JLU 2001 Fanfiction -World's Finest 5

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The World's Finest Team...

JUST ANOTHER MUTHA-$%@&!-ING TEAM-UP STORY

World's Finest #5 - November, Year Three by Bertram Gibbs

BATMAN

SUPERMAN

APOLLO

MIDNIGHTER

FIVE

Metropolis

    Hope and Mercy sat at their respective desks flanking the wide double doors of Lex Luthor’s office. While Hope was online checking the new line of Smith & Wesson’s, Mercy searched the LexCorp database for information regarding a metahuman based out of New York. Mercy sniffed. She had heard about this guy from her personal sources, used in the event of a possible metahuman attack against either her boss or his holdings. He seemed harmless, yet had an annoying motor mouth. True, he had accelerated strength and the ability to cling to walls like a bug, but his history of getting the snot kicked out of him by lesser villains in the most outlandish getups sort of decreased his enemy potential. In regards to the man’s own costume, “Right,” she sniffed. “That’s sure to strike fear or awe in the hearts of criminals. I’m shaking in my push-up.” She made a note in the file and saved it, then moved to the next one.

    They both heard the soft padding of a single set of footsteps coming down the hall, but kept their faces towards their monitors. At the last minute, they shot to their feet and performed a neat pirouette, positioning them shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the double door with their weapons drawn.

    Both of which were plucked out of their hands by the Midnighter, who was standing only inches in front of them.

    “Move,” he said.

    Hope and Mercy looked up to the face of Superman; their arms still stretched out before them, standing directly behind Midnighter.

    “Please,” he added.

    “You know the rules, Blue,” said Mercy.

    “You can’t go in unannounced,” said Hope.

    Superman opened his mouth.

    That was as far as he got.

    Behind the double doors, Lex Luthor was on the telephone with a broker. His office in the penthouse of the LexCorp building had a panoramic view of the city, its floor- to-ceiling windows composed of triple thick bulletproof glass. A man of his stature couldn’t be too careful. The room was paneled in dark woods, a smattering of hanging plants, and accented by its mahogany bar in the corner and its large ebony desk occupying its center. Luthor’s suit jacket hung from the back of his chair and he walked to the bar in his shirtsleeves, rolled up to the elbows. His fingers brushed away a speck of dust from his black suit pants and he readjusted the alignment of his suspenders. His hands reached out and poured himself a club soda, taking a sip after sliding the mouthpiece of the headset he was wearing to one side. He stared out at the city. His city.

    “No,” he said calmly. “Not a penny over $3.65 a barrel.” He smiled as he took another sip. “Yes, Franklin,” he said patiently, “I am fully aware his asking price is $5.00. But I am not prepared to go over $3.65. Let him know that in taking this price, he has the whole of LexCorp behind him.”

    The double doors exploded inward with a loud crash, followed by the aerial ballet performed by Hope and Mercy. Their bodies bounced across the floor, coming to a stop in front of Luthor.

    He sighed as Superman walked through the door. “Franklin,” he said. “I have to cut this short. Go up to $3.75, but let him know that the ten cents extends his contract with LexCorp by five years. End call.” The line shut off and he walked back to his desk and sat down. His eyes blinked when Midnighter came through the open doors.

    “Modified your outfit a bit, eh?” he asked grinning. “Not sure I like it. I think it gives the wrong impression, but that’s just me.”

    “Where’s Spazinski?” growled Midnighter.

    “Who?” asked Luthor, the pinnacle of innocence.

    “Myron Eugene Spazinski,” said Superman, taking a step closer. “He’s on his way to see you.”

    “Now why would he want to see me?” asked Luthor, tapping a few keys on the keyboard, his eyes looking for something on the screen.

    “We don’t have the time, Baldy!” snapped Midnighter.

    Luthor’s eyes narrowed and slid to where Midnighter stood.

    “I like your new attitude even less,” he said darkly.

    “Like I give a flying fuck!” snapped Midnighter. “Now where’s Spazinski!?!?”

    “Talk, Lex,” Superman said. “We have to get this madman back to his world.”

    Luthor’s eyes tilted in the Man of Steel’s direction. “From out of town, is he?”

    “That’s it!” snarled Midnighter, and he took three steps forward. Superman caught him in two by lifting him off the ground by the back of his neck.

    “Let me handle this,” Superman said. He placed Midnighter on the carpet and turned back to Luthor. “Look, Lex,” he said. “This man is dangerous and has the means of destroying all worlds in the multiverse!”

    “Not the multiverse again!” he groaned leaning back in his chair, dramatically cradling a pained head.

    “Yes,” Superman continued. “And the use of our technology will insure our doom. Now, for the last time, where is he?”

    “Well, rest assured, Superman,” Lex said crossing his legs, “this Myron Eugene Spazinski will not get his hands on our technology. Destroying the worlds in the multiverse is not profitable. Now, unless you have some other crisis in time you need my assistance on, I have several phone calls to make.”

    “Where is Spazinski?” asked Midnighter quietly.

    “And take your S & M ape with you,” Luthor added.

    Midnighter sighed. “Where is . . . “

    Luthor sat forward in his seat. “You have lost the right to talk to me, Batman!” he bellowed. He tightened his fists and slowed his breathing. “I know you hate me,” he said. “And you know my feelings are mutual. But you’ve always spoken to me with respect. Now you come in here, dressed like an extra in the Pacino film ‘Cruising’, call me names, speak to me in a derisive tone, and expect me to be cooperative??? And you should know that this new image of yours does not inspire fear; it brings revulsion!” Luthor’s eyes were hard, but he chuckled just the same. “I always knew you were crazy,” he said. “But you’ve gone off the deep end this time.”

    In one movement, Midnighter leaped from the floor, landed on the desk directly in front of Lex Luthor and had pulled his face to his by the front of his shirt, lifting him from his seat.

    “If you do not tell me where Myron Eugene Spazinski is, I am going to personally skull fuck you until you are drooling on a street corner, selling pencils!” His eyes flashed and he caressed the surface of Luthor’s head. “Very smooth,” he whispered. “Like a baby’s bottom. Bet that turns on a lot of guys.”

    “You can’t . . .!” Luthor protested, trying to pull out of the man’s grasp.

    Midnighter shook him roughly until he stilled, making Luthor’s eyes rattle in his head.

    “I’m not who you think I am,” Midnighter said through a sick grin. “And I can do anything I want. If you don’t tell me where Spazinski is, I’m going to start that ‘anything’ by breaking every bone in your body. And I know ways that will keep you awake to enjoy every moment!”

    “Lex Luthor,” Superman said leaning on the desk next to the two men, “This is Midnighter; hero from the world Spazinski comes from. Midnighter, this is Lex Luthor.”

    “A pleasure, I’m sure,” he grinned.

    Luthor’s bulging eyes darted from Superman’s face to Midnighter’s. Very slowly, Midnighter released his hold on Luthor’s shirt and allowed him to slide back into his seat. His hand pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket that was hanging on the tall back of the chair and wiped the sweat from his face.

    Superman leaned back and placed his hands on his hips. Midnighter stayed on the desk in a semi-crouched position, appearing to be ready to strike at anytime.

    “Apologies,” Luthor muttered. “My mistake. Welcome to Metropolis!”

    “Enough bullshit,” said the Midnighter. “Where’s Spazinski?”

    “Like I said,” began Luthor, “Myron Eugene Spazinski will not get his hands on our technology.” He stood and stepped around the chair. All eyes were on him. “You see, that sentence is rather past tense,” said Luthor. “He already has it!”

    A bolt of electricity shot from the side of the office and blew Midnighter off the desk into the wall. His body hit the floor hard and was sparking with white flashes.

    As Superman turned, a panel in the drop ceiling pulled away and bathed him in a brilliant green glow. The pain so intense, his entire body went ridged and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The Man of Steel’s body suddenly sagged and he fell to his knees.

    Midnighter was about to leap when another bolt of electricity shot out and slammed him against the wall. He face was a mask of rage and he pushed himself up to a standing position. The beam struck him and his entire body glowed with electrical energy, but he still took a halting step forward. Lex Luthor calmly walked over and stood a few feet in front of him. As the Midnighter tried to raise his arms to the man, Luthor raised his hand holding the glass of club soda.

    “You look parched,” Luthor said with an easy smile. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but let me wet your whistle.”

    Luthor flung the contents of the glass at Midnighter’s face just as another beam shot from the side of the room. The known result of mixing liquid and electricity drove the Midnighter up on his toes, his scream of agony echoing through the room. The beam shut off and he fell to the ground unconscious.

    Luthor walked over to Superman, who was having problems raising his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dial.

    “You know what the best thing about this light Myron made for me is?” asked Luthor lightly staring lovingly at the dial. “Well, for you, the answer is a good news/bad news thing. The good news is that he installed a dimmer switch.” Luthor grinned evilly. “The bad news is it was on a low setting.” He quickly spun the dial to its three-quarter mark and the green light above Superman increased in intensity. The man of Steel screamed loud enough to crack the thick glass in the office’s windows and collapsed on the floor. Luthor reduced the setting and strode to where Myron Eugene Spazinski peeked out of his hiding spot, which was from behind a false panel in the wall. Luthor calmly went to the bar.

    “You failed to mention someone was coming after you,” Luthor remarked flatly as he refilled his glass.

    “It may have slipped my mind,” said Spazinski, adjusting the crotch of his shining blue jumpsuit.

    “Is there anything else that you had convenient amnesia on that I should know about?” Luthor asked, peering at the smaller man over the rim of the glass.

    ”He does have a partner,” Myron said in a downcast voice.

    “Does he now?” said Luthor. “And what is this ‘partner’ like?”

    Myron’s eyes dropped to the unconscious form of Superman and pointed.

    “Like him,” he replied. “Very much like him, but his hair is longer and silver. And the costume’s different, too!”

    “You’ve read the files,” Luthor said. “Similar powers?”

    “Very much so,” Myron said. “Solar powered as well.”

    Luthor took another sip and he stared at a faraway place only he could see. “That would mean that this man’s partner . . . “

    “’Apollo’,” volunteered Myron.

    Luthor closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “’Apollo’ is with Batman. And why would that be?” he asked, his eyes like ice.

    Myron shuffled his feet. “Well,” he began in a cracking voice, “Before I came to your world; and you know I needed a partner!” he broke in for clarification. “I studied your world and found that there were two powerful and influential people who could help me; one of them being you,” he added. “The other being . . . “

    “The Joker,” sighed Luthor rolling his eyes.

    “Exactly!” beamed Myron. “So in order for me to meet with both of you, I used this device to split myself in two separate . . . “

    “Yes!” cut in Luthor. “I get the idea.” He frowned. “There’s no telling what will happen with that maniac involved. He may just destroy the worlds for fun.” His eyes bored into Myron Eugene Spazinski’s. “This means you will have to work faster. Go to the laboratory and make a list of the things you need in your world. Let me know when you’re ready to transport.”

    “Sure thing, Lex!” Myron Eugene Spazinski said happily. “I’ll go through your database and pick out the things I need.” He turned in the open doorway and stopped. “And in a small amount of time, I will be the supreme ruler of all universes!” he whispered dramatically and disappeared into the shadows.

    Luthor pressed a toggle on the edge of his desk, and the panel slid back into place. He went behind his desk and tapped a button on the speakerphone.

    “Infirmary,” said a voice. “Karloff here.”

    Luthor grinned. Finding a British medic with a lisp and that name was a stroke of genius. It cut down on people taking sick days at LexCorp, because when they did, they had to be checked out by the staff physician immediately upon their return. Karloff objected to the dim lighting, the bubbling beakers and sparking electrical devices that suited no purpose but filled his work area. An increase in pay seemed to make the objection tolerable.

    “Doctor!” cried Luthor. “How are things down in the la-bor-a-tory?”

    Karloff sighed. The gag was getting tired. “Fine, Misth-tah Lu-thor. You obviousthly called for a reathon.”

    “Yes, Doctor,” Luthor said, “I need you up here to attend to Hope and Mercy. They’ve had an . . . accident.”

    “They’ve had an accthident?” asked Karloff.

    “Is there a problem, Doctor?” asked Luthor.

    “No,” replied Karloff. “No problem at all Misth-tah Lu-Thor. It just seems . . . sthrange.”

    “So you’ll be right up?”

    “On my way, Thir!”

    Luthor ended the call and leaned back in his seat and sipped from the glass.

    Spazinski thinks he’s going to be the supreme leader of the multiverses, thought Luthor. He chuckled and took another sip. Dear Lord, sometimes it’s just too easy.

To Be Continued…