Bruce was sitting in his office working and having a relatively quiet day until he had a visitor in the middle of the afternoon.
"Mr. Wayne, someone is here to see you," buzzed a woman's voice from the intercom.
"Who is it, Zoe?" Bruce Wayne answered back.
"A Mr. Clark Kent, sir."
"Send him in," Bruce said, while he thought to himself, "Just what I need, super-meddling."
Clark Kent walked into Bruce's office and took a seat.
"Can I help you?" asked Bruce.
"Hello Bruce. Long time, no see. How are you?"
"Fine."
"There's that word again."
"Don't you have a story you need to be covering?"
"Nope."
"You're telling me there isn't one story in Metropolis that needs your attention?"
"Nope, not a one; but there is a friend in Gotham City who could use it, my attention that is."
"Well, tell you're friend I hope he or she feels better."
"Bruce."
"What?"
"Can I take you take you to lunch, or better yet, you could take me. You're the billionaire, after all."
"I'm very busy."
"You have to eat some time, and I'm not taking no for an answer."
"I gathered that. Fine, we can go to lunch. Be back here in an hour."
"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" asked Clark.
"I don't know. You should have thought ahead, now get out."
"I love talking with you Bruce. You're always so sweet and polite. I'll see you in an hour." said Clark as he exited Bruce's office.
Bruce sighed. Maybe when Clark came back he could have him locked out of the building. No, he would just eat with Clark and hopefully get him to stop pestering him.
For lunch, Bruce and Clark dined at Pequeet, a nice soup, salad, and sandwich place built with a bakery in it. Pequeet was known for its bread. It smelled so good that Clark bought some rolls and a cookie on his way out. During their lunch, Clark made his best attempt to get Bruce to open up.
"I'm glad you agreed to eat with me," said Clark.
"I'm not paying for this," said Bruce.
Clark smiled and said, "That's fine. Do you have lunch here often?"
"Often enough."
"Well it's nice. I like it."
"I'm thrilled."
"There's no need for sarcasm, Bruce," said Clark, but Bruce Wayne said nothing. "Does pequeet mean anything?" asked Clark.
"What do you mean?"
"The word. Pequeet. Does it mean anything? Like in a foreign language?"
"I don't think so."
"Oh. It sounds like it should, mean something I mean. Or it sounds like something a canary would say. Pequeet. Pequeet."
"Was that you're canary impression?"
"Yes, would you like to hear me do Woody Woodpecker?"
"I'll pass."
"So Bruce, it feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. Where have you been?"
"Here, in Gotham."
"Have you been busy?"
"No."
"Are you taking a vacation? 'Cause there's nothing wrong with that if you feel you need to . . ."
"I'm not on a vacation," said Bruce and there was a pause in the conversation. Clark did not know what to say, but he wanted to keep communication between he and Bruce open. He decided to change the subject temporarily.
"How are your ribs?" asked Clark.
"Better."
"That's good. I was worried."
"There was nothing to worry about."
"I know, but still . . . we're friends. I worry."
"Hmmm."
"You know Bruce, I mean it when I say I worry about you. You seem so closed off all the time . . . so shut down. And lately I feel like . . . like you're slipping away."
"Slipping away?"
"Yeah, I don't want to lose you as a friend."
"That's a nice sentiment, Clark."
"I'm glad you think so, although I get the impression that you didn't mean that as a compliment."
"I'm fine, Clark. You don't have to worry about me."
"You keep saying that, but why aren't you acting fine?"
"What would you have me do, Clark?"
"I would like to see you smile once in a while, maybe even laugh."
"Hmm. Are you done?"
"Huh?"
"Are you done?"
"Oh," Clark said then looked at his plate, "I guess I am."
"Good," said Bruce as he pulled out his wallet.
"I thought you weren't paying for this?" said Clark.
"Force of habit," said Bruce as he put down enough money for his and Clark's meals. Bruce began putting on his coat, so Clark did the same. Clark couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He was glad that he got Bruce to go to lunch with him, but he wanted to find a way to help Bruce, and Clark still didn't know what was even bothering him.
Bruce and Clark's goodbye was brief, much to Clark's chagrin. Clark was disappointed. Try as he might he could not get through Bruce's defenses. "I guess decades of building them has made them super strong." Clark said to himself. However, neither Clark Kent, the award-winning investigative reporter, nor Superman, arguably the world's greatest superhero, would give up that easily.