I've decided that Saturdays will be my update day! I can't always promise it'll be early Saturday, but I'll try my best to get it out in a reasonable amount of time!
Clark Kent, Daily Planet Reporter, has always managed to avoid the galas and parties thrown by Metropolis' richest. He writes about Superman, hero work, and what it means for their city. The only way he got out of going to the Metropolis-Gotham gala -at least, as Clark Kent- was by an excuse made days before about his Pa falling ill.
But now that Clark is back from Smallville and ready to report again, he can't exactly get out of this.
"Perry, I'm already doing an investigation piece!"
"Then you should know exactly why I'm sending you, Miss Lane! They're business rivals!"
Lois is clearly exasperated as she holds up the rough draft of her newest work-in-progress. "Yeah, Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp have been rivals for years, but Luthor won't even be-"
"Then it's exactly in line with what you're investigating!" Perry counters. "Think of it! Wayne Enterprises opens a branch near LexCorp's turf! What will Mr. Luthor do? How will he react? Two of the richest men in America on the same grounds?! Write it, Lane!"
"But I'm already finished and this has nothing to do with LexCorp's economic waste-"
"Then add it in! You have a good editor! Use him!"
Clark stands awkwardly, off to the side. He's not a part of this conversation. The only reason he's even in Perry's office is because this involves Lois's piece. Jimmy's already been assigned to join her for the gala.
Even so, Clark listens to the two of them go back and forth until, at last, Perry loses his patience and he orders the two of them out.
Now, Clark is awkwardly standing by a very angry Lois, who looks like she'll start breathing fire any second.
"I can't believe this! Just because that stuck-up playboy is crossing the river, I have to write about it!" She's moving now, marching through the building and shoving past anyone in her way -Clark quietly apologizes to them as they go. "He's the worst, you know! A reputation for nothing but drinking and sleeping around! What use could I have for an idiot like that in my piece?!"
She sits roughly and shuffles through her papers. "Damn the Waynes- Why'd he even show up in Metropolis?! Was Gotham not enough?!"
"Well, maybe he just wants to expand?" Clark tries in a timid voice; though, he feels none of it. He's used to Lois by this point. Her huffing and puffing and snappy comments.
"Bullshit! All of this is complete bullshit!" She slouches in her chair, her lips twisted down and her fingers gripping hard at her chair. She taps her foot, lets out a bone-deep breath, then relaxes into a more simmering anger. "Fine. If Perry wants me there, I'll be there. But it won't be any fun for either of us."
Clark blinks. "Uh, either of us?"
Lois's glare locks onto him. "You're going too, Smallville. No way I'm letting you stay here while I'm stuck with that rich asshole."
Great. Just when he thought he'd get a little more time in Gotham.
"Oh, but Jimmy-"
"You're both coming. And I hope you have something better than that old thing." She gestures to his suit. "This is as fancy as it gets. Even LexCorp can't top a Wayne Gala."
The event ends up being more ceremony than gala. At least, that's how it sounds in the article advertising the 'great success' of Wayne Enterprises. Even still, Lois insists he dresses up for it, party or not.
When he meets Lois at the bus station, she looks him over with judging eyes. "Really, Smallville? Is that the best you own?"
Clark feels genuine frustration rise over him as he looks down at his suit. "The tailor said I would look good in brown and cream." He even tries to tame his curls to the sides of his head; not that it really did anything. Unless he wants Superman's look, there's little he can do with his hair before his identity is at risk.
Or maybe he's just being paranoid.
Lois steps close and wrestles his suit jacket closed. He's about to protest when she whispers just under her breath, "You can see the symbol, Clark".
"I thought it was just me," He mutters, now helping her to cover the yellow, blue, and red suit under his clothes. He assumed it was only visible to his Kryptonian eyes. If he looks hard enough, any outfit will reveal his supersuit underneath.
Once the matter is relatively fixed and they've joined up with Jimmy, the three of them spend the rest of the bus ride going over Lois' notes.
"For all his fame and glory, there really isn't much on Wayne," Lois pulls out a few pictures and newspaper clippings she's stashed away in her purse. Each shows that gorgeous, dark-haired man. "As I said, he's a spoiled child at best. Parents died when he was young, he disappeared for a while, dropped out of medical school, and started...this."
As the headlines suggest, Bruce Wayne is quite the scandal. At least five different people have confessed to sharing a 'special night' with the man. A few have claimed to bear his child, but blood tests have disproven all of them so far. One depicts Wayne accidentally spilling a drink all over Lex Luthor at a birthday party -Clark swallows his laughter at Luthor's sour expression- and a secret kiss is pictured between him and an Oliver Queen. It looks more like a drunken slip to Clark, but he's starting to realize his first impression of Wayne isn't exactly the norm.
In that office, Wayne had seemed so...so determined. He understood his place in Gotham's hand and based on the pure number of charities he's hosted, Wayne knows how much his money can help. What was it he said to Mayor James? That Gotham 'stands on his shoulders'? He 'made' the city?
Clark can't quite believe that same person would waste his every waking moment drunk and falling over himself like this.
"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!"
"Over here, Sir! Please, tell us-"
"Mr. Wayne, is it true you've-"
If Clark were human, he would be crushed to death and trampled like a used wad of gum.
Even with his Kryptonian biology, it takes a good amount of concentration for Clark to avoid toppling over and crushing another innocent reporter. He's letting himself get pushed back and forth between reaching arms and moving legs. Everyone wants to get closer, to get their piece from Bruce Wayne.
And the damned man isn't paying attention to any of them.
"Wayne!" Lois calls out among them, her arm also held up. She tries to stand out, Clark knows, but there's little she can do in this situation. There is no quietly waiting for Wayne to see her or calling out the most attention-grabbing question. Here, she can only hope she gets lucky.
And she doesn't.
"Mr. Wayne! Will Wayne Enterprises be joining with LexCorp?!"
Wayne barely stops to speak into their recorders. "No, I won't." He smirks.
"Why is that?!"
"Mr. Wayne-"
"Because," Wayne swoops closer. "I hate bald people."
For half of a second, all of them go dead silent.
The noise picks up again two-fold.
"Please expand on that-"
"Including actor Partick Stewart-"
"Does this mean you won't be supporting Luthor's upcoming presidential campaign?"
Wayne laughs. The moment he fully stops walking, the crowd becomes more desperate to get close. "Ha! If Lexy actually runs for president, I'll start selling my bathwater! All proceeds will go to the opposing candidate."
He keeps walking.
Eventually, Wayne disappears inside of the new Wayne Enterprises office building, all manner of important people at his tail, and the rest of them are left to either scramble after or count their losses and hope they can get another chance after the tour.
"See what I mean?" Lois huffs. "Arrogant snob."
"I will say," Jimmy can't seem to hold back his laughter, "he's pretty entertaining."
Lois gives him a look. "Entertaining doesn't mean much when you want facts." She sighs, then packs up her recorder. "Come on. We'll tell Perry it was a bust. Serves him right for forcing us out here."
Clark blinks at her in surprise. "You're giving up?" When has Lois ever just given up on a lead?
"I got my quote." She's already marching for the bus station. "He hates bald people. Maybe I can make a gag near the end of my piece about it. But other than that, Wayne isn't worth another second here."
Jimmy laughs. "I don't know. His mug would look better in front of your article than Luthor's."
The two stop once they notice Clark hasn't followed.
"Don't tell me you want to stay, Smallville." Lois raises her brow at him.
He looks up towards the building, his eyes seeing through the solid walls and metal as Wayne continues his tour. He's pointing out cubicles and office spaces. Something about a daycare that Clark doesn't quite capture but he doesn't much care for it. Not if it won't help Lois.
"I'm coming," Clark says eventually, just as Wayne enters the top floor. He turns and walks back towards Lois, his disappointment quieted in the face of what obviously is a pointless matter. Lois already finished the paper and they're honestly only here for Perry, so there's no reason to hope for more.
Lois pats his shoulder as they all walk back to the bus station. "Hey, it could've been worse. At least we didn't have to be alone with the guy." She rolls her eyes. "Can you imagine? That jerk making eyes at me while I'm trying to do my damn job. Pisses me off..."
That sounds more like experience than assumptions. No wonder she doesn't like the man.
"Is your story going to be fine without it?" Clark sounds more uncertain than he feels. He knows Lois' skill is unmatched. She could pull together this story with shaky evidence at best -not that she would. Having some business rival's word won't make or break her in the slightest.
But still, he was half hoping to see more of Wayne. Maybe so Clark could really judge if the man he met before is more genuine than the playboy Wayne is rumored to be.
They're sitting at the station, the bus exactly five blocks away, when Clark hears it. Glass shatters. Screams fill the air from behind. A gasp, then a cry that sounds familiar.
Wayne.
"I have to pee!" Clark shouts, barely remembering to fake holding himself as he runs to the nearest bathroom.
"But the bus-"
Lois stops Jimmy's protest. "You know how his bladder gets. We'll just wait for him at the Planet."
Clark takes a mental note to thank Lois later as he's ripping his cream-colored shirt off and flying out the nearest window towards the new Wayne building.
The hardest part about catching a falling person isn't getting there in time. No, it's cradling them in a way that won't break their bones against his unmoving arms. Superman has taken great care in learning how exactly to roll someone's body into his grip without stopping the movement to a fatal degree. He holds the back with his elbow and cradles the neck with his gentle palm. The other hand takes care of the legs.
And just like that, Superman is flying in the air two hundred feet up. He looks down at Bruce Wayne, reading vital signs in a flash. His heartbeat is surprisingly calm for someone who was just falling to his death, but the trails of adrenaline can explain that. That, and the hints of alcohol.
"Are you alri-"
Clark gasps from a sudden wave of pain. He groans as sharp, needle-like pricks start from his chest and spread out. He's falling too, now, but Clark can't think past the unbearable sensation. It burns. Rao, it burns! He can hardly breathe through the flashes of white in his vision and the bile that threatens to rise up his throat.
He lands hard and Clark feels every bit of it. The air is punched from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. He tries to move, but his limbs only shake as something continues to burn him.
There lies Superman, trembling in the crater he made, unable to move.
"Superman!" A voice calls through the fog, sometime later. Or maybe it's immediate. Clark can't tell. Even as the pressure moves away, Clark can still hardly form a thought.
It hurts. Please, stop! It hurts!
"Superman! Get up! Kal-El!"
He sobs.
A hand touches his face, so gentle compared to the heat along his skin. He leans into it, searching for anything that will make this go away.
"It's gone! That rock is gone!" The voice assures him. "Shit...Superman?"
Clark blinks an eye open. It's leaving, the pain is leaving, but he can't even think of getting up yet. Not when he's shaking so badly.
Wayne is standing over him, concern etched into his eyes. "Superman?" The man cradles his right arm, where the fancy jacket has been scuffed and a thin trail of blood flows down his arm, dripping onto the floor
All things considered...he doesn't look like he's just fallen from a building. Clark can only be glad Wayne's alive.
"A-Are...Are you...okay?" Clark mutters as his strength slowly comes back to him. He's able to sit up now, even if it takes a few tries. The sunset's warm glow is like a drink of fresh water.
Wayne snorts at him, a sound seeming neither amused nor angry. "Jesus..." He's looking away from Clark, at the edge of the roof they must've crashlanded on. It glows green, even from so far away.
Kryptonite, an answer comes later than it should. Wayne had Kryptonite on him...somehow.
"You know what that is?" Wayne asks him. "Because it sure doesn't like you."
The word is at the tip of Clark's tongue, but he cuts it off just before he can utter it. The fewer people who know about it, the better.
"It's radioactive," Clark says, eventually standing. He dusts his cape off and attempts to do the same for Wayne's suit. The man shrugs out of his touch like a cat. "Are you alright, Mr. Wayne?"
"Someone tried to kill us." He does laugh this time, even if there's no humor in it. "I'm just fine."
Yes, someone did.
And that person knew how to do it.
Clark casts his gaze from Wayne -who, upon another good look, seems to have several cracked ribs he's supporting- to Gotham in the distance. He recalls Gordon mentioning something about the Gotham rogues eventually coming for him. Killing him.
"Fine." He whispers to himself. "I can be stubborn too."
Clark has never considered himself a very good detective, but he feels like a secret agent now. He's dressed in a large coat and his classes. Technically, he's Clark Kent, reporter on a mission from Perry, but that doesn't matter in this case. The assignment to interview Wayne about his latest rescue comes second to Clark's real goal.
Find The Batman.
His first lead takes him to a house fire. The actual fire is all but put out and police lights fill the area, officers looking for whoever started it. Apparently, the homeowners saw a strange figure with a blowtorch in a fireproof suit. They speak frantically to the leading detective, both wrapped in old blankets.
That leaves Clark with the poor child caught up in all of this. She seems unharmed, happily coloring in the backseat of a cop car, but she freezes up when Clark gets close.
"Hey." He kneels to make himself small. "My name is Clark Kent. I heard you saw Batman tonight."
The girl looks at him long and hard before nodding once.
"See, I'm looking for Batman right now. I kind of need his help. Do you think you could tell me what he looked like?"
Clark tried looking through newspapers for footage, but the best they had was a blurry picture of a dark shape. Most other civilians looked at him like he was insane for asking -how could asking about Batman be strange in Gotham?- and with the police more suspicious than Jimmy of his lunch thief, Clark only has so many places left to go.
Besides, children are known for being honest. Brutally so.
"I saw Batman!" She shouts, suddenly excited to talk about her hero. She sits up, then turns again to grab her drawing, before showing it off to Clark. In the poor light, Clark has to squint to make out what's on the picture.
And when he does see it, it's of little help.
"Is that...his horns?" He points to the stick figure of a drawing. It looks like an ant on two legs, colored in black and yellow. The girl nods, strangely enough. "And what's around him? Is that popcorn?"
"No!" She scoffs, offended. "It's the knives he threw!"
Knives. Clark looks again at the fluffy, cloud-like shapes surrounding Batman. "I see."
"Yeah! I was crying because Papa kept coughing and he wouldn't stop but-but then Batman flew us out! He threw knives at the bug guy and saved us!"
Alright, so Batman can fly. And isn't afraid of fire. Or, at least not enough so to deter him from swooping into the house while it was ablaze. That gives Clark a better description of the person -or, bat person- he's looking for. Likely someone with wings? And horns, apparently.
"Could I borrow that picture of yours? It would help me a lot." Clark doesn't reach for the picture. He simply waits as the girl looks at her artwork and then back at him.
"I really like this one..." She furrows her brows. "But I could draw you another one!" All prenotions are gone as she rips the paper in two and goes about scribbling out another picture of Batman. This time, Batman does not have the 'knives' surrounding him, but he looks no less like a bipedal ant.
Once the picture is handed over, Clark holds it carefully in his hands and rises to his feet. "Thank you. This is very kind of you. Now be good and stay safe, okay?" Clark steps away from the car and leaves the scene before Commissioner Gordon or another officer can spot him.
From here, Clark listens. Not for footsteps or the sounds of fighting -well, yes, but not normal fighting- and instead for sounds of bats.
He hears high-pitched noises, but most are the result of a rusty valve or a rat hurrying down the street. Every whine and squeak in Gotham fills Clark's ears and it overwhelms him quickly. He holds his head, stubbornly listening despite the ache that grows at his temples. Just another moment. Another second. He needs to find-
Screech!
"Ugh!"
There! Two erratic heartbeats beckon to Clark as he runs as quickly as he can -while keeping a human's speed- towards them. They grow closer and closer, accompanied by the crash of bricks and the snap of something important.
For a second, Bruce Wayne's cry fills his mind. The pitch, the intensity of it- it's as if he's back at the opening ceremony. But that moment ends quickly, replaced with a far more monstrous cry as a furry figure crashes down in the alley a few feet ahead of Clark. It twitches, snarls, then climbs onto its two legs and-
And wings. Claw-wings.
Clark holds up the drawing and compares the two figures. Large, pointed ears frame either side of the creature's wrinkled face. Its back arches forward dramatically to account for its long wings and shorter legs, which scratch against the concrete with every step. Ripped clothes hang off of the creature, just barely hiding whatever...parts it may have.
This is definitely a Batman if he's ever seen one.
"Um, Mr. Batman!" Clark rushes forward; though, not without caution. That other figure could be anywhere. "Batman? I'd like to speak-"
Batman makes a clicking sound, then his large head turns towards Clark. Dark, empty eyes meet his and all Clark can see is an animal. A wild, vicious animal.
"...Batman?"
The man -no- creature rises up, its sharp teeth jutting out as it sniffs the air again. It snarls at Clark, blood dripping front its mouth as it prepares to jump for him, and Clark only has a moment to prepare for it before-
A kick throws it to the side. The other figure, one far more human-looking, lands in the flickering light. He stands, a dark cape covering most of his body except for a yellow symbol of a...a bat. The same on Gordon's signal.
Oh! This is Batman!
Clark sighs in relief. "Batman, I've been looking-"
"Go!" The human shouts, his voice low and stern.
Another screech comes from the creature and Batman does a quite impressive job at redirecting its charge into the nearest wall. It slumps over.
"I know this isn't the best time, but I really need to speak with you! You see, I'm Clark Kent from the Daily Planet."
Batman ignores him in favor of wrapping the creature's limbs with a thick rope. He tests the give, then stands straight again.
"...I want to know your thoughts on Superman?"
Something shoots out of Batman's raised arm and in seconds, he's lifted up into the sky by what appears to be a grapel. His cape flares out as he swings to another building and disappears.
But even as he leaves, Clark concentrates on that heartbeat. He picks up running again, his ears following nothing but that steady bum bum, bum bum.
He'll talk to Batman whether the vigilante wants him to or not.