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comixology (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} comixology) wrote,@ 2007-08-14 16:32:00 |
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ORIGINALLY POSTED 11.16.2006
FANFIC (DC/Robin, AU)
Tim Drake & Lex Luthor (PG)
1396 words.
Untitled (2/?)
Lex leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and was quite unnerved to find himself smiling. There was something infuriating about the tone of that one sentence, so simple and nonchalant, he knew that it must've been a hook. He could smell the bait there, in the helpful curve and loop of Times New Roman. With a sigh, Lex ran one broad, carefully-manicured hand over his scalp and took a sip of brandy. Mercy was just outside, a button-push away from alerting the systems management division that they'd all lost their jobs.
Lex could afford to fire the entire department, couldn't he? How cost-effective would that be?
Picking up the phone, Lex made a quick call to the front desk, asking that Joanne please cancel his meetings from 2:30 to 4:00. Something had come up that needed his personal attention, he said simply, and tried to ignore the irritating way she giggled whenever he spoke to her.
Mercy received the notification in the hall a moment later, and knocked three times before stepping into the office and asking in her gruff way, "Anything I can assist with, Sir?"
"Oh, no," the green-eyed man said smoothly, gesturing with his glass for her to go about her usual business. As an afterthought, he called, "Have them send up Marcus, from Systems Administration."
He ignored Mercy's dutiful nod, set his drink down, and let the smile melt off of his face before diving into his network's access history. That the document had appeared on his personal machine, and apparently no one else's, meant that he would need to alter all of his passwords. He was running a few major, basic scans to determine if anything was missing, copied, or otherwise rifled through without authorization.
By the time Marcus - a short, fat man with wobbling jowls and a thin upturned nose - made his way up all those floors to get to the executive office, Lex was satisfied that none of his personal files had been tampered with. It was not at all reassuring, however, because it meant that his visitor - whomever he was - didn't want something that was immediately obvious. Other than attention.
Lex had certainly been forced to sit up and take notice, and he was loathe to do anything that might imply he'd been (however remotely) rattled.
"H-hello, sir! My, goodness, this is an honor," Marcus began in a high-pitched, squirrelly voice. His double-chin turned pink and shook while he spoke, working in collaboration with his ratty, greying blonde ponytail and food-stained tie to remind Lex just why it was he'd never called Marcus into his office before. Hiding his distaste for the other man, Lex stood at his desk, gesturing for Marcus to sit down in one of the expensive leather chairs that were available. It creaked beneath the man's weight, and before he could start to thank Lex for this opportunity, Lex used his rather commanding voice and presence to shut him up.
"We were hacked this morning," he announced casually, pinning Marcus where he sat. The man began to squirm in his seat, clearly flabbergasted by the news. He then did the most unintelligent thing he could have.
"Hacked, sir? Are you sure?"
As he settled back into his desk chair, Lex barked, "Quite sure. You're not being paid to question my opinions or information."
"Oh, no sir. Sorry sir," the man chirped. Such a large man, older than Lex by at least ten years, should not have been 'chirping'.
"I don't like repeating myself, and I don't do it often - it's a waste of my time and yours. Since my time is infinitely more valuable, you'd be wise not to waste it again or you may find yourself in a position of not being paid to do anything in these offices. Am I being quite clear?"
Marcus, bug-eyed and beet red, nodded.
"We were hacked this morning," he said again, in a crisp and suddenly very calm tone. "You're going to find out who did it. You'll drop all other projects, and focus solely on this one. You'll report directly to me, at the end of each day, and give me your findings on this coding signature."
Turning his sleek, flat-screened monitor around so that the man could see the trace coding that Lex had noticed earlier, highlighted just in case Marcus was as much of an idiot as he looked to be, Lex leaned forward against his desk. "You're not going to speak about this to anyone, in the office or out, at risk of breach of your employment contract concerning nondisclosure."
Again, the red-faced man nodded, trying to hide the fact that he was trembling and getting sweat from his palms all over Lex's expensive leather furniture. "Y-yes, sir," he managed, practically launching out of his chair.
"Oh, and Marcus," Lex said as he off-handedly pushed the buttons required to send the coded signature in question down to the other man's computer, "you have until the end of the week."
"F-four days, sir?"
"Four days. Will that be a problem?"
"Oh, no sir, not at all," Marcus lied, and scurried out into the hall. Lex resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and turned his attention back to the friendly little note on his desk.
Whomever had done this had not wanted information. They'd not wanted to cause any damage (yet), and they had gone out of the way to leave both signature and note. Lex was no fool. He'd just needed a moment to suspend his disbelief that anyone capable of hacking into LexCorp's files wouldn't be interested in some sort of corporate espionage.
No, whoever this was, they wanted attention. Even more interesting, they (well, he, more likely) had asked for it in a way that Lex simply couldn't ignore.
Considering his options for a moment, Lex leaned back in his chair.
I'll take it under consideration, he wrote, lips quirked up in an amused smile. Tell me, which is it you're interested in; a lawsuit or an interview?
When Tim cracked the new set of passwords, he couldn't help but laugh.
Oh, sir, he wrote, I wouldn't presume to waste your time with either. You're a busy man, what with all those pet projects.
Curiosity killed the cat, my friend, Lex replied in hasty type, his hackles on the rise.
But satisfaction brought him back. No need to kill the cat, sir. The cat isn't threatening, really. He is only curious, after all.
I'm losing my patience.
Well, that's only natural. Now is the dramatic moment of fate, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life and you know not whether for good or ill!
"Holmes," Lex muttered under his breath, bewildered frustration turning the tips of his ears red and forcing his brow to crease. The tension rushed out of his shoulders, and Lex let loose a long, rumbling laugh. The bastard was quoting The Hound of the Baskervilles at him. How ... quaint.
On the small yellow legal pad he kept on his desk, Lex scrawled out a few notes.
Under Thirty.
Student?
Playful.
Recovers well when threatened.
Well-read, perhaps.
Local?
Holmes.
Tim watched, one knee hugged against his chest, as Lex's computer accessed an international address database, and called up a list of all Baker Streets in the Eastern Standard Time zone. He laughed, and again drew Lex's attention to the word document they'd been using as correspondence.
Hopefully you'll get some of your patience back. I'm kind of enjoying this part. The thrill of the chase, and all, Tim typed, before logging out of LexCorp's system and the computer he was working on. Shouldering his book bag and checking his watch, he made his way out of Gotham University's main library, located squarely at the corner of Baker and 22nd. He knew it was kind of a silly way to do things, and probably too simple a trick to use again, but if anything he felt secure in the response (or rather, lack thereof) he'd received.
Lex Luthor was intrigued, perplexed even, and it was because of him. That idea made Tim feel very smug indeed.
Looking over his mystery-hacker's addendum, Lex paused, and drew a sharp line through one of his notes. This kid wasn't under thirty. He was under twenty-five.
FANFIC (DC/Robin, AU)
Tim Drake & Lex Luthor (PG)
1396 words.
Untitled (2/?)
Lex leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and was quite unnerved to find himself smiling. There was something infuriating about the tone of that one sentence, so simple and nonchalant, he knew that it must've been a hook. He could smell the bait there, in the helpful curve and loop of Times New Roman. With a sigh, Lex ran one broad, carefully-manicured hand over his scalp and took a sip of brandy. Mercy was just outside, a button-push away from alerting the systems management division that they'd all lost their jobs.
Lex could afford to fire the entire department, couldn't he? How cost-effective would that be?
Picking up the phone, Lex made a quick call to the front desk, asking that Joanne please cancel his meetings from 2:30 to 4:00. Something had come up that needed his personal attention, he said simply, and tried to ignore the irritating way she giggled whenever he spoke to her.
Mercy received the notification in the hall a moment later, and knocked three times before stepping into the office and asking in her gruff way, "Anything I can assist with, Sir?"
"Oh, no," the green-eyed man said smoothly, gesturing with his glass for her to go about her usual business. As an afterthought, he called, "Have them send up Marcus, from Systems Administration."
He ignored Mercy's dutiful nod, set his drink down, and let the smile melt off of his face before diving into his network's access history. That the document had appeared on his personal machine, and apparently no one else's, meant that he would need to alter all of his passwords. He was running a few major, basic scans to determine if anything was missing, copied, or otherwise rifled through without authorization.
By the time Marcus - a short, fat man with wobbling jowls and a thin upturned nose - made his way up all those floors to get to the executive office, Lex was satisfied that none of his personal files had been tampered with. It was not at all reassuring, however, because it meant that his visitor - whomever he was - didn't want something that was immediately obvious. Other than attention.
Lex had certainly been forced to sit up and take notice, and he was loathe to do anything that might imply he'd been (however remotely) rattled.
"H-hello, sir! My, goodness, this is an honor," Marcus began in a high-pitched, squirrelly voice. His double-chin turned pink and shook while he spoke, working in collaboration with his ratty, greying blonde ponytail and food-stained tie to remind Lex just why it was he'd never called Marcus into his office before. Hiding his distaste for the other man, Lex stood at his desk, gesturing for Marcus to sit down in one of the expensive leather chairs that were available. It creaked beneath the man's weight, and before he could start to thank Lex for this opportunity, Lex used his rather commanding voice and presence to shut him up.
"We were hacked this morning," he announced casually, pinning Marcus where he sat. The man began to squirm in his seat, clearly flabbergasted by the news. He then did the most unintelligent thing he could have.
"Hacked, sir? Are you sure?"
As he settled back into his desk chair, Lex barked, "Quite sure. You're not being paid to question my opinions or information."
"Oh, no sir. Sorry sir," the man chirped. Such a large man, older than Lex by at least ten years, should not have been 'chirping'.
"I don't like repeating myself, and I don't do it often - it's a waste of my time and yours. Since my time is infinitely more valuable, you'd be wise not to waste it again or you may find yourself in a position of not being paid to do anything in these offices. Am I being quite clear?"
Marcus, bug-eyed and beet red, nodded.
"We were hacked this morning," he said again, in a crisp and suddenly very calm tone. "You're going to find out who did it. You'll drop all other projects, and focus solely on this one. You'll report directly to me, at the end of each day, and give me your findings on this coding signature."
Turning his sleek, flat-screened monitor around so that the man could see the trace coding that Lex had noticed earlier, highlighted just in case Marcus was as much of an idiot as he looked to be, Lex leaned forward against his desk. "You're not going to speak about this to anyone, in the office or out, at risk of breach of your employment contract concerning nondisclosure."
Again, the red-faced man nodded, trying to hide the fact that he was trembling and getting sweat from his palms all over Lex's expensive leather furniture. "Y-yes, sir," he managed, practically launching out of his chair.
"Oh, and Marcus," Lex said as he off-handedly pushed the buttons required to send the coded signature in question down to the other man's computer, "you have until the end of the week."
"F-four days, sir?"
"Four days. Will that be a problem?"
"Oh, no sir, not at all," Marcus lied, and scurried out into the hall. Lex resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and turned his attention back to the friendly little note on his desk.
Whomever had done this had not wanted information. They'd not wanted to cause any damage (yet), and they had gone out of the way to leave both signature and note. Lex was no fool. He'd just needed a moment to suspend his disbelief that anyone capable of hacking into LexCorp's files wouldn't be interested in some sort of corporate espionage.
No, whoever this was, they wanted attention. Even more interesting, they (well, he, more likely) had asked for it in a way that Lex simply couldn't ignore.
Considering his options for a moment, Lex leaned back in his chair.
I'll take it under consideration, he wrote, lips quirked up in an amused smile. Tell me, which is it you're interested in; a lawsuit or an interview?
When Tim cracked the new set of passwords, he couldn't help but laugh.
Oh, sir, he wrote, I wouldn't presume to waste your time with either. You're a busy man, what with all those pet projects.
Curiosity killed the cat, my friend, Lex replied in hasty type, his hackles on the rise.
But satisfaction brought him back. No need to kill the cat, sir. The cat isn't threatening, really. He is only curious, after all.
I'm losing my patience.
Well, that's only natural. Now is the dramatic moment of fate, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life and you know not whether for good or ill!
"Holmes," Lex muttered under his breath, bewildered frustration turning the tips of his ears red and forcing his brow to crease. The tension rushed out of his shoulders, and Lex let loose a long, rumbling laugh. The bastard was quoting The Hound of the Baskervilles at him. How ... quaint.
On the small yellow legal pad he kept on his desk, Lex scrawled out a few notes.
Under Thirty.
Student?
Playful.
Recovers well when threatened.
Well-read, perhaps.
Local?
Holmes.
Tim watched, one knee hugged against his chest, as Lex's computer accessed an international address database, and called up a list of all Baker Streets in the Eastern Standard Time zone. He laughed, and again drew Lex's attention to the word document they'd been using as correspondence.
Hopefully you'll get some of your patience back. I'm kind of enjoying this part. The thrill of the chase, and all, Tim typed, before logging out of LexCorp's system and the computer he was working on. Shouldering his book bag and checking his watch, he made his way out of Gotham University's main library, located squarely at the corner of Baker and 22nd. He knew it was kind of a silly way to do things, and probably too simple a trick to use again, but if anything he felt secure in the response (or rather, lack thereof) he'd received.
Lex Luthor was intrigued, perplexed even, and it was because of him. That idea made Tim feel very smug indeed.
Looking over his mystery-hacker's addendum, Lex paused, and drew a sharp line through one of his notes. This kid wasn't under thirty. He was under twenty-five.
