Friends - Definitions May Vary

by Slades_Snowflakes

Summary:

Bruce Wayne and Lex Luther are not friends.

However, Bruce Wayne's persona Brucie is about to re-define what friends means. And due to a series of weird and random moments, Bruce is about to learn that Lex Luthor could be a friend. Whatever that means.

Notes:

• Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: Friends - Definitions May Vary | 朋友-定义可能不同 by Please_Press_The_RT (Reynard_Tybert)

Chapter 1: The Host

Summary:

Brucie Wayne and mistletoe never mix.

Everyone has secrets.  And Bruce Wayne has many.  Over the years, he has cultivated so many secrets that they are engraved in his very nature; the seams that keep his life private, in order. All of Bruce's secrets make up who he is and there are no secrets that he’d willing change.  Except one. There is one secret that he considers the most dangerous, equal parts embarrassing and horrifying.

The secret is that, no matter how much time Bruce has spent trying to ‘retire’ from the limelight that is billionaire parties and glorified galas, he can't seem to get rid of Brucie Wayne.   After spending the last twenty years trying to outshine and out dumb his personality to cover his nightly activities, Brucie Wayne has become a part of who Bruce is. Now with Dick grooming to be the new Batman, as well as the new CEO of Wayne Enterprises, there is no reason for Bruce to throw himself into the Brucie act, being wild and uncontrollable just for the cameras.  However, no matter how much he tries, Bruce can’t seem to kick Brucie.

It's not that Bruce likes the parties and fake people and long nights.  He hates them with the very core of his being. Bruce's problem is almost Pavlovian in nature, for once a champagne glass is put in his hand or a petite hand grabs his arm, Brucie is there.  And since he's been Brucie for so long, whenever a photographer says jump, he doesn't even bother asking how high anymore. Cause Brucie Wayne always jumps to attention. To be the biggest, the loudest, the most attention-getting fool that the paparazzi will love and adore.

And that's a problem.  A big one. Especially tonight at Luther’s Christmas Gala.  Bruce’s intent here was simple; Wayne Enterprise had recently acquired the tech company Novastem out from under Luthor's reach and Bruce was trying to find out why Luthor wanted that company so badly. He did not come to this party to ham the cameras and make a scene.  But like a moth to a flame, it just takes a flash of a lens, and Bruce stands up taller, wraps his arm around the nearest waist and smiles. With minimal thought or effort, he's moving around with his newly acquired ‘arm candy’, following the photographer's commands like a puppet to pulled strings.

With the Brucie persona on, Bruce would have probably spent the whole night chasing camera flashes and flirting, except the painful grip that latches onto his elbow as soon as the first photos are taken.  Even through the pain, he can tell that the grip is only a warning, but it is enough to break the hypnosis that the cameras seem to have on him.

Without turning away from the photographers, Bruce looks over his shoulder and comes face to face with Mercy, Luthor's bodyguard.  “Sir.” While her death glare is directed at Bruce, her words are being directed to Luthor, who is right next to Bruce, eyeing the arm Bruce has wrapped around his waist. The same arm that Mercy has in a death grip.

Being the World's greatest detective, Bruce is able to deduce a lot of things really quickly.  Oddly enough, the first thing Bruce notices is the mistletoe above them. This is an odd thing to grab his attention since no one else seems to have noticed it yet.  Probably due to the fact that Bruce had just manhandled his corporate rival into a series of friendly photos. Photos that the press is having a hayday with, if you count how many lenses and flashes are being directed at them.  Bruce isn't worried about that, the photos will be easy to turn into a weird PR benefit. Something about the Christmas spirit and good will to all.

What does worry Bruce is that the Daily Planet has sent their two ‘finest’ to this event.  The couple is near the edge of the group of photographers, eyes on Luthor and Bruce as if if they blink, this weird Twilight Zone moment might vanish.  Clark looks mostly confused, and maybe a little concerned for the wellbeing of the Justice League’s only benefactor at the hands of Mercy. However, Lois looks like she is already transcribing tomorrow's headline.  It’s sure to be something garish like ‘Business Bullies or Corporate Couple?’ Bruce won't like it, but he can work with that PR as well as any other.

Next thing to catch his attention is Dick.  Dick is near one of the exits, clenching a champagne glass so tight it may break.  His face is scrunched in concentration, but it is gone just as quickly as it came. The look that replaces it could only be described as the anticipation of watching a train wreck, his other hand starts to reach for the phone in his pocket.  Assuming that Dick’s plan of attack didn't actually have any attacks in it, Bruce turns his attention to the last, biggest concern, the said train wreck. Lex Luthor.

For the years Bruce has known and fought against Luthor, he always considered Luthor a man of extremes;  he leans to either extreme control or extreme emotions. And it seems this situation has Luthor emoting more than Bruce is use to. Bruce watches with fascination as several emotions war on Luthor's face, surprised that none of them were unadulterated rage.  Luthor sends a pointed look at Mercy, judging her for her too protective actions, before turning his gaze to Bruce.

Only due to Bruce's close proximity and his hyper focus on Luther does Bruce catch a microexpression on Luthor's face, the corner of his mouth slowly turning upwards.  Unsure if the motion is a snarl at Bruce or a smirk at whatever Luthor would possible find funny about this situation, Bruce waits with bated breath on the outcome of Luthor’s decision.  Luthor furrows his brow as he glanced down again at Bruce's arm, and Bruce thinks that Luthor will just signal Mercy to kill Bruce in front of all these people, to hell with the consequences.

But apparently covering up the death of your multi-million dollar competitor was just too much effort for the already busy evening.  Bruce can only watch in surprise as Luthor's face morphs into a fake smile as bright as Brucie's. Luthor wraps his arm around Bruce’s waist and turns away from Mercy to face the cameras again,  “What's a few photos among friends ?”

The quiet but harsh emphasis on the word friend is equal parts mocking and condescending, but it is emphasized more by the arm that clenches tightly around Bruce's waist, forcing him to hide a flinch. Bruce knows the younger man is showing that he is in charge of this situation, that this whole situation is happening because Luthor is letting it happen.

Having spent more than a decade fighting against Luthor the Villain as well as Luthor the Corporate man, Bruce knows this is a challenge.  But never a challenge he's had to deal with before. It's a challenge that he’s unsure if he wants to challenge or if he even know how to. He ends up following Lex's direction and faces the paparazzi again, only for another camera flash to light up his vision. The need to stand up and show off quickly overcomes him.

At this point he's not sure if he's Bruce or Brucie, but he knows that his hand feels cold against Lex’s cheek as he slowly turns the younger man's face back to his.  Knowing he has the man's attention, Bruce slowly looks up and watches with great satisfaction as Luthor’s grey eyes follow the direction up. Bruce grins at the micro scowl that crosses Luthor's face as he spots the mistletoe.  With a soft whisper, Bruce leans in, “And what is a kiss among enemies?”

Bruce had made many mistakes in his life.  Not all of them can be blamed on Brucie Wayne.  But this one he is blaming on Brucie. 100% blaming on Brucie.  Cause only Brucie would dare kiss one of the most manipulative masterminds in the world, mistletoe or not.  And not as a means of a challenge, or heaven forbid, to actually get laid. No. He did it for the flash and the fame.  Bruce knows that he can only pray for a merciful death to follow this.

However, as the milliseconds tick by, his lips stayed gently pressed to Lex's lips in a chaste kiss.  Bruce is surprised. Bruce Wayne is terrified. Not only did Luthor let this happen, he's continuing to let it happen.  As the cameras flashed around them, and the roar of shock and surprised onlookers surrounded them, it dawns on Bruce that he might not be dealing with Luthor the Villain nor Luthor the Corporate man anymore.

It seems Bruce isn't the only one dealing with a disconnected persona.  However, unlike Bruce's camera persona to stand out and make a scene, Lex Luther had tailored his entire camera persona to not causing a scene.  When in the spotlight, Lex has always handled everything with the precision and power of a man in control.  And though Bruce can feel Lex's fingernails digging into his side with the intent to hurt, Lex does not pull abruptly away; he doesn't violently push Bruce away, he does not yell or scream or curse Bruce out.  He keeps contact with the kiss enough to make it gentle and friendly before he slowly pulls his head back.

With his attention no longer focused on Lex's lips and the bizarre situation he has got himself into, Bruce noticed that not only is his side still burning from the death grip Lex has on it, but he can also feel his bones grinding together, his elbow still at the mercy of Mercy's grip.  He also notices that the camera flashes had double in amount since before the kiss. And for the first time in a long time, Bruce finds himself at a loss.

He.. He really needs to do some damage control.  This is getting too outta hand; is already too far outta control. He needs to walk away from this, quickly.  

Time for a tactical retreat.

Bruce puts on a blindingly wide smile as he slowly backs away from the pair, casually shaking off their grips.  Seeing that he is in the clear, he opens his mouth for some kind of farewell. “I’ll take the rest of that in the coat closet. Later .”  The lascivious comment leaves his mouth, accompanied by wink and a smirk.  As he walks away, the need to face palm himself hits Bruce like a wave of regret.  Brucie Wayne is going to be the death of him.

Bruce’s only saving grace tonight is that apparently all the paparazzi seems to stay with the host of the party and Bruce is able to break away from the group without incident.  However, before he can make a hasty retreat, he spots Dick striding towards him, though his attention is focused on his phone. Not ready to deal with any type of conversation that's about to happen, Bruce snags the glass of champagne from Dick’s other hand as he nears, “I will give you my entire company, right now, for your silence.”

A grin breaks out across Dick’s face though he doesn't bother looking up, “Bruce, I don't think it's my silence you should be worried about. I'm not the only one that saw it.  I'm not the only one who took photos. Actually, I’m the only one that hasn’t posted them yet.”

Bruce frowned at his son, “Yet?”

Dick continued to mess with his phone, ignoring his father’s tone.  “Of course, gotta make sure you look cute together.” With a big flourish, he presented his phone to Bruce, showing a photo editing app with a star-filtered photo of Bruce and Lex kissing, covered in BFF and Heart stickers.  

With a voice as cold as the dead of night, Bruce walked around Dick towards the exit, “I disown you.”

As Bruce leaves the gala, he is followed by an echoing cackle; a laugh shorten with a gasp, “Wait! We need to talk hashtags!”

Chapter 2: The Morning After

Summary:

Early mornings and family meetings never mix.

Bruce’s life has been full of bitter truths. He’s learned that the best way to handle them is to admit to them. Accept them.

Truth: Last night, Bruce didn’t just leave Luthor's Christmas Gala, he fled it.

Truth: Last night, Bruce went straight home and went straight to bed. This may not seem bad, except Bruce Wayne is Batman. Except he wasn't Batman last night. He didn’t go out on patrol. He didn't continue his research into Novastem. He didn't even go into the Batcave. He had called the Bats and Birds, rescheduled everyone's patrol to cover for him.

Of course, Batman doesn't take time off from the mission. So, when he told the Bat family he was calling it a night, the surprise and concern and demands for answers was overwhelming. His children's concern, while endearing, was also something he was not in the mood to deal with. So, in the outcry of his children, Bruce did a very childish thing and hung up on them. He knew he was going to regret it tomorrow, but he accepted that fate as he crashed face first into his pillow.

The last thought that went through his head last night was he was getting too old for this shit.

Having gone to bed early, it was no surprise that he'd wake up early. Earlier than usual. Bruce can’t remember the last time he's woken up at 6 am without an alarm. It's with this mindset that he wasn't thinking as he wandered into the kitchen. So he walks into the kitchen to see all his children sitting in the breakfast nook, eating and drinking coffee. Everyone. Even Jason. This should be the warning bells that today is not going to be good.

Bruce and Jason's relationship has been a fucking shit show. Two stubborn men with colliding morals. Though through it all, he still considers Jason his son, and it warms him that Jason was even willing to come to the manor at all. Though Bruce knows that this peace treaty, this recent act of civility between them is in thanks to his youngest.

It took years for Damian to openly admit to the connection he felt with Jason, and even longer for him to admit that he was afraid that if he failed in controlling his anger issues like Jason, Bruce would eventually kick him out. After that, something changed between Bruce and Jason. More allowances were made, compromises were agreed upon. They were working on not actively killing each other. And things were going good. But he didn’t realise that they were going this good. Good enough for Jason to come to the manor.

This peace is something he didn't want to break. But what to say? 'What are you doing here?' Too abrasive. 'What can I do for you?' Too aggressive. 'It's good to see you.' It was, it really was. But would that be too much?

“Oh my God, old man. Just drink some coffee and sit down. I'm just here for the show.”

Being saved from any awkward situations, Bruce leans against the kitchen island's counter, his voice calm yet  curious, “What show?”

Alfred walks over and hands Bruce a cup of coffee, “Sir. I believe that Master Jason is talking about the conversation your family would like to have about the late night escapades of one Brucie Wayne.”

Accepting the cup, Bruce softly snorts, “Well, Jason is going to be very disappointed since there will be no such conversation.”

However, before he could even switch topics, Damian stood up, pounding his fist on the table. “Father, we demand to know about your new relationship.”

Bruce only raises his eyebrow as he takes a sip of his coffee.

In the years with Damian growing up in the mansion, his hot-temperedness and superiority complex had been slowly boxed and buffered by the girls, to the point that Damian’s demands are no longer followed by threats. And if Bruce is patient enough, occasionally a please. Depending on how badly Damian wants said demand.

Damian kept eye contact, his face in a scowl. Then with an eye twitch, he followed with a curt, “Please Father.”

Bruce finishes his sip, pretending to savor it. “No.” Damian isn't the only outcry at this, as the rest of the family also joined chorus.

“Father!”
“Bruce!”
“You have to tell us!”

Bruce patiently waits for them to quiet down, “I don't have to do anything.”

Jason snorts as he leans back, “Come on, old man. You've done some really dumb shit as Brucie throughout the years, but this. This is gold!” With a flair, he plops a tabloid magazine on to the table, opened to the centerfold containing a whole spread of just Bruce and Lex.

The first picture looks candid; the exact moment Brucie first turned up, mid turn to the camera and arm reaching out, touching the small of Luthor's back. Luthor had his back mostly to Bruce, but was turning towards Bruce's touch. To the unknowing eye, it looks like the two were getting in position for pictures.

Where the first pic is candid, the second one looks full blown professional; showing them standing together, arms around each other's waist, smiling at the camera. But for how professional it looked, there was a problem with this picture. It doesn’t look staged. It looks good. It looks genuinely good. If Bruce hadn’t been there, hadn’t known his own fake smiles and known the painful grip that was wrapped around his waist, he would have thought they looked like genuine friends.

With building regret, Bruce turned to the last page of the Luthor Christmas Gala spread. The last page, and the biggest picture of the spread, is the kiss. “You look like a GQ magazine fucked a Nicholas Sparks cover.”

Jason's crude words earned him a slap to the back of the head by Cassandra, “No fun. Cute.” And while Bruce would never admit it aloud, neither of them were wrong.

The picture was taken right as they were pulling together, lips almost touching and Bruce’s hand against Luthor's cheek. It was their direct eye contact that really sold the smolder look. Containing a sigh, Bruce closes the magazine and turns Dick. “Dick?”

The only children not admiring the magazine, both Dick and Tim had been on their phones the whole time. Dick barely looks up, “It's a mess, B.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “And it was only funny last night?”

“Oh. It was. It was hilarious last night. But now it's a hot mess. Both Wayne and Luther stock are all over the place right now. They are jumping and dumping faster than you can count. It's like the world doesn't know if it should rejoice or run to a bomb shelter.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose to stem off a headache, “I assume you’ve already started a full media purge and paper buyout?”

Dick looks up sheepishly, “...no?” At Bruce's frown, Dick shrugs helplessly as he looks at his phone, “We are in a stalemate. The media purge and buyout was the plan. I was prepared to purge all social media AND buy out all the tabloids and newspapers. However, I figured I should wait and see which one Luther would focus on first. Once I knew what he was cleaning up, I could focus on the other end.”

Bruce tilts his head in contemplation, “But?”

Dick finally looks up from his phone, “Luthor isn't trying to clean this up.”

Babs frowns at the statement, “Do you think he just doesn't care, or is he waiting for us to make the first move?”

Dick shrugs, “Luthor’s entire life is based on his image. He cares. So, either he sees a benefit from this kinda publicity or he wants to clean this up as much as we do, but-”

Bruce sighs as he sits down, “But Luther never makes the first move.”

Dick nods, “And now we've waited too long. These images are everywhere! It'll take days to clean this up.”

Alfred comes over to the table, refilling everyone’s coffee, “So, what will you do?”

Dick picks up his coffee, “Well, we have to do something. People are jumping to crazy conclusions, and it's fueling a mild mad hysteria. People are claiming you two are in a relationship, a monopoly merger, and more.” He turns his phone over for the table to see, “There's even a ‘who gets which superhero in the divorce’ poll!”

Everyone at the table instantly starts pulling out their phone to check the poll. Jason is the first to pull it up, “Damn, I'm stuck with Luthor.”

Before the rest of the bats could tell their positions, a phone ring echoes in the hallway. Alfred looks at the empty phone charger on the kitchen wall, then looks at the bat family with a raised eyebrow. Nobody moves under the scrutiny of Alfred, save for Dick as he slowly raises his hand up and smiles sheepishly. Alfred tuts and then leaves the kitchen in search of the misplaced phone.

Steph breaks the silence as she snorts at her phone, then turns to Bruce, “Why not just make an official denouncement? Say that you got into the Christmas spirits and it was all a prank?”

Jason snorts as he motions to the tabloid, “Did you see these pictures? No one would believe that.”

Babs grabs the magazine and opens it up, “But they'd believe you were friends. Why don't you just officially announce you are actually friends? Just blame the kiss on the ‘christmas spirits’ and mistletoe.”

Tim takes a gulp of coffee, “ That.. could work.” He turns to his tablet, aggressively stabbing at it.

Bruce glares into his coffee cup, “I'm not friends with Lex Luther.”

Babs nods, “No, but Brucie could be. I think it's fitting that Brucie got you into this, Brucie can get you out.”

Bruce eyes his children. None of them seem out of place with the idea, “And you would be okay with that? Brucie Wayne being friends with Luthor?”

Steph answers, “Well, I know he's evil, he's done evil things for years… but has he really been that evil lately?”

Bruce frowns, “We are in the middle of investigating Novastem.”

Jason snorts, “Yeah, but you’ve only been investigating that cause he hasn't done anything evil lately. I mean, he’s been doing some weird shit lately, but nothing really evil. When was the last time Luthor went evil genius?”

Multiple voices chimed in around the table in unison, “Kunoa Island!”

Jason snorted, “That was years ago!”

Dick countered, “But he tried to wipe out an entire island and its natives!”

Tim paused, “But he didn't. Truthfully, his plans didn't even look complete.”

Steph nodded, “It did look half-assed.”

Seeing that he had backup, Jason sat up, “And we still don't know why he did it!”

Dick looks up from his phone, “Does it really matter why he did it?”

Jason gives him a scandalous look, “Yes!”

Dick refutes, stabbing his finger into the table, “No it doesn’t! Evil is evil!”

Babs interrupts the two oldest with a mischievous grin, “Oh Jay, you are just defending your new divorcee daddy.”

Jason chucks a bagel at Babs’s head, “Shut up.”

Babs catches it out of the air, and goes to throw it back, but is interrupted by Bruce clears his throat, “What about throwing food?” Both Babs and Jason sheepishly sink into their chairs.

As the built up energy in the room dissipates, Steph continues the previous conversation, “Looks, Pacific islands aside, can you name anything else?” Slowly, people start shaking their heads. Satisfied, she nods, “See, no reason why Brucie can't be friends with Luthor.”

Tim downs the rest of his coffee in a gulp before speaking,  “Small problem. I doubt Luthor would admit to being friends with Brucie.”

Before anyone can reply, Alfred returns to the kitchen with the phone in hand, “Sir. Mister Luthor is on the phone for you.” Everyone stops and slowly blinks. Bruce gets up and grabs the phone, but doesn't answer right away. He seems in almost a daze as he contemplates the reason for Lex to call, only stopping when Dick rolls his hand, motioning him to talk.

Bruce blinks, raises the phone and opens his mouth. And Brucie Wayne falls out. “Lexie! I'm so glad you called. I was just looking at our pictures last night. Have you seen these?! We look great! I mean, I always look great, but damn, aren't you the diamond to my rough.”

The faces of his children range from surprise and fascination, to utter disgust. Every one of his children has dealt with Brucie at one point or another in their life, but no matter how often one deals with Brucie Wayne, no one can really build up a tolerance to this level of sleaze.

Lex’s smooth and calculating voice resounds from the phone, “Yes, I have seen them. That is the reason for this call. I'm sure you have seen the amount of attention they have received.”

Bruce can feel a sleazy smile creep across his face, “Oh yeah. Everyone loves them. Hashtag Blex. Or was it Hashtag Luce. I personally prefer Hashtag Lucie, but I'm not picky. We should get in front of a camera more often. Like, right now. I’ll bring my own photographer.”

“And I'll bring mine. The Diverge will do, 10 am. Don't be late, Wayne.”

“Lexie. Did you just ask me on a-” *Click* Bruce pulls the phone away from his face and frowns at it.

Jason is the first to interrupt the silence, “Man, does that hurt your brain as much as that hurts my soul?”

Bruce puts the phone down with a sigh, “Yes.”

Jason leans forward and wiggles his eyebrows, “So, what about this date?”

Dick answers, reading a headline off his phone, “Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne to hold press conference at the Diverge.”

Cass nods, “Good choice. Neutral ground. Nice view.”

Dick continues to look at his phone, his brain turning. “That's good. Really good, we can clean this up before noon news.”

Steph frowns and looks at Bruce, “But Luthor never makes the first move?”

Bruce sits down in deep contemplation, “Not unless he’s got something to gain.”

Notes:

What's that, more than a year later and she posts another chapter. Silly girl. Maybe she will be better about Chapter 3? #Imtheworst #forgivethisfoolgirl

Chapter 3: The Press Conference

Summary:

Ties and coffee don't mix.

Bruce had to admit the Diverge was a great location for press conferences, especially one involving the two richest men in the world.  With a ballroom big enough to accommodate all of the press, and a back stage that was decorated like a five star hotel lobby, the place was bright, warm, and expensive.

When Bruce walked backstage, he expected to see the room full of photographers, PR staff, interns, and makeup artists.  However, the only people backstage were Luthor and Mercy.  Brucie walked up to them, arms open.  “Lexie baby! So good to see you so soon!”  Luthor offers his hand, which Bruce grabs in a handshake, but then pulls Luthor into a hug.

Once again, Luthor let’s the hug continue long enough to be considered appropriate, before gently yet firmly pushing Bruce away.  As Luthor takes the time to brush the wrinkles out of his suit from the hug, “I am surprised you are here so early Wayne.  I assumed you would be unwell from last night’s indulgences .”  

Bruce grins, “Well, the best way to avoid a hangover is to not sober up.” 

Luthor fixes his cuff and eyes Bruce, “And here I thought it was ‘don’t get drunk in the first place.” 

A genuine laugh bubbles up from Bruce’s lips.  “True enough!  But you know me.”  As Bruce takes in Luthor, he considers what he had expected to happen this morning.  He thought for sure Luthor would be angry or at least upset with everything that had happened last night, however from what he could see, there was no anger, no accusations from Luthor.  In fact he was acting like his camera persona.  Which meant…

In the guise of admiring the room, Bruce did a quick visual sweep of the room.  “Lexie, did they redo this room since the last time I was in here?  It seems so much more…”  He uses his hands to motion excessively.

Luthor frowns as he slowly takes in the room, “More gaudy?” 

Bruce snorts, “Grand!  More grand!  I think I need to find the decorator who did this and get them to redo my ballroom.”  

With his visual sweep, Bruce didn’t spot any cameras or bugs around, but wouldn’t know for sure unless he did an actual sweep.  However, seeing the curtains leading to the stage move, Bruce realized that Luthor’s caution was for another reason.  Walking towards the curtain, Bruce peeks his head out to see the gathering press.  It didn't take long to spot awkward Clark Kent in the front of the crowd.  Of course.  Luthor is afraid to be overheard by Kent. 

While Bruce tried to conceal the frown that came to his face, apparently he failed because Luthor tilted his head at him, “A little more attention then you'd expect?” 

Bruce forced a sharp laugh, “Truthfully, most of my kiss-ees just go tell their secrets to the highest bidder, not hold a ‘Let's make this official’ meeting.  What exactly is this meeting about again?  I wasn’t really paying attention to my PR guy on the way here.” 

Bruce is sure that he sees a micro smile on Luthor’s face, before it is covered with a look of contempt.  “Well, Wayne.  Some people worry about a monopoly of power when the most powerful men in the world consider hooking up.”  The emphasis on the word powerful causes Bruce to frown.  Due to all the complaints and hearsay Luthor had caused with the Justice League forming, Bruce knows this comment was a call out on the Justice League, not their current situation.

Brucie gives Luthor a roguish smile, “What? Afraid we'll take over the world?”  Luthor gives a soft hum, but makes no comment, just raises an elegant eyebrow.  That had always been Luthor’s concern, according to the man himself.  Bruce snorts, “Hmm, I’m not saying we couldn't. But sounds like too much work for me.”

Luthor gives a soft nod, “Well, I wouldn't want to wean you of your energies when you could be spending them on better deserving endeavors. I know how you like to keep your schedule open for friendly interruptions.” 

The statement causes Bruce to pause, “What could you possibly mean by that?”

Luthor gives a sly smile and walks over to the coffee table, “Everyone knows you are a party animal and a night owl Wayne.  Anytime you go out , you always seem to find yourself in the middle of trouble.” 

That hit a little too close to the truth.  Trying to process the idea that Lex Luthor might know he was Batman, Bruce walks over to make his own cup of coffee.

Does Luthor know? There's been a few times where Bruce thought Luthor might know, but he could never confirm.  Lex Luthor is a smart, devious man. He probably knows. Bruce is 65% sure anyways.  Pouring the coffee, Bruce figures this would be a good time to test it. “Now now.  You make it sound like I'm just waiting for some trouble and good times to fall into my lap.”

Luthor smirks over his coffee cup, “In Gotham, I doubt you have to wait long.” 

Bruce took a sip from his coffee to hide his frown.  Definitely had double meaning there.  Chance of Luthor knowing: 85%.  “If it's that easy to find trouble, why have I not found you in my lap yet?”  As the double entendre words tumble out of Brucie’s lips, Bruce tries not to bite his tongue.  But apparently he isn’t the only one surprised by Brucie’s lewd comment.  Surprise flashes across Luthor’s face before it morphs into a smirk.  

“While you might be easy, Wayne, I know I am not the type you keep as friends .  You always preferred ditzy blondes and people with fake smiles.  Ladies with wandering hands and all the wrong kinds of drugs.” 

Harley Quinn and Joker.  Catwoman and Poison Ivy.  He has to know.  100% sure.  Bruce can feel his teeth grinding together.  With Herculean effort, Bruce puts on a sly Brucie smile.  “Come now Lex, How long have you known me?”

With a calm, neutral face Luthor takes a sip of coffee.   “Long enough, Wayne.  Long enough.” 

Bruce tries to keep his mind from spiraling on this information.  He knows.  He’s known.  Yet, he hasn’t done anything.  Doesn’t mean he won’t in the future.  Bruce needs to do damage control. 

Multiple-tasking his freak out and the conversation, Bruce frowns, “Then you should know Lexie baby, I'm always willing to make friends with anyone, only criteria is you gotta be willing to get a little dirty.” 

A soft snort escapes Luthor, “And how dirty is that?” 

A lascivious smirk spreads across Bruce’s face, “Filthy.  I'm a real fun mess.” 

Luthor smirks, but before he can reply, Mercy taps his shoulder.  “Sir.  Fifteen minutes.”  The moment is shattered, the awkward tension between them seems to fall away as Mercy walks away. 

Bruce sighs, “So, why did you want to have this press meeting?” 

Luthor looks at Bruce softly, then gives a small shrug and pulls out his phone, “I already have enough lawsuits on my hand right now.  I don't need another one fighting for the custody of Red Robin.”  Bruce freezes at the name.  Before he can even reply, Luthor offers his phone to him.  On screen is a list of comments on the Wayne vs Luthor ‘divorce’ poll.

RedDeadRedHood posted:

@LexLuthor If you’re suppose to get me in the divorce, does that make you my new mommy?

@SuperBoyOhBoy posted:

@RedDeadRedHood Shove it Red.  He was my mommy first.

@NightHotWings posted:

@SuperBoyOhBoy @RedDeadRedHood Now now boys. We can all share.  I'm sure @LuxLuther will love us all equally.

@TheBestRobin posted:

@SuperBoyOhBoy @RedDeadRedHood @NightHotWings Don’t be daft.  Do you really think @LexLuther would like any of you more than me?

@RedYumRobin posted:

@RedDeadRedHood @NightHotWings @TheBestRobin Why am I the only one that got stuck with @BrucieWayne??

Knowing that this wasn’t the real reason Luthor was doing the conference, yet seeing the boys’ usernames and their comments causes a smile to spread across Bruce’s face.  As he looks up at Luthor, he can see a small smile mirror his as Luthor comments,  “I personally was disappointed in our society for making a ‘divorce’ their biggest concern about our friendship , but I must say that the boys ’ comments have been quite entertaining.”

“Now now.  Everyone loves a good fight!  Who doesn’t want to see someone fight to keep the people they care about!  Can’t let people think we are heartless bastards, now can we?” 

Luthor raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of coffee,  “You are right.  I would say all these boys  have daddy issues, but who would turn down the chance to have another adult to care about them.”

As the almost wishful words sink in, Bruce can feel his breath getting caught in his chest.  Luthor sounded sincere.  Luthor sounded kind. 

Bruce reviews the conversation in his head.  The amount of expression that he has seen from Luthor, the kind words that he had spoken, Bruce has a feeling that he is no longer seeing the camera persona of Luthor, nor Luthor the Corporate Man or Luthor the Villain.   As his whole world review tilts, he sees Mercy signal ten minutes.

And like watching a magic show, Bruce watches as this Luthor, whoever he is, transforms into Lex the Salesman.  He stands up, straightens his clothes, and a calm carefree smile falls over his face.  Unlike Luthor the Corporate Man that wants to take over the corporate world with an iron will and an iron fist, Lex the Salesman wants to be your friend, wants to convince you that everything he says is the truth, everything he does is pure.  With a kind smile and a silver tongue, Luthor the Salesman wants you to believe that butter won’t melt in his mouth.

However, as Luthor goes to pick up his coffee cup again, his carefully crafted illusion is shattered by a loud echoing bang.  Everyone flinches and quickly whips around looking for the disturbance.  The source turns out to be just the back fire exit doors slamming.  Everyone takes a breath, however, as the adrenaline calms, they become aware of a new disaster.  

The loud clash had caused Luthor to flinch and spill coffee over himself.  As he takes in the damage, Luthor is almost frozen on the spot looking as the coffee soaks into his tie.  Bruce can hear him take a deep, sharp breath before he stiffly turns to Mercy.  She frowns deeply, “Sir.  We won’t have enough time to get your spare.”  

Luthor slowly puts his dripping cup down on the table.  Bruce can see his jaw clench as he shakes his hand of the excess coffee.  Looking at the damage, Bruce sees that the beautiful emerald green tie is stained with coffee, and his jacket is damp, slowly soaking in the rest of the coffee.  The light green button up shirt is the only thing that seems to be untouched by coffee.  

Luthor’s hands twitch towards his tie, but stop.  Bruce can see the calculations happening in Luthor’s face, his face shifting between the Salesman, what he needs to be right now, and the Corporate Man that needs to take harsh control of the situation.  Bruce knows the two major options going on in Luthor’s head: Take off tie and jacket, or wear the stained garments to a press conference in front of the whole world.  Knowing Luthor’s extreme control on his image, he can tell both options are disastrous to this man.

Eventually the hand goes to his tie, taking it off in harsh, jerky motions before he haphazardly drops it onto the table.  Like a whip striking to a wild animal, Bruce watches a snarl flash across Luthor’s face before his face is back into a cold, neutral look.  Luthor’s fingers are precise but aggressive as they start to unbutton his jacket.  Mercy looks as upset as her boss, “Sir.” 

Luthor looks at her, and with a cold bitter voice, he snaps, "It is fine.”  

Bruce can tell it is not fine.  It is far from fine.  This isn’t any of the faces of Luthor he has ever met, and he’s met plenty.  This is a wild animal about to come undone, become uncontrollable.  Without even thinking, words tumble from Bruce’s lips.  “Take mine.” 

The sentence seems to freeze both Luthor and Mercy.  Luthor's tone doesn't lose it's edge, “Your what?”  

“My stuff, my tie.”  Bruce instantly starts taking off his own tie.  Luthor is still frozen, his eyes dissecting Bruce and his movements, calculating, sizing him up, his clothes and his intentions.  For the first time in awhile, Bruce feels self-conscious and he knows what Luthor is thinking.  Why?  Why is he doing this? 

The thing is, Bruce has done things like this before. Many times.  He has given the shirt off his back, quite literally, many times to anyone in need.  But apparently Bruce didn't know Luthor qualified as anyone .  

But seeing Luthor fight his own personas hit a cord he couldn't ignore.  Weird that he's now seeing Luthor as a human being when for so long he has only seen him as the Villain. But as he pulls his tie loose, Bruce wants to offer this, wants this moment to stand out. 

But this is still Luthor.  Would Luthor accept such a weird, unprecedented moment. Would he accept this kindness?  Acknowledge this weakness?  

All Luthor does is stare at the offered ruby red tie.  Eventually, Mercy clears her throat, “Five minutes sir.” 

And yet, Luthor still delays.  Bruce shrugs, “Unless you don't want that much of a hot mess?” He didn’t mean to, but his words come out full of melancholy.  Luthor’s eyes snap up to his face.  Bruce feels a self-deprecation smirk cross his face.  The same words used earlier now meaning something different, something new, though Bruce is unsure of what.

Apparently Luther is unsure too.  A series of emotions cross his face, too fast for Bruce to process.  Then Luthor speaks almost too soft to be heard, “The tie will clash.” His words are quiet, like he's stating a fact.  Quiet like it doesn't matter, or he doesn't want it to matter to him.  But he didn’t decline it. 

Bruce starts unbuttoning his jacket, “It won't clash with my shirt.  I’ll just take it off.”   And while undressing sounds like such a Brucie thing to say, he knows in this moment he’s not Brucie.  Not right now.

More emotions flitter across Luthor’s face, this time he can see surprise, concern…  Want.  Not a lusty, desiring want, but a look of someone that wants the impossible.  Words just as quiet as his last, “Thank you.” 

Bruce’s brain freezes for two seconds, and his own words stumble out of his playboy smile, “What are friends for?”

However, as his fingers move to his shirt's buttons, Bruce pauses.  

Bruce is not ashamed of his scars, quite the opposite.  They are testaments to his struggles and life long goals.  They are a part of him.  But he knows that they are calling cards to a man of violence, a man of survival.  He can not show these scars as Brucie Wayne.  These are only for Batman to bare.

With a deep breath, he undoes the first button and let's the rest of Brucie Wayne fall away.  He looks to Luther, to take in his expression as he sees the landmarks of Batman.  But Luther's eyes aren’t on his body, but on his face.  

Having Luther know he's Batman and having Luther see Batman is more different than he expects.  Luther takes in every detail, every change that passes his face; his own face critical but not judgemental. Once done, he reaches for Bruce’s shirt and starts putting it on.  As the last button is done up, he can physically see Luthor get control of himself again.  And as if he is picking up the conversation, like there was no awkwardness between them, he smirks, ”I have a feeling our definitions of messy vary greatly.”

A bark of a laugh breaks free from Bruce, startling both of them.  The tension between them vanishes like a gust of wind.  With a sneer that's all Brucie, Bruce grabs his tie and loops it over Lex's neck, leaning in close,  “I'm sure our definition of friends varies even more.”

With deft hands, the tie is tied into perfection, Luther watching intently.  As Bruce pats the tie into place, Luthor looks up into Bruce's eyes, a curious glint in his eye, “I actually doubt that.”  A new, different tension seems to grow between them as they stare at each other. 

Once again, it is broken by Mercy, “Two minutes sir.”

The moment gone, Bruce grabs Luthor’s shirt and puts it on.  Brucie is back, eyeing Luthor with a little smolder as he buttons it up.  Bruce smirks when Luthor grabs his stained tie and returns the favor by tying his stained tie around Bruce’s neck.  Once he steps away, Bruce gives the tie a tug, pulling it out of place and slightly crooked.  A look more suited for a hangover, half asleep Brucie Wayne.

Quickly they don their jackets, and head towards the curtain.  And it’s together that they walk out to tell the world that they weren't trying to take over the corporate world, they weren't planning to merge their companies, no they weren't in a relationship.  They're just friends .  Whatever that means.

Notes:

Two chapters in two days?! It's like someone is procrastinating at work or something. Hope you like. #workiswork #Lucieislife :D

Chapter 4: The Lunch

Summary:

Texts and tales do mix!

After the press conference, which went suspiciously well, Bruce smiled for the cameras, shook Luthor’s hand and headed home.  Since everyone at the manor had watched the press conference, Bruce felt no shame avoiding everyone and heading straight back to bed.  However, his afternoon nap was interrupted by his Justice League communicator going off.  Not even needing to lower his tone, his sleep rough voice croaked as he answered, “What.”  

“Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you Batman!  I’m so sorry!  But there’s something we need to talk about.”  Of course it was Superman.  Of course he would want to talk about the press conference. 

“Talk.” 

Where his voice was apologetic early, he can hear Superman’s voice take a serious tone.  “It’s about Bruce Wayne.”  Of course.  “Batman, did you see the press conference?”  

Bruce grunts into the phone.  Taking that as a yes, Superman continues, “While I am not one to tell Mr. Wayne who and who not to be friends with, I am extremely concerned about him getting involved with Luthor.  Luthor has to be up to something.   With Mr. Wayne being the Justice League’s benefactor, we need to be sure Luthor isn’t up to anything nefarious.”

Not surprised by Superman’s concern, but currently annoyed by his hypervigilance on anything Luther, Bruce grumbles, “I'll look into it.” 

He can hear a sigh of relief over the phone, “Really?  Thank you!  Lex Luthor can not be trusted.  With everything he has done-”

Before he can continue, Bruce grunted into the phone, “I said I will look into it.”  Before quickly hanging up.

Even though his pillow seems to call to him, luring him back into sleep, if he was supposed to investigate the fake friendship that he just told the world existed, he would need to start assembling one sooner than later.  Pulling up the manor’s phone records, Bruce hits dial on the most recent number.

When he hears the phone call getting picked up on the other end, Bruce doesn’t even wait for a response, "Lex baby! We just must have lunch tomorrow!"

---

It took surprisingly little effort to get Luthor to agree to lunch.  So the next day, Bruce checked his plan:  

Luthor, invited.

Restaurant, booked for the day.  

Paparazzi, notified.

Stolen watch, on wrist.

With his plan in motion, Bruce’s car pulls up in front of La Lune Bleue at exactly noon.  As Alfred opens his car door, Bruce is blinded by flashing lights of the paparazzi.  Brucie smiles and poses in front of the cameras, “Oh, you here for lil’ ol’ me?”

Too wrapped up in the flash and questions, he barely notices Luthor walking up behind him until he feels a hand on his elbow.  “Wayne.  I believe we have reservations waiting for us?”  

Once again, Brucie takes over, wrapping his arm around Luthor’s waist as he smiles at him, “Indeed we do!  Well, my darling fans, we must be off!”  Bruce steers Luthor to the door, surprised by the lack of resistance against the manhandling.  Once in the door, they are greeted by the host and escorted to the VIP room. 

They both sit as the host pours them wine, “Will the Monsieurs have their usuals today?”  With both men nodding, the host leaves them.  Only when they are away from prying eyes does Brucie’s fake smile fall off.

Not even giving him a second to relax, Luthor frown, "What do you need Wayne?" 

Sighing and taking a sip of his wine, Bruce cuts to the chase, "Superman is concerned that the benefactor of the Justice League is friends with you." 

Luthor tries to control his face, but Bruce sees a scowl cross his face, "Of course."

"I told him I'd investigate it, make sure nothing nefarious was going on." 

At Bruce's words, Luthor gives a deep sigh, exhaustion painted across his face before it vanishes just as quickly as it showed up.  "What will be required?" 

Curious by the expressions on Luthor’s face, but ignoring it for now, Bruce motions at the table. "Have lunch with me.  Smile for the paparazzi downstairs."

Luthor's eyebrow rises, "What else?”

"We will need a text trail.  Since we have time, I figured we would do that right now. I'll alter the times and dates later." 

Only now does Luthor pick up his wine,  his asks knowingly, "I assume you already have my number." 

Not even giving him an answer, Bruce picks up his phone and starts a text.  Luthor’s phone buzzes, and he picks it up.

Wayne

Lexie, I am SO glad I didn't delete your number! This is Brucie!! Last night at the Turnett Charity, you had the most gorgeous watch I have ever seen!! But I couldn't recognize the make!  You MUST tell me where I can get one for myself!!  

Luthor seems to be thinking back to the Turnett event, which happened months ago.  As Luthor realises which watch Bruce is referencing, contempt settles on his face as he spies the watch on Bruce’s wrist.  

During the Turnett event, Bruce had realized that Luthor’s watch was interfering with his earpiece.  In the middle of the event, he had had one of the boys steal the watch right off of Luthor’s wrist.  Luthor hadn’t made an issue of it going missing, but everyone at the event could tell when his mood went sour. 

With precise slow presses, Luthor texts a reply back.

Lexie

Unfortunately it is one of a kind.  I made it myself. 

While Bruce figured all of Luthor’s tech was handmade, he still feels a little uneasy knowing that he was wearing something of value to Luthor.

Wayne

Unbelievable!!!  You crafty devil!  It really is a work of art.  I haven’t seen one like it!!! :D Any way, would you be willing to make one for lil' ol' me?

The contempt look doesn’t fade as Luthor reads the text, however, slowly the look fades away into consideration, before the smallest smirk appears.

Lexie

I would consider parting with it, if you gave me one of your monthly appointments with Louiee Drafette.  

Were Brucie a real person, that request would be like asking for his first born.  However, Bruce just smirks over his phone.

Wayne

One of my appointments?  With the best tailor in the world?  You fiend!  You ask too much!

Luthor just raises his eyebrow.

Lexie

You can not fool me Wayne.  I know for a fact you have Drafette booked once a month for the next 20 years.  I know you have a spot to spare.

As their first course is delivered to their table, Bruce texts back.

Wayne

But is a Drafette really worth your watch?

Luthor is now texting with one hand as he starts to eat.

Lexie

I think I'll take your February spot.  I need a new suit for the spring.  

Wayne

Wasn't your last suit destroyed cause of that 'misunderstanding' with the Superman?

Luthor glares over his bisque.

Lexie

Yes

Wayne

Oh, don't be like that.  He means well.

Lexie

He can fall in a well for all I care. That was my favorite suit.

Bruce tries not to snort into his wine glass.  Finding it hard not to enjoy the moment, Bruce finds himself sharing a little secret, "There was one time where he was swallowed by a galactic whale."  He can see that Luthor is startled by the shared secret.  “He didn’t want to hurt it, so we had to force it to throw him up.” 

A grin spreads across Luthor’s face.  “He's always such a goodie two shoes.”  Grinning himself, Bruce turns back to his phone.

Wayne

Such a sad death for such a fine suit.  You will have my condolences as well as my February spot.  Your suit desired better. 

Lexie

Thank you.  I will send the watch momentarily.

Having hit a lull in the conversation, Bruce starts a new text thread, sending a series of texts in a row.  

Wayne

Lexie, baby.  Don't hate me!  :(  I know that I said I'd be at your opening party, but I can't make it! I'm so sorry!  Please forgive me!  Please.

Wayne

Lexie?

Wayne

Lexie, you wound me.  Your words cut me to the quick.  Not nice at all.  And you said that to that nasty little lady from the Planet.  You knew she'd post that everywhere.  I thought we were friends. :(

It only takes a few seconds for Luthor to remember what Bruce is referencing before Luthor is smirking at his phone.  

Lexie

We aren't friends.

Wayne

But… but… I’m giving you my February spot.  Drafette.  :(

Lexie

Fine. I am sorry.  It was rather harsh.  To make it up to you, I know you are interested in the Greek vase the Oaz Gallery will be auctioning off.  I may be willing to let you top bid.

It’s Bruce’s turn to frown as he remembers that night at the auction.  Luthor has been betting heavily on one of the antique vases, so thinking that the vase was some part of a nefarious plan, Bruce had tripled Luthor’s bet, startling the man so much that Bruce had won the bid before Luthor could even rebid.  In the end, it had turned out to be a very expensive, yet very plain Greek vase.

Wayne

DEAL!  How'd you know?! Is it not gorgeous!!  I know just where to put it!!  Over my mantle!

Wayne

It didn't fit.  Alfie made me donate it. :/

Silence settled between them as Luthor frowns at the text.  The silence hangs to the point that Bruce is about to start another text.  Without looking away from his phone, Luthor quietly speaks, “That vase was said to have the first known depiction of Alexander the Great.  I had wanted that piece for my collection for quite awhile.  I even had a room in my collections made just for it.”  He stops to take a sip of wine.  “Though, for all the places for it to go, I do approve of the Martha Wayne Art Museum.  They have always been known for their exceptional care of antique artifacts.”

Bruce feels like he should apologize, but the moment is interrupted by the host coming to remove their plates.  Once they are left alone, Bruce nods to Luthor’s phone.  “You should start the next one.”  Luthor stalls for a second, then starts texting.

Lexie

Since you claim to be friends, would you please tell the alien to stop destroying my labs.  I am tired of replacing roofs.

Wayne

I wish I had his number!  I'd give him ALL kinds of calls.  But even being the big JL benefactor, I couldn't get his phone number.  I'd say all you have to do is call his name, and he'd show up.  But I did that once, and got a stern talking to cause I wasn't actually 'in trouble'. 

As Luthor reads the text, he tilts his head, then turns to Bruce seriously.  "You actually did that." 

Bruce nods, smiling.  "A few times.  Whenever Superman gets on my nerves, I let Brucie fuck with him.  He gets too flustered when it comes to come-ons." 

Almost like he was startled, Luthor laughs a small, quick guffaw.  He shakes his head, a look of almost endearment across his face, "He has always been such a prude."

Lexie

I will not justify that with a response.

Wayne

You just did :P

As their main course shows up, Luthor starts the next text.

Lexie

Wayne, I know you will be crashing my birthday party, but would you be so kind as to adhere to these rules:  Do not consume/destroy more than three bottles of champagne, do not flirt with Mercy, and do not wander into the kitchen again.  

Bruce looks sheepishly over at Luthor.  He had done all of those things.  Within an hour.  Luthor meets his eyes and smirks.

Lexie

I thought I was asking so little.  I apparently was wrong.  However, I forgive your transgressions, only because seeing you knock the waiter's tray of drinks onto Mrs. Small did bring me joy.

Wayne

Alllways willllling to servee!  Geet it, seeerve!  Xase hee was a seerveer.  Im so dam fnnny.

Lexie

Are you having a stroke?

Wayne

What? Nnnnno.  Droppeed my phonnneee. screeeenn allll fxkeed up.

Luthor grimaces at the text, "That is nauseating."

Bruce shrugs, “Mercy broke my phone that night when I tried to get a selfie with her.” 

Luthor paused with his fork to his mouth, “Only the phone?” 

Bruce shrugged, “And two fingers.” 

Luthor’s reply was a shark’s grin, “Good girl.”  In retaliation, Bruce started typing.

Wayne

Hey Lexie, borrowing your Maserati. Thanks! Bi!

Luthor’s grin turned into a glare, “That was you!” 

With a look of satisfaction, Bruce gave a nonchalant shrug,  "It was for a good cause."  Luthor starts to text, but never takes his glare off of Bruce.

Lexie

I will be filing a stolen report.  

Lexie

Wayne, why was my Maserati found in the bottom of Gotham harbor?

Refusing to break eye contact, Bruce sheepishly texts back.

Wayne

… I don't remember?

Barely taking the time to look at his screen, Luthor’s eyes glance down and then back up, and his glare intensifying.  His motions become more aggressive as he punches the next text into his phone.

Lexie

I wish you drowned with it.  

Wayne

… favorite car too?

Luthor doesn’t even bother texting back, keeping his eyes locked on Bruce.

Wayne

… I'll give you my March spot too?

When his phone pings, Luthor looks down and pauses.  While his glare doesn’t falter, an arched eyebrow indicates his consideration.  Luthor breathes out a low, long breath through his nose before he starts to text.

Lexie

The least you could do.

To ease the moment, Bruce signals the host to bring dessert even though they haven’t finished their main course. As the plates are cleared, Luthor seems to release his anger.  By the time dessert is served and the host has left, Luthor is the one to start the next text.

Lexie

I wanted to say this to your face, but thought it rude.  However. The tie you wore last night has since given me night terrors. I would like you to burn it.

Wayne

Nooooo!  It was a father's day gift! I shall treasure it foreva!!!!  

Bruce can tell he’s curious as Luthor leans forward a little, “Who got it for you?” 

“Tim."

Luthor smirks as he leans back, "Glad I am not getting him in the divorce.  His fashion sense is horrendous."  Bruce freezes.  Of course, if Lex knows that Bruce is Batman, he would know who the Bat family was.  Bruce takes a breath: The fact that Lex knows the boys identities needs to be processed later.  So wrapped up on trying to overlook that fact, Bruce can feel his brain crashing to a halt, caught on another thought.  When did Luthor become just Lex?

Forcing his mouth to move, Bruce replies, "I want to be offended on his behalf. You are not wrong."  There’s a calculating look on Lex’s face, like he’s trying to figure what caused the stunted reply.  Either he figured it out, or something else entirely, Lex gives Bruce a secretive smile as he starts to text.

Lexie

Wayne, you have children. Are robots still acceptable gifts?

This seems to reboot Bruce’s brain, because he instantly remembers an issue the Justice League had to deal with a few weeks back.  A rampaging mech that turned out to be controlled by a 12 year old boy.  At the time Lex claimed it was just a gift. However, no one in the Justice League believed it wasn't nefarious.  Due to the recent events, and the current personal debacle in his head, it takes a bit for him to get into the Brucie mindset.

Wayne

Oohhhh yyeaahhh!  Everyone loves robots and mechs!  Make sure it has all the bells and whistles!  Can never have enough bells and whistles!!

Lex nods like Bruce’s text was universal knowledge.

Lexie

You were correct.  He loved the mech.

Lexie

You were wrong.  There can be too many bells and whistles.  And flamethrowers.

At this point, Bruce’s curiosity gets the best of him.

"Who was that kid again?" 

Lex gives a small, genuine smile, "Seth, my secretary's kid." 

Bruce is taken back by the candid response.  He starts talking, but is unable to finish his sentence.  "You don't seem the type to…" 

Lex looks slightly offended, "To know my secretary and her kid?  To get him a gift for his birthday?  What did you get Janet's girl this year?"

The mental wall that Bruce hit early reappears as he realises that Lex knows even more about him than expected.  Lets also process the fact that Lex knows that info as well, later.  

"A scholarship." 

Lex nods again, like that was the expected answer.  Bruce tries not to twitch.  "I already gave Seth two.  He is a smart kid.  And with the way he handled your lot crashing his party and destroying his birthday gift, I might just make the kid my heir. He's got a head for dealing with people fucking up his shit."  As he hears the affection in Lex’s voice, and now understanding both sides of the story, Bruce starts to feel like maybe he's the Villain in this particular story.  

With his phone in his lap, Bruce gently texts back.

Wayne

I saw it in the news!!! That is one sweet ass mech!  That kid is so lucky!!

Wayne

I'm sorry it got squashed. :(  

Wayne

Will you let me pay for the next one?

Lex looks contemplatively at his phone, but before he can reply, his phone alarm goes off.  In a blink of an eye, Luthor the Corporate Man emerges, "I must get back to the office.  Will this be enough?"

Almost disappointed,  Bruce slowly nods.  "Yes, thank you for your time."  Luthor nods his head, gets up and walks away, leaving Bruce to process everything that happened.  In a daze, Bruce slowly starts texting.

Wayne

Lexie, thanks for the lunch!!!  I had a great time, let's do it again real soon!!!!!

Bruce gets up, pays the bill and calls Alfred to bring the car around.  When he gets to the car, he receives a text.

Lexie

....I agree.

Wayne

To both? ;)

Lexie

To both.

Notes:

Is Slade slacking at work? Why yes, yes she is. But that means you get another chapter! But Oh NO! I'm out of outlines. I'll try and ramp those out for y'all! Thanks for reading so far!

Chapter 5: The Visit

Summary:

Surprise visits and dramatics don't mix.

With the texts a good starting point, it only takes Bruce a few days to put together a folder on the Wayne and Luthor ‘investigation’.  When he hands over his gathered information to Superman, Superman was his usual thankful self, however Bruce could see that Superman was almost disappointed that Batman was unable to pull up any damning evidence on Luthor using the friendship as a means of evil.  Even after the Man of Steel leaves, Bruce knows that Kent will probably do his own investigation.  If so, Lex and he will have to be careful the next few times they interact.

That done, there was a much bigger issue that Bruce needs to address. A mandatory bat family meeting to talk about the knowledge that Lex Luthor knows everyone's identities.  Surprisingly, that want better, or maybe worse, than expected:

Damian, the first and loudest to protest, "How long has he known?!" 

Bruce is definitely disappointed that he doesn't have the exact answer, "I don't know specifics, but...  long enough." 

Tim snorts, "That's what he told you, isn't it?" 

Bruce swallows a sigh, "Yes."  There was then a chorus of voices on how they needed to handle it, from extreme measures like relocating the batcave and everyone moving and changing their names, to even more extreme measures like killing Luthor. 

"We will be talking about this suggestion later, Damian." 

However, Jason's response causes everyone to stop, "Who cares?  Seriously?  He knows.  So what?  He's known Superman's identity forever.  He's done shit with that information, and Supes hasn't done anything to counter that, besides sigh disappointingly at Luthor.  I say we do nothing, cause we don't need to do anything until we have to."

"Jason is right."  The gasps and whats that follow are silenced with Bruce's raised hand, "We don't know how long he's known, but he has yet to use it against us.  So we will do nothing.  We have contingency plans in place for events like this, and until we have to use them, we won't second guess the what ifs.  Understood?"  

So, surprisingly, after the meeting, after the handoff, no other issues crop up.  The world seems to keep on turning.  The people have accepted their friendship, the stock market has settled in time for the holidays.  And Bruce and Lex are now friends.  Sending each other holiday greetings, bicker over frivolous conversations, eventually Bruce and Lex seem to fall into a cadence that carries into the new year.  So, on the evening of January 14th, halfway through dinner before patrol, Bruce is surprised when he receives a different type of text.

Lexie

I’m coming over.

His confusion must have been evident on his face, Damian instantly jumping to attention, “What is it father?” 

Bruce frowns before putting the phone down.  “Lex Luthor is coming over.”  Everyone sits up straight, alert.  Bruce tries not to smirk at all their micro actions. Quite a few hands jerk to hidden weapons that are not allowed at the table.  A few faces turn guilty realising that they’ve been caught, but others stand firm that this was the exact reason weapons should be allowed at the table.

To break the tension, Alfred starts refilling water cups, “Will I need to set a table for Mister Luthor?”  Bruce shoots a quick text.

Wayne

Oh exciting!  Surprise visit!  Should Alfie set you a place at the table?!

No response comes.  Eventually the family returns to their food, the tension draining away.  However, as they near the end of the meal, Bruce’s phone pings.

Lexie

No.

Before he can even reply, there is a knock at the door.  He motions to Alfred that he will join him at the door, and then turns to the kids.  “Stay put.  No weapons.  He will be a guest until we can prove he is a threat.”  Bruce follows Alfred to the door, watches as Alfred opens the door to reveal Luthor the Salesman.

Luthor looks laid back, his body language open and a big smile on his face.  “Bruce!”  Brucie instantly smiles in turn, and instantly pulls Luthor into a hug.  However, as he wraps his arms around Luthor, he feels that Luthor’s muscles are tense, his whole body tight as a wire. 

Stepping away, he motions for Luthor to come inside, “Lexie, come in!  What are you doing in Gotham?!” 

As Luthor walks in, he keeps his easy smile in place, “I was in town for The Green Bonnet’s ten year anniversary.  Figured, why not visit my dear friend after such a delightful meal.”  

Behind Luthor, Alfred starts to close the front door.  Like a switch being turned off, the moment the door latches shut, Luthor’s whole demeanor falls apart.  His smile vanishes, his complexion turns ashen and his body goes rigid.  As a man that has so much control over every aspect of his life, Bruce has never seen Luthor lose control like this.  However, there are some times when even personas and masks are not strong enough to stop physical reactions.  Only with the experience of having raised seven kids does Bruce instinctively grab the empty umbrella bucket and places it in front of Lex before he throws up the content of his stomach. Bruce braces his arm around Lex’s back to keep him over the bucket.

Once the first heave is done, Alfred gently motions to Bruce, “Why don’t you escort Mister Luthor to the restroom?” 

Nodding, Bruce gently guides him to the nearest room.  “Lex, were you poisoned?  Are you having troubles breathing? Is your vision blurred?”  Lex’s head-shake is jerky as he tightens his grip on the bucket.  Once in the bathroom, Lex easily relinquishes the bucket to kneel over the toilet in time to throw up a second time.  

A rustle causes Bruce to turn towards the door to see Dick standing awkwardly in the way.  He hands over the bucket, “Run tests on this, check for poisons and toxins.”  Lex looks up and weakly waves in stop motion, but Dick is gone in a flash, and Lex ends up turning his attention to his previous activities.  

Once the second wave seems to slow down, Lex rests an elbow on the toilet edge and leans his head into the croak of his arm.  As he looks up at Bruce, Bruce can only feel sorry for him.  The always-put-together business man just looks like a sick, exhausted man spread too thin.  Seeing the pity on his face, Lex glares, though it lacks his usual vigor, “I am not dying.  It's not poison nor some toxins. It’s just food allergies.” 

Releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, Bruce looks around for something to do to distract from the adrenaline rushing through his veins. In the end, he wets a washcloth and bends down to whip Lex’s face off, “What are you allergic to?” 

Lex snorts as he tries to get in a more comfortable position, “Everything.”  

Bruce snorts, “Dramatic much?  Could you be more specific?” 

Lex waves his hand half-heartedly, “I have a list, but this feels like corn syrup.  It is probably corn syrup.  They put it in everything.” 

Bruce nods and goes to rinse off the washcloth only to return to whip the sweat that is building on Lex’s head.  “So, why come here?  Not your hotel room, or god forbid, a hospital?”  

Lex leans back into his arm and closes his eyes in what looks to be an attempt to settle his stomach.  He answers weakly, “Would be quite devastating to a restaurant’s reputation if they gave food poisoning to the richest man in the world during their tenth anniversary.” 

Bruce snorts at the ‘richest man’ bit, but then slowly lowers himself into a setting position, leaning against the cupboards, “You said the Green Bonnet?  Isn’t that the farm-to-table restaurant?” 

Lex hums in reply, “Yes. Due to my excessive list of allergies, they are a favorite restaurant of mine in Gotham.  As such, I left Mercy to look into the matter.  Hopefully she will not cause too much of a scene until the real issue is found.”

Alfred clears his throat as he enters the bathroom with a tray.  Bruce takes the tray and puts in on the ground near Lex: A cup of water, multiple allergy medicines, an epipen, antacids, and a handkerchief.  Bruce grabs the water and offers it to Lex, but he shakes his head minutely, “Save it.  Unfortunately, I’m not done yet.”

Alfred frowns at the two men, before turning his attention solely on Lex, “Sir, if you are willing to give us the list of your allergies, mayhaps I could make you something to settle your stomach?”    

Lex grimaces at the statement, but starts to pull out his phone.  However, after unlocking his phone with a shaky hand, he hands his phone over to Bruce before leaning his head against his arm again, closing his eyes.   “It’s in Files.  Personal.  Health.  Allergies.”  

Bruce is holding his phone as if he was given the holy grail and a live bomb, “You keep your personal information on your phone.”  A grunt is the only reply he gets.  “Aren’t you worried about it someone hacking it?” 

At this, one eye creaks open and Lex gives a small grin, “Just go ahead and try.”

Bruce starts to navigate through the files, “…. And you are giving this vital info to us?”  To me?

Lex’s shrug is muffled by his position, “You claim we are friends.  In the name of Drafette.”

Bruce snorts, “In the name of Drafette." His humor is replaced with disbelief, "Good god, you really are allergic to everything. Corn, milk, red meat, soy, gluten.  How are you not dead yet?” 

Lex looks over with a look set in stone and carved with defiance, “Simple unadulterated stubbornness.”  However, his defiant look is ruined as he turns back to the toilet to expel the last of his dinner.

Bruce quickly adds Alfred to Lex’s phone, and sends the allergy list to him, and a copy to himself.  Once done, he puts the phone back into Lex’s pocket and starts to rub his back.  Once finished, Lex accepts the cup of water, though takes none of the pills.  “Think you can make it to a guest bedroom, or will the couch be preferred?” 

Lex slowly gets up leaning heavily on Bruce, “I doubt I could make it up the stairs.”  

Bruce grabs the handkerchief, “Couch it is. Here, get the smell out of your nose.”  Lex stares at the offered cloth before eventually his brain catches up with the request. 

After Lex blows his nose, Bruce escorts him to the family room couch.  “Just lay down and rest Lex.”  Surprisingly, it takes little effort for him to do just that.

Alfred enters the room with more supplies and a new bucket to sit next to the couch.  After a few minutes of shuffling around into position, Lex seems to settle with his arm draped over his face.  Bruce sits down into his chair and pulls out a laptop to do some work. And then it is quiet.  For a little bit.

“Father, why is Lex Luthor sleeping on our couch?”  Bruce looks up from his laptop to see Damian in the doorway. 

He tries to motion for Damian to be quiet and not disturb Lex, but his effort is futile as a croak comes from the man, “Because I am dying.” 

At the weird mixture of emotions that spread across Damian’s face of excitement and concern, Bruce snorts at Luthor, “You are not dying."  Bruce turns back to Damian, "He is not dying.  He is ill.  You will leave him be.  Don’t you have a patrol?”

Damian crosses his arms, “Don’t you father?”  

Bruce goes back to his laptop, “No.  Tonight’s shifts have been switched.  I’ll be looking over some numbers tonight.  And maybe even your report card.” 

Damian sticks his nose in the air, “My report card is perfect!” 

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “Even your history grade?” 

Bruce anticipates the tut before he even hears it, Damian's voice is laced with indifference,  “Tut. My history grades are perfect… Perfectly boring.” With that, Damian struts out of the room, his head held high.

Lex mummers into his arm but he seems to trail off, “He’s…..” 

Bruce catches the implication, “Feisty?” 

Luthor's laugh is muffled by his arm, “I was going to say, he’s definitely your son.” 

Bruce snorts, “Oh, shut up you.” 

Lex’s phone starts to ring in the silence that follows.  Not dislodging the arm over his face, Lex slowly pulls out his phone and answers the call, though he gives no verbal response, just holds it to his ear.  After a few minutes of someone apparently talking, Lex finally talks, “Sue them.  All of them.”  Another pause then, “No, I will not be moving for the foreseeable future.  I am dying.  Sell everything.  Though I want you to have the Malibu Mansion.  You deserve to have that.”

With that, Lex hangs up the phone and groans softly into his arm.  Bruce smiles at the antics, “Dramatic much?” 

In the same words and tone from just a few minutes ago, Lex snorts, “Oh, shut up you.”

The mimicry causes Bruce to chuckle as he asks, “Did she find out what killed you?” 

A soft, disappointing sigh escapes Lex, “Apparently the honey supplier that the Green Bonnet has been using for the last five years had started illegally diluting their honey with corn syrup.  As they deserve, the restaurant and I will be suing them six feet into the ground.  And every honey farm in China.”

Bruce nods, knowing that for some people that would be a bit extreme, but for a man of Lex’s power and standing, it would just be considered doing his due diligence.  “That’s quite a task ahead of you.”  A grunt was the only reply.  “Well, get some rest Lex.”  Eerie silence fell between them.  “You’re going to be a very busy bee tomorrow.”

A pillow sails through the air, hitting Bruce in the head, startling a laugh from his lips.

Notes:

This girl is on fire!!! Though this weekend is a bit busy, so keep tuned! Thanks for all the love y'all! #moreplease!

Chapter 6: After The Visit

Summary:

Eggs and advice do mix?

When Dick is working on Wayne Enterprises business, it is no surprise that he tends to zone in on the work.  The rest of the world falls away as he navigates the intricate balance between managing a company and pretending to not care about said business.  However, this fine balance requires dedicating long hours and early mornings to the Enterprise, committing every waking second to running the business and making it work from behind the shadows.  

As such, when Dick is the only Wayne family member to be awake at four am, it is not an ideal time to startle him when he is only one cup of coffee in and reading the morning newspaper.  Unfortunately, the ghostly white specter Dick sees in his peripheral did not get the memo.  With lightning speed, Dick is already whipping a batarang at the specter before his brain could remember that last night they had had a guest visit who had also spent the night.

Lucky for Lex Luthor, due to Dick's lack of sleep and not enough caffeine, the batarang misses its mark, instead lodging into the door frame next to Luthor's head.  The kitchen falls into a dead silence while Dick tries to process that he almost killed assaulted Lex Luthor and waits for his reaction with baited breath. 

However, Luthor just slowly blinks at Dick, seemingly unphased by the attempted attack. Right as the silence gets tight enough for Dick to want to break it, Luthor nods his head in greeting before heading into the kitchen.  “Good morning Richard.  More coffee?”

With Dick’s attention still frozen on Luthor, it takes a few seconds too long for the question to finally register in his brain.  Dick looks down at his empty coffee cup.  Looking back at Luthor and finding him casually tying an apron on, Dick realizes that he really does need more coffee to deal with whatever the fuck this is.  His voice laden with confusion and suspicion, Dick slowly nods his head, “Yes please?”  

Luthor turns to the coffee machine and starts it up.  As the water starts to warm, Luthor turns to the cupboards, casually searching the contents.  Confused and intrigued by this weird guest and even weirder situation, Dick takes in Luthor’s appearance.  The man looks like his normal put-together self, giving no indication to the illness he had last night from food allergies. 

The only thing that seems off, besides the apron, is it looks like Luthor also borrowed some of Bruce’s clothes; the shoulders of the shirt are a little too baggy, and the pants are almost too short for Luthor’s longer legs. Too focused on Luthor’s clothes, Dick barely registers Luthor pulling out plates and then a pan.  However, when Luthor opens the fridge and pulls out a carton of eggs, Dick finds himself talking, “Alfred will be more than upset if he finds your cooking food for yourself.”

Luthor smirks over his shoulder at Dick, “How would he know?  I do plan to be gone before he could find out.” 

Dick grins confidently, “Alfred always knows when someone touches his kitchen.”  Luthor shrugs and continues without pause.  Wanting to continue to watch Luthor like a hawk, Dick instead turns back to his laptop and lets Luthor continue with his cooking, but keeps the man in his peripheral, just in case.  

It is with the quiet sounds of sizzling oil and cracking eggs that Dick goes back to reading the morning news.  Halfway through the business section, an email pings on his screen.  After a quick scan, the calm of the morning is ruined by Dick cursing loudly.  This seems to cause Luthor to pause in the act of transferring his cooked eggs to a plate.  As he looks up and takes in Dick’s dark glare and barely kept anger, he frowns, “May I ask?” 

The death glare Dick is giving his computer would kill a cheaper laptop, “This company will be the death of me. Everywhere I look, something is falling apart.  I’m constantly swamped with board meetings, and overwhelmed with the stock market shocks.  And now HR is on a war path.  I mean, how do you and Bruce do this shit everyday?” 

Finishing plating the eggs, Luthor moves to the finished brewed coffee and starts to fill a cup, “You make it sound like we just do it all by our lonesomes.”

The very thought causes Dick to pause, “Well, no.  But… I mean… don’t you?” Having walked over to the table, Luthor pauses just before starting to fill Dick’s cup, and only raises an eyebrow at Dick.  Luthor’s amused look causes Dick to sputter, “I mean, you.. You’re you.  Everyone knows that Lex Luthor is a one-man army, business man.” 

Coffee cup filled, Luthor walks back to the kitchen and grabs two plates of eggs and heads back to the table.  His voice is heavy with sarcasm.  “Indeed.  I do everything, without help from anyone.  I don’t delegate.  I don’t compromise. I don’t give advice to anyone.”

Dick looks down at the sunny side up eggs that Luthor pushes in front of him and feels a light blush on his face, “Oh, thanks…  Are.  Are you giving advice?” 

Luthor pauses halfway from pulling out his own chair, “Do you need advice?” 

Dick quickly refutes, “What? Nooo..”  

Instead of being offended by Dick’s childish refute, Luthor smirks and sits down.  ”Of course.  Would be poor form to take my advice anyways.  Business enemies, aren’t we?”  The awkward look on Dick’s face was more than enough to answer.  Luthor smirks,  “Though, may I follow up and ask why you haven’t talked to your father about whatever the issues are?” 

Dick’s answer almost comes out as a squeak, “Cause he’s busy?”

Luthor lays a napkin over his lap, “Too busy to help his son run a multi-billion dollar company?” 

Dick sputters, “Yes!  He’s super busy being….." Dick pauses, but then realizes he can actually say it.  "Batman.  You know he’s Batman, I know he’s Batman.  He’s too busy Batmaning.”  Luthor smirks at the ridiculous verb but motions Dick to continue with a nod.  “He’s been crunching hard time as Batman, for both Gotham and the Justice League.  Add all the Wayne Enterprise business, he’s been running himself ragged.  I can’t ask for help now!  He only recently agreed to let us help in the first place!” Feeling like he’s gotten off topic, Dick flares his hands in the air trying to indicate that the conversation was done.

“Since you are helping him, you believe it would be counterproductive to ask for help in turn?” 

Trying hard not to react, yet a small pout forms on Dick’s face, “Well, yeah.  I mean, Tim would have been a better person for this but you saw what happened.” 

Luthor frowns over his coffee cup.  “Yes, I did see the unfortunate stock drop and fall out when Timothy was put in charge of Wayne Enterprises.  Personally, I was quite disappointed.  He really would be an unstoppable force at the head of Wayne Enterprises.”

This seems to be a trigger as Dick spits out viciously, “I know, right?!  Are they fucking serious!  Tim would have been the most competent CEO they could ever have, and what?  Everyone acted like it was the end of the world!  Everyone starts freaking out that he’s too what?  Too serious?  Too focused?  They actually would prefer another Brucie Wayne?  What the fuck is wrong with people?!”

Luthor turns to his breakfast, “I believe the list is too long.  But unfortunately, when it comes to business, people like tradition and people like to be entertained.  And unfortunately for you,  ‘Richie Wayne’ is left carrying all the weight.  A legacy of disrespect and secondhand disregard.”

Taking his aggression out on his eggs, Dick stabs them with his fork, smearing yolk everywhere.  Only after he realizes the disrespect he caused the eggs Luthor cooked him, Dick smiles half-hearted at the man, “Thanks for the eggs…”  Not really hungry, but not wanting the offering to go to waste, Dick started cutting up the eggs into bite sized pieces.  Having mustered up enough of an attempt to eat, Dick was midway to taking a bite when Luthor started talking.

“When I was growing up my father was grooming me to take over his business.  So many times he told me that the Luthor legacy was mine to carry, and mine alone.  He always said, ‘if you want something done right, you must do it yourself.’  He made sure that I knew how to handle finances, how to read contracts, blueprints, and scientific readouts. He made sure that I knew how to be confident, to give orders, to be in charge.”  

Egg still suspended in air, Dick frowns, “Are we bragging here?  Mr.Businessman taking a shot at me cause I wasn’t prepared enough to take over WE?” 

A weirdly soft look crosses Luthor’s face, “Not at all.  I don’t believe anyone could be prepared to take over a multi-billion dollar company.” 

Dick snorts before shoving his fork in his mouth.  Speaking around the food and using the fork to motion at Luthor, “Bullshit.  Everyone knows that LexCorp was a success from the very beginning.”

A look of smug pride flashes over Luthor’s face as he nods, “Of course it was a success.   I knew what I was doing.  I knew what was happening in every aspect of my company.  I knew who was doing what, and how to get them to do better." The pride in his voice dwindles down until a self-deprecating smirk flickers across his face.  "But I wasn’t leading my company.  I was showboating.  I was near manic in my desire to show my father, to show the world that I was great.  That I was greater than my father ever could have been. And it showed in how I ran my company.  I double checked everyone’s work, I re-read reports and demanded second readings. 

“I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was paranoid.  With all the lessons my father gave me, he had warped me so much in the belief that I was my company, that I didn’t need anyone but myself. In this self-centered belief, I never learned to trust anyone.  I wasn’t able to trust my employees to do their job.  I had this belief that they were just puppets that needed to be told what to do.”  

So captured by this rare insight, Dick watches as a flicker of disgust crosses Luthor’s face, “My father and his company were the only example I had of running a company.  My father always depicted himself as this lone wolf carrying all the weight of his company on his shoulders.  I thought that’s how businesses were run.  I thought that’s how people worked.”

With that, Luthor turns his attention back to eating his breakfast.  Seeming the end of the conversation, Dick frowns at the indications.  Smushing even more of his eggs around his plate, “You think I’m lone wolfing this?” 

Luthor looks up with a look of inquiry, “Aren’t you?  It’s four in the morning and you are trying to fix multiple problems all at once by yourself?”

Realizing that was exactly what he was doing, Dick gives Luthor a sheepish look.  Luthor nods softly, “The thing is, Richard, lone wolves rarely exist in the real world.  And they are not strong, independent creatures.  Lone wolves are the weak leftovers of a wolf pack, either too weak, too sick, or too aggressive for the pack to want.  But they do exist.  My father was one.  It took me way too long to see that my father wasn’t strong.  He wasn’t independent.  My father was just vicious.  An aggressive wolf that bit and barked and snarled to keep cowed sheep in line.  And I had to learn that is not how a business should be run.”

Dick was unable to stop the question from spilling from his lips, “How did you learn that?” 

A pained look flashed across Luthor’s face before his face went blank, “The night of LexCorp's one year anniversary party, one of my engineers came up to me and told me that if I didn’t stop my micromanaging and learn to trust my people, they were all going to start a strike.” 

Imagining this man, who is so focused on his image, having to deal with his employees striking during a gala causes Dick’s chest to seize.  Asking in almost a wheeze, ”What did you do?”  

Luthor sighs softly, ”It was a painful hit to my pride.  But in that moment I learned that the loss of pride bowing to an experienced employee was definitely easier to deal with than the shame of having the whole world see my company strike.”  

Dick frowns, “And just like that, you got better?” 

Luthor shakes his head softly, “No, far from it.  It took me a while to learn to trust my people to do their jobs. However, trust works both ways.  Every day since then, I have had to fight tooth and nail to earn and keep my workers’ trust.  I have to constantly show them that I am not an overbearing overlord and that they can tell me hard truths without retaliation.”

The words cause Dick to flinch, catching Luthor’s attention.  He casually sits up straighter, “I have a feeling that hit a cord with that HR issue you mentioned?” 

Feeling like he was caught in a trap, Dick jerks up, “Wait, was all that just a fishing ploy to get me to talk about Wayne Enterprises?!” 

Seemingly amused by the accusation, Luthor smiles, “On the contrary, all that I said was true.  In fact, that same engineer is now on my board of directors.”

Trying to review the past conversation, as well as trying to decide if he wants to talk about work with Luthor, Dick takes a sip of coffee. Finally coming to a decision, he glares over the cup at Luthor and starts talking, though it comes out as a mumble. 

Luthor raises his eyebrow at the inaudible words, “If you are going to be childish about this, we can go to awkward silence if you prefer.” 

Sighing deeply through his nose, Dick speaks up louder, “There are rumors that some of our women employees are being sexually harassed by someone in the company.”

All the softness on Luthor’s face vanishes as Luthor the Corporate Man takes over; his face turned stern and an angry glint enters his eyes, “Rumors?”

Seeing the drastic change and knowing he is about to have a very serious conversation with Luthor, Dick nods, “No one has officially said anything, but there’s enough rumors going around that we can’t just sit on it.  But no one is talking.” 

A grim, condescending smirk crosses Luthor’s face, “So Wayne Enterprises has a bad image for women.  I wonder where it got that from.”

Even knowing that Luthor was referring to Brucie Wayne, and not Bruce, Dick still finds it hard not to take the bait.  Taking a slow sip of coffee, Dick tries to consider his response.  “Well, you are not wrong….  I mean, how are you getting all the women?”  As his own words register, Dick cringes at Luthor’s responding smirk.  In a fiery retort, Dick tries to cover up his mistake,  “That is not what I meant!  I meant hiring!  WE and LexCorp hire from the same candidate pool, and yet all the women seem to choose LexCorp over WE.  Why the fuck is that?”

Looking like a cat that got the cream, Luthor’s smile is sickeningly sweet, “I offer my employees the best coffee in the world.” 

Now seeing that he was playing a very complicated game of social chess with Luthor, Dick forces himself to stay on target instead of haggle the response.  “Seriously Luthor.  31% percent of LexCorp’s employees are women.  For a company heavily focused on technology and science, those are phenomenal numbers!  That’s one of the reasons HR is on a warpath; Wayne Enterprises isn’t even at the 20% hiring expectations for the industry.” 

An almost casual look settles on Luthor’s face as he takes a sip of coffee.  Even after he finishes, he gives no indication that he was going to respond.  Frustrated by how this conversation is going, Dick flounders, ‘Oh come on.  I’m actually asking for advice here.”  Trying his tried and true ‘puppy eyes’ does little to move Luthor to respond.  “Please?” 

Politely wiping his mouth with his napkin, Luthor motions to Dick’s laptop.  “Search for images of Bruce Wayne.”

As the images start to load, Dick turns to Luthor, “What am I looking for?” 

Luthor tilts his head as if curious, “What do you see?” 

Dick looks at the loaded images before quickly turning the laptop to Luthor to see, “I see a gazillion pics of you two kissing at the Christmas gala?” 

Luthor freezes for a second before slowly breathing through his nose.  He sits up straighter and cracks his neck to the side, “That does ruin the example.  Please filter the search for images before the Christmas Gala.  Also remove professional shoots and tabloids.” 

Pulling his laptop back in front of him, Dick does quick work and once the searches update, he nods at Luthor.  “What do you see?” 

Dick takes a quick look, “Most of them are at galas and charities.  He’s wearing his Draffettes.  He’s surrounded by rich people, fancy cocktail dresses and tuxedos.” 

Luthor nods, “Those are Brucie’s favorite scenes.  Now search Lex Luthor, what do you see?”

As the images load, Dick frowns.  “Wow.  You are in court a lot.” 

Luthor nods, “I average about 50 lawsuits a year.  I am a busy man enough as it is.  Do you know how many LexCorp HR lawsuits I actually let go to court?”  Dick tries to think of any past LexCorp lawsuits he would know of, however, he’s unable to think of any other than the few that ended up on the Justice League’s radar because they were related to world important matters.  

Not wanting to let in on how little he actually knew about the man’s lawsuits, Dick gives a guess, “A lot?” 

Luthor’s smirk gives away that he knew that Dick was only guessing.  “Are you sure about that, Richard? I’m Lex Luthor, the one-man army, business man.  Why would I personally go to court for an HR dispute?” 

Dick’s confused face causes Luthor to give a too-innocent smile in return.  He points to the laptop and orders , “Search for Henry Jackson plus LexCorp.”

As the name sounded vaguely familiar to Dick, he punches it into his search engine.  Multiple news articles pop up, but it's the court room images that catch his attention.  On the defendant’s side is a man that is apparently Henry Jackson and his lawyer. On the plaintiff’s side is Lex Luthor's own personal lawyer Jennifer Rivers and two petite young women who have their heads down, looking small and skittish.  As a superhero that has helped and saved many people from many types of situations, he can tell that these two women are the victims in this case, and that they are terrified to be there. But what surprises Dick the most is that Lex Luthor standing strong and defiant next to these women while also subtly positioning himself in just a way that he's blocking the line of sight between the women and the defendant in an almost protective stance.

Turning his attention back to the news articles, four titles stand out:

LexCorp sues own Branch Manager Henry Jackson for sexual harassment charges!

Neither witnesses testify, Henry Jackson walks free!

LexCorp fires Branch Manager Henry Jackson for conflict of interests!

Yacht sunk in Metropolis Bay!  Owner Henry Jackson missing!

Not sure if the last article had anything to do with the first three, but seeing that there was so little time between the articles, Dick looked up at Luthor suspiciously.  Luthor looks back unphased by the glare.  Seeing the man give no reaction at all, Dick tried to process the information.  “You…  Did you…?”

Luthor gives an straightforward, sincere look, “I stood by my employees in their pursuit of justice and made sure they had the best weapons available to win.” 

Dick frowns, “But they didn’t testify.” 

Luthor nodded somberly, “And that is their right.” 

Not liking Luthor’s sincere attitude about this, Dick asked in a deadpan voice, “Then what did you do?”

Luthor gives Dick a inquisitive look before raising his hand in a placating stop motion.  “Let us get back to the point before you start to accuse me of things you can not prove.” 

Dick frowns but mulishly concedes, “What is the point then?” 

Luthor gives a confident smile, “The point is I represent and protect my employees, and I have their best interests in mind.  And not just my employees.  I offer this to anyone who asks.”

Not liking the grin nor the slightly possessive tone Luthor had, Dick warily asks, “Do I want to know where this is going?” 

Luthor shrugs nonchalantly, “Depends on if Jackson was enough of an example.  If not, than I would consider looking up the Starford and Silvermesh companies.” With that Luthor starts eating once more.  Seeing Luthor so indifferent on the matter, Dick quickly punches Starford into his search engine.  

More images of Luthor in court, this time a young man at his side.  Multiple articles show up in a timeline.

LexCorp Intern Will Rollins sues rival company Starford’s Gloria Nottington for Sexual Assault!

Starford’s Gloria Nottington counter-sues LexCorp Intern Will Rollins for Physical Assault and Slander!

Starford’s Gloria Nottington breaks into tears on stand, unable to continue due to distress!

Starford’s Gloria Nottington caught on tape gloating, “Of course I’ll win.  Did you see those tears?  They always choose the woman’s side.”

LexCorp slams Starford with counter lawsuits!  Starford’s stocks hit rock bottom! X2

LexCorp purchases floundering Starford. Converts all Starford buildings into shelters for victims of assault!

With results less shady than a drowned yacht and a missing man, and now curious about such a philanthropist act as making victim shelters, Dick searches for Silvermesh next.  This time, there are no images of Luthor in court, but multiple articles stand out with the name LexCorp.

LexCorp shows interest in Karen Quentin’s synthetics company Silvermesh! Purchase eminent?

LexCorp reports Silvermesh to OSHA for hazardous work conditions!

Karen Quentin acquitted from OSHA lawsuit due to witnesses refusing to testify: Coercion?!

Silvermesh lab explosion!  Only casualty EP Karen Quentin.

LexCorp purchases Silvermesh after ownership dispute settled out of court!

Dick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he processes the information.  “Okay, let's....   Let’s get back to the start of this conversation. You are in court a lot.  You fight for your people….  Even if you don’t own them yet….  Whether or not you play dirty is up for debate.  And this is important to LexCorp’s image...”

Luthor finishes his last bite and puts his fork down, “Yes.  The image is ‘Lexcorp employees deserve respect’.  My image is ‘LexCorp will keep you safe.’  And it doesn’t matter who you are, I will do everything necessary to prove it.” 

Wanting to drill the man on the ‘coincidences’ of missing people and lab explosions but feeling like that would just be another trap, Dick double backs on the original topic, “So, overlooking the murderous undertones that that implies, let’s stay on track.  You are willing to take any HR matter to court.  But you can only go to court if someone speaks up.  What about those that don’t?  How do you get one of your employees to come forward?”

Luthor sighs and it almost seems like he deflates; Luthor the Corporate Man fades away, leaving a softer, more contemplative looking man in his stead.  “There is a lot you can do to empower your employees.  Trust them.  Respect them.  Give them seminars and empowerment classes.  You can even give them self defense classes.  But there’s always going to be those that don’t have the strength to stand up to all the issues these types of jobs bear.   To stand up and say, ‘You are wrong.  I will not be treated this way.  I deserve to be here.  I deserve to be respected.’  

“When they do not have the voice to speak does not mean that you do not hear them.  But listening is never enough.  As for your particular issue, it gets even more challenging.  When it comes to this type of secondhand accusations, where you have multiple claims but no victims:  Could be just the rumor mill, could be a whisper campaign, or it could be someone up the power tree that people are afraid to report due to retaliation.  I personally would bet good money that you have a sexual predator in your boardroom.”

The open, bold accusation feels like a physical slap to Dick’s face, “What?! You don’t even know our board members!” 

A sly smile spreads across Luthor’s face as he pulls out his phone and starts texting, “Don’t I?  Isn’t Walters originally from Metropolis?  And I’ve seen Hennington at a gala or two.  And isn’t it Peters that broke his hand at the Children’s Hope Charity?”  Seeing Dick’s surprised look, Luthor puts his phone away and continues. 

“It doesn’t matter the cause, you need to start taking severe measures.  If they are just rumors, you need to break up your rumor mill.  If it’s a whisper campaign, that means someone will be benefiting from these allegations.  If it's a board member, you need to find proof.  And if you can’t find the proof, you need to make it.”

Dick snorts at the claim, “Make it?  What?  Do a honey pot sting operation on our board members?” The almost innocent look on Luthor’s face makes Dick sputter, “But that’s entrapment!” 

Luthor seems un-bothered by the outburst, “Which is not illegal.  But if you are on such a moral high ground, I’m sure you can just wait for another employee to get harrassed?  I’m sure that someone will eventually come forward.”

Luthor stands up, picking up the dishes and taking them over to the sink.  “Richard, your employees deserve respect and you need to keep them safe. And you need to do everything necessary to do that.” As the sound of Luthor washing dishes fills the room, Dick loses himself in thought as he possesses the suggestions that Luthor gave him. 

As Luthor finishes up the dishes, a thought stands out to Dick, causing him to ask, “What would your father have done?”

Luthor turns around, wiping his hands on a dish towel, “What he has always done.  Pay them hush money with a not-so-vague threat and then hire a new secretary.” 

As the implication registers, Dick feels a sense of dread fill him, “..Oh…” 

Luthor gives a grim look, “Disappointing isn’t it.  It was for me as well when I found out the truth of why he went through so many secretaries.” A soft, contemplative look crosses his face as he continues in a softer tone,  “The pedestals we put our fathers on seem to make them such perfect people.  It just takes one too many trust issues for that image to be pushed over the edge, for it to fall and break and show their shattered flaws." The somber tone changes as Luthor grins at Dick, "But my father’s first flaw was shown to me by a mean right hook from a disgruntled secretary.”  

Dick perks up in surprise, “Wait, one of them punched him?!” 

Luthor gives a knowing smile, “Yes.  Maria Rodiala.  Only woman I’ve known that was willing to go toe to toe with my father.” 

Dick shares the grin, “Damn.  I’d like to meet that lady.” 

Luthor’s phone pings.  As he pulls it out and checks it, he mummers softly, “You just might.”

Dick frowns, “What?” 

Luthor looks up from his phone with a smirk, “She’s now my HR manager.”  Before Dick can reply, Luthor walks over to the table,  “My ride has arrived. I do wish you well on your new work endeavors Richard.  Do let me know how it goes.”  With that, he offers his hand to Dick.

Confused, Dick awkwardly shakes Luthor’s hand, “I will.  Thanks for… whatever this was?” 

Luthor gives a soft guffaw, “You are welcome.”  He pauses and a soft look crosses his face, “Richard, one last word of advice.” 

Realizing that he was being silently asked permission to continue, Dick fumbles, “Yeah?” 

Luthor looks off to the side, almost lost in thought.  “Asking my father for help was always a last resort.  It would be admitting a weakness and I knew that he would ridicule me for being anything less than perfect.  My father was a mean, vicious old man that found pleasure from demeaning others’ weaknesses.”  

As he looks back at Dick, a small, kind smile appears on his face, “While I have very little examples of how Bruce interacts with you children, I’ve seen multiple times where Batman has dropped everything at the hint of trouble to come to anyone’s aid, especifically his sidekicks.  I would bet good money that if you asked him for help, Bruce would do everything to help you without the ridicule or anger that I had to deal with from my father.  However, if you wait too long to ask, I do know that Bruce will be disappointed you didn’t trust him enough to help.”

Seeing the truth in Luthor's words, Dick sighs, “You’re right.  I know you’re right.  It’s just….” 

As his sentence falls off, Luthor gently places his hand on Dick’s shoulder, “No one is perfect Richard.  Do not hold yourself to impossible standards or you will drive yourself crazy. Trust me, I know this from far too many years of experience. It’s okay to ask for help.”  With that, he straightened up and stepped away.  

“I am leaving now.  Please give my gratitude and regards to Bruce and Alfred.” 

Dick watches Luthor as he leaves, softly mumbling a “Yeah, sure.” 

As steps echo to the front door, a voice carries back into the kitchen, “Talk to your father Richard.”  Dick waits for the front door to shut before letting out a deep sigh.  

In the silence of the early morning, Dick turns back to his computer.  However, he is unable to focus on work as his mind is in a whirl processing the conversations he just had with Luthor.  

Having most of his experiences with Luthor as Luthor the Villian made it almost disappointing to think that Luthor was once a kid.  Just some kid raised by a harsh-handed father.  With how Luthor depicted his father, he painted him as a monster more than a man.  And having that reference, Dick’s mind keeps jumping to Luthor’s stark comparison between his own father and Bruce.   

Out of everything they talked about, what caught Dick’s attention the most was Luthor's belief on how Bruce would respond to Dick’s 'shortcomings'.  Dick would have assumed that Luthor would have much more hard-edged opinions on anyone’s fathering abilities, not this blind faith that Bruce would be fair.  That he would be kind.  That he would be a good father.  How could someone so jaded with his own father have that much trust in another?

Still trying to wrap his mind around Luthor and his father, Dick gingerly punches in a search for Lionel Luthor.  As he reads the top article, Luthor’s words echo in his head as Dick’s heart stops.  “It just takes one too many trust issues for that image to be pushed over the edge, for it to fall and break and show their shattered flaws.”

Lionel Luthor, owner of LuthorCorp, fell to his death from 40th floor office. Son Lex Luthor only witness to tragic fall!

Notes:

Hey y'all! Still working on this! Exciting!

I was really indecisive on if these chapters involving Lex and the kids should be their own story, but I've decide to keep them all together! Hopefully they aren't too different in feel! #LionelLutherIsEvil

Please let me know what you think! Also, I kinda suck a tags, so definitely would appreciate some suggestions!

Chapter 7: The Tailor

Summary:

Breakfast and Brandy do mix!

Lex Luthor has a morning routine; one that hasn’t changed in many years.  This routine consisted of waking up before sunrise, a cardio focused workout then showering.  Followed by eating a protein-enriched breakfast at the kitchen island while reading up on current projects or any research or studies of personal interest.  This morning’s routine remains unbroken as Mercy joins him in the kitchen as the sun rises through the wall of glass, bathing his expansive living room with golden light and a beautiful view of Metropolis.

“Hey boss.  Learn anything new today?”  

Without looking up from his textbook, Lex takes a sip of orange juice.  “Yes, I should probably order another MRI scan.”  

Mercy tuts, “If I knew all this studying was going to make you so paranoid, I would have stopped you.”  Lex looks up the textbook at Mercy and raises an eyebrow.  She crosses her arms as she leans back against a kitchen counter, “I mean it, I would have.”  

Lex gives a smirk, “I can not think of a single time you have been able to stop me from doing something I want to.” 

She glares at him, “Yeah, and that's why you are constantly racking up 'I Did Something Dumb Again' points. And I'm about to start adding points for this study shit.  How do I know you aren’t working yourself into a tizzy.  I’m sure you don’t have a..”  She walks around him and peers over his shoulder to read,  “A brain aneurysm, a tumor, had a stroke, or..  What the hell is hydrocephalus?”  

Lex casually turns the page as he continues to read, his voice clinical, “Build up of spinal fluid in the brain.”  

Mercy snorts in disbelief, “Yeah, that too.  You’re fine.”  

Lex goes back to his reading, though his voice gains a know-it-all tone, “You can never be too careful about your health Mercy.”  

Mercy shakes her head and pats his shoulder as she walks away, “Now you are just messing with me.”  Lex gives a fond huff but continues reading.  

As Mercy goes about the kitchen making her own breakfast, the morning continues in its usual affair, Mercy filling the soft silence, “Maria called, said the interview has been offered.  She expects no issues with Sasha’s hiring process.”

Lex nods, “Good, make sure she has everything she needs until this gets resolved.”  

Mercy opens the fridge, “Already on it. ... Lex, why is there a sealed carboy of questionable substance in the fridge?”  

In a completely deadpan voice, “I ran out of room in the lab fridge.”  

Having grabbed the glass liter out of the fridge, Mercy cringes before glaring at Lex, “Lex, seriously?  Gross.  Do I need me to order another fridge so that we don’t die of food poisoning?” 

“No.  It’s harmless hopped wort.”  

Holding the liter at arm’s length to look at the brown liquid and the little green flower buds floating in it, Mercy frowns, “Hopped? Wait, is this beer?”  Pulling the liter to her chest with a look of disgusted interest, “Are you making beer?”  

Lex finally looks up from his book and gives her a disinterested look.  “That is not beer.  It has potential to be beer."  

Mercy glares at him, "You are potentially making beer?  Is this a mid life crisis, or a," Her voice drops low and gains a serious tone, “To make an apple pie, you must first make the universe.”

Lex gives her an unamused smirk at her mimicry, “Wayne Enterprises has vowed to revitalize the soda industry to lower their packaging pollution.  Then Wayne had the audacity to call me out.  While I do not like to be baited by his challenges, I do see the publicity benefit to engage in this one.  As such, I am looking at other pollution heavy industries, specifically the alcohol industry.  And you know the rules.”

“If you want to fix an industry’s problems, you must first understand the industry.”  Mercy looks at the liquid with muddled respect before gently putting the carboy back in the fridge, “Hopefully, one of your more tasty adventures.  Let me know when this is drinkable.”  

Lex nods seriously, “I am always willing to share my scientific discoveries with you.”  

Mercy smiles as she starts pulling ingredients out for breakfast, “Careful Lex, your nerd is showing.”  

Silence falls again, the same peaceful comradery filling the air.  Only once Mercy is done cooking her breakfast and starts to plate it does she pause.  In a forced nonchalant voice she asks,  “Boss, did you actually want an MRI?  I can schedule one.”  

Lex snorts, “It was an attempt at a joke. No,  I don't need an MRI.” 

Mercy nods continues with her platting, her voice full of forced nonchalance,  “Good… good.”

The silence now feels a little tense.  Lex looks up at her with a raised eyebrow, "Now who’s paranoid?”  

Right before she can answer, Lex’s phone gives a soft ting, the sound of a service bell.  Both freeze and frown at the phone.  The phone gives the soft ting again, indicating a phone call.

Lex Luthor is a man that does not suffer a fool.  With his excessive money and his massive presence in the advanced industry of technology, Lex has made sure that very few people have access to his personal phone, and even fewer that would actually call unless of a dire emergency.  To add to that, the ring tone is one that neither Lex nor Mercy recognise.

Looking at Mercy with a sharp frown Lex picks up the phone and checks the name.  The name Alfie flashes across the screen, causing Lex to release his held breath as he realizes who is calling, and why the number is saved in his phone.  Waving Mercy off, seeing her slowly relax her stiff posture, Lex answers the phone with a firm, but neutral, “Yes?”  

Alfred’s crisp British voice answers, “Good morning Mister Luthor.  Alfred Pennyworth, at your service.”    

Lex sighs through his nose, “Good morning Alfred.  How may I help you?”  

Wasting no time, Alfred responds, “Sir, this is a reminder that this Friday will be your appointment with Mister Drafette.  The scheduled time is at 09:00 sharp.”

Wanting to be agitated by what almost seems an invasion of privacy, but the sharp, professional behavior of Alfred takes the sting away, Lex is unable to stop a soft smile, “Thank you Alfred.  I will be there.”  

He can hear a soft rustle through the line, “Very good sir.  I look forward to seeing you there.”  

Confused by that, but before he can question it, the call ends.  Luthor looks at his phone for a second as he processes the information, before he quickly renames the contact name from Alfie to Pennyworth.

“Boss?”  

Lex looks at Mercy and sees a curious, cautious look on her face.  “Just an appointment reminder.  Nothing to worry about.” 

---

Having dealt with many a fussy tailor, Lex made sure to arrive early that Friday morning.  With a briefcase in hand and Mercy in tow, Lex enters the Silver Snitch.  Walking into the small, quaint front room, Lex sees Alfred standing near the front desk.  Walking up to him, Lex offers his hand, “Good Morning Alfred.”  

Alfred gives him a polite smile as he returns the hand shake, “Mister Luthor.  I do hope you do not mind my presence, however, while Master Wayne was willing to let you have his appointment with Mister Drafette, he was unable to convince Drafette’s assistance to transfer over the appointment.  My presence will hopefully rectify the issue for you and I will be on my way.”

Lex nods in thanks, “I appreciate you handling this matter Alfred.”  

Alfred returns to his stance, a soften replica of a military rest, “Of course sir.  I’m sure Drafette will be out here shortly.”  

Before he even finished his sentence, a rustle of fabric was heard in the back before the sounds of heels.  With a flourish, the curtains part and master Louiee Drafette walks out.  “Alfred darling!”  Walking up to the older man to greet him by grasping his arms gently,  “It is so good to see you again!  And where is Brucie?  Is he running late again?”

Alfred takes a step back and makes a gentle motion to Lex.  Only now realising that there was another person in the room, Drafette turns around and gasps at Lex.  “Good heavens!  The daft boy meant it!”  

Both Alfred and Lex pause at the exclamation.  Alfred raises his eyebrow, “My pardon, sir?”  

Drafette waves his hand at Alfred without taking his eyes off Lex.  “Leon told me that Brucie wanted to transfer his appointment.  It was so preposterous, I instantly assumed it was a prank call or something!”
 
Lex tilts his head slightly, “Will that be a problem, Mister Drafette?”  

Drafette places a hand over his heart as he smiles, “Of course not honey!  I’m always thrilled for new customers.”  Turning his head to Alfred and stage whispers behind his hand, “And when I say new, I mean, not old fuddy duddies that book up my whole schedule and want frumpy potato sacks instead of a form fitting suit.”  Turning back to Lex, Drafette sashays over to him, “So, trust me darling, you are welcome here.  Let's get a look at you!  Do I have permission to touch?”

Lex nods at the request, “I do believe it is in your profession to be handsy.  Be my guest.”  

Drafette looks back at Alfred with a pleased smile and a playful roll of his eyes, waving his hand like a fan at his face, “Oh dear, with permission like that!”  He giggles before grabbing Lex's chin, turning his head back and forth.  “My, what a good looking warm spring we have here.”  His hands move down to his shoulders, and his eyes wander further down, “Hmm, firm shoulders, that waist.  You sir are making it far too easy to envision you in my handiwork.  Come, we must start putting a color palette together for you immediately.  Come this way!”

Drafette hooks his arm through Lex's and starts to walk to the back with Lex in tow.  Alfred clears his throat, “Now that everything is resolved, I will take my leave.”  

A devastating look crosses Drafette’s face, “What?!  No darling!   You aren’t staying? I have to wait a whole another month before we can gossip?”  

A slight grimace crosses Alfred’s face, “Actually, Mister Luthor is also taking Wayne’s March slot.”  

Draffette puts his hand on his face aghast, “Two months?!”  He then makes grabbing motions at Alfred with his free hand,  “No, Alfred, you must stay.  Gossip with me.  Help me choose Luthor’s color palette.  I’ll even break out the brandy.”

A small smirk flickers over Alfred’s face before he looks mildly condescending, “Brandy, so early?  Quite scandalous.”  

Drafette pouts and bats his eyelashes at him, "Like we haven't done worse.  Pretty please?"  

Alfred looks at Lex, but seems unable to decipher his option on the matter.  "I would hate to interfere with Mister Luthor's first Drafette appointment."  

Drafette turns to Lex, his voice taking a pleading quality, "Oh, you wouldn’t mind, would you?"  

Lex takes in both the men; while Drafatte’s distraught is easy to read, the only tell of Alfred’s interest in his response is his stiff posture.  Not seeing any harm in the matter, Lex consents, “As long as I am also allowed to partake in the brandy, I see no issue with Alfred staying.”

Joy blossoms over Drafette’s face as he pats Lex on the chest, “Marvelous! I just know we are going to get along.  Right this way!”  

Drafette leads Lex into the back room, a round room with a platform in the middle surrounded by a couch and two chairs.  The walls of the room had deep shelves built in recess, holding hundreds of spoils of fabric.  Mercy follows in behind them, moving quickly to search the two other doors in the room that turn out to lead into further storage and a sewing room with a very startled apprentice.  Drafette and Alfred seem very indifferent to Mercy’s search, just patiently waiting for her to give the signal that the rooms were cleared.  Once cleared, Drafette motions Lex towards the shelves, “Go ahead and look around.  Everyone always does.  Alfred, to the swatches!”  Drafette lets go of Lex's arm and grabs Alfred’s, leading over to a wall covered in hundreds of swatches of colored fabrics.  

Luthor does as commanded, but makes a statement with a voice of steel, “I refuse to wear pastels and browns.”  

Drafette turns to him and gasps, “How dare you sir!”  The surprise morphs into a gleeful smile as he swats his hand at Luthor, “I always love a challenge!”

Keeping his hands behind his back, Luthor starts wandering around the round room, casually looking at all the spools of fabric with disinterest.  The two men start talking quietly behind him.  Though he doesn’t listen intently, he is satisfied to hear they are adhering to his traditional black suit look, though the colors of shirts and ties seem to be in debate.

Slowly circling the room, as he finally gets to the swatch wall, Lex hears an scandalous gasp and Drafette stage whispers to Alfred, “And he hasn’t pawed at the fabric like a fiend.”  Drafette then turns to Lex and motions him closer though his hands are full of swatches, “Doll, you are a keeper. Come here!”

Once close enough, Drafette starts laying the swatches across Lex's shoulder and chest; quite a few reds and greens, a handful of golds and silvers.  However, the last two Drafette lay down are a pink and a brown, causing Lex to frown and raise an eyebrow.  Seeing his expression, Drafette scoffs, “Don’t you judge me mister, I said I like a challenge.  And that challenge is to adhere to your request to a point, and then make you change your silly silly ways!”  Emphasizing the statement with a playful swat.    

Luthor opens his mouth to dispute it, but Drafette carries on.  “But don’t you worry about that for now darling, because before we get too crazy with our color choices, I need to know what events you are planning for your spring collection. Cause if you are planning a lot of political parties, I definitely don’t want you clashing with all their silly balloons; hence the brown, how dare you judge her like that!  But if you are planning to take strolls in the forest; first off, rude, my suits desire so much better than that! I don’t want you blending into the background like a wall forest flower.”

Deciding to let the color choices go for now, Lex accepts the topic change, “Before I continue, I would like to have guarantees that what I say here doesn’t leave this room.”  

Drafette presses a finger to his jaw as he gives a pout, “Honey, if you want shush shush, I can be shush shush.  But if you prefer a more formal agreement than that, I’d assume you brought some pretty little NDA paperwork for me to sign?”  

Luthor tilts his head, "I did have something written up, but I do not think it would be necessary.  A tailor is only as good as his word.  The request was for Mister Pennyworth.”  

Drafette gasps in glee as he looks for Alfred.  “Alfred!  You little gossipy bitch!”  

Alfred gives a disappointed look at Drafette’s language but turns to Lex, “May I ask why me specifically?”  

Luthor is straight to the point, "Bruce and I tend to go after the same things.  I refuse to give him information any sooner than I have to.”

Alfred gives a sly smile and nods his head in respect, “I do understand Mister Luthor. If you are amendable, I will step into the lobby until you have conveyed said information.”  With Lex's nodded consent, Alfred leaves the room.  

As he walks out, Drafette picks the swatches off of Lex.  Once Alfred is gone, Drafette turns to Lex with excitement.  “So spill!” 

Lex props his briefcase up on the desk next to the swatch wall.  “The next few months, I plan to purchase multiple medtech companies in the Mid and North West.  As such I need suits for extensive publicity photoshoots.”  

Drafette’s excitement wanes, “Midwest, boring.  They have the worst weather.” 

Lex gives a non-humorous smile, “Indeed, all the forecasted weather predictions say it will be a wet and snowy spring.”  

Drafette’s eyes widened in surprise as he bats at Luthor.  “Oh, look at you honey, researching your shoots’ weather.  So, tell me about these little cute companies you are buying.”

Lex nods as he opens his briefcase, “All the companies are newly constructed, high modern design.  Most have very dominant black, white, and silver backgrounds.”  He starts pulling out pictures of said companies and their interiors.  Motioning to a few specific pictures that bright colors clash against the plain, sterile look the rest of the pictures have, “It is expected that the finale photos will be done in the companies’ lobbies.  As you can see here, most of these companies’ entries and lobbies have some form of art or murals that they like to showcase.”  

Drafette’s face morphs into true elation as he grasps his hand over his chest. “Be still my beating heart.”  He points to Lex, “You, sir, are too much!”  He then grabs the photos and starts fluttering through them, comparing his swatches to certain images.  A few swatches return to the wall, but the rest are slowly stacked into a pile on the desk.  The last two are the pink and brown.  Drafette puts the photos down, two specific ones on top, side by side.  He then grabs the pink and presents it to Luthor with both top corners pinched tawt between his hands.  

“Now, I know you said no to the pink and brown, but princess peach here would match this mural so well.  And chocolate sin would just help you mellow out all these crazy colors.  Come on, what do you say? Please?”  Drafette wiggles the swatch in front of Lex.  Refusing to answer to the plea, Luthor gives him a defiant look as he raises an eyebrow.  Slowly Drafette deflates before he finally gives a tsk, “Fine…”  

He turns to the board to put the colors back, but then whips around just as quickly as if he was revealing a secret.  “Or! I could just make you a pink and brown shirt for free!  I refuse to let you turn down a free gift from me!”

Not wanting to show his amusement at such a flashy affair, Lex still gives a knowing smirk.   Drafette just waves his hand as he drops the two swatches on the pile with the others, “What, you can’t control me!  Now put those pictures away so we can get Alfred back in here.”  Lex motions to Mercy to retrieve Alfred as he puts the photos back in his briefcase.

As Alfred comes back in, Drafette instantly starts gushing at him, “Alfred!!  He had purpose!  He had photos!  He even had weather predictions!  Alfred, adopt this man at once!  He’s perfect!  This is the dedication my suits desire!  Get out the brandy!”  Drafette then turns back to Lex, “And you.  I would say that you are in for a treat, getting to wear my work for the first time!  But I know for a fact that you have already worn one of my suits before.”  He gives Lex a shooing motion, “On the platform honey, it’s time to get those digits.”

As he walks to the platform, Luthor unbuttons his jacket and places it on one of the chairs.  Stepping up, Drafette instantly wraps his measure tape around his neck and starts taking his measurements.  “And how would you know I’ve worn a Drafette before?”

Finishing noting his neck size on a small notepad, Drafette wraps his arms around Luthor to get his chest measurement, “Don’t think for a minute that I didn’t notice you wearing Wayne’s crystal christmas red shirt and tie at that press conference. Which looked better on you then him, let me tell you.  Can we gossip about that please!!”

As Drafette moves to his arms, Lex considers his answer.  Deciding to be truthful, “I had spilled coffee on my shirt and tie. Bruce had generously offered his in exchange.”  

Drafette looks at him over his sleeve measurement, “He did?!”  He turns to Alfred who has placed three cups of brandy on the couch’s side table.  “Alfred, you are finally rubbing off on the man.  Bruce has become a gentle man!”  

Lex smirks, “It was in that moment, wearing such a fine piece of vestment, that I decided that I needed my own Drafette.”  

Drafette makes another note before looking at Lex in assessment, his voicing knowing,  “Brucie somehow does you a favor, and yet you end up with one of his Drafette spots!  You really must be a silver tongue devil.”  He waggles his eyebrows at Lex, “Brucie might be a party putz, that man shows up religiously to his appointments.  He once came in a cast, thinking I would just use last month’s measurements.  Daft man!  Don't reckon my ears can hear those sweet lies you told to get this appointment?”

As Drafette gets down to do an outseam measurement, Lex gives him a sly smile, “That will be a secret untold.”  

Drafette switches to an inseam, “Fine, keep your secrets.  But I do have a question.”  He looks up at Lex and flutters his eyelashes, “If you’ve been in Brucie’s shirt, have you been in his pants?” 

Lex stills, trying not to physically response to the question.  However, Drafette's smile turns giddy, “Oh my, you blush as pretty as a debutante!  You were right!  The pinks got to go!”  Drafette jumps up and off the platform, heading to the table.  He grabs the pink swatch and puts it back onto the board.  “Princess Peach, how could you betray me like that!”    

He then grabs another, a coral swatch,  “How about candy grapefruit.  Maybe he'll do better.” Drafette brings it over and lays it on Lex's chest.   “He’s bold but not too bold, he’s so yummy on you!  Oh, he just looks so good, you can’t say no.  I can’t.  In you go, baby swatch!”  Instead of walking the swatch over to the pile, Drafette just throws it; the swatch falling on top of the pile with surprising accuracy.

Turning back to Lex, Drafette looks him over.  “Alright, we got color, we got size.  Let’s talk fabric and cut!  I assume that you got your preferences?”  

Putting his jacket back on, Lex nods, “I do, but I would hate to ask a potato sack from you.  I will rely on your expertise on this matter.”  

A high pitched squeal is his answer, Drafete gushes, “We are married now!  Your words are the vows of the tailor!  Giving me free reign!  Ahh!  I can’t even!”  He cocks his head to the side, yelling at the side door, “Leon! Get the templates!”

Snapping his head back to Lex, “That said, I still want to make you feel comfortable in my suits, so how about we talk about what I’ve seen you wearing in the past and get a feel for it?”  

Satisfied with the suggestion, Lex nods, “Be my guest.”  

Drafette walks up and grabs one of his hands and rubs it between his, “Well, dove, your hands are freezing, and I once saw you wearing a wool suit in June, so I’m assuming you are always running cold.  I’ve also noticed that you only wear natural fabrics, so even though your skin isn’t dry, it must be sensitive.”

Drafette drops his hand and places his hands on each of Lex's shoulders as he continues his evaluation, “You like your suits with sharp lines, and if I didn’t see these shoulders for myself I would have thought your suits had padding.  Good grief, are these shoulders sin-full.  Seriously, I’ve seen you in many suits and none of them do you justice.  And it’s these wonderful, wonderful shoulders' faults.  Big shoulders, teeny weeny waist.  You are one tasty dorito.”   

Drafette steps back and gives Lex a considering look, “So, you tend to wear British cut, which I know why your tailors do that.  It fits you and your look.  But honey I would love to see you in an Italian cut, cause honey you sexy slim.  But alas, since you like thick, black fabrics I just know an Italian will look wrong on you.  And you love to do the cuff pose, so you have to have your surgeon’s cuff.”  

Lex frowns and interrupts him, “Cuff pose?”  

Drafette looks up from eyeing Lex’s pants.  “The pose that looks like you are buttoning up your cuff.  It's the traditional, ‘I look good put together’ look.  Everyone does it.  The Rock does it all the time, there’s a meme of it.” 

Lex’s frown deepens, his voice dripping in contempt, “Meme?”  

Drafette waves him off and goes back to looking at Lex’s pants.  “Trust me honey. You do it just enough for me to notice, but not for you to be a meme.  You’re fine.  I endorse your cuff pose.” 

Luthor's frown doesn’t fall off, his voice gains a condescending note, “How reassuring.”

Drafette nods his head, either not noticing the tone or not caring, “It should be.  So, I’m leaning towards the British, though I might try and be crazy and get some extra slim zhuzh in there!”  After one more look, he nods, “Alright, I think I’m ready to start.”  He motions Lex to the couch, then points at a glass of brandy.  “Sit here! Drink this!  Me and Leon will whip up a prototype real quick for fitting purposes, then we can really dish.  We will be back soonish!”

And with twirl, Drafette leaves into the sewing room, shutting the door behind him.  Lex sits down and looks over at Alfred who had already sat himself in one of the chairs, glass of brandy in hand.  Lex takes his brandy and lifts it in a soft salute to Alfred before taking a drink.  After savoring the liquor, Lex tilts his head.  “He’s a character.”  

Alfred takes a small sip in kind before giving a soft smile, “Yes he is.  Might even be a required taste to some, Mister Luthor.”

A few seconds of silence fall between them before Alfred continues, “He seems quite fond of you already Mister Luthor.  I’m sure it would not take much for him to make room in his roster for you.” 

Lex smirks, "I’m sure.  But where would the fun be if I didn’t keep stealing Bruce’s.”  

Alfred keeps his face neutral, “My apologies, I had no intention of ruining your fun, Mister Luthor.”

They quietly settled into drinking their brandy, a comfortable silence settling between them.  Lex surveys the room again, taking in the deep mahogany and velvet furniture, the cold grey light fluttering in from one of the few windows.  The room looked well used, rich, and professional, causing memories to flicker across his mind, a frown playing across his face.

Lost in thought, he missed Alfred speaking.  Only when Alfred leaned forward does he slowly come back to himself.  “Mister Luthor, are you okay?” 

Lex looks up into the concerned eyes before slowly answering, “My apologies.  Lost in thought.”  

Alfred looks to where Lex was staring off into space.  “May I ask why that desk lamp had you so deep in thought?”  

Lex looks back at it in consideration.  Almost against his will, the answer falls freely from his lips.  “My father’s office had a lap just like that one.”  

A look of understanding crosses Alfred’s face as he leans back into his chair.  “Ah.  Do you have fond memories of your father’s office?”

Like the answer is ripped from Lex's lips, it comes out hard and brittle.  “No.  None at all.”  

Alfred’s lip tighten in a frown, “My apologies for bringing it up, Mister Luthor.”

Lex doesn’t notice as he continues to stare across the room, lost in memories and talking almost in a daze.  “Whenever I hear Mister Luthor, I always think of my father.”  

Seeing that Lex wasn’t going to continue talking, Alfred softly talks, “I do not know much about your father.” 

Lex frowns in thought, “He was not a good man.  He was a worse father.  Tainted everything he touches.  Even my name.”

Alfred frowns in consideration. Almost tentatively, he ask, “Have you considered changing it?  You did well by changing your company’s name.”  Lex finally breaks eye contact with the lamp and looks over at Alfred with consideration.  Alfred waits patiently for his reply.  

“I did consider it.  But I will never follow through with it.  Names have power.  When I renamed LuthorCorp to LexCorp, I didn’t want my success to be raised up or brought down by my father’s.  But in the end, everyone knew who I was.  I was Luthor’s kid.  People had expectations of me.  Some good.  Most bad. So I did what I could. Changing a company’s name can be considered a rebranding, but changing my own name?  That would just be having a temper tantrum.  You can never make that look good in the public’s eye.”

Lex stops for a second, then gives Alfred a bitter smile,  “I am proud to say that over the years I’ve made the name mine. Now when people hear Luthor, they will think of me.  I have the power to change the minds of millions of people, to have them acknowledge me; my good and my bad.  I have rebranded the Luthor name.”  Finishing the rest of his brandy like a shot, Lex looks away.  His voice has a sad, wishful tone and he tells the air, “But none of that changes the fact that when I hear Luthor, I think of him.”  

The silence weighs heavy in the air, as Alfred slowly finishes his drink.  Eventually Drafette comes back in with his arms full of cut canvas.  He bustles in, but stops when he notices the tension in the air.  He slowly walks over and in a muted, but kind tone, “Honey, up on the platform please.”  

The rest of the appointment keeps the same quiet attitude, Drafette quick, quiet and professional.  Once the templates are pinned to him and alterations marked, Drafette hands him an appointment card with a fitting date on it, his voice still soft but with a flirty undertone,  “See you next time sweety.”  

Luthor grabs his briefcase and heads to the door.  As he passes by Alfred, Alfred stands up and offers his hand, “It was a pleasure, Alexander.” 

Lex stops mid step, frozen in place, the air frozen in his lungs. He slowly looks at the outstretched hand and the earnest look on Alfred’s face, and his breath comes out slow and in small, quiet spurts as he regains control. Slowly, he reaches his hand out and accepts the handshake. His voice comes out winded. Confusion, disbelief and wistfulness dance across his words.

“Thank you Alfred.”

Notes:

Another one! Yay!

Did y'all see the expected chapter numbers?! I finally got around to writing synopses for all the bits I wanted to write, and that's what I landed on. What?! I have so much to tell! I'm a crazy person!

Please send me love, and let me know what you think of Drafette. Especially if you'd like to see this crazy man in other chapters, cause right now this is all he gets! If I get any feedback, I'll consider him being a more prominent character! Yes, that would probably be more chapters.

So, soo much planned.

Chapter 8: The Stowaway

Summary:

Hiding and Take Out do mix!

Lex Luthor does not have an issue talking about his father.  He believes when you deal with painful things, it just means there is still something to learn.  And he has learned many things from his father.  However, the talk with Alfred was another issue entirely.  Whether it was the reminders of his father’s office, or Alfred’s almost paternal concern for him, Lex felt the need to leave immediately.

As such, Lex leaves the Silver Snitch with his back straight and his strides long.  Only once he gets to his stretch limousine does he become aware that Mercy had followed him at a clipped pace, her eyes focused only on him.  As she opens the back door for him, her voice is clipped, but he can hear the concern in it, “Where to, boss?” 

He pauses in front of the door.  While he would prefer to just head home and leave Gotham behind, he has other business to attend to, and would be disappointed if he let this day go even further off the rails.  Finding a neutral choice, something to get his mind back on today’s schedule, “Let’s do lunch.”  She scans his face, her look critical, letting him know that he couldn’t fool her, “One of those days, boss?” 

He smirks a bitter smile, “Would seem so.”  

She nods as he gets in, her tone grim, “Thai it is.”  It’s only when he is actually sitting in the car does he realize both of their mistakes.  It seems that both of their attentions were too focused on Lex that they missed a very vital fact.  And that fact is that Lex isn’t the only occupant of his limo.  Across from him, lounging across the seats backing the driver’s partition is one Stephanie Brown.  

The young lady is spread across the seats, her feet propped up on the side seats, her phone in her hands.  He can tell from her surprised face and the ‘deer in the headlights’ look that she is just as surprised seeing him here as he is of her.  They stare at each other, neither willing to move until Mercy opens the driver’s door and spots the blonde hair through the open partition, “What the fuck?”

Steph drops her phone and holds her hands up in surrender, sitting up and putting her back in the opposite corner from Mercy, trying to position herself to be in both Mercy and Lex’s line of sight, “It’s not what it looks like!” 

Seeing Mercy’s body tighten and anticipating the woman actually diving through the open partition, Lex raises his hand to stop her.  “Stephanie, what are you doing in my car?” 

Stephanie continues to stare at Mercy, acknowledging the greater threat.  However, she does turn her head to Lex for quick eye contact and a self-deprecating smile, “Hiding?”

“From whom?", Mercy glares at her, her deep tone indicating it better be a threat bigger than Mercy’s wraith. 

Stephanie’s smile freezes, her words barely escaping her clenched teeth, “My family?”

Lex sighs through his nose, before putting on a condescending smile, “And you thought here was a good idea?” 

Realizing that as long as Lex is talking she was probably safe from Mercy, Steph slowly turns to Lex, “Well, you had a Drafette appointment.  While I didn’t expect yours to take as long as Bruce’s does, I figured I would have more time.” 

Unfortunately, curiosity gets the better of Lex and he slowly sits back, finally relaxing in the back seat, “And why would you think that?”

Steph also feels the tension lessen as she slowly put her hands down, “Alfred didn't come out, which meant he and Drafette were going to booze up and gossip, so I assumed they'd rope you into it for at least a little bit.” 

Since he had initially agreed to drinking with the two men, Lex slowly nods,  “The invitation had been extended, but I unfortunately had other plans.” 

Steph sits up at that, her voice curiously hopeful, “Oh, need to be somewhere else in Gotham?” 

Suspicious of her interest, Lex nods, “We were just about to head to lunch.” 

Steph moves over to the seats lining the side of the limo and slides down until she’s near Lex.  Her hands go up again as Mercy growls at her, still watching her like a hawk through the open driver’s door.  “So, I know we are practically strangers, and I have no right to ask of this.” She claps her hands together in a begging motion, giving Lex pleading eyes, “Is there anyway I can stay in your car for a bit longer?” 

Without missing a beat, Mercy growls, "No.” 

Stephanie whips her head to look at Mercy.  “Oh, come on! I won't destroy anything, I'm just going to sit here quietly and putz on my phone.  You won’t even know that I’m here.”  

Lex tilts his head gently, clearly mentally debating the pros and cons of her request.  Surprisingly, even with the morning’s earlier events, Lex decides to grant her permission to stay.  With a soft nod, he signals Mercy to start driving, “Very well, you may stay.” 

Mercy opens her mouth to retort, but the sound of a radio goes off in the car, coming from Stephanie’s pocket.  Dick’s voice follows, the sound of disappointment, “Dick captured, five remain.” 

This causes Mercy’s grim look to darken further as she stares her boss down.  Lex refuses to budge, and eventually Mercy sits in the driver’s seat, her grumbling voice carrying to the back of the car, “Great, let’s just intentionally kidnap a bat kid.  That sounds like a great way to spend the day.”  

Steph scoffs at Mercy as she sits down and bucks up, “Like they would believe that you kidnapped me.  They know I can take you.”  Mercy raises her eyebrow in the rear view mirror as she starts the car and puts it into drive.  Stephanie's confident smile turns a little sheepish, “Maybe.  Besides, everyone knows I'm avoiding them and would willingly put myself in this situation.” 

At that claim, Lex raises an eyebrow as well, “You would willingly put yourself in a position to get kidnapped?”

Stephanie frowns, “Not kidnapping, just this weirdly awkward position of hiding in not-so-evil rich man’s car without his, or his crazy protective bodyguard’s, permission.  This isn’t a kidnapping, hypothetical or not.” 

Lex gives a sharp smile, “Not-so-evil? You seem sure of that.  This could just be a ploy.  This could be a kidnapping.” 

Steph snorts, “Trust me, I know when I’m being kidnapped.  I’ve probably been kidnapped more times than you have.” 

Lex keeps his eyebrow raised, “And what makes you think I’ve been kidnapped before?”

Steph snorts as she pulls out her phone and starts texting, “Please, the sky is blue, the grass is green, and rich kids get kidnapped. It's just one of the rules of the world.”  Seeing Steph's attention sink into her phone, Lex pulls out his own phone, adding his fitting appointment to his schedule and moving meetings around to accommodate it.  The drive through Gotham is quiet, accented by the soft clicking of phone keys.  Only when Mercy parks the car outside of the restaurant Time to Thai does Lex look up.

Mercy leans over the partition to look at him, "The usual, Boss?” He nods before turning back to his phone. 

Mercy turns to Steph, “What do you want, stowaway?” 

Having been totally absorbed in what she was doing, Steph looks up in surprise, before spotting the restaurant and getting a bearing of where she was. “I haven’t eaten here before, so surprise me?” 

Mercy frowns, a contemplative look on her face, “Do you like spicy things?”  Steph grins as she goes back to her phone, “I’d say yes, but I’d be lying!”  Mercy sighs and gets out of the car.  

The quiet silence falls over them again, neither of them noticing the passage of time until the distant sound of bells signal the noon hour, startlingly Steph out of her focus.  Noticing that it’s been over thirty minutes since Mercy went in, Steph looks out the tinted windows at the restaurant, “She’s taking a long time.” 

Lex seems unperturbed by the delay, “She is most likely in the kitchen, forcing them to make everything from scratch in front of her.”  

Steph gives him a scandalous look, “That seems extreme.” 

Lex gives a minute shrug, “After the Green Bonnet incident, she’s been aggressively more careful.  She will compensate for the inconvenience.” 

Steph leans back, not at all placated, “Okkayyy.”  She looks back at her phone, but then shrugs and puts it down before turning to Lex, “Tell me about your first kidnapping.”

Lex doesn’t even look up from his phone, his answer in a matter of fact tone, “I would rather not.” 

The tone causes Steph to feel like she had miss-stepped in their temporary peace.  She frowns, her voice coming out small and soft, “Was it bad?”

Hearing her worried tone, Lex sighs softly before looking up, “Not in the way you are thinking.  I walked away unscathed.  But it is not a fond memory of mine.”  As he looks at her and the uncomfortable look on her face, Lex realizes this conversation isn’t done and patiently waits for her. 

Eventually, Steph breaks the silence, her voice apologetic, “I’m sorry.  That was insensitive of me.”  Lex watches as she twiddles her thumb,  “It’s just…  Bruce made all of us know that kidnapping was a risk, and how to handle it.  I guess, just with all our training and the ‘badge of honor’ jokes, we’ve just become desensitized to it.  Every time I’ve been kidnapped, I never really felt afraid of them…”

Feeling a weird need to comfort her, Lex leans forward a little, “The first time, I didn’t feel afraid either.  I didn’t know I was supposed to be afraid.” 

Steph finally makes eye contact, curiosity taking over her discomfort, “What happened?” 

Remember he was dealing with a bat kid, and their constant need to know everything, Lex smirked, “If you think I’m going to talk about it, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

Steph shares his smirk and gives a shrug, “Damn, thought that was going to work.  You masterminds all love to monologue.”

Instead of taking offense, Lex gave her a mischievous look, “Then you will have no problem telling me about your first kidnapping instead.” 

Steph gasps, “Oh, you’re sly.  But I’ll take that compliment.”  She leans forward, “So, the first time I was kidnapped it was by some upstart wannabe mobsters who thought getting a ransom from a Wayne kid was going to fund their criminal upstart.  But with all of Bruce’s training, I couldn’t take anything seriously.  They were just bad amateurs.”

Lex nods solemnly before motion with his hand, “Please, regale me with their flaws.” 

She starts ticking points off on her fingers, “They didn’t tie the ropes tight enough.  They stored me in a warehouse in Hood's territory.  Everyone knows that the Hood doesn’t suffer assholes who hurt kids. They couldn’t decide if they needed to keep their phone on for the return ransom call or off so it doesn’t get tracked.  They let me go to the bathroom by myself, which was very courteous to them, such gentlemen.  But, damn, that was so dumb of them.” 

Lex agrees with a nod, “Then I’m assuming you were able to escape by yourself at that time.” 

Steph leans back and waves her hand in front of her, “Nah. To keep our identities in tack, we are supposed to not do anything flashy unless it's life threatening.  Just got to wait for B or the cops to show up, and then act like a distressed victim in front of the news cameras.”  

She kneels down on the floor of the limo so that she can act out the generic damsel-in-distress. She swings her arm in a wide arch before pressing her wrist to her forehead in an overly dramatic flourish, her voice high and whiny, “Oh, officer, it was awful!”  

Before she can continue, Mercy opens the back door and looks in.  Seeing Steph in her pose, she frowns, “What are you doing?” 

Steph grins sheepishly as she sits down on the floor of the car, “We are bonding over our past kidnapping experiences.” 

Mercy gets in the limo and sits next to Lex, placing a bag of takeout boxes in her lap, “Oh, did he get to the part where his soulless bastard of a father refused to pay the random?”

As Steph processes the statement, her face contorts from confusion to disbelief and horror.  Mercy doesn’t notice the change in atmosphere as she starts pulling utensils out of the bag.  Only when she looks up to hand Lex and Steph napkins does she see the shattered look on Steph’s face.  As she scans Steph’s face, she frowns and leans gently into Lex, “What’s wrong with her face?” 

Lex accepts the offered napkins and silverware, his voice indifferent, “I do believe that is a look of pity.”  

Mercy snorts and firmly, but with no intention to harm, stabs Steph’s arm with a plastic fork, “Well you can stop that.  We don’t do pity here.  We only do unadulterated hatred and spite.” 

Breaking out of her stupor, Steph halfheartedly grabs the fork out of Mercy’s hand, her face scrunched up in a pout, her voice confrontational, “And how’s that working for you?” 

Mercy snorts and drops the rest of the napkins in Steph’s lap, “Great, we have homicidal tendencies and a Our Dads Suck club.”

Smiling softly at Mercy’s attempt to break the awkward tension in the car, Steph asks, “My bio dad sucks, can I join?  Does your club have hats?” 

Mercy snorts, “No, our club only has grudges and field trips where we aggressively smash plates in a fit of rage.” 

Steph gives her a thoughtful look as she taps her fork against her chin, “That actually sounds like a lot of fun, and a therapeutic way to deal with pent up emotions.” 

Mercy hands her her box of food, “Yep.”  Steph looks at Lex and Mercy in consideration before eventually Mercy snaps, “What?”

Steph shakes her head and smiles at her, “Nothing, I’m all for Team Therapy!”

As Steph opens the box, the smell of lemon pepper hits her.  She looks at the hodgepodge of food in her box, she frowns, “What is this?” 

Mercy shrugs as she opens her own box, “Angry Chicken. Sauteed onions and jalapenos, deep fried chicken and french fries, all drenched in lemon pepper butter.”

Steph blinks, “Is this even Thai food?  Is this even food?”  

Mercy smirks, “You said surprise you, are you not surprised?” 

Steph’s face turns thoughtful at Mercy’s comment, before she eventually concedes, “Fair.”  She gets a forkful of food and looks at the drenched fries, "Poor fries, I'd be angry too." As she takes the first bite, her face morphs from concern to confused happiness.  As she finishes chewing, she nods as she motions to the box with her fork, “Okay, I totally get this.” 

However, as she goes to take a second bite, Lex opens his box and the fragrantly spicy hot smell hits her, causing her to cough.  “Oh my god, what is that?!  It's burning my nostrils! Is this what mustard gas feels like?!”

Smirking at Steph’s over exaggerated behavior, Lex shows her the content of his box, “It’s catfish.” 

As she looks at the cooked fish swimming in a deep red sauce with peppers bobbing throughout it, she frowns, “Yeah, catfish drowning in the fires of Mordor….. I wonder if Mt.Doom smells like a Thai stir fry.  How can that smell so good, yet smell like it can be used for chemical warfare!  I want to try some, but I know it will be a mistake!”

A sage look crosses Lex's face as he offers the box to her, “Sometimes life is pain.”  Steph gives him a determined look before she turns her gaze to the box, raising her fork like she’s going to spear a piece of catfish as if it was a live fish. 

Once she stabs a piece and eats it, her eyes instantly start watering as she falls back down on the floor, clenching her fists tight to her chest, “Ah, my taste buds!  Oh, so good!  So painful!  It’s like physical fire!  Why would you eat that tasty, tasty abomination!”

Lex smirks, “My food options are limited, so I like a little extra flare.”  Lex and Mercy start eating their lunch as Steph gathers herself.  Once Steph sits back up and accepts the water bottle Mercy offers her, she slowly turns her gaze to Mercy’s box. 

Mercy raises an eyebrow, but eventually caves, showing Steph her box, “Basil Chicken.” 

Steph looks into the box, “Is this going to fry off my eyebrows too?” 

Mercy snorts and tries to cover her smile with her hand, “No, you’ll be fine.”  Steph thanks her and takes a forkful. 

The three fall into a comfortable silence as they tuck into their lunches.  However, the silence is broken when the radio in Steph’s pocket goes off again, this time Damian’s bitter voice echoes through the car, “Damian captured, four remain.” 

Mercy frowns down at Steph, “Alright, what the fuck is that?”  

Steph finishes her mouthful and waves her fork around, “So, we, the bat clan, have a roster for our patrols.  Bruce is the one that writes it up, and he always takes things into consideration, like school, work, all that jazz.  However, when it comes to holidays, it’s hard to appease everyone cause everyone wants them off, but bad guys tend to come out of the woodwork during holidays.  Well, Bruce got tired of us fighting over them, so if we want to have holidays off, we got to play a game.”

Lex frowns, “I doubt that your father would make a game out of something so vital.” 

Steph waves her fork, “He calls it ‘an evaluating test of our skills and abilities, and a means to test our ability to adapt’.  But we are pretty much playing an advanced game of hide and seek.” 

Mercy gets a competitive sparkle in her eye, “Nice.  What’s the rules?”

“The first day of every month, everyone starts in central park at 6:00am.   We have a thirty minute head-start before Bruce starts to try and find us.  He has access to all the Bat tracking means, except for our tracking our phones and our tracker chips.” 

Mercy stops her, “Wait, you have tracker chips?” 

Steph snorts, “Have you met my dad?  Bruce the Paranoid Parent?  We all have tracker chips.  Chips, plural.”  As Steph takes another bite of her food, Mercy gives Lex a side glance. 

Not missing a beat, nor looking at her, Lex casually gets another fork full of food, “One is more than enough Mercy.”

Mercy grumbles into her box of food before motioning Steph to continue.

“So, the last three people found get to have all the month’s holidays off.  We can either find a hiding spot, or just keep in constant motion, but since Bruce has access to the city’s cameras, that’s a dangerous gamble.” 

Lex nods before asking, “So, it’s just Bruce against all of you?” 

Steph nods and then shakes her head, “In the beginning, it’s just Bruce, but once Bruce finds you, you have to help him find the others. It speeds up the game, and makes it progressively harder.”

Mercy frowns, “If only the winners get the holidays off, what is the incentive for the losers to help Bruce track down the rest?” 

Steph talks over her mouthful of food, “The ‘loser’ that finds the most people will get to have one whole weekend off, no patrols.”  

Clearly invested in this conversation, Lex leans forward slightly. “So there are power plays.” 

Steph nods, “Yep.  Sometimes people will intentionally turn themselves in at the beginning so they can work towards a full weekend instead of the holidays.  Some people will win the holidays just so they can trade their shifts as bargaining chips.”

Lex and Mercy think over the information before a sly smile crosses Mercy’s face, ”So you are hiding in Lex Luthor’s limo just so you can have Valentine’s Day off?  Must be a very special date planned.” 

Steph’s face scrunched up in disgust, “Yuck, fuck Valentine’s Day.  It’s such a dumb holiday.  People shouldn’t need a commercial reminder to celebrate their loved ones.”  Lex and Mercy both give her expecting looks, before Steph sighs, “Fine, I do want Valentine's Day off, but it’s not for me.”  

Mercy gives a smirk, “Well, what is it?  You got us curious.” 

Steph’s petulant look morphs into an excited grin, “So, every year like clock work, Harley Quinn does some crazy big ‘heartfelt’ expression of love for the Joker.  Usually involves monstrous sized decorations, thousands of pounds of glitter, and bombs.  The bombs might be tied to fireworks, the bombs might be tied to people. But there’s always bombs.  But last year, Harley emancipated herself from the Joker, so instead, this is her first Valentine’s Day dating Poison Ivy.”  

Lex and Mercy frown at each other before Lex turns to Steph, “That sounds disastrous….”

Steph nods sagely, “Yep, we were all thinking that, and Bruce was even considering just to make VDay an all-hands-on-deck holiday, like New Years.” The excited look is back, “But instead!  Harley came to us, the bat clan, to help her plan this year’s Valentine's Day.”  

Mercy frowns, “And how is that still not a disaster?”

Steph grins, “Cause, Harley said that she wants to do her usual big flashy show, but she doesn’t want to do anything that would upset her eco-terrorist girlfriend.  With us helping, we will get to make sure that everything is super green and nothing blows up.” 

Lex gets a contemplative look. “And your father was okay with that?”

“Yep.  He has a soft spot for Harley.  And Ivy is so much better for Harley, and so we all want to support this weird little relationship.  The real problem is, we all want to help, cause it’s going to be so fucking cute!  But Bruce said not everyone can help because of patrol, so today’s three winners get to help Harley instead of patrol.” 

Mercy thinks it over, then nods, “I can get behind that. So, who’s still in the game?” 

Steph counts off her fingers, “Me, Jason, Tim, and Cass.”  

Lex puts his now empty takeout in the bag, “How long does this usually take?” 

Steph gets a thoughtful look as she checks the time, “Well, it depends.  This is actually one of the longest we have had.  Usually Jason wants weekends off, so he’s almost always helping Bruce in the beginning.  But since he’s actually hiding this time, everything's all off schedule. 

“Jason’s scary good at finding Tim and Dami. He says they are just so predictable, but I think it’s just Jason’s inner older brother spidey senses that allows him to find them first.  But without Jason finding them first, it slowed the game down quite a bit.  And until Jason loses, Tim is untouchable.  He’s a Hide and Seek extraordinaire.” 

Steph leans back on her elbow, sprawling across the limo floor, “As for Cass, she’s a fucking shadow, but I’m the one that usually finds her.  She tends to find hiding places near loud music sources.” 

Mercy can’t hide her amusement, her words almost a soft snort, “Music?” 

Steph nods, “Yep, she loves music too much, it’s really easy to distract her.  During December’s game, I found her just following a group of carolers.  She said that they had started singing near her hiding spot, and when they walked away, she just decided to follow them instead.  She’s just too fucking cute.”

A shadow falls over the window next to Lex, causing everyone to stop.  As a soft knock echoes on the window, Steph groans and flails her hands, “Dammit!  How does he do it?!” 

Giving Steph an apologetic smile, Lex rolls down the window.  Brucie Wayne leans against the frame of the car and leans into the open window, giving Lex a salacious grin with matching wiggling eyebrows, “Lex baby!  Do you come here often?” 

Lex’s face remains neutral as he greets him, “Good afternoon Bruce.” 

The racy smile turns softer as does his voice, “Sorry to interrupt, but I have come to take my child away.” His gaze shifts to Steph as he holds out a handheld radio to her. 

She frowns as she takes it, her voice disappointed, “Dammit.”

Bruce gives her a small frown but it doesn’t hide the mirth in his eyes, “Language.” 

Steph frowns, "Lauguage my butt. How'd you even know I was here?"

Bruce gives hers a smarmy smile before leaning in and whispering in a stage whisper, "I'm Batman."

Steph pouted, "You're the worst." Steph puts the radio to her mouth, her voice dejected, “Steph captured, three remain.”  With that, she hands the radio back to Bruce and starts gathering the napkins scattered around her. 

Bruce looks back to Lex, “So, Time to Thai?” 

Lex gives a neutral smile, “The best Thai food in Gotham.” 

Bruce nods, though he looks like he doesn’t believe him, “Hm, I wouldn’t know.” 

That causes a micro frown on Lex’s face, “You don’t like Thai food?” 

Steph drops her trash in the bag Mercy offers her and snorts, “Bruce doesn’t like spicy food.”  Her voice drops low, like she’s trying to mimic her father, “If I wanted to be in pain, I’d go fight crime.”  

Clearly un-amused by her mock impersonations, Bruce gives a knowing look to Lex, “I hope Steph wasn’t too much of a bother.” 

Considering the question, Lex answers truthfully, “Not at all, she was a very acceptable lunch guest.” 

Steph beams at Lex, “Really?  Can we can do this again?” 

Before he can answer, Bruce saves him by opening the car door, “Out of the car Steph.” 

Her smile crumbles as she remembers that she lost, “Fine, I’m coming.”  

Once she is out, she turns to Lex and Mercy, “Thank you for lunch and letting me hide in your car.  That was really chill of you two.  I guess I’ll see you around?” 

Mercy leans around Lex and gives Steph a shark’s grin, “We got a therapy session next week, you in?” 

Steph looks surprised before she quickly matches Mercy’s grin, “Damn straight I’m in!” 

Bruce frowns at the excitement Steph’s expressing, “Therapy?”

Steph grins up at him,  “We are going to go smash pottery in a fit of unadulterated hatred and spite!” 

Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face, his tone painfully neutral, “Ah.  Sounds like fun.  Now go find your sister.”  Steph sticks her tongue at him, waves to Lex and Mercy before running off.  Once she is out of earshot, Bruce turns to Lex, “I appreciate the text."

Lex nods, "You are welcome, I would hate for anyone to get the wrong idea." A touch of guilt flash across his face, "However, now that I know I cost her the win... She was quite excited about helping Quinn."

Bruce smiles kindly and pats Lex on the shoulder, "Don't worry. I've already asked some of the League to help out that night so that all the bats can help Harley."

Lex looks up at Bruce with a look of consideration. '"She's right, you do have soft spot for Quinn."

Bruce smiles softly at Lex with a knowing glint in his eye, "What can I say? I have a soft spot for quite a few people." A spark of mischievous fondness shine in his eye, "Even a villian or two." 

Before Lex can answer, Bruce turns and walks away, leaving Lex and Mercy to sit in the quiet of the car. Eventually, Mercy breaks the silence, “Damn that family is weird... This shit’s just going to keep on happening, isn’t it?” 

Lex stares at the retreating Bruce with a thoughtful look before he nods slowly, “Yes, I do believe it will.”  

Notes:

Yay! I kept changing this chapter in my head, so I'm very happy where it is and that it is done!

As always, all comments are appreciated! Help with tags would be great! I love y'all!

Hope y'all are looking forward to the next chapter, cause I am! :D

Chapter 9: The Charity

Summary:

Concussions and Charity do mix!

Lex Luthor does not have hobbies.  He has ambitions.  Every second he has available he uses to forward his pursuit of knowledge and of enterprise.  As such, he does not have free time.  Even today, on the rare day where his schedule shows that his Monday afternoon is empty, it is very precious time that Lex has reserved for studying curled up on the couch, soft music playing in the background.  Precious time that is eventually interrupted by a soft ping of his phone.

Wayne

I’m coming over.

As Lex looks at the text, he tries to muster up disappointment, however no ire rises at this interruption.  With a quick call to the doorman to tell him to send Bruce up, Lex resumes reading until a soft knock is heard on his door.  Lex gets up to answer the door and frowns at what he sees.  While Bruce looks put together, his clothes immaculate, his pale face tell a different story.  His hair looks disheveled like a hand’s passed through it one too many times, a frown tug at his lips, and his faraway look causes Lex to state the truth, “You look unwell.”

Bruce focuses his eyes on Lex, though Lex can see a slight delay in the response.  Bruce looks Lex over in kind, taking in his button up shirt and slacks.  His words sounding far away like he's trying to remember something, “Thanks...  You look… comfy.” 

Lex opens the door wider, “Come in, Bruce.” 

Bruce takes the invite, walking in slowly but with a sure stride.  He does a quick scan of the room, the disquieting behavior from before seemingly gone, “Nice place.  I thought there would be more…”  He motions his hand, in either a loss of words, or refusing to say them.  

Lex shuts the door with a smirk, “Fanfare? Security? Barbed wire fences?”  Bruce finally turns back to Lex from his surveillance of the living room, matching Lex’s smirk with a soft shrug.  Lex walks past him, heading back to the couch and his books, “Most of my threats come through the balcony windows.  As such, all of my defenses are there.  For the civilized people that use the door, they just have to deal with Mercy.”  

Bruce walks up to the balcony windows, noticing a metallic sheen on the double paned glass and shimmering light grid between them.  “Lasers and lead.”  A stated fact, Lex doesn’t answer, just sits down and opens up his book again.  Bruce looks past the glass and gazes out at Metropolis.  He soon gets lost in thought.  Lex tries to go back to reading, but eventually he looks up and stares at Bruce through the reflection of the window.  A look of contemplation sits on his face, though his eyes seem to squint in the sunlight. One of his hands raises as if to grab his head, but stops and drops back down to his side.  

Bookmarking his spot again, Lex leans forward, “Bruce?” 

Even though spoken softly, Bruce startles at his voice.  The jerk reaction and flash of startlement and disappointment on Bruce’s face causes Lex to frown in concern but before he can ask, Bruce answers, “Sorry, forgot…”  His words trail off before he quickly changes course, “Needed a quiet place to think.  Here seemed.. Good.” 

Frowning suspiciously at Bruce’s sporadic sentences, Lex ventures, “Do you need a sounding board for something?”

Bruce opens his mouth, then closes it quickly as a look of consideration crosses his face.  With a minute shrug, he starts talking, “Aquaman asked me, Batman, to see if I, Wayne, would invest in some ocean conservations.  I, Batman, said I would ask...me."  Bruce tilts his head like he wants to shake his head, but stops.  "There are many benefits for such a donation: Conserving our oceans first and foremost.  There’s also tax breaks and publicity.  A personal benefit is donating such a huge amount will make my board members see me, Wayne, as a financial concern and more willing to accept Dick's leadership quicker.  But...” 

At Bruce’s pause, Lex leans back into the couch, “You can’t concede to such a flippant financial request.” 

Bruce walks over to the couch and sits down on the opposite side with a soft sigh. “Yes.  Authur means well, but he is a man of action.  He doesn’t plan things, doesn’t do research.  He thinks ocean pollution is an enemy you can attack.  Not a festering wound that needs time and understanding to cure.   What will he do if the donated money doesn't make a noticeable change fast enough, or only fixes symptoms instead of the real issues?  He will only be disappointed and then very disgruntled.”

Lex nods in agreement, “I'm assuming that since you are in Metropolis hashing out this issue, there's a deadline you need to meet?” 

Bruce leans his head against the back of the couch and rubs his temple before tilting his head to Lex, “The Sol Tides Conservation is holding a charity tonight that would be the best benefactor of such a donation.” 

Lex nods, “What time is it?” 

Bruce looks at his watch, “1430.” 

Smiling softly at the misunderstanding, Lex clarified, “What time is the charity?”

The minute look of surprise and concern on Bruce’s face causes Lex to pause, Bruce looking upset that he didn’t realize that was what Lex meant.  Quickly covering his surprise, Bruce clears his throat, “It’s at 1900.” 

Lex leans across the couch and gently puts his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “I think you should lie down.” 

Bruce frowns at the hand on his shoulder, another look of confusion on his face, “Why I would I lie…”  Until his brain catches up with Lex’s statement, causing his frown to deepen. 

Lex gives the shoulder another pat, “I believe, in my yet-to-be licensed opinion, you have a concussion.” 

Still fixated on the hand on his shoulder, Bruce mumbles, his words dreamlike, “Had.  I had a concussion.”

Lex lets go and pulls out a pillow from behind his back, laying it on the couch next to him,  “You are grabbing your head in pain: Headache.  You are squinting at the lights: Sensitivity to light.  You are tripping on your words and not completing sentences: Confusion.  You are not following what I am saying: Difficulty concentrating.  You have a concussion: Present tense.”  With that, Lex grabs Bruce’s shoulder again and slowly pulls him down to lay his head on the pillow.  Surprisingly, he comes easily, lying down with a soft groan.  Once laying down, Bruce turns slightly to lay on his back, throwing his feet over the side of the couch.  

Lex picks up his book again, “Rest.  Take a nap.  I  shall wake you in time for the charity.”  Another groan is his answer.  With that, silence falls over the two of them, the only sounds are the orchestral music and the rustling of turned pages. 

However, sleep seems illusive, as Bruce, with his eyes closed, eventually asks, “What are you reading?” 

Lex turns a page, “I'm reading about the theory that head trauma has caused mental health disorders in serial killers.” 

Bruce grunts as he repositions, “John Wayne Gacy and the Son of Sam were both recorded to have multiple head traumas in their youth though there’s…”  His words trail off as if he lost his train of thought once again.  

He suddenly opens his eyes and looks at Lex, “Did you..  I mean, have you… " Bruce tilts his head on the pillow sideways, a look of thought on his face, "I feel there an elegant way to ask if someone’s ever had head trauma.” 

Lex snorts as he looks down at Bruce, “No, there isn’t.  Yes, I have been smacked in the head. A few times even.  However, if you are looking for a means to my madness, my money is on the Kyptonian meteor that almost killed me when I was a child.”  Bruce frowns, opens his mouth but then shuts it.  

However his lack of control is evident, as the words stumble from his mouth, “I thought that just made you bald.”  Lex gives him an un-amused look which makes Bruce frown up at him with a look of disapproval, his tone flat, “You can not blame being evil on being bald.  That is a preposterous claim for the main fact that you make bald look good.” 

Lex frowns at him before the frown is broken by a soft guffaw.  He shakes his head fondly, running his fingers through Bruce’s hair.  ”You’re self preservation and your self control are failing you Bruce.  Go to sleep now.”  Smirking at the light blush that colors Lex’s cheeks, Bruce settles back into the pillow.  The soft smile on Lex’s face stays as he goes back to his book.  Without even thinking, Lex continues to run his fingers through Bruce’s hair.  With this contact, Lex feels the tension leave Bruce as he slowly succumbs to sleep.  

As Lex runs his fingers through the soft, thick hair, Lex stops reading mid-sentence as he realizes that he had missed this: Running his fingers through hair.  And as he thinks about the past, Lex’s chest freezes up, his hand stops moving. His favorite memories he has of his mother is when she would let him comb her hair and braid it. The soft, light feel of her red hair catching on his fingers.  The peace and harmony of twisting the strands together.  Lex associated this act with care, with kindness, with love.  When he lost his mother, and then his own hair, Lex felt that that was just one more thing he doesn’t deserve.  Something he can no longer cherish.

Slowly, Lex starts to pull his hand away.  However, his motions jerky and stiff, Lex accidentally tugs some of Bruce's hair, causing Bruce to jerk and grumble in his sleep.  Lex freezes, keeping his hand still in Bruce's hair.  Bruce slowly settles down, however, he subconsciously seeks the comfort lost, pressing his head against Lex's hand.  Not wanting to wake up the man, Lex slowly pushes his hand back into Bruce’s hair.  Then, with slow, purposeful strokes, resumes running his fingers through Bruce’s hair.  As Bruce gives no more indication on waking up, the tension that seems to have frozen Lex shatters, making him let out a breath from his stiff lungs.  With a self-deprecating smile, Lex turns back to his book, feeling a mix of discomfort yet nostalgia; indulgence yet anxiety. A dissonant feeling that he's been feeling more and more the longer he stays friends with Bruce Wayne.

---

“Bruce.”

Bruce startles awake, groggy and confused.  As he looks around, he recognizes Lex Luthor’s living room, the sun setting outside the windows.  He looks to Lex, who is standing next to the couch he is laying on.  The man is dressed nicely, in a suit and tie, looking at Bruce with concern.  Bruce squeezes his eyes shut, “Why am I here?” 

As he peeks up at Lex, he sees Lex’s frown deepen before the man kneels down to look Bruce in the eyes.  “You have a concussion.  There’s water here for you.  Do you think you can eat anything?”

Just the thought of eating causes Bruce to quickly shake his head, but the motion sets his head afire, a groan escaping him.  As cold hands press against his head, his eyes flutter shut as the relief rips a different, satisfying groan from him.  “Take this.”  One hand leaves and soon he feels pills press against his mouth, followed by a cold cup of water, which he gulps eagerly.  Once the cup is empty, it is moved and then that cold hand is back, pressing him back down on the couch.  “Go back to sleep Bruce.”  Bruce grunts, but easily settles back down. 

Once he's laying down, the hands leave him.  Asking the first question on his mind, his voice pained, “Where are you going?”  

A cold hand returns to run through his hair, causing a sigh to escape.  A soft chuckle is his answer, followed by, “The Sol Tides Charity.” 

The name rings familiarly in his head, though his meddled thoughts make it hard to remember why.  “Don’t I need to…”  His words fall away as the hand continues to stroke his hair. 

“You need to rest.  Do not worry about the charity. Go back to sleep Bruce.”  Hearing the siren’s call, Bruce quickly succumbs to sleep.

---

The second time Bruce wakes up, he's having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and his thoughts straight.  As he looks around once more, he sees that the night sky is completely dark, and Lex sitting on the cough next to him, his book again in his lap.  While he is wearing a suit, the tie is undone and draped over his shoulder, his shirt unbuttoned two buttons.  One of Lex’s hands is gently rubbing against Bruce’s temple, the cold fingers slowly softening the tension headache.  

Before he is able to properly figure out what woke him up, his communicator goes off.  Bruce pulls it out and answers it.  With a voice rough from sleep, very little is needed to disguise his voice, “Batman.”  The sound that meets him is multiple voices in unison, meaning that he is on a group call.  In his groggy state, he only picks up the words, “Luthor.”, “Evil”, and “Money”. 

The clambering voices settle as Superman’s voice takes control.  “Batman.  We have a problem.”   

Before Bruce can even start talking, Superman continues, “Luthor just donated ten billion dollars to the Sol Tides Conversation.”  Bruce frowns and looks up at Lex in confusion.  Lex continues to read his book, apparently unable or uninterested in the conversation. 

Bruce sighs through his nose before speaking into the phone, “I’ll look into it.” 

However, before he can hang up, Arthur’s voice stops him.  “Hold up Bats, I got this.  Luthor said that he appointed Doc Perrow as his liaison.  Thing is, I know the Doc.  We used to drink together, and trust me, she hates Luthor.  I shouldn’t have a problem getting her to help track everything Luthor does at Sol Tides.”  

Bruce can feel his brain misfiring.  He's starting to think he has a concussion.  After an impregnated pause, Bruce clears his throat.  “Good.  Let me know if you need anything, or if you find anything.”  Using the silence as an indicator that everyone seems to accept the chosen course of action, Bruce hangs up.  

He looks back up at Lex, taking in his tired but relaxed position.   “You donated a 'Justice League Watch List' amount of money to Sol Tides.” 

Lex smirks as he looks down at Bruce.  "Am I not allowed to show a concern for the world and its resources?" 

Bruce raises an eyebrow, "This is a power play.  And I have a feeling it has something to do with why I'm here." 

Lex's smirk falls off, replaced by a startling common look of concern,  "You don't remember?" 

Bruce considers getting up, but deems that would only agitate his headache further.  "I know I was suppose to be at the charity.  I know I came here to..."  His mouth snaps shut as he finds out that everything else is just flitting memories; memories of cold hands and soft words. 

As he tries to unravel them, Lex presses his thumb gently against Bruce's forehead. "Stop overthinking.  You came here to think about Arthur's donation request.  I went in your stead to fix your problem."

Bruce frowns as he tries to think over what he knows, but the pulsing in his temple just makes him cringe, "How so?" 

Lex lays his other hand's fingers over Bruce's forehead, “Your biggest concern was that Arthur would not appreciate nor understand what Brucie Wayne’s money would actually do if you donated it.  However, if the money comes from someone with a more vicious intent, I anticipate he will want to pour over every single book and blueprint that has my name on it.  If everything goes to plan, Arthur Curry will understand the value of every penny that goes through the Sol Tides conservation.” 

Bruce slowly opens his eyes to squint at Lex, “And what do you get out of this?” 

Lex shrugs nonchalantly, his words sounding familiar in his head, though blurry, “There are many benefits for this endeavor: Conserving our oceans first and foremost.  There’s also tax breaks and publicity.  A personal benefit is also challenging my dear friend Brucie Wayne on live tv to match my donation.  I hear that he wants to terrorize his board members as much I do.” 

As the whole conversation between Lex and him falls into place in his head, piece by piece, Bruce slowly relaxes, a smirk slowly blooms across his face to match Lex's. "How could he turn down such a challenge?"  Settling into the luxury of Lex's consideration and cold, cold hands, Bruce chuckles softly, “Oh, our poor board members won’t even know what hit them.”

Notes:

Aw yiss! Short but sweet! Hope y'all like it! Comments and kudos appreciate!

Chapter 10: The Wayward Son

Summary:

Eggs and Regrets do mix?

Trigger Warning?
One of the characters has a trigger, so I feel I should call that out, even though I don't see this particular trigger being relevant to the masses, but I could be wrong. I don't know your life. So, just to be sure, Imma say.
TRIGGER WARNING

Notes:

Yep, eggs again; the Luthor Specialty. :P

Oh, did you see the trigger warning? Just making sure. Slade loves you! :)

It was an alien invasion. 

In these cases, it’s all hands on deck.  Even Jason and the Outlaws will show up for the call to arms, protecting the world against the dangers of the black abyss.

‘Jason and the Outlaws, sounds like a band name.  Maybe we should start a band instead of this bullshit.’  Jason shallows a yawn as he turns the last body over and shines his flashlight on it.  Yep, still dead.  Turning off his flashlight and pressing his ear com, Jason turns around to head back to the rendezvous point.  “Gildonna Park clear.” 

Batman’s voice echoes into his ear, causing Jason’s eye to twitch.  “Check again.” 

Jason swallows a string of curses, before gritting out through clenched teeth, “Would you like me to just carry the bodies back to the jet, just so you can check them out yourself instead?”  

The slightest delay as Batman thinks the thought over is more than Jason can take.  Jason may love his old man, even after everything, but the last three days has been the two of them butting heads; from fighting over strategy and how orders should be given out, to what tone said orders should be given out in, all the way down to who got more sleep last.  Has it really been three days since he slept?  God, Jason was tired.

 “Fuck you B! They’re dead!  I know dead, and these fuckers are dead!” 

The smallest puff of air is heard over the com, a soft sigh from Batman, “I just need you to be thorough.” 

The edge of Jason’s vision turns a green hue, “Thorough? How about I just put a few extra bullets in their dead heads, just to be sure!  Fuck this!  I don’t even know why I’m helping with clean-up.  I was just here for the threat.  Threat gone.  Red Hood out!”  With an aggressive click, Jason turns off his comms and storms towards the park exit in the opposite direction.

As he gets to the park exit and takes in the dark night and the destroyed streets in front of him, Jason curses.  In his rage, he forgot a few key points.  First and foremost, he is not in Gotham.  He was currently in Metropolis, the trouble magnet of the world, the favored destination of all extraterrestrial life with the desire to conquer.  Having just told his only ride home to fuck off, in an act of defiance, Jason refuses to turn around. 

He instead heads uptown, the part of the city that was less affected by the invasion.  Without a real destination in mind, when he sees Luthor’s building standing in the skyline, Jason shrugs.  ‘Fuck it.’, and heads in that direction.  Still in his full Red Hood garb, he takes the shortcut, and grapples through the skyscrapers and soon lands on the dominant balcony, the entire wall a solid pane of glass.  He takes off his helmet, makes sure that his domino mask is still in place, then peers through the glass.

He easily spots Luthor and Mercy facing each other, apparently in a heated debate.  From the calm, collected look on Luthor’s face, his arms crossed in a defiant pose versus Mercy’s furious expression, her hand constantly motioning to multiple evac kits next to the door, Jason smirks.  Cocky bastard was willing to stay in an alien invasion, and someone didn't like that idea.  Deciding to interrupt the argument and tell them the good news, Jason gives the glass a sharp tap.  Both heads whip towards him, Mercy automatically putting herself between Luthor and the window.  

He’s unable to hear them, but he reads Mercy’s lips move as she glares at him.  ‘Fucking great.  You let one in, and they all came trapezing in.  Like fucking cockroaches.’ 

Jason watches Lex give a twitch of a smile before he replies to Mercy, ‘At least he is asking nicely.’  Mercy turns to Lex and apparently answers, though he can't see her lips move.  Lex’s smile is back, but in a wider smirk, ‘I’ll take his tapping over having to replace the glass like some of our other guests.  Let him in.’

Mercy huffs, her whole body seeming to deflate before she storms over to what looks like a control panel.  After a few aggressive punches, a section of the glass misplaces and lowers into the ground, giving Jason access to the living room.  Jason smiles wicked as he walks in, intentionally pokes the sore elephant in the room, “Thanks.  Truthfully, I didn’t think you would be here.  I’m surprised y’all didn’t evacuate yet.”’

Mercy’s face pinches before she turns around to Luthor, “See, even Mr. Reckless says that you should have evacuated!” 

Before she can continue, Luthor holds up his hand to stall her, as he looks at Jason, “I’m assuming that since you are here, the issue has been resolved?” 

Jason nods before he presses his hand to his chest in mock offense as he looks to Mercy, “Mr. Reckless?  Moi?  I am not reckless.” 

Mercy smirks darkly, “Tell that to the blood you are dripping everywhere.”  

Jason frowns and looks down.  Indeed, there is a trail of blood that has followed him into the living room, staining the snow white carpet a deep red.  As he pulls his hand away from his chest and sees blood cover the tips of his gloves, he notices that darkness is creeping in on his vision.  “Oh.  Look at that.  You think I would have-

---

Jason wakes with a start and a gasp.  With quick precision, he surveys the room.  He is lying on a bed, in a bedroom decorated in clean, modern furniture.  One wall is complete glass, looking over the pre-dawn skyline of Metropolis.  ‘Luthor’s place.’  As he looks down, he sees that he is shirtless, half his chest wrapped in bandages, the main focus his shoulder.  ‘Fuck, did I really fucking pass out in his living room?’  

With care, he unwraps the bandages to take a look at the damage.  Underneath, he finds a four inch cut stitched together.  Impressed with the clean, professional stitch of the wound, he leaves the bandages off and gets up.  Time to find the host. 

Leaving the room, it is easy to follow the sound of cooking coming from the kitchen.  As he walks into the kitchen, he sees Luthor over the stove, cooking eggs.  Jason pauses and takes in the very domestic action.  

“You are cooking eggs.” 

Luthor gives no jump, apparently aware of Jason’s presence.  He only nods, “Yes.  I am curious why you boys seem so surprised by this.  Do you not know how to cook yourself, and this seems like a magical act of self-sufficiency?  Or are you surprised that I would not know how to be self-sufficient?” 

Jason smirks and sits down at the island in the middle of the kitchen so he can watch in earnest, “Dick could burn water, so he probably thinks what you are doing is, in fact, magic.  I, on the other hand, can cook, so thus, I am surprised? Confused? Impressed?  You can have a chef cook for you, everyday, forever.  Why do it yourself?”  

Luthor grabs a plate from a cupboard, “I’m less likely to accidentally poison myself than have a chef intentionally do it.  How would you like your eggs?” 

Jason frowns, “Umm, cooked? Not poisoned?” 

Luthor turns around with a plate of scrambled eggs and puts them in front of Jason, “Coffee machine is over there, help yourself.”  At the word coffee, Jason perks up and heads over.  

Luthor watches him walk around the island and frowns, “You are supposed to keep the bandage on those stitches.” 

Jason shrugs as he pulls a cup out of a cupboard, but winches as the stitches pull, “Why, it wasn’t bleeding.  Side note, these are some damn fine stitches.  I hope you didn’t rope some doctor into this.  Though I’d love to hear what excuse you gave’em for why you had someone bleeding out in your place.” 

Luthor smiles coyly before he starts cracking more eggs into the pan, “No doctor was involved.  I’m glad you appreciate my handiwork.” 

Jason whips his head over to Luthor in surprise, almost spilling coffee over his hand, “You stitched me up?!” 

Luthor hums softly as he stirs the eggs, “Mercy tends to break threads when she stitches.” 

Jason stares back down to the stitches, appreciating the fine work a bit more before shaking his head and heading back to the island, “Holy fuck. Thanks mom.”  

As he sits back down in front of his eggs, he takes a sip of coffee, a euphoric groan escaping his lips, “Oh my god... this is the best fucking coffee I have ever had.” 

Luthor starts to plate up his eggs, and gives a cocky grin over his shoulder, “I know.” 

Jason takes another sip, savoring it, “Where can I get some of this shit?” 

Luthor joins him at the island, his own coffee in hand, “You can't.” 

Jason pouts, “Why not?  You bought out the whole farm or something?”

Luthor takes a slow sip of his coffee, “Island. But yes.”

Jason leans over in excitement, pointing his fork at Luthor, “What, that wouldn't be Kunoa island, would it?!  I fucking knew your plans for that island looked half-assed!” 

Luthor leans back from the fork, a look of irritation on his face, “Of course it looked ‘half-assed’.  You fools only got half of my plans.” 

Jason takes a bite of eggs and swallows them before asking, “So what was your whole plan.  No offense, but what I saw, it looked like you were going to flood a village with lava.”

Luthor finishes his mouthful, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “The island's volcano has been building pressure for the last two years.  My plans were to prevent it from blowing and wiping the entire island populace out.” 

Jason smirks in self-gratification.  “Knew you weren’t that bad.  So, lay it on me, mastermind.  What was the grand plan?” 

Luthor looks at him, a look of dull consideration on his face.  Eventually he nods, “Step one:  Relocate the entire village and its members to the west side of the island so they are out of the projected volcanic flow.  Emergency precaution in case the volcano did explode preemptively.  Step two: Breach the weakest side of the volcano to lessen pressure.  Expected outcome: flood the old, vacant village with lava.  Save the island populace and the best coffee in the world.”

Jason grins as he raises his cup, “And this is evidence that you were successful, even with the Justice League meddling?” 

Luthor raises his cup and clicks it against Jason’s in cheers, “Indeed.” 

They both take a sip before going back to their breakfast.  “Hey, thanks for letting me stay.  And for patching me up.” 

Luthor hums, his words soft but sincere, “You are welcome.”

They continue eating in comfortable silence.  

However, as Jason nears the end of his eggs, raises his fork, “So, I have this thing going on, and I know asking this will probably be a bad idea, so I’m ready for a quick retreat, but gotta ask. What happened with your grudge against Superman?” 

Luthor stops completely, his jaw slowly closing, his fork slowly lowers to his plate.    Jason plows on, his hands up in a placating motion, “Hear me out.  You have to know it’s super suspicious.  I mean, you tried to kill him for almost a decade straight, then you completely stopped, cold turkey.”

Luthor slowly turns his head and looks Jason over, his face contemplative.  As the seconds drag on, Jason sighs and looks down at his plate,, “Yeah, sorry.  It's just…”  He smushes his remaining eggs with his fork as he mumbles,  “I’m still working on forgiving Bruce with his fucking bullshit, but its hard some times.  I just thought you would have some ….”  He sighs and drops his fork, then runs his hand through his hair as he looks imploringly at Luthor, “ I don’t know, insight or something?  How do you forgive a guy?  For doing.. whatever he did?”

Luthor’s look doesn’t change, but the smallest smirk wiggles on his face, “I don’t know much of what Bruce’s ‘fucking bullshit’ is, but shall I assume it has to do with his stubborn moral beliefs? Or his emotional…” 

At Luthor’s loss of words, Jason supplies with a smirk, “Emotional constipation? Bit of both, really.” 

Luthor smiles fondly and nods as he puts his napkin over his plate, “I will admit that I do see some similarities with our ‘grudges’, but you will be quite disappointed to learn that my ‘grudge’ didn’t stop because I forgave Superman.”

Jason frowns in disappointment, a soft “Oh..” escaping. 

Luthor nods sadly, “Truthfully, I just got tired of having a tantrum.” 

Jason’s face contorts into a look of astonishment, “A tantrum.  You were having a decade-long tantrum?” 

Luthor smiles softly, the edges of his lips twitching, “Well, it did have years of build up.  You do know who Superman is, yes?  As a person?”

Jason jerks his head, unsure how to answer, but eventually pushes his fingers up his nose like he was pushing up glasses nervously, a very Clark Kent move.  Luthor nods, “Well, I have known Clark and his parents for quite a long time.  And I had considered them the best people I’ve ever known.  Or at least back then I did.”

Realizing the indications, Jason’s question comes out almost a breath instead of words, “Back then?” 

Luthor smiles again, but this one is one of the most sincere smiles Jason has seen from him, before it is replaced by a look of melancholy. “There was a time that Clark and I were friends.  Before, well… before everything.”  Almost lost in thought, Luthor doesn’t notice the surprise on Jason’s face, he just continues wistfully, “I even considered him my best friend.  I thought we were going to change the world together.”   

A small silence falls, but Jason refuses to lose the chance at this insight, asking in earnest, “What happened?” 

The sincere smile is back, but Luthor’s eyebrows twitch down in a flinch, “First day I met Clark, I hit him with my car going sixty miles an hour.  After pulling me out of my car, and a freezing river, the first thing he ever told me was a lie.  That what I saw was an illusion from the trauma, that I didn’t hit a man with my car, and that that man survived a head on crash with a speeding vehicle.  And that lie set the stage for our friendship.  A stage of lies.”

Jason snorts in disbelief, “You hit Superman with your car?!” 

Luthor shakes his head slowly, his smile turning soft, “No.  He wasn’t Superman then.  He was just Clark Kent.  Mr. Country Boy, goody-two-shoes, boy scout Clark Kent.  And that’s what irked me, when he lied to me.  At first, I didn’t have proof, it could have been head trauma.  But over the years, I gathered evidence, I had proof that he was different, he was special.  But when I brought it up to him, he still lied.  When I shoved evidence in his face and demanded an explanation, he lied.  Again and again.  And I don't know if you've seen that man lie, but he is quite terrible at it.”

Jason scoffs, mimicking as he explains, “Oh, the worst.  He's eyes get all squinty, and then his eyebrows slowly start rising like they are trying to pull his eyes back open.” 

The display causes Luthor to chuckle, “Agreed, the worst..." The chuckle peters into a sigh.  "There is the scientific debate that people are products of nature vs nurture.  If that is true, then Clark and I, we are both byproducts of nurture.  But back then, I could only assume that his lying was in his nature.  To see this boy raised by the best people I have ever met, a salt of the earth people like the Kents. To see this boy, raised by their hands and their hearts, lie about things I had evidence, scientific evidence for.  It… it destroyed my mind.  

“I started believing that if this alien, this overpowered, unstoppable alien who could live on the love of the Kents, this alien who claimed to be my friend, could look me in the face and lie to me? I believed that there had to be something flawed with him, something wrong with him.  It must be in his nature to lie, to deceive.  And I accepted it.  I accepted that I could be a victim of this person’s flaws. 

"But then he came out as Superman.”  A look of betrayal and disgust freezes on Luthor’s face, his words coming out breathy, laced with hate and conviction, “When he came out as this savior of mankind. This guardian angel from space... I saw red.  I could not let him do it.  I would not let all of mankind be lied to by this alien. I wanted him dead for this galactic sham he represented.”  

Luthor takes a breath, and the tension shatters.  The conviction in his voice draining away, morphing into melancholy and regret, “And so I tried to kill him.  ...Again and again, and again. For every lie he told me, I tried to take his life.  So many times, we lost count.  And when I finally got close enough, the Justice League showed up and saved him.  And that moment, that one second where Superman’s life was in my hand, and I attempted that killing blow, only to be foiled by the Justice League…”

Luthor sits quietly for a second, his eyes slowly flickering around the room, unable to focus but the need to anchor his thoughts.  Eventually he continues, his voice raw with unspoken emotion, “And I thought I hated Superman. But nothing could compare to the hatred I grew for the Justice League in that one moment.  In that moment, they proved me wrong.  They proved that this alien could make friends. This alien was willing to have friends.  They were proof that it wasn’t him that was flawed, it was just me. I just wasn’t good enough to be Clark’s friend.  My whole life I have never been good enough. That’s when it became even more personal.  It became too personal.  I was hurt. I was Angry.  I was….”

Luthor looks down to his hands in his lap, and they twitch as if in the need to grasp something.  Then like a light being flicked on, Luthor looks up and gives rueful smirk, dispersing the intense atmosphere, “Well, I was very dumb.  I was so able to believe that the Kents were truly perfect, and it was this perfect alien that had to be flawed.  In the end, it really just comes down to nurture.  The Kent's told Clark to hide who he was. To lie through his teeth. To not trust a Luthor.  I was just so fallible to their kind smiles and warm embraces.  I was fooled..  We were all fools in the end.”  

Jason sucks in a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  Almost afraid to break the moment, the words stumble from his mouth, “Do you regret…  well, anything?” 

Luthor smirks like he's about to tell a joke, but the hurt and pain in his eyes betray him, “I would say not being good enough, but seems touché, doesn’t it. Not being good enough is too much of a constant issue in my life, I feel that I would have to be more precise.  Not a good enough son, not a good enough friend, not a good enough person.  But you can not regret that. I know who and what I am, and I refuse to expect perfection from someone so broken.” 

---

Jason's world tilts on its axis, like the world was in perfect HD, but then it shatters into a thousand glass shards.  Like everything made sense until a crowbar hit his ribs, until a bomb blew up in his face, until a batarang hit his hand, cut his neck, broke his heart.

Broken.

Jason chokes at the word broken.

Luthor's word echoes in his head like a thousands cries of the Pit.  It sounds like the word that has been echoing in his head since the day he came out of the Pit, because it is the same word.

Broken.

Luthor said it like he knew what it really meant.  Not just something with cuts and slashes and cracks in it.  But something that is missing pieces.  Pieces so small you can never find them again.  Pieces that you need cause you miss them like the breath that he can't seem to get into his lungs.  What he's been feeling since he opened his eyes with green liquid fire in his vision. 

Broken.

As if he came back wrong.

---

Jason chokes at the word broken. His choke causing Luthor to look at Jason like he sees the pain and self-hate that word causes him.  Jason's breath rattles in his chest before he's able to let it out.  Luthor looks like he's about to say something he knows is going to cause pain, but it needs to be said.  Jason nods slowly, accepting the painful truth that Luthor is about to say.

“I think that’s your problem with Bruce.” 

Even prepared for it, Jason startles. His defenses already shattered by the trigger, Jason shallows thickly, his voice dreadfully vulnerable, “That I’m broken?” 

Luthor gives him a sympathetic smile and puts his hand on his shoulder.  The pressure centers Jason more than he would expect, allowing him to latch onto Luthor's words. As if to calm a startled animal, Luthor's voice is laced with kindness, his words soft spoken.  “We all are broken Jason.  Everyone is.  Especially people like us.  You, me, Bruce.  It’s in our nature to fall apart.  Jason, it's okay to be broken." 

The word resonate in Jason, crystallizing tension in his chest.  A pain that he can't stop or pull out.  Listening to Lex with crystal clear focus, Jason latches onto Lex's wrist, the need to flee or fight struggling over whether to push Lex away or pull him close.  Lex continues, refusing to acknowledge the death grip on his wrist. 

"We break everyday.  Everyday we have pieces falling off of us.  There are some days where you can even see the cracks form, see the pieces fall away.  And there are days that hit you so hard you don’t think anything can keep you together.  But those are the easy days, cause you can see yourself losing something important, and you can mourn them. It’s the times where you don’t realize you are losing pieces. The times you don’t actually see that pieces are being shaved away, sanded away gradually through time." 

Jason is finally able to get a breath in his lungs, but it feels like its dragging against the roof of his mouth and the back of this throat.  Luthor slowly wraps his other hand around Jason's in a gentle grip, soothing the death grip loose, “We all lose things, important things.  Through time, we lose things like our innocence, and our hopes, and our principles.  But the thing with you and Bruce.  Where you clash and fight and war on; those times you aren’t just losing good things.  We can lose bad things too.  We can lose our hatred.  We can lose our grudges.  We can lose the sharp edges that makes us monsters."

The word monster makes Jason gasps like he's taking his first breath in years, tears well in his eyes.  Lex instantly pulls him into a hug, cradling his head and soothing his hair down.  Jason clings like a man afraid of drowning, his breathes coming in ragged gasps.  And in this moment of weakness, of shattered defenses and unexpected acceptance; no tears fall, no cries are gasped, but Jason falls apart all the same.  And through deep breathes and the kind hands rubbing his back, Jason hears Lex confess, whispering against his temple.

“My biggest regret is not being able to see everything I was losing.”

---

And there is silence as two men lose themselves in thought, of past regrets and current losses.  Gradually, slowly, as if afraid to break the solemn atmosphere, the morning dawn slowly bathes the kitchen in light.  As the light warms the air surrounding them, they stir from their thoughts, Jason gently pushing Lex away, ashamed of his weakness but not wanting to punish the comfort given. 

To distract himself, Jason slowly looks around, eyes falling on his coffee cup.  Picking it up gently, Jason looks at the last of his cold coffee.  As he sets the cup down, he gives Luthor a small, broken smile, his voice coming out rough as he tries to lighten the mood, “ What do you do with a whole island’s supply of coffee anyways?” 

Lex moves over to the coffee machine and giving Jason a small smile in return, “Supply all of my Lex Corp offices.  My employee benefits state that I serve the best coffee in the whole world.  I refuse to lie on something so important.” 

Appreciating the topic change, Jason nods his head sagely as Lex refills his cup, his voice still sounding subdued, “Very important indeed.”  He takes a drink and savers it. 

Slowly as the awkwardness starts to leave him, he gives Lex a look of mock consideration, the humor forced, "So, you need another bodyguard or something? I think I need the LexCorp coffee benefits in my life."

Lex rolls his eyes as he fills his own cup back up, “Mercy is more than I need. However, I am a kind man.  I am willing to send you a monthly supply as long as you don't tell Bruce.  I don't need that ass buying yet another thing out from under me.” 

The curse coming from Lex's mouth startles a laugh out of Jason, and his smile turns a little warmer, “That’s a fucking deal.”

Notes:

I love this chapter so much, one of my favorites! I've been sitting on it for ever. Jason's my favorite, so wanted to make sure he got his required hug, so I could add the tag :P

As always:
Comments Please!

Thanks for reading!

And I had a little soundtrack for this chapter, if anyone's interest!
Some Nights - Intro by fun.
Stupid Deep by Jon Bellion
Good Things Fall Apart by Jon Bellion
The Drug In Me Is Reimagined by Falling In Reverse
Better by OneRepublic
Screen by Twenty One Pilots
The Run and Go by Twenty One Pilots
Last Stardust by Sapphire

Chapter 11: The Peer

Summary:

Texts and titles do mix!

The interesting thing about being friends with Bruce Wayne is his commitment to his personas.  Even after months of texts, and even the occasional call, Lex can still be bafflingly impressed by the dedication and infantile behavior that Bruce is willing to put into being Brucie Wayne.  However, as their conversations continue, Lex was quick to realize that while the interactions had Brucie all over them, the desire to continue their conversations was truly Bruce's, the man behind the mask.

 

Wayne

Why can’t people just accept free money?  Why do they have to make it a thing? :/

 

Lexie

What seems to be the problem?

 

Wayne

That Tol Sides Con that you made me donate money to, they want a photoshoot next month.  

 

Lexie

I thought you enjoyed photo-shoots.

 

Wayne

I always love a good photo op, but they want it at dawn, like a crazy people.

 

Wayne

And I won’t even get to see you, and you are the only reason I even donated to them. >:P

 

Lexie

….  I will see if I can arrange my schedule.

 

Wayne

:D :D :D

 

---

 

Wayne

Hey!  At the photoshoot they are releasing all of their new little ocean cleanup robots out into the wild!  And cause we donated all the monies, they are letting us name all of them!

 

Lexie

I can tell that they will regret giving you such power.

 

Wayne

Nonsense, I’ll give them great names!  The Codfather!  Buoyonc é !  King of the Whirl!

 

Lexie

Bruce, these are not some second-rate, hand-me-down yacht that needs a comedically distasteful name.  These are multiple million dollar, state of the art machines.  Please be reasonable.  

 

Wayne

You’re right.  We should name them after us in honor.  How about Lex Lure? Bruce Wave!  

 

Wayne

Lexie?

 

Wayne

Lex?

 

Wayne

Lexie?  You can not ignore me forever!!!!

 

---

 

Wayne

Lexie Baby…  Will I ever see my Drafette shirt again?  Or are you holding her hostage for some dastardly reason?

 

Lexie

I am actually in possession of two of your Drafettes.

 

Wayne

O.o  What?? When?! How?!  

 

Wayne

Did we have sexy times, and I not remember?!  If I missed another chance to see you shirtless, I’m gonna be devastated.

 

Lexie

When I had visited prior, during my stay Alfred graciously loaned me one.

 

Wayne

:o

 

Wayne

…. And will I be getting them back any time soon?  Like maybe at the photoshoot?  ;)

 

Lexie

If you are planning to wear either of these colors at the photo-shoot, I must decline.

 

Wayne

O.o?  Decline giving me my shirts back, or decline showing up? 

 

Lexie

Undecided.  Neither of these colors are particularly flattering on you.

 

Wayne

Are you saying you would just like to see my shirtless? ;D

 

Lexie

You sir, are incorrigible.

 

Wayne

You sir, are a shirt thief. :P

---

“Lexie, baby, that's where you ran off to!”

Conversation interrupted, Lex looks away from Doctor Perrow to see Bruce walking down the pier bridge towards them.  Once in range, Bruce attempts to hug Lex, but the sling on his arm gets in the way.  Bruce winces when he tries to raise his arm, but he laughs it off as he throws his one usable arm around Lex in a half hug.  

Once done, he steps back and gives Lex a knowing look as he eyes the shirt Lex is wearing.  “Now you are just antagonizing me.”  He gently grabs Lex’s tie, rubbing the purple fabric between his fingers, admiring the way it compliments the red Drafette shirt underneath it.

Lex allows it, his face completely neutral and his tone deadpan, “Perish the thought.” 

With a smoldering look, Bruce gives Lex a smirk, “I’d be more upset if my shirt didn’t look so good on you.”  At the blatant flirtation, Lex sees Perrow roll her eyes. He gives her a discreet nod, an invitation to leave, that she takes willingly, quickly walking away from the two men.

Leaning in closer to Lex, the look on Bruce’s face doesn’t change but his words loses the fire, instead has a calm, knowing tone. He talks quietly only for Lex to hear, as if telling a joke, “I don’t think she likes me.” 

Lex raises an eyebrow in mock disbelief, “I can not possibly think of why Doctor Perrow would not like you.  It can’t be that you have been calling her Perry and Platypus all morning.  Nor your determined gaze you had on her chest during her entire speech.  Or that you named one of her robots Ocean McCleanFace.”

Bruce gives a ‘you-got-me’ look, but the look turns into a wince when his shrug tugs on his hurt arm.  Clearly unamused by the man, Lex inspects the sling, “I am sure you know: that sling should be tighter.” 

Bruce nods sagely, mischief in his eyes, “Yes it should.”  Seeing that Bruce has no intention of tightening it himself, Lex steps to his side with a sigh. He puts one hand on Bruce’s shoulder, the other gently holding Bruce’s arm to his body as he grabs the fastener on top. 

Lex doesn’t need to see the smirk Bruce gives him because he can hear the flirtatious humor lace Bruce’s words, “You just want to get your hands all over me, don’t you?” 

Giving the fastener a harder tug then necessary, Lex replies drily, “And how did this happen anyways.” 

Bruce’s laugh is loud and fake, “Teaching Damian how to ride a motorcycle.  Silly thing fell on top of me.”

Lex hums as he puts pressure on Bruce’s shoulder blades to get him to stand up straighter. As he tightens the strap, he speaks low, “Disappointing. Not your most creative way to dislocate a shoulder.” 

Bruce sucks in a breath as Lex tugs the strap taunt and fastens the sling in place.  Bruce hisses through his teeth, dissipating the pain in a harsh whisper, “Not as disappointing as a jamming grappling hook.” 

Lex finishes with a firm press on the fastener and steps away, “And I’m assuming you had a doctor look at it?” 

Finally make eye contact with Lex again, Bruce’s smile is back, cocky and sure, “Ain’t that what I’m doing right now?” Lex frowns at Bruce’s childish antics but before he can rebut Bruce, Bruce leans back against the dock’s railing, his smirk still in place, “Now don’t play me for a fool Lex.  I saw the books you were reading, the USMLE exam papers tucked in them.  The perfect stitches you gave Jason.  And you said it yourself, ‘in my yet-to-be licensed opinion’.  Lexie, why didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a doctor.”

Lex wants to frown at this infuriating know-it-all, but his face settles into a matching cocky smirk instead, “I am a doctor. Of Engineering and Chemistry.” 

Bruce nods in acknowledgement, but he holds up a finger in consideration, “Yet you never use the title freely, when you clearly could.” 

Lex looks mildly peeved as he scoffs at that,  “That would be distasteful.  People already think I’m too boastful, I don’t need more ire.”  Then in a moment of particularity, Lex scrunches his face up in mock discontent, his voice coming out snooty and nasally, “I’m Doctor Lex Luthor.” He gives a soft snort as he tuts,  “Dreadful.”

Humored by the display, Bruce asks, “So then tell me Lex, why the Doctorate of Medicine?” 

Lex gives a smile, but has a secretive edge to it, “I will not tell you.” 

Bruce doesn’t look upset by the refusal, just nods his head, “Would it have to do with the dozen medtech companies that you recently bought in the Midwest?” 

Lex hums and walks to the railing, crossing his arms to brace himself as he leans over to peer out over the waters.  There is silence until he tells the waves, “I will only tell you this:  I have a theory.  One I would like to prove.  But to prove, I must first understand.” 

While many would consider that extreme measures, Bruce understands the conviction that goes with that mentality, the need to know everything, understand everything before you can even consider the unknowns.  He turns around and looks over the ocean beside Lex.  He quotes in a quiet, reverent voice, "To make an apple pie from scratch, you must first make the universe.”  The words cause Lex to jerk in surprise; the words of Carl Sagan, one of the many mantras that Lex lives by.

Hiding the jerk, Lex steps away from the railing and turns to look at Bruce, “So, yes, they are related.  And that’s all I will tell you.” 

Having seen the jerk, and the almost standoffish expression on Lex's face, Bruce looks thoughtful as he slowly nods, “Alright.  I will leave it alone.” 

Lex looks surprised for just a second before he gives Bruce a small, but thankful smile.  Bruce seems satisfied, giving another small nod with more conviction, before asking imploringly, “But should your theory prove correct?” 

Lex gives a conspiratorial grin, “Of course I would need to have it peer-reviewed, especially by someone with an engineering doctorate.  Thus I would be a fool not to ask you, Doctor Wayne.”

Having the title, his title used on him causes a noise to rise out of Bruce, a twisted mix of a chortle and a snort, “Oh, please don’t.” 

Lex’s grin only seems to widen, “And why wouldn’t I?  Doctor Wayne sounds suitably better than Doctor Luthor.” 

Chuckling softly, Bruce shakes his head in disagreement, “I strongly disagree.  Having a last name that is also a common first name is dreadful.  But going by Doctor Wayne?  Sounds like an unfinished introduction, like there should be more to it.”  Then in a mimicry of Lex’s early disdain, Bruce mimics the nasally tone Lex used earlier, “I’m Doctor Wayne.” With a guffaw, he motions with his hand as if impatient,  “Doctor Wayne what?”

Then, with the most deadpan voice, his face completely void of expression, Luthor gives the only appropriate answer that comes to mind, “McCleanFace?” 

Bruce’s laughter bursts from his chest as if punched, his boastful laugh echoing across the empty pier. Lex leans up against the railing to watch Bruce as the man clutches his side in mirth.  As the laughter dies down, Bruce grins at Lex, “You sir, are more delightful than you have any right to be.” 

Lex just smirks as he stands up, seeing Mercy motion to him from the distance.  With a nod to her, he puts his hand on Bruce’s shoulder as he starts to walk towards her, “I know.”

As he gets to the pier bridge, Bruce calls to him, his voice humorous, “I’m never going to get that shirt back, am I?”

Lex looks back at Bruce, then down to the shirt before giving Bruce a sharp grin and a coy shake of his head, “No, I don’t think you will.”

 

Notes:

Another short and sweet one, but after Jason's chapter, I figured something light was needed. :D

That said, I really want to thank y'all for the comments! I really appreciate them, they really are what keeps me going! I don't have a problem! Really. *refreshes page, checks comment counts* No problem at all.

So, yeah, this is a very symbiotic thing. I write things, I get comments, I want to write more things. So doing three chapters in one week feels pretty fuck awesome! And it's all thank to y'all! So Thank You! :D #norestforthewriter

Chapter 12: The Job

Summary:

Jobs and emotions do mix?

Notes:

Woof, I think this is my longest chapter, and this is a rough one. It has the good, it has the bad. Altering the traditional cannon to get ALL the feels got the shit kicked out of my feels. So I really hope y'all like it. Cause someone needs a hug, and I hope everyone gets a hug after this.

I feel like I should have another trigger warning? This chapter mentions the death of an OC character, but it gets emotional af? There, that's my warning.

Tim is blaming sleep deprivation.

To be fair, he does know that will hold little weight in his defense.  He's been sleep-deprived for years and hasn't made a mistake this bad before.  Though he will admit, only under duress, that the last year has been strenuously slightly more difficult for him, so his sense of judgement could have been impaired.

He would not say that he was devastated disappointed that the Wayne Enterprise board of directors said that he 'didn't fit the company's culture.'  He could barely understand their point of view, and knew fighting it would just look childish unprofessional.  However, Tim has spent much of his time in the last five years working towards the ultimate goal of being Wayne Enterprises’ CEO. Without that focus, Tim found himself without a sense of purpose. Thus, he fell into the tried and true method of avoiding emotions filling his time. He spent every second of his spare time in the Batcave, researching any and every thing that would get his mind off his  interested him.  

The scarecrow made a new gas?  Let's spend two days breaking down and understanding its components.  It was made with sugar?  After successfully stopping him, let’s spend another week reading tests and studies about lab-created sweeteners. 

Babs found another computer virus that could wipe all social media?  Tim saw no problem spending three days dissecting its code and stopping it before it can take effect.  The villain was tired of people using the phrase ‘hastag’ in real conversation?  That easily leads into a tangent that takes three days investigating and projecting the expected popularity of the hashtag Lucie. 

Lex Luthor emails him, asking for his opinion on the new pharmacy company Pillitso.  

…..

...

Okay, so that last one was weird unexpected.  However, Tim was emotional distraught bored, so he saw no issue sending Luthor his opinion on said company.  Which turned into spending a whole week investigating Pillitso and sending a thorough investigation report to the Drug Enforcement Administration. Luthor had thanked him for his time and insight, and that was the end of that.  

...Until it wasn’t.  It quickly became a common occurrence through the past months; Luthor would email Tim for his opinion on this company.  Message him for his thoughts on that business strategy.  Tim saw no harm in replying.  When he had accumulated all his experience and knowledge to run a multi-billion dollar company, why not share said knowledge?  

It even got to the point that Tim started looking forward to Luthor's messages.  Luthor always seemed to have his hands in all the most controversial businesses; he always seemed to know when a company was about to go big, or bad. And having access to the insight of such a powerful business mogul was a rare opportunity that Tim wasn’t going to squander.

So, months into their business exchanges, Luthor had emailed Tim, asking for his opinion on one of Luthor's own projects; the revitalizing of the traditional camera company Picture Percent. Tim didn't hesitate to click the provided link and digitally sign the NDA. Tim created a username and password, and then dived right in the data Luthor gave him access to.  

And it could have been his emotional turmoil boredom, or that the project was revamping his favorite camera company in the hopes of making it a digital photography empire, but this was Tim’s biggest mistake.

Tim didn't read all the terms and agreements on the LexCorp Non-disclosure Agreement.

---

The first sign of his mistake was easily overlooked.  The moment he signed the NDA, his email inbox was flooded with emails.

LexCorp: NDA confirmation  - Copy Attached

LexCorp: Welcome to LexCorp Timothy Drake!

LexCorp: Access granted to LexCorp’s Consulting Database for…

LexCorp: Please verify email address.

LexCorp: Information needed - Please update your profile.

By the fifth email, Tim had quickly made a folder on his email account, filtering all LexCorp emails directly into it to be looked at later.  Without another thought, Tim continued looking through the Picture Percent’s data.  Unfortunately for Tim, he had gotten so invested in this new project that he never had time to review any of the LexCorp emails he received.

---

While the first sign was digital mail, his second sign was the physical mail that started to show up less than a week later.

“Master Timothy, I would hate to draw you away, but you have some mail that seems to be a matter of importance.”  Hunched over the computer staring closely at the screen, Tim barely acknowledged Aflred, only grunting at him.  As Alfred cleared his throat, the sound carrying with it years of disappointment at such an uncivilized response, which made Tim blink.  With a delayed response, Tim slowly turned his wide-eyed, slow-blinking stare to Alfred. 

It took him a second to take in Alfred, and specifically, the big white envelope in his hand.  The LexCorp brand and address on the top left, with his name and the manor address in the middle.  It was the bold, red letters that look stamped across the side of the envelope that caught his attention.  INFORMATION NEEDED.  Tim scoffed at the envelope, “I did not know LexCorp did spam mail.”  

Alfred frowned in consideration, “I do not believe they do, Master Timothy.”  Tim just shrugged and turned back to the computer.  Alfred tutted at him, "Since you deem it to be beneath you, shall I handle this matter for you?”  Timothy didn’t even give him a verbal response, waved his hand in dismissal, matter already forgotten.

---

A text is the third sign.  This may have been the sign that would have actually gotten his attention on a normal night.  Unfortunately, the night of said text was not a normal night.  When he did get the text, Tim barely even looked at the message before dismissing the text as irrelevant to the current situation. The current situation being the alien invasion in Metropolis that will keep Tim business for three days straight, allowing him to completely forget about the text he received.

Money Withdraw Notification

Value - $0.00

Requester - LexCorp International

---

Then there was the phone call.  Tim was actually in the middle of a messaged debate with Luthor when his phone rang.  With half a mind, he had answered it.

“Timothy Drake speaking.”

A bright, chirper voice answered, “Good morning, Consultant Drake.  This is Vanessa Ruthword, Lex Luthor’s secretary.  I do hope you have time for my call.” 

Tim hummed, “Of course Vanessa, what can I do for you?”,  as he aggressively types.

Drake

You can not compare the mobile phone industry to the photography industry.  A phone in a pocket does not a photographer make.

Vanesssa’s cheery voice continues, “I do appreciate you taking the time.  Mister Luthor has expressed interest in arranging a meeting between the two of you to discuss your consultation in person.  I am calling to see if we can find a time at the end of the month that would be convenient to both Mister Luthor and yourself.” 

Tim frowns as Luthor pings him back. 

Luthor

And that was not my intention.  While the quality of phone cameras are advancing everyday, photos taken from a mobile phone are for day-to-day basis, a mundane use.  My comment was only to look at the people’s view of the photography industry in comparison, now that they have an overabundance of photos swarming their social lives.’

Tim answers Vanessa before going back to his message, “That sounds wonderful Vanessa. Are there any specific dates that you had in mind?”  

Drake

Photography has always held an exclusive notoriety for professionals and hobbyists.  With the advancement of mobile cameras, people have embraced this hobby, but they are focusing more on the quantity and convenience that a mobile phone provides, instead of quality.

Vanessa replies quickly, “Would you be available on the 27th, from 10am to 2pm?”  

Luthor

This is what many camera companies are focusing on; trying to bridge this gap from the pocket photographier to the camera photographier.  If they don’t, photography will continue to lose one of its few demographics.  While I know the industry could live off the professional demographic, the problem is that there is a fine line between exclusive and obsolete.  Many camera companies are falling through that crack.

Tim pulls up his calendar, “The 27th sounds great Vanessa.  I’ll put it down.” 

Drake

This is not the venture you want to do with Picture Percent?

“Wonderful, Mister Drake.  We look forward to seeing you here at LexCorp!  Thank you again for your time.  I hope you have a valuable day!”

Luthor

On the contrary, I have no plan at all.  That is why I have brought you on as a consultant.  I am interested to see what someone with a passion and dedication to photography could, and would do with the opportunity to redefine the industry.  I look forward to seeing you on the 27th to discuss your propositions, Timothy.

---

Then there was the gift that showed up the next day.

"Master Timothy, you have a package."   Alfred set the package in front of Tim at the breakfast table; the LexCorp brand displayed dominantly on the sides of the box, as well as the Sender receipt on the top of the box.  The only other occupants of the kitchen, Alfred and Dick looked at Tim expectantly to open the box.  As Tim used the butter knife to cut the tape, Dick scooted down the table bench to sit next to Tim.  

As Tim raised the lid of the box, Tim had expected something more than just a bag of coffee beans with the LexCorp logo, and a small white card.  Dick snatched the card before Tim can, and read the gold filigree quote in a mockingly insightful voice, “‘The best kept secret is the one you can savor.’” 

Dick’s chortle was interrupted by Alfred as he pointed to the back of the card, “Sirs, there seems to be a note on the back.”

Dick turned the card over and read the handwritten note aloud in a mimicry of Lex’s voice, 

 

“Timothy, 

While I make it my duty to supply all my consultants with the state of the art equipment, I know it would be a fool’s errand to try and produce any computer better than what you already have available to yourself.  As such, I can only offer this in replacement.

Lex Luthor”

 

Dick’s voice then turned into mock disbelief, though a real look of hurt spreaded across his face.  He grasped his chest in pageantry, “You are consulting for Luthor?!” 

Tim opened his mouth to refute it, but stopped.  “Technically yes…  But I’m not.. It's not like I’m…”  As Dick’s face contorted into more and more duress, Tim bluntly stated, “I am not working for him.” 

That caused Dick to grin at him, however, Alfred stood up straighter as he grasped his hands behind his back. “Actually, sir….”  

Tim and Dick whipped their heads to look at Alfred.  Dick frowned, his face and voice contorted with innocent confusion, “Actually what?” 

Alfred raised an eyebrow, his voice not losing its cavalier tone, “Mister Timothy has been an employee of LexCorp for the last three weeks.” 

Tim could have heard a pin drop as Dick slowly turned his head towards Tim with a look of disbelief.  Dick’s voice was a stage whisper, fake disbelief on his voice, “You are working for the enemy?!” 

Tim pushed his hand into Dick’s face, pushing him away as he turned back to Alfred, “Ha ha.  Not funny.  There would have to have been a signing of an employee contract, or a background check which requires documentation.” 

Alfred nodded sagely, “Indeed they would need a social security number and a birth certificate.  Which I had sent both when they requested it.” 

Tim’s confident, smug look shattered, to be replaced with horror, “You what?!” 

Dick’s face contorted from glee at Tim’s reaction to his own confusion, “Why would you do that?” 

Alfred nodded in an affirmative to Tim’s outburst, “We had received a letter from LexCorp requesting the proper paperwork to complete Master Timothy’s application.  The letter stated that you already signed the Consultant Non-Disclosure Agreement, which meant you had accepted temporary employment with LexCorp.  I was only to assume you had agreed to said employment, and sent all information that they had requested.”

Anticipating the retort, Tim slapped both of his hands over Dick’s mouth to muffle him, “No.  No, I'm not working for Luthor.  I’m not even getting paid.” 

Dick wrestled both of Tim’s hands away, and motioned to the box, “Yes you are.  In coffee!”  Dick’s eyes went wide in growing concern, his voice joyously traumatized,  “Your greatest weakness!”    Dick then tried to pull the box away from Tim like it was a bomb.

Tim would not consider coffee his greatest weakness.  His brother was a fool to joke about such nonsense…  Tim snatches the box away from his brother, holding it to his chest defensively.  Alfred then cleared his throat, grabbing both boys' attention, “I should hope not just coffee.  I had supplied them with your bank information for direct deposit.”  

With growing suspicion, Tim pulled out his phone and checked his bank account.  An additional twenty-five hundred dollars had been added to his account by LexCorp International the past two Fridays.  Dick peered over his shoulder and gasped, “Twenty five hundred?  A week?! For a consulting gig?  What are you consulting on?  How to get to moon?!” 

Tim tilted his head as he thought, “No, though the pay is about the same.”

Dick lets the humorous atmosphere dissipate; he slowly leaned back in his chair, a considering look on his face.  Then tentatively, he states.  “So you are working for Luthor.” 

Tim also leaned back, coffee gently clutched to his chest, a look of realization on his face as he finally processed everything.  He was actually an employee of LexCorp.  His voice came out a bit airy, “I guess I am.” 

Dick turned his head to look at him, looking for any distress, “You good with that?” 

Tim thought for a second.  He's actually been enjoying everything he's been doing for Luthor.  It was a nice change from his moping boredom.  He slowly nodded, his voice uncertain, “I think I am.”  

Dick nodded and then tilted his head in a smirk, “They going to give you the tour or something?”  

A look of realization spread across Tim’s face, “Actually, I think they are…  I have a meeting with Luthor at the end of the month.”

Dick snorted softly, “Huh…  I guess that means we’re corporate enemies now.”  In a flourish, Dick sat up straighter and grabbed his chest again in a mock show, his face a mask of heartbreak, “Et tu, Timothy?!”  As Tim smiled up at the act, Dick used the distraction to try and grab the bag of coffee again.  Tim easily dodged his grab and rolled under the table before bolting away from Dick as he gave chase.  

So what if coffee is his greatest weakness? 

---

“Consultant Drake. It is a pleasure to have you here at headquarters today!  I have here your employee badge and employee informational pack.  If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will take you to the conference room that you will be meeting Mister Luthor in.”

As Tim follows Vanessa to the elevators, he straightens his tie.  He is not nervous.  He has no reason to be.  He’s already given Luthor multiple consults prior to this.  It doesn’t matter that he’s only now getting paid to do it.  It is not a problem that he’s doing it as a presentation in front of Luthor instead of the usual email. Tim is not nervous. 

But it’s never been about the nerves.  Tim’s problem is deeper, greater, a growing chasm of emotions that have built in his chest since that day that Wayne Enterprises said he wasn’t good enough.  And Tim would be a fool to not realize that the chasm was there.  It’s just, he didn’t realize how big it was.  How close he was to the edge of it.  And he would have been ignorant of it, if he had not heard the words, “So you are working for Luthor.”  

Before, giving Luthor his opinions felt like a hobby, a chat with a friend colleague.  Not a task, a job, a hardship.  But now, as he plugs in his laptop, it finally sinks in that this is the real precipice of his ordeal.  He is standing at the edge of this chasm.  And he has a choice to make.  This is a moment he’s been working for for the past five years.  

And no, it is not the moment.  Wayne Enterprises’ board took that moment and smothered it with harsh words and whimsical requirements.  But this is still a moment.  A moment where all his hard work could still have value.  A moment when it was worth all his time, effort, his commitment.  This is a moment to show his worth.    

As Tim turns away from the screen and looks Luthor in the face, he smiles his best smile.   As he clicks the projector’s remote, his voice is as sure as the morning Gotham rain,  “Luthor, let me show you what I got.”

---

And with the last click, the presentation ends.  Tim turns to Luthor expectantly.  Luthor looks in thought for a second longer before he softly nods his head.  Luthor stands and starts to button up his jacket, his voice warm with satisfaction, “As always, your presentations are exceptionally informative and thoroughly researched.  You have given me multiple venues to consider for Picture Perfect.  I must say I did not expect you to present the option of dismantling the company and focusing on more scientific uses of lenses.”

Tim gives a pained grin at the thought of his favorite camera company getting dismantled just for a higher profit, “It did pain me to do so, but I wanted to make sure you had all your options, even the less favorable ones.” 

Lex laughs a sharp laugh as he walks towards Tim, “That is one thing I admire about you, Timothy. You embrace logic and truth even at your detriment.” 

Tim’s face falls into a pensive look.  The sentence stings, words similar to what he heard often at Wayne Enterprises.  “Some have considered that a weakness.”

Luthor gives Tim a knowing look as he gently puts his hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Ever weakness can be a strength in the right hand.  Don’t let others tell you your worth when they refuse to let you wield it.”  Surprised by the meaningful words, Tim hides his shock by stepping away to pack up his laptop. 

Luthor watches him gather his cords, “As stated, you have given me much to consider.  In return, I have something for you to consider.”  Tim watches as Luthor’s persona falls into place, The Salesman.  His body language relaxing as he gives Tim a confident smile,  “I want you to work for me.’’

Tim stops halfway from sliding his laptop in his bag, confusion clear on his face, “...Don’t I already work for you?” 

Luthor grins as he slowly nods, “I mean permanently.  And not just as a consultant.  I need a manager for some of my projects, the first being this one, Picture Percent.” 

Tim stops, really stops, and considers it.  The idea is not the worst.  Who is he kidding, this would be an amazing oppurtunity.  However, he sighs softly and shakes his head, finishing putting his laptop back in his bag.  “Unfortunately, I can’t move to Metropolis.”

Seeming unperturbed by the statement, Lex’s grin only grows just a little bigger, “You don’t need to.  We live in the digital age.  I have many employees that work from home, from across the country.  You will be doing exactly what you have been doing for me, just more official, more hands on.” 

Tim frowns as he shoulders his bag, “Then why bring me in here today if I could have done this from home?” 

Luthor looks at Tim, his body language open and warm, “I wanted you to see how sincere I am about this offer.”

As Tim looks Lex over, even under the charmingly fake persona, he can tell that the man is genuine in his offer.  But you don’t become a good businessman without playing a little hard ball.  Before he even realizes it, Tim asks cockily, “And what if I have demands?” 

Luthor grins a shark’s grin, a look of satisfaction on his face, a bait taken, “I would be a fool to not consider them.  As long as they are reasonable, professional requests, I will do everything in my power to accommodate.” 

Tim looks again closely, hoping to see if Lex’s demeanor changed.   But nothing’s changed except the cocky optimism that Luthor now wears.  But the thing with sincerity is it can only get you so far, and Tim was willing to bet that even Luthor had a limit.  “I want the truth.”

As Tim expected, his request was not a bargain Luthor expected.  Tim can only watch as Luthor the Salesman changes.  The charming, warm persona that just wanted to make a trade is gone as quick as the word truth leaves Tim’s mouth.  The grin on Luthor’s face morphs sharper, more brittle.  His eyes gleaming with danger.  Luthor’s sales pitch has become a game.  A game where someone is going to lose something cause there can only be one winner. 

And as Timothy looks at Luthor, the Business Man stands up a little straighter, his position one of defense.  Taking in the stance, Tim gets a bizarro feeling that he might actually be the winner in this game.  Because even though Luthor’s tone is as brittle as his smile, and his face is frozen in a look of dark consideration, Luthor still asks softly, “What would you like to know Timothy?”  

The answer falls from Tim’s lips without thought.  Tim didn’t have to think.  Timothy Drake has always believed in the truth, and he has never let anything get in the way of it.  But there is one thing he has never been able to get answers for.  The one thing that has been stripped clean from all of the LexCorp databases he has hacked.  The one thing that he has always wanted to know.

“I want to know about Cadmus.”  

Tim expects Luthor to refuse; for Luthor to deny it.  As far as the Justice League knows, the man has never spoken a single word about Cadmus, in public or private.  And yet, Luthor does neither.  He just nods, like he knew that was the only truth to matter to Tim.  Like he knew that Cadmus has been plaguing Tim’s mind since the day they found Conner.  Like he knew that the unknown truths had been eating Tim alive.

Luthor’s voice is laced with dark admiration, his words carrying an undercurrent of dread, “You drive a hard bargain, Drake.  I’m impressed.”  The atmosphere in the room turns heavy, making Tim feel like he’s trapped with a dangerous predator.  However, a look of consideration crosses Luthor’s face, “Tell me Timothy, do you know the difference between good and bad vs right and wrong.”  

The way he asks the question, Tim is afraid to actually answer but he nods slowly.  Luthor’s brittle smile softens just a little, “As a man of science, I always loved right and wrong.  They are the true black and white.  Either your theory is right, or it is wrong.  The problem with many people is that they think that good and bad and right and wrong are interchangeable.  If you do something good, you are right, and vice versa.  And that is why the Justice League and I are constantly at odds. They believe that good and bad are as black and white as right and wrong, which I can never agree with.  There is a moral grey that they refuse to see.” 

 Luthor doesn’t move at all, but Tim feels like he’s suddenly closer than before.  As Luthor continues, his words cause Tim to frown, “But Cadmus.  What happened at Cadmus wasn’t that I was bad, or even morally grey.  The reason I don’t talk about Cadmus is because it is proof that I was wrong.  I did something wrong.  They say that the truth will set you free. But Timothy, I know this truth will weigh you down, a burden you have no right to carry.  It will drown you in the regret of knowing.”

Even through the weight of the situation, the heavy warning that Luthor gives, as Tim looks at Luthor, he realises that Luthor hasn’t refused to tell him.  Instead Luthor is giving him an out. 

But Tim has never been afraid of the truth before.  Tim looks Luthor in the eyes with conviction, “I still want to know.”  Luthor looks him in the face, searching for one ounce of doubt, the smallest reason to deny him.  Not finding any, Luthor nods slowly, and his demeanor changes once more.  But instead of the Business Man, or the Salesman, the person left standing in front of Tim is a sad, tired-looking man weighed down by failures of life.

Luthor slowly unbuttons his jacket once again, and sits down, motioning Tim to follow suit.  Feeling like he’s in the twilight zone, Tim does, slowly putting his laptop bag down.  Luthor sits back into his chair with his hands held in his lap.  “Timothy.  I want you to work for me.  I think you have great potential.  I know that trust and truth are important to you.  So I shall tell you about Cadmus.  But first, would you please tell me what you know first.” 

Feeling like it was a trick question, a way for Luthor to word his answer around Tim’s knowledge, Tim frowns, though answers truthfully if not a little clinical, “Justice League investigated a fire that broke out in one of LexCorp’s labs, Cadmus labs.  Inside, they find the whole lab an inferno, all data wiped prior to the fire.  The only found survivor was Kon-El; aka Conner Kent.  Medical examination confirmed that Conner was a rapidly aged clone hybrid of human and Kryptonian DNA, confirmed matches to yours and Superman’s.  

“The Justice League’s main speculation that you were trying to clone a Kryptonian to fight Superman.  However, there is no proof, and too many inconsistencies in what little we were able to find about it.  Truthfully, we probably wouldn’t have even found Cadmus if it wasn’t for Superman’s suspicion about your multiple, long-term disappearances.”

Again Luthor nods, like all the information matched with his.  He sighs softly, “I understand it will be hard to believe, but I wasn’t trying to clone Superman.  I wasn’t trying to do anything at all that time.”  Before Tim can question him, Luthor gives him a sad brittle smile, but his tone sounds like he’s telling a poorly timed joke, “At that time, the only thing I was doing was dying.”

Tim takes a breath, the answer he wasn’t expecting tried to fit into the puzzle in his head.   However, the information feels like it belongs to a completely different picture. Before he can consider tact, he blunts out, “Of what?” 

Luthor gives a half-smile, the edges shaky as one of his hands raises to rest on his chest, “My heart was failing.”  He drops his hand before he repositions himself in his chair, getting more comfortable, “Of course, with my money, my power, it wasn’t hard to find a new heart.”  A far off look crosses his face as he stares into the distance for a moment; his voice pitifully kind,  “They said her name was Lucy Reynolds.  A thirty-two year old mother of two.  She had died in a car accident, declared brain dead.”  

The fact that Luthor knows that information, her name, makes Timothy realize the morbid reality of what Lex said.  However, before Tim can even process the morbid mood,  it is gone as Luthor turns back to Tim, his voice losing the softness and gaining a matter-of-fact tone, “Took my doctor two weeks to realize my body was rejecting that heart.  Doctor Wren said that it wasn’t just a normal heart rejection.  The meteor, the one that made me bald, made me sterile, made my body weak and frail.  That meteor had altered my DNA to the point that it wouldn’t accept another human’s DNA.”

At dawning horror on Tim’s face, Luthor raises his hand in a slow, stopping motion, “I’m sure you can see where this is going.  But that wasn’t my intent.  My only intention was to live.  Without a human heart in my chest, I was tied to a cold, mechanical machine that pumped my blood for me.  Isolated from the world for fear of compromising my already weak immune system.   I was dying.  I was barely living.  I wasn’t thinking.”  

The pieces of the puzzle fall into place in Tim’s mind, forced violently into place by the harsh truth.  Tim could tell where this was going, but he had to ask, he had to know for sure, “What did you do?” 

Luthor gives a self-deprecating smile, his voice a half-hearted mockful boast, “A cattle call.  A call-to-arms.  I told every one of my medtech and bioengineering companies to find me a solution, to find me a heart.  A heart that would survive my corrupted DNA. A heart that would not succumb to my Kryptonite-tainted DNA like my original heart did.  I gave them free reign to save my life.  No questions, no codes, no budget. I thought as long as they saved my life, it wouldn't matter..”

A look of pure self hatred settles on Luthor’s face as he gives Tim a self-deprecating, bitter smile, “The reason I don’t talk about Cadmus, the reason I purged every piece of data of Cadmus, isn’t because that I was covering my tracks, that I did something bad .  I did it cause I was wrong.  I was wrong, because there are worse things than death.”  

Luthor takes a slow deep breath, and as Tim looks on, he sees the imperfections of a broken man.  Where earlier today, where Tim felt he was standing on a precipice, at the edge of his own devastation; as he looks at Luthor, he sees this man has fallen into his own devastation a long time ago.  But the thing about men that have succumbed to their failures so long ago; there are no raw emotions, no crying for forgiveness.  No screams for revenge.  There is no redemption.  There is only cold, bitter acceptance that there are horrors you have done that you can never fix. There are wrongs that can never be righted.   

And that is when Tim realizes he was wrong too.  He didn’t want to know this truth anymore.   For any truth that can make this powerful, dangerous man look this broken, this shattered, this unconsolable.  That was a truth Tim doesn’t need.  But before he can do anything to stop the inevitable, Luthor gets the same faroff look as before, but this time his voice sounds broken and withered, like it's the last breath he expects to have.  Like these words will be his last, the words that will haunt him to the afterlife.  And as he hears them, Tim knows they will haunt him too.  

“They said his name was Eon-El.”

Tim’s heart stops.

“The first to survive past infancy.”

Tim's breath catches in his lungs.

“My fifth son.”

A tear escapes down Tim’s face as the grim truth reveals the puzzle, the picture of horror that Luthor’s words reveal.

“I woke up from a six-month coma with my son’s heart in my chest.”

Tim feels like there is a hole in his chest.  

The thought of the life lost, so many lost lives, causes Tim to clench his fists in an attempt to keep himself together. 

Tim knew, he logically knew that any attempt such an advanced form of science like cloning would have failures.  But it was an abstract idea, a logical expectation.  But logic can no longer protect him when he hears that these failures were living beings, babies, sons .  And as it sinks in that Conner, his best friend, wasn’t the first success.  That Conner had brothers that died.  That Conner had a brother that lived long enough just to be-  

Luthor’s hand claps down on his shoulder, pulling Tim from his spiral of thoughts, allowing him to gasp a breath he was missing.

And that is when Tim realizes Luthor was right too. Tim is drowning in this truth.

With frantic thoughts and the need to think about something else, he blunts out the first thing that was on his mind, “And what about Conner?” 

Luthor’s look is full of melancholy and remorse as he gives a worn out shrug, “There was nothing I could do.  I had just woken up from a six month coma, muscles in atrophy.  I had been tied to a machine for two years.  I was recovering from my third heart surgery.  I didn’t have the strength or resilience to breath, let alone fight for my son.”

Hearing the heartbreak in Lex’s words, Tim realizing that maybe Lex is drowning too.  With gentle care, Tim puts his hand over Lex’s in solidarity.  Lex squeezes his hand, continuing to talk softly, “By the time I was well enough, and could finally walk again, it had been another six month.  It was too late to do anything.  He was already integrated into Young Justice and found a home for himself.”

With his free hand, Tim finally wipes away the tear that had rolled on the edge of his jaw.  As he sniffs, he suggests, “You could still reach out.  Talk to him.  He acts like he doesn’t care, but he does. He would like to talk to you.  That is… if you still want to be his dad.” 

Luthor nods without a delay, voice full of conviction.  “I do.”  The conviction tapers off quickly, his voice turning somber,   “But what would it look like if I did reach out to him.  Now, after all this time?  I know what the League thinks of me, and they would never let me near him if they thought for a second I was being nefarious.”

Before Tim can refute it, which he knows he’d be hard pressed to, Luthor continues, his attitude a little lighter as he smirks, “I do not see a single way that would go well.”  His words turn thoughtful as he considers such a meeting, “Truthfully, I don’t even know what I would say.  I don’t think I could look him in the eye knowing that I caused him such trauma.  Knowing I didn’t fight for him.  Knowing that I have his brother’s heart in my chest.  I don’t think I could survive it.”

Tim hums softly, “You survived this long... I’m sure meeting your son won’t be what does you in.” 

Luthor looks at Tim with a intrigued look, “You believe that?” 

Tim thinks for a second before nodding, “Yes.  I know you will do the right thing when the time is right.  You seem to be doing that a lot lately.” 

Luthor gives Tim a small, gracious smile, “I appreciate your vote of confidence.  If the day comes I can talk to Conner without incurring the wrath of the Justice League, I promise I will do my best.”

Tim gets up and shakes the tension out of his limbs, “So, about the job offer...”

Luthor’s look turns contemplative at the quick, intentional topic change.  With a knowing smile, he asks, “Will you consider it now, after everything?” 

Tim nods solemnly, “Yeah I will.”  Tim then gives Luthor, a small, but warm smile, “Just means we both have something to look forward to.”

Notes:

Woof. And I thought Jason's chapter was in the feels. But damn, when I was tweaking the Conner story in my head, I didn't know I would be whooping my own emotional ass.

Is it weird that when you read this, I wanted it to feel like y'all got kicked in the chest? Cause that's how it felt when I was writing this.

But this had to be done. Conner is going to show up in a few of the later chapters, and we need the ground work. Its going to be great. It's going to be happy, comfy closure.

As always, comments are always welcome and appreciated! Especially after this heartache. Love me please. I love y'all! <3

Chapter 13: The Help

Summary:

Help and tea time do mix!

Given all evidence, Bruce will admit that Lex and he are friends.  But in the changing dynamic of their relationship, there are some things that haven’t changed; things that are starting to concern Bruce.  

Prior to their friendship, Bruce had accepted certain posturing whenever Bruce and Lex would meet.  While not always the same, the introductions always seemed to have the same interactions. They would greet each other and Brucie would force Lex into an awkward hug.  While he allowed the hug, Lex would always be the one to push away.  And then, without exception, Lex would ask with a tone professional yet stiff with aggravation, “What do you need, Wayne?”

However, now that they are friends, that behavior hasn’t changed.  While the greetings have gotten less snippy, and the hugs less awkward; every time they meet, Lex still asks dourly, “What do you need, Wayne?”  

Bruce isn’t upset by the behavior per say.  Bruce has considered that the standoffish behavior has continued as a means for Lex to grasp familiarity when dealing with their new, changing situation.  However, what really concerns Bruce is that while he can accept Lex’s continuing behavior, now that they are friends, he can’t stop himself from taking advantage of the situation.  

“What do you need, Wayne?”  

Bruce needs a lot of things.  When he is stuck in any situation where he is Brucie Wayne, he will take anything he can get.  And now that he has another person in the same social circle who knows about his night activities, Bruce finds himself easily wrapping Lex into his plans.  And so when Lex asks, Bruce answers truthfully.  

“What do you need, Wayne?”  

The surprise is that Lex always seems to accommodate every single one of Bruce’s requests, not refusing a single one.  And the more Lex gives, the more Bruce takes.

---

“Lexie!”

The hug is only awkward this time because Bruce has the birthday girl, sweet old Ms.Colt’s arm hooked in his.  Lex pats Bruce’s back as he steps away, but his face indifferent, “What do you need, Wayne?”  

Bruce’s face lights up in a grin at the expected question, “I need you to tell Ms.Colt about the Tol Sides thing?  The initiative?  I wasn’t really paying attention to what Perry was saying, and thought you could do our hard work better justice.”

And without a second thought, Lex offers his arm to Ms.Colt, taking the old woman’s arm and attention away from Bruce so he can slip away. “Of course.  Ms.Colt, the Sol Tides Conversation is going to be a turning point in our expansion into a better tomorrow...”

---

“What do you need, Wayne?”  

It’s a wedding, an extravagant one at that.  But with the dance floor empty, Brucie bats his eyes at Lex, making sure his pout is sincere and hopeful, “Dance with me?”  

That causes a look of curious consideration on Lex’s face, “And here I thought you stopped asking me all those years ago because you got tired of me telling you no.”  

Bruce smiles softly as he grabbing Lex’s hand and gives it a playful tug, “I thought today you would indulge me.”  

And Lex does.  He stands up and walks Bruce to the dance floor, wrapping his arm around Bruce’s waist.  

The married couple had chosen a four string quartet instead of a DJ, so Lex falls into a waltz to accompany the orchestral piece and Bruce follows his lead.  Once they are in motion, Bruce leans in close, voice serious as he commands, “Spin me into the fellow in the green tux near to the dance floor.”  

Lex just nods gently as he starts to turn them in that direction.  His voice is just as serious and quiet, “And what did he do to earn this treatment?”

Bruce sees the man in the corner of his eye and prepares for Lex to spin him out, “He has something I want.”  And then Bruce is in motion, being whipping away from Lex, and in forced clumsiness, he falls into the man.  In a flurry of motion, Bruce grabs the knife from the man’s belt, sliding it up his jacket sleeve, motion unseen through his waving hands and fake platitudes.  Just as quickly, he turns back to Lex and opens his arms to resume the dance position.

“Where were we?”

---

“Bruce.”

Subtly inspecting the gala crowd, Bruce almost misses Lex sneaking up on him.  Instead, Bruce wipes around and almost miss-balances into Lex, a smile on his face, “Lex!”  Instead of hugging Lex, Bruce loops his arm around Lex’s neck and leans against his front.  He even slouches a bit so he can look up at Lex, in hope that his batting eyes would have a better effect.

This time, Lex sounds put upon, “What do you need, Wayne?”  

Bruce’s smile turns a little sly, but his words come out quiet, stiff and clinical, “I need you to make a scene.  A loud one.” 

Lex seems unperturbed by the request, nor by Bruce draping across him.  He only looks up and scans the room.  The only thing he asks is, “When?”

Bruce unwraps himself from Lex and pats his chest.  Once again, his serious words don’t match the playful look on his face as he whispers, “Fifteen minutes.  1900 on the dot.”

And with that, Bruce walks away.  He casually starts to make his way up the grand stairs so he can look down upon the crowded ballroom below him.  He is stopped by a few of the other guests, so by the time he is in position, there is only a few minutes left.  He scans the crowd to find Lex.  Instead of being in the center of the room, Lex is leaning against the back wall away from everyone.  He looks up at Bruce and gives his glass a gentle shake at Bruce.

Before Bruce can even be disappointed with Lex’s indifference to his request, Bruce notices three key points.  One, Lex is holding the cocktail glass upside down.  Two, he is holding the glass with a napkin wrapped around the stem, his fingers not touching the glass.  Three, there is no open bar tonight.  Only champagne flutes have been given to the guests.  

Bruce snaps his eyes to the center of the room, where next to the beverage table is a pyramid of cocktail glasses intended for display.  From the second floor, Bruce is unable to see where Lex had taken the glass, however the integrity of the pyramid seems unaffected by it.  However, as Bruce is looking at the pyramid, the old grandfather clock in the room chimes the 19th hour, and the reverberations echo throughout the room, making all the glass in the room rattle in place.  Especially the tower of glasses, where the lack of the missing glass now spelled its destruction.  

Instead of watching the pyramid of glass fall, Bruce looks across the crowd, watching as everyone reacts to the loud, crashing sound of shattering glass.  Or almost everyone.  With a grin and a wink at Lex, Bruce turns around and subtly activates his ear com, “Oracle, it seems that Ms. Jackie Collins is suffering from temporary hearing loss.  Inform the League that we identified the bomber.”

---

Since then, their hugs started to become less hugs and more of Bruce leisurely draping himself over Lex, resting his head on Lex’s shoulder in a look of mock intimacy, allowing them to talk to each other in candid.  A convenience at this political gala.  However, Lex still asks his question, now whispered in irritation at the extra weight Bruce seems to be putting on his shoulder,

“What do you need, Wayne?”  

Bruce asks like he’s asking the weather, “How’s your back today?”

Lex gives a curious look but answers truthfully,  “My back is fine.”

Bruce smiles mischievously, “Then catch me.”  And with flair, Brucie squeals loud and terrified, jumping in the air, using Lex as a vaulting point.

And Lex catches him, one arm bracing Bruce’s back while the other scoops Bruce’s legs out of the air.  Caught in Lex’s arms bridal style, Brucie points to the ground in exasperation, “Spider?!”

As expected, everyone in the room looks towards the commotion, those nearby instantly stepping away.  And in the corner of his eye, Bruce sees Dick sneak into the backstage.  

“I swear I saw something!”

---

When Bruce finds Lex at the Children’s Hope Charity, Lex is sitting at a table by himself.  When Bruce sits down next to him, he’s exhausted to the point he can barely keep his Brucie persona on.  And when Lex asks the question, Bruce feels like the last string of resistance is cut.  He slouches sideways until his cheek hits Lex’s shoulder.  “Wake me up in fifteen minutes?”

And Lex just wraps his arm around Bruce, pulling him tighter against his side, shoring him more securely for his impromptu nap.  

---

Bruce is in Paris for a multitude of things.  However, to keep up appearances as to why Brucie would be in Paris, he is currently sitting on a far-too-fancy, petite restaurant's open balcony.  As the waiter sets down the final tray of petite foods on the low coffee table in front of him, Bruce sees out on the street a recognizable figure.

Bruce grabs his phone and sends a text.

Wayne

Why are you in Paris?

He sees Lex stop and check his phone, then casually, indifferently look around the street.  Since he’s unable to spot Bruce, Bruce’s phone pings.

Lexie

Why are you in Paris?

Bruce can feel a smile spread across his face as he replies.

Wayne

Look above you! :P

With the hint, it doesn’t take Lex long to spot Bruce above him.  Bruce waves and smiles friendly, shouting down to the man, “Fancy meeting you here!”  

And even in an unusual setting, in an unlikely meeting, Lex gives a small smile and asks all the same, “What do you need, Wayne?”

Bruce huffs in fondness as he beckoning Lex up, “Come up, join me for tea!”

Lex tilts his head in consideration before checking his watch.  With a slight nod, he replies, “How could I turn down such an offer.”  And with that, Lex heads to the restaurant’s entrance.  A few minutes later, as he walks onto the empty balcony, Brucie is already standing to greet him.  As they hug, the waiter that followed Lex replaces the kettle with a different one and leaves in silence.

As they sit, Bruce fixes Lex a cup of tea, “So, what are you doing here Lex?”

Surprisingly, a look of disdain crosses Lex’s face before it quickly vanishes, “Working.  The boring, bureaucratic kind.  You?”  

Having let Lex into so many of his plans, Bruce doesn’t even hesitate as he hands Lex his cup, “Investigating Conduire D’or Corp.”

As Lex takes the cup, a look of exaggeration crosses his face, “Did Pierre Martin unearth another magical artifact while fracking?”

Bruce picks his own cup up and shakes his head slightly, “No, he died.”

Lex pauses mid sip in surprise.  After a second of consideration, he says thoughtfully, his face sincere, “I’m surprised I haven’t heard.”

Bruce nods, “Car accident.  They haven’t publicly announced it because they expect sabotage.”

Lex smirks knowingly, “Martin had many enemies, I’m not surprised.  And no enemy greater than his eldest daughter, who I am to assume now runs the company?”

Bruce hums as he takes a sip, “You are correct. And many do suspect her.  However, I just talked to her and I don’t believe she did anything.  In fact, I believe she will soon be a victim herself.”

Lex’s words are curious, his eyes lit with interest, “Someone going through the whole Martin family?”

Bruce shakes his head, “No, I believe Pierre’s death was indeed an accident.  But upon inheriting one of the world’s biggest oil companies, Ms.Martin has since received multiple threats from her siblings and board members against her intent to reform the company into a green energy company.”  Bruce pauses in thought, his words soft, “She did a very good job about hiding it, but that woman is terrified.”  

Lex hums thoughtfully, “A good-hearted environmentalist surrounded by rich, power-hungry sharks.  They will eat her up alive.”  Lex takes a second to take another sip before asking plainly, “‘What are you going to do?”

Bruce leans back with a quiet sigh, “Still thinking on the best approach.  Unfortunately my options are very limited.”

Lex nods, “I doubt you can help her.  Conduire D’or Corp is too big of a company, any help you give would put you in the spotlight.  You would do best not to risk it for just one girl.”

Bruce frowns in disappointment, “And just let her die by the hands of her kin and kind?”

Lex gives Bruce a knowing smile, his tone playful, “On the contrary, I was going to offer help from someone that has never shunned the spotlight.”

Bruce sits up a little straighter as he gives Lex a suspicious glare, “ You would help?”

Lex leans back with a Cheshire grin, motioning one of his arms in a flourish, “Haven’t you heard?  I’m trying to change the world.”  His smile curls even more at Bruce’s disbelieving look.  “You don’t believe me?  Even after I donated billions to ocean conservation?  Who would doubt me if I turned my attention to green energy?” 

Bruce starts to muse as he considers it, “You have been moving more and more of your companies green.  And you did change your company’s mission statement to include a ‘greener tomorrow.’’  Bruce tilts his head in consideration, “If you took her in, no one would dare touch her in fear of incurring your wrath.”

At that Lex frowns, his voice frank, “I did not say I would protect her.  I have no intention of taking care of her, or talking to her for that matter.”

That causes Bruce to pause mid sip, confusion and disappointment warring on his face, “Then what is your plan exactly?”

Lex smiles knowingly at Bruce, “My plan is to move forward with my green energy initiative.  Make an announcement to the world that I am looking to evolve the energy industry.  I intend to specifically call out all the oil and coal companies.”

Bruce looks disbelievingly at Lex, his voice flat with incredulity, “And you think that would be enough?”

Lex’s smile turns sharper, more vicious.  Luthor the Corporate Man comes through, his words drip with venom and foreboding, “Of course.  Times are changing Bruce.  Oil and coal companies are burning through resources we don’t have anymore.  They must learn the best way to survive these changing times is to change now before it's too late .  And I will tell all of these companies that if they don’t embrace the new way of the world they will be sure to crash and burn .” 

As the emphasized words echo in Bruce’s brain, he feels a fascinating horror overcome him as his face goes slack.  His words come out in a shock, muted surprise, a ghost of a whisper echoing his epiphany, “You would have everyone believe you killed Pierre Martin.”

Lex gives a fake look of confusion, “Is that what you heard?”  His face turns thoughtful, but it still looks fake around the edges of his sad smile, “People assume the worst things about me.” Lex takes a second to take a sip of tea, and over the edge of his cup Bruce sees his smile turn up as he gives Bruce a snarky reply, “How inconvenient that it adds such needed weight to my decree .”

Bruce thinks of what Lex’s statement could do, the outcomes that could come from it, and he frowns thoughtfully, “Threatening all the oil companies would upset the stock market.”

Lex nods knowingly, “Indeed.  Seeing the inevitable, people will want to resettle their money for more green focused companies, away from the oil and coal companies.  Lucky for Conduire D’or Corp, they are the only oil company to have the benefit of having an environmentalist as an owner.  I’m sure their stock would survive quite nicely.”  

The final piece in place, Bruce sighs softly in realization, “And no one at Conduire D’or Corp would want to kill their golden goose.”  Bruce takes a sip as he looks Lex over, thinking about the devastating plan he is offering to put into motion.  “That is a dangerous gamble.”  ‘Brilliantly dangerous’, Bruce can’t stop himself from thinking.  Bruce continues, “Why do any of it?  I fail to see why you would go through all this trouble for just one person.”

Lex holds up one finger to stop Bruce, and gives him the exact same knowing smile from before, his tone correcting, “On the contrary.  I would willingly go through all this trouble for just one person.”  Lex then motions his cup at Bruce in a cheers and takes a sip.

Bruce blinks.  And before he can properly process what Lex is suggesting, the question comes out of his lips disbelieving and confused, “ Why ?”  

But Lex doesn’t answer.  He pours himself another cup of tea, and asks nonchalantly, “Bruce, why have you never asked me how I found out you were Batman.”

Bruce stiffens at the topic change.  He takes a slow, deep breath and releases it, then decides to accept the change, “I assumed that I slipped up somewhere.”

Lex hums as he takes a sip.  Lex then seemingly changes the topic again, though Bruce knows that he is being played with, “You remember that Spring Flora charity you hosted years back, where all the tables were decorated with different flower types?”  

Bruce answers curly, “Yes, I had you assigned to the lily table.”

Lex gives Bruce a cynical look,  “Which I found quite suspicious, cause lilies happened to be my favorite flower.”  Bruce hums, but Lex continues, “And I had asked you how you knew.”  

Bruce pauses.  Bruce stops.  Bruce has spent years controlling his expression, yet he can’t stop the look of confusion across his face.

And all Lex does is give him a knowing smile as he points at Bruce’s face, “ And you gave the exact same confused look.”  Lex then asks simply, “Bruce, how do you know what my favorite flowers are?”

Bruce knew this was going to be a dangerous conversation, but he feels like he’s stepped into a trap.  Because this is an answer he doesn’t know.  He knows with conviction that lilies are Lex’s favorites.  But he can’t for the life of him recall where he learned that.  

Not wanting to show his dysphoria, Bruce tries to answer confidently, yet the tail end sounds more like a question, “Educated guess?”

Lex shakes his head fondly, “Educated guesses require knowledge or experience.”  

Bruce racks his brain for the answer, but is still unable to come up with the answer.  In a forced attempt to cover up this weakness, Brucie comes out, easily waving his hand, trying to dismiss the awkward tension, “I’m sure it's come up in conversation over the years.”

Lex looks Bruce dead in the eye, his words coming out committed and serious, “No, it hasn’t.”  And the smile is back, the edges curled with satisfaction, “And you know it hasn’t.”  Lex then takes pity on Bruce, and in a second, the tension disperses as Lex’s tone comes out scientific but friendly, “Your first mistake was you knew things you shouldn’t know.  You knew what my favorite flower was.  But what really got my attention was that you didn’t even know you knew that.”  

Lex leans back as he continues, “After the Spring Flora, I started to consider that there was more than meets the eye when it came to Brucie Wayne.  I started reviewing all the times that I had ignored Brucie Wayne, all the times I could have overlooked something important he knew.” Bruce frowns as he considers the years it has been since then, at the thought that Lex Luthor had been observing him that long.  

Lex can see the disappointment on Bruce’s face and gives a small smile, “Trust me, it was a herculean task.  By being Brucie, you have done yourself a great service.  Ignoring Brucie Wayne is one of the easiest things I have ever done.  It is like his very presence causes my brain to refuse to acknowledge or process any thing he does.  And when he finally leaves my presence, I always seem to fail to remember anything that occurred.”  Bruce tries to take comfort from the compliment, but it does little to alleviate the seriousness of the discussion or its implications.  He motions for Lex to continue.  

Lex gives a nod and moves on, “That said, once I knew what to look for, it was easy to see the teeming knowledge that Brucie Wayne possessed.  Some knowledge was common knowledge, easily found and easily known.  But the fact that Brucie always knew everyone’s birthdays was still astounding on its own.  But there were other things, things that Brucie Wayne wouldn’t have known, some things that no one else even knew either.”

Curiosity gets the better of Bruce and he asks, “Like what?”

Lex doesn’t delay, “The time Mr. Walters was unwell.  He was shaking and very disoriented.  You had handed him a piece of cake and told him the sugar would put a pip in his step.  Only for Mr. Walters to ask how you knew that he was diabetic? Then there was that night where every time someone offered Mrs. Taylor a flute of champagne, you whisked it away from her.  Until the point her coworker confronted you, only for Mrs. Taylor to sheepishly admit that she wouldn’t have drunk them anyways since she just found out she was pregnant.”  

Bruce can feel his face contort in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing, which Lex points at and says, “Both times, you gave that exact face.  A face that even Brucie Wayne could not cover up.  You truly looked confused that you knew that information.”  Before Bruce can comment, Lex puts up a hand and replies, “I could think of many reasons this could be the case, but the first thoughts I had were; either you were clairvoyant, a meta of some kind.  Or, Brucie Wayne was beyond noisy and/or ignorantly hyper vigilant.  I instantly refused the first thought.  If you were a meta, Brucie Wayne would not have hesitated to reap the benefits, fame or likewise. 

“But the second theory, the second theory I could test. And so I did. I started staging things that I thought would grab your attention, but not your interest.  And as you said, eventually you slipped up and I thought I was able to prove the theory.  Brucie Wayne was ignorantly hyper vigilant.  He was absorbing information, paying attention to the smallest detail, but was having problems internalizing it.  Even information that would be deemed irrelevant his mind unknowingly held onto it for later reference.  But it was in the test that your truth came out.”

Bruce waits with bated breath for Lex to finally get to the point of this conversation; how he was able to prove he was Batman.  However, instead of revealing the means to how he found out, Lex’s shoots off a list of questions.  The quickfire questions surprise the answers from Bruce’s lips before he can even process them, before he can even realize he doesn’t know the answers.

“Bruce, why do you always invite me to your Charity Art Auctions?”

“You oil paint.”

“Why did you stop asking me to dance with you at every event?”

“You have back pains.”

And how did you know I’d want the chai tea today?”

That last question causes Bruce to pause just as the smell of cinnamon wafts into his face.  And with the scent, everything clicks into place.  Bruce sighs disappointingly, his voice defeated, “Your office.”  

Lex looks coyly at Bruce, “What about my office, Bruce.”

Feeling he wouldn’t get away without telling, Bruce lists off his until-now unconscious observations.  “Your coffee cup always smells of cinnamon.  Your chair has an advanced lumbar support.  Your keyboard has a smudge of oil paint that hasn’t been removed.  You always have a lily bouquet on your desk.”

As Bruce thinks the information over, he realizes that Lex was right.  He had absorbed the information, but deemed it irrelevant.  Until it wasn’t.  He just wasn’t able to see the information connect with the situation.  Surprisingly, as disappointing as the idea was, Bruce found himself more distressed at the idea that all the knowledge could be fake.  With a bitter clipped voice, he replies, “I see.  So is none of that true?”

Lex gives him a concerned look, his voice earnest, “They are all very true.  While I was testing a theory, I didn’t feel the need to lie about who I was.  I only needed to emphasize it more.”

Still processing everything, Bruce grunts, “And that theory was enough to figure it all out?”

Lex nods, “It wasn’t much of a jump to figure out. Why would hyper-vigilant Brucie Wayne be snooping in my office, and enough times to pick up on the subtle?  A hyper-vigilant Brucie Wayne with the Prince of Gotham’s love of his home city?  A hyper-vigilant Brucie Wayne with childhood trauma and the physically fit body of a martial artist?”

Bruce feels numb.  All the years of hard work was foiled by his own mind.  Bruce feels disappointment and bitterness at the realization.  And the question that’s been plaguing Bruce since December, since the day after the Gala, stumbles from his numb lips, “If you knew all this time, why didn’t you do anything?”

Lex shrugs, his face indifferent, “I did.”  At Bruce’s questioning look, Lex gives him a look of consideration, like he’s about to tell a painful truth, but something that needs to be heard.  

“It’s true that I could have done a million things with that knowledge.  I could have destroyed Batman; his identity, his name, his respect.  But the worst thing is I could have destroyed you.  And it would have been easy, because you are just as flawed as the rest of us.  But your defeat would not be in a big showy fight of power and might, but in the quiet of your own mind.  

“I could have wielded your biggest strength against your greatest weakness.  A mind that takes in so much information, it compartmentalizes without thought.  I could have gaslighted you. I would just need to feed your subconscious with just enough false information that you would start to question your own mind. Over time it would destroy you.”  

Bruce sits in horror as he hears one of the most dangerous men in the world talk so earnestly about his demise.  Talk about his own mental collapse as if the idea isn’t the worst thing Bruce has ever heard.  His mind has always been his greatest strength, and to not be able to trust it causes Bruce’s lungs to stiffen in fear, his vision to tunnel in terror.

But then a hand reaches out and grabs his hand, cold fingers thread through his, pulling him to the present.  As he slowly looks over at Lex, he sees a look of earnest, imploring Bruce to listen.

“But Bruce, that never even crossed my mind.  Every time I fought Superman and the Justice League, it wasn’t about just getting revenge or getting rid of the League.  It was about showing the might of mankind.  Show that we didn’t need gods or aliens to defend us.  And if we could take down these very gods and aliens that could easily rule over us, we would be able to survive anything the universe threw at us.  

“That we, the human race, were good enough, we were strong enough to survive.  We were not the weakest link in the universe to be protected or disregarded or culled.  Through our might and our minds, our perseverance and our technology, we would be respected.  

“And what respectable man would have willingly destroy one of mankind’s greatest minds?  You might fight alongside the very gods and aliens that I resented, but you were still one of us.  

"Everyday you have shown that mankind has the power to protect the world.  And it wasn’t through might or technology.  You used the things I considered mankind’s greatest weakness, and you wielding them like weapons.  You used compassion and empathy. You befriended the most powerful beings in the universe.  You made gods and aliens your allies, you convinced them to protect mankind.  And for them to protect us not out of pity or control, but in the simple, honest truth that it is the right thing to do. 

“Because of that, instead of wanting to destroy you, I wanted to do everything in my power to help you.  You are mankind’s best defense because you understand our strengths better than I ever could.  But more importantly, you also understand how utterly flawed and frail we really are.  When it just takes one question, one theory, one idea to destroy the truths in our head.”

Bruce sits in the silence, stunned at the speech.  As he takes it in, he starts reviewing everything he knows of Lex Luthor.  All the interactions they have had.  He tries to decipher any and all his hidden motives, reviews any false information that Lex might have fed him.  Anything to prove that this man is a threat that he could be. 

And like a flood gate, moments in the past start coming into focus as Bruce sees them in a new light;  times when Lex had ridiculed Bruce to reporters for his horrible timing and fickle fancies, times when Lex intentionally showed things or left things in plain sight as if a trap, times Lex didn’t push Brucie away but instead let him stand too close.  

Bruce rattles off his realizations, voice laced with shock, “Your berating was really given excuses for Brucie’s absences.  You wanted me to take your watch.  You intentionally left the keys to your Maserati in front of me that night."  In the silence around them, the words come out like a revaltion,  “You have been helping.”

Lex gives Bruce’s hand a squeeze and then let’s it go.  With his voice and face sincere, he replies, “I have.  And I will continue to do so.  So, if you need me to, I will go on live television and threaten the oil industry. I will willingly upset the stock market and I will intentionally let people think I murdered a man.  If that’s what you need.  It’s the least I can do for a friend.”

And with the clarity of a gunshot, Bruce startles with surprise.  Like a thousand grains of sand getting blown away, everything he knew about Lex Luthor is blown away to reveal a picture beneath, the irrelevant truth that he’s been seeing but not processing.  And the words echo in his head, the herald to his realization.  

‘What do you need Wayne?’

Bruce looks at the man beside him in utter awe, his words hushed and disbelieving, “You have been offering to help for so long…”

Lex just gives a small, self-deprecating smile, “As men of action, I knew no words would be convincing enough.  But for you to take my actions seriously, I knew I also had to be patient and persevere.”

Bruce thinks that over and frowns, “You’ve wanted to be my friend, even before the Gala.  You had stopped fighting the Justice League.  You stopped flinching at Brucie’s manhandling.  You stopped shutting Brucie down when he babbles.” Then in shock, Bruce looks sharply at Lex,  “You let the Gala kiss happen.”

Lex shrugs with a smile, “We all have a part to play, Bruce.  And if I needed to stoop down to Brucie’s level for my actions to be seen, then so be it.”

Bruce nods, and in the silence, he gets swept up in his thoughts.  He has to review everything he knows.  Because, in this moment, he feels like he doesn’t know enough.  He feels like he doesn’t know anything at all.

And so they sit.  A soft calm falls over them as they pour another cup of tea.  And Bruce processes.  He reviews.  Almost a half hour later, one of Bruce’s thoughts takes form and breaks the silence, “Lex, how many of the rumors of you killing people were you just taking advantage of the situation?”

Lex looks up from his phone, and makes eye contact with Bruce.  His face and voice serious, “Quite a few times.  I have always used everything to my advantage.”  Lex trails off, but then sighs, like he’s about to talk about the elephant in the room.  “But most of those rumors aren’t just rumors.”  Like he expected, the atmosphere turns solemn at the reminder that Lex Luthor is not a righteous man.  

Bruce sighs.  Of late, it’s been easy to ignore that fact.  However, now they are talking about their... This.  Whatever this is. Lex's words seem like a glaringly harsh truth being ripped from a wound.

In almost a confession, Lex’s tone turns soft, laced with regrets, “I know that my convictions have cost lives.  And while many were at my own mistakes, some were at my own hands.”  Seeing the furrow of Bruce’s brow, Lex can only continue, not to justify, but to explain, “I know you think it is one of man’s greatest flaws to value ideals greater than we value lives.  But that’s what I did.  That’s what I do.”  Lex looks at Bruce considerately, “I don’t expect us to see eye to eye on ideals, but I do believe in what you are doing, and I will do everything I can to help you Bruce.  I believe that you are the means to my ideals.”

Bruce considers the offer, what it represents.  He asks in a condescending tone, “Even without bloodshed?”

Lex nods softly, his voice filled with conviction, “Yes.  This conversation should be proof that while my ideals haven't changed, my methods have.  These changes are proof that my ideals have only become more focused.” 

Bruce frowns, "You really believe that?  That you've changed that much?"

And Bruce finds himself believing Lex's sincere answer, “Of course.  How are we suppose to change the world if we don't allow ourselves to change?”

Notes:

So, this chapter was not what I had planned at all. This was going to be very different. However, when I started writing, Lex came out and decided that he needed to be more manipulative, and just as sneaky as Bruce, so there you go! The Lex in my head really is a evil bad guy, he likes to monologue a lot! Woof! JK, I love him. :3 #TheLexLife

I hope y'all liked this chapter! It messed my chapter timeline up cause it got things rolling faster than anticipated. Next chapter is gonna be good, as in some of the League is going to show up! :D

Please leave comments! I live for them; they make me happy, witty, and writty! :D
Thanks for reading!

Chapter 14: The Experiment

Summary:

Science Experiments and Kryptonite do mix!  

Notes:

I hope you like this chapter, cause it was super fun to write! It's synopsis was just 'Science!', and I didn't even write an outline cause one late late night, I spent three hours lying in bed just thinking of how this chapter needed to go. I just got to write what was in my head, one sentence at the time!

The Justice League is made up of the most powerful people on earth, each with their own unique powers and skills.  However, most of the members are still humans, prone to the ordinary, run-of-the-mill illnesses and mental wear and tear of normal life.  Should a member become unwell, the rest of the League will do everything in their power to assist them, from covering shifts to covering bills.   However, there is one group of members that will always put the Justice League on high alert should they encounter even the slightest illness.

When your body can burn up to a thousand calories an hour when your immune system is fighting a common cold, if a Speedster so much as coughs, the Justice League knows about it.  When an unexpected sneeze can cause you to tumble through the timelines, if a Speedster has the slightest sniffle, the Justice League knows about it.   When a mental relapse could make you want to go back in time and change the timeline, if a Speedster has even a slightly bad day, the Justice League knows about it. 

So, on a fine August morning, in the middle of making his morning coffee, when Barry Allen starts to hum a nameless tune, the Justice League knows about it.  

Humming in itself isn’t exactly the issue.  Barry tends to hum songs often.  Even if he didn’t have his powers, the man is a ball of energy, and humming is one of the many ways he expels said energy.  The issue this morning is his humming has a reverberation to it, one that crackles into Barry’s mic like the sound of the Speedforce.  And it sounds like an issue.

There is a process if a Speedster has an issue .  The members on duty that notice the irregularity must first report to Batman.  Once Batman is brought up to speed, the three members will summon the Speedster to see if they can nip the issue in the bud.  

As such, when the Flash zips into the meeting room to face Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, he pauses in concern before slowly sitting down next to Wonder Woman.  As he looks at the serious faces on his comrades, he tilts his head in concern and confusion, his words slower than normal,  “So.. What did I do?”

Wonder Woman gently puts her hand on his arm reassuringly, her face calm and sincere, “Hopefully nothing Barry.  We just want to make sure you are well.”

Realizing it is a wellness check, the Flash chirps up, smiling bold with sincerity, “Oh, I’m great!  Things have been going top notch!”  

Wonder Woman smiles warmly at the happy response, though she tips her head in consideration, “That is wonderful Barry.  But do you remember humming earlier?” 

The Flash nods repeatedly,  “Yep, no worries! I do that all the time.  I was humming this morning cause I-.”  He stops mid sentence, a look of realization spreads across his face as he sits up a little straighter, “Cause I hear humming.”  

Batman asks briskly, “Right now?”

Nodding slowly, the Flash looks around as if seeing something the others can’t, his face curious, “The Speedforce is humming.”  He looks back at the team as his face morphs into one of excitement, “I’m going to find it!”  Before anyone can stop him, he is gone in a flash , only a trail of lightning is left in his wake.  

The trinity all share concerned looks at the rapid, reckless behavior of the Speedster, some more exasperated than others.  However, before they can even formulate a response plan, another flash of lighting lights up the room.  The Flash is back in his chair, the same curious look on his face, “Do any of you know the company Livefire?”

Batman tries to keep his sigh muted, but in the quiet of the room, the breath causes the other three to turn and look at him. Batman tries not to frown but it seems impossible. It's going to be one of those days.

“Livefire is a subsidiary of LexCorp.”

Superman and Wonder Woman both share a look of concern, but the Flash’s face is thoughtful as he replies, “Well, the company's main building is the source of the humming.  Even next to the building, whatever they are doing doesn’t feel like it’s actually affecting the Speedforce.  Just resonating with it.  Truthfully, the only thing it feels like is nostalgia-y.  Is that a word?  ...It’s my word now.”  

Superman frown deepens as he speaks a voice of reason, “Just because they aren’t messing with the Speedforce now, it could be a preliminary test for something worse.”  

Wonder Woman nods in consideration, “So, what is the plan?”

Batman rattles off the usual responses with a deadpan voice, “We could infiltrate for information, though there is the chance we would find out the cause and its effect too late.  We could storm in there, but we don’t know what experiments are going on in there, or if it's a trap.”  The others expect these two options. However, today Batman deviated.  Today, Batman suggested a never-before suggested option.

“Or we call Luthor and ask.”

The third option causes the other three to openly stare at him; Superman’s concerned surprise is clearly written on his face, where the Flash and Wonder Woman’s faces are more interested at the new prospect. Wonder Woman grabs her chin softly, tilting her head in consideration, “Do you believe he would be truthful and tell us what he is working on?”  

The Flash follows up quickly, “And we could just believe him?  Unless he’d willingly show us what he is working on.”  His face then warps in excitement at the idea, his hand raised up as if volunteering, “We should ask for a tour!  I want to go!”  

Wonder Woman gives the Flash a fond, warm smile, “Since this involves the Speedforce, I do believe your presence would be necessary.”  

Superman clears his throat, pulling everyone’s attention, “That is to assume he even takes our call.  And if he doesn’t cooperate, he will know we are looking into it.  He could shore up his defenses, or even relocate the project to another location.”

The Flash shrugs, “Not like he could really hide it.  I mean, anyone with access to the Speedforce could find it.”

Batman interrupts before Superman can continue to protest, “Let’s vote.” As the leader, Batman refuses to vote on a League matter unless he is a tie breaker.  As such, he looks expectantly at the other three, “Who’s in favor of calling?”  

The Flash’s hand is in the air faster than the Speedforce.  Superman crosses his arms in defiance to the idea.  The final voter and the tie breaker, Wonder Woman considers the situation thoroughly.  She taps her chin as she thinks. After a few seconds, a spark of a challenge shines in her eye as a little mischievous smile lights her face.  She firmly raises her hand as well.  The Flash instantly high fives her raised hand, while Superman looks upon her with a look of bewilderment.

Batman nods at the vote, and uses the table’s console to pull up Luthor’s number.  The Flash looks on in awe, stage whispering to Wonder Woman, “How did he get Luthor’s number?”  

As the sound of ringing echoes throughout the room’s speakers, Batman gives the Flash a deadpan look.  The Flash raises his hands, his voice mimicking, “Alright, then.  Keep your secrets, Gandalf.”

Superman’s chuckle is interrupted by the phone being picked up.  Luthor’s stern voice echoes in the room, “I am currently busy.  I don’t know how you got this number, but I do hope this is an emergency.”

The room stills as everyone turns to Batman to reply.  "This is the Justice League.”  The silence that follows would make someone think that Luthor had hung up on them, except for the soft, continuing crackle of lightning in the background of the call.  After a second, the silence is broken by the sound of a knuckle rattling glass, followed by the lightning noise dies down.  

The Flash perks up, and whispers loudly while pointing downwards, abstractly gesturing as if the Livefire building was directly below the Watchtower, “The humming stopped.  I think he’s there.” 

The silence falls over the call.  Eventually, Luthor’s voice comes back over the line, his tone firm but disappointed, “What do you need, Batman?”

Batman shallows a sigh of…  Relief?  Satisfaction?  Unsure what he is exactly feeling, he answers just as firmly, “The Flash had detected an anomaly in the Speedforce this morning, and has verified that the source is your subsidiary Livefire.”

Out of all the answers that Batman was expecting, the soft, stupefied answer wasn’t one of them, Luthor’s tone loose with awe, “That’s unexpected.”

The rapping of glass is heard again, quickly followed by the dulled snap of a marker being uncapped.  Over the sound of a wet marker squeaking on glass, Luthor starts talking again.  However, his voice is muffled, his tone indicating that he was talking more to himself than the League, “We did not anticipate the energy interacting with the Speedforce… For it to only start today..."  He stops and then his voice gets clearer, as if he put the phone back to his face, "Would the Flash be willing to explain the precise details of the anomaly?"

The Flash excitedly leans over to the table to talk into the mic in the center, “Sure he can!  I mean, yes I can!  I’m the Flash, in case you can’t tell.  I’m sure you could.  Probably cause I’m talking too fast.  Am I talking too fast?”

The Flash barely waits for Lex’s answer before he continues, “Anyway… awkward introductions out of the way, the anomaly!  So, whatever you are doing, it’s definitely, but subtly, interacting with the Speedforce.  But it’s not like, ripping a hole in it or other things that are bad.  This is different.  It’s like, resonating with it.  Your ...thing you are doing, it’s like causing the Speedforce to hum.  Which I don’t think it is bad.  In fact, it’s like a subtle little catchy tune.  It makes me feel all nostalgia-y…. It’s nostalgic!  That’s the word!  I knew that.”

Even over the phone, the League can hear the revelation in Luthor’s soft reply, “Nostalgic.  What a keen descriptor to use.”  The sound of walking is heard over the line, then the sound of a door opening.  Luthor’s voice sounds muffled again, like he put the phone to his shoulder, “Doctor Endo, I have an alternate theory to suggest.” 

A single clap is heard, small and petite, before a soft-spoken, formal voice follows.  The speaker’s words bear an undertone of happiness and excitement, her voice carries with it the lithe of the East, “Doctor Luthor, I would be honored to hear your new theory.”  

And as the League listen to Luthor explain the Speedforce anomaly to Doctor Endo, they all stare at each other in wonder.  Luthor’s words are filled with barely contained excitement and wonder as he emphasizes the nostalgia that the Flash referenced.  Batman tries to think if he had ever encountered Luthor when he was working on a project;  if he ever met Luthor the Scientist.  

Unable to recall a single time, Batman focuses as Luthor tells his theory, “If the Flash’s description of nostalgia is correct, my new theory is that it is not just the energy we need, but we also need this resonance with the Speedforce.”  Luthor’s voice fills with committed passion as he finishes, “The Speedforce to recall a remembered position, and the energy to form it.”

The same soft clap is heard, and Doctor Endo’s calm but joyous voice replies, “A very innovative theory.  If this theory is just, it would mean the alteration to input we made this morning caused a frequency that made our energy attune to the Speedforce.  With your permission, I would honorably request the Flash’s presence.  I foresee his own attunement of the Speedforce a boon; an expeditious addition to identifying the correct frequency, and to understand the true effect.”

The Flash almost scrabbles over the table to get as close to the mic, “I’m in, I’m there!  I don’t know what you are doing, but I’m doing it!  Do I just knock, or can I just bzzzz right in?”

Batman motions to Wonder Woman to pull the Flash back to his seat.  He is softly but firmly pulled into his chair.  The Flash looks up at Batman’s disappointed frown and cowers, “Of course I would wait for his permission…”The frown deepens.  “And yours.”  Superman clears his throat, causing the Flash to look at him and see the disappointed look Superman is giving him.  The Flash sinks further into his seat, his voice timid, “Everyone’s permission?”

Luthor’s voice distracts them, “It seems your request has been enthusiastically accepted, Doctor Endo.”  There is the sound of the phone being pulled away from fabric, and then Luthor’s voice comes in clearer and loud, commanding in tone, “You will come through the front entrance.”  His tone softens slightly, sounding a little put upon, “I understand that the Justice League will want to take precautions.  How many should I tell the receptionist to expect?”

Every League member is taken back by Luthor's easy acceptance to the Flash, and the League, entering his labs.  Batman has to stop himself from shaking his head.  He looks around the room, and motions with his hand to..show he's accepted this weird turn of events? To give permission? 

The others take it as permission.  The Flash raises his hand lightning fast, which causes Wonder Woman to smile fondly as she also raises her hand.  Expecting a trap, but wanting to be there for his comrades, Superman slowly raises his hand as well.

Batman nods and tells Luthor, “Four.”

Luthor’s deep sigh is heard as he replies, “Very well.  We look forward to seeing you here at Livefire.”

---

When the four enter the big and brightly lit lobby of Livefire, they are instantly greeted by a bubbly receptionist, who hands each of them fully-laminated guest passes with their pictures and names on them.  The Flash looks at his as he loops the lanyard over his neck, “Now that’s just showing off, having these made so quick.  Did they just google us and pick a pic?”  Batman frowns down at the receptionist’s held out hand until eventually the man realizes that Batman isn’t going to take the pass and leaves them alone.  Batman then grunts, “He had them made prior.”  

Wonder Woman looks at Batman curious as she pulls her hair through the lanyard’s cord, “Do you believe he had reason to?”

Batman grunts, “No.  But he didn’t know which four of us were coming.”

Before anyone can answer, a set of doors open in the back of the lobby, and a petite, young Asian woman in a lab coat comes out.  As she spots the group, she walks to them, her steps having a soft, flowy gait.  She comes to a stop in front of Batman, and then claps her hands together and does a full respectful bow at the waist, “Greetings, Justice League.  I am Doctor Akane Endo.”  As she straightens back up, she smiles sincerely at them as she motions to the door she came from.  “Welcome to Livefire.  Your requested presence is greatly appreciated.  Please follow me to my lab.”

She leads them through a series of white and chrome hallways until she directs them through a set of doors.  The lab inside is a small room lined with machines, each with their own apparently different use.  However, the machine in the center seems to be the foci, as some of the other machines have cables running to this main machine. The main machine looks to be the power generator for the energy they were working with, notably with two small conductor rods built onto a top section of the machine.

At the back of the room is another smaller room made with tinted glass walls.  Through that room’s door, Luthor comes out to met the group.  However, before Luthor can even open his mouth, Superman speaks with clipped, bitter words, his tone dark with disappointment and resentment causing the whole group to stop in trepidation.  “Luthor, why is this generator shielded with lead?”

It is Doctor Endo that answers, her words still calm and professional as she gives a slight bow, “Superman, you are honored guests here. For that, I will not lie.”  She gestures to the machine calmly as she straightens, “The energy we are generating is using Kryptonite as the source.”

Superman turns his attention to the small woman, but his words are still brittle as he asks through clenched teeth, “Why?”

Before she can answer, Batman raises his hand to interrupt, his voice curious as he repeats Superman, “Why?  When I reviewed the properties of Kryptonite, the expected wattage that could be created by it would be dozens of times weaker than any of our other electric sources.”

Doctor Endo bows slightly at Batman’s knowledge, “You are correct.  Our intent is not to find a more powerful energy source, but a more precise energy.”

Superman opens his mouth to respond, but Batman beats it to him, his tone firm and unforgiving, leaving no room for excuses.  The one question all Justice League members would ask. “Is it dangerous?”  

Luthor joins the conversation, his voice equally firm, “No.”  He looks Superman in the eye, conveying the truth with a firm tone of sincerity, “If it was dangerous to anyone , I would not have continued with the project.”  

Always feeling like any interaction with Luthor is a battle, any word is either a weapon or a ploy, Superman challenges him before he even thinks his words through, “Prove it.”

With a nod, Luthor turns the generator on. With a brilliant flash of green light, lightning jumps to life between the two conducting rods.  But unlike the harsh, jerky movements of normal electricity, this green energy has a very slow, leisurely arch to it.  It slowly, playful twirls as it stays in motion, connecting the two rods with an emerald dance of electric power.  Everyone looks to Superman expectantly, watching and waiting for any sign of discomfort or pain.  

After a minute and not seeing one, Batman turns to the machine, a glint of invested interest in his eye as a thousand questions formed in his mind, “That would mean you made Kryptonite’s radiation non-ionizing to Kryptonians.  Was that a process before or during the electric conduction?  Would you be able to adapt that to other radiations?  Do you have-”  Luthor cuts him off, and he and Doctor Endo start to answer Batman’s questions with Barry listening in with fixated attention, throwing in his own questions.

Superman just stands there watching the green lightning dance between the metal rods, a look of confusion on his face.  Wonder Woman walks up to him and gently puts her hand on his arm to gently move him away from the machine to give the scientists space.  Superman mindlessly follows her, still watching the lightning until she stops them close to the nearest wall.  He looks up at her, his face a little lost, his voice quiet and unsure, “That is not what I expected.”  

She smiles kindly and loops her arm through his, gently hugging it to her, “Today has been full of surprises, yes?”  

He nods numbly as he looks over to the scientists.  He watches them for a while, trying to follow their current conversation.  Eventually, he sighs and says to Wonder Woman, “Truthfully, I don’t understand half of what they are saying.”

She hums knowingly as she watches Barry try and cover Batman’s mouth so he can get a question in, “Does not mean you can not enjoy the moment.  We don’t get to see this often.”

Superman frowns at her in confusion, “See what?”

Not taking her eyes off the group, she shakes her head softly, “Batman.  He looks like he is having fun.”

Superman looks back over just in time to see Batman scowl at Luthor.  Batman’s voice is accusingly, “You mean to trigger muscle memories.  To what purpose?”  

But having been best friends with Batman for more than a decade, Superman can see the spark of mischievousness in his eyes, a light uptick of a smile on his lips, the barely concealed excitement of a challenge.  

And Superman watches as Luthor just gives a smug smirk, refusing to concede to Batman, “You will have to read my next thesis once I prove this first theory.”

Before Batman can retort, Doctor Endo gasps as she gives her signature single clap, her hands clasped in front of her.  Everyone looks over at her.  She looks positively excited with a strong dash of concerned.  Following her line of sight, everyone freezes.  The Flash had stuck his hand in the green Krypton lightning.  

Like before, they wait to see any negative effects.  Not seeing any, they all take a slow breath and watch as the Flash plays his hand through the lightning.  Except, his hand-motions all seem random, firm, and sporadic, each a very specific, common hand motion.  He lapses from a peace sign, to a fist, to a hand shake, to holding a pencil.  

As the motions continue, Luthor steps closer, “First, Flash, I want you to look at me.  That was beyond reckless.  If you plan work in my labs again, you will adhere to all of our safety precautions.”  

The only thing the Flash catches causes him to light up, “I get to work in your labs again?”

Luthor ignores him, continuing in his tirade, “Second, are you doing these motions intentionally?”

The Flash turns his attention back to his hand as it makes the Vulcan peace sign, “Nope, it’s doing it all on its own.  This is what you want right?  This muscle memory recall?”

Luthor doesn’t answer the Flash, already shoots off orders to Doctor Endo as he heads to the back room to grab equipment, “Make sure our recording devices are running.  We need an additional camera to gather just the hand motions.  We need to find the reason he is going through these movements.  Are they the most common?  Or Most recent?  I doubt we could get a thorough enough history to compare these motions to, so we will have to find a means to verify it.”  

Batman’s voice cuts through Luthor’s talking, “We can help with that.”  

Luthor stops and looks at him.  Batman is unmoved, just says in an all-knowing voice, “Anything a Speedster does, the Justice League knows about it.”

Having access to the Justice League’s super vigilant observations of the one person that has just exponentially sped up his research causes an earnest, bold smile to spread across Luthor’s face.  Barely able to contain his excitement, he motions to Batman to follow him into the back room, while instantly asking what type of records he would have access to.

With the Flash being barraged with questions from Doctor Endo, Superman continues to look over the room with a growing sense of dysphoria, like the world he knew was slowly tilting sideways.  

He turns to look at Wonder Woman in hope of guidance in this bizarro situation, “This.. This is weird, right?”

She tilts her head in consideration, “We have seen weirder.  Though truthfully, this is a nice change.  It would be nice if all our interactions with Luthor were this nice.”

 Superman frowns, “This is… nice-ish.  I wish it didn’t involve Kryponite.  Or handing League surveillance over to Luthor.  But..”

She gives him a knowing smile at his considering words. Her words are soft when she replies, “But you trust Batman.  He would not have let this happen if he thought there was a real threat.”

Superman nods slowly, “But, just because this one time turned out well-ish..  Doesn’t mean the next one will.  This could be an anomaly… Or a ploy.  It would be foolish to let our guards down.  ...But what if he…”

Superman’s words die down in thought as he watches Luthor slaps the Flash’s hand away from one of the machine’s nobs.  

Superman turns to Wonder Woman again, his tone of a lost, confused boy that doesn’t know the world he lives in anymore,   What should we do?”

Wonder Woman smiles sincerely at him as she pats his arm, her own voice a warm, motherly voice of reason, “Do what Batman would do.  Hope for the best.”

Superman looks back at the group, and slowly his face gains resolve.  As he stands up a little bit straighter, his words come out with cynical disappointment, “Plan for the worst.”

 

Notes:

Oh no, Clark?! What's the worst that could happen?! MWHAHAHAHAHA~

Finally, I get to add the #ScienceBros! tag. :) :3 :D. And there is more Science were that came from!
Disclaimer: I am not a scientist, I do not know Science. We are not friends, nor acquaintances. I just googled things until my brain went, 'Yay, you can wing this.'

I love the Justice League, so I hope this was a good mix of what we all love, with a little of what you would expect! I actually really loved the Justice League movie, so I definitely based Barry Allen after Ezra Miller's. What a quirky little awkward nerdling. And of course, Gal will always be my Diana. :3

And when I was writing Endo, my brain kept thinking Marie Kondo.

I hope this chapter sparked joy! As always, please leave a comment!

Chapter 15: The Lost Son

Summary:

Questions and truths don’t mix. 

Most of the Justice League does not know Batman’s identity.  And in the beginning, that was how he wanted it.  He felt that due to his fame and money, it would be easy to figure out the Dark Knight’s identity.  As such, he put an extensive amount of effort to prevent people discovering it.  

Batman would not lie that he was paranoid.  The people that he chose for the Justice League were powerful beings, and he wanted to make sure that they would not be threats or vulnerabilities to the League, Gotham, or himself.  As such, he kept his secrets close to his chest.  

But through years of working with the League, he learned to trust them, and they learned to trust him.  To the point that Batman knew that his identity no longer mattered to them.  However, in a show of trust, and to prove his own theory, he had offered to tell them.

He had first approached Wonder Woman and Superman.  They had quickly become his closest friends, and Bruce had finally felt confident after so many years of working together, they would be the first he would offer.  

Wonder Woman had smiled fondly at him and gently grabbed his arm in one of her hands, “Batman.  You are one of my most trusted allies.  I never needed to see the man behind your mask, because I know him.”  She had then put her other hand over his heart, “This man here is a brilliant, ferocious warrior that I gladly follow into war.  I do not need to know a face to know a heart.”

When he had offered to Superman, the Man of Steel had gotten a little teary eyed, his voice joyous, “B!  That’s such an honor!”  He then wrapped Batman up in a hug, before he put him down in a haste, “I need to go tell my mom!”  The hardest smile he had to fight, Batman had stopped Superman with a gruff, deadpanned, “But you don’t actually know yet.”  Superman had stopped before smiling his blinding smile, “It’s not about knowing. It’s about you trusting me to know!”  And with that, he was gone. 

Of course, when it came to telling the Flash, Batman knew what to expect.  The Flash was flustered.

“Oh,  oh no!  That’s, like, a lot to handle…  Can I not know instead?  I vote for that.  I know me, and I like talking, alot..  Like..So much!  Things are not safe with me. I mean secrets!  Secrets aren’t safe with me, not, like, people and things!...  Can I go now?”

Aquaman had just stared at him, gave him a good hard look, then raised an eyebrow, “Does it matter?”  Batman just stayed silent.  Arthur shrugged, “You’re our leader.  You get shit done.  That’s all I need to know.”  And that was that.

Batman didn’t need to tell the Green Arrow.  The thing with being people of the same circle, the same high-class society and the same money, you tend to act the same.  So when two outcast, attention-getting personas see each other, they can see what the other's mask hides.  It’s easy to see the fake smiles, the sharp muscles and the hidden scars.  And when you see your own reflection in that other playboy, philanthropist millionaire’s smile, it’s hard to miss.   And with the grace obtained surviving in the same high-class society, it becomes an unspoken gentleman’s agreement.  'Your secrets are my secrets.'

The last person Batman told, he knew it would be too late to tell.  For, in the beginning of the Justice League, in a drastic display to show the importance of secret identities, Batman had openly admitted to knowing, and then ridiculing the rest of the League’s secret identities.  Some took it better than others.  The Green Lantern was not some.  

So when Batman finally sat the Green Lantern down to offer, he expected the laughing.

“Now, you want to tell me now? After all this time?  You have got to be shitting me.”

The Green Lantern laughed again, long and hard.  Eventually, he gathered himself and shook his head at Batman, his smile rueful and a little bitter, “Gods dammit.  When you first pulled that shit with us, revealing that you knew all our identities.  I was pissed, Bats.”  His voice raises in an act as if to shout his contempt to the heavens, “I was fucking furious!”  He looked at Batman and stabbed his finger at him, ”It felt like a fucking invasion of privacy.  And you didn’t even give us the courtesy.”

With that, the steam seems to leave him as he leans back in his chair, letting his head hang over the top of his chair.  Finally, softly he whispers to the ceiling, “Gods, you're such a prick.”   

Batman waits him out, knowing that Hal’s feelings tend to come and go.  After a few minutes, in a tired, defeated voice, the Green Lantern decides, “I don’t want to fucking see it.”  With that, he sits up and looks at Batman with the clinical eye, “I’ve learned a lot about masks since then.  I know that not all masks are easy to see.  I know that scariest mask I’ve seen is when a foe can wear the face of a friend.    

“But the biggest thing I’ve learned is that it's those without masks that are the most dangerous.  When you have nothing to hide, nothing to lose, when you lay it all out in a defiance against everything, for all to see.  Letting the world see who you really are.”  And given the same, sharp look, he points at Batman, “And for you, Bats, that is not right now.”

His face turns resolved, his words heavy and dripping with venomous promise, “The day I see you without your mask, it will not be over trust, or comradery, or a fucking obligation.  Because back then, we all knew that you valued that mask more than you valued our kindness, our friendship, or our trust.  So, no.  When I see your face, it better be for something that fucking matters, something that matters more than our lives.   

“Because I can say now, without a shred of doubt, you have always valued our lives more than you have ever valued that mask.”  The Green Lantern’s vicious tone turns sharper, ringing more truth in the air around them,  “And I’m banking on that, Bats.  Because when the day comes that you do show your face, show your true defiance to the world, I will know our fucking lives are really on the line.”

With that, he stands up to look down at Batman, “So keep your mask, Bats.  We are nowhere near done.  And when we are, we may not go out as friends, but you better damn believe we will go out together.”  

And with the last member of the original Justice League declining, Batman’s identity was a closed book.  

Of course, whenever a new person was brought into the League, it always seemed to come up.  It got to the point that whenever you needed an icebreaker to start a conversation, you’d just have to ask, “So, who do you think Batman really is?”

And it’s true that whenever someone seriously suggests Bruce Wayne, it seemed convenient that either Brucie Wayne would do something extravagantly ridiculous, or Batman and Brucie Wayne would be seen at the same time at different parts of Gotham.

But still, over the years, Batman expected that eventually he would slip up, that someone in the League would make the connection.  That a League member would see through the persona, see a connection, find one odd truth that resonated through both Batman and Brucie Wayne.  

Bruce expected that eventually someone in the League would come knocking.

So, in the early morning of September, when the door of his bedroom balcony gave a light rattle of a knock, a balcony that could only be reached via meta or magic abilities, Bruce had assumed that a League member had finally come calling.  He got out of bed, put on a bed robe, and walked over, ready to face the music.  

But when he pushed back the curtains, he was surprised.  He was stumped.  He is staring at the best, yet most difficult thing that has ever happened to the Justice League.

Kon-El.

---

Since the day he met him, Bruce’s heart ached for Kon-El.  He had to sit back and watch as this poor boy had to learn how to live in the real world while also living in the shadows of both of his fathers.  The shadow of the most powerful, yet most selfless man in the world.  The shadow of the most prominent, yet most dangerous man in the world.  And as these shadows loomed over Kon-El, instead of drowning in their wake, this poor boy fought.  He fought for his right to survive.  He fought for his right to be accepted.  He fought for his right to be loved.  

And that fight made him angry and aggressive.  That fight made him bitter.  Like a defense mechanism, the moment someone questioned or doubted him, his anger would rear itself, showing that there were no weaknesses to be found.  This child made into a man lived in the constant fear that if he didn’t fight and defend himself, no one would. Because no one did, especially the people that should have.  

But Bruce wanted to.  He yearned to take this child in, to teach him what he wasn’t taught in the cold facilities of a lab. To show him the love and affection he deserved.  Like Cassandra, Bruce wanted to take Kon-El and show him what a real family could be.  

But like many of his kids, Bruce didn’t adopt Kon-El because Kon-El had parents.  And while one was awol, Bruce expected Clark to be what Kon-El needed.  The parent that would show the ropes, both in life and in his powers.  And Kon-El expected him to as well.  Kon-El would not have accepted another.  He wanted the man that looked like him, the man that shared his powers, the man that’s DNA made his.   Kon-El wanted his father.

Yet Clark let both of them down.

Kon-El was the most difficult thing that has ever happened to the Justice League because of that one decision, that one choice, lines were drawn.  Lines that separate those that thought evil was nature versus nurture. Lines that separate the belief that parental responsibilities lied in blood and moral obligations versus consent and circumstances.  Long, unforgiving lines that divided best friends.  

The first year after Kon-El’s discovery was the worst Batman and Superman’s friendship ever faced.  Yet in that year, Batman did what he could for Kon-El, as a mentor and as a leader.  However, he never crossed the line as a parental figure.  It was a long year, where there were nights Bruce cried in frustration at the stone-faced resolve of his best friend.  And the night Clark finally admitted his shortcomings, Bruce cried in broken relief.  

And while Clark and Conner’s relationship isn’t a perfect one, they have found a compromise.  One that has grown over the years to the point that Bruce believes that Conner can finally feel that he fits in the life that was given to him.

But none of that resolve has ever removed Bruce’s desire to help Kon-El, to protect him.  So, when Bruce sees Kon-El on his balcony, he knows that no matter what this young man wants, Bruce will do anything in his power to help him.

---

Bruce slowly opens the doors, trying to fall into his Brucie persona, which was easier than expected as the confusion shows clearly in his words, “Superboy?  What a surprise?!  Weren’t you just in Tibet?”  Bruce points at the bedroom tv, though it is currently off. 

Superboy lightly touches down on the balcony and softly nods, “Yes I was.”

While Bruce would never openly admit this, one of the things he enjoys about Conner is that even after all these years, he still seems unable to channel more than one emotion at a time.  While many of his emotions, and the transitions between them, can seem rough and even aggressive to some, Bruce is never in want to know what Conner is feeling.  By the slight hunch of his shoulders, and the barely visible defensive position he is standing in, the slight furrow of his brow as he stares at the balcony floor in consideration.  Superboy is unsure.  Not unsure of why he is here, but unsure on how to proceed.

And one of the many things Brucie Wayne is good at, it’s moving a conversation along.  Bruce casually leans up against the balcony door frame, but splays his arms open in a welcoming gesture, his voice cheerful, “So, what can I do for you Superboy?  I’m assuming this early in the morning it’s important?”

Still staring at the floor, Superboy nods slowly, “I.. think so.”

Bruce nods sagely, as he gives Superboy a slight eyebrow wiggle,  “So, is it money?  Most people only come to me for money.”

This causes Superboy to jerk back in surprise, his whole attitude changing into one of affronted concern, though his defensive position is still in place, “Money?  No.  Why would I need money?”

Brucie’s shrugs with his arms in front of him, “Who doesn’t need money once in a while.”  He gives Superboy a thoughtful look as he tilts his head and tapes his chin with a finger, “Though usually if a League-ee needs money, don’t y’all just talk to…  Don’t we have some liaison type doing the middling?  What was his name... Taylor?”

Superboy’s voice is unsure as he answers, his eyebrows scrunching up, “Trevor?”

Bruce snaps his fingers in affirmative, “Right, Trevor.”  Intentionally playing up the moment, he then frowns, twisting his lips in a sneer, “Trevor?  Is he still the liaison?  I thought we fired him.”  

Like a switch, Superboy’s whole attitude changes.  He finally stands up straight, his shoulders stiff as he crosses his arms.  His face is heavy with a disappointing frown, and he unknowingly starts to levitate an inch off the ground.  With a firm tone that leaves no room for debate, he states heated, “We like Trevor.”

Completely unphased by the aggressive show, Brucie just pats Superboy’s arm as he smiles a too big, fake smile at him, “I’m glad the old boy is working well for everyone.  How about I give him a raise for all his hard work?”

Superboy’s aggression flows into confusion at Bruce’s nonchalance of the whole situation.  His shoulders lower and his crossed arms fall against his chest, his voice almost whiny in confusion, “That’s not why I…  I mean, I’m sure that …”  And then the confusion is gone, and the firm stance and serious face that takes its place makes Bruce smile brighter.  Superboy is finally determined on what brought him here.  

“I came here to ask you some questions Mr.Wayne.”

Bruce widens his smile, “An interview?  Why didn’t you say so, old chap?  Would you like to come in?”  Before Superboy can answer, Bruce waves his hand in front of himself to dismiss the idea, “It’s a wonderful morning, we can just do it here on the balcony!”  He sweeps past Superboy out onto the balcony.  

Superboy’s confusion is but a flash before awkwardness takes over, his words unsure, “Okay..”  

Bruce leans against the balcony railing and motions to Superboy, “So, what would you like to know?”

Superboy’s determination is back, his face and voice firm, “I want to know about Lex Luthor.”  

Of course Bruce knew that.  He understood that the moment Brucie Wayne became friends with Lex, that it would only be a matter of time before Conner came to him, in search for information on his other, more allusive father.

Bruce gives Superboy a quizzical smile, “Lexie?” 

The nickname brings the confusion back, before the determination slams back in place.  “You are friends, right?”

Bruce nods, “Yep.”   He then contorts his face into a look of humorous disbelief as he shrugs with his hands, “Surprising, right?  He used to be such a stiff fuddy duddy.”

This causes Superboy’s face to light up with curiosity.  He leans a little closer and asks in earnest, “Can you tell me about him?”

And Bruce’s heart sinks.  He knows that all the information that Superboy would want, needs to hear, would not be anything that Brucie Wayne would actually know.  So Bruce debates with himself; should he tell Kon-El what Brucie would know, mere outlines and illusions of the real man underneath, or should he say nothing at all.   Either way, Kon-El would be leaving this conversation very disappointed.

In that moment, in that delay of his answer, something must have gotten past his mask because Superboy’s whole demeanor changes.  It changes to a look that Bruce hasn’t seen in years.  A look that breaks his heart.  

Superboy carries his disappointment like a worn, weighted blanket.  His shoulders curl as if to protect him from the cold, his head lowers and his face looks far too old and tired.  His words come out sad and wistful, “Nevermind Mr.Wayne.  It doesn’t really matter.”

The soft, fragile words knock into Bruce like a weight.  The force causes the Brucie Wayne persona to fall away. And what emerges in its place is the protector.  The bleeding heart. The reason Batman fights for the defenseless.  The reason Bruce Wayne adopts the lost and broken. 

Bruce the Parent’s heart had broken for Kon-El.

Bruce latches Conner’s wrist with one of his hands, preventing the boy from flying away, even as he is already three feet off of the balcony.  Bruce’s voice comes out soft and kind, imploring the young man to listen, pleading for Kon-El to hear his sincerity, “Conner.”

The sound of his name causes Conner to freeze midair.  He slowly looks down at Bruce, his uncertainty striking the disappointment away. Conner’s uncertainty manifests with his fears and concerns, especially when he’s afraid he can’t control his emotions or strength; especially when dealing with civilians.  And as he stares at Bruce’s hand, he seems to freeze, afraid to move; a self-conscious bull in a china shop.  His question is just as stiff as the rest of his body, though it tapers off incomplete, “How do you..”

Bruce just smiles gently, giving the smallest tug to bring Conner back to the balcony.  His words were just as sincere as before, “Why don’t you stay for breakfast.  There is something we would like to tell you.”

Conner’s uncertainty ramps up into straight fear, his eyes widening.  Before Conner can question, or flee, the bedroom door opens, the sound carries with it the sound of slow footsteps.  The two both look into the room to see Tim walk into the room, looking intently at his phone.  Absorbed with his phone, Tim fails to notice them out on the balcony.  Instead, he stops at the foot of the bed and apparently addresses the pile of blankets, “Wake up B.  Alfred won’t serve breakfast without you, and I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

Bruce smirks and clears his throat to get Tim's attention.  This causes Tim to whip around to the balcony, and in the span of a second there is a dented batarang clanging to the floor of the balcony.  Tim is frozen in the tail end of his throw, having seen too late who he was throwing at, his face contorted in horror slowly morphing into curiosity and excitement.  His whole demeanor curious, Conner is staring at the bent batarang that had hit his chest, before he slowly looks up at the man that had thrown said batarang.

A deep resonating voice, low with disappointment startles both of them, ”What is the rule about weapons in the manor?”  

As Conner recognizes that voice, he whips his head to look over at Bruce Wayne.  Brucie Wayne.   The playboy turned eccentric millionaire.  The benefactor of the Justice League.  The Bruce Wayne.  

However, before he can properly make the connections, make his head wrap around this weird, startling inkling of a new idea, Tim is running towards them, excitement clear on his face, “You told him?!”

Bruce holds up a hand, and in the same deep voice, the voice that has commanded Conner in lessons and missions throughout the years,  he orders, “Stop.”  Tim skids to a stop at the doors to the balcony, his excitement unabated.  Bruce’s voice returns to the previous tone, calm and soft, “I was just about to tell him.”  He then turns to Conner, and gives the same kind smile from before as he motions to Tim, “Conner.  This is Timothy Drake, though you have only known him as Red Robin.”  

---

Conner is not dumb.  While some people might believe otherwise, it’s not that he is stupid.  He just takes time to process things.  If given the time, his mind is a steel trap.  So, yes.  It does take him a while to process everything.  And right now, he’s processing.  When he does that, he doesn’t pay that much attention to things that go on around him.  So, he barely notices that he’s being walked out of the bedroom.  He barely notices the conversations going around him, only hearing bits and pieces.  

“You broke him.”

“Conner, the kitchen is this way.”

“How would you like coffee, sir?”

And the entire time, he’s processing.  Connecting the dots.  Because there’s a lot of them.  There’s a lot of people in the bat clan.  And now he knows them.  Knows them.  And they are sitting around him, eating breakfast.  And it is a process. 

Like an episode of the twilight zone, he watches Dick Grayson eat cereal, connecting it to the exact same way that Nightwing eats.  He sees Cassandra hug Damian, connecting it to all the times he’s seen Black Bat sneak attack hug Robin.  He connects that one story Red Robin told about Agent A to the butler that just served him french toast.  It takes him a few seconds to connect that Batman, the Batman , likes maple syrup on his scrambled eggs. 

And as he thinks, he feels something.  These people have always been his people.  His allies, his comrades, his friends.  But this feels different.  Damian hands him his favorite jelly while Steph steals a piece of sausage from his place.  Tim drops an ice cube down his shirt in an attempt to break him from his stupor, while a dog scrounges under the table eating his dropped crumbs.  

What he feels is family.

---

Sitting next to him, Bruce is aware the moment Conner is done processing.  Bruce leans over slightly and speaks softly under the random conversations happening around the table, “Conner?”

Conner looks up, gives Bruce a considering look, then nods slowly, his voice sure, “I’m good.”  Then without missing a beat, he asks, “Is Batman friends with Lex Luthor?”  Even though he tried to speak softly, the name washes over the table, carrying silence in its wake.  

Bruce breaks the silence as he hums, “Yes, Batman is friends with Lex Luthor.”  

Conner is clearly surprised, “So he knows?”

Bruce nods as he adds more bacon to his plate, “Indeed.  Your father is a very perceptive man.”  

Hearing someone call Luthor his father without disdain, hate, or a sneer causes Conner to sit up a little straighter in interest, “So, will you tell me about him?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, but sighs a little deeply in contemplation.  “Unfortunately, with the long history I have with your father, even with the more recent, drastic change in our dynamic, I do not believe you should hear about your father from me.”  The disappointment is back, Conner sinking into his chair.  However, Bruce was unfinished.  He raises his hand in a stopping motion to get Conner’s attention.  “But there’s something that we have learned that we have wanted to tell you.  We would have told you sooner, but our identities were in the way.”

Conner sits up straighter in realization, “That is why you told me.”

Bruce nods and motions to Tim, “Tim works for your father.”

Conner whips his head to look at Tim, another dot connecting.

Tim nods, picking up the conversation, “During my interview , I told him that I would only accept the job if he told me about Cadmus and I was allowed to tell you.”

The awe on Conner’s face makes his voice sound even more impressed, “You did that?”  The 'for me' hangs silently in the air.  Tim nods as he gives a small smile, but there is a melancholy wrapped around its edges.  That smile makes Conner turn serious, his face and voice firm, “I’m not going to like this.”

Tim’s head shake is as small as his voice, “No, you won’t.”

But Conner had come here to find out about his father. Determination takes over Conner, and he orders, “Tell me.”

So, over the silence at the breakfast table, where everyone's food slowly grows cold and coffee remains untouched, Tim tells the tale of a broken heart.

---

After hearing the horror truth of Cadmus, Conner’s brain is processing again.  But instead of connecting dots and ideas, his brain is just spinning.  Like a picker wheel, he can’t seem to land on an individual thought.  They just fly by, too fast to stop and think and process.  He feels frozen in place as he waits for the thoughts to slow.  He waits for them to make sense.  And it takes him too long to realize that they aren’t thoughts flickering in his head.  They are emotions. And as the wheel of emotions starts to slow, he can finally feel them through the frozen expanse in his chest and in his head.  

Anger, Sadness, Guilt, Anger, Hatred, Sadness, Disappointment, Hurt, Anger

And with each tick of the clock, each tick of a panel on the wheel, he feels the emotions.  One at a time, one right after another, gone as quick as they come.  But eventually it slows.  It slows down when a hand grabs his arm and guides him away from the table.  It slows when a hand cups the back of his head.  It slows when his head is gently pushed to rest against a broad chest.  It slows when an arm wraps around him in a hug, pulling him into an embrace.  

And with the final tick, instead of feeling one emotion, Conner feels them all.  They are gather, and it feels like a dam is breaking.  Wrapped in Bruce’s arms, with tears streaming down his face and heart-wrenching screams breaching his lips, Conner mourns.

Notes:

Poor Conner needs all the hugs.

So... I thought this was going to be a pretty weak chapter because Lex is my monologue muse, and this is the only chapter that doesn't have Lex in it. In the end, I like it. Another 'it changed on me' chapters, but I like where it ended. I hope y'all did too!

*I didn't mean to, but I totally love that I got to use GL to cover my need to monologue. I love a good snippy Green Lantern, what a saucy wench. >:3

Chapter 16: The Inspection

Summary:

Defenses and confessions do mix!

Conner’s visit had caused a stir in the Wayne Manor.  While everyone was worried about Conner and his realizations, they were also excited about the prospect of someone finally knowing their identities.  The next week was spent with a weird aura of anxiety and excitement humming through the halls.  Of course there was an outlier.  Instead of sharing the same wired energy of his siblings, Damian seemed muted in contrast.  

Bruce would not change anything about any of his children, but he does wish that Damian was better at expressing himself.  When Damian has to deal with emotions that he thinks others would find weak or inferior, he tends to fall onto his default emotions of indifference and aggression to cover his ‘faults’.  And after Conner’s visit, Damian has been acting indifferent.  More than usual.

While Bruce would like to ask him about it, talk to him about it, he knows that when Damian is confronted with his emotions before he has time to come to terms with them, he will fall on the latter emotion of aggression and lash out.  Bruce has learned through the years that when it comes to Damian and his emotions, his best bet is to wait for Damian to speak up.  Unfortunately, it's a slow process to get Damian to the point he’s reading to talk about emotions.  So all Bruce can do is wait.

It’s painful to watch his son wind himself up before he’s ready to let out his turmoil.  As the week goes on, Damian becomes more and more tense, his words stiff and his movements harsh.  An almost maniac energy seems to follow him as he stomps around the manor.  And by the end of the week, Bruce is about to admit he would rather deal with an aggressive Damian then the brittle person that Damian has wrapped himself up in.

However, before Bruce can decide on a new course of action, something happens.  During their weekly meeting, where the whole family sits down and works their schedules and shifts around each other, Damian speaks up dully, “Father, one of your meetings is on my schedule.”

Bruce leans over and inspects Damian’s tablet, reading off the meeting’s name, “Sol Tides Inspection?  That doesn’t sound familiar.”

Alfred doesn’t look up from his tablet, his face indifferent though his voice is hinted with disappointment, “As well it shouldn’t.  That is Master Damian’s meeting to attend.”

With looks of confusion and interest around the room, everyone stops what they are doing and looks at Alfred. 

Damian’s voice of disapproval matches his face, his words clipped, “Pennyworth, what is the meaning of this?”

Alfred raises an eyebrow as he looks up, his disinterested face challenging Damian’s glare, “Mister Luthor has requested your presence Monday morning.”

Damian narrows his eyes in suspicion, his words hard, “Why?”

It is Tim that answers, “Lex has been inspecting potential partners and companies to acquire for the Sol Tides initiative.  I told him to ask you since I thought you might be interested.”

Damian turns his sharp glare to Tim as he growls, “I have no interest in Luthor or father’s investment in that conservation.”  However, Bruce catches the small hint of confusion that laces Damian’s words.

Alfred, whose interest is back on his tablet, talks over his coffee cup, “I believe that you would benefit from going, Master Damian.  It may broaden your social horizons.”  

Damian’s tone sounds nonchalant, but everyone can hear that he’s just trying to make a show of disinterest, “With Luthor in charge, anything they acquire will most likely be some extorted company for a financial gain.”  

Alfred continues, “That very well could be true, though I’m not sure how acquiring the Ocean’s Breach Wildlife Reserve would have much profit.”  

This piques Damian’s interest, his snide tone is unable to cover up the interest in his eyes, “They intend to buy a wildlife reserve?”

Tim answers, “Yeah.  He’s already looked at two this month.  He said a fresh set of eyes would be useful.”  

Damian glares at his brother, but doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he resorts to ignoring the situation, sitting back and returning to his scheduling.  Seeing that Damian is done with the conversation, everyone goes back to their work.  But over the minutes, the weird maniac aura that Damian was carrying with him slowly seems to dissipate; a week of pent up emotion gently ebbs away.

When Damian finally finishes his schedule, he stands up to leave, but as he leaves the room, his voice echoes back stiffly, “Pennyworth, please make travel arrangements for Monday.”

---

Monday morning comes, and Damian opens the doors to the Reserve, taking the steps into the large lobby.  He slowly looks around, taking in the room.  An entire expanse of wall is a gigantic mural of wildlife, with big bold letters stating the Reserve’s Mission statement.  The wall opposite the lobby is a wall entirely of glass, looking into the pool section of a seal inclosure.  At the back of the lobby is a spacious entryway leading deeper into the Reserve.  There is where he spots Lex Luthor next to a tall brunette who’s talking to him.  

Damian walks towards them and hears a posh, British accent echo across the lobby.  “Are you sure you have this handled, dear?  I promise I can miss this appointment.”

Damian watches as Lex gives a stern look to the woman, but a soft smile graces his lips, “This would be the fourth time you missed this appointment.  Angela would be most displeased.”

The woman laughs, a bold guffaw that echoes throughout the room, “Let her be displeased!  If that woman thinks she can control me, she is sorely mistaken.”

Lex smirks but checks his watch, “Well, if I’m not sorely mistaken, you are already running late.  Now go along Jennifer.  Today will go by just fine without you.”

Damian is unable to see her face, but he hears the concern in her voice, “Are you sure? I don't mind being late.”  Her voice picks up an air of justification, “I even wore my intimidating shoes.”

At this point, Damian has stopped right behind her.  He looks down to see tall yet plain black stilettos.  He says in a voice of contempt, “They don't look intimidating.”

The woman turns around to face him, and Damian watches as her whole body language changes as she moves.  Her shoulders stiffen up and she stands taller.  When he finally sees her face, he sees none of the concern he heard earlier.  All he sees is a face of tamed malice; a tight lipped sneer, glaring eyes, and a raised eyebrow in unamusement.  As her turn comes to a stop, she rests her hands on her hips, her entire body screaming vicious intent.  

As Damian takes her in, his instincts twitch that he just found a dangerous predator.  Then, without taking the stiletto heel of her left shoe off the ground, she raises the front of her foot and slams it down on the ground.  The resounding slap sounds like a shotgun shot, the sound echoing throughout the empty lobby.  

The sound causes Damian to take the smallest step back to rebalance himself in a position easier to defend.  Before he can even process his instinctual response, the woman’s entire behavior changes.  Like watching water wash down a pane of glass, the angry visage is gone, replaced with a coy, knowing smile and twinkling eyes.  She leans in slightly, and her voice is smug, her words rolling around her accent, “They help set the mood, darling.”

Damian blinks at her response, but before he can reply, Luthor walks up behind her and makes introductions, “Damian, I would like you to meet my lawyer, Jennifer Rivers. Jennifer, this is Damian Wayne.”

Hearing his name, Rivers puts her hand on her chest in excitement, giving Luthor a scandalous look, “ The Damian Wayne?”  She turns to Damian and gives him a shark’s grin, her voice coy, “My pleasure indeed.  I have heard so many, deliciously vicious things about you.”  

Affronted by her comment, Damian frowns at her with displeasure.  She seems unbothered by his glare, waving her hand in a dismissal, “Oh, don’t look so upset darling.  Rumors are just rumors.”  Then her tone turns playful,  “However, if the rumors are true, you should take them as a compliment.”  She grins and gives him a wink.

Before Damian can retort, Luthor again interrupts.  He gently grabs Rivers’s elbow and slowly starts to pull her to the entrance, his voice playfully dismissive, “Unfortunately, Jennifer will not be joining us today.  As she can see, we have everything handled.”

Taking the hint, she nods and starts walking to the door, though she does it backwards so she can keep talking to them, her tone joyous, “Indeed you do!  Lex darling, I don’t suppose you’ll record it?”  

Luthor doesn’t reply to her, instead answers in a put upon voice, “Goodbye Jennifer.  Give Angela my best.”  At hearing the name, a look of concern cross Rivers face, causing her to turn to the door and leave in sure steps.

Once the door shuts behind her, the energy in the room seems to lower.  Luthor turns to Damian and gives a small, professional smile, “Thank you for joining us today Damian.  I hope Alfred was able to explain why I had requested you.”

Damian nods kurtly, “You and Doctor Perrow are investigating this Reserve.”

Luthor nods, motioning Damian to follow him deeper into the Reserve, “Correct.  My main goal for us today is to inspect and review both the reserves’ facilities and staff, as well as the finances and practices of the reserve.  If it meets our standards, it will become a partner in Sol Tides Conversation’s Ocean Life initiative.”  

Damian doesn’t move to follow.  He plants himself in place, crossing his arms.  His face disapproving, his voice demanding, “Why me?”

Luthor stops and looks Damian over.  He gets a considering look on his face, then blatantly answers,  “You are easily offended.”

Damian flares his nose as he spits his words out, “Excuse me?”

A knowing look crosses Luthor’s face, a pure indication that Damian had proven him right.

Luthor then gives a smug smile, raising his hand as if to temper down Damian’s rage, “No need to be offended.  It’s a very useful trait I look for in my lawyers, auditors, and inspectors.  And it’s a very particular trait that I wanted for this inspection.”

Damian clenches his fists, trying to temper his rage.  He knows he just played into Luthor’s game, and he hisses through clenched teeth, “Why?”

Luthor turns and walks back into the lobby, heading towards the seal enclosure, motioning Damian to follow.  With stiff steps, Damian follows.  Once they stop next to the glass, Luthor looks into the enclosure, watching as a small seal swims by the window.  “Look at these seals.  How would you expect Richard to respond to them?”

Not liking the segway but having dealt with enough people that liked to talk in winded circles, Damian sighs sharply, “Take pictures of them.  Most likely post them with unbearable puns.”

Not taking his eyes off the seal, Luthor nods slowly before asking, “And what about Timothy?”

This causes Damian to frown in annoyance, “Spout useless facts about them.”

Luthor nods, then asks innocently, “And what was your first thought when you saw them?”

Damian doesn’t even have to think, the question comes out clipped, “Why are they here?”

This causes Luthor to turn his head to Damian, his face mock quizzical, “Are you offended that they are here?”

Defensively, Damian nearly shouts, “No!”  At Luthor’s answering smirk, Damian corrects himself angrily, “Yes!  They don’t belong here at all.”  He motions abstractly past the walls in the direction of the ocean coast, “They should be home.”

The answer causes Luthor to give a soft, kind smile, “That is my point; why you are different from your brothers.”  Luthor tilts his head in consideration, slowly wording his response, “Your whole family is built of protectors.  Every single one of them wants to fight the wrongs in the world, to protect victims that can’t protect themselves.  But many times in our lives, our views and opinions have been tailored by the society we live in; to the point that we don’t see what’s right in front of us.” 

Luthor turns back to the seals, watching them again.  His voice comes out soft, “When your brothers look at these seals, they don’t see anything wrong.  They don’t see the wrongs that have already been committed. They don’t see that the only reason these seals are here is because of poisoned homelands or inflicted wounds or lost parents.  Nor do they see the wrongs that could be happening right now.

“But you are different.  While you are a protector like your family, you take it a step further.  Due to your defensive nature, you take every little slight or comment as an offense, an insult.   So when you see even the smallest wrong in the world, you take it as a personal affront. And that hyper-defensiveness lets you see things that your brothers’ overlook.  You see animals in captivity and you take that as an offense to your very ideology."

Luthor finally looks back to Damian, “ That is what I need today.  I don’t need someone to go in there and coo at cute animals.  I don’t need facts about their habitats or eating habits.  I need someone to be offended by every little wrong they see in there and call them out.”

Thinking over what Luthor said, Damian looks at the glass frowning.  Stuck in thought, he barely hears the front doors open.  He slowly looks up at the sound of soft, petite footsteps.  He watches as a small, tiny woman walks up to them.  The tiny brunette looks like a rabbit near a lion. Refusing to look up at them, her focus seems to be on the ground behind Luthor.  She nervously clutches a clipboard to her chest, her hands fluttering around the edges.  She nods her head in greeting, then flinches.  

Luthor smiles as he speaks to Damian, motioning gently to the woman, “Doctor Perrow will not be joining us today. However, Doctor Perrow has sent her assistant.  This is Doctor Julie Harris.  She will be our ocean life expert during our trip today.”  He turns to Harris, and speaks slowly and kindly, clearing trying not to startle the woman, “Doctor Harris, this is Damian Wayne.”

She doesn’t raise her head, just uses quick forced motions to stick her out hand, like it pains her to do so.  Damian accepts the handshake, though her grip is weak, almost frail.  However, during the handshake, her head jerks down like she’s trying to force herself to be more firm, and her grip tightens slightly. Her voice is wobbly and unsure, but genuine, “H-h-Hello, Mr. Wayne.  My pl-pleasure to meet you.”   

The moment the handshake is done, Harris steps back behind Luthor, her hunched stance and demeanor almost completely blending into the background.  At that, Luthor motions Damian to the back doors again, “If you will?”

Knowing what Luthor is asking, Damian looks back to the seals.  One of the swimmers swims by, but seems to miscalculate its arch cause he runs into the glass, booping his little nose against the wall.  Damian quickly turns away from the stupidly cute ridiculous display and walks past Luthor, his words not coming out as disappointed as he wanted, “Very well.  Let’s be done with this.”

The doorway leads them deeper into the Reserve, into another big, open lobby room.  This time, there are more glass walls, showing multiple aquariums filled with fish and wildlife.  Next to one of the aquariums are two employees surrounded by multiple tables covered in files and file containers.  As the employees see them enter, the woman walks up to them, her face and demeanor cheerful, “Welcome to the Ocean’s Breach-“

Before she can even finish, Damian demands, “Why are they here?” He points to the enclosure next to them.  Inside are three sea otters, two of them swimming near the glass.   

Seeing Damian points at otters, the woman’s smile gets more earnest as she answers, “Well, all of our otters are here because they each have suffered-”

Damian once again interrupts her, “Why are they here ?  This is an Atlantic Ocean reserve.  This plaque says that sea otters are Pacific Ocean wildlife.”

Her smile gets a little taut, but she answers, “Many reserves use sea otters as ambassadors to show the public that the impact~”

Displeasure taints Damian’s voice, his face deadpan, “Just because they are cute?”

The woman, Rebecca according to her name tag, tries to keep her smile up, but it wavers, “Well, yes.  Due to their cute and energetic natures, it is easier for humans to relate to them.  It helps to express their plight~”

Damian points to the first lobby, his voice gaining an edge of accusation, “Your Mission statement claims that you focus is on rehabilitation of all your wild life.  Do you not intend that for these otters?”

This time, Rebecca stands a little straighter, her words firm, “All of our otters are unable to be rehabilitated, and released into the wildlife.”

With a raised eyebrow, Damian demands, “Prove it.”

This causes Rebecca to startle, “Oh.. Of course!”  She turns back to the table of files, and starts looking through them with the aid of the other employee.  “We brought all the, well, all of the files out here, just in case.  Justin, could you hand that to me?” 

After some shuffling, Rebecca hands Damian a stack of files triumphantly.  Without even looking at them, Damian grabs them and hands them over to Harris.  Harris startles at the motion, but takes them and quickly scans through them.  As they wait, Damian crosses his arms and frowns at Rebecca.  She smiles at him, though it looks a little crooked, “As I was saying, Welcome to-”

Damian raises his hand, silencing her. 

A few minutes pass and Harris clears her throat, “Their documents, if c-correct, show that these animals, d-due to injury, age, or temp-.  Temp-. Temp-.”  She stops and shakes her head, before attempting to continue, “Due to temp-.”  Getting caught on the word again, she sighs deeply through her nose in concentration.

Rebecca’s smile turns even more brittle in sympathy.

Harris nods, psyching herself up, her words more forceful, “Due to temp-.” She stops, then in low, quiet whisper clearly only for herself to hear, she softly speaks in a rhyming song , “It’s not what you meant~ , he just has a bad~”  Then she expresses loudly, with proud force,  “Temperament!”  She then coughs, her joy quickly falling away, her voice going back to a more quiet, professional tone, “Due to it, these otters would not fair w-well if released into the wild.” 

Both Rebecca and Justin looked thrilled that their paper matched their claim.  Damian doesn’t remove his unimpressed glare from them as he points back to the otters’ plaque.   

“This states they eat 30% of their weight in food a day.  For creatures on the wrong side of the country, I have no doubt that is expensive.  I demand to see your documentation and budget for their dietary necessities.”

Rebecca and Justin’s smiles fall away.

---

The rest of the inspection went at the same aggressive, demanding pace.   Hours later, when Damian was finally satisfied with everything he had seen, he looks directly at Luthor and states, “I find them acceptable.” He looks over to Rebecca and Justin, who look like mere ghosts of their former selves as they slowly pack up all the files sluggishly.  He turns back to Luthor, “I would also consider recommendations for the staff.  They have acted cordially in the face of adversity.”  

Luthor’s laugh is startling, his grin contagious, “Indeed they have.”  His face turns professional and sincere as he continues, “Thank you Damian, for your priceless assistance in this matter.  Now, it is way past lunch.  May I convince you to join me?”

Damian nods curtly and heads to the door, “I am a vegetarian, so I demand you find a suitable location.”

---

Lunch finds them seated on the balcony of a fine restaurant, overlooking the water’s edge.  As they watch the waves lap below them, Luthor comments, “I will say, today want by even more smoothly than I anticipated.  Even Jennifer’s vigor pales in comparison to yours.”

Damian tries to hide the smile the compliment gives.  He covers it with a question, “Would she get offended by that?”  Luthor raises an eyebrow in question, and Damian continues, his voice a little offhanded, “You said you look for that in your lawyers…”

Luthor nods knowingly, smiling softly, “I do.  And no, she would be delighted. She has been looking for a prodigy.”  Damian tuts but doesn’t reply.  Luthor takes a sip of his wine, and then on a tangent, says, “When I first hired her, she was a lot like you.”

Damian stops, and thinks.  He doesn’t like being compared to other people, but he is curious.  Rivers did seem like a formidable woman.  He asks softly, attempting to keep his tone disinterested, “How so?”

Luthor smirks, seeing through Damian’s ruse.  He answers plainly, “She was easily offended.”  Seeing Damian’s frown, his smirk grows as he continues, “She was so worried about her position on my lawyer team, being so young and inexperienced.  Because of that, she had a hard time becoming part of the team.  She refused to talk about what she felt, afraid someone would be offended.  She refused to talk about what she liked, in fear someone would use it like a weapon.

“She was so worried people wouldn’t like her for her strong stances and sharp edges, that she failed to see that we were starting to not like her because she wouldn’t open up.”

Damian tuts, clearly unhappy with the obviously wrong comparison that Luthor made, his voice firm and bitter, “I do not have those problems.”

Luthor only nods and leans back in his chair, quickly, sharply changing the subject, “What was your favorite animal you saw today?”

The topic change causes Damian to frown.  He answers dismissively, “Hmph, I would have to think about it.”

Another nod and a look of consideration, then Luthor answers, “I personally liked the otters.”

At Damian’s surprised look, Luthor smiles like he’s sharing a secret, his tone going soft and endearing, “Yes.  I find otters cute.  And I do in fact, love their fun and energetic natures.  When they clean their faces, it is ridiculously adorable.”

Damian still seems to be caught up on the admittance, his voice startled and unsure, “You like otters?”

Luthor gives Damian a coy smile, “I like otters.  I like many things, and I’ve never been ashamed to admit any of them.  Especially the ones people think I wouldn’t enjoy.  I refuse to let other people dictate my happiness.”  His look gets thoughtful, “I believe that is one of the harder things for people to learn.  That admitting you like something, or feel something, doesn’t instantly mark it as a weakness.  I had to learn that, and Jennifer did too.  And I have a feeling you are still learning that.”

Damian frowns, but it’s more thoughtful than upset, though his tone sounds accusing, “And what?  You can just say those things. What you feel?”

Luthor nods, “Of course.”  Then he gives Damian a small, sincere smile.  “I enjoyed today.  I am glad that you came.  I enjoy your company.  You remind me of your father.  You remind me of people I love.  I do think you would be a great lawyer.  I hope that one day you can embrace your own happiness with the same passion that you embrace your fury.”

Damian sits in silence as he thinks Luthor’s words over.  However, one sentence catches his attention more than others.  He looks at Luthor with a face mixed with surprise, dismay, and accusation as the question tumbles from his mouth, “Do you love my father?”

The sincere look on Luthor’s face doesn’t falter as he answers, his words full of mirth, “Your father fascinates me.  He infuriates me.  I trust him and yet I worry about him.  I care about him.”  His smile turns a little sad, his face turning melancholy.  Though through it all, his small smile still has an edge of hope. “I haven’t felt love in my heart for a long time. But if this old broken heart actually has the capacity to love again, your father is the closest thing I have.”

Damian freezes, unable, unsure of what to do.  He feels.. many things.

Damian had heard Brown talk about second hand embarrassment before, but he never could understand how someone could become that attached to another person’s plight.  However, now, in the moment, as he stares into the face of heartbreak and hope, Damian finds himself looking away in embarrassment, in shame.  

But he’s confused.  It’s not his embarrassment.  And at the earnest, unbothered look that Luthor has given, it’s not Luthor’s embarrassment.  He feels like he's been freely handed Luthor’s deepest secret but this secret freezes his hands and his heart with the truth, a bitter harsh cold that holds him in place.  

And as he thinks about this not-so-secret secret, Damian is horrified, amazed, awed.  He has never had someone use their own emotions, their own secrets against him.  And he never knew that someone so open with their feelings could be so powerful; to unintentionally use them to cause this much devastation. 

So in awe, Damian just sits as the waves crash below him.  Time ticks away as he lets the embarrassment unclench from around his heart.  And when he finally takes the first, full breath, Damian realizes that he wants that.  More than he wants to be able to express what he’s feeling without the fear or shame or embarrassment; what he really wants is to be able to use his emotions as a weapon. 

He slowly looks back over at Luthor.  He is reclining back in his chair, watching the waves roll, unperturbed by the weight of their conversation, nor the long silence that followed. Damian takes a breath.  It takes the smallest step to start.

“I liked the seals.”

Luthor looks to him and smiles, intently listening. Damian adds on, softly, “I enjoyed today as well.”  Then he stops and thinks about the emotional turmoil he was in all week and forces himself to blurt it out.  “I was jealous.”  This causes Luthor to frown, clearly confused by the random statement.  

Damian sits up straighter, looking back out to the sea.  His voice turns a little clinical as he starts talking.  “Conner came to visit last week.  Drake told him about Cadmus.”  Though he isn’t looking at Luthor, he can hear Luthor’s breath catch.  Damian continues soft yet formal, “He did not take it well.  He’s still… processing.”  He hears Luthor sigh softly.

Sighing himself, Damian gets back on track, “But during his visit, after he… gathered himself, the others started telling little anecdotes about you.  How Dick almost killed you with his batarang, how Jason fainted on your rug.  The stories seemed to help pull Conner out of his stupor.”  Now at his point, Damian’s voice turns disappointing, “I was jealous that I had nothing to share.”

Finally having the truth out, it feels like it's easier to breathe.  So Damian breaths, taking in the salty air, listening to the seagulls call.  

“Damian.”

Slowly, Damian turns to look at Luthor.  Luthor is giving that same, sad little smile from before, the one edged in hope, “Then maybe you can help give him something for me?” 

Damian tilts his head curious, his words curious yet accusational, “What?”

The smile doesn’t falter, but it seems to turn even sadder as a wistful look falls over his face.   

“Every year, I get him a birthday gift that I have yet to deliver.”

The words cause Damian’s heart to stop.  Just the thought of it causes an emotional knot in his head and his heart.  In an act of preservation, he latches onto the first thought that crosses his mind.  He points a finger at Luthor, his words accusing yet hopeful, “You know his birthday.  His real birthday.”

Luthor frowns, a bitter sadness taking over his face, “No I don’t.”  Before Damian can refute it, Luthor continues, his words remorseful, “I know many dates.  The date his DNA was viable.  The date of his first heart beat.  The date that his lungs were healthy enough to breath on their own.  The day they opened his tube.”  Luthor looks imploringly at Damian, “But those aren’t really birthdays.  Birthdays should be celebrated, not documented.  Birthdays should be surrounded by friends and family, not cold machines and heartless scientists.”  

Damian looks at Luthor and sees the truth.  This man doesn’t know Conner’s birthday.  Not the one that really matters.  So he gives the smallest smile and tells him.

“November 7th.”  Damian watches the sadness drain away from Luthor’s face, replaced with kind acceptance.  Damian continues, his words slow and sure, like retelling an old tale, “That day, Starfire had burnt a batch of pumpkin cookies.  Conner, the brown noser, willingly ate that poison.  To cover up his flinching, he had stated that maybe he just didn’t like pumpkin.  We were all horrified to realize that Conner’s first try of pumpkin was Starfire’s monstrosities.  It became our mission to give Conner a proper pumpkin introduction.  So, of course, we bought everything we could find.  From pumpkin pie to pumpkin ice creams, we made sure he tried them all.  By the end, we were all sick with sugar.  But when asked, Conner had said that was the best day of his life.”

Luthor’s smile is soft and warm, wistful around the edges, “That does sound like something to celebrate.”

Happy with that conclusion, Damian looks back out to the water.  Luthor joins him in watching the view, the soft breeze carrying away any of the tension or awkwardness from before.  Then, solemnly Damian speaks, “I will deliver the gifts to him.”

Luthor’s voice sounds like a smile, “Thank you Damian.”

Not wanting to fall back into silence, Damian looks at him and demands, “Since you have no fear in admitting them, tell me other things that you like.”

Without missing a beat, Luthor answers, “I like many things.  I like ballroom dancing.  I love cotton candy.”  As Damian squints his eyes, trying to believe him, Luthor smirks as he continues, “I listen to Kesha for I think she is a very talented musician. I enjoy painting Mercy’s nails.”  Damian starts frowning and Luthor’s smirk keeps growing, “Wicked is my favorite musical.  I adore hugs.”

At this point Damian is glaring at Luthor, his words bitter, “You are lying.”

Luthor laughs at the accusation, and then he gives Damian a truthful, earnest look.  “I have no reason to lie.  These are my truths.”  Damian raises his eyebrow in defiance, yet Luthor just shakes his head knowingly at Damian.  “That’s the greatest thing about not being ashamed of your likes and dislikes.  When you aren’t afraid to admit them, you will always have the advantage on your enemies.”  

Still frowning but curious, Damian asks stiffly, “And what advantage is that?”  

Luthor leans in close to Damian, looking him in the eye with smug defiance, “My advantage is no one will believe you.”

Notes:

This turned out better than expected, and that makes me happy. I hope y'all like it!

Please leave love and comments! They make me HAPPY! Serious, y'all are light up my days with your kindness! :3

And dun dun dunnn! Next chapter's a big one! It will be the middle marker for this story, and some big is coming! I'm so excite! Get excited! AHHHH! I'll see y'all next week!

Chapter 17: The Question

Summary:

Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor do mix.

If there is one thing people love, it’s gossip; and the last eight months has been a banquet of rumors and accusations.  A spread of theories and conspiracies that has shown up across every tabloid and gossip circle.  As every event produces more and more pictures and evidence of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor’s relationship, people have begun to wonder.  Is there more to this relationship than just friendship?  

From the obvious flirtation and inside jokes, to candid pictures and whispered conversations, the two seem to be connected at the hip at every party they attend.   And yet, even eight months after the Gala, no one has yet to find evidence of more .  So, when Brucie Wayne announced an awareness charity for the LGBT+ community, interest was instantly sparked.  People wondering and assuming that Brucie and Lex were going to come out about their questionably ‘secret’ relationship. And so people waited with bated breath for the night to arrive.

---

Bruce hits the call on his phone before transferring it to speaker phone.  Hearing the call start to ring, he set the phone down on one of his dressers.  Just as he’s about to select a belt from his wardrobe, the call picks up.  Lex’s voice is deep and bored, “What do you need Wayne?”

As Bruce unhooks the belt from it’s display hook, he asks nonchalantly, “What are you wearing tonight?”

A warmth of weary amusement is heard when Lex asks, “May I ask why the inquiry?”

Bruce starts to loop the belt through his pants, “I believe that the rumors are finally getting to my PR manager.  He called this morning with some ‘well-wished’ advice about our relationship.”

Lex’s voice goes deadpan, “How bold.”

Before Bruce can reply, Jason strides into the walk-in closet.  Having been eavesdropping on the conversation, he leans against the dresser that is holding Bruce’s phone and speaks at it, “Mattie is tired of you two dancing around each other.   He pretty much told Bruce that he had to shit or get off the pot.”

Lex seems unperturbed by the added commentary, nor the implication, only sounding bored again, “Ah, an ill-formed plan on his part.”

Jason smirks in agreement, his reply mocking, “Damn fool he is.”

Letting the conversation go for the moment, Lex greets, “Hello Jason.”

Even though he can’t see it, Jason nods at the phone, “Hey Lex.”  He then turns his attention to Bruce.  

Bruce smiles at Jason and asks, “What can I do for you Jason.”

Jason abstractly jerks his thumb behind him, “Something’s come up in the Alley.  Roy and I are going to go check it out.  Just wanted you to know we won’t be at the party.  And probably not patrol.”  

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “I am assuming that Damian offered to take your shift.”

Jason snorts as he shakes his head, “Damn near biting at the bit to get out of this party.”

This causes Bruce to smirk before his face turns solemn, “Very well.  Be safe.”

Jason steps towards the door, but doesn’t turn his back so he can wiggle his eyebrows at Bruce.  With a jerk of his head to Bruce’s phone, he replies, “You too.”  Only with that does he turn and leave.

Hearing Jason leave, Lex easily picks up the past conversation.  “So Matthew is tired of the rumors.”

This causes Bruce to pause and look back at the phone curiously, “Your PR team isn’t?”

Lex’s voice is amused, “On the contrary, Angela’s been enjoying it.  She tries to drop the Wayne name every opportunity she can.  Truthfully, I believe she has been a bit bored, and this is the most excitement she’s had to work with the past few years.”

Bruce laughs as he pulls out an undershirt, “Well, Matthew refuses to bring it up.  The fact that Brucie Wayne hasn’t gotten tired of you must be finally getting to him.”

Lex hums over the phone before asking, “And how does this pertain to my attire?”

Bruce can’t stop the calculating grin from forming on his face.  “I thought we could match tonight.”

Lex scoffs, but it sounds playful, “The gossip wheel would be insufferable.”  His voice turns coy, “Angela would be thrilled.”

Bruce grins evilly, “And Matthew not at all.”

His mirth is shared for Lex’s words are cocky, ”He should know better than to challenge Brucie Wayne.”  There is a slight ruffle of fabric over the phone, before Lex continues, “Very well.  I decided to start the fall season a little early.   I am currently wearing a newly acquired shirt of burnt orange.”

Bruce chuckles as he moves to the warm color section of his button up shirts, “Drafette is slowly weaning you into that brown I see.”  Bruce looks through his shirt collection and grins as he pulls out a burnt orange. “Perfect.  And your tie?”

With little coordination, a matching attire is easily selected.  As Bruce finishes getting dressed, a silence falls over them.  The quiet is only broken minutes later when Damian walks in.  Curt and to the point, “Father, I will be taking Todd’s shift tonight.”

Bruce nods and replies softly, “Thank you.”

Damian nods and turns to leave but pauses.  His voice is accusing, but laced with confusion, as he looks at the dresser, “Father, your phone is on.”

Lex replies through the phone, his voice amused, “Hello Damian.”

Damian frowns at the phone but replies, “Hello Luthor.”  With no further conversation, he turns to Bruce with a look of suspicion, “You two are on the phone.”  Bruce just hums as he ties his tie.  This causes Damian’s frown to deepen, “But you are not talking.”

Bruce shakes his head lightly, his tone soft, ”Not currently.”

Damian tilts his head in affronted confusion, “But you will be?”

Bruce gently nods, but shrugs his shoulders, “Eventually.”

Damian stares a bit more, before turning around with a tut.  “You two are ridiculous.”  

---

To the disappointment of everyone invested in tonight’s charity, neither Bruce Wayne nor Lex Luthor made any personal announcements.  In fact, the two were rarely seen together, each making their own rounds talking to folks and encouraging others to donate. 

By midnight, the party had wrapped up and most of the guests and staff had already left, with only a handful of people remaining.  It was only then that Bruce and Lex found themselves back in each other’s company.

Lex was sitting at an empty table, solemnly looking out across the dance floor when Bruce joined him.  Bruce’s face is tired but he still smirks, “This seat taken?”  Without waiting for a reply, he unbuttons his jacket and sits down next to Lex, joining him to stare at the few dancing stragglers on the floor. 

Lex leans towards him, speaking softly, “How was your evening?”

Bruce grins, “Wonderful.  I do believe I say Matthew tearing his hair out that last hour.”

Lex hums, “If he is unable to take the stress of the job, you may want to consider someone else.”

Bruce snorts and shakes his head, “How will he learn if we don’t give him the opportunity to learn.”

His statement causes a giggle to emerge out from under the table.  Both men stop and stare at the draping tablecloth, before Bruce slowly lifts the cloth up.  Underneath the table they find a young girl with black hair and bright eyes.  She giggles again at them, “That’s what gramma says about grampa.”

Bruce smiles brightly at her, his voice joyous, “Well, if it isn’t little Miss Lian Harper!”  He secures the tablecloth so it doesn’t fall back down, then leans back in his chair to look at her.  She is sitting on her haunches, her fluffy purple dress pooling around her.  Sitting on the top of her knees is a small bowl of fruit drenched in a shallow pool of chocolate.  As she uses her fork to stab a piece of fruit, her long, loose hair starts to slowly fall into the bowl.  “Lian, my darling, wouldn’t that be better eaten at the table?”  

She grins excitedly as she shakes her head, causing a few strands of hair to stick to the side of the bowl. “I’m playing hide and seek with grampa!”  Sharply both Bruce and Lex look up in search of Oliver Queen.  They easily spot Oliver and Dinah sitting on the edge of the dance floor, both have their legs sprawled out in front of them.  While the Queens are whispering to each other, they are both facing the table. 

Sensing eyes on them, Oliver’s eyes snap up.  Seeing Bruce and Lex looking at them, he just gives a roguish grin and raises his glass in salute.  He then lowers his glass slightly in another salute, clearly indicating the table and it’s hidden residence.  His face gains a look on inquiry.  

Bruce gives a quick shake of his head as he smiles.  

Bruce and Lex turn back to Lian.  Bruce keeps his face neutral but his voice is humorous, “Yes, he seems very committed to finding you.”

The girl giggles as she attempts to push her hair back out of her face.   Lex frowns at the loose hair and asks, his words formal yet sincere, “Lian.  Would you like some help taming your hair?”

Lian’s face lights up, but then she frowns, “I lost my hair pieces earlier.” 

Lex pulls his pocket square out of his suit pocket and motions her closer, “Not a problem.”   

Excited again, she hands her bowl to Bruce and then scoots out from under the table until she’s sitting in front of Lex’s chair.  Once she turns her back to him, Lex gently gathers her hair and threads his pocket square through it.  Then with quick, deft hands, he braids her hair, using the fabric to secure the braid as a crown around her head.  

With the braid tied, he gently pushes against her back to slowly slide her back under the table; the motion causing her to giggle.  Back under the table, Lian turns around with a big grin on her face as she feels the braid on her head, “Thank you Mister Luthor!”  

He smiles softly as he leans back in his chair, “You are welcome, Miss Harper.”

She then thanks Bruce when he hands her bowl back to her.  Both men share a look of amusement when her face turns focused as she attempts to stab a grape as it rolls around in the chocolate.  Once she finally skewers the fruit, she proudly shoves it in her mouth.  As she chews it, she looks at Bruce and Lex curiously.  Then, around her mouthful, she asks, “Are you two in cahoots?”

The question cause Bruce to smirk, “And why would you think that?”

She shrugs, her face innocent, “Well, Uncle Jason always says he and daddy are in cahoots.  And you two look like you’re in cahoots.”

Lex grins, “And what do you think cahoots means?”

She smiles and nods affirmatively, “It’s like when you are dating, but secretly.”

Both men blink in surprise, then look at each other with raised eyebrows.  Bruce gently leans towards Lian, his curious words laced with humor, “And who told you that was what cahoots means?”

This time she gets a little self-conscious, leaning back slightly with a thoughtful frown, “Well… no one.  But…  They say you get cahooties when you kiss….  So when you are all kissy and happy, you’re in cahoots.”

The childishly innocent answer cause both Lex and Bruce to chuckle, causing Lian to grin in reply.  However, before they could continue, they spot Oliver and Dinah walking up to their table.  Hearing footsteps and seeing both Bruce and Lex look away from the table, Lian stills.  Fearing the footsteps are her grandfather’s, she covers her mouth with a finger in a shushing motion.  

As they approach, the Queens intentionally position themselves to be out of sight from Lian, her view blocked from the bunched up, hanging tablecloth.  Seeing the grins on both of their faces, it's easy to see that both Oliver and Dinah had overheard Lian’s explanation on cahoots. 

Once they stop, Oliver’s face turns mock stern as he nods stiffly at Lex, “Luthor.”

Lex returns in kind, with a slight bow of his head, “Queen.”

Oliver then turns to Bruce, and his voice is demeaning, though a smile curls on his lips, “Brucie, your ballroom is filthy.”

Bruce leans back, splaying his hand over his chest is mock hurt, his question alarming, “Why would you dare think that, Ollie?”

Selling the moment, Oliver puts his hands on his hips, his voice turning accusing, “I saw a bug scurrying under your tables.”

While Lian tries to be quiet, this sentence makes her giggle, though she tries to stifle it.  Oliver grins knowingly at the table, his voice getting playful, “In fact, I think there’s one here right now!”  

With a flourish, he pulls the tablecloth up on his side of the table.  He gasps in surprise, “Well, if it isn’t a Lian Bug!”

Unable to contain herself, Lian giggles and exclaims loudly, “I’m not a bug!”  

Oliver grins, “I only see bugs below tables!”  He then sticks his hand out to her, his voice kind, “Come on out, Lian Bug.”  

Leaving her bowl behind, she grabs his hand.  He pulls her out from under the table, her dress shoes making her slide smoothly.  Once her head is clear of the table, he pulls up, gently throwing her in the air to be caught in his arms.  “There’s my bug!”

With Lian secured in his arms, straddling his hip, Oliver turns them towards Bruce and Lex.  Oliver’s voice turns firm when he asks Lian, “I hope you weren’t bothering Bruce and Luthor.”

Lian shakes her head aggressively, “I was good.  We were talking, and look!  Mister Luthor braided my hair!”  She tries to turn her head to show Oliver.  

It is Dinah that inspects the braid, her kindly complimenting, “A beautiful braid.  Did you thank him?”

Lian nods repeatedly.  Dinah tweaks her on the nose, “Good.  It’s go time.  Time to say good bye.”

With that, the two groups exchange farewells; some youthfully excited, others stiff in tradition.  

As Lex and Bruce watch them walk away, they see Oliver lean into Lian and whisper something.  Lian to gasp excitedly, her voice carrying over the now empty ballroom, “Grampa, you think Bruce and Mister Luthor are in cahoots too!”

Oliver looks back over his shoulder, a knowing look on his face.  He doesn’t lower his voice, letting it echo through the room, “They've been in cahoots for a while now, little bug.”

With the Queens’ departure, Lex and Bruce are left alone, the only occupants of the ballroom.

Bruce stays seated, staring at the closed door in consideration.  He then slowly moves his chair so he’s facing Lex.  With soft humor, he says, “I did not anticipate Oliver thinking we were dating.”

Lex sneers, which causes Bruce to frown curiously.  He asks, “What part of that statement offended you so?”

Lex frowns, then tips his head in consideration.  He speaks slowly, like stating it will drop the subject, “It is merely semantics of terminology.”

Bruce guffaws in surprise, “Semantics of dating?”

Giving a pinched smile, the smallest shake of his head like he isn’t thrilled about the admittance, Lex replies with a displeased tone, “I believe that dating is a dated term.”

Seeing such a stiff reply from Lex, Bruce grins, “Now you must explain.”

Sighing through his nose, Lex answers with his hand raised, “I will not have you get me wrong.  I do believe that dating is a very important, key part of life. Dating is how we learn and grow.  But I believe that dating has a small window in our life, and that is in our adolescence.”

Wanting to see this line of thought, Bruce motions Lex to continue, "Then please continue, if you want me to get you right."

Lex sighs, and he seems to deflate.  He leans back and continues with a wistful voice, “Dating is for the young.  You date so you can learn what you like and don’t like.  You date to find your high school sweethearts and one true loves.  You date to find that one person that fits your dreams.  You date to find love, because you think that as long as you have love, it will be enough.”

Lex looks at Bruce knowingly, his voice turning melancholy, “But you do learn.  And you do grow.  And you find out what you like, and what you don’t like.  You find that sometimes love isn’t enough.  People move, people change, you change .”

The wistfulness is back, laced with disappointment, “It’s so much easier to fit people into your dreams then it is to fit them into your life.”

Bruce looks Lex over, watching the raw emotions on his face and asks, “Then what do you call it?  When you are too old to date?”

Lex gives him a curious look before it turns brittle, “I would just call it trying.” He continues in a low voice, “I’m not looking for fancies, or whimsical loves.  I’m not looking for someone to make me happy.”  He looks Bruce in the face, his voice sure, “I am happy.  I don’t need someone to make me happy.  I’m trying to find someone that fits my life.  Someone that won’t get caught up on the fame and riches.   I’m trying to find someone that can look at all I have achieved and will achieve, and not see a man obsessed or a man damned.  Someone that understands my goals, my thought process, me. I’m trying to find someone that can make me happier.”

As Bruce listens, his soul resonates, for Lex’s desires sounds so similar to his own.  And as he thinks about it, Bruce would agree.  Trying seems the right word for it.  He hasn’t dated in a long time.  Though, he hasn’t tried in a long time either.  But as he looks at this man next to him; this dangerous, powerful, intriguing man, Bruce realizes he hadn’t wanted to try in a while.  He didn’t need to.  This complex, confusing, broken man, this enemy turned friend has been making him happier.

As he slowly thinks about the implications, the mere idea of it, Bruce realizes that once again he's been missing things.  Moments, interactions, conversations.  Once again, Lex Luthor has been in Bruce’s blind sight, slowly laying down a plot for Bruce to fall into.  But this time, Bruce feels the tiniest of smiles grow on his face, because some of those interactions weren’t just Lex’s.  Bruce thinks maybe he isn’t the only one that wasn’t paying attention.   “Fair enough Lex.  I will rephrase.  We did not anticipate we were trying .”

Confusion and surprise dance across Lex’s face before quickly settling on a raised eyebrow and a uptick of a smile, his voice humorous yet challenging, “ We ?”

Bruce nods sagely, keeping his mirth in check, “Indeed, though this does seem like a case of hindsight for both of us.  But I would fairly state that we have been trying .”

A look of consideration falls over Lex’s face, and Bruce can see him slowly review all their recent interactions as well.  He slowly raises an eyebrow and asks, “The last six months of Brucie Wayne draping over me like a cashmere cardigan?”

Bruce smirks in response, “And the six months of you letting me?”  Lex considers it, then with flash of surprise, he gives a small smile and the slowest nod is his answer.   Bruce continues, “You talking, guiding, and taking care of my kids?”

Realization slowly grows on Lex’s face, replaced with pride, “You trusted me to.”

As another thought strikes him, Bruce’s smirk grows as he states knowingly, “You’re continual use of ‘What do you need Wayne?’ sounds very similar to a well-known movie reference.”

This time, it takes no time for Lex to give a challenging look, his tone smug, “You think I’m ‘Westley’ing you?”  

Leaning back to look relaxed, Bruce gives a soft shrug as he replies, “Princess Bride is a classic.  Either way, others would find your continual questions charming.”   Bruce then gives a smoldering look, his voice coming out warm and low, “I have found it quite satisfying .”

The lustful look causes Lex to slowly sit up straighter, a small, knowing grin appearing on his face.  He leans forward slightly, his tone deep and smooth, “If we have been trying , I do not believe we have been trying hard enough.”

Bruce matches his grin as he slowly stands up.  With slow, predatorial steps, he walks over to Lex and leans over him.  Lex looks up at him, slowly but confidently hooking his fingers in one of Bruce’s belt loops and gives him a tug.  Following the pull, Bruce straddles Lex and slowly sinks into his lap.  Up close, Bruce watches the interest and satisfaction spark in Lex’s eyes as Lex’s hands settle on his thighs.  Bending down, Bruce gently, slowly presses his lips to Lex’s.  

The kiss is just as soft and chaste as their first kiss eight months ago.  Until it wasn’t.  Lex pushes up against Bruce, snaking his arms tightly around Bruce’s waist, pulling him in.  As their lips open to meet each other, Lex kisses like a man drowning, like Bruce is the breath he's been searching for.  As Lex’s hand cradles the back of his head relevantly, and as tongues meet in a gasping prayer, Bruce thinks maybe he found something too.

When they finally part in gasping breaths, Lex looks up at Bruce with tempered fire in his eyes.  His voice carrying the resolve of a thousand convictions, slow and grave.  “What do you need Wayne?”

Bruce almost chases those lips, but stops himself to consider the question.  He rests his forehead against Lex’s and thinks about the implications, the mere idea of trying this.  And as he thinks back on the past eight months, of all the things he’s seen, learned, and missed, he’s sure of one thing. 

He wants to give Lex Luthor a try. 

Bruce smiles kind and sure, his voice heavy with conviction, yet light with mirth, “You.”

Lex's answer causes Bruce to laugh before caving in, dipping down to taste those lips and the cocky grin that splayed across them.

“As you wish.”

Notes:

*And then there were sexy times.*

So, hey guys! We are at the half way marker! We are half way through the story! Woot!

That said, I just need to say a woof and a big thank you! When I penned the first chapter last year, I had no idea where this story was going, and I deserted it for a year and a half! And then I came back, and it has been come my pride and joy! And I'm so happy for all of you that are here for this journey! From your kudos to your comments, y'all have been joys to cater to! I hope y'all enjoy the second half of this story that I have planned!

Side note, that year and a half ago, I had flagged this story Mature, cause I didn't know where I expected this story to go, but I wanted to give myself the option. And when I was able to finally get a full outline for this story, I actually found one chapter that I wanted to write sexy times with meaningful plot and that gentle romance that I had planned for the boys. However, woof. Just writing this chapter's end made me blush. When I actually get to my one sexy time chapter, it will probably be the death of me. ><

Chapter 18: The Sins

Summary:

Small moments and big fights don't mix.

Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor are dating trying.  Though neither would admit it was easy or smooth, they will both agree that it surprisingly works.  However, when two powerful, stubborn, controlling men come together in a relationship, it does not take long for flaws and sins to be revealed.  And as they review the last two months, they will both say without a doubt, this has been one of the most trying relationships they’ve had.

---

Bruce wakes up to fingers gently combing through his hair.  As he slowly pulls himself out of sleep, he opens his eyes to see Luthor sitting next to him on the bed, already dressed.  Lex gives him a soft smile, his voice low, “I need to head back to Metro.”

Bruce blinks the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, but stays laying down.  With a frown, he takes in Lex’s appearance, “That’s my shirt.”

Lex’s smile turns into a smirk, his tone cocky, “Is that a problem?”

With a slow shake of his head, Bruce softly chuckles, “You seem to be accumulating quite a few of them.”

Lex bends down to give him a goodbye kiss. As he leaves, he says over his shoulder, “Next time you are in Metro, you can come liberate them from my evil clutches.”

Bruce tries not to smile.

---

When Bruce does make it to Metropolis the next week, Lex’s tower is his last stop.  He is let in by Mercy, who leaves behind him with a wink, and a firm but smug, “Be good.”  

Bruce finds Lex in the kitchen, who has just finished putting down a small cheese plate on the kitchen island.  Bruce sits down on one of the stools, curiously inspecting the plate, “I thought you can’t eat dairy.”

Lex answers over his shoulder as he washes his hands, “Indeed.  You, however, can.  As such, you are now a willing participant in a tasting.”  After drying his hands, Lex pulls out two chilled pint glasses and a beer bottle out of the fridge.  Bruce smirks, “And what could you be pairing with blue cheese?”

Lex just raises an eyebrow coyly while he opens the beer and pours half into the first glass.  As he passes the glass to Bruce, Bruce takes it and gives a sniff.  Tilting his head in consideration, his face and voice curious, “A pumpkin ale?”

Finishing pouring the other glass, Lex puts the beer bottle down in front of Bruce to inspect.  The label is black and white, the design clearly an early draft.  Bruce reads the name and the tagline, “Konstant Piety.  Designed to make even the Gods tipsy.”  After reading it, Bruce looks up to Lex in disbelief, “Kon-stant Pie-ty?”  His voice turns smug, “Lex, did you make a pumpkin ale that can make Kryptonians drunk?”

Lex takes a slow drink from his cup before answering nonchalantly, “Is his birthday not coming up soon?”

Bruce says deadpan, “His eighth birthday.”  

Lex gives Bruce an unamused look, his voice dull, “Since his Kansas license says he will be turning twenty one this year, I see no fault in my reasoning.  He has the physical maturity of a twenty one year old, and from my evaluation, his mental maturity matches that of his peers.”

Bruce tries to stop his grin.  

“So, you made him beer.  Beer that can get him drunk.”

Picking up the empty bottle, Lex gives it a curious look, “That is my intent, but I fear it will take a few tests to be sure.”

Having not yet taken a drink, Bruce asks with the smallest note of doubt, “And it's safe to drink?”

Lex turns the bottle over so Bruce can read a secondary tagline, “Safe for mortal konsumption.”  

Bruce guffaws, shaking his head softly before taking a sip of the ale.  Lex’s smile turns soft, “If you would be so kind to deliver the first batch to him on his birthday, I would appreciate knowing the results.”

Bruce stops and slowly rests his cup on the counter.  He asks calmly as if talking to a spooked animal, his words soft, “Would you like to be there?”

Lex himself seems to slow, his face falling into thought.  And with words firm but dripped in disappointment, he replies, “No.”  Before Bruce can ask, Lex continues, “From what I have gathered, this will be Conner’s first birthday with his friends sans masks.  That is something that should be cherished, not tarnished with the awkwardness of meeting me.”

Bruce reaches across the counter and gently grabs Lex’s hand, his words earnest, “Is that out of consideration or is that out of fear?”

Lex’s answer is equally earnest, “Both.”

Bruce tries to smile.

The soft-spoken tone is back when Bruce gently asks, “Would you consider coming to Thanksgivings?”

Lex gives half a broken smile as he laces his fingers with Bruce’s, “I will consider it.”

---

Bruce wakes up to a light slowly shining in his face.  He rolls onto his stomach, squishing his face into a pillow.  As the light continues to shine around him, he throws a pillow at the source blindly.  A soft thump against glass is heard, yet the light never ceases.  A deep chuckle rumbles next to him, a warm voice commenting, “That would be the sun.”

Bruce tries to burrow deeper into the blankets.

Being unsuccessful, he turns his head out of the pillow, towards Lex’s voice.  Slowly, he peaks his eyes open.  He finds that Lex is sitting up in bed next to him, already dressed, reading a book.  Bruce grunts, then throws his arm around Lex’s waist, pulling him closer in hopes of using his body to block out the sun.  His words come out tired and bitter, muffled by fabric, “Must it be everywhere?”

Lex cards a hand through Bruce’s hair, his voice full of soft mirth, “That was my intent when I installed full glass walls.”

Bruce grunts before changing subjects, “Why are you dressed?”

Still amused, Lex’s tone turns playful, “Because, like the glorious sun, I have already risen.  I have worked out, and eaten, and yet, somehow I have found myself back in bed.”

Peeking an eye open in curiosity, Bruce asks, “Why?”

Not taking his eye off his book, Lex answers truthfully, “I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

Bruce tries not to blush.

---

At the next event, Dick corners them.  Lex had just arrived when Dick looped his arm around him and steered him and Bruce into the walk-in coat closet.  Dick shuts the door behind them before turning pointedly at both of them, pointing his finger back and forth.  “So.  Are you two dating?  Like, can I talk about this?”

While Bruce frowns in confusion, Lex’s face turns concerned before smoothing into a look of professionalism, “Of course. Richard.  I believe we should be upfront if you have any concerns about our relationship.”

Dick frowns before he starts to laugh, though it's a little high pitched as he waves his hands dismissively, “What, no!  I get it!  You two are together.  You two aren’t being subtle.  B is spending extra nights in Metro, I’m getting more Batman shifts.”  His hands come to a stop in front of him in a sign of indifference, “I’m okay with that.  I’m okay with you two. No, I’m talking about whether you and ‘Brucie Wayne’ are official.”

Lex gives a soft smile at Dick’s acceptance, before answering with complete confidence, “I have no qualms dating Brucie Wayne.”   

This causes both Dick and Bruce to turn in shocked disbelief, Dick sneering, “Really?”

Lex looks between them with an eyebrow raised.  Then with a dull, bored tone, he states, “If I want to date a floozy, eccentric business rival, I will.”  Lex waits for them to process that before slowly turning to Bruce, “However, if you see a benefit for keeping the status quo between us...”

Bruce falls into Brucie Wayne, looping his arms around Lex’s shoulders, leaning against him so he can bat his eyes at him, his smile flirtatious, “Oh, and I would have you!  But, you must admit, having all the pappies in a tizzy has been too much fun.”

Lex looks down at Bruce with a knowing smirk, looping an arm around Bruce’s waist, “Indeed.  And Angela would hate it if I let her lose her own betting pool.”

Bruce stands up to kiss Lex, but is stopped by Dick’s soft, painful, “Please don’t.”  Both Lex and Bruce straighten up and take half a step away from each other.  Dick mouths a soft thank you before confirming, “Alright, so nothing official.  You two aren’t ‘dating.’”

Lex and Bruce share a knowing smile, and Lex answers, “No, we are not dating.”  Then he turns his smirk to Dick, “Though.  I do wonder what everyone will say when the three of us walk out of here together.”  

Dick pales, “Fuck.”  

Lex chuckles and loops his arm through Dick’s, motioning Bruce to get Dick’s other arm.  Arm in arm, Lex leads them to the door, “Don’t worry, Richard.  I’ve never been ashamed of anything in my life.”

Dick frowns at the two arms gently dragging him to the door, “You’re going to cause a scene, aren’t you?”

Lex’s smile turns into a shark’s grin, “Oh Richard.  People like us, we don’t cause a scene.  We are the scene.”  With that, Lex opens the door, and loudly starts talking as if he was in the middle of a conversation, his voice mockingly sincere, “Richard, if you truly, deeply believe that it is love at first sight, and she is the one, then you must follow your heart. Propose to her.  Only then will you know the truth of her heart.”

As Dick realizes the trap that Lex just dropped him in, he yanks his arms free so he can turn around and face Lex with a terrified look, “What?!  That’s not -”

But Lex’s words had echoed across the room, and like a swarm of wasps to a picnic, the paparazzi heard the word propose and scurried across the ballroom towards Dick.  The closest ones instantly start shouting quick fire questions about weddings and who’s the lucky girl!

Bruce and Lex slowly sink into the background, avoiding the crowd as Dick tries to escape the rabid reporters.  Once safely away, Bruce turns to Lex, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “That was evil.”

Lex is still watching the horde of reporters chase after Dick, “It was.”  Lex then tilts his head to Bruce, giving him a secretive smile, “But what a perfect distraction for us to make an escape as well.”  

Bruce tries not to laugh.

---

Bruce has broken many bones in his body, and the most common has been his ribs.  On every occasion, he had wrapped them, iced them, and moved on with his night.  However, like clockwork, every time he broke his ribs, Alfred would try and get him to rest, to see Dr. Thompson. 

But last night, upon discovering Bruce had broken two of his ribs, Alfred had just tutted at Bruce, wrapped his ribs and sent him to bed.  Bruce took it with a grain of salt.  He was tired, he was in pain, and he was ready for bed.  

Bruce should have been suspicious.

 

“Good morning Bruce.”

Bruce wakes to a hand petting his hair, a quickly common occurrence that he’s warmed up to.

Bruce tries not to hum.

Bruce peaks an eye open to find Lex sitting on the side of his bed.  Lex is wearing his normal business attire, however he still has his overcoat and scarf on, gloves discarded on the bed next to him.  It is clear Lex had just arrived.  

Bruce frowns in concern, but tries to keep his voice light, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lex sits back so he can look at Bruce solemnly, his voice neutral, “I came to see you before your meeting.”

Bruce’s frown deepens, “And how do you know I have a-”

As he is talking, Lex gently, but firmly lays a hand against Bruce’s bandaged ribs.  Lex’s ice cold hand causes Bruce to stiffen against the surprise and pain.

Bruce tries not to flinch.

Lex raises an eyebrow in response, his voice still boringly neutral, “Alfred had concerns.”

Bruce loosens up and sinks back in bed, leaving Lex’s hand against his ribs.  He is unamused as he says, “So he tattled?”

A soft smirk is Lex’s answer, “On the contrary.  He consulted a doctor concerning injuries of a loved one.”

Bruce gives a put upon glare, his voice dry, “They are broken ribs.  Just a mere inconvenience.”

Lex takes his hand back so he can cross his arms in his lap.  Bruce instantly misses the cold that was easing the dull pain.  Lex’s voice is mockingly curious as he asks, “Do you know what is a mere inconvenience?  Cancelling morning meetings.  Traveling to Gotham short notice, to the delight of Angela.  Getting a doctor’s opinion.”

The tone turns condescending as Lex tilts his head, “Do you know what isn’t?  Internal bleeding.  Infection.  Death.  And since these beautifully broken ribs are right over the much needed liver, I would rather we took a look.”

Bruce tries to fight that logic.

With a sigh, Bruce tries to placate, “I will after my meeting.”

With no room to argue, Lex demands, “Send Richard.”

Bruce frowns, curtly answering, “It is a Justice League meeting.”

Lex raises an eyebrow, not backing down, “So?”  This causes Bruce to falter.  Lex continues on, “You have been grooming Richard to be Batman.  Why not send him?”  Bruce refuses to answer, but Lex can see him considering it.  With that, Lex gently grabs Bruce’s blanket, gently tucking it in around his hips, casually continuing, “If this meeting is a normal meeting, consider it a test run.”

Lex then leans down to kiss Bruce, which Bruce allows.  It is a small, swift press of lips, and when Lex raises, he whispers against Bruce’s lips, “I’ll send you my Livefire theses to read.”

Bruce tries not to growl.

He gives Lex a stern glare, his voice bitter but an undercurrent of mirth softens the edge, “That’s cheating.”

Lex grins victoriously.  “It is a doctor’s duty to do everything in their capacity to make sure their patient is taken care of.”  The grin softens to a smile, Lex’s words sincere, “I’m not asking you to do nothing.  I’m asking that you rest.  Let Richard be Batman for a day.  Let Alfred dote on you.  Let yourself be amazed by the glory that is my mind.  Let your ribs heal.”

After slowly considering it, Bruce finally frowns, but it's more of a pout, “I don’t like you and Alfred ganging up on me.”

Lex smiles knowingly as he stands up, grabbing his gloves, “And I am sure he will not hear the end of it.”

Bruce glares suspiciously, ”And where do you think you are going?”

With a smirk, Lex turns around and heads to the door, waving his gloves in one hand, “This was just a doctor’s visit, Bruce.  Do feel better!”

And left alone in his room, Bruce tries to just rest.

---

It is Alfred that answers the door. Lex smiles at him, nervously softly wishing him a Happy Thanksgiving.  However, as Alfred takes his coat, Lex knows that today isn’t going to be the day he expected it to be.  

Alfred frowns, his words formal yet stiff with disappointment, “I am sorry Master Alexander.  You have just missed them.”

Lex frowns, confusion clear on his face, “All of them?”

Alfred gives a stiff nod, “I do apologize.  There seems to be an attack on multiple nuclear reactors around the world.  They have all been summoned.”

Alfred watches as Lex’s face turns stern, his voice heavy with disappointment, “I’m surprised I’m the last to know.”

A heavy sigh flutters in Alfred’s chest at the anger that Lex is displaying.  He steps forward, his words earnest, “Master Alexander, I do beg of you.  Do not think that due to the last minute crisis that you weren’t considered in this unfortunate circumstance.”   

Alfred’s words cause Lex to pause.  He gives a stiff but small smile as he gently puts his hand on Alfred’s shoulder.  With a soft shake of his head, he assures Alfred, his voice almost playful, “Alfred.  I understand that when it comes to world destruction, I will be a low priority.  That is not why I am upset.  I am upset for I own two nuclear reactors, and it is in my best interest to be notified if they are ever at risk.”

With that, he lifts his hand, and pulls out his phone.  “As such, I will need a few minutes outside to discuss the situation with some of my directors.  Once done, maybe you will humor me by sampling some of the new beers I brought?”

Alfred stands up a little straighter, giving a nod and sister smile, “Very good, sir.  I’m sure they will pair well with a few of the pies I have made.”  

 

That is how Alfred and Lex spent Thanksgiving alone, drinking beer, eating pie and watching the news for any update on the current world crisis.  And while they watched on live tv as Superman flies a French reactor core into the atmosphere, they both sigh in relief.  

But the relief is destroyed when the South African nuclear reactor melts.

And when the reports come that a third reactor was supposed to be destroyed, yet none show signs of disaster, Lex gets a call.  With a short, but sincere farewell, Lex heads to work.  

Lex tries not to curse.

---

On Monday, when Bruce walks into Lex’s office, while he might have Brucie’s smile and swagger, Lex can tell that this isn’t Brucie.  It isn’t even Bruce.  Even without the mask, even without the armor, Lex knows that Batman is here to interrogate.  But that’s alright.  Lex has been expecting Batman to show up since the nuclear crisis.  Since his nuclear reactor failed to blow up.

Lex doesn’t greet him.  He returns to his work, waiting for Batman to start this conversation.  And Batman waits too.  He waits for the door to shut firmly behind him.  He waits for Lex to acknowledge him.  And then he waits for his temper and his words to fall in place.  Finally, he walks up to Lex’s desk and speaks, his words short and clipped, “Your Delaware reactor core didn’t melt down.”

Lex doesn’t look up, just answers firmly, clinically, “Correct.  When the terrorist meta evaporated the coolant, a failsafe neutralized the uranium core, rendering it harmless.”

Even though he isn’t looking at Batman, Lex can see him bristle in his peripheral.  Batman’s words are bitter and condemning, “You had a failsafe that can neutralize a nuclear meltdown.”

Putting down his pen, Lex sighs deeply as he finally looks at Batman, “It was in trial.  We were testing its capabilities.”

Batman snarls as he glares, “For you to have it in use in your nuclear reactors, it’s beyond trial.  You had a working means to neutralize a meltdown and -”

Lex interrupts before he can continue, matching Batman’s glare with his own, “ One of my reactors.  While I was confident in testing, I was not confident in mass production.”  Lex’s words coming out vicious and stern,  “I do not mistake blind faith for reason.  I will not have you accuse me of holding back something this important because I was selfish or prideful. We have seen the destruction a nuclear meltdown can cause.  I was not going to put that risk in the hands of my own hubris.”

Batman slams his hands down on Lex’s desk, glaring down at Lex, his words biting, “But it worked.  It worked, and if the South African reactor had your failsafe, it wouldn’t have blown up!”

Lex leans back, keeping his calm in the wake of Batman’s rage.  “So it worked.  And you have this blind faith in what?  That it will always work?  That I make things so flawless, they can’t be faulty?  If I had released the patent to the world, would you have trusted the one in France?  Would you have put the fate of Europe in my hands or Superman’s?”

Batman scoffs, “This isn’t about favoritism.  Even if there was an off chance of it not working, I would happily take the chance of it working.  You could have prevented South Africa’s destruction!”

Lex shrugs, “Or I could have made it even worse.”

Batman slams his hands on the desk again, “People are dying!”

Lex smiles.  It starts out small, but grows in size, bitter and brittle and edged.  And as Lex stares up at Batman, his eyes get dark with malicious glee.  And a persona Batman hasn’t seen in years comes out.  

Luthor the Villain grins a manic grin, his words toying, “I was wondering when we’d get here, Bruce .”  Luthor stands up.  Bruce straightens up to look him in the eye, not backing up, but no longer on the assault as he accesses the change.

Luthor raises an eyebrow in challenge, “Come on, Bruce.  Just say it.  I’m killing people.”

Bruce tries not to flinch.

Luthor sees it all the same, his grin growing even wider, “It’s because I’m a killer.  I’ve killed these people with my negligence.  Not my negligence of pride, but by my negligence of being too cautious.”

Bruce tries to interrupt, “That’s not what-”

Luthor interrupts harshly, mockingly, “‘Not what you meant?  Not what you said?’” He sneers, “You’ve already said more than enough.  You didn’t come here to talk, you came here to fight.  So, tell me Bruce.  Did you come here cause you still see me as a villain, or did you come here cause you want me to feel as guilty as you do?”

Bruce tries not to jerk back.

Seeing that he hit his mark, Luthor’s smiles a small, tight smile before it falls into a frown.  “No one knows guilt like we do, Bruce.  So do yourself a favor and rethink why you are here.  Because while I might have offered to help you carry your guilt, if you think for one second you can shove your guilt on me, I will return it tenfold .”

Bruce tries not to frown.

Lex smirks, “Don’t believe me?  If you think my patent could have stopped that nuclear meltdown, then you can have it.  I will have my clerk write up a transfer of property.  For only one dollar.”  And with that, Luthor extends his hand in a show, as if expecting Bruce to hand over the dollar right now.  When Bruce doesn’t make a move, Luthor goads him, “Now don’t be coy Bruce .  You want to believe that somehow I am to share in your guilt, so be it.  Prove that the nuclear meltdown is really my fault all along.  Prove that in the right hands, this patent could and will prevent every nuclear meltdown from here on out.  Prove your dogmatic beliefs and morals will always beat the pragmatic.”

Stuck in a trap of his own making, Bruce is helpless.  No matter what he does, while the blow hasn’t landed, he knows that the damage has already been done.  He can only decide which would hurt the worst.  He needs to decline the patent.  However, doing so would mean admitting things he’s not ready to admit.  But accepting the patent proves that he wants to blame Lex for his emotional turmoil.  

And while he knows he’s making the wrong choice, with slow, jerky motions, Bruce pulls out his wallet and hands over the first bill he grabs.  Lex snatches it from his hand, biting out bitterly, “Let’s have the blood on your ledger for once.”  And with that, he crumples the bill up and throws it into the trashcan by his desk. He glares at Bruce with cold eyes and gives a harsh jab at the door.  He spits out, “Now get out of my office, Wayne.”  

Bruce tries not to flee.

 

Bruce tries to process.

Bruce tries to not to overthink.

Bruce tries to give Lex space.

 

Bruce goes to see Lex the next day.  However, instead of directing him to the penthouse, the doorman puts him in the elevator to the basement.  In all the years, as Bruce and as Batman, he has never been in the Lex Tower basement.  

Bruce tries not to worry. 

As he comes out of the elevator, he enters a large, white room.  The only fixture in the room is a door on the wall opposite of the elevator.  Mercy is leaning on the wall next to the door, her arms crossed with an unamused look on her face.  

As Bruce nears her, she speaks, her words echoing around him, “You fucked up Wayne.”

Bruce tries not to flinch.

As he nears, he tries to ask but his question falls off, “Is he..?”

Mercy sighs and rolls her eyes, “He’s fine.  I mean, he was a little manic last night, but he’s pretty much back to normal.”

Bruce tries to feel relieved.

He gently motions around the empty room, “Then why are we down here?”

Mercy grins, but there’s a sharp edge to it, “You opened a can of worms, and now Lex wants to show off .”

Bruce frowns, “You don’t seem too worried.”

Mercy shrugs, “You have dealt with the Joker for eons.  I’m sure you can deal with an obsessed, manic Lex Luthor."  

With that, she opens the door for him.  However, before he steps in, she replies, “And if you can’t, I’ll just kill ya once and for all.”

Ignoring the death threat, Bruce walks through the door.

He walks into a huge expansive room.  While it is clean and well lit, the air is heavy and musky, like it hasn’t been used in awhile.  As he looks around the room, while he wouldn’t call it cluttered, the entire room is full.  With only a narrow walkway down the center leading to another room, the rest of the room is covered; from tables and bulletin boards, to display cases and file cabinets.  With a quick scan, he sees that this room is dedicated solely to the Justice League.  The first, and biggest, section is clearly focused on Superman, from the car with its roof ripped off, to the bulletin boards covered in photos of caves, spacecraft, and Kryptonian script.  

Bruce tries not to get distracted.

He ends up scanning the bulletin boards and the tables, finding maps of early sittings, reviews of Kent’s writing, vials of particles that Superman left behind at scenes, and more.  Every board and surface is a tapestry of obsession; everything dissecting and analyzing anything and everything Clark Kent and Superman oriented.

And as Bruce moves on, he finds similar setups for all of the original League members.  Every one of them analyzed and picked apart, from pictures and videos, down to audio recordings dissecting their dialects.  Through it all, everything is hand written, from facts to speculations. A recognized sign of someone too paranoid to make their data digital.

The last section of the room is dedication to Batman.  And while his section seems just as full and busy as the others, Bruce can tell that there seems to be more precision, more focus directed to Batman.  Things seem a little straighter, the analysis more detailed.  While he didn’t have an issue walking through the others, having proof that someone was so hyper-critical of him made Bruce walk past towards the lone back door.

Bruce enters into a small, dark theater with one large chair in the center of the room.  Lex is sitting, watching a video playing on screen, a grainy looking clip mostly taken on a phone.  It is an old video of the Justice League fighting one of Lex’s first creations.  As Bruce walks up to the chair, he watches Batman dodge a laser beam.  Turning his attention away, he softly speaks, “Lex?”  

Lex doesn’t look away from the screen, but he asks in a neutral, soft voice, “What do you need, Wayne?”

Bruce tries not to sag in relief.

Bruce doesn’t have an answer.  Not this time.  He turns to the screen as the clip ends and another one starts.  Another fight between Lex and the League.  After a few minutes, Lex starts talking, his tone even and casual, “How did you like the Room?  I’ve only shown a few people my ‘obsession’.”  Lex finally looks at Bruce from the corner of his eye, “Though, I always thought you’d take it the best.”  He turns his eyes back to the screen, “I’m sure you have a file on me with equal parts dedication.”

Bruce can only hum in response. Lex tilts his head in consideration, “Tell me Bruce.  Does my file have my kill count?”

Bruce tries not to freeze.

He answers softly, “Yes.”

Lex only nods sagely, “But I’m curious.  Is that kill count just the people I killed with my own hands?  Or do you count the casualties?  Do you count my own people that died by lab hazards or mere accidents?”

This time Lex slowly turns his whole body to stare at Bruce, and he gently taps his temple as he talks, “Cause I know my kill count Bruce.  And I have a feeling it's greater than you think.”  Lex motions to the room behind them, “I wanted to share with you my magnum opus, to remind you what you’ve gotten yourself into.  Because I am a killer.  I have killed people.  And if you must bring it up, I want you to really know.  Not just hypotheticals and numbers.  I want you to know the truth.  I have killed people.”

Bruce just stands in silence, his face pensive.  Seeing that Bruce is refusing to respond, Lex sighs softly as he turns back to the screen.  Lost in thought, his words coming out a tired confession,“There are people that I looked in the eye as I shot them, killed them, pushed them over the edge. People that I ordered to die. For getting in my way. For threatening things I held dear, people that I held dear.  For having even more broken morals than me. People that made me regret my own life.  I reveled in their demise. I stand at their graves and grin at their defeat.  They died because they got in my way.”

He whispers in a vehement and reverent tone, “Their deaths were worth it.”

With the confession, Lex leans back into the chair.  The same tired voice is back, but this time, it sounds broken and sad, “Then there are those that are the nameless. The casualties.  The cost of survival.  When you go up against God for the supremacy of mankind, there will be destruction.  There will be death.  Those that died in the fallout of my way , my ‘grudge’ , my ideals. I don’t know if they were worth it…” 

Lex again makes eye contact with Bruce, “While I call them nameless, I have their names.  All of them. List upon list.  Like pennies, they add up.  Save them up and you could be rich, but keep losing them, and you will soon be destitute.  But they say life is priceless… so I won’t forget them, for whatever that is worth.”

Lex smirks, though it isn’t humorous, “Isn’t life funny.  Seeing how quickly we can value things, and disregard things.  I’ve discarded lives for my ideals.  I discarded morals.”  He looks Bruce up and down, inspecting, “And yet I discarded those ideals for you.  And for what?  I doubt you will ever forgive me for my transgressions.”

Finally breaking his silence, Bruce sighs softly, “I have forgiven you.”

Bruce expects Lex’s harsh laugh, and the haughty tone, “But I’ve killed people Bruce.”

Bruce shrugs, “And I’ve hurt them.”  This causes Lex to slowly frown.  Bruce continues, “Lex, I hurt people.  I’ve hurt you.”  Unable to refute it, Lex stays quiet.  Bruce looks at the screen, but not really watching.  

Then he confesses, “Yesterday you said I was feeling guilty.  I wasn’t guilty, I was terrified.”  Bruce has Lex’s full attention, his eyes curious.  Taking a deep breath, Bruce looks to Lex and continues.  “When I heard they were targeting your Delaware power plant, that they were causing a nuclear meltdown, my heart stopped.  But it wasn’t for the fear that Metropolis would be in the fallout.  I was terrified that when you heard about the attacks, you would have gone to your closest reactor to investigate.”  Realization dawns on Lex’s face.  Bruce, slowly, gently in fear of being refused, cups Lex’s cheek in his hand, “I had an unreasonable fear that the meltdown would kill you.”  

Bruce kneels next to Lex’s chair to look him in the eyes earnestly, “And what is the first thing I did when I felt on loose footing, when I felt unsure of my feelings?  I lashed out. I was uncaring and reckless.  I said those words with the intent to hurt you.”  Listening intently, Lex gently grabs Bruce’s wrist.  Bruce smiles sadly as he continues, “I hurt people Lex. Even the ones I love. When I can’t process my emotions, I lash out.  Even when my own son was reigning as the Red Hood.  Instead of trying to understand him, I hurt him.  In the heat of the moment, blinded by my emotions, I almost killed my own son.”

And as Bruce looks up into Lex’s eyes, he sees understanding.  With sharp realization, Bruce snaps his eyes back to the screen.  As another clip plays, this time Bruce watches with intent.  He sees one of Lex’s robots toss Batman into a wall.  All of the clips were specifically Batman versus Lex Luthor.  Bruce whispers, “Just like you almost killed me….”

Lex follows his line of sight and speaks softly, “Back then, you were just a nameless.  Just another to fall in the struggles of my ideals.  You would have just been another name on the list.”  Lex turns to Bruce and mirrors him, gently cupping Bruce’s face in his hands.  He speaks like a truth, a promise, a revelation of a broken man, “I could have killed you.”

Bruce leans forward, pressing his forehead to Lex’s, “Yet I’m still here.  We both are still here.”  He presses a gentle kiss to Lex’s lips.  Feeling Lex press back causes Bruce to sigh.  Then softly, he demands, “Ask me again.”

Lex looks at him, his voice solemn but a small twinkle in his eye, “What do you need, Wayne?”

Bruce smiles at him and answers truthfully, “I need to process my emotions better.”  He then asks sincerely, “But what I want?  I want us to keep trying.”

Lex kisses him, slow and deep.  As he comes away, he whispers softly, “I don’t think I could stop.”

Notes:

Wowzer! So, I wanted to delve a little into having a vicious Luthor and an emotionally constipated Bruce. And, this was literally the only chapter I could fit it in. Every other chapter was taken by loves and good feels, and forced bonding. That said, this turned out even better than I anticipated. I hope you like the small dose of turmoil. Drama mama, drama mama!

Chapter 19: The First Step

Summary:

Talks and walks do mix.

Bruce stayed the night.   

And in the dimly lit living room, they talked.  While their friendship came easy due to the calm comradery they found in silent moments, their relationship came sure as they spoke softly of their feelings.  

Bruce talked about his fear of losing people.  From the death of his parents to the loss of Jason, how he was unable to process and contain his emotions to devastating effects.  How both times almost broke him.  He talked about how he has gained so many people in his life that the thought of losing even one paralyzes him.  He softly confessed that while he had considered Lex his friend, his other , he didn’t realize that Lex was that significant until he feared for Lex’s life.

Lex talked about his regrets, about the tarnish his hubris had stained his name with.  In hindsight, how his past actions could have destroyed one of his most prized possessions, his current obsession.  That dwelling on what-ifs can spiral him into that crazed, manic person he was years past, and he does everything in power to refuse to indulge that monster.  How he fears the days to come where his help would be denied because of his past actions.  He confessed that he knows that to some people he will always be the villain, and it baffles him that Bruce could see past all he has done.  How Bruce can acknowledge that Lex has killed people, but not call him a killer.

And in the darkness of Lex’s room, wrapped up in each other’s arms, they apologized.  Sorry’s were given with quiet voices, pressed lips and soft caresses.  Neither promised it wouldn’t happen again.  They were both too wise, too old, too bitter.  They knew that they could not promise the impossible: that these fights would not happen again, that they would be better.

But they did agree that they understood.  That for men as prideful and stubborn as them, they were bound to be victims of their own emotions.  So, when the days come where they are in each other’s faces, they know that they will yell, bite, and bark.  But when they finally step away, they will be lenient in accepting that they are just flawed men.  Flawed men that are trying.

---

The late morning finds Bruce slouched over the kitchen island, his head buried in his arms.  “Why must you be a morning person?”  Lex gives no answer, just softly pats Bruce’s head as he walks into the kitchen.  Mercy cackles from next to the coffee machine, but in an act of mercy, pulls out an extra cup to pour Bruce a cup of coffee.  She gently sets the cup next to him as she leaves the kitchen, “Drink up, sunshine.  We need to be out of here in half an hour.”  

Bruce sits up to curiously to watch Mercy leave.  Turning his attention to Lex, he asks, “We?  Somewhere we have to be?”

At the question, Lex turns around.  He has a put upon look on his face, but there is a mischievous glint in his eye, “Did you forget we have a lunch date at Livefire?”  

Surprise flashes across Bruce’s face as he grabs his phone to check the date.  “That’s today.”  He looks back at Lex with awe and excitement, “Today’s the day.”

Lex smirks, his tone soft with humor, “Today is the day.”

---

Barbara hates today and it's all Bruce's fault.

Truthfully, she’s not sure how Bruce convinced her to do this.  She has no interest in prosthetics, bionics, or exo-skeletal supports.  They are experimental and clunky, even more of an eyesore than a wheelchair.  They are slow and awkward, lacking the finesse she would want.  As such, when she was paralyzed by the Joker years ago, she had accepted her lot. She would never walk again.  She was wheelchair bound.  And she grew quite fine with that.

Yet, today she finds herself not only in a LexCorp faculty, but also being fitted for exoskeletal, robotic braces.  And she hates it with a passion. 

Having to spend most of her days sitting in front of a computer, and dealing with the difficulties of a handicapped life, Barbara has the patience of a Tibetan monk.  Yet today is the day where her patience is tested to a breaking point.  And the breaking point is going to be this doctor's nose.

Doctor Turner is an ass.  Upon meeting him, Barbara knew that he was an arogrant, cocky man with no bedside manner.  The entire morning was just proof of his arrogance.  The first thing he did was call her Subject 1, something that continues throughout the trial.  He then ignores most of her questions, only talking to her when he deemed it important to the trial.  The resting bitch face he wears doesn't help his cause.  While a lesser person would have blown up already, Barbara is better than that.  Through the years she has learned an excessive amount of restraint and tact, so she grins and bares the situation as he places a hard, plastic sensor band across her forehead. 

Turner’s dull, emotionless voice grates on her nerves, “We will commence calibrating Subject 1’s LiveLimbs.”  He turns to her and gives her a bored look, “Don’t move.”

As she sits motionless, Barbara inspects the room, which is easy since all the walls are panels of mirrors.  Her wheelchair is parked on the edge of a thick, soft mat that covers most of the room's floor.  On the mat there are multiple sets of walking hand rails and a few balancing beams.  The only other occupant of the room is a male nurse who is standing by the door like a guard.  As if she’d run with the braces.  Heh.  Run.  Who are they joking.  Just out of spite, Barbara doubts the bracers will even work the first time around.

The braces, she doesn’t have as many complaints. Like normal leg braces, they are made up of support bars running down both sides of her legs, as well as one that runs down the back of her calf all the way to the base of her heel.  All the bars are kept in place by multitudes of straps and small flexible panels.   The things that stand out are the two glowing batteries that are sitting on the top of her thighs, and the dozens of censors attached up and down her legs and all over her feet.  

The bracers look thinner than she expected, though her only reference was what she’s seen in fictional movies so she’s not sure if she should be happy or complain.  That said, she is concerned that there doesn’t seem to be any support or boots for her feet.  She had asked Turner but he just answered nonchalantly, not looking up from his tablet, “This test is to see if you will need such things.”

So as she waits for the calibration, she tries not to fume. And she waits.  And waits.  After everything she had to deal with today, it seems that her patience is about to come to an end.  The calibration seems to be taking forever and she’s getting cold.  They had her strip down to her undergarments to put the braces on, and the air conditioning seems to be on max, blowing ice cold air into the room.  Barbara tries not to rub her arms, tries to keep still.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees movement, but before she can pinpoint the source, Turner interrupts, “Calibration complete.  Cassius, the beam.”  The nurse by the door, a big bulking man walks to the matted area and wheels one of the balancing beams in front of Barbara and locks it in place.  The beam is only a yard long and heavily padded, and about waist height.  Cassius raises the beam until its four feet off the ground.  

Turner nods and then tells Barbara in the same condescending voice, “The next calibration requires your legs straight and vertical.  Will you be able to hold your own weight, or will Cassius need to hold you?”  

Barbara has been using her arms to push and pull her body around for years.  It is a test of will not to growl at him.  With a tight smile and clipped voice, she answers, “I can hold my own.”  

He just tuts and looks back at his tablet, “Cassius.  Up.”  Cassius, an apparent mute, walks behind her wheelchair and grabs her by her hips and raises her up to the bars.  She grabs the beam and pulls herself up, keeping her arms straight so that her legs hang down without touching the ground.  And again she waits.

Time seems to drag on and soon her arms get tired.  However, she refuses to concede to the challenge.  She closes her eyes to keep her mind on task.  Eventually, right as she’s about to reposition her hands, Turner speaks, “Done.  We will begin testing if the LiveLimbs will hold your weight in standing position.  I will now lower the beam slowly.”  

As she is lowered, Cassius kneels next to her, his hands positioning her feet so they will lay flat on the ground.  The LiveLimbs make small noises as the heel brace touches the ground and adjust to her weight.  Once her feet are completely secure on the ground, the LiveLimbs lock in place, the support keeping her legs stiff and in position. Turner moves her wheelchair away, and comes to stand behind her, his words terse, “Now let go of the bar.”

Barbara let’s go and finds herself standing.

Barbara has no interest in prosthetics, bionics, or exo-skeletal supports.  She never needed them and never wanted them.  But this… This is.. Kind of neat.

But the moment is ruined by Turner.  The weird, bubbling spark of joy that Barbara was feeling is drowned in a rage that sweeps over her.  An anger she can not contain.

“For sitting on your butt all day, you have a nice ass.”

In a fit of rage, Barbara turns around and slaps him, her hand connecting against his face with a sharp crack.  But instead of looking hurt or offended by her slap, Tucker's face is delighted as he looks down at Barbara's feet.  Confused, Barbara follows his line of sight and freezes.

She had turned around.

Her body and legs had turned her around.

Her unsupported, brace-less, paralyzed feet had turned her around.

As she looks at her feet, she sees she is in a offensive position.  The LiveLimbs are locked in their new position holding her weight, and her feet are flat against the ground in a weak, but traditional stance.

Before she can even process what happened or what it means, Turner is grabbing her arms excitedly, bouncing up and down in excitement.  His once dull, emotionless face is now alight with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling with awe.  “You did, Barbara!  You did it!  We did it!”  Still shocked from everything, Barbara is unable to interrupt him as he starts apologizing, “Please forgive us!  We thought a clinical, cold approach would give better results, and they only chose me because of my resting bitch face.  But it worked!  It works!”  

Still staring at her feet in a baffled confusion, Barbara finally raises her hand to calm him, “What?  What worked?”  

If possible, Turner gets even more excited, “Everything!"  Seeing that Barbara still looks confused, he continues as he points to the band on her head, "Let me explain!  So, the LiveLimbs are synced with this sensor band on your head.  The band is actually reads brain functions and low-grade thoughts.”  He then falls to his knees and points to one of the batteries, “And this battery is a normal ion battery that runs it.  So when you think, the braces will respond.  So, think ‘bend my knee’ or something.”  She is a little slow on the request, but Barbara does think it.  However, after some time, its apparent that nothing is happening.

Turner just waves his hand dismissively.  “Don’t worry, we anticipated that it will take people awhile to figure it out. That’s why we went with the surprise attack.  We were thinking that subconscious thoughts would have a better chance to respond to the censors, and we were right! Yay us!”  After a small fist pump, he gets back on track, continuing to babble.  “But what really worked was the second power source.”  He points to the secondary battery, “Mister Luthor said you know about the krypton lightning he was working with?”

Barbara finally looks at Turner.  Remembering Bruce telling her about the LiveFire incident, she nods slowly, “Yeah, something about causing electric memories?”

Turner nods, “Correct!  When our muscles are hit by normal electricity, the muscles spasm and clench up.  But when our muscles are hit with krypton lightning, it causes a muscle memory.  So, our goal was to cause conscious movement in your legs with the LiveLimb, and at the same time, shock your muscles with the krypton lightning, forcing your body to remember the rest of the movement, specifically feet muscles and movement!”

Barbara stares at the excited man and processes.  With a tone of disbelief, she dully states, “And it worked.”

Turner jumps up, “Yes!  And our next theory is that after building up your muscles back to the point that they can carry your own weight, we could even move to a krypton only version!  You wouldn’t need the bracers, just a fine mesh of sensors and electric currents!”

Against Turner’s raw excitement, Barbara feels numb.  She slowly looks back down at her stationary feet.  

Barbara has no interest in prosthetics, bionics, or exo-skeletal supports.  She never needed them and never wanted them.  But this… This is.. The chance that she could walk without those things.

Barbara shallows a sob.  

Slowly, Barbara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  This is impossible.  This is too much.  This is a game changer. 

She's never wanted anything more in her life.

Gathering herself, she looks up to Turner, her voice wobbly but sure, “So, what do we do next?”

Hearing her resolve, Turner's smile turns even brighter, “Our first step is a first step!  Ha!  To start, we will work on control and coordination.  We have a dozen small movement tests that we want you to try, to test compatibility and our calibrations.  Once that’s done, we have you scheduled for lunch with Mister Luthor and Mister Wayne while we review the data.  Once lunch and our new calies are done, you will come back here and we will see about that first step!”    

Hearing about the lunch, Barbara looks at Turner surprised, “They are both here?”

He nods enthusiastically, “Oh yes, both wanted to be here to review the first round of results.”

Knowing Bruce is here, a thought comes to Barbara.  She looks at Turner imploringly as she asks, “Is there anyway we could add an extra movement before lunch?  Please?”

Turner smiles, “If it’s not too crazy, I’m all down for adding a little extra something something!  What did you have in mind?”

“Can I do a cartwheel?”

---

“A cartwheel?  But I already know how to do a cartwheel!”

Barbara remembers her first training session with Batman well.  Bruce had been unperturbed by her attitude, simply stating, “That is to be decided.  However, a cartwheel will tell me much about your skills.”

Barbara had pouted and crossed her arms.  Bruce looked unamused, though a small smile twitched on his lips as he continued,  “A cartwheel is a simple, yet perfect show of aim, coordination, and strength.  Aiming to keep your balance and your body in one direction through multiple pose changes.  The ability to precisely brace both wrists and ankles for impact and vaulting weight.  The core strength needed to balance, keeping your legs up and your body straight.

“All of those are key, valuable abilities to have if you are to join me.”  Batman had then pointed at the mat, “So, let's see it. If you can do a perfect cartwheel, you can do anything you want.”

---

Turns out, Barbara can do a cartwheel.  Barely.  Her balance is off, she sprains her wrist, and she loses her balance at the end.  However, as she smiles up at Bruce from the matted floor, she laughs, “Bruce, I can do a cartwheel.”  His laugh matches hers as he swoops down and scoops her up in his arms, spinning her around, “Yes you can!” As he stops the spin, he shares her grin as he says, "I bet you can do anything you want." 

---

Lunch is served on the VIP terrace overlooking Livefire’s open courtyard.  The moment the waiter is gone, Barbara pounces, asking Lex all the questions that she wasn’t able to ask Turner.  Lex graciously answers all of them without getting into the finer details.

Eventually, Barbara settles into contemplation, “When Bruce explained the krypton lightning to me, I didn’t even consider it for such uses.  Do you really believe that you can accomplish paralyzed walking without braces?” 

Lex hums, “From what we have theorized and tested, there are many uses for the krypton lighting.  But I refuse to be limited by just thoughts.  Until we find it’s limits, we will keep testing it.” 

Barbara frowns at the PR answer, “But we are talking about us, about me, being about to walk, unhindered.”  With that thought, she frowns, her voice painfully hopeful, “Do you think I could..”  She nods pointedly at Bruce, and wiggles her eyebrows.

Lex tilts his head in consideration before answering truthfully, “One of the reasons I wanted you as our first trial was not only your past physical fitness and body control, but cause I knew that you had the strength and willpower to make the impossible work.  I would not have included you if I felt that the end results would not be satisfactory, for both us and you.  However, it's a brand new, advancing piece of technology.  It will not be soon.  There are tests and trials, from compatibility to battery life, and it will take time to perfect.”

Barbara nods in understanding, her face falling in thought.  Lex continues though, “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be continuing working on our prototypes.  And that means active, daily life trials.”

Her hopeful look matches her voice, “I’ll get to take them home?”

Lex smirks, “Not this set, but we have a few that will be done soon that we will be sending to you for testing purposes.”  His tone turns nonchalant but his smirk just grows bigger, “And do be forthright when you tell us all your requests and complaints.  We want to be accommodating for even the most unique users.  I already have the team looking into waterproof and EMP resistance.  I’m sure you can think of others that we will need to address.”

At Barbara's thrilled look, Bruce shakes his head, telling Lex in a mockingly rueful tone, “Now you are giving her too much power.”

As Barbara falls into thought on what requests would be needed for her daily life and future wishes, they all settle into finishing their lunches.  Near the end, Barbara asks, “How did you even come across krypton lightning?”

A dark look crosses Lex’s face before it vanishes, leaving a neutral look and a clinical voice, “After Kadmus, after finding out about Conner, I went to all of my subsidiaries and collected my whole collection of Kryponite to be secured and locked away.  At one of my tech labs, it had to be manually removed from one of the machines.  Someone had forgotten to disconnect a backup generator, so when the Kryptonite was removed, there was a discharge of electricity across the floor.

“Most employees were safe due to the standard rubber-soled shoe requirements in my labs.  However, one employee was in a wheelchair and the lightning struck him.  He was suffering from a pinched nerve in his back that was paralyzing him, one that he couldn’t have surgically fixed due to his degraded health.  However, after the shock of krypton lightning, the pinch nerve had reverted.  After that realization, we began to theorize.”

Lex then gives a small smirk, “Truthfully, if it wasn’t for the Flash and the Speedforce, we would have been off the mark for many years.”

Barbara laughs, “Yeah, he tends to stumble into all the wrong things.  Or right things, considering.”

The door to the balcony opens and Turner peaks his head out, “Hello. I don’t mean to interrupt, but just wanted to let you know that we are ready for the next step.”  He giggles at his pun, then straightens up, “Whenever you are ready Barbara.”  

Barbara throws her napkin on the table, then holds up her wrapped wrist, she asks in a mock timid voice, “Ben, would you please wheel me?”

Turner perks up and walks towards them, “Yes, of course!”  

Before he reaches them, Bruce raises his eyebrow at Barbara and talks in a quiet, knowing voice, “Ben?”

Barbara shrugs and quietly replies, “He’s nice when he’s not being an ass.  And he’s punny.”  With that she waves both the men off as Ben wheels her back inside.

With Barbara gone, Bruce stands up.  He uses a foot to pull the leg of Lex's chair out so Lex is facing him.  Looming over him, Bruce bends down and gives Lex a quick kiss before grinning, “You sir, are a brilliant,” another kiss, “sexy,” kiss, “mastermind.”  Smirking up at him, Lex grabs Bruce’s lapels and gently tugs Bruce into his lap.  With each other so close, they easily fall into each other kissing.  

When they finally surface for air, Bruce rests his forehead against Lex’s.  Bruce whispers softly against Lex’s lips, his words earnest, “You really are going to change the world.”  Lex raises an eyebrow, a curious look crossing his face.  Bruce meets the look with a smile, “I know you didn’t do this,”  he motions absently towards the door, towards Barbara, “for just me.”  

Lex hums, his smile mischievous, “And what if I did do all of this for you?”

Bruce’s smile gets crooked, “Then you have made it exceptionally hard to find a comparable Christmas gift.”

Lex leans back, his voice cocky, “I doubt you could find one.  I hear I'm dreadful to shop for.”

Leaning in for another kiss, Bruce answers coyly, “Guess I'll just have to try my best.”

Notes:

Okay dokie. That's this chapter! It's a little light, but I got what I wanted out of it, and I'm super excited for the next chapter! It's going to be a zinger!

I just wanted to thank everyone for all the comments thus far! They really are the feather in my cap, and a driving force in me finishing this. Y'all are rock stars!

Chapter 20: The Fall

Summary:

Nightmares and Christmas don't mix?

Buying for a billionaire isn’t hard, it’s impossible.  Bruce knows this from personal experience.  Lex has so many facets to him that it should be easy to find something.  However, even knowing all of Lex’s habits and hobbies, there is still a lack of value and uniqueness when it comes to gifts.  

What do you buy Luthor the Business Man whose job is to buy every company he wants or needs?  What do you buy Lex the Engineer when he has dozens of faculties and endless budgets?   What do you buy Luthor the Doctor when he can easily donate millions to charities or buy his very own hospital?  What do you buy Luthor the Villain that seems to want for nothing?

So Bruce plans to buy Lex nothing for there are things that can’t be bought.  Things that he knows Lex wants more than his billions of dollars, his fame, or his power.  Things that matter the most to Lex.

So with his plans in motion, Bruce waits for Christmas to come.

---

Everyone can’t wait for Christmas.  The moment it hits December, Metropolis is alight with Christmas lights, carols, and good cheer.  Like a small snow fall, the days slowly fall by as the people enjoy the quiet but festive month.  However, the Sunday before Christmas all the Christmas cheer shatters as the first shockwave rocks Metropolis.  And as the first building sinks into the earth, terror fills the air.

---

When the BatJets land in Metropolis, the loading doors aren't even completely open before Batman starts giving orders. “Superman and Superboy, aerial.  Find the source of the seismic tremors.  Wonder Woman, Flash, Aquaman, Lantern.  I need you pulling survivors out of the sinkholes.  Everyone else, coordinate with the city workers and assist in evacuating the city.  Reports claim that the business sector has already been evacuated.  Focus on residential.”

As the team breaks up, Batman notices that Red Hood is lagging behind to talk to him.  Pulling him aside, Batman motions for him to talk.  Red Hood leans in, keeping his voice low.  “Lex’s Tower is in the business sector.  You know he’s shit at evacuating, right?”  

Batman frowns.  With displeasure and doubt lingering on his voice, Batman says words that he despises, “We will trust that they properly evacuated the business sector.”

Batman can tell that Red Hood isn’t pleased with his response either, but Hood bites his tongue.  Then, with a painfully hopeful voice, Red Hood requests, “Send Black Bat.  She’ll be quick about it, and you know that she’s too quiet and inconspicuous to be that helpful with evacs.”  

Batman grinds his teeth. He knows that he is caving into his emotions when with a small nod, he concedes, “Tell her to be quick.”  

Over the bat clan com line, Oracle’s voice confirms, “She is already on her way.”  This causes Batman’s frown to deepen.

Hood’s smile is blinding as he claps Batman on the shoulder, “You know it's okay to care, even when you’re you , right?”

Batman knocks Hood’s hand away, his voice deadpan, “Emotions make mistakes.”  

Hood’s smile grows even wider as he backs away, and as he turns, his steps become a run.  Batman hears Hood’s voice on his ear com as Hood sings to the rest of the bat clan, “Everyone, Batman has ~feelings!~”  

Oracle’s voice is cutting over the com, but laced with humor, “Hood, focus.  Head to City Hall.  They need a loud mouth there to corral some overly committed workers.”

And with that, the bat clan gets to work evacuating the city of Metropolis.  

Batman reviews the intel: Metropolis is riddled with sinkholes, sizes ranging from the size of a house to the size of a city block.  And as the morning rages on, seismic tremors keep happening; small earthquakes that seem to trigger more sinkholes to appear throughout the whole city. 

Around noon, there is a click on the bat clan com, and Nightwing’s voice comes through void of emotion, “Batman.” 

Before he can continue, Mercy’s voice comes through Nightwing’s line, sounding like she is yelling at Nightwing.  Her voice is biting and sharp, but it has an edge of hysteria as she barks, “You listen here Nightingale.  You tell that bat buffoon to get his ass over there now, or so help me, I will be adding your name to the casualty list!”

Nightwing talks over Mercy’s exclamation, his words are quiet in shock with an echo of disbelief.  “Batman.  The LexCorp Tower fell.”

The LexCorp Tower fell.

With Nightwing’s shock and Mercy’s biting concern, it can only mean one thing.

Lex Luthor was in the building

His daughter was in that building.

Batman is a man of facts, but underneath all that armor and skill is a man more brittle than the tundra.  And these facts crash in his head, bringing terror like an ice wind, freezing his lungs stiff.  

With wide eyes, a stopped heart, and stiff fingers, Bruce activates his com, “Black Bat report.”  The silence that follows is as deafening as the black void in Bruce’s chest.  Unable to breath, Batman waits.  He prays.  As the minutes drag on, Bruce can feel a part of him die.  However, just before he tries again, the line crackles on.

“This is Lex Luthor.”  

Hearing Lex’s voice is like a sledgehammer to his chest.  However, instead of breaking the frozen breath from his lungs, it seems to shatter it in terror. 

Lex has Black Bat’s ear communicator.  

As Batman’s brain quick-fires through the thousand scenarios where Cassandra wouldn’t have her com, one worse than the other, it takes him a second to listen as Lex continues to talk over the com, “-she is in a state of nonverbal, most likely due to duress.”  And with a breath, all the tension, all the terror in Bruce’s chest loosens and starts to thaw away.  Of course. Logical. It would be expected for a child raised mute to fall to old habits in moments of duress.  

With a staggering moment of clarity, Bruce is able to listen to the rest of Lex’s report.  “Quick examination concludes her only major injury is a broken left arm from blunt force trauma.  We are currently trapped in rubble, but the surrounding seems secure. We have two evac packs with adequate supplies.”  Then Lex says the words that snap Bruce back into being Batman, and it’s one of the most painful experiences of Bruce’s life. 

“At this current time, we are not a high priority.”

They are not a priority.   

Bruce has never felt so torn between being Bruce the Parent and being Batman.  The need to verify what Lex’s words are telling him.  What his brain is telling him.  The need to see his child, hear his child, to know that she is safe.  It rages against Batman’s resolve that he can not stop an entire city evacuation for one girl.   

“I repeat, we are not a high priority.”

Lex’s voice is hard and ruthless, cutting through the air like a whip.  Lex knows.  Lex understands the struggle Bruce is dealing with.  There are higher priorities than a broken arm and stress.  The Batman has higher priorities. So Bruce takes a breath; a slow, soul-crushing breath, and makes the choice.  Batman chooses to leave his daughter in the hands of someone that understands, someone that he trusts.

Batman’s voice is equally hard and ruthless, “Confirmed.” 

The response is calmer, almost reassuring, “I will keep you up to date if that status changes.”  With that, the line goes dead.

Batman instantly orders on the com, “Oracle, override Black Bat’s comm. I want to hear everything.”  The rest of the bat clan chorus that they want to hear.  

There is a click and then Lex’s voice is heard over the bat clan com line, “Cassandra, I don’t need you to talk, but I need you to unclench your jaw.”  There is a pause, and then Lex asks, “Does it hurt more than you’d expect?”  The smallest sound is heard, then Lex continues, “We will have to keep an eye on it.  You must tell me if you feel any numbness, okay?”

After a few sounds of shuffling, the line goes quiet. 

With the brittle will of a man torn, Batman gets back to work.

---

It's with such doggard will to compartmentalize his emotional turmoil that it takes Batman a few minutes to notice that Lex had started talking again.  And while he hears Lex’s voice in his ear, it's from fear sheer focus on his current task that it takes almost ten minutes for Batman to actually pay attention to his words.

“-and you haven’t seen it?  In a house full of bat-themed vigilantes?  I feel mildly disappointed.”  There is a pause, then Lex continues, “Very well, while I doubt I will do it justice.  Let me regal you with the tale.  The story is about Jack Skellington, who is, in fact, a skeleton.  Of course, like all tales, we must have it’s proper introduction.”  With that, his voice changes, his words carrying more weight as he starts the tale, “It was a long time ago, longer now than it seems.  In a place that perhaps you've seen in your dreams...”  

Nightwing’s scandalized voice comes over the group com, quiet in awe as he whispers, “Does Lex Luthor have the Nightmare Before Christmas memorized?”  No one answered, too enthralled by the situation. However, it's the singing that stops the bat clan cold.

Nightwing’s voice is a sharp squee, “Oh my god.  He’s singing.  Lex Luthor’s singing This Is Halloween.  My brain’s broken.”  

Batgirl’s voice is thoughtful as she comes over the com, “I did tell him that Black gets easily distracted by music.  I think he’s doing it intentionally for her.”  

As Lex finishes singing the first song, there is a soft patting sound over the com as Cass tries to clap.  Lex’s voice is kind yet a little smug, “Thank you.”  Though his voice sounds put-upon as he states, ““Though once again, it seems that your family is under the opinion that I am uncultured. I’m starting to think you all think less of me.”

Nightwing sputters over the com, “Oracle! He can hear us?!”

Oracle tuts, “Seems only fair if we are eavesdropping on them.”

Before Nightwing can refute, Lex’s starts talking to Cass, “It seems your whole family is eavesdropping.”  There is a pause, then he says, “Black Bat says hello to all listening.”  After greetings are exchanged, Lex continues with his storytelling.

And thus, while evacuating the city of Metropolis, the bat clan is regaled with Lex’s rendition of the Nightmare Before Christmas.  

---

The Justice League is sitting on the edge of a sinkhole taking a quick calorie break when Robin swings by on a grappling hook.  Green Lantern frowns as the kid whizzes by.   Slowly turning to the Flash, the Lantern asks in disbelief, “Was Robin humming Kidnap the Sandy Claws?”  

Having missed him, the Flash looks up in surprise.  Then in a flash, he’s gone: a trail of lightning in his wake as he chases Robin.  A few seconds and another crack of lightning later, the Flash is back in his spot, “Yes he was.”

Lantern’s frown deepens, “Don’t you think that’s a little..?”  He motions his hand helplessly at his loss of words.

Aquaman frowns as he looks to the sinkhole in front of them, “This is a nightmare...  And it is right before Christmas.”  He shrugs, but his voice is mildly approving, “I like it.”

Wonder Woman gets up and dusts herself off as she smiles sincerely, “As do I.  For such a serious child, it is something rare to see.”

The Lantern looks at both of them then shrugs as well.  However, ten minutes later when he is moving an entire building out of a hole, the Green Lantern curses.  

He has the song stuck in his head.

---

It is right after Lex’ finishes singing Oogie Boogie’s Song that Cassandra finally speaks up.  However, her words cause everyone to frown.  Her voice is weak and fragile as she softly says two words, “Hand numb.”

Batman waits with bated breath as the sounds of rustling is heard, then Cassandra gasping in pain.  Then Lex’s grim voice comes over the line, “Batman.  Our priority has changed.”  The dread that Batman had felt before is back tenfold.  In his fear, he barely hears Lex ask, “How quickly can you get us out of here?”  

Batman has to stop.  He has to stop and think.  Batman refuses to let emotions get the better of him.  He tries.  In quickfire thoughts, Batman reviews the priorities of the sinking city of Metropolis versus two people.  And with dread Batman feels like he is giving his daughter a death sentence, his words hollow and bitter, “One hour.”  

Lex just tuts before answering, “Unfortunate.”  There is a pause.  “Very well, we will keep for one hour.”  

Then the sound of rustling is heard over com, the audio gets quieter like it's been moved away.  The distant, harsh sound of fabric ripping causes Batman to frown, his voice full of concern, “Lex, what’s wrong?”  

Unable to hear him, Lex’s voice is soft and far away as he says, “Cassandra, we will need to relieve the pressure.  Do you have a sharp utensil on you, blade or the like?”

The scrap of a batarang being pulled from a sheath causes all rational thought to leave Bruce’s head.  As he raises his voice to be heard, the concern in Batman’s voice turns brittle, laced with anxiety, “Lex, what are you doing?”

The sound of a belt leaving loops sounds like a whip, startling Batman.

Lex’s voice is gentle, “Cassandra, I need you to bite down on this.”

Almost paralyzed by emotions, Batman can’t stop himself from falling back on old habits, barking out a furious and clipped, “Luthor!”

The sure, gentle voice continues, though it is heavy by sadness, “I’m sorry dear, but this will hurt.  Let me know when you are ready.”

The first name is ripped from Batman’s lips, a deafening shout that carries with it all the concern and rage and fear that is trying to drown Bruce.

“ Alexander !”

There is no reply on from the other side of the com line, but there is a small shuffle that sounds like it is getting closer.  Then there is silence.  A brokenly soft sigh echoes over the line.  When Lex does talk, he speaks so gently, like a man trying to talk someone off a cliff. 

“Bruce.  I need you to shut this com off.“  

Batman’s tone is vicious, his words are forceful yet clipped, “You do not get to keep this from me!”

Lex sighs again, sounding tired.  His voice then turns clinical and clipped and Batman can hear Luthor the Doctor coming out.  

“Cassandra is suffering from Compartment Syndrome due to her broken arm.  I will be performing a fasciotomy to relieve the pressure.”

His tone is almost bored in comparison to the kindness and concern he had spoken with before.  The change causes Bruce to shutter.  It causes him to shatter .  Luthor has compartmentalized his emotions to do what must be done.  Like Bruce should be doing right now.  Like Bruce can’t do right now.

Luthor continues in the silence, “Even in such unideal conditions, this is not a life threatening procedure.  But I do need to concentrate, so I will be putting the com down again.”

Batman tries his hardest, but his words come out hard and sharp as he bites them out, “Keep.  It.  On.”

The same soft sigh comes across the line again, and Lex’s gentle, knowing voice returns.  It is full of kindness, pity, and heartbreak as he softly begs, “Bruce.  I’m about to cut your daughter’s arm open without any anesthesia or numbing agents.  I need you to shut this com off.” 

Batman has never heard Lex Luthor beg for anything.  And yet, in this biggest moment of weakness, Batman finds himself trembling.  Lex is asking the impossible.  Lex is asking for him to trust him.  Completely.  Wholly.  Blindly.

And as Batman feels a tear get caught on the corner of his mask, he says one word.

“Oracle.”

And the line goes dead.

---

Bruce feels like he’s drowning in an abyss.  The empty abyss of time.  He doesn’t know how much time passes as he stands frozen, waiting, praying.  Minutes?  Hours?  Nothing matters in these precious, all-consuming seconds.

And then there is a click.  Batman freezes as he listens closely.  He barely hears a breath.  It is soft and quiet, a fragile puff that breaks the silence.  Bruce can’t stop himself as he barks, “Report.”

Batman listens intently, obsessively for any note, any influx of emotion in Lex’s voice that would betray him.  But Lex’s voice is calm, though a tiredness hangs to it that makes Batman ache, “Procedure complete, pressure relieved.  She has regained consciousness, though back to non-verbal.”

Batman is afraid to breathe, to let out that stiffness that’s been caged in his chest.  A stiffness that stopped him from moving, from breathing, from thinking.  When he finally lets out his breath, it comes out harsh and stuttering.  

Lex continues softly, “We are fine to wait for the rest of the hour.”

Batman takes another breath.  And another.  He tries to clear his head, his chest, his heart.  Tries to get back on track, back to work.  But before he can do that, he softly speaks into his comm.  “Oracle.”

Black Bat’s line snaps back to life, and Batman takes another breath as he catches the tail end of “-where were we?  Ah, yes.  It is the night of Christmas Eve.  And Sally, our dear old girl, knew she had to stop Jack...”

And so the tale of the Nightmare Before Christmas continued.

---

Hal Jordan might be a brass, arrogant, cocky asshole, but he never let’s grudges or concerns get in the way of saving lives.  So, when the time comes, he is the one Batman summons.  Once the situation is explained, it only takes the Green Lantern a few minutes to scan the wreckage, find their location, and then he uses a bright green construct to encase them and pull them out.  Batman and Mercy watch as the Lantern gently puts the gigantic green coffin down next to the Batjet.  Batman raises an eyebrow at the Lantern, tilting his head to the coffin.  

The Green Lantern scoffs, “What?  Your batkick got Kidnap the Sandy Claws stuck in my head.”  Batman tries not to smile, instead sends the Lantern back to the rest of the League.  With a wave and a jump, Hal is gone.

Batman turns his attention back to the construct and watches as it dissipates to reveal Lex holding Cassandra bridal style.  They both look roughened up, dirty and covered with sweat and blood.  The Black Bat suit is torn and missing some of its pieces, including the entire sleeve and gauntlet on her bandaged arm. The bandages on her arm are clearly Lex’s shirt, since he’s shirtless.  They look tired and worn out.  They look like survivors.  The sight is the most beautiful, most bitterly sweet thing Bruce has ever seen.

Batman’s movements are stiff as he motions them inside the Batjet.  Once inside, Lex sets Cassandra down on a med bed.  The moment the Jet’s hatch closes shut, securing them inside away from the world, Batman rips his mask off.  Bruce rips Batman off and pulls Cassandra in his arms.  Bruce holds on for dear life.  He can feel the tears track down his nose into her hair, yet he doesn’t care.  Cassandra hugs back one armed, her own tears sliding down her face.    There are no words as they silently cry in each other's arms.  

After a few minutes, Bruce tries to pull himself together.  As he does, he notices that Mercy is hugging Lex just as tightly.  However, she ends the hug by stepping away and punching Lex’s arm in frustrated concern.  Lex just smiles kindly and pulls her back in for another hug that she clings to.

The silence is finally broken by Cassandra herself.  Her voice is still a sad, pitiful sound, but she still asks softly, “Drugs? Please?” 

Bruce instantly goes to the med draws, stiffly but hurried pulling things out.  When he ends up tangling the IV tubes, Lex comes up behind him and slaps his hands away.  He gives Bruce a stern but knowing look as he starts to wash his hands and arms in the med sink, “She survived this long.  She can wait the two minutes to do it right, not rushed.”  Bruce has to close his eyes to center himself.  With a sigh and a nod, Bruce steps away, letting Lex take over.  With sure motions, Lex pulls out the IV bags and tubes, and turns to Cassandra as he hooks them on an IV pole, “Cassandra.  I’m going to have to clean your wound of debris before I set your arm.  I’m going to put you under for that.”

Cassandra’s eyes widen a little and she nods quickly.

With Bruce’s help removing the sleeve on her unharmed arm, Lex starts sanitizing it for the IV.  He talks as he works, “You will receive an IV of antibodies, morphine, and a blood transfusion if available. I will set your bone, stitch you up and get you in half cast until the swelling goes down.”  With that, he finds a vein and inserts the needle.  He then smiles at Cassandra kindly, “By the time you wake up, the only thing you will need to worry about is what junk food to eat when we watch the Nightmare Before Christmas.”

That brings a smile to Cassandra.  Soon, her eyes start to droop as the drugs in the IV take effect.  Making sure her head was in a comfortable position, Lex smirks, “Down you go.”  And with that, Cassandra is asleep.

Before he can do anything else, Bruce comes up behind him and wraps both arms around Lex’s waist, pulling his back flush against Bruce’s chest.  Bruce lowers his head and hides it in the crock of Lex’s neck.  And there, he just breathes.  He breathes in the scent of dust, sweat, and blood. He breathes in Lex’s scent.  And with a wet, broken gasp, he whispers into Lex’s skin his desperation, relief and gratitude, “Thank you.”

Like a dam being broken, the same words come again and again. A mantra of gratitude breathed against dirty skin, his tears falling as if to wash the words and the dust away.  Slowly, almost as if he is afraid to startle Bruce, Lex turns in his arms to face him.  Lex gently threads both of his hands in Bruce’s hair, holding Bruce's head in comfort.  

Lex’s words are just as soft but spoken in a slow cadence, their own mantra of comfort, “We are fine.  We survived.  She’s fine.  We are fine.”

Eventually, Bruce loosens his death grip that he realizes he has on Lex, though he doesn’t raise his head.  He asks softly, “Are you though?”

Lex hums against Bruce’s temple, “Hmm?”

Bruce finally pulls away to look Lex in his face with curious concern, “Are you fine?”

Lex smiles as he runs his fingers through Bruce’s hair, “Yes.  We are fine.”

Bruce closes the distance to kiss Lex.  And in that moment, surprisingly, the world falls away.  All the fears, the concerns, the pent up emotions fall away and he just focuses on the magnificent, wonderful man in his arms.  But when they surface for air, it all comes crashing back down around him.  The sigh that escapes Bruce’s lips is earth shattering; a long suffering, miserable sigh of a man that has to go back to the trenches.  

Lex gives him a sad, understanding smile, “I know.”  He tilts his head to the door, his words soft and encouraging, “Go.”  Bruce looks at the door then looks to Cassandra sleeping on the bed.  Seeing Bruce’s frown, Lex cups Bruce’s face and slowly turns it to face him.  Lex’s words are a promise, “I will take care of her.”  

Bruce closes his eyes and presses his forehead to Lex’s.  Then with a breath, he shores up his resolve and steps away.  He puts the mask back on and says to Lex, “The jet is on autopilot to take you to the Batcave.”  

Lex nods, his words another promise, “Then I will see you there.”

---

It’s twelve hours after they left that the bat clan com comes to life.  Cass’s voice is strained with an edge of loopy, but as her voice fills the com line, it sounds like a breath of fresh air.  In her drug-induced state, Cassandra babbles about her splint cast’s color, and the movie marathon she roped Lex into, and what weird milkshake concoctions she is forcing Alfred to make.  And every word loosens the manic concern that the bat clan had been carrying.  One by one, they all breathe a sigh of relief.

---

When the last shockwave settles, an eighth of Metropolis has sunk into the ground.  But there was no one to blame.  All this destruction at the fault of a natural disaster.  A perfect storm, a series of unfortunate events that caused multiple shockwaves.  A fracking accident, an ignited oil spill, a ruptured gas line, a misfiring power station; each event causing the next, and each event causing a shockwave that continued to shift the limestone under the entire city.  One by one, each wave causing more sinkholes to form as the land settled.

So, with no bad guy to fight, no villain to stop, all they can do is help recover.  

Unlike alien invasions that only the Justice League can fight, natural disasters and evacuations are group efforts.  There are people trained for this and while the first hours are crucial, the main work for the Justice League is coordinating relief responses and transporting of volunteer groups to Metropolis.  

As such, the bat clan slowly trickle home.  Dick is the first sent home.  Richie Wayne will be needed to be the figurehead of Wayne Enterprises relief efforts.  Tim joins him to assist LexCorp in their own efforts.  Bruce sends Steph next as she is still brimming with the maniac energy that can only be resolved by seeing her sister.  Damien refuses to leave without Bruce, however he hits such a state of exhaustion that Jason easily throws him over his shoulder and takes him home.  

As always, Bruce is the last home.  It is at the forty two hour mark that Bruce drags himself into the Bat Cave almost delirious with exhaustion.  He barely remembers stripping out of the armor and showering.  It's only when he comes out of the Cave does he snap back to attention as a giant spider on the grandfather clock startles him.  

The fake, plastic spider isn’t the only new thing he notices since the last time he was home.  As he looks around the parlor, he can’t stop the smile that slowly grows across his face.  While all the Christmas decorations are still up, there now seems to be an abundance of fake spider webs and bat decor.  

Shaking his head at the Nightmare decorations, he starts his search for Cassandra. 

He finds her in the family room, sitting on the couch wedged between Lex and Dick.  Cassandra is cuddled up next to Lex, her head on his shoulder as she and Dick watch Nightmare Before Christmas.  Lex himself is asleep with his head resting against Cassandra’s, his laptop sitting on his lap crooked.  

Seeing Bruce in the doorway, Cassandra smiles and slowly extracts herself from the couch to come hug him.  Bruce tries not to cling again, but it's a hard struggle.  Eventually, he pulls away and smiles at her, asking softly, “How are you?”

She beams as she raises her arm to show off her black and orange cast, her words exuberant, but quiet, “All good!”  Bruce squints his eyes at her and hums.  She pouts, “I am!”

Taking her word, he then nods to Lex, “And what about him?”

Dick is the one to answer as he talks around a yawn, “He’s been sitting with her the entire time, coordinating relief efforts with me.”  As he looks at Lex, Dick frowns, “Actually, I think this is the first time he’s slept.”  

Cassandra gasps but then grins as she looks at Bruce, with the same upbeat energy, “He fits right in!”  

Looking at her, Bruce can’t stop himself from asking again, “Are you sure you are okay?”

She nods, and the energy seems to come down as she speaks sincerely, “Yeah.”  She looks back to Lex, her words soft, “He took care of me.”  

Dick gets up and puts his laptop away as he talks to Bruce, “And now you get to take care of him.  I’m off to bed.”

Cassandra agrees, gives Bruce another hug before retiring herself.

Bruce looks down at Lex and feels.  With a soft breath, he bends down in front of Lex.  He closes Lex’s laptop and moves it to the side.  Then he gently grabs Lex’s knee, giving it a gentle shake as he calls his name.

Lex slowly opens his eyes.  As he spots Bruce, he smiles. Bruce smiles back and speaks softly, “Come to bed Lex.”  Together, they slowly make their way upstairs.  Once the Master bedroom’s door shuts behind them, Bruce pulls Lex to him and kisses him.  Lex indulges him for a few kisses, but stops him by pushing him away gently.  Lex’s voice is full of humor as he says,  “Bruce.  I’m sure the life-affirming sex will be fantastic, but if you fall asleep on me, I don’t think my ego could take it.” 

Bruce chuckles as he pulls Lex in for one more kiss, “Fair.”

So, with the bare minimum effort of stripping down to their underwear, the two fall into bed where sleep claims them quickly.

---

It is far too early when Bruce wakes to the sound of a phone going off.  He would like to ignore it, but he can feel the man in his arms move.  Bruce opens an eye in time to see Lex grab his phone off the nightstand.  The moment the phone is in Lex’s hand, Bruce pulls Lex back against him until Lex’s back is flush against his chest.  Then, being the noisy detective he is, he peaks over Lex’s shoulder to look at Lex’s phone.  

Richard

Get up. We got to be at the relief center at noon.  I am not coming in there to get you.

Too tired and sleep deprived to care, Bruce snuggles up against Lex’s shoulder and mumbles into his neck, “Stay.”

Completely un-phased by Bruce, Lex starts texting Dick back.  His words are mockingly bored as he answers, “Unfortunately, my city seems to be in the middle of a crisis.”

Bruce grunts and tries again, “No. Stay here.”

Lex chuckles, his voice warm with humor, “While seeing you in a state of sleep delirium is quite amusing, you either have just repeated yourself, or you are not saying what you want to say.”

A heavy sigh is Bruce’s response.  After taking a few seconds to wake himself up further, Bruce gathers his thoughts.  With his mind much clearer, Bruce tries again, “You are right.  Your city is facing a crisis.  But so are you.  Your tower is gone, your penthouse demolished.  When you are done in Metro, come back.  Stay here.”

Hearing the offer, Lex rolls around to face Bruce.  He searches Bruce’s face for his sincerity, finding it easily.  As Lex considers it, he frowns, “While tempting, I will need to be in Metropolis for many of the days to come.  That amount of travel time would be insufficient.”

Bruce is already talking before he realizes it, “I could-”  He clamps his mouth shut before he can continue.

However, Lex notices, and a smirk crosses his face, “And what was that guilty look for?”

As he thinks over what he was going to offer, Bruce strengthens his resolve, “I could give you access to the Zeta tubes.”

This causes a wicked grin to appear on Lex’s face, his words dangerously sexy, “What a blatant abuse of power.”

Bruce  smirks, “On the contrary. Access can be given to non members in case of emergencies.  I would call half of Metropolis in rubble an emergency.”  

Lex just raises an eyebrow.

Determined, Bruce continues, “Additionally, as Cassandra’s doc-”  To shut him up, Lex leans forward and kisses Bruce.  

Smirking, Lex speaks against Bruce’s lips, “You really don’t need to sell this to me.”

Bruce grins, though his words have a hint of hope, “So, you’ll stay?”

Lex looks thoughtful, but the glint of pleasure in his eye betrayals him.  “Yeah, I think I will.”

Notes:

Hey Slade, where you listening to NBC for the last two weeks? ... Maybe...

Hey Slade, where you watching NBC as you were writing this chapter? ... Maybe...

Eeeee! This chapter has been flushed out for a long time, and I'm so excited that it's finally done! OMG, I love. These. Boys! And the Christmas episode is next! :D Eeee! So excited!

You know what else I love? Comments~ They make me so happy! Seriously, y'all are bestest!

Chapter 21: The Christmas Episode

Summary:

Surprised guests and prep work do mix!

Notes:

Hey everybody! Its the Christmas Episode! You know what that means, time to get your Christmas on!

And if some of you are saying, "But Slade, it's nowhere near Christmas..." Allow me say this:
This last year has been hard on us. We have dealt with one of the hardest years our generations will ever have to overcome. And yet we all have survived this far! We have done our best to do what is needed. And yes, sometimes it doesn't feel enough. And sometimes its a real struggle just to get by. And because of that, I think that maybe, we just might need some peace on earth and good will towards man right about now.

So I say, fuck it! Treat yourself! Have yourself a Merry little Christmas right now! Put on that Michael Buble Christmas CD. Pull up the crackling fireplace on Youtube and put it in the background. Make yourself a hot drink and add some ginger or mint! Burn a candle or bowl a pot of water and cinnamon! Cuddle up on your couch or your bed, wrap a blanket around your feet and have your self a Merry little Christmas right now!

I just want to send you all my love and my well wishes. So, from me to all of you, I wish you a Merry Christmas with the Waynes!

---

As one of the first to rise, when Lex steps out of the master bedroom he takes a moment to inspect the halls.  The soft dawn shines through the windows, the sun’s rays mostly obscured by the soft snow that is falling.  The halls of the Manor are softly lit with the glowing Christmas lights and decorations that line the walls.  The soft music of Michael Bublé plays throughout the Manor from all the speakers.  And in this moment, there is a peace that is undisturbed by the rest of the Waynes.

Lex has very few good Christmas experiences so he’s unsure if his heart aches at the nostalgia of those few Christmases he remembers with his mother, or at the almost Hallmark, commercial feel; that near perfect Christmas atmosphere that the Manor holds. 

Dismissing the thought, Lex heads to the kitchen.  As he nears the kitchen, he noticed that one of the side tables that lines the hall has been set up as a coffee table, accompanied by danishes. 

Expecting a reason that Alfred would setup the table, Lex takes a second to make himself a cup of coffee before continuing to the kitchen in search of Alfred.  As he peers into kitchen, Lex finds both Alfred and Jason bent over recipes, comparing a list of ingredients for the Christmas meal.  Lex walks in to join them.  Upon hearing Lex’s footsteps, Jason looks up and frowns at him, “Oh Lex, you poor fool.  Did no one tell you?”  

Lex takes a sip of coffee then tilts his head curiously, “Tell me what?”

Jason stands up and motions to the door dramatically, his words turning theatrical, “Any fool who doth pass the threshold of the kitchen on the day of holiday cooking has thus accepted their fate as…”  He pauses dramatically, then motions to Lex in a flourish, “kitchen grunt.”

 Lex smirks at the dramatic display, “And what, pray tell, does kitchen grunt pertain?” 

Jason continues in the same theatrical fashion, “The kitchen grunts must heed the call and request of the chefs, no matter the demand!”  With that, Jason’s voice goes back to normal as he gives Lex a lopsided grin, “Pretty much sous chef prep and the like.”  

Lex shrugs, “I’ve been put in worse situations.”

Jason smirks, “We usually set up the dining table as the chopping zone.  Thus, that is where your punishment will be dealt.  But fear not, once more fools fall to the temptation of back-seat cooking, they too shall be joining you.” 

Before he can continue, a knock echoes down the hall coming from the front door.  Without even looking up from his cookbook, Alfred asks, “Master Alexander, would you be so kind as to get that.” 

Lex nods and heads to the door.  As he opens the door and sees who is there, Lex stops.  Lex had no inclination on who would be knocking, but the two people that greet him cause Lex to freeze.  Stood frozen, Lex can only frown in bewilderment at Martha and Conner Kent.

Lex blinks, trying to process.  It failed his attention that the Kents were coming to the Wayne Christmas.  He is sure that Bruce would have said something.  Yet, the very fact that they are standing in the Wayne Manor doorway has rendered him immobile, his eyes locked on Conner’s.  And Conner’s eyes are locked on him, a sheepishly awkward look crossing Conner’s face. 

Whether Martha has mis-interpreted Lex’s intense gaze or she is intentionally breaking the moment, Martha starts rambling lightheartedly, “Don’t worry dear, it’s just the two of us.  Clark’s in Metro visiting the hospitals and shelters.  Since we aren’t ‘spectin’ him and Lois ‘til four, Conner thought we’d come spend the morning with his friends.”  Even with Martha talking to him, Lex cannot seem to move until Martha asks kindly, “Are ya goin’ to let us in, dear?”

The words break Lex of the moment, causing him to turn and look at Martha.  Her face is kind, her warm smile just as full as her arms.  Seeing her arms full of presents and Tupperware finally gets Lex to step aside, motioning her to the sitting bench next to the door.  She walks in with Conner closely behind her.  Martha stomps the snow off her boots before she sets her armful down.  She takes off her coat and gloves and hands them to Conner, who quickly moves to put them in the walk-in coat closet.  With her arms and hands free, Martha turns to Lex with her arms in an open gesture, “Now come here Lex.” 

Still stiff from these unexpected guests, the unexpected moment, Lex freezes at the request for a hug.  Martha just tuts with an overly fond smile, “Now now dear, it’s Christmas.  Everyone deserves a hug on Christmas.”  At the assault of the warmth and forgiving love of this simple, down-to-earth woman, Lex caves and wraps his arms around her.  He wishes softly, “Merry Christmas Martha.” 

She chuckles against his shoulder, “Merry Christmas Lex.”  With that, she steps away, but she grabs both of Lex’s forearms to keep him near.  “Now, let’s get a look at you, Lex.  I haven’t seen you in damn near a lifetime.”  She looks up at him, inspecting him with a kind eye.  Gently grabbing his chin, she turns it side to side, before letting go with a grin, “You look just as I last saw you.”  

Lex smiles down upon her and says with joking mirth, “I would say the same to you, but…”  He gently moves a stray piece of hair away from Martha’s face, and with a voice of mock grief, “But look at all the grey Clark has given you.”

At that, Martha laughs and swats his hand away good-naturedly, “You rascal!  If you think for one second some of these greys aren’t your doing, you are a fool boy!” 

Their laughs are interrupted by a throat clearing.  They turn to find Alfred standing behind them, his head tilted slightly as he states, “I had come to see if my assistance was needed.”

Lex shakes his head fondly and motions Martha forward to make the introductions, “Martha, this is Alfred Pennyworth, the guardian and butler of the Waynes.  Alfred, this is Martha Kent.” 

Alfred bows, “Welcome to the Wayne Manor, Misses Kent.”  Not missing a beat, he presents Martha his arm and motions down the hall, “May I interest you in a tour?” 

Accepting the offered arm, Martha grins, “Probably best, I’m sure I’ll be lost in no time.”

And with that, they leave Lex alone.  Alone with Conner. 

Lex watches the two of them walk away and frowns.  With how Alfred seemed completely unphased by the Kents’ presence to how quickly Martha accepted the offer, Lex can tell he’s been setup. This was all planned. 

This is unexpected.  This is not how he thought this would go. He thought he’d be more…  Lex shakes his head gently.  It does not matter.  He has always been able to adapt to any situation.  Thus, with a sure breath to settle himself, Lex turns and faces Conner.

Conner is still standing by the coat closet.  Seeing that he has Lex’s attention, he straightens up.  He raises his hand as if to wave, but he aborts the motions.  His voice comes out unsure, “Hi..”

Lex smiles kindly, “Hello Conner.”

This seems to give Conner strength, for he stands up a little straighter, and without thought says, with force, “I’m your son.”  However, the moment the words leave his mouth, he cringes at the obvious statement.

Lex is unperturbed by the statement, just reaffirms it gently, “You are my son.”

A look of devastating hope crosses Conner’s face before he turns his head away.  Seeing that Conner is gathering his thoughts, Lex stands patiently, keeping his own emotions in check.  Finally, Conner speaks though its mostly into his shoulder, but the words make Lex’s stomach drop.

“I didn’t want to meet you.”

Lex feels his body stiffen, his breath catching in his chest.  Lex closes his eyes and forces the breath out of his lungs.  That’s disappointing   devastating expected.  He tries not to jerk react, not to make a move, but he must have made a sound because Conner looks up at him.  Lex tries to keep his pain emotions off his face, but he must have failed cause Conner’s eyes widen in a look of fear.  

Conner steps towards Lex, his hands in an aborting motion as he blurts out, “In the beginning!  In the beginning, I didn’t want to meet you.”

Lex breaths, and while that seems to relieve some of the tension, his words still come out a little more brittle, frailer than he would want.  “May I ask why?”

Conner turns shy, but this time he doesn’t look away as he confesses softly, “I was afraid.  Afraid you would treat me like Clark did.. in the beginning.”  Seeing he has Lex’s raptured attention, he continues with his words no more than a whisper.  The words of a broken, lost child, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me.”

Out of all the things that Conner could have said, those words shatter all of Lex’s resolve. In quick, sure steps, he walks up to Conner and seeing no resistance, Lex gently pulls Conner into his arms.  As he hugs Conner to his chest, he whispers just as quietly into his ear, “Never doubt, the moment I learned you existed, I have wanted you.”

And with a broken sob, Conner hugs back.  He clings like he’s afraid Lex will disappear.  And though the grip is a little too tight, a little too inhuman, Lex just tightens his grip in return.  He will willingly bare any bruise his son gives him as long as he gets to keep him. 

When Conner finally pulls away, Lex wipes the tears from Conner’s face.  As Conner looks at him, Lex tells him softly, “When I was young, I was told I was sterile.  So when I found out about you, there were no words to describe the joy I felt.  But once I learned that they had created me sons just to kill them, I was angry, and mourning.  But I was also so afraid.” He wipes another stray tear from Conner’s face as he says earnestly, “I was afraid you would resent me for bringing you into such a devastating life.”

Conner shakes his head in reply before stepping away, wiping his face of tear tracks.  Seeing Conner gather himself, Lex also takes the time to gather his own emotions.  Conner eventually turns back to Lex and asks hopelessly, “So, what do we do?”

Lex frowns as he considers the question, then answers truthfully, “Whatever you want.”  Seeing Conner frown, Lex smiles, “You will learn this about me, but when it comes to the people I love, I tend to be obsessive.  So, if there is anything you want, or need, you just need to ask.”

Conner thinks this over, then tentatively asks, hopefully, “I would like to get to know you?”  Lex instantly nods.  Nervously, Conner continues, “And.. maybe we can do things.. together?”

Before Lex can answer, a voice down the hall answers, “I have some things you two can do together.”  Lex and Conner look to see Jason leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Lex gives Jason an unamused look as he asks deadpan, “And how long have you been there?”

Jason shrugs, “Not long enough.”  His voice goes soft, “And I am sorry for interrupting, but I do need the help.”

Giving a disapproving frown, Lex raises an eyebrow, “Kitchen grunt?”

With a bow, Jason motions to the dining room, “Indeed.  Dining room is all set up if you two want to move your conversation there.”  With that, Jason turns around and heads back to the kitchen.

Conner turns to Lex with a frown, “I’m missing something.”

Lex nods as he motions Conner to follow him into the dining room, “I unintentionally volunteered to be sous chef.  How are your knife skills?”

Following Lex, Conner frowns, “I’m not good at throwing them, if that’s what you are asking.”

As they enter the room, they see the long dining room table is covered with vegetables and multiple stacks of bowls.  As Conner inspects the bowls, he sees that each one has a slip of paper with instructions written on it.  Plucking one, he reads, “2 yellow onions, diced.”    He looks back to the pile of vegetables, “That is a lot of vegetables.”

Lex hums as he starts to roll up his sleeves, “Then we best get started.” 

After washing their hands and setting up, they got to work.  Conner grabs a bowl at random, and instantly frowns, “What is brunoise?”

Lex snorts lightly, “Brunoise is Jason being uppity.  It’s a small dice.”  At Conner’s scrunched look, Lex grabbed a carrot, and in a few quick movements, started putting pieces of cut carrots on Conner’s cutting board in descending order of size. “Here we have cubed, chopped, diced, brunoise, and minced.”

As Conner inspects the sizes, he confirms bitterly, “So, a small dice.”  With Lex’s nod, Conner snorts before starting to cut.  Compared to Lex, Conner’s motions are more focused and much slower as he concentrates with pure focus.  However, as he picks up a rhythm cutting vegetables, Conner asks, “So, do you cook, like to cook?”

Lex hums, “I do, to both.  Though I tend to not have enough time, I always try to at least cook breakfast every day.”

They soon start talking about hobbies, though it seems both have very limited time for them due to their ‘jobs’.

As they continue to talk and work, one of the doors to the dining room opens and Cassandra walks in.  She is still in her pajamas, but she is wide awake, a smile on her face as she walks to them.  She chirps, “Merry Christmas!”  Lex stops to greet her and gives her a hug at her silent demand. She then moves to stand next to Conner and watches him work with the same intent he is giving his work. 

After he starts his next vegetable, Conner slowly turns to her, “Do you need something, Cass?”

She shakes her head, but Lex answers, “I think she’s waiting for you to put the knife down so she can get a hug.”

Conner stares at the knife in confusion, “Oh.”  He slowly puts it down. 

As soon as it is down, Cass is in his arms.  “Merry Christmas!”  With the hugs accomplished, Cass waves them goodbye and wanders off.   Conner just watches her go in confusion before he returns to the task at hand.  Then he stops and looks at Lex, “How did you know?”

Lex smiles knowingly, “I’ve learned that if there’s anything Cassandra is in want of, it is a hug.” 

Conner pauses, “Oh…  Um.. Damien said you like hugs?”

Moving another full bowl out of the way, Lex confirms, “Indeed.  ‘A hug can turn your day around…  It’s like an emotional Heimlich.’” 

The words sound familiar.  It takes a second, but Conner perks up, “That’s from Pushing Daisies!”  At Lex’s curious look, Conner continues sheepishly, “Tim and Jason made me watch it.  I wasn’t getting all their dead quotes.”

Lex nods, “Quite a quaint show.  And one of my favorite quotes.”

In a stage whisper, Conner leans towards Lex, “Bruce reminds me of Lee Pace.” 

A tut causes both men to turn to the door where Damien is standing.  “Please.  Comparing Father to Pace is-“, Damien stops abruptly with a grimace.  Then it looks like he is physically trying not to bite his tongue as he finishes in a tone that sounds like he is reciting a common reprimand, “Is your opinion that you are allowed to have.”

Seeing the young man trying to improve his social skills causes Lex to give a warm smile as he greets him, “Good morning Damien.”  Damien walks towards the table and nods curtly at Lex, “Greetings, Luthor.”  He then turns to Conner.  And with another show of mental will, he forces the sincere words out in a haughty tone, “Conner.  It pleases me that you are joining us today.” 

With that, he turns to leave, but Lex stops him, “Damien.  Would you please take these bowls to Jason?”

Damien frowns at the bowls, then gives a dark look to Lex.  “If you think you can trick me into be a kitchen grunt, you are mistaken.”

Lex laughs as he shakes his head, “That was not my intent.  I just wished to keep the table clear.”

Damien sizes him up, before giving a sharp nod, “Very well.  He will have to retrieve them at the door.”

The bowls are collected and Damien leaves with a huff.  Conner watches him leave thoughtfully.  He then turns to Lex, “He’s getting less….”  Then with sharp motions, jerks his knife in murderous motion.

Smirking, Lex nods, “I would agree.” Changing the topic, Lex’s words get apologetic.  “Now, I hope you will forgive me Conner, but I have been intentionally avoiding the onions.  I am hoping you would the honors.”

Conner looks at the onions curiously, then turns to Lex with a sheepish grin, “They make me cry too.”

A look of utter disbelief crosses Lex’s face before he laughs fondly and shakes his head, “Of all the things to inherit from me.  A shame.”

As they both pick up an onion, Lex gently taps his onion against Conner’s in cheers, “Let us cry over poor genes together.”

Lex starts cutting, but Conner hesitates.  Then, with unsure words he states, “They aren’t…poor genes.   Just normal.”  At the innocent statement, Lex looks up curiously.  Having his attention, Conner blushes but continues with a weak smile, “It was nice…  Have something normal about me.”

 And as the first onion tear falls down Lex’s cheek, he smiles. “I’m glad I could give that to you.”

---

It seems the whole house knew to avoid the dining room during the onion cutting, because no one bothered them until they have finished.  Steph bounds in with a skip and a box of tissues. As she stops at the table, she grins at their tear streaked faces, “Sup crybabies!  Onion ninjas get you?”  With that, she uses tissues to wipe both of their faces off.  Once finished, she rests her head against Conner’s and nudges their shoulders together, “Merry Christmas, Crybaby!”  And with a giggle, she skips back out. 

Conner’s glare follows her out, “She’s a punk.”

Lex chuckles, “True.”  With that he turns to the much-diminished vegetable pile.  “’Looks like we just have potatoes left.”

A childish cry from the other side of the room startles them, “Potatoes!”  A blear of sparkly green and red run towards them and stops in front of them; a child with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, “Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew!”

Lex bends down to smile at the grinning Harper, his voice humorous, “Miss Lian, I didn’t know you were a hobbit.” 

Lian giggles, “No! I’m a bug, remember!”

Lex smiles, “Forgive me.  Does that mean you a potato bug?”

Her eyes grow big in excitement as she nods, “Yes! Imma potato bug!”  Conner’s chuckle causes her to notice him for the first time.  She subconsciously steps closer to Lex, grabbing onto his arm.  She smiles timidly at Conner as she greets him in a shy voice, “hi.”

Seeing her so unsure, Lex leans down and softly introduces them.  “Lian, this is my son Conner.”  The introduction causes both Lian and Conner’s eyes to widen in surprise. 

Lian gasps as she looks at Lex with delight, “Your son!”  Then in the abstract thought process that is a child’s mind, Lian gasps, “I have your handkerchief!”  Conner and Lex look at her in confusion, but she then pulls an orange handkerchief from a pocket on her sequined dress.  She presents it with a flourish, “Daddy said I had to give it back!”

“And what do you say?”  Roy’s voice cause Lex and Conner to look towards the door Lian had come from, seeing the archer leaning against the wall with a fairy doll looped over his crossed arms. 

Lian beams at the reminder, pulling Lex’s attention back as she exclaims, “Thank you for letting me borrow it! And braiding my hair!  And look!”  She then turns around and shows the back of her head to Lex, “Because of you, Daddy’s been practicing!”

At that, Roy frowns, “Yeah, thanks for that Luthor, showing me up like that.”

Luthor turns to him with a raised eyebrow, “That was not my intention at all.  However, I thought you would have experience with braiding your bow strings.”

Roy snorts, “Industrial bow strings and a child’s hair are not the same thing. And I don’t tie bows in my bow strings.”

This causes Lian to giggle, “Then why are they called bow strings?”

Roy points at her, with a mock disappointment face, “You know why, you troublemaker.”  His face goes gentle as he continues stern but mirthful, “Now get out of here, they have knives, and Auntie Steph says she found a Christmas fairy movie to watch with you.”

At that, Lian squeals and bolts across the room.  She stops at her father to collect her doll before heading towards the family room.  Roy shakes his head at the ball of energy that whipped by before turning back to the other men.  He eyes them up with a critical eye, before saying seriously to Conner, “Con, you cool with this guy?  He causing you any problems?”

At the blunt questions, Conner startles, “What? No!”

Roy looks him over, taking in his expression.  With a nod, he lets it go, though he says just as stern, “Good.  I have experience with punk father figures, so you just let me know if that changes.”  With that, he follows after his daughter, leaving Conner and Lex alone.

Lex raises an eyebrow to Conner, which cause Conner to sputter, “Sorry!  I don’t-  He means-“

With a raised hand to stop Conner’s sputtering, Lex interrupts softly, “It’s alright.”  Seeing Conner still wearing a concerned face, Lex reaffirms, “It is.  You have made yourself friends that care about you.  A family where I was unable to provide one.  I would take a thousand threats, knowing that a thousand people cared about you.”

At Conner’s small but satisfied grin, Lex asks sincerely, “Now that everyone is up, if you would rather spend time with your friends right now, I’d understand.”

Conner instantly rejects, “What? No!  I’m good.”  The smile is back, his voice a little quieter as if sharing a secret, “This is good.”  Lex shares his smile and the two get to work on cutting the potatoes. 

Halfway through the pile, the lifeless zombie that is a sleep-deprived Timothy Drake enters the room.    Dressed in his pajamas, his steps drag as he moved towards the table.  He stops next to Conner and mumbles incomprehendible words.  He then abruptly sits on the chair next to Conner and falls against Conner’s side, instantly asleep.

Besides re-positioning his cutting arm to accommodate the added weight, Conner acts as if this is a common occurrence.  Due to Tim’s horrid sleeping habits, Lex isn’t surprised at all.  Though, now that he’s thinking about it, “Conner, have you noticed a change in Tim’s sleeping habit since he started working for me?”

Conner thinks about it slowly than answers thoughtfully, “Yes and no.  I’d say he is getting the same amount of sleep, but it seems at more consistent times.”

Lex frowns, not liking the answer but thankful that the work is not wrecking his employee’s already chaotic sleep habits.

Before long, Martha and Alfred enter the room, their arms full of bowls, cookie sheets, and rolling pins.  Martha smiles at the two of them as she starts to empty her arms onto the table, “How are you boys doing?”

Conner answers truthfully with a small smile, “We’re good Ma.”

Martha beams at him, “Good to hear.  Now, since you are near done with your veggies, we got your next task for ya.”  She presents her bowl which is full of sugar cookie dough, while also pulling cookie cutters out of her apron pocket.  With a smile, she sets them down, “You know how this goes, so get right on it!”  Martha and Alfred wait just long enough for Lex to finish the last potato before they scoop up the remaining vegetable bowls and vanish back into the kitchen. 

Lex gets up and stacks the cutting boards, moving them and the knives out of the way, onto a server table to the side.  He turns back to Conner and sees that Conner is still in his seat, unable to move due to the sleeping Tim against him.  Lex smirks and shakes his head, “I’m going to go wash my hands.  I’ll send help.”  Conner frowns as he watches Lex leave. 

A few minutes later, Mercy walks in, grinning as she sees the situation Conner is in, “Hey kid. Heard you got catnapped.”  At Conner’s confused face, she comes over and sits down in Lex’s seat so she can lean on the table to talk to Conner.  “You know?  When a cat falls asleep on your lap so you’re stuck forever, or until they decide to move.” 

As Conner starts to nod in understanding, she grins and changes the subject, “Nice to officially meet ya, kid.”  Conner looks down at his dirty hands and frowns, wanting to offer his hand but not.  Seeing his dilemma, Mercy smirks, “Don’t sweat it kid.  We’ll be seeing each other around.” 

Conner looks at her and asks tentatively, “So, You’re Lex’s….”  Not quite sure what to say, he ends up finishing with an unsure, “person?”

Mercy smirks, “Yeah, that about sums it up.  I’m his person.”  Her smirk turns soft, falling into a gentle smile as she places her hand over one of Conner’s wrists, “Hey, I don’t know if you know this, but Lex isn’t the best at emoting, so just encase you don’t know, he’s really stoked you’re here, k?” 

A secretively pleased smile is her answer.  With that, she pats Conner’s wrist and stands up, “Good. Now, I’ll remove your cat so you can get back to work.”  With minimal effort, she scoops Tim up in her arms and easily carries him out of the room without waking him.

No longer trapped, Conner follows Lex to wash his hands.  After washing hands, Lex has them detour to the kitchen to get wet clothes to wipe the dining room table off.  With their arms full, they both enter the dining room just in time to see Dick scoop a spoonful of raw cookie dough from the bowl and shove it in his mouth. 

Lex frowns and with a disapproving voice, “That has raw eggs in it.” 

Dick just shrugs and speaks around the mouthful, “Imma risk it?”  With that, he walks toward them, ruffling Conner’s hair as he walks past them and exiting the room, “Merry Christmas!”

That starts Lex and Conner talking about favorite foods.  As they set up and start rolling dough and cutting cookies, they get in debates about the best type of cookie, to what foods pineapple and cream cheese belong on and in, individually.  As they finish the first bowl of dough, the Michael Bublé music is abruptively stopped and ‘This is Halloween’ starts playing.  From a few rooms away, they hear a loud, angry, “CAIN!”, echo into the room.

At Conner’s concerned look, Lex chuckles, “Cassandra has been playing Nightmare Before Christmas non-stop all week.  Seems Damien has finally had enough.”

Cassandra bolts into the room and hiding behind Conner, just in time for Damien to run in after her.  Seeing her intentionally bad hiding place, Damien stomps his foot down, “Coward, quit hiding behind Conner. I will not listen to this wretched soundtrack one more time, especially on Christmas!”

Cassandra peaks her head out from behind Conner and gives a small smile, “Compromise?”

Damien tuts, but then sighs, “Fine.  You get one cycle of those dreadful Muppets’ Christmas songs.  Then you will put Bublé back on!”

Cassandra skips out and offers her hand, “Deal!”  With a handshake, the two leave just as quickly as they came.  However, not before a cookie cutter in the shape of a bat ‘mysteriously’ appeared on the table in front of Lex.  Which Lex uses exclusively afterwards. 

With the provided topic change, their conversation then turns to music.  The conversation carries them through the rest of their task. As they roll out the rest of the scraps, Bruce comes in with a cup of coffee in hand.  Seeing them, he smiles as he walks over, “Merry Christmas Conner.”  Conner, too consumed with aligning the cookie cutter up exactly right on the last of his dough, barely mumbles a reply.

Turning his attention to Lex, Bruce bends down and speaks softly, “Merry Christmas Lex.” 

Lex looks up at him, and even though he meets Bruce halfway into a kiss, Lex’s frowning.  As they part, he replies, “You think you are so clever, don’t you?” 

Bruce just gives a shark’s grin, “Yes I do.”  With that, he steals a scrap of dough from the table and eats it. 

Lex’s frown turns into a scowl as he repeats the words, “That has raw eggs in it.”

Bruce just keeps smirking, “I’m going to risk it.” 

Lex just shakes his head at the apparent family motto, “With such a sweet tooth, I’m surprised that your teeth haven’t fallen out.”

Leaning down, Bruce’s voice gets quiet and suggestive, “Would you like to take a look?”

Unamused, Lex frowns at him, “I’m a Doctor, not a Dentist.”

Nodding sagely, Bruce straightens up.  He speaks with a toying voice, “Then you should let my Dentist worry about my teeth.”  Then with a wink, “You on the other hand should be worried about my diabetes.”

The scowl evolves into a mock grimace as Lex looks away, “You are a menace.”

Bruce bends down and kisses Lex’s temple, his words fond, “I know.”  He then steps away and sets his coffee cup down on a server table, “I am also the kitchen grunt in charge of setting the table, once you two are done.”

This causes Lex to grin as he watched Bruce pull plates out from one of the display cases lining the walls.  With a knowing look, he cannot keep the mirth from his voice, “Just can’t leave people alone to their own devices, can you?”

Bruce shrugs nonchalantly, “Can’t help it.”  As he sets the plates down, he bats his eyes at Lex, “Speaking of help…”

---

With the three working together, the table is quickly cleaned and set just in time for Christmas Dinner.  Once all the food is brought in and the dinner bell rung, the whole family enters the room like a force of nature.  There’s a shuffle and bustle as everyone finds their seats and food starts to be passed around.  And as the family comes together to share their meal, conversations bloom around table.

---

“Wait, you guys don’t give Christmas presents?!”  Lian’s gasp echoes across the table.

Dick just nods solemnly, “Yep.  After someone had to make it a competition…”

Damien snorts as he throws down his napkin, “I still refuse to admit that buying you a Circus was too excessive.”

Lian stares at him in shocked awe, her voice high pitched, “You bought him a circus?!”

Dick leans towards her, “See, excessive.”  His words turn melodramatic, ”Since that year, we have to wait until Birthdays to shower people with our affection.”

Thinking about that causes Lian to frown.  She then turns to Mercy who is sitting across the table from Dick and asks tentatively, “Do you give Christmas gifts?”

Mercy snorts, “Lex and I don’t even do Birthday gifts anymore.”  The whole table responses in horror.  Mercy waves them off, “Yeah, after Lex-“ Realizing what she was going to admit, she cuts herself off before eyeing the table with suspicion.  She then continues, but her voice is overly sweet, a little fake as she gives a PR answer, “after Lex did a really thoughtful, caring, legal gift,” Her voice goes back to normal, “I gave up trying.  You can’t compete with money and power.”

This causes Dick to shouts in despair, “Gift-giving is not a competition!  What’s wrong with you people?!”

---

 “Daddy, can I get one?!”

Roy looks across the table at his daughter.  She’s standing on her chair, leaning against the table to get his attention.  Frowning in suspicion, he asks, “Get what?”

Lian’s face lights up as she explains excitedly, “Mister Luthor was telling me about a science lab gift he got at my age!  He says it blows up!  I want one!”

Roy instantly starts shaking his head, “Nope, sorry honey.  No can do.”

Lex raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, “Are you saying she can’t cause she’s a girl?”

Roy gasps at the implication, then stands up and points a finger at Lex aggressively, “Don’t you put words in my mouth Luthor.  My girl can do whatever she wants!  I just want my girl to have eyebrows, thank you very much!”

Tim smirks, “That sounds like a story.”

Steph cackles, “Roy, did you blow your eyebrows off with a kid lab?”

Roy speaks through clenched teeth, “Maybe.”

Lex just shrugs, “I say let Lian have a kit.  Eyebrows are overrated.”

Martha speaks up with a knowing smirk, “Says the man with prosthetic eyebrows.”

Everyone stops and slowly turn to look at Lex in surprise.  Lex only shrugs, grinning back at Martha, “Touché.”

Jumping into the lull of conversation, Lian leans forward, “What if Mister Luthor did the science with me!”

Not liking his daughter trying to negotiate, Roy frowns.  However, unknowingly, behind him Steph is motioning Lian to look at Conner.  Confused, Lian turns around and seeing Conner look at her, she grins.  Turning back her dad, Lian adds excitedly, “And Conner!  What if they both do it with me!”

Roy swallows a groan.  He doesn’t know how, but he’s been played.  Knowing he could never turn down the chance for those two to be together, Roy concedes with a sigh.  “Fine, you can do science with Luthor and Conner.  But they are paying for it!  All of it, even the eyebrow transplants!”

---

“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie!”, Dick exclaims over his second helping of mash potatoes.

Mercy shakes her fork at him, “Listen here Nightingale.  The movie is set during Christmas, it’s a Christmas movie!”

Dick refutes heatedly, “A Christmas movie has to be kid appropriate!  It has to be a tale of Christmas spirit, or love, or good will to all!”

Not caving, Mercy doubles down, “Die Hard has all of that!”

“No it doesn’t!”  Pulling out his last card, Dick yells as he pokes the table aggressively to make his point, “Christmas movies don’t have bombs in them!”   

---

Lian leans towards Conner, “Why does she keep calling him Nightingale?”  Conner freezes.  Unable to come up with an answer, he looks to Lex for guidance.  However, before Lex can answer, Lian sees Conner’s concerned face and asks solemnly, “Is it an adult answer?”

Seeing the out for what it is, he nods, “Yes.  Only adults can know.” 

Lian nods sagely like she understands, then she says matter-of-factly, “Then I get to ask a child question.”  Confused, Conner looks to Roy.

Roy smirks, “Hey, you got to pay the kid tax if you can’t give her the real answers.”  He turns to Lian and nods, “Ask away, little bug.”

Lian grins and turns to Conner and asks in an excited voice, “Who is your favorite fairy?!”

This startles Conner even more than the first question, his answer comes out unsure, “I.. uh.  Only know Tinker Bell?”

Lian pats his hand gently like she’s consoling him, “It’s okay.  It’s okay to like Tinker Bell.”  However, her tone says it is definitely not okay.

Seeing Conner so distraught about upsetting Lian over a fairy, Lex decides to intervene.  He decides to share something important to him.  “My mother would read me Peter Pan almost every night.”  This grabs everyone’s attention.  Lex tries not to smile as he continues softly, in remembrance, “Her favorite quote was about Tinker Bell.” 

Lian leans in and asks, “What is it?”

Lex smiles at her, and then he quotes the line that his mother would say.  A line that makes him smile a bittersweet smile.  A line that seemed to hit a little too close to home not so long ago. 

“Tink was not all bad: or, rather, she was all bad just now, but, on the other hand, sometimes she was all good.  Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.  They are, however, allowed to change, only it must be a complete change.”   

The table falls silent as they stare at Lex, though a few glances wonder over to Conner. However, the silence is broken as Lian whispers in awed delight, “Am I a fairy?!”

Lex chuckles and responds, “With that logic, I think we are all fairies when we are little.”

Lian pouts, “So, I won’t be a fairy if I grow up?”

Before Lex can answer, Conner does.  Conner, who had been processing the quote and comparing it to himself, leans over to her and softly confesses, “I think I’m still a fairy.”

Lian’s face lights up in a smile and she whispers back excitedly, “We can be fairies together!”

---

 The Christmas Dinner winds down.  As plates empty and get stacked, everyone stays at the table talking. However, after hours of food and conversation, Martha slowly stands up, “Conner, I reckon it’s time we head out.  Don’t want Clark to know about our little day trip, do we?”  With that, she gives Lex a wink.  Roy also stands up, “We should head out as well, Little Bug.  Gotta get you to Gramma and Gramps in time for supper.” 

Lian groans as she motions to her empty plate, “But we just ate!  So much!”

Roy chuckles, “I think Alfred has some cookies that will be coming with us.”

“Cookies!”, the words change her tune, for Lian jumps up excited, “Let’s go Daddy!”

So, with the help of the family, the guests slowly gather their things and head towards the door.  Roy and Lian are the first to leave, with lots of hugs and kisses and very confused, “Why are there bat cookies?!”

Bruce smiles at her, “It is an inside joke for your grandparents.  Make sure to save some for them.”

With the Harpers gone, the goodbyes turn to the Kents.  The family swarm Conner, giving him hugs and goodbyes.  As Lex watches from the back, Martha comes up behind him and squeezes his arm.  Once she has his attention, she smiles at him warmly, “You sure turned into to a good man, Lex.”  Seeing the lightest of blushes on his cheeks, she slowly turns him around to face her.  “Lex, I know life’s been hard, but we’ve all had a go at it.  We all have our flaws, and we’ve all made our mistakes.”

Lex frowns, but Martha shushes him, “While some think that you’ve fallen the farthest, I believe you have come the farthest of us all.  Because of that, I just wanted you to know that I’m proud of you Lex.”  Martha then looks over to Conner, and Lex follows her line of sight just in time to see Bruce hug Conner goodbye.  Martha nudges Lex’s arm to get his attention back.  She smiles and whispers, “You deserve to be good.”

They stand in silence watching the rest of the clan say their goodbyes to Conner until Alfred comes up behind them, “Master Alexander, I believe this is important.”  Lex looks and sees Alfred extend a pack of beer to him.  “Thank you for reminding me Alfred.”  He takes the case and turns to Martha.  “Martha, would you do me a favor and give this to Clark.”

Martha snorts as she inspects the offered box, “Trying to get both of my boys drunk now?”  She pulls a bottle out and reads the label with a guffaw, “Bitter Tithes.”  She swats at Lex again, "Oh you."  Reading the rest of the bottle, she chuckled, “Designed to make even the Gods pay penance.”  She rolls her eyes fondly as she puts it back in the box.  “Lex, you sure are a troublemaker.” Then with a mischievous grin, she says, “I’ll tell him that you had it delivered to the house overnight.  That should put him in a tizzy.”

Lex chuckles along with her, before giving her a goodbye hug, “It has truly been an honor Martha.” 

As she hugs back, she says sincerely, “I agree, Lex.  Let’s do this again.”  She then swats his arm, “And how about sooner than a decade?”  Without waiting for Lex to answer, Martha turns to Alfred, “Alfred, would you be a dear and show me where the restroom is again?  I should go before I go.”

Lex frowns as he watches the two walk away, realizing that in the moment he failed to notice that the rest of the clan had vanished as well, including Bruce.  Once again, Lex is left alone with Conner.    Lex turns to Conner and smirks, “They are quite good at that.” 

Conner nods slowly, “The disappearing act?  Yeah.”  He then pauses, his face uncertain, “So…”

Not wanting their goodbye to be awkward, Lex places his hands on Conner’s shoulders and tells him truthfully, “Conner, I meant what I said.  If there is anything you want, or need, you just need to ask.”  At Conner’s still unsure face, Lex says sincerely, “Conner, it’s okay to ask for things.  To want things.”  At Conner’s tentative nod, Lex continues, “And I promise that no matter what you ask of me, I will do everything in my power to do so.  So, please, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Conner looks at him, searching for the truth in his words.  And while he believes him, Conner ends up saying the first absurd thing that comes to mind.  “I want a pony.”

Lex laughs and shakes his head fondly, “I’ll have it sent to the farm.”

Conner then gets a challenging look on his face, “I want a spaceship.”

Seeing Conner’s smirk, Lex just nods solemnly, though his voice carries mirth, “It’s yours.”

The challenging look stays on Conner’s face, but it turns a little fragile as he says softly, “I want to call you dad?”

Shock and surprise turn into joy as Lex answers without thought, “As many times as it pleases you.”

At his confirmation, Conner dives forward, hugging Lex to him.  As he buries his face into Lex’s chest, he cries.  And as Lex’s tears fall on Conner’s head, the two cling to each other.  It is only when Martha’s footsteps echo down the hall do they pull away.  Grabbing Conner’s shoulders again, Lex tells Conner once more as he looks imploringly into his eyes, “I mean it Conner.  Anytime, anywhere.  If you need anything, all you need to do is ask.”

Conner answers sincerely, “I will.”

And thus, with hugs and promises Lex sees the Kents out.  As the door shuts behind them, Lex just stands there, staring.  Lost in thought, Lex barely notices when Bruce comes up behind him, slowly snaking his arms around Lex’s waist.  Bruce sets his chin on Lex’s shoulder and says softly, “Lex.  Everyone’s taking a nap before patrol. Will you join me?”

Lex hums in affirmation, yet he still stands there staring at the door.  Bruce stays, standing silently behind Lex as he waits for Lex to come out of thought.  Finally, slowly, Lex slowly turns around in Bruce’s arm until he is facing him.  He says softly as if he is still processing everything, “I have a son.”

Bruce smiles and raises a hand to cup Lex’s face, “You have a family.”  Surprise and awe flitter across Lex’s face.  Bruce chuckles and kisses Lex softly, “It might seem unconventional, but he is your family.”  Bruce then motions abstractly at the Manor, “This is your family.”  Bruce cups Lex’s face once more and whispers against his lips, “You are our family.”

Lex’s face turns slack with dawning realization, leaving him stunned.  Bruce leans his forehead against Lex and asks softly, “Are you good?” 

After a second Lex hums, then as he looks Bruce in the eyes, he answers, though his voice seems far away, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Bruce smiles and gently kisses Lex, “Good.”  Bruce then slowly looks up, intentionally making Lex look up as well.  When Lex spots the mistletoe he smiles fondly at Bruce. Bruce just grins and dips in for another kiss.  With lips pressed together, Bruce whispers, “Merry Christmas Lex.”

Chapter 22: The Residency

Summary:

Work and family drama don’t mix.  

The holidays pass and life returns to normal.  Or as normal as it could with Metropolis in shambles.  With Lex doing most of his work from home, Alfred had aired out one of the offices for Lex to use.  The office was a spacious, brightly lit room in one of the lesser-used wings of the Manor. Far away from the normal day hustle and bustle, Lex found it an ideal place to work.  Yet time and time again, over the weeks Lex finds his work continually interrupted by the Wayne family.  

---

Lex is reviewing the proposed budget for rebuilding three of the LexCorp buildings that were destroyed in the quakes when there is a knock on the door.

Lex looks up to see Steph standing in the doorway, a hairbrush in hand.  Raising an eyebrow, he asks, “How can I help you, Stephanie?”  

She smiles and wiggles the brush in hand, “I have to go down in the sewers tonight, and Bruce said I should ask you to braid my hair.”

Lex puts down his pen and motions her in, “Of course.”

In a few minutes, he braids a tight, stiff braid into her hair and pins it up.  With a thank you and a wave, Steph leaves.

Minutes later, Lex is then interrupted by Cassandra. Seeing her holding a hairbrush as well, Lex asks curiously, “The sewers for you as well?”

Cassandra just shakes her head no and smiles coyly.  

With a soft smile, he motions her in, “Then maybe you would like something a little more fanciful.”

---

Lex is drawing up the blueprints for the new Lex Tower when he is interrupted by a curt, “Luthor.”

Not looking up as he finishes drawing a new baseline, Lex asks softly, “How may I assist you Damien?”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Damien approach his drawing table.  In the same curt tone, Damien says, “I would like your expertise.”

At the request, Lex finally looks over to Damien and frowns.  In one hand Damien is holding a sewing kit.  In the other is a stuffed animal duck that looks like it’s seen better days, a long rip down its side has its stuffing falling out. Damien explains dully, “Titus continues to rip this seam open, even after multiple attempts at stitching it.” 

Putting down his pen and ruler, Lex smirks, “Ah.  I do suppose a surgical stitch would have the best chance withstanding his roughhousing.”  Taking the duck and sewing kit, Lex moves to his desk.  As he threads the needle, he motions Damien over, “If you would assist by holding the incision closed, I will be able to fix this for you quickly.”

Together, the duck is repaired.  Then, after gathering the sewing kit and the duck, Damien gives the smallest bow to Lex, “Thank you for your time.”  And with his polite thanks, he is gone.

---

Lex is expecting an email from Tim about his current proposal when Tim himself walks in.  Tim waves at Lex sluggishly, and through a yawn says, “I thought it would be better if I was here when you reviewed it.”  At Lex’s nod, Tim sits down in the chair in front of Lex’s desk and hands a tablet to Lex to read.  Taking the tablet, Lex starts reading Tim’s work.  

When Lex finishes, he looks to Tim to ask a question but finds the young man asleep, his head lulled back over the back of the chair.  With a shake of his head, Lex makes some quick notes on the proposal before messaging Mercy.  

When Mercy enters the office and sees Tim, she frowns, “This kid.  He really can just sleep anywhere.”  She keeps talking as she gently picks Tim up, “I once found him asleep on the stair banister.  Like a monorail cat.”  With that, she leaves with Tim in her arms.

---

Lex has been yelling disagreeing with one of the construction companies for two hours.  When he finally hangs up, he props his arms up on his desk and cradles his head in his hands.  Someone’s hand settles on his head and starts rubbing firm strokes across his scalp.  With his eyes closed and a soft groan, Lex leans back into his chair.  The hand follows, and a humorous voice speaks above him, “That bad?”

Lex opens his eyes and frowns at Bruce, “They are all fools.”  Then in a wistful voice,  “All I want is perfection.”

Bruce smirks and gives Lex a wink, “Well, you have me.”

Lex frowns, “I may love you Bruce Wayne, but you are far from perfect.”

Bruce’s smirk turns into a small smile as he bends down and gives Lex a peck on the lips, “Agreed.  Yet, for some reason you’ve chosen me.”  

Lex gives Bruce a smirk, his words warm, “I have.”

Bruce then gives Lex a knowing look, “So, maybe you can give Peter from Riverside Construction a break and not fire him?”

Lex gives Bruce a disinterested look.  However, after Bruce kisses him until they both need air, Lex finally sighs, “I’ll consider it.”

---

Lex is reading the latest set of reports from Livefire.  So wrapped up in Doctor Endo’s findings, Lex has to do a double take when he sees Conner sitting on the floor in the middle of the office.  Conner must have been there awhile cause he has text books and papers strung around him, and a concentrated look is on his face as he squints at the paper he is writing on.  Not wanting to startle him, Lex softly calls, “Conner?”

Conner looks up quickly and gives Lex a small wave, his words unsure, “Uh, hi?.. Dad?” 

Lex smiles, “I’m glad you are here, Conner.  You could have interrupted me.”

Conner shares a small smile, “Your work seemed important.  Besides, I had homework.”  Conner then grabs one of the books and clutches it to his chest as he turns to Lex, “Actually, that’s why I’m here.”  His face turns sheepish as he asks timidly, “Could you help me?”

Without thought, Lex promises, “Always.”

Conner sighs in relief as he gets up, “My physics professor makes no sense.”

Lex also sighs quietly in relief once he hears it’s on a subject he is excessively familiar with. As Conner sets his textbook down on Lex’s desk, Lex motions him to take a seat, “Let’s see what we have.” 

---

 It is late into the evening, and with the entire clan out on patrol Lex is using the quiet time to reassemble one of his broken devices that had been recovered from his sunken tower.  With soldering tool in hand, Lex almost burns himself when his office door slams open.  As he looks over, he instantly knows something is wrong.  

Damien is standing in the doorway in full Robin gear.  While Lex can’t see Damien’s eyes behind the domino mask, the young man is pale and his whole body is stiff.  But it’s the sheen of blood on his gloves that concerns Lex the most.  Lex quickly gets up and approaches to stand in front of Damien.  Not wanting to touch him or startle him, Lex speaking slowly, “Damien.  Are you okay?”  Damien gives a nod, but it's jerky.  

Lex asks, “Damien, is everyone else okay?”  Damien shudders, but gives another sharp nod.  Needing to verify, Lex re-words his question, “So, no one needs any medical attention?”  Another nod.  While the answer should relieve him, seeing this young man still so distraught, Lex asks, “Damien. What do you need?”

“I need-” Damien’s jaw clamps shut in a loud snap.  When he does speak, it sounds like he is trying his hardest to sound normal; to sound like his normal, snotty self instead of a distraught, needy child.  “I would like an emotional heimlich.”  Lex gives him a broken smile as he pulls Damien into his arms.  There, Damien grips Lex’s shirt with his bloody gloves and buries his face in the sullied fabric and wails.  

When the cries quiet down and the tears stop falling, Lex gathers Damien up onto the couch, wraps him in a blanket and holds him.  Lex holds him as, with a detached voice hoarse from spent emotions, Damien tells Lex about the dog fighting ring they found.  

---

Mercy

Kunoa needs their yearly audit done. 

Lex

Send Jones.

Lex is reading Mercy’s text when Bruce comes into the office and shuts the door behind him.  As Lex looks up, Bruce glares at him, “We are in trouble.”

Raises an eyebrow, Lex frowns, “How so?”

Bruce stalks to the desk and crosses his arms, “Alfred and Mercy are talking.”

Lex tilts his head curiously, “And why is that an issue?”

Bruce tuts, “It’s an issue when they are talking about how I haven’t taken a vacation in years.”

In delayed realization, Lex’s eyes widen in concern, “Nor I.”

Seeing that Lex is on the same page, Bruce states, “If those two team up-”  However, Bruce is interrupted by Lex’s phone pinging.  Lex reads the text and sighs in defeat, “It’s too late.”

Mercy

Why don’t you do it?  Maybe even take Bruce?  Enjoy the beaches while you’re there.

Lex

No. 

Mercy

Resistance is futile, Lex.  

Lex

We can resist you just fine.

A new text pings.

Pennyworth

If I must, I am more than willing to call Misses Kent.

At Lex’s look of fear, Bruce knows they lost.  As Lex drops his phone on the desk, he looks at Bruce and sighs, “I am sorry, Bruce.  It was inevitable.”

---

Lex is in the middle of approving employee reviews when Barbara rolls in. As Lex looks at her, he sees that she has her Lifelimbs in her lap. He stands up to greet her, “Good morning, Barbara.  What may I do for you?”

She picks up one of the limbs and holds it out to him, “I brought these over cause one of its circuits shorted out.”

Taking the limb, Lex starts to inspect it.  As he looks at one of the sensors, he asks, “Were you wearing them when it went off?”  At her confirmation, Lex turns to Barbara in concern, “Did you sustain any injuries?”

With a shrug, she answers, “A few burns, but I was sitting at the time.”

Instead of alleviating his concern, it seems to increase as Lex frowns at her, his tone accusing, “Burns?  I’m assuming you went to the hospital and had them looked at.”

At the harsh tone, Barbara frowns and shakes her head, “No.  They were just minor burns.  I just put some cream on them and wrapped them.”

With a snarl, Lex bites out, “That was reckless!  We are not talking normal burns, Barbara!  Electrical burns can be more damaging. They can cause heartaches, seizures, and nerve damage.”

Not liking his tone, Barbara’s voice turns condescending, “Nerve damage?  Oh wow!  How inconvenient for me.”

Lex sighs through his nose before repreminding her, “Barbara, just because your current condition-”

This causes Barbara to snap, her words shrill, “Current condition?!  It’s a permanent condition Luthor!  I won’t ever feel my legs again!”

With a furious shout that echoes throughout the office, Lex yells back, “But you could!”

The words drain all the emotion out of Barbara, leaving her pale in shock.  Her words come out frail and confused, “What?”

Lex turns around to collect himself, then in slow, forcefully calm words, he says, “We.. We are looking into using Livefire in corrective surgeries.”  He motions to the Lifelimb in her lap, “These, they are all just the beginning.”

Barbara slowly picks up the limb as if seeing it for the first time.  She then looks at Lex again, a fragile look of hope on her face, “You mean… I could…”

He gives her an equally fragile smile, his words earnest, “That’s the goal.”  They both take a big breath together.  After a few minutes as they gather themselves, Lex apologies, “I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me.”

Barbara smiles, though it's a little weak, “That’s okay.  It was a good 'angry dad' mood.”  Lex raises an eyebrow quizzically.  Barbara laughs, “When you get angry out of concern.  I get it alot from my dad and from Bruce.”

Lex nods in understanding, then he asks softly, “Barbara, may I please take you downstairs to the medbay so I can take a look at your burns?”

Barbara nods, “Yeah.  That sounds like a good idea, now that you mentioned it.”

---

That day, when Lex stepped into the Batcave’s medbay it seemed like a signal for all of the bat clan.  Everyone knew that Lex was a doctor, it just didn’t really click that you could go to him for medical help until they actually saw him treating Babs’s burns.  And from that moment on, a lot of Lex’s interruptions started ending up down in the medbay, no matter how big or small the issue was.

---

Lex doesn’t even make it to his office when Dick strolls up to him, and proudly presents his hand to Lex.  In the palm of Dick’s hand is a tooth.  Lex gives Dick an unamused look, “I’m a doctor, not a dentist.”  

Dick smirks, “Oh, I know.  I just thought that you might want to take a look at the bite mark.”

Lex balks, “Someone bit you?!”  He grabs Dick by the arm and starts steering him towards the Batcave.

Dick just chuckles, “What, afraid I’ll turn into a zombie?”

A glare is his answer, and Lex’s words stop Dick cold, “If I were you, I’d worry about needing a rabies shot.”

---

Lex is trying to decipher Doctor Turner’s chicken-scratch notes when he hears his office door open and Jason’s voice carrying in, “So, Lex. Be cool.”

Looking up, Lex sees Jason and Roy.  More specifically, he sees Jason with an arrow in his shoulder, and a very freaked out Roy.  With a deep sigh, Lex puts down his magnifying glass and says with a dull voice, “You are dripping blood everywhere.”

This seems to trigger Roy, as he shouts, “How can you be so calm?!  I almost killed him!”

Lex answers as he gets up and walks over to them, “Jason told me to ‘be cool’, so I’ll trust that it is a superficial wound.”  He inspects the injury, and says professionally, “It is not a through and through.  It is not bleeding excessively.  Due to the thickness of his jacket, I would agree with the assessment that there is minimal damage.”  

Roy looks at him, a mix of hope and suspicion on his face, “You sure?”

Lex nods, and then with a sure hand he grabs the arrow at the base of the arrowhead and gives a firm but small tug.  The arrow comes free, and a small squirt of blood hits Roy directly in the face, causing him to faint to the ground.

Lex frowns down at the unconscious body and says to Jason, “For a vigilante archer, I would have expected a better blood tolerance.”  

Jason snorts as he shakes his head fondly, “I think it’s only because it’s my blood.”

Lex hums as he leans in to inspect the wound, “Superficial.  I would offer to stitch it up, but I have a feeling you will want to keep this scar.”

Jason grins as he bends down and gathers Roy into his arms, “Oh yeah.  He’s never going to live this one down.”

---

Lex gives a long suffering sigh as he asks, “So, what happened?”

In front of him, Conner is holding Damien in a tight, unbreakable hold.  Though Damien tries his hardest to break free, the Kryptonian’s grip doesn’t budge.  With a put upon sigh, Damien tuts, “The issue is Conner watches too much television.”

Ignoring Damien, Lex motions for Conner to explain the situation.  Conner nods, “So, there was an explosion.  Damien was the closest to it, and I’m concerned about smoke inhalation.”

Damien’s arrogant tone isn’t as effective as he tries again to wiggle free, “I was at a perfectly good distance.  There is no reason for such concern.”

Lex nods, “That could be the case.  Luckily there are a few quick tests to make sure.”  He grabs an Otoscope and politely asks, “Say ahh.”

The few quick tests turn into ten minutes of Conner manhandling Damien into the tests.  Finally, with his mouth, throat, and lungs checked, Conner finally releases Damien.

Damien tuts angrily, “I told you.  This was all unnecessary.”

Conner frowns at him as he crosses his arms, “Is it so bad that I was just concerned about you?”

Damien opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.  Then with a haughty tone, Damien concedes, “There are worse things.”

---

“I’ll never type again!”

The words of despair pull Lex from his monthly HR report.  He looks up to see Timothy standing in his doorway, clutching a bleeding hand to his chest.  With a sigh, Lex gets up and grabs a handful of kleenex before walking to Timothy, “What happened?”

Almost in a daze, Timothy watches Lex press the kleenex into his wounded hand, “I was making lunch.”

As Lex inspects the wound, he frowns, “What were you using, a batarang?”  At Tim’s sheepish look, Lex starts steering him to the Batcave, “Timothy, you know you aren’t allowed in the kitchen unsupervised.  Now, let’s go get you stitched up.”

---

Lex shoves the mouth guard in front of Jason’s face, “I said, bite down.”

Jason glares over it, “Just fucking set it, doc.”

Frustrated and tired from being dragged out of bed, Lex throws the guard down and gets ready to realign Jason’s broken femur.  He grumbles, “Do not come bothering me if you break your teeth.”

Jason gives a haughty reply, “Yeah, yeah.  You’re a doctor, not a dentist.”

In retaliation, Lex might have been a little more rough than needed when the bone gets pushed back in place.

---

Steph’s cackling echoes down the hall, “Lex, call up a retirement home!  Dick dislocated his hip!”  

---

While Lex is reading his morning emails, his chair is pulled away from the computer.  Before Lex can reply, he has a lap full of Bruce.  Indulging the man, Lex allows the makeout session to commence. As they are kissing, Bruce grabs Lex’s right hand and slowly presses it against Bruce’s ribs.  Bruce’s hiss of comfort causes Lex to lean back with a frown, “Instead of using my hands, you could go get a real ice pack.”

Bruce just grins against Lex’s lips, “I refuse.”

---

The fact that Damien calls Lex down to the Batcave in the middle of the day is curious.  When he gets down there and finds it empty, he starts getting suspicious.  However, when Damien comes whipping into the cave on his motorcycle at an unsafe speed, with a passenger on his back, Lex starts to get concerned.

As Lex approaches the bike, he notices that both Damien and his passenger are wearing civilian clothes, except Damien is wearing a domino mask.  The passenger is looking around the cave in wonder.  However, as she looks in Lex’s direction, both Lex and her widen their eyes in surprise.

Harley asks in a slurred voice, “Lutha’  What’s he doin’ here?”  

Damien gets off the bike and gently grabs Harley’s arm to steady her.  He says sternly with a voice laced in concern, “Luthor is a doctor. You will let him look at you.” 

As Harley slowly processes the words, she turns back to Lex with an assessing look.  Then with a wide grin that looks edged with pain, she asks, “You gonna stitch me up?”  Lex grows concerned when a speck of blood bubbles at the corner of her mouth.  Reading the concern on Lex’s face makes Harley frown.  When she turns to Damien, her words sound worn and nervous, “Kid, you gonna to make sure he does it right, right?”

Damien nods solemnly, “Of course.”

That relieves all the concern on Harley’s face and she pats his arms, though her aim seems off, “Good, I trust ya.”  With that, she passes out, falling forward against Damien.  When she does, Lex finally sees her back, and the foot long piece of glass sticking out of it. 

Instantly in doctor mode, Lex helps Damien reposition Harley so they can move her to the med bay, while demanding in a stern voice, “What happened?”

Damien loops Harley’s arm over his shoulder, being mindful of the glass, “We were having lunch at the abandoned circus, discussing the proper qualities of throwing knives.  Her attempt to throw one ricocheted and shattered a glass mirror above us.”  As they reach the medbay, Damien pauses, and his words get wobbly as he confesses, “She shielded me.”  

Once she is laid face down across a bed, Lex starts cutting off her jacket, “While I do a scan to assess the damage, I need you to access her file and find her blood type.  If the damage isn’t extensive, we will be able to treat her here.”

Damien pauses, “And if it is extensive?”

Putting his hand on Damien's shoulder reassuringly, Lex says, “With the blood in her mouth, I am concerned that the glass has entered her lung.  If that is the case, we will have to take her to a hospital.”  

With a nod, Damien leaves.  When he comes back with her blood type, Lex is looking at the scans.  Showing Damien the scans, he says, “It looks like the glass has only clipped her lung.  With no other organs injured, I say we can just stitch her up here.  Though, we will need to keep her under a watchful eye for a few days to make sure her lung heals fine.”  

Damien looks at the scan, then at Lex, his words in hopeful awe, “She’ll be fine?”

Lex nods, “Yes.  Though I’ll need your help.  This will take some time to do right.”

Damien nods firmly with purpose.  Then he says softly, “I would like an emotional heimlich.”

The hug is short, but Lex can feel the tension slowly seep out of Damien’s body.  As Damien steps away, he gets serious, “Luthor, I will be the one that tells Father that I have compromised our family’s secrets.”  He then looks over at Harley, and his words get soft, “She’s my responsibility.”

---

Batman had taken the news silently, and he didn’t say a word afterwards.  However, when Harley woke up from her surgery, Batman was there to greet her.  And with sure hands, Batman removes his mask so he could properly thank her for protecting his son.

---

“Harley, if you are unable to sit still, I am afraid I will have to stop.”

Harley gives a sheepish grin, “Sorry Lutha’!  I just can't stop!  This song’s gotta be my favorite!”

Lex puts the lid back on the nail polish and motions Harley to get up. With that, she gets to her feet and starts dancing, though her moves are stiff and awkward as she tries not to move her injured back too much.  As Lex watches, he smirks, “You are dating a eco-terrorist, and Toxic Love from Fern Gully is your favorite song?”

Harley stops and thinks about it, before shrugging, “What can I say?  There’s just a little something something about Tim Curry thats gotta gets your hips a movin’!”

---

Lex is asleep when he feels Bruce get into bed.  In the dark, he can hear Bruce shuffle around the sheets in search of him.  Reaching out in Bruce's general direction, Lex ends up pressing a cold hand against Bruce’s bare neck.  Bruce hisses in shock at the cold, before whispering into the dark, “You are evil.”  

Two hands then latch onto Lex’s hip, pulling him across the bed towards Bruce.  Using Bruce’s neck as a guide in the dark, Lex leans forward in search of Bruce’s lips.  After a few attempts, their lips meet in greeting.  But after a few seconds of kissing, Lex pulls back.  “Bruce, are you missing your first premolar?”

Lex can hear the smile on Bruce’s words, “I thought you weren’t a dentist?”

Blindingly swatting at Bruce, Lex retorts, “After having to remind everyone so often, I may have considered it.  Merely for my sanity's sake.”  Lex ends up silencing Bruce’s laughter by kissing him.

---

Lex is taking inventory of the medbay when Steph walks up.  She exclaims loudly, “Lex, it’s shark week!”  

With a comforting look, Lex says, “I see.”  With that, he starts pulling supplies out.  Confused, Steph watches in interest.  Lex soon hands over a blanket, a stack of hot pads, multiple pain relievers and a small bag of chocolate covered coffee beans. 

With a frown, Steph accepts the pile, “Oh, well, what?”

Lex looks at her equally confused, before a look of realization crosses his face, “Ah. Apologies, Mercy calls her menstrual cycle shark week.”

This causes Steph to stutter out a laugh, “Wait, Seriously?!”

Lex smirks, “Yes, she says it's a week of blood, terror and tears.”  He motions to the pile, “I assume you don’t actually need these.”  

Blushing, Steph shakes her head, “What, yeah, no. Thanks though.”  Lex takes the pile back, however Steph swipes the bag of chocolate before he moves away.  She grins, “So, it’s actually tv show shark week.  We always watch it, and we want you there.”

Putting the items away, Lex smiles, “That definitely sounds more enjoyable.”

---

Tim corners Lex in the kitchen.  “There’s chocolate covered Kunoa beans?!”

---

Lex is reviewing their itinerary for the ‘business’ trip to Kunoa when Jason runs into his office.  He bolts around Lex’s desk, and crotches down.  Unphased, Lex asks, “Are you hiding from someone?”

Jason grins, “Yeah, an old man with a janky hip.”  He then silently motions for Lex to be quiet.  

Not two seconds later, Dick storms into the room, his once black hair dyed a splotchy gray.  He asks in a clipped voice, “Have you seen Jason?”

Trying not to smirk at the obvious prank, Lex asks innocently, “Why, is he injured?”

Dick glares as he storms out, “No, but he’s going to be!”

---

Walking by, Lex spots Bruce in the ballroom, inspecting newly placed streamers on the walls.  Curious about what the decorations are for, Lex enters to join him.  Without even looking at Lex, Bruce starts talking, “I just realized something.”  

Lex hums, “What have you realized?”

Bruce looks at Lex from the corner of his eye, “The night that we started trying, you said that you didn’t need someone to make you happy.”  Bruce then turns and looks at Lex, “I have realized that right now,  at this moment in my life, I am happy.”  He reaches out and gently grabs both of Lex’s hands in his.  As he looks Lex in his eyes, Bruce says warmly, “And while I don’t need you here to be happy, I’m happy you are here.”  He leans in and kisses Lex on the lips, “I’ve been happier with you here.”  

Lex smiles into the kiss, then asks, “So what do you propose we do about it?”

Bruce gives a mischievous grin, “I'm proposing…”

At the silence, Lex gives a curious tilt of his head, “That's it?  You're proposing...?”  As the word registers, Lex freezes.  In a daze, his words come out confused and awed, “You're proposing.”

Bruce squeezes his hands gently, “Yes.”

With a frown, Lex analyzes the situation.  “We’ve barely been dating.”  

With a smirk, Bruce challenges lightly, “Is that a problem?”

Lex replies bluntly, “Undecided.”  The thing is, Lex has already decided.  However, as he lets the idea really sink in, he says with mock disappointment, “What if I expected more wooing from Brucie Wayne?”

And Bruce can see that Lex has already decided.  With a grin, he gently tugs Lex to him, looping his arms around Lex’s waist.  “I assure you, Brucie Wayne has been trying to court you for years.”

Lex gives Bruce a dull glare, “Obnoxious flirting does not a courtship make.”

With a tilt of his head, Bruce smirks, “I don’t know about that.  No one has gotten more of Brucie’s attention than you.”

A challenging spark appears in Lex’s eye.  His tone is knowing as he replies, “With that logic, it sounds like Batman has been courting me as well, since we’ve been fighting for as long as Brucie has been flirting with me.” 

With a hum, Bruce counters, “Well, if you want to consider both methods are part of my courtship, don’t think for a second I’m not counting your ‘what do you need’ questions your own way of courtship.  My dear Westley.”

Conceding the point, Lex bows his head with a smirk, “As you wish.”  Then sobering up and changing the subject, Lex states bluntly, “When Metropolis is rebuilt, I will have to move back.”

Bruce nods in acceptance, but then states, “You have been in Metropolis almost every other day for the past three months.  We’ve made this work just fine.”  

Without missing a beat, Lex moves onto his next biggest concern, “And the monopoly on the two biggest companies in the world doesn’t concern you at all?”

At that Bruce grins a mischievous grin, “It’s not my company anymore.”  This causes Lex to blink in surprise.  Bruce motions at the decorations and continues, “Tonight is a Wayne Enterprise party.  A party where I will be officially handing it all over to Dick.”  Bruce leans in and kisses Lex, “So, what do you say?”

Lex tries to sound serious, yet a little bit of hopeless mirth shines in his voice, “This all just sounds like disaster.” 

Bruce hums in agreement but refutes, “I think we are both very good at handling disasters.”  And with a knowing tone, “And you haven’t said no.”

With a raised eyebrow, Lex challenges, “And what if I said that you don’t know me at all?”

Unperturbed, Bruce answers, “I know enough.”  Bruce grabs one of Lex’s hands and gently starts swaying to a silent song. He then starts listing things off, one right after another in a slow, warm voice.

“I know you are a good kisser.  I know how you take your coffee.  I know you look good in my shirts and what you are allergic to.   I know you despise your father and hate your last name.  I know you love Thai food.  I know you love running your fingers through my hair.

"I know you sometimes regret things.    I know you can take a million compliments on things you do, but you can’t take a compliment when it's actually about you.  I know that you like to defend people.  I know that you love being intimidating.  I know that so many people have pushed you away that you are terrified when someone pulls you in.

“I know you use your cold hands like a weapon.  I know that you are a nerd.  I know you wish you could be a better father.  I know that you trust me.  I know you want to change the world. I know that you can take a joke and that you love messing with our PR people.  I know you want to believe in love.  I know you have a good singing voice.  I know you are patient with me and our kids, even when, especially when we are your patients.”

At the end of the list, Bruce leans in and whispers earnestly, “I know that you make me happier.”

In awe at the declaration, Lex can only question, “And what if I said I didn’t know who you are?”

Bruce snorts, his words full of mirth, “I doubt that.”  He pauses intentionally to let his next words sink in, “You know Brucie Wayne is a man that wants to love life, have a good time, and spend it in good company.  And he picked you.

"You know Bruce the Business Man wants to have things run smoothly and wants to make sound choices.  And he chose you. 

"You know Batman wants to protect the weak and wronged.  And he trusted you.  

"You know Bruce The Parent wants to nurture people and show that they belong.  And he loves you.”  

With reverence, Bruce promises, “You know me.  You know me better than anyone I know.”

Unable to stop himself from smiling, Lex asks, “Do I?”

Nodding, Bruce confirms, “Yes you do.” 

Once again, Lex challenges him, “Prove it.”

Bruce kisses him again, then in the same calm voice from before, he starts to list all the proof he had gathered.

“You know I’m a good kisser.  You know how I take my coffee.  You know I will give the shirt off my back to help you.  You know that I worry about you.  You know that I hate your father.  You know that I hate my last name.  You know I have a sweet tooth.  You know I love when you run your fingers through my hair. 

"You know that I regret so many things.  You know I love to compliment you. You know that I think we all need to be defended some times.  You know that I love when you are intimidating. You know that I got tired of pushing you away, so I decided to pull you in instead.

"You know that I think your cold hands are a blessing and a curse.  You know that I love that we can be nerds together.  You know that I wish I could be a better father.  You know that I trust you too.  You know that I want to change the world with you. 

"You know that I love your deadpan humor and that I love messing with our PR people.  You know that I believe in love.  You know I want to hear your voice for the rest of my life.  You know that when I refuse to listen to anyone, I still listen to you.  You know that I want to make you happier.”

With everything laid bare, Bruce says confidently, “You know I love you.”

Just as confident, Lex whispers, “I know.”

This kiss is just as light as the others, but it feels important.  The kiss feels like an answer.

As they pull away, Bruce asks, “So, what do you say?  Doctor Alexander Wayne has a nice ring to it.”

That causes Lex to laugh. With a fond shake of his head, he says, “If I’m taking your last name, I get to plan the wedding.”

Bruce’s laughter echoes through the ballroom.

“I am looking forward to it.”

Notes:

EEEEEeeeee! I've had that last bit written out foreva! I'd read it to myself at night when I needed a good bedtime story! I'm so happy I finally get to share it with y'all! Let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 23: The Unconventional

Summary:

Planning and trips do mix?

The party went as expected.  On a stage in front of everyone, Brucie Wayne handed the title of CEO over to Richie Wayne.  With a handshake and a hug, Bruce told Dick and the world how proud he was to have such a wonderful son and successor.  Dick then announced Brucie as Wayne Enterprises’ newest board member and brand ambassador.  Afterwards Bruce made his rounds, shaking hands with all the Wayne employees and accepting their well wishes.  Then with one final farewell, he retired for the evening.

As he enters the bedroom, he finds Lex sitting up in bed awake, working on his laptop.  As Bruce gently shuts the bedroom door, he speaks softly, “You’re up late.”

Looking up from his work, Lex raises an eyebrow.  His teasing tone matches Bruce’s, “You’re going to bed early.”

Bruce smirks, “Touche.”  Taking off his tie, Bruce nods towards the laptop knowingly, “Already planning the wedding?”  Lex only hums in reply as he turns his focus back to his screen.  Bruce hangs up his jacket with a chuckle, “Most people would wait a few days, take in the moment.”

Lex tuts, “We are not, and have never been, most people.”

Bruce heads to the restroom to get ready for bed.  When he comes out, Lex asks with a bored tone, “Bruce, how do you plan to invite the Justice League?”

Pausing midway from pulling the covers up, Bruce asks curiously, “Plan to?”

Lex sighed, “Bruce, they are your longest and dearest friends.  I am not disillusioned enough to think they would not be invited.”

“But you hate them.”, Bruce says as he scooches across the bed so that he’s sitting next to Lex.  He wraps his arms around Lex’s waist, setting his chin on Lex’s shoulder.  From this vantage, Bruce finds that Lex is not in fact planning a wedding, only cleaning up his next month’s schedule.

In the middle of rescheduling a meeting, Lex states nonchalantly, “...My hatred for them has waned over the years.  I will admit that some of my assessments were inaccurate.”  

Watching Lex type in a reminder to send the Flash the latest Livefire findings, Bruce points it out with mirth, “Barry does that to people.” 

Lex gives a small nod, “He has his merits.  So, yes, I am curious on how you’d planned to invite them.”

Whispering into Lex’s shoulder, Bruce confesses, “I.. I didn’t plan on inviting them.”

This causes Lex to turn and look at him, confusion on his face, “Why not?”

With a shrug, Bruce answers bluntly, “Because they don’t know me.”  He pauses then continues a little softer, “They don’t know us.  They won’t be seeing us getting married.  They’ll be seeing Batman marry their arch-enemy Luthor.  They will see Brucie Wayne marrying the business tycoon Lex Luthor.”   

Bruce's voice fills with conviction as he continues, “I don’t want that.  Our wedding should be cherished, not tarnished with the awkwardness of strangers watching two enemies get married.”

Lex gives him a fondly confused look “I don’t expect it to be.”  Seeing Bruce’s own confusion, Lex explains, “Bruce, we aren’t getting married tomorrow.  Or next month.  You have time.  You can give the Justice League the chance to get to know you.”

In an attempt to drop the conversation, Bruce looks away as he says, “I gave them the chance.”

Bruce feels Lex’s sigh on his cheek. Lex’s knowing words cause him to frown, “Did you really give them a chance, or were you only testing them?”  Bruce’s frown deepens as Lex continues, “And, as your dearest friends, did they recognize that it was a test?”  

Lex slowly turns Bruce’s head so he can look him in the eyes earnestly, “Not a single one had taken your offer, but I doubt it was out of non-interest.  I’d expect it was out of respect, fear, and obligation.  I bet they would be interested in knowing you.”  With that, Lex turns back to his computer, though he says offhandedly, “I’m sure you won’t be the only one disappointed if you didn’t invite them to the wedding.”

Releasing a deep breath, Bruce concedes.  He pulls Lex closer to him and puts his chin back on Lex’s shoulder as he sighs, “And how would you suggest I do that?”

With an indifferent tone, Lex states, “First, you should let them get to know you the way I did.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow as he looks at Lex sideways.  Tilting his head, Lex smirks back, “I assume that if you come out to them the same as before, you will get the same results.  However, I expect better results if they were to discover you were Batman on their own.”

Bruce hums in consideration.  Taking that as a go-ahead, Lex continues, “The only reason I learned you were Batman was because I was constantly put in situations with Brucie Wayne.  Only through constant exposure did I get to see the man behind the mask.”  

Bruce frowns, but is unable to keep the humor from his voice, “You want them to deal with Brucie Wayne?  Are you sure you’re still not evil?”

Lex gives him a wicked grin, “Misery does love company.”

Sharing a similar grin, Bruce then says seriously, “If millionaire Brucie Wayne takes an interest in any of them outside of costume, they will get suspicious.”

Lex nods solemnly, “Agreed.  That’s why we need them to come to us.”

Bruce pauses with a look of surprise, “Us?”

That same wicked smile is back, “Yes, us.  If you think I’m going to miss this show, you are poorly mistaken.”

Shaking his head fondly, Bruce chuckles, “So, my dear mastermind, what did you have in mind?”

With a thoughtful look, Lex offers, “Well, I have been thinking of something a little ...unconventional.”

Bruce hums, “I’m listening.”

Before Lex can answer, Bruce’s League communicator goes off.

Pulling the covers off with a sigh, Bruce tells Lex, “Hold that thought.”

Lex ends up holding that thought for two weeks.

---

It isn’t an alien invasion, though it sure looked like one. The invasion from last year turned out to have been a rogue group of aliens from a distant planet on the outskirts of the universe.  When the planet’s leaders heard about their rogue children’s attempt at invasion, they sent a fleet to Earth to apologize.  A fleet with a full armada.  Of course that many ships looked like an invasion itself, so the first few days everyone was on edge until the full situation was translated and explained on both sides.

After the confusion, it was found that the alien planet had sent the armada fleet full of supplies to help rebuild the destruction that the original invasion had caused.  However, after a year most of the damage had already been repaired.  That was hard to explain to the new aliens since the location of past invasion, Metropolis, was now recovering with the new, unrelated destruction.  The aliens had instantly assumed that the earthquake damages were their children’s doing, and were horrified.  They demanded that they were given permission to repair all the damages with their advanced technology.  

Even after the League was able to explain that the destruction was unrelated, the aliens were then concerned about not being able to show their good faith via material goods and assistance.  Unable to get the aliens to leave without accepting their good will, a peace treaty was written up. With gritted teeth, Batman agreed to let the aliens rebuild Metropolis with their advanced technology.

But Batman is paranoid.  Batman refuses to let his guard down the entire time the aliens are in Earth’s orbit.  Two weeks of constantly monitoring their ships, and scanning their tech and studying the aliens' body and verbal language.  Two weeks in the watchtower making sure that this wasn’t just another invasion waiting to happen.  That these aliens were actually just trying to help.

So it is the first day of April when the last ship leaves, allowing Bruce to heave a sigh of relief.  Unfortunately, he is barely planetside before Dick is ordering him around.

“Come on, brand ambassador, you have an event you need to get to.  You can sleep on the plane.”

And sleep he does.  Bruce doesn’t even notice the plane taking off.  It’s only the rough landing that shakes him from his rest.  Though he only got a few hours of rest, Bruce feels better than he had the past week.  So when he walks down the jet steps, he beams when he sees Lex standing next to the limousine.

When Bruce gets near him, he gives Lex a kiss before pulling him into a hug.  In the embrace, he grumbles fondly into Lex’s neck, “I may have missed you.” 

Lex laughs as he pulls away.  He gives Bruce a look over and comments, “I thought you would be more tired.” 

Bruce sighs a deep, anguished sigh, “That’s my secret, I’m always tired.”  With a chuckle, Lex ushers Bruce into the limo.  

Falling into the seat, Bruce slouches to his side.  The moment Lex is sitting, Bruce continues to sink sideways until his head lands gently into Lex’s lap.  As the limo starts to move, Lex cards his fingers through Bruce’s hair.  With another deep sigh, Bruce sinks into the car cushions.  However, as he spots a billboard outside the window, he frowns as he realizes he doesn’t actually know where he is.

He looks up at Lex quizzically, “Lex, where are we?”

Lex looks out the window.  His face is blank, and his words sound like he’s trying hard to be nonchalant, “Somewhere unconventional…”

Feeling like his long week just got longer, Bruce sighs, “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Lex’s words are oddly truthful, “Probably not.”  He finally looks down to Bruce, “We haven’t had the time to talk about it.  Unfortunately, the timing was too ideal to pass up.”

Seeing the curiosity on Bruce’s face, Lex continues, “When you proposed, you made it clear that I wasn’t just marrying you, I was marrying all your personas.  Unfortunately, some of those personas have expectations attached to them.”  Bruce frowns in concern, but Lex runs his fingers through his hair again in a soothing manner as he talks.  “Brucie Wayne is a man of glitz and glamour.  An over-the-top man that is big and bold in everything he does.    And one can not be expected to marry Brucie Wayne without it getting the attention of the world.”

Bruce cringes at the bitter truth of the matter.  Lex rubs a thumb over Bruce’s furrowed brow as he continues, “I know that’s not the wedding neither of us really want.  But we can’t ignore our fame nor the attention our wedding would get either.  So, for such a bold, brazen persona, I believe Brucie should have his own wedding.”

Bruce blinks in surprise, then sighs as he realizes where they are.  As he sinks further into the seat, he gives Lex a hopeless look, “You want us to elope.”

Lex holds up a finger in correction, “I want Brucie Wayne and tycoon Lex Luthor to elope.  We shall have our wedding later, when we get the rest of your little League to agree.”

At those words, Bruce perks up in interest.  He points a finger at Lex, giving him a suspicious smirk, “This is part of your plan.”

Sharing the smirk, Lex nods, “With the League benefactor marrying me on such a whimsical impulse, the League would be fools not to investigate us.  Extensively.”

Bruce frowns, “And you think that would be enough to get their attention?”  However, before Lex can answer, the limo comes to a stop.  As Bruce sees where they are, he frowns.  Looks at the building that looks like a pure replica of the Hall of Justice, Bruce can’t stop his head from shaking in disbelief.  The building’s bold white arch is accented by big, gold letters that read The Chapel of Justice.  Bruce turns his head to give Lex a disappointing look.

Giving an evil grin, Lex replies, “We are making a statement Bruce.  And yes, I do think it will be more than enough to get their attention.”  When Bruce stays silent, Lex gently nudges him, his words soft, “What are you thinking?”

Bruce frowns in consideration, “Brucie Wayne marrying his business rival in Las Vegas on April Fools at the Chapel of Justice.  That’s him alright.”  Then he asks objectively, “You called the paparazzi?”

Lex nods, “They’ll be here in an hour.”

Bruce tilts his head towards the Chapel, “They have League impersonators?”  At Lex’s smirk, Bruce frowns as he asks, “They any good?”

Lex’s smirk grows, “Not at all.  You’ll love them.”

Frowning but moving on, Bruce asks seriously, “Are you going to take my last name?”

Lex’s smirk turns into a shark’s grin, “After Brucie just got named the Wayne brand ambassador?  You at least get a hyphen.”

Bruce then thinks.  Really thinks about everything.  From the gaudy chapel to the ironically horrible date, to the cheesy photos that are sure to come after, everything screams Brucie Wayne.  And while Bruce hates it.  Hates everything about it, he knows that this is the type of gaudy extravagance that the public will eat up.  The tabloid schmooze that is expected from Brucie Wayne.  But by doing this horrible cheesy, short-notice elope, their wedding, their real wedding will be untouched by the invasive paparazzi and greedy gossip hounds.  

Returning to Lex’s question, Bruce admits fondly with a shake of his head, “You have out Brucie’d Brucie Wayne.”

Taking it for the weird compliment that it was, Lex offers his hand as he asks humorously, “Brucie Wayne, will you marry me?”

Bruce stops and looks at Lex.  Seeing this suave, sophisticated man surrounded by the blazing, flashing lights of Vegas makes Bruce smile sadly.  That this man was willing to do this horridly flashy wedding not just for Bruce, but because of one of Bruce’s persona.  Yet another example that this dastardly wonderful man is willing to do anything that Bruce needs makes Bruce want to marry him, no matter the venue or attention.  Bruce grabs the offered hand and tugs Lex towards him.  He pulls Lex into a kiss. As he pulls back, he whispers, “I’d be a fool not to.”

Lex asks in a softer voice as he stares earnestly at Bruce, “Bruce Wayne, will you do me the honors of marrying me twice?”

Chasing the first kiss, Bruce speaks earnestly against Lex’s lips, “As many times as is needed.”

Notes:

So, we thinking Lex Wayne-Luthor or Lex Luthor-Wayne? Guess we will find out next chapter! And I can't wait for the League chapters! My gosh, golly gee willigers!

Sorry this chapter is so short. These staying up til 5am has finally caught up to me and I had to break this chapter up. Me needs me sleeps. Good gods, I hope these chapters are good. I'm too much of a zombie to process what I'm thinking or writing anymore. Brain go brrrr.

Next chapter will have the chapel part of this fun impromptu wedding! I'm so excited.

Chapter 24: The Fake Wedding

Summary:

Imposters and fake weddings do mix!

As Bruce and Lex walk into the lobby of the Chapel of Justice, they are greeted by a group of Justice League impersonators.  Lex was right.  They aren’t that good.  The costumes are actually all very good in both quality and fit, however, some of the impersonators don’t match the body type of their hero, and some don’t even have the right hair color.  

But Lex was right.  Bruce does love them. 

Bruce gazes across the grinning faces of his costumed family and he can’t stop himself from smiling in kind.  With a roguish grin, Dick presents his Superman costume in a flourish, “Surprised? Like we’d miss the shenanigans!”  

Bruce chuckles as he inspects all his children’s costumes.  Even though he lacks Superman’s bulk, Dick pulls off the Superman pose with the gelled hair and a confident grin. Next to Dick, Jason is dressed as Aquaman. Though he did nothing to his hair, Jason’s body language and carefree grin easily gives off the vibe that is all Arthur Curry.  He poses with his trident, resting his elbow on Dick’s shoulder.  

While Cassandra’s Wonder Woman costume fits her perfectly, the shield looks to be made the exact size of Diana’s which makes Cassandra look small in comparison.  As she presents the shield to Bruce, Cass gives him a bright smile that would rival Diana’s own.  

Steph looks so much like the Black Canary that she could have been a real impersonator.  However, she isn’t wearing the black mask so Bruce can see the mischievous delight in her eyes as she poses with her hands on her hips.

Tim and Damien are also not wearing their counterparts’ masks. However it’s easy to identify Tim’s costume as the Flash with it’s bright red leather and yellow lightning bolts.  He seems to carry the Flash’s awkwardness as it looks like he is unsure how to pose.  He ends up shrugging and just doing the traditional run pose.  Damien, on the other hand, refuses to pose in his green and black costume.  He crosses his arms in bored defiance which emphasizes the Green Lantern symbol across his chest.  

Last in the line is Barbara.  She is standing on her own two feet, a faint glow of her LiveLimbs glowing through her fishnet stockings.  She takes her top hat off to give a bow and a wink, an exact mimicry of Zatanna’s stage flourish.  

To the side of the group is Alfred and Mercy.  Mercy is dressed up as Hawkgirl with a full set of big, fake wings, though she isn’t wearing the mask.  The only one without a costume, Alfred is standing next to her in his normal pose, a small smirk on his face.

Bruce can't seem to stop his laughter as he gaze upon them all, though there's an edge of raw emotion laced in it.  Confusion?  Heartache?  Having his entire family here dressed up in costumes of his friends hits Bruce harder than he had expected.  It is starting to feel like this wedding is more than just an elope.  As the laugh tampers to a chuckle, Bruce looks over to Lex for an answer to the questions in his mind.  

Lex just smirks with a shrug, “Even chapel weddings need to have witnesses.  How could I possibly choose just two.”

Jason chuckles as he claps Lex on the shoulder, “Damn straight!”  He then turns to Bruce and pulls him into a hug.  As they hug, Jason whispers into Bruce’s ear, “Good luck with him, old man.”  Bruce hugs him tightly, letting his confusion drain away as he accepts his son's comfort.

And the well wishes commence as all his kids come to give him hugs; each one giving words of encouragement and in some cases stilted congratulations.  The last to hug him, Alfred holds Bruce tightly and says with warmth, “I am so proud and happy for you, Bruce.”

As he pulls away, Bruce tries to keep the emotions off his face as he gives an awkward confession, “This isn’t the real wedding.”

Alfred just smirks as he pats Bruce’s arm, “Then I will just have to say it twice.”

With a sniff and a shake of his head, Bruce steps back.  As he takes in the gathered group again, he frowns.  Looking at Dick, Bruce asks suspiciously, “If you are all here, who’s watching Gotham tonight?”

It is Damien that admits stiffly, “Harley and Pamela have agreed to watch in our stead.”

At Bruce’s surprise and concerned face, Jason claps him on the shoulder with a chuckle, “Don’t worry, Roy and Oliver agreed to keep an eye on them.”

Hearing Oliver’s name, Bruce looks at the group, “Speaking of him, I don’t see a Green Arrow costume.  He’s sure to be disappointed.”

Tim frowns, “Actually, he should be here by now.”

Confused, Bruce asks, “Oliver?”

Before Tim can answer, there is a puff of misplaced air, and suddenly there are two more people in the room.  Martha Kent is set down by a green leather clad Conner.  The only one wearing a mask, Conner’s Green Arrow mask and hood can’t hide his timid smile as he waves.  As Lex goes to hug Conner, Martha walks up to Bruce and pulls him into an embrace.  With a laugh, she says, “Congrats my dear.”  She steps away and shakes her head fondly as she swats at Bruce’s arm, “You rich people get to have all the fun.  Fake costume weddings, my goodness.  I sure missed out, that’s for sure!”

Bruce grins, “You could have dressed up.”

A twinkle of mischief enters her eye as Martha replies, “I am dressed up.”  As Bruce looks at her nice but very normal clothes, he raises an eyebrow.  Martha just tuts goodheartedly, “I’m dressed up as the greatest hero there is.” With a flourish, she presents herself, “Me.”  At Bruce’s chuckle, Martha puts her hands on her hips in mock defense.  Her tone is full of fake disappointment, “I’ll have you know; I raised some of the most powerful men in the world.”

Lex comes up behind her and says earnestly, “A herculean task, I can attest to.”

Martha turns to him and smiles, “Darn right.”  She then pulls Lex into a hug as well. 

As they part, Lex says, “Martha, as I explained-.”

She cuts him off with a hand wave, “Yep, you’re recording the ceremony.  I’ll sit in the back with Alfred, don’t you worry.”

Bruce frowns, “We’re recording it?”

With a nod, Lex motions towards the interior doors leading towards the chapel’s center room, “Of course.  We will be leaking it later tonight.  I think the Justice League will enjoy the ceremony I have planned.”

With a glare, Bruce gives a dry chuckle and a sarcastic, “I’m sure.”

Lex just smirks, “Don’t worry, you won’t like it either.” 

Alfred steps up to Lex, “Are you not on a time schedule, sir?”

Lex looks at his watch and frowns.  “Indeed.  We will have to make it quick.”

With a nod to Alfred, Lex motions Bruce towards the doors, “Are you ready?”

Bruce takes a big sigh and stands up straighter.  And as he looks around at the smiling, encouraging faces of his family, he nods.  He looks at Lex with a look of conviction, “I’m always ready.”

Lex’s words are almost singsong, “Liar.”

Then, as Lex takes a breath, Bruce watches him stand up a little straighter, his face getting harder.  A dark, challenging look crosses Lex’s face as his entire persona changes, and Bruce remembers that he isn't marrying Lex today.  He’s marrying Luthor the Business man today.  Bruce loosens his posture, an easy smile coming to his face as he falls into Brucie Wayne.  With a flirtatious smirk, he loops an arm around Lex’s waist, “Let’s do this.”

As the doors to the interior chapel open, Bruce tries not to groan.  For standing at the altar is Batman.  Well, a Batman.  One with a poorly fitted rubber costume.  Through gritted teeth, Bruce hisses at Lex, “I hate you.”  He then, in good ol’ Brucie fashion, let’s go of Lex’s waist and runs forward, pointing at the impersonator.  “It’s Batman!”  He turns back to Lex with a look of mock shock and delight, “We are getting married by Batman?!”  

Soon the family files into the room and up to the altar, quickly getting into position.  The boys join Bruce on his side, while the girls all take Lex’s side.  Lex leans into the minister to whisper quietly; his hand motion indicating that he’s telling the minister to be quick.  With a confirmed nod, Lex then walks over to Bruce and firmly takes his hands.  With a tight grip and a smirk at Bruce, Lex motions to the Batman minister to start.

The fake Batman braces himself on his podium and then starts talking to the gathered party in a deep, gravely voice that is remarkably close to the real thing.  “Citizens of Earth.  Members of the Justice League.”  Keeping his eyes on Lex, Bruce fights an eye roll. Instead he grins his Brucie grin which Lex smirks at and squeezes his hand in consolation.  

However, the girls aren’t as contained, giggling at the opening.  In a wonderfully on-point impression, the minister just glares at them until they stop before he continues.  “We have been summoned here today on a matter of utmost importance.  For today, we discuss the binding union of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor.”  

The minister pauses, and his tone changes, “In our pursuit of justice, finding a partner that is compatible is invaluable.  Someone that knows and understands both your strengths and your weaknesses.  That will stand with you, back to back, against all the dangers of the world.  That partner will make you stronger than you will ever be alone.  These two members of your team stand before us today to announce that their search is over.”

Bruce wants to hate this speech, but as he looks at Lex, Bruce can feel his fake smile soften as he returns Lex’s hand squeeze. 

“But while they are now forging forward together, it does not mean they are alone.”  Fake Batman addresses the gathered guests,  “As their friends and family, you are their team.  You will be there to support these two as is required.  You all have been summoned here today to hold these two accountable for their commitment to each other.  For when these two come together, they will make you all whole.  A complete team, an unstoppable force.”

Bruce looks over to his family and sees each of them listening intently to the impersonator’s words.  With emotions of joy, happiness, and contentment on their faces, Bruce can see that each of them believe these words; that this moment will make their family complete.  

“Thus, their commitment is not to just themselves, but to you.  So, if there are any here that have concern about this dynamic change of your team, please state so now.”

There is only silence.

Taking that as the answer, the imposter turns to Bruce and Lex, “For the team to accept your commitment to each other, you will need to swear an oath to each other.”  

The minister's next words are no longer deep and gravely. His whole body language changes and his voice comes out high pitched and nerdy as he starts to quietly ramble nervously, “So, sorry to break character, but it’s the vow time, and I find that breaking the moment is good, so you don’t feel like you have to keep the tone.  Some people don’t think the vows they wrote match the mood I go for.  I mean, I’d feel awkward if Batman tells me to swear an oath, and my vow was all sappy.”  

At the amused looks Bruce and Lex give him, he stutters, “O-oh, and if you don’t have vows, you should just say what you feel, or whatever comes to mind…”  He fumbles before asking, “So, who’d like to go first?”  At the man's inquiry, Lex looks over to Bruce and inclines his head. 

The thing is, Bruce didn’t have any vows planned.  This wasn’t planned at all.  With a sigh, he thinks ‘just say what you feel’.  Just say what you feel, but as Brucie Wayne.  Letting go of Lex’s hands, Bruce takes a half step closer so he can grab the bottom corner of Lex’s tux jacket.  Fiddling with the corner almost nervously, he looks up into Lex’s eyes earnestly.

“I know who I am.”  He gives a self-deprecating smile that is a shadow of Brucie’s usual smiles as he lies, “I’m loud, brass, excitable.  I’m obnoxious and maybe a little crazy.”  He lets the smile smooth out as it grows in size as he confesses the real truth, “And I am madly in love with you.”  His eyes fall back to his fiddling hands as they rubs the lining of Lex’s jacket.  “And I don’t know, we just fit.  We work.”  

He slowly looks up but stops to stare at Lex’s pocket square.  “You’re just so opposite of me, I feel like I’ll never get bored of you.”  Bruce finally stares Lex in the eyes.  And while his words and tone is Brucie, he tries to convey the truth as he asks, “You just keep being you, and I’ll just be me, and we’ll make this work, yeah?”

Luthor gives a shark’s grin, but his eyes are kind as he starts to talk, “You are loud.  And brass. And far too obnoxious.”  He grabs Bruce’s fingers, pulling them away from his jacket.  Lacing his fingers together, he continues, “You are many things.  And I have never wanted anyone more in my life.”  Lex’s words fill with conviction, an edge of obsession creeping in as he tightens his grip on Bruce’s fingers.  “You are the last puzzle piece I needed to make my life, my life goals complete.”

His words then drip with need, want.  It carries with it promise and truth.  Words meant for Bruce, but also a statement to all that are listening.  To those that will be listening.

”You are what I need .”

And as Bruce looks into Lex’s eyes and sees the conviction and desire, Bruce believes him.  Without a doubt, Bruce believes that Lex Luthor has never wanted anything more in his life.  Mesmerized by the raw emotions, Bruce barely notices that he had wrapped a hand around Lex’s tie and was slowly pulling him close.  They are inches away from kissing when a soft cough breaks their attention.  They both look over to the minister, who is standing stiffly at the podium.  As the man clears his throat, a blush creeps out from below his Batman mask.  

The fake Batman voice is back, but it is rushed as he says quickly, “With those oaths to their union, if there are no objections to the preceding, I now pronounce you husband and husband.  You may now kiss your partner.”  Bruce grins as he turns back to Lex.  With a firm tug of the tie, he pulls Lex the rest of the way towards him.

When their lips meet, cheering starts around them as their family celebrates.  Bruce loops his arms around Lex’s neck, pulling him closer.  Lex returns the favor by wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist, making them flush.  They only come apart when a flash of a camera startles them.  As they look over, they see Tim holding up his camera with a grin.  The next flash blinds them, causing Lex to curse.

The moment broken, Bruce let’s go of Lex with a chuckle.  Everyone moves back to the lobby so that a secondary set of hugs and congratulations can be given freely.  Not long after, Martha and Conner give their goodbyes.  With the Kents gone, the rest of the family face the front doors with trepidation.  Lex grabs Bruce’s hand, and nods toward the door, “Time to tell the world.”

Bruce squeezes his hand and puts his Brucie smile back on.  Then, as a family and a team, the costume clad Wayne family steps outside into the flashes of a thousand cameras.  And in that moment, on the steps of the Chapel of Justice, the world finds out that Brucie Wayne and Lex Luthor had tied the knot.

 

Notes:

Part 2! Woohoo! I have loved this idea in my head for so long, so I hope it felt right and good to y'all!

Guess what happens next chapter?! This night ain't over! :D

Chapter 25: The Vows

Summary:

Public announcements and private promises do mix!

Notes:

***THIS IS THE SEX SCENE***
If this is not the chapter you are looking for, please move along.
If this IS the chapter you are looking for, please be kind. This is my first Sexy Times chapter I've ever written, so I'm... I'm a glass case of emotions! AhhhEhhhOhhh?!
I hope you enjoy?

---

In the flashing lights of Vegas and in front of the flashing cameras of the paparazzi, Bruce knows that Lex’s plan to elope was a power play; one that allowed them to control exactly when and where the paparazzi learn about their wedding.  Bruce looks down at all the reporters and news crew that swarm the steps of the chapel and knows that every reporter had come here to get the scoop on the biggest story of the year.  Bruce just gives them an easy smile.  Looping his arms around Lex’s waist, Bruce pulls Lex into a kiss for the world to see.  

Unlike the other times they’ve been in public and hugged, and that one time kissed, this time Lex let’s Bruce make a show of it.  Lex wraps his arms around Bruce’s shoulders and deepens the kiss, causing the crowd to erupt in excitement and camera flashes.  Then, as they pull apart, Bruce gives the crowd a charlatan grin and announces, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce my husband, Alexander Luthor-Wayne.”

The two are instantly bombarded with questions of whens and whys.  With an arm wrapped around each other’s waists, the two answer easily, laidback in the knowledge that they have the reporters exactly where they want them.   

“Why yes, we do love each other!”

“What can I say?  I’m an impulsive man.  But that’s why you love me, right Lexie?”

“Why keep our relationship a secret?  Cause you all were enjoying the speculation too much!  Didn't want to ruin your fun!”

“Are you doubting my proclamations of love?  Lex, we may have to give them more proof.”

After the sea of questions and a few impromptu make out sessions for the cameras, the two finally are able to make it through the reporters and depart.  And with their departure, the story of their marriage spreads across the world like quickfire.  Just as they planned.

---

They barely shut the door of the honeymoon suite behind them before Bruce crowds Lex up against the door, pushing them flush as he kisses him.  And in this moment, Bruce lets Brucie Wayne fall away.  With it, all the tension from the past two weeks slowly seeps away.  In kind, Bruce feels Lex’s muscles loosen as he lets go of his own persona.  The kiss is broken, but they still stay close, holding each other in their arms as they slowly relax.

So focused on the moment, Bruce doesn’t notice the ringing.  However, Lex does and without breaking their hug, digs his hand into Bruce’s pocket.  He pulls the Justice League communicator out and vaguely throws it in the direction of the couch.  Feeling what Lex was doing, Bruce smirks as he intercepts the throw, snatching the communicator out of the air.  Bruce shakes the comm at Lex fondly, “You know this is about us.”

Lex wraps his hand around the comm and smirks, “I have made the assumption that you would be too emotionally compromised to handle the situation correctly.  Thus, I have asked Richard to take care of it.”

Bruce looks between Lex and the comm with consideration, then with a nod, he returns the communicator to its flighted path heading towards the couch. Hearing its soft landing, Bruce returns his hand to Lex’s hip and asks knowingly, “Did Dick help you plan all of this?”  

Lex smirks as he pushes his hands into Bruce's back pockets, pulling their hips flush, “Indeed, Richard’s assistance was essential.”

Resting his forehead against Lex’s, Bruce hums as he thinks the night over, “You know, besides the fact that it was dreadful, you put together a wonderful wedding.”  

One of Lex’s hands starts to untuck Bruce’s shirt so it can play with the flesh below.  Lex smiles with mock acceptance, “Oh?  If you were satisfied with it, we could just bypass the second wedding.”

Bruce tightens his grip on Lex’s hips before his hands reach for Lex’s belt, “Oh no you don’t.  I was promised two weddings.  Two weddings I shall have.”  With Lex’s belt unbuckled, Bruce slowly pulls it out of the loops as he smirks, “If only so I have time to work on my vows.”  

Lex grabs Bruce’s tie and pulls him in for a quick peck before he starts to untie the knot, “What?  You think you can do better than Brucie’s?”

With the belt abandoned on the floor, Bruce returns the favor by removing Lex’s tie.  As he looks Lex in the eyes, Bruce asks curiously, “Don’t you think you deserve more than the words of a bumbling fool?”

Working on Bruce’s shirt buttons, Lex looks at him and answers truthfully, “No.”  Seeing Bruce’s confused, concerned look, Lex just smiles, “I never needed pageantry and heartfelt gestures.”  With the last button free, Lex splays his hands across Bruce’s chest as he continues, “Bruce, we build our lives around silver tongue lies and fake masks, telling lies and fake promises.  I take so little value in words.”

Seeing Bruce take in his words, Lex wraps his arms around Bruce’s neck as he grins, “Bruce, we are men of action.”  Pushing his body flush against Bruce’s, Lex says coyly, “If you want me to believe your vows, you will need to show me their worth.”  

Grinning at the challenge, Bruce dives in to claim Lex’s lips in a kiss. Moving his hands from Lex’s hips to his thighs, Bruce bends down slightly so he can cup the back of Lex’s knees.  With Lex’s arms already around his neck, it takes little to pick up Lex securely.  At the movement, Lex wraps his legs around Bruce’s hips, deepening the kiss from his new, higher position in Bruce’s arms.  With Lex secure in his arms Bruce moves them towards the bed.

When they get to the bed, Bruce sits Lex down at the foot of the bed and pulls away.  When Lex tries to chase his mouth, Bruce chuckles.  Lex gives him an unamused look before he scooches to lay back across the bed.  As he leans on his elbows, he asks nonchalantly, “So, Bruce.  Let me hear your vows.”

Straddling Lex’s hips, Bruce leans in to kiss him.  Gently pushing the man into the bed cushion, Bruce starts unbuttoning Lex’s shirt.  Leaving Lex’s lips alone, Bruce starts moving down Lex’s neck.  He leaves a trail of kisses down the alabaster skin as he states, “First, I vow to worship you.”  The words make Lex smirk as his hands curl into Bruce’s hair.  

With the last button undone, Bruce opens Lex’s shirt completely so he can continue his path down.  He places a kiss on Lex’s clavicle then he nips the protruding bone.  In retaliation for the sharp pain, Lex gives Bruce’s hair a tug, making a groan escape Bruce's lips.   Bruce can feel Lex’s chuckle reverberate through the chest under his lips.  He kisses the clavicle in apology.  

Bruce’s eyes rest on the scar that runs down Lex’s chest, the remnants of his heart surgeries.  Bruce places a light kiss at the start of the scar which causes Lex to start to sit up with a frown.  When Bruce locks eyes with Lex, he speaks softly, “I vow to love you even when you don't.”  Lex’s face twitches, but he slowly sinks back into the bed.  With permission to continue, Bruce slowly tracks kisses down the marred flesh.  

Feeling Lex tense from the unwanted attention, Bruce moves a hand down between Lex’s legs and rubs Lex's dick through his pants.  Feeling more than hearing Lex gasp, Bruce continues to fondle him as he slowly mouths his way down Lex’s chest.  By the time he hits Lex’s belly button, Lex is hard in his hand.  With deft hands, Bruce quickly undoes Lex’s zipper, freeing his erection.  

Looking at the protruding member, Lex gives Bruce a challenging look.  Sharing the same look, Bruce wraps his hand around the base of Lex’s dick, slowly rubbing his thumb on the underside.  Focusing on the teasing attention, the only warning Lex gets is a smirk and a cocky, “I vow to take care of you.”  Bruce then bends down and wraps his lips around the head of Lex’s dick, slowly swallowing his length.  

At the wet mouthing, Lex falls back against the bed with a moan, his hands threading back into Bruce’s hair.  With an effort to not push up into Bruce’s mouth, Lex instead rakes his nails against Bruce’s scalp.  The motion causes Bruce to groan around his mouthful, the vibrations doubling Lex’s pleasure.  As he groans in ecstasy, Lex has to force his hands out of Bruce’s hair.  He buries his hands into the comforter, gripping tightly as Bruce starts to suck.  

Gathering himself, Lex looks back up at Bruce and makes eye contact as Bruce bobs between his legs.  Losing himself in the moist grip Bruce has on him, Lex can feel his orgasm building.  One of Bruce’s hands moves to Lex’s balls, gently cupping them.  With Bruce blowing and fondling him, it doesn’t take long to bring Lex to the edge.  Lex opens his mouth to warn Bruce he’s close.  However, in that instant, Bruce lets go and sits back, his mouth comes away from Lex’s dick with a pop.  The breath Lex had taken escapes in a keen at the loss.  

Confused and frustrated, Lex looks up to find Bruce sitting back on his haunches watching with an evil grin.  Lex glares at Bruce, but the man just leans over Lex and smirks, “I vow to be a tease.”  Growling at Bruce, Lex uses a foot to push Bruce away.  Taking it as an order, Bruce gets off the bed, taking Lex’s pants with him.  Then, in slow, tantalizing motions, Bruce gives a show as he slowly strips himself of the rest of his clothes.

Figuring Bruce left him hard for a reason, Lex lays on his side and watches as Bruce loses his shirt and then his pants.  As Bruce’s dick springs free from his briefs, Lex watches as a drop of precum drips down from the slit.  Focused on watching the drop’s descent down Bruce’s full erection, Lex barely notices Bruce pull lube and condoms from the nightstand beside him.  

He does notice Bruce walking back towards the bed.  When Lex goes to grab Bruce’s dick to return the favor, Bruce bats his hand away with a smirk.  Bruce then gets back on the bed, moving Lex’s legs so he can sit between them.  In position, Bruce makes eye contact as he pours lube over his fingers.  As slick fingers start to circle Lex’s hole, Bruce promises, “I vow to ease your pain.”  The first finger plunges in.

With experience, Bruce is quick to loosen Lex up.  As he works, he peppers kisses down Lex’s open thighs, making Lex sigh. However, every time Bruce adds a finger, he nips at the white skin below his lips.  The distracting bites make the pale man curse in surprise, but they also make the added intrusions less noticeable.

By the third finger, Lex is aching, not in pain but in desire.  He had tried to grab himself to get the release he wants, but Bruce had swatted his hand away with a grin.  A tease indeed.  Right as Lex is about to reprimand Bruce, Bruce once again times his retreat perfectly.  He pulls his fingers out of Lex, making Lex whine.  

Lex takes a second to control his temper.  As he does, Bruce leans forward and grabs both of Lex’s hands, pulling him up in a sitting position.  Leaning in, Bruce gently kisses Lex’s frown away.  As they kiss, Bruce smiles as he slowly feels the wire-taut tension drain from Lex.  Bruce whisper’s against Lex’s lips as he pulls Lex’s hands into his lap, “I vow to share my desires with you.”

Lex huffs, but wraps a hand around Bruce’s erection, causing Bruce to sigh in satisfaction.  Give the dick a squeeze, Lex surges forward, kissing Bruce as he rubs him off.  As he plunges his tongue into Bruce’s mouth, Lex grabs the condom from Bruce’s hand and together they work putting it on Bruce’s weeping erection.  Once done, Lex lays back, pulling Bruce with him.  On his back, Lex positions himself so that Bruce’s dick is lined up with his hole.  

Bruce accepts the invitation.  In one aggressive push, Bruce bottoms out, filling Lex completely.  The harsh entrance curbs Lex’s arousal as the surprise and pain stuns him.  As white dots dance across his vision, Lex hears Bruce whispers apologies into his neck, leaving kisses in their wake. He feels Bruce gently fondle his dick, bringing it back to full erection.  

Lex takes a stuttered breath and wraps his arms around Bruce, though he intentionally claws the broad back as he does.  The pain causes Bruce to hiss, but Lex can feel the smirk Bruce presses against his neck.  Seeing that Lex is back with him, Bruce leans back, careful not to jostle where their hips are connected.  Lex is glaring at him for the rough misuse.  However, the glare is ruined by a blush that blooms across his cheeks when Lex is unable to stop the slight twitch of his hips as he unconsciously pushes down on Bruce’s dick.

With a smarmy grin, Bruce leans down and taunts, “I vow to surprise you.”  

Instead of a retorting remark, Lex just gives Bruce his own smarmy look.  Feeling Lex’s tight ass abruptly tighten around him, Bruce swallows his groan, holding himself stiff so that he doesn’t end up pounding into Lex before Lex is ready.  With a shaky breath, he bends down to kiss Lex.  Lex accepts the kiss; the two falling into a leisurely embrace. 

When he feels Lex relax around him, with a small, sure movement, Bruce pulls out a little, just to slide back in gently.  At Lex’s soft gasp, Bruce does it again, this time pulling out an inch more.  With each encouraging sound from Lex, Bruce builds up a cadence as he starts rocking back and forth, in and out of Lex.  When their rhythm gets too rough that they are unable to keep their lips together, Bruce grins and says, “I vow to make you work for it.”  

Wrapping his arms around Lex, he rolls them over until Lex is on top sitting in Bruce’s lap.  As Lex re-orientates himself, a mix of frustration then satisfaction crosses his face as he looks down at Bruce.  Seeing that he’s in charge, Lex starts to rise out of Bruce’s lap.  When Bruce’s tip is sitting right at the edge of his rim, Lex slowly lowers himself back on Bruce’s dick, causing them both to moan.  

 The pace is much slower with Lex taking the lead, but he finds great pleasure watching Bruce squirm under him.  As Lex slowly rises and falls, Bruce grips the blanket below him as he watches intently.  However, as Lex’s legs and core get tired, Bruce lets go of the blanket and sets his hands on Lex’s hips.   He pushes Lex up,  bracing him against Bruce's legs, effortless holding Lex in place suspended a few inches above Bruce’s lap.  With a smirk, Bruce grins, “I vow to share your burdens.”  Then, gently keeping Lex’s hips suspended midair, Bruce humps up into him.  

With all his weight being held up by Bruce, Lex groans at the raw show of strength, putting his hands on Bruce’s arms to brace himself and to feel the muscles bulging under the strain.  Then his groan turns into howl as this new angle allows Bruce to hit Lex’s prostate.  

As Lex blinks the stars from his eyes, he notices that Bruce had stopped moving below him. Lex looks down at him and sees Bruce grinning at him fondly.  With a tut, Lex bends down to kiss him.  However, with Bruce’s hands holding him still he’s only able to bend down halfway.  Seeing Lex’s intent, Bruce smiles, “I vow to always meet you halfway.” He rises the rest of the way with a sit-up and kisses Lex on the lips.  The kiss lasts just long enough for Bruce to turn the tables again, rolling them back over once more. 

Once again on top, Bruce takes control.  He tightens his grip on Lex’s hips and promises, “I vow to satisfy you.”  Bruce’s new pace is fast and hectic as he pounds into Lex again and again.  However, this time his aim is true as he hits Lex’s prostate again and again.  With each hit, Lex gasps Bruce’s name, his nails digging into Bruce’s thighs.  Feeling his release coming, Bruce grabs Lex’s dick between them, rubbing it in time with his pace.  With so much stimulation, Lex’s breath stutters as he feels his orgasm hit him, his release splattering across their chests.  With Bruce’s name on his lips, Lex feels himself tighten around Bruce; the tight clench pulling the other man over the edge with him, filling him.  

Bruce collapses forward, resting his forehead against Lex’s as he catches his breath.  Staring into Lex’s blissed out face, Bruce smiles as he cups Lex’s cheek.  He whispers earnestly, “I vow to cherish you.”  Lex smiles and pulls Bruce into a slow, languish kiss.

As the two come down from their high, Bruce slowly pulls out.  With a quick trip to the bathroom, he comes back with a washcloth.  After they are cleaned up, Bruce spoons up behind Lex and kisses his neck and shoulder.  And in the quiet of their wedding night, Bruce vows against the crown of Lex’s head, “I vow to love you.”  

 

Notes:

Tada? I think I did good, but I know I write fast paced with minimal descriptors, so um.. I hope you liked it?

And what's that? Two chapters in a row?! It's almost like Slade was self-conscious about this chapter to the point that she took a day off from work so she could have a follow up chapter as needed appeasement for herself and maybe others! What a crazy girl...

Chapter 26: The Meeting

Summary:

Concerns and conversations do mix!

Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor Eloped!

The Prince of Gotham Tied the Knot!

The Luthor-Waynes: Business Bullies turned Corporate Couple! 

As the headlines flash on the Justice League’s screen, the League stare at them in confusion, concern, and disinterest.  Barry is the first to speak in a confused squeak, “Why.. is this a problem?”

Everyone slowly turns to Superman, who had summoned this team meeting. Clark answers equally confused as to why Barry doesn’t see the issue, “There are many reasons this is a problem.”

Arthur snorts, “It’s two rich dudes that got married.  Just cause it’s Luthor, you are making it a big deal.” 

Clark raises his hand in defense, speaking slowly as if he’s thinking his words over carefully, ”I know this might seem a knee-jerk reaction, but there are plenty of things we need to take into consideration here.”  He pauses to make sure that he has everyone’s attention.  “First, can we agree that with Bruce Wayne as our benefactor, anything that could be considered important or life threatening to him should be our concern?”

Some people nod, however Batman scoffs, “Superman, are you saying money is a main factor for your concern about Wayne?”

Everyone freezes and stares, waiting to see how Superman would react to Batman.  The new Batman.

---

Everyone is still unsure about the new Batman.  When Batman had stated that he was training Nightwing as his replacement, there were many who were concerned that there was something life-threateningly wrong with Batman.  However, when they realised that Batman’s expectations for his replacement were aggressively high, they figured it would be years before they actually got to deal with the new Batman.  

Thus it was quite a shock when the new Batman started to show up to meetings.  It was very sporadic, with no rhyme or reason.  However, each time he showed up, it would leave the team misfooted, confused and out of sorts.  Where they expected the new Batman would try to act like the old one, the new one was more talkative, more laidback, and more quizzical to the point of confrontational.  

Since the Batmans acted nothing alike, the team couldn’t identify them as the same person.  Which made it hard to talk about them since they both went by the same name. Hal jokingly started calling the new Batman Batwing and it stuck; to the disappointment of Batman, and the indifference of Batwing.

Since Batwing’s visits were short and far in-between, the team was still trying to get a feel for the kid, and how to deal with him.  And he seemed to take great pleasure in keeping them on their toes.  He was especially critical when it came to things he considered old school, or outdated; even rules and procedures set up by Batman himself.  

So, when Superman had summoned this meeting and Batwing showed up, everyone was interested in how he would handle something as old school as the Luthor-Kent grudge.

---

Superman pauses at Batwing’s accusation, and in the same, thought out tone, answers, “No.  While Wayne is our benefactor, he is not just a money source, but a figurehead and representative to the Justice League.  His well-being is our well-being.”

Batwing thinks about Clark’s reply, then nods slowly, “Continue.”

With Batwing’s apparent approval, Clark continues, “Secondly,”  He pauses for a second before sighing, “Yes, it is because it is Luthor.  But, truthfully, has there ever been a time that Luthor has been a headline and it has not spelled trouble?”

Oliver opens his mouth, but Arthur answers, “The Sol Tides donations.”  

Oliver snaps his fingers and points at Arthur with a head nod.  He then says, “What about his Green Energy proclamation?”

Diana frowns, “Did he not threaten people?”

Waving his hand indifferently, Oliver shrugs, “Vaguely.  For the good of the earth.”

Barry sits up, but then deflates, “I’d say the Livefire stuff, but it’s not actually published yet.” He leans forward excitedly, “But trust me guys, that stuffs neat.”

Superman clears his throat to get everyone’s attention, “So there are exceptions, but the ratio is still a little low compared to all his deeds as a whole.”

Oliver sighs, “Fine.  Luthor’s evil.  Do you have more points to this?”

At Superman’s frown and delay, Hal answers, “How about a monopoly of power?”

Oliver snorts, “Sounds like something Luthor used to say about us.”  As everyone turns to look at him in shock, Oliver just raises his hands in defense, “Hey.  If we are going to be hypocritically, let’s just be open about it.”

Batwing speaks up, “Hypocrites aside, any other concerns you would like addressed?”

Superman sighs, “No.  My concern is that Luthor married Wayne for nefarious reasons.”

Batwing tuts, “And what is your reasoning?”

Frowning in confusion, Superman states, “Luthor is notorious for doing nefarious things?  Did you not hear his vows?”

As if he already knew it was going to be part of the topic, Batwing hits a button on his console and the video of the Luthor-Wayne wedding starts to play on the screen.  The League watches the two billionaires exchange vows.  When the wedding finishes, Superman points out, “The last puzzle piece needed to complete his life goals?  That is what concerns me greatly.”

Oliver shrugs, “So it's a little obsessive, definitely possessive, but so what?  I’ve heard more concerning vows.”

As he inspects the last image of the video, Hal frowns, “And what about the location?  And the impersonators?  Seems like a call out.”

On the screen next to the video, Batwing pulls up the images taken outside the Chapel of Justice.  

The team looks closely at the images and Oliver snorts, “You are just upset that the impersonator doesn’t look like you.”

Hal opens his mouth to retort, but he changes his course as he gets suspicious, “I’m surprised that you aren’t upset there isn’t a Green Arrow.”

Oliver smirks, “There was a Green Arrow in the wedding.”

Hal frowns, “I don’t remember seeing one.”

With a shrug, Oliver grins, “I didn’t need Wayne to buy my trademark, so I always know when someone’s wearing my look.  Trust me, there was a Green Arrow in the wedding.”

Superman interjects, “Back to Hal’s point, I doubt Luthor would ever allow a Justice League wedding unless he’s intentionally antagonizing us.”

“Or…”  Oliver interrupts again, “He actually loves Bruce Wayne, and Wayne wanted a League wedding?”

Pointing his finger at Oliver, Hal frowns, “What is wrong with you? Why are you playing devil’s advocate today?”

At the accusation, Oliver leans back in consideration.  “Don’t know. Guess it’s cause I meet two devils this weekend, and turns out they are just some quirky, misunderstood ladies.”

Snapping a finger pistol at Oliver, Batwing winks in understanding.  Oliver returns the finger pistol.  Watching the display, Barry turns to Oliver and gasps, “What, no!  You can’t have inside jokes with fake Batman!”  He turns his pout at Batwing, “We haven’t even got to hang out yet.”

Seeing the group’s conversation once again spiraling, Diana gently taps the table to get their attention.  “While there is debate on the meaning behind Luthor’s vows and the location of the wedding, may we discuss what our plan of action shall be?”

Everyone agrees and then turns to Batwing for his proposal.  Batwing nods and states flatly, “Initiation.”  

The meeting room is utterly silent as everyone gaps at Batwing in surprise.  Superman speaks with a high-pitched gasp, “What?!”

Raising his hand to stop any further interruptions, Batwing says firmly, “You said it yourself.  Wayne is the League’s figurehead and representative.  And by the state of Nevada, Luthor is now Bruce Wayne’s husband, spouse, significant other, partner.  Luthor, in his own right, is now a representative of the League.  So, we will treat him as such.”

Superman pales at Batwing’s truth.  Batwing continues, “With any person we see fit to join the League, we would have approached them and discussed our evaluation steps.  However, I would like to try a different approach.”  

Batwing looks around the table, gauging everyone’s reactions so far.  Seeing that most were just curious about his suggestion so far, Batwing lays it all on the table, “Since we aren’t actually inviting Luthor to join us, and the fact that Luthor is very familiar with most of us, I want you to investigate Luthor as your civilian identities.”

This causes outcries from a few and Batwing shushes them with a glare that would match Batman’s.  “Listen.  We are investigating our own benefactor’s husband.  We can not go in like we normally do.  This has to be handled quietly and with finesse.  This is the best opinion.”  At the somber silence as everyone thinks over his declaration, Batwing sighs and confesses, “I understand this is a risk to your identities, and it will be difficult to find a means to get close to them.  But we are talking about the two most powerful men in the world; one that funds us, and one that has tried to destroy us.  I agree that we have to do this, but we must do it right.  We would be risking too much if we don’t handle this with care.”

Diana is the first to speak up.  “I understand the risk.  I am willing to do what must to make sure our team is safe, and at peace.”   She squeezes Clark’s hand, smiling kindly.  “If you are worried, then let us relieve your fears.” 

Barry and Hal exchange looks, sharing a private conversation in just facial expressions.  Then, with a defeated sigh, Hal nods.  He then turns to ask the group, “How the fuck are we suppose to get close to Luthor anyways?  I’m just a pilot, and Barry is a lab nerd.”  He turns to Arthur, “And you?  How the fuck would you?”

Arthur just shrugs, “I got it figured out.”

Hal scoffs, “What, seriously?  You just going to jump out of the water at him, aren’t you?”

Arthur smirks, “Thought about it.  But, nah. I actually got an in.”

Turning to Oliver, Hal deflates, “Of course you’re covered.  You’re you.  I feel like that’s cheating.”

Oliver just shrugs with his hands, “What can I say?”  He then offers, “I could be your in.”  He claps Barry on the shoulder, “Both of you.”

Barry perks up at that, then frowns, “What about Diana?”

Oliver laughs, “Please.  Diana’s the most suave person I met.  Out of all of us, I bet she’ll be the first to meet Luthor.”

Batwing clears his throat, “So we are all in agreement to the plan?”

Superman speaks up, “I.. I can’t.”  Everyone frowns at him in concern.  He shakes his head, “It’s not for want to, just Luthor knows who I am.”

Nodding, Batwing confirms, “I know.  Even if he didn’t, I would have benched you anyways.  I believe you would be too emotionally compromised.”  At Superman’s hurt face, Batwing shrugs, “I will also be sitting this one out so that we have an odd number to break a tie.”  Turning to the team, Batwing’s tone turns serious as he gives out the team order.

“Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Flash.  You five are charged with the mission to approach Lex Luthor as your civilian identity and evaluate him as a person, as well as evaluate his intent with Bruce Wayne.  Once done, we will meet and vote on whether Luthor is a risk, and if further action will be needed.  Everyone understood?”

Everyone looks at each other, and with a solemn, unified nod, they all agree.  With all five members accepting their task, the meeting is dismissed.  Everyone leaves except Oliver who waits until it is only him and Batwing alone in the meeting room.  Once the door closes behind the others, he grins, “Quite the wedding, huh?”

Dick takes off the mask so he can smile at Oliver, “Dude, the best!  Thanks again for watching Gotham with the girls.  Sounds like they grew on you?” 

Oliver smirks with a shrug, “Who knew?  That Harley is smart, but crazy smart.  Starting to see why Roy and Jason gush about her.”

Dick leans back, “Yeah, she’s a fairy.  She just happens to be all good just now.”

Shaking his head, Oliver stands up, “Yeah, definitely a Tinker Bell.”  He flinches, “Damn, I need to stop watching all those fairy shows with Lian.”

Smirk, Dick refutes, “Or you need to watch more!”

Oliver snorts, “Nope.  Not happening.  I finally got allowed to show her fox Robin Hood.  That’s all I need in my life right now.”  Changing the subject, he points at Dick, “Tell your two old men that whatever they are doing with the League, I want in.”

Giving a look of mock confusion, Dick asks, “What makes you think they are planning something?”

A look of disbelief is Oliver’s answer, “The world’s best detective, and the most evil mastermind?  Please, they planned all of this down to a T.  I’d be a fool to think they don’t have this ‘initiation’ planned as well.”

Dick chortles, “What if I told you that they have everything so perfectly planned that they expected you would offer your services and you are already part of their master plans?”

Oliver gives a shark’s grin, “Then I’m lucky to have such considerate friends.”

 

Notes:

Ahahahah!
Two chapters, one night! And I'm able to go to bed at a decent time! Today's turning up Milhouse!

I hope y'all like the two chapters, and I hope y'all are excited about the initiation! It's going to be great! :D So much shenanigans!

Chapter 27: The Warrior, Part 1

Summary:

Historic remnants and future plans do mix!

Humans are amazing, wonderful things.  In the years Diana has lived among them, she has always been awed by them.  From their never-ending hope for a bright future to their unwavering resilience in the darkest times, Diana knows that it will take centuries to truly appreciate and understand the human race.  Centuries that she will cherish and mourn for she has found some of her dearest comrades and friends in this race of frail mortals.  From their kind hearts and warm smiles, to their determined will and fierce convictions, Diana has loved the humans as if they were her own people.  Her own family.

One of the greatest things that Diana loves about humans is their ability to change.  As they grow, they learn and adapt.  The smallest thing can change a human completely.  A broken promise can break a person’s heart.  A kind gesture can turn an evil soul.  So when Diana accepted this mission, she did so not out of fear for Bruce Wayne, nor for the League.  She did it merely out of curiosity. The curiosity of Lex Luthor’s heart.  For a man to change so drastically, from an evil tyrant to a good-hearted humanitarian, from a killer to a healer, has Diana utterly fascinated.  

---

Dear Mr. Luthor-Wayne, 

My name is Diana Prince and I am a curator at the Louvre Museum.  In aid of the devastation of Metropolis, my Department of Antiquities has offered aid to all the museums in Metropolis to house, assess, and/or repair any damaged antiquities in this troubling time.  It has come to our attention that you have a sizable collection of Greek artifacts, and thus, we would like to extend our offer to you as well.  If you would find the time to contact me, we look forward to your reply.

---

Dear Ms. Prince, 

I appreciate you and your department’s offer.  I would kindly accept your offer, for my preferred curators are currently still dealing with their museum’s repairs.  Unfortunately, I have had my collection relocated to Gotham for the time being.  If your team is still willing to assist, I shall have my assistant get in contact with you so that we can make an arrangement.

---

When Diana had sent her offer, she assumed that her interaction with Luthor would be very limited, if not non-existent, and she would have to work towards a meeting through strategic means.  However, she was pleasantly surprised when she learned the location Luthor had moved his collection was Wayne Manor.  And in a surprising and considerate offer, he only agreed to her aid if she agreed that her stay in Gotham would be at the Manor.

So, on a rainy April day, Diana rang the doorbell to the Wayne Manor.  The door is answered by an older gentleman in a full suit and a well-contained smirk.  “Greetings, Miss Prince.  Alfred Pennyworth at your service.”  He then bows and motions her in, “Welcome to the Wayne Manor.  Please come in.” 

As she is let in, she curiously peers around, spying quick movement down the hall.  As the gentleman takes her coat, he nods to the case in her hand, “Do you have luggage that needs brought in?”

She nods her head and smiles kindly, “Yes, I have left my luggage in the car.”  

He nods, “Very good.  I will have it moved to your room.”  He then motions her down the hall, "Allow me to escort you to Mister Luthor-Wayne.  He is expecting you.”

Through a series of hallways Diana is led to a back wing of the house, clearly unused.  As they walk, she tries to keep a smile from her face when she realizes that they are being followed.  As she takes a peek behind them, she only sees a quick shadow move into an open room.

Even though he is looking ahead, Alfred seems to sense her pause, “Do not worry, my dear.  The house is mostly empty today.  I doubt your work will be disturbed.”  Before she can answer, he stops at a set of doors and opens them.  The room is a spacious ballroom.  There are dozens of pedestals with glass cases on top, showing off numerous antiques.  

Luthor walks towards them, his face calculating as he takes in her appearance.  Then, with a warm smile, he offers his hand, “Miss Prince, it is a pleasure.”

Smiling in kind, Diana accepts his hand, “The pleasure is mine, Mister Luthor-Wayne.”

Diana sees a spark of delight in his eyes when she refers to him by the new last name. Even so, he offers kindly, “Please, you may call me Lex.”  

Even with just the short introduction, Diana can see how Lex Luthor had become such a good businessman.  His smile is warm, his body language relaxed and friendly.  And though his words sound like they are overused, a common pageantry, what Diana hears is an earnest request.  So, with her own smile, she asks, “Then I must ask you call me Diana.”

Lex nods in acceptance then says, “I am sorry to hear the rest of your team could not come.”  He motions to the collection, “I do hope the size of my collection will not be an issue.”  

Moving forward to inspect the first case, Diana answers honestly, “At a glance, I will stand by my three day estimate.  But I am excited for I rarely come to Gotham. It shall give me a chance to experience the city.”  She stops in front of a pedestal and frowns, “This one is missing it’s plaque.”  She turns to Lex in concern, “Then I assume that they were near one of the sinkholes?”

Lex nods as he walks up to her, “Yes.  Luckily, they were not in the LexCorp tower, but a nearby storage warehouse.”  Diana gently pulls up the paper that is tapped to the case, a written copy of the plaque.  As she reads it, she smiles, “You have beautiful handwriting.”  

Lex corrects her, “That’s Bruce’s writing.”  At her surprised face, he nods, “When I had my plagues made, I asked they be made of clay from Alexandria.  Foolish thought, now knowing they shatter so easily.  I was just going to throw them away, but Bruce offered to reassemble them and copy the script.  He’s quite good at puzzles.”

Letting the paper go, Diana moves onto the next display, “Truthfully, that sounds quite fun.”  She gives Lex a knowing look, “Though I suppose that’s a job requirement of mine.”  As she reads the next paper, she looks at Lex with soft glee, “Does Bruce know Greek?”

Lex hums, “Indeed.”  Seeing Diana’s excitement, Lex switches to Greek so he can offer in mock nonchalance, “ Though it is not as good as mine.“  

Laughing in delight, Diana softly claps her hands once in joy.  She tilts her head at Lex and asks earnestly, “Tell me.  You have an affinity for the language, and I see most of your collection is of Alexander the Great.  Will you tell me why they interest you so?”

Lex’s eyes fall onto a bust of Alexander the Great near them.  In a soft, faraway voice he answers, “My mother named me after him.”  He frowns as he continues, “She knew my father wanted an heir for his name and business, so she named me after the greatest conqueror there was.”  

He stands in silence, gently touching the display’s glass reverently.  Diana walks up to him, and gently touches his arm.  “A name is a wish your parents make.”  When he looks at her, she speaks curiously, “Do you believe her wish came true?”

Lex frowns but gives a tilted nod, “Yes.  I have conquered many things in my life.  Some things I knew she had wanted me to.  Though, other things she would probably not have wanted me to face at all.”

Diana pats his arms comfortingly, “Yet, you conquered them all the same.  Something you should both be proud of.”

A thankful look crosses his face and he turns back to the bust.  Seeing that Lex has fallen into thought, Diana steps away and gets to work.  She has a few days here at the Manor, but for the first hour she already has much to think about herself.

---

As she gets to work with her first preliminary pass on the collection, Lex moves to a couch on the edge of the ballroom.  He settles down with a tablet, quietly working as she moves from case to case.  Intermittently, she will inquire about the antiques; where he got them, previous conditions before the quakes, and even a few random questions about sister collections that she knows about in other museums.  

The morning passes in a quiet, comfortable lul that Diana enjoys.  However, as they decide to break for lunch and both head to the door, the quiet is broken by the ballroom doors being opened right in front of them.  In a melodramatic display of distress, Brucie Wayne collapses against Lex, throwing his arms around Lex’s neck.  With a whiny voice, he bemoans, “Lexie, save me.”

Lex looks completely unbothered by the display, nor the request, though he does raise an arm to gently pat Brucie on the back.  With a calm, disinterested voice, Lex asks, “What seems to be the problem?”

Drooping down Lex’s front, Brucie looks up at Lex and pouts, “Mattie is demanding yet another press meeting.  Why can’t they just be happy for us?”

Lex gives a fond smile, “Cause no one is allowed to be happy.  Especially us.”  He gently peels Brucie off of him and straightens him up.  His words sound placating, “I’ll have Angela talk to Matthew.  I’m sure they will come to a compromise.”  He then turns Brucie so he’s facing Diana, “Bruce, I would like you to meet Miss Diana Prince, the curator that is staying with us.”

The firm hands, soft words, and manhandling cause all of Brucie’s distress to bleed away.  However, when he finally faces Diana, he gives her a leering grin, “Forgive me.  I can’t believe I missed such a gorgeous lady in my presence.”  He offers his hand.  When she goes to shake it, he grabs her hand and brings it to his lips.  With the kiss, he winks, “A pleasure, Miss Pierce.”

Diana looks to Lex but he is un-phased by the flirting.  The only thing that seemed to bother him is that he corrects Brucie, “Prince.”  

Brucie frowns at him, mouthing the name before saying, “Prince.  I’ll remember that.”  His tone clearly states he won’t.  Brucie then wraps his hand around Lex’s tie and says, “Thank you for talking to Angela.  You know I appreciate it.”  He leans in and kisses Lex.  Even with Diana there, the kiss gets lascivious, but it ends quickly.  Without turning around, Bruce walks towards the door.  With a wink to Lex, he leaves with a farewell, “Ad astra per aspera.”

As Diana watches the door shut, she turns to Lex with a curious smile, “He knows Latin as well?”

Lex answers completely deadpan, “Bruce has a very talented tongue.”

---

After a delicious lunch served by Alfred, they both return to the ballroom, continuing the same quiet work.  Not long after, the ballroom door opens.  However, when Diana looks towards it, it is already shut with no one entered.  Seeing Lex unbothered, Diana returns to work.  The same thing happens again, multiple times over the course of an hour without a noticeable pattern.  She is unable to spot the perpetrator.  However, by the fifth time, Lex calls out, “Cassandra.  If you would like to come in, you may.”

A young Asian teenager enters the room.  Diana recognizes her as the Wonder Woman impersonator from the Luthor-Wayne wedding, and now is able to identify her as one of the illusive Wayne children.  The girl walks quickly over to Lex and stands in front of him.  Lex looks up at her with a look of concern, “You are upset.”

She huffs at him and then flops down on the couch next to him, cuddling into his side.  Going back to work, Diana watches from the corner of her eye as the girl signs to Lex, Not upset.  Disappoint.

Lex chuckles as he puts an arm around her, pulling her close as he asks, “What did your father do now?”

With a frown, Cass signs, Surprise Meeting.  She then pouts at Lex, Chicago. Tonight.

Lex hums, “Well, I’m still going with you.  And maybe it will be a short meeting.”

With a signed Everyone clowns. Expect worse., Cass cuddles back into Lex’s side.  It’s only then that she sees Diana.  Giving an embarrassed smile, she waves tentatively.  

Out of all of the languages, Diana has always loved signed languages the most.  Where the power of Athena grants her the ability to understand any language, feeling the God’s love flow through her arms when she signs gives Diana a warmth that no other language can give her.  With a warm smile, Diana signs Hello.

Seeing Diana sign causes the girl to sit up and grin, signing excitedly, Hello. How are you today?

Diana grins, Good.  Happy.  She then gives Cass a concerned, quizzical look, You sad?

Cass seems to deflate, Dad maybe miss music theatre tonight. Chicago.  However her sadness evaporates as she points at Diana excited, You come with us?  Take Dad seat?

Seeing the girl’s excitement and having not seen the musical, Diana looks to Lex for guidance while she politely gives Lex an out, “I would hate to take your father’s seat if there is a chance he could make it…”  

Instead of refusing, Lex answers, “That won’t be a problem.  We have a private box.  If you would like to come Diana, I see no issue.”

Once again, Lex sounds sincere in his offer, so Diana smiles at Cassandra, “Then I would be honored to join you.”

Instead of looking excited, the girl looks at Diana like she’s judging her, then with a tentative smile, she signs You wear costume?

Curious at the request, Diana signs, Costume? I no have costume?

Cassandra seems unperturbed, No.  We get costume.  Make.

Lex explains, “When Cassandra saw the ads for Chicago, she fell in love with the flapper dresses.  Thus, we have costumes waiting at our tailors to pick up.”  Lex raises his hand to stop any refutes, “Drafette tends to go overboard and make excessive amounts of clothing. And unfortunately for you, you look to be about Mercy’s size.”

Diana thinks to Lex’s bodyguard and agrees that they have very similar body types.  Diana answers Cassandra’s question with a heartfelt smile, “That sounds wonderful.”

---

Diana loves Drafette.  The bold, flamboyant man took one look at her and fake swoons, “Oh hon-ey! Look at you!  Come here!  Sorry Mercy dear, you getting the leftovers.  This girly is getting all my goods!”  In a swirl of fabric and beads, Diana finds herself in a red and black flapper dress with matching shoes and purse.  

Looking herself over in the mirror, Diana sees Mercy and Lex come out of the dressing rooms in waist high pants and suspender belts.  She opens her mouth to say that she would prefer the suspenders herself.  However, Diana changes her mind when Cassandra comes out and says the first words Diana hears from her, “We match!”  

As the young woman wraps her arms around Diana and grins a blinding smile, Diana grins back, “I love it.”

---

They fill into the private box in the Gotham theatre just as the show starts.  The final show of the season, the cast and crew pulled out all the stops.  From the dancing and lights, to the confetti that rained down from the ceiling, the show was a splendor.  With Cassandra and Mercy on each side, Diana is having a wonderful time.  To the point that when it hits intermission, everyone in the booth is startled when they turn around and find Brucie Wayne sitting behind them with a smug grin, “Surprise!”

“Dad!”  As Cassandra bounds over the chairs to hug her father, Diana marvels at how silent Brucie was to have been sitting behind them without anyone noticing.  She can only think of a few people that could sneak up on her so.  While in thought, Diana notices Bruce wince in pain when Cassandra hugs him.  But Diana puts that thought aside as Bruce starts answering a series of unseen questions that Cassandra signs him.

“As to be expected.  Since Cell Block Tango.  Of course I was going to wear the costume.”  At this last one, Brucie snaps the suspenders he is wearing.  Cassandra giggles, and with that, she drags her father outside to the concession stand.

When the show starts up again, the seating arrangement changes.  Diana, Cassandra, and Mercy get seated in the front, with Lex joining Bruce in the back row.  With Lex and Bruce sitting right behind her, Diana learns a few interesting things about the two men.  

First, Bruce likes to talk through dialogue.  Whispering, his voice is barely heard over the play, “We have two other guests staying with us tonight.”

Voice lined with concern, Lex answers just as quietly, “Are they okay?”

Bruce’s voice is reassuring, “They are fine.”  But then his voice turns teasing, “I think they heard you had a guest and wanted to have a sleepover.”

There is a pause, then Lex asks, “And you thought that was a good idea?”

A rustling of fabric, “They promised to behave.  I trust them.”

Before Lex can answer, the song Roxie starts.  That is when Diana learns that Lex knows all the words to the Chicago songs, and he sings them under his breath.  She also notices that Bruce stops talking when Lex is singing.

When the song Razzle Dazzle starts, Diana hears Bruce whisper to Lex, “Oh, it’s your song.”

Only for Lex to snort, “And here I thought it was yours.”

Bruce chortles until Mercy hushes him.  Which he just hushes her back.  This starts a back and forth until in unison, both Diana and Lex say, “Children.”  As Cassandra chortles at the jinx, Diana and Lex share a knowing smile.  

Once the show is over, the cast and crew come on stage to bow.  However, after they bow, they all start clapping and cheering, waving at the Wayne private box.  Mercy frowns at the weird display, “Why are they doing that?”

Bruce leans over the chair backs to answer her, “Cause it’s their last show..  And I paid for their final crew party.”

Mercy turns to face him, glaring, “Why?”

Brucie just grins, “Cause we didn’t get all dressed up to sit in a private box.  We got dressed up for a night on the town.  So up we go.  We are going dancing with the Chicago cast.” 

With Cassandra excited and Lex curious, both turn to Diana to gauge her interest. She gives them a pleased grin as she admits, “I have not danced in a long time.”  

With Diana’s acceptance, Cass cheers before turning to Mercy, pulling her out of her chair.

As everyone files out of the box, they are instantly greeted by the two leading ladies, Roxie and Velma.  Brucie hooks a girl in each arm and leads the group out.  Lex just shakes his head fondly before offering his own arms to Diana and Cassandra.  Thus, the group make their way outside and to the pop up bar down the street.

When they enter the bar, a few of the crew have already shown up before them.  A few were on the dance floor, dancing to the Chicago movie soundtrack that is playing in the background.  As Mercy goes to claim a table near the dance floor, Brucie and the two leads turn to the rest of the group.  “Alright, these two fine ladies have offered to show us how to do some swinging 20’s dances.”

He turns to the brunette and gives a flirtatious look, “Velma, be nice to my daughter.”  The woman laughs then offers her hand to Cassandra, “Come on sweetie.  Let’s trot!”  Cassandra looks her over before nodding with satisfaction, taking the offered hand.

Bruce then turns to the blonde lead, giving her a pout, “Roxie, please don’t kill my husband.”  He offers her arm to Lex.  Lex gives Brucie a fond yet exasperated look as he takes Roxie’s arm.  

With his arms empty, Brucie turns to Diana and gives her a charming grin, “Lucky you, Miss Prints, for tonight, I am your dance partner.”

Diana accepts his hand, but asks, “You will teach me the same dances?”

Bruce pulls her close and loops his arm around her waist, giving her a cocky grin, “Diane.  I know all the dance moves.”

True to his word, he did.  Step and step with the vixens, Bruce walked Diana through all the dance steps.  From the Charleston to a fox trot, Brucie was a patience teacher, showing every step until Diana got it down perfectly.  Once she learned one dance, Diana would just grin at Bruce and ask for the next dance.  Eventually he ran out of 20’s dances, but that didn’t stop either of them.  Soon, Diana was challenging Brucie to the dances she did know.  Dance by dance, they moved through the decades.

Eventually the vixen girls and Lex got tired and took a break, however Brucie never stopped.  It was only when the Chicago soundtrack completed its second round and someone put on another playlist did they stop. The first new song, a slow dance, makes Brucie pause.  His face gets still, making him look more serious, more tired.  He looks at Diana and confesses softly, “You know.  I haven't slow danced with my husband since we got married.  Which is a shame cause he loves to dance.”

Diana can feel her heart soften for the man as he looks over to where Lex is talking to Cassandra, the look of admiration on his face.  He let's go of Diana abruptly and walks towards the table with a purposeful stride.  Watching him walk away, Diana can see a man committed, a stride that reminds Diana of another.  Before she can think on it, Cassandra comes up and asks Dance?  Diana smiles and accepts.  

As she dances with Cassandra, Diana’s eyes keep falling to Brucie and Lex.  Brucie is leading his husband in a waltz, his arm wrapped around Lex’s waist.  Over time, even though the song changes to something more upbeat, their steps get slower and they end up leaning their foreheads together as they gently rock back and forth.  In that moment, she can see the love and dedication between them as they talk quietly to each other.  And when Lex laughs at something Bruce says, Diana can see the pure happiness in his eyes.

When Diana accepted this mission, she was curious about what could change a man's heart.  In that moment, Diana's starting to think she knows.

Notes:

Oh buckets! I had to break this chapter in two! I knew what I wanted for this chapter, but I didn't have the outline until tonight, and wow! There's so much I want to tell with Diana! So, two chapters she will have! :D

And man, this part was even better than I expected! I love Diana and Cassandra so much!

Chapter 28: The Warrior, Part 2

Summary:

Breakfast and Sleepovers do mix!

When Diana enters the kitchen the next morning, she is greeted by two men.  The one sitting at the breakfast nook table she easily identifies as Richie Wayne, the new CEO of Wayne Enterprises.  The other is another of the illusive Wayne kids, but the white streak in his hair identifies him as the Aquaman impersonator at the Luthor-Wayne Wedding.  He gives Diana a roguish smile as he offers his hand, “Jason Todd-Wayne.  It’s nice to meet ya.”

Seeing the raw admiration in his eyes, Diana tries not to frown. Instead she returns the smile as she shakes his hand, “Diana Prince.  The pleasure is mine.”

When Jason let’s go, he claps his hands together, “So, Diana.  Alfred is out this morning, so he asked that I make you breakfast.”

Richie grumbles, the complaint echoing in the quiet kitchen, “I could have done it.  Don’t know why he asked you.”

Jason snorts at his brother, “Cause you would have given Diana Prince, our honored guest and friend, mere cereal.”

Richie glares and asks condescendingly, “Yeah, and what are you going to make her, oh great chef?”

Jason grins, “Whatever milady requests.”  He turns to Diana expectantly.

Richie points a finger at her, “Make it a challenge.  If he’s going to be a cocky punk, make him work for it.”

Seeing the two boys' antics makes Diana smile.  She looks to Jason, and confirms, “Anything?”  He nods, a confident look on his face.  Without thinking, she proudly requests, “Red velvet crepes.” 

Both boys’ eyes widen at the request.  Jason looks serious as he reviews a mental list in his head, before he nods with a cocky grin, “Coming right up.”  He turns and heads to the pantry.  

In his absence, Richie returns his attention to his laptop, though he waves in the general direction of the kitchen, “If you need coffee, machine is there, cups above it.”  

Diana thanks him and goes to make herself a cup.  As she does, Jason comes back with his arms full.  Getting out of his way, she moves to the breakfast nook and sits next to Richie.  Grabbing the newspaper next to him, Diana spends the early morning reading and drinking coffee as Jason cooks in the background.

Surprisingly quick, it is not long before Jason presents her breakfast.  He sets the plate down in front of her with a flourish, “Breakfast is served!”  The red crepes look perfect; beautifully decorated with swirls of chocolate and powdered sugar, filled with whipped cream.  

Richie just scoffs, but his words come out laced with jealousy, “Show off.”

Jason sticks out his tongue playfully as he takes off his apron.  As he hangs it up, he says nonchalantly, “Well, I’m going to head out now.”

This causes Richie to freeze in a panic, “You’re leaving?!  What about everyone else?  They’ll starve!”

Jason just smirks, “I’m sure they will manage.”  He grabs a magnetic marker on the fridge.  Across the fridge’s black surface, he writes with a bright, opaque pink marker, ‘P&H Kidnapped Alfred, Fend For Yourself!!’  With that, he leaves the room with a wave, “I’m off to save Alfred!  Nice seeing ya Diana!”

Diana frowns at the farewell.  She turns to ask Richie if they had met before, but she is interrupted by a blonde woman, the fake Black Canary from the wedding entering the kitchen.  When the blonde enters, she is looking back into the hallway in confusion.  Turning around, she asks Richie, “Why is Jason here?”  Before Richie can even answer, the young woman looks towards the empty kitchen, “Where’s Alfred?” 

Sighing, Richie points to the fridge.  As the blonde reads it, she keens and melodramatically collapses to the floor, “Noooo!”  After two seconds of lying broken on the floor, she agilely jumps up and turns to Richie with mock concern,  “We have to go rescue him!”

So absorbed by his work, it seems that Richie had lost his own dramatic edge.  Instead, not taking his eyes off his work, Richie waves her off absentmindedly, “No we don’t.  You can feed yourself just fine.  Besides, Jason’s on his way over to help them.  I heard that Alfred’s letting them replant the west wing gardens, so they are probably just out picking out plants or something.”

Satisfied with the answer, the girl turns to Diana and gives her a big, friendly grin as she extends her hand in greeting, “Stephanie Brown-Wayne.  It's great to meet you!”  Charmed by the girl’s theatrics and her demeanor, Diana shakes her hand, “Diana Prince, the pleasure is mine.”  

Greetings done, Steph turns to the kitchen.  She is about to open the fridge but stops when she sees in the fridge’s reflection Bruce walks into the kitchen. Steph grabs her chest and gasps dramatically as she turns around in mock shock, “Dad!  You beat Lex down for breakfast? Le gasp!” 

Bruce shakes his head fondly at her, “Unfortunately, he’s on a phone call at the moment.”  His eyes then snap to the fridge behind her.   Recognizing the writing, he frowns thoughtfully, “Jason was here?”

Richie answers, “Yep, just missed him.  Alfred had him make Diana breakfast.”

Apparently remembering he has a guest, Bruce turns to Diana.  His words are warm as he greets her, “Good morning Diana.  I hope-”

The rest of his words is eaten up by an abrupt, loud voice echoing into the room, “Father!”  Another young man enters the room, the Green Lantern imposter’s voice and body language demanding attention.  He walks up to Bruce and presents a piece of paper, “Father, will you please review my acceptance letter.”

Bruce seems unperturbed by the interruption.  He takes the paper and replies warmly, “Of course, Damien.”  As he starts to read it, Bruce heads to the coffee machine.  

At this point, Steph has pulled a bowl out of the fridge.  The bright red dough left over from Jason's crepes makes Steph frown.  She turns to Bruce and presents the bowl to him, “Dad, what’s in this?”

Not taking his eyes off the paper, Bruce leans over and takes a couple sniffs.  Between sniffs, he absently lists off what he smells, “Red 40. Red 3. Chocolate. Flour. Eggs. Butter. Milk.”  He barely pauses as he turns to Damien, his words kind but firm, “Damien, you know these letters are supposed to be friendly, not threatening.”

Damien tuts as he crosses his arms defensively, “Luthor had approved it.”

Bruce raises his eyebrow curiously.  However, before Bruce can reply, Steph nudges his arm and asks, “What type of flour?”

Not taking his eyes off Damien, Bruce answers, “Almond.”  He then opens his mouth, but is once again interrupted when Lex enters the kitchen.  

Easily joining the conversation, Lex looks at Damien with a smirk and a wink, then looks at Bruce with a smug smile, “I saw nothing wrong with his letter.”

Bruce gives Lex a deadpan look before he starts to read from the letter out loud, “‘Should my prestige and fame not be accepted, your refusal would be a regrettable tragedy that your entire facility will rue.’”  When neither Damien nor Lex seem phased by the line, Bruce sighs disappointedly, “I have never heard the use of the word rue unless it was in a very specific, threatening use.”  He stops, then grins as he turns his attention to the table, “Diana, did that sound threatening to you?”  

Trying not to smirk at the small family feud, and to avoid getting involved in it, she shoves the last bite of crepe in her mouth and smiles sweetly around the mouthful.

Coming to her rescue, Lex just frowns in a mimicry of despair, “That is the bittersweet tragedy of the written word, Bruce.  How easily one can find false meaning when reading.  One will only see what one wants.”  He then turns to Damien, his words sure, “I say send it.”

With Lex’s approval, Damien nods and snatches the letter from his father’s hand, “I appreciate your support.”  

As Damien leaves the kitchen, Bruce calls after him, “Then why did you have me read it?”

Lex walks past Bruce to the coffee machine, but takes a second to grab Bruce’s arm in comfort.  However, Lex’s words are full of mock pity, “He wants you to think your opinions still matter.”

Bruce gasps, grabbing his heart in a dramatic show.  Then he turns to glare at Lex, his words heavy with bitter promise, though the smile that tugs on his lips ruins the moment, “You will rue the day you became my son’s favorite.”

Lex tilts his head in consideration, his lips curling in a satisfying grin, “Now that sounds like a threat.”  

Intentionally quick to break the tension, Steph steps around her dad to ask Lex, forcefully cheery as she presents a plate, “Lex, pancakes?”

As Lex looks at the bright red pancakes that she had cooked, he frowns in disgust, “Unfortunately no.”  At Steph’s pout, he quickly covers, “I have a video call this afternoon with my finance team, and I doubt they will take me seriously if I have red teeth.  But I do appreciate the offer.”

Bruce easily grabs the plate and smirks, “Your loss.”  

However, on his way to the table, Cassandra comes bouncing in.  When she sees his plate, she chirps excitedly, “Red pancakes!”

Sighing, Bruce gently hands her the plate and ushers her to the table.  Cassandra squirms around the table until she’s sitting next to Diana. His hands empty, Bruce sits down at kitchen island so he can watch Lex and Steph make breakfast.

As the smell of bacon and sausage fill the air, the last family member walks in.  Awake and focused, the ex-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, the Flash imposter, walks in.  With his focus on his tablet, Tim heading straight to the coffee machine.

As he enters Lex’s peripheral, Lex gives Tim a look over.  “You look well rested this morning.”

At the statement, Tim turns to Lex and pouts. He’s words start out offended but lose their edge at the end, “I know how to sleep like normal people do.”

Steph walks up behind him and hugs him in support, “Tim you aren’t, and have never been, normal.  You want some pancakes?”

He nods and accepts the offered plate.  Before he heads to the table, he says to Lex, “Lex, before your finance meeting today, anyway I can convince you to add a little side project’s cost to your review?”

Lex hums, “I’m sure you could.  I’ll have a look after breakfast.”

Finishing up cooking, Lex and Steph start handing plates for Bruce to take to the table. With food and silverware passed around, the Wayne family finally settled into breakfast.   

Taking some bacon for herself, Diana listens to the small conversations that sprout up around her.  And while she doesn’t engage in many of them, her silence doesn’t exclude her from the comforting comradery that surrounds her.  And when Bruce gives her a warm smile, Diana feels like this is a family she would love to get to know better.

---

When Diana finally gets back to the ballroom to work on the artifacts, she is left alone.  Even Lex is absent, with multiple meetings taking up his day.  Diana finds the silence almost eerie compared to the vibrate energy that surrounds the Wayne family.  However, Diana easily gets to work, focusing herself as she carefully inspects the antique pieces for flaws.  

Thus, right before lunch a sharp rattle on the ballroom’s glass exterior doors startles her, making Diana almost drop the artifact in her hand.  Looking up through the French doors, she sees a new person peering it at her; a blonde that looks suspiciously familiar, dangerously familiar.  The blonde is standing in the rain, wearing short shorts and a tank top, only her arms covered by her puffy red and blue jacket.  She isn’t wearing shoes, mud covering her feet and legs.  In her hand she has a shovel propped on her shoulder that is also covered in mud.

When the blonde sees Diana look her way, she grins and waves frantically.  Surprisingly, suspiciously, the doors are unlocked, so the blonde easily enters the ballroom and skips over to Diana, mud trailing behind her.  She stops in front of Diana in an exuberant stop, “Greetin’s Suga’! You must be the Princess everybody’s been talkin’ about!”

Unsure how to respond to the potential threat, Diana greets her with a forced smile, “I am Diana Prince.”

The blonde pulls the shovel off her shoulder; the shovel’s descent catches the side of a display case, the sound of scratched glass filling the air.  Unbothered by the scratch, the blonde props the shovel in front of her and leans against it so she’s looking up at Diana with a grin, “Ain’t this just a pleasure!”  She jerks her thumb at herself, “I’m Harley!  Yep, that Harley; the only Harley that matters!”

Curious about her presence, Diana asks calmly, “May I ask what you are doing here, Harley?”

Harley then kicks the shovel out from below her, sending it skittering across the floor.  Putting her hands on her hips, she admits, “I’m stayin’ here too!  Brucie’s lettin’ me and Pamzy stay here cause some clown blew up my digs.”

Her claim sounds familiar for Diana as she remembers the conversation last night, when Bruce told Lex that they would have two more guests.  Diana isn’t sure what surprises her more, that Bruce Wayne would let two well-known criminals stay at his Manor, or that Lex had sounded concerned for the two ladies.  However, when Harley says clown, Diana frowns in concern, “Do you mean the Joker?”

Harley scoffs and waves her off with her hand, “What, no, not that clown.  An actual clown!  Which is funny!”  She then frowns, all her exuberance gone, “Except for it ain’t.”  Her seriousness evaporates with a shrug, “Anyways, Imma talkin’ about dear ol’ Ernie, the bald bastard next door.  I didn’t know he was an actual clown.” She taps her chin in thought, “But now that I think about it, he has the face.  The droopy jowls that make you want to give ‘em a wiggle.”  Harley makes a grabbing motion like she’s actually shaking someone’s cheeks in her hand, her face scrunched in concentration.

After a few seconds, and Harley not continuing the conversation, Diana can’t stop her smile.  The blonde reminds her of Barry to the point that Diana gently touches Harley’s hand to get her attention, “Harley, you were telling me about the clown.”

Harley straightens up in surprise, though she grins brightly as she continues, “Right, so, here in Gotham, we don’t really do real clowns anymore; no parties or gigs and stuff.  But Ernie still has his clown suit, and he still does balloon animals.”  At that, Harley slaps her forehead as a look of realization crosses her face.  She exclaims loudly, “Oh!  Balloon animals!  Of course he was a clown!”  She shakes her finger at Diana with a look of smug self-deprecation, “Dead giveaway. Shoulda seen that straight!”

Floundering her hands, Harley returns to topic, “Anywho, apparently Ernie is gettin’ on' in his ages, and he made a dumb dumb mistake.  He ended up buyin’ a hydrogen tank instead of a helium tank.”  She shrugs, “So, you know where this is goin’, but he was practicin’ balloonin’ an one of his balloons got too close to his heater, and CAPOW!  There goes the whole building!” 

At Harley’s nonchalance, Diana has to ask, “Is everyone okay?”

Waving her concern off, Harley replies, “Oh yeah, we all are.  Though Ernie ain’t got no more eyebrows.  Or clothes.  The real problem was that everyone thought it was a Joker clown attack cause Ernie’s clown suit was found in the wreckage.  Of course, everybody started freakin’ out.  Made it a big o’ deal.”  She twirls her finger, “So short story long, Brucie is lettin’ us stay here until we can find some new crib.  We’ve been eyein’ a warehouse down at the pier.  The way the wind whistles through the broken glass just sounds like home to me.  And Pammy says there good lightin’ for all her fernie babies.”

The comparison between Harley and Barry is complete when Diana sees that Harley is done with her story without actually answering the question.  With a kind smile, Diana asks again, “So what are you doing here , Harley?”

Harley gives her a look of confusion, before she starts, “Oh, the reason I’m here !  Well, I was a thinkin’...”  All of a sudden, the bright, vibrant girl turns a little shy as she says, “Well, since you are stayin’ here, and we are stayin’ here, what’do ya say we have a little girly sleepover!”

Frowning at the invite, Diana tilts her head and asks, “I have never had a sleepover. Are they not for children?”

Harley gasps in shock, “Neva’?!”  A look of righteous concern crosses her face, “Princy, if you haven’t had a sleepover before, we are fixin’ that tonight!  Yes ma’am-ee!   And don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise, sleepovers are for everybody!  But an adult sleepover is way more fun!  We’ll still do the normal things; like paintin’ our nails, an play dress up, and talk about the people we crushin’.  But we are also gonna get drunk and play poker and smoke all of Brucie’s fancy cigars!”

She pauses and gives Diana another self-deprecating grin, “Look, ya have no reason to trust me,”  The look turns mischievous, “But you can trust me when I say you are in for a treat!”  She looks earnestly at Diana, “So, what do ya say?”

Diana looks at Harley, taking in her earnest face and barely-contained excitement.  Through the entire interaction, while Harley has been erratic and unfocused, Diana hasn’t felt any ill nor negative feelings from Harley.  So, with a smile, Diana nods, “I trust you.”

---

Harley was right.  It was a treat.  That night, Mercy joined them and the four women smoked cigars and sipped expensive liquor.  With Bruce’s blessing, they raided the Manor’s storage, finding old antique dresses and expensive jewelry that they wore with the horribly cheap feather boas that Harley brought.  They played poker, betting chocolate coins and flower petals.  At the end of the night, somehow Harley had convinced Lex to paint their nails.  It turns out ‘talk about the people we crushin’’ meant talking about the times that they put people in their place for underestimating them.  Or actually crushing them.

Mercy is in the middle of talking about the time she broke a Wayne Enterprises’ board member’s fingers when Diana has to excuse herself to use the restroom.  When she comes back, she finds Bruce leaning against the door frame, watching the group inside.  He smiles fondly when Lex has to softly remind Harley, once again, to sit still.  

Diana approaches him, speaking kindly, “You have quite eccentric friends, Mr. Wayne.”

He turns to look at her, giving a soft smile, “Indeed I do.”  He looks back at the group as he confides, “Alfred says I have a penchant for collecting the lost.  Says the Manor has become a foster home for wayward villains.”

Diana has a strong urge to loop her arm in his, which surprises her since that is something she only does with the League.  Refraining from doing so, she looks back at the group.  

Pamela is braiding Mercy’s hair.  Mercy is throwing popcorn at Harley, trying to intentionally get her to move.  Diana can see Harley trying her hardest not to move too much, but the urge to retaliate is growing across her face. Seeing her girlfriend’s struggle, Pamela starts to tug on Mercy’s hair to distract her.  Which just causes Mercy to throw popcorn at Pamela.   Right before it escalates into a food fight, Lex clears his throat; the one sound brings everyone to attention.  

Diana smiles as she tells Bruce, “It does seem like they just needed a second chance.”

Bruce hums. Then he says softly, “There was a time I didn’t believe in second chances.”

Curious, Diana turns her attention to him. While she has met Brucie Wayne a few times over the years, he had always seemed a flippant man.  However, from what she has seen of him the last two days, she knows now that's not who this man is.  The way he spoke those words sounded like a confession.  One that was meant for Diana.  Feeling like Bruce is about to confess to something so few would hear, Diana does the one thing she is the best at.  

She listens.

Bruce doesn’t face her.  He stares ahead though he is no longer focusing on the group.  His words are tired as he says, “I have been called a stubborn man.”  He chuckles softly as he shakes his head sadly, “I truly believed that there were lines that once a man had crossed them, they could not be forgiven for what they did.”

Diana’s heart aches as she thinks of the deaths of the Wayne’s; a child witnessing the death of his parents.  What kind of turmoil that could grow in a heart so young.  

Bruce continues in a whisper, “But I was wrong.”  He pauses, then signs, “My son, Jason… He had a rough time.  Where he did things, said things that I thought unforgivable.”  He looks down at his hands and confesses, “And even staring at my own beloved son’s flaws, I couldn’t budge.  It.. It took the rest of my kids to show me. For them to tell me that if I could not forgive Jason his transactions, they would not forgive mine.”  

He finally looks over at Diana.  But she does not see the mask that Brucie Wayne wears in front of cameras, in front of crowds.  What she sees before her is a man that has been broken.  A man rebuilt.  

She finally sees the man behind the mask.  

He frowns as he starts, “It was only then that I realized how destruction my stubbornness could be.  How it had blinded me to the things that really matter.  It was only then did I realize I was wrong.  That I was a fool.  And when I finally forgave Jason, it opened my eyes to all the other things I wasn’t seeing.”  His gaze snaps back to the room, his eyes instantly falling on Lex.  His words are reverent as he says, “Who I wasn’t seeing…”

Behind the mask, Diana sees a man that she would like to know.  

He looks at her and says again, firmly, “I still don’t believe in second chances.  How do you know you are giving people a second chance, when so many times people aren’t even given their first chance.”  He frowns, “And second chances make it sound like there is a limit.  If they fail, do we stop giving them chances?  Do we stop caring?”  Once again his eyes return to Lex.  Bruce sounds heartbroken, “Do we give up on them?”

The look he gives Diana is fierce, committed as he declares vehemently, “I refuse to give second chances.  When it comes to my family, to those that matter, I will give them every chance they need.”

And in that raw emotion of truth and forced will, Diana sees a man that she knows.  She sees a man she cares for.  She sees a man that she loves.

When she says his name, her voice is filled with awe and admiration, laced with the sound of delight.  

“ Bruce .”

And while she’s only saying his name, Bruce can hear the true words she is saying.  That she finally sees him.  That she finally knows him.

“My friend.”

Her laugh is a joyous one as she loops her arm through his, as she had wanted to do.  As she leans her head against her friend’s shoulder, her smile is as bright as her delight.  Though to sate her curiosity, she asks, “Tell me.  How many chances did you give me?”

She feels and hears Bruce’s chuckle.  A similar, familiar sound that she has heard many times.  However, this one sounds warmer, lighter, happier.  

He replies, “Only once.”

Leaning back to look at him, she frowns, “Only once?  Usually you like to drag things out so.”

Bruce’s words are soft as he looks down at her, “I didn’t want that.  Not about this.”  He closes his eyes as he admits, “I wasn’t asking if you wanted to know.  I wanted you to know.  To know me.  To know my family.  To be part of my family.”

Seeing this man that she loves, adores, be so candid makes Diana’s heart melts.  She gently taps his chin.  When he opens his eyes, she knows that her smile is telling Bruce all he needs to know.  She knows that her smile is telling the truth.

“Bruce Wayne.  I am honored to be part of your family.”

Notes:

I love Diana. She's my favorite. :) These two chapters make me happy.

Chapter 29: The Scientist, Part 1

Summary:

Food and Trivia do mix!  

The mission is to infiltrate Lex Luthor’s life and evaluate him as a potential ally threat.  

And Barry doesn’t want to do it.

Now, don’t get him wrong.  He understands it's important, and he’s not actually turning down the mission.  It’s just that, this is really complicated, you see?  The thing is, Barry actually likes Lex Luthor.  Well, the current one.  The old, evil version was kind of a dick.  But now, the new and improved Lex Luthor is kinda neat! 

Barry’s allowed to say this cause he’s actually been spending time with Lex.  Which he forgot to bring up in the meeting.  And over the last six months.  Cause it’s not that big of a deal, right?  Of course not, cause he’s been doing it as the Flash.  But in a Classic Barry’s Hindsight Mistake, by hanging out with Lex as the Flash, Barry has only now realized that he has shot himself in the foot.  

This actually super sucks for him cause:  A: The mission wants Barry Allen to get to know Luthor, not the Flash.  And B:... Well, no one really knows that the Flash has been hanging out with Lex Luthor.  I mean, they know about that one time during the Livefire event.  However, afterwards, Luthor had offered to keep the Flash in the loop, asking for the Flash’s insight and expertise on the project.  And yeah, maybe the Flash visits the Livefire building once or twice a month.  And yeah, maybe they have lunch afterwards and talk about the Speedforce, and quantum theory, and the meaning of life and..  Yeah, maybe they became friends?  

(Oh my god, they are totally friends, when did this happen?!)

When Barry finally realized this, he was first quite excited; another friend added to the friend tally list!  (His list is very small, he will take what he can get!) But then the horror set in.  How do you tell your friends you are now friends with an ex-villain?  (Well, besides the Rogues, but they all saw that coming, right?  Right?) And well, maybe it won’t be that hard to say. ‘I’m friends with  Lex Luthor.’ 

(Oh my god, Clark’s head is going to explode!  Why must life be so hard?!)

Anywhos, back to the real problem at hand.  Not that Flash is friends with Lex Luthor.  (That’s not a problem, no problem at all.  That won’t blow up in his face.)   The real problem is Barry Allen isn’t.  But now Barry Allen has to go be friends with Luthor.  And well, that’s where it really becomes a problem, because Barry is has a problem.  Another problem.  (Barry has a lot of problems.)  

If you are a friend of Barry Allen, in or out of the suit, there are two things you do not trust him with: secrets and food.  Both because Barry Allen can’t keep his mouth shut.  The secrets problem is because Barry likes to talk AND Barry has a hard time remembering things that Barry Allen knows vs. things that only the Flash would know.  Which is going to make going undercover real complicated.  Since the Flash knows a lot !  And Barry wants to talk about it!

But don’t worry, cause Barry has a plan!  He’s going to solve one of his problems with the other one.  Not by keeping his mouth shut, but by keeping it full.  Which is win-win for him, really.  For you see, Barry Allen is hungry all of the time.  Not some of the time.  Not most of the time.  Barry Allen is hungry.  All.  Of. the Time.  And as a man that can go through time, that’s a LOT of time.  

When you have a metabolism that burns as fast as you can run (*see Fastest Man Alive), it is a constant game of keep up; eating every second you can to manage the much-needed high-calorie intake.   Thus Barry calls himself a black hole of snacks.  (He is a snackhole.) Unfortunately, this constant state of hunger has led him to some of his biggest mistakes.  For when he is hungry, he tends to lose his thought process.   He tends to zone out.  He tends to accept things without considering them.  And most of all, he tends to say things without thinking.

So, Barry’s plan is to just keep food on hand, and in mouth, and he should be able to keep all his problems to a minimum.  For at any time he feels that he’s going to say something he shouldn’t, he will just shove food in his mouth. That should work, this easy food plan of his.

.

..

...

Too bad Barry didn’t plan on Oliver Queen.

---

 It all starts during an afternoon of monitor duty with the Green Arrow, when Oliver offers to buy Barry dinner afterwards.  Of course, Barry accepts without thought or consideration.  (Free food is best food.)  Barry straight up swoons on Oliver, damsel pose and everything, “Oh, please pamper me, rich man!”

Classic Barry’s Hindsight Mistake:  Challenging a rich man.

Instead of going to Big Belly Burgers, or some mom and pop shop, they end up in Morning Glow, a five star restaurant in Metropolis.  The posh restaurant’s empty VIP room is the highest room in the tallest tower in town, overlooking the newly constructed city in a complete 360° view.  And as the sunset shines through the vast open windows, Barry is thankful that he isn’t afraid of heights, cause the open air and high view was breath taken, and a little terrifying.

Classic Barry’s Hindsight Mistake:  Not asking who else was going to join them.

When he sees Dinah step off the elevator, Barry whooped in excitement.  However, right behind her is the talk of the town, the eloped couple, the League’s current center of attention:  Bruce and Lex Luthor-Wayne.

Barry’s brain breaks.

This was not planned.  Yes, Oliver said that he was going to help Barry get close to the couple.  But Barry thought they would talk about it.  Plan for it.  Give code names and safe words.  He did not think they would have an impromptu meeting.

In slow motion, like a horror movie realization, Barry turns to Oliver with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.  His voice is a harsh whisper as he gasps, “You are evil…”

Oliver just gives him a shark’s grin before he stands up to greet Dinah, kissing her on the cheek.  

And like watching a train wreck, Barry watches Oliver friendly shake Lex and Bruce’s hands in greeting.  Like they were friends.  Like this was a normal, common occasion.  Like Oliver had become part of the Stepford Wives.

Before Dinah can walk around the table to sit on Oliver’s right, Barry grabs her arm.  With wide eyes, he mouths ‘Help me!’ at her.  She pats his arm and says softly, “You’ll be fine. Just be you, and you’ll do.”  With that, she walks away.  

As everyone sits down, Wayne takes the seat across from Barry.   Once seated, Wayne eyes Barry up and asks with a smirk, “So, who’s the nerd-cute mute?”

Classic Barry’s Hindsight Mistake: Trying to be himself.

Without thought, Barry blurts out, “Allen.  Barry!  I’m Barry Allen!  I know that sounds like I was giving you two first names, but that’s my name.”  Unable to stop himself from rambling, Barry grabs a piece of bread off the table and shoves it in his mouth.  Nice.  First attempt at Food Mute-any, success!

Sitting next to Barry, Luthor, as in Lex Luthor: billionaire, philanthropist, (ex?) villain, raises an eyebrow at the display.  Where his husband, Wayne, as in Brucie Wayne: billionaire, philanthropist, (ex?) playboy, smirks.  With a knowing smile in place, Wayne lays a napkin across his lap as he asks, “And how do you know the Queens?”

Barry freezes.  Once again, Barry is upset with Oliver cause they haven't rehearsed this.  Plus his mouth is full. Trying not to freak out, Barry turns to Oliver for support.  With a sigh, Oliver takes pity on him and answers for him.  

Classic Barry’s Hindsight Mistake: Thinking Oliver would be nice.

“Barry accused me of murder.”

Swallowing the bread roughly, Barry turns to Oliver and hisses harshly, “We aren’t supposed to talk about that!”

Oliver just shrugs, “But it’s the truth, Barr.”  His look turns coy, “And aren’t you a man constantly on the search of the truth.”

Scrunching his face in a glare, Barry retorts, “I don’t like you anymore.”

Wayne’s warm chuckle carries through the small room, easily breaking the tension.  He waves the waiter over as he says, “That sounds like quite the story.  However, I’m sure murder conversations can wait til after dinner?”

At the word dinner, Barry sits up straighter, instantly nodding, “Yes, food.  The bride that got me here.  I will have it now.”  Except for a small glare he sends Oliver’s way, Barry waits patiently for the waiter to come take their orders.  Seeing how attentive Barry is, the waiter motions to take his order first.  Barry opens his mouth, then closes it with a pout.  With the Luthor-Waynes here, and since Barry is here as Barry Allen and not the Flash, Barry won’t be able to order his usual amount of food; the amount of food that would make even food-eating champions concerned.  Sigh, so much for being pampered.

However, before Barry can give his order, Wayne interrupts to ask the waiter, “Juniper, can I call you June?  June dove, is this the new seasonal menu?”  Except for the blush that spread across her cheeks, the waiter keeps her face expressionless as she nods.  Wayne looks at the menu and looks utterly complexed, “Well, it’s just going to be too hard to decide.  Tell you what Juney, we are just going to have to try everything. Order everything up, darling.  As well as the desserts.”  Without question, the waiter starts to gather the menus back up.  

Barry may not be counting, (he totally was) but it looked like the menu had a dozen dishes and four desserts.  Enough food to feed an army… Or a Flash.  Barry had always heard that Brucie Wayne was a fickle, impulsive man.  However, Barry will never, ever judge this man again now that he’s going to reap the tasty, tasty benefits from it.  Barry leans over to Oliver and whispers, “You are forgiven.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow as he whispers back in mock confusion, “I didn’t realize I did anything wrong.”

Barry glares, “You always do something wrong.”

When the waiter leaves, Barry starts to psych himself up for the most likely hour-long conversational torture that Oliver roped him into.  However, almost as one, everyone pulls out their phones.  Barry can feel his eyes go wide as he whispers in awe, “My people...”

The only one to have heard him, Luthor doesn’t look up from his phone, but he does say, “My apologies.  I just need to finish some last minute emails for Lex-po.”

Barry opens his mouth, excited to talk about it, but he impulsively shoves another piece of bread in his mouth to shut himself up.  Barry Allen wouldn’t know about Lex-po.  Only the Flash has been privy to that information.  

However, (lucky for Barry) apparently Oliver knows what it is, cause he starts to sputter, “Wait, you bought all the rights to the East Coast Science Expo, and you are renaming it Lex-po? ”  In disgust, Oliver shakes a finger at Luthor, “Oh, vain is you.”

Luthor finally looks up from his phone just so he can give Oliver a disinterested look.  In a dull tone, he explains, “ I did no such thing.  I hire a PR team to handle such frivolous things.”

Wayne adds on, “Ollie, don’t hate just because you don’t have such a convenient name.  I totally agree with Angela.  What's the point of having such an obvious pun and not use it.”  

Thankful that he has an in, Barry interrupts Oliver before he can refute Wayne by covering Oliver’s mouth with both his hands.  Turning to Luthor, Barry asks excited,  “Wait, so you bought the East Coast Science Expo?  I was going to go to that!”  (Lex may have given the Flash a VIP pass.  That he was totally going to use.  And he’s totally dragging Hal to.)

With his attention back on his phone, Luthor nods absentmindedly, “Indeed.  I have been working on a couple of projects that I planned to announce this year, and Angela thought I should make a big deal about it.”

Barry has to shove more bread into his mouth so he doesn’t freak out.  He, the Flash, knows that one of the projects is Livefire.  Barry knows it will be one of the biggest things to be announced this decade.  But what really is freaking him out (excitedly), is the idea that Luthor has other projects that could be just as big, as important, that he would be announcing at the Expo.  And Barry doesn’t know about them?!  

Barry fails at not freaking out. Around his mouthful of bread, a high pitched squee escapes his mouth, causing everyone at the table to look at him.  Barry can see Luthor trying to hide a smile as he asks politely, “Are you interested in the Sciences, Mr. Allen?”

Barry starts to nod his head, and can’t seem to stop.  Seeing that Barry has hit ‘excited puppy’ mode, Oliver says in his stead, “Yes, Barry is a forensic lab tech.  Huge tech nerd.”

Luthor nods, “Ah, hence the murder accusation.”

That knocks the wind out of Barry’s excitement as he pouts in defense, “I was just doing my job.”

Giving a coy look, Oliver asks, “You get paid to jump to conclusions?”

With a little attitude, Barry corrects him smugly, “No.  I get paid to consider every conclusion.”

Wayne frowns, “Not just every possible conclusion?”

Shaking his head sadly, Barry sighs, “Nope.  All conclusions now.  When you got meta problems, you gotta think outside the box.”  

Luthor gives Barry a contemplative look, “Do you deal with a lot of Metas, Mr. Allen?”

Warning bells start to go off in Barry’s head.  That sounds like a hot topic to avoid.  He nods his head as another piece of bread goes into his mouth.  He is saved from actually answering when his phone goes off.  However, as Barry checks the phone message, he lets out a wail of despair, “Noooooo!”

Knowing Barry’s over-dramatic expressions, Oliver pats his arm, “What’s wrong, bud?  They cancel your favorite ice cream?”

Barry turns his sad eyes to Oliver and pouts, “One of my coworkers just backed out on next week’s Trivia night.  Again.”  Barry can’t stop the wobble of his lip as he mourns, “It was going to be the day we finally beat Chad .”  The name is spit out with disgust.  

Unable to stop her chuckle, Dinah asks, “Who is Chad?”

Barry frowns, “I don’t know.  I don’t even know his name.  I just know he shows up every Trivia night and wins.  By himself!  And he calls his “team” Supermind, and he wears a Superman shirt and a cape .  He’s rude and cocky.  And he’s such a .. a.. Chad!”

An evil smirk crosses Dinah’s face as she innocently offers, “You should take Bruce.”

Everyone at the table stops and stares at her.  Barry can feel his frown deepen in confusion.  Was that a joke?  Should he laugh?  That seems rude, cause Wayne is right here. Unsure what to do, Barry just takes another bite.  

However, Oliver jumps onto the idea, a glint of glee in his eye, “Oh, yes!”  He claps Barry on the back, almost making Barry choke on his mouthful.  Pulling Barry close, Oliver motions to Wayne, “Behold Barry.  Look at this man.  This sleazy, floozy human; a despicable specimen of man.  Behind all this glitz and glamour of a horrible man is a bottomless pit of useless information.  Brucie’s brain is a steel trap of the most useless information possible.  The prime candidate for your Trivia team.”  

Seeing Barry frown in disbelief, Oliver just grins, “Don’t believe me?  Tell me Barry, who won best actor in 2010?”

The pop culture and movie nerd that he is, Barry opens his mouth to answer.  Yet, at the same time, he hears Wayne answer as well, “Jeff Bridges.”

Barry can’t stop himself from gasping.  As he eyes Wayne in consideration, Wayne just shrugs, “What can I say?  Everyone loves Bridges.”   

Before Barry can comment, Dinah asks, “And who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2002?”

Again, Barry and Wayne answer in unison, “Jimmy Carter.”

Once again looking at Wayne for an explanation, Wayne frowns, “He was our president.  Everyone should know his accomplishments.”

After that, the whole group gets into asking questions.  Oliver’s questions focused on movies and pop culture, where Dinah quizzes them on world events and history.  Lex even joins in, throwing in science questions.  And oh boy, is Barry impressed!  Wayne really does know a lot.  Like, a crazy amount of stuff.  Which is saying a lot because everyone always says Barry is a sponge of information.  But there is even stuff Barry doesn’t know.

“Who was the first emperor of the Jin dynasty?”

Barry collapses on the table, avoiding one of the many dishes that had been served to them, “I’m done.  I don’t know.”  He pouts at Dinah, “But I know dumb Chad would know it.  Dumb Chad.”

“The Emperor Wu of Jin, Sima Yan.  Son of Sima Zhao.  Son of Sima Yi.”  

 Barry looks up at the smug look on Bruce’s face and groans, “And why would you know that ?!”

Bruce just shrugs again, “One of my son’s video games.”

Frowning, Barry challenges him, “Are you pulling my leg?”

Bruce snorts, “If you think I have time to read a three volume, thousand page book about the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, you are sorely mistaken.”

Sitting up, Barry squints his eyes at Wayne, “Or I’m sorely correct.  Since you know the title of the book.  And how big it is.  Man, that is a big book!  What other big books have you not read?”

Preventing them from getting sidetracked, Dinah asks, “I believe that has been a wonderful display of questioningly valuable knowledge. So what do you say Bruce, going to help our Barry out?”

Bruce considers it as he dips his spoon into one of the desserts, “Why not?  Sounds like fun.”

Barry gaps at him before he starts rambling, “Really?  Cause that seems so not you.  As in, you seem a busy guy. Who wouldn’t have time for Trivia nights.  Not, as in, that you wouldn’t help people out.  Especially me.  And oh my god, would it be weird to show up with Bruce Wayne?  That seems weird.  Are you sure?  I’m starting to freak out.  I’m excited, yet so confused.  Am I scared?  Why are there emotions?”

At this point, Oliver takes a page from Barry’s book, and shoves bread into Barry’s mouth.

To answer Barry’s word vomit, Bruce just smiles at Barry, “I said I’ll be there kid.  I’ll be there.”

---

Bruce Wayne is not here.

Barry is trying not to freak out be upset disappointed.  And he’s not upset, cause they’ve only met once, and it’s Bruce fucking Wayne.  The man is known for his flakiness.  Barry’s just a little disappointed.  They have ten minutes to submit their team name and Bruce is a no show.  Barry keeps eyeing the door, hoping to see the man come through the door.  Joe claps him on the shoulder, “Hey Bear, sorry to say it looks like your replacement isn’t going to make it.”

Barry deflates, “That’s alright.  Something importation probably came up.”

Joe hums, “Who were they anyways?  I don’t remember you saying.”

Unable to stop his eyes from snapping back to the door, Barry replies, “I didn’t.  In case this happened.”  (And to also delay as long as possible telling Joe that he met/knew Bruce Wayne)

Joe gets up, “Don’t worry, maybe today will be our lucky day and we’ll beat Supermind just by ourselves.  I’m going to grab another beer.  Hold the fort.”

However, before Joe can walk away, behind Barry a voice calls out in a Midwest accent, “Don’t reckon you could get me one as well?”

Confused, Barry turns around.  And what he sees causes his brain to instantly stutter.  While Barry knows he is wrong (so very wrong), the name falls from his lips, “Clark?”  But it is not Clark.  It’s Bruce.  Bruce Wayne. He showed up.  But now Barry is dealing with another crisis issue.  He just called Bruce Clark, and for good reason.

The Midwest accent was the perfect ruse to confuse Barry’s brain.  That confusion turned to trauma when Barry had turned around and saw Bruce Wayne standing there, wearing a horrible plaid shirt and black rim glasses.  But it’s more than that; more than the similar attire and the similar messy black hair and blue eyes.  It’s how Bruce is standing.  It’s how Bruce is talking.  He looks and sounds like Clark.  (What the #@$%?!)

In a daze, Barry watches as Bruce smiles at Joe and offers his hand.  In the same, perfect Midwest accent, he greets him, “Well, like he said, I’m Clark.  Clark McClane.  Sorry for my delay.”

Barry’s heart dies a little.  Gods, no.  He’s actually going to use Barry’s slip-up of a name.  Barry wishes the ground would swallow him up.  He didn’t even have any food handy for plan Food Mute-any!  

Joe smiles warmly as he shakes Bruce’s hand, “Detective Joe West. Glad you could make it Clark.  Let me go grab us those drinks.”

As Joe leaves, Barry whispers harshly at Bruce, “What are you doing?  What are you wearing?!”

Bruce smirks as waves his hand in front of him in a display.  In his normal voice, he answers, “It’s called a disguise.  No one would expect Bruce Wayne to wear plaid.”

While true, Barry can’t stop from whining, “But why are you wearing it?”

Bruce sits down, “You seemed concerned about Brucie Wayne showing up to your little shindig, so I decided not to come.”

Barry frowns, “So, ‘Clark’ McClane came instead?”

With a snort, Bruce shrugs, “I was going to go with Thomas, but someone floundered.”  Bruce pauses and raises a finger at Barry. He asks curiously, “By the way, who’s Clark?”

Barry is saved by Joe returning with a handful of beers and a basket of fries.  He sets the fries in front of Barry, who instantly shoves the food in his mouth.  Smirking at the childish manners, Joe turns to Bruce, “So, tell me Clark.  How do you know Bear?”  

Barry groans, but tries to cover it up as a groan of food satisfaction, and not dread.  However, Bruce answers easily, “Well, I ran into him at Jitters.  He tried to whisk away my crossword puzzle, and we got to talkin’.  Once I told him I wasn’t allowed at my bar’s Trivia night anymore, he invited me to crash yours.”

Joe tilts his head curiously, “You aren’t allowed anymore?  Got kicked out?”

Bruce takes a sip of his beer and then grins a charming grin that looks so much like Clark’s, Barry has to blink the vision away.  Bruce answers with a wink, “Well, turns out no one likes a smart aleck and a show off.  But I promise to reign it in today.  Hate to give bad first impressions.”

Joe grins and waves his hand, “No, no.  No reigning in tonight.  We need a smart aleck show-off because we got to take one down.”  He points across the bar to a man sitting in a corner by himself.  From his polo shirt (yes, it does have a big Superman logo embroidered on it, gag), tan shorts and the gaudy red cape, to his stocky stature and sleazy grin, the man radiates douche.

Bruce looks him over and tsks, “That Supermind?”

Taking some fries from Barry, Joe nods, “Yep.  Speaking of which, we only got a few minutes to submit our team name.  Bear and I usually go for the ‘Spanish In-quiz-ition.’”  

Joe pauses and together he and Barry say, “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!”  As a happy surprise, Bruce joins them, causing them all to laugh.

Joe continues, “But since you are our guest, what do you think we should name ourselves?”

Bruce taps his chin in thought, “Well, I do have a suggestion.  The only thing that can take down Superman is Kryptonite.  So, the only way to take down Supermind is…”  He pauses, and then says with a grin, “Quiztonite?”

Barry howls at the pun, but Joe groans loudly, “Oh, that’s bad.  You must be a dad to pun that bad.”

Bruce barks out a big boisterous laugh.  Still chuckling, Bruce nods, “Yeah, I got a handful.”

Joe smirks, “Sounds like it, to make you that punny.”  

The host makes her final call for team names.  Joes gets up, “Alright team, let’s trounce this guy once and for all.”  

With that, Trivia night begins. 

---

The first category is Food.  Of course, Joe and Bruce let Barry answer all of them.  No one knows food better than the Snackhole. 

As Barry writes down an answer, he says, “Did you know that the Big Mac-”

Joe cuts him off, “No, don’t ruin it for me Barry.  Just let me die ignorant.”

---

The second category is Cartoons, which everyone was able to contribute to.

Barry gasps in horror, “What do you mean you’ve never seen Jem? What were you doing, living under a rock?”

Bruce actually looks offended, “I wouldn't actually call it a rock."  He then frowns, "And what about you, Barry?  You say it aired in ‘85?  Were ya even born then?”

Joe shakes his head and points a fry at Bruce, “Don’t misdirect McClane.  I’m with Barry here.  You can’t say you lived until you’ve seen Jem. She's outrageous.”  He pauses, and in unison, he and Barry recite deadpan, “Truely, truely, truly outrageous.”

---

Third category is Music, which Barry is thankful for Bruce and Joe.  Apparently Barry doesn’t know music as much as he thought.

“What do you mean Johnny Cash covered Hurt?!”

Joe takes a swig, “Yep.  Nine Inch Nails, buddy.”  

At Barry’s gasp, Bruce just smirks at Joe, “Should we ruin ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun?’ as well?”

Barry jumps up and points at Bruce as he shouts, “No!  That’s Cyndi’s song and you can never take it away!”

---

By the end of that category, the scores are tallied and it is announced that Supermind and Quiztonite are tied.  Meaning the last category would be their tie breaker.  When Supermind heard what the category was, he whooped.  However, little did he know that his opponents had an advantage.  That his opponents were the most knowledgeable people in the world when it came to this category.  

“The last category is the Justice League!”

Barry turns to Bruce and grins the most vicious grin he can.  (It looks more goofy than vicious.)  “You going to carry our weight here, McClane ?”

Joe frowns, “Him?  But you are…”  He pauses and then subtly motions to Barry, “part of the League 'fanclub'.”

Remembering that Joe doesn’t know he’s having Trivia night with the benefactor of the Justice League, Barry flounders, “Well, yeah.  I’m part of the 'fanclub', but Clark, he’s a .. mega fan?”  

Joe looks between them suspiciously.  However, Bruce just waves between them, “Either way, just means you will finally get your revenge on the Supermind.”

And almost as one, when every question is asked, Barry and Bruce answer in unison. All except the last question.  

“How many times has the Joker been in Arkham Asylum?”

Only Barry answers, leaning in and whispering excitedly, “Twenty-four!”

Joe goes to write the answer, but Bruce grabs the pen out of Joe’s hand.  “It’s a trick question.  She said has been in , not jailed.”  

Barry and Joe look at each other and groan at the same time, “Jail breaks.”  Joe snatches the pen back, “So, how many breaks?”

Barry shrugs, unsure.  Bruce answers, “Four.”  However, he leans into Barry and whispers, “Or so the public knows.”

Joe looks at Bruce sharply, “What did you say?”

Taking a drink, Bruce tilts his head in mock confusion, “Hmm?”

Joe glares, “No, you said something.”

Bruce ignores him, intentionally looking at the host, “Looks like it’s time to tally.  We’ll want to turn in.”

Joe gives him a sharp knowing look, but gets up to hand in their answers.  The moment Joe is out of ear shot, Barry turns to Bruce, “What do you mean, publicly?”

Smirking Bruce answers, “The Joker’s been involved in seven breakouts, but we only told the public of four of them.”

Barry frowns, “ We ?”

Bruce doesn’t look like he’s going to answer.  Before Barry can push it, Joe comes back.  As he sits down, Joe says, “Now, Clark.  You were saying something about-”  However, Joe is interrupted by the hostess.

She waves everyone quiet and gets ready to announce the winner.  Barry and Joe share a look, both letting Bruce off the hook for now.   Instead they turn their attention to the hostess.  The time has finally come.  With anticipation, they wait for the results.

The hostess doesn’t grandstand, “Alright everyone!  We have tallied the answers, and tonight’s winning team, with 100% correct answers, is…  Quiztonite!”

Hearing this, Barry jumps up and crows.  He then points across the room at Chad, “Suck it, Supermind!”

With a laugh, Joe grabs Barry’s arm and pulls him back into his seat, “Now, now, Bear.  No one likes a sore winner.”  However, Joe then jumps up and in the exact same pose points at Chad, “Suck it, Supermind!”

As Joe sits down, he high fives Barry.  Smiling, Barry then turns his high five to Bruce.  As their hands connect, Barry blurts out, “You’re my new best friend!”  However, his smile falters, “But I already have a best friend.  Can I have multiple best friends?”

Bruce shrugs, “Why not? All my friends are my best friends.”  

Barry tries to stop himself, but he’s out of fries, “That sounds a little childish?”

Instead of getting offended, Bruce just smiles, “To some, maybe.  But, it’s like having a favorite movie.  It’s hard to have an all time favorite movie.  But it’s easier to know your favorite action movie, or Christmas movie.  And I think we should not only consider, but understand what we love about each of your friends, and what holes they help fill in our lives.”

At Barry’s curious look, Bruce elaborates, “Out of all of my friends, my friend Alfred is the best at taking care of me.  My man Alex, he’s the best at understanding me.  Jim is the best friend at loving our hometown with the same passion as me.”  Bruce motions to Joe, “And now Joe is going to be the best friend to pick on you with.”  Joe barks out a laugh.

Barry frowns, “I thought that would be Ollie.”

Bruce grins, “Why, does Ollie have your baby pictures?”

Barry gasps and turns to Joe, grabbing his hands to beg, “Please don’t show him. Please!”

Snorting, Joe shakes off Barry’s hands.  However, Joe’s brain is turning over the fact that this man knows Oliver Queen.  Joe turns a speculating look at Bruce, “Tell me again, how do you know so much about the Justice League.”

Bruce looks him over.  Then, as if he came to a conclusion, he smirks at Joe. “Well, you could say that I’m really invested in the League.”

It only takes Joe a second to understand the words and for him to really look at Bruce before he starts cursing, “Jesus Christ!”  He turns to Barry, harshly whispering, “You brought Bruce Wayne to Trivia night?  And you didn’t tell me?!”

The perfect distraction, Bruce gets up, “Well, seems you two need to talk, and it’s about time I head out.”  He pulls a card and an employee ID from his pockets, “Here Barry, Lex wants you to call him.  Says he has a problem that someone who ‘considers every conclusion’ might be able to help with.”

With that, Bruce bids Joe and Barry goodnight.  However, before he gets too far, Barry calls to him, “Hey, McClane ?  What am I best at?”

Bruce looks at him and smiles, “You’re the best at a lot of things.”  

Sitting up straight in interest, Barry asks, “Yeah?”

Smirking, Bruce answers, “Yes.  Seems you’re the best at trivia."  His smirk turns into a smile, "You’re the best at making me smile.”  As he continues, Bruce’s smile turns warm and kind as he confesses softly, “And this may sound weird right now, but..  Barry, you are the best at giving me hope.”

As Bruce leaves, Barry turns to Joe in confused awe, "How can I give him hope?  I mean, he's him!"

Joe smiles and grabs Barry's hand, "Cause you give everyone hope.  You make people want to be better.  To be kinder.  And I think he is a prime example."  When Barry frowns, Joe smiles, "Come on Bear.  I doubt Bruce Wayne would just come to anyone's Trivia night."  At the realization, Barry can't stop the smile from growing on his face.  With a sigh, Joe leans back and gives Barry a disbelieving look, "I can't believe you are friends with Bruce Wayne...”

Hearing it out loud, Barry is stunned. 

(Oh my god, they are totally friends, when did this happen?!   Oh my gods, yes!  Another friend added to the friend tally list!)  

And as he sits in a daze, Barry thinks about how tangled his situation is getting.  First he had the not problem that the Flash is friends with Lex Luthor.  Now, instead of Barry Allen becoming friends with Lex Luthor, Barry Allen is now friends with Bruce Wayne.  

And yet, as he considers it, Barry doesn’t really see a problem with that either.

"Wait, what'd he say about Lex? As in Lex Luthor?  Barry, are you working with Lex Luthor?!"

Oh no...

Notes:

Oh Barry, you cinnamon roll. *squishes his face*. I love writing him, cause he's so spazzy in my head, and it all comes out in my writing.
And, hey look, all my League chapters keep multiplying. Look at that chapter number grow!
Let me know what you think! I love comments like Barry loves food! Nom nom nom! :D

Chapter 30: The Scientist, Part 2

Summary:

Secrets and Stress don’t mix!  

Barry has a problem.  Yeah, another one.  (What can he say, he has a lot of problems.)  But this problem isn’t just any old problem.  This problem is another problem’s problem.  For you see, Barry’s been so busy worrying about his own secrets that he didn’t consider what to do when he learned other people’s secrets.  Specifically, the Luthor-Waynes’.

And yes, that was the point to this whole mission.  Infiltrate the Luthor-Waynes’s lives and see if you can sus out any evil doings.  But from all the times he had hung out with Lex Luthor, Barry didn’t actually think he would find any evil-doing secrets.  He just didn’t consider he would find other secrets.  Like normal people secrets.  

So Barry has been learning the Luthor-Waynes secrets.  Some are actually pretty cute and completely harmless.  But some are surprising and/or confusing, and Barry isn’t sure if he should be concerned. He thinks he should be concerned, but he could also be overthinking things. (Like he tends to do. All of the time.)  But Barry’s problem, the problem’s problem, is he has no one he can really talk to about it.  Cause, A: Barry is pretty sure that if he even breathes ‘secrets’ and ‘Luthor’ in the same sentence, it will summon Clark in a whirlwind of worry.  And B: Barry likes the Luthor-Waynes and he doesn’t want to share their secrets.  Which now means their secrets are now Barry’s secrets too.   Hence the problems². 

Of course, you are probably curious on how Barry got these secrets in the first place.  Well, after Trivia Night when Bruce said that Lex wanted help on troubleshooting a problem, Barry did as asked and called Lex. Thus Barry was invited over to review some of Lex’s projects.  But he wasn’t invited over to Livefire, nor any other LexCorp subsidiary.  Nope, Lex invited Barry over to the newly rebuilt Lex Tower: the corporate headquarters of LexCorp and Lex Luthor’s penthouse and part-time home.

So, yeah, that was quite a shock for Barry; being invited into the man’s newly rebuilt home to help troubleshoot some top secret scientific problem.  Barry didn’t think he would actually be that useful, however, apparently one of Barry’s ramblings was the muse Lex needed to troubleshoot the issue.  (Don’t ask Barry what he said, he doesn’t really remember.  Something about robot boots?)  Thinking that was that, surprises of surprises, miracles of miracles, Lex and Bruce offered Barry an open invitation to come back. As their friend. 

So Barry returned.  While the Wayne Manor in Gotham was the Luthor-Waynes' permanent home, with the Tower's completion the couple has started staying at the Lex Tower once or twice a week.  (Neat being rich.)  Thus, when they were at the Tower, Barry would try to find time to visit.  And when he was there, he was either helping Lex with one of his projects or reading one of Lex’s theses or watching horror movies with Mercy or bothering everyone into playing Trivia Pursuit.  (Cause that’s what friends do, right?  Oh my god, their friends!  Again!  But different! :D )

But when you are over at someone’s place a lot, you tend to notice things.  A lot of things.

---

“We don’t really do leftovers, so take this pizza home with you.”

“No food in the lab.  Help me finish these pretzels.”

“Barry, I would like your opinion on this dish.”

“Hey kid, split this sandwich with me.”

 

Secret: The Luthor-Waynes (and Mercy) are food fairies.

That’s the only thing Barry can think to call it.  When Barry is around, it is like Lex and Bruce always have food on hand.  Not just food in the penthouse, but literally in hand.  If Barry’s hands are empty, something tasty is always being handed over to him.

When Barry first noticed that they were constantly handing him food, Barry got a weird paranoid feeling like he was stuck in a off-brand Hansel and Gretel movie, where they were trying to fatten him up.  But jokes on them!  That would be Barry’s dream come true!  When it comes to free food, Barry will never say no.  And it does get Barry thinking: can he even get fat?  

Challenge accepted, you weird rich witch men. Challenge accepted.

---

Secret: Brucie Wayne is a really tactile person.

Now, this actually isn’t a secret.  If you have seen Brucie Wayne on TV or in a tabloid, the man is constantly leaning on or touching people.  And he is just as tactile away from the public.  From clapping Barry on his shoulder and roughhousing with Mercy to wrapping his arms around Lex, Brucie shows his love through big physical affection.  What Barry didn’t expect was that Lex would let Bruce touch and even manhandle him without issue; even when especially when Lex is working.

 

It is a Trivia night. Barry and Lex are debating (again) the intended instructions for Barry's new trivia game while Lex is cooking dinner.  Lex is in the middle of chopping vegetables when Bruce enters the kitchen.  Completely indifferent to the sharp knife in Lex’s hand, Bruce loops his arms around Lex’s waist and hugs him from behind.  Lex’s only response is a deep sigh, “This is how accidents happen.”

Bruce mumbles into Lex’s neck, “I have faith in your steady hand.”

Lex snorts, “Or your quick reflexes?”

Barry doesn’t hear Bruce give a verbal response, but he assumes there may have been some indecent groping cause Lex sighs again, “You are incorrigible.”

In a deep voice, Bruce quotes, “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

And Barry’s heard that before.  No,not the words.  Of course he’s heard the quote before; Scott Pilgrim is the best!  But Barry’s sure he heard that deep tone before.  

However, before Barry can think about it too hard, Lex puts down the knife and turns around in Bruce’s arms.  Once he is facing Bruce, Lex wraps his arms around Bruce’s neck.  

Oh.

Oh!

With a blush, Barry quickly flees the room, leaving the men to their affection.

Secret: Brucie Wayne Lex Luthor is a really tactile person.

---

Secret: Barry isn’t the only visitor that frequents the Lex Tower.

Barry is standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when he hears a voice call to hold the elevator.  A familiar voice.  Sticking his head out, Barry sees who called and stops cold.  “Conner?!”

Conner stops midstep, a look of shocked confusion, “Barry?”  With only a second delay, Conner continues walking towards the elevator, but at a much quicker pace.  Barry waits til the exact second Conner is in the elevator before he starts smashing the close door button.  The moment the doors are closed, both Barry and Conner turn to each other and point fingers.  In unison, they ask, “What are you doing here?!”

Conner frowns and answers first, “Seeing if Dad wanted to get lunch.”

Barry opens his mouth then closes it.  That was not what he expected.  As his brain processes the information he starts rambling, “I was going to see if Lex was-  Oh my god, Lex’s your Dad!  I mean, I knew that, we all knew that.  We’ve always known that, but I feel like I forgot it somehow.  But he’s your dad!  And you are getting lunch with your Dad.  That’s great, I wasn’t sure you were…  Wait, are you allowed to?  I mean, of course you are!  But are you?  And oh my god!  Brucie Wayne is your step dad!  Is that cool?  I feel like that would be cool.  He’s cool.”

Throughout all the rambling, Conner slowly covers Barry’s mouth with a hand.  Once Barry is silenced, Conner asks, “Barry, why are you here? Is this a -”  He points up and twirls his finger around, abstractly indicating the Watchtower, “thing?”

Not wanting to upset Conner, Barry grins sheepishly, “It’s complicated?”  

Instead of getting upset, Conner just shrugs, “Okay.”, before turning around and scanning his ID and hitting the penthouse button on the elevator.

Barry frowns, confused.  “Okay?”

Conner just shrugs, “I trust the-” He does the same hand motion again.  “And I trust you.  So, no big.”

Eyeing Conner suspiciously, "Seriously?" At Conner's shrug, Barry frowns.  Pointing his finger at Conner, Barry asks gravely, “Seriously though.”  However, he’s unable to keep a smile from growing across his face, “Is Bruce a good step dad?  Cause if he ain’t, I’m going to give him the what for!”  Apparently the very thought of Barry reprimanding Bruce causes Conner to break up laughing.  While Barry doesn’t know what is so funny about it, the blusterous laugh is contagious and Barry ends up laughing with him.  

So caught up in the moment, Barry failed to think about their current situation, especially when the elevator doors open and Bruce greets them, “Conner!  Barry!  What’s got you cackling like hens?”

Not sure if he wants to tell Bruce that he just threatened him, Barry is unable to reply.  Conner just claps Barry on the shoulder as he exits the elevator, “Mr. Allen claimed he could out-eat me.”

Barry scoffs and puffs out his chest, “Excuse me young man, you could never compete with the Snackhole!”

Conner just grins, “Oh, now it’s on!”

Secret:  Conner is a good liar.

Not-a-Secret: No one can out-eat Barry Allen.

---

Secret: Bruce Wayne has the weirdest sleeping habits.

Seriously, weird.  First off, he will sleep anywhere, on everything.  Or anyone, if that someone is Lex and he is in a stationary spot.  Secondly, it’s not really sleeping.  Bruce seems to be taking micro power naps all of the time.  Barry wonders if he even really sleeps.  Instead, he just runs on a series of short power nap bursts of energy.  

 

When Barry enters the penthouse, Bruce and Lex are sitting at the kitchen island.  Bruce is asleep, leaning against Lex who is reading a book.  From the drawn face and bags under his eyes, Bruce almost looks ill.  Walking up to the island, Barry asks quietly, “Is Bruce alright?”

Bruce just grunts at him.  Lex reaches up and runs his fingers through Bruce’s hair and answers Barry, “Bruce was up late last night.”

Barry frowns as he sits down to join them, “Why?”

Opening an eye, Bruce answers with a hoarse voice, “A string of bank robberies last night in Gotham.”

Barry nods in understanding, “Always makes good TV.  I assume Batman showed up and saved the day?”  Barry then frowns in concern, “Did anyone get hurt?”

Bruce closes his eyes again, “No casualties.  All eight perps apprehended.”

Grinning, Barry does a small fist pump, “Good job B!”  However, realizing what he said, he starts stuttering, “As in Batman!  Go Batman, for clearly saving the day, like he always does.  Cause-”

Even with his eyes closed, Bruce easily presses a finger to Barry’s mouth to silence him, “Shhh, Barry. I am sleeping now.”

---

Secret: The Luthor-Waynes have access to the Zeta tubes.

This took a bit to notice because Barry wasn’t actually tracking the Luthor-Waynes.  (Should he have been?  Barry feels like that should be someone else's job.)  So, yeah, Barry didn’t really notice that they were conveniently able to live between two residences with minimal travel time.  And that they always seemed available at a drop of a hat. 

Unfortunately, it took a blatant use of the tubes for Barry to notice that the Luthor-Waynes had access to Fast Travel.  Specifically Lex leaving the Lex Tower only to show up in Japan for a LexCorp Live Broadcast fifteen minutes later. 

Barry didn’t consider that being married to the benefactor of the Justice League would have fringe benefits, like having access to to the Zeta tubes.  But that’s cool…  So cool...  But is it cool?  He’s just not sure if he should actually be concerned, and that’s what is concerning him.  You think the League would know if Lex had access to the Zeta tubes. Barry feels like he should bring it up, just in case.  

But...  Barry doesn’t want to bring it up to anyone.  And he definitely doesn't want to bring it up with the Luthor-Waynes, cause he doesn’t want the Luthor-Waynes to notice that Barry seems to be just as conveniently inhabiting both Central City and Metropolis.  And he doesn’t want the Luthor-Waynes to notice that Barry always seems to be just as available as they are.  Cause that’s going to be sooo easy to explain.  (Barry’s being sarcastic.  He gets sarcastic when he gets nervous.)

---

Secret: The Luthor-Waynes bicker like an old married couple. 

Well, they are married, so this is expected.  But what makes it unique is that when they bicker in front of Barry, they are so good at being vague, Barry is never sure what they are bickering about.  

 

“Bruce.  You will find room for it.”

Bruce frowns, “Lex, everything is optimally packed.  I have no more places to put it.”

Barry looks between the two men, eating a handful of candies.  Are they packing?  Going somewhere?  A vacation maybe?  Didn't they just go on one?

Lex crosses his arms and gives Bruce a smug look, “I’ve been monitoring your armory, and I have ran up statistics on what items you rarely use.  There are three items you use less than 5% of the time.  I see no reason you can’t allocate their space.”

Bruce scoffs, “I have also run statistics.  I only foresee myself using your Bonesetter 1% of the time.  The answer is no.”

Barry frowns.  Armory?  Statistics?  Bonesetter?! (Cool weapon name.  Barry hopes it is isn't a weapon.) Are they talking about a video game?  They both don't seem like video game players.  And that seems a bit too min-maxing, even for Barry.

Tension spreads between the two men, but then Bruce concedes, “If you can make it smaller, I will reconsider.”

Lex gives him a thoughtful look, “How small?”

Without thought, Bruce challenges, “Size of a baterang.”

Grinning at the challenge, Lex turns around and heads to his lab, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Barry is now really confused.   What the hell were they even talking about?  And who uses a baterang as a size of measurement?!

---

Secret: There is a secret Lex Luthor Science Club.

“Uncle Barry!”  

Barry is tackled as he gets off the elevator by a black haired ball of excitement.  In shock and a splash of horror, Barry picks her up, “Lian, what are you doing here?!”

Lian just grins at him, “We are going to blow our eyebrows off!”

Lex and Conner walk up to them.  Lex raises an eyebrow, “Lian, I thought you promised your father that you wouldn’t say that anymore.”

Lian turns to look at Lex, and says in mock innocence, “But.. he’s not here?”

Putting Lian down, Barry asks, “Wait, what’s this about blown off eyebrows?”

Grinning up at Barry, Lian says, “Conner and Lex and me are going to do lab science stuff!  Just like they promised!  Do you want to help?”

Not-a-Secret: Barry loves lab science stuff.

Barry grins, “Oh, you better believe it!  Let’s go blow off our eyebrows!”

Shaking his head in disappointment, Lex ushers Lian towards the lab, “Do not encourage her.”

Conner grins at him, “But I thought you said eyebrows are overrated?”

Lex sighs, “I did.  However, Dinah threatened an earful if I returned Lian less than perfect.”

Both Conner and Barry wince in sympathy.  Conner concedes, “Yeah, okay.  Eyebrows stay on.”  

When Lian pouts at them, Barry just grins, “Don’t worry!  We are still going to have fun, cause science is fun!”

When they get to the lab, Lex motions Barry over to one of the back tables, “Barry, I have had special gear made for Lian, would you please grab them.”

Barry skips over, “Sure thing!”

As he picks up the small, kid-sized lab coat, Barry grins.  (Oh my God, so cute!)  However, the grin falls off when Barry sees what’s sitting underneath it.

Oh.  

Oh no.

Secret: Luthor has the Watchtower generator blueprints.

---

Secret: Barry is trying not to freak out.

Secret: Barry doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

Secret: Barry is very kinda good at compartmentalizing.

The afternoon passes by in a confusing blur of childish science experiments, laughter, and back-burner terror.  However, the moment Barry steps outside of the Lex Tower, he runs away.  He runs and runs and runs.  They say you can’t run away from your problems.  As a man that can run through time, Barry knows that this is true first hand. But boy does he wish he could.  Thus, mournfully, after what feels like forever, he finally stops running.  He ends up in his safe, thinking space; his lab at work.  Cause Barry has some thinking to do.

What is he going to do?! (internal screaming)  

The thing is, Barry knows what he has to do.  He needs to report it.  That was exactly what this mission was about.  Look for nefarious proof.  Which he found.  He needs to tell the League all he knows.  

But Barry doesn’t want to do it.

Barry likes the Luthor-Waynes.  And Barry believes, truly believes that Lex is a good person now.  And they are friends.  (And Barry has so few!)  Barry just knows there has to be a good reason.  There has to be a good reason why Lex has one of the League’s blueprints.  A blueprint to the very thing that keeps the Watchtower floating in space.  A blueprint that Batman would never let out of his sight…  

Oh man, this is bad...  (internal groaning)  

Not wanting to Unable to come to a decision, Barry distracts himself by pulling up some old cold case files.  Nothing like an impossible-to-solve case to get his mind off his own impossible-to-solve problem.

Barry spends hours digging through the old files.  But they are cold cases for a reason, so all Barry does is work himself up in a tizzy.  So wrapped up in his thoughts (and internal dilemma), Barry is startled out of his distracted daze by a soft knock on his lab door.  When he looks up, Barry tries not to cry scream run away emote.  Standing in the doorway with a Big Belly bag in hand is Bruce Wayne.  Trying to keep the emotions from his face and voice, Barry greets softly, “Hey Bruce.”  (Barry fails, badly.)

Bruce doesn’t enter, stays standing in the doorway as he says just as softly, “Hey Barry.  Lex said you didn’t stay for dinner?”

Barry scoffs, his voice self-deprecating, “Of course.  Silly, predicable Barry, you forgot to eat.”

Hearing the tone, Bruce frowns.  He slowly enters the room, approaching Barry with clear, slow movements.  Barry tries not to bolt as his brain goes on overdrive.  ‘Oh my god, he’s treating me like a wild animal.  Omg, he knows!  But what does he know?!  I don’t even know, how can he know!   You know nothing Jon Snow!’ 

Barry’s mental tirade is cut short when Bruce crotches in front of Barry’s chair.  As Bruce looks up at Barry, in a firm but kind voice Bruce orders, “Tell me what’s wrong Barry.”

Oh. Oh no. Barry knows that look.  That’s the concerned dad look.  That’s the look his dad gives him when he thinks Barry is wasting his time on him, his own dad!  That is the concerned look Joe gives him when he knows Barry is lying to him.  That’s the concerned look the League gives him when they do wellness checks.  That is the look of someone that would move the earth for you if you’d just tell them where.

And Barry has a dad.  He technically has two dads!   And Barry is a grown man!  But seeing Brucie Wayne looking at him with such concern, such conviction, Barry realizes that he is maybe kinda.. starting to think of Bruce Wayne as a fatherly figure.  And that’s what makes this betrayal that much worse. 

Oh no!  That’s what this is!  It’s going to be a betrayal!  And he's the betrayer! Barry’s never betrayed someone before.  And definitely not a friend, friends! This suckksss... 

Looking into Bruce’s concerned face, Barry can't stop himself from letting out a jumbled rambling confession, “I can’t keep secrets!  I’ve never been good about it!  And I have people, my people, and I tell them everything and they know everything, ALL of my secrets.  Yet I haven’t talked to them lately cause I’m afraid I’ll slip up and tell them your secrets, and I don’t want to do that, cause they are your secrets, and that’s an abuse of trust.  But now I have to go talk to my people, and I’ll end up telling them ALL the things.  I have to tell them everything, and I’m sorry.  I don’t want to but I have to.  I can’t keep your secrets anymore.”

Barry has to forcefully shut his mouth to stop his rambling.  With his hands clamped over his mouth, Barry stares at Bruce with wide eyes, waiting to see Bruce’s betrayed angry disappointed reply.

But Bruce just gives Barry a curious look and asks, "What secrets?”

Barry frowns, “Your secrets!  Yours and Lex’s.  I know things.  About you!  I’ve seen things!”

And Bruce just chuckles at him, “That doesn’t mean they are secrets.  That just means you know things about us.   We invited you into our lives so you could know these things, because you are our friend.  We wanted you to know about us and our lives.”

Confused and frustrated, Barry throws up his hands, “But!  But!  But that would mean that your lives are…”  Getting lost in thought, Barry just blurts out his greatest concern.  “Watchtower blueprints!”  However, Bruce seems unfazed as he patiently waits for Barry to continue.  Even more confused, Barry starts to flounder, blurting out everything that he can recall from the last two few months.  “That means your lives are..  are...  Conner!  And and..  And Zeta tubes!”

Slowly, in the back of his mind, a thought starts to niggle.  And as he thinks about it, Barry feels realization and horror slow his thoughts and his words.  “And.  And baterangs.  And bank robberies.. And....” 

Barry is stunned.  Barry is confused.  Barry is terrified.  Almost in a trance, Barry slowly wheels his chair away from Bruce, keeping his eyes glued to the man in front of him.  Then, slowly, inch by inch, Barry raises his hand in front of him, blocking Bruce’s face from his sight until he only sees Bruce’s lips and chin.  

Just looking at the lower half of Bruce’s face, Barry can’t see it, though it could be the unfamiliar soft smirk on those lips.  Still not understanding sure, Barry separates his ring and middle finger just enough so he can see Bruce’s eyes through the gap.  Nope, not good enough, but that could be because there’s a glint of humor and mischief in those eyes which Barry doesn’t recognize. (Though he does now.)  Still unable to believe the truth idea, Barry orders Bruce, “Say it.  I won’t believe it if you don’t say it.”

In a flash, the humorous glint and the soft smirk vanish, leaving behind a stiff, deadpan face that Barry finally, truly recognizes.  And those lips open to tell the secret truth in a harsh, gravely voice.  “I”m Batman.”

Secret: Bruce Wayne is Batman.

Barry does the only thing he can think of.  He flings himself at Batman, wrapping his arms around Bruce in a tight hug. 

And as Bruce returns the hug, Barry sobs, “Batman, I didn’t know what I was going to do!  I didn’t want to betray you.  And I didn’t want to betray Lex!   But there was just so much stuff going on.  But I felt bad cause I had to do my job!  And that meant hurting you two.  And I thought I was going to be sick.  You two didn’t deserve that, us coming into your lives then making a mess about it.  I felt so bad.  And now knowing its you, I feel double bad.  But that means you knew, so I should feel less bad?  But I felt bad because I actually like you.  And I actually like Lex Luthor!”

Barry can feel Bruce chuckle as Bruce says, “It's okay Barry.  I like him too.”  

Barry scoffs as he finally, slowly pulls away, “Of course you do.  You married him.”  And with that idea, Barry’s head breaks.

“Oh my god, Batman married Lex Luthor!  Oh.  Oh!”  The idea causes Barry to beam at Bruce, “You two love each other!”  Barry latches onto Bruce’s arm, though he forcibly refrains from actually shaking Batman Bruce.  “How did that happen!  You have to tell me!”

Gently removing Barry’s hands from his arm, Bruce says, “That is a long story.”  However, instead of getting up, Bruce sits back against the desk and grabs the discarded Big Belly bag.  He pulls out a burger and hands it to Barry as he says, “But, as our friend, I believe it's a story you deserve to hear."

Barry tries not to squee.

Secret: Barry is friends with Batman.

 

After an hour of them eating and Bruce telling the story of his and Lex's love life, Bruce eventually gets up and dusts himself off to leave.  After another hug and plans for the next hang out, Bruce heads out.  However, he pauses at the door, "And Barry?"

Barry waits, afraid curious about what Bruce is going to say.

"That case on your desk.  Tellerium could explain that distinct smell of garlic.  You should check if any of the suspects had access to it." 

Confused, Barry looks down at the case file.  Bruce would have only had a few seconds to even look at the file, and he...  Shocked, Barry snaps his head up to look but Bruce is already gone.  Barry tries not to gape.

Secret: Batman Bruce Wayne has photographic memory.

Secret: Batman Bruce Wayne is a skilled at multiple tasking.

Secret: Batman Bruce Wayne is the World’s Greatest Detective.

Secret: Barry is friends with Batman Bruce Wayne, the World’s Greatest Detective.

…

..

.

Secret: Barry is trying not to freak out.

Chapter 31: The King, Part 1

Summary:

Cards and conspiracies do mix!

Sometimes Arthur feels like a fish out of water.  

Har har, get your laugh out.  

But what can he do about it?  The saying is disappointingly accurate, being that he is the King of an underwater nation, and he rarely has time to be topside leisurely.  So, yeah, Arthur tends to be out of the loop on important things happening dirtside.  But he is not the only Leaguer that has this problem. With Hal’s Lantern work taking him across the universe at a drop of a hat, both Arthur and Hal usually need to play catch-up whenever they make it to a League meeting.  

Thus, as an offer to help them, Oliver initiated Poker Night.  After every meeting in the Watchtower, the three of them would meet up, play a few hands, talk shop (or talk shit, depending on how the meeting went), and Oliver would fill them in on all of the major happenings of the world.  With Ollie’s help, especially because he’s thee Oliver Queen, Arthur would say that he had a good grasp of the rich and famous gossip mill.  So during the meeting when he found out that the Luthor-Wayne’s got married, Arthur definitely felt left out of the know.  And from the glare Hal gave Oliver, he isn’t the only one.

---

Oliver doesn’t even get into the game room before Hal is flicking cards at him.  With each flicker, Hal barks out, “What. The. Fuck. Oliver.” Oliver just laughs, shielding himself with the six pack he is carrying. Hal doesn’t stop flicking as he accuses, “Seriously!  How long were the two richest men in the world dating, and we didn’t know about it?!”  

Oliver snatches a card midair and flicks it back at Hal, hitting him in the forehead. “Calm down Slick, they weren’t even dating.”  

At the hit and the statement, Hal stops with a frown, rubbing his forehead, “So what?  They straight up eloped?” 

With the card assault stopped, Oliver stoops to pick up the fallen cards, “Yep.  No one saw it coming.”  As he straightens, Oliver frowns, “Well, not to that extent.”

Hal snorts, “Well, you better fill us in, Ollie.  Art and I just committed to a mission we don’t know jack shit about.”

Oliver raises his hand to placate, “I will.  In the meantime, I bought a peace offering.”  He sets the six pack down on the table.  

Pulling a bottle from the box, Arthur reads the name, “God’s Tidings?”

Sitting down, Oliver grabs the rest of the cards and starts sorting them with a grin, “A friend of mine is dabbling in beer brewing. Thought I’d share a sample.”

Hal grumbles as he opening a bottle, “Great.  This’ll taste like shit, won’t it?”

Oliver chuckles, “Most likely the opposite.  If there’s one thing my friend succeeds at, it’s everything.”  With the last of the cards sorted, Oliver holds up the deck, “So, do you want Gossip Corner, or do you want Mission Statement?”  Both Hal and Arthur open their mouths to answer, but Oliver holds up a hand to stop them, “If we do Mission Statement, I will ask for a Devil’s Advocate.”

Hal and Arthur’s mouths snap shut as they look at each other in silent debate.  Oliver waits two seconds before he starts in a high pitched, valley girl accent, “So, like oh my god!  It all started last year, at Christmas time!”

Horrified, Hal conjures up a green strip of duct tape and slaps it over Oliver’s mouth.  Oliver’s laugh can still be heard through the construct, a muffled cackle.  Hal groans, “Why?  Why must you punish us?!”

Arthur chuckles at the antics, but concedes, “I’ll be Devil’s Advocate.  Just tell us what we need to know, Oll.”

With his mouth freed, Oliver begins by pulling the King of Spades from the deck of cards in a flourish.  “Let’s start with the Prince of Gotham himself, Bruce Wayne.”  He sets the card down on the table.  “Orphaned at a young age, Wayne is known for his playboy lifestyle and almost Pavlovian habit to adopt orphans in their times of need.  He’s a floozy, a bleeding heart, an ignorant fool.”  

Hal snorts, “And you are friends with that?”

Oliver doesn’t reply.  Instead, he slowly turns to his appointed Devil’s advocate, waiting patiently with a deadpan face for Arthur to reply.  Arthur smirks and answers Hal with a shrug, “Well, he’s friends with you, so..”

Hal puts his hand over his chest in mock disbelief, “Ahk!  I am a delight!”

Oliver smirks, “Well, I never have to cover Bruce’s tab.”  Oliver ignores Hal’s squawk of defense, instead continues his debriefing, “Let me tell you about the Wayne kids, just in case you meet any of them.”  He sets the Jack of Hearts down, “First up is Richard ‘Richie’ Wayne.”

Arthur nods to the card, “This the CEO kid?”

Oliver answers, “Yes, but the new one.  I told you two about the Drake incident?”

Hal nods as he uses the ring to snatch a bag of popcorn from the kitchen, “Yeah.  He got fired, right?  Said he wasn’t the right ‘fit’.  Just means he wasn’t good at the job.”

Sighing at Oliver’s expecting look, Arthur refutes, “You can be good at a job and still get fired.”

Hal tosses a piece of popcorn at Arthur and then at Oliver, “Whatever.  Continue.  What do we need to know about Richie Rich?”

Grabbing a beer and opening it, Oliver shrugs, “The first of the Wayne kids, the Golden child.  He grew up in his father’s shadow, so he has quite a bit of Bruce’s tendencies, but he’s not as eccentric.  The kid’s real likeable.  Like, Barry, Starfire, Nightwing likeable.  If you meet him, you’ll have no problems getting the kid to talk.  However, now that he’s CEO, you probably won’t see the hide or hair of him.”

Oliver takes a drink before continuing, “Speaking of hide and hair, let’s talk about the Illusive Waynes.  Some of Bruce’s kids are almost non-existent when it comes to the spotlight. Minimal social media, a complete vanishing act.  To the point some people don’t think they actually exist.  So the chances of you meeting them are low.”  He puts down two cards, the Jack of Clubs and the Queen of Hearts,  “Jason Todd-Wayne and Cassandra Wayne.”

Looking at the cards in thought, Hal points at the Jack of Clubs with a frown, “Ain’t that the dead, not dead kid?”

Swatting at Hal’s arm, Oliver tuts, “Yeah.  They thought he was dead, turned out he wasn’t.  Since then, he’s been pretty much off the grid, avoiding punks like you.”

Hal gives Oliver a knowing look, “Hit a nerve, Ollie?”

Oliver sneers, “No.”

Seeing Oliver trying not to be defensive, Arthur guesses, “Either he reminds you of Roy, or he’s one of Roy’s friends?”  Oliver tries not to frown, but fails.  Arthur chuckles and raises his drink to Hal in salute, “Both.”

Oliver glares, “You are supposed to be on my side.”

Leaning back and taking a drink, Arthur grins, “I’m on no one’s side but the Devil’s.”

More popcorn rains down upon them as Hal tries to get them back on topic, “Doesn’t matter.  I’ll keep judging him, cause according to you, I probably will never meet him.  Tell me about a Wayne kid I might actually meet.”

Oliver pushes the popcorn scattered across the table away and puts down the Jack of Diamonds.  “Tim Drake.  The first CEO kid.  He’s not actually one of Wayne’s, but he’s a neighbor that got roped into the Wayne shenanigans.   There’s some pros and cons if you meet him.  Pros.  He is a Wayne just by association.  He’s currently working for Lex Luthor.  Con.  This kid is one sharp cookie.  Don’t play him for a fool, he will call you out and then lay you flat.”

Hal sits up a little straighter, “Wait, he’s working for Luthor?  Damn, he must be smart.”

Playing his part, Arthur frowns, “Or.  Luthor is using him to get close to Wayne.”

At that, Hal tips his beer at Arthur, his face an impressed look, “Touche.”

Oliver holds up a hand, “Let’s save the conspiracies for after the intel.”

Hal snorts, “What is this, an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

Oliver gives Hal an unamused look, but moves on, putting down the Queen of Diamonds.  “Next is Stephanie Brown-Wayne.  She’s nice, energetic, likeable.  But don’t expect much information out of her.  She’s the kind of person that you can spend hours talking to, and she will learn everything about you, but you learned nothing about her.”

Both Arthur and Hal frown when Oliver pauses before putting down the next card, the Jack of Spades.  “The last kid is Bruce’s only biological kid, Damien Wayne.  He used to be one of the Illusives, but he’s been showing up more lately in the public’s eye.  Truthfully, I’d just tell you to avoid him.  Many consider him too aggressive, easily offended, and very entitled.”

Hal nods his head sagely, “Ah.  Rich kid syndrome.”

Arthur frowns, trying to come up with a defense, but shrugs, “I’d say just Only Kid Syndrome, but sounds like he has plenty of siblings.”

Oliver gives Arthur a inquisitive look, “Actually, you are closer than you think, but unfortunately, it’s not my story to tell.”  He then lays down the Ace of Clubs.  “Last of the Waynes is their butler, Alfred Pennyworth.  Bruce’s second father, in all but name.  This man is a gentleman and a saint.  If you can get Alfred to trust you, you are golden in the Wayne family.”

Hal leans forward, “But let me guess.  Mum’s the word?”

Chuckling, Oliver nods, “Unfortunately, yes.  Alfred would rather die than give away the Waynes’ secrets.”  

Hal blows a raspberry at the card, “Fine.  If that’s all the Waynes, anyone on Luthor’s side we should know about?”

With a sigh, Oliver puts down the King of Diamonds, “Unfortunately, Luthor’s circle of people is almost non-existent.  Luthor is known for his extensive business and scientific expertise as well as his strong ‘political world’ views.  He’s an intellect, a cold-hearted businessman, an evil mastermind.”  

The last card on the table is the Queen of Clubs.  “The only person that has been in Luthor’s corner has been Mercy Graves, his bodyguard.  Don’t even bother going through her.  She is as tight lipped as Alfred, and she’s more inclined to break bones if she thinks you are being less than genuine.”

Hal smirks, “That’s it?  He has no friends?  Or family?”

Arthur frowns, “Neither did Wayne.  Alfred is an employee, and the rest of his family were kids he adopted.”  He then gives Oliver a look,  “But, you are both of their friends?”

Picking up the cards, Oliver nods slowly, “I am.”

Hal waves his hand at Oliver, “But like, are you actually friends with them or is it one of those ‘oh, you’re rich?!  I’m rich too!’ moments?”

Snorting, Oliver starts dealing out a hand of poker, “Well, I would be lying if I said it was entirely the later.”

Hal sits up straight, causing more popcorn to skitter across the table, “Wait!  You would openly admit that you ‘could’ be friends with Luthor?!” 

Sweeping some popcorn into his hand, Arthur interjects, “So Ollie, what’s your take on them getting married?”

Oliver shakes his finger at Arthur, “Nope, I’m not letting my opinion tarnish yours.” 

Hal flicks popcorn at Oliver as he retorts angrily, “That’s why you wanted a Devil’s Advocate!  For every opposing theory, it would make it look like you weren’t altering our opinions!”

Giving a knowing smirk, Oliver turns to Arthur to refute it.  Arthur gives Oliver a put upon look as he tries to come up with a good counter, “Or Oliver knew that we would correctly choose the truth, and hearing the opposite would reinforce our resolve?”

Hal starts throwing popcorn at Arthur, “Bullshit.  Are you hearing the bullshit coming out of your mouth.  That didn’t even make proper sense.”

Arthur starts to catch the popcorn in his mouth.  Around his mouthful, he says, “Or, it made so much sense, you don’t want to admit it made sense!”

Seeing that Arthur isn’t taking his popcorn assault seriously, Hal stops, “You can’t be Devil’s Advocate anymore.  You bad at it.”

Chuckling, Arthur starts to say, “Or I am so good at it-”

The duct tape makes a second appearance as Hal picks up his hand of cards. As he inspects the hand, he off-handedly waves over to Oliver, “So, since Mr. ’I’m so neutral, I’m biased’ won’t give us his opinion, let’s break out the conspiracy theories.  I say Luthor married Wayne cause he wants the League to flounder financially.”

Picking up his own cards, Oliver frowns, “On what claims?  That he’s going to somehow convince Wayne to stop funding us?  It’s not like there’s another rich billionaire that wouldn’t pick up the slack.”

Hal bats his eyes at Oliver, “Oh, I knew you loved us.”  As he folds, Hal looks Oliver squarely in the face and asks, “Can we all agree that we believe Luthor married Wayne specifically because of the Justice League?”  Seeing Oliver pause, Hal gasps in horror, “No!”  

Oliver shrugs and says softly, “What if I told you…”

Hal gasps again as he points at Oliver, “Don’t you dare!”

Oliver grins a shark’s grin and belts out in song, “I believe in a thing called love!”

Gritting his teeth, Hal is unable to stop himself as he finishes the lyrics loudly, “Just listen to the rhythm of my heart!” Cursing, he shakes his finger at Oliver, “Shame.  Shame on you.  And seriously.  You think Luthor married Wayne cause he loves him?  Are you kidding me?!  That is unbelievable.”  Hal grabs another beer and opens it, mumbling to himself.

However, Oliver just slowly turns to Arthur, looking at him and waiting.  It takes Arthur a few seconds to realize why, and he blinks in surprised.  Slowly, Arthur says, “As unbelievable as Wayne marrying Luthor for love.”

Hal snorts around his beer, barely avoiding breathing it in.  “What?!”

Arthur holds up a hand to stop Hal, “Think about it.  We’ve been so wrapped up in wondering why Luthor married Wayne.  But not why Wayne married Luthor.”

Thinking for a second, Hal slowly nods his head, “Actually.  I can see Wayne marrying Luthor for love.  He has a penchant for adopting kids.  Maybe trying to fill a hole in his parentless heart?”

Arthur flinches, “Ouch.  Fucking dick move, man.  Besides, Oll said the butler is like a father to Wayne.”

Hal shakes his head and a finger at Arthur, “Nope.  A butler does not a father make.”

Crossing his arms in disapproval, Arthur glares, “Real dick move.”  He then pauses, and tilts his head at Hal, “Do you believe that Wayne loves his kids?”

Hal has to think about it for a second, but he concedes, “Yes.  For as much as that man can.”

Nodding, Arthur asks, “Do you believe he would put all his kids through the mess of just randomly marrying Luthor?”

Hal opens his mouth but pauses.  He then continues factually, “I do not believe he would realize the consequences of his actions.”  

Smirking, Arthur counters, “Yet they would.  And they were all at the wedding.  Meaning it was planned.”

Hal frowns as he taps a finger against his cheek, “Still doesn’t feel right.”  Hal pauses to think, then guesses, “What if Wayne did it for publicity? For Wayne Enterprises?”

Arthur shakes his head, “Nah, he’s not CEO anymore.”

Hal interjects, “But he’s still a board member, and a brand ambassador.  Can’t rule it out.”  Then an idea strikes him and he gasps, “What if Wayne’s dying?!”  He turns to Oliver, “Can we get his medical files?”

Oliver smirks, “I’m sure that Bats would have told us if our benefactor was dying.”

Hal snorts, “You think they would tell us if our benefactor was getting married.”  He then points his finger at Arthur, “Ha!  If this wedding was planned, the Bats would have known about it.”

Arthur considers it, but then says, “What if it wasn’t their secret to tell?”  Seeing Hal’s considering look, Arthur continues, “Wayne is our benefactor, and Batman’s.  That means he probably knows Batman’s identity.  So, maybe B felt he had to keep Wayne’s secrets in kind.”

Hal stops him, “But keep Luthor's secrets as well?!  Nooo.... That would mean that Batman knew that Wayne was dating/marrying Luthor.  And he allowed it?  Was okay with it?!  That they had Batman’s blessing?!”  Hal starts waving both hands in front of him, “Nope.  No more.  I’m done.  All these conspiracies are crazy.  I’m just going to wait and find out the truth.  Any more of this will just break my brain.”

Oliver chuckles as he deals the next hand, “And how do you want to do it, Hal?  Meeting the Luthor-Waynes?”

Hal groans as he sinks into his chair, “I don’t care.  Just make sure there’s a lot of booze.  I will need to be drunk to deal with this shit.”

Oliver turns to Arthur, “How about you, you still good?  If you want, I can just introduce you two together instead.”

Looking over his hand, Arthur frowns as he thinks. Slowly, he shakes his head, “Nah, I got a plan.” 

Seeing Arthur in thought, Oliver asks with suspiciously, “Is it a good plan?”

Arthur shrugs, “I don’t think it’s a bad plan.”

Hal snorts, “That doesn’t answer the question.”

Smirking, Arthur goes all in, “Or it did answer the question, just not to your satisfaction."

Hal throws the bag of popcorn at Arthur’s head.

“I will banish you, Devil!”

Notes:

Hey everybody! Sorry for the delay; last week was crazy, and this week isn't starting out much better. However, I was still able to write you this chapter, though it is so much shorter then what I wanted. QQ I hope you still enjoyed it.

Chapter 32: The King, Part 2

Summary:

Shovel talk and magic don’t mix.

Arthur Curry is not a subtle person.  Everything he does tends to be big and bold.  He’s the kinda guy that brings a kraken to a knife fight.  So yeah, the Leagues are fools if they expect him to handle things ‘quietly’ or ‘with finesse’.  It’s not that he is against it per say, it’s just not how he rolls.  Even before he was made King, he didn’t care for shady, secretive methods.  And now that he is King, he just doesn’t have the time to play this out the way the League wants.   

So yeah, Arthur has a plan.  Might not be a good plan, but it’s a plan nonetheless.  A big, bold plan that might backfire.  But whatever, Arthur’s gonna risk it.  Cause this plan is the best he can think of to get the information he needs quickly.  Cause while Arthur might not be a subtle man, he’s learned a lot by being King.  Specifically, Arthur has gotten real good at noticing subtle things, especially subtle things from tight-lip, straight-faced megalomaniacs. All Arthur needs is the perfect opportunity to get close and put his plan into action.  

---

Arthur gets his chance on a late April day, on the icy piers of Maine.  It is there that he spots Luthor alone, standing next to an old brewery building.  The man is on his phone, completely unaware that he is being watched.  This gives Arthur time to psych himself up.  Anytime you have to deal with Luthor, you have to be mentally prepared.  The biggest obstacle when dealing with Luthor is remembering Luthor is the master of distracting you from the truth by using facts.  Feeling ready, Arthur jumps out of the water and lands on the pier ten feet from Luthor.  When Luthor looks over, the first thing Arthur notices is that Luthor doesn’t seem surprised by Arthur’s appearance.  Maybe he wasn’t so unaware as Arthur thought.

Leaning casually against the trident, Arthur gives a jerk of a nod, “Sup.”

At the greeting, Lex’s shoulders soften just a little.  Arthur tries not to smirk at the barely visible proof that Luthor wasn’t as calm as he portrayed.  Either way, it’s a good start for Arthur’s plan.

Luthor asks, his words calm and formal, though there is an undercurrent of curiosity in his words, “What can I do for you today, Aquaman?”  

Arthur shrugs, “Came for a couple reasons.  Got a few things to discuss with you.”

Luthor seems more surprised by that than when Arthur jumped out of the ocean.  Luthor tilts his head in invitation, “I would be happy to indulge you.”

But instead of talking, Arthur waits.  An important part of Arthur’s plan is knowing how megalomaniacs think.  And one thing megalos love is talking.  It’s almost as if they are afraid of the silence.  Putting more weight on his trident, Arthur waits.  With his eyes locked with Luthor, as the seconds tick by, Arthur watches as Luthor’s eyebrow slowly arches up.  Luthor’s smile starts turning into a sharp smirk as he realizes the challenge.  In silence, the two stare each other down.  

Right as the silence starts to become too heavy, it is broken by a crash coming from the brewery building.  Arthur looks to the building, but Luthor seems unbothered by the noise.  Looking back to Luthor, Arthur shrugs, “Alright, I’ll bite.  What are you doing here Luthor?”

Giving no indication that he won the stare down, Luthor nods to the building, “Part of a business venture.  I recently purchased a beer company to sponsor my new line.  In exchange, they ask that I help finance and reopen this old brewery.”

Huh .  That was not what Arthur expected to hear.  However, his look turns a little disbelieving as he looks Luthor over, “So you are just standing out here, creeping?”

Luthor chuckles, “It may seem that way.  This building has been closed for decades, so we are investigating air contaminants and building structure.  I’m waiting for the last scanners to be installed.”

Arthur frowns, “You are doing that here? Don’t you have people to do this stuff?”

With a shrug, Luthor answers truthfully, “This is a personal project for me, so I felt the need to be a bit more hands on.”

Before Arthur can learn more, a window on the second floor of the build opens up. A voice cares down to them, ““Hey Lex, I know this will sound crazy,”  A head sticks out the window, their black and white hair blowing in the wind, “But I thought I heard Aquaman….”  As the man sees Arthur, he pauses in muted surprise.  “Huh, so I did.”  Arthur is unsure which is more impressive/concerning; that the man could identify him by his voice, or he seemed indifferent to seeing Aquaman was actually here.  The man looks back to Luthor, “I’m coming down.”

Luthor asks, “Did you put the last-”  However the man ducks back into the building, causing Luthor to sigh.

Arthur asks, “He a fan?”

Taking a few steps back, Luthor answers, “He does have your costume.”  

Arthur snorts at the factual distraction, but asks, “From the wedding?”  Luthor nods, but before Arthur can ask another question, there is a swoosh of fabric above them.  Arthur looks up just in time to see the man jump through the window and fall to the ground between them.  From the man’s landing to the smirk he is wearing, it's easy to see he’s done this before.  Many times.

As the man stands up from his landed crouch, he turns to Arthur to give a two-fingered wave.  However, Arthur notices that the man’s turn had specifically placed himself between Arthur and Luthor.  Huh .

Indifferent to the landing, Lex asks the man again, “Were you able to put up the last of the sensors?”

The man nods, handing Luthor a tablet, “Yep, they should all be good to go.”

Instead of taking the tablet, Luthor frowns down at it.  Then in a terse, disappointed voice he says, “Jason, were you not wearing gloves when you went in.”

Jason shrugs, “Eh, kept getting in the way, had to take them off.”

Luthor’s frown deepens in concern.  With a sigh, he takes the tablet and motions, “Let me see your hands.”  While he inspects the dust and rust covered hands, Luthor asks in a clinical voice, “When was your last tetanus booster?”

Jason smirks, “I’m sure you’ve asked me that this morning.”

Luthor just looks up at Jason with a knowing look, “And I’m sure I’d like to hear the answer again.”  

Arthur chuckles at such a parental statement coming from Luthor.  Jason gives him a deadpan look as he replies, “A year ago.”

Luthor hums at the answer. Such a simple note carrying with it fond disappointment that reminds Arthur of his father.  Huh .

Intentionally distracting Luthor, Jason turns back to Arthur, “So Aquaman, what are you doing here?”

Arthur smirks at the kid’s distraction, but it’s Luthor that answers deadpan, “He was curious why I was creeping.”

Jason chuckles, “Well, you do creep well.”

Luthor finally pushes Jason’s hands away.  “Jason, would you please go retrieve your father?”  

Hearing that Wayne is here, Arthur stands up a little straighter.  Wayne is the grenade pin in his plan.  Wayne is key to whether this whole plan will blow up in Arthur’s face or not.  If he is amendable, Wayne could be a key source of information.  However, if he thinks, or Luthor tells him, that Arthur is being anything but cordial, there could be huge consequences.  Hmm.  This could be bad.  

Luthor continues, “Tell him we will be having lunch at that quaint pub we saw the next pier over.”

Or it could be fine?  Doesn’t sound like Luthor was calling for backup. 

Jason snorts, “Quaint?  It was a shack.  That’s falling apart.  Into the ocean.”

Refusing to take the bait, Luthor just smiles with a clear dismissal, “Thank you Jason.”

Arthur frowns.  Luthor doesn’t want the kid here, but Arthur is unsure why.  It’s clear that the kid likes Luthor, and vice versa: from the kid subconsciously protecting Luthor, to Luthor’s care and concern over the kid’s wellbeing.  

Jason walks away, but turns back around as he leaves, “Great!  We can all get tetanus boosters together!”  

With that, Arthur and Luthor are left alone again.  Luthor then motions down the pier, “Arthur, walk with me?”  At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Luthor smirks, “You said there were multiple reasons for your presence.  I would hear them.”  

Not expecting Luthor to be so considering, Arthur scoffs with a shake of his head, “Okay.”

Clearly heading to the next pier, they walk in silence.  Arthur’s not exactly out of his depth, but he feels with how cordial Luthor is being, Arthur might want to reconsider his approach.  However, he has never been a man of tact, so he ends up sticking the course, bluntly asking, “You know marrying our benefactor looks super suspicious, right?”

Clearly unbothered, Luthor just chuckles, “And here I thought, according to the League, everything I did was suspicious.”

Arthur snorts, “Look, I know that lately you haven’t been a terror, but come on.  You have to know we would come snooping over something this big.”

Luthor just shrugs, “Oh, I knew you would.  I just didn’t expect the League to be so forward about it.”  He pauses then gives Arthur a sideward glance with a smirk, “Or, are only you being so bold?”

That smart smarmy bastard.  Luckily, Luthor isn’t the only one that can lie with facts.  Arthur placates, “Look, you don’t have to expect Batman or Superman to come knocking.  But if you seriously thought we weren’t going to get involved….”  He lets the sentence hang, not actually in the mood to insult the man. Luthor hums thoughtfully, causing Arthur to blurt out, “What?”

Luthor stops walking and turns to Arthur, “I will be truthful, I did have concerns about marrying Bruce due to the League.  But he explained to me that while his involvement with the League was paramount, the League’s involvement in his personal life was negligible.”

Arthur silent curses.  Cause it’s true.  But while that is true, it feels like a trap.  For if he denies it, he would be calling Wayne a liar. But if he agrees with it, it would be admitting that the League had little interest in Wayne, besides his money.  Arthur can’t stop himself from thinking about what Superman said during the meeting.

While Wayne is our benefactor, he is not just a money source, but a figurehead and representative to the Justice League.  His well-being is our well-being.

Arthur’s starting to doubt that. And it must have shown on his face, cause Luthor says plainly, “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.  Even if Bruce does feel that way, I’m sure it’s not your fault.  You seem a very busy man Mr. Curry.”  With that, Luthor continues walking.

As Arthur watches him walk away, he frowns.  Who’s fault is it then?

---

They continue the rest of the way in silence.  When they get to the pub, Arthur snorts, “Heh, kid was right.  This place is dinky.”

Luthor looks over the building, “Indeed, it is not the prettiest.  However, it’s one of the closest places that can accommodate my dietary restrictions.”

Arthur goes to ask more but is interrupted by a slick black car whipping into the parking lot.  Once it parks, Jason and Wayne…  Bruce steps out.  Seeing Arthur, Bruce asks excitedly, “Aquaman!  What are you doing here?!”

Lex answers deadpan, “He’s come to give me the shovel talk.”

Shit.

Arthur can feel his plan crumble around him as he waits to see how Bruce answers to such a blatant answer.

The billionaire just walks up to them and claps Luthor on the shoulder as he says jokingly to Arthur, “Better make it a good one, Aquaman!  I’m sure he’s heard dozens by now.”

Arthur noticed that, in similar fashion to Jason, Wayne Bruce has positioned himself slightly between Luthor and Arthur.  Bruce is just as protective of Luthor.  Huh . 

Luthor puts a hand on Bruce’s arm and says plainly, “Actually…”

This causes Bruce to whip around and gap at Luthor in surprise, “What?! Is this the first one?!”

At Luthor’s shrug, Arthur frowns, “Wait, no one else shovel-talked you?  You?”

Bruce says heartbrokenly, yet overly dramatic, “It’s okay. I know I’m unlovable.”  He then drapes himself over Luthor, looking up at Luthor with a pout, “I would say he only married me for my money, but I’m poorer than him.”

Completely at home with Bruce hanging off of him, Luthor smirks down at Bruce.  His voice laced with humor, “Am I now?”

Bruce nods multiple times as he grouses, “Now that I’m not CEO, I’m destitute.”

At Arthur’s shocked look, Luthor shakes his head with a put upon look, “He’s not.”

Bruce refutes, “I could be.”  He then asks Luthor with another pout, “Would you still love me?”

Luthor sighs, but Arthur catches a micro smirk as Luthor says, “As you said, I didn’t marry you for your money.”

Perking up, Bruce demands coyly, “Was it my good looks?  My charm and wit?”

Arthur is starting to think deadpan humor is Luthor’s default setting as Luthor says dully, “Your children.  I will be taking them all in the divorce.”  Apparently Luthor has a wicked sense of humor.  Huh .

Bruce gasps, “But their mine!”  He then turns to Jason, grabbing him by the arms, “Jaylad, you can’t leave me.”  Bruce then pulls him into a hug as he wails in a voice that’s a little too real to be a joke, “You can’t leave me again.”  Didn't Hal say this was the dead, not dead kid? Oh, there’s deep emotional trauma there that Arthur wouldn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

Jason just pats Bruce on the back as he placates with a ridiculously fond voice, “You melodramatic llama.  I’m not going anyway, old man.”  At that, he slowly peels Bruce off of him as he motions towards the pub, “Except inside, it’s fucking freezing out here.”

While the pub is rundown and empty, the inside is warm and brightly lit.  As the group moves to the far back corner booth, Jason offers to get drinks and put in food order.  The moment Luthor is sitting, Bruce is next to him, cuddling into his side.  While Arthur can’t see what happened, Luthor hisses in discomfort, and Bruce says smugly, “Now who has cold hands?”

Luthor looks over to Bruce and says with a frown, “Bruce, do not start a fight you can not win.”  At Bruce’s defiantly smug look, Luthor slowly moves one of his hands to the back of Bruce's neck.  However, before he touches him, Bruce’s face turns calm, and he says fondly, “I love you.”

Like the winds were knocked out of his sails, Luthor gives Bruce a knowing look but lowers his hand.  “I love you too.”  Arthur can’t keep the surprise off of his face.  Someone is whipped.  Huh .

Bruce looks over to Arthur and gives a wink.   Bruce then asks Luthor, “So, was it a good shovel talk?  Are you now afraid to break my poor, broke heart?”

Luthor nods, voice void of emotion, “Terrified.  He threatened to sick Batman and Superman on me.”

At Bruce’s sharp guffaw, Arthur can only be impressed that not only is Luthor willing to joke about the League, but that Wayne seems okay with it.  Chuckling, Arthur feels he has to reply, “I didn’t actually threaten that.”

Luthor smirks, “In all honesty, it wouldn’t have been the worst shovel talk I have had.”  Arthur frowns.  What could possibly be worse than Batman and Superman?

Bruce sits up and grins at Lex, “So, someone did shovel talk you!”

Luthor gives Bruce a kind, fond look, “Of course. Your children do in fact love you more than me.”  

Bruce’s grin turns soft, “All of them?  Even Cass?”

Luthor nods, “All she said was ‘Be good’. Yet I felt that was more meaningful than all the rest.”   

Huh .  Arthur is having a hard time grasping that he believes Luthor meant that, and what did that actually mean now.  In distraction, Arthur asks Bruce, “What about you?  You get any shovel talks?”

Bruce gets a cocky grin, “Oh indeed, I got the holy lady trifecta of death threats.”  At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Bruce elaborates, “First was Lex’s bestie Mercy.  She gave me three separate shovel talks.  Then his PR lady, Angie gave me one.  She threatened something about a smear campaign so bad that my reputation would match the Gotham sludge I crawled out of?  Last was his lawyer, Jennie.  She said that prenups won’t stop her; If I break Lex’s heart, she would help Lex take everything I hold dear, including my kids.  And then she laughed in my face.  A true British evil villain cackle.”

Impressed by not only the threats, but the fact that Luthor had forged such loyalty, Arthur can’t stop his grin, “Nice. I like it.”  He then pauses to think.  If they signed prenups, than it is true that the wedding was planned.  Huh .

There is a lull in the conversation, so Arthur decides it's time for the final part of his plan.  “So, beside the shovel talk, I did come here for one more thing.”  He pauses and then says with a grin, “To wish you two congratulations.”  The surprise on both Bruce and Lex’s face is genuine.  Arthur’s grin widens, “And to give you your wedding gift.”

Yes, Arthur got them a wedding gift.  A simple, harmless gift.  But Arthur knows that he will learn a lot, all depending on how the gift is received.

Arthur pulls out a clam shell and sets it on the table.  Under the curious eyes of Bruce and Lex, Arthur presses down on the clam.  It opens and inside reveals, snugly set in finest fabric, two rings made of greenish black scales.  Looking Luthor directly in the eye, Arthur says bluntly, “In your wedding video, you two didn’t exchange rings.  And you aren’t wearing any right now.”

Instead of looking offended or upset at the blunt accusation, Luthor only looks impressed, ”We agreed against rings, they are just-”

Having heard many of his scientist and superhero friends say this, Arthur finds himself joining Luthor in saying, “accidents waiting to happen.”

Appreciating the understanding, Luthor nods with a smirk.  Luthor goes to pick up a ring, but the sound of a slap echoes in the booth when a hand clamps down on Luthor’s wrist in a tight grip, preventing him from touching the rings.  

Surprised, Arthur looks over to the owner of said hand and freezes.  

When Arthur gave the rings, he was banking on the rings causing a negative reaction from Luthor, if this marriage was anything but mutual-based on love.  However, Arthur made a mistake.  A serious mistake.  Arthur didn’t consider how Bruce would respond to the rings.  

Bruce’s expressive face is completely void of emotion, except for pure, unadulterated contempt.  His words are short and clipped, a dark, dangerous tone that in familiarity makes Arthur sit up straight and lean back in a defensive position. 

“Arthur Curry, are these rings magical?”

---

This plan has totally blown up in Arthur’s face.

Well Fuck.

Fuck!

Arthur is so fucked.

When Arthur said that Wayne was the grenade pin to his whole plan, he never knew, never even considered that Batman was the fucking grenade!  And fuck, did Arthur fucking pull that pin out. Cause two of Batman’s biggest problems is his need to know the unknown and his paranoia.  And Arthur Curry just tried to give Batman mystical magic rings as a wedding gift.  

Because of fucking course they are magic!  When Arthur thought about getting the Luthor-Waynes a wedding gift, he just had to make a big deal about it, just in case Luthor was on the up and up.  Arthur wanted the gift to be special and unique, yet harmless.  Something that the League’s figurehead could brag about for the world to see.  A priceless gift from the King of Atlantis.  

So yeah, Arthur had two rings specially forged for the occasion.  Two special, magical rings.  Made from the scales of Karathen.  That will magically conform to the wearer’s finger so meticulously that they are unable to get caught on anything.  Rings that could not be lost, or removed without the permission of the wearer.  Two totally harmless rings.  Except they aren’t harmless when you have the paranoia of Batman.  To Batman, you might as well have just handled him the live grenade instead.

...Fuck.

---

Batman’s question sucks all the air out of the booth.

“Arthur Curry, are these rings magical?”

Unfortunately, Arthur’s brain is still processing this bomb of information.  He points at Batman in confusion, “You?”  Then in disbelief, “You!”  He quickly looks over to Luthor, and then it really clicks.  Pointing at Batman, Arthur snorts, “You!  You married-”  He goes to point at Luthor, but Batman growls low, causing Arthur to stop short.  ..But that means....

Arthur points at Luthor, “You!”  Still looking at Luthor, he waves at Batman, “You married him?!”

Luthor gives Arthur a smirk, but Batman barks out, “Arthur!”  Once he has Arthur’s attention, Batman continues in clips words, his voice bitter, “Are. These. Magic?”

Arthur puts up his hands in defense, “Cool it Bats, they are harmless.”

Batman takes that as a yes.  However, surprisingly, he accepts Arthur’s claim that they are harmless.  It's surprising because Arthur is struck speechless; he can actually see Batman's entire face soften in acceptance.  Wow.  Batman without a mask is not subtle at all.  Because this isn’t Batman.  This is Bruce Wayne.

With his first, and most important, question answered, Bruce starts asking a series of questions without giving Arthur time to answer, “What do they do?  What are the negative effects? Are there permanent effects?  Can they be tracked?  What are they-”  

Bruce is interrupted by Jason as he approaches the table with a tray of beers, “So, they got..."  Jason stops when he looks at his dad.  He scoffs, "What the fuck happened?  I’m gone for two minutes and I come back to Batman?”

Bruce glares at him, but Luthor answers by turning the shell towards Jason to see, “Arthur gifted us a wedding gift.”

While Jason sets down the drinks, he inspects the rings, “Ohhh.  Bet they are magic.”  He looks over to Bruce, “That’d explain Bruce breaking character.”  Jason picks a ring up, “So, what do they do?”

Arthur snatches the ring before Jason can put it on, “Don’t do that.”

Jason scoffs, “Why, going to curse me?”

Looking at the ring in his hand, Arthur shrugs, “Don’t know.  But it wasn’t made for you, so it very well could.”

Jason just smirks, “Cool.”

Shaking his head, Arthur explains the rings and their magic.  Of course, Batman had a million questions.  What Arthur didn’t consider was Luthor would as well.  After fifteen minutes, apparently satisfied with all the answers, Bruce finally nods, “These are very thoughtful gifts Arthur.  Thank you.”  Bruce then puts both rings into the shell and closes them.

Frowning, Arthur asks, “Ain’t going to put them on?”

Bruce looks thoughtful as he says, “As you said, we didn’t exchange rings during the ceremony.”

Leaning back, Arthur nods, “Ah. I get it.  Want it to feel special.  Got something in mind?”

Luthor grins a shark’s grin, “Actually, we do.”

By the end of Lex and Bruce explaining their two part wedding plan, Arthur can’t keep the contempt look from his face.  “So, this was all an elaborate scheme to fuck with us?”

Bruce gets serious, “Of course not.  It was an organized drill to see how the team functions individually in a mission of infiltration and sensitive nature.”  He pauses and says dully, “You failed.”

Arthur can’t help the snort as he shakes his head, “Duh.”  He waits a second, then says, “Well, since my grade doesn’t matter anymore, I gotta ask....”  He leans forward, looking Luthor in the eye.  “Tell me about this beer you are brewing.  It any good?”

Luthor shrugs and says coyly, “You tell me, you’ve already had some.”

Arthur leans back in thought, "Well, there was...  You made God's Tidings?"  At Luthor's nod, Arthur chuckles to himself in disbelief.  Turns out Oliver was the Devil’s Advocate all along.

Notes:

Oh Arthur, you cool cat. I hope I did you justice. Hope y'all liked his 'not a bad' plan! :D

Chapter 33: The Pilot, Part 1

Summary:

Drinking and expos don't mix.

Notes:

Woot woot, new chapter! Sorry for the delay, y'all! November was crazy! But I'm back! And it's Hal's time!

---

Of course Hal is going to side with Clark.  It’s not that he's suspicious of Lex Luthor per say. 

...That’s a lie.  Hal’s super suspicious of Lex Luthor.

Over the years a lot of Earth’s, and the League’s, problems have come from Lex Luthor.  Come on, Luthor once created a robot army.  A whole army!  Just to take down the Justice League.  And people just shrug that off like that’s something normal for a bored, rich billionaire businessman to do.  Such bullshit.

So, yeah, Hal is totally on board for this snoopy ass shit.  Doesn’t mean that Hal’s going to like it.  And definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to do it sober. 

Hal might love Oliver, but being a rich man’s friend is an acquired taste.  From the class differences, to the blatant yet ignorant misuse of money, to the well-meaning but ultimately demeaning pity, there’s some times where Oliver can be too much.  So having to put himself in a situation with not one, but three billionaires, Hal’s going to need some liquid courage to survive.  

But while Hal might have concerns dealing with the rich, he has no problem fitting in with them.  Because he’s Hal Jordan.  Everyone loves him.  So, of course, the Luthor-Wayne’s are going to welcome him with open arms.  This is going to be a cake walk.  As long as he doesn’t throw up on his shoes in disgust.

---

Standing outside Oliver’s house, Hal tries not to sigh.  Stupid, big expensive house.  When the door opens and Oliver sticks his head out, he frowns at Hal, “Fuck, you look like shit Hal.”

Hal grumbles as he pushes his way into the house, “Thanks, asshole.  You spend three weeks on some backwater planet that thinks sleep and hygiene are for the weak and I dare you to look better.”  Wiping off his shoes, Hal looks at Oliver, “So why am I here?”

Oliver smirks, “We are drinking.”

Realizing he was called here for a social call, Hal breathes a sigh of relief.  He is too fucking tired to deal with League shit.  “Thank fuck.  What are we drinking?  I’ll even take one of those fruu fruu drinks right about now.”

Oliver gives a shark’s grin, “Oh, this is better.”

Not liking the build up, but still curious, Hal says slowly, “I’m listening.”

Oliver motions Hal to follow him downstairs towards one of the bars, “Luthor’s gone hipster on us.  Been brewing his own beer.  Though apparently he’s started mass producing.  Now, he’s moved on to dabbling in hard liquors.”

More curious, Hal concedes, “I’m interested...”

Oliver nods knowingly, “Well, he’s got a couple whiskeys his thinking about aging and bottling up, but he wanted to have opinions.  But apparently ‘my opinion isn’t good enough’.  He wanted someone that wouldn't sweet talk him, someone with a strong tolerance, and someone that’s a ‘modern’ man.  Of course, I suggested you.”

Hal smirks, “Of course.”  However, he stops mid-step, “Wait, so they are here?  Both of them?”  Oliver turns to face him, nodding.  Hal’s brain accepts that but backtracks even further, “Wait, the whiskeys aren’t even aged yet?”  

Confused by Hal’s accepted indifference, Oliver says slowly, “Yes?”

The smile that spreads across Hal’s face is sharp and bright, “Ollie, did you just invite me to a moonshine party?”

Snorting at his friend, Oliver motions towards the bar’s door in front of him in invite.  Hal chuckles as he claps Oliver on the shoulder, “And that’s why I keep you around, Ollie.  You know how to have fun.”

However, as the two men walk into the bar, Hal stops again.  Grasping his chest in excited shock, Hal whispers to Oliver, “And Luthor is bartending?!”  For sure enough, behind the counter Luthor is setting up bottles, with his sleeves rolled up and a serving towel over his shoulder.  Hal gushes at Oliver quietly, “Can I leave a one star review, in case he sucks?!  This just keeps getting better!”

Oliver pushes Hal forward, calling the attention of both Luthor, and Bruce who is sitting at the bar.  “Bruce, Lex, this is the whiskey connoisseur you have requested!  My dear friend, Hal Jordan.”

As they near the bar, Luthor shakes Hal’s hand with a knowing smirk, “A pleasure.  I appreciate your participation tonight.”

Hal smirks as he sits down next to Bruce, “Please.  Ollie had me at free whiskey.  This could literally taste like jet fuel, and I’d still drink it.”

Oliver, setting down next to Hal, frowns, “Haven’t you actually drunken jet fuel once?”

Hal says seriously, though a smile slips through, “I can neither confirm nor deny.  Only for lack of memory.”  

Seemingly amused, Luthor smirks, “Well, I do hope this is to a better standard than jet fuel.”

Leaning forward to steal an olive from the garnish tray, Hal shrugs, “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.  And if not, it’s about time I finally kill my liver.”

Luthor nods sagely, “Well, if you believe she deserves it, allow me to be the harbinger.”  He starts setting glencairn glasses down on the bar in front of each of the men.

Copying Hal and stealing a cherry, Bruce asks, “So, how do you and Ollie know each other?”

Oliver snorts, “That is a long story.  And one we will not be talking about.”

Bruce pouts, “Boo.  How can it be worse than how you meet Barry?”

Hal frowns, “Wait, you meet Barry?”

Luthor answers as he leans against the bar with his arms crossed, “Indeed.”  He turns a pointed look at Oliver, “Which does make me curious on why it’s only recently that you’ve started to introduce us to your friends.”

The pointed statement causes both Oliver and Hal to freeze, however Bruce says jokingly, “I just assumed he was showing off that he could in fact actually make friends.”

Oliver grabs his chest in mock pain.  His face is a look of shattered pride, “Ouch.”

Hal can’t stop the laugh, “Damn, Wayne.  That’s cold.”

Oliver leans over the bar to glare at Bruce, “And uncalled for.  Your best friend is your butler.”  At Lex’s chuckle, Oliver turns to him and points, “And your best friend is your bodyguard.”  Oliver leans back onto his stool, “At least Hal and I became friends the old fashioned way.”

Bruce leans towards Hal and stage-whispers, “He bribed you, didn’t he?”

Talking over Oliver’s outraged yelp, Hal answers calmly, “Nope.  Our friendship started when a conversation turned into fisticuffs.  And while nursing black eyes, wounded prides and a few beers, I realized that,”  He pauses and looks Oliver over, “‘Eh, he’s not so bad.’”  He pauses and then asks Bruce, “What about you two?  Is your best friend really your butler?”

Bruce smirks, “No, though a dear friend indeed.  No, I happened to be lucky and I married my best friend.”

Hal fake gags.  However, at the unamused looks that Lex and Bruce give him, he freezes.  “Oh. Oh no.”  He points between them, his voice full of mock disbelief, “You two actually love each other!”

With a dull, deadpan voice, Luthor answers, “And here I thought the big, flashy marriage said it all.”

Hal snorts, “But that’s exactly it.  People don’t marry rich people for love.  They do it for the money.  The fame and publicity.”  He shakes a finger at them teasingly, “Oh, you two.  Ruining marriage for everyone.  Making it about love again.” 

Chuckling, Bruce asks, “Then I can assume you aren’t married?”

“Nope.”, Hal says, popping the ‘p’.

Oliver elaborates, “Hal is married to his job.  And his side mistress is drinking.”

Hal nods, drumming his hands on the counter, “Exactly.”  He focuses on Luthor with a put upon frown, “And for a bartender, you’re running a little slow Lu.  I’m thinking about taking this out of your tip.”

Giving Hal a knowing look, Luthor grabs a bottle, “My apologies, Mister Jordan.  I will have your drink immediately.”  With a flourish, he presents the bottle, “May I suggest we start with the bourbons?”

---

Hal isn’t an alcoholic, nor does he have a drinking problem.  But you could call him a connoisseur of whiskey, for he has had it all;  from the finest bourbon Oliver’s money can buy, to the cheapest bottle of malt his local bar can carry.  So, when it comes to a whiskey tasting, Hal is actually the best person for the job.  And while he might have some strong (suspicious) feelings about Luthor, Hal does his best to be professional and meticulous while giving his feedback and opinions. 

However, when it comes to Lex Luthor, he tends to do everything to the extreme.  And that means Luthor came with a dozen different unaged whiskeys to be tasted. While Luthor has been giving only half pours, throughout the night, Hal slowly finds himself a little more drunk than anticipated.  Though he is able to get through Luthor’s three bourbons without issues.  However, when the malts come out, so does the truth.

---

“Lex Luthor.  You. Are. Soulless.  You, sir, are the scum of the earth!”

Lex looks over his glass, eyebrow raised.  Completely unperturbed by the loud exclamation, he states calmly, “I fail to see how-”  He is interrupted by Hal leaning over the bar top and pressing his fingers to Lex’s lips, silencing him.  

Hal demands, “No.  No, no, no no.  Shhhh.  Shush.”  He then whispers softly, meaningfully, “You can never undo what you have done.”

Oliver smirks with a shrug, “Sorry Lex.  I’m siding with Hal here.  You are evil to even consider that an option.”

Bruce frowns at his husband’s mistreatment but doesn’t intervene.  Though he does refute, “I don’t see what’s so wrong about Monopoly.”

Hal exclaims loudly, “It ruins families!”

With Hal distracted, Luthor moves away from Hal’s fingers and says, “If a family can not handle a little fictional financial stress-”

Hal moves his fingers back, “Hush.”

Bruce looks thoughtful as he says, “Well, Damian did stab Tim once cause Tim took the dog.”

Enjoying the back up, Hal agrees, “Of course he stabbed him.  Everyone wants the dog.   The pecking order is always dog, top hat, car.”  

Freeing himself again by finally stepping away from the bar ledge, Luthor challenges, “I always preferred the thimble.”  

Unable to reach Luthor, Hal sits back down, but waves at Luthor in agreement, “Another prime example.  Luthor, you are a weirdo.”

Oliver frowns, “Why not the battleship?”

Hal sighs, put upon.  “Everyone loses the battleship piece.  Those are house rules!”  

Oliver snorts, “Liar, mine still has it’s battleship.  Oh!  We could play battleship.  Come on Lex, time to raid the game room.”  Looking bemused, Luthor follows Oliver out of the room.  Hal sits up and hollers after them, “Hey Lex.  You know, they got rid of the-”

This time it is Hal that is being silenced as a single finger is pressed to his lips. Bruce doesn’t even look at Hal as he says quietly,  “Shhh..  He doesn’t need to know.”

Talking around the finger, Hal’s refute is muffled, “But he’s bound to-”

Bruce interrupts him, calmly, quietly, “You will take it to your grave.”  His voice drops a little deeper, threatening, “Sooner, if need be.”

Surprised by the (serious?) threat, Hal just nods, “Okay then.”  Taking a drink, Hal just has to ask, “So, got a thimble on you right now, cause I don't think Oliver's set has one."  When Bruce pulls a silver thimble from a pocket Hal sputters, "No fucking way!  Seriously, you just keep one on hand?!"

Bruce chuckles, "I do, but not for that reason.  Lex just happens to be a big fan of Peter Pan."

Realizing the reference, Hal asks in disbelief, "Seriously?  You just carry around 'kisses'?" And weirdly, Hal finds that quite touching, “Dude, that’s…”  And as he looks at the knowing look on Bruce’s face, Hal finds himself asking, “You really do love him, don’t you?”

Bruce only replies by dropping the thimble into the tip jar.

---

When the ryes come out, so do the puns.

Hal’s having a hard time trying not to spill his drink over the Monopoly bank as he motions excitedly, “No, no.  You need to call this rye ‘Hell Will’.  Get it?  Hell Will Ryes?!  Rise, but it's Rye?!”

Oliver looks disappointedly put upon.  His voice is deadpan as he says, “I disown you Hal.  Please go home.”

Hal cackles as he motions to his own Monopoly money stash, “You fucking wish, I live here now!  I own everything!”

---

When the scotches come out, so does the singing.

Hal is belting, holding a water bottle like a mic, “I can’t feel my face when I’m with you!”  He pauses and takes a sip of water before saying, “Seriously, my lips are numb.  Anyone else feeling that?”

Barry looks up from his Battleship board, “No, but you have been drinking half of Bruce’s glasses, so it could be that you are just drunk?”

Hal grumbles, “‘You’re just drunk.’  What a stupid thing to say to me.”  He then pauses and whips around to face Barry, “Barry!  When did you get here?!”  Hal stops and slowly looks around, seeing if anyone else is interacting with Barry.  Wouldn’t have been the weirdest ‘Barry is a ghost’ moment Hal’s had.  Hal says slowly, suspiciously, as he eyes Barry up, “Unless, I am also hallucinating…”

Oliver snorts, “Nope, Bar’s here.  He’s come to watch the karaoke off.”

At the word karaoke, Hal sits up excitedly, “What? When? Who?!”

Oliver shrugs, “You somehow convinced Bruce to do some karaoke.  But only one song, T-”

Hal fist pumps as he interrupts loudly, “Total Eclipse of the Heart! That my friend, is the ultimate karaoke song.”

Barry snickers, “It’ll be even better, Bruce can do all the ninja flips.”

Hal snorts, “Bullshit.”

Barry just laughs excitedly, “And all the pirouettes!”

Hal sighs disappointed, “Now who’s acting drunk?”

---

And when Hal starts making cocktails, that's when things get serious.

Hal is now behind the bar, with only Lex and Bruce sitting across from him.  Oliver and Barry are passed out on the couches.  Though, Bruce is no better, leaning up against Lex, sleeping with his head on Lex’s shoulder.

As Hal is stirring Lex and himself a drink as he sighs disappointingly at his friends, ”Light weights!  The whole lot of them.”

Lex smirks, “I’m surprised you aren’t down as well.  You’ve been in more cups then any of them.”

Pouring the drink into cocktail glass, Hal smirks, “What can I say?  I can hold my liquor like… “ He pauses, and fumbles his comparison, “Like Superman holds guilt.”

Lex gives him a weird look.  Then with a delay, he scoffs, “That is a horrible comparison, since he tends to drown in his guilt a lot.”

Hal frowns, “Oh, oh yeah.”  He pauses then sizes Lex up, “Do you?”  At Lex’s raised eyebrow, Hal elaborates, “Do you guilt?  Regret things you’ve done?”

Lex shrugs, “Everyone does regret something in their life.  Some people, it’s simple, small things like a slip of a word.  Others, it’s years of effort wasted or lost on obsolete goals.  So, yes.  I do have regrets."

He pauses in thought before continuing softly,  "But I wouldn’t change them.  Everything I’ve done brought me here.” He stops and looks down at Bruce before looking back at Hal and confessing, ”And here, right now.  It’s a good place to be.”

Having no reply, Hal just hands him his drink.  Luthor thanks him and takes a drink before wincing, “This drink is a little rough.  Is your tongue now numb too?”

Hal glares, “Har har.”  He stops and takes a drink before saying truthfully, “Though my lips still feel weird.”  He runs his tongue around his mouth before smacking his lips.  With a shrug, he says indifferently, “Guess I’m dying.  Not how I imagined it going.”

Curious, Lex asks, “How do you imagine your death?”

Leaning against the bar, Hal shrugs and starts answering with increasing excitement, “Oh, I figured it would be one big explosion.  But not some dumb plane crash explosion. It has to be something dumb, big, and over the top. With fireworks.  And Black Parade playing in the background.  And Batman’s doing a guitar solo.  And you are there, laughing maniacally in the background, cackling about Manhattan.  The drink, not the city.  That’s a new addition, but I decided I want that now.”

Luthor snorts, “I’m surprised I would be honored a guest appearance.”

Hal smiles, “Well, since Barry is dragging me to your Lexpo setup gig tomorrow, I got an obnoxious feeling that we are going to be guests appearing in each other’s lives a lot more from here on out.”

Luthor looks at Hal knowingly, “And will you be regretting that?”

Hal snorts, “Nah.  What’s the worst that can happen?  I continually, intentionally photobomb you?  Barry accidently blows something up, giving me the death I’ve requested? We end up playing Monopoly again?”

Luthor’s smile is coy, “Now, Hal.  Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

---

Hal wasn’t lying.  He does hold his liquor like Superman holds his guilt.  It doesn’t look like it's affecting him until he’s had time to process (aka sleep), and then it hits him like a steam engine.  

Hal Jordan is hungover.  And yet he still finds himself at the Lexpo building, dragging behind the most ragtag, crazy group of people that Hal has ever met.

The Wayne family.

Hal doesn’t know why they are here.  He doesn’t even know why he’s here.  But Barry is beside him, happily yipping away about… something.  Hal loves Barry like he loves flying, but he can barely keep up with him on a normal day.  With his splitting headache and sore stomach, Hal’s barely able to keep his feet under him.  All Hal can do is nod his head at what he hopes is opportune moments and hopes to get through the whole day without throwing up on his own shoes.

“Barry, Lex said he would like a word?”  Barry is gone before Hal even notices because he is focused on Bruce and the disbelieving yet amused look on his face.  Bruce hands Hal a bottle of water, “You should have stayed home.  You look like death warmed over.”

Hal takes a few, small sips of water before answering, “Eh. Barry was excited.  And can you really say no to that?”  He motions over to where Barry is talking excited at Lex, pointing at apparently random things.

Bruce chuckles, “That is turning out to be more difficult than expected.”  Before he continues, Bruce is pulled away by Stephanie.  (Thank fuck for Oliver’s rundown, or Hal wouldn’t know any of these kids or their names.)  However, before walking away, Bruce hands Hal a small bag of animal crackers.  Nice.  Turns out that Bruce Wayne is the patron saint of the hungover.

Hal follows behind the gaggle of people as they walk around the gigantic exhibition hall, looking about as the people are setting up the booths for the big event.  However, it isn’t long for Hal to realize that he isn’t actually following the Waynes, but he is specifically following Bruce.  For all Bruce’s kids seem to be in constant movement; while some have run off to investigate booths and ask people questions, others have disappeared to destinations unknown. 

Yet, no matter where they go, they always seem to circle back to Bruce.  Bruce seems to be the vortex of the Wayne chaos, the strange, supportive ring leader.  But in between the flux of Waynes, Bruce and Hal slowly make their way through the hall in silence.  However, it is not an uncomfortable silence.  It feels like the silence of men comfortable in the other’s presence.  And with how physically bad Hal is feeling, it’s kind of nice to have that rapport with Bruce, that easy understanding.

They have only made it past the first room of booths when one of the first wayward children returns.  “Father.”  Both Bruce and Hal turn towards Damien as he approaches.  “Jones had requested that you visit both the Sol Tides and the Ocean’s Breach booths for photos.”

Bruce nods, “I feel like you have represented our family better at Ocean’s Breach.  Can I convince you to take my stead?”

Damien thinks about it, before nodding his head, “I will represent our family here if I may be excused from the next two frivolous events you must host.”

Bruce claps Damien on the shoulder, “Thank you Damien.  Be nice to Angela.”

They continue their walk.  When they end up near the back of the hall, away from most of the booths is when Jason approaches them, whose's greeting causes Bruce to almost misplace his step.  “Hey Dad,”  Hal’s unable to see Bruce’s face, but his expression causes Jason to roll his eyes as he approaches.  He motions up to the rafters overhead and speaks quietly for only Bruce and Hal to hear, “I’ve been casing the joint and there’s some vents I want to snoop in.  Was wondering if you had a grapple hook on you or something.”

Bruce snorts, “Surprised you don’t have one on yourself.”

Jason snarks, “Ha ha.  So, are you carrying?”

Bruce chuckles.  Hal chuckles too, but awkwardly because why would Bruce Wayne have a grappling hook on him?  However, as Bruce starts messing with his belt, Hal starts to get suspicious.  Bruce hands his belt over to Jason, “I’m pretty sure Cass is already hanging off the rafters, so ask her to help.”

Before Hal can speak up, because he has something he definitely wants to say, Jason looks at him and frowns, “Damn Hal.  You look like shit.”

Train of thought interrupted, Hal frowns, “Thanks dick.”

This just causes Jason to smirk, “Nah, I’m Jason. Dick ain’t here.”  With a smirk and wave, Jason jogs off.  And Bruce just walks off like that exchange wasn’t suspicious, concerning, confusing. 

Unfortunately, Hal doesn’t have the energy to keep up so he just trails behind Bruce through the expo.  Bruce seems to keep just the perfect pace to be near enough to Hal to have a conversation, but far enough away that they conversation can’t be private.  Which is rude!

As they get to the center of the hall, they run into one of the Waynes that Hal didn’t see this morning, but one Hal recognizes.  Bruce greets him cheerfully, “Tim!”  The young man barely looks up from his tablet, giving Bruce a small nod.  Bruce just looks over his shoulder at the tablet and asks, “So, Lex got you running this whole thing?”

Tim hums, “Pretty much.  If everything goes smoothly, he will literally just be a figurehead to this event.”  

Hal frowns, “But, didn’t he buy the Expo just so he could overhaul it all?”

Tim frowns, finally looking up from his tablet, “On the contrary.  With him buying the East Coast Science Expo, he said he didn’t want to dominate the Expo and it’s original goal of showcasing the advancements of science.  He just wanted it to have better financial backing as well as increased visual to the world as a whole.  Think of it as an endorsement, not a purchase.”

Hal hums, already tired of the conversation.  Bruce claps Tim on the shoulder, “Then we will leave you to it.”

They wander once more.  Hal’s getting more tired and is ready for a nap, to the point that he almost misses Bruce stopping at one of the main stages.  On the stage is a woman that is going through a series of martial forms.  The glowing lights on her legs show the smooth, slow motion of each transition.  She slowly but surely makes her way across the stage towards them.  When she gets to the edge, she stops and slowly bows to Bruce and Hal before standing up fully, grinning down at them as she asks, “Any feedback?”

Hal snorts, like he would even know what martial art that was, let alone be knowledgeable enough to critic her.  However, it’s Bruce that answers, “Your left ankle still seems weaker.  Have they found a reason yet?”

The woman nods excitedly as she sits down on the stage, “Yeah!  Apparently the Livefire is picking up on my habit of tapping my right foot when I’m frustrated.  Ben’s given me another set of exercises to try and fix the imbalance.”  

Bruce smirks, “Just means you will have to impatiently tap your left foot equally.”

The woman blows a raspberry before getting up, “I’ll show you impatience!”  She does a series of cartwheels down the stage.  As she gets to the end, she blows another raspberry before getting back into a starter martial form.  She gives a quick wave and resumes her slow moves.

And yeah, maybe watching all those cartwheels have made Hal dizzy, so he forgets to ask who that even was.  He’s actually having a hard time paying attention to where they are even going.  He only notices that they’ve stopped again when the smell of food causes Hal’s stomach to seize.  He looks up and sees Stephanie has returned with arms full of food containers.  Hal tries to follow Bruce and Steph’s conversation, but he’s too focused on not throwing up that he only catches bits and pieces.  

“I’ll make .. Tim… eat.  Cass and … hiding…  Give this...  Hal.”

There is silence then a soft, “Hey Hal, you okay? You don’t look so good…”

Hal doesn’t remember closing his eyes, it's only when he feels cold fingers on his forehead that his eyes snap open.  In front of him, Stephanie is looking at him with concern.  When his eyes land on the food in Steph’s arms, Hal’s stomach finally gives out, emptying its contents onto the floor.

“Dad, he’s burning up!”

There are hurried steps then another hand replaces the one on Hal’s forehead.  “Dammit Hal.  Steph, go find Lex.”

Hal frowns, but leans against the cool hand in comfort, “Why Lex?  So I can throw up on his shoes too?”

There’s a snort, “He’s a doctor.  Which you need.”

Hal frowns as he looks up at Bruce, “I knew that.  I knew that, right?”

Bruce frowns with concern, “Hal, what are all your symptoms?”

Hal mirrors the frown.  Shit, everything hurts right now.  Symptoms?  It's hard to think his headache.  Closing his eyes shut, he tries to evaluate himself.  He’s nauseous, dizzy, lethargic. He has a headache and numb lips.  Oh, that's a lot of symptoms, now that he thinks about it.  However, as his knees give out below him, he adds fainting to his list.  Looking at Bruce in shock as darkness starts to take over his vision, Hal confesses, “B, I think I’m dying.”  

Chapter 34: The Pilot, Part 2

Summary:

Guests and decisions don't mix.

Hal Jordan doesn’t get sick.  He doesn’t have the time nor the inclination to do so.  In fact, he refuses, if it’s all the same to you.  And if, on some unlikely and completely inconvenient time, Hal’s body does decide to pick up a bug or a virus, Hal will do what he always does.  He will slam some pain relievers, down some electrolytes, and then he will tell his body to suck it up and get its shit together.  Come on body, we are better than that.  If Hal has the Will to forge an entire fighter jet squadron out of mystical, alien magic, he has the Willpower to overcome any sickness!

Or so he wishes; really, really hard.  But of course, like all people, there is a line where eventually Hal’s body will complain enough, give out enough to the point that Hal must concede.  But Hal does not go gentle into that good night.  For when Hal Jordan is sick, and we mean bone-tired, soul-aching, ‘I might be dying’ sick, Hal becomes a whiney, needy ball of human emotions.  

---

Hal wants to throw up.  It feels like that will fix everything.  It has to.  Throwing up when sick is good, and it does always make him feel better.  However, to throw up Hal needs to open his eyes and see where he should throw up.  Nope, bad idea.  Just the thought of opening his eyes makes him even more nauseous.  Fuck.  Throw up blind or throw up quick.  Neither sound good. 

“Hal?”

Is that... Luthor?   Slowly opening one eye, Hal looks around.  Or tries to.  His vision’s a little blurry, but yep, definitely Lex Luthor.  Looming over Hal.  Looking concerned.  Oh, that’s weird.  I didn’t know he knew how to do that.   Hal tries to say as much, but all that comes out is a dry wheeze.  Hal closes his eyes in a wince as pain rips through his throat.  

Hearing a soft rattle next to him, Hal peeks to find Luthor holding a cup of ice out to him.  Accepting the cup, Hal slowly starts eating them.  It is only after a few chips that he freezes when he realizes where he is.  Where they are.

“Fuck, Lu.  You can’t be in the Watchtower!” 

Luthor's raised eyebrow is not the response Hal is expecting.  In fact, Hal was expecting more of a 'Oh, silly me! Seems I have accidentally found myself in one of the world's most illusive, well guarded secret hideouts. You are right Hal, I should go!'  With a sigh, Hal tries to get out of bed to escort the man out, however he stops when he realises he can’t feel his feet. 

Well, that’s bad.  Well, I see them. Just not feel them.   Slowly poking his leg, Hal frowns.  Do my legs feel numb too?  Or maybe just number?  Numb-er? More numb?  Gods, my head is foggy af. Is my brain going numb too?  Ignoring that terrifying thought, he turns back to Luthor, “Seriously, you got to go.  If Supes or Bats find you here-”

Luthor interrupts him by slowly, gently grabbing Hal’s hand so he stops poking himself. Luthor says with calm words, “We are aware of the extent of your numbness.”

Hal frowns, and in spite, pulls his hand out of Luthor’s so he can go back to stabbing his numb? leg.  With each jab, “That. Not. My.-”

Once again stopping Hal’s abuse with a sure hand, Luthor gives a smirk, “Lucky for me, Superman isn’t here to kick me out.”  

At that Hal does stop.  He feels like he’s forgetting something.  Stupid muggy brain.  Y u no work?  With his brain blank, Hal instead asks, “And what about Batman?  This is his secret clubhouse.  You need to know the secret password and handshake to get in.” 

At Luthor’s knowing smirk, Hal frowns.  What's he so smug about?  Wait, is there actually a secret password and handshake?  And I don’t know it?  That’s rude, let me tell you.

Luthor’s smile just grows, “If there is one, I do not know the League handshake.  Though I do know the one for the Batcave.”

Hal frowns, “Great.  Inside thoughts are outside thoughts.  You got that on the list of symptoms?  And there’s a Batcave handshake?  Wait, you’ve been to the Batcave?!”

Luthor hums, “Yes, we do have that on the list.  Yes, there is an official handshake, according to Nightwing.  And yes, I have been in the Batcave.  Unfortunately, so have you.”  At Hal’s shocked face, Luthor’s smiles kindly, “And yes, short term memory loss is also on the list.”

“Noooo! I’ve been to the Batcave and I don’t even remember!”  Hal slouched on the bed in defeat.  Distracting himself from that particular heartache, Hal pouts and finally asks, “It sounds like I’m falling apart Doc.  What’s the verdict?”

Luthor sighs, “Unfortunately, you are undiagnosed.”

Hal growns and sinks even further into the medbed, “It’s gotta be lupus.  It’s always lupus on the tv shows.”

Luthor comes over to the bed and starts to tuck Hal in, who swats him away.  Luthor chuckles, “It’s not lupus.  I did, in fact, check.  Batman has deduced that it is something you picked up on your last mission.”

Hal asks innocently, "Mission? What mission?"

At Lex's raised eyebrow and deep sigh, Hal starts cursing internally.  That expression said more than Hal wanted to know.  Well fuck, Hal.  You were so worried about Luthor being in the Watchtower, you weren't thinking why Hal Jordan would be there. Damn, guess that cat is out of that bag.  Luthor knows he's the Green Lantern.  That's bad.

… Or is it? Because it sure seems Luthor's still trying to help Hal.  This is weird.  Alright, play it cool, don't make a big deal out of it.

“So it’s space lupus.”

That causes Luthor to laugh, “We shall see.  Both Superman and Batman are off planet, meeting with the Corps to find out.”

Ahha !  “So, that’s why you aren’t afraid to get busted.”

Luthor smirks, “Correct.”

Not liking the smug bastard, Hal points his finger at Luthor, “You still shouldn't be here. And I am tattling." His voice turns mock stern as he shakes his finger at him, "You just wait til your fathers get home.” Ew, that thought seems wrong for ALL the reasons.

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Luthor promises, “Fear not, there will be no shenanigans until you are well again.  But for now, you are on bedrest until they return.”

Unable to stop himself, Hal whines, “But bedrest is boring.”

Luthor pats his arm in condolences, “You are cleared for visitors, so hopefully it won’t be so bad."

Hal crosses his arms childishly, mumbling into his chest. "Puh, what visitors? None of my peeps are aloud up here."

Luthor just grabs Hal's medical tablet and moves to the guest coach.  As he sits, he looks smug as he says nonchalantly, "Somehow I doubt that will stop them."

Confused, Hal asks, "Stop who?"

---

Apparently Hal has been adopted by the Wayne family.  Hal is not sure how Hal feels about this.

---

His first visitors are Barry and Jason.

“Wait, you get to come into the Tower too?  Barr, they're just letting everyone in now these days?”

Jason smirks as he sets down his bag, “Nope, I learned the handshake fair and square.”

Hal sputters and looks at Barry in accusation, “So there is a handshake!  I knew you were keeping things from me!”

Barry just smirks before turning to Lex, “Is paranoia on his symptoms list?”

Hal throws his pillow at Barry, which only muffles Barry’s guffaw.  Not thinking it was enough retribution, Hal motions to Jason, “You, smother him.”  Jason smirks and slowly walks towards Barry with his hands up, his intentions clear.

Barry balks, raising the pillow up in defense, “What, why?  Just like that you turn on me?!”

Jason chuckles darkly, “What can I say?  It’s a dying man’s wish.”

Both Barry and Hal gasp, but for different reasons.  Barry’s hurt, “You can’t kill me just cause he’s dying!” is barely heard over Hal’s outraged, “Hey, I’m not dying!” However, Hal stops and slowly turns to Luthor. With a suspicious glare, “Unless you are keeping things from me too….”

Barry stage whispers to Jason, “See, paranoid.”

Jason just playfully pushes Barry into the guest couch as he says to Hal, “Don’t worry, Lex won’t sugar coat it if you are dying.  He’ll let you know when it’s time to worry.”

Hal glares at Jason, “You say I can trust him.. But why would I trust you?”

Jason shrugs indifferently, “Cause I brought video games?”

Barry stands up offended, correcting Jason haughtily, “No, we brought video games!”

Leaning back into this bed, Hal crosses his arms haughtily at the offering, “What kind of games?”

Jason starts up the media screen in the room, flicking through the downloaded games, “Got Smash Bros, Rocket League, Mario Party-”

Hal interrupts, “Nope, no, no, no.  Mario Party is another family wrecker.  Delete it, right meow!”

Barry groans, “But I like-”

Hal interrupts again, pointing an accusing finger at Barry, “You are a star stealing bastard, and you should be ashamed of yourself!”

Refuting, Barry crosses his arms in a pout, “But that’s the goal of the game!”

Jason clears his throat, “While you two argue, Lex and I will be playing Mario Kart.”

Hal wails as he plops forward on his bed, his hand outstretched in a grabbing motion, “No, I want to play!  Let me play!”

Smirk, Jason tosses a controller at Hal, “You got it, boss.”

Barry glares, “Boss?  You are going to let him win, aren’t you?”

Jason scoffs as he pulls up a chair next to Hal’s bed, “Hell no.  He’s gotta work for it.”

Hal whines, “But I’m dying!  Pity me!”

Going to ruffle Hal’s hair but getting his hand smacked away, Jason chuckles, “You only get one death wish, sorry.”

Glaring, Hal points out, “But you didn’t actually smother Barry.”

Jason shrugs, “I’m waiting for him to cheat so I have a justified cause.”

Barry sputters offended, “I do not cheat!”

Jason throws a controller at him, “Prove it, ‘speed demon’.”

 

Turns out that Hal and Jason have a lot in common.  They have very similar tastes in games (unlike Barry and Luthor).  They both like picking on Barry (unlike Luthor).  And they are both very, very competitive.  Actually all four of them are very competitive. 

The three of them (and occasionally Luthor), spend the rest of the day, and the night playing video games.  They play until Hal’s eyes get heavy and his hands grow numb.  And when Jason takes the controller from Hal’s slack hands, he gently pushes Hal into bed, tucking him in.  “Get some rest, Fly Boy.  I need you in top form for our re-match.”

---

“Wake up, Hal!  We brought breakfast!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hal groans.  He wants to throw up again, but this time he’s not sure if it's the thought of food, or the person that’s rocking his bed.  Right when his stomach’s about to give out, there is a startled yelp and then his bed stops moving.  Peeking his eyes open, Hal sees Steph holding Dick by the ear, hissing at him.

“Don’t do that!  I’ve already made him throw up once.  If he throws up again, I’ll throw you in it!”

Clearly chided, Dick smiles sheepishly at Steph before turning to Hal, speaking quietly, “Hey Hal, how you feeling?”

Hal groans as he sits up in bed, “I feel like shit that’s been shat out by more shit.”

Dick chuckles, “Sounds shitty.  Well, hopefully this will help!”  He presents Hal a food container.  Yep, it’s definitely the thought of food that’s making Hal queasy.  Either not seeing Hal’s discomfort, or not caring, Dick pulls off the lid in a flourish, “It’s the most boring, bland thing Alfred could make you!”

Looking at the beige, mealy bowl of porridge, Hal reconsiders.  Actually, plain, old malt meal sounds pretty good right about now.  Carefully taking the bowl, hoping not to drop it with his numb hands, Hal thanks them.  However, before he takes the first bite, he frowns, “This been approved by Luthor?”  Then he looks around sharply, “Where is Luthor?!”

Dick slouches into one of the chairs, “Chill, he had a meeting to go to.”

Clutching the bowl to his chest, Hal quotes in mock terror, “‘He left us?! He left us!!”

Steph pats his arm in comfort, “Don’t worry, he didn’t leave until we got here.”

Unable to stop a blush, Hal gasps as he puts his hand over his chest in mock delight, “Aww! Why didn’t anyone tell me Lu-Lu was such a softy?”

Dick chuckles, “You have to let me know when you decide to call him that to your face.  I want to record it.”  However, he notices that Hal still hasn’t started eating so he motions to the bowl, “Food.  Eat.  Yes, it has been approved by Lex.  In fact, Lex and Alfie have been in debate on what to feed ya.  B settled it, saying this is a childhood favorite?”

And dammit, does Hal hate when B is a fucking know it all.  But, yeah, this was just what he needed.  Taking the first bite, his stomach accepts the food without issue.  Tucking into his meal, he asks between mouthfuls, “So, what are you two up to?”

Steph sits down, “Well, Lex didn't want you by yourself, so we came to jib jab.”

Frowning, Hal asks, "About what?"

Dick leans forward, “Well, Wayne Enterprises has been working on some cool things that I'd like your-”

Steph interrupts loudly, “Boring!”  She sits up excitedly and motions at Hal, “Hal, tell me!   Is it true that Ferris’s new jet flies like a Lightning II?”

Confused by the question, Hal answers bluntly, “Better.  She’s a dream boat.” Curious, and a little suspicious, he follows up with squinting eyes, “Why do you ask?”

Steph leans back, a cocky grin on her face, “Cause I can fly a Lightning, so was wondering if she’d be a smooth transition.”

Disbelieving, Hal snorts, “You can fly a LM Lightning II?”

Steph shrugs, “Course.  Dad taught me.”

Even more disbelieving, Hal asks deadpan, “Your dad can fly a Lightning?”

It’s Dick that snorts, “What do you think rich people do?  They host parties, buy yachts, and get pilot licenses.”

Hal turns his put upon face to Dick, “To military stealth aircraft?”

Dick’s smile is cloyingly innocent, “You’d be surprised what money can buy?”

Before Hal can answer, Steph waves her hand, “Forget that.  Tell me about your new dream boat.”

Putting down his spoon, Hal can’t stop the smile on his face, “Well let me tell you, that girl is something else.”

 

Turns out that Hal and Steph have a lot in common.  They have very similar tastes in aircraft (unlike Dick), and they both like picking on Dick (which is surprisingly easy).  They spend the morning talking about Ferris; from their current projects to their expectations of the upcoming sixth-generation jet fighters.  They only stop when Hal starts to fall asleep around lunch.  As he starts to doze, he hears Steph say, “Hal, you better uphold your promise!  I want the recommendation for my application!”

---

Hal wakes up in the afternoon by a single, loud bark that resonates through the room.  At the loud noise, Hal huddles into his blankets, “Nooo!  It's quiet time!”  

Someone tuts, and a bored voice says, “If you do not appreciate our presence, we shall leave.”  

Without un-burrowing, Hal sticks out his arm from his pile of blankets and tries to do a grabby motion, “No, don’t leave me!  Don’t let me die alone!”

Hearing Luthor chuckle causes Hal to finally emerge.  Sitting up, groggily Hal looks around the room. Standing at the door he spots Damien and Cassandra, between them a Great Dane.  Eyeing the dog with suspicion, Hal asks, “Are dogs even allowed in here?”

Luthor speaks up from his spot on the couch, “I gave them permission.  Whatever is affecting you doesn’t seem to be too strenuous on your immune system.”

Rubbing his sore head, Hal scoffs, “You say that, but I still feel like shit.”

Walking up to the media screen, Cass starts flipping through the movies.  Damien walks up to one of the chairs, sitting down in it.  Confused by the kids’ presence, Hal asks curiously, “So, what are we doing?”

Damien tuts as he boredly watches Cass, “Cassandra decided that you will be watching Nightmare Before Christmas with her.”

Even more confused, Hal asks, “And you are here for…?”

Slowly lulling his head towards Hal, Damien looks at him dully.  Finally, with a put upon sigh, Damien says, “When I do not feel well, Titus makes me feel better.”  With that, he motions to the dog.  

Hal stares at Damien before looking down at the dog, before looking back up at Damien.  Slowly, trying not to offend the kid, “So… you brought me your dog.  To feel better?”

Damien only tuts in answer, before turning to the media screen when the music of the movie starts to play.  With the movie started, Cassandra skips towards the bed.  Instead of sitting on the second chair, she climbs on the bed to sit next to Hal.  Having to move to make room for her, Hal barely notices Damien pat the bed.  He does however notice the one hundred fifty pound dog that jumps on the bed.  “No!  He’ll squish me!”  Oh, that’s right.  His legs are numb.  Lucky him.  Thankful that his legs are currently numb, Hal watches as Titus plops across them, laying his big head in Hal's lap.  And as Hal slowly pets Titus and turns his attention to the movie, Hal is having a hard time accepting that this is his life right now.  

As everyone settles, the room is silent except for the movie playing.  However, it’s not long before Cassandra starts to hum to the songs, her head bobbing and her hands skittering in her lap.  But when Luthor, and then later Damien, join in the humming, Hal’s starts to think this is actually a very common occurrence at Wayne Manor. And while he thinks he should feel like an outsider, Hal finds himself getting comfortable as he settles in to watch the rest of the movie.

---

When Hal wakes up in the middle of the night, it’s to the light sound of snoring.  Confused and disoriented, it takes his eyes a few minutes to focus on his surroundings.  The room is dark save for the soft glowing lights from the medical machines.  And in the darkness, Hal is surprised to see both Conner and Tim sitting next to his bed.  Though calling it sitting is being generous.  

Conner is sitting to the right of the bed, but he is slouched over the bed, sleeping with his head pillowed on Hal’s now very numb legs.  Where to his left Tim is sleeping in his chair, his head completely rolled over the back of the chair, soft snores echoing from his open mouth.  Gawking at the obviously uncomfortable position, it takes Hal a second to notice that Luthor is still in the room.  The man is still sitting on the visitor couch, awake and working on Hal's medical tablet.

Even though he doesn’t look up, Luthor must have heard Hal wake up for he says softly in the darkness, “Good morning Hal.”

Still a little out of it, Hal mutters, “Lu.  What’s with the sleepover?”

Luthor doesn’t look up from the tablet when he answers, “They wanted to be here for moral support.”

Still confused, Hal blinking the sleep from his eyes, “Moral support?  This the part you tell me I’m dying?”

Luthor looks up at him with a blank face before he gets up and slowly walks to the bed.  When Luthor sits on the edge of the bed, Hal can tell this is going to be a serious conversation.  One he’s been expecting more and more lately, as more of his extremities have gone numb. 

Guess it's time to worry.

Without giving Hal the time to steel himself, Luthor says calmly, plainly, “Though your body is going numb, all your organs seem to be working as intended.  However, there is a high probability that when the numbness hits your core, you will slip into a coma.”

Wow, someone is not pulling punches.  Instantly needing clarification, Hal asks suspiciously, “Coma as in ‘I’m out until my body gets this shit figured out’, or coma as in ‘I’m not waking up in the foreseeable future’?”

Luthor answers truthfully, “We are unsure, but I believe it's the latter.”

Hal frowns.  Well that sucks. “Does this coma have a deadline?”

Luthor nods, “I estimate tomorrow afternoon.”

Since Luthor hadn’t mentioned them, Hal doesn’t want to get his hopes up.  However he ends up asking, “And where is the dynamic duo?”

The name causes Luthor’s lips twitch in a smirk before he turns somber once more, “Batman and Superman are on the way back,  eta tomorrow morning.  They claim they have obtained a cure from the locals, but it sounds like there will be complications due to differences of species.  Batman and I are currently in a heated debate on the probability of modifying it to work on humans. Unfortunately, until proven otherwise, I doubt alternating the cure would be feasible in our time frame.”

Hal snarks, “Wow, thanks for the news, Luthor.  Unfortunately, that’s a little too pragmatic for me. You know me? The dying person.”

Luthor huffs, “If it makes you feel any better, I have a feeling Batman is going to sick Clark on me about my bedside manners.”  

Hal would actually like to see that, if he survives all this.  However, he asks, “What does Batman say? About modifying it?”

Luthor raises an eyebrow, “He hasn't said anything.  He is currently analyzing the ingredients of the cure.  Seeing if a modification is feasible, or, against my judgment, seeing if the human body would be able to withstand the cure without alteration.”  Luthor sighs sadly, “Unfortunately, from the tight scowl and deep frown I saw, the possibilities are in doubt.”

Well, that double sucks.  “So, technically my only option is sit around and wait?"

Luthor says softly, "Seems so."

Hal takes a big breath then let’s it go.  Then takes another one. That option sounds like shit.  With a frown, he tells Luthor, “You know what?  I refuse.”  He starts shaking his head defiantly, “Not going to happen.  I told you.  I demand big explosions and fireworks. I refuse to go down by a case of space lupus.”  He then begs at Luthor, “Lu, you gotta promise me I’m not going to be taken down by space lupus.”  

Luthor gives a heartbreakingly sad smile, “I can’t promise that Hal.”  

And Hal knew that.  Doctors can’t make those kind of promises.  It’s just shitty, you know?  Out of all the shit he’s been through and done, this is one battle that can’t be fought with Will or strength or mind.  With a bitter sigh, Hal asks tiredly, brokenly, “So, what can you promise me?”

It seems Luthor actually thinks about his answer before he says, “Unfortunately, I can neither promise a big explosion, nor fireworks.”  Hal blows a raspberry at Luthor, but Luthor just chuckles as he continues, “But I can promise to play you Black Parade.  And I can promise to give the most evil monologue about Manhattans that will make bartenders cry worldwide.”  He pauses, and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he promises, “And I can even promise an air-guitaring Batman.”

This causes Hal to chuckle, though it sounds a little like a sob, “Now you lying.  Why you lie?”

Luthor chuckles softly, “I am not lying.  An air-guitaring Batman you shall have.”

Just imagining it, Hal shakes his head.  And in this moment, Hal can’t believe this is his life.  On the verge of the unknown; entering a coma he may not wake up from, waiting on a cure that may not work.  And to top it off, he’s being comforted by one of the most powerful, dangerous men on earth.  The Villain.  The Mastermind.   

Yet Hal finds that this man, this doctor that is willing to promise sweet nothings, tell little white lies so that he can give Hal comfort, deserves the same kindness, the same curiosity.  So through his tears, Hal lies, “An air-guitaring Batman?  That just might be worth dying to see.”

Luthor leans forward and wipes a tear away, “I promise that it will live up to your expectations.”  He then smiles softly, his words serious, “I also promise that I will do everything in my power to save your life.”

And surprisingly,  Hal believes him. Hal nods weakly, “I know you will.”  Then with the weight of a man about to die, Hal confesses, “And if it’s all the same to you, I think I would like a hug now.”

Smiling, Luthor nods, “Of course.”  However, instead of leaning forward to hug Hal, Luthor moves, and being mindful of the sleeping Conner, repositions himself so that he is sitting next to Hal, shoulder to shoulder.  Then, with slow, calm movements, Luthor loops his arms around Hal and pulls him close.  

Oh.  Okay then.  Cuddle time with Lu-Lu.  Yet Hal can’t stop himself from clinging to Lex.  With a wet chuckle, Hal says into Lex’s shirt, “If we are cuddling, I demand you pet my hair.”  When he feels fingers card his hair, he demands, “And you must whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”

This time he can feel Lex chuckle beside him, then he hears a soft whisper, “The Green Lantern is my favorite of the League.”

Hal snorts, “Duh, why wouldn't he be?  I happen to know on good authority that I’m the best, at everything!”

Luthor says deadpan, “You have the biggest ego of anyone I have ever met.”

Hal coos, “Oh, tell me more, tell me more.”

Luthor scoffs, “That wasn’t a compliment.”

Yawning, Hal refutes, “Everything’s a compliment if you are vain enough.”  

Taking the challenge, Luthor baits, “You are infuriating.”

Hal shrugs, “I’m memorable.”

Seeing Hal’s eyes droop, Luthor starts to tuck the blanket around Hal, “You are confrontational.”

While getting comfortable, Hal mumbles, “I’m engaging.”

Chuckling, Luthor says, “You are stubborn.”

Hal can’t stop his grin as he says, “You mispronounced strong-Willed.”

Luthor scoffs, "Go to bed, Hal.  You will need that strong will to make it through tomorrow."

Unfortunately, Hal believes that too.

---

When Hal wakes up, it’s to an ominous feeling; a dark presence that slowly fills him with dread.  An inkling in the back of his mind like he’s…  Oh, wait.  That’s just Batman, isn’t it?  Hovering over me.  Like a creepy creeper.  Hal peeks an eye open and…  Well, that’s alarming weird.  Everything is blurry; a mosaic mesh of colors.  But he assumes he is correct, that that dark, omission blob next to his bed is, in fact, Batman.  Batman, impasto style.

Hal is greeted by a deep, gravelly voice, “Hal.”

Yep, definitely Batman.  Not using codenames?  Must be serious.  Hal snorts, “ Geez, Bats.  Where’s your bedside manners?  No, ‘Hey Hal, how are you doing?” or ‘Hey Hal, sorry to hear you are dying.’”

Not taking the bait, Batman just says bluntly, “You have two options.”

Well shit, straight to business. I bet him and Lex have been getting on like a house on fire.

Glaring at the Blob formerly known as Batman, Hal tuts, “Well, don’t keep a lady waiting in suspense.”

Hal has a ranking system for ‘Annoying The Batman’, and yes, usually if any of Batman's reactions actually make a rank, it's cause things are seriously bad and/or stressful.  And yeah, maybe Hal falls back on humor as a coping mechanism in times of trouble.  So sue him.  It doesn't change that fact that he finds great amusement when Batman gives the smallest sigh through the nose; the first rank of 'Batman is annoyed with Hal and his shenanigans.'"   But those are rookie numbers!  Today’s the day we get those numbers up!

Batman’s voice is clinical as he states Hal’s first option.  “We have deduced that the similarities between the two species is similar enough that we can inject you with the vaccine, curing you.  However, due to the dissimilarities, there is a 31% chance that your body will go into multiple organ failure.”

Straight to it, and the first option is shit.  Hal thinks for all of two seconds, “On first impressions, I think I am going to have to pass.  Next.”

Batman stands up just a little bit straighter, causing his shoulders to roll back the smallest amount.  Ohh! Rank 2: The shoulder roll.  Hal’s on a roll.  

Ignoring the interruption, the Blob.. Blobman continues, “Second option:  Luthor and I confirmed that the vaccine can be altered for humans.  That will take time.  We would allow you to fall into a coma; giving us time to alter the vaccine to work on humans, with minimal margin of error.”

Even quicker, Hal says condescendingly, “Well, look at that, that sounds like-”

However, Batman interrupts him; his words causing all the air to leave Hal’s lungs.

“If you go into a coma, the Ring will find another owner.”

The rest of Hal’s sentence comes out in a wheeze.  When he does catch his breath, Hal is unable to stop himself.  He starts laughing maniacally, a high pitched finicky little laugh. It is only when Hal is out of breath does his face goes blank as he glares at Batman, “Fuck you, Batman.  Seriously.  Fuck you.  How dare you make it sound like Coma Cure was even an option.”

Batman doesn’t reply.  At least not verbally.  Holy fuck, did we upgrade to nose pinch?!  That’s a Rank 7 move!  Wait.  What’s he doing?!  Hal watches mesmerized as Batman raises his hands and- “Oh, fuck no.”  Hal’s exclamation doesn’t stop it, for Batman slowly reaches up and removes his cowl, revealing…  a blurry blur.  

Thank fuck.  

Hal is beyond thankful for his currently blurry vision cause he doesn’t want to see it.  He doesn’t.  He didn’t want to see it back then, and he sure as fuck doesn’t want to see it now.  He doesn’t want to see that scowly, grumpy face.  Because he knows, deep down in the very core of his being that that face, his friend’s face is going to be covered in concern, and gods forbid, pity.  And Hal definitely doesn’t want to see that.  Not now.  Not ever.  

“Hal.” 

Ahhh fuck. 

The once deep, gravelly voice is softer, kinder.  “It is an option.” There’s a pause.  When Batman starts talking again, there is a fondness to his voice that makes Hal frown, “Just because you are a Green Lantern, doesn’t mean that a Green Lantern is all you are.”

Just the idea that Batman thought he had to enforce that makes Hal hiss out, “Listen here, ass!  I know that.  I know who I am.  I’m great!  I’m a wonderful delight!  I didn’t need space jewelry to prove it.”  Hal can feel a tantrum coming on. And yes, he can tell it’s going to be a mess of emotions.  But you know, fuck it!  He’s sick.  And he’s tired.  But the one thing he isn’t, is he isn’t done fighting.

“But there is something you don’t realize!  It’s not that I want to die.  And it’s not that I’d rather die than be a Lantern.  The truth of the matter is; your numbers are shit!  You’re little numbers don’t scare me.   Do you know why?” 

He doesn’t even wait for Batman to respond before he bites out, “You and me?  All of us?  We defy numbers.  There’s been too many times when we’ve gone into a situation where you spouted stupidly low numbers of survivals, and yet we pulled through.  We’ve gone in knowing the odds, and yet we always come out.  Every single time.  So, guess what?  31% doesn’t mean shit to me.  They are just another set of numbers to overcome.  And you know what else I think?  I think you are just bad at math!”

And yeah, maybe Hal's upset and lashing out, but dammit, it does make him feel better.

At the end of his tirade all Batman does is chuckle, a low, warm laugh.  Hal’s brain breaks.  Slowly blinking at the colored splotches that is his friend, Hal tries to think back.  Have I ever heard Batman chuckle before?  Is that even allowed?  Taking a deep breath, Hal glares at Batman, “No, you do not get to chuckle at me.  I’m dying and I demand normalcy.”

Batman sounds amused as he says, “So, that’s a no for air-guitaring?”

Hal’s gasp is loud, echoing through the room.  “Nooo!  I must have it!  And it must be recorded!”  However, Hal quickly realizes his plight, wailing pitifully, “Nooo, I’ll be too blind to see it!”  

Batman chuckles again, “I will promise you air-guitaring after all this is over.”

Hal sinks into his bed, pouting, “You better.  And it has to be you.  I already got Batwing to do it.  He’s just a sucka, giving away air guitar sessions like a hussy.” 

Against his own desires, Hal takes a big breath and gets back on topic.  His words are tired but firm, “My choice is the unaltered vaccine.”  He then scoffs, his voice snotty, “I’m surprised you even gave me the other opinion, ‘Mr. I know what everyone is thinking.’  You should have known that wasn’t a real option.”

Batman moves closer to the bed.  As he releases the breaks on the bed, he says nonchalantly, “Oh, I knew.  Lex is prepping the OR as we speak.”

Hal gawks at Batman before grumbling mockingly, “‘~Oh, look at me.  I’m so smart, I know everything.~’”

Batman starts to wheel the bed towards the door, but Hal stops him.  He asks softly, “You’ll be in there, right?”

Batman’s answer is soft but sure, “Yes.”

Hal starts to nod and can’t seem to stop, “Good good.  That’s good.”  He looks over at blurry Batman and demands, “But you can’t be this.  You have to be you.  Moody, grumpy Batman.  And you have to stand in the corner, brooding.  And you have to grump at Lex, like old times.”  

The warm chuckle is back, “As you wish.”  Hal relaxes into his bed.  As they head to the OR, he softly confesses, “Good.  Perfect.  Everything’s going to be fine.  Everything always turns out fine when you have a brooding Batman in your corner.”

Fortunately, Hal actually believes that too.

---

Hal wakes up to his whole body in pain.  Not the ‘I’ve just got shoulder-checked into a building by Superman,’ but a ‘my arm whole body fell asleep for too long, and now everything is pins and needles’ kind of pain.  Except his chest.  His chest feels like he got kicked in the chest by a horse.  Multiple times.  

Almost afraid to see the damage, Hal opens his eyes.  And sees nothing.  Pure darkness.  Okay, don’t freak out. Do. Not. Freak. Out.   On impulse he clutches his right hand, and oh boy, big mistake.  The pins and needles feeling amplifies to the pain of electricity.  However, in doing so, he feels his Ring snug on his finger.  #worthit

But that only relieves the fear concern of losing his Ring.  It does nothing about the idea that he might be blind.  However, before that fear can grow, a hand curls around his right hand.  Even though it’s gentle, the grip on his already tingling hand causes Hal to hiss.  The hand starts to let go, but Hal grabs at it, clutching it tightly, “Nope, no take backsies.”  Knowing that someone is there with him is a balm he didn’t know he needed.  Stupid needy emotions.

He hears Batman chuckle and Hal hates how much he likes the sound of that.  “No!  Tune that down.  I need you broody.  I demand more brood.”

Ignoring that, Batman states calmly, “You aren’t blind.”  

Dammit, how does he do that shit?!  Knowing all my thoughts, and then diffusing shit like it ain’t no thing.  But it worked. Without having any proof otherwise, Hal believes him without a second thought.  

Batman continues, “Lex said that you would have high sensitivity to light, so the room is blacked out.”

Hal hums, “Cool.  Cool cool cool.”  He reaches up with his free hand, gently rubbing at his sore chest, “Why does it feel like my chest got kicked in?”

Batman squeezes his hand in sympathy, “Lex had to restart your heart three times.”

Well, shit.  That sounds bad.  That sounds like 'I did actually die'  bad. 

Hissing at the image of Lex having to use a defibrillator, Hal takes a second to appreciate that he’s alive. 

He's alive.

He lived. 

He lived!  Take that, 31%!  

But out of everything he could be thinking about, the weirdest, most surprising thing that Hal ends up thinking about is Lex upheld his promise.  Lex did save his life. 

Well, they all did; it was a team effort, it always is.  But the fact that Lex Luthor was part of that team is...

Rubbing his chest to alleviate the emotions pain, Hal whispers, “Hey Batman?”  Hearing Batman hum curiously, Hal admits softly, “I like your husband. He seems like good people.”

Because Batman is right, Hal isn’t blind.  He had seen too many things the last few days to not notice.  To not know.  Batman letting Lex Luthor in the Batcave?  Letting him in the Watchtower?  Calling him Lex?  And the biggest thing of all, the biggest tell: trusting Lex Luthor with the care of a Leaguer.  That kind of trust doesn’t come from just desperation.  That trust comes from something more.  Something personal.    Bitch please, I ain’t no fool. 

Bruce squeezes his hand, “He is.”  Those two words are filled with so much fondness, so much love that Hal either wants to cry or throw up.  Maybe he’s still sick. And dammit, does Hal hate being a sentimental fool when he’s sick.  Intentionally trying to break the sappy moment, Hal goads jokingly, his words sing-songy, “But you better watch out.  He’s going to be a homewrecker.”

Bruce’s hum is laced with amusement, “You think so?”

Unable to keep the smile off his face, Hal says confidently, “Oh, I know for a fact.  He’s going to leave you for me.”  At Bruce’s disbelieving guffaw, Hal pouts childishly, “It’s true.  He told me I was his favorite.  And we cuddled.”  His brain finally clear of the fog of sickness, Hal realizes in disbelief, “Lex Luthor’s a cuddler.    Who knew? That..  That’s like…  That’s like Batman being a cuddler.”

As if he doesn’t know he’s telling the world’s greatest secret, Bruce says calmly, “I am a cuddler.”  

Without thinking, Hal refutes it, “Bullshit.”

Bruce doesn’t answer. However, Hal hears him get up and walk towards the bed.  Hal can’t stop himself from joking, his words humorous, “Fuck yeah!  Our Batman bot has been upgraded with emotional support cuddling?  Sign me up.”  Because while he is mostly joking, the last few days have been really shit and he did in fact almost die.  So if Bruce is offering moral support, there is no way in hell that Hal’s going to turn that down. 

As Bruce wraps his arms around Hal, he asks seriously, "Do you really think I'm just bad at math?"

Hal laughs, "Of course I do!  Just look at how you told me my odds.  31% chance of dying?  Dude, if you had told me straight that I had a 69% chance of winning, I would have been all on board!  69!  The sexiest of numbers!  How could you fuck that up?"

Bruce's huff ruffles Hal's hair, "That is specifically why I didn't tell you that."

Hal chuckles, "And that's why you are boring.  And Lex is going to leave you for me."

Bruce snorts, "No, Lex would have said 31% as well."

Overly dramatic, Hal slouches into Bruce's side and grouches, "Yuck, you two are really made for each other.  I don't think we can be friends anymore."

With calm conviction, Bruce says plainly, "That's a lie."

And as much as Hal wants to refute it, he grumbles into the darkness, "Yeah, that's a lie."

Notes:

Hey everybody! Wow-ee, did this week kick me in the teeth. But I was able to get this chapter done! Yay! This chapter had me flip floppiting, but I am happy with how it turned out and hope y'all like it! I always like when Hal and Bruce can be bros. :)

Seriously though, this was a rough week, and a rough chapter to write, so I just want to let all of you know: I really appreciate you taking the time to read my stuff, and send me all your comments and support. There's been so many times in the past months that when I need a pick-me-up, I will just go and read all your amazing comments and the make me smile! I am happy and hopefully that my story brings you all equal amounts of joy, and I hope this holiday season is kind to you! All my love, me!

That said, the next chapter is going to be amazing!!! Stay tuned next week!

Chapter 35: The Reporter, Part 1

Summary:

Beliefs and truths don't mix.

Clark is… processing.  

And it is going to take some time.

For you see, in Clark's heart and in his head are pillars; supporting structures that uphold everything that make him who he is. Pillars made of his morals, his beliefs, his truths.  These pillars have been made over his lifetime through experience and through example.  Brick by brick, these pillars have been created by the things he has seen, by the things he has experienced, and most importantly, they have been built by the people he loves.  

In the forefront are pillars that grew with his powers. Lessons he learned and truths that he believes;  the foundation that represents all that is Superman.  What it truly means to be a hero.

A hero is created by his actions, not by his powers.

Everyone is worth saving.

Always, there will be light.

While these pillars are the mantras of Superman, there are other, more simple pillars.  Yet these pillars are even more important. For these pillars were built before Clark’s powers even manifested.  These pillars are the very core of what makes Clark Kent ‘Clark Kent’.  These pillars are forged by the kind words of his parents, his friends, his teachers.  Obvious words repeated again and again until Clark was old enough, wise enough to understand their real worth.  They are the fundamental requirements of being merely human .

Be kind.

Be honest.

Be forgiving.

Be patient.

Be good .

But of course, Clark has his flaws; flaws that have been built into pillars.  For there are times when a pillar is built by consensus, by pattern, by a stereotype.  Because that is in our nature, all of our natures.   It is ingrained in our minds to mimic each other’s behavior, to learn from another’s beliefs and their mistakes.  Their survival can be used to sustain your survival.  Thus, it is monumental to heed the words of our elders, to learn from their folly.  

So when you are raised in Smallville, there are certain beliefs and truths you just know, from years and years of heeding people's warnings, from listening to their follies. You know to avoid Ol’ Henry’s bulls. You know not to eat Ms. Kingsley’s cooking.  You know not to ice-skate on Hurley Lake.   And most important of all: the town’s catchphrase that rolls off of people’s tongues like an accursed pray and a childhood rhyme all wrapped in one.  

Do not trust a Luthor. 

Clark knows this. He's heard it a million times. This pillar of belief has been in the back of Clark's mind for as long as he can remember. Based on the town's bitter rumors, built by his father's harsh words, and reinforced by the rantings of the self-same obsessed men.  

Do not trust a Luthor.

They will lie through their teeth.

They will shake hands with crossed fingers. 

They will steal the land out from below your feet, with a smile upon their face.

Luthors are greedy, manipulative bastards that only ever care about themselves.

Luthors are cheats.  Liars. Cowards.  Backstabbers.

And Clark believes this with his entire being.  Though it’s not just from the hearsay.  He knows this from the short, explosive friendship that he had with Lex Luthor, followed by a decade of confrontational terror that tested not only Clark’s strength, but his will and patience.  So, yes, Clark believes it.  You can not trust a Luthor.

Yet, defying all odds, someone that Clark respects, someone that he loves, has challenged this belief.  

Batman trusts Lex Luthor.  

Batman trusts Lex Luthor.

And as Clark stands in the observational theater of the Watchtower’s operating room, watching through the reciprocal mirror as Lex Luthor tries to save Hal Jordan’s life, Clark can’t seem to fathom, Why ?

Why would Batman allow Luthor into the Watchtower?

Why would Batman allow Luthor to operate on Hal?

Why would Batman trust Luthor?

As the sound of the heart monitor goes dead for the third time, Luthor's face turns grim behind his mask as he charges the defibrillators.  Clark watches with an equally grim face, for he is afraid.  Though he is not afraid for Hal.  That grim look on Luthor's face is the same committed, mad-driven look Luthor gets when he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.  The fact that that crazed commitment is being focused on saving Hal's life, Clark is pretty sure that Luthor would fight the devil himself to keep Hal alive.  

So, no, Clark is not afraid for Hal.  Clark is afraid for himself. With the sheer dedication that Luthor is exhibiting to save a mere Justice Leaguer's life, Clark's world is tilting on its axis.

There is a sound of charged electricity filling the air, followed by a loud thud and then a beat of a heart.  Clark releases the breath he didn't know he was holding.  However, Clark is not relieved.  His sigh is one of resignation.  For he knows that finally, bitterly, it's time to reevaluate that pillar.  And that's what scares Clark the most.  How do you reevaluate one of your most fundamental beliefs without doubting the others?  

Without looking back, Clark turns around and leaves the room.  For while he dreads it, Clark knows he must do it. 

It’s time to find the truth about Lex Luthor. 

While Clark knows that this is going to be difficult, that this is going to be hurt, he knows he must do this. For one of the things that Clark respects above all else, one of the reasons he became a reporter, is the truth.  And it seems that Clark’s been blinding himself from the truth for too long.

---

When Clark gets to the bottom of the stairs, he sees Barry, Diana and Dinah sitting on the floor outside the operating room.  The two women are sandwiching Barry, trying to comfort the clearly distraught man.  When Barry hears Clark’s footsteps, he looks up sharply; his face a mess of tears, fear and pitiful expectation.  Having no good news, Clark holds up his hands in a calming manner to placate as he says sadly, “He’s still not in the clear.”  

It’s painful to watch Barry’s heart break as he tries to swallow a sob.  Unable to see his friend so upset, Clark tries to comfort him, “But you know Luthor’s being his overly obsessed self, so technically there’s no one better to have in there.” As Clark says that, he’s surprised that he actually means that.  Apparently Barry believes that too, for the words seem to comfort him a little.  

However, Barry still looks miserable.  Seeing his friends sitting on the floor waiting for the news has Clark fidgeting, wanting something, anything to do.  Putting up his hand, Clark volunteers, “I am going to go get blankets.”   And yes, Clark could use his superspeed to grab them, but for some reason, speeding through things seems inappropriate right now.  

As he starts walking, he hears footsteps behind him.  Turning his head, he sees Diana following him.   When she catches up, she loops her arm through his and smiles kindly, “Clark, are you okay?”

Not knowing if she’s just asking, or if she can see the melancholy that he feels, he tries to smile but he knows it looks a little crooked.  “I'm fine.  Just… Just worrying.”

She hums in understanding, leaning her head against his arm as they continue to walk.  In the comfortable silence, Clark finds himself talking.  “So, you met Luthor recently?” 

She hums in answer.  Clark has been concerned nervous curious about his friends meeting his old rival.  With the new thoughts twirling in his head, Clark ends up asking, “When you met him, what was the most surprising thing to you?”

Diana chuckles, “Will this be on the record, mister reporter?”

Blushing at being called out, Clark answers a little unsure, “Well… No?”

Diana takes a second to think about her answer before saying surely, ”I was most surprised by his kindness.”

The answer actually makes Clark stop.  Bewildered, he turns to her, “Kindness?”

Diana smiles warmly as she confirms, “Yes.  His kindness.  When I was at the Wayne Manor, Bruce was currently housing two wonderfully excitable women.  I found them delightful, though to some, they may be considered an acquired taste.

"While Lex could have easily avoided them, ignored them, instead, he was kind to them.  More so, I dare say he was quite smitten with them. He did everything they asked without question or delay.  From dancing to painting their nails.”

Almost in disbelief, Clark blurts out, “He painted their nails?”

She nods as she pulls them towards the supply closet, “Mine as well, when I asked.”

As they start pulling blankets out, Clark pauses at a thought.  Something he knew long ago, but had forgotten.  He says softly, “I remember Lex used to paint.”

Diana hums knowingly, “I believe he still does.  His art collection is quite extensive.  I believe I have even seen a piece or two of his, but neither were signed so I could not verify.”

Curious, Clark asks, “They any good?”

Nodding, Diana dumps some pillows on top of Clark’s armful of blankets, “I would own one if the opportunity arose.”

Clark finds himself saying fondly, “He always has to be the best at everything, doesn’t he?”

Picking up her own armful, Diana says softly, “I have a feeling that Lex's need to excel is compensation for the things he could never exceed at.”

Having an inkling of what those failures could be, Clark changes the topic as they head back to the group, “So, you were part of some kind of sleepover?”

Nodding, Diana confirms, “That is what Harley called it.”

The name causes Clark to stop, “Harley?  Harley Quinn?”

Diana sighs fondly, “I can see your concern.  But Clark, do remember how mindful Batman is of all his rogues.”  

Continue walking, Clark snorts, “Right.  Of course he knows if Wayne was housing Harley.”  However, now that he said it, he frowns, “So what? Is Wayne adopting villains now?  Can you do that?”

Diana’s laugh echoes down the hall. 

When they finally turn the corner, Barry perks up, “What was so funny?”

Clark drops all the blankets on top of Barry, smothering him.  “We were talking about how apparently Wayne is now adopting villains.”

Peeking through the blankets, Barry says excitedly, “Oh, maybe I can get him to adopt some of mine.”

Chuckling, Clark helps lay the blankets out.  When Diana joins the other two on the floor, Clark throws the biggest blanket over the top of them, tucking them in.  However, the moment his arms are empty, Clark feels the need to do something again.  Waiting has never been his thing. He’s always been a fixer, and there are rarely issues that he can’t fix with his hands or his might.

Apparently Dinah catches him fidgeting, for she says warmly, “Arthur was making everyone cocoa.  Maybe he’d like some help?”

Following up, Diana asks, “Maybe you could grab Barry something to eat too?”

Remembering why they are here, Barry deflates, “I don’t think I could possibly eat.”  However, his stomach growls loudly, startling a laugh from everyone.  Childishly, Barry grumbles, “..Okay, maybe I could eat.”

Chuckling, Clark heads to the kitchen.  When he gets to the kitchen, Arthur is at the stove, stirring a pot of cocoa.  He looks up when he hears Clark.  Nodding in greeting, he asks, “How’s Flyboy doing?”

Sighing, Clark says, “Still not in the clear.”

Nodding grimly, Arthur turns back to the pot. However, he grunts, “You listening in?”

Clark shakes his head, “No.  Too stressful.  I’d probably end up suggesting the scalpel right out of Luthor’s hand.”

Arthur looks up sharply, clearly concerned, “They cut him open?”

Startled, Clark backtracks, “What? Oh!  No!  Sorry, just a..”  Sighing as the weight of the day seems to drain the energy from him, he whispers brokenly, “ .. just a joke...”

Seeing the Man of Steel so defeated, Arthur grabs a cup and fills it up.  As he hands it to Clark, he barks gruffly, “Here.”

Accepting the cup, Clark smiles sadly.  As he takes a sip and savors the warm comfort, Clark takes a moment and just thinks.  However, with his friend in the OR and his beliefs in question, his mind doesn’t go far.  As he watches Arthur pour the rest of the cocoa into cups, Clark asks nonchalantly, “So, how was meeting Luthor?”

Not looking up from this task, Arthur grunts, “I like him.”

Not expecting that answer, Clark chokes on his cocoa.  Seeing Clark’s disbelief, Arthur just shrugs, “Dude’s got wicked dry humor, and everything he says, he says it straight.  Gotta say, didn’t expect him to be such an honest dude.”  Arthur pauses and looks at Clark, “You know he’s allergic to everything, right?”  

Clark frowns in thought.  In realization, he confesses softly, “Yeah… I did know that.”

Looking back down to the last cup of cocoa, Arthur frowns, “This would probably kill him.” Huffing, he continues with a crooked smile, “Surprised he isn’t dead yet.”  Before grabbing the cups to take to the group, Arthur claps Clark on the shoulder, “Anyways, he’s a weird dude, but he’s not bad.”  Cups gathered, Arthur leaves Clark in thought.  

As he stares at his cup, Clark frowns.  Unfortunately, the cup has no answers, though Clark doesn’t know what the problem is anyways.  He just knows that there’s a thought in his head that’s spiraling and it’s getting overwhelming.  Whatever this gumbled, illusive thought is, Clark just knows that the more he thinks about it, the more his heart aches.  When, finally, the thought does crystalize, Clark gasps.  It is with a bitter breath that Clark realizes that it’s been a long time since he thought about Lex Luthor as a person.  

When Clark realizes this, really realizes it, he feels himself shake from the very center of his core.  Be kind.  Because Lex Luthor is a person.  Someone that Clark once knew.  But for too long, Luthor’s been the Villain.  The Business Man.   But before Lex was the Villain, before he was the Business Man, Lex Luthor used to be a friend.  He use to be The Friend.  The person Clark had gone to for advice, for help.  Luthor was The Friend before...  everything.  Before Luthor started asking, demanding the truth that Clark wasn’t ready to give.  

Clark thought this was going to hurt, but this hollowness is worse.  Because the more Clark thinks about it, the more he starts to think that maybe this pillar of belief, this truth folly idea that you should never trust a Luthor was just an exc-

With a staggering breath, Clark grabs a bag of marshmallows and flees leaves his thoughts the room.

---

When Clark nears the group, Barry sees the bag and makes a grabby motion, “Empty calories!  Yes please!”

As Clark hands over the bag, Dinah speaks up, “Arthur says you were asking about Luthor...”  

It takes all the strength of Superman to not cringe flinch frown.  Because Clark is done talking about Luthor.  Forever, if needs be.  However, that is not his fate, for Barry starts talking a mile a minute.

“Oh my god, did you guys see the Lexpo videos?  Not only are they starting group testing for Livefire, they are moving onto bionic prosthetics?!  And I get to help with that?!  What is my life?!  I am flabbergasted that Lex even let’s me in his labs, let alone work on his projects.”

Dinah hugging Barry to her, “Why wouldn’t he want such a brilliant mind working for him?”

Barry frowns, confused, “Um?  I’m me?  You know me, right?  The fast-talking rambling, clumsy, static-shock king of Central City?  I’m a terror in a lab.  I’m surprised I still have my job.  And Lex is letting this trainwreck work on delicate projects? Fool!  Fool I say!”

Diana hums in consideration, “I feel you sell both of yourselves short.  From the time I have seen, Lex seems very patient with you in his lab.”

Barry stares at her wide-eyed, “I know, but why?!  He’s so chill, it’s like a superpower.  He is like default cruise control.  He just lets me talk and talk and talk, and he’s always willing to explain and repeat things, and he doesn’t seem to mind me fiddling with everything.  I could have broken everything!” 

Barry raises his hands, looking like he is about to start laughing in an evil scientist, maniac way.  However, his laugh turns into a wheeze as the OR doors open.  Everyone is instantly on their feet in hope, fear, anticipation.  With bated breath, they watch Batman walk out.  He scans the gathered team and then says with a firm, calm voice, “We’re good.”

And that’s all it takes.  As one, the group breathes a sigh of relief.  And not even the strength of Superman can stop the tears falling from Clark’s eyes.  All the emotion, all the stress of the last week flies away as he gasps a sob.  In this moment, knowing that Hal is alive, Clark feels himself center, like everything is going to be okay.  

So wrapped up in the euphoric moment, Clark barely notices Luthor wheel Hal out; an unconscious, but very alive Hal.  But Clark’s eyes are drawn to Luthor.  Luthor looks tired.  Like bone-tired, soul-aching exhaustion.  It's more unsettling than Clark would like to admit.  Actually, if Clark is going to be honest, he can’t remember the last time he’s ever seen Luthor look anything but put together.

And Clark’s dysphoria continues as he watches his friends each give their thanks to Luthor. 

When Batman asks Arthur to wheel Hal to the med room, Arthur agrees.  However, before he does, he claps Luthor on the shoulder, giving an affectionate squeeze.  

There is a flash of lightning, and in a Flash, Barry is wrapped around Luthor in a hug, whispering reverent thank yous into Lex’s scrubs.

Once Barry let’s go, together Diana and Dinah pull Luthor into a hug.  And with a dazzling smile that warms even Clark’s confused heart, Diana says warmly, “Good job.”  And Lex’s answering smile causes that warmth to vanish from Clark.  It feels like a lifetime since Clark’s seen Lex smile like that.  It’s a bright, fond smile; one that he only ever used on Ma.

As the feeling of heartache comes back, Clark barely notices Batman approach Lex.  However, he watches mesmerized as Batman reaches up and grasps Lex by the bicep, giving it the slightest squeeze.  The moment is so small, so little, it would seem like nothing.  But that moment is everything, for as he squeezes, Batman emotes. The smallest flicker of a gratitude flashes across Batman’s face.  

Perplexed, Clark watches as all his friends, his closest confidants, accept Lex into their lives, accepting his help and his efforts.  But seeing Lex accept them in turn breaks Clark's heart.  For he sees a specter of what could have been. 

And in this heartbreaking revelation, Clark knows it is time to admit the truth.  He has seen too much proof to deny it any longer.  It's time to admit he was wrong.

Closing his eyes, Clark takes a deep breath.  And he lets it go.

In the silence of the moment, an ancient pillar of belief collapses into dust.

Notes:

Aw yiss, Clark has a heart to heart with himself. Smallville Clark drove me crazy. (And he definitely drove Lex crazy.) Rationalize him took some thinks.

Chapter 36: The Reporter, Part 2

Summary:

Cinnamon rolls and interviews do mix!

Clark is willing to forgive Lex Luthor.  

After everything that has happened, Clark can feel that he is ready to.  He knows that the shadow that has been hounding him all these years will finally be lifted, and like a curse, he would be released from its poisonous grasp. 

Yet, it feels like he needs closure.  A closure he’s not sure how to get.  For the time Lex was in the Watchtower, Lex was focused on Hal; something Clark didn’t want to interrupt.  However, once Hal was cleared and released, Lex returned to earth.  

With that opportunity missed, Clark is unsure how to proceed.  After everything that has happened between them, Clark feels uncomfortable reaching out to Lex after all these years.  He’s afraid that any approach to contact Lex would be disastrous.  Unfortunately, over the years, every time that Clark had gone to talk to Lex it was either to investigate or accuse him of wrong doings, and that precedence would sully any current attempts to make amends.  

Thus, unsure of how to handle the situation, Clark has decided to not do anything.  Unless the next time they meet up is natural and unforced, Clark doesn’t think their first real meeting will go well.  But as Ma says, ‘what be will be’.  And against his better judgment, Clark is suspicious that he isn't the only one needing closure. 

---

Running late for work, Clark steps out of the elevator into the Daily Planet’s bullpen just in time to see Lois walking towards him quickly. She smiles coyly at him, her call echoing through the room, “Oh Smallville, you are in trouble`.”   

Seeing her brisk walk as she is pulling on her coat, Clark realizes that she’s actually heading towards the elevator.  Ignoring her call out, he asks, “Where are you going?”

Not slowing her pace, she smirks, “Chasing a lead.  Literally.  They just got caught by the cops.”

Fiddling with his bag strap, Clark chuckles, “And I'm the one in trouble?”

“Yep.”  As she nears him, she stops for just a second to peck him on the cheek.  Up close, she nods to Perry’s office and whispers seriously but with a sing-song tone,  “We have visitors~.”  Not waiting for his reply, she pats his cheek and walks away.

Confused, Clark looks towards the office.  When he activates his xray vision, he freezes.  Inside the office talking to Perry is Bruce and Lex Luthor-Wayne.  

Clark’s trying not to freak out.  It’s not that he didn’t realize that Lex married Wayne, the owner of Daily Planet.  It just wasn't top priority.  To be fair, he was just more worried about the Justice League aspect of their union.  However, now having Lex Luthor first in the Watchtower, and now the Daily Planet, Clark is starting to feel real self-conscious.

With a thousand thoughts running through his brain, Clark slowly, mindlessly walks to his desk.  Only as he nears it does he notice that there is someone sitting on it.  Frowning down at the petite brunette, Clark belatedly recognizes her as Lex Luthor’s Public Relations director, Angela Jones.

Feeling his gaze, she looks up from her phone and smiles, “Here's the man of the hour!”  She jumps off the desk and skips up to Clark.  Once close, she turns around and holds up her phone.  “Going to take a selfie! I want you to look surprised, but cute.  But good surprised!”  She looks over her shoulder, directing him while placing her hand on her chest in pageantry, “Like, ‘hey, what's that?  What, everybody loves..me?!’”

Confused and startled, Clark barely has time to even look up before the phone flash goes off.  Angela prances away and looks at her phone.  Seeing the taken picture, she coos before looking up at Clark, “Oh, I like this picture!  You look so confused!”

Unable to stop the frown on his face, Clark admits, “I, um, am confused?”

Angela just continues to coo at him, “Aww.  You’re so cute!  Too cute!”  She then stops and looks around, “Jennie!  Jennie, come look.  And be honest!”

Following Angela’s search, Clark notices an intimidating woman slowly walking towards them. Jennifer Rivers, Luthor’s lawyer; a woman as dangerous as her boss.  Clark tries to keep the concern and fear from his eyes.  

Once she is near them, instead of looking at Angela's phone, she slowly looks Clark over, tilting her head from side to side disinterestedly. Even underneath the bored look, Clark feels like she is finding him wanting. 

Apparently having found what she was looking for, she sighs and pulls out a handful of bills from her purse.  As she hands the money over to Angela, who accepts it glibly, Clark asks confused, “What is going on?”

While counting the money, Angela answers nonchalantly, “I’m just awesome.  When I saw a picture of you, I just knew you were a cinnamon roll.  And now I have monies to prove it.”

Jennifer sighs again, her voice put upon, “Our apologies, Angela has a betting problem.”

Angela sticks her tongue out at Jennifer, “No, you have a betting problem.”  She leans into Clark, whispering, “And I knew that before I even met her.”

Avoiding the topic, Clark clarifies, pointing down at his desk, “Um, sorry.  I mean..  Why are you .. here?”

Angela grins as she jumps back up on his desk, “Oh, so, fun times!  Since you are a reporter, you know the gossip frenzy that’s exists since Lex and Bruce got married?  Lex has had us keeping a tight lid on that, so everyone's starving for info.  Well, they, Lex and Bruce, as a couple, have just been nominated for Humanitarian of the Year.”  

She raises her hands, her whole attitude smug, “So, you know, kind of a big deal.  With that, I was finally able to convince Lexie to do a full media spread; interviews, articles, the whole shabang.” She pauses, and with a flourish spreads her hands in front of her as if announcing a headliner, “Getting to know the Luthor-Waynes!”  She then looks to Clark, waiting.

Unsure how to reply, Clark can’t stop the “Uhm?” from escaping his lips.

Clearly bored with the conversation but taking pity on Clark, Jennifer clarifies as she inspects her nails, “Lex requested you specifically to write the article.”

Flustered, Clark stutters, “M-me?  Why me? I’m just a…”

Apparently her boredom was a ruse, for Jennifer instantly looks at Clark with sharp eyes and a knowing smirk, “A Pulitzer prize winner?”

Unable to stop himself, Clark rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “That? That was just..” 

Seeing his discomfort, Angela coos, “Oh, look at him, so flustered and cute!  Do you not know how to take compliments, sweety?”

Before he can reply, Perry’s office door opens, causing everyone to stop and look over.  Perry steps out, followed by Lex and Bruce.  Without missing a beat, Perry points at Clark and shouts, “Smallville, don't mess this up.” 

From Perry’s tight lip and deep scowl, Clark knows that means ‘Don’t fuck this up, or I’ll fire you!.’  And doing a 'once-in-a-lifetime' interview with the owner of the Daily Planet, Clark can see it for the threat it is.

Taking a gulp, Clark nods.  Satisfied, Perry turns and shakes hands with Lex and Bruce.  In the quiet conversation not meant for others, Clark can hear Perry say, “He might seem a lumbering dolt, but he is one of the best we got.”

Preventing himself from scoffing fondly at Perry’s hard-shell, soft interior, Clark is almost startled when he hears Lex's confident, “I know.”

Stunned, he watches as Lex and Bruce leave Perry and start to walk over to his desk.  As they get near, Angela jumps down from his desk and says loudly, “Brucie!  You need to adopt this man right meow!”

Scoffing at his PR lead, Lex says fondly, “Clark is a grown man, I doubt that will be necessary.”

Angela walks up to Lex and looks up, her face contemplative.  She says sagely, “Lex.. I’ve decided that sometimes you are wrong.  Bruce taught me that.”  She then skips in front of Bruce, and grasps his face between her hands, she says encouragingly, “You are allowed to adopt whoever you want.  Don’t ever lose that.”

Pulling his face from her hands, Bruce laughs, “You just want me to adopt you .”

Her voice is haughty as she turns away from him and looks back down at her phone, “I can neither confirm nor deny that claim.”

At the lull that follows, Lex looks over to Clark and nods his head in greeting, “Clark.”

Finding himself actually nervous about their first real, normal interaction in years, Clark chuckles nervously, “Um.  So, Angela was telling me about…”  Flustered, he flutters a hand trying to encompass everything.  Yet his nervousness could not stop his curiosity, for he blurts out, “Why me?”  Seeing the amused look on Lex’s face, Clark finds himself blushing.  Ignoring Angela’s coo, Clark continues, “All my articles..  I mean, after.. everything…”

Seeing Clark struggle with his curiosity and modesty, Lex states plainly, “You are a skilled writer Clark.  You are articulate and inventive.  You are creatively contentious yet you have never written a negative thing about me.”

Clark has never felt more uncomfortable in his life.  Half of his portfolio is articles on Luthor.  Sheepishly, he asks with timid doubt, “Uh, have you read.. My work?”

Lex chuckles as he admits, “Every single one.”  Seeing Clark even more confused, Lex continues, “You have written numerous articles about me.  Stated many facts about my businesses and ethics, but you have always been unbiased on every single article.”

At this, Jennifer speaks up, “It is actually quite impressive.  It is why we have never sued you for slander.”

Angela tuts, “You mean, it’s why Lex wouldn’t let you sue him for slander.  You would have sued him anyways.”  

Jennifer huffs, “That is neither here nor there.”  She turns back to Clark, “Though I will admit I do enjoy your backhanded compliments.  They are quite imaginative.”

Bruce chuckles fondly, “My favorite is when you called Lex a king cobra with an ouroboros complex.”  

Clark blushes at the reminder.  Ouroboros, the symbol of death and rebirth.  But in the context of Lex's aggressively growing monopoly, Clark was using it as a metaphor; a reference to a snake so used to eating other snakes it ends up swallowing its own tail.

Waving away the discomfort, Bruce continues, “But I agree with Lex, your work is really good.  I don’t think there’s a single article I haven't liked.”

If Clark’s blush could grow any brighter...  Surprised, he asks shyly, “ You've read my articles?”

Looking equal parts amused and smug, Bruce replies as he waves around, “Well, I do own here.  Why wouldn’t I want to know who’s representing me?”

Having no reply, Clark smiles helplessly.

Coming to his aid, Lex says surly, “Even after all these years, Clark still has issues accepting things.”  He then pauses, and giving Clark a knowing smile, and finishes fondly, “Like compliments.”

Oh.  That hurt like nostalgia.  How long has it been since Lex Luthor has ever said anything fond about Clark?  With a crooked smile, Clark rubs the back of his neck and admits shyly, “I’m working on it.”

Lex tilts his head in consideration before confessing softly, “So am I.”

Interrupting the moment, Bruce claps his hands, “Great.  Well, we already cleared your schedule with Perry, so Angie’s got the details.  We’ll see you next week, Kent.”  He starts to walk towards the elevator, but he claps Clark on the shoulder as he goes by.

Confused by the abrupt departure, Clark frowns as Lex follows his husband out without another word.  Turning to Angela, he is startled when she slaps a folder against his chest.  

As she waits patiently, he slowly opens it up and reads the context.  However, he only finds one sheet of laminated paper; a schedule.  Picking it up, he turns it over and finds it blank.  Confused, he turns to Angela, “There’s no preset questions?”

Shaking her head, she pops the ‘p’ in “Nope.  Like Lex said, he wants your unbiased narrative.  You are the reporter.  Ask what the people want to know!”  Seeing his continued disbelief, she raises her hands in a shoo motion, “You have free reign, go crazy.”

Jennifer walks up to him, and says kindly, “We know you are going to do a good job.”  However, her kindness evaporates as her tone turns condescending, “Of course, now that we’ve met, I would feel just terrible if I had to run you through the legal wringer.”

As Clark blanches at the thought, Angela bats at Jennifer, “No, no threatening cinnamon rolls.  Bad lawyer lady.”  She bats Jennifer again, this time grabbing her wrist and dragging her towards the elevator.  As they leave, she waves back at Clark, “Bye Cinnamon Roll!”

In his dazed confusion, Clark can only eavesdrop as the two women walk away.

Clearly under no real restraint to follow the petite woman, Jennifer still follows.  When they are out of ear shot, she huffs, “You are using that word too much.”

Over her shoulder, Angela asks coyly, “What, cinnamon rolls?  I thought you liked cinnamon rolls .  Who doesn’t like cinnamon rolls ?”

As they get on the elevator, Jennifer sneers, “If you think that will work on me, you are sorely mistaken.”

Acting like she didn’t hear Jennifer, Angela says, “Everyone likes cinnamon rolls.   Cinnamon rrooolllss .”

As the elevator doors start to close, the last thing Clark hears is Jennifer sigh, then a put upon, “Where’s the nearest Cinnabon?”

And as Clark looks back down at the schedule, he feels lost.  Free reign.  Free reign to ask Lex Luthor anything. 

Clark is confused, perplexed.  He doesn’t know how he feels.  With a sigh, he decides he needs to go to the one person that always settles his heart and his head.

---

After explaining everything to her, Clark sighs, "Ma, I just don’t know what to do."

Finishing plating up dessert, she carries the plates over to the table, setting one down in front of Clark.  Smiling down at the cinnamon roll, he smiles up at her, “Thanks Ma, I had a craving.”

Smiling as she sits down, she says, “Well, who doesn’t like cinnamon rolls?”  Waiting for the roll to cool, she reaches over to Clark and grabs his hand gently, “Now tell me, what are you so unsure about.”

Clark frowns, “I know Luthor set this up.  And I don’t believe it’s nefarious.  It’s just that.  After..  After he saved Hal’s life.  I..”  Taking a second to collect himself, Clark looks at her with conviction, “There was a moment.  A moment where I could feel myself forgiving Lex.  But forgiveness doesn’t mean that I don’t have questions.  Is that what he is doing?  Is he actually offering to answer my questions?  If so, what do I even ask?”  Picking up his fork, Clark sighs wistfully, “I just feel like this is going to blow up in my face.”

Squeezing his hand, Ma says, “You will just have to decide what's important to you.”  At Clark’s put upon face, she smirks but then says softly, “But also remember.  If Lex is giving you this opportunity, be sure to consider what will be important to him as well.”  

Seeing that Clark is actually thinking about that, Ma gives him a second.  Then, leaning forward to push his hair out of his face, she says kindly, “It was understandable why your two’s friendship didn’t work when you were younger.  Lex was so busy trying to show his worth, where you had to do everything to hide yours.  Unfortunately, that led to too much trouble.”  Her hand moves down to cup his cheek as she confesses softly, “I think you broke each other’s hearts.”

Shaking away the melancholy, she leans back and picks up her own fork.  She says sagely, “But you have grown, both of you.  You have grown into remarkable men who have found your place in the world.  A place where your worth doesn’t need to be hidden nor flaunted.  And this entire time, you two have been watching each other, challenging each other.”  She huffs, “And yes there’s been pain, and yes, there’s been heartache.  But I truly believe that you two were only ever making each other better; better at what you do. Better at who you are.

"Cause nobody has ever challenged you more than Lex.  And no one has ever made Lex feel like he had to do more than you.  But through it all, you two made each other better.  And it seems that you have finally gotten to the point of not needing to fight anymore.  You have gotten to the point that you can forgive each other.”

Pausing, she says surely, “The next step is finding out what really matters now.”

Leaning against his hand, Clark smiles at her, “Thanks Ma.”

Happy that her words helped, Ma smiles back, “You’re welcome, honey.”

Before digging into his cinnamon roll, Clark confesses, “You know you make me better everyday too.”

Blushing, Ma half-heartedly swats at him, “Oh, you.”  She then picks up the schedule Clark had discarded on the table.  “What a busy day.   You get to interview them separately as well as together?”  She lights up as she suggests excitedly, “Oh, you can do candid questions, like the Newlywed show!”

Unable to stop his chuckle, Clark concedes, “I’ll see what I can do, Ma.”

---

When Clark gets to Lex Tower, he still feels unprepared.  But he feels committed.  And as the elevator rises, he steels himself.  However, as the elevator doors open, his resolve is stunted by a bright flash.  “Hey Cinnamon Roll!”

Blinking the flash from his eyes, Clark frowns, “Hello Ms. Jones.”

Ignoring his discomfort, she walks right up to him like before, as she announces, “Selfie time!”  However, instead of using her phone, she is now using a very expensive looking camera.

As Angela tries to hold up the heavy camera in position with both hands, the dull voice of Mercy echoes through the living room, “You are going to drop that… Again.”  

Once the bright flash goes off, Clark looks around for Mercy.  The entire living room is taken up with photo equipment, mostly obscuring Mercy who is standing in the back, adjusting a lighting pole.

As Angela inspects her new photo, she agrees, “Probably.  But Timmy said that this new one was indestructible.”  She pauses and looks up at Clark earnestly, “I kinda want to test it.  Should I?”  Without waiting for his reply, she instantly drops the camera.  Seeing such an expensive piece of equipment fall, Clark’s eyes widen and he catches it without thought.  

Indifferent to the feat of agility, Angela takes the camera back with a cheer, “You live another day, camera!”  Changing topic without thought, she then tells Clark, “So, you are interviewing Brucie first.” Searching the room and not finding him, she frowns, “He should be out here by now.”  Skipping towards the hall, she bellows, “Brucie, if you take any longer, I’m telling Mattie you need a Tiktok account!”

Walking down the hall buttoning his cuffs, Bruce chuckles, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Angie.  The internet loves me.”  When Bruce spots Clark, he walks forward with his hand stretched out to shake, “Clark, right on time.”

Greeting Bruce, Clark looks around at the room of photo equipment, “So, where are we…”

Bruce shrugs, “The sun is out.  Weather’s nice.  I figured we would go on the balcony.”  

Smiling at the thought of doing the interview outside, Clark follows Bruce out of the balcony doors to a set of chairs that have been set up for the interview.  Taking a seat, Clark puts down his bag and pulls out his notepad and recorder.  

Once he sees that Clark has everything ready, Bruce leans back and asks with a grin, “So, what would you like to know?”  

Starting his recorder, Clark nods, and wasting no time, starts the interview.  “Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor.  The two richest men in the world.  Yet, for two people that live in the constant limelight, your relationship has been one of the world’s best kept secrets.  From your friendship to your wedding, you have left the world in suspense. But now, as you give us a peek into your lives, we, the people, want to know everything. 

“So, tell me Mr. Wayne.  The world considers you two the perfect power couple.  For you, what makes your relationship perfect?”

Bruce smiles fondly as he admits warmly, “Lex makes me happier.  He fits into my life easier than anyone else I’ve known.  And it’s not just my life, but my kids’ lives.  He doesn’t care if we stay out late, or what messes we get into.  From me working at Wayne Enterprises, to the Justice League, to all of our small hobbies and projects;  He’s just there, and he gets it. He understands .  He’s like an anchor in the chaos of our lives.”

Smiling in kind, Clark asks, “So, when did you know he was the one?”

Without thought, Bruce states firmly, "Christmas.”  He then smiles and tilts his head, “I mean, I had to noodle on it, but Christmas was the start.”  Bruce then sits up excited, pulling out his phone, “I have pictures!”

Clark can’t stop himself from shaking his head fondly.  In the early years when Wayne was a flirting playboy, Clark had a hard time dealing with him.  However, as Bruce got older and started his family, he slowly transitioned into an eccentric, dotting father figure.  And every reporter knows that if you bring up Bruce’s kids, you will be stuck in fifteen minutes of show-and-tell photos.  And this is a Brucie Wayne Clark is able to deal with just fine.

Leaning forward, Clark watches as Bruce cycles through his Christmas photos, gushing on all the members of his family.  However, when a familiar face catches Clark’s eye, he gasps, “Conner?” 

In the photo, Conner is sitting at the Christmas table drawing fairies on a paper placeholder with a young girl sitting next to him.  Across from them, Lex is motioning to the drawing, apparently giving constructive feedback.

Bruce nods excitedly, “Yeah, Lex’s kid.  He’s great!  He’s been able to visit from time to time.  He really fits in with my kids.  Let me show you!” 

As Bruce swipes through more pictures and keeps talking about their Christmas, Clark finds himself slowly sitting back a little.  It’s only in hindsight that he realizes that in the past few months, Clark can tell that Conner had seemed more settled, calmer.  Like he finally found his place in the world.  How much has that been due to Lex and the Waynes?

Lost in thought, Clark almost misses another familiar face.  He blurts out in surprise, “Ma?!”  The photo is Ma, a soft look of pride on her face as she talks to Lex.  And as much as Clark feels he should be upset about her not telling him about this, he can only shake his head in fond disbelief.  Ma had always had a soft spot for Lex.

Bruce smiles at Clark, “I must say, your mother is a delight.  Having her and Conner over for Christmas had made that the best Christmas, bar none.”

Looking at the pictures and seeing Bruce’s love and excitement, Clark chuckles, “Sure looks that way.”

Bruce’s offer somehow sounds like an order, “You should join us next time.”

The thought of joining Bruce Wayne for Christmas causes Clark to huff, “I don’t know about that.”

Like he expected the response, Bruce just shrugs, “Lex said you used to be friends.”

With a pinched face, Clark says softly, “It got complicated, a few years back.”

Leaning back, Bruce stops and looks Clark over.  He then says just as softly, “I’m sure it did.  Lex doesn’t talk about you a lot.”  This actually causes Clark to frown.  Though, from what Clark has seen, that might actually be the truth.  Stuck on the one thought, he barely hears Bruce continue.

“But the one thing he has told me was that his greatest regret is that he was unable to make your friendship work.”

The words cause Clark’s heart to seize with surprise and sorrow.  If Lex truly felt that way..  If there was a real chance that maybe..

Trying not to get stuck on the what if’s, Clark finds himself shrugging and asking rhetorically, “What can I do?”

Either not seeing or understanding the extent of Clark’s dilemma, Bruce just shrugs, “I think you might be overthinking it. Lex is a businessman.  You’d be surprised what a handshake could do.”  Seeing Clark’s disbelieving face, Bruce smirks confidently, “Just tell him you want to start over, try again.  Here, let me show you.”

Bruce sits forward and a serious look falls over his face; A look conveying conviction and promise. 

With a voice deep with determination, Bruce says seriously, “Clark Kent, I feel like we should start over.”  Slowly, he offers his hand as he continues, “My name is Bruce Wayne.  Prince of Gotham. Justice League Benefactor.  Billionaire.  Philanthropist.  Vigilante.  And I would like to be your friend.”

Taking Bruce seriously, and listening to everything he is saying, it is when Clark is reaching for his hand that he stubbles over the last title.  “Vigi-?”  As he looks up at Bruce, Clark stops.

Oh.  

Ohh.  

Well, that makes no-...  

..

Actually…

Actually, that makes a lot of sense.  

As the inkling of the thought sprouts in Clark’s head, everything over the last year, thoughts and questions and clues, all fell into place like dominos.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

Batman kissed Lex Luthor at the Christmas gala.

Batman announced to the world he was friends with Lex Luthor.

Batman got into a donation war with Lex Luthor.

Batman is seen with Lex Luthor at every single gala.

Bruce Wayne called Lex Luthor instead of raiding his subsidiary.

Bruce Wayne was arguing science with Lex Luthor, instead of getting upset about the Kryptonite.

Bruce Wayne got the reactor failsafes from Lex Luthor.

Bruce Wayne watched Lex Tower fall.

Lex Luthor spent Christmas with Batman .

Lex Luthor has been living with Batman .

Lex Luthor married Batman .

Yet, with all the thoughts cascading in his head, Clark can’t stop the grin from his face as he seizes up Bruce’s hand in a firm grip, “Bruce, I would like that very much.”

And as they shake hands, Clark can’t stop himself from chuckling, “You sly old dog.”

Letting go, Clark leans back and runs his hands through his hair.  And with all the thoughts still settling in his head, Clark finds himself shaking his head softly, “It’s truly unbelievable.”  Another chuckle rips from his lips, “And you married Lex?”  

At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, Clark brings his hands down onto his knees and huffs, “It’s just... growing up, Lex was so stubborn, obsessive, paranoid, and I never would have thought-” 

Clark stops as a new idea forms, and he laughs as he wiggles a finger at Bruce, “You two are birds of a feather, aren’t you?”

Seeing his friend’s mirth, Bruce slowly sits back, keeping his face blank as he states, “We seem to have paired up well.”

Seeing the standoff behavior, Clark sighs and shakes his head fondly.  He then looks up and gives Bruce a calm, happy smile as he says truthfully, “I’m happy for you Bruce.”

Struck with another rogue thought, Clark guffaws, “B! B, you got married at the Chapel of Justice!  By a you-impersonator!”

Waiting for Clark’s laughter to die down, Bruce’s only defense is a gruff, “It was Lex’s idea.”

Getting his laughter under control, but unable to keep the blinding grin from his face, Clark says, “I just.. I just can’t fathom it.  I am shocked and awed.  Shocked and awed.” Another chuckle breaks free, ruining the serious tone he was going for.

Sitting back, Clark takes a big breath, and in the provided silence, lets all of his new thoughts settle and form.  With the sun shining down on him, with his best friend sitting next to him in comfortable silence, Clark centers himself.  For, even with everything revealed, Clark’s mind still settled on the one question that he had asked before all this.  What can I do?

Straightening up and looking at Bruce again, Clark asks, “Do you really believe that I could just ask to start over?”

Bruce says solemnly, “Lex has already asked.”  Confused, Clark thinks he would have remembered that.  Bruce continues softly, “I doubt you would have noticed.  It took me years to notice that Lex was asking to be my friend.  He doesn’t know how to just ask for things.  Personal things.  Emotionally invested things.  So, like everything else he does, when he wants something, he uses actions to convey his thoughts.”

As Bruce lists off the things, Clark recognizes each one; things he should have known or noticed.

“He’s stopped fighting you.  Except for the Livefire reserve, he’s had all his Kryptonite packed up and locked in a secure, unknown faculty.  He’s giving you a once in a lifetime career opportunity.  He’s even invited Martha and Conner to today’s lunch so you would have moral support.”  Bruce pauses and looks Clark over.  Then softly, “It might not seem like much.  It might not seem like enough, but he’s trying to ask the only way he knows how.”

Reviewing the claims in his head, Clark sees them for the offers they are.  They aren’t apologies, but they are a kindness.  Small, simple kindnesses.  

With that in mind, Clark admits firmly, “I want to talk to him.”

Bruce nods his head, “I’ll go get him.”

As he gets up, he claps Clark on the shoulder before heading inside.

Alone by himself, Clark lays back, soaking in the sun as his mind still reels from all he had learned.  So lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the balcony door open.  However, he does hear Lex call softly, “Clark?”

Looking up, Clark looks over to Lex standing at the door.  And the first thing that he notices is Lex looks tired.  And seeing this man who is always so put together look tired makes Clark feel tired.  Clark can feel the weight and exhaustion cling to him, from all the years spent fighting this man, and dealing with the consequences of their youth.  In the moment, Clark says brokenly, “Lex, I’m tired.”

Staying where he is, Lex frowns and offers kindly, “We can do this another time.”

Whether he meant the interview or their reckoning, Clark smiles sadly.  And he considered it.  Postponing whatever this is. 

However, Clark came here for a reason.  His mother told him that he needed to find what is important to him.  And it isn’t forgiveness.  And it isn’t really closure he wants either.  After everything.  After all that had happened.  The pain, and the sorrow.  And the lies and the deceit.  There is only one thing that is important to Clark now.

Clark stands up and says, “No, Lex.  We do this now.”  Then, with sure steps, he walks toward Lex, stopping right in front of him.  And he extends his hand.

“Lex Luthor.  I feel like we should start over.”  Then, with his kind, bright smile, Clark admits the one thing that was ever important to Lex.  “Hello, my name is Clark Kent.  I am a reporter at the Daily Planet.  I am an alien from outer space.  I am Superman.  And I would like to be your friend.”

Lex looks down at the extending hand, then looks Clark in the eye as he asks with equal parts hope and doubt, “Are you sure?  Growing up, our definition of friend varied greatly.”

And boy did it.  But remembering what his Ma said, Clark says firmly, “We are not who we once were.”  

With a soft smile and a nod, Lex accepts Clark’s hand.  As they shake, Clark’s smile turns blinding.  Then, with a smirk, he says, “Besides, having Batman as a best friend has given me experience with befriending difficult people.”

Lex huffs, and with a smile he admits like he’s telling a secret, “That’s been my experience with Bruce as well.”

Clark’s smile turns soft as he asks, “...Bruce is your best friend?”

Raising an eyebrow, Lex gives Clark a knowing look, “Why do you think I married him?  Nefarious reasons?”

Clark raises his hands in defense, “What? No!”  However, Lex just sighs deeply, causing Clark to give a sheepish grin as he fumbles, “I mean..  Not anymore?  It’s just.  Your marriage was so headlines and paparazzi, I just didn’t process that there was a real relationship, a real friendship there.”  Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Clark apologizes, “Sorry, that was dumb of me….”

A small silence falls between them, but not wanting to break the moment, Clark blurts out, “He’s my best friend too."  ”  He pauses in a reminded realization.  “ I mean, Batman is.... But they are the same person.”  Then, in a disbelieving whine,  “Lex, you married my best friend.”

Watching all of Clark’s fumbles and embarrassment, Lex just smirks, “I did.”

Looking at Lex, Clark admits, “I.. I have so many questions.” 

Lex tilts his head towards the chairs and Clark’s recorder, "As a reporter, I would hope so."       

Reminded why he was originally here, Clark blushes, “Oh, well, I guess we do have an interview to do.”

Lex motions for them to head over to the chairs, “Indeed.  It would be a pity to waste your first of many opportunities.”

Smiling, Clark sits down and picks up his notepad.  He quickly scans over his questions; questions that he thought were important at the time, questions that he thought he needed answers to.  However, as he looks them over, he realizes that they aren’t that important anymore. 

Ripping them out, Clark turns to Lex and asks the most important question he can think of, “So tell me Lex Luthor.  When did you fall in love with Bruce Wayne?”

Notes:

So, I was super worried about this chapter. >< I had it's outline written months ago. However, due to the constant evolution of the story, I didn't think it would give hold up as the conclusion, so I had to redo the whole thing! In the end, I'm happy with it, so hopefully it meets all of your expectations! Only have The Epilogue left! :)

Chapter 37: The Epilogue

Summary:

Friends and Family do mix!

Everyone has secrets.  And Bruce Wayne has many.  Over the years, he has cultivated so many secrets that they are engraved in his very nature; the seams that keep his life private, in order. All of Bruce's secrets make up who he is and there are no secrets that he’d willingly change.  Though, there is one ‘not-so-secret’ secret that he considers the most dangerous, equal parts life-altering and endearing.

Bruce Wayne loves Lex Luthor.

This secret is dangerous to the point that Bruce has destroyed some of his greatest secrets to prove it.  By breaching the wall between Batman and Bruce Wayne. By allowing his friends into his life.  His love for Lex Luthor has altered Bruce’s very life.  And while he doesn’t regret it, there are definitely points in Bruce’s current life where he wishes that he had handled it better.  Wishes that he had really thought about allowing both Lex Luthor and the Justice League into his life, and the disruptions it would have on his life.

---

The first time was happenstance, the second time a coincidence.  But when Bruce finally realized it had become a common occurrence, he stops reading his newspaper, coffee cup in midair.  He slowly looks back and forth between Barry and Conner before addressing them, “Boys.”  

Everyone stops and looks up from their breakfast.  Realizing that Bruce is looking at him, Barry grins nervously, “Yeah, Bruce?”

Not stopping his scrutiny, Bruce asks, “Will you two be continuing to join us for breakfast for the foreseeable future?”

Conner looks confused as he answers, though his answer sounds more like a question, “Yes?”

Bruce hums and takes a sip of coffee.  But not letting the issue go, he asks, “And your families won’t miss you at breakfast?”

Barry’s smile gets a little bigger as he slowly shakes his head, “No?”  At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, he continues like he’s trying to explain something really simply, slowly nodding his head like he’s trying to convince Bruce, “This is just first breakfast.  We will then have second breakfast.”  

Realizing that due to the time difference, both Barry and Conner are two hours ahead of their families, who were most likely still currently asleep.  Accepting the boys' new hobbit lifestyle, Bruce just gives a small nod and goes back to his newspaper.

---

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Bruce had packed up his laptop to work outside.  However, as he stepped under the western gazebo and grazed upon what remains of the rose garden, he sighs and heads inside to find Alfred.

 

“Alfred, what happened to the west garden?”

Not looking up from a sports equipment catalog, Alfred answers, “Miss Diana was showing Miss Harley the fine art of martial combat.”

Frowning, Bruce asks, “Using Harley’s hammer?”

Turning a page, Alfred hums, “That was the weapon of choice.”

Figuring that since Alfred knew of the issue, the matter would be resolved, Bruce turns to leave.  However, he pauses, “And what is the sports magazine for?”

“Harley had also taken an interest in archery, which Master Oliver had offered lessons.”

Realizing that his scenic rose garden was about to become an archery range, Bruce sighs before sitting down to help Alfred put together a shopping order.

---

Finding a spare hour in his schedule, Bruce heads to the outside pool for a few laps.  However, as he takes off his shirt, he hears a small chatter coming from the pool.  As he looks over, he stops, bewildered.

A pair of small black eyes stare right back.

 

In the living room, Bruce crosses his arms as he stares between the two suspects.  He asks accusingly, “Why is there an otter in the swimming pool?”

Lex raises an eyebrow in mock confusion, “Otter?”

Damien gives an innocently curious look as he asks, “What otter, Father?”

Not believing them, Bruce just raises an eyebrow, staring them both down.  Realizing that Bruce isn’t going to budge, Lex and Damien look at each other, having a silent conversation.  Decided, they both look back at Bruce.

Lex says calmly but firmly, “Her name is Lucy.”

Damien follows up just as surely with his arms crossed, “She will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.”  Bruce opens his mouth, but Damien doesn’t miss a beat as he continues, “The other otters don’t like her.”

Bruce snaps his mouth shut with a frown.  Stiffly, feeling like he’s being played, he demands, “Explain.”

Nodding, Damien explains, “She has an anomaly in her DNA, and her scent upsets other otters.  We have confirmed this with Curry himself.  As for now, we will be fostering her until a suitable home is found.”

Bruce can feel his frown deepening.  However, seeing the challenging conviction in both Lex and Damien's eyes, he sighs and uncrosses his arms, “Very well.  Does Alfred know of our guest?”

Damien nods, “Of course.  We would not have dared of adding an animal to the household without Pennyworth's permission.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “And what about mine?”

Lex walks towards Bruce, gently grabbing his arm and squeezing, “Unfortunately, we know who really runs this house.”

---

Bruce is in the Watchtower, calibrating the new backup set of gravity stabilizers when he hears an engine start up in the hanger.  With a frown, he heads over.  He enters the hanger and finds Hal and Steph in the cockpit of the League’s new prototype jet.  As he walks down the catwalk to look down at them, over the hum of the engine he hears the two bickering over what button does what, clearly having issues reading the blueprints that are spread over Steph’s lap.

Loud enough to be heard over both the engine and the talking, Bruce orders, “Get out.”

They both look up at him, Cheshire smiles on their faces.  Hal says cheerfully, “Hey Bats!  We were taking her for a spin!”

Crossing his arms, Bruce frowns, “I haven’t approved her for flight.”

Steph holds up the blueprints, “But you marked her finished.  So, we should be good to go, right?”

Bruce refrains from glaring, “No. She still needs to be tested-”

Hal interrupts, “Testing, exactly!  That’s what this is, we are testing her for you!  And as a professional test pilot, who better would you have do it?”  Seeing Bruce isn’t going to budge, Hal raises his hand, “And, see, we are properly equipped.” Using his hand, two green helmets materialize over their heads, though they don’t cover the bright, excited smiles underneath.

That does little to convince Bruce.  Yes, the prototype was completely functional.  Yes, his preliminary tests came back perfect.  Yes, technically, the next step of tests was only to satisfy his paranoia thoroughness.  But letting his kid go on the first test run of a prototype jet into outer space?  

Bruce’s thoughts are interrupted by Hal softly asking, “Come on, Bruce.  Don’t you trust me?”

And it might be Bruce’s lack of sleep, but dammit, if there was going to be one person in the world that would be able to keep his kid safe in space; that had the power to do so, it was Hal Jordan.

With a sigh, Bruce motions them out, “I want full visual and audio recordings.  I will be monitoring the feedback.  And Hal?”

When Hal looks at him curious, Bruce points into the cockpit, “Do not touch the orange buttons.  Steph, watch him.”

---

However, as Bruce spends the afternoon monitoring Hal and Steph’s joyride, a thought gets into his brain.  One he can’t let settle.  One that he needs to correct as soon as possible.  

---

Bruce is under the jet tightening the bolts on the modified chassis when he hears the hanger door open.  Two sets of footsteps enter but they stop at the door.  From this distance, he barely hears Clark says, “He’s been in here for the last 20 hours.  I don’t even know what he’s doing.  He tried to tell me, but half of it is scientific mumble.”

Lex’s hum carries through the hanger, followed by a curious, “And what do you expect me to do?”

Clark’s voice is equal parts confused and frustrated, “Well, you are his husband.  Get him to go home.”  Clark's voice turns concerned when he admits, “Bruce’s been in the Watchtower for the last 48 hours, working on the generators, then the stabilizers, and now whatever this new project is.  He needs to rest.”

Lex hums again, and then one set of footsteps start to walk towards the jet, while the other set leaves the hanger.  When the footsteps near him, from the peripheral vision Bruce can see Lex squat down next to him.  Yet, he doesn’t say anything.  He just waits for Bruce to finish his work.  

With the last bolt tightened, Bruce rolls out from under the jet and grumbles at Lex, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Lex just smiles, “He is just concerned.”  Leaning forward, Lex gently cups Bruce’s cheek as he says softly, “Though, you do look tired.”  Seeing Bruce raise an eyebrow, Lex cuts to the core of the issue as he says candidly, “Steph going space flying really got to you, didn’t it?”

Bruce huffs, then refutes, “The ships’ safety measures need to be updated more consistently.  I need to be more vigilant.”  

Lex hums as he sits back, then he holds out his hand, “I believe your monthly reviews were adequate, but if you feel you aren’t thorough enough, may I offer my services?”

With a small amount of consideration, Bruce sighs and hands the wrench over.

“I will be monitoring your work.”

---

With most of the clan out, Bruce is having a light lunch with just Mercy when he sees movement out the window.  Peering out and seeing a woman crouching in one of the bushes, he frowns, “Is that Angela?”

Without looking up from her book, she answers, “Yep.”

Bruce frowns, “And she is acting like a crazed paparazzi because….?”

Mercy looks up, “Her and Tim are testing out some new cameras for Picture Percent.  They are having a ‘shoot off’, seeing how many pictures they can get of each other without the other’s knowledge.”

Bruce smirks, “Fool’s errand.  And I am assuming the poor girl thought she’d win a bet?”

Mercy grins, “Yep.  Tim’s been following her the last hour and she hasn’t noticed yet.  He’s currently in the tree right above her.”

Surprised, Bruce looks back outside and only with the knowledge is he able to spot Tim hiding in the shade of the tree branches.  With a chuckle, he asks, “Do we need to get her help with her gambling problem?”

Back to reading her book, Mercy smirks, “Not yet, I have got a couple bets I still need to win.”

Looking over at Mercy with a raised eyebrow, “Do I want to know which ones?”

Mercy looks up and says slowly and firmly, “No, you don’t.”

---

Bruce is walking to the Batcave when he sees Harley and Jason coming down the hall towards him.  Once in hearing range, Harley asks loudly, “Hey Brucie!  You got any fireworks stashed away?”

With a sigh, Bruce crosses his arms and asks fondly, “Do I want to know?”

Harley shakes her head rapidly, but still says joyously, “Jay Jay here has been looking a little moppsy, and I though we could celebrate a Fuck’em day!”

Confused, Bruce looks over to Jason to clarify.  However, Jason says nothing, his face blank of emotion.  Reviewing the last week’s interactions with Jason, Bruce can’t recall Jason exhibiting any low emotions.  That, and with how untelling Jason is being right now, Bruce considers maybe it isn’t Jason that’s been a little ‘moppsy’.  Turning back to Harley, Bruce asks, “And what is a ‘Fuck’em’ day?”

Harley chirps up, “Fuck’em days aren’t particular days, just particular feelings!  And when them feelin’s get bad, you say Fuck’em, and you go blow shit up instead!  And who don’t like blowing things up?” 

She stops, and for a second her face falls, a bitterly sady look upon her face.  However, just as quickly as it came, it left.  It is replaced with a too bright smile as she holds her hand out in a grabby motion, “So, you got the goods I’m lookin’ for?”

Seeing Harley trying to be happy on a bad day, Bruce can’t stop himself.  He pulls her into a comforting hug.  She goes stiff, clearly unsure of what to do.  As he hugs her, he locks eyes with Jason.  And together they nod to each other.  The nod of two people looking out for someone they love.

When Bruce let’s go of Harley, he kindly lies, “Thank you, Harley, for looking after Jay Jay.”  

She smiles, but there is a wetness to her eyes, “‘You got it, big guy!  Ain’t no hardship when I get to do what I love!”  Feeling like she overshared, she flounders her hands as she clarifies, “Blowin’ things up!”

Bruce smiles kindly as he motions her to follow him, “Cause who doesn’t like blowing things up.”

---

Bruce walks into Lex's office to find Lex laughing at Clark; a full belly laughter.  Clark is looking at Lex like he’s lost his mind, but is unsure how to help him.  Seeing Bruce, Clark looks over him with concern; his eyes flickering to Lex and back to Bruce, like he’s making sure he isn’t the only one seeing this weird phenomenon.  

When Lex takes a second to breath, he sees Bruce and tries to stifle the rest of his laughter.  Clutching his side, he motions to Bruce, his voice mirthful, “Bruce.  Clark.. Clark thinks Jennifer is flirting with him.”

At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, Clark holds up his hands, “No, what I said was I think she is trying to threaten me-.”

Lex interrupts with a chuckle, “Or, and I quote, ‘she is trying to flirt with me.’”

Clark huffs, “Which I followed with a, ‘seems weird, cause all she’s been is tenaciously intimidating.’”

Curious, Bruce asks, “What interactions have you had with Rivers?”

Clark looks a little unsettled as he says, “Weekly!  Weekly, if I write an article that is even parallel to Lex or his corporation, she shows up at the Daily Planet and grills me on it.  She’ll sit on my desk, eats half of my lunch, and all the while she ridicules every piece of the article.  Truthfully, she’s been intimidating and terrifying, and I had come here, in hopes of getting Lex to tell her to stop whatever she’s doing.”

Bruce has to stifle his own smile as he says kindly, “Clark.  It may not look it, but I believe you are now friends with Jennifer Rivers.”

Clark face twists with confusion as he tilts his head, “Friends?”

Nodding, Bruce states, “Clark.  Rivers is the lawyer for one of the most controversial men in the world.  And like that man, she has a hard time making friends.”  Ignoring Lex’s raised eyebrow, Bruce continues, “Rivers loves to argue.  For her, it’s fun.  Debates and arguments is how she connects and learns from people.  And since you are a smart, intellectual person with controversial opinions, you are ideal friend material.”

Walking up to him, Bruce gently claps Clark on the shoulder, “So, against your will, you are now friends.”

Still looking confused, Clark clarifies, “So.. She’s not trying to threaten me?  Or flirt with me?”

Lex chuckles, “Indeed not.  She’s married, has a kid, and you are not her type.”  

Clark nods slowly, “So, if I want her to stop interrupting my lunch, I need to-”

Bruce says, “Tell her firmly to stop.”

Where, at the same time, Lex says, “Be more boring.”

But Clark says over the both of them, with firm conviction.

“Introduce her to Lois.”

---

Bruce is working on the new programming for the Watchtower command center when he hears a soft knock on his office door.  Looking up, he sees Conner standing there, looking nervous.  Motioning Conner in, Bruce asks with concern, “Conner, is there an issue?”

Conner doesn’t enter, staying in the doorway with the door only slightly ajar.  He frowns and says softly, “Um..  Bruce.  I think you might have a bug problem?”

Like Conner had just announced an alien invasion, Bruce’s face goes blank with bitter dread, “Did you tell Alfred?”

Conner shakes his head, his voice embarrassingly small, “No.  I thought you would like to see first.”  Conner then opens the door completely, and a huge bug with shiny, sparkly wings jumps into the room.  

“I’m the bug!”, squeals Lian, shaking back and forth so her brightly colored costume wings wiggle in the air.

Unable to stop the laugh of relief, Bruce stands up and walks over to her.  With a smile, he bends down, “And now you are a bug that can fly!”  He bends down and scoops her up and carries her through the air.  Giggling in delight, she holds out her arms.  

After two laps, Bruce brings her down to his hip and asks both her and Conner, “What are you two up to today?”

Lian babbles, “Conner is babysitting me, and we were going to do science with Mister Luthor, and then have lunch, and then a movie!”  She grins at him, “Do you want to join us?”

Bruce takes a second to look at his computer before grinning down at Lian, “That sounds like a perfect day that I would hate to miss.”

---

After a late night patrolling, when Bruce gets to bed he is disappointed when he finds the bed empty.  Searching the house, Bruce finds Lex asleep on the couch, cuddled up with Hal.  Hal is awake, watching the tv on mute with subtitles.  Bruce quietly walks into the room and softly asks, “What are you doing, Hal?”

When Hal looks up, Bruce can see the exhaustion on his face and the bags under his eyes.  However, Hal’s voice is forcefully chipper as he whispers, “Cuddling with my future husband, that’s what I’m doing.”  He then sighs as he looks back at the tv, “Watch this shit show and not sleeping, that’s what I’m doing.”

Bruce walks over to the couch, sitting on the other side of Hal.  Without permission, Hal flops over, cuddling into Bruce’s side.  Once comfortable, he confesses quietly, “Had a nightmare.  Those ‘earth-shattering, fuck up the rest of your week’ nightmares.  Came over here to see if any of you night owls were wake.  Of course, forgot you bats go out at night, but Lex was willing to sacrifice his night to watch,” he motions to the tv, “this crap.”

Knowing the kind of nightmares that can haunt your days, Bruce just pulls Hal in closer and nods to the tv, “What’s the show about?”

Hal huffs, but his voice gets a little excited as he explains, “So, our main man Garry; His dad put a hit out on his own wife.  They mobsters, so that’s apparently normal.  But Gar likes his third Ma, so he’s working with an outsider to save her.  Thing is, the dude that is helping Gar, he’s like this crazy smart, ‘James Moriarty’ motherfucker that’s slowly spiraling in his own psychosis.  Oh, and they end up trying to stop a drug war, but that didn’t-”

Bruce sits back and gets comfortable as Hal talks mindlessly, nightmares temporarily forgotten.

---

Bruce is walking by one of the offices when he stops and steps back to look inside.  One of the walls is completely covered in ocean maps, and Damien is pointing and marking the maps, while passionately talking to Aquaman, who seems a little intimidated by the young man’s passion.

Walking up to stand by Arthur, Bruce listens as Damien rants about… the discovery of a new whale species.  When Damien turns his back to write something on the wall, Arthur leans in close to Bruce, “Dude, your kid watches way too much Shark Week.”

In kind, Bruce leans in and whispers back, “We all do.”

Arthur hums, but counters, “Yet he’s the only one with the ‘murder’ wall.”

Having heard them, Damien tuts, “It is not a murder wall.  It is the expected altered course of whales in the next ten years to compensate for climate control.  You have been summoned here, for if we can adjust their course of expectation, we can show them where to avoid whalers in the coming years.”

Arthur looks him over, then chuckles, “You could have just told me that, but I like your passion kid.  Alright, let’s see what you got.”

---

While Bruce is good at ignoring distractions, when he smells raw dough and burnt bread, he finds himself in the kitchen.  Though it looks more like a warzone.  It looks like something had exploded, leaving dripping remnants of dough clinging to all surfaces, including the ceiling.  And at the epicenter is Conner, Dick and Tim, all covered in flour.  

When Conner sees Bruce, he smiles sheepishly, “I thought I could show them how to make tortillas.  I mean, they are easy to make.  How can you..”  As he looks around the destroyed kitchen, his face grows sad, “mess up tortillas.”

Wanting to comfort Conner but not willing to enter the mess, Bruce says sagely, “It’s not your fault.  These two have been known to burn water.”

Dick opens his mouth to refute, but pauses then says slowly, “Fair.  That's fair.”

Conner looks at the mess around him then asks, “When is Alfred supposed to be home?”

Dick and Tim both curse in unison as they make a dash for the cleaning supplies.

---

Christmas, the holiday of friends and family; a day of love and good cheer.  This year, Bruce had invited the Justice League, his friends to the Manor.  And they all came.  With so many people in the Manor, each room seemed filled with joy and laughter.  Games being played, movies being watched, and food being cooked.  Everyone came together to spend the holiday with the ones they love.

And just like last year, this Christmas went off without a hitch.

Or so Bruce thought.  For as he is walking to the kitchen for an eggnog refill, he hears something he has never heard within the walls of the Manor.  

Lex Luthor is yelling.  Loudly.  Aggressively.  Angrily.  

Walking quickly towards the noise, he hears Lex scream, “What are you doing?!”

He then hears Dinah, calm, rational Dinah belt out, “You have got to be kidding me!  Are you even thinking?!”

If Bruce isn’t already concerned, he then hears Martha.  Sweet, kind-hearted Martha Kent yell in kind, “Don’t!  Don’t you dare!”

Almost sprinting, Bruce comes to a stop outside the family room, just in time to see all three people jump up from the couch in unison, screaming, “Run!  Run!”

Almost in a daze, Bruce watches the group cheer at the tv as the player sprinting down the field with a football in hand.  So confused by this weird phenomenon, Bruce barely notices Clark walking towards him.  With a hand on Bruce’s chest, Clark steers him out of the room.  When Bruce looks at him confused, Clark just shakes his head, “You can’t rationalize this one, Bruce.  They are football fans.  Just, let this one go.”

Accepting Clark’s advice, the two wander into the game room.  They find Oliver and Hal playing a game of monopoly, a fierce look of concentration on both of their faces.  Clark chuckles, “Must be a serious game.”

Hal doesn’t take his eyes off the board as he answers, putting a hotel down on Park Place, “It is.  Winner gets to officiate.”

Both Bruce and Clark exchange a look, “Officiate?”

Oliver hums, “Bruce and Lex’s second wedding.  Though, they are already married, so it’s technically just renewing vows.  But, I’m officiating.  I already have the speech planned.”

Clark looks at Bruce in surprise, “You are renewing your vows?”

Before Bruce can answer, Oliver pulls a card and says, “That’s what this was about.  All of this was about.  Getting the Justice League together for a real wedding.”  He then glares at Hal, “And I had called dibs on officiating the real wedding.  Not fake Batman, and definitely not Hal Jordan.  The outcome of this game does not change that.”

Hal smirks at Oliver, “You are just upset cause you know you are going to lose.”

Oliver counters, “I’m not going to lose.  I’m a billionaire.  Guaranteed to be good at Monopoly.”

Scoffing, Hal picks up the dice to roll, “Monopoly is all about luck; the roll of the die.  You are going to lose cause you are not as lucky as I!”  However, as his dice land, Hal wails, “Go to jail!  No!!!”

“Bruce. Clark.”

Looking away from the game, they find Diana and Cassandra standing in the doorway.  Diana beckoning them, “Alfred has set up the ballroom.  Come dance with us.”

Clark blushes as he raises his hands in defense, “Oh, I can’t dance.”

However, down the hall, Lois yells, “Smallville, if you don’t come dance with your wife right now, I’m going to marry Bruce once Lex leaves him for Hal!”

Clark sighs defeated and heads to the door.  Bruce looks over to Hal, who’s wiggling his eyebrows, “See, everyone is on Team Hallex!”

Bruce raises and eyebrow and says boredly, “Oliver is officiating us.”

Hal boos, “What, no!  He’s going to do a bad job!  I’ll be so much better!”

Bruce smirks, “By making passes at my husband?”

Hal scoffs and places his hand over his chest in offense, “I would never !”

Their debate is interrupted by a soft, “Dad?”

Turning back to the door, Bruce sees Cass smiling with her hand out, “Dance please?”

And how could Bruce say no on Christmas?

---

Bruce is tying his tie when Lex enters the bedroom and shuts the door, openly sighing, “I’ve changed my mind.  We shouldn’t have invited your friends to our wedding.”

Looking at Lex through the mirror, he smirks, “ My friends?  I thought they were our friends now.”

Lex walks up to him and turning Bruce around, takes over tying the knot, “They are neither of our friends, after this.”

Watching Lex concentrate on the tie, Bruce asks warmly, “And what have our friends done?”

Sighing, Lex laments, “Richard and Jason are on weapon duty, and they have already collected a small armory. Arthur and Damien have released Lucy, who is eating all of my lilies.   Lucy, who Pamela and Harley have fallen in love with.  To the point that there might be a custody battle over Lucy after all this is over.”

Tie complete, Lex helps Bruce into his jacket, buttoning up the front as he continues, “Clark is crying.  Though I’m not sure if he’s being emotionally happy, or if Lois and Jennifer have gained up on him and said something horribly true yet unintentionally mean.  I heard Oliver rehearsing his lines, and they sound suspiciously like our original officiator’s lines.  Diana and Mercy are having an arm wrestling match; a little too close to the cake, in my opinion.”

Buttoning up Bruce’s cufflinks, he finishes with a huff, “Steph and Hal are shaking the wedding gifts, trying to guest their contents.  And Angela and Timothy are being so stealthy, I am not even sure if they are actually here taking pictures.  Alfred and Dinah are the only sane people we have invited.  They are trying to keep everyone in line, but failing miserably.”

Smiling at Lex, Bruce asks, “Cass and Babs?”    

A soft smile graces Lex’s face as he kindly, “They are dancing pirouettes down the aisle for no other reason then they can.”

Finally dressed, Bruce loops his arms around Lex and pulls him close.  As he rests his forehead against Lex’s, he says, “If they are too much trouble, we can just elope again.”

Lex laughs before giving Bruce a serious look, “After all the effort we put into this?  I think not.”  

Bruce smiles, “It is only just that we follow through.”  Closing his eyes and just basking in the moment, Bruce confesses, “I think you are right though.”

Lex huffs, “What in particular?”

Gently rocking them back and forth in silent song, Bruce says, “After this, they won’t be either of our friends.”  He opens his eyes and looks Lex in the eyes with conviction.  “Those present-shaking, arm-wrestling, otter-loving people out there aren’t our friends.”  Leaning in, Bruce kisses Lex;  the same, soft kiss as two years ago during that fateful Christmas gala.  

“They are our family.”

Notes:

And that is all she wrote.

Hey everyone! That's it! That's all of Friends, Definitions May Vary!

I am so happy to have been able to finish this piece of work. To bring you my love and ideas, my happiness and joy! I hope that this piece will be something that you can come back to when you need a little bit of love and good cheer in your life! May it be something that makes you smile when you are down. And when you are happy, I hope it will just make you happier! :)

It has been a pleasure to write for all of you! From your comments to your support, you really made this story happen just as much as I did. Please leave your own love in the comments, and share this with your friends!

And if you are curious on what Slade will work on next? Well, writing this fic has really helped me grow as a writer; learning my writing style, and gaining a writing cadence. So, it's time that I finally start my own original work. Something that's been in the back of my mind for years! If you want a rambling synopsis, I put it in this chapter! The tv show Hal is describing is it!

Once again, thank you so much for reading and making it to the end with me. I hope you all the best in this upcoming year.

With my greatest love to you, my friends,
Slade Hunter