I do not own Batman/Bruce Wayne, Superman/Clark Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, or even Fredrick.

I hope DC doesn't mind me doing this. I make no money from it.

Bruce waited on the tarmac. He had his back turned from the plane to keep his concern from becoming "painfully" obvious. Lucius had assumed Bruce must not care about his safety sending only a "reporter" to defend him. Worry now ate at Bruce's stomach for that reporter.

However, he managed not to jump when Clark trotted down the stairs of the plane onto the tarmac again. "Sorry! Afraid I forgot my camera's cleaning supplies out here."

Bruce rolled his eyes. Not the most creative cover, but it would work well enough. He turned back to watch Clark approach him and the case. The Kansan's usual big grin was in place and he walked with his usual long stride. Clark was one of the few Bruce had met who was an inch taller than him.

As Clark leaned down to pick up his "forgotten" case, he whispered, "Not a shimmer of green glow, not a hint of nausea. Though, I 'did' see some weapons hidden on the boys."

Bruce nodded. He kept his face straight as he replied and situated himself behind Clark, so no one on the plane could read his lips. "I never doubted they were armed. Asking to search them and then taking said weapons would aggravate at least some of them. Do you still remember the defensive moves I taught you to disarm someone 'without' bending their knives and gun barrels?"

"Yes … though I may be out of practice. I get a strange satisfaction while bending such things in front of those who try to use them on Metropolisians."

Bruce grit his teeth as he replied, "Resist temptation."

Clark laughed. "I will." He leaned forward and hugged Bruce. "It's so good to see you again, Bruce."

Bruce surrendered by going limp in the reporter's hold. He sighed. "Good to see you too, Clark." He patted the man's back, once, twice, three times and then pushed with both hands against both of Clark's shoulders to signal he was done. Clark released him obediently. As they stood apart, he gave the billionaire a chagrined look.

Bruce leveled a glare at him, but the alien could see it was pretend, mostly. In the Batman voice, he said, "Remember, they were trained by those Waller personally chose to train them, but you were trained by me."

. . .

When Alfred got back from the bar with his friend, he found Madge, now dressed and clean after a shower sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea again. She was now alone. Without speaking a word to each other, both men took off their jackets, hung them on kitchen chairs, and joined her. She stared into space as they did. Fredrick asked, "Well, will this lovely house be losing you to Miss Evelyn's mansion?"

"I think so …"

Fredrick leaned back in his chair, "Why aren't you sure?"

Madge shrugged. "I don't know. I've just never made a lot of decisions that turned out right. I guess I'm not sure I trust myself."

Alfred leaned forward in his own chair and wrapped the table with his knuckles. "Well, the only way to make a new pattern of good decisions is to start it."

Madge gave Alfred a wry side-look. Fredrick chuckled at his old and new friend. Alfred rose from his own chair and began to put his jacket back on. "Now that I've spoken my say on the matter, I will leave you to make said decision on your own and return to my own place of employment. Wayne Manor has seen too little of me of late."

Fredrick grinned at his old comrade's back. "I think it saw too much of you before, mate!"

Madge covered her grin with a hand. Alfred turned back to raise an eyebrow at his friend. Fredrick grinned unrepentedly.

. . .

Clark got on the plane and walked past the young men staring at him. Luke addressed his back. "You're a reporter?"

Clark paused, stuck his hands in his dress-pants pockets, and turned to face the young man with a grin. "Yes, sir."

Luke shrank in his seat. His eyes stared straight ahead of him, but he saw nothing. "Amanda Waller won't like that."

James, sitting next to him, leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. "She doesn't give us orders anymore."

Jude scowled at Clark from his own seat. "Just what are you going to report about us, 'sir?'"

Clark's mouth screwed into a slight frown. He glanced down at the plane's floor and then back up at the young men. "Nothing. Unless you want me to."

Luke sat up and blinked at him. "Nothing?"

Clark met his gaze and shook his head. "Nothing. I try to use only the statements of those who want their stories to be told and observable facts in my reports. Digging up and exposing stories others don't want to be told is more my friend Lois Lane's prerogative."

He gave the boys a wink and then turned and walked toward the cockpit intent on taking the seat next to Lucius Fox. The latter was already at the controls. Jude raised his voice and aimed it at the back of Clark's head. "Why are you on this plane then?"

Clark sat in his seat and leaned back into it as he replied. He didn't turn this time. "To get to the place I'm reporting on of course, and to pump Lucius Fox, and possibly you, on possible sources who 'might' want their stories told."

James raised his eyebrows and muttered. "That's a 'lot' of uncertainty."

Jude continued to glare at the back of Clark's head. "Why did Bruce Wayne want you on this plane?"

"To report on how things are going where this plane is going."

"Why?"

"Because he wants people to know."

"Why?"

"Because he wants people to know things can get better."

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes