Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Coffee delivery!” Lois announced as she stopped by Clark’s cubicle to drop off coffee.

“Thanks!” Clark said, as he gratefully accepted the drink, ignoring his glasses fogging up from it. As if that would affect his vision…

“Careful, it’s scalding!” Lois began to tell him as he took a large gulp, before she caught herself. Shaking her head, she sighed. “I forgot you’re you. Anyway, big plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” Clark replied as he continued to down his drink while she blew on hers to cool it off.

“You sure about that?”

Clark raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your new additions say otherwise,” Lois commented, glancing past him.

Clark followed her gaze, turning in his chair to do so, and saw the sizeable stack of newspapers sitting on his desk, next to his computer.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, clearing his throat. “It’s nothing. That’s, that’s nothing.”

“Sure it is,” Lois laughed, turning to walk away. “Have fun with your boyfriends tonight.”

“It’s for professional reasons!” Clark called out to her, his face turning slightly red. “I just respect them.”

She laughed again, shaking her head as she turned a corner and left his view.

Sighing, Clark turned again and straightened the newspapers, the Gotham Gazette on top of the pile.

“There’s no harm in reading about people you admire and respect,” he said to himself, returning to his work.
___

Clark repeated his words to himself that night, as he sat at his dining table in his apartment, music playing in the background as he meticulously went through all of the Gotham newspapers, gossip rags, and magazines he had acquired that week. Yet another perk of his job, he hummed to himself.

“I’m not alone in admiring and respecting Bruce Wayne,” he said, placing an article about the wealthy bachelor to his right. “Or Batman,” Clark continued, glancing at the stack of articles about the Caped Crusader to his left. “They’re both nice, smart, altruistic men. Representing what’s good about Gotham. Helping to fight all sorts of what plagues their community, if not the world.”

Nodding to himself, he paused as he picked up the next article, a smiling and sharply dressed Bruce Wayne looking back at him.

“And handsome,” Clark sighed, studying the all too familiar face. “So handsome.” He paused and picked up a picture of Batman, though it was taken from afar. “As are you,” he assured that man. “I care for you both equally,” he stated, more for himself than for them.

Clark put everything down as he stood to get more water for himself, walking around his apartment with his drink.

He stopped to admire the pictures and framed articles that adorned the walls, including following him up the stairs to his bedroom, due to the unique floor plans of his building. Some pictures were of his own family, others of his professional work, and a few sprinkled in showed his Metropolis family. These included the ice skating “date” where he and Lois realized there was no he and Lois in the romantic sense, that he had far different interests. She had been very accepting and understanding, and they remained fast friends.

And then here were the other pictures and articles, results of some of his favorites he had clipped since his adoration (okay, crush) began. Batman standing near the bat signal. Bruce Wayne volunteering at an orphanage. Batman flying by a crime scene. Bruce helping to light Gotham city hall’s Christmas tree.

Clark smiled at that one, but his thoughts wandered to the bookshelves in the living room and in his own room, where scrapbook after scrapbook held the rest of his collection, to which he was adding more that very night.

Returning to the table, he pulled a new newspaper towards him and began to flip through it.

“Bruce and a mystery woman, could it be love?” the gossip column read.

Clark rolled his eyes and scoffed. “She’s blond, and we all know he’s into brunettes,” he said aloud to the author, running a hand through his own dark locks. “Though only women? No one’s sure about that…”

Deciding against that article and picture, he continued perusing the newspaper. Sure, he was a fan (super fan? Was that a thing?), but he had a discerning taste and only wanted worthwhile items about the two men, not just anything in print.

He smiled as he read the next article which just so happened to discuss the upcoming new exhibit at the Gotham Natural History Museum, largely funded by one delicious millionaire….
____

That was Clark’s Friday night, as he hadn’t felt like going out. And admittedly, part of his Saturday as he stayed up quite late for it.

Still, he felt fairly energized Saturday and was up early enough to exercise, cook breakfast, do some light cleaning, and then…feel a bit restless.

So, he decided to engage in one of his favorite hobbies - keeping the world safe. And not just any world, part of his world. Or a guilty pleasure of his, at least.

Donning his familiar red and blue gear, he quickly leapt into the sky from one of his designated safe places in Metropolis and headed towards Gotham, telling himself it was just to do a quick fly over, see if everything was okay, if anyone needed his help.

Yes, it was the Bat’s territory, but either man would help to patrol the other’s city from time to time, so it wasn’t overly unusual, Clark reminded himself as his nagging brain suggested otherwise.

Lois’ words rang in his ears, and he sighed.

“They’re not my boyfriends,” he told himself. “I should be so lucky.”

His thoughts went to his interactions with Batman, how they worked often enough side by side to patrol, fight, generally help. Clark dared to think they were….coworkers? More than that, he dared to hope. Comrades? Associates? Friends?

Friends, now that would be nice. Something more than just teammates. Something that left the door open for more…like, say, dinner one day?

Clark shook his head and sighed. How would he even achieve that? Ask Batman out as Batman, like have a meal as Superman and Batman? Well, they did have water and high caloric protein snacks here and there together, so maybe the idea wasn’t so out of the ordinary.

Should he expose his true identity, and dare to ask the other man to do the same? Go out as Clark and….whoever Batman was?

He shook his head again, that was too risky. Probably…

His smile returned as the city came into view, heading onto his normal route and staying high enough above it so as to not alert or alarm anyone. Especially Batman, he wryly thought. For while he always loved the idea of running into the other man unexpectedly, he didn’t want to set off any cause for concern, nor risk giving him the impression that Superman didn’t think he could handle his own city.

Satisfied by the peace that was still hanging over Gotham this morning, he flew over the outskirts and the various components and areas there.

Such as….Wayne Manor…

To Clark’s delightful surprise, he could observe none other than the estate’s owner himself out in the manicured gardens exercising.

Hovering in the air high enough above it to hopefully not be noticed, red cape fluttering in the air, Clark watched the millionaire finish a run, stretch and then move onto different stances and graceful movements.

Ones that…looked like…forms? Fighting positions? Oh, that was new to Clark, for he didn’t think he had ever read of Bruce Wayne engaging in martial arts. Though there had been a rumor that a younger Bruce had once popped up in a Korean monastery and other places in that region…

Refocusing, Clark continued to watch, something new rising up in his head that he couldn’t quite place.

Maybe it was the fact that Bruce took off his shirt, clearly too hot from exercising to want to be bothered with one more layer. Maybe Clark’s brain was short circuiting since he was trying to commit that picture to memory (since no one else really had those pictures!). Whatever it was, he shrugged before turning and finally peeling himself away, lest he dare get caught by Bats and have to explain to yet another person why he was overly interested in one Mr Wayne.

Later, when he was back home and showered, putting his Superman garments away, he ran a towel through his damp hair as he looked at one of Bruce’s pictures on his wall.

“What about you is bugging me?” Clark asked him, not that the other man revealed anything to him. “Why can’t I put my finger on it?”

Sighing, he rubbed his head with the towel again as he turned to Batman’s picture, for he always alternated whatever he hung up between the two men, so neither became jealous of the other or thought he gave one a better wall space than the other. (Yes, this was important to Clark!)

“You’re the great detective, aren’t you?” Clark asked his caped friend. “I bet that you’d figure this out in a heartbeat.”

He sighed and shrugged again, walking away to gather things for running errands, his mind running over…something, though he wasn’t sure what that was.
____

Clark couldn’t figure it out for several more days, until he and some others at work were watching different news hours from around the region, including (especially) Gotham.

“In today’s latest news,” a sandy haired news anchor read, “Batman yet again saved one of Gotham Bank’s locations from being robbed by Two-Faced’s men. Batman would not give a statement, but Detective Bullock shared some words at the end of the stand off.”

The anchor disappeared from the screen as Harvey Bullock appeared on screen from earlier, the bank and overall crime scene behind him.

“We’re sick of more and more criminals and these petty crimes,” Bullock chided them. “Stay off the streets if you know what’s good for you. You’ve got the GCPD on the case, and Batman too.”

As if on cue, there was a commotion behind Bullock, and the crowd of reporters could be heard gasping off-screen as the cameraman panned to where two criminals had escaped their handcuffs, desperately running away from the very police van they had started to be led to. Batman swooped in and fought the criminals; quick but determined punches were thrown and blocked by the Dark Knight, who quickly subdued the men.

“And that’s how we do it,” Bullock smirked as his fellow policemen took them into custody again, before the clip ended and the news anchor returned to the screen.

They must have reported more about the story, but Clark’s brain wasn’t processing it. Something was….off? Familiar? Something was begging to make sense in his brain, but what?

“Earth to Clark?” Jimmy said, waving his hand in front of Clark’s face.

“Oh! Uh, what?” Clark asked.

“I said Lois wants to meet us this afternoon to talk about a new assignment,” Jimmy said. “See you at two.”

“Right, two, I’ll be there,” Clark agreed, heading back to his own desk, where he briefly took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Think,” he muttered to himself. “What is it?” he said, encouraging his brain to fire in just such a way….

It did exactly that half an hour before he was due to meet Lois and Jimmy. Apparently his brain needed some fuel courtesy of the deli down the street to trigger itself.

“Batman fights like Bruce Wayne!” Clark’s brain registered. “Or, Bruce Wayne trains like how Batman fights!”

He staggered back to work, mind reeling from it all. Did that mean…surely it didn’t…could it?

“Maybe it’s a common fighting style,” he thought to himself. “Something a lot of people train in? Everyone knows Bats doesn’t have super powers, so he’d have to learn to fight somewhere…”

Lke in a monastery across the world”, his brain posed? “Like a certain young rich kid is rumored to have done?”

Clark sat at his desk, sighing loudly as he put his right elbow on the desk, right hand over his mouth as he thought about it all.

Could they truly be one and the same? They were never spotted together, that was true, but Bruce didn’t exactly schmooze with every soul everywhere, and Batman was…not the most outgoing or social person either.

But, Clark wondered, could that be because as Bruce he was always around people, and so as Batman he sought more privacy?

Well, as private as fighting bad guys could be, Clark mused, his chest puffing up at being on Batman’s short list of people he worked with regularly.

He’d have to do more research, he decided. Nothing crazy, but something…

“Yo Clark,” Jimmy greeted him. “Ready?”

Clark nodded, wondering where the time had gone, as he followed Jimmy to Lois’ office.

“How much do you both love me?” she asked, a wide smile on her face as they sat on the sofa in her office while she stayed behind her desk.

“Trick question?” Jimmy laughed.

“I’ve got you both tickets to a hot story, behind the scenes access to a new museum exhibit. Some big artifact thing, or technology, beats me,” she said, shrugging. “That’s why I’m not going, and you two are. Clark, you’ll write about the exhibit and do a few interviews; Jimmy, get us some good pictures.”

“Always!” Jimmy agreed. “When and where?”

“Tuesday, so….five days,” Lois stated, checking her calendar. “It’s a big PR event so there won’t be a set schedule until that day, you’ll stay the night just in case it runs late. Back Wednesday, I want the story out by Friday morning since the exhibit opens that weekend. Got it?”

“Sure,” Clark said, finally joining the conversation. “Where are we headed?”

“Gotham City,” Lois said, not moving her eyes off Clark and positively smirking. “Gotham Natural History Museum.”

“Oh, I love that place!” Jimmy cheered. He and Lois ran through a few more details before he left, leaving Clark in the office with her.

“Aren’t you just so excited?” Lois purred at him. “Your boyfriends’ territory.”

“They…he…they,” Clark said, correcting himself. “Never mind,” he sighed. His heart had truthfully dropped at finding out he’d have to go to Gotham. For the first time he found he wasn’t excited about a trip there, as he had wanted to sort out his thoughts more before setting foot on the Bat’s territory.

“You’ll be on a group tour with their curator, then interview her separately, as well as the museum director,” Lois told him. “And I also snagged you an interview with the donor who made the exhibit possible.”

“And who’s that?” Clark asked, pen poised above his notebook.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Clark coughed once. “Excuse me? What?” He cursed himself for not having recalled the article he read last Friday sooner…

“I know!” Lois laughed, throwing her hands up. “I had to pull a string or two, he’s only giving a few interviews. Just trying to make your dream come true!”

Clark sighed. “Lois, I –”

“Don’t know how to thank me,” she supplied, nodding. “Just don’t waste this opportunity, and be sure to give me all the juicy details.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t seriously think that I’ll ask him out during an interview?”

“Of course not,” she agreed, and he exhaled. “After, naturally. You are a professional, after all. Now shoo, go do some research from an email I forwarded you so you’re prepared for Mr Gotham.”

“He was only that in a calendar one year,” Clark muttered, standing to leave.

“Good luck!” Lois called out, and he sighed again as he waved, leaving her office feeling more confused than he had going in.
____

Five days. He had five days to prepare for the interviews and overall article, and to sort out his thoughts.

“Surely you’re not the same person,” Clark said to two of the pictures on his walls, crossing his arms. “I’d know that by now.”

“Would you?” Bruce in a black suit seemed to say.

“How?” Batman on a magazine cover gruffly agreed. “You’ve only talked to me, not him.”

“Right?” another Bruce curiously chimed in. “Have we ever even met?”

“Only once,” Clark reminded them. “Perry was talking to you at a charity event and introduced me and Lois to you, we stood there while you and he talked a bit more,” he said, recalling a moment he was eternally grateful to the newspaper’s editor for. “And I saw you at events two more times, just not on that level.”

“Wow, we’re practically best friends,” another Bruce teased, laughing. Well, he was laughing in the picture anyway, he just happened to be laughing now as well…

“I didn’t say that,” Clark sighed. “Anyway you’re both avoiding the question. Are you the same?” he repeated, scratching his chin as he stopped in front of two of his favorite pictures, ones that held high places of honor in his bedroom.

He studied them, wondering about similarities. Their faces…Clark wasn’t sure if they were the same. It was hard to tell what might be similar between the two men since Bruce actually posed for pictures, whereas Batman was…captured for them., for the same reason. Though their chins looked kind of alike? There was no identifying mark, no freckles, beauty spots, nothing. Though if there were, he supposed, Batman would hide it.

Then there were their bodies, and Clark frowned at that aspect. While part of him had always recognized he clearly had a certain type due to both men’s frames, he couldn’t help but think that maybe it was because the bodies were one and the same? Both of the same height and build, but not such an uncommon one that they totally stood out in a crowd. And unfortunately while he had had the pleasure of seeing the Bat’s rear in his uniform multiple times, the same couldn’t be said as much for Bruce Wayne.

“Yet!” his brain countered, hopeful.

Clark sighed as he flopped onto his bed. “Does his body look that different between his designer suits and his Bat suit? Then again, I put on glasses and get away with being Clark and not Superman with just that, so who knows?”
____

All too soon, Jimmy and Clark were on the train to Gotham, leaving their bags at their hotel and heading to the museum as they had arrived in the city early.

Clark exhaled a sigh of relief when he received the itineraries for the Daily Planet, as his interview with Bruce Wayne would be the last item on his agenda.

Still, it did little to settle him and he briefly excused himself to run to the restroom to give himself a pep talk.

“You don’t know it’s him, and you’re not here for that,” he said to himself. “Or to ask him out, though maybe…if it seems right…”

He shook his head and patted his chest, finding comfort in the feeling of his caped suit underneath his suit, as it always was.

Clark assumed he wouldn’t need it, but found it to be a helpful grounding tool, and nodded at himself as he returned to join Jimmy and others grabbing one final cup of coffee before the group tours began.

As they walked around on their tour, Clark made a note to himself to actually visit the museum properly one day, kicking himself for only focusing on Batman, Bruce Wayne, and crime fighting when he was here, other than for work.

Really, he sighed inwardly, how many of the newspapers and magazines had he read about the city? He had so much knowledge of good places to visit, where to go for good food, etc, that he should really put it to use one day. Actually visit Gotham for fun and be a tourist, not flying around on patrol or doing interviews.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn away from those thoughts as something in him tingled. Not a good tingle, like seeing a new picture of Bruce or Bats, but a different one, though equally familiar...

The additional slight headache finalized it for him - there was kryptonite. Here. In the museum.
He would laugh if it wasn’t real!

He paused, frowning. What to do about it? Look for it, and then what - explain it to a curator without giving up his identity? Ignore it and hope that nothing happens? If he went with that option, he’d just have to be sure to stay away from wherever it was. It definitely wasn’t in this new exhibit, so that should be easy, Clark told himself.

Of course, he could always drop a quiet word about it to Batman, but would the caped crusader be angry that he didn’t have any other information to share? Clark frowned at that - didn’t the Justice League have something to test for kryptonite? Sure, it would be putting more work on others, but it’s not like he could really just waltz around until he found it and fainted.

Sighing, Clark chose for now to go with option two and ignore it, and continued with the day’s events, making notes of the exhibit as Jimmy snapped pictures and focused on the interview with the curator later on.

As the interview with Bruce Wayne drew near, Clark wasn’t sure if the nerves and stress fatigue he felt were due to meeting the man of the hour, or from the continued low-level exposure to kryptonite. Regardless, his guilty conscience had eaten away at him and he made a note to wander around after and find where it was coming from, even if he had to do so later when the museum was closed. He’d figure out later who to tell, be it a curator or Batman.

“Clark, you ready?” Jimmy asked. “We’re up next with Mr Wayne.”

Nodding, Clark stood and straightened his suit as they moved to wait outside the exhibit room the interviews were being conducted in.

“He’s even more handsome than his pictures!” two women gushed as they walked out of their interview, and Clark swallowed nervously as he turned his audio recorder on.

“Right this way,” a museum staff member said, ushering them over to where the philanthropist was seated.

Clark paused, stunned by how dapper but approachable the man was. Sure, the suit was probably worth more than he made in a year, but the casual way Bruce wore it just made him look…nice? Casual? No, Clark thought, more than that. But before he could find a more appropriate word Jimmy nudged him forward, moving into place as Clark greeted the other man.

“Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, thank you for your time Mr Wayne,” he said, holding out a hand.

Bruce smiled (smiled!) and returned the handshake warmly. “Please, call me Bruce. And I’m glad we could arrange this, I always pick up your paper when I’m in Metropolis.”

Pushing down his fanboy excitement, Clark’s smile widened. “I’m glad to hear it! This is a wonderful exhibit,” he began, asking Bruce about his interest in it, what it was like to help curate it, and any future plans for additional exhibits at this or other museums. Jimmy snapped a few pictures before moving off to the side until the interview was over, when he would take one of the two men together.

Clark was grateful he was recording the interview as his mind couldn’t help but wander. The pull from the kryptonite growing slightly more present, but also…no, he inwardly gasped as his hearing picked up on new sounds! It couldn’t be! People were robbing the museum, one floor down and several rooms over. Was it related to the kryptonite growing stronger? Did others know it was here and they were trying to steal it? And today, of all days, when he was here and sharing the same air as Bruce Wayne?!

Clark nodded blankly as the Gothamite spoke, his stomach dropping at this turn of events. On the one hand, he had the opportunity of a lifetime right now in talking to his crush. But on the other, duty called and he couldn’t really let the men downstairs get away. No alarm had been raised, which made Clark extra uneasy. Who knew what they were doing or taking, and what might happen if others tried to stop them? Anyone who dared to do this while the museum was open (even as late in the day as it was) were sure to be brazen and not easily deterred.

Should he try to tell someone that he heard a commotion somewhere? No, he told himself that there was no time to get backup. He was Superman, after all, he could stop some bank robbers himself!

He sighed. Duty would prevail, he thought, and smiled weakly as he turned off the recorder, pocketing it. Making sure he had the interview for his article would be the least he could do as he wrecked the rest of it…

“I’m sorry, Mr Wayne,” he said, forgetting to use his first name. “But I have to end the interview, I need to leave.”

“What?” Bruce asked, clearly surprised.

“I…have to check on my cat,” he said, standing. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, Clark turned and nearly ran out of the room, leaving Jimmy and the others watching in shock.

“Clark?” Jimmy called out. “Where are you going?”

“Emergency!” Clark called over his shoulder as he quickly walked to the stairwell, ignoring looks from others he passed.

Aware there were cameras everywhere, he fought the urge to jump straight down and took the steps three at a time down the two flights til the next floor, where he continued walking at a fast pace, following his hearing. And the kryptonite, he realized. He grew more worried that it was what the robbers were after, and a small voice in him commented on how his hearing was growing harder to use, and his legs were feeling heavier and heavier…curse his arrogance for thinking he could rush ahead and do this himself!

But he had no time to think about it anymore as he reached the closed ornate doors leading into an exhibit room, knowing that was his target. Pushing it, the doors didn’t give, and he frowned as he realized the intruders had locked it. There was no time to change out of his business suit, he had to move, and now!

He’d deal with the cameras later, he told himself, before taking a deep breath, using his dwindling energy to push the doors open…where he was met with cries of surprise from the robbers, and his energy was further drained from the kryptonite.

Yep, definitely the right room, he sighed as he moved in to fight the men. Two rushed him and he easily fought them, all things considered, but the next two were a handful as the kryptonite continued to work against him.

He could just barely see three other men at the back of the room putting objects from glass exhibit cases into large black cases as Clark continued to fight, trying to be careful to not push anyone into other exhibits in the room.

Two more rushed him as the corners of his vision turned dark, his head throbbing in pain and his legs feeling like they were about to give out at any minute. He disarmed their knives quickly, throwing them away before fighting the men hand to hand, all the while looking for an emergency button to press. This was no longer the time to be stubborn, he needed help!

While they fought, they danced around the exhibits, most of which were in glass cases but likely none protective enough to save the artifacts should one of them fall on it.

“What’s this guy doing here? Take care of him already!” someone yelled.

“Stop this clown!” another added.

One of Clark’s current assailants grabbed one of the items not covered, a vase, and threw it at him.

Clark cursed and moved, slower than he usually would, barely grabbing it and cuddling it to his chest. He held it with one hand like a football while he punched another attacker, pausing to gently place the vase on the ground behind another exhibit’s pedestal when he was kicked in the back.

Clark cursed again as he fell forward, the attacker jumping on his back. It felt like Clark was moving through jelly as he reached up and pulled the man over his head, knocking him out as soon as his back hit the ground. Clark paused and moved the vase a few more inches to extra safety before jumping back up to continue the fight.

But his time was running out! Just as he staggered to the final men, two of whom were still packing and one who was pulling out a gun…

Suddenly, something flew by his shoulder and knocked the gun out of the man’s hand, and as Clark sank to his knees, unable to do anything more as he slumped down, someone rushed past to fight the men.

Someone in a dark business suit, who fought extremely well, and seemed to be subduing the men easily.

And as Clark’s eyes closed, he swore he saw the face of none other than Bruce Wayne turning back to him.

Clark laughed as his consciousness left him, what a wild thought to have as he passed out…
____

“Wha–?” Clark groggily asked as he heard a sound.

“Shh,” a man’s voice said. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“What’s happening?” Clark slurred, as a dim light turned on. “Batman?”

“You…passed out. I helped to get you here,” the masked vigilante told him.

“Hi Batman,” Clark said with a smile, blinking lazily. “It’s me! Superman!” He frowned as he looked down at his body, realizing he wasn’t wearing his familiar suit. Or his business suit. Or…anything on his upper body?

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, pawing at his bare chest. “Where’s the S? It should be here!”

“You needed to change,” Batman told him, holding out a pajama top. “Put this on.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Oh, I’m kind of naked and you’re here, this is one of my dreams,” Clark sighed happily before frowning. “These are good dreams, but I’m not usually so tired in them. I feel like I just got in a big fight!”

“Is that so?”

“This isn’t how this usually goes,” Clark continued. “We’re either both in our work gear, or we’re both in casual clothes, not one or the other.” He frowned. “What gives? This is weird!”

“Uh, sure,” Batman said, frowning.

“Ohh,” Clark said, drawing the word out as he changed. “You’re embarrassed ‘cause I’m half naked. I’m embarrassed too, but I can’t really control my dreams like that, you know?”

“We’re not…it’s not…” Batman began, stuttering, to Clark’s surprise.

Clark’s eyes widened as he pulled the pajama top over his head. “Hey, you know what happened to me yesterday? There were robbers! At the museum! And Bruce Wayne was there!” He peered at the other man. “Are you Bruce Wayne? You are, aren’t you?”

Batman crossed his arms. “What makes you think that?”

“I just do,” Clark sighed, his head feeling heavy. “I have a feeling but I can’t think about it right now. And I can’t remember why I feel so bad in this dream. Sure, I got in a big fight yesterday, but that usually doesn’t make me feel like this in my dreams.” He tried to shake his head but only succeeded a little. “But you know, you’re both really good looking,” he said with a smile. “You and him. I’d be happy to go out with either of you. I want to, but I don’t know how to ask, you know?” he continued, frowning.

Before anyone could say anything more, there was a soft knock and a voice called out.

“Everything okay?”

“We’re fine,” Batman gruffly replied before looking at Clark again. “Go to sleep, you’re safe here,” he repeated.

“But where is here?” Clark asked, realizing he was in a bed. “I’ve never dreamed of this place before..”

“Just sleep,” Batman said, before turning the light out. “And…thanks. For today. All of it.”

“What?” Clark asked, but there was silence.

Shrugging, he pulled a blanket over himself and rolled over, closing his eyes at it all.

___

Clark groaned as he opened his eyes, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings. He realized a moment later that he was in…a hospital room?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked around as early morning light streamed in from the corners of the shades covering his window, just as the door to the room opened.

“Good morning!” a young male in black scrubs greeted him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m…not sure,” Clark admitted. “Tired, really tired,” he said, for he was still drained from the kryptonite.

“I’m sure,” the man said, moving near him and picking something up. “Here’s your glasses, so you can see me!” he said cheerfully. Clark put them on, not wanting to give up his disguise. “I’m Steve, your overnight nurse. Tina will be in soon for the next shift to work with you. Let’s get your vitals, okay?”

Clark nodded and Steve checked his pulse, oxygen, and blood pressure, before making notes of the numbers. “I see that you’re flagged for nothing intravenous,” Steve read aloud, puzzled by it. “Not sure I’ve seen that in a chart before, but who am I to argue with the doc? You need a lot of fluids, so we’ll keep you stocked with water and electrolyte drinks in the meantime,” he said, filling a glass of water for Clark, who gratefully accepted it.

“Where am I?” Clark asked as he drank, making Steve laugh.

“Gotham General Hospital,” the nurse informed him. “You got here last night.”

“How?”

Steve shrugged. “I wasn’t here yet, but I’m told you collapsed and were brought in.”

Clark nodded before panic seeped into his bones. “And my things?”

“Your phone and wallet and all are at your bedside table,” Steve told him, nodding at the table to Clark’s right. “Clothes were hung in your closet.”

Clark’s heart plummeted more as he took in the sight of the hospital pajamas on his body. His Superman suit had been underneath his regular suit….as he thought about it he bolted out of bed to leap towards the closet.

“Whoa, Mr Kent, take it easy!” Steve shouted, moving to help him.

Clark’s mouth fell open as he saw only his civilian clothing hanging up, no red and blue in sight.

“My…uh…” he began, unsure of what to say, how to ask about it.

“Your shoes are at the bottom,” Steve kindly offered. “And a coworker of yours has all your other stuff, or at least that’s the message that I was given. Oh, and something was delivered overnight, I left it by your shoes.”

Clark’s gaze fell on that item, a plain black paper shopping bag sat next to his shoes, the kind one might receive from an upscale clothing store.

“Thanks,” he said to Steve, confused by it.

Steve made sure he was okay to get back to bed by himself and left him sitting on his bed after having made his breakfast selection.

As soon as the door closed, Clark darted back to the closet as fast as he could, as he still felt quite unbalanced. He sat on the floor and pulled the bag out, looking all over it but finding nothing - no label, tag,or logo. Opening it, he pulled out an equally unlabelled black shirt box, but noted it was sealed with black tape.

Holding his breath, Clark gently peeled some of the tape back and opened the box, where he was greeted with black tissue paper. Laughing from the peculiarity of it all, he pulled that aside and finally, finally saw his suit. Nothing more, but it was there in one piece, cape and all.

Finally exhaling, Clark put it back inside and covered it with the paper before resealing the box and replacing it in the bag.

“How did you get here?” he asked the bag, and searched his brain as…something came to mind. A dream? About Batman and coming here? No, that didn’t make sense he told himself, Batman didn’t know he was in town. He had had no need to let the other man know, since he was here as Clark and not as Superman.

As he closed the closet and made his way back to his bed, Clark collapsed from the mental exhaustion, and let sleep take him over once again.

____

With breakfast came one nervous Jimmy, who was carrying several items of luggage and was excited but worried to see Clark and be updated about his condition.

“I was so concerned!” Jimmy told him as he sat by the bedside while Clark ate. “But they wouldn't let me in ‘til visiting hours opened.”

“What happened yesterday?” Clark asked.

Jimmy shook his head as he thought about it. “It was crazy! Do you remember the interview with Mr Wayne?”

Clark groaned as the memories of running out of it returned to him and he silently nodded.

“Well, he told us you said you weren’t feeling well,” Jimmy told him, “and ran after you. I tried to follow but I didn’t see where you guys went! So I was looking all over for you, a bunch of us did since he was AWOL too. Next thing I know, I’m being told that he had found you passed out and arranged for you to get here.”

“What?”

Jimmy nodded. “You were already in transport when they let me know, I think he went with you? I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean I know he’s like a gazillionaire and you hear all these stories about how nice of a guy he is, but still!”

Clark ran a hand through his dark locks. “Mr Wayne got me to the hospital? How?”

Jimmy shrugged. “No clue. Maybe a private ambulance or his car or something? But you’ll never guess what also happened!”

“What?”

The younger man leaned closer. “There was an attempted robbery at the museum! Like, the floor below us! While we were there! Can you believe it?”

Clark’s mouth fell open and Jimmy nodded in agreement. “Right?!” the photographer continued. “I know it was early evening but man, how crazy are criminals, huh?”

“What happened?” Clark asked, starting to recall his fight with the men.

“Batman!” Jimmy announced, gesturing wildly. “Or so I’m told,” he admitted. “That’s what I heard, from a contact I have in Gotham, anyway…”

“He was there?” Clark asked, surprised.

“I heard museum staff say someone found one of his Batarangs or whatever there, and the robbers were all knocked out when the police got there. Isn’t that just so crazy? It’s too bad no one saw Batman or we could’ve tried to get an interview,” Jimmy sighed. “Though I’ll admit the newspapers wrote about the robbery but didn’t mention Batman, so who knows? There is a buzz about it online though…but speaking of newspapers, Lois will be glad to know you’re okay! There’s plenty of time to write the article if you think you can still do it? It’s only Wednesday and print isn’t out for it til Friday…but if you’re not –”

Clark shook his head. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure I’ll get out of here soon and I can write it then.”

“Doc said not for another day at least,” Jimmy told him. “Want me to extend my time here too?”

“No, I don’t want to keep you,” Clark said, “but thanks. Oh, but my bag is at the hotel!”

“Nah, I have it here,” Jimmy said, nodding at the bags he had set down near the door. “I canceled your room when I got back to the hotel and took your bag to my room. I planned to head to the train after this if you didn’t need me to stick around, so I brought them all with me.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Clark sighed. “My laptop is there so at least I can start to write the article.”

They continued to discuss work and the museum’s events before a doctor came in for rounds. Jimmy said his goodbyes and left to return home, and soon it was just Clark and the silence of his room to think about what the other man had shared.

“Bruce Wayne followed me out of the interview? And Batman fought the robbers? Possibly fought them?” he muttered to himself, puzzled. “That can’t be. Unless…”

Hadn’t he already thought they were one and the same?

Shaking his head, a fuzzy memory of Bruce’s face in the room of the robbery came back to Clark, who sighed.

“So…it wasn’t a dream that he was there? And then if it was him and he used the Batarang…” He shook his head, unsure of it all. Did he dare to look online? If it wasn’t in newspapers, was social media more believable?

“This seems far fetched, but also possible….I just don’t know what to think!”

Tired from everything, including his mind running in circles, Clark decided to take a shower and changed into clean pajamas, soon falling asleep yet again.
___

That afternoon, after a long call with Lois to assure her he was fine, Clark was working on his article when there was a knock at the door.

Running a hand through his hair and hoping he looked presentable, he called out to let the visitor in.

Clark was shocked to see a different doctor enter with none other than Bruce Wayne, looking as handsome as ever in a light gray suit and white shirt, with a red and blue tie.

A tie that made Clark drool; who knew his colors looked so good on the other man?

Shaking his head he turned his attention to the doctor as he fought the urge to fix his hair again.

“I’m sorry,” Clark apologized. “What did you say?”

The doctor, an older man, smiled. “It’s fine, I know you’re in rough shape. I was asking how you’re feeling?”

“Still pretty tired, but I’m able to work a bit, so that’s good,” Clark told him. “A bit of a headache too.”

The doctor nodded and checked his vitals again as Bruce stood nearby.

“Don’t mind him,” the doctor said. “He’s just worried.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “And ignore the good doctor. I’ve known him for years and trust him with everything, but he’s a bit of a busybody,” he countered. “Mr Kent, I hope you don’t mind me visiting, but I feel responsible for you being here.”

“What?” Clark asked, surprised. “Wait, call me Clark. But, what?”

Bruce gave him a small but worried smile. “You collapsed at my exhibit at the museum, so I suppose I feel responsible.”

“I…collapsed?” Clark questioned, and the Gothamite nodded.

“You didn’t look good and suddenly passed out, I got you over here as fast as I could,” Bruce continued. “Doc, how’s he look?”

“Better than when you came in, but I think another day here will be good before we send you home,” the doctor said. “And then I want you to check in with your doctor there just in case. You’ll have to take it easy for a few more days, and work from home if possible.”

Clark nodded. “Sure. I actually just need to write the article on the exhibit and I can probably take some time off after.”

Bruce smiled and Clark melted. “Glad to hear it. Good things about the exhibit, I hope,” he laughed.

Clark inwardly sighed, he could listen to that laugh all day. It was light and airy and teasing, such contrast from the gruff laughs of Batman, not that he disliked that one either.

“No, it’s a great exhibit, and I appreciate the interview with you,” Clark said. “I have that recording so I can still include it.”

“That’s good,” Bruce said. “How’s your cat, by the way?”

“What?” Clark asked, blinking in surprise.

“Your cat,” the man repeated. “I hope it will be okay with being away from you another night?”

“Oh…sure…it’s fine,” Clark lied. “Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Good,” Bruce said, smiling again.

Clark’s mind began to race. Did he bring up the kryptonite? But how to explain it to Bruce Wayne? Though, if he thought that Bruce and Batman were one and the same, the other man would understand that. He just needed to also explain that he, Clark Kent, was Superman, and that might require more to it than just a statement. But if Bruce/Batman had been at the museum…Clark sighed. Either way, he couldn’t do it when the doctor was present…but would he get another chance?

His mind whirred as he pictured it. “Um, Mr Wayne, I heard a rumor that there’s something….strange…happening at the museum? Um…like some sort of weapon, something like…oh…what was it?” he could say, trying to appear casual. “Oh, yeah, kryptonite. You know, like what affects Superman? His weakness? How would I know? Well, that’s a funny story…”

No, Clark inwardly shook his head. That wouldn’t do. It was both too obvious and too weird. He’d just reach out to Batman as soon as he could, and tell him what he knew. Of course, he’d also have to give up his identity if the other man wanted to meet, but he’d deal with that if it happened. Or should he reach out to a third party in the Justice League for help?

No, he told himself again, he didn’t want to appear to be going behind Bats’ back. He was literally in the man’s home turf, he’d never risk disrespecting him like that!

Clark turned his attention back to the doctor, who nodded to himself as he worked, before moving his eyes to Bruce, who was avidly watching them both.

The men smiled at each other, and something in Clark’s stomach flipped.

“Um, I heard there was a robbery at the museum?” Clark asked, and mourned the loss of Bruce’s smile as it turned into a slight frown.

“There was, unfortunately,” the Gothamite sighed. “I’m not entirely sure what they were after, it wasn’t anything from the new exhibit, so there’s that, I suppose.”

Clark nodded. “That’s good. And everyone was safe?” he asked.

Bruce nodded. “The robbers were stopped before they even left the room, apparently. Looks like we had some good security there.”

“Good,” Clark commented, but before either could say anything more, Bruce’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned.

“I should get going, but I’m glad to see you’re okay. Please let the staff here know if you need anything from them or me.”

Clark nodded with wide eyes at the offer, not that he expected to take the man up on it, and the two said their goodbyes as the doctor continued his examination.

Clark groaned at the loss, barely paying attention to the doctor’s questions.

The older man left a moment later, passing nurse Tina on her way in to refill Clark’s bedside drinks.

“That Mr Wayne, wow!” she said, smiling and fanning herself. “The whole floor is talking about him!”

Clark laughed. “He’s the face of Gotham, right? I’m from Metropolis myself, so I’ve only ever really seen him in the news.”

“And the news doesn’t do him justice,” Tina said, shaking her head. “Metropolis, huh? I haven’t been in ages…”

They made small talk about their cities before she left, and Clark couldn’t help but listen in as she stopped outside his semi-closed door to talk to other staff about Wayne’s visit.

Laughing to himself about it, Clark turned back to his work but his mind couldn't help but wander again. Jimmy said Batman was possibly at the robbery…but Bruce said that Clark collapsed near his exhibit and didn’t mention anything about a robbery until he had brought it up himself…

“I definitely remember fighting the robbers,” he murmured to himself. “But who’s right, Jimmy or Bruce? Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me and I imagined Bruce there…I definitely didn’t see Bats, I’d remember that for sure.”

He exhaled loudly. “I don’t know what to make of it, or who to believe. But…how did my suit get off of me, since no one has asked about it? If Bruce and Bats are the same, and it was actually Bruce…why didn’t he say anything when he was here? Or that he brought me here? Well, he at least didn’t specify on how he got me here. Maybe…because the doctor was here?”

Clark squinted at nothing in particular as he thought about it before shaking his head.

“I don’t know, but I do know that I need to let Batman know what’s at the museum so he can take a look at it, and soon. And since I don’t definitely know he is Bruce Wayne, I’ll just reach out to Batman and go from there.”

Satisfied with his decision, he unlocked his phone and dialed a number known by heart, not having ever dared to save it in his contacts.

“Yes?” a man with an English accent answered, one who Clark knew answered on behalf of Batman often enough.

“I have news to share about the robbery at the Gotham Natural History Museum,” Clark told them. “When is he free?

“Is it urgent?” the other man asked.

Clark pursed his lips. “No, but the sooner the better.”

“A call, or in person?” the voice asked. Clark paused, but damn if he wasn’t a sucker for any chance to meet Bats in person!

“In person. Gotham General Hospital, room 823, eleven o’clock tonight,” Clark told him, glancing at his clock. It was about four o’clock now, and it would be easier for Bats in the cover of darkness, right? “Unless he wants to meet earlier,” he posed, for if he was coming as Bruce Wayne…

“He’ll see you at eleven,” the man replied, and hung up.

Nodding, Clark turned his attention back to the article, trying to squash down nervousness at his decision.

___

As night fell, Clark turned the lights in his room down to the lowest setting, leaving it barely lit.

He moved to the bathroom at five of eleven, checking his reflection in the mirror time and again as he kept an ear out from the barely cracked door, waiting for his visitor to arrive. He didn’t dare put on his red and blue suit in case hospital staff came in, so his hospital pajamas would have to do!

Clark was not surprised to hear the man’s arrival on time, but was perplexed by his entry. The window opened? This was not likely for hospital rooms, and just added to the puzzle that his hospital stay was becoming…no, that his time in Gotham was…

Shrugging, Clark steeled his resolve. This was just work, right? Just part of their job. But he was lying to say he wasn’t excited to see Batman. If only it was under better circumstances, he sighed. Maybe one day under more pleasant ones…if only…

“Hello,” Clark called out, realizing that the lights in his bedroom were now fully out. That was unexpected.

“What’s going on?” the familiar voice of Batman asked, and Clark bit his lip at how surreal this all was. Being in Gotham, talking to Bruce Wayne during the day, now Batman at night, and all while wearing pajamas! Okay, he had to admit that the last part was a little strange, but this whole thing was strange!

“Batman,” Clark answered. “I have news for you regarding the attempted robbery at the museum yesterday.”

“What are you doing meeting me here?”

Clark groaned. “It’s a long story. I’m here…undercover?”

There was a pause, before the other man spoke.

“As Clark Kent?”

“Yes?” There was a pause, so Clark continued while Bats was still there. So Batman knew his identity….which meant he was Bruce Wayne? Which meant….no, focus Clark told himself! “Look, there was kryptonite in the museum, in the exhibit. I think that’s what the robbers were after, it was too much of a coincidence otherwise,” Clark called out.

“What?”

Clark sighed. “It’s true.”

Another pause followed.

“Just who are you to be telling me this?” the gruff voice challenged, and Clark’s stomach filled with dread. But didn’t the other man know who he was?

Swallowing nervously, Clark stood straight and left the bathroom.

“I’m Superman,” he said into the darkness of the room, though he could tell where the other man was. “I’m turning a light on,” he said, as he turned the lights back on, to their lowest setting.

It was unnerving, he had to admit, to see Batman in a hospital room, but also comforting.

Batman, who didn’t appear impressed.

“It’s me,” Clark repeated, though he had to admit that it was probably an unusual sight to see him out of his regular uniform and in hospital pajamas, of all things!

“I’ve somehow been called on a private line to come to a hospital room to hear a stranger talk about kryptonite in Gotham?” Batman mused. “Maybe this is the Joker’s doing, or someone else at Arkham…buddy, I think you need a different evaluation than you’ve gotten here.”

“It is me!” Clark snapped. “I stopped robbers at the museum, but the kryptonite got to me and people thought as a…civilian…that I fell ill. So I’m here recovering. That’s why I couldn't just fly to you to tell you tonight, or use the bat signal, or anything else I would otherwise do.”

“And why should I believe all that?” Batman challenged.

“I know it was you who brought me here,” Clark told him. “Or helped to, I don’t know exactly. But my suit is in a very Batman-like box, so I’m hoping it was you who took my suit off,” he said, before blushing at how that sounded. “Otherwise there’s someone here who I have to explain why I’m cosplaying as Superman.”

Batman studied him but didn’t respond.

“I mean, I want to prove it to you,” Clark continued, “but I don’t have it in me right now to fly. Or probably any super-human strength. Wait, maybe I can still use my eyes? I could look beneath your suit…” he began as he narrowed his eyes, pausing and sighing when he saw nothing.

“Eyes up here,” Batman said, and Clark blushed as he realized he had been looking elsewhere on the other man.

“Maybe I can still focus on something and melt it,” he said, glaring at his bedside chair, but frowning when his heat vision was nonexistent. “Okay, that didn’t work,” he sighed. “I could try something else…”

“I’m leaving,” Batman announced.

“I knew the number to call you, how else would I know that!” Clark reminded him. “At least just look into the artifacts for kryptonite, okay? I’m who I say I am, and that would prove it. And you have to recognize that the robbers were after something in particular, otherwise why that room out of all the other places in the museum? And why would I happen to be there at the same time? By the way,” he began, pausing. “Did anyone escape, were any innocent bystanders hurt? And were any of the artifacts broken?” he asked, recalling the vase he had fought to protect.

They stood in silence for a moment before Batman frowned.

“I’m leaving,” he stated again, and Clark sighed as the room was plunged into darkness.

Frowning, he put his glasses back on and went to take a walk in the hallway, eager to get out of the room for a moment.

He nodded at the nurses as he passed their station, and couldn’t help but hear their discussion when they thought he was safely far enough away.

“That patient sure is handsome!” one whispered.

“Yeah, he’s got this whole Superman thing going for him, like the hair, you know?” another replied in a quiet voice. “I hear he’s from Metropolis so it must be a style there.”

“My boyfriend could pull off that look,” a third said, “I’ll have to talk to him about it.”

Clark frowned and looked at his reflection in a window. He sighed - sure enough, his hair was still in his Superman-style, a lock falling forward onto his forehead. He ran a hand through his hair to try to get it back into place, hoping that his glasses kept his Clark-look together.

“They could see the resemblance, why couldn’t Bats?” he groaned.
_____

Clark was cleared for discharge the following day and learned that Bruce Wayne had arranged for a private car service to take Clark back to Metropolis from the hospital.

Asking the doctor to thank the other man for his generosity yet again, Clark settled into the plush car seat and looked out the window as they drove through Gotham.

They happened to drive past the same museum that had started all of this, driving along a side of the museum away from the main entrance, and Clark sat straighter as he saw Lucius Fox exiting the museum.

The man was talking animatedly on his cell phone as he watched several people load cases into a nondescript van before they were out of sight.

Leaning against the headrest again, Clark let out a sigh of relief. At least Batman believed him enough to look into it, he thought to himself.
___

That thought stayed with him as he returned to Metropolis and his own apartment, where he finished his article and sent it to Lois, calling her to update her on his safe return.

While he still felt overall weak, he felt a little bit stronger, physically at least. Mentally he was still drained from his brief interaction with Batman and the thought that he, as Clark, appeared to be peculiar, to say the least.

Not that he regretted it, as he needed Batman to know about the kryptonite in the man’s very own city. But it would have been nice if his identity had been believed, since he had dared to expose himself as Clark!

After all, Batman had called him by his name! Clark paused, groaning. Duh, he reminded himself, his name was written on the nursing whiteboard in the room for all to see!

“Well, if he is in fact Bruce Wayne, this has gotten extra interesting and I made a fool of myself how many times?” Clark said as he studied the photographs on his walls again. “And if he isn’t…then he knows who I am, but I don’t know who he is. Though he might not believe I am who I say I am. Either way, I trust him. Good thing, because I can’t take it back now.”

Still, it ate away at him and Friday night, Clark was dialing the same number he had a few days before.

“What?” Batman’s undeniable voice harshly asked as the man himself answered this time.

“I was hoping for an update on the kryptonite,” Clark told him, assuming the man would recognize his voice, not to mention discussion of this particular topic.

There was a pause before the other man replied.

“Come to Gotham for any questions.”

Clark cleared his throat. “I can’t.”

“You can’t,” Batman repeated. “Why?”

“I just can’t.”

“You can’t come here? Or won’t?” the other man asked. Was there a hint of amusement in his voice, or was Clark imagining it?

“I did tell you it had a strong effect on me,” Clark snapped. “Either tell me on here or…or can you come to Metropolis?”

“Hmm, can I?” Batman mused, and Clark facepalmed. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Clark pulled his phone away to glare at it. “Fine, let me know if that’s possible.”

“Midnight,” the reply came.

“The roof of the Delaney Building,” Clark said in a rush. It was a risk to give him the name of the very apartment building he lived in, but It was also a notable landmark in the city. More importantly, it was one he could get to easily in his state

“Fine,” Batman said before hanging up.

Clark sighed after the call, wondering what was to come.

___

Getting up to the roof was as easy as ever for Clark, as it was a go-to launching spot for him at night. Just as he got to the door leading outside, he pulled off his clothes revealing his familiar suit and cape.

He opened the door and breathed in the crisp night air as he stood outside, his cape fluttering in the light wind.

Watching over the city, his city, Clark felt some tension leave him as he waited for the other man to show.

“You seem fine,” a voice suddenly greeted him.

“I’ve been better,” Clark sighed.

“You look more like yourself, I suppose,” Batman said, as Clark turned to look at him. The caped crusader looked as magnificent as always, and Clark bit back a frown at the memories of their last meeting.

“I am myself, was myself then, just not…this version of me,” he said.

“And now? Because I feel like I’m still meeting a Superman impostor.”

Clark shook his head. “The kryptonite still has me out of sorts. Flying is out of the question.”

“Sure,” Batman said, clearly not believing him. “You want to glare angrily at something again to ‘prove’ you’re you?”

“If you don’t believe me” Clark challenged, “why come all the way here?”

“Maybe I was in the area, fighting crime,” the other man posed. “After all, this is a more central and exposed place to meet than usual, so I’m surprised we’re here.”

“Again, I can’t really get places right now,” Clark sighed. “I’m confused, you either believe I’m Superman, or you don’t, which is it?”

“Does it matter? What did you want to talk about?” Batman challenged.

Clark sighed. “Any updates on the kryptonite at the museum?”

“If there is any, tests are being run and the GCPD is investigating.”

Clark blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Nothing else?”

“No,” Batman said.

Clark gritted his teeth. “You came all the way here to tell me that? You could have said so over the phone!”

“I was in the area,” Batman replied. “Anything else?”

“You don’t believe I’m me,” Clark sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Right?”

“I happen to have been in Metropolis and found someone who looks like you on a rooftop so I’m here to say hello,” the other man casually said. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going.”

Clark opened his mouth to say something, anything, but closed it and shook his head, and watched Batman leap off the building.

He shook his head as he was left alone, pulling his sweatshirt, sweatpants, and glasses back on as he entered his building again, lest he run into other residents.

Once he was in the safety of his apartment he took the clothes off, carrying them as he walked down the stairs to his living room, frustrated with the exchange with Batman.

Tired, frustrated, and confused, he was literally dragging his feet when he tripped himself up. His clothes and glasses went flying as he fell face first down the stairs, just barely breaking his fall.

Clark remained lying on his steps, headfirst down them, his cape pooling around the left side of his head, and sighed.

“This is my life right now,” he muttered. “Trying to confess to Bats and be the real me and just running in circles with him and Bruce Wayne, looking peculiar each and every time...”
_____

Clark threw himself a pity party that weekend, avoiding the news in any form as well as the gazes from the pictures on his walls.

He focused on sleep, food, and the occasional movie, doing his best to recover. Little by little he improved, and tried to give himself some motivation talks for when he inevitably would run into Batman again. Hopefully not too soon, he told himself…

His hopes and plans were crushed when he received a text from a hidden number Sunday afternoon. It was the sort of communication that a certain caped crusader used to get in touch when it was not an emergency, and Clark’s heart sank as he stared at his phone.

“10pm, your rooftop,” was written when he finally dared to check.

Groaning, Clark fought the urge to reply “no!” and reminded himself that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Best to get it over with, he figured, and then he could drown his misery upon his return to work. Lois would understand and be a comforting shoulder for him.

With a heavy heart and equally heavy footsteps, he trudged back to the roof that night, barely caring enough to change out of his civilian clothes as he walked outside into the darkness.

A familiar dark figure was already standing there, black cape fluttering slightly.

Clark pursed his lips as he approached. “Why did you want to meet?” he asked, not caring anymore about pleasantries.

“I was in the area and thought you might want an update.”

Clark frowned at that statement. “You were in the area, again? You’re in this city an awful lot lately. Anything I should know?”

Batman turned to him and the two men stared at each other. “You were right, there was kryptonite in the items the robbers were after.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “You think?”

“We’ve removed it and are testing the rest of the museum. Sorry you were exposed to it for so long.”

Clark shrugged. “No one knew, it didn’t look like it’s natural form.” He paused. “Wait, I never said how long I was around it for. How did you know?”

“Well, you were at the museum all day, so you must have been affected by it for hours,” Batman said with a slight frown.

“How would you know that?” Clark asked, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms.

“And I’m assuming you heard the robbers during our interview,” the other man continued, and Clark’s jaw dropped. “Otherwise why else tell me such a stupid lie?”

“You knew who I was all along?” Clark asked, dropping his arms to his side in surprise.

Batman…Bruce…shrugged. “Why else do you think I agreed to an interview with a newspaper from your city? It was worth it, you were pretty cute when you were flustered during the interview. But when you left suddenly, I knew something was wrong”

“So you followed me?”

Batman nodded. “You fought most of them but it was worrying when you weren’t yourself and especially so when you began to collapse just as I got there. I got you to the hospital and changed before anyone could notice.”

“You did?” Clark asked in a higher pitched voice than he intended. “But why there, it seems like a risky choice, no?”

Batman shook his head. “Why do you think it was that room in particular? It’s my…private room, shall we say. Easy to get in and out of. And I did say I’ve known that doctor for forever, so he’s well aware of certain situations like ours.”

Clark nodded as he began to understand it all. “So he also knew? Huh…”

“He knew enough,” the other man assured him.

“So when I was trying to tell you about it…” Clark began, his mind reeling.

“I wanted to see how far you’d take it. By the way, everyone is fine. So is the vase.”

“You…I can’t believe you,” Clark sighed, shaking his head. “I was so embarrassed!”

They stood in silence as both processed what had been discussed.

Clark bit his lip, unsure of what to do or say now. Both knew who the other was…and hadn’t he confessed his feelings, or at least alluded to them when he was helped into pajamas by Bats, since now he knew that definitely wasn’t a dream?

Oh god, he was helped out of his suit and into pajamas by the same face he had hung in how many places in his apartment?!

Suddenly, Batman spoke.

“When you’re feeling better, come over for dinner.”

“What?” Clark asked, surprised. He looked over at the other man, but the dark knight had turned back to look out over the city again. “Where? How? What?”

“Wayne Manor,” Batman said, looking at him with a smirk. “I’ll leave the west terrace door open. I think you know the way there.”

And with that, he leapt away, leaving Clark standing on the roof watching him go.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Clark sighed as he breathed in the night air, feeling a weight lift off of him that he had carried for the past several days. Suddenly, he frowned. “I hope I’m okay to fly by next weekend, because I’m not waiting longer than that for our date!”