[ Oh hi Lois. He's surprise you left a message instead of actually calling, but hey, you're pretty clear about this.
So. Saturday noon (three, four hours before his shift as Matches-), after popping into the office for a couple of minutes to finish up the last bits of a project... he's waiting at the entrance, leaning against the wall with his eyes half-closed.
He had less than five hours of sleep added together for the past two days. It's just resting his eyes; not dozing off.
[She left a message because she didn't want to get embroiled in a conversation when she needed to shower, clean up a little, down some coffee, and explore her way over to meeting Clark in two hours or so.
On Saturday, however, she heads to the Mall for lunch--she'd figured out where it was on her exploration-cum-navigational-attempt to get to the new apartment==and stops to regard Bruce.
Funny, how tired he looks.
Lois frowns a moment, sipping her coffee, and eventually saunters up and waves the coffee under his nose. In her experience, that's enough to get a bit of human response.
Then again, her experience is the point of view of a person with a proven addiction-prone personality.]
[ The sudden close proximity isn't something he expects, because he honestly has dozed off for a few seconds there- but once he feels something being waved in his face, his eyes snap open and he reaches out, closing his fingers around her wrist- and immediately letting go and dropping it back to his side when his brain kicks in and he recognizes her.
Note to self: get some actual sleep. He is tired, especially since he's been running on two to three hours daily for weeks. He rubs at his eyes a little. ]
Someone so entirely bossy- you must be Lois Lane. [ He smirks a little, blinking the bleariness away and sliding the Brucie Wayne persona effortlessly over his face. ]
Lois, however, raises her eyebrows at him with a trace of amusement written over the sardonic expression. He really is tired, if he's slipping this much. And she's more convinced than ever that meeting him away from Clark was a good idea.]
We have spoken over the Network before--I would expect even you to recognize me from a video. [Especially you, lying liar who lies. Besides, she's even wearing the same jacket she was that night. Lois is already going to be eying the mall keeping an eye out for expanding her wardrobe.]
Only when they look about ready to fall over on the sidewalk. [She sips her coffee coolly.] All right. Seeing as you claim your bank account followed you across dimensions, you get to pick up lunch today.
[Besides, she needs a job before she can deal with this sort of thing herself. She's already working on that thought, though.]
[ He laughs at that, because it's exactly like Lois to phrase it that way. 'You get to pick up lunch today', indeed. It's not much different from sauntering up to him when he visits the Planet and demanding that he gets to buy her flowers for the visit.
Bruce's lips quirk upwards. ]
I thank your highness for the privilege. [ He does a sweeping bow, right in the middle of the street, while walking.
Then- ]
Oh, believe me, if I'm to fall asleep on the sidewalk, I would've found a pillow. [ Pause. He tilts his head, squints a little. ]
[For all that Bruce weirds her out a lot, and she's concerned about who he is in the scheme of things, that bow is enough to actually make her laugh.
It really is almost like dealing with Oliver--except Bruce is a lot more... she's not sure what the word is. Puzzling, and maybe worrying; she wonders if threatening's really the word she's going for, or if it's just her own current paranoia.
She gives him a sardonic look.]
Walls don't make very good pillows, I've found.
[And then, after a pause, she looks at him directly.] Not really, no. But let's find a place to sit, hmm?
[ Extravagant, perhaps. Intense. Larger than life. Simply more, in ways that couldn't exactly be said, because he is a man who defined himself by his refusal to give up; by his stubborn will to win any situation and to make them into what he sees to be right.
And he's usually correct about his visions. It helps, in this case, that he's from the future. Not exactly their future, no- but something close enough to it.
He recognizes the cynicism, the skepticism, and he hides a smirk behind a guileless grin. ]
Conversations are better enjoyed while sitting. [ He folds his hands. ] The food court's just ahead. We can go to the second floor - the first's just fast food.
And god forbid Bruce Wayne ever go near Mickey D's. Fine by me--that kind of weight's always nigh-impossible to work off after anyway.
[She decides that, just to set a precedent for this conversation, she will refuse to follow meekly along and sets off herself for inside and the second floor, a little more briskly--and downing the rest of the coffee as she goes. For one, she's hungry.
For another? Especially after that first conversation, where he kept holding information over her head, Lois may or may not have decided this is something of a power competition, and she never backs down from a contest.
And thirdly, he's right. This isn't social, it's business, and as such she's in work mode--even if in this case the 'work' is figuring out what the hell is going on with the latest billionaire who, apparently, got magnetically pulled to her superpowered boyfriend and who knows far, far too much about him.]
[ The thing is- it has never been some kind of power competition between them. Bruce knows that he holds most of the information and hence has an incredible amount of leverage on Lois. It's her who needs the information that he wants - such as who he really is, what does he really know, and if he means harm to the people she loves.
And he's not going to tell her straight out - what's the use of information if you squander it, after all? No, Bruce needs a good reason or ten before he's going to tell her who he really is - back in their world, Lois knows because he miscalculated and thought that Clark would automatically tell her, since she is his wife. Right now... he was pretty sure that she knows that Clark is Superman - or the Blur as he was calling himself - but he doesn't know if he has told her.
That, combined with her reactions, tells him that she doesn't know. It's odd, how much a person can give away. Bruce just follows behind her until they found a restaurant. ]I didn't realize that being a reporter means having to work out
( ... )
[Clark wasn't about to just tell her Bruce's secrets--he has more discretion than that--but, well, she's been hearing a lot of the rest, and may even have a bit of information Clark does not.
Still she gives him a wry look.]
It has nothing to do with being a reporter.
[Lois is just female and, sometimes, very normal--adoration for an alien aside, she really can be a regular human female. And being just a wee bit vain? Definitely one of those ways.
Once they do find a restaurant--Lois is in the mood for Italian, apparently?--and they have water and are left alone at last by the waiter, she leans forward.]
You know a lot more about Clark--and, apparently, Oliver Queen--than a lot of people who spend a lot of time around them. My questions are how, why, and what you're intending to do with it.
[ Clark hasn't even told his parents about who Bruce is, while Bruce has very easily dropped the bombshell of Clark's identity on Alfred. It's a little odd, how their positions seem reversed when it comes to other people's secrets instead of his own.
He cocks his head at those words, and there's a little smile at the edge of his mouth. Barely visible - anyone glancing at him would think that his expression is entirely blank, that maybe he's spacing out of the conversation. But he's listening alright, weighing what Lois is saying.
He'll be surprised that she hasn't realized that he knows far more than he is saying- and her getting straight to the point... well, that's how she does it, right? But it also shows how eager she is for the information, how uneasy it makes her that he has it.
He lifts the glass of water, sips it to wet his lips. The silence stretches, and he watches her for some time without saying a word. ]
You're really demanding, aren't you? [ A trace of amusement, and yes, he is testing her patience. ]Tell me first:
( ... )
[Lois is, frankly, not in a mood to have her patience tested--which oddly means that she's also ignoring her own frustration far more than she normally would.
Lois, perversely being more patient when people are trying to piss her off? Quite possibly. She's just contrary like that sometimes--and this is definitely one of those times, not least because she knows she has to keep a cool, clear head.
So Clark trusts him. She generally trusts his judgment--but, well, she's also being a little paranoid at the moment.
Her voice is cool and pleasant.] Quite frankly, I don't see that my relationship with him, or what we may or may not say to each other, is actually any of your business unless one of us volunteers the information.
And, if you'll notice from my question a moment ago, I don't particularly care what information you may have that he hasn't told me yet. We'll talk it over in our own time.
Then I can't tell you anything. [ Simply, and he's leaning back against his seat. ] Unless you told me that he actually told you what you obviously already know, I can't reveal anything.
I just said it's not about that--not about revealing anything. [Except it is, a little--if it's the right things he won't discuss, then she'll relax a little.]
He's talked about you a lot, though, and he trusts you. But he's been hurt by people he trusted before.
[Her own water is entirely forgotten, for the moment.] And I think we both know his own... kindness sometimes blinds him to when someone means to take advantage of him.
He trusts me because I know a version of him, in the future, and the version trusts me. [ He curls his lips up - if she's sharp, and he knows she is, she will realize that this means that he's one of the capes. One of those whom he would have to trust, in one way or another, simply because of how they work. ]
And all he had on that is my word. [ He curls his lips upwards, a little too sharp. ] So I definitely know what you're talking about.
This is Lois Lane--Clark's girlfriend that he always talks about, apparently. I'm busy the rest of today, probably, but we need to talk.
Lunch, Saturday-noon, that 24-hour mall place. I know Clark trusts you--but we both know he can blind himself a little, don't we.
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So. Saturday noon (three, four hours before his shift as Matches-), after popping into the office for a couple of minutes to finish up the last bits of a project... he's waiting at the entrance, leaning against the wall with his eyes half-closed.
He had less than five hours of sleep added together for the past two days. It's just resting his eyes; not dozing off.
Really. ]
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On Saturday, however, she heads to the Mall for lunch--she'd figured out where it was on her exploration-cum-navigational-attempt to get to the new apartment==and stops to regard Bruce.
Funny, how tired he looks.
Lois frowns a moment, sipping her coffee, and eventually saunters up and waves the coffee under his nose. In her experience, that's enough to get a bit of human response.
Then again, her experience is the point of view of a person with a proven addiction-prone personality.]
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Note to self: get some actual sleep. He is tired, especially since he's been running on two to three hours daily for weeks. He rubs at his eyes a little. ]
Someone so entirely bossy- you must be Lois Lane. [ He smirks a little, blinking the bleariness away and sliding the Brucie Wayne persona effortlessly over his face. ]
Do you usually accost men with coffee?
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Lois, however, raises her eyebrows at him with a trace of amusement written over the sardonic expression. He really is tired, if he's slipping this much. And she's more convinced than ever that meeting him away from Clark was a good idea.]
We have spoken over the Network before--I would expect even you to recognize me from a video. [Especially you, lying liar who lies. Besides, she's even wearing the same jacket she was that night. Lois is already going to be eying the mall keeping an eye out for expanding her wardrobe.]
Only when they look about ready to fall over on the sidewalk. [She sips her coffee coolly.] All right. Seeing as you claim your bank account followed you across dimensions, you get to pick up lunch today.
[Besides, she needs a job before she can deal with this sort of thing herself. She's already working on that thought, though.]
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Bruce's lips quirk upwards. ]
I thank your highness for the privilege. [ He does a sweeping bow, right in the middle of the street, while walking.
Then- ]
Oh, believe me, if I'm to fall asleep on the sidewalk, I would've found a pillow. [ Pause. He tilts his head, squints a little. ]
I don't think this is a social call, mm?
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It really is almost like dealing with Oliver--except Bruce is a lot more... she's not sure what the word is. Puzzling, and maybe worrying; she wonders if threatening's really the word she's going for, or if it's just her own current paranoia.
She gives him a sardonic look.]
Walls don't make very good pillows, I've found.
[And then, after a pause, she looks at him directly.] Not really, no. But let's find a place to sit, hmm?
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And he's usually correct about his visions. It helps, in this case, that he's from the future. Not exactly their future, no- but something close enough to it.
He recognizes the cynicism, the skepticism, and he hides a smirk behind a guileless grin. ]
Conversations are better enjoyed while sitting. [ He folds his hands. ] The food court's just ahead. We can go to the second floor - the first's just fast food.
[ And Bruce doesn't eat fast food. ]
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And god forbid Bruce Wayne ever go near Mickey D's. Fine by me--that kind of weight's always nigh-impossible to work off after anyway.
[She decides that, just to set a precedent for this conversation, she will refuse to follow meekly along and sets off herself for inside and the second floor, a little more briskly--and downing the rest of the coffee as she goes. For one, she's hungry.
For another? Especially after that first conversation, where he kept holding information over her head, Lois may or may not have decided this is something of a power competition, and she never backs down from a contest.
And thirdly, he's right. This isn't social, it's business, and as such she's in work mode--even if in this case the 'work' is figuring out what the hell is going on with the latest billionaire who, apparently, got magnetically pulled to her superpowered boyfriend and who knows far, far too much about him.]
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And he's not going to tell her straight out - what's the use of information if you squander it, after all? No, Bruce needs a good reason or ten before he's going to tell her who he really is - back in their world, Lois knows because he miscalculated and thought that Clark would automatically tell her, since she is his wife. Right now... he was pretty sure that she knows that Clark is Superman - or the Blur as he was calling himself - but he doesn't know if he has told her.
That, combined with her reactions, tells him that she doesn't know. It's odd, how much a person can give away. Bruce just follows behind her until they found a restaurant. ]I didn't realize that being a reporter means having to work out ( ... )
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Still she gives him a wry look.]
It has nothing to do with being a reporter.
[Lois is just female and, sometimes, very normal--adoration for an alien aside, she really can be a regular human female. And being just a wee bit vain? Definitely one of those ways.
Once they do find a restaurant--Lois is in the mood for Italian, apparently?--and they have water and are left alone at last by the waiter, she leans forward.]
You know a lot more about Clark--and, apparently, Oliver Queen--than a lot of people who spend a lot of time around them. My questions are how, why, and what you're intending to do with it.
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He cocks his head at those words, and there's a little smile at the edge of his mouth. Barely visible - anyone glancing at him would think that his expression is entirely blank, that maybe he's spacing out of the conversation. But he's listening alright, weighing what Lois is saying.
He'll be surprised that she hasn't realized that he knows far more than he is saying- and her getting straight to the point... well, that's how she does it, right? But it also shows how eager she is for the information, how uneasy it makes her that he has it.
He lifts the glass of water, sips it to wet his lips. The silence stretches, and he watches her for some time without saying a word. ]
You're really demanding, aren't you? [ A trace of amusement, and yes, he is testing her patience. ]Tell me first: ( ... )
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Lois, perversely being more patient when people are trying to piss her off? Quite possibly. She's just contrary like that sometimes--and this is definitely one of those times, not least because she knows she has to keep a cool, clear head.
So Clark trusts him. She generally trusts his judgment--but, well, she's also being a little paranoid at the moment.
Her voice is cool and pleasant.] Quite frankly, I don't see that my relationship with him, or what we may or may not say to each other, is actually any of your business unless one of us volunteers the information.
And, if you'll notice from my question a moment ago, I don't particularly care what information you may have that he hasn't told me yet. We'll talk it over in our own time.
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[ He sips at the water more, entirely calm. ]
It's as simple as that.
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He's talked about you a lot, though, and he trusts you. But he's been hurt by people he trusted before.
[Her own water is entirely forgotten, for the moment.] And I think we both know his own... kindness sometimes blinds him to when someone means to take advantage of him.
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And all he had on that is my word. [ He curls his lips upwards, a little too sharp. ] So I definitely know what you're talking about.
[ He folds his hands. ]
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