Fic: ...Or Forever Hold Your Peace
Title: ...Or Forever Hold Your Peace
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Alfred Pennyworth
Notes: For
arch_schatten 's birthday! *hugs*
Rating: PG
Continuity: Batman: The Animated Series
Summary: When Ra's al Ghul steals Bruce's memories of being Batman, only Clark can prevent him from making a terrible mistake--marrying Talia al Ghul.
Word Count: 3200
"I'd like to thank you all for coming here this evening," said Bruce Wayne from the top of the staircase at Wayne Manor. "I have a very important announcement to make that I'm sure you'll all be happy to hear." His eyes passed over Clark Kent in the scrum of reporters and society types at the base of the stairs as they always did at public functions like this. "Well, maybe not all of you," he said with a cheerfully overplayed wink. "But you've all got an exclusive scoop that Gotham's most eligible bachelor is finally engaged to be married!"
Clark's jaw dropped open as the crowd buzzed. "And who's the lucky lady?" someone called.
Bruce's eye had a manic gleam as he clasped his hands in front of him dramatically. "She's my soul mate, my delicate blossom, my very reason for existence," he said swooningly. "And I'm delighted to introduce all of Gotham to--"
A door behind him opened to reveal a woman in emerald green, her chestnut hair dipping dramatically over one eye.
"--the future Mrs. Talia Wayne!" Bruce announced.
Everyone applauded politely, except Clark, who was still staring at Talia al Ghul smirking on Bruce's arm.
"Are you mad?" he hissed to Bruce an hour later while Talia was talking to someone else.
"No indeed, I'm as happy as I've ever been, Mister--Mister--"
Clark gaped at Bruce as he searched for his name. "Kent," he said blankly. "Clark Kent."
Bruce grabbed his hand and wrung it. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. "And why shouldn't I be the happiest man alive?" He beamed in Talia's direction. "Just look at her. I'm so lucky!" He waggled his fingers in Talia's direction; she waved back and he sighed. "Oh, my Beloved."
"Bruce," said Clark. "That's just...that's just wrong."
Bruce blinked at him: not angry, just puzzled. "What?"
: : :
Three hours before
"What have you done to my Beloved!" Talia al Ghul hissed at her father.
Ra's looked quite smug. "I have made him love you, my dear."
Talia grimaced. "But he's...he's..."
Ra's watched as Bruce attempted to explain how to play polo to a baffled Ubu. "Well," Ra's said, a hint of chagrin in his voice, "I found a magician powerful enough to cast a spell that would make Bruce Wayne fall in love with you. What the magician neglected to tell me was that in order to make the Detective do something so against his nature, it was necessary he forget all about being Batman."
"Daddy!" Talia watched Bruce switch to giving Ubu fashion pointers about Italian shoes.
Ra's sighed. "The magician said that his more valuable skills and abilities should come back over time, giving us a chance to...shape them as they return." He patted Talia on the cheek. "And once in love with you, darling, I'm sure he'll never want to stop."
"Talia!" Bruce bounded over to her, full of enthusiasm. "I was just explaining to Mr. Ubu what I'd like to wear to our wedding. I have so many ideas about it--I was thinking a huge ceremony at Gotham Cathedral, with a color scheme of moss green and gold--for moss green matches your heavenly eyes, Beloved."
Talia shuddered very slightly. "It sounds lovely...dear," she said lamely.
: : :
"He's moved into the penthouse downtown with that woman and will have nothing more to do with us, Mister Kent," said Alfred Pennyworth, wringing his hands. "He has told the boys and I we can come to the wedding, but he spends all his time with...that woman."
Clark nodded. "Good."
"Good?" Alfred sounded scandalized.
"You and the boys and Barbara should stay away from him. If al Ghul thinks you might trigger his memories, who knows what he'll do to you. No, what Bruce needs right now is someone who can get close to him and talk to him, but who Talia doesn't know is a friend. Someone like...a reporter sent to cover his wedding."
"Oh dear," said Alfred. "I do hope you can get through to him."
"I won't let him get married to someone he doesn't love," Clark said reassuringly.
: : :
"--and buttercream! Make sure it's the highest-quality buttercream frosting!" Bruce Wayne called after Ubu's retreating back. "Only the very sweetest for my sweet," he cooed as he kissed Talia's hands.
Both Talia and Clark rolled their eyes a bit.
"So, Miss Head, you say you're looking forward to being involved in Wayne Enterprise's charity work?"
Talia forced a smile at Clark as Bruce continued to thumb through a book filled with swatches of fabric. "I'll be delighted to play even the tiniest part in making Gotham a better place," she said as Clark scribbled notes. "After all, Bruce cares so deeply about his city. It's in his blood, a passion that cannot be extinguished."
"Actually," Bruce said, flipping pages, "I was thinking of moving to Coast City after the wedding."
Talia's smile congealed. "What?"
"Better tax breaks," Bruce said. "Besides," he beamed at his fiancee, "This hellhole of a town is far too dangerous for my little lovebird! I'm going to keep you safe and happy in a little love nest and never ever let you out in this big bad scary world." He was nuzzling Talia's neck now. "Just you and I...and our little babies," he murmured.
"Could we, uh...get back to talking about the wedding?" asked Clark.
"Oh, of course!" Bruce looked delighted. "I was thinking of hiring Justin Timberlake to perform at the wedding. A week isn't much notice, but anyone can be bought if the price is right."
: : :
"Oh Talia. Oh, my sweet little lambkin, my angelic dove, my Beloved," murmured Bruce between kisses. His hands were fumbling on the zipper of her dress, awkward and unsure, and she pulled away without really thinking about it. "Please, dear. How can I wait another week? How can you be so cruel?"
"Bruce. My...darling," Talia managed. "It's not you, it's me."
Bruce still looked hurt. He gave her a look like a kicked puppy dog. "What am I doing wrong, love?"
Her father's admonition rang in Talia's ears: "There's no reason to wait until his faculties are restored to bear his child, sweetheart. His genetic makeup is as good as ever. Just...do it for me, won't you dear?"
Talia looked at the eager, vapid face of Bruce Wayne, so anxious to please her, so willing to bed her. She sighed.
"It's just...well, I love you dearly, of course. But my father always taught me to find intelligence attractive in a man as well. And while I know you're very intelligent," she said hastily as his lower lip trembled a bit, "I must admit I'd like to see you...use your mind more." She laid a hand alongside his face, smiling. "It's so sexy when a man is dazzlingly smart."
Bruce bit his lip. "Well. I guess I can try. Whatever would make you happier with me."
Talia beamed. "Maybe you could try reading a little? That should broaden your mind."
Bruce looked dubious. "Well..." Then he brightened. "Okay!" He disappeared from the room for a second, then reappeared carrying a copy of GQ. "I was going to save this until I had enough time to really concentrate on it, but now sounds good too." Sitting down, he began to read intently, his brow furrowed, making small sounds of agreement or puzzlement.
Talia sighed again and pulled out her copy of Machiavelli's The Prince to keep her company.
: : :
"It's...lovely." The dress in front of him looked like it had been designed by a partnership between Walt Disney and a demented confectioner: ruffles and tulle exploding everywhere in a frenzy of marital bliss.
"Indeed," Talia said rather dully. "The Swarovski crystal and beads alone cost more than twenty thousand dollars. The lace was all hand-made in Provence." She shot a baleful look at the monstrosity. "My father picked it out for me."
"I see," said Clark.
"Talia, love!" Bruce's voice chimed from the other room--he wasn't allowed to see the dress before the big day, of course. "I need your help!"
Talia and Clark returned to the penthouse's living area, where Bruce was scribbling madly on a vast piece of paper. "The seating arrangements at the reception are a real challenge," he said. "We can't seat the Van Pelts next to the Astors, of course--not after that nasty business with their maids last year. And the Astors have to be near the Kanes, because Kathy and Theresa get along so well, they'll make that whole table so much fun." He frowned and crossed off a few circles and wrote a few more in. "What do you think, Beloved?"
"I trust you, Bruce," said Talia. She sat down at the table and propped her chin in her hand, looking bored.
"I was hoping you'd take a look at the schedule I've written up. I'm not sure if the limo ride from the penthouse to the church should be given eight minutes or ten--a lot depends on traffic that day, of course. Maybe I should split the difference and call it nine."
"Is it really important?" Talia asked.
Bruce looked up from his work, a touch of desperation in his eyes. "Important? Of course it is! It's--I have to--" He stared at the plans scattered on the table around him. "I want to get it just right for you, my sweet gazelle, my darling persimmon, my cherished--"
"--Have you given any thought to a honeymoon, Mr. Wayne?" Clark asked, mostly to cut off the flow of ridiculous endearments.
"Oh yes, of course. Lombardy, we've rented a villa there. Just my love and I for two weeks, with no distractions at all," Bruce said fondly. "But I still haven't gotten the schedule quite right. Talia, would you check the--"
Talia looked exasperated. "--I'll take a look at it if you promise me you'll take a break from planning. Just...go stand on the balcony or something, for just a moment." And leave me alone, her expression seemed to say. She forced a smile. "Can you do that for me, dear? Get some fresh air? Take the reporter with you and let him talk to you a little more."
Bruce rose, nodding. "Whatever you say, love. I probably do need something of a break." He flashed a smile at Clark. "Let's go look out over the city for a moment, shall we?"
The night air was cool and a slight breeze combed through Bruce's hair. Below them the lights of Gotham flickered and shone in the dark. Clark pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Mr. Wayne...are you sure this wedding is a good idea?"
Bruce looked surprised at the inappropriate question. "Who could possibly pass up the chance to make someone as perfect as my Talia theirs forever?" He sighed and leaned on the railing, looking out over the city. "I don't deserve her."
"I--" Clark found himself taken aback. "I think you deserve the very best."
"That's my Talia. She's so smart. And she puts up with me. I know I'm not easy to put up with."
"I think...I think you wouldn't be that hard to put up with," Clark said, feeling awkward. The moonlight on Bruce's dark hair was rather mesmerizing.
"I'm lucky to have her. I hope someday to be worthy of her. What, why are you laughing?"
Clark hadn't realized he had until Bruce said so, but the scoffing sound hung in the air between them. "I just think...I think you're a better man than you realize."
Bruce looked away from Clark, up at the sky. "I'm not good at much. But I'm good at organizing. I know that. So I'm trying to get this wedding just right. Every detail. It's...something I can do."
His profile was aristocratic, limned by moonlight, and his eyes were so sad and wistful that Clark found himself stepping closer, like he might put a hand on his shoulder, might...
The Bat-signal suddenly pierced the night, rising into the clouds in the distance, and Bruce's eyes sharpened. "Oh," he said softly.
Clark realized he was holding his breath. He forced himself to exhale. "Does that...remind you of anything, Bruce?"
For a long moment, Bruce gazed at the golden light, the black wings within it. Then his shoulders slumped. "It reminds me that there's too much crime in this city. My precious blossom will thrive better far away from here." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I need to get back to planning, Mr. Brent. If there's anything more I can do, please let me know."
"I will," said Clark, the glimmerings of a desperate plan forming in his mind.
: : :
The minister was giving his homily on the nature of love. Talia and Bruce were standing hand-in-hand at the altar in Gotham cathedral. And Clark was sitting and sweating in one of the pews.
Any minute now, the thugs Clark had hired would burst in and attempt to rob the wedding guests. With any luck, that would be the shock Bruce needed to snap back to himself. If it didn't work...well, Superman would have to stop them. It was a last-ditch effort, totally desperate.
And the gang was late.
Clark glanced at his watch reflexively, as if that would make them get here any sooner. The minister was finishing his speech and starting the vows.
Just Clark's luck, to hire the one group of Gotham goons who couldn't even show up on time.
Talia and Bruce were reciting their vows. Bruce looked like he might just pass out from joy. Talia's face was unreadable.
Where the hell was the diversion?
The minister was saying something about "Speak now or forever hold your peace," and Clark stood up. This was a disaster. He couldn't let this happen. "Wait!" he stammered, and everyone turned to look at him. "I--I--"
He had no idea what to do now.
He vaulted over a pew and ran up to Bruce Wayne. Bruce stared at him. He stared at Bruce.
Then Clark Kent grabbed the groom and bent him backwards into a passionate kiss.
To his distinct surprise, after a moment the groom threw his arms around him and kissed him back hungrily.
For a long, startled, blissful moment there was nothing but the feel of Bruce's lips on his, the sensation of Bruce's tongue tangling with his. Then Bruce went very still. "What the hell is going on here?" he barked, his body going stiff. He stared up at Clark. "Clark, what the hell are you doing?"
Clark started to stammer something, anything, he had no idea what.
And that, of course, was when his hired thugs decided to crash the party.
: : :
"Of course I made sure their guns weren't loaded," Clark said breathlessly as he dragged a growling Bruce into the choir closet. Bruce's eyes lit up as he saw the familiar kevlar and black silk tucked away there, and he began to strip off the tuxedo with relish as the head goon barked orders to his hostages outside. "I didn't know what else to do!"
"That was the stupidest plan ever, Kent." Bruce was slapping armor on hastily. The closet was quite small, and Clark averted his eyes from the sight of Bruce's undergarments. Bruce paused on a buckle and glanced at Clark out of the corner of his eye. "And what the hell were you thinking, kissing me?"
"I thought it might shock you back to reality," Clark said lamely. He hadn't actually been thinking much at all, beyond how beautiful Bruce was and how much it would break his heart to lose him, but better to present it as a plan.
"Oh, it shocked me, all right," grumbled Bruce. "Do all your desperate memory-regaining techniques involve sticking your tongue down the victim's throat?"
"Only when it's you," blurted Clark.
Bruce said something that sounded like "Hrmmmm" and pulled the cowl over his head while Clark considered whether Talia would do him the favor of killing him. Then he put his hands to either side of Clark's head, planting black gloves firmly on the wall. "You know, I don't think I quite remember how to use my batarangs. Perhaps you could...refresh my memory."
Clark obliged.
"Okay," Bruce said after a glorious but brief interval, "I think I have that memory back. But I know who to turn to if I find any other...gaps that need filling."
"Um. Sounds fine with me."
Bruce flashed a smile. "I think it's time we came out of the closet, don't you think?"
"I will if you will."
Batman whirled and kicked down the door with a bang.
By the time it hit the floor, Superman was right behind him.
The thugs panicked at the sight of them and scattered. The two holding Talia hostage dropped immediately as she deftly tossed one into the other with a well-placed judo throw. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Batman. "Beloved!" she cried, her voice thrilled.
"Uh oh," muttered Batman. "I think it's time to make a strategic retreat."
"I couldn't agree more," said Superman.
Pretending to pursue the last of the demoralized goons, Batman raced down the aisle toward the exit, Superman close behind.
Left at the altar, the bride produced a stiletto from somewhere under her voluminous skirts. In seconds she had sliced off the dress to the knees. "Beloved, come back!" she called after the retreating hero. "Don't leave me!" Kicking off her high heels, she pelted down the aisle after them.
: : :
"--perhaps the biggest wedding disaster in history, the groom disappeared after making out with another man at the altar, and the bride left chasing after Batman. When asked about the debacle, the father of the bride had this to say."
The screen flickered to reveal Ra's al Ghul, looking tired and very annoyed. "Mr. Wayne shall pay for what he has done this day. Oh yes, he shall pay." His shoulders slumped. "At the very least, he shall pay for the wedding expenses. I shall be sending him the bill."
The camera switched back to the smiling face of Summer Gleason. "Luckily, no casualties were reported, except perhaps our faith in a fairytale wedding. This is Summer Gleason, live from Gotham."
Bruce Wayne hit the remote and the image disappeared. "Oh, that's going to sting."
Clark snuggled a little closer to him. "I thought you were the wealthiest man in the world."
"The second, after Luthor. And that wedding would take it out of even him. Do you have any idea how much Justin Timberlake charges for a last-minute cancellation like that?"
"I suppose you could have gone through with it," Clark murmured.
Bruce's arms tightened around him. "No. No, I'm willing to pay, I think." He chuckled against Clark's neck, "But if I'm ever crazy enough to get married, you will not catch me wasting my time and energy planning every ridiculous step. Moss green napkins and buttercream icing, good God."
Clark grinned. "I think you have more important things to spend your time and energy on." Thank goodness.
"Oh, I do. In fact, there's something troubling me very deeply right now."
"What?"
"I can't seem to remember the exact track order on the Beatles' White Album."
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Alfred Pennyworth
Notes: For
arch_schatten 's birthday! *hugs*
Rating: PG
Continuity: Batman: The Animated Series
Summary: When Ra's al Ghul steals Bruce's memories of being Batman, only Clark can prevent him from making a terrible mistake--marrying Talia al Ghul.
Word Count: 3200
"I'd like to thank you all for coming here this evening," said Bruce Wayne from the top of the staircase at Wayne Manor. "I have a very important announcement to make that I'm sure you'll all be happy to hear." His eyes passed over Clark Kent in the scrum of reporters and society types at the base of the stairs as they always did at public functions like this. "Well, maybe not all of you," he said with a cheerfully overplayed wink. "But you've all got an exclusive scoop that Gotham's most eligible bachelor is finally engaged to be married!"
Clark's jaw dropped open as the crowd buzzed. "And who's the lucky lady?" someone called.
Bruce's eye had a manic gleam as he clasped his hands in front of him dramatically. "She's my soul mate, my delicate blossom, my very reason for existence," he said swooningly. "And I'm delighted to introduce all of Gotham to--"
A door behind him opened to reveal a woman in emerald green, her chestnut hair dipping dramatically over one eye.
"--the future Mrs. Talia Wayne!" Bruce announced.
Everyone applauded politely, except Clark, who was still staring at Talia al Ghul smirking on Bruce's arm.
"Are you mad?" he hissed to Bruce an hour later while Talia was talking to someone else.
"No indeed, I'm as happy as I've ever been, Mister--Mister--"
Clark gaped at Bruce as he searched for his name. "Kent," he said blankly. "Clark Kent."
Bruce grabbed his hand and wrung it. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. "And why shouldn't I be the happiest man alive?" He beamed in Talia's direction. "Just look at her. I'm so lucky!" He waggled his fingers in Talia's direction; she waved back and he sighed. "Oh, my Beloved."
"Bruce," said Clark. "That's just...that's just wrong."
Bruce blinked at him: not angry, just puzzled. "What?"
: : :
Three hours before
"What have you done to my Beloved!" Talia al Ghul hissed at her father.
Ra's looked quite smug. "I have made him love you, my dear."
Talia grimaced. "But he's...he's..."
Ra's watched as Bruce attempted to explain how to play polo to a baffled Ubu. "Well," Ra's said, a hint of chagrin in his voice, "I found a magician powerful enough to cast a spell that would make Bruce Wayne fall in love with you. What the magician neglected to tell me was that in order to make the Detective do something so against his nature, it was necessary he forget all about being Batman."
"Daddy!" Talia watched Bruce switch to giving Ubu fashion pointers about Italian shoes.
Ra's sighed. "The magician said that his more valuable skills and abilities should come back over time, giving us a chance to...shape them as they return." He patted Talia on the cheek. "And once in love with you, darling, I'm sure he'll never want to stop."
"Talia!" Bruce bounded over to her, full of enthusiasm. "I was just explaining to Mr. Ubu what I'd like to wear to our wedding. I have so many ideas about it--I was thinking a huge ceremony at Gotham Cathedral, with a color scheme of moss green and gold--for moss green matches your heavenly eyes, Beloved."
Talia shuddered very slightly. "It sounds lovely...dear," she said lamely.
: : :
"He's moved into the penthouse downtown with that woman and will have nothing more to do with us, Mister Kent," said Alfred Pennyworth, wringing his hands. "He has told the boys and I we can come to the wedding, but he spends all his time with...that woman."
Clark nodded. "Good."
"Good?" Alfred sounded scandalized.
"You and the boys and Barbara should stay away from him. If al Ghul thinks you might trigger his memories, who knows what he'll do to you. No, what Bruce needs right now is someone who can get close to him and talk to him, but who Talia doesn't know is a friend. Someone like...a reporter sent to cover his wedding."
"Oh dear," said Alfred. "I do hope you can get through to him."
"I won't let him get married to someone he doesn't love," Clark said reassuringly.
: : :
"--and buttercream! Make sure it's the highest-quality buttercream frosting!" Bruce Wayne called after Ubu's retreating back. "Only the very sweetest for my sweet," he cooed as he kissed Talia's hands.
Both Talia and Clark rolled their eyes a bit.
"So, Miss Head, you say you're looking forward to being involved in Wayne Enterprise's charity work?"
Talia forced a smile at Clark as Bruce continued to thumb through a book filled with swatches of fabric. "I'll be delighted to play even the tiniest part in making Gotham a better place," she said as Clark scribbled notes. "After all, Bruce cares so deeply about his city. It's in his blood, a passion that cannot be extinguished."
"Actually," Bruce said, flipping pages, "I was thinking of moving to Coast City after the wedding."
Talia's smile congealed. "What?"
"Better tax breaks," Bruce said. "Besides," he beamed at his fiancee, "This hellhole of a town is far too dangerous for my little lovebird! I'm going to keep you safe and happy in a little love nest and never ever let you out in this big bad scary world." He was nuzzling Talia's neck now. "Just you and I...and our little babies," he murmured.
"Could we, uh...get back to talking about the wedding?" asked Clark.
"Oh, of course!" Bruce looked delighted. "I was thinking of hiring Justin Timberlake to perform at the wedding. A week isn't much notice, but anyone can be bought if the price is right."
: : :
"Oh Talia. Oh, my sweet little lambkin, my angelic dove, my Beloved," murmured Bruce between kisses. His hands were fumbling on the zipper of her dress, awkward and unsure, and she pulled away without really thinking about it. "Please, dear. How can I wait another week? How can you be so cruel?"
"Bruce. My...darling," Talia managed. "It's not you, it's me."
Bruce still looked hurt. He gave her a look like a kicked puppy dog. "What am I doing wrong, love?"
Her father's admonition rang in Talia's ears: "There's no reason to wait until his faculties are restored to bear his child, sweetheart. His genetic makeup is as good as ever. Just...do it for me, won't you dear?"
Talia looked at the eager, vapid face of Bruce Wayne, so anxious to please her, so willing to bed her. She sighed.
"It's just...well, I love you dearly, of course. But my father always taught me to find intelligence attractive in a man as well. And while I know you're very intelligent," she said hastily as his lower lip trembled a bit, "I must admit I'd like to see you...use your mind more." She laid a hand alongside his face, smiling. "It's so sexy when a man is dazzlingly smart."
Bruce bit his lip. "Well. I guess I can try. Whatever would make you happier with me."
Talia beamed. "Maybe you could try reading a little? That should broaden your mind."
Bruce looked dubious. "Well..." Then he brightened. "Okay!" He disappeared from the room for a second, then reappeared carrying a copy of GQ. "I was going to save this until I had enough time to really concentrate on it, but now sounds good too." Sitting down, he began to read intently, his brow furrowed, making small sounds of agreement or puzzlement.
Talia sighed again and pulled out her copy of Machiavelli's The Prince to keep her company.
: : :
"It's...lovely." The dress in front of him looked like it had been designed by a partnership between Walt Disney and a demented confectioner: ruffles and tulle exploding everywhere in a frenzy of marital bliss.
"Indeed," Talia said rather dully. "The Swarovski crystal and beads alone cost more than twenty thousand dollars. The lace was all hand-made in Provence." She shot a baleful look at the monstrosity. "My father picked it out for me."
"I see," said Clark.
"Talia, love!" Bruce's voice chimed from the other room--he wasn't allowed to see the dress before the big day, of course. "I need your help!"
Talia and Clark returned to the penthouse's living area, where Bruce was scribbling madly on a vast piece of paper. "The seating arrangements at the reception are a real challenge," he said. "We can't seat the Van Pelts next to the Astors, of course--not after that nasty business with their maids last year. And the Astors have to be near the Kanes, because Kathy and Theresa get along so well, they'll make that whole table so much fun." He frowned and crossed off a few circles and wrote a few more in. "What do you think, Beloved?"
"I trust you, Bruce," said Talia. She sat down at the table and propped her chin in her hand, looking bored.
"I was hoping you'd take a look at the schedule I've written up. I'm not sure if the limo ride from the penthouse to the church should be given eight minutes or ten--a lot depends on traffic that day, of course. Maybe I should split the difference and call it nine."
"Is it really important?" Talia asked.
Bruce looked up from his work, a touch of desperation in his eyes. "Important? Of course it is! It's--I have to--" He stared at the plans scattered on the table around him. "I want to get it just right for you, my sweet gazelle, my darling persimmon, my cherished--"
"--Have you given any thought to a honeymoon, Mr. Wayne?" Clark asked, mostly to cut off the flow of ridiculous endearments.
"Oh yes, of course. Lombardy, we've rented a villa there. Just my love and I for two weeks, with no distractions at all," Bruce said fondly. "But I still haven't gotten the schedule quite right. Talia, would you check the--"
Talia looked exasperated. "--I'll take a look at it if you promise me you'll take a break from planning. Just...go stand on the balcony or something, for just a moment." And leave me alone, her expression seemed to say. She forced a smile. "Can you do that for me, dear? Get some fresh air? Take the reporter with you and let him talk to you a little more."
Bruce rose, nodding. "Whatever you say, love. I probably do need something of a break." He flashed a smile at Clark. "Let's go look out over the city for a moment, shall we?"
The night air was cool and a slight breeze combed through Bruce's hair. Below them the lights of Gotham flickered and shone in the dark. Clark pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Mr. Wayne...are you sure this wedding is a good idea?"
Bruce looked surprised at the inappropriate question. "Who could possibly pass up the chance to make someone as perfect as my Talia theirs forever?" He sighed and leaned on the railing, looking out over the city. "I don't deserve her."
"I--" Clark found himself taken aback. "I think you deserve the very best."
"That's my Talia. She's so smart. And she puts up with me. I know I'm not easy to put up with."
"I think...I think you wouldn't be that hard to put up with," Clark said, feeling awkward. The moonlight on Bruce's dark hair was rather mesmerizing.
"I'm lucky to have her. I hope someday to be worthy of her. What, why are you laughing?"
Clark hadn't realized he had until Bruce said so, but the scoffing sound hung in the air between them. "I just think...I think you're a better man than you realize."
Bruce looked away from Clark, up at the sky. "I'm not good at much. But I'm good at organizing. I know that. So I'm trying to get this wedding just right. Every detail. It's...something I can do."
His profile was aristocratic, limned by moonlight, and his eyes were so sad and wistful that Clark found himself stepping closer, like he might put a hand on his shoulder, might...
The Bat-signal suddenly pierced the night, rising into the clouds in the distance, and Bruce's eyes sharpened. "Oh," he said softly.
Clark realized he was holding his breath. He forced himself to exhale. "Does that...remind you of anything, Bruce?"
For a long moment, Bruce gazed at the golden light, the black wings within it. Then his shoulders slumped. "It reminds me that there's too much crime in this city. My precious blossom will thrive better far away from here." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I need to get back to planning, Mr. Brent. If there's anything more I can do, please let me know."
"I will," said Clark, the glimmerings of a desperate plan forming in his mind.
: : :
The minister was giving his homily on the nature of love. Talia and Bruce were standing hand-in-hand at the altar in Gotham cathedral. And Clark was sitting and sweating in one of the pews.
Any minute now, the thugs Clark had hired would burst in and attempt to rob the wedding guests. With any luck, that would be the shock Bruce needed to snap back to himself. If it didn't work...well, Superman would have to stop them. It was a last-ditch effort, totally desperate.
And the gang was late.
Clark glanced at his watch reflexively, as if that would make them get here any sooner. The minister was finishing his speech and starting the vows.
Just Clark's luck, to hire the one group of Gotham goons who couldn't even show up on time.
Talia and Bruce were reciting their vows. Bruce looked like he might just pass out from joy. Talia's face was unreadable.
Where the hell was the diversion?
The minister was saying something about "Speak now or forever hold your peace," and Clark stood up. This was a disaster. He couldn't let this happen. "Wait!" he stammered, and everyone turned to look at him. "I--I--"
He had no idea what to do now.
He vaulted over a pew and ran up to Bruce Wayne. Bruce stared at him. He stared at Bruce.
Then Clark Kent grabbed the groom and bent him backwards into a passionate kiss.
To his distinct surprise, after a moment the groom threw his arms around him and kissed him back hungrily.
For a long, startled, blissful moment there was nothing but the feel of Bruce's lips on his, the sensation of Bruce's tongue tangling with his. Then Bruce went very still. "What the hell is going on here?" he barked, his body going stiff. He stared up at Clark. "Clark, what the hell are you doing?"
Clark started to stammer something, anything, he had no idea what.
And that, of course, was when his hired thugs decided to crash the party.
: : :
"Of course I made sure their guns weren't loaded," Clark said breathlessly as he dragged a growling Bruce into the choir closet. Bruce's eyes lit up as he saw the familiar kevlar and black silk tucked away there, and he began to strip off the tuxedo with relish as the head goon barked orders to his hostages outside. "I didn't know what else to do!"
"That was the stupidest plan ever, Kent." Bruce was slapping armor on hastily. The closet was quite small, and Clark averted his eyes from the sight of Bruce's undergarments. Bruce paused on a buckle and glanced at Clark out of the corner of his eye. "And what the hell were you thinking, kissing me?"
"I thought it might shock you back to reality," Clark said lamely. He hadn't actually been thinking much at all, beyond how beautiful Bruce was and how much it would break his heart to lose him, but better to present it as a plan.
"Oh, it shocked me, all right," grumbled Bruce. "Do all your desperate memory-regaining techniques involve sticking your tongue down the victim's throat?"
"Only when it's you," blurted Clark.
Bruce said something that sounded like "Hrmmmm" and pulled the cowl over his head while Clark considered whether Talia would do him the favor of killing him. Then he put his hands to either side of Clark's head, planting black gloves firmly on the wall. "You know, I don't think I quite remember how to use my batarangs. Perhaps you could...refresh my memory."
Clark obliged.
"Okay," Bruce said after a glorious but brief interval, "I think I have that memory back. But I know who to turn to if I find any other...gaps that need filling."
"Um. Sounds fine with me."
Bruce flashed a smile. "I think it's time we came out of the closet, don't you think?"
"I will if you will."
Batman whirled and kicked down the door with a bang.
By the time it hit the floor, Superman was right behind him.
The thugs panicked at the sight of them and scattered. The two holding Talia hostage dropped immediately as she deftly tossed one into the other with a well-placed judo throw. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Batman. "Beloved!" she cried, her voice thrilled.
"Uh oh," muttered Batman. "I think it's time to make a strategic retreat."
"I couldn't agree more," said Superman.
Pretending to pursue the last of the demoralized goons, Batman raced down the aisle toward the exit, Superman close behind.
Left at the altar, the bride produced a stiletto from somewhere under her voluminous skirts. In seconds she had sliced off the dress to the knees. "Beloved, come back!" she called after the retreating hero. "Don't leave me!" Kicking off her high heels, she pelted down the aisle after them.
: : :
"--perhaps the biggest wedding disaster in history, the groom disappeared after making out with another man at the altar, and the bride left chasing after Batman. When asked about the debacle, the father of the bride had this to say."
The screen flickered to reveal Ra's al Ghul, looking tired and very annoyed. "Mr. Wayne shall pay for what he has done this day. Oh yes, he shall pay." His shoulders slumped. "At the very least, he shall pay for the wedding expenses. I shall be sending him the bill."
The camera switched back to the smiling face of Summer Gleason. "Luckily, no casualties were reported, except perhaps our faith in a fairytale wedding. This is Summer Gleason, live from Gotham."
Bruce Wayne hit the remote and the image disappeared. "Oh, that's going to sting."
Clark snuggled a little closer to him. "I thought you were the wealthiest man in the world."
"The second, after Luthor. And that wedding would take it out of even him. Do you have any idea how much Justin Timberlake charges for a last-minute cancellation like that?"
"I suppose you could have gone through with it," Clark murmured.
Bruce's arms tightened around him. "No. No, I'm willing to pay, I think." He chuckled against Clark's neck, "But if I'm ever crazy enough to get married, you will not catch me wasting my time and energy planning every ridiculous step. Moss green napkins and buttercream icing, good God."
Clark grinned. "I think you have more important things to spend your time and energy on." Thank goodness.
"Oh, I do. In fact, there's something troubling me very deeply right now."
"What?"
"I can't seem to remember the exact track order on the Beatles' White Album."