Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

Kent

Chapter Four:

Batman had Watchtower duty that evening and all looked quiet on the eastern seaboard. It was for this reason that he was surprised to receive a call from Superman's channel. With more curiosity than concern the Batman reached for the comm. panel and answered the call.

"This is Watchtower. Go ahead."

"Bruce, you impertinent scheming meddling ass!" Clark's voice hissed over the channel with quiet venom that left the Batman at a loss as to what he could have done recently to set the Man of Steel off. "What give you the right to send the boy to my work? To Clark Kent's work!"

'The boy', Batman assumed referred to the clone he had been trying to convince Superman to take responsibility for and claim as his own son -Conner Kent, the Superboy. So, the boy had apparently gone to the Daily Planet looking for Superman… or he had figured out Clark's civilian identity and gone to the Planet looking for Kent.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" Clark snapped back. "He's been following a consistent pattern almost since the other kids freed him. Now he just suddenly up and out of the blue wants to change his tactics for trying to get to know Superman! I know you had something to do with this! You're the only one sneaky enough to come up with it."

In all honesty this was the first he was hearing of it. Bruce hadn't involved himself in the relationship (or lack there of) between Conner and Clark since their last conversation at the diner all those months back. He figured the harder he tried to push Clark towards the boy, the harder he would pull away, and so the Batman had decided to leave well enough alone. Apparently, without his meddling Clark hadn't made any forward movement on his end and Conner had gotten tired of waiting. Bruce was actually rather proud of the kid for taking the initiative.

"And what is his new tactic?" He asked at length.

"He…" Here Clark paused as if unsure. "He wants me to interview him for the Planet. He wants Clark Kent to interview him like Lois interviews me… uh, Superman, I mean. I… I don't think he knows that I'm… But when he first saw me at the Planet I saw the recognition on his face. He recognized Clark as Superman, but… He's acting like he doesn't."

Bruce tapped his chin with gloved fingers of his right hand, considering. "Are you gonna do it?"

"I… I donno." Clark's voice over the comm took on a sober undertone, as if this decision was a heavy one that required more forethought and tact than most. "If he already knows I'm Superman, then I don't see what he expects to gain from this… I told him that I needed some time to prepare, do a little background research and draft up some questions for the interview. Its not a lie, that's what I always do before an interview." That last line sounded almost defensive, as if the Man of Steel were trying to justify himself to the Dark Knight.

"And Superman never lies." Bruce smiled to himself.

It was well past one in the morning by the time the Super-cycle returned to Mt. Justice. Its rider sighed as the shadow of the hangar passed over him, blotting out the dim light of the crescent moon, the dimness exercising him of the identity of 'Superboy' and returning him to simply being 'Connor'.

Conner dismounted and took a step or two back to give Sphere the space she needed to change back to her neutral form. "Thanks girl." He said, giving her convex surface an affectionate pat. "You did allot of flying tonight."

The alien globe gave a trill of agreement before her tone changed to one of assertive reassurance.

"Maybe…" He replied, guessing at what she was trying to communicate. "Maybe I'll be able to fly on my own some day. But I'll still take you out."

Behind him Conner's superior hearing detected the distinct sound of four padded paws accompanied by a forlorn whine approaching. He turned around to face a very abandoned looking Wolf entering the hangar.

"Hey, you." Conner knelt down to greet the beast on eye level. "Sorry for taking off on ya, buddy."

He had thought that bringing a giant cobra-venom enhanced predator into a metropolitan office building would not be a good way to make a first impression and considering the way the night had gone, he had probably guessed right. Wolf's presence would not have improved matters during his brief brush with Superman and the editor of the Daily Planet, Perry White, probably would have fainted if Conner… Superboy… er, whoever he was at the time, had brought him in with him. As for Kent… Well, Conner was still trying to figure that man out.

He looked so much like his genetic-donor, yet the man had none of his presence, character or even basic coordination. The reporter was gawky, clumsy, and awkward. Superman was graceful, fluent, and adroit. Kent was timid and soft-spoken. Superman was commanding and assertive. Even their postures were different. They looked almost identical (save for the glasses) yet Connor could not imagine two people that were more different. Maybe it was just an extreme and bizarre coincidence that the two resembled each other so greatly.

It was with these thoughts in his mind that Connor passed through the hangar into the base-proper, the ever-loyal Wolf following at his heals.

As he passed through the common area he noted that Wally's crumbs from earlier still had not been cleaned up. Conner suppressed the growl of frustration that welled up in the back of his throat. He considered dragging the sloppy speedster out of bed and shoving his nose in it like he'd seen Robin and Artemis doing to Wolf before he'd been housebroken. But he decided against it. If he did that, all it would achieve would be an indignant and disgruntled Wally and then a lecture on what was and was not appropriate behavior when resolving disputes between peers. He would make Wally clean up in the morning.

Conner wandered into the kitchen and checked the 'fridge for any leftovers from whatever the others might have had for dinner. His chest swelled with the knowledge that they had thought of him even while he was gone when he saw the tupperware containers sitting on the middle shelf. A note had been taped to the foremost one and said in M'gann's neat handwriting,

'Didn't know if you'd eat out or not. Saved this for you. Had to beat Wally off it with a stick –that's an Earth expression I learned I hope I used it right. I didn't actually beat him with anything.

'Just heat it in the microwave for four minuets. Bon appetite.

'-M'gann'

Conner withdrew the containers from the fridge and opened them to reveal some kind of meat, a mixture of limp soggy vegetables and mashed potatoes. He forwent the formality of heating them up in the microwave and ate his fill of the cold food strait out of the containers. When he was satisfied he replaced what hadn't been eaten back in the refrigerator and washed the emptied containers in the sink.

Or rather, he tried to wash them. At one point he ended up pressing the sponge clean though the flimsy plastic container, effectively ruining it. He sighed and tossed it in the waste bin. It wasn't the first time he's broken a dish while trying to clean, that was one of the reasons why M'gann usually handled the task and delegated the drying the putting away of items to him. That was something he could do without breaking things accidentally (most of the time).

Once the other, unbroken, container had been dried he replaced it in one of the lower cupboards and exited the kitchen intent on calling it a night.

As he once again passed the common area his eyes once again fell on Wally's crumbs. "I'll make him clean them up tomorrow." He muttered to himself.

But no sooner had the Boy of Steel turned from the mess than he found himself veering off course and instead of heading for his own suit was bound towards the small hall closet where they stored their cleaning supplies. Conner withdrew a small hand-vac and returned to the common room.

"I'm just putting this here so Wally will get the hint." He said aloud, placing the small vacuum on the couch.

He turned away again. Then turned back.

"Aw, to hell with it!" Conner groaned and grabbing the hand-vac, knelt down to clean it up himself.

When he was done, he stood back to examine his work. Spotless. That was how it looked. Clean and pristine, as it should be. He turned back around to, finally, retire to his own room but once again paused in his steps when he noticed someone blocking his path.

/'M'gann!'/ He thought. /'Sorry, did I wake you?'/

/'Yes. But not with that.'/ She waved dismissively as the small hand-vacuum he held. /'Something's troubling you.'/

The Martian girl moved forward to stoke her hand down his cheek affectionately. /'Wanna talk about it? Or would you rather I drop it and stay out of your head for a while?'/

Conner grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it and drew it over his lips, kissing her palm. /'No, its fine. I just… I met with Clark Kent tonight.'/

/'Well, that's good. That's what you meant to do, wasn't it?'/

He encircled her waist with his arm and drew her body up against his own. The proximity stirred that odd feeling of heated excitement that he'd been feeling quite allot lately, but at the moment he wanted the comfort her closeness offered more than he was worried about the strange sensation.

/'Yeah, that's what I meant to do, but…'/ He hesitated. /'I think… I think Kent might actually be Superman. I mean, Superman's civilian guise might actually be Clark Kent.'/

/'Really?'/ M'gann thought back skeptically. /'But I thought Superman lived in an isolated ice fortress in the arctic circle. What would he need a civilian guise for?'/

/'I donno.'/ The Boy of Steel admitted.

The thought was so heavy with misgivings and doubt that M'gann felt it was better to change the subject. /'Did you do the interview, though?'/

/'Kent said he needs time to prepare.'/ His answer came back carrying that same weight of misgiving. /'Anyway, its late.'/

/'Right.'/ She turned and he walked her to her room, their hands intertwined.

At her door he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in a soft but ardent kiss that elicited a soft moan form her and made Conner's stomach do a little back-flip of excitement. Her arms encircled his waist when he tried to pull away and she deepened the kiss, her lips parting enough for her tongue to slither out and lick timidly at his lips, requesting entrance.

It was then that he really did pull away; taking a step back, pulling at the hold she had on him. His body felt hot all over, his loins and groin were tight with a feeling he could only describe as 'need' (thought Conner wasn't sure what exactly it was he 'needed') and his face was flushed a bright shade that was unmistakable even in the dim light. He blinked at M'gann hoping she would explain what this effect she had on him was and why he felt it so strongly.

But M'gann did not explain. She dropped her arms in disappointment and apologized over a psychic thread. /'Sorry. I didn't mean to push you like that. Have a good night, Conner. Sleep well.'/

He didn't know what she meant by that either but before he could ask the Martian girl had already closed her door, leaving him standing out in the hall hot and flushed and needing… something, but unsure of what.

With considerable effort he pushed these feelings aside and finally retired to his own room. Conner took comfort in the stark order of the place. The walls were bare and unadorned, his bed (perfectly made) was fixed at a right angle from the left wall wile his desk (also perfectly organized) lay against the right wall at a parallel angle, his chair pushed in all the way so that it did not block the path between bed and desk that lead to his room's adjoining bathroom. The bathroom door was precisely seventy-six point two centimeters in width (as were all the doors in the base) and so he'd arranged his furniture to leave a breath of seventy-six point two for all walkways as well.

Adjacent to the bathroom door were the sliding doors of his closet. It was to here that he now made his way. He slid one side open and, leaning against the wall for balance, removed his boots and placed the pair neatly in the back next to several other pairs of boots, the mates pressed up against each other, the pairs each separated by five centimeters of space. Neat and orderly.

It was then that Conner climbed into bed, fully clothed. He pulled back the sheets and laid himself out beneath them. Flat on his back, arms at his sides, the Boy of Steel closed his eyes and… slept.

When Conner awoke the following morning he knew it had been the latest he'd slept since leaving Cadmus. The clock on his bedside table told him it was a little past six in the morning. Thought his suit didn't have any windows he knew the sun would already be up. With a soft groan the Boy of Steel rolled out of bed.

Wolf gave a shrill whine of protest when Conner stepped on the creature's furry white tail and he knelt down to offer apologetic pets. The domesticated wolf licked his face, accepting the pets and let his master know that there were no hard feelings. Conner patted him on the head one more time and stood to make the bed. He had woken up late and was already behind schedule.

After the making of the bed was a shower, after the shower teeth and hair got brushed and combed respectively, the clothing he'd worn the previous day (and subsequently slept in) got thrown in the hamper, fresh clothing was put on.

M'gann was already making breakfast when he passed through the common area. He muttered a subdued "Good morning" to her. He felt his cheeks color at the memory of their encounter the previous night and he felt the need to comment on it, though he didn't know what to say.

"The others are still sleeping." She said over her stove. "You're up late. But then again, you got to bed late."

"So did you." He reminded her.

"I got some sleep before you came back."

Right. She had mentioned that he'd woken her with his… discontent over his meeting with Kent. "I, um… I'm going out to get the paper. Do you want me to pick up anything else?"

"Snacks." She said quickly. "Enough for the rest of us to have something to munch on before Wally inhales it all."

"Right." He nodded. "Something that's not very crumbly or messy."

"Whatever you want." She smiled.

Half past six was late for Conner, but the rest of the world seemed to consider it to be 'early'. After getting his two newspapers the teenage superhero soon found that not many stores were open so early in the morning.

There were the newsstands, the convenience stores, the coffee shops, cafes and doughnut stores. But everything else, such as perhaps a grocery where he could procure mass quantities of snacks, did not open until ten. That was shamelessly late in Conner's opinion. Half the day would be gone by then! How did businesses manage to stay in business that way? Being closed for half the day. Ridiculous.

Reluctantly, the Boy of Steel decided on the convenience store as whatever he got from there would most likely be easier to take back on a motorcycle than doughnuts or whatever fragile pastries might be found in a café. He filled a bag with chips, candy bars, and soda. The snacks were paid for with cash from the small allowance the JLA allot him and M'gann for personal expenses and he wondered if he could get the rest of the team to pitch in a little to reimburse them. The others all had parents or legal guardians to provide for their needs. He and M'gann lived off of Justice League charity.

Conner pulled back into the hangar just as Black Canary zetta'd onto base.

A grunt of frustration escaped his lips as Canary floored him for what was probably the third time in their spar. Conner groaned as the training circle projected, Superboy : FAIL just in case it hadn't be obvious enough.

"Your mind's somewhere else." Black Canary admonished him. "When you're in a fight, regardless of whether or not if real lives are on the line or its just for training, you need to be focused on the here and now."

"I know!" Conner snapped back and leapt to his feet. He reassumed a defensive posture and invited the fishnet-clad drill instructor to attack him.

He had been doing so well of late too. Ever since the incident with the Amazo robot he's been taking his training sessions with Canary more seriously, paying closer attention to both the moves and techniques she demonstrated as well as her explanations and lectures. Cadmus had taught him tactics and strategy, but Canary was teaching him how to actually apply them in live situations (something he was still having trouble with).

She held up a hand. "Take a breather, Conner. Kaldur, you're up."

Conner stepped out of the circle as the Atlantien stepped in. They tapped each other on the shoulder in a sort of 'tag out, tag in' gesture. Superboy leaned against a wall to watch his teammate and leader face off against his mentor… er, one of his mentors… the mentor he shared with the others…? Conner sometimes found it difficult to define what Canary was to him in comparison to the others.

They all had mentors of their own that were separate from the ones that volunteered to aid with Young Justice, mentors that were excusive to just them. Kaldur had Aquaman, his king. Wally had the Flash, his uncle by marriage. Artemis had Green Arrow, whom she called her uncle, but aside from the blond hair Conner couldn't see much resemblance between them (not that he had ever seen GA with his mask off). Robin had Batman, whom he lived with. And M'gann had Martian Manhunter, her uncle. But Conner had no one. He had the general mentors that they all shared, but no personal mentor, no exclusive mentor. It sometimes made him feel more like an obligation to the JLA rather than a contributing member.

Robin appeared next to him. The Boy Wonder's mischievous grin from the previous night had vanished and was instead replaced with an air of idle curiosity. "So… how'd it go…?"

Conner took a moment's pause to glare at his young companion. He had been the one to suggest Kent specifically, did he send Conner there knowing that Kent was Superman, or Superman's look-alike? Had it been an attempt on the boy's part to get the two to sit down together finally, or was it just a mean prank? Or, did Robin, like everyone else whom worked with Kent seemed to, just not see the resemblance between them at all? No, Robin was to observant and clever for that last one to be a real possibility.

If it had been an attempt to get them together, it had worked… in a manner of speaking. Proceeding under the assumption that Kent was Superman, Conner still wasn't sure if it had been for better or for worse that they'd met in a non-crisis setting. Following under the assumption that they were two separate people and their resemblance was just a coincidence, Conner decided that it had gone well considering he had taken the man completely by surprise and unprepared. At least he hadn't said 'no' out right. He had asked for time.

But then again, Batman had said that all Superman needed was time also.

"Oh, come on. It couldn't have gone that badly." Robin whined after Conner still did not respond. "Well, did you at least get your interview?"

"Next week." Was the Boy of Steel's only reply.