I do not own, Clark Kent, the Daily Planet, Lucius Fox, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne/Batman. I did create Sam and Evie!

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Lucius spoke next. "How long have you known Mr. Wayne?"

Clark glanced at him and blinked. "Mr. Wayne?"

Lucius frowned. He really should be getting this bird in the air, but his reservations about this trip hadn't disappeared. If anything, the oddness of the interactions between his employer and this reporter had made him more uneasy. "My employer."

"Ooooohhh … 'Bruce!' Sorry, I never thought of him as 'Mr. Wayne.' Except when he comes up at work among my fellow reporters now and then."

Lucius turned his head to stare at the reporter. His tone grew hard. "He still comes up in conversations at the 'Daily Planet?'"

Clark gave Lucius a slight smirk and fully-raised eyebrow. "Missing Billionaire's son, prince of Gotham, unseen by the public for nearly a decade? Yes, he comes up at the 'Daily Planet' sometimes."

Now Lucius raised an eyebrow back at Clark. A dry humor came into his voice. "But 'you' have seen him during that time, and you have never mentioned it to them reporter?"

Clark's smirk disappeared. His blue eyes stared steadily into dark brown. "I would never betray Bruce's secrets, much as I believe in 'the freedom of the press' and like all my colleagues at work. Not even Lois could dig that out of me if she tried. None of them have even tried." Clark's voice lowered and softened. "None of them know that 'I' know Bruce."

Jude's voice echoed up from behind them. "Why do you keep Mr. Wayne's secrets?"

Clark turned in his seat to meet the boy's gaze. He grinned at him. "Because he is my friend."

The teen sniffed. Lucius broke in next with a touch of bitterness in his own soft voice. "'I' didn't know you knew Bruce."

Clark looked to his pilot with both eyebrows raised. "That surprises you?"

Lucius huffed a sigh as began going through "before take-off" procedures at last. "I thought I knew him almost as well as Alfred and Les ..."

"You do. They don't know about my friendship with him either."

Lucius froze and stared at Clark. A snarling voice came from behind the men. "How many secrets does Mr. Wayne have?"

Clark tipped his face up until his head leaned backwards over his head rest, which was really too short to be a proper head-rest for him anyway. He grinned at the teen. "Neighbor, you and I will never know."

"I am 'not' your neighbor."

Clark shrugged before straightening his head again to look forward. "Everyone in close quarters to you is your neighbor. As long as we're on this plane together, we're neighbors, for fourteen hours or would be my guess."

Lucius muttered to himself while leaning over the controls again. "Which means, I've got to get this flight started."

. . .

Bruce watched the plane take off with his arms crossed over his chest. He sighed. They were off. He hoped Clark, with his positive personality and endless supply of small-town small talk, could keep the peace for the whole flight without revealing his own secrets or his friend's.

Clark seemed to have done so up to this point, and that had continually shocked Bruce. He'd always feared the friendly alien would never learn to stop asking questions and revealing more than he meant to in encounters with skilled secret diggers, the curious, or even silent types like him who seemed to make chatterers even more chatty.

Bruce shook his head and began to head to his car. He'd made as many preparations as he could and there was little control he had over things in the plane now. Meanwhile, there was someone he had to see today, or she would give him an earful whenever they did see each other.

. . .

Evelyn got out of her car driven by her chauffeur, when he opened the car door for her. The man was tall, nearly seven feet, with a deep and ugly scar down one cheek. She stepped out of the car with grace and poise. She grinned at her house and nodded with a sigh of satisfaction. "Thank you, Sam."

He gave a silent nod as he straightened and put his hands behind his back. Evie went on while continuing to beam at her house. "Are the dogs all ready to see me?"

This time the man gave a slight bow. Evie beamed brighter. "Alrighty then, as soon as I'm dressed properly to greet them I'll want to see them! And is the house all brightened up and swept clean for my arrival?"

"Alfred was here." The man replied.

"Excellent." Evie strode up to the door and opened it. Since the estate's gate was locked, their front door wasn't. Leslie stepped in and sighed stomping on the welcome mat more out of habit than to lose any dirt on her shoes. She then slipped said shoes off before striding through the house. She paused behind the back of her sofa. Then she bent over it to stare.

A man, tall, in his early twenties, and built like an American football team linebacker was stretched over the cushions of her sofa. His head was propped up on her pale, girlish pillows that were stacked up to support his bulk.

Evie spoke in a bright, breathless voice. "Goodness me! This tall, dark, gorgeous man on my couch can't possibly be my long lost god-nephew."

The man responded without opening his eyes. His tone of voice managed to be bland, warm, and tinged with amusement all at the same time even as his face remained straight as he spoke. "Good morning, aunt Evie."

The woman responded with some vehemence. "Drat!"

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ScribeofHeroes