Chapter Text
The myth. The legend. The caped crusader. The Dark Knight. The protector of Gotham. He goes by many names.
Clark would like to add another title to that.
A pain in the ass. (He immediately apologised to his Ma in his head after the thought sprang up).
When they first met, Clark was in awe of the whole ‘strike terror in your enemies’ thing Batman had going on. He diligently followed Batman’s ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule and stayed away when he could. But as Clark Kent, investigative journalist and seeker of truth and justice, well, staying away from a place teeming with new stories and cases to crack was not easy. Or possible.
So he started going over into the city a lot as Clark Kent, chasing leads, meeting with shady connections, stalking criminals. Which came with a set of problems Clark did not expect at all. Most of the time, doing investigative work in a shady city like Gotham meant risking your life at the hands of criminals, but no. All of Clark’s problems came in a man-sized dark shape with a bat symbol on his chest.
Every lead. Every meet-up. Every. Single. Case. Batman would be there without fail, crashing in and taking the criminals down, Clark’s story going down with it. All the admiration and awe he held for Batman slowly started turning into mild irritation at the sight of him (which is entirely not true; Clark held other feelings for the man clad in Kevlar, which he refused to name).
It was the fourth story of that year that Batman had foiled due to his timely intervention, and it was only July. Clark had nothing to show Perry, and as punishment, was assigned to accompany Cat to the upcoming Gotham Art and History Museum Gala that was happening a week later.
He sighed as he flopped down on his chair in the office, dropping his bag on the table and staring dumbly at the small potted plant he kept on the table. What the hay. For all his investigative journalist title and capabilities, he was not feeling like one right now.
“You ok there, Smallville?” Lois asked, striding up to her table holding a coffee cup (which was probably 75% sugar and 25% coffee). She quirked her eyebrow questioningly as he looked up, and Clark sighed after a beat.
“Batman.” He said, shaking his head. Oh, mouthed Lois, nodding in understanding as she flopped down on her chair, somehow miraculously keeping her cup from spilling.
“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole,” Lois agreed. “You remember the exclusive I was working on about Tony Drake and his ecstasy operation in Gotham? Got foiled by the Bat a week before I wrapped up,” Lois shrugged as she worked on her article. “There’s nothing we can do, Smallville. It’s his city, and there’s only so much story we’ll get before he swoops in.”
Clark nodded in defeat, powering on his own device. This was going to be a long day.
Contrary to his expectations, the day went by pretty quickly as Clark did research for another article he was planning to pitch, and he only had to slip out of the office three times for Superman-related duties. And to his surprise, the coffee machine in the breakroom spit out a decent cup of coffee instead of the sludge he usually got, and the rain that had started pouring an hour before he was supposed to leave the office dissipated by the time he walked out of the building, leaving behind the scent of petrichor and a world that had suddenly become brighter and clearer.
Buying a toasty croissant from the bakery near his place (because the rain always made him crave warm baked items for some reason), Clark made his way up to his apartment, skipping a few steps as he hummed a Mighty Crabjoys song. Just for the sake of it, he cast his hearing out to Smallville, grinning as he heard his Ma hum a folksy tune as she bustled about the kitchen, Pa dutifully helping her with preparing the ingredients.
With his hearing cast out, Clark didn’t notice a heartbeat inside his apartment until it was too late. He slipped into the apartment and turned the lights on, only for a tall shadow to appear against the brightness.
“Holy mother of-” Clark yelped, slamming his mouth shut with his hand, his back hitting the door (fortunately, he managed to control his strength in the last minute, which meant it slammed the door shut instead of blasting it into smithereens).
“Batman! Batman.” Clark said, his tone going from shocked to sour within seconds. He managed to hang his coat and bag on the stand before making his way to the kitchen, taking a bite out of his croissant as he poured two glasses of water. “What brings you to my apartment?” His tone was casual, which was jarring considering the circumstances.
The Gotham Bat, who had silently observed the whole thing the entire time, moved towards the kitchen counter while sticking to the shadows. “I have a proposition for you.”
Clark raised his eyebrow in apprehension. “Do you now.”
Without a word, Batman produced a large file he was hiding in the folds of his cape, dropping it on the counter. Clark pushed a glass of water to Batman with a nod as he pulled the file towards himself. “And you brought this to me because…? I feel like Lois Lane would’ve been the better candidate for this.” And it was the truth; she had more experience and was practically the star journalist of The Daily Planet.
“She’s too nosy,” Batman said immediately and, was that annoyance?
“Right,” Clark said slowly, and while the reason made sense, he still sounded like he did not trust the hero a single bit. If he were in his Superman suit, the conversation would be going a lot more differently but right now, as Clark Kent, he was feeling disgruntled by Batman’s meddling, so sue him.
“I need a journalist to break the story while I take down the plot from the inside,” Batman continued, his modified deep voice echoing through the apartment. “If their plan goes through, it’s going to hurt a lot more people than we can imagine, and I will not stand by while that happens.”
Wow. That was the most Clark had ever heard the vigilante talk. He almost wondered whether he was dreaming before he pushed the thought away. “Then you could’ve gone to anyone in the Gotham Gazette, that’s your home turf after all.”
“They will be more invested in finding out who I am behind the mask to care about the case. It has to be you.” There was an edge to Batman’s voice that Clark could not quite place, so he shrugged it off.
“Right. Because you know me that well,” Clark said sarcastically, stuffing the rest of the croissant into his mouth.
“Because I trust you to have integrity. Based on the observations I have made at least,” Batman said without missing a beat, and Clark almost choked because was that a compliment? Did THE Batman compliment Clark while standing in his apartment? What is going on?
Finally swallowing the croissant, Clark cleared his throat and opened the file, only for his stomach to drop. He looked up at Batman, troubled.
“Luthor’s involved?”
Batman grunted. “Luthor and Scarecrow. I need more intel from Metropolis, and that’s another reason why I chose… a journalist here. This seems to be aimed at bringing down-”
“-both you and Superman,” Clark said, flipping through the file, too absorbed with the information to notice the uncharacteristic pause Batman made. “Will you be going to him with this?” Clark asked, staring inquisitively.
“That’s not for you to know. The information for you to begin your side of the investigation is there in that file, and that’s all you need to worry about,” the vigilante said curtly.
“Right,” Clark sighed, shutting the file. “If I do get a lead, how am I supposed to contact you? Or is this a ‘I’ll know when to find you’ situation?” Clark asked, making his voice more gruff and doing air quotes.
Batman’s lips twitched very faintly before nodding at the file. “There’s a small comm in that. It’s a secure line, but I would prefer sharing information in-person to avoid any risks. Contact me on that, and I’ll come here.” Clark nodded along, when a bizarre thought suddenly hit him, and he snorted, “Ya know, this almost feels like retribution for all the times you spoiled my leads.”
And to Clark’s surprise, Batman flinched. It was almost imperceptible, and if Clark were human, he would have missed it.
“I understand that chasing stories is important for journalists like you, but protecting Gotham comes first, and I will do whatever it takes, even if it means making a few reckless journalists unhappy.” He paused, and after a beat, he said very quietly, “But yes, I hope this does make up for all the exclusives I spoiled in the past.” With that, Batman turned abruptly and grappled out the window, leaving a very stunned Clark behind to process everything that had happened.
Because Batman, who famously does not work with anyone, came to him. Knew his name. And was amused by him? And had possibly stalked him? (That worried him for a bit but it did not seem like Batman knew Clark was Superman).
It was in times like these that Clark wished he could get drunk, but he sighed and settled for Chinese as he took out his phone. He worried his lip as he stared at the file, before sighing again because he seemed to be doing that a lot today. He ordered food from his favourite Chinese place before going to shower and change so that he could get settled on his couch to start on his new story.
This was going to be a long night.