Evil is the New Black, pt I
Aug. 10th, 2004 08:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archiveI started this like three months ago and planned to finish it for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serialkarma‘s birthday but that obviously never happened, and then I was just going to post it like this, but this morning I had an epiphany hit that crackpipe and lo... I had an idea.
Part one of three.
SV/ Alias/ HP
Evil is the New Black
Lex didn’t think of himself as evil; he was just misunderstood by narrow-minded people with Puritan values. This was no great loss as he saw most values as suspect, unless they had to do with the basic value of gold or silver, which always tended to hover in the same place on the market.
As far as he was concerned morality may have looked good in primary colored spandex, but it didn’t get the good contracts with the Department of Transportation and Waste Removal, and in Lex’s line of work everything was about contracts and connections.
It wasn’t just what you knew, but who you knew and who you fucked and who fucked you, which was probably why he spent a good deal of every day culling his In/Out-List and updating his address book.
Everyone had their little obsessive traits and this was his, and woe betide the assistant who interrupted him while at work.
Lex hated being interrupted when he was deciding whose life to turn to shit, because distractions inevitably caused mistakes. The last time he’d been interrupted during his morning ritual he’d chosen, Jones, A. William instead of Jones, T. Wesley and wound up being forced to find a new mechanic. Ergo, the crackling sound of his office intercom when he was trying to figure which escort service to use for the evening was very unwelcome.
"Mr Luthor? There's a Mr Sark here to see you."
"That's well and good for him, Jeanine, but what exactly does this have to do with me?” Lex snapped. “How many times have I told you not to bother me with every minute problem that flies across your desk? I thought the agency said you had initiative?
“Every day I have important decisions that require my complete and utter attention. I have an appointment with my tailor in six minutes and fourteen seconds. I am a busy man; any decent assistant would have checked my schedule and realized this."
There was a pause that Lex immediately recognized as a woman attempting not to cry. He’d tried out male assistants as well, but they were just as likely as their female counterparts to suffer some sort of breakdown.
The only assistant who hadn’t cracked under the pressure had turned out to be an escapee from the local insane asylum, and Lex was loathe to put Mercy back on admin detail, but he was getting desperate.
"I understand that, sir, but he said he was referred to you by a Mr Bomani, and I know that you and Mr Bomani once did business regarding --"
"Send him in."
"Yes, sir, and what shall I tell your --"
"Didn't I just tell you to send Mr Sark in? What sort of incompetent idiot did the agency send me? You're fired -- but send in Mr Sark first." Lex hung up the phone and exhaled deeply. It was so hard to find good help these days.
Slipping his stylus back into its holder, he turned off his PDA, slipped his feet back into his loafers and rolled his chair back from his desk to reach under and release the locking mechanism on his office doors. He then got to his feet and briefly ran a hand over his head.
A thin smile graced his features as the door opened noiselessly, and admitted a young man in his mid-twenties with blonde spiky hair and excellent sartorial taste.
Lex studied the bright blue eyes and soft pink mouth with something akin to curiosity. Mr Sark seemed very young. Almost too young. And Lex knew all about jailbait.
“Mr Luthor,” the jailbait said, pausing on the other side of Lex’s desk to set down his briefcase and extend his hand.
Lex softly inhaled the smell of new leather his guest was permeating. “Mr Sark.”
After a brief handshake, Lex motioned to one of the guest chairs. “Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Water, scotch, juice?”
Mr Sark shook his head even as he took his seat. “I prefer not to drink while I’m working; I had a rather unfortunate episode with an associate and an excellent red wine a few years back.”
Lex nodded his head in sympathy, but made sure to lock the information away in his head for further use. Paranoia in one’s business associates was always a useful tidbit.
Straightening his tie, Lex sat back down and leaned back into his chair. "So, Mr Sark, I understand you're an associate of Mr Bomani. How is Kazari? I haven't seen him since I the last time I was in Monaco --"
"I'm an ex-associate."
"I didn't know Kazari *had* any ex-associates." Lex sat up somewhat abruptly.
"The dead generally do," Mr Sark said.
"Ah. I see. Perhaps then --"
Mr Sark shifted in his seat and something black and shiny flashed in front of Lex’s eyes. What good was security if they let everyone with guns in?
"Mr Luthor,” Mr Sark said, sliding forward in his chair until Lex could get a very good look at the Glock 9mm in his hand. “I would appreciate it greatly if you would remove your hand from the emergency button underneath your desk and place both your hands where I can see them."
Lex scowled as Sark‘s thumb snapped something by the barrel of his gun. "Is this how you always conduct business, Mr Sark? By intimidating your associates? Because I have to say it's certainly not one of the more refined business tactics. It leaves a little certain something to be desired."
"I assure you that this is merely a safety precaution for both our sakes, and please, call me Julian, unless you prefer the formality of surnames," Sark said, even as he snapped something else by the barrel and retracted the gun from Lex’s immediate vicinity.
Something deep inside Lex‘s chest clenched up. "Excuse me?"
"Did I say something remiss?"
"Your name is Julian?"
"Yes, Julian Anton Sark."
"Julian," Lex parroted.
"Yes."
"You weren't adopted by any chance were you?"
"Not to the best of my knowledge or that of my not-terribly-dear, but very much departed father,” said Sark. “Why? What exactly are you alluding to?"
"Tell me about your father."
"He's dead. He left me a large inheritance, which I used to keep from being assassinated by my current employers. End of story. Shall we move on?"
Lex exhaled through his nose. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath. “What exactly can I do for you, Mr Sark?” he asked, resting his arms on his desk and locking his fingers together.
Sark‘s smirk seemed permanently affixed. “I prefer to think of it as what we can do for each other,” he said pulling his briefcase onto his lap and releasing the locking mechanisms without looking downward.
“I’ll reserve judgment until you make me an offer,” Lex replied somewhat dryly.
“Very well, Mr Luthor,” Sark said, turning his briefcase on his knees and tilting it forward so that Lex could see the contents. “It’s come to the attention of my employers that you have a small Kryptonian problem by the name of Kal-El… unless you prefer to refer to him by his given name, Clark Kent.”
Lex’s heartbeat only increased by two extra beats as he cleanly vaulted over his desk and knocked Sark out of his chair. With one knee pressing against Sark’s windpipe, Lex quickly disarmed him, but Sark’s eyes glittered distractingly under the fluorescent lights.
“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about,” Lex said, momentarily releasing the pressure on Sark’s windpipe. “But nobody threatens what belongs to me.”
Sark’s omnipresent smirk never seemed to slip away. “Tell me, Lex,” he said, his voice barely audible, “have you ever heard of Milo Rambaldi?”
-end part I-
serialkarma‘s birthday but that obviously never happened, and then I was just going to post it like this, but this morning I had an epiphany Part one of three.
SV/ Alias/ HP
Lex didn’t think of himself as evil; he was just misunderstood by narrow-minded people with Puritan values. This was no great loss as he saw most values as suspect, unless they had to do with the basic value of gold or silver, which always tended to hover in the same place on the market.
As far as he was concerned morality may have looked good in primary colored spandex, but it didn’t get the good contracts with the Department of Transportation and Waste Removal, and in Lex’s line of work everything was about contracts and connections.
It wasn’t just what you knew, but who you knew and who you fucked and who fucked you, which was probably why he spent a good deal of every day culling his In/Out-List and updating his address book.
Everyone had their little obsessive traits and this was his, and woe betide the assistant who interrupted him while at work.
Lex hated being interrupted when he was deciding whose life to turn to shit, because distractions inevitably caused mistakes. The last time he’d been interrupted during his morning ritual he’d chosen, Jones, A. William instead of Jones, T. Wesley and wound up being forced to find a new mechanic. Ergo, the crackling sound of his office intercom when he was trying to figure which escort service to use for the evening was very unwelcome.
"Mr Luthor? There's a Mr Sark here to see you."
"That's well and good for him, Jeanine, but what exactly does this have to do with me?” Lex snapped. “How many times have I told you not to bother me with every minute problem that flies across your desk? I thought the agency said you had initiative?
“Every day I have important decisions that require my complete and utter attention. I have an appointment with my tailor in six minutes and fourteen seconds. I am a busy man; any decent assistant would have checked my schedule and realized this."
There was a pause that Lex immediately recognized as a woman attempting not to cry. He’d tried out male assistants as well, but they were just as likely as their female counterparts to suffer some sort of breakdown.
The only assistant who hadn’t cracked under the pressure had turned out to be an escapee from the local insane asylum, and Lex was loathe to put Mercy back on admin detail, but he was getting desperate.
"I understand that, sir, but he said he was referred to you by a Mr Bomani, and I know that you and Mr Bomani once did business regarding --"
"Send him in."
"Yes, sir, and what shall I tell your --"
"Didn't I just tell you to send Mr Sark in? What sort of incompetent idiot did the agency send me? You're fired -- but send in Mr Sark first." Lex hung up the phone and exhaled deeply. It was so hard to find good help these days.
Slipping his stylus back into its holder, he turned off his PDA, slipped his feet back into his loafers and rolled his chair back from his desk to reach under and release the locking mechanism on his office doors. He then got to his feet and briefly ran a hand over his head.
A thin smile graced his features as the door opened noiselessly, and admitted a young man in his mid-twenties with blonde spiky hair and excellent sartorial taste.
Lex studied the bright blue eyes and soft pink mouth with something akin to curiosity. Mr Sark seemed very young. Almost too young. And Lex knew all about jailbait.
“Mr Luthor,” the jailbait said, pausing on the other side of Lex’s desk to set down his briefcase and extend his hand.
Lex softly inhaled the smell of new leather his guest was permeating. “Mr Sark.”
After a brief handshake, Lex motioned to one of the guest chairs. “Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Water, scotch, juice?”
Mr Sark shook his head even as he took his seat. “I prefer not to drink while I’m working; I had a rather unfortunate episode with an associate and an excellent red wine a few years back.”
Lex nodded his head in sympathy, but made sure to lock the information away in his head for further use. Paranoia in one’s business associates was always a useful tidbit.
Straightening his tie, Lex sat back down and leaned back into his chair. "So, Mr Sark, I understand you're an associate of Mr Bomani. How is Kazari? I haven't seen him since I the last time I was in Monaco --"
"I'm an ex-associate."
"I didn't know Kazari *had* any ex-associates." Lex sat up somewhat abruptly.
"The dead generally do," Mr Sark said.
"Ah. I see. Perhaps then --"
Mr Sark shifted in his seat and something black and shiny flashed in front of Lex’s eyes. What good was security if they let everyone with guns in?
"Mr Luthor,” Mr Sark said, sliding forward in his chair until Lex could get a very good look at the Glock 9mm in his hand. “I would appreciate it greatly if you would remove your hand from the emergency button underneath your desk and place both your hands where I can see them."
Lex scowled as Sark‘s thumb snapped something by the barrel of his gun. "Is this how you always conduct business, Mr Sark? By intimidating your associates? Because I have to say it's certainly not one of the more refined business tactics. It leaves a little certain something to be desired."
"I assure you that this is merely a safety precaution for both our sakes, and please, call me Julian, unless you prefer the formality of surnames," Sark said, even as he snapped something else by the barrel and retracted the gun from Lex’s immediate vicinity.
Something deep inside Lex‘s chest clenched up. "Excuse me?"
"Did I say something remiss?"
"Your name is Julian?"
"Yes, Julian Anton Sark."
"Julian," Lex parroted.
"Yes."
"You weren't adopted by any chance were you?"
"Not to the best of my knowledge or that of my not-terribly-dear, but very much departed father,” said Sark. “Why? What exactly are you alluding to?"
"Tell me about your father."
"He's dead. He left me a large inheritance, which I used to keep from being assassinated by my current employers. End of story. Shall we move on?"
Lex exhaled through his nose. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath. “What exactly can I do for you, Mr Sark?” he asked, resting his arms on his desk and locking his fingers together.
Sark‘s smirk seemed permanently affixed. “I prefer to think of it as what we can do for each other,” he said pulling his briefcase onto his lap and releasing the locking mechanisms without looking downward.
“I’ll reserve judgment until you make me an offer,” Lex replied somewhat dryly.
“Very well, Mr Luthor,” Sark said, turning his briefcase on his knees and tilting it forward so that Lex could see the contents. “It’s come to the attention of my employers that you have a small Kryptonian problem by the name of Kal-El… unless you prefer to refer to him by his given name, Clark Kent.”
Lex’s heartbeat only increased by two extra beats as he cleanly vaulted over his desk and knocked Sark out of his chair. With one knee pressing against Sark’s windpipe, Lex quickly disarmed him, but Sark’s eyes glittered distractingly under the fluorescent lights.
“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about,” Lex said, momentarily releasing the pressure on Sark’s windpipe. “But nobody threatens what belongs to me.”
Sark’s omnipresent smirk never seemed to slip away. “Tell me, Lex,” he said, his voice barely audible, “have you ever heard of Milo Rambaldi?”
-end part I-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 08:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:08 am (UTC)My question exactly. I had it all planned out in my head, but that doesn't seem to be translating to the screen.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 08:51 am (UTC)“I prefer not to drink while I’m working; I had a rather unfortunate episode with an associate and an excellent red wine a few years back.”
heh. heh heh.
Also, you're insane.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:08 am (UTC)I try.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 08:59 am (UTC)I am cracking up already. Sark and Lex - and, I'm assuming, Draco? - facing off. Best shit ever!
no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 09:50 am (UTC)Heh. And also, YAY! This is awesome.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 01:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 02:34 pm (UTC)*snicker* You managed to redirect my love for Sark onto Lex -- quite a feat, m'dear.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-11 11:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 09:33 am (UTC)*flails around quite a lot*
Date: 2004-08-21 05:55 am (UTC)hitting the crack pipewatching Alias. And you mixed it with my favorite show!Lex's obsessive tendencies amuse me muchly. His exasperation with weakness. Heh. And we all know how turned on Sark gets when someone hands him his shit. He so wants Lex right now. I bet he's practically shaking with the want of it...
More!