Series: Black and Blue, Chapter Eleven - 1998, Part 1 (Clark/Bruce)
Title: Black and Blue
Pairing: Bruce/Clark
Genre: Alternate Universe/Pre-Slash/Slash
Rating: PG for now
Summary: The friendship before they donned the capes
Notes: Inspired by "When Clark Met Bruce" by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale
All previous chapters can be found at blaknbluseries.
I'm having the damnedest time posting this blasted thing to the comm, so I'm posting it to my journal for now.
Summer 1998
May 18, 1998
Hey Bruce,
I just heard the news. I wish you would have told me, but I guess if it were me I'd be afraid to tell you. But I'm not mad, not at all. I think its great that your school is sending you to Europe. It's worth missing a summer with ol' me. If you keep this up, you'll graduate from high school before I even get there, ha ha. But I knew that big ol' brain of yours would get you in trouble. Have fun and take pictures.
Love,
Clark
May 26, 1998
Clark,
You do realize that this summer accelerated program is going to suck, don't you? You don't think I'd rather be going to Smallville and lighting our rocket? I even built a booster! The rocket probably could've made it past the stratosphere (before the upper atmosphere froze it and it came crashing back to Earth, that is). Tomorrow is the first day, so by the time you get this, I may have already died of boredom. If that happens, I want you to have my collection of Grey Ghost comics and action figures. I’m leaving instructions with Alfred. In the meantime, I’m leaving my address at the stupid boarding school so I won’t want to rip my hair out from boredom.
Bruce
June 3, 1998
Bruce,
I'm wasting this sheet of paper to tell you that you are overdramatic. That doesn't mean that I'm not making lots of copies of your letter to take with me to the reading of your will.
Clark
July 21, 1998
Bruce,
I changed my mind. You officially suck. This summer has been totally and completely boring and it’s all your fault. Since we don’t have a houseguest this summer, it’s like Dad doubled my chores, and I get no time off for good behavior. I didn’t have time to go camping with the guys this time because Mom and Dad are making me help them in Topeka at some stupid conference for organic farmers. Why do you hate me, Bruce? What did I ever do to you?
You suck,
Clark
August 2, 1998
E.T.
Tell me how you really feel. I just got back from Oxford, which is in England. Talk about stuffy. If it makes you feel better, I had to wear a tie ALL SUMMER. Even at my school here in Gotham we get to wear jeans on Fridays. And the head master there was a huge jerk. (He really was huge. Probably about 8 feet tall with a mustache and these beady little eyes.) It’s too bad you couldn’t have run across the ocean to rescue me. Thank God it’s over, though. I did manage to make a couple friends there, but none of them had the appreciation of good quality comics or rockets like you. Oh well, school starts in a couple weeks. It’s gonna suck being the youngest freshman in my class, but at least I’ll still get to see Tommy every day. He says hi, by the way. And he says to ask your mom if she’ll send more of her cookies.
Bruce
Winter 1998
Bruce exited the airport gate, shifting his carry-on bag to his other shoulder. He made sure that nothing inside had gotten squished; he really hoped Clark liked his Christmas present this year. Bruce had practically tackled Alfred when he learned that his guardian and Mrs. Kent had arranged for him to spend Christmas in Smallville this year. It was supposed to be a surprise for Clark, but for Bruce it was the best Christmas present he could have asked for. He turned back towards the gate he’d just exited and sighed exasperatedly.
“Alfred! Come on!” He would have laughed at his butler’s need to be proper while exiting a plane if Bruce wasn’t so anxious to find the Kents so they could get to Smallville and the farm.
As if on cue, Bruce turned around and saw the familiar red hair. He beamed and ran two steps toward Martha before he glanced at his guardian and remembered the rules of decorum.
"Don't hold back on my account," Alfred smiled down at him, and Bruce wasted no time rushing to engulf Mrs. Kent in a big hug.
"Oh my, how you've grown," Martha gushed when she released him, noting the fact that he was just an inch taller than her now.
"Must be that broccoli Alfred keeps making me eat."
Martha joined in with the laughter. "I wish I could say the same for Clark. I don't know what that boy has been eating to be growing so fast."
"Probably everything," Bruce rolled his eyes, causing Martha to giggle more though she swatted him playfully. After greeting Alfred in a much more subdued manner, the three of them proceeded to baggage claim and then they were on their way to Smallville in the Kents' family truck.
"I'm sorry about the vehicle," Martha blushed, adjusting the heat controls futilely.
"Nonsense, Mrs. Kent," Alfred dismissed. "I have certainly traveled under worse conditions."
Martha smiled gratefully; she and Alfred made small talk during three hour drive to the farm while Bruce bubbled with restrained anticipation. He couldn't wait to get to the farm and see Mr. Kent. But Bruce wasn't to cool to admit that he was most excited about seeing his best friend, E.T. A giggle at the nickname escaped his throat, but the two adults only glanced at him briefly before attributing it to excitement.
The yellow farmhouse hadn’t changed, not that Bruce expected it to. The only difference was the Christmas lights decorating the house and even the barn. Wayne Manor was far too large to adorn with lights and fake reindeer pulling a jolly Santa in his sleigh, so Bruce had beamed at the multi-colored display and guessed at which decorations were Clark’s influence.
Martha explained that Jonathan was keeping Clark occupied away from the farm while the three of them set up the surprise. Bruce felt like the Grey Ghost, setting up a sting operation in the suspect’s own lair. He ran upstairs to Clark's bedroom to put his suitcase away, and left a little something sitting on Clark’s bed before dashing back down the stairs. He found the adults in the kitchen where he left them, Martha preparing hot chocolate for an uncomfortable looking Alfred. The poor guy looked like he wanted to snatch the pot away from Mrs. Kent and do it himself.
Bruce joined Alfred at the kitchen table and watched Mrs. Kent stir the milk into the pot. Although he couldn't wait for the treat to be ready, he was more anxious to see Clark's face when he walked through the door.
Not too long after, Bruce heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He jumped in his seat, and Martha had to remind him to stay quiet. She ushered the two of them into the alcove under the stairs and waited for the Kent men to come inside.
From his vantage point, Bruce watched as Jonathan opened the backdoor and gave Martha an expectant look. Martha gave him a silent thumbs-up and the two of them schooled their features as Clark came inside.
"What are you guys up to?" Clark asked immediately as he entered the house, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He walked into the house warily, and Bruce had to suppress a gasp at how tall Clark had gotten. He could tell that when they stand next to each other that Clark will be a couple inches taller than him. Clark’s hair was longer, curling over his ears and almost falling into his wide blue eyes. Bruce didn’t know whether he liked it or not. It looked good on Clark, but Bruce could barely see his face.
“Obviously, we’re hiding your Christmas present,” Martha said with a playful roll of her eyes. Clark shook his head at his parents with a chuckle. “Go upstairs and wash your hands before you get some of this hot chocolate.”
Martha barely completed her sentence when Clark rushed out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Martha’s hand twitched towards her heart, and instantly Bruce knew what she had panicked about. Fortunately, Clark used normal speed to climb the stairs and she visibly relaxed, venturing a brief glance at their position under the stairs. Bruce felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that the charade the Kents would be putting on throughout their visit was in vain. At least on Bruce’s part.
“You can come out,” Jonathan whispered, beckoning them with his hand as his eyes stayed fixed towards the stairs
“We should probably put him out of his misery,” Bruce shrugged, knowing their own charade would be over as soon as Clark entered his room anyway. The clue he left on the bed would give away the surprise and if the shout of joy that just came from upstairs was any indication, Bruce knew that Clark was now in on the secret.
“Bruce!” Clark exclaimed as Bruce leaned against the doorjamb. The next thing Bruce knew, he was being crushed by flannel-clad arms. Not only had Clark gotten taller, but he was stronger as well, Bruce thought to himself as he struggled to breathe.
“Missed…you…too,” Bruce managed between breaths. Clark let him go abruptly.
“I’m so sorry,” Clark said immediately, his hands flew up to catch Bruce as he stumbled backward.
“Stop it, I’m just messing with you,” Bruce chuckled, and it was then he noticed Clark was holding the present he left on the bed. “I see you got your pre-Christmas gift.”
Clark’s smile was blinding. “As soon as I saw it, I knew you were here.”
“It reminded me of you, for obvious reasons.” Bruce knew that they were both too old for stuffed animals, but he saw it in a retro store in Gotham and he couldn’t resist. “Press its hand.”
Clark obeyed, and then threw his head back in laughter as the stuffed toy declared “E.T. phone home.”
“That’s awesome,” Clark said as he calmed. “How long are you staying?”
Bruce couldn’t suppress the pleasure he felt at seeing how happy Clark was to see him. “For the whole break. Two weeks.”
“I guess my parents outdid themselves this year,” Clark grinned. “No one’s ever given me a Bruce for Christmas before. I think I owe them a car or something.”
Bruce rolled his eyes, but that pleasure he felt before was nothing compared to now.
“Wipe your feet!” Martha admonished as the two boys ran laughing into the house dripping with snow from head to toe.
“Sorry, mom.”
“Sorry, Martha.”
She shook her head in amusement as the boys ran up the stairs, hopefully to change their sodden clothes. She turned back to her pie crust and the man sitting across from her.
“I take it this is what I’ve been missing out on these past few years,” said Alfred with a raised eyebrow. Martha finally gave in and laughed. The boys hadn’t even noticed Alfred sitting at the counter, a hot cup of tea in hand. Martha had insisted that Alfred do no work while in Smallville. Alfred had insisted on at least keeping her company while she prepared the deserts for the annual Christmas Festival in town.
“I’ll bet now you’re relieved that we’re the ones that have to put up with the chaos,” Martha smirked.
“On the contrary,” Alfred mused, “seeing Master Bruce behave like a child has been my greatest wish since…well, for a while, Madame.”
“Martha,” she corrected gentle, though her amusement was quickly replaced with guilt. She cleared her throat. “Bruce has been a wonderful friend to Clark.”
“I imagine Bruce sees Clark as the brother he always wanted, and he speaks of you and Mr.-and Jonathan with a reverence he usually reserves for his parents.”
Martha felt her eyes sting. “I’ll admit that it feels like I have two sons when Bruce comes to visit.”
Alfred gave a warm smile. “I’ll take that as a great compliment.”
Jonathan was sawing wooden planks when Alfred entered the barn. Jonathan turned at the sound of approaching footsteps and cast a furtive glance over Alfred’s shoulder to the entrance of the barn.
“She and the boys have gone for more tree decorations,” Alfred said in an exaggerated whisper. Jonathan accepted the mug of steaming hot chocolate from Alfred’s outstretched hand. “I believe we’re safe for the time being.”
“You can never be too careful with Martha,” Jonathan said in a low voice, as if his wife could hear them from the house. “If she knew you were helping me out here, she’d kill me and sell me for parts.” Alfred winced at the imagery, but heeded the wise words and quietly grabbed a pair of work gloves.
“Dismemberment aside,” Alfred deadpanned, “on behalf of Master Bruce and myself, I would like to once again thank you for your hospitality in hosting us for the holidays, I know this is a time for family-“
“Now hold on there,” Jonathan interrupted, “Bruce is as much a part of this family as my own son, and I know you feel the same about my boy, so no more of this formality, alright?”
Alfred nodded in understanding. “I’ll try to, as Master Clark would say, ‘chill out’.”
Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh at the stiffly delivered phrase. “If you’re comfortable enough to risk my wife’s wrath when, and I do mean when she finds out that you’ve been helping me with this, then I say welcome to the family.”
“I’d rather not be presumptuous, Jonathan,” Alfred struggled with the familiarity, but Jonathan appreciated the effort. “It has been a long while since Master Bruce has had any semblance of a normal family.”
Jonathan stopped sawing and looked at his friend. “Bruce loves you,” he said with certainty. “Even without my family, I’m sure Bruce would’ve grown to become an extraordinary man with you raising him.”
“That means a lot,” Alfred nodded solemnly, holding the next beam steady for Jonathan to saw. “In any case, I’m most certain that his parents are pleased that he’s met such a remarkable family to become a part of.”
Jonathan was man enough to admit that Alfred’s words made him feel proud. The guilt was something extra that he would keep to himself.
Clark playfully draped several strands of tinsel across Bruce’s head and laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Bruce shot a brief glare and smiled slowly, causing Clark to stop abruptly and swallow hard at the unspoken threat. Later, the smile promised.
The tree was pretty much completely decorated and Clark managed to get more tinsel on himself than the actual tree. Bruce shook his head at his friend but couldn’t deny that Clark’s joy was infectious. He couldn’t wait to see Clark’s face at his other present. Which reminded him that he needed to find somewhere to stash it for the next couple of days so Clark wouldn’t “accidentally” find it the way he “accidentally” found a couple of the presents his parents had gotten him. Luckily the gifts were wrapped, so the surprise was not ruined. Bruce didn’t trust Clark to not take a peek at his own surprise before Christmas morning.
Martha had warned him that finding places to store Clark’s presents was becoming more of a challenge as the boy got older. It was like a game now, part of the Christmas traditions along with the Festival in town on Christmas Eve and making gingerbread men for Santa. Martha said she knew Clark didn’t believe anymore, but neither wanted to give up their time together in the kitchen. He’d sat at the kitchen counter and watched as mother and son mixed the batter and cut out the shapes to bake. They had invited him to join in on making a mess but he didn’t feel right intruding. Just watching the two of them brought a bittersweet smile to his face. He still missed his mother like crazy, but the hurt was a significant degree less than it had been in a while.
After decorating the tree came the Ceremonial Lighting…Ceremony, as Clark called it. Jonathan plugged in the tree lights and they all watched as the colors would brighten and dim, then shimmer and blink to a pattern that left Clark as in awe as if he’d never see a Christmas tree before. Bruce watched Clark and suddenly felt that same wonder fill him as he turned his attention to the tree. Beautiful.
Continued in Part 2
Pairing: Bruce/Clark
Genre: Alternate Universe/Pre-Slash/Slash
Rating: PG for now
Summary: The friendship before they donned the capes
Notes: Inspired by "When Clark Met Bruce" by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale
All previous chapters can be found at blaknbluseries.
I'm having the damnedest time posting this blasted thing to the comm, so I'm posting it to my journal for now.
Summer 1998
May 18, 1998
Hey Bruce,
I just heard the news. I wish you would have told me, but I guess if it were me I'd be afraid to tell you. But I'm not mad, not at all. I think its great that your school is sending you to Europe. It's worth missing a summer with ol' me. If you keep this up, you'll graduate from high school before I even get there, ha ha. But I knew that big ol' brain of yours would get you in trouble. Have fun and take pictures.
Love,
Clark
May 26, 1998
Clark,
You do realize that this summer accelerated program is going to suck, don't you? You don't think I'd rather be going to Smallville and lighting our rocket? I even built a booster! The rocket probably could've made it past the stratosphere (before the upper atmosphere froze it and it came crashing back to Earth, that is). Tomorrow is the first day, so by the time you get this, I may have already died of boredom. If that happens, I want you to have my collection of Grey Ghost comics and action figures. I’m leaving instructions with Alfred. In the meantime, I’m leaving my address at the stupid boarding school so I won’t want to rip my hair out from boredom.
Bruce
June 3, 1998
Bruce,
I'm wasting this sheet of paper to tell you that you are overdramatic. That doesn't mean that I'm not making lots of copies of your letter to take with me to the reading of your will.
Clark
July 21, 1998
Bruce,
I changed my mind. You officially suck. This summer has been totally and completely boring and it’s all your fault. Since we don’t have a houseguest this summer, it’s like Dad doubled my chores, and I get no time off for good behavior. I didn’t have time to go camping with the guys this time because Mom and Dad are making me help them in Topeka at some stupid conference for organic farmers. Why do you hate me, Bruce? What did I ever do to you?
You suck,
Clark
August 2, 1998
E.T.
Tell me how you really feel. I just got back from Oxford, which is in England. Talk about stuffy. If it makes you feel better, I had to wear a tie ALL SUMMER. Even at my school here in Gotham we get to wear jeans on Fridays. And the head master there was a huge jerk. (He really was huge. Probably about 8 feet tall with a mustache and these beady little eyes.) It’s too bad you couldn’t have run across the ocean to rescue me. Thank God it’s over, though. I did manage to make a couple friends there, but none of them had the appreciation of good quality comics or rockets like you. Oh well, school starts in a couple weeks. It’s gonna suck being the youngest freshman in my class, but at least I’ll still get to see Tommy every day. He says hi, by the way. And he says to ask your mom if she’ll send more of her cookies.
Bruce
Winter 1998
Bruce exited the airport gate, shifting his carry-on bag to his other shoulder. He made sure that nothing inside had gotten squished; he really hoped Clark liked his Christmas present this year. Bruce had practically tackled Alfred when he learned that his guardian and Mrs. Kent had arranged for him to spend Christmas in Smallville this year. It was supposed to be a surprise for Clark, but for Bruce it was the best Christmas present he could have asked for. He turned back towards the gate he’d just exited and sighed exasperatedly.
“Alfred! Come on!” He would have laughed at his butler’s need to be proper while exiting a plane if Bruce wasn’t so anxious to find the Kents so they could get to Smallville and the farm.
As if on cue, Bruce turned around and saw the familiar red hair. He beamed and ran two steps toward Martha before he glanced at his guardian and remembered the rules of decorum.
"Don't hold back on my account," Alfred smiled down at him, and Bruce wasted no time rushing to engulf Mrs. Kent in a big hug.
"Oh my, how you've grown," Martha gushed when she released him, noting the fact that he was just an inch taller than her now.
"Must be that broccoli Alfred keeps making me eat."
Martha joined in with the laughter. "I wish I could say the same for Clark. I don't know what that boy has been eating to be growing so fast."
"Probably everything," Bruce rolled his eyes, causing Martha to giggle more though she swatted him playfully. After greeting Alfred in a much more subdued manner, the three of them proceeded to baggage claim and then they were on their way to Smallville in the Kents' family truck.
"I'm sorry about the vehicle," Martha blushed, adjusting the heat controls futilely.
"Nonsense, Mrs. Kent," Alfred dismissed. "I have certainly traveled under worse conditions."
Martha smiled gratefully; she and Alfred made small talk during three hour drive to the farm while Bruce bubbled with restrained anticipation. He couldn't wait to get to the farm and see Mr. Kent. But Bruce wasn't to cool to admit that he was most excited about seeing his best friend, E.T. A giggle at the nickname escaped his throat, but the two adults only glanced at him briefly before attributing it to excitement.
The yellow farmhouse hadn’t changed, not that Bruce expected it to. The only difference was the Christmas lights decorating the house and even the barn. Wayne Manor was far too large to adorn with lights and fake reindeer pulling a jolly Santa in his sleigh, so Bruce had beamed at the multi-colored display and guessed at which decorations were Clark’s influence.
Martha explained that Jonathan was keeping Clark occupied away from the farm while the three of them set up the surprise. Bruce felt like the Grey Ghost, setting up a sting operation in the suspect’s own lair. He ran upstairs to Clark's bedroom to put his suitcase away, and left a little something sitting on Clark’s bed before dashing back down the stairs. He found the adults in the kitchen where he left them, Martha preparing hot chocolate for an uncomfortable looking Alfred. The poor guy looked like he wanted to snatch the pot away from Mrs. Kent and do it himself.
Bruce joined Alfred at the kitchen table and watched Mrs. Kent stir the milk into the pot. Although he couldn't wait for the treat to be ready, he was more anxious to see Clark's face when he walked through the door.
Not too long after, Bruce heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He jumped in his seat, and Martha had to remind him to stay quiet. She ushered the two of them into the alcove under the stairs and waited for the Kent men to come inside.
From his vantage point, Bruce watched as Jonathan opened the backdoor and gave Martha an expectant look. Martha gave him a silent thumbs-up and the two of them schooled their features as Clark came inside.
"What are you guys up to?" Clark asked immediately as he entered the house, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He walked into the house warily, and Bruce had to suppress a gasp at how tall Clark had gotten. He could tell that when they stand next to each other that Clark will be a couple inches taller than him. Clark’s hair was longer, curling over his ears and almost falling into his wide blue eyes. Bruce didn’t know whether he liked it or not. It looked good on Clark, but Bruce could barely see his face.
“Obviously, we’re hiding your Christmas present,” Martha said with a playful roll of her eyes. Clark shook his head at his parents with a chuckle. “Go upstairs and wash your hands before you get some of this hot chocolate.”
Martha barely completed her sentence when Clark rushed out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Martha’s hand twitched towards her heart, and instantly Bruce knew what she had panicked about. Fortunately, Clark used normal speed to climb the stairs and she visibly relaxed, venturing a brief glance at their position under the stairs. Bruce felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that the charade the Kents would be putting on throughout their visit was in vain. At least on Bruce’s part.
“You can come out,” Jonathan whispered, beckoning them with his hand as his eyes stayed fixed towards the stairs
“We should probably put him out of his misery,” Bruce shrugged, knowing their own charade would be over as soon as Clark entered his room anyway. The clue he left on the bed would give away the surprise and if the shout of joy that just came from upstairs was any indication, Bruce knew that Clark was now in on the secret.
“Bruce!” Clark exclaimed as Bruce leaned against the doorjamb. The next thing Bruce knew, he was being crushed by flannel-clad arms. Not only had Clark gotten taller, but he was stronger as well, Bruce thought to himself as he struggled to breathe.
“Missed…you…too,” Bruce managed between breaths. Clark let him go abruptly.
“I’m so sorry,” Clark said immediately, his hands flew up to catch Bruce as he stumbled backward.
“Stop it, I’m just messing with you,” Bruce chuckled, and it was then he noticed Clark was holding the present he left on the bed. “I see you got your pre-Christmas gift.”
Clark’s smile was blinding. “As soon as I saw it, I knew you were here.”
“It reminded me of you, for obvious reasons.” Bruce knew that they were both too old for stuffed animals, but he saw it in a retro store in Gotham and he couldn’t resist. “Press its hand.”
Clark obeyed, and then threw his head back in laughter as the stuffed toy declared “E.T. phone home.”
“That’s awesome,” Clark said as he calmed. “How long are you staying?”
Bruce couldn’t suppress the pleasure he felt at seeing how happy Clark was to see him. “For the whole break. Two weeks.”
“I guess my parents outdid themselves this year,” Clark grinned. “No one’s ever given me a Bruce for Christmas before. I think I owe them a car or something.”
Bruce rolled his eyes, but that pleasure he felt before was nothing compared to now.
“Wipe your feet!” Martha admonished as the two boys ran laughing into the house dripping with snow from head to toe.
“Sorry, mom.”
“Sorry, Martha.”
She shook her head in amusement as the boys ran up the stairs, hopefully to change their sodden clothes. She turned back to her pie crust and the man sitting across from her.
“I take it this is what I’ve been missing out on these past few years,” said Alfred with a raised eyebrow. Martha finally gave in and laughed. The boys hadn’t even noticed Alfred sitting at the counter, a hot cup of tea in hand. Martha had insisted that Alfred do no work while in Smallville. Alfred had insisted on at least keeping her company while she prepared the deserts for the annual Christmas Festival in town.
“I’ll bet now you’re relieved that we’re the ones that have to put up with the chaos,” Martha smirked.
“On the contrary,” Alfred mused, “seeing Master Bruce behave like a child has been my greatest wish since…well, for a while, Madame.”
“Martha,” she corrected gentle, though her amusement was quickly replaced with guilt. She cleared her throat. “Bruce has been a wonderful friend to Clark.”
“I imagine Bruce sees Clark as the brother he always wanted, and he speaks of you and Mr.-and Jonathan with a reverence he usually reserves for his parents.”
Martha felt her eyes sting. “I’ll admit that it feels like I have two sons when Bruce comes to visit.”
Alfred gave a warm smile. “I’ll take that as a great compliment.”
Jonathan was sawing wooden planks when Alfred entered the barn. Jonathan turned at the sound of approaching footsteps and cast a furtive glance over Alfred’s shoulder to the entrance of the barn.
“She and the boys have gone for more tree decorations,” Alfred said in an exaggerated whisper. Jonathan accepted the mug of steaming hot chocolate from Alfred’s outstretched hand. “I believe we’re safe for the time being.”
“You can never be too careful with Martha,” Jonathan said in a low voice, as if his wife could hear them from the house. “If she knew you were helping me out here, she’d kill me and sell me for parts.” Alfred winced at the imagery, but heeded the wise words and quietly grabbed a pair of work gloves.
“Dismemberment aside,” Alfred deadpanned, “on behalf of Master Bruce and myself, I would like to once again thank you for your hospitality in hosting us for the holidays, I know this is a time for family-“
“Now hold on there,” Jonathan interrupted, “Bruce is as much a part of this family as my own son, and I know you feel the same about my boy, so no more of this formality, alright?”
Alfred nodded in understanding. “I’ll try to, as Master Clark would say, ‘chill out’.”
Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh at the stiffly delivered phrase. “If you’re comfortable enough to risk my wife’s wrath when, and I do mean when she finds out that you’ve been helping me with this, then I say welcome to the family.”
“I’d rather not be presumptuous, Jonathan,” Alfred struggled with the familiarity, but Jonathan appreciated the effort. “It has been a long while since Master Bruce has had any semblance of a normal family.”
Jonathan stopped sawing and looked at his friend. “Bruce loves you,” he said with certainty. “Even without my family, I’m sure Bruce would’ve grown to become an extraordinary man with you raising him.”
“That means a lot,” Alfred nodded solemnly, holding the next beam steady for Jonathan to saw. “In any case, I’m most certain that his parents are pleased that he’s met such a remarkable family to become a part of.”
Jonathan was man enough to admit that Alfred’s words made him feel proud. The guilt was something extra that he would keep to himself.
Clark playfully draped several strands of tinsel across Bruce’s head and laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Bruce shot a brief glare and smiled slowly, causing Clark to stop abruptly and swallow hard at the unspoken threat. Later, the smile promised.
The tree was pretty much completely decorated and Clark managed to get more tinsel on himself than the actual tree. Bruce shook his head at his friend but couldn’t deny that Clark’s joy was infectious. He couldn’t wait to see Clark’s face at his other present. Which reminded him that he needed to find somewhere to stash it for the next couple of days so Clark wouldn’t “accidentally” find it the way he “accidentally” found a couple of the presents his parents had gotten him. Luckily the gifts were wrapped, so the surprise was not ruined. Bruce didn’t trust Clark to not take a peek at his own surprise before Christmas morning.
Martha had warned him that finding places to store Clark’s presents was becoming more of a challenge as the boy got older. It was like a game now, part of the Christmas traditions along with the Festival in town on Christmas Eve and making gingerbread men for Santa. Martha said she knew Clark didn’t believe anymore, but neither wanted to give up their time together in the kitchen. He’d sat at the kitchen counter and watched as mother and son mixed the batter and cut out the shapes to bake. They had invited him to join in on making a mess but he didn’t feel right intruding. Just watching the two of them brought a bittersweet smile to his face. He still missed his mother like crazy, but the hurt was a significant degree less than it had been in a while.
After decorating the tree came the Ceremonial Lighting…Ceremony, as Clark called it. Jonathan plugged in the tree lights and they all watched as the colors would brighten and dim, then shimmer and blink to a pattern that left Clark as in awe as if he’d never see a Christmas tree before. Bruce watched Clark and suddenly felt that same wonder fill him as he turned his attention to the tree. Beautiful.
Continued in Part 2