Logbook, Day 141

Earth. Arrived at JLA Headquarters four hours ago. League, understandably, quite surprised to see us, save for NW who wishes for the record to note that he was never worried. Currently in sick bay recovering with antibiotics for leg injury; transferring to Gotham General as part of contingency plan.

****

Bruce woke to two sounds: one new, one he'd heard almost every night for four months. An electrocardiogram was beeping and Clark Kent was softly snoring, dozing on the chair next to his bed, arms crossed, head back. Dick, in the opposite chair, saw Bruce was awake and grinned, putting down his magazine as he came over. "Right?" he said, stretching. "Must have practice. Being a reporter deep in the rain forest for the last four and a half months? Must've had to sleep through a lot more noises than heart monitors. Parrots and toucans. Jaguars and anaconda! "

"I think the anacondas are pretty quiet, actually," Bruce said. "And I'd poke him awake, but the IV has me tethered."

Clark had one eye open now, and a touch of the smile he was trying not to show. He pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened his jacket. "Just resting my eyes," he said. "Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Well, I imagine Lois was glad to see you-"

"Bruce," Clark said primly, looking pointedly at Dick, who only grinned wider. "We had a lot of work to do," Clark added, and he only made it worse by turning a little pink. "For winding up her stories. The ones she wrote under my byline."

"Hmm." Bruce raised an eyebrow. "So that's what they're calling it now."

"Winding up or bylines?" Dick said, laughing.

Tim came through the door with a cup of coffee in each hand. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Bruce said. "Clark was just catching us up on his… civic responsibilities."

Tim's forehead wrinkled like he knew something was up but Bruce watched him choose to let it slide. Probably still thinking about his new invention's scanning range. "You're lucky your wife's a good ghost writer. I've been reading her-I mean your stuff. She's got your style down. It's a decent environmental piece, too. Who wants one of these?" Tim hoisted the cups in his hand, bumping the door with his shoulder to make sure it closed completely. "I just got 'em for cover."

"Give it to sleepyhead, there." Dick jerked his chin at Clark. "Guy needs to stay up."

Bruce nodded. "Maintain his fortitude..."

"Guarantee his vigor…"

"Okay, that's enough!" Clark said. "Thank you, Tim, for the coffee. And the room's clear?"

"Crystal. Used my new echo-oscillator. Can locate bugs through a three-sensor testing mechanism. The hardest part was programming around the variable interface but I figured that out last week."

"It's remarkable," Bruce said because it definitely was, and because Tim had that look like he could go on explaining for another thirty minutes. "And because of it, we can speak freely. But I'd still like the television on, please. Just for a little extra cover."

"Sure, Bruce." Tim flicked it on something inane, then looked from Bruce to Clark. "You look over the files I downloaded yet?"

"I did," Bruce said, smiling. "Pretty impressive. Both of you." He nodded at Dick. "Staging a Metropolis double bill."

"Yeah, well." Tim was obviously pleased. "We kept, you know, thinking, why not? More reason to throw everybody off."

"Can't say they never see you guys on the same rooftop."

"Lois," Clark said, "was extremely impressed."

"I'll say," Tim practically elbowed Dick with his eyes.

"Hey, hey." Dick held up his palms. "I had nothing to do with that. Nothing!"

"Except as the kissee."

"It was for cover." Dick said, now suddenly prim himself.

Tim laughed. "It sealed the deal. Dick's swoop down off the Planet was awesome! In your cape? It really did look like he could fly."

"Lois said it was phenomenal. She said that must've been what motivated her to kiss you."

Dick blushed, because Clark, of all people, was the one who could make him feel bashful. "Aw, thanks." He practically dug his toes in metaphorical dirt. "But you know," he said quickly, earnest. "It was Bruce's contingency plan."

"Not the kiss."

"Well, that's true. We spitballed that one," Dick said, with what Bruce could only blink at as a poor choice of words, but if Dick noticed, he kept going anyway. "And Tim! He was an awesome Batman," he said, and Tim positively glowed.

The phone on the bedside table jangled and Dick picked it up. "Uh huh," he said, covering the receiver with his hand. "Channel Five wants a statement."

"Go take care of it, would you?" Bruce said, indicating both boys. "Stick to version A but hint at version B."

Tim nodded. "Tibet was refreshing though the accident with the yak was unfortunate."

"The Buddhists aren't talking," Dick added, dropping into his public speaking register. "Though there's still the rumor about how you escaped from rehab with the supermodel-"

"Alfred." Tim said, putting down his coffee, "said he heard it was Betty Ford."

"So plebeian." Bruce shook his head. "Try to work in a mention of the Maserati crash but deny everything. Dick, you're in charge of spinning the hush money story."

"Let's good heir - bad heir 'em, Tim. You go first and I'll meet you down there."

Tim grabbed his messenger bag, no doubt loaded with more experimental gadgets. "See you at the party, Clark?"

"Wouldn't miss another Wayne Manor extravaganza. And thank you again, Tim. Thank you." Clark shook Tim's hand, warm but a little formal, because Tim was clearly a little overwhelmed.

Tim only blushed slightly. "You're welcome."

"Dick wouldn't let anyone else impersonate you," Bruce said as the door closed behind Tim. "I don't know whether I'm more proud or hurt that he passed along my mantle instead of yours."

Dick fist-bumped Bruce's shoulder. "Sorry. I just wanted the show to be as perfect as I could."

"Where'd he get that from," Clark said, shaking his head. "This… perfectionism?"

"I have no idea," Bruce said.

"Yeah, me either." Dick shrugged. "Some rigid attention to detail, some obsessive need to control, some compulsive-"

Bruce coughed politely. "Don't they need you for your close-up, Mr. Showman?"

"Sure thing, Bruce." Dick headed for the door.

"Dick," Clark said, following. "We couldn't have done-"

"Hey, like I said before, I knew you'd get back. You had each other, right?"

"And you here. Thank you." Clark reached out his hand and it started as a handshake but turned into a hug, clapping each other hard on the back and holding on.

"Good thing you two finally got your act together, though." Dick cleared his throat, finally pulling away. "Getting tired of working three jobs."

****

When Clark Kent finally got there, Bruce's Welcome Home party was in full swing. The house glowed with soft lights and soft music, and he was almost at the front door when he caught sight of Vicki Vale in the foyer. The last thing he wanted to do was talk shop or give away tomorrow's cover story, so he hung a left and went around the side to step through the open French doors. The place was packed, but near the fireplace was Lois, in a red evening gown, and she came to greet him.

"Clark! You finally made it. Get the story turned in?"

"Tomorrow's cover story's ready." Clark lowered his voice. "Of course, I had to actually go to the rain forest to get the dirt on Acme's broken agreement."

"You get pictures of the clear-cutting?"

"Jimmy took 'em, and we've got enough to ruin their PR for a decade."

"Good boy."

"Clark!" Dick yelled and then there was back-slapping and calling Tim over too. "Come on," Dick pulled him through the throng of guests, Lois and Tim following. "You need to pull your aw-shucks routine and rescue Bruce from the supermodel who won't leave him alone…" he trailed off when they got close enough to see Bruce.

"Oh," Clark said. "I don't know that he wants a rescue." Selina Kyle was tilting her heart-shaped face up to Bruce's as she smoothed his lapel with a touch that somehow managed to be filthy, and the look Bruce was firing back at her made it obvious that he thought so too.

Tim snorted with the disgust that teenagers save for old people making out. But Dick just rolled his eyes."Bruce, look who I found!"

Bruce tore his gaze from the woman caressing his collar and smiled, slow and lazy, every inch the smarmy playboy he was supposed to be. "Mr. Kent, isn't it? How nice of you to drop by, but I'm afraid I won't be able to give any press interviews. I never mix business with pleasure." The ice in his almost-empty glass clinked as he swirled it. "Dick, do you think you could get me a refill?"

"Come on, Tim." Dick rolled his eyes for a second time and took the glass, handing it to Tim. "Oh, and Clark?" he said, pulling him aside and draping an arm over his shoulder. "You're still going to write up the whole thing for me, right?"

"Already partway through."

"Yes!" Dick gave a single fist pump before disappearing into the crowd.

"Do you know Selina Kyle, Miss Lane?" Bruce said, when Clark turned back to them. "Selina, this is Lois Lane and Clark Kent."

"Lovely to meet you," the dark-haired woman said, then to Bruce, "but I really must be going."

"Oh, must you?"Bruce made a sad moue, all attention back on his companion.

Beside Clark, Lois grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handed him one with a look that dared him to go ahead and enjoy the show. He clinked his drink to hers.

Selina and Bruce ignored them completely. "Late night errands to run," she said, extending a slim hand in goodbye and Lois frowned over the rim of her glass at Clark as Bruce's own hand shot out, clasping the woman's wrist with a hold that was really…

"Is it warm in here?" Lois said under her breath to Clark, who was tugged at his collar to make her laugh.

"Do not," Bruce was saying, his voice low and husky, "get yourself into any kind of trouble out there this evening, Miss Kyle."

"Of course I won't," Selina said. "But my cats are out of kibble. And you should see the one I'm about to adopt. Bastet, I believe her name is."

"Bastet?" Bruce trailed off, tilting his head. "Those cats of yours ought to be... ought to be collared, Selina." His grip pulled her closer and now his thumb was moving in slow circles on the inside of her wrist.

Tim was back, though, sighing loudly. He thrust the drink he'd gone to get at Bruce, who, after a minute, seemed to remember there were other people in the room, releasing Selina and clearing his throat. "Thank you, Tim. I think I'll just walk Miss Kyle out."

Selina Kyle simply smiled, a languid, curving smile, and let him guide her through the crowd by way of his hand on the small of her back.

"Get a room," Tim said, but only when they'd glided far enough to miss the chirp.

Lois laughed, and Clark had to pat her between her shoulder blades because: champagne bubbles.

****

By midnight, the party was in full swing. Clark could hear it, even through the layers of stone and the foundation of Wayne Manor. The guest of honor, however, was down here with him in the Batcave, and they were both poring over NASA blueprints from the end of the last century, designing a new escape pod for the JLA's shuttles. Well, they had been until Bruce decided he needed to suit up, 'just in case' he needed to go out on patrol.

"If we moved the firing mechanism…" Clark said, as Bruce returned, cowl hanging down his back but otherwise Batman, "we'd have more room for a power source. Nice suit, by the way."

Bruce-Batman looked down at himself, pleased. "A change from the last one I destroyed, isn't it? Ah, Alfred brought the coffee."

"Just a second ago."

Bruce poured a cup, added sugar and cream, and handed it to Clark. "You're writing up our time away for Dick?"

"I'm writing it up for the JLA archives anyway. I told Dick I'd give him his own copy-one that's a little more personal."

"He'll read it back to back for eons."

Clark smiled.

"Bludhaven will fall into anarchy because he won't put the thing down."

"The PEM system," Clark continued, laughing. "We need something to-

"-to jumpstart it, I know." Bruce poured his own cup. Black, of course.

"I still think the NASA tests of the early '90s. WayneTech-"

"-has access to the data." Bruce challenged him with a raised eyebrow. "You want to go see it tonight?"

"You'll miss your party…"

"I need to go out for a while anyway."

"There's an Egyptian exhibit at the Gotham Museum, isn't there?" Clark said. "Priceless cat-related antiquities, I heard…"

"I believe so," Bruce said, picking nonexistent lint off of the emblem of the Batsuit. "But that, of course, would be the last stop of the evening. First you and I could check out Gotham. Metropolis, too. Wouldn't hurt for either of us to put in a little time doing some routine-" He looked up and smiled, because while he'd been talking, Clark had changed. "Some routine patrol."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Superman said.

"Nothing at all." Bruce pulled up his cowl, now fully Batman. "Let's get out there and save the world."