her, I trust you to."

"You got it, Lex," Mercy said.

***

"You're not Lex," Superman accused. "Where is he?"

Lex didn't try to struggle in Superman's hold, pitched his voice innocent and confused. "What do you mean?" As classic a gambit as a chess opening.

"I spent the last three days telling myself I was crazy. That you were just stressed out, from the dreams or from whatever else you weren't telling me. But what you weren't telling me is that you're not Lex."

Lex recognized Superman's tightly focused glare, x-ray vision passing up and down his body, and stood perfectly still for it. "Clark," he said, all calm patience, "it's me."

"You look like Lex," Superman said. His hands were locked around Lex's upper arms, holding him immobile. "You sound like him, you smell like him--I'm willing to bet this is Lex's body," and his tone implied that was the only reason his hands weren't squeezing hard enough to crack bone. "But you're not Lex. So what is this? Spirit possession? Brain implant?"

"If you really believe I've been compromised, why not invoke Protocol 86?"

Superman blinked. "You know about that."

"Of course I do." Lex tilted up his chin, so his gaze bored into Superman's. "Look at me, Clark. I am Lex Luthor."

Superman stared back. The intensity in his blue-green eyes made Lex feel more naked and exposed than the x-ray vision. He had known Clark Kent almost two decades, nearly half his life, but in all that time Clark--Superman--had never looked at him like this. No one ever had, not one of his family or his employees or his peers or his lovers. Like he could hide nothing. Like he had nothing to hide.

He hated it, that appalling vulnerability. But Superman's hands let go of his arms and fell to his sides. "What is this, Lex?" he said. "If it is you--what the hell is going on with you?"

Lex almost might have trembled from the relief, from the release, not of the steel grip, but that stare. "It's hard to explain," he said, allowing some of that vulnerability into his tone, for effect. "I haven't...felt like myself, lately. Those dreams..." He let himself tip forward, the smallest step off-balance.

Superman was there in an instant, arms around him, supporting. "It's okay," he said, and pressed a kiss to Lex's forehead. Lex restrained his triumphant smirk, leaned into the embrace. Comfort me. Protect me. A born hero couldn't deny his instincts. This was so easy.

"Lex." Superman's voice was soft, gentle. "What did your mother give you for your eleventh birthday?"

Lex stopped himself before he caught his breath, kept the rhythm of his lungs even. In and out on cue, no sign for Superman to hear. "If you suspect me, Protocol--"

"Forget that. You should know how I feel about that protocol of yours. I just have to know. What was your present?"

Some of their history was the same. Much of it. He had to rely on that. "A lead box. Supposedly crafted by St. George. I gave it to you, shortly after we met."

"And how did we meet?"

"On Loeb Bridge, I hit you with my Porsche, and you saved my life."

For years, Clark Kent had denied that basic truth. Had refused to confess it even after all the indisputable evidence Lex had presented him. Since the advent of Superman, Lex had never bothered asking about the accident again.

Now, held in Superman's arms, Lex felt Clark nod, the simple acquiescence he had waited too many years for. "The first time we remember, anyway," he said, inexplicably. "When was the first time we kissed?"

"What?"

"When was our first kiss, Lex?" His voice was still gentle.

"I..." He put fear in his voice. Regret and pain and a lonely, heart-tugging disorientation. "I don't remember, Clark."

Superman sighed, the rise and fall of his chest moving against Lex's. "You don't know."

"I should know," and Lex was revolted by the pretend weakness in his own tone, however necessary. "But the last few days, I've...forgotten things."

"No." Superman didn't sound angry. But not gentle, either. The precision in his voice reminded Lex of nothing so much as himself, in the final step of proving a deduction. "At first I though it might be amnesia. Some kind of psychological problem, because I know how you are about those even now, how you always think you can get by. But that's not it. You know way too much. Not about me--but about LexCorp. Protocol 86, Mercy, all that."

He sighed again. "God, Lex, did you think I wouldn't notice? The way you kiss--you haven't kissed me like that for years. Not since the very beginning, when you were trying to seduce me and scare me away at the same time. Maybe when we play--but this isn't a game. I can tell.

"You were telling the truth, weren't you. You are Lex Luthor. Just not--my Lex."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lex said stiffly. He couldn't tell if there were any emotion in his voice.

Superman took Lex's face in his hands. Carefully, like he was handling something fragile and priceless. "I'm not going to hurt you, Lex. Or call your protocol down on you or blow your cover. But if I'm going to help you, I need to know. You're not from here, are you. You're from another world. The one you were dreaming about before, where we have different pasts and aren't together. So you know me, and you know LexCorp, but everything's different from what you know."

Then, bizarrely, he smiled. "So am I right?"

Lex had no fucking clue what to say.

tbc...

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Fic: All the Difference, part 8

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