Chapter Text
Clark grabbed a fistful of popcorn and tried to eat it in one go, but some spilled onto the fluffy blanket covering his and Lois's legs and onto the living room carpet. Lois gave him a sideways look and arched an eyebrow before grabbing one of the kernels and throwing it at Clark’s face.
"Stop getting popcorn all over my floor!" she complained, picking up the rest of the spilled popcorn and placing it on the empty plate on the coffee table in front of them.
"I'm sorry," Clark said with a laugh, his mouth still full, earning a glare from his friend.
A few weeks ago, Lois had confessed to him and Jimmy that she hadn’t seen most of the iconic comedies and chick flicks. So, he’d suggested they start having movie nights at her place whenever they had free time. It was rare for all three of them to be available on the same night, hence why it was just the two of them at the moment, but the shared mission to educate Lois on good entertainment was enough motivation to make it work.
"You are totally cleaning all of this before you leave," Lois said, gesturing around the room with both hands. There was an open pizza box on her dining table, a few cups on the coffee table, and he’d accidentally spilled chocolate ice cream on the counter earlier. He rolled his eyes but nodded.
"I'm being serious!" she said, playfully elbowing his arm. Clark played along, pretending she’d actually been able to move him.
"Yeah, yeah. Can we please focus on the movie? This is literally the best part." He pointed at the screen and shifted on the couch, pulling Lois’s blanket over himself completely.
She sighed and turned her attention to the screen, accepting her fate. Clark had somehow convinced her to watch Legally Blonde , a film he was sure she’d overanalyze and criticize. Which was perfect, because it meant they could talk about it afterward over more ice cream.
They watched quietly as the main character stood before the judge and confronted the witness. Clark was just waiting for Lois to chime in, and, just as he predicted, the silence didn’t last long.
"It makes no sense." Lois crossed her arms and sat up straight, focusing on the scene so she could properly complain about it after the movie was over.
“And there it is,” Clark said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"No, but how?" She tilted her head and frowned at the screen, almost as if it had personally offended her. "I mean, I get that this is fiction and all, but this is borderline unprofessional and just plain silly."
“What?” Clark laughed, furrowing his eyebrows and giving her a questioning look. “Okay, come on, Lois, this is just a movie. And Elle did a great job anyway, didn’t she?” Clark didn’t miss the tiny smile that appeared on her face when the crowd began cheering for the main character.
“I guess.” She shrugged and grabbed the popcorn bowl. When she noticed only a few kernels were left, she huffed and passed the bowl to Clark.
“Thank you.” He accepted it. He brought the bowl of popcorn to his lips and tilted it, trying to pour the last few kernels straight into his mouth.
“Yeah, whatever. Eat the cold kernels like the little weirdo you are.”
Clark didn’t take it to heart and just kept munching on the little crunchy bits. After their friendly breakup a couple of months ago, he’d realized he connected better with friend Lois than with girlfriend Lois. They still had a lot of fun hanging out, but now they could joke more freely without the ever-present worry of upsetting or offending a partner. He found Lois's attitude toward him amusing, as she treated him and Jimmy like they’d known each other forever. He loved that about her, and he really couldn’t imagine a life without her in it.
They finished the movie, and Clark was pleasantly surprised that Lois had actually enjoyed it. He’d expected a lot more criticism, but she’d done her best not to apply real-life logic to such a lighthearted story. Clark would even say that he was proud of her.
Lois, as always, ended up helping clean the living room. Their movements were fluid and natural, with even a hint of domesticity in the mix. The silence was pleasant, and it wasn’t until Clark started doing the dishes that Lois spoke again.
“So, how was Gotham?” she asked, leaning against the counter and eating the ice cream she’d served herself in one of her favorite coffee mugs. Clark had gifted it to her when they were still dating, and it was a reminder of how well they understood each other.
“Well, you know. Same as last time, and every time before that. Crime on every corner, polluted air, gloomy weather. Just lovely.”
On the rare nights when nothing was happening on the streets of Metropolis, Clark occasionally paid quick visits to Gotham. He could hear people asking for help every night, so he figured it would be really helpful if he lent a hand.
Lois made an acknowledging sound and took a big spoonful of his chocolate mint ice cream.
“What about your new friend? Any luck with getting him to notice you?” Clark sucked in a breath through his teeth at Lois’s questions, wondering how much he should say to avoid coming across as pathetic.
“Kinda?” He ended up sounding hesitant and uncertain without meaning to. Maybe Lois would take pity on him and change the topic, but of course, that didn’t happen.
“Well? I want to hear all the details. You know we can’t talk about it in front of Jimmy.”
Clark considered it for a second. Jimmy would probably get too excited and ask him to introduce him to his new friend . He wouldn’t even call the guy an acquaintance yet, but Lois liked to call him his friend just to tease him about the little progress he’d made in approaching him.
“You’re right.” He gave in easily, as he usually did. He always folded so quickly when it came to Lois.
“To be honest, I don’t think I’ve made any progress,” he confessed, finishing the dishes and turning off the tap. He turned around and leaned against the sink, facing Lois.
“Oh!” He snapped his fingers as he remembered something. “He actually talked to me this time!”
Lois opened her eyes wide and nodded, genuinely impressed.
“He said, ‘Get out of my city,’ and then just left,” he admitted, disappointment in his voice. Lois winced at his words, mindlessly stirring the melting ice cream in her mug.
“Wow, rude much? You spend weeks trying to talk to him, and that’s all he says?”
Clark nodded in agreement. He looked away from Lois and focused on the bananas sitting on the counter nearby. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to people brushing off his shameless friendliness, it was just that he felt so drawn to the Vigilante that he wanted to know more about him. It was hard when the person refused to talk to him and even worse when he actively tried to avoid him.
“To be fair, what else could you expect from a vigilante from Gotham, of all places? Who knows what he’s seen. I wouldn’t want to work there, that’s for sure,” Lois said, sharing her opinion. Clark found himself agreeing once again.
“Well, he has good intentions.” Clark felt the need to defend him, even though he hadn’t had a proper conversation with him yet. “He’s trying to make a difference. He goes out every night and fights crime basically on his own. From what I’ve noticed, the police aren’t very competent over there.”
Lois narrowed her eyes and examined Clark’s face, looking for something.
“You seem to have taken a liking to him. Are you sure it’s not just a personal challenge to prove you can befriend the most antisocial man in the country?”
Clark stuttered a bit, and the smug look on Lois’s face annoyed him just a little.
“Can you blame me? I’d give anything to formally interview him. Can you imagine? ‘Exclusive interview with the Batman’ or ‘The Man in the Shadows, Protector of Gotham—the Batman.’ ” He made a sweeping gesture with his arms, like a showman unveiling a big news story.
“God, you’re so corny,” Lois mocked affectionately.
Clark shrugged. He had made a good name for himself as a journalist, corny headlines and all.
“The Batman, huh.” Lois sipped her now-melted ice cream and seemed to think about it for a moment.
Clark hadn’t been able to get that man out of his head for weeks. He was curious about everything. Besides helping his city, what else drove him to become a vigilante? Did he have a tragic backstory, or was he just like Clark—kind-hearted? Who was he? What did he do for a living? His tech and gadgets were seriously impressive, so he had to be someone wealthy to afford all of it.
From what Clark had gathered, he was a strong man without any superpowers. Human. Breakable. Fragile, in the big scheme of things. But that didn’t stop him from putting himself out there and taking on entire groups of criminals alone. He moved with an efficiency and ease that only someone with serious training, and deep motivation, could show. He almost made it look easy.
“Hello? Earth to Clark Kent?” Lois snapped her fingers, pulling him out of his thoughts. The mental image of Batman quickly faded from his mind.
“So, what’s his voice like? Is he tall? What color are his eyes?”
Clark sighed and looked down at his shoes. The image of that man crept back into his head, and he found it strange how easily his mind could conjure such a detailed picture of someone he’d barely interacted with.
“His voice is… raspy, low,” Clark said, closing his eyes as the moment Batman had finally spoken replayed in his mind. “He talks in whispers, monotonous, but intense. Like every word is meant to carry weight.”
Lois didn’t say anything, but her focused stare made it easy for Clark to keep talking.
“I’m a little taller than him, but when he actually addresses you, he’s got this air of quiet confidence. He doesn’t make eye contact, at all, but not in a shy way, you know? I haven’t been able to see his eye color clearly, but I’m pretty sure they’re some kind of light shade.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Wait- what’s with that look?”
Lois quickly looked away, caught red-handed.
“No, nothing.”
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. Come on, Lois, just say it.”
She tilted her head side to side, clearly debating how to phrase her thoughts without hitting Clark right in the ego.
“You seem to have analyzed him really well,” she said slowly, a teasing smile forming. “Almost like… you think about him for an above-average amount of time.”
Clark didn’t deny it right away, after all, there was nothing wrong with analyzing his interactions with the enigmatic man. Even if no one would call Batman a superhero and he was more of a vigilante, he was still doing good and helping people. That made it easy for Clark to think of him as an equal, someone he could relate to, who probably shared some of the same motivations that drove Clark to help others.
“If I’m going to be visiting Gotham often, I want to be on good terms with their main protector.” Clark said honestly. It was true he wanted to get to know him better, but he wanted to do it the right way. He didn’t want to offend him by his presence, though he was willing to cross that delicate line if it meant preventing people from getting hurt.
“He probably doesn’t want you taking all the attention.” Lois theorized. “That would make him look weak compared to you and your ridiculously impressive powers. It could create distrust among the citizens of Gotham, they might start questioning whether he’s really competent enough to handle the city on his own. It could also lower the morale of the law enforcement there. He might even feel betrayed if the city begins trusting an outsider more than him. I don’t know.”
Lois folded her arms and tapped her chin thoughtfully as she listed the possible reasons. Her voice sounded more fascinated than worried, almost like she was already imagining the story she could get out of it.
“I was thinking along the same lines, but hearing it put that way… now I feel bad.” Clark cringed, conflicted but still convinced that getting involved was the right choice. When he really thought about it, prioritizing people’s safety over one person’s feelings made sense. The problem was that he couldn’t always be there for Gotham, which meant Batman remained the city’s primary protector. Clark knew he couldn’t risk undermining the image of the person who showed up night after night for the people.
“Sometimes you need the perspective of an outsider. Your drive to help others can blind you to things like this,” Lois explained, and Clark could only nod in agreement.
“Just don’t annoy him too much. Maybe try not to be too flashy. I know it’s not really your style, but you could always help and leave without sticking around to interact with the people you save,” she offered, giving him some practical advice. Even if it felt a little weird to Clark, it was worth a shot. “And since you usually visit Gotham at night, it shouldn’t be too hard to stay under the radar.”
“Come on, I don’t annoy him!” Clark protested, irritation creeping in at the indirect accusation. He was self-aware enough to admit he might be a bit more pushy than necessary, but it wasn’t like he was trying to get on Batman’s nerves. As for the second part of Lois’s advice, Clark knew she had a point. It would be difficult not to offer his usual words of reassurance or connect with the people he saved. That was one of the things he loved most about being Superman, but he was sure he could do it. He could avoid being spotted or being recognized. His super speed would be really handy in that scenario anyway.
“Sure, sure.”
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.
.
Bruce pulled on his mask and glanced at his reflection in the desk mirror. A thin layer of dust covered the glass, so he swiped his gloved fingers across it.
A familiar weight settled in his stomach. He knew what it was and tried his best to ignore it, but the life he led would never let him. It was the anticipation of what the night might bring, the unknown possibilities. What kind of situation would he face? What kind of criminal would he confront? Even though three years had passed since he decided to accept the shadows and become one with them, Bruce was certain he would never shake that feeling.
On cue, his body trembled, craving the addictive rush of adrenaline he was used to feeding it. He swung onto his bike and pressed the ignition button, watching the dashboard symbols light up to confirm everything was in order. A soft, steady pulse hummed through the frame, but no sound escaped. He could feel it more than hear it, a faint tremor weaving up through his hands, his legs, and settling in his chest. He took a deep breath, letting the sensation ease his nerves.
He took off, heading toward the train station’s exit, already visualizing the route he’d take that night. Instinctively, he glanced up at the night sky, searching for the signal that warned everyone he was out there, in the shadows, always ready to spring into action if needed.
The first few hours passed in a blur, as no one had managed to lay a hand on him yet. So he allowed himself to take his time to look for a bigger threat than petty muggers and disgusting creeps who preyed on women. With practiced ease, he had climbed a random building’s fire escape and now stood at the edge of the rooftop, surveying the maze of alleyways and distant streets made visible by the building’s height.
Suddenly, the hairs on his skin stood on end and he looked to his right just in time to catch a man landing by his side, a prudent distance away. That could only mean one thing…
“Busy night?” Superman asked, hands on hips, wearing that friendly expression Bruce had no patience for. Bruce didn’t answer. Instead, he looked away, letting the silence stretch until it became awkward. He wasn’t in the mood to engage with the alien because, for some reason that puzzled Bruce, Superman seemed intent on drawing him out. Bruce wasn’t naive, he knew the game. Many who crossed his path tried the same routine, eager to get closer for their own agendas.
He was trying to get close.
The few times Bruce had been out in public for the events Alfred insisted on, there were always people hovering, trying to make him talk more than necessary. They wanted to be in his good graces, but only for their own benefit. Bruce knew he needed better social skills if he wanted easier access to certain things blocked by endless walls of social rules he didn’t care about. Still, he found it all irritating, and Superman was no exception.
Clearing his throat, Superman shifted his gaze to follow Bruce’s. The streets were quiet, to an unnerving degree. Bruce knew he’d have to move on to other areas if he wanted to get anything done for the rest of the night. He wasn’t about to waste time entertaining Superman.
“Ok,” Superman said after a pause, dragging the word out a little too long. “How did you come up with that?”
Bruce frowned in confusion and followed his gaze to where Superman was pointing. It was the Bat-Signal, cutting through the thick, polluted clouds that always hung over Gotham.
After realizing Bruce wasn’t going to answer, Superman kept talking.
“Do you manually turn it on every night? Or does it go off at a specific time?”
Bruce looked at him without saying a word. There was no point in answering such dumb questions, everything about it felt like a waste of time. He turned away and faced the other man, noticing how Superman’s face subtly lit up, hopeful that he’d finally gotten Batman to give in. But Bruce just headed for the fire escape, stopping just beside Superman, their shoulders nearly brushing but not quite touching.
He had to look up to meet the other man’s gaze, forcing himself to hold eye contact as he spoke.
“Leave.” That was all he said. If Bruce felt a flicker of satisfaction at the defeated look on Superman’s face, who could blame him? Maybe he just had to keep telling him to leave him alone. Didn’t that guy have better things to do than hover around like a fly? Bruce would bet his fortune there were far more urgent crises around the world that needed Superman’s attention.
Bruce didn’t look back, just made his way down the stairs and jumped to the floor of the dirty alleyway. He got on his bike, and just as he was about to take off, Superman landed in front of him. He almost looked surprised at having acted on impulse, but Bruce thought it was perfectly in character.
Superman politely stepped aside, and just when it seemed like he was going to say something, Bruce pushed down on the pedal and drove off, reaching high speed in an effort to lose him. He was more than sure Superman could locate him again to keep pestering him, but he hoped the guy would finally take the hint and leave him alone. As his almost nonexistent luck would have it, that wasn’t the case.
Just as Bruce was parking his bike behind some dumpsters, Superman appeared by his side again. This time, Bruce let out a low grunt of annoyance and sat back on the leather seat, ready to flee once more.
“Wait, wait!” Superman said, standing in front of him again .
“Move,” Bruce ordered. He was fooled for a second by Superman’s visible hesitation, thinking he might actually step aside. But instead, Superman stood his ground
“Not before you tell me why you won't talk to me.”
Bruce really didn’t have the patience for this kind of pointless conversation. Was Superman secretly a ten-year-old? There was no reason to be upset just because someone wasn’t melting under his charming smile and cheery, deep voice. Besides pride and arrogance, what else could possibly explain Superman’s ridiculous insistence?
“What could I possibly do for you that’s worth following me like a lost dog?” Bruce asked, eyes narrowing. His grip on the handlebars tightened as the frustration inside him kept building.
“What? No, nothing. It’s just-” Superman scratched the back of his head and gestured with his other hand, clearly searching for the right words. “I don’t know. I just thought we might have a lot in commo-”
“I doubt that,” Bruce cut in.
But that didn’t shake Superman’s confidence.
“You might say that, but I think we do. You like helping people, I like helping people.” He pointed at Bruce, then at himself.
Even if Superman couldn’t see it through the mask, Bruce arched an eyebrow. He was genuinely starting to question the alien’s sanity. Superman had friends, plenty of them, within the self-proclaimed Justice Gang or whatever they were calling themselves now. There was no reason for him to bother someone like Bruce. They were opposites in every sense of the word.
“Look,” Superman continued, “what I’m trying to say is that you don’t meet people like us very often, you know?” He smiled awkwardly, and his pronounced dimples appeared, making his face look even friendlier, almost innocent. Bruce was forced to look at that smile every time he analyzed footage taken from his contacts and other sources. It was almost as if he always found reasons to smile. Smile at kids, at adults, at Bruce all those nights he had tried to start a conversation with him. He’d even heard his laugh before, in one interview he’d managed to get his hands on. He still needed to dig deeper into Clark Kent and Lois Lane, who seemed to be the only ones landing exclusive interviews with Superman.
“So?” It’s all Bruce said, feigning ignorance to whatever Superman was circling around.
“Do you wanna... I mean, only if you want to! Be friends, I guess?” Superman’s tone was uncertain, the confidence slipping from his voice, and that only made Bruce more suspicious of his intentions.
“You want to... be friends.” Bruce spoke slowly, deliberately, hoping the other man might hear how absurd that sounded out loud. They weren’t kids. They were men accustomed to confronting threats most people couldn’t imagine. The word friends didn’t mean much in their world. Maybe Superman could claim he was “friends” with half the planet, but Bruce knew better.
He didn’t have time for friends. He wasn’t even sure if he could trust someone besides Alfred and Dory. Certainly not someone as unpredictable as Superman.
“Yeah! I think I would like that.” Superman smiled again, shy this time, but sincere.
Bruce didn’t get it. Superman clearly had no idea who he was. There was no angle, no play for money, fame, or power. From a psychological perspective, it was plausible the guy was just... lonely. Being an alien and a public figure probably made it hard to relate to most people. And while Bruce wasn’t from another planet, he understood that kind of isolation.
Still.
“I don’t have time for that,” he said flatly, no longer bothering to hide his hostility. “I think I’ve been very clear. I want you out of my city.”
Superman crossed his arms, lowering his gaze, likely thinking through his next move. Bruce’s eyes, unintentionally, lingered on the other man’s biceps. The way they flexed with the motion was... interesting, for lack of a better word.
"I have to admit... that I probably sound pretty childish right now, huh." Superman confessed, a trace of embarrassment slipping through.
"I'm being serious," Bruce said, his tone edged with warning.
"So am I!" Superman actually looked offended, and had the nerve to sound sincere. Bruce switched his bike back on, but before taking off, he made one last attempt to shut that down.
"I have better things to do than play friends with you. There are places I should be right now, and I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who need your help somewhere other than Gotham." His voice was flat, unyielding. "I have a job to do. You should focus on doing yours."
With that, Bruce took off, missing the expression that crossed Superman’s face as the engine roared to life behind him.
.
.
.
“So his eyes are blue,” Clark said, tossing a stack of documents onto his desk and sinking into his desk chair that was just a little too small for him.
“Good morning to you too,” Lois replied, taking a sip of her truly atrocious coffee, if it could even be called that. “Remind me, who are we talking about this time?” She glanced at her monitor, trying to play it casual as she discreetly closed a browser tab. Clark pretended not to notice, deciding it was better to save that question for later.
“You know who I’m talking about.” Bruce lowered his voice as someone three desks down glanced their way. Lois’s eyes lit up with recognition, and an amused smile tugged at her lips.
“So you went and annoyed him again?” she teased, her grin widening at the sight of Clark’s frown.
“No, I didn’t,” Clark protested, though Lois’s expression said otherwise. “Okay, fine, I did look for him last night and got him to talk to me, but I didn’t annoy him, per se.” He defended himself, deliberately leaving out how annoyed Batman had seemed the night before.
“Sure. Let’s say I believe you. What did he say this time?” Lois leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. Clark was grateful to have someone he could talk to about this stuff, though he sometimes didn’t appreciate just how mischievous Lois could be.
“Uh…” Clark hesitated, weighing his options. In the end, he decided honesty was the best policy. He’d been told he was a terrible liar anyway, and Lois had this way of making people open up.
“He told me to stay away, and that he didn’t have time for... friends.” Now that he said it out loud, it sounded ridiculously stupid. Clark wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say something so silly, to Batman, of all people. At this point, he was pretty sure he was asking for a beating.
Clark was met with silence and an incredulous expression.
“You asked Batman to be your… friend?” Lois looked at him like he was crazy, but also like he was the most entertaining thing in the world at that moment. She let out a small laugh but softened when she noticed the embarrassment on his face and the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.
“Shut up, Lois,” he muttered, turning away and pulling his old laptop out of his bag. He set it on the desk and powered it on; the fans inside immediately whirred to life with a worrying hum. He really needed to invest in a new one soon. He opened word and his latest project popped up on the screen.
“I’m sorry.” Lois’s tone didn’t sound sorry at all, but Clark let it slide, because he knew asking Batman to be friends was a dumb move.
“So his eyes are blue. What else did you find out?” Of course Lois was just as curious as he was, probably more since she hadn’t had the opportunity to chat with Batman herself. Clark couldn’t think of anything specific, so he just shrugged, offering a helpless shake of his head.
Lois rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her coffee in three big gulps. She slammed the empty mug onto her desk with enough force to catch Jimmy’s attention.
Jimmy pushed off his desk with both hands, letting the chair’s wheels glide him smoothly across the floor in their direction.
“What’s up, people? What are we whispering about?” He grinned, his gaze drifting to the side, clearly pleased with the attention he was getting from a few girls across the room. Lois and Clark exchanged an unamused look. Still, Clark wasn’t bothered. If anything, Jimmy had unintentionally saved him from Lois’s relentless questioning.
Not that he would’ve had much of an answer. He still wasn’t sure what, exactly, he’d taken away from his encounter with Batman the night before. After their brief conversation, he’d flown straight to Africa to assist civilians caught in the middle of a coup. He’d worked through the night and managed, at best, three hours of sleep. Which meant he hadn’t exactly had the time, or the mental clarity, to process anything about the vigilante.
“Nonya,” Lois said flatly, deciding the conversation was over. She definitely wanted to know more, but involving more people would only make things messy. Clark shot her a discreet, grateful look, then turned to Jimmy with a smile..
“We were talking about Lois and the interview she scored with Bruce Wayne.” Lois gave a slight nod at Clark’s explanation, and Jimmy seemed convinced, though visibly excited.
“No way! How did that even happen?! That dude never does interviews.” Lois grinned with pride, flipping her hair in an exaggerated motion that was so unlike her usual self it made Clark smile. He could tell she was nervous, even if she didn’t show it, but he had no doubt she’d crush it.
“Connections, baby,” she said, grabbing a pen and tapping Jimmy on the nose. He batted it away with a laugh.
“Damn, you’re so lucky… I would do anything to interview someone as important as Bruce Wayne.” Jimmy crossed his arms and whistled, impressed.
“Did I just hear Bruce Wayne?!” Cat called out, hurrying over from the printer across the room. Her heels clacked loudly against the floor, and her excitement was obvious from the way she waved her hands as she approached. She came to a stop right in front of them and gave a little hop, letting out a high-pitched shriek that earned a few curious glances. “Please, tell me everything.”
Lois couldn’t help but chuckle at Cat’s enthusiastic antics. Of course she’d go wild over Bruce Wayne, he was exactly her type of story. As a columnist who thrived on gossip, Cat lived for this kind of scoop. And there was nothing juicier than a reclusive billionaire finally agreeing to an interview.
“Lois scored an interview with him.” Clark explained, pointing at his friend.
“Oh my God! No way! How did this even happen?! Girl, you are sooo lucky!” Cat dropped into the empty chair beside Lois, grabbing her hands and shaking them with way too much enthusiasm.
Lois let her have her moment, as nothing could ruin her mood today. The interview was probably going to be one of the biggest of her career. Sure, she’d interviewed Superman a few times, but Clark was never shy about sharing. He liked to talk, to open up, to explain what he was thinking. Bruce Wayne, on the other hand? Practically a ghost. Aside from his tragic past, people knew almost nothing about him, except that he was the living embodiment of awkwardness and, according to her research, severely lacking in social skills.
“I would give anything to see him in person,” Cat said, placing a hand on her cheek and sighing dreamily.
“I mean, I know he’s a billionaire and all, but what’s so great about him?” Jimmy asked. Cat’s smile only grew at the chance to explain. Clark wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about either, at least not from a personal standpoint, but he understood the significance of it all. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Cat so excited?
“Besides being one of the richest men in the country, he’s hot ,” Cat said, gesturing dramatically with her hands. Her eyes practically sparkled with excitement. When her colleagues responded with confused, unimpressed looks, she rolled her eyes in disbelief. Without missing a beat, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her tight leather skirt and quickly typed something in. A few seconds later, she held up the screen triumphantly, shaking it for emphasis.
“Look at him!” Cat insisted. The three of them leaned in to examine the photo. Jimmy was the first to lean back in his chair, clearly disinterested. Lois followed a second later, giving her friend a flat, unamused stare.
Clark was the last to look away. He studied the man’s features carefully, taking his time to absorb every detail in the photo. Someone had captured Bruce walking up the steps of a church, glancing back at the crowd gathered behind the security barriers, people watching the city’s elite exit their fancy cars. The photo was dated around the time the former mayor of Gotham had been murdered, so Clark guessed Bruce was attending the funeral.
Bruce looked straight at the camera, an almost imperceptible scowl softening the space between his brows. He wasn’t as timid as Clark had expected, less reserved than in other photos he’d seen before. His hair framed his face perfectly, highlighting a sharp jawline and a striking nose. But what truly caught Clark’s attention were his piercing blue eyes. His pupils were contracted, making them appear smaller, and the shade of blue reminded him of the soft hue of the sky just before dawn. His skin was pale, almost sickly, clearly unused to the outdoors.
God, did Clark have a thing for blue eyes and pale skin?
“Clark?” Lois asked, pulling him back to reality.
“What’s up?” He quickly looked away, unable to hide that Lois had startled him. She gave him a look he couldn’t quite read, but the embarrassment of being caught staring for a moment too long made him ignore it.
“What?” he asked, glancing at the others in front of him. Jimmy looked confused, while Cat’s smile lingered, though now it held a knowing edge.
“Pretty hoooot , right?” she asked Clark directly, still holding up the screen. She started swiping through the images, and Clark found himself drawn once again to Bruce’s face.
“He is attractive, yes,” he conceded, glancing at Lois and letting out a small huff at her probing gaze.
“What? I can’t lie.” Clark shrugged off everyone’s reactions, deciding he’d had enough. It was time to focus on his project if he wanted to get it to Perry on time. Jimmy, still perched on his desk chair, scooted closer and leaned over Clark’s shoulder.
“What’chu working on?” he asked, quickly skimming the draft. Clark glanced back, surprised, and hastily clicked over to another tab, hoping Jimmy hadn’t seen anything. “What?! You’re writing an article about Batman? Please don’t tell me you actually scored an interview with him because I would lose it!”
“God, I wish,” Clark said without thinking, earning a disapproving glare from Lois. “I mean, I’m just writing something general about him.” Jimmy nodded thoughtfully, resting a hand on his chin as he considered it.
“Wait, wouldn’t it be easy for you to contact him? You’re a superhero, he’s a vigilante, same difference,” Jimmy said, wiggling his eyebrows at him.
“Uh…” Clark glanced at Lois, silently asking for help. But she just sighed, shook her head, and went back to her work on the computer.
“I don’t think he’d want anything to do with me,” Clark admitted, accepting the reality. At least Jimmy had the decency to look a little bummed for him.
“True, I can see that. You reek of positivity and kindness. From what I’ve read, and according to my research, Batman’s not exactly known for those things,” Jimmy said, scratching his neck and staring at the ceiling as if it might offer some answers.
“That’s true,” Cat added, still scrolling through pictures of Bruce.
“I don’t reek,” Clark grumbled.
“Gosh, you whine too much,” Lois complained, and the others laughed lightheartedly.
Just as Clark was about to protest again, Perry stepped out of his office, pulled his big cigar from his mouth, and shot them all a sharp glare.
“Less chatting, more working.”