Fic: First Time For Everything (Part 2)
Part 1
About a year into doing the Batman thing, Bruce had decided it was time he learned how to fly. He breezed through private pilot lessons as Bruce Wayne, which conveniently added another dangerous activity to the playboy's growing list. Just another way to explain away mysterious injuries.
Alfred thought the jet was a bit extravagant, and really more of an indulgence than a necessary tool in the war on crime. With Lucius running the company, it was relatively easy to quietly get a pitch black jet constructed that roughly resembled a bat. Because he would be taking off and landing in the cave, the plane needed enough thrust to allow him to take off without a runway. It also obviously needed stealth cloaking so it couldn't be traced to the manor, and it needed to be narrow enough to maneuver out of a cave opening.
It was a beautiful machine, and a technological masterpiece. There just hadn't been much opportunity to actually use it.
When Bruce learned that the recently-escaped Joker was spotted in Metropolis, it seemed like as good an excuse as any.
Bruce loved the jet. It maneuvered so quickly and smoothly, it was like it could read his mind. He was in Metropolis in half an hour, wondering where exactly he should start looking. He could barely see through the glare of the endless bright lights. The entire city seemed to be encased in a white glow, as if it were god damn Shangri-la.
Bruce turned his head to see Superman flying alongside the plane, grinning. He was pointing to the ground.
Batman landed the plane in a construction site below. Superman was waiting for him.
"A stealth bomber!" Superman exclaimed as Batman exited the plane, "Well, that's subtle. I can't imagine anyone connecting Batman to Gotham's richest man when Batman's piloting a state-of-the-art custom jet."
"You're right. I should have invested in a good pair of glasses."
"So what brings you to Metropolis?"
"The Joker. He's escaped from Arkham and he was spotted here. Let me handle it, Kal. The Joker is a psychopath who gets off on hearing people scream. Trust me, you don't..."
Superman raised a hand to cut Batman off. "Taken care of."
"Pardon?"
"At the Planet we got the bulletin that he'd been spotted. I heard his voice - it's pretty distinct - changed into Superman, and flew in the direction of his voice. I spotted him inside a pet store of all places - I don't even want to think about what he was doing in there - I flew down, grabbed him, and had him back in Arkham before he knew he wasn't still in the pet store."
"When did this all happen?" Batman asked, feeling more useless by the second.
"About an hour ago. I'm surprised you didn't hear. What were you doing?"
Certainly not washing bat feces off the jet.
"I was busy. I guess I missed the update." And now he was standing in Metropolis. For no reason. Feeling like an idiot.
"I'd give you the tour of the town, Batman, but I'm pretty busy myself tonight."
"It's alright. I've got to get back."
Suddenly a look of terror swept over Superman's face. He lunged at Bruce yelling "Batman, get down!" Bruce heard a gunshot as he hit the ground, Superman landing on top of him, acting as a shield.
He waited a moment. Nothing but silence. "Kal, get off me."
Superman didn't move. "Kal, I'm not a child. Move so I can get the shooter."
Finally Bruce rolled the Kryptonian off of him. He was barely breathing.
"Kal?"
"Batman...the bullet...it's Krypto..." Superman passed out, and it terrified Bruce. This man was supposed to be invincible. Bruce couldn't handle having the blood of Superman on his hands. He had to find the bullet. He'd find the sniper later.
He rolled Kal onto his side and found the bullet hole in his back. He wished Alfred was here to do this properly. Bruce quickly removed the necessary objects from his belt. They weren't ideal, but they would have to do. He hauled off his gloves and tucked a small flashlight into the side of his mask. He held a pen knife in one hand, and tweezers in the other. He couldn't figure out how to remove Superman's cape, so he moved it to the side.
It was strange that he was able to make small slits in Superman's supposedly invulnerable skin. Everything about what was happening was strange. Obviously, Superman had a weakness, and the shooter knew what it was. Or at least whoever hired the shooter knew.
"Bru-Batman?" He heard a weak voice say. Then a grunt of pain.
"You can call me Bruce, Kal. Just stay with me here. I'm getting the bullet out."
Bruce worked steadily through Superman's yelps of agony and violent jerks.
"I know you're not used to pain, Kal, but this will go faster if you stay still."
"Bruce...do you know what you're doing?"
Bruce didn't answer. Instead he asked, "Why did this bullet hurt you?"
"It's made from...Kryptonite. Must be Luthor," Superman said through clenched teeth.
"What the hell is Kryptonite?"
"Fragments of my...home planet. Some of it...made its way to Earth...along with me. It hurts me."
"Obviously." If Bruce acted like a big enough ass, maybe Kal wouldn't notice how scared he actually was.
"Only Luthor knows, Bruce."
"Lex Luthor? He's responsible for this?"
"I have...no doubt."
"Kal, what's your favourite flavour of ice cream?"
"I...I like cherry vanil-AGH!"
Bruce pulled the bullet out with one hard yank. It was dark green, and clearly made from mineral.
"Sorry," Bruce said, examining it, "I wanted you to think about something pleasant while I did that."
"Very...thoughtful," Superman said, sitting up, "Do you think you could maybe get rid of that bullet?"
"Right," Batman placed it inside the plane. He would look at it later. When he turned back, Superman was standing.
"You should rest a moment, Kal."
"I'm fine. I'm going after the sniper. He hasn't made it far. Then I'm going after Luthor. I have a Christmas present for him."
Bruce wanted to stop Superman, but knew he couldn't.
"Kal," Batman reached into his belt, "I want you to take this. It's a communicator so you can reach me if you ever need my help. Before tonight, I couldn't imagine that you ever would."
Superman took the tiny device and stared at it. "How does it work?"
"Put it in your ear. No one can see it. I always wear mine. It's two-way, so..."
"We can talk to each other," Superman finished.
"It's for emergencies," Bruce said, more gruffly than he wanted to, "It's not for talking about the weather. I'm busy."
"So you keep saying."
"Goodnight, Kal."
"See you later, Batman. And thank-you. I guess we're even now, with the life-saving."
"Except you've never saved my life."
"Whatever you say," Superman grinned as Batman closed the roof of the jet and took off.
*********************
The next few days were weird. Kal was obviously testing out the communicator at random times because Bruce kept hearing brief snippets of Clark Kent's life. He wasn't even sure if Kal knew that the communicator was on.
The first time Bruce heard the slightly nasal, geeky voice in his ear, he had no idea who it was.
"Gosh, Lois. You look really nice today. Is it today that you're interviewing the new Secretary of Defense?"
Bruce heard Lois say something which was muffled about a new military helicopter.
"You're a brave woman, Lois. You wouldn't catch me up there in one of those things. You know how I feel about heights."
Lois said something barely audible about Clark's own shadow before the comm link cut out.
Bruce smiled a little at Kal's acting. He knew all about playing a character for the public, but there was something extra amusing about a being that could tear the Earth clean in two acting like a bumbling nerd. Maybe Kal's disguise wasn't as stupid as Bruce thought.
On the third day, when he had to listen to Kal singing, Bruce decided to intervene.
"R-O-C-K in the U.S.A! R-O-C-K in the U.S.A!"
"I'll make a note that perfect pitch is not among your powers."
"What the?! Who?!"
"Comm link, Kal."
"Oh! Bruce! Sorry. I forgot I was wearing it! How long has it been on?"
"One verse and one chorus. I hope you're not on stage or anything."
"No! I'm...I'm in the shower, actually." Kal sounded really embarrassed.
"You probably shouldn't wear it in the shower, Kal."
"It's ok. I'm done anyway. Now where's that towel..."
The fact that he was talking to a wet, naked Superman barely crossed Bruce's mind.
"So...what are you doing?" Kal asked.
"I was reading the newspaper."
"Daily Planet, I hope."
"Among others," Bruce said, "I haven't seen any articles that would indicate that you apprehended Luthor."
"Well..." Kal trailed off.
"Kal?"
"I found Luthor, but I couldn't capture him this time because...The only way I could bring him up on charges for trying to kill me is to reveal my weakness to the world."
"I see."
"I'll get Luthor in jail again. The risk was too high this time."
"You're going to wait for him to endanger innocent people, possibly kill them, before you arrest him? So your weakness remains a secret?" Bruce kept his voice even. He couldn't decide if he agreed with Kal's decision or not.
"I'll be watching him. I won't let him hurt anyone."
"What about you? I can't make removing Kryptonite bullets a full-time job."
"Exactly why I didn't arrest him, Bruce. Trust me, I can handle Luthor."
"..."
"What?" Kal asked.
"I didn't say anything."
"I know. But you were thinking something."
"I'm not going to presume to know what you're capable of handling, Superman. All that I know is all it takes to immobilize, and kill you, is a tiny sliver of green rock. And that one of the only other people who knows this, happens to be obsessed with killing you."
"Can we talk about something else?"
There was an awkward silence after Kal's question. Both men realized that they were having this conversation for no apparent reason.
"What would you like to talk about?" Bruce asked, instead of saying what he meant to say, which was "I'm busy, good-bye."
"How many Christmas parties have you had to go to this year?" Kal asked.
The question wasn't what Bruce was expecting.
"Far too many. I lost count around twelve."
"I have a hard time believing you lose count of anything, Bruce," Kal said, "But I know what you're saying. Considering Clark Kent has no life, he certainly is expected to attend a lot of parties and functions this time of year. I can't even imagine how many a party animal like Bruce Wayne has to endure."
"It seems like more every year," Bruce sighed, "I hate them. I always duck out as soon as possible so I can do my work."
"And you have to make the excuses every time. That's the hardest part. I mean, how many times can Clark have a stomach flu before people start worrying about him?"
"Bruce Wayne is a little more mysterious. Usually he just has 'business to attend to.' I let people use their imaginations."
Kal laughed. Bruce found himself grinning despite himself.
"I've always loved this time of year," Kal sighed, "This year it feels empty. It's my first Christmas in over five years, but without my family, it just seems meaningless."
"I haven't been interested in the holiday season in a very long time," Bruce said, "Bruce Wayne goes through the motions of attending parties and spreading cheer, but personally I just want to get it over with."
"It's funny the way that we both talk about ourselves in the third person," Kal said, "We're so removed from our own identities. It's not even a double life we're both leading, it's a triple life."
"If it weren't for Alfred, I probably would have lost the third identity by now."
"The man who is neither Batman nor the playboy?"
"He makes himself scarce. How often do you get to be yourself?"
"Now the only times are when I'm talking to you," Kal said, "I guess that's why I enjoy our conversations so much."
Bruce hadn't realized until then that for this entire conversation, he had been himself. Not Batman, not Brucie, but the Bruce that Alfred knew.
"So," Kal continued, "What's a typical Christmas like for Bruce Wayne?"
"Which one?"
"You. The real one. The one I'm talking to."
"Alfred always decorates the manor. He orders a very large tree. No one ever sees any of this because it's just the two of us, and I rarely even enter the main living room. I think he just does it out of tradition. He's big on traditions."
"Christmas at the farm was my favourite thing in the world. Mom cooked more food than even I could eat. Dad acted like a kid, always excited to see our faces when we opened our presents."
"How did he stop you from..."
"Lead boxes."
"Interesting."
"All the neighbors would stop in, too," Kal continued, "It was just...like Christmas is supposed to be. Warm and full of friends and family."
Both men were silent. Kal trailed off, and Bruce had nothing to say to that. He couldn't remember what it felt like to have a life that was warm and full of loved ones.
"I just realized how much I am going to miss that," Kal said quietly.
"Kal," Bruce started, then stopped. He wasn't really going to ask this. Was he? "Would you like to spend Christmas here at the manor? It won't be like the farm, by any stretch, but you shouldn't spend the first Christmas without your family alone."
He really did ask it.
"Bruce, I..." Kal sounded stunned, "Are you sure? I don't want to bother you."
"Since when?"
Kal laughed. "I would like that, Bruce. It sounds like you could use some company yourself."
"I don't mind being alone. It's what I'm used to."
"That doesn't make it right."
Bruce chose not to respond to that. "You should come by on Christmas Eve. There's plenty of room here. I think there's at least fifteen bedrooms. I've never counted. Alfred will enjoy having someone who appreciates his cooking."
"I'll see you then, Bruce. Thank-you."
"I'll see you, Kal."
"Ok, I'm going to turn off this radio thing now."
"Good idea."
The last thing Bruce heard was "How do I? Oh."
Bruce shook his head.
On to Part 3
About a year into doing the Batman thing, Bruce had decided it was time he learned how to fly. He breezed through private pilot lessons as Bruce Wayne, which conveniently added another dangerous activity to the playboy's growing list. Just another way to explain away mysterious injuries.
Alfred thought the jet was a bit extravagant, and really more of an indulgence than a necessary tool in the war on crime. With Lucius running the company, it was relatively easy to quietly get a pitch black jet constructed that roughly resembled a bat. Because he would be taking off and landing in the cave, the plane needed enough thrust to allow him to take off without a runway. It also obviously needed stealth cloaking so it couldn't be traced to the manor, and it needed to be narrow enough to maneuver out of a cave opening.
It was a beautiful machine, and a technological masterpiece. There just hadn't been much opportunity to actually use it.
When Bruce learned that the recently-escaped Joker was spotted in Metropolis, it seemed like as good an excuse as any.
Bruce loved the jet. It maneuvered so quickly and smoothly, it was like it could read his mind. He was in Metropolis in half an hour, wondering where exactly he should start looking. He could barely see through the glare of the endless bright lights. The entire city seemed to be encased in a white glow, as if it were god damn Shangri-la.
Bruce turned his head to see Superman flying alongside the plane, grinning. He was pointing to the ground.
Batman landed the plane in a construction site below. Superman was waiting for him.
"A stealth bomber!" Superman exclaimed as Batman exited the plane, "Well, that's subtle. I can't imagine anyone connecting Batman to Gotham's richest man when Batman's piloting a state-of-the-art custom jet."
"You're right. I should have invested in a good pair of glasses."
"So what brings you to Metropolis?"
"The Joker. He's escaped from Arkham and he was spotted here. Let me handle it, Kal. The Joker is a psychopath who gets off on hearing people scream. Trust me, you don't..."
Superman raised a hand to cut Batman off. "Taken care of."
"Pardon?"
"At the Planet we got the bulletin that he'd been spotted. I heard his voice - it's pretty distinct - changed into Superman, and flew in the direction of his voice. I spotted him inside a pet store of all places - I don't even want to think about what he was doing in there - I flew down, grabbed him, and had him back in Arkham before he knew he wasn't still in the pet store."
"When did this all happen?" Batman asked, feeling more useless by the second.
"About an hour ago. I'm surprised you didn't hear. What were you doing?"
Certainly not washing bat feces off the jet.
"I was busy. I guess I missed the update." And now he was standing in Metropolis. For no reason. Feeling like an idiot.
"I'd give you the tour of the town, Batman, but I'm pretty busy myself tonight."
"It's alright. I've got to get back."
Suddenly a look of terror swept over Superman's face. He lunged at Bruce yelling "Batman, get down!" Bruce heard a gunshot as he hit the ground, Superman landing on top of him, acting as a shield.
He waited a moment. Nothing but silence. "Kal, get off me."
Superman didn't move. "Kal, I'm not a child. Move so I can get the shooter."
Finally Bruce rolled the Kryptonian off of him. He was barely breathing.
"Kal?"
"Batman...the bullet...it's Krypto..." Superman passed out, and it terrified Bruce. This man was supposed to be invincible. Bruce couldn't handle having the blood of Superman on his hands. He had to find the bullet. He'd find the sniper later.
He rolled Kal onto his side and found the bullet hole in his back. He wished Alfred was here to do this properly. Bruce quickly removed the necessary objects from his belt. They weren't ideal, but they would have to do. He hauled off his gloves and tucked a small flashlight into the side of his mask. He held a pen knife in one hand, and tweezers in the other. He couldn't figure out how to remove Superman's cape, so he moved it to the side.
It was strange that he was able to make small slits in Superman's supposedly invulnerable skin. Everything about what was happening was strange. Obviously, Superman had a weakness, and the shooter knew what it was. Or at least whoever hired the shooter knew.
"Bru-Batman?" He heard a weak voice say. Then a grunt of pain.
"You can call me Bruce, Kal. Just stay with me here. I'm getting the bullet out."
Bruce worked steadily through Superman's yelps of agony and violent jerks.
"I know you're not used to pain, Kal, but this will go faster if you stay still."
"Bruce...do you know what you're doing?"
Bruce didn't answer. Instead he asked, "Why did this bullet hurt you?"
"It's made from...Kryptonite. Must be Luthor," Superman said through clenched teeth.
"What the hell is Kryptonite?"
"Fragments of my...home planet. Some of it...made its way to Earth...along with me. It hurts me."
"Obviously." If Bruce acted like a big enough ass, maybe Kal wouldn't notice how scared he actually was.
"Only Luthor knows, Bruce."
"Lex Luthor? He's responsible for this?"
"I have...no doubt."
"Kal, what's your favourite flavour of ice cream?"
"I...I like cherry vanil-AGH!"
Bruce pulled the bullet out with one hard yank. It was dark green, and clearly made from mineral.
"Sorry," Bruce said, examining it, "I wanted you to think about something pleasant while I did that."
"Very...thoughtful," Superman said, sitting up, "Do you think you could maybe get rid of that bullet?"
"Right," Batman placed it inside the plane. He would look at it later. When he turned back, Superman was standing.
"You should rest a moment, Kal."
"I'm fine. I'm going after the sniper. He hasn't made it far. Then I'm going after Luthor. I have a Christmas present for him."
Bruce wanted to stop Superman, but knew he couldn't.
"Kal," Batman reached into his belt, "I want you to take this. It's a communicator so you can reach me if you ever need my help. Before tonight, I couldn't imagine that you ever would."
Superman took the tiny device and stared at it. "How does it work?"
"Put it in your ear. No one can see it. I always wear mine. It's two-way, so..."
"We can talk to each other," Superman finished.
"It's for emergencies," Bruce said, more gruffly than he wanted to, "It's not for talking about the weather. I'm busy."
"So you keep saying."
"Goodnight, Kal."
"See you later, Batman. And thank-you. I guess we're even now, with the life-saving."
"Except you've never saved my life."
"Whatever you say," Superman grinned as Batman closed the roof of the jet and took off.
*********************
The next few days were weird. Kal was obviously testing out the communicator at random times because Bruce kept hearing brief snippets of Clark Kent's life. He wasn't even sure if Kal knew that the communicator was on.
The first time Bruce heard the slightly nasal, geeky voice in his ear, he had no idea who it was.
"Gosh, Lois. You look really nice today. Is it today that you're interviewing the new Secretary of Defense?"
Bruce heard Lois say something which was muffled about a new military helicopter.
"You're a brave woman, Lois. You wouldn't catch me up there in one of those things. You know how I feel about heights."
Lois said something barely audible about Clark's own shadow before the comm link cut out.
Bruce smiled a little at Kal's acting. He knew all about playing a character for the public, but there was something extra amusing about a being that could tear the Earth clean in two acting like a bumbling nerd. Maybe Kal's disguise wasn't as stupid as Bruce thought.
On the third day, when he had to listen to Kal singing, Bruce decided to intervene.
"R-O-C-K in the U.S.A! R-O-C-K in the U.S.A!"
"I'll make a note that perfect pitch is not among your powers."
"What the?! Who?!"
"Comm link, Kal."
"Oh! Bruce! Sorry. I forgot I was wearing it! How long has it been on?"
"One verse and one chorus. I hope you're not on stage or anything."
"No! I'm...I'm in the shower, actually." Kal sounded really embarrassed.
"You probably shouldn't wear it in the shower, Kal."
"It's ok. I'm done anyway. Now where's that towel..."
The fact that he was talking to a wet, naked Superman barely crossed Bruce's mind.
"So...what are you doing?" Kal asked.
"I was reading the newspaper."
"Daily Planet, I hope."
"Among others," Bruce said, "I haven't seen any articles that would indicate that you apprehended Luthor."
"Well..." Kal trailed off.
"Kal?"
"I found Luthor, but I couldn't capture him this time because...The only way I could bring him up on charges for trying to kill me is to reveal my weakness to the world."
"I see."
"I'll get Luthor in jail again. The risk was too high this time."
"You're going to wait for him to endanger innocent people, possibly kill them, before you arrest him? So your weakness remains a secret?" Bruce kept his voice even. He couldn't decide if he agreed with Kal's decision or not.
"I'll be watching him. I won't let him hurt anyone."
"What about you? I can't make removing Kryptonite bullets a full-time job."
"Exactly why I didn't arrest him, Bruce. Trust me, I can handle Luthor."
"..."
"What?" Kal asked.
"I didn't say anything."
"I know. But you were thinking something."
"I'm not going to presume to know what you're capable of handling, Superman. All that I know is all it takes to immobilize, and kill you, is a tiny sliver of green rock. And that one of the only other people who knows this, happens to be obsessed with killing you."
"Can we talk about something else?"
There was an awkward silence after Kal's question. Both men realized that they were having this conversation for no apparent reason.
"What would you like to talk about?" Bruce asked, instead of saying what he meant to say, which was "I'm busy, good-bye."
"How many Christmas parties have you had to go to this year?" Kal asked.
The question wasn't what Bruce was expecting.
"Far too many. I lost count around twelve."
"I have a hard time believing you lose count of anything, Bruce," Kal said, "But I know what you're saying. Considering Clark Kent has no life, he certainly is expected to attend a lot of parties and functions this time of year. I can't even imagine how many a party animal like Bruce Wayne has to endure."
"It seems like more every year," Bruce sighed, "I hate them. I always duck out as soon as possible so I can do my work."
"And you have to make the excuses every time. That's the hardest part. I mean, how many times can Clark have a stomach flu before people start worrying about him?"
"Bruce Wayne is a little more mysterious. Usually he just has 'business to attend to.' I let people use their imaginations."
Kal laughed. Bruce found himself grinning despite himself.
"I've always loved this time of year," Kal sighed, "This year it feels empty. It's my first Christmas in over five years, but without my family, it just seems meaningless."
"I haven't been interested in the holiday season in a very long time," Bruce said, "Bruce Wayne goes through the motions of attending parties and spreading cheer, but personally I just want to get it over with."
"It's funny the way that we both talk about ourselves in the third person," Kal said, "We're so removed from our own identities. It's not even a double life we're both leading, it's a triple life."
"If it weren't for Alfred, I probably would have lost the third identity by now."
"The man who is neither Batman nor the playboy?"
"He makes himself scarce. How often do you get to be yourself?"
"Now the only times are when I'm talking to you," Kal said, "I guess that's why I enjoy our conversations so much."
Bruce hadn't realized until then that for this entire conversation, he had been himself. Not Batman, not Brucie, but the Bruce that Alfred knew.
"So," Kal continued, "What's a typical Christmas like for Bruce Wayne?"
"Which one?"
"You. The real one. The one I'm talking to."
"Alfred always decorates the manor. He orders a very large tree. No one ever sees any of this because it's just the two of us, and I rarely even enter the main living room. I think he just does it out of tradition. He's big on traditions."
"Christmas at the farm was my favourite thing in the world. Mom cooked more food than even I could eat. Dad acted like a kid, always excited to see our faces when we opened our presents."
"How did he stop you from..."
"Lead boxes."
"Interesting."
"All the neighbors would stop in, too," Kal continued, "It was just...like Christmas is supposed to be. Warm and full of friends and family."
Both men were silent. Kal trailed off, and Bruce had nothing to say to that. He couldn't remember what it felt like to have a life that was warm and full of loved ones.
"I just realized how much I am going to miss that," Kal said quietly.
"Kal," Bruce started, then stopped. He wasn't really going to ask this. Was he? "Would you like to spend Christmas here at the manor? It won't be like the farm, by any stretch, but you shouldn't spend the first Christmas without your family alone."
He really did ask it.
"Bruce, I..." Kal sounded stunned, "Are you sure? I don't want to bother you."
"Since when?"
Kal laughed. "I would like that, Bruce. It sounds like you could use some company yourself."
"I don't mind being alone. It's what I'm used to."
"That doesn't make it right."
Bruce chose not to respond to that. "You should come by on Christmas Eve. There's plenty of room here. I think there's at least fifteen bedrooms. I've never counted. Alfred will enjoy having someone who appreciates his cooking."
"I'll see you then, Bruce. Thank-you."
"I'll see you, Kal."
"Ok, I'm going to turn off this radio thing now."
"Good idea."
The last thing Bruce heard was "How do I? Oh."
Bruce shook his head.
On to Part 3