Author's Note: More exposition. Oh joy. For those of you who've been loving the fluff so far, enjoy it while it lasts, because it won't last long. Not long at all.

I put a bit of thought into the characterization for this chapter, and decided to try something a little different. Hope it doesn't bug anybody too much.

Clark Kent pulled into the lot of the chapel in his jalopy. It was a small building with a modest exterior, but he couldn't help but admire its stoic charm. He stepped out of the car and swiftly walked to the other side to help his passenger exit the vehicle.

"You know, Clark, I honestly don't see why you need this piece of garbage in the first place. With your salary, you could at least afford something that runs all the time," said Lois Lane, rolling her stunning blue eyes. Despite her slight irritation, her eyes were gleaming vivaciously. Lois happened to be Clark's bride of nearly a year.

"Lois, you know this was my first car! I could never throw it away!" Clark exclaimed, as if he was appalled at the single thought.

"Clark, honey, you can fly. You don't need a car in the first place," Lois said with an amused grin. "Plus, I still can't understand why you insisted on driving this heap of crap all the way from Smallville. It's a miracle that we made it here in the first place."

"Bruce said that he has a good mechanic who can fix her up pretty well. Besides, I thought we'd enjoy the scenic route."

"Some things never... Oh, wow..." Lois cut herself off as they opened the door, revealing the breathtaking sights within the diminutive building. Together, the couple stepped into the threshold of the church, thoroughly amazed.

"Wow is right..." Clark said in astonishment.

The inside of the building couldn't have been a sharper contrast to the outside. Ornate ice sculptures that must have taken ages to create were lined up against the walls. All of the tables were draped in a pristine white cloth that seemed to have the ability to sparkle in the light that managed to seep through the windows. A beautiful assortment of flowers were delicately placed within clear vases in the middle of the tables, emanating an aura of peace and happiness. The room wasn't crowded, considering the amount of people one would expect to see at such a prestigious ceremony. On the contrary, there couldn't have been more than two dozen people milling around the room. Clark quickly scanned the room for familiar faces. He spotted a little old woman talking to a black man with graying hair, an attractive woman with a short black pixie cut who seemed to be eying the decorations with a mischievous glint in her piercing green eyes, a man with ginger hair who was so unbelievably nondescript that he somehow managed to stand out from the crowd, and finally a very distinctive set of wings. He edged his way through the crowd (which wasn't particularly arduous, given his enormous stature) to greet John Stewart (Green Lantern), Shayera Hol (the former Hawkgirl), and Wally West (Flash).

"Where is he?" Clark whispered to John while Lois animatedly chatted with Shayera and Wally.

"In there," John replied, gesturing at a door with his thumb. "I'd be careful, though, if I were you. He's a bit... off his game today."

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Clark asked. "I mean... He's Batman, right?"

John shrugged. "See for yourself, man. Dick's with him now. Just don't say that I didn't warn you."

Clark nodded and approached the door. As soon as he opened the door, he instantly knew what John had been talking about. Bruce Wayne was slumped in a small wooden chair in the center of the room, looking like it was his last day on Earth. Standing next to him and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly was Dick Grayson, Bruce's protege who had spent the last several years fighting crime off on his own as the vigilante Nightwing. Dick shook his head sadly as Clark entered. He stood up and walked out of the room, giving Bruce and Clark a moment of privacy. "Good luck," he muttered as he passed. "I think you're going to need it."

"Bruce?" Clark said uncertainly, approaching his friend. "Are you feeling alright?" There was no response. "Bruce? Hello?" Still no answer. Clark sighed, "Only you could be this miserable on your wedding day... Come on, if there was ever a time to lighten up..."

"I can't do this," Bruce finally said. His voice sounded hoarse and croaky as though he hadn't used it in a quite some time.

"Come on, we've been over this. Things will be fine. It's not that big of a deal; it just makes things official. It's been nearly a year since Lois and I got hitched and we barely notice it. If I can do it, then so can you," he finished, trying to bolster Bruce's spirits by stroking his ego. Unfortunately, Bruce saw through the attempt and sent one of his infamous Batglares towards Clark.

"If that were true, I'd be able to go jump off of Wayne Tower right now... an idea that's sounding better and better with each passing moment. I should've broken this off months ago," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Bruce, you and I both know that that's not true," Clark said sternly. "You two make a good team. Besides, it's way too late now. I'm not saying that you would, but if you leave Diana at the altar today, some poor priest will have to spend the next few weeks cleaning bat-guts out of his church. I hate to break it to you, but you're locked in. So why don't you stop being a martyr for once and enjoy it? You don't have to outwardly enjoy it, you know. Just don't fight it. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about." Bruce stared in amazement at Clark's ignorance. "I'm about to make Satan my father in law." He groaned quietly. "This is ridiculous, and it's not going to end well for anybody. I shouldn't be doing this."

Clark was about to argue when he heard an alert from the tiny communicator that he always kept in his ear. "Alright, Bruce, just try to relax for a bit. I'll be back in time, I just need to deal with something."

"Alright, let's go," Bruce said, standing up and unbuttoning his tuxedo.

"Bruce, you're not... You're wearing the suit. Of course... Wearing the Batsuit to your wedding. Only you, Bruce."

"It's a lightweight fabric to fit underneath clothing," Bruce said, any trace of his nerves quickly disappearing. "That doesn't matter. Where's the situation? Alfred and Diana confis... took my communicator and Barbara's jamming my signals."

"You," Clark began, forcefully pushing Bruce back into the chair, "are not coming. It's a small situation, no big deal. You're needed here. You're going to stay and enjoy yourself, even if it kills you. Understand?"

Bruce glowered for a moment before reverting to his original position with his head in his hands. Clark left him to ponder his thoughts, hoping that his friend would come around eventually, and wondering why Commissioner Gordon would need to see Batman in broad daylight...

Author's Note: This one'll be continued directly as soon as I find the time between homework assignments. My bet would be either tomorrow night or Thursday morning. Then again, my time frames could be a bit different from now on because- get this- BETA READERS. That's right, I'm swallowing my pride. Again, I'm not too particular about who I share my notes with, so if you want to offer input or insight, just say the word.

Scratch anything that I said about timeframes. Nothing is concrete anymore, so I guess it's pointless. Stuff'll get done eventually.

Betas for this Chapter:

YourAngelicVampyre

xWonderxWomanx