Chapter 22 – Dance the night away

"Bruce, Selina, I'd like you to finally meet my fiancé, Simon," Maggie introduced ten minutes into the reception.

"Very nice to meet you," Bruce tried giving them his full attention, but two tables over stood Clark, whose two-month disappearance still hadn't been explained. The mystery was slowly driving Bruce insane.

Selina noticed her husband's distracted state and nudged him gently in the side.

"Do you two have a date picked out yet?" she asked Maggie.

Maggie's answer faded into the crowd, indistinguishable from the multitude of conversations filling the elegant ballroom. Beneath sparkling chandeliers and twenty-foot-high arched windows, guests reveled in the wedding of the century, thrilled to partake in the decadence of highest society. A steady line formed at the champagne fountain, another at the chocolate fondue, and everyone eyed the ten-tier masterpiece wedding cake gluttonously.

When the dinner hour at last arrived, Bruce hoped Clark's seat next to him at the head table would afford the answers he sought. First, however, there was the matter of the best man's toast.

With fluted glass in hand, Clark stood and cleared his throat. "Good evening everyone. My name is Clark Kent, though some of you already know that. Some know me as one of Bruce's longest, closest friends. And others know me from some invasive, relentless journalism done at their expense." Laughter rumbled across the tables, earning a nose-wrinkling smile from Lois nearby.

"Just how long Bruce and I have known each other, neither of us can say. It feels like there never really was a single 'start' date to our friendship. Although there have been times when we've lost touch for a while," he glanced knowingly at Bruce, "it never changes anything. And as far as I can tell, that's exactly what Bruce and Selina have too. I wouldn't be standing here today, celebrating with all of you, if I didn't truly believe that.

"So when I raise my glass and ask you to celebrate them, we're not just saluting the beautiful ceremony they exchanged vows in. Or this reception that's fit for a king and queen. Nice job outdoing my wedding this past fall, by the way," he winked at Bruce, garnering more laughter. "No, I want us to celebrate what actually matters here, which is Bruce and Selina's unquestionable harmony and devotion. If Lois and I weren't already married, I'd say there wasn't a more perfectly matched couple in the world."

Raising his glass amidst another round of chuckles, Clark was about to sit down when he was blindsided by another hug from Bruce, followed by Selina a moment later.

As the first of five gourmet courses was placed in front of them, Bruce leaned toward Clark. He wasn't about to waste another minute.

"So tell me, Clark… heard any rumors lately about Superman?"

Clark lifted his eyebrows. "As a matter of fact, yes," he chewed a moment. "Lois tells me she's finally heard from him."

"Really! You don't say."

"Mm-hm."

"Did he tell her why he went missing for two whole months?"

"He wouldn't say. Not directly, at least. She mentioned something about him feeling 'under the weather' for a while. Guess it happens to everyone, even Superman," Clark shrugged.

"Interesting," Bruce narrowed his eyes. "He's fully recovered now?"

"One hundred percent."

"Well, I'm very glad to hear it," Bruce squeezed Clark's shoulder.

"Not as glad as Lois and I are," replied Clark, glancing sideways. "You should be seeing Superman back in action very soon. In fact…" his head suddenly turned, eyes looking a hundred miles out the window. "…maybe even right now."

"Seriously?" Bruce almost choked on his food. Sure enough, Clark stood and excused himself as quickly as he could without drawing undue attention. Lois tracked his exit, nodding at him from her seat.

Taken aback, Selina turned to Bruce for an explanation. "He… he just left?"

"He said he might be coming down with the flu," Bruce fabricated. "He didn't want to ruin things by 'returning' the food, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that," Selina frowned. "He sure hid it well during his toast. It was lovely, don't you agree?"

"Very."

Clark's vacant chair tamped down the mood only momentarily. Exquisite cuisine, live music and dancing soon filled the void, drowning their senses for hours upon end. Bruce surprised Selina yet again by partaking in a moderate amount of champagne. It may have only been a glass or two, but it was enough to loosen his dance moves, much to the sheer delight of every guest. Selina matched his steps with her full repertoire, earning endless cheers from onlookers.

Even heroes needed to pause and rehydrate after an hour of nonstop dancing. Selina and Bruce landed at the nearest table and grabbed the water pitcher.

It was Lois' table. After they chugged two glasses of water each, they sat back and suddenly realized they hadn't seen her on the dance floor all night. Nor had they observed her drinking any champagne, either.

"Why don't you come out there with us for the next song?" Selina invited.

"Oh, no thank you," Lois smiled weakly.

"Just because Clark had to leave is no reason you should be bored all night," her friend encouraged.

"It's not that," insisted Lois. "I'm just really tired. Jet lag, awful hotel beds… you know how it goes."

Pursing her lips, Selina nodded. There were some faint bags under Lois' eyes. She looked like she could probably fall asleep at a moment's notice, to be honest. Selina was about to suggest that Lois turn in for the night when Alfred came over, Dick limping beside him.

"Master Bruce, Madame Selina, I believe it best if I take Dick home," he couldn't help but smirk. "I found the boy asleep in a half-eaten piece of cake."

"By all means," Bruce concurred. "Take him straight to bed please, Alfred. Thank you."

"Very good. And my heartfelt congratulations again, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne," Alfred bid them goodnight.

Lois took that as her cue to depart as well. Alfred offered to drop her by the hotel en route to the manor, which she graciously accepted.

"She wasn't her usual fun-loving self," Selina remarked after Lois was out of earshot. "I sure hope she isn't coming down with whatever Clark has."

The next morning, a delivery truck packed full of wedding gifts arrived at Wayne Manor's gate. The master and lady of the house were not there to witness the arrival, having flown off to their honeymoon before sunrise. It was Alfred's task to pile everything in the foyer.

Halfway through stacking the enormous packages, Dick appeared, rubbing his eyes and yawning heavily.

"Are any of those for me?" he mumbled, checking the tags.

"I'm afraid not," Alfred answered. "Unfortunately, most people overlook existing children when buying wedding gifts."

"Oh." Dick's disappointment was heavy.

Alfred deftly arranged the remaining boxes and stood back to admire the impressive tower. "There! Mr. and Mrs. Wayne will have a fine time digging through all that in two weeks."

Dick eyed it all with a scowl. "I'm hungry."

"Indeed, so am I," Alfred said brightly. "Why don't you follow me to the kitchen and we'll see what's waiting in there?"

Dick scowled even more. "Waiting in there? It's just food."

"Perhaps," hinted Alfred. "Or perhaps not."

As they entered the kitchen, Dick's eyes scanned the familiar fixtures for anything unusual. It didn't take him long to spot it: a short, rectangular present wrapped in silver. It had been placed immediately in front of Dick's favorite chair.

"Is… that mine?" he looked hesitantly at the butler.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to sit in your preferred spot and open it for you," Alfred teased.

Dick's features lifted as he hurried over to tear off the bow. Shreds of silver paper soon covered the table, but all Alfred cared about was the boy's reaction to the gift inside. First came the white lid, then a couple layers of tissue paper…

Then came a pair of green gloves, black utility belt, yellow cape, and finally, a red and green bodysuit with a yellow "R" emblem stitched on the chest. Dick pulled each article out with wonder and care, placing them reverently on the table.

"Did you make this?" he whispered.

"Good guess," Alfred beamed with pride. "Yes, I did. At your father's request."

"It's… awesome!" grinned Dick, unable to control his enthusiasm. "Thank you!"

"You're most welcome, Dick. A boy with a proper hero's name deserves a proper hero's costume."

"Can I go try it on right now?"

Alfred smiled. "I thought you were famished."

"Breakfast can wait!" Dick leaped out of his chair, already halfway out of the kitchen.