Chapter 14

Gotham

Bruce had just gotten up after another long night and was trying to have some breakfast. He was not in a good mood as he sliced into his eggs Benedict. The Riddler had been up to his usual mischief and it had taken most of the night to track him down and foil the robbery. Bruce had to wonder sometimes about the villains he ran up against in Gotham. The pinhead might have had a chance of getting away with his crime if it wasn't for those ridiculous riddles, Bruce grumbled himself. They made everything much more elaborate and in the end more likely to fail. It's nice to have a hook and all, Bruce thought, but face facts, it isn't working. Later tonight, Bruce would pay a call to the Riddler and take him back to Arkham where he belonged. The sound of the front doorbell just darkened Bruce's mood, the last thing he wanted was company. Hopefully Alfred would take care of it, Bruce thought, sipping his coffee. The sound of voices approaching dashed those hopes. He could hear Alfred trying to explain that Bruce didn't wish to be disturbed, but the rhythmic tap of high heels against the polished hard wood floors kept coming closer. The door suddenly swung open and Zatanna was standing there. Bruce offhandedly noticed she wasn't wearing her costume, just a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, but he had to admit she looked damn good. The glare she was giving him told Bruce that she was no happy. Alfred came up beside her and offered his apologies.

"I informed Miss Zatara you didn't wish to be disturbed, but she was rather insistent."

"It's all right, Alfred," Bruce said with a nod and a wave of his hand. Alfred quietly exited, closing the door behind him.

"So what brings you barging into my house today, Zee?"

"We need to have a talk, Bruce," Zatanna said seriously. "As far as barging in, at least I didn't break in like you have a habit of doing."

"I bribed the maid the last time, there is a difference," He pointed out.

"Bruce, don't try and be clever, it doesn't suit you. I came here because I'm sick of you nosing into my life," she told him.

"I was worried about you. You could have been hurt or worse,' he replied.

"Thank you for worrying," she reluctantly said, but then got right back to her original point. "That still doesn't give you an excuse to break into my hotel room, or bribe the maid. I want it to stop, now!"

"You're just as stubborn as you were when I met you,' Bruce grumbled. "You didn't want my help then either as I remember it, but I seem to recall saving you from some rather embarrassing situations."

"Bruce, I was a kid!" Zatanna yelled, "do I look like a kid to you now?"

Bruce didn't answer right away, as he glanced over at her. Even as casually dressed as she was, he had to admit she was a beautiful young woman. Brushing that thought aside, he countered her argument. "No, but you're still new at all this hero business, Zee. Your father isn't here anymore to protect you."

"So you've decided to take that role," she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Someone has to," Bruce replied, "You're still green and unsure of yourself. One mistake could cost you."

"That doesn't explain checking up on whom I'm dating," she countered.

"You should be thanking me for that," Bruce practically snorted. "It's amazing how someone as young as you can attract so many losers and douchebags. I shudder to think what this new guy is like. He probably has a ponytail and works at a used record store, if he works at all."

"Bruce! AARRGGHHHH!" Zatanna screamed, her hands balled up in fists. She was so angry with him, but willed herself to stay in control. Taking a few deep breaths, she got herself under control and glared at him.

"He has a job, Bruce," she said as calm as she could, "and not in a used record store."

"Don't tell me," he replied, derisively, " he's starting his own alt rock band but the record companies don't understand his genius."

"OH! I'm going to kill you!" Zee shouted in frustration, turning her back as she was shaking with rage.

"There's that temper again, Zee," Bruce noted, as he sipped his coffee. Zatanna turned back around to face him, her mouth open, her teeth clench, as she stared daggers at him.

"What about you, Bruce," she practically hissed. "Do any singing lately?"

"What?" he said, caught off guard, 'you agreed to never mention that again."

"Well, you seem so eager to give me advice on who I'm dating, I thought I'd return the favor," she continued. "Still dancing around Diana, are you? I don't know how much plainer she has to make it that she's interested. You can try and hide it, but I know you're interested too."

"That's different," Bruce said defensively. "I knew it was a mistake coming to you with that pig situation."

"So are you just going to string her along, like you usually do," Zatanna pointedly said to him. "She's not like the models and actresses you usually date, is she, Bruce? You might actually have to show some genuine emotions with her."

"There's nothing going on between Diana and me. We're colleagues, that's all, I've explained to her why it wouldn't work," Bruce said rather testily.

"Let me guess, the rich boy with issues line," Zatanna fired back. "How many times have you used that one, Bruce?"

"It's not a line, it's the truth," Bruce countered. "Diana's new to this world, but she'll eventually understand why it wouldn't work out."

"And you have the nerve to judge who I go out with?" Zee laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't try and buy some of them off or intimidate them as Batman."

Bruce didn't say anything to this, only took another long sip of his coffee.

You did, didn't you?" Zee gasped. "Who was it, Larry, the salesman? So that's why he never called me again!"

"You should really thank me for getting you away from that one." He said under his breath.

"It was none of your business! Besides, he was sweet!" She protested.

"He was a pretentious asshole, Zee!" Bruce replied. "He made his own soap and fragrances, that he sold out of the trunk of his car! I can still smell those horrible clove cigarettes he was always smoking. Even his homemade soap couldn't wash the smell of loser coming off him."

"I'll have you know that was just his day job! He was an artist!" she fired back.

"Oh, right, how could I forget his witless poetry," Bruce scoffed. "I still have nightmares about his twenty minute poem/rant about stamps! It was bad enough having to be in that old rundown hall, without listening him go on and on. That's one long night I'll never get back."

"You were there?! You were spying on me!" She screamed in shock.

"Saving you is more like it," he replied.

"Bruce Wayne, I-I-I'm going to kill you!" she shrieked. "I don't need you or anyone else to save me! I'm an adult, if you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself!"

"What about Africa," Bruce bluntly said to her. That stopped Zatanna in her tracks

"What about it?"

"If I hadn't been there, there's no telling what might have happened," Bruce said to her. "Whether you want to admit it or not, you needed saving that day."

"I know I handled it badly," she admitted.

"No, you fell apart, Zee. I'm not trying to be cruel here, but let's not hide from the truth."

Neither one of them said anything for a moment, as his words hit their mark. He hadn't meant to say it so harshly, but once he got going it had just come out. Her jabs about Diana had hit a little too close to home and just added to his foul mood. Bruce instantly regretted saying it, but it was out now and there was no way to take it back.

"You're right, Bruce, I did fall apart," Zatanna quietly admitted. "That's the reason I went back."

"Why? What possible reason could you want to go back there?"

"Because I was overwhelmed, Bruce. You wanted to know why I went there, it was to try and find a way to cope with all of it. I don't know how you handle it, really, but I had to find a way for myself," Zee said to him. "I knew if I didn't go back I would be running away. I wouldn't be able to stop once I started. So I went back and tried to find some sense to it all. Maybe my way of dealing with it is trying to help people, the survivors, I don't know. That's the reason I went back, Bruce."

"Anger."

"What," she asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"Anger," he repeated, "You wondered how I deal with it, that's how. I sure the others would tell you different things, but when it gets right down to it, it's anger."

As Zee listened to him, she realized this was the Batman speaking. How easily Bruce Wayne disappeared into the Batman was surprising to her.

"What about trying to make a difference? Trying to make it a better, safer world?" she asked.

"You've been listening to too many of Superman's speeches,' he said dismissively. "That better world is Pollyannaish dreaming. Oh, I'm sure he believes it and with his gifts it might even be possible. The truth for the rest of us comes down to anger. You don't think I was just as shocked and horrified as you were out there? I was, believe me, but what I was mostly was angry. I was angry that innocent people were caught up in some madman's plans. I was angry that they had to witness that sort of evil in the world. Mostly I was angry with the people behind those horrors. That dream of a better world has been around for a long time, Zatanna, but that's really what it is, a dream. The people that suffer and die find little comfort in it. Every time the strong prey on the weak, the man with the gun thinks that entitles him to take what he wants, those victims aren't thinking of a better world, they're angry that it's happening to them. They're angry that justice failed them. They're angry that playing by the rules offered them no protection against scum that plays by none. Criminals and monsters that would kills innocent people just because they can deserve nothing but our anger, Zee. It's not a better world but anger that focuses the mind. The anger that won't let monsters get away with what they do."

Zatanna stood there stunned by his words. She knew Bruce had a dark side, but the passion behind his words was completely different than anything she'd ever seen in him. As she stood there listening to him, she realized just how deeply he'd been scarred by his parents' death. That night in the alley was his defining moment and he'd never really moved passed it. Her heart went out to him, wanting to take the pain away, but the moment was already passed and he had reverted to Bruce Wayne again.

"Don't look so shocked, Zee. You wanted to know how to deal with it, so I told you. I think it also proves my point," Bruce offered as he finished his coffee and stood up.

"What point," she asked.

"You come in here railing against me for trying to protect you, which I might point out, shows I care. You're still young, Zee, you're just starting out and you're going to make some mistakes. I'm just trying to make sure nothing happens to you, is all."

"I-I appreciate that, Bruce, I really do, but you can't protect me from everything. I'm not the little girl you knew back at my father's studio. I'm all grown up now and sure I'm going to make mistakes, but I have to figure it out on my own."

"Some times we all need some help, Zee,' Bruce said.

"Yes, but you could wait until I ask you," She countered.

"Is this still about the salesman? Cause I think we both know I was right on the money about him," Bruce offered.

"You're impossible," she shrugged in irritation. "Don't you think I figured out he wasn't the right guy? How stupid do you think I am? I didn't need Batman scaring the life out of him either!"

"Let's just hope I don't have to resort to that with this new guy," Bruce carelessly said under his breath.

"I'd actually like to see that," Zee whispered, a smile coming to her face at the thought.

"Why? What's the matter with him," Bruce immediately asked.

"Nothing!" She said in exasperation. "Just mind your own business when it comes to my personal life, will you?"

Bruce didn't immediately answer.

"I'll tell everyone about you singing if you don't," she threatened.

"You wouldn't," he said.

"I will."

"Okay, you win, I'll try," Bruce reluctantly agreed.

"Thank you, Bruce, and stop breaking into my hotel room, too," she told him.

"I only broke in the one time, Zee," he countered.

"You know what I mean, Bruce!"

"Fine, I'll knock next time."

"Good and if no one answers, that means they don't want to," Zee said with a smile.

"May I say that I just hope this new guy treats you right," Bruce offered.

"Yes, you may and thank you."

"He better or I just might make a little visit to see him," Bruce warned.

"Singing, Bruce! The first person I'll tell is Wally," she threatened.

"Please, don't be that cruel."

"Just keep that in the back of your mind," Zee informed him. She opened the door and started out, passing Alfred.

"Are you leaving, Miss Zatara?"

"Yes, but I can find my own way out, Alfred. Nice seeing one of you today," she said with a smile. Bruce moved over and stood next to Alfred watching her leave. As the door closed, he turned to Alfred.

"See what our contacts can find out about this new guy Zatanna seeing, would you, Alfred?"

"Are you sure that's wise, Master Bruce?"

"I said I would try, Alfred, I never said I'd succeed," Bruce replied with a smile. Alfred just shook his head as Bruce laughed and headed up the stairs to get dressed.

Daily Planet

Lois Lane was in an excited mood as she moved briskly to her office. The day hadn't started out as anything special, but then new information about the Albino seemed to just drop into her lap. It was a fluke, really, she thought, that she got off on the wrong floor. At first when Fred and Doris had called to her, she'd cringed a little inside, but thankfully she was too polite not to speak to them. It was a surprise when they asked her if she'd had any more luck with her story about the Albino. She told them no, but was still looking into it. They seemed almost thrill to hear this, which she thought was strange, but then they began to pull out old classified ads. Fred explained that on a hunch he'd been looking through some of the old papers and he noticed something odd. It seemed there were messages posted from someone calling themselves 'the White One in Gotham". As he showed a very interested Lois, he went on to say that they seemed to be in some sort of code that he hadn't been able to figure out. Doris drew Lois' attention to the dates of the messages, explaining they all seemed to occur either right before or right after a major event in Metropolis. Lois asked if she could keep the copies and then both smiled and agreed. They told her they'd keep digging to see if they could find any more for her. Lois was so excited, she practically ran to he elevator. Doris and Fred waved and smiled big smiles as the doors closed.

Sitting down in her chair with her office door closed, Lois felt the thrill of the scoop. She was a diligent reporter, out working most of her fellow news people, but there was nothing like breaking the big story. A smile came to her face when she thought of Clark's reaction to her scoop. Lately the dynamic between them seemed to have shifted and Lois kept finding herself off kilter in their exchanges. Ever since he'd told her about his date with the girl magician, Lois felt a nagging doubt that she'd missed something. Her feelings confused her and she didn't feel her old confident self. It wasn't something she was used to and frankly she didn't like it. Clark seemed different to her somehow, more confident and relaxed in his skin. She was starting to wonder if maybe there was more to Clark then she'd realized. No, she told herself, don't go there, he's the same Clark it's just this whole thing with him dating that has you confused. I'll get the scoop and things will go back to how they should be, Lois told herself. Grabbing a pencil she dove right into trying to decipher the coded messages from the classified. In the back of her mind, though, there was still a small nagging doubt that perhaps this new Clark wouldn't just disappear. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, she absently pondered. No, stop thinking about Clark and get the scoop, she scolded herself. Focusing her mind, Lois plunged ahead with the deciphering.

Smallville

Clark landed unnoticed behind the barn and quickly changed into his regular clothes. As he headed towards the front door, he again chastised himself for not coming back home more. Martha Kent had sounded different on the phone when he'd called her earlier and that worried him. Poking his head inside the door, he glanced around the kitchen, but didn't see her. That was unusual, as she always seemed to be baking or cooking something delicious up. Scanning the house, he saw she was lying on her bed, resting. That wasn't like her either and he quickly made his way upstairs.

"Ma? You okay," he called, opening the door to her room.

"Oh, Clark, you're home!" she happily said, sitting up rather stiffly. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Is everything okay, Ma," he asked, the concern apparent on his face.

""Don't worry, son, it's just these old bones get winded faster than they used to. I just needed a little rest, is all," she said, dismissing his concern.

"Are you sure? You didn't sound like yourself on the phone earlier," he replied.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she quickly said, starting to get up from the bed. She faltered for a moment and Clark quickly steadied her. She took a moment before she pushed his hand away.

"I just get a little dizzy when I get up to fast. Nothing to worry about," she told him. "Now you must be hungry after flying all the way here, I think there's some chicken in the refrigerator. I'll just warm it up for you."

"Have you seen Doc Blake, Ma? Maybe there's something wrong," he asked, hovering close to her incase she got dizzy again.

"Yes, I've seen him and I'm fine, Clark," she dismissed, taking her time heading down the stairs.

"Maybe there's something he missed? I could fly you to Metropolis for a second opinion," Clark offered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark, there's nothing wrong with me that isn't wrong with a lot of people."

"What do you mean," he asked in concern.

"I'm old, Clark," she bluntly said to him. "It's just a part of life that we all go through."

"Come on, Ma, you're not that old," Clark offered, concern over this whole conversation.

"Yes, I am, son," Martha gently said, "It may not seem like it to you, but I am. I've never shied away from the truth before and I'm not going to start now. There's nothing you or I or anyone can do to change it. It's a part of life, Clark and sooner or later we all have to accept it."

Clark was too stunned for words and silently followed her down to the kitchen. He'd never given any thought to her age, but now as he watched her go about the fixing a meal, he couldn't help but notice the subtle changes. He was so used to seeing her vibrant and full of life that he hadn't even realized the slow steady progress of the years. Sadness seemed to grip him as he looked at his mother with new eyes. She was his anchor, the person he loved more than words could say. She'd always been there for him, yet now the real possibility of her not being there seemed to weight him down. It was her gentle voice that finally pulled him from these thoughts.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking, Clark, sit down and eat something. I think you're thinner since the last time I saw you. Don't they feed you right in that big city?"

I'm eating plenty, Ma," he smiled, taking a seat, "they just don't make the food as good as you do."

"Well, aren't you the flatterer," Martha laughed, sitting down across from him. "I'm surprised you aren't wooing some young lady with talk like that."

"I save it for the prettiest girl in Smallville, Ma," Clark smiled.

"Keeping being nice to me like that and I'll think your trying to get something over on me. You know you never could, Clark," she told him with a knowing smile.

"I wouldn't even try, Ma, I know better," he laughed.

"So tell me, why haven't you found yourself a nice girl in that big city? There must be lots of single girls that would be interested in a handsome young man like you."

Clark blushed at her words and then sheepishly said, "Well, I did meet one."

"Oh, really? Well, I want all the details," Martha brightened. "Tell me all about her."

"Well, she's really beautiful and has dark hair,' he started.

"You always did go for the brunettes, Clark," she laughed. For the next hour or two they talked, about the girl he'd met, his life, his work and just about everything. They shared a few laughs and the small farmhouse became a home as they talked the night away.