Best; you've got to be the best. You've got to change the world.

[isitablurred]

Who: Superhandyman isitablurred  and Batboss kingofrooks 
When: Friday evening, rushhour
Where: The all new abandoned mine Batcave.
Summary: Of bats who are bad at accepting gifts, and superheroes with a questionable sense of humour.
Warnings: PG-13 for things that might be mentioned, possible violence; anything can happen with these two. Except that. Shush.

Comments

[kingofrooks]

Bruce's duties were piling up the more that people of his world appeared. There was Kara and Damian and Jason and- for the briefest of time, so brief that it was barely worth mentioning- Dick. In fact, together with the bounty and Re-l finding out about who he was- Bruce was being reminded more and more of Gotham.

Just Gotham- without the Wayne Manor attached. Or Alfred. Or Bludhaven right at the corner, or the Watchtower that hovered over the skies, out of sight but never out of reach.

Briefly, he smirked wryly to himself about the irony- he had spent so much time pushing everyone away, only approaching them when they asked for his help. And yet here, here, in a place that needed Batman almost as much as Gotham had when he first put on the costume, he missed them all. He missed Nightwing (not Batman, never Batman- not to him), and Kyle and J'onn and Diana and the Clark who had fought by his side for fifteen years. He missed the equipment, the resources, the fact that he literally had an army of metahumans at his beck and call- and

[isitablurred]

Admittedly Bruce looked so completely out of place covered in engine oil smudges and wearing dirty clothes that Clark genuinely had to wonder which of them was the alien, but then he was here, and that was all that mattered. It was odd, honestly. From the first time that Bruce had introducd who he was, Clark hadn't been able to get used to the fact that this scruffy, rakish man was the one behind the black leather and kevlar. The Batman was just a man. Nondescript, handsome by most people's standards, if the true beauty was really the brilliant mind that juggled all of Batman's concerns, as well as at least two identities, multiple universes, the secret knowledge of hundreds of other superheroes and villains and their secret identities, and did so even without putting his mask on. While being in almost constant pain. And while being uncompromisingly compassionate.

Honestly, if anyone was a superman it was Bruce, and that was why Clark intended to help him in any way that he could

[kingofrooks]

The electricity swept all over the Cave, little sparks that made the hairs on the back of Bruce's neck stand up. He hissed sharply at it- and when the lights suddenly flooded the place, squeezing his eyes shut. And immediately there was a retort on the tip of his tongue, to call Clark an idiot simply because he was used to the Fortress's bright, blinding lights. The Cave wasn't supposed to be this bright

[isitablurred]

Clark wasn't sure what he expected, but to look up and see Bruce surrounded by bats, a half smile on his face, his head tilted back as he literally enjoyed their crowding around him--he wasn't sure that was what he'd expected. It had made the deliberate collecting of bats worth it just to see, and he hoped his next opportunity to do so would be with Bruce in the batsuit, because somehow...somehow it'd fit.

He grinned, then stood straight up, electricity still dancing across him. He covered the electrical access with his foot and crossed toward the bike. He'd fry the systems if he touched it, so he didn't, just making a motion toward it, grinning--okay, maybe smirking.

"I notice you didn't offer to pay for the bats, and they were as much a gift--I just didn't think they'd appreciate the ribbons that much." He folded his arms across his chest, almost spitefully proud of himself. "It's a present, and you should be grateful. Say something like 'Wow! Thanks Clark,' and that's all the payment I need