Work Text:
According to Plan
The first time Clark interfered with a kidnapping attempt was as Superman. At least Bruce was in Metropolis at the time, so he didn’t have to reach too far to explain the rescue.
"So it's true, you really are everywhere."
Bruce removed his arm from around Superman’s neck and let himself be placed back on his feet. He hated it when Clark used the bridal carry on him, although it was certainly better than the fireman carry. Bruce didn't have to try hard to imagine the media field day that would ensue from pictures of him over Superman’s shoulder with his ass in the air. Pushing away his thoughts, Bruce batted his eyelashes and licked his lips. "My hero."
Superman flushed from his neck to his ears. "Just doing my job, Mr. Wayne."
"Bruce. I insist. You did save me after all."
"I—Bruce. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Quite, but I wouldn't object if you wanted to check for yourself." While the lecherous grin was fake, his enjoyment at making Clark squirm like a schoolboy was not. He deserved it after depositing Bruce down on the steps of Wayne Financial in front of hundreds of people, all with cell phones out and recording.
***
The second time was as Clark Kent. Because he couldn’t just turn around and walk away. Of course not. He had to cause a scene and call the cops. Clark pointed out Bruce could certainly afford to hire competent security. Security Bruce would only then have to ditch whenever the world needed saving, and just giving them every Tuesday off wasn't enough of a guarantee for Bruce.
"I thought you needed help."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "I'm sorry. Can you say that again, but slower?"
Clark backtracked and held his hands up in peace. "I know you don't need help, Bruce, but out here, you're not you."
"Hnn." He'd pummel Clark later. For the moment, he smoothed his face out and raised a hand in greeting.
Commissioner Gordon, having stepped away to direct an officer, returned with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Now, you were saying, Mr. Kent?"
"I just happened to turn my head while I was walking, and I saw the van and some men leading Mr. Wayne out the exit," Clark explained.
Bruce tapped out a quick message to the head of his PR team, apologizing for the pictures of him and Clark talking to Commissioner Gordon that were no doubt about to hit the web.
"Mr. Wayne?"
"I'm afraid I didn't see anything, Jim. I was blindfolded," he replied with a shrug. "You know they don't like me knowing where we go."
Gordon pinched his nose. "That I do. All right, Bruce, just call me if you think of anything," he said. "Oh, and have your people give the security tapes to Montoya."
"Of course. I know the drill." Bruce gave his best sorry-but-we-both-know-it’s-true-see-you-next-time smile before grabbing Clark and yanking him into the building.
***
The third time Clark was kidnapped right along with him. They were at lunch. Just his luck, it was the same crew as before, and they recognized Clark. Took him along so he couldn't raise the alarm again.
"If you'd stop interfering," Bruce hissed.
"This is not my fault!"
"If you hadn't kicked up a fuss last time, they wouldn't have taken you."
Clark rattled his restraints. "Like they couldn't have just left me tied up back there."
"Yes," Bruce replied. "And gagged."
"Funny." Clark rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat, a look between nervous and sheepish on his face. "Ah, Bruce, the Planet isn't going to pay a ransom…"
"Relax, they'll bundle you up with me. Lucius won't let them keep you." Bruce paused to consider before adding, "I think."
Clark just glared.
***
The fourth time was from Bruce’s office. That was lunch too, but wasn't hard to spin as yet another interview. Clark would have to get over the glances and whispers of being Bruce's “favorite reporter” in the wake of the coverage.
"Bruce! Bruce! Over here!"
"Stay back," Bruce subvocalized to Clark before he turned to the jackals that made up the Gotham press. He took a few deliberate steps towards them, angled to shield Clark, and plastered on his best Brucie face.
"This is the fourth attempt this year!" one reporter shouted.
"Crime must be slow these days if I'm the top story." He tapped a finger against his lips. "I'd like to think the donations from Wayne Enterprises have helped in that regard."
"April O'Neil, Gotham Gazette." She moved her mic forward. "Is it true the Daily Planet's Clark Kent was once again kidnapped with you?"
"It does appear that interviews have become somewhat precarious, yes." Bruce gave a wolfish grin. "Are you volunteering?"
April fluttered her lashes. "Just name the time and place."
"Reach out to my people and we'll see," he promised. "Now, if you'll all excuse me." Bruce swiftly moved away from the throngs and into the waiting car.
Clark offered him a drink and a sheepish smile.
"That's it, we're only eating at home from now on," Bruce said after draining half the water bottle.
"I don't know," Clark ventured. "Dinner should be safe enough."
***
By the fifth time Bruce was ready to pull his hair out. Or get the kryptonite. Probably both. And he didn't care how many times Clark said sorry, nor would he be swayed by puppy dog eyes. Black Mask's men didn't play nice. One wrong word, one stray bullet, and Clark’s cover would be blown. They would play it off, but if the story reached Luthor, it was game over. The gossip rags speculated that “favorite” meant a lot more.
"What was that you said about dinner?" Bruce said with a glare.
"Don't try to pin this on me."
"Well then, Mr. Kent, how do you think we'll explain all this to the press? Because this is the fifth time."
"Technically it's the fourth," Clark corrected. "The first one was Supes."
"You're sleeping on the couch, and if you're lucky, I won't poison you with kryptonite in your sleep."
"Come on, Bruce, don't be like that. How could we know they'd catch you at the boardwalk? That's new, isn't it? It's normally work and fancy events."
"Yes, but you have super hearing and x-ray vision. How the fuck did you miss it?"
Clark rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was distracted…"
"The kids are going to be insufferable."
"Commissioner Gordon!" Clark called out, undoubtedly to give plenty of warning to switch topics.
"Mr. Kent, Mr. Wayne." He looked the pair over and sighed. "No way the press isn't going to catch wind of this. The best I can do is have Montoya drive you out in the detective's car. They won't be able to take pictures through that glass."
"Thank you."
"Mr. Kent—Clark," he said. "I've known Bruce since he was young. He's never seen with someone like he is with you, and certainly never had a dat—reporter kidnapped with him."
"Jim," Bruce warned.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled." He looked Clark up and down. "Just remember, if you hurt him, I am the Commissioner, and I don't care where you live. Clear?"
Clark nodded. "Yes, sir."
Bruce, as touched as he was that Gordon was giving The Shovel Talk on his behalf, barely restrained his laughter that it was directed at Superman.
***
After the sixth time Bruce was so done. Screw their personas keeping a low profile with one another. The only option was to go public with their relationship so they could spoonfeed the press and avoid any digging that might lead to questions they didn’t want asked. Clark could damn well use his powers to keep clear. Bruce’s more courteous kidnappers even worked around his schedule.
"I let myself get kidnapped. What's your excuse?"
"Wait. What?"
"You seriously hadn't figured that out already?"
"...No?" Clark replied, wide-eyed.
"Believe it or not, I do have a plan. So if you would kindly stop fucking it up, that'd be great."
"Sorry." Clark winced. "What plan?"
"I want the hired muscle to see me and how I interact with them. Listen to me babble on about reputable work."
"To try to convince them to give up the life of crime?"
Bruce nodded. "When I offer them a way, yes. It doesn't matter how many times I stop them as Batman, if they have nothing waiting for them, they'll go back to what they know."
"Is it working?"
"Yes. Slowly, but it’s better than it was. Half the crime in Gotham is desperate people. I know that, so I also have to fight it as Bruce Wayne."
"I love you." Clark beamed.
"Hnn."
***
The seventh time, neither of them were kidnapped. Bruce had enough of Black Mask. His thugs always left bruises and, frankly, Bruce was less than thrilled at the idea of his money funding anything Sionis was up to.
"Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Bruce Wayne." The video showed his face, larger than life, right in the middle of the room, and with no way to shut it down. "If you're working for Black Mask, you probably haven't had the best life so far. Maybe your family never had much money, or you never finished high school. Maybe you couldn't get a job that paid well enough, or you ran with the wrong crowd. Working for Black Mask isn't the answer. What kind of future do you have working for him? For example: do you have health insurance?"
Batman stepped out beside the bank of screens, a black silhouette.
"You're going to need health insurance when Batman is done with you. And a lawyer to get you out of jail. Will Black Mask be there for you then? When you need him most? I don't think so."
The men gathered around the room look from the video to Batman and then at each other.
"Many of you are familiar with me from the numerous times you’ve kidnapped me." The recording of Bruce grinned and winked. "I'm asking you to walk away now. Go to the Wayne Adult Education Center, and I guarantee you a job at Wayne Industries. Together we'll get you back on your feet with a job you can be proud of, with an employer that will take care of you personally."
Batman gave a little smirk and stepped closer to Black Mask as he watched the goons abandon the crime boss.
"Where are you going? Batman is right there! Just hit him!" Sionis ordered, throwing his hands out in frustration.
"That's why it pays to have a benefits package," he quipped before punching Black Mask in the face.
***
Bruce looks across the table as Jason—who had roared into the Cave earlier, demanding to know what the fuck had gone down—takes a sip of coffee, and says, "And that brings us to now."
"So, you're telling me that all I needed to do to get Bats involved was to get Mask to kidnap Brucie a few times and 'out' you and Mom to the press?"
"How come I'm always 'mom'?" Clark asks.
"Because no way the old man is the motherly type. He's barely the fatherly type on his good days." Jason flashes a cheeky grin. "Besides, I always remember to get you flowers on Mother's Day."
Clark reaches over and ruffles Jason’s hair fondly.
Bruce rolls his eyes, and decides not to rise to the bait of being called out on his parenting skills. Again. "All Batman did was drop him off at the GCPD."
"Right after Bruce Wayne bribed away all his muscle!" Jason falls back into his chair, shoulders shaking with laughter.
"I think the word you're looking for is lured, not bribed. He didn't actually pay anyone," Clark says.
"Recruited with an amazing benefits package," Bruce corrects with a grin.
"Tell me you're writing an article on this?"
"I can't really, seeing as I was involved, in so much as I was kidnapped by him, but Lois is. Should be on the front page tomorrow."
"That's even better. Sionis will never live it down."
"And with so many of his goons now having respectable jobs, who knows, maybe he'll be in jail longer than overnight this time."