Music of the Spheres Coda: Reverberations
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: "Music of the Spheres" is a series set in the combined universes of "Batman Begins" and "Superman Returns." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bruce and Clark lay the groundwork for their partnership as Batman and Superman, and face their greatest challenge ever: charming Lois and Alfred, respectively. The final part of "Music of the Spheres"--it should have been Chapter 13, but I found myself oddly superstitious, so it's a "coda." *grin* I will probably write more within this universe though!
Word Count: 3184
A figure was seated in a dimly lit room, watching a recording of a celebrity gossip show. The top news of the day was Superman's rescue of Bruce Wayne, and the subsequent revelation that the playboy billionaire was involved with a male Metropolis reporter.
The figure leaned forward as Superman and Bruce Wayne landed on the deck of the ship. When Bruce Wayne said "I couldn't have done it without the help of Superman, here," the figure's eyes narrowed. He paused the recording.
When Bruce Wayne kissed Clark Kent's hand and said "My hero," the figure hissed between his teeth.
This was serious. This was serious indeed.
The figure consulted a piece of paper, picked up a phone and started dialing.
Plans had to be made.
: : :
"I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"If we're going to work together, we have to know what our limits are, right?" Batman stood on a building in Metropolis, hours after Luthor had been carted off, still-ranting. "I don't want to wait for an emergency to find out how quickly we can get somewhere." His voice was pitched low and raspy even though no one was around. Clark marveled once again at the fact that this avatar of dark vengeance was also his bedmate.
"I've never flown anywhere close to full speed holding a human. Except that one time, but you were almost dead already. My cape should protect you from the worst of the friction, but--" Superman broke off as Batman nudged himself into his arms.
"It's important to know how fast you can safely go with me."
"You're not just doing this because you're some kind of speed freak, are you?"
"Who, me?"
Superman sighed and wrapped his cape around Batman, scooping him up into a full carry. Bruce's voice--his real voice--emerged rather indistinctly from inside the cape: "After I finish rebuilding the Manor I think I'll have you carry me over the threshold." His voice dropped back down into Batman grittiness. "Make sure to fly low and stay under radar and out of sight."
"That's another thing I don't like," complained Superman.
"Kal, we both agreed that people would be less likely to link Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent to Superman and Batman if we cordially loathe each other. Plus if people assume we won't work together because we dislike each other, criminals will be more likely to underestimate us."
"I pity the fool who underestimates you."
"Me too." The faintest hint of laughter through the gravel. "And finally, we don't want to tarnish Superman's reputation by having him associate with a vigilante."
Superman snorted. "I still think the main reason is you like the idea of throwing a public hissy fit whenever I enter 'your' city."
"The irony does appeal. Hey--no tickling."
Superman straightened his fingers with an effort, tightened his arms slightly around his armful of Bat. "You ready?"
"You're the one stalling."
"All right then." Superman took off from the roof, picking up speed as he went, listening carefully to Batman's heartbeat. The heartbeat was a little fast, but strong and steady, so he pushed it a bit harder, salty air whipping by them, the whir of speed humming all around them. Soon he was at close to top speed. The heartbeat below his hands accelerated until Kal started to be worried. He pulled to a stop three minutes after he started. The heartbeat beneath his cape continued to hammer. "Batman?" The person in the cape was alarmingly silent. "B?" Even shaking slightly. "Bruce?" Kal panicked. He'd hurt him somehow, he'd pushed him too far...
Batman emerged from the red cape and looked around him at the ice-sheer cliffs of Antarctica, pulling off his cowl to better look around. He was trembling. He grabbed Superman's costume at the neck, dragging him close, his eyes full of fierce elation.
"Kal, Kal, my God...what we can do together!"
: : :
A Gotham hospital room. Lieutenant James Gordon is by the mayor's bedside. Someone--they think the Maroni family--has managed to poison him in retaliation for recent crackdowns. When the nurse leaves the room the air stirs, the curtains move: Batman is checking the mayor's medical records.
Gordon sighs. "The doctors say the only antidote is synthesized from an enzyme found in the salivary glands of a small, endangered tree frog in the Amazonian rainforest, and the Maronis took out the only supply of the drug in a hit last week. Hopeless, unless you happen to have some tree-frog salivary glands in a specimen jar somewhere."
Batman grunts. "Keep an eye on the mayor." He doesn't have to say that someone close to the mayor, maybe someone in the police force, probably administered the poison. The curtains move again.
Three hours later he's back with a small vial. "This should do the trick."
Gordon holds the vial to the harsh hospital light. Bottled hope, a man's life saved. "You keep rare Amazonian tree frogs in your cave?"
"Just their salivary glands. Next to the eye of newt."
Jim Gordon can almost believe it.
: : :
Bruce Wayne walked into the offices of the Daily Planet carrying a large, shiny paper bag. Ignoring Clark, he walked straight up to Lois Lane's desk. Richard White stood up from his own desk; Bruce took a deep breath and addressed Lois, including Richard in his attention as well.
"Ms. Lane, Clark has informed me that Lex Luthor has done a great deal to endanger you and your family. I want you to know that I bitterly, deeply regret ever throwing my lot in with him. It was a stupid decision, and I am very, very sorry." He reached into the bag and pulled out a dozen red roses. "Trite, I know," he said at the look on Lois's face. "But please believe me that the sentiment behind them is sincere. If there is ever anything I can do to make it up to you more meaningfully, please let me know."
Lois eyed Bruce. "Actually...we've ordered hoagies from D'Amato's, across the street. Usually I'd send Jimmy to pick them up, but would you be a dear and go fetch them instead?" She held out a wad of bills to him and smiled.
It was a test and both of them knew it.
Bruce grinned easily back at her. "Just across the street, right? I saw it as I came in." He plucked the money out of her hand. "I'll be right back with lunch, then."
He paused and met her eyes squarely. "Thank you." As he left the newsroom, he may or may not have winked reassuringly at Clark, sitting tense at his desk.
Lois dropped the roses on her desk and came over to Clark's, pulling up a chair and sitting next to him. Clark shuffled a few papers. "You know," said Lois thoughtfully, "He might just be good for you, Clark." At Clark's surprised look, she continued. "You can get so glum and introverted sometimes. You lack confidence. You need someone sunny and cheerful like Bruce in your life--you know, to draw you out. He seems like a decent, friendly guy, and Lord knows Luthor's fooled smarter men then him." Clark coughed and she added hastily, "Oh, it's not that he seems dumb...not per se. But he's not exactly Einstein, you know?" She smiled at Clark. "That's not what you need anyway. You...you seem to care for him very much."
"He's my reason for living," Clark said, then looked rather embarrassed and shuffled more papers.
Lois watched him affectionately for a moment, then reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm just happy to see you happy. And, if he ever breaks your heart, I'll break his kneecaps."
Clark snorted a gust of laughter, as though the image of Lois kneecapping Bruce Wayne was too funny for words. As he did, Bruce came back through the door with a bag full of sandwiches and distributed them cheerfully throughout the office. He handed Lois and Clark theirs last. Clark split his in half and handed it to him to share, and the three of them ate in silence for a moment.
Lois looked over at Richard and tilted her head questioningly. He shrugged back and nodded slightly. She turned back to Clark.
"You know, Richard, Jimmy and I are going to take the munchkin to the football game this Sunday and we've got a couple of extra tickets...would you like to come along? You can even bring Bruce, if he promises not to be too smug when Gotham trounces the Metros yet again."
It was Clark's turn to look at Bruce, Bruce's turn to shrug and smile. "I think I can find the time to come down, but I can't make any promises about not being smug." Lois rolled her eyes.
Clark beamed. "Gee, Lois, that'd be swell."
: : :
Superman hovers in the middle of the street, his arms crossed, as the Intergang lieutenant triumphantly brings to bear on him a ridiculously gigantic cannon of some sort, all tubes and sparking bits. "Your interference in Metropolis is at an end, Man of Steel!" he cackles. "This ultrasonic decapacitator is designed to stop even you! Prepare to be pulverized!"
Superman raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
The Intergang villain aims the cannon at the red "S," then presses the button theatrically.
Nothing happens. Well, the cannon makes an embarrassing "doink" sound, but nothing more.
Superman produces a shiny little widget, holds it up in the air. "I'm sorry, did your uber kill-Superman machine require this piece to work? I took the liberty of removing it a couple of hours ago." He smiles.
In his ear, a sardonic chuckle. "You could have mentioned that to him before he went through the whole Villainous Rant, you drama queen."
Superman's smile widens just a bit.
: : :
Clark and Bruce picked their way through the construction surrounding Wayne Manor, making their way back toward the stables and the servants' quarters.
"There's no reason to be nervous, Clark."
"The man's practically your father, Bruce, and last time we met it didn't go so well. He kind of chewed me out."
"You're not trespassing this time. You're a guest. And he knows you're coming, I called and asked him to make dinner for us." Bruce skirted a pile of rubble. "I win over Lois in the morning, you win over Alfred in the evening, all in a good day's work."
"I'm not 'cheerful' and 'sunny' like you, though, " Clark muttered just a little resentfully. "And we've got a slightly harder discussion ahead of us, don't you think?"
"Harder than having to apologize in public to your former girlfriend? I doubt that." Bruce swung open the door to the makeshift apartments he was staying in behind the manor. "Alfred? We're home." Clark felt a warm glow at the sound of the last two words, which he allowed to lift his mood somewhat.
The butler came into the cluttered room smiling, and gave Bruce a clap on the shoulder before turning to Clark. "And Mister Kent. Wayne Manor--such as it is--welcomes you again."
Clark held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Pennyworth. Um, I hope we can get off on a better footing this time." He smiled nervously and brushed hair out of his eyes.
The other man raised his eyebrows, eyeing Clark appraisingly. "Shall we start by having you call me Alfred?" At Clark's smiling nod, he went on, "I have some supper ready for you both if you'll have a seat in the dining room."
"Actually, Alfred," said Bruce, "There are a few things we really do need to discuss."
"Master Wayne, it's well past suppertime and anything you have to discuss can wait until after you've eaten." Bruce shrugged at Clark and they sat down.
Alfred brought out two bowls of steaming chili and a basket full of cornbread. Clark took a bite and grinned. "This is fantastic! It's even tofu chili!"
"Tofu?" Bruce wrinkled his nose. "Alfred's never made tofu chili before."
"Don't be ridiculous, Bruce, when it's simmered in cumin and chile pepper you can't tell the difference." Clark took another huge spoonful and helped himself to some cornbread. "This is so great, it's just like..." his voice trailed off and he frowned at his bowl. As he considered his meal, chewing thoughtfully, Alfred returned from the kitchen.
"Oh, I took the liberty of buying a pair of coffee mugs I saw downtown this afternoon." He put the mugs down on the table: the Batman one in front of Clark, the Superman one in front of Bruce. "I think they rather suit you, and I find a nice, hot cup of coffee helps facilitate after-dinner conversation," he said smugly. "Now, what was it that you found so pressing, Master Wayne?"
Clark stared blankly at his bat-mug; Bruce started to snigger. "I told you he was sharper than I was."
"To be fair, Master Wayne, I did have the advantage of knowing your secret already. When I saw the two of you--the three of you," he amended, nodding at the still-poleaxed Clark, "together, it was fairly easy to guess the rest.
Besides," he went on with an affectionate look at Bruce, "I always knew that if Master Wayne fell in love, it would be with someone--shall we say--quite extraordinary. So when I saw reporters pestering Martha Kent to talk about her lucky boy--"
"The paparazzi are bothering my mother?" Clark stood up suddenly enough to rock the table.
"There were only a few willing to travel all the way to Kansas, sir, and she put them in their place right quick," Alfred reassured him. "In any case, once I knew she was aware of your new...friendship, I decided to call her to find out what you might require as an occasional houseguest."
Bruce pointed a spoon at him. "And that's the only reason you called?"
Alfred looked uncomfortable. "She isn't aware of your...other hobbies yet, sir, but she will probably figure it out if--as--this relationship continues. I'll admit I did want to get some sense of her personality."
Clark looked somewhat mutinous. "The fact that she's kept my secret for more than twenty-five years should tell you something."
"Indeed, sir, but there's something to be said for checking things first-hand. I believe I was able to reassure her, without saying anything imprudent, that her son was not dating some brainless pretty-boy millionaire."
Clark eyed Bruce. "Not at all. He's a billionaire." Bruce lobbed a bit of cornbread at him. "So does my mother pass the Alfred test?"
"With flying colors, sir. I was quite impressed at her ability to talk around certain topics."
Bruce put down his coffee mug with its red-and-yellow logo, which he was certainly not holding rather possessively. "If the press attention gets to be too much, she's welcome to come and stay with us. It's tight quarters here right now, but the security's pretty high."
Clark raised his eyebrows. "You'd let my mother come and stay with you? You really are in love."
Bruce shrugged dismissively. "It's mostly my fault she's getting hounded, after all."
"I'll pass the invitation on, if you're ready to deal with her trying to redecorate everything. She has a certain fondness for plaid."
Bruce shuddered elaborately, then smirked.
After dinner, Clark offered to help Alfred wash the dishes. The two of them stood over the sink, washing and wiping, as Bruce went to unpack from his trip. After a while, Clark cleared his throat. "So...do I have your blessing?"
Alfred focused on scouring a pot for a moment while Clark agonized. Then he put the pot down, turned and looked squarely at Clark. "Do your best to try and keep my boy safe."
Clark slipped his glasses off so Alfred could see his eyes unguarded. "Mr. Pennyworth, I swear I'll do anything to keep Bruce safe...anything that doesn't interfere with his--with our mission, and his autonomy."
Alfred nodded. For a moment, a relief so intense it was almost painful glinted in his eyes, and his shoulders sagged as if removing a weight. He reached out to rest his soapy hands on Clark's shoulders. "That's all I've ever hoped for," he said simply.
Then he turned back to the dishes and asked Clark about his mother's cornbread recipe and the conversation slipped easily back into safe and small topics.
After the dishes were done, Bruce took Clark through the jumble of construction to uncover a trap door in one corner of the foundations. Below was the dim cave filled with the twittering of bats and the rushing sound of the waterfall in the corner. Bruce watched Clark's face as the other man scanned the cave, taking in the tumbler, the computers, the workbenches. "This is incredible," Clark breathed.
"So speaks the man with the crystal palace full of alien tech."
"No, no, this is totally different. You did all this yourself, with your own hands. It's amazing." Clark reached down and clasped Bruce's hands, brought them to his lips. "You're amazing."
Bruce moved backwards a couple of steps, pulling at Clark, his face eager. "Let me show you everything. I want to show you everything."
It took hours to go through all of the gadgets and gear, until moonlight was glimmering through the waterfall. Finally they were at the computer, Clark standing behind Bruce with his arms wrapped around his chest. "Can you hack into Stagg Robotics' databanks?"
Bruce tapped at the keyboard. "Now, why would you want me to do something of such questionable legality?"
"The CEO is hiding something, I know it. If you can just give me something to go on, Superman can push at the right spots."
Bruce paused. He stood up, shifting in Clark's arms until they were facing each other. For a long time he looked gravely at Clark, then leaned forward to kiss him gently, tenderly, passion running just beneath the surface. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Clark's, drawing a deep breath.
"Oh, love, what we'll do together," he whispered.
Then he turned back to the computer, rubbing his hands together gleefully over the keyboard.
"Let's get to work."
: : :
It's not a perfect world. Good people still die. Bad people still succeed.
But fewer than if they weren't there; fewer than if they weren't working together.
There are still failures, and still nightmares. But there is also joy, and love.
And music, both heard and unheard.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: "Music of the Spheres" is a series set in the combined universes of "Batman Begins" and "Superman Returns." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bruce and Clark lay the groundwork for their partnership as Batman and Superman, and face their greatest challenge ever: charming Lois and Alfred, respectively. The final part of "Music of the Spheres"--it should have been Chapter 13, but I found myself oddly superstitious, so it's a "coda." *grin* I will probably write more within this universe though!
Word Count: 3184
A figure was seated in a dimly lit room, watching a recording of a celebrity gossip show. The top news of the day was Superman's rescue of Bruce Wayne, and the subsequent revelation that the playboy billionaire was involved with a male Metropolis reporter.
The figure leaned forward as Superman and Bruce Wayne landed on the deck of the ship. When Bruce Wayne said "I couldn't have done it without the help of Superman, here," the figure's eyes narrowed. He paused the recording.
When Bruce Wayne kissed Clark Kent's hand and said "My hero," the figure hissed between his teeth.
This was serious. This was serious indeed.
The figure consulted a piece of paper, picked up a phone and started dialing.
Plans had to be made.
: : :
"I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"If we're going to work together, we have to know what our limits are, right?" Batman stood on a building in Metropolis, hours after Luthor had been carted off, still-ranting. "I don't want to wait for an emergency to find out how quickly we can get somewhere." His voice was pitched low and raspy even though no one was around. Clark marveled once again at the fact that this avatar of dark vengeance was also his bedmate.
"I've never flown anywhere close to full speed holding a human. Except that one time, but you were almost dead already. My cape should protect you from the worst of the friction, but--" Superman broke off as Batman nudged himself into his arms.
"It's important to know how fast you can safely go with me."
"You're not just doing this because you're some kind of speed freak, are you?"
"Who, me?"
Superman sighed and wrapped his cape around Batman, scooping him up into a full carry. Bruce's voice--his real voice--emerged rather indistinctly from inside the cape: "After I finish rebuilding the Manor I think I'll have you carry me over the threshold." His voice dropped back down into Batman grittiness. "Make sure to fly low and stay under radar and out of sight."
"That's another thing I don't like," complained Superman.
"Kal, we both agreed that people would be less likely to link Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent to Superman and Batman if we cordially loathe each other. Plus if people assume we won't work together because we dislike each other, criminals will be more likely to underestimate us."
"I pity the fool who underestimates you."
"Me too." The faintest hint of laughter through the gravel. "And finally, we don't want to tarnish Superman's reputation by having him associate with a vigilante."
Superman snorted. "I still think the main reason is you like the idea of throwing a public hissy fit whenever I enter 'your' city."
"The irony does appeal. Hey--no tickling."
Superman straightened his fingers with an effort, tightened his arms slightly around his armful of Bat. "You ready?"
"You're the one stalling."
"All right then." Superman took off from the roof, picking up speed as he went, listening carefully to Batman's heartbeat. The heartbeat was a little fast, but strong and steady, so he pushed it a bit harder, salty air whipping by them, the whir of speed humming all around them. Soon he was at close to top speed. The heartbeat below his hands accelerated until Kal started to be worried. He pulled to a stop three minutes after he started. The heartbeat beneath his cape continued to hammer. "Batman?" The person in the cape was alarmingly silent. "B?" Even shaking slightly. "Bruce?" Kal panicked. He'd hurt him somehow, he'd pushed him too far...
Batman emerged from the red cape and looked around him at the ice-sheer cliffs of Antarctica, pulling off his cowl to better look around. He was trembling. He grabbed Superman's costume at the neck, dragging him close, his eyes full of fierce elation.
"Kal, Kal, my God...what we can do together!"
: : :
A Gotham hospital room. Lieutenant James Gordon is by the mayor's bedside. Someone--they think the Maroni family--has managed to poison him in retaliation for recent crackdowns. When the nurse leaves the room the air stirs, the curtains move: Batman is checking the mayor's medical records.
Gordon sighs. "The doctors say the only antidote is synthesized from an enzyme found in the salivary glands of a small, endangered tree frog in the Amazonian rainforest, and the Maronis took out the only supply of the drug in a hit last week. Hopeless, unless you happen to have some tree-frog salivary glands in a specimen jar somewhere."
Batman grunts. "Keep an eye on the mayor." He doesn't have to say that someone close to the mayor, maybe someone in the police force, probably administered the poison. The curtains move again.
Three hours later he's back with a small vial. "This should do the trick."
Gordon holds the vial to the harsh hospital light. Bottled hope, a man's life saved. "You keep rare Amazonian tree frogs in your cave?"
"Just their salivary glands. Next to the eye of newt."
Jim Gordon can almost believe it.
: : :
Bruce Wayne walked into the offices of the Daily Planet carrying a large, shiny paper bag. Ignoring Clark, he walked straight up to Lois Lane's desk. Richard White stood up from his own desk; Bruce took a deep breath and addressed Lois, including Richard in his attention as well.
"Ms. Lane, Clark has informed me that Lex Luthor has done a great deal to endanger you and your family. I want you to know that I bitterly, deeply regret ever throwing my lot in with him. It was a stupid decision, and I am very, very sorry." He reached into the bag and pulled out a dozen red roses. "Trite, I know," he said at the look on Lois's face. "But please believe me that the sentiment behind them is sincere. If there is ever anything I can do to make it up to you more meaningfully, please let me know."
Lois eyed Bruce. "Actually...we've ordered hoagies from D'Amato's, across the street. Usually I'd send Jimmy to pick them up, but would you be a dear and go fetch them instead?" She held out a wad of bills to him and smiled.
It was a test and both of them knew it.
Bruce grinned easily back at her. "Just across the street, right? I saw it as I came in." He plucked the money out of her hand. "I'll be right back with lunch, then."
He paused and met her eyes squarely. "Thank you." As he left the newsroom, he may or may not have winked reassuringly at Clark, sitting tense at his desk.
Lois dropped the roses on her desk and came over to Clark's, pulling up a chair and sitting next to him. Clark shuffled a few papers. "You know," said Lois thoughtfully, "He might just be good for you, Clark." At Clark's surprised look, she continued. "You can get so glum and introverted sometimes. You lack confidence. You need someone sunny and cheerful like Bruce in your life--you know, to draw you out. He seems like a decent, friendly guy, and Lord knows Luthor's fooled smarter men then him." Clark coughed and she added hastily, "Oh, it's not that he seems dumb...not per se. But he's not exactly Einstein, you know?" She smiled at Clark. "That's not what you need anyway. You...you seem to care for him very much."
"He's my reason for living," Clark said, then looked rather embarrassed and shuffled more papers.
Lois watched him affectionately for a moment, then reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm just happy to see you happy. And, if he ever breaks your heart, I'll break his kneecaps."
Clark snorted a gust of laughter, as though the image of Lois kneecapping Bruce Wayne was too funny for words. As he did, Bruce came back through the door with a bag full of sandwiches and distributed them cheerfully throughout the office. He handed Lois and Clark theirs last. Clark split his in half and handed it to him to share, and the three of them ate in silence for a moment.
Lois looked over at Richard and tilted her head questioningly. He shrugged back and nodded slightly. She turned back to Clark.
"You know, Richard, Jimmy and I are going to take the munchkin to the football game this Sunday and we've got a couple of extra tickets...would you like to come along? You can even bring Bruce, if he promises not to be too smug when Gotham trounces the Metros yet again."
It was Clark's turn to look at Bruce, Bruce's turn to shrug and smile. "I think I can find the time to come down, but I can't make any promises about not being smug." Lois rolled her eyes.
Clark beamed. "Gee, Lois, that'd be swell."
: : :
Superman hovers in the middle of the street, his arms crossed, as the Intergang lieutenant triumphantly brings to bear on him a ridiculously gigantic cannon of some sort, all tubes and sparking bits. "Your interference in Metropolis is at an end, Man of Steel!" he cackles. "This ultrasonic decapacitator is designed to stop even you! Prepare to be pulverized!"
Superman raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
The Intergang villain aims the cannon at the red "S," then presses the button theatrically.
Nothing happens. Well, the cannon makes an embarrassing "doink" sound, but nothing more.
Superman produces a shiny little widget, holds it up in the air. "I'm sorry, did your uber kill-Superman machine require this piece to work? I took the liberty of removing it a couple of hours ago." He smiles.
In his ear, a sardonic chuckle. "You could have mentioned that to him before he went through the whole Villainous Rant, you drama queen."
Superman's smile widens just a bit.
: : :
Clark and Bruce picked their way through the construction surrounding Wayne Manor, making their way back toward the stables and the servants' quarters.
"There's no reason to be nervous, Clark."
"The man's practically your father, Bruce, and last time we met it didn't go so well. He kind of chewed me out."
"You're not trespassing this time. You're a guest. And he knows you're coming, I called and asked him to make dinner for us." Bruce skirted a pile of rubble. "I win over Lois in the morning, you win over Alfred in the evening, all in a good day's work."
"I'm not 'cheerful' and 'sunny' like you, though, " Clark muttered just a little resentfully. "And we've got a slightly harder discussion ahead of us, don't you think?"
"Harder than having to apologize in public to your former girlfriend? I doubt that." Bruce swung open the door to the makeshift apartments he was staying in behind the manor. "Alfred? We're home." Clark felt a warm glow at the sound of the last two words, which he allowed to lift his mood somewhat.
The butler came into the cluttered room smiling, and gave Bruce a clap on the shoulder before turning to Clark. "And Mister Kent. Wayne Manor--such as it is--welcomes you again."
Clark held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Pennyworth. Um, I hope we can get off on a better footing this time." He smiled nervously and brushed hair out of his eyes.
The other man raised his eyebrows, eyeing Clark appraisingly. "Shall we start by having you call me Alfred?" At Clark's smiling nod, he went on, "I have some supper ready for you both if you'll have a seat in the dining room."
"Actually, Alfred," said Bruce, "There are a few things we really do need to discuss."
"Master Wayne, it's well past suppertime and anything you have to discuss can wait until after you've eaten." Bruce shrugged at Clark and they sat down.
Alfred brought out two bowls of steaming chili and a basket full of cornbread. Clark took a bite and grinned. "This is fantastic! It's even tofu chili!"
"Tofu?" Bruce wrinkled his nose. "Alfred's never made tofu chili before."
"Don't be ridiculous, Bruce, when it's simmered in cumin and chile pepper you can't tell the difference." Clark took another huge spoonful and helped himself to some cornbread. "This is so great, it's just like..." his voice trailed off and he frowned at his bowl. As he considered his meal, chewing thoughtfully, Alfred returned from the kitchen.
"Oh, I took the liberty of buying a pair of coffee mugs I saw downtown this afternoon." He put the mugs down on the table: the Batman one in front of Clark, the Superman one in front of Bruce. "I think they rather suit you, and I find a nice, hot cup of coffee helps facilitate after-dinner conversation," he said smugly. "Now, what was it that you found so pressing, Master Wayne?"
Clark stared blankly at his bat-mug; Bruce started to snigger. "I told you he was sharper than I was."
"To be fair, Master Wayne, I did have the advantage of knowing your secret already. When I saw the two of you--the three of you," he amended, nodding at the still-poleaxed Clark, "together, it was fairly easy to guess the rest.
Besides," he went on with an affectionate look at Bruce, "I always knew that if Master Wayne fell in love, it would be with someone--shall we say--quite extraordinary. So when I saw reporters pestering Martha Kent to talk about her lucky boy--"
"The paparazzi are bothering my mother?" Clark stood up suddenly enough to rock the table.
"There were only a few willing to travel all the way to Kansas, sir, and she put them in their place right quick," Alfred reassured him. "In any case, once I knew she was aware of your new...friendship, I decided to call her to find out what you might require as an occasional houseguest."
Bruce pointed a spoon at him. "And that's the only reason you called?"
Alfred looked uncomfortable. "She isn't aware of your...other hobbies yet, sir, but she will probably figure it out if--as--this relationship continues. I'll admit I did want to get some sense of her personality."
Clark looked somewhat mutinous. "The fact that she's kept my secret for more than twenty-five years should tell you something."
"Indeed, sir, but there's something to be said for checking things first-hand. I believe I was able to reassure her, without saying anything imprudent, that her son was not dating some brainless pretty-boy millionaire."
Clark eyed Bruce. "Not at all. He's a billionaire." Bruce lobbed a bit of cornbread at him. "So does my mother pass the Alfred test?"
"With flying colors, sir. I was quite impressed at her ability to talk around certain topics."
Bruce put down his coffee mug with its red-and-yellow logo, which he was certainly not holding rather possessively. "If the press attention gets to be too much, she's welcome to come and stay with us. It's tight quarters here right now, but the security's pretty high."
Clark raised his eyebrows. "You'd let my mother come and stay with you? You really are in love."
Bruce shrugged dismissively. "It's mostly my fault she's getting hounded, after all."
"I'll pass the invitation on, if you're ready to deal with her trying to redecorate everything. She has a certain fondness for plaid."
Bruce shuddered elaborately, then smirked.
After dinner, Clark offered to help Alfred wash the dishes. The two of them stood over the sink, washing and wiping, as Bruce went to unpack from his trip. After a while, Clark cleared his throat. "So...do I have your blessing?"
Alfred focused on scouring a pot for a moment while Clark agonized. Then he put the pot down, turned and looked squarely at Clark. "Do your best to try and keep my boy safe."
Clark slipped his glasses off so Alfred could see his eyes unguarded. "Mr. Pennyworth, I swear I'll do anything to keep Bruce safe...anything that doesn't interfere with his--with our mission, and his autonomy."
Alfred nodded. For a moment, a relief so intense it was almost painful glinted in his eyes, and his shoulders sagged as if removing a weight. He reached out to rest his soapy hands on Clark's shoulders. "That's all I've ever hoped for," he said simply.
Then he turned back to the dishes and asked Clark about his mother's cornbread recipe and the conversation slipped easily back into safe and small topics.
After the dishes were done, Bruce took Clark through the jumble of construction to uncover a trap door in one corner of the foundations. Below was the dim cave filled with the twittering of bats and the rushing sound of the waterfall in the corner. Bruce watched Clark's face as the other man scanned the cave, taking in the tumbler, the computers, the workbenches. "This is incredible," Clark breathed.
"So speaks the man with the crystal palace full of alien tech."
"No, no, this is totally different. You did all this yourself, with your own hands. It's amazing." Clark reached down and clasped Bruce's hands, brought them to his lips. "You're amazing."
Bruce moved backwards a couple of steps, pulling at Clark, his face eager. "Let me show you everything. I want to show you everything."
It took hours to go through all of the gadgets and gear, until moonlight was glimmering through the waterfall. Finally they were at the computer, Clark standing behind Bruce with his arms wrapped around his chest. "Can you hack into Stagg Robotics' databanks?"
Bruce tapped at the keyboard. "Now, why would you want me to do something of such questionable legality?"
"The CEO is hiding something, I know it. If you can just give me something to go on, Superman can push at the right spots."
Bruce paused. He stood up, shifting in Clark's arms until they were facing each other. For a long time he looked gravely at Clark, then leaned forward to kiss him gently, tenderly, passion running just beneath the surface. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Clark's, drawing a deep breath.
"Oh, love, what we'll do together," he whispered.
Then he turned back to the computer, rubbing his hands together gleefully over the keyboard.
"Let's get to work."
: : :
It's not a perfect world. Good people still die. Bad people still succeed.
But fewer than if they weren't there; fewer than if they weren't working together.
There are still failures, and still nightmares. But there is also joy, and love.
And music, both heard and unheard.