"Limited to ones' Imagination" - DC Fanfic

League Pizza had always been a bold marketing move—capitalizing on the Justice League's growing popularity. The neon-lit sign above them glowed brightly against the dusk sky, featuring a pizza slice with a cape. Beneath it, the famous slogan stood proudly:

"The Most Heroic Pizza Around!"

It was corny, sure, but that didn't stop the place from being packed.

Families, young couples, and groups of teenagers filled the booths and tables, eagerly chomping down on superhero-themed pizzas. Kids ran around with their plastic Superman and Batman cups, while a TV in the corner played reruns of Justice League battles with dramatic voiceovers.

Alex and Margaret sat in one of the corner booths, away from the loudest parts of the restaurant. Their table was littered with a nearly finished pizza—the "Martian Meat Lovers Special"—and a couple of drinks.

Margaret took a sip of her soda before sighing, shaking her head. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice with my life."

Alex raised an eyebrow, chewing on his crust. "What do you mean?"

She set her drink down and leaned back against the seat. "I could've taken the easy route, you know? My family was well-off. I could've lived a comfortable life, played my cards right, maybe even became some rich guy's trophy wife." She chuckled. "Hell, with the way some of my old friends went, I could've been a sugar baby instead of a politician."

Alex smirked. "I mean, you do have the looks for it."

Margaret gave him a mock glare, lightly kicking him under the table. "Careful, Alex. I might start thinking you have a thing for older women."

Alex grinned. "I'm just saying. But instead of lounging around in luxury, you decided to actually make a difference."

Margaret sighed, stirring the ice in her drink with her straw. "Yeah, but was it the right choice? Did I waste all that comfort just to fight a battle that never really ends?"

Alex set his pizza down and reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. "If you didn't take this path, then who would I have constantly checked out at Quickmart?"

Margaret looked at him, confused at first, until Alex smirked.

"Not many people color-code their grocery lists."

She laughed. "I told you before, that wasn't for me, it was for James."

Alex leaned back. "That's even better. You're not just a hard-working woman, you're a great mother too."

Margaret's smile softened. "You know, that's really sweet of you to say."

"Hey, I mean it."

Margaret took another sip of her drink before glancing at Alex. "Enough about me. What about your story?"

Alex shrugged. "Not much to tell."

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "Come on. If it's not personal, at least tell me something."

Alex sighed, resting his arms on the table. "Well, my parents raised me until I was about six. They were good people—gave me as much as they could. But then…"

Margaret noticed the shift in his voice.

"…They died."

Margaret's expression grew serious. "I'm sorry."

Alex waved a hand dismissively. "It's been years. But yeah, a malfunctioning robot killed them."

Margaret frowned. "Like LexCorp's Amazos?"

"Something like that," Alex muttered. "Of course, the company paid out compensation money, but I was still shipped off to an orphanage. Luckily, I got a good education. They called me a genius."

Margaret tilted her head. "But?"

Alex smirked. "But I just didn't want to work."

Margaret laughed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded. "I mean, I could easily get a job anywhere. But why bother? I don't really want anything."

Margaret hummed, crossing her arms. "At least you're not depressed and doing nothing with your life."

Alex chuckled. "Gee, thanks for the compliment."

They continued eating, the conversation flowing easily between them.

Margaret told him about her struggles in politics, how difficult it was to navigate the system as someone who genuinely wanted to help.

Alex, in turn, shared small stories from his time at Quickmart, from annoying customers to the weirdest purchases he'd ever seen.

Eventually, they finished their meal, and Margaret glanced at the time.

"I gotta head to work," she said, stretching. "Maybe next time, you can come to my place."

Alex smiled. "I'd like that."

As they stepped outside, Margaret waved before heading toward her car.

Alex, however, felt something off.

A black luxury car was parked a few spaces away.

And as Margaret drove off, the car door opened.

A young woman stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement.

She was tall, elegant, and carried herself with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how much power she wielded.

Mercy Graves.

Lex Luthor's personal assistant.

Her sharp eyes locked onto Alex as she approached.

"Alex, is it?" she asked, stopping a few feet away.

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. "That depends. Who's asking?"

Mercy's lips curled into a small smirk. "No need for the act. My boss would like to extend an offer."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Lex Luthor has a proposition for me?"

Mercy nodded. "He believes someone with your… intelligence would be wasted working at a grocery store."

Alex chuckled. "That's funny. I like my easy job."

Mercy's smirk didn't falter. "And yet, you're still here, standing in front of me, listening."

Alex shrugged. "Curiosity."

Mercy tilted her head. "Then how about this? Hear him out. No obligations. Just a simple conversation."

Alex considered it for a moment before exhaling.

"As long as it's nothing more than a conversation."

Mercy's smirk widened. "Of course."

She turned, gesturing toward the car. "Shall we?"

Alex glanced at the vehicle before nodding.

And just like that, he stepped into the vehicle.