With Alfred's help, Clark found a blue plaid suit that fit him well enough, and a pair of glasses that Bruce must have used for some disguise. Once he was ready, he snuck back downstairs for Alfred to show him in like any guest.

Clark recognized the entrance to Wayne Manor, but it could hardly have been more different from the dark, gloomy, almost abandoned mansion he had glimpsed with his x-ray vision once or twice, looming over the Batcave. It was still a mansion, but almost homey, in shades of brown from rich wood to soft beige, with innocuously opulent decoration.

"Right this way, sir." Alfred showed him into the living room; a juxtaposition of classical columns and plain modern furniture.

Bruce and Dick were already waiting inside and both stood as Clark entered. Their civilian clothes were both old-fashioned, of course; Dick looked like every stereotype of a prep-schoolboy, but Clark was surprised how well Bruce cleaned up. Gone was the stiff, somewhat awkward Batman, and underneath there was no trace of stubble or crow's feet, only a charming, fashionable billionaire like the Bruce that Clark knew only barely pretended to be.

Bruce smiled warmly at the sight of him, and Clark could only smile back.

"Mr. Clark Kent," Alfred announced.

"A reporter with the Daily Planet," Clark added.

Bruce glanced between Clark and Alfred in surprise, as though to figure out which of them had come up with the cover story. Alfred only shrugged.

"A reporter?" Dick exclaimed.

"When I'm not busy saving the world."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kent," Bruce said, his earnesty even more striking without the cowl.

"Call me Clark."

"Clark," Bruce corrected himself, "you've come just in time to join us for a little family luncheon."

Bruce led Clark into a dining room that was certainly fancy, but nothing like the big, empty hall Clark had expected, filled by a long table where everyone sat as far apart as possible. The room was a normal size, with a round table in the center, comfortably set for four with china plates and silver utensils, and a few dishes already in the center.

They were joined by a little, middle-aged woman, with red curls, in a brightly colored dress and cardigan that Clark assumed must have been fashionable.

Bruce introduced them, "This is Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. Clark, this is Dick's Aunt Harriet."

"A reporter?" Aunt Harriet exclaimed as they all sat down around the table.

Dick was first to reach across to start filling his plate.

"I'm just here to help people get to know Gotham's most prominent industrialist," Clark tried to assuage her concerns.

"I'm honored that you find me worthy of such interest," Bruce said, "but my truly important work is as head of the Wayne Foundation. It's the duty of especially those most fortunate to do everything we can to serve our community and our country."

Clark was surprised again by how much Bruce seemed to mean it, like it was all much more than just a cover for his activities as Batman.

Bruce continued, "I regret that I'm not familiar with the Daily Planet, but I must express my appreciation for the work that you do. All honest reporters play an essential role in keeping people informed, and only an informed populace can be truly free."

"That's what I thought too when I went to work at the Planet, but you'd be surprised how few people seem to agree. Maybe things are better here, but these days- where I'm from, all the paper cares about is saving itself by cutting corners and trying to increase sales, rather than daring to stand for something."

"Why, that's terrible," Aunt Harriet exclaimed. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I grew up in Smallville, Kansas, ma'am. The city I call my home now is a long way from here."

"You mean like New York?"

"Not exactly."

Bruce hastily stepped in, "The important thing is not to give up trying to do what's right." He said it with remarkable natural conviction.

"The world could use more people like you."

Bruce's cheeks flushed light pink. "I'm just an ordinary citizen trying to do my part."

"If this is what ordinary citizens are like here, then it must be a paradise."

Bruce's blush deepened and he took a quick sip of water to clear his throat. "No, Gotham is no paradise, but I believe that like everywhere in our nation, its citizens are all honest people, who try to do what they can to make the world a better place, they just sometimes don't see eye to eye."

"And don't forget those dastardly super-criminals that Batman and Robin are always fighting! I'd love to give them a piece of my mind!" Dick said.

"Oh my," Aunt Harriet exclaimed. "That's hardly a subject for the table!"

"Your aunt is right, Dick." Bruce gave his ward a pointed look.

"You're right. Sorry Aunt Harriet and Mr. Kent."

Aunt Harriet shook her head and turned to Clark to change the subject, "Even an ace reporter can't be all work and no play. What do you do when you're not on the job, Mr. Kent? With all the time Dick and Bruce spend out fishing, I don't know how they get anything else done."

"We do plenty!" Dick protested.

"Yes," Bruce said, "it's not all fishing, we also like to keep up on the classics, and Dick has been making good progress in his piano lessons."

"It all keeps me so busy I barely have time to just kick back and relax - not that I'd trade any of it for the world, Bruce, though I wouldn't mind a little less of old Shakespeare and a few more comic books."

Clark smiled despite himself. "Work takes up most of my time too, but I used to read comic books; Spider-Man, Wolverine and the X-Men, Captain America…"

"Gee! I think I saw a few issues just the other day featuring the spectacular webslinger, and that all new team of mutants!"

"I don't know about Spider- or X-Men, but I enjoyed the adventures of Captain America as a boy," Bruce said. "My favorite were detective stories and swashbucklers. It's been too long since I've picked one up." Clark wondered if he imagined a sad look in Bruce's eye despite his smile.

"Sometimes, it feels like being a reporter isn't too different from being a detective, like Sherlock Holmes or Dick Tracy. But I really loved sci-fi. I would read anything with an alien planet in it or another world, even historical fiction."

"It is said that the past is a foreign country, and maybe our best lens into other worlds."

"That was the closest I ever got."

"It's easy to get caught up in the intricacies of life here on Earth, but there is nothing quite like the promise of life on other planets." There was a warmth in Bruce's words, or maybe just his gaze, that shot straight through Clark.

"Some of the things that show up in Gotham are pretty out of this world," Dick said, though a look from Aunt Harriet stopped him short.

After lunch, Bruce and Clark returned to the somehow modest living room, while Alfred cleaned up and Dick talked with his Aunt Harriet in the other room. Earlier, Clark had been preoccupied by the sight of Bruce, but this time he noticed the portrait hanging over the fireplace of a man, not much older than this Bruce, with a clear resemblance, in an old-fashioned suit.

"Thomas Wayne, my father." Bruce stood beside Clark, looking up at the portrait. "He was a good man. Everything I've done is in his legacy."

"I'm sure he would be proud of you." Of this Bruce, Clark had no doubt.

Bruce hesitated. "Is your family…?"

"My birth parents were destroyed with Krypton just after I was born."

"I'm sorry."

Clark shook his head. "This is what they wanted for me, to bring hope to the people of Earth. And I have a human family too, well, just Ma now, but they're the ones who really raised me, prepared me for what I had to do."

"That's a big job."

"You'd be surprised how much of the time it seems like it's just doing nothing."

Bruce gave him an encouraging smile, and led the way back to the sofa. "I've often found the best way to help people is to show them how to help themselves."

Clark sat down next to him. "I mostly stay out of the way until another alien invasion comes along."

"Another?"

Clark chuckled at Bruce's astonishment. "We've fought off two so far. Bruce - the other Batman - fought beside me against the second one."

"Do you know the other Bruce Wayne well?" Bruce asked cautiously.

"We got off to a rough start, and then I died, but we've been getting to know each other since he helped bring me back and we fought off that second invasion with the rest of the Justice League."

Bruce shook his head in amazement, but his handsome features gradually turned serious. "It's hard not to envy him, having a friend like you. I have Dick, of course, but it's just the two of us, and he's still my responsibility."

"It's not an easy business. Even with the League, I can't get too close. I was engaged to Lois, but it was too hard not to protect her. We couldn't do it."

"A crimefighter has to do what a crimefighter has to do, but meeting you gives me hope that maybe we don't have to do it alone." Bruce's eyes shone.

Clark hesitated.

"Pardon me, Master Bruce, Mr. Kent," Alfred interrupted, "there's an urgent call."

"I see." Bruce leaped to his feet and waved Clark along, into the other room, where Dick was still talking with his Aunt Harriet. "Dick, Alfred just reminded me we were going to show Clark some of our favorite fishing spots before it gets too late."

"Oh! Of course, right away Bruce!"

"Now just a minute!" Aunt Harriet tried to protest.

"Sorry, Aunt Harriet!"

Dick and Bruce hurried from the room, and Clark followed uncertainly after them. Alfred ushered them all into the elegant library, where he passed Bruce the receiver of a bright red rotary phone, similar to the one in the Batmobile.

"Batman?" the man on the other end asked.

"Yes, Commissioner?" Bruce said, suddenly all business, though he didn't disguise his voice.

"I'm sorry to trouble you again, but it seems crime never rests. You're needed here right away, and I'm afraid it's a real doozy this time!"

"We'll be right over." Bruce put down the phone, and, to Clark's surprise, reached for the bust of William Shakespeare next to it.

With a glance at Dick, Bruce flipped open the head of the bust to reveal a button, which he pressed. The bookcase in the far wall slid open to reveal a pair of neatly labeled fireman's poles leading down into the Batcave. Bruce and Dick raced to the poles, but Bruce paused at the top, with a glance back at Clark, silently urging him to follow.

Clark lowered himself into the cave after them. Bruce and Dick had slipped into their costumes on the way, and now Clark took off his glasses and pulled open the borrowed suit to reveal his Superman costume underneath. He caught a grin from Bruce before Bruce and Dick piled into the car and they all sped off back to Gotham.

The Gotham City Police Headquarters was another white marble building, with grecian columns. Bruce pulled up in front and parked the Batmobile, and he and Dick raced inside. Clark hovered in after them. Officers, clerks, and secretaries stopped to wave as they passed.

"I wonder what the commissioner has called Batman here for today."

"There must be something serious going on."

"Did you see? He's got the alien with him too!"

They went straight to the commissioner's office. It wasn't so different from Wayne Manor, in shades of light brown, with shelves lined with books against the walls. Clark recognized the aging commissioner, though he looked less world-weary than Clark knew him, and had lost his mustache. He was joined by a younger officer who regarded Superman with a look that could have been suspicious or quizzical.

"Batman, Robin, not a minute too soon! And is this the Super-Man from another planet?" the commissioner said.

Bruce nodded. "We had a chat and I can vouch for him as a fellow hero."

"He's from another dimension, with another Batman and everything!" Dick explained.

"Wherever he's from, if you vouch for him Batman, then that's good enough for us," the commissioner said, even though it was a lot to take on faith from a person whose real identity he probably didn't even know. "And we need all the help we can get."

"It's the Riddler, that dastardly Prince of Puzzlers, at it again with another of his diabolical riddles," the officer said.

"He left this." The commissioner handed Bruce an ordinary sheet of paper.

Written on the paper in large, black letters was, "What has a 20 foot handle but can't hold water?"

Bruce crossed his arms over his chest and they all pondered the incomprehensible riddle.

Suddenly, Dick exclaimed, "I've got it! A giant butterfly net!"

"Of course, Robin," Bruce said, as though it was a reasonable solution.

"Why didn't I think of that?" The officer shook his head in dismay.

"And the next one…" Bruce unfolded the paper to reveal another riddle. "What do you call it when a logger makes a mistake?"

After a moment's thought, Dick exclaimed again, "An axe-ident!"

"Axe…" Bruce said thoughtfully, as though he were onto something. "Or chopper!"

Clark couldn't make head or tail of it, but Dick seemed to have a dawning realization, "Chopper also means helicopter…"

"And how do you catch a helicopter?"

"With a giant butterfly net!"

"Exactly, Robin! Someone's going to steal the Bat-copter!"

Clark tried to puzzle through the whole absurd train of logic, but he came up empty. "Wait, Batman, are you sure that's what it means?"

"Absolutely certain. It's the only solution that makes sense."

"Batman's never been wrong yet," Commissioner Gordon said.

With that bid of confidence, it was hard to argue, not that Clark could say he understood it, but Batman was the undisputed expert, and maybe to defeat the crazed villains of Gotham, he had to be a bit mad himself.

"Riddler's going to try and steal the Bat-copter?" the officer asked.

"I'm afraid, not just Riddler," Bruce said. "Did you notice that these riddles seemed almost like jokes… joking riddles you could say?"

"You don't mean?" Dick asked warily.

"I'm afraid so."

"Riddler and Joker working together," the commissioner said with a shake of his head. "It's an unhappy day for Gotham when those twisted minds join forces."

Clark could barely begin to call the commissioner's assessment an understatement. He was right, but despite their grave expressions, no one seemed to see the real danger. This was a different dimension than the one Clark knew, things were different, but this was Joker.

"And with Riddler working with Catwoman earlier," the commissioner continued, "she could very well be in on the scheme too."

"Oh dear. If you can't stop them, Batman, I don't know what hope we have," the officer said.

"Don't worry, Robin and I will do everything we can, and now we have our new ally, Super-Man to help us." Bruce gave Clark a smile.

It was a difficult invitation to resit, but Clark hesitated. "That's very kind of you, Batman, but it might be best if I didn't get involved."

Bruce's face fell.

"Why not?" Robin insisted. "You won't be in any danger with Batman and I around."

"It's not my place to interfere with things on Earth. Any action I take can have unintended consequences."

"But Batman said you were a hero," the officer protested.

"And you've lived on Earth most of your life, right?" Robin said. "That makes you as much an Earthling as the rest of us!"

"I don't like it, but my father was right; I was sent to Earth to be a beacon of hope, I can't just use my powers because I want to." Clark silently pleaded for Bruce to understand.

Finally, Bruce said, "You're right, Super-Man, for every action there are always unintended consequences; as a hero, there are always more people we could be helping, and always someone who gets left behind, but just because we can't help everyone doesn't mean we shouldn't try to help anyone for fear of having to choose. And whatever you've been told, helping someone is never the wrong thing to do. I don't know what better way to bring people hope than to give them the promise of another day."

Clark wanted to believe him, to make Superman the kind of hero this Batman would be proud to fight beside. But it wasn't the same. Batman was extraordinary, but underneath the costume, underneath all of his fancy gadgets, he was a man, not a god from another world. It was okay if he only saved some of them.

Clark shook his head, but said, "I'll come."

It wasn't a job for Superman, but he couldn't leave them to walk into a trap with Joker on the loose. Maybe he could make a small difference, for another hero, and that would be enough.

Dick cheered and Bruce rewarded him with a smile that shone like the sun, but Clark was left with the feeling that this Batman- Bruce was a far better symbol of hope than he had ever been.

Clark followed the Batmobile as it raced out of Gotham, not into the hills, but through an open expanse of patchy wetland just inland of the docks, dotted with warehouses.

However, before they even reached the Gotham airfield, Dick gave a shout, "Look! Up there! It's not just Joker and Riddler we have to worry about!" He pointed up at the sky, in the other direction from the airfield, where a penguin-shaped dirigible drifted through the air.

Clark caught up to the Batmobile just as Bruce began to slow down to meet him. "I'll go take a look."

Bruce nodded, barely taking his eyes off the road. "Thank you, Super-Man."

Clark lifted up into the air, scanning the horizon. A distant bang, like rocket fire, drew his attention away from the blimp, inland, where he saw some faint fireworks bursting in the bright blue sky that read, "HA HA."

"Joker." Clark dropped from the air to inform Bruce.

"Holy triumvirate of villainy, Batman!" Dick exclaimed at the news.

"Exactly, Robin, and I'm not sure we can count Catwoman out yet."

"A quartet! But what do we do, Batman? There are three of us and three of them…"

Before either of them had a chance, Clark volunteered, "I'll stop Joker."

"That's very generous of you, Super-Man," Bruce said. "Are you sure?"

Clark couldn't just let the young, cheerful Dick walk into a deadly trap, unaware. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"Thank you. Then Robin and I will continue to the airfield and see about this dastardly riddle, and if all goes well, we'll get the Batcopter to stop the Penguin's foul dirigible."

Clark nodded - he knew better than to try to wish any Batman well - and lifted back up into the air. He followed the lingering smoke from the fireworks toward the industrial part of the city, lined with warehouses. The trail led directly into a hatch in the roof of an old trick umbrella factory.

He lowered himself into the dark through an open elevator shaft between stacks of crates, all filled to the brim with umbrellas. He was not alone. There was someone there, behind him; a heart beating, lungs breathing in and out, quiet footsteps against the metal floor.

"Wahwahwah," a low laugh echoed around the hard walls.

Beyond the crates was a web of machinery; lifts and presses, and conveyor belts piled umbrellas in various stages of construction. And in the midst of them was a man in a purple suit with a bleached white face and a wide, red smile.

Superman blasted across the factory, through the crates and machinery, straight for the grimly grinning man, who taunted him from the middle of the factory floor. A giant metal cage dropped from the ceiling, catching Clark before he could reach his target.

Clark shrugged it off, scattering the metal bars, but the delay was just long enough for him to realize that there was something different about this "Joker." He was rounder, with a thin nose, smoking a cigarette from a long black holder.

"Wahwahwah!" the man laughed, his umbrella already raised to fire a rocket at point blank range.

Clark caught the rocket and crushed it in his hand.

"What kind of monster are you?" the Penguin demanded, cowering behind his umbrella as he tried to back away from Superman.

Clark strode toward him, undeterred. "Where's the Joker?"

"Why should I know?"

Clark's eyes began to glow red hot.

"H-He's probably at the airfield by now, dealing with your batty friend."

Clark forced his eyes to cool back down and blasted straight upward, through the roof of the factory, into the open sky. The dirigible was nowhere in sight. Clark dove for the airfield. Buried beneath the asphalt, in a little storeroom under the hangars, Bruce and Dick were trapped in some sort of woven tube that constricted around them. A man in bright green spandex covered in black question marks laughed maniacally over them. Despite the costume, Clark could recognize that bleached white face and ghastly grin anywhere.

He pummeled straight through the ground, into the Joker. In a flash, he tore apart the trap that was holding Bruce and Dick, and slammed into the Joker before he could get back up.

"It's Super-Man!" Dick exclaimed, miraculously still unharmed.

But he couldn't let Joker catch his breath.

"Super-Man," Bruce called out to him.

"Stay back. Who knows what tricks he has left up his sleeves," Clark warned.

Bruce caught Clark's arm as he drew it back for another punch. "Enough. I don't know what's gotten into you, but we'll handle it from here."

Clark glanced between Bruce's stern look and Dick's wide-eyed stare. Joker lay on the ground at Clark's feet, unconscious, his green costume bloodied, but still alive.

"You know how dangerous he is. He killed…" Clark stopped short with a glance at Dick, who was still staring at him aghast.

It was enough for Bruce to understand, and his fists clenched, but he steadied himself with a deep breath. "Whatever he may have done, I don't know how things are handled in your world, Super-Man, but here criminals are handed over to the authorities and given due process of the law, even supercriminals like Joker. It's not our place to be judge, jury, and executioner, and we will not stand for cruel and unusual punishment. Robin, go call Commissioner Gordon, and tell him to send an ambulance."

Dick rushed outside.

"I'm sorry," Clark said. "I shouldn't have come."

Bruce seemed not to hear him as he leaned back against the remains of the trap that had held him and Dick. "Sometimes I regret bringing Dick with me. He's the best crime fighting partner I could ask for, but it's also my responsibility to keep him safe. I wish I could say that couldn't happen in this dimension, but the job of a crimefighter isn't without its hazards anywhere. I don't know what I would do if I were in your position. I would hope that I could live up to my ideals, but just the thought has me seeing red."

"Bruce, I'm sorry."

Clark tentatively put a hand on Bruce's arm, and Bruce covered Clark's hand with his own.

"Thank you for coming with us. We always manage to escape the villains' traps somehow, but it's always too close for comfort. I don't know if we would have gotten out in time if not for you."

Clark was the first to hear the distant, approaching sirens, and the two heroes went out side by side to meet the authorities.

Dick ran over to greet them as they emerged, still eyeing Clark warily. "Batman, the Batcopter is gone! It's been stolen!"

"It must be the Riddler," Bruce declared.

"Of course!"

"I should have known it was Catwoman up in that blimp; penguins can't fly."

"But nor can cats," Dick pointed out.

"But cats always land on their feet. And then who better to steal the Batcopter than Riddler disguised as Catwoman!"

"Gosh! What a dastardly scheme!"

"Nothing less than we should expect from the most dangerous supercriminals in Gotham City, if not the world. But if we act fast, we should just have time to catch them. Since they've stolen the Batcopter, I'll have to take the Bat-Hang Glider after them. Super-Man will come with me, and Robin, you can follow us on the ground in the Batmobile."

"Are you sure, Batman?" Dick asked with a glance at Clark.

"Super-Man was just doing what he thought needed to be done to protect us, and I've explained to him that that's not how we do things in Gotham City."

"I'm sorry, Robin," Clark said. "I should have known that this world was different."

Dick gave a sharp nod. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Bruce agreed. "Remember the rules of safe driving."

"Of course, Batman."

Dick ran off to the car, while Bruce and Clark hurried into the hangar. The lights were all off and the crew gone, but it was far from empty despite the theft. It was lined with helicopters, and other aerial vehicles, of all shapes and sizes. There was a helicopter that looked like a big, white egg, another like pink, perfectly round gumball, and a seaplane that was decorated as an ancient Egyptian barge, and it went on into the darkness.

Just by the entrance was an open space labeled "Batcopter" and Bruce grabbed the "Bat-Hang Glider" leaning against the wall next to it. They raced back out onto the runway. Clark stood off to the side as Bruce put on a pair of Bat-goggles, unfolded the glider's enormous bat wings, grabbed the handle, and ran with the unwieldy contraption down the runway, until it got caught in the wind and the sea air lifted him up off the ground.

Clark hovered after Bruce, following him upward as the glider slowly gained height. He could see Dick in the Batmobile down below, on the highway leading away from the airfield, back toward the city.

"They'll go to pick up the Penguin from the trick umbrella factory first," Bruce said over the wind, and it was echoed over the speakers of the Batmobile below.

Clark looked out over the factory where he had faced the Penguin, but there was nothing there, even the smoke from the fireworks was long gone. He tried to peer through the walls of the factory, but his x-ray vision was too badly obscured by lead to see what was going on inside.

Further inland was the city, with its low, sprawling suburbs settling in for the evening, the offices already dark in the skyscrapers of downtown. On the other side were sandy beaches leading out into the ocean. And in the sky, heading straight for the sea, was a helicopter with a clear cockpit, red metalwork, and a pair of large black bat wings sticking off the sides.

Crammed inside the cockpit were three squabbling villains. The Penguin, dressed in a purple suit, his face now cleaned from the white and red paint, reclined in his seat, his cigarette holder still sticking out of his mouth, while the others worked the controls. Catwoman was in the middle, dressed in a tuxedo, with a purple bowtie, and on her other side was the Riddler in a black catsuit with a pair of cat ears on his head.

Clark caught Bruce's attention and motioned out at the helicopter.

Into his wire Bruce exclaimed, "Robin, they've beat us to it and are making a hasty retreat out to sea!"

"Roger that, Batman," Dick replied. "I'll follow your lead."

Bruce shifted his weight on the glider to bank around, toward the ocean and the stolen helicopter. He silently glided closer, gradually gaining on them.

Suddenly, the helicopter pitched as a commotion erupted inside. The Riddler jumped up and down, gesturing frantically behind them; the heroes had been spotted. Catwoman pressed a button on the console and a small hatch opened up in the back of the helicopter, with a missile pointing out of it.

Bruce only barely had time to swerve out of the way as the missile fired past him. Clark caught it in the air before it could do any damage to the city below.

"We have to stop them!" Bruce shouted over the wind.

Clark flew underneath the wings of the glider, so he was right next to Bruce.

"Can you catch them if I disable the helicopter?" Bruce asked.

Clark barely had time to answer, "Yes," as another missile came firing at them. He caught it just in time with a blink of his laser vision.

"Thank you," Bruce said, and then peeled away, to catch up with the helicopter.

The fragile wings of the glider drifted almost dangerously close to the spinning blades of the helicopter. Bruce shifted his grip on the handle for just a second to grab a can of Bat-Adhesive String from his utility belt. Another missile slid into place and readied to fire. Clark dove in between the missile and the glider just as Bruce sprayed the canister into the blades of the helicopter, entangling them in a sticky web. The helicopter's engine stalled as it struggled against the adhesive.

Clark grabbed the helicopter just as it released another missile. Bruce banked out of the projectile's path, but it tore into the glider's wing. The engines of the helicopter roared back, tossing the adhesive spray away.

"Don't let them get away!" Bruce shouted, even as he began to lose altitude.

Clark dropped the helicopter and dove toward the shoreline below. He swooped up just underneath Bruce, who was still clinging to the glider as it dragged him down with it.

"Let go," Clark shouted.

Bruce let go and dropped into Clark's arms, and the now passengerless glider crashed unguided into the beach below.

Bruce was still wide-eyed and breathless from the fall as they gently descended, but he managed a smile. "That's another time you've saved me."

"It's the least I could do."

"There must be some way I can thank you." There was a wry tilt to Bruce's smile.

Clark's heart jumped. "You don't have to." It came out softer than he intended.

Clark's boots touched the sand on a quiet beach just outside Gotham City. The Batcopter was still struggling on above in the hands of the trio of thieves. Clark reluctantly let Bruce back onto his feet, but Bruce's hands lingered on his arms.

"I can get the Batcopter before they fly off with it," Clark said. "I'll be right back."

Bruce nodded. "Robin is already in communication with the Commissioner."

"Then I'll take it straight to him."

Before Clark could lift off again, Bruce leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then stepped away.

Clark couldn't help but smile as he blasted off.

Clark grabbed the helicopter out of the sky, its villainous occupants still squabbling among themselves, and dragged it down to the dock, where Dick was already waiting with Commissioner Gordon and a squad of police officers. He was happy to hand it off to them as he raced back to the beach, where Bruce was still waiting, looking out over the ocean, as the sun dipped toward the distant horizon.

Bruce turned as Clark touched down on the sand beside him, and his serious, contemplative expression softened. "Incredible," he murmured.

Clark shook his head. "It's only a fluke of the interaction between Kryptonian physiology and Earth's atmosphere."

The explanation did little to diminish the warmth in Bruce's gaze.

"I may have been sent to Earth to be a symbol of hope, but I don't think I even knew what it meant before I met you," Clark confessed.

"You bring me hope, and I don't mean just of interplanetary collaboration. I almost forgot what it was like to be a man rather than a symbol."

The sky was already darkening as the sun dipped below the horizon, setting the sky aglow. There was no one around.

Clark tentatively reached out and pulled back Bruce's cowl, so that he could see Bruce's face, familiar, but different, his handsome features aglow. A gloved hand settled, featherlight, on Clark's arm in a silent encouragement.

In the instant that Clark faltered, Bruce leaned in, catching Clark's lips with his own, his hands at Clark's neck to pull him closer, at once gentle and eager. The Earth seemed to stop turning on its axis; senses attuned to the entire world closed in on just this singular moment. Clark could feel the pulse of every instant, the brush of even the slightest movement, the immense nearness of the entirety of Bruce's presence.

Even as they pulled away, flushed and breathless, they lingered breathing the same air, their foreheads pressed together, Bruce's hands upon his chest, and Clark found his arms around Bruce's waist, keeping him close.

"We should go," Bruce whispered, "back to the manor."

Clark obliged, sweeping Bruce back into his arms, and they flew off into the painted sky.