A/N: My current perception of Luthor's obsession with Superman is based on the "Superman: Doomsday" animated movie. Wasn't anyone else just completely creeped out by that red sun-lamp room?? Shudder. Anyway, Sorry it took so long to post this. This chapter picks up right where the last chapter left off…

Chapter Six: Welcome to the Government

They'd reached that point where their thoughts were aligned, on separate but parallel tracks, a bridge and a tunnel over and through the issue at hand. Nothing further needed to be said, so they sat side-by-side in silence.

Batman had gotten over his anger at Clark, but he was starting to feel impatient. For all his tampering, he still hadn't managed to break the cuffs from his wrists.

Beside him in the dark, Superman sighed. "There's a helicopter," he said neutrally.

Batman paused and considered. He listened; he couldn't hear it. "Following us?"

"…yeah. It's from Washington. …they're…talking to it over a radio up in the cab. There's a V.I.P. on board… but I can't…nnh…I can't see who it is."

"That reminds me," said Bruce, standing up. "I need to know exactly how much of your abilities we've got to work with, if any."

Clark shifted. Heavily, clumsily. His handcuffs scraped against the wall. "I feel sick. Weak. I'm… pretty sure I can walk but …flying…everything… it's gone. The only thing that seems… okay is my hearing. But that'll probably die out too."

"You still have some of your x-ray vision. What about heat vision?"

Clark didn't reply. If using x-ray vision was painful, attempting heat vision would likely be excruciating. Bruce jerked his hands apart as far as he could, held them up in front of Clark, presenting the stubborn handcuffs as a target.

"Try it," he directed.

With almost palpable reluctance, Clark obeyed. A dim red glow appeared in his eyes, brightened, and blazed forward.

But as they both knew right away, it was just light. Clark squinted, bit his bottom lip, tried harder.

Bruce held the target perfectly still. He hadn't been optimistic enough to hope for a laser beam. He'd wanted the light.

While Clark was busy focusing on the handcuffs, Bruce quietly took advantage of the opportunity to study the only other thing in the van that the thin red light was illuminating—Clark's face. The contrast of red and black amplified the tension in his features as he strained to muster his fading powers. And there was a nasty two-inch wide abrasion just above his eyebrow, which Bruce was responsible for.

He'd needed to see the damage for himself. In grim relief, he acknowledged that it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

The light flickered. "Never mind," Bruce muttered, as the darkness folded around them again. "That's not going to help us."

Clark hissed a little as he breathed. "My head…"

"Stop crying," Bruce ordered, his hands forming fists.

Clark shut up. He wasn't actually crying, and Bruce knew that. His Clark-inspired conscience began to nag him. "Conserve energy," he amended. "And let me know if you happen to overhear any clues about where they're taking us."

"Bruce—the helicopter--"

"What about it?"

"They just… gave an order to gas us."

Right on cue, a hundred tiny vents in the floor clicked open.

Clark took a deep, calm-sounding breath, and Bruce's mind flooded with rage. Clark obviously trusted that they were just going to knock him out. Don't breathe, think. Granted, that made sense. Find the way out. If they'd wanted to kill them, why hadn't they done it right away? Fight your lungs. Don't breathe. Control. Maybe they were waiting for the authorization from the V.I.P. in the chopper. Door. Open the door. In any event, it was wrong to give in. Fight. Open the door. It was wrong to trust. Fight. Don't breathe. Clark. Sometimes things go wrong. Clark. Sometimes luck runs--

He woke up sitting in a chair, slumped over a table. As the haze cleared from his mind, he sat up. There were still cuffs around his wrists, only now his hands were separated and bolted to the table. He was alone in the little room, which was dark and featureless except for two windows of one-way glass and one beefy, blast-resistant door. He looked up.

A single light bulb dangled from a string above him.

Typical.

Before long, the door unlocked and opened, revealing an unmistakable silhouette against the backdrop of an antiseptic white hallway.

"…Waller."

"Hello, Batman." She moved into the room like a tank on fluid treads, and secured the door.

Bruce stared her down as she approached.

"What is this about?" he demanded as she took the seat across from him.

"National Security." She folded her hands on top of the table. "…and you don't seem impressed."

"I'd have been disappointed if it had been anything else."

Her eyes gleamed in shrewd approval. "Hmm. Next question then."

"Does this have anything to do with people found dead in an office building in Gotham?"

He'd gotten right down to business without skipping a beat. She liked that about him. "Don't worry, by now you and Superman have already been cleared of suspicion. Killing them was Luthor's call, not mine. I've already let him know that I disapprove."

Anger worsened his frown. "They're dead, Waller. Your disapproval doesn't matter now."

"Then let's talk about what does matter." She pulled out a slender remote control and clicked a button, and a screen lit up on the wall. Bruce refused to look at it, and just kept glaring at Waller until she indicated with a raised eyebrow and a dip of her head that he ought to take a look.

Slowly, disdainfully, Batman deigned to turn his head. The screen displayed a video feed of Superman in a cube-shaped cell, sitting on the floor. They'd taken the handcuffs off him, but the ceiling and walls of the cell were lined with red sun lamps. Bruce stared hard at the screen, carefully keeping his mouth expressionless. Clark's cape was draped over his shoulders, covering his arms. He looked like a refugee huddled in a red blanket.

Waller set the remote down on the table. "We've improved the cell design since the last time we confined him," she said, proudly matter-of-fact.

"You mean, Luthor's improved it," Bruce guessed.

Waller took her time deciding how to tell him he was right. "Yes," she said at last. "As you're probably aware, he takes anti-Superman technology very seriously. His research and dedication have been invaluable."

Bruce kept his voice cold. "What does he want, Waller?"

"Luthor? Well. I suspect he wants him." She nodded towards the screen again, but neither of them looked at it. Instead, they stared at each other, weighing, evaluating. They had an understanding.

"He's obsessed," Bruce warned her. She nodded. "He'll break whatever contract you made with him the minute he thinks he's not getting his way."

Waller narrowed her eyes. "So what about Superman?"

"What about him?"

"How important is he to you?"

Bruce was unfazed. "By now you should know."

"And maybe I do. But you're a good actor. I know you could present your relationship any way you please, and even Superman would be none the wiser."

"Ask him then. You know he'll tell you the truth."

"For now. But we'll train that out of him soon enough. And anyway, his feelings are irrelevant. I need to know where you stand, and you alone."

He thought about smirking, but went with his coldest glare instead. "Amanda. Use your brain."

"Hmph." The smirk that he'd been considering appeared in her eyes. "All right. We need a handler for Superman. I still think that Lois Lane is the ideal choice for the role. But the scandal in the tabloids yesterday flipped Luthor's switch. He moved his teams into Gotham right away. One of our special projects tracked you—"

"'Special Projects?'" Bruce asked.

"—psychic kids, mostly," Waller explained dismissively. "Nothing for you to worry about. Anyway, the teams set you up and got the police to toe the line. We knew Superman would cooperate."

"And Commissioner Gordon?"

"Livid, but ultimately impotent. This came from way over his head."

"It came from you," Bruce summarized.

Amanda Waller folded her hands on the table again. "Like I've already mentioned, I have a serious bone to pick with Luthor over the way he executed the mission. But yes, I authorized it. And since the mission was successful, we're going to move forward."

Weapons-grade sarcasm leaked from his voice. "With your master plan."

She studied him for a moment, and then lowered her voice. "We need him, Batman. Not a monster or a clone or a missile that can stop him. We need him. We need his allegiance."

"You've already got it," Bruce muttered, iron and sleet and copper in his voice. Silence fell between them as Bruce realized what he'd just given away.

"Well. That answers part of my question," Waller said at length, in a mollifying tone. "You really do believe in him."

Bruce's mouth was a flat, immovable line.

"And now for the rest of it," Waller continued. "The more difficult part." She looked down at her hands, took a quiet breath, and looked back up at his eyes. "If, hypothetically, he were ever…beyond saving, and it came down to it… if you had to… if he would want you to… would you be able—"

He cut her off. "Yes. I'd kill him myself."

And that was what it was really all about. That was why, years ago, Clark had given him that little lead box. That was what it meant. There was no one in the world that Superman trusted more for that particular task, if, God forbid, it ever had to be done.

Waller studied him. And then nodded. "All right," she said. "You've got the job. Welcome to the Government."

Bruce wasn't amused. "You're kidding."

The gleam reappeared in her eyes. "Luthor won't know that."

Bruce sat back in his chair as far as the cuffs on his wrists would let him. "I see," he said carefully. "You're going to play me against Luthor. For control of Superman."

"It's going to be a jousting match," Waller declared. And then she smiled, confident. "And I've picked my knight."

"So what happens now?"

Waller pushed her chair away from the table. Stood up. "It's almost 3 a.m. Luthor's due here at 6:30 and I'm sure he'll want to talk to you. Until then, I'm quartering you with Superman. What I've shown you is the only surveillance, and for the next fifteen minutes, Luthor won't have access to it." She arched an eyebrow at him. "So I would advise you to make the most of that."

"Don't worry," Bruce said, smirking at last. "I will."

Clark had just fallen asleep when the door to his cell beeped and then slid open. There was a small antechamber beyond the door similar to an airlock—and standing in it, sans utility belt but seeming unharmed, was:

"Batman!" Clark scrambled to his feet and hurried towards him. The door beeped again, signaling that it was about to close, and Batman stepped into the cell.

Clark made sure to stop himself well outside of Bruce's larger-than-normal personal space. The door hissed shut, the lock automatically engaged. Batman looked annoyed.

"What's going on?" Clark asked, concerned.

"The U.S. Government is tired of wasting money on secret weapons meant to kill you and wants you to be their personal errand boy instead," Bruce explained.

Clark blinked a few times. "What?"

"Amanda Waller's directing the operation," Bruce growled. "They want to make you some kind of special agent."

Clark shook his head in disbelief. "That doesn't—"

"That is, if you cooperate," Bruce went on. "And if you don't cooperate, Luthor basically gets to brainwash you and keep you as a pet."

"What?"

"But that's not even the best part. Because now that it's been revealed to the world that you and I are sleeping together, they've decided that I'm the best person for job of keeping you in line."

Clark froze. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No."

He smiled anyway, which just made Bruce look even more pissed off by comparison. "Well," Clark said, folding his arms over his chest. "It is kind of funny."

"They were going to pick Lois for this job until Luthor got wind of yesterday's tabloids."

Suddenly it didn't seem funny anymore. Clark looked away. "So Luthor's been working with Waller to capture me."

Batman nodded. "To capture and enslave you. Please don't say you're surprised."

Clark rocked a little on the balls of his feet, and Bruce was struck by the fleeting impression that gravity was still something of a novelty to him.

"And they were going to drag Lois into it."

Bruce nodded again. "They thought she was their best bet for controlling you."

Clark shook his head again. "And then Luthor heard some ridiculous rumor and changed his whole plan? I don't believe it."

"I believe it," Bruce declared. "For one thing, Lois is a civilian. Tag her for something like this and they risk angering you. I may be a regular human but I'm still wearing a cape. Capture me and lock me up to baby-sit you and it's no harm, no foul. And for another thing, consider what the rumor was about. Luthor thinks he knows everything there is to know about the man of steel. And then suddenly this story goes around and it's something he never knew about you. I can see how he'd jump into action. If the Joker heard the rumor and bought it, I wouldn't be surprised if he killed himself."

Clark looked up, worried. A heartbeat or two passed in tense silence. "Do you think he…did?" Clark asked awkwardly.

"If he heard it I'm sure he got a good laugh out of it. But he'd never believe it. He's convinced that I'm in love with him."

"Creepy," Clark deemed.

"Luthor's obsession with you is creepier," Bruce pointed out. "I'm going to meet with him in about three hours. And I'm going to keep him away from you."

Clark frowned, suspicious. "How are you going to do that?"

"We have only one small fact working in our favor right now," Bruce confided.

"And that is…?"

Impossibly, Bruce's frown etched itself a little deeper into the sides of his face. "The rumor," he growled. "Luthor doesn't know if it's true."

He left that statement ominously suspended in the air, a raised blade poised to fall and slice open the heart of their situation. But, maddeningly, Clark missed its significance. He looked down, blinked worriedly at Bruce's boots. Looked back up. "I don't follow. How does that help us?"

Bruce squeezed his fists so hard that his wrists made little popping noises. "Grrrh! I can't do this!" he said through clenched teeth. He jabbed a finger at Clark's chest. "You are impossible." He reached into one of his gloves, pressed a button on the remote he'd swiped from Waller. Then he pulled back his mask.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked, alarmed. "They'll see who you—"

"Waller already knows who I am," Bruce cut him off. "And for the next few minutes, Luthor doesn't have access to the surveillance system in here." He pulled out the remote, tossed it to Clark. Clark caught it. "Actually, neither does anyone else."

"Wow," Clark couldn't help but say, as he realized what he held in his hands. He looked up at Bruce, grinning in admiration. This was Batman in top form. "Looks like you have a plan."

"The plan wasto keep Luthor guessing, keep him curious about how much influence I have over you. But since I just had to explain that, I know it's not going to work. So we're going to go with the oldest trick in the book." He tugged his cape off, held it up like a spill of black paint from his fist. "The hallways aren't lined with red sun lamps."

Clark nodded, understanding and agreeing immediately. He reached for the neckline of his uniform, untucked his cape from the seams that held it in place.

They traded.

to be continued!

A/N: I hope I didn't confuse anyone too badly with this chapter! Just let me know if you have questions. Amanda Waller is such an awesome character. I love that they made it so she knows Batman's identity in the JL cartoon. And I love the recurring idea of the government conscripting Clark. However, I hated the recent story arc in the Superman/Batman comic book where Waller captured Bats. So... Will Lex fall for the oldest trick in the book?? Stay tuned to find out!! XD