Superman Batman (Private)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

It didn’t take too long to clean up the floor, he’d scrubbed each stain he’d spied and given the entire mat a good once over with both solutions just to be safe. Since Clark had mopped up a great deal of the mess with his ruined top it was a little more difficult to spy hidden remnants, but he was confident he had gotten them all. He’d have to remember to use an ultra violet light on it later, or have the alien check it with his enhanced vision. Come tomorrow he’d probably toss the entire thing out, likely when Clark was absent. It would be less suspicious then and Alfred would merely assume Bruce had simply been hurt. By far the lesser of two evils.

He was just returning the cleanser to the niche, towels balled in a clean one and set aside to be torched when the Kryptonian’s growl interrupted the silence. Rinsing his hands in a hidden niche, Bruce dried them quickly and turned to his companion. It was easy to spy the frustration on the man’s features, but whether it was caused by inability to perform the stances or not he couldn’t say just yet. Closing the panel he made his way quickly to his partner and looked him over.

“Relax. You need to be calm and at ease to be able to perform this. It’s a peaceful martial art.” Perhaps a bit of an oxymoron that, but it was true. It had been one of the more difficult ones for Bruce to learn in the beginning, having been so torn with anger and loss. Once he found purpose he had found the peace required to understand Wing Chun, then it was simply a matter of memorizing the forms. Realizing the man was too upset, Bruce circled his companion and moved to rub at a tense back and shoulders that had been loose and calm only minutes before. He had to wonder just what had made the man so on edge in such a short period of time. But remembering the circumstances of their last training session and what had happened around it, he thought he might have a good idea. Skilled fingers went to work, gliding over hard muscle searching out the spots he was learning helped the man relax the most. “Clear your mind Clark. Forget everything but the sensation of my hands and the rhythm of your body. Breathe, in and out. Nice and slow.” The billionaire coached, letting his own breathing slip into the calming sort of meditative pattern for the alien to repeat. He kept at it for several long minutes, refusing to stop until the man was sufficiently calm. “Let everything else go. For now nothing beyond this room matters.”

Once the muscles had loosened, Bruce released his companion’s back and instead grasped his arms, guiding them into the first pose which was in fact the heart of this particular martial form. Circling back around he made certain the alien found and maintained his center line, feet proper shoulder with apart, shoulder’s back; calm. He guided the man through a few simple movements, these the basis upon which the entire art was founded. When the alien seemed to have gotten the hang of them he began to move into a few more complex movements, slow, fluid and soft. Wing Chun was much more akin to dance, or ballet than something hard like judo or karate. But it was no less deadly when necessary. Those particular lessons however were good long while off, if applicable at all. Clark didn’t need to know how to stop a heartbeat with one strike. The alien merely needed to learn to move, to master more than just strength and speed and this was the perfect form to get the man started on that path.







(Yes those are biscuits here. Scones can come in that shape or a triangular shape most commonly. Ah that makes sense. I think I remember wondering where Clark got a cookie when they were eating biscuits once lol. Now I know ^^ )

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

Taking deep breaths, Clark allowed Bruce to help him get back into the right headspace. He was too tired to keep a hold of the grudge right now anyway. Somehow it seemed easier this time. Whether that was because his body remembered more than his head was, or if he was simply more relaxed this time Clark didn't know. How Bruce could still be so patient with him was another conundrum.

Clark had taken a few Yoga classes back when he was dating Janie and this reminded him of it. The slow movements encouraged core strength and stability as well as flexibly. Janie had liked it because it made her muscles burn, Clark hadn't liked it because it was too easy. This was not easy.

There was only so much he could learn in one go. When he'd had his fill the alien vowed to himself to actually practice this time. He ran through the basic set on his own, only making two mistakes and quickly fixing them. It felt unnatural still so he'd really have to work on making sure his body became accustomed to the poses and movement.

"Did we want to call it a night?" Unbelievably Clark had actually worked up a small sweat. "You can get in a nap if it's a short one." He added as an afterthought. If he was tired, Bruce had to be too. At least in theory. Bruce didn't work the same way as the rest of humanity.


(page 100, wow!)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

Predictably Clark was both a quick study and subconsciously resistant to the form. It was entirely outside his realm of normal movement and thinking, which, when you really thought about it was somewhat ironic. The man was literally immune to gravity, he could move as if the laws of physics did not at all apply to him. Mastering the fluid and soft shouldn’t be all that difficult. But the alien was also a being of strength and raw power, and hadn’t been raised in an atmosphere that allowed him the freedom to explore all that he could do. Instead he had been this powerful being confined into the unforgiving prison of pseudo-humanity. And while that had made him rather skilled at disappearing in the crowd and disguising his true identity it left him with no choice but to learn all he had missed now.

Bruce tried to model his methods of teaching after a few of his own more compassionate sensei and sifu’s, drawing on his rarely used patience. Keeping the Bat and his snark and commanding demands at bay wasn’t as hard in that moment. Perhaps because he himself was rather relaxed and noticeably calm. One might say he was in a good mood, but such terms were really applicable with the harsh vigilante. And come tomorrow he would likely be back to his blunt, harsh self. Still, for now, it wasn’t too difficult to keep such things under wraps, leading the alien through multiple lessons. His eyes followed every movement, correcting mistakes were made and leading the man into both the proper stance and frame of mind whenever he should stray. Wing Chun was as much a mental martial art as it was a physical. Not in the same sense as Torquasm-Vo certainly, but your state of mind severely affected your performance. Beyond that initial hiccup that didn’t seem to be too much of an issue for Clark however.

Before long it seemed the Kryptonian had reached his limit, and judging by the man’s internal clock they had in fact been at this for a while. Normally Bruce would have insisted they continue, pushing beyond what the alien wanted and into what needed to be done. But he didn’t think now was the right time to test the reporter. He was likely going to be under enough stress tonight and into tomorrow with returning to the Planet. Nodding, Bruce ended the session with a traditional bow then moved to retrieve a hand towel for Clark, noting the fine sheen of exertion upon his skin. The billionaire himself hadn’t been pushed enough to perspire. The water was also fetched and he handed each to the alien.

“I need to check on the tests, but I suppose a little break before patrol would probably be wise.” Bruce agreed, cracking open his own bottle and took a healthy drink. It was probably imperative to check in on his company as well. Despite knowing it would probably irritate him. “You need to practice in between these training sessions, or you’ll simply unlearn everything I’m trying to teach you simply from disuse. There’s a gym floor upstairs, equipped with a plethora of Chum Kiu training stations, Mook Yan Jong, iron palm and rice bags. You may use it whenever you wish. There are also supplies there for Judo and just about anything else you may need. Although if you wish to exert your strength I think this simulator would be a wiser choice.” A hand motioned to the room around them, certain it could withstand the Superman. Particularly the holographic simulation. It had higher capabilities than most anything else man made. Capping his water, Bruce moved to gather the dirty towels and discarded clothes, ensuring everything was in its proper place before heading to the door.

Alfred and Martha had likely started dinner by now, giving them only an hour at best before it would be necessary to entertain their elders. A stop at the incinerator destroyed the last evidence of their afternoon frolic, the remaining clothing clean for the most part. Checking in with the computer ensuring everything was still running smoothly. Only one test had thus far been completed and it was merely a rudimentary test, nothing too terribly important. The rest would have to wait until he returned in the morning.





(I know its crazy! But super awesome <3)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

"Hopefully no one else decides to mind control me and maybe I can manage it." Clark replied with just a hint of bitterness. He was still tired, but in a much more satisfying way than what was normal recently. They went upstairs together, greeted by the rich aromas of cooking vegetables; savoury rather than sweet as it so often was.

Clark gave dinner a miss to fly out to Kansas. He made sure everyone knew where he was going, though he figured they would know why without needing to be told that too. The flight over gave the alien more than enough time to work himself up into a state. Everything had been fine with Ma, but Pa had lived in Smallville his whole life, unlike Ma who had moved there as a teen.

Pa was surprised but happy to see him. They ate dinner together though Clark only picked at his food. It wasn't until Pa was fishing ice cream out of the freezer. Scrunching up his face and screwing his courage to the sticking place, the alien blurted out what he needed to. "Bruce and I are dating."

Pa didn't even bat an eyelash, plonking the tub on the bench. "Yeah figured as much."

He blinked rapidly, taken aback. "You what?"

"Gave him the what for before I left." Pa explained as he fetched some bowls.

"You what?" Clark felt like a broken record, but he hadn't expected Pa to be so blasé about the whole thing.

"Would'a thought you'd have caught on I knew already, what with the scene I made at dinner. Ah don't make that face at me. This isn't the first time you've liked a boy and if this don't work out then it might not be the last."

"I- I what? When did I-" He didn't remember ever crushing on another boy before.

"Back when you were twelve maybe? You remember Billy Hastings, right? Used to help out on the farm. You'd try and make every excuse in the book to spend time with the kid. Your Ma used to get so flustered trying to work out if she should encourage it or not what with you liking Lana as well."

Clark opened his mouth to speak a few times before giving up. He really had been worrying for nothing. A large bowl of Neapolitan ice cream was set down before him and then the reporter found himself engulfed in a tight hug. He let his head rest against that hard chest until Pa cleared his throat and mentioned how the ice cream was melting.

His parents had left his room alone for when he came to stay so Clark spent the few hours of rest he could steal in his childhood room. It was stupidly comforting being here, with the animals all he could really hear. Pa's farm was one of the biggest in the area so there weren't even really neighbours to eavesdrop on without really trying. Unfortunately he had to get going stupidly early to get home for work. Of course it was a rather eventful flight home, saving a woman from being run over by a car and a bus from being crushed by a falling tree among other things.

The reporter didn't have time to go back to Bruce's penthouse before work. Instead he went straight to his apartment and put on one of his ill fitting suits, a pair of glasses, and collected a notepad. His computer he'd taken with him, foreseeing such a predicament.

So it was, just before eight in the morning, Clark Kent walked into the bull pen of the daily planet to start his first day back at work.


(sorry to jump but I've been wanting to get this conversation out for a while now and I figured we needed a new day what with how long we've been on this one.)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

The group saw Clark off, the customary affections exchanged between mother and son and a few kind words from Pennyworth. Bruce watched mostly, his eyes saying all that his mouth did not. With nightfall fast approaching he couldn’t afford to tag along and offer whatever kind of support he might manage when the man faced his father. So he did not complain nor object. Especially since the alien was doing as requested and informing everyone of his destination beforehand. Should something arise they would be able to contact him and if nothing else the Bat had his own ways to track down the hero. He doubted such things would be necessary however.

Once the man disappeared off the balcony Martha and Alfred attempted to coerce Bruce into joining with their dinner preparations, not to mention conversation. Keen eyes noted his fresh clothing, but nothing was said. Alfred was more than used to Bruce arriving in various states of undress due to his training habits. The blooming bruise across his knuckles confirmed that he had in fact been practicing. Although some of that particular patch of discoloration had possibly come from Clark and not just the targets Bruce had pummeled earlier that evening. Not ten minutes into the quiet conversation, the telephone rang; work once again. Odd that it was the land line rather than one of their cell phones, but he realized he had left his own downstairs in his bedroom. Apparently Cayzer hadn’t taken too kindly to being terminated, stormed his way down to Wayne Tower and was now causing quite a scene out on the streets. Security had been informed not to allow the man onto the premises and he was threatening all manner of ugly things where any passerby could hear until Bruce arrived so he could put forth his complaints properly. Dealing with that man face to face wasn’t exactly how the billionaire intended to spend the rest of his evening, but it didn’t seem like he had too much choice. That was bad publicity, the kind that could negatively affect the company and not just himself. Although the possibility of just having the man arrested did cross his mind for a minute.

Begrudgingly, Bruce explained and excused himself, informing them both that he might not be back for quite some time and not to bother waiting up. Alfred understood the code. He changed into something a little more presentable then headed out. The trip from the golden city back to Gotham went by slower than he would have liked even if the motorcycle never once fell below triple digits. Cayzer was still standing on the Tower’s door step shouting up a storm when Bruce arrived. Police had been called but were thus far doing little more than trying to calm the man down and keeping the errant onlooker at bay. Bruce had no compassion left to go easy on the man, everything within him expended already upon his house guests. This man had wronged his father’s company, he didn’t deserve mercy. Of course he wasn’t violent nor did he raise his voice; that was beneath someone of his station. Especially with that camera he’d spied peeking between the police line. He played the wronged boss perfectly. But his words were sharp, tongue quick and just as deadly as any weapon. A few well worded quips and the former employee was both red-faced and more than a little shamed. He was still angry though, the billionaire could clearly see it in his eyes. A thinly veiled threat and the possibility of incarceration finally had the man backing off. Both Bruce and the police would likely be keeping an eye on the man for a while though to ensure nothing else came of this.

He spent a good half hour at the company headquarters, checking in with the board members present and assuring himself that the investigation into Cayzer’s recent doings was well underway. Thus far nothing else incriminating had been found. Afterwards Bruce headed to the manor, suited up and hit the streets. Batman was a force to be reckoned with that night, swift, precise, and more than a little brutal. Activity had predictably picked up in his absence, even if it had only been one night. Gotham’s criminals were insatiable and opportunistic. You give them event he tiniest chance and they’ll take it and run.

The night was long, busy; filled to the brim with all manner of fights and crimes to be stopped. Everything from the average mugging, gang battles, an attempted assassination on the police chief, hints of another Luthor plot in the works to another notable disappearance. The last raised more red flags than the former. It was about time Lex try something again. Although this could easily just be police chatter.

The disappearance seemed to follow similar patterns as the last two. A notable victim, someone in a relatively well-to-do line of work, high status and influential. This time it was a woman at the DA’s office, the new assistant District attorney in fact. The officers who had caught the case were certain the woman had merely run off after a bad night with her fiancé. Apparently the man was both physical and ill-tempered with a love of the drink. Not a good combination by any means. Batman however suspected something else at work here. A good portion of the night had been spent scouring both the woman’s home and her office for any clues, as well as a quick stop at each of the previous victim’s homes, searching for any missed clues. There didn’t seem to be much to go on, but the vigilante was positive this woman was victim number three and he dropped a message off for Gordon to keep an eye out for her sudden reappearance. Whomever the killer was, they would show themselves in the ADA’s guise in a week’s time if the pattern held.

By the time he made it back to Metropolis Bruce was well and truly tired. He had just enough presence of mind left to check in on the computers, ensuring everything had completed, locked down the results and turn everything off before heading upstairs. Clark was absent when he arrived, but he had expected as much. The man went in rather early in the mornings and knowing him Clark had likely stayed in Kansas for the night. After a few hours rest the billionaire would wake, check the tests and maybe text the man later. No doubt Alfred would be worried. He was asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillows, windows tinted to entirely block out the garish light of dawn.






(No worries. It was definitely worth it ^^ A month spent on a single day is a bit superfluous, especially for us lol.)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

It was strange how everything fell back into the old, familiar pattern like he hadn't been gone at all. Beyond the warm welcome back and a rather extensive catch up on recent events, and office politics and policies (and gossip, thanks to Jimmy) no one mentioned his absence, nor did Clark feel it. Around lunch the alien received a text from Bruce which made him smile. He texted back 'Thanks for thinking of me, get some more sleep.' before getting back to work.

He called Alice for afternoon tea rather than morning tea like they used to. Clark figured he needed to make an effort to mend the bridges he'd damaged over the last two months or so beyond the explanation at his birthday party. Even now he didn't want to lose her friendship, even if they hadn't really known each other all that long. Standing out front the bakery it was awkward for a long moment before she'd made a joke and they'd fallen back into their old rapport like Clark had fallen back into his job.

As satisfying as the day had been, the reporter was exhausted by the time he arrived back at Bruce's place. He'd stayed an extra hour at the planet so dinner was pretty much ready when he walked in the door. It was only just starting on sunset so hopefully Bruce hadn't left just yet. Ma gushed, hugging him tight at random intervals without letting him go change into something more comfortable than his suit and Alfred politely let her even after Clark shot him a desperate plea for help with his eyes.


(feel free to retcon the text. figured since you mentioned it it'd be safe to do so)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

Despite the lack of proper slumber recently Bruce only slept a few hours. By ten he was wide awake, showered and dressed for the day. His body was too used to the slim hours of recovery and rising to face the sun as surely as he faced the night to lounge about. Especially when he hadn’t sustained any noteworthy injuries the evening before. Martha and Alfred had already eaten breakfast when he arrived, likely had at the crack of dawn knowing them and were instead enjoying some tea and crumpets as they perused the morning papers. Pennyworth had made a point of always keeping the Gotham Gazette, Journal and other rags of import on hand no matter the town they were in at the time. It was something Bruce had picked up, needing to always keep abreast of any new developments. Glancing at the table as he fetched his daily liquid supplement the billionaire also spied Clark’s paper and what looked like the Smallville Times which Mrs. Kent was happily pouring over. How the man had gotten his hands on that he wasn’t entirely sure. Most likely he had ordered a subscription the day the alien and his mother had moved in for temporary residence.

They exchanged pleasantries, although the look in Martha’s eyes made him more than a little curious. Padding towards the table he wondered just what story had been printed about him this time to put that almost sympathetic gleam in here features.

“Eventful evening Master Bruce?” Alfred inquired, shaking out the Gotham Gazette, not so subtly directing his employer’s attention to the front page story. It wasn’t in the slightest bit surprising to spy an image from the confrontation with Cayzer emblazoned across it.

“I thought I spied a reporter in all that mess.” The billionaire mused, picking up the paper to examine the black and white splayed across the front and the horrible headline. Playboy Pacifist? What rubbish. Skimming the article it seemed the journalist responsible had been close enough to catch snippets of the conversation, citing what had happened in a general sort of way. Oddly the man portrayed Bruce as the poor hapless CEO betrayed by someone he had paid to run his company for him, hamming up the victimization and gullibility. Obviously this guy was new to Gotham or he wouldn’t have bothered to try and paint the cities brat prince as some innocent martyr. He was an opportunistic photographer though. The image displayed was likely taken early on in the confrontation, perhaps the one moment in the entire evening when he had actually looked a little doe-eyed. It upheld his guileless reputation at the very least. “Terrible tag line though.” Bruce stated breezily, tossing the rag back onto the table and instead switched his attention to the drink in hand.

“Indeed.” The old Englishman hummed, easily deducing that the situation had been handled and there was no longer cause for worry. Whatever Cayzer had really done to upset his charge the night before Bruce had taken care of it as swift and full of righteous justice as Batman handled crime. “Well then, crumpet sir?” Alfred offered, reaching for one of the buttered biscuits. Of course Wayne declined, but did actually join them around the table, selecting a separate paper to scan for interesting tidbits. Martha, not being privy to the silent exchange or the significance behind it, still looked concerned and laid a motherly hand upon the billionaire’s mildly surprising the man. She addressed the issue outright, inquiring after Bruce and his wellbeing. It was a kind gesture, one he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with outside of assuring her that all was well.

Afterwards they enjoyed a good hour of reading pockmarked with intermittent conversation and drinks. Bruce indulged in a hot mug of Assam tea at one point before deciding he’d put the tests off long enough. Excusing himself, the man slipped down into the cave, pausing only long enough to text the reporter as planned. The message was simple and quintessentially Bruce: ‘You didn’t come home and allow me to say I told you so in person. Guess this will have to do. Take it easy- Alfred worries... Have a good day. ’

Then, he got down to business, scouring every inch of the test results, not only to assuage Clark’s concerns, but his own about the man’s health and recovery rate. There was a marked difference in the readings from the alien’s arrival to now, which was a good sign. Despite the overcast weather he was getting enough sun, rest and taking in more nutrients than he had prior. The elevated mood played a factor in that as well he was sure. There were no real dangers or red flags there to be concerned about although he intended to make sure the man remained hydrated and looked after while he was here. There was no telling how returning to the stress of the Daily Planet might affect his health. A thorough comparison of the Kryptonian’s DNA sequence with a corresponding human DNA strand along with a plethora of simulations and projections taking into account not only the difference in heritage but the effects of the yellow sun verses red, what would be required for an offspring of both species to survive and he had his answer on the reproductive front. Not only was it possible, it was in fact probable. True he had no way of knowing how the strain of carrying an alien child would affect the mother, the gene’s at least proved it was possible. Clark was however not just abundant in his release but a careful examination of the sample proved he was also incredibly potent as he had previous surmised. The real surprise came in the added nutrients he found in the sample. It wasn’t just ejaculate and the codes necessary for reproduction, nor was it harmful as the reporter had feared. His omissions were in fact the exact opposite. High in both vitamin’s and key nutrients, vitamin B being the largest amongst them no doubt a byproduct of the alien’s photosynthesis, taking in even small doses of the man’s essence would in fact be similar to ingesting daily supplements. Perhaps even better given that some of those nutrients were hard to come by and extremely beneficial for humans. Perhaps that explained why it had tasted so sweet to Bruce, being a man who practically lived off of vitamin’s and supplement drinks. His body must have subconsciously recognized the familiar minerals and tricked his brain into craving more.

Checking over a few more results, Bruce decided before long that he was satisfied with the findings and once again locked down the information. The remainder of the day was spent working over the clues he had gathered the night before on the kidnapping case, and a couple of hours filtering his way through Wayne Enterprises backlogs detailing anything Cayzer may have had his hands in. Before long evening had set and Alfred called down informing him Clark had returned and that dinner was ready, meaning of course that he was expected to attend. Saving his progress, he did as requested and headed upstairs.

He found the group already in the dining area, Martha plying her son with copious amounts of affection while Alfred watched, amused, with a smile hidden in his eyes. The table was already set, filled to the brim with grilled asparagus, couscous, roasted peppers and tomatoes along with a hearty Irish vegetable and lamb stew to chase off autumns chill. Pennyworth had even taken the time to make two separate batches, ensuring one remained meat free for the alien. The billionaire took his seat, flanked by Clark on his left and Alfred on his right once everyone had been served properly. As per usual, everything looked and smelled positively wonderful.

“So how was your first day back?” Bruce inquired, surprising the butler by initiating the conversation on his own. “Must I fire anyone for giving you any trouble?” Of course that sounded more like his charge and he shook his head subtly. The man was ever practical, even in his concerns. If someone had broken the rules and caused issues where none should exist obviously he would want to know. But he knew the billionaire well enough to detect the humor in the question as well as the real interest beneath it. He may not show it, or speak of it, ever, but Bruce had a large heart and when he cared for someone he truly cared.






(Sorry that came out so long. Not sure how that happened XD)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

When Bruce showed up, Clark was finally able to make a legitimate excuse to get away from his mother. She pouted but let him go, occupying herself by helping to dish up dinner. Free, the reporter went to hug his lover hello, though he didn't kiss him. The small town boy in him didn't want Ma and Alfred seeing that. At the question Clark snorted, rolling his eyes in fond amusement. Still he couldn't help but smile. "No firing people, please. Everything went smoothly."

Settled down at the table, the reporter launched into a retelling of his day. He'd been bumped down to political stories again, as 'and easy assignment to get you back into the swing' according to Lois. He was pretty sure it was just another story she was fobbing off onto him. Clark might have been more annoyed if the debate he'd been sent to cover hadn't devolved into name calling and an almost fight. Lois had pouted when she'd found out and asked if he'd taped it. He would probably stay on politics for a while with the elections coming up. Hopefully there wasn't any corruption to uncover this time though; boring was sounding good lately.


(well a lot did happen.)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

The hug was unexpected. With the barrier of fear and perceived parental rejection resolved and removed from the equation it was logical to expect Clark to show his affections a little more freely throughout the course of their relationship. Bruce merely hadn't anticipated it happening so soon. Apparently his family and the possible stigma involved had been the only thing holding the man back all this time. Everyone settled in, and Bruce watched sipping the beverage placed before his plate as the elders of their group busied themselves with serving. His attention returned to the reporter when the man made to respond; he could practically hear him rolling his eyes. A dark brow arched the man’s way, but there was a touch of light in his one icy blue depths.

The group listened avidly as Clark freely and quite happily recounted all that had happened. It seemed to have been an eventful enough day, but in a mild sort of way. One filled with work but nothing heavy to darken his mood. And while they were each curious in their own way, Bruce was certain they were far more pleased that everything had gone well and that the alien was in high enough spirits to so freely converse without having to be coaxed. Today apparently was an all-around good day for the Kryptonian, one bound to get better once they had a moment to themselves and he could disclose the results of his tests.

Dinner passed comfortably. There was never a want for conversation, one topic offered after another. The food was superb, although Bruce consumed very little of it; sticking mostly to a nice selection of vegetables with just a little lamb for that extra protein. More and more he couldn’t help but wonder how Alfred was going to cope once the Kent’s returned to their own homes and the man was left without anyone to care and cook for. So rarely did Bruce allow the man to prepare such lavish meals. There simply was no point unless he happened to be entertaining. A rare occurrence if ever there was one.

Martha and Alfred both seemed a little brighter themselves, their interactions more animated, happily asking Clark every question imaginable while inputting their own comments here and there. Kent’s good mood was, apparently, rather infectious. It was an interesting change to watch and more often than not Bruce found himself simply sitting back and observing the group.






(Sorry about that. If you need more let me know.)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

Clark didn't notice he'd finished his meal until his fork hit the plate and there was nothing to spear. For a moment Clark wondered at that before he was handed dessert and the conversation continued like it had before. So too did he barely notice the passing of time, only realising how dark it had gotten when he got up to help with the dishes.

Excusing himself and shooting Bruce a meaningful glance and a tilt of his head, Clark made his way downstairs, waiting for his lover to follow. The billionaire had to be eager to get back to Gotham but the alien couldn't just let him go without learning the results of the tests... and stolen a kiss.


(nope fine)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

Bruce opted out of eating dessert; a lavish pumpkin fritter with a Dulce du leche caramel, and home churned ice cream. Alfred had really found a kindred spirit in Martha Kent, someone who seemed to love the art of baking as much as he. Where the man found the time for all this he would never understand. Pennyworth had always managed to cook, and clean while likewise maintaining the household and all the affairs therein without a single chore slipping through the cracks. It was incredible when you really thought about it and he knew he was lucky to have such an ally on his side. Everyone else seemed quite content to consume their sweets at a leisurely pace and he had no desire to hurry it along even if he could feel that familiar encroaching desperation to disappear out into the night and get to work.

By the time the meal drew to a close and everyone rose to see to the clean up the sun had well and truly set, and the dark of a new moon night had bloomed. It was time to head out. Catching the reporter’s eye as well as the hidden meaning Bruce bid his goodnights to Martha and Alfred and excused himself from their company. Neither bat an eyelash, going about their business quite used to the man disappearing at odd intervals. For a moment he wondered if Mrs. Kent ever found fault in his reasons for leaving, but he had never seen suspicion in her eyes; not regarding his secret at least. He headed downstairs swiftly, long legs consuming the distance in a few powerful strides. He found Clark in the hall between their rooms and without a word guided the man towards the protection of the master bedroom. Once the door was closed he got down to business.

“I’m assuming this little tête-à-tête is in regards to the tests.” He said without preamble, stripping off his sweater and moved to toss it into the hamper. The house slippers were likewise toed off and left next to the bed for the next morning, followed by the contents of his pockets being left atop the dresser. Only then did he face his companion, hovering near the secret elevator. “As I told you, I am in no danger. In point of fact, human consumption of your essence is beneficial in ways I never would have expected. It’s surprisingly high in nutrients and vitamins.” There was an almost smug quality to the look in his eyes, but subdued. This close to patrol he was already slipping into Bat-mode. “You will also be pleased to know that you’ve recovered completely from your previous depletion and you can in fact reproduce should you ever decide to somewhere down the road. I can send a full copy of the results to your laptop later if you’d like.”








(Heading out again. Freaking holidays XP.)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

"Er- yeah, sure." Well that was the opposite of what Clark had been expecting. Not that he'd had any reason to, since Bruce had seemed unaffected so far. It had been the long term effects that had been a concern though, and that was a load off to know. It was even helping, which was a little embarrassing. I'm a bloody tree, the alien thought, conjuring images of maple syrup oozing past bark.

Clearing his throat, Clark pushed the idea from his mind and stepped forwards to make the latter part of his reasons for calling his lover down here come to pass. The kiss was short, Bruce more than a little dialled out of day mode, but it was still satisfying even if he was kissing Batman rather than the billionaire... heck maybe even a little exciting.

"Go solve do what you have to. I'm gonna patrol a little myself." The success of the day had bolstered his mood enough that he was willing to try for a little while at least. Plus the meal had taken the edge off his weariness. Tapping the almost invisible earpiece Clark grinned. "Call me if you get bored."


(I myself am starting to feel the pressure on time constraints regarding all the things I need to make between now and christmas eve.)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

Clark appeared to be a little shell shocked, mildly, yes, but a little unsure as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with the information. Bruce was of the mindset that he merely hadn't expected a positive result and left it at that. Everything was fine, neither of them were in danger, there was no cause to worry. The alien seemed to blink back the nonplussed expression only a moment later. The kiss was less of a surprise than the hug had been, and he took only a moment to indulge the man's whims. He couldn't tarry long, and the Kryptonian was fully aware of that fact. But that made the lip lock no less enjoyable. He was certain he would feel the man's lips and the remaining heat upon his own for a good while after leaving. The thought had very little basis in science and should have appalled him for the sentimentality of it, but it was true whether he liked it or not. The vigilante chalked it up to that otherworldly warmth although he was certain that wasn't the only reason.

"Likewise." Bruce said simply, only the faintest of smirks flirting with one corner of the man's mouth. The matching ear piece was currently within his own, ready and waiting. A single gesture and the hidden device would open the channel. The odd compulsion to insist the man be careful attempted to present itself but he held it at bay knowing the man could take care of himself for the most part. But if anything did occur in the interim Batman was only a call away. Speaking of which, he realized he hadn't the chance to properly explain how to operate the things, doing so now.

"The earpiece has multiple activation points. Say a trigger word, tap the unit, or move," he paused, mimicking the gesture necessary: a quick, minute tilt of the head at a certain speed and angle. "A second tap or motion will deactivate it." A hand moved now, activating the hidden lift. The false wall swept open even before the appendage returned to his side. "Batman, B, help and SOS, English or Kryptonian will trigger the device." There were other languages as well but they weren't prudent at the moment. Nor was there a threat of someone else accidentally activating the thing. Each was coded to their own unique voice patterns and frequencies. The words this time were echoed in the reporters ear, the devices having switched on during the demonstration. A quick tap and they mutually reverted to the silent standby mode.

"Oh and your belongings are on your bed. I fetched them last night." visiting the cave in Gotham the evening before the billionaire had come upon the clothing and holographic projector the man had forgotten in his haste to confront Jor-El. Bringing them home by way of civilian bike hadn't exactly been pleasant. The risk too high for his tastes but he'd managed. With that Bruce swept into the slim elevator, ready to head out for the night.






(yeah it seems like the holidays just snuck up on you out of no where. Being sick for two weeks certainly didn't help. Don't over work yourself though. Also, sorry that took so long XD long night.)

[siany-chan]

CLARK KENT
SUPERMAN

With a nod the Kryptonian watched until Bruce disappeared from sight before heading to his own room. His suits, which he found in a draw, had been washed and folded, the hologram device sitting neatly on top of the pile. Kal picked it up, turning it on and watching as those all too familiar features smiled up at him.

A knock at his door startled him and the alien spun as Ma walked in. He switched off the hologram, hiding it behind his back as if it were something shameful. With a flick of his wrist he sent the thing gently onto his bed where it would be less conspicuous. It made no sense to be feeling guilty about looking at an image of his biological mother. Knowing about her didn't lessen the place Ma had in his life. However even with that logic it didn't change the way he was feeling.

"Clark, I just wanted to tell you again how proud of you I am." Expression serious, his mother took his hands in her's. "Don't let anyone tell you that mental illness isn't a real thing. I've seen what it can do to people..." For a moment Martha's eyes went distant, but then she drew herself back to the present. "You're getting your life back on track, which is more than a lot of people can do. I'll be here for as long as you need me."

"Thanks Ma, really." As much credit as Bruce got for his recovery, Ma had still helped more than she probably realised. They hugged then she shooed him off on patrol.

Metropolis needed some serious TLC after such a sporadic absence. Superman stopped no fewer than three robberies and so many muggings he lost count. Hopefully after a few days showing he was back in action for real this time, the activity would die down.


(you either. Don't want to get sick again so soon. That would suck being ill two holidays in a row. Do you need to cook again for Christmas?)

[Ruche Evermehr]

_____________

One last nod in silent farewell and the doors closed, lift shuttling the vigilante down into the heart of the underground. Given the late start the man suited up there, cleaned and enclosed in his preferred armored in moments, and climbed into the Batwing. The aircraft was the fastest means of conveyance, ensuring he was in Gotham and on the streets in moments.

The night was no less eventful than the previous. Crime was always abundant, but many of the petty wrongdoers had chosen to remain in doors that evening. That left Batman dealing with deeper more involved plots most of the time and stopping the errant mugging or assault in between.

Around two the batsignal flared to life, with Gordon standing, antsy and irritated atop the MCU huffing away at his pipe. The Bat got the distinct impression that had he not arrived when he did the man would have given up and hurried off even though his city sensors confirmed the beacon hadn't been on long. Turns out there was a hostage situation in the Gotham 1PP. Apparently a group of unknowns had slipped in and taken the place by storm, quite literally. One of their ranks was a Meta-human he assumed, a man charged with an almost elemental ability. They'd practical decimated the place, overrun the cops and locked them down in the subterranean holds with the incarcerated criminals. The group responsible claimed they had left orders they not all be killed, they needed something left to bargain with, but otherwise left the officers to the mercy of those they had arrested. Not a pleasant fate in the least. Batman didn't waste any time, and leapt from the roof only moments after having arrived.

The police precinct was predictably in chaos when landed atop the building across the way. Squad cars and swat surrounded the place and what appeared to be mist was actively pouring out every door and window, providing a rather effective smoke screen. A man he recognized as the police Chiefs second in command was manning the bullhorn but there seemed to be no answer from the criminals inside. A quick switch between vision scopes and his lenses flickered to infrared revealing only a single heat signature in a vastly chilled first floor. A handful of vaguely human shaped cold spots decorated the surrounding area, but we're either frozen or long dead. Scanning down he found several more hurrying to the lower levels. His mind was a buzz with plans and deductions, picking apart motive and possible course of action. Given the police chiefs absence it was logical to assume the man was himself a hostage, which could easily mean he had been the main target. And if that was the case this might not be a hostage situation at all but a kidnapping or hit. They would have to have an alternative means of escape, likely underground; far more inconspicuous. The meta was just a distraction. It was imperative he find his way into the lower levels first and stop the main force before dealing with the storm.

It had taken longer than he would have liked but he managed to make it to the underground holds to find that his hunch had in fact been correct. Of all the captured police officers the chief was the only one not currently trapped with the inmates, and the group responsible, a dozen soldiers in pseudo-army fatigues the likes of which he hadn't seen before, we're currently trying to escape. A handful of sedative capsules in each cell as he passed ensured no one else would be beaten or killed while he dealt with the instigators. The group was equipped with night vision to combat their teammates capabilities, likely flir lenses as well. Thankfully the bat had donned his ghost armor that night rendering each useless against him. A few brilliant flares left the majority of them effectively blind, the light amplified painfully by the goggles. A flurry of well timed blows and a perfectly aimed grapple line had them on the floor and out for the count. The ones who had escaped the light were a little trickier. Each was apparently a rather skilled martial artists, trained in more than one style. It had taken a moment longer, but eventually they too joined their brethren. The police chief was a little worse for wear but would survive, and stared at the Bat as if he didn't know if he should shoot him or thank him. The vigilante was, after all, considered a criminal himself in most circles. A quick warning that the sedatives wore off in ten minutes had the man moving.

The fight with the human storm hadn't been particularly pleasant, the strength of the man's abilities quite powerful. Half the building had been demolished and a few patches of his armor had been damaged by the cold by the time he brought the man down. Batman didn't bother waiting around for Gordon, merely tied up the meta-human and disappeared once more into the night. A quick stop at the nearest bolt hole, swapping damaged components for new ones, and he was back on the street prowling the night.








(unfortunately yes. Though I had no say in that matter. It was essentially decided for me XD I won't be making quite as much but it's still a lot of work for one person. But that's the holidays for you ^^ and sorry I passed out last night XD feel free to jump ahead if you like. Post was just getting long. )