"She never went back to her apartment after going back for her phone at Luthor Mansion. The door sensor was never set off."

"And what do you need me to do, Bruce?"

Doctor Leslie Thompkins did not purport to be an expert Bruce Wayne's more secretive activities - she had known him since he was a boy, since his parents had passed away, and even so would be the first to admit that she often didn't understand him in the slightest. She had merely committed to helping him, and even now that she was getting on in years, a promise was a promise. She disagreed with the things he did as Batman, but was perhaps the most understanding out of anyone about why he did any of it at all.

"Just make sure she's alright when she comes in for her shift," Bruce explained, with the implication of the question of whether she would arrive at all. When it came to Lex Luthor, one could never be too certain. Doctor Thompkins agreed and hung up just in time for Claire to walk in the door looking utterly...

...unremarkable.

Claire Branigan looked nothing like someone who had been away from home all night. She looked as though she had gotten dressed and prepared in a hurry, the way she always did, and wasted no time before making a beeline for the patient charts to be reviewed for the day.

"Sorry!" she said in a slightly breathless voice, tightening her ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Am I late?"

"Five minutes early as always," Dr. Thompkins said with a dry, wise grin, moving over to go through charts alongside her rather than confronting her directly - Leslie Thompkins, in a the way of a kind, wise old woman, knew how to get people to talk if she needed to. "But more flustered than usual. Are you okay to work today?"

"Of course I am!" Claire replied as she rapidly looked up, her voice perhaps more shrill than it needed to me. "I'm fine. I just had a long night, that's all -"

"At your other job?" Dr. Thompkins said with a gentle tilt of her head to one side. "I've gotten the sense from you that it's been demanding a great deal of your attention, Claire. If you're struggling -"

"It's not the job that I'm struggling with," Claire said vaguely, reaching back and pulling out the ballpoint pen that held her ponytail into a sloppy bun. Dr. Thompkins blinked, unsure of how to interpret the statement - if not Lex Luthor, what else would be leaving her so flustered, so clearly out of her zone? But, as quickly as the weary expression appeared, it was quickly replaced by Claire's signature go-getter grin that had earned her so many friends in this place - because when she was here, everything was put aside. "Let's open up those doors and start seeing those patients!" she said brightly, but her sudden swing of energy was tempered by Dr. Thompkins reaching out and placing a hand on her forearm.

"Before the day starts, I wanted to ask if you were planning on taking the exam soon - becoming a full-fledged nurse practitioner. Taking on patients of your own," Dr. Thompkins asked. "I don't know what's been bothering you, but whatever it is, it's holding you back. And I don't like that Claire. You have too much potential."

"I've... I've been studying, Doctor Thompkins," Claire lied with a weak attempt at laughter. "I'm sure I'm almost ready. Soon," she assured. "There's nothing in the world I want more to really work here. Nothing."

Dr. Thompkins couldn't help but scrutinize her expressions, her voice, her movements - she knew that Claire wasn't a patient, but by now, she had become something even more important. Claire, like Bruce Wayne, had become something like a child to her as well, and it was clear at this moment that something was not right. Leslie Thompkins had no children of her, and so those she had taken under her winfg were more important to her than anything. There were three great stressors present in Claire's life, and if it was not her studies, and it was not her very important patient, there was only one other possibility. But Dr. Thompkins didn't bother her further on the topic, knowing that seeing patients was one of the few places where Claire found actual joy in what she was doing. There was precious little that she could do to change Claire's situation even with all that she knew, but she could give her this much. Dr. Thompkins watched Claire closely throughout the day - she had been in this business for even longer than the clinic in Gotham's infamous Crime Alley had been open, and she saw herself in the young nurse, full of willingness to help others and fervor for making things better.

The day passed quickly - perhaps aided by the fact that sunset seemed to come unseasonably early today. Even in the height of summer, the sunlight was already growing dim and fading into a deep lavender by the time the clinic started seeing its last patients at five in the evening. Claire gave a small yawn and looked out the window, finally sitting down in a chair by a desk and finishing up her documentation for the day.

"I'll take car of closing up the clinic today, Claire. If you've got any juice left, you should start studying for a certain exam when you get home," Dr. Thompkins said with a slight nudge, sitting in a chair next to her. Claire gave a week laugh and scratched the back of her neck. "You're going home, aren't you?"

"Something like that," Claire shrugged.

Dr. Thompkins did not push the issue further with her young protegee, but, after the younger woman had left, picked up the phone with a deep breath.

"Bruce," she said into the receiver once he had picked up. "Claire was here - she's fine. But I don't know if she's going home tonight."

After getting of the phone with Leslie Thompkins, Bruce found himself unable to help needing a moment of clarity that could only be found in a glass of scotch. He had been in the study, attempting as he always was to find leads to the locations of the new metahumans, and as she had frequently been in the recent months, Diana Prince was present as well to assist. She looked with slight disdain at the fact that Bruce was seeking solace in a solution that would not aid in their work.

"We're losing her, Di," Bruce said, shaking his head and taking another swig from his glass, clenching his eyelids shut so he could focus all of his senses to the burning of thie liquor down his throat. "The nurse is central to our plan - to making sure we have an eye on Luthor's movements. If she refuses to report back, he has the opportunity to pull one over on us and I can't let that happen again. Not after-"

"Claire," Diana corrected, her forehead wrinkled as her face pulled into a frown, rising to her feet and looking at Bruce eye-to-eye. The intense eye contact, in turn, distracted him from his drinking and drew his attention to the woman in front of him who without question commanded it. "Her name is Claire. She is a person, not a tool, and you've failed to treat her as one, Bruce. If we lose her, then it is your doing -"

"And you think she's being treated like any more of a person in Luthor Mansion?" Bruce interrupted, though Diana was able to pick up on a slight slur throughout his syllables. Bruce shook his head, partially in incredulity and partially perhaps to clear the haze. "We're not hurting the girl, Diana. Do you think whatever is happening in Luthor Mansion is preferable -"

"You forget that Luthor values her. It was the entire reason you chose her," Diana corrected vehemently. "I don't pretend to know things that I have not seen - but I have seen many things, Bruce. I've been alive a long time, and I know that whether you believe someone is fully good or fully evil, you will be wrong either way."

"There is no good in Lex Luthor," Bruce said, unable to suppress a sneer. How could it be that someone who had seen so much of the world, so much of the awful things and awful people that it could contained, could maintain such a naive sentiment? Unconsciously, he found himself leaning closer to Diana, scrutinizing her expression but finding that in the process, he finally really looked at her. She had been right in her assessment long ago that he had never met a woman like her. He had never met a woman more set in her convictions, more swift in intellect and in strategy. Even now, when she so confrontationally was defying him, there was an energy that practically seemed to radiate from her. He realized that he had never met a woman he had considered so worthy - worthy was the only word he could muster to describe the power she exuded.

"That is not your judgment to make, Bruce," Diana retorted after an intense pause. And then - perhaps out of a mix of intense emotion and scotch and awe of the woman in front of him - he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, gently running his rough hand over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, winding gently into the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. A low, boiling sense of desire seemed to overcome all other perception of their surroundings as Diana for a few stirring seconds reciprocated the kiss, but quickly pulled away, looking down at the ground with brows knitted as a perturbed expression crossed her refined features. She took a step back from Bruce with a deep frown, but shook her head and walked around the table to where one of the state-of-the-art Wayne Enterprises-issue laptops was still opened to the work she had been doing.

Bruce, for his part, realized what he had done and grimaced, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck, pushing the half-finished glass of liquor away from himself across the table with a light scratching sound. Diana Prince was not like other women - and he realized that he ought to have known better than to treat her like he treated other woman.

"Diana, I'm sorry -"

"We have a lead," she said, turning the laptop to face him and appearing extremely committed to not acknowledging the events of moments prior. On the screen of the laptop was a photo from the website of the Central City police department, with a younger man in the back whose face was the only vaguely familiar one in the picture.

"The metahuman from the convenience store. I remember."

"His name is Barry Allen," Diana correctly quickly, and Bruce could tell from the shortness in her tone that she considered his references to metahumans as though they were others as a grave offense that made his indiscretions from not even a minute ago an even greater offense. Bruce Wayne's detachment from people made him strong as a tactician, strong as Batman perhaps, but in her eyes it weakened him terribly as a person. If not for that weakness, Diana wondered in some small corner of her mind if perhaps his advances might have been welcome. "He's a junior forensic scientist for the Central City Police."

Again, a silence settled between the pair of them - Diana shut the laptop and walked back around the table to stand in front of Bruce again, gently tilting her head to one side. "I've told you before. We will never work together to any success if you continue to see only humans and metahumans. If you choose to only see enemies, then enemies are all you will ever have."

And again, in the way she always seemed to, she turned on her heel at the perfect beat to depart the room with a casual, almost dismissive, "Good night, Mister Wayne."

Claire felt a sense of apprehension at the fact that when she pulled up in front of Luthor Mansion, Lex, clad in khakis, a sweater, and Converse shoes, was standing outside with one of his cars already pulled into the front driveway - he leaned against the car and twirling his keyring lazily around his index finger.

This morning, he had decided, was too close for comfort. Perhaps yes, it had been intentional on his part that he had pushed her so hard as somewhat of a test. But people had to be tested. It was the only way to know who people truly were - who people truly were. But now, the priority was ensuring that he would not lose his sole ally now that she had passed his test.

"There she is! The lady of the hour," Lex smirked, closing his hand around his keys with a flourish and walking over to meet Claire with a wide-armed gesture, while she in turn froze in hesitation. "You must be exhausted. Your chariot awaits -"

"What are you doing?" she interrupted, crossing her arms over herself and taking a step back before Lex could place his hands on her shoulders. "If this is another -"

"This isn't another anything. This is one human being offering another human being his gratitude - I'd like to offer you a proper meal, no cameras, no get-ups. No... ulterior motive."

At the last phrase, Claire couldn't help but allow a small twitch in her expression. The idea of Lex Luthor having no ulterior motive was laughable to say the least. But even if she could not believe him as being completely honest, there was something earnest about his statement and the fact that at the very least, he had taken the effort to get dressed and bring out one of his favorite cars to make the gesture.

"Fine," Claire said, and Lex clapped his hands together, giving a slightly jerky nod of his head.

"Perfect! Prepare to be blown away."

Claire, still in her scrubs, clambered into the passenger seat of the car and kept her hands folded in her lap the entire way, as though hoping that shrinking herself to as small a size as possible would make this experience any less unusual.

Luthor was situated just at the edge of Metropolis, so she was surprised when the car zoomed along farther from the city proper - no more than ten miles, but off far enough so that they were now nearer to the bay. Lex stopped the car at scenic viewpoint, a cliff overlooking the water, and turned off the engine, which earned him a questioning glance from Claire who immediately undid my seatbelt.

"If you dragged me out here to axe-murder me, Mister Luthor, you certainly haven't planned it well. Blood's gonna be awful to get out of your leather upholstery in here."

"You wound me, Miss Branigan," Lex smirked, feigning affront and clasping a hand over his heart before stepping out of the car and nodding for her to do the same. In compliance, Claire stepped out and walked around to the front of the car, while Lex pulled something out from the trunk of the car. It was already dark out, but the lamppost light overhead cast enough light on them and their surroundings so Claire could see him bring over a pair o wine glasses in one hand with the bottled cradled in the crook of his arm, and two black plastic to-go containers that Claire recognized from a chintzy old Italian place in Metropolis. He placed everything down on the hood of the car and proceeded to pour two glasses of wine, not bothering to ask where or not Claire wanted any.

"As promised. No cameras, no gimmicks," he said, holding out the glass to her and allowing one side of his mouth to quirk into a slight grin as she raised the glass to her lips and took a drink. Good, he decided. She still possessed some level of trust in him. He took a drink himself and again relished the way the alcohol seemed to get warmer on its way down - he had never had any affinity for this particular vice until his father's most unfortunate passing, but he had now come to see its merits.

Claire was, admittedly, famished by now - and immensely thankful that Lex didn't attempt to speak to her any more as she ate. The pair of them simply stood there, leaning against the hood of the car, eating and drinking in silence. There was something to be said, she realized, about being able to remain silently in someone's presence.

"I'm surprised. You haven't looked even once at your phone to check the time since we got here," Lex said as he poured a second glass of wine. Claire frowned slightly, thinking that now she would need to be the one to drive home since he was clearly planning on indulging himself on the vino. She was surprised, however, when he instead slid the glass over to her, and in her surprised, she accepted another drink. "You're usually very much in a hurry to get somewhere, Claire."

"I'm not in any rush to go home."

The phrase was short and frank, but did something to fill the air between them again with a strange electricity because of the strange undertone of fear in it.

Claire knew, of course, where the fear came from. It came from the thought of walking back into her apartment and not knowing whether or not she would be alone, and from the feeling of ambivalence she felt towards something she thought she should not have felt it towards. Claire knew that Batman was supposed to be the good guy - the hero. But Claire saw nothing heroic about doing what was asked of her, and that was why she was in no rush to go back home.

Lex, on the other hand, heard something familiar in the way she had said it - because he was all too familiar with the thought of being afraid to go home, of not knowing what was waiting for you there. And it set the wheels in his head turning - there was something she did not want to go home to, and she preferred being away from it. She preferred being here. With him.

"Then don't go," he shrugged noncommittally. "I have a perfectly good guest suite."

"I can't do that," Claire dismissed, shaking her head. Lex paused and made a point of staring - very intently staring. After a few moments, Claire turned to look at him with a questioning expression, placing the glass of wine down again on the hood of the car. Lex took this brief opening in her body language to shift over so that he had a hand on either side of her on the hood of the car, hovering over her. Her eyes widened in surprised, but perhaps because of the couple of glasses of wine, she didn't immediately react.

Lex realized he had been this close to her in the restaurant as well - and there had been something thrilling too about lingering so close to her when she was as angry as she had been then. But there was something entirely different about the proximity to her when she was like this, calm and perhaps vulnerable. He felt simultaneously predatorial and protective, and his eyes scanned her face for a reaction that had not yet come.

"You're such a waste, Claire," he said suddenly - and now, her eyes glinted with surprise and confusion, which elicited only a smirk from Lex. "Such an awful, awful waste."

"What are you talking about?" Claire asked with her brow furrowing. She gently reached up and placed a hand on Lex's chest with the intention of pushing him away, but he caught her by the wrist - gently enough so that for once, it was not a threatening gesture - and lowered her hand.

"I told you, I've done my homework on you. I know you didn't become a nurse until after your father died," he said matter-of-factly. "Like me - your father's death changed the trajectory of your entire life. Brought you to this very spot. But one has to wonder how big a help the Princeton Microbiology Fellowship was in getting you a job as my babysitter. Let me guess," Lex said with a slight chuckle when Claire finally managed to gently push him away and step off a few steps around the side of the car as though she was about to get back inside, shaking her head in disdain. "You want to make a difference. You want to help people. It's wonderfully pointless work, Claire."

"You don't know anything about me, Lex."

"On the contrary," he grinned, holding up his index finger and wagging it in Claire's direction. "I know a great deal about you. A great, great deal." He again glanced her over as she rolled her eyes, but did not fight back or flee - she was listening. She was receptive, and now was the time, he decided.

"Work for me," Lex said suddenly, and the sudden imperative caused Claire to cock her head to one side questioningly.

"I was under the impression I already did. For sixty hours a week," she deadpanned, raising her eyebrows. "Lex, we really should go -"

"I meant," Lex said, shutting his eyes and again shaking a finger in her direction, "work for LexCorp. You're above the work you're doing, Claire."

"I'm flattered," she said with a forced, poised smile that tugged at her unpainted lips, only barely lifting her cheeks which were slightly reddened from the cool wind and the wine. "But I must respectfully decline."

"That's a silly mistake."

Claire was initially tempted to retort, but found herself unable to when suddenly, Lex had slinked over and again had his arms resting against the car door on either side of her and his face close to hers, his eyes lingering without discretion on her mouth. He needed, of course, to keep her on her toes. And if perhaps he got something he wanted in the process, it was more than good enough. But not yet, he decided. He smirked and, with a hand on Claire's waist, gently guided her out of the way and opened the car door for her. The expression of confusion on her face, he realized, meant that the tactic had worked - she had expected something to happen, and the fact that it hadn't, that he'd subverted her expectation, placed the ball in his court, precisely where he liked it.

"Back home, then?" he asked with a casual, lopsided grin, relishing the fact that he was so in control of the situation, the he'd caught her so off guard. "You look a little flushed, Claire. I wouldn't dream of letting you drive home in this condition. Stay in the guest suite tonight - no funny business. I insist."

And in her confusion, this time, she did not refuse. She got into the car, stunned. Lex Luthor, she realized, had gotten into her head. There was a reason that people compartmentalized their work and personal lives, and because she'd forgotten to do so, she chided herself harshly, she was in this position.

"I've got my sights set on you, Claire," Lex said in a calm, cryptic tone once they were finally on their way back to the manor, while Claire was for once speechless, barely able to even process what had just happened. "You are my most valuable ally."

A/N

I hope you guys enjoyed the update. As always, I am super humbled and so appreciative because of all your feedback, and please know that even if I'm not able to reply one by one, it means the world to me. I'm really trying to fine-tune the way I write all the characters, so all of your feedback really helps me develop them.

Next chapter, we have a glimpse at a new ally in a new setting, and the tug-of-war for Claire's loyalty deepens.

Until next time, cheers!