Note: I want to thank all my wonderful reviewers, followers and readers. On a side not, I hope this story doesn't bore. It will most likely be short, only two or three mini stories with short drabbles in between. Unless of course, I think of other things to add. As for the question of maternity, well, lets just say, it can be anyone you want unless stated otherwise. After several add-ons and corrections I am still not satisfied with this chapter, however, I did not want to keep everyone waiting, so please enjoy and point out any mistakes I may have missed.

There was no one else on the world that could surprise the man of steel as much as a certain billionaire could. Of course when the other man (metaphorically and literally) dropped the bomb on him it was usually in his other persona, under a dark cowl accompanied by a harsh glare.

So when he was personally called into the office of Daily Planet's Editor-in-chief Perry White with news that Bruce Wayne himself called for him, there was something about it that just didn't sit right with Clark. He had only stayed long enough to hear that Bruce wanted to have a private meeting with him in his manor before he stood and ran out of the office, ignoring Lois' shouts for him to wait for her.

He had shed his outer layer of clothing unmindful that it was not Superman that Bruce was asking for but Clark Kent.

What bothered him was the manner that Bruce had chosen to come to him. Why not just call him personally? Why go through his boss? Heart pounding he sped to the manor whilst his mind came up with several scenarios, all somehow ending in a bloody battle. He shook his head from the negative thoughts but kept at bay the fact that this was Gotham. Gotham was different. Her personality as unpredictable as her most demented villain; anything could happen there.

When he reached the manor however, he was greeted by Alfred as always although there was a certain twinkle in the old mans eyes that put his nerves on edge. The older gentleman nodded for him to enter as he held a change of clothes in one hand.

The faithful butler eyed his disheveled state, undoubtedly knowing that Clark had assumed the worse and rushed to the manor. It was a nice thought to the aging man to know that there was one friend of his master that would rush to his aid if ever he was in trouble. That did not however, excuse the rule he had set up about costumes inside the manor and he ushered the red and blue clad hero into a guest room to change.

After exchanging his clothes, he was led toward the familiar study and Clark forced himself not to use his x-ray vision to see what was going on. He waited patiently as the butler knocked politely announcing his presence before he nodded to him to enter. Without hesitation he opened the door. There he was met with the sight of Bruce Wayne with a tiny baby in his arms.

Wait.

Clark blinked, and for a second, thought that maybe he had somehow entered an alternate reality.

He stood there watching as Bruce tenderly held the baby in his arms; the tiny thing was clothed in a dark blue one piece pajama with a matching beanie. Dark blues looked up, the normally cold eyes looked softer than Clark had ever seen before; the same twinkle in those eyes that matched his butlers was quickly hidden.

"Clark." The billionaire started, going on like any other day, "I need a favor."

The click of the door shutting behind him felt like the closing of a portal and it was then that he knew he had entered an alternate reality.

Bruce had known that announcing to the world that he had a son was not going to be easy. The Paparazzi (especially in Gotham) were like starved lions prowling the jungle ready to attack anything they deemed juicy. He remembered his own experience with them: the bright flashes and cold eyes staring at him as he was shot question after question right after his parents' death. Their words, like bullets; had pierced through him without any sympathy. He had been afraid to step out of the mansion at that time, paranoid that any human bloodhound would jump out and attack him.

He knew all too well how celebrity journalists worked. They would do anything to be on the front page. It didn't matter to them if the person they had to harass was a young boy who just lost his parents. In Gotham, it was either you were at the very top or the very bottom, there was no in between. Which was why Bruce was not about to thrust his baby in the middle of it.

He knew once the world found out about his child many would question the infant's paternity. They would demand evidence, and even after evidence was found they would deny the claims. They would tear the story apart, distort the facts and then publish something with their own assumptions. It sickened Bruce how willing some people were to make money and it boiled his blood at the thought of someone willing enough to target a baby, especially if that baby was his.

This was what had pushed him to come up with this plan.

He was hesitant of course. Showing the world that he had an heir would surely prompt many to go after his helpless son. It was danger he knew that would continually follow Richard as he grew up, but he also knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was found out; which was where he found himself in front of one of Daily Planet's reporters. At least with Clark as the editor it would be under his rules and his terms. He could control what he wanted to share, while still able to protect his son.

Currently, the other man stood frozen by the door, his blue eyes which hid behind the thin framed glasses were focused on the story at hand.

"Is he…yours?" Clark asked, uncertainty seeping into the question. Bruce nodded, unable to say anything else

"Are…Are you sure?" Bruce nodded again. Even before he had taken the test Bruce already knew that Richard was his, like a gut instinct (a fatherly instinct). He knew without a doubt that Dick was his son, but he knew that he still needed evidence. There was only one person he trusted enough to test him and his baby. Even though he had the equipment and skills for the test, he also needed a professional's signature and legal declaration, which he'd gotten.

Careful not to disturb the baby in his arms, he picked up the paternity tests on the table and slowly walked toward the taller man, handing him the papers.

Clark took the papers without a word but his attention was on the infant in his friends' arms. The tiny boy was wide awake, large crystal blue eyes turned to him. Clark wondered if the child's eyes were developed enough to see him as he curled himself on his fathers' broad chest, a thumb positioned in his mouth. The man of steel smiled softly at the baby as he noticed the tiny round ears on the boys' hat. It seemed unreal; slowly Clark lifted a finger ignoring the protective growl coming from the other man as he softly poked a puffy cheek, amazed at the softness.

Bruce frowned as the baby whimpered at the disturbance.

"He's not a doll Kent." The father snapped which Clark quickly pulled back, holding his hands in surrender at the piercing glare.

"Sorry, it's just…you and a baby. How did that happen?" The other man raised an eyebrow, amusement and annoyance conveyed in the simple gesture. Clark felt his face burn with embarrassment when realized what he had asked.

"I mean I know how-but- I meant…" The reporter sputtered before stopping altogether, instead turning his focus on the papers in his hands. Baby blue eyes scanned through the document, roaming through the biology before it settled on the numbers on the bottom.

Probability of Parentage: 99.999% and underneath that was the elegant signature of one Leslie Thompkins. Just like a punch to the gut that could knock Superman to his knees he finally realized why he was here, as he had already pieced together what Bruce was asking from him.

"You…you want me to be the one to introduce him to the world?" The billionaire stayed silent his gaze hard and thoughtful as he looked down at the baby in his arms. The wide blue eyes stared back, before the little guy pulled out his thumb and let out a gurgle, his mouth turning up in a small smile. Clark stared at the father and son, seeing the warm smile the father returned.

"If I had a choice, I wouldn't be putting him out there at all; I don't want my son to be in the middle of a scandal war. But…It'd be better if everyone heard it from me personally and…" he turned his eyes back to Clark. "I can't…" the father paused, the word feeling wrong on his tongue before he corrected himself, "I don't trust anyone else."

Clark stared wide eyed at the other man, shock clearly written on his face. After he had debuted as Superman, he knew that Bruce as Batman never fully trusted him. He thought that the other man only saw him as a last resort ally or back up muscle. Yet to find out that the man trusted him enough to put the life of his child in his hands, Clark wondered how to answer to that.

"Also…" At this Clark felt his attention snap back to Bruce, his thoughts stopping, "I wanted to know, if…" Clark waited, still speechless from the earlier revelation as he waited for the other man to continue.

"I wanted to know if…" Clark leaned back, his eyes widening even further when he noticed the light blush dusting the other mans cheeks. "…if you could be Richard's….Dick's godfather."

Clark will deny for the rest of his life that he had actually stumbled back at the request. So instead he chose to remember the small giggle that escaped from the baby in his friends' arms as if knowing how funny the situation really was.

...Well, he was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

TBC…