Chapter Text
From Bruce's diary: what I know about Superman so far:
1. Superman has a thing for brunettes ( Lois Lane.)
2. Anyone can notice that the glasses he is wearing are fake.
3. His only covering is his glasses. How do people not notice this? Is this another power?
4. He is from Kansas. (note to self, investigate the Kents and family history, there may be others like him.)
6. He tends to bond with adrenaline junkies.
7. Easily manipulated (?)
8. Superman is powerful. Invulnerable? Virtually Immortal? Immune to bombs.
Luckily Alfred didn't read Bruce's diary, otherwise, he would have had a heart attack from that last note. It was true that the fact that Superman was invulnerable was well known. But Bruce had seen it first hand, thanks to a bomb he stole from terrorists and threw at Superman.
How did it happen? Eh, funny story. Things went more or less like this…
“This is necessary?”
Bruce fidgeted with his tie, the silk smooth beneath Selina's lingering fingers. Her breath was hot against his ear as she leaned in close, voice dropping low and sultry.
"Relax, Bruce. Keep it simple - ask him to lunch, compliment the food, and let him do the talking."
Bruce nodded, eyes drifting to the window where Metropolis' skyline beckoned beyond the horizon. Metropolis was so different from Gotham. He was happier, for one thing. Brighter, more cared for. He did not doubt that criminals were hiding under the facade of the happiest city in America, but Metropolis in general lacked that feeling of abandonment and sadness that Gotham always carried with it.
He shouldn't be in Metropolis. His place was Gotham. Gotham, which without him had no protection, was left in disarray, with criminals who would have taken advantage of his absence and...
"Bruce?"
He blinked, turning back to Selina. "Right, lunch. I can do that."
Selina smiled, patting his chest. "That's the spirit. Now go get him, tiger."
Bruce took a deep breath and walked into the Daily Planet bullpen, Clark's warm smile greeting him from across the room. It was time to focus - Gotham could wait for a few days.
Bruce strode up to Clark's desk, back straight and smile plastered on his face. This was just another business meeting, another Wayne Enterprises deal - he could do this.
Too bad Bruce hated going to those too and often deserted them. Oh well, he'll find something to say.
"Good morning, Mr.Kent! It's wonderful to see the Daily Planet offices. I must say, your paper's sales numbers are quite impressive for its market share and demographic."
A throat cleared sharply behind Bruce. He turned to find an older man glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest.
"Who are you?" the man asked gruffly.
"I'm Bruce Wayne." He extended his hand which the man pointedly didn’t take.
"Perry White. I'm the editor-in-chief here. Now what exactly are you implying about my paper's numbers?"
"Oh, well-" Bruce's mind scrambled. Selina had told him to find something to say to break the ice (or something like that, he wasn't sure if he was listening to her or if he was humming I'm not okay in his mind). He had chosen the wrong thing to say.
Before he could dig himself deeper, Lois Lane appeared at Perry's side, laying a hand on his arm.
"Perry, I'm sure Mr. Wayne meant no harm. He probably appreciates that our focus on hard-hitting journalism helps sell papers, even with competition from those tabloid rags in Gotham."
Perry harrumphed but seemed to relax slightly.
"Yes, that's it exactly!" Bruce said with relief. "Your investigative work is brilliant. I'm sure your crime reporting alone boosts circulation."
Lois smiled. "Well, we do strive for excellence here at the Daily Planet."
She shot Bruce a knowing look and he felt himself stand a bit straighter. Maybe he could do this after all.
No, he couldn’t. Lois Lane hated him. Perry White hated him. Probably, Clark thought Bruce was a weirdo.
While he was in a downward spiral, Selina chimed in, "Oh, Mr. Wayne is often tactless, but he thinks very highly of the work of the Daily Planet."
"He does, otherwise he'd fire everyone, wouldn't he?" the smile Lois Lane smiled made her look like a shark. But Selina was a cat and cats weren't afraid of anything,
"Firing is the last thing on his mind. He's interested in learning more. Maybe someone would be kind enough to give him a guided tour today..." Selina looked at Bruce, raising her eyebrows. It was the signal. Bruce coughed, "I would appreciate Mr. Kent showing me how you work here."
"Clark? Why?" Lois Lane seemed surprised as she asked it.
"Because he is a planetary threat that needs to be kept under control."
Too bad he couldn't say it. So Bruce placed his hand on Clark's desk and looked at him, "I'm a fan of his work.”
He should be batting his eyelashes coquettishly, but Bruce just stared at the other man, committing every telling detail to memory. He didn't see Selina's slight anxiety, nor Lois Lane's scepticism. There was only Clark Kent. Clark didn't flinch under his gaze.
He smiled warmly at Bruce, "Do you want a tour? I'd be happy to show you around."
Bruce's heart leapt. Time alone with Clark! Precisely as planned.
"That would be perfect, thank you."
As they walked away, Bruce heard Selina's voice behind him, already working her charms on Lois.
"That brooch is exquisite, darling. Is it an heirloom?"
He smiled to himself. Selina could handle the reporters. Now his focus needed to be Clark.
As they entered the bullpen, Clark launched into an enthusiastic overview of the paper's history and operations. Bruce tried to listen and was tempted to correct him several times. However, Selina and Harley had told him that no one liked to be corrected. Some people wanted to think they were the best at what they did, and being shown otherwise didn't increase favorability. Playing silly helped.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that last part," Bruce admitted.
"It's just...you're excellent at what you do. I'd love to learn more about your work. Maybe over lunch sometime?"
Ah! See, Selina? He listened now and then!
Clark's eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "I'd like that, Mr. Wayne."
“Bruce.”
“What?”
“You can call me Bruce.”
Being called by your first name was a sign of emotional closeness, right? It should make Clark Kent feel more comfortable. Instead, Bruce must have done something wrong if the other said to him, "Ah, we're at work. I'd rather not."
"Oh, I see..."
"But I'd like to go to lunch! Especially because there are five minutes left until my lunch break."
At least something was going right. Maybe Clark was just too polite to refuse, or maybe he thought that the social power imbalance between them forced him to accept a lunch invitation even if he didn’t want to.
Um, Bruce will have to try to make lunch enjoyable. He'll have to make him talk. Clark seemed to enjoy chatting.
Clark led Bruce down a hallway lined with framed front pages documenting the Daily Planet's biggest scoops. Bruce's eyes scanned each headline, feigning interest.
As they passed by a large potted plant in the entrance hall, something caught Bruce's eye. Was that a wire? He slowed his pace and peered closer. Hidden among the leaves and stems was a small black device unmistakably out of place.
Bruce's blood ran cold. Years of training kicked in as his senses heightened. A bomb.
Who was stupid enough to leave a bomb so in plain sight? Only an idiot wouldn't have noticed. Clark hadn't seemed like an idiot to him, but he hadn't noticed. Was everyone in Metropolis so careless? Was this why no one had yet discovered Superman's secret identity? It was an interesting theory but he had to prove it later.
Bruce had to get Clark away first to deal with the bomb. He didn't want Superman to realize that the weird billionaire who had taken an interest in him was too competent. He would start asking questions and Bruce wasn't ready to deal with that. So he said, "Don't you forget something?"
"Um?"
"Where do you have your jacket?"
"Ah, oh...today is a beautiful day. It's very hot,” Clark said.
"No, it's not," Bruce denied.
"I wouldn't want you to get cold."
Clark hesitated. He was probably thinking about whether or not it was a risk to his secret to go around town dressed too lightly. Bruce played on that doubt. It wasn't even that cold, but someone with Clark's powers would probably be unlikely to realize that.
"Well...maybe you are right..."
"Take your time. I can wait here."
"Are you sure?"
"It's okay, don't worry."
It was a lame excuse even for him, but Superman's powers were useful in this case. If Clark didn't know how a normal human acted, he probably would have thought Bruce's insistence on wearing the jacket was normal. At least, he hoped that was the case and he wouldn't start to suspect Bruce.
Clark finally left, leaving him alone with the bomb. Bruce wasted no time and checked. It was a rudimentary bomb, perhaps made in a basement with instructions found on the internet. It won't be difficult to neutralize it.
"Hey there," said a gruff voice.
Bruce turned to see a security guard approaching. The name tag on his uniform read Mike.
"Everything okay over here?" Mike asked. His eyes were cold, calculating.
“He isn’t a security guard,” Bruce was sure of it.
Before Bruce could react, Mike's hand clamped down on his shoulder, holding him in place. With his other hand, Mike discreetly pressed something small and metal against Bruce's ribs.
Mike prodded Bruce forward, steering him toward a side corridor away from the bustle of the main hall.
Bruce's mind raced, calculating variables, and assessing options. He just needed an opening, a split-second distraction. If he could get the jump on Mike, disarm him before he triggered the bomb...
They turned the corner into the empty hallway. Mike increased the pressure of the gun against Bruce's side.
"Not one word, Mr. Wayne," he hissed. "You're coming with me."
It seemed like it was fate that whenever Bruce had to deal with Clark, there would at least be an attempt on his life. This will increase his chances of success with seduction, won't it?
Selina laughed, her voice echoing down the halls of the Daily Planet. She was thoroughly enjoying her conversation with Lois and Jimmy, oblivious to the danger Bruce now found himself in.
"So there I was, face to face with the Bengal tiger, with nothing but my whip and wits to protect me," Selina regaled them with another tale from her adventures.
Lois and Jimmy were enraptured, hanging on her every word. Selina smiled, relishing the attention.
"How on earth did you get out of that one?" Jimmy asked eagerly.
"Well, just as the tiger was about to pounce..." Selina trailed off dramatically.
Clark arrived at that moment, and looked at them in amazement, “What am I missing?”
“Miss Kyle is telling us about her trip to Bengal,” Jimmy said, his eyes full of wonder.
Selina smiled. He didn't need to know that she had never been beyond Michigan. The tiger story was true: it was a gift made by Joker when he found out where Harley lived while under house arrest.
That first week had been stressful. Then when Pamela also moved, the assassination attempts were significantly reduced. Selina suspected it was because the toxins Pamela created were more effective than whatever shit Joker produced, and the bastard clown knew it.
Oh, the bastard hadn't given up. He had more on his plate. But as soon as he tries something, he will find a pissed-off Mother Nature who was just waiting for the right moment to take him out.
“Working for a billionaire sure is interesting,” Lois added, and Selina bit back a laugh.
You have no idea, woman.
Speaking of her billionaire misanthrope, where was he? She looked at Clark Kent questioningly, and he, feeling questioned, replied, “Ah, I'm here to get my jacket. Mr. Wayne is waiting for me downstairs..."
He froze, a slight crease on his forehead. He was worried, from what Selina could see.
“I have to go, see you later,” and with that, he ran off. Selina swore she saw him open his shirt as he left.
Selina had a bad feeling.
“Bruce, I swear to God, if you get kidnapped again, I will call Alfred.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Lois asked her, noticing that she was distracted.
Selina forced a smile. The good part of that mess was that at least Superman was there to fix whatever mess Bruce was in.
“What had I come to… ah, right. The tiger. Anyway, that bastard was tough..."
To be honest, Bruce's main concern was that he was dealing with an organized group with a specific objective. He hated improvisation, and not knowing how many people he had to deal with was disheartening, to say the least.
Luckily for him, his current captors were, kindly put, incompetent.
“You kidnapped Bruce fucking Wayne?!” shouted a dark-skinned man dressed in black and wearing gloves. He seemed to be the boss. The other, Mike, cringed under his reproaches.
"I had to! He had seen the bomb!”
“Then you could have exploded it, you piece of ass! Don't bring him here!”
“Ah…I hadn't thought of that…”
The boss looked like he was about to strangle him, and Bruce certainly didn't want to blame him. Mike, or whatever his name was, had acted without thinking, taking an important hostage. A person whose absence will surely be noticed, and then there will be a lot of people around looking for him.
Not a smart move.
While the two argued, he fumbled with the rope with which he had been tied. Very cliché, but it was all that the two pseudo-terrorists had at their disposal, in that dilapidated van behind the Daily Planet.
Mike and his boss were sitting in the front, while Bruce was in the back, with another bomb in front of him. This was even more rudimentary than the Daily Planet one, with the difference however that there was a timer on it.
“We have to leave. Now."
“But we have to plant the other bomb…” Mike tried to say but was immediately silenced.
“We'll put it somewhere else. The one at the Daily Planet... I don't know, we'll blow it up when the police arrive for Wayne. What the fuck did you make, Bill..."
“No names!”
He heard the sound of a slap, “Idiot! We will kill him. He's one of the bastard capitalists who ruined our lives!”
"Oh…"
“Now turn it on and let's go.”
“Should I turn it on?” Bill asked, confused.
“Yes, Bill. Turn it on!"
There was a click, then screams so loud you thought an ambulance was passing. The boss started hitting Bill, “You idiot! You lit the bomb!”
“You said turn it on!”
“The car! I said the car, you dumb son of…”
The timer showed two minutes. He had to hurry. Bruce freed himself from the rope, but unfortunately, the boss saw him in the rearview mirror.
“Holy shit…he broke free! Bill…no, shit. You think about the bomb, I'll deal with mister nepotism."
Instinctively, Bruce took the bomb and kicked the door of the van. He opened it and went out. The timer showed one minute before it exploded.
The alley was empty, but he didn't want to risk the lives of the two criminals. While he was thinking, time was of the essence, Superman landed in front of him.
"Mr. Wayne, trouble seems to follow you wherever you go," the hero said, with a winking smile.
Bruce looked at the timer nervously. Thirty seconds. Damn.
“You're invulnerable, right?” he asked him.
Superman blinked, “Yes, I am.”
"Well. Because I'm about to blow you up.”
“Huh?”
There was no time to explain, nor to understand why Superman was blushing so much. He threw the bomb at him and ran. The last thing he heard was shit, Superman, from Bill and his boss.
Then, the explosion.
Selina heard the explosion. Everyone at the Daily Planet heard it. But strangely no one panicked. Jimmy grabbed his camera, “Come on, Lois. Superman has to be here.”
“Give me a moment…sorry, Miss Kyle. Work calls.”
They left, Jimmy almost running over Perry White. The man seemed too used to something like this to seem even a little angry.
He lit a cigar, and turned to Selina, “I called 911. Unlike some, I still act like a normal human being when a bomb goes off.”
And she'll have to check that Bruce isn't somehow responsible for the said explosion. When she told him she would teach him how to blow up a man, she didn't mean it that way!
Bruce was dirty and half deaf in one ear from the noise, but other than that, he was fine. Superman had his costume broken in several places, and pieces of metal on his chest. But other than the dirt, he was fine.
The two criminals, however, were behind the van, too scared to move.
Superman frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but gasped, “Mr. Wayne! You're bleeding!”
Bruce touched his forehead. When he withdrew his hand, it was smeared red.
Eh, Bruce must have hit something after he fell to the ground. Bruce was about to tell him she was fine but stopped. What did normal people do when they were involved in potentially fatal and health-damaging accidents?
Shock, panic, fear…ah, and they asked to go to hospital.
“Could you take me to the hospital? I think I'm a little confused,” Bruce said, hoping he had the best-panicked citizen voice in his repertoire.
Superman was still staring at him, so maybe he hadn't said it right. Should he have initiated contact?
Harley had shown him the covers of some romance novels in which the damsel leaned on the hero. Should Bruce have done the same?
It was a good idea, if only to check closely to see if Superman had any signs of injury or if his skin was free of scars.
However, Superman beat him to the punch.
“I'll take you to the hospital…can I…um…you're not afraid of heights, right?”
"No. “
“Um…well…then…I can…”
Oh, so it was a proposal to be flown bridal style. Rather uncomfortable, but it was an opportunity to get closer to the hero, and he would take it.
"Okay.”
Superman then picked him up and flew away. Bruce put his arms around Superman's neck and hoped the other would interpret it as a gesture of trust.
He had his face against the hero's chest. There were no injuries, although his heart was beating very fast.
It was a reassuring heartbeat.
Lois and Jimmy arrived late when Superman was airlifting a man. Lois immediately recognized the person in the hero's arms.
“Isn't that Bruce Wayne?” she asked. It was Bruce Wayne! Was he injured by the explosion?
“Dunno, it's not clear…”
Lois rolled her eyes, “Jimmy, the glasses.”
The photographer looked offended, “Hey! I can see very well!"
“You need glasses, not Smallville.”
“We know that Clark's glasses…”
She stepped on his foot, making him curse. She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “He trusted us with his secret. Don't shout it at everyone!”
“But there's no one there!” Jimmy said.
“You never know,” Lois replied, and let him go.
Well, she was happy to see that there wasn't much damage, but she would have at least wanted to report on whatever had happened.
Assassination attempt? Terrorists? Accident? Who knew?! Clark owed her so much…
While upset about missing a scoop, she heard Jimmy say, “Of course, Mr. Wayne is down on his luck. This is the second time he's gotten involved in dangerous stuff.”
“Uh uh…”
“He has worse luck than you. Is this a brunette thing?”
Lois was about to scoff when something hit her. Bruce Wayne was a magnet for trouble. He was a social misfit with unclear ideas about interacting with others. He was weird, he was cute, and he ended up in bigger situations than he was.
Oh shit! He was Clark's type.
Lois grabbed Jimmy's shoulders, "I got it!"
Jimmy looked at her confused, “Um…what did you get?”
“He has a crush!” the woman smiled, looking like a crazy person.
“Huh? Who?"
Lois raised a finger towards the sky, where Clark had been. Jimmy took a little too long to understand. When he did, he looked horrified, “A crush? For Wayne?! It's like saying he likes Lex Luthor!”
“Oh, come on. Wayne is not a future dictator with daddy issues to fill Kansas. Plus, he has much nicer hair than Luthor.”
Jimmy looked exasperated, “I'm serious! He might want to dominate the world!”
“The only thing Wayne needs to master is his anxiety, and he's not even doing that well.”
“Still, he might be hiding something.”
Lois laughed, “Mr. Wayne is a millionaire. He's hiding something. Have you ever met a billionaire without skeletons in the closet?”
“You can't approve this!”
“Jimmy, I'm Clark's ex, not his mother.”
Jimmy snapped, “Then let's call Ma Kent and tell her…I don't know…her son's type is going to get him killed.”
"Hey! I was his type.”
“And your father almost got him killed. Your point?”
Why did Jimmy always have to be so dramatic? Lois said, “My point, our friend has a crush. And we will help him."
“Why?!”
Lois smiled, “Because it'll be fun! Where's your adventurous spirit, Jimmy?”
"You are crazy."
“They often told me this. Do you know where Miss Kyle is? I'd like to give her my number..."