The next time I saw Bruce Wayne, it was under entirely different circumstances

I don't know how Superman does it, when there's trouble, he just knows. He usually doesn't get a call (or at least this time he didn't), and just waltzes into my apartment and tells me. Then I get suited up and meet him somewhere and we fly over to wherever help is needed. This time we arrived at a night club –completely cleaned out- where tables were turned over, bullet shells lay across the ground, broken window up top, and the distinct smell of violence hung in the air.

"Happening place," I murmured, but Clark held up his hand. For once I could hear exactly what he was hearing –a voice from behind the large doors to the back of the club.

We made our way in from the back, none other than the infamous Batman had a fat man pressed up against the wall, holding him by the collar.
Batman freaked me out, I mean, anyone who isn't scared of him is crazy. He was about a foot taller than me, decked in black, with musculature equivalent to Superman, and freaking bat ears. It wasn't just his looks that intimidated me, it was his demeanor.

Clark and him weren't the best of buddies –I'd heard stories about the "Dark Knight". He was supposedly a sketchy, but brilliant, character.

And what freaked me out even more? When Superman went over to stop him from pounding the guy he was interrogating, Batman reached over and flipped him over into the tables. Batman freaking floored Superman! I stood there with my mouth hanging open. Thinking back, I probably should have gone over to see if Clark was alright, but I was too dumbfounded to even retaliate.

Not that I would have, Jesus Christ I did not want to tussle with someone who had just thrown Superman across the room.

Thankfully, Superman got right up and sent a punch at Batman who flew into the doors. The guy he was interrogating got away, but I think that was the least of everyone's worries. I felt for a moment like I should step in and break the two up, hold my arms out and push them away from each other like two teenagers in a drunken fight at a party.

I'm sure both of them would have snapped my arms if I did that.

While Batman sat in a daze on the floor, Superman made some use of his X-ray vision and looked behind the mask. The name he blurted out almost knocked me on my feet.

"Bruce Wayne?"

"You peeked."

Batman didn't seem to be phased. I had a feeling nothing ever did phase that man. Good god, Bruce Wayne? Rich snob who'd completely ignored Clark and me for stupid, bitchy Lois? Of course.

"I think I deserve the right to know who the kid is," Bruce said, gesturing to me as he pulled himself to his feet.

I bristled. I was still sore about the Lois ordeal, and now he was calling me a kid? "Guess you're not as brilliant as everyone says you are," I seethed, but in my head I was really thinking: 'Maybe if you hadn't been drooling over Lois you would know who the hell I was.'

Unfortunately Clark gave me away, I guess with the threat of the Joker high in Metropolis streets, he thought it best to form some type of trust with Bruce Wayne. An eye for an eye, right?

"Bella Sweet –the other woman who was with Lois Lane when you first arrived."

At least he used the word woman. But I gave Clark a glare anyway, which he didn't return.

Then he and Bruce argued for a bit, their voices raising and shattering the careful, wary silence outside the doors. Well, Clark's raised his. Bruce never came up above his rumbling monotone. I stood there, tempted to tap my foot impatiently. Men.

But all of a sudden, Batman pulled a plastic bag out from his utility belt. A little green chip glowed from inside, and Clark raised his arms up over his face with a groan.

"Doesn't take much does it?" Bruce taunted.

Damn, he was gorgeous but a tool. Guess I couldn't expect to have my cake and eat it too.

Clark backed up into the tables, upturning glasses and coasters and letting them bustle across the floor.

"The Joker's got twenty more pounds of this –just thought you might like to know."

I couldn't stand to see the jerk harm Clark. Kryptonite…nasty stuff for Superman. Even the tiny sliver was weakening him and causing him pain. As scared as I was of Batman, my annoyance for Bruce Wayne overtook me and I stepped cautiously forward. I'm sure he would have grabbed me and flipped me over too if I had launched at him, but I just carefully stepped to him after ripping off one of my gloves and brushed my knuckles across his cheek.

I guessed it was as close I was ever going to get romantically to Bruce Wayne.

"Show and tell's over –put it away."

Robotically, his hands moved away from Clark and he put the tiny piece back into his belt. I took my hand away and slipped my glove back on, trying not to grin like an idiot. My powers come in pretty handy when the opponent has no idea I have them. If I have contact with a person's skin, I can make them do anything I want just by saying it. It has something to do with the nerve receptors linked to the person's brain, and my brain waves and nerve receptors.

I don't know much about it, to tell you the truth. But it comes in damn handy for a lot of things. And it scares the shit out of most people.

I thought I saw Bruce's eyes widen just a bit, but his countenance remained more or less the same. Stupid emotionless stiff. "Interesting," was all he said.

And that was the end of our encounter. He was out the door before Clark even had time to brush himself off. What a complete asshole, I wondered vaguely if maybe he and Lois were good for each other. But when I got back to the apartment complex Clark and I shared I got jealous all over again.

Bruce Wayne had time to send Lois roses, a phone call from her informed, and he'd also had time to slip a tracking device on Clark's cape.

Nice guy, real nice.