As soon as I read the Christmas Caroll challenge, I immediately clicked on the link, chose a song, and wrote this fic. Hope you like it!
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It didn’t take long for Clark to find out that Luthor was up to his old tricks again. ‘Doesn’t that man have any Christmas spirit?’ he wondered, ‘After all, it’s Christmas Eve!’
He ascended into the star-filled sky to begin his search for his long-time nemesis. It was forty degrees below zero, but the cold didn’t bother him. All that mattered was finding Lex.
He soon spied the man lounging in a lofty aircraft high above the city. ‘Now to put a stop to---Aargh!’ Just as he approached the craft, a wave of searing pain swept over him! ‘Kryptonite! But how?’ He soon discovered six cannons on the bottom of the craft, aiming directly at him.
One of the cannons fired again, but this time it missed. Clark saw the glowing green missile go sailing over his head. ‘Have to take out those cannons!’ Fighting the pain, Clark aimed his heat vision at the second cannon on the left. It soon melted away, just as another of the cannons fired a wounding shot at him.
The battle raged on for hours. Finally, he was down to the last cannon. However, by now, Superman could barely hold himself up in the air. Superman knew this was it---the end of the line. He braced himself for the final---and fatal---shot. Far below, the clock struck midnight and the church bells began to ring, heralding the arrival of Christmas day.
Inside the aircraft, Luthor entered the cabin and ordered his pilot to step aside; he wanted to deliver the final shot himself. A wicked smile played on his lips as he took the control and aimed the last cannon at his blue-tighted enemy. With one press of a button, he’d be rid of Superman forever! He looked once more at his old enemy, his finger poised on the button-----but then he stopped. For some inexplicable reason, Luthor stopped.
Superman was still waiting for that final shot, but it never came. Instead, the craft began to move. It forced him to land behind the LexCorp building.
‘So that’s it,’ he thought, ‘Luthor wants to do me in on his own territory!’
The craft landed nearby, and Luthor stepped out, followed by Nigel. Nigel appeared to be carrying something, but in his Kryptonite-induced haze, Clark couldn’t tell what it was. ‘Probably more Kryptonite’ he thought.
Much too his surprise, Luthor called out, “Merry Christmas, my friend!”
Clark struggled to stand straight. “Hunh?”
“I know; such a greeting is rather odd, considering the animosity between us over the past year. However, in the spirit of the season, I thought we might call a temporary truce.”
Clark didn’t know what to say. “A truce? Really?”
Just then, Nigel stepped forward, and Clark saw that he was carrying a tray on which sat two glasses and a bottle of brandy. Lex took the bottle and began to pour the liquid into each glass. “Really. So is it agreed? A truce for the season?”
Clark smiled. “Truce.”
Luthor also smiled as he handed each of them a glass. “Then may I propose a toast: To Christmas, the season of peace on Earth---”
“---And goodwill toward men!” The two men clinked their glasses and began drinking their brandy.
“Merry Christmas, Superman.”
Clark raised his glass in salute. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Luthor.”
They then put their empty glasses back on the tray and went their separate ways, each knowing they’d meet again some other day. Throughout the city, the church bells continued to ring out in celebration of the season.
