Bruce was upset. The stack of recovered creds sat on
his desk, the giant mahogany one brought from the Manor. Ace's head rested
on his thigh, and
Bruce absently scratched the big dog's ears. He wondered if the Batman would have a place in this community - certainly, as long as people were involved, there would be greed, and the temptation to commit crime; and he was fortunate enough to have the mental and physical power to make a difference. In fact, he could use Ms. Homicide Lane - he grinned at the nickname - to root out information, and perhaps she would enjoy the excitement, a break from the monotony of growing old.
But this is what we came here to escape from, he protested, This is perhaps our last chance to be normal. It had been five days since he moved into the Heritage Pines - and rejoined society - and he was already failing at being "normal". He put his hands over his face and groaned.
++++++++++++++++++++
The quiet chatter in the dining hall dropped to a hush when he entered. He wasn't sure whether to be completely embarrassed, or pleased with the result. He continued, walking to an empty table for two.
Bruce changed his look radically, a look he had held for the vast majority of his life. Here he was, sitting with a vague smile on his face. He wore a short-sleeved shirt with white and sky blue stripes, light khaki slacks, and white loafers. For good measure, he rubbed some Flex-All into his back, and wore Old Spice instead of his usual scent. From the corner of his eye, he could tell the women were still talking about him, but instead of the excited, giddy tones, they sounded more confused and disgusted.
"Oh God," Lois gasped from across the room, then broke into a raucous laugh. He shot her a look that could only mean shut up. Actually, he realized how much he missed the way her eyes twinkled when she was amused. She put a hand over her mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile.
"Hey, Lois," he greeted lightly. "Let me tell you about my sciatica..." She sat down opposite him, and lowered her voice.
"OK, sorry about that," she said with one last giggle, "but your get-up is just - well, such a surprise. And you smell just like my grandfather!" She paused to read the menu. Filet of sole, rice pilaf and steamed vegetables. "Oh, and thank you for the apology flowers," Bruce allowed himself a small smile.
"Oh, those weren't apology flowers," he lied. "It's just been really nice having you here with me. You know, I don't think I would have lasted this long here without you." Lois leaned forward. Bruce leaned in as well.
"You know, Bruce, with the flowers and all, you're going to start a huge rumour that I'm sleeping with you."
'Only a rumour?' Was what sprung to his mind, strangely it was in Selina's voice.
'And we couldn't have that, how improper.' Was the second thing, said in Barbara's voice.
'Oh God you are so desperate.' Why on earth was Dick, of all people, giving him relationship advice?
"You should watch out." Bruce said darkly. "The other women will attack."
"Not if you keep dressing like that." Lois replied primly. She watched him, her eyes darting over his shoulders and chest before settling on his face again. "You know," she began speculatively. "You've aged well."
"I think that's a compliment." Bruce began, as if talking about a piece of art. "But judging by the delivery and tone I would say there was hidden bite."
"Homicide Lane." Was Lois's reply. "I'll have the Sole."
++++++++++++++++++++++
Bruce and Lois walked their dogs, tactfully avoided tango lessons and downloaded a new book each from the library. Then they were in the hallways, just about to part ways and head for separate rooms. A nurse walked past, eyeing them suspiciously. She found something to do in a nearby linen closet, ready to intervene if the children were to be naughty.
"I . . . guess I'll see you tomorrow." Lois said, wincing internally. Bruce nodded, clearly uncomfortable.
"Sweet dreams." He said. Lois didn't look happy at that comment, if Bruce only knew the images that were conjured in her mind at those words. Images of someone human, not alien - who had all the flaws and perks of someone human, not alien.
The nurse watched them part, suitably satisfied that the old fogies were up to nothing icky. There was nothing worse than walking in on two old wrinklies.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
The morning dawned on Bruce in a light green polo shirt and beige khaki's. Ace gave him the most truly sceptical look as he stepped out into the living area.
"Oh shut up." Bruce muttered. Ace whined demurely, standing and padding over to the window, sitting and watching the world pass him by. His haughtily held spine spoke volumes to Bruce. Of course, he would not be pacified by anything asides from an extremely long walk and a good game of tug an war.
So Bruce was late, even for him, for breakfast.
"Morning." Lois said dryly, sipping her fourth cup of coffee and trying to pretend it was still her first. She hadn't waited in the half deserted restaurant for him. She hadn't endlessly thought up excuses, both for his lateness and her dallying. Most especially, she did not smile when he entered the room, however hastily hidden it may have been.
Bruce grunted, sitting down and ordering a lightly toasted grapefruit. Lois glowered, here she was, practically insane with the agony of waiting for him and now he was all 'I'm-an-ex-superhero-don't-talk-to-me'. This was the exact kind of attitude Clark had given her. Pig headed, grossly over confident, I know more than you do-
"Is something wrong?" The greatest detective asked as he noticed a thundercloud gather above Lois's head. The cloud broke and lightning struck out at Bruce.
"Something wrong! Do you know what day it is today?" She demanded. Bruce had to shake his head, Batman wanted to run.
"The second Saturday of the month!" She shouted. All that was running through Bruce's head was anniversary, anniversary, anniversary. But he was positive they had nothing to anniversary about so he was drawing a blank.
"The Day of Visits!" Lois explained aggravatedly. "Today all the families come and talk and bequeath gifts and sticky children and walks and Clark and bloody angsting teenagers and-"
"Clark is coming?" Bruce asked quietly. Lois broke off. She stared into her coffee cup resentfully.
"I got his call last night." She admitted eventually. Bruce nodded.
"You told me you were divorced."
"We are." She groaned. "He just wants 'to talk'. To 'be friends'. To 'try and see how things work out'." Her fingers massaged her temples gently, Bruce was possessed by a Batman like desire to solve all her problems. He leaned forward, trying to be friendly.
"Maybe this is a good thing."
"And maybe this is barking up the same old tree with the same old words and the same old tired tune." Lois said slowly. For the first time, she looked old. Truly old. Her skin was pale and taught over bones that were too frail to take much of a beating. It scared Bruce.
"I'm sorry Bruce." She said, sniffing a little. "But when Clark . . ." She broke off, trying to think of how to say this. She realized now that waiting had been a mistake. "When he's here - you can't."
"Sorry?" Bruce asked, confused as to why she had stopped her sentence half way through.
"When Clark is here. When my ex-husband is here my ex-boyfriend cannot be hanging around. I can't talk to you today damn it Bruce." She stood and left, leaving Bruce to contemplate the Supercouple and their problems. He wondered about any Batcouples. They were always more fiery, more gallivanting around the cave and far, far more break ups. Somehow, the ending of the Supercouple didn't make him feel any better about his own relationships. Just sad for Lois.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Clark Kent looked very good for his age. In fact, a young red-headed woman with an overworked looking husband a young son and a toddler eyed him up as he passed.
But Clark didn't notice. Clark never noticed. To him vanity was something completely alien - after all, where he came from he was run of the mill. He signed in at the reception desk and answered the nurse's question about the bouquet of flowers.
"An olive branch." He said.
"Yuck! Olives!" Shouted the little boy by the red-headed woman's side. His mother shushed him and he began singing loudly. Clark smiled benevolently, crouching down.
"Don't you like olives?" He asked the kid, thinking that it must be boring for the kid. The little boy got a curious, blank look in his eyes and started to look around the room. The red-headed woman jerked his arm sharply.
"Terrance! Warren! McGinnis!" She all but shrieked. "I have told you time and again - I am sorry sir." She broke off half way through to apologize to Clark. "My son likes to pretend he's deaf. I don't know where he got it from."
"Oh leave the boy Mary." Her husband said, ever weary. "He's just a kid."
"It's hardly a nice thing to do." Mary snapped back.
"For heavens sake Mary we are trying to have a nice family day out." The husband pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry ma'am." Clark reassured Mary. "When my daughter was young she loved to cause trouble, always trying to fly when we were out in town." He smiled at Mary who gave a half hearted smile in return. She jerked her son down the corridor, her husband and toddler following sedately. Clark smiled, happy that he had reassured the woman, and followed the receptionists directions for Lois's rooms.
+++++++++++++++++++
Mary reached the rooms of her husband great-aunt Florence and prepared herself for the monthly agony of trying to make the boys behave. Florence would stare at Mary's calves the whole time, completely disapproving of Mary's below the knee skirt, then say loudly how she thought society was going downhill. Her poor, poor Warren - forced to co-habit with this unwashed creature of the Gotham night. Because Mary didn't really think of herself as married anymore.
For a wonder, Terry was quiet, playing with little Matt on the patio, their good behaviour allowed Mary to slip into a dream world where she could fulfil her dream of finally being single again.
Terry was quiet because Terry was sneaking off. It was a new trick he'd learned. If he was quiet his parents would ignore him, grateful for the respite and he could sneak off.
Today he walked through the sunny grounds, looking for something to do. He found it in the shape of a big Dalmatian. The dogs brown eyes bored into Terry's bright blue ones, trying to decide whether he was food or a toy.
Tinsel decided on the latter and Terry was to forever remain afraid of Dalmatians.
+++++++++++++++++++
"Clark." Lois began half heartedly, waving the flowers a little limply in her hands.
"Shall I get a vase?" Clark asked quickly. Lois sighed.
"Clark this won't work." She said, shutting her eyes as Clark stood, agitated. He paced the floor, his muscles tense.
"A vase could work." He told her defensively, trying to retreat to common ground. Lois practically whimpered.
"A vase won't hold us together. Clark - we're over." She tried to stress the last words but they came out a whisper. Clark, however, suddenly stood to attention.
"The kid." He said suddenly, in complete superhero mode. Lois's eyes snapped to the gardens. She'd left the patio doors open in the heat and Tinsel was playing with something in the duck pond.
"Oh no . . ." She moaned.
Clark reached the duck pond long before Bruce. Ace, who had been bounding ahead, drew up short and returned to Bruce's side. The Batman and the Batdog watched from the sides as Clark rescued the boy and took him inside to Lois's room.
"Probably best." Bruce muttered. He couldn't help think though, that Clark hadn't checked to see if the boys airway was clear before moving. He hesitated for a moment, really - he knew Clark was capable of looking after the boy but . . .
Just in case. Bats murmured and Bruce and Ace headed forward.
"Are you okay kid?" Clark asked, lying the sodden little boy gingerly on the sofa. Lois groaned.
"Hey kid, I'm sorry - the mutt slipped outside before I could stop her." She said. The little boy coughed a little and looked between them, wondering how he was going to get out of this one. "Anyway, where's your parents?" Lois asked.
"Yes, where's your mommy, Terrance Warren?" Clark asked. The little boy screwed up his face at the use of his full name.
"Don't have one." He lied, then began singing. Lois grabbed his shoulder.
"Terr!" She shouted. The kid looked up at her resentfully.
"Where's your mother." She demanded, the little kid looked at his shoes.
"With Great great aunty Florence." He muttered.
"The kid must mean old Nagerator-Florence." Bruce said from the patio doors. Lois nodded, wishing he hadn't chosen to show up just then.
"Bruce?" Clark exclaimed.
"Clark!" Bruce was as surprised as any old man who has just found one of his best friends lurking around. "Clark Kent - great to see you."
"Nagerator-Florence?" Terry asked, he chuckled harshly. "I like it." Bruce looked at the kid, strangely taken-aback by the child's chuckle.
"Come on kiddo - let's take you back." He said, trying to be cheery though he really didn't feel it. Clark clapped a hand on Bruce's shoulder, nearly sending him flying.
"Yeah - let's do that Bruce." He grinned and elbowed Bruce in the ribs. "Like old times, huh?"
"You're freaky man." Terry said, leaping off the sofa and darting past them. Lois grimaced, trying to restrain Tinsel.
"Go after the kid!" She shouted.
Clark and Bruce both went forward, Clark speeding like a bullet somewhat slowed from time, Bruce drew back, realizing that speed wouldn't win this. He needed a grappling hook or a lined batarang or a . . .
"Ace!" He shouted. "Fetch!"
Obediently Ace sprung forward, getting past Clark (who couldn't show off his Superman powers in a place like this). The big doberman cross screeched to a stop in front of Terry, growling. The dog started to herd the young child back, only to be intercepted by Clark. The man of steel lifted Terry from the ground.
"Listen young man." He said. "You have got to re-think your attitude! Think of all the worry you'll have caused your mother-"
"Clark." Bruce interrupted softly, easing the boy out of Clark's hands. Now Bruce held Terry an inch off the ground. "I'll go return the kid to his mother." He said calmly, turning and walking away.
"That's right." Clark muttered darkly. "Steal all the glory."
"Excuse me?" Bruce asked, turning around. Clark glared at him.
"The glory, the women, the sexy colours - it was always you." Clark whined, flinging his hands in the air. Bruce felt his fist clenching.
"Coming from oh-look-at-me-I'm-made-of-steel this is kind of rich." Bruce replied. Lois approached cautiously from the sides, hanging well back with Tinsel and Ace. She sent an apologetic look to the terrified kid, still dangling from Bruce's grasp.
"And it was always the same - I'd say - let's do this!" Clark began, leaning forward. "Then you'd say noooooooo - let's do this! And that's always what we did!"
"I was the thinker Clark - that was my job!" Bruce retorted. "Just because you're not a strategists you can't blame me!"
"And did I mention the women!" Clark added. "Every time some gorgeous alien came to the control room it was always you! And let's not get started on the Cat!"
"Hey!" Bruce practically roared. "You had a poster of my girlfriend in your locker!"
"So she was your girlfriend!" Clark crowed, punching the air victoriously. "I knew it! Besides - everyone had a poster of her in their locker, it was requisite right their beside that pic of Batgirl-"
"You preyed on my associates!"
"On you line of endless girlfriends! And now you steal my wife-"
The punch was totally unexpected and it cut the Kryptonite right off. He was ready to hit Bruce back, but it was Lois that was shaking her fist.
"You had pictures of Catwoman in your locker!" She hissed. Clark held his hands up quickly.
"Flash pinned it up, I swear Lois . . . I just . . . neglected . . . to remove it."
"You can fry in Hell for all I care Clark. I am not your wife anymore." She turned on her heel and stalked off. Clark turned on Bruce, his fury bubbling over - but he was gone.
++++++++++++++++++++
Bruce took a leaf from the book of any henchman and escaped at the earliest opportunity. Now he was practically dragging the kid through the corridors of Heritage Pines and casting the occasional glance over his shoulder.
He dropped the kid outside of Florence's door and knocked politely. The young and frustrated looking woman that answered swept down on Terry in a mixture of complete relief and overwhelming anger. The relief won out and she kissed her son on the forehead.
"Oh thank you mister . . . ?" She began.
"Wayne." Bruce supplied with a pleasant smile. "Bruce Wayne." He saw her expression change and she composed herself quickly.
"Oh Mr Wayne - it's a pleasure. I am so sorry if my son caused you any trouble."
"Hey mister!" Terry tugged on Bruce's hand impertinently. "If it had been a fight between you and the big guy I think you'd have won." He said, then he looked every serious indeed. "But the lady could have whooped your ass."
"Terrance!" Mrs McGinnis looked shocked. Bruce smiled and leaned down.
"The lady's can always kick your ass. Remember that kid." He nodded politely to Mrs McGinnis and walked off.
He felt like skipping as he walked down the corridor - he was effused with energy because of this one good deed. He missed good deeds.
+++++++++++++++++++++
That evening a black shadow slipped into the various rooms and returned the recovered creds. They were anonymous - no note from your friendly residential Batman - just your creds.
He hesitated a little before sneaking into Lois's room, for some reason it was more of an invasion of privacy for her.
He would give the creds to her tomorrow at breakfast and ask what happened afterwards with Clark.
Bruce absently scratched the big dog's ears. He wondered if the Batman would have a place in this community - certainly, as long as people were involved, there would be greed, and the temptation to commit crime; and he was fortunate enough to have the mental and physical power to make a difference. In fact, he could use Ms. Homicide Lane - he grinned at the nickname - to root out information, and perhaps she would enjoy the excitement, a break from the monotony of growing old.
But this is what we came here to escape from, he protested, This is perhaps our last chance to be normal. It had been five days since he moved into the Heritage Pines - and rejoined society - and he was already failing at being "normal". He put his hands over his face and groaned.
++++++++++++++++++++
The quiet chatter in the dining hall dropped to a hush when he entered. He wasn't sure whether to be completely embarrassed, or pleased with the result. He continued, walking to an empty table for two.
Bruce changed his look radically, a look he had held for the vast majority of his life. Here he was, sitting with a vague smile on his face. He wore a short-sleeved shirt with white and sky blue stripes, light khaki slacks, and white loafers. For good measure, he rubbed some Flex-All into his back, and wore Old Spice instead of his usual scent. From the corner of his eye, he could tell the women were still talking about him, but instead of the excited, giddy tones, they sounded more confused and disgusted.
"Oh God," Lois gasped from across the room, then broke into a raucous laugh. He shot her a look that could only mean shut up. Actually, he realized how much he missed the way her eyes twinkled when she was amused. She put a hand over her mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile.
"Hey, Lois," he greeted lightly. "Let me tell you about my sciatica..." She sat down opposite him, and lowered her voice.
"OK, sorry about that," she said with one last giggle, "but your get-up is just - well, such a surprise. And you smell just like my grandfather!" She paused to read the menu. Filet of sole, rice pilaf and steamed vegetables. "Oh, and thank you for the apology flowers," Bruce allowed himself a small smile.
"Oh, those weren't apology flowers," he lied. "It's just been really nice having you here with me. You know, I don't think I would have lasted this long here without you." Lois leaned forward. Bruce leaned in as well.
"You know, Bruce, with the flowers and all, you're going to start a huge rumour that I'm sleeping with you."
'Only a rumour?' Was what sprung to his mind, strangely it was in Selina's voice.
'And we couldn't have that, how improper.' Was the second thing, said in Barbara's voice.
'Oh God you are so desperate.' Why on earth was Dick, of all people, giving him relationship advice?
"You should watch out." Bruce said darkly. "The other women will attack."
"Not if you keep dressing like that." Lois replied primly. She watched him, her eyes darting over his shoulders and chest before settling on his face again. "You know," she began speculatively. "You've aged well."
"I think that's a compliment." Bruce began, as if talking about a piece of art. "But judging by the delivery and tone I would say there was hidden bite."
"Homicide Lane." Was Lois's reply. "I'll have the Sole."
++++++++++++++++++++++
Bruce and Lois walked their dogs, tactfully avoided tango lessons and downloaded a new book each from the library. Then they were in the hallways, just about to part ways and head for separate rooms. A nurse walked past, eyeing them suspiciously. She found something to do in a nearby linen closet, ready to intervene if the children were to be naughty.
"I . . . guess I'll see you tomorrow." Lois said, wincing internally. Bruce nodded, clearly uncomfortable.
"Sweet dreams." He said. Lois didn't look happy at that comment, if Bruce only knew the images that were conjured in her mind at those words. Images of someone human, not alien - who had all the flaws and perks of someone human, not alien.
The nurse watched them part, suitably satisfied that the old fogies were up to nothing icky. There was nothing worse than walking in on two old wrinklies.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
The morning dawned on Bruce in a light green polo shirt and beige khaki's. Ace gave him the most truly sceptical look as he stepped out into the living area.
"Oh shut up." Bruce muttered. Ace whined demurely, standing and padding over to the window, sitting and watching the world pass him by. His haughtily held spine spoke volumes to Bruce. Of course, he would not be pacified by anything asides from an extremely long walk and a good game of tug an war.
So Bruce was late, even for him, for breakfast.
"Morning." Lois said dryly, sipping her fourth cup of coffee and trying to pretend it was still her first. She hadn't waited in the half deserted restaurant for him. She hadn't endlessly thought up excuses, both for his lateness and her dallying. Most especially, she did not smile when he entered the room, however hastily hidden it may have been.
Bruce grunted, sitting down and ordering a lightly toasted grapefruit. Lois glowered, here she was, practically insane with the agony of waiting for him and now he was all 'I'm-an-ex-superhero-don't-talk-to-me'. This was the exact kind of attitude Clark had given her. Pig headed, grossly over confident, I know more than you do-
"Is something wrong?" The greatest detective asked as he noticed a thundercloud gather above Lois's head. The cloud broke and lightning struck out at Bruce.
"Something wrong! Do you know what day it is today?" She demanded. Bruce had to shake his head, Batman wanted to run.
"The second Saturday of the month!" She shouted. All that was running through Bruce's head was anniversary, anniversary, anniversary. But he was positive they had nothing to anniversary about so he was drawing a blank.
"The Day of Visits!" Lois explained aggravatedly. "Today all the families come and talk and bequeath gifts and sticky children and walks and Clark and bloody angsting teenagers and-"
"Clark is coming?" Bruce asked quietly. Lois broke off. She stared into her coffee cup resentfully.
"I got his call last night." She admitted eventually. Bruce nodded.
"You told me you were divorced."
"We are." She groaned. "He just wants 'to talk'. To 'be friends'. To 'try and see how things work out'." Her fingers massaged her temples gently, Bruce was possessed by a Batman like desire to solve all her problems. He leaned forward, trying to be friendly.
"Maybe this is a good thing."
"And maybe this is barking up the same old tree with the same old words and the same old tired tune." Lois said slowly. For the first time, she looked old. Truly old. Her skin was pale and taught over bones that were too frail to take much of a beating. It scared Bruce.
"I'm sorry Bruce." She said, sniffing a little. "But when Clark . . ." She broke off, trying to think of how to say this. She realized now that waiting had been a mistake. "When he's here - you can't."
"Sorry?" Bruce asked, confused as to why she had stopped her sentence half way through.
"When Clark is here. When my ex-husband is here my ex-boyfriend cannot be hanging around. I can't talk to you today damn it Bruce." She stood and left, leaving Bruce to contemplate the Supercouple and their problems. He wondered about any Batcouples. They were always more fiery, more gallivanting around the cave and far, far more break ups. Somehow, the ending of the Supercouple didn't make him feel any better about his own relationships. Just sad for Lois.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Clark Kent looked very good for his age. In fact, a young red-headed woman with an overworked looking husband a young son and a toddler eyed him up as he passed.
But Clark didn't notice. Clark never noticed. To him vanity was something completely alien - after all, where he came from he was run of the mill. He signed in at the reception desk and answered the nurse's question about the bouquet of flowers.
"An olive branch." He said.
"Yuck! Olives!" Shouted the little boy by the red-headed woman's side. His mother shushed him and he began singing loudly. Clark smiled benevolently, crouching down.
"Don't you like olives?" He asked the kid, thinking that it must be boring for the kid. The little boy got a curious, blank look in his eyes and started to look around the room. The red-headed woman jerked his arm sharply.
"Terrance! Warren! McGinnis!" She all but shrieked. "I have told you time and again - I am sorry sir." She broke off half way through to apologize to Clark. "My son likes to pretend he's deaf. I don't know where he got it from."
"Oh leave the boy Mary." Her husband said, ever weary. "He's just a kid."
"It's hardly a nice thing to do." Mary snapped back.
"For heavens sake Mary we are trying to have a nice family day out." The husband pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry ma'am." Clark reassured Mary. "When my daughter was young she loved to cause trouble, always trying to fly when we were out in town." He smiled at Mary who gave a half hearted smile in return. She jerked her son down the corridor, her husband and toddler following sedately. Clark smiled, happy that he had reassured the woman, and followed the receptionists directions for Lois's rooms.
+++++++++++++++++++
Mary reached the rooms of her husband great-aunt Florence and prepared herself for the monthly agony of trying to make the boys behave. Florence would stare at Mary's calves the whole time, completely disapproving of Mary's below the knee skirt, then say loudly how she thought society was going downhill. Her poor, poor Warren - forced to co-habit with this unwashed creature of the Gotham night. Because Mary didn't really think of herself as married anymore.
For a wonder, Terry was quiet, playing with little Matt on the patio, their good behaviour allowed Mary to slip into a dream world where she could fulfil her dream of finally being single again.
Terry was quiet because Terry was sneaking off. It was a new trick he'd learned. If he was quiet his parents would ignore him, grateful for the respite and he could sneak off.
Today he walked through the sunny grounds, looking for something to do. He found it in the shape of a big Dalmatian. The dogs brown eyes bored into Terry's bright blue ones, trying to decide whether he was food or a toy.
Tinsel decided on the latter and Terry was to forever remain afraid of Dalmatians.
+++++++++++++++++++
"Clark." Lois began half heartedly, waving the flowers a little limply in her hands.
"Shall I get a vase?" Clark asked quickly. Lois sighed.
"Clark this won't work." She said, shutting her eyes as Clark stood, agitated. He paced the floor, his muscles tense.
"A vase could work." He told her defensively, trying to retreat to common ground. Lois practically whimpered.
"A vase won't hold us together. Clark - we're over." She tried to stress the last words but they came out a whisper. Clark, however, suddenly stood to attention.
"The kid." He said suddenly, in complete superhero mode. Lois's eyes snapped to the gardens. She'd left the patio doors open in the heat and Tinsel was playing with something in the duck pond.
"Oh no . . ." She moaned.
Clark reached the duck pond long before Bruce. Ace, who had been bounding ahead, drew up short and returned to Bruce's side. The Batman and the Batdog watched from the sides as Clark rescued the boy and took him inside to Lois's room.
"Probably best." Bruce muttered. He couldn't help think though, that Clark hadn't checked to see if the boys airway was clear before moving. He hesitated for a moment, really - he knew Clark was capable of looking after the boy but . . .
Just in case. Bats murmured and Bruce and Ace headed forward.
"Are you okay kid?" Clark asked, lying the sodden little boy gingerly on the sofa. Lois groaned.
"Hey kid, I'm sorry - the mutt slipped outside before I could stop her." She said. The little boy coughed a little and looked between them, wondering how he was going to get out of this one. "Anyway, where's your parents?" Lois asked.
"Yes, where's your mommy, Terrance Warren?" Clark asked. The little boy screwed up his face at the use of his full name.
"Don't have one." He lied, then began singing. Lois grabbed his shoulder.
"Terr!" She shouted. The kid looked up at her resentfully.
"Where's your mother." She demanded, the little kid looked at his shoes.
"With Great great aunty Florence." He muttered.
"The kid must mean old Nagerator-Florence." Bruce said from the patio doors. Lois nodded, wishing he hadn't chosen to show up just then.
"Bruce?" Clark exclaimed.
"Clark!" Bruce was as surprised as any old man who has just found one of his best friends lurking around. "Clark Kent - great to see you."
"Nagerator-Florence?" Terry asked, he chuckled harshly. "I like it." Bruce looked at the kid, strangely taken-aback by the child's chuckle.
"Come on kiddo - let's take you back." He said, trying to be cheery though he really didn't feel it. Clark clapped a hand on Bruce's shoulder, nearly sending him flying.
"Yeah - let's do that Bruce." He grinned and elbowed Bruce in the ribs. "Like old times, huh?"
"You're freaky man." Terry said, leaping off the sofa and darting past them. Lois grimaced, trying to restrain Tinsel.
"Go after the kid!" She shouted.
Clark and Bruce both went forward, Clark speeding like a bullet somewhat slowed from time, Bruce drew back, realizing that speed wouldn't win this. He needed a grappling hook or a lined batarang or a . . .
"Ace!" He shouted. "Fetch!"
Obediently Ace sprung forward, getting past Clark (who couldn't show off his Superman powers in a place like this). The big doberman cross screeched to a stop in front of Terry, growling. The dog started to herd the young child back, only to be intercepted by Clark. The man of steel lifted Terry from the ground.
"Listen young man." He said. "You have got to re-think your attitude! Think of all the worry you'll have caused your mother-"
"Clark." Bruce interrupted softly, easing the boy out of Clark's hands. Now Bruce held Terry an inch off the ground. "I'll go return the kid to his mother." He said calmly, turning and walking away.
"That's right." Clark muttered darkly. "Steal all the glory."
"Excuse me?" Bruce asked, turning around. Clark glared at him.
"The glory, the women, the sexy colours - it was always you." Clark whined, flinging his hands in the air. Bruce felt his fist clenching.
"Coming from oh-look-at-me-I'm-made-of-steel this is kind of rich." Bruce replied. Lois approached cautiously from the sides, hanging well back with Tinsel and Ace. She sent an apologetic look to the terrified kid, still dangling from Bruce's grasp.
"And it was always the same - I'd say - let's do this!" Clark began, leaning forward. "Then you'd say noooooooo - let's do this! And that's always what we did!"
"I was the thinker Clark - that was my job!" Bruce retorted. "Just because you're not a strategists you can't blame me!"
"And did I mention the women!" Clark added. "Every time some gorgeous alien came to the control room it was always you! And let's not get started on the Cat!"
"Hey!" Bruce practically roared. "You had a poster of my girlfriend in your locker!"
"So she was your girlfriend!" Clark crowed, punching the air victoriously. "I knew it! Besides - everyone had a poster of her in their locker, it was requisite right their beside that pic of Batgirl-"
"You preyed on my associates!"
"On you line of endless girlfriends! And now you steal my wife-"
The punch was totally unexpected and it cut the Kryptonite right off. He was ready to hit Bruce back, but it was Lois that was shaking her fist.
"You had pictures of Catwoman in your locker!" She hissed. Clark held his hands up quickly.
"Flash pinned it up, I swear Lois . . . I just . . . neglected . . . to remove it."
"You can fry in Hell for all I care Clark. I am not your wife anymore." She turned on her heel and stalked off. Clark turned on Bruce, his fury bubbling over - but he was gone.
++++++++++++++++++++
Bruce took a leaf from the book of any henchman and escaped at the earliest opportunity. Now he was practically dragging the kid through the corridors of Heritage Pines and casting the occasional glance over his shoulder.
He dropped the kid outside of Florence's door and knocked politely. The young and frustrated looking woman that answered swept down on Terry in a mixture of complete relief and overwhelming anger. The relief won out and she kissed her son on the forehead.
"Oh thank you mister . . . ?" She began.
"Wayne." Bruce supplied with a pleasant smile. "Bruce Wayne." He saw her expression change and she composed herself quickly.
"Oh Mr Wayne - it's a pleasure. I am so sorry if my son caused you any trouble."
"Hey mister!" Terry tugged on Bruce's hand impertinently. "If it had been a fight between you and the big guy I think you'd have won." He said, then he looked every serious indeed. "But the lady could have whooped your ass."
"Terrance!" Mrs McGinnis looked shocked. Bruce smiled and leaned down.
"The lady's can always kick your ass. Remember that kid." He nodded politely to Mrs McGinnis and walked off.
He felt like skipping as he walked down the corridor - he was effused with energy because of this one good deed. He missed good deeds.
+++++++++++++++++++++
That evening a black shadow slipped into the various rooms and returned the recovered creds. They were anonymous - no note from your friendly residential Batman - just your creds.
He hesitated a little before sneaking into Lois's room, for some reason it was more of an invasion of privacy for her.
He would give the creds to her tomorrow at breakfast and ask what happened afterwards with Clark.