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thejusticelounge2013-07-06 08:40 am
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-07-06 08:40 am
léger de main
Clark watches Billy show Zee her birthday garden from inside, smiling through the kitchen window above the sink as he finishes frosting Zee’s cake with pink strawberry icing.
Bruce glances up and down the street their house is located on, alert but not overtly so. He’d memorized the address, when Clark had first bought it, in one of his routine checks: it was a good starter home in a safe neighborhood, the wiring had been changed out a few years back and there were no records of sinkholes anywhere in the vicinity. Yet, throughout his perusal of the facts, the man had not thought to ask if he was welcome there, and the thought suddenly rears its head, Bruce blinking when it comes screeching to the forefront of his mind. Gritting his teeth, he depresses the button and rings the doorbell to Clark and Zatanna’s home.
Clark hears Bruce on the front sidewalk long before he hears the bell ring, but he waits before answering the door. It’s habitual at this point, and he learned growing up that people were unnerved when he flung the door open before they ever reached it. Not that unnerving Bruce was a common occurrence either way.
"Bruce, hello," he greets him warmly, one hand still holding a spatula coating with pink frosting. “Come in! Glad you could come. Zee and Billy are outside looking at the flowers he planted for her."
Billy "It is! Hey, someone’s here…wanna go inside and see who it is?"
Zee smiles, “Yeah, let’s go see!"
Bruce enters the house silently, with a nod at Clark before he looks around, taking in the interior of the house, his expression impassive. He is dressed in a dress suit that costs the same as some new cars, and attempts not to be consciously aware of that fact when he glances down the short hallways, the brightly colored paint on the walls, the hand-painted picture frames on the walls. He watches Clark from his peripherals, hearing the back door open and Billy and Zatanna’s voice before they move inside.
He pushes his hands into the pockets of his slacks, looking towards the noise as he speaks to Clark: “It’s great, Clark," he murmurs, so quietly that no one but the Kryptonian would be able to hear him.
Clark takes no notice of any discomfort Bruce may feel when observing their new home.
"Thanks!" he says brightly as he leads Bruce to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for him before adding rainbow sprinkles to the birthday cake. “We’ve been happy here. Been painting and fixing up the place. Billy loves having a backyard to play in now."
Billy precedes his mother in searching out their guest.
"Hi, Mr. Wayne!" he says upon seeing him, then looks around, and leans to one side to see if there’s anyone behind him. “Did Damian come with you too?"
He wants to show him his room and cool back yard.
Bruce takes the coffee with another nod, immediately bringing the mug to his mouth for a sip. He brings the dark blue of his gaze to Clark’s face, and the corner of his mouth twitches, something like a smile, and he nods, before turning to see Billy, before shaking his head.
"Good evening, Billy. No, I’m afraid it’s just me tonight."
Zee heads in after Billy, smiling wide as she sees Bruce has come by. “Hey, stranger."
Bruce has the mug to his lips again, but meets Zee’s gaze from over it; the lines around his eyes soften the tiniest, tiniest bit. Swallowing, he nods at her.
"Evening," he comments, quietly, before setting the coffee down and gesturing to the house. “I was just telling Clark what a great job you guys have done with the house."
Clark motions Billy over to light the candles on the cake.
Bruce looks a little alarmed, and says, quietly. “Ah, I can.. Come back, Clark."
Billy takes over lighting the candles and gives Bruce a curious look. “But Mr. Wayne, if you leave, you’ll miss the best part!"
Zee shakes her head, “No no, stay! There’ll be plenty of cake to share."
Clark waves his hand at Bruce. “Don’t be silly! As long as we’ve all been friends? We’re glad to have you here to celebrate with the birthday girl." He waits until Billy lights the last candle before lifting the round platter with its tall pink cake balanced upon it.
"Don’t forget to make a wish," he encourages Zee as he holds it out to her in presentation.
Billy starts singing happy birthday, and gestures with his hands for Mr. Wayne to join in with him and his Dad, otherwise it’s only two people singing, and it really needs three to sound a lot better.
Bruce blinks and his jaw flares for a moment as he grits his teeth. He licks his lips, and joins in, the coffee mug between his fingers, and despite how low he keeps his voice, the honeyed, amber-warm timbre of his baritone is unmistakable. Pleasant, even. His hand tightens over the mug, as he keeps his eyes on Zee’s face.
Zee smiles over to Bruce, her hands clapping together as they sing. Once they finish she blows out the candles as best she can, missing just two in her first try. “Thanks you three."
Clark smiles to himself at Bruce’s singing voice, something rarely heard. He’s glad Zee’s birthday is the occasion that elicited it today, knowing how much it will mean to her.
"Ah those two candles didn’t count! Your birthday wish comes true if you have five or less candles remaining lit. Pretty sure that’s an official rule."
Zee she winks to Clark, “Sounds official to me."
Bruce brings his eyes back to his coffee, lifting it again to take another, long, hard sip, ignoring how hot the beverage is. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and he nods, confirming what Clark says. “Three if you’re in international waters."
Billy "Those two candles were me and Dad. We’re not so easy to extinguish!" he declares.
Bruce sets the coffee down again and shakes his watch-bearing arm a touch, so the cuff slides off the face of his Rolex, glancing down at the time. In truth, he has nowhere else to be. Staring at the delicate flick of the second-hand, a quiet voice berates him, for trying to get out there, so soon after arriving, a voice that is clipped and British and altogether unwilling to accept his usual excuses. Unwilling to allow him the leeway to act on his desire to exit, neatly and quickly, and leave the three of them to their domestic bliss, that he, quite the interloper in all black—shirt, pants, shoes, shined to a vicious gleam—has no place in.
He glances up at Billy, lips twitching and nods. “That sounds about right."
Clark chuckles as he cuts generous slices of cake for everyone and passes the plates around.
"That’s right! Those candles just help light your wish on its way. Bruce, how are Alfred and the children?" he asks as he takes a bite of cake.
Bruce takes the cake, and fork, but does not begin to eat, looking over at his friend when he asks.
"They’re all doing fine, thank you for asking. Tim is still in Europe, having a good time of it. And.. Yes, they are all doing well." He sets the plate down on the table, hand reaching for the coffee again, but stopping midway. He nods, and looks to Zee and Clark. “I’ve actually got to get going," he states, lying easily enough.
Zee takes a bite into her cake, looking up from her cake with a small sad smile that she quickly hides away as she swallows her mouthful, “Oh, already?"
Billy "Awww."
Bruce nods, and brings his mug to the sink, setting the plate of untouched cake in front of Clark. Then, standing before the three of them, he looks to Billy, nodding at the boy in a very formal manner of dismissal, and gives his hand to Clark for a shake, before moving to Zee and kissing her on the cheek, lightly, as a goodnight.
Bruce: “Happy Birthday, Zatanna," he murmurs, quietly, his hand just barely ghosting the curve of her shoulder.
Billy "Seeya Mr. Wayne! Maybe Damian can come for a sleepover soon!"
…and, despite his hands staying where everyone can see them, even with just the tips of his fingers against her shoulder, somehow, the box shows up in Zee’s back pocket, as he pulls away.
Bruce nods to Clark and Billy, and turns, walking the way he’d entered, and back outside, towards his car.
Zee feels the weight of the box added to her pocket as she says goodbye. Suspicious, but also wanting to spend a little more time chatting, Zee decides to follow Bruce out to his car before he has a chance to make a getaway. Running down the front steps, holding the small box out towards him she calls out to him, “Hey! What’s this?"
Bruce almost sighs, out loud, when he feels her behind him. The Maserati is parked, neatly, at the curb and Bruce depresses the unlock button on the fob, the lights flashing twice, before he turns to her. “Something for you," he explains, a certain amount of brusqueness that she’ll know, is all bravado at this point. He slides a hand into his pocket, watching the woman in front of him carefully, his eyes trained on her face.
Zee opens up the small neat box with ease, her eyes lighting up as she looks at the contents of what’s inside: a coin. “You didn’t!" she can’t help but squeal.
Bruce glances towards the car, eyes nearly clicking for how fast they move away from the sight of her bright eyes, the light that radiates up into her face. He’s silent, unmoving for a few moments before he finally nods, confirming it"I kept it," he says, his voice quiet but not gentle. There’s a fierceness around him, very similar to the same angry little boy he’d once been, when he says it. As if he were challenging her to make him deny it.
Zee as soon as he confirms that fact, she’s welling up. A hand flies to cover her mouth as she whispers, "No way."
Closing the box’s lid, she looks to him. Her blue eyes are now sparkling bright as she holds back her tears and desire to rush over to embrace him. “I didn’t know that meant something to you." she manages to say.
Bruce’s face darkens in a scowl as he brings his gaze to meet hers; the ocean of his blue meeting hers, like Pacific and Atlantic.
"Of course it did," he states, a bit on the harder end of his tone, his fingers twitching the tiniest bit when he sees the tears in her eyes. He stands in front of her, the car behind them, the street lights just beginning to turn on and Bruce, for all of his training, for the endless hours spent working out scenarios, finds himself helplessly.. lost, here. Standing in front of her, eyes trained on the beauty of her expression, open and nearly twinkling in the low light of evening.
”..of course it did," he repeats, much softer, this time around, shaking his head slowly.
Zee quickly reaches her hand out to meet his, squeezing as tight as she possibly could in an attempt to convey all that she’s feeling in that moment. Her words feel completely overwhelmed with the magnitude caused by the small box resting in her other hand. With a deep inhale she smiles, nodding her head as she whispers, “Of course."
Bruce steps forward, slowly, measuring his steps very carefully and watching her face the whole time he is in motion, reading it for any microexpressions of alarm or distaste. He pads over to her, until he is just inches away, his hands lifting to her shoulders, and desperately soft, he ducks down and places a kiss on her forehead.
"Happy Birthday, Zee," he murmurs, quietly, lingering for a moment in the contact before stepping back, hands sliding from her like they’d never lighted upon her in the first place. He turns, and walks to the car, the engine purring to life the instant he slides onto the leather seat. The door shuts, the lights turn on, and Bruce drives at reduced speeds, exiting the neighborhood. There are still children playing on the sidewalks, after all.
Bruce glances up and down the street their house is located on, alert but not overtly so. He’d memorized the address, when Clark had first bought it, in one of his routine checks: it was a good starter home in a safe neighborhood, the wiring had been changed out a few years back and there were no records of sinkholes anywhere in the vicinity. Yet, throughout his perusal of the facts, the man had not thought to ask if he was welcome there, and the thought suddenly rears its head, Bruce blinking when it comes screeching to the forefront of his mind. Gritting his teeth, he depresses the button and rings the doorbell to Clark and Zatanna’s home.
Clark hears Bruce on the front sidewalk long before he hears the bell ring, but he waits before answering the door. It’s habitual at this point, and he learned growing up that people were unnerved when he flung the door open before they ever reached it. Not that unnerving Bruce was a common occurrence either way.
"Bruce, hello," he greets him warmly, one hand still holding a spatula coating with pink frosting. “Come in! Glad you could come. Zee and Billy are outside looking at the flowers he planted for her."
Billy "It is! Hey, someone’s here…wanna go inside and see who it is?"
Zee smiles, “Yeah, let’s go see!"
Bruce enters the house silently, with a nod at Clark before he looks around, taking in the interior of the house, his expression impassive. He is dressed in a dress suit that costs the same as some new cars, and attempts not to be consciously aware of that fact when he glances down the short hallways, the brightly colored paint on the walls, the hand-painted picture frames on the walls. He watches Clark from his peripherals, hearing the back door open and Billy and Zatanna’s voice before they move inside.
He pushes his hands into the pockets of his slacks, looking towards the noise as he speaks to Clark: “It’s great, Clark," he murmurs, so quietly that no one but the Kryptonian would be able to hear him.
Clark takes no notice of any discomfort Bruce may feel when observing their new home.
"Thanks!" he says brightly as he leads Bruce to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for him before adding rainbow sprinkles to the birthday cake. “We’ve been happy here. Been painting and fixing up the place. Billy loves having a backyard to play in now."
Billy precedes his mother in searching out their guest.
"Hi, Mr. Wayne!" he says upon seeing him, then looks around, and leans to one side to see if there’s anyone behind him. “Did Damian come with you too?"
He wants to show him his room and cool back yard.
Bruce takes the coffee with another nod, immediately bringing the mug to his mouth for a sip. He brings the dark blue of his gaze to Clark’s face, and the corner of his mouth twitches, something like a smile, and he nods, before turning to see Billy, before shaking his head.
"Good evening, Billy. No, I’m afraid it’s just me tonight."
Zee heads in after Billy, smiling wide as she sees Bruce has come by. “Hey, stranger."
Bruce has the mug to his lips again, but meets Zee’s gaze from over it; the lines around his eyes soften the tiniest, tiniest bit. Swallowing, he nods at her.
"Evening," he comments, quietly, before setting the coffee down and gesturing to the house. “I was just telling Clark what a great job you guys have done with the house."
Clark motions Billy over to light the candles on the cake.
Bruce looks a little alarmed, and says, quietly. “Ah, I can.. Come back, Clark."
Billy takes over lighting the candles and gives Bruce a curious look. “But Mr. Wayne, if you leave, you’ll miss the best part!"
Zee shakes her head, “No no, stay! There’ll be plenty of cake to share."
Clark waves his hand at Bruce. “Don’t be silly! As long as we’ve all been friends? We’re glad to have you here to celebrate with the birthday girl." He waits until Billy lights the last candle before lifting the round platter with its tall pink cake balanced upon it.
"Don’t forget to make a wish," he encourages Zee as he holds it out to her in presentation.
Billy starts singing happy birthday, and gestures with his hands for Mr. Wayne to join in with him and his Dad, otherwise it’s only two people singing, and it really needs three to sound a lot better.
Bruce blinks and his jaw flares for a moment as he grits his teeth. He licks his lips, and joins in, the coffee mug between his fingers, and despite how low he keeps his voice, the honeyed, amber-warm timbre of his baritone is unmistakable. Pleasant, even. His hand tightens over the mug, as he keeps his eyes on Zee’s face.
Zee smiles over to Bruce, her hands clapping together as they sing. Once they finish she blows out the candles as best she can, missing just two in her first try. “Thanks you three."
Clark smiles to himself at Bruce’s singing voice, something rarely heard. He’s glad Zee’s birthday is the occasion that elicited it today, knowing how much it will mean to her.
"Ah those two candles didn’t count! Your birthday wish comes true if you have five or less candles remaining lit. Pretty sure that’s an official rule."
Zee she winks to Clark, “Sounds official to me."
Bruce brings his eyes back to his coffee, lifting it again to take another, long, hard sip, ignoring how hot the beverage is. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and he nods, confirming what Clark says. “Three if you’re in international waters."
Billy "Those two candles were me and Dad. We’re not so easy to extinguish!" he declares.
Bruce sets the coffee down again and shakes his watch-bearing arm a touch, so the cuff slides off the face of his Rolex, glancing down at the time. In truth, he has nowhere else to be. Staring at the delicate flick of the second-hand, a quiet voice berates him, for trying to get out there, so soon after arriving, a voice that is clipped and British and altogether unwilling to accept his usual excuses. Unwilling to allow him the leeway to act on his desire to exit, neatly and quickly, and leave the three of them to their domestic bliss, that he, quite the interloper in all black—shirt, pants, shoes, shined to a vicious gleam—has no place in.
He glances up at Billy, lips twitching and nods. “That sounds about right."
Clark chuckles as he cuts generous slices of cake for everyone and passes the plates around.
"That’s right! Those candles just help light your wish on its way. Bruce, how are Alfred and the children?" he asks as he takes a bite of cake.
Bruce takes the cake, and fork, but does not begin to eat, looking over at his friend when he asks.
"They’re all doing fine, thank you for asking. Tim is still in Europe, having a good time of it. And.. Yes, they are all doing well." He sets the plate down on the table, hand reaching for the coffee again, but stopping midway. He nods, and looks to Zee and Clark. “I’ve actually got to get going," he states, lying easily enough.
Zee takes a bite into her cake, looking up from her cake with a small sad smile that she quickly hides away as she swallows her mouthful, “Oh, already?"
Billy "Awww."
Bruce nods, and brings his mug to the sink, setting the plate of untouched cake in front of Clark. Then, standing before the three of them, he looks to Billy, nodding at the boy in a very formal manner of dismissal, and gives his hand to Clark for a shake, before moving to Zee and kissing her on the cheek, lightly, as a goodnight.
Bruce: “Happy Birthday, Zatanna," he murmurs, quietly, his hand just barely ghosting the curve of her shoulder.
Billy "Seeya Mr. Wayne! Maybe Damian can come for a sleepover soon!"
…and, despite his hands staying where everyone can see them, even with just the tips of his fingers against her shoulder, somehow, the box shows up in Zee’s back pocket, as he pulls away.
Bruce nods to Clark and Billy, and turns, walking the way he’d entered, and back outside, towards his car.
Zee feels the weight of the box added to her pocket as she says goodbye. Suspicious, but also wanting to spend a little more time chatting, Zee decides to follow Bruce out to his car before he has a chance to make a getaway. Running down the front steps, holding the small box out towards him she calls out to him, “Hey! What’s this?"
Bruce almost sighs, out loud, when he feels her behind him. The Maserati is parked, neatly, at the curb and Bruce depresses the unlock button on the fob, the lights flashing twice, before he turns to her. “Something for you," he explains, a certain amount of brusqueness that she’ll know, is all bravado at this point. He slides a hand into his pocket, watching the woman in front of him carefully, his eyes trained on her face.
Zee opens up the small neat box with ease, her eyes lighting up as she looks at the contents of what’s inside: a coin. “You didn’t!" she can’t help but squeal.
Bruce glances towards the car, eyes nearly clicking for how fast they move away from the sight of her bright eyes, the light that radiates up into her face. He’s silent, unmoving for a few moments before he finally nods, confirming it"I kept it," he says, his voice quiet but not gentle. There’s a fierceness around him, very similar to the same angry little boy he’d once been, when he says it. As if he were challenging her to make him deny it.
Zee as soon as he confirms that fact, she’s welling up. A hand flies to cover her mouth as she whispers, "No way."
Closing the box’s lid, she looks to him. Her blue eyes are now sparkling bright as she holds back her tears and desire to rush over to embrace him. “I didn’t know that meant something to you." she manages to say.
Bruce’s face darkens in a scowl as he brings his gaze to meet hers; the ocean of his blue meeting hers, like Pacific and Atlantic.
"Of course it did," he states, a bit on the harder end of his tone, his fingers twitching the tiniest bit when he sees the tears in her eyes. He stands in front of her, the car behind them, the street lights just beginning to turn on and Bruce, for all of his training, for the endless hours spent working out scenarios, finds himself helplessly.. lost, here. Standing in front of her, eyes trained on the beauty of her expression, open and nearly twinkling in the low light of evening.
”..of course it did," he repeats, much softer, this time around, shaking his head slowly.
Zee quickly reaches her hand out to meet his, squeezing as tight as she possibly could in an attempt to convey all that she’s feeling in that moment. Her words feel completely overwhelmed with the magnitude caused by the small box resting in her other hand. With a deep inhale she smiles, nodding her head as she whispers, “Of course."
Bruce steps forward, slowly, measuring his steps very carefully and watching her face the whole time he is in motion, reading it for any microexpressions of alarm or distaste. He pads over to her, until he is just inches away, his hands lifting to her shoulders, and desperately soft, he ducks down and places a kiss on her forehead.
"Happy Birthday, Zee," he murmurs, quietly, lingering for a moment in the contact before stepping back, hands sliding from her like they’d never lighted upon her in the first place. He turns, and walks to the car, the engine purring to life the instant he slides onto the leather seat. The door shuts, the lights turn on, and Bruce drives at reduced speeds, exiting the neighborhood. There are still children playing on the sidewalks, after all.