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    Summary

    ‘Ain’t safe for a pretty young thing like you to be alone in this part of town. What brings you out here, anyway? Wouldn’t think a Metropolis hotshot like you would want to sully your soles with Gotham dirt.’

    ‘I’m following up on a lead.’ Clark said without thinking about it. Stupid. If Bruce found out that he was in Gotham, he’d chew him out for days. (Then again, at least Bruce would be acknowledging him.) ‘Look, I’m really grateful, but I should–’

    Clark moved to take a step away but Matches caught him, his fingers curling around Clark’s bicep. Clark was surprised at the strength in those fingers.

    ‘A lead, you say? Maybe I can help you out. I know a thing or two.’ Matches kept his hand on Clark’s arm, his thumb rubbing smooth patterns over Clark’s jacket. ‘Let me buy you a drink, and maybe I’ll share. What do you say?’

    Language:
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