Prudence
The moment he entered the Daily Planet pressroom, he wished that he'd just stayed home. Everyone in the room stopped in their tracks as he exited the elevator. Every face belonged to a friend. Every eye filled with sympathy. The normally chaotic space stilled for a moment as all attention shifted toward him. They meant well. He knew that. Unfortunately, all their good intentions dealt very real blows. The comforting pats on his arm felt like punches. Their sympathetic words crashed painfully against his eardrums. From the front receptionist to the pressroom newsboy, Clark learned quickly to issue an accepting nod and a whispered, "I'm fine, really."
Once he reached his desk, he faced an even greater challenge – Lois' desk. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and looked directly at it. For a second, he saw her. A mess of tucked back hair and a wicked smile, she looked up from her keyboard and said, "Hey there, Smallville, what's with the long face? Did you have to put down your prize cow, or something?"
With a shake of his head, her image faded. In its place, he found a box. At some point, a kind-hearted person had tried to spare him the pain of packing up her things. Of course, the result was that the desk looked nothing like the managed madness that Lois usually kept. Where were the piles of memos? Where was the rolodex that couldn't close due to all the post-its and scraps sticking out of it? Instead, the surface looked wiped clean of everything except the memory of her.
Sitting down at her desk, he tapped his fingers on the cardboard box. Activating his x-ray vision, he saw the family pictures and her nameplate. He saw a few files and that old rolodex. Staring at the box, he marveled how something so small could hold the odds and ends of a woman so much larger than life.
Suddenly, a crowd formed at the doors of the pressroom. The throng seemed intent on a single individual. Easily, the subject of such adoration cut a path out of the center of the swarm. Emerging unscathed, he lost no time heading directly for the one he came to see. A few feet away, he slowed down. As he took those last few steps, he watched Clark stand up and lean against Lois' desk.
"Mr. Wayne?" asked Clark as he extended his hand.
"Mr. Kent." Quickly, Bruce shook his hand. Flashing a cocky grin, Bruce turned to see Perry White come out of his office. Quickly, he focused on the Editor-in-Chief. "Mr. White, sorry for all the commotion, but I have some business to discuss with Mr. Kent. You wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for a while, would you?"
Bringing his hands up, Perry never got the chance to reply. Instantly, Bruce took a hold of Clark's left arm and started to guide him from the room. As they passed Perry, he waved him off with a single, fluttery gesture of his left hand. "Of course, you don't. Don't worry. I'll have him back within the hour."
Quickly, they made their way to the elevator where Bruce made sure they were the only ones to enter the car. As the doors closed on the shocked faces of his co-workers, Clark turned to Bruce and said, "Was all that really necessary?"
"Yes," replied Bruce as he stared at the elevator doors, never once meeting Clark's eyes.
Quietly, they rode the elevator down to the basement. The doors opened and they walked out to find a limo waiting, the engine idling. The driver side door opened and Alfred appeared. He opened the passenger door and waited for them to enter. Still clutching a firm forearm, Bruce pushed Clark into the car. They sat down, making themselves comfortable on the soft leather seat cushions as Alfred closed the door behind them and returned to the driver's seat. As the car drove away, Bruce flashed a warm smile and quipped, "Are you still sure that you want me in your life?"
"Is that what all this was about? A test?"
"Not at all. While it does work quite convincingly as a wake-up call, this is actually a business meeting."
"A business meeting?"
"Yes, I have a proposition for you. As a wealthy businessman, I'm always looking for charitable commitments to use as tax shelters. It doesn't hurt if these commitments also result in Wayne Enterprises getting a little positive press at the same time. With that aim in mind, I've decided to start a new scholarship fund in Lois Lane's name. The parameters of the scholarship still have to be hammered out, but we can do that together. Of course, there will be time commitments – A few meetings a month, maybe more. There will be three, maybe four, charity dinners, a couple interviews with the press and at least one gala. What do you say?"
"I'm not sure what to say," replied Clark as he glanced at Alfred.
"You can speak freely here, Clark. Alfred is just like your parents – Completely trustworthy."
"I see," he whispered. He watched as the otherwise proper butler smirked for a second as he quickly glanced over his shoulder.
"I thought this was what you wanted."
"It is. I do. I mean… I do want you in my life, Bruce. I guess I just never realized exactly what that meant. Do I have to settle for the playboy routine on a regular basis?"
"Yes. The playboy is a necessary evil. We can't all be like you, Clark. When you're Superman, you're the almighty, powerful being you were born to be. When you're Clark Kent, you're the shy, good-hearted man your parents raised you to be. One is completely different from the other, yet exactly who you are. My situation is different. Batman, in the end, is just a man with a lot of very intricate gadgets and years of training. Everyone knows this. Even the villains know this. The playboy is a distraction, a bit of sleight of hand. It keeps people from looking my way when they start wondering just where Batman got the money to buy that fancy car of his."
Nodding, Clark stared at Bruce. He rolled those words around in his mind for a few seconds before turning in his seat. Leaning over, he pressed a chaste kiss to Bruce's lips. As he pulled away, he couldn't help but notice the arched eyebrow this garnered from a certain butler. "If it protects you, then it's important to me."
Instantly, Alfred's arched brow softened, smoothing out kindly. The effect traveled south until it reached his eyes, diminishing the small worry lines found there.
For his part, Bruce was not unaffected. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, "Have you always been this sappy or did it take practice?"
"Bruce…"
"Look, Clark. I really thought about your request. This is the best idea I could come up with. It has the potential to be a train we can ride for years. Once Lucius, corporate legal and my marketing department get done with it, this foundation will practically run itself, but will give us a perfect excuse to be in the same room, to go out for dinner, to meet in the middle of the week. So, what do you say?"
"I like it and I think Lois would have, too."
Taking Bruce's hand, he squeezed it tightly. Nodding, he pulled on the hand until the man connected to it settled against him. Leaning forward, Bruce brushed the back of his fingers across a smooth cheek as he said, "Alfred, circle downtown for us a few times before we take Mr. Kent back to work."
"Very good, sir."
Alfred made sure it took every minute remaining of that hour to return to The Daily Planet.
Once they returned to the garage, Alfred held the door open for Clark and stood beside him as he summoned the elevator. As the approaching signal sounded, he asked, "Master Clark, might I inquire as to whether you intend to join us at the Manor in the near future?"
"I do, indeed, Alfred."
"Splendid, sir." Extending his arm, he held the doors open as he mentioned, "I'll make sure to stock those puff pastries you liked so much during your last visit."
"I don't want to be any trouble."
"No trouble at all, sir."
"That'd be great then, Alfred. Thanks." Smiling warmly, Clark patted him firmly on the shoulder before boarding the elevator. As the doors closed, he waved shyly at Alfred, earning a warm smile in return.
Up in the pressroom, Clark spoke with Perry White. He explained how he might need some intermittent leave from time to time to work on the scholarship being created in Lois' name. As he told Perry the particulars of the endowment, he felt his voice catch as he spoke of how this foundation would be a lasting tribute to Lois. This charity, he contended, would afford Lois the respect and notoriety she craved so much in life.
By the time he was done, Perry was blinking back tears and placing sympathetic pats on Clark's back. With a single nod, Perry approved the leave as he flashed compassionate eyes. Standing up abruptly, he assured Clark to take all the time he needed. Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he quickly turned away as he ordered Kent out of his office and back to work.
For the next several weeks, they met in Metropolis once or twice a week. These meetings started to get a lot of press shortly after they started. They both suspected Cat Grant tattled every time Clark left the office. So, they didn't restrict their time together to just the workweek. In fact, Clark spent an entire weekend at Wayne Manor in order to attend a charity dinner. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he heard the ten thousand dollar-a-plate price tag.
Of course, that reaction just made Bruce laugh.
Smoozing was never something Clark felt comfortable doing, but for the sake of the Lois Lane Memorial Scholarship Fund, he dealt with it. He shook hands. He made small talk while sipping champagne. Through it all, he dealt with the playboy, too. Behind closed doors, Bruce easily shoved the playboy in the corner, but pulled it back on like an old coat whenever people were around. Anyone. His secretary. The waitress at the corner café. Complete strangers on the street. At times, Clark marveled at how it was like flipping a switch – the ease with which the playboy could emerge.
Which was often.
Though Bruce and Clark were limited in their time together, Superman and Batman had every tragic circumstance and natural disaster in the world to serve as a good reason to see each other. They performed security duty together at the Watchtower. They assisted each other regularly while fighting crime. With their new connection in place, they found themselves at the bat cave during their downtime, more and more.
Quiet company, Clark would watch as Batman restocked both his and Robin's utility belts. He noticed how Robin's belt was packed first, then double-checked after Batman finished filling his own. Looking around the cave's dark corners, Clark noted the illuminated glass case holding Jason's old costume. He couldn't help but notice the way Bruce would momentarily pause every time he passed by it.
As the night would draw to an end, Alfred would emerge to offer a nightcap and a light snack. Seated at the small kitchen table, he marveled at how Alfred seemed to be the only person in the world capable of making Bruce blush. Perhaps, it was the wealth of history they shared or the ease with which Alfred revealed stories of a rambunctious Master Bruce as he placed more puff pastries on the table. Whatever it was; Clark welcomed Alfred's company and this fact did not go unnoticed by Bruce.
On the first night, Clark insisted Alfred leave the clean-up to him. With a pat on the back, Bruce agreed and sent Alfred to bed then proceeded to stand at the counter and quietly watch Clark wash the dishes. This became customary. For Clark, it meant that each trip to Wayne manor ended with him wiping dishwater off his hands as he concluded a mostly one-sided conversation.
Then one night, Batman called for back-up. Of course, Superman went right out. Afterwards at the bat cave, a very angry Dick demanded to know why he wasn't called. Words were exchanged. Most of them were either hurtful, condescending or both. In the end, it was clear Dick was with Barbara Gordon at the time the call went out. Shaking his head in disbelief, Dick stormed away, growling things about jealous bats and anti-social haters.
Stunned, Clark watched Batman just take it. Once the door to the manor sealed, Batman drew in a deep breath and then let out a great sigh. Head bowed, he went to the suit cabinet and started to disrobe. After he pulled the cape and cowl off, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Finally, he looked over at Clark and said, "I don't want this life to consume him like it did me."
Amazing, how that Bat continued to knock him off balance with a few simple words.
At last, the night of the big gala arrived. Bruce loaned him a tux and bought him a new pair of shoes. Alfred fed them beforehand, schooling Clark in gala etiquette as he placed steaming bowls of coq au vin in front of his three charges. Dick joked that he was getting déjà vu as he remembered the exact same speech when he attended his first gala. Bruce just smiled, quietly nodding his head at Dick's words.
At the gala, the catering company hired for the event employed well dressed hostesses that escorted their guests to their seats. Clark, Bruce, Dick, Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon and Mayor Hamilton Hill sat together at the head table. After a cleansing aperitif, the formal eight course dinner began. Toward the end of the sixth course, Clark stared as the plate from the cheese course was taken away and a small plate was placed before him with one petit four surrounded by four roasted almonds with their narrow ends pointed outwards in a perfect cross formation. Staring at the plate, Clark felt his stomach churn. It wasn't the frosted, layered confection. It wasn't the absurdity of such formality surrounding something that wouldn't fill the palm of his hand and would be considerably less satisfying than the trail mix it made him wish for.
No, that wasn't it at all.
"You ready for this?"
Looking at Bruce's concerned face, Clark swallowed hard and nodded once. A steady hand landed on his knee. As their eyes met, Bruce whispered, "Just be yourself."
As the staff placed coffee cup sets, Bruce stood up and approached the podium to the right and addressed the hall. "Mayor Hill, Commissioner Gordon, members of the Gotham City Council, esteemed guests and members of the press let me be the first to welcome you to the first annual gala for the Lois Lane Memorial Scholarship Fund. I would like to extend my personal thanks for your support of this worthy cause. A few months ago, we lost an amazing woman. Her dogged determination took her to the top of her field and to the ends of the earth. It is a privilege to be involved in an event that honors such a person. Now, I'm not the perfect person to speak about her. That would be her husband. Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in welcoming Clark Kent to the podium."
To a refined applause, Clark willed himself to walk over to Bruce without tripping. At the podium, Bruce patted him once on the shoulder then backed away. Taking a deep breath, Clark pulled his speech cards out of his jacket pocket. "I'd like to also extend my heartfelt thanks to everyone attending this fundraiser. I know it would have meant a great deal to Lois to have so many noteworthy people in attendance at a function in her honor. When Mr. Wayne first approached me about establishing this foundation, I wasn't completely clear on how all of it would work. Now, to see it to fruition, I can say with certainty that Lois would have been proud to have this bear her name."
"Lois never attended college. In fact, she didn't graduate from high school. She was sixteen when she hustled her way into her first byline at the Daily Planet. Though her life turned out well, she always impressed on those around her the importance of education. She…"
Looking down at the cards in his hands, Clark sighed. Folding them in half, he shoved them back in his jacket pocket. Looking out at the audience, he placed his hands on the podium and continued. "Over the years, Lois told me about her childhood. She was an Army brat. It was a fact of which she was both fiercely proud and, at times, incredibly sad. From Kindergarten to high school, she attended eleven different schools in six different countries. The longest she ever spent in one place was a single complete school year."
"Like many children of our military personnel, she had a hard time making friends and spent a great deal of her childhood alone. During her father's deployments, she struggled to do homework while worrying about his safety. She often said it made her tough. However, she also admitted to me that it made it difficult for her to trust people. She blamed her lack of spelling skills on the transient nature of her school years, but she never let it hold her back. She was a living example of resilience. It is that very resilience, the kind found in military families across this country and on military bases all over this world that this foundation will reward."
"Ladies and gentlemen, through your donations, the children of active duty military personnel will have access to one-on-one tutoring to help them transition into new school districts. They will be able to attend college, pursue masters programs and achieve their dreams. The reality of military life is one of doing more with considerably less. No one knows this more than the children who live that reality everyday. The money raised here tonight will help those children who live with the instability and challenges unique to multiple deployments. It is through your generosity that the noble aims of this foundation will be achieved."
As the room filled with a roaring applause, Clark wrapped up his speech. "On behalf of myself, Lois' parents and sister, I want to extend my heartfelt thanks. Lois truly was an amazing woman who fought all her days to promote the ends of truth and justice. Through this foundation, her memory and courageous spirit will live on. Thank you and good night."
Suddenly, Bruce was back at his side. Clark received a pat on his back and an honest smile before being sent back to his seat. Bruce took over the night. At his command, the dining room doors opened onto the grand ballroom. The guests were encouraged to dance and make merry. Quickly, they rose and funneled out to the grand ballroom where catering staff waited to meet their needs and collect their money.
Once the guests were gone, Mayor Hill and Commissioner Gordon stood and talked shop in a quiet corner that afforded them a full view of the dance floor. Under the watchful eye of her father, Barbara slipped her hand around Dick's strong arm, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. As the happy couple started to dance, Clark and Bruce entered the ballroom.
Immediately, three dueling socialites surrounded Bruce. With a shrug of his shoulders, Bruce let himself be pulled away. Several members of the press came over and chatted up Clark, envious of his new connections to so many powerful people. Standing off to the side of the dance floor, he worked at keeping up the appearance of following the conversation surrounding him as his eyes followed Bruce around the hall.
One of the girls hanging on Bruce got tired of being number three and left only to be replaced by two others. The feminine posse attacked from all sides. Their heads were flung back from fake laughter and their lips stretched taut with even faker smiles. Their hands slid down his cheek, patted his arm and slid across his chest. One bold woman slid her hand under Bruce's jacket just as she pressed her lips to his. Clark watched the scene unfold with ever narrowing eyes.
Slowly, he backed away from his colleagues and headed for the nearest balcony. As he opened the French doors, he inhaled the clear night air deeply. As the doors closed with a loud swoosh, he crossed the stone patio, coming to rest at the stone wall surrounding it. Leaning over, he rested his elbows on the cold stone and deeply drank in the night air. He slowly dug a groove with an incessantly tapping finger as he heard the doors open.
"Alfred said he saw you come in here."
"Did he?"
Coming to stand beside Clark, Bruce replied, "How are you doing? Is the whole thing getting a little overwhelming?"
"You could say that."
Turning until his back rested against the wall, Bruce looked through the French doors. Pushing off of the wall, he grabbed Clark by the bicep. As they approached the glass panes, Bruce pointed at a set of open doors across the room that led to the manor's main entrance. "My parents used to throw lots of galas – one every couple of months. Do you see that set of doors across the way? Just past them, you can see the main staircase. I used to sit on that staircase and watch them attend to their guests. My mother would be so beautifully dressed, not a hair out of place. The highlight of the night was watching them dance, the silhouette they cast."
At that moment, Clark smiled and looked at Bruce. He could see the star struck boy Bruce once was still living in those icy blue eyes. Reveling in memories, Bruce could feel he was being watched. Shifting his eyes, he caught Clark staring. Quickly, he turned his head until their eyes met. A moment of stillness passed between them before Bruce backed away. He only took a couple steps before he heard Clark call after him.
"Bruce."
"What?"
"We need to talk."
"This really isn't the time or place."
"Is there ever a good time or place for a talk like this?"
"What is it?"
"I was watching those women out there, the ones hanging all over you. I have to admit – It bothered me."
"Okay," said Bruce as he crossed his arms over his chest. Turning to face Clark, he rocked back on his heels. "They don't mean anything to me. They're just part of the whole playboy mystique."
"I know that. Normally, I'm not the jealous type, but seeing them touch you and seeing you touch them back – It reminded me that you and I haven't been… close since that first night. We see each other every few days. It almost seems to occur on a schedule."
"Don't you require that?"
"Well...Yes. That's just it, Bruce. I kiss you. You touch me back. I start the contact and you finish it."
"Is there a problem with that?"
"Yes. I understand that you probably feel responsible for me after everything. You try very hard to provide me with what I need, but I'm beginning to feel like just another mission to you."
"This started out of necessity. I saved your life and made it so that you would keep on living."
"This isn't just supposed to be about survival. You're my bondmate. I want more than to be your obligation."
"I've been respecting your boundaries. You told me that first night that sex was required to establish the bond, but not to maintain it. Since then, I've given you what you needed in the way of contact, but I haven't overstepped that. It was purposeful and there are two reasons for it. First, I'm just a substitute for the real thing. It has been blatantly obvious to me since that first night that you still love Lois. At the funeral, that time I found you at her desk, the way you spoke of her tonight underscores the love you feel for her. And, that's fine. Really. I'm okay with that. She was the love of your life. There is only a "we" because you needed someone to help you after her death and I was there. If she hadn't died, the two of you would still be together. This thing between us would never have happened. While I don't regret my actions, I'm not delusional either."
"That brings me to the second reason – None of this is real. Whatever you think you're feeling for me now is fake. It's a product of your condition. You want me because you need me to survive. I'm a drug that you're addicted to and nothing more. Any feelings you may think you're starting to feel for me are just cravings being misinterpreted."
Once Bruce finished speaking, silence filled the air between them. Executing a single stride, he never broke eye contact as he drew closer to Bruce. Slowly, he advanced with his arms lowered submissively, palms out and fingers splayed wide. Once mere inches stood between them, he whispered, "Yes, I still love Lois. I'll always love her, but, she's my past and you're my present. You're my bondmate now and you're wrong when you say the feelings I'm beginning to feel for you are fake."
"I loved Lois before the bond. The bond didn't make that love go away. It didn't replace it and it didn't keep it from growing a little more everyday. If I said the bond doesn't affect me, then we'd both know I was lying. Truth is, there were times with Lois when our schedules conflicted or she was away on business and I would feel the most incredible hunger for her due to the bond. I won't deny that, but the hunger didn't get in the way of my love for her and it doesn't affect the feelings I'm beginning to have for you."
"You can't know that, Clark."
"Don't tell me what I can't know. I know that in the last few months, we've shown parts of ourselves to each other that we normally keep hidden away. I've seen the parts of you that other people love about you and I know that you've seen the same in me. I can't say that what I'm feeling for you is love yet, but I know my feelings are real."
A thick veil of silence descended between them. They stood and stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like eternity. Finally, Bruce stepped away, heading for the French doors while he said, "We need to go back inside. Our guests will begin to feel neglected."
The party continued for two more hours. They spent it at opposite sides of the ballroom. At the end of the night, the guests left and the caterers cleaned out. Bruce sent Alfred to bed and bid goodnight to Dick as he left to take Barbara home. Alone for the first time since their talk on the balcony, they stood in the empty ballroom, staring directly at one another. Advancing on Clark quickly, Bruce pulled up within a couple inches of him and said, "I need to go out and patrol. You can see yourself out, right?"
"Bruce…"
"Look, Clark. Talking about my feelings is not something I do."
Shaking his head, Clark stood his ground. Bruce could see the disappointment in Clark's eyes, but he didn't look away. Deciding on a course of action, he lunged forward. With his left hand he grabbed the back of Clark's head while his right hand latched onto to his jaw. Pulling him forward, he kissed him roughly. As Clark's lips parted from shock, Bruce ran his tongue along those lips before sweeping into his mouth. As the kiss deepened, Clark's stiff arms melted, wrapping loosely around Bruce's torso.
Slowly, Bruce's right hand loosened, stroking down the wavy black hair until his fingers weaved into the curls at the hairline. At the same time, he relaxed the death grip he held on Clark's jaw and gently ran his fingertips up the jaw line and across the smooth expanse of his cheek. Cupping the soft flesh, Bruce ran his thumb across a high cheekbone.
By degrees, the kiss cooled until it dissolved into a series of drawn out pecks, their puckered lips reaching out for each other. With a final soft kiss and a couple gentle caresses, Bruce pulled away. Taking a step back, he looked at the shocked expression on Clark's face and said, "I need to go patrol now."
Turning on his heel, he spun away fluidly, leaving a stunned silent man in his wake.