Disclaimers: If I owned these guys do you really think I'd be posting this here instead of putting it up on screen? ;-)

Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side

Feedback: I adore it. <g> To <azarsuerte@hotmail.com>

Archive: Anywhere that wants it, please ask. :-)

Keywords: crossover, alternate universe

Crossover: "The Shadow" (1994 movie version)

Series: not sure yet

Pairing: none yet...though that could change.

Note: In the movie version of "The Shadow" as it aired, the last scene just has Margo and Lamont saying goodbye with a kiss, but in the original script he slipped an agent ring onto her finger before he left. So, for the purpose of this story, presume that bit happened even though we didn't see it. <g> It's AU--I can do that. ;-)

Characters: Smallville--Lex Luthor, Chloe Sullivan, Lois Lane; The Shadow--Margo Lane, Lamont Cranston

Summary: Sometimes destiny is bigger than one man's lifetime.

"Heirs of the Shadow"
by Azar

Part I - The Benefit

There was a time not so long ago when Lionel Luthor wouldn't have been caught dead with his deadbeat son at one of these upscale New York charity events, Lex mused with an ironic smile. So what did it say about their relationship that he found himself wishing that time back again?

Not that the Cranston Foundation wasn't a worthy cause. The younger Luthor just didn't consider schmoozing and hob-nobbing with a bunch of brown-nosing would-be social climbers who had only their own self interests at heart--and what the only surviving Cranston heirs could do for those interests--to be his idea of a pleasant way to spend an evening.

With a rueful chuckle so soft no one else could have heard it, Lex handed the requisite overcoat, top hat, white gloves and white scarf to the doorman and followed his father into the room.

By the time they reached the table closest to the stage, which had been reserved for the two of them and his father's closest business associates--Lionel Luthor didn't have friends--the false, condescending smile was firmly in place. Any wayward impulse to strangle one or more of the night's benefactors had been tightly reined in. He listened with only half an ear as introductions and honeyed praise dripped from every pair of lips in the room, including his father's. Like a dutiful son, he refrained from flinching at the 'proud' slap on the back and the hyperbolic boasting about his accomplishments in Smallville.

God, this was going to be a long night.

The usual appetizer of mutual flattery wasn't quite finished when the night took an interesting turn, though. Through the still open door, a raised voice drifted, an elderly-sounding female voice, strident with anger.

Both Luthors paused as the infinitely patient doorman attempted to explain. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lane, but the benefit is strictly invitation only and your name isn't on the list--"

"My son's name wasn't in the will either, and your precious founders used that to rob him of his father. I will not let you do the same to his granddaughters."

"Ma'am, I have no idea what you're talking about--"

"The Cranston Foundation is still a family-run organization, is it not?"

"Yes, ma'am, but that--"

"These two girls are family."

His face clouding over, Lionel turned to the red-faced pug of a man he'd been speaking to. "If you'll excuse me for a moment."

The elder Luthor stormed away, Lex chuckling in amusement. He swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and was about to take a drink when a familiar voice caught his ear.

"Gram, it's no big deal. Let's just go, please?"

Well *this* was a surprise. Setting the flute down carefully on the table, with a few quick strides he found his father bickering at the door with an old woman who appeared to be in her nineties. Surprisingly thick silver hair was crimped into a modern-day approximation of a Marcel wave and she was garbed in an elegant, long-sleeved floor-length black beaded dress. But it was the two embarrassed teenagers on either side of her--one blonde, one brunette--that caught his attention.

"This is an outrage," Lionel was fuming predictably as Lex arrived. "I want all of you out of here, now, or I'm calling the police."

Anger flared hotly--as usual, his father had about as much regard for his fellow human beings as most scientists had for the rats they experimented upon. Realizing he had to act quickly, the younger Luthor stepped forward. "Miss Sullivan. I see you made it."

Chloe Sullivan abandoned pleading with her grandmother to freeze in place, horror-stricken. "Mr. Luthor."

"I believe you've already met my father," he nodded towards the party in question with another dazzlingly false smile.

"You know this...?" His father couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

The grin that broadened over Lex's face was almost genuine. "Chloe Sullivan is a dear friend of mine from Smallville." He waved a dismissing hand at the doorman. "And my guest, as are her charming relatives."

The little blonde smiled weakly at him then, looking equally tempted to hug him and sink through the floor all at once. Lionel fumed silently, not daring to contradict him without spoiling his carefully groomed image. The power that futility conveyed to Lex was more than a little heady.

After a moment's decision, Lex held out his arm to Clark's friend, nodding for two of the many servers in attendance to do the same for the older woman and the other girl. Chloe clamped onto his arm, her voice hissing out in a whisper. "Thank you."

"Do you make a habit of crashing expensive parties, Miss Sullivan?" he murmured teasingly in response.

The blonde flushed furiously, almost dark enough to match her neatly tailored red silk suit. "Oh, God, no. We thought Gram was going to take us to see Phantom or Les Mis or something--"

Lex chuckled. "Speaking of which, if we are to maintain the illusion that you and your family are here at my invitation, I should probably know the names of my guests."

She nodded, understanding. "Gram is Margo Lane, and that's my cousin, Lois. Also a Lane." She pointed to the silky-haired brunette, who looked vaguely reminiscent of Lana Lang, ironically enough. "Lois' father was my mom's brother."

A moment of silence fell between them, then Chloe whispered admiringly: "I can't believe you said that in public!"

He looked at her. "Said what?"

"That thing about your father."

"That you'd already met him?"

"No, the part about him treating people like lab rats."

For one shocked moment, Lex's prided composure slipped and he stopped dead. How the hell had she known what he was thinking? "I never said anything of the sort."

"I..." Smallville's favorite girl reporter found herself stuttering. "You...you didn't?"

He shook his head.

"Oh...God, I am so sorry."

"You're forgiven," he reassured her. "And to be honest..." He leaned in a little closer and dropped his own voice almost to a whisper. "That's not an altogether inaccurate assessment."

While Chloe suppressed a giggle of surprise, Lex scanned the room for an empty table. He found one that was almost deserted--except for a familiar face about his own age--and approached it.

"Mr. Wayne."

Gotham City's youngest multi-billionaire looked up with only mild interest.

"I notice my father didn't reserve a seat for you at the head table, my apologies."

Bruce Wayne smiled, amused. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor, but I'm not offended."

"I'm relieved to hear that, but it would do me a great service if you could take my seat--you see, my three guests here were also seated incorrectly and I don't want to desert them."

The dark-haired young mogul laughed, glancing from Chloe to Lois and nodding in comprehension. "I can see that. Very well, I'd be happy to take your seat."

He rose from his chair like a graceful bird taking flight, pausing only long enough to bestow a gentlemanly kiss on the hand on each of Lex's three 'guests.' "Enjoy your meal, ladies."

Lois recovered first and flopped down in a seat at the table. "Oh my God. I can't believe I just met Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah," Chloe breathed, falling into the chair next to her.

The dark-haired teenager shot a daggered glance at her blonde cousin before leaning in and stage-whispering, "Why didn't you ever tell me you knew Lex Luthor???"

"Because I don't know him," the other girl insisted in response. "Not really! We just have a mutual friend." Eyes widened in sudden realization and Chloe spun to glare at her great-grandmother. "Which you were counting on, weren't you, Gram?"

Lex swallowed a laugh.

"Lex, I'd like a word with you," a low, pinched voice spoke at his elbow, and the younger Luthor turned to find his father glowering at him.

With a nod to the three women at the table, he let Lionel pull him aside. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll fall off the radar again if I'm not at your table?"

"Is it too much to ask that my son show a little respect for his father by not making whatever contempt you've decided to feel for me so damned obvious?" was the quietly seething response.

"You wouldn't want me to ignore my guests, would you? Just think how bad that would look."

Lionel jerked his head in the direction of the head table, his voice taking on that tone of placating condescension that passed for sincerity in his mind. "But, son...*that man* is a competitor."

Again, the younger man found himself fighting back laughter. "Well then, *Dad,* just consider it an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the competition."

He walked away without another word.

"Sorry about that, Ladies," Lex apologized upon arriving back at their table.

The old woman sitting beside her granddaughters smiled at him. "It's all right, Mr. Luthor. You've shown us more consideration tonight than your entire family has in my lifetime."

"Please, call me Lex. And that goes for all of you." That last was directed pointedly at the girl who'd ignored previous attempts to worm a more casual form of address out of her.

"Lex." Chloe's cousin appeared to be testing out the feel of the name on her tongue, and apparently she liked it, because she repeated it. "Lex, how on earth do you and Chloe have a mutual friend?"

He glanced at the blonde, who had grimace at the question, and felt a sudden flash of insight--he wasn't the only one that Lois Lane reminded of Lana Lang, and young Miss Sullivan didn't seem to want her cousin to know anything about Clark Kent.

"It's a long story, and since you three have saved me from a potentially long, boring evening, I won't undo that by sharing it just yet."

The brunette looked crushed; Chloe let out a breath of relief.

"Speaking of which, if you don't mind me asking, Ms. Lane..." Now he directed his attention to the older woman. "...what did inspire you to try to crash the party, pray tell?"

Margo Lane smiled enigmatically and reached for the glass of champagne someone had poured for her while he was baiting his father. He noticed for the first time the ring she wore on her left hand--a thick silver band set with a large, smooth-cut ruby. For some reason, the ring and the simple design etched in the band seemed familiar. And even more oddly, from the look on her face, she seemed to know that.

"Maybe I wanted my girls to meet the last Cranston heir," she suggested.

"Except I'm not the last Cranston heir," Lex pointed out. "Only--"

"--the last surviving one," Chloe interrupted quietly, her voice sympathetic. "Your brother, Julian, would've been the last. If he'd lived."

The surviving son of Lionel Luthor felt suddenly cold. He'd never told anyone about Julian, except Clark--had his friend betrayed his confidence?

"That's the second time tonight you've read my mind, Chloe," he joked, forcing himself to sound casual.

The blonde's horrified eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "Oh, God, I did it again, didn't I?" she moaned in dismay. She looked about ready to crawl under the table but settled for burying her face in her hands instead.

"It's all right, dear--it runs in the family," 'Gram' reassured her, taking another sip of champagne.

Family. This was the second time the old woman had mentioned family, and her comment about him being the "last Cranston heir" had sounded like a challenge. Not to mention she was the only one at the table not unnerved by the fact that Chloe Sullivan seemed to suddenly have a peep-hole into his mind...and he into hers if that revelation about Clark had been more than a moment of brilliant deduction.

To say that said "last Cranston heir" had a lot of questions would've been an understatement by that point.

Feeling slightly off-kilter, Lex signaled for a waiter to bring him a champagne glass of his own. Well, if nothing else, the rest of the evening certainly wouldn't be boring.