Heroes of the Squared Circle 7: Physical Violence and Bizarre Innuendo
Title: Physical Violence and Bizarre Innuendo
Relationship: Clark/Bruce
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Guy Gardner, Fire, Mr. Miracle, Maxwell Lord, Harvey Dent
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion ( click for notes and all chapters).
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 4800
Summary: The nefarious Lex Luthor once again strikes a blow against the JLI, and Clark Kent has ethical issues with his feud with Bruce.
I don't think everybody knew exactly what he was saying, and probably that was a good thing. And sometimes, I don't even think he knew what he was saying... and ..and that was an even better thing. --Jerry Lawler, about the Ultimate Warrior
"We've decided what we're going to do about the championship spot," said Maxwell Lord to the roomful of wrestlers. "Tell 'em, Keith."
Keith, a diffident, bearded man who always looked a little uncomfortable actually talking to the wrestlers that he booked, cleared his throat. "We've decided it makes sense to have a--"
"--a tournament, that's right," said Max. "Three weeks, three rounds, winner gets the spot vacated by Captain Backstabber."
Ted Kord put down the plastic gallon bottle he'd been drinking water out of. "So who's gonna get the belt, Max? Don't keep us in suspense!"
Max nodded at Keith. "Tell 'em, Keith."
"Well," said Keith, "We think it's time to--"
"--to put the belt on Guy Gardner," finished Max. "And have him make a face turn while he's at it."
"Ah man, I like being a heel," grumbled Gardner, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him. Then he grinned. "But I'll like being the title holder more, I gotta admit."
"Two babyface champions in a row?" Bruce looked dubious.
"Green Lantern can be a totally different kind of babyface champion than Captain Marvel," said Max. "Less Big Red Cheese and more--"
"--Big Green Guy!" finished Guy.
Bruce waited a beat before saying deadpan, "I'd work on that nickname a bit more, Gardner," and Ted choked on a mouthful of water.
Max Lord shot Bruce a quelling look, then leaned forward. "Now, as for the exact details of the turn--Wayne and Kent's angle has really taken off in the last few shows, the crowds are eating it up. So--" he turned and quickly sketched out the brackets of the tournament on the whiteboard at the front of the room, showing the different matches leading up to a final showdown between Billionaire Brucie and Green Lantern. "Lantern will do his face turn in the semi-final match against Mr. Miracle. I want the four of you--" he pointed at Guy, Scott, Clark and Bruce, "--to work out a match that involves a face turn and a victory for Green Lantern and ties back into the Bruce/Clark angle too."
"Aw man," grumbled Booster loudly to Ted, "We both lose in the first round, that sucks."
"Lovable losers," Ted grinned.
"I'd rather be a hated winner," Booster noted.
"Then feel free to go work for Luthor," Lord snapped. "Okay, all of you, get out of here and go back to work."
"Lord's on edge lately," Clark said as he, Bruce, Guy and Scott headed toward the locker room.
"Losing Captain Marvel's got him rattled," Scott Free said. "He can't compete with the DCW forever at this rate."
Guy made an annoyed sound. "Luthor's a shark. Stealing talent from all the little local promotions. He'll be the only fish left in the pond if he keeps this up."
"I'm just saying I hope you guys all have an escape strategy," said Scott.
"I ain't going to work for Luthor," snarled Guy.
"It may be a choice between working in a promotion so tiny and unknown it escapes his notice, or working for him, someday," said Bruce thoughtfully. "Luthor might become the only game in town if you want any kind of spotlight."
Guy spat a curse. "Let's focus on our matches, okay? This kinda talk just bums me out."
"As it so happens," said Bruce, "I have some ideas about how to work it." He glanced over at Clark.
"Hm," said Clark. "Yeah, that would go over well. But I think you should do it instead of Selina. More ironic."
Bruce smacked a fist into the palm of his hand. "Right, of course. The hubris! Everyone loves some hubris payback."
"And then after, I could--"
"--Yeah, that would fit in really well with the theme from our last match, you're right."
Guy and Scott were looking at them oddly. "I haven't understood a word you two are yammering about," Guy said. "You gonna enlighten those of us without telepathy?"
Bruce looked faintly surprised. "It's obvious, isn't it?"
"No," said Guy and Scott in unison.
Bruce heaved an aggrieved sigh. "Explain it to them, Kent," he said. "I don't have the patience."
Guy pushed open the locker room doors and looked back at Bruce and Clark with some exasperation and a great deal of affection. "You two are a bad influence on each other," he said.
: : :
The match came off just as they'd planned. First Green Lantern and Billionaire Brucie cut a promo that was "captured on secret camera" backstage and put on the monitors in the auditorium: "I'll make you a deal, Lantern," said Brucie, carefully looking both ways before leaning forward to stage-whisper. "If you get into the final and lose to me, I'll give you all of the prize money."
Green Lantern's eyes lit up with avarice. "All of it?"
Brucie shrugged. "What do I need with some extra pocket change? All I want is that nice...shiny...championship belt."
"Well now," said Green Lantern. "I can't exactly lose to you in the final if I don't beat Mr. Miracle in the semi-final tonight, can I?"
Brucie looked thoughtful. "Perhaps I can give you a little help there as well."
Green Lantern chuckled. Then he chortled. Then he threw back his head in a manic laugh as the camera cut to commercial.
"All right," Bruce said as Guy and Mr. Miracle got ready to head out to the ring. "Ready for your bravado face turn, Gardner?"
"Am I ready to join the goody-two-shoes team with Kent? I guess," Guy said with a lopsided grin as he and Mr. Miracle headed to the Gorilla Position.
Bruce turned to Clark and held out his fist; Clark bumped his against it. "Showtime," murmured Bruce.
The semi-final match between Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle was well underway when Brucie strode down the ramp with his trusty steel chair in hand to a rising chorus of boos. Brucie prowled around the edge of the ring, clearly looking for an opening to deliver a crippling blow to Mr. Miracle.
When Clark came running down the ramp after Brucie, the crowd erupted in cheers. A double drama unfolded: Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle battling in the ring, Country Clark and Billionaire Brucie in a cat-and-mouse game outside. Each time Clark got close, Brucie would manage to whack him with the chair and drive him backwards. They got in one nice spot where Brucie knocked him into the announcers' table and sent equipment flying everywhere, but mostly they kept it low-key: this was Guy Gardner's moment to shine, after all.
At the twenty-minute mark, Brucie finally got far enough away from Clark to clamber into the ring with his chair. Mr. Miracle had Green Lantern trapped in the corner against the turnbuckle, his back to the center of the ring. Brucie stood in the middle and wound up with the chair.
"Mr. Miracle! Duck!" yelled Clark with all his strength.
Scott Free ducked and Brucie's chair connected solidly with Green Lantern's head.
The crowd gasped as Green Lantern staggered and Brucie dropped the chair, looking annoyed. His annoyance changed to alarm, however, as Green Lantern straightened up, throwing back his shoulders and frowning angrily at Brucie. He shook his head as if he were clearing cobwebs from it, then pointed an accusing finger at Brucie.
"That man attempted to bribe me!"
The crowd shrieked with joy as Brucie threw up his hands in denial, backing out of the ring, his eyes wild. Clark caught him as he exited the ring and got a good shoulder block in before Brucie managed to scramble out of the arena, then chased after him.
He skidded to a stop as soon as he was out of sight, joining Bruce in front of the television monitor that showed Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle eyeing each other warily. Guy was selling the face turn well, Clark noted--it was hard to pin down exactly, but his nonverbals had changed from brash to brave. "I wouldn't have wanted to win that way," he said to Mr. Miracle, and stuck out his hand.
Handshakes between faces and heels were always fraught, and Mr. Miracle paused dramatically. Was Green Lantern faking sincerity in order to attack him? The crowd seemed evenly split--they wanted to believe Green Lantern had truly rejected the nefarious billionaire, but they worried Mr. Miracle would end up betrayed.
When Mr. Miracle finally extended his own hand and Green Lantern shook it firmly, then released it without incident, the crowd screamed its approval.
The remainder of the match went great--Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle gave them a hell of a show, and Green Lantern won cleanly and fairly. Guy and Scott came backstage beaming, and everyone clapped the new babyface on the back.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Max Lord announced, "Behold the new championship belt of the JLI!" He held the garish gold-plated belt up over his head and everyone cheered. "It'll be Green Lantern's next week, after he beats Billionaire Brucie in the finals," Max said. "Let's hear it for our new champion-to-be!"
But Max Lord had spoken too soon: Green Lantern would never become the JLI champion.
: : :
When Clark arrived at the auditorium to prepare for his (small but promising) role in the final showdown between Green Lantern and Billionaire Brucie, he found the usual bustle and pandemonium replaced by an ominous pall. "You haven't heard," grimaced Booster Gold when he saw Clark's face.
"What is it?"
"Luthor strikes again," groaned Booster. "He sent Max a cease-and-desist letter on the Green Lantern name. Says his boy Hal Jordan has exclusive rights to it."
"That's ridiculous," said Clark. "Alan Scott's the original name-holder, not this Jordan twerp."
"His case couldn't hold up in court," Bruce said, materializing from somewhere next to Booster's elbow. Booster jumped; Clark had long since gotten used to it.
"You're probably right," said Max Lord from the door of his office. "But a court case takes money--money we don't have." He shook his head, scrubbing at his face with a hand. "We just have to abandon that gimmick. It's not worth the fight."
"We can work a name change into an angle," said Clark.
Max nodded. "Yeah. Sure. We'll come up with something." But his voice was toneless and he looked gray and weary, and in that moment Clark knew that Luthor's DCW was going to drive the JLI under eventually.
He met Bruce's eyes and saw the same knowledge there.
: : :
Bang!
Guy Gardner slammed his hand into the locker again, oblivious to the torn knuckles leaving a smear of blood on the metal. "Just when I'm finally getting some momentum, Luthor goes and louses it all up again!"
"We can use this," Bruce said.
"That's always your thing, ain't it--'We can use this, we can use this,'" Guy snarled. "I'm pissed! Luthor is screwing up my career!"
"That's what we're going to use," said Bruce. "Hey! Dent!" he called to another wrestler. "Come over here."
Harvey Dent loped over, his handsome face grim. "Sorry about the news, Guy," he said.
"How long has it been since you've used that lawyer gimmick?" Bruce said. "You know, the clean-cut weasel you played."
"I've been running as just a vanity heel for the last few months," said Harvey. "The crowd wasn't exactly eating up the lawyer shtick."
"Would you like to resurrect it?"
Harvey grinned. "Would I? You know, I actually went to law school for a while. I can spew that legalese like no one's business."
Bruce cracked his knuckles. "Fantastic. Let's get to work."
: : :
"In this corner, hailing from Gotham City...Billionaire Brucie!"
Bruce threw his arms wide and soaked up the hatred of the crowd like champagne.
"And in this corner, hailing from Baltimore, Maryland--"
"--Stop right there!" Harvey Dent's voice rang out through the auditorium, and the cheers of the crowd shifted to a confused buzz.
Harvey strode down to the ring in a sharp three-piece suit, carrying a briefcase and waving a piece of paper.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to say that name on television," he explained to the bemused ring announcer. "The term 'Green Lantern' is not your property."
"Not my--but it's my name!" cried Green Lantern.
"Not legally," explained Dent, opening up the piece of paper and perching a pair of reading glasses on his nose. "You see, this law firm represents the Green Lantern Corps, and your use of 'Green Lantern' is a violation of the Green Lantern Corps’ common law trademark rights, common law service mark rights, and trade name rights, and this letter constitutes the Green Lantern Corps’ demand that you cease and desist any and all use of these domain names. You should immediately forward this letter to your attorney."
"But I don't have a freaking attorney," Guy stammered.
Billionaire Brucie smiled. "How unfortunate for you."
Dent looked over the tops of his glasses at the shocked Green Lantern. "You don't have the right to this," he said, and reached out and ripped the Green Lantern symbol off Guy's jacket. Smiling, he threw it on the floor, and Brucie stepped forward and put his foot on it.
At the sight of his symbol being ground under Brucie's heel, something seemed to snap inside Guy Gardner. As the crowd screamed their support, he raged around the ring, his eyes wild. Finally, tearing at his own hair, he lunged from the ring and ran up the ramp and out of the arena.
Brucie turned to Dent. "So, Harv," he said conversationally, "How're things? How's the wife? The twins still doing well?"
Harvey Dent grinned at him as the audience went berserk at this blatant sign of collusion. "Everything's fine at home, Bruce. You still coming over for drinks this weekend?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Brucie bent down and picked up the Green Lantern symbol, then patted the sweat from his brow with it and sent it sailing out into the audience with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. He smiled out at them--You can't do anything about this--and said, "Well, if I don't have an opponent, it looks like that sparkly championship belt is all mine, isn't it?"
That was Clark's cue, and he stormed down the ramp to the ring. "Hey, Mr. Wayne," he yelled, "If you wanna fight someone, you can wrestle me!"
Dent backed into the corner, holding his briefcase in front him like a shield, and Brucie smiled as Clark jumped into the ring. "How sweet of you, Kent," he said. "You know humiliating you is always the high point of my day. But I'm afraid much as I would love to get my hands on you once more, I just can't wrestle you." He strolled around the ring, ignoring the baffled Clark. "You see, whoever wins this match will become the JLI champion. That makes it more than one of my everyday trouncings of you, as pleasurable as those are." He snapped his fingers at Dent. "What does the contract for this match say, Harvey?"
Harvey opened the briefcase and pulled out another piece of paper. "That Bruce Wayne will wrestle Green Lantern for the championship."
Brucie walked up to Clark until he was practically nose to nose with him. "Are you Green Lantern, hm?"
Clark reached into his overalls and pulled out a sheet of paper. "I've got another contract right here and you can sign it now and--"
Brucie shoved him and Clark staggered backwards into Harvey, knocking the briefcase out of his hand. Papers flew everywhere. "Oh gee, Mr. Dent, I'm sorry," said Clark, getting on his hands and knees to help gather up the papers. He sensed Bruce behind him and braced himself: they were improvising most of this, but there was no way Bruce wouldn't capitalize on having him on his hands and knees.
There was a long pause and hoots broke out across the arena; Clark felt his face reddening as he realized that Bruce was apparently just watching him appreciatively. Then he heard the telltale stomp, and Bruce kicked his backside, sending him sprawling to the boos of the crowd. Clark rolled over and sprang to his feet, brandishing his fists at Brucie, then turned away with an effort and grabbed the remaining papers to stuff them into Dent's briefcase and shove it back at him. Still glowering at Brucie, he made his way up the ramp, but stopped to point at the cringing Dent.
"Harvey Dent," he called, "You're a lying, cheating, two-faced snake in the grass, and you're gonna get what's coming to you!"
Backstage, Guy was hastily throwing on some red and black tights. "Anyone got some ribbons, colored shoelaces, anything?" he yelled. Tora handed him a handful of neon-pink and -yellow shoelaces. "Awesome," he said, and started tying them around his upper arms. Bea leaned over him, busily applying yellow and blue paint to his face in a mask pattern. "Put some of that on my manly chest while you're at it," Guy said.
Bea snorted. "You just couldn't skip the 'manly,' could you?" But she painted a few circles and lightning bolts on his chest as well.
"Make me look crazy," said Guy. "Like, good-crazy, not bad-crazy."
"Crazy, got it," muttered Bea. "Not difficult."
On the monitor, everyone could see Bruce killing time with Harvey in the ring. Bruce picked up Harvey's wrist and checked his watch: "Oh dear, it looks like Green Lan--ooops, the wrestler formerly known as Green Lantern--is going to have to forfeit, doesn't it?"
"It does indeed," smirked Dent. "That leaves you the undisputed champion, doesn't it?"
Brucie feigned astonished surprise, putting a hand to his chest. "Moi? My goodness, I suppose it does!" He waved to the referee. "Be a dear and ring the bell, then count to ten and raise my hand?"
The referee shrugged and gestured for the bell to ring, marking the start of the match. Then he started to count to ten as Brucie rubbed his hands together in anticipatory glee. The crowd noise got louder and louder with each count, and when an explosion of fireworks went off at "seven" they jumped from their seats, yelling.
Into the ring ran--well, it was Guy Gardner, but now he was bare-chested, his face and chest covered with neon paint, fluorescent laces tied tight around his upper biceps. "You're gonna fight me, Wayne!" he screamed as he jumped into the ring and grabbed the mic away from him. "I'm not gonna let you rip this chance from my bones, not gonna let you run over me with lawnmowers and tell me it's raining! Not with elephants, not with tanks!"
Brucie blinked at him.
"Wayyyne!" howled Guy, dragging the name out. "You can dig your claws into my tendons and your fangs into my brain, but you can't ever steal the championship from my golden soul!"
Brucie blinked again. Then he sidled over to put Harvey between him and Guy.
"Harvey," he said carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on the panting spectacle in front of him as if on a dangerous dog that might lunge, "I believe my contract is to wrestle the Green Lantern, is it not? Whatever...this...is, it is not a Green Lantern."
"You'll wrestle me, Wayyyne!" shrieked Guy. Bruce took a startled step back. Guy flung a hand out at Dent, who ducked behind the briefcase again. "If you check that piece of paper, check the writing written with the acid that burns my mind beyond the edges of the universe, you will see that the foe of your nightmares, the foe of your fevered intestines, will be Guy Gardner!" His voice was hitting a nearly hysterical pitch now, and the audience was starting to get into it, roaring its approval into each panting pause.
Brucie held up a placating hand, smiling. "Yes, Harvey, do check that."
Harvey reached into the briefcase with a trembling hand and pulled out the contract. "Yes, it says here that--" His eyes bugged out and he stared, the paper shaking uncontrollably. "--it says you're wrestling...Guy Gardner!"
Brucie grabbed the contract away to the sound of deafening shrieks, glaring at it. "Harvey, you told me this was a sure thing!" he yelled, shoving Dent.
"It's Country Clark, he switched the contracts, I know it!"
"Are you crazy? Kent's not smart enough to do that!" Bruce pushed him out of the ring. "Get out of my sight, you pathetic excuse for a lawyer!"
The bell rang and he straightened up--directly into a vicious chop from Guy Gardner. The match was on.
It was a good match, too, although Brucie spent most of it running away from the maniacal Gardner, whose face paint was running with sweat and turning into a grotesque mask of rainbow colors. In the middle of it Harvey Dent tried to escape up the ramp, only to be met by a smiling Country Clark. As the crowd cheered, Clark grinned at him, then punched him hard enough to send him reeling into a table.
Finally, Guy hit his finishing move and Bruce ended up sprawled on his back, arms and legs spread out. The bell rang to close the match and a beaming Guy was handed the championship belt. He brandished it above his head and yelled out at the crowd: "The time of the shadows has come to an end, and from now I'm gonna be what I was always meant to be! Not a Green Lantern, but something bigger! Something stronger! A champion for all the world! From now on, you can just call me...The Warrior!"
The crowd loved it, cheering him lustily as his new theme music--all screaming guitars and reverb--kicked in and he paraded triumphantly up the ramp, still shaking the belt above his head.
Backstage, he collapsed into a chair, guzzling a glass of water and exhaling. "Wow, that takes it out of you," he said. "But man, what a rush!"
People were clapping him on the back, shaking his hand. Clark and Bruce were leaning against a wall, watching, when Harvey Dent came over. "You know, I think I'm going to use that," he said to Clark.
"Use what?"
"When you called me two-faced. I think I can turn that into a gimmick."
Bruce nodded slowly. "Dye half your hair blond."
Dent pointed at him in agreement. "Wear trunks that are half-white and half-black, and really play up the split-personality thing."
"Cool," said Clark.
"Thanks for the idea," said Dent, punching him lightly on the arm.
: : :
Clark left the elevator and started down the corridor, whistling softly to himself and groping in his pocket for his hotel room key.
The door to the emergency stairs opened. "At least that's over with," Bruce said, falling into step beside him.
Clark didn't even blink, hoisting the two little cartons of Chinese takeout in the air between them. "Got you kung pao this time."
"Extra spicy?"
"Duh."
Clark opened the door quickly and they ducked into his hotel room.
"What did you mean, at least that's over with?" Clark said as he dug into his sesame chicken.
"The tournament. It was distracting from the important stuff."
"By which you mean us?"
A quick flash of smile. "By which I mean us." Bruce took a bite of rice and waved the chopsticks at Clark. "I think in our next match I should decide that instead of a stableboy I want you for my personal valet. There's a lot of chances for--"
Clark leaned forward, grimacing. "I wanted to talk to you about that." He looked down at his hands. "About the--you know, the gay stuff."
Bruce's expression didn't change at all, but something shuttered in his eyes. "Oh?" The monosyllable was flat.
"I just think--don't you think we should tone it down a bit?"
Bruce swiveled in his chair and looked out at the lights of the city for a moment. "It makes you uncomfortable," he said, not looking at Clark. "I understand." He cleared his throat. "Well, then--"
"No," said Clark. "I'm--I'm not sure you do understand. It's that--" He took a deep breath. "Well, it's that there are kids in the audience, kids who might--might be hurt by it." Bruce said nothing. "Look," Clark said, "When I was a teen, and they did these gay gimmicks, and the heel was called a freak or a pervert, and the face was all disgusted by him--it hurt me." He swallowed and finished up in a rush, "It kind of hurt me personally, Bruce, and I hate to think of there being kids in the crowd who think that Country Clark is a homophobe or that there's something wrong with them."
He stopped, breathing heavily, looking away from Bruce. Waiting.
"Ah," said Bruce, and then there was silence for a while. "Um."
Clark had never heard Bruce Wayne at a loss for words.
"Clark," he finally said. "I don't want you to think I haven't thought about these things. I have. I mean...I really have." Clark heard him swallow. "But let me ask you this--was it the character being gay that hurt you, or the face's reaction to it?"
"It's not that simple to just separate them," Clark protested. "But--but yes, it hurt most when the babyface I was supposed to be admiring was...disgusted."
"But Country Clark isn't disgusted by Billionaire Brucie," said Bruce, his voice low. "Is he?"
"No," said Clark. "No, he's--he's not."
"He's not a homophobe, he's just oblivious," said Bruce, and was there a thread of a relief in his voice? "So he's not coming across as a bad person, just a person who doesn't notice the sexual overtones."
"But the audience is being encouraged to see that as part of your--I mean, Brucie's--overall awfulness," Clark said.
"Well, we can work on that," said Bruce. The flatness was gone from his voice and he sounded cheerful again. "Isn't it part of Country Clark's character to think the best of people? So maybe he takes Billionaire Brucie's interest as a sign that he's lonely and needs a friend."
"It's going to be hard to maintain that when Brucie keeps hitting him with chairs," Clark pointed out, but he couldn't help a smile tugging at his lips at the image.
"Well, not everyone is really good at expressing a desire for friendship, right?" Bruce took a bite of kung pao and quirked an eyebrow at Clark. "Maybe when he hits Clark with a chair it's just his way of saying 'I love you.'"
"Like, 'Be my friend! Wham wham wham'?" Clark mimed waling on someone with a chair, and Bruce gave a startled snort of laughter in the middle of a sip of soda, clapping a hand to his mouth. The expression on his face made Clark start to laugh too, and soon they were caught in helpless gales of laughter; each time one of them managed to calm down the other one would make a motion and wheeze "Wham wham wham!" and they'd be off again.
"Stop, stop," Clark finally gasped. "Okay, we'll try that. Billionaire Brucie apparently has one redeeming trait, and it's his warped desire for friendship that he only knows how to express through physical violence and bizarre innuendo."
"Indeed," Bruce said with satisfaction, polishing off his food. "Better get back to my room in case Max decides to check up on me." He reached out and punched Clark on the arm, not lightly.
"Hey, ow, you jerk." Clark grabbed his arm and tried to twist it, but Bruce danced away, whacking him with his free hand.
"Gotta be faster, Kent," he gloated, and was gone out the door before Clark could respond.
: : :
"What the hell is up with Kent and Wayne?" Booster said to Ted the next day while getting a few drinks after the show.
Ted wiped his mouth. "Huh?"
"They were having an argument before the show about some move they were going to do, and in the middle of it suddenly Wayne goes--" Booster raised his hands up as if miming holding a chair, "--'Wham wham wham!' and he and Kent, I swear they break out in giggles. Wham wham wham? What the hell's that?"
"They're weird," Ted said with conviction. "Hey, bet I can beat you in pinball."
"You're on."
---
Chapter 8: Gimmick Match
Relationship: Clark/Bruce
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Guy Gardner, Fire, Mr. Miracle, Maxwell Lord, Harvey Dent
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion ( click for notes and all chapters).
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 4800
Summary: The nefarious Lex Luthor once again strikes a blow against the JLI, and Clark Kent has ethical issues with his feud with Bruce.
I don't think everybody knew exactly what he was saying, and probably that was a good thing. And sometimes, I don't even think he knew what he was saying... and ..and that was an even better thing. --Jerry Lawler, about the Ultimate Warrior
"We've decided what we're going to do about the championship spot," said Maxwell Lord to the roomful of wrestlers. "Tell 'em, Keith."
Keith, a diffident, bearded man who always looked a little uncomfortable actually talking to the wrestlers that he booked, cleared his throat. "We've decided it makes sense to have a--"
"--a tournament, that's right," said Max. "Three weeks, three rounds, winner gets the spot vacated by Captain Backstabber."
Ted Kord put down the plastic gallon bottle he'd been drinking water out of. "So who's gonna get the belt, Max? Don't keep us in suspense!"
Max nodded at Keith. "Tell 'em, Keith."
"Well," said Keith, "We think it's time to--"
"--to put the belt on Guy Gardner," finished Max. "And have him make a face turn while he's at it."
"Ah man, I like being a heel," grumbled Gardner, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him. Then he grinned. "But I'll like being the title holder more, I gotta admit."
"Two babyface champions in a row?" Bruce looked dubious.
"Green Lantern can be a totally different kind of babyface champion than Captain Marvel," said Max. "Less Big Red Cheese and more--"
"--Big Green Guy!" finished Guy.
Bruce waited a beat before saying deadpan, "I'd work on that nickname a bit more, Gardner," and Ted choked on a mouthful of water.
Max Lord shot Bruce a quelling look, then leaned forward. "Now, as for the exact details of the turn--Wayne and Kent's angle has really taken off in the last few shows, the crowds are eating it up. So--" he turned and quickly sketched out the brackets of the tournament on the whiteboard at the front of the room, showing the different matches leading up to a final showdown between Billionaire Brucie and Green Lantern. "Lantern will do his face turn in the semi-final match against Mr. Miracle. I want the four of you--" he pointed at Guy, Scott, Clark and Bruce, "--to work out a match that involves a face turn and a victory for Green Lantern and ties back into the Bruce/Clark angle too."
"Aw man," grumbled Booster loudly to Ted, "We both lose in the first round, that sucks."
"Lovable losers," Ted grinned.
"I'd rather be a hated winner," Booster noted.
"Then feel free to go work for Luthor," Lord snapped. "Okay, all of you, get out of here and go back to work."
"Lord's on edge lately," Clark said as he, Bruce, Guy and Scott headed toward the locker room.
"Losing Captain Marvel's got him rattled," Scott Free said. "He can't compete with the DCW forever at this rate."
Guy made an annoyed sound. "Luthor's a shark. Stealing talent from all the little local promotions. He'll be the only fish left in the pond if he keeps this up."
"I'm just saying I hope you guys all have an escape strategy," said Scott.
"I ain't going to work for Luthor," snarled Guy.
"It may be a choice between working in a promotion so tiny and unknown it escapes his notice, or working for him, someday," said Bruce thoughtfully. "Luthor might become the only game in town if you want any kind of spotlight."
Guy spat a curse. "Let's focus on our matches, okay? This kinda talk just bums me out."
"As it so happens," said Bruce, "I have some ideas about how to work it." He glanced over at Clark.
"Hm," said Clark. "Yeah, that would go over well. But I think you should do it instead of Selina. More ironic."
Bruce smacked a fist into the palm of his hand. "Right, of course. The hubris! Everyone loves some hubris payback."
"And then after, I could--"
"--Yeah, that would fit in really well with the theme from our last match, you're right."
Guy and Scott were looking at them oddly. "I haven't understood a word you two are yammering about," Guy said. "You gonna enlighten those of us without telepathy?"
Bruce looked faintly surprised. "It's obvious, isn't it?"
"No," said Guy and Scott in unison.
Bruce heaved an aggrieved sigh. "Explain it to them, Kent," he said. "I don't have the patience."
Guy pushed open the locker room doors and looked back at Bruce and Clark with some exasperation and a great deal of affection. "You two are a bad influence on each other," he said.
: : :
The match came off just as they'd planned. First Green Lantern and Billionaire Brucie cut a promo that was "captured on secret camera" backstage and put on the monitors in the auditorium: "I'll make you a deal, Lantern," said Brucie, carefully looking both ways before leaning forward to stage-whisper. "If you get into the final and lose to me, I'll give you all of the prize money."
Green Lantern's eyes lit up with avarice. "All of it?"
Brucie shrugged. "What do I need with some extra pocket change? All I want is that nice...shiny...championship belt."
"Well now," said Green Lantern. "I can't exactly lose to you in the final if I don't beat Mr. Miracle in the semi-final tonight, can I?"
Brucie looked thoughtful. "Perhaps I can give you a little help there as well."
Green Lantern chuckled. Then he chortled. Then he threw back his head in a manic laugh as the camera cut to commercial.
"All right," Bruce said as Guy and Mr. Miracle got ready to head out to the ring. "Ready for your bravado face turn, Gardner?"
"Am I ready to join the goody-two-shoes team with Kent? I guess," Guy said with a lopsided grin as he and Mr. Miracle headed to the Gorilla Position.
Bruce turned to Clark and held out his fist; Clark bumped his against it. "Showtime," murmured Bruce.
The semi-final match between Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle was well underway when Brucie strode down the ramp with his trusty steel chair in hand to a rising chorus of boos. Brucie prowled around the edge of the ring, clearly looking for an opening to deliver a crippling blow to Mr. Miracle.
When Clark came running down the ramp after Brucie, the crowd erupted in cheers. A double drama unfolded: Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle battling in the ring, Country Clark and Billionaire Brucie in a cat-and-mouse game outside. Each time Clark got close, Brucie would manage to whack him with the chair and drive him backwards. They got in one nice spot where Brucie knocked him into the announcers' table and sent equipment flying everywhere, but mostly they kept it low-key: this was Guy Gardner's moment to shine, after all.
At the twenty-minute mark, Brucie finally got far enough away from Clark to clamber into the ring with his chair. Mr. Miracle had Green Lantern trapped in the corner against the turnbuckle, his back to the center of the ring. Brucie stood in the middle and wound up with the chair.
"Mr. Miracle! Duck!" yelled Clark with all his strength.
Scott Free ducked and Brucie's chair connected solidly with Green Lantern's head.
The crowd gasped as Green Lantern staggered and Brucie dropped the chair, looking annoyed. His annoyance changed to alarm, however, as Green Lantern straightened up, throwing back his shoulders and frowning angrily at Brucie. He shook his head as if he were clearing cobwebs from it, then pointed an accusing finger at Brucie.
"That man attempted to bribe me!"
The crowd shrieked with joy as Brucie threw up his hands in denial, backing out of the ring, his eyes wild. Clark caught him as he exited the ring and got a good shoulder block in before Brucie managed to scramble out of the arena, then chased after him.
He skidded to a stop as soon as he was out of sight, joining Bruce in front of the television monitor that showed Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle eyeing each other warily. Guy was selling the face turn well, Clark noted--it was hard to pin down exactly, but his nonverbals had changed from brash to brave. "I wouldn't have wanted to win that way," he said to Mr. Miracle, and stuck out his hand.
Handshakes between faces and heels were always fraught, and Mr. Miracle paused dramatically. Was Green Lantern faking sincerity in order to attack him? The crowd seemed evenly split--they wanted to believe Green Lantern had truly rejected the nefarious billionaire, but they worried Mr. Miracle would end up betrayed.
When Mr. Miracle finally extended his own hand and Green Lantern shook it firmly, then released it without incident, the crowd screamed its approval.
The remainder of the match went great--Green Lantern and Mr. Miracle gave them a hell of a show, and Green Lantern won cleanly and fairly. Guy and Scott came backstage beaming, and everyone clapped the new babyface on the back.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Max Lord announced, "Behold the new championship belt of the JLI!" He held the garish gold-plated belt up over his head and everyone cheered. "It'll be Green Lantern's next week, after he beats Billionaire Brucie in the finals," Max said. "Let's hear it for our new champion-to-be!"
But Max Lord had spoken too soon: Green Lantern would never become the JLI champion.
: : :
When Clark arrived at the auditorium to prepare for his (small but promising) role in the final showdown between Green Lantern and Billionaire Brucie, he found the usual bustle and pandemonium replaced by an ominous pall. "You haven't heard," grimaced Booster Gold when he saw Clark's face.
"What is it?"
"Luthor strikes again," groaned Booster. "He sent Max a cease-and-desist letter on the Green Lantern name. Says his boy Hal Jordan has exclusive rights to it."
"That's ridiculous," said Clark. "Alan Scott's the original name-holder, not this Jordan twerp."
"His case couldn't hold up in court," Bruce said, materializing from somewhere next to Booster's elbow. Booster jumped; Clark had long since gotten used to it.
"You're probably right," said Max Lord from the door of his office. "But a court case takes money--money we don't have." He shook his head, scrubbing at his face with a hand. "We just have to abandon that gimmick. It's not worth the fight."
"We can work a name change into an angle," said Clark.
Max nodded. "Yeah. Sure. We'll come up with something." But his voice was toneless and he looked gray and weary, and in that moment Clark knew that Luthor's DCW was going to drive the JLI under eventually.
He met Bruce's eyes and saw the same knowledge there.
: : :
Bang!
Guy Gardner slammed his hand into the locker again, oblivious to the torn knuckles leaving a smear of blood on the metal. "Just when I'm finally getting some momentum, Luthor goes and louses it all up again!"
"We can use this," Bruce said.
"That's always your thing, ain't it--'We can use this, we can use this,'" Guy snarled. "I'm pissed! Luthor is screwing up my career!"
"That's what we're going to use," said Bruce. "Hey! Dent!" he called to another wrestler. "Come over here."
Harvey Dent loped over, his handsome face grim. "Sorry about the news, Guy," he said.
"How long has it been since you've used that lawyer gimmick?" Bruce said. "You know, the clean-cut weasel you played."
"I've been running as just a vanity heel for the last few months," said Harvey. "The crowd wasn't exactly eating up the lawyer shtick."
"Would you like to resurrect it?"
Harvey grinned. "Would I? You know, I actually went to law school for a while. I can spew that legalese like no one's business."
Bruce cracked his knuckles. "Fantastic. Let's get to work."
: : :
"In this corner, hailing from Gotham City...Billionaire Brucie!"
Bruce threw his arms wide and soaked up the hatred of the crowd like champagne.
"And in this corner, hailing from Baltimore, Maryland--"
"--Stop right there!" Harvey Dent's voice rang out through the auditorium, and the cheers of the crowd shifted to a confused buzz.
Harvey strode down to the ring in a sharp three-piece suit, carrying a briefcase and waving a piece of paper.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to say that name on television," he explained to the bemused ring announcer. "The term 'Green Lantern' is not your property."
"Not my--but it's my name!" cried Green Lantern.
"Not legally," explained Dent, opening up the piece of paper and perching a pair of reading glasses on his nose. "You see, this law firm represents the Green Lantern Corps, and your use of 'Green Lantern' is a violation of the Green Lantern Corps’ common law trademark rights, common law service mark rights, and trade name rights, and this letter constitutes the Green Lantern Corps’ demand that you cease and desist any and all use of these domain names. You should immediately forward this letter to your attorney."
"But I don't have a freaking attorney," Guy stammered.
Billionaire Brucie smiled. "How unfortunate for you."
Dent looked over the tops of his glasses at the shocked Green Lantern. "You don't have the right to this," he said, and reached out and ripped the Green Lantern symbol off Guy's jacket. Smiling, he threw it on the floor, and Brucie stepped forward and put his foot on it.
At the sight of his symbol being ground under Brucie's heel, something seemed to snap inside Guy Gardner. As the crowd screamed their support, he raged around the ring, his eyes wild. Finally, tearing at his own hair, he lunged from the ring and ran up the ramp and out of the arena.
Brucie turned to Dent. "So, Harv," he said conversationally, "How're things? How's the wife? The twins still doing well?"
Harvey Dent grinned at him as the audience went berserk at this blatant sign of collusion. "Everything's fine at home, Bruce. You still coming over for drinks this weekend?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Brucie bent down and picked up the Green Lantern symbol, then patted the sweat from his brow with it and sent it sailing out into the audience with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. He smiled out at them--You can't do anything about this--and said, "Well, if I don't have an opponent, it looks like that sparkly championship belt is all mine, isn't it?"
That was Clark's cue, and he stormed down the ramp to the ring. "Hey, Mr. Wayne," he yelled, "If you wanna fight someone, you can wrestle me!"
Dent backed into the corner, holding his briefcase in front him like a shield, and Brucie smiled as Clark jumped into the ring. "How sweet of you, Kent," he said. "You know humiliating you is always the high point of my day. But I'm afraid much as I would love to get my hands on you once more, I just can't wrestle you." He strolled around the ring, ignoring the baffled Clark. "You see, whoever wins this match will become the JLI champion. That makes it more than one of my everyday trouncings of you, as pleasurable as those are." He snapped his fingers at Dent. "What does the contract for this match say, Harvey?"
Harvey opened the briefcase and pulled out another piece of paper. "That Bruce Wayne will wrestle Green Lantern for the championship."
Brucie walked up to Clark until he was practically nose to nose with him. "Are you Green Lantern, hm?"
Clark reached into his overalls and pulled out a sheet of paper. "I've got another contract right here and you can sign it now and--"
Brucie shoved him and Clark staggered backwards into Harvey, knocking the briefcase out of his hand. Papers flew everywhere. "Oh gee, Mr. Dent, I'm sorry," said Clark, getting on his hands and knees to help gather up the papers. He sensed Bruce behind him and braced himself: they were improvising most of this, but there was no way Bruce wouldn't capitalize on having him on his hands and knees.
There was a long pause and hoots broke out across the arena; Clark felt his face reddening as he realized that Bruce was apparently just watching him appreciatively. Then he heard the telltale stomp, and Bruce kicked his backside, sending him sprawling to the boos of the crowd. Clark rolled over and sprang to his feet, brandishing his fists at Brucie, then turned away with an effort and grabbed the remaining papers to stuff them into Dent's briefcase and shove it back at him. Still glowering at Brucie, he made his way up the ramp, but stopped to point at the cringing Dent.
"Harvey Dent," he called, "You're a lying, cheating, two-faced snake in the grass, and you're gonna get what's coming to you!"
Backstage, Guy was hastily throwing on some red and black tights. "Anyone got some ribbons, colored shoelaces, anything?" he yelled. Tora handed him a handful of neon-pink and -yellow shoelaces. "Awesome," he said, and started tying them around his upper arms. Bea leaned over him, busily applying yellow and blue paint to his face in a mask pattern. "Put some of that on my manly chest while you're at it," Guy said.
Bea snorted. "You just couldn't skip the 'manly,' could you?" But she painted a few circles and lightning bolts on his chest as well.
"Make me look crazy," said Guy. "Like, good-crazy, not bad-crazy."
"Crazy, got it," muttered Bea. "Not difficult."
On the monitor, everyone could see Bruce killing time with Harvey in the ring. Bruce picked up Harvey's wrist and checked his watch: "Oh dear, it looks like Green Lan--ooops, the wrestler formerly known as Green Lantern--is going to have to forfeit, doesn't it?"
"It does indeed," smirked Dent. "That leaves you the undisputed champion, doesn't it?"
Brucie feigned astonished surprise, putting a hand to his chest. "Moi? My goodness, I suppose it does!" He waved to the referee. "Be a dear and ring the bell, then count to ten and raise my hand?"
The referee shrugged and gestured for the bell to ring, marking the start of the match. Then he started to count to ten as Brucie rubbed his hands together in anticipatory glee. The crowd noise got louder and louder with each count, and when an explosion of fireworks went off at "seven" they jumped from their seats, yelling.
Into the ring ran--well, it was Guy Gardner, but now he was bare-chested, his face and chest covered with neon paint, fluorescent laces tied tight around his upper biceps. "You're gonna fight me, Wayne!" he screamed as he jumped into the ring and grabbed the mic away from him. "I'm not gonna let you rip this chance from my bones, not gonna let you run over me with lawnmowers and tell me it's raining! Not with elephants, not with tanks!"
Brucie blinked at him.
"Wayyyne!" howled Guy, dragging the name out. "You can dig your claws into my tendons and your fangs into my brain, but you can't ever steal the championship from my golden soul!"
Brucie blinked again. Then he sidled over to put Harvey between him and Guy.
"Harvey," he said carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on the panting spectacle in front of him as if on a dangerous dog that might lunge, "I believe my contract is to wrestle the Green Lantern, is it not? Whatever...this...is, it is not a Green Lantern."
"You'll wrestle me, Wayyyne!" shrieked Guy. Bruce took a startled step back. Guy flung a hand out at Dent, who ducked behind the briefcase again. "If you check that piece of paper, check the writing written with the acid that burns my mind beyond the edges of the universe, you will see that the foe of your nightmares, the foe of your fevered intestines, will be Guy Gardner!" His voice was hitting a nearly hysterical pitch now, and the audience was starting to get into it, roaring its approval into each panting pause.
Brucie held up a placating hand, smiling. "Yes, Harvey, do check that."
Harvey reached into the briefcase with a trembling hand and pulled out the contract. "Yes, it says here that--" His eyes bugged out and he stared, the paper shaking uncontrollably. "--it says you're wrestling...Guy Gardner!"
Brucie grabbed the contract away to the sound of deafening shrieks, glaring at it. "Harvey, you told me this was a sure thing!" he yelled, shoving Dent.
"It's Country Clark, he switched the contracts, I know it!"
"Are you crazy? Kent's not smart enough to do that!" Bruce pushed him out of the ring. "Get out of my sight, you pathetic excuse for a lawyer!"
The bell rang and he straightened up--directly into a vicious chop from Guy Gardner. The match was on.
It was a good match, too, although Brucie spent most of it running away from the maniacal Gardner, whose face paint was running with sweat and turning into a grotesque mask of rainbow colors. In the middle of it Harvey Dent tried to escape up the ramp, only to be met by a smiling Country Clark. As the crowd cheered, Clark grinned at him, then punched him hard enough to send him reeling into a table.
Finally, Guy hit his finishing move and Bruce ended up sprawled on his back, arms and legs spread out. The bell rang to close the match and a beaming Guy was handed the championship belt. He brandished it above his head and yelled out at the crowd: "The time of the shadows has come to an end, and from now I'm gonna be what I was always meant to be! Not a Green Lantern, but something bigger! Something stronger! A champion for all the world! From now on, you can just call me...The Warrior!"
The crowd loved it, cheering him lustily as his new theme music--all screaming guitars and reverb--kicked in and he paraded triumphantly up the ramp, still shaking the belt above his head.
Backstage, he collapsed into a chair, guzzling a glass of water and exhaling. "Wow, that takes it out of you," he said. "But man, what a rush!"
People were clapping him on the back, shaking his hand. Clark and Bruce were leaning against a wall, watching, when Harvey Dent came over. "You know, I think I'm going to use that," he said to Clark.
"Use what?"
"When you called me two-faced. I think I can turn that into a gimmick."
Bruce nodded slowly. "Dye half your hair blond."
Dent pointed at him in agreement. "Wear trunks that are half-white and half-black, and really play up the split-personality thing."
"Cool," said Clark.
"Thanks for the idea," said Dent, punching him lightly on the arm.
: : :
Clark left the elevator and started down the corridor, whistling softly to himself and groping in his pocket for his hotel room key.
The door to the emergency stairs opened. "At least that's over with," Bruce said, falling into step beside him.
Clark didn't even blink, hoisting the two little cartons of Chinese takeout in the air between them. "Got you kung pao this time."
"Extra spicy?"
"Duh."
Clark opened the door quickly and they ducked into his hotel room.
"What did you mean, at least that's over with?" Clark said as he dug into his sesame chicken.
"The tournament. It was distracting from the important stuff."
"By which you mean us?"
A quick flash of smile. "By which I mean us." Bruce took a bite of rice and waved the chopsticks at Clark. "I think in our next match I should decide that instead of a stableboy I want you for my personal valet. There's a lot of chances for--"
Clark leaned forward, grimacing. "I wanted to talk to you about that." He looked down at his hands. "About the--you know, the gay stuff."
Bruce's expression didn't change at all, but something shuttered in his eyes. "Oh?" The monosyllable was flat.
"I just think--don't you think we should tone it down a bit?"
Bruce swiveled in his chair and looked out at the lights of the city for a moment. "It makes you uncomfortable," he said, not looking at Clark. "I understand." He cleared his throat. "Well, then--"
"No," said Clark. "I'm--I'm not sure you do understand. It's that--" He took a deep breath. "Well, it's that there are kids in the audience, kids who might--might be hurt by it." Bruce said nothing. "Look," Clark said, "When I was a teen, and they did these gay gimmicks, and the heel was called a freak or a pervert, and the face was all disgusted by him--it hurt me." He swallowed and finished up in a rush, "It kind of hurt me personally, Bruce, and I hate to think of there being kids in the crowd who think that Country Clark is a homophobe or that there's something wrong with them."
He stopped, breathing heavily, looking away from Bruce. Waiting.
"Ah," said Bruce, and then there was silence for a while. "Um."
Clark had never heard Bruce Wayne at a loss for words.
"Clark," he finally said. "I don't want you to think I haven't thought about these things. I have. I mean...I really have." Clark heard him swallow. "But let me ask you this--was it the character being gay that hurt you, or the face's reaction to it?"
"It's not that simple to just separate them," Clark protested. "But--but yes, it hurt most when the babyface I was supposed to be admiring was...disgusted."
"But Country Clark isn't disgusted by Billionaire Brucie," said Bruce, his voice low. "Is he?"
"No," said Clark. "No, he's--he's not."
"He's not a homophobe, he's just oblivious," said Bruce, and was there a thread of a relief in his voice? "So he's not coming across as a bad person, just a person who doesn't notice the sexual overtones."
"But the audience is being encouraged to see that as part of your--I mean, Brucie's--overall awfulness," Clark said.
"Well, we can work on that," said Bruce. The flatness was gone from his voice and he sounded cheerful again. "Isn't it part of Country Clark's character to think the best of people? So maybe he takes Billionaire Brucie's interest as a sign that he's lonely and needs a friend."
"It's going to be hard to maintain that when Brucie keeps hitting him with chairs," Clark pointed out, but he couldn't help a smile tugging at his lips at the image.
"Well, not everyone is really good at expressing a desire for friendship, right?" Bruce took a bite of kung pao and quirked an eyebrow at Clark. "Maybe when he hits Clark with a chair it's just his way of saying 'I love you.'"
"Like, 'Be my friend! Wham wham wham'?" Clark mimed waling on someone with a chair, and Bruce gave a startled snort of laughter in the middle of a sip of soda, clapping a hand to his mouth. The expression on his face made Clark start to laugh too, and soon they were caught in helpless gales of laughter; each time one of them managed to calm down the other one would make a motion and wheeze "Wham wham wham!" and they'd be off again.
"Stop, stop," Clark finally gasped. "Okay, we'll try that. Billionaire Brucie apparently has one redeeming trait, and it's his warped desire for friendship that he only knows how to express through physical violence and bizarre innuendo."
"Indeed," Bruce said with satisfaction, polishing off his food. "Better get back to my room in case Max decides to check up on me." He reached out and punched Clark on the arm, not lightly.
"Hey, ow, you jerk." Clark grabbed his arm and tried to twist it, but Bruce danced away, whacking him with his free hand.
"Gotta be faster, Kent," he gloated, and was gone out the door before Clark could respond.
: : :
"What the hell is up with Kent and Wayne?" Booster said to Ted the next day while getting a few drinks after the show.
Ted wiped his mouth. "Huh?"
"They were having an argument before the show about some move they were going to do, and in the middle of it suddenly Wayne goes--" Booster raised his hands up as if miming holding a chair, "--'Wham wham wham!' and he and Kent, I swear they break out in giggles. Wham wham wham? What the hell's that?"
"They're weird," Ted said with conviction. "Hey, bet I can beat you in pinball."
"You're on."
---
Chapter 8: Gimmick Match