Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman, Justice League or its characters.

There's a short POV change for a bit near the end, but it's pretty obvious so I didn't bother marking it.

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Chapter 4: The Date.

Between dealing with his children and the usual Friday night traffic made even worse by an accident, he was already thirty-eight minutes late when he finally arrived at the restaurant. It would be even longer if he didn't know the city like the palm of his hand or if he hadn't been willing to steer away from busy streets and use a slightly rougher path.

Metropolis may be the sparkling city of tomorrow, but no city was perfect.

The conversation with Damian had gone a lot better than he had anticipated, probably because Dick had the time to speak to the boy before Bruce did. For some reason, Damian didn't seem to dislike Dick as much as the rest of the family, so he listened to him sometimes. It wasn't an ideal situation, but Bruce was grateful for any help he could get in that regard.

Bruce was the first to admit he wasn't the best at expressing emotions, but he still did his best to reassure the sullen boy of his place in the family, silently vowing to do a better job to help him integrate.

Maybe a family night was in order. It had been a while since they were all in the same room for something other than sharing meals. But, for now, he could at least enjoy a night out without worrying about Damian running away or trying to get revenge.

Bruce made sure to call Clark on his way here to let him know he was running late, and while the man had been understanding and kind, he couldn't help but felt guilty. He canceled their plans a few days ago due to his work and now he was late. It wasn't the kind of impression he wanted to give, but at this point, canceled plans and late arrivals have become the norm rather than something unusual.

It was only fair that Clark understood what he was getting into right from the start, he thought with a sigh.

He took a moment to fix his hair with the help of the rear-view mirror before getting out of the car and hurrying to the entrance.

The restaurant was crowded, but the owner was a friend of his so he made sure to reserve a table by the corner, slightly away from all the people so they could converse comfortably. And also because he had never been good with crowds.

He thanked the nice lady that guided him to his table, watching as Clark sat there with only a glass of water before him and his attention fixed on the phone between his hands. The guilt that came up at the sight didn't stop him from noticing how handsome the other man looked with his dark hair pushed away from his face and the powder blue shirt and navy tie combination fitting him perfectly.

Bruce really hoped he hadn't already ruined this before it could even begin.

He forced his lips to curl into a small smile in reply to the smile that appeared on Clark's face as soon as he saw him, but the smile slipped away as he took his seat. "I'm very sorry for keeping you waiting."

"Don't worry about it. I got just enough time to finish the draft of one of my articles, so it's alright." Clark held up his phone with a small wave.

The reply sounded honest, and Bruce couldn't detect any traces of annoyance or frustration, so he allowed himself to relax slightly as they reached for their respective menus.

"What did you write about?"

"Ah. It's nothing interesting, really."

Bruce merely arched an eyebrow in inquiry, attention fully back on the man before him. He had asked mostly out of politeness since truly relevant articles most likely weren't written in the middle of crowdy restaurants in only thirty minutes, but now his curiosity was piqued.

"It's an article about the 'What The Fluff' Challenge."

"I'm sorry what?"

"Um. It's one of those viral challenges going around, except this one is pretty harmless and cute. It's about pet owners tricking their pets into thinking they disappeared." Bruce merely blinked at him. "Here. You can watch a video."

The video left Bruce just as confused about why this was considered news, but he said nothing as he handed him the phone back.

Clark looked more than a little embarrassed, avoiding eye contact. "I'm still pretty new at the Planet, so sometimes I'm tasked with writing articles that aren't truly relevant."

"It must be frustrating," Bruce commented sympathetically.

"A little bit," Clark admitted with a shrug. "But I'm learning a lot and I've already co-written a couple of bigger pieces, so it's alright. Besides, I actually enjoyed writing about something nice for once."

That made sense with so many terrible news needing to be shared from all over the world.

The conversation was put on hold by the waitress' arrival, which was a good thing because as interested as he was on getting to know the man in front of him, Bruce only had a sandwich at lunch and he was feeling kind of hungry.

They greeted the woman with matching smiles and then proceeded to give their orders.

"So," Bruce spoke up as soon as the waitress walked away. "How long have you been the newbie at the Daily Planet?"

"Only six months," Clark answered, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That's why I came to Metropolis. For the opportunity to work at a large newspaper like the Daily Planet or the Star."

He hummed. "You didn't mention before where you are from."

"I'm from a place called Smallville. In Kansas."

"Smallville," Bruce echoed.

Clark's bashful smile was a bright and beautiful thing, distracting Bruce easily.

"What about you? Is Metropolis your hometown?"

The question pulled Bruce's attention back to the conversation. "It isn't. I'm from Gotham, actually."

"Gotham, huh? That's-"

"The city is a hellhole, I know," Bruce dismissed with a hand wave. "I moved to Metropolis when I was eight and have been living here ever since."

He traveled back to Gotham a few times over the years, but never felt the need to stay longer than was necessary. It was his parents' city and he had plenty of good memories of the place, but he would never even think of taking his sons there. That place was poisonous and he would forever be grateful Alfred took him out of there when he did.

Bruce was too immersed in his thoughts to hear Clark's question, so he had to ask him to repeat himself.

"I was just saying you haven't told me what you do."

"I'm on business," Bruce said cryptically. The expression on Clark's face made him add, "I'm an executive of a small company. But I just spend the whole week buried in work so I'll rather not talk about that if you don't mind."

"Of course."

The food arrived before they could steer the conversation to another topic, conveniently distracting them with its mouth-watering smell and delicious appearance.

They resumed their conversation after a moment, and, contrary to Bruce's intention to keep his kids out of it tonight, he found he couldn't stop himself from sharing far more pleasant stories about their antics and a few other things about himself. But, unlike last time, he also listened to Clark talk about his life on Metropolis and his parents back in Smallville.

"I don't think I've ever been to a fair. In fact, I ..." Bruce trailed off mid-sentence, sharp eyes fixed on a spot several tables away, where he caught a small glimpse of something. Someone.

"Hey," Clark called softly, concern evident on his face. "Everything okay?"

"I'm very sorry about this." He made sure to meet Clark's eyes as he spoke. He took his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear a second later.

Clark looked more than a little puzzled but remained silent as he watched him.

"Come here right now," He growled into the phone, ending the call without waiting for a reply.

"Um. Everything okay?" Clark asked again.

"No," Bruce replied curtly before turning away to glare at the figures walking closer. He saw Clark turn to follow his gaze, understanding dawning on his face as he recognized the boys.

A waitress appeared at his side as soon as Dick and Jason stopped by their table. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"There isn't. Thank you," Bruce added with a forced smile.

The woman gave him an uneasy smile before slowly walking away.

"Sit down," He ordered with a pointed look. The boys exchanged a look but complied without a word.

It would have been better to have them in front of him rather than one at each side, but Bruce made sure to look at one and then the other as he spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to vet him," Jason said while pointing a thumb in Clark's direction.

Bruce took a deep breath and very deliberately didn't look at the other man. "How did you even get here?"

"We called an Uber," Dick replied quickly before his brother could speak.

"Tim and Damian?"

"They're at home."

That was something, at least. He looked down at his unfinished meal for a moment before looking at his sons again. "I'm dealing with you two back home. Don't move. I need to call Alfred."

The name was enough to make both boys lower their gazes.

Bruce turned to Clark then, aware of the less than polite behavior he had displayed so far. "I'm sorry. I need to-"

"It's fine."

He sent the man a tiny, grateful smile and then turned to shoot matching warning looks in his sons' directions before moving away from the table, phone already in hand.

Clark watched him until he disappeared from view, doing his best not to squirm in his seat as he felt the boys' eyes on him.

"The name's Jason." The youngest said, leaning forward on the table. "And you are?"

"Oh. I'm Clark. Clark Kent," He replied with a smile before turning to the older boy. "And you're Richard, right?"

The brothers only looked back at him with wary and confused expressions.

"Your dad showed me a photo."

They looked more than a little surprised by that fact, but the older recovered quicker. "So, it looks like you guys were having a good time."

"I think so, yes."

"Sorry to crash in like this. We weren't expecting Dad to catch us."

"I'm sure you weren't," Clark replied with a straight face. It was kind of cute, really, to have the two rebel teenagers he had heard about coming to spy on his dad's date. And to think Bruce feared they hated or resented him.

He didn't get the chance to speak more with them because Bruce returned a second later, a grim expression on his face.

Bruce signaled the waitress for the check, sitting back down on his chair to avoid drawing any more attention to them. "Did you at least introduced yourselves and apologized?"

Jason only rolled his eyes, and while Dick didn't look any happier, he at least nodded in reply.

He forced himself to turn to Clark then. "I- I don't even know what to say."

"Well," Clark said pushing his glasses up his nose. "I can say this is the most interesting dinner I've had in a long time."

"I'm sure it has," Bruce replied wryly.

The boys exchanged looks again.

"You know," The youngest said with a particular gleam in his eyes. "Maybe we should invite you over for dinner sometime. To make up for cutting today short."

"Jason-"

"Sure."

Bruce's head snapped in his direction. "Are you serious?"

"I am. If you invite me, of course."

The waitress arrived with the check, forcing Bruce to drag his attention away from the other man. It wasn't easy. Not at all.

"Wait in the car," Bruce ordered as soon as the waitress left again, holding the keys out to his eldest.

A silent war took place then, and while he got Dick to take the car keys fairly quickly, he had to glare at Jason a moment longer to convince him to leave as well. Bruce waited until they were out of sight to let his shoulders loosen up a little.

"I can get it," Clark offered with a nod to the check.

Bruce shook his head, already taking out his credit card. "I invited you. Besides, there is no way I will let you pay after this mess."

"It wasn't that bad, you know."

Bruce's blank expression turned into one of disbelief when he met the other man's face and realized Clark wasn't kidding.

"I would have loved to spend more time with you tonight, of course, but I understand your sons were worried about you, going out with a stranger and all that," Clark added with a shrug.

Nobody could be that perfect. It simply wasn't possible.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "About the invitation they extended-"

"You really shouldn't feel forced to go along with it," Clark interrupted, stealing the words right out of Bruce's mouth. "I think that's going a bit too fast. After all, we only met a few days ago."

"You do realize this is a very transparent ploy to get you into their territory so they can interrogate you mercilessly, right?" He asked, a dark eyebrow arched.

"Of course. I, uh. I want to keep seeing you," He blurted out, a soft blush tinting his cheeks crimson. "And, um, if you're interested in that too, maybe it would be a good idea to reassure your sons I'm not a bad guy so they don't have to do this again."

Bruce could do nothing but stare at him. "You have no idea what you're getting into, do you?"

Clark let out a nervous tiny laugh. "Probably not."

A sharp smirk lifted the corner of his lips. "I guess I'll call you to set something up."

Bruce had no idea what he was getting into either, but watching the beautiful smile lighting up Clark's face, he decided he was very much looking forward to seeing where it got him.

...

a/n: I know the 'What The Fluff' Challenge isn't very recent, but I actually only learned about it while looking for a challenge to have Clark writing about and I fell in love with it. I also think it was better to use this cute one rather than any of the other actually dangerous and stupid challenges around.

Also, this chapter just showed some of the changes I made in Bruce's past and which I hope explain the few differences in his personality. I don't plan to expand on it further, so feel free to ask any questions you have.

Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites, and please take the time to let me know what you think!