Do I Throw My Hopes In The Fire?

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A/N some Flashbacks occur in this one, they haven't been marked out cause I reckon y'all can figure it out.



Clark towered over the woman sitting at the desk, casting a shadow.

She looked up at him, her face completely blank and ready to throw hands with whoever was about to annoy her until she made eye contact with Clark. Her eyes widened, jaw dropped, and her fingers stilled over her keyboard.

"Hi," she said, voice high and small, "can I help you?"

Clark smiled kindly, watching as the woman's eyes glanced between his face and the S-insignia on his chest, "I'd like to speak to Mister Luthor."

"uh..." she blinked, looked at her screen, "I-uhm- he's busy at the moment."

"ah," Clark nodded, "Yes I'm sure he often is, but this is important."

"uh, well- "

"You can allow me to enter the room or I can get in on my own, it's up to you."

She stuttered and then hit the keys on her computer to allow him to enter the elevator.

"thank you."

He marched over, head high, not bothering to look at all the people gaping at him.

He wouldn't usually do this, but he supposed it had been coming for a while now. He'd been angry for years, been wanting to strangle Luthor for years, but he'd had control.

At this point his control was slipping. He hadn't even told anyone he was doing this.

He walked into Luthor's office on his own, not bothering for someone to walk in and announce him as if this were a King's court. He was in the middle of a meeting with two other people, who quickly ran out as soon as they laid eyes on him. Luthor stood from his desk, hands behind his back.

"Superman, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Clark let his glare out full force, he'd learned plenty of tips from Bruce, and walked around the desk to stand before Luthor, looking down his nose from his three-inch vantage point.

"Central City."

"what about it?"

"attacked by something cameras caught as only a blur of yellow. The league picked up on extreme levels of interdimensional energy. So," Clark's glare intensified, "what did you do?"

Luthor laughed, lightly and like a privileged rich white man (go figure), "you think I had something to do with that?"

"Did you?"

"aww," Luthor held a hand to his chest in feigned insult, "come now, Superman, I thought we knew each other better than that. Please. How could you think so lowly of me?"

"thirty people confirmed dead and eighty-nine injured, that sounds right up your alley."

"now, now," Luthor said, "Central isn't my preferred place of business, perhaps you should take this up with Captain Cold."

"whatever or whoever was behind the attack had to have been exposed to some form of advanced technology," Clark said, "that is definitely your preferred 'area' of business."

Luthor crossed his arms and acted as if he were thinking, "now, I really don't recall any plans to attempt at leveling Central City, would you like me to check my ledger?"

Clark scowled and opened his mouth to retort but Luthor's office phone wrang.

Luthor held up a finger, turned and answered it.

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