Author's Note: This isa prequel to "In His Heart". Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Triangle. Thanks to Djinn for the beta.

Intervention

by Athena Phoenix

Clark checked his PDA, compulsively, one last time. Yup, this is the place… "In front of the Ermenegildo Zegna shop." The lobby of the Hotel Intercontinental Metropolis was as bustling as ever, the cavernous atrium towering fifty stories overhead. 1:17 PM – leave it to Bruce, he thought wryly.He resisted the temptation to use his super-hearing; he hated what he would sometimes overhear, and besides, it was more fun to be surp-

"Right on time, I see." Bruce was standing two feet from him.

-rised. How does he do that? "Wouldn't want to keep you waiting, Bruce. I know how busy you must be with the details. Um, was there a particular place you wanted us to conduct the interview?"

"Let's go to the 2222 Lounge. It's quiet during the day."

Clark nodded and they set off for the lounge. Clark was wearing a sport coat, no tie, and Bruce had on a nondescript baggy sweater and pants meant to disguise his musculature.

Bruce made a show of perusing the drinks menu before settling on an oversized Brandy Alexander, patting the waitress lightly on the rump and calling her Brandy. Clark ordered a soft drink, mildly complained that the Coke was "a bit too fizzy" to the unfortunate waitress (whose real name was Candace), and acted as mortified as he could.

"Well, so much for the dog and pony show," Clark muttered. "Switching the recorder on – now. Testing one, two, three." He hit the Stop button, rewound, played back.

"Test-" his voice sounded.

"Okay, good." He pressed the Record button and switched to his more resonant tone. "This is Clark Kent in an exclusive interview with famed philanthropist, businessman and –" he cut himself off as he saw Bruce blowing kisses at one of the bar patrons "-and bon vivant Bruce Wayne, whose company Wayne Enterprises has just announced a major investment in the Metropolis area. Mr. Wayne, it's a pleasure, as always." It's a trip, as always…

"Yes, wellI must admit to being a bit surprised at all this attention. Compared to the money that my good friend Lex pours into this fine city, my paltry contribution hardly seems to merit a mention in the society pages, much less a visit from an ace reporter such as yourself."

Clark smiled. We're doing it like a dance? Okay, then. "You flatter me exceedingly, Mr. Wayne. Now, our readers would certainly like you to elaborate a little on your plans. Your press release earlier this week was a little scant on detail." As in none.

"Yes, well – Brandy dear, a little refresher here, sweet thing? – anyway, the gist is that Wayne Enterprises will be taking over and rehabilitating the abandoned Iron Works down by the harbor. This much was mentioned, of course. But the key is that the project will seek to not only provide light and medium manufacturing jobs, but will also provide housing and other amenities for the workers."

Clark was intrigued, but a little disappointed. "This sounds a bit like a company town out of the early twentieth century…"

Bruce waved his hand dismissively. "Things aren't always what they seem to be at first glance… as you should know." The last was delivered with an underlying sharpness which was more Batman than Bruce.

Clark blinked, but remained silent.

"Anyway, yes, the idea does at first sound rather… New Dealish, I will admit. However, the entire project will be run like a cooperative, with every resident owning a share in the enterprise. Private ownership will be part of the deal – everyone will own their dwelling, be it outright or through loans we will help underwrite, and everyone will own equal shares of Wayne Enterprises common stock. No freeloading, no warehousing. As for the rest, I have some material you may find illuminating – here."

And he produced a flash drive with a flourish. "Plenty of details in this little doohickey – Brandy, you're a doll, you know that?"

He passed the drive to Clark and cocked his head to one side, resting it on his right hand. "All written by pointy-headed economists… You know, it's so difficult for me sometimes to follow all these details. That's why I'm so glad I can depend on my team to get things done while I'm otherwise occupied." His smile was suddenly hard. "I mean, were there any indication of favoritism, or bias, well – this whole charade would just fall apart at the seams, wouldn't it? Leave her."

Clark was taken aback. "I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say –"

"You heard me. I said, 'Leave her.'" There wasn't a hint of Bruce Wayne in that last.

Clark's eyes widened. The recorder was paused in a burst of super-speed. "You mean

– it's not that – " He sat back, stunned. "I can't do that, Bruce."

"Why not?"

The words hung in the air for a moment. Finally, Clark replied, "I promised."

Bruce looked like he wanted to shake Clark back to his senses. He reached out, pulled back just as quickly. "You did what?"

Clark shook his head, perplexed. "You were there, Bruce – the wedding vows, remember?"

Bruce seemed to be looking at him out of the corner of his eye. When he spoke again, it was with very clearly delineated syllables, as if he did not want to have to repeat himself. "I mean Diana, Clark, not Lois. Leave Diana, for God's sake

Clark felt a rush of fury and embarrassment. "Bruce, we are not…" his voice trailed off, lowered to a whisper."We are not…we have not slept together!"

"Sometimes sex is the least intimate thing two people can do together, Clark." Bruce's tone was impatient, as if he were having to explain to a child that "don't touch" also meant "don't lick". "I'd almost be relieved if you two were just screwing – you'd likely get it out of your systems and move on. Instead, you pine and moon over each other. You obsess over each other, ignoring everyone else.

"Don't think the others haven't noticed," he continued, cutting off Clark's feeble attempts at a defense. "So you're not sleeping together. Big deal. You're ignoring your wife, whom you just said you promised to love, and pissing off your teammates. Oh, and hurting Diana, as well."

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Diana's a big girl, Bruce. She was around while you and I were still in diapers, and she'll still be around once you and I are worm food. Don't tell me you think you have to protect her from me."

Bruce was silent for a moment, as if recalibrating his attack. "Whatever. Yeah. She's immortal. But Lois deserves better than to spend her short human life – Mister Kryptonian – with a man who only stays with her out of obligation."

"But I –" Clark began, then stopped, deciding that the best defense was a good offense. "You wouldn't happen to have an ulterior motive here, would you? What's the matter, Bruce, bored with Selina already?"

"Leave her out of this. We're discussing you and this oh-so-trite love triangle you've created."

"I didn't –"

"Spare me. It doesn't matter how it started. Or why. How's it going to end, Clark? You can't keep this up."

Clark sighed explosively. "What do you want me to say, Bruce? You're always the man with the plan – just tell me what you're getting at."

Bruce leaned a little closer. "You say you love Lois? Start acting like it.Go home after your shift ends."

Clark crossed his arms. "Is that all?"

"For now." As their waitress approached, Bruce's expression softened into vapidity. "Brandy dear, I thought you'd forgotten about us! We'd like the check, whenever you've got a moment."

He turned to Clark. "If you have any questions later about our plans for Metropolis, contact Amy Jenkins or Will Hardy – their numbers are listed in the proposal."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne," Clark replied. "Would you like me to submit what comes out of this meeting for your approval?"

"No. I trust you, Kent, and besides, I know I'll see the results – ah, thank you, Brandy." He took some bills from his money clip and slid them into the discreet leather folder, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "It's been a pleasure."

The End