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expeditious \ek-spuh-DISH-uhs\, adjective:
Characterized by or acting with speed and efficiency.
The Talon was a great front, and Lex regrets that it isn't anymore. Lately it's been more trouble than it's worth. Sloppy bookkeeping and ill-disguised "parties" make things look questionable, and he can't have that. Yeah, it'll have to go. Either that or...Well, the manager can't lie for shit and has a tendency to annoy him. "Clark, there's a problem I'd like you to take care of for me," he says. "Yeah, boss?" Lex nods in Lana's direction. "The dame's gotta go." "Yes, boss." Clark nods, smirks. He never questions Lex's orders. Lex grins in satisfaction. "And do it expeditiously."
People think that Lana’s perfect. She can tell from the way they watch, but don’t approach. And if they do approach, they’re hesitant, careful, polite. Like one mistake will reveal their unworthiness. Not fit for her presence. She always wears the necklace in plain view, and it works beautifully as a conversation piece. "Is that really from the same rock..." Sympathetic expressions and undisguised curiosity, but Lana sees the incredulity underneath, can practically hear them thinking, "Isn’t that morbid?" It is. But no one has ever voiced it. It’ll happen eventually, and until then, it still gives her a kick.
Chloe loves having the answers, instinctively sniffing out and unearthing information nobody else has. Clark relies on her innate ability to find that last crucial piece of the puzzle. Sure, he always does the saving, and she never gets due credit for her indispensable role, but she doesn’t mind so much. Blending into the background can be a valuable asset. Clark pushes Lex away with transparent lies, oblivious to the irreversible damage. Chloe watches, knowing her gift of insight is something special, a useful tool for a reporter. But so is knowing when withheld information will work to her advantage.
"What are you doing? We can’t hold hands in public," Lex hisses, batting Clark’s hand away. "People will talk." "That’s never bothered you before." "Yeah, but it should bother you. Especially since everyone will know you’re the sub." Disbelieving look. "How do you figure?" "Because whomever’s hand is in the front is the dom. That would be me." Lex grins smugly. "People assume that from how we hold hands?" "Yep." Clark shrugs. "Good thing I don’t care," he says, reaching back and grasping Lex’s hand firmly. "Hey!" Lex protests. "What? You said you don’t mind. And you’re so my bitch."
Lex knows that people all make the same sounds when they’re having sex. Nothing inventive, nothing that hasn’t been said before. Just mindless oaths, prayers, moans. "Yes!" and "Fuck!" "Oh, God!" and "Harder!" He’s said those things. He’s heard them said. All the same, nothing memorable. But it’s different with Clark. When he’s touching Clark, sucking his nipples, fisting his cock, pushing into him like coming home, it’s different. Those sounds Clark makes are his. The slap of flesh meeting flesh and Clark crying out his name seem new. Nothing that hasn’t been said before, but this time it’s Clark.
"What’s the problem here?" Lex Luthor demanded, slamming his car door shut and stalking over to the foreman. "What’s so important that I have to be here?" "That," the foreman said, pointing quickly to divert Lex’s attention. Lex did a double take when he saw the problem in the form of a tall, brunet teenager with long, shaggy hair. Chained to one of the trees. A quick glance around revealed countless other long-haired, bell-bottomed kids doing the same. "You can’t destroy this forest," the first guy said. "We have to save the trees!" Lex rolled his eyes. "Damn Greenpeace hippies."
The emperor knew that Kal-El had never fallen in combat or been wounded in practice. With the body of a god and an unending store of energy, the gladiator never tired and never faltered. Yet he took no joy in victory. Alexander watched with a critical eye as Kal-El battled lions and won, no scratches marring his flesh. He was fast and strong, but a set jaw and narrowed eyes showed pride, determination. He would have to be broken. When Alexander bought him, Kal-El’s previous owner gave him the key: a collar studded in green jewels, with manacles to match.
Clark will sit on the steps he usually only sees through a telescope lens, necklace in hand. Lana will perch next to him, and when he speaks, her face will shift from earnest disbelief to concern, then to anger. Whitney will approach with trepidation even when they're oblivious to his presence. He'll know that he's about to get shoved neatly out of the picture. Lana and Clark will have each other, then. That'll be it. Debt repaid. Only, it doesn't happen that way, and Lex doesn't know quite what to make of that. Clark Kent, enigma. Yeah, Lex is intrigued.
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