The Maddest Trick a Man Can Ever Play
The Maddest Trick a Man Can Ever Play
by Mara
Summary: Batman does *not* celebrate New Year’s Eve. But Superman does.
“Master Bruce…” Alfred sounded like he was at his wit’s end when Clark
strolled down the steps into the Cave, which was as damp and uncomfortable as
ever.
“Alfred, as I have said for the past hour, I am not going to waste New Year’s
Eve at some ball when there will be the usual crime going on. I’ll send a check
to whatever charity it is, but that’s it.” Bruce hadn’t moved from his position
standing at the main computer or even looked up. “What are you doing here,
Clark?”
Clark shrugged. He’d given up trying to figure out Bruce’s tricks years
previously. “I’m attending the ball tonight and Alfred pointed out I could
change here and ride with you.”
Bruce whirled, face taut and white. “I’ve got a possible serial killer out
there, plus the usual madness and you expect me to be Bruce Wayne?”
Clark smiled at Alfred and the older man sighed as he trudged up the stairs.
When Clark heard the clock door snick shut, he turned to look at Bruce, genial
smile firmly in place.
Bruce glared, every dangerous inch of him poised for battle.
Clark leaned against a cabinet he knew held spare uniforms, hands tucked in his
pockets, and continued to smile, projecting genial with all his might.
Bruce glared harder, crossing his arms. “I’m not going.”
“Okay,” Clark said with a shrug, smile undimmed.
Bruce opened his mouth to argue, then shut it when he realized Clark wasn’t
arguing. His eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”
Clark widened his smile a trifle. “Nothing, Bruce. I’m just standing here.”
Bruce looked suspicious. “Right. I’ll just…go back to work then.” He waited a
beat, but when Clark didn’t move, Bruce sat back down at the computer.
It wasn’t entirely a ruse, Clark thought as he watched Bruce’s quicksilver
thoughts shuffle and reshuffle evidence, data, and theories on the giant
screens. There was something intensely sexy about watching Bruce work and
usually he couldn’t pay as much attention as he’d like. After all, it wouldn’t
do for Superman to be caught mooning over Batman like a teenage girl with a
crush.
It took almost exactly as long as he’d predicted–after half an hour, Bruce
started to slow in his work, clicking on the wrong portion of the screen and
developing a twitch in one shoulder.
Suppressing a grin, Clark waited.
Bruce’s hands slowed, then stopped. After a full two minutes staring at the
screen, he turned the chair around. “What are you doing?”
“I’m watching you work. What does it look like?” Clark raised his eyebrows in a
parody of innocence he knew would make Bruce fume.
“Clark.”
The low growl was exactly the sign he’d been looking for, and Clark gave up his
relaxed pose. Stalking forward, he grabbed Bruce’s shoulders and pulled him up
and forward into a searing kiss. Bruce struggled for a second, but finally
relaxed into the kiss, grabbing Clark’s shirt and pulling him closer.
When Clark let go, Bruce’s breathing was fast and his pulse sounded like a
jackhammer to superhearing.
Clark smiled at him again, but his time allowed the Man of Steel to show
through. “It is New Year’s Eve. I would like to attend this charity ball with
you and on the stroke of midnight kiss you so hard you forget your name.”
Swallowing, Bruce appeared speechless–possibly the first time that had ever
occurred in Clark’s presence. Maybe the first time *ever*.
“Does this plan meet with your approval?” Clark asked.
Bruce closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Patrol–”
“Will be done by some of the many operatives you have on tap. And if that’s not
sufficient, I will make several speed circuits over the city throughout the
course of the evening to ensure all is quiet.”
Bruce started to say something and Clark took the opportunity to kiss him again-
-a kiss full of tongue and heat and strength and promise.
This time when they broke off, Bruce glared at him. “I won’t make a habit of
this.”
“Of course not,” Clark said.
“And when you do your overflights, you’ll stay out of range of eyes and
cameras.”
“Naturally.”
Bruce glared. “But you should know I’m only agreeing to this because otherwise
you and Alfred will hound me for hours and waste the whole day.”
“Of course.” Clark smiled, ever gracious in victory.
“Are you smirking?”
Clark put a hand to his chest. “Does Superman smirk?”
“No, but Clark does.”
“What can I say?” Clark shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”
Bruce grinned. “And if I have to go to this ridiculous ball, you’re going to
demonstrate every one of those talents to me later to make up for it.” And he
turned back to the computer.
Clark blinked. For some reason, he suddenly felt as if he’d been
outmaneuvered…
–end