A/N: So sorry for the long break! Terrible writer's block after returning from my trip. This is much longer so I hope you enjoy. Please leave a review :)


"Ahh…ahh…" Clark leaned against the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror, holding in his breath. His dark eyelashes fluttered as his eyes closed and he only counted to number four when—"Achooo!"

Mouthwash, soap, and toothpaste suddenly crystalized, thick ice shrouding the surrounding objects.

Darn that Artic breath.

Of all the times to get sick it had to be the end of the year, particularly New Year's Eve, when everyone else was outside at dinner parties, ice skating or reminiscing over drinks. While he had never been much of a drinker, tasting that odd fermented barley would still be better than standing a sniffling pathetic mess in the middle of his now-frozen-bathroom.

Not even attempting to bother with the ice, Clark shuffled out of the bathroom and adjusted the fuzzy blanket cocooning his overheated body as he made his way into the small living room. His apartment was dark, all of the shades drawn and windows shutting out the laughter and car horns from outside. The whispery static of the TV hummed throughout the sparse room, the black and white images flickering on Dick Clark's New Year's Eve Party, as an analog clock ticked softly from the kitchenette. With a low groan, the Kryptonian flopped down on the couch, which was littered with Kleenexes and lozenge wrappers.

"Well, weren't they just wonderful? I think they were!" Dick Clark's smiling face filled the TV screen, his pearly white teeth shining so bright that it almost made the Smallville man wince. The TV host laughed. "Only a little while left until the ball drops and, I gotta tell you folks, I'm just as excited as you are!"

Clark sighed but it soon turned into a coughing fit and he only hoped that his laser beams wouldn't start shooting. Hastily, he snatched another Kleenex from the box resting on the small wooden end table next to him. It was late in the evening, the Metropolis skies a dull shade of blue and purple, and he wondered what everyone was doing at that exact moment. Jimmy had called earlier, wishing him a happy new year as he got ready for the Daily Planet's annual celebration office party.

He sighed.

Clark had finally invited Lana to attend the office party with him. While they had been old friends in elementary school, the two had drifted apart up until he recently visited his parents over Memorial Day weekend. She was still the same—button nose, red-orange hair and bright eyes. Nothing had changed between them and when she had accepted his hesitant invitation, Clark felt like a schoolboy with a crush. But now, Lana was stranded at the Smallville airport due to the blizzard conditions up north. Normally, Superman could make a cameo and just assist the plane through the storms, flying them himself but, well, in his condition he would probably wind up sneezing it off course into Canada...

"I'm stuck here and now you're sick!" Lana chuckled as announcements rang out in the background of the airport. "I can't help but feel like you're punishing me somehow…"

Clark reddened and he wasn't sure if it was from the fever. He adjusted the phone. "Now, I would never do something like that to you."

"Oh?"

Ohh. How he wished he could use his super-speed right now.

So, New Year's Eve had so far consisted of coughing fits, sneezing fits, sniffling fits, and a few phone calls from family and friends. While it was nice hearing from his parents (who of course chastised him for getting sick in the first place) and a few coworkers from the Daily Planet, the Kryptonian felt alone at the end. It seemed as if others had merely forgotten about him and the world was going on without him. The lights of the TV flickered onto Clark's exhausted face as he blinked, thinking back to the first time he celebrated New Years with friends. It was so different from now—basically enveloped into the darkness of his apartment and the only form of company coming from his staring goldfish.


Flash spun around in his seat, a large grin on his face. "C'mon, guys, it would be fun! Just think about it—I mean, we could put lights up in the monitor room and get, like, all dolled up, y'know?"

"Dolled up?" Green Lantern snorted, eyes glued to the computer screen as he remained updating the logs. "You've been watching too many Good Luck, Chuck shows."

While they had only been a team less than a year, it seemed as if they had known each other longer than that. It was strange, Superman thought as he hovered by the window. After battling with Zara and Eviless in Chicago, the League had settled down back in the monitor room at the Watchtower to discuss new strategic planning as well as getting much needed rest. Hawkgirl hovered over Lantern as he continued updating the log, backseating as usual, while Wonder Woman lounged next to J'onn on one of the benches. The princess laughed and crossed her arms. "I believe a party in the Watchtower wouldn't be the most fitting. It seems to be nothing but metal, wires, and computers."

"Oh, ye of little faith." Flash shook his head and winked. "You've just gotta be a little creative, that's all!"

Superman cocked his head in thought. He had spent little time with the team outside of missions and it wasn't like he had any plans for New Year's Eve. The Daily Planet was hosting some sort of an annual office party but Superman really didn't see the point if Lois wasn't going. The Man of Steel shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."

Even with the mask, the pure excitement was evident on Flash's face. "Awesome! I can work on the food menu, Lantern, you can DJ, cause, well, you know"—

"What," Lantern frowned as he dragged out the word, "are you even talking"—

"And the gals can do decorations, cause, well, you know"—

"Listen, dumbass." Hawkgirl snorted, eyebrows raised as Wonder Woman rolled her eyes. "Just so you know, you better not let your little brain run too far with this. You're going to have to get this all past Old Man Bats."

The others chuckled softly throughout the monitor room—save for Flash, whose shoulders drooped at the sudden realization. Clearing his throat, Superman tried not to join along. While he had met Batman before any of the other heroes, he understood the first impressions the lone detective gave off to others. The two may not be friends but they had a mutual understanding, a history of toleration. Superman knew that the lone detective didn't emit the warmest of impressions to others but he always knew that the two had each other's backs.

Flash scratched his chin. "We could always distract him by setting Gotham on fire…"

A low beep rippled softly as the entrance to the monitor room opened, revealing the Caped Crusader himself. Addressing no one, he headed to the filing cabinets silently, dark cape flowing behind him. Lantern coughed, Hawkgirl bit her lip and Flash twiddled his thumbs as the rest tried to appear nonchalant or as nonchalant as they could. Because anyone with half a brain could realize that they clearly weren't.

Superman cleared his throat, trying to diffuse the awkward atmosphere in the air but most likely made it worse by floundering with his next words. "So…uh…" He could hear Hawkgirl snickering but he tried again, "So, Batman"—

"No."


A short but deliberate knock interrupted Clark's slumber and he scrambled off the couch, clambering for the fallen sheets in confusion. Was it New Year's already? But, the knock came again and his cluttered alien mind finally registered the intruding sound coming from his door. Normally, the Kryptonian would use his x-ray vision to check who was there but in this state of health he didn't fully trust himself.

"Yes?" he croaked as he waddled to the door. "Pretty sure I paid the rent on time…"

But instead of coming face to face with a disgruntled landlord—Mr. Rodriguez with the bad leg—Clark came face to face with a disgruntled Bruce Wayne. Or, at least he was pretty sure it was Bruce. The multiple brown paper grocery bags resting in his arms obscured most of his face so the only thing actually visible was—

"You're in my way."

Yup. Definitely Bruce.

The billionaire brushed past him without a second glance as Clark stood by the open door utterly bewildered, brass knob still clutched in his hand. Light snow clung to the philanthropist's hair and dusted the shoulders of his dark trench coat. But the music and voices flittered from down the hall, clogging the alien's senses.

"Is…is there…" he rasped but paused, watching silently as Bruce placed the bags on the countertop and began unloading the contents. "Did something happen?"

Bruce snorted. "You look worse than I imagined."

"…Huh. Probably. I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

"No, Clark."

"You're not, like, a mirage?"

"A mirage. In the middle of your kitchen." And, as under the weather as the reporter was, even he could detect the obvious sarcasm dripping from the statements.

Clark frowned. "You're unloading groceries in my kitchenette on New Year's Eve when you're normally the Great Gatsby on nights like this." He sniffled. "What else am I supposed to think? It's the only logical explanation."

"Kal." The Gothamite finally paused from his tasks and looked up, clearly exasperated with cold blue eyes bright from the December weather. "I've done crazier things."

"…True."

And with that, Bruce continued to unload the bags, pulling out plastic containers and bottles of wine. Eventually, Clark closed the door and padded towards the kitchenette, watching quietly in curiosity. Dick Clark's voice ruffled in the background, the fish tank hummed nearby, and it wasn't until a little while later that Bruce looked up once more as the bags had all been unloaded.

"I don't normally cook."

Clark raised an eyebrow. Was that the fact of the day? "I didn't ask you to…"

"No," said Bruce and, maybe it was the cough syrup but Clark almost thought that he seemed…uncomfortable? But, the billionaire simply crossed his arms and continued. "I don't cook well. And, Alfred thought it was more…appropriate if he didn't assist."

Okay, now he was the definition of confused. The Kryptonian shook his head. "Bruce, you're going to have to speak with more words and less ambiguity. I'm in no health to translate your sentences tonight."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You're sick aren't you? You need sustenance." He opened one of the containers, revealing steamy hot wonton soup with dumplings and carrots bobbing on the surface. "Dick said you like that Chinese place but you also need zinc for your immune system so I went to that breakfast and eggs place, then bought some yogurt for probiotic but wasn't certain what flavors you liked…"

It was the most words Clark had ever heard coming from Bruce's mouth in basically…ever. If this was a hallucination, he was touched either way.

"So," Clark cleared his throat, trying to suppress the pure surprise in his voice, "you went shopping."

"I am capable of such tasks. I don't rely on Alfred for everything."

He laughed. "Clearly. Wow, Bruce, I'm really impressed. You really didn't have to do all of"—

"I'm assuming you're hungry." He spun around and began opening a few other containers. "You may need to microwave some of these."

Thick eyebrows drawn together, it was evident that Bruce was in his focusing mode. It was always odd to see the expression on his face without the darkness of the cowl. Clark ran a hand through his hair with a small grin. "You're not gonna let me say thank you, are you?"

"No."


"Happy New Year!" the champagne sprayed from Wally's hands as he shook the glass bottle in the air. "Woo-hoo!"

John groaned. "Are we really going to do this every time its New Year's in a different part of the world?"

Clark chuckled as he stood by the snack table. He was pretty energized since he had just come back from a boost from the sun but, regardless, he nibbled on the pizza that Wally had ordered. The warm cheese, onions, and sausages melted on Clark's tongue as he ate and conversed with his fellow JLA members. It was a light atmosphere in the meeting room, a few streamers hung overhead while music played softly in the background. The large overhead screen projected the World News, which was on mute, but the images of celebration around the globe were enough to capture the excitement.

Noticing J'onn staring out the window alone, Clark excused himself from Diana and John's ongoing debate about movies, and made his way towards the Martian. "Admiring the view?"

"In a way perhaps…" the window reflected J'onn's solemn face and soon Clark's face appeared. "It is quite beautiful."

They stared at the view of space quietly as the noise of the celebration echoed in the background. It was always odd to think how similar but different he and J'onn were—both aliens with their home planets destroyed. But, while Clark had been blessed with his adoptive Earth parents, J'onn had no one.

Clark spoke up. "I'm glad you've chosen to stay, J'onn. Earth can be…not very beautiful at times."

The music grew louder in the background, some sort of poppy tune, and it was then that Clark noticed that Bruce hadn't appeared yet.

"I still find this planet strange," he said, a ghost of a smile appearing for a moment, "but, I believe without the aid of the others, I would continue to be quite lost."

"Well, I'm glad to aid you in any way. We all are, I mean, as your friends"—

A loud belch rumbled behind them, quickly followed by groans and laughter—"Impressive, Shay!"

Rolling his eyes, Clark shook his head but J'onn merely chuckled. "Odd friends but friends nonetheless."

It was no surprise that Bruce wasn't at the celebration, less of a surprise when no one seemed to mind, and lesser still of a surprise when Clark later found the Caped Crusader in the monitoring room. Midnight was quickly approaching back home and the celebration had gradually intensified, complete with party noisemakers and sparklers. The Kryptonian knew he would find him tucked away somewhere in the Tower, working instead of staying home with loved ones. So, he had wandered the halls until he found what he was looking for. Leaning against the doorframe, Clark watched Batman hunched over the computer, submitting reports and updating files.

"If you're going to watch," he said, never turning, "at least sit down."

Pfft, of course Bruce had noticed him. Sometimes he felt like the guy had some unknown super senses. Clark took the empty swivel chair next to him, setting a glass of wine down that Shayera had shoved into his hands. "I thought you'd at least be in Gotham."

Batman's gloved fingers briefly paused on the keyboard. "They increased police patrol. It wasn't necessary for me to stay."

"But, don't you have one of those annual parties at the manor? The one's you never invite me to."

"Please." He snorted. "Don't beg, Clark. It's unbecoming."

Rolling his eyes, he finally sipped the glass of white wine but his eyebrows furrowed as the alcohol hit his tongue. Darn, he'll never get used to this stuff. A strange, abrupt hiccup sound quickly came from Bruce and it was clear to Clark that he hadn't masked his disgust that well. The billionaire had actually laughed. Surprised, Clark chuckled, his laughter only growing louder as Batman simply shook his head, a small smirk flickering underneath the cowl.


"You know I don't like wine though." Clark sipped the liquid again and shuddered. "Did you douse it with rubbing alcohol and fuel?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Be an adult, Clark."

"Well, at least I can feel it burning the bacteria away down my throat. And probably a section of my throat."

He snorted but sipped his wine quietly, shifting on the chair as Clark sniffled, stomach full. It wasn't like being energized by the sun but the Kryptonian felt much better regardless. After finishing the food, the pair had been sipping wine as the clock ticked. Nearby, the parties throughout the apartment building had reached full swing, music growing louder through the walls as midnight approached.

"I wonder what the rest of the JLA members are up to." He glanced at the clock hanging above and gulped a bit of wine. "Don't think I've heard from them since our last mission in that other dimension."

Bruce shrugged. "Everyone's been busy."

"Yeah, I guess. But, it's so weird how much has past. I remember when we all first celebrated New Year's together—that feels almost like forever ago."

"Getting sentimental, are we."

"I guess." Clark smiled and dragged his finger across the kitchen counter, thinking and took another sip. "I always wonder though…you guys are like my family. It would be such a different life I didn't know any of you."

The billionaire remained quiet, eyes staring off towards the stack of empty containers and paper bags.

"But, I guess that's just how things are in life. Changes. New beginnings. Fresh starts and everything else. You know"—

"Clark…" and it was then that he noticed Bruce's shoulders shaking fairly, that strange hiccupping sound making an appearance again after five years. He was laughing. A smile and everything. Clark's eyebrows shot up in confusion. The laughter continued, short tuffs of breath softly bubbling from the billionaire as he shook his head. "So you get sentimental when tipsy."

"What? I don't—I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm not, then again I don't think I ever have been"—

Pounding on the door interrupted the alien's ramblings and he glanced at Bruce for help, in which of course, he gave none. More chuckles escaped once Clark stood up, swaying slightly with a frown and went to open the door.

"Surprise!" Wally burst from the entrance before the door was even fully opened, Shayera, John, and Diana grinning behind him with a blank-faced J'onn. "Happy New Year!"

The confusion was evident on his face but the joy overtook it quickly. "What are you all doing here?"

"Batman contacted us through the comlink earlier," said John, shedding off his coat and ramming into the wall as Shayera shoved through. He scowled. "Should've used the bathroom before we left."

Wally flung an arm around the bewildered Kryptonian. "Yup. Said something about a mopey Supes needing some lovin'. Well, those weren't his exact words but you get the gist." He glanced at the bottles of wine and raised an eyebrow. "You drunk?"

"You guys didn't have to do this," said Clark smiling and, clearly, dodging the question. "Really."

J'onn sat down next to Diana. "It is what friends are for, Kal-El."

"Um," Shayera wandered back into the living room with a frown, "you do know that you're bathroom is frozen, right?"

The apartment became crowded, full of laughter and chatter as the team caught up together on previous news. Stories of old missions retold, jokes repeated, and wine passed. It was 11:58 and Clark's mouth was sore from smiling so much.

"Sooo," said Clark, definitely feeling the effects of the wine. Who knew that he could? "Are you going to let me say thank you now?"

Bruce had been lounging nearby, not too far away like he normally did, but close enough to be a part of the conversations even though he barely contributed. Sitting on the arm of the couch, close to the edge, his eyes flicked towards the clock before back at Clark. It was midnight. He shrugged but there was a ghost of a grin. "You don't have to."