I'm still new to the game, so this is a very, very late response to Fenris Shadesekker's red kryptonite challenge where Clark gets infected by Smallville style red-K (episode: Crimson). This is also part of my ongoing deals with Ashlee (fics for videos) and Hellacre (fics for fics).

Summary: A peace mission to a distant world results in behavioral changes in Clark. Mayhem ensues as the formbook gets thrown out the window and our fave Kryptonian takes a walk on the wild side (If you know me, you know damn well what I mean, LOL). This piece of fiction, like most of my others, is set in the universe of the DCAU, post-JLU, and is an unapologetic, absolutely shameless and straight up (or not so straight up) offering of SM/WW goodness. Of course, there's some twisted OOCness to be encountered in the latter half of the story. Well, it's within expectations for a red K-infected Clark (or at least in my mind it is, LOL).

Disclaimer: I've said it before- I own absolutely nothing here, DC and Warner Bros do. If I owned them, things would be radically different, Clark would actually shine on a regular basis and of course, Bruce Timm would've never got his paws on Superman or Wonder Woman in a million years. I'm just an overworked senior resident doing this solely for fun, not profit; so don't sue me. If you do, you won't get a cent in any case.

Rating: Rated M for exploration of mature themes, especially in later chapters. Do not, I repeat, do NOT read further if you're below 18 years of age or are uncomfortable with descriptive scenes of nudity and explicit sexuality or violence (of any variety, hehe). If you're 18 or above, and are comfortable with this sort of thing and enjoy this pairing, then buckle up and enjoy the ride. This one's for you :-D

You've been forewarned— this one's a bit towards the dark end of the spectrum. You don't like the pairing, then stay away, and do me a favor— refrain from flaming me for the heck of it. I've dealt with enough of that sanctimonious nonsense and can live without that, thank you.

Thanks yet again to the effervescent Angelic Enchantress for the beta and invaluable inputs. You got the first peek at the story. Are you happy now?

As always, feedback is highly appreciated, especially advice on how to improve this. I'm sure there are a million ways to do so. So come on people, please read and review!

Without further ado, let the games begin. Have fun. I know I did ;-)


Code Red: CRITICAL MASS

By Cael-El595

Ch 1: Checkmate

Centauri V, the fifth planet orbiting Alpha Centauri:

Galatea sat on her throne in the Centaurian courtroom her husband, Overlord Ragnor had taken for himself after seizing absolute control of the planet. Normally, such matters bored her to tears, but today was different. Today, they had visitors from other worlds, representatives of the Justice League, come to negotiate peace and the safety and dignified release of the overthrown king, Telnas IV. None of that interested her. But there was one, a legend across the known universe, who caught her eye.

There he was, in the flesh himself, standing in front of her. Unmistakable for anyone else and carrying a noble bearing on his handsome face. He was a lot larger than she had thought he would be, standing tall at a towering six feet five inches, with a frame so well defined that she could tell he had not a spare ounce of fat on his body. This was of course accentuated by his clothes, which were almost primary in design, so that he came off as rather austere in appearance — like a knight who had just made his pledge, only with lots more style. He had a skin-tight blue uniform that hugged every muscle from his chest to his calves, a red and gold belt around his waist and his feet in red boots. A rich crimson cape fell from his shoulders, contrasting the blue hue of his outfit, as did the large red and gold pentagonal shield that she'd read was a family crest. It did him credit, the symbol managing to emphasize his already impressive physique. His eyes were blue, a more vivid shade than she'd ever seen in anyone, and they sparkled with intelligence and warmth. All in all, a very pleasing sight indeed. But there was something else. He appeared weary, like he was carrying a burden.

Or maybe he was, seeing as he carried the weight of an entire race on his shoulders, and now he was here to broker the safety of another.

Galatea supposed that was what came from being a god among men. She had met several vastly powerful beings before in her long, very tired life. Although they had all been highly variable in appearance, they were all bonded by the same curious apathy, a deadly confidence that could only come from possessing near- invincibility. This one seemed different, with no sign of that apathy in his eyes, despite the fact that he was undoubtedly as invincible as those very demigods. It was as if he didn't consider himself one. Well, that was fairly obvious. After all, here he was, parleying like an equal instead of lording over them and delivering ultimatums.

She had done her research on this one. He was older than the rest of the seven, this Superman — 35, or so it said. He didn't look 35. He looked younger, but nevertheless, exuded maturity beyond his years and virile energy that pulled her to him. He also looked human, despite the fact that he wasn't. More than his human phenotype, he exhibited the organic behavior of his adopted world instead of the sterile mindset of his lost home world, like so many citizens of Earth. She wondered how he had found Earth, that mass of slavering, debauched revelry, with its own peculiar sense of grandeur. She had no wish to ever find out, not that she'd be able had she wanted to.

I am a Magmasapien. I was created to entice and seduce men over the centuries. It is the very purpose I was created for. I would have it no other way.

Then why was she so sad?

Another who was dressed similarly in red, gold and blue, and yet was so different accompanied him. She had heard about this one, the heroine known as Wonder Woman to all, and Diana as she had been christened at birth. Galatea found her rather interesting. It seemed this woman was an Amazon, sentient clay infused with life, not unlike herself, except that this one was created mystically rather than by a process of scientific intervention— of genetic manipulation. She was just his friend, they said, his second in command, though she looked more like his lover. She would make for a worthy adversary indeed. Diana was, by far, the most beautiful woman she had ever encountered. She was taller than the average woman, taller than herself and almost as tall as him in fact, with elegant curly raven hair. She exuded sexuality and innocence in equal doses. In fact, they complemented one another perfectly. She represented the feminine ideal, and yet was a warrior without equal who had embraced the role of a teacher; he was the masculine ideal, yet a pacifist foremost who still fought for what mattered. When they melded together, they would flow into one continuous cosmic stream, like a yin to a yang, neither knowing which was which. The creative force coupled with the power of nature.

She found it so perverse she wanted to clap her hands in glee.

Diana had loved him, so it seemed, before she had ever met him. It was written all over them, even if they were unaware of it. But it was painfully obvious to Galatea in the way this Amazon looked at him. It was evident in the way whenever her passion threatened to turn to anger; his hand on her arm would calm her. It was destiny written at Diana's birth; she had been fated to do so. Soul mates, created for each other. And yet, they were kept apart, forbidden from having each other because he was besotted with another, a human. Such passion, and it was all locked away from each other and from themselves.

How deliciously tragic.

Galatea wondered what that felt like. Love that was preordained. Love encoded in one's genetic makeup. Oh yes, she had no doubt Diana loved him, and he her. But more than that, she wondered what it was like to be denied. And by something as inherent as their own innate sense of right and wrong, their honor.

And what about this? This fascinating attraction she herself was feeling for him now? Had she been fated to do so as well? Was this part of her purpose?

Kal. The name rolled off in her mind liquidly. It was so simple and practical, yet suggestive and seductive. Kal. The name opened up myriad possibilities with its connotations, like the twists and turns of a labyrinth or the delightful secrets locked away in the puzzle that was the mind. The name suited him like it could suit no other. She wondered what it would feel like to actually say his name on her tongue and luxuriate in its sensuality.

Oh, but she was becoming as debauched as those humans.

Her husband was droning off again, of course, that egotistical imbecile. Oh, but he could talk. And he was talking, of course, on and on, the syllables flowing into one another like the asteroid belt surrounding his home world, all about his status as he continued to throw his weight around, dictating extravagant terms and conditions. She had stopped listening long ago. He was so boring he was becoming the very bourgeoisie he despised.

And then he spoke. Kal, the legend of the universe himself. He was saying something to her husband, like "You already know why we're here," and "No, thank you. That won't be necessary." He spoke earnestly, with unmistakable sincerity and passion. She liked his voice. It was young and vibrant, with a resonant timbre, and she found it strangely appealing.

She was finding everything about him appealing.

Later, her husband would go after her, this woman who looked like she was created to fulfill fantasies and try to add her to his not so secret harem, just for the challenge of it and to feed his galactic sized ego. He knew that she knew about his little love trysts; it was almost as though he was daring her to do something about them.

And maybe I will, my love.

Sadly though, she understood the reason as to why he had to have his little releases. Immortality could be its own curse, the initial passion burning out to make way for disillusionment and apathy. His little games were what still kept the fire burning. And the why of course. The knowledge of that why gave her power.

It was a rare union of souls that produced a love that was everlasting, one that withstood the ravages of time; that resisted entropy. She could read emotions like a book, even through the heavy veils guarding these two. She could feel the aura they gave off together.

All too abruptly now, Ragnor was ending the meeting. With a threat, naturally, as with the nature of all things connected to him. With an arrogant swagger, he got up to leave.

"Where are you going?" she asked him, knowing the answer all too well.

"Please my dear, affairs of State beckon." He nodded dismissively at his unwelcome guests, "Consider this discussion closed."

Kal was none too pleased, his voice like steel, "This isn't over."

Go then, my love. She had already made up her mind.

She watched the visitors being escorted to the transport capsule. Kal. She liked watching him. He moved with an easy confidence, a purposeful stride. She wondered how he would look fitted in royal robes. If things went according to her plan, she might have to wonder no longer.

They would be in for a surprise, these visitors from the star system Sol. She would make sure of that.

Arising from the throne, she exited the court through a back door and took a private capsule down to the ground floor, where she knew they would arrive. She wondered what he thought of her. Was she beautiful to him? She knew she was beautiful to look at; there was no doubt about that. She stood tall and svelte, with exquisite, gold-flecked light green eyes, a shimmering blue carapace on her shoulders, and titan hair falling to her shoulders in rich curls. Her kind had evolved to invoke desire. But perhaps he was too far-gone with his human mate to even notice anyone around him anymore.

There was only one way to find out.

She waited in front of the main pod tube. She didn't need to wait long. The doors yawned upon, and she found herself staring at him again. And his confidante.

"If you want to save the King and Queen," she said, training her eyes on Kal, "follow me."

She swept them into one of the recreation rooms, as good a place as any to discuss this. There was a man in there, cleaning the Grecian looking fountain in the center of the room.

"Get out," she ordered. And he did, scurrying away like a terrified little hare.

She strode to a mirror on the wall, and took out her lip-gloss. "I'm so sick of his warmongering, that overgrown brute." She gazed at Kal's reflection in the mirror as she delicately outlined her lips. The bright light shone off his skin, giving it a sun kissed glow. On him, it was very becoming. "A long time ago, when we first met, it was so different. He was so different. Back then," She paused, curving her lips up slightly. "He used to be a lot more like you."

When he didn't reply, she turned. "I will give you what you want, but first, there's something I need from you."

"What?" he asked.

She breathed in sharply. Really, she didn't stand to lose anything, "I want you to make love to me."

"Come again?" Diana interjected, her voice laced with an edge.

"That's what I said." She turned her gaze upon his friend who loved him so and didn't even know it. The poor girl. Her voice betrayed her true feelings. Like all Magmasapiens, Galatea could see right through the emotional firewall.

"A night with him, that is all I ask. It's a small price to pay really."

It was amusing to look at them both. The corner of Wonder Woman's mouth was twitching with barely suppressed rage. Superma- Kal's face recovered its composure, though she could tell he was a little shocked by her effrontery. Let them get used to it. After all, she had been created to be hot-blooded and provocative, and she was enjoying every moment of it.

"Why?" Clark finally asked.

"You love each other, don't you? It's all over you both. There was a time when I knew what that felt like. I want to sample it again, remember what it felt like, that's all."

Neither of them responded to that. More significant for Galatea in their silence was the absence of a denial. Eventually Diana spoke up, "We don't have time for these games," she said, "King Telnas' and Queen Magdala's lives are at stake here. Ragnor might execute them any minute."

"I'm an empath. We'll be in a dream like subconscious state the whole time. My clan has mastered the technique. It is a world within the mind, quite a feat of psychic tuning, I assure you. It is a skill my kind are renowned for. What might pass perhaps as a lifetime in it would seem only mere minutes to you here. I promise you, he'll be returned to you before you even know it. And then I will deliver to you what you came for- the King."

When they did not reply, too stunned, as she noted with pleasure, she added, "Think about it. Talk about it, if you must. But don't take too long. Remember, my husband is ruthless and his generals are swift."

She'd made the first move, set this deadly game in motion. That would do for now. Everything else would fall into place in no time, in ripe position for a checkmate, she was sure of it. Satisfied with that knowledge, that she'd drawn first blood, she stood back, waiting for them to recover from the numbness they no doubt felt so they could process her offer.


TBC

A/N: So, what do you think? Loved it? Hated it? Just let me know all the same, as long as you can give me your reasons why you hated it. Confused? Don't be. Galatea's recognizably inspired by certain DCU characters, some obvious ones and some not so obvious ones. Which ones they are shall become clear in coming chapters. Until the next chapter, take care.

Cael