Dissemblance
Title: Dissemblance
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Batman, Clark/Superman (pre-slash/deep friendship)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Oh, darn! You mean I don't own them? xP
“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.” -Unknown
X
“GOTHAM’S BATMAN SIGHTED IN METROPOLIS!” The morning issue of the Daily Planet sits on the table as I glare at it. (This is one of the reasons I don’t want to be involved with anyone else as Batman.) The writer, Clark Kent, has printed an article about the new partnership between Superman and the “Dark Knight,” as they’re now calling me. The article wouldn’t annoy me if it weren’t for the last two paragraphs-
“But what caused the Batman to come to Metropolis and initiate the partnership? Why did the Joker and his assistant, Harley Quinn, decide to hit up our city instead of sticking close to home as they’ve always done in the past? Only Batman could say, and he’s not talking.
“Why does he hide in the shadows? Why would he want his good-great-deeds to go unnoticed? Whoever the Batman is, I know that we would all like to hear from him.”
It’s a clear challenge. He wants me to show myself in public and give them enough for the papers.
My cell phone rings, and I reach over and flip it open. Annoyed, I bark, “What?”
“Good morning to you as well, Master Bruce,” answers Alfred, patient as ever. I sigh, feeling bad about snapping at him and unconsciously run a hand through my hair.
“Sorry, Alfred,” I say. “But this reporter, Kent, he wrote an article about me.”
“I saw, sir. The article is actually the reason I called,” Alfred tells me. “He’s clearly challenging you. Are you going to accept?” (Thank goodness my paranoia isn’t making me imagine this whole ridiculous situation-Alfred sees it too.)
“What choice do I have?” I ask softly. “I have to be able to work with Superman to catch the Joker’s employer, and to work comfortably with Superman, I can’t have his entire city against me.” I can imagine Alfred nodding, looking speculative.
“A fair point, Master Bruce,” Alfred responds. “Might I suggest appearing at a press conference as Batman with your new partner?”
“Acquaintance, Alfred, not partner,” I correct. (Partner makes it sound like we’re friends-that is a luxury I cannot afford. Even though Superman can protect himself against enemies who might use any connection against us, he might find out who I really am. That is a risk that I’m unable to take.)
“Of course, sir,” answers Alfred, amusement shining through in his voice. I scowl, knowing he thinks that I’ve found someone who could understand this “hero nonsense,” as he puts it.
“Really, Alfred-” I stop as I hear a crackling in my other ear. It’s the transmitter I linked to the one I gave Superman. “I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Very good, sir,” he answers. “I’ll expect you home tomorrow evening as planned, then?”
“Yes,” I tell him, and hang up. I switch on the earpiece in the other ear and pitch my voice to match the low, rough tenor of Batman’s voice. “Superman.”
“Batman,” he answers, and I can hear traffic in the background. He’s probably on top of some building, out where anyone can see him (not very subtle, is he?). “I’ve gotten a lead on who sent the Joker and his assistant.” So have I, but I don’t tell him this. I’ll wait and see if his information matches mine before making a move.
Instead of responding, I wait for him to continue. There is a moment of rustling and silence before he continues. “I think they’re working with Lex Luthor.” I nod to myself: it’s exactly what I expected. I’m about to say goodbye and hang up before I remind myself that I still have something he doesn’t know (if you’re going to work with him, you’re going to have to learn how to share information).
“Luthor’s working with someone else,” I tell him. More specifically, I think Luthor is working with the government, or at least a faction of it. But I can’t prove connections anywhere near that caliber yet, so I decide not to say anything.
“How sure are you?” asks Superman, sounding concerned. I wonder if Luthor’s worked with others in the past that would worry the “Man of Steel.”
“Sure,” I respond flatly. There is a beeping sound coming from the table, and I turn back to it. The programme I installed into my laptop informs me that the Joker and Harley are hitting up a tech warehouse. I fold down the screen and head to the hotel suite’s bedroom to change into the suit. “The Joker’s at a tech warehouse on ninth street.”
“Is that what the address said?” he asks, sounding surprised. I assure him that I’m not mistaken with a grunted “yes.” “Batman, that’s a Lexcorp warehouse.” I sigh and tell him I’ll meet him there in a few minutes.
I make a note to call Alfred and tell him that I’ll be a few more days than expected in getting back home to Gotham.
X
I finish up the article just in time for the morning edition of the paper, earning an “atta boy” from Perry. I know I shouldn’t be accusing Batman of being suspicious since I’m working with him now, but I would like answers to those questions (and many more). Maybe if I can just get him to agree to a press conference or an interview, I can learn enough about him to figure out who he is (but I’m not looking under the mask-that would take all the fun out of things).
I spend a few hours doing more research on the Joker before I make the obvious conclusion: Lex Luthor paid him and Harley Quinn to come here to kill me. I go on a search for proof to back up my theory and strike gold. I find it when I hack into Arkham’s files and take a peek at the visitor’s log: one of Luthor’s goons visited the Joker the day before the demented clown broke free (again).
I take my lunch break early again and head up to the roof of the Daily Planet building. I’m just about to call Batman and tell him what I’ve found out when the door opens and Lois comes out.
“Hey Clark,” she greets me casually. “Slow day so far.”
“Still early, Lois,” I answer with a smile. “There’s more than enough time for some maniac or other to come calling.” She laughs, and we spend a moment looking down at the gleaming buildings of Metropolis. It’s a beautiful city, and while it will never replace Smallville as my home, it’s certainly worked its way into my heart.
“I wonder what Batman sees in that cesspool of a city,” Lois murmurs. (I’ve wondered that myself, Lois.) I try to answer her.
“It’s his home,” I say with a shrug. “Commissioner Gordon said that Batman hopes to start by running the crime families out of Gotham and working his way down from there. Of course, there are also more than enough psychos to keep him occupied.”
“Like Joker,” she says. “I wonder why he came here.”
“I have a few ideas,” I tell her with a smirk.
“Let me guess, you’re going to make me wait for the article?” she asks with a sigh and a raised eyebrow. I respond with a wink. “Fine, Smallville, be that way.” She grins at me to let me know she isn’t serious and walks back inside. I lean against the door to stop anyone else from coming up as I activate the transmitter.
As I talk to Batman, I know there’s something he isn’t telling me and I wonder why he’s keeping something from me. We’re partners now, so we shouldn’t have to hide any information from each other. Maybe he just has a feeling and not enough proof to back it up? Knowing the kind of attention to detail the Bat indulges in, it seems more than likely that he would want something concrete before voicing anything.
He tells me that the Joker is at Lexcorp’s warehouse, and I’m tempted to go running to Lois. (Here’s an end to your quiet day.) Instead, I take off my civilian clothes and fold them, hiding them in a shadowed corner of the roof before flying off to meet my partner.
X
Ooooh, the plot thickens! :D Short chapter here, not much action, but it was necessary to set things up.
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Batman, Clark/Superman (pre-slash/deep friendship)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Oh, darn! You mean I don't own them? xP
“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.” -Unknown
X
“GOTHAM’S BATMAN SIGHTED IN METROPOLIS!” The morning issue of the Daily Planet sits on the table as I glare at it. (This is one of the reasons I don’t want to be involved with anyone else as Batman.) The writer, Clark Kent, has printed an article about the new partnership between Superman and the “Dark Knight,” as they’re now calling me. The article wouldn’t annoy me if it weren’t for the last two paragraphs-
“But what caused the Batman to come to Metropolis and initiate the partnership? Why did the Joker and his assistant, Harley Quinn, decide to hit up our city instead of sticking close to home as they’ve always done in the past? Only Batman could say, and he’s not talking.
“Why does he hide in the shadows? Why would he want his good-great-deeds to go unnoticed? Whoever the Batman is, I know that we would all like to hear from him.”
It’s a clear challenge. He wants me to show myself in public and give them enough for the papers.
My cell phone rings, and I reach over and flip it open. Annoyed, I bark, “What?”
“Good morning to you as well, Master Bruce,” answers Alfred, patient as ever. I sigh, feeling bad about snapping at him and unconsciously run a hand through my hair.
“Sorry, Alfred,” I say. “But this reporter, Kent, he wrote an article about me.”
“I saw, sir. The article is actually the reason I called,” Alfred tells me. “He’s clearly challenging you. Are you going to accept?” (Thank goodness my paranoia isn’t making me imagine this whole ridiculous situation-Alfred sees it too.)
“What choice do I have?” I ask softly. “I have to be able to work with Superman to catch the Joker’s employer, and to work comfortably with Superman, I can’t have his entire city against me.” I can imagine Alfred nodding, looking speculative.
“A fair point, Master Bruce,” Alfred responds. “Might I suggest appearing at a press conference as Batman with your new partner?”
“Acquaintance, Alfred, not partner,” I correct. (Partner makes it sound like we’re friends-that is a luxury I cannot afford. Even though Superman can protect himself against enemies who might use any connection against us, he might find out who I really am. That is a risk that I’m unable to take.)
“Of course, sir,” answers Alfred, amusement shining through in his voice. I scowl, knowing he thinks that I’ve found someone who could understand this “hero nonsense,” as he puts it.
“Really, Alfred-” I stop as I hear a crackling in my other ear. It’s the transmitter I linked to the one I gave Superman. “I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Very good, sir,” he answers. “I’ll expect you home tomorrow evening as planned, then?”
“Yes,” I tell him, and hang up. I switch on the earpiece in the other ear and pitch my voice to match the low, rough tenor of Batman’s voice. “Superman.”
“Batman,” he answers, and I can hear traffic in the background. He’s probably on top of some building, out where anyone can see him (not very subtle, is he?). “I’ve gotten a lead on who sent the Joker and his assistant.” So have I, but I don’t tell him this. I’ll wait and see if his information matches mine before making a move.
Instead of responding, I wait for him to continue. There is a moment of rustling and silence before he continues. “I think they’re working with Lex Luthor.” I nod to myself: it’s exactly what I expected. I’m about to say goodbye and hang up before I remind myself that I still have something he doesn’t know (if you’re going to work with him, you’re going to have to learn how to share information).
“Luthor’s working with someone else,” I tell him. More specifically, I think Luthor is working with the government, or at least a faction of it. But I can’t prove connections anywhere near that caliber yet, so I decide not to say anything.
“How sure are you?” asks Superman, sounding concerned. I wonder if Luthor’s worked with others in the past that would worry the “Man of Steel.”
“Sure,” I respond flatly. There is a beeping sound coming from the table, and I turn back to it. The programme I installed into my laptop informs me that the Joker and Harley are hitting up a tech warehouse. I fold down the screen and head to the hotel suite’s bedroom to change into the suit. “The Joker’s at a tech warehouse on ninth street.”
“Is that what the address said?” he asks, sounding surprised. I assure him that I’m not mistaken with a grunted “yes.” “Batman, that’s a Lexcorp warehouse.” I sigh and tell him I’ll meet him there in a few minutes.
I make a note to call Alfred and tell him that I’ll be a few more days than expected in getting back home to Gotham.
X
I finish up the article just in time for the morning edition of the paper, earning an “atta boy” from Perry. I know I shouldn’t be accusing Batman of being suspicious since I’m working with him now, but I would like answers to those questions (and many more). Maybe if I can just get him to agree to a press conference or an interview, I can learn enough about him to figure out who he is (but I’m not looking under the mask-that would take all the fun out of things).
I spend a few hours doing more research on the Joker before I make the obvious conclusion: Lex Luthor paid him and Harley Quinn to come here to kill me. I go on a search for proof to back up my theory and strike gold. I find it when I hack into Arkham’s files and take a peek at the visitor’s log: one of Luthor’s goons visited the Joker the day before the demented clown broke free (again).
I take my lunch break early again and head up to the roof of the Daily Planet building. I’m just about to call Batman and tell him what I’ve found out when the door opens and Lois comes out.
“Hey Clark,” she greets me casually. “Slow day so far.”
“Still early, Lois,” I answer with a smile. “There’s more than enough time for some maniac or other to come calling.” She laughs, and we spend a moment looking down at the gleaming buildings of Metropolis. It’s a beautiful city, and while it will never replace Smallville as my home, it’s certainly worked its way into my heart.
“I wonder what Batman sees in that cesspool of a city,” Lois murmurs. (I’ve wondered that myself, Lois.) I try to answer her.
“It’s his home,” I say with a shrug. “Commissioner Gordon said that Batman hopes to start by running the crime families out of Gotham and working his way down from there. Of course, there are also more than enough psychos to keep him occupied.”
“Like Joker,” she says. “I wonder why he came here.”
“I have a few ideas,” I tell her with a smirk.
“Let me guess, you’re going to make me wait for the article?” she asks with a sigh and a raised eyebrow. I respond with a wink. “Fine, Smallville, be that way.” She grins at me to let me know she isn’t serious and walks back inside. I lean against the door to stop anyone else from coming up as I activate the transmitter.
As I talk to Batman, I know there’s something he isn’t telling me and I wonder why he’s keeping something from me. We’re partners now, so we shouldn’t have to hide any information from each other. Maybe he just has a feeling and not enough proof to back it up? Knowing the kind of attention to detail the Bat indulges in, it seems more than likely that he would want something concrete before voicing anything.
He tells me that the Joker is at Lexcorp’s warehouse, and I’m tempted to go running to Lois. (Here’s an end to your quiet day.) Instead, I take off my civilian clothes and fold them, hiding them in a shadowed corner of the roof before flying off to meet my partner.
X
Ooooh, the plot thickens! :D Short chapter here, not much action, but it was necessary to set things up.